#i was about to sexualize him aggressively

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (part 10)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds 📍

Part 10 Good Deeds

Alastor takes you out as promised, but work/hobbies call him away. Not that you mind, you have your own hobbies to pick up.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem!Reader, references to racial violence, reference to a word that’s now very much a slur, Hate for Aubrey, inaccurate portrayal of how easy it was to drink, oh yeah murder, mentions of a dismembered body, bloody shoes, physics hijinks with a corpse, these idiots in love, gators aaaaaye baby, domestic fluff?? Kind of?? Did I do it?!」

I think about Emmett Till often. Though his heinous murder came after the time this story is set, what happened to him wasn’t an isolated incident. So it is referenced here in a sense, because I can’t stop thinking about him when I think about racial violence in the south both what it looked like before and what it looks like now. I don’t say anything explicit and change the act, but it is still important to warn you. If you don’t know about the tragic death of Emmett, here’s a site with links to articles and essays. Be careful, it is awful and his deceased and battered face will come up on some links, as his mother wanted the world to see what they did to her baby. It’s an image I cannot forget and I rightfully shouldn’t. I know it’s off to have such a heavy topic before this love story but this case is the kind that would motivate such a killer as Alastor, and I don’t want to miss an opportunity to remind us of Emmett’s short life even if it’s done in a silly fanfic surrounded by nonsense. So forgive me for perhaps an odd real life addition, I’d be disappointed in myself for not addressing it when Emmett has been on my mind every time I think about the era someone like Alastor could have lived in. An era that did exist and people did live and suffer in.  An era not far removed from us, my father was alive when this happened.

Part 10 - Good Deeds

minors if you interact I will interpret that as a deep hate for me as a person so MDNI 👌🏼

“I’ve got to speak with the valet, go on ahead and find a table you like.” 

You didn’t want to do that at all, but knew Alastor wouldn’t ask if he didn’t want it. Well, he didn’t really ask, did he? He was certainly in his element, the shining and towering hotel every bit as pristine as his own public image.

It was as if every head in the room spun around to look at you. Everyone’s hair freshly styled, jewelry shiny and heavy, clothes immaculate. Your dress was lovely, no doubt, but no one looks at the elephant in her tutu at the circus and proclaims, “A ballerina!” This was, rather obviously, not your scene.

Alastor had presented the dress to you so sweetly, though. You woke up to find it hanging on the closet door hook, the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. He had either waited for you to fall asleep to hang it or woken up before you for just the reason. It was red, his favorite color for you. The latest fashion, loose and straight. No corset. The neckline showcased a large, flat bow. 

“Partly a gift for me,” he had said as his hands slid down your sides when you had gotten dressed, “Such softness shouldn’t be hidden behind rigid boning.”

You settled into a large seashell shaped booth, the back coming up and over like you were the speck of sand yet to form into a pearl. The table was small, a glittering pattern under its shiny veneer. Everything was…glistening. Even the darkness past the windows seemed to be sparkling back at you. A few people turned to look you up and down, smiling and beginning to speak to their group before even turning back to them. 

You could wither, or bloom. So you learned back as if you were bored, legs crossed and feet gently shaking with anxiety or boredom, you hoped no one could sus out which. 

It was so odd. In your usual haunts, newcomers were greeted with curious smiles and maybe the tiniest suspicions. You were being picked apart to the bone by sharp stares and even sharper tongues, no matter how silent their jabs were to you. 

“They’re probably jealous.” Your head snapped up, when had Alastor made it in? “They look at you and know, ‘oh, that’s the kind of woman my husband would rather have a conversation with.’” You laughed, you absolutely could have stolen the attention and more from at least one of these women’s husbands.

“Perhaps they recognize these earrings, gone missing from their jewelry box earlier this year.”  You weren’t above accepting a woman’s stolen jewelry. It was her husband's fault anyway, might as well enjoy it. 

Alastor’s finger came to your chin, lifting your face further into the light, “Give em a good look, darling. I want them to eat their hearts out.” The blush that swept across your features was so fierce, the difference in temperature between your cheeks and your arms caused a chill to run down to your shins. He took a seat beside you, scooting up close and flashing that smile. A smile that had you chasing him into dark alleys and grabbing dead men by the ankles. 

A waiter came by, placing a drink in front of Alastor and asking what you’d like. You were so used to being in such spaces with the kind of men who answered for you that you didn’t reply immediately. When Alastor brought his drink to his lips, you realized it was you who was expected to speak. 

“Oh! A corpse reviver please.”

The man smiled and left with a nod. Alastor choked, hitting his chest with the fleshy part of his palm, “That was intentional, wasn’t it?”

You danced in your seat, “I’ve never been somewhere that has the stock for it that I was…allowed to order what I want.”

Alastor set his drink down and leaned back, shoulder pressing into yours teasingly, “I can’t imagine anyone disallowing you a thing.” With a sigh, you reminded him of the things you did to get your marks drunk and off their guard. You were surprised when he nodded like he remembered. “I saw that! You would sit so quietly on their laps. I remember thinking you were much more boring than you had initially made me believe.” You recoiled, and he shot you a look, “Who stalked who first, hm?” 

With a huff, you let it go. You weren’t actually sure the answer to that anyway. Focus let free from Alastor, you began to notice the looks were back. But no longer cutting into you, but wide and devouring. A few smiled at Alastor, some tipped their heads to him and offered a look of recognition. “Aren’t you popular.”

“I haven’t been out in awhile. They’re probably curious.” He took another sip, “Should be, atleast.”

A prideful smile slid up your face. You uselessly tried to mask it by licking your teeth. 

Something that happened when in public with Alastor that was unlike you was the tendency to become small. Not shrinking to provide him space; it was a turning in of your shoulders and touching of your knees in a subconscious effort to curl into a little ball of joy. Actively fighting the tug, you leaned back and opened your chest. An exercise in mental focus. 

“It’s weird. How you can be friends with my kind of people and….well, whatever is happening here.” Your hand waved at the room before you both. 

“My friendship with these people compared to our friends at the dives is…. A light bulb compared to a fire. One was manufactured to fit a need, one exists somewhat naturally.”

Tall and slim, body flat from collar bones to knees, a slip of a woman entered the room and you felt a shift in the atmosphere. Her hair was short and pitch black, fashionable to say the least. A few heads turned, a few upturned lips shifted into sneers. Side glances, hushed words, intentionally heard huffs. You turned to Alastor to find his face was as confused as your own. 

“Who is that?” You said it low, not knowing if she was friend or foe. 

“That would be Mrs. Aubrey Debreaux. Popular socialite and frequent hostess.” A sip of his drink, speaking about her like a character in a novel. “This icy reception is news to me though. She’s usually the life of the party.”

“She’s a real wet blanket now…Your circles seem really fickle. Always a bit of gossip.” You realized as soon as you said it that, well, that was the point. Alastor needed the gossip, and, well, he clearly enjoyed it.

“That’s what the wealthy do. Gossip and pretend the drama is as stressful as someone looking for their next meal.” Swirling his drink absentmindedly, his eyes followed Aubrey through the hotel bar. When you asked if he knew everyone there, he said it was his job to know people.

“Your job is in radio. You host a show, Alastor.” You laughed through your nose.

“Well, my other job.”

“I’d call that a passionate hobby.” Your hand came to rest half on his and half on the booth bench low and hidden, not wanting to monopolize, but he quickly took it and held it on the table. Another struggle to keep your shoulders from drawing inward.

The room moved on, forgetting you both were there and eventually about Aubrey too. Or so you had thought. When you drink was starting to mellow you, you turned to Alastor to admire the view. You’d come to enjoy that silence, the kind that only existed between people comfortable enough to know they didn’t need to entertain each other to enjoy each other’s company.

He was scanning the bar still, elbow on the table as he rested his chin there. From a distance of space or familiarity it could be seen as boredom. But up close and personal, you could see the wheels spinning behind his eyes.

“Golly, when in Rome!” Alastor hooted and grabbed you by the hand with one of his and carried his drink in the other, “Let’s go gossip. Bring your drink.”

He pulled you into a group of four people in a circle talking. They opened and let you both in, smiles warm. A clamor of excited ‘how long has it been’s, ‘how are you’s, and ‘you look well’s.

You’d expected him to ask for gossip like he’d said, but realized that’d be pretty conspicuous. Instead he waited, and when Aubrey passed by one of them rolled their eyes and he had his opportunity.

“What’s that look for?” He asked. 

Everyone got quiet and passed a glance between them. Finally a woman in a beaded dress and finger wave bob piped up.

“She reported a young boy touched her on the street.” Alastor watched Aubrey cycle through the groups as the friend spoke. “Grazed her hip with his hands, made a comment about white women as he did it.”

Alastor’s head whipped back around. “He got taken away that night.”

You gasped, hand coming to your mouth in sincere horror, “Just for touching her? Is he still in jail?” 

The woman’s lips pursed together, no one looking at you.

“Bless your heart. He didn’t touch her and he didn’t make it to the jailhouse, sugar.”

Suddenly the way everyone was looking everywhere but at each other sunk in. 

Panicked, you looked to Alastor. His expression was still, like the calm waters of a deep and foreboding bay. What horrors lie underneath? His tongue wiped across his teeth, and you reached out to take his drink from his hand. The action snapped him out of his daze for a second, expression softening a tad as he nodded a thank you.

If he shattered that glass now, people would remember. And when Aubrey went missing they may recall Alastor’s dramatic reaction. You knew his smiles intimately, the ones that were true and the ones that were illusions. The expressions of joy and the mask for his rage. The smile painted on his face now was nothing short of shallow.

You spent so many days in a bubble with Alastor, shielded by his grace or by the accepting and illegal circles you ran in that you sometimes forgot the reality of life. A dark privilege you hadn’t seen until you were the one looking naive for once. 

That’s right. The world was a bad place, of cruelty and injustice. Not just for you, or for parts of you, or for sides of you. Not just for women with smart mouths or a love of dance. No matter how safe the comfort of your friends and the dark halls you all commiserate in, no matter the like minds and mixed complexions of your peers, you were all just one cruel voice from being dragged into the night. Just a single accusation from being a whispered story in a glittering hotel bar. A headline no one would write. 

And some of you would be mourned more than others. 

You took a second, blinking rapidly to dry your eyes. 

“Apparently, she did it to get Hubert to leave his mistress’s apartment and come home.” A short man whose name you never got took a drag of his cigarette, “Worked. He’s been yapping all week about the state of New Orleans society and the importance of protecting the fairer among us.”

Alastor was quiet still, lips tight. You’d seen the photos in his home. You’d never discussed it, no need. Things can’t become normal if you’re always pointing them out. Plus, that was his piece to share. 

“Glad to see most of us here aren’t too keen to welcome her. I’d hate to have to find another bar.” Someone said, glancing around the room. “George just started making my martinis right.”

“Care to dance?” Alastor abruptly turned his entire body to you with a slick swivel on his heels.

You nodded, offering small polite goodbyes and setting your drinks back on the table before turning to him.

His open palm was outstretched and offering you a dance. You spread your hand over his and felt him hold you firmly before pulling you into him. 

He held you so close, much closer than anyone else on the dance floor. A scandalous lack of distance between you two. Quiet, Alastor’s eyes were distant. You were in front of him but he wasn’t seeing you. You let the song carry on a little longer for appearances before sighing into a smile.

“Why are we dancing when you have work to do? You have your tools.” Looking up at a man was rarely a view you enjoyed but the way his eyes slid down his nose and landed so sharply on you made it worth it. A look that said he’d devour you if he didn’t adore you so much. Your hand snaked behind his back to touch the hidden outline of this trusty little knife. He briefly wondered if this could be considered foreplay, the way he felt your hand on his lower back and running over his weapon. Much more intimate than he’d ever let anyone else be.

As your bodies swayed, the lights slid across the curve of his eyes and lit that bright honey brown color like a diamond twirling in the sun. The facets of his irises mesmerizing you. 

How terribly did you love him? 

How far would you fall for him?

“This would be a long one. You’d be waiting… could be a couple of hours. I need to be out of sight before she leaves.” A chill. Oh, you’d forgotten for a second, Alastor was a killer. He didn’t do it for ‘justice’ alone, he enjoyed what he did. Immensely. His voice had a note of giddiness and anger that didn’t mix well, but was oddly arousing. 

“Correction, I’d be dancing for hours. Drinking. Letting handsome men waste their money on me.” 

“Oh? Can they buy me a drink, too?”

You brought up your pointer finger, “You remind her of her humanity, and I’ll get a man to buy you a drink.” 

He linked his finger with yours. “I’ll need to give her special attention. She’s earned it.”

You loosely understood this wasn’t attention like you’d be given. This was attention that ran opposite affection. 

“I’m not here to be in your way, Alastor.” A quick kiss to your hand, one you hoped no one else saw. While no one here would be bothered by Brady, you still wanted to keep some semblance of confusion on what you two were to onlookers. 

His laugh was louder than you expected, a few heads turning, “Impossible. I’m always going wherever you are, dear.”

Would you never get up again?

“I’ll stay at the bar. If they close, I’ll just go to Beth’s.” Your fingers lingered in his, “Be careful. The best good deeds are done in the dark.”

A kiss to your nose. So gentle despite the topic. You could imagine it, the violent death of a woman. You could hear the sounds. Hers, his, the knife’s. A pang of guilt set in before you could remind yourself why this woman was going to die. A tiny smile settled on your face, he offered you a gentle command in return, “Understood, honey. Be safe.” 

You let him kiss your hand again and bow out of  the dance. You were doing it, it dawned on you as you watched him walk away. Truly kissing him goodbye at the door as he went off to work. The closest you’d ever gotten, atleast. 

He stopped by a group and said some quick goodbyes, apologies for leaving early, and left the hotel bar. 

You knew he had killed women before, Alastor was all for equality, but a part of you worried. Women tend to scream louder, and be heard more often, than men. A man screams and people just…keep walking. What would he do? Where would he do it?

With a sniffle, you let the jealousy of just what he would need to do to get her alone flutter away. Taking a seat back at your table, you sipped your drink and watched the others dance and chat. How odd, they could sway in such large places with big windows and bright lights with no fear of cops. Your scenes were dark, dusty, never seeing the sky. 

“He left ya?” One of the earlier women came by, someone you vaguely remember him nodding a ‘hello’ to at some point in the evening. 

Thankfully you were still quick on your feet. “Well, we came separately, of course we’d leave separately.”

A laughed, “Of course.” She leaned down, touching at your hair for a second, curiously, “Don’t hold your breath. But, it is nice he got you in here, huh? Must be a treat for you.” 

Your own laugh was just as abrupt as Alastor’s earlier, your hand coming to hide your smile. All you could muster was a nod. Yes, you stood out. Yes, you didn’t fit in with these people for many reasons. But, it wasn’t your first time in nice spaces. First time not pressed into a man who’d been made to believe he was more important the whole time, but still. 

It took two more drinks for Aubrey to leave. But there was a problem. As she was trying to bow out of the room, a man kept hooking his fingers under the loose belt of her boxy drop waist dress.

With practiced skill, you took note of where her eyes lingered on him, how her hand came to his arm but didn’t actually press him away. Not earnestly.

The pushy man saw it too, every little soft ‘no’ was a half ‘yes’. And Aubrey seemed to like that. It was almost ironic, given what she had done, how she egged on the younger man before her now by pretending she didn’t want him. His hand landed on her hip forcefully, her hand on his chest gingerly. He leaned in close, she pulled away barely.

The next act was the most classic to women of your era. The false exit.

Aubrey whispered something, he nodded eagerly and his many hands returned to himself.

She smiled at the back of everyone’s heads, as nearly no one would look her way, and she slipped out the doors.

You couldn’t stop yourself from shimmying as you slid from your booth. Barely a step away, you leaned back and grabbed the last sip in your glass. You swished it around your mouth like listerine, and swallowed it. Before you got too close, you pinched your cheeks until your eyes began to water.

You’d just found a way to make yourself useful.

“Whoopsie Daisy!” You giggled, shoulder colliding with the man’s chest as you stumbled past.

“Watch - ooh, hey,” the free hand that had come to keep you from getting closer quickly softened, curling around your waist. The same hand that’d just been on the socialite. You were sure to look up and sigh into him, your breath soaked in alcohol. “You okay, doll? Had a bit too much?”

With glassy eyes you nodded, closing them and letting your head nod lazily, “I lost my thing!” You laughed, hitting his chest.

“Your what? I happen to be a thing.” 

How quickly he forgot his target when easier to pick fruit appeared.

“No, silly!” A practiced hiccup, “my little…”

“Your little…?”

Your fingers wiggled in the direction of your hip.

“Purse!” A beaming grin. He asked if you needed help finding it. “Well, how else am I gonna get another drink!” The hand on your waist fell to your hip and slunk lower. 

“Oh well, I could help ya with that.” He leaned in, looking around first as if he had a secret, “I have a room upstairs.”

You tutted, “No no, I am a married woman!” He lifted your left hand, turning it over in a dramatic search for a ring. “Well, engaged…” you diverted your gaze. He lifted his hand to his brow then and scanned the room like a sailor to the horizon. “He’s working late.” You whined.

Why did his kind of man always want the taken woman? Did they think the chase was more meaningful then? Did they feel like they’d won some tug-of-war with an invisible, unaware opponent?

Maybe they were hardwired to hoard resources.

You let him seat you at the bar, and when he ordered you a drink you asked to know your savior’s name. William.

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Alastor was none the wiser, smoking a cigarette under the streetlamp just off to the side of the hotel awning. He didn’t smoke often before you, but he found the lure of sitting on the porch passing a pill between you both too hard to fight. And soon enough the habit grew from a drinking pastime to just… something to do with his hands.

As Aubrey appeared, waiting for her driver to retrieve the car, Alastor tossed the butt to the street and walked up on her.

“I’m quite cross with you, Aubrey.” His tone was smiling as his hand slid behind her neck and tugged her away from the safety and lights of the awning.

“Oh! Alastor, I’m actually waiting for my car.” She struggled to keep up with his pace in her heels, weakly pointing back to where the valet had stood earlier. She resisted a little, the palm on the nape of her neck silently shutting her down.

“Nonsense. We have business together.” Alastor let his hand fall to her upper arm as he yanked her into the closest side street. “I hear you’ve been a very bad girl.”

Aubrey huffed, pulling back against him once, then twice, but ultimately acquiesced when she could see his car down the street.

“Fine, you can drive me home then.” A misplaced giggle, her survival skills dulled by ego.

He tossed her roughly against the car, hand gripping her face tightly. She tried to say his name, but his hold was so firm her jaw was locked.

“You’re going to get into my car now.” Alastor’s eyes had lost their pupil, an expanse of a seemingly endless dark brown in the heavy shadows left by the lamp’s light. When he let her face go, she rolled her eyes and pulled open the back seat door.

That wasn’t what he had meant, not there, but he closed the door behind her and got into the driver’s seat. He hadn’t brought the tarp tonight, not expecting to need it, so maybe the backseat was his best option regardless.

When he pulled away, she reminded him he didn’t know her address.

“I’m not taking you home. I told you. I have a bone to pick with you.” Alastor found himself incapable of putting on a ruse for her. His patience was entirely lost in his unraveling anger.

“Oooh? A bone, you say. Well, well.” Aubrey leaned forward onto the front seat, hands snaking down his shoulders and chest so she could nip at his ear, “Finally letting me have a ride.”

He had to set his right hand in the darkness of his lap to hide the tremble, a disgusted rage manifesting in uncommon ways. 

As her fingers found the buttons of his waist coat, Alastor struggled to see the road in front of him. His vision was going white, and then red. His blood pressure was so high he was nearly blind. 

And when two hot fingers broached the small space between buttons of his dress shirt and touched the bare skin of his chest, the car came to an abrupt halt. The force threw her into the backseat. 

Alastor slammed the front seat door shut before opening the back and caging her in. “I can’t stand another second of your existence.” She crawled backward, making room for him. “I’m going to fucking kill you.” 

Aubrey settled her back against the opposite door, “Oh, the petit mort.”

His head hung low in frustration, a growled  “No, the big one.” as he raked his fingers through his hair to keep from punching his own car seat.

“So I’ve heard.” She pulled up the hem of her dress slowly.

“For fucks sake Aubrey! I’m not using double entendre!” His hands wrapped around her neck. “Must I really remind you of what wrongs you’ve committed?!”

A brief panic finally came, “Wrongs?? Excuse you.”

He could have sworn the snap in his brain had been audible to her as he lost his last bit of patience.

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“Excuse me.” You settled back into the seat, having taken a bathroom break to down some water in secret. You weren’t trying to actually end up blacked out.

“Anyway,  that's how we secured the riverside house.” William leaned into you. You tried to sip your drink and found it empty, having managed to finish it absentmindedly while he rambled on about himself earlier. As you stared at him you let your eyes lose focus and drift into plans for the morning. You’d like biscuits. Alastor had some sausage he’d picked up the other day, maybe a little gravy and some eggs. It’d be like a Sunday meal nice families ate after church. You assumed. Out of the peripheral of your daydream you saw him tap the bar twice and hold up two fingers. “Charge to 1033.” He said. With the clarity of someone who wasn’t pretending to be drunk you quickly held up three.

William shot you a confused look.

“One for my darling.” He made a show of looking around, the bartender pausing. You gave him a confirmation nod, “Three, please.”

“And is he in the room with us now, Helen? I’m beginning to think he’s imaginary.”

It seemed a fine enough name to give him.

“No! But I made a promise. Or…,” you returned the lean, head resting on his shoulder, “are three drinks a little steep for you?“ With a huff, he pulled out a pair of C notes and set them on the bar. The bartender nodded, reaching for the top shelf. You whistled at the sight. Too much money for the total seven drinks he’d ordered, if you weren’t somewhere Alastor frequented you’d have slipped them under the lip of your stockings when the man wasn’t looking. He was charging the room anyway, the large bills were just for show…

“One reviver for the miss, one brandy for the sir, and a rye whiskey neat for the beau.” The bartender set the drinks down on red napkins. The whiskey sat between you both, and after a beat you realized you hadn’t actually told him what to make for Alastor. And come to think of it, your last drink hadn’t been a reviver at all but a brandy ordered by William.

“Ya know I stood up another woman to help you,” he said it into your cheek, stealing your attention by breaking your line of thought. His arm around your shoulder curled to hold you closer, “Don’t I get a reward for that?”

His breath reeked of sickeningly sweet brandy, the taste sticking to the back of your throat. Your head tilted back so you could look at him down your nose, right hand coming to rest on his thigh.

The heat of his body was radiating through the fabric of his pants and made your stomach turn. How many hot and sweaty bodies had you had the pleasure and displeasure of touching?

A smirk painted your face, remembering seeing sweat sticking to Alastor’s forehead the last time he fucked you. What had you done for that reward? Ah right, the somehow shocking act of not withholding praise for how well planned out his greenhouse was. How impressive he was to you in so many ways. You could have lingered on that recollection, on how Alastor set down his coffee and kissed you. And how he didn’t stop until you were both left undone and flustered. But movement stirred away the pleasant memory to bring you back to an unpleasant reality.

His hand roamed down your arm, uncomfortably warm palm on your exposed skin. 

“Oh, I know you did.” You said.

William chuckled, absolutely no idea what you were talking about and not particularly giving a shit. “Did I mention I have a room here?”

“Ten thirty three.” You repeated. 

He looked genuinely shocked, “How’d you know that?” The man was absolutely mystified.

“I— you just…,” your mask slipped in the face of such abject stupidity, “Lucky guess.” William drank his brandy slowly, mentioning you should bet on the ponies together. You nodded. 

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Alastor didn’t care for strangulation. It took so much time and wasn’t particularly satisfying. No pleading, no screaming, no blood and gore. Just…. someone flailing beneath you and turning purple. Boring. 

He brought up the accusations before he began to squeeze, and her panic transformed to relief. “Oh that?” She tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down, “Are you really miffed at me about that?”

“Yes, Aubrey! You condemned an innocent child to a horrid death!” His hands loosened, all of his neurons firing off to feel pain in his own heart. 

She rolled her eyes, “I wouldn’t call them children. You seem so upset, hun. Did you have a mam-?”

The rest of the word was barely squeaked out of her, he couldn’t let her finish it. He wasn’t sure what face he made. But whatever it was, it scared her. The carefree way she’d been handling the interaction finally died, and he could register actual fear in her eyes then. 

But the rage just … withered. How many children had his mother loved and doted on before her last, much kinder position? How many Aubreys had she raised. It was nothing short of an overwhelmingly violent sadness that laced his finger together around her neck and tightened, the full weight of his body coming down to crush her airways. He wanted such sentiments to be smothered out of the world like the air in her lungs. If he killed enough, could he make a dent in their influence? He could try. For her. For his mother. 

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“Ya know, I could take real good care of you. If that’s what’s stopping you from coming upstairs.” 

With a deep breath, you gulped the drink halfway down. “Your fella doesn’t need to know. I could even get you your own place, you could wait for me there when he’s late with work. Have dinner ready. Slip off my shoes like a good girl.”

“Trust me; you’ve got a better chance of her smacking you with your shoes than slipping them off like a maid.” Alastor was resting his elbow on the bar behind you, head leaning on his hand. “Hey doll. That one mine?” He pointed at the glass.

“Oh? Alastor is the fiancé?,” William gave off a snide laugh as he was interrupted, Alastor standing up and walking to come between you two, “This guy?! Everyone knows he’s a frigid bitch. You must be a dive alley-cat if you’re—,” Alastor’s fist connected with the man’s jaw, eliciting a sickening crack. He needed both hands to keep himself from falling down with William as he was knocked back out of his bar stool. Alastor’s feet slipped on the spilt brandy, causing him to seize the stool for momentary support.

Alastor took the glass of whiskey with his non-dominant hand and downed it. He cooed, “Top shelf, Georgie?” The bartender nodded. “Good choice. Picked a worthy sucker, sweetheart. Ready to peel?”

You watched William try to stand, glass stuck to his palm. He did manage to get on his knees, shouting at the staff who stood motionless and unphased behind the counter. They didn’t say anything at all, oddly, until Alastor extended his swelling hand to you.

“Have a good evening, sir.”

Alastor flashed his signature smile and guided you out of the hotel bar. You only got a few steps before quickly running back and snatching one of the 100$ bills from the counter. William would’ve taken it back from the bar anyway. What a waste!

When a waiter offered Alastor a warm and familiar look you had to wonder, did people really not know what he did in the darkness of the New Orlean’s alleys? Did a part of them not feel some kind of debt to him? Or was he just painfully friendly when socializing?

“Just to be clear,” Alastor let the doorman open the lobby door, “It’s not the accusation of sex work that compelled me to sock him. It’s the implication you’d be cheap.” He waved the valet from the car and opened the door for you, “If you chose to sell your companionship at true worth, his daddy’s money couldn’t even buy him a kiss.”

“Aww,” you smiled at him through the thin windowpane, “Would you really be so cavalier about such a job if I did?”

“Would I? Gosh that’d make retirement much quicker for me.” He slid into the driver's seat and the door shut with a sharp ting. As he took hold of the wheel he reclined to let his hand settle behind you on the backrest, and then you three were off. 

“Oh by the way, Aubrey’s in the backseat.”

You turned slowly, first coming into view were her tiny, shining silver shoes. Your eyes kept traveling; stocking covered calves and then the bottom of her dress just past her knees.

Alastor’s coat draped over her torso and shoulders caused you to flit to him, confirming his jacket was gone, and back to her. 

Her face looked like that of a sleeping passenger. 

No blood.

When the car was a few blocks from the hotel, you leaned back and lifted the jacket. Her abdomen was clean, the white of her dress pristine. At first her neck seemed clear of cuts or abrasions until you rode past a streetlamp and a beam of light revealed the slowly forming collar of bruises.

Special attention.

For a hair of a moment you began to gently cover her again, before remembering her crimes and dropping it on her unceremoniously.

“Trunk not good enough for her?”

“Got interrupted. Booked it back to you.” He shook his head and patted the seat in tandem.

What luck that just as he felt sure she was too far gone for revival, he let go over her neck and sat up in time for someone to notice him. Fishing in his jacket draped over the seat, he found his cigarette case just as—

“What exactly are you two doing?” An officer was flashing his light through the passenger side back window.

Alastor froze, Aubrey motionless between his legs and a cigarette dangling unlit between his lips. “You startled me, officer! We were just canoodling. But she’s gone and fallen asleep before the main event.”

The officer’s brass light shone down but couldn’t reach the dead woman’s face past the shadow cast by the car door and glass. “She alright?”

Alastor’s eyes drifted down to the deceased socialite, “Truth be told sir, she’s had a bit too much of the giggle water.” Fishing your lighter from his waistcoat pocket, he lit this cigarette before setting the jacket over Aubrey like a gentleman.

“Alright y'all better get lost. Tell your moll this ain’t ladylike.” The officer tapped the window with his knuckle and when she didn’t stir just left with a huff.

Alastor was quick to leave the backseat and drive off, circling around at the next block to head back to the hotel.

“Is… everything alright?” You asked, very obviously concerned.

“Peachy! I just said we were necking before she passed out drunk.“ he leaned over and kissed your cheek, “Anything exciting on your end?”

Patting his leg you beamed up at him, “Always so quick on your feet! I don’t know why I worry so much.” His face lit up and you wanted nothing more than to launch into a praise filled rant that fueled his smile. But, you moved on to the question at hand. After a moment to think, you remembered ‘the best good deeds are done in the dark’. “Nope! Just got tipsy on William’s dime. An odd woman did touch my hair…,” you recounted every second, leaving out why you chose William, to Alastor. You hadn’t meant to, and he hadn’t actually asked, the evening’s events just seemed to flow out of you. The way he always added little comments and nodded made it feel like a conversation and not just you rambling. 

When the car was pulling into the driveway, you asked Alastor if you could drive it behind the house. Puzzled, he put it in park and let you sit between his legs. You started slowly, but quickly began to accelerate. As you approached the house you turned sharply to the left, right side tires ever so slightly leaving the ground. A sharp correction to the right to straighten out. One of his hands clutched you at the waist, the other gripping the seat.

He tried to form some kind of words but they came out a jumbled and panicked mash of sounds as you barreled toward the greenhouse. 

You slammed your foot on the brakes and Aubrey flew off the back seat and hit the floor with a loud thud.

“Ha!” You slapped the wheel, “I’ve been wanting to hear that sound the whole drive!” 

He used both arms now to squeeze you appreciatively, “You’re just the bee’s knees.” Alastor nuzzled into the back of your neck, truly feeling his heart flutter. You made him skip a beat. So many days and nights not even imagining such a pairing.

The best scenario he could think up was a partner who wouldn’t ask questions, who didn’t care to know, who was maybe a little too naive but otherwise capable. Even in his wildest dreams he hadn’t dared to think someone would exist who could support him.

And not just in the killing, which was a hurdle of course, but the other parts of him. The little sacrifices you made for him without complaint. 

What did he do for you, he worried. Your body was his on the occasions he wanted but never did you ask for him. You shared the housework equally. Yes he drove you around but your skills with the car were still new. Insignificant things, like making your coffee when he awoke first and waiting for you after work. With the detective still looking for connections, he couldn’t even properly introduce you or flaunt you around to his circles.

Like a flash of lightning taking down a tree, insecurity shook him. What on earth was keeping you there? Of all the people in New Orleans, how was he any more worth your time than the next?

If anything, he was nothing short of troublesome. His hold on you twisted from thankful to desperate.

Even the lovely evening out he had promised you, he’d left you alone in a strange place. A stranger had bought you more drinks than he had. 

“Would you like to go to the woods with me tonight? To dispose of Aubrey?” His lips swiped across the fabric of your dress as he said it.

The sudden advancement into his hobby took you by surprise. You hugged his arms against you, “Really? Are you sure?”

“If you don’t want to…”

“Is that what I said?”

“Well, no….”

“Don’t put words in my mouth! I absolutely want to go!” Your arms squeezed his.

He chuckled into your shoulder and gave your hip a pat, “Let me get her packaged up. You go rest your feet and I’ll come get you when I’m ready to go.”

You watched from the kitchen, the light he hung from the greenhouse ceiling setting the entire space aglow. When he finally emerged, his sleeves were rolled up past his elbows and his hair was falling into his face, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose before he could push it back into place. He waved from the porch, and when you made it out to him he was already pulling out small bundles.

“We’ll bury the pieces in separate places.” He dragged out a small trash tin with the lid already clapped down. “And this goes into the water.”

The packages were like Tommy’s, but smaller. They fit easily into the trunk, and beside them he snuggly fit the metal bucket.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The Ford was parked down a dirt road far from sight, taking a parcel at a time and a shovel, you followed him into the woods. 

You had to ask, why not just his land? Wasn’t that safer? Easier?

“Well, a skull found out here is easier to act shocked about than on my property.”

The ground was still soft, but you could imagine it was rock solid in winter. “Isn’t this dangerous? Aren’t you slowed down in the colder months?” You kept your eyes open wide, adjusting to the pitch black of the forest. The trees were too close and too full still to see the stars. But soon they’d brown and die, revealing the sky’s light. Revealing Alastor.

“Eh it’s mostly busy during mating season because the hunters come out in numbers. But in general I avoid being here in the very early morning hours.” He paused and you reached out for the shovel for your turn, “It’s not too bad overall.”

“They mate in fall. It’s almost fall now.” You widened your stance for balance and began to dig. 

“Yeeees but I’m not alone!” He chirped.

“Fine… just, don’t come out when I’m not able to join you. Just wait or, I don’t know, burn them or something.” You tried to dig fast, wanting to spare his injured hand another turn.

“Very ineffective, brings too much attention and the body never burns all the way. It’s still identifiable in many cases.” Alastor said it quickly, as he’d had nearly a lifetime to think of these things and test them. 

You huffed, “Well, fuck. Okay. Still.” You leaned over and offered your index finger, not looking at him as you did. He laughed before wiping his hand clean on his pants and hooking his with yours. 

A small scream erupted from you, startling him. Your short heel sunk into the dirt when you leaned to lock fingers. The sudden loss of balance startled you. “Sorry… flat shoes. I need flat shoes…these are gonna be the death of me.”

Alastor’s hand came to his heart, pounding in his chest, “Of us. My heart nearly stopped.”

You dug many holes, all of them quite small in radius, just wide enough to slip in what you needed to. After each was deep enough by some standard you didn’t know, he would untie the twine around the package and let the contents spill out and down into the little cylinderical pocket of dirt. 

The first package had her hands. Then next was her feet. Her arms in pieces and then later her legs. The hips, the chest and shoulders, and finally, her head. You were grateful for the darkness, not wanting to see her face now that it was no longer attached to her body. 

The brush was so thick and the woods so dense that you found it hard to distinguish the burial spots once they’d been filled in and covered up. He explained most people came out there with a purpose, not really noticing some disturbed dirt here and there. It’s not like they’re people sized.

“You’re just something else, ya know that?” You said it into the shadows and didn’t see him wince. But you somehow, accidentally, knew to clarify, “I’m always so impressed by your way of doing things. You’ve really thought it out well huh? I know I should worry less but it’s hard.”

Because of the shade you didn’t see the way his shoulders relaxed. You never made him regret your inclusion.

Alastor carried the bucket as you slowly made your way through the darkness. You could hear the sounds of bugs, though you couldn’t see any.  The water surprised you, his arm coming to stop you from walking into the bayou.

“In winter they’ll get really still, so I slow down then too. But we still have time, it’s not too cold yet for them.” He took off the lid, the smell of copper blossoming from the tin.

With practiced moves, he tossed the viscera as far as he could into the small inlet marsh of the river. 

Within seconds the water frothed and rolled with the snapping of powerful jaws.

“Gosh they’re so neat.” You said, reaching out into the darkness for his hand. You couldn’t see him looking at you as you watched the prehistoric animals dispose of his crimes.

He wanted to kiss you. To confess every little happiness you filled his formerly hollow chest with. But he held back. He knew better. He’d tried before, once. When he thought settling was better than nothing. It ended terribly. It was better to just exist beside you for as long as you’d entertain his company. If you knew, he thought, of all the futures he imagined with you, you’d just feel tied down by his hopes. You weren’t a small bird he could hold in his home. 

You promised to not get in his way. The least he could do was not cage you with his love. He wouldn’t hold you back.

“Alastor.”

“Yeah?” He said dreamily.

“I think… ” You fought the urge to scream at the sensation between your toes, “Aubrey dripped into my shoes.”

Alastor yanked the bucket away from you, the angle he haphazardly held at it with a single finger to hold your hand having caused the liquid remains to leak out.

“Ankle boots. Ankle boots, no heel.” You muttered, the shoe rinsed off in the water with a paranoid speed now squishing under your sole. The action was enough to draw attention to your shore, long and round snouts moving toward you in the night as you got rid of Aubrey. It was time to go. 

The drive home was dark and silent. The bucket and tarps rinsed with the gas can full of water he always kept in the oversized, custom built trunk. It had taken longer than you had realized, which just brought up renewed worry for his sleep schedule.

When you finally made it home and into the bedroom, he mumbled it was too late to shower. A coordinated grumble between you that you’d both just wash the sheets in the morning. Alastor sat on the end of the bed and bent down, your hand coming to his shoulder to stop him. 

Exhausted, aching, and quite confident you smelled of sweat coated dirt with the tiniest hint of dead Aubrey mixed with alive William (blood and brandy, respectively), you lowered yourself to your knees. You untied the waxed laces of the right shoe, made of a shiny brown leather, and slipped it off. 

Alastor felt his throat tighten as he had to blink to keep tears away. You always seemed to listen when he spoke. Really listened, even when he was just being playful. Another tiny sweetness piled onto the mountain you were currently burying him under. Another ounce of inadequacy tipped on his self measured scales.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Hush, I don’t have to do anything.” You said it and he laughed breathlessly knowing he’d heard it before and praying he’d hear it forever. “I want to.”

You set the left shoe beside the right. When you didn’t stand but instead stared at him patiently, Alastor undid his pants and lifted his hips to push them down. You folded them neatly beside his shoes. Feeling up his legs as if you couldn’t see them there in front of you, you found his sock garters. 

“Keep the socks, please. It’s getting chilly.” He undid his shirt and folded it on his lap. 

When he was in just his underwear and socks, you looked up at him and wondered if he knew. That this was the closest to expressing “I love you” you had ever been. The act itself perhaps far louder than any words could be.

Sitting back, he patted between his legs like he had in the car. As you sat, he undid the buttons down the back of your dress. Why were so many women’s clothing items made in a way that required two people?

In the mirror above the dresser you took in the sight. When the dress fell to your waist he kissed your shoulder and met you in the reflection.

“Quite a pretty couple, if I do say so myself.” He rested his chin where he had just kissed and smiled at you. “What did I do to deserve your attention?”

“Affection,” you corrected. “Aubrey got attention.” He nodded slightly. “I think it’s karma.” You watched his brow arch. “You’ve earned me. Whatever that means, or looks like. We were put together for a reason.”

It was the sappiest thing you’d ever said and a year ago you’d have laughed in someone’s face for saying it. If a character in a novel spewed it out in a confession you’d have closed the book. But you meant it. Every single word was part of the fact this was supposed to happen. The idea that any timeline existed where your paths never crossed gave you the shivers.

Alastor closed his eyes, exhaustion catching up quickly as comfort opened the door for it. That didn’t make any sense to him at all. Why would anyone, god or the devil, give him something good just for the sake of being a good thing. He was very plainly bad. There must be a catch. That fear he felt before, the fear of wanting something too much, reappeared. Turning its ugly head to him as if called by name. 

Why? He could feel something, someone, setting their sights on him. 

When he opened his eyes, you were there still, looking at him. A smile too sweet. He felt the compulsion to tell you to run. That if this was his karma, it would end the way he deserved. And he didn’t deserve happiness. He didn’t deserve you.

But instead he leaned down, lifted your dress, and unclamped your garters. He wanted to be selfish. He wanted to cling to what good he had now. Even knowing he couldn’t possibly get to keep it. His fingertips delighted in rolling down the delicate nylon. He watched the red stained end loosen around your toes, a mental note to burn them before he continued his undressing.

“Lift your hips, my love. I’ll get you all ready for bed.” As he pressed forward and bent into you so he could slip off the stockings he turned to look at the you in front of him, “And I’ll keep you warm.”

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

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@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

[kittyit]

One thing I don't like about trans critical spaces is how they are focused on trans women being unattractive and 'cringe.' this is just my personal experience, but I have been sexually victimized by multiple trans women, most of whom passed, many of whom were skinny and beautiful and most of which had high brow tastes and no interest in anime or other cringe topics. one of these TIMs was a serial sexual assailant and I think probably attracted to underage boys, and she was also beautiful and charismatic. Meanwhile, I also know multiple trans women who are good people and don't infringe on female spaces but who are conventionally "ugly", broad-shouldered, and have masculine interests. It also seems like the only thing TIMs criticize about each other publically is being "ugly", large, or fat.

my position has consistently been for about 15 years that mocking someone's appearance is not a feminist act. it simply isn't.

mocking appearance is essentially a cruel hobby, it's primate social aggression we're using our huge brains for. it's really fun, and that's why almost everyone does it. i sometimes do it too, in private, in intimate company, and it's enjoyable. i say this to clarify that despite my position, i don't set myself apart or above from women who do it. i do it too. and it's constant in basically every subculture online. julie bindel actually posted on her facebook recently troubled about this same thing. as you said, it's so common in queer/trans circles too, the long-forgotten 2013 values of tenderqueerism fallen to the wayside. stan culture, politics, just basically everything...i really can't stress enough that in my opinion, it is a hobby

mocking appearances is not feminist or activism. it quite often is anti-feminist. it's kindergarten stuff to not judge a book by its cover. it doesn't matter what a male person looks like - he is still male and all considerations that apply to male people apply to him. i don't need to think a male person has a hideous appearance to criticize him for any of the oppressive acts he's doing. focus on appearance (or other unrelated personal attacks) often takes the sting out of a criticism of someone's character, morals or actions and makes your argument easier to dismiss. and of course the now mocked & dismissed concept that when you rip into someone's appearance, you do friendly fire to anyone around who shares those features. but of course this doesn't matter to anyone because it's 1. so fun 2. we're so used to it 3. everyone is doing it 4. so who cares? (I do. However)

i also just can't really scrape up that much finger wagging anymore at women who do spend a huge amount of time blowing off steam mocking the insane parodies that trans women present as. it's basically evil imaginative play. it's just not activism and acting like it is, as you said, is really detrimental to radical feminism being understood as a feminist way of thought that deeply affects women's lives.

as for the rest of this, have you read pronouns are rohypnol? you do not have to call a serial rapist pedophile you knew she. there is no one here but us, he cannot hear you. i encourage you to free up processing power in your mind, especially if you've survived trans male violence. calling the men who harmed you he can be a turning point in reclaiming your own sense of reality, it was for me

[all-pacas]

Can you talk more about Chase's moral stand in The Dictator and what made him do such a shift? While Chase did care about people outside of his immediate circle at times,it was (almost) always by the way of him relating to said experiences and/or bonding with the patients.

I really don't think it's that complicated. As fun as it is to joke about Chase's utter lack of morals and empathy, that's never actually been true. He reaches out to Foreman in Family with empathy and an offer to go drinking; he reaches out to Cameron in Cursed with offers to do work so she can go home and to… go drinking (Chase has one move). He is very upset when he loses patients in Maternity and Forever (both babies; still). He cries over House's "cancer" in Half Wit even before the hug. He falls very hard for Cameron; he reaches out to 13 in After Hours, his pro-euthanasia stance in Informed Consent is about easing pain. One of my favorite little moments is in Cane and Able: the child patient's parents are exasperated and unsupportive of their son's alien abduction delusions, and Chase makes a point in talking to them, telling them pretty frankly that they need to support their son, even if they think he's nuts. He didn't need to do that. He was absolutely right. When he finds out House lied to the transplant committee in Control, he does rat to Vogler… but he doesn't do anything to undermine the transplant, which proceeds. Generally speaking, he knows right from wrong and doesn't approve of "harming people" (in particular children) or "hurting people." Yes, we mostly see that with the people he does care about, but. He doesn't really like Foreman much. Foreman is often quite dismissive of Chase. Chase still offers to go drinking. Is he the nicest and sweetest guy ever? Nah. But he's not evil.

Where his "lack of morals" comes in is that Chase puts himself first. He's not selfish in the way we usually think of it; he does care for other people, and quite a lot at times. But he's a survivor, he looks out for himself first. The rare times he refuses an order from House, it's because he thinks the risk to his career or license is too high. If a task requires him to go out of his way when he doesn't care about it, he won't do it. If a task leads him into an uncomfortable situation, as in Safe — faced with the choice of revealing to the patient's overprotective parents that their daughter is sexually active, or just billing them for a test and letting them find out on their own time — he chooses the easier-for-him option. He doesn't really care that House is on drugs. He doesn't really care about all the shady things his job comes with, as long as he doesn't risk losing it, getting arrested, or the end result. Lying to a patient? Why not, if it gets the job done. That doesn't mean he's pro murder. It just means he's lazy and pragmatic. Again, the rare times he defies House, it's when House is asking him to do something that is too "high risk" for Chase.

So the thing about Dibala is that Chase actually feels that murder is still wrong. He has morals, and those morals are: don't kill people, it's wrong. He makes it pretty clear.

CHASE: You can't want to kill anyone, especially not your own patient. CAMERON: It's only natural to feel he should – CHASE: No, it's completely unnatural. Only psychopaths can kill other people without having some sort of breakdown. CAMERON: Not when it's justified. Look at soldiers. CHASE: Even when it's justified.

Except the entire episode, all Chase is hearing is the opposite. I'm not saying Cameron pushed him into it or anything: he made up his own mind. But Cameron keeps telling him he's evil and should die. Dibala's would-be assassin tells him, twice, that Dibala is evil and should die and here is what he witnessed and did.

So let's look at the scene where Chase decides to do a murder. Cameron has been going through her own Arc in this episode, passive-aggressively hinting someone should kill Dibala but not making any moves on her own. Dibala gets sick of this and grabs her, challenging her to act, not just talk, but Cameron can't do it and backs down, leaving Chase and Dibala alone.

CHASE: If you touch my wife again, I'll kick your ass out into the street. I don't care who you are. DIBALA: I did her a favor. I showed her her true character. CHASE: She's a better person than you are. DIBALA: She is too weak to act on her beliefs. That is not her fault. Most everyone is. Even my own advisors. My own colonel. All they do is negotiate and debate and sign treaties. They are appeasers. And all the while, we are beset by assassins and traitors, the scum – CHASE: Cockroaches? What are you going to do about them? DIBALA: What is an enemy to you? Some younger physician who covets your office? In my world, there are dangers and bloodshed and death. And that makes you a man. And men make choices. CHASE: And your choice is to send bands of drunk, crazed children to massacre an entire people? DIBALA: Don't ask me questions you don't want to know the answer to. CHASE: I saved your life. I deserve to know what you're planning to – DIBALA: Whatever it takes to protect my country.

Chase is mad: he just hurt Cameron, and more than that, Chase is a little betrayed. He and Dibala kind of got along before this. I wouldn't say Chase liked him, but they bonded. Until this moment, Dibala was polite. He was complimentary. He offered Chase excuses, and Chase probably wanted to believe them. Not anymore! Dibala just hurt Cameron, called her weak, and told Chase blatantly "I'm planning another genocide."

Chase is angry: I saved your life, you need to be honest with me, you shouldn't be like this.

Until now, Dibala had polite excuses: it wasn't his fault, he had bad subordinates who killed people, he made mistakes. Weak excuses, but the kind of excuses Chase probably did believe, kind of wanted to believe. Not anymore! This nice old man has just revealed himself to be planning more murders!

That's what makes Chase act. What tips him past "I'm not getting involved" into "time to do a murder." He spends the entire episode hearing everyone talk about how someone should kill Dibala. And then Dibala betrays his (very misplaced) trust, reveals himself to be just as evil as everyone has said, and even gives Chase a nice little speech about how strength is to act, how to be a man is to make a choice, not just sit back and do what's easier.

It was never a matter of lol Chase is fine with murder, he doesn't care about anything. Chase cares about quite a lot of things. The trick was getting him to care enough to put himself at risk and act.

[baby-xemnas]

cuuuuuute wtf would teenage bepo think law's just catering to him by putting up with his garchus like 'law san is so kind and understanding and I'm so happy to be able to share this with him' while law gets half hard every time bepo touches him like that

YES

bepo definitely would think law is just indulging him, allowing physical affection and not noticing the effect it has on law

and if law sounds weird its just because it must be a little uncomfortable for him still....wow law san is sacrificing his comfort for me...bepo feels bad but he is too happy to hug and rub his face against law he is gonna be a little selfish! thank you law san!!!! you are the nicest!!!

law def gets more than a little excited and wishes that the hugs lasted longer...oh to jerk off WHILE burying his face in bepo's fur...surrounded by his warmth and smell and hearing his heartbeat and his breathing and happy hums he lets out sometimes...what a dream

[eddiegettingshot]

and btw, since i guess i have to keep saying things about my opinions - despite all the jokes i’ve been making about buck and tommy being villains, my issues aren’t actually with, like, buck’s morality or buck as a Person or any of that. my issue from the beginning has been with THE WRITING of the situation, because i DON’T think that buck is a strictly good or bad person (am i complaining about the lawsuit? no!). i just think that he happened to look absurdly bad this time because of shitty, inconsiderate WRITING and STORYTELLING choices re: shock value, buddie/eddie as a plot device, etc. and this is much different from thinking he looked bad solely because of the actual actions he took (which still would have been unacceptable! but the point is that i don’t think he would have taken those actions if it hadn’t been for the sake of the “it was you all along” plot twist at the end!)

[wakeupthemembersofbylernation]

It’s wild how so many people are fundamentally incapable of recognizing queer characters unless they explicitly say the words, “I’m gay” on screen

[pacifymebby]

Men are so relentless I'm having such a bad week of men being relentless men

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

”I don’t want to give Jehovah’s organization a black eye so I have to suffer in silence. Oh the pain! The pain!”

Mhm. Have you ever considered that Jehovah’s organization has given you not one, but two proverbial black eyes, broken ribs, and a concussion over the years; and maybe you should expose them for the abusers they are, if only enough to get yourself help to heal from the abuse you’ve experienced? You’ve got Stockholm syndrome bad, and you’re making it everyone else’s problem. You cared about your abusers so much that you abused me in their name, just because I wanted no part of their organization. Even if I didn’t seek out apostate resources, I wouldn’t have needed them to make my decision to leave because of how much you vented about them to me since I was about five years old. Did you just expect me to stay here and take the abuse like you did? I’m better than that; I’m better than you.

[asmo-cosmetics]

mammon??? mammon obey me???

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ the way of the househusband ❞

☾₊‧⁺...cw : househusband!fushiguro toji x fem!reader, you are megumi's mom, flirting, playful banter, just overall silly and cute domestic life

☾₊‧⁺...lunar's note : just some simple lil toji hcs of him as a househusband! i need some sweet stuff of him without a lot of sexual stuff in it bc let's be real, in a domestic setting he's probably just a big clingy and mildly annoying bear husband

f. toji is never going to complain about being the one staying home, watching over the little gremlin that is megumi. he's got his own ways of bringing in money with that friend of his, shiu, but he's more than content to being the one in the frilly pink apron, cooking for you and the lil' man.

toji didn’t ever expect to get married, especially after how he was treated as a zenin. he didn't know much about love or how to connect with people, let alone you. but when you handed his ass to him with no struggle and a pretty smile on your face at the gym, he knew he wanted you. two years later and a shit load of aggressive flirting, toji ends up with you as his spouse and he wouldn't have it any other way.

so imagine toji's surprise when he's genuinely excited when you tell him your pregnant. he's excited but scared. him? a father? there's no way in hell he has any idea what to do, his own father was nothing but a piece of shit...so what if he turns out like him? but the moment you pop that big headed little fucker out of you, toji can't help but grin, that excitement of being a father and creating memories with this tiny little thing erasing all his fears.

whenever you come home from work, toji's usually in the living room with little megumi, who forced him to take part in the exercise part of his favorite kids show. you don't know how megumi, your one year old baby who still talked in little babbles, forced his massive giant of a father who could kill a man with a look to do 'exercise for baby,' but you know better than to question it when you see the two touching their toes in front of the tv.

sometimes, he's in the kitchen, however, wearing that 'kiss the cook' apron you got for his birthday. toji always wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into a kiss, muttering a 'welcome home’ against your lips before poking your side and going back to what he was doing, proud grin on his face at the little screech he gets from you.

he's started to get better at dodging your hands when you go to poke him back, skirting around the table before going to scoop megumi up. “you would never do such an act in front of 'gumi, would you? what if he starts going around poking girls in their sides, hm? then i'll have to explain to his teacher that his mama can't keep 'er hands to herself.”

toji's got you there...so you back off, opting to press a kiss to babygumi’s little forehead, taking him from your husband’s arms when he makes grabby hands at you. you savor the betrayed look on toji's face, sticking your tongue out at him. he scoffs, rolling his eyes before going back to make sure dinner wasn’t burnt. he’ll get you back for stealing his son from him.

despite what people might think, there’s not really a 'dominant' person in the relationship. when together, the two of you give off some of the most intimidating vibes because of the sheer power the both of you carry. it's not even put off by little megumi, because if he notices his parents looking at you in disgust, he's gonna give you one that's even worse.

toji will never forget the day the three of you went to the grocery store, him in his usual black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, you in one of those same shirts and leggings with megumi in the kiddie seat in the shopping cart, eating from the little snack pack toji made for him. toji swears he walked away for three fucking seconds, and he came back to some...fucker getting ready to chat you up. it’s no surprise anyone that he gets pissed, ready to storm over there and make it clear you're taken.

however, it's clear you don't need him to step in, and damn, you look...really hot telling this dude off, angrily flashing your ring when he wouldn't back off. god, he wishes he could marry you again. toji doesn’t even know what you told the guy, and he's tempted to playfully ask megumi what happened, knowing his lil' man would try to respond in babbles and coos.

“he said you crawled out from the trash, toj, i can't stand for that! he could’ve done you some justice and said you crawled out of the deepest pits of hell, so I had to educate him on that. besides, he called you my boyfriend and I almost punched his face.”  “yeah? hm, i’m glad you didn’t, babe, we don’t want to get kicked out the store.”  “i don’t know, i think an imprint of my ring in his forehead would get the message across.”  “well, next time, how about we just kiss like we haven't seen each other in 15 years? not a fan of showing out to some dude, but i'd do it for you, sweetheart.”  “mmn!”  “right, lil' man? mama's so mean t' me, it's a good idea.”  “gumiiii, you're supposed to be on my side!”

occassionally, when you're at work, toji'll just talk to megumi, the little one nice and comfy on his chest.

one habit he'll never get out of is randomly calling you throughout the day when he's particularly bored and missing you. if you don't answer, toji will just leave you a message, usually about how badly he wants you to come home, groaning about how tired he is but he can't sleep without you in his arms, without you playing with his hair until he falls asleep. he's so in love with you, it's almost makes you dizzy.

you'll never forget the day you come home to toji and baby megumi in the front yard, crouched down around...something. parking in the driveway, you make your way over and see what they're looking at. it's...a kitten and a puppy, two tiny little things playfighting with each other. neither one of them say anything, just looking at the two creatures. you sigh, knowing exactly what this means.

"...give them appropriate names and make vet appointments. we aren't naming the dog 'hot dog' and we aren't naming the cat 'kitten'." "i told you it would work, lil' man."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[norrizzandpia]

HE WON! LAN WON!

Summary: A long awaited win warrants a shouting Y/n, the proud girlfriend of Lando Norris, 2024 Miami Grand Prix Race Winner. Not only that, but also a smiling Lando now ready for questions about their future.

Warnings: LITERALLY NOTHING EXCEPT A SEXUAL COMMENT AND ME SOBBING IM SO HAPPY FOR THIS MAN I DONT EVEN KNOW (also like a theme of marriage and a comment about having children lol)

Note: i was screaming.

Y/n could feel the sweat drip down her back as her hands shook against her mouth. She had come into this race, along with Lando, assuming there would be a P2 secured for him with the new upgrades, but as the gap between him and Max got larger, it became clear it was his time. His time to let go of that stupid record, the one that had crushed him to hold, of having the most podiums without a race win. Her heart jumped every time he rounded a corner, praying to any kind of higher power to not let a safety car or a jittery move made by him ruin his chances again of winning. She couldn’t stomach the thought of that, he couldn’t either. And by the faces surrounding her in the McLaren Garage, she knew nobody else could.

Everybody held their breath, nerves overwhelming them as their eyes stuck to the screen. Could this be it? Could this be the moment where he took the title as race winner?

It seemed so as he rounded the last corner and his triumph resulted in cheers being heard for miles. Y/n didn’t realize the tears falling from her face until Andrea ran over to her, hugging her and wiping her tears with a laugh.

“HE WON!” She shouted in his face, mascara very likely smudging around her eyes. Andrea nodded at her and hugged her once more before moving on to the engineers behind her. Zak was the second person to find her, screaming with her and high-fiving her when she noticed the glistening in his eyes.

“Are you crying?!” She laughed. Zak shook his head, but wiped away the wetness right under his eye.

She giggled, “I won’t tell anyone.”

He chuckled along with her before the moments dawned on her once more.

She turned around to face the engineers, “HE WON!”

They screamed it back at her as if to try and convince themselves of it, too surreal for their comfort. There was a massive group hug between Y/n and the engineers, all of them having seen just how hard Lando worked for this exact achievement.

“Y/N!” Zak screamed from across the room. When she turned around, she found him aggressively waving his hand, motioning for her to come join him in congratulating Lando.

She squealed before taking off, leaving the man behind quickly.

On her way there, sprinting chaotically, she haphazardly facetimed Cisca, Lando’s mother. When the call went through, their two tear soaked faces met one another and they only began to cry more.

“HE DID IT, CISCA! HE WON! LAN WON!” She screamed, fans and bystanders taking out their phones to videotape the cute moment of loud support from the girlfriend of the newest race winner.

Their cameras caught her flying down the pit lane, screaming into her phone with Cisca over how elated she was for Lando. To add to the charm, the videos captured her tripping and almost face planting on the floor from the sheer pace of her legs. Her cheeks heated up in embarrassment, but she was quick to put it all aside as she pushed through the masses of people, waving her phone around and yelling at everyone to move away because she had the mother of Lando Norris on the phone.

Her body was smashed against the railings as his car came into view and her tears only came falling down harder. Andrea, who was standing off to the side and outside of the barriers, ran over to her, moving the tape up enough for her to come under. She gave him a questioning look, “Aren’t I supposed to stay behind it?”

Andrea shook his head, “Lando would’ve forced you to come out of it anyway. Just be prepared for the trample you’ll get when he gets out of his car.”

She laughed and her head whipped around at the sounds of intense cheering, seeing her boyfriend practically fly out of his car and throw himself into the arms of his team. Cisca laughed at it all on the phone, commenting to Y/n about how chaotic her son had turned out to be.

“Chaotic? I think he’s just clinically insane, hate to say it.” Y/n giggled, shaking her head at the truly concerning things Lando had said to or done with her in the years they’d been together.

“WHERE’S Y/N? DID NOBODY GET HER FROM THE GARAGE? WHAT?” Lando’s body leaned over to one of the engineers, the poor man trying to tell him how close his girlfriend was.

Finally, after a few failing attempts, the man just pointed and yelled, “SHE’S OVER THERE, MATE!”

Lando’s head turned, eyes locking with hers and softening. Andrea quickly took the phone out of her hands, knowing she would want two empty hands to welcome her boyfriend with. And just in time because Lando was sprinting to her, screaming about what he had just done.

“DID YOU SEE, LOVE?! Y/N, I WON A RACE! I’M A RACE WINNER!” His volume was deafening, but the way he crashed into her, holding her body to his as she stumbled back, said more.

It was no secret how in love the two were. Having met four years ago in the paddock, they were inseparable ever since. From the small and subtle touches to the strong statements of adoration and love, there was no fighting or doubting the two would end up sharing the same last name. Y/n had been open in the months leading up to Miami that she had begun manifesting his race win, touching many hearts in the process. Posting pictures of her journal with the sentence “Lando Norris is a Grand Prix Race Winner” written over and over and over again, his mirror with sticky notes in her handwriting with the same eight words. She stopped at nothing. Y/n even took to forcing Lando to make honey jars with her, that specific phrase on a small note inside, so that maybe it would “stick to him”. She was completely uneducated in the world of manifestation and rituals, but she liked to think she was somehow involved in this.

Nonetheless, it all paid off as he reeled back, tears in his eyes, and kissed her sweetly in front of many. His kisses were soft and hasty, drawing back every few seconds to plant another one on her mouth. His arms tightened around her frame and his lips rested against the shell of her ear, “Thank you for everything, baby. I couldn’t have ever done this without you and your spells. I love you so much and there are not enough words to express how grateful I am that you are standing here with me today.”

She grasped his cheeks, pulling him back so their eyes could meet once more, and wiped his cheeks. He did the same to her as she whispered, “This was all you. I hope you never doubt how talented you are ever again because of this, Lan. Everyone is so proud of you, we always have been, but it’s heightened today because you deserve this so much. You deserve a lot of things, this is the start of many.” She brought his face closer to hers, their noses touching, “I am so happy for you, Lan.”

The tears under his eyes pooled around her thumbs at her words and he just shook his head, kissing her again before Cisca’s voice was loading emitting from the phone beside them.

“LANDO NORRIS! YOU ARE A RACE WINNER, HONEY!” She screamed, a slight crack from the speaker.

He blushed, “Thank you, mum. I love you so much. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

Adam’s head popped out from the side of the frame, “What about me?!” He said with a smile and Lando only laughed.

The parents riddled off excited murmurs of support and love before Lando was being ushered away.

A slight crease to his forward told Y/n he didn’t want to leave. She squeezed his hand, “Go, Lan. I’ll be with the engineers below while you get your trophy. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your parents have the best view.”

He shook his head, “I want you to come with me, though.”

She sighed, kissing his cheek, “No, Lan. This is your moment to shine. Go savor it, baby.”

His eyes flickered to the man waiting off to the side, waving his hand as to tell him where he needed to go, and back to his Y/n. The woman he had fallen in love with all that time ago, the woman he had been waiting for his entire life, the woman who had been with him throughout this entire journey, and the woman who he was elated still put up with him long enough to see this moment as the love of his life. He wanted her to share in the victory with him, but the pleading in her eyes told him that wasn’t the right decision. She was right. This was the moment he’d always been waiting for. This was his time to take that top step and cement his presence in it by himself.

Another reason why he loved her so much. She always knew what he wanted even when he didn’t.

Kissing and hugging her again, he ran off.

When he disappeared behind the random door that led him to his podium, Y/n turned to Andrea and Lando’s parents, the ones still on the phone with their smiling faces, they all just looked knowingly at her.

“What?” She giggled.

Cisca was the first to speak, “If there isn’t a ring stuffed away somewhere in you two’s apartment, I’ll be damned.”

—

After the champagne spraying and Lando’s eyes never leaving hers from his high podium, the two were reunited in the McLaren Garage.

His hand slid into hers before leaning his heavy body on her, “I’m so tired. That car was hot as fuck.”

Y/n’s fingers trailed up his back before sinking into his hair, tugging and scratching lightly, “Oh? Tired? That’s a shame.”

Lando let out a confused noise, “Why?”

She turned her head so her lips were close to his ear, “Because I was already planning your post race win celebration. The one in the privacy of our hotel room.”

He choked on the oxygen he was in the midst of inhaling, “I’m not tired anymore.”

“Really? The car was hot, no?” Zak stepped into their conversation, having no idea what he was interrupting.

Lando laughed and Y/n just stuttered, “Yeah, he was just saying it was. I think it’s the adrenaline of winning that’s making him feel awake.”

Zak’s mouth fell open in understanding before he stepped closer and patted Lando on the back, “I’m really proud of you, kid.”

The two shared a quick hug and Lando smiled, “Thank you for all the support you’ve shown me.”

When they parted ways and Lando led Y/n back to his car, he turned to her in the driver’s seat. His eyes bore into hers and didn’t let go as he took her hands, “I have never been as in love with anyone as I am with you and you don’t understand how happy I am you’re here to share in this with me.”

She caressed his cheekbone, “I’m so happy to be here with you too, Lan. You deserve this and so many more wins.”

There was something evident he wanted to say, but it was clear he was hesitant. Y/n could see it. Not wanting to push him, she just smiled and clutched his hand, silently telling him she was safe to confide in, that she would never leave him. Her hand holding was a promise of forever.

Just what Lando needed.

“Promise when I get down on one knee, you’ll say yes?” He whispered.

Her mind took her back to Cisca and Adam and Andrea when they all looked on at her as the future wife of their favorite boy. Her cheeks blushed, “I promise I’ll say yes.”

He exhaled a breath, “Thank God. I have a mental list of all the achievements I want to earn in my life and there’s only one thing left on it.”

She gave him a confused look as he started the car, “What is it?”

He looked at her like it was obvious, “Marrying you. Winning a race was on there,” He smiled, “check. Get into Formula One, check. Meet the woman of my dreams,” A bigger smile, “check. Treat her well,” His eyebrows raised.

She laughed and nodded, “Check.”

He dipped his head down, “Exactly. The last thing on there is to marry her - you.”

“Nothing else?” She asked, toying with his fingers as they rested on her thigh.

He moved his head from side to side, “I assume I will add things to it as we go on in life. Maybe have kids with you, that could be fun. But, for right now, just that. I’d like to bask in the happiness of knowing everything worked out in the end.”

She brought his the back of his hand to her lips and kissed the skin, “It always will, Lan.”

They met eyes as he came to a stop at a light and the comforting color of hers made Lando come to the most beautiful revelation of his life.

As long as she was with him, it truly always would work out.

[shutupcrime]

Ranking the Kens in Barbie based on overall ‘kenergy’

1. Ken

- little cowboy hat

- doctor who

- just misses his best friend barbie 🥹

8.5 out of Ken

2. Ken

- less fun lil cowboy hat

- gets to be douche bro president Ken

- related to Chris evans maybe?

- gives Ryan gosling a lil kiss

5 out of Ken

3. Ken

- back flipping Ken

- excellent dancer

- gives serious steal ur girl energy

- possibly the most sexually aggressive of all the Kens (I am referencing his interactions with Ryan Gosling Ken exclusively, the energy was palpable)

- served some mad cunt

9 out of Ken

4. Ken

- possibly my favourite Ken

- always has Ken’s back

- very goofy dancer 💜

- played drums when all the other Ken’s played guitar

- recipient of the holy pimp coat

- almost certainly in love with his best friend Ken

10 out of Ken

5. Ken

- THE Ken

- he’s kenough 🥲

- lost interest in the patriarchy when he found out it wasn’t about horses

- instigated the greatest out of nowhere dance number in a film I’ve ever seen

- buuuuuuuut also enslaved a bunch of women so…

-10 out of Ken (still love him tho)

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Pt III good omens but i STILL SOMEHOW haven't watched it (and i'm increasingly passive aggressive)

i'm now basically held hostage adopted as mascot by this fandom. it's fine i'm fine *SIGNALS FOR HELP DESPERATELY*

Alright fuckers I swear this time I'm going to get some shit right. Without further ado, here's my third attempt at a good omens summary:

Everything everywhere is queer all at once

Angel Aziraphale and demon Crowley on earth likey each other

The car is a bentley and it is BLACK not silver and everyone is very upset about this. my bad yall it was reflecting light therefore i guessed more silver than black but I'm not Anish Kapoor take your black.

Then it is yellow, and aziraphale likes it. crowley preferred the black because he's a flamboyant emo.

God is a deadbeat absentee parent and you are all children of divorce.

There's a naked archangel and they cause problems for the husbands somehow. By being naked? By being an archangel? By being at their doorstep? Who knows not me

They were actually married for 6000 years, they just are the last to know about it.

Crowley is on fire. Like, he's slaying for sure, but also he is literally on fire, like Aziraphale's bookstore.

The actors like I said before are Michael Sheen and David Tennant but this is the place where I finally admit that I don't actually know who is whom. I'm going to assume Michael is Aziraphale because Michael sounds angel-y and David is Crowley because uh Michaelangelo made David and was gay for him.

Terry Pratchett is not fictional.

He co-wrote the book with @neil-gaiman, who IS fictional, because he does not have social media. Several of you have assured me that he is in fact a fandom inside joke. I like to think he would be proud of me.

They adopt a preteen and Crowley gives him bad advice.

At some point a baby was delivered to someone and was exchanged for the son of Satan. Idk if the baby is the preteen, or the son of satan is the preteen, or neither. This could be a fanfic, I have no way of differentiating the fanfic from canon on tumblr, except that the canon is weirder.

Crowley does not go down a chute. He goes down a telephone cord after making himself microscopic to pole dance on a pin with shroom-induced backgrounds.

During this his stage name is Disco Tony. Get it king go slay you're making better life choices than I am tbh.

Aziraphale is a biblically accurate angel, and you have all gone to extensive lengths to prove this to me. I understood nothing, but there you go.

It's all very queer, just like the fandom.

Crowley is a retired demon but he still sins by breaking the speed limit.

They eat at fancy restaurants and bicker but like in a sexual undercurrent way.

Crowley gives Aziraphale a private dance that is not a lap dance, it is an apology dance, but not in a kinky way, until it is.

Their haircuts keep changing and range from 'this is acceptable and gay' to 'i let a drunk chimpanzee take gardening shears and a blowtorch to my hair'

It's all ineffably queer my good fellows

Everyone keeps trying to convince me Neil Gaiman is the villain yeah no guys I know it's really you. Y'all be like 'SEASON TWO BROKE ME' and then you're making headcanons to make it sadder yeah I see you mmhm.

There is a final fifteen. It is sad. What is it? No one told me.

The demon turns goats into crows and the angel turns them back and then children are turned into newts (does the angel turn them back? who cares not yall) and the demon was the snake in the Eden garden and everyone's furry game seems to be on point.

There are a rather lot of children. I have not seen them. But I am assured they are there. They are, guys. I assume they were turned into the alcohol Aziraphale and Crowley drink or something.

There was an apocalypse plotline. It was averted. It is not important. You don't talk about plotlines in this fandom, no sir.

Crowley doesn't want to go to heaven. Aziraphale is sad.

The kiss is not nice, just like this fandom. It is queer, just like this fandom. It is sad and desperate and masochistic, just like this fandom.

Aziraphale doesn't want to stay back with Crowley. Crowley is sad.

Season 2 ends. Fandom is sad.

Everyone's sanity is hinging on the promise of a happy ending in season 3. Good luck guys.

Y'all better appreciate this. I can't even boast to my mother about this legacy of mine, hey mum your son has been held hostage kidnapped inducted into a cult adopted by a fandom he's not part of look he's winning at life.

[margotw10bis]

Better Than Him.JJK [m]

roommate!Jungkook x reader

Genre: fake-dating; romance; smut; one-shot

Words: 19.6k (oops)

Synopsis: When your boyfriend cheats on you and decides to bring his lover to the wedding you invited him to, you take vengeance by pretending you have a new boyfriend: your hot roommate.

Warnings: broken heart; cheating; alcohol consumption; huge sexual tension between those 2 idiots; voyeurism?; masturbating; fingering; bigdick!jk; protected sex

You should have known. The signs were there but you chose to look the other way. Now, you have to face the consequences of your willful blindness.

Because now, there is no "look the other way" option when your boyfriend is standing in front of you and is breaking up with you.

"I'm sorry, what?"

He has already explained the reason but while your ears can identify the sounds coming from his mouth, your brain, on the other hand, has absolutely no idea how to make sense of the words forming the sentences.

Even if Taehyung has a huge craving of rolling his eyes, he doesn't and repeats himself again — he can't really act angered when he is ending a one-year relationship.

"I want to break up with you because I met someone"

The explanation is clear, straightforward, but so raw. Just as Taehyung didn't care about hurting you or that he never actually cared about you.

"Do I know her?"

You don't know why you want to torture yourself even more because you don't want to picture him with someone else. You don't want to picture the woman in his arms, on his lips, underneath him. But you have to be a little masochist because you still ask.

"Does it matter?" Taehyung sighs

It doesn't but maybe you have a faint hope that you're better than her. That he is so wrong about choosing someone over you.

"I deserve to know, don't you think?" Your tone is more hurt than aggressive

"Siyeon" He says after a long pause

Your heart drops instantly.

Siyeon.

The woman Taehyung has been teamed up with for a few months. The woman he told you not to worry about. The woman you saw in his apartment one month ago but he pretended it was a "professional meeting".

You were so dumb to believe it because who the hell have professional meetings at their home at nine pm with a good bottle of wine and candles?! You were so hurt that you denied the truth. Maybe you thought that catching them together would make Taehyung realize that what he was doing was wrong.

You didn't think that he would actually realize that you were the wrong one for him.

Ever since you saw her, you have been insecure because she is gorgeous. More than that, she is confident — something you know you lack and something you know Taehyung absolutely loves.

You feel humiliated. You'll have to explain to your friends why Taehyung is not in the picture anymore and it hurts. Everyone will know what happened. That you weren't enough for him. That he chose another woman over you.

"Now that you know it's Siyeon, you should also know that I'll go to Namjoon's wedding with her" He adds

What?!

That is mean. So fucking mean. Namjoon invited you at his wedding and Taehyung was your +1. And now he is going to the wedding you invited him with another woman, the woman he cheated on you with?!

You can't take it anymore. You want to strangle him and yell at him. You want to find the most painful words ever just for him to feel a third of your pain. But nothing comes to your mind and you only can stay pathetically quiet as the man you thought was the love of your life walks away with your broken heart.

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

Usually, when you come home, you feel soothed. Mainly because you rarely come home to an empty apartment.

After graduating from college, you were like many of your fellows: optimistic about the future but broke. Finding a job took more time than you expected and it was impossible for you to pay a whole rent by yourself if you didn't want to live in a very tiny studio — Seoul has a lot of great qualities but cheap real estate is not one of them. Sharing an apartment became your only option and you spent a few weeks looking for the perfect roommate. Until you found Jeon Jungkook.

To be honest, you didn't want to share an apartment with a man — for all kind of reasons, the main one being that you didn't feel comfortable showing your intimacy to a male stranger. However, as you saw Jungkook's notice, you fell in love with the place. It was luminous, nicely decorated, in a great neighborhood and the two bedrooms were very spacious. With a little apprehension, you met Jungkook so he could show you around your maybe-future-place, and it was even greater than on the ad.

Moreover, Jungkook was sweet and smiling. Very welcoming and you immediately felt comfortable with him. You didn't think twice before signing the lease. You even stayed after saving enough money to have a place on your own.

It's reassuring to live with someone like Jungkook. First of all, he cooks so well. Then, you can always ask him to help you change a lightbulb or refill your car oil. And, most important, he always comforts you when you feel down. He does so much for you that you sometimes wonder what you bring to him...

Yet, you are praying every gods for him to be absent as you're opening the front door. Naturally, it's not your lucky day so he watches you stepping inside with traces of mascara on your cheeks. For once, you wished he was with one of his hookups — it's not something he does much but he is enough of a gentlemen to have sex at the girl's place not to bother you. You have to admit that you didn't take as many precautions as him and you have no doubt he has heard you having sex with your (ex)boyfriend...

"What's going on? Are you okay?" He runs toward you with a panicked face

You blink the new tears away and mumble something like "don't wanna talk about it" before escaping to your shared bathroom. As you look in the mirror, you understand why Jungkook was so worried as he saw you: you look absolutely terrible. Yeah, your makeup is ruined but it's mainly your devastating expression that is obvious.

It's exactly the kind of things you want to avoid when you have to go to a wedding in five days...

The wedding.

Should you go? You're definitely not in the mood. Plus you don't have a date anymore. Plus your former date is going with someone else. Plus that someone else is the woman he cheated on you with. Isn't it the definition of a shitty life?

All of your friends will look at you with pity and you don't want that. You would very much prefer to stay at home and cry over your broken heart with a good vanilla ice cream.

On the other hand, you like Namjoon a lot. He is so great, one of your closest friends. And Tzuyu has become your friend too, she is the sweetest person ever. This day is so important for them and you can't be selfish enough not to go and be by their side. When you spot things this way, being the laughing stock of the party is not dramatic.

And you still have a few days to think about it. You know that your emotions are all over the place so you just have to take a good and hot shower, try to apply some ointment on your poor heart and convince yourself that going to this wedding is a good idea and your only option.

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

Your heart and your brain are not friends anymore.

The whole night you've been through pros and cons of going to the wedding. Your brain strongly defended the pros while your heart advocated the cons.

To be honest, your heart was really convincing, spotting that it's too soon to meet your ex again (and it could be the case for any kind of break-ups), that you're too hurt and fragile right now to face the cheater and his mistress and that you'll have to deal with the humiliation in front of all your friends. So yeah, listening to your heart, you shouldn't attend the wedding.

But your brain had good arguments too. First of all, Namjoon. He was there when, in your second year of college, you couldn't find any place to live. He generously offered his couch for all long as you needed, even though you weren't this close to him in the past because you didn't share any class — a normal thing considering you were a sophomore and he was a senior — and your only bound back then was the Newspaper of the University Club. Then, your brain reminded you that this wedding was more than just that: it was a whole trip with your friends. Namjoon, a well-known romantic, booked a hotel on a beach in a haven of greenery in the Philippines. For a whole weekend, you'll get to enjoy yourself on the beach with delicious cocktails made from fresh-cut fruits, and you'll be able to go the spa of the luxurious hotel. It's an appealing program to be true.

But the argument that convinced you was that Taehyung doesn't deserve to have such an impact on you. He doesn't deserve your tears or any kind of thought or attention. You should do what you want and you have nothing to feel ashamed of. He is the one sporting the shame with his actions.

That is why you're feeling a little lighter the next morning when you head to the kitchen in quest of a warm coffee. You're a little surprised to see Jungkook since he usually goes to the gym at this time "to avoid the crowd and focus on the right moves” — quoting. But he hasn't gone to the gym.

He is leaning against the countertop, his arms crossed on his chest — you try your best not to look at the way his biceps are brought out under his large grey t-shirt — and his black hair is messy. But what catches your attention is his tired face. It looks like he hasn't got any sleep last night and his big cup of coffee almost finished doesn't seem to help.

"Good morning" You greet but you wince at your hoarse voice due to your late crying

"Morning" Jungkook waits a few seconds, watching you fill your own mug with the brown liquid "Do you want to tell me what happened? I'm worried about you"

You sigh and your heart squeezes a little — not because of Taehyung this time but because the lack of sleep of Jungkook might have been caused by you.

"Tae cheated on me and then broke up with me"

A sarcastic chuckle escapes your mouth. When you present things like that, you feel ridiculous to even cry over him. You're pathetic and yet, how can you stop loving someone in just one night? You love Taehyung, you have been for a year.

"Y/N..." Jungkook tries to comfort you but he doesn't quite know what to say

You feel it and give him a faint smile when his big palm gently squeezes your shoulder.

"I'll be okay" You promise him and yourself "If I survive Namjoon's wedding, I'll be okay"

You notice the frown on Jungkook's face.

"What do you mean?" He asks

"He is going with..." You can't bring yourself to say her name, it's still too painful "Her"

You don't have to detail, it's clear enough.

Jungkook tenses and a big wave of anger builds inside him.

"The hell?!" He exclaims "He is such a asshole! He has been invited because of you! And now he is going with another woman?!"

It's exactly what you've spent the night telling to yourself and somehow, it's soothing to have someone by your side. Jungkook has the angry side of your pain and it's comforting. You know he won't belittle your feelings or your pain.

"I swear, I can punch the guy, Y/N" He offers

He looks so serious but it's so out of character for him to choose violence. Despite the numerous hours of box training, Jungkook has never fought someone — that you know of at least. You can't help a laugh at his hero behavior. 'Gosh, he is so precious' You think to yourself.

"You won't punch him. And I won't punch him either. I will just go, enjoy this weekend with my friends and show him that I'm completely okay without him"

"You're sure?" He asks, a little worried

You nod and give him a side hug to enhance your answer.

"I'm here for you" He whispers in your hair before pecking the top of your head

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

Plans have changed.

You clack the front door with wrath as you enter your apartment, shaking the whole wall, and growl when you take off your shoes. You make them fly around you without too much care.

All this noise attracts Jungkook and his eyes widen when he sees you throwing your bag across the room, hitting a lamp that falls on the floor and breaks. Tears of burning anger roll down your cheeks and your heart is pounding so loud in your ears that you haven't heard your roommate approaching.

"Hey, Y/N, what happened?" He gently questions, trying to guess how to act

It's the first time he witnesses your anger. Usually, you sport your disappointed face — a frown and pouty lips. Just like this one time when Jungkook ate the cake you baked for one of your friends' baby shower. Or when he broke your very expensive moisturizer in the bathroom. But you never yelled or appeared angry at him. He is not even sure you've ever raised your voice at someone. You're the kind of person who chooses dialogue to ease conflicts and always tries to see the others' point of view.

But right now, you look like at tornado of furiousness and Jungkook is quite taken aback.

"I swear, I'm going to kill him!" You scream

You really want to punch something, anything. You are so fucking mad. You've never felt like this before and your shaking body due to adrenaline is very well noticeable by Jungkook. He is afraid you'll have a heart attack.

"Are you talking about Taehyung?" Your roommate asks with caution

"This little... shit!" You yell

Jungkook's mouth falls open. Okay, the situation is damn serious because you never ever curse, let alone insult someone. He doesn't even know how to calm you down and he is sure that you could punch him right now — not that he can't defend himself but he would rather much avoid the fury of your delicate fists at the moment.

"He said I cheated! Can you believe it?! I cheated!"

Now, Jungkook understands why you're so angry. He would be just the same in your shoe. God, he is mad right now.

"He said to Namjoon that he would attend the wedding with her for moral support! I can't even believe it!"

Your voice has slowly changed from wrath to hurt and your screams shifted into sobbing. You're a mess. And your heart has broken a second time after Namjoon's call. Sure, your friend didn't believe your ex and he was worried about you. But still, Taehyung said that and you're sure that he has been saying his little story lie to everyone.

"Let me punch him" Jungkook begs, ready to defend your honor

"I wish but it won't be enough" You cry "I want to make him pay. I want to make him feel like the looser he is. Gosh, I want him to think that I actually cheated"

Your brain is going to all kinds of directions, trying to find a way to take revenge. Until your watery eyes land on Jungkook.

Jungkook. Hot, handsome roommate. Great at everything. Completely at the opposite of Taehyung with his tattooed arm, lip ring and brawny body. He is the embodiment of sexiness. And you know that your ex has always been jealous of him. You clearly remember a conversation you've forgotten for a long time.

"You're sure nothing happened between you and your roommate?" Taehyung asked

“Who, Jungkook?” The idea seems so ridiculous to you that you can’t help but giggle “Yes, I'm sure. He is my friend and I don't think we'll ever see each other other than that" You answered, way too in love with your new boyfriend to even look at another man — even if the said man is a sexy roommate who isn't afraid to walk around shirtless

"I have to say that I don't quite like the idea of you living with him" Taehyung pouted

"Why?" You squeezed his cheeks to tease him

"He looks at you funny sometimes"

"You're imagining things, Taetae" You reassured him "We've been roommates for three years. If we wanted things to happen between us, it would have already happened"

"Come to the wedding with me"

Jungkook is looking at you as if you were crazy. Well, you understand. You just came home furious, then bursted into cries and now you have a new, strong determination with fire in your glossy eyes.

“I—"

But you cut him off.

"Pretend you're my boyfriend"

"What?!" Jungkook exclaims, his doe eyes having doubled in size

"Taehyung has always been jealous of you. If you come with me and we say we're together, I'm sure he'll be mad. He'll think I've cheated for real" You explain

You know you sound crazy but you're too angry and too hurt to reason. You just want give Taehyung a taste of his own medicine. It's not fair to Jungkook because he has nothing to do with this whole messed up situation but he is the only one who can help you.

"Don't you think it'll create more drama?" Jungkook points out

He is not wrong but the risks are nothing compared to your willing of revenge.

"Maybe for him" You concede "But I'm sick of his behavior. He can't cheat, break my heart and act like I'm the villain. This is my friends' wedding and Taehyung is doing everything he can to ruin that for me. I just want to be with my friends and enjoy a nice weekend. For that, I need an ally. I need you. Please, Jungkook. We'll just have to hold hands, dance together and it'll be it. And there is a great gym at the hotel, I saw it on the website”

You’re looking at him with those puppy eyes that your roommate can’t resist. It’s an unfair fight, he knows it. He’ll never win against you and he would do pretty much everything you’d ask right now if it means it’ll heal your broken heart. 

Jungkook sighs. Fuck, you know him way too well for his sake. You didn't have to present the gym part, he would already say yes when you ask him to come with you the first time. To be honest, Jungkook has never really liked your ex. He found him too arrogant and a little bit mean with you sometimes. If Jungkook can be there to protect you and help you to get back at him, he is down for it. Spending time with his roommate in another scenery than your shared flat or the grocery store is just the icing on the cake.

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

Step 1 of "Getting back at Taehyung" plan — or "Making him realize that he is a complete asshole and you're too good for him" as Jungkook calls it— starts straight when you reach Incheon International Airport. Your closest friends are here — plus Taehyung and Siyeon — since you've planned to fly together in order to start the celebration weekend right after work. You were lucky enough to find a plane ticket for Jungkook last minute and you had to battle with him to pay — he conceded but promised to pay for the room in exchange.

Only Namjoon and his future wife, Tzuyu, were informed of your new 'date'. That explains the surprised look on your friends' faces and the pure hate on Taehyung's one. You gloat at his reaction, especially at his frown when he sees Jungkook taking care of your both luggages when Taehyung hasn't even thought about helping Siyeon.

"I'm so glad you made it" Hoseok welcomes you with a hug

"Of course, I couldn't miss Joon and Tzuyu’s wedding!"

You greet your friends, carefully avoiding Taehyung and his date, and decide to tease him a little when you introduce Jungkook — something that is absolutely not necessary because they have all seen him already during some hangings out at your place.

"I didn't know there was room for roommates on this trip" Taehyung mumbles

If the others chose to ignore him, Jungkook doesn't. A smirk paints his face and he scoots closer to you, circling your waist with his strong arm in a possessive manner.

"There isn't. But there's room for boyfriends, right love?"

Your cheeks immediately burn. You knew that you'll have to play a role but you didn't expect Jungkook to be this good at it. You're not good at pet names. Most of the times, you called Taehyung by his name or "Taetae" but the words "baby", "honey" or whatsoever have never crossed your lips. You always feel too shy to use them but you guess that the whole point of this is actually to give Jungkook everything you didn't give to Taehyung — honestly, it's not like he's ever deserved it while Jungkook might. Just to show him that he can't compete with your roommate.

"True, baby"

You pat yourself for not stuttering and Jungkook sees your efforts too so he gives you a kiss on your cheek. If he meant to soothe you, it does the exact opposite since you've never been comfortable at being physically affectionate in public.

This little warm up at pretending dating turns freezing when Taehyung turns around to kiss Siyeon on the lips. A bitter taste fills your mouth as you know that he has done it several times when you were still together. Does he like kissing her more than you? This kind of thoughts shouldn't affect you but it does...

"Come on, let's get through security" Jungkook whispers in your ear as he has witnessed the same gesture

You nod and keep your head low in order to hide your pained expression. You're happy Jungkook is with you because he takes care of everything. You just have to follow his instructions and concentrate on not crying in front of everyone.

Thankfully, Jungkook and you are seated a few rows before your ex so you don't have to watch their lovely interactions. And your roommate helps you forget the kiss by reminding you that the whole point of this plan is to show Taehyung that you don't care about him. Jungkook makes sure to choose one of the movies you like on the seat screen and shares his earphones with you.

You wrap your arm around his and rest your head on his shoulder, laughing at the most ridiculous scenes. You don't even acknowledge Taehyung passing by to reach the restrooms. However, the two men share a glance full of male tension. Jungkook watches with a proud smirk Taehyung's jaws clenching and decides to push a little further: he settles his hand on your thigh. As a man, he knows damn well that he would be pissed if the guy he always suspected his girlfriend to have a thing with did that. Jungkook can see in Taehyung's eyes that he suspects him to have touched you like that in the past — the past during which you were a couple and during which he cheated on you.

But this little game is not that important for Jungkook. He prefers giving his attention to you and watches you laugh with a way more tender smile. He hopes that you'll be as happy during the weekend. As least, he'll do his best for it.

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

This hotel is even better than on the photos. It's surrounded by the forest and the beach. There is even a beautiful waterfall nearby. All the walls are made of wood and classic glass windows are replaced by big openings, giving the illusion of being in the nature. It's magical and romantic, which means that it's perfect for a wedding.

Your eyes shine in front of the beauty of your location.

"It's amazing" You say to Jungkook, tugging on his t-shirt sleeve for him to look at the view

You squeak in excitement when a monkey appears in front of you, flying from branch to branch. Jungkook points at a tree, a little further, and you notice the gorgeous white flowers on it. You're not good at botanic but you think it might be a magnolia tree. It's the biggest one you've even seen. You are so glad to share that with your roommate because you know that Jungkook loves it just as much as you do.

"Gosh, Y/N, thank you so much for inviting me" He thanks you

You shake your head.

"Thank you for coming. And I'm sorry you had to cancel some of your customers appointments"

"That's okay, I can reschedule" He reassures you — you guess that it's one of the advantages of having his own tattoo shop — and guides you to the reception

Everyone takes their key and you don't miss Taehyung's upset eye when he notices that you and Jungkook only have one key, which means one room.

And the said room is just as perfect as the rest of the hotel. Wood is everywhere and the rest of the fabrics — bedsheets, curtains, towels — are white. If you had to picture heaven, it'd be it. It's perfect.

The bedroom is spacious, giving enough place for a king size bed, a wardrobe, a large TV and two comfortable white sofas. You explore a little more your room for the weekend until you reach the bathroom. Same wood everywhere with a large walking shower. Perfect. It's so beautiful you could cry.

"I don't want to leave. Can't we just move here?" You ask Jungkook, making him chuckle

"Don't tempt me, I might say yes"

You realize that for the first time since your break up you don't feel in absolute pain. You actually feel good. You don't want to be anywhere else right now. And deep down, you know that Jungkook is partly responsible for that. 

After a quick drop at your rooms to change into swimsuits, Namjoon has proposed to walk around to enjoy the beautiful nature surrounding the hotel. Of course, you asked Jungkook if it was okay for him or if he preferred going to the gym. You don't want to impose him any activity because he has been kind enough to accept this whole fake-dating thing. However, he stated that he wanted to see your surroundings and he doesn't regret one bit.

It's beautiful. Tall trees frame the narrow path to the waterfall. The sound of the water, the birds and the faint breeze in the leaves are magical. The little lake created by the waterfall seems to come from a fairy tail.

Jungkook stays close to you, playing his boyfriend role perfectly. He urges you to be careful and holds your hand. You clearly feel Taehyung's eyes burning your back but you do your best to ignore it, especially when Siyeon wears the smallest and more translucent dress ever. You wonder if Taehyung actually likes this style because it's surely not yours — the proof being that you've opted for denim shorts and an oversized t-shirt.

When you are right next to the lake, you throw an eye at your 'boyfriend' but you gulp when you spot the playfulness in his doe eyes. You immediately understand what's going on in his childish brain and you point a warning finger at him.

"I swear to god, Jungkook, if you do that..."

"Do what, baby?" He replies, with a faked innocence

That's vicious because the pet name takes you aback and you don't have time to react. Jungkook slyly wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up, making your squeak. He is walking dangerously straight to the water so you secure your legs around his torso, just prevent him from acting upon his idea.

"Don't you dare!" You threaten him

"You said you wanted to go for a swim" He teases, pretending to drop you but immediately holds you tighter

"Jungkook!" You scream, burring your face in the crook of his neck

His airy laugh is contagious. You're happy he's happy. You were afraid this weekend would be an absolutely chore for him but he actually seems to enjoy it.

"Look at me" He says softly

You look at his shiny doe eyes. They've never been so pretty. To be honest, everything in Jungkook is pretty. And his wide grin is to die for. He has the most beautiful smile in the whole world.

His inked hand goes up to your face and you're surprised by the tenderness of his thumb brushing your cheek. Honestly, if you didn't know that you're fake-dating, you would be completely in love. But maybe your weak heart shouldn't react as much... It certainly a side-effect of having your heart broken by your cheating boyfriend and not at all because Jungkook is kind and handsome and sexy and everything that describes 'perfect'.

"I won't let you down" He swears and seals his promise with a kiss on your forehead before putting you down carefully

However, your little bubble explodes with your ex's annoyed and annoying voice. And you understand that Jungkook just put on a show because Taehyung was there. You put far, far, far away the feeling of disappointment.

"Can we go to the beach now? Everyone is waiting for you" Taehyung growls

You shrug your shoulders while you pass by him and Siyeon, not forgetting to grab your roommate's hand.

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

Would you dare to say that the beach is even prettier than the tropical forest? Yes. The white and soft sand underneath your feet is warm and comforting. And the sea is painted in a turquoise color. It's official: you want to move here.

You don't resist anymore and you are quick to take off your shorts and t-shirt to jump in the water. Soon enough, your friends join you but you see no sign of Jungkook. Your eyes scan the shore and you almost choke.

Jungkook has taken his Hawaiian shirt off and his perfect chest is on full display. Gosh, he is hot. You take advantage of being away enough to ogle him. Your eyes lick his defined abs and pecs, then his strong biceps, especially the one covered by ink, and finish with his large thighs. You internally curse at his orange swimsuit.

"You've found yourself a great specimen" Tzuyu teases you, wiggling her eyebrows

You laugh it off but your red cheeks speak for themselves. You can't deny that you are flushed by the view of your 'boyfriend'.

You're not the only one to blush at this fine man: you can see some other female tourists whispering, certainly wondering if they should go talk to him. But they don't have time to make a decision since Jungkook walks to the water and skillfully swims to you. You didn't know that swimming could be sexy...

You quickly put your head underwater in order to get rid off your blushed cheeks but you're not sure it works. When you emerge, Jungkook is standing right in front of you with his handsome bunny smile.

"Come here" He urges you softly

Even though the water is too deep for you to plant your feet on the ground, it's not the case for Jungkook who can easily grab your waist and hug you. Automatically, you wrap your legs around his torso and your arms around his neck. You still have in mind your fake-dating plan and cuddling in the warm ocean sets the perfect scenery to play your roles.

You push his black wet hair back and use your 'girlfriend card' to admire his handsome face. Jungkook seems to glow with the drops glistening in the sun.

You swear, your roommate has decided to kill you because he attacks you with cuteness when he softly brushes his bubble nose against yours, making you both giggle.

"They're too cute together" Tzuyu beams, hugging her future husband

You've known Namjoon longer than her but she has become a true friend. She is always nice with you and supports you the same way your friend does. You're so happy for them to have found each other because they're perfect together — even though you're a bit jealous of their love right now.

You want to thank her but as you open your mouth, you're interrupted by none other than Taehyung, in his grumpy mood.

"Who wants to play volleyball?" Your ex asks, a little louder than necessary just to bother you

You roll your eyes, scoot a little away but still stay in Jungkook's strong arms. You know that if Taehyung has proposed volleyball is not mundane but it's because he is quite good at it. He used to play in high school and it might be the only sport he can beat Jungkook at. But he surely bets on your roommate's competitiveness to lure him into his trap.

However, Jungkook refuses — which surprises both you and your ex. 

"Nah, thanks. I just want to enjoy some time with my girl"

Namjoon, Hoseok and his girlfriend, and Taehyung join the beach to prep the game. The rest of your group floats around in the water or intend to swim to the yellow buoy.

"You're sure you don't want to play?" You ask

"Yeah, I'm sure" He reassures you and then bends over to whisper in yours ear "Taehyung is so mad right now, he keeps throwing stares at us. Is it okay if I kiss your neck?"

Your heart skips a bit and you nod, bitting your lower lip. It's suddenly very hot and it has nothing to do with the bright sun above you. You can feel your heart pounding with anticipation and you wonder if Jungkook can see the pulsations on your throat.

Jungkook's lips are soft, sending shivers down your spine when they slightly brush against your skin. The coldness of his lip ring contrasts with his hot breathe. You don't know what's got into you but you press him tighter against you and arch your back. Jungkook lands a first kiss to taste waters, then a second one, then a third one — more heated this time. You just wish he never stops and you don't know why you're feeling like that: it's not the first time someone touches you, even if it feels like it.

You close your eyes as you're trying your best not to moan but it's very hard to do when your fake boyfriend starts sucking on your skin. You have no doubt he can feel your pulse with his lips. His teeth gently bite the new mark before his tongue licks it to soothe the pain. You're very thankful that the ocean covers your hard nipples and that your wetness is indiscernible because one thing is sure: you’re aroused. 

Jungkook takes the time to admire his work. It might be one of the prettiest hickeys he's ever made and he has to admit that the purple mark suits you so well.

"Perfect" He states, more to himself than to you, and he licks his lips

When you open your eyes again, they land on Siyeon. She has clearly watched your interaction and you suddenly feel embarrassed. Sure, it was meant to be a show but weirdly, you would have wished this intimate moment to stay well, intimate.

An unpleasant shiver runs through your body at her death stare. You should be the one to hate her — she stole your man for god's sake! — and you don't understand why she acts so cold towards you. Not that you're willing to befriend with her but still...

"You're cold?" Jungkook asks

You use it as an excuse to run away  — or swim away — from Siyeon and her piercing eyes. You have the distasteful instinct that she has read right through Jungkook's and your lie.

You expected Jungkook to put you down but he actually walks to the shore with you in his arms, holding you tighter as the water levels down on your body. You hug him like a koala and Jungkook smiles softly at the image.

It's only when you are by your stuff that your fake boyfriend lets you feel the ground underneath your feet. He hands you your towel and helps you dry yourself. The gestures are sweet and you wonder if Jungkook is like that when he is in a real relationship or if he just plays his role.

He scrubs his wet hair with his own towel at a rapid pace, shaking his muscles right in front of you. You gulp and look the other way. Just like he wasn't an absolute tease, Jungkook lays on his towel to enjoy the sun. However, you notice his blushed cheeks and you know that a sunburn is close.

"You should apply sun protection" You advise

You thought that he would battle with you — it was usual with Taehyung as your ex-boyfriend often complained that you were babying him — but he doesn't and wastes no time to apply sun screen on his arms, legs, chest and face. You can't only chuckle when he turns white because of the dramatic amount he has put on.

"Can you help me with the back, please?"

"Of course, turn around"

Facing his large back is easier because Jungkook can't see how much you're blushing. You make sure to cover every inch of his skin, massaging his back lightly and insisting on his tattoos. You deny it but you take a little more time than needed just to enjoy his body under your fingertips.

When he turns around, Jungkook gives you his bunny smile with a scrunched nose and you know that many women have fallen under his charm. It's not that difficult to be honest.

"How about a game?" He asks with cheerfulness, holding his phone in his tattooed hand

You nod frenetically, so glad that Jungkook thinks about your habits as roommates. You feel like you both need it not to get too lost into your acting. You and him are used to spend evenings playing this stupid game on your phones, fighting for the win. You have to admit that Jungkook is really good at it but you know all of his technics now, resulting in stealing some victories from him.

You are both laying on your stomachs, typing like maniacs on your screens, gasping from time to time when the other kills one of your players. When you are taking the lead, Jungkook bumps your shoulder in order to distract you but you push him back and go further by typing haphazardly on his phone.

"Yah!" He yells, making you giggle

"Yes!" You exclaim as the victory is yours

"It wasn't fair!" Jungkook pouts and you poke your tongue out to taunt his sore loser side

However, Jungkook takes revenge by tickling you with no pity. You squeak and wiggle as much as you can to escape his devilish fingers but Jungkook's grip is strong. You're laughing so much that your tummy hurts and tears roll down your cheeks.

You don't really know how it happened but Jungkook is now above you. The intimate position stops the childish moment and the atmosphere swifts to something way hotter.

You might be imagining things but it looks like your roommate is staring at your lips. It even seems like he is getting closer. Is he going to kiss you? Oh gosh!

'Oh gosh!' because you want him to!

Your heart pounds and you try to calm down all the alarms in your brain screaming 'your sexy roommate is about to kiss you!' but the kiss never happens.

Because as Jungkook's appealing mouth is only a few inches away from yours, the volleyball hits his head with a comic 'boing' sound.

Furious, Jungkook's head snaps at the players and it's no surprise that Taehyung was the one who threw the ball.

"My bad!" He fakes to apologize

"The hell, man?!" Jungkook barks

You feel the tension between the two men, especially when Jungkook stands up, ready to throw punches. You grab his arm as you're trying to calm him down.

"Kook, it's okay" You say softly

"He could have hurt you!" He replies

"Don't worry, I aim good" Your ex mocks him, indirectly confessing that he did it on purpose — not that you had a doubt

Your roommate's fists clench and you're afraid all this thing doesn't end good. You sneak your hand in his, caressing the back of his hand to soothe him. It seems to work as Jungkook has stopped throwing death stares at Taehyung and is now looking at you.

"It's late anyway" You say "We should head to our room to get ready for dinner"

"Yeah, you're right" Jungkook concedes, eyeing Taehyung a last time as an idea lightens up his face "I can't wait to test this amazing shower with you, baby"

Poking his inner cheek with his tongue, Jungkook is clearly provoking Taehyung but it's so fucking sexy. Actually, you wouldn't mind testing that shower with him...

. ༶⋆˙⊹❀♡

"Oh my god!" You exclaim "You look really good!"

Your compliment paints a smile on your roommate's face but you have to say that he deserves it. As there is a casual diner for tonight — fancy events are reserved for the wedding tomorrow —Jungkook hasn't put a lot of efforts but he is great even, he always is. It's pretty rare you see him without his baggy clothes and yet, his skinny jeans and black shirt are perfect on him. It's like you get to finally see his musculature underneath the fabric.

Walking around at this man's arm is a boost for self-confidence, even though you had to try harder to look one third of his good-looking.

"You're great, too" He tells you, referring to your white calf-long shirt dress "Look, for tonight, I think we should get more... physical. It seems to really drive Taehyung mad"

"That's because I'm not very affectionate in public, it makes me feel embarrassed" You explain

"We don't have to" Jungkook reassures you "I don't want to make you uncomfortable"

"No, it's okay. I mean, isn't it the whole point of faking?"

"You're sure?" Jungkook asks with concern in his eyes

"Yeah, I'm sure" You nod, giving him a small smile

With a final nod from Jungkook, you both walk to the open restaurant. As you are getting closer, your fake boyfriend gets into his character, scooting closer to you and wrapping an arm around your waist. It's true that you are not used to public display of affection but, with Jungkook's warm body pressed against yours, it's not that bad. Maybe because you're playing a role too.

Unfortunately, you're the first ones to arrive... except from Taehyung and Siyeon already sat at your big table. The air isn't really friendly and you do your best to concentrate on the sophisticated table setting. There are huge magnolia flowers decorating the center and your fingers tickle to put them in your suitcase.

"What do you want to drink, love?"

Jungkook's question drifts away your attention. You're surprised not to have only reacted to his voice but also to the pet name and you know for a fact that it's dangerous for your heart.

As he has suggested earlier, he tugs a lock of hair behind your ear, taking the opportunity to caress your cheek. Instant blush and a dry throat take control of your body.

"I think I'll stick to wine tonight since we'll drink a lot tomorrow"

Jungkook nods, an impressed look on his face at your self-control. Now that he thinks about it, he has never seen you drunk. The few times you both drank alcohol, he clearly remembers that you had only one or two glasses. 'You are such the perfect girl for my parents', He thinks but it doesn't sound as ironical as he first imagined.

"What do you want?" You ask him, but also the two other persons around the table out of pure courtesy "I'm gonna order to the bar"

You just want to run away from your ex and the woman he cheated on you with, especially when they start kissing — in a very inappropriate way in public in your opinion.

"Two shots of vodka" Taehyung replies and you know that he does it on purpose

It wasn't rare that your ex wanted to have shots games, especially with vodka. However, you don't like shots games nor vodka. One day, mad and drunk, Taehyung called you 'no fun', spent the rest of the night with his friends and left you alone in that bar.

You try not to look affected and turn toward your supposed boyfriend.

"Like you said, we'll drink a lot tomorrow so just sparkling water for me. Thanks, baby"

Jungkook's smile puts some ointment to your wounded heart. Right as you stand up, he grabs your hand and pulls on it so your face is at the same level as his. You are both looking into each other's eyes and gosh, you love how shiny his black irises are.

For a second, you think that Jungkook is going to kiss you but at the very last second, his lips aim for your cheek, giving you a sweet peck. You don't know if your heart has stopped or beaten faster... Either way, you just need to hide your redden face.

You escape, exhaling a breath you didn't know you hold. You're a little worried about leaving your roommate alone with the evil couple but you also need time to get your head straight.

"So, how long have you been with Y/N?" Taehyung starts — this question has been on his mind ever since he saw two arriving together at the airport

"Not long" Jungkook answers with a deliberate vagueness, his tone nonchalant

Your ex scoffs, his anger rising slowly in his body. He can't believe that you cheated on him with your roommate! You told him so many times that nothing ever happened and would ever happen between you two and now, you're officially together. That can only mean one thing: you were together before Taehyung broke up with you.

"It's a big change for you, right?"

"What do you mean?" Your fake boyfriend asks with a frown, he really doesn't like your ex's tone

"Well, from what I've seen, you're a guy that likes having fun. Going out, hanging out with friends, partying and so on. It's not really something you can do with Y/N. Honestly, she's boring. But Siyeon, she is everything Y/N is not. Maybe Siyeon could introduce you to some of her friends, I mean, if you want to have fun"

Jungkook is seeing red. His fists clench as much as his jaws but punching Taehyung right now won't do any good. He can't believe that your ex is such a dick.

"Y/N is fun" He bites back "When you want to settle for good and start a future, you don't need to party every weekends. Y/N and I are planning things on the long-term, very long-term"

He swears he can see Taehyung's jaw hanging on the floor. His face is red from anger and Jungkook sports a cocky smirk.

The conversation ends here because you come back and soon enough, your friends arrive. Jungkook doesn't waste this opportunity to grab your hand and kiss the back of it, looking at your ex straight into the eyes. He even goes further in the provocation by gently caressing the forth finger of your left hand.

The diner ends with way less tension than at the beginning thanks to the presence of your friends and the spouses-to-be. Everyone makes an effort to spend a great evening with them and you're so happy, really. But you need some calm. Being around Taehyung and Siyeon this long and pretend like everything is fine is very hard to do. That's why, after everyone has finished their plates, you offer Jungkook a little walk on the beach. For your friends, it's just a romantic moment but for you, it's necessary to gain perspective.

And the light breeze and soothing melody of the waves brushing the sand help. It feels like heaven. Everything is so calm around you, just like you're stopped in time. A parenthesis of happiness shared with someone special...

You don't know how long you walk on the beach in silence. It's not like you need to say something. Not when the reflection of the moon on the ocean is so beautiful. It's peaceful to be around Jungkook. He doesn't have to say anything to comfort you, just him being here is enough.

"I don't think I've told you how thankful I am to you" You break the silence "Really, Kook, thank you so much. For coming with me this weekend and going along with my crazy idea" You both chuckle but the moment is full of emotions "But not only that. Thank you so much for everything you've done for me. You always support me and gosh, I'm so lucky to have you in my life" The intensity of Jungkook's black eyes on you spurs you to add: "As roommate"

Just for a second, his jaws clench before he nods and regains his soft features. That's why you think that you might have imagined it.

"You don't have to thank me. I'm happy to be here and I'm happy to help you whenever you want" He pauses before adding, like a joke or a dig "As roommate"

You both stare at each other for a moment. Jungkook is so handsome right now. He has this honey tan from the day in the sun. You realize that he has more of a man features now than when you moved with him. His jaw is more defined, his eyes more piercing and rarer in their doe shape. But he is attractive, that's for sure. He always has been but you don't know why you notice it way more now.

These thoughts disturb you but you don't have to think about them more because your roommate grabs your hand. His touch makes you forget everything else.

You just wonder why he is doing that: no one is around. You don't have to play your fake boyfriend/girlfriend roles. Yet, you don't move your hand away. On the contrary, you squeeze his big and warm palm and head, hand-in-hand, to your room.

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

"Should I sleep on the couch?" Jungkook questions, clearly embarrassed

You have both put your pajamas on, ready for a good night of sleep after all the events of the day. That certainly explains why you haven't talked about the elephant in the room yet: the famous one-bed-situation. Since you're pretending to date, you obviously couldn't take two bedrooms but now, what are you going to do?

You're not kids anymore and the bed is big enough for the both of you. However, you're feeling... weird at the idea of sharing it with your roommate. For you, it's an intimate thing. Yet, you can't let Jungkook sleep on the couch while the whole thing was your idea. But, on the other hand, you can't sleep on the couch yourself when you'll have to be fully operative tomorrow for your friends' wedding.

You are both looking at the bed like it's your worst enemy. Yet, it looks so comfy. It's hard to resist to be honest.

The only solution is...

"We can share the bed"

Your voice is a little higher than usual and you don't think you've ever been this red. But it's okay, you're an adult. It's not such a big deal to have a very handsome and attractive man in your bed, right?

"I mean, if it's okay with you" You add quickly when you spot the surprised look on Jungkook's face

"Personally, I'm okay with it. But are you?"

There is playfulness in his tone and rather than soothing you, it actually makes your heart beat faster for undetermined reasons.

"Yeah, of course" You half-lie — you're not 100% sure you'll survive the tension

"Great then!" Your roommate exclaims but decides to complicate things for you when he takes off his t-shirt, leaving him in his grey jog shorts — because he obviously had to chose grey ones

Your staring eyes push him to give you an explanation.

"Sorry but it's too hot here to sleep with a shirt. But it's nothing you haven't seen, right love?" He teases

Yeah, it's too hot to sleep. Especially when those abs are on display.

You join the bed, using it at an excuse to run away from him. You bite your lower lip and quickly turn around to lay on your side. Facing the wall is the only way to control your want to caress his appealing muscles… You want to slap youself in the face for thinking that because Jungkook is your roommate. Fantasying on him will make living with him very hard and you’re not ready to give up the delicious kimchi fried rice that he sometimes makes in the morning.  

"Good night" He wishes as he jumps in the bed too

"Good night" You reply, your throat a little dry

"Are you okay?" Jungkook worries and scoots closer and rests on his elbow to have a look on your face

Gosh, you're clearly aware of his body right behind you. You can even feel the heat caressing your back. Your own body reacts — or one specific part of your body to be exact.

You nod and shut your eyes close, trying to find sleep as soon as possible. You hear Jungkook chuckles behind you and he gently caresses your shoulder while wishing good night once again and settles on the other side of the bed.

You have to fight every inch of your body not to press yourself against him. You have to remind you once again that Jungkook is your roommate and he only pretends to be your boyfriend. None of this is real. It's just pretend.

But your sleeping body doesn't seem to care.

When you wake up the next morning, your face is resting on his chest, your arm thrown across his torso and your leg clinched around his hips.

You carefully lift up your head and you exhale out of relief that Jungkook is still asleep. You move carefully and slowly to put some distance between your bodies but sleepy Jungkook growls and hugs you tighter.

"Baby..." He mutters in his sleep and gosh, your heart does backflips in your chest

It's just impossible not to die from his cuteness. But there is no time for that because a diplomatic incident between roommates is close.

The first step is to move your leg. But the second you do so, your eyes lands on his morning wood. Red rushes to your cheeks as the bulge is clearly visible in his pants. 'Okay, it's just a physical thing, it has nothing to do with you' You force yourself to remind.

Second step: you gently grab his arm around your waist and push it away. You stop breathing in order to detect any sign of awakening. Thankfully, Jungkook is a heavy sleeper.

Last step of your mission is to get out of bed. You move as slowly as you can and sigh in relief when you're on your feet. You rush to the bathroom, just to witness your blushed cheeks in the mirror. You have to stop reacting so much to Jungkook, your roommate.

But you squeak as your eyes land on your neck: the hickey is well noticeable on your skin. You already know that you'll have to put a huge amount of concealer to hide it — but someway, you don't really want to hide it. You easily convince yourself it’s to get back at Taehyung. 

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

"How the fuck am I supposed to tie it?" Jungkook rants

You peak your head out of the bathroom, your mascara still in your hand. You burst into laugh when you notice Jungkook's tie in a very comical knot. You're pretty sure a 4-year old child would do better. Your roommate throws a death stare at you but it only makes you laugh louder.

"Can you stop?" He growls and tries to tie it again, without success

"Come on, I'll help you"

Your playful smile doesn't leave you as you are walking to him but your heart certainly doesn't miss how handsome Jungkook is right now with his black suit. It's elegant on his fit body, just like it was made for him.

"You're 26 and you don't know how to knot a tie..." You tease him while your hands works on the black fabric, soft as silk

"Yah! It's not like I wear it on a daily basis!" Jungkook defends himself, pouting slightly

Actually, you wouldn't be surprised if he told you that he bought his suit specially for Namjoon's wedding.

"Here you go" You announce when you're done

You swipe away some imaginary dust on his shoulders just to be able to touch him. You admire how the suit wraps perfectly his torso.

"You're beautiful" He suddenly says, voicing your own thoughts about him, and his voice has never been softer

The unexpected compliment makes your moves stop and your eyes lift up to meet his. You can see the sincerity in them and you pat yourself on the shoulder for choosing this long pale yellow with blue flowers dress.

"Thank you" You manage to say despite the tension drying your throat, even more when Jungkook settles his warm hands on your hips

Instinctively, your own hands tighten on his large shoulders and your body gets closer to his. This tension is too much for you and your weak heart. Once again, you have to remember that you are just pretending to date. It's not good for your sake if it looks too real when it's unnecessary because it'll give you hope and then, you'll have your heart broken. And you certainly don't want to have your heart broken by Jungkook because, without completely understanding it, you know that it'll hurt far more than when Taehyung did it.

"We should get going" You state, putting distance as much on a physical plan as on a emotional one

Your roommate clears his throat just like he wanted to clear his mind too and agrees with you. With a weird atmosphere, you two leave your room.

You have about a five-minute walk to pull yourself together and enter your 'girlfriend-who-is-so-in-love-with-her-boyfriend' character — which, you're afraid to say, it's not so hard to do...

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

The wedding ceremony takes place on the beach, with white seats for the few friends that have accompanied you. You're not ashamed to say that you shedded a tear during the vows — giving Jungkook an opportunity to hug you tight and peck your cheek — and you're surely not the only one. The ceremony though was quite simple and quick because Namjoon and Tzuyu have rent one of the reception halls of the hotel.

Just like the rest of the common areas, it's all wooden and white curtains flying away with the breeze. It's not a huge hall but it has enough place for a dance floor, a bar and some tables for lunch. Honestly, it's your dream wedding since everything is so romantic. The only problem is that you don't have anyone to marry...

The man you thought you were going to spend your life with cheated on you and is right here with that girl. And the man you could want to marry is faking your relationship. You don't really know how everything went so out of control recently...

But it doesn't really matter because the said fake-boyfriend leads you to your table, a hand on your lower back. This very hand slightly goes down as you approach your ex. You don't hear it but Taehyung makes a not so nice comment about your roommate, complaining about how you could choose a tattoo artist — basically describing him as a delinquent — when you were with your ex, working at a prestigious law firm in Seoul. This comment makes Jungkook tense, especially his fists and jaws. He could throw punch but it wouldn't be smart — he doesn’t know why his fighting instinct jumps up every time he spots the stupid face of your ex. So Jungkook whispers, loud enough for Taehyung to hear it, something so scandalous that you gasp.

"Can I tattoo my name on your ass? It'd look so fucking cute"

How can he say something like that?! It's so scandalous, so... hot. Thankfully, by the time you should respond, you're far enough from Taehyung and Siyeon for them to spot your words.

"Jungkook!" You scold him but your red cheeks don’t do much to pretend to be firm "Don't say that!"

"Sorry" He apologizes but his proud smile is a clear sign that he doesn't regret at all "But the face Taehyung made totally worth it"

You roll your eyes playfully and push on his shoulder to make him sit down at your table. Since you'll have to say a few words — a little speech you've spent hours to write with Jungkook's help —, you are given the honor to be at the bride and groom's table.

You give a warm smile to Yoongi, Namjoon's best man. Despite knowing Namjoon for some years now, you've never spent too much time with Yoongi. It can be mainly explained by the fact that the black-haired man is not fond of social events and rather much prefers staying at home. The occasions on which you get to see this rare species are per se exceptional. However, Yoongi's beauty never fails to amaze you: his skin is so white, perfect like the most polished porcelain, but his hair is so black, just like his eyes. The contrast is strong, almost supernatural. Perhaps it's also the way that you can't read his face most of the times.

The way Yoongi stays quiet, looking intensely at you and Jungkook, makes you think that he can read right through you. Does he know that you're faking everything with your roommate? Even if he does, he welcomes you with a brief but friendly nod of head.

Jungkook seems to be more at ease around Yoongi than you are, starting the conservation without being offended by the silence from the other side of the table. Someway, a proud smile appears on your face when you watch your (fake) boyfriend trying his best to be friendly with your social circle. You know that, despite Jungkook's nature of friendlyness, he really wants to be appreciated by your friends. It warms your heart that he is doing more efforts in one weekend than Taehyung has done in a whole year of relationship.

You can't help a giggle at Jungkook being totally immersed into his story of how he went to the wrong apartment one time after drinking too much, in the wrong fucking building. You put your hand on his on the table and you're sure that your roommate doesn't even notice how intimately he intertwines yours fingers. He doesn't have to notice actually, because you do it for the two of you, blushing lightly under your makeup.

"It's good to see you happy" Yoongi suddenly says at you after Jungkook's storytime

You're a bit surprised by Yoongi's words though. First of all, because he doesn't talk much. Then, because you were happy before, you mean with Taehyung, right? Didn't you seem happy before? Are you happier now in a fake relation?

Those questions make you slightly frown and you just can respond with a nod of head. You try to deviate the conversation in order to think about that and ask Jungkook to tell the one time he has to take down the whole sink of the bathroom because you thought your ring was in it but it was actually in your jewelry box.

Thankfully, Namjoon and Tzuyu's arrival is a good distraction for your brain, and followed by the food served. You watch Jungkook frowning as he is chewing on his lobster, notifying you that he enjoys the meal very much. You even hear him exclaim a 'damn!' of appreciation.

On your side, Tzuyu elbows you to catch your attention.

"You look so in love. I'm so happy you found someone good after Tae" She whispers

You look in love? On the one hand, it's a good thing that you are fooling everyone but on the other hand, you're not sure to be that great of an actress. Do you look in love because you are? If that so, you are in a big mess.

"Well, Jungkook is nice" You choose to respond, carefully avoiding the part about you being in love with your roommate/fake-boyfriend

"He is whipped for you too, you know. He hasn't stopped looking at you when you weren't paying attention" Tzuyu giggles

Being taken aback is an understatement. You shouldn't pay too much care about what Tzuyu is saying because she thinks you are dating Jungkook. Maybe she just wants to be nice, or maybe your roommate's acting is amazingly believable for the people around you but you, on the other hand, shouldn't believe it too much. It's getting harder and harder to separate the genuine attentions of the friend with whom you've been sharing an apartment for four years from his behaviour as your pretend boyfriend. And you are messing with the two, too.

You clear your mind, swallowing the rest of your glass of wine. You don't want to think about that, you just want to enjoy your friends' wedding and enjoy someone 'loving' you for the weekend, even if it's just pretend and even if it ends tomorrow morning.

This new attitude allows you to recover your usual smile and you don't even mind Jungkook's arm on your chair when the diner is over, just like a protective boyfriend would do.

It doesn't mean that you get to leave your table just yet: now is the time for the emotional —sometimes embarrassing — speeches.

Namjoon is the first one to start. He thanks everyone for coming to the wedding and basically declares his love all over again to his new wife. Tzuyu can't help a few tears during her own speech, insisting that the wedding is just like she has imagined since she was a young girl and that all the guests — minus Taehyung you imagine — are welcomed to their house after their honeymoon.

You are intrigued by Yoongi's speech, wondering what such a quiet person will say in front of a crowd, even though it's just a gathering of a few friends. You are truly surprised to see how at ease he is. It looks like he is doing that exercise everyday, even adding a few jokes. Yoongi doesn't talk for long but that's not surprising. He just expresses his genuine happiness for his best friend and wishes the best for the newly married couple.

When it's your turn, you can't help but feel a little stressed. Jungkook must feel it because he gently squeezes your hand and gives you an encouraging smile.

You stand up and you immediately regret looking at your ex since he is making out with his girlfriend — in quite a disgusting way if someone asks you. You quickly look away, searching for a more friendly face and settle on Hoseok. His sweet smile gives you the courage to start speaking after clearing your throat and swiping your sweaty palms on your dress.

"I'm not used to give speeches but I'm used to talk about love. I think it's no secret for anyone here that I'm a huge romantic. I mean, romantic comedies have no secret for me!" You're relieved to earn a few laughs "And I have to say that I'm a little bit jealous about Tzuyu and Namjoon: it was love at first sight and they haven't stopped loving each other since then. I think we all want to have someone that loves us like Namjoon and Tzuyu love each other. I am so happy to be here to witness your love" You say to the couple, your eyes a little blurring because of your tears "I just want you to be happy every single day of the rest of your life together and I hope I'll be able to stand in front of you in the future and tell you that I found a love just like yours"

You can't stop yourself from looking at Jungkook when you end your speech. You only hear in the distance the cheering of your friends because you are too occupied to try analyzing your roommate's face.

He is looking at you funny and you don't know why. Did you say something wrong?

You don't have time to question yourself more than that since a crying bride hugs you tight and whispers in your ear how touched she is by your words.

When you get to look back at Jungkook, he seems to be the same as always: bunny smile and scrunched nose. You might have imagined everything, after all, you had tears in your eyes...

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

It's dance time.

You wouldn't usually dare to step on the dance floor but Jungkook has whined to you. You finally sighed and took his reached hand. And you don't regret because you are having a lot of fun, dancing with your friends. You don't even care that your moves are not very elegant because, except from Hoseok, your friends are not professional dancers.

You have to admit that Jungkook is pretty good but it's not surprising since the man has no weakness.

However, the whole mood changes when a slow dance fills the speakers. You hesitate to step out of the dance floor but your roommate gently grabs your waist and pulls you closer to him.

You rest one hand on his large shoulder and his tattooed palm wraps the other. Soft, warm and comforting. Just like his personality, you think to yourself. You feel coated in a strange atmosphere but it’s not unpleasant, not at all. It’s good, it’s perfect. You realize that you love dancing for Jungkook, you love how he holds you tight against him. 

“Taehyung is looking at us” He whispers in your ears and you’re surprised to have even forget about him while he is the very reason of you being in Jungkook’s arms “Can I kiss your neck?”

You don’t think twice before nodding — and not because of your ex. 

Your breathe itches when a soft pair of lips lands on your thin skin. Goosebumps cover your body but it’s not like you can’t think about it. All that you can feel is the tenderness of the kisses Jungkook settles on you. It’s divine, truly divine. You’re too caught in the moment and maybe Jungkook feels the same because his kiss turns into sucking. His hickeys on your neck heats to your body, builds tension in you and you’re having a hard time concealing a moan. You wish he’d never stop.

"Your speech was nice" He says lowly, almost out of breathe

He keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck so you don’t see the way his dark eyes shines with hunger. 

"Yeah, I changed the end a little bit" You manage to answer

You don't know why your heart beats so fast. It's not the first time you're this close to Jungkook during the weekend but it feels different. You want to touch him more gently, almost with love — which one, you're not sure yet.

"It was perfect. You were perfect"

Is he aware of what he is doing to you? Probably not. Your roommate doesn't know that those sweet, sweet words are the kind of things that makes you fall in love.

At this moment, you realize that you are, indeed, in love with Jungkook. Since when? You don't know and it's not even important. You have a way bigger problem: you are in love with your roommate, who is currently pretending to be your boyfriend. So, it's basically a you-problem and if you tell Jungkook the truth, he will just say that he was acting just like you freaking asked him to!

To sum up: you're doomed.

It's not like you didn't know. Like you said, you're a fan of rom-com. You should have known that you would fall in love at some point, especially when the guy is this attractive... And yet, here you are: just acknowledging that you love your roommate, in a middle of a slow dance, in the most romantic place on Earth.

You sigh at your stupidity.

"Everything's fine?" Jungkook asks with a frown

"Yeah, yeah. I just need to use the bathroom real quick" You let him know

You give him a small smile that disappears when Jungkook gets closer to land the sweetest peck on your cheek, very close to the corner of your mouth. The man is going to kill you.

"I'll wait for you" He promises and gosh, you wish he was talking about your love and not your pee

You nod and run away as quickly as you can, not aware that your ex has followed you.

Your fake boyfriend, however, has seen it clear as day. And he was ready to stop him when Siyeon came in Jungkook's way.

"There is no point" She says, sipping on her glass "You know that Taehyung wants her back, right?"

Even though Jungkook's jaws clench, he nods. He couldn't misinterpret the way Taehyung was looking as you. He was jealous of Jungkook but he was also hurt. And who Jungkook is kidding? You literally asked him to play your boyfriend because of Taehyung. If he asks for a second chance, will you say yes?

"She's with me now" He says with a dry tone

Jungkook doesn't know if he is trying to convince Siyeon or himself. He has a little hope that you won't fall for Taehyung again — for some selfish reasons but also because he doesn't want you to be hurt again.

"Yeah, and Tae is with me but here we are" Siyeon says with bitterness "If they are getting back together, why shouldn't we be together? We could have some fun" She adds with her seductive honey voice

Siyeon is beautiful, Jungkook acknowledges that. And she is damn good at flirting, scooting closer to your roommate, almost touching him. But Jungkook can't do that to you. He is supposed to be your boyfriend and it would be pretty fucked up if he was involved with the woman your ex cheated on you with. More than that, he is not attracted by Siyeon at all.

"Like I said, I'm with Y/N"

Jungkook's tone is a little harsher.

"And like I said, Taehyung wants her back"

Jungkook doesn't know why this memory comes to his mind right now. Maybe it's just defense mechanism: it comes to his mind to reassure him that you won't actually get back together with Taehyung. It's strange though because he has tried so hard in the past to erase it from his brain... But right now, it can't fight it and this night, the first time you invited Taehyung at your place at the beginning of your relationship a year ago, is clear as day.

Jungkook's earphones and video games were quite effective to conceal any noise coming from your room. Your roommate knew that you had a boyfriend, you had told him about it and you looked so happy and excited that he couldn't say 'no' when you had asked him if you could invite Taehyung here. It was also your apartment so you could bring anyone you wanted to be honest. But your caring nature still told you that the correct behavior was to ask your roommate first.

However, Jungkook knew that something would happen in your bedroom tonight, which was making things awkward for him. When you had moved in, Jungkook was very clear with himself not to see you as a woman, just for purpose of healthy cohabitation. He tricked his brain so he could see you like a little sister and it was very convenient when you would step out of your room in the morning with a sleepy face, messy hair and a t-shirt barely covering your panties. After witnessing that scene a few times, Jungkook adopted a new habit: going to the gym before you would wake up.

But now, with a man in your room, you were not your innocent self and Jungkook knew it damn well. It was hard to pretend you weren't probably naked and having sex. Your roommate did not want to hear a single thing about what was going on, which explained the maximum volume of the video game in his ears.

However, he had a problem: he was so fucking thirsty.

After debating for a few long minutes if he should risk it, he decided to be quick and grab a glass of water.

Opening his door, he peaked his head out carefully, waiting if he could hear something but it was quiet for now. 'That's my luck' He thought and basically ran to the kitchen. But well, it was not really his luck because, as he was waiting for his glass to fill up, he heard.

It was faint but he couldn't mistake it: you were moaning. Cute little moans that you wanted to mutter it seemed. From your sounds, it was hard not to imagine how you would look like all naked, pressed against him when he would fuck you dumb, making you scream his name and not those small groans. Jungkook could feel his cock hardening despite his scolding to his body. He didn't want to physically react at you having sex with another man — no, having sex, period. He was ready to run back to his room when he heard your conversation. He knew he shouldn't listen but his curiosity had won the battle.

"Did you finish?" You asked with a small voice

"Yeah" Taehyung replied between his pantings, his smile noticeable in his voice "And you?"

"Well... no" You were clearly embarrassed to confess it

Jungkook almost bursted into laugh. Not to praise himself but it was rare he wouldn't make a woman come before him. However, it was not a problem if it happened because some women just need more time to reach the high. He would just eat her out or finger her until both sides were equally satisfied.

However, he wouldn't have imagined your boyfriend's response.

"Sorry, doll, I'm so tired. Next time, okay?"

Your roommate had no problem picturing you nodding at him. You didn't like conflicts, you didn't like contradicting people. Sometimes it was frustrating for Jungkook — he even had had to take your phone when you had called the after-sales service for your computer. The employee had told you they couldn't do anything and, of course, when Jungkook had stepped in and clearly said that he wouldn't give up until you were fully refunded, the employee had seemed to be nicer all of sudden and a magical solution appeared.

"I'm going to the bathroom" You notified Taehyung

Jungkook panicked and was quick to reach his room, your conversation with your boyfriend replaying in his brain. He couldn't understand why Taehyung would do that. He also wondered if it was usual for you not to come when you had sex with him. That's things he knew he shouldn't think about but it was hard not to do when he knew you would have come with him... And Jungkook wouldn't let you sleep without at least two more orgasms just because you deserved it for being this cute and this pretty.

But his body froze when he heard you entering the shower. The bathroom was next to his bedroom and the shower shared a wall with his room. At first, Jungkook thought he was imagining things and that it was just the water running thought the pipes. But no.

You were masturbating.

Jungkook could hear your choked moans, probably when the showerhead was aiming your clit directly. And it was not good for your roommate. It was impossible not to have a boner.

"Oh god!" You moaned, a little louder and Jungkook was gone

He said "fuck it" and freed his hard cock from his sweatpants. He started pumping his dick at your groans, picturing you in this fucking shower pleasuring yourself. He imagined joining you and making you cum while your stupid boyfriend was sleeping in your bed.

"Fuck" You moaned again and it was even more arousing for Jungkook because you never cursed

You were such a good girl, and now you were masturbating right next to him. He wondered which naughty words could come from your appealing mouth when you were fucked good. Jungkook would have loved making you say all kinds of bad words, turning you into a sin when you were the perfect picture of an angel.

"Shit, Y/N..." Jungkook whispered to himself when your image became too vivid for his sanity

Your moans got a pitch higher and Jungkook knew you were close. He increased his pace, stroking his dick insanely fast but he couldn't stop. This moment was one of the most erotic ones of his life: you pleasuring yourself in the shower, having no idea that he was listening to you and jerking off on you.

"Come on, baby, cum for me" Jungkook spurred you even though you couldn't hear him

But it didn't matter because chance made you come right after, and Jungkook finished too, his cum making a mess on his fist and pants.

Even though it was one of the best masturbating sessions of his life, Jungkook promised himself not to ever think about it again because, at the end of the day, what he did was so fucking wrong.

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

You made a decision. You looked at yourself in the mirror and found a strength you didn't know you had. And you are sure about it: you are going to step out of this bathroom and you are going to confess to Jungkook.

So what if he doesn't share your feelings? Jungkook is a good man, he won't make a fool out of you and if anything, you know he'll just feel bad for you. But the most important thing is that you are sure of our feelings and you are not ashamed of them. Actually, it's a privilege to have such a friend and roommate in your life.

You give yourself some last words of encouragement and step out of your hideout.

Instantly, all the courage you've managed to gather fades away because you are facing Taehyung. You hate that he can destroy so easily the mere confidence Jungkook gave you. You wished you could just avoid him but he calls you out.

"What do you want?" You ask a little cold

"Give me another chance" He says out of the blunt

Your eyes widen as you wonder if you heard well. You certainly did not expect that. But you also can't believe his nerve: he cheated on you, came to the your friends' wedding with his new girl and now he wants another chance?!

Honestly, if he had asked a few days ago, maybe you would have fall again for him — because you genuinely thought that what you were feeling for him was love — but it's not the case anymore. Not after Jungkook. You acknowledge that it's a strange thing to say when you are actually not in a real relationship with the man and that you have tried real hard to convince yourself that your feelings were not what they looked like. However, now that you have stopped denying, there is no turning back.

You only manage to reply a chocked 'what?', still shocked by Taehyung's announcement.

"I made a mistake. A big mistake" Your ex explains, getting closer to you with hope in his — you hate to say it — beautiful brown eyes "Seeing you with someone else made me realize it. I am so sorry, Y/N, please just give me another chance"

"Are you drunk?!" You exclaim, half choking

"I'm not drunk!" Taehyung defends himself, almost offended "We could start again and forgive each other. You know that I—“ But you cut him off

"Forgive each other?" You scoff "I did nothing wrong, Taehyung!"

"Well, you lied to me when you said that nothing was going with your roommate and that nothing could ever happen" He states

He clearly looks pissed but it's not your problem. You can't believe he is placing on the same level his cheating and your fake relation with Jungkook — well, to be fair, Taehyung doesn't know it's fake and he probably assumes that you've cheated too if you are with someone else this fast after your breakup.

"But I didn't cheat!" You yell, unable to contain your frustration "You cheated on me and you broke my heart but guess what? Thank you because if you haven't, I wouldn't have noticed how bad you are for me. I don't love you anymore and I am not going to apologize for finding a good man who takes care of me. Jungkook is good for me and I'm happy when I'm with him. He makes me happy and I'm in love with him. So please, be respectful to Siyeon and I will act like this conversation never happened"

You turn away, proud of your badass moment but stop and squeak. Jungkook is standing right there. He. Has. Heard. Everything.

If the ground could open and swallow you whole, you'll be blessed. But it stays hard as rock for a greater humiliation of yourself. You didn't plan to confess — if you can call that a confession when you made it to the wrong person — this way.

You stop breathing, not knowing what to say or do. Everything went so wrong so fast.

But as usual, Jungkook saves the day and simply grabs your hand to escape your ex-boyfriend's stare.

. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ♡

After the little interaction with Taehyung, neither Jungkook nor you are in the mood for partying. Even though you feel guilty for leaving your friends' wedding party, you know that you'll only ruin the festive atmosphere. Your roommate seems like he doesn't mind and you're pretty sure he feels the same since he has not smiled once, which is rare, but you don't quite get why he is like that.

You don't have to talk to each other to agree with heading back to your room. Maybe being in a more quiet place will help to get your mind straight.

You still don't speak to Jungkook when you reach your door. You don't really know what to say and the same goes for your fake boyfriend.

The awkward air around you spurs you to lock yourself in the bathroom. Honestly, you pray that a hot shower will clear your mind and yeah, it does help a little. But when you grab the knot after changing into your pajama, you don't feel like you're strong enough to face Jungkook. The truth is that you’re embarrassed but you don’t even know why. Is it because he has heard you? Or because he has seen you loosing your temper in front of your ex? Or just because your feelings are all over the place and you don’t know how to deal with it?

He heard everything and you totally terrified that he'll break your heart, even though it's not what he wants. But one thing is sure: you can't hide in the bathroom forever. So you gather your courage and open the door.

You didn't expect to see a defeated Jungkook, sit on the bed with his head in his hands. He must have been like this all the time you were hiding because he is still wearing his shirt, even though he has loosen up his tie around his neck.

You hate to notice how hot he looks despite his... his what actually? Misery? It can't be that.

"Hey" You say softly not to scare Jungkook who is so deep in his thoughts that he hasn't heard you approaching

"Hey" He replies automatically

He lifts his head up and your heart squeezes at his beauty and sadness in his black eyes.

"I think we should talk" You start, not very sure if you're ready for it actually

"Yes, we should" He encourages you with a faint smile

You sit next to him and you wish you weren't that aware of the heat coming from his body. You are sensitive when he is around, it's like you can feel things ten times harder than usual.

"About what you heard..." You wince, embarrassed about how things went with Taehyung — and also you're not sure how much Jungkook has heard actually

"Yeah, don't worry" He cuts you off "I know that you had to act like we are together, so you don't have to mind"

You don't like that. You don't like how cold and hurt he sounds. You don't like that he thinks you lied about your feelings. It's almost painful.

"It's not really how I wanted things to go" You scoff, speaking to yourself more than to him

You're feeling frustrated. You run your hand through your hair and grunt when you destroy the bun you forget you had done. Everything is going wrong. You wanted to confess but it should have come naturally. Why Taehyung keeps messing with everything in your life?

You are so mad against him that you can't even stay sit. You almost jump on your feet and start walking back and forth in front of Jungkook who is looking at you like you are crazy.

"Listen to me, okay?" You find the courage to say after a long minute of silence

You stay straight in front of him, hoping that your feet locked on the wooden floor will help you to get straight to the point.

"I realized something" You continue "This weekend, when I got to spend time with you, I realized that I don't love Taehyung anymore"

You are almost out of breathe with how fast your heart is beating and even more when you see the surprise on Jungkook's face.

"I don't love him. And also, I didn't lie when I said that I love you"

You want to pat yourself on your back for finally saying those words that scared you so much.

"I really, really love you, Jungkook"

You hoped it was like in movies, that your confession brought his confession but he stays painfully silent. Is it the moment you're going to be rejected?

"Can you please say something?" You beg with a broken voice and tears in your eyes

"I don't want to be your rebound, Y/N" He finally says

What?

Does he really think that? Doesn't he realize how perfect he is? That you've never felt something this strong for everyone, not even Taehyung?

"You're not!" You promise "Jungkook, you're not my rebound. You are just... perfect. I don't even know how I could have been so blind. I love you not because of Taehyung, not because you pretended to be my boyfriend this weekend. I love you because you are you"

"Can you please stop talking?" He asks softly, bringing his inked hand to his face and breaking your heart at the same time "You're confused right now, I get it" You want to argue but he doesn't give you time "But you can't do that to me. If you say that you love me just to break my heart afterward, I don't know if I can take it, not after this long of dreaming you would say those words to me"

You're taken aback now. What does he mean? You're afraid to misinterpret and yet, you want to believe it so much.

"I love you" You can't help but say one more time, just because you can't contain your love inside you anymore

You love Jungkook too much for your own good but who cares? He deserves so much.

You just want to feel close to him now, and for that you walk to him and place your body between his manspreading. You cup his so perfect face, admiring his beautiful dark eyes, the little scar in his cheek and his lips. He is so handsome that you're having a hard time breathing.

"I love you" You repeat so lowly that it's almost a whisper

You seal your words with a kiss. And it's the best kiss ever, especially when Jungkook kisses you back. The sensation of the cold lip ring against your burning skin is new but not unpleasant —definitely not unpleasant. Slowly, your hands leave his jaws to tie behind his neck as you're afraid he'll scoot away. However, it seems like Jungkook wants to have you closer — which you are absolutely down for — and grabs your hips to urge you to sit on his lap.

This proximity is great to deepen your kiss. You press your chest against his and your fingers play with his soft and black hair. You honestly didn't know that kissing someone could be this good. And all the stars seem to be aligned for you since Jungkook loves your kiss too, the proof being that he wraps your body with his strong arms, making sure you'll stay against him.

It doesn't take too long for the romantic kiss to turn into something else. Something more... heated.

You just can't help your hips from grinding on his lap, earning a low grunt of satisfaction from Jungkook. He even grabs your waist just to press you deeper, feel you better. You both internally curse at your clothes but you don't want to leave the warmth and wetness of each other's lips.

With regret, you separate from his mouth to catch your breathe but the air is cut off your lungs as you look at him. He is insanely handsome. His hair is a mess, similar to when he wakes up but sexier since you know you're the reason why. He also has this cute side with his faint blushed cheeks, but his lips are what attract you the most: they are glossy by the mix of your salivas and swollen. You even wonder how his lip ring is still hanging on his thin skin.

"Are you sure you want to do this? Because I'm not sure I can stop if we keep going"

You're surprised by the raspiness of his voice. Sure, you know his morning and hoarse voice but right now, it's different. Deeper, sexier and addictive.

You can only shiver, wondering how this voice would sound saying some outrageous filthy words.

You look at him in the eyes and they've never been this dark. But they are beautiful, so beautiful that you stop breathing for a second.

"I'm sure, Kook"

You don't recognize your voice either. You're not sure you've ever sounded this desperate before and yet, you don't care. Because it's true: you are desperate for Jungkook. Everyone seems to know except him and that's frustrating. Doesn't he know that this kiss is the best one you've ever had? That you don't even want to feel someone else's lips on you? Why can't he believe you when you say that you love him?

Frustration from these questions pushes you to capture his mouth again but this time, your hands work on his shirt to open every button. You definitely want to feel more of his skin and it's like a relief when his shirt is open enough for you to caress his bare chest. His skin is soft and warm under your fingertips but his hard muscles are right under it.

You scoot a little over, abandoning his perfect mouth to look at his torso and gosh, what a sexy man he is...

You only have a little peak of his tattoo shoulder and only the upper part of his abs but you are blushing like crazy. Jungkook is too hot to handle, that's for sure, but you don't really care burning yourself.

You run your hands on his skin and you're surprised — and pleased — to feel his hardening cock twitching as you do you.

"You drive me crazy" Jungkook whispers but you're not sure he is talking to you or to himself

The tattooed man buries his face in the crook of your neck to enjoy your touch even more. The second you are getting back at your task on the remaining buttons, he starts setting wet kisses on your throat, which makes you loose your mind. You can't focus on your moves, you only feel his warm mouth on your thin skin, kissing and sucking.

Your roommate smirks a little when he spots the hickey he's done earlier and he can't help but suck on it again, making it bigger and redder. He really much enjoys your choked moans but one thing he doesn't know is how wet your panties are right now. You're happy to be sited because you perfectly know that your legs are as soft as marshmallow.

But this hickey is not enough for Jungkook, not when the shadow of your ex still flows in his head. He wants you to be his, and not only for this weekend, not only for pretending. And he needs a visible proof of that. That's why he creates a whole constellation of purple marks on your throat and it's addicting. If it’s childish, he doesn’t care. 

"Kook" You whine at some point when you reach your limit — you need him right now

"Tell me what you want" He teases you while he knows damn well that you're too shy you ask for it

You bite your swollen lips, driving Jungkook crazy. He really wants to kiss you again but he also wants you to answer, to see this new side of you.

"I-I want you" You decide to settle for, looking away but it's not enough for your roommate

"I'm right here" He says with a smirk

"Please" You whine, your eyes settling in his with all your courage

Fuck, Jungkook thinks. He doesn't even want to tease you anymore. You're too good for him and he can't wait any longer.

With ease, he grabs your waist and settles you on the comfortable bed. You blush even more when he gets rid of his shirt with urge. You brush his firm torso with your eyes and bite your lower lip at the noticeable bulge in his pants.

"Take your shorts and panties off for me" He asks and you deliver 

You're not the most confident person when it comes to sex but with Jungkook, you feel safe. And the way he looks at you, like you were the finest piece of art, gives you some assurance.

"Shit, your pussy is so pretty" He curses lowly at your glistening cunt

His rough fingers slide up and down your wet folds, making you whine. You just need more, you're too horny for teasing but Jungkook doesn't care.

His thumb slowly draws circles on your clit and you can't help but arch your back and grab the sheets in your fists. Jungkook absolutely loves watching you like this. You are so gorgeous all desperate for his touch — just like he is for your love. He didn't know he'd have the chance to see this part of you but now, he is not sure he can get enough of it.

"Kook" You moan as his thumb applies more pressure

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" He asks but slides two fingers inside you at the same time, preventing you from answering 

You gasp and moan simultaneously as the stretch feels so, so good and as his words are the softest ones.

"I'm gonna make you cum so good, baby" He promises

He enhances his pace, kicking the air of your lungs, and his free hand pushes your top higher so he can suck on your hard nipples. The cold metal of his lip ring on your burning skin and his teeth teasing your sensitive buds make it impossible for you to think straight — not that it’s time to do math anyway.

Your right hand goes up to caress or tug on his black hair or push him deeper against you — you can't know.

Your walls start clenching sporadically, a sign that you are close. But it's so good you don't want to stop. However, Jungkook seems to have a whole other plan since he slides a third digit in your dripping cunt.

"Oh gosh!" You chock

"Please cum for me, love"

You hate — love — that he is using the pet name because there is nothing you'd refuse when he does so. You reach the highest high ever, shaking underneath him and clenching on his fingers.

You have to take a moment to reach back to Earth but Jungkook doesn't urge you. He pull off his fingers from your hole and settles sweet kisses on your boobs, neck and cheeks. You're not sure you've ever felt so good. Jungkook is too good. You love him too much, so much that you want to cry but you gather all your strength to prevent your eyes from getting wet.

"You did good, baby" He praises softly, kissing your forehead

The smile that his words has drawn on your face disappears when you watch Jungkook leave toward the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" You ask, panic noticeable in your voice

"You cummed hard and you had a long day, you must tired" He explains like it was evident that you deserved some rest

"But... what about you?" You vaguely point out his crotch

"You don't have to worry about me" He smiles but you pout

It's not that you worry about him, it's that you want him. Yeah, you did come hard but you feel like you would never get enough of him, of his touch. And it took you a lot of courage to get to that point, you won’t chicken out now. 

“I want to feel you” You manage to say with burning cheeks

Jungkook hesitates but a little pouted ‘please’ from you convinces him to come back next to you and kiss you even deeper. You enjoy his weight on your body and you enjoy his warmth, especially when he takes off you top completely. You’re left totally naked under him and you want him to be just like you. You mentally curse at his remaining suit pants but your bodies are too close to each other for you to sneak a hand and free him from his clothes (your only reward is the fabric of his pants rubbing your sensitive clit delightfully). 

Your silenced wish comes true when Jungkook lifts up his body enough to undo his pants and slides them down along with his briefs and god, what a sight! You certainly didn’t expect him to be this big and this thick. You get it now when you heard him on the phone with his friends from time to time, bragging about his size. And still, he is damn modest! 

You stare at his hard member, not really daring to touch it even when you crave to do so. And Jungkook seems to read your mind as he delicately takes your hand and places it around his dick that immediately twitches. Just like the rest of his body, his skin is soft, velvety even, but rock hard — you’re not complaining at all. You are completely hypnotized and you instinctively start some light stroking.

Jungkook closes his eyes and breathes deeply through his nose since your touch is delightful. Better than he could ever be able to imagine. Even with his cock in your hand, he can feel your shyness yet your tenderness. You’re an innocent girl doing filthy stuff and someway, it makes him incredibly horny. Call it corruption kink, he’d call it love. Now that he has a taste of you, he doesn’t want anyone else to touch you because there is no way they won’t fall for you. 

“Do you like it?” You shyly ask when you brush his tip with your thumb, sending shiver down Jungkook’s body

“Yeah” He says in a shaky breathe

He cannot control a drop of pre cum from escaping, which makes his tip glistening — and appetizing for you — as you spread it with your fingertip. 

You lift up your eyes and meet a very, very hot Jungkook. His eyes are dark, intense but you still can spot some shininess. It tells you that he likes how you touch him. It’s what you needed to gain  confidence and enhance just a bit your pace around his dick. 

Maybe you’re an expert, or maybe you don’t realize it but you are caressing the very sensitive part connecting his tip to his length every time you go up, and Jungkook is two seconds away from losing it. With a low growl, he quite roughly cups your face and kisses you messily. The sudden force and urge that you feel from him is overwhelming and you don’t even know how to move anymore. That’s why your hand stands still on his member that you feel twitching from time to time — especially when the tattooed man captures your swollen lower lip between his teeth. 

“You are so precious” He whispers and his words seem so profound that your heart squeezes “Let me make love to you” 

You nod instantly because there is nothing more that you’d like but then you freeze as reality hits you. 

“I don’t have condoms” You say but disappointment is as noticeable on your face as in your voice 

Jungkook looks at you, amused. He gives a quick and sweet kiss on your nose before heading towards his bag where his wallet is. With a victorious “Ah-Ha!”, he brandishes a metallic square fold. 

It’s your time to look at him funny and, when he realizes it, Jungkook turns a little bit white — a sign of his panic. 

“It’s not what you think!” He exclaims with urge “I didn’t plan to have sex with you — or with anyone! It’s just that I always have one with me, you know, just to be careful”

You wait for him to stop rambling and open your mouth, amused.

“I didn’t say anything” 

The playful smile on your face cocks a brow on Jungkook’s face. 

“You don’t have to speak, woman, I know what you think” He states as his usual confidence comes back 

You playfully push his shoulder with your foot but Jungkook gently grabs it and settles a kiss on your inner ankle. The gesture is so tender, so intimate and so lovely that your heart could melt out of love. He can’t not realize that everyone would fall in love with him when he acts like that. Everyone is looking for someone that makes you feel this cherished and you just wish you were able to make him feel the same. 

The tension builds up when Jungkook marks his way up your leg with kisses. Each one of them draws delightful goosebumps and wets your pussy a little more. When he is close enough to your core, Jungkook kisses your inner thigh one last time before settling a sweet kiss on your clit and you can’t help but giggle like a stupid teenager in love — but well, you’re in love with him. 

You’ve never been this impatient while waiting for someone to put a condom on but Jungkook seems to shake your whole universe. When he is done and has settled his strong body between your opened legs, he looks at you just like he was wordlessly asking for your consent again, which you grant with a big smile and a light stroke on his cheek. 

He still teases you a little bit when he grabs the base of his cock and slides it between your folds. The pornographic moan that escapes your perfect lips drives Jungkook crazy, and he cannot resist anymore. He needs to feel you. So he places his tip at your entrance and almost faints out of pleasure as your tight cunt throbs around him. He has no other choice than to bury his face in the crook of your neck to prevent from groaning your name, which would be very embarrassing this soon. 

His tattooed hand finds yours and he intertwines your fingers in the best possible as he enters you slowly. You can’t help a gasp and squeeze his hand tighter because gosh, he is big. He is definitely stretching you, almost to your limits, and the pain blends into pleasure — something you’ve never felt. 

“You’re okay?” He asks, not without worry, his eyes scanning your face

“You’re big” 

“Sorry” He apologizes, almost embarrassed 

“It’s so good” You reassure him and you witness relief on his handsome face 

When Jungkook captures your lips again, you feel his urge coming back and he finally pushes his whole length into your cunt. You feel full. Jungkook is big and thick, and he fits so well in you. You wish you could keep him like that forever. Your legs wrap around his firm torso to keep him close, to cuddle him. 

When he settles a slow but passionate pace, you feel like in Heaven. You love how Jungkook makes love to you because he is gentle but he still provides deep and strong dick strokes making you see stars. You moan louder and Jungkook curses when you tighten around him. 

“You feel so right” He whispers in your ears before kissing the thin skin of your throat

His inked hand hasn’t left yours and his other one his gently caressing your boob. His hips know how to move to hit that special place inside you. 

“Fuck” You moan and Jungkook remembers how bad he wanted you to say that when he heard you masturbating

It’s even better when you curse while he is fucking you and that thought spurs him to enhance his pace. Long forgotten is the slow and romantic rhythm, Jungkook has turned into a sex freak. The air is kicked out of your lungs, you can’t even moan anymore: your mouth hangs open. 

“You’re so good for me, baby” He praises you “You’re taking me so fucking good”

His words make you clench and you know that he has felt it because his hand squeezes yours equally. You’re completely high on sex, your skin is sweaty and your brain is fogged. The sinfulness of your clapping skins and the light growls — due to his physical efforts and your magic pussy — in your ears arouses you beyond words. You’ve never been fucked like this before and you don’t want it any other way from now on. 

“You like being fucked like that, uh?” He smirks 

“Yes, yes” You chant, your brain fogged with pleasure of his dick pounding into you 

“Perfect little girl is taking a big fat cock” He grunts and god, how sinful he sounds

“More, more!” You beg

Jungkook looks at you with a mix of awe and surprise — since he can’t believe how naughty his little cute roommate is — but he is happy to provide. 

He digs his knees strongly into the mattress and lifts up his upper body, enjoying the view of your tits bouncing at the same time, and makes sure to pound into your dripping cunt rougher. Your whiny moans are so lovely that even if he would love to drive Taehyung mad by making him hear them, he is selfish enough to want to keep them for him only. 

Your brows are furrowed and your swollen lips are parted to let the most beautiful melody fill the room. You look ethereal and Jungkook is afraid he is dreaming. That’s why, with apprehension, he gently caresses your cheek. But you’re real. You are truly under him, his dick is truly sliding inside you and fuck, the way you are creaming it is insane. 

Your hands desperately grab the sheets while his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs to keep them against your chest. It allows him to get a better access to your pussy and fuck, he is pounding into you even harder. At this point, you don’t even know how he hasn’t broken the bed yet — or you. 

“Look at you” He coos as his dark eyes land where your bodies connect — he swears he could faint at his dick in your cunt “So fucking cute. ‘Could fuck this pussy forever” 

You wish. 

“I’m gonna come, Kook” You notify him 

The first orgasm he gave you was amazing but coming on Jungkook’s cock is a whole other level. Your cunt wants to clench but can’t because of his fat dick, which makes it even better. However, the pleasure is almost unbearable. Your hand instinctively finds his and you intertwine your fingers in a strange way as your digits are trapped between his palm and your thigh. 

“Cum for me, love. I want to feel you squeeze my cock” His voice is so deep that it sounds like a growl 

Your eyes shut down and your toes curl as Jungkook fucks you harder to help you reach your high. You have so much pleasure that a tear rolls down and witnessing it, the tattooed man goes insane. One of his hands finds your sensitive clit, drawing quick circles that make your body shake, and the other one squeezes your cheeks not so gently to help him capture your lips in a messy kiss. His sudden power over your body sends you on cloud nine and you cum so hard that you almost faint. You might scream a broken “Kook” but you’re not even sure and gosh, Jungkook doesn’t even slow down. 

He keeps fucking you hard and fast, overstimulating you — triggering a sob from you. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot” He groans before burying his face in your neck to focus on cumming too 

“Please, Kook, I can’t” You tell him as you’re feeling way too sensitive now 

He stops his ministrations on your poor clit and caresses your boob instead, trying to soothe you a bit, even kissing your throat. He prays you to hold on just a bit: the way your walls throb around his cock is delightful and he knows he is close too. You try to help him by running your hands in his sweaty black locks, bringing tenderness into this wild fuck — something that you don’t know how much Jungkook loves actually. 

He growls at the same time he releases his seeds in the condom. 

“Fuck, it was so good” He pants “You did perfectly, baby” 

He kisses your forehead and your heart squeezes out of how gentle he is. You just wish that this moment never stops. That’s why you hold him tighter when he initiates a move to scoot away. You wrap your arms around his neck, hide your face against his neck. You just don’t want him to leave you — both physically and emotionally. It’s so painful to imagine that it’s the last time you get to cuddle him that you can’t help your tears. 

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Jungkook asks, alarmed

“Please, just stay like that five more minutes” You beg

Your wish is granted and even more since Jungkook’s strong arms circle your body and hugs you tight. 

“Please don’t cry” His voice sounds hurt “I hate when you cry, baby”

Gosh, the pet name is not helping you to accept that this moment was actually one moment. 

“It’s just that I love you too much” You confess and your words make Jungkook lifts his head up to look at you 

He looks a bit confused because your tone sounds like an apology. 

“Is that bad?” He questions 

“No but it hurts. But it’s okay that you don’t feel the same” You try a weak smile despite your aching heart 

“I've just made love to you, Y/N” He says, basically scolding you “I love you. I’ve fallen for you a long time ago” 

Your heart stops but this time it’s because you’re too happy to even believe it. You can’t stop yourself from hugging him again and Jungkook hugs you back, smiling wild in the crook of your neck. He settles sweet kisses and makes you both roll on the bed so you’re on top of him. It’s crazy with how much softness you’re looking at each other, grinning like two idiots in love — which you are to be honest. 

“Say it again” You ask

“I love you” 

“I love you too” You giggle and you swear you could fly right now 

“I have to do things right when we come back” Jungkook announces 

“What do you mean?” You frown 

“I have to take you on a date and do all the things cheesy couples do” 

He sounds oddly proud of it. 

“You want to be a cheesy couple?” You tease him

“First of all, we already are a cheesy couple” He kisses your nose, illustrating his point “Secondly, cheesy couples have the best weddings”

If you get to spend your life with such an amazing man, you’ll happily be the cheesiest couple ever. 

Taglist @gimeow @parapiop7 @mylyus-blog @knjjjk @namelesskeid @nesisrey @somehowukook @turn02 @ttanniett @whoa-jo @sncx3 @vsr4197 @lerasi @coralmusicblaze @mimi122880 @missmorningglory @thatgirliehan @daisiesarepretty7 @vkjmjjk @reallygenerouskoala @hoseokteardrop

So sorry that it took this long but I hope that you guys love it 🩷 If you do, please like and comment 🩷

[ba9go]

(nsfw) bakugou katsuki finds you annoying (you drive him crazy)

mdni 🔞 katsuki being down bad for reader. heavy petting with a lot of sexual tension! 🫢

can be read with part 1 and part 2, or as a standalone too

after coming to terms with his feelings for you, bakugou thought that things would get simpler for him.

he was wrong. very wrong.

the two of you started spending more and more time together. eating lunch together, visiting each other's room after school, going to the gym together.

at some point, bakugou became "katsuki" to you.

"kat-su-ki," you said slowly, dragging his name out as if every syllable was meant to irk him. bakugou freezes, sitting cross-legged in front of you on your bed.

"katsuki." you repeat, watching him carefully with a small, tentative smile that makes his palms annoyingly sweaty. "is that okay?"

"yeah." bakugou, no, katsuki, clears his throat, and runs a hand through his hair. "katsuki's fine."

you ask katsuki to spend the night in your dorm room, and though katsuki disagrees with you calling it a sleepover (to him, it's not a sleepover unless there are face masks and pillow fights involved, but he's not telling you that) katsuki finds it hard to say no to you.

later, you fall asleep in his arms, breathing softly against his chest, and katsuki thinks he's going to die from how hard his heart is beating against his ribcage.

he stares into the darkness and tries to fall asleep, but all he can think about is how soft you feel against his body and the way your warm breath gave him goosebumps when you whispered "goodnight, katsuki" into his neck.

katsuki thinks you’ve ruined his own name for him, because now he doesn’t want to hear it unless it’s coming from you. and god, the things he would do to hear you say his name, over and over and over again.

katsuki wants to. he wants so badly, to make you say his name over and over again, and he thinks it would be so easy to do too. you’re easy to fluster, easy to tease. katsuki wants to make you come apart at his touch, under him. katsuki wants to take you, piece by piece, wants to watch the way you unravel before him.

it gets worse when you started stealing katsuki’s shirts.

katsuki’s heart damn near burst when he came back to his room after the gym to see you cuddled up in his bed, completely engulfed in one of his shirts. he closed the door behind him quietly and stared at your peaceful sleeping face. ‘this must be what cuteness aggression feels like’, katsuki thinks, as he’s hit with the sudden urge to reach over and bite your face off.

he feels stupid, sneaking around in his own room as he tries his best not to wake you and fails miserably. he freezes as you stir awake, sitting up in his bed. your hair is sticking out in ways that katsuki wants to make fun of you for, but he’s too transfixed on the little yawn you let out as you stretch like a content house cat on his bed.

“katsuki,” you murmur, rubbing your eyes groggily. you smile at katsuki and it’s so sleepy and a little droopy and it drives katsuki fucking crazy, and you don’t even know it. god, you piss him off.

“you’re back,” you say sweetly. “you gonna shower?”

“i should shower,” katsuki responds, but makes no move to prepare for said shower. instead, he walks over to his bed, to you, and you open your arms invitingly and how could katsuki ever deny you?

he lets you wrap your arms around his torso and bury your face into his chest. he’s still sweaty from working out, but here you are, nuzzling into his shirt, again like a damn cat that’s all too affectionate. you hum happily when katsuki pats your head.

“you smell so good,” you moan the words into his shirt. it’s innocent, but it drives katsuki insane all the same. he can never think straight when it comes to you, not when you’re all he can think about. his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, and he never knows what to do with himself.

“i’m dirty,” katsuki’s throat is so dry when he chokes out the words.

“so?” you giggle as you look up at him with big, happy eyes, and katsuki is fully reduced to putty in your hands. he’s wrapped around your pretty little finger. “i like it when you’re dirty.”

“yeah?” katsuki lets his hand fall to your neck. he holds your neck gently, barely even squeezing, but the effect it has on you is instantaneous. you become almost limp in his hold, eyes half-lidded as you let out a shaky sigh from your parted lips.

“‘suki,” you whisper. “come here,” you say, but you already have him in your arms, so katsuki presses his lips against yours instead.

katsuki never really knows what to do when it comes to you; he just knows how much he wants you, how you drive him crazy with want, so he listens to those desires until he has you moaning into his mouth when he sucks on your tongue, until he has you rutting your hips back and forth when he slips a leg between your thighs, until he has you coming apart the way he’s always fantasised.

“thank you, ‘suki,” you sound so pretty breathless and it makes katsuki want to steal your breath away even more. “feels so good.” katsuki realises that you’re still grinding against him and it’s so, so adorable.

“yer so annoyin’,” katsuki scolds you lightly, but the smirk on his face is anything but annoyed as he slips a hand between your legs and touches you properly, right where you need it most.

it’s so fucking annoying, the way you drive him insane, but watching you twitch and writhe under him, listening to you beg and moan, so pretty and needy for him, katsuki thinks it’s not so bad, being batshit crazy for you.

maybe part 4. i need to write a bratty yn who loves talking smack just to piss kats off so he’ll fuck em harder 🤪🤪

taglist (thank you for your support!!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @valeriyaaak @v3n7s @deimosjay @zaiban2989 @girls-overflower @notmeduhh @dreamcastgirl99 @busdriver-move-that-ass @atashiboba @kathsuhki @armeenix @channnee @antiwhores @sukunasbottomlefteyeball @kenqki @vikizzy @thesimpybitch @eempxth @hanta-seros-wifey @itztaki @thekidscallmebosss

[belokhvostikova]

𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Halloween had stamped itself as Hawkins' favorite time of the year, where teenager party and murderers prow. And you come face-to-face with that, when a particular masked man takes a special interest in you.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, crying, alcohol consumption, minor sexual harassment, stalking, mention/allusions to murder, and explicit sexual content: groping, degradation, choking, role play (serial killer), mask kink, knife play, oral (male and female receiving), rimming (male and female receiving), squirting, cum eating, squirt make out…?, semi-public sex, dubcon (part of the role play), non con, and unprotected vaginal sex.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | What do you mean it's not Halloween? It's always Halloween. Especially when it involves Ghostface!Eddie. Oh, and this is also a Modern!Eddie story. But wait, can you image Rockstar!Eddie singing "In the Room Where You Sleep" as, like, a Halloween special- I'd have an aneurysm. Sorry, that was a lot of Eddies.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 12.8K

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

“Hey, it’s Eddie… or is it? Ha! No, it’s totally Eddie. I’m busy ignoring your calls, so leave a message or finally take a hin-”

The harsh smudge of your fingertip against your phone screen discerned your frustration, as you hung up with a huff, pacing your clacking footsteps a second faster than before. 

But it all fell short, when the heavy set of footsteps that trailed behind you only quickened to keep up.

Faster. Aggressively. Shit.

For the third time in a row on that brisky night, your call had went straight to voicemail. And you were ready to kill Eddie Munson. In retrospect, castigating your boyfriend for merely doing the very thing you criticized him about on a near daily basis—the whole “stop answering your phone while you’re driving” debacle that took place every time Eddie picked up one of your calls while heading somewhere, then rebutting you with a “but I love hearing your voice, it relaxes me” that he always whined out—was hypocritical, at best, but given the circumstance, you were exhorting to have your boyfriend disobey your word of safety for your safety. 

And the desperation that palpitated from the fervent clicking of your heels hitting against the rough pavement of the sidewalk to speed up your steps was starting to become humiliating. Because one step away brought them one step closer. By the nose, you narrowly glanced back. 

The same mask. The same hood. The same heavy boots. The same entity that followed you through the hallways of Steve Harrington’s wooded, stately home on the night of Halloween. 

Only the clock had struck a quarter past midnight. Halloween was over. The month of November had come. And yet, the figure behind you kept the mask on. Despite the lengthy walk from Harrington’s back patio to the intersection where Mirkwood and Cornwallis met, the mask stayed on. And your heart was beginning to race. You finally faced it. “God, you freak, stop following me!” Their steps halted. Gloved hand clenching around the handle of a knife that you wished to be of plastic. “My boyfriend’s on his way, so fuck off before he gets here!” God, you really hope he was. 

Turning around in a huff, your eyes constricted with frustration, as the steps behind you continued, in sync with yours. Coming closer. And closer. 

It’s just some stupid prank, you rationalized. It was one of the Stafford kids. Probably Declan Stafford. He was alway the worst out of the pair. It was best for your sanity to repeat that mantra over and over until Declan Stafford finally gave in and took off the mask. Only Declan Stafford was a fifteen-year-old sophomore. And you were desperately enforcing the incredulous lie that the possibility of Declan Stafford suddenly gaining muscle and height in the course of a single day was plausible. It wasn’t. But admitting that would be admitting that this wasn’t some immature teenager’s prank. 

And you were actually being preyed upon. 

“Hey, it’s Eddie… or is it? Ha-”

Why?! Why out of all the times Eddie blatantly ignored your concerns of picking up the phone while driving, did he actually decide to listen to you on the one night you needed him not to?! Straight to voicemail. Again. But when you angrily hung up on Eddie’s pre-recorded tone—the one you couldn’t find endearing at this given moment—you heard it- or rather, didn’t hear it. The quietness. The crunching of fall leaves being flattened under heavy boots was no longer lingering. A biting breeze howled, and a hunting owl hooted. But no footsteps. 

You hesitantly turned around…

He was gone. 

Your shoulders fell with the relief of your untightening chest, as your joints unlocked from tension, a foggy breath escaping in solace. For a moment, you relished in the quietness of the night with closed eyes. Something you hadn’t realized you missed so deeply until you had it back in your possession.

With a dissipating heartbeat, you ran a hand over your perspiring face that felt ablaze with terror. But Declan Stafford, or his other half, or whatever other delinquent freak that it was was finally out of sight, and you cursed the juvenility of boys during the night of Halloween. 

Fighting the liquor that buzzed your body with heightened emotions, you blinked the dryness of your eyes to steady the blurred disfigurement of your phone screen. Your thumb smashed against Eddie’s contact once more, a last resort to finally chew him out, as you teetered on high heels to turn back on your trek. 

Only, your steps halted at a sudden obstruction, and you watched the tempered glass of your screen protector crack against the pavement at your feet, as your heels stood toe-to-toe with the boots that plagued you. 

“Hey, it’s Eddie…” Your head slowly followed up the broad, black figure, “…or is it? Ha! No, it’s totally Eddie.” Your stomach sank to the stagger stature that overpowered you. “I’m busy ignoring your calls.” His mask, deprived of anything holy, stalked down your trembling frame, mocking you with the tilt of his head.

Your breath became lodged in your throat.

“So leave a message or finally take a hint.” Your mouth dropped with the words you couldn’t find. And he allowed you the grace of one step back, before…

“AH- mmm!”

The leather of his glove smeared your lipgloss with the tightness of his grasp, as your screams diffused into a muffle of wails. With much resistance, your nails bit through the sleeved fabric of his clothes, but nothing was penetrative enough to deter his strength, merely constricting your flailing body more with a muscled arm. Your enveloped screams cried of defeated desperation, as you lost your footing to the strength of his embrace, now at his mercy.

In the distance, a meandering stray may have startled at the abruption of your stifled pleas. But in the beat of a second, they’d continue their hungry journey for a helpless mouse or scraps, as your screeches would succumb to the darkness of night.

No longer salvageable.

-

SEVEN HOURS EARLIER 

“Mm… saw something touching your head, in the room where you sleep, mm…” You thrummed to the buzzing tunes, scrunching your face as an averse to the tickle of your makeup brush, against your greatest efforts of trying to stay still. 

But with a little black there, and some pink here, you squealed with anticipation of the night to come. 

Autumn had brought a chilling front to Hawkins, Indiana, and the small town of suburbia had never looked so good with a flood of orange and red crunching beneath the tiny feet of early trick-or-treaters. Credits to the Yankee Candle that burned its essence in the corner of your bedroom, the fall season felt at ease with the cinnamon apple that warmed your being. 

“You better run, mm, you better hide…” Should the day ever come that you discover that you were actually singing along to the voice of Ryan Gosling, you’d flip your shit to your boyfriend on an endless ramble, but until then, you’d cluelessly enjoy the ominous tune of Dead Man’s Bones in the name of Halloween.

In the reflection of your vanity, you shifted in the various angles of the beaming sunset until you were fully satisfied with the face paint that decorated your features.

You stood from your place, prancing about to the beat of the music, as you swayed your way to your bed, where your purchased costume displayed itself, awaiting you. While your boyfriend appreciated the art of Halloween, and had much interest in the horrors behind it, the anticipated “costume talk” fell on deaf ears- or, at least, defensive ones. Something about looking stupid, you weren’t entirely sure. Though, what you did know was pointing out the irony of not wanting to look “ridiculous” whilst sporting a mane like his in retaliation was not at all a good idea, as his response came in the form of torturing you in the dramatics of wrestling on his frumpy mattress. 

Touché, to Eddie Munson. It came as a good deterrence away from the conversation that would inevitably lead to him wearing something you sparked from Pinterest. Because in the end, Eddie Munson could never say no to you. 

No matter how stupid he’d look. 

But, as any reputable couple therapist would advise, compromise is key. And where you insisted on a cute couples costume, Eddie met you with the request to, at least, get to choose what that may be. And much props to him, you swooned at the adorable idea of being the abducted cow to his alien. 

Only, Eddie didn’t allow you to celebrate too soon, as he vowed to go the whole nine yards. Devoid, black contacts; gargantuan, bald head; pale, soulless skin; creepy, gross tentacles. “I’m Heidi Klum-ing this bitch, sweetheart.” That night, you regretted ever showing him the moment a 5’9 worm walked the carpet. Something Eddie Munson severely got a kick out of. 

You straightened out your patterned skirt, smiling for the night that was about to come. With shoes needed for completion, you turned to retrieve your platform pumps, only… your peripheral had caught the silhouette of something- someone… staring… watching… stalking. 

Claiming the once calm view of your bedroom window. 

The October chill brought a draft against your mother’s clothesline, where her linens flowed in the evening setting, and there it was. Peaking through sheets, masked, and dark. 

Your eyes squinted to confirm the sight, as you hid behind your curtains, feeling your stomach plummet. What a psycho. Understandably, Halloween had declared itself around the idea of fright, but that came with the common consensus of harmless jumpscares and innocent pranks, not trespassing. “Stupid teenagers.” You mumbled to yourself. 

But a sudden bang from inside your house had you gasping, petrified. “Dad?” The hairs on the back of your neck stood with alarm. “Mom?” Footsteps rang closer.

And closer.

“Hey- woah.” Eddie Munson, himself, flinched at the sudden shriek that left your mouth at the abrupt opening of your bedroom door. His brow cocked at the heaving of your breath, your hand clutching to your chest. “Hey, sorry, it’s just me, baby, you alright?” He eyed you.

“Shit…” You huffed out. “You scared me!” Your mouth pouted at the chuckles he teased you with. 

Eddie smiled, mimicking your pout in faux sympathy. “Why? Thought you heard me comin’ in.”

“Ugh, well, yeah, but some immature kid is-” You turned back to your window, where suddenly nothing but your mother’s laundry hung to dry in the emptiness of your yard. They were gone. “I- what?” You inspected closer, your breath humidifying the glass. 

Eddie questioned your strange behavior. “What?”

You rotated in his direction. “N-Nothing. It was nothing- anyway, what are you doing here?” In an attempt to recover your uncanny nature, Eddie scoffed at the hasty rudeness your tone snapped towards him. 

“Well, for one, your dad let me in.” He stated matter-of-factly. “Y’know, I think he’s really starting to warm up to me.” His eyebrows jumped with cockiness.

And it became your turn to scoff at his presumptuousness. “If anything, he hates you a little bit more this time of year.” Because Halloween of 1984 became the year Hawkins, Indiana was terrorized by the vandalism of hoodlums, coined the “Toilet Paper Bandits.” Plastered on every front page of the Hawkins Post, the column followed the story of homes that became a victim of delinquency. Yours being one. Where you could find a little humor in your house, amongst others, being TPed, your father, as a mortgage-paying homeowner, became quite livid. In fact, you could vividly remember the rage of, “of course, it was that Munson boy,” when surveillance caught your soon-to-be boyfriend smiling sadistically with a roll of toilet paper in hand amongst his friends. “You gave him PTSD. He’s vowed to stay up all night to catch any ‘Munson wannabes.’”

Eddie barked out a laugh. “Hey, now, if it wasn’t for that night, his beautiful daughter wouldn’t be getting treated right by her strong, sexy boyfriend.” He smoldered in pride. And, as much as you could roll your eyes at Eddie Munson, he was far from fibery, as the night that followed Halloween of 1984 was filled with the sincerest apologies to all sufferers of his actions (not really, just you, as he always thought you were cute).

“Whatever, but seriously, though, Eddie, you’re not supposed to be here ‘til later, why are you here?” You interrogated. “I still have to finish getting ready, you do, as well.” You emphasized. 

With calloused hands delicately caressing your face, Eddie thought of his next move. “Aw, look at you, my cute, little heifer.” Because if not buttered up with affection, he knew you’d be devastated at the news to come. 

Your mouth fell agape. “Don’t say heifer!” Your hand collided with his chest. “Say cow! Cow is much cuter than heifer!” 

And he chuckled at your annoyance, always proud of his accomplishments that left you feisty. “You’re right, I’m sorry, baby. You are a very gorgeous cow! Best out of stock! You’d be, like, the one the farmer doesn’t slaughter for a burger.”

“Right, just kept to be bred for the entirety of my life.” While only a joke, you knew his sick mind would run miles with it, as the inevitable lip bite came to play. 

“Ooh, now that you mention it-”

“Don’t even start, you freak!” Your hand brandished over his mouth, only for you to shriek at the contact his wet tongue made with your palm, before taking a playful bite of your skin.  

But with the bite came an abundance of kisses to your fingers and knuckles, as Eddie held your hand close to his lips, eyes peering down at you with caution. “Please don’t be mad at me.” His words mumbled against your skin. 

Your brows furrowed with confusion. “What?”

Eddie sighed. “Boomer called me.”

You knew what entailed when Boomer called. “No!” You couldn’t help the petulant whine in your voice. 

“He wants me at the shop tonight.” Eddie kissed his teeth with a groan. And before your mouth could even form the hurdling question as to why, Eddie was there to clear it up with a sweet kiss to appease the disappointment. “We got a couple’a cars Boomer’s been hounding on us to get finished. ‘Specially, since Rick just had his baby, n’ all, we’re down a man. And y’know, honey, all the guys got wives and kids and shit, it was easier for me to stay overnight, and get as much done as possible.”

“But Steve’s party!” You huffed. “We were supposed to go tonight. We were supposed to do the Monster Mash!” Eddie’s heart sunk at the misery of your face. Where something as silly dancing may have landed insignificant in the grand scheme of life, you were the first person to cement the fact that with Eddie Munson nothing was trivial. 

You cared for the little things with him. 

Your head dropped with defeat. “Aw, I’m really sorry, sweetheart.” He ventured to meet your eyes. “Look, it’s a little extra money, I’ll take you out on a real nice date-”

“No, it’s not even- ugh, I just spent so much time on the costume.” Granted, it was nothing but ordering overly priced cow printed clothes from various websites, but it really did hurt when the hot glue gun came in contact with your finger, as you strived to glue a mini UFO toy to your headband. “I really wanted to go-”

“Sweetheart, please go.” He encouraged. While not the usual rhetoric, as Eddie Munson always prided himself in being by your side, especially with events such as an infamous Steve Harrington Halloween party, he could put it aside if it meant you’d enjoy your night rather than sulking alone on Halloween.

In retrospect, should you have done so, maybe you still would have been alive today…

“Just promise me you’ll stick by Harrington and Rob, okay?” Despite the slumped shoulders of disappointment, you nodded to his request, and pecked his chin to pacify any guilt he may have been harboring for the turn of events. “Or hell, even Wheeler, saw her bitch out Carver for accidentally knocking over the newspaper stand, and with the look on his face, I trust her to do more harm than Stevie and his Farrah Fawcett hairspray.”

“I’m gonna look stupid just being an abducted cow.” You huffed, as you examined your DIY alien spacecraft headband, puffing out a giggle at the extensive amount of hot glue it took to secure the toy to the hair piece.

And Eddie Munson was right there to laugh along with you. “Believe me, baby, with what I had planned, you would’ve looked more stupid with me.” With a pout still distinguishable through your pitiful giggles, Eddie gently kissed your forehead, careful to not smudge the black spots that adorably littered your face. “I’ll try to finish up as fast as I can, and make it before the cops turn up, okay?”

“You sure you won’t be too exhausted?”

“To do the Monster Mash with you?” Eddie scoffed. “Hell no!” And he smiled, as your chest erupted in a bubble of laughter. “Might smell a little like grease, but so be it. Hell, I’ll even stop by the trailer, and come as an alien mechanic. Probe you with my wrench if you’ll let me.” 

Eddie flicked out his tongue, and you squealed, as he attempted to smother you in his perverted ways. “Get off of me, you freak!”

“Alright, alright.” He calmed you through your fit of chuckles. “How ‘bout,” he quickly kicked closed the door of your bedroom, “you show that little number you’re wearing tonight, so I can know what’s waiting for me? Little motivation, if you will.” He winked. 

“Ugh, my dad really does hate you, y’know?” Your arms instinctively caught around his neck, as his veiny hands gravitated to your ass. 

Eddie derided. “Ha, just ‘cause I love eating my raw, juicy steak.”

“Ew, you perv!” Your laughter was concealed by the capturing of his lips.

By the grace of your closed bedroom door, your parents were spared from the spank of Eddie’s hand against the meat of your ass that rippled with a stinging clash.

Eddie moaned. “You love it. You so fucking love it.”

You did. You so fucking did.

-

In the lonesome of the darkness, Eddie smiled to himself. The heat of his phone radiated against his skin, warming his cheek, as your squeals brought a joy to him like no other. “Oh, my god! You guys look so cute!” Even through the static of distance that blurred with the background of house music, your voice still lit a desire in him that could never be extinguished. “You’re- Eddie, they’re so cute!” Sandwiched between your shoulder and head, you played around with Robin’s tie, as she—among Nancy and Chrissy—geeked at the enthusiasm of your compliments. 

Despite his absence, your refusal to his exclusion left you detailing the present moments of Steve Harrington’s party over a call that surely overheated the phone. And what Eddie figured was the greeting of your friends may have left you a bit distracted from him, your distant conversation was enough to have him chuckling to himself, relishing in the moment that made it feel as though he was actually there.

“Ah, you even added the tattoos on your hand!” You screeched. “Oh, and your hair-” You moved onto Chrissy.

“It’s a wig! I couldn’t commit, ugh!” She clarified with a drunken slur that confirmed the group was well acclimated to the party, before you had arrived. 

“Eddie! Eds!” 

Eddie huffed a laugh through his nose. “Yeah, baby, I’m here.”

“Chrissy’s Phoebe! A-And Nance is Lucy! And, of course, Robin is Julien!” You shouted over the thrum of the music. “And they’re all wearing their matching suits! Boygenius! You remember? T-The songs I showed you?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I remember, sweetheart.” Eddie smiled, a wish so vastly that he could experience your face of pure zeal. “Take pictures, baby, I wanna see it all.”

“Aye, where’s your other half?” Breaking through the static, that frat voice was far too familiar for Eddie to ignore.

“Oh, baby, please tell me if Stevie’s wearing something stupid!” He begged. If it wasn’t for the things Eddie Munson could hold over Steve Harrington’s head, their friendship would’ve succumbed to the awkward tension that came from being polar opposites in the hierarchy of high school. Call it karma for all the comments from The King’s friends that irritated The Freak’s life. But it was the teasing that allowed their “hatred” to manifest nicely. A genuine development into frenemies. And given that Halloween of last year was spent with Eddie Munson berating Steve Harrington on his “lazy” choice of a costume—nothing but pants with tiny, red flags held within his waistband; i.e., a walking red flag, i.e., Steve Harrington’s excuse to walk around shirtless—The Hair, himself, vowed to come up with something more… creative.

Your laugh vibrated through the speaker. “Oh, Steve, what are you wearing?” Your hand clasped over the shock of your gaping mouth. 

Eddie practically lunged through the phone. “What?! What is it?!”

“Your boyfriend isn’t the only one who can rock a vest.” Steve’s cockiness garbled through the heavy gulp he downed of whatever tainted his red solo cup. And with the vest, accompanied the tightest jorts you’d ever witness. Something old, like the Levi’s of his sophomore year, found in the ensemble of polos and sweaters of his closet that he could commit to destroying. And that he did, with the kitchen scissors of his mother, those pants turned into shorts, that then paired with knee pads and boots. “I’m Steve!” He spat into the mic of your phone, after drunkenly stealing it from your hands. “‘Stone Cold’ Steve Austin!” That Farrah Facett hair spray wasted to good use to slick back his mane.  

Leave it to Steve Harrington to find a more creative way to be shirtless on Halloween night. 

Despite now being pressed against the warmth of Steve’s ear, you could hear the guttural laughter of your boyfriend echo through. “Steve, give me my boyfriend!” You whined. 

But your pleas went unheard. “Oh, man, I told you I was going all in!” These were the guys that claimed to hate each other? Yeah, right. “Nah, the girls are lovin’ it! Got the abs out n’ everything! All I gotta do is ask ‘em to wrestle, and they’re gigglin’ their shit off! I’m so getting laid!”

“Give me my phone back!” Your efforts fell unaccomplished, though. 

“And where’re you at, man? I’ve got people asking for your supply! Thought you were comin’.” You rolled your eyes at the lost cause repossessing your phone became. 

But you allowed your boyfriend to be virtually stolen, as the entourage of lesbians had plans to whisk you away to get something in your system for the night. Though, without his presence for reassurance, you were conscious of what you could manage, and kept it light enough for your body to buzz with relaxation. Eventually, your strength was able to pry away your phone from the sweaty hands of Steve Harrington, but not before his booze breath pervaded you with the stern information that he was in charge of you for the night, as per request of Eddie Munson. But, with pupils dilated like his, distractions being as easy as beautiful ladies walking by, and the atrocity of his outfit that left no room for seriousness (or the imagination, for that matter), Nancy Wheeler threw you the responsible look of understanding that she’d cover that shift. 

By the dead of night, you’d succumb to the rhythm of the music, and let your body fall to the beats that vibrated your soul with liberation. With bodies decorated in costumes swaying against you from every direction, you never minded the tease of a hand brushing your skin. Packed like sardines in the humidity of an October party, accidents were bound to occur. 

But accidents don’t repeat.

And when fingers started squeezing, your head whipped around, only to catch what was a glimpse of a masked man slipping away. Through the beer goggles you harbored, you blinked at what looked far too familiar for your liking, but between dancing silhouettes and blinding strobe lights, your drunken mind couldn’t confirm what you didn’t want to know.

“Hey, you alright?” Robin’s breath fanned against your cheek, as she pulled your attention from the blank directions you were staring into.

You dryly swallowed. “Um, yeah…” Spoken far too unconvincing for your friend. “Just, uh, Steve wouldn’t let, like, um, underclassmen in, right?” 

“What, no, why?” She invited. “Shit, don’t tell me Dustin and the little rugrats are here!” Her sporadic eyes started bouncing from corner to corner. 

“No, no.” You brushed off her concerns, before they amplified to the degree of telling Nancy Wheeler. “Just thought I saw another freshman or sophomore, like, one of the Stafford twins.”

At the mention of the name, her eyes rolled on cue. “Those little shits? Yeah, wouldn’t put it past them to try to crash.”

Robin Buckley hadn’t known just how relieving those words were to you. With a solidified threat entailing your boyfriend, you could control the tiresome plague of teenage boys. But a pit in your stomach lingered where you didn’t like, as you briefly looked over your shoulder, but nothing but blended bodies blurred your vision in a haze. You took a deep breath, swiping the sweat that beaded along your hairline.

Clinging to her tie, you pulled Robin close to tell her of your departure for another drink. While allowing you to do so, her instructions of “not too much” trailed behind, landing on defiant ears. Your thrown thumbs-up was a lie, as more booze was felt necessary to rid that precedent feeling that still stiffened your hairs in apprehension. Because the what if's were beginning to outweigh the most likely occurrence; that it was someone dangerous stalking you, not one of the Staffords or their peers.

Navigating passed figures, your heels clicked against the kitchen tiles of the Harrington household, where sparse bodies littered about; a pause to the intensity of the late Halloween hour. 9:57 P.M, blinding you against the photo of your boyfriend, as your eyes blinked to adjust to the harshness of your phone screen. 

Holding up ok baby

Awaiting you for the past seventeen minutes, you clicked his message, and scrambled to respond, before any concerns were drawn from your stagnation. 

Yup, yup! Pretty packed, so I’ma getting a drink.

Your buzzing, inebriated mind conjured back. And within the pause of a couple seconds, the bubbles of his response appeared. You frowned. The image of Eddie bored out of his mind, surrounded by the cold metal of the mechanic shop, with nothing but fumes and grease tormenting his body had pestered your mind with guilt. 

Are you okay? 

Bored?

Would you bea ble to come? Now!

Leave it to your intoxication to interrupt his pending bubble. Though, there was never a care on his end. A smile always invaded his face when you were on the other line.

I’m ok sweetheart 

Not too much to drink ok

Not yet baby got some cars still needing a fix but I’ll try to make it as soon as possible

I love you

Your shoulders slumped with the huff that exasperated from you. You shoved your way past the drunks that habited the cooler, as you pried a beer bottle from the ice. Too annoyed to deal with the water droplets that froze your hand against the glass, you settled on plucking a cup from the stack.

 😡

I love you, TOO!

With a groan of all your strength, you popped the cap against the counter, letting the metal clink against the floor. You watched with blank eyes, as the amber liquid aggressively swished within the plastic, hearing the echo of your breath pounding against your ear. But, in the matter of a second, the hairs of your neck shot with heightened alarm, your heart following soon after with a beat anxiously faster than before. 

You stood frozen, your eyes darting, but ultimately losing to the depth of blackness surrounding you. Nothing. It had to be nothing. 

Until the air from your nose fell motionless, and your chest became inert. 

The breathing… continued. It was never yours to begin with. 

You swallowed thickly, before whipping behind you, flinching back at the staunch build of the man in black. In an eerie contrast, his blindingly white mask scrutinizes your wavering frame. 

Your mouth fell open to his arm that shamelessly came around your waist, and suddenly your hands were shoving against the density of his chest to pry him off. “You pig!” The words involuntarily flew from your mouth to spite him. In retrospect, seeing the broadness of his shoulders run along the towering height of his stature should have been enough confirmation that what you were dealing with was far beyond the likes of a juvenile teenager, but with a drunken mind fueled with vexation, you lost the necessity to see clearly. “Touch me again, and I’ll have you thrown out, asshole!” You spat back.

In an attempt to put an end to all of this, your hand gravitated towards his mask, hoping to peel off the confidence that cloaked his cowardness. But as your fingertips grazed the plastic, his gloved hands snatched a harsh hold of your wrist, forcing a gasp to be caught within your throat, as you flinched back. 

Nothing but the black eyes of his mask pierced your soul, as he stood silent, his hand flexing cruelly against your skin. 

Your chest heaved with the rapid beat of your heart, as it took all your strength to release yourself from his restraints. You quickly grabbed your drink and phone, not wasting a second to run away from the man, who did nothing but watch you run off in the blur of the crowd. 

Much to his dismay, it was you dragging Steve Harrington away from the pretty lady that was giggling her way into his bedroom later tonight. “W…What the h-hell?” He hiccupped. 

“Can you kick that person out?!” Your urgency came with your aggressive finger pointing towards his kitchen. “God, they’re being creepy and weird, a-and they were, uh, they were touching me-”

“Okay, okay, just take a breath.” Steve calmed you through your inebriated panic. “What guy? What person?”

Because when Steve Harrington followed the trail of your finger, it all led to the emptiness of his kitchen. Nothing but the casual partygoers, who did nothing but huddle in the corner, nursing their drinks. “Him… uh, h-” You squinted the hazy booze from your vision, but no matter how harsh the blinks were, he was gone. “H-He was just there. The, um, the Scream mask guy, y’know? Him?!”

“I- Y/N,” he really tried to give you the grace of understanding, but with liquor coursing through his body, and the clash of your consternation with the thudding of the booming music, Steve Harrington could hardly process the events unfolding before him, “the Scream mask guy?”

“Yes!” You forced out with frustration. 

Steve blinked. “There’s, like, fifteen people wearing Scream masks, Y/N.” Your eyes fluttered to your surroundings, hitting every corner of the Harrington residence, where Halloween truly brought out the most lethargic efforts of a costume: Scream masks. Steve watched your face fall in defeat, as his hand ran over his face in guilt. “Hey, look, just stick with us, okay? No more walking on your own. If they come back, you get me, o-or Nance, Robin, okay? Anyone.”

Steve’s eyes didn’t let up, until your head slowly nodded to his words. 

“And tell Eddie, before he fucking kills me.” Steve sighed, fanning his breath out. While you could appreciate his concern, you weren’t so keen on the babysitting nature of Steve Harrington’s efforts that he just couldn’t resist, as he guided you to the corner of the couch, and told you to stay put.

Effortlessly, Steve was able to maneuver his way back into the ropes of his rendezvous, all while a pout brandished your face, as you watched the rest of your friends unreservedly lose themselves to the night. 

Your thumb hovered over Eddie’s contact. 

Surely, the news would be broken to him, regardless, yet the dread of doing so still came with some hesitation, as you knew your boyfriend would be fuming in the lonesome of a garage, forcibly unable to focus on the work at hand, as he worried about you. And with the distance at play, it’d anger him beyond recognition, and despite not being his faults, he’d take it as so; not being there when needed, that is. 

Please don’t ger all weird and mad…!

You’d imagine that incoming pang of your message alarmed him, given how quickly those bubbles were to appear. His messages hurdling even faster. 

What the hell happened

Are you ok

weird? What weird? I don’t get weird

HELLO? 

Baby you have 5 seconds to respond

Your thumbs twiddled quickly to appease his inevitable worrisomeness. 

Someones being creepy at Steve's. 

Like, bothering me and trying to touch.

Me

And it’s really pissing me off. I had to tell them off just so they could back off. I’m sitting on Steve’s couch now.

And you could read his impending responses from a mile away. Because when it came to you, it was inescapable. 

I’ll be there

And that’s all it took for you to lurch forward in your seat, and risk the opportunity of catching a cramp in your hands, as your fingers took a tight clutch to your brightening phone screen. If it wasn’t for the music, nothing but the clacking of the digital keyboard would have infested your ears. 

No! 

No, Eddie, really, it’s okay!

I already got it handled. I told Steve, and he said he’d kick them out if they tried it again. I’m okay, really.

Don’t leave, Boomer will be angry with you. I don’t wan you to get in trouble because of me :(

Christ, you had just wanted to Monster Mash. But with hot bodies having no regard for your space, as harassment entailed you throughout night, and now the potential of a heavy admonishment waiting for Eddie from Boomer should he leave, nothing but a disappointed scowl danced across your face. And while you could appreciate the kindness of your boyfriend’s heart- really, you could, you could also find frustration in your boyfriend’s lack of awareness for consequences. Because, yes, it was unfathomably sweet when Eddie rushed to your side, when you simply texted him about the pains of your period. Though, what followed was an angry boss, who chastised Eddie for leaving in the middle of his job, only to punish him with a closing shift on your anniversary date.

Not fun. 

And with Cedars Evergreen Farm opening itself from the daily pumpkin patch to a nightly movie drive-in, Eddie had promised you an intimate date in the back space of his van, and you’d be damned if you lost your date night to the consequences of his actions. Eddie Munson had to stay.

The bubbles appeared. 

Stay with Nancy.

A period. Eddie Munson never punctuated. In fact, run-on sentences were his specialty. 

I mean it Y/N.

But, at the very least, you could relax—somewhat—with the knowledge that his profession and your date weren’t compromised on the night of Halloween. Your fingers typed away.

I won’t! Swears! <333333

I love you so much!!!

Ransacking through tubes of lip gloss and a tin of Altoids, your compact was pulled from the clutter of your purse, before it flipped to showcase your tipsy reflection. Aside from the minimal perspiration that smudged the edges of the patterned spots, you looked the cutest you could despite the night you endured, and some handsy delinquent with no manners wasn’t going to ruin that for you. 

Call me if something happens I’ll be there eventually stay safe and kick his ass if he does something else

Just kill him baby. 

Honestly.

I will eventually so what does it matter if you get to him first :)

As he always managed to do, even when not present, you giggled at the vulgarity of his words. With the tip of your finger, you cleaned up the imperfect smears of your makeup, before smacking your lips together with a lather of your seductive plum gloss. With a zhuzh of your hair here and there, you stood from your miserable place on the couch, choosing to ignore the chastising gasp from Steve Harrington, as you made your way to the girls. 

The audacious woman she was, Nancy Wheeler had wasted no time securing her hand around your wrist. “Hey, is everything alright?” Her voice amplified over the music. “Steve told me what happened.”

Though her stern eye was cold, you eased her worries with a flail of your hand, throwing something along the lines of “Eddie knows,” because if Eddie Munson knows, it’s taken care of.

Shoving the bothersomes of the night to the back of your mind, you graced the buzzing music with a warm welcome, as your body danced with the likes of Boygenius, and their carefree moves that came about with a burning cup of booze.

If Eddie Munson couldn’t be there to experience the thrills of Halloween—perhaps, being punished by running off kids who attempted to vandalize the garage; true karma—then, at the very least, you could retell the events with the blur of photos that claimed your photo album for the night. 

-

As the hours passed, your vision succumbed to the haze of alcohol that electrified your body. Strobe colors blended with the movement of strangers’ figures, and time seemed to slow, leaving you vulnerable to the predators that preyed upon you.

You saw him. Or maybe him. Every turn of your head, your eyes gazed upon the white mask that haunted your vision. In every corner. In every direction. But the liquor on your lips left your mouth numb and impuissant to the party your body craved, entrapping you in a defenseless state against his terror. 

You watched from outside of your body, as your limbs betrayed you to the laxness of your inhibitions. 

And through the darkness of your surroundings, you watched that taunting face creep closer and closer with every dragging blink of your eyes.

Robin Buckley twisted to the heavy hand on her shoulder.

Your pupils were blown out. “I-I need to use the bathroom.” Your tongue lapped at the dryness of your lips that cracked under your heavy breathing. 

“Okay, I’ll go with you.” She shouted over the music, but your head insisted otherwise with drunken fervency. 

“I’m j-just” hiccup “gonna call Eddie.” You steadied yourself on wobbly ankles. “Had too much to drink, I-I’ll call him to pick,” hiccup “pick me up.” To hell with Boomer.

Robin’s warm thumbs swept under the smudged eyeliner that rimmed your eyes, with sparkles that once was packed onto your lid now dancing along the highlights of your cheek. She regulated you with a small smile. “Don’t wait alone, okay? Come back here when you’re done.”

You nodded slowly to appease your gnawing headache. 

One step at a time, your surroundings seemed to slow, as your vision tunneled to the bathroom at the end of the hall. Feeling like a mile away, your fingernails grazed the smooth surface of the floral wallpaper that clung to the Harrington abode to anchor you for the trek, as drunk bodies alike shoulder checked you with no regard. 

When you felt the clank of your heels against the linoleum, your breath released with all tension, as the door slammed behind you shut, and you relished in the warped quietness the secluded bathroom was able to proffer you.

Flicking the light switch on had your head pounding and eyes harshly binding closed. 

The toilet creaked under the weight of your slumped body, as you blinked your vision straight to find an array of messages awaiting you. 

Feeling okay baby? I’m lonely without you sweetheart these cars are boring me half to death need to see you soon or I’ll die

Finishing up soon, you doing alright baby

Heading out sweetheart

I’ll be there in a couple minutes

You sighed in relief, fumbling to click his contact, and letting the ringing line massage your head. “Hey, princess.”

The static of his grumbly voice pacified your racing heart from an alcoholic adrenaline rush. “Eds.” You exhaled in peace. 

“Y/N.” You could make out the smile that lingered on his lips, as his tongue spoke your name. “Get my message? I’m heading over as soon as I get changed- and don’t get on me just yet, I haven’t started driving, so I’m not putting myself in danger.” He laughed. You always were quite serious with that ‘One Text or Call Could Wreck it All’ motto- well, at least, with Eddie Munson you were. He didn’t have an extensive relationship with the Hawkins PD for no reason.  

“No!” You whined into the call, lips pouting to their fullest extent. 

“No?”

Composing yourself, you settled into a deep breath. “Don’t change. J-Just come get me.” Your voice managed to mumble a response. 

“What’s the matter? Something happen? Are you okay?” His voice swore into your ear, the vigilance of it so prudent with protectiveness. 

Your hot palm smashed against your cheek in exhaustion. “Just drank too much. Got caught up, and now I’m too- I don’t wanna be here without you. Wanna go home.” Your slurred words bleated. The staticness of his sigh rang out in a heavy breath, and you knew an upbraid was to be waiting for you the next morning, after he kissed you okay with Tylenol and a hearty breakfast. Eddie Munson always did have a knack for setting you up for the keelhaul that disguised itself in affection. Really, the only time the adult man showed responsibility. “No mean words.” You fussed. “Not now, at least.”

“No mean words, baby.” Eddie soothed. “Okay, just give me a few minutes, alright? I’m leavin’ as we speak. Harrington’s house is not too far, should be around Mirkwood in five.” You nodded, despite the on call conversation. “You hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah, Eds, five minutes.” You ignored the dull ache of your toes, as you conquered standing on straight feet. “Thank you, baby.”

A chuckle huffed through his nose. “No need, sweetheart, just no more drinking, okay? No goodbye shot with Robin or Stone Cold.”

You absentmindedly giggled at the image of Steve Harrington. “Okay.” You sighed. “No shots with Stone Cold.”

“Atta girl.” He smiled. “Alright, just hang tight for me, shouldn’t be long.”

“I love you.” Your breath dragged on.

“I love you way more, so you lose.” Eddie could vividly picture the pout that etched itself onto your mouth. 

And it was his laughter that you last heard, as your jutted lips grumbled a “meanie,” before hanging up, because in your drunken stupor, that competition felt like a real loss. 

Turning to the mirror, you flinched at the state of your look. Luckily, Steve Harrington had no plans of having a lights-on party. Rummaging through his family’s unmentionables, you pummeled a fistful of cotton swabs onto the counter, drenching each end with the sink’s faucet of water. 

A bit of coldness brought some release to your hot face, as you followed the edges of the painted black spots that smudged with the perspiration of your skin. But in a blink of a second, the bathroom door rattled with a single bang. 

Your face twisted in confusion, your body stopping as you waited.

But silence was all that met you, and you blinked your eyes close to think straight. 

Steve Harrington’s house was packed with fifty plus strangers and acquaintances, all who whooped and hollered with an all you can drink display. It wasn’t irrational for a drunken body to collide against a door or wall in an attempt to seek a bedroom.

You sighed, continuing your task of trying to look slightly presentable. But Steve Harrington’s bathroom door didn’t hold up to another aggressive knock that left its hinges vibrating with the harsh hit. 

You swallowed thickly, aiming to ignore the hairs that stood across your body.

“S-Someone’s in here.” But a suffocating atmosphere of pure quietude was all that came in response.

Goosebumps terrorized your skin, as your chest heaved with the heavy seconds it took to wait for something- anything to occur. You quickly discarded the stained cotton swabs, before slowly approaching the door. 

Your trembling hand gently caressed the brass of the golden door knob, and with a swift swing…

Nobody.

To the right of the hall, the blackness led to the shed of light, where all party goers gathered in the setting of the living room. Your shoulders slumped with relief. 

And to the left-

Your heart plummeted. Heavy breathing echoed from his mask, as his built towered over your stature. The grotesque intimidation shot your eyes sober, as your stomach heaved with the terrifying sensation that consumed you. 

Pathetic whimpers poured from your mouth, as you took caution steps back, only for him to follow with each movement. 

Screw waiting. 

The epinephrine from his bone-chilling presence detoxed your body dispassionately, as your legs found the momentum to run away into the crowd. 

Yet, as you looked back, he all but laid back and watched, as he stood in place, taunting you with no effort. Almost getting off on how easily you scared.

But you weren’t going to be a part of his game anymore. Halloween was over as of 12:14 A.M. You were going home.

Shoving past interlopers, you scoured your way to the less densely populated area of the back patio. Stragglers were all that occupied the darkened backyard, lingering on outdoor loungers, surely tainting Mrs. Harrington’s cushions with cigarette smoke and beer stains alike. 

“Hey! Where’s your boy toy tonight? Been wanting to buy!” You barely acknowledged the slurred voice of a prospective customer, as your attention became engrossed with watching the dancing bodies through the glass door. 

For a mask. 

You barely spared him. “Not here.”

But not a flash of white in sight. 

The grumble of his buddies reverberated, as maybe for once, you’d be left alone for the night. 

“Well, then, can I get something from you?” The crudeness of his smirk was palpable without you needing to turn around. The whistling of his friends only fueled the anger more. “How ‘bout just a handy for double of what your boyfriend offers for a half ounce?”

You rolled your eyes. Yeah, screw waiting. “Fuck off.” 

Taking the graveled path by the gardens to reach the sidewalk, you shook off the residing anger of perverted boys and creepy stalkers, and sucked in the chilled air that the night brought forth.  

“Ugh, stupid people, stupid party,” and as the universe would have it, your ankle bent against the icing on the cake—a pebble, “ah, and these stupid fucking shoes!” You exasperated with a juvenile stomp to your foot. 

Luckily, the Harrington manor had the luxury of wooded solitude, where bystanders lacked, giving you the freedom of unleashing your annoyances with grumbles that would have had late night joggers crossing the street to avoid your strangeness. 

“This party sucks.” Your mouth groused, fingers typing fervently. “Couldn’t stand to wait, I had to leave.” The owl hooted, and crickets chirped. Nothing but the point of your heel scraping against the concrete sidewalk to accompany the midnight songs. “How far are you? I’m walking, you’ll probably see me.”

This party sucks! 😠

Couldn’t stand to wait, I HAD to leave!

How far are you?

I’m walking, you’ll probably see me.

In the year and some months change spent as Eddie Munson’s special lady friend—as he loved to say—you’d never once had to grapple with the nonchalant facade boys your age seemed infected with. No, your Eddie was never one to shy away from fast texting, hell, even double- no triple- no quadruple texting. He liked you, very much so, of course, he was going to show it. Even if it came in his uniquely Eddie ways. How the hell was waiting four hours to respond under the guise of being “busy” supposed to turn you on?! Eddie Munson had one goal, and it was to make you his girlfriend. To hell with slow texters! 

And yet… the bubbles never appeared. 

But with how clouded your mind had become with the turn of events the night took, you carped to yourself, clicking your phone off with an agitated slam of your finger, and continued your trek with hunched shoulders and a down spirit. 

Crushing leaves and kicking rocks was all you could succumb to in the face of boredom, as the hope of hearing that god awful exhaust with its metal music to pair driving down the street only grew stronger with every ache of your toes. 

“Of course, of course! All this would happen to me.” Contrary, conversing with yourself seemed to be the only semblance of sanity for you at the moment. “Should’ve just gone trick-or-treating. Should’ve just staked out with my dad.” Ah, yes, who was still, in fact, located behind your mother’s shrubbery, cocking his head at every giggle a passing teenager made. “Ugh, stupid boys!” The bane of your existence. You stomped with anger, “Hate everything,” you huffed. “Hate these shoes,” oh, how you would apologize to them when the time was right, “hate these clothes, hate my life-”

You slowed your steps. Confused.

The ribbit of a frog leaping from lily pad to lily pad was all too familiar with the great puddles that dampened the forest environment. The pine trees, too, did their usual of entangling their branches in hugs with one another, as the midnight draft brought them closer. 

Normal. Everything was sounded normal… except… the whistling. 

No, not the rustle of wind, or the buzz of cicadas, but the sinister taunt of his hunt.

Your head whipped behind you, where your eyes rounded at his silhouette that drowned under the single flickering street lamp. 

Whistling. Preying. 

Your legs started without a moment’s notice. Though, your platforms only allowed for such limited speed, as you hastily dialed Eddie’s contact. Every impending ring sank your heart deeper and deeper, as the pit of your stomach felt as though it was going to collapse in on itself. His whistling only a few feet away. “Hey, it’s Eddie-”

“Eddie?!”

“Or is it? Ha! No, it’s totally Eddie. I’m busy ignoring your calls, so leave a message or finally take a hint.” 

“Ugh!” Frustration hung up the phone, as you no longer found the charm in his childish voicemail greeting. “God, just pick up.” Your steps quickened to a slow jog. “Pick up, pick up.”

The ringing had simply become torment to you now. “Hey, it’s Eddie… Or is i-”

You whined in exasperated disbelief. 

“Fuck.” The whispers of your dread passed through your lips, as a stolen glance back only confirmed the proximity of which he managed with ease. Two jogs forward was a simple step for him.

Your chest heaved under the mounting pressure and the fear that tore your stomach to shreds. Your legs felt numb against the terror, and suddenly, your eyes were clamping shut with wishful thinking that all of this was just an unbearable nightmare, because through your quickening breaths, the heavy steps of his boots sounded closer… and closer…

-

Nothing but a flood of trees swallowed your surroundings, as his taut grasp of your body forced you into the dark abyss of a desolate forest.

Your throat ached at the screams that ultimately surrendered to a deadened buzz against his hand, as nothing but the crunch of leaves that snapped under his weight was all that could be heard in a miles radius. 

With an elbow to his ribs and a kick to his shin, you gave it all your might to escape from his clutches, but your efforts never came to fruition, as the skin of your body became pinned to the scraping bark of a tree. 

His heavy breathing rang against his mask, as his face taunted yours, watching the tears stream down your cheeks, as snot congested your wails. “Aw, don’t cry, my little… heifer.”

Slowly, your nails relented from his arm, and your eyes turned to bore into the black ones that adorned his mask. “Eds…?” His loosening fingers around your mouth allowed your whisper to speak. In a moment of clarity, his smell became all too dear of cigarettes and cedar spice. Your Eddie. “W-Wha… Eddie, wait, what’s g-”

Though, as your body began to fall slack under the ease of his familiarity, his sinister laugh only mocked your moment of vulnerability, as he exploited your weakness to have his heavy body pressed against your backside.  

“Oh, what a sweet body to slaughter.” The depth of his voice had your heart now beating with something more than fright. “You wanna make it to the sequel, baby?”

Because suddenly, the night of September 4th came to memory. 

Nana Munson’s—may her soul rest in misery (an avid believer of corporal punishment against a rowdy seven-year-old Eddie Munson)—couch had fallen to the impressions of both yours and Eddie’s body, as the Saturday evening brought laziness against your energy. Secured between his legs with your back falling lax against his chest, your eyes lulled to the scratches Eddie provided to your underboob against the imprints of your now discarded bra.

But the cries of Tatum Riley, as she capitulated to her death by garage door, had blinked your eyes awake. “Think it was Stu?” Your face scrunched under the sudden loudness of his voice. Much to his credit, though, Eddie hadn’t been aware of your drowsiness. 

“Huh?”

“Y’think Stu killed Tatum?” He reiterated. 

Your brows furrowed. “No way, that was his girlfriend.”

His chuckle reverberated from his chest. “Clearly, that didn’t mean shit.” Spoken truthfully, as her lifeless body dangled above. “But surely he had to be the one takin’ the reins on that one, he set her up.”

“Set it up, sure. But killing her? Nuh-uh.” Eddie laughed at your definitive state. “He had the whole party to host, someone would’ve noticed him missing. Plus, no one was expecting Billy to even be there, giving him the most perfect opportunity to do it.” You disseminated factually.

“Okay, okay, so wait.” Eddie cleared his throat. “You’re saying Billy snuck inside the house, then back outside, and just went all the way around like that, hiding the costume n’ all, to kill her? Someone totally would’ve seen him.”

With a debate at hand, you attempted to sit up, but his greedy hands held you back, wanting to continue to seek solace in the body heat your boobs generated. “Okay, it’s odd-”

“Really odd.”

“But, Billy’s calculated, y’know.” You retaliated. “If either of them are going to pull it off, it’s going to be Billy. You know how, like, clumsy Stu is. He couldn’t have done it.”

Eddie dramatically brushed you off with a pestering psh. “You’re just sayin’ all that, ‘cause you like Matthew Lillard.”

“Please, everyone knows Billy killed Tatum.” You laughed. “This has nothing to do with Matthew Lillard being hot- ow!”

His nimble fingers squeezed at your pebbling nipples, as he menacingly chuckled in your ear. “Swear, I’ll put on that fucking mask and have my way with you if I hear you call another dude hot.” But oh, how that thought, itself, was already having its way with you. Wriggling in his embrace, your actions did not go unnoticed by your boyfriend, as he eyed the rub of your thighs. “Oh, you like that!” He smirked.

“What?” You squeaked, fighting through the endeavor of avoiding the eyes that tried so hard to look into yours. “No, I don’t. Y-You freak.” But the heat of your face was palpable, and Eddie reveled in the bashful embarrassment that he could elicit within you.

“Oh, you so do, baby.” He sneered in your face, the silver of his rings stimulating goosebumps on the canvas of your skin, as his hands cupped your fullness. “Hm, want me to fuck you with that mask?”

You whined at his words. “Eddie.” 

“That’s honestly hot as fuck, y’know?” His voice dripped with arousal, as his hands roamed your belly. “Letting me fuck you to spare you, fuck, throw in that knife you like. Begging for you life, shit.”

And with that hand of his sneaking between your legs, who were you to remember a one-off conversation from over a month ago?

The trunk of the tree bit at your cheek, as he forcefully affixed your body to the rough surface. Cold metal clashed against your thigh, and suddenly the scrape of a blade was shooting chills through your body; his pocket knife. “Ugh,” his groans intensified, as his hand got lost under the ruffle of your skirt, letting your clothed cunt be teased by the sharp edge, “the things I could do to you. And not a single soul would hear. Not your screams. Not your cries. Just completely at my mercy.”

You gasped at the unforeseen slice that ripped your panties in two, forcing the ruined lace to be soiled in the ground below you; the night’s draft now blowing against the flooding wetness of your exposed folds. “Please.” His laughs were all that met your pleas. “D-Don’t hurt me.”

Oh, what a fantasy come true. 

Your teeth pierced into your swollen lip, as the flat edge of Eddie’s knife abruptly pressed into your clit, its coldness sending shockwaves to the hot bundle of nerves that had your hips driving back onto his pulsating bulge. 

“Don’t hurt you?” He mocked. “Oh, but how fun would it be if I did. Huh, my little calf?” The fear that stirred in your belly was only able to ease for a second, as his sharp blade finally left your core, but only to trace the skin of your naval. “To bruise your skin, break your morale, violate your body- ugh, this pretty, little body.” His knife severed your tiny shirt in two, expelling your breasts. Eddie’s gloved hand then bunched your skirt at the hip, letting the cool zephyr nip at your naked body. “God, look at that.” His harsh hand groped your ass, pulling your cheeks from one another to see the glistening of your pussy under the moonlight. “And I can just do anything with it, huh?”

“I’ll do a-anything, I-I- just please, I’ll let you do anything, just let me go-”

“Oh, no, baby, look at you.” Eddie’s stature followed down your squirming figure. “You’re never leaving me.” Before you could get a word in, his strength brought you to your knees, your skin digging into the dirt and discarded panties of the ground. In a flash, his knife pressed to your tensing neck, as his mask stared you down from his height. “You better fucking show me how much you think your life is worth.”

Your manicured hand wasted no time to undo the metal clasp of his belt, as Eddie sighed at the relief his throbbing cock felt from the confined restraints of his jeans. Precum drenched his boxers wet, and behind that mask, your boyfriend smiled at the delicate kisses you offered to his body, despite the debauched scene at hand. 

His cock sprung with an angry tip targeting your face, and your graceful fingers found themselves scratching at the unruly curls of his pubs, before wrapping around his girth to pull back to the sticky skin of his cock. 

“Mm!” You moaned, as you tongued at his head, collecting the budding seed that oozed from his hole. 

His hands didn’t hesitate to grapple onto your scalp, bringing you forth with dramatic moans, as his pocket knife rested against the plumpness of your cheek. “Ooh, fuck, yes.” His teeth clenched tightly. “Shove it down your fucking throat like your life depends on it.”

Your tongue salivated along the underside of his dick, as your lips latched onto his length, constraining you to take all you could of him. Drool pooled at the corners of your mouth, coating him in your spit that allowed your slick hands to jerk him with burning friction. His hips couldn’t help but drive forward, and he selfishly ignored the chokes that restricted your throat taunt, merely giving him something tighter to fuck. 

“God, let me trash that pretty fucking mouth of yours.” His hairs tickled your nose, as a mess of spit and precum slung from his cock to your chin. Hollowing your cheeks had Eddie’s mewls echoing from his mask, as your eyes peered up lovesick at the sight of his bruteness taking all he felt was his.

He tapped your cheek disrespectfully, forcing you off his cock, only for his heavy hand to shove your head lower. “C’mon, you know what to fucking do, you fucking slut. You wanna live? You wanna go back to your boyfriend?” He laughed, playing his part menacingly. “You wanna be able to suck him off with that same fucking mouth you sucked mine with, you better make me fucking feel good, or you’ll be no use dead in the woods.” 

Your mouth locked onto his heavy set balls that shoved itself in your face, and you suckled at the velvet skin, pulling it from his body, and feeding it into your mouth with whines of satisfaction. Your wet muscle tickled his legs numb, with his knees buckling at the massage he forced out of you. 

And inch by inch, your tongue teased the expanse of his taint, until he felt it prod at his pulsating hole, and he forced your face deeper between his thighs, as nothing but his cock and balls swallowed your face. “You dirty fucking whore, ugh!”

Such an intimate spot, his musk invaded your senses with nothing but Eddie, Eddie, Eddie flooding your surroundings. His thick thighs suffocating your face; his leg hairs nipping at your cheeks; his balls smashing against your nose; his cock leaking on your forehead. There was no leaving Eddie Munson. 

He consumed you. 

“Dirty that fucking face, shit, m’gonna make that pretty fucking face filthy!” Eddie rode your face, forcing your tongue to plunge into your tight asshole, as you tried to keep up with his rough movements. “Eat my fucking ass, all your worth doing—shit, shit, fuck, I’m gonna—shove your fucking tongue in there!” 

Your nails clawed at his thighs, branding red streaks to bleed against his pale skin. 

But unexpectedly, you were rammed onto the dirt with a gasp of surprise leaving your mouth, as his barbaric strength manhandled you onto your tummy, blatantly ignoring your struggles.

His heavy weight suppressed your body to your ground, as his merciless hand came around your jaw, squeezing your face. “Smile, baby, big fucking smiles.” Eddie forced your lips to pucker. “Want nothing but smiles outta you while everything is happening. Show me how pretty you are- how happy you are to have me violate you, how much you love this.”

You felt his dense cock poke at the globes of your ass. “You gonna be a good fucktoy, and let me ruin these holes, huh? Not going to make a noise? Not going to tell anyone? Yeah?” You whimpered at the thick head to pried your sticky lips apart, catching your clit, only to glide back to your sopping entrance that clenched with need. “And I’ll let you live, I’ll let this pretty body live. Yeah? Go back to your boyfriend, but you’ll still be mine, no? When you’re leaving his, I’ll take you on the street. In the middle of night, when your clueless parents are asleep. When you just want to live in peace, but I’ll be there to wreck it, because this body’s mine. It’s all mine.” 

His cock intruded your pussy. “Ah! Yes, yes! Make me take it!” Dirt stuck beneath your nails, as you attempted to cling onto the ground. 

“Fuck!” Eddie bleated, as he fell balls deep, flushed to your back. “My fucking play thing.” He punctuated with a rough thrust. “My fucking pussy to use.” 

With seven inches pumping deep, the ridges of his cock rubbed against your sensitive g-spot, as your cunt stroked him of his precum; a ring of your mixing cream flooded at his base to splash his naval dirty. Your arm managed to snake back, pushing the endeavor to slow his hips from the rapid pace he was fucking at, but his hands shut down your futile attempts.

“Nuh-uh!” He masked pressed to your face, your arm now pinned to your ground. “You said make you take it, you’re gonna fucking take it!” Eddie’s guttural voice vibrated against your ear. 

“Y-Yes! Whatever you say! Please!” Your neck ached with the stretch Eddie was forcing to keep your head up. “Use me! Need you to use me!”

The veins of his cock were hammering with desire, as all his blood pumped to his groin to keep it hard until it got the release it was begging for. And he did all to get you there, as your walls were quivering around his length, your cries bleeding through the tight hold his hand kept to your jaw. The woodland creatures of Hawkins, Indiana were perking their ears at the wails of what they could only infer was an innocent critter being preyed upon; not too far from truth. 

Your soft walls kept him warm against the biting chill of the night, and by the way your back was arching to shove your ass deeper into his pelvis could only mean you, too, were selfishly begging to satiate that aching need.

“Mm, fuck! Look at that ass.” He peered to see the fat of your cheeks recoiling against the snap of his hips. “This fucking ass and cunt- such a dirty, little fucking cunt.” His chest peeled from you, as cold wind satisfyingly blew against the sweat that marinated between your hot bodies.

The leather of his gloves stung against your cheek, as his heavy hand came to spank your jiggling roundness, while he moaned at witnessing the length of his cock get lost in the crevice of your ass. Peeling them apart, he eyed your winking hole, and propelled his hips forward, so your neglected asshole could get a tickle of his pubic hair, as he ground himself against you. 

Your skin slapped together so violently in the waking hour of early November. Writhing beneath his body weight, your body could only hold back for so long, before you succumbed to your needs. 

“So fucking sick in the head, y’know that? Such a pretty face with such a sick head.” Eddie’s hand came to constrict your throat, thumbs digging into your pulse points. “You love this, love me abusing you, abusing this filthy fucking pussy—augh, shit, shit!” His cock twitched under the clenching of your cunt that fluttered from his degradation. “I’ll defile it until no one wants you- no one but me! But fucking me!”

He jackhammered in dick mercilessly, until your hole clamped shut around him; your nipples scraping against the dirt with every drill of his hips. “C-Can’t—ahh—take it anymore! Too much! Stop!”

“Mm! You can hate this as much as you want, but your slutty body fucking loves it.” His fingers found themselves on your thudding clit, harshly circling it with the soft material of his gloves. “Cum for me, baby, cum on fucking cock!”

The muscles in your stomach were cramping, as the pressure was mounting against your core. Eddie’s muffled moans were proliferating by the seconds, and his wet balls were seizing against your pussy, nearing the end of self-control. 

“I-I won't tell anybody, just let me cum! Please, please, please! No one, just between you and me!” Your pathetic blabbings had him laughing through the pain of his straining, aching cock.

Without a care for the tiny bugs that swarmed the dirt beneath you, your head dropped with the wails of your orgasm, as your body trembled with the overpowering sensations that wrecked your body lifeless. Your vision fell black, and all that could be heard was Eddie Munson’s fuzzy voice screaming with the release of ropes of cum that flooded your pussy full. 

Unable to kiss you with the barrier of a mask, Eddie did all but purr and meow, as he displayed his affection with clumsy headbutts, as your bodies fell slack in the middle of the woods. 

Slowly, as your vision came to be, and the blur was gone, your peripheral catched Eddie’s head menacingly turn, as he examined your lax state. And that laugh- that sinister laugh pooled your stomach with fear. “I’ll never be done breaking you.” 

Before you could protest, Eddie manipulated your lenient limbs, and knocked you onto your back with your heavy legs falling entrapped in his strong grip. Hoisted in the air, your oozing pussy opened up to him with your thighs pinned to your dirty chest. But you knew your body, sensitivity was buzzing deep within, and you wouldn’t be able to handle anymore.

Your weak hands ventured to slap his head away, but his strength overpowered you, and for the first time tonight, the mask came off. You bawled at the attachment of his full lips eating at your clit. “I’d love to send you back to your boyfriend with my babies stuffing you,” the vibrations rippled inside you, “but he’d know too much.”

Back and forth, his tongue trekked from flicking your bud, splitting you in half, and prodding at your tight asshole, where sticky arousal seeped into. “Augh! S-Sensitive, Eds!”

Eddie merely chuckled into your cunt, breaching it with the point of his tongue to lap all that flooding inside you. The tang of your pussy never tasted so good with his piquant cum, as his mouth ravished your opening, pulling and sucking your folds with the fervent shake of his head. Gluttony was committed with how unforgiving he was with gorging your wetness into his mouth, proceeding back to bully your bundle of nerves, until your body was jerking with trying to flee his inescapable hold.

“Stop! Eddie, I’m gonna- f-fuck, really, Eds, I can’t!” You tried to desperately plead, but if there was anything Eddie Munson loved more than you, it was actually just you completely at his mercy.

Consuming the cum from your pussy, your legs locked and trembled around his head, and instantly, warm liquid was inundating his mouth. Your cries from the aching release of your squirt bled sinfully with his moans from your taste, creating the most depraved music of your intimacy, as your eyes lost the will to focus on anything else, but the glowing moon against the night’s blackness. 

But in the haze of your inebriated mind, your boyfriend had crawled his body over yours, where mouths quickly connected. Only, the opening of his lips invited your squirt to soak onto your tongue. And it stayed there, swapping between your jaws, as both of you made fleeting attempts to consume each other with loving desire, until everything was swallowed from the intensity.

And all that was left was Eddie Munson smiling down at your blissed out face, his chin scintillating under the moon.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He caressed your face. “Would’ve just abducted you, but probing you felt more fun.” He teased at the irreparable damage done on your innocent cow costume.

You breathlessly laughed, refuting his words with an incredulous shake of your head. “Whatever happened to just asking me to take you to my leader?”

Eddie giggled, kissing you okay with delicate pecks that greatly contrasted from the lascivious events he put you through. He had sat up, degloving his hands—now drenched in perspiration from the confining heat—to brush away the specks of dirt that clung to your breasts. “Here, lift up for a second.” His now gentle hands helped guide the torn piece of clothing from your upper body, where the soft fabric now became a clean-up cloth for both your bodies. “I’ll get you new clothes,” Eddie groaned, seeking to squeeze his head from the hoodie that he took off, now proffering to you, “promise, sweets.”

“Help me up, don’t want a worm near my vagina.” He laughed at your whines, hands coming to entangle with yours, as a firm arm around your waist helped leverage you on wobbly legs. 

“Yeah, sorry for the lack of set up.” Eddie swiped the dirt off your bare butt. “Though, don’t think a nicely laid blanket and candles would have really fit the whole horny-violent-serial-killer vibe, y’know?”

“Well, duh. You can’t light candles in the woods, that’s dangerous.” Christ, you really were something to appreciate. “But, no, seriously, that was-” you eyed him excitedly with precious giggles, “that was really good. Like, better than anything I could have fantasized Stu Macher doing.” And felt the consequences of that joke with a sharp pinch to your ass. “Ah! Okay, okay!”

Eddie guffawed in your face, planting a searing kiss onto your hairline. “You’re insufferable, y’know that?” He hugged you tightly. “But you liked it? Not too much- hell, too little, you freak?”

“Nuh-huh, perfect!” You sweetly piqued, until you diverted with a swat to his chest. “But, Christ, Eddie, you really scared me! And lied to me! I thought some lunatic was following me!”

“Oh, come on, when have I ever let you go to some rager alone? A Halloween one, at that?” 

You pouted. “You made me hate Boomer just a little.” A guttural howl bubbled from him, as he went to pick up the discarded mask and pocket knife that was strewn about, your shirt and panties followed, gathered in his other hand. “And I have to throw these away.”

“Throw away?” His brow cocked, evidently in disbelief, as he examined your underwear. “Just because they’re sliced doesn’t mean they can’t be shown any love. Nothing I can’t add to the collection.” He smirked with a wink. 

“Damn it, Eddie, give me back my seamless ones, they’re the only ones I can wear with leggings without getting lines.” You remembered.

And his eyes couldn’t help but teasingly roll back. “Alright, alright, careful with the branches, baby.” Side by side, Eddie guided you through the wooded area, until the quiet sidewalk he once kidnapped you from came in sight under the yellow streetlights.

Though, while you two had your fun of kink exploration, unfortunately, your dear friends were nearly killing themselves over trying to find you three blocks away, plotting operation plans as to what may have occurred. Lying where it was once dropped, you grimaced at the piling text that bombarded you, when you picked your discarded phone.

Hey, I’m okay! Swear it, Eddie picked me up! So sorry! Was too drunk to stay and tell you! 😖

Hopefully, the off brand Lucy Dacus would be lenient enough to spare you for the night. You could face their wrath tomorrow.

“Oof, gotta spend the night with me, before Wheeler kills you.” Eddie’s nosy trait had him reading your messages over your shoulder. 

“It’s your fault! Ugh, you’re actually going to get me murdered!” You groaned, while all he could do was arrogantly smile at his work, until you abruptly stopped with a gasp. “You decided to sexually harass me all night instead of doing the Monster Mash with me?!” Christ, that pointed finger was so accusatory. 

Eddie’s hand flew up in defense. “Sweetheart, I swear I’ll give you all the Monster Mashing until Thanksgiving.”

“Y’know, I think this was all just your way of getting out of dressing up.” Your eyes squinted with the interrogation.

Oh, how you wanted to eat that sly grin away. “And fucking you? Yeah.”

“Ugh, you perv!” Eddie caught your hand before it could swat him, giving him the leverage to torpedo a swarm of open-mouth kisses to your face. “Okay, okay! Truce!” He combed your hair straight, chuckling at your disheveled state. “So, that was really you stalking me?”

“Yup.”

“At the bathroom?”

“Uh-huh.”

“In the kitchen?”

“Totally me, baby.”

“Outside my window?”

“Yea- wait, what?” Eddie flinched back in confusion. 

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Earlier today, when you came by. Y’know, watching me from my window?”

Eddie’s steps immediately came to a halt, as his face blended into concern. “Sweetheart, I never stood outside your window.” He declared. “Yeah, I came by, but seriously, your dad had just let me in. Who the fuck was at your window?”

You rejected the conversation, choosing to continue to walk. “Stop, Eddie, don’t scare me. You already have enough.”

“Y/N, I’m serious. I never stood outside your window.” Eddie Munson’s eyes were never one to genuinely lie. 

“M-Maybe it really was just some kid, then.” You rationalized. 

“Alright, look, let’s just really call it a night, and get home.” A protective arm secured you to his body. 

Because perhaps in the night, your drunken mind did notice two figures watching you that were simply chalked up to one. Maybe, the second one was the one watching from the corner, then from behind a tree. Maybe, it was the one that quietly stalked twenty feet behind with a knife that shined too brightly under the moonlight to ever be plastic.

Don’t you know couples who have sex on Halloween night are the first to die?