#v: chasing down library books

[thewonandonly]

BE MY MISTAKE

PLAYLIST : spotify

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

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

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

WC : 12,670 words

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I can help you!" He chuckled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't sound like that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, baby."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Jeno," You sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Stop making it sexual."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Jen..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Understandable.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“For what?”

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

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

“I love you.”

“I love you, Jeno.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet, you could feel your mind drifting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Jen, I was just-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I never said I did."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She rised from the chair, grabbing the cover.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s sad.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’d the wash go?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, she could hardly sleep last night.”

“Babe,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You... You—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Jeno, please stop!" You screamed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Jeno..."

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

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

"You're hurt."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nope. Only those victims in the seats."

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

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

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

copyright © 2024 thewonandonly. all rights reserved.

[zaldritzosrose]

Sanguine Obsession (Vampire!Aemond x Human!Reader)

Before I got into my usual summary, this fic is part of a collab with a bunch of my lovely moots! @lady-phasma came to us with an ask about period sex and Daemon and being as lovely as she is, she offered us all the chance to collab on it. Choosing our own characters and how to play the story.

Please find the masterlist of everyone's fics here.

All boards included are made by yours truly!

Summary: The Targaryens are well known for their supernatural existence, and you are one of many brought into the service of Prince Aemond - a vampire. When you moon's blood surprises you, the Prince acts in a way you could never have expected.

TW: MINORS DNI, she/her pronouns, afab reader, mentions of vampiric feeding, mentions of blood, menophilia (period kink), oral (fem receiving), p in v sex, Aemond as a vampire (could be a warning in and of itself), period sex.

Words: 3088

Serving Prince Aemond Targaryen was an honour, to you and your family at least. On the outside, the Targaryens were ordinary royals, save for the dragon riding, of course.

But there was something deeper and darker within the family. Like a dark shadow that hung over the Red Keep, an apt name for the home of supernatural beings. The Targaryens had ruled through blood and immortality for centuries, and you were not the first to serve the One-Eyed Prince. Not all the dragon-blooded royals were vampiric, though each one of them was not entirely human.

The call had come just less than a month ago. A letter bearing the seal of House Targaryen arriving to your father. Though it was phrased as a question, it was clear there was only one answer to the request.

We request your eldest daughter to serve at the side of Prince Aemond, as have many that have come before her. She will be well cared for and protected whilst in the Prince’s service.

Your father had not hesitated. Informing you immediately that preparations were to be made for your travel to the capital.

Now, it was almost two full months since you had arrived at the Keep. Prince Aemond was stoic, but not unkind. In fact, you had soon found his presence an odd comfort. Sitting with him in the library as he read, fetching whichever book he needed. Watching him train under the shadow of the evening, becoming his most fervent supporter every time.

You had known what the Targaryens were before you came into the Prince’s service. Every citizen in Westeros knew, it was not a secret they kept hidden. The family mostly kept stores of blood within the Keep, preferring the convenience of it over hunting. Others, however, chose to hunt, choosing their prey and hunting ground carefully to avoid large populations.

Prince Aemond was the latter. Choosing to hunt wherever he could but there was one task he had never forced upon you. There were times when the Prince was unable to hunt, and he always seemed dissatisfied with drinking stored blood from a goblet. He never said it openly, but the prince enjoyed the chase, the feeling of bringing down his prey and feeding fresh.

In those times, you could see the war in him. When he would look at you with a hunger, or more specifically your throat. Watching the pulse of your veins when you would lean close to hand him his next cup. And eventually, you had picked up the courage to ask.

“My prince, if there is something else you need of me, please say?” you had asked softly, trying to keep your nerve.

Aemond had only hummed low, a sound you were so used to hearing, but you knew he was avoiding answering you.

You had knelt at his side, hands resting on the arm of his chair.

“Please, I feel I know what it is you need. You have not been able to hunt for weeks…”

That had been the push he had needed. From then on, when he could not hunt, he would ask to feed from you. And you agreed, every time. Finding yourself often curled in the Prince’s lap as he sank his teeth into your flesh and drank his fill. He was always gentle during these times, the way he would hold you as he fed bordering on romance. Always in his embrace, bodies pressed impossibly close.

Even the Prince would eventually admit, you were the first of his servants that had ever offered their blood to him, an act that had both shocked and enamoured him to you. But he had never admitted that this act of service had, without a doubt, furthered the desire he had felt the moment he saw you.

For the first month of your service, you had managed to avoid the Prince during your moon’s blood. Seemingly coinciding with his hunting routine. His mother and sister had helped you stay out of his presence by claiming to need you for other tasks. He had never questioned it, with his mother explaining that he knew the reason, and understood why they took such measures.

This month, however, you were unprepared. The Queen and the Princess were visiting their Hightower kin in Oldtown. There was no one around to help you with the unexpected surprise. You tried your best to complete your tasks for the Prince while spending as little time in his presence as possible. Something he noticed immediately.

Every morning you would hide spare smallclothes within your gown, knowing that at any point in the day you might need them. Taking extra rags from the Maester to make sure you did not risk leaving the blood-stained cloth on your body too long.

But what you did not know was that Aemond had noticed. In reality, he could smell it days before you bled. A small change in scent that told him what was to come. He did his best, this time, to ignore it. Knowing you had no choice but to remain at his side. He was not due to hunt for another two days. But the scent of you was becoming more and more tempting.

It all came to a head when you did not appear in the library that morning. Aemond always read during the daytime, the library drapes heavy enough to block out all the sunlight. He gave you a little time, knowing from his books that a woman’s bloods could take a toll physically and he knew better than to expect you to ignore your own health for his sake.

But when another hour passed, he felt concern gnawing at him. Closing his book, Aemond made quick work of the walk to your chambers. He had not even reached the door before he could smell it.

The coppery scent filling his nostrils and making his mouth water. He stood stock still at your door, his thirst begging him to enter and take his fill. But his concern for you demanded he find a way to fix whatever had made you late.

“My lady?” was all he could muster, his hand resting on the handle.

Inside, you froze. That morning you had woken to what could only be described as a bloodbath. The deep red liquid having stained your sheets and nightgown through the night. Cleaning up the aftermath was taking far longer than you expected.

“M-My Prince, I…Please do not come in,” Your voice was frantic as you folded the soiled sheets and stuffed them into the sack you would take down to the washroom.

Just the tone of your voice had Aemond even more concerned. The need for politeness soon lost to his concern as he pushed the door open despite your protests. When he entered, the scent near overtook him. And not just the blood. A smell akin to fear on you.”

“I…” You could not form a single word. There seemed to be no connection between your mind and your mouth.

Aemond’s jaw locked tight, doing everything he could not to inhale if he did not need to. His eye scanned the room. The scent lingered at the sack by the door, which he assumed held your sheets. But the copper tang was greatest around you, and he could see the scrubbed spots where you had tried to clean your stained skin.

“You are…bleeding.” He said, barely forming it as a question, his voice tight with restraint.

You could see the faint push of his fangs against his lip as he spoke. A sight you only saw moments before he would feed from you. In this moment, it was the first time you seemed to fear him.

“I apologise…I..I tried to clean it but…”

The words died on your lips when you saw Aemond staring only at your stained nightdress. The memory of your conversation with his mother ringing in your mind.

“One thing you must know, my dear, your moon’s blood will smell far different to the blood that flows in your veins. It will be much more intense of a scent. More enticing,” the Queen explained before continuing on with the plans they had in place to help female servants of the family during that time of the month.

Now, it all made sense. You had never seen Aemond like this, except when his teeth were pierced deep into your neck, or any other flesh he had chosen for a feed. Yet, you still felt no true fear. Nothing about the Prince had ever caused that feeling in you.

Aemond however, had no thought in his mind except your scent. The deep red that stained your skin. The points of his fangs almost piercing his teeth in preparation of drinking.

“Is this why you were late this morning?” he asked, his eye finally meeting yours, the pupil blown wide, eclipsing the ice blue of his iris. All the air left your lungs and your hesitation seemed to frustrate him.

“Answer me,” he growled, taking a purposeful step towards you.

“Yes, my prince. It was unexpected, and I could not leave behind such a mess and there was no time to clean...”

You were stopped short when Aemond closed the distance between you. You would often forget he was not human, but the speed at which he appeared in front of you abruptly reminded you of it. You held your breath as his head dipped to press his nose against your neck. You could feel the puffs of air on your neck as he seemed to fight himself for control.

“I could smell it. Every moment for the last three days…”

The curve of his nose pressed against your neck, nuzzling over the spot he had bit you so many times before. And you could not hide your shiver as he growled again.

“You smell so sweet…”

You wanted to move, to back away and put as much space between you and the Prince as you could. But your body was working against you. Instead, leaning closer into his form as he breathed you in again.

It was only when you whimpered as the sharp, cramping pain in your lower body reared itself again, that Aemond snapped out of his reverie.

“It hurts, does it not?” he asked, and you could only nod, feeling Aemond smile against the skin of your neck. His entire presence was intoxicating, and every ounce of self-preservation had long left you.

“There are ways to relieve the pain. I read about them, fascinating really,” he mused, and you opened your mouth to ask what he could possibly mean.

You had an inkling, having read some books yourself. And the implication of what he was referring to had your heart hammering in your chest.

Aemond’s arm snaked around your waist and pulled you flush against his chest. The bloodthirst inside him threatened to take over with every second he was close to you. You were almost hypnotised by him, wondering if this is how his victims felt when he hunted them down. Hazy, drawn into his embrace without any control of their actions.

Your silence made him chuckle, and he could already smell not only the blood but the slick that pooled between your thighs at his touch.

“Do you want me to help, sweet girl?” Aemond whispered, his lips now brushing against the skin of your ear.

You nodded gently but that was not enough for him.

“Words, I need your words,” His tone now a little more of a command than before.

You swallowed loud before answering, your voice barely more than a breathy sigh.

“Yes, my prince.”

That was all he needed. His hands were surprisingly gentle as he walked you back towards your bed. The sheets had been hastily changed moments before Aemond had entered your room, but that seemed to matter little.

Aemond made quick work of your nightdress, making your breath hitch when he pressed his nose into the sanguine stains. And the groan he released at the heady scent had your thighs clenching together. The dress was quickly discarded as Aemond returned his attention to you.

It was only then that you became quickly aware that you were entirely bare whilst Aemond was still fully clothed. Before you could even reach out for the clasps on his leather tunic, Aemond had the garment tugged open and on the floor, leaving him in only his light shirt and breeches. It was not the first time you had seen him dressed more casually, there were times you would enter his chamber of a morning or after he had trained to see him dressed quiet casually.

But this, without a doubt, was different.

“The books say,” Aemond began, using some of his vampiric strength to move you with ease up the bed, “that finding your release helps with the pain of a moon’s blood…”

You bit back a moan as he spread your thighs, the coolness of his skin quickly soothing the warmth in your body that was always brought on by your monthly bleed. Aemond hummed to himself as the full scent of you was revealed to him, his mouth watering as he saw the sticky trails of your bleed on the skin of your thighs and the flesh of your core.

“My prince…” you whined, not really sure anymore what you were asking for.

You wanted to hide yourself from his gaze, feeling like prey trapped in the claws of a predator, that singular blue iris staring you down as he took a deep inhale. Just his closeness was enough to distract you from the dull ache of the muscles in your hips and down. Aemond, on the other hand, was drunk on your scent alone, the sweet, metallic tang filling his nostrils and making his head spin.

You gasped at the cool touch of his fingers against your slit, tensing as he dipped an experimental finger in between your folds. Taking his time and letting your body relax into the intrusion. It went against everything he was to not devour you there and then. His mouth watering the closer he got.

His fingers pushed inside you slowly, his eye staring intently as the mix of your blood and slick pooled around his fingers with each movement. Aemond could already feel you relaxing, the muscles in your thighs already less tense on either side of his head.

But he needed more. The beast within crying out for a taste. Warring with the human need to bring you as much pleasure as he could. He had always found you beautiful and the dutiful way you served him was simply an extra boon.

“Will you allow me a taste, sweet girl? Let me bring us both satisfaction?”

His voice was so low and so smooth it had you sighing out in pleasure. Your hips already canting themselves closer to him.

“Yes, please,” you said softly, eyes already closing as Aemond’s fingers trailed small patterns either side of where you needed him most. Never close to where you needed him.

His eye found yours, and the look told you that he needed something else.

“My…my prince please, I need it...I need you…” you begged, the only thought in your head now was feeling him.

You felt him smirk against your skin as his title fell from your lips. He could get used to hearing it that way, so soft and breathy with pleasure.

You had anticipated either the return of his fingers or even the feel of his tongue. Instead, you felt the push of his face against you, burying his face as close as he could get. As if he wanted nothing more than to inhale the scent of you. But you could not hide the depraved moan that slipped from your lips when his tongue finally breached your entrance.

Aemond groaned against you. He had tasted your blood before, but nothing like this. It was like he was consuming the very essence of you. Everything tasted stronger and it took every ounce of control he had to not sink his teeth in as well. The wet sounds of his tongue between your folds should have made you blush, but you were too lost in your pleasure. His hands held your hips tight, planting you to the bed as he devoured your bleeding cunt.

“Yes, oh, my prince…oh…” Your words verged on incoherent but every time his title spilled from you, Aemond growled and renewed his movements with even more vigour.

Soon you were arching your back, pushing your hips down towards him before Aemond’s hands planted you back to the bed. His grip was strong, tugging you down and burying his tongue as deep as it would go. Lapping up everything you gave him. He could feel your blood and arousal spilling down his chin as you reach your peak, soaking into the fabric of his undershirt. But he could not get enough. Only when he could feel you desperately try to pull away did he slow himself down.

“That’s it…oh my sweet girl…” he cooed, pressing blood tinted kisses to your thighs before pulling away.

You were lost. Head hazy and heart hammering as you slowly came down from your high. And your cheeks flushed as you locked eyes with your Prince. His icy iris staring up at you, pale skin stained the deepest red with the mix of your blood and your juices.

Aemond softened when he saw your body relax. He was as satisfied as you were now. His pleasure was your pleasure. His fingers were quick to bring the wayward drips from his lips and chin to his mouth, not wasting a drop. Your taste was like nothing he had experienced, even now. He had never fed this way before, and he was already desperate to do so again.

“Do you feel better?”

The question made you sit up on your elbows and you could not help but smile down at him. The ache in your thighs and stomach was gone. Your body flushed but relaxed.

“Yes, my prince, thank you,”

Aemond crawled up your body, bringing you close and urging you to curl into him. Now, it was his turn to serve you. His loyal servant, more than deserving of the same care in return. And he internally vowed to keep you at his side, especially during your bloods. He could not deny it.

He was obsessed.

@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @khaleesihel @multyfangirl

@thenameswinter99 @legitalicat @tumblin-theworldaway

if you want to be tagged, please let me know!

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

Cherry Bomb (pt. 3)

Remus Lupin x f!reader, James Potter x f!reader (mentioned), Sirius Black x f!reader (mentioned)

warnings: smut, p in v, i think it’s protected atp idk, fingering, underage smoking, very dom remus, long af but omg i’m so in love with it

summary: the last part of your plan is far harder to achieve than the first two and it’s far more complicated.

word count: 5k

a/n: ahhh here’s the last part (i think?) anyway sorry it’s long i got carried away but ugh i love remus so much. sorry if my characterization is off, ever since atyd i see him as sarcastic. yeah i love this, hope you guys do too :)

~~~

Out of all the marauders, Remus Lupin was by far the most liked. He was quiet, but not invisible. He was the most sensible out of all the boys and the most polite. Though he did tend to be witty and sarcastic, he was kind at heart. But he was also the hardest one to get close to. Quiet, reserved, beautiful Remus with his nose always stuck in a book. There was always something about him that made girls fall fast. But that was the thing. It was always so easy to fall in love with him. So, if one ever wanted to shag Remus Lupin, they would have to deal with the consequences of loving him. Because he was nothing like his mates. He didn’t shag just anyone. No. He had to choose you. And to be chosen by him was the biggest accomplishment and the biggest curse. Because once you get him, you will never want to let him go.

~~~

Avoiding two of the marauders is nearly impossible. Each corner you turn it seems you run into one of them, or both. And each time their eyes find you they show the same expressions. Confusion. Frustration. Perhaps even a bit of sadness. You debate throwing away the entire plan daily. It’s unfair, the way you’re playing with their minds. But the lingering knowledge that you’re so close to completing the plan entirely keeps you going. Because surely, all your hurt feelings can’t be for nothing.

Right?

You speak to James only once after your shag in the broom closet. It’s a week or two after, he’s been chasing you around, and you’ve been avoiding him. But you decide he deserves some amount of closure. Sweet, lovely, innocent James. You find him alone in the library and take your opportunity. The way he smiles when he sees you approaching makes your heart ache terribly and regret fills your stomach.

“Y/n I’ve been trying to catch you, how are you?” He asks once you’re close enough to hear his quiet tone.

He looks so happy, you feel sick.

“Yeah, I just you know… haven’t been feeling too great,” you lie.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Sit if you’d like, I’ve been attempting to study for the potions test. Aren’t you good with potions? Could you help me possibly?”

You inhale deeply. You could really use a cigarette right now. You’ve broken things off with guys before, but this feels different. In the other cases, you’ve had reasons. For this case though, you have none. James is innocent in all of this. It makes you nauseous.

“Listen, James,” you start, your voice soft. “What happened was great, I enjoyed it a lot, but it was a mistake. I like you, you’re very sweet, but I don’t think we should do anything else.”

Watching his face fall is by far the most horrid sight you’ve ever seen. All the happiness fades fast and leaves behind a bitter frown. He looks down at his papers, toying with his quill.

“I see…” He looks back up, a fake smile on his lips. “That’s alright, it was fun. I’m not really looking for anything serious like that either, so I understand.”

You swallow hard. “I really do like you James, believe me, but it’s just not the right time for this.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine.”

“And...” You pause for a second. “You won’t tell anyone?”

He nods. “Not a soul. This will be our little secret.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“Well then, I’ll let you get back to your potions. Thanks for... everything.” You give him one last smile before turning on your heels and making your way out of the library.

You almost put an end to it right then and there, but then you see the tallest marauder walking down the hall with Peter. His hands are in his pockets, his book bag slung over one of his shoulders. For a split second his eyes meet yours as the two of you pass each other.

He gives you a small awkward smile.

Fuck.

~~~

To catch Remus Lupin alone you must take the risk of losing your house some points. You wait a week before making your move, for safety. After your conversation with James, the only marauder to pay attention to you is Sirius. He’s still set on telling everyone that the two of you shagged, but thankfully, not many people believe him. Not even his best mates.

It’s a very quiet night when you sneak out after curfew. A night you know one particular prefect is doing rounds on his own. You wander through the castle quietly, making sure to avoid the areas in which teachers lurk. Goosebumps form on your skin, you should’ve worn more than a tee-shirt and sweatpants, but you needed to look casual.

As you’re about to turn a corner, you spot Filch. Panic surfaces inside you and you quickly turn around and run as quietly as you can down the hall. You take a few turns and just as you’re about to relax, you hear a voice.

“It’s past curfew, what are you doing out here?”

Your heart stops for a completely different reason.

It’s him.

You turn to face him and shyly smile. You watch his face change as he recognizes you.

“Oh, it’s you.” He narrows his eyes. “Off to shag my mate again, are you?”

“I never shagged him,” you reply, crossing your arms over your chest. “And I’m out for a completely different reason.”

“What reason is that?”

You shrug. “Personal reason.”

“Ah well, hope it was worth losing your dear Ravenclaws ten points. Get back to your dorm before someone else catches you,” he says, turning away from you.

You watch as he walks down the hall, not giving you another thought. You would’ve replied sarcastically if you could speak for that matter. Once he disappears, all you can do is shamefully make your way back to your house's common room, now understanding why James likes being a chaser.

~~~

Some time passes before you get Remus alone. Each time you see him during the day, he’s accompanied by one of the marauders and you can’t sneak out during his rounds again because your fellow Ravenclaws were not pleased. You’re smoking behind the castle when you happen to finally catch him walking alone. You immediately take your chance.

“Lupin!” You call out to him. You get up from the bench you were sitting on and walk to him.

Thankfully, he stops walking and turns back to face you. “Y/l/n. Is there something I can help you with?”

You can tell from the tone of his voice he’s trying to be polite; it makes your insides warm.

“Yeah, actually there is. I was wondering if you could help me with my transfiguration essay. You’re the smartest lad in the year,” you answer, taking a small puff of your cigarette. You hold it up to offer him a hit, he shakes his head.

“Those things will kill you,” he says. “But I suppose I can help a bit. I assume you’re free right now?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Let me take a look.”

A smirk forms on your lips, and you let out a breath of smoke purposely into his face. “Take a girl to dinner first.”

He swats the air, fanning away the smoke. “Are you going to show me or not? I have things to take care of.”

“Sorry.” You hate the way your face burns. “Come see.”

The two of you make your way to the bench and you take out your essay. Truthfully, you are already finished with it, and you think your work is good. But much to your dismay, only a few seconds after he starts reading it, Remus takes out a muggle pen and begins crossing things off.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your spelling is shit, and you’ve contradicted your argument at least twice already and I’m only on the second paragraph,” he answers, his eyes glued to the paper. “Maybe if you spent more time studying than shagging and smoking, you’d have this information down. We reviewed it a few weeks ago.”

You scoff. “I have not been shagging.”

“Sure,” he mumbles, crossing off another sentence.

“I swear, Sirius is mistaken.” You lie.

He turns his head, his green eyes meeting yours. “Who said I was referring to Sirius?”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you cough due to the smoke. Is he talking about James? Your heart rate increases, and anxiety flows throughout your body. Did James tell? You catch your breath, your eyes meeting his again. He looks unamused.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t shagged anyone in months, not that it’s your business,” you say.

“You should really practice more on your lying; you are shit at it.” He hands your essay back to you and stands. “I left a few notes of some things you should change, but my biggest suggestion is that you reread the textbook, and perhaps find some more... enticing quotes. Is that all then? Like I said, I’ve got some other business to tend to.”

For a few seconds, all you can do is stare up at him, your mouth hung open ever so slightly. You previously thought Remus Lupin to be a timid boy who went along with the rest of the marauders because he couldn’t say no. Now though, you realize all those assumptions are wrong. He’s quiet, but not timid.

“What do you know?” You question.

“Quite a lot, thanks for the chat.”

Before you can even think of a response, he’s already walking away. You can’t let him slip away again.

“I’ll get it out of you Remus Lupin if it’s the last thing I do!”

He turns his head over his shoulder and chuckles, the sound sending warmth straight to your core. “We’ll see.”

And just like that, he’s gone, and you’re left flustered with rosy cheeks.

You did save the best for last.

~~~

Falling for the third marauder is easier than anything. Almost unconsciously, you begin to fail classes so that he can help you with work, you learn his route around the castle to see him at least once a day, and you sneak around the castle some nights, but he always ends up finding you somehow.

One night, a little over a month after you’ve started your game, something unexpected happens. You’re out after curfew once again, tiptoeing around the castle to see where the tallest prefect is when he appears from behind you. Like usual, he crosses his arms and clears his throat, making you quickly spin on your heels to face him. How does he always sneak up on you?

“How many times am I going to catch you before you start following the rules? I’m sure your fellow Ravenclaws aren’t too pleased with you,” he says. You look up at him, a genuine blush on your face. He narrows his eyes. “You want me to catch you, don’t you?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You look away nervously. The plan never involved gaining real feelings for any of the marauders, yet here you were. Standing in your sleepwear after curfew with your heart racing in your chest at the mere sight of one of them. Though you try to deny it, you know deep down you’re crushing hard, and you know it will only end badly.

“I uh... I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m just on a little stroll back from a smoke that’s all,” you reply after a few seconds, your hands anxiously fiddling with one another.

He rolls his eyes. “Listen, I don’t know what your objective is or has been, but whatever it is it’s not going to happen.”

“Remus I-”

“Sirius, I understand, he would sleep with the giant squid if it had tits. But James, really? He may be more of an... active person than myself but he has far more feelings than you think.” He takes a step forward; he towers over you. You swear you can’t breathe. “You may have fooled them, but you don’t fool me. I can see right through you y/l/n and you’re sick.”

You move backward; he follows each step. “You... you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?”

Your back hits a wall, panic rises in you. Your eyes fall to his hands, and a bit of relief washes over you when you see he’s not holding his wand. But then another thought takes over. Is he going to hit you? When you look back up, he’s only inches away from you, his hazel eyes piercing down into yours. He places one of his hands on the wall next to your head. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble, really. I’m sorry,” you mumble, your words genuine.

“So, what was your goal then? To shag all of us and take your pick of who’s best? Peter would’ve been far easier than James you know,” he replies.

“It was just a stupid idea, I don’t know. It didn’t mean anything deeper I swear.” You’re rambling now, the threat of tears evident in the burning of your eyes. You try your hardest to keep any from falling, you can’t cry in front of Remus.

He sighs. “You’re lucky Sirius is oblivious, and James is trusting. If they knew the truth, you’d have the whole school against you.”

“Wait, they don’t know?”

He rolls his eyes again. “Of course not. If they knew you’d be getting hexed almost all day every day.”

“Then how do you know?”

“I notice a lot more than people think. Did you honestly think no one saw you go up to our dorm with Sirius that night at the party? And did you honestly think none of us would notice James’s change in attitude? You think you know more than you actually do,” he explains.

For a few seconds, the two of you only stare at each other. You don’t know what to think. You should’ve known this would happen. Someone was going to catch on. You wish you had never done it. Any of it. Everything would be so much simpler if you’d simply stayed the quiet Ravenclaw girl who never interacted with the marauders. But you can’t go back, no matter how much you wish you could. You can only make it right moving forward.

“I’m sorry, truly Remus.” There’s so much more you want to say, but you can’t. You can’t fathom the words.

“If you’re truly sorry, stop. I won’t be the next pawn in your game,” he says, his voice slightly lower than before. You watch the way his eyes shift, the way he licks his lips, and moves his head down so he’s almost eye level with you. Your breath catches in your throat. “I suppose I pity you though because you and I both know this has become more than a game to you now.”

You turn your head, but he grabs your chin and forces you to look him in the eye.

“You fancy me.”

“I-”

“Don’t try to deny it. Like I said, I can see right through you.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s over now,” you whisper, a tear nearly escaping one of your eyes.

He inhales deeply and you notice his eyes trail over your body for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “You’re right. It is over now.”

He lets go of you and backs away and for the first time since encountering him tonight, you feel like you can breathe normally. You stay on the wall, silently catching your breath as he walks further down the hall. But just before he’s about to turn a corner, he looks back at you.

“Or perhaps it’s simply my turn to play with you. Oh, and that’s twenty points from Ravenclaw. Goodnight.”

You fall asleep with his words burning in the back of your mind, and an ache between your thighs.

~~~

After that night, everything is different. You try to avoid them all and go back to the way things were before, you really do. You scribble out the page in your journal with their names, you keep your head down in the halls, and you skip the parties they host. It’s Remus who’s begun playing. Somehow, he continues knowing where you are and appears at random times. Whether you’re studying in the library, and he just so happens to need a book from that section, or you’re out by the lake with your friends and he walks by. You know it’s intentional, but it still manages to leave you hot and bothered each time.

“I thought you said the plan was off?” Your friend says one particular day when the two of you are eating lunch.

You look at her, confused. “It is.”

“Then why has Lupin been staring at you this whole meal?”

Instinctively, you look across the Great Hall and immediately catch those all-too-familiar hazel eyes. He doesn’t look away, at least, not for a moment. He stares at you with no shame, and even from the distance you can sense something different from the look in his eyes. Before you can fully figure it out though, he turns his attention back to the other three marauders.

“Did you shag him?” Your friend asks.

“No, I told you what happened,” you answer, focusing your attention back on the food on your plate. “I wish he’d stop.”

Your friend laughs. “Nah, you don’t.”

You hate how she’s right.

~~~

Nearly two months have passed when you finally confront Remus.

You’re sitting in the astronomy tower, a cigarette between your lips, and a scowl on your face. You can’t take it any longer. Wasn’t he the one who told you off? Wasn’t he the one who told you to stop the games? He was. You know it. So, why has he kept it going? He had said that it was his turn, but that was many weeks ago. How long did he plan to keep this going? You let out a cloud of smoke, frustration taking over your body at the thoughts.

“How many points shall I take off tonight? Forty? Fifty?” You feel him sit next to you, but you refuse to look at him. “You haven’t been out after dark in a while though, I’ll give you that.”

“What do you want Lupin?” You ask, annoyed.

He chuckles. “What do any of us want really?”

You look at him with a straight face, hating the way butterflies take over your stomach at the sight of him so close to you. Despite the scars on his face, you find him more beautiful than any boy. More than James, even more than Sirius. There is something so extraordinary about Remus you can’t explain. You wish it would go away.

“Why can’t you leave me alone?” You question after taking another drag from the cigarette.

“I haven’t spoken to you in over a month, I don’t know what-”

“Yes, you know what I mean.” You cut him off. You exhale your last breath of smoke and throw the cigarette off the tower. “I’m trying to leave this all in the past and move on like you said but you’ve made it quite difficult.”

“Seems you don’t like the taste of your medicine love. It’s hard, isn’t it? Trying to avoid someone when they always seem to end up exactly where you are. It gets rather annoying, doesn’t it? Especially when you secretly enjoy it,” he replies.

Your eyes meet again and that familiar trouble to breathe begins. He’s looking at you in a way you don’t know how to feel about. It’s not like Sirius’s drunken stare or James’s needy stare. No. This one, though the same lustful, is far deeper.

“Just tell me what you want Remus,” you eventually say, your voice lower than before. “What do you want?”

“I want you to get out of my head. I want to look at you and feel nothing. I want everything to go back to how it was before you decided to fuck with my friends and me,” he answers.

You swear your heart stops for a few beats. “Then let all of that happen.”

“You think I haven’t tried?”

You stay silent.

“I never wanted this, any of it.”

You look down. “I know.”

“Don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Merlin, I give up, you win y/n. You bloody win.”

You’re about to ask what he exactly means, but he acts faster. In the blink of an eye, his lips are on yours. You can’t grasp it at first. You’re kissing Remus Lupin; Remus Lupin is kissing you. The boy who unintentionally caught your heart is kissing you. It’s unbelievable, it’s undeniable, and it’s far from underrated. You don’t hesitate to kiss him back, even through your initial shock.

His hands cup your cheeks, his thumbs stroke your skin ever so gently. You wrap your arms around his neck, one of your hands toying with the hair on the back of his head. He’s a good kisser, very good. That’s why when he parts your lips, you protest.

“Why did you-”

“If we’re going to do this, you have to promise me it’s not a game anymore y/n.”

Your head is fuzzy from how intently he’s looking at you. “I promise Remus, that game has been over for a while.”

“You swear it?”

“I do. Do you?”

“Of course.” There are a few seconds of silence before he sighs, one of his fingers now playing with a piece of your hair. “We have to keep it secret.”

“I know,” you say.

He brushes the piece of hair behind your ear, the intimate gesture sending tingles throughout your body. “I don’t want it to be a quick shag either,” he adds.

“What do you want it to be then?”

The smile he gives you makes your stomach flip. “More.”

~~~

More from Remus Lupin is everything.

After that night, the two of you begin something you don’t exactly know how to name. You would call it a secret relationship, but the thought of that gives you a stomachache. The two of you don’t interact during the day, at least not where anyone else can see. He passes you in the hall as if you’re a stranger, but the second he catches you around a corner in an empty hallway he showers you with affection. And at night when the two of you sneak off, he touches you in ways you never thought possible.

He shows you so many new places in the castle you never knew of. Secret passages, secret rooms, all of it. You never question how he knows all of it, you only hold his hand tighter as he guides you. When he suggests a more secluded place to meet, you of course agree. Though, you never expect that place to be the shrieking shack.

“There’s no way you’re serious,” you say. The two of you are outside, near the Whomping Willow. You make sure to stay out of its reach. “The shrieking shack? That place is haunted, the ghosts don’t even go there because of how scary it is.”

“Obviously I’m not Sirius love, you only shagged him once,” he sarcastically replies, rolling his eyes to emphasize his joke.

“Remus.”

“The shrieking shack is not haunted, believe me, that’s only a silly rumor made so that people won’t go to it. Me, James, Sirius, and Peter go all the time. It has a bed, and given our activities I say we utilize that,” he explains.

You bite your lip. “Are you positive?”

He moves a bit closer to you and places a hand on your shoulder, leaning down so he’s at eye level with you. “You know I would never let anything hurt you, you can trust me.”

“Alright, but how are we supposed to get there so late? It’s in Hogsmeade,” you question.

He chuckles. “Haven’t you learned by now the marauders have many secret ways?”

“Yes, but we’re not in the castle right now how are we to- Remus don’t go any closer you’re going to get hurt you-” You pause, your mouth hung open as you watch the whomping willow go completely still. “How did you...”

“Secrets love, now come, it’s getting late,” he says, holding a hand out to you.

You don’t hesitate to take his hand and follow him into the tree, nothing else is said.

Surprisingly, the walk isn’t too long. It’s dark, gloomy, and a bit cold, but it’s not terrible. At the end of the tunnel, there’s a door. Something in Remus’s posture shifts, almost as if he’s anxious. You squeeze his hand to try to reassure him of whatever he needs, he gives you a smile through the dark that makes your cheeks warm.

The shrieking shack isn’t big, not at all. It’s a simple building with a few rooms and a short staircase. Remus brings the two of you to what you presume is the bedroom though the only indicator is a mattress, blanket, and pillow on the floor. There’s a small fireplace in the room as well, shockingly full of wood and some candles placed near the mattress. The entire shack is creaky and dusty, but you don’t mind. As long as there’s no ghosts, it’s perfect. Remus lets go of your hand and moves to start a fire. You sit down on the mattress and light the candles around.

“What do you guys use this place for?” You ask.

“It’s just a place we come to sometimes when we don’t want to be around other people,” he answers. His back is still turned to you, you could stare at it all day. “Sirius was the first one to discover it wasn’t haunted.”

“Oh? How did he find that out?”

“He’s always been the bravest out of us, though I think he just wanted another rule to break.”

You chuckle. “That sounds like him.”

He finally stands and turns to face you, a bright fire burning behind him. “You would know, you shagged him.”

“Oh, shut up,” you say as you slide off your shoes.

He begins to walk to you. “Can I ask you a question?”

“This context doesn’t seem good, but yes you can,” you reply.

“Be completely honest, out of the three of us, who’s the best?”

He’s standing right in front of you now. You look up at him, a coy smile on your lips, and begin to untie his shoelaces. “You are of course.”

“For some reason, I think your answer is biased,” he says with a laugh.

You trail your hands up his legs after he steps out of his sneakers, stopping once you reach his belt buckle. It quickly gets undone. “What would make you say that?”

He laughs again. “Just a hunch I guess.”

Your moment of control is taken fast when he pushes you down on the mattress, his lips attacking yours. It isn’t a lie though; he is the best. Unlike with Sirius and James, you share such deeper feelings for Remus. Each time he touches you, you practically melt into the palm of his hand. He’s caring. He’s gentle, but rough when need be. Though the two of you argue sometimes, it always is resolved with a hug, a kiss, or a shag. So, in the simplest of words, Remus Lupin is the perfect boy in every way.

All your clothes are discarded quickly, his too. He kisses you deeply as he uses his fingers on you. Sometimes you wonder where he’s learned all his skills from, but even thinking about him with another girl has started to make your stomach hurt. Instead, you focus on how good two of his fingers feel inside you. They’re so long, so slender. More than once in class you’ve been completely distracted by the sight of his hands, specifically his fingers, even more specifically when he’s wearing rings on them. They feel just as you imagine, extraordinary.

When you cum, you’re moaning a mess into his mouth, your body shaking. He milks every last bit of your orgasm out of you before stopping. You watch through heavy lids as he sucks his fingers clean of your cum, the sight makes you audibly groan.

“I need you,” you whisper, running one of your hands through his hair.

“Do you?” There’s something in the tone of his voice mixed with the way he’s looking at you that makes your heart ache in your chest.

You nod. “In so many ways Rem.”

“Promise?”

“Always.”

He moves inside you slowly at first, but he finds a decent pace after a few minutes. Because of his height, you weren’t at all surprised at the size of his cock. It’s by far the biggest you’ve ever encountered and the best. Though sometimes it leaves you sore, it always leaves you in a daze of dopamine.

Remus struggles to keep his head at your level as he fucks you. He presses soft kisses to your forehead, one of his hands intertwined with yours. You’ve never felt such intimacy in your life, it almost makes tears form in your eyes.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he says, his voice shaky. “Even if it’s not true.”

“I’m yours, Rem, completely,” you reply. His hips meet yours harder, and you moan. “All yours I’m all yours.”

Neither of you lasts much longer than that.

In the aftermath as the two of you hold each other, he rests his head on your chest. You run your fingers through his hair softly, the sound of his breathing like music to your ears. It’s at this moment you realize just how deeply you care for him. You hate what you did with that silly plan, but you don’t think you’d change it. If ending up in this moment only came from the plan, you’d do it over a million times.

“Is this real?” Remus asks after some time.

You sigh and press a kiss to the top of his head. “Yes. This is real.”

And so, it is.

[blueicequeen19]

Don’t Run

Warnings: primal kink, loss of V, nerdy/innocent reader

I never thought I'd be chasing down a girl. Not me. Never. Girls practcially fell down at my feet for just a scrap of attention but no, here I am chasing down the cute, nerdy, insecure, virgin who's got my head in such knots I can't think anymore.

I've searched for her for days and I only just recently found out that she works evenings closing the tiny local library we have. Now, she's running from me as I slip in through the door before she can lock it and I lock it behind me instead. We weren't leaving until I was done.

"Y/N! Don't make me chase you!" I shout, making my way through the stacks of books and towards the sound of her retreating footsteps.

"Just go away! I don't want to see you!" She yells back. Her voice is thick with emotion and I can almost bet she's been crying.

"I'm not leaving! Either come out or you won't like what happens!" I call back. "Or maybe you will." I mumble under my breath as I move up the end aisle, checking each one for where she might've decided to hide.

I pictured her eyes wide and frightened behind her glasses, her tits bouncing as she runs, and that perfect bubble butt peeking out of her school girl skirt. Fuck, I was hard. Maybe I did chase girls after all.

"Just go. You have plenty of options so go find one!" She yells from somewhere to my right.

"I don't want them." I snap. I spot the top of her head just as she ducks behind the large information desk but she hears me coming and takes off running towards the back of the building. She throws the door open to a storage room but I'm quicker as I catch the door before she can slam it shut. She squeals in terror as I slam the door shut behind me and I advance on her.

"I. Don't. Want. You!" She cries, slamming her hands against my chest then slaps me across the face.

"Then why are you upset? Why are you upset and crying over someone you don't want?" I demand, advancing on her in the tiny room.

"Because you show up at my work and chase me like some psycho!"

"You were mad before then." Her back meets the wall and she sucks in a breath, her body trembling from adrenaline. She's trapped. "You saw that girl kiss me but you didn't stick around long enough to see me shove her off me. I told you that you were the only one I want and I meant it."

"I don't believe you." She pants, shuddering against me as I brush the hair off her neck and stroke her pulse point with my thumb. Her pupils are dilated and I can make out her nipples through her shirt.

"I could've had any girl at the party suck my cock but I only want you to do it. I could've fucked probably two or three girls at the same time at the party but I only want you. I could've--." Her hand slaps over my mouth as she glares up at me.

"Shut. Up." She growls, narrowing those defiant eyes at me. Her jealousy turned me on too. I lick her hand and she gasps, yanking away from me but I wrap my arm around her waist, tangling the other in her hair before slamming my mouth against hers. I devour her mouth until she sags against me, her lips mimicking my own until I suck her tongue into my mouth and she moans sweetly.

"You won't listen to nice me so this is the version you get. If you don't want to believe the words coming out of my mouth then listen to what my body is saying. What yours is begging for from mine." I snarl against her lips, dipping my tongue in her mouth to taste her again as my hand dives between her legs. She squeals, trying to pull away but I cup her pussy and moan over what I find. She's so wet it's running down her thighs and her panties are sticking to her.

"You don't want me, huh?" I taunt, palming her clit as she trembles, baring her teeth at me.

"Fuck you."

"Filthy mouth." I pull in her for another kiss and she bites me. I smile as I yank her panties down her legs and slide my middle finger inside her tight walls. She's so tight that I can barely move my finger, let alone add another. She moans loudly, practically melting against me as she clings to my shirt for support.

"Cum on my fingers. Let me have it so you can take my cock." I urge against her panting lips.

"I'm not losing m-my virginity in a s-storage closet." She bites out, widening her legs to give me better access.

"You shouldn't have run from me." I press my thumb hard against her clit, curling my fingers until I reach that sweet spot that has her eyes roll back as she cums hard, gushing all over my hand and onto the floor. I have to hold her up as the orgasm wrecks her, leaving her breathless and drained. I free my cock a second later, coating it in her juices as her eyes track my every movement.

"That is not going inside me." She pushes against me, her eyes widening in fear but I can't help but laugh as I scoop her up and sit her on a stack of totes.

"It'll fit." I bring her in for another hard kiss, slapping my cock against her clit and making her whimper. I take her hand and wrap it around my length, making her stroke me. Her hand immediately feels so much better and I moan, leaning into her touch.

"JJ, we can't do this here." She whispers, letting her thumb swipe over my leaking slit.

"You ran. We could've done this in my bed but you ran." My spit lands between us and I work it down my length as I smear more of her arousal. I need her as wet as possible to keep from hurting her too much. I look up so I can see the look in her eyes as I push the tip in. Her eyes widen and her lips part in surprise.

"Relax. Let me in." I murmur, using my hand to guide myself in another inch while keeping ahold of the back of her neck. She releases a whimpered breath and I push in more.

I let out a choked moan, fighting off the urge to slam into her and fuck her until she’s leaking cum all over floor. I should get a medal for the amount of restraint I’ve shown, especially when she looks up at me with big pleading eyes and whimpers my name. This was going to be over before I even get started. Her pussy was literal heaven and I was never leaving.

[bettyfrommars]

Dr. Munson & The Monster

mad scientist!Eddie x The Monster x fem!Reader

Based on a sweet ask I got about how Reader's boyfriend cheats on us, and then we get revenge with his dad. I'm sure this was not what they had in mind 👀 my apologies. wc: 1.7k

18+Only, mature content, smut, cheating, mention of monster sex, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), creampie, breeding!kink, mention of being forced to live at the castle, mention of male impotence. Frankie and Reader are 25+, doctor!Eddie is 40+.

Things with you and your boyfriend Frankie were complicated.  When he first put you over his shoulder and carried you back to the castle, determined to be your mate, you wondered if it would work out.  But, you’d grown to love that zipper-neck lothario, and the enormous cock attached to him.  Munson’s Monster was famous by that time for being the first reanimated human, and he had so many women throwing their panties at him, it was intimidating for you at first.  

“Baby,  where are you going?” You called to him from the bed where you were in one of your sexiest nightgowns, draped perfectly to expose the curve of your hip that drove him bonkers.

“Out!” But he didn’t actually say it, he just grunted it, stomping off toward the balcony on stiff legs.  He liked to use the thick vines on the side of the building to climb down.

He flung the terrace doors wide open, and you watched him make his clumsy descent with a shake of your head.  “You’ll break your neck again one of these days, you know that baby? Just use the front door next time!”

He was too busy banking on his arm strength to hold his substantial weight to look up at you, but he did offer a growl and a grunt, and by the time he dropped to the ground in a crouch, there were tears glistening on your lash line.

The first few months together had been so rich with discovery and the promise of new  love. Frankie mated you from sunup to sundown, stretching you out and chasing his release with animalistic passion, the likes of which you’d never experienced before. After a few weeks, you were confessing your love; there was even talk of planning an October wedding.

But, the honeymoon phase was over, as they say, and word had made its way back to you that Frankie was getting in bed with every village woman within arms reach.  They all snickered and laughed behind your back when they saw you in town.

You watched him stumble into the night, and then you peeled yourself away from the balcony and wiped your eyes.  

You didn’t want to be alone again.  The only people who lived in the castle besides you and Frankie were Dr. Munson, his assistant Igor, and a housekeeper named Frau Blucher.  You put your silky robe on and brought a candelabra downstairs with you, following the golden glow of light coming from under the door of Dr. Munson’s library.

You knocked first, because he was a very private man, and you were paranoid that he hated you for whatever reason.  Maybe he didn’t think you were good enough for his creation?

“Enter,” a gruff voice bellowed from inside.

Edward Munson, brilliant surgeon and mad scientist, was hunched over his desk, fingers flying from inkwell to paper as he scribbled notes in his journal.  Long, dark curly hair wild around his shoulders, with a touch of gray at the sides, and fingertips stained black from the ink.

“What do you want?” He grumbled, never looking up from the paper.

He knew it was you.  He recognized the way your footsteps sounded on the floor above, the cadence of your knock, the way his heart jumped into his throat whenever you were near.

You shut the door behind you, pushing it until it clicked.  A cozy fire roared in the hearth, the air smelled of old books, pipe tobacco, and leather. You intertwined your fingers in front of you and went to take a seat by the fire.

Eddie finally glanced up, your silence making him curious.  That was when he saw your puffy face and the tears in your bloodshot eyes.  The horrible way his “son” treated you was no secret among the house, and sometimes his thoughts found their way to wondering how it would’ve worked out if he’d found you first, and not Frankie. 

With the pen still in his hand, he sat back in his seat.  “I’m sorry this keeps happening. You deserve much better than this.”

You snapped a look at him.  He was always so grumpy with you, this was the first time he’d ever offered you any semblance of comfort.

The nightgown under your robe was so tight to your skin that he could see the outline of your breasts and the way you weren’t wearing any undergarments.  He cast his eyes back down at his desk, ashamed for even allowing himself to dream.

Pausing in the middle of the room, on your way to the couch by the fire, you were struck with a sudden epiphany: Dr. Munson was attracted to you.  How had you never noticed it previously?   The way the light from the fire danced on his skin, making his dark eyes sparkle.

Driven by loneliness and a sudden, rabid burst of horny, you slinked over to the big oak desk, hitching your ample hip out to rest it at the edge.  The muscles in Eddie’s jaw flexed, eyes anchoring to yours, refusing to let them roam your body like they wanted to.

“What do you want from me?” His tone was tight, his cock twitching in his pants at how close you were.  “You should go back to your room.”

What you wanted was to get back at your neglectful, cheating boyfriend.  He got to have his fun several nights a week with whoever he wanted.  Why couldn’t you have the same?

You came around the desk to be closer, now your leg was touching his.  You let your hand graze up along your inner thigh over your nightgown, lips parted as you watched him from under hooded eyes.  “I want you to touch me, doctor.”

Dr. Munson hasn’t been with a woman intimately for years.  Mostly because he was a recluse who had no patience for the small talk required for getting to know someone, but also—he’d been harboring a secret crush on you since that first day Frankie brought you home.

His eyes flicked from the outline of your cunt to your face.  “Show me,” he told you, pushing the sleeves up on his shirt.

Eager to please him, you ran your hands up your thighs to shimmy the silky skirt up around your hips, giving him the perfect view of your kitten.  

Eddie’s mouth went dry at the sight, his brows knitting together.  He inched forward to brace one hand on your thigh while the other worked a finger along your slit, hissing at your wetness.  You yanked down the front of your nightgown to play with your nipples.

“Get on the desk,” he demanded, unbuttoning his shirt.

You had your knees bent, feet on his shoulders, quivering as his fingers spread you, his tongue seeking out the special nub that Frankie could never find.  The scientist that he was, he had studied a woman’s anatomy extensively, and wanted to use his gathered knowledge to please you.

“Your mouth feels so good, doctor,” you whimpered.   

He pulled away, chin dripping with a mix of saliva and your arousal, and then he worked a finger down, slipping in one, two, and then three.  You were all the way back on the desk now, knocking things over as you writhed, spilling the inkwell.  

He got to his feet, pushing his pants down to expose a generous pink length. You propped on your elbows to lick your lips and watch as he rubbed the tip along your slit with a groan, frowning in concentration.  

“Is this what you want?” He mumbled, pulling open your lips to watch how well you took his tip.

You sat up to meet his mouth, fingers clawing into his crazy hair as you forced his lips open with your tongue.  “I want you to give me a baby,” you begged. You found each other's eyes then, hovering on the implication of what was being asked. “Because we know Frankie can’t.”

It was true.  As much of a medical miracle and scientific treasure Frankie was, Dr. Munson suspected his sperm was no longer viable. Sometimes he blamed his skill as a surgeon for how Frankie had turned out, but he had to be gentle with himself—that brain Igor found for him was not the organ of an intellectual.  

Locking eyes with you, he sank all the way in, filling you to the base at first thrust, making you both cry out.  He cursed, bracing his hands on the desk for leverage to piston his hips against you.  You held his face between your hands and matched his need with your tongue.

His deft fingers moved from working your nipple to your clit, watching you unravel before his eyes.  It wasn’t until he felt your walls flutter around his cock and heard you whimper his name that he allowed his release.

He grunted, fingers digging into your soft hips. He hadn’t tended to himself in days, and so the potential for seeds to be planted deep in your womb was strong. 

 It took a while for him to finish pumping it all in, and then you stretched back on the huge desk, planting your feet, knees wide.  Maintaining eye contact with him, you used your fingers to push his cum deeper inside of you, tilting your hips up, holding it there, and then rubbing the excess up through your folds, before bringing them to your mouth to suck. 

He kissed your stomach and your breasts, up your throat, sticking his own fingers inside to keep any from leaking out.  “Stay like this until I say you can go,” he mumbled against your mouth.  “And when it starts to drip down your leg, I want you to remember who put it there.”

“Yes, doctor,” you whined, listening to the plop of the tiny ink droplets as they fell from the desk and collected in a puddle on the floor. 

[midnight-black2]

im really okay with this being published on may. since its farleigh start related. but...

shy and nerdy dom!reader and farleigh start in oxford. where farleigh takes an interest on reader since they look absolutely innocent and cute. so he tries his hardest to get her in bed with him. which bites him on the ass bcos reader is a dom LMAO really caring tho. which kinda pulls on farleigh's heartstrings a bit 🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃 yk "youre the only person to do this for me" kind of trope but after hard core sex (im kidding... unless)

𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓

pairing : farleigh start x reader

synopsis : read the req !!

disclaimers : sub!farleigh, dom!reader, smut with plot, fem!reader, kind of like degrading praise, p in v (imaginary condom, let's just pretend they had one bc i forgot to write it in), handjob (m!recieving), etc

note : since i waited so long to post this, i wanted to make it worth the while. enjoy 🫶🫶

for a college girl, her behavior was...curious, to say the least. she was oddly quiet; stuck to herself mostly. she had a few friends, if you could really call them that. for the most part, she was nowhere to be found, and that's exactly how she preferred it.

you couldn't find her at parties, or outings, or pubs. if you really wanted to speak with her, you would have to go to the very back of the library, where she would be sat at a desk, reading some book or doing homework. it didn't matter, though. the main reason people wanted to meet with her was a matter of tutoring, and most people at oxford didn't necessarily need tutoring.

for the most part, she was unbothered. until, farleigh start walked into her life. polar opposites, they were. when he had asked a counselor who the best person to tutor him would be, they had guided him to Y/N. and so, on a thursday evening, (7:43 pm to be exact), farleigh found you in the back of the school library, reading as you ate an apple as quietly as possible as not to disturb others.

he stopped in his tracks when he saw you. your hair pulled back into a low bun, a few strands sticking out. you pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose as your eyes chased the words on the book pages violently quick. he furrowed his brows, with a confused grin. he didn't expect you to be so cute.

"are you...Y/N L/N?" he queried. you were seemingly startled, which made him chuckle to himself. your face twisted into an expression of utter bewilderment.

"yes...why do you ask?" you question, reluctantly.

"i was told to come see you..." he said, in a daze. after a few seconds of silence (and more confusion on your face) he broke from his reveries, and cleared his throat. he smiled, glanced at the ground, before his eyes trailed back up to yours. "i need tutoring."

you nodded, and slipped a bookmark in your book, before pushing it to the side. you took one last bite from your apple, before sitting up, walking to the trash, and throwing it away. once you sat back down, you tucked the unruly strands of hair behind your ears, before patting the empty seat to the right of you.

"do sit," you instructed, face calm and emotionless. and so, he sat beside you, his bright and rather bold choice of clothing almost looking ridiculous next to your dull browns and blacks. the juxtaposition was comical. "so is there particular homework you need help with? or would you simply like me to look through work you don't understand or...?" he smiled amiably, before nodding.

"i need help with some math homework," he replied, before digging through his backpack. you waited patiently, before he eventually set down two packets of homework on the table. you mentally sighed. you didn't quite feel up for the task, but he seemed nice, and you didn't want to let him down either.

"specific questions? or the whole thing?" you asked.

"the whole thing." okay so maybe he was fibbing. maybe he only said the whole packet so he could spend more time with you. so? so what? it's not like a little white lie ever hurt anyone. you took the first packet, and flipped through it. to your advantage, it looked fairly easy.

you began to explain the first problem, but he was hardly listening. you were solving it completely on your own, and whenever you would ask if he understood, he would form some distant "mhm" as a way of saying yes. you realized at some point, though. you realized this entire time (five minutes and twenty-eight seconds in fact--you had been watching the clock out of your peripheral) he wasn't looking at the paper, but you. you slowly turned to face him, and your cheeks became a rosy red, only slightly noticeable, but there.

"are you alright?" you asked, swallowing dryly. he nodded.

"yeah, sorry, you're just...you're so pretty. has anyone ever told you that?" he answered, gazing at you.

"uhm, no, not that i can remember," you said back. he laughed at that. he found you endearing, even charming, in your own unconventional way.

soon enough, one hour and fifty-eight minutes had passed (again, you had been glancing at the clock every now and then) and you finally made it through both math packets. you two began cleaning up, and packing your things.

"just so you know, i won't charge you this time, but any further sessions will be twenty dollars by the hour," you stated, matter-of-factly, as you placed your things inside your bag.

"wow, and here i was thinking you were doing this out of the kindness of your heart," he said, playfully. you smiled. it was a small one, but you still smiled.

"nope. everything i do has a catch," you said, matching his tone. and boy did he wish he would've remembered that...

after that, you two kept meeting. it wasn't intentional, but the world always seemed to place you two in the same spot at the same time. the interactions didn't differ from that of the one in the library. he was always flattering you, or finding a way to make you blush, and he found you incredibly cute. so much so, that he was determined to discover you. in other words--he wanted you under his bedsheets. so when one of your acquaintances, luna, had practically dragged you to some frat party saying it would "be good for you to get out," you weren't surprised to see him there.

he always seemed to creep up on you. you had turned around and were met with him, towering over you with that same complacent grin he always wore.

"is this real life? am i actually seeing Y/N L/N at a frat party? oh god, pinch me," he said, in a dramatic high-pitched voice. he described it as if it were a crime, and it was almost like it was. you smiled, and shook your head.

"yes, i'm actually here, though against my will," you responded, crossing your arms over your chest as you glanced at your friend who had found oxfords heartthrob, felix, and occupied herself with him. farleigh chuckled, as he kept his eyes trained on you.

"you look good, Y/N," he said, and, he was right, you did look good. your hair was--for once--out of its usual bun and falling down your shoulders gracefully. you had on a bit of eyeliner, and some lipstick which was the most makeup you'd worn all year. you were wearing a short long sleeved black dress. it was casual, but it looked so strikingly gorgeous on you. farleigh ran his eyes along your body, he certainly wasn't subtle, although he never has been.

"you make it quite clear," you said, with a brow quirk, as you swallowed. his eyes met yours again, a smirk forming on his face.

"good," he replied. there it was, he always seemed to reply just as quick as you did, there was no thought or effort, he simply matched your wit. he was the first person you had met to do so. then again, you hadn't met many people at oxford, so perhaps the judgement wasn't very fair.

"don't your, er, a thousand girlfriends await you?" you teased, crossing your arms across your chest. he raised his brows dramatically, with a gasp. it was sarcastic, you knew that much. you laughed.

"sure, girl friends, space between the words," he corrected, sassily.

"well excuse me then."

"yes, excuse you," he said back, tilting his head to the side. you smiled, before you caught luna chugging down alcohol you were pretty sure was either spiked, or someone else's.

"no literally, excuse me. i think my friend over there needs a bit of assistance. jesus, not even ten minutes here and she's already getting trashed," you said. he looked behind him, and saw luna stumbling and screaming. he laughed, and let you go.

after the whole luna situation was taken care of, you were pooped. which sucked, because surprisingly, in the ten minutes you had been talking with farleigh, you were enjoying yourself immensely. a lot people had cleared out, leaving the house more quiet than before. luna didn't want to leave quite yet, which was unfortunate for you since she was your ride here. luckily, though, you had planned for this and brought a book for entertainment. you just read the book as she flirted her way into guys lives. to your surprise, you heard an all too familiar voice speak from behind you.

"are you seriously reading a book at a party? you're such a dork," farleigh said, leaning over your shoulder.

"maybe i am. but it's more interesting than watching luna flirt with uncomfortable guys all night," you replied, flipping the page. he chuckled.

"fair," he began. "you know, i can think of more fun things to do, though." you placed the bookmark in your book, you were intrigued.

"yeah? like what?"

"you could come upstairs with me," he suggested, smirking. you cocked a brow.

"and do what, hm?"

"three guesses."

"talk, get drunk, or get high," you said, fully knowing none of those were correct answers.

"incorrect, Y/N. can't believe for the first time in the time i've know you, you got something wrong," he said, dramatically. you laughed. "i'm serious though, come upstairs with me." you didn't answer for a bit, how could you? you couldn't say no, but you shouldn't have said yes, either.

"please?" he begged, after you didn't say anything after a moment. you sighed, setting your book on the coffee table in front of you.

"you'd better make this worth my while, farleigh."

"i promise you i will, Y/N," he said, and you were sold. in a flash you two darted up the stairs and in a secluded room on the left wing of the house. you guys haphazardly made it inside the bedroom, making out feverishly. the air suddenly felt hot, and everything was so intense. from the way he cupped your face, to the way your hands rested on his hot skin. he was about to sit you down on the bed, attempting to exert some sort of control over you. you paused. oh no, no no no no no.

"what are you doing?" you asked, bluntly. maybe you read the situation incorrectly, but you definitely thought he was more on the submissive side. this was...an unexpected turn of events.

"is this...not what you had in mind?" he asked, stopping in his tracks. it's not like he would ever force you to do anything. still, he thought his feelings were more than mutual based off of the way you had practically lunged up the stairs with him. you snuck out underneath him, and for a second he was left dumbfounded. that was until you flipped positions, having him underneath you on the bed. his cheeks flushed, becoming a cute crimson color.

"this is what i had in mind," you replied, smirking. god, had he really been that dense? were you actually the top this entire time? did he really care? so many questions. frankly, he had never subbed before, and even though he didn't necessarily have to do anything for it (besides maybe let go of his pride), he was still nervous about it. after all, he would be a lot more vulnerable than usual. "i know this probably isn't your normal style, and if you're not willing to try it we can stop right now."

"when did i say i wanted to stop?"

"you didn't."

"so...proceed," he said, a bit hesitantly. you smiled, before you kissed his lips softly. it felt heavenly; the way your lips moved in sync. you treated him with care. it made his heart flutter in his chest.

eventually, you moved away from his lips and began trailing kisses down his jaw and to his neck. you sucked softly, leaving hickeys all over his smooth skin. he sighed at the feeling, biting back any and every urge to let out the soft whimpers he wanted to. your hand found its way to the zipper of his jeans, before you looked up into his eyes.

"do you want this?" you asked, only for good measure. you wanted to be sure.

"yes, fuck, obviously," he panted, with a sassy eye roll. you chuckled, before continuing. you carefully unzipped his pants. he helped you in the process, lifting his hips up so you could pull them down. he couldn't fully comprehend what was happening as your fingers traced around his prominent erection. his mind felt clouded and hazy. he had never been in this position before, but now that he was, he didn't think he'd ever want to do things a different way.

you palmed him through his draws, and he genuinely whined at the sensation. you were teasing him, and he hated it. you arched a brow, before going back up to kiss him on the lips.

"be patient, farleigh," you advised, before pecking him on the lips one last time. painfully slowly, you pulled his draws down, and his cock sprang up swiftly. goodness was he big. perhaps 9 to 9.5 inches. if you planned to properly fuck him, he would possibly split you open...i mean what the hell.

"like what you see?" he teased, breathlessly. you rolled your eyes, yet didn't respond. you simply thumbed at his tip (which was leaking pre), and that was enough to shut him up. you--finally--gave him what he so desperately wanted, and wrapped your hand around his cock. you started out steadily, up and down. he let out soft whimpers and whines as you did so. he threw his head back, his brows were beautifully furrowed.

your hand went for the hem of his sweater, and you pulled it over his head. he was now fully exposed, and he would have felt slightly embarrassed if he wasn't so fucked out already. your fingers accidentally grazed his nipples, and combined with the stimulation already given, he let out a loud moan. you kissed his cheek, with a smile.

"look at you enjoying yourself, hm?" you mumbled.

"oh shut the fuck up," he countered, breathlessly. you pumped him particularly rough when he said that, causing him to whine. "a-ah fuck." he felt himself growing nearer and nearer towards the edge, which was strange. normally, he would last longer, but there was something about you that made him want to absolutely make a mess of himself.

"s-shit Y/N, think m'gonna cum," farleigh warned, squeezing the sheets tight in his hand. and then? you halted.

"no no, why'd you stop?" he whined, shaking his head. you laughed in his face, and didn't respond. although, when you sat up, and he did the same and leaned against the headboard, he knew what was happening. you took off your pants and then your underwear followed. he couldn't help but look down, you were completely soaked. he swallowed anxiously. he didn't want to wait much longer.

"see that? you see what you do to me?" you asked, tauntingly. you definitely had a knack for making things known to him, and he went absolutely feral. he was growing more and more impatient.

"please, Y/N," he begged, gripping your waist in an attempt to ground himself. you wasted no more time, as you lifted yourself up, and then sat back down on his cock. your pace was pretty fast, merciless, even. he let out a guttural moan, and there was a slight arch in his back as he tried helplessly not to buck his hips upward. you groaned, he was so fucking big.

"you like that, farleigh? like me fucking you like this?" you asked. it was rhetorical, but he nodded eagerly anyways. you were quite animalistic, and he wasn't sure how you were able to fuck him so fast, but it felt euphoric. he cried out, as he shut his eyes.

"o-oh my god, fuck," he moaned. you placed your hands against his chest to leverage yourself. you wanted to go even faster, thought it seemed impossible. "i won't last long."

"fuckk," you groaned, brows furrowed. "you're good, it's fine. you're doing just fine f'me, farleigh." he could feel himself become undone, as you did too.

"w-wanna cum. can i?" he asked, pleading with you. his eyes were slightly teary.

"come whenever," you breathed out, not really caring at this point. you were simply chasing your own climax. soon enough, farleigh came with a frail cry, and shortly after you came too. your chests were heaving up and down, lungs working overtime to catch your breaths. your bodies were sweaty and sticky against each other, but neither of you cared. as he came down from his high, he couldn't help but feel special. that was his first time doing something like that. there was a long, comfortable silence, before farleigh spoke.

"nobody's ever done anything like that for me before," he said, looking up at you. you smiled softly.

"glad to be the first one then." let's just say, that it turned out to be more than a one time thing...

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐤𝐲𝐚-𝐢𝐬-𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐥

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲? 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

[kscheibles]

fall rendezvous (college bf! au)

content warnings: f! reader, fluff, smut, unprotected p in v sex, oral sex f! receiving

word count: 2.2k

The crisp morning air bites at your nose as you walk across campus after your 8 a.m. discussion class. You’re not used to New England weather; the chilly air causes your nose to run even when you’re bundled up in sweatshirts and coats as you are now. Matty makes fun of you every time, but his actions betray his true feelings. He always takes the opportunity to hold your hands in his and breathe hot air onto them. He likes being your solace. Your comfort.

As a matter of fact, that’s what you need him for now. Chase, the obnoxious legacy student in your Art History section, was insistent on devaluing the thematic interests of indigenous artists. Unfortunately, you’d had to take matters into your own hands when the TA looked as if it was too early for her to put a stop to his bullshit for the third time this semester. You’d ripped him a new one, but as a result, you were now simultaneously riled up, tired, and in need of a comforting hug from your boyfriend. You lug your book bag across the quad, texting Matty when you’re finally near his dorm.

You wait a few moments at the door, still reeling. As soon as the door swings open, revealing Matty’s crooked, slept-on curls and perfect, knowing smile, you can feel the anxiety in your body ease up. You run into him, almost knocking him off his feet as his arms come around to envelop you. The smell of his cologne and detergent and sleep fill your nose and seep into your brain, relaxing you like a drug. It’s instant with him. He gets into your bloodstream. 

“Mornin’ darlin’,” he mumbles into your ear. You smile into his navy hoodie, looking up into his sleepy eyes.

“Mornin’,” you coo. Matty grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs, unlocking his door and letting you in. You’re greeted by the smell of fresh coffee. Matty goes over to the coffee pot and pours you a mug as you toss your bookbag on the floor and take your shoes and socks off. You survey the place, taking inventory of the two beds, one belonging to his roommate, Ross, who has a 9 a.m. lab. He won’t be back for hours, bless him. Matty’s bed is at a different height than usual. He’s lowered it a bit, for god knows what reason. You chalk it up to a manic ADHD episode where he decided he had to rearrange his room in order to do his homework properly – you know this kind of thing isn’t uncommon for him. You love the ways in which his brain is different from yours. He sees and gets excited by things you never could and you admire him endlessly for it.

“What’s with the bed?” you ask as Matty passes you a mug of steaming coffee. You take another whiff – hazelnut, he must have gotten a new blend to mark the beginning of fall – before sipping on it, feeling it ground you back to reality. Matty quirks his eyebrows playfully, smirking as he does. 

“Well I wanted to try something actually,” he starts, cozying up to your side and resting his chin on the top of your head. “You know we were having all that trouble last week when I was trying to fuck you standing up?” 

Your head snaps around and you meet his eyes, smiling. What a boy, you think. 

“Anyways, I couldn’t stop thinking about it the other night while I was waiting for Ross to come back from the library so we could play Mortal Kombat so I crushed a Red Bull and adjusted the bed to be just a bit lower than my hips.”

You put your coffee down on his messy bookshelves filled with mythology volumes, dogeared paperback copies of Kafka, and plastic video game cases. You bring your arms up around his neck and kiss him softly on the mouth. 

“I suppose you wanna try it out then?” you ask, teasingly. Matty moans into your mouth and walks you back towards the bed until your thighs hit the mattress. You fall down onto your back and Matty’s instantly undoing the button of your jeans, pulling your pants and underwear off in one fell swoop. His head falls between your legs instantly, kissing your inner thighs, lifting your legs over his shoulders, and then licking you from your hole to your clit. 

You whimper at the contact. He’s so warm and wet and good. You squirm under his tongue, instinctively looking for friction. You swear you can feel his lips curl into a smile around your clit as you begin to buck senselessly, arrhythmically into his mouth. He captures your clit in his mouth, sucking at it devotedly as his left hand comes around to pin you down to the bed by your hips.

“God, you make me feel so good,” you moan as his fingers begin to swipe listlessly at your entrance. His head leaves your body long enough for you to read the need in his eyes. His pupils are completely blown out, lips glistening with your pleasure. “I love you,” you breathe. It’s the only thing you can think when you see the picture between your thighs: your sweet boy on his knees, cozy in his hoodie, and looking up at you for reassurance that he’s eating you right, even though he’s done it a hundred times before. He bends down, kissing your lower tummy tenderly.

“I love you, too,” he smiles up at you, “Can I fuck you now, sweet girl?”

You nod, intoxicated with pleasure and grinning. Faintly, you hear his clothes shuffling as he rids himself of his sweatpants and underwear, pumping himself a couple of times to be sure he’s ready for you. You hear the condom wrapper crinkling. Then you feel him, sinking inside you slowly. You feel dizzy despite having your eyes closed. Matty folds your knees into you and begins to push in and out of you slowly, rocking you into ecstasy. With your feet to the sky, you start to feel the chilly autumn air seep into you through your extremities and into your core, distracting and uncomfortable.

“Matty, I’m cold,” you whine, grabbing at your feet to warm them up. Leave it to your university to skimp on heating during the freezing Connecticut fall. 

“Oh fuck,” he mutters, pulling out of you briefly, “Can you stand up a minute, darling?” You do, hissing as your feet hit the cold, ground, and watching him dumbly as he unmakes his bed, fluffing his comforter up and holding in his arms. He wraps it delicately around your shoulders, holding you to him in a hug that feels like complete and utter safety. “You wanna lay back down?” he whispers into your hair. You nod and Matty helps you back onto the bed. You slowly lean back until your spine hits the mattress and plant your feet back on the flat surface. He notices before even you do, “Your feet still look cold, are you okay?”

You look down at them, realizing only now that they’ve gone completely numb. You meet Matty’s eyes bashfully. “Will I still be hot enough to fuck if you lend me a pair of fuzzy socks?”

Matty blushes and nods, kissing you sweetly on the forehead. “Always,” he assures you before padding over to his chest of drawers and finding a pair of wool socks to don you with. He puts them on you himself, rubbing your toes through the thick material to bring the weight back into your body. 

“I feel like Cinderella,” you quip. 

“You are,” Matty smiles, your feet still in his hands, “My perfect princess.”

“Okay don’t get too into my feet now,” you giggle and Matty drops them immediately.

“You’re right,” he turns fake serious all of a sudden, “Don’t even know how I was paying attention to them when you’re all spread out for me right here.”

You smile sweetly as he buries himself in you again, savoring that perfect, holy meeting that makes you see stars every time.

Your mouth falls open and your brows furrow inadvertently as you feel Matty fill you up. He touches every part of you, holding on to your tits and legs and anything else he can get his hands on as he begins to fuck you in earnest. He’s losing himself, grasping at any straw of reality that could keep him grounded. Your hand comes around to encircle the wrist of his hand that's bruising your right breast. You whine with each snap of his hips into yours but still manage to get his attention and talk him through it. 

“I’m right here, Matty,” you say, “I’m yours. Making me feel so good, baby.” His eyes meet yours, black with desire. Matty’s confided in you that he has a tendency to dissociate a little during sex. It helps when you touch different parts of him, stimulate him in new ways so that he stays present, and when you speak to him so he can remember that he’s doing it for you, too. He appreciates how seriously you take it and loves you even more in the moments he can tell you’re trying to care for him. 

Matty’s hand moves from your breast down to where his body meets yours, trapping your clit between his fingers and rubbing you in tandem with his thrusts. It causes another wanton cry to escape your lips.

“Please stay just like that,” you beg, “Please, please, I’m so close baby.” He nods, sweaty curls sticking to his forehead as he drags your body impossibly closer to his own. 

“Being so fucking good for me baby,” he manages, “Such a good girl. You’re for me.”

“All for you, baby,” you repeat, “I’m so fucking lucky you make me feel so good.”

“Gonna make you cum, baby. Can I?” he asks, leaning over you even further, chasing both of your orgasms. Your head falls back into the bed as he does. Like a marionette with her strings cut, your head bobs uselessly against the navy sheets as Matty rubs you and fucks you faster.

“I’m almost there,” you warn, “Stay just like that. Please, please.” You’re not even sure what you’re begging for anymore. Your brain is too far gone to be rational. You tense up as you feel your orgasm creeping up on you. 

“Relax for me,” you hear Matty’s voice in your ear, “It’s gonna feel a lot better if you relax, baby.”

You do. Instantly, you feel the band of pressure in your stomach snap as your orgasm washes over you from head to toe. You can feel yourself pulsing around Matty’s dick, over and over, beginning to feel overstimulated as he continues his assault on your used cunt. You swat tiredly at his hand on your clit. He moves it to your hip, holding on to you for dear life.

“Just another second baby,” he breathes, “You can be a good girl and take it a little while longer, yeah?” You nod uncontrollably, blissed out and needy. You need him to cum, need him to feel as good as you do. 

“Please, Matty, need you to cum inside me.” Matty slows to a stop above you, panting.

Matty falls onto your chest, bent over at the hips, panting into the duvet that cocoons you. Your hand meets his curls immediately, holding tight to what you couldn’t reach moments ago. You push his hair back from where it’s fallen onto his forehead, revealing his flushed face. Your thumbs ghost over his perfect cheekbones. You stay there, present for him, as he comes down, smiling at him when he finally meets your eyes. 

“Hi,” you muse.

“Hi,” he pants, letting his head touch the comforter again and pulling out of you. Your hands fly to his shoulders, brows furrowing as you try to still him. “Shhhh, baby, just a second,” he coos, standing up and tying the condom off before chucking it god knows where. He unwraps you and pulls the covers over the both of you as he nestles back into the comically small bed. He kisses the crown of your head when you find your way into the crook of his shoulder. 

“Thank you, I love you,” you say into his chest. 

“You too, baby,” he whispers, “Always look out for me you’re so good to me baby.” 

You lean up to kiss him, warm and sweet and soft. 

“This bed is really small,” you laugh into his mouth.

“That’s why I had to fold you up to fit,” he quips in return. 

“Will you take me to get a coffee, then? I think the one you made has gone cold.”

“Sure, baby,” he says, rubbing your bicep when you spring off the bed to get dressed. Matty gets up too, scrounging for his long discarded clothes. 

He chucks his blue Nike hoodie at you. “I know you were planning to steal that anyway.” You smile, shucking it on over your sweater. As you bend over to put your shoes on, Matty comes up behind you steadying you as you wobble with only one shoe on. You use his shoulders to steady yourself. He leans in, kissing you slowly and unhurriedly like he could do it all day.

“You ready to brave the cold?” he teases. 

“If I’m with you,” you pout. He giggles, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and looping his arm around your neck.

“Come on then, baby,” he beams, “I’ll keep you warm.”

[mrs-gucci]

A Masked Escapade

anon

Thank you for taking requests! Sextember makes me think of Jacques taking you to a kinky sex party that’s kind of dark and freaky.

the settings and some events in this story are inspired by a real life 1700s sex club called "the hellfire club", which I believe I've used as inspo before (but this one is different, I promise lol). also, the book he reads from & the lines he reads are from a real 1700s-era piece of erotic literature!

warnings. SMUT (18+ ONLY), a sex club, reader is a high-class prostitute, erotic readings (nothing super explicit mentioned), exhibitionism, some dirty talk, unprotected p in v, no creampie.

word count: 1k

★ written for sextember 2023 ★

** CLICKING “KEEP READING” MEANS YOU UNDERSTAND & ACKNOWLEDGE ALL OF THE WARNINGS LISTED ABOVE AND ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, YOUR CONTENT CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. MINORS DNI. **

collage by me :)

The night is dark, the only light coming from the crescent moon hanging above as you step onto the boat along with the other ladies. Everyone is wearing a costume and mask of some kind, the desire to conceal identities common on an evening like this one.

You're taken to the entrance to Pierre's remote estate at Wycombe and are guided in by a man, also in costume. Waiting for you in the large dining room was your date for the evening, Sir Jacques Le Gris. He greets you with a smile and wraps an arm around you as you take a seat on his lap.

A night of debauchery is about to begin...

Dinner starts off with just food, but soon takes a sinful turn when one of the guests retrieves a certain book from the library in the other room, which then begins the evening's erotic readings.

Jacques is a spirited participant, enjoying the showmanship of it all as he reads the explicit words written out on the pages.

"A Dialogue Between a Married Lady and a Maid," he reads off the cover, then flips through the pages before landing on an excerpt. "There is between the thighs, just at the bottom of the belly, a piece of flesh...underneath, hangs in a bag, or purse, two little balls, pretty hard, and the harder the better. And in them is contained that thick white liquor."

Everyone chuckles you smile slightly, feeling some warmth begin to blossom throughout your body.

"He took hold of that place which distinguishes us from men. At the same time he cried out, 'O! I have a maid! A virgin to my share!'"

You take your lip between your teeth as he keeps reading.

"His member was stiff and hard as a horn. Just as he had finished, my mother, who had heard me shriek, came into the room. 'What a happy girl you are!' said she. 'Pluck off this smock, which I will keep for a relick, since it is stained with thy virgin's blood.'"

Jacques hands the book off to another reader while everyone applauds his delightful reading. When he sits back down, you get onto his lap and rest a hand on his chest with a small smile.

"What an bewitching reading," you say, tugging playfully at the ties of his shirt. "I thoroughly enjoyed myself."

He enjoys this, chuckling softly as he wraps his arm around you and gives your hip a little squeeze.

"I am so glad to hear that you enjoyed it, poppet," he says in a low voice, eyes beginning to darken with lust. "I hope that soon, I get to feel just how much you enjoyed it."

You let out a shaky breath at his words, finding it very hard to keep yourself contained as the readings finish up. But eventually, the party moves down to the caves and everyone files into a large room with several rooms branching off of the main one. You know what's set to happen next, and some of it has already begun, considering a few people immediately make their way into the other rooms.

You hum as Jacques begins to tease you and chase you around the room like a hunter stalking his prey. You always enjoy the little games Jacques plays at club meetings, so you go along with it, running away and dodging his grabs, which only excites him more.

"Come come, I will only chase you..."

He pulls off his shirt, revealing his toned torso, then grabs a couple pieces of bread and pops them into his mouth. He suddenly dashes at you and tosses you over his shoulder. Everyone around you two laughs at the sight as you begin to playfully wriggle around, pretending to try and break free from his grasp.

"Put me down," you say, chuckling as he carries you over towards the large bed. "Put me down this instant!"

Several of the girls get onto the bed as he drops you down onto it, and the women all gather around you as Jacques pushes your skirts up. Jacques lowers his pants enough so that his hardened length is exposed. The ladies all look upon his sizable shaft as he gives himself a few strokes, then nudges the tip against your cunt before thrusting in, grunting softly at the feeling.

You gasp softly at his size and he gives you but a moment to adjust before he begins fucking you slowly, finding his ideal rhythm.

"Good God," he sighs, hands on your hips. "What a lovely little cunt you have, poppet."

He truly means it, and it isn't something he often says to the ladies he beds. But you...you're different. His cock begins to twitch inside of you as his hips pick up pace. The women gathered around your head hold your arms and look at Jacques, greatly enjoying the sights and sounds he's providing them.

"How lucky a lady must be to take Sir Le Gris inside of her," one of the young women says, biting her lip. "I imagine he feels absolutely wonderful."

You let a soft whimper leave your lips and nod, eyes shut in pleasure. "Indeed."

Jacques chuckles breathily, groaning lowly as his peak approaches rather quickly. He always hates having to pull out, he wishes he could bury every last bit of his seed deep inside of you, but alas, rules are rules.

Suddenly, he's pulling out and allowing his white liquor to paint your skin and delicate folds with a gruff growl of relief. Your hands tighten in the sheets, then release when he pushes back and grabs his cup of wine, taking a long drink.

You wipe yourself off with a cloth that one of the girls provides you, then turn over and sit up on the bed. He lets his hand caress your cheek for just a moment, the closest you'll ever get to a 'thank you' or 'I enjoyed our time together', then looks up at the ladies with a charming grin.

"Alright. Who's next?"

****

sextember taglist: @rynwritesstuff @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman

if you'd like to be tagged in future sextember works, please let me know via comment on this post or the original sextember post!

[brisbookmark]

Dreams or Not - Aemond Targaryen x F!Reader (18+)

✧ A Modern Uni/ Dark! Aemond x fem!reader (commissioned by anonymous)

✧ Word count: 2.5k

Contains: stalker pyscho Aemond, somnophilia, fingering in a library, finger licking, pet names, P in V, Aemond knows where the clit it, Sort of Rivals (?), Aemond has a giant cock

He had followed her into the library. He didn’t even know why he did, but something about her had brought him to the aisle next to her. If he could only close his eyes and focus enough.. he could pick out her scent wafting over to him between the books. But then she moved again. 

Aemond growled at that, copying the falls of her footsteps with his own; a sad attempt at masking his presence really. He scoffed as she turned down an aisle of textbooks, and found himself smiling as she rambled privately about her upcoming debate competition. 

Of course, he had already bought an entry. He had scouted where he would sit, a place she couldn’t see him and yet somewhere he could admire her prowess. It was genius really. At least- that’s what he told himself as he found a seat in the library.

Hours passed, and he had made his way through the numerous philosophy books closest to the desk he had chosen to wait at. He watched as everyone left, one by one. Everyone except for his Y/N.

And so he approached.

She had fallen asleep at the desk, and he reached out a porcelain hand to stroke a lock of her hair behind her ears. Her cheek was squished against the hardcover of a political book, her arms no doubt already procuring those deep pink nap lines from the coat they were resting on. Y/N’s hair was splayed across her back, some falling to the sides and resting on the desk..

Aemond thought she had never looked more beautiful. So blissfully unaware. Perhaps this is why he loved her in her innocent state; No attitude, no snarky words that made him want to push her against a wall and shut her mouth. 

He let his hand trace downward across her face, thumb brushing against her lips. The blonde used his thick finger to pull her bottom lip downward, being so careful not to wake her from her slumber as he let it bounce back into place.

Those lips that were so usually pursed into a frown against him.. Part of him wondered if they were parted now in thoughts of him. Surely they had to be.. With the way her eyes always sought him out. Aemond had already caught her readjusting herself after a quick glance numerous times.  He smirked to himself at the thought. 

His dearest Y/N, Perhaps that is why she always started those insufferable arguments. Why she always had to debate his every word, rile up every nerve, harden his every muscle with just her quick tongue and sharp gaze.

Aemond bit the inside of his cheek before slowly lifting her shoulders from the desk, leaning her head back more comfortably.

Now he could see her pretty lashes, and the way her hair fell across her forehead. Gently, oh so gently, Aemond  picked her up from the chair- and his heart pounded so fast against his chest he feared it might wake her.

His grievances were confirmed when she made a small noise. Y/N’s eyes were barely open as she gripped him tight, surprised by her new position in his strong arms.

“Aemond?” she said sleepily as he set her back down on the library table, assisting her in staying straight up. The taller blonde stroked her cheek lovingly, and he couldn’t resist turning his lips upward in a confident smile. 

“Shh,” he hushed, “Rest sweet girl,” Aemond whispered with a soft voice. 

Y/N yawned quietly, blinking her eyes back closed. She seemed so dazed… “Is this a dream, Aemond?” she whispered, hands coming up to hold his biceps as he stepped in between her legs.

Ah. 

How. Cute.

Aemond’s pupils darkened at the thought of her practically confirming his thoughts. She sought him out in her deepest sleep, and perhaps had even chased her darkest pleasures with him. 

No matter if she hadn’t, he would give it to her tonight. 

“Just a dream my love…” he soothed, rubbing her cheek until her head slumped forward against his chest and she was asleep again. 

Aemond glanced back at the door to make sure it was closed, and then he lowered her back to the desk, and he made quick work of the buttons on her jeans. His slender lithe hands were delicate, and as her shirt rode up on her abdomen he slowly inhaled her sweet scent. 

Finally, he could indulge in his desires without her talking. She was always too nice, and before she could ever reach out her hand in a gesture of friendship Aemond had already imagined her head thrown back against the nearest wall and her clothes on the floor.  Whenever he needed a quiet moment to think of her.. she came striding in with such a friendly smile.

Sometimes Aemond wondered if he was too harsh with such a sweet little thing. And then his doubts would soothe when she spat her venomous words again. 

Yes, taking her in her sleep when she was quiet was the best way to do it.

“Let me take care of you like you know you want me to…” he whispered to no one but himself. Perhaps if he was sincere enough it would reach her in her subconscious.

He gently eased her pants down, slipping his hand under her panties. Immediately his digits were met with warmth and- oh.

��Quite wet for me…” Aemond teases, looking down at her sleeping form. “But surely we can do better..” he let the calloused tips of his two forefingers circle her clit, and his free hand held her hip.

He circled it slowly, imagining her begging underneath him.

“Faster,” she would say, “Please Aemond, I need more.”

And Aemond convinced himself that he wouldn’t listen. Even if he knew that he would concede to her, submit to her if she wanted.

But she couldn’t say anything now. And he was in total control. So he circled her sensitive bud with his thumb. Slowly. 

Y/N moaned so quietly he almost missed it. That gentle whimper had his cock hardening and his hands freezing. “Moaning sweet girl? Even in your sleep?” Aemond whispered, resuming his movements faster now. “I wonder what you’re dreaming of.. my fingers indeed? Perhaps my tongue.. or are you dirty enough to dream of my cock. I’m sure you have before.”

The blonde man slipped a single finger into her wetness, feeling her pulse around him. A groan escaped his own lips, and he inserted another, thrusting them in and out so delicately slow. 

He spread his fingertips apart more, working at her cunt until his digits were soaked to his satisfaction. 

Aemond smiled a confident grin as Y/N’s eyelids fluttered and she readjusted herself on the desk, getting comfortable in her slumber. She was so good for him, even when she wasn’t aware. 

Almost regrettably, he removed his fingers from her, bringing them to his lips and licking her slick off of them with a long tongue. She wasn’t watching, but he made a show of it for himself- swirling his tongue and gagging himself on his own fingertips, licking every last drop of her sweetness.

“When you wake I’ll have you lick it off yourself,” he whispered into the air, and then he leaned over her, bending at the waist to press a kiss to her parted lips. It was a chaste thing, nowhere near what he wanted to do to those full lips- but it would satisfy him for now. He watches as Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed and she moaned once more. 

This time it was his name. A quiet, lovely, “Aemond..”

Aemond groaned to himself, and he brushed her hair away as she licked the shell of her ear. “Don’t speak.. don’t try,” he whispered to her, part of him wishing she would hear it. 

He worked at removing his belt, throwing it somewhere amongst her things. 

He had to take her quickly, despite the late hour. Someone could walk in at any moment.

Aemond quickly unzipped his pants and lowered his boxers, bringing his sucked-on fingers to his cock and quickly wrapping them around his base. 

Hard again, and she didn’t even know it… although that wasn’t new to him. But her pussy was craving him, he didn’t need to even ask. 

Surely if she was awake, she would beg for him. Her lovely eyes looking up at him from her height, her lips parted in babbling words.. he fisted his cock a few more times, spreading his precum around and preparing himself. 

Then he looked up, and her eyes were on his. Y/N was sitting up so slightly, resting on her elbows with her legs parted so deliciously for him. 

Aemond stepped closer, close enough to where his cock was resting between her thighs, and he reached his arms out for her.

Hesitantly, she leaned forward into him, letting him hold her body to his chest. 

She was still so sleepy, so innocent.. and it seemed too real to be a dream. 

Y/N caught herself subconsciously rubbing her hips against his for friction. Fuck did this feel too good.

“Aemond I-“

He let out a soft whine, letting his large hand cup her neck as he seared forward- passionately claiming her lips with his. “Don’t you dare,” he said breathlessly, “Don’t you dare speak. Give yourself to me dearest, do not make me fight you anymore than we already have…”

The woman could barely breathe as he kissed her when he was done with his orders, sucking on her lips and coaxing out her tongue with his own. 

Y/N pulled away to breathe, lost in an almost dizzy head spin. Fuck if this was real or not, fuck her morals.

“I was just going to ask you to fuck me,” she said, her snarky attitude still dripping into every word. She had imagined this moment enough, she had this pleasant dream numerous times… Y/N had practically rehearsed what she would say.

She watched triumphantly as his face morphed into one of anger. One sentence, and he had riled him up so easily.

Aemond almost laughed, but a dark sarcastic chuckle came from him. “Oh I promise I will,” he whispered into her lips, grabbing her neck and twisting her head to suck the skin of her neck into a bruise.

She let out another moan, closing her eyes at the pleasure and softly grinding her hips forward into him. His cock hung so deliciously in front of her, the hard shaft teasing her folds as she scooted forward off the desk and parted her legs.

Her clit throbbed, and she needed him now.

“Do it already, Aemond,” she ordered, and he groaned into her skin as he used his free hand to line himself up and push into her. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, immediately thrusting as deep into her as he could, not caring for her comfort. 

But she took it gratefully, throwing her head back at the feeling of being so full. It almost jolted her more awake- as if ice water had been poured over her head. She felt alive. And she needed more of it.

“Fuck you’re so tight” Aemond whispered, pushing in fully, partly throwing his head back, “I’ve waited for this so, fucking long-“

She buried her head into his neck, wrapping her legs right around him as his thick cock pierced her, stretching her out around him. Perhaps it was too good to be real, for he was already bringing her to the brink of pleasure.

Y/N barely registered the rough pads of his fingers on her clit before she was whimpering uncontrollably, attempting to meet his rough thrusts. 

“Please, please please,” she babbled, squirming on top of the table as he abused her clit, pressing on it delightfully, giving it the utmost attention as his cock pounded into her.

“Dirty girl.. you’re almost so close I can feel it,” Aemond teased, flicking at her sensitive nub faster as he pulled out. “Were you dreaming of me? No doubt you were, with how easy you take me now.”

She widened her eyes. Was this not a dream?

Y/N had no time to dwell on it as he thrusted hard back into her, sinking himself to his base completely. He pulled out once more and repeated it, taking his time with every thrust to drag his cock across that spot inside of her.

That spot that had her nails digging into his arms even through his shirt, that had her legs clenching tighter around him. Yes, he had found it. And he intended to abuse it.

“I’m so, close sweet girl, why don’t you cum for me?” He asked, moaning into her skin. Aemond fucked her with reckless abandon, using two of his fingers now to rub at her clit until her eyes rolled back into her skull and she bit at her lip to stop her loud cries. 

“You're always so eager to tell me off- what, has the cat got your tongue now?” 

He was met with just cries from his dearest Y/N, and he couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy it.

Finally he felt her snap under his touch, crying out his name and cumming around his cock as her legs shook around him. 

“Yes, y yes yes,” Y/N whined, her eyelids fluttering as she chased her high with him, clinging to him as if she might drift away in pure pleasure. 

“There love.. you’re so good,” he said, slowing his finger’s motions.

Aemond held her close, pulling out just as he came, his release painting her thighs and part of her stomach. He used his hand on his cock to jerk the rest until he had come down, and when he looked at her blissed out face he kissed her deeply. 

He hoped she could taste herself on his lips from earlier, and he smirked into their lip lock at the thought. Their bodies were so warm and he was breathless, so Aemond pulled away from her to cup her cheek and look into her eyes.

“You with me, Y/N?” Aemond asked quietly, rubbing his thumb gently on her skin. 

She nodded, eyes slowly closing. He had used that sweet nickname of hers, the one he refused to call her by.

Then she remembered.

“Aemond, are you with me? As in.. not a dream, is this real?” 

The blonde backed up, pulling up his pants and using a hand to brush his long blonde locks back into place.

He smirked, looking straight into her eyes and smirking as he licked his two fingers once more. 

Yet he didn’t answer.

Y/N blushed darkly at the motion, and she looked down at the mess they had made, taking in her surroundings. “Aemond…”

“Perhaps it is,” he interrupted- and his mischievous, confident face was replaced with an expression she was more familiar with. 

Coldness.

“Do not dwell on it, I will find you in dreams or not.”

[wanderingthroughsands]

V. The divine right of kings

Cutting through the avenues I'd always find my way to you Beside the hook, the hammer lies Fumbling round in the smoke Spending time chasing ghosts Hold me down, hold me down, child

- "San Luis" by Gregory Alan Isakov

Before I realized what was actually happening, I found myself in the most beautiful place I had ever seen. In the span of a single breath, I was transported from Fiddler’s Green to the very heart of an enormous, splendid palace hall, filled with colorful stained glass windows, solitary sunbeams, and carved columns supporting a high vault. The sharpness of the stone ornaments was softened by dancing reflections in every conceivable hue. The culmination of this long, magnificent chamber was a throne built upon a rock, rising above us like the peak of an unconquered mountain, and behind it were more grand stained glass windows, surrounding the throne with colorful light.

Dreamlord released my hand only to stand before me. Against the backdrop of his throne, he suddenly seemed even more sinister, even more powerful, and now both he and the attribute of his dominion towered over me in this exquisite center of the Kingdom of Dreams.

"This is my Dreaming, Rebecca Surrey," he spoke, his voice echoing through the hall that seemed literally endless. "From here, I rule over all Dreams and all Nightmares of all people across the universe. Here, individuals like you spend one-third of their lives. Here, I ensure that the harmony between dream and nightmare is never disturbed."

"Why have you brought me here, Dreamlord?" I asked, still looking around in awe. "This is not a place where I could have wandered on my own. And clearly, this is not a part of the Dreaming meant for sleeping humans.".

"I wish to show you how your strange power affects my world. So that in making future decisions, you are aware of what will happen if the part of Nightmare within you is not contained. Come with me."

He moved deeper into the hall, so I followed him, listening to the sounds of our footsteps on the stone floor. After a brief walk between the austere walls and reflections of colored light, we stopped at enormous gold-and-burgundy doors leading to another room.

Upon crossing them, I saw infinite rows of books and shelves of dark wood, filled to the brim and reaching up to the ceiling, bathed in the warm sunlight streaming through the Gothic-style windows. The library that Dreamlord brought me to was larger than I could have imagined, even bigger than the throne room. A pleasant silence reigned here, and even the scent was familiar – the scent of printed paper, fresh ink, the scent of stories trapped in the pages of books.

I couldn’t suppress the growing awe within me. The grandeur and majesty of this place made me hold my breath, absorbing the surrounding images.

“Lord Morpheus,” I whispered, and as he heard his name, he looked at me, and I am certain he immediately read all emotions on my face. “I have never seen anything so…”

“My lord?”

A voice coming from between the shelves startled not only me but also the Dream Lord. We both turned our eyes in its direction to soon see a dark-skinned woman emerging from behind a shelf, clutching a bundle of books to her chest. She wore a white blouse and a purple vest, with round glasses in black frames on her face. She seemed surprised to see Dreamlord accompanied by someone else. For a moment, she stared at me wordlessly—then her eyelids widened, and her lips parted slightly.

“Lucienne,” Lord Morpheus greeted her with a nod, completely ignoring the astonishment on her face.

“Is that—” The question died in her throat as she met his stern gaze. But she was silent only for a moment. “My lord, is it wise to bring a sleeping human to the palace? This part of the kingdom is not meant for her.”

“Rebecca Surrey is not merely a human, you know that as well as I do,” said the Dream Lord in a voice devoid of expression.

“But my lord, her power in the wrong circumstances could…”

“During her conversation with Matthew, she said something that gave me pause,” before finishing, he looked deeply into my eyes once again. “Since she was born from my mistake, it is my duty to correct said mistake. She did nothing to deserve to die for my error. Shouldn’t you, of all beings, understand my motivation best, Lucienne?”

Something was happening between them, something that must have been rooted in their shared experiences, something I could not grasp. They looked at each other, conveying doubts, arguments, and fears with just their gazes. Lucienne's brows were furrowed in an expression of skepticism, while Dreamlord’s face remained inscrutable. During those few seconds of silence between them, I watched this exchange of emotions, as if awaiting a verdict. Finally, the woman spoke:

"I hope you know what you're doing, my lord."

"We need your support, Lucienne," I could have sworn that for a fraction of a second, a shadow of a satisfied smile appeared on his lips. "Take Rebecca Surrey and me to the Ledger. I want to show her the damage she has caused so far."

Before we proceeded deeper into the library, Lucienne gave me one last glance over her round glasses. I had no idea what she thought of me or what I represented to her. I sensed distance, but I also sensed something akin to compassion, similar to when I first met Matthew. They both must have known what fate Dreamlord had in store for me, and they both must have felt sorrow, anticipating my imminent end. Analyzing the situation I found myself in, I probably should have been feeling constant fear—yet, for some reason, the presence of Dreamlord beside me was becoming less and less unsettling with each passing moment.

The "Ledger" turned out to be a thick, leather-bound book, which Lucienne, not without effort, placed on a heavy wooden desk. Since Dreamlord remained silent, the woman opened it and addressed me:

"In this Ledger are recorded all the Dreams and all the Nightmares that Lord Morpheus has created since the beginning of existence. To maintain harmony, the number of each has always been strictly regulated. Look," I leaned over the pages to see endless tables annotated with hundreds of footnotes, row after row, column after column, filled with names I had never encountered before. "As you can see, there are usually more Dreams than Nightmares, though not by much. Lord Morpheus ensures that the balance has been maintained since the dawn of time. Now, let me show you the entries from the past few years."

Lucienne turned the heavy pages of the Ledger and stopped at the year 2017—the year of my accident. Here, the tables still resembled those I had seen earlier. However, the further she went, the more one of the columns shrank—names were crossed out, then restored, then crossed out again, resulting in immense chaos in the section where Nightmares were recorded. By the last page, from the year 2022, there were at least half as many Nightmares as there were Dreams.

“I don’t understand…” I said, stepping back from the volume and looking between Lucienne and Dreamlord. “Am I killing all these Nightmares?”

“At first, you merely weakened them,” once he revealed the truth to me, Dreamlord began to look at me differently, as if, after a long lecture, he expected understanding from a very stubborn student. “They returned here wounded, and I did not know why. I thought the cause was the Vortex, the entity I told you about in Fiddler’s Green. But now…”

“Now the Nightmares do not return,” something in Lucienne’s voice clearly betrayed tension. “Only recently did I discover that the reason for their disappearance is a person who invades them and, with a strength far exceeding theirs, takes sleeping people away from them, disintegrating their existence in the process. You make the Nightmares you enter… vanish.”

I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t find any words. The tables, with numerous gaps where the Nightmares' names once were, still lay before me, and I couldn't stop thinking about how many disappearances my wanderings had caused. The images of the terror of all the dreamers I had visited began to blend with the image of chaos that Lucienne and Dreamlord had shown me.

Feeling my heart pounding harder, rising to my throat, I turned my face towards Lord Morpheus:

“What does this mean for me?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “Surely, you must know by now that I don’t want to be a threat to your world. Please, just let me go, and I promise never to wander into the parts of the Dreaming where I could harm you or your creations. I will no longer travel between Nightmares.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be enough,” he was as calm as ever, but in the way he cautiously and thoughtfully leaned towards me, I sensed something entirely new. “If you remain in the waking world with the power you possess, if I am unable to control you, you will still pose a threat to the Dreaming. And I cannot allow that.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

Asking that question, I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer.

“It was a mistake that you appeared in the waking world. My mistake, as you so kindly noted, which I intend to rectify now. Therefore, you can no longer return there, Rebecca Surrey,” he was so close that I could feel his infinite energy from the top of my head to the tips of my fingers. “You will save your life, but only if you accept the solution I offer. To maintain harmony, you will stay here and serve the Dreaming… as my Nightmare.”

[zaldritzosrose]

Run, Rabbit, Run (Michael x Reader x Martin)

Summary: Best friends since childhood, Michael and Martin did everything together. But no one expected that to include their romantic relationships. Michael had you first, but he couldn't deny the chemistry between you and Martin. So what happens when two friends, their girlfriend and a spooky fantasy all come together?

CW: MINORS DNI, afab reader, she/her pronouns, modern au (around 2000s ish), mentions of alcohol, polyamory (sharing is caring), profanity, innuendo, mask kink (reader's fantasy), threesome (mutual participation from all parties), minor primal play (fantasy about being chased), oral (m and f receiving), p in v sex, fingering.

Words: 5685

No beta...let chaos ensue!

You had met Michael first. He attended university with you and if someone had said you two would end up dating, you both would have laughed.

When you first met him, he thought you were, for want of a better word, stupid. Your outside gave the impression of an airhead, a princess who spent her daddy’s money. Michael had questioned how you got into Oxford in the first place.

He studied Mathematics, unsurprisingly when you found out. You studied English Literature. He wasn’t shy of telling you how pointless he found such a course, but you ignored him.

Somehow, the annoyed sighs in the library had turned into longing looks – more so from Michael than you to begin with. He couldn’t remember when he first started to think you were pretty. But all of a sudden, he found himself staring at you instead of his textbook.

Then, the one day you came to talk to him. Out of the blue. You had been looking for a book that just so happened to be on the shelf behind him. You were being polite when you said ‘Hello’ to him.

But Michael could have melted right there and then. The cute little jumper and skirt you had on. Reaching up to grab your book. The hem of your skirt rising just that little bit. He shouldn’t have looked; he knew he shouldn’t. But you looked like a dream.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Fast forward a few months and you were studying at the same table as him. Mutually studying your subjects in a comfortable silence. Study sessions turned to walks in the courtyard just chatting. Walks turned trips to the pub.

Soon, there wasn’t much time you weren’t at Michael’s side. Meeting after classes, eating lunch together. But he never worked up the courage to admit his feelings.

Until his best friend got involved.

Martin was his opposite in almost every way. They had been friends for as long as they could remember, but it was a friendship no one expected to last. Michael was logical, introverted most of the time, direct with how he spoke. Martin was a little more ‘act without thinking’, he worked on instinct.

So, when he found out about Michael’s crush on you? He was almost pushing him to ask you out. Telling Michael how it was obvious you liked him back. But when Michael chickened out…

Martin, being the good friend, took it into his own hands. Grabbing Michael’s phone and sending the message himself.

Michael could have dropped dead from embarrassment he was sure. But you replied…saying yes.

Next thing he knew, you were his girlfriend.

And a couple of months down the line, you met Martin. Michael knew the look. Martin thought with his cock. And he looked at you like he wanted to devour you. He could tell you noticed, blushing when Martin came close or made some thinly veiled innuendo.

It was only when you’d gone back to campus that Martin broached the idea of a more…unconventional relationship.

Michael had been surprised to say the least. Of course, he knew Martin would want you. You were a goddess, and he was a sucker for a pretty face. But was he really asking to date you as well as Michael?

But, with a push, Michael asked you. He hadn’t expected your answer.

Yes.

That was all you had answered. Michael realised, to his surprise, he was okay with it. Martin, despite how annoying a friend he could be, was a good guy. And he could probably give you things Michael couldn’t.

That was a year ago. Now, you were firmly settled into your life as a girl with two boyfriends. Your relationship with both was wildly different and yet comfortable.

Martin was a lot more forthcoming with the physical side of your relationship. It was no surprise that you had taken the bigger physical steps with him first. Michael was okay with that; he’d always assure you. He wasn’t as confident there as Martin was.

But Michael gave you things Martin didn’t. He liked the softer, sweeter side of your romance. Taking you on dates, cuddling and watching a movie.

There was a balance that just seemed to work.

Not that Martin wouldn’t take you out or Michael wouldn’t fuck you.

They were different, and that was perfect for you.

You were in class until the afternoon when Martin came over. It wasn’t often that he visited the university just to see Michael anymore, but it happened.

“When is she due home?” Martin asked, lounging on your bed whilst Michael studied.

You had been lucky with your room on campus. The halls you stayed in were quiet, not all the rooms filled. It was more of a spill over accommodation for anyone left over when the other halls filled.

Luckily, you were only a short walk from Michael’s halls. But you had long since given both boys a key to your room.

“Couple of hours, she said she’d text me when she left her last class.” Michael answered, not even glancing up from his notes.

Martin sighed. Two hours was a long time when he was the only one without something to do, considering Michael had his own class to study for.

To keep himself busy, Martin began wandering around your room. There were few things you hid from your boys, but the top drawer of your bedside table had always remained locked the entire time they had both known you.

Both boys had asked you what you kept in there, but you had never answered.

Being unoccupied brought the thought back to Martin’s mind.

“Did she ever tell you what was in here?” he asked, knuckle tapping the wood of the bedside table.

Michael shrugged, “Nope, I asked a couple of times and got nothing. So, I stopped asking.”

Martin frowned. Now the thought was in his head, he had to know.

Michael was deep in his textbook when he heard a rattle and then a scrape of wood against wood.

“What are you doing!” he snapped, spinning in his chair to see Martin pulling said locked drawer open.

“She’ll fucking kill you, you moron!”

Martin just laughed. He knew you’d never stay angry at him. He had enough tricks to make you forget whatever he’d done.

“Oh, come on, like you don’t wanna know what’s in here?”

Michael didn’t want to admit it, but Martin had a point. Who locked a bedside drawer? He wandered over to inspect the contents.

“Fine, but if she gets mad I’m blaming you.”

Martin pulled the drawer out fully, sitting it on your bed for a full inspection. Michael’s studying was long abandoned. Curiosity ate at him just like anyone else.

The contents looked relatively…boring. A few polaroid pictures of friends and family, a book and a little box which Martin eagerly found out contained your vibrator.

“Ooohh, our little bunny has a friend…” he chuckled but slid the toy back into the box.

Michael simply shook his head. His eyes remained trained on the book. Why would you lock a book away?

Without thinking, he pulled it out and began to flick through the pages. It took him longer than he’d care to admit figuring out the truth of what it was.

Your journal.

“Holy shit…” Michael muttered, just loud enough to draw Martin’s attention.

The brunette hovered over Michael’s shoulder as he read. Page after page of your inner most thoughts. About your course, your friends, your favourite movies and shows, even them – they lingered on those pages longer than others.

But some lines in particular caught Martin’s eye.

“…there’s just something about it that gets me so..hot. The idea of someone wanting you so bad, even if it’s in some dark and twisted way, that they’ll never stop chasing you.”

That wouldn’t have been unusual on it’s own. He’d seen the way you stared at the screen when ‘darker’ romances played out. No, it was the following line that got him.

“What is it about a mask though? Me and the girls were talking about it at lunch. Ghostface shouldn’t be as sexy as he is…he kills people. Michael Myers was brought up after that. That walk. It’s something else…”

Martin wasn’t usually surprised like that. There were few things he’d not tried in bed in his lifetime. But this…

This was something.

“You read it too?” Michael asked, seeing how Martin remained fixated on that page.

He only nodded in response, but Michael was sure he could hear the cogs turning in his head.

“Our girl has a mask kink, who knew.” Martin said finally, and it was like putting it into words made his mind click.

He grabbed the book from Michael’s hand, snapping it shut and placing everything back in the drawer. But Michael saw the look in his eye.

“I know that look.”

Martin smirked back, a plan almost fully formed in his mind.

“We have the Halloween party this weekend, right?”

Michael nodded, all of you had been invited to the annual Oxford Halloween party. Well, you had been and then refused to go without your boyfriends. And a Halloween party was the perfect place to act out your fantasies.

“What do you say to indulging our sweetheart?”

The boys left you a little note, about how they had gone into town to get their costumes for the party. Your costume had been bought weeks ago, excitement taking over. But the boys had been dragging their feet, despite your protests.

Lucky for them, you weren’t suspicious at all. Everything in your room had been left just as they had found it.

The night of the party rolled around. The whole university was thrumming in anticipation. Oxford parties went all out. Halloween, Christmas, New Year’s. Even Valentine’s Day sometimes. They were nothing short of an extravaganza.

You had your outfit all sorted, and it was so perfectly you. The tight, black dress laced down your back and showing off every dip and curve of your body. The ears topped it off though.

Your boys called you ‘bunny’, because apparently you were just as soft and cute as one. You liked it. It was different from usual pet names; it made you feel special. Martin especially loved whispering into your ear as you moaned beneath him.

You twirled in front of the mirror. The boys, surprisingly, had told you they’d meet you there. It was unlike them, but it also meant you had a full, distraction free two hours to get yourself ready.

The boys’ trip into town had been fruitful, easily finding what they wanted.

“Why do you get to be Ghostface?” Michael asked, looking at the navy boiler suit and Michael Myers mask on his bed.

Martin just rolled his eyes.

“You have the walk better than I do.”

It was mostly true. Martin couldn’t really explain it, he just knew that this way worked best. He had kitted himself out with a more ‘practical’ version of a Ghostface costume. Gone was the long, tattered black robe. In was a black long-sleeved tee, black jeans and a long black coat.

Practicality…for what they had planned anyway…was a little more important than accuracy.

The boys arrived before you. Michael constantly checking his phone to see if you had text to say you’d arrived. Martin looked relaxed as ever, he’d planned everything out and all that needed to happen now was for you to appear.

“She’s here!” Michael suddenly called out, all but jumping from his seat in excitement.

It was a nervous excitement that thrummed in his veins. Knowing they were going to act out one of your fantasies had him buzzing with excitement. Knowing they’d found out about said fantasy without your knowledge had him wallowing in a mix of guilt and nerves.

Your costume had been kept a surprise as much as theirs. And both of them audibly groaned when they saw you.

“What a sexy little rabbit..” Martin mumbled and Michael was already squirming a little, hand slipping down to adjust the growing tent in his boiler suit.

You almost bounced over, the bunny ears on your head flopping as you moved through the crowd. Always excited to see your boys.

“Happy Halloween!” you giggled, spinning around as you got to them and shaking the little puffball tail attached to your dress.

Michael simply choked on air. Even after a year, he was barely functional whenever you were the least bit flirty.

Martin handed you a drink, flicking the tip of one of your ears.

“You make a very pretty bunny,” he smiled, earning him a kiss before you leaned down and offered the same to Michael.

You hadn’t noticed their costumes yet, considering they were both maskless to drink and eat.

“So, what have you two come as?”

The smirk on Martin’s face and the nervous smile on Michael’s should have clued you in that something was up. But they had banked on your adorable obliviousness to keep their game going until the right time.

“It’s all a surprise, love,” Michael said, just loud enough over the low din of the party.

All in good time, they both thought.

They’d somehow managed to keep their costumes mostly a secret. You weren’t a heavy drinker, so after two drinks you were happy to just mingle and dance.

The bass thrummed under your feet. Michael behind you and Martin in front. The three of you always managed to find a rhythm no matter what you did. Dancing, sex, even just hanging out in one of your rooms.

Always perfectly in sync.

The party soon got a little too crowded and when the music switched to songs you weren’t worried about missing, you dragged your boys outside.

Perfect timing. Michael’s halls were closer than yours. The boys had planned it all out and luckily for them you continued to fall right into their plan.

They could see you were waning, the cool air more enticing than returning to the party.

“Do you want to go home, bunny?” Michael asked, your head on his shoulder as Martin smoked a few steps away.

You hummed in response, which he took as a yes.

A quick nod from Michael told Martin it was go time.

“Martin’ll head off and get the door open, I’ll walk you home yeah?”

You willingly moved as Michael stood, an arm around your waist as Martin headed off in front. When he was a good distance ahead, he slipped on the Ghostface mask.

“Showtime.”

The walk felt longer than you remembered. Or maybe you were just tired. Maybe you just couldn’t remember the path from the social hall to Michael’s room. It wasn’t a path you walked often, you had to admit.

But something felt…odd.

Michael was glancing around just a little too much for your liking. And why hadn’t they shown you their costumes?

You could see Michael’s halls approaching and his arm only tightened around your waist. He urged you forward as you pushed the door open.

And then your phone rang.

You hadn’t noticed Michael slip away as you pulled your phone from your bag. Who the hell would be calling you at this hour?

You answered the phone with a soft hello but got a silent pause in return.

“Hello?” you said a little more insistently this time.

The chuckle should have sounded familiar, but you were beyond confused.

“Do you like scary movies?”

You could have dropped the phone. You’d seen Scream. You knew the line.

“What the hell!”

You immediately hung up.

Only then, did you notice Michael was gone.

“Boys? Michael? Martin?”

No answer.

What the hell was going on?

Michael could hear you shouting. He felt a little guilty, but the halls were safe. He knew you were safe. Martin was going to be the first to show himself.

The hallway wasn’t dark, the lights warm as you wandered down to find Michael’s room. Maybe they thought you were right behind them? Not realising you’d stopped when your phone rang?

No, that didn’t make sense. Michael had been holding on to you.

Then your phone rang again.

“You didn’t answer my question, little bunny?”

Why…why was that voice so familiar? Your nerves were too on edge to think logically.

Michael watched from an alcove. Just a little longer…

“This isn’t funny…” you whined, but you didn’t hang up this time.

Martin was just outside the reception, mask on and leaning against the glass paned door. If you would just turn around, you’d see him.

“You look so cute, little bunny. Shake that tail again…”

You let out another whine and considered hanging up the phone. But you wanted to know who it was.

“Turn around, bunny…”

You had no hesitation in doing as you were told. Both boys were smirking under their masks at just how obedient you were.

“Good girl. Can you see me? I can see you.”

You turned just a little more. And then you saw it. Or him? The tall, dark figure pressed against the glass. Ghostface mask tilting in a way that made you shiver in both nerves and desire.

“Hello bunny…” the voice down the voice said, while the figure at the window waved.

This wasn’t a movie. Maybe it was someone trying to play a prank? Your thoughts didn’t even stray to your journal, the fantasies you had put to paper. But the desire that throbbed between your thighs should have reminded you.

“Who, who are you?”

The voice only laughed down the phone. A laugh so familiar yet you still couldn’t place it.

“It’s not me you need to worry about, bunny.”

Now that put you on edge.

The heavy steps coming up behind you had you torn between desire and fear. Before you knew it, you had broken out into a run.

Michael smiled under his mask. This was a lot more fun than he anticipated. He’d seen the flush in your cheeks, the way you rubbed your thighs together as you saw Martin in the window.

You had run close enough to the window for Michael to pass Martin.

“Keep her running for a little bit, get her upstairs to your room and I’ll meet you there.”

Michael simply nodded. He couldn’t lie, he was already semi-hard in his costume at just the idea of chasing you down. And a quick glance at Martin told him he was feeling much the same way.

The boys never crossed the line of intimacy in their relationship with you, but Michael had to admit…he could see why you liked the Ghostface look so much.

He could hear your footsteps rounding the far corner of the corridor and made his way back over.

All he had to do, was get you upstairs.

Martin made quick work of the steps, the key to Michael’s room in his pocket. He could just about hear your shoes against the wood floor downstairs.

Another phone call might do the trick.

You were panting when your phone rang again. You could hear the steps behind you still but hadn’t dared look. But that walk…

It was only when you glanced the reflection in the window did you realise what was going on.

Ghostface. Myers.

“Oh my god…” you mumbled, almost missing the call.

You were sure you knew it was your boys. But you’d be damned if you didn’t let your fantasy play out.

“Run, rabbit, run, rabbit. Run, run, run…”

Ghostface had to be Martin…you just knew it. Which meant Michael was Myers. That slow, powerful walk was ideal for him.

Your panties were damp at the thought. You didn’t even consider how they knew you’d like it.

You saw the stairs and made a break for it. If Michael was going to really play the part, he’d have to move slow. You had a chance to get a small reprieve.

Quick steps took you up the stairs. You didn’t even consider where Martin could have gone. But the thumping footsteps behind you told you Michael wasn’t far away.

Martin had the door unlocked, wide open enough for the light inside to be seen. He found a hiding spot and waited. Maybe you’d figured it out? Even if you did, it turned you on, why would you stop playing?

But the footsteps coming down the hall, one set hurried and one set heavy, told him it was about to get even more fun.

Michael had led you down so easily, without you even knowing. You saw the light on and dived inside the room. You recognised the posters as belonging to Michael.

“Fuck..” you muttered, and you realised then that this had been the game all along.

Martin remained quiet; he needed Michael in the room before they could continue.

The heavy steps got closer, your back pressed to the inner wall of Michael’s wardrobe in a poor attempt to hide.

It was only when you heard the door shut, that you knew it was over.

Then you heard Martin, confirming it was his voice on the phone.

“Come out, little bunny…”

They could hear your whimper, and Michael remained silent and completely in character. Their footsteps got closer, and you huffed when the door to the wardrobe tugged open.

“Look who we have here?” Martin sneered and before you knew it, Michael had you in his arms and out of the wardrobe.

Michael held you tight, reminding you how strong he could be despite his outward demeanour.

“Get her on the bed, if she’s a good girl, she’ll get a treat.”

You were roughly thrown down onto Michael’s bed, face first and your legs just hanging off the edge.

Michael and Martin simply stood, looking at you. They had fully planned how to get you up here, but the choice was…where to start?

You could tell it was Martin’s hands on your ass. Michael’s were making quick work of tugging the boots you wore down your legs. The firm touches had your skin on fire.

Martin had your dress pushed high, the soft lace of your panties making him groan beneath his mask.

You could only whimper softly as they maneuvered you. Michael was at the foot of the bed, and only know did you look up at him. The navy-blue boiler suit fit him all too well. The mask made his eyes look so dark you could barely see the icy blue you adored. And all he did was stare.

You had to appreciate just how in character they were.

Your hand was just about reach out and touch him when Martin’s hand landed a loud slap to your ass.

“Ah, behave yourself, bunny.”

You squealed at the contact. Your cheek burning from the impact. But a little part of you wanted him to do it again.

Michael’s hand reached out, gripping your wrists and forcing you to rest on your elbows. It was contact, but not the contact you wanted. His head tilted ever so slightly. The commitment truly impressive.

You felt the bed dip behind you, and you guessed Martin had climbed on to it. If there was one thing he enjoyed doing, it was showing off. And this time would be no different.

His hand trailed up and down your back. Pinging the straps at the back of your dress as he went. You couldn’t see it, but Martin met Michael’s gaze. A silent signal telling him what the plan was.

There was a chair at the end of Michael’s bed. Michael tugged it closer, giving him enough space to grip your wrists but seat himself in front of you. The combination of both of their touches was almost too much. You could barely concentrate on who was touching you where.

You could hear the jangle of Martin’s belt but at the same time you saw Michael unbuttoning his boiler suit. Martin slipped his fingers between the lace of your panties and your ass cheeks. Kneading and squeezing while your eyes remained trained on Michael.

It wasn’t the first time they’d had you between them. Usually special occasions, anniversaries, Valentine’s Day for example. It seemed Halloween was soon to be added to that list.

Martin’s fingers slipped lower and between your folds. Teasing you with almost feather light strokes.

“Keep your eyes on him, bunny.” Martin whispered; the coolness of his mask pressed against your shoulder.

You did your best. Michael had his suit below his waist, tugging off the cotton shirt he wore below. You never ceased to be impressed with how both of them looked. Deceptive physiques beneath their clothes.

His hand freed his cock from its confines. Hard from the mere sight of you on all fours and waiting.

Martin’s fingers found your bud, circling it slowly as Michael took his length into his hand. Pumping himself in almost perfect synchronisation to Martin’s fingers. Michael’s other hand remained firm on your wrist. Your hands mere inches from his cock as he worked himself faster and faster.

“Don’t make him do all the work.” Martin ordered you, pushing his fingers between your folds, curling them just the way you liked.

Michael shifted his hips, bringing the chair close enough to tug your hand to wrap around his cock. He knew he should be silent, but he wasn’t about to deny you the sounds you enjoyed the most.

The soft grunts and sighs he would let out just for you. Sounds that began to fall from his lips the second your hand touched his heated skin. Your hands were softer than his, but it was a feeling that always had his eyes rolling back. Your rhythm was a steady as possible, his hand guiding your wrist as your eyes squeezed closed from Martin’s touches.

“Oh, oh…” you whimpered, Martin’s fingers sped up.

Pushing deeper and deeper into your core, curling deliciously over your sweet spot. Your back arched, pushing yourself harder against Martin. Your backside rubbing against him and involuntarily making his hips begin to rut into you.

“Needy, needy little bunny…”

You thought it was Martin that had said it. But the voice came from in front of you. Michael couldn’t help himself. Your hand on his cock was enough to make him want to break character. He glanced a Martin, who only nodded. Your hand wasn’t enough for Michael and they both knew it.

Martin let his grip on your waist loosen, urging your forward as Michael stood. Your hand still gripped his cock, but Michael was quick to line himself up at your mouth. And you welcomed him instantly.

He pushed his mask higher, freeing his mouth and freeing the grunts that left him the second you took as much of his member into your mouth as you could. His hand tight in your hair, throwing the bunny ears off to the side.

Martin kept his fingers pumping, a firm smack to your backside making you jolt and take more of Michael’s cock down your throat. You could take it; they both knew you could.

Your slick was already dripping on to Martin’s hand. The combination of his fingers, the masks, Michael’s cock sliding in and out of your waiting mouth, you were aroused beyond anything you had ever felt before.

Your hips slowly began to push back in to Martin again, but he wasn’t going to give in and fuck you just yet. Both boys had agreed they would get their turn in your sweet warmth.

His own mask was pushed to his forehead, barely resting as he leaned down and swiped his tongue from your bud to your hole.

“Martin!” you whined out, muffled by Michael’s cock beginning to slam harder into your mouth.

Your moans vibrating down his length were almost enough to have him coming there and then. Both boys chuckled at your use of a name, wondering when you’d learned who was who. It didn’t matter really; the whole charade was almost forgotten.

His tongue continued it’s onslaught. Up and down, circling your bud and then your hole over and over again. Your hips pushing hard into his face, suffocating him almost in your flesh. His groans echoing through your body and making your eyes roll.

Michael tugged on your hair, reminding you to keep sucking and you complied immediately. You could already taste the salty pre-come on your tongue, you knew he was close. But before you could take anymore, he pulled back.

His face was suddenly at your level. Mask discarded as he kissed you.

“I’m only going to come in that pretty pussy, bunny.” His voice was almost sinful, lower than you’d ever heard it and laced with desire.

You were about to answer when Martin added his fingers back in, circling your pearl until you came with a wild moan of his name.

Before your tremors could subside, Martin pulled back and switched places with Michael.

“Fuck her good, our bunny is nice and wet.” Martin chuckled, replacing Michael in the seat in front of you.

You could see the bulge in his dark jeans. His hand palming himself as Michael turned you onto your back. He preferred you this way, knowing he’d be able to see your face.

Martin tugged his mask back down. You’d seen Michael in his, now it was your turn to see him.

“Think that mouth can take me?” Martin asked, unzipping his jeans and standing where Michael had been only moments ago.

You had your mouth open before he could even tug his jeans off. A long moan leaving you as Michael stroked your core. Your dress was soon tugged down, reminding your boys you’d gone braless tonight.

Michael had your panties down your legs and thrown to the side. He helped you shift up the bed, head hanging over the edge as Martin hovered near your face, the tip of his cock angled for your tongue to lick at.

Both boys pushed into you at the same time, your back arching up at the feeling. Martin let his head drop back. He’d never had your mouth at this angle before, but he made a mental note to do It again.

Michael pushed in slowly, spreading your legs wide so he could watch himself disappear in and out. He was already pent up from your mouth, this wouldn’t take long.

Once they found their rhythm, their pace was punishing. Smoothly sliding in and out of your mouth and cunt simultaneously. Your eyes rolling shut as your body succumbed to pleasure.

Michael’s hand returned to your chest, toying with both plump mounds until he felt his cock twitch inside you.

“Fuck…fuck…” he grunted, leaning forward and taking a nipple into his mouth as he painted your walls with his spend.

A few more thrusts had you coming around him, milking whatever was left to spill from his swollen head. His hands rubbing up and down your thighs as you came down from the high.

Martin pulled himself from your mouth, smirking as the string of his pre-come and your saliva dribbled down your chin as you sat up.

Your hands reached out for Michael, pulling him down for a kiss as you heard Martin shift onto the bed. Michael helped you sit up, Martin tugging off his shirt and laying down on his back.

You tugged his jeans off with shaking hands, Michael off the bed and stripping the rest of his clothes. He helped you climb over Martin, gripping your hips as you hovered over Martin’s cock.

“Got one more in you? Think you can be a good girl and ride him?” Michael asked, rubbing circles on your hips and pressing kisses to your shoulders.

You nodded, Martin’s hands sliding up over your stomach and up to your breasts. You knew what your favourite body parts were for them both, but they would both agree on their love of your breasts.

Michael held you up as Martin lined himself up at your swollen and soaked entrance. He slid in with barely any resistance, a growl of pleasure leaving his lips.

“Good girl, such a good girl.” Michael cooed, suckling at your neck and urging your hips to roll.

Your pace was slow, guided by Michael until you found the strength move on your own.

Martin’s hands remained on your chest, kneading and tugging at your nipples until they pebbled under his fingers.

“You feel so good, bunny. You’ve taken us both so well.” Martin grunted, replacing Michael’s hands with his as he began to slam up into you.

He wanted to watch you come again before you were finished for the night. Your breasts bouncing, your juices coating the skin and hairs on his body below. You were so close; he could feel it.

“Come for us, pretty bunny…” Michael groaned, having leaned back on the bed and begun to lazily palm himself with no intention of coming again.

It was like his words and the combination of Martin’s harsh thrusts were enough. Your body falling forward, head buried in Martin’s neck as you came for at least the third time that night.

Martin thrusted a few more times, his hands on your ass and squeezing as he pumped you full.

Your name was the last thing on his lips, his hands stroking your back as you stayed slumped against him.

He gestured for Michael to get you water and a cloth to clean you. Normally they’d have you in the shower to get cleaned up, but you were far too spent for that.

Martin held you, turning you onto your back as Michael cleaned the combined juices between your thighs. Your eyes were barely open, but the blissed-out smile on your face told them everything they needed to know.

“Thank you,” you sighed, snuggling between them as Michael slid next to your free side.

You weren’t going to question how they knew. Not right now anyway. But the boys had begun to wonder something…

What other fantasies were hidden in those pages?

Ewanverse Taglist:

@anjelicawrites @aemondsbabygirl @sylasthegrim

@legitalicat @thenameswinter99

@hoosbandewan @vhagar-balerion-meraxes

@errruvande @aemondsbabe

@towriteloveontheirarms @thought--bubble

@tumblin-theworldaway @mysticalendings

@arcielee @peachysunrize @multyfangirl

@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @kaelatargaryen

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something infinite • part nine

SOMETHING INFINITE • PART NINE Y O U C O U L D H A V E M I N E

part nine of something infinite – you were unafraid to face steve head on when he fucked up, but now it's your turn to face the music and it scares you | ( 2k, tiny angst, lil fluff, enemies to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader – find the rest of the series and more here and find the series playlist on spotify here)

J U L Y 1 9 8 7 🎶  j’s lullaby ( darlin’ i’d wait for you ), delaney bailey

The sun fell softly through Steve’s window. Fingers of light stretching over the shapes of you, his chest rising and falling with each breath, the fan above pushing cool morning air around the room before it grew too hot, sticky and warm in the Indiana heat. Slowly opening your eyes you blinked away sleep, Steve lazily swimming into focus next to you.

A mess of brown hair, the stretch of his shoulders, tiny little moled and freckled constellations chasing along his back, decorating the soft slope of his jaw, lips parted, long sweep of lashes kissing his cheeks.

The most obnoxious boy who’d stolen your heart. Had scattered it into a million tiny pieces. Helped you to pick them all up and put it back together. Had shaped it into something new you’d never expected and now.

What were you now?

Your eyes roamed the walls of his room, mostly bare, covered in checkered wallpaper with one lonely photo of a sports car framed over his desk. A lamp, a few books, a pair of 3D glasses, and a bowling pin? Your lips pulled up into a smile and you wondered at the story behind it. The chair at the desk had a pair of grey sweats hung over the back and a couple of his dresser drawers were half open with socks or shirt sleeves peeking out.

Steve’s room.

Sounds of morning trickled in through the curtains, the low hum of the pool filter, birds in the maple tree outside his window, the rumble of the tractors in the fields and your thoughts drifted back to the night before.

To Steve.

The way he felt.

Fingers pressing into your hips, mouth brushing warm against your neck, his pretty parted lips and the way he said your name. The inky black of his room swallowing you into its secrets, promising to keep the things you said to each other in the dark.

Turning onto your side you moved to face him, tentatively lifting a hand aching to trace your fingers over his shoulder, to search and feel and discover him in the daylight, but he pulled in a breath. Long and sleepy and languid and you drew your hand back, lip bit between your teeth. Hesitation holding you tight, winding you back, afraid to wobble things again. To undo all the repair.

Afraid of what the end of August would mean if you wondered too hard at it.

You wanted to stay, wanted to curl into Steve, fit against him like roots curled around the bottom of pot, but something in you told you to go. Go before he woke up.

So you slipped your legs over the edge of the bed, one of his too-long shirts dancing atop your thighs, and you quietly gathered your things. Curling your fingers around the door you pulled it open slowly, but you stopped short. A quick glance over your shoulder.

He was still sleeping and a smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Even tangled up in the mess of sheets he was so damn pretty, but one last look and you were down the stairs and out the door. Sandals clutched in your hands, bare feet gathering the morning dew as you snuck across the lawn back over to your aunt’s, you found everyone still sleeping there as well. No one none the wiser and your secrets safe with Steve.

It was early, but you could already feel the sun kissing your skin, hot and sticky on your shoulders and neck as you pushed your skateboard down the bumps of the pavement. You were never late for your shift at the library, but your alarm hadn’t gone off and Will had been the one to poke his head in on you.

It had all been a hurried mess as you threw on whatever you could find quickly, hesitating ever so slightly at the shirt of Steve’s sitting atop your dresser before grabbing a Pop Tart and rushing out the door.

Waves of heat lifted from the parking lot, making the library look like it was wobbling as you kicked up over the curb and jogged to the door. Joyce’s car was already in it’s spot and you felt your stomach sink at the thought of what she was going to say, but it immediately flipped over when you saw Steve’s car sitting next to it.

Of course he was here.

But now you were more worried about what he was going to say because he was the one you’d left without so much as goodbye the morning before. A poor attempt at avoiding an inevitable conversation. One you didn’t want to have. The one where you were leaving at the end of the August.

“Hey, sleepyhead!” your aunt caught sight of you as soon as you were in the door.

Shhh!

“Sorry!” Joyce tried again, an apologetic look given to the old woman reading at the table near the front desk. “Hey, sleepyhead,” she said quieter, giving you a little wave, “Doing okay? You seemed like you needed a few extra Z’s this morning.”

Your cheeks flushed as she pointed out you being tired, but you gave her a smile anyway, “Yeah! Yeah, doing okay. Sorry I’m late.”

“You’re fine, sweetie. Return’s cart is there at the end of the A–L aisle when you’re settled.”

Glancing up you saw the roller full of books, but no sight of Steve and your stomach flipped over again. He couldn’t at least have given you the advantage of knowing where he was in the library?

A sigh escaped you as you walked over to the cart and thumbed through the titles, seeing A through C had already been put back, and your eyes flicked up again to look down the row, but still no sight of him. Biting your lip between your teeth you knew you couldn’t just hang around waiting and instead grabbed the stack of D titles and got to it.

One minute ticked by painfully slow.

Then five.

Then ten. Eleven. Twelve.

Was he lost in the library? You almost asked Joyce, but didn’t want to draw anymore attention to it than was necessary and just kept at the task at hand, trying your hardest not to let your mind wander too far.

Leaning up on tip toe you wobbled, trying to slide the book you were holding into place, but a hand reached over yours to grab it before you could put it away.

“You’re in E, that one goes in F.”

It felt like you’d just been shocked, a tiny jolt of electricity up your arm as the hand brushed against yours, and when you looked over your breath hitched in your throat.

“I’m pretty good at reading,” Steve teased, a little grin tugging up at the corner of his mouth and you couldn’t help smiling yourself, swatting at his hand.

“Thanks, Einstein,” you half-whispered back, but his grin fell the longer he looked at you and your chest squeezed with nerves. “Get lost?” you tried to tease again, but the air had shifted and it came out weak.

“Could ask you the same thing.”

You shied away from him then, turning back to the shelf and finding F to put the book back correctly. “I overslept,” you answered, knowing that wasn’t what he was talking about. He hummed, still standing behind you, but you kept your eyes on the shelf hoping he’d leave it even though you knew better.

“Wasn’t a problem yesterday,” his tone was gently teasing, but softer. Wondering. Not angry, but wanting to know, “Why’d you leave?” You could feel his hesitation then and it finally made you turn around so that you saw the pinch between his brows as he worked through things. Looking at you eyes all brown sugar and honey, lashes sweeping his cheeks as they crinkled at the corners. A tiny sliver of regret, “Are you still mad at me?”

“No—“ you started, then huffed a sigh, “Shit.” Tossing the book you were holding back onto the cart you took his hand and led him further down the aisle, back to the corner he’d pulled you into all those weeks ago when you first met, away from eyes and ears and he followed.

It was quieter back there, away from the long bank of windows and air conditioning vents, away from the rows of computers and the beep of the book scanner, and when you turned around it was just you and Steve.

“I’m not mad at you,” you started, fingers picking at the frayed hem of your jean shorts, eyes on the carpet at your feet. This wasn’t you, wasn’t the confident you that took him head on. Called him on his shit. Walked to his door at midnight. Kissed him without a second thought.

Sensing something was off Steve reached a hand out, tangling his fingers with yours, and squeezed. A silent, Its okay. “What is it?” he brought his other hand to your chin and lifted it gently between his thumb and forefinger, meeting your eyes in the middle.

And everything was dizzy. Your thoughts hazy and muddled with the closeness of him. The scent of him all cedar and boy and fresh laundry. Scattered moles and dotted freckles. Skin warm like it held summer beneath it and you had to blink it all away before you spoke.

“Its just–” you sucked in a breath, trying to steady your words, but if you said it aloud it would make it real. Make this time you had here finite. It had an end. And so did you and Steve.

“Shit. I–I'm sorry if I hurt you or–or if it wasn’t good for you. I just, I thought that you know, you sounded like you were into it and so I kept going and–”

Your eyes went wide as you lifted your fingers to press to his mouth, the fastest way to stop his run away train of thought, and you had to bite back a laugh. “Oh my god, Steve. No. That part was…” heat turned your cheeks rosy. The way he said your name, the curve of his shoulders, teeth on skin and, “Not that. Promise.”

Relief washed over him and he huffed a nervous laugh, “Christ. Okay, yeah. Good. Great. That’s great.” He took a step closer to you then, fingers still wrapped around yours, brows pulling together again as his eyes searched yours, “Listen. If this is about you leaving…”

The laugh that had been ready to leap forth died with his words and you dropped your eyes back to the floor. He was wearing his stupid dirty Blazers again, white streaked in green from running in the grass. Dirt and tiny rocks wedged in the grooves. Your red Vans didn’t fare any better and he didn’t let you look long as he leaned down to catch your gaze.

“Hey," he pulled you out of your head and the way he looked at you made you feel like it was going to be okay. "We don’t have to talk about it. Not right now. That’s like…a month away or something. I didn’t even get you a strawberry shake from the diner yet." You smiled at the thought of that and he smiled back. "Still have to hit the drive-in and go to the bluff and the arcade and–” his hand cupped the soft curve of your cheek and lifted it, “–don’t worry about it, Princess.”

You leveled him with a look, “Ass." But there was no heat behind it as your lips twisted. Fighting against a smile despite that stupid nickname, and it pulled a grin out of him.

“Best one in town,” he joked, wiggling his eyebrows at you and you scoffed reaching out to swat at him, but he caught your hand and pulled you into him, arms wrapping snug and warm around your waist.

“After mine,” you teased softly and his grin melted as he leaned into you.

“Of course, ladies first,” and then he pressed his lips to yours, sweet like cherries and warm like sunshine, filling you up and spilling over at the edges as your hands tangled around the back of his neck.

Kissing Steve felt like forever. Like time stood still. Felt

infinite.

SOMETHING INFINITE SYNOPSIS: hawkins, indiana, 1987 – your mom is out of town for the summer on business and she sends you to live with your aunt joyce and her husband jim in hawkins while she’s gone. joyce works at the library and jim is the town sheriff – the kids, will, jonathan and el slowly warm up to you and it’s after you get in with them that you really start to feel at home, but there’s one person who just annoys you to no end. one person you’d love to just boot off a cliff – steve fucking harrington. ♥️ find the rest of the series and more here and find the series playlist on spotify here.

[hahahmitski]

Summary of each Mphfpc book

Book 1: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children

Starting of everything. Meeting his future family and going to find another Ymbryne to save Miss Peregrine.

Book 2: Hollow City

Meeting lots of Peculiars, kind of like expanding their boundaries of everything. Expanding knowledge of peculiars all over the word. Saving the children along with Miss Peregrine because the other one was Caul (a placebo), and finding out Jacob can control hollows.

Book 3: Library of Souls

Introducing Devils Acre and Sharron. Then finding all the children and Jacob controlling Hollows. Meeting a dude that's Miss P's other brother and him helping them when they helped him (an eye for an eye kinda). Then they find the children, but Jacob got caught and now that Caul found the library of Souls Jacob can see the jars and Helps Caul eat them. But before that The other brother of Miss P betrayed them. And them eatting souls and the Ymbryne's trap Caul and the other brother in a loop.

Book 4: Map of Days

Since Jacob saved the day he went back to Florida and his parents thought he was coo-coo but Mphfpc's wards saves the day. Then like all of Miss Peregrine's wards come and live with Jacob. Then they found more about grandpa's double life. Then Jacob found H who was one of the dudes that helped Abe. Then Jacob goes on a road trip with en, Em, Br, Mi. Then they travel to find this girl that H told them to find. Then along the way Emma and Jacob broke up. Then they find her and lost her. And Miss Peregrine got a call for Jacob and everyone goes home. And everyone is mad at Jacob. Also Claire snitched because she couldn't shut her trap about the road trip.

Book 5: Conference of the Birds

Jacob calls H again and he tells him to never come see him again. Jacob, the ignorant guy he is, visits H to see he is almost dead and Tells him to find V the other dude that worked with Abe. Then Noor got up and they had to flee because H was getting chased down. Then the went to find V with the instructions of Horatio's map. Then they found out they were being followed and boom! V's dead and Noors sad.

Book 6: Desolations of Devils Acre

They found themselves at Abe's house and Noors sad V died. Then they fled and found themselves at the house and everyone was worried. Then boom they got involved with a lot of things then they find out this dude wants to bring back Caul. Then boom! They went on a trip to sto Caul to be alive again but failedm then they fought Caul and I'll work on this later with more accurateness WIP

[pinkfey]

woe charity be upon ye

ummmm char fax bc i can't keep the cringe at bay !!

i thought it would be fun to make her eyes brown since the whole game is like oughhhh iladrin ouwahhh glowy eyes so <3 brown eyes the most specialest eyes duh !! <33

um everything that’s on their tab on the oc page !! hunter-born, circle-trained, enchantment-favorer. they're v good at fucking around with the mind and they're even better at bewitching ppl and getting them to like her <33 she’s a bit of a siren of sorts?? she’s beautiful and enigmatic and she knows it (to a degree) so she excels at manipulating that strength to her advantage

but they’re also just naturally good with people!! they bleed compassion and they put people at ease—it’s easy to be soft with her, like how caine instantly latched onto her. she’s even convinced blade to let her cut his hair 🤯

she is. so fucking short. u would think having hunter heritage would gain them a few inches but alas.. watch out the 5’1” commander-legate of the shepherds is on her way and she is pissed 😤

(yes they are teased mercilessly for this)

(she does wear heeled boots to compensate and no she doesn't care that it’s impractical!!)

they and red did date bc i’m a sucker for the one-was-in-love-and-the-other-thought-it-was-amicably-casual dynamic <3 and i love DRAMA <3

she’s gone through quite a few character shifts to turn her into the person she is now. as a kid she was quiet and sort of a brat!! compassion was her earliest lesson, one she scorned until she lost everyone. survivors guilt is crazy. she became determined to be all the things she was supposed to be: kind, generous, brave, determined to live up to her namesake. but she was so scared. at the circle, she crumpled in on herself, reserved, tentative, always observing. the friendships she built there (plus her newfound love of academics!!) helped her get to a healthier place. she still chose her words wisely, still loved her alone time, but she was comfortable with curveballs, with people, with playfulness. she adapted a very positive attitude and work ethic!! she never gave up on any pursuit!! she thought she was very ready for the real world when she left

she was wrong <3 lmao. the world is cruel and it tore her down and she spent years on the edge of disappearance, years wondering if this is all there is. she got tattoos, pierced her ears, battled some substances, fell in with the few bad crowds, but nothing satisfied and nihilism was beginning to wear her softness to the bone. her village long gone and shame preventing her from returning to the circle, haven was supposed to have what she’d been longing for since childhood: community. acceptance. lucky her !!

she loves rlly feminine things!! makeup and intricate hairstyles and laced boots and the like. she cannot be trusted to spend money responsibly when she sees a pretty trinket

they love children and want some of their own one day so badly. does this have to do with her incessant ache for family and the ghost of thirteen year old zori haunting their brain at all times.. yes 😔

she also loves FREAKS ❤️ mekduk, mirmir, blade—she practically collects strays

her tattoos are a bit random and nonsensical. they’re just.. things she loves!! things she wants to be defined by!! marigolds because she was born in spring, an apple because the smell reminds them of maj, an eye with a heart-shaped pupil indicative of their gift, a sparkly book because she and red shared their best memories tucked away in the library, et cetera et cetera!!

their besties are briony, chase, red and lavinet in that order. briony is an instant friend they’re such goons together, she and chase have a strange back-and-forth and she’s more comfortable telling him certain secrets than she is red (surprisingly), and she and red (after overcoming a certain hurdle) are able to fall back into their easy affectionate dynamic from when they were kids !! lavinet adored her from the get go and their shared interests just made them click 👯‍♀️

in this universe everyone is at least a little bit in love with them because they deserve a little obsession!! as a treat!! most in love to least in love: blade > briony > ayla > red > trouble > shery > tallys > chase > lavinet > halek. riel excluded but he loves her in his own way. yeah the three initial shepherds all catch varying degrees of feelings at the same time. that’s just the way it is.

they and chase actually.. contemplated fwb but decided it would never work, which is (shockingly) what brought them closer together as friends and why she prefers going to him for certain issues. there's a unique understanding between them that she doesn't have with anyone else. to the two of them, secrets are their love language

her whole theme is compassion as a chest wound !! literally the motto i created them around. but their two other biggest traits are her liveliness and will. like they’re kind of a cringefail loser at times but despite that she never ever ever gives up. a bit stubborn? sure. but wholly earnest bc tbh that’s the most endearing trait a hero can have 🤧 she’ll push through anything and everything

i eventually want them to cut their hair into a bob. why?? bc it would be cute w their streaks of white. lich rally no other reason. how cute would she be?? so cute.

also charity is probably (???) not her real name !! it’s like a tiefling virtue name <33

if u read any of this ilysm bc i don’t know what i wrote i’m just talking 💕

[kingsbridgelibraryteens]

Libraries and Librarians on Film: You're a Big Boy Now (1966)

This film is notable, not just just because it prominently features a library, but because it features the central research library of OUR library system! It features such NYPL treasures and landmarks as our famous reading room, the Patience and Fortitude lion statues, the Gutenberg Bible, the stacks beneath the library where staff members wear roller skates to get back and forth through the stacks quickly (wait ... what?), and the giant walk-in safe where the library keeps its classic pornography collection (wait ... WHAT???)

Needless to say, there is SOME fictionalizing of our library in this film!

Now, if I was going to discuss this entire film, it would take a LOT of posts, because there are so many topics worth discussing. I could share all of the New York City locations that are frozen in time, like the Automat, the last of the old Penn Station as it was being demolished, the "OLD" Times Square (if you know what I mean), and the Alice in Wonderland statue in Central Park. I could also discuss the intricacies of the plot, like how a young man named Bernard Chanticleer who works for the New York Public Library feels overwhelmed by many things in his life, including his relationship with his parents, his desire for two different women, and the challenge of living in the same building as an aggressive rooster. Or I could talk about how this film is populated by a very strange cast of characters, including, I kid you not, an albino hypnotherapist with a wooden leg!

Okay, but since I'm NOT going to talk about all of that, let's focus on the vintage NYPL stuff, shall we?

No one will be seated during the gripping CARD CATALOG scene!

BTW, if you're wondering (like I was) what books she's looking up and requesting, WE NEVER FIND OUT!!!

Here's Francis Ford Coppola's credit, over a shot of the book elevator. Fun fact: you're only supposed to use this elevator for books, NOT staff members!

Here's our hero Bernard holding his roller skates, listening to his colleague Raef tell him why he shouldn't ride in the book elevator.

This is a cool shot of the interior of the library's main hall. If you come in through the main entrance on 5th Avenue, look up and you'll see these archways.

Ah, yes. THE VAULT. If the head of the library (I.H. Chanticleer, played by Rip Torn) wants you to go in THE VAULT with him, you should run in the other direction.

FYI, this plot point was one of the reasons that NYPL objected to having this movie filmed in this building. From IMDB trivia:

Francis Ford Coppola was desperate to film on location at the New York Public Library but the library refused because of the scene involving classic pornography locked up in a steel vault. However, Mayor John V. Lindsay was eager to promote the city and prevailed on the Library to change it's mind. This is why Lindsay gets a special thanks credit. The vault scene was eventually filmed on a sound stage.

Now, one of the movie's plot points that is technically true is that NYPL does own one of the famous Gutenberg Bibles. They don't leave it out in the open, though, which is probably a good thing ...

Because this makes it easy for Bernard to steal it ...

And run through the reading room ...

... and run outside with it down Fifth Avenue ...

... and this chase scene continues downtown, right through a department store where people apparently didn't realize that they were being filmed! From IMDB trivia:

The chase through the store occurred at the Mays department store on East 14th Street and Union Square. It happened during normal business hours and used hidden cameras.

I hope that you enjoyed this unusual tour through the yesteryear of the New York Public Library, where some ideas worked, but other ideas were sometimes a problem:

FYI, I can't find any evidence that NYPL staff ever used roller skates to get around the stacks. Mr. Coppola said in an interview on TCM that his older brother told him that "... below in the stacks, the young people who get the books are on roller skates. I don't think it was true." HOWEVER, it appears that this urban legend has some layer of truth, because it was reported in The New York Times that this technique was once employed at the NYU library!!!

If you would like to experience You're a Big Boy Now for yourself, you can check it out on DVD from the New York Public Library. It's available to watch through the Internet Archive, and you can also keep your eyes peeled in case TCM shows it again!

ETA: in case you’d like to get the vibe of this movie without watching the whole thing, TCM has a clip of the first several minutes of the movie on its website! Red-hot card catalog action! Walking through the reading room! PNEUMATIC TUBES!!!!! Plus, some amazing music!

[sheetmusiclibrarypdf]

The Best of Hans Zimmer (sheet music available)

The Best of Hans Zimmer (with sheet music DOWNLOAD HERE)

Hans Florian Zimmer (born 12 September 1957) is a German film score composer and record producer. Zimmer's works are notable for integrating electronic music sounds with traditional orchestral arrangements. Since the 1980s, he has composed music for over 150 films. His works include The Lion King, for which he won the Academy Award for Best Original Score in 1995, the Pirates of the Caribbean series, Interstellar, Gladiator, Crimson Tide, Inception, Dunkirk, and The Dark Knight Trilogy. He has received four Grammy Awards, three Classical BRIT Awards, two Golden Globes, and an Academy Award. He was also named on the list of Top 100 Living Geniuses, published by The Daily Telegraph. Zimmer spent the early part of his career in the United Kingdom before moving to the United States. He is the head of the film music division at DreamWorks studios and works with other composers through the company that he founded, Remote Control Productions, formerly known as Media Ventures. His studio in Santa Monica, California has an extensive range of computer equipment and keyboards, allowing demo versions of film scores to be created quickly. Zimmer has collaborated on multiple projects with directors including Ridley Scott, Ron Howard, Gore Verbinski, Michael Bay, and Christopher Nolan.

Hans Zimmer | Soundtrack Compilation

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IqiTJK_uzUY Find Franz Zimmer's complete sheet music books in our Library.

Track list: Interstellar 00:00 - 01:05 - Organ Variation 00:00 - 03:54 - Tick Tock 03:54 - 05:10 - Cornfield Chase 05:10 - 08:08 - Where We're Going 07:55 - 08:56 - No Time For Caution Inception 08:57 - 13:17 - Time Pirates of the Caribbean 13:15 - 14:18 - Davy Jones 14:19 - 16:15 - The Kraken 16:15 - 18:17 - At Wits End 18:17 - 20:13 - What Shall We Die For 20:13 - 24:02 - One Day 24:03 - 26:37 - Up Is Down 26:38 - 30:05 - Drink Up Me Hearties Batman Trilogy 30:06 - 30:34 - Bank Robbery 30:34 - 31:45 - Antrozous 31:45 - 32:18 - Barbastella 32:19 - 33:06 - Vespertilio 33:05 - 36:07 - A Dark Knight 36:07 - 36:33 - Aggressive Expansion 36:33 - 36:41 - Im Not A Hero 36:42 - 39:51 - Like A Dog Chasing Cars 39:51 - 42:08 - Despair Man of Steel, The Da Vinci Code, Gladiator, The Last Samurai, Blue Planet II, Planet Earth II 42:09 - 44:19 - Flight 44:15 - 47:57 - Chevaliers de Sangreal 47:57 - 50:34 - Now We Are Free 50:35 - 51:42 - Spectres In The Fog 51:42 - 54:25 - Safe Passage 54:26 - 56:48 - The Blue Planet 56:48 - 58:11 - Planet Earth II Suite

Hans Zimmer, a short biography.

Hans Florian Zimmer (born September 12, 1957, in Frankfurt am Main) is a German film composer, arranger and music producer. He works in Hollywood. He has been nominated eleven times for an Oscar, fourteen times for a Golden Globe Award and eleven times for a Grammy Award. Hans Zimmer received his first Oscar nomination in 1989 for the film Rain Man. In 1995, he was awarded an Oscar for the film music for The Lion King. In 2010, he received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. A star followed in 2011 on the Boulevard der Stars in Berlin. Zimmer was awarded the Federal Cross of Merit 1st Class in 2018. Hans Zimmer's soundtrack albums have sold more than 25.4 million copies worldwide. Hans Zimmer was born in Frankfurt am Main, the son of chemical entrepreneur Hans J. Zimmer. As a child, he learned to play the piano in his parents' house, in the Villa Gans in Kronberg, although he only had a piano teacher for a short time because he didn't want to submit to his discipline regarding the basic rules for a pianist. On the Harald Schmidt Show on February 15, 2002, when asked if he had music lessons, he replied: 'Yes, I had them for a week. It was like that, either I would have killed the teacher or he would have killed me.” He was a graduate of Hurtwood House boarding school in Dorking, Surrey, England, and played synthesizers in groups such as Krisma and Helden (with Ultravox drummer Warren Cann). He did not go through an academic musical education. Hans Zimmer is married and has four children. In 1999, at a press conference on the Holocaust documentary The Last Days, he declared that he was Jewish. In 1939 his mother fled from the National Socialists to England.

Years in England In the late 1970s, Hans Zimmer was a composer of commercial music jingles and worked on the modular synthesizer in the video clip of the Buggles hit video Killed the Radio Star. He composed advertising and radio jingles in the London studio Air Edel. There he met the well-known English film music composer Stanley Myers, whose assistant he became in 1980. Zimmer learned a lot about composing for an orchestra from him. Through this collaboration, he received his first smaller commissions for composing film music. In the late 1980s, he drew attention to himself with the soundtrack for films such as Rain Man. Hollywood Zimmer was best known in the early 1990s for his innovative combination of orchestral and synthesizer sounds. With Ridley Scott's Black Rain and Ron Howard's Backdraft - Men Who Walk Through Fire, he created a new style of setting music to action films. Backdraft in particular is considered a milestone in film music history: Zimmer's decision to set the film to music with a so-called 'wall-to-wall score', i.e. to underlay the majority of the film with music, created the prototype for many action film scores that were later released in Hollywood were produced. The style, roughly based on a powerful main theme, rhythmic action motifs, and gentler passages for the two main characters (portrayed by Kurt Russell and William Baldwin), is found in numerous later film scores. Together with his partner Jay Rifkin, he founded the film music studio Media Ventures in the mid-1980s. In 2003, after a legal battle with Rifkin, Zimmer took over the business with his company Remote Control Productions. Remote Control is a kind of talent factory, in which some other film music composers, such as Examples include Steve Jablonsky, James Dooley, Heitor Pereira, and Geoff Zanelli. Notable former Remote Control composers include Klaus Badelt, John Powell, Nick Glennie-Smith, Mark Mancina, and Harry Gregson-Williams. After completing work on Illuminati, Zimmer planned to give a few concerts, but this has only been possible to a limited extent so far, as he has been accepting new orders. In an interview with the website Amazona.de, he said that most of the directors he works with are his friends, so he finds it difficult to turn down an assignment from them. Finally, in 2016, Zimmer was on a major tour of Europe with an orchestra of 70 musicians. Various of his soundtracks were played live in front of an audience, combined with short stories by Zimmer, e.g. about the death of Heath Ledger in 2008, shortly after filming The Dark Knight. The live tour premiered on April 6, 2016, at Wembley Arena in London. The tour ended on June 5, 2016, with a concert in the ancient theater of Orange. Johnny Marr accompanied Zimmer on the electric guitar at a few selected concerts in London, Berlin, Prague, Manchester, Dublin and Orange. Zimmer received a great deal of attention after his concert on April 22, 2016, in the König-Pilsener-Arena in Oberhausen, when he played Prince's song Purple Rain after his death. In 2017, Zimmer was again on the road on a live tour, for the first time in the United States, Australia, New Zealand and South Korea. The concert tour began on April 14, 2017 at the Microsoft Theater in Los Angeles and ended on October 7 at Seoul Olympic Stadium. Zimmer now lives and works in Los Angeles and is one of the most successful and influential film composers in Hollywood history. In 2018, Hans Zimmer was nominated for an Oscar for the eleventh time. In the European Year of Intercultural Dialogue 2008, Hans Zimmer was an ambassador in Germany. The aim of the European Commission's campaign was to inform people in all 27 EU countries about the benefits of diversity and to get them excited about intercultural exchange. In response to the Aurora attack in July 2012, he released the composition Aurora. All proceeds should be donated to the victims and their families. Style The use of ethnic instruments such as B. the duduk in Gladiator (played by the Armenian duduk player Djivan Gasparyan), flutes in Rangoon - In the heart of the storm or taiko in Last Samurai, is one of his trademarks. This also includes compositions with African influences, such as B. Two Worlds, In the Glory of the Sun, The Lion King and Black Hawk Down, but also music for comedies like It Can't Be Better or Tricks or for the action film The Dark Knight Rises. He works regularly with directors Ridley Scott, James L. Brooks, Gore Verbinski, Penny Marshall and Christopher Nolan. Hans Zimmer himself describes Ennio Morricone as his great idol. Zimmer frequently collaborates with the same musicians. In many pieces of music, a guitar is played by Heitor Pereira or a cello by Martin Tillman. Long before filming begins, Zimmer usually composes suites that contain all the essential components of the later film music. Towards the end of the production, the suites serve as the basis for the music, which is written directly to the picture. But the suites themselves are mostly used in the film and on the soundtrack - e.g. For example, tracks 9 through 13 from The Da Vinci Code soundtrack are the suite written by Zimmer. In an interview, Zimmer explains this way of working as follows: 'I've been thinking about how I've been working lately. Writing things before shooting is a better way. Film technology has changed so much in recent years, especially with computer effects, that it is now possible to make last-minute changes to the film. I think the old way of waiting for the film to finish editing and then writing and recording the music for the last six to twelve weeks or whatever doesn't work anymore these days. So it makes sense to write some of the music before those 12 weeks. That gives you and the filmmakers something to work with while you think about the music to go with the picture. That way, you might have more influence on the style of the film. It also solves those annoying temp track issues.” – Hans Zimmer Other composers often help Zimmer with his music, especially towards the end of film production, by orchestrating, arranging or composing parts for him based on his suites and musical ideas. This collaborative way of working is controversial for some film music fans, but not entirely uncommon in Hollywood. Rupert Gregson-Williams says the following in an interview: “Hans is an icon and – in my opinion – most of the criticism against Media Ventures is completely unfounded. The most common misconception is that everyone works on the issues while Hans gets the credit for it. Well, I worked with Hans in Los Angeles for three months on different scenes for The Prince of Egypt - the sandstorm sequence where Moses is woken up by a camel and the scene with the death of the firstborn - and all the themes were written by Hans. My job was to take the thematic content from Hans and work it into my pieces for the scene. There was a lot of discussion and talk about the contextual meaning behind the film and how the music relates to it, but the driving force behind it was Hans. Just to watch him work, to be creative and to be in this atmosphere for once was wonderful. Also, Hans is a phenomenal orchestrator. That's something people don't understand.' – Rupert Gregson-Williams Hans Zimmer not only composes, but also takes on the execution as the responsible music producer for films, such as 2006 with Over the Hedge and 2015 with Terminator: Genisys. 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