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retrievablememories · 6 months

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cherry bomb | part 2 | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: after your town goes into lockdown because of the cherry bomb massacre, you find out that the murderer's interest is on you. eventually, you’re left with no choice but to face him.

genre: horror/slasher, angst, smut, college!au

word count: 13.7k

warnings: major character deaths, gaslighting, hallucinations, anxiety/paranoia, grief, trauma, violence (including knife and gun use), torture, blood, gore, descriptions of dead bodies, a funeral scene, fuckboy!JK, oral (fem receiving), fingering, finger-sucking, handjob, cumplay(?), hair-pulling

a/n: this part is quite rougher than the first, so heed the warnings. same notes as the last part—not meant to be entirely realistic since this *is* a slasher. block/filter as needed. i didn’t mention this in part 1 but this fic is not set in present day; more like somewhere in the 2000s? i don’t think this fic would work as well with all this advanced technology/the prevalence of social media now

...also, i had this story all written out and then decided to completely change the plot at the last minute because i figured out a way to write the original plot i had wanted to do from the beginning. 💀 yeah…just leave your thoughts below

taglist is at the very bottom of the fic—for some reason i wasn't able to tag everyone who requested, so please reblog this fic so folks can see it

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 1

you’re standing in front of some stranger’s house in the early hours of the morning, your body heavy from exhaustion as your adrenaline has run out. this is not at all how you expected your night to end when you left your dorm hours ago. it must’ve taken at least 40 minutes to get to this house, and you’re less familiar with this part of town, which you try not to feel uneasy about. you suppose the farther away from the scene of the carnage, the better.

jungkook bangs on the door, calling out the name yoongi-hyung until the porch light comes on. though it’s illogical, you’re tense with apprehension that the murderer could somehow appear at any moment, and you hope whoever yoongi is lets the both of you in soon. so much for no longer looking over your shoulder.

a man with hair just as long as jungkook’s answers the door, looking disheveled and annoyed. “why the fuck are you banging down my door at nearly 2 am—"

yoongi stops speaking as he eyes the both of you up and down, his gaze going from the bite mark bruises you left on jungkook’s neck to the dried blood on your face to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. his expression is between surprise and curiosity. “what the fuck is going on here?”

“can we talk inside?” jungkook says, though he doesn’t wait for an invitation before pushing his way past the other man and stepping inside.

“uh…hi. sorry.” you step inside too, glad to not be out in the open anymore.

yoongi takes another look outside the door at the state of jungkook’s car before closing and locking it. “mind explaining this shit? i thought you were going to that party you told me about?

“i did,” jungkook says, his voice full of frustration. “the fucking killer showed up at the party.”

“the fuck are you talking about?”

“you know what i’m talking about. that werewolf-masked freak? he came and just started stabbing people to death. we watched him shoot a fraternity member in front of us, dude. that’s why my car looks the way it does.”

“the campus is probably dangerous,” you add. “that’s why we came here. we just need somewhere safe to stay for the night.”

yoongi goes to the window and draws back the curtain. he peeks out the small holes in the side of the blinds rather than pushing the blinds down to look outside. “and you’re certain he didn’t follow you here? i thought he only killed virgins anyway. why the hell was he shooting at you?” then yoongi turns away from the window and looks at you. “oh. is this why?”

feeling put on the spot, you blurt out: “look, i don’t think that matters much anymore. he seemed to be killing anybody who was in his way.”

“and he was on foot the whole time, so there’s no way he could’ve followed us,” jungkook adds.

yoongi shakes his head and walks away from the window. “whole town is fucked, then. come on.”

you’re relieved to be able to scrub the blood off your face and change into fresh clothes. you initially thought it was peculiar that yoongi had spare clothes ready for you to wear until he alluded to keeping them on hand for any of jungkook’s hookups that he brings over.

“sure—of course.” you’d just nodded and tried not to look embarrassed as you accepted the clothes.

even after showering you don’t feel entirely clean, though. you think it might be impossible to return to feeling anything like your former self after tonight.

the couch has a pull-out bed, so it’s not as uncomfortable as it would be just sleeping on a regular sofa, which you are grateful for. you’re still arranging the pillow and blankets when jungkook walks into the room holding his own bedding.

“i think i should sleep here,” he says.

“there’s no room on the couch for the both of us,” you protest, thinking he means to take your spot.

“i mean on the floor. earlier, you didn’t seem like you wanted to be left alone in here.”

“oh.” you try to take the edge out of your voice; it’s hard to be polite when you’re still so overwhelmed with stress. “that’ll be uncomfortable though.”

jungkook just waves his hand and dumps his pillow and blanket on the floor before going to push the coffee table out of the way. “doesn’t really matter, i think we’ve been through worse tonight than sleeping on a hard floor…”

“thanks,” you say quietly, watching him spread his blanket out on the ground. you want to say something else, but you can’t think of anything.

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

after a few more moments of staring at jungkook as he arranges his sleeping area, you finally ask, “i was wondering how’d you meet yoongi? he doesn’t seem like he’s a college student. i’ve never seen him around our campus, at least.”

“he isn’t. he works as a music producer, so he’s out of town a lot, but this is his homebase. as for how we met—it’s a long story. he and my brother actually used to know each other, so…” you think he’ll explain further, but he just shakes his head. “but he’s a good friend.”

“i see. a music producer…nice. how cool for a little town like this.”

after everything is to his liking, jungkook gets under the blanket. “tonight was a lot, so try to get some sleep.”

you nod and turn the lamp off, though you’re doubting you’ll get any peace tonight. “yeah…you too.”

SATURDAY MORNING, NOV 4

you wake up around 11 a.m. on a strange couch wearing strange clothes in a strange room. with your brain’s half-conscious state, your terror reawakens; you think maybe you’ve been kidnapped by the murderer and the car ride with jungkook last night was a dream—until yoongi pops into your mind.

you try to regulate your breathing and settle back beneath the blanket, though you know you won’t be going back to sleep.

you haven’t gotten more than an hour of sleep in total, broken up into 20-minute intervals across the hours. every time you’ve tried to close your eyes and drift off, you see the frat member’s skull bursting apart again, shocking your entire nervous system. you can think of nothing but the piles of bodies and the deaths you witnessed. perhaps it’s better that you don’t sleep; you figure your dreams wouldn’t be any more tolerable than your thoughts.

as you shift around on the couch, your whole body screams with soreness. your arms, your ribs, your sides, your legs, and—to a lesser extent—even between your thighs where jungkook was last night.

you glance over and see that he’s still sprawled on the floor, blanket halfway kicked off. he’s actually awake, his face turned away from you as he blinks slowly and stares at nothing, but he doesn’t say anything and so neither do you. with you spending most of your night awake, you saw that he was able to get more rest than you did. lucky him.

it hurts to move, but you reach for your phone and check for any signs of lorelai. none. there is one text from camille, sent 40 minutes ago.

➤ camille: I talked to Lorelai’s sister. She went to go see about a missing persons report. The police took her information but didn’t seem very concerned about it and said she might have just stayed the night with other friends after the party. Apparently a lot of others had the same idea as you. Campus is a ghost town. They’re still identifying all the bodies, so no word yet.

➤ y/n: so we just have to sit here and wait to see if she’ll turn up alive or dead? that’s useless.

➤ camille: As per fucking usual with the pigs.

➤ camille: She also told me there’s supposed to be a lockdown or something. It’s on the news.

➤ y/n: a lockdown???

looking around the room, you spot the TV remote sitting on yoongi’s coffee table a few feet away. you try to sit up, but it takes you a couple minutes longer than you anticipate because of the pain. jungkook notices the movement from the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. “what are you doing?”

“tryna get the remote.”

jungkook grabs it and hands it to you, and you turn the TV to one of the local news channels.

➤ camille: They’re telling people not to leave their homes for anything non-essential while they search for him. Not sure how long that’s supposed to last. I guess now they wanna get serious about this fucking killer? Too late for that.

you and jungkook watch as the newscaster gives a rundown of last night’s events; to your small relief, it looks like the killer didn’t try to go to the campus after the murders at the party house. the newscaster goes on to announce that the police are instating a citywide curfew, which they’ll discuss further at a press conference in the afternoon. in the meantime, they advise everyone to only travel in groups, shelter in place if possible, and keep all windows and doors locked.

you laugh humorlessly, and jungkook glances at you again. “in groups? we were all packed into one damn house at the party, and how much did that help?”

➤ y/n: are you sure you’re okay at the uni?

➤ camille: I’m fine. My roommate brought some of her friends into our room so no one’s left alone. Either way, my dad is coming to help me move some of my things out and come back home.

➤ y/n: okay, please just stay safe.

➤ camille: You too.

“what now?” jungkook says once the newscast goes off. “everybody just stays holed up for like a month while they hunt for that guy?”

you roll your eyes. “people won’t stay in their homes for that long. i don’t know how any of this is gonna work. we wouldn’t be in this mess now if they’d cared when this first started happening.”

“you think so? students would still be getting killed. the only difference is that a good chunk of people would just be sitting at home freaking the fuck out and too scared to go anywhere while the killer would still be on the loose.”

“…damn. it’s truly bleak to assume we’d still be in the same situation. you’re an optimistic one.”

“better than deluding yourself about it.”

“whatever. where’s your family to freak out over you? somebody should be concerned about your whereabouts by now. didn’t you say you have a brother? speaking of, i’m gonna have to call my sister soon…”

jungkook turns back to the TV, and you can tell he’s become more tense than he was seconds ago. “yeah, but i’m estranged from them. yoongi’s my family.”

wrong thing to ask. you wonder about the reason for it but decide it’s probably better not to pry. “ah…that sucks.”

jungkook looks back at you like he’s irked by that response, but he makes a noise resembling a chuckle. “tell me about it.”

later that afternoon, after you’ve reassured your sister veronica on her work break that you are fine and at a “friend’s” house (because you have no clue how to refer to either of these men), you and yoongi sit at the kitchen table with brunch while jungkook goes outside to examine the damage to his car more closely.

it’s difficult to eat, but you do so anyway; you don’t want to be rude by wasting the food yoongi made. the news station still plays loudly from the living room as you wait for the press conference to come on.

“so, about you and jungkook...” yoongi starts, looking at you from over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“what about me and jungkook?”

“we both know he didn’t get those bites on his neck from a wild animal attack.”

you sit up straighter in your seat, a sudden spike of irritation hitting you. “aren’t we all grown here? who cares?” you try to sound unbothered despite feeling very green about all of this. after all, you’d only had sex for the first time last night.

“look, i don’t care. fuck him all you want. i’m just trying to advise you not to get emotionally involved, because that’s not how jungkook operates. the amount of girls i’ve had somehow coming after my neck when their situationship with him doesn’t work out is starting to get really old. it’d be best if you didn’t do the same.”

you’re simultaneously annoyed at his assumption of you and flustered because you want to prove him wrong about acting the same as the other girls. you hate both feelings. “i don’t want anything like that with him. i just needed something done and i got it. it doesn’t matter anymore.”

yoongi shrugs, and you get the sense he’s heard that before and isn’t convinced, but you can’t be bothered going back and forth with him about this.

the press conference comes on TV a few minutes later. they announce that classes at your university are cancelled indefinitely; parents and relatives will need to come move their students out, and the school will be operating with a skeleton staff and increased security presence for any students who can’t leave the campus. the citywide curfew will be at 8 p.m. every night, by which time almost everyone will need to be in their homes, and it will end at 6 a.m each morning.

“fun,” you say sarcastically. “at least i won’t have to worry about finals and trying not to get murdered at the same time.”

when jungkook comes back inside, you let him know about what he missed from the press conference.

“we should just stay here for now.” when you raise your eyebrows, jungkook says, “i basically live here when i’m not on campus for classes. plus yoongi-hyung lets me bring girls here all the time, this is nothing new.”

“if both of you are gonna be hiding out in my place, we’ll need to go to the store,” yoongi says. “more mouths to feed.”

“…or i could just go home?” you propose, your mind reeling at them already making plans. you feel awkward about staying in a stranger’s house for who knows how long. “i think we only really needed to stay here for the night. it’s fine.”

“will you have people there with you?” jungkook asks. “it’s not safe to be alone.”

you’re surprised he seems to be this concerned, but you answer: “well, i mean…my sister works 12-hour shifts as a nurse and she’s the only one living there, so…” you’d chosen your university because your older sister lived in the area, and because it was a tradition for women in your family to attend that school, but there were no other relatives you could turn to. your parents lived a couple of towns away.

yoongi comes to the conclusion so you don’t have to. “in other words, you’ll be alone most of the day.”

“…i guess. but i’m really not tryna impose on you by staying here.”

yoongi tilts his head, a small smirk on his lips. you automatically dislike the look on his face. “why don’t you take jungkook with you, then?”

you and jungkook glance at each other. “but, hyung…”

yoongi shakes his head. “you already know i can take care of myself. seriously, don’t worry about it.” and then yoongi winks at you. you don’t know for sure, but you take that to mean he’s probably packing heat like camille’s dad.

“if you’re sure.” turning to you, jungkook says, “so, how about it?”

“it’s my sister’s house, so i’ll have to ask her,” you say tentatively. “yeah…uh. let me do that now, i guess.” you pull out your phone to text her about it, though you know it’ll be a while before she gets another work break and can answer. “in the meantime…i think we’ll need to go to the store either way. and then to campus to pick our things up.”

“you’re right. let’s go then,” jungkook says.

the store is full of people panic-buying food and necessities in preparation for the curfew and effective lockdown, which you expected. you and jungkook end up going your separate ways to find the things you need because it’s quicker that way, and because you want to get in and out of the store as soon as possible. the crowdedness is too much like the party, and despite yourself, anxiety begins rising in you due to the claustrophobic atmosphere. you try to maintain even breaths as you keep searching for items. just what you need—a shiny new trauma to make your life harder.

you pass by a man in one of the less-crowded aisles before realizing he’s standing in front of what you need to get, examining one of the food packages. you wait a few moments to see if he’ll finish up soon, and when your eyes begin to wander, you see that there’s a long gray hair clinging to the back of his leather jacket, standing out clearly against the black. you probably wouldn’t have noticed this at all on any other day, except your mind has been on high alert for hours now; you find it strange that this strand clearly doesn’t match the shade or length of the hair on his head, which is short and plain brown. the shade of the hair also weirdly reminds you of something, though you can’t quite recall what; it remains just out of your mind’s reach.

you shake your head. he could’ve come to the store with somebody who has long gray hair, or hugged them before he left home, and a strand stuck to his jacket. it’s the least of your issues right now.

the man must feel your presence behind him because he turns around to look at you. you’re a little taken aback by his gaze; his expression isn’t mean per se, but very intense, as if his entire focus is trained on you.

there’s a second’s pause, like he’s thinking about something before he speaks. “am i in your way?” he asks, never breaking eye contact. his voice doesn’t portray any particular emotion.

“i just have to get something really quick.” he steps aside and gestures to the rows of food without a word. you slip in beside him and grab what you need before moving away again. “thanks.” you think about telling him about the hair on his jacket but decide against it; your decision is solidified when you spot a wolf figurine keychain on his keys, faded from time but still distinguishable. it makes your breath catch.

there’s no way it could be him. it was kind of dark in the party house with nothing but string lights and lamps illuminating it, and everything happened so quickly…but you do remember the colors of that mask. red, yellow, black—and that dark gray for the fur.

but maybe it’s really all just a coincidence; how much sense would it make to turn every person with wolf paraphernalia and random stray hairs into a suspect?

you walk down the rest of the aisle and away from the man with growing unease. maybe it’s time to find jungkook so you can get out of here; you can hardly keep yourself together, and despite your best attempts at logic, you can’t stop yourself from getting more frantic about those two things.

speeding up your walk and weaving through people, you look down every aisle in search for jungkook before you find him, rushing over to him as you breathe heavily.

“whoa, what the hell is wrong? did somebody do something?”

“no, i…”

“what happened?”

“it’s the…well, the…i saw, uh…”

“y/n.”

“i saw—the mask. the fur from the mask. do you remember it?”

“…you mean that stupid ass werewolf mask?” you gesture for jungkook to lower his voice. “wait, you’re saying you saw it in here?”

“no, i saw a man who had a strand of hair on his jacket…” it starts sounding ridiculous to your own ears the more you speak, but you continue. “the strand—it was the same color as that fur. the same length! and he—he had some weird wolf keychain…”

jungkook stares at you for a long moment before sighing. “you’re not serious? a random strand of hair that could be from anybody or anything? that could be from someone’s fucking grandma for all we know. plus a keychain…maybe he just likes wolves, y/n.”

you already know that saying i just feel like something is off won’t be enough to convince him. you sigh with a deep sense of defeat, considering that he’s probably right. maybe your initial assumption was the more sensible answer. “…right. i think i’m just really fucked up right now after everything that happened. can we finish up here?”

“yeah, we will. because you definitely need to lay down soon or something. you haven’t had any sleep all night, right?” the way jungkook eyes you with concern as if you’ve lost your mind annoys you. you’re about to give a smart remark when you notice something in the carrying-basket he has.

“…a baseball bat?”

“if the killer comes after us again, duh. we’ll be prepared this time. or at least i will.”

“good luck with that if he happens to have another gun.” rolling your eyes, you brush past jungkook to go to one of the checkout counters.

in the parking lot, you see that the man from earlier has also come out and is putting the last of his grocery bags into his car trunk. there’s really nothing spectacular about his appearance that would make him stand out in a crowd, with his average height and average looks, let alone incriminate him as a serial killer. yet that familiar unease won’t leave.

he sees you and jungkook walking towards the car together, and his eyes dart to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. then he makes eye contact with you. you give a half-hearted wave, unsure what else to do with his eyes stuck on you. for a moment, his lips turn up into the faintest smile before he shakes his head and gets into his own car.

MONDAY, NOV 6

you’ve spent half of saturday and all of sunday trying to get used to living in your sister’s house with jungkook. veronica had been surprisingly okay with having him stay over, though most of it was her being relieved you finally found “a potential boyfriend who’s actually cute.” you didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

you’ve also been constantly checking on camille (to her eventual annoyance) and seeing if there are any more updates on lorelai. still nothing. your dread grows the further away you get from that bloody friday, but you try to keep your thoughts from straying too darkly.

right now, you, veronica, and jungkook all sit on the couch together in a neat little row, a bowl of popcorn in front of you on the coffee table and some science-fiction B-movie playing on the TV. your sister proposed the idea to distract yourselves from everything going on, but so far, you feel like it isn’t very effective. at least not for you. your mind keeps wandering to other things every 5 minutes.

eventually, veronica yawns widely, stretching her arms and legs before rising off the couch. “okay, i’m getting tired as fuck. i need to go to sleep for work tomorrow anyway. you guys enjoy the rest of the movie, okay?” she pats your shoulder as she passes by you on her way out of the room.

jungkook waves. “oh, sure. goodnight.”

“night, sis.”

when jungkook’s attention goes back to the movie, your sister makes eye contact with you and points her finger at you menacingly. you give her a shocked look while she mouths you know what i mean and swirls her finger in jungkook’s direction. embarrassed at the implication, you roll your eyes and turn your head back to the TV screen. having sex with jungkook on your sister’s couch is not high on your list of priorities tonight.

after your sister is gone, jungkook spreads out on the couch like it’s his own living room, placing his legs right over your lap. you sigh, looking over at him—and hoping that your eyes don’t linger too obviously on the expanse of thigh muscle that’s now on display from his shorts riding up higher.

“…really? i don’t want your big ole legs in my lap.”

jungkook just grins. “you should lay down too, it’s more comfortable this way.” you stare at him, and he tries to egg you on by pulling the sleeve of your shirt. “come on.”

“i’m not laying down on top of you, if that’s what you’re after.”

you do end up lying down, but on the opposite side of the couch so that your legs are tangled together, which really just increases the amount of contact between you either way—but whatever.

this makes jungkook laugh more. “ha, it’s like we’re scissoring.”

“so damn corny.”

you two continue watching the rest of the movie, but by the end of it you don’t remember half of what happened. taking the remote, you flip through the channels and try to find something else to look at. there isn’t much interesting to watch on a random monday night—which would be a school night anyway, if not for the current context.

as you search for a channel, jungkook asks: “what would you do if you found out who the killer was?”

you squint your eyes at his odd question. maybe the obvious answer would be to alert the police. but after days of having your anger stoked like a fire, that’s not exactly the answer you’d choose. “maybe i’d kill him.” the words leave your lips easily, and you hardly think twice about them once they’re out.

neither of you speak for a few long moments.

“does that scare you?” you ask, after the silence starts annoying you. you want to laugh, but there’s nothing really funny about the situation.

“…not really. angry women are kinda sexy. so are dangerous ones.”

you scoff. “i’m not tryna be sexy, you fool. and how many dangerous women have you dealt with? seems to me you only have a thing for the innocents.”

“it’s not like i only fuck virgins. you don’t even know me like that.” he nudges your leg with his foot like he’s also annoyed, but his expression doesn’t show any actual irritation.

“…if you want to go back and forth about it, go outside and argue with the wall or something. i’m in no mood, jungkook.” you shove his foot off of you. “just, holy shit. i wish i could have just one hour where i don’t have to think about any of this shit. my mind can’t even breathe.”

he’s actually quiet for a couple minutes after. you think he’s moved on from the conversation until he finally says, “i can give you an hour.”

your body becomes alert at that. the insinuation in his tone is obvious. you glance backwards as if your sister could hear you from upstairs, though you know that’s illogical. “i got what i wanted from you already,” you whisper.

“so? what if i wanted to give you more? you know you’re allowed to have sex with a person more than once, yeah?” he chuckles.

here he is making you this offer, and once again you feel like you’ve been reduced to the state of a confused lamb in front of a hungry wolf. you realize that the idea of letting yourself get more physically entangled with jungkook scares you. he is not someone you can turn into a boyfriend, who wants to be a boyfriend, and you are only looking to save yourself from any potential hurt. “it would just be sex—right? you have to know i’m not looking for anything deeper from you.”

jungkook smirks. like with yoongi, you don’t know if he believes you. “i know.”

you want to undo almost everything from the past few days. you can’t forget, but for a while, you want to just exist outside of the timeline where there’s a killer on the loose and one of your friends is missing. it’s too much to handle; your body is approaching its limits for the amount of stress it can take. you need a balm to numb the pain and the fear, and you dislike that you are giving into your base instincts to do so. you feel guilty, somehow. but pleasure is easy. at least it has been whenever you sought it on your own—and now you have someone else to give it to you. someone who is in front of you now, proposing it with all the willingness in the world. maybe there’s really nothing wrong with saying yes.

“jungkook…”

“hm?”

“please just shut the fuck up and don’t say another word about the outside world right now. i don’t want to think about anything but your…” you falter, still trying to get used to expressing what you want sexually.

jungkook sits up, his hands sliding up your legs and to your hips. “but my what?”

“um, your…” your thoughts end when he leans down and pulls the hem of your sweater up, planting a kiss on your waist where your skin meets the waistband of your sweatpants. one kiss turns into a second, and a third. the fourth becomes an open-mouthed embrace of his lips on your skin, and you make a small noise of pleasure when his tongue gets involved.

“careful. don’t want veronica to come down here, remember?”

you huff. “that isn’t happening any time soon, believe me.”

his kisses continue as he begins to slide your sweatpants down, revealing the waistband of your panties. once they’re fully on display, he leans forward to nuzzle his face between your thighs, his mouth and nose pressing into the seat of your underwear. his actions take you off guard. you actually give a brief chuckle from surprise, though you are also somewhat embarrassed. “now what the hell are you doing?”

“let me savor my meal before i eat it.” his warm breaths tickle your inner thighs as he speaks.

“ugh, don’t turn me off.”

“that’s funny, because i seem to have an easy time getting you wet.” to prove it, his fingers press into the seat of your underwear to feel the wetness that’s seeped into them; you sigh from the brief pleasure his fingers’ movements afford you before he pulls them away.

jungkook drags your panties down next, his lips trailing down your lower abdomen and across the curls of hair covering your pubic mound. your body fills with anticipation at the gradual pace of his actions and the purposeful, wet caresses of his mouth.

when he uses his thumbs to press your lower lips apart and expose you more fully to him, you have half a mind to be self-conscious about it until he places his mouth on you in earnest.

jungkook eats like someone who hasn’t done so in a while and doesn’t know when he’ll get to do it again. his mouth sucks at your clit like he’s desperate for you to come, tongue rolling over the swollen nub in an unrelenting pattern that has your stomach tensing, and you quickly realize you do have to try to silence yourself even if you know it won’t wake veronica up. you twist your hands into the sleeves of your sweater and lean your head back on the couch’s armrest as you arch your hips up closer to jungkook’s face, uncaring about how vulnerable you feel completely offering yourself up to him like this; right now, all you want is to feel good.

“gonna come quick again? maybe we can set a new record?” jungkook pins your knee against the couch with his elbow to keep your legs open as he slides two fingers inside, diving straight in instead of working you up this time. your body breaks out in a sweat and you know you really won’t last long once he does this, the tips of his fingers aiming for that dreadful, wonderful, and overpowering place inside you. you don’t know how people do this—you feel like you’re going to die when he stimulates that spot, and all you want to do is scream even though you can’t.

“a r-record? fuck off…” you choke out, though you begin to rock your hips into the rhythm of his fingers, needing so badly for him to take you over the edge again.

he chuckles. “i don’t think you want me to fuck off right now.”

you have no words for a good comeback when he buries his head between your legs and slurps at your pussy again and crooks his fingers repeatedly to where your orgasm is unexpectedly rushing down upon you, causing your body to tense as you gasp and stifle any sounds that escape with your sweater sleeve.

jungkook doesn’t stop there and you don’t really expect him to, because you’re beginning to learn he isn’t a one-and-done type of man. he keeps sucking and stroking you right into another releasewhile you push the beanie off his head, fist your fingers into his strands, and tremble over the sight of his pitch-black mess of hair between your thighs. something about the visual is so appealing to you.

after he has made you come for the third time, you watch him sit up on his knees to reach into his shorts and pull his dick out, his darkened tip slick with precum. his long hair falls into his face as he glances downward, using the hand he’d been fingering you with to lube himself up with your cum.

“come here,” you tell him, your voice coming out sharper than you intended; but he doesn’t care, because he follows your request without a word and presses himself into your side. the couch is just big enough to accommodate both of you in this position, but it’s still a tight fit, and your bodies are once again tangled together.

“let me touch you,” you say, your palm pressed to his stomach, feeling the firmness of the muscle.

he raises his eyebrows, like you didn’t even need to ask. “of course.”

“no, i mean…” he realizes what you actually mean as you brush his hand away from his shaft and wrap your fingers around it instead.

“should i teach you how?” jungkook brings his hand to overlap yours, though his breath becomes a bit strained when you slide your hand to the base of his cock and back to the tip again, the pads of your fingers rubbing over the sensitive head. seeing your fingers around him turns him on more than he thought it could, and it’s just a simple fucking handjob.

you roll your eyes. “stroking a dickshouldn’t be that hard.”

“everyone likes it differently, though. fast, slow, soft, or rough…just the tip, or the whole shaft.” you can’t deny that—or the way you find yourself throbbing at his words, his voice husky from the pleasure. which is why you let jungkook close his hand more fully around yours and guide your movements.

it’s captivating to observe his reactions from your hand on his skin—the heavy breaths he lets out and the soft moans and even softer whimpers that come in between the exhales. whenever you squeeze his shaft more firmly or rub your thumb against his leaking tip, you find yourself grinning at the rise and fall of his chest and the tongue that darts out of his mouth to lick at his lips. but mostly, your eyes are drawn back to the sight of your hand working him over, his thighs and stomach tensing sporadically.

eventually, you both look away from your joined hands and at each other’s faces. your eyes dart to his lips and back to his gaze again, and you shift your face forward to signal your desire for a kiss. he meets you there by pressing his lips to yours, and it isn’t hard for him to get lost in the meeting of your mouths and the heat from your palm on his shaft.

your free hand returns to his soft hair to tug on it as your tongues slide against each other. he grunts at the burn of his roots being pulled but doesn’t stop you; on the contrary, his body responds favorably as more precum swells from his tip and his nipples poke against the material of his shirt.

“do you like that, jungkook?” you mumble against his mouth.

“you know i do.” at some point, his hand falls away and he lets you stroke him on your own.

jungkook gives a shuddering moan into your mouth when he climaxes minutes later, thick streams of his cum shooting onto his shirt and dripping down your hand. he tries to keep quiet and doesn’t entirely succeed, but it doesn’t much matter.

you squeeze the few remaining drops of cum from his cockhead, trying to make sure you don’t grip hard enough to actually hurt him. you pull your sticky hand away from jungkook when you think he’s finally emptied, but he grabs your wrist and you look at him questioningly. you watch with shocked eyes as jungkook brings your hand up and takes your messy fingers into his mouth, sucking his cum from them. you know instinctively it isn’t the first time he’s done this—not with the look of pure satisfaction on his features as he licks his own seed off your fingers.

his enthusiastic pleasure is part of the reason why you accept when jungkook gives you a crushing kiss, passing his cum from his tongue to yours. you don’t know what you expected it to taste like, but it isn’t gross like you’ve heard others complain about when sharing their sex tales; despite being salty, the overall taste is neutral. still, it takes some getting used to.

when you pull away from each other, noses brushing and lips wet from each other’s spit, you look into his dark brown eyes and get the sudden desire to say something that’s been buried in the back of your mind for days now.

“why did you come straight to me that night?” you whisper. “like you already knew who you were there for.”

jungkook stares back, his lips curving up slightly. “i just wanted to. or i wanted you, more specifically.”

“that’s not an answer.”

“well, it’s my answer.”

“was i another one to knock off your list?”

“you think i have a list?”

“i’m not stupid. it’s not unusual for guys to have a list. plus, plenty of rumors go around.”

jungkook taps his fingers underneath your chin and kisses you on the lips again, though it is brief. “stop believing everything you hear.”

you clearly won’t be getting a straight answer from him tonight. with the moment broken, you sigh and begin pulling your bottoms back on. “…whatever you say, dude.” once you’re dressed, you climb over his body to get off the couch. you poke him in the chest as your eyes roam over him in his disheveled state, his shorts pulled down and his cum staining his black shirt. “might wanna clean yourself up, huh? i’m going to sleep. and, yeah…thanks for the distraction.”

TUESDAY, NOV 7

with the weather being as cold as it is and heading toward winter in another month or so, lorelai is surprised by how quickly the bodies began to smell.

she doesn’t know much of anything about bodily decomposition—because, to her parents’ disappointment, she wasn’t about to be a biology major and have to be around cadavers in a dissection lab—but if this were a movie or something, she would’ve thought it would take longer than just one day. the smell started to hit her the saturday after the party.

but ultimately, this isn’t a movie, and the fact that she’s trapped in a decrepit house in some remote part of town is her present reality.

she doesn’t remember anything about how she got to this house; she thinks she must have been concussed before she was brought here. her head has been hurting badly for days, and not even the simple relief of a painkiller is available.

what she does know is that she’s being kept in a dirty living room on an equally dirty mattress, her hands and legs tied by rope and zip-ties. if there were any miniscule chance of her escaping, it would be impossible to go anywhere considering both her ankles are broken, only adding to the amount of physical pain she’s been in for days.

the living room is mostly empty except for the bodies of some other students from the party, which have been scattered around the room. lorelai tries not to look at them—especially not at the ones she knows—but it’s difficult. they become even more terrifying to her when night falls, turning into dark, rotting shadows in the corners of the room. there has been nothing but the company of these corpses for days, and a couple of visits from the killer.

he's never once taken off his wolf mask or his gloves, and every other part of his body stays covered in all black. she doesn’t have the first idea of what he looks like underneath it all. he has spoken to her a few times, but the voice isn’t one she recognizes. his words when she first awoke inside this house still knock around in her mind, filling her with dread.

he’d crouched in front of her, watching her move around on the mattress and try to orient herself. he had the casual air of someone observing a flipped-up bug struggle on the sidewalk before crushing it underfoot. “you aren’t y/n, but you’ll do for now. we’ll have some real fun later on. you’ll help me give her a good scare.”

“how the fuck do you know y/n?” lorelai had struggled against her restraints, but this only made her newly broken ankles hurt worse. tears began to fall from her eyes from the pain and fear.

the killer had said nothing to that—only tilted his head curiously and stared at her, which was unnerving even if she couldn’t see his eyes.

“you have no fucking reason to go after her, she’s not even a virgin anymore you dumb fuck—” with those words, the killer had backhanded her, sending her already injured head into a fresh wave of agony.

“things would’ve been different if not for that fucking party. you students think you’re so fucking clever, yeah? and look how you paid for it.” it was impossible to see any facial expression, but his body language spoke of anger. “no matter, though. virgin or not, i’ll see this through to the end.”

now it’s yet another morning, and he has returned. he has a lot of debris in his hands—stuff like sticks and dry moss and foliage. he’s also carrying a small bag, the contents of it a mystery. everything he does causes alarm for lorelai, but now confusion joins in.

“ready to have some fun?” he asks. with duct tape over her mouth, she can’t answer back. she watches as he arranges the debris on the ground in front of her, her anxiety mounting as he takes a lighter out of his pocket and sets fire to the foliage.

leaning forward, he rips part of the duct tape away from her mouth with his gloved hand, causing her face to sting. “got anything to say?”

“wh-what the fuck are you doing?”

“i’m gonna stoke a nice fire here…get this knife hot enough to hurt.” he brings out his knife then, and lorelai shrinks away from the blade as he drags the flat of it across her throat—but there’s nowhere else to go, as she’s sitting up against the wall. “then i’ll just cut this pretty little body up a bit. the finishing touch…i think i’ll slice your throat open. how does that sound?” he takes the knife away from her neck to hold the blade over the flames.

lorelai’s breath hitches, and her stomach begins to physically hurt from the outpouring of anxiety flowing through her. she starts to sob, trying to speak through the tears and snot and drool. the only question she can muster up is, “wh-why?”

“this is for y/n—remember? i hope that concussion hasn’t fucked with your memory.” the killer watches the reflection of the flames on the blade as it grows hotter. “and…i’m doing someone a favor.” he doesn’t wait for her to speak again before putting the duct tape back in place over her mouth, leaving her to cry to herself and face her rising distress as he heats the knife until it’s burning hot. internally, she wishes there was any way in the world to get out of this situation.

it isn’t much longer before he’s finished. lorelai screams as he approaches her with the knife, and then at the feeling of the red-hot blade scorching her skin, though the sounds are stifled by the duct tape.

“now, be still while i fix you up.”

WEDNESDAY, NOV 8

you go outside that afternoon to check the mail and have an excuse to get out of the house; it doesn’t matter if it’s only for a few moments. you’re not used to staying cooped up in one place for so long with absolutely nothing to do, and you feel like you’re not too far off from going mad with cabin fever. it hasn’t even been a week since everything happened.

you open the mailbox, and there are the usual bills along with something strange: a blank envelope with no return address. even your sister’s address isn’t written on it. flipping it over, you see that the envelope was never sealed. someone must’ve just come up and put it inside the mailbox. but who the hell would do that, and for what reason? whenever any of your neighbors have something to give you or your sister, they come straight up to the house to do it.

inside the envelope is a set of polaroids. their content makes you drop the rest of the mail. your legs grow weak, and you end up sitting down hard on the end of the driveway, some of the polaroids slipping from your hands. the pictures show the bodies of some of the students from your university, their corpses posed in odd positions and some bare of clothing—all dead.

you struggle to breathe as you frantically flip through the rest of the pictures. in the center of all the group photos is lorelai, her neck torn open and her wrists and ankles tied. she’s still dressed the way she was the night of the party, though her dress is stained with dark brown blood. there are open cuts all over her bare skin, their appearance rough-looking and uneven as if they’ve been cauterized.

there are several group polaroids, several of lorelai alone, and several angles of the outside of a house, which must be the same one the bodies are being kept in. one photo of lorelai slips out of your shaking hands, and you see there’s barely legible handwriting on the back of it, which reads, “this is just the teaser, y/n.”

you scream and don’t stop screaming until jungkook comes running out of the house holding the baseball bat, as if the killer might’ve gotten bold enough to attack in daylight. a couple of your neighbors peek out of their houses and make their way over with concern on their faces once they see you sitting on the ground, your exclamations ringing through the street.

there’s a disarrayed group of people around you grabbing at your shoulders and asking what’s wrong, what happened, and then gasps and exclamations of shock when they see the polaroids. you feel yourself being pulled to your feet and then lifted up—maybe it’s jungkook, because it smells like him—but you’re too disoriented to make proper sense of anything right now. you can only think of how much time has been wasted, and how little time lorelai actually had left.

SUNDAY, NOV 12

in the main lobby of the funeral home, you sit in a chair next to camille, staring into empty space while the other girl tries to cry as quietly as she can. she cries as if she’s ashamed of it, and you wish you could comfort her, but you don’t know what to say or do. for the past few days, you’ve mostly just felt numb.

you’re waiting for veronica to come back out so you can leave, as she’d stayed behind after the service to talk to lorelai’s family for a little longer.

lorelai’s family had opted to have her cremated after seeing the state of her body. a lot of other families did the same after the events of cherry bomb, not even wanting to entertain the idea of a closed-casket funeral. you can understand their feelings about it if you push through the haze in your mind to consider it for long enough. though the morticians have done the best they can over the past week, sometimes knowing that your loved one has multiple stab wounds and eviscerated organs beneath all the makeup and fancy clothing is too much to handle.

when veronica finally comes out, the three of you walk outside to join the rest of the people who’ve started getting in their cars. some still linger in small huddles, shaking their heads and wiping their faces.

jungkook, who’d driven you and veronica to the memorial, waits outside for you all, leaning on the side of the building. you both thought it was probably better for him not to attend the service considering lorelai was never fond of him and he didn’t know her that well.

“is it finished?” he asks.

“it is.” veronica sighs. “god, funerals are so damn…bleak.”

you notice a man waving at your group from the other side of the parking lot and realize it’s camille’s dad. her posture straightens when she catches sight of him, and she hurriedly tries to wipe the rest of her tears before shoving her tissue into her pocket. “i-i think my dad is waiting for me. i…i’ll see you guys later, alright?”

“okay, camille.” the strange absence of emotion that you’ve been trapped in for the past few days suddenly cracks open when you notice camille’s anxious demeanor as she speed-walks away from the rest of you. intense sorrow overtakes you; you don’t want her to leave, but she has to go.

you are crying before you fully understand what’s happening. veronica puts her arms around you and squeezes you against the side of her body. jungkook reaches a thumb up to wipe away your tears, though you don’t let him get very far before turning your head away and into veronica’s shoulder.

“y/n…”

“how am i supposed to go on?” you exclaim, catching the attention of a few people nearby. “the police said maybe she’s just staying with friends. and now look. plus, the killer knows where me and my sister live now…maybe he always knew.”

“we don’t even have a clue who the killer is…” jungkook mumbles. “there’s no one you know of who might have a grudge against you?”

“no, jungkook. the police already gave me all that questioning. and it doesn’t help me feel any better to think maybe all these deaths are somehow my fault.” you scoff.

“y/n, nothing’s your fault because some freak decided to go around killing people; that was his decision.” jungkook argues.

you nod slightly to his words but say nothing else, not wanting to go further into that topic. you don’t know if you can believe him about that.

the parking lot is emptying out now, so you try to pull yourself together so the three of you can leave. “well…you don’t need to keep staying with us if you don’t want to. we have those assigned bodyguards now, so…” you glance in the direction of one other car sitting beside jungkook’s—inside it are two men the police force appointed after the polaroids of the bodies were planted in your sister’s mailbox.

jungkook looks at you as if he’s trying to gauge your expression; he himself looks surprised, though he attempts to play it off. veronica glances between you both, recognizing the awkward shift in the air.

“you don’t want me there anymore? i mean it is your house—” he glances at veronica “—so that’s fine with me if—"

“what? i didn’t say i don’t want you there, neither did veronica, it’s just if you don’t want to be there—"

“i never said i didn’t want to be there, though?”

you both become quiet, jungkook looking at you and you returning his gaze for a few seconds before looking off to the side. veronica is still standing between you both like she’d rather be anywhere else on earth.

“i just figured that maybe…” why are you being so concerned about me? isn’t this the part where we go our separate ways? is what you really want to ask. you have seen and learned enough from your friends’ and even your acquaintances’ experiences to realize that any other one night stand would not have cared so much. that’s how these things go, right? but he isn’t really a one night stand anymore, either.

you don’t even know if you’re considered friends with benefits, but what would that change? you’d still seen others tossed aside without much thought by their FWBs while in times of need. considering his history, you don’t understand why jungkook isn’t following the same template now, and you don’t think you should ask why for fear of breaking the illusion.

fed up with your own confusion, you decide now isn’t the time to lament on your lack of knowledge about these things. “nevermind. that’s fine. so you’ll stay?”

the corner of his mouth lifts in a brief smile. “i’ll stay as long as you won’t try to kick me out.”

you aren’t in the mood to attempt to smile back, but he seems to understand that. “right, well...good.”

“…now that you two have figured that shit out, can we leave?”

FRIDAY, NOV 17

jungkook thought that getting outside a bit more would help you feel better and prevent you from developing a complete fear of leaving the house, which is why you’re sitting in this claustrophobic little diner now with him, yoongi, and camille—and of course, your ever-present bodyguards in the booth behind you all. but this outing isn’t doing anything to mitigate your fears.

nearly 10 minutes in, you have to ask jungkook to switch seats with you so you’re not on the outside of the booth, as you’re afraid that it’s too easy-access if anyone—say, the killer, though you’ve been trying not to think so obsessively about him—were to come in and start stabbing you to death right where you sit. being on the inside calms you for a little while until you become anxious about the window beside you; what if he has a gun again and simply shoots through the glass? all he’d have to do is stand on the sidewalk and aim, his werewolf mask laughing at you with its eternally frozen growling expression, and your brains would be all over the table just like that frat guy’s.

your meal sits half-eaten as you get increasingly lost in your anxieties. the others are talking about something, but you can’t hear what. it’s like some of your senses have shut down or begun working incorrectly. the strawberry sauce in camille’s sundae looks too much like blood and even smells like it from the occasional whiffs you get, and you find yourself staring at the sundae dish and wanting to throw it across the restaurant.

jungkook’s hand touches you on the back, and the tension in your body increases. he feels it and draws away, though he keeps trying to meet your eyes. “are you okay?” he whispers.

“why ask that? she obviously isn’t,” yoongi says, like he’s annoyed with the obviousness of jungkook’s question.

“hyung, i’m just trying to help.”

“it was your great idea to come out here when she didn’t want to, though.”

“y/n—” camille starts.

“can’t you throw that out? it smells like blood.” your mouth feels useless and hard to maneuver, but you manage to say those words.

“what?”

“the…that. that thing.” everyone looks at camille’s melting sundae. yoongi raises his eyebrows.

“blood?”

“do you mean it—looks like blood?” jungkook suggests.

you raise your voice in irritation, not understanding how everyone else is unable to perceive the same scent that you do. “no, i-it does, but it smells like blood too! just get rid of it!”

one of the waitresses comes over to the table. “is everything okay over here?”

“um, we’re fine! i’m finished with this though.” camille hurriedly hands the sundae off to her, trying to keep the situation calm.

“oh, well—the rest of you too? that’ll be it, then?” she gathers everyone’s plates and leaves with a smile that attempts to be cordial but is still colored with unease.

her departure leaves a stiff silence in which you all spare glances at each other but try to avoid directly meeting eyes. camille is the first to break it.

“i’ll ask my dad if i can stay over with you,” she suggests. she suddenly sounds much more tired. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow slightly at her words; yoongi silently glances at the younger man. “just, you know…maybe the extra company would help? he’s been treating me like a kid again, but we should be safe with the bodyguards there, so…”

“you don’t have to do that,” you say, though you’re too exhausted to truly argue.

“you’re in shambles, y/n. and it’s not just for your benefit. i’m feeling pretty fucking alone right now, and it’s hard for my dad to understand the emotional side of it, so…” camille plays with her fingers and doesn’t look at anyone as she speaks; you know talking about her father can be a sore spot for her sometimes. “uh, anyway. not to trauma-dump or anything. just let me do this.”

you sigh. “fine…okay. do whatever you have to. can we just leave?”

as you’re all walking outside, jungkook pulls you aside.

“i still worry about you after that incident at the store, you know?” he admits.

you shrug his hand off your arm and glare at him. “you think i’m crazy.”

“i don’t. i just want you to be able to relax and not feel like you’re being hunted 24/7. i don’t think the killer is constantly waiting around the nearest corner for you, y/n.”

“you don’t know how close the killer could be. he knows where i go to sleep at night. so stop the bullshit, jungkook.”

“you’ll be okay. you have me, remember? i protected you that night…i can do it again.”

you examine his face for a long moment and find that you are too overwhelmed with stress and fear to be moved by his words. “i’d like to trust you…but the killer might just murder you too. then who’ll save me?” you don’t wait for his response before walking away to catch up with the other two.

LYING IN WAIT...

it’s strange to see the police bodyguards in veronica’s driveway and backyard everyday. it’s not the same two all day—they switch off so that there are two doing a day shift and two doing a night shift.

the security team at the hospital where your sister works is aware of the situation, so you try not to get too worried about her safety when she’s away from the house—but it’s difficult.

there have been no more kills connected to your university since lorelai. it seems like half the town has forgotten their fears and tried to go back to some sense of normalcy while the other half still hides away and lives in perpetual panic, including you. the former group of people has started muddying the waters for the police, with some teenagers getting brave enough to sneak around in wolf masks and vandalize buildings with red-lettered virgin graffiti just to fuck with the cops. there have even been a few people who turned themselves in claiming to be the killer—only their supposed confessions never matched the details of the case.

reporters have tried to hound lorelai’s family and your family several times for any speculations or answers on the killer’s identity, but none of you are willing to spread misinformation just to give them something to write about. however, that hasn’t stopped other residents of your town from sharing their speculations and even implicating their own relatives or neighbors—whether as a fucked-up joke or as genuine revenge just depends on whoever’s speaking. with all of these false leads, the police are still no closer to finding the killer than they’d initially been.

everyday feels like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, though the chances of any more kills are starting to seem improbable; the university is practically empty. but it doesn’t matter to you if the school is nearly deserted, because the killer has his aims set on you now, and you only wish you knew why.

up in your room, you and camille sit on your bed gazing out the window—the window that must always remain locked now, for fear of unwanted ingress. you’ve never been uncomfortable in your sister’s house, but lately you’ve been feeling like you’re boxed in with every wall pressing towards you.

sitting up from your lying-down position, you have to find the appropriate words for a moment before speaking. “camille—i can’t stop feeling like maybe we aren’t entirely safe,” you murmur.

camille raises her eyebrows. “why not? those guys stay outside all day, and we keep everything locked up day and night. literally, the only time the front door opens is for veronica to leave and come back from work everyday.”

“i don’t know. there’s no particular reason for it…it just seems like we’re waiting for something.”

“…yeah? for the killer to be caught.”

“but he’s made no moves recently. you remember the policeman’s daughter, right? i even texted her and she hasn’t heard anything new that we don’t already know. seems like things have slowed down at the police station. it’s not like that abandoned house was in the killer’s name or anything, so what leads would they have?”

camille frowns and rubs her eyes like something’s in them, but when she looks at you directly, you see her eyes are red from unshed tears. “…i want things to be okay, though. i’m tired of living like this. you know how i had to beg just to get my dad to let me leave the house. he’s constantly on edge.” you feel even more unsettled to see camille so distressed lately, as she’s always been the only one able to pull something funny out of a terrible situation—something enough to distract you from the horrors. “all i know is they’ll have to dig his ass out of some hole in the ground at some point. he can’t hide in this town forever.”

“yeah…i guess you’re right.” you still don’t feel reassured, but you don’t voice your doubts.

WEDNESDAY, NOV 22

“i think i might go mad,” camille says from her position on the armchair, her limbs splayed haphazardly across it and one hand stuck in a bag of chips.

you sigh. “you’re the one who wanted to watch this thanksgiving movie marathon.”

“the most mid holiday of the season,” jungkook adds.

“no one cares what either of you think, thanks.” it isn’t long before the program is over and the ending credits are rolling. with an exaggerated exhale, camille gets up from the chair and crunches the bag of chips in her hand. “i’m going to your room, y/n. you two just do whatever it is you do down here, since you hate my movie choices so much!”

“means we can finally turn the channel.” jungkook snatches the remote off the coffee table and does just that.

camille goes into the kitchen to throw out the chip bag and wash her hands. your focus returns to the TV. a few seconds later, you hear the upstairs flooring creak above the noise of the water pouring from the tap.

“what’s up, sis? i thought you were sleeping.” veronica is known to be a deep sleeper, so it’s not common for her to be getting up in the middle of the night. there’s no answer to your question. you glance upstairs, but your sister isn’t standing there; she isn’t standing at all, instead being carried by someone wearing an all-too familiar mask.

you scream as the killer tosses your sister over the stair railing. her torso has been sliced open from collarbone to navel, her body leaving a large splatter of blood on the floor where she lands. jungkook jumps to his feet but is momentarily immobilized as he gazes at your sister’s body crumpled on the floor. you slide off the couch and crawl over to her, still crying out, but there’s no life left to try and salvage.

the screaming brings camille rushing to the kitchen doorway. she can barely vocalize what’s wrong? before spotting veronica’s body and stopping in her tracks. in a moment that feels like it takes forever to pass, the killer pulls a gun from his waistband—you recognize it as one of the guns the policemen carry and realize he must’ve killed the bodyguard posted in the backyard—and shoots her in the chest twice.

“camille!” when you go over to where she’s lying on the ground, she is still alive but bleeding intensely and struggling to breathe. your knees slip in the blood that begins pooling around her. “shit, camille…p-please don’t die…” you press your hand against the wounds, but they’re bleeding so much that your efforts don’t help, and the pressure of your hand causes her more pain.

there’s the sound of a gunshot at the front door as the lock is blown off, and the door is banged open a few seconds later by the remaining bodyguard. he has virtually no time to fire off another shot before the killer is shooting him in the head first.

the killer throws the gun aside, taking his knife in his other hand and making his way down the stairs. “your sister left her window cracked open. i waited for days for a slip-up like that. see how much harm can come from a simple mistake? well, she was collateral damage anyway.”

even in your panic, it’s as if all your bodily functions freeze when you recognize the familiarity of the killer’s voice. camille reacts with a rattling gasp, but her body is becoming too weak for her to utter anything; all she can do is watch as the man stops at the bottom of the stairs and pulls his mask off.

“yoongi…” your voice breaks as you try to speak again, but nothing coherent comes out.

he drops the mask on the floor and brushes a hand through his hair. “i guess you weren’t expecting that. good. we kept it up ‘til the end.”

your lips form around the word we, but your vocal cords won’t cooperate. you twist around to look at jungkook, who is still standing by the couch.

the man who you’d gotten too close to for your own good and done so many firsts with, who’d promised you that he’d protect you and was even there for you on the day of lorelai’s memorial, looks at you now with eyes glowing from the thrill as his mouth twitches into a smile—small at first but growing into a full grin. “i almost can’t believe we staged all that shit and it actually worked. you really believed it all, y/n.

not all of those kills were hyung’s, of course...there’s no way i’d miss out on the best parts. you don’t know what it’s like until you kill a person for the first time. crashing cherry bomb was his idea, though. and lorelai was mine. that bitch would’ve kept you away from me, and i needed her gone for this kill to work.”

through tears, you finally muster up the strength to ask, “wh-why have you done this? that night…y-you mean to tell me none of that was real? being shot at—why would you—” your voice rises until you’re shouting. “you-you’ve killed so many people. what was the purpose?!”

jungkook’s smile fades somewhat as he pretends to think about it, acting like he’s reminiscing on wistful memories. “i realized that killing and fucking aren’t that different, y/n. the real ecstasy of it is in taking someone pure…and doing something to them that has never been done before, and can never be done again. there’s a certain eroticism in killing someone, stabbing them, entering them…it’s like sex in the most profane sense.”

“you’re disgusting,” you mutter, glaring at him through your tears. you can’t help but feel shame to think of the times you’d had sex with him. had he simply been imagining murdering you during those moments? it makes you want to throw up.

yoongi steps closer until he’s right in front of you and camille. “and as for me…i just enjoy it. practice really does make perfect. you wouldn’t believe how entertaining it can be to see someone beg for their life.” his lips turn upwards in a dark smile resembling jungkook’s. “but instead of raging at us, i think you have bigger matters to be concerned with.” yoongi gestures his knife hand to camille, and when you look down at her body, you realize she’s no longer moving.

you lift camille’s head up with your hands as if that could make her return your gaze, though you can find no sign of breathing or pulse. “god, no…” you scream in frustration, your hands slipping in her blood. you check once more and again for any signs of life, because there is just no possible way this could’ve happened, but there are none present. “please—i’m sorry…”

“time’s up.” yoongi grabs your arm and yanks you away from camille, jostling you to try to get you on your feet. you flail around in his grip, fruitlessly scratching at his arms that are covered by his thick jacket, before managing to elbow him in the groin with your frantic movements. “shit!” this causes him to loosen his grip, which is enough for you to scramble away from him, slipping in the blood as you go.

you make it to the other side of the room where the officer lies facedown—though there isn’t much left of his face from yoongi’s shot. you snatch the gun from the dead officer’s hand and point it in the direction of both men. the safety is already off; all you’d have to do is pull the trigger and kill either one of them right now. before you can act, yoongi uses his free hand to pull another gun from his waistband—his own.

“as i said before, i know how to take care of myself,” he says, flicking the safety off and aiming for you, though his stance shows he’s still in pain. “please don’t assume it’ll be that easy. do you even know how to shoot a gun?”

you and yoongi are at an impasse as you both point your guns at each other, jungkook looking on with casual amusement coloring his face. “fuck you,” you spit out. you remain hesitant to fire on him, knowing that even if you succeed, he could fatally shoot you at the same time.

“let’s not do it this way,” yoongi says, his voice low and soft in an attempt to be persuasive, though you just find it disturbing. “you were supposed to be a clean kill. a few stabs and it’d all be over. i’ll even let jungkook do it, since you seem to like each other so much. do you really want to be shot down like a dog like camille over there?”

“you and him can both fry in hell!” you shout.

yoongi glances over at jungkook. they both nod before yoongi hands the knife to him, and the younger man takes a few steps in your direction. you don’t know whether to point the gun at him or keep it trained on yoongi; your head is pounding with a headache that you’ve only just realized you have. “don’t come over here. stay away from me!”

you press your back to the wall as jungkook comes closer, inching towards your right side with his knife at the ready. you slide away from him as you keep your back against the wall. “hand it over, y/n. it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“hand it over and let you kill me? are you insane? you lied to me this whole time, you fucking piece of shit.”

jungkook scoffs and looks at yoongi as if to say can you believe this? “why wouldn’t i lie to you? you were always meant to die.”

he won’t stop coming towards you, and you’re running out of room to slide away from him. you grasp for anything to try to reason with him, though you know it’s futile. “you realize that if you kill me now and you conveniently survive, everyone will know it’s you? you’ve been living here for weeks, you jackass!”

“hyung and i have that covered. it’s not for you to worry about, considering you won’t be worrying about anything soon.”

jungkook lunges for you with the knife, thinking he can catch you off guard and overpower you. you scream and pull the trigger in your frenzied state of mind, shooting yoongi. the next few things seem to happen almost simultaneously:

you hear the crash of yoongi’s body hitting the TV stand and the TV falling to the floor.

you feel jungkook’s knife piercing your shoulder, causing you to fire a stray round into the wall from the unexpected burst of pain.

you hear another gunshot that’s not from you; you see and feel jungkook stumble into you, the knife sliding from his fingers and to the floor.

you realize that he’s been shot when his hand flies to the bullet wound on his lower back; he’d been standing in front of you, and yoongi meant to hit you, not him.

“jungkook!” yoongi’s shout is furious and regretful as he steadies himself on the TV stand.

trying to push the pain into the back of your mind, you clumsily grasp jungkook’s fallen knife and run for the stairs. more shots follow you and most of them miss but one, which strikes you in the thigh. while you cling to the stair railing and try to regain your footing, you are suddenly staring mortality in the face and understanding with a freezing-cold clarity that you will die right now if you don’t do something.

your nervous system vibrates with fear and adrenaline as you tighten your grip on the police officer’s gun and shoot yoongi with it twice—in the same area he’d shot camille.

these last two bullets finish him off immediately. you don’t think it’s fair, with how camille suffered and bled and died in your arms. for a moment, you’re so outraged that you wish he’d come back to life so that you could kill him again. you’re torn from these thoughts by jungkook.

“you bitch…he was my only family after everyone else threw me away. do you understand? i’ll fucking kill you!” jungkook is nearly writhing in the ground from his upset and from the hurt of his injury; it frightens you that this same man is someone you once thought you could grow fond of.

you aim the gun for jungkook next, but the chamber is empty. either way, he currently has no weapon, which leaves you with a small chance to get away before he re-arms himself. throwing the gun away, you stagger up the rest of the steps while his screams continue echoing up to you.

you give no thought to the blood trail you’re leaving behind as you rush to veronica’s room and to the window yoongi had entered through. you begin squeezing yourself through, keeping your grip on your knife all the while, but your injuries make it difficult to move. a few more tears slip out as you try to balance your injured leg on the tree branch beneath the window, and the desperation of wanting to give up clings to you.

you hear jungkook’s heavy and limping footsteps coming up the stairs, and you attempt to hurry, but you’re only halfway out of the window. when he crashes into the room, it’s unnervingly easy for him to grab your arm and yank your body back through the window, uncaring of how you get scraped up in the process.

he jams you up against the nightstand with one of the kitchen knives to your neck to stop your movements; his harsh maneuver causes the objects on the nightstand to rattle. the nightstand’s edge digs into the backs of your thighs, the pressure causing your wounded thigh to hurt more.

“you want to know why i picked you?” jungkook hisses, the knife’s blade stinging your throat as it begins to break skin. “you were just another choice out of many, but i decided you’d be the first one that i’d fuck and kill.”

it’s painful to hear, but it angers you at the same time. “fuck you!” in your rage, you spit in his eyes. jungkook jerks back and the knife shifts from its previous position at your neck; you take those few seconds to grasp the alarm clock off the nightstand and crash it against his head.

“shit—!” he cries out, stumbling and grasping the side of his head. he tries to grab for you again, but you jump onto the bed and crawl away from him, your stomach lurching at all of veronica’s blood soaked into the sheets. you spot a small decorative glass bowl on the dresser—the one filled with little candies that you’d always teased veronica for, saying she was so much like a grandma handing out treats to her grandchildren. when your feet touch the ground again, you clasp your hand around it like it’s a lifeline and fling it at jungkook’s head as hard as you can, just as he makes it around the bed to your side. the shards cut his face when it breaks, slowing him down further as he grabs his slashed and bleeding face. one of his eyes is blinded from the blood and glass.

this will probably be your only chance while he’s struggling to gather himself. you rush towards him with the knife handle tight in both of your hands and drive the blade into the middle of his chest, putting all your strength into that movement—just as his own knife impales your abdomen.

you are both simultaneously struck from the shock of being stabbed, and it takes you a few long moments to piece your mind back together as the pain radiates throughout your body. jungkook groans when you shift the knife around in his wound as you pull it out, letting his blood flow out freely. his breaths become wet and rattling as he chokes on his own blood, the red fluid staining his mouth and dripping down to his neck. he jams his knife further into your wound in retaliation so that the handle is flush against your body, causing your head to spin.

“i-if i die, i’m taking you w-with me.” jungkook gasps with his remaining effort. his body starts to sag from its standing position as he weakens, his hand slipping from the knife handle. he loosely grasps the comforter with one hand as he collapses to his knees, his torso becoming soaked with blood and his head bleeding from your earlier hits.

you drop your knife and lean against the bed too, shifting your body to find a position that could lessen the pain, but it’s impossible with a knife lodged in your abdomen. you know enough to understand that you’ll bleed out faster if you remove it, though, so you resist the urge. “you can rot in hell alone, jungkook.” you watch him struggle for what feels like minutes before his breaths stop altogether and his body slumps to the floor. he is just a blur of clothes and blood through your tears. you’ve never felt so lonely in your life.

you have a thought to call 911, but you’re becoming more and more lightheaded from the blood loss, and you can already hear sirens approaching on your street. you figure one of your neighbors must’ve called after hearing the gunshots; perhaps the bodyguard sent for backup before he was shot. your rescue has come much later than you would’ve preferred—or maybe everything just happened much faster than it seemed. you can’t tell anymore.

you can’t tell anymore, and you no longer want to look at the carnage around you, and nothing makes any sense. so, you close your eyes to it all; and when you feel someone lifting you in their arms—this sensation is so familiar—and maneuvering you onto a stretcher, you allow yourself to relent to it and empty your mind of everything.

@ihatemen55 @cottoncandyclouds-stuff @yunhofingers @heybabesposts @twilight-loveer @whipwhoops @mrsminho @junecat18 @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @okayiamkassandra @witchbitxhxx @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @thaiika @goldentea10 @iloverubberduckiez-blog @katie-tibo @ohsweetmimosa @dream-cvtcher @hoseokteardrop @lpgirl2324 @vanillacupcakefrosting @gukiemochi @jkslaugh97 @ahgasegotarmy116 @jeonjklibs @bangtans-momma @screamertannie @kenzietaetae @han-nah-banana @00frenchfries00 @taiwan0618 @laurynne5 @monvante @ynisthatyou @thiccthighs19 @jeonwiixard

#jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fic #bts smut #bts x you #bts x reader #black reader #x black reader #x black fem reader #black fem reader #fem reader #female reader

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szasfuckingwife · 10 months

Text

CANDY

TOJI FUSHIGURO x FEM!READER + MEGUMI

WARNINGS: FLUFF, megumi is a kid, megumi initially doesn’t like y/n, cute ending

A/n: i love kid megumi he’s SO CUTE omds

“Gumi!” You jumped as you saw the small dark haired boy on the way back to Toji’s bedroom.

You and Toji had been dating for a mere seven months and things were going great. I mean, not every relationship makes it this far- especially when one of you has a child.

When you met Megumi, you were surprised on how quiet he was. Most five year olds run up and down the walls all while screaming the house down but Megumi appreciated silence. Where the other kids were playing outside in the sun, drenching themselves with water, Megumi liked to draw that very scene but just from inside.

Toji always thought it was a little strange but never questioned it. He thought that this was what he gets for giving his mother hell when he was a child. The first thing Toji told you about his son was, ‘Well…he’s different from most kids.’

You knew that Megumi’s mother had passed and those shoes were unimaginably huge shoes to fill. So, you took your time with him. You rarely stayed the night, you only took him out on the weekends, you tried to elongate your conversations the more you spoke. Not only did you want a relationship with the child, but you didn’t want to give him the wrong idea that you were his mother’s replacement.

But the kid seemingly wasn’t a fan.

So, when you bump into him in the dimly lit hallway, you’re scared shitless.

“Gumi, what are you doing up?!”, you nervously chuckle. The child looks blankly at you, as if he thinks you’re the dumbest person to ever walk. “It’s far too late, you should be asleep.”

“Why are you here so late?” He asks, his voice was monotone. You chuckle again nervously, wishing Toji could wake up right now and try to explain things to his son.

You tightened your lips, “Ah…well…you see-”

However, your voice left you when Megumi walked away. You stood there in shock. Was it something you said? Was he mad that you were there when normally you’d be gone?

Deciding it’s best not to leave a child on his won at night, you follow him. It’s hard to see anything due it being night and nothing is lit up. But you figure that Megumi must have night vision or something due to the speed in which he walked.

You heard the back door open and every single fear came to mind. Immediately, you run to the door, panic laced in your every movement. Your brows furrow in the dark, trying to spot him.

“Megumi!” You yell.

But just then, you hear a tiny ‘shh!’ come from beneath you.

When you look down, you’re met with a sight that warms your heart.

Megumi strokes the head of one of the two dogs on his lap. You see the plate of hot dogs resting beside him with a glass of milk. The dogs looked comfortable in Megumi’s arms, you could’ve swore you saw the dark one nuzzle into his touch.

“You’re being too loud!” Megumi whispered.

You found the courage to sit next to Megumi, even though this was the first time you and him have ever been together without Toji. “So…what do you have there?”

“Dogs.” He answers.

He’s witty, like his father.

You chuckle slightly, “Who’s their owner?”

Megumi shakes his head and sighs. “They don’t have an owner. Or a mama.”

In regret of your question, you look away. “Their mama must’ve been a good mama. They’re good boys. They listen, they’re calm. Well…sometimes. They bark at me if I don’t give them my toys to chew on.”

Your heart aches for the boy. Having to grow up without a mother must’ve been tough, not only for Toji but for him too. Toji has confided in you how tough not having Megumi’s mother around can be.

There are some things you just need your mom for.

“But I love them. They’re kind.” He says. “They always come when dad’s asleep. We always play fetch and hide and seek together. But today, I think they’re just tired.”

You find yourself smiling at Megumi. He’s extremely mature for his age. “I think my dad knows about them. He always says the ‘sh’ word when they poo in the garden.”

Megumi’s comment humours you, since you have heard the very same ‘sh’ word leave Toji’s mouth when he finds presents left by the dogs.

“Are you my new mama?” He asked you, finally looking directly at you. His question was scary. There was no right answer to give.

Do you say yes and let Megumi think that you want both him and his father to forget the existence of his mother? Or do you say no and let Megumi think that you don’t want to have him as a son?

“Megumi…I’m whatever you want me to be.” You reply. “Whether it’s a stranger, a friend, dads girlfriend, or someone that helps you look after the dogs at midnight.”

He looks at you attentively, “But all I know is that you are an amazing kid. And I’d be a lucky woman to have you as a son. I’m sure your dad agrees.”

“I know dad likes you a lot.” You nod. “And auntie Maki likes you.” You nod again, chuckling.

“I think my mama would like you.”

Tears sting your eyes as you look at him lovingly. For such a young boy, he’s so open and beautiful with his feelings. “I think I’d like her too.”

You see him nod and stand up, struggling to hold both dogs.

“Where ya going?”

“They’re stinky. I’m going to give them a bath.”

You are again left behind as Megumi walks away with unrealistic speed. A chuckle leaves your lips as you get up and chase after him, shouting out, “Wait for me..”

Toji’s in the car, driving you home with his son in the backseat. Again, Toji yelled out an expletive when he saw the poo left behind by the dogs. You remember Megumi smiling at you as Toji began to clean it up.

Toji finally pulls up as he reaches your apartment. He gets out first and you’re reminded that Toji would never let you open your own door if he’s around.

You get out of the car as Toji opens the door. You stare up at the raven haired man, noticing all the details him and his son share.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” He hugs you tightly, kissing your cheek in the meanwhile. You nod at him before kissing his scarred lips.

You wave to Megumi through the window, surprised when he actually waves back. “You see that? He’s starting to like me!”

Toji smiled at your amusement, giving you one more parting kiss. There was a sense of pride with seeing both his girlfriend and son starting that bond. If he’s ever done any wrong, Megumi and you are those little things that he got right.

As Toji got back in the car, Megumi sighed deeply before clearing his throat.

“Got somethin’ to say, lil man?” Toji looks at him through the rear mirror.

The boy nods, “I like Y/N.”

Mentally, Toji is screaming, jumping for joy as fireworks explode. But, in front of his son, he saves face, giving a small hum as a response.

“I like her too.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #toji fluff #jujutsu kaisen toji #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #megumi fluff

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mochinomnoms · 6 months

Note

Hi hi friend,

If it is not too much trouble I would like to make a request for your event? I think I would like Floyd with prompt 14- “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!”

They/them for Yuu is fine with me, I was thinking romantic? Where maybe it's obvious to everyone but Yuu how requited their feelings are.

I've really liked reading your writing and hope you continue to have fun doing it (♡°▽°♡)

floyd leech x gn!reader [tags] – fluff, mutual pining [wc} – 3,659 prompt 14: “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!” note - hahahahahhahahahahaha i did not mean to write so much but i went a little buckwild and i think floyd deserves to be allowed to be soft sometimes a floral inconvenience

Lavender roses - Introduced in 1900, lavender roses represent love at first sight. They’re often given to someone to convey that the giver was immediately smitten and fell in love.

You’d decided to attend a karaoke event the Mostro Lounge was hosting to introduce the new spring menu. It was meant to be a nice, relaxing hangout with your friends from Heartslaybul as you listened to your friends attempt to show off their mediocre singing skills.

Ace was in an especially good mood, happy to tease you as you waved happily at Floyd, who’d returned your affections.

“Oi, oi, oiiiiiii, Prefect? When you gonna say something? Kinda tired of dealing with you puking petals every—OW!”

You snorted as Deuce smacked Ace upside the head, muttering about him being an asshole.

“Leave them alone Ace, unless you want to be collared for harassing a member of the student body?” Riddle reprimanded, giving Ace a harsh glare as he turned to you instead.

“You can ignore him, Prefect, you don’t have to say anything to that good-for-nothing merman! I’m sure you could do much better anyways.”

You chuckled, enjoying the soft banter between the group. It was particularly nice seeing Riddle interact more casually with his peers, even if you weren’t able to convince him to sing with you.

“Are you sure you do want to go up with me?” You pouted leaning in close to the red-headed housewarden. “I’ll even let you pick the song—”

“Out of the question.”

You sighed, resting against the plush cushions of the booth while Ace and Deuce bicker about which song would be better for a duet. This was nice.

It was nice, up until Floyd decided to take part in the festivities. Somehow he’d snuck behind you and Riddle, snatching up your friend with a gleeful cackle as he screeched.

“FLOYD! PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT—”

“Nah, it’s fine Goldfishie, I need ya for just a sec!”

Floyd placed Riddle in a seat, front and center at the stage, as he climbed up. The cool blue spotlight suited Floyd’s features as he grinned.

Picking up the mic from its stand, Floyd announced, “Alright! This song is for my favorite little fishie in the whole entire school, so you all better enjoy it!”

You expected him to start singing a silly pop song, one with high energy and beats. Or one that became a meme on Magicam last week, something about flamingos and turning pink.

Instead, the upbeat, suave tunes of a familiar song started playing. A familiar love song.

“Is…is this ABBA?”

“Who?” Cater asked, recording the scene with a stifling giggle as Riddle turned redder and redder in embarrassment (and most likely rage) as Floyd continued to serenade him.

“This is ‘Lay Your Love’ by BABA, a classic from the 80s—”

“No it’s called ABBA back home—wait, WHY IS FLOYD SINGING A LOVE SONG TO RIDDLE!?”

Your screech startled the surrounding tables, drawing attention that you were too jealous to focus on. Floyd made eye contact with you, hearing your yelling. Continuing to sing—quite nicely you’d hate to admit—the eel mer winked and smirked, drawing an ire that you didn’t know you had.

“What the hell? Floyd!” With the vindication of a scorned lover, you stomped to the stage and swiped the microphone from Floyd’s hands.

“Floyd, what are you doing?” you spoke into the mic, glaring daggers at the tall beanpole of an eel turned man, who looked unbothered at your angry presence.

Floyd took the mic back and answered, “I’m trying to win my mate back—DON’T GO WASTING—”

“What mate?” You yanked the mic back while Floyd followed suit, though this time you kept both hands on. It became a tugging match as you both tried speaking into the mic before the other took it back.

“Goldfishie.” You could hear Riddle scream at that.

“Riddle’s not your mate! I’m your mate—” You snapped your mouth shut, the mic feedback and your last words echoing through the lounge, mocking you.

Floyd had a large, smug grin on his face, his sharp teeth gleaming under the bright lights of the stage. You were now very aware of the packed lounge, and of the students spectating.

The mic was slowly pulled back to Floyd, who gleefully asked “Oh~ Say that again?”

“Nuh-uh.”

You shook your head furiously, trying to pull back in order to run off and curl into a hole from embarrassment. Floyd’s grip on the mic and your hands tightened, preventing your escape.

“That’s fiiine,” Floyd pulled out a small device from his pocket, lightly tapping it on the mic. “I have it riiiight ‘ere.”

Suddenly, a recording of your voice looped into the mic:

“I’m your mate—I’m your mate—I’m your mate—”

He recorded it.

“Oh my god…” You looked at Floyd in horror, who was still grinning ear to ear, like a cat that got the mouse.

“HehehehehehahahAHAHA!” Floyd’s giggle turned into a cackle as he launched at you, mic and recorder abandoned on the floor. Between the ear-splitting squeal of the mic hitting the ground and a 6’2” man tackling you, there was little time for you to defend yourself as your lips clashed, teeth clattering against one another from the brute force.

His long arms wrapped themselves tightly around your waist, dipping you down dramatically as he broke your kiss to instead leave wet kisses on your cheeks, nose, forehead, and every other piece of skin not covered by clothes.

Ace and Cater’s cackles could be heard amongst the now growing laughter, whistles, and jeers of the crowd. You think you could even make out someone yelling at your two to get a room.

“—off the stage! Get off the stage, both of you!”

Ah, it was Azul. Who was stomping over the shoo you both off the stage, giving Floyd a particularly harsh whack on the head with his staff.

“Ow, fuck that hurt!” Floyd whined, scooping you up with his left hand and cradling you to his chest. “Cool it Azul, don’t harsh my vibe—”

“I don’t care! Go make out in your room! This is a lounge not a brothel!”

“Fiiiiiine,” Floyd adjusted his grip to instead throw you over his shoulder, amused by how limp you’d gone in his grasp. “Come on Shrimpy! I got something fun in mind~”

His sentence and teasing tone made you flush, images of you and him in bed flashing through your mind.

“W-wait, Floyd, what are we gonna do?”

“You’ll see, ahahahehe!” Floyd’s giggled echoed through the hallway as he quickened his pace. It was only a few minutes before you realized that you two had made it to the dormitory halls.

Floyd kicked open his door, the hinges squeaking from the force. He marched over to his bed, grabbing at your waist to no doubt throw you on it before pausing.

“Oh yeah.” Like a sudden realization hitting him, Floyd grabbed the corner of his bedsheets and shook them, clothing, books, and crumbs no doubtedly flying off.

Once satisfied, Floyd hummed and once again grabbed your waist, this time committing to throwing you on the bed, which bounced under you.

“AaaAaaAAAah—FLOYD!” You yelped, face turning redder as Floyd caged you to the bed. He looked at you with a hungry expression, licking his lips at the sight of you.

“Wait-wait Floyd, gimme a sec—” you stammered, crawling backwards until your back hit the headboard. “—this is all very very sudden, I—wait!”

Floyd crawled after you, trapping you with his long arms, leaning down until his lips were lingering over yours. You shut your eyes in anticipation, waiting for his hands to grab at your clothes and tear them off.

A soft, tender meeting of the lips. Floyd pressed his mouth against yours, swiping his tongue into your mouth, to which you returned with flustered confusion. The kiss was with such gentleness that you had to open your eyes to confirm that it was indeed Floyd kissing you.

Olive and yellow eyes were closed, a blissful smile on his lips as he broke your kiss, instead pressing almost chaste pecks to your cheeks, down, your neck, and over your shirt where your heart was beating away.

Floyd pressed his right ear to your chest, listening to the increasingly rapid pounding against your rib cage. His arms moved from trapping you against the bed to trapping you against his body, wrapping around your back and tightening while his lanky legs tangled between yours.

You weren’t sure what to do with your own hands, once he had settled laying on you. Hesitantly, you reached to lace them through his hair, pushing the strands back to get a better view of his peaceful face. Admittedly, seeing Floyd in such a state, blissful and sweet, was beautiful.

His smile grew slightly as you combed through his hair, nuzzling his nose into your chest. Into your heart really.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” Floyd opened his yellow eye, gleaming at you in amusement. “I just wanted to cuddle, did ya have somethin’ else in mind? Haha!”

He moved to prop up his chin, smirking at you as he teased, “Didn’t think ya had sucha dirty mind, if you wanna ‘do it’, all you had to do was ask—”

You shoved his face back into your chest looking away in embarrassment, feeling his giggles vibrate through you.

“Shut up, ugh!” You pouted, grumbling, “You set me up! Ugh! How’d you even know that would work?”

“I heard you.”

“Huh?”

“Talkin’ to Lil Goldfishie,” Floyd moved so that instead of laying on top of you, he was curled into your side with his head nestled at the crook of your neck. “When you got the flower sickness.”

You looked at him with shock. That conversation with Riddle happened nearly three months ago in between classes.

Specifically, it happened a few weeks after winter break, when you were catching up Riddle to your “adventure” in Scarabia, after which small lavender roses started blooming along your freckles, their thorns scratching your skin.

“And then, he launched us waaaaaay into the desert!” You animatedly waved your arms around as you recounted your fiasco over winter break. “We were trapped, but then Kalim used his unique magic to fill a dry riverbed with water and then!”

Riddle raised a brow at you as you began gigging with a soft blush. “Jade and Floyd had to turn into their merforms, so me and Kalim had to hold on to his back, but when I wrapped my arms around his chest, and he held my hand to steady me! ”

Your friend rolled his eyes as you started to silently squealed in your seat, sighing.

“Are you going to finish? I have better things to do than listen to you babble about Floyd of all people. Honestly,” Riddle huffed, “I don’t understand what you see in that riffraff!”

“He’s not a riffraff!” You quipped, frowning as you crossed your arms. “He’s actually really sweet if you give him the time of day, Floyd just likes being able to have fun with others you know!”

“Even then, his mood swings don’t terrify you? He gets rather violent sometimes.” Riddle took a sip of his tea as you shook your head.

“No, I mean if you just go with the flow it’s fine, plus that just makes him more exciting to be around! Plus we’ve been getting closer ever since Azul’s overblot…”

You smiled softly as you looked down at your lap, fondness growing in your heart like blooms on a warm spring day.

“He can actually be quite sweet, once you get to know him…you just have to give him a chance.”

The two of you remained quiet, the only coming from the distant chatter of other students in the more populated areas of the guest lounge.

“I’m safe to assume then that he is the reason you’ve started sprouting the roses?”

Your soft pink blush deepened as you nodded, picking at the small flower that began blooming on your cheek.

“Yeah…”

“When will you confess, then?” You looked at Riddle in shock, who seemed confused at your distress. “What? It’s obvious that you have strong feelings for him, and even I notice how especially clingy he is around you.”

You shook your head, stuttering, “Well, yeah but that’s—”

“I’ve even heard him refer to you by name, he only does that with Jade and Azul you know?”

“You don’t understand Riddle.” You tried to interject, growing more flustered by the second. “I don’t think I could—”

Riddle continued, “As much as I disapprove, it does seem that you two genuinely bring out the best in each other, he does seem softer when you’re around—”

“Oh my—Riddle, stop—”

“—And you’ve gotten more outspoken, I remember how shy you were—”

“I’m begging you—”

“—Besides, according to the Queen of Heart’s rule number 478, any romantic feelings must be confessed approximately 12 days upon their discovery or the individual in question obligated to deny—”

“I said stop, Riddle!” You yelled at the top of your lungs before choking on rather large bouquet of lavender roses. Leaves and petals fluttered all around you as you continued to let out rough coughs, phlegm and saliva making a mess.

Your yell startled the red-head so much that he simply started at you with a red face and thinned lips, too shocked to properly yell back at you for raising your voice indoors.

Instead, he carefully placed his tea cup on the table between you two, folded his hands in his lap, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. You on the other hand, peaked around the dividers separating your nook from the rest of the lounge.

Ace and Deuce looked over in concern as you continued to cough out more roses, walking over before you shook your head and gave them a thumbs up before shooing them away and turning back to Riddle.

“...sorry Riddle.” You whispered, looking at him nervously. “I didn’t mean to yell, don’t be mad?”

“It’s…fine.” He replied with a strained voice, taking a final inhale before opening his eyes again and making eye contact. “You shouldn’t have yelled, and I shouldn’t have pushed.”

Riddle sighed, relaxing into the soft lounge chair. Though he would deny when asked, the chair that he helped you pick for the guest room was is favorite spot to sit in, as it surprising comfortable.

“May I ask why you refused? It’s quite obvious to anyone that you care for him immensely, for some forsaken reason, and I would even say it’s quite mutual.”

You avoided eye contact as he resumes sipping from his tea, a lemon tea with 2 sugar cubes for his post meal tea.

“Yeah…that’s what the other first-years say too. Even Jade’s been dropping hints on mer courtship gifts.”

“Then? What’s stopping you?

A pregnant pause was in the air as you open and closed your mouth, attempting to figure out what it was that scared you.

“What if…he gets bored?”

Riddle furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned in, barely able to hear you.

“What if he what?” He sighed, a bit irritated. “Speak up Prefect, I know you can, you just did earlier.”

You groaned out, “What if he gets bored with me? I’m fun and interesting now, yeah!”

Your friend watched, and you began pacing around the room, holding his head in his hand as he watched and listened to you vent.

“I’m just a silly little magicless human that got transported from another world! Big whoop! What happens when that novelty wears off? You've heard him, he only likes to do things that are fun and interesting to him, but I won’t always be fun and interesting, eventually he’ll get used to me and get bored.”

You turned to look at Riddle with a teary-eyed, but firm look. “He’s get bored and leave me. I can’t handle that! So I just won’t be with him. In fact, I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for him!”

Your voice began to crack as you stated your final sentence, snapping your mouth shut before you got begun crying. Riddle stood up and walked over to grasp your shoulders, looking at you with an understanding smile.

“The sort of person that would abandon a lover simply because they’re bored never deserved one in the first place.”

Riddle hummed in agreement as you sqeaked out a ‘really?’, giving you a soft pat on your shoulder.

“Of course, I can’t say I don’t understand your hesitance, Floyd is…Floyd, after all. However, he is not my friend, you are. If you choose to forfeit your right to confess, then so be it.”

You smiled as he dragged you back to your seats, giggling as he continued, “I personally would say it’s no lost on your part, he’s not exactly the most prime candidate for your life partner should you be stuck here in Twisted Wonderland, may I suggest one of the many more suitable providers?”

“Pfft-like who? You?” you cackled as Riddle looked at you in mild horror.

“Oh dear, of course not! I admire you as a friend, but I have much stricter standards for a partner.” He snapped his fingers in revelation. “Perhaps Ace or Deuce, you are rather close to them—”

“Ewwwww, pass. They’re like annoying brothers!”

Riddle snorted before covering it up with a cough. “True. Trey?”

“If you’re just going to suggest your dorm members, maybe we should switch the conversation to something else.”

“Well I think my dorm produces only the best and most gentlemanly mages of all of NRC, so excuse me if I’m simply trying to give you the best options!”

You and Riddle shared some laughter, a flash of teal catching the corner of your eye. But you saw nothing, so instead you focused back on Riddle as he began recounting his own winter break activities.

You remained quiet as you processed your thoughts, finding the lilac ceiling to be particularly interesting.

Floyd also stayed quiet, still curled into your side as he breathed in your scent. You’re sure that with all of the flowers you’d started coughing up in the last few minutes, you smelled strongly of the lavender roses.

“You know…I was gettin’ real mad when you wouldn’t confess to me.” Floyd whined, propping his head up with his hand to look at you and your pink face.

“I thought it would be nice to get a cute confession out of my little shrimp,” He pinched your nose and forced you to look at him. “It be real fun! Like those cringy romcoms landfolk like so much!”

You replied, nasally due to your pinched nose, “Wait, is that why Jade was telling me about mer courting methods?”

“Haha! Yeah, I was hopin’ that you’d bring me a pretty seashell or somethin’ cute so Icould make fun of ya for later.”

You let out an indigent huff, smacking Floyd’s hand away as he laughed.

“Really? So what made you change your mind?”

“Hearing ya talk to Goldfishie. It pissed me off that you’d think I’d toss you out like humans at sea with their trash.”

Floyd’s tone changed, looking visibly annoyed as he continued.

“Mers mate for life, and I wouldn’t choose someone I’d get bored with.” He sat up as his mood continued to sour. “It pissed me off, and it hurt, that my Little Shrimpy would think about me like that.”

“Oh, Floyd,” you sat up with him, guilt seeping in your bones as you looked at his angry face. Though, with the small tears forming in his eyes, Floyd looked more frustrated than anything.

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t think—it didn’t occur to me that you felt the same—”

“Well I do, and it’s not fair to me that you wouldn’t even give me a chance.” The way Floyd said that so matter of factly made you snap your mouth shut again, looking down at your lap instead.

“I’m…sorry, Floyd. I wish I could make it up to you—”

Floyd interrupted, moody demeanor brightening suddenly. “No worries, I got just the solution!”

Crawling over back to you so that your back met the headboard again, Floyd grinned maliciously at your curled form.

“Say it.”

“Huh?”

“Say it. Those three little words.” Floyd held up three fingers to emphasize his point. “The ones that will make all those little flower go right away, the ones you need to say to me.”

You stiffened, leaning away from Floyd as he leaned in. “I don’t know if I can—”

“Say it, Y/N.” The use of your name startled your attention back to his face. He looked unusually serious, peering his heterochromic eyes into your own. If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve mistaken him for his twin.

You whispered, prolonging the inevitable, “What happened to Shrimpy?”

“Shrimpy was Shrimpy, but now your Y/N. And Y/N is Y/N…”

The two of you shared a smile as the distance between you two continued to close. You couldn’t remember what was so pressing earlier, why you were so anxious when the yellow eye of the man in front of you produced nothing but adoration from your heart.

“Please…” From the uncharacteristic soft murmur to the eyes darting down to your lips and back to your eyes, Floyd drew you back in with a hypnotic ease that only the most alluring of mythical creatures could even hope to imitate.

The two of you leaned in as you placed a hand on his chest, his own left hand coming to cradle your own.

You craned your head back to hover your lips under his, uttering the words you swore to never let leave your mouth.

“I-I…love you, Floyd Leech.”

A single lavender rose grew between your palms, as two longing hearts met as one.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst floyd #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #twst floyd x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #a floral inconvenience #big advocate for softie floyd leech #its what he deserves

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alocon · 2 months

Text

Always Irresistible [3] - Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

written by alocon

Summary: Despite all hope, Lando never lost his feelings for his best friend's twin sister. However, he still hadn't acted on it. Well, that was until the party, which led you two into a long-term secret relationship

Warnings and Tropes: Fluff, part 3 to the story released the other day.

[Part One Here] [Part Two Here] [Part Four Here] [Masterlist]

Always Irresistible - Ln4 x Fem!Reader

Your head leant onto your boyfriend's shoulder as you watched a film on your bed. He had basically moved all his stuff into your room by this point and was only using his room as a streaming setup. One of his arms was around your back, the other being placed gently onto your knee.

The pair of you had been in a fair share of arguments over the time you'd been in a relationship but it didn't stop you both from making up again in the end. It was a normal thing that happened between every couple in every relationship. Arguing was completely normal.

You first felt his attention on you when a jumpscare came onto the screen. Lando would usually look away until the scene was over and then would look back, but this time you could feel like eyes burning into you. You turned to look back at him, noticing the way his eyes scanned over your face. You were pretty sure he could draw you from memory down to the placement of every single freckle on your face by the amount of time he had spent staring, however, you didn't mind. It made you feel loved, appreciated. It made you feel beautiful. “What?” You asked quietly, confused about why he was staring at you now.

“You're just.” He paused to look over your face again, his eyes filled with nothing but love. “I'm so glad we're together.” You smiled. That was sweet.

You placed a kiss on his lips. “I'm glad we are too.” Apparently, that one kiss was not enough for his liking as he leaned in again, his hands gripping your waist as you pulled you in for a longer, more intimate kiss that the peck you had given him only moments before. You, obviously, kissed back, letting him climb over you, laying you back on the bed below him. You knew where this was heading and you were all for it as he lost the shirt, it landing on the floor beside the bed.

He had done everything in his power since you got together to make you feel like the most perfect woman in the world. It was like the two of you were made for each other, every kiss making you fall more and more in love. You adored the way he wouldn't let you go in the morning. You adored how, if he went out with his friends for the day, you would barely be able to leave his embrace because he missed you. You loved every single thing about this relationship. It was perfect. Sometimes you both wished that you could share it with the world.

“What the fuck.” You pulled away quickly from the kiss, Lando grabbing his shirt and throwing it on, over his head. You looked at the furious man in the doorway as he turned to walk away, stating that he wished to talk to Lando the kitchen. He placed another quick kiss to your lips before following the man, shutting the door behind him.

It was silent for a moment, weirdly silent. And then, shouting. Arguing. You listened into the argument as best you could but could barely hear anything. You could only pick out a few words here and there. You sat on your bed, thinking about what to do, deciding that, if it didn't stop in a couple of minutes, you would have to go sort him out yourself.

The arguing still hadn't stopped.

“I can't believe you'd do this. I made it very clear that she is one to fall and fall hard for someone and that she was very much off limits. I can't believe you would go behind my back to fuck with her feelings, what the hell. Seriously, what are you thinking screwing with her head like that?” Max was furious and Lando was a little anxious in that moment. He had never seen him so angry.

“I'm not, Max. I would never play with her feelings like that, don't be stupid. Why would I ever do that to her?”

Max's shouting only got louder. “Because you've done it before. How many times have you dated someone or got with them for a month or two only to turn around and change your mind and claim you can't love them like they deserve. That you love someone else and so it would be unfair to them. How do I know that you won't do the same to my sister?”

Lando's voice matched Max's now. “Because its always been her!”

Max went silent in an instant. It was Lando’s turn to rant at him, now.

“For God's Sake, Max. She is the one I've been in love with all these years. She's the one I've wanted to be with since we were 13. But I didn’t pursue a relationship because she's your sister. I would've felt bad because she's your twin. I tried to date other women to get over her. Believe me, I tried. But I couldn't, because I've never got over her. It's always been her. It will always be her.”

Max didn't know what to say. He didn't even notice your presence in the doorway. “Max, if you plan to keep shouting at my boyfriend, you need to leave.”

“Boyfriend?” Max looked between the two and saw Lando looking equally as surprised at that outburst.

You looked at Lando, stepping closer to him. “Lan he knows. Isn't it better to be fully open now?” You were speaking quietly to him. Your voice changed into a whisper. “Only if you're comfortable.”

“Yeah. I am.” You sat on the kitchen counter beside him as he spoke. He smiled at you, before turning to Max. “Yes. Boyfriend.”

“For how long?”

“July-”

“You've been dating for six months and didn't tell me?” He cut Lando off as he spoke.

“No, Max. July last year. 2023.”

“A year and six months and you didn't tell me?”

“We didn't tell most people!”

“Who knows?” He asked, looking straight at you.

“Zak, Oscar, Alex and both Lily's. Oh, and Max and Charlie but that's only because Charles doesnt know how to knock on a door and Max is his little gossip buddy slash emotional support rival thing.”

“And Alex and Lily only found out because they walked out of the club at the party last year with us. And we only told Zak, Oscar and Lily at first to make sure no photos of us holding hands were posted. So really, you're one of the first few.”

“Still though. That's so many people you told before me!” Max was slightly raising his voice again.

“Because I knew you'd act like this,” you raised your voice back at him. He looked surprised. As did Lando. Lando had never heard you raise your voice at anyone before. You rarely did. “Stop treating me like a child, Max. I'm a grown fucking adult.”

“I can't believe you're being so selfish.” Max deadpanned as he looked at you, voice still raised. “He was my friend first.”

“This isn't a fucking competition. He can be both your friend and my boyfriend!”

“Yeah? Says who?”

“Me! P was my friend before she was your girlfriend but you don't see me out and about bitching like you do. But no, you can't handle it being the other way around because for once, your sister has decided to do something for her that makes her happy without worrying what you would think of her. For God's Sake, Max. You need to grow up.” Lando placed his hand on you as you ranted at your brother.

“That's different. She was your best friend, Lando is my childhood best friend.”

“It's not different, you're just a fucking hypocrite.” You stood up off the counter, walking away. A few moments later, the slam of a door could be heard.

Max turned to look at Lando. “You need to make a decision, Lando. Our friendship or your relationship.”

You sat in the bedroom, having just let a couple of tears fall from your face. You had heard Max's words. And then nothing. You heard the door open and shut. That was an hour ago and you had heard nothing from then since so, as hard as it was, you figured that he had chosen Max. It didn't surprise you. Max was his best friend, you completely got it. You dropped a text to P.

To P: Hi lovely. I just wanted to apologise for not telling you sooner about this but Lando and I are (or were) together. I didn't want to tell you because we weren't ready for Max to know and I didn't want Max to be upset with you for knowing and not telling him. Miss you lots x

From P: Hi!! Thank you for telling me. I'm glad you did. I completely understand why you didn't tell me sooner. I had my suspicions anyways. What do you mean “or were”???

You began to talk to P about what happened, her promising to invite you over for a binge ice cream and crying session if he does choose Max. You felt a lot better. Opting to ignore everything else and shut the world out, you rolled over and closed your eyes, drifting off to sleep quite easily.

You were awoken not too long later by the feeling of a hand on your face. You groaned softly, opening your eyes to see him crouched in front of you, eyes at the same level as you. “Hey beautiful, how long have you been asleep?”

“Not too long. I thought you went with Max.”

“Did you hear what he said?”

“About you choosing me or him? Yes.”

Lando placed a kiss on your cheek. “Oh darling, I'm so sorry. I didn't think. I just went out to get us food for dinner so that we don't have to cook. I should've messaged. I'm so sorry.” He placed his forehead against yours, helping you sit up as you hugged him. He pulled you off of the bed, bringing you to the living room to sit beside you, food boxes in hand. You smiled. He had gone out of his way to drive to Nice to get you food from your favourite noodle place. He passed you a pair of chopsticks, grinning at you.

“Thank you, I love you.”

“I love you more,” he responded, no hesitation.

“So,” you said after taking a bite of your food. “What happened?”

Max turned to look at Lando. “You need to make a decision, Lando. Our friendship or your relationship.”

Lando looked at him, surprise in his face as he never thought his best friend would stoop that far. Grabbing his keys, he signalled for Max to walk out the door, him following behind as a look of triumph appeared on Max's face. The two stayed in silence until they got to the car park. That was when Lando turned to Max.

“I'm glad you came to your senses and chose me, mate.”

Lando chuckled, a bitter, annoyed chuckle. “Who said I was choosing you?”

Max looked at him, his face dropping into one of confusion. “You're out here with me.”

Lando looked at Max. “I hope, for your sake, that you will never again ask me to pick between you and my girlfriend ever again because I will choose her every single time.”

“What the hell, Lando. I've known you longer.”

Lando stepped closer, right in front of Max's face. “And she's the woman I want to marry one day. So rather than me making a choice, you get to. You should take some time to calm down and to think long and hard about whether you want this battle because, when I do marry her, it's your actions that determine whether you'll be there alongside me as my best man or not.” Lando stepped back, turning around and getting in his car. “Now if you don't mind me, I'm going to get my girlfriend and I dinner.”

-The End-

[Word Count: 2008]

Hi All, Hope you enjoyed this part, I enjoyed writing it. I wrote this at work earlier because I had nothing to do hahah. Have a good day x Alocon

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selvyyr · 29 days

Text

୧ ‧₊˚🌺🎞 ⋅ ☆

SELF AWARE!HAZBIN HOTEL

↪You were one of the animators that was the first one to join the animating team

↪You loved animating alot and always made them perfectly good

↪What you didn't notice is that the certain show that you and the team were animating for long time was actually self aware and saw you as their "god"

↪You would often hear voices whenever you fall asleep while finish animating but not closing the project.

↪Which the character you were animating would talk and watch you..

↪And one day you decided to take a break which made the characters panic..

↪Where were you?!Did the other people you were with hurt you?!!

↪You never knew this at all...And how did the characters knew they were in show and just characters?

↪Well..Vaggie and charlie felt they had been watched and whenever they wanted to move freely.. They couldn't..

↪In which the others felt that too.. And the first one to you saw you was Lucifer

↪He always felt someone was watching him and playing with him like as if he was puppet...

↪You just wanted to draw one of the spoiler scenes for the show..Which was lucifer..And that's when he saw your face..

↪Your beauty were way too unexpected..You looked like a divine being..Not in heaven nor hell...

↪And when you finsihed..You closed the project which lucifer thought you disappeared when you noticed him staring at you..

↪Lucifer told the others about it which they realized they were characters in show..

↪And you were the one who control them and the fate of their world..

↪So they begin to worship you and even begin to make little merches about you alot

↪Charlie hopes that you'll make her dreams come true..She really hopes so...

↪Vaggie will be very serious and tries very hard that she didn't really care about you that much but inside she's just sickly worried about you and your safety..

↪Angel dust sees you as his blessing,you gifted him fat nuggets..If you ever come he will not let you meet valentino at all

↪Husk is reversed,he will just be grumpy all the time but inside he just hopes you'll give him blessing by breaking the deal he made with alastor..

↪Alastor is openly about you alot.He'll be one of your top worshipper.He would try to send dead sinners bodies/organs to your world..

↪nifty is fine with you..She sees you as sister and hopes she will meet you one day

↪Sir pentious have few materials he made for you but will show you only..

↪The vee's have merchs about you alot.Vox would try to hack the systems in your world.Whole valentino thinks about how you hot you are(please i would kill him if i ever meet hjm.) while velvet is peparing whole ass clothes for you if you ever come.

↪And of course heaven knows about you too.

↪Sera hopes that you'll stay at heaven rather than hell..

↪While emily would always wish you happy day and hopes you are doing alright in your realm..

↪Adam worships you as he calls himself your "favorite"..Expect he is not..

↪Lute may have bought some of the merhs from hell when one exrermantion happened..

↪The elder angels would always try their best and hopes you would be proud of them alot..

୧ ‧₊˚🌺🎞 ⋅ ☆

#fanfic #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #Self aware!Hazbin hotel #Yandere #Female reader

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chococoveredsmores · 10 months

Note

Like anything miles 1610. I feel like everyone is writing for miles 42 and forgetting about the og!

midnight cravings - miles morales

SUMMARY: texts at 3am + a mcdonalds notif = a recipe for chaos

WORD COUNT: 561

A/N: i love midnight snacking. mcdonalds always hits harder at 2 in the morning! also sorry i keep writing miles in like situations where he isnt usually 100% Himself (sleepy, sick) so um,.. i will get to a proper one soon

WARNINGS: nothing seriously bad just fluff, food i guess, reader doesn't know miles is spiderman, reader is highkey a simp

"Ugh..." You wake up with a groan, rubbing your eyes and assessing your surroundings. Noticing the still-dark environment surrounding you, you reach out for your phone which was on the bedside table.

2:42 AM. The phone lights blare onto your face, causing you to squint. As you scroll through your notifications, two catch your eye— a text bubble from Miles sent a few minutes ago, and a promo from McDonalds for their new meal.

Miles’ message was rather cryptic, and a normal person wouldn’t understand what “ruawkkekkrkx” meant. But a few months of these kind of typos (which meant Miles was either on patrol or barely awake), and one learns the language.

On the other hand, the McDonalds notif… if it was a propaganda technique, it was definitely working on you. You click on the advertisement, and damn did that chicken burger look good…

You decide to go back to Miles’ text. After opening the app and keyboard, your fingers feel too heavy to type… so you tap on the call button instead.

After exactly three rings, he picks up; in place of his normally spunky voice was a low, raspy one.

“Hey. You good? What’s with the random call?” Damn, his voice was unintentionally sultry as hell. Would it be weird if you started screen recording? He wouldn't know, right?

Ahem. Anyway.

"Oh, I'm fine, a little hungry though. I just didn't wanna type. Um, nice voice by the way." You hear a chuckle through the screen.

"So, you hungry? I mean, I could like, get you a snack or whatever."

"It is literally 3 in the morning right now." Though you expressed disapproval at what he said, your facial muscles tugged into a smile.

"Whatchu want?"

One link to a McDonalds meal later, you're patiently waiting in a now dimly lit room, phone in hand and still in bed. You decide to watch a show while waiting.

You're midway through your show, engrossed in a particular fight scene when you hear your window open with a click. Your fight or flight senses kick in, and you jump out of your bed and grab your phone and lamp (it's the nearest weapon, so...).

You watch as a dark figure comes out of the window in fear, you are ready to swing your lamp and dial your nearest police station when the figure raises both their hands in the air, to signify peace...?

The person pulls up their mask to show their face, one that you'd instantly recognize anywhere.

"Miles!"

You drop everything and sprint to his arms— literally nothing, not even a meteor, could stop you at that moment from wrapping yourself around his lean figure. Miles places his hands on your back, and the two of you relish in each other's presence.

You wish the two of you could stay like that forever, but the enticing smell of a chicken burger and drink eventually draw your attention towards it and you pull away from him.

"Can we talk about how the hell you got to my window with me living in the 21st floor? I seriously thought that the moment you clicked open the window was going to be my last for a few seconds."

Miles smiles and slightly bites his lips, and God forbid the kinds of things you would do for this man.

"Maybe over a chicken burger?"

a/n: to be completely honest i cringed so hard typing this fanfic but i just need to finish it so i hope none of you umm.. feel what im feeling rn at my own writing...

#atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderman: across the spiderverse #itsv #spiderman: into the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv x reader #miles x reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales fluff #miles morales imagines #miles 1610

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hazbinhazmeinachokehold · 18 days

Note

Sorry if I’m a bother, if that’s the case feel free to skip over this one.

I freaking loved it! I’m now inspired to draw Sam with the overlords now! If it’s not too much trouble could I ask for Zestial, Charlie and the rest of the hotel’s reactions to Sam?

(Ooo!😳 what if for Angel’s it’s Valentino who tries to hurt him?! That could get messy!)

A/n: Nah dude you're fine! Though I don't write for Zestial (not that that's your fault I keep forgetting to put that in the rules.)

Warnings (?): nothing major happens but Val's here so warning for abuse. Also, Alastor is hurt in Husk's part and Val is hurt in Angel's part, it's nothing graphic but if you don't want to read about that skip those parts.

!!!not proofread!!!

Charlie: Just as cuddly as you! Gladly accepts any candy from you. She ends up getting candy from the hotel for you. Let's you tag along if it's safe (or at least what she assumes you can handle.) Despite being the princess of Hell it's a known fact that she's a pushover and usually refuses to use her powers. So it's not that much of a surprise when someone attacks her. What is a surprise is how you react. I'm going to be honest, she is at least a little scared of you now. Though she's pretty sure you'd only attack people when they hurt your friends. We’re about 80% sure they're harmless.

Vaggie: She ain't too keen on cuddles, but isn't totally against it. She's not great with kids when they're just chilling so she doesn't know what to do. Also, she isn't one for sweets but appreciates the gesture. You remind her of Charlie in a weird way (but like platonic obviously.) Vaggie got some crayons for today's bonding activity when some random sinner attacked Vaggie. Before Vaggie could defend herself the sinner was ripped off of her. She just stared dumbfounded as you took care of the sinner. Well, there goes her thinking you're like Charlie. I mean sure you seemed sweet when somebody attacked a person you liked. You became terrifying and did anything to defend them- wait never mind you're more like Charlie now.

Angel Dust: Kinda creeped out by you before you do anything tbh. You follow him around nearly everywhere and keep offering him candy, despite barely knowing each other. But he understands you're a kid and may have a hard time showing you care, but he sets a ground rule: NEVER follow him to work. It's not a place for kids to be, and you followed that! Valentino just couldn't keep his hands off Angel even out of the studio. You too were just at a park, it was night so no one was really around. Until Valentino spotted Angel, you didn't hear any of the words that were said between them. But you did see Valentino hit Angel and that was the end of that. Seeing you almost kill Valentino was horrifying but also very cathartic. After the initial shock wears off you get about 20 bags of candy and however much cuddle time you want.

Husk: He's pretty blunt about finding you off-putting. But you don't seem to care and still follow him around like a lost puppy. The fact that him insulting you didn't sour your opinion of him even a little bit concerns him. So he starts to look after you. Not because he cares about you! Just because it'd be messed up to let a kid get manipulated no matter who they are. He totally cares about you. He gives chocolate milk or any sweet drink you like at the bar. One day Husk decided to stand up to Alastor which seemed to be a huge mistake on Husk's part. It would have been if it wasn't for you walking in on the scene. The threats were made good on. Just towards Alastor instead of him doing them. Husk is a little shaken up but hey he's probably free now. Gets you any candy you want and shows you a shit ton of card tricks.

Niffty: Tbh I don't have much to say about her. She finds you interesting but doesn't give you much thought. Though eventually when you protect her she returns your affection. Because you are scary and small which are both things she is.

Sir Pentious: (this is while he's in hell btw) Not great with kids. Like I don't think the egg bois are kids but even if they are the only experience he has with kids is his minions. But he does try! He does care for kids. He'll get you candy and cuddle if you want. He used to try to take over territories a lot. He always failed but he still made a lot of enemies that way. So when one of them finds him and tries to hurt him while you're around? I mean if he still wants that territory he can definitely take it now. To be honest I think he'd find you cool, even if you're more than a little scary.

#hazbin hotel x reader #husk x reader #angel dust x husk #angel dust x reader #charlie x reader #vaggie x reader #sir pentious x reader #niffty x reader #child reader #platonic

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lvrtwn · 3 months

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venus if she was awesome

speedpaint and more thoughts under the cut

venus has always been one of my favorite characters, though i feel her design is pretty underwhelming with a lot of wasted potential. this is kind of a redesign, kind of my own personal headcannon, and kind of how i imagined venus in my head as a kid.

this is supposed to be my version of g1 venus, more similar in facial features and keeping the straight hair. i absolutely love her new hair and face in g3 but im hesitant to call the new outfit an improvement. both g1s outfit and g3s outfit are bad in their own ways. i dont want it to seem like im shitting on the new design. again i think the face sculpts, hair, and body types of g3 are so awesome. its great to see more diversity being included in the designs. i just decided to go with g1 venuses look because thats the venus i grew up with

i definitely took some inspiration from g3s outfit for this design. i like the idea of it but the execution is just not great, not to say her original outfit is any better. i feel like out of all of tge original monsters she was the one with the most waisted potential. i love her personality and the abilities she has but the way she was styled has always bothered me.

in the movies shes described as “eco-punk” which is SUCH a cool style to go with a plant monster character. i just feel like the “punk” in “eco-punk” was never really represented in her outfits. i personally love punk music and clothing; ive been an active member in my local diy scene for many years and i love seeing all the outfits people put together.

i thought i would give her an outfit that shows off a couple of my personal favorite staples of punk style. big chunky leather boots with lots of straps and buckles. kept the shoe mouths from the original because they cool as hell. lots of leather, studs, spikes. i gave her denim cutoff shorts inspired by her gen 3 outfit, same with the torn black top. punk style has a big focus on comfort, practicality, and making things yourself. i imagine she cut a pair of old pants into shorts, roughly cut her “undead kennedys”band shirt tank into a crop top, and probably repurposed the remaining fabric. i also totally didnt draw this whole thing as an excuse to use that pun. i included asymmetrical leg accessories, with one fishnet stocking and one torn up sock. i also feel like she repurposed these, continuing to wear her old torn up socks instead of just throwing them out. i gave her a big chunky studded belt matching one of her cuffs with a recycling symbol belt buckle. i feel like it communicates an important aspect of her personality just at a glance, plus i just love big belt buckles. lastly i added piercings because 1. theyre cool and 2. i for some reason remembered her having an eyebrow piercing but i guess she never had one.

i mostly kept her body and hair the same. changed her ears and hair color slightly but thats just personal preference. i decided to make the vines on her body look more like tattoos instead of being 3d. i imagine she can make them grow into real vines, but when shes not using her powers theyre just flat against her skin. gave her a facial expression that made her look a little more unhinged. she might only do things for the good of the earth but she can still mind control people at will.

i wish i leaned a little bit more into the plant theming but im overall still super happy with how this came out. maybe ill made more monster high redesigns in the future

#monster high #monster high gen 1 #monster high redesign #venus mcflytrap

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somnambulic-thing · 7 months

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insane

musician!Eddie x afab art student!Reader E 18+ | 4.6k Reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, but I'm an enby bitch and write my readers that way. You decide.

A/N: I wrote this right after finishing Paint It Black while my brain was still stuck in that universe. It is, however, not really what I would call a thought through finished/rounded story, since I lost steam at some point. It stops at the end of a scene without a cliffhanger or anthing like that. It's 1st draft quality, but I thought it would be sad if it withered away in my drafts if there is the chance that at least a few people enjoy it. It should work as a standalone when you're willing to maybe not get a few references. There's some context in the beginning. Again, you decide.

CW |strangers to lovers aka feral love at first sight, light smut: piv, fluff, showering together, intense feelings of falling in love, Corroded Coffin concert, Erica on the bass (guess she's a little older in this universe), Eddie POV, Steve POV in 3rd person, other ST characters, worried, protective but supportive friends, mentions of food, traces of Jonathan/Argyle|

It was like Eddie was going a little insane. It felt unreal that it hadn’t been quite twenty-four hours since he'd seen you for the first time, up in the second row of that life drawing class. Gareth had been working as an exhibition tech for that art school in that fancy old building for two months and was pretty enthusiastic about it. Like he was part of a community now - which was the way Gareth went about things these days - and he needed to support all those artists in becoming by leaving those flyers for life modelling fucking everywhere.

Gareth would be elated to hear how committed Eddie had been on his first job.

He looked at you fast asleep beside him, naked and covered in blue and purple marks his mouth had left all over you and felt a little insane again. There was this urge to move over and press his face into the soft skin of your chest until he was desperate for breath He also never wanted you to wake up and this moment to end. Blue morning light played with your skin while you looked so peaceful despite the traces of debauchery.

A sigh slipped from his mouth and you stirred, brows drawing together slightly and he wanted to kiss the spot in between. Hell, it was like that with everything.

After Eddie had asked you where you wanted to shower off the sweat and black paint, he had taken you home. In the car, you had reached out to the radio and he had to snatch your hand before you could pull it back to kiss the tips of your fingers. When you had kicked off your shoes in his hallway, the tip of your tongue had peeked out of your mouth and he just had to kiss it. Every little detail he learned about the way your body behaved, he wanted to put his praise to it.

You had talked nonstop all the way to Eddie's place, up the stairs, out of your clothes again and into the shower. There was something sublime in the way the paint rinsed off your body. Black flaky streams of water making their way over the hills and valleys of your physique. That too made him feel a little insane and you agreed with him when he'd told you about it. Shit, he wanted to tell you about everything that crossed his mind, wanted to hear your thoughts about the smallest details. Then you had moved behind him, soap coating your palms and washed him until the only black remaining on him was permanent ink.

You had told him, while slathering him in foam and bubbles, that it made you a little crazy how his wet skin reflected the light. Something about undertones you needed to study - Eddie needed to ask about that later in detail - and he had finally calmed down a little. He wasn't going insane alone, you were just as crazy about him.

Jeff had come home while the both of you had spent a little eternity in the bathroom and the intensity with which Eddie wanted to introduce you to his best friend as 'his' was only topped by the urge of getting you into his bed. Maybe it was better for you to get to know his friends when you weren't just wearing a towel and bite marks. Pride had flooded Eddie when Jeff pulled up his eyebrows paired with a smirk and a raised thumb as he rushed you through the hallway into his room.

It had been hard to hold back and let you look around as you wandered so far away from the mattress he was so determined to fuck you through.

"DnD?" you had asked, head stuck in a shelf displaying all kinds of DnD paraphernalia. Eddie loved your voice when it asked questions.

"Uh-hn. Since I was a kid. My uncle bought me a handbook at a yard sale because he thought I’d like the pictures and I've been hooked ever since."

There was adoration in your eyes and excitement in your voice. "So you’re a nerd?"

"Guilty as charged."

You bit your finger with a small smile and he of course wanted to kiss all of it. "Dungeon Master, by any chance?"

Not for the first time today Eddie asked with a stunned face: "How do you know?" Followed by: "Do you play?"

"You have this..." you waved around your beautiful hands while looking for the right words, "this way of taking charge and narrating your thoughts... and I have played before, yes, but not in a long time."

And then Eddie had stolen your towel and went to work on that mental list of places he needed to kiss. His hand found its way between your thighs, slow and soft this time and finally, you found your way into Eddie's bed and under him and he back inside you.

There was no rush, no hard fast urgency - well, he took you hard by the end because you liked it when he shattered you a little. You had told him that between licking into his mouth while he rolled his hips against you, his aching cock sliding against your folds, teasing you just a little before turning you to your side, watching himself slide into you in the mirror across the room.

You had ordered food, that you had shared in bed. You were so fucking funny all the time that he kept dropping shit and a change of sheets was due because there was no way Eddie would spend his first night with you between food-stained covers.

There had been no conversation if you'd stay, you just did. It would have been a waste of time, breath lost that could be used to learn more about you, tell you more about him.

By four in the morning, you both knew a lot and entirely too little. It was ridiculous.

And that brought him here, looking at you asleep and too good to be true. It was a little painful, actually. But just like when you pulled his hair or bit at his neck or hips, Eddie wanted to lean into it.

"You... staring at me, Munson?"

"Studying you." He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Too bad my drawing skills are so fucking rusty..."

Ah, he made you smile; how addictive that was. "You’re studying me from too far away. Come here."

"Needy?" he asked as he pressed himself against you, burying his face in your neck. It couldn't be a coincidence that he fit in there so perfectly.

"Hmmm, just like you."

"M' bad at hiding that, aren’t I?"

A kiss landed on his hair, nails softly grazed over the curve of his spine. "Why the fuck would you want to do that?"

"Don’t want to scare you away."

You pulled back and squinted one eye at him.

"We're meeting your uncle this afternoon. You think needy will scare me away now?"

Eddie ran his hand up your side and smiled. "Wayne will love you."

"You think?"

"See no reason why he wouldn't."

"You know that this here," you pointed your chin between the both of you, "is a little insane, right?"

Eddie snorted and pressed a kiss to your arm. "Uh-hn, but I can't find it in me to give a shit... S' that bad?"

"I guess then we're bad people."

He softly kissed your lips, feeling tingly and warm. “Bad people in good company.”

—

When Wayne got Eddie alone for a few minutes he asked why he had kept you a secret for so long.

"Old man, we met yesterday. Could't have brought her over earlier without us barging in here naked."

"You're shittin' me?"

"Nope," he grinned.

Wayne's mouth hung open for a moment. "Eddie, ya'll been talking like you've been married for a decade. And happily at that."

"Feels more like two."

Scratching his head, Wayne was looking for words. "That's insane, boy."

"I know," he said with that pride again. "Wait till you hear the full story... well... ahm... maybe not all of it. Shit, actually there's not much I can tell you..."

"Goin' by the looks of her neck I don't doubt it." Wayne had a sip from his mug, eyes crinkling with a smile over the rim.

"You like her?"

"Love her!" Then his features dimmed with a tinge of worry. "I’m happy for you, Eddie. Just don't get your heart broken."

—

Splitting the nights between Eddie’s and your place was another thing that didn’t need discussing. You share a place with your best friend Barb and she gave Eddie a thorough interrogation when he stayed over for the first time.

“You’re a serial killer or something?”

“Only on game nights,” he grinned.

“What are you doing?”

“Talking to you.”

Barb crossed her arms and pulled up her brows. “So you’re a funny one. Are you going to school? Are you working?”

“I’m a studio musician. Sometimes I sub for live gigs too, but that interferes too much with the time for my own band, so I really only do that occasionally when I dig the music.”

Eddie tried not to say something smart when he saw her efforts to suppress some sort of impressed surprise forming on her features.

“And you’re modelling?”

“Nah,” he laughed. “Well, that one time, yeah. Just was trying out something new. We’ll see if I’ll do that again.”

You walked back into the room, naturally drawn over to him like he was a giant magnet, instantly weaving your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck.

“Are you mean to my man, Barbara?”

Eddie shuddered and pushed a hand past the hem of your shirt; he was so hungry for your skin.

“No,” Barb huffed. “We’re just getting to know each other… aaaand—“

“And?” you said flatly.

“Come oooon,” she whined. “You can’t be mad at me that I am worried about you!”

Eddie looked up to you, leaning back a little to catch your eyes. “It’s not unreasonable.”

“Thank you, Eddie.”

“And I don’t mind,” he said. You brushed a thumb over his cheekbone and he chased it with a small kiss before smiling. “I know how to handle myself when I feel unreasonably bullied.”

“You’re so fucking cute,” you sighed and smiled down at him. Barb made a dry heaving sound.

“I am trapped in a rom-com simulation or something.” She took her mug from the table and walked out, calling from around the corner: “Try not to wake me with weird sex stuff, please?”

“She’s usually very sweet,” you told him with a frown when you were alone again. “Sorry about that.”

“Hey, I mean it. It’s okay.” Eddie turned and moved you in between his spread knees, hugging your waist, smiling up at you. “Chances are high that Steve will give you a similar treatment. He’s usually very sweet too, but he’s got this whole mama bear thing going on so… sorry about that.”

—

“Dude… Dude… Edward!”

“Huh?” Eddie’s head snapped back to Steve who looked a little annoyed. “What did you just say?”

Steve rolled his eyes and looked down at his watch. “It’s kinda time for you to head towards the stage.”

“Mhh, gimme me five more minutes, I don’t want to miss her.”

Ever since Steve had heard about that mysterious new spouse not quite three days ago, he hadn’t been able to stop frowning. Eddie was a bag of feral cats on his best days but right now he was a nervous fucking mess. His eyes were glued to the glass door of the venue and he was about to chew off his bottom lip any moment.

“If she comes, she’ll easily find you. You’re hard to miss front-center stage.”

“If?” Eddie looked horrified.

“When… I mean when she comes, Jesus.”

“What if something happened?”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.

“Hey!” Eddie said, face hard. “Don’t do that!”

“Sorry… I… you’re really intense about this man, I’m getting a little worried.”

Eddie looked back at the door and bounced on his toes. “Well, I’m really intensely in love with her so you better get used to it.”

“In love?” Steve blurted out and braced himself for another burning look but Eddie kept his face directed at the door. “Man, it’s been five days!”

“Don’t know what that has to do with anything. It’s not like I can just turn it off—“

“Eddie?” Jeff called over the noise of the opening act droning in the background. “You coming or what?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he looked away from the door at last. “On my way.”

Steve trudged down the corridor and pushed his way into the concert hall, squinting as the loud music of the opener hit his eardrums. The lights were flickering in tune with the outro of the song as he pushed his way past sweating people to the front where Jonathan and Robin should be. He needed to seriously roll his eyes at someone who wasn’t going to rip his fucking head off for finding this whole thing concerning.

The music stopped right as he put his chin on Robin’s shoulder. On stage, the frontwoman thanked the cheering crowd for a good time.

“And?” Robin asked excitedly. “She here?”

“Nah. Eddie is losing his mind.”

Jonathan joined them, looking a little red around the eyes. “I think it’s cute somehow?”

“Cute?” Steve huffed. “Don’t know about that.”

“Hey, at least wait until you have met her,” Robin rasped. She had definitely had a good time with that first band.

“Did you know he has two drawers at her place? Two. After five days!”

Jonathan shrugged. “You have to put your shit somewhere.”

Steve slapped a hand against his forehead. “Jesus… he’s going to get his heart broken!”

“You don’t know that.”

“Robin! Nothing can hold up like that over time!”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to,” Jonathan said.

“Yeah, if you start at unbelievable falling down to amazing is still amazing.”

“Wow, Rob,” Jonathan gasped. “That was deep.”

“Thanks, Jon.”

Steve leaned over the barrier in front of the stage and rubbed his face in disbelief. “When have you two become such firm believers in overdone romance novel tropes?”

Jonathan shrugged again. “I kinda knew I was in for Argyle after two weeks, man. And it’s been years now.”

“Yeah, alright, but you took a few months to let it grow!”

The lights dimmed down and fog started to creep over the stage floor. Whistles and shouts sounded from the crowd that was waiting for the main show to begin.

Corroded Coffin wasn’t big by business standards, but they had acquired a pretty solid fanbase by now. This was actually the biggest crowd they’d ever played on a solo gig. Gareth’s silhouette emerged from the fog, arms raised, one hand forked in a salute, the other armed with sticks. The crowd cheered, getting louder when Jeff took his place behind his mic, checking his pedals on the floor in what Steve knew to be superstition.

“It’s about to happen,” Robin said next to him, clapping her hands in excitement and right on cue, Erica stormed the stage, swinging her bass like a battle axe. Erica had replaced Grant a few years ago and was by now one of Eddie’s closest friends. Steve needed to pull her over and ask her what she had to say about the whole ordeal sometime soon.

People roared, longtime fans chanting Erica’s name and her grin shone brighter than the fucking spotlights. Last came Eddie. He marched in, radiating with the energy that hinted at the total beast he turned into on stage. Steve was glad to see that this madness didn’t dim him down. Jonathan moved his mouth but it was already hard to hear over the cheers and chants and whistles.

Eddie grabbed his mike and did his thing, luring the crowd in closer, his voice low and rumbling. He laughed diabolically, tongue sticking out as a sea of hands flew in the air and people bounced in anticipation. Erica hit the first notes, her thick heavy bass hitting Steve right in the stomach and he could see Eddie scan the first few rows with a nervous frown, pacing back and forth with squared shoulders. His hand was so firm around the neck of his guitar, Steve was worried he would snap it clean off. Robin threw Steve a glance; she saw it too. For everybody else, Eddie just looked intense, about to give them a show but his friends could see something cracking through.

He didn’t miss his cue though. He rarely ever did.

The first song rolled over them like an avalanche. Eddie and Erica were firm believers in hitting the crowd hard right away, hyping them up till their animal brains were thrumming and out for blood or whatever. It had taken Steve and Robin a while to get used to hard music, but it turned out that there was a lot of variance. The Coffins, as Steve liked to call them, had evolved immensely since their early garage days. More progressive, more melodic, a little doom here and there with clean and harsh vocals alternating during songs. Erica could come up with a blood-curdling scream you wouldn’t think possible upon laying eyes on her.

Steve was sweaty. He had heard this set a dozen times but I still loved it. It was the whole atmosphere. The second song was nearing its end, a quiet part building up into a mean breakdown and Steve received a thump to the shoulder from a tall, broad guy next to him. He looked over, fearing a mosh-pit forming around him - he would never be a fan of that, no thank you - but there just was someone trying to squeeze through to the front row. Steve hated it when the giants refused to let shorter people to the front and he patted the guy on the shoulder and gestured for him to be nice and take a step back.

‘Thank you,’ the newcomer mouthed at him and turned to the stage, eyes wide, sweat streaming from her forehead. She pressed her hands to her chest, mouth hanging open and Steve took a look at the stage, then back at her; her gaze was following Eddie around like he was a god she was here to worship.

“Oh my god!” she shouted into the small space of quiet before the breakdown hit. Steve couldn’t stop staring, this couldn’t be just any fan, right? She had slid her feet in between the bars of the metal barrier separating the crowd from the stage and pushed herself further up, face completely enraptured.

Eddie pushed over his mike stand - that happened all the time - and as the last notes faded out, he hooked one foot under it and flipped it up, catching it with his fret hand, grinning into the crowd as his little trick elicited cheers.

Steve was unsure now if it really was her. He had expected waving and shouting to make herself known but she almost looked petrified, frozen in place, unblinking.

“How are you doing?” Eddie asked and bathed in the rageing response. “Are you sweaty yet?”

Somewhere from the back, a woman shouted: I’m wet for you, Eddie!!!

“Fucking hell, careful at the back everybody, seems like we have a slipping hazard situation.” Eddie kicked at one of his effect pedals and scratched his nose with a grin as laughter and shouts weaved through the crowd. “Very flattering of you tho. Thank you.”

Steve kept glancing at the possible spouse, curious for a reaction.

He was sure he heard a chuckled “charming bastard” leave her mouth and gave Robin a nudge.

“Hey, Rob,” he said while Eddie kept talking to his crowd, “you see her? Yeah, I think she could be… you know.... the one.”

“You think?” Robin put her arm on his chest and pushed him back out of her line of sight. “Pretty.”

A fast rhythmic drum solo announced the next song, one of Steve’s favourites, and she started to move with it, arms raised into the air.

“Why do you think it’s her?” Robin shouted into his ear.

“Dunno, just… watch her watch him— Jesus...” Robin had pushed past him to change places, sending him into the chest of the guy behind him.

Things were wild. People moved with the charging beat of the drums, Erica cornering them with a slapping bass that made her fingers blur before she opened her mouth and screamed like something nightmarish, as Eddie and Jeff hit their strings like madmen.

Steve tried to let it go for a while and allowed himself to be carried away by the force of the sound. Having Robin as a shield helped too and it was three songs later when she reminded him about the matter.

“If that’s not her, I am going to shit. A. Brick.”

Steve prepared to yell a response, just as the flow on stage stumbled, deviating from the familiar sound of this song. Next came sharp reverb and Steve saw that Eddie’s mic-stand was down again. The band stopped as Eddie fumbled with his gear, the cord of the mic had looped around the stand and somehow, his ankle. He kept looking up, smiling like crazy, biting his lip, wiping the sweat out of his eyes with the back of a trembling hand and the no-longer mystery laughed, warm and adoring and totally and utterly smitten with Eddie.

“That’s her, right?” Jonathan said pressing against him and Robin to see something.

“Either that or Eddie is having a serious medical emergency right now,” Robin said.

“Not sure if both aren’t true— Jesus, Munson, just focus for a second.”

She turned, throwing a death stare at him that punched Steve right in the face. Robin and Jonathan waved at her making her frown while on stage, Erica finally had helped Eddie out of his turmoil and his amplified voice drew her attention away from them again.

Robin laughed. “Protective.”

“Sorry about that, folks.” Eddie joked. “Just had an out-of-body experience.” He pushed the mic away from his face, turned to her and mouthed a small "Hi" that was so sweet that Steve felt a little guilty.

“Let’s make sure to give one to every single one of you before you leave this place. Jeff, hit it!”

The rest of the show was a hot, blasting blur. Eddie was on fire and everything around him was catching. For all Steve knew, he had an audience of one and it almost felt surreal how an event with so many people could make him feel like he was intruding on an intimate moment between lovers.

Erica announced the last song and it left everyone breathless and exhausted. Nobody here looked more like a mess than her. It was almost obscene.

The band thanked the crowd while Jeff tormented his guitar with one last long distorted note and then people screamed their lungs out, already demanding an encore.

Eddie put down his guitar, smile wild and blazing and hopped off the stage. Everyone craned their necks as he crossed the small trench and slammed against the barrier into waiting arms. People around them lost it when Eddie took her face in his hands and slid his tongue down her throat without hesitation.

“Holy Shit!” Robin squeaked.

When Eddie finally drew away, he peppered her face with small kisses, muttering inaudible things that were only meant for her ears.

“I gotta go, I gotta go…” Eddie chanted, still coming back for another kiss again and again.

“Go!” she laughed and stopped him from keeping on by pressing her hands on his shoulders.

“One more… just one more, promise.”

“It’s never just one more, Gomez.”

Eddie nodded, turned, made two steps and then spun back around to steal one last kiss from her smiling mouth. He jogged back to the stage, pulled himself up and joined his delighted bandmates to go backstage.

“Excuse me,” Robin said, pushing the giant away like he wasn't three heads taller than her. “Coming through, thank you.”

Jonathan shrugged and followed Robin and so Steve did the same.

Robin said her name very carefully when she approached, but there was nothing hard on her face this time, Steve could only see sweet bliss in those eyes.

“I’m Robin, a friend of Eddie’s.”

“Oh!” she cheered and gave Robin a surprisingly enthusiastic hug. “Great to finally meet you.”

“I’m Jonathan, hi!”

“Ah, the genius with the black and white film. I need to talk to you sometime.”

Jonathan rubbed the back of his head and blushed. “Don’t know about genius, but thank you. And sure, anytime.”

“You’re Steve, right?”

“Uhm,” he stammered, determined to not make a bad first impression, no matter his feelings. “Yeah, that’s right. Great to meet you.”

“Seen pictures of all of you but it’s not the best lighting in here and I was a little distracted…”

“We noticed,” Jonathan chuckled. “You liked the show?”

She shook her head like someone stuck in a dream, pressed her hands to her hot face and giggled. “Sorry, I feel kinda high. You probably think we’re insane… we know…”

“No, no!” Robin stopped her. “I think it’s pretty adorable.”

“Right! Eddie is a great guy, he deserves his sickly sweet romance,” Jonathan said with a pat to her shoulder.

“Yeah,” Steve added, not all the way there yet but less worried than before. It was hard to stay so sceptical in the face of such intense affection. “He really does.”

—

Eddie downed the contents of a small water bottle while quickly marching down the corridor that led out of the backstage area. He felt some spillage dripping down his chin and to his shirt which was already plenty sweaty. Shit, he was shaking.

This must have been the longest encore he had ever played and he felt a little twinge of guilt in the back of his head to leave the band with packing up their gear but he had to get his hands on you soon or he would probably combust. He’d been worried about different possible scenarios that caused your delay and his heart had almost leapt out of his chest when he finally saw your face in the first row.

It already was like ecstasy, every time he saw you, but seeing you cheer for him, dancing and lost in his music. Shit. He hadn’t lied when he had spoken about an out-of-body-experience.

The big double door in front of him opened and in walked Steve, then Robin and then Jonathan, talking to you. You had already found his people. A weird kind of gravitation was at work here and it pulled at his bones now.

“Sweetheart,” he called out, still too fucking far away.

Your head turned and your eyes widened when you saw him; would he ever get used to that?

“Eddie,” you sighed and he knew you were just as desperate as he was. You rushed past Steve and Robin, taking up speed as he stopped and opened his arms for you.

“C’mere!” he half laughed half groaned and welcomed the slight pain when you smashed into his chest. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pressed his face into your hair that smelled like jasmine and sweat and you. “You’re here.”

“M’ s srry,” vibrated against his collarbone and he pulled back a little.

“What was that?”

“I’m so sorry I was so late I—“

Eddie cut you off with a kiss. He needed to taste you and you were here now so words could wait for a little longer. He felt a little tight in his pants and he held on to your face like in fear you could fucking float away. You were spoiling him, nipping at his lip, soothing the pain with a soft lick.

“Oh my fucking god, Eddie…” you whispered, forehead pressed against his and he answered with a soft moan. “I have no words right now, not sure if there are any… you… you’re… just…” You softly thumped your fists to his chest, straining to find something to say that matched your emotions.

“Just show me, hm? Show me how I make you feel?”

You nodded your head still cradled in his hands, eyes shining so bright and all for him. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you kissed him again.

“You think we should leave?” Robin said approximately three galaxies away.

Eddie pulled himself off your lips with every ounce of willpower in his body. “My friends! We meet you at the bar in ten…” he looked back at you, grinning not taking his eyes off of you when he resumed speaking. “In twenty minutes.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut

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