Siren Song (Yandere Freddy X Blind Reader)

Part Fourteen

(This chapter isn't particularly smutty. It's implied like it has been before- Freddy can't get his mind out of the gutter- but things will probably escalate, and fast.)

Bonnie still looked sickly, seated on the edge of the stage, his hands unsteady. Beside him, Chica was just as quiet, biting her orange lip and unsure what to say. The awful catastrophe they'd had to clean in the kitchen...

Blood had been everywhere. Freddy had taken your brother by the head and slammed him face-first against the metal counter. Repeatedly. The skull- or what remained of it- had cracked open and spilled the contents onto the tiled floor.

No wonder Bonnie had lost everything he'd ever eaten from the past month.

Foxy paced in front of them, hand clutching the bridge of his nose, eye squeezed shut in thought.

The bear had gone off the deep end. Further than that, if it were possible; he'd taken such extreme measures to rid himself of the poor boy... and for what? You?

True, they all considered you a friend. Perhaps something closer to family. But Freddy... he revered you. Placed you on such a high pedestal in his mind that he thought no one could touch you.

Not so long as he was there.

But why? Because he was your favorite? Because he relished the fact that he could win your attention when no one else could approach you?

Or had the bear actually fallen in love and the feeling had mixed with that need for your affection? With his pride that he'd taught you to sing in the first place?

Bonnie was sullen, knowing that Freddy had originally tried to push you onto him instead. The bunny and the bear were best friends, after all; Freddy wanted the guitarist a chance for a little happiness. For the kind of attention he didn't get otherwise. Not from the kids, no... he'd long ago realized he was solidly at the bottom of the popularity pool.

But you wanted Freddy. You always wanted Freddy. Perhaps you were partially to blame for the sudden attachment, though unintentionally.

But he'd taken it much too far.

Foxy was certain you, wherever he'd taken you, were safe. Their leader wouldn't dream of harming you, much preferring to prevent others from touching you. To stop them from even coming near, like your very possessive, very lovesick bodyguard.

But the very fact that he'd hidden you still worried the others. And the fact that, perhaps, Freddy would never recover from this.

Not when the very thought of you made him weak, Chica could attest to that fact. Being human only partially didn't stop them from feeling the full effects, and that included love.

And, clearly, lust.

Maybe if the bear hadn't gone so far in his mind to totally lose his sense of self, the love he felt would have been normal. Sweet and attentive, adoring, even. But it ran too deep and hit him too hard. For God's sake, he could hardly stand to touch you!

Foxy stopped his pacing, and the other two looked up simultaneously. "I admit, I ain't quite sure what t' do. She be in no danger, we all know that. But the Captain..."

"He's stubborn and sick in the head. I don't... I don't think he'll come back," Chica murmured, her voice breaking just a touch. Foxy immediately went to her side, laying her head against his chest and stroking the feathery hair at the back of her head.

"Freddy goes and steals a girl I like, and you two are sitting here cuddling. I see how it is," Bonnie cut in, though with a good-natured smile.

They let go, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry, lad. Instinct." The pirate rubbed his chin a bit. "... now, this may be a bit of a shock to th' two of ye, but... I may have an idea." They waited, patiently, for the fox to put the right words together. "I think we be needin' to wait. The lass needs t' break it off with 'im on her own. Be painful, aye, but... it may snap the ol' bear out of his reverie."

A few moments went by before Bonnie finally answered, "No. I... I don't think it'll work that smooth. Breaking his heart might just make him snap, yeah, but he might lash out on her. Or on himself."

Chica looked up, eyes wide. "Suicide? But Freddy wouldn't..."

"He might."

"Then it be outta th' question." The pirate ran a hand down his face, groaning. "This be too delicate a situation if we want t' save 'em both."

"But we can't just leave it alone!" the chicken cried out. "I don't think she's in much danger but if Freddy doesn't snap himself out of this, he..."

"... he'll kill them both," Bonnie finished for her, deadpan.

*****

For now, Freddy was positive that if he'd died, in this very moment, he'd have died in total happiness.

You lie on your back, singing softly as he so gently begged you to, unable to see the bear beside you, propped up on one elbow, watching you. Seeing your lips move smoothly over each word.

That weakness ran down to his feet, and thank Fredbear he was already lying down. But the same weak feeling started something else. Something far more urgent and impatient inside the bear.

He wanted your voice, yes, but... he wanted your touch just as badly, he realized.

Secretly, he'd always thought that, if he were ever to fall in love, that he would take charge in the relationship. He was a gentleman, and it was his duty to see to it that his partner was happy.

But you... oh, no, it wasn't so simple. He wanted to take charge, yet he wanted you to take charge of him. To force him to his knees and worship you, which he would have done gladly. Did he consider himself a pushover? Far from it. But when the slightest brush against his skin sent his mind into a spiral, the craving worsened.

'I. Can't. Take. This.'

Placing a finger to your lips, Freddy hushed you in an instant. "F... Freddy?" you questioned, "Is everything okay? Was I off key?"

Off key! He wanted to laugh; from you there was no such thing as a poor performance.

But how could he tell you that he wanted you to touch him, to just place your hands anywhere, even just on his chest, so he could feel that shiver down his spine? The bear's throat nearly gave him away, stopping the moan before it could escape.

'Somehow... just... please... I...'

"Freddy?"

"Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

He had to. He couldn't take it. Taking your wrists, he brought your hands to his neck, feeling the warmth emanating from your flesh, his eyes closing and reveling in the chills that went through his body. Falling onto his back, he brought you with him, not quite on top but close by, holding your hands to his neck for a few seconds longer.

'Perhaps I'll have to take charge after all,' he reasoned, tugging his bow tie loose until it slipped off.

Taking charge was putting it lightly. He would tell you exactly where to touch him.