I think that, as a fandom, we have given Dick entirely too much grace when it comes to the crazy shit he can undoubtedly do.
Like. This man was raised by The Batman, way back when Bruce was terrified of having a child on the streets with him, so he taught him fucking everything.
Dick can identify what bone was just broken just by hearing it snap. He can do rapid fire math, calculating the weight of a person, their muscle mass, and their general balance and snap any bone he so chooses.
He knows every single gun based off of their gunshot. There's about five pretty common and reliably used guns in Gotham and every Batkid and experienced cop can tell the difference between the five of them, but for any new sort of gun, they turn to Dick and he rattles off how many bullets, how fast a reloading time, etc etc
He knows how to mostly painlessly dislocate his shoulders and hips in order to squeeze into tiny spaces
He can wield every weapon ever used dating back to the origin of man- he's not an expert at every one but he can wield them, and non weapon objects he can turn into weapons just by wielding them
He can genuinely meditate away pain while mid fight in order to keep putting pressure on that leg that has a broken kneecap because he doesn't want to lose his balance and still wants to throw a punch with that snapped right wrist
He spent an entire summer jumping from the trees behind Wayne Manor and training his body to accept the fall and not fucking die at increasingly higher and higher heights.
He once broke out of a Riddler trap using nothing more than an eraser and a napkin
summary — there is no vampire slayer more terrible at his job than Satoru Gojo, yet for reasons completely unknown, no immortal has ever survived an encounter with him. you, the overindulged daughter of the vampire king, have been forbidden from leaving the castle tonight. the infamous slayer is out hunting. your father is worried. the vampire community is hiding. you, however, have a date. surely nothing will go wrong.
♱ word count — 17k
♱ content warning + tags — MDNI 18+ ONLY, fem reader, fluff, some angst, supernatural au, plot with smut, eventual smut, slow burn, hidden enemies to lovers... until it's not, mutual pining, vampire typical violence, vampire naoya, unprotected piv, reader is thirsty - literally and figuratively, satoru impales you but not with a sword.
♱ a/n — merry christmas! tis' the season for vampires (>.<) apparently, i'm still in my monster era, but at least this is set in winter. i hope you enjoy it ♡ 〢 art: yan yu jun (weibo) and pinterest, rose divider: @ divinyae
There was one name vampires feared, and that name was Satoru Gojo. Not because he was good at hunting them down, but because he was incredibly bad at it, and still managed to kill them.
It was one thing to be turned to dust at the hands of a slayer. It was quite another when that slayer didn’t even carry a holy sword, yet would somehow end up impaling them. Embarrassing, really. No respectable vampire who was worth their fangs could stomach the thought that someone so incapable would be responsible for their final demise. They’d be the laughing stock of New Transylvania, and that certainly wouldn’t do well for their reputation as blood-thirsty immortals.
For this reason alone, whenever the night winds blew word that Satoru Gojo was prowling about, the wisest thing for a vampire to do was keep a wide berth from the infamous slayer.
Because no one, alive or undead, wanted to be made a fool of.
By a fool.
“Which is why you will not be leaving this castle tonight, my dear.”
You crossed your arms and pouted. You’d been tarrying about your father’s study for the last hour, hoping he’d change his mind. But tonight, no matter how you twisted and turned your words, he seemed determined to remain unswayed.
Frankly, it was annoying you to no end. Your father had always been resolutely obstinate, but rarely when it concerned you. Every bloodsucker, far and wide, freshly turned and centuries old, knew that the King of Vampires, Sukuna, could never deny his daughter her heart’s content. You were the apple of all four of your father’s eyes, and all you had to do was simply exist.
It had been this way since the beginning. You occupied the largest wing in the castle, which was redecorated every season according to your mood, while the furniture in Sukuna’s own wing remained as permanent as the prime immortal himself, unchanging since the dawn of time. You loved roses, so Sukuna had captured employed a team of alchemists and gardeners to drape the expansive gardens with every imaginable species of the flower, and to ensure they were in perpetual bloom all year round, including winter. Whenever you attended any of your father’s audiences, it was customary to greet you first before Sukuna, and whenever you were absent, it was customary to ask after your well-being before uttering anything else. The more creative a compliment towards you that one could conceive, the more inclined Sukuna was to listen to their plights.
No request you made, however fanciful, however outrageous, was too much for Sukuna to grant.
Except this. Except when it concerned Satoru Gojo.
“What if I bring Uraume along?” you tried again. “Certainly you won’t object to that.”
“It changes nothing. And Uraume is busy. The blood moon is less than a month away, and there is much left to be prepared for the Red Feast. Our pens are not yet fully stocked. I should like to avoid feeding our guests rat wine during the night of my daughter’s betrothal announcement.”
“Then all the more you should let me go out tonight,” you pressed. “Since, my dear father, I have yet to decide who I wish to be betrothed to.”
“Mmm, and you seem to be taking your own sweet time with it.” Sukuna raised an inquiring brow at you. “I should think a hundred years was long enough for you to find someone to your liking. And since we’re on the topic of suitors, this Zenin boy you are so insistent on meeting tonight—I was under the impression that my daughter had better tastes than that.”
“What’s wrong with Naoya?”
Sukuna did not look amused. “Only in so much as I believe him to be a waste of your time. The boy has no respect for our ways and behaves like a rabid gutter rat during hunting season. If he weren’t a Zenin, I’d have him staked out under the sun by now.”
“Well, I disagree. He’s been perfectly nice to me.”
“Everyone is nice to you, my dear. Unless they’d like to perish most painfully. And I said the boy is a waste of time, I never said he was stupid. He’s a power hungry maniac—“
“Speak for yourself, father.”
“Yes, but I am powerful. The Zenin boy merely thinks he is, in which, he is sadly mistaken. You are my only daughter. The Crown Princess of the Night. You will be the Queen of Vampires when I retire. I’d hoped you’d at least settle on someone more… amenable. Someone who delights in giving you everything as much as I do.”
“But he stirs something in me, father.” You didn’t want to say it was because Naoya gave good head. “And he’s always bringing me gifts. Like tonight. He said he has something he wants to show me, and that I won’t want to miss it.”
“There is not much difference between wanting something and pure stupidity.”
“Are you calling me stupid?”
“Far from it, but you will be if you insist on going out, which you will not. I do not wish to wake tomorrow night only to discover I am short of a daughter.”
Naturally, for someone who was used to getting everything you wanted, hearing the word ’no’ was an unusual experience. You weren’t used to it, and you certainly didn’t like it.
Your beaded slippers tapped the cold stone floor with equal persistence. You huffed. “I fail to see what’s so dangerous about this slayer. It’s all merely rumours. Surely if he’s so incompetent, then there’s nothing to be worried about Satoru Go—“
Your father’s answering growl was vicious, causing you to hesitate. The glow of the candelabras caught in all four of his ancient eyes, and you saw that his irises had deepened from a glittering crimson to icy black voids.
“Never speak his name in these walls.” But Sukuna must have caught your slight flinch, because his tone softened immediately. He sighed, and put down the tome he was reading, finally paying you his full attention. “Ask yourself this, daughter—if there are rumours abound of a singular individual, then is there not some truth to them? Incompetent he may be, but there is a reason he is called the Six Eyes. And if he truly is as lousy as they say, then why have none of our kind managed to survive an encounter with him?”
You frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense. If no vampire has survived the Six Eyes, then who is spreading all these rumours? And how do we know they’re true?”
Sukuna watched you in silence, as impervious as the gargoyle statues carved into the castle’s exterior. His fingernails, sharpened to wicked points, rapped against the intricately carved mahogany desk before him.
“That is a story for another day, dear daughter,” he said at last, and picked up his tome. “The only thing you need to be concerned of tonight is staying within the castle grounds. I’m certain you will find something to occupy yourself with for one night. Go torture one or two of the gardeners should it please you. But if you do feed on any of them, remember to let Uraume know so we can find a replacement.”
He waved one of his four hands, signalling that your conversation had come to an end.
You wanted to argue. Wanted to stomp your foot and demand he put that tome down again. But you resisted. You were smarter than that. Your father might acquiesce to most of your wishes, but he wasn’t a pushover. Whining he could take, but a tantrum you knew for a fact he wouldn’t tolerate. His default mood was already surly, and toying with his temper by showing your own was a bad way to go about it.
No. Safer to just do it behind his back.
Which was why the moment you left your father’s study, you announced to your servants you were going to sulk and wished to be left alone, then proceeded up to the castle’s highest tower, and leapt right out the window.
Your eyes closed, savouring the sensation as you plummeted down and down and down. The thrill of it. And when you opened them again, you saw that the ground had nearly swallowed up the distance. You grinned.
Not yet. Not until the last seconds.
A rise in your chest. A tingle. A beat? You clutched on to the feeling. A feeling you couldn’t name but could not resist chasing.
Three…Two…One… the ground expanded around you.
You shifted.
Great membranous wings sprouted out your back, unfurling. Then you were soaring up and away, into the night sky, the cold winter winds beating against your colder skin, and with your back to the moon, you flew further and further away from the cliffside castle you called home, headed for the forest.
Up here, among silence and the stars and pale, silvery light of the moon—the only light you ever knew—your breaths eased, and you could not help but wonder if this feeling was as close to what the humans described as peace.
For vampires did not feel like humans did, yet it fascinated you so. That all it took was a beating heart to conjure an unfathomable amount of emotions, and if you dared admit, was the one thing about humans you envied. Because the thing in your chest—if you even had one—had never once moved. It was still when you were born, and would remain so for eternity.
You spotted the clearing where you were to meet Naoya, the midpoint between the castle, the Zenin Estate and the human settlements. But you remembered your father’s warning about the Six Eyes. That Satoru Gojo was on the hunt tonight. Your predator’s vision zoomed in like a magnifying glass, searching through the darkness of the trees below.
You saw Naoya. He was in his vampire form. The idiot. Every creature of the night knew to hide their true form this close to the human settlements. No one wanted to scare their food away. If word spread that a vampire was skulking about nearby, the towns would go into lockdown, merchants would stop travelling through the forest routes, and the slayers would be deployed in droves. There would be no food for the vampires to hunt. They’d have to live off animal blood for weeks, a poor substitute compared to their usual sustenance.
And then you realised Naoya wasn’t alone. He was kicking something on the ground. Something small and limp—
A human.
You descended, your wings angled for a quick landing, diving into the shadows of the forest. The moment your feet touched the snow-covered ground, silent and swift, you immediately shifted into your human form.
“What do you think you’re doing?” you hissed, not bothering to greet him.
Naoya turned around, eyes glinting in the darkness. His arms spread out in welcome. “Finally. Took you long enough. It’s not nice to keep your betrothed waiting, princess. I was growing bored and was about to start without you.”
“You’re not my betrothed yet. And is that...“ Your eyes widened at the bloody lump of flesh, unmoving on the dirty snow.
“Your gift. To celebrate our union.” Naoya grinned, fangs flashing. “Don’t worry, it’s alive. Barely. But still breathing. I’d never feed you expired produce.”
“Naoya, that is a child.”
“So it is. Females are always so perceptive, aren’t they?” Naoya spared a glance at the prone body. A girl that looked not even past ten years of human age. “Go on. Have the first bite. Or we can do what we usually do—you may feed on it while I feed on that cunt of yours. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, my little slut—”
“We’re not supposed to feed on children,” you cut him off. “It’s against our rules, and the pact my father made with the first mortal king. You know this. Hunting them down this young will only dwindle our supply.”
But Naoya seemed genuinely surprised. “You’ve never tried a child before? And here I am thinking you’re not as innocent as you make yourself out to be.”
You stared at him. “How long have you been feeding on children?”
Naoya shrugged. “Long enough to know they taste better than aged blood. They’re sweeter. Fresher. Like a clear, crystal lake.” He grabbed the child, dragging its body through the slush of snow and earth before dumping it in front of you. “There’s a first time for everything, princess. Try it. You’ll never want go back to sucking aged blood once you do, trust me.”
“No,” you said, firmly. “Return it. Make it seem like an accident. If the humans find out you’ve been hunting their young, the pact will be annulled and the slayers will have free reign to invade our lands. And the child deserves to experience mortal life before becoming our prey.”
Naoya frowned. “I don’t remember you being this… opinionated. It’s unbecoming of you, princess. I think I much prefer that mouth of yours when it’s moaning my name.”
“I’m serious, Naoya. Put the child back where you found it.”
He moved then, like a fault in time, a warping of space, his preternatural speed placing him behind you before you could blink. With him in his vampire form and you in a human’s, your own reflexes were dulled, and the next thing you knew, he had his fist in your hair, his fangs grazing up your neck.
Naoya licked the shell of your ear. “Don’t play coy, princess. If this is your way of asking me to fuck you before we feast, then it’s better to just beg.”
“I’m not playing around, you idiot.” You tried pushing him away, but his grip on you tightened, sharp fingernails digging into your skin. Good sex or not, you were starting to question why you liked him at all. “Stop. I mean it. Let go of me or else—“
But Naoya was laughing. “Or else? Or else what?”
A rip. He’d torn through the neckline of your dress. Your sleeve split down your shoulder.
“Admit it,” he was saying. “You like it when I treat you like a disobedient slut. When I shut that mouth up with my—aargh! What the fuck?“
Naoya’s grip loosened, his head snapping around, then down.
There was something white on the ground. Something so mundane yet so out of place in the middle of a forest that it confounded you just as much.
Was that… garlic?
A rustle in the silence.
A man was standing in the clearing, as if he’d materialised out of blank space like an apparition. The first thing you noticed was his white hair, as white as falling snow. Then his eyes…
“Ah… excuse me, miss,” he seemed to be speaking to you. In one of his gloved hands was another bulb of garlic. “I couldn’t help but notice you seem to be in a bit of a pickle. Might I offer you some assistance?”
The sudden presence of another—human? Yes, he was definitely human. You didn’t before, but you caught his scent now. Smelled the blood flowing in his veins, rich and heady and oh so sweet…
But how could a human have evaded your senses? Even Naoya, in true form, hadn’t noticed the man until he’d shown himself. It baffled you, and apparently Naoya as well, because he was as speechless as you.
You asked the only question that came to mind. “Who are you?”
The man stepped forward, moonlight casting silver lines across his face, pale and young and pretty; illuminating his tall, lithe figure, clad in the simple leathers of a village hunter.
He cleared his throat. “Well, you see, I’m a vampire slayer. And that there, as I’m sure you are already aware, is a vampire—“ he gestured at Naoya, somewhat carelessly. “I regret to tell you this, miss, but that thing isn’t going to kiss you if that’s what you’re expecting.”
“You’re a slayer?”
He must have thought you were rendered stupid because he spoke slower this time. “Yes, ah… I’m sure you’ve heard of the occupation. I slay vampires for a living. As in return them to dust. Vanquish them. Kill them, to put it simply.”
“You pelted me with garlic, you fool,” Naoya growled, having recovered from the man’s unexpected intrusion. “Only an imbecile would do that.”
The man’s—slayer’s—eyes, a deep entrancing blue that glowed in the darkness like the heart of a flame, settled on Naoya. “Well, it caught your attention, didn’t it? So I’d say it worked.” His tone hardened then. “And shame on you. Preying on a child and giving such a lovely lady false hope. I don’t tolerate rakes who go around breaking hearts, much less vampires. And it seems you are both.”
But Naoya was laughing. “Oh, you are hilarious. What kind of slayer confronts a vampire without holy silver? It almost makes me want to spare you out of pity, which I won’t, just so you know.”
The slayer merely grinned. “I’m not asking you to, fiend. In fact, I was actually planning on hitting you in the head again.”
His answer only amused Naoya further because he finally released you, red eyes gleaming with newfound excitement, as if he’d found a new sport.
“Is that so?” Naoya bared his fangs, tongue licking the tip. “Because my suggestion is that you’d better run, slayer. Run fast, and run far. I’m feeling generous so I’ll count to ten, and when I catch you, your throat will no longer be attached to your head.”
To your surprise, the slayer laughed right back. “I wouldn’t bother counting if I were you. I might not use swords, but I’ll have you know I’m quite fast.” He crooked his fingers at Naoya. “Come on, try me.”
Everything in your mind snapped into place then. The man’s sudden appearance. That he called himself a slayer. The garlic. That he wasn’t intimidated by Naoya even without a holy weapon. Your father’s countless lectures swam in your head, solidifying into the only plausible conclusion you now could not deny.
This man—he was no ordinary slayer.
You spun to warn Naoya. To tell him to run. But it was too late. He’d already moved, and it was like he’d stretched through the clearing in a single step, no longer next to you but where the slayer stood—
Or had been standing.
You could have sworn upon your entire undead existence that the slayer hadn’t so much as twitched a muscle. But what you saw with your own eyes was irrefutable. He was there one moment, and then he was simply… not. He’d disappeared like a ghost—no, that wasn’t right. He’d swerved, like a gust of wind, and before Naoya’s fangs could bite into nothing, the slayer was already behind him.
“Watch out!” You shouted.
The slayer must have thought you were talking to him because he was smiling at you. “Not to worry, my lady. I promise you I have quite a lot of experience in handling vampires—“ Then he did it again, moving as the air moved, feinting another one of Naoya’s deadly slashes. “Not as much as other slayers, come to think of it. Perhaps a higher kill count, though I can’t be sure. Still, quality is better than quantity, that’s what Suguru always told me. Then again, he liked to think he was very profound…”
He continued like this, rambling on and on while he dodged every attack Naoya threw at him. No matter what Naoya did, no matter how many times he tried, clawing and slashing and pouncing, he couldn’t touch the slayer. Not even a brush. And this only incensed him further.
“You dare play tricks on me?” Naoya growled, furious, but you could tell he was growing tired. His movements were lagging. “No human can possibly move this quickly.”
Perhaps it was your imagination, but the slayer’s impossible blue eyes seemed to glow brighter. “My gratitudes for the compliment. For that, you get a present.”
It took less than a blink—not even—for the slayer’s fist to connect, fingers splayed as he smashed the garlic he’d been holding this whole time in Naoya’s face. Another hand was wrapped around Naoya’s neck in a chokehold, lifting him off his feet for half a second before slamming him onto the ground.
Naoya was gasping now. The gasps turned into splutters as the slayer’s boot came down on his face, smooshing the garlic into mush.
“Take—her—princess…”
The slayer put a hand to his ear, but eased the pressure of his boot slightly. “I’m sorry, what was that? You know, it’s rude to speak with your mouth full.”
Naoya heaved, one hand struggling to claw at the slayers leather boot, to no avail, while the other feebly pointed a finger in your direction. “S-spare me—you can have her… she’s the princess...“
Your eyes widened, your body growing rigid.
Oh, that bastard. He would sell you out to save himself. You suddenly regretted you’d ever entertained him as a suitor at all.
“Princess?” The slayer lifted a brow, but his boot was twisting into Naoya’s face once more as those blue eyes glanced your way, sparking your veins, yet you never felt your blood turn so cold as it did now.
“I…” Your mind screamed at you to run. To shift into your winged form and hurtle into the sky. But the compounding thought of your father’s words and the sight before you—Naoya flailing in the snow, the slayer’s unnatural speed, those blue eyes… your muscles were frozen in place, as if dreading the thought of moving.
“My lady, you never mentioned you were royalty,” the slayer said, perhaps a little awestruck. “You should have said so. I would have addressed you with your proper title. I mean, I knew you weren’t from the villages, because I would have noticed if someone as beautiful as you—ah… my apologies, now I sound like a cad. But you are, ah, that is to say, beautiful. Very much so—“ He paused, glancing down briefly. “Excuse me, Your Highness. I’m just going to…”
He stomped on Naoya’s face again. And again. And again. And you watched in horror as a wet crack pierced through the clearing.
Naoya went still.
“Again, I apologise,” the slayer said, finally removing his now bloody boot off your former suitor. “You shouldn’t have to see that. But I should warn you not to go near it since it’s still alive. There are only two proven methods to completely vanquish a vampire—holy silver and sunlight. Don’t be afraid though, I might not have any silver on me but I have a way to make sure this one won’t regenerate before—“
“You’re—“ you found your voice at last. “You’re the Six Eyes.”
The slayer grinned, and it took everything in you to keep from turning on your heels and running as he approached you.
“At your service.” He bowed, then took your hand and kissed the back of it. “And it’s Satoru, Your Highness. Satoru Gojo.” He winked. “Now, let’s get you and that child home, shall we?”
He was prattling again.
“There, all done. I made this one extra deep, so I don’t think it will be able to crawl out any time soon. Well, I guess it could sprout wings, but I made sure to break all its bones just in case. Besides, I doubt it will wake up until sunrise, so it doesn’t matter since it will be fried to a crisp…”
You stared into the mouth of the pit, in which Naoya had been tossed, his body swallowed by darkness. A part of you almost felt bad for him, but then again, he did try to offer you up on a platter to save his own sorry ass.
The Six Eyes—Satoru Gojo—dusted his gloved hands, cheerfully, as if he’d finished tending his garden and not condemning one of your kind to dust. “You’re very lucky this one’s quite dense, Your Highness. The only reason I managed to track you down was because it was dumb enough to assume its vampire form this close to the borders. And to think, I was about to take a nap and miss out on meeting the most beautiful person I’ve ever—”
“Are there more of these pits around the area?”
“Huh? Oh, yes. Took some time to dig them all,” he said, a little too proudly. “They’re quite effective, if I do say so myself. Helps to keep the vamps trapped since there’s only one of me, and I can’t be out patrolling all the time. I installed spikes at the bottom, too. Holds them in place until either me or the sun arrives, whichever comes first.”
You didn’t know if you were more horrified or impressed with his methods. They were odd, certainly unorthodox. Every slayer you’d encountered previously (and killed, but he didn’t need to know that) treated a silver sword like their third leg, brandishing and poking the weapon in your face, desperate to impale you with it.
But not the Six Eyes. Not Satoru Gojo. Apparently, he preferred throwing root vegetables and digging holes in the ground.
So this was what the rumours meant about him being incompetent but effective. All this while, you’d assumed he was just some dunce with luck on his side. But you knew better now. There was nothing lucky about that incredible reflex—Naoya’s speed was unrivalled among vampires, but the way Satoru Gojo had so easily taken him down, as if he was swatting a fly… no mere mortal would ever be able to accomplish such a feat.
“I have a question, Six Eyes” you said, trying not to sound as though you were prying. But you had to know more about him. For your own survival, of course.
“Anything, Your Highness. All you have to do is ask.” He’d picked up the child and was gently cradling its mousy-looking body, and the sight of it—of something so fragile, so helpless, in his arms—you couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like if it was you instead. “You are under my protection from now on. Until I return you safely to your home, whatever you wish, whatever you desire, I am at your disposal.”
You would have found it charming, if it weren’t for the fact that you were the very creature he hunted.
“Are you—“ There was no way around it except to put it plainly. “Are you human?”
He seemed genuinely taken aback by this. Perhaps slightly insulted—no, that was not it. You saw his brows furrow, his smile fall away. Almost as if he was…
“Have I given you cause to be afraid of me?” His concerned tone confirmed it. “Do you distrust my nature? Because I swear upon heaven and hell that my blood is mortal. I slay creatures of the night. I’d never hurt you, Your Highness. Please believe me. May lightning strike me dead if I—“
“Well, it’s just that what you did to Nao—that vampire—I’ve never seen a human move that fast.”
“Oh, you mean my excellent perception.” Like a turning of the page, he was back to smiling. “Why didn’t you just ask? It’s not a secret. Not really. I’ll tell you all about it if you want. Takes an hour to reach the nearest village, so we have plenty of time. I’ll drop the child off first and then escort you back to—ah, which kingdom did you say you’re from?”
You stiffened. “Kingdom?” You pointed in a random direction. “It’s that way.”
“Are you sure? It’s all mountains over on that side.”
“Ah… I’m not sure. I thought it was. I’m not very good at… maps.”
“The closest kingdom that way would be where Poenari Castle is. Come to think of it, I did once hear the princess there was renowned for her beauty, but I’ve never been—
“Yes, that’s the one,” you said, quickly. If he’d never seen the place before, then it would make it easier to fabricate a story until you found a way to escape him.
And you would have to do it soon. In a few hours, to be precise. Before the sun rose and you were turned to dust.
But for the time being, your immediate problem was Satoru Gojo and his insistence on becoming your knight in shining armour. You were not unaware that you were now probably the only vampire to have survived an encounter with the Six Eyes. A disturbing thought, since you were currently stuck with him, and the only thing saving you was your very, very wise decision to stay in your human form.
“Great! Then we’d better get moving,” he said, and began leading the way, leaving you with no choice but to follow him further away from the vampire territories. “It’s going to take us at least six days’ travel to Poenari Castle."
You halted.
Six days? You didn't have six days. You didn't even have six hours.
"We’ll stock up on supplies and hire a carriage in the village. Can’t have a princess travelling on foot the whole way—“
“I—I can’t go to the village.”
He stopped, and gave you a confused look. “Why not? Are you tired? Are you hurt? Did that vampire bite you somewhere I didn’t see?”
“It’s just—well, the thing is—“ You racked your brain for any plausible excuse, pulling up whatever you could recall about New Transylvania’s human settlements, whatever your father had told you about them. But all you could remember was that it had its own castle, not so different from your own…
A castle. With a king and a queen. And more importantly, there was a prince…
An idea started to form.
“Well, you see, I can’t go to the village because I don’t want the prince finding out my whereabouts,” you said before you could regret it. “I’m betrothed to him. I—I ran away. I got lost. A vampire found me. Then you came along.”
You felt a strange hammering in your chest when he didn’t reply immediately. When all he did was just look at you with those bewitching blue eyes, and it was as if he had put you under a spell. Was this what humans felt like when vampires compelled them? Because you couldn’t look away either.
Anger. Hatred. Fear. Regret. Humans were so simple to read, even when they thought they were hiding it. But with the Six Eyes, you only had more questions. Had you convinced him? Did he believe you? Or could he tell you were lying? It only drew you in deeper.
But then he was nodding. “Well, that explains everything,” he said at last. “I was actually wondering what a princess from a far away kingdom was doing in the middle of a forest at night in New Transylvania, but I thought it impolite to ask.” He turned sharply in another direction. “Change of plans. No village. We’re heading this way now.”
You hesitated. “Where are you taking me?”
Satoru Gojo’s smile widened. “To my home, of course. I’m guessing you need a place to hide, am I right? And contrary to what everyone believes, I don’t actually live in the trees.”
You should have just gone to the village.
Now you were stuck in the dining room of a decaying manor, alone with a vampire slayer, trying not to grimace as a bowl of what looked harrowingly similar to sludge was placed on the long table. Thick and brown and steaming. Not so different from the stuff Uraume fed to the humans in your castle’s pens.
And the smell—it was odious. It made you want to gag. But the last thing you wanted to do was insult the Six Eyes.
“Is something wrong with the stew, Your Highness?”
Your face must have shown it because he’d stopped stirring his own bowl.
“No, not at all.” You smiled, tightly. “It’s just that… I’m not very hungry right now.”
Unfortunately, your stomach chose that moment to betray you, a growl echoing throughout the silence of the dining room.
The corners of his eyes crinkled upwards. He pressed his lips together, as if trying to keep a straight face, and perhaps, for the first time, your cheeks warmed.
“I know it’s not on par with the kind of fare you’re used to," he said. "But I promise you it’s not as bad as it looks. You must have been out in the cold for hours. A little nourishment will make you feel better. At least take a few bites before you retire for the night.”
Bite. What you’d really like to bite was him. You hadn’t fed the whole night, and it didn’t help that his scent was very, very appealing. Such as humans had different tastes in the food they ate, vampires, too, had their own preferences. Your father favoured bitter blood, with a healthy dose of misery and suffering. Naoya—before you knew he preyed on children—always took his blood young, barely cross the coming of age. And as for you—
There was no blood that smelled as exquisite as what was flowing in Satoru Gojo’s veins.
You tried not to think about how delicious his neck looked, and forced yourself to pick up your spoon. You skimmed the surface of the stew, avoiding the dubious chunks bobbing about, brought it to your mouth, and took a very, very tiny sip.
It was horrendous. You were better off eating rat shit.
With every five scoops he took, you made yourself take one, swallowing down each mouthful with so much force that it must have looked like torture, because he was grinning.
You frowned. “Do you find me funny, Six Eyes?”
He chuckled, and leaned slightly forward. “More entertaining than funny, I assure you, Your Highness. And please, it’s Satoru. Only dead things call me Six Eyes.”
You didn’t miss the irony of it. “Right… Satoru—so, do you live here alone?”
“Not exactly,” he said. “There’s my little witch boy, Megumi. But he comes and goes whenever he pleases. Unless I need him for a job, he mostly boils grass and sells them as love potions in the villages.”
You counted your lucky stars. Apart from this Megumi fellow, the only occupants here were Satoru and the child he’d left sleeping in one of the rooms. That should make it easy for you to escape this creepy estate—and creepy it was, even for an immortal predator such as yourself. Unlike the candle-lit halls of your own castle, this place was the epitome of doom and gloom. Barren. Mottled. Inside, the cold stone walls were thick with shadows, the dusty furniture like forgotten skeletons. The grounds surrounding the manor house were not much better, resembling a graveyard for dead leaves and brambles, surrounded by towering iron fences, affixed with spikes at the top.
Thank Lucifer you had wings. You’d wait until he retired for the night, and then make your escape.
You steeled yourself, and finished the foul stew. You had a couple of hours left until sunrise. If you hurried, you’d be able to reach your castle before you were reduced to corpse dust.
“Thank you for the meal,” you said, standing. “If it’s alright, I’d like to rest now. Tonight’s… adventures have left me positively exhausted.”
“Of course, of course.” He rushed to his feet, and began leading the way out the dining room and up a creaking grand staircase to a hall full of doors. He stopped at one of them, and opened it, standing aside for you to enter. “The best room for the best—ah… never mind. After you, Your Highness.”
As you squeezed past him, this close, all your thoughts narrowed on how good he smelled, and a particularly delicious spot just below his ear.
Satoru’s voice lowered, his previously circumspect manner switching like the sudden turning of tides to something that sprung heated coils below your stomach. “You’re staring, Your Highness,” he said, those blue eyes fixed on you. “Do I have something on my neck?”
You regretted flinching. “What? N-no. Nothing. I wasn’t…” your voice trailed off. You cleared your throat, and quickly put as much distance between yourself and him as possible. “Well, good night. And you don’t have to call me Your Highness.”
“Oh?” Satoru leaned his broad frame against the door like a very tempting feast. Your empty stomach fluttered. “Then what should I call you?”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” It didn’t really matter. It wasn’t as if you’d be around to hear it. “I’ll, ah, see you in the morning.”
He gave you a smile you couldn’t decipher. “I’ll be waiting, princess.”
When he finally left, you loosened the breath you’d been holding all this while. He might still be lurking around so you couldn’t leave just yet.
Left with time to kill, you began pacing around the surprisingly lavish room. It had been cleaned out, almost like Satoru had expected to have guests. Perhaps this was where he usually slept, and was courteous enough to relinquish it to you for the night. But he was also courteous enough to kill Naoya, so you should stop thinking about him.
You didn’t know how long you waited, but you deemed it long enough that he was most likely sleeping by now. The bedroom’s window was too small for you to squeeze through, which left you with no choice but to slowly—ever so slowly—turn the knob and inch the door slightly ajar.
The yawning silence of the hallway greeted you as you peeked out. Darkness had never bothered you—your vision was built for it. You slipped out of the room, wincing as the door creaked shut behind you.
Your feet made no sound as you hurried past the stained glass arches and down the grand staircase, taking two steps at a time. Thankfully, some of your vampiric abilities were still ingrained in human form—night vision, superior stealth—and you reached the carved double doors of the manor’s entrance without any trouble.
Your hands reached for the dull brass handles when a loud yawn broke through the silence.
You spun, your chest seizing, and found the child Naoya had almost beaten to death standing by a small archway, looking very much alive.
The child yawned again. “About time. I was getting sick of standing around.”
You frowned. “I’m going for a stroll. Go back to sleep, child.”
“A stroll?” A familiar voice spoke then. A voice that froze your entire body stiff. “In the middle of the night? How odd you are, princess.”
Out of the shadows in the archway, like a spectre that hadn’t been there before, stepped Satoru Gojo.
He smiled. “Would you like some company? I’m wide awake, as you can see, and Megumi here doesn’t mind. We’ll bring him along just in case.”
Megumi? Your eyes darted to the child, who grumbled inaudibly. He knew the child? And Megumi was a… he?
Satoru extended an arm towards you. “So, what do you say, princess? It will be safer with the both of us. Who knows what manner of creature might be lurking in the bushes.” His teeth flashed in the most wicked way. “Creatures like you, for example.”
A heaviness seeped into your muscles, calcifying your bones. You couldn’t feel your legs. Neither could you tear your eyes away from his penetrating blue gaze.
“You know…” your voice was barely audible. If there was ever a good time for your body to move, it was now. But you were trapped. Paralysed. “You’ve known the whole time.”
“I can never understand why you vampires like to think I’m an idiot. Of course I know.” He lifted a finger. “One, my eyes can see through anything. Excellent perception, remember? And no human alive can be as beauti—“ He stopped, as if he’d almost given something away. “Forget number two. You get my point.”
“If you’re going to explain your whole plan, then hurry up,” said Megumi. “I want to go back to sleep.”
Plan? They had a plan?
“You’re ruining the suspense, darling Megumi. I was going to let her—it—ponder for awhile longer before telling her—it—that we’ve been tracking its movements for quite some time now. Weeks, actually. That everything was fabricated and we used you as bait, and it was no coincidence that you were almost eaten by her former lover, which, of course, I’d never let happen to you, my darling Megumi.”
Megumi scoffed. “Not like she’s going to stay to hear the whole story.” He pointed at you. “See, she’s so bored she’s already leaving.”
You didn’t bother answering and threw open the double doors. There was no besting the Six Eyes in a fight, so the only other option was to run. You had to shift into your wings and get as high up as possible before he could catch you. If there was one thing you were sure of, it was that he couldn’t fly.
Dark open skies stretched above you, and without hesitation, you called forth your wings.
Nothing happened.
You were still in human form.
A lazy tapping of boots followed behind you.
“Ah… right.” Satoru shrugged, too casually. “I forgot to mention that we might have put something in your stew. A spell, to be exact. Well, Megumi did—not me. But I told him to. Did I mention he’s a witch? So I wouldn’t bother with trying to flap those wings.”
Your lungs hollowed out, and for the first time, you understood what fear truly meant, and it was consuming.
But you were your father’s daughter. The Crown Princess of the Night. If this was to be your end, you would face it with dignity. You refused to die a grovelling fool.
“Fine. You win,” you spat at him, but stood your ground, holding your head high. “If you’re going to kill me, then just do it.”
Satoru raised a brow. “What? Oh no, no, no. You’ve mistaken me. You’re my esteemed guest. I’m not going to kill you… yet. That would certainly do me no favours with your father. And I do so want to meet him again.”
It dawned on you then—the plan he orchestrated, your capture—the real target had never been you.
The Six Eyes was after the King of Vampires.
Your voice turned venomous. There was no point in hiding your true nature. Not anymore. “You really are a fool if you believe my father will be so easily defeated.”
Satoru answered with his own grin. “Oh, I don’t believe. I know. Because I now have, in my possession, the only thing Sukuna treasures most in his entire undead existence. And I have no doubt he’ll want it back… most desperately.” He gave you a mocking bow. “A warm welcome, Your Most Immortal Highness. You’re stuck here with us whether you like it or not, so I urge you to make yourself at home.”
You were hungry.
There was nothing but rodents. Small mice squeaking in the dim corners of the halls, and big, fat rats scurrying about in the barren larder, picking on scraps of rotten vegetables.
But you would not stoop so low… not until you had to. Three nights had passed since your last feed, and you knew that the Six Eyes knew vampires could technically survive without blood, though they’d be immensely weakened, reduced to a husk—a withered shell of themselves, like a dried prune. But they wouldn’t die. Not truly.
He was starving you on purpose. The bastard. And perhaps it was even more wicked that he gave you free reign to wander about the manor estate as you pleased, yet denied you of the very sustenance you craved.
And worst of all? The most delicious blood you’d ever smelled was flowing in the veins of the very man who held you hostage. It seemed you were not only a captive, but captivated with the thought of biting him.
Your skin was starting to itch. The first sign of withdrawal. You’d never experienced it before—being a princess and all that—but it seemed like you were experiencing a lot of firsts as of late. None of them particularly enjoyable.
You stomped through the garden, as if the snow you crushed underneath your slippers were to be blamed for your current predicament. Dirt clung to the hem of your dress, torn fabric hanging off and exposing your shoulder to the chilly, midnight air. But you’d rather your own clothes than the unsightly peasant’s sack one of them—the Six Eyes or the child—had left outside your bedroom door for you to change into.
Not wanting to sequester yourself in the manor and breathe the same air as Satoru Gojo—and his maddening scent—you’d come out to the gardens the moment the sun disappeared, only returning to lock yourself in your room again right before dawn. At first, you’d wondered why you weren’t followed. Surely they’d anticipate you would risk the spikes and try to climb over the fence. Your suspicions were soon confirmed when you realised that the fences surrounding the estate had simply… vanished.
And in replacement was an infinite sea of snow, stretching on and on and around the perimeter of the estate. White and never-ending. That little witch boy must have put some kind of enchantment on this place. Whenever you tried to cross what you remembered was the threshold between the property and the outside world, it was like walking in loops, because you’d just pop back out a few steps behind.
You wandered through the statue garden, where a collection of stern, moss-covered figures stared down at you, as if they were passing judgement on you for disobeying your father, and now you were paying the price for that stupidity.
“Searching for stray cats to feed on, princess?”
Satoru Gojo stepped out from behind a faceless statue, as if he’d materialised out of thin air.
You scowled at him. “What do you want?”
He chuckled. “Not so decorous anymore, are you, princess? I was just dropping by to check on how my lovely guest is faring—“
“I’ll fare better when you let me leave this forsaken place.”
“Come now, it’s not that bad. Haven’t I provided you with every comfort? You have a nice room, you can go about the estate as you please, do whatever you wish. Why, I don’t think I’ve treated any vampire this graciously before—well, not that it ever gets to that point since they would already be dead. Like that lover of yours.”
“Stop calling him that. He’s not my lover,” you snapped. “And if you’re here to merely goad me on, then do kindly fuck off. I don’t wish to spend the rest of my walk listening to your inane drivelling.”
“Still pissy, I see, which means you’re doing more than fine.” He shrugged. “Shame. I was going to offer you some blood, but since you’re so energised, I guess you won’t be needing it.”
“If you’re slicing up rats to offer to me, then you can go feed it up your—“
“Rats? Who said anything about rats? You think I don’t know creatures like you are only sustained with one type of blood?”
“You think I’d believe you would draw blood from a human to feed me?”
“Well, I wouldn’t need to draw blood from anyone. I’d just let you take a bite.”
You couldn’t tell if he was being serious. “And who is this person? A condemned prisoner you bought off the gallows? I don’t drink tainted blood.”
“Heavens, no. I would never be so crude, princess. Not even when I slay you…eventually.”
Your eyes narrowed. “Then what kind of human is it?”
“Only the best kind.” His grin widened. “Me, of course.”
Your throat bobbed, and worse, he noticed. He propped himself against the edge of the statue’s pedestal, and tilted his head aside.
“This is what you’ve been staring at, am I right?” He traced a finger down the side of his neck, taunting. Unravelling the firm grip you had on your self control from the inside out in a matter of seconds.
You dug your toes into the sharp points of your slippers, refusing to lose any more composure. “How do I know you’re not lying?”
“Why would I? There’s no reason to. I need you looking alive and well for when your father comes to collect you. That is, after he agrees to my demands, which will take some time. It seems being alive for centuries can turn one dreadfully stubborn. Though, I do have something I’d like you to do for me first…”
He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small vial filled with shimmering blue liquid.
“It’s the same stuff we put into your stew,” he said, holding up the vial for you to better see. “The previous spell should be wearing off, and we can’t have you suddenly sprouting wings. I’m going to need you to drink it before you drink me. ”
A bargain. You should have known his offer came with conditions. And could it even be called manipulation if he wasn’t trying to hide it?
Whether you accepted or not, the outcome would be the same. You’d remain stuck here. It was either starve and turn into a prune, or take the potion and feed on him. Whichever you chose, you still wouldn’t have your wings.
Why make it harder, was what you convinced yourself as you trudged over and snatched the vial, uncorked it, and poured it down your throat, all the while glaring at him.
“There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He said, catching the empty vial you flung back at him, tossing it aside. He patted his lap. “Come here, princess. Time for your reward.”
The annoying tug in your chest piqued again, progressing to a thunderous pounding as you approached, and lowered yourself onto him.
This close—touching—the heady scent of him engulfed you. Irresistible. Intoxicating.
But you weren’t about to let him reduce you to a mewling buffoon. He’d had the upper hand for long enough. You were born an apex predator. You held the uncontested throne at the peak of the foodchain.
And you would show him exactly how you treated your prey.
You smiled, and placed your hands on him, sliding them down the solid plain of his chest. Your voice lowered to a soft melody. “There’s something I’ve been wondering about, and I think you can help me out with it, Satoru…”
You sensed his pulse quicken, but those blue eyes remained fixed on you in calm amusement. “Oh? Now I’m curious. As I’ve said before, all you have to do is ask. Though it doesn’t mean you’ll get the answer you’re hoping for.”
Your hand moved up to his undeniably stunning face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “I couldn’t help but notice that you find me beautiful. Is it true? Do I appeal to you?”
A corner of his lips curved upwards. “Are you trying to compel me, princess? If so, you need not bother. I’ll simply tell you that while I may find you very, very attractive, I will never forget what you are. What you and your kind do to humans. What your true nature is—” the glimmer in his eyes darkened. “Cold. Heartless. A stain on this world. A creature that should be sent back to the deepest pits of the underworld.”
You felt something sharp dig into the side of your waist, and looked down.
Silver glinted back at you, pale moonlight reflecting off the polished blade.
“A knife?” You laughed. “Are you flirting with me? How romantic.”
He wound an arm around you, locking you in place against the blade’s tip.
“Thrilling, no?” He smirked. “Wouldn’t want you sucking me dry the first time when we have so many more nights to spend like this.”
Oh, he was good. Too good. You’d never met a human who resisted your compulsion this effectively, and at the same time, compelled you right back.
But two could play his game.
Your hand trailed to the back of his neck, fingers weaving into his soft, snowy hair. “Clearly, Satoru, you have never been bitten before. Because you wouldn’t be saying that to me if you had. Because instead, you’d be begging me to drain you to a corpse.”
You fisted his hair, and yanked his head aside. Your lips grazed up the length of his delectable neck.
“Are you ready, Six Eyes?” you whispered. “If there’s one thing I can promise you, it’s that this will be your awakening, and your biggest regret.”
That delicious pulse of his raced under his skin. But he merely scoffed, “Do your best, princess.”
You parted your lips, and what was previously blunt canine teeth started to elongate, sharpening into two pin-prick points.
And finally, your fangs sunk into his flesh.
The taste of him—it decimated the world around you. There was no before. There was no after. Only the overwhelming high that floated inside and through you. An inexplicable, devastating pleasure that gushed down your throat and drummed through every fibre of your being.
If such a thing as heaven existed, then it was him.
A soft groan. His grip on your waist tightened. “This is—fuck….”
You gulped down more of him, helpless to the ultimate bliss that consumed you. The better he felt, the more you wanted. More than this. More than blood. You wanted everything.
All of him.
Still gripping his hair, you slid your free hand back down his chest, and then further down, and down some more, until you felt him—the thick, straining length of him, hard against your palm.
Another groan escaped him, louder this time, as you rubbed him through the fabric of his breeches. And the sound he made…it unravelled you, just as much as you knew you were unravelling him. You wanted to hear him again. You could hear him forever.
“Don’t...” His voice had deepened to a slow lull as you increased both the pressure of your hand and your mouth on his neck. “Oh god—yes…”
A muffled crunch. Something heavy had fallen on the snow, and you knew it was his knife. Then his hands were on you, ripping your dress in half down the neckline.
Icy winds kissed your cold skin, and then his hand was on your breast, the other underneath your skirt, dragging up and up and dipping between the apex of your thighs.
You moaned, a stream of blood leaking down the side of your mouth, as his warm fingers met what you couldn’t hide, sliding up the centre of your slick folds.
Never—never before had anyone made you lose yourself like this. Not Naoya. Not all your past suitors. And for a human to—how was he even moving? He was supposed to be pliant. Limp. A puddle of mush under your thrall.
Instead, your moans grew louder as his fingers worked you in broad strokes. Your feeding grew careless, more blood spilling out and smearing around your mouth.
You would eat him alive. You would—
You released the fastening on his breeches, tugging the strings loose.
His breath hitched. “What are you—“
You unlatched, your fangs receding back into teeth as you found his gaze. And in his eyes, you saw a war. A collision of heaven and hell. Temptation and sin. The unmistakable glaze of lust, and perhaps, something more.
“Hush, Satoru,” you said, placing a finger on his lips. Licking his blood off your own. “I’m not done yet.”
You pulled away, and bent on your knees before him. You yanked his breeches down further, freeing his cock—thick and flushed and hard enough to ache. It was a beast.
And damn propriety, you needed all of it. Now.
You pressed your lips to his tip, and licked him. Licked at the beads of moisture seeping out his slit, and then took him in your mouth, and sucked.
“God, I—you’re… fuck it.” He let out a low, guttural groan. His fingers dived into your hair. He seemed to have collected enough of himself, because his voice steadied. “You want me this bad, princess? You can have me.”
You felt the rough tug of his fists in your hair, gripping you so tight your couldn’t move on your own accord. Then he was shoving the full length of him down your throat.
You gagged, constricting around his thickness that filled you entirely. Your hands clutched onto his hips for purchase, eyes shuttering as he manoeuvred your head to pump you full of him, right up to the hilt.
“I will vanquish you,” he said. “One day. This, I swear. But today, I will do it with my cock.”
In one swift motion, he pulled out. The next thing you knew, you were bent facing the statue, hands on the cracked pedestal as he lifted your skirt, and plunged two fingers into you.
It was—your mind blanked.
You cried out as he drove into you, so deep, so unforgiving, his fingers curling just right, as if he knew the exact way to break you apart.
“So wet, princess,” he murmured, breath ghosting your ear. “And all I did was bleed for you.”
You didn’t get the chance to retort. His fingers thrust again, harder, obscene sounds spilling from the tight clutch of your body. Every pump made your knees buckle, every curl of his knuckles tore another strangled moan from your throat.
His other hand slid up your spine, fingers trailing your exposed skin until they closed around the back of your neck, making you arch for him like you existed for nothing else.
He pressed his lips to the shell of your ear.
“You’re going to come on my fingers,” he said, voice quiet as the knife he hadn’t bothered retrieving. “And then I’m going to fuck you. Right here. In front of all my stone-faced ancestors. Let them watch your fall from grace.”
You should snarl. You should spit in his face.
Instead, you rocked back on his fingers like a starving creature chasing a high.
Because that was what he was—your undoing. The deadly storm you couldn’t help but be drawn into.
“Look at you,” he whispered, and there was a softness in his tone that didn’t match with the words he spoke. “Princess of the Night, losing herself on a human’s hand. If there’s ever a sight I shall remember, it is this…”
He shoved his fingers deeper. You gasped as he curved inside you, so perfectly, dragging a sound from your throat you didn’t recognise, and you shattered, a brutal climax consuming you so fully you couldn’t think past the blinding stars in your vision.
He withdrew his fingers, making you shudder at the sudden emptiness—only for him to grab your hips, drag you back against him, and grind the hard length of his cock between your thighs, sliding along your soaked heat.
You nearly collapsed.
“Say it,” he murmured, lips dragging down your throat from behind. “Say you want me inside you.”
You heard it clearer this time. He might not be fully compelled but the aphrodisiac from your bite was still flowing inside him. But beneath the manic frenzy, hidden behind the veil of his rough words and rough hands, you didn’t miss it… his desire. His desperation. For you.
So you spoke what he couldn’t bring himself to say, your voice spilling into the night like a confession.
Not a plea. A recognition.
“I want you, Satoru… I can’t help it.”
A hitch in his breath. A tremor in his grip. A ripple of unseen power, stirring like a beast awakened.
“You—” his voice frayed. “You’re—fuck.”
He couldn’t even finish the sentence as he twisted you around to lift you up, legs straddling him, and backed you up against the statue, pinning you tight against unyielding stone.
Yours mouths crashed together, a clash of tongue and teeth, the leash barely restraining the both of you snapping at last. Your hands were on him. His hands were on you. A melding of fire and ice, consuming one another with no end.
And with his tongue filling your mouth, he dropped you down on his cock.
You moaned into him, feeling him go deeper, and deeper still. Until you felt him everywhere. In your bones, in your breath. In the frantic, traitorous flutter you barely recognised as a pulse.
You shouldn’t feel like this. You shouldn’t feel at all. Not for a human. Not for a slayer. Not for him. What you thought was hunger for his blood was—
He thrusted into you again, and you lost your train of thought. All that you were narrowed on the way his cock was stretching you out, so exquisitely, that you could only clench harder around him. As though your body had decided on its own that he belonged there.
“Why do you—” Satoru bit out, only to choke on a groan as your body clamped around him again like a vice. “Why the hell does this—why must you feel so fucking good—”
Eyes heavy-lidded, you peered up to find his gaze fixed on you. An incandescent blue that overwhelmed you, his pupil blown wide, hair tousled from your grip, dark red smears painted all over his neck.
And you realised what he already had. That he was ruined for you just as much as you were for him.
“You shouldn’t fit me like this.” His lips brushed against yours, so tender it jarred you. “You shouldn’t fit like you were made for me…”
A crackle in the air. A surge of—something bigger… ancient. Something inevitable—coiling between and around your bodies. Humming under your skin. Vibrating through your blood. Like a thread pulled taut. A door the both of you hadn’t meant to open.
Something binding.
Something was wrong.
Your kind didn’t pull. Your kind didn’t bind. Your kind didn’t—
Then Satoru was laughing. An incredulous, bitter laugh. “Oh, this is cruel... fate just loves to fuck with me.”
Before you could form a reply, he was fucking into you again. Harder this time. Relentless. A man possessed. Your fingers dug into his back, clawing against his tunic.
“S-Satoru—ahn!” You cried out his name. Over and over again as he impaled you, each deep, savage thrust obliterating your mind to dust. Ripping your soul from your body.
Release barrelled through you as he pushed you over the edge. A bottomless freefall that wiped your mind clean of anything save the explosive rush encompassing you in its totality. Then you felt him, warm and spilling into you with a final thrust.
But you didn’t let go. Neither did he. Your mouths found each other again, moving in a rhythm of pure instinct, long and slow, deep and searching for the very thing you could not yet name.
If you could, you would stay like this forever, with him buried inside you and the heat of his caresses against your tongue. Wrapped in his arms until your bodies became one.
And for the first time, you were not cold.
Then Satoru was pulling away.
Gently, he set you back down, and picked up his coat you just now noticed was lying in the snow. He threw it around your shoulders and pulled it closed, the heavy fabric settling over your bare chest where your dress hung in tatters.
He stepped back, and released a heavy breath.
“Go home, princess,” he said.
You didn’t think you heard him right. “You’re—you’re letting me leave?”
“There’s a vial in your right pocket.” He gestured at his coat around you. “It cancels out any spell’s effects. I was going to use it if you had succeeded in compelling me, but I guess you’ll need those wings if you want to make it back before sunrise. Megumi’s barrier enchantment answers to my will, so you should be able to cross the threshold now. Besides, I’d advice against walking—I dug up a lot of pits around the area.”
You stared at him.
He was serious. The look on his face confirmed it, for it was a look you could only recognise as utter defeat. After everything—your capture, his plan to lure your father, his repeated threats to kill you—he would just…send you off?
“Why?” you asked.
But Satoru was already retreating. He laughed, as if he couldn’t believe it himself. “Now there’s a question that won’t do you any good if I answer.”
You watched him head back in the direction of his miserable, decaying manor.
Your feet moved before you could think.
“Wait—“ you called out. Saw him hesitate. “What if—what if I stayed?”
His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t turn around. His reply came too quick. To easily. “My, my, and here I am thinking you’re smarter than this.” He waved his hand, flippantly. “Game’s over, princess. Happy flapping.”
This was it. This was your cue to leave. But instead, you were moving faster, as if there was an invisible string tied around the both of you, connecting you together, and it was pulling you towards him.
You grabbed his arm, stopping him mid-stride. Satoru’s gaze darted to you, as if he hadn’t meant to but couldn’t help it.
You reached for his face, your palm resting softly against his cheek.
“If you’re going to lie, Satoru,” you said. “At least look at me while you do it.”
A flicker in his infinite blue eyes, and for once he looked… lost. Like he’d stopped fighting. Not surrender, but acceptance. Like he’d uncovered a terrible truth—a force he knew he could not win.
It was snowing. White flakes drifted down from the sky like a shower of feathers, as quiet as Satoru’s voice.
“Princess...” he said. “I—you’re my—“
The sky boomed.
Not thunder.
A voice.
A deafening roar that rattled the stars and shook the lands. The furious roar of a great beast smiting his ire down from the heavens.
A roar you could not mistake for any other.
“Satoru Gojo!” Sukuna’s menacing bellow echoed with the wind, and the night seemed to grow darker. “You thought I wouldn’t find you first?”
Your head snapped up to the sky, at what you could not see outside Megumi’s enchanted barrier.
You should be relieved. Your father had come to rescue you. He would kill the evil slayer and take you back to safety.
You held Satoru tighter.
Satoru spared one more second—just one—his eyes completely fixed on you, and in that glance, you saw his whole world. Everything he would not show you.
Then his mask slipped back on.
“Huh, daddy’s early,” Satoru said. “Doesn’t sound too happy, either.”
The sky wavered, like the billowing of an iridescent sheet, and began melting as the enchantment over the manor estate broke down bit by bit, the endless snowy plains beyond the threshold dissolving away. You saw the the iron gates, the spiked fences, the forest—
And descending from the sky—a great winged shadow that blotted out the night itself.
The ground trembled as Sukuna, all eight arms and four eyes, landed a few paces from you and Satoru. You also saw the shift in his expression. The cold, immortal fury morphing into a viciousness you had never seen in him before, as he beheld the sight of you and Satoru, bodies pressed up against each other, your hands still on his face.
But your father did not shout or snarl. He spoke, quiet as looming death, and it was worse.
“You took my daughter. You used her to threaten me. And now you dare defile her?” Both pairs of Sukuna’s crimson eyes narrowed on Satoru. “Have you been so desperate for my attention all these years that you would resort to such unscrupulous tricks?”
Satoru scoffed, and pulled away from you, striding forward. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you? So I’d say it worked out fine. I should actually applaud you for finding me this quickly, and for breaking through my barrier. Now if you have no more use for Megumi, do inform your big, fat blood-sucking bird flying above my property to return my witch to me.”
You father’s mouth sliced upwards. “I see your perception has not dulled with age, Six Eyes. Though it will make no difference after I’m done with you.”
Another figure swooped down from the sky, pale and slender, dropping next to Sukuna.
“My king.” Uraume bowed, and then did the same to you. “Princess. I apologise for the wait.”
But you weren’t focused on any part of Uraume other than what they were holding. Bound with ropes, a gag in his mouth, was Megumi, dangling off the ground as Uraume held him up like hunted game.
“Has the Six Eyes agreed to the terms yet?” Uraume asked, flatly.
“I doubt he has a choice, unless he doesn’t mind me gutting his little witch and feeding its intestines to my hellhounds.”
“Father—“ you started, but cut yourself short before you said something damning. It was bad enough that you were wearing Satoru’s coat, and your father was a man who never missed a thing…and it’s implications. “I—he didn’t hurt me.”
All four of Sukuna’s eyes slid towards you, narrowing slightly, as if he saw right through your words. “We shall talk, daughter. But later. I have a bargain I wish to strike with the Six Eyes.”
Satoru’s laugh was humourless. “Bargain? I don’t recall inviting you over for tea and cakes. I called you here to kill you, King of the Night. To fight. One on one. Slayer and blood-sucker.”
Sukuna smirked. “But the battle has already begun, slayer. And you have already lost. Why do you think my daughter hasn’t tried to run to my side? Are you so obsessed with killing me that your Six Eyes can see nothing else?”
Satoru fists clenched. “You killed Suguru.”
“He burnt my wife on a pyre.”
You froze.
Your father had never spoken about your mother before. All this time, he’d led you to believe you were the product of an affair with a low-born vampire. That he’d abandoned her but took you in and raised you as his heir. You didn’t even know her name, if she was even alive and wandering about New Transylvania while you were growing up in a castle with an army of servants at your beck and call. That she’d died.
“You’ve been a thorn in my side, and menace to my kind for long enough, Six Eyes. It’s time to end this,” Sukuna said, the tips of his claws growing longer and longer to sharpened points. “Listen well, Satoru Gojo, because I will not be so generous if I have to repeat myself again. You will surrender yourself. Willingly. In exchange, I will not kill your little witch. You will be coming with me to my castle, where you will await your execution in front of all my subjects. Uraume will stay here until I have sent word. You will be dead by then, but the boy will be freed.”
What? Your body went rigid. No…
Megumi bit out a muffled protest and shook his head violently.
Your legs moved towards your father. Past Satoru, who didn’t stop you.
“There’s no need for this,” you said. “He was going to let me go when you arrived. Leave him here. We’ll go back home. He won’t come after us, I promise.”
Sukuna glanced down at you, his gaze softening momentarily. But he said, “I do not wish to perpetuate this blood feud any longer, and the only way this ends is with his death. You should have a clean slate when you ascend the throne.”
“I don’t want you to kill him—“
“Not here, daughter. Not now.”
“But I—he and I… I think he’s—“
“Fine,” you heard Satoru say behind you. He sighed. “Have it your way. But if I see Megumi in hell, I will personally come back as a very annoying ghost and haunt you for eternity, which is a long time for someone like you.”
You spun, a horrible pit forming in your stomach. “Don’t,” you said. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t—I can’t let you—“
But Satoru wouldn’t meet your eyes. Instead, he turned to Megumi, still gagged and bound, and said, “Remember to spell the roses. Don’t let them die.” Then he yawned, and stretched his arms over his head. “Alright, shall we get moving before I fall asleep? It’s been a long night.”
The entire castle was convinced you had gone mad.
The princess… reading? Surely you were not the same vampire they knew. The only times you’d ever stepped foot in the library was during lessons. Even then, you’d always convinced your tutors to conduct them in the gazebo, or while you strolled around your gardens, half listening to whatever they were droning on about. You had not seen a point in suffocating yourself among stale air and dusty tomes when you could be outside with the moon and stars.
That dastardly Six Eyes must have switched you with someone else, everyone thought. Their Crown Princess was gifted in many things—lounging, frolicking, taking long milk baths and ordering the servants around—but academics was not one of them.
So it was no wonder you had everyone perplexed, and frankly, immensely concerned, when you arrived back at the castle and proceeded to lock yourself up in the library every single night without fail. It had reached a point where you’d ordered for all of your meals to be taken there, and for a cot to be set up so you wouldn’t have to make the long trip back to your quarters when your eyes couldn’t stay open any longer.
Because, for once in your immortal existence, you had work to do. That, and you had to preoccupy yourself with something, anything, to keep you from agonising over the fact that Satoru was rotting away in the dungeons below.
Your father had given explicit orders that no one was to visit the Six Eyes until the Red Feast, which was to be the night of his execution. Not even to sneer or spit in his face. And no matter what you said, or how you said it, he wouldn’t change his mind.
But tonight would be different. You’d done your research. You’d combed through every text on humans, on slayers, on the history of vampires, from ancient scripts to tomes heavier than a tombstone to the most obscure spell books, until finally finding a thread to follow.
Slowly, laboriously, you put the pieces together. Slowly, you’d understood.
And now you would confirm it.
When you entered your father’s chambers, you saw that the thick drapes were pulled open. He was by the window, back towards you, already dressed in ceremonial attire. The pale crimson glow of the blood moon, hanging low in the sky outside, glinted off the rubies embedded into the crown he wore.
“We should have that talk,” you said, without greeting. He would have already guessed why you were here.
“It will have to wait.” He didn’t turn around. “The feast has begun. We have guests to entertain. You are to announce your chosen suitor tonight. The Zenin boy is dead, so I don’t expect it will be him. But it still doesn’t relieve you of the duty you must fulfil.”
“You are executing my bonded mate tonight, father. I think I deserve answers before you slice him in half.”
Sukuna stiffened slightly. “Are you certain you want to toss that term around so carelessly? Is this why you’ve taken a recent interest in books? I’d advice you not to trust everything you read.”
“Careless I may have been, but it is the truth. I cannot deny it. The same as I cannot deny an impending avalanche. He is my mate. You know this as well as I. Perhaps better.”
“And what makes you think I know anything about it?”
“Well, you should since you had one before. You had my mother. She was your mate, wasn’t she? Before you lost her. She may still be. I imagine a force this strong would be able to persist beyond death. It would explain why you’re always so sullen.”
“If you are hoping I will be persuaded into rescinding the execution, then I will have to disappoint you.”
“I am not hoping for anything. I swear to you I will do my duty and pick a suitor tonight. But first, I want answers.”
For a long while, Sukuna didn’t speak. Then he faced you, and nodded once. Barely. “Ask your questions,” he said. “And I will answer what befits answering.”
“Mother was human.”
“That is not a question.”
“And so am I. Not fully, but enough to… feel.”
“Still not a question.”
You approached him, peering up at his towering figure. “Those are facts, father. What I want to know is why—why would you deny me what completes my soul when you know what it’s like to have lost yours?”
You might have imagined it, but you thought you saw his expression soften. There and gone in less than a blink.
“Because it is not what we are designed for,” he said. “You are a vampire, daughter. You have been raised as one, and will continue to be one for eons. Until the world had crumbled to ashes and dust, and still you will prevail. Humans are fleeting. They only serve us one purpose. You’d do well to understand this.”
“But Satoru is not fully human too, is he?”
The corners of Sukuna’s eyes tightened. “I do not know what he is—perhaps a sorcerer, but those have been extinct a long, long time ago. What I know is that he is mortal enough. His life is finite. To be rid of him now is a mercy, before the attachment grows. In this, you should trust me.”
“It is already irrefutable, father.” You took one of his hands in yours. The one he always favoured using to stroke your hair when you were little. “Was my mother burnt for being attached to you? Because the humans—this Suguru—found out she was involved not only with a vampire, but with their king?”
You felt his hand tense. Then his fingers wrapped around yours, gently.
“Listen well, daughter, because I’m only going to say this once—“ Sukuna sighed, and it was the loosening of a breath you suspected he’d held in for a lifetime. “The last time I saw your mother was also the last time she saw you. We’d agreed that we would keep you away from anything to do with humans other than feeding on them. To have a relationship with your prey will only complicate things for you. But your mother could never stay away for long, so every few months, I’d visit her, and take her here. She would disguise herself as a servant and watch you from afar for a few hours. Then I would bring her back to the village before dawn. But on the last night—before she was condemned to die—a slayer saw her. Saw me with her. I wanted to go after the slayer, but she assured me nothing would come of it. She believed no harm would befall her because she was human. I shouldn’t have listened. That is the story. Satisfied?”
He let go of your hand and began striding out the room. “Come. We want to be fashionably late, but not rudely so.”
You followed after him. “So I’m not wrong. You can feel, too.”
A quiet scoff.
“Stare at something too long, daughter, and you will find it stares back.”
Satoru was brought out in chains.
You hadn’t spoken to anyone since gracing the court with your presence, and had remained brooding in the throne beside your father’s on the elevated dias. Besides the occasional nod, all you did was stare at the roses in the garden—the customary location for the Red Feast—and the moon crowning the night sky, painted the same shade as the flowers you adored.
Your mercurial demeanour did not go unnoticed, though no one dared comment on it. Especially in front of Sukuna, lest they wanted to end up staked in front of the castle gates. They must have assumed you were not too thrilled about having to pick another suitor since Naoya was no more. It was no secret that he’d been the closest candidate to becoming the prince consort.
But the moment the music stopped, you sat up straighter.
Two guards appeared, dragging Satoru through the hush of the parting crowd towards the dias. Heavy manacles bound his wrists and ankles. He was still in the same clothes from that night, now soiled and marred with dungeon filth, his snowy hair limp and matted against his head.
It seemed your father had succeeded in making the infamous Six Eyes look as pathetic as possible on his last night alive, at least in appearance. But where he’d lost was in Satoru’s expression, for there was nothing pathetic about the resolve in his blue eyes.
Eyes that immediately, implicitly, found yours as he was made to kneel at the foot of the dias.
A corner of his lips curved upwards.
“Good evening,” he said, gaze fixed entirely on you. “Nice place you’ve got here—beautiful.”
It took everything in you not to shoot up from your seat and run to him. You were clutching the armrests of the throne so hard that the wood started cracking.
And the court must have seen it, because they took your reaction as their cue to hiss and jeer.
“He is distressing the princess!” someone shouted.
“Scum!”
“Rot in hell!”
“Kill him!”
“Enough,” Sukuna said.
The silence that followed was instantaneous.
Sukuna stood, and approached the edge of the dias in a single stride to peer down at Satoru. Your father had never been one to drag a moment with long speeches, preferring to cut straight to the crux of the matter. In this, he was no different.
“I won’t ask if you have any last words, because they are not important,” he said, cold and imperious. “What matters is that with your death, we shall finally have some semblance of peace.”
Sukuna held out his hand. Another guard appeared, hurrying up the dias with a large case, and from it, your father pulled out a simple longsword.
A sword with a blade of silver.
Gasps escaped the gathered court, more than a few retreating back a few steps.
Sukuna ignored them, and continued. “You will die tonight, Six Eyes, by the very weapon slayers like you use to kill our kind.” He stepped down the dias. “Guards, prepare him.”
You watched as Satoru was forced to bend over on his knees. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t hear anything past the roaring storm in your head, the pounding in your chest. You tore your gaze from Satoru to the blade your father was raising high in the air, positioned for a clean cut.
“Let’s get it over with,” Sukuna said.
He brought the blade down.
“Wait!”
The blade halted, inches from Satoru’s neck.
You were standing.
Your father was looking at you, and so was every member of the court.
Satoru was looking at you.
You willed your voice to steady, and spoke. “I have decided on who is to be my betrothed, father. I wish to announce it.”
Sukuna frowned. “It can wait until after the execution.”
“No. It cannot.”
Your body was moving down the dias, then in front of the silver sword and your father.
“It cannot wait,” you said, “because I choose to be betrothed to Satoru Gojo.”
The escalation happened gradually. For awhile, the only sound was the wind as confusion washed through the entire court. They weren’t sure if they heard you right, only for realisation to hit like a hailstorm when you bent down and took Satoru’s face in your hands.
Ever so gently, you stroked his cheek.
“You’re right,” you whispered. “You and me—we were planned all along.”
Satoru stared at you, and in his eyes, you saw his ruination.
His lips parted. “Princess, I—“
“Traitor!”
Someone had stepped out of the crowd. Naobito Zenin. Head of the Zenin clan of vampires, and Naoyo’s father.
“The princess is a traitor,” he seethed, jabbing a finger at you. “Now it makes sense. You think I’d accept that my son, a Zenin, would be killed so easily? She must have conspired with the Six Eyes to murder him. How else can a slayer known to be so incompetent kill so many of us? The princess was never captured. She was helping him. This whole time, she was fraternising with the enemy!”
His accusation seemed to embolden the crowd. Cries of protests resounded through the garden, and now that head of the second most powerful vampire family had denounced you in front of the king, the others were suddenly much braver.
“Is this how you raised your daughter, King of the Night?” Naobito growled. “To turn against her own kind? To betray us for becoming a slayer’s whor—”
But Sukuna’s own growl shook the very cliff holding his castle.
“You dare slander my daughter, Zenin?” Your father was no longer calm. “Open that despicable mouth of yours again and I will fill your throat with silver.”
Naobito dared laugh. “You will do nothing of the sort. She may be your daughter, but she’s just signed her own existence to dust. Or is our king not familiar with the law he created himself? Vampires are forbidden from fornicating with humans, on pain of death. She may be a princess, but she is not exempted from it.”
“He is my mate,” you hissed.
That shut Naobito up. But for only a second. Then his face morphed into something hideous. “You are smarter than I took you for—using our most sacred law to hide behind. There hasn’t been a bond amongst our kind in centuries, and even if it is true, merely declaring it will not save you and your human.”
“That is not what I’m declaring, you swine piss. You forget I also named him my betrothed.”
“Irrelevant. Our law forbids a human to sit on the throne—“
“God,” Satoru’s voice cut him short. “You vampires bicker more than my dead grandmother.” He was still on the ground, the manacles around his ankles keeping him from standing, but he straighten up as much as he could. “Look, there’s a simple way to solve this. Just do what you were going to do before and kill me. There, settled. Now you can all stop fighting over me. I will die, and the princess can go back to being a princess. Happy?”
“No.” You knew what he was trying to do, and you wouldn’t let him. You faced your father. “I do not expect you to break your own laws for me, father. So I will adhere to them,” you said. “Line six hundred sixty three to six hundred sixty six, passage thirty three, volume six of the First Scripture—if a bond is in doubt, then the bonded has the right to prove it by invoking the Sun Trial, after which the claimed bond cannot be refuted should they succeed.”
Sukuna said nothing while he studied you, mouth drawn in a tight line. But you’d caught it—the slight twitch at the corners, something almost akin to approval. He exhaled, quietly, then glanced at the guards.
“Release the human.”
Naobito’s fangs flashed. “This is treachery. I will not stand for this—“
“It is in our laws,” Sukuna interrupted. “Laws that you’ve been proclaiming to know better than me. Are you going to dismiss them now, Zenin?”
“The slayer is still human, and the princess has still committed treason. If you are too weak to strike your own daughter down, then I will do it for you.”
Sukuna’s eyes darkened, but he did not stoop to Naobito’s taunt. “By all means, kill her if you want,” he said. “But you will have to hunt her down first, in accordance with the Sun Trial. As for the human—“
The manacles around Satoru’s wrists had barely touched the ground when Sukuna stepped forward and, in one swift motion, pierced the silver blade through his stomach.
Satoru’s eyes widened as he stared down at the blade pulling out of him. Stared at the dark gush of blood, pooling. Dripping onto the snow-covered ground before his own body fell, collapsing.
“No…” Everything in you shattered. “No, no, no…”
You dropped down next to Satoru. You were calling his name. Using your hands to staunch the blood, but it was futile.
“The Six Eyes has received his punishment,” Sukuna declared. “The Sun Trial is now commenced. The Crown Princess and her mate will have to survive until the next nightfall, after which their bond will be recognised, and their union protected by our most sacred law. In the meantime, all vampires, from any status, will have free reign to hunt them down until dawn breaks.” He tossed the blade aside. “On your feet, daughter.”
You were shaking. You glared up at your father. “I will never forgive you for this.”
But Sukuna only peered down, cold and imperious.
“You do not need to,” he said. “Now run.”
At his words, you moved on instinct.
You shifted. Your wings unfurled.
Then you were hauling Satoru up into the sky.
You were going to die.
“There,” you said, dragging Satoru behind a dense copse of trees. “We can’t stay long. You’re going to bleed out if we don’t get you to the village soon.”
“I’m… fine…”
“You’re dying, Satoru.”
“Dying… not dead…”
Gently, you leaned him against a tree trunk, and crouched down next to him. You tore more fabric off your skirt and added to the blood-soaked wrappings around Satoru’s stomach.
Satoru winced as you knotted it tightly over his wound. His lips were pale, his breaths shallow and struggling.
“You should go,” he said, finally stringing his sentences better now that he was resting.
“I’m not going anywhere without you.”
“We won’t reach the village… you know this.”
You did, but you wouldn’t accept it. You pressed your hands against his stomach, applying more pressure. “We’ll find a way,” you said.
Flying was out of the question. The sky was infested with vampires. The entire court was out hunting for you, and if you so much as flapped your wings, they would surround you and that would be it.
The only option was by foot. To dart between the cover of the forest, but darting implied you could move quickly, which wasn’t the case given Satoru’s worsening condition.
His eyes were falling shut.
You slapped his face.
“Don’t you dare close them,” you warned him, panicking. “Not now that I’ve carried your sorry ass halfway through this fucking forest.”
A weak chuckle. “A kiss would’ve been better.”
“I’ll kiss you after we’re done with this blasted trial. That way you’ll have something to look forward to.”
“What if… I say please?”
You hesitated, the thing in your chest you now recognised as your heart, twisting.
You leaned in, and brushed your lips against his.
Satoru caught your mouth, deepening the kiss, and you couldn’t help but part for him. For his tongue to sweep in and claim you, long and slow, tender and painfully desperate.
“Like heaven…” he breathed.
You stroked his cheek. “We should get going.”
“I think... I’ll stay here.”
“I told you I’m not—”
“Listen…”
“No. I’m helping you up. We’re going to keep moving—”
“I said listen…” He tilted his head up, and you realised then what he meant.
Because you heard it, too.
The lack of sound. No more flapping wings. No more screeching.
The sky was silent.
Which only meant one thing.
Satoru’s gaze met yours again. “You have to go…”
But you’d known this would happen. Your plan hadn’t been to reach the village, but to get him as close as possible before sunrise. You’d perish, but at least there was a higher chance another human would pass through and find him.
You steeled yourself, and took his arm. “Come on.”
“Princess—“
“Stop being so stubborn. How many times do I have to repeat that I’m not going anywhere without you.”
“I’m not… the stubborn one here…”
“Move, Satoru.”
But he refused, slumping his weight down further against the tree trunk.
“I said move!”
“You move…”
“You stupid, stupid fool!” You wanted to slap him again, but then you thought he might just keel over and die just to prove a point. You dropped back down on the ground. “Fine. Stay if you want. So will I.”
He choked out a laugh. “Am I…so irresistible?”
“You are annoying, that’s what.”
“Come here…”
You let him wrap you in his arms, careful to lean against him where you were sure he wouldn’t hurt. Snow was falling, the shadows of the forest shrinking as you sat with Satoru in silence. You sensed the uneven beat of his pulse slowing.
“What is it like?” you asked. “The sun?”
“Nothing… compared to you.”
“You have to say that. We are bonded.”
“We don’t have to be… for me to think you’re… beautiful…”
You brushed away the hair on his face, and your fingers continued tracing down his jaw, over his lips, as if memorising very line and curve of the man you were supposed to kill. The human who was supposed to be your prey. The slayer you were supposed to despise. The mortal you were never supposed to give up eternity for.
“Well, Satoru Gojo,” you whispered. “You’ve done it. You’ve vanquished me.”
His breaths were slow, the lids of his eyes heavy. But he smiled. “How cruel of me.”
A pale, golden glow broke through the trees. You stared at it, entranced, watching the snow covering the forest floor shimmer. Watched the skeletal branches of the barren trees lighten, the texture on the barks growing defined.
You watched the sunlight, and it was everything you’d imagined it to be.
You skin started to prickle.
Then it was searing.
You crumpled inwards. Your whimpers turned into cries into screams. It was like being tossed into a flaming hearth. Like having the constant lick of fire against your skin, eating you to the bone.
The pain… it was excruciating.
You didn’t notice Satoru shifting until he was on top of you. Until the burning ebbed slightly and you found his body curled over your own. In that moment, you realised why he hadn’t wanted to move. With his own broad frame, and the shadows casted by the closely packed trees, he’d created a shield for you.
But light was ever fluid, and it leaked into the crevices of your shelter. Biting. Gnawing. Like the scraping of a candle flame against the bare spots of your skin.
“Be still,” Satoru breathed. “Or it will… be worse.”
“It hurts…”
“You’ll be alright… you have… me…” He pulled you in tighter underneath him. “Talk to me… tell me something…”
He was trying to distract you, but you couldn’t think past the burning.
“I’ll go first,” he said. “The night we met… I think I was already in love with you, but I… I couldn’t admit it… After Suguru’s death, I went mad… Megumi… he warned me against it, but I… wouldn’t listen… I sneaked into Sukuna’s castle… and saw you…”
It was too painful to speak, so you just whimpered.
Satoru continued, “You were in the garden… in a red dress surrounded by red roses… and I think… I made up that plan partly to… give myself an excuse to see you again… to keep coming back…”
He told you about the first time he saw you fly. That he’d almost ran out of his hiding place when he saw you throw yourself out a window, and then almost given himself away a second time when he heard you laughing as you swooped up into the sky. So beautiful. So free.
He also told you about the first time he saw you feed, and how he realised he could never have you. That he had planted roses in his own garden to remind himself you had thorns. That you were his enemy. That he tried to hate you, everyday, but always ended up failing spectacularly.
The sunlight was blinding now, seeping through your lids and frying your eyeballs. Your muscles were screaming, your bones were melting, your body a shaking ball of flame beneath him.
Every time you thought this was it, Satoru would tell you to hold on. Every time you were about to give in and start flailing, Satoru would tell you it was almost over. Just a little while more, he’d say. The sun was coming down, he’d promised.
Somewhere in between, the agony and the solid weight of his body had melded together, and you could no longer tell one from the other. Time was an unending void, and the lure of death was tasting much, much sweeter.
But then the light began to wane. The scorching brightness behind your eyes dimmed. The flames scorching you alive eased to sweltering to prickling to a cool, winter’s breeze that had you doubting if you were still of this world.
Your eyes squinted open, and the dark veil of night greeted you once again.
“S-Satoru?” you croaked out.
He didn’t answer. You didn’t remember when he’d stopped speaking, and you were suddenly conscious of his full weight pressing down on you.
Struggling, you slowly lifted him off you. His body fell limp on the snow, and your hands were on him.
“Satoru,” you shook him. “Satoru, wake up. It’s night.”
Silence.
“Wake up.”
You shook him harder.
“Wake up!”
Nothing.
You stared at him, and there would never be anything more profound than that of your heart shattering.
“I thought you were beautiful, too,” you whispered, stroking his face. Skin was peeling off your hands like scrolls of burnt parchment, brittle and grey, but you were numb to everything but him.
You leaned down, and spoke against his still lips.
“Whatever I have been searching for in the skies, I now know it is you.” You kissed him. “Please, come back to me.”
You felt it then. The whisper of a pulse. Barely there. A thread away from snapping.
He was still alive.
You didn’t hesitate. Your fingers morphed into claws, tearing into your skin.
Red, dark and fresh, streamed down your palm. You held up his head, parted his lips, and let your blood flow into his mouth, down his throat.
And you waited. For his pulse to stop and the thread of his mortal life to snap, and when it did, the change was immediate.
His fair skin, once the dull, matted tint of a human’s, took on the pale, ethereal sheen of moonlight. His stark white hair was glossier, thicker, the lines of his handsome face sharpening to an incredible definition, and there behind his parting lips—thin and pointed and drenched with your blood—were the beginnings of fangs.
A cough. A splutter.
Blue eyes fluttered awake, peering up at you. And they were now a blue so impossible, it drowned you.
“So it is done.”
The voice who spoke did not belong to Satoru, but to the immortal who had appeared, as silent as death itself.
The night seemed to bend around your father as he stepped towards you.
“The Sun Trial has ended, and so has this ridiculous feud,” Sukuna said, crimson eyes settling on you and Satoru. “You have made your choice, daughter. And now, he will make his.”
Satoru sat up, still dazed. He stared at you, then at Sukuna, then at himself—at the subtle glow of his skin, the new movement his hands made as he turned them in front of his face, at the wound on his stomach, no longer bleeding. His gaze found yours again.
“You—you turned me into—“
“She did you a favour, slayer,” Sukuna said. “You would have died either way—I made sure of it. And you are not a vampire yet until you have fed.”
“I did not ask for this.”
“Then go ahead and die for all I care. Do you really think it is so simple to become one of us? If it was the case, there would be many more of us and less of you.”
Sukuna tossed a vial of red liquid onto the snow.
“A vampire can only turn a human once in their entire existence, and my daughter has, for better or worse, chosen you. I cannot fathom why—she’s always had bad taste in men—but in doing so, you now have a luxury even kings cannot claim.” He gestured at the vial. “So choose. Do you treasure your mortality so much you would die for it, or do you treasure my daughter more than life?”
But your father’s words swam in your head.
“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” you said, fixing him with a look that dared him to deny it. “You waited to execute Satoru so I would find a way to save him. You rearranged the books in the library knowing I would come across the Sun Trial and invoke it. You stabbed him with that sword knowing I would choose to turn him.”
Sukuna merely regarded you, calmly, and said, “If you believe I would go to such lengths for you, my daughter, then I will take it as a compliment.” But you saw the tell-tale sign in his jaw. The feather of a twitch.
There was no point in wringing it out of your father, so instead, you took Satoru’s hands in yours.
“Despise me if you must,” you said. “Whatever you choose, I will accept it—I will accept it if you take the blood and leave me. I will accept it if you don’t and leave me. But what I cannot accept is not telling you that I love you. I will never stop. You are the shape of my soul, until I am beyond dust. Until time unending.”
Snow fell in the space between you and him. Satoru looked at you, quietly. Completely. For a long while, he didn’t speak.
Then he sighed. “Megumi’s going to throw a fit.”
Satoru pulled you against him, and like the force that drew you hopelessly together, your mouths found one another, and it was a kiss to end all that was before, and all that would come after. There was only him and you, and two halves of a desperate wish finally becoming whole.
“My princess,” he murmured against your lips. “You are the cruelest of them all—making me love you for eternity.”
“Do you not want to?”
“I cannot help it.”
You smiled, and kissed him again.
Sukuna cleared his throat. “If you are done slobbering all over my daughter, slayer, then get it over with. I have other pressing matters than standing here and regretting I didn’t separate your head from your body.”
Satoru simply stuck out his hand.
“Then toss the vial over here, old man. As you can see, the princess is clearly incapable of letting me go just yet.”
It was a time of peace, at least for the humans. The legend of the supposedly incompetent yet deadly Six Eyes had become exactly that—a legend.
New Transylvania had a vampire prince. A prince who only drank donated blood, and only from his jewel-encrusted goblet. A prince who carried a silver sword around, impaling any immortal who dared step foot across the village borders. A prince whom the vampire king received complaints about to no end. A prince who, everyone and the king himself knew, they would be stuck with for the rest of time, because their beloved (unless one wanted to be staked) princess loved him with all her heart.
And it was glaringly obvious the prince loved her in return, because he made sure to remind everyone of it—the court, the servants, the guards, and any unlucky creature who had the misfortune of hearing them. Every. Single. Night.
“That’s it, princess. God, you’re so fucking tight I’m going crazy,” he groaned as he pounded you against the library stacks. “Go on, let them know who your perfect pussy belongs to.”
“Ahn! Yes! Satoru—fuck—fuck me harder!”
“Who’s cock do you love? Say it.”
“I love Satoru Gojo’s cock!”
It would continue like this for hours, sometimes until dawn, rendering whatever room or hallway the both of you were fucking in completely inaccessible. And if it was out in the gardens, then the castle occupants had the option to stay indoors, or stay outside and have Sukuna pluck out their eyes later.
Eventually, when even the king’s own ears were staring to bleed, he was forced to hold an intervention with you and Satoru, to establish certain boundaries. Those boundaries being sending the both of you away to torture Megumi instead at Satoru’s estate every fortnight.
“After you, my love.” Satoru was grinning as he held out a hand.
You took it, and let him help you up the tower’s ledge. Felt his arms winding around your waist, pressing your back against him.
His lips brushed the shell of your ear. “Shall I catch you?”
“You’re not fast enough.”
“Really? Then I suppose you’ve conveniently forgotten about all the other times I was.”
“Not tonight.” You smiled as you pushed him away, and leapt off the ledge.
You heard his laughter follow behind.
Wings spread, you soared up high, and chanced a look back.
Only to find him swerving around and in front of you with swift, leathery wings. But unlike your own—the colour of smoke and shadows—his were silvery white, pale as the moon that watched him pull you against him in the air.
He kissed you, deep and slow, like he had all the time in the world. Like the infinite times he did before and the infinite times he would after.
“It’s not so bad,” he whispered.
“What is?”
A million stars gleamed in his impossible blue eyes. Satoru smiled.
“Forever.”
thank you for reading to the end ilyyy! i originally intended for this fic to be short, but then i caught worldbuilding disease and now it's a whole soulmate arc >.< what do you think? i'd love to know your thoughts ♡
⭑.ᐟ please check out my MASTERLIST for my other works <3
*** likes and reblogs make my day, but please do not repost this fic or use it with any form of AI. thank you <3
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Politics in Australia is actually unbearable. We have like three years until the next election and the media (which is bought by the gas/mining billionaires who back the far right) is going on about how our far right party that has all of like one seat is going to somehow pull of a win like the Nazi party did in 1932 (they aren’t using that comparison but I find it accurate). Keep in mind, last election they said that our regular conservative party was going to win by a landslide, and they lost catastrophically. Like to the point the party itself barely exists now. I live in rural Australia (one of the most far right areas in the country) where people wear Maga hats, and my dads friend is going to run as a member of that far right party in the next electorate over, and he wants my dad to run for that party in our electorate… my mum is thankfully making preparations to divorce him but my god.
The scary thing is that Australia is so anti-education and anti-university, and anti anything that isn’t a physical trade, that I do believe there is a terrifyingly good chance of what happened in America happening here. So, bella ciao because I’m going to be working in Europe next year. We’re waiting on a free trade agreement with the EU to be finalised, and it’s being reported that four year working visas for Australians to work and travel freely in Europe will be part of that. If not I still plan to teach English in Italy, which definitely has its own problems, but if I have to hear the name Pauline Hanson one more time…
I almost never get invested in celebrity couples, but I can’t help but adore Damiano and Dove, and Avan and Halsey, and the fact that Dove and Avan are starring in a show together and joking about having their fiancé’s sing at each others weddings. It’s all just so sweet.
Eddie Munson x Henderson! female reader, Steve Harrington x reader
Summary
Eddie left Hawkins, Indiana behind to chase after his dreams - forcing him to say goodbye to his first love and all their friends. But unbeknownst to Eddie, she kept a huge secret from him.
Now, 2 years later, Corroded Coffin is coming back to Hawkins for the first time.
Warnings
Rockstar!Eddie, dad!Eddie, ex!reader, mom!reader, best friend!Steve. Language, smut, pregnancy, secret baby, love triangle, alcohol use, drug use, angst, check chapter warnings for specifics!
A/N
Reader is Dustin’s sister, so I imagine her with brown curly hair. I’ve left most things to your imagination :)
Realizing that Fiyero is probably really into being pussydrunk
Fiyero doesn't care that others think he's a playboy, a heartbreaker, or some would even call him a manwhore, he doesn't care about being called any of those things. Not as long as your dripping pussy is in front of his face. He can already feel himself drooling just from the sight of it.
The moment his tongue touches you he can't seem to get enough of you, of your taste. He doesn't care how much you tug or pull his hair, dig your heels into his upper back, scream his name for anyone passing through the hallway to hear, clench your thighs around his head. All he can think about is plunging his tongue into your pussy and getting more of you.
"There you go baby, grind on me face." He mouths at you, placing sloppy, dirty kisses against your cunt, your clit. His hands slip around your thighs so he has something soft to hold, to ground himself against.
Because he can hardly think anymore, hardly form words, his mouth and tongue too busy to say anything.
In fact he hardly even notices that you came, once, twice already. "One more?" He asks, eyes pleading, his mouth and chin covered in your slick juices.
prompt: he thought neytiri was the prettiest woman he’s ever seen until you stumbled upon his eyes and prove him wrong. | word count: 7.7k
• massaging his son’s mate (date posted: 12/17/25)
prompt: it was just supposed to be a way of helping you ease the strain in your muscles but as your loincloth rides askew and the blue cheeks of your pussy reveals itself in front of your mate’s father, it seems like jake sully can’t deny a young beauty after all. | word count: 1.8k
• “well i dont want (y/n)” (date posted: 01/04/26)
prompt: you’ve overheard neytiri telling jake he needs to have a mate soon and she mentions how you were the best singer in the clan, only for your heart to break when you hear him say “well i don’t want (y/n).” | word count: 4.1k
• pretty little prey (date posted: 01/10/26)
prompt: cladded in his old vest and rifle as he walks the forest, jake is on the hunt for varang’s innocent younger sister, the pretty little thing who caught his eye. | word count: 6k
• sucking purple flowers to your skin (date posted: 01/18/26)
prompt: jake doesn’t even know what you, the metkayina princess, see in him. it almost made you frustrated that he doesn’t see the handful of metkayina women eyeing him whenever he’s walking with you. you think now is the time to hit two birds with one stone. | word count: 5.2k
series:
• i’m your dream girl but you’re not my type
prompt: there is only one clan that could turn the tides of the war, the zä'raiya clan. whoever they favor, eywa will bless. it just so happens that aid will not be the only thing that these men will beg for but for a woman who’s form of entertainment is stringing along men, mated or not.
neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan:
credits to the gif owner
oneshots:
• the dare (date posted: 12/16/25)
prompt: you knew tsireya has a huge crush on neteyam but you do not give a fuck, you liked him first. you will make him eat at the palm of your hands and have tsireya be on the front row seat to watch it happen. why not start on it with a simple game of truth or dare? | word count: 2.4k
• you don’t know i’m courting you? (date posted: 12/22/25)
prompt: all along he thought you knew he was courting you but when you start avoiding him when you see him with another girl, he thinks you want him to stop courting you not knowing you weren’t really aware he was trying to mate with you. | word count: 5.9k
• she is what i demand (date posted: 12/23/25)
prompt: neteyam is sick of having to meet you in the dark. he is the feared olo’eyktan, what he wants, he’ll fucking get. | word count: 4.1k
• is it still duty or not? (date posted: 01/01/26)
prompt: you knew neteyam loves you but when he comes back with a captured mangkwan woman, it seems as if you’re not sure anymore if it’s still only just duties between her and him and you can only take so much hurt before you give up. | word count: 7.5k
series:
• i’m your dream girl but you’re not my type
prompt: there is only one clan that could turn the tides of the war, the zä'raiya clan. whoever they favor, eywa will bless. it just so happens that aid will not be the only thing that these men will beg for but for a woman who’s form of entertainment is stringing along men, mated or not.
lo’ak te suli tsyeyk'itan:
credits to the photo owner
oneshots:
• accidental tsaheylu (date posted: 12/16/25)
prompt: on his way to show tsireya another courting gift he has found, lo’ak bumped into a pretty stranger and accidentally connected their queue into a tsaheylu. | word count: 4.5k
• courting the wrong sister (date posted: 12/16/25)
prompt: once the eldest daughter of tonowari and ronal comes back after being away, lo’ak thinks he’s courting the wrong sister after seeing your face. | word count: 4.8k
• space in your heart (date posted: 12/18/25)
prompt: you were supposed to be mated with neteyam but after his death, the life you were supposed to have together was stolen from you. as the next tsahik, duty still calls and you have to find a mate eventually even if your heart cries for your lover. buried with grief and guilt, lo’ak presents himself to court you and be your mate. eventually lines are blurred. | word count: 9.1k
• enemies daughter (date posted: 12/20/25)
prompt: lo'ak was only meant to survey the people of the ash clan from afar but then he saw you, one mangkwan that seems different from the rest of your clan, physically and personality wise. he observes you for a while not noticing he’s becoming entranced with you as he does. he made sure to befriend you and make you see that they are not the enemy. soon, both of you are caught at the crossfire of ashes, love, and war. | word count: 8.5k
series:
• i’m your dream girl but you’re not my type
prompt: there is only one clan that could turn the tides of the war, the zä'raiya clan. whoever they favor, eywa will bless. it just so happens that aid will not be the only thing that these men will beg for but for a woman who’s form of entertainment is stringing along men, mated or not.
miles quaritch:
credits to the gif owner
oneshots:
tbp
series:
• mean bitch (date posted: 12/19/25)
part ii | part iii
prompt: just as varang takes a hold of quaritch’s kuru to force tsaheylu, you snatch it out of her grasp hissing at her. this strange sky demon’s loyalty and fire belongs to you and you alone, not even your tsmuke can change that. all for your amusement, of course. | word count: 6.3k
• i’m your dream girl but you’re not my type
prompt: there is only one clan that could turn the tides of the war, the zä'raiya clan. whoever they favor, eywa will bless. it just so happens that aid will not be the only thing that these men will beg for but for a woman who’s form of entertainment is stringing along men, mated or not.
ao’nung te tsika'u tonowari'itan:
oneshots:
tbp
series:
• i’m your dream girl but you’re not my type
prompt: there is only one clan that could turn the tides of the war, the zä'raiya clan. whoever they favor, eywa will bless. it just so happens that aid will not be the only thing that these men will beg for but for a woman who’s form of entertainment is stringing along men, mated or not.
i’m your dream girl but you’re not my type | part six
pairings: various avatar men x female na'vi reader (jake sully, miles quaritch, neteyam, lo’ak, and ao'nung)
series notes: neteyam is aged up to 23, lo'ak & ao'nung are aged up to 22, reader is aged up to 25, reader is morally grey and a coy bitch, infidelity from jake and lo'ak, suggestive themes and smut, varang and miles & lo'ak and tsireya exists here intimately. made up clans and practices for the sake of this series, misogyny, men being men, big age gap for jake and reader & miles and reader, change in canon events and facts.
word count: 15.7k
chapter notes: so much drama, the plot is plotting now, reader serving miles the cold hard truth, jake groveling, neteyam an angsty yearner, lo’ak succumbing, ao’nung being the perfect tatted future olo’eyktan, miles in awe, jealousy everywhere, reader is literally a bitch and a minx we don’t even know what she truly wants fr. smut, humping, fingering, messy make outs.
prompt: there is only one clan that could turn the tides of the war, the zä'raiya clan. whoever they favor, eywa will bless. it just so happens that aid will not be the only thing that these men will beg for but for a woman who’s form of entertainment is stringing along men, mated or not.
masterlist
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six
credits to the gif owner
The forest around you thickened into a labyrinth of towering ferns and twisted vines, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and blooming nightshade. Sunlight filtered in fractured beams, illuminating the stranger's form as he stood there, unyielding, his yellow eyes locked on yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.
Kalixte shifted restlessly behind you, her massive wings twitching, but you held a hand up to calm her, your focus unwavering on the Na'vi before you.
"What clan?" You pressed, your voice sharp and lilac eyes narrowing as you stepped forward, the muscles in your legs coiling with readiness.
He mulled it over, his broad shoulders rolling slightly under the tawtute vest that strained against his chest, the fabric worn and patched from rough use. A grin tugged at his lips again, slow and calculating, revealing a flash of teeth that looked too perfect, too human-crafted.
"I'm not in a clan." He said finally, the words laced with a casual defiance, his tail flicking lazily behind him like he owned the ground he stood on.
You tilted your head, studying him more closely now, your gaze tracing the sharp lines of his face, the high ridge of his brow, the faint scars etching his jaw like battle trophies from a war not your own. He didn't move but there was a tension in his posture, a coiled readiness that mirrored your own. His skin, that deep azure, gleamed with a subtle sheen of sweat.
"What about you?" He countered, his voice dropping to a smoother timbre, curiosity sharpening his features as he leaned in just a fraction. "From what clan are you? You don't look like everybody else."
His eyes roamed over you then, bold and appraising, taking in the glow of your grey skin, the way your frame balanced power and grace, your curves accentuated by the fitted leathers that hugged your hips and thighs.
"Zä'raiya." You replied evenly, your chin lifting with pride, the name rolling off your tongue like thunder echoing in the mountains.
His eyes widened just for a heartbeat, the golden irises flaring with recognition.
Zä'raiya.
The word hit him. The clan Lyle had ranted about him endlessly during briefings, the clan Varang spat venom over in their heated arguments, the ones she despised with a burning hatred rooted in old grudges and lost territories. The powerful ones with their beasts and unbreakable bonds to Eywa. The very clan he needed to sway, to turn into an ally against Jake Sully and his ragtag family. And here you were, not just any warrior, but a pretty young thing, fierce and captivating, your presence stirring something opportunistic in his gut.
If he could leverage this...
The thought shattered as hollers erupted from the underbrush, guttural cries slicing through the air like warning shrieks from hexapedes. Before you could react fully, a spear whistled past, embedding itself in the soil inches from your feet with a thud that sprayed dirt across your boots.
You hissed, a low, feral sound rumbling from your throat, your body snapping into motion.
In one fluid arc, you snatched your bow from its sling across your back, nocking an arrow with practiced speed, the fletching brushing your cheek as you drew back the string. Your arms flexed, sinews taut under the golden swirls of your markings, and you loosed the shot toward the source, a cluster of shadows bursting from the trees.
The arrow found its mark with a sickening thunk, piercing the throat of the lead attacker, a Mangkwan warrior. He crumpled, gurgling, as his comrades surged forward, spears raised and eyes wild with aggression.
Miles watched it unfold, his jaw clenching as he recognized the attackers. The Mangkwans who'd trailed him on this scouting run to ensure Varang’s beloved sky man's safety.
"Stand down!" He barked, stepping forward with authority, his voice booming through the trees.
But they didn't listen with their thirst for blood, more poured from the foliage, a dozen at least, their war cries echoing as they charged, blades glinting.
You were merciless, a whirlwind of lethal precision.
Ducking low, you rolled to the side as another spear grazed the air where your head had been, your white hair whipping like a banner in the motion. Coming up firing, you released arrow after arrow, each one singing from the bowstring with deadly accuracy. One struck a warrior in the chest, his body jerking backward mid-leap, blood blooming dark against his teal skin. Another took a knee to the temple from your swift kick, your thigh muscle bunching powerfully before you drove your knife into his side, twisting with a grunt of effort.
The air filled with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid smoke of trampled undergrowth, bodies piling at your feet in twisted heaps. More came, undeterred, their numbers swelling like a swarm of viperwolves.
Miles let out a heavy sigh, frustration etching lines across his forehead as he raised his rifle. He fired a burst into the sky, the crack of thunderous shots splitting the canopy, birds exploding from the branches in panicked flight. The Mangkwans faltered, heads snapping upward at the unnatural boom of thunder, their advance breaking in confusion.
You seized the distraction, your breaths coming steady and controlled, sweat beading along your collarbone and trickling down the valley between your breasts.
With a predatory snarl, you nocked two arrows at once, firing them in rapid succession. One embedding in an eye socket, the other shattering a collarbone. You lunged forward, knife flashing as you slit a throat, warm blood spraying across your arm, then spun to bury the blade in another's gut, feeling the give of flesh and the final twitch of life. The last one fell to a well-aimed arrow through the heart, his spear clattering harmlessly to the ground.
Silence descended, broken only by the rustle of leaves and your ragged exhale. Bodies littered the clearing, Mangkwan warriors sprawled in unnatural poses, their eyes staring blankly at the sky.
Miles lowered his weapon slowly, a low whistle escaping his lips, genuine admiration flickering in his gaze as he took in the carnage and you, standing amid it all, chest heaving, your skin streaked with dirt and blood but your stance unbroken, a vision of savage beauty.
You whirled on him then, bow raised once more, arrow trained dead center on his chest, the tip quivering slightly with your controlled fury.
"You are Mangkwan?" You demanded, voice laced with venom, your tail lashing behind you like a whip.
He met your stare without flinching, that grin returning though tempered with respect.
"I'm not, sweetheart." He drawled, the endearment rolling off his tongue with a mocking lilt. "I do work with them though."
Your eyes dropped to his hands then, the extra finger glaringly obvious as he gestured placatingly. The same anomaly Jake had, a mark of the sky people's twisted recreations.
Realization dawned, cold and sharp.
"Sky demon." You hissed, the words dripping with disgust, your grip tightening on the bow until your knuckles paled against your grey skin.
Sa'meyra's visions had whispered of them. The RDA, the destroyers Jake had fled from, the ones who'd scarred the land in nights shared under the stars, his body pressed to yours as he confessed the horrors.
"Easy there, sweetheart." He said, voice soothing but edged with caution, holding his ground as you advanced a step, the arrow unwavering. "I'm not here to hurt you."
"You can't even if you tried." You shot back, your lips curling in an assured smile, confidence radiating from your poised form, the curve of your hips shifting as you planted your feet wider for balance.
He smirked at that, a spark of intrigue lighting his features.
A feisty woman, the kind that could unsettle even his iron resolve.
Appreciating the fire in your eyes, the way your full lips parted with each breath, he lowered his gun deliberately, slinging it over his shoulder before raising both hands in surrender, palms open and empty. "Fair enough."
"Why do you do this?" You pressed, the arrow still leveled, your voice cracking with raw anger as you gestured vaguely at the devastation around you, the felled trees in the distance, the ghosts of homes burned. "Ruin our home and kill our people?"
He hesitated, his raised hands steady but his expression tentative, the weight of your question pressing on him like an unseen force.
"I'm just doing it for my people." He answered finally, voice quieter, almost defensive, his broad chest rising with a deep inhale. "For humanity."
You looked at him, really looked, and a laugh bubbled up from your chest, sharp and incredulous, echoing through the bloodied clearing. It started low then built, your shoulders shaking as you lowered the bow just a fraction, amusement warring with disdain in your lilac gaze.
"For humanity when you're... blue?" You mocked, stepping closer, your bare feet silent on the blood-soaked earth. "Do the tawtute even see you as one of them anymore?"
His brows furrowed, a flicker of doubt shadowing his angular face, the muscles in his jaw ticking as your words burrowed in.
You pressed on, memories of Jake's late-night confessions flooding back on how the human Quaritch was dead and gone, this blue shell just a recombinant echo, a puppet of memories in Na'vi flesh.
"If you win, what do you think would happen to you after?" You continued, voice steady and piercing, circling him slowly now, your tail brushing the air like a judge's gavel. "Do you think the people on your world will accept you? Treat you like you're like them? Your people will dispose of you once your purpose is served and yet you continue to fight for them. How noble of you."
The laugh came again, colder this time, your eyes gleaming with pitying scorn as you stopped before him, close enough to see the faint stubble on his chin, the way his ears twitched at your words. His teeth gritted, audible in the tense quiet, your barbs messing with his mind, planting seeds of fracture in the loyalty he'd clung to like a lifeline.
You lowered your arrow fully then, the tension easing from your arms as you grinned, menacing and predatory, your teeth bared in a way that made your beauty turn lethal, shadows playing across the high planes of your cheeks.
"Yet how pathetic." You murmured, voice dripping with contempt. "Eywa has given you a chance to live your own life here and yet you continue to be foolish and cling to humanity."
Your glance swept the dead Mangkwans, their bodies cooling in the dappled light, limbs akimbo and faces frozen in shock.
A smirk twisted your lips, cold fire in your eyes as you met his gaze again. "The tsahik you're allied with will be very mad you got her warriors killed."
Varang, the venomous one who'd begged on her knees for you to reclaim their shattered home tree, then lashed out with a blade at Sa'meyra's refusal, slicing flesh in a fit of rage.
The memory fueled your disdain.
He recovered quickly, that smirk returning to his face, cocky and undeterred, his hands lowering as he shrugged one shoulder.
"Maybe." He conceded, voice regaining its drawl, laced with dark humor. "I know how to pacify her though."
The innuendo hung heavy, his eyes dropping briefly to your form before flicking back up, implying the crude tools of his trade. His cock, thrusting into willing shadows, and his guns, thundering promises of power.
You caught it instantly, the crude undercurrent, and a chuckle escaped you. You were amused, your head tilting back slightly as mirth danced in your eyes.
"So you're fucking a Na'vi cunt and still fight for humans?" You retorted, the words bold and unfiltered, your posture relaxing into something almost playful, though the edge remained. "The Mangkwan tsahik's not that good in bed then."
You laughed outright now, the sound rich and unburdened, your chest rising with it, drawing his gaze to the sway of your breasts beneath the thin fabric.
He was amused, a genuine chuckle rumbling from his throat, his head shaking slightly as he watched you.
You were different, the way your mind cut straight to the bone, unapologetic and sharp. Varang's grip was tight, her body a fierce vice that clawed and demanded but it wasn't enough to sway him.
His loyalty to humanity burned deeper, a fire no Na'vi heat could quench. Still, your words lingered, amusing and unsettling in equal measure. Miles stood there, his golden eyes narrowed against the sting of your words but you weren't done. Not yet. The bow in your grip felt like an extension of your will, the string humming faintly from the last shot.
You stepped closer, your bare feet leaving faint imprints in the bloodied soil, the lithe muscles of your calves flexing with each deliberate stride. Your white hair, streaked with flecks of dirt, swayed against your back, and the golden markings along your collarbone seemed to sharpen in the tension.
"Return to your failure of a woman and think over my words, sky demon." You said, your voice a silken blade, low and laced with disdain that curled your full lips into a cold smirk.
The words hung in the air, heavy with the implication of Varang's fractured ambitions, her body a tool he'd wielded but never truly commanded.
Your grey skin glowed faintly then as if Eywa herself lent a shimmer to your form, highlighting the elegant curve of your neck and the subtle swell of your breasts beneath the blood-spattered harness that made Quaritch pause.
"You're only breathing right now because I let you." You continued, the mercy in your tone twisted with mockery, your lilac eyes locking onto his with unyielding intensity. "That is a mercy from me."
Without breaking eye contact, you raised your bow once more, the wood creaking softly under the draw of the string. The arrow nocked smoothly, its tip glinting as you aimed. Not for his head or heart but for the meaty part of his upper arm, a warning shot that would embed deep enough to burn but shallow enough to pull free. You released, the shaft whistling through the air before burying itself in his flesh with a wet thud. Blood welled instantly, dark rivulets tracing down his bicep staining the tawtute fabric he wore.
He grunted, a sharp sound of pain and shock exploding from his chest, his body jerking back as his free hand clamped over the wound. His face contorted, brows knitting together, the veins in his neck standing out like cords under his azure skin.
"Son of a—" He started but the words dissolved into a hiss, his golden eyes flashing with a mix of fury and reluctant awe.
You didn't wait for more.
With a fluid motion, you turned toward Kalixte, her massive form shifting eagerly, wings unfurling like sails in the breeze. Mounting her in one graceful vault, your thighs gripping her sides firmly, you settled into the saddle, the familiar hum of her energy vibrating through your core. Looking back over your shoulder, you flashed him a predatory smile, teeth bared, eyes slitted with promise, the curve of your mouth both beautiful and terrifying.
"When I see you again in battle, the arrow will be in your heart and not in your arm." You warned, the words carrying on the wind like a vow etched in stone as your gaze trailed over his handsome bloodied form in a one last glance.
Your storm glider launched skyward with a powerful beat of her wings, the rush of air whipping your hair into a wild halo as you ascended.
Below, Miles watched you go, his uninjured hand still pressed to the throbbing wound, blood seeping between his fingers. A low chuckle bubbled up from his throat, ragged through the pain, shaking his broad frame.
"A fucking crazy woman." He muttered to the empty clearing, the admiration in his voice undercut by the grit of his teeth, his mind already turning over the encounter like a puzzle he couldn't quite solve.
Your words echoed in his mind, unwelcome seeds of doubt taking root amid the loyalty he'd forged in fire and blood.
The flight to the cliff was a blur of green and blue, the wind scouring the blood from your skin in salty gusts, though crusts lingered on your arms and face. Your storm glider banked smoothly, her form slicing through thermals with effortless power, and soon the jagged outcrop came into view.
Neteyam was already there, perched on a boulder with his ikran tethered nearby, his tall frame silhouetted against the horizon. His braids draped over his shoulders, catching the fading light and even from afar you could see the tension in his posture, his golden eyes scanning the skies with worry etching lines around them.
You guided Kalixte down gently, her talons scraping the rock as she landed with a soft thud. Dismounting, you swung your leg over, landing lightly on the uneven stone, your body still thrumming with adrenaline. The blood on your cheek had dried in flaky patterns and a few arrows were missing from your quiver.
Neteyam rose immediately, closing the distance in long strides, his muscles rippling under his skin as he reached for you, concern deepening the furrow between his brows.
"Why is there blood on you?" He asked, voice tight with urgency, his hand hovering near your arm as if afraid to touch. "Are you hurt?"
A teasing smile tugged at your lips, softening the hardened edges from the fight, your lilac eyes sparkling with mischief as you tilted your head, white strands falling across one shoulder to brush the curve of your neck.
"Worried for me, golden boy?" You murmured, the endearment light and flirtatious, your tail swaying lazily behind you.
He groaned, a low sound of exasperation rumbling from his throat, his hand finally settling on your shoulder, fingers warm and steady.
"I'm serious." He insisted, his voice dropping an octave, eyes searching yours with that intense focus that made your pulse quicken. "Are you hurt?"
"No." You assured him, your smile widening as you held his gaze. "It's not mine."
Relief washed over his features, softening the worry lines, and he reached up, his thumb gently wiping at the crusted blood on your cheek. The touch was soft, almost reverent, his callused pad caressing the skin there in slow circles, sending a warm tingle down your spine.
"Good." He breathed, the single word heavy with unspoken care, his golden eyes holding yours a beat longer than necessary.
You leaned into it, nuzzling your cheek against his palm, the gesture intimate and trusting, your lashes brushing his skin as you closed your eyes briefly. The scent of him filled your senses, grounding you after the chaos. Pulling back slightly, you turned the attention on him, your hands moving to his arms, tracing the firm lines of his forearms with light fingers, checking for wounds.
"How about you?" You asked as your fingers skimmed the firm ridges of his abdomen, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat. Your touch lingering on the warmth of his skin. "You alright?"
He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips, though his eyes remained vigilant.
"I'm fine." He said then paused, glancing at the blood again. "Whose is it, then?"
"Mangkwans." You replied simply, stepping back but keeping your hand on his arm, the word dropping like a stone into still water.
His body tensed instantly, alertness sharpening his posture and shoulders squaring, tail stiffening as he scanned the horizon.
"Mangkwans?" He echoed, voice edged with alarm, already turning as if to mount his ikran. "We need to go check—"
You held him back, your grip firm on his bicep, fingers digging in just enough to anchor him.
"I took care of it." You said firmly, your lilac eyes meeting his with unshakeable certainty. "They won't be a problem anymore."
He hesitated, reluctance flickering across his face, his jaw working as he weighed your words against his instincts but the trust in your gaze won out. He exhaled slowly, nodding as he stayed put, his hand covering yours in a brief squeeze.
"Alright." He conceded though the worry didn't fully leave his eyes. "If you say so."
You grinned following Neteyam as you both headed to your bonds, your thoughts fleeting to the handsome Na'vi you shot with your arrow earlier.
See, another mercy I grant you, Miles Quaritch.
Together, you mounted them. Your storm glider's wings unfurling with a whoosh, his ikran screeching a challenge to the wind and took to the skies, soaring back toward Awa'atlu. The flight back to the clan was side by side, your storm glider gliding effortlessly beside his ikran, the two beasts cutting through the air in harmonious rhythm. The reef village sprawled below as you descended, its maruis connected by swaying bridges, the central gathering area alive with the murmur of voices.
Tonowari and Ronal stood at the forefront, their imposing forms flanked by Jake and Neytiri, all deep in conversation with your Zä'raiya warriors who were recounting their own patrols with animated gestures. The air hummed with the scent of salt and woven fibers, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows over the group.
You and Neteyam touched down nearby, the thud of your mounts drawing immediate attention. Neytiri moved first, her frame gliding toward Neteyam, eyes wide with concern as she cupped his face.
"Neteyam, are you alright?" She asked, voice soft but insistent, her fingers tracing his jawline.
He nodded leaning into her touch briefly, his expression reassuring.
"I'm fine." He said gently as he shot a quick glance towards your busy form, the words carrying a warmth that eased the lines around her eyes. "Nothing out of the ordinary on my end."
The group's focus shifted to you then who was just turning around to look at them, eyes widening at your disheveled state with telltale signs of battle. The quiver lighter by several arrows, crusted blood flaking from your arms and torso, your grey skin marked with the faint bruises of exertion but your eyes were in glee.
"What happened?" Tonowari demanded immediately, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder, stepping forward with arms crossed over his massive chest, the tattoos on his biceps flexing with the motion.
"Mangkwans." You answered succinctly, meeting his stare without flinching, your posture straight and unyielding despite the fatigue creeping into your limbs.
Ronal gasped, a sharp intake that silenced the murmurs, her hand flying to her mouth as her eyes widened, the intricate braids framing her face swaying with the sudden turn of her head. Alertness rippled through the group with Jake's posture stiffening, Neytiri's tail lashing once, your warriors exchanging grim nods.
"Don't worry." You continued, raising a hand to placate them, a small smile softening your features as you met their stares. "I took care of them. They were lurking in the forest near Awa'atlu. Ambushed me during my scouting into the forest grounds. Forced into combat but it's done."
They knew it meant you killed everyone single-handedly and your warriors bristled in pride for their superior.
"Are you hurt?" Ronal pressed stepping closer, her healer's eyes scanning you from head to toe, noting the way your harness clung to your sweat-dampened curves.
You shook your head, a small smile breaking through, softening the fierce edge of your features.
"No." You said lightly, brushing a hand over your arm where the blood had dried as you repeated the words you said to Neteyam earlier. "The blood is not mine."
More impressed murmurs rose from your warriors, nods of approval rippling through them while Tonowari's expression shifted to one of reluctant admiration, his broad shoulders relaxing fractionally.
Jake, though, was a storm contained.
His yellow eyes fixed on you with barely veiled worry, his jaw locked so tight it ached. Worry gnawed at him as he took in your disheveled beauty, the way you stood tall amid the chaos you'd quelled. It ate at him that he couldn't cross to you, couldn't pull you into his arms or demand to see every inch of you unmarked. Not here, not with Neytiri's sharp gaze nearby and Neteyam's presence a constant reminder of the secrets he juggled.
She must be wondering why I'm not running to her, showing the concern she deserves as my mate.
He thought with his fists clenching at his sides. He'd make an excuse later to soothe you, something about protocol, about the eyes on them, anything to keep you from overthinking. Tonight, he'd slip away and find you in the quiet hours. To hold you close and trace every curve of your skin, to feel your heartbeat against his to confirm you were whole until the fear he felt in his stomach ebbed.
Tonowari cleared his throat, his authoritative presence refocusing the group.
"I'll send other warriors at first light to sweep the area, ensure no more linger." He declared as his gaze sweeps around everyone before his gaze steadied on you, waiting for confirmation.
You nodded, inclining your head respectfully, the motion graceful despite the battle's toll.
"That would be wise." You agreed, your voice carrying the quiet authority of experience.
Jake's gaze lingered on you, heavy and unspoken, tracing the blood-streaked path down your thigh to where it met the curve of your hip.
Neteyam caught it.
He noticed the lingering stare, the way his father's ears twitched almost imperceptibly. His brows furrowing slightly as he pieced together the intensity, a hunch forming in his sharp mind. Neteyam decided to test the waters, his voice cutting through the tension with calculated casualness as he turned to Jake.
"Don't worry, Dad." He said, the word dropping like a stone in still waters. "Nobody was hurt."
Your gaze snapped to him first, lilac eyes widening imperceptibly then flicked to Jake, locking onto his stiffened form.
He froze, his body going rigid, ears flattening as the revelation hung exposed.
Dad.
You hadn't known, well not for certain but the pieces slotted into place.
So they really are Jake's son.
Neteyam's features, especially Lo'ak's too, they were echoes of the man you've mated with in their strong jaws and watchful eyes. A bubble of laughter threatened to escape, absurd and triumphant at the confirmation of your suspicions but you schooled your face into unreadable calm, lips pressed thin, betraying nothing as you held his gaze a beat longer than necessary.
The air in the gathering area thickened with unspoken revelations, the salty breeze from the reef carrying the faint tang of seaweed and tension.
Neteyam's golden gaze probing with a mix of curiosity and dawning suspicion, his lithe frame shifting subtly as his tail flicked in agitation.
Jake's stare was heavier, laced with a desperate plea hidden behind his stoic mask, his broad shoulders squared but his tail flicking erratically against the woven floor showed the panic rising in his chest as he braced for your response.
Ronal's voice cut through the thickening silence, her tone firm yet laced with the quiet authority of a tsahìk, her slender fingers gesturing dismissively as she addressed the group.
"(Y/N), go rest now." She commanded gently as her eyes softened when they lingered on the crusted blood still flecking your grey skin, her teal skin glowing faintly under the pod's diffused light, the intricate beadwork on her arms catching the subtle shimmer. "Neytiri, go now with your husband and take your son with you to rest."
Jake's face dropped in that instant, the color draining from his azure cheeks, leaving his features etched with raw dismay. His ears pinned back flat against his skull, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles whitening as the full weight of exposure crashed over him. He could see it in your unreadable expression, realizing the truth you just uncovered, the way you now pieced together the tangled pieces.
His mating with Neytiri under the eyes of the Omatikaya, the children they'd raised together, all hidden from you during those stolen nights in Zä'raiya where he'd bound himself to you with tsaheylu, whispering promises under the glowing vines of how you were the only one. The betrayal he'd sown now bloomed and his chest tightened with the ache of it, his breath coming in shallow huffs.
A smirk threatened to tug at the corners of your full lips as a surge of dark satisfaction bubbled within you, hidden beneath the mask of composure you wore so effortlessly.
This was your golden opportunity, a chance to twist the knife without drawing blood, to play the role of the deceived lover who had no inkling of his divided loyalties. You schooled your features into one of faint betrayal, lilac eyes widening just enough to convey shock as you turned them on Jake, acting as if the revelation of his mating was a fresh wound, your lower lip trembling ever so slightly for effect before inhaling softly.
"Oh wow." You said, your voice dripping with feigned admiration, light and polite as you tilted your head toward Neytiri, letting your gaze sweep over her form, the way her braids framed her face, her tail curling protectively around Neteyam's leg. "Toruk Makto is one lucky man to have you Neytiri as a mate."
You smiled then, a polite curve of your lips that didn't quite reach your eyes, the expression softening the sharp lines of your face into something sweet and deferential.
Neytiri eased up at your words, her tense shoulders relaxing as a small grateful nod passed between you, her golden eyes flickering with relief, the curve of her neck arching as she exhaled.
But to Jake, it was a blow that landed square in the gut.
His breath hitching audibly, his yellow eyes darkening with pain as he realized the double edge to your statement, the subtle accusation woven into the praise as guilt clawed at his insides.
And for Neteyam, it was confirmation, a gut punch that twisted his suspicions into certainty, his ears pinning back flat against his skull, the hint of some illicit connection between you and his father.
She knows him intimately.
He thought, fury simmering beneath his composed exterior, his fingers twitching at his sides as he glanced between you and the quiet man, the confirmation twisting like a thorn in his chest.
You excused yourself then, voice steady and courteous as you inclined your head to the group, the motion sending a ripple through your white hair.
"If you'll pardon me." You murmured, not sparing Jake so much as a glance, your tail swaying with deliberate calm as you turned away.
Your bare feet padded softly against the platform, the sway of your hips accentuated by the woven skirt clinging to your thighs, carrying you out of the pod and into the open air of Awa'atlu. The village hummed around you with the distant calls of ilu riders mingling with the crash of waves but your focus narrowed to the path leading to the beach, the golden sands stretching invitingly under the fading light.
You knew Jake would follow, the pull between you was a tether he couldn't ignore, no matter the cost. Not long after, the sound of hurried footsteps reached your ears, heavy and determined against the shore making a satisfied curled at your lips.
"Baby." Jake's voice called out, raw and pleading, thick with the desperation of a man grasping at fraying threads.
But you schooled your expression into one of deep hurt, letting tears well in your lilac eyes, the moisture catching the moonlight like shattered stars as you pivoted to face him slowly, your grey skin paling slightly in the dim glow, the lines of your throat working as you swallowed back a fabricated sob.
"Don't fucking call me that, you liar." You spat, the words venomous and raw, your voice cracking on the edge of anger as tears began to trace salty paths down your cheeks, glistening against the subtle iridescence of your skin. Your hands balled into fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms, the posture of your body screaming betrayal, the subtle hunch of your shoulders, the way your chest heaved with each ragged breath.
Jake's face twisted in pain at the sight of your tears, his heart seizing in his chest as he took in the shimmer in your eyes, the way they caught the dying sun like fractured amethysts.
He hadn't anticipated the unraveling like this. The careful web of deceptions he'd spun now ensnaring him in its collapse. His broad frame seemed to deflate, the lines of his arms hanging limp as he stepped forward hesitantly, the sand shifting under his weight.
"Let me explain, please." He pleaded, voice breaking on the last word, his hands reaching out as if to bridge the chasm, fingers trembling with the need to touch you, to erase the hurt he'd caused.
"Explain what?" You yelled, the sound echoing over the waves, playing into the act with fervor as you flung your arms wide. Tears spilled freely now, hot and unrelenting, blurring your vision as you fixed him with a gaze of pure anguish, your full lips quivering. "That you lied to me? That you mated with me while you have a wife and have kids with her as well?"
The accusation hung heavy as you let the sobs build. Chest wracked with them as you halted to face him fully, lilac eyes rimmed red and pleading in their feigned innocence.
"All this time, Jake." You continued, voice fracturing into whispers between gasps, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand, smearing the tears across your skin. "That's why when I came here, you haven't been with me all the time, even if we mated. It's because you didn't want everyone to know you cheated on your real mate. Didn't want me to know you played with me."
The words poured out, laced with venomous hurt, your tail lashing behind you like a whip as you drew in a shuddering breath. You pressed on, stepping closer only to jab a finger toward his chest, the proximity allowing the heat of your body to mingle with his, the scent of salt and adrenaline sharp between you.
"Is that it? You used me?" You accused, voice dropping to a wounded hiss, fresh tears carving paths over your collarbone, tracing the golden markings there. "Made me believe you love me so my clan would aid you in this war? You're cruel, Jake Sully. You were my first. I let you touch me, let you make tsaheylu with me, all for it to be a fucking lie."
The sobs overtook you then, body folding inward as you hugged your arms around your torso, the strength of your frame belying the vulnerability you projected, grey skin flushed with the intensity of the performance.
Jake's heart shattered audibly in the silence that followed, a low groan escaping his throat as he watched you crumble. His own eyes brimming now, the powerful warrior reduced to a man adrift. He stepped closer, closing the gap with deliberate care, his hands finally finding your shoulders. Warm rough palms sliding down your arms in a soothing glide, thumbs brushing away the tears as best he could.
"Baby, no." He murmured, voice thick with anguish, his breath warm against your forehead as he leaned in, the familiar scent of him enveloping you. "I admit I didn't tell you the truth about me being mated with her, but I... my feelings for you are real. I fell in love with you. I didn't want to but I did. I felt like I was me again when I was with you. Before the war, before the responsibilities."
"No." You whispered, shaking your head vehemently, white hair whipping across your face as you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, the hurt in your lilac eyes like daggers.
The tears continued their relentless flow, dripping from your chin onto the sand, your body quaking with the force of your sobs.
"Baby, please." He begged, his voice a raw plea, hands tightening on your arms as if to anchor you both, his yellow eyes searching yours desperately, the lines around them deepening with desperation. "I choose you, always you. Let me prove it after this war. You are the one who has my heart now. We've mated before Eywa. You are my mate."
You shook your head again, the motion sending tears flying, your features contorted in sorrow as you wrenched free from his grasp, stepping back toward the waves.
"I need time." You sobbed, voice muffled by your hands as you covered your face briefly, shoulders shaking. "I don't even know if I can believe you anymore, Jake. You hurt me. You lied to me."
With that, you turned, fleeing down the beach, the cool water lapping at your ankles as you vanished into the shadows of the palms, leaving him alone with the roar of the sea.
Jake's world crashed down around him in that moment, the strength leaching from his legs as he sank to his knees in the sand, grains clinging to his knees and thighs like accusations. His head bowed, braids falling forward to curtain his devastated expression, a guttural sound of loss tearing from his chest as he stared at the spot where you'd disappeared, hands digging into the wet earth as if to hold onto the fragments of what he'd broken. His broad back hunched, shoulders shaking with silent tremors, the mighty Toruk Makto reduced to a broken figure under the stars' indifferent gaze.
Unbeknownst to Jake, a figure lurked in the treeline, hidden by the dense fronds that swayed in the night breeze. Neteyam, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscles bulged along his mandible, fury boiling in his veins like molten lava. His golden eyes narrowed to slits, had witnessed every tear-streaked moment, every pleading word from his father's lips, the entire heartbreaking exchange etching itself into his soul.
He'd followed on instinct, curiosity pulling him after the charged exchange earlier but now he watched. Watched you sob with a vulnerability that twisted something deep in his chest, watched his father plead like a man drowning. He watched you storm away as your usually graceful form wracked with anguish. He watched his father kneel, the mighty Toruk Makto reduced to a broken shell, and heard every fucking word. The admissions of love between you, the choice of you over his family.
The woman he found himself drawn to, the one he had come to liked, the fierce Zä'raiya warrior whose lilac eyes had sparked something warm in his chest during your shared flights and teasing banter was mated to his father.
It all clicked now.
The way your gaze had searched the crowds upon arriving at Awa'atlu, locking onto Jake with that hidden intensity. How he'd run to you with urgency under the guise of good alliance, the touches lingering too long. Neteyam's fists balled at his sides, nails biting into his palms as vile images assaulted him. You and his dad, bodies entwined in tsaheylu, queues connecting in a bond with his father's hands on your skin that mocked his own budding feelings for you.
Rage simmered within him, hot and unyielding, fists balling at his sides until his knuckles whitened.
His father had cheated on his mother, the betrayal a fresh wound that reopened old scars. Neteyam remembered the times his father returned from scouting or meetings, distant and withdrawn, his yellow eyes haunted. The sweet moments between his parents that had evaporated like mist, no more shared glances over the fire, no tender brushes of tails.
His mother, Neytiri, always so strong, looking dismissed and alone in their marui, her smiles forced as she tended to the family.
It was because of you.
His dad had fallen for you right under their noses while Neteyam had been here pining, oblivious and now seething with a fury that made his chest heave.
He lingered there, breath ragged, watching Jake remain kneeling on the sand, devastated and alone, the waves lapping at his knees like mocking whispers and for the first time, Neteyam felt no pity. His heart pounded with a toxic mix of anger, betrayal and something sharper, jealousy perhaps or the sting of lost possibility.
He turned away, melting into the shadows, the weight of what he'd learned pressing down like the ocean itself.
~
The moon hung low over Awa'atlu, its silvery light filtering through the palm fronds and casting elongated shadows across the sandy path leading to your marui. Your bare feet sank into the cool grains with each step, the faint residue of saltwater from the beach still clinging to your ankles, a subtle reminder of the emotional storm you'd just orchestrated. As the waves' rhythmic murmur faded behind you, you lifted a hand to your face, brushing away the last traces of those carefully crafted tears with the back of your fingers.
A pleased smile curved your full lips, slow and satisfied, the expression softening the sharp angles of your high cheekbones and making your lilac eyes sparkle with quiet triumph.
Toruk Makto. Jake Sully, the legendary warrior, reduced to tears over you?
It was a feat in itself, a delicious unraveling of the unbreakable facade he'd worn for so long. How entertaining this web of secrets had become, each thread pulling tighter, drawing in the players you'd chosen to ensnare.
You pushed aside the woven flap of your marui, the interior enveloping you in a familiar hush scented with woven reeds and the faint, briny tang of the sea. The space was modest yet inviting, the bioluminescent vines draped along the walls casting a soft ethereal glow that danced across your low sleeping platform piled with soft furs.
Dried blood from the earlier skirmish crusted along your grey skin in flaky patterns. Streaks across your collarbone, flecks dotting the elegant swell of your biceps, remnants of the Mangkwan foes you'd dispatched without mercy.
You moved toward the basin of fresh water near the entrance, dipping a cloth into its cool depths, ready to scrub away the evidence of battle when a firm knock echoed against the frame. Pausing, you turned, the water dripping from the cloth in lazy rivulets onto the floor.
The flap parted, and Ao'nung stepped inside, his broad frame filling the doorway like a sentinel, the intricate tattoos swirling across his teal shoulders and down his toned arms catching the dim light. His teal eyes, sharp and concerned, scanned you immediately, lingering on the marred patches of your skin.
He'd heard about your encounter with the Mangkwans through his father and mother. Tonowari's grave recounting of the threat at the borders, Ronal's terse warnings about escalating tensions and the moment the words had left their lips, he'd excused himself from the family marui. His heart pounding with a fierce need to ensure your safety. Now, seeing you like this, his jaw tightened subtly, the muscles along his neck flexing as he closed the distance in three purposeful strides, his tail swaying with restrained urgency.
"Are you okay, princess?" He asked, his voice low and laced with genuine worry, the endearment rolling off his tongue like a caress as he reached out, his large hand hovering near your arm without touching, waiting for permission.
A warm smile bloomed on your face, genuine this time, as you nodded, the motion sending a few loose strands of your white hair cascading over one shoulder, framing the graceful line of your jaw.
How cute he was, the future olo'eyktan, heir to the Metkayina's strength, fretting over you like a devoted lover, his usual cocky demeanor softened by the crease between his brows and the way his ears flared slightly in agitation.
Without another word, Ao'nung snatched the cloth from your hand, his fingers brushing yours in a spark of warmth, and guided you toward the sleeping platform with a gentle tug on your wrist. He sat first, his powerful thighs spreading wide as he pulled you down onto his lap, facing him, your knees bracketing his hips in an intimate straddle. The heat of his body seeped through your harness, his chest rising and falling steadily against yours, the defined ridges of his abdomen pressing into your softer curves.
Dipping the cloth into the basin he'd brought closer, he began wiping at the dried blood with careful strokes. First along the curve of your neck, the fabric gliding over the sensitive hollow of your throat then down to the swell of your breasts, his touch reverent yet lingering. Each pass of the cloth was followed by a soft peck of his lips. A brush against your collarbone that sent a shiver racing down your spine, another on the inside of your wrist as he lifted your arm to clean the flecks there, his breath warm and minty against your skin.
You couldn't resist teasing him, your voice light and playful as you tilted your head, exposing more of your neck to his ministrations.
"Is this how caring the future olo'eyktan will be with his mate?" The words danced between you, laced with coy challenge, your lilac eyes locking onto his with a spark of mischief.
He grinned then, a flash of white teeth against his full lips, the expression boyish and heated as he leaned in, nipping at the firm muscle of your shoulder. Not hard enough to break skin but enough to draw a gasp from you, the slight sting blooming into warmth.
"Yes." He murmured against your flesh, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated through you, his hands settling on your hips to hold you steady. "This is how I'll be with you."
The promise hung in the air, possessive and tender, his teal eyes darkening with intent as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze.
Rolling your eyes with an affectionate smile, you leaned forward, pressing a soft smooch to his lips. Gentle at first, a mere brush of plush against plush, tasting the salt of the sea on him. His heart thudded audibly in his chest, a rapid drumbeat you could feel against your own and he reciprocated eagerly, one hand sliding up to cup the nape of your neck, fingers threading into your white hair as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping in to tangle with yours in a slow exploratory dance.
His big hands roamed lower, squeezing the firm globes of your ass with a firm grip that made you arch into him, the pressure sending jolts of pleasure through your core. You both pulled away eventually, breaths mingling in the scant space between you and you beamed at him, your eyes half-lidded and coy, the flush of arousal tinting your grey cheeks a subtle hue.
"Stay the night?" You whispered, the invitation soft but undeniable, your fingers tracing idle patterns along the tattoos on his chest.
He grinned wider, that confident spark returning as he shifted pulling you down with him onto the furs in a fluid motion, your bodies aligning side by side.
"Like I'd leave." He replied, voice husky with affection, wrapping his arms around your waist to draw you flush against him.
He was endlessly touchy, his hands never still. Stroking the length of your back in soothing sweeps, thumbing the dip of your waist, pressing feather-light kisses to your temple and the shell of your ear. You melted into it, your own hands exploring the solid planes of his shoulders, the two of you entwining like vines until exhaustion claimed you, tails curling together in a loose knot, breaths syncing in the quiet night.
The next morning, sunlight filtered through the marui's gaps in golden shafts, warming the air with the promise of a new day.
You stirred first or so you thought, blinking away the haze of sleep to find Ao'nung already awake, propped on one elbow beside you, his teal eyes soft and intent as they traced the peaceful lines of your face. He'd been watching you sleep, unwilling to disturb the rare vulnerability you showed in repose, his fingers occasionally brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead.
A small spread of breakfast lay nearby, fresh fruits from the reefside groves, a few skewers of grilled fish he'd gathered while you slumbered, the scents mingling invitingly.
A sleepy smile tugged at your lips as awareness fully returned and he leaned down immediately, capturing your mouth in a tender kiss, his lips warm and unhurried, tasting faintly of the sea breeze.
"Morning, princess." He murmured against you, pulling back with reluctance.
You hummed contentedly, still languid, and he reached for the food, feeding you bites with gentle insistence. A juicy slice of fruit pressed to your lips, his thumb wiping away a stray drop of juice from your chin, followed by a tender morsel of fish that he coaxed you to chew, his gaze never leaving yours, filled with a quiet adoration that made your chest warm.
But duty called as it always did.
"I have to go scout the outer reefs." He said eventually, voice tinged with regret as he sat up, his muscles rippling under his skin with the motion. "But I'll come find you after, promise."
You nodded, propping yourself up on your elbows, the furs pooling around your waist.
What followed was a lazy kiss, tongues sliding together in a heated tangle, his hands groping your thighs and hips with possessive squeezes that drew soft moans from you, mapping the curves he'd worshiped before. He pulled away reluctantly, forehead resting against yours for a lingering moment, breath ragged, before forcing himself to stand, casting one last heated glance over his shoulder as he ducked out.
Once he was gone, you smiled playfully to the empty space, shaking your head at his departure. Such a clingy man, always had been with you. Fiercely affectionate like he couldn't bear even a moment's separation from you.
Stretching languidly, you arched your back, feeling the satisfying pull in your limbs, the grey skin of your torso gleaming in the morning light as you rose. You changed into a fresh clothes, the woven material hugging your form snugly, accentuating the subtle flare of your hips and the toned length of your legs before stepping out into the bustling village.
The beach stretched before you, alive with the cries of gulls and the splash of ilu breaching the shallows, the water a sparkling turquoise under the climbing sun.
Your eyes scanned the scene until they landed on Lo'ak, his lithe frame balanced effortlessly as he mounted his ilu, the creature's sleek hide rippling under his touch, its fins flaring in response to his commands. His braids were tied back for the ride, exposing the strong column of his neck, and his golden eyes focused intently on the task.
"Lo'ak." You called out, your voice carrying easily over the waves, light and inviting.
He turned at the sound, his head whipping around with a fluid grace and a smile crawled up his lips. It was slow and genuine, lighting the sharp features of his face, the lines in his cheeks deepening. Ever since that heartfelt talk you'd shared days ago, opening up about the weights you both carried, he'd shed some of his guarded shell. Conversations flowed easier now, laced with easy laughter, and touches came without hesitation such as a brush of shoulders during gatherings or a reassuring hand on your arm.
You approached the water's edge, the foam licking at your toes, and tilted your head curiously. "Where are you heading?"
The question made a slight frown pull at his brows, the expression fleeting but telling, his ears twitching as he gripped the ilu's reins tighter. He was off to see Payakan, his spirit brother, a secret solace in the chaos of clan politics and family expectations. But admitting it outright felt like inviting scrutiny as he’s used to being met with judgmental opinions so he hesitated, golden eyes flicking to the horizon before sighing, the sound heavy with resignation.
"Just gonna go check on something." He said vaguely, his voice casual but edged with caution, his tail flicking against the ilu's side.
Undeterred, you pouted playfully, your lower lip jutting out in a way that softened the fierce beauty of your features, lilac eyes wide and imploring. "Take me with you?"
He couldn't say no. Not to that face, not to you.
A warm chuckle escaped him as he extended a hand. He urged you, nodding to the space behind him on the ilu. "C'mon then."
You waded in, the water cool against your calves, and mounted gracefully, settling against his back. Your arms wrapped around his waist, fingers splaying across the firm muscles of his abdomen, your thighs squeezing his hips for balance as the ilu shifted beneath you. He could feel the soft press of your breasts against his back, warm and yielding through the thin fabric, sending a subtle flush creeping up his neck as he urged the creature forward into deeper waters.
The ilu glided through the crystalline waters with effortless grace, slicing past schools of iridescent fish that darted away in shimmering bursts, their scales catching the sunlight like scattered jewels. The reef gave way to deeper expanses, where the ocean floor dropped into an abyssal blue and the air grew thicker with the scent of salt.
Lo'ak's body tensed slightly under your hold as the familiar silhouette emerged from the depths. A massive tulkun, its barnacle-encrusted hide mottled in patterns of gray and white, fins undulating lazily as it surfaced with a resonant blowhole exhale that misted the air around you. Payakan's enormous eye fixed on the approaching pair, recognition lighting its depths as Lo'ak urged the ilu closer.
You arrived at the secluded cove, a hidden sanctuary ringed by jagged coral outcrops that shielded it from the main currents, the water here calm and glassy, reflecting the endless sky above.
Lo'ak dismounted first, his form leaping onto a flat rock protruding from the shallows, water sluicing off his blue skin in rivulets that traced the lean muscles of his calves and thighs. He extended a hand to help you down, his golden eyes bright with a mix of anticipation and caution, the faint scars from past skirmishes etching fine lines across his knuckles.
"Payakan!" He called out, his voice echoing across the waves with a raw brotherly affection, the sound carrying a depth of longing that spoke to months of shared secrets. "Brother!"
Excitement bubbled within you, a thrill chasing away the lingering warmth from the ride, your lilac eyes widening as the tulkun drew nearer, its massive bulk displacing water in gentle swells that lapped at the rocks. You'd heard tales of tulkun from Zä'raiya elders, they were gentle giants of the sea, bonded souls to the Na'vi but seeing one up close was like glimpsing Eywa's own heartbeat, majestic and alive. Your heart quickened, fingers itching to get closer with this ancient being, the air humming with the subtle vibrations of his approach.
Lo'ak turned to you, his expression softening as he read the wonder on your face, the way your white hair fluttered in the breeze like silken threads, framing the elegant arch of your brows. He signed fluidly to Payakan, his hands cutting through the air in deliberate gestures then spoke aloud for your benefit, his tone steady but edged with old pain.
"He's an outcast." Lo'ak explained, gesturing toward the tulkun's scarred flank where faint marks from human harpoons marred the otherwise smooth expanse. "The Metkayina and the council... they think he killed another tulkun and a Na'vi scout years ago. But he didn't, it was the sky people. Payakan's innocent but no one listens."
His voice cracked slightly on the last word, golden eyes dropping to the water, the muscles in his jaw clenching as memories resurfaced, his tail flicking irritably against the rock.
Sadness tugged at your chest, a quiet ache for this misunderstood creature whose only crime was loyalty to its people. You watched Payakan circle closer, his eye conveying a patient wisdom that belied the isolation he endured and your throat tightened with empathy. Lo'ak's words hung heavy, revealing the isolation he shared with his spirit brother, the weight of disbelief from those who should protect them both.
You could tell he was upset, the way his shoulders hunched subtly, the vibrant energy that usually sparked in his movements dimmed by frustration, his full lips pressed into a thin line that highlighted the determined set of his chin.
Reaching out, you placed your hands on his shoulders, feeling the taut cords of muscle beneath your palms, warm and resilient despite the tension. Leaning in, you bumped your nose gently against his cheek, the affectionate gesture nuzzling the smooth plane of his skin, inhaling the faint earthy scent of him mingled with seawater.
"Well, I believe you and Payakan." You murmured softly, your voice laced with conviction, eyes locking onto his with unwavering support. "No creature of Eywa would hurt their own. Even then, not without reason."
Lo'ak's heart lightened at your touch and words, a warmth spreading through his chest like sunlight piercing clouds, easing the knot of resentment he'd carried for so long. The pull he felt toward you intensified, a magnetic draw that made his pulse quicken, drawing his gaze to the delicate curve of your lips, the subtle glow of your grey skin under the sun.
He turned to face you fully, his body shifting with a fluid grace, close enough that you could see the flecks of amber in his irises and you beamed at him, the smile radiant and genuine, crinkling the corners of your eyes and revealing the playful dimple in your left cheek.
"Can I touch him?" You asked, your voice eager yet respectful, tilting your head as you glanced toward the tulkun, your fingers still lingering on Lo'ak's shoulders.
Lo'ak grinned, the expression boyish and relieved, transforming his features from shadowed worry to open delight, his ears perking forward as he signed to Payakan with quick, enthusiastic motions explaining your admiration, your desire to connect.
Payakan responded with a low, rumbling vibration that resonated through the water, a affirmative hum that sent ripples across the surface, his massive fin tilting invitingly.
You waded into the shallows, the cool water embracing your legs up to your thighs and extended your hand, fingers splaying against Payakan's rough, textured hide. The contact was electric, it was like a surge of shared life force, Eywa's essence flowing between you, the tulkun's warmth seeping into your palm as you traced the ridges of barnacles and scars, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath.
Lo'ak watched you from the rock, immense adoration swelling in his chest, a fierce protectiveness blooming as he took in the sight. Your form half-submerged, white hair trailing into the water like liquid silver, the graceful arch of your back as you leaned forward. You embodied a quiet strength, unafraid to bridge the divide, and it stirred something deep within him, a longing that went beyond friendship.
Pulling your hand back reluctantly, you turned to him with an innocent expression, lilac eyes wide and curious, water droplets beading on your lashes like tiny pearls. "Does Tsireya know about Payakan?"
He nodded, pushing off the rock to join you in the water, his movements economical and strong, splashing lightly as he stood beside you, the level lapping at his waist.
"Yeah, she does." He replied, voice tinged with a mix of fondness and frustration, his hand absently trailing through the waves. "But she's hesitant still. Her parents are the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik, they lead the charge against him, say he's dangerous, a threat to the clan. It's hard for her to go against that."
His gaze drifted to the horizon, the conflict evident in the subtle furrow of his brow, the way his fingers clenched at his sides.
You hummed thoughtfully, the sound low and contemplative, your mind flickering briefly to Jake. The parallels in familial expectations, the sting of dismissal. Feigning nonchalance, you kept your tone light, splashing a hand idly in the water to mask the probing intent. "What about your father, Toruk Makto?"
Lo'ak scoffed, a sharp exhale that cut through the serene air, shaking his head with a bitter twist to his mouth, braids swaying with the motion.
"He thinks I bring shame to the family." He said, voice rough with hurt, golden eyes hardening as he stared at Payakan. "Calls me a walking disappointment. Always has, for one thing or another."
The words landed heavy, laced with the exhaustion of repeated rejection, his broad shoulders slumping just a fraction under the invisible weight.
Rolling your eyes in shared exasperation, the gesture expressive and dismissive of such narrow views, you withdrew from Payakan's side, the water swirling around your hips as you turned fully to Lo'ak. Closing the distance, you walked closer and cupped his face in your hands, thumbs stroking the high planes of his cheekbones, feeling the curve of his jawline, the warmth radiating from his flushed skin. Your touch was gentle yet firm, grounding him, lilac eyes searching his with earnest intensity.
"You are not a disappointment, Lo'ak." You said firmly, voice infused with warmth and conviction, leaning in so your breaths mingled. "You are brave, you see the good in everyone even when the world blinds itself to it. You are enough. I see you, Lo'ak."
The words hung between you, a vow of recognition that pierced the armor he'd built around his heart.
His eyes softened as he looked at you, the golden depths shimmering with unshed emotion, your affirmation striking deeper than any battlefield victory, validating the parts of himself he'd long doubted. It meant everything, more than you could fathom, it was easing the fractures in his spirit like balm on a wound. He couldn't resist it anymore, the walls crumbling under the weight of your gaze, your touch igniting a fire he'd tried to smother for Tsireya's sake.
Before, he'd kept his distance, interactions sparse to honor his courtship, but now, here in this hidden haven, with you holding him like he was worthy, he was succumbing. Letting the guilt dissolve, allowing himself to indulge in the connection that had simmered unspoken. And you saw it, clear as the sun on water, in the way his pupils dilated, the subtle shift in his posture from guarded to open, erasing the loyalty to Tsireya in favor of this pull toward you.
His hands rose to your waist, fingers digging into the soft give of your sides with a squeeze that was both tentative and claiming, calluses scraping lightly against your grey skin, sending a shiver through you.
"You mean that?" He whispered, voice husky with vulnerability, searching your face as if afraid it was a dream.
You giggled softly, the sound light and teasing, nudging your nose against his in an intimate eskimo kiss. The action bold and tender, a direct affront to his bond with Tsireya, sealing the moment with unspoken promise.
"Every word." You replied, your lips brushing his in the proximity, eyes sparkling with affection.
He grinned then, a boyish flash of teeth that lit his entire face, dimples carving deep into his cheeks, the expression pure and unguarded, echoing the youthful charm that made him irresistible.
You smiled back, warmth flooding you at the sight, noting how much he resembled his father in that instant. The same roguish tilt to the grin, the same intense, adoring gleam in his eyes when they fixed on you, a genetic echo that stirred a complex thrill in your chest.
"Thank you, paskalin." He murmured, the endearment rolling off his tongue with sincere gratitude, his hands squeezing your waist again, marveling at how soft and pliant you felt under his grip, the curve of your hips fitting perfectly against his palms. "Wanna go ride on Payakan?"
The invitation playful, his grin widening as excitement returned to his features.
You giggled once more, nodding eagerly, the sound bubbling up as he pulled you toward the tulkun with gentle insistence, his arm looping around your waist to steady you against the rocking waves.
Payakan positioned himself lower in the water, his broad back a natural platform and Lo'ak hoisted you up first, his hands firm on your thighs as he lifted you atop the creature's slick hide, the motion showcasing the strength in his arms, veins standing out along his forearms. You settled in front, knees bent and hands gripping the ridges for balance, while he climbed behind you, his chest pressing solidly to your back, a reassuring wall of warmth and muscle.
With a subtle cue from Lo'ak, Payakan surged forward, soaring through the water with smooth, powerful undulations, the world blurring into a rush of blue and foam.
His arms wrapped around you protectively, one forearm banding across your midriff, fingers splaying over your stomach, the other securing your hip, pulling you flush against him. The wind whipped at your hair, carrying the salty tang of the sea and you leaned back into his embrace, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breaths, the subtle thrum of his heartbeat syncing with yours and Payakan's, a triad bound in this exhilarating freedom.
Payakan glided through the open sea with a rhythmic power, his enormous body cutting through the waves like a living vessel, sending sprays of foam arcing into the air that cooled your sun-warmed skin. The horizon stretched endlessly, a blend of turquoise depths and cerulean sky, unbroken except for the occasional leap of distant fish breaching the surface.
You still sat nestled in front of Lo'ak, your back molded against the firm planes of his torso, the heat of him seeping through the thin barrier of your woven top. His arms encircled you like a shield, one forearm is still draped across your abdomen, fingers splayed possessively over the subtle dip of your navel while the other hand is now rested on your outer thigh, tracing idle shapes of swirling patterns that danced along the smooth expanse of your grey flesh, dipping into the crease where leg met hip with a feather-light pressure that sent tingles racing up your spine.
The motion was absentminded at first but you felt the subtle shift in his touch, the way his fingertips lingered longer on each curve, mapping the resilient give of your muscles beneath the skin. A question bubbled from him then, his breath warm against the shell of your ear, voice pitched low to cut through the rush of water and wind.
"I'm curious." Lo'ak said, the words casual but laced with an undercurrent of tension, his chest rising and falling a touch quicker against your shoulders. "Is there something between you and Ao'nung?"
Internally, you smirked, the expression hidden as you savored the telltale signs of his feigned nonchalance. The slight hitch in his breathing, the way his tracing fingers paused mid-swirl. He was masking jealousy, that sharp edge of interest sharpening his tone just enough to betray him, much like his father who bristled at any hint of Ao'nung's proximity to you. Jake's protectiveness had always simmered beneath the surface, a territorial glint in his eyes whenever the Metkayina heir drew too near and now here was Lo'ak, echoing that same instinctive threat, his body subtly leaning into yours as if to stake a claim.
You shrugged lightly, the motion rolling your shoulders against his chest, snuggling deeper into the cradle of his embrace, feeling the steady thump of his heart quicken through the contact. Your white hair cascaded over one shoulder, brushing his arm like silken threads and you tilted your head back slightly, exposing the line of your neck.
"He says he wants to court me." You replied, voice light and matter-of-fact, letting the words hang in the salty air as Payakan dipped lower, the water lapping higher against your legs.
You felt him tense immediately, a rigid coil of muscle along his frame, his hand on your thigh clenching with sudden force, fingers digging into the plush inner curve just above your knee, the pressure firm enough to leave faint imprints on your skin. The shift was electric, his breath catching audibly and you could almost hear the gears turning in his mind, frustration flickering through him like a storm cloud.
"I haven't given him a definite answer." You continued, twisting slightly to glance at his profile, your lilac eyes catching the way his jaw tightened, the sharp angle of it casting a shadow in the sunlight. "But you know how he is, he'll do it one way or another."
Your tone carried a hint of amusement, acknowledging Ao'nung's relentless pursuit without endorsing it, the words designed to stoke the fire already kindling in Lo'ak's gut.
He knew exactly how Ao'nung operated.
That unyielding drive to claim what caught his eye, hellbent and unapologetic and it pissed him off. The realization fueling a possessive surge that made his grip flex involuntarily. Ao'nung's confidence bordered on arrogance, always bending situations to his will and the thought of him circling you like a skulking predator ignited a rare spark of anger in Lo'ak's golden eyes, narrowing them against the glare off the waves.
Curiosity sparked in you then, feigned innocence softening your features as you turned the conversation, your voice lilting with playful wonder.
"What about you and Tsireya?" You asked, batting your lashes up at him, the gesture coy as you shifted your weight, pressing your hip back into his groin just enough to feel the subtle warmth there. "How is the courtship?"
Lo'ak shrugged dismissively, the motion jerky, his broad shoulders rolling under the harness straps, but the nonchalance rang hollow, his hand loosening slightly on your thigh only to slide higher, thumb brushing the edge of your hip bone.
"It's alright." He muttered, voice gruff with evasion, gaze fixed on the horizon where Payakan's fin sliced the water. "We haven't planned anything too serious yet especially since the war is looming. Maybe after the war, courting will get more serious. For now, it's... stagnant."
The admission slipped out heavier than intended, his free hand clenching into a fist against your stomach, the word “stagnant” tasting bitter on his tongue, evoking the fear gnawing at him. That this limbo with Tsireya would stretch on, fading into irrelevance as his budding feelings for you took root, twisting deeper with every shared glance, every accidental brush of skin.
You smiled to yourself, the curve of your lips hidden against his chest, reveling in the turmoil radiating from him, the internal war between duty and desire, his pulse racing under your cheek like a drumbeat. Sensing the vulnerability, you reached down and squeezed his hand where it rested so intimately on your thigh, interlacing your fingers briefly, feeling the calluses on his palm rough against your softer skin.
"Tsireya will be lucky to have you as a mate." You said, infusing your tone with a deliberate note of disappointment, a wistful sigh that made your breath ghost over his arm, your body arching subtly into his hold.
His heart hammered faster at that, a frantic rhythm you could feel vibrating through his ribs, quickening like the wings of a startled ikran, his breath hitching as your words sank in, stirring a whirlwind of longing and doubt.
"Because if it was me." You added, voice dropping to a husky murmur, turning your head to meet his eyes fully, your lilac gaze locking onto the stormy gold of his. "I'd definitely feel like the luckiest woman if I got to be your mate."
You giggled casually then, the sound light and teasing, bubbling up like sea foam, knowing full well the seeds you were planting were visions that would haunt him, blooming unbidden in his mind.
And they did.
Flashes of a life intertwined with you and not Tsireya were spilling. Waking to your laughter in a shared marui, your bodies tangled in the early light, kissing you deeply under the stars, hands exploring every inch. An older you, belly swollen with his child, his palm splayed reverently over the curve as he whispered promises. The sight of your breasts heavy and full, nipples pebbling under his gaze. Thrusting inside you, your walls clenching around him in ecstasy, moans spilling from your lips like prayers to Eywa.
The images flooded him and he loved the idea more than any future with Tsireya, the realization hitting like a tidal wave, admitting the depth of his shift in a way that both thrilled and terrified him.
His hands tightened on you in response, fingers pressing deeper into your flesh. One at your waist, the other resuming its knead on your thigh, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest, the hard lines of his pectorals molding to your spine. He looked down at your face, the angle allowing him to trace the delicate sweep of your jaw, the way sunlight gilded the edges of your white hair and you tilted your chin up to meet his stare, your expression open and inviting, lips parted slightly in anticipation.
"If I was your mate." Lo'ak breathed, voice rough with emotion, golden eyes darkening with raw hunger as they roamed your features. "I'd be the luckiest man too, paskalin."
You bit your lower lip, the plump flesh caught between your teeth, a subtle flush creeping across your grey cheeks as you held his eyes, the gesture drawing his attention downward, his pupils flaring at the sight before snapping back to yours, charged with unspoken promises.
"Yeah?" You whispered, the word breathy, challenging him softly, your tail flicking lazily against his leg in the water's sway.
He grinned then, a flash of that boyish charm breaking through the tension, dimples carving into his cheeks as he nudged his nose against yours in another tender eskimo kiss, the tips brushing with intimate familiarity, his breath mingling with yours in the close space.
"Yeah." He affirmed, voice dropping lower, laced with conviction. "The luckiest."
You giggled again, the sound carefree and unburdened, not a shred of care for Tsireya in your heart as you let the words flow freely, emboldened by the shift in him.
"Imagine us being mates." You mused, eyes turning coy, half-lidded as you leaned into his touch, your hand covering his on your thigh to guide it higher, encouraging the exploration. "We'd probably have a big family because you look like you're... insatiable."
The tease hung playful yet provocative, your gaze flicking down to his lips before returning to his eyes, the implication clear in the sultry arch of your brow.
Lo'ak's body heated up at your words, a flush blooming across his blue skin, starting at his neck and spreading to his ears, his breath coming shorter as desire coiled low in his belly, making his hold on you turn possessive, fingers threading higher up your thighs, kneading the firm yet yielding flesh with deliberate pressure, thumbs pressing into the sensitive inner skin, eliciting a soft shiver from you.
"We probably will." He agreed, voice husky and edged with growl, leaning down to murmur against your ear, his lips grazing the lobe as Payakan surged through a gentle swell, rocking you both closer. "With you as a mate, my appetite for you will know no bounds. Every day. Every night."
The words dripped with intent, his hands squeezing rhythmically now, mapping the contours of your legs with growing boldness, the friction of his palms against your skin building a slow burn that mirrored the one in his eyes.
You grinned at his response, the expression wicked and delighted, another giggle escaping as you reveled in how he was already crossing lines, unfaithful in thought and touch, the guilt that once shadowed him evaporating like mist under the sun. He truly mirrored his father, the fierce adoration they both harbored for you, the ease with which they embraced unfaithfulness, chasing the thrill of your attention without remorse.
How laughable it was, this familial echo of temptation, binding them both to you in ways that twisted fates and loyalties alike.
Payakan continued his steady path, the tulkun's low hum vibrating through his body and into yours, a soothing underscore to the charged intimacy unfolding atop him.
Lo'ak's touches grew more assured, his fingers tracing the hem of your loincloth now, dipping just beneath to brush the crease of your hip, while his other arm tightened around your waist, pulling your ass flush against his hardening length, the subtle grind of the ride amplifying the contact. You arched into it subtly, encouraging without words, your hand sliding up to tangle in his braids, tugging lightly to angle his face closer, breaths syncing in the salty breeze.
"Tell me more." You prompted softly, voice a sultry whisper, turning your head to nip at his jawline, teeth grazing the strong bone there, tasting the salt on his skin. "What would our days look like?"
He chuckled lowly, the sound rumbling from his chest, vibrating against your back as his lips found your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the column, tongue flicking out to savor the pulse fluttering there.
"Hunting together at dawn." He murmured between kisses, his hand on your thigh sliding inward, palm cupping your cunt between your legs through the thin fabric, thumb circling your clit with teasing pressure. "Coming back to our marui, you waiting for me with that smile then I'd have you right there, on the woven mats, legs wrapped around me as I fuck you slow, making you beg for more."
His words painted vivid pictures, breath hot against your skin, free hand roaming up to cup your soft breast, thumbing the peaked nipple through your top, rolling it until you gasped.
Your body responded instinctively, hips shifting to press into his touch, a soft moan escaping as you gripped his arm, nails digging into the corded muscle.
"And nights?" You breathed, eyes fluttering shut, head lolling back onto his shoulder, exposing more of your throat to his explorations.
"Nights…" He echoed, voice gravelly with want, nipping at your earlobe before soothing it with a lick, his hips rocking forward in time with Payakan's motion, grinding his clothed cock against your ass. "I'd take you under the stars, spread out on the beach, your cries echoing over the waves as I fill you up over and over until you're dripping with me, marked as mine."
His fingers slipped beneath your loincloth now, tracing your slick folds with a groan, finding you wet and ready, his eager fingers circling your puffy clit with expert precision that made your thighs clench around his big hand.
You whimpered, the sound raw and needy, bucking into his touch as pleasure sparked through you, your tail wrapping around his leg in a possessive coil.
"Lo'ak." You gasped, his name a plea, turning your face to capture his lips in a heated kiss, tongues tangling messily, all teeth and desperation, swallowing each other's moans as Payakan veered toward a hidden lagoon, the promise of privacy heightening the urgency.
He broke the kiss only to growl against your mouth. "I'd never let you go, ma'yawntutsyìp. Every inch of you, mine."
His fingers circled your clit before sliding down and plunged inside you. Two long fingers curling deep, thrusting in rhythm with his hips against your ass, building you toward the edge with relentless focus, his free hand pinning your hip to keep you steady for him to grind onto against the tulkun's sway.
The world narrowed to sensations. The slap of water, the stretch of his fingers, the press of his body until ecstasy crashed over you, walls fluttering around his fingers as you cried out, body shuddering in his arms. He followed soon after, grinding against you with a guttural moan, spilling into his loincloth, holding you tight through the aftershocks.
As Payakan slowed to a drift in the sheltered cove, fringed by glowing anemones and bioluminescent kelp, Lo'ak nuzzled your temple, voice soft now, sated. "This—us—it's real, isn't it?"
You nodded, turning to kiss him tenderly, the taste of salt and sweet promise on your lips.
"Real as Eywa's will." You whispered, knowing the web of desires you'd woven grew ever tighter, ensnaring him fully in your orbit.
The afterglow lingered like the soft hum of bioluminescent waves lapping at the lagoon's edges, Payakan's massive form drifting lazily in the sheltered cove, his gentle breaths creating ripples that mirrored the slow ebb of your shared release.
You turned in Lo'ak's arms, your body still humming with satisfaction, the slick warmth between your thighs a secret testament to his touch. His blue skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat under the dappled sunlight filtering through overhanging fronds, broad chest rising and falling in sync with yours. You leaned in, capturing his lips in a lazy kiss, tongues brushing with unhurried intimacy, your lilac eyes glinting with a predatory satisfaction as you savored the taste of him.
So easy to break, just like his father.
The thought flickered through your mind, a dark amusement curling in your chest as you nipped at his lower lip, drawing a low hum from his throat. You pulled away slowly, your breath mingling with his in the humid air, and pouted up at him, the expression deliberately vulnerable, your full lips pursing in feigned remorse as you traced a finger along the sharp ridge of his collarbone, feeling the subtle tremor there.
"I'm sorry, Lo'ak." You murmured, voice soft and laced with artificial regret, your white hair tumbling forward to frame your face like a veil of silk, catching the light in ethereal strands.
His brows furrowed immediately, golden eyes narrowing in confusion and concern, the fine lines etching deeper across his forehead as he pulled you closer, his strong arms banding around your waist, drawing your curves flush against the solid heat of his torso. The muscles in his biceps flexed with the motion, veins standing out against the blue expanse, and he tilted his head, searching your features with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. Not from fear but from the thrill of control.
"What do you mean, paskalin?" He asked, voice roughened by lingering desire, thumb stroking the small of your back in soothing arcs, the callused pad rough against your smoother skin.
You lowered your gaze demurely, lashes casting shadows over your cheeks, and let out a shaky sigh, your hands resting lightly on his chest, fingers splaying over the steady beat of his heart.
"I feel like such a bad friend to Tsireya." You confessed, the words tumbling out with a quiver as if the weight of them pained you. "I kissed you, let you touch me, knowing you'll be bound to her after the war, knowing she loves you."
Your tail flicked idly in the shallow water lapping at your hips, brushing against his in a subtle caress while you bit the inside corner of your lip, enhancing the picture of guilt.
Lo'ak shushed you gently, pressing a finger to your lips, the digit warm and insistent, his expression softening into one of fierce protectiveness, eyes darkening with resolve as he shook his head.
"It's not your fault." He insisted, voice firm yet tender, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours, the warmth of his breath fanning your face. "It was mine, all of it and I don't regret a single moment."
He paused swallowing hard, the bob of his throat visible in the column of his neck, before continuing, his hands sliding up to cup your face, thumbs brushing away the sad lines from your cheek.
"This will be our secret for now until I can find a way out of the courtship with Tsireya. It'll be tricky. Her parents are Ronal and Tonowari, after all. But after the war, I'll break it off no matter what. My family won't need their alliance anymore and we might even head back to the Omatikaya. I won't let this end here." His words carried a vow's weight, golden eyes locking onto yours with unwavering determination, the faint scar on his jaw tightening as he clenched it.
You nodded slowly, feigning a swell of guilt that made your shoulders slump slightly, your neck arching as you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, the lilac depths shimmering with unshed emotion.
He leaned in then, capturing the pout on your lips with a gentle kiss, his mouth soft and reassuring, lingering just long enough to chase away the fabricated sorrow, his tongue sweeping in briefly to taste the salt of the sea on you.
The journey back unfolded in companionable silence, Payakan gliding toward the open reef where the cove met the broader sea.
You bid farewell to the tulkun with affectionate strokes along his scarred flank, your palm gliding over the rough, barnacle-dotted hide, feeling the deep rumble of his contented trill vibrate through your bones. Lo'ak whistled for his ilu, the creature surfacing with a splash, its sleek form undulating in the waves like a shadow come alive.
You mounted together, you in the back as before, his back pressing warm against your soft chest, one hand settling possessively on your thigh, fingers tracing the lithe curve of your quadriceps with absentminded affection while your arms wrapped around his waist, hands clasping at the taut ridges of his abdomen, feeling them contract under your touch with each breath.
The ride home was a blur of wind-whipped waves and shared warmth, the ilu's powerful strokes carrying you swiftly through the coral-strewn shallows, sunlight dancing on the water like scattered jewels. Lo'ak's grip remained steady, his thumb occasionally dipping into the sensitive hollow behind your knee, sending sparks up your leg while you leaned into him, your head resting against his shoulder, inhaling the musky scent of his skin mingled with the ocean's brine.
As the ilu beached near Awa'atlu's vibrant outskirts, the village's woven maruis rising like jewels against the horizon, Lo'ak dismounted first, offering you his hand with a boyish grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes. He walked you to your marui, the sand warm and yielding under your feet, his fingers interlaced with yours, swinging lightly between your bodies.
At the entrance, shadowed by hanging vines heavy with dew-kissed flowers, he paused, turning you to face him. His free hand cupped your cheek, tilting your face up, and he bestowed a soft kiss, lips brushing yours with lingering sweetness, a promise unspoken in the gentle pressure.
"See you soon, paskalin." He whispered against your mouth, voice husky with reluctance before pulling away, his tail giving yours a final playful flick as he retreated into the twilight.
Your smile, sweet and lingering as you watched him go, twisted into a smirk the moment his form vanished among the palms, sharp and triumphant, revealing the white flash of your teeth. Satisfaction coiled in your gut like a serpent, another thread woven into the tapestry of your designs.
Like father, like son.
Pushing aside the beaded curtain of your marui, the interior greeted you with the familiar scent of dried herbs and sea-salted weaves, the low glow of a single lantern casting flickering shadows across the woven mats and stacked baskets. But the space felt occupied, the air thicker, and you startled, your hand flying to your chest as your eyes adjusted to the dimness.
There, seated cross-legged on the edge of your sleeping platform, was Neteyam, his posture rigid, golden eyes fixed on the entrance with an unreadable expression. Jaw set, brows drawn low, the bioluminescent freckles across his nose and cheeks glowing faintly in the low light, accentuating the sharp planes of his face.
"What are you doing in my marui, Neteyam?" You asked, voice steady despite the surprise, stepping inside fully, the beads clattering softly behind you as you let them fall, your tail swaying with calculated nonchalance.
He didn't respond at first, simply holding your gaze in heavy silence, the weight of it pressing like the humid air before a storm. Then, with deliberate slowness, he rose to his feet, unfolding his tall frame until he loomed over you, his shadow stretching across the floor, broad shoulders blocking the lantern's light, making his teal skin seem etched in deeper hues. At eight-foot-something, he towered with the quiet authority of the eldest Sully son, muscles coiling subtly under his arms as he crossed them over his chest.
"I know everything." He stated, voice low and edged with steel, eyes boring into yours without flinching.
Your confused smile faded into a neutral line but inside, you smirked, the knowledge blooming like a hidden flower. You knew he'd been there, concealed in the underbrush during that raw confrontation with Jake, ears attuned to every whispered secret, every tear-streaked admission. The truth of your mating bond with his father had spilled out then, raw and irreversible, etching itself into Neteyam's memory.
Turning your back to him dismissively, you busied yourself with rearranging a nearby basket of healing salves, fingers deftly sorting the vials, the glass clinking softly as you feigned absorption in the task, your white hair swaying with the motion, exposing the graceful arch of your spine beneath your top.
"You and my father are mated?" Neteyam pressed, stepping closer, his voice cracking with restrained fury, the words hanging heavy. "While he has a wife and children here?"
You pivoted to face him then, movements fluid and unhurried, your lilac eyes meeting his stormy gold without evasion, hands clasping loosely in front of you.
"I didn't know he had a family when we mated." You replied evenly, voice carrying a note of quiet sorrow, your shoulders dipping as if the memory weighed on you, the golden markings on your grey arms catching the light in subtle shimmers.
"He said he chose you over us." Neteyam shot back, his tone sharpening, fists clenching at his sides, knuckles paling against his skin. "I heard it. All of it."
Drawing in a breath, you summoned a feigned disheartened expression, your features softening into vulnerability with eyes widening slightly, lips parting in a silent exhale, the curve of your neck tilting as you locked gazes with him, letting the lilac depths pool with manufactured heartbreak.
"I love your father." You confessed, voice trembling just enough to convey the depth, a single tear tracing a glistening path down your cheek, catching on the high plane of your cheekbone. "That's why we mated, made tsaheylu before Eywa. Now, knowing he hid a wife and kids from me... it hurts more than anything, Neteyam. I love Jake."
The admission hung poignant, your chest rising with a shaky inhale, the words designed to pierce.
Neteyam's eyes fractured at your expression, the raw pain mirrored in his own, his golden irises flickering with a storm of emotions. Betrayal and sorrow, an unwelcome ache as the reality of your love for his father and your sacred bond sank in. His broad chest heaved with a suppressed breath, the fine scars from past hunts standing out starkly on his arms and he stood frozen, the marui's confines amplifying the tension crackling between you.
He fell quiet, the silence stretching taut, before speaking again, voice measured but laced with underlying turmoil. "If he wasn't mated to another, would you be with him?"
"Yes." You answered without hesitation, the word firm, your gaze unwavering, chin lifting slightly in quiet defiance, the white strands of your hair framing your face like a halo of resolve.
His jaw tightened visibly, the muscle jumping along the defined edge, teeth grinding as he absorbed the blow, his tail lashing once behind him in agitation. "Well, he is."
"I know." You echoed softly, voice a whisper of acceptance, stepping closer, the space between you shrinking to mere inches, allowing the subtle floral scent of your skin to reach him.
"Will you go back to him?" Neteyam demanded, his posture tensing further, shoulders squaring as if bracing for impact, eyes searching yours for any flicker of deceit.
You offered no direct yes or no, instead murmuring with enigmatic calm. "I see him."
The phrase carried layers, ambiguous and loaded, your expression serene yet shadowed, hands unfolding to gesture vaguely toward the horizon visible through the marui's open side.
He tensed even more, body rigid as a bowstring, mind spiraling into chaos. Visions of what could have been if he'd crossed your path first, if he'd been the one to claim your heart in Zä'raiya's wilds, before Jake's shadow fell. Regret twisted in his gut, sharp and unbidden, his breath coming shorter, the rise and fall of his chest betraying the internal whirlwind.
Quiet enveloped him again, heavy and contemplative, before he broke it, voice dropping to a raw plea. "Let him be with my mother, with our family. I'll be quiet, won't tell anyone what you and my father did."
"Wha—" You began, feigning shock, eyes widening as you took a half-step back, hand pressing to your throat in surprise, the golden markings on your fingers glinting.
"In exchange… me." Neteyam continued, surging forward, closing the gap, his larger frame enveloping your space, one hand reaching out to grasp your arm gently but firmly, fingers encircling the slender limb with urgent warmth. "Whatever he did in Zä'raiya, I'll do better. I'll replace him. Just... don't go back to him."
His words spilled out fervent, golden eyes pleading, the vulnerability cracking his composed facade, breath ragged as he held your gaze, the marui's air thickening with the weight of his offer, his touch lingering, thumb stroking your skin in unconscious entreaty.
You tilted your head as you soak in the words he uttered.
Eddie Munson x female! reader, Steve Harrington x reader
Main Masterlist
Eddie Munson Masterlist
Steve Harrington Masterlist
Summary:
You’re in love with Eddie, Eddie’s in love with someone else. Somehow, he accidentally ends up in a relationship with you anyway.
Warnings:
(18+), SERIOUS angst, there is only pain here, hurt/no comfort or hurt/a little comfort, cheating, pregnancy, pregnancy complications, birth/c section, Eddie is really out of character and is a total dick, Chrissy is out of character and she also sucks (sorry guys), smut, fingering, protected p in v, virgin!eddie, virgin!reader, really awkward first time!
Word Count: 14.6k
A/N:
WOW okay this was totally unexpected to write. The length especially. This is just something depressing for the anti-Valentine’s Day mood. I’ve been nervous to post so I hope you enjoy! Big giant thanks to @punkrockmlchael (who made my beautiful banner again and also beta read), @the-witty-pen-name , @fizzing-imagines, @losingmygrasponreality, @writhingg , and @lesservillain for bouncing ideas and beta reading! I couldn’t have written this without you. Also ignore that there’s only dividers for half the fic, apparently you can only add 10 images to a post 🙃
dividers by @/strangergraphics
Best friends.
That’s what you and Eddie were, and always had been. Growing up as neighbors in Forest Hills, you met when you were 8 and Eddie was 10, after he moved in with his uncle.
To be honest with yourself, you’d had a crush on Eddie Munson since the first time you laid eyes on him. A silly childhood crush at first, he was so cute with his curls, short at the time, and it made your heart beat fast whenever you walked to the store together for snacks and he held your hand.
He would play you all kinds of music you’d never heard before, heavy stuff that was totally new to you. You weren’t sure about it at first, but you grew to love it. When he got into D&D, he would talk your ear off about his campaign plans for hours. You didn’t mind. You liked listening to him talk. When he started Hellfire, you were the first member to join. You didn’t know how to play an instrument, but you were Corroded Coffin’s biggest fan.
Eddie was everything to you. He was the first person you went to with any news, the only one you were excited to tell anything and everything to. He took you to see every new slasher movie, bought you your first dice set. He was the first thing you thought about in the morning and the last you thought of at night. At some point, it turned into more than a crush.
At some point, you fell in love.
Eddie was oblivious. He never dated in high school, but that didn’t seem to bother him. You didn’t, either, but it was mostly because you were so preoccupied with loving Eddie. You tried dropping hints, but he never seemed to figure it out. You were too scared to just get it over with and tell him outright.
So, you remained best friends. Just friends.
—
“Are you going to prom this year?” Wayne asked, sipping his beer as he sat relaxed in his recliner. Eddie nursed his own beer, feet up on the coffee table.
“Nah,” Eddie said. “You know that’s…not my thing.”
“You should go at least once,” Wayne said. “Might regret it.”
“I doubt it.”
“I had a great time at my senior prom,” Wayne reminisced, smiling at the memory. “You should give it a shot, Ed. Why don’t you take your little friend from next door?”
Eddie shook his head. “I don’t feel that way about her.”
“You can go as friends,” he pointed out. “I’m sure she’d like that. Girl adores you.”
“I’m pretty sure she has a crush on me,” Eddie winced, sipping his beer. “I don’t want to give her the wrong idea.”
“You don’t have to marry her, Ed. Just show her a good time. You two have been so close for so long, I’m sure she would understand.”
Eddie thought about it. He didn’t want to go to prom, like at all, but he wanted to make his uncle happy. And if he had to go with someone, it might as well be you, his only female friend, right?
So, he approached you at your locker the next day at school. “Hey.”
You turned to him, your face immediately lighting up with a huge smile. “Hey, Eds.”
“I, uh,” Eddie looked around awkwardly. “I just wanted to ask if you’d want to go to…prom with me?”
Your eyes went wide, but inside your heart was thundering out of your chest. Had Eddie really just asked you out? “Prom? Really? I thought you hated prom?”
“Yeah, well,” Eddie rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s my last senior year. Hopefully, at least. I figured I might as well give it a shot. We can pre game and sneak in some alcohol. And if it’s lame, we can ditch.”
You couldn’t wipe the huge smile off your face. You were almost a little concerned at how hard your heart was beating in that moment, like it would give out. “I’d love to go with you.”
Eddie gave you a soft smile. “Cool. I’ll pick you up at 6 that night.”
You watched as Eddie left, heading in the direction of his next class of the day. You waited until he was out of sight before you went sprinting in the direction of Robin’s locker.
You found her there, taking her books out. She startled when you ran up on her, placing her hand over her chest. “Jesus. What’s up with you?”
“Eddie just asked me to prom,” you blurted out. Robin’s jaw dropped open.
“No way!” She exclaimed, her look of shock turning to one of pure excitement. “This is huge. I always knew he was into you.”
You blushed. “I don’t know. I had given up hope of him liking me back. This was so out of the blue. I didn’t even think he wanted to go to prom at all.”
“Maybe he’s just better at hiding his feelings,” Robin offered. “Either way, we’re going dress shopping. Prom is only two weeks away!”
That weekend, Robin convinced her mom to drive the two of you to Indianapolis to go shopping in the big city. You were both giddy with excitement - Robin wasn’t much of a dress girl, and she didn’t have a date. The only person she wanted to take, she couldn’t ask. You were pretty sure Vickie was into girls and Robin in particular, but Robin was still too scared to make the move. You didn’t blame her. It wasn’t like typical rejection if things went wrong. So, instead, Robin was going with a group of girls from the marching band as friends.
Her mom took you to the huge mall, which was much more impressive than Starcourt. It was huge, with a ton of different stores. You made a stop at Camelot Music first, where Robin got a new Blondie tape and you grabbed the new The Smiths record and a Metallica Master of Puppets tape for Eddie, since his had recently broken.
Next was the formal wear store. You were both immediately overwhelmed when you walked in, the racks and racks of fancy dresses as far as the eye could see. All different colors, lengths, and styles. It was…a lot.
“Well…I guess let’s get started,” Robin said, her voice unsure.
You probably tried on 50 dresses each. You and Robin giggled as you tried on the dresses her mom picked for you, big floofy pink and blue monstrosities.
“You look like a marshmallow. Like a big pink marshmallow,” Robin had commented.
“Yeah?” You laughed, gesturing towards her powder blue gown. “Well, you look like a wedding cake.”
An hour and a half into dress shopping, you were both getting tired and totally over it. You had the last gown you’d picked out in your hand, and you told yourself if you hated this one, too, you’d just say fuck it and go to prom in your ripped jeans.
You pulled the dress over your head, smoothing it down your body. When you turned and looked into the mirror, you gasped. You actually looked…beautiful.
The dark purple dress hugged your curves, pushing your breasts up and making them look much sexier (and perkier) than they really were. The skirt fell above your knees, showing off your legs. You did a little twirl, the skirt swishing around your thighs. You loved it, it was by far the best one you’d tried on.
“Are you alive in there?” Robin called from outside the dressing room, and you smiled to yourself.
“I think we have a winner,” you called back.
“Ooh!” Robin said just as you moved the curtain and walked out. You saw Robin standing in a dark blue dress that looked beautiful on her, the skirt long but flattering.
“Oh my god,” she said. “You look stunning! Eddie is going to lose his mind.”
You blushed at the mention of Eddie. “You do too!” And she did. Finally, you had both found something.
After you left the dress shop with your bags in hand, you were both feeling much happier. You made a stop at Afterthoughts, where you found some earrings and a necklace to match your dress.
You couldn’t believe you were going to prom, and with Eddie. It was a dream come true.
You couldn’t wait.
—
Prom night, you were shaking as you got ready. The dress was just as beautiful as you remembered. The jewelry you had picked out matched your dress even better than you’d hoped.
Eddie picked you up right on time. He smiled at you awkwardly when he picked you up, holding a corsage in his hand. “Hey.”
You beamed at him. “Hi. Is…that for me?”
“Oh, yeah.” He looked at it like he had forgotten he had it. “You look pretty,” he told you as he slipped the corsage onto your wrist. You blushed as you pinned the boutonnière to his black suit jacket.
“You look handsome yourself,” you told him shyly.
Eddie drove the two of you to the school. The parking lot was packed with students’ cars and even a few rented limousines. Just as you were about to get out of the van, Eddie stopped you. He reached into his glove compartment and pulled out two black flasks, handing one to you.
“This should make this night a lot more fun, yeah?” He smirked. You smiled back, before making a face as you took a sip of the burning liquid. Eddie laughed, which made you start giggling, too.
You took a photo together at the booth near the gym doors, which Eddie wasn’t super excited about. The next thing he did was head for the food, piling a tiny plate full of appetizers. You followed him, grabbing a cup of punch to help wash down the liquor in your purse.
Eddie wouldn’t dance with you until after he’d finished his flask, claiming it was stupid and he wouldn’t be caught dead dancing at prom. But by the time he finished it, he had enough of a buzz that he didn’t care. You were tipsy, too, and absolutely elated when he stood and took your hand, leading you to the floor just as a slow song came on.
Eddie playfully groaned, rolling his eyes, but he pulled you close to his body anyway. Butterflies took flight in your stomach as he placed his hands on your hips and you wrapped yours around his neck. The two of you swayed together in time to the music. You could not stop smiling. You laid your head on Eddie’s chest, tuning out the music as you listened to his heartbeat.
After prom, you headed back to the van. You’d had the best night of your life, one you would never forget. Yeah, you were both a little bit intoxicated, but you were floating on the clouds for a whole different reason.
“D’you want to come back to my place?” Eddie asked as he started the engine. “We could drink a little more, smoke a joint. Wayne’s working.”
You wanted nothing more. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
At the trailer, Eddie rolled up a thick joint as you gathered the bottles of liquor and shot glasses from the cabinet. Eddie was back in normal clothes, and you’d changed into one of Eddie’s shirts and a pair of his sweatpants that were too big on you.
Eddie sparked up the joint as you poured each of you two shots of tequila. You clinked your glasses together before downing them both. Eddie took the first drag on the joint, his eyes falling closed as he inhaled the thick smoke. He looked gorgeous like this, curls still tamed and framing his face. The smoke escaped through his perfect lips, trailing up and throughout the bedroom. He handed the joint to you, and you gratefully took it, bringing it to your painted lips. Some of your lipstick had rubbed off on the shot glasses, leaving a stain.
As the night went on, the two of you got progressively more drunk and high. By the time it was 2am, the two of you were giggling messes, listening to music over the stereo and talking about the latest campaign. Suddenly, in your drunkenly stoned haze, you remembered the gift stashed in your purse.
“Oh!” You exclaimed, jumping up to grab your small bag. “I forgot. I got you something.”
“You got me something?” Eddie asked, confused, his words slightly slurring together.
You reached into the purse and pulled out the bag from Camelot. You hoped he loved it, because now that it was in your hands, you were suddenly nervous. You turned, smiling softly as you handed Eddie the bag. “I just saw it while I was at the mall with Robin and I thought of you.”
Eddie raised his eyebrows at you as he took the bag. He reached inside and pulled out the Metallica tape, a huge grin spreading across his face immediately. “Shit! You didn’t have to do this. But it’s fuckin’ awesome you did.”
You giggled, flopping back onto the bed next to him. You laid with your head on his pillow, smiling up at Eddie from where he sat next to you. “I’m glad you like it. I know yours broke. Probably because you play it all the time.”
Eddie poked you in the side, making you laugh harder. “Shut up, Freak. You love Master of Puppets just as much as I do.”
“That’s true,” you conceded. You looked up at him, his chocolate brown eyes gazing down at you. They sparkled, like his personality was shining its way through. He had a strong nose, kissable lips. God, you wanted to kiss those lips.
Eddie had never realized how pretty you were. He always just saw you as his long time best friend, the girl who definitely crushed on him but he never saw that way. He still didn’t think he had feelings for you, but…you were pretty.
“Have you ever kissed a guy before?” He asked, pushing a section of hair off your shoulder.
You blushed at the question. You didn’t have much experience, your love life was nonexistent. But you had kissed someone, at least. “Yeah. Tommy Hagan in 7th grade.”
Eddie’s eyes went wide. “Tommy Hagan? That dickhead? You never told me that.”
You shrugged, your cheeks red and hot. “It didn’t mean anything. I got invited to Heather Holloway’s birthday party and he was there. We all played spin the bottle. It only lasted two seconds and we never really talked again.” Eddie hummed. “What about you?”
It was Eddie’s turn to look sheepish. “Uh, yeah. A girl at school, Chrissy, in 8th grade. We didn’t date or anything.”
Now it was your turn to be shocked. “Chrissy Cunningham? You didn’t tell me that, either!” He had never mentioned her. You knew it was stupid, but you were struck with jealousy at his words.
“It was nothing,” he said, brushing it off.
“Look at us,” you laughed. “18 and almost 20, and we’re still a couple of virgins.”
Eddie looked down at you, something unfamiliar swimming behind his eyes. He had never wanted to kiss you before this moment, but now... “I mean, we can change that.”
Your heart stopped in your chest. “What do you mean?”
Eddie thought about it for a moment. This could be a point of no return, a step in a direction he didn’t want to take. But in his drunk and high mind…he wanted it. He wanted you.
He leaned forward slowly, so slowly. Your breath hitched in your throat right before his lips pressed against yours. They were just as soft as you always dreamed they were, and your mind went even more hazy from his kisses.
Neither of you were experienced at all and you were both pretty intoxicated, so the kiss was a little awkward and desperate. All tongues and teeth clashing together, hungry for one another. Eddie’s hand slid beneath your t-shirt - his Hellfire shirt - trailing up your smooth skin until he reached your breasts. You hadn’t worn a bra with your dress, so you were bare chested beneath the thin shirt. His calloused fingers delicately grazed your nipples, making you shiver. You’d never been touched there before, never felt anything like this. Being touched by Eddie was so much different than being touched by your own hand.
“I love your tits,” Eddie mumbled against your lips between kisses. You hummed, arching your back into his touch.
“Feels good, Ed,” you moaned quietly, body turning into pure electricity under his wandering touch. Your own hand tangled in the curls at the back of his neck, loving the way your bodies molded together, the feeling of his body finally pressed up against your own.
“Yeah?” He squeezed your breast one more time before his hand moved to your back, sliding down your body until he grabbed your ass, pulling you into him. You gasped, feeling how hard he was through his own sweatpants. “You feel how hard I am?”
“Yeah,” you whispered back. You moved your hand to his chest, sliding it down his body until you reached the tent in his pants. He groaned as you felt him, squeezing his cock through the material.
Eddie sat up, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it somewhere on the floor. You eyed his bare chest, the tattoos adorning his pale skin. You traced a finger over the design on the left side of his chest. God, he was so hot.
His hands slid up your shirt, pulling it up and off. His gaze dropped straight to your tits, he was practically drooling. He reached for the waistband of your sweatpants next, pulling them down your body slowly, leaving you in nothing but your panties. You were grateful you picked something pretty, red and lace.
“So sexy,” Eddie moaned. He leaned forward and kissed your stomach, which startled you a little. He trailed kisses up your body until he reached your breasts, where he ran his tongue over one of your nipples before wrapping his lips around it. You moaned as you arched into his touch, his mouth, whatever he would give you.
His hand slid down your body slowly, slowly, until it reached your panties. He slipped beneath them, fingers dipping between your folds. He could feel how insanely wet you were, and it only made his cock harder.
“So wet for me,” he said. “Bet you can’t wait for my cock.”
You whimpered as he pressed a finger against your entrance. Slowly, carefully he pushed it inside, stretching you for the first time. You gasped at the intrusion, but the pain faded quickly. Eddie slowly pumped his long finger in and out of your pussy, pressing against something deep inside that felt incredible as he curled his finger against it. He added a second finger shortly after, and the stretch was more intense, but from the feeling of the size of his cock in your hand, you knew it wouldn’t even be comparable.
Eddie fingered you a little longer, getting you nice and wet and ready for him, before he removed his hand and slipped your panties off. Now bare before him, he drank you in with his hungry eyes. His cock twitched in his pants.
You helped him push them down his hips, and he kicked them off onto the floor. He didn’t have boxers on underneath, and his dick was so much more impressive once fully revealed. It was big enough that it made you feel scared even through your mind haze.
“You can take it,” he assured you, his words still slightly slurred. “I know you can.”
He reached over you into the bedside table and pulled out an unopened box of condoms. “Finally get to use these,” he laughed, taking one out of the box and ripping it open. You watched as he slid the rubber over his hard cock, tip red and glistening. You wished you could have had a taste.
Eddie got in between your legs, kissing all over your neck before meeting your lips again. His tongue pressed into your mouth immediately, attempting to distract you from the pain where he was lining himself up and slowly beginning to push inside.
You whined as he began to fill you, inch by thick inch. When he was fully seated inside he pulled back and snapped his hips back into you, making you gasp. He set a quick pace, desperately rutting into you as he chased his pleasure, his drunken rhythm sloppy and uneven.
You held onto him tightly as he fucked into you, and he groaned into your neck where he had his face buried. “Feels so good,” he moaned, not exactly caring how you felt, only worried about his own quickly impending orgasm. It was his first time and he was not going to last.
“Eddie,” you whined, “you’re so big.”
He groaned at that. “Yeah, baby? You like it?”
“Mmhmm,” you moaned, and it did feel good, but he was also splitting you in half.
“Fuck,” he hissed, “I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fucking cum.”
He pumped into you just a couple more times before he was stilling, buried to the hilt inside you as he filled the condom. He moaned loudly, body trembling on top of you as he rode out his orgasm. You didn’t get to cum, but you were too drunk to care.
Eddie pulled out, removing the condom and tying it off before tossing it into the trash can. He collapsed onto the bed next to you, his naked body sweaty, chest heaving.
“That was…good,” you said, not knowing if it was or not. You were happy to have lost your virginity to Eddie, and the whole night had been a dream. But he hadn’t exactly cared about your pleasure. You waited for Eddie to reply, to say anything, but nothing came.
He was already snoring.
—
The unbearably bright light shining through the window around his curtains is the first thing Eddie experienced the next morning. It woke him up, but he only squeezed his eyes shut tighter, groaning as the light made his pounding headache infinitely worse. Fuck, he drank way too much last night.
He barely even remembered it. He remembered the prom, he remembered drinking a lot, doing shots, and smoking a joint. He remembered you, but his memory was hazy. How did you get home anyway? He didn’t remember driving you home after prom.
Eddie stretched, his muscles stiff. He was naked beneath his blanket, which wasn’t entirely unusual. He probably just didn’t feel like changing once he got his suit off.
Eventually he figured he should get out of bed. He rolled over and stood with another old man groan. Fuck, he had to cut back on the drinking, because he definitely felt a lot older than 19 right now.
He pulled on some boxers and a pair of sweatpants he found on the floor, remaining shirtless. Wayne would be passed out in his own bedroom after a long night of work at the plant. But Eddie was starving, and he needed something for that headache.
When he stepped out of the room, the first thing he noticed was the smell. Something delicious was wafting from the kitchen, the smell of bacon overpowering some other food scents. That was weird. Wayne didn’t cook breakfast, not the morning after a work night. He walked down the hall cautiously, brows furrowed as he neared the end of the hallway. He turned the corner, and froze.
You were there in the kitchen, expertly flipping a pancake in a pan. A plate sat on the counter next to you filled with bacon, and another pan on the next burner was cooking scrambled eggs. Oh, and you were dressed in nothing but Eddie’s oversized t-shirt and your underwear.
Oh shit, Eddie thought. What the fuck did I do?
The floor creaked as he stepped into the kitchen, and you turned around, a smile spreading across your lips at the sight of him. “Hey, sleepyhead. I made us some breakfast. Thought you could use something on your stomach.”
Eddie didn’t know what to say or do. Did he sleep with you? Oh god. He was going to be sick. “Uh, good morning. You, uh, didn’t have to do all this.”
He watched as you plated the finished pancakes and eggs. “I thought we could both use a big breakfast after last night,” you said, giving him a smirk. Oh, shit. He did sleep with you last night. He drunkenly lost his virginity after prom, to you.
Fuck. He was a fucking idiot.
You started making plates for the both of you. “I set out a water bottle and some Tylenol for you over there,” you said, nodding to the corner of the counter. Eddie took the medicine immediately, desperate for some relief from his unbearable headache. Now he wasn’t sure what was making it worse, the hangover or the knowledge of what he’d done.
He sat down across from you at the small table. He didn’t know what to say. Your friendship would never be the same after this. He knew you liked him, he didn’t like you, then he slept with you. Now he had to crush your heart. He really felt like he was going to be sick.
“Did you sleep okay?” You finally asked as the two of you ate, breaking the silence.
“Huh?” Eddie snapped back to reality. “Oh. Yeah.”
You smiled softly at him. You figured he was just still cloudy from the weed. “I had a good time last night.”
“Yeah…” Eddie said. “Me too.”
Your face lit up at that, and he could have slapped himself. He didn’t mean that. He didn’t even remember the sex. He was not doing a good job of not leading you on. “Listen,” he said, “about that-“
“It was really good,” you said. Eddie’s watched as your cheeks turned red and you looked down at your plate. “Sorry. I just meant…I enjoyed it. Being with you.”
Eddie had suspected, known even, that you had a crush on him, but this was the first time you’d ever admitted it out loud. Eddie was really going to have to stomp on your heart to put an end to those thoughts, and it was all his fault. He never should have brought you home after prom. “Look, I-“
“I didn’t think you liked me back,” you continued, rambling nervously, excitedly. “I…to be honest with you I’ve had a crush on you for years, but I was always too scared to tell you. But you never seemed like you were into me…until last night.” You giggled, covering your mouth. “I can’t believe we’re together now.”
Together?
Oh, fuck. He couldn’t do this. He could not do this. He couldn’t crush your spirit, wipe that elated smile off your face. He’d never seen you look so happy. He felt like the biggest asshole.
“Oh, yeah,” he said instead. “Um, me either.”
“I can’t wait to tell Robin,” you continued. “She’s going to freak.”
—
Eddie couldn’t believe he had gotten himself into this situation.
Sure, you were his best friend so he liked your personality, and it’s not like you weren’t cute, but he just didn’t have feelings for you in the way you did for him. But now he had slept with you and you thought he liked you back. He had somehow, some way, become your actual boyfriend.
“I thought you didn’t like her like that?” Gareth asked the next school day after prom at lunch. You were sitting with Robin today. You often bounced between the marching band table and the Hellfire table.
“I don’t,” Eddie said simply.
Gareth, Jeff, and Grant looked at him like he was crazy. “Then how…why…?”
Eddie slammed his hand on the table. “Stop grilling me, okay?”
“Someone’s cranky,” Jeff muttered, turning back to his lunch tray in front of him.
“Yeah, you’re in a pretty shitty mood to be the only one of us to lose his virginity and get a girlfriend,” Grant commented. Gareth and Jeff agreed, nodding along.
“Yeah, well,” Eddie muttered. “Would be nice if it was with someone I’m actually into.”
“Harsh,” Gareth tsked. “You should be honest with her. You’re just leading her on.”
“I can’t.” Eddie buried his face in his hands, exasperated and stressed. “It’s gone too far. She thinks I’m her boyfriend. She thinks I like her back. I can’t crush her like that.”
The other three boys exchanged a look. “So…you’re just gonna marry her?” Grant asked.
Eddie froze. That is where this would eventually lead if he didn’t turn it around. But he was scared. He couldn’t bring himself to burst your bubble. “I’ll figure something out.”
As lunch was ending, Eddie jolted when you came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Hey, babe,” you giggled. “How was lunch?”
“Good,” Eddie said, giving each Hellfire boy a look that said don’t say or do a damn thing.
“You guys are so cute,” Robin said, holding her hands over her chest as she tilted her head to the side with a smile. “I’m so happy you’re finally together.”
Eddie felt sick. Just like he had all weekend, since the morning after prom. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m a lucky guy.”
Your whole face lit up with a smile. “I was thinking maybe we could hang out after school. Do our homework and work on the Curse of Vecna.”
Eddie groaned internally. This was such a disaster. “Sure.”
That day after school Eddie drove you back to his place. He reluctantly did his homework with you, mostly copying your answers rather than actually learning anything. Then the two of you laid on his bed and made out.
Hey, if he was going to be stuck in this relationship with someone he didn’t actually care for, the least he could do was take advantage of the benefits.
—
You spent four years with Eddie before you started noticing something was off.
It was the scent you started noticing on his clothes at first, like flowers and vanilla. You lifted his shirt from the laundry, the unexpected smell hitting you. You didn’t own anything that smelled like this, and Eddie certainly didn’t. You knew the smell of his cheap cologne better than anything, the amount of times you’d laid your head on his chest and smelled that distinctly Eddie scent. Something was wrong.
When you confronted him about it, he brushed it off. “It’s this new girl at work. Her perfume is so strong, everyone smells like it.”
You accepted the answer for the time being. But then there were other things you began to notice. A scrunchie that definitely didn’t belong to you on the floor of the passenger side of his van. A condom wrapper in the bathroom trash after you’d been out of town for the weekend. And finally, a pair of pink panties stuffed into the back pocket of his jeans that were so clearly not yours it was nearly comical if it hadn’t made you want to die.
When you confronted him about it the next time, it was with tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat. “Eddie,” you said, your voice cracking as you tossed the panties onto the floor in front of where he sat on the couch. “What are these?”
Eddie knew he had been caught. There was no getting out of it this time. You didn’t own any underwear like that, and it was the wrong size. How could he have been so stupid to have kept the panties? “I…”
“Really?” You sobbed. “You have nothing to say?”
“I’m not sure what you want me to say.” Eddie looked down at his hands. “Yeah, I’ve been sleeping with someone else.”
Even though you already knew his words were true, they still hit you right in the heart. You could feel it cracking, could feel the fault lines forming, the blood and life seeping out of it. “With who?” You asked, barely audible. You weren’t sure if you wanted the answer, but you needed it.
“That’s not important-“
“It is important,” you said. “It’s important to me.”
Eddie didn’t respond at first. He didn’t want to respond. “Chrissy Cunningham,” he answered reluctantly at last. “But don’t pull her into this, she doesn’t deserve to be-“
“Chrissy Cunningham?” You scoffed. “Eddie, we’ve been together for four years. Chrissy knows we’re together. So she was just fine sleeping with a guy she knew was taken?” You laughed humorlessly through the tears. “Wow. You guys are perfect for each other, then.”
Eddie shook his head. “Don’t do that, man, she-“
“‘Man’?” You couldn’t believe the conversation you were having. “Wow, I sure got demoted from baby fast, huh?”
He rubbed his hands over his face. “Please. I don’t wanna do this. I don’t feel like doing this.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have cheated!” You yelled back. “Why would you do this? How could you do this to me? I thought you loved me.”
Eddie mumbled something under his breath, something you couldn’t catch.
“What?” You asked. “I can’t hear you. Just fucking tell me. Why would you do this to me?”
When Eddie looked up at you, his eyes were full of anger, flames flickering behind his normally sweet doe eyes. The ones you had gazed into, taken comfort in so many times. When he opened his mouth, nothing but poison seeped out.
“Because I never loved you!” Eddie yelled, hands running through his hair to the point he was practically pulling it out. You had never seen him so upset. “Fuck! I went out with you because we were friends and I felt bad, and by the time we’d been together for months it was too late. I never liked you back like that. That’s the truth, finally.”
His words hit you like a shot to the chest. You stared at him with your lips parted, staggering gasps being dragged into your lungs. You shook uncontrollably as if it were suddenly freezing. But the tears didn’t yet fall. You felt like you might be in shock. “How…”
“How did I pretend to be in love with you?” He scoffed. “I didn’t do a very good job of it, but it doesn’t seem like you ever noticed. You were so blinded by who you wanted me to be, you couldn’t see what was right in front of you. Hey, as long as I came home and fucked you before passing out next to you, you just took it.” He laughed, a cruel, sinister laugh. “You just let me treat you like shit. Like you have no respect for yourself, or were just that obsessed with me.”
You didn’t even know who this was in front of you right now. This person who looked like Eddie, sounded like Eddie, but was spewing such horrible, hurtful words that Eddie never would. You didn’t recognize him at all. You wanted to blame his words on his heightened emotions, but you could tell everything he said was true. Especially with the cheating to back it up.
That’s not how you treated someone you cared about.
“So you just led me on for four years instead of telling me?” You asked. There was no fight behind your voice like there was in his. Only hurt and defeat. “Eddie…even before all this, you were my best friend. How could you do this to me?”
He didn’t have an answer for that. Because he was a selfish idiot coward? That was the truth. “Look, me and Chrissy- it just happened. It wasn’t supposed to, but it did. She came in to the Hideout, we got to talking-“
“And you fucked her?” You finished for him.
He just looked at you. “Yeah.”
The truth was, Eddie felt bad. He knew he had fucked up astronomically bad. He had led you on, used your body, betrayed you. Wasted four years of your life. He knew you thought he was the one, he knew you were waiting for a proposal that was never going to come. It was his fault things had gotten this far.
Maybe he thought he could fake it ‘til he made it. Maybe he thought if he pretended to be into you, eventually he would be. But that never happened.
And now you were crying, hard. His chest ached for some reason, even though he had no right to hurt for what he had done to you. He deserved to feel like shit.
He wasn’t prepared for the next words that came out of your mouth.
“I’m pregnant, Eddie,” you said, eyes squeezed shut as if that would stop the torrent of tears currently streaming down your face. There was no response. You had to force yourself to open your eyes and look, wondering if he was even still there.
He was. He stared at you, brown eyes wide, mouth hanging slightly open. “You’re- no.”
“I am,” you said, voice hoarse from crying. “I…”
Eddie shook his head. “No. No, no, no. This is not happening. It’s not fucking happening.”
You only cried harder. The pregnancy hormones had nothing to do with this; this was pure devastation, pure heartbreak. Your heart felt like it had crumbled in your chest and there was nothing left to repair even if you could.
“Let me see the test,” he said, holding a hand out.
“Why would I lie?” You asked, voice weak. You were so emotionally worn out, you felt like you could sleep for weeks. Months. Years. You wanted to.
“Because you want me to stay with you?” He scoffed. “Look, I’m not saying you’re lying, but I want to see to be sure.”
You just stared at him. Finally, you said “Fine,” going into your shared bedroom and coming out with a piece of paper with your office visit report. “I went to the doctor. Here.”
Eddie took the paper from your hands, examining it carefully. Sure enough, under “Reason for Visit/Diagnosis”, it said “Pregnancy - 8 weeks”.
“Christ,” Eddie said. He rubbed his hands over his face, like he was trying to erase the information from his brain. He was panicked. He couldn’t be a dad. Not right now, maybe not ever. He didn’t even know if he wanted kids. And with you? His soon to be ex girlfriend who he had treated like shit and didn’t love? “I mean fuck, man. What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know,” you said. Your voice was small, like all the fight had left you.
Eddie felt like he had ruined his life. For one thing, you were both still so young. That was without even mentioning the mess of a ‘relationship’ he had gotten himself involved in, the fact that it would never work out even if he wanted it to because he didn’t have feelings for you, and now he was standing here crushing his pregnant girlfriend’s heart. Like an asshole.
He was an asshole, and he knew it.
“Look,” he said finally. “If there’s really a kid-“
“There is.”
Eddie continued. “I’m not gonna abandon it. I’ll…be here. I’ll pay child support, I want to share custody, I want to be involved.”
You nodded. At least there was that, you supposed. As heart broken as you were, as much as you felt like going to sleep and never waking up again, you couldn’t bear the thought of Eddie leaving both of you. This baby deserved better.
“Look, I…I need some time. I’m gonna go stay with Wayne for a little while. Until I can get my own place.” Eddie looked at you with pity now, the news of the pregnancy dousing the fire of his earlier cruelty. “You can keep the apartment. We’ve got the guest room for the baby, unless you decide to move out.”
You just nodded again. “Okay, Eddie.”
The two of you looked at each other. This wasn’t just the end of your apparent farce of a relationship, but also of your nearly lifelong friendship. Things between you and Eddie would never be the same again. He had taken your heart you gave to him and stomped on it, spit on it.
That was the thing you couldn’t get past. He hadn’t just rejected you, he had destroyed you. The cheating, the lying. Playing you like a fucking game. Like you meant nothing not just to him, but at all. You didn’t know how you’d ever learn to trust again, or if you even wanted to. Eddie slept on the couch that night, too late at night to drive to Wayne’s.
When you woke up the next morning, he was gone.
—
Your pregnancy was difficult. You had severe morning sickness in the beginning - hyperemesis gravidarum, your doctor called it. You struggled to keep any food down, and ended up hospitalized for fluids multiple times. Your doctor was concerned and considered you a high risk pregnancy. You went from monthly doctor visits to weekly. You felt pretty sure your emotional devastation wasn’t helping your physical health whatsoever.
Eddie was helpful, at least. He called you every couple of days to see how you were doing and if you needed anything. He remembered your appointment days and called to ask what the doctor said. He shopped for your groceries for you and dropped them off at the house. It would have felt nice, if you didn’t know he was only doing it for the baby and not you, and if you didn’t know he was still sleeping with Chrissy.
You went through most of the pregnancy alone. At 16 weeks, you noticed a bump for the first time, standing in front of your full length mirror as you got ready for work. It took you by surprise, this little baby bump that seemed to have popped up overnight. You ran your hand over the skin there, surprised by how firm it felt. There was really a little baby in there.
You had an ultrasound that afternoon. You were thrilled to see the baby, one of the only things you looked forward to anymore. The technician showed you your baby, thriving and wiggling around in there. It made your heart swell. She measured the heartbeat and played it out loud, the little whoosh whoosh whoosh comforting.
Eddie came to the apartment that evening to bring you the baby swing he had bought. You were in the kitchen cooking yourself chicken alfredo for dinner, wearing a thin tank top and your short sleep shorts. Eddie let himself in, since he still had a key in case of emergencies. You weren’t surprised to hear him coming in since he’d told you he’d be over.
You heard his footsteps heading into the kitchen, then - “Woah.”
You turned from where you’d been stirring the sauce, raising an eyebrow at him. “What?”
He gestured towards your stomach. “You, uh…your…”
You laughed lightly. “The bump? Yeah, that’s new.”
Eddie walked over towards you, leaning against the counter next to the stove. He didn’t know how to feel about it. It was strange to see, and it made him feel weird in his chest. Something he’d never felt before. “It’s…it’s cute. You look cute.”
You laughed again. “I’m about to get a lot bigger.”
The two of you stood in silence for a minute. Then, finally, Eddie worked up the courage to ask - “Can I…can I feel?”
You were surprised by the question. Sure, Eddie had been pretty devoted to this baby during the pregnancy, but it still caught you off guard. “Oh. Sure.”
You turned and he walked up to you cautiously. He raised his hands, slowly moving them towards you as he looked up at you for confirmation it was still okay. Finally he placed his hands on your belly, feeling the firm bump beneath his hands. It was real. He knew it was real, but now it was real.
“Wow,” he said after a minute. “That’s…wow.” He gently rubbed the bump, in shock that that was his child beneath his hand.
“I got an ultrasound today,” you said. “Want to see?”
“Of course,” he answered immediately. He watched as you headed into the living room, already developing the slightest little waddle. He couldn’t help but smile.
You pulled the printed photos from your purse, bringing them over. Eddie gently took them from your hands. “Holy shit!” He said, laughing as he closely examined the photos. “It really looks like a little baby now instead of a blob.”
“Yeah,” you agreed with a smile. “They said we’d find out if it’s a boy or a girl at the next one. At 20 weeks.”
Eddie’s eyes darted up to you. “Really? Can I…go?”
You raised your eyebrows. “Really? You want to come with me to the appointment?”
“Yeah, of course. I want to know what we’re having. I want to be there myself.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking about it. “How will Chrissy feel about that?”
Eddie’s expression hardened for the first time since he’d come over. “I can do whatever I want. And we’re not talking about her right now.”
You rolled your eyes, heading back into the kitchen to tend to your dinner. “I guess you can come, Eddie. It’s your baby too. But don’t bring her.”
“I’m not,” he assured you. You thought he’d have to be a fucking idiot to bring her, anyway. “I just want to be there.”
You felt like you couldn’t take that from him. If he wanted to be an involved father, he could. You encouraged that, in fact. This baby didn’t deserve to be born into the mess that was your relationship, or what used to be your relationship. Your issues with Eddie needed to be put aside for the sake of your child.
So, four weeks later, you waddled your 20 week pregnant self down the stairs of your apartment complex and into Eddie’s van where he sat idling, waiting to pick you up. He helped you climb in, and you waved him off when he tried to buckle you up. “I’ve got it, Eddie. I’m not totally helpless.”
“I know,” he said, “I just want to help.”
You rode to the doctor’s office without speaking, the only sounds being the heavy music playing over the stereo. You couldn’t stand it. Since the break up, you couldn’t listen to Eddie’s music anymore. Too many memories, too many associations.
When he pulled up at the office, he hopped out quickly to run around and offer you a hand as you carefully climbed down. The bump was significantly bigger already, it was in the way and threw off your center of balance. And Eddie was not about to let you fall and hurt yourself and the baby.
You had grown to know the staff at the office since you were there so often. They greeted you by name the second you walked in, looking pleased to see you. In the exam room, Eddie sat in the visitor’s chair, looking as awkward as he felt.
When the tech walked in, she barely managed to contain the surprise on her face to see Eddie with you. You had been to every appointment alone, and they knew you weren’t together with the father. But she quickly plastered a smile to her face, walking over to you.
“Are you excited?” She asked you. “It’s a big day!”
“So excited,” you giggled. “I’m ready to know.”
You laid back and lifted your shirt up and she squirted the cold gel onto your belly, your least favorite part. She placed the wand on your stomach and began moving it around. There was a screen only she could see, and a bigger screen facing you and Eddie that showed the baby.
The little wiggling baby popped up on the screen, moving all around. You smiled, relieved to see the little guy or girl was doing well. You always worried between ultrasounds that something would happen.
The two of you watched as the tech examined and measured the various body parts, making notes in your chart as she performed the exam. Then, finally, it was time.
“Okay,” she said. “Everything looks great! Do you want to know what you’re having?”
“Yes,” you and Eddie answered immediately at the same exact time. You glanced at each other, laughing lightly.
You were nervous. You weren’t sure why. You really didn’t have a preference for the baby’s sex, but this was a huge deal. This made it real, really real. The baby was about to go from “the baby” to your son or daughter. They would have a name, you would be able to shop more. This was a huge moment, and your heart thumped hard in your chest.
She moved the wand a little, looking where she needed to look. She smiled - “It’s a healthy baby girl.”
You choked out a light sob, hands moving up to cover your mouth. You couldn’t believe it. A baby girl, a daughter. Your daughter. Thoughts flashed through your mind of pink little dresses, playing dolls, dance recitals and late night dance parties. Or maybe she would be more of a tomboy, playing sports and getting dirty. You would love her no matter who she turned out to be.
Eddie stared at the screen in awe. A daughter. He was having a daughter. He couldn’t believe it. He didn’t have a preference for the gender either, but hearing it was a girl, it just felt right. Like this was the child he was meant to have, this was the perfect outcome. His body overflowed with the love he felt for this tiny person already. He nearly reached over and grabbed your hand, but thought better of it. It wasn’t his hand to hold anymore.
You left the appointment in high spirits with a stack of ultrasound photos in your hand. You kept looking them over, amazed at how much the baby looked like a baby. Just as you were about to get back in the van, you felt something move that made you gasp and nearly drop your bag.
“What??” Eddie asked, immediately by your side. “Are you okay? Is it the baby?”
You looked up at him wide eyed. “I…” You were about to say something else when you felt the movement again. You quickly grabbed Eddie’s hand and placed it on your stomach, right where you felt it.
He looked at you strangely, but kept his hand there. Then, a second later - another kick, right where Eddie’s hand lay.
“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, jerking his hand back out of instinct before putting it back. “Did she just kick?”
“I think so,” you said, an incredulous giggle in your voice.
“She’s strong,” Eddie commented with a smile. He gently rubbed his hand over the bump. “My girl. Gonna be a soccer player or something. Or just kick some serious ass.”
You laughed, your hand resting next to Eddie’s. “This has been the best day I’ve had in months.”
Eddie felt a pang of guilt at that. He knew he was the reason for your sadness, for your pain. And now here you were, giving him the greatest gift he could dream of, even if it’s one he didn’t expect. He couldn’t wait for this baby to be here.
Robin threw you a baby shower when you were 33 weeks pregnant. You were huge and uncomfortable, and still mentally a disaster. But Robin had put in so much work you were at least going to make an attempt to enjoy yourself.
She had taken you shopping for a dress, and you’d landed on a long, light pink one with a hem right beneath your breasts, the rest of the dress draped over your belly. It made you feel pretty, even if gigantic.
When you and Robin walked in, the party was already underway, your friends, family, and acquaintances mingling around, eating from the buffet table. There was a table surrounded and piled high with gifts, a rocking chair with a bow on it sitting next to it.
“Oh my god, Robs,” you said, tears springing to your eyes. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“Of course I did,” she said, nudging your arm. “You deserve it, babes. You and her both.” She placed a hand over your belly, making you smile. “You’ve been put through hell this pregnancy, the least I can do is give you a good party.”
Robin led you over to the buffet table, where Steve Harrington was standing. You furrowed your brows at your best friend as you walked, and she gave you a sheepish smile and shrug.
“He’s different now,” she said. You couldn’t believe your ears. “He’s not King Steve anymore. And he helped me out a ton with this party. He’s kind of a dingus, but he’s cool.”
Steve gave you a kind smile as you approached. “Hey,” he said once you’d both reached him, standing up straight. “Congratulations. You look beautiful.”
You blushed, because you certainly didn’t expect him to say that. “I’m huge,” you said.
Steve chuckled. “Well, you’re growing a whole human. Don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s hard work.”
You were completely shocked that Steve was being so nice to you. He had never been mean to you, but he definitely saw you and Eddie as Freaks in high school, and never gave you or Robin the time of day. He really did seem different.
“Come on,” Robin said, pulling gently on your arm. “Let’s get you and that baby something to eat. It’s gonna be a great party.”
And it was a good party. You were having a good time talking with your guests, everyone wanting to feel the baby and asking you questions. The food was good, too, you thought as you filled your third plate in 30 minutes. You were having a good time.
That is, until the door opened and two guests walked in late.
Eddie walked in, looking awkward, a gift bag in hand. He knew a good number of the people in attendance hated him, and for good reason. The fact that Eddie showed up to your party wasn’t the bad part. You were on okay terms. It was the fact that he walked in, hand in hand with Chrissy Cunningham.
Your heart stopped in your chest. You hated that you still weren’t over Eddie, but it was the truth. You felt like you would throw up at the sight.
“Oh, fuck no,” Robin muttered under her breath from next to you, before she stood tall and started walking over to them with purpose.
“Robs, wait!” You called, following after her, but Robin’s long strides were much faster than your 8 month pregnant waddle. Robin was already there when you reached the three, her finger pointed in Eddie’s face.
“And what do you think gives you the right to come marching into her party with your little girlfriend?” She was yelling, fury in her eyes like you’d never seen. “What the fuck is wrong with you??”
“Robin-“ you started, but she wasn’t even hearing you.
“You are the scum of the fucking earth,” she said to Eddie. “You don’t belong here. You don’t belong outside enjoying the day. You belong in a cave.”
Eddie was looking at her with an irritated expression on his face. Chrissy stood next to him, her big eyes wide as she held onto his arm. It made you feel so much worse.
“This is my daughter’s baby shower,” he said. “I have a right to be here.”
“No, this is her shower.” Robin gestured towards where you stood slightly behind her without even turning around. “This is for her. She has been through hell, and it’s entirely your fault. The only thing you did besides ruin her life is put the damn baby in her. Good job, Eddie!”
Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Down, guard dog, this has nothing to do with you. Get out of my face. I’m here to celebrate my daughter. Not yours.”
“And you had to bring your skank with you?”
Both you and Chrissy gasped. You had never heard her speak that way before. Eddie’s eyes darkened. “Don’t talk about her like that. She has nothing to do with this.”
“She slept with you multiple times while knowing you were in a relationship. So yeah, she’s a skank, and you’re a slut too. I guess you guys are made for each other.”
“Babe, why don’t we just go-“ Chrissy said softly.
“Babe,” Robin mocked. “How cute.”
“I’m not leaving,” Eddie said, looking from Chrissy to Robin, and finally to you. “I deserve to be here. So get over yourself.”
“I think you should leave, Eddie.”
You turned as you all looked behind you, where Steve had walked up. His expression was serious, and Eddie narrowed his eyes at him.
“This doesn’t concern you, Harrington.”
“Well, it kind of does,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “These are my friends. I helped organize the party. No one would have cared if you wanted to be here, but you had to go and bring your girlfriend to rub in her face?”
Eddie was taken aback. He couldn’t believe Steve Harrington was here and had the nerve to talk to him and his girlfriend this way. He was about to say something rude back when you spoke up.
“It’s okay,” you said, your voice timid. “They can stay.”
Steve and Robin looked at you with concern etched on both of their faces. “Are you sure?” Steve asked quietly. “Robin told me your pregnancy has been complicated. You don’t need any extra stress.”
“It’s okay,” you repeated. You weren’t entirely sure if you were really okay with it, but you didn’t want drama at your baby shower. At least, not any more drama than what had already been caused.
Steve looked at you, giving you any chance to change your mind, but you didn’t say anything else. Steve looked at Eddie and Chrissy. “She says you can stay, you can stay.”
The rest of the party was admittedly very awkward. Eddie kind of felt like shit - he knew he shouldn’t have brought Chrissy here. It was the wrong move. He thought maybe it would be alright, but the second he walked in the door he knew what a mistake it had been.
When it was time for gifts, you felt a little uncomfortable. Even as a child you had never enjoyed the whole “opening gifts in front of the whole guest list” part of parties, but you knew your older relatives would find it rude if you didn’t.
You got a lot of lovely gifts - lots of girly clothes and tiny dresses, bottles, burp cloths, a baby monitor, baby soap and towels, health stuff, toys, all kinds of things. You even got some bigger items, like a high chair, a car seat, and a stroller. You were so grateful you teared up multiple times. As a single mom, you had been worried sick about how you’d afford a lot of this stuff.
When you opened Eddie’s gift, it was just a piece of paper inside the bag. You were confused, until you took the paper out and saw the photo of the crib you had been eyeing on it, and a note that he had ordered it for you. Cue the waterworks.
Chrissy’s gift was probably the ugliest baby clothes you’d ever seen in size 24m and a toy she wouldn’t be able to play with for years. You wanted to throw the gift back in her face. She did that shit on purpose.
The rest of the party went well. You managed to avoid Chrissy, or maybe she was avoiding you. You gave each of your friends and family hugs as they left when the party was over, thanking them for coming and for their gifts.
Eddie gave you a nod as he and Chrissy left. He was always so much more pleasant when he wasn’t with her. You could always tell when she was in his ear, too, because he would start stupid arguments and stress you out. You were tired of Chrissy in your business. You never wanted to see her for the rest of your life.
But that was Eddie’s girlfriend, the girl he actually liked, and Eddie was this baby’s father. So you supposed you’d have to live with her.
At 33 weeks, days after the shower, you noticed horrible swelling in your hands and feet. More than the normal pregnancy swelling. You brought it up at your doctor’s appointment, and she was immediately concerned.
Your blood pressure was through the roof. You were diagnosed with pre eclampsia and told to head straight to the hospital to be admitted.
You cried on the way to the car. This whole pregnancy had been hell, and as excited as you were to meet the baby, you were miserable. And it wasn’t time for her to come yet. You were terrified.
You drove around the corner to the hospital’s main entrance, walking inside and giving the receptionist the paper from your doctor. They had you upstairs and set up in bed in no time, hooked up to monitors and put on strict bed rest.
The first thing you did once you were settled was grab the bedside phone. You dialed Robin’s number first, filling her in through tears. She promised to be over right after work with movies to watch, wanting to make you as comfortable as possible while you had to be in the hospital.
Next, you called Eddie.
“Hello?” He answered, a laugh in his voice, and you could hear Chrissy giggling in the background. It made you feel infinitely worse.
“Eddie. It’s me.” It was obvious in your voice that you’d been crying.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, suddenly serious. “Is it the baby? Is she coming? It’s too early!”
You sniffled. “Not yet. But I have pre eclampsia. They hospitalized me and put me on bed rest until the baby is born.”
“Shit,” Eddie hissed. “Do you, uh…do you need me?”
“Can you run by the apartment and grab my bag I packed?” You asked. “Maybe throw some extra stuff in there since I’m going to be here for a while?”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
The next week in the hospital was a long one. You were bored to death, even with Robin and Steve coming by every day after work and on their days off. They would bring different movies from Family Video every day, and they had bought you a collection of board games to play together.
At 34 weeks, things took a turn for the worse.
Your water broke and labor began far too early. You were in a panic. Robin had been visiting at the time, and next thing you knew, doctors and nurses were rushing in, checking your vitals and fussing over you. The contractions started immediately, coming strong and fast.
“Call Eddie!” You called to a shocked Robin, who froze for only a few seconds before dashing for the phone.
By the time Eddie sprinted through the door, breathless and mercilessly alone, things were well underway. Labor had set in fast, and the baby’s vitals were dropping. They had to get her out as soon as possible.
“We’re going to be taking you back for a C section, okay?” The doctor told you kindly, but you could hear the seriousness of the situation in his tone. “We need to get this baby out right now.”
You had never been more terrified in your life. You could not lose this baby. You didn’t care much about your own well-being, but losing this baby would kill you.
“Can I come?” Eddie asked, his voice shaking. He was equally terrified. This baby, his daughter, meant the world to him already and she wasn’t even here yet. He needed both of you to be okay.
“Yes, you’ll just have to change into a pair of scrubs,” the doctor said. “One of the nurses will bring you some then bring you to the OR. We just need to get her in there and prepped immediately.”
Eddie watched as they wheeled you from the room quickly, disappearing down the hall with an urgency that made him sick to his stomach. Just as he’d been told, a nurse walked up with a pair of surgical scrubs and a hair cap, snapping him out of his internal panic.
He went into the bathroom and changed into the scrubs, pulling his hair up into a bun and putting the cap on. He slipped the shoe covers on last. He felt like he looked ridiculous, but he really didn’t have time to think about that right now.
Inside the operating room, you laid on a table with your arms strapped down out to the side. You also wore a cap over your hair, and a large drape curtained off everything below your chest.
“Hey,” you said, sounding nice and calm and a little out of it. “You came.”
“Of course I came,” Eddie said. He stood next to you as the doctor got to work. He did not want to think about what was going on behind that curtain.
It wasn’t long before the doctor said “Here she is!” and the next thing Eddie knew, he heard a shrill cry. It made his heart stutter in his chest, he lost his breath. Moments later one of the nurses came around with the tiniest baby Eddie had ever seen, wrapped in a hospital blanket. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His child.
You gazed at the tiny bundle in the nurse’s arms. You were so drugged up you couldn’t really comprehend the moment, but you knew that tiny bundle was your daughter. Here at last. And alive, healthy. Pink skin and a head full of brown hair.
“Would you like to hold her?” The nurse asked as the doctor went to work on stitching you up. “We have to get her to the NICU, so only for a moment. I’m sorry.”
The NICU. Eddie didn’t want to think too hard about that. “Yes, I want to hold her.” Eddie held out his arms and the nurse gently placed the tiny baby in them.
She was so small. She felt like glass, like the most fragile thing in the world. He took in every aspect of her appearance, from her hair that matched his, to her tiny button nose, her little pink lips. Her eyes were closed, so he didn’t get to see her eye color.
He moved over to you and held the baby down for you to see. “Here she is,” he whispered to you. “Our baby girl.”
You smiled a loopy smile, but you could feel the love practically bursting out of your chest. “Hi, Lottie,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “Charlotte Mae.”
Charlotte did great, and had none of the problems common in premature babies. It was a miracle, and you were so grateful.
There was a knock at your door before it opened. Robin walked in, Steve trailing behind her. They both had smiles on their faces and held gift bags. Steve held a bouquet of beautiful flowers. He wore a yellow sweater and jeans, his long hair styled. You couldn’t help but notice how cute he was.
“Hey, mama, how are you feeling?” Robin greeted, coming over and giving you a kiss on the cheek. She looked down at the sleeping baby in your arms. “Hi, Lottie!”
“We’re doing good,” you said, a tired smile on your face. Eddie had been over earlier, but had to leave when Chrissy called the hospital phone, demanding he come home. It had made your chest ache, especially when he obeyed.
“Hey,” Steve said, moving to your other side. He held up the flowers. “I, uh, brought these for you.”
“Had the idea, picked them out, and bought them himself,” Robin said, wiggling her eyebrows.
The way Steve was looking at you did something to you, something felt deep in your chest. “Thank you,” you smiled at him. “They’re beautiful.”
“We also brought you these,” Robin said, placing both gift bags on your lap. One was purple with pink tissue paper, and the other was blue with yellow paper. “Can Auntie Robs hold her now?”
“Of course,” you replied, gently passing the tiny bundle into Robin’s waiting arms. She held the baby like a natural, gently rocking her.
You reached for the purple bag first. You pulled the paper out and found a comfy pair of pajamas for yourself, and a matching set for Charlotte. There was a card inside that read, I’m so proud of you. You’re going to be the best mom ever! Love, Auntie Robs.
You almost teared up, looking at Robin. “Thank you,” you said. “This means so much.”
“Of course,” she smiled. “Now open Steve’s!”
You laughed as you grabbed the blue bag and removed the paper. Inside you found an assortment of candy, and a small teddy bear. A card inside read Motherhood looks beautiful on you. You’re going to rock it. I’m glad we’ve become friends. Love, Steve.
“How did you know I have a sweet tooth?” You asked Steve with a laugh. You couldn’t focus on his note right now unless you really wanted to cry.
“Robin,” he laughed. “She filled me in.”
Robin and Steve visited for as long as they could, taking turns holding Charlotte and helping to take care of both her and you. You were so grateful to have such support, such amazing friends.
Custody was a whole other ordeal. You and Eddie had agreed that he would get Charlotte every other weekend, starting when she was 5 months old and could take a bottle when she was with Eddie since you were breastfeeding.
It worked out, Eddie didn’t argue with you much unless Chrissy started convincing him to, as she sometimes did. He started missing his scheduled weekends, claiming plans with Chrissy. The thing is that Chrissy knew what weekends Eddie had Charlotte, and she would do this on purpose. And he just let her.
It made you so mad. Lottie deserved better than this. She deserved a father who was excited to see her any chance he got. You began to resent Eddie more and more.
It was Saturday night, and Eddie had bailed for the weekend again. He was taking Chrissy to Indianapolis to spend the weekend and go shopping. Honestly, you were in the mood for a good cry.
Not only was Eddie bailing on his visitation, but he was also pushing for more. You didn’t understand it, but you knew who was behind it. Chrissy just liked stirring up shit between you and Eddie. You were convinced she got a kick out of it.
You figured the best way to get a good cry was to go rent a sappy movie. You were sure a good romance would have you sobbing within the hour. You packed Lottie’s diaper bag, strapped her in her car seat, and drove to Family Video.
You smiled when you saw Steve behind the counter through the glass doors. He was on the phone as you walked in, but he gave you a big smile and held up a finger to tell you to hold on a second. You started browsing the movies, seeing what was available.
Steve got off the phone as quickly as possible, rushing over to your side. “Hey, Lottie,” he greeted the baby on your hip, making her giggle and reach for him. You handed her off as Steve happily took her. “So, what brings you in today? Not that I’m not excited to see you.”
You couldn’t help but smile at Steve. “Rough weekend. I need a good cry.”
He frowned. “Why?”
You sighed. “Just Eddie and Chrissy stuff. The usual.”
Steve nodded in understanding, but it pissed him off. He hated the hell Eddie and his girlfriend put you through on a constant basis. He wished he could make it better. “So you need a sad movie?”
“Yeah. Any recommendations?”
He thought for a minute. He browsed the shelves as Lottie played with his name tag. “Hmm…oh!” He reached forward and plucked a VHS off the shelf. “This one will get you for sure.”
You took it from his hands. “Steel Magnolias. I haven’t seen it.”
“Oh, it’ll definitely make you cry,” Steve laughed as you examined the tape, reading the back synopsis.
“Do you know that because it made you cry?” You teased, a playful smile on your lips as you looked at him again.
Steve blushed bright red. “Maybe.”
You laughed, poking him in the side. “Who knew you were such a sap, Steve Harrington.”
“Hey,” he said, holding up his free hand in surrender. “Chicks dig a guy who’s in tune with his emotions.”
“Is that so?”
“It is so,” Steve confirmed with a grin. You could never wipe the smile off your face when Steve was around. He was just so fun, and kind, and funny. He was a great friend, and cute, too, if you let yourself admit it.
You exchanged the tape for Lottie then followed Steve back to the counter where he checked you out. “Just one movie tonight?”
“Yeah. I pass out too early now to watch more than one.”
Steve chuckled as he scanned the tape and pulled up your account. He clicked on his computer for a few seconds before a receipt began to print. “Alright, you’re all set.”
“Thanks,” you smiled as you took the tape and receipt from him. “I’ll see you around, Steve!” You turned and began walking to the front door, ready to get home, get Lottie comfy in bed, then watch your movie.
“Hey,” Steve said, stopping you. You turned around, confused.
“What’s up?”
“Um…” Steve cleared his throat. “Would you…want to go out sometime?” His voice was nervous, like you’d never heard it before.
His words caught you off guard. You raised your eyebrows, switching the baby to the other arm. “What?”
“Go out? Like, on a date?”
You blinked at him. “You want to go on a date…with me?”
“Yeah,” he smiled nervously at you. “I’ve…been wanting to ask you out for a while. But you just had so much going on, I didn’t want to add more stress to your plate…”
“Steve, you could never do anything but make my life better. I love spending time with you.”
He beamed at that. “Yeah? Well…would you want to go on a date with me?”
“Sure,” you smiled. “I would love that.”
You finished packing up Charlotte’s bag, making sure it was stocked with plenty of clothes and her favorite toys, including the teddy bear Steve had given her, which was her absolute favorite. Eddie had plenty of diapers and wipes at his house so you didn’t have to worry about that.
You had your date with Steve tonight. He was going to be picking you up shortly after Lottie left, so you had already gotten ready. You wore a short little dress that you’d been waiting for an excuse to wear forever, your hair hung perfectly, and you had done some light makeup. You hadn’t dressed up like this and gone on a date in…ever.
There was a knock at the door right on time. “There’s daddy!” You told Charlotte, who smiled big and clapped her little hands together. You scooped her up and headed for the front door, opening it to reveal Eddie.
Eddie smiled at Charlotte, but immediately took notice of your look. “Where are you going all dolled up? Got a hot date?” He asked, a sneer in his voice.
Your smile dropped. So he was going to be like this today. “Yeah. I do, actually.”
Eddie didn’t like that. The thought of it struck an unusual and unwelcome jealousy into his chest. “With who?”
“That’s none of your business,” you said. You handed over Charlotte’s bag. “I can do whatever I want. You cheated on me, remember?”
He didn’t acknowledge your second comment. “It is my business if you’re bringing my daughter around some guy.”
You stared him down. “Well, you bring your mistress around our daughter, so I don’t think you have the right to say anything.”
Eddie’s eyes darkened. “Chrissy is my girlfriend.”
“Sure.” You turned to Charlotte, smiling at her. “I’ll see you Sunday, baby girl. I love you so much.” You gave her a lingering kiss on the cheek before handing her off to Eddie. “I’ll see you Sunday.”
Eddie left, and you sighed. You took some deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. You would not let Eddie ruin this night. This was your first time being asked on a date, and you were going to have a good time.
It was about 15 minutes later that Steve picked you up. He looked handsome, wearing a button up shirt and jeans. He held a beautiful bouquet of flowers that he handed you as you opened the door.
“You look gorgeous,” he said, and you could tell from his voice that he truly meant it. You blushed deeply as you took the flowers.
“Thank you,” you smiled. Steve followed you into the apartment, stepping over toys as you walked into the kitchen. You grabbed a vase and filled it with water, placing the flowers inside.
“Where are we going?” You asked as you walked with Steve to his car. He held the passenger side door open for you, and you smiled at him as you slid in. He was such a gentleman.
“I was thinking, dinner and a movie is too lame, too cliche. We watch movies all the time. So,” he gestured into the backseat, “I packed us a picnic, and got us tickets to see David Bowie in the city tonight.”
You stared at him, blinking. “I…no you didn’t.”
Steve laughed. “Yeah, I did. I know you’re a big fan, and he was performing nearby, so…”
“Oh my god!” Your heart was beating out of your chest, you felt like it would explode. “Steve. Oh my god.”
Steve was very proud of himself for this one. He knew you’d freak out, but your reaction was even better than he hoped. “That’s why I asked you out tonight specifically. I, uh…already had the tickets.”
You quickly swiped a falling tear off your cheek before it could mess up your makeup. “Steve Harrington, I think I’m in love with you.”
That made Steve’s heart swell. Because he felt the same way about you.
Steve drove the two of you to the park, where you found a spot next to a large tree. He laid out the blanket and sat down the picnic basket he’d packed full of all kinds of foods. You ate together, laughing and joking and having the best time. But you couldn’t shake the buzzing excitement in your belly from the news of the concert.
It was a couple hour’s drive to the city, but it was worth it. The show was incredible, everything you dreamed seeing David Bowie would be. Steve held your hand, which sent electricity through both of your bodies.
When Steve brought you home, he walked you to your apartment door. Butterflies were flying in your stomach, still ecstatic from the most incredible date you ever could have imagined.
“I had a great time,” Steve said.
“Me too,” you agreed. “Truly. Do you…want to come in? The night doesn’t have to be over yet.”
A smile spread across Steve’s lips. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Steve followed you in. As you turned to him, you saw something behind his eyes. Like he was thinking, considering something. He lifted a hand and caressed the side of your face with the back of his hand, thinking he had never seen someone as beautiful in his life. “Can I kiss you?”
Your breath hitched in your throat. “I…yes.”
Steve smiled lightly. Then he was leaning in, closer and closer, until his lips pressed to yours.
Sparks flew. You kissed him back eagerly, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush to his own. The kiss turned heated, Steve pressing your back up against the wall as he kissed you passionately. His hands began sliding up the skirt of your dress.
“Steve,” you said, breathless against his lips. “Take me to my room.”
The next morning, you woke up next to Steve. He had his arm around your waist, cuddling you close. You were both naked. As you awoke, Steve did, too, pulling you closer to him and nuzzling his face into your neck. “Don’t go,” he mumbled.
“I’m not,” you giggled. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Steve asked you to be his girlfriend that morning. It may have been a little soon, but you happily said yes. You knew Steve well, he was one of your best friends. You knew you wanted to be with him.
Robin was ecstatic when you told her the news. “About time!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms up. “Took you long enough, dingus.”
You knew you had to tell Eddie. As much as you dreaded it, he deserved to know as the father of your daughter. You waited a couple of weeks into the relationship, wanting to be sure things were going to work out before you brought it up. But your relationship with Steve was incredible, a kind of joy you never thought you could experience in a relationship.
Eddie came to the door to drop off Charlotte one Sunday evening. He was a little early, and Steve was over.
“Shit,” you hissed as he knocked at the door. “I guess it’s now or never.”
You answered the door, loving how Lottie’s face lit up at the sight of you. “Hi baby!”
“Mama!” She called, reaching for you. You took her from Eddie’s arms, sitting her on your hip. “Dada!” She exclaimed next, only she wasn’t looking at Eddie.
Steve had come up behind you, and Lottie was pointing at him. Your mouth dropped as Eddie’s face turned to one of pure anger. “What the fuck?” He said.
“I swear, I don’t know what that’s about. She’s never called him that before,” you explained quickly. Honestly Eddie deserved to have his feelings hurt, but you knew how destroyed you would be if Lottie called Chrissy Mama.
“What is he doing here anyway?” Eddie asked, gesturing towards Steve. “I don’t see Robin here. Do you have a life of your own, Harrington?”
You looked between Steve and Eddie. “Ed…me and Steve are…together.”
The words hit Eddie like a punch to the gut. He figured you would date eventually, but maybe he just got spoiled by you being single. He didn’t expect the pain of finding out you had moved on. And with Harrington? “What?”
You pursed your lips, knowing this had the potential to go badly. “We’re together. Steve is my boyfriend.”
Eddie just stared between the two of you. Then, he laughed, a sinister sounding chuckle. He knew he had no right to be pissed, but he was pissed. “Well, isn’t that just great.”
“Eddie-“
“No,” he said, holding a hand up. “You don’t owe me an explanation. You do whatever you want. Enjoy your life with Steve.”
And with that, he left. He didn’t even tell Charlotte goodbye.
Things with Steve were incredible. He was the best boyfriend you could ask for, and he was amazing with Lottie. She loved playing with him, and he could sit on the floor and play with her for hours without getting bored.
You had been together for a year and a half when he surprised you with a trip to the beach. You spent the weekend laying out in the sun, playing in the ocean, making love until the early morning in your suite.
On the last day there, you were walking down the beach hand in hand. As you were looking down at the sand for seashells, you noticed some writing in the sand. You let go of Steve’s hand to walk over and read it.
Will you marry me?
“Steve!” You exclaimed. “Look, someone proposed! How cute-“
You froze when you turned around to see Steve on one knee, holding a beautiful ring in a black velvet box. You gasped, tears immediately falling. You always were emotional.
“Will you make me the luckiest guy in the world and marry me?”
Eddie came home a little early from work one evening, and immediately knew something was wrong. He could feel it in the atmosphere before he even heard the noises. Those unmistakable noises.
He crept down the hallway, careful not to make any noise. Not that he thought he’d be noticed, anyway. Not with what he deeply suspected was going on.
He made it to the bedroom he shared with Chrissy. The door was slightly ajar, and he took a deep breath before pushing it open all the way.
Chrissy and her ex, Jason Carver, were in his bed, absolutely going at it. Eddie knew this was what was going on from the moment he walked into the apartment, but seeing it, he still felt like he’d be sick. Chrissy turned at the sound of the door opening and screamed, covering herself and Jason, who didn’t really seem to give a fuck at all.
After Jason left and Eddie was left alone with his girlfriend, he demanded the truth. She admitted she had been sleeping with Jason again for months.
Naturally, Eddie kicked her out. Then, he was alone.
Alone with only his thoughts, he had too much quiet time to think. And what he found himself thinking about was you. Far too often. He thought about your relationship, how he fucked everything up, including your lifelong friendship. Sure, he got his beautiful daughter out of it, but he could have treated you better. He should have treated you better.
He also thought about the way you’d treated him. The way you had loved him. How you were the only woman who had ever loved him, besides his mom all those years ago. How he had taken you for granted. He thought about how he would feel if some asshole treated Lottie the way he treated you. The thought itself made him furious.
Because now that Chrissy was gone and he was no longer blinded by his lifelong crush, he was realizing something:
Eddie loved you.
Not just as the mother of his child, or as a platonic friend, but love love. The kind he had been too blind to see back in high school, back during the days of your relationship.
He hated himself now. He had fucked up more than was even fathomable. He had thrown you away, for Chrissy. You were so much better than Chrissy in every way. Prettier, smarter, funnier, kinder. And you had treated him well.
Eddie dwelled on it for months. He grabbed his mail from the mailbox as he headed into his trailer one day, flipping through the various bills and junk mail - until he stopped at one with your name on it.
He dropped the other pieces of mail in his rush to open that one. He nearly ripped it in half getting it open, and as he pulled out the card inside, his blood ran cold.
You are cordially invited to the wedding of Mr. and Mrs Harrington.
welcome to my masterlist! here you’ll find all my work in one place!
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series
wildflower - an eddie munson x fem!reader and steve harrington x fem!reader love triangle｜henderson!reader, mom!reader, dad!eddie, rockstar!eddie, ex!eddie, best friend!steve｜+18｜ongoing
the needle and the damage done - an eddie munson x fem!reader rockstar au｜mom!wife!reader, dad!husband!eddie, rockstar!eddie, addict!eddie｜+18｜ongoing
real love, baby - billy hargrove x fem!reader｜hookup to lovers｜pregnant!reader｜+18｜ongoing
nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby - eddie munson x fem!reader｜dbf!eddie, older!eddie, harrington!reader｜dad’s best friend trope｜+18｜ongoing
teen pregnancy series - a ST x fem!reader pregnancy series｜+18｜ongoing
we are never getting back together - eddie munson x fem!reader｜ex husband!eddie, ex wife!reader, dad!eddie, mom!reader, older!eddie｜+18｜ongoing
don’t say you love me - eddie munson x fem!reader, billy hargrove x fem!reader｜hopper!reader, love triangle, pregnancy｜+18｜ongoing
such small hands - eddie munson x fem!henderson!reader｜major angst, hurt/little comfort, post s4 events, pregnancy, some x steve｜+18｜ongoing
baby daddy! rafe series - a rafe cameron x fem!reader anthology series｜dad!rafe, mom!reader, ex!rafe｜+18｜ongoing
stop the stars - billy hargrove x fem! oc katelyn henderson｜hookup to lovers angst｜+18｜hiatus?
coming soon
runaways - steve harrington x fem!reader｜preacher’s daughter!reader, track star!reader, baseball player!steve｜+18｜coming soon
bigger than the whole sky - steve harrington x fem!reader｜angst, hurt/comfort, pregnancy, loss｜+18｜coming soon
closer to morning - eddie munson x fem!reader｜ex husband!steve, step dad!eddie, mom!reader, dad!steve｜+18｜coming soon
jason doesn’t know - eddie munson x fem!reader｜jason carver’s wife!reader, cheating｜+18｜coming soon
dinner in america - eddie munson x fem!reader｜based on the movie｜+18｜coming soon
scream: the hawkins massacre - an eddie munson x fem!reader horror miniseries｜scream au｜+18｜coming soon maybe but don’t hold your breath because i’ve been fighting with this draft for months
one shots
steve harrington
zombie movies & first kisses - steve x fem! henderson! reader｜first date｜fluff
lover boy - steve x fem!reader｜modern college au｜frat king!steve｜+18｜smut
for the very first time - steve x fem!reader｜virgin!reader｜+18｜fluff, smut
is there someone else? - steve x fem!reader, some eddie munson x fem!reader｜college au｜+18｜smut
baby, it’s cold outside - steve x fem!reader｜best friend!steve, christmas｜promptmas 2024｜+18｜smut
fall in love again - steve x ex wife!reader｜mom!reader, dad!steve｜christmas ‘24｜fluff
no one knows (oh, what you do to me) - steve x fem!reader｜ceo!steve, older!steve, personal assistant!reader｜1k celebration｜+18｜smut
there is no other love (it’s only yours) - steve x fem!reader｜5 times i was mistaken for steve’s girlfriend and the one time i really was｜best friend!reader, idiots in love｜fluff
call out my name - steve x fem!reader｜best friend!secret boyfriend!steve｜reader having to stay quiet while on the phone with nancy｜+18｜smut
hard to concentrate - steve x fem!reader｜s5 finale breeding kink｜+18｜smut
billy hargrove
how do i live without you? - billy x fem!reader, platonic steve harrington!reader｜pregnant!reader｜angst with some fluff
out of control - billy x fem!reader｜dubcon, sex pollen｜+18｜smut
eddie munson
late night with the devil - eddie x fem!reader｜+18｜smut
please please please - eddie x fem!reader｜hopper!reader, delinquent!eddie｜+18｜smut
flesh and bone - eddie x fem!reader｜+18｜smut
new year’s magic - eddie x fem!reader｜NYE ‘24｜fluff
nothing else matters - eddie x fem!reader｜older!eddie, birthday boy for CCF｜+18｜smut
meet the parents - eddie x fem!reader｜promptmas ‘24｜+18｜smut
do you trust me? - eddie x fem!reader｜vampire!eddie｜+18｜smut
please be gentle (when you’re tearing me apart) - eddie x fem!reader, steve harrington x fem!reader｜asshole!eddie｜+18｜major angst, some smut
do you wanna come over? - eddie x fem!reader｜virgin!eddie, cheerleader!reader｜+18｜smut
wildest dreams - eddie x fem!reader｜bakery order｜virgin!eddie, best friend!reader｜first time, friends to lovers, porn with no plot｜+18｜smut
you must be a dream - eddie x fem!reader｜perv!eddie, virgin!eddie, Carver!reader, popular!cheerleader!reader, fwb!king!steve｜pure filth｜+18｜smut
⤷ part 2
right down the line - eddie x fem!reader｜rockstar!eddie, older!eddie, manager!reader｜+18｜angst, smut
⤷ part 2
harringrove
i bet on losing dogs - billy hargrove x steve harrington｜+18｜angst, smut
robin buckley
naked in manhattan - robin x fem!reader｜best friend!robin｜promptmas ‘24｜+18｜smut
jonathan byers
girls on film - jonathan x fem!reader｜+18｜smut
undressed - jonathan x fem!munson!reader｜first time｜+18｜smut
rafe cameron
baby, come here (i get so lonely at night) - rafe x fem!reader｜frat!rafe｜+18｜smut
jj maybank
friends don’t - jj x fem!reader｜best friend!jj｜fluff
emperor geta
an heir for an emperor - geta x fem!reader｜empress!reader｜+18｜smut
⤷ the emperor’s love - geta x fem!reader｜ empress!reader｜part 2｜+18｜smut
both arms cradle you now - geta x fem!reader｜bakery order｜surprise pregnancy, forbidden love｜+18｜smut
gator tillman
you know my desire - gator x fem!reader｜gunplay｜+18｜smut
don’t forget (you’re mine) - gator x fem!reader｜1k celebration｜+18｜smut
johnny storm
the calm before the storm - johnny x pregnant!gf!reader｜contains movie spoilers｜+18｜fluff, smut, angst
sam (warfare)
coming home to you - sam x fem!wife!reader｜check warnings!｜+18｜angst, fluff, smut
joel miller
listen to that fireplace roar - joel x fem!reader｜younger!reader｜+18｜smut
blurbs
steve harrington
take a ride - steve x fem!reader｜baby making in the truck｜+18｜smut
good for us - steve x eddie munson x fem!reader｜hard dom!steve, soft dom!eddie, sub!reader, threesome｜+18｜smut
kiss me - steve x fem!reader｜coworker!reader｜1k celebration｜fluff
rockstar!steve - steve x fem!reader｜rockstar!steve｜+18｜smut
billy hargrove
please… - billy x fem!reader｜+18｜smut
eddie munson
good for us - eddie x steve harrington x fem!reader｜hard dom!steve, soft dom!eddie, sub!reader, threesome｜+18｜smut
pussydrunk eddie - eddie x fem!reader｜+18｜smut
sucking eddie off - eddie x fem!reader｜+18｜smut
eddie & plus size gf go to prom - eddie x plus size! fem!reader｜+18｜smut
love letters - eddie x fem!reader｜dom!eddie｜+18｜smut
obey your (dungeon) master - eddie x fem!reader｜dom!eddie｜+18｜smut
don’t stop - eddie x fem!reader｜sub!eddie｜+18｜smut
blurb bakery order 1 - eddie x fem!reader｜first time, one bed trope｜+18｜smut
blurb bakery order 2 - eddie x fem!reader｜baker’s choice｜+18｜smut
blurb bakery order 4 - eddie x fem!reader｜rockstar au, one bed trope｜+18｜smut
rafe cameron
rafe & his plus size gf - rafe x plus size! fem!reader｜+18｜smut
headcanons
the guys taking care of you while sick - billy hargrove, eddie munson, eric (aqpdo)
Warnings: major angst, breakups, heartbreak, allusions to cheating, self doubt, mean!Steve, King!Steve, hurt/comfort, love triangle, mentions of an ED, past trauma. Eddie x reader ending.
Parings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader | Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler
Summary: Steve was slipping through your fingers and you desperately held onto him not realizing that his heart wasn’t yours anymore. Dealing with the aftermath of your breakup turns out to be harder than you thought. Steve’s presence still lingers and while he keeps a hold of your heart, someone else sneaks their way into it too.
prologue | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve | part thirteen | part fourteen | part fifteen | part sixteen | part seventeen | part eighteen | part nineteen | part twenty | part twenty one | part twenty two | part twenty three | part twenty four | part twenty five | part twenty six | part twenty seven | part twenty eight | part twenty nine | part thirty | epilogue
cause i loved you, i swear i loved you till my dying day!
summary: a guilt ridden steve harrington realises vecna has cursed you 18 months after the last; he has to find you, and he has to find you fast. while steve hurries to search for you, hopefully alive, nancy and jonathan discover that vecna doesn't want to take you to the other kids... he wants to kill you.
warnings: angst, vecna's curse, mentions of death, st level violence, this is lowk just plot i’m sorry, a lot of action and attempts of writing it, mentions of comas, lots of scene jumps, s5 spoilers, blends into 'the bridge' episode, more parts to come!
(the way i might extend this series and make it to the end of the show bc we deserve an epilogue on these two lowkey ALSOOO any objections to a lucas sinclair fic named 'so high school!')
word count: 5.5K
part one,, part three,, part four,, part five
main masterlist
steve harrington x fem!reader
(STRANGER THINGS S5 VOLUME 2 SPOILERS)
𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐍𝐎 idea how long you had been walking for. You had grown accustomed to the sound of your own breathing, the soft puffs of air a pitiful attempt to ignore the throbbing pain behind your skull. Your tear stained cheeks worsened your headache and the sound of your own sniffling bothered you to no end; to say you were overstimulated was an understatement.
Your home had never called your name more. The thought of curling up on the couch with a blanket thrown over your figure, the television becoming a background sound as your eyelids grew heavy; you wished the Upside Down installed multiple exits.
But being a dystopian world where monsters hunt you down every other minute, it was expected that whatever force created it wasn’t kind enough to help someone out.
As much as you tried to ignore it, your mind replayed the conversation-- or argument with Steve.
You’ve fought interdimensional monsters, practically went hand-to-hand combat with them, gotten beaten up by Russian underneath Starcourt Mall, been cursed by a force that targeted you for no apparent reason and lost one of your closest friends. But somehow, Steve Harrington confirming your worst fears trumped all of the above.
The ringing in your head got louder with each passing second. The sound of your footsteps inside the lab became muffled as you groaned at the painful sensation burning between your temples.
With the pain becoming all-consuming, you almost missed the shout of your name and hurried footsteps rounding the corner.
You furrowed your brows and picked up the pace, quickly walking to the familiar voice as it reeked of concern and immense worry, the yells of your name getting louder the closer you got.
Just as you turned the corner, your body collided with someone’s chest, their hands shooting out to steady your frame.
You looked up at the person, “Steve?” Your voice shook slightly.
Steve looked back at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read, his eyes almost hollow. “I was looking for you.” He said simply, his grip on your sides tightening.
You didn’t know how to respond. Did you have to respond? Steve was acting as he had never said those words moments earlier, as if he hadn’t ripped your heart out and made you swallow all the guilt you kept at bay for 18 months. As if he didn’t break your heart in the process.
You mustered up your courage to hum in response, slowly shuffling your feet to indicate that you two should get a move on and find the others. Clearing your throat, you shook his hand off your side and started to walk away, expecting him to follow a respectable distance behind.
A strong hand grabbing your wrist made you stop in your tracks. You whipped your head around and watched as the hand you had traced in the past grip tight, your skin turning red under his finger tips.
“The fox got away.” Steve whispered to himself. You blinked, what was he talking about?
You opened your mouth to question Steve, but he yanked you back to stand in front of him. “You were right.” He mumbled.
“What?” You said, barely above a whisper.
Steve looked different. His hair wasn’t as voluminous as you knew it to be and his skin was sickly pale, dark circles forming underneath his eyes. You would’ve raised concern at his appearance any other day, but the pain growing on your wrist resisted the temptation.
“It should’ve been you.” Steve said, his eyes locking on your own.
Your breath hitched at his words, eyes widening and biting the inside of your cheeks to suppress the tears that were inevitable.
You tried to yank yourself out of his hold, “Steve, you’re hurting me.” You said under your breath, terrified of raising your voice as he stared daggers into your face.
“It should’ve been you.” Steve repeated, his voice slightly slurred this time, the fingers wrapped around your wrist shaking.
Your breath got caught in the back of your throat as you watched the familiar flesh like hand worm around your wrist, the red being travelling up his arm and removing any essence of Steve Harrington.
“No.” You whispered as your eyes travelled further up his figure, revealing the face that taunted you 18 months ago, the one who made your life living hell and forced you to conform to its consequences.
Tears blurred your vision as Steve’s face transformed into Vecna’s, his haunting face staring into your own. “It’s time.”
Your chest tightened and a sob escaped your mouth. As fear took over your body, you lifted your leg to kick into Vecna’s stomach, forcing him to loosen his grip on you enough you could stumble backwards.
Falling over your own feet, your back collided with the lab wall. The contact caused the wall to crumble under your spine, your figure falling into the hole it created. The world spun as you fell backwards, your hands reaching out to grab onto anything.
The wind was knocked out of you as you landed on your back, the back of your head slamming into the floor. You scrambled to sit on your knees as you peered around your surroundings, breathing heavily as you searched for Vecna, already planning to run in the opposite direction.
The palm of your hand carried your weight on the floor. Your fingers twitched and you heard the scrunch of grass, contradicting the lab flooring you previously walked miles on.
Swallowing hard, you looked down to see grass poking out between your fingers. You furrowed your brows and lifted your head and you felt your heart stop.
Gravestones suffocated your kneeling figure as they were scattered around the grass roots, the surroundings identical to the cemetery Max had been cursed at 18 months ago.
Your eyes scanned every name etched into the stone, looking for anything new and out of place, something that could guide you out of Vecna’s mind as the lab was out of reach, completely out of your vision.
One gravestone was smudged with dirt. You slowly crept towards it, feeling a gravitational pull towards the one that looked out of place.
You pulled the sleeve of your sweater over your hand and wiped the dirt off of the gravestone, the name carved into it punching you straight in the gut.
“What the fuck?” You whispered to yourself.
There in front of you laid your own gravestone.
Your name was marked permanently into the stone with dead flowers in front of you.
That wasn’t the part that concerned you though.
The date of your supposed death was marked underneath:
November 6th.
𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄. His chest felt too tight and his palms were clamming. Sweat stuck to his forehead, keeping loose strands of his hair uncomfortably attached to his skin. His heart beat out of his chest every time he hurriedly pushed open a door, his voice raw from shouting your name but he refused to let himself rest for even a second if he knew you were still in danger.
“Jesus, Steve!” Dustin panted as he retraced his friend’s footsteps, “Slow down!” He placed his palm against the wall, stopping to catch his breath as Steve sped up.
Steve shook his head and stayed looking ahead, “I’m not stopping until I find her!” He shouted from over his shoulder, pushing open any door he passed in hopes of finding you standing there, safe from any threat.
Steve's actions were fuelled by immense regret. He couldn’t believe it was his own words that drove you to where you were now; alone and with a monster lurking over your shoulder, waiting to strike.
He should’ve noticed you were off from the second you stepped into the lab. He knew you; coming from being friends for years and holding your hand as the pair of you sprinted away from interdimensional creates-- multiple times.
Dustin sighed and pushed himself upright, his feet guiding him towards Steve’s tense shoulders, placing a hand on them. Steve flinched at the contact and whipped his head around to face the shorter boy, “What?”
“What is going on with you, dude?” Dustin furrowed his brows and Steve scoffed, “What’s going on is our friend is missing and a Demo could be dragging her through a damn opening right now!”
Dustin widened his eyes at Steve’s harsh tone, “And it’s all my fault because I haven’t forgiven myself for what happened 18 months ago!”
“Forgiven yourself?” Dustin mumbled under his breath, brows knitted together as Steve’s chest rose and fell in anguish.
Before Dustin could press the matter more, a static sound from their walkie had Steve snatching the device out of the backpack, “Talk to me.”
“You guys need to find her right now.” Nancy’s voice crackled from the other side of the walkie. Steve and Dustin shared a concerned look and the younger boy plucked it out of Steve’s hands, “What happened?”
They heard Jonathan sigh through the walkie, “We were wrong.” Nancy said, concerned laced in her voice, “So unbelievably wrong.”
"𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐎 fucked.” You whispered to yourself as you stumbled away from the date that was glaring at you. Your own name was mocking you as it was engraved on the stone, as if it was a certainty you couldn’t control, something that had already been decided for you and you had to conform to it.
Death was relatively certain, and it was staring straight at you.
Your breath hitched as you looked past the stone, the fog in the distance interrupted by a figure that stood still. You knew it was him. He was probably holding in a laugh at the scene he whipped up for you, enjoying the terror that flooded your body.
Without thinking, you rose to your feet and turned the other way. Putting one foot in front of the other, you sprinted away from Vecna’s figure, one that was growing uncomfortably closer.
You refused to turn your head and look back, the sooner you could get out of your designed hellhole, the better off you would be.
Your back burned as you picked up the pace, pain shooting up and down your spine from landing in the graveyard. Your throat dried up as you heaved out tired breaths, your legs beginning to feel like jelly as you could only will yourself to keep going.
You had no idea where you were heading to. You could only hope your friends would find you soon enough and by chance had a walkman on them, there to place those familiar headphones over your ears and hum to the tunes of the artist you’d bore them all with.
Without an exit in sight, you kept running and prayed that luck would be on your side.
Apparently it wasn’t as the toe of your shoe got caught on a stray wire on the floor, causing your body to fly forwards and land heavily on your front.
You braced yourself with your hands, feeling the heels graze underneath new surroundings. You groaned as you hauled yourself back onto your feet, eyes casting downwards to the wire you had tripped on.
The floor was now white with a black wire along with others scattered on the floor. Your eyes travelled the length of the wire and gasped when you saw it was hooked up to a heart monitor.
No longer in the graveyard with grass underneath your feet, you found yourself in the hospital you knew too well.
You have visited this place so many times. You knew exactly what room this was and who was in it.
Your hands shook at your sides as you reluctantly looked at the person who was laid in the bed in the centre of the room, their red hair an instant give-away.
Max Mayfield was tucked underneath the thin hospital bed sheets, her soft hair plaited away from her face, making the pale skin and dark under eyes painfully obvious to the one who blamed herself for Max’s current state.
“The fox.” Vecna’s voice made you flinch away from Max, slotting yourself in the corner of the room as you watched his figure stand beside the bed.
He looked down at Max before glancing at you, “It should’ve been you.”
Your chest tightened at his words and felt bile rise in your throat, “All your friends know it.” He continued, “She knows it.”
You shook your head and suppressed a sob, “No they don’t.” Vecna slowly walked towards you, causing you to press your back further into the wall as if it could create some distance between you.
Vecna tilted his head, “Are you trying to convince them or yourself?”
All the words died on the tip of your tongue as your eyes flickered between the man standing in front of you and the teenager who laid in the hospital bed. She should’ve been in school, surrounded by her friends; but by some disgusting twist of fate, she was hooked up to a heart monitor and assumed to be in a coma.
“She will die today.” Your head snapped to look at Vecna, your eyes flooded with tears from fear and guilt, “What?”
“The Demodogs will kill her physical form.” Vecna explained, “And it’ll be your fault. Again.”
“No!” You sobbed, eyes squeezed shut to block out the vision. “All because you weren’t there.” He said.
“But that wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened. Would it?” Vecna said, his words piercing your straight in the heart.
You took deep breaths, your chest suddenly feeling impossibly tighter that it did earlier. Your shaking hands supported your body, reaching out to grasp at the tables either side of you.
Your hand connected with a sharp object which made you flinch away from it, a spot of blood drawn from the tip of your finger. A scalpel was delicately placed on the table, draped over a blue sheet.
Your brain slowly worked together, blocking out Vecna’s words as he continued berating you, attempting to make you weak which was exactly what he needed.
You looked back at him, eyes locked onto his own as your hands subtly felt around the table to grasp the handle of the scalpel. You slid it under the sleeve of your sweater so Vecna wouldn’t see your intentions.
Vecna slowly lifted a hand over your face, “It’s time.” Before he slowly closed his eyes.
You took this as your opportunity to jab the scalpel into the side of his neck, causing him to drop his hand and fly backwards, hunching over and clutching the wound.
Pushing his body out of the way in his vulnerable state, you headed straight for the door on the other side of the room. Pulling it open, you were met with a red abyss, a place familiar from 18 months ago.
You were close to getting out. You just hoped everyone else was close to finding you.
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘'𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 the walkie unbelievably tight, sweat beginning to form in the palm of her hand. After losing sight of her sister, Jonathan guided her back inside and caught sight of Steve and Dustin retreating, screaming over their shoulders that Vecna was going for you and that finding you was the top priority.
Jonathan squatted beside her as she sat defeated on the floor, “This doesn’t make sense.” He muttered.
Nancy looked up at him, “What doesn’t?” Jonathan ran his hand down his face, “Why would he go for her?” He said, gesturing to where Steve had fled to search for you.
“Because…” Nancy started but her reasoning trailed off. Jonathan was right; Why would Vecna target you? Again?
“She’s not a kid. Vecna goes for weak minds and she doesn’t have that.” Jonathan furrowed his brows, “Also, Holly’s gone again. He wouldn’t have a backup.”
Nancy blinked rapidly, her brain quickly piecing together the story, “Vecna sent the Demos after Holly. That’s how he took her.”
Nancy rose to her feet, “He doesn't want to take her like he did with the kids.” Her eyes widened, “He didn’t succeed when he cursed her 18 months ago.”
“He’s cleaning up any loose ends.” Jonathan said, his voice trembling. Nancy nodded, her face expressing pure fear, “And the Demos?”
Jonathan’s breath hitched, “He wants to kill her.”
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Nancy cursed and pressed on the walkie, “You guys need to find her right now.” She shouted to Dustin and Steve on the other end.
She heard them question her sudden fear, “We were wrong. So unbelievably wrong.”
Steve’s face paled and he snatched the walkie out of Dustin’s hand, continuing his search for you, now breaking out into a sprint while screaming questions to Nancy and Jonathan.
“What are you talking about?” Steve said, turning the corner and going down another flight of stairs. “We don’t have time to explain. Just get her out of here!” Nancy’s voice crackled through the walkie.
Steve heard shuffling on the other side of the walkie, “The Demos,” Jonathan’s voice startled him, “They’re on their way to kill her.”
A chill ran down Steve’s spine and he tossed the walkie into Dustin’s arms, ignoring his protests as he sprinted down another empty corridor. His throat burned from how constant and how loud he was screaming for your whereabouts, fear controlling his rationality and the overwhelming concern for your safety was teetering on unexplainable.
He was living a real life fear that losing you could become a possibility, and one he’s lived through before.
He begged that when he turned that fortunate corner that your feet would still be on the floor, your eyes weren’t rolled into the back of your head and your bones were very much still intact. He longed for the ever present fear that struck him 18 months ago had gone, but as he had failed you and you still had a target on your back, no promises could be made.
Steve groaned as his shoulder collided with the wall, his pace causing his steps to become erratic and body to crash into his surroundings. As he winced and rubbed his shoulder with his hand, he looked up.
At the end of the hallway stood a figure, their arms hanging loosely at the side of their body with their fingers twitching, like they were willing their body to move but their mind wouldn’t cooperate. Their eyes were rolled into the back of their head and their face was void of any human emotion, just their uneven breathing giving away how they reeked of fear.
Steve felt like he could throw up as he took slow steps towards the figure, his eyes trained on how the person was fighting a war they knew they couldn’t win alone.
Except it wasn’t just a person, it was you. And Steve Harrington was face to face with his worst nightmare.
Your name rolled off the tip of his tongue as he placed his hands on your shoulders, shaking your body lightly, “No, no, no.” Steve panicked, his hands sliding up to cup your face, his fingers shaking as he rubbed his thumb up and down your cheekbone.
“Stay with me, come on.” He begged, placing his forehead against your own. He refused to let his hands leave you because he couldn’t risk you floating out of his grip.
Steve heard footsteps approaching the scene and knew who was behind him from the hitch of their breath, “Dustin, do you have her walkman?” He said, keeping his eyes trained on you.
Dustin ran to stand next to your frozen figure, his hand gripping your forearm, “Why the hell would I have her walkman, dude?”
“I don’t know! You carry a lot of shit!” Steve shouted back, his consuming fear for you causing him to lash out.
Dustin sighed and struggled to look at your pale face for any longer, “Why don’t you just sing or something?”
Steve snapped his head to face his friend, his eyes squinted and brows pinched together in an exasperated expression, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Dustin opened his mouth to retort back a smart comment but Jonathan’s voice rang out in Steve’s mind, making him interrupt the younger boy, “We don’t have time for this.” He grunted and looked back at you.
Without hesitation, Steve scooped your body into his arms, resting your head against his chest as he carried you bridal style. He whispered reassurances to you as he lifted you, knowing that you couldn’t hear it but the idea comforted himself more than anything.
“We’ve gotta get her out of here.” Steve nodded at Dustin and handed him his flashlight, allowing himself to devote his entire attention to you.
Steve swallowed his nerves and looked down at your face, feeling his heart lurch in his chest as your eyes were void of familiarity, “You’re gonna be okay.” His voice shook as he readjusted you in his arms, “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
Tightening his grip on you, his feet began moving in the direction he had just come from, retracing his steps to carry you out of the Upside Down.
Dustin jogged ahead of you, pushing the doors open for Steve to walk through with ease. A stretching sound made both of their bodies tense up and Steve to tug your figure closer against his chest.
They tilted their heads to look over their shoulder, their hearts pounding in their chest as they saw the familiar shadow of a Demogorgon growing closer, inches away from turning the corner and finding their helpless faces.
Steve took a deep breath and pressed his back against the wall beside the door, blocking you and him out of the vision of the monster lurking. Dustin leaned forwards and reached to slowly shut the door but Steve slapped his hand, “Don’t.”
“They can’t get us if it’s shut.” Dustin whispered back, gesturing to the thick door standing between you and the Demogorgon. Dustin was right. If he successfully shut the door without the Demo noticing, no matter how much body strength they had, nothing could break the opening down.
Steve shook his head rapidly, “You’ll get us caught.” Dustin offered him a sympathetic look, “It’ll work. Trust me.”
Steve looked down at your unconscious body, fingers reaching up to brush a stray hair out of your face, “I can’t lose her.” His voice broke, a thin layer of tears burning his eyes as he yearned to keep you as close and safe as possible.
Dustin sighed and felt his emotions brewing as he watched Steve’s hands gently caress your face. “It’ll work.” He repeated.
Steve swallowed his nerves, “I trust you.” He nodded at Dustin and cupped the back of your head, hiding your face in his chest.
Dustin wiped the sweat off his palms and slowly crawled forwards, blocking out the screeches of the Demogorgon as it knocked down objects in its way, frantically searching for you. He wrapped his fingers around the door handle and took a deep breath before pulling it an inch closer, underestimating how heavy it was as the metal glided against the ragged flooring, causing a loud sound to ring out the lab.
Steve and Dustin’s eyes widened as they watched the Demogorgon’s head whip around to face the three of you. It stood up on its back feet and lunged towards the open door.
“Shit!” Dustin yelled and stood up, grabbing the other handle of the door and using his entire body weight to yank it closed.
The doors groaned against the floor and the Demogorgon’s pounding steps grew closer, “Come on, man!” Steve shouted at his friend, “I’m trying!” He yelled back.
Dustin yelled as he threw his body backwards as he was still latched onto the door, the force enough to slam the doors closed. The Demogorgon’s body collided with the other side of the door, causing the hinges to rattle and drown out the sighs of relief from Steve and Dustin.
“Jesus Christ!” Dustin laughed, hunching over and placing his hands on his knees. Steve laughed in disbelief slightly before standing up on his feet, hoisting you further into his body and pressed a soft kiss on the crown of your head.
“Let's get you out of here.” He whispered into your hair and ignored the single tear slip out his eye, he couldn’t determine whether it was from the emotional stress of the situation or losing you.
After taking a quick detour out of the lab, Steve and Dustin joined the others outside, smiles gracing their faces as they made eye contact with Hopper and the crew. Mike pulled Dustin into a tight hug and looked over his friend's shoulder, seeing you looking lifeless in Steve’s arms.
“Steve--” “Where’s the gate?” Steve cut Mike’s questioning off, passing everyone with hurried footsteps as he charged forwards. The group all looked between each other and raised immediate concerns for you, “What the hell happened to her?”
“Where is the goddamn gate?” Steve shouted and turned around to face everyone. Their jaws unclenched as they saw Steve was distraught, clinging onto his lifeline in his arms as if he would sacrifice the world to bring her back.
Eleven stepped forwards, “This way.” Steve followed in her footsteps and Eleven looked over her shoulder occasionally, unable to ignore the way Steve mumbled endless apologies and promises to your pale face, her eyes softening at the moment.
Eleven gestured to the gate as it appeared in their sight, “Right there.” Before she could even finish her statement, Steve was running towards it.
He kicked the rubble out of the way and shoved his arm into the orange and red gate, clearing the path to hoist you through. A figure flinched on the other side of the gate before their head popped into vision, their face blurred from the division of worlds.
“Holy shit!” Lucas cursed as he watched Steve fumble with your unconscious figure, “Take her to the WSQK.” Steve demanded.
Lucas reached his hands through the gate and placed them under your armpits, pulling you back into the real world as Steve pushed you through with his hands tight around your waist.
As Lucas hauled you into the real world, the redhead perched in a wheel-chair gasped and clasped her hands over her mouth.
“Oh, my God!” Max’s voice was muffled by her hands. Her throat closed up as she watched your eyes roll into the back of your head and your arms limp beside you. She knew that feeling before, she had lived it multiple times.
But seeing the person who did everything in their power to protect you and watched them live their life in guilt, whimpering as she watched you cradle her hand in the hospital almost every night, went through the same thing she did. Max Mayfield was terrified and for once, it was out of her control.
Lucas dragged you away from the gate, his fingers reaching for your pulse and his breath quickened. Steve quickly followed after you, pushing himself through the gate and scooping you into his arms once again.
Ignoring the questions from Lucas, Steve took off towards the WSQK. Dustin stumbled out of the gate, “Steve, what are you doing?” He shouted after his friend.
“I’m finding her music!” Steve shouted back and kicked open the door to the radio station.
Max widened her eyes as Steve barged into the station, “No…” She whispered under her breath, “That’ll only waste time.” She shook her head and headed towards where Steve had carried you, ignoring the burning in her palms as she hurriedly wheeled herself to stop Steve.
As she entered the WSQK, Max’s breath hitched as she saw you delicately placed on the couch. Your face was twitching with fear and Max understood that you were fighting, and fighting hard. For him.
She heard records being tossed in another room and Steve’s curses, “It’s not here.” He groaned and Max raised her voice, “Steve, stop!”
“He’s got her! I just need to find this stupid song!” Steve shouted and barged through each room, shoving any objects that were in his way as he rushed to get back to you.
“It’s not the music!” Max tried to voice her statement over Steve’s ruckus. “It’s here somewhere. I swear to God--”
“It’s you, Steve!” Max shouted and threw her hands up in frustration.
Steve stopped abruptly, “What?” He squinted his eyes at the redhead. She sighed and gestured over at you, “She doesn’t need music.”
Steve looked over at you, “She needs something that connects her to the real world,” Max inhaled shakily, “To home.”
Tears prickled at Steve’s eyes as he dropped the multiple records, taking slow steps towards you and crouching down next to the couch. “Something powerful. Meaningful.” Max continued.
“That’s you, Steve. She needs you.” Max said to him, swallowing her emotions as she watched a tear cascade down his face. “Tell her everything. That’s how you can reach her.”
Steve’s bottom lip wobbled and he reached up to caress your face with the back of his hand. He couldn’t fathom how you could always look so beautiful as the darkness of his terrors consumed his every being, you were the light of everyone's life that had been snuffed out 18 months ago; and Steve Harrington had the matches to reignite you.
Max slowly backed out of the room to give you and Steve space. If he needed to pull you back in, his vulnerability had to guide him.
Steve sniffled and wiped his tears away, “Alright,” He took a deep breath, “I’m gonna do this.” He reassured himself before sliding his hand into your own.
“I didn’t mean it. Not one word.” He laced his fingers with your own, “I don’t even know why I said it. I was pissed off and I took it out on the wrong person, and I couldn’t be more sorry, you have to know that.”
Steve sighed and lifted your hand so he could press a feather light kiss on the back of it, “I pushed you away just as much as you did to me. 18 months ago, I was mortified. I was mortified that I couldn’t protect you and I had become just another person who had failed you. I couldn’t defend you and you were left alone, so alone.” Steve sobbed.
“And it turns out I’m doing a pretty shitty job this time around if you ended up alone once again.” Steve’s other hand raised to brush your hair line, “Then you told me that you blamed yourself and God, I resented you for that.”
“I couldn’t fathom that after everything you still found a way to take the fall. So, I did what I do best. I became someone that I wasn’t.” He licked his chapped lips and held his emotions together, resisting the extreme urge to break down completely as your eyes stayed in the back of your head.
“You know that I’d sacrifice the world for you, right?” Steve laughed weakly, “I went into every single crawl knowing that I would happily take the risk of losing myself if it meant that you got to walk away unscathed. That you got to live a life outside Hawkins and live out the dream you always used to tell me. The one where you become a teacher because you can’t help looking out for other people.”
Steve sniffled and smiled weakly, “Those kids made you soft over the years. God, I’m pretending as if they didn’t do the same to me.”
Wiping his tears on the back of his hand, Steve continued, “I don’t understand how someone who’s dealt with endless grief can remain so beautiful in the darkest times. I used to look for your face every-time we went into battle so I could be reminded of the beauty in this world.”
“But in true Harrington style, I self-sabotaged. If I knew I could make you hate me, or anything remotely similar, you wouldn’t have to deal with the grief that would come from me playing hero and protecting you. Because until this is all over, I will continue to do so. I refuse to live in a life where I don’t risk everything in this world to keep you safe.”
Silence suffocated the room, interrupted by Steve’s choked sobs, “So, I need you to come back to me. I still need to tell you about the dream I told you, with the Winnebago, seeing the country with my six little nuggets… You’re there. You’ve always been there.”
Steve closed his eyes and rested his forehead against your own, allowing his tears to slip off his face and etch onto your own. His fingers gripping your hand like a vice, as if he were to let go would mean the world would end. Steve could only hope that Max was right, but doubts lingered in his mind.
What if he said the wrong words? What if he didn’t say enough? Did he say too much? Was any of it relevant if you still remained elsewhere, your mind being tormented as Steve could do nothing but talk to a lifeless figure.
But sometimes, hopes are answered. And Steve Harrington’s was as your hand clenched around his own and your body lurched forwards with a gasp.
max after telling steve to reach the reader and his ass starts yapping about six little nuggets
taglist (holy moly over 100 of u... i'll cry don't even):
you turned into your worst fears and you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain, crossing out the good years!
summary: steve harrington used to be the person you'd go to for anything but after the events of 86', the invisible string between you has been severed beyond repair. after vecna cursed you and max, perhaps luck was on your side as she lay still in hawkins hospital; but was it really luck if you're stuck between dustin and steve at each others throats in the upside down, voicing opinions you thought you could repress for the rest of your life?
warnings: set in s5 but briefly covers previous seasons, angst, loneliness, cursing, mentions of death, steve's a little mean but we cover why in the next part, generally sad reader, angsty-ish ending (for now!), slight change in plot, we love nancy wheeler in this house, 1K word intro / exposure whaaaattt
(this is pure angst i'm sorry (not really) but there will be a part two! ...and maybe part three idk i'm improvising / also i'm pro-yapper so everything is super extended it's becoming an issue lol)
word count: 4.7K
part two,, part three,, part four,, part five
main masterlist
steve harrington x fem!reader
(STRANGER THINGS S5 VOLUME 2 SPOILERS)
𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 'good times' simply solidify the ideology that they’re never coming back. What was once the life you lived freely, unaware of the sheer jealousy your future self would feel, was now only a memory, something you wished you could live vicariously through.
But who could blame a girl for wanting the days where she wasn’t tormented by another being that she had failed, let down everyone she loved and the mere existence of her was at the expense of someone else, someone more innocent and had life behind her eyes.
You’d prefer to say that Hawkins was like living in hell than go down the wormhole of suppressed feelings. And the fact that you couldn’t leave this mess of a town due to the military quarantining you and everyone you wished to avoid, validates your statement that Hawkins had it out for you.
Everyone suffered in the spring of 1986, the group was severed and discovered that everything they thought they knew about the Upside Down was wrong; everything they had already fought was just the beginning.
Over time, everyone moved on. Distanced themselves from the reality they lived out 18 months ago and focused on the now, how they could save Hawkins after Vecna had fulfilled his promise.
But it’s harder to move on when it should’ve been you lying in Hawkins Hospital, heart monitor steady and face pale, your body still as the doctor insisted you were in a coma. You should’ve been sick of the stench of the hospital, annoying everyone that came to visit you as you showed no signs of waking up anytime soon.
It should’ve been your walkman resting on the bedside table, headphones draped loosely around your neck after everyone got fed up of hearing the same song on repeat, binning out the boombox and preferring to have the music reserved for your ears only.
But it wasn’t you. In some twisted reality you called normality, Max Mayfield was the one who suffered the fate that was designed for you.
You visited her often, not only because you babysitted her throughout her childhood and made it known to everyone that she was your favourite of the group, but because your endless guilt forced you to sit in the chair beside her bed, staring at the reminder that you had failed; and everyone around you was too nice to say it to your face.
In the time that you had held Max’s hand with your own clammy palm, you had grown accustomed to seeing Lucas almost every day and muttering the same mantra to his hopeless face: “I’m sorry. I did everything I could.”
And Lucas would interrupt you every time, “Don’t ever be sorry. I’m glad you’re here.”
At least someone could put a soft smile on your face as Hawkins crumbles around you.
You wished you could confide in him but he was still a kid battling with his own issues, high school still relevant as he tried to keep the town from falling apart, the love of his life was unconscious and his best friend had changed severely within the 18 months, much like the rest of you.
One name rang around your mind as you searched for an output, someone you wished you could let in and not feel so alone. But whatever friendship or connection you had with Steve Harrington was in the past, and it seemed adamant to stay there.
Oh, Steve Harrington. The man you would go to for anything, whether that was fighting inter-dimensional creatures or dragging someone along to the movie you had been dying to watch and knew you could convince him with the promise of paying for him; although he would never let you, he preferred to enjoy your company.
You remembered the way he refused to let go of your hand as you ventured below Starcourt Mall and how he promised he would keep you safe as you sat back to back, mind running a million thoughts as you dreaded what the Russians would do to you.
How could you forget when you sat on the bathroom floor, sandwiched in the stalls between Steve and Robin as their words were prompted by the ‘truth serum’. And how Steve admitted that he had fallen in love with someone else after Nancy Wheeler.
Of course, his admission was cut short by Dustin barging into the bathrooms, his posture reeking of stress and urgency, enough to get the three of you on your feet and any further words trapped behind the burning walls of Starcourt Mall.
Then as Vecna forced his way into your lives and targeted you and Max, you felt your sanity snatched out from under your feet and Steve’s hands to support you as you convinced yourself you were losing your mind.
He used to have your walkman and favourite song tucked into the backpack Dustin carried everywhere, refusing to let you leave the house or out of his sight without it in touching distance. You’d tell him that it was manifesting a bad outcome, but he’d scoff and say, “I don’t care. As long as you’re safe.”
To say you were fond of Steve Harrington was an understatement. You had been harbouring a crush on him for a while now, but who didn’t?
How could you not fall for Steve “The Hair” Harrington?
Steve with his perfect hair and handsome face, with a laugh you could recognise anywhere. Perhaps it was the way he looked at you that made it easy to become enamoured with him, how his eyes would soften whenever you spoke up and how even in the darkest times, he would cup your face and make sure the only thing you saw was him.
You could feel the ghost of his hand brush against the small of your back whenever you stood alone in the group as they discussed the crawls, reminding you of the man that now stood on the opposite side of the room to you and how he used to be your anchor back to reality.
You were told good things never last, but you never put Steve Harrington into the category of things you could lose.
You found yourself pushing him away the second Max closed her eyes and they never reopened. The last words Steve spoke directly to you were reassurances whispered into your hair, his arms wrapped around your frame as your body shook from hearing the final chime of the clock, confirming your fears that Max had been cursed one final time.
You shut yourself out from everyone. It was expected, but no one made the effort to drag your past self back to the surface, leaving her drowning in the sorrow that the spring of 86’ provided.
You understood that it shouldn’t be you standing here listening to the group relay ideas for the crawl, it should’ve been a redhead tucked under Lucas’ arm who mocked any stupid ideas that Mike would throw out.
To remove yourself from the equation was easier than accepting that the past cannot be changed.
If your lack of inclusion in the group was the closest you could reach to the fate that was written under your name, then it was what you would conform to. No matter how much it hurts to feel pitying eyes on your form.
"𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋, 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 really promising.” Steve sighed as his flashlight scaled the walls of the lab, falling behind Dustin’s hurried steps.
How you found yourself in the Upside Down’s version of Hawkins Lab with Steve, Nancy, Jonathan and Dustin and tensions high was a question you wished you could say was unanswered. But after driving Steve’s precious beamer into a wall and following Dustin’s throw-in-the-dark idea, your day had already decided to suck.
“We’re in the lobby.” Dustin huffed. If you thought you were outward with your uncomfortable situation with Steve, Dustin made sure he won that argument.
You walked beside Nancy as she furrowed her brows at the surroundings, “And… where are we going exactly?” She tilted her head.
“Right. Like, what is it we’re looking for?” Jonathan asked as he looked at Dustin. “You’ve all seen Return of the Jedi?” Dustin said.
You stumbled to a stop as your heart clenched uncomfortably. You were the one who introduced the franchise to Steve. When he secured his job at Family Video beside you and Robin, you made sure he knew some recent films and found yourselves brushing shoulders on movie nights and watching his brows screw up as he tried to understand the plot.
You felt a pair of eyes burning into the side of your face. “The one with the teddy bears?” Steve mumbled.
“Ewoks.” You and Dustin said in unison, “Yeah, it’s the best one.” Steve responded.
Nancy raised her eyebrows, “Is it?” Dustin scoffed, “No, but every child loves it, so tracks.” You pressed your lips together to prevent a small smile from appearing on your face. Nancy’s eyes flickered to you and noticed, her eyes softening as she watched a glimpse of your past self slip out.
“In the film, if you recall,” Dustin stepped forwards, “the rebels need to destroy a second Death Star, but it’s surrounded by a protective energy shield, which is created by a shield generator.”
“Yeah, cool. Thanks for the summary of a movie we’ve all seen.” Steve’s voice echoed around the lifeless lobby. Of course he remembered the film, despite watching it to satisfy you only, he understood the context to some extent.
“It could be relevant, Steve.” You cleared your throat, eyes glancing his way as he turned around to face you, his expression unreadable.
Dustin nodded in your direction, “Thank you!” He gestured to you before continuing his analogy, “Look, I think this circular flesh wall is Vecna’s version of an energy shield, except it’s not sci-fi.”
“It’s supernatural, created by Vecna’s dark magic. And this dark magic shield is what’s preventing us from reaching him and saving Holly.” You crossed your arms over your chest as the group huddled around Dustin. “But if my math is correct, the generator for the shield has to be in this lab.” He finished.
Jonathan stood between you and Steve, “So if we find this dark magic shield generator…” Even hearing the words come out of someone else’s mouth felt strange, you couldn’t believe you had been roped into this again.
Dustin nodded, “We destroy the wall.” You fiddled with your flashlight, “Find Vecna.”
“Save Holly.” Nancy finished your sentence, her sister being at the forefront of her mind.
“Medals for all.” You offered Dustin a tight smile as his sarcastic enthusiasm had you wanting to find this shield generator as soon as possible, needing to breathe after being suffocated in the uncomfortable tension.
Steve placed his hands on his hips, “And it looks like what?”
“How would you expect me to know that?” Dustin rolled his eyes and turned his back on the group. You let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed your face with your hands, squeezing your eyes shut and hoping that when they reopen, it’ll all be some sick illusion.
Steve scoffed as he watched the tension build in your shoulders, “If you’re gonna complain then you should just leave now. This wasn’t exactly our ideal location.”
You lifted your head and realised Steve’s annoyance was directed at you. Your face screwed up with confusion and your eyes darted between Nancy and Jonathan, “I’m not complaining. Where’d you get that from?”
Steve opened his mouth to retort but Nancy took a step forward to follow in Dustin’s trail, “We don’t have time for this.” She ordered and nodded for you to follow, not seeing her shoot Steve a disappointed gaze.
Jonathan cleared his throat to diffuse the tension, leaving Steve behind the pack and eyes trained on the back of the person he used to call his best friend.
Dustin shouldered the door open and you suppressed a groan when you made eye contact with two flights of stairs. “Up or down?” You asked.
“I say both. Search in two teams. Cover more ground.” Nancy concluded, keeping a tight grip on her bag thrown over her shoulder.
Steve nodded beside you, ignoring the way your shoulders touched in the tight space, “Yeah, that’s cool with me, but can we just switch the teams up?”
Your jaw clenched as you remembered all the times everyone would assume you and Steve were paired together in these situations. You suspected that he would want distance from you but to hear it out loud and under unfortunate circumstances made you want to bash your head into the wall.
“Nance, you and me to go up?” Nancy’s head snapped towards the brunette, her eyes wide, “Oh, I mean…” She shook her head.
“Are you serious?” Jonathan scoffed. You almost laughed at being situated in the middle of Steve and Jonathan as they battled it out for who could be more ‘macho’, as you and Nancy liked to call it.
“Us three,” Steve gestured at you and Dustin, “We need some space.”
Jonathan shrugged, “Fine. How about me and you? Then her and Nance?” You raised your brows, suddenly on board with the pairing options.
“I think we need some space too.” Steve shut down your ideal groups rather quickly.
“So everyone but Nancy. That’s just… It’s convenient.” Jonathan’s voice dropped as he glanced over at you staring at the floor, “I don’t get it. What are you trying to prove to her?” He jutted his thumb out in your direction.
You widened your eyes, “Me?” Steve closed his eyes and shook his head, “This has nothing to do with her.”
“How about this?” You raised your voice, hand rubbing your temple as their bickering started to give you a headache, “I’ll go alone. Three groups will be more beneficial.”
You lifted your flashlight and went to take a step in the other direction, but Nancy’s hand tugging you on the back of your shirt sent you stumbling back and crashing into Steve’s chest.
“You’re not going alone.” Nancy said firmly, refusing to let you out of anyone's sight.
You readjusted your footing and brushed your clothing as you leaned out of Steve’s touch, “Of course you wanted to go alone.” You heard him mutter under his breath.
Before you could respond, Nancy cut you off. “Hey, we don’t have time for this. Let’s just keep it simple, stick to the usual teams.” She shot you an apologetic look.
“Nance, please--” You groaned as Steve and Dustin offered her the same pleas, “I can’t--”
“End of discussion.” She raised her voice, her feet taking her up the stairs and avoiding the three frustrated looks directed at her. Jonathan patted you on the shoulder and whispered an apology under his breath as he brushed past you and followed Nancy, leaving Steve and Dustin to sigh in the wake.
Steve sighed and looked over at Dustin, “Awesome.” He said sarcastically. Dustin raised his brows and dragged his feet down the extensive amount of steps.
Steve turned to you and you looked up at him. You could recall the days when his eyes would soften when they met your own, a smile gracing his flushed face and hands raised to fix his hair, desperate to constantly look his best whenever you saw him.
Now those eyes felt like a void, you couldn’t decipher what he was feeling. “Just awesome.” He repeated and barged your shoulder slightly as he passed you.
You took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders, easing the tension and headache that was brewing. You reminded yourself that this was for the greater of Hawkins because if it was up to you, you would have sprinted out of the lab at the first chance than explore with your ex-best friend and the kid that hates his guts.
With each step you took, you felt the throbbing pain in your head get worse. It wasn’t unusual to get migraines with the stress you found yourself under constantly, but this one felt different.
It felt familiar.
The pain caused you to feel lightheaded, tripping on the last step and forcing a hand out on the wall to catch your fall. You clenched your teeth together and pressed the heel of your hand against your temple.
Steve heard heavy footsteps behind him and turned around, the beam of his flashlight shining right in your face, “You alright?” He asked, voice teetering on edge of concern.
You nodded and stuck a hand out to block the light shining at you, “Yeah, I’m good.” You lied through your teeth, pushing through the ache to follow Dustin who led the pair of you.
Steve nodded slowly and retracted his flashlight, “Okay, that was too many stairs.” He joked weakly, trying to diffuse the worry that flooded his body.
Dustin, unaware of the torment you were experiencing behind him, quoted, “Treasures are always hidden in the deepest depths of the dungeon.”
“What is it, a treasure or a magic shield generator? Keep your metaphors straight, dude.” Steve said as he turned his back on you.
You sighed, “Analogy.” You whispered to yourself, correcting his statement but lacking the care to fight with him once again.
Steve and Dustin strode forward, pushing on the double doors to reveal a room designed for kids. Rainbows were painted on the floors and walls and games were scattered all over the floor.
“Did not expect to find a daycare in this hellhole.” Steve felt his heart rate pick up at the dystopian room, “That’s a perk.”
You entered the room and leaned your back against the wall, eyes squeezing shut as it felt like someone was toying with your brain, prodding at it until you cracked. You didn’t even notice begin to leave the room until his frustration boiled over.
“While I search the rest of the basement, why don’t you stay here and play with your balls?” He chucked the object back at Steve, “Perfect, yeah.” Steve clenched his jaw.
The pair bickered back and forth before Dustin left with a scowl on his face. You leaned over to watch his figure retreating and turned to Steve who hoisted himself up to sit on one of the desks.
You interrupted the silence, “So I take it you two don’t get along anymore.” You crossed your arms over your chest and pushed yourself to stand upright.
Steve scoffed, “What would you know? You haven’t been here.”
Your movement halted, “I’ve been here.” You squinted at him as he rested his elbows on his knees.
“You’ve been here,” Steve gestured to your figure, “But here,” He tapped the side of his head, tongue wedged between his teeth in frustration, “You’re somewhere else. And you have been for the last 18 months.”
Your breathing shallowed, “That’s called grief, Steve. We all go through it.”
“But what are you grieving? That’s what I don’t get.” He snapped, eyes meeting your own as you shrunk under his hard gaze.
“Max.” Her name felt wrong on the tip of her tongue. You refused to say it for months after she was admitted into hospital, the reminder of the redhead had you wanting to hurl on the floor of the lab.
Steve let out a loud laugh, “You’re grieving someone that’s not even dead! What are the chances that Max wakes up during all of this? Pretty damn high if you ask me.” He ran his hand through his hair and watched your face screw up in sheer disgust at his words.
Steve licked his lips, “You know, I think you secretly wanted this.”
You felt your heart stop in your chest, “What?”
You watched the brunette nod, “I think you’ve been spiralling for a while now and used this whole Max and Vecna situation as an excuse. You were barely affected during the curse and now you’ve decided to make it everyone else’s problem.”
The difference is, you were affected. And Steve knew it.
Who was the one who held you as you recalled your first vision, hands shaking and kisses peppered along your hairline. The same man who basically told you that you had it easy that spring, that you’re living off the thrill of being cursed a handful of times.
You turned your back on him, “I’m not doing this right now.” You heard him shout as you pushed the double doors open, “Shutting me out once again!”
You hurried out the room, not baring to stand the sight of his face again. You feel a bile rise in the back of your throat, the noises of the dormant lab suffocate you, and the throbbing pain between your skull intensifies.
You hadn’t noticed anything was wrong until you saw a drop of red stain your sweater. Your head snapped down and tugged at the material to gain a closer look.
Your eyes widened and you lifted your hand to touch under your nose. Retracting your hand, you saw that the tips of your fingers were painted red.
“Shit.” You cursed and tugged the sleeves of your sweater over your hands, wiping the blood that streamed from your nose onto the material.
You furrowed your brows as you racked your brain for the last time your nose decided to spontaneously bleed. It was so out of the ordinary that you couldn’t remember.
A light behind a door caught your eye. It looked out of place, like whatever was behind it was not meant to be there. Your feet carried you towards it before your brain comprehend what was going on.
Just as you placed the palm of your hand against the door, inches away from pushing it open, you heard a loud crash from the room you were previously in.
Your mind running a million different worst case scenarios, you sprinted towards the noise. As you got closer, you heard familiar yells and curses, the sound of items cluttering to the floor made your heart pick up.
Skidding around the corner, you stumbled into the room panting. Your eyes locked onto Steve as he sat up, groaning in pain, “You know what, man? I’m done.” He slowly clambered to his feet, ignoring your worried gaze.
“I’m done!” He shouted and barged against your shoulder as you stood in the doorway, eyes flickering between a beaten Dustin on the floor and Steve who had a fresh bruise forming on his cheek.
Putting two and two together, you tugged Steve back by gripping onto his jacket, “What the fuck just happened?” You raised your voice, on the heels of Steve as he tried to shake off your hold.
“None of your business.” His voice broke as he refused to spare Dustin a second glance, hearing his voice echo down the hallways, “You dumb, fake asshole!”
You let out an exasperated sigh and swallowed your nerves, “I think it’s my business when you scare the shit out of me!” You yanked him to a stop and he looked past you, “Is that a bruise?”
Your fingers gently brushed the underside of Steve’s jaw before he slapped your hand away, “No--” “Did you get in a fight?” You furrowed your brows.
Steve placed his hands on your shoulders, “Can you stop?” His eyes locked onto the blood staining the sleeve of your sweater, furrowing his brows as he wondered when you had gotten hurt.
Through your concern, you failed to hear him, “Tell me what the hell happened--”
“God! You’re so ungrateful!” Steve yelled and you flinched slightly at the tone of voice, one he had never used on you before.
You squinted up at him, “Ungrateful?” You voiced your offence as your hands dropped from tending to his recent wounds, and his own dropped off your shoulders, finding home in gripping his jeans.
Steve bit down on his bottom lip as if what was spewing out of his mouth was the filtered half, “You’re standing here and breathing just fine by yourself! But guess who isn’t?”
Your breath hitched as your mind went to Max who lay still, hooked up to anything the hospital could find to classify her condition to be a coma, “Where are you going with this?” Your voice wavered.
“I’m saying that Max would’ve been grateful.” Steve’s response was enough to sever any chance of redeeming what you had. You could barely recognise the man standing in front of you, the one so overcome with anger that he wouldn’t understand the severity of his words until moments later.
You took a deep breath, “And I’m saying that you’re being a dick.”
“You got lucky that spring and you know it.” You took a step back from him, “You’re being mean, Steve.”
Steve looked down and huffed out a laugh, “And we’ve been telling you this whole time, ‘It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have done anything.’” You felt tears prickle at your eyes, “In my opinion, I think you could’ve done more--”
“Shut up!” You shouted and shoved him in the chest. “And if you hadn't left Max alone that night…”
Tears blurred your vision, “Are you saying that it should’ve been me?”
The silence should’ve been your answer. You should’ve left the second Steve didn’t immediately shut down the ludicrous statement. But your heart yearned to know the truth, to know what he had really thought about you since that night; if everything between you was simply a wrinkle in time, something that was never meant to exist but would ultimately be crushed by the harsh reality.
“Your interpretation. Not mine.” Steve mumbled.
You felt like you had been doused with cold water. It turns out Steve Harrington was the same man he was all those years ago. And to confirm your worst fears, to admit that he’d been lying to you the entire time you thought you could be falling in love with him; this was definitely the worst moment in your entire life.
You nodded weakly, a forced smile etched across your face, “And I’m the one who’s changed, right?”
Your words hit Steve like a truck, and if you disappearing out of his sight with tears cascading down your cheeks didn’t hurt enough, then the realisation of his words did.
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘, 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍, 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 and Dustin had all found each other after. They were hunched over the book Dustin had found before he could warn Nancy to not shoot whatever force they located in the sky.
Nancy chewed on the skin around her thumb, “No sign of her?”
Dustin shook his head after peering around a corner, “I haven’t seen her since…” His voice trailed off as he remembered his fight with Steve, regret forming in the pit of his stomach as a bruise formed on his friend’s cheek.
Steve looked like he could throw up any second. His face was pale and his hair was matted. He hadn’t seen you since he had said the words he wished he could forget, the way he had spoken to you and the way your face crumbled.
He didn’t mean any of it. Not one word.
He wishes to never relive the feeling he felt when he watched you walk away from him, and how he rounded the corner to meet Nancy and Jonathan and you weren’t beside them.
You were alone in the lab. And it was all Steve’s fault.
His ever present guilt was cut off but a guttural scream outside the lab. Nancy rose to her feet immediately and gasped, “What was that?”
Jonathan copied her movement, “What was what?”
Silence fell over the group as they listened in, “Holly.” Nancy whispered and dropped the items in her hand, sprinting towards the door with Jonathan hot on her tail.
Dustin made a move to follow them but Steve grabbed him by the arm, “Holly. She’s out of Vecna’s reach.” His chest tightened.
Dustin furrowed his brows, “What do you mean?”
“There’s 12 kids. If Holly’s out…” Steve muttered and Dustin’s eyes widened in realisation.
“Who’s in?” Dustin’s voice wavered and watched Steve’s eyes dart around the room.
Steve knew who Vecna was targeting the second his suspicions were confirmed. He remembered the blood staining the sleeve of your sweater, the headaches that made you feel dizzy and the way you looked uncomfortable the second you found yourself in the Upside Down.
You were Vecna’s next target and Steve Harrington had no idea where you were.
