#i know it looks scary on paper but actually you should always get it

[aetherose]

The Solution To All Problems Is Crimson Weave

[boxingcleverrr]

Popular Hades & Persephone "retellings" are, rightly, getting dunked on all over the socials right now and, as a Pagan who has an altar to the Queen, I could not be happier. But also, I feel like a lot of people miss WHY they're bad - aside from just plain bad writing and lazy tropes. Which are, yeah, also REALLY bad.

Pretty much all retellings try to wave away, or excuse, or twist the whole kidnapping bit. And I actually do have sympathy and understanding for why, when speaking from a modern perspective.

But honestly...you gotta get over it. There are other stories to play fix-it with, not this one.

The Abduction is The Thing.

Were I a little more sober I could bring up chapter and verse of the Hymn to Demeter but frankly, if you know even the middle school mythology curriculum version of the story, you SHOULD know the themes. The story of Persephone was one mothers and daughters in the ancient world held dear, because it was a reality: you will, one day, be swept away from your home to go cleave to a man you most likely know nothing about. You will miss your mother, but chances are very good that he will be a good husband, once you get to know him, certainly better than Zeus or Ares, and he will make you a queen of his home.

Leaving home to marry was often scary, and violent (look up the history of the tradition of Bridesmaids, if you don't already know it - they were originally decoys on the marriage road). Centuries later we'd have tales like Beauty & The Beast serving the same function: comfort, hope, you are leaving your safe loving home to figure life out with a (often older, powerful) stranger. Your trauma over this sudden ending of your childhood made manifest in a Beast, or a God of The Underworld.

It's wonderful that we don't NEED stories like this anymore to comfort us (here, at least, in this culture). But if you try to force them into modern vernacular it just will not work, not really, because you're gutting out the whole point just to have a more tidy romantic male hero.

I have read MANY very good ...novelizations? fanfic(? however you would frame them, but they're certainly not "retellings"), etc. that simply take advantage of the blank spaces in the myth, and there are many!

It's not explicit that sexual assault happens - "The Rape of Persephone" as a title was coined in much earlier eras, when the word was just as often used to simply refer to abduction.

"She was starving!" the gods didn't need to eat. So it's easy to read her eating the Pom seeds as a deliberate choice on her part. Like, shit, people, scholars have written whole papers on the symbolism of this moment, between marriage rites and even yeah, Seph choosing both worlds with her husband's knowing consent.

And that, I think, is the real heart of the thing. People want an utterly mundane, spelled-out story here, as opposed to what it really is, has always been, just like any other myth or religious parable: IT'S A METAPHOOOOOOR.

They don't need to be destined, or meet at a goddamned BALL and then CONSPIRE to fake her kidnapping, or shit, I once saw one where Hades got MIND CONTROLLED by Zeus?! Jesus.

Persephone was yoinked into the Underworld against her will.

That's how it went.

I don't mean this in a "stay out of my belief system!" way, shit I'm a white American chick with delusions of witchery. I mean this in a "stop stressing yourself out trying to make things palatable" way:

This is a very real, very precious myth to many people, BECAUSE for at least that one event, Persephone had no autonomy, BECAUSE for thousands of years most women had no autonomy. Erasing that, sanitizing the fact that a girl is ripped out of the spring, from her mother's arms, is erasing the thing that gave comfort to women for centuries. And people can and should still find power and healing in it now!

Fill in the blanks the story leaves in whatever manner seems fit to you, there's plenty of room, but. Come the fuck on.

[thewonandonly]

BE MY MISTAKE

PLAYLIST : spotify

PAIRING : ghostface!lee jeno (nct) x afab!reader

GENRE : horror/thriller(?), fluff, smut, angst (hurtfic)

SYNOPSIS : "happy halloween! time to play one giant insensitive prank on you like the popular movie franchise "stab!" lol it'll be funny dw"

WC : 12,670 words

WARNINGS : heavily based on the scream franchise. established relationship, strong language, jeno = billy and reader = sydney essentially, jeno and reader have sexy time with the mask on, oral (f. receiving), p-in-v sex, cunnilingus, dirty talk, um premeditation 😀, no happy ending. guys this is literally about a (fictional) murderer. there is a chasing scene. think scary movie 1 in the theater but more, like, serious.

AUTHOR'S NOTE : happy october :3 when you really think about it, isn't halloween time everyday? here's something i actually worked on bc im insane. also, there's a bit of an inconsistency with the writing; i said jeno already got tickets but obvi theyre seeing it at the theater party. i was already 3/4 of the way done writing it when i remembered so pls just ignore it plsplspls i beg. as always, please let me know if i forgot any warnings <3

DISCLAIMER : the characters in this story are to be allusions to real people, and none of the situations, personalities, and actions found here should reflect reality. i do not believe in any of the problematic actions displayed and mentioned. this story was created with zero intention to violate the images of the artists.

It was October, which meant another "Stab!" movie was going to be released within due time, which also meant, everyone was going to harp on about the events that happened last year; that happen every year. The "Stab!" movies that got rereleased in theaters every year for a week were really... not all that good, in your (unprofessional) opinion. They were poorly made "based-on-a-true-story" movies that influenced a worldwide prank across the world that caused a lot of actual real world deaths and trauma. But, your boyfriend, a film student, thought it was one of the best movies ever made! You remember you both started dating around this time almost three years ago and seeing the rerelease of the 1997 slasher film was quite unexpected. You didn't even know it existed until that time, when Jeno, your boyfriend, excitedly asked you out on that first date to see it.

You could remember your boyfriend shoveling buckets and tubs of popcorn into his mouth as you could barely stomach the thought of Sidney Prescott being harassed for years, decades. Your own judgement was being questioned that night and you ignored it.

Sitting at your laptop in the library, you let out a deep and long sigh as you stared at the blank word document. Given it was October and you were a criminal history student, it was only natural that you were given the assignment on criminal offenses that happened during the Halloween season. And of course, the first thing that popped up into your head was the Woodsboro Murders, after all the rewatches over the last year. The tabs open on your computer about the crime significantly slowed down your laptop that you were willing to opt for the books that rested on the library shelves.

And if it wasn't the cherry on top of your already obnoxious day, your computer crashed. Meaning, browsing the aisles for any information about your subject and writing the information down the classic "pen-to-paper" way was the only way you were going to get your work done, which was probably a blessing in disguise, considering you knew how easily you could get distracted.

You dropped your head to your hands, letting out a sigh before you lifted your head, your laptop slamming shut.

"I wanna play a game." Your boyfriend spoke in a sinister voice as he looked at you, holding a Billy the Puppet mask from the Saw films over his face, before he pulled it down to smile at you.

You sighed again, packing up the laptop, "Not funny." You grumbled.

Jeno laughed, turning his wrist to look at the mask, "What? Who doesn't love Billy the Puppet?"

You glanced at Jeno through your lashes and zipped up the bag you had, before walking over to the Windows Vista desktop your university refused to update and searched up your keyword: "Woodsboro." And you hoped your boyfriend wouldn't peek over your shoulder and-

"Woodsboro?" He perked up and looked at your face, "Are you studying about it?" He began to overload you with questions; "Why are you studying it?" or "How far are you along?" or "Can I help you with whatever you're studying this for?"

You couldn't blame him, you really couldn't. He was like a puppy who just found a stick in the yard. You knew that if you even slightly mentioned "Stab!" or the murders, you'd have to deal with your boyfriend bouncing off the walls. You were surprised he never decided to join your criminal history class, purely based on the fact he was the most knowledgeable person about the subject that you knew.

You looked at the top three recommended books, and erased the search from the results, wandering down to the section of the library. Jeno followed close behind. "It's for my criminal history class." Was all you said.

"I can help you!" He chuckled.

You stopped right at the final section pulling out the book titled "The Woodboro Murders" by Gale Weathers. It was a best seller, apparently, if the bright red font at the top of the book wasn't enough to tell you that. You held it in your arm before you pulled the second book out and placed in on top of the other. "Jeno, I know you're excited to help but it's history. This isn't some trashy movie about slashers."

Jeno winced as you criticized his favorite movie, holding his hand to his chest, "Come on, baby, you know I know better than anyone about this stuff." He smiled, "I can help you. I don't know just the trashy horror movie stuff. I know the psychology and the science behind it."

You attempted to walk away, but Jeno quickly pulled you back to smile at you, the Billy the Puppet mask still lingering in his hand.

Jeno was always handsome, and he knew it too. If there wasn't multiple times he was able to win you over with just his looks, you'd be lying. So, when he looks at you with his soft smile, and his soft eyes, you begin to fall all over again. You take in his features; the mole that sits under his right eye, his nose, how beautiful his eyes looked.

Fuck, you swore to yourself, here we go again. "Fine, you can help me." You almost grumbled. Almost. "But, I'm not using the movie as a source." You pointed at him, "Everything we include has to be in any of these books or reliable sources on the internet."

Jeno held his hands up once more, chuckling, "I got it. I got it. Consider the existence of Stab completely erased from my mind from this moment forward."

"Good." You continued down the middle of the book shelves, grabbing another book, your boyfriend following close behind, his hands brushing against the spine of the books.

Jeno perked up, "Hey, we've got a few days before our anniversary. I was thinking we could go see that rerelease on the day of."

You glanced at him once more, "I really need to keep a counter of how often you mention that movie."

As much as you hated the movie, and it's effects after the release, it was like you were reliving your first date with him. Last year, you guys went to the same theater, ordered the same snacks — a large popcorn with extra butter, gummy candy and one large soda you both shared — and you both were lucky to get the same exact seats as your first date. And you hoped that you could relive that day over and over again.

You glanced at Jeno, tilting your head to the side, "You already have the tickets, huh?" You asked.

"Yup." Jeno rummaged through his pockets and pulled out the tickets to show you, throwing his arm over your shoulder, "Same auditorium; same seats."

You smiled to yourself. Sure, he could tick you off mentioning "Stab!" ten to twelve times a day, but... you loved him. He was your boyfriend. And the attention to detail he always had was admirable.

You pecked his cheek, making his smile grow even wider, feeling your chest tighten as you admired his features silently once again, holding the books in your arm as you ran your fingers through his hair.

He was annoying, but he was also sweet. And he was all your own.

After a long and grueling study session, cramped hands, and an overwhelming amount of information that you weren't even aware of, it was now officially 8pm, and the university library was closing for the night, the librarian grabbing the books off your desk to add to the cart of growing stock. Despite Jeno's promise, he continued to cross reference "Stab!" while he read pieces from Gale Weathers' book. You swore, you couldn't get through a paragraph before your boyfriend said, "I remember that in the movie."

The sheet of paper that held your precious grade was zipped up into your bag, kept nice and neat in between your laptop and your textbook. Jeno held your hand as he walked you through the dark sidewalk down the University Road, where your shared apartment was located. Jeno and you have lived together since the second semester started in the last week of August.

The co-ed dorm you two lived in was fairly small — one floor and only 17 dorm rooms. It also happened to be the first place you met Jeno. Jeno originally stayed in the dorm room across from your own, which is the current one you both stayed in now. You remember him peeking out of his dorm room door with nothing on but a pair of grey sweatpants, shouting something at his friends as they ran down the hallway. You later found out they were his dorm mates — Mark and Donghyuck. When you stepped into the room, the striking contrast between the two sides of the room was nauseating. Jeno had action figures, replicas and movie posters decorating his side; something every movie buff held proud. Your side was almost empty. You barely had any decorations on the wall and the only decorated area was your desk. It wasn't much, but it was home, at least for now.

When the door to the room opened, you let out a sigh, kicking off your shoes and dropping your bag on the couch, you fell onto your tiny dorm bed. "Finally, nap time." You mumble.

Jeno set his own items down and sighed, "You should relax for now and then we'll pick up where we left off."

You had a routine of coming home from either work or school; kick off shoes, set stuff down, nap. It was the same every single day. Jeno had a very opposite routine. He always kept his slippers on, he neatly placed his items beside his desk and then he sat down, and watched a movie off his scratch away chart of the one hundred highest rated movies of all time.

Yet, today, he seemed to be in a different mood. He hung up the Billy the Puppet mask next to the plethora of other horror movie icons, before his hand brushed along his prized possession, the killer from the Woodsboro murders. It was a little odd that his favorite mask would be one from actual real life cases, but you know it wasn't because of that. It was because of "Stab!" but, you know if you try to explain that to someone, they'd just give you a dirty look and silently judge you, or more rather, your boyfriend. Maybe a little bit of you, as well, for trying so hard to defend your boyfriend.

Grabbing the mask of the infamous double killers, Jeno pulled it over his head, looking at you through the mesh eyeholes, crawling his way across the impromptu king bed, leaning close over your shoulder as you laid on your stomach. The smooth pvc plastic and the polyester fiber brushed against your skin, and you turned your head to look at him. "What do you think you're doing?" You asked with a bite.

Jeno shrugged, "I don't know. Aren't girls into this type of stuff?" He whispered through the mask, slowly lifting it over his head to look at you, "I thought girls were into the, like, masked guys and shit."

You scoffed, laying on your hand, "Some girls. And I don't think it's actual killers they're into."

Jeno shrugged, pulling the mask down once more, running his hands against your shoulders, his thumbs rubbing against your shoulder blades, "I don't know. I've seen some people into some pretty messed up guys."

You rolled your eyes again, "Some people are into that stuff." You shrugged, turning your head to the side as he ran his hands over your skin, "Fuck, I don't know, Jen. I hardly even know if I like my school major."

"Fine, fine." He scoffed, "But you don't even wanna try it with the mask on once?"

You rolled your eyes, "Take the mask off, Jeno."

Jeno sighed, pulling the mask off before tossing it to his side of the makeshift bed, "You don't even wanna spice up our sex life a little bit?"

You rolled over so you were on your back, his legs straddling your hips in some type of sick power play. He looks amazing up there, you thought. Your fingers traced the curve of his thighs, "I think our sex life is perfectly fine, if you ask me." You shrugged playfully, "Maybe some other time?"

Jeno groaned, "You're ruining this marriage." He responded sarcastically, "It's someone else, isn't it?" He crossed his arms.

"Yes, oh, my god, I completely forgot I was having sex with your manager from the theater." You gasped.

"With Jaehyun?" Jeon gasped, "I don't blame you. How'd you pull him?" Much to your dismay, he climbed off from on top of you, laying his head on your shoulder as you both laid down.

You shrugged, "You know, same way I pulled you."

Jeno rolled his eyes, "Okay, quit it. I'm actually starting to think you're fucking Jaehyun." He grumbled, "Speaking of Jaehyun, the Halloween Party. Are we going or what?"

"Yeah, sure. We have nothing else going on." You sighed, "I'd much rather go to a Halloween party at the theater than here at one of the sororities or frats." You rolled onto your side so you were facing Jeno, smiling sweetly.

"Sounds like a plan to me." He gave a dorky smile, "We could probably even skip the date night and just go to the party."

"You don't wanna see the movie?" You mumbled, "Wait, let me guess..." You cleared your throat, putting on your best "Jeno" voice, "They're actually showing Stab for the party, oh my god!"

"I don't sound like that."

"Um, actually, you do." You teased, nudging his shoulder. "Did I get it right?"

Jeno chuckled, shrugging, "It's the theatre's most popular re-releases. So, for them to close down early just so we can watch the movie for a party is pretty amazing." He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, "Plus, Halloween is our anniversary. It can be a two-in-one celebration."

"I guess you're right." You mumbled, "Pretty amazing." You repeated, fighting back a yawn, "I'm sleepy." You whispered as you curled up close to Jeno, smiling to yourself as you feel him cup the back of your knee to bring your leg over his hip.

His fingers brushed against the skin of your cheek, laying his head on top of yours, something he normally did when you'd nap so you had complete darkness, "Go to sleep, babe. I'll be here when you wake up." He whispered in your ear, barely above a whisper.

Your heart fluttered at his soft voice, feeling yourself already starting to drift to sleep, relishing in the feeling of his fingers brushing against your skin, his other hand pinned against the bed as it was wrapped around your back and placed on your hip. While you pinned his arm down to keep him from moving, he had your head pinned down with his own. It was your preferred cuddling position; your own pretzel twist.

You woke up hours after you had fell asleep to a loud clatter from the window behind you. Jeno was no where to be seen, and you immediately tensed up at the sound. Laying perfectly still as if you were still sleeping, you didn't dare attempt to put your life on the line.

Oh, god, you thought, is this really happening right now? Your mind began to race with a million different thoughts, "I don't wanna end up on Cold Case Files," and "I don't want to go out this way."

"Shit." You heard in a familiar voice, turning around to see your boyfriend climbing in through the window.

You sat up straight, "Jeno?" You called out through your gravely and sleepy voice, squinting your eyes as your boyfriend shined the flashlight from his phone in your eyes, your hand shooting up to block the light from your eyes, "What are you doing?"

Jeno pointed to the door, "Locked myself out." He grumbled, stumbling as he finished climbing through the window, quickly bending down as a metal jingling echoed between the two of you.

You just glanced as Jeno quickly shoved the keys into his sweater pocket, too tired to care, "Hm..." You hummed as you laid back, "If you went out with Mark and Jaemin, I don't mind." You sighed.

Jeno chuckled as he made his way around the room to set down his items, "Heh, you caught me." He rubbed his neck, climbing into the bed beside you once more, "I snuck out an hour and a half ago to go out and eat."

You could tell he was just as tired as you were a few hours ago, but he was forcing himself awake, "What'd you guys eat?"

"Meat." Jeno shrugged, "Nothing exciting. You know those two." He buried his face further into the pillow, his eyes closing, "Did you sleep well, baby?"

You nodded, "Yeah." It's all you said, reaching your hand up to brush some of his hair from his eyes, your thumb brushing against his cheek, "As much as I'd love to stay here and cuddle, I should get that paper done."

Jeno hummed, peeking an eye open, "Did you want any help?"

Your heart warmed at the question; not because he asked, because he was willing to help you even though he was tired, "No," You whispered softly as you took into consideration his restlessness, shaking your head, "No, baby. Just rest. I can handle it." You placed a chaste kiss to his neck, slowly sitting up. You grabbed a plush blanket to wrap around your shoulders, making your way to your desk as you pushed yourself off the bed.

This was normally how you and Jeno both functioned; one was awake at the crack of dawn and asleep by 9pm, the other was asleep until noon and up until 3 in the morning. It's a miracle that the two of you found a way to be with one another.

Sitting at your desk, pulling out your Holy Grail of a assignment and set it neatly on the top, opening your laptop to look at the screen as you slowly booted it up. Seemed to be running fine, so you decided it should be okay to use, even if you had to keep it plugged in. The previous document saved just how you left it — empty and barren. You didn't even have a sentence on the screen.

Maybe technology wasn't the right move for schoolwork, you thought to yourself as you compared the two forms of documentation. The sheet of paper was a little more than halfway filled, and although the pen ink smudged from your hand swiping across the paper, it still looked pretty damn good. Compared to the digital sister, the paper seemed like the one who had everything all together.

You decided to pick up where you left off on the sheet of paper, using your laptop for music and the pdf of the books you used earlier open on each tab.

You looked up from the paper, squinting your eyes as you looked at the laptop screen, highlighting the words with the cursor.

"That's interesting." You titled your head to the side, reading the line of text in your head.

"Sydney Prescott was unaware at the moment, but she noticed when the killer attacked, her boyfriend, Billy Loomis, and his best friend, Stuart "Stu" Macher were no where to be seen."

The line made you uncomfortable, shifting in your seat at the thought, clearing your throat as you read the line over and over again. Gale Weathers then goes on to describe how significant it is that Sydney Prescott should've realized, but then again, you sympathized with Sydney. After all, she loved Billy.

God forbid Jeno did something like that, you'd probably have to be thrown into an asylum.

You decided procrastination was the best option for the evening, using the pen as a paperweight and closed the laptop screen. You stood up from the desk and sighed, scooting over to the bed before laying down beside the sleeping Jeno.

Despite your previous nap, you laid your head down on the pillow and felt yourself falling asleep.

That evening, you thought about Jeno and your upcoming date night/Halloween party. You opened your eyes through the night, glancing over to check on your boyfriend, going as far to adjust the blanket over his shoulder and brush hair from his eyes to just make sure it wasn't an illusion.

God, you just wished he wasn't a maniac like Billy Loomis.

Despite your best efforts to go to bed at an early time, you tossed and turned, you shivered, your legs grew restless. And then the sun peeked in through your window, and you only glared. 7 in the morning and you were awake even before your boyfriend. Your eyes burned from the lack of sleep and you couldn't help yourself but to curse the sun as it extended across the skyline. You sat up slowly from the bed, looking wistfully out the window of your dorm room, the blanket covering your legs.

The thoughts you had in the back of your mind from a few hours before still lingered in your head, because it's entirely possible for something like that to happen. It's entirely possible for a significant other to go off the bend and be a crazed murderer. And it's entirely possible that it can be the person you share a bed with.

You sighed softly as you pushed the thought away and stood from the bed, the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. You trudged along to the bathroom inside your dorm room, shutting the door behind you as you looked into the mirror. The eyebags were a dark grey, your eyes blood shot and your eyelids hung low. You looked like death to put it simply, and you felt it.

Turning on the sink and grabbing your toothbrush, you squeezed a glob of toothpaste onto your toothbrush and began to brush your teeth. Although, you were sure you weren't really brushing as you felt your eyes struggle to open every time you blinked, your grip on the brush weakening every time your eyes weighed closed.

The bathroom door opened and Jeno stepped inside, placing a kiss on the side of your head, "Morning, baby." He whispered, grabbing his own toothbrush, "Stayed up all night again?"

You looked at him through the mirror, shaking your head before rinsing out your mouth, "No." You mumbled, clearly half asleep, "I was, like, half asleep, half awake the whole night."

Jeno chuckled, brushing his teeth, "You get anything else done on the paper?"

"Yeah, I got a lot done." You nodded, setting the toothbrush back in the drawer you kept it in, stepping off to the side, "There was a lot I learned."

"It's interesting, right?" He spit out a glob of toothpaste, scraping his tongue before starting to brush his teeth once more, leaning on his hand against the bathroom counter.

"Yeah. I didn't know it was that complex..." You mumbled, "Do you have work today?"

Jeno rinsed out his mouth, sighing, "Yeah, baby, I do." He placed his toothbrush next to yours, looking at you with a faux pout, "Unfortunately."

You nodded, pressing a small kiss to his lips, "Well, I'll be here when you get off." You grabbed his hands, squeezing them, "You should probably get ready to go."

Jeno chuckled, kissing your lips again, "You want me to go that badly?" He teased, "You inviting Jaehyun over or something?"

You laughed, "No. Just don't want you to be late."

Jeno's hands rested on your hips, smiling, "Don't worry about that." He kissed you again, lifting you in his arms to sit you on the bathroom counter, his hands brushing against your thighs, "I have plenty of time."

You pulled away from the kiss, smiling, "Do you though? You still have to shower, get dressed, and put gas in the car. Or were you just gonna make me pay for it again?" You teased, climbing off the counter, "Take your shower." You stepped out the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

Jeno wasn't always the most punctual, which can be frustrating to you and to his co-workers. You wouldn't necessarily blame him, but you would blame his distractions. He has a lot on his plate; school, work, your relationship. He still needed to purchase a camera for his film class. He tries to act like it doesn't bother him, but you know on nights where he stays up a little later than usual, he's dwelling on it.

You sat down at your desk, trying to distract yourself from the exhaustion you felt by watching youtube videos your professor recommended and switching between that and writing your paper. Jeno stepped out from the bathroom and you felt the heat from the shower push into the room, and you smelt his conditioner in the air as he quickly got dressed for work.

"I'll be back later, baby." He pressed a kiss to your cheek, "Don't wait up, alright? Take a nap or something." He ran his fingers through your hair, and you turned to look at him.

"I hope you have a good day at work." You kissed his lips, smiling softly as he turned to walk out the door, "Why do you have that mask with you?"

Jeno paused, turning to look at his bag, "Chenle doesn't think it's an actual replica, so he said he wants to check it out on our break." He sighed, pushing his hair back with his hand, "I'll see you later baby." He smiled, stepping out the door and closed it behind him.

"Okay." You whispered, listening as his keys made a metallic sound down the hallway and the hydraulic door hinge squeaking as it closed shut.

Ever since last night, you actually sat down and read Gale Weathers' book, collecting the information from her eyes. Sure, she had a pretty shallow standpoint from it; This wasn't her trauma to write about. But, it was still pretty interesting as she pieced things together.

You were at least 5 chapters in, hunched over your laptop as you read, anxiously nibbling on your nails as Gale describes the beginning of the stressful months that were ready to approach them. Until, your phone rings. Of course it rings. First time you've actually read a book instead of skimmed the pages in months. You unlocked your phone, answering the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Y/N, it's Jaehyun." You could hear the popcorn machine popping behind him, "Jeno's manager from the cinema."

You chuckled, "I know who you are." You smiled to yourself, wondering if Jaehyun even knew the running joke that you and your boyfriend had; prevailing him as a God, "What's up, Jaehyun?"

"Well, Jeno's running a bit late. It's nearly been an hour and I haven't gotten a call or a text or anything from him." Jaehyun's voice shrunk, "Is he there?"

"No, no, he left a while ago. I thought he was heading to work." You put Jaehyun on speaker phone, immediately clicking the Find My app, scrolling to find Jeno, "I'm looking at his location right now and it says no location found." You mumbled.

"Alright, well, I'll try to give him a call or two. You should try, too. He might have had something happen to the car." Jaehyun spoke, "Just let me know. You have my number, right?"

"Yeah, I do." You mumbled, "I'll call him right now and let you know what's up." You quickly hung up and called your boyfriend.

Okay, he had awful sense of time and he wasn't punctual in the slightest but he's never been this late to work, especially when it helps him pay his bills and pay for that new camera he needed. You pressed the phone to your ear before it immediately was sent to voicemail with the automated voice telling you what you already knew: The number you have dialed cannot be reached at this time.

Seriously? You scratched the back of your head, setting your laptop to the side as you leaned against your elbows. There was one way to find him, something that he never left the dorm without.

You opened the Find My app once more, and scrolled to his AirPods. Or more rather, your AirPods that he's borrowed more than you used after you got them. If he opened them recently, you would've been able to find where exactly he was. So you did just that.

But, much to your dismay, he hasn't opened them since the night before, his location still reading as the restaurant he went to last night with Mark and Jaemin.

You called Jaehyun back, "He didn't answer the phone and I tried to see if I could see where he was from the AirPods he used, but no use."

Jaehyun sighed, "Alright, thank you, Y/N." He mumbled, "I hope he'll be able to get off the hook for this. He better have a damn good excuse."

"I hope he does." You whispered, "Sorry I wasn't much help, Jaehyun."

"Don't worry about it, Y/N. You did more work than I did." He gave a small "goodbye" and hung up the phone.

You really hoped he had an explanation for what's going on. You weren't the type of person to immediately jump to conclusions, saying that he cheated. You don't think he's stupid enough to pull something like that.

You sighed, laying your head down on the desk as you drowned in your thoughts, feeling the exhaustion take over your body as laid there.

There it was again. A clatter from the window being forcefully pulled up. You immediately perked up, the drowsiness from the nap you don't remember taking stuck to your body. Your back hurt from being hunched over the desk where you napped.

You leaned back in your chair to peek over at the window, ignoring your back begging for a little bit of leisure after you slept like a ball for the past 4 hours. It was a little after 11 o'clock, 18 minutes before it turned noon.

Standing from your desk, you approached the window and looked out the glass, shocked to find nothing, or no one. Just the dying bushes planted by the school's agricultural center, and some fucked up tanbark that kept the moisture in the dirt.

"Hey, baby."

You jumped, turning to find your boyfriend standing behind you with his prized possession covering his face. "Jesus christ, Jen." You swore, pushing at his shoulder, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Got sent home." He shrugged, lifting the mask from his face with a smile, "The car ended up breaking down, my phone died and I had to walk 4 miles down the road to get there.” He dropped his bag on the footboard bench at the end of the bed frame, setting the mask on top of it.

"Jen, you really gotta start going to work in time." You sighed, "What if you get fired?"

"Come on, baby, it's just a part-time job." He chuckled, pulling you closer to him, "I can find something else."

"Fuck, Jen, do you know how bad that'll look if they call the theater and they have to tell them you're unreliable for calling out or for showing up late?" You ranted, letting go of his hands, "You know I can't afford to pay for this dorm by myself, let alone my school payments."

"Jeez, babe, relax." He chuckled, "Come on, why don't you take some of that aggression out another way?"

"Jeno," You sighed.

"Y/N," He responded, "When's the last time you and I had nasty, angry sex, huh?" He chuckled, grabbing your hands again, "I miss you, baby." He whispered, pulling you into a tight hug, squeezing you.

You hated to admit you missed it, too. Especially when you were this annoyed with Jeno, you hated that this was turning you on, listening to him talk about it.

"Come on, baby." He whispered in your ear, guiding your hand to the bulge in his pants, "Seeing you all angry gets me worked up, baby, I can't help it."

"Jeno." You rubbed him through his pants, "Jen,"

"Hm?" He pressed open mouthed kisses to your neck, his hands brushing against your skin in a desperate attempt to soothe his thoughts.

"Please, baby, just listen to me for 3 seconds."

Jeno pulled away from kissing your neck, humming, "Okay, okay, I'm listening."

"Tomorrow, you're going into work and you're gonna be on time, with your phone charged and everything." You cupped his cheek, "I don't want you to lose your job because you're late."

"Okay, mistress." He teased, "You've have a little dominatrix hidden, don't you?" Jeno kissed at your cheeks, as he cupped them.

"Stop making it sexual."

He chuckled, "I can't help it, baby. I romanticize everything you do, babe." He whispered gently before he kissed you, sitting you down on the mattress of the bed, "It's cute seeing you act all tough and strict." He kissed at your skin, pressing you down against the mattress, straddling your hips.

His tongue brushed against your neck as he kissed you, his hands pushing your shirt over your head, letting your hands rest on his thighs.

Jeno pulled away from kissing at your neck, smiling down at you, "Do we have any condoms left?"

You sat up, looking at the bedside table, "Probably in the drawer."

Jeno crawled off of you to rummage through the drawer, clicking his tongue, "Damn." He mumbled, flitting through papers before he let out an exclamation, pulling out the foiled packaging from between the pages. "Got it."

"I knew you'd find it." You smiled, gasping as he pulled you closer to him on the edge of the bed by your ankles, watching him kneel down.

"Mmhmm," He hummed, pulling your bottoms down your legs, his lips kissing at your legs, "So pretty." He whispered, teasingly biting at your thigh, "Wanna taste you, baby."

You chuckled, running your fingers through his hair, watching Jeno's finger tangle in the waistband of your panties.

"That okay, baby?" He whispered breathlessly, his lips swollen from kissing at your legs.

You nodded, "That's fine, baby."

Jeno smiled, pulling your bottoms and underwear down your legs, kissing up your legs, his lips hovering over your cunt and his breath fanning against your wetness, "Fuck, you're already wet, baby?" Jeno's thumb rubbed at your clit, licking his lips.

"Jen..."

Chuckling, Jeno smiled, flattening his tongue against your cunt, moaning lightly as you drooled against his tongue, "Fuck, baby..."

You moaned sharply, your fingers tightening on his hair, "Jeno..."

Jeno smiled, kissing at your pussy as he continued to lick at your clit, his fingers slowly pressing into your entrance, pumping his fingers into you, "So tight, baby. So sweet." He groans, "You're so perfect, princess."

You gasped as his fingers brushed against your gummy wall, curling his fingers as his lips kissed your hip, a weak moan escaping your throat.

Jeno listened to your moans as he continued to pump his fingers inside you, sucking your clit and tasting you on his tongue. How sweet you tasted, how your slick drooled from the length of his fingers to knuckles, and how amazing your gasps and moans sounded to his ears; Like music, a symphony. If he could listen to your sounds on repeat, he would, over and over and over. He couldn't get enough, he wanted more, wanted you.

Giving a teasing peck to your slit, Jeno kissed your hip, your stomach and up your body until he stopped at your neck, taking in your scent as he struggled to unbuckle the belt he wore with his work pants. "Little help?"

You chuckled, running your fingers through his hair once more before you moved your hands down to unbuckle his belt, the echo of the buckle settling around you both, letting Jeno's lips meet your own in a desperate kiss, his tongue pushing between to rub against yours, a deep growl escaping his throat as your thumbs hooked around his bottoms, helplessly attempting to tug them down his legs. Parting from your lips, Jeno gave a breathy chuckle, his breath fanning against your face. He grabbed the condom he set down on the bedside table, keeping his eyes torn from your own for no less than a second.

Tearing it open with his teeth, Jeno gently pulled the rubber from the packaging, rolling it along his length, “Fuckin’ finally.” He whispered to himself, “I missed feeling you." He pressed kissed along your jawline, listening to the gasp leave your lips as he slowly pressed into you. "Shit, you feel so good." He whispered.

Jeno slowly started moving, and you've been thinking — actually thinking about something he mentioned that you couldn't possibly know if it was a joke or if he was serious. You dug your nails into his arm, “Wait.”

His hips immediately stilled, and he looked down at you, “You okay, baby?”

You cleared your throat shyly, “I’m fine, I just—”

“What is it?” He chuckled, brushing hair behind your ear, “You can tell me, princess.”

You couldn’t believe you were saying this, and you couldn’t even believe you were considering it. But, you can’t knock something until you try it, “I was thinking we could try it with… the mask on…” You love looking at Jeno when you were having sex. You love seeing his expressions, looking into his eyes as he was buried into you and you loved watching his brows furrow together as he gets closer to cumming. But, there was something alluring behind the idea of the mask. Almost like it was a mystery to how he’s feeling. It was sounding more exciting as every second passed. And, you could see just how excited Jeno was as he reached over to where he set the mask down, smiling at you as he pulled it on. Attempting to move, you rested your hand on his chest, “Ah, first, some ground rules.”

Jeno moved the mask to the side, his eye peeking at you, “All ears.”

“First, keep the freaky murders out of this, okay?” You started, watching him nod, “Second, this is just to test it out. I didn’t wanna just immediately cross it off the list of freaky shit we’ve done if we don’t do it.”

“Understandable.”

“Third, Roleplay is optional. But, I’m keeping anything too crazy off the table.” You looked at him, “Got it?”

“Got it, baby.” He smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek, “I love you, princess.”

“I love you, too, Jen.” You cupped his cheek, kissing him on the lips, slipping your tongue along his own to reignite the fire that wasn’t completely snuffed. Jeno eagerly reciprocated, his moan vibrating against your lips.

“Damn, don’t know if I really wanna keep the mask on now.”

You giggled, pressing another kiss against his lips, “Better put it back on before I change my mind.”

Jeno placed the mask back against his face, his eyes showing the smile you couldn’t see through the barrier, “I’m gonna start moving, baby.”

“Mmhmm,” You nodded, biting your lips as you felt his hips moving at a slow pace, the moan caught in your throat bubbling over.

Jeno had some type of fixation with your hands, one hand tangling with your own as his other pinned yours against the mattress. He loved seeing your hands wrapped around his cock, his wrist, intertwined with his own. He loved feeling your hands tangled in his hair, grabbing his biceps and digging into his skin, sometimes around his neck, if you both felt that was the move. Your hands were his favorite part of you.

Jeno squeezed your hand in his own as his hips pressed into you deeper, swearing under his breath as he felt your pussy weep around his cock, “Feel so good, angel.” He groaned, throwing his head back, “Missed this pretty pussy.”

You whined, your chest heaving as you squeezed his hand in your own. Words attempted to escape, but only came out as gasps. Jeno always had a way of filling you to the brim, and bringing you to the edge quickly.

Jeno could feel how badly you missed his cock; squeezing around him, the choked moans and gasps, the way your body tensed, and how your eyes rolled behind your eyelids. Sweat lingered on his forehead behind the mask, his breath growing heavily as he watched you writhe in desperation, “Like that, baby?”

You nodded when your words betrayed you, feeling Jeno’s hands leave your own to grip your waist and move you along his length, “Fu-“ You moaned as his hips piston against your own, reaching your hand up to tangle in his hair under the fabric of the mask, “Just like that, Jeno.” You stuttered out to your best ability, the pleasure overwhelmingly covering your body in a sheen of sweat.

Jeno smirked under the mask, his thumb moving to rub at your clit to heighten your experience and bring you closer to the edge, “Such a good girl, telling me just how you want it.”

Every word Jeno said pushed you closer to the edge, your legs mindlessly wrapping around his hips, “Feels so good… I’m almost there, Jen.”

“Me too, princess.” He gasped, his eyes trained on where you two met, the white, creamy ring sitting at the base of his cock, “Fit together so perfectly.” He moaned out, his thumb continuing to rub harsh circles on your clit, “Feel it, baby? ’S like you were made for me. Such a pretty cunt for my cock.”

Your fingers tightened around his hair, tugging at the strands as he continued to speak, “Jen…”

“You cummin’ already, baby?” He chuckled, “Such a good girl, cumming on my cock. Wish I could fill you up and make you mine already. Wanna show everyone you’re my girl.”

As he continued his assault on your cunt, you hung onto his every word, your pussy clenching around him. The ability to form sentences with words and exclamation has long since been fucked out of your brain, the only thing repeating in your head was, “Jeno, Jeno, Jeno.”

Jeno let out a raspy moan, the mask brushing against your chest as you felt his cum fill the condom, the heat filling your belly with warmth. Your chests both raised in sync as you attempted to catch your breath. Pulling the mask off, Jeno stilled inside you, smiling down at you sweetly, "Good job, baby."

You smiled back, pecking his lips, "Good job to you, too." You hummed, leaning back on your elbows, "Okay, pull out. I gotta piss before I develop a UTI."

"I love when you talk dirty to me." He teased, pulling out of you slowly before he laid back on the bed, steadying his breathing. Laying his head on the arms he crossed behind his head, he glanced around the room while he waited for you to come back from the restroom, “Did you get any work done on your paper?”

Returning from the restroom, you laid down beside him, “No, because someone gave me a call saying some guy was missing and they didn’t know where they were.”

Jeno rolled his eyes, “Haha.” He laughed sarcastically, “I told you, the car broke down. I couldn’t do anything but walk there.”

“I’m just teasing.” You nudged him, curling against his side as he wrapped his arm around your waist, the both looking at one another sweetly.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“For what?”

“I know I’m shitty with getting to places on time, and you have every right to be mad at me for this. You shouldn’t be the only one who needs to deal with this.” He brushed his fingers along your side, rubbing his thumb along your hip, “I’m gonna listen to you, okay? I know it seemed like I wasn’t paying attention but I was.”

You pressed your forehead against his, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, “I know, Jen. And, I appreciate you for everything you already do.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, Jeno.”

You both settled for relaxing and enjoying one another’s company, especially considering you both rarely got days off together. Jeno played a movie on his charged phone, which you both cuddled and watched. And it wasn’t Stab much to your surprise. It was something you suggested. You used that as proof that he loved you, even if it was something small like this; Cuddling, watching a movie together, sharing kisses and random thoughts either of you had about the film. You couldn’t wait for another day like this, even if it was years away.

You don’t remember falling asleep, and you don’t remember Jeno leaving for work that morning. You don’t even think he said goodbye, and it didn’t smell like his shampoo in the dorm room, nor his cologne. Rubbing your eyes, you glanced around the room, for any sign he left for work; a note, a text message on your phone screen, or even a Tupperware bin with some food he made or ordered in. And after a long look around the room, you found the post-it note stuck to the paper of your notebook with all the information you could think to include in your report of the Woodsboro murders that read; “Be back later. Went to work. Make sure to finish your paper. Love you.” And in smaller hand writing underneath his already small lettering, he wrote, “P.S. Left some dirty clothes on the floor. I’ll do the wash later.”

Setting the note down, you sighed, walking around the small dorm room to find said clothes he left on the floor, but you couldn't find it. You checked the back of his chair, the bathroom, by the dresser, but you couldn't find it. You squat down, looking underneath the bed to find, lo and behold, the dirty clothes he left on the floor. You wondered how much of a rush he could've been in to kick them under the bed.

You reached under the bed, grabbing the clothes only to immediately drop it as soon as you pull it out, your hands covered in red liquid. It covered the floor where you had dropped it, a "splat" echoed in your head after you'd done so. It wasn't as thick and red as blood, and it definitely wasn't as thin and clear as water. You couldn't decipher what it was. It dried down quickly on your hands and the floor.

Horror aside, you rised from the ground, and grabbed a brush to clean the mess off the floor — you'd interrogate Jeno later — and scrubbed the living hell out of the floor. You were sure the finish over the hardwood floors were coming off by how hard you were scrubbing. You had to get the deposit back for the dorm room, even if you had to scrub the floor on your hands and knees.

Kneeling there, you felt tears brim your eyes as you thought to yourself, "What exactly am I cleaning up?" You felt your arms burn with each motion you made, you felt your breathing grow heavy. You could count this as your workout for the week.

"Jeno, you idiot." You whispered to yourself, the tears rolling down your face, gasping for air. "God, this is so stupid." You used your sleeve to wipe at your cheeks, a shaky breath escaping your lips.

You tried to push the thought from your mind, deciding to just focus on your other preoccupation, which was sitting inside your laptop, begging for any type of attention from you divided brain. So, you did. Cross-referencing your notes, reading the PDF of the books on your laptop and then switching over to Microsoft Word to type anything that came to mind, as long as it's relevant.

Yet, you could feel your mind drifting.

You sat there, pausing as you thought about everything you've read as if you could even begin to connect it to your life. There's so much Sydney Prescott went through that you couldn't even begin to comprehend. Rubbing your temples, you were reaching the final stretch of the paper, attempting to type out a conclusion that would make any type of sense for it.

The dorm room opened and you turned briefly to find your boyfriend walking in with the earbuds in his ears, "Hey, baby." He walked over, pecking your head, "How's the paper coming along?"

You tapped your pen against your notebook, "I'm stuck."

Jeno began to dress down from his work uniform, his eyes glancing at his side of the bed, the green and white heavy duty scrub brush laying on the ground, covered in the diluted red suds. "Did you grab the clothes?"

"I was trying to." You mumbled, "What was on them?"

"Why'd you do that?" Jeno voice was deeper and you can see his brows furrow as he looked at you.

You turned around in your seat, looking at him, "I was trying to help."

"I told you I'd do it." He shouted.

"Jen, I was just-"

"I said I'd pick them up and wash them."

You glanced down at the clothes on the floor, whatever was on them leaking between the floorboards and you winced at the thought of it staining the floor. "I just wanted to help! The laundry basket isn't far from where you put them."

"Well, I was in a rush. I didn't have time to throw them in the basket. That's why I left them on the floor."

You sighed, rubbing your eyes, "I just thought I was saving time by moving it to the basket."

Jeno pulled his work shirt off, groaning, "I didn't want to ruin the other clothes in there."

"And just leave it to soak into the flooring?"

"No— God, fuck." He threw his work shirt into the laundry basket before picking up the soiled clothes and placing them inside, "There, happy?"

You looked at him, "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing!" He grumbled, "Just wish you didn't have such lousy faith in me."

"I never said I did."

"You sure as hell implied it." He grabbed the basket and walked out the dorm room to the laundry room down the hall.

Your eyes narrowed at the back of his head before you went back to your paper, finishing it off in record time. It was finally time to prepare your paper to be printed, turned in and graded. You unplugged your laptop, making sure to save your finished paper before you shut it off and carried it out to the library.

You gave the two dollars and fifty cents to the librarian to use the printer, and stood by the machine to print out your report.

As the belt of the printer echoed through the library and watched each paper spit out after one another, the ink bleeding into the back, you were now preoccupied with everything you read about the Woodsboro murders, what exactly your boyfriend was upset about and whether or not, you should be the one to apologize. You didn't think you were doing anything wrong. You thought you were helping by grabbing the clothes. You really weren't concerned about whatever was on it anymore; all you know is you were happy it wasn't blood.

Maybe this whole report was getting to your head. You've read Sydney Prescott's encounters too much to the point you were scared what she went through was happening to you. How impossible is it?

You're just paranoid. You're being delusional and dramatic and you could only do your best to gaslight yourself into believing you're being a crazy girlfriend who had no reason to make your boyfriend feel like an idiot.

Drowning in your thoughts, you didn't draw your eyes away from the printer, unaware of the beeping it gave you to grab the papers it finished printing out.

Like you were a puppet, you grab the papers, tucking them under your arm with your laptop, and made your way to the hole puncher, pressing down on the lever after setting the papers inside.

Everything felt like ten tasks wrapped into one as you did them, like it was neverending.

You hole punched the papers, and placed them onto the counter, "Hi," you smiled to the librarian.

"Hi, what can I help you with?" She reciprocated the smile.

"I wanted to purchase one of the report covers." You nodded your head to the item, opening your wallet.

She rised from the chair, grabbing the cover.

You glanced down at the glass box you placed your laptop and papers on, eyeballing a newspaper that was displayed in the box. From what you could read through the glass, there seemed to have been some recent murders around the area. Jesus, you spent these last two days inside like some recluse and people have been dying.

“Can… Can I also get one of these papers?” You asked, pointing at it through the glass.

The librarian nodded her head as she set the items down, using the key on her keyring to open the glass case and grab a newspaper, setting it down beside the covers and your items, “All right, your total will be 5 dollars even.”

You dropped the bill onto the counter, grabbing your items and made your way out of the library. You anxiously hurried back to your dorm, opening the door to the room, setting the items down on your desk. The newspaper laid flat on your desk, your eyes reading over the article from a distance.

It was nauseating, reading over the details. Two people gone in two days… It was hard to stomach it.

You sat down on your chair, staring at the front page. To think you were perfectly fine while these people were living their last day being tortured. Obviously, you couldn’t have worn a cape and saved them, but, you wished there was something you could’ve done to prevent something like this from happening. The addresses seemed all too familiar. Like, you’ve seen them before. Somewhere familiar almost.

The door opened and you heard a sniffle from the doorway, “Oh, baby.” Jeno whispered, wandering over to you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, “Baby, I’m so sorry. I-I had a rough day at work, hearing shit from Jaehyun and everyone about yesterday, and I took it out on you and I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be making a big deal over you helping, especially not since our anniversary is tomorrow.”

You rubbed his head as he nuzzled his nose against your neck, “It’s okay, baby.” You kissed his cheek, “Hey, have you heard about this?” You motioned to the newspaper.

“About what?” He lifted his head, looking at the front page of the newspaper, “Yeah… Yeah, I heard about it. Chenle was mentioning it at work today.”

“It’s sad.”

“It is.” He sighed, rubbing your shoulder with his hand, “All we can do right now is just be happy it wasn’t us.”

You felt the lump in your throat strain as you tried to keep your tears back, “I guess you’re right.”

Jeno pecked your cheek, glancing at the papers on your desk, “You finished the report?"

“Yeah.” You folded the newspaper up, setting it off to the side, flitting your fingers through the paper, “Wanna read it?”Jeno scoffed, “Uh, yeah.” He grabbed the paper, beginning to read through it in silence, as if he was absorbing the information. You sat there, waiting for his input, which was often accompanied by the mention of his favorite movie.

Jeno read the pages all too quickly, turning to look at you, “You always have such a way with words, baby.” He set them down beside you, “You’ll definitely get a high grade on it.”

You smiled, threading the paper through the loops, preparing it to be turned in, the cover with your name, title of the report, class, et cetera, et cetera at the top. “I’m glad you think so.”

“You put work into it. Compassion, care, intellect. You would deserve it.”

“How’d the wash go?”

“They’re in the dryer right now.” Jeno leaned back on the bed, pulling his phone out, “Should be done in 20 minutes. More or less.”

Your heart still ached from what Jeno said earlier, so you returned his answer with silence, not able to find words to express yourself. At least, not yet. You decided to keep it under wraps until after your anniversary tomorrow. After the party. After Halloween.

It was Halloween night. Jeno and you have spent the beginning of your anniversary cuddling in bed, whispering soft “Happy Anniversary”’s to one another. He took you out to breakfast, lunch and shopping. “Just to show you off,” Jeno tried to convince you. But, now, it was time to sit through the two hour long movie Jeno and you both shared every anniversary. Jeno thought it’d be funny to dress up in the Ghostface costume for the evening, since he was the “star” of the movie. He said that, “behind the mask, it wasn’t just Billy Loomis or Stu Macher. Together, they worked as one.”

“I got an A on my paper.” You briefly mentioned as Jeno drove you both to his work place. Turns out, his car just needed a jumpstart.

“That’s great, baby. I knew you’d get a good grade.” He chuckled, turning his head to look at you before looking at the road again, “What’d you get docked off?”

“Turns out, I was a bit too sympathetic in my writing. I got docked a few points for ‘appearing too biased’.” You shrugged, “It’s whatever.”

Jeno chuckled, “Well, I thought it was amazing.” He smiled as he pulled into the parking lot of the theater, “Just goes to show that you have a better point of view than other people. Not everyone will understand that.”

Unbuckling your seatbelt and grabbing your bag, you exited the car, “I guess, but I understand it from my professor’s perspective. It’s supposed to be an informational report, not an opinion discussion board.”

Jeno followed, locking the door behind you both, “Doesn’t mean you can’t share your opinion.” He grabbed your hand in his own and guided you to the front doors of the theater. The theater was covered in Halloween decorations, and it was unfortunate that it’d all have to come down after this evening.

Jaehyun and Jeno’s other managers were handing out drinks and popcorn to your boyfriend’s coworkers, who wandered off to the theater they were all familiar with. Approaching the counter, you heard a loud “Boo!’’ echo off the walls, causing you to jump and hold your hand to your chest.

“Chenle, what the fuck?” You scolded, glaring at him through your lashes.

“Dude, Chenle, I told you not to do that stuff tonight.” Jeno sighed, rubbing his temples, “I told you Y/N’s been freaked out cause of all the shit happening.”

“My bad. I meant to scare Jeno more than I did to you, Y/N.” Chenle chuckled, “Sorry.”

You sighed softly, “Doesn’t help that it already happened.”

Jeno wrapped his arm around your shoulder, silently comforting you as he spoke with Chenle, “We’re wearing the same costume.”

“We, indeed, are.” Chenle sighed, “You just can’t stop copying me.” He glanced down at the mask he held in his hand, “Is that the replica? Are you seriously wearing it to this?”

Jeno scoffed, “Where else am I gonna wear it?” He questioned, moving up in the line as it progressed, “I can’t keep it hanging up on my wall forever.”

Your heart settled in your chest as you walked up to the counter, looking at Jaehyun, mouthing a quiet, “Help.”

Jaehyun already knew the predicament you were in; forced to listen to the conversation of two movie buffs talking about “Stab!” He’s had to deal with it for the last 4 years the two had worked there. There was times he’s even had to apologize for interrupting their precious reminiscences of the movie. “Chenle, Jeno, Y/N, what can I get for you guys?”

“Jaehyun!” Chenle greeted him over the counter with open arms, “Be a doll and get the lady some Sour Patch. I scared her half to death trying to scare her boyfriend.”

Jaehyun sighed, glancing at you, “Freaked out about those things happening around town?”

“You could say so.” You accepted the candy the man offered, “Just found about it yesterday, too.”

“Yeah, she could hardly sleep last night.”

“Babe,”

“What?” Jeno shrugged, “Not saying it’s a bad thing. Just a little uncharacteristic of you.”

You sighed, letting Jeno grab the popcorn and the drinks for you two, “Thank you, Jaehyun.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” He smiled, nodding his head to you.

Jeno guided both you and Chenle to the theater the movie was showing in, letting you take the lead up the stairs. There they were, the seats you both sat in 3 years ago, still in the condition you remember them in. So many people have sat in these chairs and would never understand just how much it has meant to you and your relationship. You sat in the aisle seat, gently taking the drinks in your hand as your boyfriend sat down beside you. He was quick to lift the arm rest between you two to pull you closer to him, his arm wrapped around your waist with the popcorn bucket sat in between you both. He accepted his drink and set it down in the cup holder.

“Just like all those years ago.” Jeno sighed, resting his head on top of yours.

You smiled to yourself, grabbing his hand in your own, “As much as I pretend to hate this movie, it still has a special place in my heart.”

Jeno kissed your knuckles, watching as his co-workers and plus one’s fill their seats. The smell of butter on popcorn filled the air, and the quiet chatter between everyone echoed off the wall.

Jaehyun entered the theater, standing at the front near the screen, “Happy Halloween, everyone!” He greeted, crossing his arms over his chest as everyone repeated the words, “Much to my reluctance, your coworkers requested this movie to be shown because of the connotation that it is the halloween movie to watch.”

Jeno and Chenle both gave hoots and hollers at the mention of their suggestion getting picked.

“It also happens to be the first movie our favorite visitor saw with her boyfriend here at the theater.” Jaehyun motioned to both you and Jeno, everyone turning to look at you, “This is also a token of our appreciation to our team for the close end-of-the-year. We would not be here without all of your guys help and hard-work.”

The theater filled with clapping, cheering and sweet words called out to everyone’s favorite manager.

“Settle down, everyone.” He chuckled, “Alright, everyone. Presenting this evening is Stab! Please silence your cell phones and enjoy the movie.”

The lights turned down and you watched the film light up the screen. No previews, no movie trailers, just pure film. It started out how it always did; Casey Becker popping popcorn on the stove, the harsh lighting of her house bringing out the color of her blonde hair.

Despite watching the movie multiple times, every fake jumpscare, every fake gore still made you jump and turn away from the screen. Jeno chuckled, comforting you as best he could, pecking your head.

"I've got to use the restroom." You whispered, attempting to stand up.

"Wait, you'll miss it." Jeno focused on the screen as he watched the movie intently, absorbing everything.

"Jen, we see the movie all the time. I'm sure I know what happens." You stood from the seat, glancing at the row behind you, gasping softly.

The row that was once filled with Jeno's coworkers was now empty with a horrific scene that you couldn't stomach.

Heads slumped forward, bodies slack, popcorn spilling out on the floor as the hands they had on the paper bucket were loosened.

You nudged Jeno's shoulder, unable to speak, who only glanced behind him, a sigh escaping his lips, "He always does this."

"What?" Your brows furrowed, "Jeno, what?"

Jeno set the popcorn down on the now empty seat beside him, where Chenle was.

"You... You—"

Jeno covered your mouth with his hand, covering his face with the mask, speaking through the mesh, "You're too trusting."

You felt your bottom lip quiver as he looked at you through the eyeholes, the tears rolling down your cheeks. You were an idiot, such an idiot. The sneaking out despite having his keys, the car "breaking" down, the dirty clothes, the disappearing. How didn't you see it? How didn't you see that he was the problem this whole time?

"You seriously believed I wasn't doing anything against your wishes?" He whispered, "You're such a dolt. You'd think reading all the books on criminal behavior would have made you more aware of what you were getting into."

"Jen..." You mumbled through his hand, "Please, ju-just let me go. I-I won't tell anyone."

Jeno clicked his tongue as he nodded his head towards Chenle wandering around the ground floor, holding Jaehyun by the back of his neck, bringing you both face to face, "You're too cute, thinking you'll be getting out of this."

The movie continued to play in the background and you couldn't help but repeat all the lines in your head.

Jaehyun struggled against Chenle's grip, his brows furrowed.

"For what it's worth, I actually was in love with you." Jeno whispered in your ear, "Every time I was with you, I felt butterflies in my stomach and my chest ached every time I thought about being apart from you." He rested his chin on your shoulder, "Consider this orientation."

He wrapped your hands around a clip pointed blade, one you didn't even know he owned, guiding it to point at Jaehyun's stomach, yet not piercing the skin just yet.

"All you have to do is push this blade into his belly. Kinda like gutting a pig."

You shook your head, your face contorting as he explained it to you. The tears continued to roll down your cheeks and over the black gloves Jeno wore.

"I told you she didn't have it in her, Jeno." Chenle chuckled, "She's too humanitarian."

"Shut up." Your boyfriend — or rather, at this point, your ex-boyfriend — glared, "She's gonna have to get some blood on her hands if we don't want to go down by ourselves."

Jaehyun attempted to yell, Chenle's hand covering his mouth quickly.

During the little squabble the two wannabe Ghostface's were having, your hand loosened on the knife that Jeno had released to point at Chenle.

Jaehyun and you both made eye contact, silently communicating with one another. He nodded his head to the knife in your hand, you shook yours, and he looked at Jeno, raising his eyebrows. You knew what he was telling you to do. "Use the knife on your boyfriend who was actually a homocidal maniac and planned this whole entire thing."

Using the knife Jeno planted in your hand was you accepting that everything you put in for the last 3 years was over. That despite all your efforts to put him up on a pedestal as the "best boyfriend who might have an odd obsession with this slasher film" was all for nothing. That all those things people have whispered about him was true and that you were nothing more than enabler. That you were none the wiser to all these strange behaviors coming from your boyfriend.

It made you nauseous to believe that were put into this situation and you dragged innocent people into it.

Jaehyun was almost begging you, pleading you, to set all those feelings aside and to get the upper hand in this situation. He wanted you to realize that this may be the end of 3 years but that you'll be free from the gossip, from the worry of what he was truly doing, from spending an extra 3 years trying to convince yourself that Jeno is a good guy and not some maniac under wraps.

You shook your head, feeling your bottom lip tremble as you considered the options. You could either let the two toy with Jaehyun and yourself like you guys were fashion dolls, or you could attempt to end this now and give them a taste of their own medicine. It was hard to detach yourself from Jeno — you had spent every day of your life with him after that first day. You both moved in, you adjusted your schedules for one another, you shared bills, you shared chores, you shared one another. You drag your eyes along the mask that Jeno wore, silently wishing it was just some big, giant cruel prank that would end with Ashton Kutcher coming out with a camera crew and a team telling you you had gotten punk'd in this day and age.

I can't, I can't, I can't, you whispered to yourself as the tears were pouring from your eyes, gripping the knife and turning in Jeno's arm; which seemed to loosen out of habit; the knife meeting his abdomen.

"Ow!" Jeno looked at you, glaring, "You stabbed me!"

You held the crimson-stained blade in your hand, sobbing, "Please, Jen... Please don't do this!"

He looked to Chenle, then back at you, "I've never been stabbed before."

Jaehyun used the distraction as a way to make his way out of Chenle's grasp, blocking you with his body, "Both of you, you can walk away from this."

You let Jaehyun block you, exchanging the knife between your hands, allowing him to hold it out in front of him.

"Walk away?" Jeno's gloved hand covered the wound, "It's too late for that." He chuckled darkly, "You know why other killers get caught so fast?"

"Jeno, please stop!" You screamed.

"Because they don't take the extra precautions; different sized shoes than regular ones, different cologne, different clothes than regular. They never take the time to make a whole new persona."

The two walked up the stairs, pushing you both into the back row, Jaehyun's hand holding your shaking one in his, "Jeno, Chenle, please. Let us go. You already got everyone else in the theater. What does it matter if there's 2 left?"

"Because if she lives," Chenle pointed, "We're suspects."

"And if you live," Jeno whispering almost sinisterly, "She has a witness."

"I won't say a word, please... please, Jeno, you know I won't. You know I won't say anything." Your bottom lip wobbled, "Just let us go."

The movie continued to play in the background, the contours of the mask illuminated by the scene on the screen, "Don't you remember this scene, Y/N?"

You glanced at the screen briefly, being reminded of the first date you both shared; It was when Billy confronted Sydney after being arrested. Jeno was holding you close to his chest that first day together, like he didn't have a care in the world that it was your guys first date.

You shut your eyes, squeezing Jaehyun's hand in your own, which he reciprocated in comfort. Jeno spoke, but you tuned it out, trying to calm down from the anxiety attack that rised in your chest.

Jaehyun, Jeno, Chenle. Chenle, Jeno, Jaehyun. The conversation continued on and on, each arguing with one another as if it was over the last slice of pizza.

You weren't a final girl, and never did you have it in you to be a final girl. Like Chenle said, you're too humanitarian. But, you stood against the wall, your heart thumping in your chest as Jaehyun defended you both with the knife.

Everything was a blur; Jeno and Chenle teaming up against Jaehyun, Jaehyun receiving a wound on his cheek, You couldn't move. You were frozen. This wasn't a movie, it wasn't a stupid sequel to "Stab!". You were forced to watch this go on, and you could barely move.

Jeno gave a final look at you through the mask, before a thud echoed across the theater, Chenle falling right after.

You sobbed silently as you looked at your boyfriend laying on the floor of the theater, annoyed to see the cold pvc plastic of the mask and not his handsome face that you grew so familiar to seeing.

Jaehyun kneeled beside you, grabbing your hand, "Come on. We've gotta get out of here." He helped you up, and you half expected for Jeno to follow after you, not as this monster he became, but as your boyfriend.

"Jeno..."

"No, come on." Jaehyun whispered, letting you continue to stare at him as he lead you down the hallway of the auditorium. "Last time I hire Stab fanatics." He grumbled to himself, sitting you down at a square table in the lobby as he called the police on the theater's phone.

You glanced at Jaehyun, noticing the blood seeping through his work shirt, his breathing heavy.

"You're hurt."

Jaehyun quickly gave as much information as he could to the police, before he hung up and looked at you, "I'll be fine. First responders should be here soon."

You sighed, "I'm half expecting Jeno to come through the door and tell me he's ready to go home."

"It'll be hard to get used to." Jaehyun winced, leaning against the concession counter.

"I don't know if I want to get used to it."

Jaehyun sighed, "He tried to kill you." He mumbled, "He tried to have you kill me." He looked at you, "He didn't know you. Someone who loves you would never subjugate you to that."

The shock was enough to force you to stop crying, rubbing your arm with your hand. Jaehyun was right; if Jeno truly loved you, he'd never put you into this situation. The sirens and lights reflected and echoed off the walls just as the first responders arrived.

Jaehyun offered his hand to you, which you kindly took as he led you out the door.

It's been weeks since everything at the theater went down. Jaehyun and you met up frequently for emotional support. You're in therapy after everything that happened. You'd still find yourself thinking about Jeno, waking up in the morning questioning where he was.

That evening at the theater, after the police arrived, Jaehyun was transported to the hospital for treatment. Leaving you alone outside the theater, sniffling to yourself. They exited just as quickly as they entered.

"Didn't see anything." One of the police officers said to another and you whipped your head towards them, making it completely obvious that you were listening.

"You telling me there wasn't two adults in hooded robes with those cheesy Ghostface masks?"

"Nope. Only those victims in the seats."

You moved back in with your mother after that. You spent more of your time looking over you shoulder, in fear you'd see your ex-boyfriend with a knife, rather than enjoying your life as it is now.

You could hardly settle in your bedroom, laying on your side watching the movie on your television screen. Nothing too exciting, just a re-run of Mrs. Doubtfire. With your head leaning on your hand and your blanket over your shoulders, you heard a creak behind you.

You didn't dare look, but from the mirror you had angled to face your bedroom door, you saw the same pvc plastic you see in your nightmares, and the shine of the blade.

copyright © 2024 thewonandonly. all rights reserved.

[stvrlightgirl]

✧˖°. So caught up in you ✧˖°.

part four

part one, part two, part three

summary: After the date, you can’t help but overthink every aspect of it, turns out it was just your mind playing tricks on you, and good men still exists.

pairing: primary school teacher!remus lupin x single mom f!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, crying, overthinking.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: I am so grateful for all of your likes, reblogs and comments guys, it truly gives me the power to continue this series, because I know that there is someone who actually like what I write, lov u <3

Enjoy! taglist masterlist

"She was amazing. I mean, I’ve never met someone like her, you know? She’s just different in a good way.” He sighed.

After your last date, he couldn't stop thinking about you. Almost a week had passed, and your relationship was blossoming faster than he thought it would, but he certainly had no complaints. Now, he saw you nearly every day when you dropped off Molly at school. Somehow, he always managed to be nearby, and your eyes would meet unexpectedly, as if it was meant to happen. You exchanged messages a few times a day, and without fail, he always sent you a good morning and goodnight message, no matter what he was doing. Grading papers, going to bed? Not without sending you a "Goodnight, sweetheart. Hope you had a good day."

After all that happened, he wasn’t so shy anymore. Instead, he wanted to make you blush every time he saw you. You just looked so cute when your cheeks started to get red after a minute of him speaking without breaking eye contact.

"You dozed off again, mate” Sirius snapped him out of his lethargy with his irritated voice. "She got you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?” A smirk appeared on his face, when he saw how Remus’s eyes started gleaming.

Remus took a sip of his bear and leaned against the chair.

It was one of their favorite haunts, a cozy pub with dark wooden furnishings and a comforting, lived-in feel. The bubbling hum of conversation and the low strumming of a live acoustic guitar warmth the room.

"And you don't even notice," he added after a moment, his voice tinged with amusement.

"Maybe…but I don’t think I want to notice.” He chuckled.

The truth was, yeah. You got him wrapped around his finger, and it’s was scary, because he wanted more and more everyday, and it was a dangerous game to play.

"Give yourself a chance, Moony," he said, leaning forward on the table. "It's now or never. From what I've heard she's really something special. Girls like her don't come around often." He gave him a knowing smirk.

"Yeah, you should know something about it.” He snorted sarcastically.

"Oh come on, I sleep around because I didn’t found the one, yet, so don’t judge me, that’s my way to do this!”

Remus shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I know, Sirius. But maybe, just maybe, it's time to think about changing your ways."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Look who's talking. Mr. Commitment himself. Just because you've found someone special doesn't mean everyone's that lucky."

"True," Remus admitted. "But luck has nothing to do with it. Sometimes, it's about taking a chance."

Sirius took a long sip of his drink, pondering Remus's words. "Maybe you're right," he said finally, drifting off to his own thoughts for a second.

"But I’m giving this chance, definitely.” Remus said after a while, and then the two of them took a long sip of their beers.

"Cheers to that, then.”

"I’m giving this a chance, Marlene but I’m scared to make mistake, it’s so frustrating.”

You sat on your couch, talking on your phone with Marlene. You had been replaying the date over and over in your head, analyzing every little detail. Though you had genuinely enjoyed yourself, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of doubt. Then she called you. A true miracle for your sorrows.

Were you ready to start dating again? Could you balance a new relationship with the demands of being a mom? These questions swirled in your mind, refusing to be silenced.

"Girl, sometimes you think too much, just let go already! He’s a fine man, the most decent you’ll probably find ever, so where’s all this doubt coming from him?"

"It’s different, I have a daughter, and I don’t want her to suffer, when he decides I’m not the one.” Your lips quivered, and you wanted to cry.

She sighed, making a comfortable pause.

"Babes, I know it's scary, but sometimes it's worth it. Besides, didn't he make it clear on the date that he liked where this is going? Maybe you should just message him and see for yourself, maybe you should just talk to him, it’s a key to connection.”

"I just don’t want to mess this up, Marl," you whispered, rubbing your eyes with your fingers.

”And you won’t, trust me.”

The sound of small footsteps interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to see Molly standing in the doorway, clutching her favorite stuffed animal, a well-loved bunny named Floppy.

"Mommy, why are you still awake?" Molly asked in a sleepy voice, rubbing her eyes.

"I have to go, Molly just woke up.” you said, ending the call with a quick goodbye. You placed your phone on the coffee table and sighed.

Then, you managed a smile, patting the spot next to you on the couch. "Just thinking about grown-up stuff, sweetie. Come here, sweetie.”

Molly trotted over and climbed onto the couch, snuggling up next to you. “Is it about Mr. Lupin?" She whispered, rubbing her tired eyes.

Caught off-guard, you looked down at Molly, who gazed up at you with innocent curiosity. You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yes, it is." You sigh.

Molly's face brightened. "I like him, Mommy. He's nice and tells funny stories in class."

You felt a lump form in her throat. "I'm glad you like him, Molly. I think I like him too.” You whisper the last part to yourself.

Molly yawned, nuzzling her stuffed bunny. “If you like him, then why are you sad?”

You lowered your gaze to meet hers, and with a gentle movement, you extended your arm to pull her toward you, drawing her close as she snuggled into your side.

“It’s nothing sweetie. Mommy’s okay.” You smiled encouragingly. “It was just a tough day.”

"Can we read a story before bed then?” Molly asked, her eyes already drooping but filled with hope.

"Course!" you exclaimed with infectious enthusiasm, lifting her gently into your arms. "We need to find out where the little prince will be doing today!" With a grin, you carried her towards her bedroom.

She let out a joyous giggle as you spun her around in your arms, creating a gentle breeze between you. Her laughter filled the air, and a grin spread across your face as you continued to move towards her bedroom.

Once Molly was tucked comfortably under the warmth of her blanket, you selected one of her favorite books and started to read aloud. As you flipped through the pages, your thoughts began to drift towards Remus, and despite your best efforts to focus on the story, his face kept appearing in your mind, his smile and gentle demeanor tugging at your heartstrings.

On the other side, your thoughts were a whirlwind of mixed emotions. Ever since you had returned from the date, a battle was raging in your mind. You couldn't deny how perfect the moment had been between the two of you, but the lingering fear of facing the same heartache and letdown again was clouding your judgment. Despite the growing feeling in your chest, the thought of opening yourself up to potential pain felt overwhelmingly terrifying.

After a short while, you glanced down at Molly and noticed she was fast asleep. Smiling warmly, you leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her head. Quietly, you made your way back to the living room, settling onto the couch as you grabbed your phone. Your finger hovered over Remus's contact, an internal debate unfolding within you. Should you text him or not?

Fuck it, your mind screamed.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you started typing a message and without further thinking you hit send.

“Hey, I know it’s late. Just wanted to say goodnight.”

Fuck, why did you do it in the first place anyway, he probably won’t answ-

And then you saw three dots blinking.

“Hey, everything’s alright?”

Your fingers froze as you pondered your reply.

”Yeah, why?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

”Can I come over? Just for a minute.”

You felt tears gathering in your eyes, and It took him a second after your reply to realize you weren’t okay.

”Please.”

He was there after 15 minutes of walk, knocking on your door at 11 pm at night. Was he crazy? Maybe, but he couldn’t care less when you gave him such weird text. Maybe you didn’t want to take this thing between you any further? Oh god that’s was the worst scenario.

When you unlocked the door, he saw you looking miserable, with tired eyes that spoke of sleepless night. You hesitated as you stared at him, and he had to take a deep breath to steady himself. Then he really looked at you and saw that your eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Those pretty eyes sad, with something he couldn’t decipher. Something inside him broke at the sight, and he knew he had to do something to make it better.

“Y/N?”

“I…”

“Can I come in or is it too much right now?” He asked with a soft voice that made you shed a single tear down your cheek as you felt the warmth of his concern.

He was too good for you, but you loved it more than anything.

“Yes, you can.”

You stepped aside from the entrance, and he moved closer, gently closing the door behind him. As he approached, his eyes softened with concern, and you could feel the comfort of his presence wrapping around you.

”What’s going on, can I help somehow?” His voice carried a hint of panic at seeing you so upset, but he was determined to face it.

”I’m just…I’m so scared, I don’t want to even think about it anymore.” Your voice trembled, and with it, your tears began to fall. You pulled your cardigan tighter around yourself, seeking comfort, but it did little to ease your misery.

”C’mere.” He stepped closer, his hands gently reaching for your waist. When you leaned in, burying your face in his chest, he felt a lump form in his throat. As your tears continued to fall, he had to gulp, struggling to keep his composure. The sight of you so vulnerable and upset pierced his heart, and despite the comforting embrace he offered, he couldn’t help but feel a deep ache inside. He wished he could take away your pain, holding you tighter as if his warmth alone could make everything right.

His palms gently moved to your back, pressing you closer until you were completely enveloped in his embrace. From the outside, it must have looked incredibly sweet, with you looking so small and delicate in his arms, like he was trying to shield you from the world, but now, all he could think about were your cries, each one tugging at his heart.

“What are you scared of, hm?” He whispered softly, waiting for a while as your cries began to quiet down.

”I just down want to fuck this up.” You confessed softly, your words still muffled against his chest as you kept your face hidden. He held you tighter, his heartbeat steady and reassuring against your cheek, fingers gently brushing through your hair.

”This?” He sounded confused.

”Us.” You added.

And then it clicked.

”Can you look at me, sweetheart?” He reached for your face, and when he managed to finally look in your eyes again, he couldn’t help but gather your tears with his thumb. You closed your eyes at the feeling of his warm hands against your skin, nearly melting away and momentarily forgetting everything on your mind.

Were you this touch starved? Pathetic.

"It’s so stupid, actually," you began. ”We were just on our first date, and now I’ve probably scared you off. You must think I’m some psycho who—"

“Hey, that’s not what I think, and you shouldn’t either. Don’t ever call yourself a psycho again,” he said, his gaze softening. It pained him to hear you label yourself like that.

“You don’t?” You gave him look of a scared little lost child.

Fuck, what did you do to him?

“I know that you’re scared for Molly, I can see it in your eyes every time we mention her, but it’s okay. It’s okay to not be okay, and to be scared. Sometimes I’m scared of fucking things up too. I want it to be right for both of us, for Molly. It might be too early, but I care about you, and I don’t mean no harm when I say I’m ready to explore things between us further, whenever you are ready, at your pace, no bullshit. I’m not like this, Y/N.”

You listened with a mix of shock and curiosity as he spoke, each word planting seeds of hope and warmth in your heart. His sincerity and the depth of his feelings started to dissolve the fears that had clouded your mind. You could feel that familiar warmth growing inside you, a comforting reminder that maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time. His reassurance and patience began to heal the doubts you had, filling you with a renewed sense of possibility and trust.

“Are you even real?” you chuckled, a bit amazed.

He returned your smile and squeezes your waist playfully.

The tense atmosphere shifted to something more relaxed.

“Well, you’re here, standing in my arms, that doesn’t feel real for you, dove?” He teased, giving you a small wink. That melted all of your doubts for now.

“So now that everything’s clear, maybe you should come in properly?” You looked at his watch, gently removing his one hand from your waist to look at it, which made him snort with a small laugh. “It’s not that late, honestly.”

“You think it’s a good idea? What about Molly? If she sees me, she might be in a slight shock.”

“She’s asleep. I read herThe Little Prince every night, and it gives her the sweetest dreams, so she’s probably in a really deep sleep right now.”

He considered your proposition for a moment, then nodded softly with a warm smile.

“Ok, just for a moment though. I have to go back to my place, you know?” He joked.

And then a moment turn into hours, and he found himself holding you on his chest, in your living room, snoring cutely, after a glasses of wine you insisted to share with him. You were tangled in a blanket which he eventually reached for, because you started to shiver a bit. As he was looking at you, he suddenly realised how quickly he become attached to you. And it scared him then, but now, it’s was something he could get used to.

He really saw himself every night with you in his arms, and that thing changed something in his mind, forever.

He wanted this to become truth, after years of being alone.

He finally felt happy.

taglist:

@hisparentsgallerryy @belle-blue @lovelylupin04 @moonyanddaisies @harryslimebike @mooonyxoxo @lydipop @idohknow @ahead-fullofdreams @spirit-of-the-hollow @aheadfullofsteverogers

[r0-boat]

*Free falls from the sky*

Hello there, I’m 🦩anon! I come from the land of being terrified to send asks but finally got the courage to when it comes to the hot demons from WHB

I absolutely loved your Mammon Headcanons (totally not because I go feral for him, and also loved the dark/more twisted ones)

Do you by chance have more? If not then that’s ok!

🦩

Let's get some very sweet headcannons I don't have a lot but I have a few of certain characters so here's a mess of them!

Wholesome what in hell is bad headcanons various demons

Gehanna eddition

Let's give some love to the nobles!

Belial

Your Belial's first love, You're the apple of his eye. He constantly daydreams about you. And he's always eager to go on cute dates with you.

Belial before he lost his voice was a very good singer now you can only hear little bits of it when he hums. Someone hadn't heard his voice in a long time so he's a little shy about his singing.

Belial is always staring, please don't mind him He just likes looking at you listening to your voice. You could talk for hours and he could listen. Only for him to respond 'I love you.'

Leraye

When he gives you gifts he always gives you stuffed animals.

Leraye will randomly text you just to remind you that you're beautiful and great and sexy and that he loves you. Sometimes you'll just send you texts or at a context photos throughout his day He just likes telling you about himself.

Leraye feeds stray cats every time You see him, He is surrounded by stray kitties purring and cuddling up to him as he's trying to feed them. He has the biggest smile on his face as he tries to give them all attention and food.

Paimon

Paimon always shares his food with you, It is His love language He doesn't let anyone else do it but you. Sometimes he'll order big sizes just so you can eat it together. Paimon will even feed you.

If you have feminine clothing paimon will ask to borrow it. If not Paimon will buy outfits to match with you. They even bought you two little keychains to match.

Paimon loves to do those couples challenges with you. every time they find a new one they get so happy and then text you sending you the link to it and asks if you want to do it with them the next time you come over.

Sitri

A very overworked demon as much as your heartbeat turns him on it also calms him down when he lays against your chest he starts falling asleep.

Sitri is very touch starved He loves when you calm your hands through his hair melting into your touch and when you pull away he whimpers asking why you stopped.

Yes he does get annoyed when Leraye is hogging your attention but to be honest he's kind of happy that Leraye And you get along so well he hopes he could take care of you and you can take care of him part of him kind of hope you will choose him. Leraye is it good demon.

Zagen

Zagen is a really good artist, when he's bored he doodles for fun and those doodles look like works of art. During a meeting Zagen and Belial started doodling on a piece of paper. Despite Belial's crappy drawings Zagen says they're absolutely amazing and Belial should draw more so now they draw together! Zagen Even teaches Belial some art techniques and he's getting better Zagen is so proud! Leraye and Zagen still go to the gym together.

Zagen even though his rank is lower he still feels like a big brother to all of the other devils. He's very stoic protective yet caring and sweet. Zagen is a gentle giant. He may look scary but he's actually pretty shy. One compliment and his face is turning red, trying to hide that blushing face.

Zagen always reminds you to eat, He wants you to be strong by eating healthy. He knows how to cook because he makes his own healthy meals. You will never go hungry when he's around and he is happy to cook for you.

Astaroth

Instead of texting which he does do sometimes, He sends letters to you. Some of them are rather... Spicy, but all of them are filled with poetic and lovely words that make your heart flutter. It feels as though you are in the middle ages getting a love letter from your beloved fiance. Every word drips with love and you could practically feel the emotion on the paper. He even puts a little wax stamp on it before sending it to you the letter isn't an envelope smelling of his cologne.

Astaroth imagine is himself as the main character and you as love interest when he reads romantic novels. You can't help but imagine the two of you in those lovely situations sometimes he even writes it himself.

When he does text you he pours his heart out in a longing text. Telling you how much he longs for you. How his heart aches when he's not near you. How he feels as though he has lost without your touch. He knows just what to make you swoon.

[hazelsmirrorball]

Rockstar Girlfriend III. | Hazel Callahan 

Rockstar! Hazel Callahan x Popstar! Reader Summary: Hazel Callahan and Y/n L/n have to be in a pr relationship, but both of them can stand each other but recently things are starting to look up.  Warnings: Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Fluff, slight loser! Hazel. Not proof read. Sorry for any mistake, English isn't my main language. a/n: I should be doing an essay for class here we are. Hope you enjoy and thank you so much for all the love. There could possibly be another part.  ps. the song is "Lavender Haze" by Taylor Swift

part one. part two. part four. part five.

“Surreal, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say. No deal, the 1950s shit they want from me”

The two lines stared back at her as she anxiously tapped her pen against the couch hoping that some words would magically show up. She was desperate, very desperate. The deadline was near and she had made zero to no progress only having the first two lines of the song. She needed to finish the last song on the album, her manager had emphasized how important this album was for their career as a band. They needed to hop on the wave of success “dating” Hazel Callahan brought. 

She hated it, the only reason people were actually listening to her band wasn’t because they were talented but because she was attached to Hazel’s name. Not only did Hazel have several awards, a reputation of a god and a talented band but now Y/n’s band success was thanks to her.  She wanted to prove to the people that she was as talented as Hazel Callahan and her band. That’s why she offered herself to write that song on the album and that’s how she found herself at one am in the morning in the recording studio attempting to get out of the writer's block she had been stuck in for days. 

“No deal, the 1950’s shit they want for me. I just..” Y/n hummed the melody as taped the pen on the cushion attempting to get a beat. She was determined to get this song out. She needed to prove to her manager, to herself, to her band and to Hazel that she was talented.  “For fucks sake” Y/n muttered out as she took a sip of energy drink crumbling the paper up and throwing it in a pile of paper on the floor. She threw her head back on the couch stretching her legs under the coffee table. She closed her eyes, controlling her breath. Someone had cleared their throat from the other side of the room startling her. Y/n had lifted her head staring at the person in front of her. 

Hazel Callahan stood before Y/n, the only thing separating them was the table in the middle of the studio. Hazel’s body was adorned in a familiar sweater which instantly caused Y/n to smile at her.  Hazel held onto her guitar case while her tote bag rested on her shoulder. She sent a warm smile towards Y/n’s way, not her usual smirk, which actually scared her. For Y/n, this felt like she was crossing unknown territory. Why was Hazel at the studio late at night? It didn’t make any sense. 

“Hey, I hope I’m not bothering your creative process. I just.. You know. I was here in the morning and left by lunch. Didn’t see you move from your spot so I thought you might be hungry.  I brought some food so we could eat.  I always get good inspiration with a full stomach so I decided to bring your usual, I think… I’ve seen you order it a bunch of times before so I really hope it’s your usual and that I didn’t get it wrong” Hazel rambled quickly, taking out a brown bag from her tote bag and placing it on top of the table in front of them. She slowly rested her guitar case against the leather couch and quickly sat in front of the table also taking out her food out of her tote bag. 

“You know. It’s kind of scary that you’re being this nice to me.” Y/n said softly as she  inspected the bag slowly, surprised that Hazel had gotten her usual order perfectly.  Hazel took a bite of the fries shrugging her off. 

“I know it’s hard to believe but I am a nice person, Y/n. I just like messing with you, you make this cute little face when you're angry” She replied, taking a bite of her burger as Y/n followed her actions. Y/n could feel her face flushing at Hazel’s compliment. Her voice saying her name sounded like a melody she couldn’t get out of her head. What was happening?

“Thank You, Hazel. I really appreciate you bringing the food and everything but I need to finish this song. Management wants it for tomo.. Well actually today and I’m not even halfway done. ” Y/n said, placing her food down and reaching to grab her pen. As she grabbed it Hazel rested her hands on top of hers. Y/n looked up, locking eyes with Hazel as she felt herself loose the grip on the pen. Hazel cleared her throat, tapping her hand awkwardly, moving it away quickly. She looked to the side awkwardly, not wanting to face Y/n. 

“You are stressed and it’s pretty clear that you need a break. So forget about the song and talk to me. I know you’ll get the inspiration soon enough, Y/n. You are a talented girl.” Hazel said, rubbing the back of her neck turning to look at her quickly. 

“You, Hazel Callan, an award winning rock star, think I’m talented?” Y/n gasped dramatically placing a hand towards her chest in a joking manner not believing Hazel’s words. Hazel rolled her eyes, continuing eating her food. 

“I actually believe you guys are underrated. I consider myself a very big B/n fan. Your last album and quite honestly I believe it deserved several awards. More people need to hear you guys. I know that if they take the time they’ll see how talented you are and you’ll be on top of the world”  Hazel responded, scrunching up the wrapper and throwing it inside the paper bag. 

“I didn’t know you were such a fan. Would’ve sent you a signed sweater instead of the one you have.” Y/n said while continuing to eat her food. Hazel’s smiled started to form slowly while looking down at her Y/n’s merch. 

“I had to fight someone for this sweater, Ln. Now you should understand how big of a fan I am. So if you give me a signed one, I’ll love you forever” She said jokingly while leaning towards the pile of papers picking one up reading Y/n’s messy writing on a scrunched up piece.  

“Please don’t laugh at it. I tried my best.” Y/n muttered while placing her head on the table hiding her face from Hazel. 

“No, Y/n. You’re off to a good start. Let me help you out. Maybe we can come up with something together. You wrote here, I feel the blank, creeping up on me, what did you really want to write? Come on don’t be shy” She asked, while her eyes reread the lyrics. Her hand reached towards her guitar case, took her acoustic guitar out and placed it on her lap. As she strummed the guitar tuning it, Y/n felt herself smile. She wanted to write a love song and as much as she wanted to push Hazel away, the only thing she could think about was Hazel and her lavender sweater. 

“Lavender Haze” She muttered softly onto the table. Hazel straightens up trying to see her facial expressions. Y/n slowly raised her face up looking at Hazel.  

“Speak up, pretty girl,” Hazel said, sending her way an encouraging smile. Y/n felt herself blushed, feeling completely flustered by Hazel’s actions. 

“Lavender Haze. I feel a Lavender Haze creeping up on me. ” Y/n replied confidently, while  she watched Hazel nodded writing down on the paper. 

“Well, Y/n. Let’s make Lavender haze a real hit, baby” Hazel replied, passing her the pen with a confident smile. That’s how two girls that supposedly hated each other wrote a song at midnight about the Lavender Haze. 

...

Thank You so much for reading.

[next part]

previous chapter

[psychesalcove]

„ WHEN YOURE ALL ALONE, ILL REACH FOR YOU (when you're fellin' low, i'll be there too)

↳ COLLEGE AU! JASON GRACE X GN! READER ”

requested: yes, from amandamariee

⚠️: reader is a bit of an overachiever, crying, being overwhelmed bc of school work, shitty ass writing (sorry gang) not proofread AT ALL

in which ; jason comforts reader who is overwhelmed by school work due to finals.

a/n: thank you so much for the request babes!! i hope this lives up to your expectations,, i loveee fluff and comfort fics so so much like it's actually scary 😔 ALSO i made the reader have a history major – just in case anyone was wondering :)

finals season was upon the students of new rome. cafes were filled to the brim with students, workbooks, and the sound of typing on laptops (that were specially made for demigods, of course).

you were one of the studnets who found themselves at the cafe more often than you would like to admit. earlier today you were at a popular cafe downtown with annabeth, but, around two hours into your study session, you wanted a change of scenery.

and that's how you found yourself back at the condo you and jason shared.

ᝰ

your wooden desk that you had gotten at ARC had every surface possible filled with studying items. old assignments, papers your professor handed out, your notes, and every color of highlighter imaginable.

your tea (which jason had made for you) was long forgotten on the edge of the desk, close to tipping over onto the carpeted floor of the bedroom. you had been in the same posion on your chair for about an hour and a half, eyes focused on reading an essay you had wrote a couple months ago.

jason would have already had you take a break by now, but he was downtown. you and jason were supposed to meet with the seven for dinner tonight, but you decided to stay home and study more. jason had insisted on staying with you, but with much persistence on your end, he was out the door and on his way downtown.

and of course, when you're studying for the most important test of this year, your dyslexia decided to act up. you had been stuck on the same sentence for about 5 minutes now. the words kept getting jumbled in your mind, floating from place to place on the page. the monster attacks you could deal with; but not being able to read a simple sentence?

you sighed heavily through your nose, setting down your pen onto the desk. this essay should be easy to read; you were the one who wrote it after all. your eyes shifted from the essay to the rest of your desk. you had no idea how you were going to manage getting all of the information you needed for the test in your head.

you reached for your laptop that was under a folder, because you decided that it might be easier to do work digital instead of on paper. you quickly logged into your laptop, and went to google classroom.

your eyes were drawn to the notification icon, seeing that there was one. you clicked it, mouse hovering over the writing that appeared on the screen: a comment from your professor.

y/n, i've seen you do amazing work in my class this year. what happened with this? i know you have more potential than what you wrote. i'll have to give you a D for this one, but it shouldn't affect your grade to much considering you have an A. it'll bring it down to an A- or a B at the most. i'll hope you gain your skill back in further work.

oh.

you quickly changed the screen onto where your grades were shown. there it was. a B. you knew that it wasn't a bad grade or anything, especially remembering when percy showed his grades to you once, but it still didn't sit right with you.

this was your best class, the one you always understood and got at least an 80 or higher on. you've never gotten a D.

tears quickly filled up your eyes, causing you to bink rapidly in an attempt to keep them at bay. you looked at the desk, in hopes of feeling better by now staring at the large B on your screen, but it only made it worse. all the papers and assignments quickly overwhelmed you, seeing how much you still had to do.

how will you even pass this test if you can't write a simple article about an artifact?

with that thought in your head, tears quickly started dripping down your face. a rational part of you told you that a small assignment like that didn't show your worth of the class, but the emotional part of you quickly overtook that thought.

as you sat there, posture rigid and tears freely falling down your face, you were to focused on your own being to register the sound of a door opening and footsteps going down the hall twords the bedroom you were in. you only got out of your head when you felt cold hands rubbing up and down your upper back.

"hey, love, what's wrong?" a voice, that you quickly recognized as jason's, said. you didn't know how to verbally respond, so you coughed hard and brought a hand up to your face to try to remove the tear stains from your face.

jasons hands moved from your back to go over your shoulders, hugging you from behind. "how about we get you into a bed first, hm?" he questioned gently, leaning awkwardly so his face was closer to your ear. after registering what he said, you nodded slightly as you made a move to stand up.

jason aided in getting you up, and then put a hand over your shoulder when the two of you started the short walk to the bed. he let you sit first, and then quickly followed in suit. he sat in front of you, letting you get a clear image of his blonde hair and concerned face.

he grabbed your hands and held onto them lightly, giving you the option to leave his grasp at any point. "love, try to copy my breathing, okay?" he instructed, making eye contact with you. he slowly took a deep breath in through his mouth, waiting for you to follow. once he saw the movement , he slowly exhaled through his nose, again, waiting for to follow his breathing pattern.

this continued until jason deemed you collected enough to talk about whatever made you upset. "want to tell me what got you so worked up, my love?" he asked again, softly smiling at you when you two made eye contact.

you quickly explained your situation in a shaken voice, still getting own crying. his eyebrows knitted in concern as he listen to you, and his thumb started slowly rubbing circles on your knuckles when he noticed your teary eyes.

once you finished speaking, he took you into his arms and held you gently. "how about you take a break. i'll make you tea, and you can eat if you want. then, we'll come back, and i'll help you with whatever you need help with. sound good?" he explained, already making a move to stand up with you.

ᝰ

the two of you quickly found yourself in the kitchen. jason had dimed the lights to emit a soft orange glow from above, and turned on the stove light as he filled the kettle up with water.

"you know, you're amazing at what you do, love." jason said, turning to you as he turned off the sink water after the kettle was filled up. "and, i know that you also know that, somewhere in there," he continued, brining up a finger and pointing at his head. you chucked softly, making jason get a small grin on his face from making you laugh, even if it was only little.

he walked over to the stove and placed the kettle on the stove, turning on the stove top, then moving over to where you sat on the counter. he gently wrapped his arms around your waist bringing you into a gentle embrace. "yknow you could have asked for my help earlier, i would have stayed with you, my love." he said as he rested his head on your shoulder.

"i know, but i wanted you to go out. i didn't want to keep up cooped up in here with me just because i didn't want to have dinner with them." you said as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder, bringing you closer to him.

"i never feel 'cooped up' with you, love. and i wouldn't have minded not going, although leo and piper seemd very pressed about you not being there tonight. said they wanted to meet up with you tomorrow to 'add to their gossip'." he said, chuckling lightly at the thought of leo and piper.

you smiled softly as you thought about your friends, knowing how much they meant to you. just then, your stomach growled, notifying both you and jason that you were starving.

"how about we make you some toast? then we can go back and start on some flashcards for you, sound good?" jason asked, pulling away from the embrace and walking over to the pantry, signaling with his hands for you to follow.

[charmercharm3r]

Investments

LFX

Masterlist

wc: 2.3k

Requested

Synopsis: Felix thinks a flashy coat will make him more intimidating.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, softdom!Felix, fem!reader, not really mafia but he's definitely a criminal lolll, money laundering?, oral (f), porn w no plot lol, piv, cream pie

“Don’t you think it’s a bit… excessive?”

The fluffy, exaggerated red pelt that covered his shoulders looked almost too heavy for Felix’s slim frame. Though, it suited him well.

“Not at all. If anything, I don’t think it’s excessive enough. I want everyone to know who’s in charge.” Felix adjusted the collar in the mirror and slicked the right side of his pretty blonde hair back.

“You’re already hard to miss as it is, babe.” You stood from your spot on the bed, making your way behind him and placing your hand over his to get him to face you. Up close, you could see how well the bright red color brought out his skin tone, freckles lining his nose and upper cheeks in a kind facade. Felix gazed down at you sweetly as you reached up to fix the collar yourself, “however, you look hot in red.”

A sly smirk spread across his face, “you think so? Hm, then perhaps this is the perfect thing to wear to the office today.” Leaning in and cupping your cheeks, Felix placed a quick peck to your forehead. “Join me?”

You knew what he did for work wasn’t necessarily… legal, and that it was incredibly dangerous. But Felix assured you time after time that the fear of getting caught wasn’t even on his radar and that he had protection plans in place. That was something you didn’t question further as it probably wasn’t something you should know for your own sanity. Hell, you probably should’ve ran in the opposite direction when he told you what his job was. But for some reason, you just couldn’t.

The warehouse was so far off the map that after all this time together, you still got confused every time you went. But Felix’s hand in yours as his other gripped the steering wheel was comfort enough that the two of you weren’t lost despite not having seen a single building for the past twenty minutes. The enormous coat was discarded in the backseat, leaving your long term boyfriend in just a gray tank top and matching red pants, and to say you wanted to jump his bones would’ve been an understatement. He knew how much you adored his body, even more when there was just a thin barrier between you and his skin. It was like he dressed this way knowing you couldn’t say no to spending more time with him, even if it was at his scary, illegal job.

There were no other cars in the lot as the two of you pulled up, but a single text message and the garage doors of the old warehouse opened up and Felix entered. Ominous as always, you got chills as the dark interior shadowed your car before your eyes adjusted to the dim light. Large machines were lined up in the middle, rows of people wearing gloves and handling the product with tongs and tweezers working away at them doing god knows what. If Felix had told you what he did for a living before bringing you here to witness the stacks of washing machines and dryers tumbling loads of green paper, you would’ve laughed in his face. How could such a charming and sweet person as he is, be involved in money laundering? Let alone, running the entire thing?

Felix didn’t let you dwindle on the recollection too long, putting the car in park and strutting to your side to open the door. You gave him a gentle kiss on the lips as he crowded your view of the working floor, he never did like you looking too closely, not that you were complaining. The less you knew, the better.

You stepped out of the vehicle and opened the back passenger door to grab his obnoxiously large coat, draping it over his shoulders to take his hand as he led you towards his office.

“On track today?” Felix called out to the person at the end of the pathway overlooking the floor.

“Hello Sir, greetings Missus. Ahead of the game today, actually. You were right, new machines were worth the investment. What a… wonderful coat,” the goon gave a quick bow and kept his head low as you and Felix got closer.

“I always am. And thank you,” your boyfriend said lowly, patting the worker on the shoulder when the pair of you passed him and entered his office.

Only once finally in the confines of his private room and locking the door behind him did Felix let out a quivering sigh. Though, you didn’t ask why. He knew you were there to lend an ear if he decided he needed the support. His work was a touchy subject, you didn’t want to add to his already heavy burden by pestering him. However, it seemed he was in a chatty mood.

“I hate that guy,” Felix admitted, coming in close and hugging you from behind with his back to the shaded window that overlooked the work floor.

You melted into the warmth of his chest and coziness of the fluffy red coat, “why?”

“He’s scared of me. I don’t like people who are scared of me. I’m not scary, am I, sweetheart?” He hid his face in the crook of your neck and lowered his voice to rumble against your skin.

“Not in the slightest. But I decided that before I knew you were a crime lord.” Felix laughed deeply and spun you around, taking your cheeks in his hands again.

“So you’re not even the slightest bit afraid?” He was smirking that stupidly attractive smirk and tilting his head so catlike.

You shivered, but not from his words so much as the way he was looking at you, that same glimmer of mischief in his eyes that you knew so well. You shook your head, no, “should I be afraid?”

Felix sucked in a deep breath before letting it out and coming in close to your face. You could feel his warm breath against your lips, grazing your own but not quite touching, though you wished he would. Years together and you still feel the electric shock whenever he so much as looks your way. “You don’t have to be,” he whispered and paused as your breath caught in your throat. “But everyone else should.”

He crashed into you with force so strong that you stumbled back until your ass hit the desk. Felix immediately drew your dress high on your hips and lifted you on to it without breaking the kiss, roaming his hands up and down your body while you laced your fingers in his hair. You struggled to breath at the sheer intensity at which he ravaged your mouth, tongues and spit mixing and echoing throughout the thin walled room. You silently thanked the heavens that the blinds were closed, it wasn’t particularly high up on your to-do list to be watched by all of his employees.

Nipping lightly at your neck then falling to his knees in front of you, Felix dragged your underwear just below your knees and ducked under them to toss your legs over his shoulders and spread them wide. He dove in without hesitation to lick a fat strip up the center of your core and have you whine out in sudden stimulation. As if he didn’t have you last night as well, he suckled and slurped and tongued at you like a hungry dog, no interest in stopping or slowing down. Felix was especially good with his lips, plump and thick cupping around your bundle of nerves so nicely as you clenched around nothing, eventually enticing your first orgasm out of you from his mouth alone. You squeezed his head between your legs and knocked away whatever was on his desk as you leaned back to keep from falling over, calling out his name with a high pitched cry.

He huffed and puffed for air when you finally released him, already pulling his pants down and clearing the desk behind you entirely so you could lay back. Felix guided your knees around his torso and lazily pumped himself a few times before swiping his red tip at your wetness. Between the delirious satisfaction you felt and the similarity of the color of the coat and the head of his cock, you couldn’t suppress the giggle leaving your mouth. “Oh no,” you hummed, “such a big, scary villain! What are you gonna do to me?” The feigned fear made him grin down at you and pull the top of your dress as far down as it’d go. In the process, he got a little too excited and ripped the seam down the front and side of the dress.

“Gonna make you scream my name, pretty baby. Gonna make sure everyone out there knows who you belong to.” He swiped the tip across your sensitive clit, making you whine a little more, but feel even more desperate for his touch. You pulled him down by the collar of the coat for a heavy, heated kiss, Felix falling and catching himself with both hands on either side of your head. Amidst the saliva being swapped he managed to blindly fumble to find your entrance and push in, both you moaning into one another's mouths.

The stretch was dizzying, you dug your heels into his back to reach further into your deepest parts and nudge the sweet spot. The coat was proving to be rather practical, making a wonderful harness of sorts for you to hold on to just because you wanted him to stay close.

Felix moved his hips slowly at first, working you up and letting you have your way for a few moments longer. But he was growing too desperate, unable to hold back now that he was buried in your warm, wet, pulsing walls. He placed a few more loving kisses to your lips knowing nothing he was doing to you was anywhere near appropriate for work. Not that he cared, he’s the boss, he can do whatever the fuck he wants.

Including fucking you senseless for everyone to hear.

He stood up again and let your hands keep hold of the hem of his fluffy red coat, big enough to cover your body if anyone decided to come wandering in. Felix brought his thumb to your mouth and pushed in, letting your saliva coat the digit to and bring it back down to your clit, rubbing slow, perfectly practiced figure eights into it. You convulsed tighter around his cock, slick sounds filling the room and he was hardly even moving. Though, as his pace picked up, the wetness was overtaken by skin on skin and the creaking of the wooden desk beneath you. Deep grunts accompanied your wails of pleasure as his thumb failed to cease its assault to your nerves and make you feel trapped in a whirlwind of bliss. His smell surrounded you and made it hard to breathe, his skin was so warm and he sounded so pretty, you couldn’t focus on anything except him, him, him.

“C’mon baby, where are your manners? It’s polite to praise whoever is doing you a service,” Felix’s voice seemed to have dropped into octaves you didn’t think was possible despite knowing you’d heard it hundreds of times. He never failed to amaze you.

“Fuck– more, baby, please. So sexy, so good, so big– ahh!” His pace picked up exponentially, short and quick ruts into your cunt instead of long strides to hit your g-spot at a consistent pace. Eyes rolling back, you could feel the knot in your belly tightening every time his pelvis hit yours, every delicious rub against your clit, he knew exactly how to make you melt.

“Say my name,” he demanded, his lower lip finding its way between his teeth and brow furrowing in concentration.

“Li– fuck– Lix, baby, god–”

“Again,” a not light, but not too rough of a slap he sent to your ass, causing your hips to buck into his hand.

“Baby, please! Gonna–”

“Say. My. Name,” each word menacingly punctuated in between thrusts.

“Fuck– F– Felix!”

The cry must’ve reached the logical part of his brain and allowed mercy, “shit– cum, sweetheart.”

He fucked you through your orgasm, letting both his hands grip your waist and take advantage of the erratic movement of your walls, quick staccato’d thrusts into you that prolonged the high. Once the light faded from the back of your eyelids, you were able to coerce your boyfriend into his own bliss, “fill me up, baby. Show everyone, who do I belong to?”

Felix’s head fell back as he sunk into you and let the groan rumble from within his chest, seed coating your walls and milking him dry. His hips twitched as he attempted to come back to earth and regained his breath. Slowly his head rolled back around to look down at you with the largest smile, “you should come to work with me more often.”

“I don’t think your employees would appreciate me taking up all your time,” you could only manage to whisper seeing as your throat was dry and sore.

“Doesn’t matter what they think. They work for me, I’m in charge.” Felix bent over and kissed you, soft and sweet, the same way you knew him to be. You hummed against his lips, “mhm.” 

He pulled out shortly after a few more moments of reassuring smooches, maneuvering to step aside and pull your panties back up while readjusting your dress. Felix laughed at the state of you while he fixed himself up as well, patting down your messy hair and gesturing at your smudged lipstick.

Thumb to your lips, there was a knock at the door. Felix yelled, “come in,” to reveal the same worker from earlier.

“Sorry to…” the employee looked at you then at his boss, “...interrupt. But Mr. Bang is here to collect.” Your boyfriend merely nodded his head and the goon disappeared again.

Felix turned to you, taking you in his arms again for a tight embrace and chaste pecks to your cheek. “Sorry, sweetheart. Time for business.”

-

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @leebitsimpracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @kaitchan @iadorethemskz

[sungbeam]

𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 — teaser

nonidol!ji changmin x f!reader

messing around with demonic rituals isn't exactly how you imagined getting bound to changmin's soul. (note to self: salt circles don't work when you draw the pentagram inside it...)

▷ genre, teaser warnings. f2l, technically a college au, demon au (it's different from night terrors i swear.), comedy (it's really not scary), suspense/mystery, low fantasy/supernatural elements, mentions of rituals and pentagrams

▷ estimated word count. 25-30k; teaser word count. 0.8k

▷ projected release date. thurs, oct 31st

a/n: i'm a little FKN TERRIFIED to post this tbh 😭

A change in expression flickered across Changmin's face. It was brief, almost instinctual. You swore it looked like mild irritation, but it was gone before you could be sure. “You should probably answer the door.”

“Answer the what?”

You nearly yelped at the sound of loud knocking at the apartment door. Confusion pummeled you first, then you were swearing. “Chan.” You forgot he was stopping by.

“I'll be right back,” you said, moving toward the bedroom door.

“It’s fine. I need to go looking for answers.” Changmin stopped you before you went out, and you couldn't suppress the violent shudder when the invisible line in your chest pulled taut. “And Yn? Don't do anything stupid.”

You made a face at him from over your shoulder. “I'm already soul-bound to you by accident. How much more stupid can this get?”

He threw his hand up in the air. “Just don't do anything Hyunjae or Shuhua would do. Actually, just don't tell any of them about what I just told you.”

Why not? You were about to ask when you heard Chan's voice at the door calling out to you. Another swear fell from your mouth and you rushed out into the hallway to rip the door off its hinges.

Chan startled as it opened, his eyes going wide like a deer's in the bright hallway lights. There was a loose blue hoodie hanging over his green dinosaur pajama pants. He had his phone in his hands along with a paper bag undoubtedly carrying the legendary banana muffins. “Oh, hi. Sorry, is someone here with you? I thought I heard another voice.”

You braced a hand around the doorframe. Don't tell anyone. “Ah,” you winced, the lie curling up your tongue, “I was just on a call with a friend and he wouldn't shut up. Sorry about the wait.”

“No, it's no worries,” he insisted with a classic, easygoing smile. It made the adrenaline in your veins calm somewhat. Chan had always been a good presence to be around. There was something perpetually warm about his persona that made you want to stay in his orbit. “Oh, right!” He handed you the bag. “These are all yours. Mingyu says to let him know how they taste this time around, as always.”

As you accepted the bag, your face lit up like a Hollywood billboard. “I can guarantee that they will taste as divine as always. Tell him thanks for me” —you glanced up sheepishly from the paper bag— “and also, thanks for stopping by. I wish I was home earlier so you didn't have to drive all the way back.”

You didn't realize your face had contorted into a grimace. If only you had come straight home instead of indulging your friends’ curiosity tonight. Then, you would have been here with the banana muffins and one less soul-bond to worry about; and you would have been none the wiser to the fact that one of your college friends was a demonic entity.

Hadn't Changmin mentioned that you were now emotionally and metaphysically bound? Did that mean he could feel your emotions?

The smile had long since slipped from your face, but now your hands grew cold. When you got your muffins just now, did he know—

“Yn?”

You perked up at the sound of your name. Chan's hand froze midair, then retracted back to his pocket. Concern shone on his face as stark as day.

“Are you okay? You look like you just forgot you have something due tonight,” he chuckled half-heartedly, but the sheen in his eyes told a different story.

“Oh.” You forced out a laugh. “I'm fine! Yeah, I was just reminded of something. Actually—uhm, I shouldn't hold you up for any longer. It's getting late.”

Chan stared at you for a moment longer, and for that seemingly infinitesimal second, you feared he could see the invisible knot tied to your ribcage. “Right,” he said suddenly while shaking his head. “You should get some sleep.”

Your hand reached for the doorknob. “Thanks for dropping by again.”

“Wait” —his palm pressed against the door to keep you from closing it— “are you sure you're okay?”

It was as if your guilt was written in plain words across your forehead: No! I just became magically handcuffed to one of my demonic friends! And I also sat in a pentagram salt circle less than two hours ago! Please help me!

You channeled all your energy into a convincing smile. “Yes, I promise I'm okay. Have a good night, Chan.”

It was enough. That easygoing beam graced your eyes once more and he took his hand back. “Okay,” he said, “good night.” He waved to you as he turned on the ball of his foot, and you waited until he turned the corner before closing the door.

Your entire body deflated as you let out a rather dramatic sigh. That sigh turned into a loud groan, which eventually escalated into a borderline scream.

Like a woman possessed (would possession have been a better outcome than this?), you slunk back into your bedroom with your treasures in your grasp. “Hey,” you muttered as you kicked the door closed, “I'm… back.”

The room was vacant. Not a trace of the blond demon could be found.

“Son of a gun.”

permanent taglist 1: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @lotties-readings @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @gluion @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu

[libraryofgage]

The Prince and the Metalhead

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One Queen Clarisse One (you're here!)

Despite the title, this series will focus a little more on Steve growing up in Genovia for the first few parts. That being said, there will be Steddie because this whole thing was inspired by my desire to write a modern royalty AU.

So, ya know, it's coming lol

For now, just enjoy Steve being raised by our favorite queen.

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

------

Clarisse stares at the two-story house from the driveway. It looks incredibly...American. It's American in a way that Amelia's home and city aren't. This house is the Ideal American Home, the kind people are told is the goal in life, the kind with no personality and no distinguishing features compared to other houses on its street. It's the kind of house she'd never see in Genovia, and she's glad for it.

"Your Majesty," Joe says, pulling her attention from the house to her driver. "If you are nervous, may I suggest returning another day?"

She knows exactly what he's doing. It still works. She still pulls herself together, rolls her shoulders back, and raises her chin. "A queen is never nervous. She is simply calculating her approach."

With that, she opens the door and gracefully (the kind of grace that comes with years of practice) steps out of the car. She smooths down her clothes, takes one more deep breath, and strides to the front door. Joe is just a step behind her, always a step behind her, as she rings the doorbell and waits.

A few moments pass, the blinds in the window next to the door shift, and then the door is pulled open. A young boy, certainly no more than ten, stands before her, looking nervously between Clarisse and Joe.

And could you blame Steve? The only visitors he gets when his parents are gone are secretaries that sweep into the home, make sure he's alive, and leave right after. Nobody rings the doorbell, nobody knocks, and nobody knows he's alone in the big house, just like his parents told him it should be.

"Hello," the lady says, her accent vaguely European and similar to his father's. "Are you Steve Harrington?"

If she knows his name, maybe she's been sent by his parents. She looks fancy enough, and the guy with her looks scary enough. Steve grips the door tighter and nods once. "Yes, ma'am," he says, his voice soft and barely a whisper so he doesn't upset her.

"Good. Is your father home?"

"No, ma'am."

That makes her pause, her lips tugging down in a frown, and Steve wonders if he's already failed whatever test this must be. His father will give them sometimes, in the rare moments he's home, and it's always to measure how polite Steve his, how proper, how cultured. This must be a new kind of test, a way for his father to further measure him. He gathers himself, takes a subtle breath, and asks, "Would you like to come in?"

"You don't know who we are," the man suddenly says. "Why are you inviting us in?"

Oh. He's failing this test already. Steve bites his lip, ducking his head. "It's polite to invite people in," he says. "But, um, could you tell me your names first?"

He glances up to see that frown on the lady's face deepen, and his stomach starts to churn. "Yes, of course," she says, clearing her throat before continuing, "I am Clarisse Renaldi, and this is Joe."

Steve looks between the two of them before slowly nodding. "Please, come in," he says, holding the door open. The two adults are hesitant but enter the home anyway, watching Steve as he shuts the door silently and locks it. "This way, please."

He leads them to the living room, looks at the books and papers spread on the coffee table, and blushes. "I'm sorry for the mess," he says, quickly sweeping everything off the coffee table and holding it close to his chest. "I was doing homework and didn't expect visitors. Please, sit. I'll get some tea."

With that, he turns on his heel and hurries out of the living room. He presses his back against the wall, eyes closed and heart racing as he listens to the man and woman talk. "He's very polite," the woman says, sounding pleased and surprised.

"Too polite," the man replies, "What ten year old says things like expecting visitors and offers to make tea?"

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat and hurries to the kitchen. He puts his papers and books on the small table there, climbs the stool in front of the sink to fill a kettle with water, and then climbs the stool in front of the stove to place it down. He turns on the burner, watching the flames jump before getting cups, a teapot, tea leaves, and a tray to place it all on.

In total, the process from heating the water to pouring it over the leaves in the pot and carrying that to the living room is no more than eight minutes. It still feels like an eternity, though, when Steve knows each second is a mark against him. "I'm sorry for making you wait," he says as he enters the living room, carefully placing the tray on the coffee table. He pours a cup for the woman first, then the man, and then himself, careful not to spill a drop.

"Did you make this yourself?" the woman asks, picking up her teacup and taking a polite sip.

When Steve nods, he gets a tiny smile in return. And then the man says, "Aren't you a little young to do these things?"

Steve has been taught how to answer questions like this, ones that imply his parents aren’t doing enough to raise him. He picks up his teacup, holding it in his hands and letting the warmth transfer to his palms. “I like making tea,” he says, keeping his voice steady, “so Mother taught me how to use the stove safely.”

Joe looks ready to say more, but Clarisse clears her throat. He shuts his mouth, picking up his own cup just to do something. “When should we expect your father, Steve?” Clarisse asks, placing her teacup back on its plate. She’s seated on the edge of the couch, her ankles tucked together so her legs are at a slant and her back perfectly straight. 

He can’t lie. If they stay, they’ll know he’s lying when his father doesn’t return. Maybe they just want to see his father, and Steve can let them think his mother will be home soon and convince them to leave before she is. He decides this is a good plan and says the extremely familiar words, “He’s away on a business trip.”

That earns him a frown, but before he can try to fix his mistake, Clarisse nods once and asks, “What about your mother, then?”

Steve tenses, dropping his gaze to his teacup and scrambling to find an answer. He swallows around the nervous lump in his throat, takes a sip of his tea, and feels his stomach twist when he still doesn’t have anything to say in response. 

“How long have your parents been gone?” Joe asks. 

The question pierces through him so harshly that Steve’s hands twitch, tea splashing over the edges of the cup and onto his fingers. He hisses at the temperature, quickly setting the cup down and getting a tissue to wipe the tea away. 

“What do you mean gone?” Clarisse asks.

“There are no cars in the driveway and no adult shoes by the door. We passed the kitchen on the way here, and only one set of dishes is in the drying rack. Stools have been placed wherever a child might need to reach something too high for them otherwise. Dust is on the shelf with adult books, but the smaller shelf with movies appropriate for children is clean, implying regular use. Finally, my men have informed me that Mr. and Mrs. Harrington boarded a plane headed for Hong Kong from London.”

Steve’s eyes widen as Joe speaks, his stomach twisting ever tighter with each word. When Clarisse looks back at him, his eyes begin to sting and he looks down at his lap. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice quiet as he clenches the hem of his shirt. 

“What on Earth are you apologizing for?” Clarisse asks, sounding so insulted that Steve shrinks in on himself. “You are not to blame for your parents’ incompetence and negligence. Of all the things your father has done, abandoning you to fend for yourself is unforgivable.”

Oh. She’s…angry for him? Steve looks up, meeting Clarisse’s eyes and wondering why she cares. And then, because he thinks she can’t possibly be any angrier, he takes a risk by asking, “Why are you here?”

Clarisse pauses, blinks twice, and then gathers herself. Her shoulders relax some, but her back remains straight. “I am Clarisse Renaldi, Queen of Genovia, and your grandmother.”

Steve stares at her, glances at Joe to see if this is some kind of joke, and then looks back when all he gets in return is a blank stare. “My…grandmother?” he asks, his voice quiet.

“Yes. Your father, Richard Harrington, is my son. He was…well, he involved himself in troublesome schemes and had to leave Genovia and the line of succession. We keep tabs on him, of course, but all contact is otherwise restricted.”

None of that surprises Steve. He’s heard his father complaining when he has a bit too much whiskey, muttering under his breath about betrayal and being forced from his home and that it was only a few million he took. 

“I…still don’t know why you’re here.”

“Yes, well, the Crown Prince of Genovia has recently passed, and you are next in the line of succession. So, I traveled here to meet you and bring you back to Genovia for a proper education befitting a Crown Prince.”

Steve is staring at his lap again, his mind turning. So much information has been given to him, and he can only focus on the part that makes his heart speed up with hesitant hope. “Would…would my parents go with us?” he asks.

“Your father is still barred from Genovia. Your mother is welcome, though.”

“Does she have to go with us?”

He looks up in time to see Clarisse pause, tilting her head as she considers him for a moment. “No, Steve, neither of your parents must accompany us,” she says.

“Will I ever be alone?”

“The royal family employs upwards of 300 staff to keep the palace running smoothly,” Joe says, nodding once to confirm that number when Steve gives him an incredulous look. 

“Members of staff will be assigned to you as well,” Clarisse adds, smiling softly when Steve returns his attention to her. “At least three maids, several private tutors, at least one playmate for social development, and a personal team of security to keep you safe.”

Something lifts from Steve’s shoulders then. He’s not stupid. He knows his parents aren’t good. He learned that last year when he realized that other kids’ parents picked them up from school and gave them hugs and surprised them with pizza nights and just smiled at them. Steve looked at those parents, thought of his own, and quietly accepted that they either sucked or he just hasn’t figured out what will make them love him yet.

A tiny part of him knows that nothing will.

“Will you be my new mother, then?” Steve asks.

He watches Clarisse’s surprised expression morph into something unsure. “I will certainly be taking on a parental role,” she says, the words slow.

Steve looks down again, trying to ignore the disappointment that stirs in him when he realizes she’s just trying to spare his feelings. She won’t be a mother; she’ll be like his teacher. She’ll be someone who makes sure he learns what he should, eats when he should, and passes him along to the appropriate person when there’s a problem. 

Still, she’s nicer than his own parents, and Steve won’t be alone if he goes to Genovia. If nothing else, it will be better than this empty house and his absent parents. “If I packed right now, can we leave?” he asks.

When Clarisse agrees, Steve excuses himself and goes to his room. 

Once he’s out of sight, Clarisse looks at Joe and says, “He’s a very mature child.”

“He shouldn’t be.”

Clarisse nods once in agreement, looking down at the teapot in front of them and wondering if Steve has ever burned himself on it. “I believe he’ll take to being royalty well,” she says.

When she looks up, Joe is frowning. “If I may speak freely, Your Majesty?” he asks. When Clarisse nods, he clears his throat. “Before he can be royalty, he needs to be a child. For his own good, he needs a parent, not someone taking on a parental role. You may not be his mother, Your Majesty, but you are his grandmother. You have the ability to give him the unconditional care and love he’s been deprived of so far.”

“I suppose you have a point,” Clarisse admits, frowning slightly in thought. “I just…”

“You are worried he will be like his father.”

“Yes.”

“He is not his father. You cannot project the wrongdoings of Richard onto Steve. It is unfair to him and you. He deserves a fresh start, one that is not burdened by his father.”

“I will think on it,” Clarisse says, already knowing she’s going to do as Joe has suggested. “In the meantime, look into parenting books. If nothing else, Steve’s maids and tutors can review their contents as he grows.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

--------------

Genovia is small, but the palace is huge. It towers over Steve like something out of a Disney movie, and he almost falls behind during the brief tour through its halls. He manages to catch up, though, meeting Clarisse’s stride just in time for her to gesture at a set of double-doors and say, “Beyond these will be your rooms.”

“Rooms?”

“Yes, more than one,” Clarisse says, smiling down at Steve as she leads him past the doors and into a sitting room. A group of people are already gathered there. Most of them are adults, but a few younger children are playing with a Lego set in the corner and a girl and boy his age are standing with the adults. “These are your personal staff members.”

Before Steve can say anything, one of the women steps forward, her smile warm and her face framed by her brown hair. “It’s nice to meet you, Your Highness. My name is Joyce. I’ll coordinate your schedule and make sure your rooms are taken care of. My husband, Jim, will be the head of your security team, and my eldest son, Jonathan, will be one of your playmates,” she says, pointing to her husband and then the boy his age.

“Feel free to call me Hopper, Your Highness,” her husband says.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jonathan adds, smiling politely in a way that Steve painfully understands as fake and forced.

Joyce steps back, and a black woman steps forward. “My name is Sue. I’ll be in charge of your education. That means I’ll be arranging your tutors, making sure your lessons match what a child your age should be learning, and overseeing your Royal Education with Her Majesty. My husband, Charles, will be your science tutor.”

Steve glances at Charles when he waves and nods in greeting. His smile, at least, seems more genuine than Jonathan’s was, and Sue is so straightforward that Steve finds it refreshing. 

The last woman steps forward. She’s a little heavier than the other two, and she’s wearing an apron that has stains smeared across it. “Wonderful to meet you, Your Highness. I’m Claudia. I’ll be in charge of your diet and medical needs. If you’re allergic to anything or just plain hate certain foods, let me know.”

She steps back, leaving only the young girl. With a grin, she moves to stand in front of Steve and holds her hand out. “Name’s Robin,” she says, “I’m supposed to be your friend, but Her Majesty and I’ve got an agreement that I can ditch you if you suck. If I stick around, I’ll be trained by Hopper to be your personal guard.”

It’s so sudden and blunt that Steve can’t stop his grin as he takes Robin’s hand and shakes once. “To make things fair,” he says, “I should get to ditch you, too.”

Her eyes light up, and Steve thinks he’s done something right, which is an odd but welcome feeling. She lets go of his hand but stays by his side, standing close enough that their shoulders brush as Clarisse gestures for Joyce to take over the tour. He’s introduced to the children playing with Legos first, bombarded with their names (Dustin, Will, El, Lucas, and Erica) and which parents they belong to, before moving on to the rooms. 

In total, he has five: the sitting room, a classroom, a small library, an empty room that he can do whatever he’d like with, and his bedroom. The bedroom has its own bathroom with a shower attached, but there are extra bathrooms in the other rooms, too. He’d count his closet as another room entirely, but he’s not ready to admit he really has six rooms. 

He’s still too overwhelmed by the giant bed and the rooms that all belong to him and this group of people that will always be around him. He turns to Clarisse, ready to thank her, when she smiles at him and says, “There is one more thing.”

Something else? There’s more? What more could there possibly be? What else could he be given? Steve watches as she walks to the door that leads into the bathroom, steps inside, and comes back out holding something that squirms slightly in her arms. 

She quickly deposits the thing in Steve’s arms, and he stares wide-eyed at the Rottweiler puppy that starts sniffing at his hands and neck. “What?” he asks.

“She’s yours, Steve. Rottweilers are very loyal dogs, so she’ll stay by your side. They’re also loyal and protective. Once she’s grown, she’ll keep you safe, too.”

“What am I then, chopped liver?” Robin asks, pouting slightly as she looks at the dog. She leans closer to it and yelps when she gets licked. 

Steve can’t help laughing, holding the dog closer to his chest. “Does she have a name?” he asks.

“Yeah! It’s Dart!”

Steve looks over his shoulder at Dustin, meeting his curly hair and slightly gummy smile. Next to him, Claudia flushes slightly and hurriedly says, “You don’t need to listen to him, Your Highness. You can name her whatever you’d like.”

“No, I think Dart is good,” Steve replies, looking down at the dog and gently scratching behind her ears. She perks up, her entire body wiggling with excitement, and Steve feels something hopeful and optimistic settle in his chest.

--------

Tag List (let me know if you'd like to be added to future parts!)

@y4r3luv

[oneforthemunny]

orrr maybe earlier in the relationship with Janitor Eddie, they go through a haunted maze/haunted house together

falling |janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader|

prompt: a "haunted house" looks a little different at hawkins elementary's fall festival. apart of my spooky stories series <3

“Are you scared?” Eddie muttered, hands rubbing down your arms sweetly. 

“Terrified.” You grin, turning to look back at him. “Think I should use the bathroom now? Might pee on myself, I’ll get so scared.” 

A laugh bubbled up out of Eddie’s chest, dimples deepening with a stretched smile. “Yeah? Jeez, babe, now you’ve got me worried.” Eddie looked at the entrance of the small gym door- the old gym, from years and years before. The school still kept the building, used it for parties and storage- for the Haunted House during the Hawkins Elementary Fall Festival. 

“Didn’t know your kids were this scary.” Eddie hummed, stepping up slowly as the line moved. 

“Terrifying. You didn’t know?” You teased, eyes sparkling the way they always did when you joked with him. It made Eddie swoon. “Steve’s a lot braver than me. Offering to work it this year. He’s a Saint for that.” 

“Yeah, he is…” Eddie muttered, hands balling in his leather jacket pocket. He definitely did it out of the goodness in his heart, and not the thirty dollar bribe Eddie gave him so he could spend the night with you. 

“I’m excited to see it though.” You chirped. “They’ve been working so hard in art. We had to cut bats out the other day- do you know how hard it is to cut a bat with kiddie scissors?” 

“Never tried, but I can imagine.” Eddie smiled. “I don’t know how your fingers even fit in those. My hands cramp thinking about it.” 

“Years of practice.” You bump your hip playfully with his. “Pretty much an entire semester in college. I swear, all we did was cut construction paper and make arts and crafts for different projects. It was the best and the worst class. My hands were sticky for a semester.” 

“That’s… wow, actually now that you say that, I do remember Steve taking that class.” Eddie laughed, curls bouncing with every soft shake of his head. “He was always covered in glitter. Just unexplainably glittery.” 

You laughed, that crystal, beautiful laugh that had Eddie’s knees wobbling. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” 

It was your turn next, stepping up to the small box where a student and chaperone sat. Amanda, from your class. “There’s just two of us.” You grin at her. 

Her eyes flitted back from you and Eddie, grinning with her own excitement. “That’s two tickets.” She held her hand out, taking the tickets eagerly. The chaperone handed her the stamp, a scaredy cat outline in purple ink. She hesitated on Eddie’s hand, stamping it on his un-tattooed knuckles. 

You waved goodbye, arm snaking around Eddie’s, pushing the streamers to the side. “Guess the secret’s out.” You mutter, the stamp glowing in the black light of the dark room. 

“Guess so.” You could feel Eddie tense slightly, a shaky breath. “You-You’re cool with it?” 

You rolled your eyes lightly. “Eddie, I don’t care what my fourth graders think about my love life.” You shake your head. “We’re gonna be a hot topic at recess, that’s all.” 

“Yeah? Kinda boosts my ego.” Eddie puffed his chest out playfully. 

“I can tell.” You giggle. “Head’s getting bigger already.” 

“Could be my hair.” Eddie ran a hand down his curls. “Kinda hot in here. Think my curls are starting to frizz.” 

“I think they look good.” You hum, smoothing a sweet hand down the curly locks, still soft and clean from the shower he took earlier. His hair was damp when he picked you up, from a rushed shower and too impatient to let it dry all the way; too excited to see you. 

“Enter if you dare,” The dramatic, scary tone of Steve Harrington- in his Dracula ensamble- floated down the hallway. “And don’t touch, ok? Hands to yourself. Have a good time.” Steve nodded, letting the kids down the hallways, dark with animated, age appropriate scary sounds courtesy of the Halloween Screams CD playing on a loop. 

“Hey, you’ve been in here three times, and you only have one stamp. You sneaking in here or just not leaving?” Steve frowned, stopping the boy in the Donatello costume. 

You laughed, pulling Steve’s attention to you. He rolled his eyes. “Just- Last time or get in line like everyone else, alright?” Steve nodded towards the Ninja Turtle. 

“What? You’re not doing the voice for us?” Eddie grinned, brows raised in amusement. 

“Shut up, Munson.” Steve muttered, pulling the plastic fangs out of his mouth. “Shoulda charged you more.” 

Eddie glared at him, eyes cutting to you. You were too busy looking at the decorations, waving to your own excited students. “Wow, Harrington. This is very scary.” 

“Yeah? You jealous? Want to switch with me?” Steve snorted lightly. 

“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “I would never want to deprive you of this. You’re really in your element.” 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up you two. You’re doing the Christmas party. You think candy is bad? Wait until it’s candy, and hot chocolate, and winter break. See who’s laughing then.” Steve quipped, an eye roll that had both you and Eddie laughing, leaning in to each other. 

“Alright, go in. Don’t touch anything. These decorations are barely hanging on.” Steve pulled the curtain. 

You clung to Eddie’s arm- for your students, you told him, so they would think you were scared. Eddie didn’t mind, of course. He was more than happy to have you on his arm. Watching your exaggerated expressions, the kids' dramatic scares and giggles that followed when they saw it was you. For once, whispers following when he passed down the hallways didn’t bother him. They were different from the ones from years before, when he was in Hawkins Elementary as a student, a lanky, skinny boy with holes in his clothes; who never had a Halloween costume unless he made one, and then the kids made fun of him. 

He would have killed for a teacher like you. Someone who would’ve been kind to him. You brought in extra costumes, bought from the Salvation Army, put them in your treasure chest for the kids like him, who didn’t have a costume. You picked up shifts at Melvald’s to pay for extra things around the holidays, working on weekends and nights when you could for some extra money. Gave up your own time so your kids could be happy; it made Eddie’s head spin in the best way. 

You sat across from Eddie on the wooden picnic table, cradling the plastic tray of cut apples and caramel sauce. “So what’s your fall snack?” You ask, head tilting gently towards him. 

“My what?” Eddie blinked. 

“Your fall snack?” You grin, wiping your hands on the thin napkins. “Y’know, like when fall comes, what’s the one thing you crave? Like caramel apples or pumpkin bread…” 

Eddie smiled, he could feel himself blushing. He didn’t even know why he was blushing, yet the heat still rose from his chest and crept up his collarbones. He hoped you couldn’t see how flushed he was under the streetlights. 

“Uh, I don’t really… Oh, wait.” Eddie grinned. “Fried apple pie with vanilla ice cream.” 

“Fried apple pie?” You lifted a brow. 

“With vanilla ice cream.” Eddie nodded. “You ever had one?” You shook your head. 

“Oh, baby, I gotta take you. When I was little, Wayne would take me to this Amish grocery store out past the quarry. He always got a pie there for Thanksgiving, and he’d get me a fried apple pie and vanilla ice cream. I don’t even like vanilla, but with that? Life changing, baby.” Eddie grinned, sighing. It was heavy but not sad… nostalgic. 

“That sounds amazing.” You grin. “I love vanilla ice cream.” 

“I know.” Eddie smiled. He had remembered that. This summer, after a movie date, he’d taken you to an ice cream parlor. You’d sat in the booth, giggling over melting cones- your vanilla, his chocolate. 

“I’ll, uh, I’ll have to take you sometime.” Eddie nodded, eyes cutting to you carefully. “If you want to.” 

“Yeah,” You smile, nodding. “We should go sometime. Bring Wayne back a pie.”

“God, he’d love that.” Eddie laughed. He’d love you even more than he already does, Eddie mused. The old man was already egging Eddie on, better buy her a ring, boy, she’s a keeper. Eddie knew you were. He’d started saving for rings after your second date, but he’d never tell you that. 

“Thanks for coming with me tonight.” You hum, your own smile small, a little shy. “I know this isn’t like a great date or anything, but my kids like to see me. I like to see them.” 

“No, it’s… I had fun- I’m having fun.” Eddie stuttered, a little nervous. Did he look like he wasn’t having fun? Fuck, he was, he really was. Maybe he should have played it up with the kids, he just didn’t want to take away from you. They were your kids and he’d never want to step in front of you, steal your moment. 

“Yeah?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. Eddie nods, brown eyes wide, curls bobbing. “I’m having fun with you too.” Eddie thought he might pass out. 

“They were so cute, all their little costumes.” You smile, chin resting on your palm. “They get to dress up two times so I know they’re just over the moon.” 

“Yeah, that’s right. Halloween party is Tuesday, right?” Eddie asked. He knew when it was, he was going to have to clean overtime for all the Halloween parties. 

You nodded. “I can’t wait for you to see my costume.” You grin, brows bouncing playfully at him. 

“I can’t either.” Your smile is contagious to Eddie, leaving him grinning and swooning. “You gonna go all in?” 

“No,” You shook your head. “Just a costume. Nothing fancy. The kids like it, so…” You trail off. “It’s not new or anything, I wear it every year, but you’ve never seen it so new to you.” 

“I can’t wait.” Eddie smiled, knee bouncing under the table. 

“Are you going to dress up?” You asked, lashes fluttering towards him sweetly. 

“No,” Eddie scoffed lightly. “I mean, I wasn’t going to. Don’t really have anything. Guess I could wear my Michael Myers mask with my coveralls?” 

You laugh. “Yeah, think you’d really scare the kids.” 

“That’s the point, right? What you’re supposed to do, right? Scare the shit out of them.” Eddie smirked. 

“Might get fired, but worth it, right?” You jest back. 

“Definitely worth it.” Eddie nodded. “Maybe I’ll wear the old coveralls in there. Say I’m dressing up as Sal.” 

You laugh. “That would be really funny, actually.” Your eyes shone under the lights, bright and dazzling back at Eddie. 

“Yeah? Alright, I’ll do it then.” Eddie nodded. “Sorry it’s not a surprise.” 

“That’s ok. Mine will be more than worth it.” You smile confidently at him. 

“I know it will be.” Eddie said quickly, eyes widening. Fuck, had he said that outloud? His eyes widened slightly, watching you carefully- bracing himself for the inward cringe, the snarl, things he was used to in the past. Not from you. No, all that came was a shy smile, chin ducking down to hide your flushing face. 

“You want one?” You ask, breaking the silence with the slide of your tray towards him. 

“I’m ok.” Eddie shook his head politely. 

“C’mon, I know you want one.” You press lightly. “You paid for them.” 

“Yeah, for you.” Eddie countered, giving you a pointed look. “But if you insist.” He hummed, grabbing a green apple, scooping a glob of caramel on it. 

“Would never want to deprive you.” You wink, and Eddie nearly chokes on the chewed apple he’s swallowing. 

One of your kids passes by, waving goodbye, holding their tired mom’s hand. You wave back politely to both of them. 

“Hey, uh,” Eddie starts, sweaty palms rubbing down his jeans. He knows it’s the end of the night. You don’t have any plans further, not yet anyways. “Do you- You like scary movies?” 

“Depends.” You hum, tossing the empty plastic away in the trash bin. “How scary are we talking?” 

“Not crazy.” Eddie slides in beside you, arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. The rides and music are dying down, the Hawkins’ PTA lingering behind with large trash bags, loading station wagons. “Pumpkinhead?” 

“Never seen it.” You shrug lightly. Eddie’s shoulders deflate, heart racing- should’ve said Carrie, he fuckin’ knew it. 

“But I’ll watch it with you, if that’s what you’re asking.” Your eyes meet his, grip tightening around your shoulders. 

“Are you sure?” Eddie falters. “I mean, I was just- we don’t have to.” 

“No, I think that sounds nice. Very on theme for the night.” You smile, leaning into his side, your steps in sync. “One condition, though.” 

Anything. “Yeah, what’s that?” Eddie swallowed, trying to fight back his smile. 

“I get to put M&Ms in the popcorn.” You point at him playfully. “Non-negotiable, Munson.” 

“Done.” Eddie shrugs, fishing for his keys. “M&Ms in popcorn, huh? You’re that typa girl?” Unlocking your door, pulling it open for you. 

“You know I am.” You quip, sliding under his open arm, tossing him a wink before he shut the door. 

Eddie was buzzing with excitement, a dopey smile on his face, too lovestruck to even care. An hour later, you were pressed into his side, head on his shoulder, a bowl of hot popcorn with M&M's scattered inside between the two of you. Eddie hoped you couldn’t feel how he got hard when your hands brushed in the bowl.

[just-wrting]

Definitely a Little Jealous

Title: Definitely a Little Jealous

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: During a case, you can’t seem to be left alone by one officer. Hotch takes matters into his own hands and shows that you’re not available.

Word Count: 2109

Master List

A/N: This was finished on Friday but I had no laptop to put the post together with over the weekend so here it is! A part 2/companion piece to my first Hotch piece!

Part 1

Yesterday marked six months into your relationship with Aaron Hotchner. After the case, you had gotten breakfast with him and it had quickly gone from there. Within only a few weeks, you had made yourselves official between the two of you. Neither of you said anything to the team. It wasn’t that either of you necessarily cared, but more if there was no need to announce it. They could figure it out on their own.

There were times that Hotch did his best to make sure that other people knew you were off limits. Standing behind you when people are looking at your ass, putting himself between you and others when they stand just a little too close, and even pressing his lips to your forehead when someone won’t stop pestering you. It was always the subtle things that kept people from hitting on you. Aaron’s an intimidating man as best and a scary one at worst.

You aren’t really scared of what he would do to the guys hitting on you. Scare them off, intimidate them, maybe threaten them a little but you figure that he’s just being overly worried. After all, you know about what’s happened to him, and you’re sure he doesn’t want to go through that again. Even if it’s just some other guy managing to whisk you away.

“So, agent, if we’re going to work on this case together, maybe we should know each other a little better. There’s this place I know that’s small and local, not to mention it’s amazing.”

You look up at the officer leaning on the table. His hand is spread all over the file you are reading. You wish he would leave you alone already, considering this was the third time he’d tried to ask you out.

“I’m actually super busy right now. Given that there is a serial killer out there and all, I think you should be busy too.”

Hotch walks in. The officer doesn’t even look up at him, instead choosing to give you an expectant look. You can tell that Hotch isn’t very happy with what’s going on. There’s a man trying to prove himself as an “alpha male” by harassing you and ignoring Hotch. Not only is the man impeding the investigation, he’s trying to get with you.

“What’s going on here?” Hotch’s voice makes sure that the officer looks at him.

Before the officer can speak, you answer him. “Nothing. Officer Jones was just leaving.”

The officer's hand crumples the paper it’s on before he stalks off. He certainly wasn’t happy about being interrupted. Not that you cared. You shouldn’t need to flaunt being in a relationship to be left alone.

“Was he bothering you?” Aaron asks mainly to be polite. He already knows the answer.

You lean back in the chair and rub your temples. This officer is pissing you off with his insistence. No matter how many times you say no, he doesn’t listen.

“We both know he is. I wish he’d leave me alone already but it’s not like I can just tell him I have a boyfriend without him asking for proof. I know cause he’s already asked for a picture of him.”

Aaron makes his way over to you and stands behind the chair. His hands run up your arms and grab onto your shoulders. He starts to slowly rub your shoulders and you lean your head into his stomach.

You’ve spent this whole case craving his touch. It’s not that he has been avoiding you, you’ve just been so busy. So much to look into with so little time.

“Aaron?” You ask and he hums in response. “God, I’ve missed just having you touch me.”

He chuckles and gives the top of your head a kiss. “I’ve missed you too. And don’t worry about Officer Jones. I’ll be taking care of him.”

As he says that, you hear the ice in his voice. He’s not pleased about this guy and you know he’s got a million ideas about taking care of him. This most likely ranges from giving him a lecture to the more extreme of giving this man a whole new job that wouldn’t be anything near a woman.

“I know you will, Aaron. If you had your way, you’d make sure that man probably never sees a woman again in his life.”

He doesn’t say anything, but gives your shoulders one last squeeze. You know he’d do a lot for you and yet, you want to ask him to stay just a moment longer. He would, and that’s the thing that would give it all away.

Rossi sticks his head through the door before you can ask anything of Aaron. “I’ll meet you in the car, Hotch. Don’t take too much longer bossing (Y/N) around.”

After Rossi’s head vanishes, you finally ask, “Can I sleep in your room tonight? I don’t think I can keep sleeping by myself.”

Aaron gives you a peck on the cheek as he answers, “You don’t even have to ask.”

With that, your boyfriend walks out the door to join the rest of the team while you sit and look at files. Well most of the team is off poking around various sites and talking to various people, one of them isn’t. You know just what to do to, hopefully, keep officer creepy away.

“Speak and you shall be heard.”

You give a smile as Garcia’s voice comes from the speaker of your phone. She was always there for whatever you needed and you were so happy to hear her voice.

“Garcia, honey, thank you so much for picking up,” you say with relief.

You can hear her smile through the phone, “This isn’t Agent Morgan’s phone number. Did he make you say such sweet things to me, (Y/N)?”

“Oh my technological goddess, can you please just keep me company?” You hear her giggle. “There’s this officer who won’t leave me alone so I figured if there’s another voice maybe he’ll leave me alone.”

You can picture her sitting up straighter and giving a frown. “Which one would this be?”

“Oh Garcia, you don’t have to look into this guy. Hotch already said he’d take care of it.”

You hear her scribble on a pad, no doubt to tell Hotch about making sure you don’t get left behind to be around creeps. “I’ll just ask Hotch later then. Speaking of the devil himself, did you hear the news? Hotch has a mystery lover.”

You pause. So everyone had figured out that Aaron Hotchner was in a new relationship. The only question you had is how many of the team had figured out it was you.

“Oh really? Do spill your reasoning, gossip queen.”

You kept your focus on the files as Garcia talked. You couldn’t let her distract you, even if you wanted to hear everything she was saying. The case came first, the gossip came second.

“Well, he’s been smiling a lot more. At first I didn’t think he was capable of smiling and then I thought maybe he was losing it. But the key thing is, it would usually be at his phone. As if someone was telling him funny things. He never really laughed though so I figured it had to be he was in love.”

“Uh huh. So Hotch has the ability to smile. A fascinating concept.”

Her little ‘hmph’ comes through the phone. “Okay how about this. I was late leaving the office one night and went to leave something on his desk. He’s always there so it wasn’t a surprise when his light was on, but the surprise is that I heard a voice come through his phone. A voice that he said ‘I love you’ to. And I know it wasn’t Jack’s voice.”

She got you there. Aaron is a man who doesn’t say that to many people. It was actually just over a week ago and it was the first time he had told you that.

“Okay, okay. You win. Hotch has a mystery lover that he’s hiding.”

You hear her phone ring and she puts you on hold. You want to spill the beans but you opt to carefully consider what you’ll say next. Maybe having her give an idea of the sort of person he’d now be with would be fun.

A voice behind you spoke up. “Talking about your boss like that, agent?”

You turn the chair around and look at Office Jones. “Actually I was just having a member of my team keep me company. I’ve found three possible suspects. What have you managed to do?”

“How about this, you go out with me. And I don’t tell your boss about this.”

You see Hotch enter the room. “Office Jones, we need to stop meeting like this. What information are you blackmailing my agent about?”

You hear Garcia start to say something but you cut her off. “I called Garcia in an effort to have Officer Jones leave me alone. The topic turned to work gossip about you having a new relationship.”

Garcia profusely apologizes through the phone. “I’m so sorry sir. I was just trying to keep her company and know that your personal life is not for any of us to speculate on. I shouldn’t have taken up a half hour of Agent (Y/N)’s time.”

With that, Garcia disconnects. You know it’s not her fault and you feel bad. Aaron might scold her about it later, but you plan on doing your best to make sure that he doesn’t.

“Officer Jones, I’m going to tell you this only once. If you come near my agent ever again, it will be your last action as an officer. Do I make myself clear?” Aaron’s face is set and his gaze is cold.

You’re hoping Officer Jones will back down but he doesn’t seem keen on doing so. You know you should be bothered by Aaron trying to not fight this guy over his disrespect but you can’t help but get flustered. Hotch being jealous, even a little possessive, is hot.

“Here.” Hotch hands you a little box. “Originally I was going to give it to you yesterday but then we got the case. My next plan was to wait until we got home but I suppose now is a better time.”

The box is a little fuzzy and you immediately know it’s jewelry. It must be a gift for your six month anniversary, but Aaron must have brought it with him on the case.

“You didn’t have to bring it with you,” you protested. “The gift I got you is still sitting at my apartment. And this better not be expensive or I’ll have you hold onto to it for a more special time.”

You open the box anyway. Inside sits a simple gold necklace. The simple gold chain holds a round locket that when you pop open, contains a picture of Aaron and Jack together. When you twist it in your fingers, you feel Aaron’s and your own initials.

“Oh my god. This had to have been expensive,” you whisper. “Aaron, how could you? We agreed on a maximum price.”

Officer Jones looks between the two of you and scoffs. “This is your little boyfriend you won’t show me pictures of?”

Aaron takes the necklace out of the box and clasps it around your neck. You can feel your face get warm and you really wish that it hadn’t come to him being so open about what you were to him. Not that you could’ve stopped him.

“Now if you don’t mind,” Aaron gives Jones a harsh look, “if you even think about disrupting any of my agents while we work on this case, I will be having a word with your superior. Is that understood?”

Jones glances at you before turning and walking out of the room. Rossi walks in to take his place and gives a glance over his shoulder at the officer. The three of you stand in silence for a moment.

“Well glad that got sorted out without a fight. I was worried you might hit him, Hotch. You haven’t been too subtle about your feelings,” Rossi comments with a grin. “I’m not gonna tell the others but I know I will be a little bit richer once you do.”

You put your hands over your face while Rossi’s grin gets even bigger. Aaron sighs and gives him a pointed look that has no effect on the older man. The three of you only start moving once the others start to walk in and wonder what’s going on.

[joocomics]

on zoom

pairing: ceo!jooyeon x fem!reader

genre: smut wc: 1.3k

contains: sub!reader, dirty talk, mutual masturbation + guided masturbation, spanking

you’re in the middle of a zoom meeting with ceo!jooyeon

you did not expect it at all. you just got out of the shower when you received a message that there’s something urgent to talk about. there was nothing you could’ve done except put on the first nice blouse you pull out from your wardrobe, brush your hair and open your laptop in a rush.

because of jooyeon, your boss, you quickly got used to work from home outside of your work schedule. he constantly finds you little unexpected tasks to do or edits to make on something you sent in hours ago, causing you to work even from the grocery store.

ceo!jooyeon is feared by most of your colleagues. he’s demanding, with high expectations, and some may say - high ego too; but you don’t find him scary. you find him tedious. infuriating. maddening to look at, because of how attractive he is.

even now, as you watch him sit back against the headboard of his bed with his blond hair messy and falling into his eyes every time he shifts over to grab a sheet of paper in just a plain black t-shirt… even now he’s unbelievably mesmerising. he has his glasses on, the ones you’ve seen him wear a couple of times during meetings, but everything else from the casual clothes to the view of his clean nightstand and multiple pillows is new and very… intimate.

you try to shove away the thoughts, and focus on his words coming from your laptop without staring too much at his lips, which has always been a challenge.

“will you go get it, please?” he asks, but please from jooyeon’s mouth doesn’t mean he’s asking if you can do something, it means that you have to do it. now. “i want to see something and we’re done here.”

your voice trembles while you look for the right way to word your answer. “i will send you an email with everything from the report so you have everything that may come in handy. right after we—“

“why can’t you just show me the report now?”

his gaze pierces through the screen, making your palms sweat against your bare thighs.

“i don’t… remember where i put it,” you mumble, looking around your room awkwardly, as cold shivers shoot through your half naked body that’s still warm from the long bath.

ceo!jooyeon knows that’s a lie, cause you’re the least neglectful employee he’s ever had. he sighs before tilting his head up to skim your silhouette. he’s an observing person, so the way you sit stiffly barely even moving your arms is not that unnoticeable to him as you think.

he asks when did you become so unmindful of your work, and you apologise, saying that you’re sure you’re going to find it, and if not - it’s probably in your office.

you run your finger on the keyboard nervously, praying the fact you’re naked from the waist down won’t risk your job. your eyes don’t leave jooyeon out of sight as he licks his lips with a contemplative look on his face. the lamp on his nightstand lights up his sharp features nicely, and they only get you more and more distracted. his jawline, his neck, his adam apple, his collarbone that’s peeking from his shirt…

“you should be more careful, y/n. i’m not keeping you here only because you’re hot.”

you nod, as his words echo in your head.

“do i make you uncomfortable?”

“not at all,” you reply on the instant although this was the last question you expected to hear. your high pitched tone eventually turns into a hollow chuckle. “why would you think that?”

“do i turn you on then?”

you breathe in trying to grasp where this is going.

“i think i do,” jooyeon smirks from finding the answer on his own. he fixes the position of his laptop that’s sitting on top of his stomach before placing one arm behind his head, and turning his attention back to you. “you turn me on too, but you probably already know that since the day i hired you. right, sweetheart?”

“actually no,” you admit, “i didn’t know that.”

jooyeon lets out an airy chuckle and glances at you surprised. “i thought i was obvious. i think about kissing you all the time.”

your hand crawls between your inner thighs, and you shamelessly allow your fingers to brush against your exposed clit. it’s all happening under the table; the camera doesn’t catch anything that’s below your stomach, but it’s enough for jooyeon to notice your uneasy breaths and the way you gulp.

“you’re so freaking hot,” he continues in a more relaxed voice, “especially when you wear those tight skirts at work… i can only imagine how pretty your ass looks without them.”

at this point he’s turning you on so much that your index finger easily slips through your folds without you even spreading your legs properly.

“i can show you if you want,” you say softly through a heavy sigh.

those few words bring out a new type of smile on jooyeon’s face - a greedy one; like he just won something, but it’s clear he will still want more.

“go ahead.”

as you stand on your feet, moving your chair back, you observe the way his lips part and his gaze turns more dazed, but also focused at the same time.

“so your pussy has been naked this whole time? were you planning on telling me at all? turn around.”

you hear shuffling noises from the speaker, as you make a step back. when you peek behind your shoulder to make sure what jooyeon wants to see is all caught from the camera, you see his face a lot closer which means that he pulled his laptop forward in order to reach his dick more comfortably.

“gorgeous from head to toe… fuck,” he groans, and the sound of it is so arousing it makes you clench desperately around nothing. “wanna spank that ass so bad.. do it for me, doll, spank yourself.”

your hand rises in the air and quickly lands on your right cheek; a few more slaps follow by jooyeon’s command mixing with his moans. a few for lying about the report, and a few more for attending a meeting with your cunt naked.

“now suck on your fingers and touch yourself,” he mutters, changing the speed of his fist. “slowly.”

as you stay bent over your chair like he said, you move your fingers from your reddish butt cheek towards your heat. two of them glide with ease through your dripping hole, and the feeling is so satisfying, an immediate whine escapes your lips.

“jooyeon—“ you moan from the pleasure of going deeper. despite the building rush, you crave to feel more than just that. you need his presence, his touch all over you.

“yeah, sweetheart?”

“i need more…”

“i know, i know…” his voice comes out heavier than usual, because he needs the same just as much as you do. the sound of his fist starts to become clearer. “keep touching yourself, pretty girl. look how wet you are for me.”

hearing those things from his mouth turn you so lightheaded and impatient, you don’t realise your fingers start moving in and out with their own pace that’s not to jooyeon’s liking. first, you hear the frustrated scoff; the remark that breaks off your pleasure - second.

“you’re disappointing me today, doll, can’t you follow simple instructions anymore?” he listens to your panting while his own arousal begins to overwhelm him too, but he controls his emotions pretty well, even after he keeps switching the speed of his hand depending on your body language. “no?”

you start to disagree, but too late.

“sit down.” his demand rings in the silence of your room, building up your desire. “you should know better, doll. now that pretty pussy is gonna get punished because you refuse to listen.”

after you spread your legs wide for the camera, your hand rises again and drops for a new slap.

“be glad i’m not there to do it myself. i’m not that gentle.”

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i'm outta my head over you (Pt. 2)

Prologue (Pt. 1) | On AO3 here: i'm outta my head over you | the playlist

Pt 2 to my @steddie-week 2023 entry! this is really the 'first day' entry, but pt. 1 is the prologue :P

today's prompt is: pining

Eddie takes his time after Robin leaves. Finishing the cigarette she made him put out and doing his best to focus on the tune he was expirimenting with on his acoustic before he was interrupted. The curiosity gets the best of him though (of course) and he sets his guitar back down, picking up the papers Robin had handed to him.

He starts to read what he had (correctly) thought was a tracklist.

'Heartbeat? Okay, so it's a sappy love playlist.' He thinks to himself. "The hell's that got to do with me?" he asks aloud to no one.

There's a slightly lighter colored scrawl of "Dustin doctor FRIDAY at 3" written into the top margin of this scanned page, like someone had used a different color pen than the rest of the book, and continuing on--

Oh fuck.

Oh shit.

Eddie reads the first sentence, and he suddenly feels like he's going into cardiac arrest.

---------------

Looking back, Steve counts himself insanely lucky that it was Nancy he was dating when he first really noticed Eddie Munson.

Of course, he’d noticed the older boy before, it was hard not to, but the first time he really looked at him, really saw him…he wanted to throw up.

He was actually really pretty. Wait, can a guy be pretty? It doesn’t matter. Eddie is. 

His hair is dark and curly, some curls licking down his face and swirling over his cheekbones, some curling up behind his ears. If it was straight, his hair would definitely look like an overgrown bowlcut. Fuck, it looked soft.

Eddie’s a year above him, a Senior, so it kind of makes sense that he’s a bit broader than Steve is..wait, is he? Or is it just that vest he’s wearing, making him look bigger…

His eyes are dark, brows furrowed, lips yanked back in a snarl–oh yeah, he was in the middle of telling someone off. That’s what called Steve’s attention to him.

“Steve? Are you okay?”

He wrenches his eyes from the side of Eddie’s face to look down at Nancy. He locks eyes with her and was when he noticed how hard his heart was beating.

That, and the fact her eyes were the wrong color.

‘Wrong color?? The hell? They’re blue, they’ve always been blue.’

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine Nance.” Steve looks back up at Eddie. “He’s kinda scary isn’t he. Should I do something?”

“Steve–”

He doesn’t wait for her answer, and approaches Eddie and whoever it is that earned his tirade.

Steve pushes through the gathered crowd, right next to Eddie’s victim. “What’s happening here, guys?” Steve’s snarky ‘King Steve’ smile appears easily on his face, then he notices who he came in next to. “Tommy? What’re you doing man?”

“Oh you know, the usual.” Tommy’s grin makes Steve sick to his stomach. He looks away, down to the empty plastic fountain pop in his hand.

“The usual, huh?” Steve scoffs, turning to Eddie.

Mistake. Mistake! 

Eddie’s dark eyes lock with his and Steve feels weak in the knees ‘ What the hell?? ’

“Welcome to the show, my liege!” Eddie bows low, and Steve sees the short kid that was hiding behind him. Must be a freshman, huge, panicked eyes stare at him under a mass of poofy curly hair (lighter than Eddie’s). An oversized red plaid flannel is resting on his shoulders, and a large dark stain coats his shirt beneath. Ah.

Eddie straightens, and the little freshman is obscured again. That’s when he realizes the denim vest Eddie is wearing is all he’s wearing above the waist. Steve’s stomach twists pleasantly at the sight of Eddie’s pale skin. ‘ What. The. Fuck. Don’t turn red, look away, look away!! ’

Steve locks eyes with Eddie once again, and it’s not much better. Fuck, those eyes…

What the hell is happening to him?? His heart’s beating like crazy. He glances over, and Nancy and her ginger friend with the glasses are watching, twin looks of panic and disgust on their faces.

“Munson here was just introducing me to one of our new little friends!” Tommy’s tone makes Steve’s stomach twist unpleasantly.

“Really Tommy, a freshman? How cliché can you get? Leave the kid alone, man.”

“Really Dude?” Tommy mocks, “What’s it to you? That girl’s making you slip, man.”

It’s not entirely false; it is true that Nancy’s made it easier to get out from behind his King Steve self more often than not, but there was always a part of him that wanted to be better.

Steve just shrugs. “No more messing with the freshmen, Tommy. Show’s over, assholes, get out of here!” he yells over the crowd as he turns his back on his friend’s(?) sputtering face. Facing Eddie again, he asks, “Sorry, Munson, your friend okay?”

Ugh. Even he cringes inwardly at how insincere that sounded. How’d that come out so wrong?

Eddie just gives him a look, and shakes his head, “C’mon Gareth,” he wraps a long arm around the kid behind him while still shielding him from view. “Our benevolent ruler has allowed us to leave unharmed; let’s abscond before he changes his mind.” Eddie shoots Steve another glare over his shoulder and disappears into the dispersing crowd of students.

Nancy and her friend stay behind. Barb. Her name is Barb. 

Barb says something to Nancy, and when she nods in return, Barb leaves for her next class.

Nancy moves to step up to his side again, but he’s whirled around and Tommy’s in his face.

“What the fuck is your deal, Harrington?”

Steve shoves him back, “I already fuckin’ told you. Leave the freshmen alone.”

It’s not a lot, he knows Tommy’s going to over-correct and start berating the sophomore class relentlessly, but that kid looked so scared.. Fuck, he’s a coward. 

“You’re going soft, Harrington.” Tommy shoulder checks him as he walks past him and past Nancy, who gives him a wide berth.

“Sorry, Nance.” he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

She levels him with a look. “What was with you and that senior?”

“Nothing, nothing!” he holds his hands up in surrender.

The look on her face says she doesn’t believe him.

Not that much longer after that, she knows he wasn’t telling the truth. After getting beaten up by Jonathan Byers, Barb going missing from his backyard, almost dying…his whole world being turned upside-down (hah), he deserves to tell someone the truth about his not crush on Eddie Munson…

He asks her “Munson’s pretty right? I mean, for a guy.”

“Do you think he’s pretty, Steve?” she asks in lieu of a response, soft tone and smile letting him know he’s okay to talk to her about it.

His stomach twists, he wants to throw up. He still really likes Nancy, still likes girls, why does he feel all gooey about a guy ? About Eddie ?

“I don’t know, Steve.” She says. Oh shit, he said that out loud. “But it’s okay that you do, you know. I won’t see you any differently.”

The knot in his stomach loosens slightly.

She looks down at her hands where they’re folded in her lap. “It’d be hypocritical of me if I did.”

Steve hugs her then. They stay together, they’re just fine…until they’re not.

They drift apart after that. They hang on for a while, they do care for each other afterall, but everything falls apart at that damn Halloween party.

Steve doesn’t blame her, not fully. Especially when he’s been not so subtly mooning after someone else (Nancy smiles knowingly at him every time she catches him staring at Eddie across the hall or across the cafeteria), and especially not after as much as she’s had to drink.

She’s right to call their relationship bullshit, even if it stings, because it kinda was. Him pining hopelessly after some guy, but still desperately trying to hold onto what he thinks he needs to do while doing so.

Trying to hold onto the future that he’s expected to have. A wife, a house with a picket fence, two kids. All that.

Nancy starts dating Jonathan, and Steve’s happy for them, really, but even he doesn’t know how okay he actually is until he’s jumped in Reefer Rick’s boathouse.

There’s a forearm across his chest, an elbow digging into his right shoulder, a hip pressed to his own, another face only inches away, and he’s head over fucking heels.

Those dark eyes that haunted him in the halls of Hawkins High are suddenly so close he can see just how rich a brown they really are, even around the sheer panic in their forefront. 

The dark curls that Steve wanted to wrap around his fingers three years ago are longer, more full, down to Eddie’s shoulders now, though dirty and matted in some places from his time on the run.

If there wasn’t a broken glass bottle pressed to his neck right now, he’d be fully tempted to just plant one on the other man. Instead, Steve stays perfectly still, echoing anything Dustin says that might get the sharp glass away from his jugular.

Eddie’s eventually convinced to let Steve go, but somehow keeps hold of his heart. Metaphorically wrenching it from Steve’s chest and tucking it away into an inner pocket of his leather jacket.

‘This is the literal worst time for this shit, Harrington, pull yourself together.’ Steve chides himself as he catches his breath. ‘Save him. Get him out of this first, THEN you can worry about your feelings for him.’

Awesome, great plan.

---------------

Ok.

Yep.

This is a thing that is happening to him today.

The tape in his hand, the messy scrawled notes that were so lovingly delivered to him, were made by Steve "The Hair" Harrington about him, Eddie "The Freak" Munson. 

He must've died back there in the upside down. This is not real. 

How has Steve been pining for him for that long? Especially if that first entry is true, all the way back when now-about-to-go-into-Senior-year Gareth had just started at Hawkins High??

Eddie stops himself from reading the rest of Steve's (Steve's!!) handwriting to dash inside to the phone. The rest of this deserves to be read with the tape playing anyway.

First things first: "Robin! Birdie, Buckley, best woman in the world!" he yells, vibrating where he stands with the phone against his ear.

"Munson. To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asks, infuriatingly nonchalant.

"You know damn well why I'm calling. This is Steve's tape?" He's only slightly embarrassed by the anxious squeak that comes out of him when he says Steve's name.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Robin says, then promptly hangs up on him.

Part 3!

yes, i did in fact use my own handwriting as steve's :o)

[wheels-of-despair]

Flying Monkeys Couldn't Drag Me Away Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Evil Woman invites Eddie over for a fun fall night of makin' treats and watchin' a movie with the family. Contains: Early relationship fluff, kitchen chaos, unreasonable amounts of sugar, Wizard of Oz references, smoking, basically just Eddie getting comfortable hanging out with Team Evil Woman and establishing his place as Mom's Favorite. Words: 2.5k Note: This is about two months into the relationship. I've mentioned little bro by name once before, and try to keep him vague in the standalone fics… but this is domestic fall-flavored fluff set at home, where he lives, so whatever. It's Gareth. It's always been Gareth. Deal with it.

"You wanna do something tonight?"

You're sitting next to Eddie on a curb in the Hawkins High parking lot while he smokes his post-lunch cigarette. It's a chilly October day in the year 1984. You're wearing your favorite sweater, surrounded by crunchy fallen leaves, and huddled close for warmth. It's perfect.

"Actually…" you lift your head from his shoulder and look at him apologetically. "I kinda already have something."

"Oh." He visibly deflates. "Nevermind."

"With my mom," you say quickly.

He nods in understanding and takes another drag.

"We're watching The Wizard of Oz. It's her favorite scary movie."

"The Wizard of Oz is scary?"

"No, but don't tell her that," you laugh. He smiles, and you return your head to his shoulder. He blows his smoke in the other direction and leans his head against yours.

"You wanna come?" you ask tentatively.

"Is that… okay?"

"Yeah."

"Should you ask her first?"

"Kinda already did," you wince. You don't know why you're a little ashamed; it's his damn fault that you can't get enough of him.

"Oh yeah?" You can't see his face, but you know it's decorated with a cocky smile.

"Mhm," you hum, trying to hide your own. "We're gonna make popcorn and caramel apples. Mom's gonna quote her favorite lines. Brother's gonna dramatically lip-sync to 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow'… well, maybe not with you around. Forget I said that."

"Not a chance," he chuckles.

"So… you wanna come?"

"Hell yeah," he says through a cloud of smoke.

"Oh, and if she asks, the flying monkeys are terrifying."

"Noted."

Several hours later, Eddie and Gareth were violently stabbing popsicle sticks into the apples you'd just washed, and your mother was stirring a pot of boiling caramel on the stove.

"What did those poor apples ever do to you?" you ask, briefly taking your eyes off the not-so-pretty ones you were chopping into slices at the sink.

"They were born without delicious candy coating," Gareth shrugs. Eddie nods in agreement, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he takes aim at his next target.

"You'd better be leaving enough stick to hold them by," your mother reminds them without turning around.

Eddie retracts his tongue and stabs a stick into the apple with a little less oomph than before.

Your brother jams his stick into a big juicy green one with full strength, and it squirts him in the eye.

"Son of a bitch!" he grumbles, wiping at his face with the back of his wrist.

"Language," your mother says instinctively. You're surprised she even still bothers trying to reign in the sailors she raised.

You toss a dish towel at Gareth, and it hits him in the face. He uses it to wipe the apple juice away and drops it to the table with a scowl.

"Alright, are they ready?" your mom asks. You glance toward the table and see that the boys are running out of apples to stab.

"Almost," you answer. "Are you?"

"Yup."

You drop your knife and go to the table, quickly arranging the stabbed apples into neat rows on the baking sheet covered in parchment paper. The boys poke sticks into the last of the apples and move them to the pan. You carefully pick it up, bring it to the stove, and place it beside the pot of boiling caramel.

"Peanuts?"

"Uh…" you scan the kitchen for the chopped-up peanuts, and Eddie points to a bowl on the table. "Thanks," you smile, picking it up and bringing it to the caramel station.

Once everything's in place, your mother begins dunking the apples into the caramel sauce. You watch the first few, mesmerized by the way she coats each apple, spins off the dripping caramel, and rolls it in finely chopped nuts before transferring it to the pan to cool. The hot caramel slides down the apple just a little bit, creating a little pool of sweetness beneath each treat. That's the best part.

And then you get back to work, hastily chopping the rest of the apples deemed not pretty enough - your favorites, really - and dropping them onto another parchment-paper-lined pan. If you were showing off like your mother, who planned on taking hers to work for a staff Halloween party, you'd put effort into arranging them neatly.

However, you'd all be devouring these in a few minutes, so it didn't really matter what they looked like. You dropped the apple slices onto the parchment paper, shook the pan to spread them out, and moved it to the table.

Eddie looked up at you with a raised eyebrow.

"You'll see," you wink.

"You wanna get the pot out so the oil can be heating while we decorate?" your mom suggests.

"Yup," you answer, falling to your knees to dig the big shiny stock pot out of a low cabinet.

Gareth gets up and wanders toward the junk food cabinet, and begins pulling down all kinds of goodies. Eddie sits at the table quietly, watching the three of you work all around him.

"Eddie! Catch!" A bag of pretzels goes flying across the kitchen, which Eddie catches with a stunned look on his face.

"Gareth, if you mess up my apples, I will show you no mercy," your mother warns, carefully rolling another caramel-covered apple in crushed peanuts.

"Sorry," he mumbles, turning back to the cabinet with a smirk. He returns to the table with an armload of chips and candy.

"We're gonna use the leftover caramel to make apple nachos," your mother supplies helpfully, glancing back between apples and seeing that Eddie's looking a little overwhelmed at all the movement around him. "I promise it's not always this chaotic around here."

"Only when there's food involved," you grin, pouring oil into the pot that you'd dragged onto the counter.

"Alright, that's a wrap," your mom states, placing the last of the apples on the pan. "You got it?" she asks, stepping back from the pan of hot caramel.

"Yup," you answer, grabbing the handles with potholders. "Watch it, dorks," you warn as you pick it up and turn toward the table. Your mother moves the much larger stock pot onto the still-warm burner and turns up the heat.

You tilt the pan and carefully drizzle the sliced apples with warm, gooey caramel. Gareth inhales the sweet scent deeply, then begins opening bags of junk food. You scrape out the last of the caramel onto the apples and put the pot in the sink to soak.

"Alright, Munson," he begins with a confidence he wasn't ready to show in school, "we're doing this in quadrants. That one's yours." He points to the designated spot, then reaches for a bag he'd pulled from the junk food cabinet. "Go nuts."

"Speaking of which, does anybody want crushed nuts?" your mom asks.

Gareth and Eddie grin at each other. You roll your eyes. They know damn well she's talking about the peanuts.

"Nope," Gareth answers with a toothy grin, reaching for a handful of marshmallows.

"None for me, ma'am, but thank you," Eddie blushes, biting his lip to keep from laughing.

"Just dump 'em on mine, then," she says, watching the oil. You pick up the bowl of peanuts and return to the table. Seeing Eddie still fighting back laughter, you flick a piece of nut at him and distribute the rest on your mom's quadrant with a grin.

You decorate your section with a sprinkling of this and that. The caramel apple is the star of the show. Everything else is just garnish.

Eddie opts for bits of crunched up pretzels, marshmallows, and a few M&M's and Reese's Pieces for a pop of color.

Gareth goes all out. Chocolate chips. Potato chips. Marshmallows. M&M's. Reese's Pieces. Sprinkles. A smashed-up Butterfinger. He tops it off with a mountain of whipped cream. "For dipping," he explains, as the three of you look at him in horror.

The popcorn starts popping, and your mother returns her attention to the stove with a shake of her head.

"I'll get the movie ready," you offer. "Eddie, you wanna carry the sugar coma into the living room?"

"Sure," he says, standing and picking up the pan carefully. You rush ahead of him to clean off the coffee table.

"Having fun yet?" you grin.

He responds with a nod and a nervous smile and puts the apple pan on the coffee table.

"Don't worry, you're fitting right in," you assure him.

"Eddie, what do you want to drink?" Gareth yells from the kitchen.

"Go to the kitchen and answer calmly instead of yelling back to become the automatic favorite," you advise. He grins and returns to the kitchen.

You turn the TV on and slide The Wizard of Oz into the VCR. It comes to life with a clunk, and you pause the tape to wait for everyone else. As if on cue, they file in, each carrying a can of soda and a bowl of popcorn. Well, two sodas for Eddie, since he was nice enough to bring yours.

Three bowls of popcorn join the pan on the coffee table, and you each sit closest to your section of the caramel apple nachos. The youths take the couch. Your mother drags her favorite chair a little closer so she can reach the snacks. The lights are turned off, except for one lamp, so that you can see what you're eating.

You press "play" on the remote, and Gareth takes that as the go-ahead to dive face-first into his pile of sugar.

The rest of you start snacking a little more calmly as the screen transports you to dull, colorless Kansas. You alternate handfuls of salty popcorn with sweet apple slices and lose yourselves in the merry old land of Oz.

By the time Dorothy assembled her gang, Gareth had taken a pillow and moved to lie on the floor. Classic sugar coma reaction.

Although you and Eddie had more room with him gone, neither of you moved. You stayed right there, thighs smushed together on the couch in your living room, until Dorothy came home and the end credits rolled. Might've even held hands for a little while. It was dark in there, with only one lamp on for spooky ambiance. Who's to say?

"Alright, guess I better tackle that mess in the kitchen," your mom sighs.

"I'll do it," you offer, rewinding the tape and turning off the TV.

"I'll help," Eddie says, starting to gather the empty cans.

"Gareth, you helping too?" your mom asks the lump on the floor playfully. He snores in response. Every damn time.

The three of you shuffle into the kitchen and get to work. You and Eddie put the junk food away and get started on the dishes while your mom carefully transfers her caramel apples to a Tupperware container to take to work for tomorrow's Halloween party.

"Alright, Eddie, moment of truth," she says suddenly, breaking the peaceful silence. He tenses next to you at the sink where you're washing and he's drying, bracing himself for the worst. "Are the flying monkeys terrifying, or are they terrifying?"

He relaxes and lets out a chuckle. "Terrifying!"

"Thank you!" she says with genuine appreciation. "My warped and desensitized children just don't understand. I spent years having nightmares about these things when I was a kid! Years!"

"Hey, I said they were ugly!" you defended yourself as you handed Eddie another dish to dry. "I've just seen way scarier stuff. Like... I dunno, grandma without makeup." Eddie snorts.

"Terrifying!" she repeats, ignoring you and sealing the apple box. "Alright, I'm going to read. If your brother wakes up from his coma and tries to crawl back to bed, tell him to brush his teeth first."

"Yes, mother," you drone.

"It was nice having you here, Eddie," your mother stops in the doorway and turns back with a smile. "Hope we didn't scare you off."

"Flying monkeys couldn't drag me away," he grins.

She laughs and says goodnight, then steps out of sight.

"Thanks for coming tonight," you smile as you hand him the last bowl to dry.

"Thanks for the invite." Is he blushing? "I had fun."

"Me too." Now you're blushing? Fuck this.

"It's getting late, I guess I should probably get goin' before your mom throws me out."

"Wanna smoke first?"

"Aight."

You grab your jackets and head out into the chilly October night. You don't turn on the outside light; the streetlights will be bright enough to help him find his way back to the van. Plus, you lured him out here for a goodnight kiss, and the neighbors don't deserve a free show.

You stand in the darkened driveway as Eddie slides a cigarette out of his pack for you to share, sticks it in his mouth, and starts patting each pocket in search of his lighter. You reach into your pocket and extract your own - which is always in the same place, because you are a more organized human being than Eddie Munson.

"How 'bout a little fire, scarecrow?" you ask in your best Wicked Witch voice, flicking the lighter in front of his face.

He grins and leans forward, cupping his hands around yours and puffing until the light takes.

"You're way too good at that," he observes, blowing out his smoke.

"Years of practice, my pretty," you respond, still in your witchy voice, reaching for the cancer stick.

"You think I'm pretty?" He bats his eyelashes flirtatiously at you.

"So fucking pretty," you whisper, stepping closer.

His eyes glimmer in the soft glow from the distant street light, his dark orbs looking impossibly large. A smirk creeps its way onto his face. You reach your free hand into the hair at the back of his head, and he comes down to meet your mouth without any pressure at all.

He tastes like smoke, and apples, and salt, and that unmistakable but unexplainable Eddie flavor. You can't figure out what it is, but you know you'll never be able to get enough of it.

You lose yourself in the taste of him until the outside light flicks on and startles you both into taking a step back.

You glance toward the window and see the curtain swish. "Uh… pay no attention to that woman behind the curtain?"

You look at each other with flushed faces and break out into a fit of giggles. You suddenly remember you've got a cigarette in your hand, and raise it to your mouth… and an inch of ash that had accumulated while you were distracted falls to the ground.

"Oops," you grin, flicking it for good measure before taking a drag and passing it back to him. It's finished in silence.

He stubs it out and drops it in the ash tray on the edge of the porch, and returns to you for one last goodnight kiss. Shorter, this time.

"See you tomorrow?" you ask sleepily, reluctant to let him go. You look up into his beautiful dark eyes, trying to soak up enough Eddie to last you the rest of the night.

"I'll come get you in the morning, my pretty…" he says slowly, "and your little brother, too."

[idlerin]

nonsense — 10. why are you running!?

it was your worst nightmare.

no not the one where you were swallowed up by a giant monster-like formed final paper with an F plastered on it that took up 60% of your grade for that semester. no, it’s something worse! (okay maybe that’s debatable)

“are you okay?” a hand was reaching out to you.

you looked up and met with those familiar pretty brown eyes you used to stare into all the time, but it can’t be, it can’t be him, you were hallucinating, yes! you bumped into this person so hard you’ve started seeing someone else in him. ha! how ridiculous you were being, why the hell would he be in the university out of every place he could’ve been in tokyo right now.

“[name]?” he spoke your name in the same way he did, the same voice too.

haha.

hahaha.

okay you were out of here!

true to word, you were out of there in no time, using the leg strength you actually have to get the hell away. chanting in your head, It wasn’t him, that wasn’t him. his face and his voice was really identical though, your common sense intruded your inner monologue of denial. but what if it was just a look-alike? voice-alike? you continue to try and gaslight yourself.

oh fuck it fine… it was probably him. you finally let yourself succumb to reality. he should be at work or something! why isn’t he working on a monday like a good taxpayer!

you pant, placing your hand on something solid, that’s enough running, you weren’t made for something that needed lots of stamina, this was why you became a volleyball manager instead of a player. ha, where am i? before you could properly look up, the harsh wind slammed a piece of paper onto your face, you irritably removed it and were faced with a poster with his face printed on it. you guffawed and threw it away harshly.

you then realize you were leaning on glass, you take in a breath, that run really tired you out, you turn your head to try and clear up your mind and remember a way back to kuroo. you were at a bus stop, you finally registered.

in the middle of observing your surroundings though you saw the poster displayed and again, it had his face on it! his series ad!

right on time a bus stopped in front of you, and the bus had a he who you refuse to say the name’s out loud’s banner, this time, a perfume ad. not taking it anymore, you screeched, “this is psychological harassment!”

you ignore the stare of the elderly that got off.

okay.. okay.. what was i trying to do again? ah right i was running away from kuroo.. oh kuroo! I think i dropped his shoe somewhere!

“hey [name], could you have always run fast like that!?” bokuto shows up, looking barely exhausted, damned athletes, you shake your head in disbelief, and here you were still panting like you just ran a marathon.

“kou,” you say, “i am not one of god’s strongest soldiers,” you exclaim dramatically.

“oh me too, earlier i couldn’t resist eating a slice of choco cake even though i’m supposed to be on my diet,” bokuto says.

“the one they were selling in the cafeteria?” he nods, “i can’t blame you it was really good,” you continue.

“i know right!” bokuto grins, glad you agree with him.

“ah!” you were suddenly in perfect posture, “we need to find kuroo’s shoe!”

“Is it this one?” he raises his hand which you now noticed held the familiar red striped footwear, “found it on the way here, thought the shoe was familiar!”

“oh, great!” you clap, drained.

just then, two girls that looked to be in highschool passed between the two of you, loudly chatting, “have you seen the news that oikawa tooru’s back in japan? oh my god what if we meet him!”

“i wish!” the other girl giggled.

him again. you scowl.

“uhh, you good?” bokuto said hesitantly, noting you were doing your scary face.

“I am perfectly fine,” you said, eye twitching.

kuroo, who was left at the scene of the crime, was laughing.

awkwardly.

“hanamaki!” he raises a hand to high five the forgotten male once the crowd disperses. hanamaki cheerily high fives him back.

“kuroo my man!” he greets just as enthusiastically.

“is this?” kuroo notions his head to the man who was fixing his cap, strands of brown hair were still loose. really, he couldn’t have mistaken it as anyone other than oikawa tooru once he got closer, bokuto shows him way too many pictures of the dude.

“yeah,” hanamaki nods solemnly.

masterlist — previous | next

✦ fun facts !

makki totally wanted to ask kuroo about kenma

iwa was the resident third wheel

akaashi is a busy hardworking student, he is the president of a ton of orgs

nonsense ! an oikawa tooru social media au

synopsis. you were oikawa tooru’s #1 fan, until you became his #1 hater. you hated him so much you went viral on twitter (accidentally) and literally became known as “the oikawa tooru hater”, doesn’t help that he keeps fueling the fire by subtweeting you. everyone is all in for this new drama. what isn’t known to the public, is that this particular drama’s been on hold for three years (him being your ex and all).

a/n — did you guys notice the miraculous reference. and me updating twice in the same day!? who am i??

taglist is open ! + @kawaii-angelanne @ceneridiankaa @kittycasie @rukia-uchiha-98 @polish-cereal @kellesvt @rockleeisbaeeee @kashxyou @imsoluvly @jjulliette @tooruchiiscribs @littlefreakjulia @gomjohs @qualitygiantshoepsychic @mellowknightcolorfarm @konzumeken @migosple @kuroogguk @sangwooooo @katsu-shi @wolffmaiden @rijhi @2baddies-1porsche @yeehawcity @aishkaaa @crueldinasty @rintarousprincess @yyuiz @epeec28 @llamakenma