#they go to haunted houses during halloween with their friends

[justaz]

lance and keith are both horror junkies but on opposite ends of the spectrum. keith loves horror movies while lance loves true crime. lance forces himself to sit with keith and watch scary movies bc he like spending time with his bf. he spends the entire movie clinging to him, his arms so tight around keith’s ribs that he can barely breathe. keith returns the favor by watching true crime documentaries with lance. he is horrified at all of it bc y’know. its real. and thats scary. he insists on going with lance everywhere when he has to leave (ie to the store or a friends house or even the mailbox) and repeatedly checks their houses locks on all the doors and windows.

[lilgynt]

my 21 years of autistic + strict ethnic parents isolation vs my year stint as an autistic party machine fight

[neopuppy]

SOS (M)

pairing. alpha Jeno x female omega reader x alpha Jaemin

genre. haunted escape house AU👻, non traditional ABO, it’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to(or bang my older brothers friends), pw-minimal-p, M/F

warnings. profanity, y/n is Mark’s younger sister, pollen induced heat/rut, smut warnings under cut

wc. 10,000+

a/n. I am drunkhazed, no need to message to tell me that I stole my own fic.

smut warnings. f*ck or die, threesome, double penetration(vaginal/backdoor), slick, knotting, loads of cum, overstimulation, unprotected rough sex. mostly pure filth.

———————————————

I mіght burn with the flame evеn if it hurts me

I јust endleѕslу over and оvеr again go towаrds you

”Don’t think this rain is going to let up anytime soon.” Your brother calls out to you upon entering the house, followed by the sound of shaking his umbrella dry. “Hopefully it will be over by the weekend so we can still have the party.”

He smiles worriedly, reaching for your shoulder. “You had to be born during hurricane season.”

Not only during a time of temperamental unpredictable weather, but also during the spookiest time of the year. It was Hallow’s Eve when your mother pushed you out, still half-dressed up in a witch costume as she screamed, kicking the air and practically ripped apart the collar of your father’s cheaply made Spirit Halloween vampire costume; rueing the day she ever let him impregnate her, again.

“Should we plan for something else?” Mark scrolls through his phone, sitting down with a furrow between his eyebrows. “Horror nights? Might be sold out by now. Maybe a haunted hayride? We did that a few years ago though, was kind of boring huh...” he hums, snapping his fingers. “Maybe I can beg Jisung to sneak us into that new paranormal escape room. Tickets have been sold out since they opened but I’m sure if I pull some favors he’d be willing to help me out.”

“Is it really scary?”

“Shouldn’t be too bad pup.” Your brother grins, reaching to pet the back of your head. “Besides, I’ll invite the guys. You won’t have anything to be scared of with us around to protect you from all the spooky things that go bump in the night.”

Right. The guys.

The guys being your brother's best friends, the same ones that still treat you like some immature clueless puppy. It’s nice for the most part, the way they all coddle you and insist you stay their baby forever.

It’d be nicer if they didn’t feel the need to make it clear so often just what a baby you are. Acting like you are not only a year apart in age.

“What were you going to dress up as this year anyway?” Mark continues, texting his group-chat about the possible change of plans due to the erratic weather.

“Doesn’t matter I guess, my package still hasn’t made it. Might have to recycle an old costume.” You sigh, bummed that the brewing hurricane hasn’t only ruined your party but also your valid excuse to dress like a slut without a reprimanding lecture from your older brother.

“You should definitely bust out Gollum again.” He laughs, nudging your arm. “My precious.”

“Mark, I was a kid! Let it go!”

“What, a kid?! That was just last year!” He clutches at his chest offended. “That was our best costume! Do you know how hard we worked on those hobbit feet?!”

“You guys looked like idiots.”

“We did not!” He splutters, tugging on your hair. “Take that back! People still talk about how great me and Jaemin acted out Sam and Frodo’s friendship monologue.”

“Can’t believe he agreed to being the fat hobbit.”

“Can’t believe you agreed to being Gollum.” Mark laughs, adding a wink. “Well, I guess I can. That crush you had on Jaeminie back then was unbearable.”

“Shut up!!!!” You shout, nearly tackling your brother from the couch. “I did not have a crush on him!”

“Oh really? Because I believe your diary entry from October 3rd would disagree!” He runs behind the couch dodging your advances, raising his voice in pitch.

‘Jaemin presented as an Alpha today! I always knew he’d be an Alpha! Goddess he’s so handsome! I can’t handle the thought of him getting any bigger and stinking up the house with his pheromones whenever he’s over. What am I going to do, I can barely hide how much I like him already!?!?’

“Shut up!!!” You scream, lunging over the back of the couch to choke your brother out. “Shut up shut up shut up!!”

“You’ll never catch me!” Mark laughs maniacally, charging for the staircase to run and hide in his bedroom.

“You’re dead when I do!”

———————————————

“What the fuck is this?!” Your brother fumes at the bottom of the stairs, head shaking in disapproval as you flounce down toward him.

“What?”

“This costume!” He motions angrily. “What the hell is that!”

“Jennifer Check!” You say dumbfounded, rolling your eyes. “Like, duh! One of my favorite movies, you know! My costume made it on time!”

The front door pushes open right as you spin to show off the purple and yellow cheer costume, mini-skirt twirling around your hips showing off a pair of snug fit panties adorned with the words ‘I KILL BOYS’ across the backside.

“Woah.” Jeno stutters, falling against Jaemin’s side where they both stand, mouth agape and wide-eyed in disbelief.

“The fuck are you pervs looking at!” Mark smacks the two of them across their chests, grabbing one of his jackets from the coat hanger nearby to throw at you. “Go change! You can’t wear that!”

“What?! Don’t be a jerk!” You snap back, throwing the jacket at his face. “It’s my Birthday!”

Jaemin steps forward to grab Mark’s arm and tug him back. “Come on dude, it’s just a costume. Besides, it’s cute..”

“You would say that.” Mark mumbles, shoving his friend off. “When you’re freezing your ass off out there, don’t come running to me for my hoodie.” Your brother grunts again, headed to the kitchen with Haechan and Jaemin in tow.

“You can always borrow my hoodie.” Jeno grins, approaching you with open arms. “Happy Birthday, or well, early Birthday.”

“Thanks Jeno.. Mark can be a real dick sometimes..” you mumble, squeezing around the Alphas waist to tighten the embrace.

“I think he’s just doing his duty of fulfilling your protective older brother role.” Jeno’s palms smooth down your back, cupping your waist. “For what it’s worth, I love the costume.” Taking a step back he gives you a once over, slowly nodding. “Jennifer’s Body, great movie. Not quite a final girl though, but..”

“I thought about that, but since none of my friends want to battle this hurricane and it’s turned into an all boys party again,” you turn around, flipping the back of your skirt up. “I’d say my chances of surviving are pretty high.”

Jeno licks his lips, biting back the urge to smile. “You got me there.” Reaching for the chain on your neck he draws out the crystal Evenstar pendant hidden between your chest. “You’ll spare me, right?”

The Alpha strokes over the design, smiling as he remembers your last Birthday when you cried about dressing up as Gollum. “You should have done Arwen this year.”

“Without Aragorn?”

Jeno’s gaze drifts back to yours, setting the pendant in place to sit on your chest nicely. “Well..”

“Alright, let's start heading out before this rain picks up.” Mark interrupts, barging back out with a backpack full of snacks for the drive. “Jisung texted, they just let in the last group of the night to enter the escape house, by the time we get there it should be ready to go for us.”

Jeno clears his throat, patting away the sweat collecting on his palms. “Yeah, sounds good, let's grab our umbrellas from Haechan’s car just in case.”

“Passenger seat for the Birthday girl!” You squeal, waving at your brother's friends. “The three little pigs in the backseat!”

“Heyyy!” Haechan snickers, swatting the air behind you as you run past.

———————————————

“Stay close to me pup.” Mark pulls on your elbow, shooting a glare over his shoulder at his friends.

“You know escape rooms work better if we all separate and try to find the clues on our own.” Haechan laughs, shaking his head and throwing a thumb in Mark’s direction. ‘This guy.’ He mouths.

“Isn’t rule number 1 to not separate?”

“This isn’t a horror film Jeno, it’s a game.”

“What do you think Saw was?!” Jeno’s arms flail, bumping into Jaemin’s side. “I wanna play a game?!”

“Haechan’s right.” You sigh, tugging yourself free from your brother's grip. “The timers started already, we need to work faster.”

Mark frowns, pulling off his jacket to throw over your shoulders. “You look cold.”

“Oh my God, what happened to not sharing your jacket with me huh! You’re so annoying! It’s Halloween!” You screech, shoving it back at his chest.

Haechan snorts, patting his friend on the back. “You know, we’ve seen her in less than that.”

“I’ll fucking kill you dude.” He growls, lunging at his friend's neck. “Don’t talk about my sister like that!”

Jeno and Jaemin let them grapple, watching with half-amused half-annoyed expressions as their friends fall to the floor tackling each other.

“You guys think this is a hint?” You nod to a pile of photos, all containing different guests that have passed through the rooms caught off guard with mouths wide open screaming. “They haven’t taken our picture yet, maybe it happens in this room.”

“We have 7 minutes left.” Jaemin moves next to you, snapping his fingers to a camera tripod set up in a corner. “Maybe we are the ones who have to take the picture.”

Jeno opts to continue searching for clues, moving down onto his knees to get a look under a couch against one of the walls. “The riddle said something about letting your worst fear consume you.” He crouches lower, coughing at the dust that lifts as he reaches and pats around coming up empty.

“I hate clowns.” Jaemin mumbles, working on figuring out how to set up the old camera.

“Clowns?” You snort, anxiously moving closer to the taller, pretending to care about the camera. “Didn’t think you’d have a fear of clowns of all things..”

“Why not?” Jaemin smiles, avoiding your gaze as he continues to tinker and focus on an area to point the lense toward.

“I don’t know.. clowns aren’t scary..”

Jeno pats off his legs, neither of them wearing much of a costume besides masks they’d pocketed once entering the escape house, claiming it was too hard to see anything. “Remember that movie Cujo? Shit had me terrified to go near a dog for years when I was a kid.”

“Dogs?!” Both you and Jaemin respond abruptly, falling into laughter together. The tension evades your limbs as you lean onto his side and wrap around his arm.

“You can’t be serious!” You say, wiping at the moisture pricking the outside corners of your eyes. “Geeze, clowns and dogs.. here I thought Alphas were supposed to be tough and fearless.”

Jaemin scoffs, flexing the bicep wrapped in your hold. “Hey! A lot of people are scared of clowns!”

“Can’t lie, I’m feeling pretty tough right now, my biggest fear is probably like a demon entity that’s decided it wants my soul specifically.”

Jeno’s mouth opens, shutting and closing again before speaking. “That’s uhm, dark?”

“Understandable.” Jaemin shrugs. “Why don’t the two of you go pose like a demon just appeared out of thin air to suck the soul out of you like some Dementor.”

Jeno moves to stand next to you, pointing past where Jaemin stands behind the camera. “Over there!”

The other Alpha runs into the shot just in time for the flash to go off and capture the three of your fright filled surprised expressions, ejecting the photo onto the floor beginning to develop.

“Guys, the door!” Jeno says loud enough to grab Mark and Haechan’s attention on the other side of the room. The two glancing over confused from the puzzle they’ve been working on for the last few minutes. “It’s opening!”

He rushes forward, motioning for the rest of you to follow after, an impending beep beep beep emitting past the speakers above as you make way into the next room.

“Guys, hurry up!”

“We’re coming! We’re coming!” Haechan shouts, stumbling to stand and grab Mark’s shoulder to pry him up.

“Shit,” Mark misses a step, tumbling back to his knees. “Ah, fuck!”

“Dude!” Haechan shrieks, turning back to watch the door begin to slide shut with three sets of eyes peering back at him full of worry.

“Hurry up!” Jaemin screams, rushing to push against the thick metal sliding down.

“Jaemin!” Jeno draws the younger Alpha back to his chest, using his weight to pull him away from the slam of the door locking into place.

The slam of the door sounds final, more ominous as darkness pours over the room before the slam of bodies bang into the opposite side; power buzzing off with the clink of a lock setting into place.

“Guys?!?” Spinning around you begin to panic, unable to find either of your friends without the help of light.

“What’s happening?!” You fret, slapping the door that's shut behind you. “Mark?!?”

“I’m here!” He calls back, throwing his side against the other side. “Fuck!”

“Was everything supposed to shut down like that?” Jeno asks, patting around the room for a switch.

“Fuck, wish I had my phone.” Jaemin follows his lead, gingerly tapping along the shelves set up against one of the walls and cursing about the ‘no phones allowed’ rule. “Wait, I think I found a flashlight.”

A click illuminates the room, shining around displaying nothing much abnormal. A few chairs, cushions, and boxes stacked together in one corner. The shelf holding a variety of items from DVDs to books to sculptures.

“Is it me or is it kind of..” Jeno tugs on the collar of his shirt, gaze skirting around quickly in search of a vent. “Humid in here? I feel sticky already.”

Jaemin nods, shining the light on the boxes. “Yeah, it’s stuffy in here.. uh..”

Mark continues slamming into the door, calling out for help. A worried murmur following from Haechan. “Did the power seriously just cut out? Like, this isn’t part of the game dude??”

“Hey, Jeno… come here..”

Jeno’s eyebrows perk up, walking over to where Jaemin stands searching through slew of boxes. “What is i— what the fuck..”

“Wh-what room is this?” Jaemin stutters, peering over his shoulder where you still try to pull the door open. “What are we supposed to do with this?”

Jeno swallows, head throbbing hard enough to make his eyes squint shut, blinking away beads of sweat beginning to roll down his forehead. “I don’t feel..”

Jaemin dry swallows, shutting the lid to open up another box. This one at least offers more, a box full of masks, unlabeled pills, cloths and fresh water bottles. “You think this is safe to drink?”

“Mark, I can’t anymore.” You sound breathless behind them, palms slapping down weakly one last time before sinking to your knees before the door. “I feel hot.”

Jeno’s instinct shouts at him to help you, waving off Jaemin to squat down by your side and place a palm across your forehead. “Shit, you’re burning up.”

He cleans the back of his hand off on his pants, grimacing at how soaked his forearm looks, shirt clinging to his chest. “Maybe it’s me actually.”

Jaemin pants, shaking his shirt away from his chest the more it begins to cling to his skin. “The hurricane must have killed the power, I don’t think the air is working.”

The three of you fall silent, quietly listening to the barely there soft blow of air coming from somewhere. Shining the flashlight up to the vent, Jaemin squints, blinking away the sweat clumping his eyelashes together. “It’s not coming from there..”

Jeno shares a look with him, setting a finger on his lips to keep their voices down as he crawls around the room to find the source. Approaching the shelf, he pulls away a pile of books, coughing and falling back as a waft of strong dust flies at his face. “Jeno!” Jaemin runs over, coughing and waving away the air to help his friend. “What the fuck is that?!”

“It’s—“ you sit up on your knees, head heavy, dropping you to hold yourself on all fours.

“It’s pollen!” Jeno shouts, eyes wide and crazed, turning to bury his face in Jaemin’s chest to keep down a growl. “We have to get out of here!”

Jaemin panics, grabbing onto his friend tighter to pull them both away from the now fully uncovered hole pumping out endless waves of dizzying scent, circling them both and instantly weakening his will to move. “I-I can’t.”

Jeno bites down, face drenched in sweat, gathering at his chin in large droplets. “We have to get away from her!”

Jaemin can hardly hear his friends' screams over the overwhelming sound of his racing heart, each breath deeper than the last. Each inhale more crucial to his system, pumping toxic oxygen through his veins and overtaking his mind.

“We’re getting help pup!” Mark calls out again, sounding more pathetic than usual. “I’m going to get you out of there okay?! I promise!”

“Mark..” you cry, falling flat on your side out of breath. Pupils fully blown out covered in gold as heat engulfs your every sense, soaked right through your Halloween costume. “I feel..”

The smell of arousal hits the two Alphas next, punching them across the face both hard enough to snap their necks, awakening feral need to impale an Omega on their cocks.

“The box.” Jaemin gasps, covering his face with one hand and letting the flashlight in his hold fall, rolling around shining light around the room. “The chains.”

Jeno follows after him in a rush, pulling his sweat soaked shirt up to cover his nose and mouth. It’s useless, the pollen already integrated with their biology, shaking its way through their limbs and bones.

“We ne-need to..” Jaemin struggles, teeth chattering as he reaches for the box he shut just minutes ago, pulling it down with the tips of his fingers. The loud clatter of chains, ropes, sex toys and boxes of condoms spills across the floor, now making complete sense. “Jeno, tie me up. I… you have to tie me up.”

Jeno shakily reaches for one of the ropes, dropping it with an anguished moan at the first throb passing between his thighs. The pollen fully absorbed into his lungs from meeting it face on, he falls face first with a loud thud, chest beating wildly. “Jaemin, t-tie me.. me first— I—can’t.”

“Jisung’s here!” Mark calls, knocking the door happily.

Haechan runs back into the other room with their friend, both out of breath from racing their way back through the dark, using the employee route on the way back.

“What the fuck is this Ji?!?” Mark’s enraged tone is hard to miss even between walls, followed by a mumble of panic and worry.

“The power died, news is saying it could be hours..”

“So what?!? There has to be a way to open this door!” Mark shouts back, face full of heat and anger.

Jisung’s mouth falls, reaching to scratch his neck nervously. “I can’t go in that room.”

“What the fuck do you mean you can’t!”

“It’s the..” Jisung swallows, pulling out a map to hand to Mark.

“Sex pollen?!” His eyes widen, nearly popping out of their sockets before turning back to kick at the door. “If either of you assholes fucks my sister, I’ll kill you!!!”

Your brother's threat has Jaemin working faster to tie a knot around his friend's wrists, completely avoiding your existence by the room entrance despite the thick taste of slick filling his mouth. “Come on Jeno, we have to work together.” He says frantically, licking away the bats of sweat trickling from his upper lip.

“Alpha..”

The air stiffens, hard enough to shatter like glass if either of them were to take another breath. The two freeze in place, trembling with their hands gripped around each other deadly tight as the most beautiful helpless moan dances through their ears.

“Alpha, I need you.”

Jeno manages to somehow get Jaemin’s arms chained together behind his back, struggling as he fumbles with a pair of handcuffs to attach on the other and keep them locked together- at least for as long as their bodies will allow.

“Jeno..”

Your voice licks at his ear, back going stiff as his lips twitch and he nearly breaks down into tears. Every demand to control himself grows more distant, fading away past the chants to fuck, claim, breed and mate.

“Jeno!” Jaemin’s raspy shout cuts through him like a blade, falling forward in a daze as his canines burn as if the pollen has seeped into his brain and began to flow with the blood rushing through each of his rapidly pulsating veins. “Don’t! You can’t!”

“Alpha, please.”

The call beckons him to lift his head, lips coated in a thick layer of spit pouring freely the more he falls victim to the crushing need to give in to his primal desires.

“Alpha.” The land of your palms against his chest has him lurching up straight, neck going ramrod with wide-eyes at the realization of your lack of distance, having crawled your way closer to capture him. The loosely tied rope hanging off his wrists uselessly, easy to free himself from. “Need you, it hurts—it hurts Alpha.”

Jeno struggles to swallow, the lining of his throat blanketed with a molasses thick layer of saliva, making it harder to breath and forcing him to wheeze as he meets your blown-out gaze. “C-can’t, we can’t.”

“Jeno! Listen to me!” Jaemin shouts, mostly barricaded away by the fog thats begun to stuff the olders ears. “You have to resist! It’s the pollen, she doesn’t know what she’s asking for!!”

“Alpha..” your voice breaks past the piles of cotton stuffing his ears, managing to squeeze your way past his lack of sense as Jaemin fails to.

Jeno wants to tell you to stop, he wants to push you away as gently as he can, wants to control himself, but as you make the next move forward and settle onto his lap, he can’t find himself anymore; he’s gone. Lost in the delirious magic of your high potent arousal.

“Jeno!” Jaemin audibly struggles behind the two of you, neck twisting to watch you push down onto Jeno’s lap and circle his shoulders, the Alphas neck limp as he leans forward, forehead crashing against yours. “Jeno! Think clearly! Try to think!”

Jaemin cries between his screams, fumbling around with the chains and handcuffs the older had managed to lock shut just a minute ago, his chest aches; screaming with something akin to jealousy that he wishes to ignore and shove aside. He should’ve contained the other Alpha first.. Jeno got hit with the pollen hardest..

“What was I thinking..” he sighs, forcing his eyes shut to look away from the first roll of your hips landing down against his friends. Jaemin bites back a growl, head dizzy the more he tries to work through the jumble of thoughts racing past him.

Mark will kill you.

Mark will kill you.

Fuck his sister.

Fuck his sister.

Fuck her now before Jaemin can claim your Omega.

Jeno can’t tell anything apart in the room anymore, the only clear vision in front of him is you. If not for the incessant need to feel every inch of your flesh he’d move slower, he’d move faster if not from his own exhaustion and resistance still struggling to bring him back.

“Jeno..”

“Omega.”

“Yes.” You gasp out, clawing at his chest for some type of contact. Everything burns, from the blood pumping through your veins to the heat raging through your nerves; screaming through your bones to have your Alpha, to consume every bit of him.

“Want me to fuck you?” Jeno hisses, head spinning as your scent invades his nostrils and takes over any minor hint of sense he possibly had left.

“Jeno, no!” Jaemin fights to unlatch himself, the flesh lining his wrists cut through with each pull and cry he lets out the more he fails to get free. “Don’t!”

The Alphas cock thrums, aching up his chest with a pained howl swarming his mind. The pollen awakening his feral instincts, shouting at him in anger to not let another Alpha have you before he can.

“Is that what you want?” Jeno clutches onto your hips, rutting you down against the stiff lump protruding from his crotch, panting along your lips that part open the faster he works you down.

“Inside,” you breathily gasp, flushed by the heavy want and need to press flesh to flesh. “W-wanna feel you inside.”

“Ah, fuck.” Jeno rocks your hips down urgently, ass lifting up to push harder against the seat of your underwear. Wound up too tight to stop himself, he manages to maneuver you onto your back with quick speed, still humping erratically between your thighs for some type of friction. “Fuck, I can’t.”

The Alpha jerks once, twice, neck strained back in arch leaving the veins lined up his neck on full display for your Omega to salivate over, canines aching to dig in and mark him up. With tight lips he grunts, circling down against the now wet fabric of his boxers, soiling through his jeans as release spurts out and makes a mess between his cock and underwear.

“Alpha?”

Jaemin scoffs loudly, chains rattling with another curse as he shouts to be let free. “You can’t even get your pants off before cumming!”

Jeno grimaces, ducking down to kiss your chin apologetically. “Alpha please, need your cock, need it inside.”

God, your begging can make his head explode, crumbling as he litters searing pecks down your throat and licks over the pendant splayed on your chest. “Wanna be inside you.” He pants heavily, gliding beneath the cheerleader top keeping your breasts hidden, scooting the material just high enough to expose the hardened tips of your nipples for his thumbs to flick and press down on.

“Alpha!” Screeching and arching you, you writhe under his hold, lengthy palms swipe up your sides, cupping your chest to bounce up as he bites down a moan and grinds harder against the soaked material of your panties.

“Unchain me!” Jaemin’s shouts grow lost the more the thick scent of your sweet slick wraps around Jeno, opting to replace a hand on your breasts with his mouth in favor of finally reaching down to unbutton and tug himself free.

The Alphas lips encase your nipple, tongue lapping roughly as if he expects something to trickle out. Already envisioning the sweet nectar of your lactating breasts after he fills you with enough seed to ensure you carry his pups. Without a clear mind to process a thought beyond fucking and breeding, Jeno tugs at his wet cock, shoving your panties to the side with the same cum covered hand before slapping the thick length against your already swollen slit.

“Please please please!”

Jeno growls, gliding the girthy meat between your blood filled cunt, the arousal hot enough to scorch around him, making his chest flutter with fear and hunger. “It’s all for you.” Hauling one of your thighs up, he leans in to lick across your upper lip, puffing wheezed breaths as the tip of his cock prods at your entrance.

“Alpha, Alpha!” The pathetic cries you let out as he works into your tight heat has his eyes rolling back, cock throbbing enough to feel each tremor pass through his limbs.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” Jeno groans, eyes clenched shut when he hits obstruction and the weight of his heavy balls slaps against your ass. “Oh fuckkk.”

“Alpha,” you sigh dreamily, mouth hung open covered in drool. “Feel s-so good, feel so big.”

Jeno’s forehead presses to yours, sweat slipping your skin together and pushing his nose to dig against yours. “It’s you, so fucking tight.” He emphasizes with a pointed thrust, inching out to the tip only to feed his cock back inside much faster and pick up the pace until your hole finally gives around him and he can fuck into you with a renewed ease. “That’s it, relax for me baby, you like that? Like how my cocks pounding into you so fucking good.”

“Jeno,” you gasp, lower back arching up with each expert thrusts. The Alpha more experienced than you, evident by the way he takes control and fucks you harder without having to beg for more. “Love it—love your c-cock.”

Jeno fucks into you even harder at that, dripping with sweat as your bodies run together chasing the highest high, mind numb with nothing but the desire to feel his cum shoot out deep inside of you. “Louder.” He smacks your thigh, the clap thunderous throughout the room, forcing Jaemin to twist up from the floor in seek of his own pleasure.

“Asshole.” He cries, tears streaming down his cheeks as he breaks and watches the two of you lost in the animalistic desire that has you fucking like two feral blood thirsty wolves in heat. It’s enough behind his wet vision to tune the other Alpha out and focus on the euphoric pleasure that's taken over your usually innocent angelic face.

“Love your cock!” You whine, face wrenched up as you turn away and your head bounces back from the overwhelming sensations racing through you. “Love it so—so much.”

“Fuck yeah.” Jeno groans, beginning to lose rhythm as his hips stutter and he pulls out completely one more time, quickly punching back through your tight heat in one go just to feel you clamp down around his cock to a suffocating point. The Alphas everywhere, arms encasing your head as he leans in and licks down your cheek to capture your lips, balls tightening up letting him know he’s close. So close to filling your womb with cum, fucking faster and faster even as you pulse around his length and jostle under his punishing thrusts. Pussy milking his cock dry as you hit climax and grip around him mercilessly.

The kiss grows sloppy, weight dropping down as he sucks your bottom lip in and circles his cock deep inside until the last white string shoots out. “You okay?”

Jeno pants loudly, clothes heavy on his back now drenched by sweat. He waits for you to nod before pulling out with a hiss to fall by your side and allow his eyes to fall shut for just a minute, a minute to catch his breath. A minute too long as you already find yourself crawling to Jaemin, ripping at the cheerleader top halfway up your torso.

The Alphas gaze lifts to yours excitedly, licking his lips as he shakes his head awake after seeing white as he fucked up into the air and came inside of his pants. “Alpha.” You say in the most seductive tone he’s ever heard, better than music to his ears in this hedonistic state.

“Pup, help me.” Jaemin sounds shattered, voice raspy as if sandpaper scrubbed his vocal chords. “My hands.”

The scent of his release punches into you, scrabbling up his thighs to remove his pants from hiding him away. “Alpha, need more, need you.”

“Please puppy,” he grits, thighs trembling under your eager hands, hips twitching up. “Please get my hands!”

The tormented whine he lets out steals your focus long enough to show concern, nodding as you scoot in closer and reach around to his back in search of the chains latched together.

“Need to t-touch you.” He whines pitifully, helping you by shaking his forearms weakly with each unravel of the chain. “Need to—“

Jaemin lets out the loudest blood curdling howl, finally able to roll his wrists around, he pounces up to settle on his knees, hoisting you by the waist to be manhandled onto all fours. “Just like that.” His large palm closes around the back of your neck, pinching the skin taut until you mule and whimper, arching back showing off the obscene mess you’ve made.

Jaemin snarls at the sight of another Alphas cum smeared all over your underwear, quickly digging his sharp nails into the material to tear them off, the seams ripping apart nastily loud, pulsing terror through your nerves. “Let him fuck you before me?” He growls, leaning over your back and landing a strike to your ass.

“You’ll let anyone fuck you? Slutty Omega, any cock would satisfy you.”

“N-no Alpha,” you squirm, buttcheek stinging for less than a minute before another whip-like slap lands. “Ahh!”

“Don’t lie to me, Omega.” The Alpha grunts, sparing your ass from another hit to work his pants down and flip your skirt up, sad excuse of underwear(that you paid extra for) left shredded into pieces nearby. “No fucking point, I’ll fuck you the way you deserve.”

Jaemin wraps around his length, swiping through the wetness covering your inner thighs as he works up to your slit and pushes between your swollen soft folds. “Fuck you like I found you out in the wild, pussy leaking everywhere begging to be claimed.”

“Yesyesyes! Alpha, take me!”

“So fucking wet.” Jaemin rasps, wrapping your hair around his fist to pull your neck up and attach his lips to your jugular, softly teething at the vein pumping fiercely against his tongue. “Don’t move, or I’ll really make it hurt.” He says between kisses, licking at the sweat dangling from your jawline.

The Alpha shoves up, keeping the hold on your hair tight as his arm extends to push your chest to the ground, hips ramming against your supple ass. “Present.”

A gurgled sound of agreement leads your hips to push open, ass lifted high as you spread apart, placing your soaked cunt perfectly under the dim streaks of light coming from the scattered flashlights. “Good girl, keep it exactly like that for me.”

Jaemin slaps his length between your thighs a few times, biting down to keep his moans at bay. “Omega with the prettiest pussy, how’d I get so lucky?” He mumbles, head spinning this close to your sugary sweet scent.

“Ah, p-please—ahhh!” Without wasting another second he slams in, finding lack of resistance thanks to the amount of slick spilling out of you, and maybe because someone else was too greedy before he had the chance.

“That’s it, take all of it.” Jaemin says, lapping at the saliva slipping from his plump lips and grabbing a firm hold on your hip with one hand while keeping your head twisted painfully. He begins to pound fervently; turning just in time to catch Jeno’s eyes fluttering open, irises blown out red full of hunger. “This is what you needed, Omega? Feel that pussy nice and stretched around my cock? Tell me.”

“Y-yes!” You sound near death as you shout, fucked into like nothing but a cocksleeve to fuck for his own gain. Jaemin growls, tugging your hair to turn your gaze to Jeno’s.

“Say it.”

“N-needed,” you wail, cock sliding in and out of you easily, copious amounts of slick rammed out with each pump of his length pushing in deep. The wetness claps through the room, drenched thighs shaking form the force of the Alphas weight slamming down. “C-cock, needed!”

“Say you needed my cock.” Jaemin says in a lowered strict tone, scooping around your waist to pull you back onto his cock even faster.

“Yours!” You shriek, the Alpha squatted over your back with his feet flat to the floor to gain power. Jeno’s lip curls, pushing up to sit and throw off his sweat soaked shirt. “Yours Alpha! Ahh fuck!”

He sighs, cock aching already from listening to your pretty sounds, even if he’s not the one receiving them.

“Pussy so fucking good.” Jaemin grins at the other Alpha, drawing his cock out inch by inch to admire the thick gloss of slick stained up to his abdomen. “How am I supposed to stop fucking you now?”

Jeno rolls his eyes, moving closer to slap Jaemin’s hand away from your hair. “Sweet little puppy, you’ll do anything for some dick.”

He snickers a bit, forcing a soft smile when you blink up clearly lost to the feeling of being stuffed full again and again. “You close baby?”

“Pussy’s gripped around me so tight,” Jaemin adds, fucking at a punishing fast and strong pace.

“Y-yes,” you slur, finding comfort in Jeno’s palm gliding over your cheek. “Wa—wanna cum!”

“You cum when I tell you to cum.” Jaemin says despite your consistent whines, slamming down hard enough to have you slip on your knees, pushed belly flat to the floor to be used as nothing more than a fucktoy.

“Alpha! No, please!” You kick, screaming through grinding teeth. Jeno glares at the younger, snaking his free hand under your hips to find your clit and pinch the bud between two fingers.

“Shh shhh, it’s okay puppy.” He says sweetly, watching your eyes roll back leaving nothing but whites behind. “Don’t listen to him, cum for me.”

Jaemin’s hips barrel down even faster, enraged that the other Alpha has the audacity to touch you. “If you cum, I’ll punish you worse than this.” He says in a deep low registered growl, colliding down against your ass hard enough to bloom bruises tomorrow.

“It’s okay baby, cum for me.” Jeno repeats, thumbing away the tears tracking freely down your cheeks, dick throbbing the more his hand gets drenched with slick.

“Alpha—I—I,” your eyes roll up, empty of thought as gold coats across any color, fiery and wide, lips parted in a silent scream. Jaemin curses behind you, struggling for a moment to push through the ruthless clench of your heat, he fucks through your orgasm even with slick shooting out around his length making it harder to fuck you fiercely.

“Shit.” Jeno salivates, licking at his lips repeatedly as his hand draws free from under your collapsed weight and takes in the arousal that slid down his forearm.

Jaemin’s movements turn erratic, slapping sweaty palms down on your upper back for leverage to keep going even as his release approaches; lost in the depths of his own nonsensical pleasure. “O-oh shit!”

The Alpha stutters, letting out a high-pitched sound similar to a wounded puppy, hips hitting with finality as he finally lets go and shoots drop after drop of cum deep inside of you.

Breathing becomes harder with Jaemin’s chest landing against yours, slapped over and over again by the older Alpha to move. “Get off of her.”

“Ah, fuck you.” He mumbles, biting down on his lip as he slips out, half-hard cock landing against his pelvis softly twitching. “Damn.” His head reels for a minute, calmed momentarily. Coherent thoughts pass by, blinking slowly at the ceiling as he takes in deep inhales of pollen filled air and quickly succumbs to the desperation, the need to be inside of you again.

“Jeno,” you whimper, reeling from being fucked back to back.

“More?” He asks, taken aback but also not surprised, his own arousal spiking up at mere glimpse of you.

Nodding, you turn lazily, cupping to cover your mound to hide. “H-hurts..”

“That’s fine.” Jaemin speaks up, moving next to his friend with a grin as he kneads your ass, lifting your buttcheek to get a good look at your hole. He bends forward, swiping two fingers between your pert mounds, circling over the rim. “Jeno got to fuck your first..”

He says, peering over his shoulder at the Alpha with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’ll make it feel good, puppy. Real good.”

Shivers run up your spine, Jaemin pushing his way closer to hold your ass apart with his lips pursed together, dropping a wad of spit just to watch it dribble down your rim. “Want it?” He asks, digits digging into the meaty flesh of your bottom.

“Alpha..” your hole pulses, winking enticingly, answering for you as he surges in and runs his tongue across the wrinkled entrance.

“No time for all this,” he says between huffed breaths, setting a searing kiss on your rim. “Sorry angel, promise it’ll get better.”

Confusion draws your eyebrows together, manhandled up for your back to lay against the Alphas chest, pushing between your thighs from behind he rubs between to gather up the wads of slick continuously pouring out, cock dripping with the thick cream. “Ready?”

“Unghh..” lifelessly, you shake your head, unsure what he’s even asking. Jeno moves in to take a hold of your waist.

“Slow, give her time to adjust..” he says in a low warning, already imagining the younger to brutally fuck into you as he already did. “Don’t hurt her.”

Jaemin mumbles a curse, stroking the slick up and down his size and smearing the rest over your rim. “She can take it, she’s a good Omega.” He whispers, gaze directed to your lower halves with focus on the tip of his cock nudging at your rim. “Isn’t that right angel?”

Heavy breath fans Jeno’s lips, watching your eyes widen at the first inch pushing past your viscously tight rim. “Shh shh, it’s okay.”

Cupping your chin, he kisses lightly across your upper lip, stealing the pained moans passing through with a firmer press. Jaemin groans gravelly behind you, holding your ass spread apart to ensure the best view of his cock stretching your hole open.

“Fuck, that’s too good..” he whines, teeth grinding together the more his cock disappears. “What a good slut, hmm? Taking Alphas cock anywhere.”

Jeno can’t help but rut against your hip, growing more hazy with the vibrations of your cries tracing past his tongue. “Can I fuck you too?” He asks desperately, nose rubbing against yours sweetly. “Please?”

A light nod gives him enough answer, thanking you with a firm kiss and tongue massaging around yours. “The best Omega for us.”

Jaemin grunts to agree, pushing in balls deep with a shout, neck stiff and rippling. The tight clamp of your ass has his thighs shaking, heavy hands smoothing around your hips to press down on your lower stomach. “Fuck, this is crazy.” He says with a meticulous roll of his hips, ass bouncing against him. “..Won’t last long inside this pretty tight hole puppy.”

Jeno’s fingers pass between your thighs, teasing past your folds to rub circles at your sore stretched entrance. “This okay?”

“Fuck man, hurry the hell up before my dick falls off.” Jaemin growls, biting at your shoulder to stave off the the urge to completely pull out and fuck back into you raw, throw you back onto your knees like a good little breeding bitch.

“Alpha, p-please, put it in—“ you drawl, vaginal opening spasming around the tips of Jeno’s fingers. Kissing at the backs of his teeth, he nods fast, gripping his length to push between your fleshy velvety folds.

“More, more!” You whine, slapping and clawing at his chest. Jeno hisses, guttural and deep, grabbing your flailing arms and clutching your wrists together, shoving them to your chest with one hand to keep you held in place.

“More? Wanna become our pretty little slut? Fucked by two Alphas at the same time?” He asks softly, the words sounding sweeter than they should from his pretty pout.

“Yes yes yes! Jeno, Alpha! Please please,” you gasps, head rolling back, neck dropped against Jaemin’s shoulder. “Wan-wanna be filled so bad, so fucking bad.”

“So God damn pathetic,” Jaemin whimpers, licking the light teeth marks left behind on your shoulder.

Jeno thinks he might pass out if he doesn’t get his dick inside of you in an instant, steadying himself with the hold on your wrists, he strokes at his shaft one more time to spread the slick; slowly pushing the tip in past your opening as he leans in and huffs over your lips. “How bad do you need it?”

“Please!”

Jaemin screams a slew of curses, gripping hard around your waist and slamming you down to fully take Jeno’s length. Choking on your breath, you stiffen up, legs falling apart only held up by the Alphas keeping you full with their thick cocks.

Jeno’s lips twitch, face dropping to catch his breath as he notices a bulge jutting out under your navel, experimentally swirling his hips forward to see the skin protrude from his cockhead pushed that deep inside of you. “Fuck! Oh fuck.”

He gasps, short of breath admiring the skin stretch out, his cock overbearingly hot with Jaemin’s filling you up from the other side. The skin separating their lengths thin enough to feel the younger Alphas girth rest against the underside of his, throbbing together deep inside of you. “That has to hurt baby.”

“That’s it.” Jaemin encourages, struggling to speak with wads of saliva wrapped around his tongue. “You’re doing so well.”

“F-fuck—me.” You beg, eyes clenched shut tightly, growing delirious with need to feel the Alphas move in and out of you.

“Feel stuffed full, huh?” Jaemin grits, punctuating the question with a harsh thrust.

“So—so good!” You sob, reeling as Jeno follows and removes his length leaving only the bulbous tip of his cock inside before pummeling back in, fucking with full force. Pulling out only to bury back into the hilt again and again, pussy skin grasping around his cock better than anything he’s ever felt before.

Jaemin gets lost in the feeling of your taut pulsating ass swallowing his cock, head spinning with each honey-dripping moan you let out by his ear. “Ah—God, your ass is too fucking good.”

The Alphas begin to work their hips faster, simultaneously thrusting in and out, cocks moving in unison unbeknownst to each other. The rhythm they build up feels punishing, pushing you into a state of ecstasy; gasping out short little breaths as your lungs close in.

Jeno reaches down to rub at your clit with his thumb, swollen nub beyond sensitivity, stealing a fast orgasm out of you. It hits harder than any so far, blacking out as your breath is punched out of you. Thighs quivering and cramping as a stream of clear slick rushes free from your convulsing cunt, arching out high enough to land on Jeno’s abdomen and trickle down.

“Oh—shit—ah,” he shouts, cock stilling as Jaemin lets out an ear-shattering growl and his solid biceps squeeze around your waist, lifting you up and down to thrust in and out of your asshole at a relentless pace.

With your pussy continuing to pulse, Jeno buries his cock back in. Biting down on his lip as you keep squirting around his length.

“Alphas—s’too much, ahh! C-can’t!” You whimper, helplessly trying to free your wrists from Jeno’s strong grip.

“You can take it.” Jaemin says with demand, moving in and out with measured strokes, the tip of his cock leaking maddeningly.

“And you will.” Jeno finishes saying for him, firm hold continuing to restrain your wrists as his free hand circles your throat.

Jaemin blinks back tears, half-upset that he can feel his climax approaching. Snapping quick jabs of his length as he chases after the peak of pleasure, he bites down on your shoulder roughly, nipping the skin hard enough to hurt. “G-gonna cum—“

He grunts out, thrusts becoming more harsh and erratic forcing Jeno to halt his movements, allowing you to be fucked down by the harsh thrusts Jaemin pounds into you with.

“P-please Alpha—wan-want it!”

Jaemin yells, pumping his hips up sloppily a few more times, cock pulsing with hot spurts filling your ass. Quietly moaning with his head dropped, not even able to hold himself up anymore.

Jeno gently pushes his shoulders back, scooping you by the waist with one arm, cock slipping out as he shifts away to reposition you.

“Just a little more for me?” He can’t guarantee he’s not lying, under the heavy spell of sex pollen coursing through his veins. Turning you on your back, he adjusts between your thighs to seeth his cock fully back inside, savoring the heat blanketed around him yet again. “How—how are you still so so tight.”

The Alpha would guess you’re a virgin if he didn’t remember last summer when he found you in a jacuzzi alone with some guy nowhere near your league, bikini bottoms floating away with guilt stained across your face.

“Should’ve been me,” he murmurs, quick to capture your lips and thrust fast, but short, cock mostly inside. Too addicted to the feeling of your walls sucking around him.

“K-knot me, please, please please, Alpha please.” Your lips tremble as you plead, making it impossible for him to refuse. Not that he would, reaching between your bodies to rub figure eight’s around your swollen clit, he groans, fucking faster on the brink of orgasm.

“Can you take it?” He asks, only to see you nod maniacally, biting down on the backs of his teeth with a wrinkled skewed forehead the more he exerts himself to pinch your clit in succession with his rapid jerky thrusts. “Take all of it for me pup, it’s all for you.”

Coming to an abrupt stop he twitches harshly, cock beating against your insides with the first shot of cum bursting free, painting a mess of white inside with the tip of his cock pressed up to your cervix. “Ahhh!—“ Jeno’s lips curl in, struggling to breathe properly as the base of his cock swells painfully and he has to push in deeper, push in the feel as much of your hot tight cunt kissing at his knot.

“Ugh!” Slick streams out, splashing against the enlarged base of his length keeping all of his cum trapped inside. The possibilities of being full of pup spiraling through the both of you, pushing another shot of pleasure out of your tired body.

“Fuck.” He sighs, wet hand moving to hold the back of your neck and take in your fucked out face, take in your wide dreamy gaze. Envisioning how perfect a future between the two of you could be.

Even if this whole thing was some freak accident, his Alphas never felt this elated, full of life and love. “Mate.” He says with a grind, knot pushing against your sore tender entrance, having tears sting behind your eyes.

“I’ll take care of you.” He whispers, kissing down from your cheekbone to your chin, gently sucking at your jawline before he makes way to your neck. “And you’ll belong to me, only me.”

Possessiveness burns through his heart, beating faster as he takes in your scent gland and pulls at the thin chain around your neck too roughly, snapping the metal for his nose to graze freely. His teeth itch with need, licking at his canines the more they throb up to his gums and his wolf howls to bite.

Do it.

Bite her.

Our Omega.

“Alpha..” you say weakly, eyes drifting shut from the exhaustion of heat and the overbearing scent of Alpha seeping from your pores.

“Omega.” He hums, licking up the column of your throat only to lick back down again, willing himself to not bury his teeth in. “My perfect Omega.”

Even half-passed out, your body responds, heat sucking around his length earning a deep rumble from his chest, he hisses, grazing higher for his teeth to scratch closer to your nape.

“Please..”

Jeno thinks his minds playing tricks on him, head full of clouds as he bites down just hard enough to leave a mark and not break the skin completely. It seems to be enough, for now, to satiate both of your wolves. The tension leaves his spine as he relaxes against you, nose firmly tucked against your scent gland.

“I’d give you the world if you asked.” He mumbles, eyes drifting shut for no more than a few minutes as his knot finally goes down enough to at least shift onto his side.

Jaemin grumbles, slowly coming back to, no doubt wanting to fuck again. “Move.” He says from behind Jeno, sitting up only to come to a halt as the door slams up streaking light from the other room over your figures.

“Get off of her!” Mark shouts, spit flying from his mouth as he grabs Jeno’s shoulders and rips the larger Alpha away with strength that can only be fueled by rage.

Protective instinct takes over, throwing his jacket down before anyone can get a look at you. “Haechan, give me your hoodie!”

Haechan rushes to unzip himself and quickly hand over the baggy hood, your brother fast to wrap you up safely before lifting your exhausted body and shooting a glare at his friends. “I’ll deal with you two later.”

———————————————

After a long talk involving a ton of yelling and crying, Mark finally decided to let it go; having to accept that maybe you aren’t a baby anymore.

“You’re still my baby sister though and you always will be.” He grumbles, tugging you close to his chest with an arm around your neck.

“Always.”

“And..” he sighs, releasing you to give you a stern look. “I don’t think I can handle you dating one of my friends quite yet.”

“Markkk!” You whine, smacking his arm. “I already told you!”

“Yeah yeah, I know, it’s not like that.” He says sarcastically, throwing up quotations. “But it’s going to be weird now regardless, I mean..”

“You think so?”

“I don’t think any normal person can go through what the three of you went through and..”

“Well they’re coming over in a bit to help set up the new console system so.. I guess we’ll find out.”

Mark sighs, running a hand through his hair repeatedly. “If they make you feel uncomfortable—“

“They won’t.” You cut him off, smacking his shoulder. “Don’t forget they’re still your best friends who have done nothing other than respected me and done their best to take care of me too.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” He grumbles. “But if either of them do anything to step out of line!”

“Yes yes, you’ll—“ you deepen your tone, glaring at him venomously. “KICK THEIR ASS!”

“Pft.”

Three knocks rattle against the front door before you and your brother can get into a back and forth mockery of each other, shoving him aside as you yell out that you got it. “Go away!” You add quickly, shooing him to exit the living room area.

“Whatever.” Mark murmurs, flipping you off on his way out.

Taking a deep breath you open the door to greet Jaemin and Jeno, both standing side by side nervously, scratching their necks and shifting from foot to foot. “Hey!”

“H-hey..” Jeno speaks up first, clearing his throat and nodding at you as he steps in.

“Mark’s in the kitchen, I think.” You say, motioning to the 6-pack of Diet Coke tucked under his arm.

“Oh, yeah..” Jeno shifts back on his heels nervously, eyeing Jaemin who makes no effort to move. “I’ll go put this in the fridge real quick.”

His gaze passes between the two of your wearily, wishing that Jaemin had been the one carrying the drinks now. “Be right back.” He says, skillfully darting his eyes to the younger's face in silent warning before you notice.

“Hey pup, come here,” Jaemin draws you back from following after the other Alpha, pointed teeth on display with a large smile. “You feeling okay today? After everything..”

“I’m fine Jaem.” You force a smile, straightening up at the trickle of sweat rolling down your back the more you fail to create space between your bodies.

“You don’t seem fine.” He steps closer, reaching to push loose strands of hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry if—“

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, if anything you guys saved me.. pollen, it’s—“

“You saved us too.” Jaemin corrects, adding a small smile. “Not really the circumstance I ever imagined we’d do something like that, but, I wanted to let you know..”

Taking a step back he sighs, scratching down the center of his throat nervously. “I really—“

“Hey, Jaem, can I get a minute?” Jeno returns, jogging over seemingly short of breath as he pats the younger Alphas arm and nods toward the hallway. “Could you go help Mark start to unbox everything? We’ll be there in a bit, I just need to talk to her in private first.”

“Uhm..“ Jaemin’s eyes go wide, lips tightened into a thin line nearly disappearing as he silently fumes and wills the urge to shout away. “I was about to—“

“Great, thanks.” Jeno nods, smiling and striking down heavy pats on his shoulders before proceeding to direct him out of the room. “We’ll be in soon.”

Jaemin sports a hard smile, teeth gritted together as he waves and nods. “Sure.”

Jeno’s palms clasps together, motioning for the two of you to sit once alone. “I really wanted to apologize.”

“Jeno, it’s fine, seriously.” You start, waving off cooly. “Like I was telling Jaemin, everything that happened was out of our control, you know?”

“Not about that.” Jeno reaches into his pocket, drawing free a thin squared box draped with black velvet. “Everything that happened feels like such a blur..”

Leaning in closer he clicks the box open, a beaming crystal Evenstar pendant identical to the one missing from your neck shines, the Alphas fingers lifting the silver chain attached to show you. “I broke your necklace..”

“You did?!” Letting out a surprised gasp you reach to grab the chain from him, only for the Alpha to move away and shake his head.

“Let me.” Jeno shifts to sit behind you, gathering your hair to one side to expose your neck, breath caught upon seeing the light marks his teeth left behind. “I really am sorry about that.”

“The necklace? It’s okay, I’m sure it wasn’t on purpose.”

Jeno hums, pulling the chain around to lock in at your nape. “Yeah..” the tips of his fingers trace over the bite marks, sighing before placing a gentle kiss. “You’ll let me make it up to you, right?”

Twisting around to get a proper look at the Alpha, your eyebrows lift confused, tilting your head to take in the hint of distress pulling his lips into a pout. “What’s wrong?”

“I feel bad about what happened in that room.” He says, gaze lowered. “Like we took advantage of you or—“

“You didn’t.” Boldly, you cup his cheeks to keep his eyes on yours, giving him a gentle smile. “It’s weird but even after that I feel nervous around you.”

“I do too.” Jeno sighs, relaxed under the warmth of your palms pressed to his cheeks. “It’s because I like you.” He blinks rapidly, swallowing as he forces his gaze to return to yours. “I like you in a way that would probably get Mark’s ass locked up for attempted murder.” He laughs to lighten his mood, sensing a bubble of worry beginning to erupt in his gut.

“Really?”

Jaemin clears his throat, entering back through the hallway that Jeno had banished him to exit from earlier. “You two done yet? Mark’s getting tired of waiting and we already opened everything up.”

Hands fall away from Jeno’s face abruptly, shooting up to stand upon spotting the other Alpha. “Oh yeah! Sorry sorry.”

The older grumbles, getting up to stay by your side and glare at his friend pointedly. “You could have started without us.”

Racing ahead, you miss the whispers passing between them, more paranoid that your brother could be suspicious of how long you’ve been alone with one of his friends.

“You really have a death wish huh?” Jaemin snickers, bumping into the older Alphas shoulder as he leans in to whisper. “Or maybe you really wanna see Mark behind bars for that attempted murder.”

The two continue to appraise each other throughout the day, mindful of every move the other makes before Mark warns them when you head to the bathroom to ‘Knock it off before I rip one of your stupid Alpha heads off and punt you into the afterlife.’

“Don’t think I’m just going to allow either of you to fuck my sister now because of this.” He says quietly before you come back in and sit down besides Jaemin, toying with your new pendant.

Jeno smiles, admiring how much you seem to enjoy the new necklace. “Oh, I thought you lost this.”

“Jeno bought me a new one.” You mumble, quickly throwing the Alpha a smile.

Jaemin reaches to hold the pendant, frowning as he steals a glance at Jeno. “Or, maybe you’re more bold than I assumed. A real rule breaker, willing to spend a lot to win..”

“What?” You ask, half paying attention out of fear of your brother’s wrath if he catches you staring at either of his friends too long.

Jeno smirks at the younger Alpha, leaning back against the couch with a cocked eyebrow. “Are you? ‘Cause if you’re not.. you better run..”

Jaemin glowers back at him, whispering quietly. “One way to find out.”

[dotster001]

What kind of parents are they?

Requested by @stygianoir

A/N: as per usual with these long ones, staff and non NRC will be a separate post that I someday make

CW:raising kids, but gn. No talk of whether birthed or adopted

3k follower masterlist

Riddle Rosehearts

1 kid

Riddle is a learn as you go kind of parent. Breaking the chain is hard. It takes generations. He knows that, so was always hesitant to ever raise kids. But with you he thinks he can speed up the process. He is a little strict, you can't win every battle, but he's much more understanding. And that's the difference between him and his mother. If he makes a mistake, or upsets your child, he takes the time to understand and grow from it.

Trey Clover

3-8 kids

He's a jovial father. He's calm but everyone can see he's just so happy to have this life. He's the kind who will quietly sit with the kids to help them with homework, boop their noses with chocolate frosting, tell the worst dad jokes ever that make them laugh so hard they pee, and tucks them in snuggly so "the monsters can't reach them". A soft man, who when he passes, the kids will always remember dad as someone who had a smile for everyone.

Cater Diamond

0-2 kids

Honestly, Cay Cay is one of the ones who if you wanted to have kids, you'd have to try hard to convince him. But for the sake of these HC's, we'll ignore the 0. In all honestly, he starts out incredibly scared and tense. He's worry he'll break the kids. But he slowly gets over it, and becomes the cool dad. The dilf at pta meetings His holiday cards are always the best, he sets up a haunted house for the neighborhood during Halloween, puts on a light show during the winter, dresses the kids in modern fashion…a lot of parents are so jealous. They wouldn't be so jealous if they knew the literal blood sweat and tears he puts into it all though. You need to tell him to calm down from time to time.

Ace Trappolla

2-5 kids

Hybrid of cool dad, and concerning dad. He'll let the kids do pretty much whatever they want, as long as they don't disrespect you. Sure you and your friends can go snowboarding, but your room better be fucking spotless, or you'll be praying to the seven for your soul. Yeah you're friends can- what the fuck do you just say about Y/N? No more friends. You're grounded. You'll have to try your darndest to get him to watch his language. Spoiler alert, he never will.

Deuce Spade

3 kids

Deuce is the kind of dad where, when people asks if he wants to raise a boy or a girl, he says boy. Not because he doesn't want a girl, he's just scared he'll fuck her up on accident with some of his behavioral tendencies. But in the end…he's a girl dad. He raises three girls, whether by birth or adoption, that's just how his luck turns out. And he's the best goddamn girl dad ever. By kid three, he only wants girls, cause how the fuck do you boy dad? Even as the girls get older, he isn't scared of some of the things that come with women. He always carries pads and pain killers. Anytime they need advice on relationships, and societal problems, they know they can go to dad.

Leona Kingscholar

1 kid

The one is a struggle for him. He doesn't want to have a second born who will go through what he did. So only one kid. That's it. He…to his surprise…turns out to be exactly the way Mufasa raises Simba. Stern when necessary, but totally down to rough house and play. He never even thought he had the energy for a kid…turns out he does. He loves his little rat more than life itself, and will do anything to prep him for life so that he can have the things Leona never did.

Ruggie Bucchi

5-8 kids

Teaches his kids early on to be light fingered. Imagine a bunch of hooligans running through the street, and when they're gone, you realize you're wallet is gone too. That's your kids. But only when you're not looking. He's raised them to understand not to snitch on dad. 😒 Otherwise no one can have fun. Other than that, he's a really soft dad. Playing with the kids, good for hugs, cooking meals that get them all their nutrients, but also provide comfort. The moment he can afford it, Ruggie is becoming your perfect little househusband.

Jack Howl

5 kids

He's the kind of dad that outsiders worry is a little cold and distant. But that's not the case. They just don't know how to read him. He has his own language that his kids perfectly understand. Left eyebrow quirked=what do you think you're doing? Right side of mouth quirked up=I'm so proud of you. Left side quirked down=that's not funny. Etc etc. The kids can always count in dad for snuggles if they are sad or have a bad dream. Even if he doesn't always remember to verbalize it, they always know they are loved.

Azul Ashengrotto

4

He's the one who has every step of his parenting and finances planned, to flawless perfection. And then immediately panics when he realizes you can't plan for everything, children are unpredictable. The first kid that breaks a bone, he's just wanting to go back to his octopus pot. Not to mention if your kids are birthed, he's not prepared for half octomer, half human, kids. He's unprepared, and very scared, but he's a loving dad…even if he seems too tense sometimes.

Jade Leech

1-3

He's the Gomez Adams, raising little Wednesdays. Female and male Wednesdays, but Wednesdays nonetheless. So excited, big smile, happy to be alive with you, and with your kids! Meanwhile the kids are all dark and brooding. It always looks so professional when you all walk up in business attire, Jade smiling, as the kids, also in business attire, have the darkest expressions on their faces. 

Floyd Leech

2-15

Rough housing dad. He raises a bunch of chaotic rascals. They're all sweet kids, but damn some of them have so much energy it scares the neighbor parents. Then they'll look over and see eel merman wrestling three of them and laughing like a mad man. He'll bandage them up, and give them kisses on their boo boos, but he won't calm down. Not that he needs to, they don't want him to calm down. Dad's fun!

Kalim al Asim

8-whenever you say to stop 😁

Party dad! He's a, "we rather you tried it at home than with strangers" kinda guy. By the time he is parenting, he's a little better at self control though, so he's willing to be that buffer, and help kid's stop before their limits. Also, he's the kind that pouts if his kids don't say, "I love you" when he drops them somewhere.

Jamil Viper

1-2

Strict dad. Old habits die hard. Or don't at all. You'll have to be self aware if he's too hard on the kids. The thing is, he has only had his freedom for so long, and his kids. The reason he's like this is because he's scared. His kids have a freedom that previous generations of Vipers never had. He doesn't want them to throw it away. He's terrified one misstep and they'll lose everything. You'll have to calm him down sometimes. But the kids, especially the older they get, will understand that this is how dad protects them. He also gives out expensive gifts if he thinks he's taken things a step too far… the kids love that.

Vil Schoenheit

1

There's no way this man doesn't raise a high achieving, future ex gifted child. So at first, he'll beam with pride as his child produces the best results, grades, magic, appearances, etc. It'll be a bit of a learning curve when the crash hits, and won't understand right away. But once he does, he becomes the biggest advocate for mental health services,and getting kids the care and enrichment they need. He does speeches, runs rallies, becomes the face of any movement that has to do with his kid. 

Rook Hunt

15

Teaches his kids to hunt like wild animals. He's the kind of dad that says, "I'm gonna take the kids out!" And later you find them in the middle of the woods, hiding in the bushes, waiting to jump you in a tickle pile that is inescapable. He's raising wild animals. And yet…somehow…the kids seem normal as they age? At least that's what you see…

Epel Felmier

5-7

Another one who raises hooligans. You have a bunch of freckled, sunburned kids, all who live outdoors and climb trees. But the kids are never alone when they are hooligans. Dad is always in the tree with them.

Idia Shroud

2

Scared shitless. He's a gentle parent, but, God, is he terrified. Everyone knows it. Anytime the kids get sick, or hurt, or sad, he's always worried it's cause he fucked up in some way. But once he calms down, he's always good at calming them down. He's gentle and understanding…once he gets out of his own head.

Malleus Draconia

1-15

He has to raise the future heir. So on the one hand, he has to be strict. But he makes it clear early on, that there's separation from work and home. Aka, sometimes he is father, king of darkness, and sometimes he is dad, server of applesauce. The kids are smart enough to know the difference, and figure out which Malleus they are talking to.

Lilia Vanrouge

3

When you and Lilia discuss raising a family together, you aren't expecting Silver to come to you with stories of how he was left in the middle of the woods for training…and if you don't say anything, you're destined to be raising kids with Lilia Vanrouge, delightful scamp, and general to Malleus Draconia's armies. If you have that conversation, you'll be raising kids with Lilia Vanerouge, delightful scamp, and nothing else. Usually. Make sure if he's giggling, and you can't find the kids anywhere, you know exactly where they are.

Silver

1-2

Quiet dad. A lot like Trey. He's soft and gentle, and the kids can count on him for snuggles, whether he's awake or not. A man of few words, but perfect for a lullaby, deep life advice, and snuggles.

Sebek Zigvolt

3-6

Soccer dad. Angrily yelling at his kids when they are subpar, and angrily yelling at other kids when they come for his kids. Fiercely loyal to the end, and to a fault, he will protect his family at all costs, even if he does grump and groan about it the whole time.

[ohmygs-blog]

an insight into a relationship w the dreamies.

౨ৎ boyfriend texts !!

cold gf showing affection.

dreamies reaction to insta pic.

“what are we?”

“do you still like me?”

dreaming about another member.

picking you up from work.

dreamies spoiling you.

telling dreamies drama.

“sex can fix that.”

“i want a baby”

“my ex just texted me..”

showering together.

seeing the barbie movie without you.

using dreamies card by accident.

dreamies asking you if they can go out.

begging you to come back into bed.

౨ৎ cute and fluffy texts !!

short and sweet messages.

first “i love yous.”

international kissing day.

anonymous complimenting you.

texts after first date.

long distance relationship.

dreamies with baby fever.

catching dreamies staring at you.

“when do i look the prettiest to you?”

cute bday messages.

shyly asking you on a date.

acts of service / cute moments.

౨ৎ angsty texts !!

ignoring dreamies after a fight.

arguing with dreamies.

thinking dreamies are losing feelings.

first texts after breaking up.

asking bff dreamies for date advice.

give bff dreamies a chance.

“you could’ve been nicer to me.”

complaining about you to friends.

౨ৎ nsfw + jealously texts !!

dirty texts i.

dirty texts ii.

dirty texts iii.

“ass or tits?”

sending dirty meme.

distracting dreamies w a dirty pic.

jealous + possessive dreamies.

jealous + whiny dreamies.

being possessive over dreamies.

faking an orgasm.

wet dream abt bff dreamies.

dreamies + ur short skirt.

drunk texting dreamies.

dressing up for the grocery store.

jealous fwb dreamies.

౨ৎ funny + prank texts !!

loading screen prank.

sending dirty meme.

calling dreamies by their name.

“she’s busy rn.”

happy anniversary to the first time we fucked.

“he just left lol come over.”

“i saw you cheating on me.”

“last night was amazing.. oops wrong person.”

flower bouquet prank.

can’t hangout this month prank.

miss being single prank.

“she’s sleeping.. tired her out ig.”

sending unhinged memes.

autocorrecting love to hate prank.

telling dreamies to unfollow someone.

“why are some of my panties missing?”

sending drake memes.

“you forgot :(“ prank.

not saying i love you back

“you could’ve been nicer to me”

failing at waxing

“you’d make the perfect ex husband”

“if we break up i’m getting back w my ex.”

dreamies pranking you.

you’re not mature enough

“happy anniversary to the first time we fucked.”

“i told you not to leave any marks on me.”

“gimme head or something pls.”

dreamies dreaming abt another girlfriend.

౨ৎ idol boyfriend texts !!

boyfriend texts. (inspired by “worldwide by big time rush)

boyfriend texts ii. (jealous over idol! gf mc partner)

exposing your relationship.

sending dreamies nct memes.

“what other dream member would i date?”

surprising members on tour.

members stopping in ur hometown during tour.

reacting to jaemin abs.

being jealous over idol! reader mc

supporting dreamies / going to concert

wearing another members clothes

౨ৎ miscellaneous messages !!

dreamies x gf! with braces.

dreamies x gf! athlete.

dreamies x gf! producer.

sexy halloween costumes w/o dreamies

cringey couple costumes

bff dreamies suggesting couple costumes

going to haunted house together

[apollostears]

𝘛𝘙𝘐𝘊𝘒 𝘖𝙍 𝙏𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙏 # ！︎

↠︎ plot + warnings: headcanons on college!jjk men with f!reader roommate and their halloween adventures. reference to sex + mention of blood + swearing

↠︎ featuring: gojo, choso, nanami, toji, geto + special guests: shiu + sukuna

↠︎ this special '*' is somewhere in the hcs and the explanation is at the end!

ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʜᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴇɴ

𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞!𝐣𝐣𝐤

☥︎ full disclosure, you live with scaredy cats.

☥︎ nanami don't play with that demonic shit in the slightest !!! ︎☥︎ he is absolutely the one to grab you and haul ass at the slightest movement. ︎☥︎ toji and geto fight instead of flight 💀 so to save some legal fees, its best to do haunted anything, without them.

☥︎ gojo cries and choso just disassociates 😭

☥︎ one thing that you guys always do for halloween is have a halloween movie marathon with the kids and girls.

☥︎ you guys always dress up in the same theme. this year, you guys were the fantastic four + the silver surfer + dr. doom

☥︎ toji was dr. doom, choso the silver surfer, nanami was mr. fantastic, you were the invisible woman.

☥︎ geto and gojo drew straws on who would be johnny storm and the other would be the thing.

☥︎ geto won

☥︎ the guys throw a halloween special at the tattoo shop. its always a huge turnout.

☥︎ one year, toji ended up having a match on halloween and it was the best time!!!!

☥︎ obvi it was costume theme so of course y'all went as WWE characters 💀

☥︎ it was supposed to be an attempt to embarrass toji but he came out lookin like the undertaker during his modern phenom era.

☥︎ music playin and all!

☥︎ and then he won the match and people started calling him the reaper.

☥︎ and yes, it definitely filled his already big ass head 🙄

☥︎ one time y'all did one of those huge scare fest's andddd it was def smth 😭

☥︎ y'all know that run bts episode when they go to one and yoongi squares up with an actor?

☥︎ that was toji and geto the entire time.

☥︎ runnin and swingin

☥︎ one of toji's friends* tells him about a halloween party that another underground fighter was hosting and you guys berate him into going.

☥︎ so everyone's costumes for that one were slasher themed!

☥︎ geto was pyramid head, choso was ghostface, toji was freddy krueger, gojo was jason voorhees, nanami was michael myers, and you were tiffany the bride of chucky!!! ︎☥︎ it was a great night for the most part!

☥︎ the host had hired exotic dancers that were all dressed up in bloody outfits and hot makeup

☥︎ the decorations made the entire place look like a house of horrors tbh

☥ you ended up dancing with a guy dressed as a sexy leatherface ︎☥︎ and DAMN did that mf know how to catch some ass!

☥ well come to find out that he was the host and you guys ended up sleeping together ︎☥︎ shoutout to you for finally getting dick after being cockblocked for so long!!!

☥︎ but none of the guys were happy to see that your body of choice was none other than ryomen sukuna a.k.a toji's biggest pain in the ass!

☥︎ but hey, spooky shit happens 🤷🏾‍♀️

*he doesn't consider shiu a friend, more of a benefactor but you think they're besties

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. @kennyackermanswhore @chaoticevilbakugo @indiecursor @gabzlovesu @desiray562 @brownmochii @knjkitten @sweeneyblue1 @namjoonswifeyy @nyxeclipse @rubinocore @somerandompipzsxh @dabilovesme @histarean @hannas16 @caribbeanwifey19 @emonaculate @po3ticb3auty @waka-umm @wilsonsbuck @ctrlstar @jealousfuckingcunt @savagemickey03 @dukina @saintblk @sisnot @littlemochi @hoohoohope @ruubric @tor-tor8 @beautyfairykei @lilvampirina

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 🤍

[jo-harrington]

Team Building (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: No one does Halloween quite like the Hellfire Club, and you just so happened to have promised to join them.

Previous Part: Closing Time

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual Pining and Slow Burn, Fluffy Fluff, Trick or Treating

Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN and welcome back to the Store Manager Verse. I actually wanted to be further along with my chronological releases but it just never happened. This one is definitely probably one of the best timed releases with the holiday but there's a minor note that there's...maybe a reference to a yet-to-be published installation of the story. Eddie and SM are gonna be going on a little road trip at some point and will meet some of SM's family. DONT EVEN WORRY ABOUT IT FOR NOW. Just enjoy the shenanigans.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

"You look cute today."

"Thanks!"

"You need to look less cute next week. We're doing zombies, remember?"

"Got it."

Every day.

"Did you pick up that fake blood from Melvalds like you promised?"

"Yeah it's at home."

"Ok great because...because I was a little afraid you were gonna forget about our plans."

"Don't worry Eddie."

He reminded you every day.

"Ok so we're meeting at Gareth's at 4 on Thursday."

"Alright I'll be there."

"No, uh, glitter makeup? We're going for realism. Shock and awe."

"I swear to god!"

Every day for an entire week, whether he was scheduled to work or not, Eddie showed up at Star Court to remind you that you had promised to go Trick or Treating with him and his friends.

It was cute endearing.

October--and more specifically Halloween--was one of your favorite times of the year at work. It was laid back and fun. No pressure from either Back to School or the Holiday rush, you could "dress up" with little costume pieces or fun makeup every day, and you could have a bowl of candy at the cash wrap that made everyone's day a little bit brighter.

And outside of work, you'd really embraced the season.

Correction, Eddie made you embrace the season.

Before moving to Hawkins, Halloween had always been incredibly...commercial. Costumes and decorations from the little seasonal aisle at the drugstore. The biggest display of candy at the grocery store that you needed to stock up on unless you wanted your house egged.

And your social life consisted, mainly, of outings with your coworkers. Pumpkin patches and haunted hayrides almost always became team building activities. That wasn't to say your coworkers--new and old--weren't your friends too.

But with Eddie...it was different.

A harvest festival outside of Muncie, horror movies late at night during a thunderstorm, warm apple cider at Merrill's Farm while looking for gourds that were shaped like your heads. Pumpkin carving on the porch at the trailer, cutting out bats and cats from black construction paper, and now Trick or Treating with his friends.

You thought, early on in your friendship, that it was just some throw away comment. But knowing him as well as you did now, you realized that he really meant everything he said.

Every promise was purposeful, especially when it came to the people he cared about. Which was why you were sure he was determined to make the night perfect. Not only for you, but for everyone.

Especially the handful of little sheep that were newcomers to Hellfire.

"The freshman," he explained on Sunday as you worked on your costumes together. "They're little turds but...I dunno, they have potential."

You'd already heard about them at the beginning of the year as Eddie gushed about his new recruits; younger brothers that Eddie sort of always wished for but was thankful he didn't actually have.

"They're not gonna think I'm some like...weird old person right?" you laughed self-consciously, thinking back to Jeff's comment when you said you wouldn't buy them beer. And sure you were not that much older than Eddie, but you were sure you were ancient to a bunch of 14-year olds.

"You're the coolest person I know. And I'm the coolest person they know."

"You saw how my brother is though," you waved your hand dismissively. Jimmy's words--who would have guessed your boyfriend's not lame like you--wouldn't stop echoing in your head though.

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend.

Eddie still wasn't your boyfriend.

They must have echoed in Eddie's too because his cheeks flushed and he immediately became bashful. He ducked his head into his shoulder a little bit and refused to meet your eyes as he hacked away at the sleeves of the old flannel in his hands.

"Your brother," he finally replied, "is a little turd too. I'm sure the kids will worship you. More than they worship me. I promise. Everything will be alright."

---

Before you knew it, Thursday rolled around.

You were running late to get to the Emerson's to get ready thanks to a last minute visit from your DM. Who knew that pictures of you and your team for the company-issued costume contest would take so long?

Still, to save time, you decided not to change costumes until you got to the house. Seeing as Eddie had grand plans for everyone's face paint to make them look as close to Day of the Dead as possible, you figured you would be fine.

However, you were not expecting the entire gaggle of boys to stare at you with stars in their eyes as you stepped out of your car, duffle bag full of torn old clothes and gallon of fake blood in-hand, done up like a glam metal superstar.

Or as close to it as you could get with the accessories you carried at the store. Rainbow hair extensions and glitter spray, layers of chain jewelry, and too much cheetah print.

"You," Eddie began as he pushed through the group to get to you. His face was already a ghastly pallor thanks to a layer of facepaint from melvalds, exactly as he had envisioned. "Are a traitor and a turncoat, a disgrace to the uniform, and your status as Corroded Coffin's number one fan."

"I've literally never heard you guys play," you rolled your eyes at him.

"Did my lesson about the different types of metal mean nothing to you?" he clutched a hand over his heart and then reached out and fiddled with your jewelry. "And didn't I say no glitter."

"I just need to use the bathroom to wash it all off. Then you can make me gross and moldy like you."

"It's not mold. It's rot. Get it right." You flipped him off and he grinned. "Hey sweetheart."

"Hi."

"Nice of you to finally join us."

Eddie threw an arm around your shoulders and led you into the garage. You said hi to Jeff, Gareth, and Dave, and then he introduced you to the sheep.

Mike and Lucas and Dustin and Will.

They were all a little bashful as Eddie went down the line; it was reminiscent of when you met the others, except less fun facts and more silly tidbits meant to embarrass the kids.

Will the Wise whose worst stat was intelligence. Dustin who had a girlfriend in Utah--

"She's real, I swear."

--Mike who had already gone through two new characters because he couldn't roll to save his life. Literally. And Lucas who liked sports.

"Oh my god," you scoffed at Eddie. “You make it sound like sports are a scourge."

"They are."

"You like hockey."

"I," Eddie paused. "Tolerate hockey."

You grinned triumphantly and said hello to each of the boys before ducking into the house to get changed.

"Dude, she is way out of your league." you could hear Mike whine, followed by a dull thud of a fist hitting an arm.

"That's what we've been telling him the whole time," Dave cackled.

---

Eddie and Will were the masterminds behind the zombification process--bickering back and forth about what scar went where and how gross that pus should look as they applied facepaint--but all the boys tossed in their creative input.

"Oh my god, do you still have that rubber eyeball from lunch? We can glue it to Jeff's hand."

"What if--don't touch my hair--what if we--don't touch my hair."

"More blood! More! MORE!"

Before you knew it, two hours had passed, it was dark out and gaggles of Trick-or-Treaters were already filling the streets. Gareth's mom had set herself up on the porch with a bowl full of fun-sized candy and wished you all farewell as you took off down the sidewalk.

A veritable hoard of the undead, with ripped clothes, foaming mouths, blood-soaked hands, and pillowcases to double as treat bags.

To your surprise, there was a lot more to Trick or Treating than you had initially thought. All your childhood, you'd just gone door to door for a few blocks, rang a bell, got some candy, and at the end of the night traded treats with your brothers or your friends.

To Hellfire, it was just as involved as any of their DnD campaigns. And it's how you learned more about each of the boys, and surprisingly, more about their fearless leader.

Lucas and Mike were the perfect strategists and, as you began your trek, listed off neighborhoods that gave the best candy. You got the in-depth analysis between full-size and fun-size candies, chocolate versus peanut butter versus nougat, and you made a mental note to be more mindful of the choices you put out at the cash wrap for next year.

Dustin and Eddie were the navigators mentally mapping the distances between each neighborhood and how quickly and efficiently the group could get around.

"We should have just taken the van," Eddie scoffed when Dustin suggested Loch Nora first, the furthest trek of the night.

"No, then we'll end up back at Gareth's by 10. We just need to walk fast, it'll be perfect."

"And my mom is making a casserole for dinner," Gareth piped up. "She said you're all welcome to stay."

"Why don't we end at my place," Mike suggested. "We can just hang out in the basement and my mom will order pizza."

"No one wants to sleep in your dusty ass basement Wheeler," Dave scoffed.

"We're definitely skipping school tomorrow," Eddie pointed at all of the kids. "I hope you all know that."

Dave and Jeff, much to your surprise, were the "war generals" as they so graciously called themselves. They had a few rolls of toilet paper and a carton of eggs tucked away in their pillowcases, in case they came across--

"The enemies!!!" The older boys hollered into the starry night sky, quickly earning glares from other kids and parents as they passed.

"And who would that be?" you asked. The entire group looked at you like you'd grown a second head. "I'm sorry I'm not well-versed in Halloween mischief."

"Oh it's gonna be fun corrupting you." Eddie laughed wickedly, and started ticking off examples on his fingers. "People who tell us we're too old to trick or treat."

"I thought you said no one cared!" you exclaimed.

"Most people," he clarified, "don't care. But someone called the cops on us. What was it? Last year? Year before?" He looked at the older boys for confirmation.

"Mrs. Peterson who likes to sic her dogs on the kids who get too close to her rose bushes," Lucas offered next.

"If someone has their porch light on, but doesn't answer the door."

"When someone gives raisins instead of candy," Will supplied, ignoring Dustin's quiet, I like raisins.

The list went on: people who made fun of their costumes, the one house where the guy sat on his porch and douse kids with "holy water" for engaging in devilry.

"And Jason Carver," Eddie finished with a flourish.

They all looked at you for some kind of objection...or maybe your approval? You weren't too sure.

But at your soft nod, they all whooped and hollered and a few of the younger boys even took off running so they could jump and scare some of the kids who were just minding their own business.

"See?" Eddie asked and grabbed your hand in his as you followed at the back of the group. "And you were afraid they were gonna think you were some gross old lady. They're trying to impress you."

"Impress is a stretch."

"Ah ah ah," he shook his head. "I will hear none of it. I told them all that they were to be on their best worst behavior. Make sure you have the best time. That they are mere peasants here to serve the Queen of the Undead."

You let his hand go and pushed him away from you, even though your heart beat a little faster knowing he wanted them to behave around you.

"Go before I gnaw on your brains."

"You promise?" he waggled his eyebrows at you suggestively.

"Go!"

---

It was an eventful night.

You moaned and groaned and shuffled your way across Hawkins, just like the zombies in Romero's movies, to get all sorts of sweet treats. Candy and popcorn and fresh-dipped caramel apples that someone was making in their yard in Loch Nora.

The group successfully TP'd one house, and you'd even personally egged someone's front door after they called the gang delinquents. You were not athletic in the slightest, but you hit your target dead on, and basked in the boy's gleeful war cries.

You were grateful for Eddie's suggestion of sneakers because you'd walked more in those 4 hours than you had during any Black Friday or Christmas Eve double shift in your entire career. You were sure even a day at Disneyland couldn't hold a candle to the Hellfire Club Whistle Stop Walking Candy Tour of Hawkins.

The boys all took to calling you mom pretty early in the night after you stopped Jeff from chomping into a handful of starbursts.

"Your braces," you reminded him, motioning to your teeth. "You're gonna snap a wire; you hate the orthodontist."

He groaned and all of the boys started snickering. Eddie, of course, was quick to shame him.

"Listen to your mother!"

And the nickname just stuck.

Of course Mike--who you noticed tried to emulate Eddie most out of the group of freshman--had a retort.

"If she's mom," he said smugly. "Does that mean you're dad?"

The boys all started making kissy faces and you had to laugh as Eddie got a little flustered.

After watching him flounder for a comeback, you decided to help him out, so you crossed the distance and pressed a quick peck to his cheek before you turned and shook your finger at the boys in a disappointed way.

"Next person to sass your father," you started. "And you're all grounded." They all looked a mixture of confused and worried for a second.

"What does that mean?" Lucas asked nervously.

"It means you start the next session with half of your hit points," Eddie finally recovered, voice growling in a threat. The boys all clammed up and turned to head to the next house.

"Sorry about them," he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Nah, it's ok," you smiled reassuringly. "They meant well. Still...til death do us part, I guess."

You both froze and you started panicking.

Why had you said that?

Still, Eddie was able to make it all better. He shuffled his feet and cracked a smile, then gestured to your costumes.

"Or uh...undeath. Considering."

Still, you had butterflies in your stomach every time one of the boys called you mom and dad for the rest of the night.

---

By the time 10 rolled around, you were back at the Emerson's house. Gareth's mom greeted you all excitedly with sodas and plates of hot buffalo chicken casserole with crispy tater tots on top, and you all sat in the garage to eat and divvy up your haul.

"So," Eddie slumped on the sofa next to you at some point after dinner was finished. You were tiredly watching Lucas and Dave argue the merits of Three Musketeers versus Milky Way and glad for the distraction. "Did you have fun?"

"Of course."

"Enough to do it again next year?"

"Is this your way of telling me you guys trick or treat every year?" you joked. "Because I kind of picked up on those hints all night."

"More like...I don't know," he sniffed awkwardly. "You still planning to be my friend next year?"

"Stop asking me that," you hit the back of your hand against his chest. "If I got to see you be a big dork with your gaggle of kindergarteners--"

"Hey!" came Will and Mike's whine from a few feet away.

"--and I'm still here, nothing's gonna scare me away Eddie."

He grabbed your hand to stop you from hitting him again, but stayed silent for a moment, eyes darting back and forth between yours as his tongue worried his lip.

You got nervous the longer he hesitated to say something, and once he did, you had the sneaking suspicion it wasn't exactly what he'd really wanted to say in the first place.

You hoped it wasn't what he wanted to say. Hoped it was just something he couldn't say in front of his friends.

"Then you don't mind if we do Alien next year. And before you say anything, I think I would make a great Ripley. I already have the hair for it and I'm pretty sure I have that same underwear."

"Sure Eddie," you agreed a little stiffly. "Sounds perfect."

He smiled, but it didn't quite meet his eyes.

Still, the two of you stayed huddled together on that couch for the rest of the night, surrounded by friends.

Hands held comfortably together.

Next Part: Promotion

[kpopfanfictrash]

The Horrible Un-Haunting of Elliot House

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Ghost!AU / Romance / Comedy (?)

Pairing: Seokjin / Reader (she/her)

Synopsis: Some houses are harder to sell than others but you, Y/N, are determined to find the (supposedly) haunted Elliot House a new owner. That is, until it's very real and very hot exceedingly well-dressed ghost decides to make himself known. If only you didn't find yourself enjoying the knowing.

Rating: PG-13 (kissing but nothing beyond that)

Word Count: 6,214

Author's Note: hope you enjoy this random Halloween "drabble"! This got oddly angsty? I suppose that happens with ghost love LOL

[ Cross-Posted to Wattpad ]

“Through here,” you say, leading the Gundersons through an arched door. “You’ll find the most adorable sunroom.”

The Gundersons both gasp, appropriately awed by the tall walls of windows. Each panel is topped with stained glass, casting colorful patterns across the checkered floor. Technically, the sunroom isn’t part of the original house – it was added in 1975 during a brief period the address was owned by a cult – but you rarely disclose this fact during tours. Most people don’t care which parts of the house are original, so long as they can say they bought a 19th century Tudor.

Not that you blame them. Most people (or at least, sane people) appreciate the romanticism of an old structure without actually wanting to live in one. Modern amenities are the top benefit of progress, after all. The government couldn’t pay you to live without modern heating, plumbing, or refrigeration.

“Margaret, did you see?” Arthur Gunderson, a slightly rotund lawyer, and husband of said Margaret, gestures emphatically. “I’ll be damned if this stained glass isn’t Tiffany! See there, see that stamp in the corner?”

“Good eye, sir!” you chirp, barely glancing up from your clipboard.

Truthfully, you aren’t sure whether the glass is authentic. The cult that installed could hardly be called profitable (they sold the house at a loss after less than ten years, although this likely had more to do with crimes committed on said property than their income, but you digress), so you’d be hard-pressed to believe they could afford real Tiffany.

If this is what convinces the Gundersons to buy though, you’re hardly a realtor to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Ticking a box in the upper right corner – sunroom – you look up. “Right, well. That’s most of the lower level.” Pivoting on your heel, you head towards the corridor. “If you two will follow me upstairs, we can –”

“What’s that?”

Steps slowing, you stare at the plaster wall. A moment passes, then two before you convince yourself to turn around. When you see where Arthur Gunderson points, a relieved breath leaves your lips.

“Oh, that?” Floorboards squeak as you cross the room, sounding almost like laughter. “That’s the cellar. I’d offer you a look but unfortunately, the staircase isn’t quite up to code. You’ll need someone to look at that ASAP if you buy.”

Hovering at the wooden door, you grasp its bronze knob and pull. Tugging the cord for the light, you briefly scan the stairs but spot nothing unusual. Mostly convinced, you dutifully step aside.

“Feel free to look,” you say brightly.

The Gundersons crowd the landing you vacated.

“Careful, honey,” Arthur warns, holding Margaret’s elbow. “These stairs are steep.”

Standing on tiptoe, Margaret peers beyond him into the basement gloom. It could be your imagination, but she almost seems disappointed. A few cobwebs and shadows line the staircase, but nothing more sinister.

Hiding a smile, you check the next box. Cellar. Sometimes, people request to see this house not because they’re interested in buying it, but for the thrill. Entering the haunted Elliot house and surviving will make a great tale to tell their friends over cocktails.

Lowering your clipboard, you glance upward. So far, everything has gone to plan, which is partly the problem. You must’ve shown this house thirty times and always, something has gone wrong by now. Before being assigned its realtor, you believed in the paranormal, but only in a theoretical way. Not because you’d witnessed anything spectral.

Your opinions since then have changed.

Turning sharply, you plaster a smile on your face. “Shall we?”

Stepping back, Margaret pulls wiry frames from her jacket pocket. “I must admit,” she says with an embarrassed laugh. “Based on what our last realtor said, I was expecting far worse from this property.”

Although your smile tightens, you nod. The other realtor had a point – Elliot house could be temperamental, at best. Downright petulant, at worst. You glare again at the ceiling.

“We get that a lot,” you say, ushering them down the hall. Best not to linger. “Whenever a house sits too long on the market, you know – people talk. Lots of rumors!”

“Oh, sure,” Arthur says, passing you with a chuckle. “We’re not superstitious, don’t worry.”

“Oh?” you say lightly, remaining behind. “That’s good to know. Now, if you head down the hall, you’ll reach the foyer. All the crown molding you pass is original. The house’s first owner and builder, Daniel Baker, was something of a craftsman. He –”

Abruptly, you cease talking and stare at the stairwell. Halfway down the steps, where before there was nothing, sits a perfectly ripe orange. Eyes narrowed, you stare at this a long beat before yanking the light cord down and shutting the door.

Glancing upward, you hiss, “Not today, I swear to – well, whatever hellish being you worship.”

The wind sounds almost like laughter, but you don’t stick around long enough to find out if that’s true. Shaking your head, you traipse down the front hall in search of the Gundersons. Luckily, they’re too busy taking pictures of the aforementioned crown molding to have noticed your absence.

“Shall we?” you say, gesturing at the front stairs.

Pocketing their phones, they begin their ascent. You wait at the bottom, giving them space to discuss the house. From personal experience, buyers tend to appreciate when you don’t hover.

Besides, the grand staircase is your favorite feature – equal parts artwork and functionality. From your place at its bottom, you admire the craftsmanship. Starting the climb, your fingertips skim whorls in the wood and for a second, you feel a phantom hand rest over yours.

Scowling darkly, you yank your palm away. Reaching the landing, you clutch at your clipboard tighter and walk forward.

“This way!” you say, practically shoving the Gundersons into the first bedroom.

While they ooh and ah about the bay windows, you tick another box on your spreadsheet. Master bedroom.

The second you’re done, the pen slips from your grasp and hovers in mid-air. It then turns, point-down, to scrawl something in the margin.

‘Master’ bedroom? Kiiind of racist, don’t you think?

Teeth gritted, you snatch your pen back. “I wasn’t the one who created the spreadsheet, okay?” you whisper. “And while, yes, I agree, and other realtors are moving away from that language, I don’t–”

“Pardon?” Arthur Gunderson peers, confused, over his shoulder.

Somewhat manic, you smile. “Oh, nothing,” you say, the words sounding high-pitched, even to you. “I was just reminding myself to show you the main bathroom. Beautiful claw-foot tub.”

“Oh. Sure,” says Arthur, returning to his wife.

Head whipping sideways, you glare at the most likely place Seokjin would be. A chuckle drifts past your ear on the other side, and your scowl deepens.

Once an appropriate amount of time goes by, you usher the Gundersons into the next bedroom. Hovering outside, you calculate how quickly you can convince them to leave. The longer they stay, the worse the so-called haunting will be.

You should have known better than to show them this house, but they were insistent. Or at least, Arthur was. Margaret seems reasonably paranoid, which you deem a positive quality. Everyone within a hundred-mile radius has heard of the haunted Elliot house.

Even the name is confusing, since it doesn’t bear the name of its builder, Daniel Baker, nor its longest resident, Mr. Josiah Whitley. Instead, it’s named for Nathaniel Elliot, the cult leader who murdered a man on its premises in 1978. Obviously, this fact wasn’t known to the public until after the cult sold the house and moved far away.

Eventually, Mr. Elliot was tried and found guilty of murder, but this was much later. Wincing a little, you glance at the ceiling. Seokjin has said many times that ghosts can’t read minds, but you wouldn’t put it past him to lie for a punchline. Even if he can’t read your mind, the faint scent of cedar lets you know he’s nearby.

Quickening your stride, you show the Gundersons the next bedroom. “This is one of my favorites,” you say, pulling hard on its warped door. “The view from that window is stunning. You can see all the way to the brook!”

Taking the bait, Margaret crosses the room. “Oh, look, Arthur!” she exclaims, leaning forward. “There’s a gazebo!”

He follows at a more leisurely pace, frowning when he spots a lone cobweb in the corner. Sighing, you swipe at this as you pass, almost certain the web wasn’t there this morning.

While the two converse, you pull out your clipboard and run down the list again.

Most days at your job are like today – running down lists and waiting for other people to make their own life decisions. Becoming a realtor wasn’t so much a choice as it was thrust upon you. When your mom got sick your senior year of grad school, you returned to take care of her and finished your coursework remotely.

There were only so many jobs with flexible hours, and you ended up getting your realtor’s license to support her on the side. When your mom passed, you stuck around to sort out her paperwork and affairs. Two years later, everything is in order and still, you remain. Stuck in a holding pattern, showing houses and too afraid to try your hand at anything different.

BANG.

The sudden noise from above plunges the room into silence. Both Arthur and Margaret swivel, wide eyes landing on you.

Margaret’s glasses chain trembles. “What was tha–”

“My assistant,” you blurt, backing towards the door. “He mentioned he would stop by to drop off some keys. That must be him – I’ll go and check!”

“But…” Arthur stares. “The noise came from above.”

“Be right back!” you call, stepping into the hall.

As fast as possible without raising suspicion, you rush down the hall. “Seokjin,” you hiss, hand skimming the banister as you descend. “Stop that right now!”

No one responds – not that you thought he would. Crossing the foyer, you reach the cellar door and yank it open. Flicking the overhead light, you see the orange has disappeared. Rolling your eyes, you shut the door.

“This isn’t funny,” you huff out loud to no one.

Far above you, a low groan shakes the house. Honestly, it sounds more sexual than scary, but you suppose that only makes it more sinister. Reaching the foyer, you slow your pace and set down your clipboard. Suppressing a sigh, you glance at the clock. This has happened enough times that you can predict things to the minute.

Crossing your arms, you tap your foot and count down in your head.

One – increased groaning. Sometimes from the cellar, often the attic and, during one memorable visit, from behind a locked bathroom door.

Two – shuffling feet while the Gundersons (insert buyer’s name here) debate whether to run or wait it out. They hastily whisper, wondering if it’s their minds playing tricks.

Third – laughter. Seokjin will say it sounds lilting but to you, his laughter is more akin to a car’s windshield wipers. Today, said laughter drifts from the main bedroom, immediately followed by the Gundersons’ screaming.

Directly above you, Margaret’s heels pound wooden floors. Wincing, you make a mental reminder to buff the scuffs from the wood.

“ARTHUR!” she calls, her voice pitching upward.

“Right behind you!” he bellows.

When the lights in the foyer flicker, you lean against the grand railing. In your experience, there’s nothing you can do now to save the showing. As soon as Seokjin reveals himself, it’s only a matter of time.

“Whoooo dareeessss to disturrrrrb meeeee!” he wails, and you try not to laugh. “This is MYYYY homeeee and you are nooooot welcomeeeee! OoOOOOooooOOo!”

Arthur is first down the stairs. Reluctantly, you step forward – as their realtor, you’ll try to calm them down and get them out. All part of the plan. What’s not part of the plan is Arthur’s blind panic, elbowing you – hard – in the stomach as he runs past.

Concaving, you stumble, your foot catching on a loose floorboard as you fall backwards. Suddenly, a pink cushion slides between you and the floor. You land in the middle of it, shocked but unharmed.

Arthur yanks open the front door. “You!” he blurts, whipping around to point. Blinking, you fight the urge to glance over your shoulder. “Yes, you,” he scoffs, spittle flying as Margaret runs past. “I don’t know if this is your idea of a sick joke or what, but your manager will be hearing from me!”

Before you can formulate a response, Arthur is out the front door. You hear the sound of their car starting, exhaust billowing behind them as they speed down the street.

Propping yourself on one elbow, you release a sigh. The house has fallen silent, almost sheepish in its total lack of sound. Head lolling back, you glare at the ceiling.

“You are so annoying,” you groan, well-aware you sound crazy. “I honestly don’t know what you’re looking for, Seokjin. The Gundersons were fine.”

The front door slams.

An outline of a person materializes between you and the living room, seeming composed of dust motes and sunshine. Turning your glare in their direction, you tap your fingers against the oak floor.

Seokjin solidifies fully, rakishly leaning against the paneled wall. He’s dressed in the same navy three-piece suit he wore when he died, albeit with his hair styled in this century’s fashion. Seokjin once said ghosts are able to change their appearance, but most choose not to. There’s little point to it, and it wastes precious energy.

Sadly, he shakes his head. “See, that’s where you’re wrong,” Seokjin says, his deep timbre resonating through floorboards beneath you.

“Show off,” you mutter.

Lips twitching, he crooks a finger. The foyer light ceases to flicker, and Seokjin straightens. Dusting invisible dust from his shoulders, he walks forward.

“The Gundersons were tiresome,” he says. “I would’ve been bored of them in months, started haunting again, and this house would’ve gone right back on the market. Really, I saved you trouble in the long run. You can thank me later.”

“Oh, no,” you deadpan. “Two commissions on the same property. What a horrible fate.”

“Exactly. You’re welcome.”

Fighting an eye roll, you push yourself upward with cushion in hand. At least Seokjin was kind enough to break your fall, even if he caused the circumstances which led to it in the first place.

Brushing the dirt from the cushion, you shake your head. “You do know that eventually, someone will buy this house and you’ll have to make peace with that fact. Right?”

When Seokjin doesn’t immediately respond, you look up. His dark gaze lingers a second longer than necessary, briskly looking away when he catches you watching.

“I know,” Seokjin says, turning around. “Might I point out though, that I don’t have to make peace with anything. Ghost,” he adds, pointing at himself. “Not making peace with things is our bread and butter.”

“People have owned this house before, though.”

“Boring people,” Seokjin mutters.

“That didn’t seem to bother you back then!”

Seokjin enters the living room. “Ugh,” he groans, dropping onto a chaise. Dust motes spiral around him, as though he were solid. “If I must be trapped on the material plane, Y/N, the least the material plane could do is provide some entertainment. And the lovemaking of two seventy-year-olds doesn’t count,” he adds, fixing you with a glare.

Stifling laughter, you follow him into the parlor. Fluffing the cushion, you replace it on its chair and survey the room. Seokjin lounges dramatically and it could be your imagination, but he almost looks solid. More so than the first time you met, anyways.

He nearly scared the shit out of you, back then. Everyone at the firm warned you this house was haunted but were purposefully vague on the supernatural. The warnings they gave you were borderline mundane.

Oh, yeah, that house has been on the market forever. People say that it’s haunted, but I’d honestly be more worried about rats. Or asbestos – popcorn ceilings didn’t age well for a reason. And I don’t know if it’s true, but I heard a convict once lived in the basement for three months before the cops caught him. Watch out for that!

You entered this house with more than your usual trepidation, pepper spray in one hand and a flashlight in the other. Apparently, the wiring wasn’t all up to code – something you’ve since rectified with the city.

The sound of the door creak could’ve been written by the Brothers Grimm themselves, textbook gothic. Your flashlight swept over dusty floors, faint footprints remaining to remind you of its past. Spine steeled, you forced yourself to continue.

Finding a light switch, you flicked upward, and the chandelier came to life. The lighting was dim, barely enough to see by on a rainy day. Keeping your flashlight, you wandered into the parlor and came to a sudden stop. Forest green wallpaper lined the walls, remarkably intact for its age. Stunned, you turned in a slow circle.

Moody maximalism was one of your favorite design styles, and this room was made for it. With a slightly better attitude, you resumed your walk-through, discovering a hidden cupboard in the kitchen and a dumbwaiter to nowhere. The second-floor entry point had been boarded up, but that could be rectified.

Some of the woodwork of the house was scuffed, and a few corners held fallen leaves, but overall, it was in great condition. None of the realtors had prepared you for that – you arrived expecting a war zone and were pleasantly surprised.

On the second floor, you found a library – or what had once been the library, given the shelving was empty – that made you audibly gasp. Blue-black custom shelves extended along three of the walls. Closer to the door, a bright square of color remained from where a painting had hung.

Curious, your fingers traced the edges. “This place is unreal,” you murmured to yourself.

“I know, right?” said a voice directly in your ear.

Like any sane person, you screamed and jumped skyward. Your flashlight fell, its beam rolling over and over until it hit a baseboard. You didn’t stick around to find out, turning fast on your heel and bolting into the hall.

Thundering down the front stairs – wincing as the wood groaned – you nearly reached the foyer when Seokjin appeared.

“Boo,” he said calmly, between you and the door.

Coming to a shuddering halt, your hand gripped the railing. The ghost was impeccably dressed, if slightly invisible, and raised a dark brow in response to your flight.

Gaze darting sideways, you sought a second exit but all you could recall was the cellar and that wasn’t an option. Years of training from watching scary movies kicked in at that point, and you slowly straightened. Running away would do nothing – a ghost could follow you anywhere – so, maybe reasoning with him would be the best option.

“What do you want?” you asked, masking your fear to plant both hands on your hips. “Who are you?”

Surprise flared in his – admittedly attractive – gaze. Some of the shock had worn off by then, and you could admit to yourself (if to no one else) that the ghost before you was hot. Even thinking this felt ridiculous, and you wondered if your already-fragile grasp on reality was slipping.

Taking a single step forward, the ghost cocked his head. When you stumbled back, his lip quirked, and he appeared by your side.

“Who am I?” he mused, walking in a slow circle. “Awfully strange to ask me that, when I’m the person that died here, and you’ve never stepped foot in this house until now. I would know.”

Started, you turned your head.

This was a mistake since it allowed you to see every ridge of his features. The rounded tip of his nose, his enviably full lips, and a curve to his jawline which could likely cut glass.

Forcing your gaze upward, you found him focused on you. “You… died here?” you asked before you could think better.

His lips thinned. “You know, it’s very rude to ask a ghost how they died. It’s personal.”

“Oh,” you said. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t ask,” the ghost replied with a sigh.

Your eyes narrowed, hearing barely hidden laughter in his tone. This ghost was making fun of you. The audacity!

Incensed by this, you lifted your chin. “Wouldn’t asking you whether it’s polite to ask about death be asking you about death, though?”

“Fair enough.” He shrugged, slipping both hands in his pockets. “There really isn’t a good way for you to bring up that conversation.”

A laugh escaped, despite yourself.

His gaze flickered, as though oddly pleased. Quickly, the ghost scanned you from your shoes to your face, where he lingered.

“I’m curious,” he mused, resuming his walk in a circle.

Despite your discomfort, you forced yourself to stay still. Even though you could feel each place his gaze lingered – your shoulders, your collarbone, tacing the slope of your cheekbones.

“What are you curious about?” you asked, pushing the words past your lips.

He stopped between you and the door again. Slipping both hands from his pockets, he crossed his arms over his chest. The way his biceps strained against his suit was intriguing, implying there was something to strain against. Dimly, you wondered what a ghost’s gym routine looked like.

Your lips twitched at the thought, and the ghost scowled.

“Stop that,” he commanded. “You should be terrified. I was curious about why you haven’t run yet. Anyone else would’ve by now.”

“Would they?”

“Based on my experience, yes.” He tilted his head. “This is the first time I’ve introduced myself to someone and they stayed. Well,” he amended through teeth. “Stayed without crucifixes, holy water, and a priest.”

“Does that really work?” you wondered, genuinely curious.

“Does what work – exorcism?”

You nodded.

“Clearly not.” He waved a hand down his body. “At least, not in my case. When I first died, I wanted to move on. I was even excited when the first priest arrived, but he did nothing, and neither did the next one… eventually, I stopped hoping. Started haunting, instead.”

“Well, sure,” you said, dazed.

His lips twitched. “My name is Seokjin, by the way. Not that you asked.”

“That was literally one of the first things I asked!”

Ignoring this, Seokjin stuck out his hand. “And you are?”

“Y/N,” you said, ignoring the impossibility of what you were about to attempt while extending your palm. “Nice to meet you.”

Your hands met in the middle and, instead of passing through, you felt your palms brush. For a moment, you touched calluses and warm skin, smelling the faint scent of cloves.

Seokjin went utterly still.

Chin jerking down, he stared at your joined hands. “That’s… never happened before.”

Retracting swiftly, you said the first thought that came to mind. “What? Never touched a woman?”

Scowling, he retracted his hand as well. “I was thirty when I died, Y/N. Not thirteen.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered, then paused. “You… haven’t been able to touch anyone since you died?”

“Things, yes. People, no.” A thoughtful look crossed his face. “A psychic visited me once. The owners at that time brought her, wanting to see if she could get rid of me.” Seokjin snorted. “She got them to pay her, then said, ‘No.’ Hilarious. And interesting,” he added. “She told me she’d met other ghosts, ones that could interact. Never seemed to work for me, though.”

You blinked, unsure how to respond. For it being your first encounter with the supernatural, nothing about this had gone as imagined. You weren’t sure how to converse with a ghost who, for all intents and purposes, seemed fairly normal.

Except for the whole ‘being dead’ part.

“Well.” You shrugged. “There’s a first time for everything, I guess.”

His expression remained inscrutable, but for the faintest of seconds, you thought Seokjin looked intrigued. After a moment, he moved closer and leaned in. You caught the faintest whiff of orange, cloves, and cedar on what could have been his breath.

“I suppose there is,” he murmured, and then disappeared.

Since then, Seokjin has appeared each time you returned. The second time, you were halfway convinced your first visit was a hallucination. A theory Seokjin seemed content to feed into, refusing to show himself until you were about to leave. Then, he jumped through the hall closet to yell, “MUTINY!” and cement his presence in your mind.

Seokjin doesn’t dress the same every time. A few weeks into your friendship (if one can call it that), he informed you he could change his appearance but hadn’t done it much. It took energy to appear on the mortal pane, more so if his appearance was altered.

Still, you’ve learned Seokjin will do pretty much anything to commit to a bit. His brand of haunting tends to border on comical. Putting his arms on backwards, headless juggling, vomiting wine – really anything is fair game if not truly grotesque. By now, you’ve seen his whole gambit, which is how you can say today’s performance was lackluster.

Sprawled on the chaise, one foot dangling, Seokjin looks every bit of the tragic lothario. Again, you can’t help but wonder whether he’s gained permanence since the last time you saw him. You could almost swear the chaise sinks under the weight of his frame.

“What is it?” he demands, lazily pushing himself upward.

Something in your chest flutters, although you ignore it. Arms crossed, you fix him with a look of disdain. It’s sinful for Seokjin to look as good as he does – and the worst part is, you know it’s not an illusion.

After you met the third time, you Googled his name along with the house and found multiple hits. Seokjin Kim was killed on October 31st, 1978, by Nathanial Elliot, the leader of the Sunny Days cult. Both Seokjin’s parents joined two years prior, and he’d tried unsuccessfully to convince them to leave by mail and phone.

Eventually, he visited in person and convinced them to go – unfortunately, Nathanial caught wind of the situation and killed Seokjin before this could happen. You saw photos of Seokjin from then and can confirm he was always devastatingly handsome. Often, you’ve wondered if he left someone behind – a wife or a girlfriend – but can’t bring yourself to ask. You aren’t sure which answer would hurt more.

Regardless, you know Seokjin was missed. His parents were the ones who took down the Sunny Days cult, putting their leader behind bars for killing their son. Seokjin admitted once that they tried to tear this house down. They didn’t know he was tied to the grounds, and he didn’t want to tell them. It would’ve been harder for them to move on, he explained, and your heart broke a little.

Not long after that, you accidentally let it slip that Seokjin had a scent. It made him howl with laughter, nearly falling down the front stairs – not that this would’ve hurt him. From then on, Seokjin showed off his growing ability to move solid objects by leaving oranges for you in the house whenever you came. Only another of his practical jokes but lately, it’s made your skin hot to think of.

You realized you felt more than you should for him last month when he saved you from falling. Determined to clear out the cellar, your entire foot went through the first step and Seokjin pulled you to safety.

“Careful,” he murmured, one arm wrapped around your waist. Gently, he eased you backwards and onto the landing. “The top step is rotted through. You’ll need to call in someone to fix that.”

Unable to speak, you nodded and quickly disentangled. Each place he had touched, your skin tingled, and not at all unpleasantly. Since that day, your feelings have only worsened. Sometimes, you wonder if he knows.

Sometimes you wonder whether he feels the same, no matter how hopeless it is.

Heaving a great sigh, Seokjin stands from the couch. Lifting both arms, he stretches this way and that like an overgrown cat. The end of his shirt comes untucked, displaying a flat strip of skin you refuse to acknowledge.

Forcing your gaze to his face, you lift a single brow. Weeks after meeting, you considered Seokjin your friend, or at least an acquaintance. Now, you can’t call this friendship, but not because things between you have worsened. It’s because the more time you spend together, the more you find yourself wishing for something impossible. Something more.

“You know what,” you tell him. “There’s no need to scare off every potential buyer.”

Seokjin pauses, then lowers his arms. “There’s a need when they’re terrible. I’m the one forced to live with them for eternity, not you.”

“It’s not an eternity, though,” you tried to joke. “Eventually, they’ll die – or, so one would presume.”

Seokjin’s face hardens. Before you can take another breath, he’s standing before you. “Much better,” he says, his voice like steel. “I love being reminded that, while the world continues to age around me, I never will. I’ll simply stay on this godforsaken plot of land until the earth is destroyed by its own inhabitants. How long do you think that’ll take, Y/N? One decade? Two?”

Eyes wide, you stare at him in shock.

Seokjin has never spoken to you like this before. Usually, he’s far more cavalier about his reality, easily accepting the fact that he’s a ghost. Never once has he ranted about the world passing by. In fact, Seokjin frequently throws in your face that you’ll soon have more wrinkles than him.

For the first time, you wonder if all that is a front. If perhaps, deep down, all his lackadaisicalness is merely a cover for a deeper kind of fear.

Slowly, you move closer. “I didn’t mean to be dismissive,” you murmur. “Of course, I don’t want you to be forced to live with people you hate. I just meant…”

You trail off, uncertain and Seokjin’s face softens. He moves even closer, his scent comforting you in a way you can’t explain. In a way it shouldn’t be.

“I’ll never get used to this,” you sigh.

You aren’t sure why you’re speaking so softly. Possibly due to his proximity and possibly due to the look in his eyes, studying you as though you’re the impossibility, and not him. Dust motes trail through the air when Seokjin lifts a hand.

With bated breath, you watch as he reaches towards you. At the last second, he shifts and lightly brushes your jaw.

Sharply, you inhale because you feel it. You feel him.

“Seokjin,” you whisper. “What are you…”

Gently shushing, he leans in, and you feel his breath, feather-light, across your skin. Utterly shocked, you go still. It’s his breath that you feel. Breath that shouldn’t exist, according to logic.

Slowly, his gaze drops and stays on your lips. If Seokjin can’t read minds, he must hear your heart racing. The sound of it is all-consuming, drowning out rational thought.

“You want to know what I’m waiting for?” he murmurs, his gaze lifting. “I’m waiting for someone to look at this… house the way you do.”

“A lot of people have liked the house, Seokjin. People who –”

“I don’t want you to sell this house."

Startled, you stop. “Why not?”

His expression twists, revealing his vulnerability. “I think you know.”

Roughly, you exhale.

Yes. You do know. It’s the same reason you’ve half-assed the last six showings at this address. It’s why you keep people from looking, and when they insist, barely attempt to stifle Seokjin’s shenanigans. You could have come earlier today and requested Seokjin to be on good behavior. He would have done it. For you, he would have.

Which is exactly why you didn’t ask.

“I… want to hear you say it,” you say, so low, you’re surprised that he hears.

Achingly slow, Seokjin’s hand slips from your jaw to your neck. When he pulls you closer, you can feel the weight of his hand, the solid pressure that comes from his fingers on your skin.

Your eyes flutter shut.

“I don’t want you to go,” Seokjin murmurs, his lips close to your ear. “If someone else buys this house, you’d stop showing it. You wouldn’t come here again, and I can’t leave these grounds. If someone else buys this place” – his breath hitches – “I won’t see you again. I can stomach eternity, Y/N, but not without you.”

“Seokjin.” His name leaves your lips as a whisper, or prayer.

“Yes?”

“Do you ever…” Eyes opening, you look up. “I don’t want to say it out loud.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” Your voice breaks. “That might make it real. What I want can’t be real, so if I say it out loud, it might vanish and right now, it exists in this tentative space. We exist in this space.”

Lightly, his thumb strokes your throat, and you feel your knees buckle. Every callous, every touch feels so horribly real, it’s making it difficult to remember why this can’t be.

“I’ve stopped wondering what’s real and what’s not,” Seokjin murmurs, his gaze tracing your mouth. “Most people say I shouldn’t exist and yet, here I am. They say I shouldn’t be here, able to touch you like this and yet, I am. They say I shouldn’t–”

Rising on tiptoe, you cut him off with your kiss. Seokjin shudders, his lips parted and warm in the shock of the moment.

 “Fuck,” he groans, breaking away to stare at you in wonder.

Before you can respond, he returns, his kiss wild and fierce. Your own desire surges, touching him hesitantly at first, and then with full abandon. Hands sliding up his chest, over his shoulders, your fingers curl in his hair to anchor him to you.

Cupping your face, Seokjin pulls your body to his. His touch is reverent, deifying while his hands travel lower to land on your waist. His body curves above yours, catching your gasps with the tip of his tongue. Seokjin feels solid beneath you – solid, and warm, and painfully real.

His mouth moves to your jaw, trailing heat down your throat and across your bared collar. Shivers of pleasure shoot through you as he walks you backwards, pressing your spine to the wall. Briefly – wondrously – you laugh, the sound caught again by his kiss.

Within minutes, you’re panting, heart beating wildly as you grip his hair tighter. Seokjin’s leg presses forward, pushing your thighs apart and you nearly dissolve. He moves harder, faster, as though scared that you’ll vanish. This is the opposite of disappearing, though.

This is together, beneath, and on top as –

“Shit,” Seokjin growls, the sound torn from his throat.

Dazed, you look sideways and realize his hand has gone through the wall.

Seokjin stares at his wrist, his chest rising and falling. Everything you can feel is solid, but his hand sinks through the wall about an inch deep. It’s hard to concentrate with him above you, looking like that. Seokjin’s hair remains mussed by your hands, proving you touched him – however briefly.

Lips thinning, Seokjin pulls his hand out. Purposefully, he lays his palm flat on the wall but it’s clear to you both that he’s concentrating. Some of his pressure dissipates.

“I – fuck,” he exhales, dropping his chin.

Gently, you soothe a strand of hair behind his ear. This is the first time you’ve seen Seokjin anything less than immaculate and goddamn, if it doesn’t look good on him. That’s making it difficult to focus on the matter at hand.

The matter at hand. Ha.

Thinking this, a snort escapes your lips before you can stop it. Stunned, Seokjin glances up with wide eyes.

“Did you just… snort?” he asks, incredulous.

You shake your head, and then nod, sheepish. “Um, yes. I did. It’s just…” Now that you’ve started, you can’t help but continue. “I can’t believe the hottest make-out session of my life ended with your fucking hand through a wall.”

Seokjin stares for a long moment before – impossibly – his chest starts to shake. Before long, you’re both laughing out loud at the ridiculousness of the situation. Once your laughter has faded though, comfortable silence remains.

Pulling you into his chest, Seokjin’s hand strokes your neck. “I don’t know what this means,” he admits with a sigh.

“Me, either.”

“I do know I want to do that again.”

“Same,” you say, pulling back.

“But…” Seokjin hesitates. “Y/N. You know I’m not… real, right?”

Your heart sinks to your shoes. “You’re real to me.”

“I know.” He speaks softly. “But I –”

Lifting a hand, you press a finger to his lips. “Don’t,” you warn. “Please. I don’t want to think about the future right now. I know I don’t have eternity, but I don’t want what I have without you.”

Something in his gaze breaks but Seokjin merely nods, letting silence fall again. You fear that he’ll vanish, leaving you alone but he merely exhales. The breath brushes your skin.

“Alright,” Seokjin murmurs, winding his hand with yours. “What do you want to talk about, then?”

The ghost of a smile crosses your lips. “What if… we talk about me buying this house?”

© kpopfanfictrash, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission. Author’s Note: thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and Happy Halloween!

[familyvideostevie]

october thirty-first

day thirty-one: steve harrington last halloween didn’t end that well for you and steve. but this year? much better. | a no good at waiting one-shot, fluff, smut, mdni, 18+ | 2.4k detailed content warnings: fem!reader, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, thigh riding, riding, dirty talk, some aftercare-ish

“We're doing it this year, Steve.”

Your boyfriend looks unamused from behind his aviators. The sun set hours ago but he won't take them off because it “compromises his costume.”

“Jesus,” he mutters. “For real? You actually want to?” You both know Steve isn't great at saying no to you, even when it comes to going on the haunted hay ride at this year's Sara's Farm Halloween Festival. Steve only had to work the first few hours and make sure no one sustained bodily injury during the pumpkin carving contest, so now you're walking around, taking in all the fun.

You're pressed close to him — it's cold, no surprise for Indiana — and wish you had another layer on. Steve convinced you to dress in vaguely Top Gun themed clothes to honor the movie he's been obsessed with since you saw it in theaters. He's in a patched aviator jacket, jeans that hug his ass sinfully, and the stupid glasses. You've tried to look like Tom Cruise's savvy analyst girlfriend by putting on a leather jacket and red lipstick.

“We're grown ups,” you say, bumping his shoulder with yours as you approach the line for the hay ride. “We can handle it.” Robin and Eddie are working the route again and this year you're pretty sure some of the high school kids are, too. They all begged you to get Steve on it and what's love if not taking a chance every now and then to pull a fast one on your partner?

“Speak for yourself,” he mutters but allows you to tug him on to the wagon. He places his hand on your thigh automatically and does his best to look unamused but flinches when the whole thing surges forward and into the dark rows of apple trees. “I can't believe I'm doing this.”

Neither of you handle it well, truth be told. There are only a few other people on the bales in the wagon bed and you and Steve for sure scream the loudest. Your friends catch on to your presence quickly and clearly make it worse for you both, jumping out of the trees and reaching as if you pull you both to the ground. But it's fun. It's fun in the way most things that give you an adrenaline rush are — you scream and laugh in the same breath, pressing closer and closer to Steve until you're practically in his lap as the wagon rounds the final corner.

That's when you feel him hard through his pants.

“Really?” you ask. “Keep your hands to yourself, Harrington.” He scowls and tightens his grip on your hips so you don't fall when the wagon jostles side to side.

“I can't help it, honey.” You wriggle a little more and his fingertips press harder into your skin. “Stay still.”

You do not stay still. It's just too much fun to mess with him like this — something you do often in your new house. Teasing him from room to room and reveling in the thrill that he wants you. Steve always wants you.

The feeling is mutual.

When the ride finally ends you mean to tell Steve that Eddie and Robin are going to meet you so you can all hang out, but you don't get the chance. Your feet barely touch the ground after stepping off the wagon when he grabs your hand and drags you through the crowds.

“Steve,” you say incredulously. “Steve, what are you doing?” You try to keep up with his long strides so he'll hear you.

He doesn't stop until you slip around the apple bobbing and against the wall of the farm store. He crowds you against the wall, suddenly in your space, face close enough that you can count his eyelashes. His pupils are blown and his cheeks are even more flushed than they were on the hay ride.

“If you think I'm going to stand around about to cream my pants, you're insane.”

You swallow and feel his words between your legs. “Oh,” you breathe. “Okay.”

He tugs on your hand again and you're off, snaking behind the store and further into the grounds. It only takes a few more moments before you realize that he's leading you to his old loft. You laugh into the night air and Steve looks back with a boyish grin, the intensity of his gaze somewhat faded back into the comfort and ease of your relationship.

Though he doesn't live here anymore you know that Hopper hasn't gotten around to renting it out yet and Steve still has a key. “Don't trip,” he teases as he tugs you up the spiral stairs. He takes a few seconds to dig out his keys and get the right one in the lock. You want to touch him so badly you entertain jumping him on the landing but he gets the door open quickly and you stumble inside.

“Thank Christ that worked,” he mutters. The loft is empty of the things that make it Steve but the furniture is still there, including a made bed, which feels like a miracle.

“I'd fuck you in the barn,” you say. Steve wiggles his eyebrows and once again crowds you back against the door.

“Oh, yeah?” he mutters. He shoves a thigh between yours and gently tugs your head to the side so he can trail his lips up your neck. You feel his cock, somehow harder than before, and wiggle for friction. “You still know how to surprise me, bee girl.”

“Steve,” you gasp. “Don't tease.” He could quip about your actions on the hay ride, could drag it out and make you a whimpering mess here against the door by barely touching you, but he doesn't. Steve always wants you just as bad as you want him. He presses his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, cradling the back of your head as he presses you into the door.

It is not lost on you, even through your lustful haze, that this time last year you were doing the same thing. A night that changed everything, that almost broke everything had it not worked out in the end. It makes you more desperate, makes you slide your hands under his shirt to feel his skin, makes you grind harder on his thigh and swallow his moans. You almost gave this up. You almost ruined it.

Steve licks into your mouth and your tongues meet, desperate and messy and then he palms your breast, thumb swiping at your nipple and you keen.

“Bed,” you manage to say. “Bed, Steve.”

He sucks a spot on your neck for a moment more before releasing you. His hair is a mess, lips spit-slick and swollen and the way he looks at you makes your knees weak. “Come on,” he says softly. He sheds his costume as he goes, jacket and shirt and sunglasses tossed on the floor. You follow his example as he closes the curtains and shucks off his jeans.

“Are these sheets clean?” you ask, tossing your bra aside. Steve looks his fill and you let him.

“Hope so.” His eyes meet yours and for a second you're sure he's remembering last year, too. How tender it was, how he fucked you sweet and slow, how you left him.

Things get a little desperate after that.

You shed the remainder of your clothes and he sits against the headboard. You admire him like that, cock hard and already leaking, chest rising and falling as he pants though you've barely done more than kiss. You can feel how wet you are, feel the tightness in your belly just by looking at him.

“Baby,” he groans. “C'mere, please.” You crawl up the bed to him and straddle his thigh. He presses his fingers into your skin, eyes wide as you start to grind on him. You move your hips back and forth until you find a rhythm that catches your clit in a way that makes you gasp.

“Oh, god,” Steve moans. “Look at you, huh? Getting my thigh all messy, fuck.” You lean forward so he can press his face to your chest and tongue at your nipples.

Steve keeps up his filthy babble. “Barely touched you and you're so wet,” he says. “Feels good? Getting all worked up?” He pants your name over and over. “Look so pretty like this, baby, riding my thigh.”

“Wanna ride you,” you manage to say. He bounces his leg a bit and you whine. You reach down and fist his cock clumsily.

Instead of replying Steve shifts you over and lines himself up with your entrance. “You gonna be okay?” Your eyes lock. He means with the stretch, with the position. With fucking him bare. You and Steve have been doing that for a while now and you know he loves it, how he can feel every inch of you and fill you up without worry. You like it, too.

“Steve.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughs. You sink down on him and both grown in unison. The stretch comes without any pain, feels like you and Steve were made for each other, as it always does. “Holy shit,” he says, panting into your neck. “Never gonna get over this. How tight you are, how you have a perfect cunt—”

You cut him off by starting to move, a slow circle of your hips that has him choking on his words, his babble dissolving into your name and nothing else. You can feel his mushroom tip brushing the spot inside you that will have this over all too quickly, the vein along the underside of his cock that drags as you start to lift your hips. Steve does his best to help, hands firm on your thighs and meeting your movements with little thrusts of his own as he trails his lips along your chest, your clavicle, your neck.

“So beautiful,” he mutters. “So fucking good, you feel so fucking good —”

The hook in your belly pulls tighter and tighter but it's not where you need it to be. Your thighs are burning and you feel hot all over and you can hear how wet you are, hear the smack of your skin as you ride him. But it's not enough.

“I need — Steve —”

You reach down to give your clit some attention but Steve beats you to it, thumb roughly circling as you both start to move more frantically.

“I'm close,” he hisses. “I'm close, where do you want —”

“Inside,” you gasp. “Inside, please, Steve —”

He makes a noise that has your orgasm teetering on the edge, punched out and desperate. “Fuck, baby,” he says. You cling to him desperately as he shifts you, changes the position so you're on your back, legs around his hips. He fucks you hard, skin smacking, the filthy sound of your slick drowned out only be Steve's litany of your name as the hook pulls tighter and tighter.

“Let me fill you up,” he says. “Look so pretty with me dripping out of you, making a mess —”

You careen over the edge, fisting the sheets with one hand and dragging your nails down Steve's back with the other. Your eyes shut as you writhe, the waves of your climax rolling over you. You spasm around him, clenching over and over and his hips stutter and you feel him come inside you, the hot warmth coating your walls.

Your breath comes back to you as Steve flops down, still inside you, weight heavy on top of your spent body in the way he knows you like. His hand lazily trails up and down your side.

“Fuck,” he says. You laugh. The post-sex sensations set in, the gentle throb of your cunt where he's still inside you, the wetness of your inner thighs and the soreness of your muscles.

He shifts and you feel how full you are. “Made a mess,” you mutter. He presses a kiss to your temple.

“You made a mess,” he counters. “I mean, the thigh stuff?”

“Steve!” You feel shy all of a sudden.

“It was hot.” He squeezes your hip. “Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?”

He pulls out of you and the soreness stings for just a second. You feel him dripping out of you and feel hot all over again. Steve gets off the bed and heads for the bathroom. You watch him walk there, his cock shiny with you as it softens, the muscles of his legs and his back on display in the dim loft. The scars from various farming chores that you've traced hundreds of times, the skin you know every inch of. You love him. He's yours.

Steve returns from the bathroom and you try not to be self conscious about how you sit exposed on the bed. He's carrying a damp cloth.

“Spread 'em,” he says when he reaches the edge of the bed.

“Sexy,” you say, but do as he says. He snorts but gently cleans you, running the cloth along the insides of your thighs and your tender center. It's impossible not to feel a rush of affection for him as he does, this intimate act that is somewhere between sexual and not. You watch him and feel unbelievably precious in his care. He catches your eye and sees the softness, pressing his lips to your naval, your knee, but saying nothing. Sometimes you just don't need words.

“Let me pee,” you tell him when he finishes. When you return he's sprawled on the bed, boxers on. You pull on your t-shirt and nothing else and crawl up next to him, settling into his side. He drags his fingers along your back. You put your palm over his chest to feel his heartbeat.

“Better Halloween than last year,” he says lightly. The memory of that night isn't as heavy in your post-sex bliss, though it's still around. You've talked about it many times since then and it's in the past but being here reminds you a bit of the fear you felt, the frightening weight of the love you have for Steve. How it shifted your entire world.

Though you know Steve isn't serious, you sit up a little to look him in the eyes.

“I'm never leaving you,” you tell him. He looks a little surprised but recovers quickly, reaching up to cup your face and pull you down.

“I know,” he says. He kisses you gently, reverently.

“I love you,” you say against his lips. He laughs.

“I know that, too,” he says. “I love you back, bee girl.”

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

[scaraandshitposts]

okay wait I was onto smth!! maybe!!!

Halloween/Fall Hcs with genshin men!🕸

written w fem reader in mind, established relationships, modern au, light sex joke, ft scara, ajax, lyney

scara

if you're going to want to be out and about on halloween, this is not the guy for you. 100% wants to stay in the whole time

will watch scary movies/play horror games with you, he will any day honestly but- he gets such an ego boost if you hide yourself in his shirt during gorey or freaky parts of movies. he gets so happy that he feels like he can protect you

he will not, under any circumstances, hand out candy to trick or treaters. he will slam the door in a 6 year olds face lmao he thinks it's stupid and will be honest about it. if you have a young sibling, he'll come with you to take them trick or treating (and complain a lot)

he doesn't care for anything sweet, probably opting for sour candies like sweettarts or those weird hard ball things. but maybe if he's feeling generous, he'll buy you some of your favorite treats. even if he hates the sticky sweet gummies and pixie stix you adore, you can bet everything he'll stand in line for hours the day before halloween.

he thinks dressing up is stupid, but you could talk him into a basic couples costume. maybe ghostface and casey (tbh ive never watched scream movies so im going off google) he would probably do that pumpkin head trend with you, he'll feel stupid the whole time but it's worth it to make you happy.

he'd want to carve pumpkins, and he will, but carving them gets difficult for him. it takes a lot of strength to do that, but he will do his best and attempt to help you. maybe it's best to skip this and just paint pumpkins...

you can take him to starbucks for a pumpkin spice latte all you want, but he'll insist on paying and get the worst tasting black coffee every time!! it's even worse because he genuinely likes bitter coffee

overall 10/10 fall boyfie, he doesn't like all the chaos and celebrations, but does enjoy quality time with you<3

ajax

he was literally made for this. he adores autumn and winter. considering he's from shneznaya, he could wear a t-shirt any time in fall and be fine, no matter where you live.

he'll take you to all his friends parties, if your up for it. and you have to have matching costumes, any couple you can think of is a valid costume option. he will be ken. he will wear the fucking roller skating costume. a little off topic but he saw the barbie movie and loved it.

spends halloween hitting up parties and showing off your costumes and takes teucer out to trick or treat at the end of the night. it's literally so cute to see him walking with teucer, eventually carrying him home when it gets too late.

he's so sweet to kids while giving out candy. i think he's the type to have candy bars and other allergy safe options, lollipops and goldfish maybe. the neighborhood kids love his house because of how rich he is, king sized chocolate bars for all. he's such a family man and adores kids so he's made for this.

he goes mad when decorating for halloween, pushing the line between too scary for kids and too cute. somehow it always works out. I feel like he'd be good at decorations because he takes side jobs at haunted houses. he'd be really good at playing a slasher i think.

you'll go to the haunted house he's working at with a group of friends, and he'll end up sneaking up on you from behind, pressing his fake knife to your throat and whispering "boo" it nearly gives you a heart attack but it's mad funny. he definitely gets in trouble for kissing one of the customers, but it's worth it.

if you prefer a calmer way to celebrate, he'll skip most of the parties and have a nice night with you after teucer gets tired out from a sugar rush. you'll snuggle up on the couch together watch whatever scary movies you'd like, he definitely puts up a bunch of candles for the fun atmosphere.

he'll buy you literally anything halloween or fall related. you want a cute new reath for autumn? only the best one on the market for you. want some overpriced seasonal drink? you're having a large and he'll get one too! it's honestly just an excuse to spoil you at this point

he's a 9/10 in this department. would be a 10 if he didn't make jokes about skeletons and boners...

lyney

the halloween boyfriend of the century. he has so much fun with holiday stuff and dressing up makes it even better

he's a performer, he's extra, so he has to win any costume contests! lynette is sick of this nonsense by now but it warms her heart to see you having so much fun helping lyney with his autumnal nonsense.

he's not necessarily one for big halloween celebrations, opting to spend his time hanging out with you and his siblings, possibly telling scary stories. lynette is rather unphased but poor freminet is always freaked out afterwards. there's definitely more than enough marshmallows for all the smores you intend to eat while this goes on.

he'll let you snuggle up next to him around the fire pit if you get a little freaked out. he gets to entertain and be with his lover, two of his favorite things. he'll even roast a few marshmallows for you! but it's expected that you return the gesture.

he'll definitely buy all kinds of dumb halloween decorations from the closest dollar store. don't be suprised when you find plastic spiders placed around the house. he loves to decorate outside of the house, it's slightly obnoxious but you're used to it at this point.

he'll happily take you out for whatever over the top seasonal drink you want, he does this for lynette every year as well. unsurprisingly, she typically becomes the third wheel to these drink based outings. but it's worth it to see lyney fawning over you like a puppy.

as previously mentioned, he dresses up and goes hard on halloween costumes. he'll be the one begging you to match for halloween. he seriously goes hard, the time and dedication of a seasoned cosplayer goes into his costumes.

he's the type to take you to fall festivals and engage in the classic fair games, throwing darts, bobbing for apples, even silly haunted houses. you might end up dragging him into a haunted house, lyney won't get too scared... or at least that's what he says, but he holds your hand the whole time.

a solid 9/10 fall boyfriend, definitely gets into all aspects of october and fall as a whole. he gets a little too carried away and might forget about your scary movie date... but it's okay because now you, him, and both of his siblings all have matching costumes!!

shit i sorta lost motivation with lyneys uhhh it's fineee i just wanted this out for halloween lol

[7-wonders]

It's Just a Bunch of Hocus Pocus!

Summary: It's Halloweekend, and you've got a couple of parties to attend! Morpheus, who missed out on the development of Halloween into the holiday it is today, is very curious about what your plans are.

Word count: 1.8k

And now, a note from the author: Ahhh Claire actually managed to write something! I loved coming up with and writing this; I was giggling the entire time. As always, if you enjoyed, likes, comments, and reblogs (but especially the last two!) make my world go round. If you didn't like it, also let me know! I'm always down to hear constructive feedback/criticism—it's how we become better writers.

Though reader is wearing a skirt, the gender of reader is not specified! If you're non-binary or a guy and you wouldn't mind dressing up in a skirt for a group costume, I hope you enjoy this fic too!

It’s not often that Dream of the Endless visits you in your realm, instead of vice versa. While he had met you in the Waking, he had never been entirely comfortable there. That feeling, that wrongness, only increased tenfold after his imprisonment at the hands of Roderick Burgess. No, Morpheus is not overly fond of the Waking.

Tonight, however, he’s here, and you have a pretty good inkling as to why. 

Though Morpheus would never admit it, hearing you talk helps to calm him down when he’s feeling stressed (another thing he would never admit to: stress). After a frustrating day of holding court—one of his least favorite things to do, but one that was integral to the functioning of his realm—you decided that telling him about your plans for the week would be a bland enough topic where he would not have to actually listen to your words, but simply your voice. Your plan seemed to be working; you could feel his body relaxing in your arms, and you had never been more relieved to hear the absentminded hums of someone who was only half-listening to a conversation.

At some point, you mentioned that you were excited about the Halloween parties that you would be attending. That got his attention, drawing him out of the reverie that your voice and your fingers carding through his hair had lulled him into. He shifted in your hold, his black pools of stars looking up at you curiously.

“All Hallows’ Eve is not for another week though, yes?” he asked.

“Yeah, but it’s during the week this year, which means everybody celebrates the weekend before.”

“Why not celebrate on the day itself? Traditionally, Samhain is a very important holiday.”

Now the miscommunication made sense in your mind. It was only natural that he still thought of the holiday as what it was before 1916. “Oh! Halloween has evolved a lot, especially in the past hundred years. It doesn’t really resemble the Samhain of old.”

He still looks a little confused but nods. “How interesting. So you will also be participating in these…festivities early?”

“Festivities” was a good way to put it, and you decided to just leave it at that. How the hell else were you supposed to explain to your eons-old, all-powerful boyfriend that the Halloween of today is about wearing a fun/sexy costume, doing spooky activities like haunted houses or watching scary movies, and partying?

“Yep!” you said. “I have plans with friends; we’re going to wear our costumes and go celebrate with others.”

“What will your costume be?”

“I’m not quite sure yet. I have a couple of different ones, so I’ll probably decide the day of.”

That interest in modern Halloween, specifically how you celebrate Halloween, is why you’re not really all that surprised when you hear him call your name from the other side of the bathroom door while you’re taking a shower.

“In here, my love!” You just barely have to raise your voice, knowing that he’ll still hear you above the sound of water raining down. The bathroom door opens, and you stick your head out of the shower curtain. You very happily accept the kiss that he offers you. “Hi.”

“Hello.” His voice, deep and as smooth as dark chocolate, rumbles through your ears in a way that you’ll never tire of. It’s impossible to resist giving him one more kiss (can you be blamed?), so you give in to the temptation.

“Give me five minutes and then I’ll be done, okay?”

Though it’s very reluctant, he does part from you. It takes you a little less than that to finish with your shower, and you open the door again so that you can at least be in the same space as Morpheus while you hurriedly put some makeup on (thankfully your costume doesn’t require anything drastic beyond what you normally wear). He’s sitting patiently on your bed, eyes already trained on you as you move through your getting-ready routine.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “You almost never visit me in the Waking.” 

You’re teasing him, since, as previously mentioned, you know exactly why he’s here. Naturally, Morpheus doesn’t catch on. “I wished to see you off before your Hallowe’en celebration.”

“That’s sweet of you!” To the bedroom you go, where your costume sits waiting atop your dresser. “I’m just about ready to go, I only need to finish putting my costume on.” 

Morpheus’s face grows flushed at the easy compliment you give him (you don’t think he’s ever been called ‘sweet’) and you laugh quietly before disappearing back through the bathroom with costume in tow.

A couple of months ago, two of your friends decided that being the Powerpuff Girls was the move for this Halloween and roped you into the idea. One of your friends, a natural blonde, claimed Bubbles before the idea could even fully be discussed. Your other friend was very excited to be a bearded Blossom and wear a giant bow on his head. This left Buttercup for you to dress up as, not that you were complaining.

Now, you’re sliding into a green crop top and a matching green skirt, this piece being made out of a shiny material. All three of your skirts are the same fabric (and definitely shorter than what’s considered decent), with the shirts being dealer’s choice. You finish your outfit off with black tights and a black headband—Bubbles is also wearing black tights, while Blossom will be sporting black knee-highs. All in all, it’s a pretty simple costume, but sometimes, that’s what the best costumes are.

You emerge from the bathroom once more and do a little twirl for Morpheus, whose eyes immediately light up. “This is very much a pop culture reference, so I’m not expecting you to understand the costume. Still, I think it turned out pretty good!”

Morpheus is not a man—the anthropomorphic personification of the collective unconscious, the Lord of Dreams and Ruler of the Nightmare Realm, simply chooses this as his favored form. Still, he is a man-shaped being, and like all man-shaped beings, he goes a little wild for the object of his affection in a short skirt.

“You will be wearing this in public?” he asks, standing up and approaching you.

Morpheus has lived for as long as beings have been able to dream. He quite literally lived through the Beginning when Adam and Eve didn’t know what clothes were, as well as a number of empires for whom clothing was merely a suggestion. The affront he’s showing at the clothes you’re wearing must be some sort of code for “this is my partner wearing something I consider sexy and I’m feeling possessive about other people seeing them.” That he looks at you as though you’re wearing the barest scraps of clothing and not dressing up as a cartoon superhero has you feeling mighty powerful.

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t turn you on a little bit.

“This is tame compared to what a lot of other people wear,” you inform him.

Morpheus does not look as though he’s listening. No, he’s focused on your body rather than your words. One hand rests on your waist to pull you closer to him, and the other hand comes to rest on your upper thigh where the skirt ends. He rubs the skirt between his thumb and index finger as though he’s testing the fabric. 

“Am I correct in assuming that costumes are no longer worn to disguise the wearer from errant spirits?”

“Yes, you’re correct.” Right now though, explaining the traditions of Halloween is not important to you. You need some validation, and stat. “But do you like it?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Thank you,” you say smugly, smacking his hand as he tries to slip it higher under your skirt. “Not tonight. I have to meet up with the gang soon!”

“Might I make a suggestion?” 

You nod. No matter how outlandish the suggestion, you’d listen to him make it, and you’d probably take it into strong consideration.

Morpheus places a delicate kiss on your jaw before he trails his lips to your ear. “Forget about your friends and stay with me for the evening,” he whispers seductively.

Oh, but that is tempting. You can already imagine the way in which Morpheus would remove your costume, the feeling of his hands on your body as he makes you forget about anything outside of you and him and the pleasure you bring each other. From the darkened look he gives you, he’s already picked up on these daydreams, and he’s in total agreement of that order of events. 

Unfortunately, your brain, that traitorous organ, reminds you of why you shouldn’t be absconding to the Dreaming with your lover.

You sigh in frustration at the logic and lean your forehead against his. “I would, but I’ve had these plans for a couple of weeks now, and I really am looking forward to them.”

Though it very obviously pains Morpheus to say it, he does agree. “Yes, I suppose it would be…rude to abandon them.”

“I should probably go,” you say begrudgingly, pulling away from him and focusing intently on gathering what you’ll need so that you don’t give in to your desire.

Morpheus watches as you whirl around the room, muttering the name of each item as you grab them. Your phone is annoyingly elusive, and you think you’ll just have to go without it until it’s dangled in front of you by your Dreamlord. Gratefully, you take it from him.

“Thank you,” you say sheepishly. That’s the last of your belongings, but you feel like you can stall just a bit longer. He’s heard about your plans, but you haven’t heard of his. “What will you do while I’m gone?”

“Wait for you to return to my embrace once more,” he teases.

“Please try to do something instead of moping the whole time.”

“I do not mope!”

You give him a look, one that says you see right through this charade. “Yes. You do. I’m sure there’s a new book you’ll want to read. Maybe ask Lucienne what she’s been working on, or start creating a new nightmare?”

“Are you not going to be late?” Morpheus deflects. It makes you laugh, but he is right, so you do a once-over of your room to make sure you’re not missing anything and kiss him briefly.

“Bye. I love you.”

“I love you as well, my starlight. You remember how to call for me should you run into trouble?” Of course you do: write down his name and speak it. It’s cute of him to act like he won’t try to have Matthew follow you, though.

You can’t help but smile at the sweet gesture. “Yes, I remember. I’ll be fine, okay?”

He nods, satisfied. “I shall see you later, then.”

You’re able to sneak in one more kiss before he’s off and you’re heading to your front door, already counting down the hours until your night of partying is over. Who knew dressing up like a Powerpuff Girl could get someone so hot and heavy?

If Morpheus thinks that’s attractive, just wait until he sees the angel costume you’re wearing tomorrow.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

Okay this idea has been rotting my brain all night and i need to get it out; i may turn this into a full fic (there’s so much more to eddie and how he died), but here’s some paranormal romance steddie! (with a nod to the @azrielgreen -verse at the end 😉)

edit: i've started posting the full fic! on tumblr | on AO3

—

imagine ghost!eddie haunting the estate that was built overtop where his trailer had been

ghost!eddie becoming corporeal(ish) every halloween, letting his rage fuel the poltergeist rumors at the old estate.

the forest hills estate sits empty since being completed, until Steve Harrington moves in from Indianapolis.

Steve Harrington who uses the inheritance from his grandfather to fix up the old place, not knowing the rumors, the stories, that have been floating around the last nearly 40 years.

Steve, who ends up learning about them from a pack of young teens riding by the front gate on their bikes.

“You know that place is haunted as fuck, right?” says the red head.

“Language!” he scowls at her, only to get an eye roll from her and the gangly, greasy looking one. “And no, I didn’t know that. Is that why all my cabinets are open every morning when I wake up?” he asks. And they really had been, he kinda figured that there was something going on in that house but hadn’t felt threatened by whatever presence was there.

He relishes in their spooked faces.

“A girl died there and her boyfriend killed the guy who did it soon after.” the one with the high top fade said earnestly.

“Allegedly, Lucas! Allegedly!” this time it’s the one with the curly hair and cap. “He always thought it was him but there was literally a letter.”

“He could’ve faked it, Dustin!” the gangly one snarks at his friend.

“It’s not likely, handwriting forensics concluded it to be her handwriting.” oof, this kid desperately needs a haircut.

“POINT IS.” the red head yells over the boys. It must’ve been a regular occurrence though, as they all fall silent (or silent enough while still bickering). She turns back to an amused Steve, “He likes metal music. If you play it, I’m sure he’ll leave your cabinets alone.”

“He who? The ghost?”

She nods, “Yep!”

So he does, picks up some retro vinyl to play (along with playing some tracks from his phone over his speaker while he works on the house), figuring if the guy died in the 80s, he’d probably like the sound of them better.

He plays the music, finds he likes some of it, talks to this mystery ghost as he goes about the house finishing projects. Throws some classic rock on sometimes too, saying “Hey ghost man, I’m sorry but I can’t listen to this much metal at a time. Hope Zepplin is okay.”

ghost!eddie who will always use some of his ghostly persuasion over things to spin the vinyl backwards on the turntable during ‘Stairway to Heaven’.

Steve, who does some research and learns about his supposed ghost, yells in greeting as soon as he’s back from the library, “Hi, Eddie!! I’m home!” reveling in the swirls of cold air that spin around him in response along with just a ghost (hah) of a whispered “Hi, Stevie..” in his ear.

Steve and Eddie, who get closer and closer over the months, learning anything and everything about one another. Steve goes through a lot of paper in the first couple weeks, asking a question and waiting for the paper with ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ written on it to flutter in an unseen breeze. Which paper scribbled with a different color marker to fly up into his lap (Eddie’s favorite color is blue, Steve tells him his is yellow).

Steve, beginning to see the shadow of another person in the corner of his eye more often the not as the summer winds into fall and the repairs he needed done are wrapping up.

By September there’s no denying the figure he sees reaching a hand out to flick up the answer to a question, or the laughter he hears coming from it after a particularly bad joke.

The shadow is Eddie; and Steve is starting to make out details about his ghost.

The long fluffy hair, the slim waist, the dark eyes that pierce through shadow against the slowly brightening skin beneath.

Eddie, who realizes Steve must be able to see him and starts staying away more often then not, afraid of what he’d see in that beautiful face when he’s finally his old boring self again. Can’t bear to see that disappointment on the face of this man he’s come to care so much for (read: fully crushing on).

He retreats fully by mid September, sticking to the far less quantifiable shadows in the house and between the walls.

Steve still tries, bless him. Leaves questions all over the place, hoping to see them answered. Eddie does, every night, wanting Steve to know he’s still here.

A week later, “Eddie, I know you can hear me, can you make sure to answer this one as soon as you can? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I figured we maybe show off our house—the house—now that everything’s done.”

‘Our house!! He said our house!!!’

Eddie looks at what his Steve left on the new kitchen counter that night.

“Halloween Party?” is scrawled on an open page of their now worn notebook.

Something hot floods his chest at that. Steve wanting to make sure he’s okay with that many people being here at once. Eddie knows damn well what the feeling is and he’s not about to waste his corporeal time this year, he’s going to do something with it besides wreaking havoc (on the house at least).

Halloween arrives, and many in the small town want a glimpse into the old estate. There are people everywhere, costumes and all.

Steve’s proud of all the hard work he’s done to the place but he still misses Eddie. Wishes he could be here to see what had become of the place he’d hated for so long. See it for real.

Halfway through the night is when it happens.

The party is in full swing, his ballroom full of people and music and food. His playlist changes over to Bowie.

Steve smiles to himself at the memory the song pulls forward. Still soon after learning about Eddie and staring their questions and answers thing, Steve had put on Labyrinth, laughing at how frantically the “i LOVED it!” paper had swirled around in the air after asking Eddie’s opinion.

A new face he hadn’t seen in the crowd before catches his eye. This man coming down the staircase is striking. Long, dark, curly hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, lean legs in off white pants, sparkling dark blue jacket, slim waist… He’s so gorgeous, so ethereal, he can’t be real.

Okay, nope, everyone else in the room is parting for this man. So, definitely real.

Steve stands as the man approaches, a hand extended. Keeping their eyes locked on each other, the man leads Steve by the hand to the center of the room.

The man smirks at Steve, still stunned, and arranges their arms. Then they’re dancing, swirling around the space the crowd created for them.

Steve feels like he’s floating.

He’s dancing to As The World Falls Down with a breathtaking man he now realizes is definitely dressed as the Jareth to his Sarah.

Steve finally finds his voice, “Hi..” It’s barely a whisper.

The man smirks, scoffs a laugh, but whispers back: “Hi Stevie.”

Steve’s brain screeches to a halt, and the man’s eyes sparkle with mischief (and a little bit of apprehension).

He can’t compute the information right away, frantically scrambling for a logical explanation. Some way for someone to know about Eddie enough to imitate him, to know about ‘Stevie’..but comes up with nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.

“Eddie…is that really you?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, it’s really me.”

Eddie brings their foreheads together and they sway to the rest of the song, Eddie softly singing along.

The song ends and Steve pulls Eddie through the crowd and out into the garden.

His mind is still swirling, so he clings onto Eddie’s arms just as much as Eddie clings to his.

“Eddie—“

“Wait, Steve, let me..” Eddie clears his throat and explains everything. How he died, how long he spent his one night of reality trying to keep people away from where he and his best friend had died. “I don’t want to waste tonight, but I’m afraid if I—if I tell you how I feel about you…I will be complete. Done with my unfinished business and all that.”

“How do you know?”

Eddie chuckles. “The Moon.”

Steve now fully, painfully aware of how little remains of the night, how little time he may have with Eddie altogether, decides he doesn’t have time to unpack that. So he says “Kiss me. Eddie, please, kiss m—“

Eddie does, and the Moon smiles down on her beloveds.

[taomyou]

meat cleaver, heart stealer

pairing: levi ackerman/reader word count: 12,741 sypnosis: To Levi, there's nothing to ever be scared of, much less on Halloween. That is, until he enrolls in CHEM143. Then, Levi suddenly has two new things to be afraid of: his first CHEM143 midterm, and the feelings he has for his CHEM143 study buddy. Tags: modern au, university au, halloween, haunted houses, friends to lovers, fluff, meet-cute, hair-pulling, one-shot ao3 version here! A/N : this fic is entirely written in levi's pov!! thank you so much for reading, and happy (belated) halloween!!

Levi isn’t scared of anything.

No, really.

He isn’t.

Whether it’s ghosts, axe murderers, or spiders, he’s got himself covered. After all, ghosts aren’t real, Levi’s sure he could win in a fight against an axe murderer, and he knows his place is too clean to house any spiders.

Even during the month of October, when Isabel and Furlan force him to watch all the latest horror movies with them, Levi isn’t shaken in the slightest. He doesn’t really care for such theatrics, but he hardly ever even flinches in the face of actual danger—what makes anyone think he’d be scared of something so obviously fake?

So, yes, Levi isn’t scared of anything.

That is…

Anything except midterms.

Well…

Actually, it’s not quite that either.

A scholarship student at the prestigious Paradis University, Levi is no slouch when it comes to his academic performance. Levi’s a good student, an even better test-taker at that, and there’s no need to suggest that he’s scared of midterms—finals, even.

No, it’s not just any midterm that he’s terrified of.

It’s his organic chemistry midterm that’s got him running for the hills.

Just a single exam, and he’s got himself feeling weak in the knees. He dreads the moment he’ll be sat in the exam hall, pencil in one hand and calculator in the other, trying to make sense of the questions being asked. It makes him nauseous to think about what’ll become of him when he’s left to identify alkane structures on his lonesome. Images of alkynes haunt him when he closes his eyes to go to sleep, forcing him out of bed to aimlessly stare at his notes in desperate attempt to retain information he doesn’t understand.

Truly, organic chemistry is the stuff of nightmares.

So, yes. Levi isn’t afraid of anything but his CHEM143 midterm.

Oh, that, and he’s terrified of the feelings he has for his CHEM143 study buddy.

♡

Many moons ago, in an unfortunate combination of both fate and poor planning on his part, Levi enrolled in CHEM143: Organic Chemistry.

As an architecture major, he hardly had any use for fucking chemistry of all things, but, as per bullshit university protocol, of course he had to take a chemistry class in order to graduate.

Which was… fine.

While he doesn’t care for the subject, Levi took Honors Chemistry in high school and did well enough. It wasn’t necessarily a walk in the park, but Levi did fine (which, by his standards, meant he passed with an A-minus), and, even now as a 3rd-year student in university, he’d like to believe that he’s retained enough of that information for it to help him now. He wouldn’t go as far as to say he was confident he’d do phenomenally, but he thought he’d do just fine.

Sure, it’s a two-hour lecture at 5 in the evening on fucking Tuesdays, and, sure, he definitely has better things to do at that time of day, but CHEM143 was the only chemistry course that fit into his schedule, so he couldn't really be too picky about what time it was.

But whatever.

Just get it out of the way as soon as possible, he rationalized. Better to worry about it now than later when he’s got to start worrying about internships and the existential dread of graduating. This is the last non-major requirement he needs anyway—might as well save himself the trouble of having to fit something else into his schedule during the next term.

And, so, in the spring just before summer, Levi enrolled in CHEM143.

Oh, how he wished he’d thought that through more thoroughly.

But, really, there was no way to know the misery that was to befall him.

After the spring exam season, Levi was off to enjoy a sunny summer vacation with his best friends annoying roommates, and all was well with his world. The trio finally had the time to fully enjoy each other’s company, and even with their everlasting energy and seeming lack of fatigue, Levi still couldn’t help but spend his days in the sun with an appreciation for the life he’d built for himself with his best friends.

The birds sang, the sky was wide and blue and beautiful, and his favorite cleaning detergent was on sale for the entirety of the season. What more was there to ask for?

But as all good things did, summer came to an end. Warm breeze turned into weathered chills, and it was again time for Levi to go back to school. Of course, Furlan and Isabel would still be living with him in their shared home, but the joys of summer would turn into the perils of academia soon enough, so Levi couldn’t help but feel robbed of happiness when he had to go back to school and actually be productive.

For whatever reason, school started back up on a Tuesday, meaning that his only class of the day was CHEM143, but Levi found that to be a blessing. His first class being the one that’d matter the least to him in the grand scheme of things? He might as well skip it.

Come the first day of class, he was just about as ready as he was for any other class. He had arrived 10 minutes before lecture, chose a seat towards the front to make sure he would be able to see the projector (but totally not because he didn’t want to be constantly getting up to see over the head of a taller person), and set down a notebook, highlighter, and a pen that Furlan had stolen the week before.

He waited by his lonesome for the remaining 8 minutes, only letting his eyes drift between his notebook and the blank screen at the front of the hall. He twirled his pen between his fingers, the practiced movements relaxing him, and he watched as the professor came into the hall and started getting ready to give the lecture.

After he’d finished with setting up his own laptop, he cleared his throat and faced the class. “Hello, everyone. I’m Professor Pixis, and welcome to CHEM143: Organic Chemistry. This first lecture is going to cover chemistry basics you should already know, so no need to take notes.”

Levi breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed further into his seat at the announcement, now setting his pen down on the table and crossing his arms across his chest.

Sure, the professor’s voice is about as bland and uninspired as unseasoned boiled cabbage, but at least this first lecture won’t be much work on Levi’s part.

“And before any of you ask: no, I do not reply to emails. Now, let’s get started.”

Levi watched attentively as Pixis loaded up the presentation to the board, and he thought that, for a second, this class would be just fine.

But, as soon as that projector turned on, Levi felt the wind get knocked out of his lungs.

Earnestly, Levi couldn’t even describe what it was that he was looking at. The definition of some obscure scientific concept was up on the screen, its mathematical equations and variables directly underneath it, and it felt like the professor was suddenly speaking in a different language.

A hydrocarbon?

He vaguely remembered the term from high school chemistry. It shouldn’t be too hard to relearn.

Molecular orbitals?

Not quite sure what those are, but Levi could probably figure it out on his own after class. It wasn't really a big deal, he could also just ask Isabel for help if he was completely stumped.

Everything else?

…

Absolutely, truly, no fucking idea.

Levi’s ego wasn’t so big that he’d be afraid to pick up his pen and start writing down whatever he could, but he certainly still did feel a fool for being the only person directly around him to be so frantically trying to retain this new information. His ears weren’t hot with shame and his hands weren’t shaking from fear, but his eyes did strain as he tried to follow along with the presentation as Pixis went through it faster than Levi could write.

He was so clearly out of his element here (get it? element, like chemistry), but he’ll be damned if he was going to let himself fall behind. Still, he felt that serious looming dread—the one where it feels like his heart is caught in his throat.

It felt like… fear.

Time passed both too slow and too fast here, having felt like he was stuck in an entirely new circle of hell he didn’t know existed. Last he heard, there wasn’t a circle dedicated to Organic Chemistry.

Before he knew it, the professor turned off the projector, the people around him were getting up and leaving, and the sounds of metal water bottles knocking against seats rung through the hall as students rushed to their next destination.

He was slow to put his things away at the end of class, his energy having been already spent on taking notes so vigorously for the last two hours. There were seemingly no other lectures being held in this hall, so there was no rush for him to leave as he wallowed in both anger and misery.

What the fuck was he even doing here? What the fuck does he need chemistry for? He’s a fucking architecture major, for fucks sake.

And such a high level at that. Who needs to know what the fuck a ketone is to design buildings?

Of course, Levi already knew the answers to all of those questions, but he still fumed to himself as he shoved his notebook into his backpack and tucked his pen into its side pocket.

God, if he wasn’t on scholarship, he’d just drop this fucking class and replace it with literally anything else, but unfortunately, his academic plans had already been reviewed by the scholarship board, and the last thing he’d want to do was upset them by making them review another schedule.

Sighing to himself, he haphazardly slung his background over his shoulder to get out of class as soon as he possibly could, but before he could get very far, he felt a gentle tug on the back of his jacket sleeve.

Ordinarily, Levi’d be angered to feel the touch of a stranger on him, but he was far too exhausted to scold whoever it was. Instead, he turned towards the pull to brush them off, but they let go before he could.

Looking back towards them, he came to find it was a girl, her hand now awkwardly retracting back to hold onto the strap of her own backpack.

Levi’d never seen her before, but she looked to be his own age, if not slightly younger. The lighting in the lecture hall certainly wasn’t doing her any favors, being an ugly yellow downcast, but she looked well put-together with a nice, warm outfit for the season and a notebook tucked under her arm. She certainly looked less fatigued than him, a gentle smile on her features, and her eyes shined brightly in spite of the horrendous lighting.

And fine.

He wouldn’t be caught dead calling a complete stranger “cute,” but he could think it, even if he was annoyed she was just tugging on his sleeve.

“What?” Levi asked plainly.

“Are you alright?” The stranger asked him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

She nervously smiled and tipped her head towards the seat he’d just gotten up from. “You seemed pretty stressed out just now.”

“And?”

“Well, I don’t know you, but do you need some help in this class?”

Oh, great.

Another fucking stem major. He should’ve fucking known.

Levi’s dealt with his fair share of these kinds of people already. He has to take a decent amount of physics classes, as per major requirement, and the number of assholes that want to tell him that architecture isn’t a “worthwhile” field of study is unfathomable. Every engineering major seems to think architecture is just making pretty pictures, every math major assumes he spends his days measuring random shit with a tape measure, every biology major thinks he wasn’t smart enough to pursue a “real” science degree.

And, now, this random chemistry major is probably going to tell him to quit while he’s ahead and drop out.

“You’re right. I don’t know you, so it’s none of your fucking business,” Levi barked. “Go patronize someone else.”

Maybe he was too harsh, but whatever. It was getting late, and he had to go home to eat dinner (and, apparently, study his fucking ass off for a class he didn’t even want to take).

He turned around to leave, but, again, before he could start walking to leave, the girl spoke up.

“Wait, I’m sorry! I didn��t mean to come off as rude!”

He didn’t halt in his step as he started walking towards the door, but he rolled his eyes. “Sure, you didn’t.”

He could hear her shuffling around to take larger steps to catch up with him, but that only prompted him to walk even faster. The exit was a fair bit away from the front where he was coming from, so he was forced to listen to her talk some more.

“Really, I didn’t! I think we could help each other out!”

Yeah, right. As if Levi had anything to offer this random stranger.

“And how exactly would I be helping you?”

“Well, uh, you seem like you’re really a good student, and-”

What, she wanted him to take notes for her?

Please.

“Yeah, no thanks. Fuck off.”

“Wait, hear me out! It’ll only be a second, I promise!”

His pace quickened further until he seemed to be nearly jogging, and his brows furrowed as he kept his eyes directed at the door.

When he reached the exit, he tried to leave enough space for himself to get out without the door hitting the stranger, but when he realized that she was too occupied with chasing after him to look out for the slab of metal about to hit her, he frowned and held it open for her to get out safely.

There was hardly any breath to catch, the two of them only having been speedwalking through an otherwise empty lecture hall, but they stood just outside of that door for a good few seconds before Levi cleared his throat and crossed his arms before facing the girl.

“Listen, I don’t know who you think you are, but if you think you can take advantage of me to take your notes or whatever the fuck else it is that you want me to do, then you’re wrong. Leave me the fuck alone.

“Fucking chemistry majors,” he grumbled under his breath.

And then, just as he was about to leave, the strangest thing happened.

He heard the stranger start giggling, then laughing, and then covering her laughter with a hand over her mouth. Her shoulders shook as she tried to stifle the sound of her apparent joy, and her notebook fell to the ground. She bent down to pick it up, but not before she let a small but genuine smile settle on her face.

What a weirdo.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” He hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but it was inconsequential enough of a question.

“I’m not a chemistry major,” she said through gaps in her chiming laughter.

Levi grimaced. “Does it really look like I fucking care what your major is? Whatever obscure science it is, you aren’t any better than me for knowing more about chemistry than I do.”

She blinked several times before laughing again, covering her smile again with her hand. “Yeah, I’m not a science major at all, I’m just taking this class for my graduation requirements. Sorry if I came off as condescending.”

…

He didn’t know what else to say, so she continued.

“One of my friends took this class last year and left me their notes, so I thought I could share them with you, since you seemed to be just as lost as me. I have them scanned online already, but I brought a physical copy with me in case the internet didn’t work in the hall.”

…

“...Oh.”

Oh? Who were you kidding, Levi?

Fuck.

She wasn’t looking down on him—she really did mean what she was saying about not wanting to come off as patronizing. She really did want to help him.

Now he has to feel bad for assuming the absolute fucking worst of this random cute stranger.

Of course, he wasn’t going to tell her that he felt bad for thinking what he did of her, but he was going to feel the embarrassment of this situation for the rest of his life anyway.

After a brief pause, she continued. “It’s fine if you don’t want them, but let me get you a drink since I’ve held you up for so long,” she offered, pointing over to a café just barely in his peripheral vision.

Breaking out of his own preoccupied mind, Levi blinked and then shook his head. “There’s no need for that. A drink, I mean.”

“Is that a ‘yes’ to the notes, then?”

Fuck.

Levi didn’t want to admit he needed those notes, but she was already starting to reach into her backpack to take them out, and if she was offering, he’d be an even greater fool than he looked earlier to reject them.

But he didn’t feel right taking advantage of some stranger he’d just spent the last 5 minutes cursing at, so he had to reject them. What kind of heartless jerk would let a sweet girl like this give him her notes for free?

Before he could tell her that he didn’t need the notes (which would be a lie, but she doesn’t need to know that), someone walking behind her abruptly bumped into her, knocking her forward towards Levi.

Because Levi wasn’t going to just fucking let her fall onto the cold cement, he held out his arms to steady her in her fall, and because the person who’d knocked her over didn’t even bother saying a “sorry,” Levi yelled out a “fuck you” at them.

A justifiable reaction, he thinks.

He silently pulled her up to her feet, and seeing as the notes were now all scattered across the ground, he sighed as he bent down to start picking them up for her. She joined him in the regathering of the sheets, thanking him for catching her in her fall, and the two straightened up once everything was back together in two, surely misordered, stacks.

“Uh,” she mused, holding out her part of the picked-up notes, “thank you for catching me. Again, I’m really sorry for taking up your time, but here.”

He stared at the sheets being held out towards him, then at those that were in his own hands.

Well, she did say that they could help out each other, and looking at these notes even further, they were far superior to anything Levi could produce on his own. The colored diagrams and bolded words seemed to scream at him to take them for himself.

It wouldn’t really be taking advantage of her to take these if she also wanted something from him, right?

And, sure.

Maybe he was trying to justify prolonging this interaction, but no one else needed to know that.

He pushed her hands away and gave her back his half of her notes. “I changed my mind.”

She blinked. “Huh?”

“I could go for some tea,” he said, looking over at the café. He hadn’t ever been there before, but whatever.

If it meant he could spend a few more minutes figuring out what it was that this stranger wanted from him, then he’ll tolerate some poorly brewed tea.

“I’m paying, though.”

The girl blinked a few more times, seemingly trying to process what it was that he’d said, and then she smiled.

“Sounds good!”

She took back the notes from him, tucked them into her notebook, and led the way for the two of them to get their drinks. She was already awfully cheerful for someone who just came from a CHEM143 lecture, but the rest of the drab, chilly scenery around her seemed to only make her more lively and bright as she strolled past other students and faculty.

What was this feeling Levi felt in his bitter heart at this sight?

When they reached the café, there wasn’t really much of a line, 7 in the evening being quite late for university students who had plenty of other things to do, so they ordered quickly before Levi took care of paying for it. The stranger with him seemed to be acquainted with the person working the register, the two exchanging smiles, so when the girl from CHEM143 and Levi stepped away to wait for their drinks, he asked if she knew them.

“Oh, yeah! That was Sasha, we’ve been friends since high school. Her and I did haunted houses together.” The stranger leaned closer to him to look at the receipt he’d gotten, and she pointed at a small line at the bottom. “She gave us an employee discount, see?”

Her shoulder brushed up against his in the exchange, and he felt that small flutter in his heart again.

What the fuck was going on with him today? Was it the weather?

Before he could dwell on it much further, his name was called and he grabbed both drinks, and the stranger was motioning him to come over to a booth near a window that let in moonlight.

Levi sat down across from her, and as he placed her drink on the tablespace in front of her, she set her notebook and started rearranging the notes into proper order again, seemingly having marked them with numbers in the corners of the page. He watched silently, unknowing what to say, and when she finished, she handed the stack to him with another smile.

Fuck.

He wasn’t even going to even bother ascribing a name to this feeling anymore. It was probably just the weather.

He thanked her for them, and he absentmindedly flipped through the notes to feel how many things were written and drawn in them. Again, he was amazed by the sheer quality and quantity. The handwriting could’ve been better, but it was well organized, regardless, and he wasn’t going to fault whoever made these for being in any hurry when he could barely keep up during the first lecture.

No matter, no way a normal person made these.

“I take it your friend’s a chemistry major?”

She nodded, taking her first sip of tea. “Yeah, biology too.”

“They must be insane to be majoring in both,” Levi winced.

“Oh, they are,” the stranger laughed. “I don’t think any sane person would enjoy taking 3-hour labs, much less chemistry ones, but they really do like it. They’re studying abroad this semester, though, so I haven’t really been able to keep up with their shenanigans as much as I used to.”

“I see.”

There was an awkward pause as Levi put the stack back on the table to free his hands and grab his own cup of tea to drink from it.

Surprisingly, the tea wasn’t that bad. It could stand to be brewed a bit longer, but it wasn’t god-awful terrible like he’d expected.

“So, what did you mean when you said ‘we could help each other out?’ Clearly, I have nothing to offer you if you already have these notes.”

“Uh, well,” the stranger then sighed, putting her drink back on the table. “You seem like you’re a really focused student, and I’m… not. So I was thinking that we could… be study buddies?

“It’s totally fine if you don’t want to, I'm sure you barely have enough time to yourself as is, but I just thought I’d ask since I know I’m going to be struggling a lot in this class, and, not to be rude, but I think you’re in the same boat as me.

Well, that last assumption definitely wasn’t far from the truth.

A study buddy, huh?

Ordinarily, Levi would find such a proposition laughable. Who needs a whole other person to help with a course subject? If you can’t do it alone, then why bother with occupying someone else’s time?

But, after the disaster that was his first CHEM143 lecture, he knew he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t need that—a study buddy—even if that study buddy was just as clueless about chemistry as he was.

At least they could be clueless together. Not like they had any choice in the matter at hand—they both had to take CHEM143 to graduate, and there weren’t really many other options.

It was get a study buddy and pray that you’d pass, or do neither and fail.

And so, with a cordial nod of acceptance and a returned smile, a new friendship began: one between a guy as grumpy and rude as Levi, and a girl as colorful and bubbly as the distant spring season.

That day, it was decided that she’d bring the corresponding notes to lectures, and they’d follow along with them as Pixis spoke, and after some discussion of what worked with their schedules, it was decided that the two would study together for an hour after every CHEM143 lecture, and that they could both arrange more times to get together if the class demanded more time.

It probably would, but neither of them really wanted to broach that topic at such a late hour in the day, so they both silently agreed to have that conversation some other time.

But, quite candidly, before Levi could get to taking note of this addition to his calendar on that day, the stranger’s phone chimed with an alarm, and she abruptly got up and started scribbling on a freshly torn piece of notebook paper.

“I’m so sorry, but I have to leave to catch the bus now! I’ll see you next week!”

She slid the note towards him, and, just like that, she disappeared into the night as if she were the sun and all the sky’s stars.

Levi pulled the slip closer towards himself, and he turned it so that it was facing him. On the piece of paper was a phone number, what he assumed was her school email, and her name.

Oh.

Somehow, in this entire interaction, she hadn’t ever introduced herself. She got to hear his name, what with him placing their tea orders under it, but he didn’t get to know of her name until now.

Aw, fuck.

That feeling again.

Reading the slip again, it hit him that she’d left him her phone number—a gesture that wasn’t entirely foreign to him, but somehow felt different this time.

There wasn’t any sort of expectation of a date or any other informal meeting, either—this was purely for the mutual benefit of passing CHEM143—so why did he feel his ears start to burn up amidst the chilly autumn air?

And was it that having her name—your name—finally in consciousness that had his stomach in small knots?

He felt like he did in the CHEM143 lecture that day—sickly, doomed.

Surely, this feeling was that of fear.

Wasn’t it? It certainly wasn’t any other feeling he could think of.

But whatever.

He wasn’t going to be scared of this stupid fucking chemistry class, and he certainly wasn’t going to be scared of a girl, much less one who was as sunny as his new study buddy for CHEM143.

…

Right?

♡

As the weeks went by, it turned out that it was not the case that Levi would be less scared.

The doom of the first upcoming CHEM143 had Levi more on edge than he’d ever been in his whole life. As the date came closer, Levi’s nightmares of carbon properties became more vivid, and the more he’d agonize during his study sessions with you over having to be in this fuckass class in the first place.

Speaking of such: study sessions with you weren’t much different in that regard.

Don’t get him wrong, Levi’s not a complete idiot.

When he’s studying with you, he genuinely puts his mind to the task at hand, and he’s actually come to find that you’re much more of a diligent student than you’d made yourself out to be. A bit distracted at times, sure, but you were doing your best, and Levi really couldn’t blame you for dozing off when reviewing properties of carbonic structures.

Still, he was right in assuming that you’d both need more time to study together, so it’s become customary for you and him to meet up whenever you’re both free in the week. A random Monday afternoon, a random Friday morning, even a lonesome Sunday—any time that showed itself as an opportunity to cram more CHEM143 knowledge into your brains, he took it. You and him also sat together during class now, not wanting to have to sit next to other, more unfriendly strangers, and you’d both desperately try to memorize what you could in the moment.

To say that either of you had a strong understanding of Organic Chemistry now was a far stretch, but it was evident that these study sessions were of great benefit to the both of you.

But once the studying part was over and there was still tea to be shared, he felt fear.

That sickening, flustering, shake in his knees.

That longing, lonesome, ache in his heart.

When you spoke of your love of the sun and the sky and the beauty of the world, he was wholly, truly bewitched. He no longer had control of his heart and its beats, and that scared the absolute fuck out of him.

It was especially bad when you’d slip out of your more sunny and upbeat attitude to relax into your chair and talk about what you did in the period of separation between when you last saw Levi. Sure, he loved was impartial to how you acted when you were out and about, but whatever fucking witchcraft you were casting upon him when you were just barely awake and telling him about how much you hated Pixis and the rest of your professors, he couldn’t stand up to it.

God, and he’d started walking you to lecture from the bus stop you came from, too.

And yet, in spite of that fear, he still cherished those moments, far more than he did the moments spent studying for CHEM143.

…

It was weird, to say the least.

Unlike the fear he had for CHEM143 and the upcoming midterm, he didn’t want to shy away from you. It somehow made the feeling less intense—being around you so often—but it was still there, and palpable enough to take note of when he would replay the days in his head at night.

And then he’d feel that fear all over again when the random o-chem facts would come back to the forefront of his mind as he was trying to go to sleep, but whatever.

This was definitely just some weird phase, probably in alignment with the weather.

Isabel talks sometimes about mercury being in gatorade, or something like that, so maybe it’s that, too.

But back onto the topic of being afraid of his feelings for you, that fear seemed to peak when, last week, two weeks before the CHEM143 midterm, you and Levi were lounging around that same café you always study in, and with nothing else to talk about, Levi posed a question he so long pondered an answer to.

“Why were you so adamant about talking to me when we first met?” Levi asked between sips of his earl grey tea.

He didn’t know what it was that came over him and prompted him to ask that, but better to get an answer than to have never asked at all, right?

He’d always wondered why you were so intent on getting his attention that day. He was earnestly very rude when he’d first met you, and while he’s grateful to have made a friend in this circle of hell, he couldn’t fathom why you’d chased after him that day.

Sure, he knew you needed a study partner, but he doubted that that was the entire reason why. 

You hummed behind a cup of midsummer raspberry tea, inhaling the earthy, fruity tones. “It’s a bit of a selfish reason, you sure you want to know?”

He nodded, and you set down your cup before looking outside the window and out towards the moon, just barely high in the sky at such hour.

“Well, I didn’t want to be totally alone in the class, and, I don’t know, you just looked like someone I could be comfortable with. Besides, I know fuck all about chemistry, and I thought, ‘well, if I’m going to fail this class, I might as well fail with that cute guy that looks like he also has no idea what he’s doing.’ Didn’t really expect us being study buddies to be actually helpful.”

Levi’s breath found itself caught on his heart, and he found himself frozen for a split second.

Was it that he was mildly hurt that you just confessed to only wanting to talk to him to make up for your loneliness?

Was it that he was embarrassed that you were reminding him of how idiotic he looked during that very first lecture?

Was it that he was flattered you thought he looked like someone you could be comfortable around?

Well, yes to all three of those things, but also that passing descriptor.

Cute.

You called him cute.

The comment was made in such quick passing that he wasn’t sure he’d even heard it properly, but it was clear as day, what you had said.

“Just to be clear, though, I really do like studying with you! I don’t think I would’ve made it this far if I was doing this all by myself.”

You turned to him, who was now facing the moon you’d just stared up at.

Levi didn’t have it in him to muster up the courage to ask the question of ‘What do you mean, cute?’, so he opted to stay silent instead.

“C’mon, Levi, say something. You’re scaring me,” you joked, reaching over the table to wave your hand in front of his face and bring him back to reality. 

He was scaring you?

No, no, no.

You had it all wrong.

You were the one that was scaring him.

Overtaken by that tumultuous feeling in his heart, from that moment onward, Levi was completely out of it.

Conversation still moved along as it always did and with neither of you going back to that your answer to his question. Levi thinks he changed the topic by bitching about your friend Hange’s handwriting (a sentiment that was long held but never spoken), but he can’t really remember when all he could think about was just how badly he needed to scream into the abyss and pray for solace and protection from the evils of CHEM143 and the bewitching charm of his CHEM143 study buddy.

Oh, how thankful he was that you both had a decent grasp on this week’s concepts and didn’t need to have any emergency study sessions. He needed at least a week to recover from this.

And, hey.

Even if he doesn’t recover from it, it’ll be Halloween, and that’s the one time of the year he’s supposed to be scared of something.

Surely, nothing out of the ordinary would happen, right?

♡

This Halloween, Levi has no particular plans.

He’d spent the sunnier part of the day at the campus library catching up on his homework, had a late lunch at the canteen before going back to the library to review his notes for his upcoming CHEM143 midterm, and then walked himself over to the bus stop to pick you up and walk you to lecture.

Nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary.

And yet, his heart is racing as if he’s expecting something terrifyingly scary to happen to him—all because he’s a week away from his first CHEM143 midterm, and a few minutes away from meeting with his study buddy for said midterm.

Fuck, he has really got to get these newfound fears under control.

On his walk, he wonders to himself if you’d want to have dinner instead of just a drink with him today—if for no other reason, then to celebrate Halloween and take advantage of the fact that most of the surrounding restaurants will be relatively empty, what with the amount of students preoccupied with partying or other traditional Halloween activities.

Even better, he can use the holiday as a reason to not have to mask his obvious fear of both CHEM143 and, uh.

Whatever else it was about you that scared him so much.

Don’t be fooled, though.

This is totally not because he wants to have an excuse to hang out with you outside of the weekly hours you spend together studying for CHEM143.

No, definitely not.

As he weaves through lightly forested pavement, he also realizes that it’s quite strange that you hadn’t texted him to let him know that you were on your way, but it isn’t that big of a deal—he knew you’d be there, and, just like every Tuesday, the two of you would bitch and whine about Pixis on the walk to class before trying to follow along with the notes that Hange had left you and keep up with the lecture.

When he arrives at the bus stop, though, there wasn’t any sight of you coming from the bus that’d just arrived.

That’s weird. You always come on this bus. The next one comes in 30 minutes—far too much later for you to make it to lecture on time.

Were you already on campus? Levi suspects not, you probably would’ve texted him to not come to the bus stop at all and to meet you somewhere else.

Maybe you’re coming on the later bus? You mentioned being at your friend Sasha’s house to hang out a bit on Halloween, but you didn’t say anything about having to miss class. Maybe Sasha would be dropping you off?

Did you catch the seasonal flu? Or forget you had class today? Or decide to ditch?

..

Or maybe you decided you were sick of walking with Levi to class. Levi doesn’t want to believe that’s what’s going on, but-

Wait.

Stop, Levi.

Don’t.

You’re not going to be able to concentrate in lecture today if you start thinking like this. Or at all, actually.

Instead of continuing to make assumptions and put his sanity at risk, Levi decides that his next best option is to call you and ask if you’re still on your way to class, or if you’re coming at all. He takes his phone out of his pocket, and, because he’s a total loser, he types in your phone number manually.

Not like he remembered it on purpose or anything, though.

It was just an easy number to remember.

At least, that’s what he tells himself as he brings his phone up to his ear and waits for you to pick up, but whatever.

That’s not important right now. What’s important is that he finds out if you’re okay or not, and whether or not you’re going to be going to class at all.

You’ve mentioned in very brief, very comedic passing that you always have your phone close to you in case Sasha ever burns down her kitchen again, which is why, as he waits on the lone bench facing the bus stop for you to pick up, he’s a bit surprised when you don’t immediately do so.

The phone goes to the second ring.

Then to the third.

Then to the fourth.

He starts to pull away his phone from his ear to avoid having to leave a voicemail and to simply redial you, but he hears sound coming from your end of the line and immediately pulls the device back up to hear the call properly.

“-hey, can you move?! I’m trying to get her phone to her!”

“Wait, who's calling? He looks like-”

"Oh, he's the o-chem guy!"

"-guys, how much more time do we have?!”

“Is that her boyfr-”

Levi’s earnestly confused to be hearing the sound of frantic overlapping voices from your end, but, thankfully, he hears your laughter chiming over the line as you thank someone on your end of the line.

When you’re somewhere away from the noise, you greet him properly. “Hey, Levi! What’s up?”

“Are you on the way to lecture?”

He hears a confused hum from you. “Hm?”

“Are you coming to class today? I don’t see you at our normal spot.”

“Didn’t you get my text?”

“Huh?” Levi muses. “What text?”

Levi never got a text from you—at least, he doesn’t think he did.

“Oh, I texted you to let you know that I wasn’t going to be coming to class today. Did you not get it?”

He puts the call on speaker and goes to pull up your texts, and, to his utter horror, there are several texts from you, in fact, telling him that you wouldn’t be coming to class today, and that you’re sorry you’ll be missing out on your “favorite weekly activity.”

How could he have missed these? He feels like he’s always waiting for a reply from you, whether that be for clarification on CHEM143 notes or help with the homework assignments, so how could he have missed when you texted him something pertaining to something as important as your absence for the day?

Seriously, how did he miss these texts? Is there something wrong with his phone?

But he’s been able to receive texts from Isabel all day, pestering him to do something with her and Furlan for Halloween, so it can’t be that.

It’s almost like he didn’t want to see anything from you, it feels that specific.

Come to think of it, it might be because he hasn’t texted you at all between this week and the last. You’ve both been insanely busy with midterms for other (more relevant) classes, and there wasn’t any particular need to bother you about CHEM143 when he knew there were other things to worry about, but, surely, he would’ve at least seen if you texted him, wouldn’t he?

But it’s you, so why wouldn’t he-

Wait.

…

Clicking back to his list of contacts, when he sees the small bell icon with the slash next to your contact, he realizes he muted your messages.

He muted your texts last week.

Levi feels pink start to tinge the tips of his ears as the embarrassment reaches him fully.

He totally fucking forgot he muted your texts, but now that he does, he cringes as he remembers why he chose to do such an idiotic thing.

After last week’s… whatever that was, he went home and decided that if nothing else, he could just ignore the feelings he had for you until Halloween, which meant muting texts from you so that he wouldn’t be stupidly waiting for a message that wasn’t really expected in the first place.

Truly, a fool he was.

“You still there?”

He lets go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Yeah, sorry. I got them, I probably just missed them.”

“No worries. Again, I’m sorry I can’t study with you today, but hey! It’s Halloween, go have fun!”

“Yeah, sure.”

There’s that same clamor in the background again, and Levi can barely hear your reply before you sign off on the call.

“-I gotta go now, but I’ll see you next week!”

Then the call ends, leaving Levi alone to bear the brunt of the hell that is CHEM143. He frowns to himself as he stares at your contact picture— a selfie you’d taken on his phone when he was busy ordering teas for the two of you at that café—and he sighs before he pockets his phone and walks himself to lecture.

And, as per usual, CHEM143 is absolute fucking hell.

The hall is particularly empty, with only Levi and another handful of students in attendance today. Pixis apparently has decided that he’s going to lecture just like he usually does, completely disregarding the fact that the majority of the class is missing out on this information right before next week’s midterm, but he says it’s their own fault for “not making use of their time wisely.”

What a dick.

But, apparently, this seems to work out in his favor.

Because Levi can’t really concentrate on anything in the first place, when Isabel calls him for the umpteenth time today, he just leaves the lecture while Pixis is in mid-sentence. What reason is there to feel bad when he’s clearly not going to learn anything here today anyway?

Levi picks up once he’s outside, and he starts making his way over to the parking lot to just leave campus. “What?”

“Hey, best friend! Wait, why’d you pick up? Aren’t you in class right now?”

“Why would you even call me if you thought I was busy?”

“Well, you’re not, so does it really matter?” Isabel laughs. “But really, why’d you pick up?"

“I’m ditching, and you’ve been bothering me all day. Just say what you have to say.”

“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine today?” She snickers. “But anyway, I just wanted to ask one last time if you wanted to come to that haunted house with me and Furlan.”

Levi sighs. “Why would I want to go to a haunted house?”

“Oh, c’mon! It’s Halloween!”

“And since when have I ever celebrated Halloween?”

“You watch horror movies with us every year!”

He rolls his eyes. “Because you force me to, and I live with you idiots. Can’t exactly say ‘no’ when you’re threatening to change the locks on me.”

“Just come with us! You aren’t doing anything today anyway!”

Levi might as well try his hand at lying that he has to study with you. “I’m actually going to study with-”

“And don’t use your weekly study sessions with your o-chem study partner to get out of this! You can bring them, too!”

“Yeah, I don’t think-”

“Great! I’ll text you the address, and we’ll wait for you at the entrance! Don’t worry, I can pay for your ticket! See you in 30!”

Isabel then hangs up, leaving Levi to his own devices as he continues walking to his car. He feels the vibration of his phone to let him know that Isabel really did send an address to him, and he stares at the text with a frown.

There really is no getting out of this, huh?

Great, now he has to spend his evening with those two fools, doing whatever it is that fools like them do at haunted houses.

Sighing in exasperation, Levi decides to just cut his losses now and go.

Maybe you were right—he should go “have fun.” He hardly believes something like this is fun, but at least he’ll have something new to complain about when he sees you next.

Ugh, but even that doesn’t seem worth it.

A haunted house? What business does Levi have going to a haunted house when he’s only scared of organic chemistry and his own study partner?

Whatever.

Who knows, maybe he’ll even enjoy it.

And maybe, just maybe, this would actually instill fear in him for something other than anything and everything CHEM143 related.

♡

Who was he even kidding?

Levi hates this place already, and he hasn’t even stepped foot inside yet.

Levi hardly paid attention to the name or location or whatever of wherever he was going; he simply put it into his GPS, blindly drove in the direction it told him to go, and arrived at his destination, but if he knew that this haunted house was at a fucking amusement park, he’d just switch the locks back himself and get his roommates banned from the locksmith’s shop.

But he already paid for parking, so he just has to suck it up and go inside now.

He’s going to look like a complete coward if he doesn’t, and while he can tolerate other university students whispering about him not knowing what the fuck a 1-pentyne is, he will not let little kids think he can’t handle some lame haunted house.

Ugh.

After he parks and walks himself to the entrance, he spots Isabel and Furlan waiting for him at the entrance, just like they said they would.

Isabel waves him over. “Didn’t think you’d make it!”

“Me neither,” Levi glowers. “You didn’t tell me this place was at an amusement park.”

“We know you wouldn’t have come if you knew,” Furlan shrugs. “But you’re here now, so you can’t leave.”

“Where’s your study partner? Weren’t you going to bring them with you?”

“She had other plans,” Levi says. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with and leave.”

“What a party pooper,” Isabel sighs. “Well, at least you’re here now! Let’s go get our tickets!”

The trio walks over to the booth selling tickets, and Isabel takes her wallet out of her purse. “Hello, three tickets, please!”

"Coming right up! Just one second," the ticket attendant says, starting to input the order into the operating system. The total price flashes on the screen, prompting Isabel to hand him her credit card, but before he takes hold of it, he pauses.

And he's staring straight at Levi.

...

Weird.

Levi has never seen this guy before in his life.

"Hey, are you Levi?"

"What?"

Again, Levi has never seen this guy before in his life. How does he know his name?

"You are, aren't you?"

"Why does it matter?"

What the fuck is going on here?

"You totally are!" The attendant exclaims, now turning to face the person working the window next to him. "Jean, get over here! It's Levi!"

The aforementioned Jean doesn't bother sparing whoever this is a single glance, presumably preoccupied with something on his phone. "Yeah, right. Connie, you've said that to the last four guys that came to your window, you clearly have no sense of facial recognition."

"Dude, I'm not kidding! It's the guy from the picture!"

Jean looks up, and his eyes widen he catches sight of Levi. "Oh, shit. Yeah, it is."

This is a bit less jarring because Levi does vaguely remember Jean from his statistics class, but that doesn't explain why Jean's now also fucking staring.

It was annoying enough that he had to be here at all, and now people wanna treat him like he's a zoo animal? Absolutely fucking not.

"Whatever the fuck is going on, stop it, and just give us our fucking tickets already," Levi groans.

The attendant then turns back to Levi, frantically waving his hands out in front of him. "Sorry, sorry! Didn't mean to be rude!" 

All the while, Isabel's been awkwardly holding up her card, but the attendant pushes her hand away. "Huh? Do you not take card?"

He waves her off. "We do, but your tickets are on us."

"What the fuck? Why?" Levi badgers.

"Levi," Furlan nudges, "don't question it, just let them take care of it."

"Yeah, what he said," Connie laughs. He grabs the tickets from the dispenser, all of which are to be marked at the actual entrance to the amusement park, and he very sinisterly hands Levi his.

Mind you, he looked completely normal when he handed Isabel and Furlan theirs.

This place just keeps getting worse by the minute, it seems.

The trio now then proceed to the second entrance, which thankfully is a normal and decently pleasant interaction, and when they step past the gates, they're greeted with the very unseemly sight of a performer dressed as a zombie.

And while Levi wouldn't go as far as to say he's scared, he's still caught a bit off guard, and he finds that his breath falters for less than a second at the intrusion.

Which, to be fair, isn't really much of a reaction when he considers that Isabel and Furlan both jump in fear and scream for their lives, but he supposes that this just goes to show how unfazed he is by these kinds of things.

Levi's scared of two things, and two things only: his upcoming CHEM143 midterm, and you. Him getting scared by anything that’s going to happen here is beyond the scope of imagination.

♡

And, as fate would have it, that was exactly the case.

The amusement park had a variety of haunted houses scattered all throughout, in which the performers would hide in the haunted house-slash-mazes and pop out whenever someone walked by. Clowns in haunted circus tents, creepy demon children in abandoned orphanages, werewolves and vampires in a makeshift forest—none of them did anything to him. If anything, they annoyed him more than they excited him—he could only take so much of Isabel and Furlan clinging to his arms for dear life.

He’d keep trying to pry them off of him, but that effort would be fruitless considering the fact that there are scare actors in every dark corner of the park waiting to jump on unsuspecting victims, and Isabel and Furlan are both too deathly afraid of every single monster chasing after them to let go of their raven-haired friend.

God, not to mention their incessant screaming. You’d think they were actually getting chased by killer clowns, the way they were crying for mercy, no matter how many times Levi told them that none of this was real. The scare actors weren’t even really allowed to touch the guests, and they still react like this?

But, needless to say, by the time Levi's been through all but one of the haunted houses, he wasn’t scared by a single thing that’d came his way.

And speaking of that last haunted house—the trio had heard whispers of it all night.

In lines for other haunted houses and in brief mentions as they’d pass by other groups of friends, they’d overheard people talking about how violently they’d cried while stuck in the seemingly endless labyrinth, how ghastly they’d felt after leaving the torturous maze. Most of them seemed to still be reeling in the horror, their faces pale and their hold on loved ones strong.

And, of course, that just made Isabel and Furlan all the more excited to save it for last.

And, so, here they are now, giddily waiting in line for the maze, with Levi still acting as their makeshift lifeline of support.

“I’m so excited! I hope they chase after us and we have to actually run away from them!”

“No, no, they have to rev up their chainsaws next to us, and then chase us!”

Chainsaws? Where the fuck did the notion of chainsaws come from?

The way they spoke, you’d guessed they were going to anything but a haunted house on Halloween, but Levi knows this to be ordinary Isabel-Furlan behavior, so he just sighs as he waits for the line to progress. It’s quite a long queue, but his friends had insisted that they go to this final house to “get their money’s worth” (which, in fact, did not make any sense when they didn’t even pay for their own tickets).

Just one more of these stupid fucking houses, and he could go home and have actually terrifying nightmares about carbonyl compound and catalytic asymmetric synthesis and whatever other 143 concepts he was running from.

After a bit more of a wait where the trio decided to indulge in many, many games of rock-paper-scissors, they finally reach the beginning of the line.

Looking up at the sign that’s perched above the entrance door, Levi raises a brow.

The Butcher Shop.

Huh.

What a stupid name for a haunted house.

What’s so scary about a butcher shop? Surely, they just hang fake pig carcasses from the ceiling beams and call it a day. What the fuck was scary about that? He can hear people’s screams from all the way out at the entrance, but really, what was there to be scared of?

Ugh, the people at these things are scared of fucking everything.

When the screams have subsided enough to allow for it, the short blonde girl that’s manning the door greets them with a smile. Her demeanor is oddly sweet, considering this is a haunted house, but okay.

“Hi! My name’s Historia, thank you so much for waiting! How many of you are in this group?”

“Three,” Levi answers curtly, sensing that his friends are too busy frothing at the mouth in anticipation to answer themselves.

“Sounds good!” The blonde then points to a small board that’s hung up on the side of the entrance to the house with some key information. “Just to let you know, the actors in this house are able to touch you, but if you yell out ‘mercy,’ then they'll leave you alone.”

Oh, absolutely fucking not.

He can deal with getting the blood circulation in his arms cut off and his ears getting blown out by the screams of his best friends, but a stranger touching him? One that’s probably covered in fake blood, at that?

Absolutely fucking not.

“And I’m sure the three of you want to stay together, but it’s recommended that you complete The Butcher Shop by yourself for maximum scare. Did you still want to stay together, or split up?”

“Stay toget-”

“Split up!”

“Split up!”

“Levi! This is the last one! We gotta make sure we’re extra scared!”

“Yeah! Please, Levi! You gotta do it by yourself!”

… Great.

Just fucking great.

Levi doesn’t think he’s going to get scared if he’s by himself, but he’ll be damned if he has to deal with both this and having to find Isabel and Furlan after they complete this fucking maze. Knowing those two buffoons, they’ll be too busy screaming their heads off to find their way out to the exit.

“Well, whatever you decide, have fun!” Historia laughs, and she smiles once more before peeking into the haunted house. “Ymir! Are we ready for more guests yet?”

“How many?”

“Three!”

A scare actor dressed as a bloody farmer then comes out of the maze and puts her arm around the blonde, leaning her head atop the shorter girl. “Yeah, they’re good to go in.” The bloodied farmer girl then looks at the small group of Levi, Furlan, and Isabel before squinting her eyes at Levi, her eyebrows furrowing as she stares at his face. “Hey, do you happen to be taking organic chemistry right now?”

At the mention of… that, Levi freezes, but he nods regardless and tries to keep his face neutral to hide the obvious fear he has for the subject.

The farmer nods back, and she leans down to whisper something to Historia. Both girls then giggle to themselves until the shorter of the two eventually shoos the other back into the haunted house to go back to terrorizing paying customers, and Historia then faces the trio again, motioning for them to head inside.

Isabel’s the first to go inside, practically skipping to her own doom, and while Levi expects Furlan to go next, he stands firmly as he waits for Levi to go first.

“Furlan, go.”

“Nope. I have to see you go inside.”

“I’m not a child, I’m not going to wander off into the darkness and never return.”

“Look, I know you’re only here for our sake, and I really appreciate that, but try to actually have some fun, okay? I rea-”

“Go in already! You’re holding up the line!” A brown-haired guy from further back in the line yells.

Levi finds him immediately in the crowd, and despite the guy being with who Levi assumed was his girlfriend and another blonde guy the couple seemed to be friends with, Levi flips off that heckler and rolls his eyes before going into the maze by himself.

Upon entering the labyrinth, Levi’s met with a splitting pathway with three directions. There’s no difference between each, so Levi just goes through the one directly in front of him, completely disregarding the table display of animal carcasses and bloody knives that acts as the centerpiece of this first section.

When he’s through the door, immediately out pops a girl dressed in a blood-drenched chef’s cloak and hat with a prop axe in her right hand, a huge smile on her face as she stands in front of Levi. The chef hat seems to obstruct her vision just enough to not let her fully see him, but allows her the range to see where she’s going. In her left hand is a huge slab of bloody meat, and she slams it against the wall to cause a huge blood splatter, adding even more red to her coat. The meat drags against the wall as she creeps closer to him, her axe making a grinding noise on the floor, and she stops a sizable distance away from him before she finally speaks, all while lifting her axe to strike the piece of the wall just perpendicular to his head.

“I’m so hungry… for meat!”

It’s almost laughable just how corny her delivery is, but, apart from that, her voice is really familiar. He can’t quite place it, what with her appearance being that of a messy chef rather than the normal person he probably knows her as, but whatever.

This really isn’t scary at all. This is probably what happens in the back of the grocery store, anyway.

When Levi doesn’t react, the girl huffs and pries her axe from the now-dented wall, now resting it back on the ground as she sighs. “You’re no fun.”

Levi just stares at her before he silently walks past her, minding the axe that he could’ve tripped over. “Good to know.”

After walking down this bloody and worn-down path, he encounters his next “scare” in the form of another actor, this time dressed as a janitor equipped with a bloody mop and bloody rubber gloves.

Now that’s something to be scared of—a mess like that could take days to clean.

The actor, his taller statue meaning that he towers over Levi, lifts the mop and swings it towards Levi in a fake-out before he brings the mop back down to the floor and goes back to drawing satanic symbols on the pavement. He mumbles to himself as he does so, occasionally lifting his freckled face to give Levi a sweet, exaggerated grin, but even though Levi’s mildly unnerved as he walks past the acting janitor, it doesn’t really do anything to scare him.

As he makes his way deeper into the maze, there are even more jumpscares and other performers that try to get to him, but none succeed. There’s several setpieces that he has to walk through as well, of which consist of mostly animal carcasses and fake severed limbs, but even though some of the props move and startle him slightly, he feels close to nothing in terms of legitimate terror.

As he reaches what he assumes is the end, already having been in this haunted house for a harrowing twenty minutes now, he sighs to himself and slows his pace.

Finally, Levi’s just about ready to go home and have a nice, good, long talk with Isabel and Furlan about the consequences of dragging him to places that he doesn’t want to go. He loves them too much to ever really dislike these outings, regardless of how much he hates the environment, but he is never going to be coming back here again.

I mean, come on.

If you’re going to market this “haunted house” thing as an actual horror experience, then at least make it scary. Levi’s sure there’s something out there that could maybe scare him as much as CHEM143 and its muses, someone just has to come up with it first.

Whatever. At least he can-

Before that thought can continue, Levi trips over something, and he falls forward and onto his knees. Thankfully, the ground in front of him isn’t completely covered in fresh fake blood and grime, but he doesn’t get much time to be thankful when he feels a tug on his hair from above.

What the fuck is going on?

He opens his mouth to start to say ‘mercy,’ but before the words can slip through his lips, the hand that’s gotten ahold of his hair laces itself further against his scalp and pulls him upwards, lifting him up onto his knees. This person’s foot is placed on the backs of his calves, pinning him to the floor and keeping him from standing up again.

He can see the glint of a meat cleaver that’s being held up against his throat, and though he is being manhandled, the hand that’s firmly holding his hair is gentle and doesn’t hurt.

…

Well, he supposes that this is scary. Unbearably so, that his heart feels like it's beating faster than a bullet train. 

Whoever it is that’s got him underneath them, they lean forward and press the cleaver further into his skin—obviously, not enough to even scratch the skin, but just enough to let Levi know that they’ve got control over him right now.

Ok, that’s enough.

“Mer-”

“Are you sure you want to say that?” The person asks in a hushed voice, interrupting him. The voice is charmingly feminine, but because he’s a bit frozen with mild fear, what with a fucking meat cleaver against his throat, he can barely take note of the fact that it sounds very, very familiar.

“Yes,” he replies dumbly, trying to shift his head to get a better look at whoever it is that’s got his hair in her hand. Though the grip remains as gentle as it did moments ago, it’s still firm in its placement, and Levi isn’t able to get a better look at who this butcher is.

“I don’t think you are,” she whispers again, now removing the blade from his neck and now procuring a fake bloody heart, one that now stains her hand red and drips onto the floor in front of Levi’s knees. “Would you mind if I stole your heart?”

She then holds the heart even closer to Levi’s face, though careful not to touch his face. “Look, you can even have mine.”

Levi gulps, his throat narrowing and struggling to make way for more air.

Fuck. Just one word, and she’ll let him go.

But, again, before the syllables can be spoken, she interrupts him. “After I steal your heart, I’ll make sure to take good care of it. Keep it running on cardiomyocytes, nourishing it with dienes, carbon fibers. You’ll never have to remember how to run your heart yourself, I’ll take care of it for you.”

Oh, fuck.

He is absolutely fucked.

What kind of butcher speaks so sensually?

What kind of butcher tugs on men’s hair to keep them on their knees?

What kind of butcher holds meat cleavers to said men’s throats?

And, more importantly—what kind of butcher knows this much about organic chemistry?

He's drawn out of his more confused feelings to more hazy ones, as he can feel her breath warming the tips of his already cherry-red ears.

"Come on, won't you give me permission to steal it? I promise I'll take care of it. I'll even teach you all the chemistry our hearts could have together."

She tugs a bit harder on his hair. Just enough for him to feel, but not anywhere near enough to actually hurt him. At this point, he has no idea what thoughts are running through this girl's head, but it's a bit weird that she's being so... nice?

At least, nice for someone who's going to have him quaking in fear for the rest of his life.

And, yet, as she's drilling him into the ground and forcing an answer out of him, it feels as if her hands are shaking, like this is her first time ever doing something like this.

He supposes that holding men hostage and forcing them to sacrifice their hearts isn't something a normal person does, but still.

Something about the butcher's uneasiness makes him feel... special.

He's obviously still scared out of his fucking mind, but knowing that he's the only one who's ever been held up like this floods his ego and sets off fireworks in his core.

Without any critical thoughts, the words slip through his lips—only, this time, the word he wants to say isn't "mercy."

"Please."

"Please 'what?'"

Again, Levi fails to exercise any critical thinking skills, because he replies the only way he knows how—"Please steal my heart."

"Aw, you're so cute," the butcher laughs, the chime lighting up a gentle flame in his chest, and she drops her heart onto the floor, and after she reaches into what he can only guess is her pocket, she pulls out a bandana and holds it out in front of him.

“Don’t.

"Fucking.

"Move.”

Levi only knows how to blink in that moment, not knowing how to even breathe, so he doesn’t think he could move even if he wanted to, but he still nods.

The butcher then lets go of his hair to use both hands to tie the blindfold over his eyes, obscuring his vision, and Levi feels her pulling back on his hair to bring him up to his feet. His senses are all over the place so he has to clumsily scramble to stand up properly, but once he does, the tug on his hair turns into a softer, gentler lacing of fingers against his scalp, and he can feel hot breath from her on his lips.

“If you want to, you can say ‘mercy,’ now. I won’t be mad if you do,” the butcher says to him, her voice soft and soothing as she now moves to massage his head and wipe at blood that’s gotten splattered onto his face in this maze.

Earnestly, Levi has no idea of what he wants to say.

All he knows is that he’s fucking terrified, and he’s so fucking confused because he never expected to be afraid of a fucking butcher, of all things.

“C’mon, Levi, say something. You’re scaring me.”

He was scaring her?

No, no, no.

She had it all wrong.

She was the one that was scaring him.

Doesn't she realize that she literally had him held up by the hair on his head? That he was on his knees because of her? That-

Wait.

Levi?

The butcher knows his name?

…

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

My.

Fucking.

God.

It was you this entire fucking time?

You, his study buddy in CHEM143? The same you that had plans with Sasha tonight? The same you that he’d muted over the phone to keep his heart from bursting out of his chest? The same you that extended sunshine to him in the rain?

The same you that's got him pinned to the floor, forcing him to give his heart to you?

Oh, fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Of course it was.

Who else fucking knows how terrified he is of CHEM143? Of you?

Levi’s senses come back to him with that revelation—that, right now, you’re in front of him, asking to steal his heart from him.

Except, you never had to ask.

Hell, you never did.

You just stole it anyway, what with your charming laughter and your friendly demeanor and the comforting company you brought him during all those CHEM143 study rendezvous.

He can feel you starting to move up the blindfold to properly reveal yourself to him, but before you can, he leans forward and crashes his lips into yours anyway, his eyes fluttering closed in spite of his already-obscured predicament.

He can feel you humming against his lips, wanting chance to fully explain yourself, but he returns your earlier gesture of a gentle lacing of fingers into hair, as well as another hand which cradles the opposite side of your face.

He can feel you smiling against his lips, then promptly resting your arms on his shoulders as you let him take the lead in the kiss.

And, finally, he feels that fear again.

That sickening, flustering, shake in his knees.

That longing, lonesome, ache in his heart.

Levi can feel that again.

Though…

Perhaps he was wrong this entire time.

As his lips take mold in yours, and yours in his, he realizes that he was never scared of two things.

What he mistook as fear for the feelings he had for his study buddy in CHEM143 was actually…

The beginning blossoms of love.

The fear he has for CHEM143 is definitely not what he was wrong about, because there’s no way in fucking hell that he’ll ever not be afraid of Lewis dot structures, but…

And maybe, just maybe...

He’ll be okay with that, so long as he has his heart stealer at his side to make his heart light up with something other than fear.

♡

Levi sighs as he sets his pencil and calculator down, passing down his completed midterm down the row to be collected by Pixis.

By now, the class has moved on from being as silent as they had been for the testing time, and Levi puts his head down on the table, far too spent to even care that he looks like a fool. “I completely failed that midterm.”

Whether or not he actually did, he has no idea, but the nerves have been eating him up so much that he just can’t help but believe that that’s the truth of the matter.

He feels the light, cheerful pat of your hand on his hair, and he relaxes further into himself at the touch.

“Oh, come on, I’m sure you did better than you think you did.”

Levi leans further into your touch, but not before you take it away to start packing up your things to leave. He groans at the loss of comfort, but he knows he has to get out of this circle of hell as soon as possible, so he lifts his head from the table before stretching his arms upwards and putting away his things.

You’re already standing by the time he’s ready to go, and when he's fully ready, he gets up to lace his fingers between yours and start leading the way to that same café that you'd been going to for the last however many weeks. Just like that very first day you'd met, Levi orders while you find a cozy booth facing the moon, and when his name gets called and he's back with you, tea in hand.

But, unlike that very first encounter, now, you and him are transported to a place where no such feeling of fear exists anymore.

At least for now, there's no immediate fear of a CHEM143 midterm. Levi's allowed a break from the agony of carbon compounds after such an intense exam, and he'll do everything he can to make sure you feel the same way.

Instead, the budding flowers of love and a yearning for something more exist here, blooming in spite of the winter cold. As your teas heat up your already warm, beating hearts, comfort and reliability seep in where fear and misdirected confused once resided in Levi's soul.

And, as the days and weeks and months and the rest of eternity passed, it came to be that fate would let that feelings become something so much greater, so much richer, so much more sentimental, so much more loving.

But, truly, what Levi meant to say was:

Levi isn't scared of anything anymore.

Sure, he might've been scared of second CHEM143 midterm, and, sure, he might be fucking terrified of going to the butcher now, but...

When he looks over at you, his love who fills his life with such lively colors and passion for something unknown,  Levi isn't scared to face anything.

Not even meat cleavers, and certainly not heart stealers.

[hmshermitcraft]

Jimmy loves scary movies. They don't scare him the way they used to, but he loves how he can keep a straight face during even the most sudden jumpscare.

But when Tango suggests they watch a scary movie together for Halloween, it's the perfect opportunity for Jimmy to cuddle up to his friend (that he's definitely not crushing on) out of "fear"

Tango is doing his best to hold it together for Jimmy, but he's terrified of every sound and dark corner. Luckily, Jimmy's screams of terror are louder than his. And when else is he going to get a chance to hold Jimmy like this?

Jimmy knows he's not the best at a lot of things, but he is a great actor. And it's cute seeing Tango like this. Jimmy knows if he was doing his usual straight face that Tango would act all tough to impress him.

Jimmy doesn't care about that! Jimmy just cares about how close Tango is pressed against him, and the way they laugh at themselves after squealing.

Jimmy is trying to think of second date hang out ideas, but Tango beats him to the punch by suggesting a haunted house. Now that can only go perfectly.

[sadie-bug345]

Ok one more I need outsiders Halloween hcs (costumes, what they do on Halloween, like go to parties, trick or treating, or staying in and watching scary movies) etc. THANK YOU IM DYING I LOVE YOUR WORK

OMG SHUT UP i just checked out your blog and you seem so cool😭🥰

what the gang does on halloween!!

yall im fr missing this time of year 😭🫢

ponyboy: - he only wants to go trick or treating if friends are going - probably gets pooped after like an hour🙄🖐️ - he seems like the type to dress up as a niche character from a show, movie, or book - and the SECOND anyone asks him abt it he will be like “😃i’ll tell you all about it!!” - LMAO its super cute though - he probably really likes handing out candy to kids though - he’d give a bunch of candy to kids with the coolest costumes in his humble opinion - he’s a blast to hang out with tho.

johnny: - prob get really into his costume, he’d go all out with makeup - lmao he’s giving like joker vibes and dallyd be batman or smth😭 - like pony, he’d only go trick or treating or out to parties if his friends pressure him to - if it was his choice he’d be perfectly content chillin on the couch with some snacks and a scary movie - i feel like he’d like poltergeist (this is my personal fave horror movie so im projecting lmfao) - the type to have a total straight face during the movie but he’s QUAKING.

sodapop: - he a partier for sure - probably have some goofy ahh matching costume with steve - like they’d kill it with the ghostbusters costumes - if he does hand out candy he’d be over here hyping up kids costumes which is so sweet - he’d pretend to get all scared when some kid yells “boo!” at him😭🫶 - just good vibes all around ngl

darry: - in high school he’d def go to parties and stuff - but now he only goes to supervise the loose cannons of the gang (dallas) - he’d probably wear a shirt that says “this is my costume” or smth - when he’s not making sure everyone’s making decent decisions he’s at home handing out candy - he got a special bowl for rude kids that just has like toothbrushes and raisins in it 😭😭

dally: - i feel like he’d begrudgingly match costumes with his friends - secretly loves it tho don’t tell him i said that - goes to some parties for a bit just to make his necessary appearance - but gets bored after a bit and goes to wreak some havoc in the neighborhoods - steals candy, ransacks those haunted houses people set up in their garages, scares kids, you name it, dallas the menace has done it - it’s a lot of fun but also concerning like wow you really like giving kids traumatizing core memories?? 😧

two-bit: - ONLY joke costumes - i can see him in onesies, inflatable costumes, just anything that makes someone crack a smile - most likely a partier, if he does stay home and watch movies he’s secretly scared - the type to make fun of anything the characters are doing - lemme tell you he is RELENTLESS - like he’s lowk coming up with a whole plan just in case he’s in that horror movie situation - “so first, i’d get the bat i hide underneath my bed at all times and then get my emergency flashlight and slide on a mattress down the stairs and out the door and-“ - and you’re just like “🧍‍♀️” - LMAOOO.

steve: - he will probably get so hyped up at parties - matching with sodapop duh - super fun ngl - he and soda will just dare each other to do dumb crap and they’ll actually do it - meanwhile everyone is just staring with admiration and concern in their eyes lmaoo - probably pigs out on candy at three am but don’t we all😭🫶

cherry: - this girl will pull up with the cutest but also most random costume ever LMAOO - like ponyboy it’s probably super niche and no one really expect cherry to wear it - everyone expects her to just be a hot zombie cheerleader or smth - she said she’s too iconic for that😔🖐️ - she’s honestly the kinda gal to just hang out at home if she had it her way - but hates scary movies so like she’ll watch half and just have a breakdown and switch it to my little pony - she’s so funny and sweet to the kids trick or treating - if she sees some littler kids getting bullied she’d swoop in and steal their candy like a superhero or smth LMAO.

thanks so much for requesting again! this was a lot of fun!❤️‼️

[kana2025]

Jaehyun x Reader | Spooky Serenade

Word Count: 100+

Genres: Romance, Halloween themed

Synopsis: During a Halloween party filled with spooky decorations and a haunted house, you and your boyfriend Jaehyun navigate through scares and thrills, finding solace in each other's embrace. As the night unfolds, your shared love turns the eerie evening into a magical experience, proving that every Halloween is better together.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

The invitation had promised a night filled with spooky decorations, themed cocktails, and a haunted house setup in the backyard. Jaehyun, ever the playful one, had suggested that you go as a famous couple. After much deliberation, you settled on Jack and Sally from "The Nightmare Before Christmas." The matching costumes were perfect and added a whimsical touch to the spooky season.

On the night of the party, you arrived at Jaehyun’s apartment to get ready together. He greeted you at the door, already in his Jack Skellington suit, complete with face paint that made him look eerily accurate.

“You look amazing!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. “Ready to get spooky?”

“Only if you promise not to scare me too much,” you teased, tapping his painted nose.

“Can’t make any promises,” he laughed, leading you inside.

You spent the next hour perfecting your Sally makeup, with Jaehyun helping you with the stitches and colors. By the time you were done, you both looked like you had stepped right out of Halloween Town. You couldn’t help but admire Jaehyun’s handiwork in the mirror.

“I think we might win the best couple costume award tonight,” you said, smiling at your reflection.

“With you by my side, how could we not?” he replied, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

The party was already in full swing when you arrived. The house was decorated with cobwebs, fake spiders, and dim lighting that gave everything an eerie glow. You mingled with friends, enjoying the spooky atmosphere and the creative costumes everyone had put together.

As the night progressed, it was time to venture into the haunted house. Jaehyun held your hand tightly, his excitement palpable. You entered the backyard, which had been transformed into a dark, winding maze filled with jump scares and creepy decorations.

“Stay close,” Jaehyun whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “I’ll protect you.”

You laughed, feeling both excited and nervous. The haunted house was everything you expected and more. Actors dressed as ghouls and monsters jumped out at every turn, eliciting screams and laughter from both of you. Jaehyun kept his promise, keeping you close and shielding you from the worst of the scares.

However, as you turned a corner, a particularly convincing ghost lunged at you from the shadows. You let out a genuine scream, gripping Jaehyun’s hand tightly. He pulled you into a comforting embrace, whispering soothing words to calm your racing heart.

“You okay?” he asked, concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, just caught me off guard,” you admitted, feeling your pulse slow down.

“Let’s take a break,” he suggested, leading you to a quieter part of the yard where you could catch your breath.

Sitting on a bench, you looked around at the spooky decorations and the twinkling lights. The night was cool, and the atmosphere was perfect for Halloween. Jaehyun wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close.

“You know, Halloween wouldn’t be the same without you,” he said softly. “I love how we can be silly and scared together, and still have the best time.”

You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder. “I feel the same way. Every year gets better because of you.”

Jaehyun leaned in, capturing your lips in a sweet, tender kiss. The world around you seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you in that moment. When you finally pulled away, you saw the love and adoration in his eyes, making your heart swell with happiness.

“Let’s go back inside,” he suggested, helping you up. “There’s still more fun to be had.”

As you rejoined the party, you felt a renewed sense of joy. Halloween had always been special, but with Jaehyun, it was magical. Whether you were laughing at ridiculous costumes, getting spooked in a haunted house, or sharing quiet moments together, every part of the night was perfect because you were with him.

And as the night came to a close, you knew that no matter what scares or surprises came your way, you could face them all with Jaehyun by your side. Your haunted hearts beat in unison, creating a love story that was anything but ordinary.