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jinkiezzsstuff · 9 months ago

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Hey! I really loved your Covkwarming with Alastor Story. Would you maybe want to make one where Alastor is busy and reader wants his attention? Maybe he even snaps at her only to later search for her and make it up to her? With lots of fluff and maybe nsfw?

Hope you have a nice day

-🌸🦇

BRODI! You waited a whole month for this and I AM SO SORRY. I love and appreciate you and your request so much thank you very much for being patient, i really really loved this idea but dang april has been a crazy month for me, i hope you’re doing well and enjoy this fic it’s a longer one!

i’m actually really happy with how this turned out

warnings: SMUT 18+, angst, fluff, mean alastor, you guys fight, gaslighting girl boss alastor, established relationship (you were together before he went missing), loyal reader described, codependency kinda, some horror aspects?, descriptions of alastors dead food, alastor admits his emotions and issues in an alastor way, brief descriptions of reader having self sabotaging habits- drinking smoking/potsmoking too, GN reader although clit is used, penetrative sex, slow sex, swearing, alastor doesn’t like pillow talk lol i think that’s it but let me know not proof read

5.1K words

Alastor was locked up in his radio tower, exhausted as he sifted through various forms of media coverage from his battle. Vox, the little electronic weasel, had his entire affair with Adam recorded and broadcasted around, which was frightful for Alastors image. Not only had he been gone for seven years, but he’s helping with a hotel that endorsed goodness. Needless to say Alastor wasn’t doing okay, his ears were constantly pulled back, smile strained, and he kept blowing the lights up and down. Hell, his static was so violent it even gave him headaches.

Even his shadows at this point began causing chaos, his own anxiousness and frustration bleeding off into them. Alastors isolation caused you to be extremely worried, you weren’t there while he fought Adam, you should’ve been, because since then he’s not been the same. You saw it on TV, the one Vox had broadcasted. Try as he may, Alastor didn’t keep it away long enough for you to not see, there was always someone else putting it back out there.

You didn’t bring it up to him- not that you could; he was too overly consumed in his tower. Incessantly shutting down broadcasts, throwing out power, attacking minor demons for spreading the information. It made you feel so very many unfortunate emotions, never in your many years of being dead have you ever seen him so erratic and emotionally disturbed.

Alastor would play pretend in public but you knew him, as did Husk, the two of you could tell he was tense, strained, constantly ready to snap, his poise was harder to keep. Lucifer presence in the hotel didn’t help at either, constantly trying to get into it with Alastor, which only furthered his isolation. You began to feel extremely lonely, it was rare in hell anyone was a good shoulder to cry on, or ear to hear, but you got used to going to Al after a long day, laying your head on his lap as he caressed your face and hummed you tunes, now you were alone most the time. None of his silly jokes filled the air, no you barging into your shared room and him attempting to hide his messy eating, no soft jazz playing next to you as you slept, no shadows trying to scare you, nothing.

It was incredibly lonely and the time without him showed how emotionally dependent you were on him. You wondered if he felt the same lonesomeness without you around, or if he didn’t even want you around? Maybe he was too wrapped up in his feelings to realize you weren’t around him? Did he have the same need for you as you did him? Did he miss little things about you as you did him.

Throwing your body off the couch and standing pin straight, you cut your thoughts off by marching towards Alastors tower on the far end of the hotel. You hadn’t been up there once since the battle, so this was bound to be interesting, and anxiety inducing. You could already feel the worry prickling your finger tips, making you even more uncomfortable. Knocking at Alastors door was, well, underwhelming, there was no sound, no movement, no indication he was even in there. Even shouting out at him normally would’ve gotten him to at least respond by now, it was rare he left people hanging like that, it wasn’t how he was brought up.

So you decide to cross the boundary you knew he loathed; intrusion. You entered with your breath held tightly making your throat clench, walking in you meekly hummed out his name. “Al? It’s been a long couple of days, I was wondering if you wanted some down time?” Your eyes bounced around the dark room, papers on the floor, radio frequency buzzing harshly in your ears, the low buzz of what sounded like hospital lights, it was all very creepy

Wringing your hands you came up toward his large table connected with cables and speakers, on the table was cups of coffee empty and half drank, corpses and bones of unfinished mutilated deer, and the smell of blood was something that suddenly hit you nearly knocking you back. As you covered your nose with your wrist, you back up and bumped into something, turning around with incredible speed. Alastor was there, taller than usual with his bones looking sharp and broken in his skin, his smile was stretched gruesomely making you nearly grimace, his eyes as well, wildly glaring down at you black and soulless. “Uh, I missed you.” You squeaked curling into yourself just at the sight of him.

Alastor hasn’t ever looked like this in front of you ever, it was such an abnormal and alarming look for you to set your eyes on. Alastor let out a jagged breath, his antlers growing in size with a nasty crunching sound to accompany it. “You disturbed my work, and snuck in, all because you missed me?” Alastor bent down to grab your attention, your eyes flickering to meet his own. You nodded at him, and he only hummed in return, standing tall and walking around his desk to sit at his chair. You turned on your heel to follow his movements, biting your lip with worry. Sure you were anxious before as you typically got with anybody, you weren’t confrontational and you weren’t one to cross the boundary, although you never expected him to look so angry with you.

“Perhaps, if that’s the case, you should find yourself another demon; I cannot be surrounded by the meek and emotionally stunted. My work, my image, will always come first my dear. Now, get out.” Alastor enunciated every word with his hands rested under his chin, and his head cocked to the side. Your stomach dropped and your cheeks watered like you were about to be sick, immediately your eyes widened, noises falling out of your mouth as you attempted to grasp at the words you were trying to say. “S-You’re breaking up with me?” Your voice was a wreck, struggling to expel the words past the sob that wanted to rip out of you, the disbelief evident in your tone. Alastor stood from his seat and leaned toward your face over the table, your lip quivered as he did so, trying your hardest not to cry.

“Heavens no! I’m simply saying if you can’t handle being a secondary priority perhaps you should take some time alone, remember what it is to be your own person! I will not bend my rules for some silly relationship.” His tone dripped with condescension and he finished his sentence with a boop on your nose. The only thing your mind could conjure was ‘how dare he?’ you never felt so insulted by him before. You always put him first, you waited seven years for his return defending his role in hell, and he sees you as secondary to himself. Does that mean he would save himself before you? Was this relationship only about his own desires, his own cravings and you weren’t important? You must be too sensitive about this?

“So you won’t spare me a moment because some stupid TV proved you aren’t invincible? Grow up Alastor please,” You could help the rage that slipped out in between your words, fists clenching, eyes narrowing. Alastor hissed statically at you. “Don’t for a second get it twisted up in your pretty little head that you are special, you are just like every other disposable sinner, i suggest you monitor your tone with me, dear.” Alastor crackled, his voice more electric than you’ve ever heard before. Your frown was deep, the tears silently falling down your cheeks. You didn’t even know what to say, instead you just shrugged with your head low, and turned around silently leaving him behind.

The moment you existed his tower you ran, your brain screamed to get away before somebody could question what was wrong or what happened. You couldn’t stomach the idea of being seen like this, and you didn’t want Alastor to come out and catch you, so you took off. You exited out the back without a trace, wandering into the streets of the pentagram. Eventually you found yourself back at your old apartment, which you still paid for as you really don’t plan to continue living at the hotel. When you got there you were finally able to let everything settle in you, it felt like the sadness slipped into your bones and weighed you down further into your sofa.

You didn’t move for hours, and eventually you ended up falling asleep. You left without a word, without your phone and without any of your stuff. Of course Alastor was very aware he made the choice to say the things he did, but he didn’t mean them, and after a short bit of reflection he could understand it was just an emotional response to the fear of being vulnerable. As well as the anxious thought dancing in his mind about the what ifs, what if he were to die, what if his plan fails and the deal goes wayward and you’re left with the pieces of his mess? What if Vox targets you, what if others do, do the citizens of hell see him as some weak mush because he’s dating you?

It’s all what led him to exploding; insecurity. Even the thought of having such a low tier emotion made his blood boil, but as long as nobody knew about it, he would find a way to quell it. Alastor waited, not wanting to impose while you were still going through thee emotions. However things started getting worrisome by the next day, nearly thirty hours into being gone and the patrons had begun to question him. Obviously Alastor didn’t know, and instead opted to sway the topic away from you and instead to something else.

The week came and gone like a blur, Alastor hadn’t seen you since you came into his tower and the rest of the hotel had set out to look for you with no luck. Alastor kept to his tower, telling himself if you wanted to be away that was your choice; he wasn’t chasing you like some lost puppy. Though he did find himself briefly wondering if you were still alive, after all Vox was out there watching through cameras on every corner and Adam’s corpse went missing and wasn’t accounted for, there was many threats to your safety he hadn’t thought of before.

With a sigh of static frustration, Alastor flicked his hand giving the okay to his right hand shadow to go find you, he couldn’t stand his thoughts anymore. And so it did, within seconds the shadow zipped and zoomed knowing exactly where you were, not that you were trying to hide. It slinked up against the paint peeling wall of your apartment, watching you on the couch, news softly sounding out as you read a book. Your home was a wreck, looking as though you’ve had fits upon fits of rage and lacked to clean after. Dishes piled, laundry scattered all across the linoleum floors. Alcohol, pot and cigarettes were a hefty scent in the room, it didn’t accompany the damp mold smell well at all. Oh what a thing you’d become without Alastor! The shadow watched like a fly on the wall for varying moments, studying you and your state before vaporising into the floor and taking off back to its master.

Honestly, you weren’t expecting Alastor to come knocking at your apartment door, so when you swung it open expecting your usual delivery guy, you were shocked and you didn’t bother fixing your depressed appearance. “Goodness gracious my little dame it looks like you’ve been dragged through mud!” Alastor laughed boisterously using his microphone to push you aside and barge in. You stood aside speechless, watching as he stepped inside with his hands rested just above his tail, surveying the room around him. His neck cracked disgustingly, his body forward while his head faced you, his grin tamed. “What happened here?” The words were simple but his tone was confusing, you couldn’t tell if he was angry, suspicious, or worried. You sneered at him, lip twitching upward as you slammed the door and wordlessly returned to your spot on the couch.

“I didn’t expect you to search, work come first yknow.” Oh yes, you planned to milk the words he said against you to berate him and his attempts to make up, you were in hell for a reason after all. Alastor huffed- like a buck would, something uncharacteristic for him to do outside of being alone with you, which sickeningly made your heart flutter, he still trusted you in a way, did that mean you were still his? You always told him he was more deer then he’d like to admit and those huffs were one of those deer attributes. “Hm yes, but you’ve been quite the work, I hope you know.” You clenched your teeth, trying not to snap instantly, but you did send him a glare.

You muttered about how that didn’t make things any better when he snapped his fingers, all things garbage vanishing in a pinch, mold included. “Ah, much better! My mother always said the state of the house is the state of the mind!” A round of applause sounds from his microphone as he laughed, rounding the couch with a slow stride. “Tell me, would you like to talk?” It felt more condescending then genuine, the way he was bent forward with lidded eyes and an eased smile, like you were some child having a tantrum. “No, Al, you made what you said pretty fuckin clear, i don’t wanna be with you if I am some chore or job, or secondary whatever!- i wanna be your partner and you want me to be a pet? Yeah, no thanks.” You punctuated your sentence with a dramatic scoff, flopping back into the cushions with your arms folded protectively across your chest.

“Ahhh my little doudou,” Alastor chided, sitting himself flush to you, arm around the back of the couch to trap you near him. “I want you to listen to me, and listen to me closely because i will never admit this again!” Alastor exclaimed this with what sounded to be false confidence and a slight hint of exasperation. He pinched your chin in between his claws forcing you to look at him, and of course you did, what else were you to do? “I have become a fool, all across the pentagram, I’m held by ball and chain— the devil my dear! The devil is- some frazzled little nitwit with all the power and no ambition!” Alastors fist clenched at the mention of Lucifer, abandoning your chin to do so. “I was feared my dear, nobody dared to test my authority, and now i’m an assumed bellboy for the princess and her gaggle of misfits. You,” Alastor paused leaning in so close your noses touched.

“My dear, were the only one i actually wouldn’t mind being weakened for.” You couldn’t stop the comical ‘huh’ that gargled straight from your throat. “What does that even mean Alastor.” You whine throwing your head back bumping his arm as you did so, an unknowing invitation to slide it down, hand caressing your shoulder softly. “It means dear, I didn’t mean what i said, because i’ve already done those exact things in the past! I’ve missed countless radio shows from you, refrained from eating deer around you- for your sake. I’ve held you to me on every block knowing Vox could see us perfectly! You were my chosen weakness, darling, but with all these other useless sinners belittling my role in hell, i took it out on you,”

Pausing Alastors static faded in and out, you watched his eyes closely, but the real give away was the way his ear subtly tilted to the side looking like a sad puppy. “I felt what i said, I felt weak and I knew you needed me and didn’t want to feel this weakness anymore, so logically-” You scoffed with a small smirk, mockingly muttering ‘logically’ back at him. “-I had to try to appear as though I am what I originally intended to be.” He finished giving you a pointed look. Shifting your body to face him more, you analysed his body language and face. Typically- no matter how long you’ve been together- he was amazing at hiding his emotions, always seeming to be happy. It seemed like he let his guard down however, his eyebrows were furrowed and pointed upward, his smile tight, shoulders rigid and his breathing shallow. Anticipation was evident by the way his hoof tapped against the floor with beat.

You finally let you emotion reignite, the tears slipped down your face like rivers as you gently shook your head. “What did you intend to be?” You asked softly, an unattractive spit bubble forming as you opened your mouth. “A ruler of sorts, i suppose. Emotionless, cruel, untouchable. I tried to reaffirm to myself by being cruel to you my dear, that i was still a demon, not the altruist teddy bear they all dubbed me as.” Alastors form had finally slumped, sinking into the cushions alongside you, his head falling back gazing up at the ceiling. You caved just slightly at his admission, and rested your head on his chest near his armpit, your body sinking into his. Suddenly he perked up, looking down at you, you reflexively shooting your gaze up to him.

“Yknow they made a mockery of my speech as well my dear! Preposterous, darling, many sinners posted about me being ‘cringe’, my speech was ‘corny’, my dearest can you believe that?” You almost took offence to the fact he sounded more distraught over being made fun of rather than hurting you, but you reminded yourself that Alastor was trying to open up, and you weren’t gonna ruin that. “Is that why you were killing randos instead of overlords?” You asked feeling more relaxed than you had before, obviously there was many words in between you two unsaid, but you wanted to bask in the small talk you craved for so long from him just a little longer.

“Precisely. I’m proud you noticed.” You hummed with a small smile, your head resting back on his chest. “Why did it take so long for you to come?” Despite not even thinking he would, you now had the knowledge he didn’t actually hate you, and if he didn’t why’d he drag it out? “Pride,” What would’ve been a hoarse voice to any other demon, was a staticy robotic sound that crackled out of his chest. “This is way out of my comfort my dear, i didn’t and still don’t know what to say or do, and i don’t like being out of control.” You whimpered at that, curling up into him, your legs slinging over his thighs so you could cuddle up next to him. Immediately his arms engulfed you, pulling you into him with a happy hum, his neck craning to kiss your head softly.

“i missed you, you really hurt me, bad. Don’t do it again.” You state firmly though it was muffled by the fabric of his coat, the one you had your face nuzzled into. Alastor hummed out softly petting you on your head, just like he would before. “Never again doudou~, you have my word, and i promise to make it up to you.” Tiling your head upward you yanked at his colar, and he immediately ducked down meeting your lips at will. The kiss was soft and Alastor could feel the dampness from your tears on your chin against him. After a moment you both pulled away, although not far from eachother your lips were practically still touching.

“Why don’t I give you some attention my sweet doe.” Alastor cooed against your lips, you could hear the mischief in his tone as his hand pawed your hips. You blinked slowly at him, an instant twist of desire appearing low in your gut. “How?” Alastors grin widened for the first time since appearing at your door, and you feared you’d truly be in for it tonight. “Oh my, have i neglected your needs so long you need to inquire how?” Alastor question was rhetorical only furthered by the way he kissed his teeth with his index finger coming up to shake side to side. “That simply will not do!” Standing suddenly, with you in his arms, made you gasp and clutch onto him instinctively. You smacked his chest playfully, muttering to him about being too heavy, he however ignored you, walking toward your old room with his head held high.

The room in question was a mess, and a thick layer of dust coated every object that wasn’t being continually used, like the nightstand, and the lamp. Alastor didn’t care much though, he never did care whether you were messy or super clean he’d always snap his fingers to assist you, and that’s exactly what he did. Slowly around the room things cleared up, his shadows slunk into the room with strange looking candles setting a romantic tone for the room. The bed was remade neatly when he set you on it gently, watching your doe eyes stare up at him with a familiar intensity that always made him fidgety. You let him flop you down without complaint, after all it wasn’t always that Alastor seemed so interested in getting down and dirty.

Standing above you, Alastor grinned down at you with lidded eyes, letting his long fingers dance down his chest to undo his buttons. He wasn’t really a fan of trying to appear sexually appealing to those around him, he’d never admit how out of the ordinary, and awkward it felt, but he knew you. You were his. You were loyal. You waited seven years just for him, never spilling a single secret. Secretly, he was way more comfortable with trying to appear “sexy” for you, because he knew no matter what, you wouldn’t look at him any differently. Alastor shrugged off his jacket, his button down shirt open exposing his chest to you. “Y'know dear,” A bit of southern drawl slipped out, as the mask he wore slipped away with his jacket. “You give me a very special outlet i do not think i’d have with any other sinner, you’re too kind to me.” Pulling off his shirt, he folded it and set it aside, kicking off his slacks right after, leaving himself in his boxers and long socks.

You watched him undress with wide eyes, you wanted nothing more then being pressed against the warmth of him, absorbing his touch. You however stayed still, letting Alastor relax into the mood as he rid himself of clothes. Alastor sat on the edge of the bed, right beside your hips, his hand traced lightly up and down your torso, occasionally dipping down to your thighs. You felt tense at the touch, both anticipation and insecurity making you feel stiff. Suddenly his claw hooked around the band of both your undergarments and pants, his eyes flickering up to inspect you when he did so. “May I?” His voice was soft, the usual uncertainty present as he felt out of his realm. “Yes, please.” You sigh, your tone nearly whiny. “I missed you so much Alastor,” You admit hushed as his claws brushed down your thighs with your clothes. Once off, Alastor leaned down, giving soft pecks to your thighs, eyes staring up to you through his red lashes. “Yes dear, my life been painstaking without you.” He whispered against your flesh, sharp teeth dragging up past your hips, nose bumping the cloth of your shirt. Sitting up slightly, you were preparing to slid your shirt over your head when Alastors body slid between your legs, claws coming up to pinch and lift the fabric exposing your chest.

With him now face to face with you, leaned over your body, you caved. Your hands slid around his neck guiding him toward you slowly, your lips met instantly like two magnets being held just inches apart. It was a sweet kiss for the most part, your lips meshed against his as you let him control the pace, it was nice with Alastor you always had enough time for the heat to simmer and grow, making foreplay unnecessary most times because he naturally took his time. You raked your fingers through his hair, nails scratching up his scalp causing ripples of goosebumps down his arms. Alastor slipped his tongue delicately licked at your lip, brushing as soft as ever. You were a bit shocked at this, typically he wasn’t into french kissing, lamenting that the whole tongue thing was messy and disgusting feeling. However you didn’t fight him, only allowed him access, which he immediately took with ease slipping his tongue against your own.

His body collided into yours, nose bumping your cheek as he angled his head. Your hands slipped down his back, smiling against his lips at the feeling of his tail wagging back and forth making small gusts of wind against your fingertips. Alastor nipped at your lips in retaliation, hands roaming your body as he pushed his hips up to softly grind his hard on into you. You hummed at the feeling of him against you, angling your hips back and up pressing your wetness against his briefs. Your body was buzzing while Alastor slowly grinded himself down on you, his clothed head travelling between your folds and back up to poke at your clit. The kiss had broken as he continued on, your breathing shaky as you enjoyed the slow motion of him above you, his teeth scraping down the length of your neck.

Alastor couldn’t help the groan that bubbled out of him. Not only could he smell your arousal but he could smell just you. He pressed his face to the nape of your neck, kissing and inhaling, loving the smell you had naturally on your skin. He also got quite the kick out of hearing the blood rush through your veins, it made him feel feral knowing you would bare yourself to him so willingly, he had you around his finger. Alastor let his lips glide down your body, leaving bite marks down your chest and neck as he did so, hips still moving slowly against you. You had soaked his briefs making the fabric feel absent, clinging to every ridge and vein of his cock slide through your folds. “Please Al, I need you.” You whined pathetically, pressing your hips up into his. Alastors choppy breath warmed your collar bone, his forehead rested on your shoulder, eyes closed as he slipped his hand down, yanking himself out of his boxers.

Sometimes he felt like an untrained dog, he couldn’t help but want to hump into you without restraint, but that wasn’t him, that was desire, and he knew how to hold back. As he sunk into you, slowly, he breathed out the quietest of noises against you shoulder, basking in you. You could hear his quiet noises clearly since he was so close, you bite your lip at the sound of him, loving how he always let you see him so wrecked. When Alastors hips were flush with your own, your legs came up around his hips, his tail stiff, while your arms wrapped around his neck, your right hand dragging up his scalp to his ears. “I like hearing you, Alastor,” You gasped as he jolted into you, like an involuntary reaction to your praise. “It makes me feel you.” You finished breathlessly. Alastor hummed against you, setting his pace slow and deep, barely pulling away before he pushed hard back inside you.

Your eyes were wide as he continued this rhythm, to you it was incredibly overwhelming, he never left you vacant always hungry to fill you right back up with him. His pants against you were also adding to your arousal, his eyelashes fluttered against your skin ever now and again as he attempted to contain himself. You knew he was sort of embarrassed with himself feeling pleasure, so you never egged him on when he did start making noise, but lord you wanted more. You tugged Alastors hair softly, pulling him up for a sloppy opened mouth kiss. He barely opened his eyes as he mushed his lips against yours, snaking his tongue against your own, bucking up faster into you at the warmth of your mouth. “I missed you, i love you,” You cried against his lips pathetically, your body’s both rocking on the bed as Alastor hurried his pace.

Alastor let out a low guttural noise, something from the back of his throat making your toes curl, pulling at his hips with your legs. “I couldn’t- stand you being away, dear.” Alastors face was inches from your own, forehead rested on yours, lips brushing against each other as he spoke. “Never again will i be such a fool, you’re mine forever.” Alastor growled through his clenched teeth, claws ripping into the mattress as he spoke. Your mouth hung open, eyebrows raised as you tried to from some sort of praise, but now his eyes were open looking down at you with such intensity and emotion, and his pace fast hard putting your body straight into the mattress. You didn’t even feel your orgasm coming on when it did, your body arching up into his, crying out his name alongside pleas.

The display of you in front of him was so pornographic, something he wasn’t fond of seeing but now understood why people were. You were gorgeous right now, your face red, your eyes watering, your body folded up towards his, all the scars, folds marks on your body, all for his eyes only. Groaning loudly, he fell back into his favourite place, your neck, and let out a deep breathless static moan as he came. You clutched him the entire time through watery blurred eyes, enjoying the feeling of him inside you post orgasm. Pulling away, Alastor was quick to pull out and away, snapping his fingers he began to clean you with a cloth. “Disgusting of me,” He muttered, seemingly angrily. “No, it was good Al, you’re allowed to. You’re not disgusting and neither was the sex, believe me.” You coo, sitting up from your position, a dopey look on your face. In a snap, Alastor was redressed as were you, in leisure clothing. “We’re going back to the hotel to sleep my little doe.” Alastor spoke softly, lending his hand to you, humming you took his hand letting him take you through his magic, back to the hotel. You knew Alastor didn’t like to lay sticky in the remnants of sex like many others, and probably would push you to shower before getting in his bed. But that way okay, you loved him regardless, and you really missed having his attention.

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thewonandonly · 3 months ago

Text

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.

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literarylesbo · 1 month ago

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spike’s changing perception of love and his actions surrounding how to show it is such an interesting concept…

as a human, spike, or william, was never shown love in a true way. he loved his mother, and he took care of her. he showed love to a girl in his town, and he was made fun of and shut down. he was a bit pathetic (and i don’t mean this as an insult, it’s just one of the only words to describe what i’m trying to convey). when he becomes a vampire, he turns his mother in an act of love to cure her sickness (as another post has mentioned before), but she becomes cruel, and in another act of love, he kills her. he ultimately ends the life of the one person he cared about completely as a human.

then there is the power dynamic between drusilla and spike, as i think there always is between the sire and the sired. she knows more about the world and changes him to be like her. despite her mental state, she has the upper hand about what they are and how they should act. that isn’t to say that they don’t truly love each other; it just presents another obstacle.

i am a spuffy shipper all the way, but I do love dru and spike’s relationship as well. however, it is built on obsession and violence. spike’s birth as a vampire is due to his death as a human by dru’s hands (or fangs lol). they do grand acts of violence for each other. they are aggressive and passionate with one another. they love each other (this can be seen not just through their actions but through the episode with the judge when he says he can sense love and jealousy in both dru and spike). but this love is not built on things that we associate love with. it is built on violence, sex, passion, but also a strong sense of loyalty.

when spike realizes he loves buffy, he is taking his own perception of love that he has developed throughout his life. from what we’ve seen, he does not have experience as a human, so most of his definition is being taken from his time as a vampire. we see this deep caring he has for buffy, but he has no way to convey it properly. he kidnaps her and threatens to kill dru to prove his devotion to her, by killing the person he loved first.

however, he sees the fault in his ways. he’s fiercely loyal to her by the fifth season. he’s willing to sacrifice himself for dawn; he’s willing to put his life on the line in a way he hasn’t for anyone before. he counts the days buffy is dead and continues to fight with her friends. he helps her fight her way out of her depression.

he tells her that she belongs in the darkness with him because he truly thinks that. what friend was really trying to help her after they resurrected her? do i agree with him? no, but also what image of healthy love does he have to look back on? none.

(i do not take into account the actions of “seeing red”. in all honesty, i act like they didn’t happen because of the reasons behind it being petty and cruel *cough cough joss* and sending james to therapy etc etc etc, just a disclaimer)

so spike gradually learns how to love. properly. he gets his soul back to prove he can be the type of man she could love. to be worthy. and that is something so beautiful. he didn’t force buffy to show him how to love. he did it himself. for her. he learned how to love with and without his soul. he made the decision to get his soul back when he still didn’t have one.

his character is so interesting to me because he is a goofy guy but he’s also deep and deeply flawed. i have a lot of thoughts obviously but this explains some.

#btvs #spike btvs #buffy summers #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy #buffy x spike #buffyverse #spuffy #buffy.txt

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jjkamochoso · 9 months ago

Note

It's me again lol!! What about jjk men taking the reader on an aquarium date or like a museum date! ^_^

UR MIND >>>>>>> SO ADORABLE

Also I’m now including Ino because I can’t believe I’ve been forgetting to add my pookie in these

Enjoy and thanks for the request!!! <3

JJK Men Taking You on a Date to the Aquarium/Museum

Fluff

JJK men x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Yuji:

“That fish looks like you.”

Your eyes fell to where Yuji’s finger was pointing. There was a huge fish with big, bulging eyes swimming in circles in the aquarium exhibit in front of you.

“Oh, really, does it?” You were thoroughly amused at your boyfriend’s antics, his grin widening as you played along. “This one is a spitting image of you.”

Yuji caught a glimpse of the fish you were pointing at and turned away from you, making you frown. Did you inadvertently hurt his feelings? The fish wasn’t *that* ugly. Besides, you both were joking around, but you never meant to go too far and make him sad. You tentatively put a hand on his back to get his attention.

“Yuji, I didn’t—”

He faced you again, this time sporting a quintessential fish face with his cheeks sucked in and lips protruding in a pout. You immediately started cracking up, and since laughter is contagious, especially among you two, so did he.

“There’s lots of cute fish here, but you were the cutest,” you finally said, making him blush. He grasped your hand tightly and you set off for another exhibit.

Megumi:

When Megumi asked you on a date to an art museum, you were elated. A quiet, calm activity like this was perfect for the both of you so you could enjoy each other’s company without many other people observing you. You walked side by side with the boy as you meandered through the exhibit that was showcasing artwork of animals in ancient civilizations. You stopped in front of a particularly cute sculpture of a dog, cooing softly.

“Megumi, look how adorable,” you said, and he nodded in agreement.

“Reminds me of my own,” he mused, referring to his divine dogs (you thought it was precious how close he was to his shikigami).

“Maybe we can bribe the curator with Gojo’s money to take it home with us.”

Megumi shot you a look. “Are you serious? I don’t think you can just take art like that.”

A few seconds passed.

“Can you?”

“I don’t know,” you said, “I was joking.”

Megumi was quiet as usual but the air about him seemed almost contemplative. After a few more seconds, he shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Gojo would probably break it anyway.”

“Wait, were you actually considering trying to buy it?” you questioned.

“Maybe.” The black haired boy shrugged, moving on to the next sculpture.

“Fushiguro the art collector, huh? Who would’ve thought you were so extravagant. Gojo’s spending habits must have rubbed off on you,” you teased, making him huff.

“Shut up,” he said, no bite to his tone whatsoever as you just giggled, cuddling up to his side as you continued on with your date.

Yuta:

“It’s like getting a million little kisses. I’m so in love with this creature.”

"Am I… jealous of a starfish?”

You were currently holding a starfish in your hands, its suction cups sticking to your skin, leaving behind a tickling sensation that you couldn’t get enough of. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, wasn’t a fan of your kissing analogy and was doing his best not to pout over something so silly.

“Yuta, come closer! It’s too cute not to hold.”

He couldn’t deny he was curious to see what the hype was about. People had flocked over to this exhibit in droves and you guys had waited in line to hold a sea star for an ungodly amount of time—he wasn’t going to miss out now. The handler put one in his hands too and he immediately understood what you meant earlier.

“They are really cute. I see what you meant by the whole kissing thing, that’s amazing,” he said, his voice laced with wonder and amusement as he watched the sea creature grip onto his skin. He then looked up and locked eyes with you, both of your irises alight with love.

“But I still prefer yours.”

Inumaki:

There’s plenty of fish in the sea but you’re the only one for me.

You raised an eyebrow at the words on the phone screen shoved in front of your face while you were watching some fish swim by in the aquarium tank. Toge, meanwhile, was dying laughing at his lame pick up line written in his notes app. Seeing his reaction made your lips quirk up into a mischievous grin as something came to mind. You pulled out your own phone and hurriedly began typing, thrusting it toward him when you were done.

I cod-nt imagine my life without you, Toge. You’re a reel catch.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your throat when you saw the grimace he wore.

“Fish flakes,” he said, putting his head in his hands and stifling giggles.

“My line was that bad, huh?” you asked, nudging him softly.

“Salmon,” he agreed, but the loving look he held in his eyes when they met yours again showed he was anything but bothered.

“You’re of-fish-ally the cutest boy I’ve ever seen,” you told him while ruffling his hair playfully, earning a loud groan from the blonde. He quickly typed out another sentence.

I’m so glad we go to the same school.

Noritoshi:

You were pleasantly surprised when Noritoshi asked you on a date to the aquarium. You figured he would’ve deemed it too childish or an experience not scholarly enough but you were wrong, now feeling the pull of his hand as he excitedly walked you around, pointing things out and chatting about things he had just learned.

“…and I just read that most fish don’t have eyelashes. Did you see that too?”

“Except for sharks,” you replied, a gentle smiling resting on your face.

“Exactly.”

Noritoshi took a deep breath as you led him to a bench to sit down and watch the jellyfish float around.

“I’m sorry for getting too passionate. I just feel like I can be myself here. There’s less… pressure, if that makes sense. Like I can learn things just to know them, not to impress anyone or get a good grade on something. It’s… nice.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I know what you mean,” you said, laying a comforting hand on his leg. Noritoshi rested his hand on top of yours and gave it a light squeeze, observing the entrancing dance of the jellyfish.

“They look so free,” he muttered. “I wonder what that feels like.”

Your head was now lovingly balanced against his shoulder as you squeezed his hand back.

“I promise you that one day you’ll know.”

Todo:

“Y/n! You have to watch this!”

You were happy to accompany Aoi to the local science museum for a date. You two were having a fun time exploring and trying out all the different experiments the museum had to offer. You weren’t sure what to expect when Aoi called you over to the experiment he had just done since you were enthralled in a presentation about lightning. You were confused when Aoi put his hand on a big ball, but all of a sudden, the hair in his bun became even spikier than normal.

“Static electricity!” he exclaimed, sporting a huge grin. Seeing how happy all of this made your boyfriend had you smiling from ear to ear as well. When he eventually took his hand off the orb, his hair didn’t quite go back into place.

“C’mere,” you giggled, gesturing to his hair, “I’ll fix it for you.”

“Thank you, my love,” he said, leaning over to where you could reach him. You combed the strands back into place and gave him a kiss on the cheek when you were done.

“You’re having a fun time today, right?” Aoi asked you, a rare moment of vulnerability from the muscular man.

“Of course, Aoi. Thank you for inviting me here.”

“No problem,” he replied, his cocky demeanor back as he winked at you. “Now, if you’re interested, there’s a presentation on superconductors in a few minutes. Do you want to see it?”

It always surprised you when you remembered just how smart your sometimes air-headed boyfriend really was.

Gojo:

When you invited Satoru to the science museum, he was extremely excited. Not because of the science aspect, no, but because he loved to eat the packs of freeze dried ice cream you can buy from the gift shop. You were busy reading a giant wall panel about physics when you felt the thunk of a head resting on your back and heard a sigh of exasperation.

“Are you finished yet? This is boring,” Satoru said, mumbling into your shirt.

“I’m trying to learn, Satoru. It wouldn’t kill you to learn something either. You’re a teacher, aren’t you supposed to have a thirst for knowledge?”

“I have a thirst for soda,” came a muffled reply from behind you. You rolled your eyes, going back to reading. Satoru kept fidgeting and you found yourself getting frustrated at his lack of focus.

“Since you know so much, why don’t you tell me about relativity and quantum mechanics?”

“Quantum mechanics studies the world by looking at just a few small particles like photons and electrons. Relativity is the theory of gravitation that Einstein proposed around the same time as quantum mechanics. General relativity studies the construct of space-time and gravity, while special relativity studies special conditions and scenarios, such as length contraction, which is where an object is moving near the speed of light and its length actually shortens. See, I already know this stuff, so can we pleeeease go to the gift shop now?” Satoru whined, throwing his head back in an exaggerated display of boredom. Your mind was still reeling over the fact that your boyfriend was… ridiculously good at science and never bothered to tell you?!

“I… yeah,” you said, completely dumbfounded. Satoru ignored the confusion in your voice as he cheered, grabbing your hand and leading you to the gift shop.

Geto:

You and Suguru were taking your time walking through the museum he chose for your date. It was nice to walk with him, holding hands and enjoying deep conversations about the pieces that were showcased in each exhibit. You came up to a bench in front of a particularly large infographic and took a seat, your lover sitting next to you. After he knew you were finished reading, he asked you the few little words he assumed would set you off on a passionate tangent (he was right).

“So, y/n, what are your thoughts on this topic?”

As you began to analyze everything you just learned, Suguru watched you intently, but not in a negative manner; he was just so genuinely interested in what you had to say that it was like the whole world around him disappeared every time you opened your mouth. He nodded along, hearing you bring up things he hadn’t even considered yet.

“I’m lucky to have a partner who’s so intelligent,” Suguru cooed, his thumb ghosting over your jawline, initiating this romantic moment like you two were the only people in the building. To him, you were the only people that mattered anyway, so what was the point in hiding how he truly felt?

Nanami:

“C’mon Kento, it’s not as scary as you think it is. They’re completely harmless.”

You were currently trying to get your boyfriend to pet the stingrays but he was not having any part of it. The color had drained from Kento’s face when you submerged your hand in the clear water, feeling the smooth surface of the rays under your fingertips. The blonde man wasn’t afraid, per se, but he didn’t think it was the wisest decision to be touching such a dangerous animal.

“Y/n, I just don’t think it’s a good idea. What if you provoke them?”

You were about to laugh when you saw he was genuinely distressed. Frowning, you stood up and tried to dry your wet hand the best you could before reaching out to him.

“Kento, honey, it’s alright. They have to be really angry to sting people. I promise you’ll be alright if you try it.”

Kento relented and leaned over the touch tank, hesitantly placing his hand in the water next to yours. When a ray swam under him, the rubbery texture gracing his skin, he immediately tensed up. Your unoccupied hand landed on his arm as encouragement and it seemed to help him relax a bit. A few more stingrays came over to him and Kento finally calmed down, smiling as he greeted his new friends.

Ino:

“Babe, look, that’s literally us.”

Ino caught your attention away from a particularly interesting exhibit about seaweed as he pointed to a diagram that displayed two fish with their mouths on each other.

“Ino, that’s very sweet, but I think they’re fighting.”

Your boyfriend leaned closer to read the tiny print, his hands in his pockets in a display of nonchalance that you always found supremely attractive.

“Oh, you’re right! They try to flip each other over like that. It’s like the Spider-Man kiss but more badass.”

You shook your head, lightly chuckling as you linked your arm in his and continued walking through the aquarium. All of a sudden, you gasped and tapped Ino’s arm excitedly.

“Oh my god! This is literally us!”

Ino’s eyes went wide and his smile grew bigger. You were showing him to a video that displayed otters holding hands as they drifted in the water.

“Yeah,” he said dreamily, resting his chin on the top of your head as you watched the animals on the screen, “it is.”

Choso:

You were sitting in a dark room of the planetarium, looking up at a projected sky full of stars with your handsome boyfriend. Choso had his arm wrapped tightly around your body, hand resting on your waist as your head was nestled against his shoulder. You sat there quietly, enjoying the peacefulness of the exhibit. The sight of the stars above you changed into a slow spinning view of the earth and you gasped lightly.

“Woah, look at how beautiful our world is.” You didn’t hear him reply, which was unusual, so you lowered your eyes from the spectacular scene above to look at the man next to you.

“You’re my world,” he stated bluntly, unrelenting gaze boring into your own. “You’re the brightest star in the galaxy of my life.”

“You’re so cheesy,” you said, trying not to show how flustered you got over his beautiful words. He just drew you in closer, adamant to never let you go.

Toji:

“How does this piece make you feel?”

“Like I’ve been here for hours and I’m hungry.”

Toji wasn’t the biggest fan of the art museum you dragged him to but you were glad he allowed you to take him here in the first place. It meant a lot to you that he would willingly go somewhere like this that completely disinterested him, but he would go to the ends of the earth to please you.

“There’s a cafe around here if you wanna go eat,” you said, paying him no mind as you studied the painting that grabbed your attention.

Toji scoffed. “And leave you here by yourself? No way.”

Your focus was now broken, instead trying to stifle a laugh at his overprotective behavior. “The art isn’t going to kidnap me, you know.”

“I know,” he grumbled, folding his arms across his chest, “but some dude might see a smart, attractive person like you by yourself and think he has a chance.”

“And I need my big, hot, uninterested-in-art boyfriend to keep an eye out for me?”

“Exactly.” Toji smirked at you while you rolled your eyes playfully.

“I appreciate that. I’ll finish up here and we’ll head to the cafe together then?”

“Sounds good to me.”

You went back to your contemplative state while Toji’s eyes wandered the room. He would never tell you this, but he found many of the pieces actually interesting and hoped you would take him along to more places like this in the future.

#yuji itadori x reader #megumi x reader #yuta x reader #inumaki x reader #noritoshi x reader #aoi todo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #toji x reader #ino takuma x reader

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vaguely-concerned · 2 months ago

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how much have the crows actually been sanitized outside of the very narrow view you get of them both in place and in time in veilguard, and how much is caterina deliberately putting her most presentable and pr friendly foot forward because she needs HELP with both the grandson and the antaam situations and is already playing from a weakened overwhelmed position. is she going to show off all the dirty laundry the crows undeniably have in front of the people she's courting for an alliance? is rook going to be looking a gift crow in the beak too closely when help is offered, go digging through that laundry basket on their own initiative on principle, knowing what you might find further down in it isn't pretty and might still be sharp, while the world is burning? is it entirely coincidental that the people caterina picks to interact with you most is teia -- the youngest, most charismatic and notably most weirdly idealistic of the talons -- and viago -- who is perhaps none of these things naturally but is dependable and logical and sharp and also down so cataclysmically bad for teia that when she runs in shouting 'TEIA YES!!! >:D' he sighs with longsuffering resignation and goes '...viago also yes. I suppose. under duress, let the record note' and follows.

surely parts of how each house functions would be left largely up to the individual talons, right? as long as they produce crows capable of doing the job and keeping up with the competition, I doubt the first talon micromanages how they get there (...for good or ill. lots of dead fledglings buried under that laissez faire policy, probably). they're very far away from a monolithic structure, they're constantly competing merchant houses/families striving to gain the upper hand held in check by little except 'if enough of the other houses shake hands and gang up on us for pushing our luck we're fucked, so don't push it too far'. like I believe lucanis says at one point, even calling them an organization is stretching the definition to a breaking point in some ways lol this is fully herding cats territory. all this to say that in this game we spend most of our time in teia's house. andarateia cantori, of the firm genuine conviction recognized as mildly unhinged by all the other talons that the crows truly are her family, who loves them with her whole unstoppable foolhardy thinks-she-will-die-young-and-live-eternally-in-song-and-story heart for it. teia, who won't leave the cantori diamond even to go home to sleep because she doesn't want the fledglings to have to see the place empty. do I think the way teia cantori would run her house is indicative of the average experience of being trained as and living as a crow? no. obviously. why are people seeming to assume that so immediately? sometimes I do wonder if I'm going insane.

between that and the antaam situation -- which turns the romanticized image antiva already is eager to reach for with the crows (the same way european literary tradition through the ages sure LOVES a knight, no matter what knights were actually like when you had one kicking around in real life) into an effective and recognizable symbol of resistance from an outside force (at least these awful little guys are home grown in a way we're kind of proud of despite it all and also they are deeply inescapably cool)... perhaps indeed a symbol of resistance and freedom that momentarily covers for a multitude of sins. I don't think we need to draw definitive conclusions about what the crows are like universially, historically or in different contexts from what we see in veilguard. sort of like the british in the pop cultural understanding being 'the good guys' when we think about WW2, and the sheer ludicrousness of that characterization of the british empire seen in any other context or angle lmao. I DO think there are some genuine writerly '*handwaves established ugliness aside aggressively* just uuuuuh don't worry about it! not important right now! you can feel at least ok hanging out with the cool theater kids but with murder they're like. comparatively chill in this context it's fine and they're fun' going on too. and you know what. they are fun. invenci is unfortunately objectively right, but the crows are sooo much more fun. and in fiction land that trumps all. absolutely baffling writing choice when you read through to the political/ideological conclusion that's reached from it of course (sort of accidentally? I think???), but would it really be a bioware game without a few of those. it's how you know you're home (derogatory and affectionate)

in short there are writing problems by god are there real problems here. obviously. and it'd take smarter and more knowledgeable people than me to properly untangle all of that. glorifying organized crime is a time honoured tradition in fiction that perhaps... shouldn't be quite so much and is uh risky, you're always playing with fire there. but I frankly don't think the 'de-edgeifying' for lack of a better term is that much of an inescapable one or that it erases what we knew of the crows before, we're just getting the angle on them in one very specific time and place in history and with specific individuals involved setting the tone. eight little talons killing off most of the established leadership beforehand so it's mostly only teia and viago who get to keep their full power base (even caterina and the dellamortes takes some losses in the apparent death of lucanis before the start of the game) probably figures into that somewhere too lol

#dragon age #dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age: the veilguard spoilers #dragon age spoilers #andarateia cantori #viago de riva #teia x viago #the antivan crows #people's 'RETCON!!!!' reflex seems to me. sometimes a bit overactive. there are other ways to read what's going on #why would the crows be presented in a more beneficial light while they're the main resistance group and symbol in an occupied city?#are there perhaps biases this situation and the people involved might encourage in-universe.#listen I'm sure they'll be back to the horrors and backstabbing in no time but for that shining moment in history they're uh.#well sort of the good guys. certainly the lesser of two evils which is sometimes the best you get.#I suspect there's going to be a bit of a bloodbath afterwards once all the houses realize they could just go ham lol

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reiding-writing · 1 year ago

Text

Are u willing to do a fic about an unsub!reader with early seasons Spencer? Like, the BAU has to team up with the unsub to catch another criminal with a similar M.O. to them and hijinks ensue (could be angsty hijinks or could be general scooby doo type situations) Idk!! I really like ur works and I've been thinking about this thing for days but my ass sucks at writing lol ;;

copycat—s.reid [1]

Summary:

The replication of a disturbing 2004 serial murder case calls for the BAU to get involved with the assistance of none other than the original killer themself. And whilst Spencer didn’t work the original case, he was eager to learn every detail about it, including its offender.

WARNINGS: made up murder case, graphic depictions of violence, implied suicide (actually murder), mentions of spencer’s addiction, sociopathic reader

s3!spencer/gn!unsub!reader || mystery || 4.5k || masterlist!!

part one !! , part two !!

unsub!reader masterlist!!

a/n: sorry to the person who requested this because tumblr deleted the actual ask but i did have it copied so at least it wasn’t completely lost 😭😭😭

left it here because people tend not to want to read really long fics. if people want a part two i will gladly oblige but otherwise its a decent stand alone to see how spencer would interact with an unsub like this

“James Harden, 23, was found two days ago on the bench of a public park in Los Flores, Orange County,”

The BAU team, barr Hotch, all settled in their seats as JJ arrived in the room.

JJ pressed a button on the small remote in her hand, two photos, one of each wrist of the victim, appearing on the screen behind her. “Both wrists had been slit, and the cause of death was concluded to be blood loss,”

“So, why are we being called in exactly?” Morgan raised an eyebrow, taking a sip from his coffee. The team was *tired*. They’d only gotten off a case three days before, and they were all in need of a break.

“Well, if you’d allow me to finish,” JJ shoots Morgan a pointed look to which he promptly raised his hands in surrender.

JJ presses the remote again, images of the victim’s wrists being replaced with images of his face.

There was a mix of reactions from the group, all of which perturbed, but some with more intent than others.

His head was laid limp over the back of the bench, his face pale and his lips white from the lack of blood flow to his head. Nothing they hadn’t seen before.

His eyes however, were a different story, covered up by a pair of red roses that had seemingly had their stems forcibly pierced into the victims eyeballs, leaving a trail of oxidised blood down his cheeks.

Morgan and Garcia shared a concerned glance that they simultaneously turned towards JJ, who matched their expression with her own.

“They didn’t-”

JJ shakes her head at the beginning of Morgan’s question, and Emily and Spencer share a confused glance that they turn towards their three teammates who seem to be locked in a silent conversation that only they understood.

“I feel like i’m back in high school again,” Rossi pipes up at the three from his seat, inadvertently calling them out on their exclusion of Emily, Spencer, and Rossi from their conversation.

JJ sighs as she adverts her eyes towards Rossi, her shoulders sagging slightly. “We worked a case in 2004…” She hesitates to elaborate any further about the details, and Spencer takes the opportunity to voice is own curiosity.

“You didn’t solve it?” He tucks his hair behind his ear, eyes glistening slightly as his eyebrows furrowed in JJ’s direction.

It’d been three years since 2004, and the idea that an UnSub could go postal for that long with an FBI target on their back was- something, to say the least.

“No, we did-” Garcia nods her head determinedly, her eyes lingering on the screen as if she was more focused on the images than the conversation.

“So, a copycat then?” Emily adds her part to the conversation, clearly concerned for her friend’s wellbeing.

“Most likely,” JJ nods her head sharply, looking back at the screen once more. “There’s only been one recorded victim so far, but we want to stop whoever is responsible before anything else happens,”

“Are you alright Garcia?” Emily’s eyes remain fixated on Garcia’s face, her usually upbeat persona dwindling into something more solemn.

“Hm? Oh, yes, of course my love bug, i’m alright,” Garcia shoots Emily a small smile as if to emphasise her point. “It was the first case I ever worked on is all, they just… stick with you ya know?”

Emily nods softly at her explanation. She knew what it felt like to have your first case stick in the back of your mind.

“Alright settle down everyone,” Hotch’s voice echoed through the conference room before he even stepped inside, and the team all diverted their attention towards him.

“I trust they’ve been briefed?” Hotch looks towards JJ, who gives him a nod before stepping aside so that he can take her place at the head of the table.

Hotch walks into the conference room with someone at his side. Someone who makes Morgan’s hand clench into fists and the small hint of optimism that Garcia had managed to keep fizzle from her eyes.

“You can’t be serious.” Morgan’s voice was stern and challenging as his eyes narrowed in Hotch’s direction. “Hotch-“

Hotch halts Morgan’s attempt at a rebuttal with his hand, raised in Morgan’s direction as he knits his eyebrows into a line. “They will be a valuable asset to the investigation.”

“You can’t bring a psychopath in here and expect us to just go along with it-” Morgan’s argument was interrupted by your voice from where you stood behind Hotch, hands clasped together behind your back.

“Sociopath.”

Morgan’s expression furrows further if that’s possible, eyes staring daggers at your face. “Close enough.”

“Actually, Psychopaths and Sociopaths are fundamentally different, with the only real similarity between the two being an extreme lack of human empathy,” Your eyes flicker towards Spencer as he corrects Morgan’s assessment, raising an eyebrow in his direction out of intrigue.

“Either way, you cannot expect me to be okay with working alongside a serial killer.” Morgan’s eyes don’t stray from Hotch’s as he speaks, not backing down from his standing.

“I don’t expect you to be. But that doesn’t change the fact that they will be joining us for this investigation.” Hotch’s tone marks the end of the debate, one that Morgan knew he’d lost before it even started.

Hotch gestures for you to take a seat at one of the empty chairs and you oblige, leaning the side of your left foot on top of your right thigh and relaxing back into the swivel chair as Morgan’s eyes bore holes into the back of your head.

The fact that you were even here was enough to spark the embers of rage in the back of his mind.

The fact that you were walking around freely with no restraints was even worse.

“For those of you who weren’t present, in 2004, the BAU team was called out to Malibu to investigate a series of murders that littered the city.” Hotch’s eyes flicker over to where Emily, Rossi, and Spencer were sitting.

“Eighteen people were killed over the span of ten days, crossing age, gender, and race boundaries typical of a normal M.O, with the only link being two roses in place of the victim’s eyes.”

Hotch’s eyes turn towards the images on the screen, yours following his own as you examine the photos with a small huff. “Are you sure that is person is copying me and that it’s not just a coincidence?”

“Putting roses in peoples’ eyes isn’t something we see in the field every day,” Hotch’s explanation is blunt and straight forward.

“My roses were white.” You tilt your head at him with a raised eyebrow. “That’s a pretty stark difference to just ignore.”

“Maybe he’s trying to make a name for himself,” Spencer throws the idea out into the air at your observation, seemingly undeterred by your criminal history now that his head was submerged in the case.

“Then be original.” You face furrows with a roll of your eyes. “Don’t copy somebody else’s idea, it’s not that hard,”

“That’s enough,” Hotch’s voice cuts through the conversation, his arms crossed over his chest. “We’ll discuss the details on the plane.”

Hotch picks up one of the open files on the table and tucks it under his arm. “Wheels up in thirty, i’ll meet you all there,”

A gesture of his head for you to follow him later, and he’s exiting the conference room with you on his tail.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You walk right past Hotch’s seat as you board the jet, opting to take a seat directly opposite the genius doctor that had managed to capture your attention in the conference room.

He looks up awkwardly as you sit down, not exactly sure what he’s supposed to do. Should he start a conversation with you? Should he continue reading his file and pretend he can’t feel your eyes pouring over his features like you were sizing him up.

He doesn’t have to think for too long.

“What’s your name?” Your tone lacks any social grace, but he supposes he can’t blame you. It’s not like it’s your fault you don’t feel or express your emotions in the same way that the majority does.

“It’s- uh- Spe- Spencer,” His awkwardness really shines through his tone, left hand scratching at his right elbow as a self-soothing strategy.

Two seconds into a conversation and he already wants to dig himself a hole and hide in it for the rest of eternity.

“Spencer Reid- Doctor Spencer Reid,” He purses his lips into a line once he’s settled on his full title, but it doesn’t stop him from blurting out more in his effort to get all of his thoughts out of his head. “Spencer’s fine though…”

“Doctor? Of what?” You skirt past his awkward introduction in your pursuit to know more, and he’s grateful that his completely lack of social skills doesn’t scare you off like it would most people.

“Well- I have PhDs in Mathematics, Engineering, and Chemistry,” Spencer tucks his hair behind his ear, his file falling over the side of his lap into the gap between his leg and the arm of the chair. “But i also have bachelor’s degrees in Sociology and Psychology,”

He shuts himself off after his over-winded explanation with a purse of his lips in your direction.

“I have a bachelor’s degree in Psychology,” Spencer’s eyes practically light up at your words, completely forgetting that you’re a convicted serial killer and instead hyper-fixating on your academic interests.

“Really? Did you do a Bachelor of Arts or Science?” You can almost feel the enthusiasm radiating off of his body as he leans forward in his chair slightly.

“Science,” You tap the side of your head with your finger and Spencer thinks he understands. It’s the same reason he studied psychology himself.

Because he was different.

Because his brain worked in different ways than other people.

He couldn’t even imagine how much more severe it was for somebody like you.

“How do you know so much?” Your tone isn’t chastising. It’s not questioning his knowledge because he’s ’too young’ or ‘doesn’t look like someone who would be an expert’ in niche academic areas. You genuinely just wanted to know.

“Well- I have a 187 IQ and an eidetic memory,” You’re eyes followed his as he explained his intelligence to you, chasing them to ensure the two of you maintained eye contact. “And I have a reading speed of 20,000 words per minute,”

You hum at his answer, seemingly satisfied as you lean back in the jet seat.

The silence between you doesn’t have time to get awkward before Hotch is calling the team’s attention to go over the details of the case thus far.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Spencer spends most of his first night in Los Flores on a laptop.

Garcia almost has an aneurism when he asks her if he could borrow one of hers.

It takes him almost 30 minutes to figure out how to use it, face lit by the harsh white light of the screen and softened slightly by the warm yellow of the lamp on his hotel bed’s side table.

Once he manages to pull up the internet browser he spends the next multiple hours researching. Pouring over every news article and journalist report that he can about the 2004 Malibu case that had you in its centre.

The 2004 ‘Malibu Rose Killer’. One of the most prolific serial killers in California’s history.

Eighteen people dead in just ten days. An extremely rapid escalation that held no victim pattern of any kind.

A spree that only stopped when the police found both of your adoptive parents dead after a welfare check concerning your father not turning up to work. Your two first victims.

You’d told the courts that it was a manic breakdown. A symptom of your previously undiagnosed sociopathy. That you weren’t in your right mind when it happened.

It worked to a degree, swerving you of a death penalty, but the fact that your parents’ crime scene had shown signs of recognition for your actions halted your defence quite a bit.

Instead of slitting their radial artery and leaving them to bleed out, you’d severed their spines from the brain stem whilst they slept.

And instead of piercing their eyeballs with two roses, you’d instead chosen to lay one in between their two bodies instead.

That was enough for the prosecution to say you had at least some knowledge of the severity of your actions, and so instead of being carted off to a psychiatric prison you were left in a regular old high security prison to serve two consecutive life sentences for the murder of your parents with an annual mental assessment.

He assumes that’s why you agreed to be here. To gain a lenience on your sentence.

He didn’t know why he found your story so fascinating, but he knew that he’d only be able to refrain from asking you questions for so long.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Spit it out.” Your words snap Spencer out of his thought-filled dazed, blinking at you as he slowly regains his senses.

“Huh?”

“Spit it out. Whatever you have to say to me.” Your tone, as he’s come to expect over the last few days, is very flat and straight to the point, clearly agitated at his eyes lingering on you for what you’d deemed too long.

You walk around the small table at the Orange County’s Los Flores police station with your arms crossed, confined there for the majority of the case as to not possibly initiate any ‘aggressive urges’ that might spawn from seeing a replica of your past crimes.

Spencer’s left hand absentmindedly scratches at his right elbow at your glare, clearing his throat and averting eye contact with you, both out of embarrassment of his unintentional staring and self-preservation towards your proclivity to get angry without real aggravation. “I- It’s nothing really,”

Your head tilts at him, your eyes telling him enough that your patience was waining and that you would get whatever he was thinking about out of him.

“I uh- did some reading… about your case-” Your expression morphs into an emotion that he can’t quite place at his confession, and he feels an overwhelming pressure to keep explaining himself as well as to just sew his mouth shut so he can’t say anything.

“And?”

“And… um- there was a part about it that didn’t really make sense to me,” He’s thrown himself in the deep end now, any hope of changing the topic of conversation long gone as he watches your eyebrow quirk in curiosity.

“Your parents…” Spencer’s eyes scan your expression intently as he mutters out the words, gauging your reaction to his words before he dares to continue.

“What about them?” You remain indifferent if not mildly compelled by the line of thought running through his head, and he’s internally relieved that he hasn’t pressed any of the wrong buttons in your fragile emotional state.

“Why?” Spencer mirrors the short, straight to the point wording that you seemed to be so fond of, and he can see you blank expression waver slightly at the question, like you weren’t sure how to answer it.

He watches the wrinkle in your brow become more prominent, how your eyes seem to loose focus and flicker around the room, the way you subconsciously shift from one foot to the other.

He’s not entirely surprised by your reaction. Sociopaths were very capable of harbouring emotions like everyone else. Anger, happiness, sadness, love, and even fear. Even if the intensity of them and the way they were expressed was different.

Right now your expression read as confusion mixed with mild apprehension, like you were considering whether or not you wanted to answer his question.

You still didn’t seem angry, which he was grateful for. He might have been a qualified agent, but that was with the exception of him not having to pass a physical examination.

And he really didn’t want to risk having to physically defend himself against someone who managed to kill eighteen people in the span of ten days because he’d accidentally said the wrong thing.

“They didn’t deserve to live with the knowledge of what I was going to do,” You tone is a lot less apathetic as you come to your answer, stopping intravenously to collect your words.

Spencer’s eyebrows furrow at your answer, not quite sure what to make of it.

“My turn,” Your eyes scan Spencer’s facial features, watching how Spencer’s eyebrows raise as you don’t give him time to compute your answer. “Do your higher ups know you’re an addict?”

The question is blunt, clear, and lacks any subtlety whatsoever despite the two of you technically being in a public place, even if you were the only people in the room.

Spencer’s eyes snap towards yours, surprise written all over his face. “You- I- Uh-“ His mouth falls open and closed like a fish as he tries to string a coherent sentence together, blinking at you with wide eyes.

How did you know that?

He falls short of an answer to your question, his eyes questioning you silently.

“Does your team know?”

Spencer shakes his head slowly. “If they do no one’s ever mentioned it..” He doesn’t know why he’s exposing himself to you like this, but theirs something in the look your giving him that tells him that he can’t lie to you.

“What great friends.” Your voice is practically dripping in sarcasm, and Spencer can’t help but subconsciously agree with you.

He’d waited and waited for someone to recognise that something was off with him. That he wasn’t all there.

But instead of it being one of his coworkers, some of which he’d known for years, it was a sociopathic serial killer that he’d known for 37 hours and 16 minutes.

Lucky him.

“They have more important things to worry about,” His hand returns to scratching at his elbow through his shirt, clearly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation.

You raise your eyebrow at him, clearly intrigued by the misfortune riddling his life; Almost as if it was a private viewing of a feature film made solely for your entertainment.

“Stop doing that.”

Spencer raises his eyes towards yours once more at your words, wide and glossy and making him look like a pathetic little puppy who’d been told off for tearing up a couch cushion.

You wonder how deep that patheticness goes.

“Don’t scratch. It’s annoying to watch and it’ll make your withdrawals worse.” You depart from the room before he can give you an answer, shutting the door harshly behind you as you spot Hotch in the main foyer of the station.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“I’m bored.” You swing your legs over the edge of the table you were sat on. You’d spent the last four days confined either to the hotel room you were sharing with Hotch or the small meeting room the OCPD had reserved for the BAU during the case.

You wanted a change of scenery. Desperately. You could only deal with monotony for so long.

At least back in your cell you activities you could engage in.

Instead you were just stuck as a fact checker for the details of each victim.

Five people had died now. Following your victim pattern to a T.

The first a young white man. The second a middle aged white woman. The third a male black college student. The fourth and fifth a young gay couple.

It agitated you. What happened to originality? Get your own random victims.

“You can accompany Morgan and I to the coroner’s office,” Spencer offered you a pursed smile at his suggestion, partly because he knew you’d be able to see more differences between the originals and recreations in person than through photos and partly because he wanted to crack you open.

He wanted to know everything about you. He wanted to know what made you tick. How you rationalised your crimes. How your sociopathy developed.

He was in deep. And his brain wanted answers.

“Absolutely not.” Morgan shot down the idea immediately with a stern shake of his head. “There is no way in hell we are bringing them with us,”

“They might catch something that we won’t be able to,” Spencer’s rationalisation wasn’t exactly wrong. Even in copy cat murders the offender always left a piece of themself behind. Something of their own personality rather than the killer they were trying to replicate.

It could be so tiny that no one would recognise it. Apart from the original offender of course.

“They might catch the bright idea to try and attack somebody.”

“Oh please-“ You roll your eyes at Morgan. “If I was going to have another mental break at seeing a recreation of my past endeavours I would have had it already,”

Morgan narrows your eyes at you calling your murder spree your ‘past endeavours’. You hadn’t published a book or painted some mural. You’d killed eighteen people.

“Reid’s right,”

He doesn’t have time to get angry at you.

“Hotch-“ Morgan looks completely betrayed.

“There’s only so much they can do to help us from here. We want to stop this before anyone else gets hurt.” Hotch’s tone is stern, leaving no room for argument.

“And if they do spiral out of control,” Hotch’s eyes flicker between Morgan and yourself. “I trust you’ll be able to take care of it.”

Morgan mutters something under his breath about ‘stupid hierarchies’ and how much he hated your guts as he left the meeting room with a huff, although more composed than you thought he’d be.

“Are you ready to leave?” Spencer’s question snaps you out of your revelling over Morgan’s distaste for you, although your small smile of satisfaction doesn’t falter as your eyes meet Spencer’s.

“Let’s go Doctor. I’m ready to get out of this beige abomination.”

You push yourself off the table and leave out of the same door that Morgan had, Spencer following closely behind you.

He was oddly grateful about your decency to respect his title, and it only made him want to read you like a book even more.

- part two !!

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