#and then to have them on a copy of Dorian Gray??? the narcissist of the millenia???? my favourite classic???? UNREAL

[chaosciara]

latest update on my portrait of dorian gray collection

[slashingdisneypasta]

Freddy Krueger x Reader || Oneshot

Title: Mr Krueger. 

Note: EverythingsFine!AU. Freddy isn’t a pedophile or a killer or a demon. But he is divorced and you’re legal(24, to be safe). 

Plot: Basically, you had a crush on your best friends father when you were 17, and 7 years later you’re over it… but will it come back with a passion when he develops certain feelings for the new, adult you? 

A mix of humour, creepiness and scandal. 

Warnings: Some course and suggestive language. But nothing too bad, haha. 

~~~

“Honey, I’m home!~” I call, unlocking the front door to Kathy’s apartment, have trouble opening the old, slightly jammed door, and take off my scarf and jacket for the hallways coat stand to hold onto once I’ve infiltrated the best friends campus residence. “And guess what?”

“Sweetheart, you’re home! What? Quickly, I’m in the middle of a caffeinated psychotherapy paper rush.”

“Oh, well then I’ll just tell you later no worries.” I giggle, walking down the short hallway and following her voice to the kitchen. She’s been procrastinating this paper since she was issued it as homework so who am I to ruin her burst? We can talk about the wonderful thing later. I have a couple hours, anyway.

When I reach the kitchen a second later, I’m both shocked and a teensy bit feeling the obligatory murderous glare I send to Kathy. Sitting beside her is her father eating a bowl of my fruit loops, and I had no idea he was here! You’re a wonderful friend, Kath, really. Jeez.

Mr Krueger- Freddy? Fred? Rick? What’s the protocol for when you have to address your childhood friends’ father once you’re an adult? I’m going to stick to Mr Krueger. Anyway, he grins and waives. “Welcome home ‘sweetheart’~”

After sending Kathy the short glare and getting a quick, embarrassed and surprised apologetic look back like she completely forgot he was there in the first place, before she faces her laptop again, I flash him a grin back, settling into a more formal, ‘Talking to the friend’s parent’ mode. Which he weirdly doesn’t seem to have tapped into him himself. “Hi, Mr Krueger. What’s up?”

“I just came to visit my precious heir, but she’s not paying any attention to me.”

“Busy!” Kathy waives a dismissive hand at her father for half a second, really focused on her work. Mr Krueger holds a hand to his chest, making a mockery of pain and sending me a ‘secret’ conspirator look at the end, before I open the fridge and turn away from them both, silently laughing. I have always liked her Dad, as he was the cool parent, out of all of the Springwood high parental community, but its still awkward having him here. Seeing as the wierdo, 17-year-old me had a creepy crush on the bloke.

Luckily now, I guess, I’m a grown woman and have grown out of such things and can act less like a retard around him. I guess. He is still a parent, which means I have to try and be a stand-up role model for her daughter.

Pfft.

“So, what’s the news??” I nearly lose my grip on the bottle of orange juice I’m pulling out of the fridge door when he pipes up about what I said to Kathy when I first got in. Ohhh, he heard that? Right… When I turn around and get to the bench with the orange juice and a cup, I have the humility to look a little guilty in response. Obviously, Mr Krueger catches on to my hesitation and tilts his head, looking awfully mischievous. “Was I not supposed to hear that?”

Oh, gee, let me think…

“No, it’s okay… “I laugh nervously and, in my mind, send another evil glare at Kathy. Outwardly though I just poor juice. Just pour juice. “I just, um… “Thinking, frantically, I try to come up with something roll model-ish to say… but come up with nil. I sigh. “I was excited, because… Mr Krueger, I… Uh… have a date tonight… “I’m bright red! I wants even bright red when I asked the boy out today! What’s wrong with me, I’m a grown ass adult and I can tell Mr Krueger something this simple! I can say whatever I like to him, actually! I could tell him to fuck himself if I wanted! Not that I do, but I have a point!

Among all this confused inner dialogue, I nearly miss the confused slash surprisedly unhappy look on Mr Krueger’s features. He opens his mouth to say something negative, then closes it back up. Thinks for a moment, then opens it again. This time sounds come out. “… you can call me Freddy now.”

Oh… not what I expected.

I guess he’s confused about the new dynamic, too. “Oh… alright then.” Awkwardly, we’re all in silence for a moment. I have the excuse of drinking juice, ‘Freddy’ looks deep in thought, and Kathy is of course silent because she’s furiously typing on her laptop. Honestly, getting lost watching her, there should be smoke coming from her fingers. Then I come back to the present and hold up the orange juice bottle just as he picks up the fruit loops box.

“Orange juice?

“Want some?”

Another silence, as we both turn and instead look wide eyed at our own stupidity to the floor. Kathy sighs, shoulders dropping out of exasperation. She talks, but she’s still looking at her laptop. Is she… editing while talking?? Her intelligence scares me. “You’re both awkward as hell. What’s wrong with you?”

Honestly, I have no idea. “There’s no awkwardness! None at all, right Freddy?” God, that sounded weird. Even worse than ‘Mr Krueger’.

“Exactly, Y/N and I are old friends. I’ve just had a long day, need to take a nap.” He bullshits, smiling brightly at his daughter. She seems to by it… and turns her accusatory gaze from her computer to me. Oh, dear.

“Okay, well. Y/N, if this is about your old crush then get over it. You don’t have it anymore so stop freaking out. Now, I’ve gotta fact check this so I’m headed to the library. See you later, have fun at your date. Bye Dad.”

My jaw drops, gaping wide and I’m sure humorously, watching as she shuts off her laptop and gets off the bar stool at the bench and Freddy grins even brighter and opens his arms wide for a hug from her. She just gives him a quick peck on the cheek and leaves for her room.

“I will have fun but you’re a terrible friend!!” I call after her. “I hope you know that!”

“Acknowledged!” She calls back, infuriatingly.

“Well that’s it, she’s not getting any juice.” I mutter, twisting the cap onto the bottle and simultaneously avoiding looking at Mr Krueger. Which, I’ve decided, he’ll stay as. He shall always be ‘Mr Krueger’, to me.

Not even a moment passes before he moves from his stool to the one Kathy was just in, right in front of me and in my view. Quickly I look up at his face- less embarrassing then his chest I guess.

“Don’t be embarrassed sweetheart, I’m a spectacular specimen. I don’t blame you.” He grins wide, 2 parts cheeky and 3 parts narcissistic. A set him with an unsettled, borderline amused look for a moment…

Then roll my eyes and turn to put the orange juice away. “Uhuh.” Once I’m done with that, I decide that I’ve been embarrassed enough for this particular conversation and bid him goodbye, going for my room to get ready for my date later.

Minutes later, the sound of the door opening, shutting and locking signals both their exits and I’m left to calm down and relax in my room for an hour. I shan’t go on my date all stressed out.

Then I shower and get dressed. It’s still another hour before Toby will come and pick me up here, so I decide to leave the confines of my room and watch some TV.

This is the point in which I nearly have a stroke. When you’re an attractive, unarmed young woman and see an unnamed man on the couch, that is what may happen! Who the hell is in my apartment?!?! Toby shouldn’t be here until 7 and he wouldn’t just let himself in!! He couldn’t!!! The door is locked!! What the fuck!!!

Just as I’m turning in my place, wondering if I can get to the kitchen island and get a knife without alerting the strange man of my presence, I do a double take and then realise who it is. And verbalise my shock. “What the fuck Mr Krueger?! I thought you left!”

Mr Krueger, who’s sprawled on the couch like he lives here, a cup on tea on the coffee table-no coaster,- and a book from the shelf under the TV over his face, as I guess he was dozing, picks up the book a peaks over the top of it. “Evidently, you were wrong.”

“NO.” I draw it out, sarcastically. No, I was wrong?? Really?? Here I was thinking you were an illusion.

“Unless this happens often, you seeing me here on the couch when your all alone… “I Still can’t see most of his face due to the paperback copy of Dorian Gray over his face but is that a twinkle if mischief in his eyes???

I set him with a deadpanned look and walk around him on the couch to the armchair. “Very funny, sir, but I’m not ashamed of myself. I was 17, and it was better then falling for Bundy like everyone else. Now get your shoes off my couch, that’s a good couch.” I pick up the remote off the coffee table and curl up on the couch as he chuckles and does as he’s told, sitting up. “So, are you waiting around for Kathy?? She’ll be a while, you know her. She’s your kid.”

“Yeah, I do know that.” Some more chuckles escape him, something clearly amusing to him but when I look at him he isn’t looking at me anymore, rather the TV that has flickered to life, showing Tom and Jerry. “But, she isn’t a kid anymore for the record. Neither are you.”

I don’t really respond to that, just settle in to enjoy Tom and Jerry’s adventures. Thinking, did he answer my question??

An episode ends, and we’ve started a steady conversation. Its nice. He’s always been funny, kind of a wordsmith. The way he strings words together is pretty creative, and makes me want to talk more interestingly, too. He does have a tendency that of course I never noticed before due to being a kid though, of overusing the word ‘bitch’. His humour also tends to extend mostly to overused dad jokes and R-rated things… not that I’m minorly freaking out at all. No. Not at all, I’m just surprised!

And slightly in awe.

And a little crushing.

But its okay to revisit old crushes a little, right? Not like anything will come of it, I’m still quite anxiously awaiting my hot date with Toby White. He’s so pretty, with his messy died blue hair, and equally as sexy blue eyes.

Mr Krueger has blue eyes too, doesn’t he?

No! Nooo, revisiting is one thing. But just remove this from your real life -the one where you enjoy your date and hopefully have Toby become your college boyfriend, - and just minorly enjoy this before moving on forever.

Before you know it, many more episodes have passed, and you were just enjoying yourself way too much to notice. Mr Krueger’s grin is in equal parts mischievous infectious. “Ah! Toby will be here in 10 minutes!” I exclaim, glancing at the clock on the wall and casually pulling your hair up into a messy ponytail with your hands, before letting it all back down onto your shoulders and down your back. Honestly, I’m less excited then I thought I’d be. Its nice talking to Freddy!

“Ten minutes? Come on, you’re not giving him any room to be fashionably late?” Woah, what was that?? That rumbly thing he’s done with his voice? That was… uh… surprisingly pleasant. I look wide eyed at him for a moment, lips glued shut, and surprised at my traitorous reaction to it more then anything. That’s new. I’ve never heard that before! His smirk grows- because that’s what it is, now. Not a grin, not a smile. A dirty, meaningful, devilish smirk. And it hits home. All the feelings from 7 years ago come back in a hot flush.

Cautiously, I start. Start what? I don’t know. Tell him to stop it? I’m self-aware enough to know I don’t want him to do that, absolutely not, but are you willing to risk everything you would be risking, to act on acknowledging that?? “Sir… “

“Ah, good, good! You’re on the right path. Now can you say ‘Daddy’?”

At that, I gape. How bold can he be?!! There’s no interpreting that as anything other then a come on. As he gets up, and the seconds tick away to when Toby would arrive I inwardly panic. What is he doing??! Why is he coming here?? What do I do?? Tell him to stop!

I’m, and all my senses are swallowed up by his dark eyes when he reaches his destination-my armchair, - and puts his hands on either arm, leaning down to be comfortably close to my face. “Now, see here, you have a choice. Do you want to go and eat dinner with your husband material coming up the stairs now, or you can stay and be a whore with me.”

That ‘me’ carries some serious wait, here. Some serious, scale tipping weight.

My hands move on their own and fit themselves to the spans of his shoulders. This dark, dirty, taboo crush has never been so tangible.

He tilts his head. “Tick tock.”

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Without hesitation, I sit up closer to him and hold a finger in front of my mouth.

“Don’t let him hear.”