#we bring warm leads to your doorstep.

[pedroscowgirl]

Unfinished Business

Aaron hotchner x fem!reader

Fluff/Angst (?)

Masterlist

Summary: Years after a brief romance with Aaron Hotchner, you’re raising your son, Noah, without telling Aaron about him. When Aaron returns on a case with Rossi, he discovers Noah and realizes the truth.

wc: 2.4k

A/n: I want a child with this man so badly, you don't understand. Also Haley exists in this universe but there was no infidelity going on cuz they were already divorced

As you opened the door, the familiar figure of Aaron Hotchner took your breath away, just as he had the very first time you’d met him years ago. He stood there, stoic and intense, dressed in his crisp suit, his FBI badge clipped neatly to his waistband. Beside him was Agent David Rossi, who offered you a warm, knowing smile. Your heart fluttered despite the years and the reasons you’d had for staying away. Aaron’s presence had a way of grounding you and scattering your thoughts all at once.

“It’s good to see you, Aaron,” you managed to say, your smile a bit hesitant as your eyes met his. It was surreal to see him here, standing on your doorstep, knowing what you knew—knowing you shared a bond far deeper than anyone else in the room could understand. He nodded, his face softening for a moment, but only slightly. Aaron wasn’t one to let his emotions slip easily, especially when he was on duty.

The memories hit you like a wave. Years ago, during a particularly intense case, one night of letting your guard down, of allowing yourself to forget the pain of your own past, had led to a night that changed everything. You and Aaron had been working late, tracking leads that kept twisting into dead ends. He’d looked exhausted, and there was a sadness in his eyes that he never quite allowed to reach the surface. And you, needing comfort just as much, found yourself drawn to him in ways you hadn’t expected.

That night left you with more than just memories—it had given you Noah, your beautiful son who had his father’s deep, piercing eyes. But fear had silenced you. Aaron’s life was complicated, even dangerous, especially after the tragic loss of his ex-wife, Haley. You had no doubt that he would’ve done anything to protect you and Noah, but you’d chosen silence, unable to bring yourself to risk it. You couldn’t imagine Aaron’s pain if he lost another family.

Now, he was here, with Rossi, to question your older son, Matt, who’d witnessed something related to their latest case. Matt’s father was out of the picture, and you’d raised him on your own before Aaron ever came into your life. He was old enough now to understand the importance of keeping quiet, of paying attention, but his heart was still innocent. You could see him from where you stood, a bit nervous but doing his best to remain calm under the weight of Aaron’s questions.

Rossi lingered near you, watching the exchange from a distance, and his eyes softened as he turned to you. “It’s been a long time, huh?” he asked, his voice kind, carrying that subtle warmth you’d always associated with him. It was almost as if he’d known, all along, about the connection you shared with Aaron.

You nodded, your gaze drifting back to where Aaron was crouched, speaking to Matt with a gentleness that made your heart ache. “Yes,” you replied softly. “It’s… nice seeing you two again. I just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.”

Rossi gave a knowing smile, nodding slightly. There was something in his gaze that hinted he was piecing things together in a way only he could. He didn’t know what you and Aaron had shared, not fully, but he had always sensed something—an unspoken bond.

When Aaron finished with Matt, he stood, thanking him before walking back to join you and Rossi in the hallway. “Thank you for your cooperation,” he said, his voice formal but kind as he glanced between you and Matt. “We’ll let you know if we need anything else.”

You managed a smile, and Aaron held your gaze just a little longer than necessary before turning to look around the room. You felt his eyes moving over the walls, the hallways, and there was a pang of anxiety in your chest as he seemed to study every detail.

“Would you mind if we take a look around?” he asked, his tone polite yet firm.

You swallowed, pushing down the spike of fear. “Of course,” you said with a nod. “Whatever you need.”

As Aaron moved through the house, you couldn’t help but feel nervous. In one of the bedrooms, down the hall, Noah was playing quietly. You hadn’t told him about Aaron—he was too young to understand the complexities of adult life, of secrets and choices made out of love and fear. You hadn’t planned to introduce them, and yet you found yourself in a situation that you hadn’t anticipated.

Aaron’s footsteps echoed as he moved room by room, a meticulous investigator at heart. You heard a slight creak, then a soft thump coming from Noah’s room, followed by a small giggle. The sound made you freeze, and you forced yourself to stay calm.

Aaron stopped just outside the door, turning back to you with a furrowed brow. “Is someone in there?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

“Oh, uh…” You stammered, struggling to come up with an excuse. “It’s probably just… the cat,” you said quickly, even though you knew he’d never buy it.

Aaron’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he stepped closer to you. He was so close you could feel his breath, the familiar warmth of his presence stirring feelings you’d tried to bury long ago.

“Mind if I take a look?” His voice was soft but insistent.

You hesitated, then gave a small nod, stepping aside as he reached for the door. Your heart pounded as he opened it, revealing Noah, sitting on the floor, surrounded by his toys. Your little boy looked up with a bright, innocent smile as he saw you.

“Hi, Mommy!” he chirped, scrambling to his feet to give you a hug. You hugged him back, feeling the warmth of his tiny arms, knowing that this moment was one you couldn’t control anymore.

Noah then turned his attention to Aaron, studying him with the same thoughtful curiosity that Aaron often had when he observed a room. “Who’s that?” he asked, pointing at Aaron, his wide eyes brimming with interest.

You glanced between Aaron and Noah, forcing a smile. “He’s a real-life FBI agent, sweetie. Isn’t that so cool?”

Noah’s face lit up, excitement bubbling over. “That’s awesome! I love FBI agents, they’re the best!”

You swallowed, feeling a mixture of pride and sadness as you watched Aaron’s expression soften, his gaze fixed on Noah. Aaron knelt down, reaching Noah’s eye level, and smiled gently. “Hey, buddy. I need to talk to your mom for a second, okay? We’ll be right back”

Noah nodded eagerly, distracted by his toys as he plopped back down on the floor. You led Aaron out of the room and as the door clicked shut behind you, an intense silence filled the hallway. You turned to face Aaron, nerves twisting in your stomach as you took in the look on his face. He seemed almost haunted, his eyes searching yours, his expression tight with emotions he rarely let surface.

“How old is he?” Aaron asked again, voice barely above a whisper. There was a heaviness in his words, a weight that seemed to settle over both of you. You swallowed, feeling the enormity of this moment crashing down on you.

“He’s seven,” you admitted softly, your voice thick. There was no point in hiding it anymore. You could see that Aaron had already pieced it together, every detail you’d tried so hard to keep hidden.

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a shaky breath. When he opened them again, they were filled with an ache that went straight to your heart. “You know better than to lie to me,” he murmured, a faint edge of hurt in his tone, though his words carried more sadness than reproach.

You felt your heart sink, realizing just how deeply you had wounded him. He took a step closer, his tall frame filling your vision, and lifted a hand to your chin, his fingers gentle as he tilted your face up toward him. “Is he mine?”

It was a simple question, but you could feel the years of unspoken words, hidden fears, and bottled-up emotions woven into it. He wasn’t just asking about Noah, he was asking about everything you’d kept from him, every quiet decision you’d made, alone, to shield him from this truth. You could see the vulnerability in his eyes, a rare and fragile openness that you knew he didn’t offer easily.

“Yes,” you whispered, the word barely audible, yet heavy with the truth. “He’s yours, Aaron.” The relief of finally saying it out loud, of finally sharing this secret, was immediate and overwhelming.

Aaron’s gaze dropped, his shoulders sinking under the weight of the revelation. He took a steadying breath, his jaw clenched as he struggled to compose himself. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was soft, carrying a trace of hurt that you couldn’t ignore. “I had a right to know. I had a right to be a part of his life… of your life.”

The words cracked something open inside you, bringing a wave of regret that left your chest feeling tight. “I know, Aaron. I know,” you whispered, looking down. “I was scared… After what happened with Haley, I just—I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. Or losing you. I thought… I thought if I kept quiet, it would be safer. For both of us.”

Aaron’s face softened, his gaze growing distant as he absorbed your words. He was silent for a long moment, as though he was processing every choice, every decision you’d made, the sacrifices you’d shouldered in silence. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. “I understand why you were afraid. But that was my choice to make too. He’s my son… I wanted to be there for him. For both of you.”

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes as you looked up at him. His words were so tender, filled with a sorrow that cut straight through you. You could see in his eyes that he meant every word, that the years he’d missed with Noah weighed heavily on him.

“I’m so sorry, Aaron,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought… I was protecting him.”

Aaron’s hand came up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped down. The touch was achingly tender, his gaze filled with a depth of understanding you hadn’t expected. “You don’t have to do it alone anymore,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, yet brimming with a fierce determination.

His words hung in the air, offering a lifeline you hadn’t realized you needed. You felt a rush of relief, of gratitude, mingling with the regret that still lingered. “Aaron, I… I don’t know what to say.”

He shook his head, giving you a faint, bittersweet smile. “You don’t have to say anything. Just… let me be a part of his life. Of your life. I don’t want to miss anything else.”

A flood of emotions washed over you—hope, relief, and something you hadn’t dared to feel in years. You reached out, covering his hand with yours, and squeezed it tightly, grounding yourself in the warmth of his touch.

“You’re welcome in his life, Aaron. Always,” you said softly, your voice filled with a promise.

And with a deep breath, you and Aaron walked back into the room where Noah was, sitting cross-legged on the floor, playing quietly. He looked up, his face lighting up as he saw you both walk in. Aaron took a step forward, crouching down to be eye-level with him, and your heart raced in anticipation, knowing what he was about to say.

“Noah,” Aaron began, his voice soft and steady. He glanced at you for reassurance, then continued, “I want to tell you something important.” He paused, his gaze holding Noah’s with a mix of warmth and vulnerability that made your chest tighten. “I’m not just an FBI agent… I’m also your dad.”

Noah’s eyes widened in surprise, blinking as he processed Aaron’s words. You could see the wonder and a spark of happiness glimmer in his expression, his small face filled with curiosity. “You’re… my dad?” he repeated, a hint of awe in his voice.

Aaron nodded, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched Noah’s reaction. “Yes, buddy. And you know what? You have a big brother, too. His name is Jack, and he’s going to be so excited to meet you. I know you two will be great friends.”

A slow, happy smile broke across Noah’s face, and without hesitation, he reached out to hug Aaron. Aaron’s face softened even more as he wrapped his arms around Noah, pulling him close. In one smooth motion, he lifted Noah into his arms, holding him as if he’d been waiting to do so for years. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from them, your heart swelling as you watched this long-awaited connection unfold before you.

Aaron looked at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and love as he held Noah. He took a few steps closer to you, and, without another word, he leaned in and kissed you. The kiss was warm and full of unspoken promises, his free hand resting gently at your waist while Noah nestled comfortably in his arms. Your hand drifted up to his hair, fingers tangling softly as you deepened the kiss, savouring the feeling of being this close to him.

When you pulled back, both of you were smiling, a new warmth shared between you. As Aaron held Noah, still beaming, you felt as if a missing piece had been found, and in that moment, you truly looked like a family.

A soft sound from the doorway caught your attention. There stood Rossi, his arms folded and a knowing smile on his face as he took in the scene. He gave you both a small nod, his gaze filled with warmth and approval.

“I knew you two had something going on.” Rossi remarked with a grin, his voice laced with affection.

You shared a laugh, the moment filled with happiness, the weight of the years you’d spent apart finally lifting. There was still healing to be done, and wounds to mend, but for now, the three of you were together. The future felt promising, and with Aaron and Noah by your side, you felt ready to face whatever lay ahead.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added): @looking1016 @pear-1206 @doe-eyed-diva @ssa-aaronhotchner @sweetpinkchampagne @totallyjovialblaze @pastelpinkflowerlife @donttrustlove @actualdeemon @jencole214 @fandomawesomeness @devilslittlehelper @mrs-ssa-hotch @gamingfeline @rousethemouse

[jlheon]

୨ৎ — first date (yjw)

pairing. class prez! yang jungwon x fem! reader synopsis. awkward first date w/ won genre. f2l fluff wc. 1733 notes. ft. minji & riki library.

"i don't know what to wear!" you told minji through your phone. twenty minutes left before jungwon would be there to pick you up and your once clean bedroom looked like the aftermath of a tornado.

last week jungwon confessed to you. well, riki accidentally confessed to you for him.

you had seen riki's messages to jungwon as you played a game on his phone during lunch. all the messages sent consisted of riki teasing him about his crush.

stomach dropping as you thought that your crush could be crushing on that wasn't you. you also felt bad for invading his privacy when you tried to turn the phone off. however, curiosity got the best of you, nearly throwing the phone across the room, until riki said your name.

a sense of relief hit you, letting out a breath you weren't even aware you were holding.

when jungwon returned to the classroom with some drinks from the vending machine you slowly gave his phone back. after he started frantically apologizing you reassured him that you shouldn't have kept reading the texts but glad you did since now you knew the feelings were reciprocated.

you were thankful that you and jungwon always ate alone in the student council room since he had all day access to it being class president. he was also glad that the confession happened privately.

jungwon asked you out on a date and now it was d-day.

unfortunately for you, he hadn't told you where you were going. not even a single hint. so there was no way to know what was appropriate to wear.

"he said comfortable! i'm sure shorts and a t-shirt will be fine!" minji advised, currently doing something on her computer, and barely paying attention to you.

"what if he means comfortable like watching a movie comfortable? what if i’m overdressed or even worse underdressed? what if i get cold-" you rambled, holding up different shirts in the mirror up to your front.

"how about you keep those shorts, the blue crewneck, and wear a cute tank top underneath in case you get hot." minji suggested, eating some chips.

"you're a genius!"

quickly grabbing the items she instructed you to get and throwing them on. afterwards, picking up the mountains of clothes on your floor, folding them, and shoving them back in your drawers.

by the time your room was cleared jungwon's contact appeared on your screen. ending the call with minji after she wished you good luck you rushed downstairs.

jungwon was already standing at your doorstep as you saw from the window. he rang the doorbell and you were quick to open it before your little sister could.

"hey ____," jungwon stood on the porch, coincidentally wearing a blue sweater in a similar shade to yours.

"hi!" your younger sister greeted him before you. "she opened the door before i could!" she whined, crossing her arms.

"i told you don't answer the door to strangers," you patted her head.

"why did you answer the door then? he's not a stranger if you-"

you smiled at jungwon, letting him into the house while ushering your sister to the other room.

"let me just tie my shoes-" you went to sit, reaching down to your feet. 

jungwon didn't say anything before kneeling in front of you and tying the laces of your sneakers up for you. you found yourself flustered, cheeks feeling warm from his gesture.

"oh thanks," you said once he stood back up, reaching a hand out to bring you up off the couch.

"let's go?" he asked, staring down at you.

"yeah," you replied shakily.

it was weird being nervous around jungwon, you had hung out with him alone plenty of times when you didn't know if he liked you back. nonetheless, you let him intertwine your hands and lead you to his car. he opened the passenger door for you, waiting for you to get in before shutting it and looping around to get into the driver's seat.

"so where are we going?" you asked, buckling your seatbelt.

"it's a surprise ____," he laughed, starting up the car and driving off.

the car ride was around fifteen minutes. you looked out the window listening to the music jungwon had been playing until you recognized where you were.

the beach.

"why did you let me wear sneakers?" you frowned, looking down at your shoes and thinking about getting sand in your shoes.

"i'm wearing sneakers too," jungwon started, turning into the parking lot. "i brought us slides don't worry."

jungwon parked the car close to where the stand started and exited the car. circling around the front to open your door for you. after helping you out he opened the back of his car to get the said slides and some sand toys.

while he was busy doing that you took off your shoes and left them on the floor of the passenger’s seat. jungwon dropped a pair of his slides that were slightly too big for you in front of you and then you both started walking through the sand.

you followed jungwon as he picked a spot for you guys to sit. he set down a towel big enough for the both of you and patted the spot next to him for you to sit.

"can we make a sand castle?"

"that's why i stole riki's sand toys," jungwon laughed, his dimple becoming more prominent. "don't tell him i told you these were his."

"i wouldn't!" you giggled, poking his dimple.

picking up the medium-sized bucket and shovel you remember that you needed wet sand.

jungwon was a step ahead of you already. he knew how much you hated the feeling of sand sticking to your feet after touching the water so he wordlessly picked up one of the other buckets and strides towards the shore.

"here," he set the water-filled bucket next to you. his sleeves were rolled up and his hands were dripping with ocean water, his veins showing.

you thanked him and got to work, mixing the water into the dry sand in front of you. then packing it into the castle-shaped mold as jungwon watched from beside you.

"you should make your own," you looked over to your date. "i doubt it will be better than mine though!"

"you're on!" jungwon nudged you with his shoulder and started working on his own.

by the time you had both finished you had added some seashells on top of yours while jungwon eventually gave up and started writing random things in the sand.

you excitedly showed him your final work and he swore he could kiss you right then and there.

jungwon snapped a couple of candid photos of you while you were caught up making your sand castle. saving them so he could change his wallpaper to you when he got home.

you asked him if he wanted to look for shells and he accepted.

"won look at this shell!" you held up a small shiny orange shell for him to see. "you can have it." you placed it in his hand.

he took the shell, sliding it into his pocket, then held your hand in his as you continued walking down the beach.

you continued to pick up shells and talk jungwon's ear off. he simply just let you drag him along and keep the shells you liked in his pocket for you.

eventually, you had enough of walking up and down the shore, probably picking up all the shells you stumbled upon you stopped walking, which made jungwon nearly bump into you.

"ew i don't want to go back in the sand," you whined, staring down at how your feet were drenched in the ocean water. the coolness of the water felt nice two minutes ago but now you had to make it back to the blanket feeling the texture of wet sand all over your feet.

"come here," jungwon instructed, removing his hands from his pockets.

"what?" confused, you turned around to face him.

then he suddenly picked you up and started running back to your spot.

"hey put me down!" you lightly hit his chest.

"we both know you would be complaining if you had to step in the sand with wet feet," jungwon set you down on the towel, picking up the toys from earlier and putting them all together before laying down next to you. a somewhat comfortable silence took over you both of you.

"hi," you said as you laid back facing him.

"hi," he stared back at you, his eyes still glued on the sky.

"why are we so awkward," you laughed, thinking about how today lacked all of the normal conversations you had before confessing to each other.

"i don't know about you but i'm nervous," jungwon confessed, turning over to face you.

"i'm only nervous because you've barely said a word to me this whole time," you sighed, staring up at him.

"you look pretty today."

"you're changing the subject-"

"that's why i'm nervous," jungwon rested a hand on yours, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. "we've been friends for so long, and now that we're on a date i'm blanking."

"let's just pretend this is a normal hangout," you suggested, returning to resting flat on your back.

"____, can i kiss you?"

"that's not what you would say at a regular hangout-" you felt your face warm up as you awkwardly scratched your neck.

"yeah because we're on a date," he sat up, waiting for you to mirror him, which you did. "i'm going to ask you again ____, can i kiss you?"

"um," you stared at him like a deer in headlights.

jungwon moved closer to cup one side of your face, noses brushing against each other. his minty breath hit your lips and filled your senses.

"so can i kiss you?" he asked one more time, barely above a whisper.

"yeah," you shakily replied, letting your eyes fall shut.

satisfied with your answer, he finally let his lips collide with yours. kissing you gently for a couple of seconds before pulling away to look at you. he let out a chuckle when your eyes were still tightly shut.

"you can open your eyes now," jungwon brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"i knew that!"

jungwon grinned and went back in for another kiss.

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter one

summary: leaving your old life behind, you move to copenhagen to follow your dream of opening a restaurant. almost a year after opening, luca's quest for inspiration brings him right to your doorstep.

warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 2500

a/n: remember when i said we'd get pastry chef luca fanfic whether we liked it or not? well, it seems i can't be normal about anything bc i have an outline of (potentially) 10 chapters right now based on this headcanon. while i try to keep reader characters pretty neutral so that you can picture yourself, i have this reader creating food from her own life experiences/cultures so do what you will with that. also, i tagged some peeps from my headcanon post, but please let me know if you'd like to be removed.

masterlist | part two

He’s in search of inspiration when he finds the restaurant – your restaurant. 

It’s an American stagiaire and a single conversation that makes him realize that he’s missing something – that he’s been in need of something fresh, a new perspective– setting him on his quest. 

The best things are inspired. 

Luca stares at a blank piece of paper for what feels like hours, writing a few things down, sketching up an idea, before viciously crossing them out, hopelessly stuck on new ideas for the new menu. After a few half-baked ideas that go nowhere, It occurs to him that he may be in need of a little inspiration himself. He can’t think of the last time he’s taken his own advice, mulling over the carefully-chosen words of wisdom imparted to Marcus a couple of weeks ago, and he’s determined to change that. 

A review in the paper, an old colleague’s recent trip there, and a glowing recommendation from a close friend are what bring him to the restaurant. 

He’s not sure what to expect – having forgone any interest in cuisine described with the words trendy or fusion a long time ago – but Luca reminds himself that it’s the writer’s word choice, not the chef’s, when writing the article. 

When Luca steps into the small home-turned-restaurant, he’s immediately inundated with a warmth, a homeyness, that takes him by surprise. From the open kitchen, to the golden lighting, it feels vastly different from the classic Danish-style, fine dining establishments that have swept the country. 

But Luca reminds himself that the announcement of noma’s 2024 closure, has shifted the conversation around dining culture in Denmark, and already, he can feel that this is the breath of fresh air that he’s been looking for. 

Luca’s seated quickly with care and hospitality by a highly-attentive host, which he only assumes is a symptom of the fact that he read somewhere that you’re an American. While Danish, the host is boisterous, as if he’s known Luca since childhood. Luca smiles politely in response, graciously thanking the man and his chocolate brown curls. 

The menu is small, indicating that each dish receives enough care to be excellent and he likes that, despite being described as trendy and fusion-focused, your menu is creative. It’s different. It’s inspired. 

He chooses the special of the day: the mapo tofu bolognese – a traditionally Italian concept done from an Asian perspective – and the suggested wine pairing.

It doesn’t take long for him to receive his glass of wine, or his food, and he’s pleasantly surprised by how efficient service seems. Stealing glances through the open kitchen, he watches as you and your sous lead dinner service with a kind of compassionate leadership and playfulness that warms him from the inside out. 

“We recommend mixing the whipped tofu into the dish for a creamier sauce. Skal,” his waitress greets, with a warm smile on her face as she sets down the bowl of noodles. 

“Cheers,” Luca replies, his eyes savoring every single detail of the dish. 

It’s somehow elevated, thoughtful, and elegant, yet comforting all at once. 

Luca picks up his fork, using it to collect a little bit of everything – a perfect noodle twirl with just enough sauce, and ground pork before running his fork the whipped topping – raising the fork to his lips for his first bite. 

As the flavors hit his tongue, he closes his eyes, and it’s as if time has stopped, just for a moment. 

The wheat noodles are perfectly al dente while the whipped tofu is almost ricotta-like, transforming into a silky smooth addition to the dish, cutting the tingle and heat of the Sichuan chili peppercorn-based sauce. 

The corners of his lips turn up as he takes a breath, opening his eyes as he savors the delicate layers of flavors. With a crooked smile on his face, he decides that he’ll most certainly be back next week. 

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

You make peace with the fact that tonight is one of those nights – a slow night – as you finish washing your hands. It being a slow night, you’d encouraged your staff to up the hospitality at the pre-shift meeting. Treating guests with the utmost personal touches in an effort to build genuine connections would be the focus of tonight’s slow service. In fact, you and Mathilde, your sous chef, had been running dishes out this evening – something you rarely had the luxury to do. 

“You should go say hello,” your sous encourages, nodding towards the dining room through the expansive window of the open kitchen. 

“Thought it was your turn,” you reply in a casual tone, paying no attention to who she’s referencing.

“No, I think you should take this one,” Mathilde nudges you, causing you to look up. You shoot her a funny look, your eyes flickering over the mischievous expression she has on her face, to where she’s gestured towards. 

“To-?” you begin to ask, before seeing exactly who she’s talking about.

“Ehm. Tall, blonde, and tatted!” she emphasizes in a whisper yell. 

You don’t really need the description as you glance over at the dining room, easily spotting the man seated at a two-seater near the front window.

“You’re right. He’s become a bit of a regular,” you agree with a curt nod that means all business, no pleasure, as you move a few things as you walk and talk around the kitchen, tidying up.

“That’s not what I meant,” she scoffs with a playful eye roll. 

“You know, Jesper thought he was Swedish because… look at him… but he’s apparently a Brit,” she gossips with you, her eyes stealing a glance his way. “We’re slow tonight. He’s here every week. Sure he’d appreciate a direct thank you from the chef!” 

“I-,” you hesitate, wondering why she’s so damn insistent on this. “... yeah, alright. I’ll go.”

“That’s my girl!” Mathilde cheers, in a sing-song voice, she hands you the beautifully plated bowl of pasta to take out to the dining room.

As you walk over towards his table, you make a note that it seems as if the mystery man has made this a bit of a routine. He shows every Saturday at exactly 7 pm, week after week, for the past month or so, as if it’s a standing date he has with himself. After his first visit, you half-expected him to bring a date when he returned, or bring a group of friends, or for something different to happen. 

But it hadn’t and you’ve watched him come in, week after week, with a different book each time. He always orders the special of the day and whatever suggested wine pairing Jesper’s recommended that week.

Most Saturday nights you're busy leading a kitchen or cooking on the line – having little to no time to fixate or wonder curiously over your weekly diner – but tonight’s pace affords you the luxury to spend more time at the front of house. Truthfully, you know it’s the thing that sets you apart. Sure, the hospitality here in Copenhagen is excellent, but you bring an American hospitality-style to this restaurant – and above and beyond mentality – that feels welcoming, personal, even, as if your restaurant itself is just an extension of your home. 

You’ve heard your staff – front of house and back of house – whispering about him, all seemingly enamored and enchanted by the charming Brit. All any of you knew about him was that his name was Luca and that he’s always more than kind to your front of house staff. 

He doesn’t say much when he comes in, you’ve noticed, but every Saturday at 7 pm, he’s pushing his way through the front door with punctuality and a gentle ease.

The whisperings from your staff had all revolved around who your mysterious regular must be: whether he was Danish or Swedish, that someone that good looking must already have a partner, that he doesn’t wear a ring. 

You hadn’t paid much attention to the gossip (or at least that’s what you’ve told yourself) more focused on running dinner service then trying to piece together the story of your handsome, mysterious regular. 

“Hello,” you greet him warmly. “I just wanted to come introduce myself and say thank you for becoming one of our regulars. Your support means a lot to all of us.”

“Hi, I’m Luca.”

You share your name with a smile as he shakes your hand. 

Luca turns his attention down to the bowl you’ve put in front of him, his eyes taking in the beautiful presentation hungrily. 

“Wow, this looks… incredible,” he marvels, returning his gaze back to you. 

“Thank you. I’m sure my front of house already walked you through this but if you’d like for me to-,” you begin. 

“Yes, that’d be great, thanks,” he interjects, a crooked smile on his face that makes your heart skip a beat. 

You have to pull your attention away from him, hoping he doesn’t notice that you’re quite possibly gawking at him. 

He’s kind, charming, and he’s easy on the eyes (easy on the eyes, really being an understatement here).

“Today’s special was inspired by a childhood favorite of mine,” you begin, walking him through each component of the dish. 

Crispy Rice. Caramelized marinated trumpet mushrooms and charred broccolini. Your mom’s sauce approached with classic French techniques, courtesy of your sous, Mathilde, a classically French-trained chef. 

It’s a marriage of your story. Of the people around you. It’s your heart and theirs, put into a dish. 

“You’re the chef?” he asks, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. 

“Yes,” you answer, trying your best to get a read on him. 

He balks, and you’re unsure of how you’re supposed to respond. Was he surprised that you’re a woman? That he’s been eating your food the whole time and expected a male chef? Before you can overthink it, Luca clarifies with:

“I’m sorry. It’s just-, I can't think of the last time I saw a head chef work front of house, let alone with this much care.” 

Oh. 

You let down your guard, wondering why you’d assumed the worst when the man’s been nothing but kind to you and your staff so far. 

"We're a little short staffed tonight. And I love getting to talk to diners… especially on nights like this,” you explain, trying your best to sound like you hadn’t just assumed that he was a sexist asshole. 

He shakes his head in disbelief, looking down at the picturesque bowl, then back to you.

Luca is impressed, and he has no intention of hiding it.

He picks up his wine glass by the stem, raising it to you.

"Cheers,” he says. “And thank you. This is a really beautiful dish.”

“Of course. Enjoy,” you reply, giving him a polite smile, before heading back into the kitchen. 

 -------------------------------

“Good service tonight, everybody!” Jesper, your front of house manager, announces while clapping a few times to signal to staff that it’s time for a post shift meeting. 

As you all gather in the pristine front of house space. Some of your cooks have taken their aprons off, others haven’t had a moment to unwind from the shift yet – business picking up in the last hour or so of service. 

Jesper goes through his nightly wrap-up notes, celebrating the wins of tonight, and making sure to celebrate how everyone rallied to pick up pace when business spiked. He’s gregarious, larger-than-life, the kind of person who can talk to anyone about anything, making him an excellent front of house manager, and even better sommelier. You really lucked out with the twins, you think to yourself – with Jesper and Mathilde – when they were more than eager to work with you on opening this restaurant. 

“Oh, and before we go, a client left a gift… table number four,” Jesper says, in reference to Luca’s table. He pulls a tan-colored pastry box from another table, setting it down on a table where everyone can take a look. 

“As a thank you. He requested for me to share. So have it and let’s make a note next time he’s in to really treat him like a VIP.”

One of your most-talented servers opens the box, eliciting a chorus of gasps, giggles, and excited whispers as soon as the assortment of croissants and pastries are revealed. 

You and Mathilde exchange a look as everyone else busy themselves with unpacking the pastry box. Mathilde raises an eyebrow and you’re not sure what to say. Witnessing your silent exchange, Jesper makes his way over to the both of you, before extending his arm to reveal the card he’s holding. 

“And this, my dear…” he begins, exchanging a look with his sister. “...is for you.”

“What do you-, just me?” you ask as you take it, hesitantly. 

“I think so, yeah,” he nods, confidently. 

To the Chef, the front of the card reads. 

“Jesper, let’s check out some of these pastries, yeah?” Mathilde suggests, not so subtly hinting towards her brother. 

He nods, giving you a little space so that you can read the card Luca’s left for you. 

As your staff divvy up the box of laminated pastries, sighing with joy as they taste the decadent, hand-crafted sweets, you take a few steps away to open the note. His handwriting is pristine – perfectly neat in every way, like he’s written over carefully measured invisible lines.

Chef,

Thank you for all of the great meals. I'd like to return the favor, that is, if you're open to it. 

Tomorrow. 5 pm. Dronningens Tværgade 2, 1302

While Luca’s gift has been more-than-generous, you find yourself overwhelmed by questions. Was he a chef too? And why had he not said anything? And what was this gesture all about anyways?

You read the card a few more times, turning the words over in your head as you try to make sense of it. 

Mathilde can see your overwhelm, your eyebrows knitted into one confused expression as she saunters back over to you.

“What does it say?” she asks, curiously. “A love confession perhaps?”

“Mathilde, you really have to stop reading all of those French romance novels!” you tease her. “It’s giving you too many ideas.”

“It’s the only way I keep up with my French!” she defends herself with a lackadaisical shrug, earning a laugh from you.

“Uh no… it’s actually a thank you card… only I think he… wants to feed me,” you share with her, holding the card out so that she can take a look. 

“He’s a chef too?” she asks, taking the card from your hands. 

“I think so, yeah,” you reply, letting out an exasperated laugh. 

“Oh shit!” Mathilde exclaims, as soon as she sees the address that Luca’s written down. 

“What?” you ask her, wondering if there’s something you missed. 

“The address… that’s AOC. I think he’s a chef at AOC, babe,” she gasps, shaking her head as she hands the card back to you, sending a ‘you lucky, bitch’ look your way.

Oh shit, is right.

[sxcret-garden]

Heeseung ღ Treat you right [M]

ღ Enhypen Heeseung x fem-bodied!reader ღ words: ~2k ღ genre: smut (marking, oral (reader receiving), unprotected sex, a bit of overstimulation) ღ warnings: cheating ღ prompts: “I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard.” + “I like being close to you. You’re warm.”

Desc.: Your friend Heeseung has always been the person you would run to when your shitty boyfriend upset you once again. Little do you know that the secret attraction you harbour for your friend is mutual, and once that fact becomes clear, it doesn’t take long for one thing to lead to the other…

You sigh, hoping that the bitter aftertaste of your last fight with your boyfriend would disappear with it, as if you could breathe out the feelings, and you snuggle up closer to Heeseung. Your friend, who had welcomed you at his doorstep and let you in without hesitation as soon as he saw the sorry state you were in, is now lying in bed with you, his arms wrapped securely around you.

"You deserve better." - You remember the first time he had told you this, back when you were only just starting to go out with your current boyfriend, and even months later that statement still rings true. In moments like these at least, you believe his words, but when your boyfriend comes crawling back to you, mumbling apologies to you in between the sweetest kisses he can muster, you always end up forgiving him.

"Wanna talk about it?" Heeseung's voice tears through the silence in the room and through your thoughts, even though he's speaking softly. You shake your head however, burying your face in his chest as you pull him closer in your embrace. A sense of safety washes over you, and you let go of the tension in your body as you breathe out. "Then what? Should we just stay like this? Or do you want me to distract you?" He grins as he speaks the last part, and you can only imagine what goes through his head as he does. Still you shake your head.

"Let's stay like this," you mumble, and when you lift your head to look at his face, you add, "I like being close to you. You're warm."

The expression in your friend's eyes changes, and you don't miss the way he gulps at your words and at the proximity of your face to his. His gaze drops to your lips, and though he's fighting hard to focus on any other spot on your face instead, it's useless.

And it's not like you don't feel it too. The attraction, the way you feel at home with him, the way you've repeatedly caught yourself fantasizing about what it would be like to turn your back on your boyfriend and to run away with Heeseung instead. You can't fight the pull towards him - not that you would want to - and then you kiss him, your lips touching for merely a second.

"We shouldn't." He's the one to whisper those words, but their meaning quickly gets lost as you press your lips against his mouth again.

"Whatever," you mutter into the kiss. "That asshole isn't here anyway." Anger now coursing through your veins, you kiss Heeseung with more fervour, and he lets you. Supporting you by your hips as you crawl on top of him, he sighs into the kiss, permitting you to part his lips with your tongue. Sharing open mouthed kisses, your hands find their way up into his hair, and as if you had found a weak spot of his, he breaks the kiss and moans your name when you tug at the short strands. Using the opening, you begin to trail kisses from the corner of his mouth down to his jaw, and when he leans his head back to give you proper access to his neck, you move on to that area. Teeth nipping at his skin, he lets you hear breathy moans, and the sound of his voice only causes you to become more eager.

“Y/N,” he calls out to you suddenly, and when you bring some distance between you to look at him, he cups your face with his hand. “Are you sure about this?”

“Stop asking useless questions,” you mumble, attaching your lips to his jaw again, but he gently pushes you away in order to make eye contact with you again. He sits up with you still on top of him, now taking your face into both his hands, thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

“I just don’t want you to regret it after,” he says calmly, while his gaze drops to your mouth. Biting his lower lip and releasing it slowly while he waits for an answer, you feel yourself driven by impatience most of all when you wrap your fingers around his wrists. Taking his hands away from your cheeks you lean in to kiss him again, placing his arms on your shoulders instead.

“I won’t,” you whisper, and when Heeseung pulls back after kissing you once more, the expression in his eyes has changed. Hands roaming your body and tugging at your clothes, he soon peels off your shirt and you shiver as you feel his warm fingertips against the skin on your back. 

“Then I’m not gonna hold back,” he mutters against your neck, burying his head there and scattering kisses all over while he pulls you as close as possible. Without thinking, you roll your hips against his as you make out, and soon enough you can feel his bulge growing underneath you. He’s the first one to break away, leaving your lips longing for more with every second you don’t feel him kissing you. Hastily taking off his shirt, he then flips your positions around, pinning you to the bed by your wrists and going right back to sharing hot kisses with you.

“Fuck this,” he mutters, rolling his hips against yours and putting more strength behind the movement than you had just a few seconds ago. Heat rushes to your core and you moan into his kiss as you realize he’s no longer holding back, and you feel an overwhelming need to feel him inside you already. 

“Hee,” you call out to him as you throw your arms around him, raking your fingers up into his hair. “Please,” you mutter a single word, and when he parts from you, you know that it won’t take more than that to make him understand what you want. His lips leaving sloppy kisses down your throat and the middle of your chest, he doesn’t waste any more time to help rid you of your remaining clothes before also stripping out of his. 

“Babe…” he mumbles as he presses his mouth against your collarbone, and you involuntarily chuckle for but a second.

“Since when do you call me that?” you ask, and you mewl as he reaches your stomach, sinking his teeth into your skin. You permit him to suck a mark onto the spot right above your hip bone, and when he comes back up and you see the dark expression in his eyes, you feel the air getting knocked out of your lungs. 

“I always call you that in my head when I think about us doing exactly this,” he admits, and a shiver runs down your spine. He quickly kisses a trail further down, until he’s reached the inside of your thigh, and hooking his arms under your legs, he sinks his teeth into the delicate flesh there.

“Fuck,” you mutter as you throw your head back, both at the sudden pain and the thought of him getting off to dirty thoughts about you. And it’s not like you’ve never done the same, so you let out a moan of appreciation while he kisses the spot where he had just nibbled on your skin better. 

“You okay?” he checks in with you, hands searching for yours and intertwining your fingers. He’s so close to your core that you can feel his breath right where you want him most, and you nod quickly.

“Just touch me already, please,” you urge him on, and he doesn’t hesitate. You bite down on your bottom lip, stifling the whine that escapes you when you feel him pressing his lips against your dripping pussy, and you throw your head back. Digging your nails into the backs of his hands, you can feel the vibrations of him chuckling, before he lets his tongue dart across your clit. Alternating between that and wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud to suck on it, he’s quick to make you feel like you’re about to go crazy, and so all you can do is throw your head back and give yourself up to his touches. 

“Fuck… don’t stop,” you mewl, knuckles turning white at this point, and him humming in response. “Please, don’t stop…!” You cry out when you feel him slipping his wet muscle inside you, and he moans at your taste.

“...taste so good,” he mutters after pulling out, and he goes right back to drawing shapes on your clit. Shaking with expectation, you let out another whine when he repeats the process, darting his tongue into your pussy and then dragging it back up to tease your clit. “I-I’m getting close…” you let him know, and that’s when he lifts his head, stopping his ministrations at once.

“Don’t cum yet, babe,” he mutters and he crawls up to kiss you. Tasting yourself on his tongue, you throw your arms around him and drag your nails down his back. “I’m gonna fuck you so good you forget all about that bastard.” His words still ringing in your ears as he parts from you, you feel him pushing into you the next second, and you let out a whine from the overwhelming bliss of being filled up so perfectly. He reaches behind himself to help you wrap your legs around his hips while he lets you adjust to his size, and when he grabs your wrists to pin them against the bed right beside your head, he mumbles,

“You ready?” You nod in desperation.

“Please fuck me.” Heeseung doesn’t hesitate upon hearing your plea, and when he starts snapping his hips into yours, you’re not the only one who moans from the pleasure and the relief. 

“Fuck… shit.” A string of curses falls from his lips, a drop of sweat running down his forehead, and with every time he pulls out and thrusts all the way back in, he hits that delicious spot deep inside you. You feel yourself losing control quickly, clenching your hands into fists and you can’t stop yourself from calling out his name over and over as you’re chasing your high.

“Don’t stop… Heeseung… I swear to god, don’t s-stop…!” Your high comes crashing down on you, shaking your whole body and he fucks you right through it, relishing in the desperate moans and whines you let out as your orgasm fades and the pleasure mixes with the overstimulation. And then he releases inside you with a grunt, and he comes to a halt, panting.

“Fuck…” he breathes out another curse as he rolls off you, lying down right next to you with your upper arms touching and you’re both catching your breaths. You say nothing for a long while, focused on the emotions still racing through your entire body. And then eventually, you move and you lie down on top of him, brushing some strands of hair out of his face and brushing your lips against his.

“Let’s go out,” you say, and your friend reacts with a gasp.

“The two of us?” he questions. And starting to grin, he adds, “Like… as a couple?”

“Yeah,” you answer. “We’ll be so much better together than me and that asshole.” You give him a smile that he returns, and then you kiss him again. “Yes or no?” Heeseung sits up with you on top of him, hands cupping your face, and there’s a kind of joy behind his gaze that you don’t see too often. With half-lidded eyes and a smug smirk sitting on his lips, he gives you a lingering kiss, and then he says,

“I’ll treat you right. Just trust me.”

[unpredictable-probabilities]

What Lies Beyond Fear

Summary:

Dream decides to visit Hob a day earlier than their agreed appointment.

He learns about modern-day Halloween traditions, and what it means to have nothing to fear.

Word Count: 4,635

Notes (more at the end):

For All Hallows Sadman 2024 hosted by @mr-sadman 🎃

Prompt: Trick or Treat

[Read on AO3]

---

Dream ducks under fake cobwebs hanging on trees and sidesteps around a candy stall as he makes his way to The New Inn. He could, of course, have just appeared on its doorstep, but he finds that he likes the walk, as it reminds him of the first time he took the path. The first time he had seen Hob again after more than a century.

The late afternoon sun casts a warm glow on the pub as Dream draws closer, and he sees a poster on its wall advertising an upcoming Halloween party tomorrow. Drinks would be at a discounted price if one were to attend in costume.

“My friend!”

Dream turns his gaze away from the poster to look at Hob, already approaching him from the other side of the open doorway.

“You're here early,” Hob smiles when he reaches him. “I'm not complaining, though.”

Dream finds that it is easy to return the smile. It always is now. With Hob.

“I simply took your advice and accepted more help with my work from Lucienne and Matthew. They all but pushed me out of my own castle when I said I wanted to visit you a day earlier than what we agreed on.”

Hob beams at him, and it makes something warm bloom in Dream’s chest. “Well, I should remember to thank them later. Wanna come inside, then?” he nods to the interior of the pub.

Dream nods, and Hob leads the way inside to their usual table, talking about how the Halloween party was a spontaneous idea that only came about less than a week ago.

Dream keeps his eyes on Hob the entire time, not wanting to miss a moment of it. His feet have memorised the way to their table, and so he is free to give his full attention to his friend.

He has grown rather fond of Hob's face this century; the way his eyes light up when telling a story, how he gestures with his hands more as his excitement grows, as if his body couldn't possibly contain all the happiness he is feeling, the way his eyebrows lift and his lips quirk up in a smile when Dream says something he finds surprising. That was what he endeavoured to see today, why he surprised Hob with his unannounced visit. Needless to say, the reality of it is even better than his expectations.

“Is Halloween also celebrated as a romantic event nowadays?” Dream asks curiously as they sit across from each other.

“What? No, why?” Hob furrows his eyebrows.

“I see the daydreams of your patrons. A handful of them are hoping to ask someone as their date to your gathering tomorrow. They have romantic intentions.”

“Oh!” Hob chuckles. “No, humans just do that. Ask someone to be their date to parties as an excuse to spend time together.”

Dream tilts his head a fraction to the side. “I am not certain I understand the need for such an excuse. Would it not be simpler to ask to spend time together regardless of gatherings?”

“Well, you know,” Hob looks down and picks up the round cardboard coaster, tapping the side idly on the table. “Sometimes it's scary to ask that, especially if you don't know what the other person likes to do. It's easier to invite them to a party, where there's already something to do.”

“Ooh Professor G! I didn’t know you’d bring a date!” a young lady wearing a witch’s cape and hat playfully says.

Hob chuckles good-naturedly. “Ah no, this is Dream. My—”

“Date. Yes. I am Hob’s date this evening.” Dream smiles at Hob.

Dream blinks himself out of Hob’s daydream. He always makes an effort to respect the privacy of his friend’s thoughts, but that particular one was so sharp and sudden that it caught him off-guard.

Curious. Hob daydreams of people mistaking him as his date. And him confirming it with a smile. That does not make sense. It would imply that Hob has romantic feelings for him. And why would he, when he has lived among humans for nearly seven centuries and experienced all their warmth and joviality?

Before this century they had only had six meetings, none of which had lasted a full day. Surely Hob would not prefer the cold aloofness of him compared to all the interesting humans within his reach in his daily life.

“Dream? Are you alright?” Hob’s eyebrows knit together in concern.

Dream focuses on his friend once more. “Yes. I was merely… pondering.”

“A penny for your thoughts, then?” Hob’s expression is open, encouraging. As he has always been after Dream told him the reason behind his absence in 1989.

Dream could ask. About Hob’s daydream. It is normal for friends to ask questions.

“I hope my sudden appearance has not intruded on any prior plans.”

Hob raises an eyebrow. “That’s what you were thinking about?”

Dream glances down. It is also normal for friends to be considerate of another’s time. And much more acceptable than inquiring upon one’s private thoughts.

“Don’t worry about that, mate, I’m always glad to see you. I have to chaperone a friend’s kids later tonight for trick-or-treat, but until then we can just be here. Unless you wanna chaperone with me.”

Dream looks at Hob again, trying to discern if he correctly interpreted the hopefulness in that last remark.

“You don’t have to, of course,” Hob says hurriedly. He clears his throat. “The kids’ parents are my colleagues, and they have to attend a seminar tonight so they asked if I could chaperone their kids since they live nearby.” He looks at his watch. “That’s in a little over two hours from now, though. We have plenty of time.”

Dream wants to point out that that is not nearly enough time. That they spend several hours together in their weekly meetings, sometimes until late into the night when Dream remembers that immortal though he is, Hob’s body still needs sleep. At which point they would continue their conversations in the Dreaming, lounging in the couches in the library or under the shades of trees in Fiddler’s Green.

Therefore, no. Two hours is not plenty of time.

“Dream? Is it really bothering you?” The concern has returned in Hob’s eyes.

“I am merely puzzled by these new human traditions. In times past, when this festival had varying names, it was often associated with bonfires and commemoration of the dead. Plastic spiders and masked children asking for sweets are all quite new to me.”

“Ah, yeah, it was a bit surreal to me at first too,” Hob reminisces. “But it’s nice to see an old solemn festival evolve into something that makes people more cheerful, you know? There’s something beautiful in seeing happiness around you.”

Dream keeps his gaze on Hob, on the curve of his lips and the crinkle in the corners of his eyes when he smiles. The same man who had sat across from him talking about chimneys and playing cards and handkerchiefs with raw wonder in his voice.

Dream returns the smile. “Indeed. Perhaps I can learn more about Halloween in this century. If your offer to chaperone with you still stands.”

“Of course,” Hob says immediately, his face brightening in a way that further convinces Dream he made the right choice by proposing to extend their meeting past two meager hours. “Oh I forgot to get us food, sorry. Give me a moment.” He turns and calls the attention of one of his staff.

“You are aware that I do not need food.”

“Yeah, but you enjoy it,” Hob winks at him before turning to the waiter. “I’d like a strawberry scone and my usual coffee, and a blueberry muffin and hot chocolate for my friend.” He turns to Dream for confirmation.

“It appears you know me well,” Dream concedes.

Hob grins at him and thanks the waiter who promptly passes their order on to the kitchen.

They talk, as they always do in their meetings. Hob listens with rapt attention while Dream tells him of his work in his realm, and Dream wonders if Hob is aware that his own stories of how his week had gone captivate Dream in much the same way.  

Dream thinks it is because he is the Prince of Stories that Hob’s tales have such an effect on him, no matter how mundane they may seem. It is not until Hob asks if he wants to have another cup of hot chocolate that Dream realises it is quite the opposite; Hob sees him beyond his function, and wishes to spend time with him simply because they are friends. It is not something that he is overly familiar with. Spending time with a friend. He has far more experience being the Lord of Dreams. Although it appears that he finds more pleasure in being a friend. With Hob.

Two hours fly by quickly—as Dream had known they would—and Hob says that he should get dressed before picking up the kids at their house.

“Is there a dress code for Halloween?” Dream furrows his eyebrows.

“Of course. Costumes.” Hob grins. “Even the chaperones get dressed up here every year. Wanna come upstairs? You can read in the living room while I change.”

They vacate their table and go upstairs to Hob’s flat as they had done many times before. The motions are so familiar that the situation almost feels domestic. And Dream wonders if Hob feels it, too.

“Right then, make yourself at home,” Hob says easily when they reach his living room.

“Do you say this to all your friends? Offer your home as theirs?” Dream trails his fingers along the books on Hob’s coffee table. The stack is higher now than when he first came here. He sits down on the couch to peruse the titles along the spines, and finds that the books are those he had expressed a preference to in their previous meetings.

Hob falters in his step and stops walking. “Oh, um, I haven’t really invited anyone else over since I moved here. I’ve got all these things from my past lying around, like that vase from the 1800s, and that music box from 1902. And other things that would be more difficult to pass off as part of an art collection. It’s just easier if I don’t need to worry about explaining them.”

Dream glances around, realising what Hob means. He has decorated his home to have pieces of the different lives he had lived, has chosen to keep things from his past that he holds close to his heart and doesn’t want to forget.

And Dream is sitting among them.

Dream should say something. Friends express appreciation to each other, he recently learned. He should tell Hob how honoured he feels to be allowed to see all this, to share the same space as Hob’s most cherished memories. Hob should know about the blooming warmth in Dream’s chest, about how perhaps this place is beginning to feel like home to him as well.

“You should get changed.”

Hob blinks. “Ah, right. Won’t be long. There’s some food in the fridge if you want any.” He disappears into his bedroom.

Dream sighs. It seems that he is far more articulate as the Prince of Stories than he is as a friend.

He picks up a book from the top of the stack—a fantasy novel he had begun to read at a previous visit—and continues to read where he had left off, idly wondering how humans learned to express themselves through words.

Several minutes pass before he hears Hob’s voice again.

“That’s everything, I think. I considered an eye patch but I don't wanna be walking around at night with just one eye, especially since I'm chaperoning.”

Dream glances up from his book and sees Hob wearing black leather boots that nearly come up to his knees, brown trousers, a loose white v-neck shirt tucked in, and a long black coat with gold accents at the collar and cuffs. Around his waist is a wide brown leather belt affixed with a scabbard and a gun holster, holding a cutlass and a pistol, respectively. Both of which are evidently made of plastic.

Preoccupied as he had been with his sentiments about Hob and his home, Dream had not stopped to wonder what Hob’s costume might be. He wears it well. His padded thighs and broad shoulders carry the clothes splendidly, and there is a glimpse of chest hair from beneath the low neckline.

“Don't laugh at me,” Hob warns playfully.

Dream blinks and lifts his gaze to his friend's eyes.

“I've got a fake sword and I'm not afraid to use it.”

“You are a pirate.” The past several minutes have not returned eloquence to Dream.

“Yep. That pirate show’s still stuck in my head.”

“That does not look like the ensemble of Edward Teach.”

“Because I'm not wearing that much leather,” Hob says pointedly. “Otherwise I'll be sweating in half an hour.”

Dream huffs out a chuckle. “Am I correct to assume that friends wear matching costumes on Halloween?”

“Sometimes, yeah. Why?”

Dream closes his eyes and conjures the image in his mind. The black leather boots, the black shirt tucked loosely in black trousers, the low neckline mostly covered by the black scarf tied neatly around his neck. The ring on his left index and little fingers, inlaid with rubies. The rapier hanging by the black belt around his hips.

He opens his eyes and stands up, neatly returning the book to the coffee table.

Hob is staring at him with his mouth open, his eyes running over every detail of Dream's clothing as if intending to imprint them in his memory.

Dream smiles in satisfaction at Hob's reaction. “I do like the Gentleman Pirate’s attire but I have a preference for black. I do not think he would mind the colour change.”

Hob blinks and meets his gaze. “You… Is that a real sword?”

Dream glances down at it and waves his hand to change it into plastic. “Not anymore.”

Hob chuckles, seeming to shake himself out of a trance. “Why a pirate, too?”

“I want everyone to know we are together.”

The smile melts off Hob’s face and he swallows, eyes flicking down to Dream’s mouth.

Hob surges forward to press their lips together, his hands cupping Dream's face—

Dream nearly gasps as he closes the walls around Hob's daydream. It is even more vivid than the last.

It is rare for him to manifest a heart in his human form. He finds no point to it, and oftentimes it simply slips his mind to form one.

Yet now it thuds inside his ribcage, every beat echoing in his ears like a measure of a song saying Yes, I want that. Now.

Dream swallows and puts his hands behind his back, gripping his wrist in order to prevent himself from grabbing at Hob and pushing him against his shelf of memorabilia, imprinting another memory into his mind and body that he shan't soon forget.

Dream looks at the door and takes a steadying breath. “Shall we go, then? I do not wish to make you late for the children.” And they will be quite late indeed if Dream were to fulfill their daydreams now.

“Oh, right, yeah. Let's go.”

The air outside is refreshing, calming Dream’s heart into a more even rhythm and clearing his mind.

They pass by other children and adults wearing costumes, some carrying plastic jack-o'-lanterns with candy inside.

Dream listens to Hob talk about more of the city's Halloween traditions, wondering why he had not noticed Hob’s feelings for him before. Why he had not noticed his own.

Hob puts a protective arm out in front of Dream when a motorcycle speeds past, as if Dream could be harmed by such things. They continue on walking, with Hob talking about the unfortunate lack of sidewalks before moving on to more positive things like the free candy tonight at The New Inn for trick-or-treaters and regular customers alike.

Dream watches the light of the setting sun reflect in Hob’s eyes, remembering the first instance of Hob protecting him, all those centuries ago. He had not seen Hob's daydreams then, but he felt them at the corner of his mind. And before he could be tempted to confirm if they wanted the same thing at that moment, he cut their meeting short. He did not wish to risk Hob’s life—immortal he may be—just for the sake of his own fleeting urges.

Now there is no risk of hurt or capture for either of them. Perhaps, instead of wondering why he did not notice such feelings after his return many months ago, it is more important to wonder what he will do next. Now that he knows.

They reach the house of Hob’s friends, and pleasantries are exchanged with introductions. The kids, Noah and Oliver, know Hob as their parents’ friend from the times that they all went to The New Inn. The boys dressed as their favourite superheroes—Batman and Superman, as Hob helpfully whispers to him—and they immediately adore the pirate costumes that Hob and Dream are wearing.

After their parents remind them to get along with other kids and listen to their chaperones, the boys excitedly run ahead to wait for them on the street, bouncing on their heels as they wait for the grown-ups to finish their conversations.

Hob's friends mention an upcoming holiday trip, and Dream is struck by the realisation that the spouses look at each other in much the same way that Hob looks at him.

He tenses and waits for fear to set in. He has had lovers in the past, and their relationships ended in ruin. He will not—must not—allow the same thing to happen between him and Hob.

Dream is so lost in his thoughts that he barely registers when the farewells happen and they join the kids.

They walk down the streets and Noah teases his younger brother about being scared of the older kids’ costumes of ghosts and ghouls.

“I'm not scared!” Oliver says indignantly in his high voice.

Dream feels a small hand grasp his. He looks down and sees the boy’s green eyes looking at him in concern.

“You're quiet, Mister Dream. Are you scared?” Oliver is still holding his hand reassuringly.

Dream glances at Hob and sees that his friend is smiling fondly at him. Those warm brown eyes that welcomed him without question even after he had stormed out of their meeting and was absent in the next. The gaze that belongs to the man who never doubted that he would return and built a new place for him to return to.

“No,” Dream answers Oliver without looking away from Hob. “I am not scared.”

“Hurry, Oli!” Noah calls out from a few paces ahead. “Mum says we're not allowed to separate!”

Oliver lets go of Dream’s hand and runs to his brother.

“Oi!” Hob calls after him. “Your mum also said not to separate from us!”

The boys give no indication that they heard Hob, and instead approach the nearest house to ring the doorbell.

Hob chuckles and shakes his head as he turns to Dream. “You're really okay with doing this?”

“I am. These children tonight have loud daydreams of their favourite sweets and eating them while in their costumes. It is good to see them fulfill that happiness. I had… forgotten. How much every little daydream matters.” Dream looks around at the little superheroes and princesses and fairies walking around the street, and he feels himself smile.

When he turns back to his friend, Hob is watching him with a smile of his own.

“It's good to see you happy,” Hob says with such sincere softness that makes something like yearning twinge in Dream’s chest.

“Mister Hob! Mister Dream! Let's go!” Oliver is holding his brother's hand and is excitedly waving for them to continue walking.

They meet some of Hob's neighbours along the way and get compliments on their costumes, and Hob invites them to tomorrow’s Halloween party at The New Inn.

Plastic pumpkin baskets get filled, and eventually Noah and Oliver grow tired of walking and sit on a bench to peruse their hoard.

Hob goes to buy refreshments at a food stall nearby while Dream stays to guard the kids, standing a few steps away from the bench and looking around with interest at the jack-o'-lanterns that have now been lit all over the park.

“That's a lot of candy you got.” An unfamiliar kid’s voice catches Dream’s attention.

He turns to see that three teenage boys have approached Noah and Oliver, wearing shiny robot costumes that look particularly expensive.

“Yeah…” Oliver says timidly and protectively hugs his pumpkin basket close to his chest.

“Now, that's not nice,” says the tallest kid. “Didn't your mum teach you to share?” He reaches for Oliver's basket—

Noah stands up and squares his shoulders, looking up at the older kids. “Didn't your mums teach you not to steal?”

The tall kid sneers and steps forward, and in that moment Dream bends the shadows and appears directly behind the bench, facing them.

“The night is still young, children. And reward is only sweet when it is earned,” Dream says evenly, his eyes black pools with bright stars in the center.

The older kids stare at him in horror and stumble all over themselves in their haste to run away.

“They left,” Oliver says in awe, watching the kids turn and disappear around a corner.

“It must have been your brother's bravery that daunted them.” Dream blinks and his eyes are once more blue.

“Daunted…” Noah furrows his eyebrows in thought and turns to Dream. “That means scared, right?”

“Indeed,” Dream smiles. “It appears you are smart as well. You make for an excellent Batman.”

Noah beams. Then he gets a chocolate bar from the depths of his basket. “For you, Mister Dream!”

Dream looks down in surprise at the offering in the child’s open palm. “But you worked for it. It is yours.”

“Our mum did teach us how to share,” Noah grins. “With friends.” He holds his palm higher.

Dream is rendered speechless. He does not need air but for a few moments he feels short of breath. Then he smiles and takes the chocolate bar. “Thank you, Noah.”

Hob arrives carrying big cups of fruit shakes in a paper bag. “Everyone alright?” He begins to distribute the cups.

“Yes!” Oliver exclaims, showing his full basket. “Let’s get back home and share these with mum and dad!”

The fruit drinks seem to have replenished the children's energy, and they jog and bounce along the sidewalk on the way back to their house.

Their parents have returned and have already prepared dinner for them. Oliver regales them with the tale of how his brother defended them from bullies, and as a reward they are allowed to have some of their candy before dinner.

Farewells are exchanged, and Hob and Dream make their way back to The New Inn.

“I saw what you did, you know,” Hob says as they leisurely walk under the light of streetlamps. “I can't believe you scared those kids like that,” he chuckles.

“Hm?” Dream hums with feigned innocence. “Noah did not want to give them treats. So I gave them a trick instead. Is that not how this holiday works?”

Hob laughs, a bright sound that makes Dream continually grateful for this night. “Not exactly, no.”

“Then I suppose I should stay longer so that I might learn more.”

“Well, you know I'll never complain about that. We can stay at the pub or in my flat, wherever you like. Could make us some dinner too, if you want.”

“I was thinking about a longer duration than that.”

“We’ll go to the Dreaming afterwards? Yeah, of course.”

Dream stops walking and Hob follows suit, looking at him questioningly.

“Hob Gadling. Will you do me the honour of being my date to The New Inn’s Halloween party?”

Hob’s lips part and a tinge of scarlet colours his cheeks.

Dream smiles. “You arranged for the party to happen tomorrow, on the day you were expecting me to visit. Am I wrong to assume you wanted me there?”

“No,” Hob says quickly. “I did want you there. I do. It's just… Date? How'd you mean…?”

“I mean,” Dream takes a step forward, making the blush on Hob's face even more prominent. “That I have romantic intentions and wish to be the priority of your attentions tomorrow. If you would be amenable.”

“What— Yes!” Hob laughs again, relief and delight evident in his voice. “How… How long have you… felt that way?” His gaze is vulnerable, hopeful.

“I confess I do not know,” Dream glances down for a moment. “But I know how I feel now. And if you feel the same…” He takes another step forward and transports them both back to Hob’s flat. “I have some plans in mind.”

Hob gasps in surprise at the sudden teleportation and stumbles backwards into his shelf of memorabilia, rattling some of the objects.

A smile curves Dream's lips, a coil of hunger beginning to awaken within him.

“What… Plans?” Hob blinks, pupils dilating at what he saw in Dream's expression.

Dream reaches up and slowly undoes his scarf. Hob’s gaze drops to his neck and follows every movement of his fingers.

Dream tosses the scarf to the floor, revealing the low neckline of his shirt showing much of his pale chest and collarbones.

“God almighty,” Hob breathes, and his tongue runs across his bottom lip.

Hob's daydreams wash over Dream, loud and colourful and vivid that Dream feels nearly intoxicated with them.

Dream takes a breath and steps forward, placing one hand on the shelf beside Hob’s head to steady himself. His friend's eyes widen as Dream leans in close enough that their noses are almost touching.

“I can taste your daydreams, Hob,” Dream's voice almost wavers, his restraint hanging by the barest threads of his willpower. “I should like to taste the reality of them.”

Hob swallows, and a trembling exhale escapes him. He opens his mouth as if to say something, then thinks better of it and simply cups Dream's face in his hands and presses their lips together.

Hob's lips are impossibly soft, and his calloused hands a comforting warmth around Dream as one slides down the back of his neck to pull him closer.

Dream places his hands on Hob’s waist and licks at the seam of his mouth, eliciting a moan as Hob's tongue eagerly meets his. He deftly unbuckles Hob’s belt, dropping it to the ground along with the plastic weapons in its holsters.

Hob fumbles around Dream’s belt with trembling fingers, tossing it to the ground as well and kicking it out of the way as they stumble across the corridor to his bedroom, Hob’s coat falling off his shoulders in their journey.

“Please tell me this isn't a trick,” Hob pants against his lips as he opens the bedroom door and they pour through the doorway.

“Not at all,” Dream feels himself to be equally breathless and a fond playful smile curves his lips. “I should like to have you as a treat. If you will have me.”

Hob captures Dream's mouth again in response, dragging him over to the bed as he blindly pushes the door close.

Down at the busy pub, customers enjoy the free candy and new Halloween decorations, as well as the songs playing from the jukebox that drown out any sound that might be coming from the owner’s flat above.

---

Notes:

The whole idea of Dream thinking about his feelings for Hob while they're walking around outside is inspired by this fic written by @beatnikfreakiswriting <3 I had read it shortly before starting to write this fic. It's a lovely and adorable read!

----

(All Hallows Sadman 2024 Masterpost)

(Masterlist)

[grandisknight]

ykw seeing the stuff about zayne and his parents reminds me of how when they were younger, zayne would come over to grandma’s to have dinner with caleb and mc before… so guess what

headcanon time ₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎

a scenario where young fem!mc, young!caleb, and young!zayne end up spending the weekend together under particular cirumstances

(semi)tags: mostly fluff, a pinch of angst if you squint, light-hearted, she/her pronouns for mc, takes place when they’re kids, not beta read bc it’s just a lil drabble

standing at the doorsteps of a familiar residence, zayne was quieter than usual, gaze downcast in harmony because once again his parents have to go overseas—it’s another case of them needing doctors in their speciality so of course they answered the call, though it would be for a couple of days…

normally zayne wouldn’t mind too much, is used to his parents traveling the world for their work but this time it’s closer to his birthday, and for once he was hoping they could sit down together to have presents and whatnot

but he understands all the same, his parents promise they’ll have a weekend of fun once they come back so it’ll be alright, they’ll make sure to call him on the day of (also have prepared his gift in advance for him, though he’ll find that out later)

so they decide leave him in grandma’s care for the duration they’re gone, it’s in the neighborhood and grandma josephine is basically second family at this point

zayne’s parents give josephine a knowing look of apology once more when the elderly woman greets them at the steps, but she only waves them off and welcomes zayne in with open and warm arms as usual (they know he’ll be in good hands through and through)

zayne’s parents send him off with one last hug and kiss, a slightly ruffle to his hair before they had to catch their flight and zayne just quietly waved at them as josephine leads him inside

“come now, i’m making dinner so the food won’t be ready for a bit; leave your bags at the stairs, we can bring it to your room later,” josephine would gently tell him, patting his shoulder before heading back to the kitchen to continue her meal prep

zayne nods, heads towards the bottom of the staircase where he hears two voices from a distance, muffled at first before it draws closer

“you cheated!” a girl would pout, a tinge of hurt in her voice

“no waay pipsqueak, it’s not my fault i had the better cards” and the boy, closer to zayne’s age, would snicker

finally, mc and caleb come into view from the top of the stairs, both which are excited to see their friend has a paid visit (they only found out today, having eavesdropped on josephine’s phone call)

“zayne! you’re really here?!” mc bouncing down the stairs, almost tumbling from excitement and caleb carefully walking behind, making sure she doesn’t fall

“mhm,” zayne would confirm calmly, watching the two stop just a step before him

“i heard from gran your parents are goin’ away for a bit,” caleb points out, revealing he knew more than what mc had heard and her brows raise in ‘ooh!’ realization

zayne’s hands around his bag tighten at the mention, after all he’s still a young boy and a bit emotional so naturally being reminded of the circumstances makes him a bit sad

“yeah. so i’ll be here for a while.” zayne does his best to be nonchalant, but mc noticed all the same

mc, tilting her head and reaching out to press the cheek that seemed to be sulking, “don’t worry, we’re here for you! i’ll teach you how to play these new cards gran got me”

“should he really be learning from someone who lost twice in a row?” caleb would snicker, earning an elbow to the side and a frowning mc

“what matters is that we’ll have fun together,” mc ignores the taunt entirely, reaches out her hand to zayne in earnest “and that’ll start now, c’mon!”

caleb would take zayne’s bag then, tossing it over his shoulder and offering him a grin, “yeah, let’s go, see if we’ll have a new reigning champ to add to pipsqueak’s losing streak”

“ugh, caleb!” mc would yell after the boy who had already began ascending the steps once more, and when they see zayne stood there, frozen in slight disbelief, she would tug his hand forward and firmly clasp it with hers

“lets go, birthday boy, i’ll go easy on you, it’ll be my present to you,” mc would say, gently tugging zayne along

to which, zayne hadn’t noticed how warm his hand felt until then, and the smile on his face that slowly began to unfurl as he nodded, led by mc and into a night of playing games and banter until the kids were called for dinner by josephine

[g0thic-ghost]

Slashers! With a S/O who adores Cats.

AN: Hello! Im back, as you can see. But anyways, we all know that I took a break from Tumblr for a while so I want to greet everyone with a fluff writing! So, please enjoy. Characters being ‘used’: Bubba Sawyer, Billy Lenz.

Warning ⚠️ : Not proof read.

REQUESTS : OPEN.

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba had grown to know that you adored cats. Mostly from how you would always get as excited as ever if you saw a cat wondering out in between the two sheds. Or, out in the old water hole drinking from it.. And he found it amusing. Never to judge you from your sudden outbursts of, “Oh my god! Look, Bubba look! .. a cat!” Whilst you pointed out from the window.

Sometimes, he would join in your watchings. Chiseling his butcher knife onto the wooden table and sitting next to you, watching as the little gray cat walks through the dirt and hops through the dead trees.

..Soon enough, Bubba sees that the little gray cats keeps coming more often or stopping by the front door. So he begins to leave out some leftover meat for it, just so he could rush to you. Squealing for you to step out and see the little surprise on the doorstep (how adorable).

Maybe, a few days later the cat gets warmed up to the both of you. Curling up to your hand when you touch its face, licking at the pads of your fingers or even gliding its tail against your wrist. Which just makes you absolutely melt.. “Aghh!— It touched me! It let me pet it, yess”.

Bubba, absolutely adores this little love of cats of yours. And he runs along with it, as he loves to see you smile continuously.

Billy Lenz

Billy never really catched onto your love for cats, as it was confusing to him in a way. “Why.. Why does piggy like cats, more than me?!” was one thing he would always repeat to you. But you would soon explain that you didn’t like or love them more than him, just that you found them cute. (which lead to MORE questions).

Sometimes, he would watch you from afar as you ran your hands through the fur of the chubby white cat that belonged to one of the workers. And would squint at the sight, judging you.

A little while after, he catches himself peeking at the pudgy cat as it walks up the stairs, down the stairs or hopping down from the rails. Meaning, he’s denying the fact he also somewhat finds it cute. To the point he wants to have a feel at it.

One day, as you’re sneaking into the attic. He claws at your arms and pulls you in, begging for you to bring it to the attic and that he wants to pet it .. “Give it! Billy wants to touch it too!”. You had gotten to his soft-spot.

[witch-oftheflowers]

How the boys react to altars?

(Ximena x Simon.{COD} Morgana x Marc y Altars.{Moon Knight} Enjoy this multi fandom chapter I wanted to see how this went!)

Simon x Ximena Riley:

The crisp air hit Simons face as he returned home. Seeing his little house covered in yellow and orange flowers

Marigolds

His brown eyes looking to the driveway. Loose petals leading to the doorstep. A tradition he has grown used to around this last week of October.

His wife coming from a small town in Mexico. Still celebrating day of the dead. Seeing it the first time was confusing. He got used to it as the years have came.

He grabbed his bag, and a few bouquets of flowers he got on the way home. Holding the large bag in his arm as he walked inside.

Seeing garlands of flowers coating their living room. Hallways to the bedrooms the same.

But the living and kitchen-

He smiled a bit. Locking the door behind him as he took his boots off. Setting his bag down.

Looking around as the house was empty. But the pathway of flowers lead outside to the garden.

He set the flowers down. Remembering to tell his wife when he finds her.

The house had candles around. Not yet lit.

Bread was on plates. Multiple meals cooked, many he likes or haven't tried yet. His eyes landed on the photos.

His eyes shaking for a second as there was many of his own on there. His whole family

Besides his sperm donor. Thank god-

"You're back early."

His head turned to met her. His eyes soften as he smiled to her. Ximena was in a simple white dress. Her flat ballade sandals on. She had twin braids down to her knees.

A kinder smile to her lips as she grabbed a tray. Setting the food on it.

"I was hoping to have this done. Surprise you even. Kiddos are outside setting up and having fun. Luna's with them too." She was softly speaking. Grabbing some of the pictures.

Even the one of her father that passed recently.

Her eyes stilled as she set it on the tray. A small tear slipped as her smile softly faded.

Simon walked over as he gave her head a gentle kiss. Pulling her in by the side

" 'M home. That's all that matters luv. And what surprise?" He asked her as he peer down at her.

"I was adding your family for this years altar."

His eyes met hers. Seeing the kindness she had for him. He never took her up on the offer. Scared if he'll disrespect his family. Or if waking them from their deserved rest was selfish for a few nights

He learned a bit of the holiday with his wife. And her loving family. He felt at ease as she wanted to do this small act for people she met a few times. Because she understood how much they meant to him

" Such a lovely idea my luv. Need any help?"

"Can you bring out the candles? I'm almost done."

He nods his head as he grabbed he ones from the kitchen she had set.

Walking out after her. Seeing their garden to life even as the sun was setting.

The stringed lights flickered on. Lanterns set in the pond, the garden had fireflies floating around. The many plants they had for fall flourishing in the still warm night.

Anna was playing with the twins keeping the toddlers distracted.

Johnny was helping his mum. Setting the photos on as they chatted a bit.

Simon smiled as he walked behind hearing his wife chatter on as she taught her kids about the tradition

"Once a year our ancestors visit us. For a few nights they come and enjoy the company. They're our family, so we cook food for them they loved while alive. We put their favorite things like bread or trinkets, or anything really"

She spoke on and on as they finished the most. Taking the candles from her husband as she set one each with a photo.

Most of them filled with her family. Aunts he met a few times. To her godparents, to her tia's and tios. Even her grandparents.

On the top of the tiered alter, her father sat. And then his mother. Underneath was his brother and his family. And her brother with his daughter.

A few years dripped, her hand shook as she finished lighting the last ones.

Stepping back she stood there admiring the table theys set.

Johnny grabbed his mum's hand. As she softly cried at the sight.

Simon came besides her as he squeezed her shoulders. Giving her a kiss on the head as he smiled.

"They would love this... Thank you for taking the time." He whispered as he gave her arms a rub. Letting her cry a bit.

He knew why she was crying more. It's only been a month since her own father untimely passing.

The girls came over as they admired the alter. Giving their mum a hug as they smiled.

"It's ok mum. They're visiting us tonight." Johnny said as he beamed with his sweet smile.

Making Ximena chuckled as she gave a kind smile back.

"Yeah.. they're always with us mijo~"

Morgana x Marc and the boys

Steven came home first before his wife and kids. The young man fidgeting with his backpack as he hanged it up.

He was tired from their trip back from New York. They had a few months out there dealing with Khonshu's deeds.

"Blood hell. Those stupid wankers in New York." He mumbled a bit as he noticed how the usual cleaned Victorian house looked.

Clothes and robes everywhere. His eyes flicker to his wife's library of books being litter on the floor.

He noticed even her crystal ball. Usually covered and tucked away was smashed on the floor.

The mirrors she had hung up were smahed and broken.

"Lads- You gotta see this." His voice was a bit shaky as he let Marc front. His eyes flickered as he stood straight. His hands flexing as he took it in.

Marc's eyebrows furried in confusion as he looked around the rest of the house.

"Girls! You're not home right?!" He called out trying to make sure none of his family was home.

Thankfully it was quiet.

Besides the bird coming in as he noticed his avatar being deranged

"What are you doing?" Khonshu's voice boomed as Marc sighed

"Can't you see I'm dealing with something? And you!" He pointed his finger at the god

"Can't be inside this house! Or aren't supposed to be!"

"Whoever or whatever did this. Broke her protection circle and her work. So I'm here now." He sassed the human as he stood in a corner. The bird looking around at the damage

"Someone knows what they were doing."

"Well that someone is gonna be murder if she comes home to this."

Khonshu laughs as he sneer at his avatar

"You fear that woman?"

"Fear? God no. But I do know not to piss her off. Have you seen what she can do? She took me out one night because a civilian was hitting on me."

He stared at the god as he stared back

"She banished me from your house"

"She really hates you. You should know that after what five years?" He gave him attitude back as Marc started to clean. He flinched when he felt a small burn.

"Ow!"

Khonshu walked over as he used his staff. Nudging the broken mirrors.

"Someone was here. Smarter than you even. Cursed all her objects. Only she can fix this. Or her gods."

Marc held his hand as he groaned. Knowing his wife was gonna be a storm to handle.

As the time did arrive. Marc cleaned what he could. But all her magical objects were out of his field

Morgana came home alone. Wearing a long frilly dress. She had meetings all day with the other clans -

"Marc Specter!"

Here it goes.

"Are you okay?" Her voice was gentle as she rushed into the kitchen. Seeing her husband as she noticed all her items broken

"I'm fine. How was the meeting?"

"It was a trap."

He moved and shook his head at her declaration.

"What?"

"Clearly it was. Because I know you value your life more than break my items."

Marc gentle nods his head as he sipped his espresso. A wince in his face as he hated the taste alone.

His eyes flicker as Steven came forward. Finishing the cup as he set another to brew

He smiled as he walked to his wife, grasping her hand as he spoke

"I'm terribly sorry my love. Those wankers deserve whatever you serve them back."

She smiled gently as she looked up to him. Her waves swirling as she stood on her tippy toes. Her little fangs brushed against his lips as she gave him a kiss.

"And that's why I love you boys. Always good at keeping me calm."

"I say other reasons too"

Her eyes widen as she wiped her head to the dreadful bird

"You're not supposed to be in my house!"

Khonshu sighs as he ran a boney hand down his beak

"Your protections got destroyed!"

"I know! No get out you good for nothing bird!" Morgana sassed him as she tapped her foot. Her house swirled and spun as the bird was thrown out

The broken items swirled as they picked up. Restored even as they set her things to their rightful spots. She was calm again. Her curls landing flat against her back. She brushed a few strands out of her face.

Everything was fixed. Her protections, her items, and her house. But she would have to find out who did this.

"I'll be in the attic. The girls are coming home with Adrian later. He took them out for dinner."

She seemed peeved, as she ascended the stairs. Her steps seem more eerie as she was out of sight.

All three knew something was wrong.

Jake pulled to the front as he told the others to shush

"I got her~"

Marc rolled his eyes at him as he sighs

"Oh you got her? What about us?"

"You two haven't seen... Everything she can do."

As Jake walked up the stairs. The attic seemed cold, he got a glimpse in as his wife was lighting her candles. She was in a black fluffy robe. Her hair in braids as she wrote on the floor in chalk.

Marc and Steven peer with Jake as they saw how cold she seemed.

"It's her worship room... Usually I don't bug her. Unless she needs help with something."

"What kind of something?" Steven asked as he noticed Jake scratched his cheek

"Sex rituals."

"And she's only asked you?" Marc asked as he seemed upset.

Jake smiled as he shook his head.

"Hey you two would freak out from the things we've seen."

The trio got silent as they noticed the room shaking. Morgana was moving with the air swirling around her. Her eyes shut as she was thinking.

Her hands ran through the chalk ward she made as she chanted

"Gods above. Gods below. Come and aid this witch. Come from sea and off the mountain peaks. I becon those I seek to aid me in my defeat"

Her eyes flickered open as she smiled. Seeing her two favorites floating besides her.

And Jake just watched. Seeing the gods in view.

Poor Marc and Steven were slightly confused why they could see them.

"Why can we see them???" Steven asked as he watched his wife talk.

Persephone and Hetec

The pair eyeing the woman. But small smiles to their lips as they took her offerings and her speech.

"Those clans should know better than to cause distrust with the Aradia clan. They left their own clues to know who it is child. Seek those clues. Find it and they'll reveal whom you seek." Hetec was calm as she gave her piece.

"If they seek to start a war. Knowing those other groups. All acting like children during these trying times for our kinds. But if they seek a war. They will receive one" the goddess vanished.

Leaving Avatar with her goddess

Persephone beamed as she floated over.

"I'll need a better offering child. You know the kind. And I think your husband's do too. But hear my words. If they believe a war is important during these times. They're mistaken. As fall creeps in, they might think this is the best time to strike. Keep a keen eye on your enemies my child. Anything can happen~" the goddess gave her a cryptic speech. Leaving her be as she floating away.

Morgana sighed as she didn't get what she expected. Her eyes flickered to the doorway as she noticed Jake

"Come here my love. We got some offerings to make~"

[dinodontwait]

Mismatched Mails

Pairing: Lee Seokmin x fem!reader

Trope: The Boy Next Door

Genre: Fluff Fluff and Fluff cause our happy virus is full of LOVE

Summary: Y/N, intrigued by a misdelivered package, encounters Seokmin, the boy next door. As they navigate the mix-ups of the mismatched mailboxes, a charming friendship blossoms. Their shared journey includes reviving a neglected garden, late-night conversations, and laughter-filled moments.

Word Count: ~1.8k

A/N : IT OUR SUNSHINE'S BIRTHDAY!!!!! I wish him all the love in this universe!!!!! Just one smile from him brightens my day I love him!!!

The unexpected package sat on my doorstep like a mystery waiting to be unraveled. Its label revealed that it was meant for Lee Seokmin, the boy next door – a neighbor I had barely exchanged more than a passing greeting with. This mishap felt like the perfect excuse to finally break the ice.

Summoning courage, I picked up the package and approached Seokmin's house. A nervous excitement tingled in my fingers as I knocked. The door opened, revealing Seokmin's warm smile. "Hi, I'm Y/N. This was delivered to my place by mistake. It's for you," I explained, extending the package toward him.

Seokmin's eyes widened in surprise as he accepted the box. "Y/N, right? Thanks a lot! I wasn't expecting anything today," he said, a grateful smile playing on his lips. It was the first time I had seen him up close, and his easy going demeanour made me feel oddly comfortable.

As he inspected the package, my eyes couldn't help but wander to our mailboxes. His, a faded red, stood next to the charming blue of mine. "Our mailboxes are quite a mismatch, huh?" I remarked, hoping to keep the conversation going.

Seokmin chuckled, a playful gleam in his eyes. "Yeah, they are. My grandpa gave me that old red one when I moved in. I always thought it added character," he shared, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

Curiosity sparked, I probed further. "Any particular reason for the blue one?"

He scratched his head, contemplating the question. "Honestly, it was the only one left at the hardware store when I moved in. Guess fate brought us these mismatched mailboxes," he mused, and our laughter echoed in the hallway.

Before I knew it, we were talking about everything from favourite books to childhood memories. As we chatted, the awkwardness dissipated, replaced by a growing sense of connection. As Seokmin closed the door, I couldn't help but smile.

The days that followed were a delightful blur of intentional mix-ups and newfound connection. Each interaction with Seokmin left me craving more, and it seemed he felt the same. Late-night conversations on the porch became our sanctuary, the only place where we could be completely ourselves.

One evening, after another successful mail exchange, we found ourselves sitting on the porch steps, surrounded by the soft glow of fairy lights. The air was filled with the subtle scent of blooming flowers, and the mismatched mailboxes stood as silent witnesses to our growing camaraderie.

Seokmin leaned back, his eyes scanning the night sky. "You know, Y/N, I never expected misdelivered mail to lead to such interesting conversations," he confessed, a playful smile playing on his lips.

I chuckled, feeling a warmth spreading through me. "Life has a funny way of bringing people together, doesn't it?"

As we continued talking, I couldn't help but notice the genuine curiosity in Seokmin's eyes. It was as if every word I said mattered, and his laughter made me feel like I was part of something special. The mismatched mailboxes became our shared secret, a symbol of the serendipity that had brought us together.

One weekend, as we tackled the neglected community garden, Seokmin's hands dirtied from planting flowers, he turned to me with a mischievous grin. "You've got a little dirt on your face," he teased, reaching over to wipe a smudge from my cheek.

I couldn't suppress the laughter that bubbled up. "Thanks, gardener boy. You've got a little something, too," I replied, returning the favor.

As we worked side by side, our laughter echoed in the garden, blending with the rustling leaves and chirping crickets. With every shared joke and every stolen glance, the connection between us deepened, like roots intertwining beneath the surface.

In a quiet moment, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Seokmin looked at me with a sincerity that took my breath away. "You make everything feel lighter, Y/N. This garden, these moments – they mean more because you're a part of them."

His words lingered in the air, and I felt a flutter in my chest. The garden, once neglected, now flourished – a testament to the beauty that could emerge from collaboration and care.

As the days turned into weeks, and our garden project flourished, Seokmin and I found ourselves drawn even closer. The mismatched mailboxes, once a source of amusement, now stood as silent witnesses to the blossoming connection between us.

One lazy afternoon, as we sat in the shade of our flourishing garden, Seokmin's fingers idly traced the patterns of the mismatched mailboxes. "You know, we've put so much effort into this garden. Maybe it's time to give our mailboxes a little makeover too," he suggested, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A makeover for our mailboxes?"

Seokmin nodded, a playful smile playing on his lips. "Why not? It's a fun way to mark the growth of our friendship."

And just like that, we decided to switch the mailboxes – a symbolic gesture of unity and the beginning of a shared journey. As we unscrewed the mailboxes from their posts, Seokmin spoke, his voice carrying a sense of quiet excitement.

"You know, these mailboxes have seen it all – the misdelivered packages, our late-night conversations, the birth of our garden. They've been witnesses to the story of us," he said, his gaze locked with mine.

I couldn't help but smile. "Our little mismatched mailboxes have become a part of our narrative, haven't they?"

With the switch complete, the charming blue mailbox now stood next to the faded red one. It felt like a visual representation of our intertwined lives. Seokmin grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "There we go – a match made in mailbox heaven."

As we sat on the porch, admiring our handiwork, Seokmin turned to me, his expression softening. "Y/N, from mismatched mail to a shared garden, you've made every moment brighter. I cherish the memories we've created together."

His words hung in the air, and I felt a warmth spreading through me. "Seokmin, you've brought so much joy into my life. I couldn't imagine this journey with anyone else."

In that quiet moment, with the mismatched mailboxes standing as a testament to our unique story, Seokmin's hand found mine, fingers intertwining in a gentle, reassuring grip. Our eyes locked, and I could sense a vulnerability in his gaze that mirrored my own feelings. His voice, a mere whisper, carried a weight of emotions. "Y/N," he said, his breath warm against my skin, "from the first misdelivered package to this very moment, every step with you has been a treasure. I don't want to imagine this journey with anyone else."

My heart fluttered in response to his sincerity, and as he leaned in, the world around us seemed to fade away. Our lips met in a tender kiss, a fusion of shared laughter, late-night conversations, and the unspoken confessions that had shaped our connection. In that intimate embrace, the mismatched mailboxes became more than a quirky detail – they became the symbols of our journey, our resilience, and the beautifully imperfect love that had unfolded.

As our kiss lingered, Seokmin pulled back, his eyes searching mine for confirmation. "Y/N, I don't know about you, but for me, this feels like the beginning of something extraordinary. What do you say we let our story continue?"

A surge of affection overwhelmed me, and I nodded, unable to find words that could encapsulate the depth of my emotions. Seokmin smiled, a soft and understanding expression, and with our hands still entwined, we sat on the porch, the mismatched mailboxes behind us, illuminated by the soft glow of our garden.

"Here's to the future, Y/N," Seokmin whispered, his voice filled with hope and promise.

"Here's to the future," I echoed, and in that moment, beneath the stars and surrounded by the symbols of our unique love story, we embarked on a new chapter that promised laughter, shared dreams, and the beauty that comes from embracing the unexpected.

BONUS

Our home was a lively swirl of laughter and chatter as friends gathered to celebrate Seokmin's birthday. Soonyoung and Seungkwan, the dynamic duo, were in the middle of their classic bickering routine, providing the background music to our joyful chaos.

"Soonyoung, if you eat another slice of cake before the birthday boy, you're in trouble!" Seungkwan playfully scolded, brandishing a spatula as his weapon of choice.

Soonyoung grinned mischievously. "Can't resist the temptation, Seungkwan. It's for quality control purposes! Tiger never fails to check!"

Amid the banter, I searched for Seokmin, who was surrounded by friends, a warm glow in his eyes. When he noticed me approaching, a grin stretched across his face. "Hey, beautiful. What's the plan?"

Leaning in, I whispered into his ear, "I have a surprise for you. Follow me."

Curiosity sparkled in Seokmin's eyes as I led him to a more secluded corner. With a mischievous smile, I placed his hand on my stomach. His eyes widened with realization, and a mixture of emotions danced in his gaze.

"Happy birthday, Seokmin," I whispered, a teasing smile playing on my lips. "Looks like we're going to have a little someone joining our story."

His eyes filled with tears, and he pulled me into a tight embrace. "Y/N, this is the best birthday gift ever. I can't believe we're going to be parents."

As we shared the news with Soonyoung and Seungkwan, the atmosphere shifted from playful banter to heartfelt congratulations. Soonyoung's eyes widened, and he exclaimed, "Whoa, a mini-Seokmin on the way! We're going to have so much fun spoiling that kid. We can name them BooSeokSoon or better Horanghae~~"

Seungkwan giving BOObamstic a side eye to Soonyoung and his tiger agenda, added with a grin, "Congratulations, you two. Parenthood – the grandest adventure of all."

As the party continued, Seokmin couldn't stop smiling. He held my hand, his thumb tracing small circles over my fingers, a silent acknowledgment of the new chapter unfolding in our lives.

Underneath the fairy lights and surrounded by the warmth of friends, we celebrated not just Seokmin's birthday but the beginning of a journey into parenthood. As the night unfolded, I stole a moment to look outside our home. There, illuminated by the soft glow of the garden lights, stood the mismatched mailboxes side by side – a quaint symbol of the journey that had led us to this magical point in our lives. As Seokmin joined me, our fingers intertwined, we gazed at the mismatched mailboxes, a silent acknowledgment of our shared story and the beautiful chapters yet to be written. The promise of a growing family, laughter echoing through the halls, and love that would continue to flourish just like the garden we had nurtured together.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Love at the Top - Part 2

Pairing: Teacher Ben x f! Teacher reader

Word Count: 2000+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: This is a multiple requested smutty part 2 to LOVE AT THE TOP with our beloved Teacher Ben! @fishingforpike I hope you like it! It was not beta'd.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

Main Masterlist 

Teacher Ben Masterlist

Love at the Top Part 1

A knock raps on my door promptly at noon. I open it with a smile, my dress swishing around me as Ben stands there, mouth slightly agape behind the flowers he has in his hand. 

"Y-you… you l-look amazing."

I smile, swaying my hips side to side. "Thanks. Are those for me?"

"Oh, yeah. I wasn't sure what your favorite was so I got one of each."

The bouquet held about 12 flowers, each one a different kind. It was bright and beautiful, bring life into the room when I placed them in a vase on my table. 

"They're beautiful, Ben. Thank you."

He wipes his palms against his pants before putting them in his pockets. "You ready? We have an hour drive or so."

"You never told me where…wait. Does your tie have a Gatsby quote on it?" I walk up to him, picking up the end of the tie and looking at it. 

"Oh, uh yeah. You said it was your favorite…" His voice trails off as he shrugs. 

I look up at him, big brown eyes looking at me like I'm the only thing in the room. I tug it to pull him down and kiss him, arms sliding around each other. Suddenly he breaks the kiss, staring down at me. 

"We better get in the car or we'll never make it."

"Would that be such a bad thing?"

He groans in the back of his throat. "No. But I really think you'll like it."

"And I wouldn't like you?"

He chuckles. "I hope you will, sweet girl."

"You're gonna have to stop calling me that if you want us to leave."

He smiles. "That's fair."

He takes my hand and leads me out of the door, pausing as I lock it behind me. We drive for about an hour, chatting about anything and everything along the way, having concerts with the good songs that come on. It's only when he turns into the parking lot that I realize where he's taken me. 

"The Gatsby manuscript??" I all but yell, neatly vibrating off my seat as I stare out the window at the museum. "How did you know I've been dying to see them?"

"You mentioned it a month or so ago."

I turn to look at him. "A month? And you remembered?"

He smiles and nods at me. "Of course. Your eyes light up when you talk about it."

I lean in and kiss him, my hand rubbing at the stubble on his cheek. "How did you score tickets? They've been sold out for a while."

"The curator is my cousin."

"Seriously?"

"Yup."

"That's so fucking cool."

He escorts me out and into the museum, watching my face nearly the entire time, letting me ramble on and on about how much I love The Great Gatsby and how amazing it is to see it first hand, actually handwritten notes by the author himself. 

He smiles the whole ride back to town as I continue to talk, the conversation eventually shifting to Star Wars as we sit down to eat. Conversation flows easy between us, no matter what we're talking about. 

Eventually, we end up on my doorstep, both of us shuffling nervously and chattering on, unwilling to let the evening end. 

"I had a great time, Ben."

"Me too. I didn't think you'd get along with an old man like me."

"I thought we agreed you aren't old?"

"No, you said I wasn't old. My back begs to differ." 

"Hhmm…" I fiddle with his tie. "Sounds like you need to go to bed."

"Y-Yeah. That might help."

He kisses me, pushing me back against my front door. I hitch my leg over his thigh, pulling him closer, both our hands tangled in the other's hair. 

"I have a bed inside you can use."

His eyes darken as he stares down at me. "Are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

I fish out my keys, trying to unlock my door but finding it hard to focus with Ben's hands on my hips, rubbing little circles into them. 

Finally, my door unlocks and I push it open, turning to grab onto Ben's tie, pulling him inside, giggling when he kicks the door shut behind him. I reach behind him to lock it, gasping when Ben starts sucking on my neck. 

"Ben," I sigh, feeling him shift and moan into my neck.

His lips move to mine and we start to walk, me guiding us towards my bedroom. But several steps later, Ben trips and we fall and he lands on top of me. 

"Fuck I'm sorry! Are you-"

I pull his face to mine, kissing the apology from his lips, my legs parting to pull him in closer and I can feel him through his pants. 

"Here?" He breaks the kiss, staring down at me, our noses barely touching. 

"I don't care where, Ben. I need you. Now." I grip the back of his shirt, trying to untuck it from his pants. 

"I.. yeah ok."

I look at him this time. "Is that ok?"

"I.. yeah."

I push him up slightly, getting him to meet my eyes. "What is it?"

He blushes slightly, looking away from my gaze. "I just…"

"Are your knees ok? Your back?"

"What? Oh yeah I'm ok."

"Then what?"

He quiet a moment. "I've never done…this… on a floor before."

Oh. 

I smile and trace his cheek with my fingertip. "That's ok, Ben. Do you want to?"

His clothed hips rut into mine in response and I whine, watching him smirk down at me. "I want you, sweet girl."

"Then take me. Please."

His eyes darken, blowing wide with lust before he kisses me. One of his arms braces him on the ground while the other moves down my body, sliding up my bare thigh as he pushes my dress up. He hesitates at my panties but when I moan, he gains some courage, hooking his fingers around the band and sliding them down. His hand comes back up my body, his finger teasing me between my thighs. Finally he touches me and my hips jolt at the connection. 

"Oh fuck," I pant, as his fingers explore my apex. 

"I gotta work you open, sweet girl. Get you ready for me. Is that ok?"

I nod several times quickly, pleading for him to do more. He wastes no time in pushing a finger inside me, twirling his finger around until I jolted. He adds another finger and finds that spot again, curling his fingers against it. 

"Here?" He asks, studying my face. 

"Oh fuck yes!" His thumb comes up to rub at my clit and I'm done for, too wound up to wait and I whine his name, gripping his arms as I find my release. 

"You make the sweetest sounds when you come."

I chuckle. "I usually don't come that fast even when I'm solo."

His eyes snap to mine. "When..when y-you're solo?"

"Yes, Ben. People masterbate."

His voice is quiet and a few octaves lower. "Will you show me sometime?"

"I can show you now-"

He grabs the wrist I had started to slide down my body. "No. Now, I need you. If that's ok?"

"God, please."

He lifts himself slightly off of me and I fumble with his belt, quickly opening it and reaching my hand inside to grip him. He grunts, a series of swears tumble from him as I pull him out. He's big, bigger than I've had. No wonder he had to work me open - I can't barely close my fingers around him. I line him up with me and I feel him at my entrance, just touching me and heat rushes to my cunt. But he doesn't move. 

"Ben?"

"Do you have a condom?"

"I uh, oh. No. But we discussed being clean-"

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"I'm protected. It's safe. If you want."

There's no more color in his eyes, dark and black with lust. "Oh God I want to. If that's-"

"Stop asking if every move is ok. All of it is. You have my consent to fuck me however you want. If something is wrong I'll tell you. Just please, Ben. I need you to move."

He catches my gaze and then slowly pushes inside of me. I can feel my skin stretching to accommodate his size, burning slightly at the edges but it's a good feeling. He pauses halfway and looks at me.

"Are you ok?"

"Y-yeah. You're just…the biggest I've ever had."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"If you stop, I'm going to fling myself out of the window."

He chuckles. "We can't have that."

My reply dies on my lips as he pushes in the rest of the way, stretching and filling me. I don't remember ever feeling this full before, and oh shit what is he hitting inside me? 

Ben pulls his hips back and slides into me again, slowly still. I hitch my thigh over his hip and he grabs it to hold my leg in place. He adds an extra thrust when he bottoms out and I cry his name, stars erupting in my vision as heat rushes between my thighs. Ben is hesitant, as if he can't read my expression. Or he doubts himself. 

"There! Fuck, Ben. What are you- ugh!" He pushes in again, picking up his pace and slamming into that spot over and over, my next orgasm building quickly with each thrust. He slows down, only to bring a hand up, trying to lift my dress up over my chest. He's struggling, so I reach my hands up, sliding down the straps and pulling down the top of my dress. Thankful I wore a front clasping bra, I quickly undo it, boobs springing free. His hips falter as he stares at my chest. 

He drops his head to my chest, taking a boob in his mouth, biting at my nipple. His hips resume rutting into me and my release washes over me, warmth spreading out from between my thighs as I cry his name, Ben still moving his hips and hitting that spot to drag out my release. 

"I'm gonna…" Ben tries to speak but then his hips sputter, thrusting up several more times into me, quiet moans and gasps leaving his lips as he comes inside of me. Breathing heavy, we lay there still connected for a few moments, just trying to catch our breath. Ben lifts his head from my chest and stares down at me, the lust receding and being replaced by something more like…love?

"Fuck you're so beautiful." 

"So are you, Ben."

He scoffs. "I'm an old man."

"An old man who just fucked me into this floor."

He smirks, unable to hide the pride on his face. "That's true. But I'm sure you've done this before, with your young back and all."

"No one has ever fucked me like that, Ben. I've never…I've never came like that before."

His eyebrows knit together. "What?"

"It's like you were hitting some spot in the back of me. Like..at the far back-"

He nods. "I think that's called your a spot?"

"WE HAVE ANOTHER SPOT? MY EDUCATION HAS FAILED ME."

Ben cracks up, his laughter shaking my body as I join him too, stopping when he hisses. 

"Stop laughing! Hold on." He pulls out and then resumes laughing with me. 

Ben helps me straighten my dress and stand up, pulling me close to his body and kissing me. 

"You ok?"

"I am. But next time let's be in a bed. I may be 24 but this floor is still hard."

His eyes darken. "Next time?"

"Yeah. If you want?"

"As long as you'll have me. I'm free tomorrow for dinner?"

"Dinner? I was thinking in another 10 minutes."

He chuckles. "I'm an old man, sweet girl. I don't think my knees can do that again so soon."

"Who says you'll be on top?"

—----

General Taglist:

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[harringtons-cupid]

Fluff prompt~~ 3, 24, 28, 54, 94 with Steeeeevee I'm soft and need to be taken care of lmao

Thank you for requesting this!! I’m sorry to took SO long for me to get too 🫣 but I hope you enjoy (my English is terrible in this forgive me!)

Fluff prompt list | KO-FI | MASTERLIST

#3-hiding face in neck

#24 -whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin

#28 - feeling for each other in the dark

#54 - an accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose

#94 -tentative kisses given in the dark

Steve had invited you to stay over, it was early in your relationship and you were nervous.

You didn’t really know you stood with him, as you sat your makeup dresser and figured out your look for tonight. After an hour of struggling, you managed to be comfortable in your smart casual look.

The drive over to Steve was nerve wracking, you had been alone in public with him but this was the first time that you would be in a personal and intimate setting. You had thought about him in that way but you wanted nothing more than to be soft with him.

There was a cool breeze as you stood on bud doorstep, waiting for him. He looked pretty as the side light illuminated his features in the dark, smiling at you so politely as he invited you inside. Watching you walk on ahead, the house smelt oddly nice as if he did it for the occasion.

You had never been to his house before, the nerves from the car journey over had got rid of some of the anxious feelings.

He led you into the living room where a movie night was set up for the both of you. After searching through the VHS tapes that were laid out on the floor, you pressed play on the box and sat down comfortably on the sofa.

His arm eventually rested against the back of the sofa, his fingers traced your skin gently. Creating goosebumps all your body as your attention was diverted from the film and back onto him, your breath was shallow as his nails dig deeper into your neck.

“Stevie” you whined, shooting him a playful look watching as he laughed and placed his hand on your shoulder.

Edging closer to him, you leant into his body and felt him relax as his hand met yours. His breathing was soft and calm as you both focused on the movie, after a while your eyes became heavy and droopy.

Your head dropping into your chest as you drifted into sleep, Steve chuckled watching your body rise and fall. His hand still dangling off your shoulder, it got closer to the ending credits when he shook you softly.

“Baby, I think we should go to bed” his voice was soft and quiet, whispering into your ear.

He slowly got up first, helping you off the sofa that you had sunk into. Bringing you closer to his body, your eyes were sleepy as you smiled up at him. His head hid your neck as he gently kissed your skin, making you giggle.

Giggling before lacing your hands together, letting him lead you up the stairs. Your soft footsteps followed his, you were too sleepy to be nervous as he opened his bedroom door.

You not expecting it to look the way it did, you noticed that he had recently changed from a single bed to a double as it took up most of the room.

He collapsed onto the bed with a “oof” you rolled your eyes with a smile as you fell next to him. His body was warm and soft as he pulled you onto his chest.

You stayed there for a while before you got to that sleepy state again and Steve shook you lightly.

“Let’s get changed baby” he smiled, feeling you get up from his chest.

It wasn’t long before you back in his bed, the lights were out with the moonlight bouncing off his unappealing bedroom walls. The noise of shuffling moved against the mattress as you both searched for each other, hands moving in all direction until they latched together.

He rolled over, latching his hands under your body and pulled you closer him. He leant over your body, admiring what he could in the dark. His lips met your cheek, roughly kissing your body before trailing down until he grazed more of your coarser skin. Watching you shudder at his touch, he smirked as his lips hovered over your ear.

“You looked so pretty tonight” he whispered with a smile.

Unable to see that you were blushing, you tried to turn your head away from him but his fingers latched under your chin and pulled you back towards him. His arm collapsed under him from the pressure of adjusting his weight towards pulling you, with an “oof” he fell onto you.

An accidental brush of your lips as he fell, moving away instantly before your eyes landed on each other. An invisible pull forced your lips back together, nervous at first but Steve’s body moved to cup your face with his hands.

You had never kissed him before, both of you were still unsure as your bodies moved together. The sounds of soft kisses filled the room as Steve leant closer to yours, his thumbs circling your cheeks as he let out a soft moan.

It was heaven, his lips were soft and gentle as they moved naturally with yours.

You couldn’t wait to spend more time at Steve’s.

[fingersinmyhair]

detective/cop reader? Hot on the trail of carvers secret identity. There's only two people in town that has motive, and the time to be John Carver. And reader has the list narrowed down to Eric and his best friend. Hearing that, Eric offers to come over to "answer any questions" the reader might have. Just to "clear his name" ;333€ and obviously reader doesn't tell anyone, he's coming over

It had been months since the last kill, but you were finally hot on the trail of the killer. Or, at least, you'd narrowed it down to two possible suspects, both the only people in town with motive, time, resources, and personality type to fit the crime.

Ironically, they were best friends, so perhaps you were wrong and it was both of them. Or neither. Once you'd narrowed it down, you called your boss from the small side office you had at the Sheriff's department, temporary as you investigated, and informed him of who you'd narrowed it down to.

He was not pleased that you were calling with non-news, so you hung up and gathered your things, rushing out of the room and almost running down the Sheriff in the process. He was holding a cup of coffee for himself, one for you. He gave you a sheepish smile.

"Listen- I'll be honest, I just overheard your phone call while I was waiting and-"

"This conversation is finished."

"No! Wait- I- I wanted to clear my name, if that's possible. I have proof that it wasn't me. I'll bring all of the evidence I've collected on the case-" Sheriff Newlon explained, holding out the coffee for you, but you cut him off.

"You've kept details of the case hidden from me?"

"You don't exactly let me talk to you. At all." He defended himself. You eyed him and took the coffee, sighing.

"Alright, just leave it all-"

"I was thinking I could make you dinner, we could pour over the evidence together, I could make my case, then you could kick me to the curb," he offered, having an entire plan set out for the two of you.

You stared at him. You couldn't be caught fraternizing with someone you had just named one of the lead suspects of the most violent case the town had seen in decades. You weighed your options and eyed him carefully, nodding.

"Fine. Come over at 5, be gone by 7:30, and I'm not cleaning up your mess."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, Detective," he gave you a glowing grin, toothy and confident.

꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦

At exactly 5:05 p.m., Sheriff Eric Newlon was on your doorstep with a brown paper bag of ingredients. When he knocked, you let him in, still wearing your work attire, but he was dressed down. Or dressed up.

"If I wasn't a smarter person, I'd think you thought this was a date," you warned softly, smiling at the man. He shrugged.

"Why? Because I wore a button-up, brought steak and wine, and hope you get to know me better? Shame on you, I'm trying to clear my name here."

You couldn't help but smile at the man.

"You brought steak and wine?"

"I'm buttering you up, what else would I have brought?" He stepped up to the kitchen counter and put the bag down, pulling everything out. He packed potatoes, garlic, asparagus, steaks, a sweet, decadent red wine.

"I won't be bribed, Sheriff. This is a civil discussion over dinner," you said firmly, sitting at the island in the kitchen, watching him work from behind. He asked where the pans were and you pointed.

"Thank you, Detective," he hummed, looking around, "You have a beautiful home. It's a shame you never get to be in it because of work."

"Thank you. Maybe once I reveal that you're the killer, I'll get a promotion and can stay home in Plymouth for a while," you teased warmly, watching him turn and eye you with caution and something else in the look. Something warm.

"Maybe. Maybe you'll find that I'm good company," he countered.

You smirked at him, watching him in silence before getting down from your chair and retrieving two wine glasses from the cabinet.

You let him make dinner in peace, asking him if he needed any help, but he didn't want any. By the time he was done, your house smelled delicious and you were both a glass and a half in, which was a complete accident. You'd gotten to talking about your lives as he cooked, which is what he'd planned.

He hadn't planned on getting tipsy. Hadn't planned on looking at you over the meal like he'd rather be eating you.

Much to your lack of knowledge, he probably would rather.

You didn't expect the look to stir something inside of you.

The steak was the best steak you'd ever had, succulent and tender, with plenty of garlic and butter. He'd paired the steaks with homemade mashed potatoes and garlic butter-roasted asparagus. And of course, more wine.

By the end of dinner, you were pleasantly full and on your fourth glass, having pulled a chilled bottle of wine out of your fridge to continue the evening in the living room.

"Come. Bring this "evidence" you claim you have," you ordered loosely, pointing at his messenger bag draped over his table chair. He grabbed it on command and followed you to the living room, wine in one hand, forged innocence in another. He was drunk in more than one way, so close to slipping out of your sights as a killer that it felt heady.

He laid out all of the papers he could on your coffee table, handing you a written, organized time sheet of when he was on the clock, times he'd been seen on camera during kills, even helping clear his best friend's name in the process.

You were drunk, but you weren't stupid, "Can I keep these? Just until tomorrow, so I can look them over with a clear mind?"

He nodded, amenable to the idea.

"Thank you, Detective, thank you. For considering my innocence."

"Don't thank me yet, but... You seem to be fine. No need to tie up any loose ends with loved ones, I mean," you joked, eyeing your glass and downing the half-glass of wine.

There was something warm coming to a head in your gut, becoming more and more obvious to you the longer his eyes lingered on you. You caught him staring at where your lips met the glass, caressing it, coaxing him and the wine closer. It was intoxicating, the attention with the alcohol.

"I uh. I thank you for that, then, Detective," Sheriff Newlon cleared his throat and straightened his back, finishing his glass.

"Of course, Sheriff. You've proven your innocence for now, and that's good enough for me," you explained slowly, only just realizing how drunk you were. He smiled at you, a lazy, warm thing directed at you and only you.

"Please, call me Eric, Detective," he said warmly, something close to sultry slipping into his voice.

"Only if you keep calling me Detective like you do, Eric," you said back, with just as much warmth, just as much want.

He leaned in close to you, eyeing your mouth, scooting closer on the couch at the same time as you did the same thing, "Oh, I can promise that, Detective."

"Fuck," you muttered, leaning in, feeling his hand snake up your throat and jaw, pushing into your hair slightly. You bared your neck, leaning into the touch.

His watch went off, alerting you both that it was 7:30 p.m. and it was time for him to leave.

He pulled your head back by your hair gently, kissing up your throat, speaking softly between kisses, "I should call a cab."

"Crash on the couch," you mumbled, head swimming with wine and lust and a need for something more, starved for touch, "Or the bed. Or the floor."

You were slurring your words slightly, snaking a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair, tugging.

"I don't care, but let's not pretend you weren't always going to stay te night," you said boldly, pulling him up by his hair into a kiss. He moaned into your mouth, smirking against you and nodding into the kiss.

"Deal, no more pretending."

[iheart-nana]

xxxv. tunnel vision

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩⋆｡° ✮

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE ─ tunnel vision.

❛ we got nothing else to do, and nothing else to lose ❜

Narrator's Perspective

Eunyoung stood at Sunjae's doorstep, her backpack hanging from one shoulder as her legs shook nervously. The truth was that she was so insanely anxious. It was a foreign feeling to Eunyoung who tends to look at the positive aspect of every situation. But her stupid little crush on Sunjae had her considering all the horrible possibilities by which she could screw up. What if she stuttered and stammered like an idiot? What if she was too distracted and couldn't help Sunjae at all? All these trivial matters occupied her mind as she fidgeted with her clothes.

She then remembered the previous night...

Eunyoung paced around her room biting her lip in frustration. After all the lengths she went to to prevent Sunjae's death, nothing had changed in the future. He was still dead. And time was running out. Depression. Suicide. These words rang in her mind in an endless loop. They made her heart twist and ache unbearably. What could he possibly have been going through for him to make such a decision? 

Fear crept in her mind. The future seemed to be advancing like a hungry beast, ready to take Sunjae away from her once again. Then, all of a sudden, like a light had been turned on in her brain, she had an idea. Her eyes shifted to her window, which was facing Sunjae's. His window was open, and no one seemed to be there inside. 

She scrambled through her drawers and pulled out a blank, blue sheet.

"I know life's tough sometimes. It feels like everything is falling apart and the world has turned it's back. But you need to hold on to hope. Lean on your loved ones. Because they're the ones who are always rooting for you."

She poured her heart out onto the paper and made a bunch of  folds. Eunyoung herself was amazed at her memory and at how her mind suddenly pulled out everything she learnt from some random origami workshop she attended. Everything had gone through one ear and come out through another. But, somehow she seemed to remember just one thing. Paper airplanes. Destiny had been working in strange ways, leading her to Sunjae.

Then, she did one of the most irrational things in her life. She leaned on her window sill and threw the paper airplane as she watched it land inside his house.

Taking in a deep breath, Eunyoung reached out and rang the doorbell. She waited before the blue gate till Sunjae's father emerged from the main entrance of their house and approached her with a wide, toothy grin. Eunyoung returned his smile. It had been a while since she had seen his father and she was glad to see his warm greeting.

"Oh, come in, dear," he said, unlatching the front door.

As they stepped into the house, her father motioned her to sit down. Sitting down on the little sofa in the center of their living room. It was a cozy little dwelling, with warm lamps and light bulbs and a brown carpet lying across the floor.

"So, Eunyoung," his father began, "What brings you here?"

"I'm here to help Sunjae with math," the moment those words fell out of Eunyoung's mouth, Sunjae's father's expression suddenly turned grave. She chuckled at the worry on his face.

"Ah, yes," he said, sounding embarrassed, "It is quite a... ehh... shameful thing. He got an earful from me already."

"Nothing to worry about, really," she said with a small laugh, "He'll catch up soon."

"Well, if there's anyone who can help him, it's you!"

While Eunyoung's ears turned red at Sunjae's blind faith in her abilities, she heard a thudding as Sunjae's tall figure emerged from a flight of stairs. He was dressed in simple, black track pants and a navy blue tshirt, and yet Eunyoung's eyes turned wide. The mere sight of him made her feel like her heart would jump out of her chest.

"Sorry I kept you waiting," he said sheepishly, shooting her a dimpled smile that she hadn't seen in far too long. His smile never failed to fill her heart with a comfortable warmth that she could easily get used to. A blush crept up her cheeks that she tried her best to hide.

"Nonsense," she waved her hand in front of her face, "Your father is a great conversationalist."

"Pfft!" his dad laughed heartily, "You flatter me."

"Should we get started?" Sunjae interrupted rather impatiently. His dad smiled knowingly, aware of his eagerness to spend time with Eunyoung.

"Oh, yes let's do that."

They made their way up the stairs, then entered Sunjae's bedroom. The door shut with a thud behind them, and they were alone at last. Eunyoung scanned his room briefly, a smile surfacing on her lips. There were trophies, certificates, medals on display and her eyes lingered on the photos of Sunjae. 

"There's a lot of blue in here," she observed. Suddenly, her smile grew wider as she spotted the blue paper from the paper airplane she had sent the previous day.

"My favorite color," Sunjae said, the words basically fumbled out of his mouth. His heart was pounding in his chest, daring to jump out any second. His gaze lingered on Eunyoung. She wore a pair of dark blue, comfortable-looking jeans with a dusty pink top. She looked as pretty as ever, with her long, flowing hair and sparkling eyes. He quickly looked away, feeling the warmth on his face.

They sat down at his desk, and Sunjae's lethargic and sloth-like movement indicated his unwillingness to study. The truth was that if he could, he could sit and stare at Eunyoung in admiration for the rest of his life. Snapping out of his trance, he blinked his eyes rapidly and took out his math textbooks .

"What are your grades like in other subjects?" she inquired, turning to look at him.

"A B is probably the most I've ever gotten," he answered, his ears turning red in shame. This wasn't exactly the side of himself he wanted Eunyoung to know.

The small, rather elegant chuckle that escaped her mouth filled his ears, "You don't have to look so embarrassed, Sunjae, I'm here to help you, not judge you."

There it was again. She had such a way with words, the way she weaved them just the right way. Her words never failed to be a source of strength for him. This newfound vulnerability filled him with a sense of comfortability instead of the usual unease and fear that came with opening up to someone.

"So, what do you hate most about math?"

"Algebra," he said, sounding quite petrified.

"Then let's start with that."

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩⋆｡° ✮

nana's notes: sunjae's dad being the best wingman ever.

delphi's notes: FEAR OF ALGEBRA IS SO REALL. eunyoung you demon.

next chapter: saturday list of chapters here!

[queenofthekings]

𝖜𝖍𝖔 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗, 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖎𝖎𝖎 (𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊)

Summary: Hawkins, Indiana, 1986. A dead end town where nothing happens. One night, Eddie Munson goes missing without a trace. He turns up two weeks later on your doorstep, covered in blood and no memory of the last two weeks. When you notice him acting strangely, you follow Eddie into the woods and discover his terrifying secret. But the most terrifying part to you? You can't bring yourself to stay away from Eddie. Whether you've realised you're in love with him or you're under his spell, you don't want to be away from Eddie for a single second and a deadly love affair begins.

Author's note: Thank you guys so so much for loving this story!

CW: 18+, swearing, character death, sex references, potential smut in later chapters, vampire!Eddie, blood, scenes that people may find disturbing.

Word count: 4.1k

Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.

You and Eddie stood in the doorway, staring at each other for several minutes. Neither of you were sure if the other was truly real. All the emotions you’d kept inside for so long came to the surface as a tear rolled down your cheek and you bit back a sob. “If this is some kind of sick joke, stop it right now.”

Eddie shook his head, brushing away your tear with his thumb. “It’s me, Juliet.”

You melted at his touch, instantly feeling a warm glow in your stomach as your cheeks began heating up. “You must be freezing, please come in.” Stepping aside, you let him inside and closed the door behind him. He stood in the hallway almost awkwardly until you took his hand, leading him upstairs and into your room, being sure to lock the door behind you before you turned the light on.

In the bright light of your room, you could finally see how badly dishevelled and bloody Eddie truly was. You sat him down on your bed, with you kneeling down in front of him, your hands on his knee. “Are you bleeding?”

He shook his head, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “It’s not mine.”

Frowning a little, you felt a small pang of anxiety rising within you as you realised the implications of his answer. If he wasn’t bleeding, someone else might be. “Do I need to call the cops?”

He shook his head again, looking down at you with those big, beautiful brown eyes. “I’m okay, I just wanna stay here with you,” he almost whispered.

It felt like he’d never left, like the two weeks he was gone was all a bad dream and he’d been there the whole time. With him back, you hoped things would go back to how they were but that nagging voice in the back of your head was telling you that nothing would ever be the same.

There were so many unanswered questions; where did he go for two weeks? Why is he covered in blood? If it’s not his blood, then whose blood is it? Why didn’t he call to tell anyone he was okay? Of course, you wanted answers to all your questions, but you didn’t want to overwhelm him as soon as he came back.

Moving to sit beside him, you rested your head on his shoulder. “I missed you. Every single day, I wished for you to come home.”

Eddie moved an arm around your, bringing you closer and moving your face into his neck. “That’s why I came here first, I just knew I had to see you. We had a date.”

A ghost of a smile came across your lips as you thought about that missed date, all the missed opportunities and possibilities. “We did. But I’ll forgive you for missing it, only if you make it up to me?”

It was his turn to smile at your request. “Of course! I’ll make it up to you. No spoilers for how I’ll make it up to you, but I promise you I’ll do it.”

You looked at each other, taking in every tiny detail on each other’s face, content with the silence until you finally spoke up. “Where did you go?”

He looked down, almost sadly as he shook his head. “I can’t talk about it… not yet.”

Can’t talk or won’t talk?

Almost as if he could read your mind, he rested his forehead against yours. “I want to tell you. I really do, but I just can’t.”

You closed your eyes as you enjoyed the feeling of his breath on your face and his warmth around you, nodding your head. “Can you stay with me tonight? I don't want you to go.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Nodding slowly, you moved under the covers, watching Eddie get up from the bed and turn the light off before climbing back onto the bed and lying down beside you. Lying together in the dark, you awkwardly looked between each other and the ceiling, unsure of who should make the first move – if either of you even should make a move.

Biting your bottom lip, you moved over to him and rested your head against his chest, an arm over his stomach. You felt his arm wrap around you and his fingers gently scratching the top of your head, causing you to yawn, the motion making you sleepy.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep in his arms, finally having a good night’s sleep for the first time since Eddie vanished.

In the morning, you woke up alone with your window open. Sitting up, you kept your warm covers around you as you looked around your room. It was almost as if Eddie coming home last night as all a dream, there wasn’t a trace left of him anywhere.

After getting ready, you made your way downstairs and noticed your glass still on the stairs from last night. After Eddie showing up at the door, you’d forgotten it downstairs, still full of water. Picking it up from the step, you took a few sips of it before pouring the remainder down the sink. Behind you, an arm placed a mug into the sink. Turning around, you smiled once you saw it was Stephen.

“You ready to go?” he asked, gently nudging your shoulder as he smiled back.

Nodding, you readjusted the straps on your backpack. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

You both walked out to the car, Stephen slipping a cassette into the player before driving off. Kate Bush’s Running Up That Hill filled the silence between you two, with you looking between your window and your older brother, trying to find something to say but nothing came to mind.

You couldn’t exactly tell him that you saw Eddie the night before and he’d held you until you fell asleep, but he was gone by the time you woke up. And that he was covered in blood that apparently wasn’t his and he didn’t want the police called.

You weren’t even sure if Eddie had been declared as found and the search called off, he never said. But you were sure if he had been declared, he would’ve been stuck at the station for hours, there would’ve been news bulletins everywhere but there was… nothing. If you saw him again at school, you’d demand answers. Nothing was making sense and it bothered you massively.

And to make matters worse, you had that feeling that something was horribly wrong again. It made you feel like you were going to be sick and that feeling only intensified as Stephen arrived in the parking lot.

“You okay?” He asked, instantly noticing how pale you looked. “You look like you’re about to hurl.”

You looked at him, trying to hide your anxiety but was clearly failing miserably. “Not really, I just have that really bad feeling again.”

He leaned over and held your hand. “If you need to call of sick, we can turn the car around and go home.”

Shaking your head, you picked up your backpack from the floor and opened the car door. “I’ll be okay, it’s just early morning nerves.”

He sighed, grimacing a little. “Well, if you feel worse, get the nurse to call home and I’ll come and pick you up, okay?”

You nodded and closed the door, putting your headphones on as you walked through the halls, Depeche Mode drowning everyone out. You looked down at the floor just for a second and when you looked back up, at the end of the hall was Eddie.

Everyone had faded away, leaving just the two of you alone in the hallway.

In the mixture of artificial light and daylight, you could properly take a look at him. His once torn and bloody clothes were now pristine and clean, with no scrape or bloodstain anywhere on them. He almost looked normal, but his eyes… oh god his eyes.

His once chocolate brown eyes were gone and in their place were solid black orbs. Your brain was telling you to run, run far away as fast as you could and scream, but if anything, you felt a complete sense of calm.

Slowly you began walking towards him, not much of your own accord but you just felt compelled to do so. You felt this urge to be as close to him as possible, a completely overwhelming desire to be with him, a hunger inside of you that you’d never felt before.

Just as you were about to finally touch his hand, you felt a hand on your shoulder, dragging you back into the pandemonium of the busy hallway. Turning around and taking your headphones off, you saw Gareth’s concerned face. “You okay?”

You looked at him for a moment before turning back to where Eddie was, or rather had been. Where he stood was now an empty space and there was no sign of him anywhere. “He was right there,” you almost whispered as you turned back to Gareth.

Frowning, he looked behind you before back to you, completely confused. “Who was?”

“Eddie, I swear he was right in front of me. I know you won’t believe me because nobody’s said he's been found but I promise you he was here.”

He just became more and more confused as you kept talking. “What’re you talking about?”

“Eddie was here!”

Sighing, he rested a hand on your shoulder. “Listen to me, I don't know what you’ve been smoking but Eddie never went missing.”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “Yes he did, I have his missing person’s poster in my backpack-”

Watching you open your backpack, he stopped you. “Jesus, Jason must’ve done a number on your head.”

You frowned, shaking your head a little. “I don't know what you mean.”

“Jason jumped you on your way home after the date, you got hit in the head pretty badly. You were off school for a week and then had half days last week, remember?”

You were silent for a few minutes before giving up and nodding. “Yeah, sorry, I guess I’m not as well enough as I thought.”

He gave you a soft smile as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “Let’s get you to class.”

Sitting in class, you quietly looked through your workbook and checked the dates. She had been in school the entire time; all of your homework was there; all of your classwork was there. So why had Gareth said you hadn’t been? He seemed pretty convinced of it too, giving a whole backstory as to why you were gone, and it didn’t seem like he made it up on the spot either.

It felt like you’d entered an alternate dimension, and everyone had experienced a different past to you. It was like that urban legend of the Man from Taured, and then she’d wake up back in your original dimension and treat all of this as just a bad dream.

Only real life couldn’t be that mysterious.

By lunchtime, you knew you had to confront Eddie. You needed answers, and you were going to get them by any means possible. Arriving in the cafeteria, you saw Eddie at his usual table, laughing and joking around with the other Hellfire members. Taking a deep, you stormed over to him, glaring down at him as you stood beside him. “We need to talk.”

Eddie smiled at you with just that perfect smile, causing your heart to skip a beat and butterflies in your stomach, even if you didn’t want it, you were mad at him. So why couldn’t you stop your cheeks from flushing? “What about, Juliet?”

You sighed, licking your lips as you instantly felt awkward. “You know what this is about, Eddie.”

He took another chip out of the packet and slipped it into his mouth before nodding. “Alright, excuse me gentlemen, my lady has requested an audience.”

The pair of you walked out of the cafeteria and into a store cupboard, closing the door behind you. As soon both of you were alone, you instantly felt tears well up and began to feel a sense of panic. “Eddie, please tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Seeing how distressed you were, he placed a hand on your cheek in an attempt to calm you down. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. It’s all gonna be okay. Just breathe.”

You almost instantly began to calm down, unnaturally so which only seemed to make you panic more internally. “I don’t understand. You were gone for two weeks, but now everyone is saying that you were here the whole time.”

He looked at your face, every strand of your hair, your eyes, the curve of your neck… you looked beautiful even in the poor lighting of the cupboard. He knew what he had to do but in that moment, he knew he couldn’t do it. Instead, he placed a finger under your chin, causing you to look at him. “Sweetheart, I want you to do something for me.”

You nodded; your eyes fixated on his. “What is it?”

“I want you to stay away from me.”

You froze. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me. I want you to stay as far away from me as possible, probably even transfer schools at this point.”

His voice was cold, calculating. You’d never heard him talk like that, and it terrified you. It was like someone else was talking to you, they just looked exactly like her Eddie. Her Eddie. You guessed you couldn’t say that anymore.

Your bottom lip quivered as you fought back tears. “Why?”

“Because you don’t belong here.”

You began hyperventilating, stuttering, and sputtering out your words. “What’re you even talking about? Did something happen that you’re not telling me? Is this about the thing you can’t tell me?”

“Get out. And don't bother me or my friends again.”

You hung your head and nodded, leaving the cupboard, and sprinting down the hallway towards the girl’s bathroom. You ran into a stall and slammed the door behind you, your shaky hands barely able to lock the door before you felt like you were going to hurl.

Then you did.

Once you’d finished, you sat on the cold floor and caught your breath, using some of the toilet paper to dry your tears and wipe your mouth. Staring at the wall of the stall, you felt nothing. You wanted to cry but nothing came out, even after everything that had happened – you just couldn’t cry. You stayed there until the bell rang, signalling the end of lunchbreak and you reluctantly got off the floor and slowly made your way to class.

You sat in the back of the class, trying to distract yourself with the work and block out all the horrible thoughts that had crawled inside your mind and refused to leave. You secretly wished Eddie had never come back, but you knew you didn’t really mean it.

In between classes, you knew you’d bump into Eddie at some point, but you never did. Every time you thought you were going to see each other; Eddie would go in the other direction and take a longer route to his next class. After school, you’d glance across the parking lot at Eddie’s van before being picked up by Jamie.

The next week was the same; Eddie would avoid you like the plague and not even Gareth was able to talk to you, you were completely by yourself. Your older brothers noticed how little you were eating and how it seemed like you were more of a ghost than a person.

Sat in your room, you tried to finish your homework and fight off the tears. Alas, they continued to drop as you tried to wipe away the tears that fell onto the pad of paper in front of you with the sleeve of your hoodie.

Stephen gently knocked on the door before entering, bringing in a chocolate milkshake and some cookies. As soon as he saw you crying, he placed them down and hugged you tightly, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Whatever’s gotten you so upset, you take that bull by the horns and scream in its face until it gets the memo to stop upsetting you, alright?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle a little at your brother’s words as you came out of the hug, wiping away your tears. “You always say that.”

He smiled, rubbing your shoulder. “Because I know you’ll do it. You'll work it out.”

You looked at him and then out the window to see the pouring rain, now knowing what you needed to do. “I’m just gonna go out for a walk, get some air.”

He nodded, tapping the milkshake carton. “Not too late, and be careful, it’s been raining all day. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You gave him a gentle smile before getting up from your desk. “See you in the morning.” You picked up the carton and took a few sips as you jogged downstairs, putting it into the fridge before putting your shoes on and stepping out into the rain.

It was already starting to get dark when you set out, but you knew you needed to confront Eddie one last time. You’d do it at his trailer, therefore he had nowhere to run and nobody to impress. It would just be you and him, and hopefully you’d sort all the nonsense out.

Due to the rain, it took you longer than you wanted to get to the trailer park. As soon as you saw his van parked outside, you sprinted towards Eddie’s trailer with the rain pounding against your skin and almost blinding you, even with your hood up over your head. Jumping over a puddle, you looked up at his trailer to see the back of Chrissy Cunningham going inside, causing you to freeze.

Oh.

That’s why he was avoiding you and wanted you to leave him alone, he didn’t want you to know the truth that he and Chrissy were hooking up – maybe that’s even where he went for two weeks. It would explain the blood, him and Jason probably got into another fight, but it was over Chrissy that time instead of you.

But he seemed to be so into you before he left, he worshipped the ground beneath you. But now he won’t even look at you and the last thing he said to you was that he didn’t want you around. You knew you couldn’t compete with a girl like Chrissy, it was a battle you’d already lost. Everyone loved Chrissy, even you to some degree. While the only person you knew loved you was Gareth, with Eddie clearly wanted nothing more to do with you.

Just as you were about to turn back home, you saw the door of Eddie’s trailer open once more and the pair walking out and go into the woods. Something in the pit of your stomach told you that whatever you were watching, wasn’t right and you needed to follow them.

Making sure to keep your distance, you followed the pair into the woods. In the dusk, you had to be careful not to slip on any branches or wander too close to them, you knew you couldn’t risk being seen.

Eventually, they reached a clearing and joined a group of five or six other people around a campfire. You crouched in some bushes to watch the scene, being extremely careful to keep a hand over your mouth to keep your breathing as quiet as possible, you had no idea what kind of danger you might be in if you got caught.

“I see you’ve brought our next meal,” one spoke up, clearly the leader. He was a tall figure, dressed all in black with dirty blonde hair, although you were too far away to get a proper look at his face. Just by looking at him, you felt extremely unnerved by his presence.

“I have.” Eddie spoke up, pushing Chrissy forward gently until she was closer to the leader. The way Chrissy was walking, you could tell that she wasn’t fully in control of herself.

A few more words were exchanged, but you couldn’t hear or understand much of it. That was until out of nowhere, the leader pounced and suddenly bit into Chrissy’s neck, her body going limp in his arms. There was a loud cracking sound and it appeared all of Chrissy’s bones had been broken all at once. Then, the rest of the group attacked her body and bit into her too.

You let out a silent scream as you watched Chrissy Cunningham die, being almost too scared to move until a tree branch cracked behind you, causing Eddie to turn and look at you. At that point, you hastily got up and ran through the woods back home in the darkness. You stumbled and fell so many times, but you kept running. Your adrenaline was filled to the max as you couldn’t feel any pain. You never stopped running until she was home, and the door was closed and locked behind you.

You sprinted up the stairs to your room and locked the door, collapsing to the floor as you leaned against it. That was when you cried silently into your sleeve, your mind racing as you screwed your eyes shut, trying to erase the images from your mind.

When you opened your eyes again, Eddie was stood in front of you and kneeled down to your level. “Don't scream, I’m not here to hurt you,” he whispered.

You were too stunned to speak, so you just nodded your head as he helped you up before noticing the cuts and bruises all over your legs and hands, he quickly backed away from you and sat in a heap in the corner of your room. “There’s something wrong with me.”

Watching him hesitantly, you licked your lips. “What do you mean there’s something wrong? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?”

“No!” He yelled before screwing up his face and lowering his voice to a whisper. “No hospitals, they’ll take me away.”

You sat on the floor in front of him, tears almost forming in your eyes. “Eddie please tell me what happened that night. The night you disappeared.”

“I was leaving my place to come pick you up, and then I heard something in the woods. I thought it was a dog or a cat or something, so I went to look. I hadn’t even realized how far in the woods I was until I reached a clearing. It gets all fuzzy after that, I just remember being attacked and bitten by someone or something and then waking up I don't know how much later. And I was so thirsty.”

Your face went cold, the horrifying realization of what had happened to Eddie dawning on you. His story and what you’d just watched with Chrissy all making complete sense as to what happened to him, he didn't even need to say it out loud, you knew.

“I went back to my kitchen and drank everything I could grab but nothing could get rid of it… and then my uncle was there. I knew he was talking to me, but I couldn’t hear him, all I could hear was the voice inside me telling me to do it and I couldn’t help it… I had to.”

“And then you came here,” you whispered.

Eddie nodded. "Then I came here, I needed to see you."

You were quiet for a few moments. That explained the blood, at least. But there were still so many questions on her mind. “But why does everyone think you didn't go missing?”

“Because I told them I didn’t, I tried to do it to you too, but I just couldn’t. I didn't want you to live in a lie. But even me telling all of you this puts you in danger. That’s why I tried to get you to stay away, I can’t let you get caught up in this.”

“I’m not going anywhere, no matter how bad things get, I’m always going to be here.”

Eddie gently took your face in his hands, as delicate as a piece of glass, and leaned in and kissed you. Breaking his promise of waiting until their first date to do so, but he couldn’t keep waiting any longer. The kiss was short and sweet and over within a matter of moments, but it was the perfect first kiss.

After a few moments of silence, you spoke up. “So, I guess you’re a vampire now?”

[lycantripuwu]

Session updates!!

Dinner and Ball at Ravenloft, Reek is Dhampir, Mirre has his court case against Anastrasya and wins! Reek is now Reek Uldras. exploration. start of tome heist.

-After hopping into the black carriage and having some trippy statue experiences, we arrive at Ravenloft.

-Rahadin leads us to our rooms and we change into our formals and leave our weapons in the room then travel down to the dining room. Rhil chatting up Rahadin who is actually responding to her now vs the first time they met.

-Strahd is playing her organ alone when we get there. Strahd explains that she dosen't want things to be hostile between us and wanted to personally thank us for the return of St.Andral's bones.

-She states she wants to get to know us better and questions go back and forth. Mirre asking the more serious questions(why does Ireena interest you?) and Rhil being her silly self.(Whats your fav animal?"

-They get on the topic of Dirrak and learns that while Strahd DID drop the body off at his order's doorsteps, she wasn't actually the one who killed Dirrak. Dirrak was found dead on Argynvostholt's steps and Strahd believes Vladimir killed him. Strahd brings up possibly hiring Mirre to "deal with some ghosts" in the future.

-While Strahds interest has been on Mirre most the time during this, she has subtly shown desire towards Rhil. She dosent seem to care too much about Jace.

-the rest of the guests show up, Ludmilla, Escher, Volenta, Anastrasya and Reek.

-We eat and chitchat, Mirre getting Reek to talk to him a little bit, but its clear Reek is terrified of Anastrasya. Though Mirre did get a couple snickers and smirks, showing he wasn't just a mindless spawn.

-We do a toast as we finish up dinner. Anastrasya trying to get Mirre angry tries to make Reek drink blood out of a cup for the toast. Reek ends up dropping the glass, Mirre quickly checking to see if hes alright while Anastrasya yells at him and tries to get another cup. Strahd promptly shuts her down after she caused a scene.

-After checking on Reek, Mirre discovers that Reek felt warm. Before he could investigate further, Anastrasya grabs Reek by the arm and drags him out to where we are having the ball.

-Strahd asks Mirre to stay back while the others left, They talk a bit and Strahd offers Mirre a necklace with a red gem. She tells him he has to keep it on him at all times and cant tell anyone about it. Mirre gets bad vibes from this and turns down her offer, explaining it would rub him the wrong way hiding something from the group, especially as the designated leader of the group. Strahd understands and they both head out to the dance.

High lights from dance:

-Rhil and Jace have their adorable dance first, Mirre and Anastrasya dance too. mostly Anastrasya berating him while he ignores her.

Rhil goes to dance with Rahadin, him actually offering to help show her how to dance. They have a pretty heavy conversation, Rhil gets a lot of backstory regarding the betrayal, the drowning of dusk elf female and children(which he had no part of), They talked about Mother Night and her history.

Rahadin brings up Rhil's black arms and black ear tips and inform her that those mark sinners among their kind and he wont pry, but others may be afraid of her or hate her for them.

tho he praised her heavily for killing the hags.

-Mirre dances with Reek: they have an emotional conversation and Mirre figures that Reek isnt a spawn, but a Dhampir! Anastrasya put some control spell over him when he was reborn and can make him do things.

-Which she does when Mirre goes to hug Reek by having him jab Mirre with a claw. not enough to do some true damage.

Anastrasya and Rhil: after a nat20 deception and manipulation, Anastrasya thinks her and Rhil are buddy buddy and shares some of what she did to Reek and her plans with him. Rhil determines shes batshit crazy. Anastrasya is convinced Strahd's going to let her win the case over Reek and has no evidence and is underprepared.(lucky for Mirre)

Mirre and Escher: Mirre very quickly ends up pissing off Escher, but gets a lot of information on his past party.

Rhil and Cyrus: She dances with him and learns about the abott and abbey, The teachings of lathander sound pretty accurate but determines something is off, her dance ends and she suggests Jace dance with Cyrus. Jace and Rhil agree that something is off and it sounds like the faith is being manipulated.

Mirre and Strahd: Mirre nat20's his performance check and impresses Strahd further, They have a conversation about leadership and how impressed shes been with his talents.

Rhil and Strahd: Some casual chitchat, Strahd gives Rhil a long list of places to check out in Barovia. after they finish their dance Strahd pulls Rhil aside and offers her knowlege of her people, back when cerrunos was a thing. She also brings up that Rhil might be able to get Rahadin to smile. Strahd offers Rhil the same necklace Mirre was offered, Rhil is tempted but turns strahd down for the same reasons of not wanting to hide things from her friends.

Dancing resumes, Mirre having danced with everyone decides to dance with Rahadin.

Rahadin isnt really talkative until Mirre brings up Rhil. When Mirre asks why.

Rahadin says Rhil is kin and that she represents something their people lost long ago "hope", He dosn't want to see that spark snuffed out. Mirre determines its more then that, but dosent press further.

He tells Mirre that Rhil is on a dangerous path and to not let her go into the dark alone, because "That happy smile might not come back out"

Mirre states he will be there with her every step, just like Rhil would be for him. Rahadin approves.

Rahadin warns him to keep Rhil away from Ludmilla and Kasimir, because they will lead her to ruin. Even says that being a bride to Strahd might be a fate Rhil wont want.

for the rest of the dance, Rhil tells Rahadin some fun stories about Rhil and the silly things shes done. Rahadin listening intently to every word.

Volenta harrassed and unnerved everyone she danced with haha

Ludmilla and Mirre, They talked a bit and Ludmilla seems very interested in Mirre and his abilities. hinting at a possible alliance. Ludmilla didnt show any interest in Jace and said Rhil reminded her of Patrina but that's about it.

The dance ended and we moved to the audience hall to begin the case for guardian ship of Reek.

Mirre and Anastrasya stood in front of Strahd and gave their statements. Mirre provided his evidence and eye witnesses.

Anastrasya brought up that we originally stole the children from the hags(which we did) and Rahadin was brought up as a witness.

Rahadin actually stood up for us, saying he didn't even see us there nor was there evidence.

Anastrasya pressed further and Strahd was upset, feeling like Anastrasya was claiming that Rahadin was lying.

Anastrasya quickly dropped the point.

Mirre had written eye witness reports from 4 different people, Verified by Baroness Fiona Wachter herself. Also letters from Anastrasya that he held onto.

Mirre and Anastrasya debated back and forth, Mirre making good points and Anastrasya seemed to ramble.

Anastrasya pulled out the dagger Mirre gave Reek, claiming it was unsafe for a child. Mirre admitted that was reckless of him and owned up to his mistake. Strahd held onto the dagger at the throne.

we close our statements

Strahd did a whole "Bachelor handing off the rose" type thing but with Reeks dagger.

MIRRE WON!! Strahd also enchanted the dagger for Reek as an adoption gift, stating that Reek will be known as Reek Uldras.

The dm did this arguement with points. If you had a good point and good arguement, you got a point. if you lost an arguement, you lost a a point.

Mirre ended up with 10pts and Anastrasya ended up with 6

Lots of cheering from the party and after the consorts/brides left.

Strahd congratulated Mirre and gave us permission to wander the castle minus a few places.

after some emotional moments with Reek and Mirre. We set off to hunt down Strahd's tome.