The moment the sun
shined through your window, Stiles’ eyes flickered adjusting to the light. It
was only five am, but he needed to wake up early, to spend as much time with
you as possible. His eyes traveled over to the lingering three suitcases, your
life packed away in them. Your walls were a bare pink, and they taunted him.
A/N: This is at least six months from Peace, the first part of this imagine. I wanted to include Richie getting everyone together and the reader being a little bit of a badass and I’m just hoping it did not backfire on me! I hope you enjoy! xx EDIT: I edited it this morning and hopefully fixed something’s and improved the imagine all together. Enjoy!
Unsettled, uneasy, uncomfortable. Since you woke up, those where the three emotions that consumed your body. Your whole body was tense and your anxiety ran wild with thoughts. Throughout the day you felt unsettled butterflies in your stomach, an uneasy feeling set deep in your chest, your bottom lip raw from the nibbling you had done to it all day, your legs tired from the consistent bouncing. Richie had been gone since early that morning for work, so you really did not bother him with it, but when you got to work and it still continued, you became concerned. You were typically bubbly and carefree, feeling the way you had been today simply was not in your nature. It felt as if attention to you and not to mention the whole office could tell that something was wrong, some would ask if you were ok and some would simply remind you to stop bouncing your legs.
It felt like you could not get back home fast enough when you were finally off the clock, but it did not make you feel at ease. Your constant inducement of the day was, ‘Just stay calm,” but that made you anything but calm. Walking into the house, you take note in how eerily silent it is. Your eyes dart around the room, the uneasy feeling finally went away, only to be replaced with dread. You took a deep breath as you walked further into the house slowly, “Y/N.” It was slight, you almost missed it, but it was Richie. His voice sounded choked and rough, it was followed but a cough that was louder than his words.
Your feet began to move on their own accord and you sprinted through the house towards Richie’s voice as it turned from a quiet tone to a blood curling yell in pain. Your feet slid across the hardwood floor as you stopped at the threshold of the master bedroom, a scream ripped through your throat as your eyes settled on the mangled figure in the middle of the bed. Black curls matted down, glasses thrown across the room and shattered, the floors and walls splattered with blood and muscle, the smell of blood filled the room, and lifeless doe, brown eyes stared back at you. From his throat down to his waist has been ripped open and his insides were falling out around him, his body hanging off the bed and his arms falling by his head and blood ran from his mouth to his hair and pooled on the floor below his head. “Richie!” Your voice came out in a strangled sob as you fell back into the hallway, your head spinning as your back hit a small table and knocked it over before the wall and you fell to your knees, the shattered glass from the lamp on the table surrounded your body. The fear and pain that had set in was too overwhelming for your body as you gagged back vomit. The cackling laugh brought you back into reality, your eyes snapped up to see a clown in the corner of the room covered in blood as it drooled from its lips. With a loud step toward you, a devilish grin rose to his face as your eyes widened. Your eyes quickly darted to Richie’s body when your name left his lips once more, like it was letting out its last breath. A sob escaped your lips and before you could face the clown again, It was in your face and roughly forcing you to face him. The initial shock was now gone and fear consumed you, ‘I’m not going down without a fight.’ Your hand grasped a piece of glass beside you and slammed it into it’s head, it knocked It back enough for you to jump up and sprint. It was a matter of seconds before you were grabbed roughly by your throat and pushed against the wall.
He leaned forward and inhaled deeply near your neck and you let out a loud, ear piercing scream, “You all taste so much better when you’re afraid.” He growled out before he slammed your head back into the wall.
Once Richie got home and found the evidence of your struggle and the inconspicuous message on the wall, it did not take long for him to realize what took you and where it took you to. Despite the feeling of marching by himself to get you, he knew he could not do it alone.
So, one by one, he made his way to each of the losers house. Bill was first, he was going to be the easiest to convince. Eddie was next and with a little push from Bill and himself, he caved in. Stan was a little harder to budge, honestly Richie did not blame him, if it were not for the fact that Y/N was taken, Richie would have to be convinced just like the others. Eventually Stan budged, caving in over his fondness of Y/N and the desperation in Richie’s voice. Mike pretty much came willingly, and even with a pleading call and an agreement to wait for them, Ben and Beverly came to help as well.
The car ride to the Neibolt house was silent except for light mummers. Eddie gave Richie’s arm a light pat, “We’ll get her back, man. She’ll be alright.” Richie nodded, despite not being religious, he silently prayed.
The distant sound of water drops hitting water pulled you from unconsciousness, your face was pressed against damp cement, your head sore from how roughly you were dropped to the ground and from having your head slammed into the wall. Your eyes opened, you were surrounded by blood and water, hence the damp cement, but the pools of blood in front of you were too much to just be yours. Slowly, you lifted your head and your eyes took in your surroundings. Multiple sewers connected in the walls, the tall ceiling that you assumed lead to a road in Derry, and a mountain of… stuff, and lastly the kids that were in the air. In a distant memory, you could hear Richie’s voice, ‘You’ll float too.’ That was what that phrase meant. Your stomach dropped.
Pushing yourself off the ground, you looked around and tried to remain as silent as possible. A well like structure was off the the far left, you could see familiar fiery red hair and golden eyes staring at you from over the edge. Panic set in as you backed further away from the well, It quickly flung itself out of the well, “Where do you think you’re going?” The malicious tone in its voice made you feel sick as a dark and twisted laugh escaped its lips, “That’s right, be scared.” It charged at you once again, your body immediately took off in the opposite direction towards a sewer, you released a loud scream in hopes that someone, anyone, would hear you. You threw yourself into a sewer, not glancing behind you as you scrambled to your feet, sprinting through the gray water. Your calls for help turned into another piercing scream as your ankle was drug from underneath you, your body falling into the water as you were pulled out of the sewer and thrown against a nearby wall. Your head swam in dizziness as your body hit the ground, a groan of pain escaped your throat as you were roughly flipped onto your back. Your eyes stared up into its eyes as it’s mouth unhinged, widening and exposing multiple rows of teeth to you. Your breath hitched, fear consuming you as it came closer, before your eyes snapped away from it as echoes filled the room. “Richie!” You screamed as loud as you could, “Richie, I’m in here!”
After a few seconds, “Get the fuck off of my girl, you piece of shit!” Richie’s voice echoed through the room. It’s head snapped up from yours and glared at the group with a twisted grin, you were lifted up then slammed back into the ground and the air was knocked out of you. Dots filled your vision as footsteps echoed through the room and a mixture of voices, Richie’s threatening voice broke through, “I’ll fucking kill you,” before Stan’s face filled your vision. You closed your eyes with a loud groan as he took off his over shirt and tore the material and put pressure on your head. You were sure at this point that you had to have a concussion. Everything drowned together and your opened your eyes to Stan yelling over you before standing and running. You forced your body over as you looked over to see Eddie and Bill on the ground, Mike and Ben hitting it with their weapons, and Stan helping Beverly up a few feet from you. Richie was hunched over as he panted, his face contorted in pain as his arms wobbled as he tried to get up, but his arms gave out. Anger flashed through you, so you mustered up enough strength to roll over onto your stomach and you landed on a baseball bat. Your hand grasped the baseball bat, that you put together that it may have been Stan’s, before you drug yourself a little before you rose to your legs unsteadily. “Hey, jackass.” All heads snapped towards you, you swallowed your fear, “Let’s finish this.” You were not totally defenseless and the others were down, they needed time, time you could buy them.
It’s face twisted as it made its way toward you and you could hear Richie’s voice saying, “No.” As it crept closer, It’s face began morphing into Richie’s, the same blood splattered face that you saw in your house, his lifeless body, you froze, “Y/N, it’s ok! It’s not real!” Bill called, It’s face snapped towards him. You shook off the shock and twisted the bat in your hand, making it twirl, “Listen here, prick.” His face snapped at yours as you yelled out him, walking confidently to him, with one last twirl you grasped the grip, “You fucked with the wrong person!” You leaned back on your dominant leg and swung with your torso, putting your ass into the swing and hit its face full force. It stumbled back as you gave the bat another twirl before hitting it in the face, “That’s for Richie.” You growled out as you glared at it, bat pulled back and ready to swing again. The two hits were enough to buy the others time to get their senses back and your third hit was enough to knock it back, but It’s leg kicked out and tripped you. You landed on your butt with a grunt and Richie grabbed you from behind and drug you away from It as it retreated into the well, the others hot on its trail. “No! No! Damnit!” Bill cursed and threw the iron rod onto the ground once It fully disappeared into the well.
Richie pulled you back into his arms and held you close and quickly took off his shirt to put pressure on your head. You turned to face him, your eyes took him in. His curly hair stuck to his face due to the water and sweat, a few cuts covered his face, and a black eye was bringing to form on his right eye. You gently held his cheeks in your palms as you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against his lips, “Thank you.” You whispered quietly, you shook the memory of Richie laying dead away as you looked at him, “I wasn’t going to let that fucking clown take my girl.”
As Eddie and Stan were wrapping your head injuries, you were introduced to Ben, Beverly, and Mike and everyone tried to make sense as to why It returned twenty-one years early. When the group began making it’s way through the sewers Richie slowly helped you walk, as the others tried to lighten the humor with talking about how they ‘totally kicked it’s ass’. Your fingers intertwined with Richie’s and gave his hand a light squeeze. Eddie fell back once you were out of the Barren’s and walking to Richie’s car, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder’s, “You were so badass, Y/N. I’m glad you’re ok.”
Richie chuckled and kissed the side of your head as he opened the door and the other piled in, “She is a badass. My badass.” You gave a smile as Eddie helped you climb in before climbing in beside you, letting you sit next to Richie.
A mixture of conversations filled the car on the way back to yours and Richie’s house to patch everyone up, your head rested on Richie’s shoulder as you held one of his right hand in yours. A feeling of calmness filled your chest as you pressed a kiss to Richie’s shoulder before joining in on the conversation with a happy laugh. You knew things were going to be different now, Richie will be more protective, he’ll stand closer to you, have his arms wrapped around you more securely, and he will not be at ease when you are not with him. You are prepared for it, it will be a healing process for the both of you, but as long as you had each other, it will give you both some peace.
You adjust the visor, trying to protect you
face from the sun. It’s so bright it looks like the green of the grass turned
into a mat shade of yellow.
“Remember to keep your arms steady but your
hips a little loose.”
“Yes. Oh, and don’t use your palm, try to grab
it with your fingers.” Jumin instructs
you, watching intently as you focus and wiggle your hips. “Very good. Now hit
You two watch as the ball falls down a curve
and rolls slowly till it stops very far from the hole.
“Not bad for a beginner.”
“Too bad for such a critical teacher like you,
going all soft on me.” You both chuckle and he narrow his eyes at you.
“I don’t expect you to be a great golf player
in your first try. But… if the matter is softness, I can always be tougher on
“How so?” you smirk teasingly, and he comes
“I can show you no mercy and take that ball to
the hole in less than 3 putts.” He says, adjusting his position and preparing
to do his move. You two watch as the ball he putted flies way further than
“Well played, I must admit. But what a coward,
showing no mercy on this poor beginner…” you pout. And he laughs, wrapping an
arm around you and bringing you closer.
“I suppose you can say I’m trying to show off a
little. Now, your turn. Do it like you did before.”
You go to the ball, repositioning yourself the
way Jumin taught you. But before you try to putt, you feel his arms covering
yours, and his chest pressing against your back. He places a hand in your
“Remember to keep your legs in a parallel position.”
His hands go on top of yours, gripping your fingers along the club. “Focus, MC…
and… hit it.” He leads your movements, like the two of you are one player. “Very
“Thanks. I… think I got it, you can let me go
now.” You say wiggling your shoulder when you feel his chin leaning on it.
“Hum… I think I can provide much
better lessons if we stay like this.” He leans his chin on your shoulder, and
you both chuckle. “One more time, but slower now.”
“One more time, faster now, MC.” Seven moves backwards
while your left hand hits his right, you begin a sequel of strikes. Left,
right, left, right, crossed left! “Good girl! Faster!” you repeat the sequel of
movements. “Now kick!”
“Isn’t this boxing?”
“Well, yeah… but neither of us are professional
boxers, so give me a kick!” you kick his left hand. “Good girl! That was
You lean your hands on your knees, panting and
letting the sweat droplets fall from your hair, then you look at Seven, who offers
you his squeezer of water, that instead of taking a sip, you use it to splash
water on your face as you sit on the mat, panting heavily. Seven sits beside
you and you both chuckle breathlessly.
“Whew… I’m pretty rusty too, huh?” he says,
plopping in the mat. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m pretty good, actually.”
“Yeah, I knew you would. Sometimes all we need
is to punch some stuff to release stress.”
“Yes, when you call me to invite me to some
sparring, I… have no idea it was exactly what I needed… I… been saying this too
much lately, but thanks, Seven.”
“It’s fine. So… how are things with the
internship?” should you mention what happened to Jumin the other day? Nah, it
would look like you’re complaining and whining, and you don’t want to sound
ungrateful to the guy who got you this internship, in the first place.
“Is Jumin giving you a hard time?”
“Don’t talk about Jumin, Seven.” You don’t really
need other people to remind you of him, last days have been filled with thoughts
of him. Sweet memories like the golf lesson alternating to when you two left, with
you leaving his office and fighting your tears. Maybe there was a time you
actually considered nothing of that was real, you weren’t in love for him, you
were just pretending to Care for him in order to help somebody who desperately needed love and
understanding, but… no, you’ve loved him. You still do, matter of fact. And how
do you know that? Because of the fucking memories of the golf lesson, and how
you would give everything to go back to those days.
Jumin knows there’s no turning back. Not on
what you’ve done, and definitely not on what he said the last time you saw each
other. He wasn’t fine with any of this, but if there was a little glimpse of
comfort, it was on the fact he was pretty sure you were a cold woman acting
like he was an unsatisfied client breaking a contract with you. But apparently,
you were hurt too, as much as he was. And this pain is killing him, what could
it have been doing to you?
He replayed that last arguing so much in his
mind it’s giving him a headache. Your shocked eyes when he asked you about
paying for the wedding dress with your filthy money. A filthy money you were
willing to give up on when you two would get married. Ugh… you really were
studying the exact moment to tell him about the domming ordeal, weren’t you?
What on his actions could have possibly made you hold back for so long?
Elizabeth the 3rd finds
her way to his lap, and he caresses her softly, rubbing her ears gently like
you used to do. And though Jumin knows now she’s just a cat, she can’t know how
complicated things got, he swears she’s suffering too and missing you,or what
you pretended to be in front of them… maybe you weren’t pretending? You were
really scared of his reaction? But he was changing for you, wasn’t he really
worthy of, at least, the benefit of the doubt? Were you worthy of the benefit
of the doubt? Ugh… see? Too many complicated thoughts a cat could never
understand. Not even he understands, he just misses… the old days. And there’s
no turning back.
“Zen would be a good power sub, don’t you
agree?” he asks as you jab his hand again.
“Oh my God… no, we’re not doing this, Seven!”
“Ah, come on! Don’t tell me you’ve never
thought of us from this point of view…”
“I haven’t. I’m a professional, I would never
take this out of the privates of my dungeon. But… I… thought how it would be if
I tell the other RFA members about it.”
“Oh… yeah, that’s interesting too. But Zen
being the power sub he probably is… would consider paying for a session after
he finds out.”
“Oh… not trying to be a bitch, but Zen needs to
get top notch roles in at least 3 or 4 musicals to afford one of my sessions…”
“Oh wow! If it is like this to Zen, just
imagine to our poor little M Yoosung. Boy will never make his fantasies come
“Yeah. Guess there are only two people in this
group able to afford it, but one of them hates me and the other one is his best
friend, who probably hates me as well.”
“What about me? I’m rich too!”
“Oh… and are you interested in one of my
sessions, Seven?” you smirk, and he scratches the back of his head, blushing. “Kinky
pervert!” you hit him lightly on his arm. “And here I was thinking you were a
good catholic boy, tsk tsk…”
“You don’t know anything about me, MC.” He says,
holding your wrist. “And if I may say, that’s the problem with people in your
field, you label people too much.”
“No, the publicity field. Aren’t you getting a
degree in publicity?” he smirks, Oh… what was the last time somebody remembered
about this other job? Well, probably was with Jumin, but… “You label people in
order to put them in groups so you’ll know to who you sell it, correct? Well,
there are those people who you can’t really predict their patterns.”
“And you are one of those people?”
“Maybe. In the publicity and in the BDSM field.
So… watch out for what you’re trying to sell it, you’ll never know if I want to
buy it, at least not in the conditions you’re offering me.” Is he… is he
flirting? Nah, it’s Seven! He can’t be really flirting at such a witty and provocative
way, he’s too goofy for this, isn’t he?
“And what would be your conditions, then?” you
place your hands on your hips.
“Hum… I’m not sure if I should talk about this
when you’re still hooked on… Elly’s owner.”
“I’m not hooked on Jumin!” shit! You said his
“Are you sure?” he asks, and you don’t really
want to answer, so you start jabbing him again. Left, right, left, right,
crossed left, uppercut, knock out. He falls with his back on the mat.
“Oh my God, Seven! I’m so sorry! I… I lost
control, I…” once again, here you are hurting someone who has nothing to do
with this just because one particular name has been brought up. It happened
with your sub that time, and now it happened to your friend. How come Jumin has
so much power over you even when he’s not around? “Ugh, I’m so stupid, I…
Seven?” he looks at you and wipes the little trail of blood rolling from his
upper lip to his chin, then he smiles.
“You have a good left.” He chuckles but
immediately winces at the pain.
“Here, let me help you with your glasses.” You hold
his arm and help him shift to a sitting position, taking his glasses off the mat
and putting in his face.
He holds your wrist again, but not to stop you
like he did before, is more like… he’s pulling you closer. His other hand holds
your forearm as he brings his face closer to yours. Then you just feel the
taste of the blood from his lips in your own, invading your mouth to be
vanished by his tongue. He was flirting with you, here’s your answer, and it’s
coming in the form of a very steamy kiss.
“Seven? I…” he kneels before you without breaking
the kiss wrapping his arms around your waist. And you try to make a motion to
pull him away placing a hand in his shoulder, but as he trails his lips down
your jaw and nips it, whimpering, your hand balls into a fist, grasping his
shirt as you let out a low moan.
Before you even know, he makes you straddle him
and bites your neck, you tighten the grip on his hair, moaning. His hand slips
to inside your shorts as his mouth reaches the cleavage of your top.
“Shhh… let yourself go, MC. When was the last
time you had fun? No fighting for power, no worries about being in
charge, just… having… fun?” he asks as he brushes the fabric of your underwear
aside and slip one finger inside you, making you arch your back in response.
“I… nnnng, I…” you interrupt yourself taking
your mouth to meet his again, sucking in the wound on his lip, making him
whimper in pain and pleasure as his finger moves to your clit, drawing circles.
Seven swallows each one of your moans, dwelling in the feelings you’re
spreading to his whole body. And when you palm his erection and make him lay on his back, you know there is no turning back on what’s about to happen.
The two of you ended in your bed that
afternoon. Now both of you staring at the ceiling. What is he thinking? You’ve
always knew this was a very regular question when it comes to him, but right
now, this is the first time you actually want an answer. What is he thinking?
What are you thinking?
Right now? You’re thinking about his question.
When was the last time you fucked for fun? No restrictions, no worries about
losing control, just embracing who you are and how you truly feel? Well, it
probably was a rhetorical question when it left Seven’s lips, but you actually
had an answer:
It was after the golfing lesson, it was with…
“Jumin?” you ask, watching his name popping in
the screen of your phone. “He is… he is calling me.”
“Aren’t you gonna answer?” Seven asks. Another
great question coming from him today.
Who’s a terrible person? I’m a terrible person! It’s not personal, guys, it’s angst! Try not to hate me too much ;p