#Dreams of sharp teeth - Halloween | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

godsfavdarling · 26 days ago

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Vampire in the corner

my masterlist

+18

pairing: Spencer Reid x vampire!fem!reader words: 3,3k summary: You pay a late-night visit to your human boyfriend. warnings: smut - unprotected vampire x human sex, biting, blood drinking, blood obviously, i don't know anything about chess, AND if I had a vampire gf i'd let her bite me. just saying, no y/n a/n: surprise! happy kinktober and halloween to all my spencer reid bitches! AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY HUSBAND BOYFRIEND WIFE LOVER THE LOVE OF MY LIFE THE FATHER OF MY CHILDREN! this is everything you could have asked for - vampire gf, halloween, smut, chess, love, lust, sharp teeth, birthday spence (if you want to fight in the comments about his bday date pls do but I'm not fighting with anybody. I know my truth.) also this is 1000th post on my blog. happy 1000 posts to me! there's so much to celebrate omg!!!

The night draped itself around the room, thick and quiet, broken only by the deep, uneven breaths coming from Spencer as he lay on the leather couch.

His face, usually so composed, was twisted in sleep, his chest rising and falling faster than usual.

You could hear the subtle hitch in his breathing, the rapid thrum of his pulse as it raced through his veins. The nightmare had its claws sunk deep into him, gripping and torturing him with no mercy.

Your poor Spencer.

If you could pull his nightmares into yourself, taking them into your mind just so he could get some rest, you would do it without a second thought.

Anything to grant him a night of peace.

But you couldn’t. You were left watching.

The notion lingered in your mind, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had the pleasure of a dream—or a nightmare. The release of sleep had been lost to you long ago, and so, too, the comfort it offered. It was a need you no longer possessed.

But if you could make it yours for just a night, you’d take his burden without question.

You clung to those thoughts, using them as a fragile distraction, but the pull was impossible to ignore.

Your senses flared, every inch of you attuned to the sharp, tantalizing scent of his elevated heartbeat.

It tugged at something deep and primal, stirring a hunger that made your fangs press against your gums, threatening to emerge.

Your mouth felt heavy, a bead of saliva pooling as the instinct to feed sharpened with each beat of his pulse, loud and insistent.

The temptation to move closer—to soothe him and to taste the warm blood rushing just beneath his skin—scratched at the edges of your self-control.

But you held back, swallowing hard, anchoring yourself to the cool corner of his apartment.

Instead, you stayed there, simply watching, willing yourself to be his silent guardian rather than the predator your body begged you to be.

You’d gone away to feed, filling yourself as much as possible, hoping it would dull the ache that his presence always stirred in you.

Yet, what was the use? You could have drained the whole neighborhood, and still, the warm, honeyed scent of him would seep into your senses, making your mouth water.

His breathing quickened, his brow glistening with sweat as the dream tightened its grip on him. You felt the tension coiling in your muscles, the craving gnawing at you, but you stayed rooted, waiting.

You wouldn’t wake him. Not like this.

Suddenly, Spencer gasped, his eyes snapping open, wide, and clouded with fear. He bolted upright, his hands trembling as he rubbed at his eyes, lost in the remnants of the nightmare.

He didn’t see you.

He just sat there, breathing, his chest rising and falling in shallow waves.

You felt a pang of doubt—maybe you shouldn’t have come. Maybe he didn’t want to see you tonight. But you needed to.

“Spence…” you said softly.

His head whipped toward the sound, eyes wide with surprise as they landed on you in the corner of the room, near the open window. The one he always left cracked just a bit, so you could slip in whenever you wanted.

“Hi. Sorry… have you been here long?” His voice was rough, edged with lingering panic. He blinked, processing your sudden appearance, and you could see a flicker of fear before something softer settled in as he took you in.

Stepping forward from the shadows, you softened your gaze, a faint smile curling at your lips. “Are you okay?”

Spencer rubbed his eyes, still trying to shake what was left of his nightmare, but the fear clung to him like a fog.

His pulse had slowed, though not entirely back to normal. He glanced at you again, the dim light catching your eyes as you stepped closer.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you asked gently, your voice low and soothing.

He shook his head, his lips pressing into a tight line. "No," he mumbled, his tone making it clear he didn’t want to revisit whatever had plagued his sleep.

You watched him for a moment, a soft sigh escaping your lips. "Um… Happy Halloween," you said, a playful note in your voice as you tried to shift the mood. "It’s past midnight, and… it’s your favorite holiday."

A small, almost reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"And… happy belated birthday," you added, softer this time, your gaze dropping for a moment. "I’m sorry I wasn’t here."

He tilted his head slightly, curious but not pressing as you trailed off, leaving your apology unfinished.

The truth was, it had been too sunny lately. Those bright days always left you weaker, and hungrier, and each one had chipped away at your control bit by bit.

You hadn’t fed properly in days—it had been too risky to stay close to him, not with your hunger simmering just beneath the surface, ready to snap. You needed to leave, find solitude, and regain your balance before the temptation grew too strong to resist.

To resist him.

"I had to go for a bit," you continued after a pause, your voice carrying a hint of something unspoken, "but I’m here now."

Spencer nodded a flicker of understanding in his eyes. Though you could sense his quiet curiosity, he didn't push for more.

Instead, he glanced at you, his body slowly unwinding, the tension softening from his shoulders.

“Thanks… for the birthday wishes,” he murmured, his voice gentler now. “And for being here.” His gaze drifted to your hands, clasped behind your back, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

“Oh… this is for you,” you said, noticing his furrowed brows.

From behind your back, you pulled out a neatly wrapped package and handed it to him. “I got you something,” you added softly.

Spencer looked surprised, his brow lifting slightly as he took the gift from your hands. His fingers brushed the wrapping, hesitantly and carefully, before gently peeling it open.

When he saw the chess set nestled inside, a genuine smile broke across his face, softening his features.

“A new set,” he murmured, clearly pleased. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

The pieces and board glistened under the dim light, beautifully crafted. One set of pieces was clear and entirely transparent, like glass, while the other was foggy, milky white—elegant and striking in their contrast, each piece glinting with a subtle shimmer.

You returned his smile, a flicker of warmth rising in your chest. “Do you want to play?” you asked gently, knowing it might help calm him after the nightmare.

His face lit up even more at the suggestion. “Absolutely! I’d love to!” he replied eagerly, his earlier tension melting away.

With a huge grin spreading across your face, you took the chess set from his hands and finished unwrapping it, satisfaction bubbling inside you as you realized your plan had worked. It wasn’t complicated; all you wanted was to see him tonight, for him to like the gift, and to share just one game.

You didn’t ask for much, especially since you knew you were putting him in danger. He might not fully understand the risks, yet he still seemed to want to be with you for some reason.

Deep down, a twinge of guilt gnawed at you. It always did. Burden and comfort simultaneously—that’s what he was to you.

You felt so deeply for him, even as you knew it didn’t make sense. This couldn’t last—not with your world and his being so different.

If you were any smarter, you would have disappeared from his life long ago. But how could you? You understood each other so well, and the thought of letting that go felt unbearable.

Not now, at least.

You knew you would have to leave and never come back someday, but for now, all you wanted was this game of chess.

Spencer rubbed his face with his hands, pushing his hair back in a familiar gesture. He was still dressed in his button-up shirt and suit pants, the remnants of a long day he must have had.

He settled onto the couch in front of the coffee table, and you took a seat on the opposite side, on the floor, keeping your distance, carefully moving a few books to make space for the chessboard.

As you began to gracefully arrange the pieces, a mix of excitement and sorrow washed over you. You loved him and these moments so much, but they were fleeting, it would all be over soon.

Spencer watched you intently, a flicker of admiration in his eyes. “You start,” he said, his voice low and inviting.

“Okay.” You quickly made your move, pushing a pawn forward with a sense of purpose.

“Opening with the pawns, huh?” he remarked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

“Gotta start somewhere,” you replied, leaning in slightly, feeling the familiar thrill of competition.

He took a moment, his brow furrowed in concentration. Then, with a graceful motion, he moved his knight.

You tilted your head, examining his choice. “Using your knight so soon?” you teased, fingers hovering over a piece.

“Sometimes, it's good to make unexpected moves,” he replied, glancing up at you with that curious glint in his eye.

You smirked, nudging another pawn forward. “Oh, I’m unpredictable, too, don’t worry.”

The game stretched on until, finally, the inevitable checkmate descended. Spencer’s triumphant smile faded as he glanced from the board to you, sensing the end not just of the game.

You let out a soft sigh, letting the moment linger before standing. “Well, I should probably get going,” you murmured, already feeling the tug to stay just a little longer.

He met your gaze, a flicker of something in his eyes, “You don’t have to leave yet,” he said softly, almost as if hoping to halt time.

You stood up, feeling a mix of reluctance and responsibility. ”Spencer…”

He rose with you, his expression shifting from playful to earnest.

He reached out, gently grasping your hand, his touch sending a warm shiver through you. “Can you stay a little longer? It’s still a long time until dawn.”

You hesitated, caught in the depths of his gaze. “I don’t know, Spence. It’s better if I—”

Before you could finish, he stepped closer, capturing your lips with his.

You felt his warm lips on yours and then his tongue between your lips. Your own must feel so cold, you thought, pulling back instinctively.

“Sorry,” you murmured, unable to meet his gaze.

You’d kissed before, but you still couldn’t shake the thought of how strange it must feel for him—your cool skin, so different from his warmth.

“What are you sorry for? I kissed you,” he replied, his voice soft but steady.

“I just… I must feel so cold, so unpleasant to touch.”

He persistently searched and held your gaze as he reached up, cupping your face in his hands. “You’re the most pleasant thing I’ve ever touched,” he said, sincerity lighting his eyes.

A soft laugh escaped you, and you looked away, feeling vulnerable under his intense eyes.

“I mean it,” he whispered, guiding your gaze back to him.

Before you could think of a reply, he kissed you again, his lips gentle but insistent, stealing away any protests that lingered on the edge of your mind.

You knew you shouldn’t, that maybe you should pull away.

But maybe just for a moment, you could allow him to make you feel good. Allow yourself to be held by him. Allow him to have you.

“Could we at least try? I trust you,” he murmured against your lips as he slowly guided you both toward the couch.

“You shouldn’t…” you whispered between kisses, even as he sat down and pulled you onto his lap.

“But I do,” he said, his voice filled with certainty. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing your body close against his chest, his lips trailing from your cheek down to your neck, kissing softly again and again.

His hands traveled up your back, slipping beneath your shirt, fingers pressing into your skin.

You buried your hands in his hair and leaned your head against his. Careful though not to bring your face too close to his neck. You could still smell him very well, too well.

You had to move away.

You dropped your head back, unable to stifle the moan that escaped you as his lips found the other side of your throat, leaving slow, heated kisses, each one like a spark against your cool skin.

You could smell him—his blood coursing just beneath the surface, its pulse throbbing under your palms. You could practically feel it moving through his veins.

You closed your eyes, reminding yourself you didn’t have to breathe.

You could handle this, you told yourself. You would handle this if it meant giving him what he needed.

You’d give him anything.

With determination equal to the tide returning to shore, you stopped your breathing and brought your hands to his face, kissing him deeply.

Your lips met his again and again, his summer-warm mouth against your winter-cold one. His rosy pink, blushing skin contrasted with your own.

His hands moved up to cup your breast, fingers gentle yet firm, and you gasped into his mouth, a new surge of desire spiraling through you.

You dreamt about this.

You needed this—sometimes, it felt like you needed him even more than blood itself. Nights were spent wanting him, aching for what you knew could never, and should never, happen.

Every time his warm hands found yours, your dead heart seemed to beat again, pulsing with something that should be forgotten.

For these past few months, that desire had coiled tighter within you, growing.

And it felt like the same was true for him, both of you caught in a spiral of longing—desperate, demanding, on the verge of breaking.

His fingers continued exploring beneath your shirt, his touch warm and insistent, and you let yourself lean into it, your hands slipping down to the buttons of his dress shirt.

One by one, you undid them, your fingers brushing against his chest, feeling his heartbeat unsteady and strong beneath your touch.

Spencer’s hands left your back briefly to help you, sliding the shirt from his shoulders and tossing it aside before his hands found you again, this time tugging your shirt up over your head.

He took in the sight of you, his gaze trailing over every inch as his hands followed, gentle but reverent.

His lips found your shoulder, pressing kisses down along your collarbone, igniting shivers you have not felt in years.

You let your fingers drift to his belt, undoing it slowly, deliberately, as his hands roamed up your sides, tracing over every curve, sending your dead pulse racing.

He leaned back slightly, watching you, his breath a little unsteady as he helped slide the belt free.

The pull between you both was intense and undeniable, and you wanted him more than words could say.

You stood up, slipping out of the last of your clothes and letting them fall to the floor, baring yourself completely before him.

Spencer’s gaze traveled slowly over your body, studying every inch with quiet admiration.

His eyes softened and his voice was almost a whisper as he said, “You’re beautiful… so incredibly beautiful.”

A thrill ran through you at his words, and you returned to him, straddling his lap again, feeling the heat of his skin against yours.

His breathing quickened as you reached between you both, freeing him from his pants.

His cock, hard and ready, brushed against you, and you guided him to your entrance, sinking onto him slowly, already wet and done.

His head fell back, a deep groan escaping him, and you began to move, setting a rhythm that made both of you shudder with each slow, intense movement.

As you rode him, lost in the rhythm and warmth of his body, you found yourself leaning in, your lips grazing the curve of his neck.

Just one inhale.

Just one.

Unintentional but all-consuming.

The rush of his scent, his blood beneath the surface, hit you like a shock.

You pushed against his chest, pushing him back just enough to keep the warmth of his heart at arm’s length, your palm firm against his skin to hold him there as you continued moving, keeping that tantalizing closeness but staying just far enough away.

He looked at you, a flicker of confusion, and then something darker, more intense. “Bite me,” he whispered, eyes heavy-lidded, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you kept riding him, a playful deflection.

But his hand came up, covering yours against his chest, his gaze steady. “I’m serious,” he murmured, his voice low and certain—an invitation and a plea.

“It’s my birthday,” he added softly, almost as if admitting it to himself.

You couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not anymore,” you murmured.

“Please,” he whispered, his eyes locked onto yours, the weight of his plea stirring something deep within you.

His words sent a thrill through you, and though you kept your rhythm steady, you couldn’t deny the pull of his request, the way it made your dead heart somehow pound.

“What if I can’t stop?” you asked, the question trembling on your lips.

He met your gaze, unwavering. “I don’t care. And I trust you. I know you’ll stop,” he replied, his voice thick with sincerity, a quiet confidence.

You could see it in his eyes—how serious he was, how much he wanted this.

The hunger you felt mingled with a deep longing, and you took a deep breath just to taste him again on your tongue.

Just his smell - so intense, so delicious.

It filled your senses, intoxicating and overwhelming.

Just one bite, you thought.

Just one gulp from his beautiful neck.

Just one. He offered.

How could you say no?

Just one.

You leaned in, tilting your head to the side of his throat, your lips brushing against his warm skin.

The world around you faded, leaving only the thundering of his heart and the fast pulse beneath your lips.

You could taste him already, your senses heightened as you studied the soft skin of his neck, your fingers grazing it gently.

His hair fell across it gracefully, and you tucked the strands behind his ear with one hand, tilting his head slightly to expose more of his throat with the other

You leaned in closer, your fangs barely grazing his skin, lingering there as a silent promise.

You could stop.

You would stop.

You could feel his breath hitch as you bit down gently at first, savoring the moment, but soon sank your teeth in deeper, taking two swift gulps.

The metallic richness flooded your mouth, a heady mix of sweetness and warmth that sent a jolt of pleasure through your entire dead being.

You pulled away, blood glistening on your lips and covering his skin.

He kept staring at you, but your eyes were fixed on the red streaming slowly down his neck, covering the small punctures you’d left in the perfect spot.

His blood still lingered in your mouth, and you savored it, licking your lips and teeth, gathering every last bit before swallowing.

A low, involuntary moan escaped as the taste stayed on your tongue, the richness of him filling you in more ways than one.

Without thinking, you leaned down, your lips tracing his chest, shoulder, and neck as you licked the blood from his skin, savoring every last drop of him.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #vampire!reader #spencer reid kinktober

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xxacademy · 22 days ago

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i want to fucking tear you apart

Vampire!Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

MDNI 18+

You’ve found yourself wrapped up with a very possessive vampire who worships you as his girlfriend, but dominates you in bed. His fangs literally drip when you do as he says.

!!content/warnings: porn w/o plot, vampire feeding on you, blood. lots of blood, penetrative sex, oral sex, mutual masturbation, begging, sub reader, pet names. mentions of afab anatomy.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: happy halloween my loves!! to celebrate here’s some absolute vampire leon filth for all who dream of being consumed by a vampire <3

Dark, fresh blood seeps down your bare chest, clinging to your breasts. It’s your own blood, spilling from your neck like a horror movie. You feel light-headed yet unbelievably euphoric as the vampire watches you smear your own blood around your body, touching and teasing yourself.

He licked his lips, flashing those unbelievable fangs. Little splashes of your blood crimsoned his white poet shirt. He loves it when you play with yourself. His cock is rock hard and dripping through his trousers as you pump yourself with two fingers.

He won’t touch himself, not yet. Not until he feels like he’s got enough out of you.

He watches from a Victorian velvet chair, chin resting in his hand. You, on the other hand, take up the entirety of his bed. Staining his white linen sheets with crimson blood.

“Say my name when you fuck yourself,” The vampire demanded.

You grabbed your breast and pushed your fingers deeper inside yourself, “--Leon,” You gasped.

He bit his knuckle, “Again.”

“Leon, mhmm— Leon.” You panted his name over and over. Yearning for it to be him fucking you.

There was no way the vampire could take it much longer. He was grinding his hips against his pants, intense predator eyes devouring you whole with just his mind.

He starts to undo his belt, and you nearly gag on the anticipation of getting rewarded with his cock. You sit up on your knees, doe eyes begging for the vampire like a devil’s pet.

When he pulls down his trousers, his cock springs out, hard and wet with precum.

You whimper on sight. Getting off on beholding how fucked up Leon gets because of you.

“Turn around and get on your hands and knees.” the words were demanding, but his tone was polite.

You obey, turning and spreading your legs. You arch your back so that you’re perfectly picturesque for Leon. Beautiful pussy dripping for him.

He doesn’t move like you thought he would. He still watches you from afar, like a creature of the night, salivating at the sight.

“Don’t stop, my dear. We’ve only just begun.” Sinister intent candy-coats his sweet hum.

Your fingers slip over folds, rubbing and caressing gently. You whimper the vampire’s name as you tease your opening. “Please, I need you,” you whimper, desperate for him to fill you up and drain your veins.

“Come here,” Leon beckons you, pointing at the floor between his feet. “Sit.”

You follow, sitting between his legs, inches away from his cock.

Leon’s hands stroke your face and neck, landing on the bite marks on your neck. His fingers caress the wound, causing more blood to spill out. Your eyes were dazed, and your lips hung open like a whore.

The vampire flashed a fanged grin, pressing his tongue to his teeth. A breathy moan escaped his lips as your blood flowed onto his fingers.

He pulled you closer to him and sucked the blood off of your neck. His tongue slithered down to your shoulder and chest, cleaning up the crimson spill.

You moaned loudly, his lips wrapping around your nipple and teasing the tender area with his sharp teeth.

He moans as he licks up the blood on your tits. Your beautiful scent overwhelmed his senses. He can’t believe what he’s done to you, what he’s made of you. He’s in love with you. In love with how good you are when he drinks from your skin.

He lets you go, sitting you back down between his legs. His cock is throbbing, burning red.

Leon’s bloodstained lips purr, “Devour me.”

You push Leon’s shirt out of the way, showing off his beautiful stomach. Your hands grasp either side of his hips, and you wrap your pouty lips around the tip of his cock.

Slowly, your tongue licks down the shaft, followed by your lips sucking his tip.

The vampire’s hungry eyes contradict his restricted and polite words, “More.”

You take him deeper, until his tip reaches your throat. Your tongue laps his shaft while you suck him down your throat. You bob your head up and down, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly.

Leon’s head falls back, letting you consume his cock. He’s in disbelief at how you do it. How you fit such a big dick in that pretty little mouth.

“It’s like you were put on this earth to worship me, my dear.” He remarks between moans, dizzy off your mouth.

Nearly gagged, you release his cock, webs of spit drip down your throat. “I’m yours, your everything. do anything to me.” You sing.

“Fuck,” Leon groans. He stands, picks you up, and embraces you tight. You wrap your arms around him, skin pricking at his cold touch.

He makes out with you, kissing you passionately and lovingly. Your toes curl at the taste of your blood on his lips. He picks you up by your legs and lays you on his bed.

He finally takes his shirt off, consuming your sexed-up body with dazed eyes.

Leon’s perfect figure and cold skin are something that should only be made of marble. But he towers over you, flesh and all.

The vampire grins wickedly, “Beg for me.”

Your eyes are as round as the moon, striking and yearning. “I need you everywhere, inside of me, tasting my skin. I’ll do anything. Please, Leon. Fuck me.”

Leon chuckles, impressed by everything you are. “God, you’re so fucking hot.”

On your back, you spread your legs for him, trembling from the copious teasing.

Leon hisses, pushing just the tip of his cock into you. You nearly squeal. It’s not enough. He’s driving you mad.

You try to push yourself down into the rest of his cock, but he stops you by wrapping his hands around your neck.

“Impatient are we?” His eyes are dark and unforgiving.

You bite your bottom lip, apologizing.

Leon holds you still by your neck, and he brings his fangs to the same spot, sinking them into your skin.

You thrash and squirm out of pure ecstasy. The feeling of your hot blood pouring directly into his mouth and the tip of his cock stretching your pussy is overwhelming.

You moan and scream. Calling the vampire’s name over and over again.

He rewards you but thrusting his entire cock into you. He groans into your neck as your body yearns so desperately for his.

He thrusts into you slowly, making sure to fill every part of you.

“So good, my love,” he kisses your cheek as he fucks you faster. Leon holds one hand around your neck, keeping pressure on your wound to keep you from bleeding too much. The other hand digs into your breast.

“I dunno how much longer—” you cry, feeling your final orgasm rushing through you like a storm.

“Just a little longer,” Leon pounds his cock so hard into you, getting his fix. “Just a little more.”

“Leon, baby, I’m gonna cum,” Tears are streaming down your face as he plows into your pussy.

Leon licks the remaining blood off his fingers and digs both of his fingers into your hips. His lips crash against yours, intertwining your tongue with his. He fucks you so hard the room is filled with the sounds of your collective moans, cries, and his skin slapping against yours.

“Scream my name,” Leon spits against your lips.

“Leon, ahh, oh my god, Leon!” You howl at the night as pure warmth and relief ignite through your body. Hot cum spills into you, and Leon slowly pumps it back into your pussy with tapering moans.

You’re dizzy and fucked up. He drained you of everything you had.

You fall limply into the bed, and Leon cradles you at your side. He lovingly strokes your arm, kissing the back of your head.

He presses to your ear. “I love you.”

“I love you forever.” you hum sweetly.

Leon hugs you, wrapping you in his strong, protective arms. “I’ll run us a bath, my dear.”

#vampire!leon #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x reader #vampire!leon x reader #resident evil smut #academy fics✨

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pin-k-ink · 7 months ago

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masquerade // gojo satoru

tw ⇢ teacher-student relationship, petnames, sexual tension, teasing, possessive!gojo, jealous sex, rough sex, implied age gap, dirty talk, unprotected sex

wc ⇢ 4.9k

a/n: i headcanon that gojo would definitely fuck his genderbent version

"No way, there's absolutely no way I'm losing this bet!" you declared, eyes shining with competitive determination.

Gojo simply chuckled, running a hand through his silver hair as he leveled you with an infuriatingly calm look. "We'll see about that, pretty girl. I hope you're prepared to eat those words."

You stuck your tongue out at your mentor in a childish display, ignoring the spark of heat that flared in your belly at his teasing endearment. Squaring your shoulders, you focused back on the task at hand - besting Gojo Satoru in an impromptu cursed tool duel.

The terms had been simple: whoever disarmed or immobilized the other first would get to choose their partner's costume for the upcoming Halloween soiree being thrown at the Kamo Estate. As one of the oldest and most prestigious jujutsu families, their holiday celebrations were always a lavish affair that attracted sorcerers of status from across the region. Needless to say, you were determined to avoid any humiliating outfits by claiming victory.

You circled each other warily, fingers twitching in preparation to summon your respective tools. A bead of sweat trickled down your temple as you tried to predict Gojo's opening move. Despite his perpetually laid-back demeanor, he was a finely honed weapon - powerful, precise and lightning-quick to strike.

Seconds ticked by in tense stillness. Then, without warning, Gojo was a blur of motion, pale hair whipping around his face as he twisted and struck out with one long arm. You threw yourself sideways in a desperate dodge, boots skidding across the training room floor as you pivoted to face him again. But he was already capitalizing on your evasion with a flurry of sharp jabs and slicing arcs, each one guided by a hair's breadth from clipping your defenses.

Cursing, you backpedaled furiously, mind racing to formulate a counterstrategy as you parried and deflected his relentless assault. He was aiming to herd you into an inescapable corner, you realized - a position from which he could use his greater size and strength to pin you effortlessly.

Gritting your teeth, you waited for the precise moment his next overextended swing left the barest opening in his defenses. Then, with every ounce of your cursed power thrumming through your limbs, you twisted and launched yourself into a furious set of combos.

Gojo's eyes widened fractionally as you unleashed everything you had, pushing him back in a dizzying flail of fists, elbows, and knees. You could sense his surprise at the sheer force behind each blow, the speed and fluidity of your combinations leaving him unable to predict the source of your next attack.

For one blazing, triumphant second, you caught a glimpse of victory as you arced into a spinning heel kick aimed squarely at his temple. But then Gojo was there, materializing inside your defenses with that masterful grasp of space and time that made him nigh untouchable. One second you were on the offensive, the next you were crashing into the unforgiving floorboards with a breathless "oof," limbs twisted and cursed tools clattering uselessly away.

"Well now," Gojo purred, looming over your winded form with a satisfied grin. "Looks like I win again, baby girl." His hand was warm and calloused where it encircled your wrist, grip light but unbreakable.

Groaning, you flopped back against the mats in a dramatic display, skin still tingling from your exertions. "That's so not fair," you whined petulantly. "I totally had you on the ropes that time!"

Gojo barked out a laugh, nudging your side with the toe of one shoe. "In your dreams, maybe," he teased. "A good effort though. Maybe next time you'll actually pose a challenge."

Pushing up onto your elbows, you leveled your best glare at the infuriatingly smug man. "You are SO going to regret those words, sensei. Just wait until you see what ridiculous costume I put you in next year!"

His grin widened in a way that made your stomach flip with anticipation. "I'm counting on it, beautiful."

The following week was spent in a whirlwind of preparation as the Kamo Estate staff readied for the biggest event of their social calendar - the annual All Hallows' Eve Masquerade Gala. Gojo, curse him, remained completely unhelpful about his chosen costume, waving off your repeated inquiries with that maddening enigmatic smile of his.

"You'll just have to wait and see," was all he would say, the gleam in his eyes promising delicious torment. "It's going to be a surprise."

And surprise you he did, on the night of the Gala when he finally unveiled your "costume" with a dramatic flourish of cursed energy. Lying innocently on your bed was an all-too-familiar set of clothes - Gojo's signature uniform of a plain white undershirt and billowing black slacks and jacket.

You sputtered incoherently, gesturing between him and the outfit laid out before you. "You cannot be serious!"

But that bastard just grinned back at you, all sharp canines and twinkling mischief. "Oh, I'm dead serious. You wanted an embarrassing costume, pretty girl? Well here it is, in all its glory."

Frantically, you cycled through a dozen different protests and pleading arguments, each of which he deftly waved aside with infuriatingly logical counterpoints. By the time he was done dismantling your defenses, you had no choice but to grumble your capitulation and snatch up the clothes, stomping towards the bathroom to change with as much dignity as you could muster.

"You're going to regret this," you threw over your shoulder with as much venom as you could muster. "Just you wait!"

Once the door clicked shut behind you, however, your feisty attitude melted away into pure girlish giddiness. Sure, wearing your mentor's clothes in public could be considered a bit humiliating. But you'd be lying if you denied how the thought of being surrounded by Gojo's scent, of wearing the same outfit that clung to his broad frame didn't spark a fluttering warmth low in your belly.

Quickly stripping down, you took a moment to appraise the garments with an appreciative eye, fingers trailing over the soft cotton of the undershirt. Even just holding it up to your body, the excess fabric was dwarfing your slender frame adorably. Giddiness mounting, you slipped it on carefully, rolling the cuffs up your forearms.

The fitted white fabric pulled taut across your chest, the sloping vee of the collar frequently slipping off one shoulder to tease at the soft swell of cleavage it created. A possessive thrill shot down your spine as you adjusted it back into place. This shirt, the one that skimmed and hinted at the sculpted planes of Gojo's body, now lovingly outlined the feminine curves it had never been intended to cup so intimately.

Restless heat blossomed under your skin at the thought of him seeing you wearing it later tonight - tousled, practically spilling out in all the right places. Would his gaze linger as unsubtly as yours always did on him? Or would his effortless cool manage to rein in any excessive reaction?

Anticipation began curling tight in your core as you recalled the thousands of lingering, liquid-hot glances you'd exchanged with Gojo over your years of training. The way his stare could scorch across your bare skin, turning mundane movements into something charged and provocative as he drank in your form with ravenous intensity. What you wouldn't give to see that look of blatant male appreciation washing over his handsome features as you showed up in this sinfully snug getup.

Shaking yourself free of the dizzying fantasy, you took a steadying breath before eyeing the slacks with disappointment. As you suspected, they were entirely too loose around your hips and thighs to be flattering. With a frustrated huff, you shimmied out of them, leaving them in a puddle on the floor.

Your gaze landed on a pair of worn but buttery-soft leather boots tucked in the back of your closet. A wicked grin curved your lips as you tugged them on, lacing the tall shafts all the way up to mid-thigh. The supple leather embraced your legs like a second skin, accentuating the toned lines and feminine swell of your calves in a deliciously provocative way.

You barely recognized yourself in Gojo's oversized undershirt paired with those thigh-high boots. Instead of the properly buttoned-up appearance his uniform conveyed on him, you oozed a wanton, edible sort of allure - all tousled hair, stretched cotton, and miles of creamy leg on display. Your mouth went dry imagining how Gojo might react to such a tantalizing twist on his borrowed look.

'Two can play at this game, sensei,' you thought wickedly, eyeing the smolderingly seductive lines and hints of bare skin your borrowed outfit provided.

After securing the jacket, you realized simply styling your own hair wouldn't quite achieve the full Gojo effect you were going for. A sly smile curved your lips as you procured a long, straight white wig from the depths of your costume trunk.

Carefully situating the silky strands, you fluffed and arranged them until they tumbled nearly to your waist in a perfect mimicry of Gojo's signature silver mane. Coupled with the oversized uniform draped over your frame, the full look was startlingly effective.

The only thing missing now was the pièce de résistance. A wicked grin curved your lips as you rooted around in his cupboard to procure a familiar black-framed pair of glasses. Pulling them on, you struck an exaggerated pose, imitating that cocky smirk and calculating squint he so loved to level at you during training.

"Hollow technique: Purple," you growled in a lower register, jabbing an imperious finger into the mirror. "Tch, not even worth the effort."

Giggles bubbled up uncontrollably at your shoddy impersonation. But one glance back at your reflection snuffed the laughter from your throat instantly. Never could you have predicted just how...devastating the whole ensemble would look together.

Raking a heated gaze down your figure, you took in the panels of taut, stretched fabric clinging deliciously to every curve. The alcohol collar and unbuttoned plackets teased at tantalizing swells of cleavage while the cuffed hems allowed teasing flashes of toned legs to peek through. Paired with the untamed silver and signature spectacles, the entire look was pure, potent temptation - a wicked combination of dishevelment and restraint, of masculine and feminine.

You spun and posed, watching in the mirror as the loosened shirttails flared out around your hips, providing glimpses of the black lacy panties painted onto your backside. A rosy flush crept up your throat at the blatant allure, suddenly unsure if you possessed the sheer audacity to debut this ensemble publicly.

A sharp rap at the bathroom door startled you from your reverie. "You about ready in there?" Gojo's husky voice filtered through the wood, sending a shiver of pure sin down your spine. "Or do I need to come in and help get you properly dressed, pretty girl?"

You swallowed hard, breath catching at the dark promise laced through his tone. Was it your imagination, or did he somehow already know the delectable effect his clothes would have draped over your frame? The thought had your blood pounding anew in a heady rush of nervous excitement.

"I'll be right out," you called back, somewhat proud of yourself for keeping your voice steady despite the tremor in your limbs. One last heated glance at the mirror and your reflection was all but searing itself into the backs of your eyelids. If Gojo thought he could torment you further by forcing this depraved twist of a costume upon you, then he had sorely underestimated your own deviant brand of mischief.

Straightening your spine, you threw open the bathroom door and sauntered out wearing every ounce of sordid confidence you could muster. Gojo stood leaned against the wall, arms crossed negligently over that sculpted chest you knew so well from countless clandestine ogling sessions. But the second his visible eye landed on you, his entire body seized up in an unmistakable full-body jolt.

With no small degree of heady satisfaction, you watched distinct shock and something infinitely darker flare across those striking features you admired so profoundly. His stare raked over your figure in a molten sweep, nostrils flaring as he scented the air with unrestrained hunger. And lower, beneath the loose vee of his unbuttoned slacks, you caught the unmistakable twitching of rapidly interested anatomy.

Well well, it seemed turnabout was fair play in the battle of temptation. You offered a simpering smirk, propping one hand on a cocked hip in a move you'd seen him execute a hundred times - legs shifting just enough to highlight the pleasant distraction at his groin.

"Like what you see...sensei?" The endearment dripped from your tongue like poisoned honey as you tracked his body's visceral reaction. "I modeled it pretty closely after the real thing, don't you think?"

A tremor rocked through his deceptively relaxed stance as the full implications sank in, gaze darkening perceptibly when you toyed with the fabric riding up your thighs. Slowly, he drank you in from tousled crown all the way down to where his shirttails brushed teasingly over the bottom of your ass before slashing back up in another unhurried glide of naked appreciation.

The heavy weight of his undisguised desire washed over you in dizzying waves, stoking the tendrils of challenge and want already suffusing your bloodstream. You felt powerful in a way you rarely allowed yourself to embrace - beautiful and profoundly sensual under the searing brand of Gojo's attention.

"You look..." he started roughly, pupils blown wide before Adam's apple bobbed in a harsh swallow. "Sinful," he finally rasped, the single syllable loaded with enough molten promise to scorch. "Absolutely fucking sinful, pretty girl."

A punched-out gasp slipped free at the blatant admission, need guttering low and hot in your pussy. Bold, you took one pointed step closer, until the fabric of his borrowed jacket brushed softly against his abdomen. The tips of your breasts skated lightly across the clean lines of his chest as you leaned in, mouth brushing his ear in a ghosting caress.

"So do something about it, sensei," you growled, nails raking lightly down the front of his shirt. "Show me how sinful you want to be."

For one tremulous heartbeat, you thought he might actually give in to the simmering tension and haul you bodily against him right then and there. His jaw flexed tellingly, fingers flexing at his sides as muscles coiled for action. But then he blew out a long, shuddering breath, spine straightening as the burning intensity blinked out behind his lids.

"Don't tempt me, baby," he rasped in a low purr, tone thick with sinful promise that had your knees quaking. One large, calloused palm cupped your jaw reverently, angling your face up towards his in a searing look of abject want. "I'm only a man, and you look good enough to eat in that little getup."

He allowed his thumb to drag slowly over the plush swell of your lower lip, gaze riveted while you instinctively parted on a shuddery inhale. Your senses swam with the woodsy undercurrent of his cologne, the scorching heat of skin and muscle thrumming just beyond reach.

"But sadly, we have somewhere to be tonight," Gojo continued, voice pitched quieter yet somehow infinitely more powerful in your close proximity. His eyes raked over you again, taking in the way his shirt barely contained your curves and how you'd opted to forgo the slacks.

Instead, a pair of wicked black leather boots laced all the way up to the middle of your thighs framed your bare legs deliciously. He groaned low in his throat at the sight of so much skin on display, gaze heating further when he noticed the full, straight silver wig cascading nearly to your waist in a perfect mimicry of his hairstyle.

"And if I started getting a taste of you now...well, I wouldn't be able to stop. Not until I'd thoroughly ruined you for the rest of the night's events."

Your mouth went bone dry as graphic imaginings of his sinful promise ricocheted across your consciousness. Unconsciously, your tongue flicked out to wet your lips, silently imploring his thumb to dip between them, to caress heated skin and let you suckle on the rough pad.

But Gojo simply grinned wolfishly, knowing far too well the images he'd conjured behind your hooded gaze. "Easy there, pretty girl," he crooned, all indulgent heat and dark delight. "Soon enough you can have all the punishment you can handle. First though, we have to attend a party."

In an effort to regain some scrap of composure, you cleared your throat, ignoring the shaky rasp. "I'm not sure I can pull off that hair," you countered weakly, reaching up to attempt taming the silver strands. To your utter dismay, Gojo's hand shot out and clamped around your wrist, effortlessly thwarting your movements.

God, he couldn't get over the delicious recreation of his look - the fitted shirt straining at the buttons, those long, lean legs accentuated by the knee-high leather...it was as if he'd been stripped bare and repackaged as the most tantalizing, irresistible version of himself imaginable.

"Don't," he commanded, voice dropping into that smooth, spine-tingling bass that infallibly left you aching and molten. His free hand wound through the tousled locks, mussing them further into resembling his artfully mussed style. "Leave it just like this. Every time I glance over, I want to be reminded of how utterly delicious you look in my clothes. So very pretty for me."

A delirious sound punched out of your core at his gravelly praise, knees going watery at the second heady rush of promised debauchery glimmering in those devilish blue eyes. God, how you burned to give in and let him utterly wreck you right then and there. But the iron bands of his behemoth self-control held firm.

"Now then," he practically growled, punctuating the words with a scorching press of bodies, "I believe we have a party to attend? Hmm, pretty girl?"

You managed a shaky nod, delirious with wanting. How much longer could you keep dancing around this undeniable inferno?

At the Gala, every eye was instantly trained on you from the moment you arrived on Gojo's arm. You could feel the weight of hungry stares caressing your body as you moved through the crowd, taking in your blatant mimicry of Gojo's look from the glossy wig to the clinging shirt. More than one leering partygoer let their gaze linger just a bit too long on the exposed expanses of thigh and cleavage.

For his part, Gojo seemed to bask in the absolute chaos you were causing. One broad palm never left the small of your back, possessively guiding you through the throngs of people while sending a clear message to any who dared approach - this pretty little thing belonged to him.

And oh, how you reveled in his proprietary attitude. Something low and wicked in your core thrilled to be so openly claimed, desired with such naked ferocity in front of all these esteemed strangers. Gojo's intense stare scarcely left you for more than a few seconds, tracking your every move with a heated focus that bordered on predatory.

More than once, you slanted a sultry glance in his direction, lower lip caught between your teeth as you preened shamelessly under his ravenous regard. His visible eye would instantly darken to cobalt, jaw ticking with barely restrained hunger before he forcibly dragged his attention back to whatever politician or clan head was fawning for his attention.

"Down, boy," you purred at one point, leaning in so your pouty murmur brushed hot against the shell of his ear. "Don't make me put you in timeout, sensei."

The low, guttural rumble that punched out of Gojo's chest sent delicious frissons of heat licking through your veins. You giggled privately at how his fingers flexed against your hip, thumb rubbing distracting little circles into the jut of bone.

"Oh I'll show you time out," he growled back through a smile placid enough to fool the nobles milling nearby. "Just wait until I get you alone later, pretty girl. I'm going to teach you all about punishment."

A full-body shudder rocked through you at the dark promise, nipples pebbling painfully beneath the thin cotton. Every nerve was alight with giddy anticipation at what delicious retribution Gojo might have in store for your cheekiness.

Your little game of teasing cat and mouse continued in that vein for most of the evening. He would pin you with those unholy bedroom eyes, gaze dropping conspicuously to the shadows hinting at your body's secrets beneath the too-small uniform. In retaliation, you'd arch into him with a sugary innocent expression, reveling in the way his pupils would blow wide and his breath would stutter over a barely perceptible growl. The heated charge between you grew thicker and headier with every tortuous brush of skin and wicked murmur exchanged.

Eventually, it all became too much for even Gojo's formidable restraint. You were draped over one of the antique sofas, legs crossed in a way that allowed the rumpled white shirt to slip rakishly up your thighs, when he suddenly materialized before you like a force of nature.

His large hand encircled your bare ankle in a scalding grip as piercing blue eyes bored into yours from behind the familiar black frames. You shivered at the mute intensity of his stare, that intoxicating aura of power and sin rolling off him in waves as he slowly, inexorably dragged you upright and flush against his chest.

"That's it, pretty girl," he rasped into the heated hollow beneath your ear. The words were velvet soft yet laced with enough dominant possession to have you melting against his solid frame. "I've been more than patient with you all night. But enough is enough - you've tested every last ounce of control I have."

You shuddered violently as his mouth grazed your jaw in a hot, openmouthed glide. "Sensei..." you whimpered, not even sure what you were pleading for anymore.

"Shh, I've got you," he murmured, a scorching palm settling at the small of your back to guide you through the gawking crowd. "Time to go, baby. You and I have a... private lesson to attend."

Somewhere beyond the thudding rush of arousal, you recognized the distinct clearing of throats and murmured whispers from the nearby guests as you allowed Gojo to propel you towards the exits. But it was impossible to care when he was caging you against him with such blatant feral intent, muscles locked into coiling restraint like a panther poised to pounce on its prey.

The cool night air hit your overheated skin like a slap once you stumbled outside. Gojo didn't so much as pause before scooping you up into his arms in a bridal carry, cursed energy already whipping around you in preparation to activate his Infinite Void technique.

"Hold on tight, pretty girl," he warned, the normally gentle rumble of his voice pitched low enough to send molten heat shearing through your core. "This may get...intense."

And with that, the entire world collapsed in on itself until there was nothing but the whisper of energy across your nerve-endings and the solid warmth of Gojo's body wrapped around you as the in-between rushed past in a blur.

You materialized seconds later in your dormitory suite, Gojo already stalking towards the bedroom with you cradled to his chest. He kicked the door shut with a deafening bang before throwing you onto the mattress with enough force to bounce you enticingly.

Chest heaving, you pushed up onto your elbows to drink in the sight of him looming over the foot of the bed - hair tousled into glorious disarray, shirt disheveled and straining against his broad frame, eyes burning with naked sin and untempered hunger. He looked like some kind of depraved avenging angel, utterly devastating in his authority and desire.

"Do you have any idea," he growled, prowling closer like a predator scenting its prey, "what you've put me through tonight with that little act of yours?"

A shocked squeak fled your lips as one large hand fisted in the loose hair of your wig, yanking just harshly enough to expose the vulnerable line of your throat. Gojo took greedy advantage of your arched position, dipping down to lave hot, filthy kisses along the thundering pulse point as you writhed beneath him.

"All evening, I've been surrounded by the scent of you in my clothes," he rasped against your slick skin, free hand already dragging the shirt up to divest you of the flimsy material. You arched eagerly into his frantic touches, nails scoring paths down the quivering muscles of his back as his lips continued branding every inch of bare flesh.

"That sweet, pretty little body of yours wrapped up to look just like me. All decked out in black and white and silver...fuck, you're lucky I didn't bend you over in front of everyone at the party and take what's mine!"

A desperate keen reverberated from your very bones at the graphic suggestion, hips straining upwards instinctively to grind against the rigid cock already pressing into your soaked pussy. Gojo rewarded the involuntary motion with a punishingly deep grind of his own, dragging the luxurious slide of cotton over your swollen clit and leaving you boneless and gasping.

"Is that what you wanted, baby?" he rumbled darkly, nipping your ear with blunt teeth. "To make me lose control and defile you in front of all those poor, unsuspecting fools?"

You could only whine in response, beyond coherent speech at this point. Rough hands shoved the hem of his shirt up to bare your chest, bunching the fabric over your ribcage as Gojo settled onto his knees between your splayed thighs. Cool air ghosted over your feverish skin for only a moment before his mouth enveloped one taut nipple in an all-encompassing scald.

It was like the last floodgate had opened, finally allowing the pent-up tension thrumming between you to surge free in an unstoppable flood. You dissolved into a litany of shameless sounds - moans and whimpers and breathy curses that only seemed to goad Gojo on further. Soon the bedroom filled with the filthy sounds of devoured kisses, skin slapping on skin, and flesh stretching to desperate accommodation around the punishing thrusts into your convulsing body.

Over and over again, he hilted himself inside your drenched cunt with enough force to slide your sweat-slicked bodies up the rumpled sheets. Wave after wave of blinding, throbbing pleasure eroded the last remnants of sense until your entire universe narrowed to the mouthwatering play of chiseled muscle and tendon as he hovered over you. You couldn't get enough of his harsh grunts, the deeper-than-sin rasp of his voice crooning debauched praises and sinful promises against your fevered skin.

"That's it, just like that, baby girl," he ground out as your nails scored down his back hard enough to sting. "Open up nice and pretty for your sensei. Going to absolutely fucking ruin you for anyone else after I'm done."

The very thought sent electric sparks arcing straight to your clenching pussy, throat already rubbed raw from howling your rapture into the quiet night. There was nothing recognizable left in your voice as you chanted his name like a benediction, uncaring of how the whole dormitory might hear your shameless cries while Gojo robbed you of any last shred of composure.

His hips snapped in a final few deep, piston-like drags before stilling with a full-bodied shudder. The feeling of him painting your fluttering pussy in thick, virile streaks of cum finally triggered your own cresting climax. You shattered around him with a ragged wail, arching wildly as exquisite pulses of lightning ricocheted out in tingling waves to your fingertips and curling toes.

Boneless and limp as a ragdoll, you lay there soaked in the glorious aftermath. Gojo blanketed you with his weight, his breath rasping hotly over your sweat-dampened skin, lips tracing sluggish patterns in their comedown. Neither of you moved for long stretches, simply existing in the tranquil silence of that sacred, sated space.

Finally, Gojo pulled back just enough to free his arms and gather you carefully into his embrace. You hummed out a contented sound, burrowing shamelessly into the solid comfort of his chest while clever fingers worked the constricting knots out of your wig until the heavy silver strands cascaded freely onto the pillows.

"You," he started, pausing to clear his throat and collect his scattered thoughts, "are going to be the absolute death of me one day, pretty girl."

The words were fond instead of chastising as he pressed lingering closed-mouth kisses into your hairline. You smiled against the corded expanse of his throat.

"Promise?" you murmured cheekily, arching up to ghost your lips across the strong column of muscle. A low groan rumbled against your mouth at the blatant provocation.

"Mark my words," Gojo growled, rolling you both until he loomed over your pliant, wrecked body once more. This time though, his touch was barely-there, gentle, almost worshipful as he traced the scattered constellation of marks blooming across your damp skin. "By the time I'm through with you, you won't be able to so much as look at another set of clothes without thinking of me, of how thoroughly I'm going to take you apart and put you back together again."

The heated storm in your blood kick-started anew at his dangerous tone, goosebumps prickling in the wake of his maddening caress. There was no doubt in your racing heart that this deliciously sinful man would make good on every last lurid implication behind those words. And you couldn't wait.

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flamingpudding · 1 year ago

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Fictober23 Prompt: 20 - "This better be good."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

A green Vortex swirled in front of them and Constantine held his breath. This was not like any of the summonses he usually did. He looked over his shoulder at the others present, wondering if he could somehow bullshit his way out of this. But one thing was clear, whatever he had summoned was not one of his demons.

The Vortex continued to swirl before them, slowly greenish smoke started to rise out of him. Then suddenly a melody started to echo around them and Constantine felt like face palming.

"Uh… isn't this the Melody of This is Halloween?" The Flash asked aloud, exchanging glances with the others present.

"Constantine." Great Bats was getting grumpy, the JL Dark member thought, refusing to turn around to face any of the heroes. Ignoring them might make them stop questioning what was happening with this summon. It wasn't like there were any pressing situations, forcing this summon in hopes to prevent whatever interdimensional war Trigon was about to start. No, they hadn't forced him out and away from the curse he had been working on. Not like there were other members of the JL Dark, Constantine clearly knew the big bad Bat liked to work more with than him.

Humming resounded from the vortex now too, clearly depicting the chorus of the well known Halloween song, and John's eye twitched. The fuck kinda demon spirit did he summon now? Was whatever he summoned making fun of him just because that being got summoned in October? The rising smoke started to move, taking on a shape that appeared more humanoid as the humming started to become clearer though it sounded like it was filtered through static as it still sounded somewhat distorted.

"Shadow is the one hiding under your bed, teeth ground sharp and eyes glowing green! Spectra is the one hiding under your stairs, fingers like snakes and spiders in her hair."

The voice echoed sounding like a mix of static and white noise but became clearer the more or the green smoke escaped from the vortex. None of them really knew what was going on and Constantine was cursing up a storm in his mind. What the hell was happening right now, he just wanted to get the Spirit of Balance to help them out with Trigon? They were supposed to symbolize balance, surely they would have the easiest time to fix that imbalance the demon was about to wreck across dimensions.

"In this zone we call home, everyone hails to the ghost-like song! In this zone, don't we love it now? Clockworks' waiting for the next surprise!" The smoke was twirling around and moving like they were picking something up from inside the vortex, its shape still smokey but slowly Constantine was able to make out certain shapes of the head and arms as the voice continued to hum and then sing the static was more and more receding.

"Freakshow is the clown with the thermos to his face, sucked up in a flash and gone without a trace. I am the who when you call, 'Who's there?'. Dani is the wind blowing through your hair. Dan is the shadow on the moon at night, Frighty filling your dreams to the brim with fright!" The voice was now very clear, no interference, the smoke had fully formed a human-like body and appeared to be a white haired teen boy, though John noted, his summon was turned with his back to them appearing not to notice him or the heroes in the room and holding… Was that a Halloween party garland?

"This is Halloween, this is Hallo- who the fuck are you guys?" Mid lyrics the kid appeared to have turned around his arms raised like he was going to hang the garland of cut out pumpkins on a wall. White green eyes stared at them before the summoned eyes went to the garland in his hands that were then quickly hidden behind the teens back.

"Spirit of balance-"

"It's Ancient actually."

The spirit, ancient, cut in and Constantine hurried to correct his mistake. "Ancient of balance, we are the Justice League and have summoned you to seek your help…" Constantine started his usual spiel, ignoring Green Lantern's mutter of if that kid really was the spirit of balance as well as the judging looks and burning glare he felt on his back from Batman. He was not going over with them again about the fact that demon, spirits, ghost and the likes can look like whatever the fuck they wanted.

"Okay, stop!" The summoned teen held up a hand before John could continue. "I was in the middle of an important Halloween themed stabilization party preparation! To finally celebrate Dan after Dani pestered him for months! So this better be good, to get in the way of my first fight free weekend in years!"

"A war with demons is about to start." Constantine's head whipped around to glare at Batman, does he need to hold another course of how to properly communicate with interdimensional beings?

"That's Demon Realm Issues, not Ghost related. Could you humans stop mixing us up? I am not even from the same dimension as them and we have enough troubles with them breaching the Ghost Zone borders every month!" The summoned teen arched an eyebrow at them, crossing his arms and bringing that damned Halloween garland back into view again. They clearly didn't want to be here and if Constantine knew anything about unwilling summons then one wrong world could screw them all over right now.

"Trigon is the one starting it." Batman added and once more the JL Dark member sent the Dark knight a seething glare. That hypocrite put him through a lecture about hero behavior and cautions before, John would return the favor once the crisis was handled.

"Trigon?" His head whipped around to look at the suddenly very interested ancient of balance floating over to Batman.

"What did that big toddler do now?" It appeared like the Ancient was talking to themselves more than them as he crossed his arms completely forgetting about the wall decoration in his hands as they tilted their head in thoughts and started to ignore them. They were mumbling something John couldn't hear, for once he wished Superman was around so he could tell them with his super hearing.

"I have no idea who you guys are but, fine! I will help but only because Dan mentioned wanting to fight that overgrown toddler again. That's going to be his stabilizing day present! He can't complain this way that I got him something lame."

Constantine was about to sigh a breath of relief until he noticed the Ancient of Balance opening a good damn vortex and pulling out a snarling, red glowing eyed and blue flamed haired spirit by the neck. He paled then realizing that the being of balance just pulled the Spirit er Ancient of Wrath into their dimension. John then also noticed what appeared to be a little girl hanging like a koala of Wrath's back and then remembered a passage in the summoning text of the Spirit of Balance, he apparently had carelessly ignored.

Summoning Balance, Wrath and Mischief always stuck together. Sweating heavily, Constntine ignored any and all looks sent his way, because he was sure he might have just doomed their Dimension or at least plunged them into chaos for the time being.

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fleurvi · 1 month ago

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Appetite | Nico Robin

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pairing: vampire!nico robin x fem!reader

genre: smut (minors dni)

wc: 2.5k

cw: vampirism, blood drinking, predator/prey dynamic (in a dream sequence), mention of cannibalism but no actual cannibalism, fingering, cunnilingus, blood play, scent kink, Robin and Reader are both freaky

a/n: happy halloween lesbians. I also cross post to ao3.

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“You can't run from me,” Robin's voice booms through the forest, bouncing off the tree trunks surrounding you as you run. You have seen the look on her face; your wife has been reduced to nothing more than a hungry animal. You can't hear how far behind you she is, whether that's because the snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves caused by your own footsteps is drowning out the noise or, the more terrifying option, she's not actually running.

You're so close to the edge of the forest, close to freedom. Hopefully, people will be on the road, and you will get help.

Unfortunately, fate is not so kind to you. The taste of safety fizzles on your tongue as your shoe gets caught on a rock, and you lose your balance completely. You hear the flapping of wings and don't even have time to think before Robin's whole body weight is on you. You open your eyes to see your wife's face, though something about her is off.

She buries her nose in the crook of your neck. Her vampiric grip holds you in place; you can't escape now. “Your blood smells divine. I need to taste it”

You know how she feels about your scent. It was one of the things that drew her to you, but she promised she would never lose control and hurt you. You wonder if you could beg to appeal to that human part of your wife or if the woman you know has been lost for good.

“Please, baby, be good to me. You promised you'd never hurt me,” you whimper. You don't get a verbal response. Instead, Robin licks from your shoulder and up your neck to your jaw.

“You never have a problem with me hurting anyone else. I promise it won't kill you. I'm just hungry, baby. Don't you want to feed me?” The voice comes from Robin's mouth, but it has a static edge like the vocal cords have been fried, and it's nothing like Robin's. The monster isn't wrong; you always turn a blind eye when Robin has to feed, and her feeding has only killed a handful of times. Most of the time, people get dizzy for a few days, endure a rough hangover, and then a week later, they're good to go. You suppose you are being a hypocrite, maybe a taste of your own medicine is worth it.

“Okay”, you whisper, and a primal growl tears through the vampire's teeth. Her hands slide from your wrists to your own, interlocking your fingers. Her teeth sink into your neck before you can even fathom what's happening. You feel the sharp sting of both top and bottom fangs then a fuzzy warmth spreads through the area until eventually it goes numb and you feel nothing at all.

As soon as your eyes close, they're open again. You look around and realise you're in your bedroom, with your wife sound asleep next to you. She shifts beside you when you wake, and you turn in time to see her open her eyes. For a second, there's a flash of something primal, then the warmth seeps in, and she looks like the woman you married years ago.

“Is everything ok, dear?” she asks, hand reaching to caress your cheek. She's cold to the touch, a side effect of vampirism, but you can feel her intentions through the pads of her fingers. You're a little shocked by how needy you're feeling, especially after such a graphic nightmare. Your panties are uncomfortably wet and you're aching to be touched.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” you say, shuffling closer to Robin. “Just had an odd dream, that's all. Nothing to worry about”

You pull her into a kiss and readjust so you're straddling her. It's desperate and frantic, so much so that one of her fangs accidentally nicks your bottom lip. The scratch makes you whine as you pull back from the kiss. You can feel your skin warming as embarrassment rises like bile in the back of your throat. Your dream wasn't as much of a nightmare as you initially thought. She slides a hand between your legs, and you groan, dropping your head to her shoulder.

“Must've been one hell of a dream” she teases. “You're fucking soaked.”

You're horny beyond words, so you nod, moaning as she works her fingers between your legs. You're so close to cumming until a harsh screeching fills your ears. Never before have you felt so victimised by an inanimate object. Robin reaches her unoccupied hand to her nightstand and turns off her alarm clock. She pulls her other hand from your pyjama bottoms and licks her fingers clean.

“I'm sorry baby, I have an important meeting today. I'll make it up to you later. Why don't you put on something pretty for me later?” she suggests, sitting up with you still in her lap. She kisses your shoulder affectionately, encouraging you to move from her lap so she can get ready for work. She can't go out in the sun, but she's gotta help you pay for rent somehow, so she put the credentials she got when she was ‘human’ to good use and became an archaeology consultant for a museum. She works mostly from home, so you get to see her work.

With a huff, you get up, allowing her to get out of bed. You go through your regular morning routine with her. Once your faces are washed and your teeth are brushed, she sits between your legs and hands you a hairbrush. You started brushing her hair as soon as you moved in. You brush in silence, enjoying the Intimacy of the act. You can tell the repetitive action calms her. Once she's dressed, she goes to her office, and you stay behind in the bedroom, examining your morning.

Your dream gnaws at your chest all morning as you get started on your half of the chores. You can't accept that you were so worked up over the idea of your wife feeding from you. You try to tell yourself it's just the visual appeal of her fangs. Fangs are inherently sexy to look at, especially on a woman that exudes the control and power that Robin does. Her fangs are probably strong enough to take a chunk out of you, and you're so deeply in love with her, you'd probably let her. It's not cannibalism because you're, technically, no longer the same species. Your own sick train of thought turns your stomach. You stop vacuuming and sit down on your sofa hiding your head in your hands.

“What do I do?” you whisper to yourself. After five minutes of muttering under your breath and glaring at your coffee table, you can still feel the echo of her teeth. It's an all-consuming thought. It's a strange mix of guilt, disgust and pure eroticism.

You did marry a vampire so there must've been some interest in her monster side from the beginning. You've always been an adrenaline junkie. Maybe you just need to get this one sick desire out of your system, and you'll go back to normal. You know Robin is running out of her blood bags, so she's going to have to feed from humans until she can order more. You try to push the image of the soulless creature out of your mind and remind yourself of your unwavering trust in your wife. Robin has done nothing but love you and care for you the entire time you've known each other. She wouldn't take enough blood to kill you. no matter how good it tastes to her.

When her lunch break comes around and she's all done with her meeting, you approach her office, clad in lingerie with your makeup and hair done, ready to flush whatever sickness you have from your system. You've researched vampire feeding; you know what tastes good to them, you know the side effects on humans and you know it's going to hurt. Strangely, the thought doesn't deter you; the closer you get to the office, the more excited you are.

You knock on the door to Robin's office, waiting for her permission to enter. You take one last deep breath, accepting your fate, and enter the room.

“Lunch delivery” you sing, as she looks up from her laptop. Her jaw drops as she sees how you look.

“What did I do to deserve all this?” she asks, putting her laptop in the desk drawer and pushing the large chair back so you can straddle her. “I guess we can pick up where we left off this morning,” she says, leaning in to kiss you.

“I wanted to ask if I can do something for you, " you say, cradling her face in your hands. She nods, listening to you. “You're almost out of blood bags. I wondered if…I could be your blood bag,” You say, tilting your head and baring your neck to her.

“You want me to drink from you?” she says, voice unsure. She's never drunk from someone she loves. “It'll hurt you”

“I know. I know it will. I want it to,” You whimper out, guiding one of her hands to your panties. She's still apprehensive, but you see her expression faltering, her vampiric side pushing forward. “That's what I dreamed about last night; that's what got me this soaked.” You say, moaning as her fingers rub your sensitive clit.

“Are you sure you want me to bite you?”

“Positive. I'm not scared of your fangs. They're fucking sexy”

“If it's too much, we're stopping”, she insists, waiting for you to agree before letting you pull her back into a kiss. She moves your panties to the side and slips two fingers inside of you. She trails her lips down your neck, stopping at the base where she presses her nose and takes a whiff, inhaling your scent. On your first date, she told you she could hear your nervous heart frantically pumping blood around your body, it had freaked you out at first but you've grown used to her vampire senses. “You smell delicious. So sweet,” she hums, returning her lips to yours and moving her fingers inside you. She fingers you with precision as she presses her thumb to your clit. She plays with your clit as her fingers skillfully pleasure you.

“I'm gonna cum” you moan, and Robin nods, pulling away from the kiss and positioning her head at the junction of your neck and shoulder. She takes a deep breath, waiting for you to be on the edge of your orgasm before finally sinking her four fangs into your soft awaiting skin. The pain throbbing in your neck sends shockwaves through your body, sending you barrelling face-first into your orgasm. You practically scream out Robin's name as you soak her hand and wrist. You gush as she suckles the wound. The throbbing eases into a numb feeling comparable to pins and needles. She doesn't take a long drink. It's not enough to sustain her until her next order arrives and you're not dizzy yet. You're not experiencing any side effects. She probably only took a few drops.

“Not enough, need a juicier spot,” Robin says, voice dazed as if she's the one who's been drunk from. She licks over the bite mark, letting her natural healing abilities seal the wounds. She pulls her fingers from your pussy, and licks them clean. She hadn't even noticed you squirting at first, so focused on the heavenly taste of your blood. The sight of your juices mixing with your blood has you whimpering on top of her. She lifts you up, planting you on her desk and laying you down. She pulls your panties completely off.

“The thigh is the second best place to drink after the neck. The blood tastes better, in my opinion, but there's more fat in the way of the vessels.” She says, more to herself than you. “I'll make you feel good first”, she promises, using her hands to pull your thighs apart.

She leans in, suckling your clit into her mouth, smiling against you as you moan for her. Your hands shoot down to grab her hair.

“Fuck, baby, it feels so fucking good” You moan and she flicks her tongue at your clit. She all but makes out with your clit. She's sloppy and more enthusiastic than usual, it's a big change from her usual demeanour in bed. She's a fiend, determined to devour every piece of you she can. She's like a venomous snake; the poison in her fangs is spreading through your veins, and you're paralysed to her and her will. Except, you know she's not venomous, there is no poison, you're just a woman who's walked willingly into a monster's grasp. Robin has completely consumed you.

Her tongue works you up absurdly quickly. Leaving you shaking, whimpering and clawing at her desk as she slurps up every drop of cum you have to offer. Your taste floods her tongue as she moans and whimpers against you. It's only now that you realise she's been touching herself.

“Let me taste you before you taste me again”, you beg. Robin obliges immediately, pressing her fingers to your lips. You accept them into your mouth Immediately, sucking them clean of all of Robin's juices. “You taste so good,” you say as she pulls her fingers free from your mouth.

“Oh sweet girl, nothing could ever compare to your taste”, and you know she's not talking about cum. She puts her hand back down her trousers, using your spit as extra lube to play with her sensitive clit while she drinks from you. This is turning her on as much as it is you. She softly moans as she grazes her fangs over your inner thigh.

Robin finally sinks her teeth into you, and both of you groan in pleasure. Your left leg kicks outward at the shock as your right leg stays still in your wife's grip. She takes a much longer drink from this wound, making herself cum as the taste of your blood floods her mouth. The sharp pain is more intense than the first bite but it fades into a throbbing ache much quicker. It's an oddly satisfying feeling, like pressing on a bruise or massaging a sore muscle.

You're exhausted, drained of blood and have had two orgasms. She's done with her drink, but she doesn't seal your wound right away. You want to ask what she's doing but can barely even form a sentence. You try and focus on feeling her hands. She's collecting the blood from your wound on her fingers. You're able to lift your head enough to watch her draw out her initials on your stomach. It's the last thing you see, her name marked on your skin in blood, before your eyes close. You feel her tongue finally seal the wound. You hear her reach for something from the drawer.

“I'm going to clean you up and get you bandages. You just rest for me, my perfect little treat”

•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•

I'm on ao3 here! thank you so much for reading!!

#✿ one piece #☆ robin #nico robin x reader #nico robin smut #one piece x reader #one piece smut #fem!reader #op x reader #op smut #robin x reader #robin smut #🖋 mine

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sanccharine · 23 days ago

Text

loser's game | jh

pairing: jihyo x reader

genre: (questionable) comedy

word count: 6.1k

warnings: descriptions of blood, gore, violence. includes popular monsters/villains from horror movies.

summary: when you and jihyo lose spectacularly as the mafias in the mafia game, you are both are forced to endure a horror house as punishment.

a/n: this started on feb 20, 2021... finally finished on oct 31, 2024 ·_· the banner is so serious for such a ridiculous fic, im sorry. this was inspired (100% stolen and copied) from run bts, going seventeen, and time to twice — like it is literally scene for scene going seventeen the tag. anyways thanks to my gorl indigo (@eternallyghosting) for correcting the shit out of my spelling...it was bad. and happy diwali and halloween (diwalloween if you will)

A soft curse escaped your lips as you observed the meticulously decorated building in front of you.

Granite statues of goblins guarded the front steps, which seemed like they were a second away from falling apart. Along with their pointed ears and wrinkled foreheads, they had a grotesque grin etched across their face, more to showcase their rows of sharp teeth instead of a welcoming smile. The worst part was their eyes, hidden away from the rain by protruding eyebrows, they were caved in and greasy, making them twinkle in the night.

The stairs were also of the same stone, splattered with what you hoped was dirt and grime, leading up to the entrance of the mansion. Beside them, led a staircase to the right side of the house all the way up to the upper floor. It was a beautiful house, truly, with its high roofs and many windows. Maybe in its prime, you would have been able to appreciate its beauty, maybe even dreamed of staying in such a place.

However, in the darkness of the night, the pastel pink walls turned into an ugly shade of grey similar to a trodden sidewalk. It didn’t help that the paint was cracked and peeling to show the large splotches of mould. Then there were the overgrown vines spewing over the railing beside the entrance and crawling up the walls, reaching the open windows which creaked eerily with wind, barely hanging on.

It was the type of house the protagonist of a horror movie would have to move into at the start of the film. Even with cleardistaste for the house and the knowledge of its past from the neighbours or rumours, they’d choose to stay there. The mere sight of it had you wrapping your arms around your stomach and pulling at your overcoat.

For a random haunted house at an amusement park, they had spent quite the money to make it look…convincing.

Beside you, Jihyo’s torso heaved as she inhaled and exhaled deeply, allowing a misty cloud to escape her lips. When she was done collecting herself, she spun on the balls of her feet as she proclaimed. “We’ll do the dishes, Jeongyeon! And vacuuming! For a week!”

Normally, you would’ve nudged Jihyo, gesturing that you wanted nothing to do with cleaning duties. What with Jeongyeon breathing down your neck for every second of it? Absolutely not, you did not have a death wish. However, considering your current predicament, between cleaning with Jeongyeon badgering you every second or entering this haunted house of horrors, you would easily pick the former.

Nayeon scoffed at Jihyo’s pathetic attempt at bargaining which caused you to turn as well. Next to the oldest, stood Jeongyeon with her hands in her pockets, completely relaxed at the knowledge of her friend’s imminent suffering. Beside the pair, stood Sana and Momo, who clung to each other for any sort of warmth during this late October night. However, there was no warmth in their mischievous eyes.

When Jeongyeon’s face stayed as expressive as the stone behind you, Jihyo continued with hands clasped in front of her chest. “Seriously! For two weeks, then?”

But, of course, Jeongyeon was not easily convinced.

“No,” Jeongyeon said with a composed smile as her eyes moved from the begging girl to you, who remained as stiff as a board. “Neither of you can properly clean. It’s just more work for me.”

Nayeon folded her arms as her eyes flitted to the ground to suppress the cackle that would surely burst out. Jihyo’s clasped hands parted, shaking as they dropped. The corner of her lip twitched as she straightened herself, the facade of a begging innocent transformed into a character dead set on spilling blood.

Before that could happen, finally coming to your senses, you offered. “I’ll pay for dinner.”

Jeongyeon tilted her chin up to consider. Even Jihyo turned, waiting for you to continue.

“I’ll pay for tonight,” you nod, resolving yourself. You need to sound confident. “Dinner at the new restaurant that opened down the street. Tzuyu wanted to go there, I’ll pay!”

Sana and Momo started giggling like schoolchildren at the thought of free food, while Nayeon nodded her head with satisfaction, convinced. However, Jeongyeon only raised an eyebrow at the offer, clearly mulling it over. The only thing that could distract the group of demons you call friends is food, they were primitive that way. You turned to meet Jihyo’s stare, which was oddly inexpressive, but all of you knew better than that. It was all just a mask, to cover the rage simmering right underneath, waiting to be unleashed.

“No,” Jeongyeon said with a clenched half-smile, one that would accompany an apology, but she looked anything but apologetic.

Right next to you, a shrill yowl erupted that nearly shattered your eardrum. Instinctively, you shifted and threw your arms around Jihyo’s waist. Fortunately, you’d caught Jihyo just before she could pounce and tear out Jeonyeon’s bleached hair strand by strand. Although, with the way she thrashed in your arms she was only a second away from escaping and doing just that, maybe you’d even join in. Nayeon let out that cackle while Sana and Momo continued to giggle, all at the sight of their friend going absolutely feral. What must’ve irritated Jihyo even more though was that Jeongyeon stood in the middle, completely unaffected.

“You set us up!” Jihyo shrieked, but the ringing in your ear didn’t deter you from your task. “Jeongyeon, you set us up!”

Joining Jihyo, but also tightening your hold on her, you agree. “She’s right! You purposely put Chaeyoung as the police and Dahyun as the doctor, while Jihyo and I were the mafia. Obviously, we’d lose!”

“Lies and defamation,” Jeonyeon shook her head before placing her hand over her heart, “I did no such thing. I would never, ever, do that.”

“Or maybe you’re just bad at playing mafia!” Sana said, sticking her tongue out. Momo let loose more giggles while Nayeon let out another hearty cackle, this time, smacking Jeongyeon’s shoulder in the process.

“As if you’re any better!” Jihyo growled, panting but still caged in your arms. “As if you–”

“What’s going on?” Mina’s small voice asked as she came over, holding two ginormous sticks of cotton candy. Behind her, the three youngest members of your circle followed like little ducklings after their mother.

Dahyun was busy counting leftover change and checking bills to see if everything was accounted for. Chaeyoung and Tzuyu, on the other hand, lugged in more carnival food—enough snacks to skip dinner. Of course, they’d never actually skip dinner. They’ve bought buckets of popcorn as if they’re out to watch a movie, which was true in a way, your misery will be their entertainment.

Sighing at the image, you accepted your fate.

Momo eagerly took a stick of cotton candy from Mina, while Nayeon answered. “Jihyo and Y/N are trying to weasel their way out of their punishment, you know, like a bunch of weasels.”

Nayeon shook her head with two fingers pinching the bridge of her nose in feigned disappointment. Mina flashed her gummy smile just as a carnival worker came out to call you. Jihyo turned to offer a small bow, as your friends began to holler. The woman arrived with two selfie sticks in her hand attached to cameras and handed them to the two of you. She offered a kind smile, completely missing the dread swirling in your eyes.

“Welcome to Mysterious Mansion! Your objective is to find the four keys necessary to escape the mansion in under thirty minutes. That’s it!” She said with a small shrug and you narrowed your eyes at that obvious lie. “Once you enter, there will be a map of the mansion to your right as well as a few rules outlining the gameplay, please read them before proceeding. When the two of you are ready, just raise your hands above your head and you’ll hear a buzzer which will be the start of your time.

“As for the rest of the group,” the woman leaned to Jihyo’s right to offer a kind smile to your already snacking friends, “please follow me to the back where you can watch them play the game.”

When the girls hollered, you slowly turned to Jihyo’s stare. There was a mismatch of emotions passing through them, none of which you could make any sense of, apart from the fact that neither of you wanted to do this.

One last attempt at a saving grace, your eyes landed on the cost for one run of thirty minutes. It was quite pricey. “Damn guys, this punishment looks like it will be really expensive, instead I’ll just buy dinner—”

“Just go already,” Tzuyu deadpanned to your offer, her voice muddled as she munched on popcorn.

“Plus, we paid in advance. All of us!” Dahyun added in her chirpy manner.

“Right, of course, you did,” you muttered to yourself. “Why did I even bother?”

What were the five stages of grief? Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance? Yeah, well it was about time you accepted your demise. Jihyo must’ve come to the same conclusion after having gone from being scared to offering to clean to going absolutely mad, completely skipping the depression stage as an odd light filled her eyes.

“Thirty minutes, right?” You snapped to your right at Jihyo’s words. “What’s the record time?”

“Eight minutes!” The worker said in an unnecessarily chirpy tone. “Three guys made it out in a flash, best run we’ve seen!”

Jihyo mumbled something and nodded to herself while Nayeon began to snigger, completely aware that Jihyo’s competitive spirit would be a thousand times worse than whatever was waiting for you inside.

Jihyo offered her empty hand and you sighed dejectedly as you took it, your fingers quickly entangling. Your so-called friends giggled and howled like the irritating children they were, offering encouragement that was mostly empty. You were sure Jeongyeon had a wicked grin plastered on her face, you didn’t have to turn around to know that.

With a camera stick in your left hand and your right in Jihyo’s, the two of you approached the steps. You tried to drown yourself in the giddy laughter of little children visiting the carnival, the same overplayed pop music blaring from speakers, and the vibrant flashing lights adorned on various rides to remind yourself that the horror house you were entering was just another ride. None of it was real, and you were not going to get hurt. As the worker put it; just find the keys and escape, that’s it. Simple.

With a final few rowdy howls from the young college girls, the entrance to the mansion closed behind you. To say the place was dark would be an understatement. You could just barely make out the grand stairs leading to the upper floor, and by baseless deduction, you assumed there were rooms on either side of the staircase because right now all you could see was black. Jihyo squeezed your hand and you stopped staring blindly into the abyss to stare at something you could see.

As the worker had mentioned, there was a map to your right. It was lit up by flickering yellow light and detailed both floors. There were a total of six rooms aside from the three bathrooms, the kitchen, the dining room, and the main hall. Basically, the place was ginormous—again, quite the budget for an amusement ride. The exit was marked with a large red ‘X’ on the upper floor.

Jihyo quickly read aloud the rules as you let out another dejected sigh, bringing up the camera to glare at it, you mumbled. “You know this is all your fault?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Jihyo scoffed, turning to you before yanking her hand out of your clasp. “My fault? If anything, this is your fault?”

“Oh, please enlighten me.” You replied, throwing your arms up, sending a scathing glare her way, though she probably couldn’t see it well.

“If you didn’t look so suspicious, then—”

A loud buzzer sounded and the two of you froze—both of your hands had been raised, even if it was only for a second!—as the dim yellow lights changed instantly to hues of crimson.

Jihyo’s hand grabbed yours and brought it down before interlocking fingers again. She then hissed as she took the first step. “If you didn’t look so damn suspicious, then you would’ve lasted more than two rounds and we would’ve won.”

“That’s just my face! If I smile too much I’m suspicious, if I don't smile at all I’m still suspicious! What am I supposed to do?” You hissed back, squeezing her hand tightly. Clearly, both of you have regressed back from acceptance to anger. “And what about—let’s go left—what about you?”

Jihyo turned left, dragging you along, and entered a grand dining room. In the centre of the room stood a large mahogany table, large enough to feed eight people and was neatly adorned with plates. If you squinted, you could make out the beautiful patterns on the plates and the intricate engraved details on the ends of the cutlery.

Letting Jihyo lead you around the table, you continued. “What about you, huh? The second Nayeon mentioned your name, you blew up. It was clearly a trap, and you walked right into it!”

Jihyo sighed, leering over the table to check for a key among the silverware, and admitted. “I should’ve killed Dahyun after you were voted out.”

Dahyun was too good of a doctor and managed to save everyone you tried to kill. If Jihyo had taken her out, that would’ve given the mafias an easy win. You grumbled your agreement while eyeing the strange baroque painting at the end of the dinner table.

The painting was of a woman in a silk gown, glancing to her left, wholly uninterested in the elaborate platter she held. Strange since the platter held a severed head. The man was bearded, his mouth frozen agape in shock as his sockets had been carved out, devoid of eyes. He was adorned with pomegranates, grapefruits, and plums—the juice of the fruit and the blood from his neck pooled and dripped down the woman’s hands, soaking into her sleeves. What a terribly morbid painting, it disgusted you but for some reason, you couldn’t look away. Deciding to search the table along with Jihyo, you opted for one last glance.

Probably the worst decision you’ve ever made, as your heart nearly burst through your ribcage.

The woman’s eyes in the painting looked straight at you.

If Jihyo sensed you crushing her hand in a panic, then she ignored it. Instead, she shuffled around, tugging you, and aggressively prodded the table with the camera stick, prioritizing finding a key over a broken hand or the camera. Not trusting your voice, you nudged Jihyo to warn her, unable to break your gaze from the painting. Of course, completelyused to your irritating behaviour, she overlooked it. Jihyo only offered low grunts, much like a caveman, when you nudged her more frantically, panicking after you caught sight of the blood dripping from the painting and onto the floor.

Jihyo was about to reach her limit from all your nudging, especially when she was the only one trying to find the keys. You knew she was preparing to give you a verbal lashing when suddenly she went taut under your grasp. Jihyo let out a guttural scream, loud enough to break the sound barrier, and jumped a meter into the air. In response to that, a horrid screech escaped from you and as you were still very much stuck to Jihyo, you were yanked harshly out of the dinner hall.

“There was something under—something grabbed my leg!” Jihyo repeated frantically, shivers passing through her body as she ran back to the entrance. Jihyo let go of your hand, though with a lot of difficulty, to try opening the door. No such luck because the door was locked shut.

You swore profusely, before obsessively jangling the door handle with your now free hand. Rage had quickly enveloped your fear and this was the only way to let out your frustration—bullying an inanimate object. You sent a kick to the handle after trying to slam the door open with your shoulder. When these failed, you finally acknowledged what had already been proven. “Damn it, we have to find those stupid keys!”

“Should we split up?” Jihyo asked, already studying the map, while you glimpsed at the dining room. It was difficult in the dark, but you were sure you saw a shadow moving. “How about you take the ground floor, and I’ll take the other?”

Jihyo glanced at you as if she was offering you the better option as if she was being generous. Yeah, the ground floor had fewer rooms, but that was only because the rooms were larger. Plus, the dining room, kitchen, and the main hall were all open spaces. Your only proper refuge would be the smallest bathroom, which was at the very far end to the right.

You were just about to decline and suggest you stay together when something—well someone—came growling from the kitchen. The two of you screamed as much as your lungs would allow you. Without a second of hesitation, Jihyo bolted up the stairs still yelling, successfully leaving you for dead.

Well, guess you would be taking the ground floor then.

Personifying the fight in the fight or flight response, you wielded your camera stick like a bat and stood your ground. You jumped side to side on the balls of your feet, swinging the makeshift bat as the monster came to a slow stop in front of you. It was too dark for you to make out the costume and makeup, but with the tufts of fur and leaves hanging from the torso, you’d assume this was some sort of swamp monster. Perhaps you would have criticised how a swamp monster took away from the immersive experience considering you were in an elaborately decorated mansion, but at the time, you were too busy screaming to think of such things.

“I swear I will hit you—don’t come closer!” You shrieked, with only the stick in between you and your murderer.

Whoever this poor actor was, was probably not paid enough to do this every night, especially with the makeup and heavy costume, but right now, that wasn’t your biggest worry. If this person were to make any sudden move, you were more than ready to whack the life out of them. You could live with that. Covering their medical bills and assault charges will be a problem for you in the future.

The two of you circled each other until your back was to the dining room entrance and you let yourself be backed into the room. However, the second your back hit a chair, you grabbed whatever silverware you could find and hurled it in your attacker’s direction. Lucky for you, the cutlery was not attached to the table, or worse, made out of porcelain. The spoons, knives, and forks clattered to the ground while you dashed to your left, moving to the kitchen.

There was a strange bubbling noise but you decided to return to this place when you’re not so close to being killed. You exited the kitchen through its proper entrance and opened the door on the left. It was a small storage room, littered with nothing but a few discarded canvases on the floor—you don’t remember this room on the map.

Oh, also, there was a crying woman in white, huddled in the corner.

Greeting her with a quick bow, you immediately shut the door before you could register what you’d seen. Ignoring the violent shudder that passed through your spine, you ran back towards the main entrance, just about to cross the staircase to follow through with the plan you never agreed to when a blood-curdling scream came from the first floor.

Your self-sacrificing instincts kicked in and you climbed two steps at a time while cursing your feet which carried your body towards Jihyo’s screams. Crashing into the first door on your right, you burst into the room screaming all the while swinging your camera stick strong enough to make baseball stars weep… only to find Jihyo backing her assailant to a corner.

You paused, chest heaving violently, as you witnessed Jihyo in her warpath. Her hands were clenched in tight fists as she stomped forward, making the poor actor back up. She let loose those guttural gnarls that would have one’s throat grating as if someone were pulling it taut. Surely, by the end of your punishment, Jihyo would end up with a sore throat that no amount of honey could cure. Her attempt at asserting dominance slowed down to snarls and hissing before she came to a stop at the sight of surrender. You would have been impressed had she not looked completely mad.

Jihyo heaved and moved back to the enormous bed in the room, with her eyes still trained on the poor zombie, who tried to become one with the wall. When she sat down, huge plumes of dust wafted into the air and she began coughing violently but had no energy to move away.

Catching yourself on the door frame seeing that Jihyo had saved herself, you whimpered out. “Got all your anger out now?”

Both the actor and Jihyo stiffened at your voice before Jihyo said. “I’m going to kill Jeongyeon.”

You cringed at Jihyo’s hoarse voice, which was nothing but air, she seemed to speak every word as if it pained her. You close your eyes to collect yourself before asking. “Did you find a key?”

Jihyo wordlessly raised her hand, holding a whole ring of keys, glinting in what little moonlight the tattered curtains allowed. You gasped and walked forward, reaching over the bed to take them. Ignoring the dust being released when you dropped your camera stick carelessly, you counted the number of keys. There were exactly four, all seeming to be in different colours, shapes, and sizes. One of them even had the number three on it.

Before you could ask, Jihyo pointed behind her and croaked. “Drawer.”

You repeatedly muttered okay to yourself, giddy to finally be free from this mad house.

So giddy, that you failed to notice the traumatised actor in the corner shaking their head when you exited the bedroom. Getting a head start, you made it down the corridor and found the room where the exit was supposed to be. You opened one door and were met with four other doors. Two to your left, one to your right, and a metal one in front of you. Otherwise, the room was completely barren.

This was not good. All of these doors were closed meaning you had no idea what monstrosity was hiding behind them. Hearing the muttered curses and stomping, you know Jihyo wasn’t far behind. Quickly, you pulled apart the ring, separated the four keys, and laid them out in the same order with key number three in its place. The door right in front of you was clearly the exit, as it had four coloured and numbered squares with keyholes in the centre.

What do you know? The colours of the keys matched the squares!

Even then, your mind in all its excitement failed to see the obvious trap, like it had failed to predict Jeongyeon’s plans to frame you and Jihyo. You hurried and put all the keys in their respective holes, some with difficulty, with you standing in front of keyhole numbers one and two while Jihyo was in front of the others. With one last glance at Jihyo, you tried the first key.

Except that it didn’t turn.

“No,” Jihyo mumbled before harshly turning key number three which worked. She tried turning key number four but it wouldn’t budge, she pulled it out and threw it to the ground. “Damn it!”

Right at that moment, the door on your left swung open revealing a person with the Jason Voorhees mask and a machete to match. Once again, in unison, you and Jihyo were screaming as much as your lungs would allow. However, this time, both of you bolted out the door you’d entered and Jihyo closed the door behind you just in time, so your attacker couldn’t come. Panting, you leaned on the wall by the door, hand wrapped around Jihyo’s own hand which clung to the door handle.

“Swamp monster, crying ghost, zombie, and Jason,” you count out as you catch your breath. “Four monsters so far, you think that’s it? Four keys, four doors, four monsters?”

Jihyo, panting herself, nodded. “Has to be.”

“We need to get those stupid keys,” you sighed. Even panicked and running high on adrenaline, you could feel your fear giving way to frustration. You were ready to get this game over with. “I didn’t find any, but I’m assuming it's two per floor.”

Jihyo nods again, while her attention is on the door, pressing her ear to make sense of the killer behind. But it was silent.

“Do you want to stay here, and I can find the keys on the first floor?”

“I’d be a sitting duck,” Jihyo shook her head. “I’ll ransack the top floor, there are still the bathrooms.”

“Dining hall is a red herring with too many clues,” you said, unsure if the room was to be misleading, but it definitely was a waste of time. “I’ll recheck the kitchen and main hall.”

You glance back at the door and frown.

“Give me some time before running to the bathrooms, I don’t have places to hide downstairs,” you say and gently take your hand from the door handle, shaking off your nerves.

Again, Jihyo nodded as she leaned beside the door, taking your place.

Nodding back at her, you headed towards the stairs. Forgoing the steps, you sat on the railing and quickly slid down, landing easily at the bottom. Your first location was the kitchen.

You knew the swamp monster had to be waiting in the dining room for you. As well as the crying ghost in the nearby storage room. You’d take your chances with the ghost any day. Taking the route from the back, you entered the kitchen. Walking to the nearest cabinet, you tugged on the handle—it was glued shut. Nodding to yourself, you squinted at the marble counters for anything, nothing seemed to stand out apart from the bubbling pot on the stove, lit up by a flame—it was a light, not real fire.

A shuffle in the dining room, made you snap your neck to the left. Your eyes, like magnets, turned to the eyes of the morbid painting, glaring into you. Any moment, the swamp monster would return. Turning your attention to the pit, you lifted the lid to see stagnant liquid—so the bubbling was just a recorded sound—that helped break the immersiveness. Rolling up your sleeve and steeling yourself, you stuck your hand in the freezing cold water—or what felt like water. You were grateful for the low viscosity, anything else, and you would have given up finding the key.

Speaking of, your fingers brushed against shaped metal and pulled out a handful of keys. Cringing at the metallic clangs and clinks as you dropped the wet keys on the counter, you easily found the only key that had a number on it.

Just as you pocketed the key, the swamp monster made itself known.

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered and tipped the pot over. They really should glue that down too.

Water splashed onto the tiled floor, covering the space between you and the monster. Yes, there was another door leading straight to the main foyer from the dining room, but the distraction was all you needed for time.

Taking the back entrance again, you sprinted out of the kitchen, past the main foyer, and into the room you’ve never been to before. The main hall.

The moment you entered you had to clasp your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from shrieking.

Every corner of the room, every shelf, every breathing space from the mantle of the fireplace to the couch to the emptyspace of the majestic piano were seated with antique dolls. Dolls of all kinds, and colours, and clothes with their glassy eyes and rosy cheeks and perfectly brushed hair. Not to mention that all the oil paintings of young girls, similar to the antique dolls taking up every inch of the walls.

Somehow this was worse than the painting that dripped blood onto the floor.

But much like that painting, it was like all their eyes followed you. That couldn’t be.

The dolls’ eyes were all looking in one direction, up at the paintings. And the paintings looked up at the ceiling, following them, your head tilted up.

If you didn’t have trypophobia before, you certainly did now.

The ceiling was filled with magnificent glass-painted lights, barring the eye-like structures all clustered to look into a direction. Letting the hairs on your neck raise, you followed down the ceiling to the back of the room, once again met with paintings on the wall as your eyes landed on something marginally worse.

A clown.

Gulping so loud, you stayed frozen.

Had the actor just waited until you figured out the eyes?

Their grin widened as their head tilted in an almost robot-like manner.

Trypophobia and clowns were not fears you expected to gain tonight, but life works in mysterious ways.

“Come on, man,” you hoped to sound a little relaxed, but with the way your voice shook, you’re doubtful cool confidence came across well.

When the actor’s grin only widened, you let out a pained whine, like a child throwing a tantrum.

Regressing to your throwing habits, you glanced at the dolls. If they weren’t glued to their places, and also if they weren’t porcelain, you could kick a few to the ground as a distraction. However, touching or holding any part of the dolls matched with those lifeless dead eyes, chubby rosy cheeks, and coloured pouting lips was a thousand times more revolting than facing discount Pennywise.

“I will swing the camera stick and I know you’re not getting paid enough to take that,” you bartered instead, both hands on the camera stick, once again like a bat.

The actor chuckled and shook his head. “It happens more often than you think, even though it's against the rules.”

“Rules?” you question, camera stick slightly lowering.

“The ones under the map,” he offered.

“Shit, yeah. No, we didn’t have time to read those,” you frowned, completely dropping your stick to your side. “Assuming, we’re not supposed to throw and spill stuff either?”

“Generally, not proper etiquette but it happens,” he shrugged. The casual action was so odd when he was dressed as a horrifying killer clown.

“Really sorry about that,” you frown deeper with a sigh but he only shakes his head, dismissing your apology with a wave of his hand.

“You’re all good,” he smiled. Now, you knew he was trying to be friendly and accommodating, but in his make-up, his grin was chilling. It was exactly the reminder you needed.

Lifting up the stick, almost as if going into an act yourself, you steeled your nerves. The clown followed you as he lowered himself, his eyes narrowing while his grin widened. “Where’s the key?” you asked.

You were sure he was about to recite some quote from the source material, or just something to elevate his performance. However, both of us were distracted by the ear-shattering scream that could only be Jihyo’s. Perhaps, you’d have jumped the couch and run to her, that is if she wasn’t swearing like a sailor.

Knowing she had herself covered, you used the distraction to run. The clown followed.

Maneuvering in a room filled with dolls was difficult, but it was difficult for the clown as well. Following the eyes and where the clown had just been was key number two, all the eyes had been pointing towards it. Such a simple find, but the dolls and clown were such huge deterrents.

In a sprint, you made a grab for the key notcaring as you rustledsome dolls and exited the main hall. Swamp monster, much like a game character, was waiting at the entrance to the dining room, and themoment he saw you run to the stairs, he was activated.

“Jihyo, get to the door!” You screamed climbing the stairs two at a time and ignoring the fact that swamp monster and Pennywise himself were on your trail. Jihyo’s answer was only a snarl back, no doubt fending herself from Jason Voorhees.

Making a quick right, you entered the room and sprinted straight to the metal door. Jihyo was in some circling match with Jason Voorhees as you slotted in key number two and turned it. When you slotted key number one and turned, the swamp monster, the clown, and the zombie piled into the room.

“Jihyo!” You shoved open the door, which to your embarrassment, while coloured like metal, was not metal, so you nearly planted head-first into the ground when it swung open with ease.

Catching yourself on the corroded metal railing, Jihyo followed you out and slammed the door shut. Both of you panted, staring at each other as noises from the carnival once again surrounded you. The back of the mansion was… barren to put it kindly.

None of the money that was spent at the entrance and inside was spared for the back. It looked merely like a storage container.

You crumpled to the floor, leaning on the railing, and sighed. Your camera stick fell by your thigh with a thunk as Jihyo closed her eyes. You were done. You made it out.

“Well done, losers!”

You looked over your shoulder, following the taunt and the clapping. Nayeon giggled as Jeongyeon slowly clapped from the ground.

“Come down!” Jeongyeon said with a blinding grin as you pulled yourself up to stand. By the way, Jihyo held her jaw, you knew she was seething. However, she was far too exhausted to do anything.

The pair of you took the stairs down and headed into a smaller shed by the mansion followed by Nayeon and Jeongyeon. Inside, the rest of your friends were gathered as well as the worker who had greeted you. The room was filled with cameras inside the mansion, two screens still transmitting from your camera sticks even as you handed them over.

“Good job!” The worker said with a forced smile, though you glanced behind her. One of the cameras caught the swamp monster pulling off his mask and taking a seat on one of the chairs while Jason Voorhees just flopped to the floor, his head tilted to the ceiling. All the while Pennywise and the zombie helped clean their respective rooms with the help of cleaners.

“We’re sorry,” you sighed, Jihyo only nodded, her eyes were still narrowed. She looked anything but apologetic, but you knew she was. “Adrenaline just—poof, you know?”

“It’s alright,” the worker sighs, her taut smile dipping more into a genuine one. “It happens.”

“Yeah, Pennywise said that,” you gave her a small smile. “Good experience, good game. Terrified the shit out of us.”

You ignored the way your friends laughed behind you.

“Please rate us well on the website,” you nodded as the worker pointed out a QR code printed out on the wall.

While Jeongyeon pulled out her phone to do that, Jihyo sighed and stepped forward. “What was our time?”

There was no point in asking. The pair of you definitely did not beat the eight-minute record.

With a frown, the worker answered. “Twenty-seven minutes and fifty-four seconds—”

“Twenty-eight minutes,” Jihyo’s entire form deflated like a burst balloon. You rolled your eyes at her while your friends laughed.

Instead, you asked a question that bugged you most as you studied the camera screens.

“Where is the fifth one? Ghost lady?”

The worker frowned as your friends became silent. Both you and Jihyo looked around to meet everyone’s faces, their expressions ranging from confusion to apprehension.

“The one in the storage room? She was crying,” you prompted again, glancing back at the cameras to see the four monsters now all in the dining room picking up the utensils you spilt.

When the worker cleared her throat, you and Jihyo turned back. Her face ashen as she gulped.

“There is no crying ghost.”

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: i believe the house was based off of coraline house and the painting i described was judith slaying holofernes by artemisia gentileschi :] gonna go binge gose now, good day/night everybody !

tagging: @someone-who-likes-broccoli

#mala’s collection #sanccharine #jihyo x reader #twice x reader #twice comedy #jihyo comedy #twice #twice imagines #jihyo imagines #loser's game

102 notes · View notes

blublublujk · 1 year ago

Text

i just fucked your girl (and she loved it)

oneshot

word count: 11k

genre: established relationship (reader x namjoon), dark/morally gray characters and decisions

pairings: ghost hoseok x y/n and y/n x fiancé namjoon

summary:

A very lonely, horny ghost comes to haunt your dreams (and fulfills your every sexual desire).

warnings: oh my god get ready this is gonna get long. swearing, cheating?? (is it really cheating if he's dead? i'll let you decide), explicit sexual content; sexual "nightmares", unprotected vaginal sex AND anal (ITS TIME :D), rough sex, sub/dom dynamics, no safe word, submission, dirty talk, hoseok refers to people he comes across as victims (he doesn't force anyone i promise, not unless they want to ofc), masturbation, fingering, petplay? (the reader likes being called kitten), slight hand kink, slut shaming (oopsies), use of spit (oops again), use of lube, hickeys, lots of begging, hoseok's a bit mean but the ending will make it up a bit ISTG, namjoon's an innocent sweetheart, reader feels a lot of guilt, ass play (YAY), rimming (YAY pt2), mentions to gay sex and clown kink (you'll see), hoseok's like a ghost sex worker and the reader sorta manifests him, sex toys, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, come shot, blowjob, hair pulling, daddy kink, breast play, creampie, a bit of a sad/angsty ending, so sorry if anything is missing I RLLY TRIED

btw there's sex scenes between namjoon and the reader AND hoseok and the reader so they both get their share.

a.n: happy fucking halloween. sorry this got a little sad towards the end, but i hope you guys love it as much as i do. i think i'll live in this world for a while. i'm so obsessed with this probably, my favorite work yet. i think this is my smuttiest work too? idk. i was gonna delete like half of it because i hate myself sometimes but i figured you guys would enjoy something a little longer so i typed and typed until my lil heart desired and this beast was created. btw i finished this at exactly 6:13pm. i thought i'd let yall know, if anyone's as crazy as me :D im so curious what you guys think about this one so feel free to comment (only if you want too ofc ^.^) idk when i'll be back with something new but please be patient with me. i promise im not leaving lol i just get busy. OKIE THIS IS SO LONG SORRY AND ENJOY. byeee <3

p.s. i do plan to write an epilogue cuz this got crazy at the end. so much left unsaid. my brain is sooo... lol

—> m.list

—> welcome me on ao3 & twt

It was the same damn nightmare.

For the past three weeks you had been waking up in coldsweat, heart nearly beating out of your chest, breathing so out of control. You could barely hold yourself up.

And still somehow, you woke up drenching your panties of your own slick arousal.

It was the same nightmare from yesterday, the day before that, and the day before that. You would end up in a dark, ominous apartment. It was yours, but somehow different. The apartment was pitch black, flashing red lights from time-to-time, as if someone in the building had pulled the emergency alarm. You would crumble in your bed, closing your eyes and praying it would end soon. That’s when he would appear.

A man in all black, long dark tousled hair. His teeth were bright, you could tell by the smile on his face while he watched you wither away in your sheets. The glow in his dull, sharp eyes would shine even in the dark.

He watched as you squirmed in your bed, feeling heavy, unable to stand by your own strength.

“Don’t force it, darling. Take what you need.” The stranger would say with a strong raspy tone, smelling your arousal fall into the sheets below your bottom. You were always bare in your nightmares as if you were waiting and submitting for him.

You couldn’t resist the feeling. At his call, your fingers would come to relieve the ache between your thighs. Playing with yourself as if you were alone, but it was far from the truth. He would watch as you pumped yourself two fingers deep, sighing and whimpering, satisfied that you no longer felt empty.

Sometimes, well no most times, he would join you in your nightmares. He would tear your hands from your leaking cunt sparing mercy and you would complain against your sheets. The stranger wasn’t that bad, not for long at least, because he would fill you with his own two fingers, his eyes would dilate watching you fall apart. He was smooth and precise, he would curve his fingers, hitting your g-spot right on target, loving the sinful sounds you made as you arched your back and yelled moans without holding back.

Once he was satisfied and right as you were about to explode, he would pull away, whipping his hard, swollen cock out of his pants and tugs on himself, forcing you to watch as he pleased himself . Of course you wanted it, but this was so wrong, very wrong.

The worst part is he wouldn’t just give it to you, he would make you beg for it. “Talk to me baby, you want it?”

You would shake your head, denying him and trying to pull yourself from under him, but realistically it is all you wanted. You wanted to taste the beads that fell from the slit of his hard cock. He was fucking big and that itself made you go fucking insane, his hands wrapped around his length nicely. You tried to stop your thoughts from going any further, but your imagination was a powerful thing, thinking about how his pretty hands would feel wrapped around your throat instead of his dick.

“Oh, you don’t? Maybe I’ll just leave you like this then.” He would say and it fucked with your head.

That was the last thing you wanted. “But– m’ so empty.”

“Then beg for it slut, you don’t have to be empty and lonely for long.” His tongue was smooth and wet against your skin as he licked down your throat, sucking little marks onto your skin. He had you wrapped around his fucking fingers and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it. You wanted to move but at the same time, you wanted him to have his way with you. God can forgive you for this later.

“I c-can’t.”

“What a shame. I’ll just take care of myself and leave you here to watch.” He would start pumping his cock faster, tugging at the crown of his length.

You made an agonizing sound of complaint. “Please.”

“Please what little kitten?”

He was mean. So mean.

And you were fucking stupid.

“Please, f-fuck me.” You begged so sweetly.

The man would smile sinisterly before shoving himself deep inside you, forcing a scream of pleasure. He was not gentle in any way and you fucking liked that. As sick as it was.

He fucked you like his only mission was to make you come and drive you insane, pushing your legs far apart and brutally fucking deep into your walls.

He would watch you fall into your sheets, murmuring noncoherent words, completely submitting to the stranger you fell apart in his complete mercy.

What an honor.

“That's it baby. Squirt all over my dick.” His voice was always deep and you swore you could hear a smirk between his words.

Like magic his words would rip intense orgasms out of you and he would fuck you through them all until you eventually collapsed unconscious.

You wake up in a gasp, the wet feeling between your legs nearly makes you gag.

This can’t be. Not again.

“Baby, wake up.” A voice calls gently, soft hands soothe your back, patting and rubbing gently. “It’s just a nightmare, love. I’m here.”

“Joonie?”

“Yes baby. I’m here, go back to bed. I’ve got you.” His calm voice manages to settle the beating drum of your heart and still, this is the exact problem with these recurring nightmares.

Even as your fiancé rubs circles into your back, all you can think of is the hands of that strange man that would fuck you into a delrious state. You hated it. It felt too close to cheating.

If only Namjoon saw what your nightmares truly consisted of, he would be horrified and disgusted. Every night was worse, the guilt slowly started building in the pit of your stomach as you would daydream about the nightmare over and over and over.

…

“You okay baby?” Namjoon’s voice was gentle, aware that your mind was somewhere else during dinner.

“I- yes.” But you weren’t okay. Not one bit. Flashbacks of the man in your nightmares would haunt your thoughts. These nightmares would play in your head like old memories.

His hooded eyes watching as you fucked yourself open. He would whisper things like, ‘that’s it kitten, so fucking wet all for me’ and ‘good kitten, nice and tight for me’.

“Imagine what your fiancé would do if he saw the way you squirm in my hands. He could never fuck you the way I could, kitten. Isn't that right? Only I fuck you exactly the way you like it. My little submissive kitten.”

“Please.” Begging is all you could muster to do in your dreams. You felt pathetic. You never wanted someone so bad. The guilt only grew stronger when you realized you were fucking addicted to your own dreams. You started chasing these nightmares.

What was wrong with you?

“Baby?” Namjoon called your attention once again, smiling apologetically. “You feeling okay? Your face is quite flushed.”

Your hands fall onto your face feeling the slight burn against your palms. “Sorry. I’m okay, just a little hot in here is all.”

“It’s the end of October baby. It’s been really cold out. I’m surprised you aren't begging me to warm you up by now.” He tries to carry the conversation into a lighter, more casual matter.

A nervous smile breaks out onto your lips, as you brush a piece of hair out of your face. “Must just be experiencing hot flashes. It happens when I’m a bit more stressed than usual.”

“Anything you wanna talk about? You know you can talk to me.” He’s sweet and present for you as usual. You feel your heart drop thkining about how this is what you are missing out on by feeding into those stupid fucking nightmares. Something had to change.

Wake up, Y/N.

“Yeah, I know babe. It’s nothing to worry about. Just work stuff.” You make an excuse for yourself and it seems to work, for now.

“Mm, okay. Don’t be afraid to come to me for anything. I don’t want you suffering alone.” Your fiancé places a hand on top of yours, squeezing it softly.

“Thank you, Joonie.” This time you give him a real smile, but the guilt still stays hidden deep inside you watching as he reciprocates the smile back at you.

“There’s my beautiful bride-to-be. Stop worrying so much baby. Maybe you should take some time off from work. You know sleep usually makes you feel better. It always has. My sleepy girl.”

And there it goes and hits you all at once again.

Guilt. So much guilt. Sleep doesn’t even feel enough these days. The nightmares make you feel as if you never rest. You are clearly aware that dreams aren’t real life, but you even wake up sore from them. It’s scary how realistic it all feels. Maybe that’s why this makes it worse for you. Everything feels too real.

“Yeah… I’ll think about it.” But you won't because time off means resting and resting means more sleep and more time for these nightmares to keep haunting you. It’s like you will never win.

“Eat your dinner baby, it's getting cold.”

—-

The daydreams continue even at work.

“Let me see that perfect ass, kitten. Turn around for me.”

It’s like he completely owns you, hypnotized by his voice. You immediately present for him, face down and ass up sitting so nicely.

“Fuck kitten, look at you. Tell me, does that lame fiancé of yours ever play with this ass?”

You whimper a ‘no’ feeling a glob of spit drip into your unused, virgin hole. His thumb caressing the wet ring of muscle, watching you clench around nothing.

“I’ll change that soon, kitten. Just how you like it.”

Namjoon wasn’t necessarily opposed to butt stuff, the one time you mentioned it he briefly dismissed it. Granted, he was busy at the time with some work, and you were too embarrassed to bring it up again.

It seems you got lucky nonetheless.

The man blows hot air into your wet hole, his lips felt soft against your ass. He would leave a kiss here and there before his tongue peaked out and circled around your rim.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You weren’t the most vocal sexual partner yet somehow, under his touch, you were the loudest.

Moans fell dangerously loud from your lips as he would continue to fuck his tongue deep inside your ass. Stopping every few seconds to stare at your puffy rim, gaping around nothing. Fuck, what a sight for sore eyes you were.

“Please.”

“What baby?” His palm was heavy against your ass, watching it bounce back.

“More.” You would beg.

“Anything.” He would purr back.

A thumb circled around the velvety muscle before pushing right in, fucking his thumb alongside spit that dripped from his mouth.

Yes. Just how you like it.

“Y/N?” Your coworker brushes a hand against your shoulder. “You doing okay?”

“Shit– yeah, my bad Yoona. I’ve just been feeling a bit sick lately, I think I’m coming down with a cold.” Which is a complete lie, but how do you tell your coworker you’re having wet daydreams about another man (who by the way only exists in your imagination) that isn’t your fiancé and that it is taking over every part of your life and that the guilt of it all sits heavy on your chest as days pass by and there is nothing you can do about it, but indulge in these dreams and practically live in them because you’ve become an addict.

Yoona breathes out a light hum. “You don’t seem sick.”

Fuck.

“Yeah… well it’s just starting, my throat feels dry and sore these days.”

“Maybe you should take a day off?” She suggests.

“Yeah, maybe.” You agree just so she gets off your back.

“You’ve been working a lot these days anyways. I’m sure Mr. Gyun wouldn’t mind if you called off. You’re one of his favorites anyways.” She laughs and you fake a smile.

“Yeah, right. I’ll think about it. Let's just focus on work. We need this revised and sent off by Monday.”

“Sure sure. But I’m being serious, take a day off or two, you look like you need it. You seem… tired?” She says, worrying by the sound of her tone.

Because you know she will never let this go, you reassure her. “Yoona, I love you to death, but don’t worry too much, okay? I’ll take some time off if it gets worse. Thank you, really.”

“Alright, just looking after you Y/N. Your soon-to-be husband would kill me if I didn't.”

“I’ll tell him you’re doing a great job, now back to the transcripts…”

—-

You knew the night would eventually come.

There was only so much you could ignore and forget.

A sudden rush of heat wakes you from one of your nightmares, the jolt in your body scaring Namjoon awake beside you. You knew that he meant no trouble, but he gave you the face of ‘this again?’ and you could no longer push it aside.

“Baby?” Namjoon’s voice is tired and filled with sleep, but he asks anyways while patting your back gently, as he always does when this happens like the sweet fiancé he is. “What happens in these dreams anyways?”

How do you tell your husband-to-be and boyfriend of seven years that you get completely ruined by another man in your sleep?

Namjoon was far too sweet and innocent to get mad at you for this and you knew that. Yet the guilt never stopped you from feeling terribly about the situation.

“You won’t be upset with me?” Your voice comes out as a whisper.

Namjoon stands to turn on the nightlight by the bed before he lays back and wraps his strong arms around your waist. “Baby, look at me.”

With heavy eyes, you look back at your fiancé.

His palm cradles your soft cheek, pushing a loose hair behind your ear. “I could never be upset with you, my love. It might help to talk your nightmares through. I’ll be right here with you baby.”

With shaking hands, you take a deep breath. “Well, I don’t know where they come from, but there’s this man in my dreams.”

Namjoon raises a brow, doing his absolute best to understand you even while the clock reads in bold 3:44am.

“This man, he’s dressed in all black. He— he has these dark eyes.”

“Dark eyes?”

“Yeah, he— his eyes are dark, sharp all around, it’s sinister.”

“Okay. What happens?” He whispers, pulling you even closer into him, your hand falls into his chest for comfort.

“He— he…” You struggle finding the right words.

Namjoon’s eyes go wide. “Baby, d-does he hurt you?”

No. Of course not. In fact, he does the opposite. The man pleases you until you can’t give him anymore and he leaves you with sore limbs and the burning stretch between your legs as a reminder of what he’s done to you and what he’s capable of.

You quickly shake your head. “No but he- he touches me and does things to me.”

“Oh honey, why would I be mad at you about that? That’s completely unacceptable. Nobody should be touching you or doing things to you if you don't want it. I see now why this bothers—”

“Joonie, I feel,” you start and swallow the awful feeling in your throat, “ I feel like… if I've been cheating on you.”

“Baby, I know you would never. They’re just nightmares after all. It’s not like you enjoy it baby.” This is what you mean by Namjoon’s too innocent and kind-hearted to see past the lines between your words.

“But- I.”

“Wait… do you? Do you enjoy them?” Namjoon almost looks hurt to ask the question, but he’s quick to reassure you. “It’s okay baby, if you do.”

“I do.” You whisper like it’s some dirty secret.

There’s a pregnant pause before Namjoon pulls you completely flush against his body, rubbing circles behind your back. “It’s okay baby, it's okay. They’re just nightmares. They mean nothing.”

He kisses your hair for comfort and you let out a sob because they are much more than that to you and you know it. They are all you can think about. Shit, you think if you were given the chance, you would actually let that man have his way with you in real life. And it makes you feel disgusting because you know you enjoy this dynamic way too much.

At first, it was terrifying, you didn’t know the man and he, well he just became a weakness and you wanted him so bad, as much as you hated to admit it. Your imagination was a powerful tool. Why you and why with him? Why couldn’t your dreams be with Namjoon, your high school sweetheart?

“I’m so sorry, Joonie. For all these long nights. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. The nightmares don’t stop, in fact they only feel longer and they get worse.” You cry into his chest.

“I know honey, it’s not your fault. Just think of me whenever you feel this way, okay?” He pulls back, wiping your tears off with his sleeves. Your fiancé was so fucking sweet and that’s why you fell in love with him in the first place. He was never angry at you or disappointed. Namjoon was always patient with you and a complete sweetheart. God, you’re so fucking stupid.

“And I’m not mad at you, okay? I never will be. Those nightmares mean nothing to me. I love you Y/N.” Your fiancé whispers into your hair, kissing the side of your face.

Namjoon has always been way better than you because had you been in his shoes, you couldn’t phantom hearing about him enjoying the presence of another woman. He knew only one part of this story. Namjoon doesn’t know that you spend evenings, the time you have the house alone while he’s off at work, fucking yourself to this strange man’s voice in your head. That you open yourself up just how you do in your nightmares and you swear you hear his voice telling you to keep going. You swear you hear him calling your name asking you about how Namjoon would feel about this. Like if his whole purpose is to make you feel worse about the situation. He’s ruining your life and you’re letting him. You think you’ve given up and it’s just started.

“I- I love you too.” You reply.

Namjoon smiles apologetically, hands gentle against your skin. “Let’s sleep?”

You nod and he pulls you against his hard chest, rubbing your back while he attempts to lull you back to sleep. It eventually comes, but not before you wake to those dark eyes again and the nightmare continues. This time you don't even fight it. He fucks you until you feel yourself collapse and you swear nothing has ever felt better.

…

The next morning Namjoon gently shakes you awake. “Good morning my love, you slept through your alarm. I figured you could take a day off so I called your boss to let him know you couldn’t come in today. I hope you don't mind.”

“Joonie?” Your voice is the cutest in the mornings (according to Namjoon), he smiles watching you struggle to wake up.

“Yes, my baby. I’m just getting ready to leave for work, but I wanted to say goodbye before I leave.”

Well, it’s not like you have a choice so you accept your fate. “Oh, okay. Thank you.”

“No problem, honey. You slept quite well. You didn’t even wake up this time! Did it help? Talking through it?” Again, Namjoon could be so clueless.

The only reason you slept this well is because you were fucked into oblivion in your dream. As unbelievable as it may sound, you even felt sore down there. But he doesn’t have to know that, so he’ll just go off to work thinking that cuddles and his sweet words drifting you back to sleep actually worked.

“Yeah… yeah it did. Thank you again. Have a nice day at work.” You say, still warmly tucked in bed.

“I will, baby. ” He drops a peck into your cheek, smelling the fresh scent of his aftershave. “Call me if anything. See you later, my love.”

And like that you are left alone once again. The only thing that remains is the fluffy feeling of his plump lips buzzing against your cheek, a faint reminder that you are loved and have been for years, while you think about another man, one that only exists in your deepest darkest of dreams.

—-

Hoseok doesn’t remember how it happened. All he knew is he was standing in a place unknown, sensing there was another being in the room with him.

It's not his first time around a mortal human. No, in fact he had so much experience with lustful humans with all kinds of desires and wishes, but it has been quite long since he was manifested this strongly into someone’s dreams.

His favorite part was watching them act as if they didn’t ask for it. Call for him. They would lie and say that they could never fuck a dead being. A ghost at that. As if they didn’t manifest him themselves.

It's not like it was Hoseok’s fault for dying young and handsome and that now he tends to people’s guiltiest pleasures. It's not like he has anything better to do in the after-life. In reality, he’s doing people a grand fucking favor. The best thing about fucking a dead ghost is there’s absolutely no consequences, at least that’s what he always tells his victims. Unless you get addicted to one, then that’s really a personal problem. They can’t stay on mortal land forever, but for the time being Hoseok has become attached to his time here. Especially with his new little mortal toy.

When he first heard the calling, he almost missed it. He was fucking another mortal, a man in his mid-twenties to be exact. The man had called for him in his dreams and he attended to his duty with pleasure.

This man had a thing for clowns and Hoseok wasn’t no fucking clown, but he did his best to please him. His outfit was in all black (of course, it was his favorite color) and fit him quite well though it was different from his usual style, even down to the clown hat and all.

The guy would scream under Hoseok as he would pound into him like some fuck-doll and would have him come undone within minutes. He was so fucking easy to please. They always are.

When Hoseok came to you the first night. That’s how you found him. He still had the same outfit on (he was ripped from the last dream) and his hat had nearly fallen off in the process, but he was pleased when he came across his next victim. You were beautiful.

“Who— who are you?” You screeched, covering yourself up, cheeks flushed. You had been doing unspeakable things to yourself in the dream. “What are you doing in my room?!”

Hoseok smiles. God, they always are the same. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to and don’t mind me, keep doing what you were doing before I had rudely interrupted.”

The stranger goes to sit by the vanity in your room, making himself extremely comfortable as if it is a regular Tuesday night for him.

You try to stand and it's like something washes over you. The strange force pushes you back down and you have no choice but to take it.

The man chuckles, throwing his hat aside. “Don’t hurt yourself trying. Just let your instincts guide you. Tell me what it is you want, this will all go much smoother and much faster.”

The stranger in black winks and you feel disgusted (though your pussy doesn’t seem to agree with you).

Still you manage to say, “I want you to get out of my fucking room. I’m about to get married, you know and he’ll fucking kill you.”

“Ohhh.” He purrs, standing as he walks across the room. He stops a couple steps from your bed and leans down to match your height. “But you asked for me to come, baby. So guess what? Now I am your problem.”

He pinches your nose, wrinkling his own in the process and flashes a charming smile.

You swat his hand off you almost immediately. “I— I didn’t ask for anything. I don’t even know you and I don’t want to know you.”

“Mm, but soon we’ll know each other very well. Let’s not fight this.” The man’s voice is silky and you could practically see the sinful desire in his eyes while they take in your naked figure.

You have no idea what he even means by that, but right now you could care less. This is just a nightmare and soon enough, he will disappear and you will get to go back to doing what you were doing before he ever existed.

“Leave me alone please.”

The guy puts his hands up clearly coming and going in peace, while retreating back a few steps. “Whatever you say princess. I’ll be back when you’re ready.”

And just like that the man disappeared into a black distorted shadow.

He shows up only three nights later.

This time he catches you on your knees, riding a dildo on your bed. You don’t even hear him until he’s in front of you. Your hips stop mid roll. Whimpering as you feel the tug on your hair.

“Seems you’re ready.” He rasps, having a strong grip on your hair forcing you to look up at him.

“I— who the fuck are you? Seriously? What do you want with me? I know I’m dreaming and I can wake up any secomd so what the fuck do you want with me.” This time you don’t even entertain him. It’s clear this man has his own vulgar intentions, you wanna skip the small talk. He doesn’t seem like the type to give up until he gets exactly what he wants.

“The better question is what do you want with me. You manifested me after all, darling.”

Your eye twitches at the pet name, but you ignore it, for now. “But— I don't know you. How is that fucking possible?”

Even though he knows you won't understand it completely, he still answers truthfully. “I’m dead baby. Anything is possible.”

Great, so you’re just supposed to believe this man is some ghost haunting you in your dreams. Perfect!

This time you don’t ignore his stupid use of pet names. “S-Stop calling me that.”

“Oh?” The man pouts, and to be honest that does something to you. If the situation was different maybe you would admit he looks fucking sexy, even if he’s a menace.

His brows furrow, his jawline clenching as he speaks. “Is there another pet name you like? We’re already getting farther than last time, princess.”

You don’t even attempt to hold back the scoff, your eyes roll back. “No. I don’t— I didn't ask for you and I don’t want you bothering me anymore. Just please leave me alone. Please.”

The man groans, looking down at you with hooded eyes, the fist in your hair grips harder reminding you that he still had you under his control. “God, but you sound perfect begging. Are you sure of that, kitten?”

The man's voice drops in a sultry tone, nearling purring while he speaks. And somehow, that manages to slip a whine from your throat, nearly drooling at the sight.

Your eyes immediately widen. “I— I didn't mean that.”

“Oh, so that’s what you like.” The man smiles, petting your head affectionately. You were fucked. “Of course you didn't. You were so close weren't you, kitten?”

You shake your head, you’re unable to look away, but at the same time you want to throw his hands off you. You felt completely powerless under his gaze and you were liking it a lot more than you would like to admit.

“Don’t bother lying to me princess, I can smell it. You were so fucking close.” He whines the last part, biting his bottom lip, he seems to breathe in the scent. “So fucking close. I’m sorry. I always join at the worst times, you can continue.”

He offers like a fucking weirdo, pervert and still you disgustingly want it.

“I said, don't call me that!” Your hand flies to his and forces it off you.

“Then talk to me.” He’s rough, but firm with his tone.

“No. I don’t- can't and I won't. Go bother someone else.”

“I can’t. You asked for me and you brought me here. Now you have to deal with this.” He doesn't attempt to put his hands back on you, but he does let his gaze wander seeing as you still haven’t moved from your dildo.

“This is bullshit. It’s just in my head anyways. If I close my eyes it’s like you aren’t even here. Now let me fucking come in peace.” Your eyes closed in the middle of your rant and he seemed to listen. Hoseok backs off, watching you from your wall to be exact, but he lets you take care of yourself. That’s what he’s there for after all.

After a few seconds of calming yourself down and regaining your arousal, you slowly lift yourself up feeling the dildo pull against your walls and you drop yourself back down.

Hoseok was right, you weren’t too far away from coming, but he messed up your pace and now you have to work yourself back up.

It doesn’t take too long before you set a quick pace, fucking yourself onto the silicone length.

Truly it wasn’t that you and Namjoon’s sex life was bad, in fact he was the best fuck of your life (not that you had much experience given he was your high school sweetheart) but after years of being together, things had changed, a lot.

You don’t even remember the last time you guys got creative in bed, besides a few vibrators from time-to-time. It was starting to get boring and you didn't want to admit this to him, but you wanted so much more. It's like your body was begging for it. And you didn’t want to hurt his feelings by saying it, so instead you kept it to yourself and the sexual frustration built up overtime making it impossible not to think about constantly.

You gasp when you finally open your eyes to find the man watching you with heavy lidded eyes from your wall, he’s not even touching himself, but you can see he’s hard in his pants.

He licks his lips as he watches you jump down on the dildo ferociously. Your eyes make contact and that's when everything seems to explode.

Moans start slipping from your lips and you feel the knot in your stomach start to build quickly. The silicone molds around your walls perfectly, feeling the tip brush against your sweet spot repeatedly, fisting the sheets below you.

Hoseok’s nose seems to flare and he can practically taste your arousal in the air. He watches as you bounce on that useless dildo, wishing it was his cock instead. Your mouth falls open, drool nearly spilling while you feel the knot coming undone.

It isn’t long before Hoseok finally decides to speak and it does wonders. “Come, you fucking slut.”

Fuck.

On call, you come and he’s forced to watch you moan and writhe against your sheets, feeling the dildo slowly push out of you.

He pushes himself off the wall and comes towards you and you feel too exhausted to push him away. You are laying in the middle of your bed now, dildo still between your legs but it’s fallen out.

You feel as he pushes the dildo back inside you overstimulating your used hole as he fucks it into you deeply. You really, really shouldn't let this happen. You are going to be a married woman soon for fuck’s sake, but it all feels so fucking good- risky yet new, so you can’t help but to feed into temptation.

Sadly, your body denies it, for now at least. “N-No I can't. Not anymore.”

His action comes to a halt. “I know. Maybe next time, kitty.”

And he disappears once again.

Disappointment and guilt builds all too quickly.

Disappointed that he didn’t stay and fuck you until you passed out. And guilt that you just came in the eyes of another man and on his call.

—-

As expected, you spend your whole day off thinking about the stranger. The way he looks at you, the way he bites his bottom lip while taking you in. The way he grips your hair and clenches his sharp, symmetrical jawline when he has you falling apart in his hands. You could feel his touch, it’s impossible you know, but it all feels too real and it all happens so fast.

He had a name now. He told you in one of your dreams while he was taking you from behind.

“Say my name kitten. Who’s fucking you this good? Fuck, what a sight from behind. You’re just perfect all around, aren’t you?” Hoseok’s hands grip onto your ass cheeks, fucking into your pussy brutally. He hasn’t stopped pounding into you and it’s already been ten minutes. Maybe more? Maybe less? You stopped counting. Good dick leaves you feeling stupid.

“H-Hoseok.” You whimper into your pillow, you think you have officially lost your fucking mind.

“What?” You swear you can hear the smirk on his lips.

“Hoseok.” You’re louder this time, but your voice is muffled, face falling into your pillow.

“Louder slut!” There’s a sting on your ass and he has a fistful of your hair, lifting your face from up the pillow while he continues to ram into you from behind. You realize you are so fucking close and he knows it too, you try to meet his strong thrusts, but it’s no use because it knocks the air from under you. He manages to hold you up with a strong grip. “Fuck, fuck. You’re so tight around me, kitty. You gonna come on my dick now like a good slut? Huh?”

“Yes!” This time your voice is loud and you scream without holding back. “Hoseok! Hoseok! Oh, nghh… fuck, Hoseok!”

His name falls from your lips over and over while you come on his cock, just like he asked of you. That satisfies him enough and he squirts his own orgasm all over your plump ass, watching you come down from your own afterglow.

You had come to the fucked conclusion that the only way to possibly fucking fix something like this (as sick as it may sound) is to fuck it away. You had to tell Namjoon, maybe experiment a bit more just so you can finally get this man out of your head. Regain your peace of mind. Namjoon would do anything you’d ask of him, you could assure that. You just had to find a way to tell him so he wouldn’t feel it was his fault or as if he was lacking. Or you could just not tell him.

Either way you think fucking this away would help for the time being at least.

Sex is a very special and intimate practice and that’s genuinely how it always felt with Namjoon. He always took his time with you and fucked you slow and deep.

Before, you will admit that it was nice and that’s why he attracted you so much but now, you don’t want it to be nice or slow. You want someone to play rough, break your limits, and touch you in places you haven’t been touched before. You want to be tossed around, fucked until you can’t speak any coherent sentences. Was that just too much to ask for?

(Hoseok sure didn't think so.)

Right as you had finished cooking dinner, Namjoon made his way through the front door, setting his work bag down by the coat rack.

“You’re cooking?” Namjoon asks, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in for a quick kiss. “Smells good.”

“Yeah, I figured you deserved a nice meal to come home to. I didn’t have much else to do.” You swiftly kiss him back.

Namjoon pulls you in closer, arms holding you tightly. He still smells as fresh as he did when he first left. “I told you to rest, my love. You didn’t have to do anything.”

“I know, I know. I really wanted to though. Let’s just eat, we'll talk after.” He nods and kisses your cheek once more.

“Let's eat then.”

…

Namjoon decides a movie night is needed on a night like tonight.

You were more clingy than usual (and of course, he loves it). So he puts on a random movie and allows you to cuddle him up to the fullest of your extent.

“You’re so cuddly today, my love.” Namjoon whispers into your hair, mid-movie.

“I just missed you is all.” And you really did, it's been long since you and Namjoon had an intimate night (maybe since these dreams started), you think it's finally time.

He smiles rubbing his hand down your arm. “I missed you too honey.”

You lift your head from his chest and lean in slowly, he immediately picks up on the drift and leans down to meet your lips.

His lips are soft against yours, kissing you with gentle movements. His palm comes to rest on your cheek while you escalate the kiss.

Your tongue comes up slowly and he lets you in quite easily. You take a hand and rake it down his chest, pulling yourself on his lap carefully.

You start to slowly whine your hips, making it all too obvious about what you need and want. Namjoon follows along without complaints.

“Do you wanna?” Namjoon asks, a bit breathless, bringing his forehead against yours.

“Yes.” You whisper. “Yes, please.”

Namjoon smiles and steals one last kiss before he attempts to stand, thinking it would be best to move this to the bed, but you hold him down with a shove to his abdomen.

“No. I want it, right here.” You say, finding yourself a little breathless yourself, you needed this.

His eyes seem to widen for the moment, but he seems to agree and pulls you back in for a kiss, this time he lets his tongue push into your mouth further exploring. He tastes the sweet tang of red wine on your tongue and he groans into the kiss.

You pull back only for a second as you get rid of your shirt and he starts to unbutton his own. Once the shirts are off, you tug your bra off freeing your breast and bring your lips back together with great force.

Though he doesn’t complain, Namjoon is in shock. He hasn’t seen you this needy and desperate in years, he thinks? Or at least he doesn’t remember it like that. He lets you rut against his already hard member and kisses you with equal passion.

The next time he pulls away, he tugs on your leggings and he helps you out of them. Typically your panties come down with it, but you decide you’ll just push them aside. You return the offer by pushing his jeans down, including his briefs, his dick slaps against his stomach weighing heavy.

Your mouth instantly waters, but right now you want him inside the rest will just have to come another time.

Namjoon looks at you with so much love and admiration and for a minute, the guilt comes crashing down. You want him, you know you do so why is the guilt still there? Is it because even as you have your lover right where you want him all you can think about is how the stranger (Hoseok) from your dreams would have had you flipped onto the couch and had his way with you hours ago. Maybe he would have fucked you against the kitchen counter, defile the damn marble. Maybe he would have taken you right against your front door, like the slut you wanted to be for him. All you know for sure is he wouldn’t have let this much time pass.

You shake your stupid thoughts away and look back up at your fiancé. This is where you want to be. Where you fucking belong. Without letting your imagination run wild, you rub yourself against Namjoon’s hard length, spreading your arousal all over him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet baby.” He bites a moan back, feeling your warm juices, slicken his cock.

You moan against his mouth when you feel the tip latch on to your hole, slowly sinking down on him. You feel his cock stretch your warm walls and he feels he could come already. It's just been so long (can anyone really blame him).

You bring your hips up a bit before crashing back down feeling the burn on your tight heat.

“So warm and tight baby.” His hands land on your hips, toying with the band of your panties. “Come here.”

Namjoon brings you flush against his chest slowing your movement, his lips crash into yours. The kiss feels much different from before. He doesn’t hold back, as soon as your tongue clashes with his, he sucks and bites it playfully. You groan into his mouth, accidentally squeezing harder against his length.

“Fuck baby, just like that.” His dick twitches deeply against your velvety walls, you can tell he’s holding back. “I think I’ll come soon if you continue like this.”

Like hell, you’ll let him come now, you’ve barely had your fill. Without no desire to, you slowly slide off his dick, dropping knees first onto the cold floor below you.

“Baby–” Namjoon starts, but you push his hands away as he tries to pull you back up.

“Let me do this, you’ll last longer.” He hesitates, but eventually surrenders, laying his hands aside. “Don’t be scared to use your hands, use my mouth, Joonie.”

Fuck. How could his own perfect, sweet wife-to-be sound this seductive? He hasn’t heard you talk this way since college. And it’s been years since that. He thought the years of young, hot sex were over but he’s been wrong all along. His fiancée was the sexiest woman in the world, that he was sure of.

Namjoon’s hands find your hair and push you towards his glistening length. It’s already drying, shame, you thought, let’s keep it warm and wet.

Wrapping hands around it, you take his cock into your mouth, sliding your tongue across the slit, hearing a raspy moan come from Namjoon’s throat. “That’s it baby, God your mouth feels incredible.”

The tip of his cock weighs heavy against your tongue. He’s breathing heavy, while he watches you take him in further. You warm his cock with your mouth just as nicely as when you were on top of him.

Hollowing your cheeks, you take him as far as you could go, hearing his desperate grunts. Namjoon takes a grip of your hair (he’s still very gentle with it and you try not to be disappointed) and pushes you just a bit further, feeling your throat stretch around him. “F-Fuck baby. I really won’t last.”

You tap his thigh and he immediately lets go when he sees your eyes water. You pull off with a pop to catch your breath. “I know.”

Your voice is raspy and it’s the sexiest thing Namjoon has ever heard. And you know exactly how to make this whole situation better. Sometimes, a little whiny purr in your voice is all that’s needed to get exactly what you need. “I just want you to come down my throat. Please, fuck my throat daddy.”

Now if Namjoon wasn’t sure he could bust before, he could definitely nut in your fist right in that instant. Yes, he has a daddy kink, sue him.

“Come here.” Namjoon demands, doesn’t hesitate this time to tug you up a little harder and place you in his lap, before he shoves your back against the couch.

“W-What are you doing?” You ask, but the answer is pretty obvious when you see him line his cock up to your hole.

“Fucking you. I’m gonna come inside you. Don’t worry baby, I won’t stop fucking you until you are statisfied.” It’s like music to your ears, his hard member slaps against your clit before he slowly eases back inside you.

Both moaning at the feeling, he lets you adjust for a few seconds, but you waste no time to wrap your legs around his hips and pull him close.

“Please daddy, just fuck me.” You whine into his ear.

This time Namjoon pulls back and right before he slides out, he slams back in, balls smacking into your ass. He fucks you just like that for a while. He’s fast but skilled, finding your sweet spot quite easily. It reminds you both of older times, when things were much easier, when you were both young and easily influenced.

You moan loudly into his neck, toes curling as he fucks his dick deep inside you. “Right there daddy, please don’t stop.”

Sweat starts forming on his forehead and his hair that had once been held back by gel begins sticking to skin. It isn’t a surprise to feel him thrust harder and faster, his tongue poking at his cheek as he concentrates. “Fuck baby, I really missed fucking you just like this. You feel so tight around me, look so fucking sexy, just like this baby.”

You eat up his praise, biting your bottom lip as you feel the tight grip he has on your hips, drilling into you like he used to. Fuck, maybe you were right. This was exactly what you needed. There’s no Hoseok in your head right now. No unwanted thoughts in your mind. It’s just you and Namjoon. How it always should have been.

A whimper falls between your lips and you feel Namjoon leaving hickey’s around your tits, covering them beautifully with his own little marks.

Your legs start to shake around him, and warmth starts spreading through you quickly. “Daddy— I- I think I’m gonna fucking come.”

Namjoon grunts, mouth around your nipple while he pulls off to speak. “Yeah baby? You wanna come?”

Yes.

No.

Not really.

Preferably you would like him to control your fucking orgasm, flip you around, start pounding into you until you can’t hold yourself together but this will have to do.

“Y-Yeah. I wanna come.”

“Come sweetheart.” It’s not long before you moan sweetly through an orgasm, Namjoon fucks you through it as promised and you feel like you are levitating, he maintains sinful eye contact. His thrust starts to become sloppy and you feel the instant he lets go.

“Inside daddy, inside.” With one final strong stroke, Namjoon comes deep inside you, his breathy moans feel hot against your ear.

There’s a few minutes of heavy breathing, settling into the couch below you. Namjoon’s breaths follow close behind yours, arm tucked below your breasts, he lays behind you.

“You were so wonderful my love, I’m sorry we don’t do that enough.” Namjoon breaks the silence, kissing the side of your head.

For the twentieth time that week, guilt falls heavy onto your chest. You didn’t deserve him, he didn’t deserve this.

“No, don’t apologize Joonie. It’s my fault, really. I’ve just been… out of it. But I feel much better. All thanks to you. Thank you, thank you for everything you do for me and our home.” You start getting emotional, but you don't let your tone waver. You didn’t want him to know.

“You know I’d do it all for you, my love” He whispers into your hair, kissing along the soft skin behind your neck. “I can’t wait to marry you baby.”

There it is again, guilt.

“I know, I know. Me either.”

“I love you.” He doesn't hesitate to remind you sweetly.

It hurts to say it with all that is going through your mind, but you force a reply anyway. “I love you too.”

…

Sleep comes over you quickly that night.

Finally, you had fucked your sweet and loving fiancé and for once, your dreams don’t start off with you fucking yourself into an orgasm.

In fact, you don’t dream, at least you don't recall.

Hoseok immediately knows something is different when he arrives. He doesn’t smell arousal in the air, no this time he can tell you’ve been fucked. He can smell the come leftover deep inside your walls. He’s impressed to say the least.

He watches your chest rise and fall, a small pout framing on your lips. You sleep beautifully, he thinks you will look even better after he’s done with you for today.

With careful steps, he makes his way to the end of your bed, you jerk your arm so suddenly in your sleep and he holds back a laugh. He’s quiet when he sits besides your sleeping head, gentle fingers run through your hair.

“Mm.” You hum sweetly in your sleep, molding against his touch, thinking it was your husband-to-be playing with your hair like he normally does.

Before you hear him say, “someone had a good night. Isn’t that right kitten?”

Your eyes widen, nearly jumping out of bed, but Hoseok’s hands stop you from moving. “It’s just me baby.”

“H-How?” Your voice is raspy with sleep. “You were supposed to be gone.”

Hoseok smiles wide, hand still caressing the back of your head. “Did you really think that would happen, kitten?”

“Yes.”

“You let him fuck you.” He says like he knows for sure it's a fact. He doesn’t look too happy about it and your deafening silence answers his unspoken question. He pats your cheek. “Naughty kitty.”

You gulp, his pretty hand wrapping around your throat as he asks the next question. “Did you like it?”

“Yes.” It’s not a lie and he knows it too.

“Yeah? He fuck you better than me?” You gulp again.

“Yes.” No.

“Why do you lie to me, kitten?” His eyes flash red (they don’t), but the look he gives you is enough to warn you. Things are about to get serious so fast. “I know everything.”

You know that saying people say about fucking around and finding out. You were about to fuck around and find out real fucking fast that Hoseok doesn’t play with his toy.

“Then what the fuck are you going to do about it, huh?” The only warning you get is Hoseok’s smile and then he’s fisting your hair tightly. Jawline clenched, watching as his eyes hood and darken.

“Fuck yourself open, you slut.” He drops the grip on your hair and stands, serious look on his face, he’s not fucking around at all tonight. His hands are quick, tugging his belt off. “Make it quick.”

When he sees you still haven’t moved, a warning comes to you by a strong fistful of hair, shoving you so closely against his face. His breath hits yours, but your lips don’t touch, even though they are so fucking close. You’re tempted to steal a kiss from those soft looking lips, but you’ve acted up enough. “I said, fuck yourself open.”

He drops his grip, letting your head fall into the mattress. Hoseok’s voice is strong and demanding so you stop fucking around and pull the sheets off your body. His eyes fall on your breasts, they are covered in hickey’s freshly made by Namjoon and he tries not to let that affect him. But damn him, he wishes it was him instead. He knows you would never sleep unsatisfied. He would always make sure you slept fucked and sated. Even if that meant, falling asleep on his cock.

There’s a slight burn when your finger finds its way to your pussy. Namjoon did a number on you, but it makes it easier to fuck yourself open. His come still settling deep inside you.

Hoseok has his shirt off now and he tugs his briefs and pants down all at once, his cock springs out, looking delicious as ever. You hear a dark chuckle behind you. “Uh-uh, wrong hole kitty, I’m fucking that ass tonight.”

You whimper when his hand comes to stop your movements.

“I’m not fucking that dirty hole. Turn around. I wanna see you from behind.” He’s not putting it up for question. You push yourself up on your knees and fall back against the bed, lifting your ass towards his direction.

He curses behind you and smacks your ass. Leaving a red hand mark behind, it almost is as pretty as your face. “Fuck kitten, you really are pretty all around. Fuck that hole open for me.”

You feel spit hit your hole and your index finger rubs his saliva around your rim. Your chest is heavy, this time for different reasons, you are completely breathless.

You can’t see Hoseok, but you hear as he opens the drawer beside your bed, it’s where you kept all your toys and lube. You are a finger-deep inside your ass when you hear the lube cap open, Hoseok is kind enough to warm the lube a bit between his fingers before he rubs against your rim and finger. He lets a bit of the lube dribble down your ass cheeks. Hoseok likes it a bit messy and wet. He clicks it close and tosses it besides you.

“My perfect submissive slut.” He whispers, hands settling on your ass as you finger yourself open with two fingers now, the burn hurts but it feels so damn good. Namjoon has never fucked your ass, but it has always been one of your sexual desires. Nothing could ever compare to an orgasm through anal and Hoseok has taught you a lot about that.

Another glob of spit hits your rim and you feel him squeeze a finger in. The burn of three fingers tear through you, moaning into the sheets. “Mm, fuck.”

He grins watching you hold back moans, biting your lips hard.

“Maybe I should punish you tonight.” He suggests, still fucking his finger in your ass alongside your own. “If you come like this I’ll let you suck my dick if I’m still feeling nice.”

You complain, turning around to face him, back still arched. “No… please, please Hoseok. F-Fuck me. Fuck my ass.”

“No.” He’s cold like usual and you know he won’t budge so it's no use.

“But I-I’ve been waiting patiently. I thought all day about you.” It almost sounds like a purr and Hoseok loves it, spanking the fat in your hips this time with an unoccupied hand. His finger is still deep inside your ass and doesn’t let down.

“Yeah? Tell me about that.” He starts to jerk himself off in the process, the leftover lube in his fingers makes the slide easier, his tongue wets his lips while he maintains eye contact.

Your cheeks are burning but you continue, “I thought about your huge cock splitting me open. Forcing me to take you e-even when I can’t anymore. I thought about you spitting into my messy hole like you always do. I thought about you fucking me open against the door. Even the kitchen counter. All day, I’ve missed you all day.”

This seems to satisfy him enough so he plays nice. “Turn over. On your back. Show me those tits.”

He pulls his finger out slowly and you miss it immediately but you listen, your own fingers slide out as you turn around for him. His knees hit the bed pulling your thighs apart as he falls between them, his arm falling beside your head. He’s still fisting his hard length, watching your tits rise and fall as you breathe.

His tongue comes out and licks around your breasts purposely avoiding your nipple. “You let him mark you.”

“He’s my husband-to-be.” You answer, holding back a moan when he sucks on your skin, gentle enough not to make any marks. “Of course, I did.”

“Mm.” He hums into your skin, it vibrates and your pussy responds to this, leaking arousal into the sheets. “What else did you let him do, kitten?”

“He fucked me.” You whisper, practically vibrating below him.

“Oh I know that. I smell it.” He looks like he wants to laugh, but instead continues sucking around your other breast, giving both tits the attention they deserve.

“Squeeze them together.” He orders and you listen quickly. His tongue slides and sucks between them, still avoiding your nipples and it drives you insane. You want to feel him.

“Please.” Your voice is weak.

“Please what?” He asks, looking up dumbfounded, but he knows exactly what you want. He’s making you work for it. “Tell me kitten. What do you want?”

“Y-Your mouth.” You struggle.

“Where?” He breathes out, right on top of your nipple, tongue nearly sliding against it.

“R-Right there.” Your eyes never move.

You watch as he sticks his long, pink tongue out and very slowly licks your already hardened nipple.

“Here?” He asks between his own breaths and you moan softly, sounding sweet against his ears.

“Yes.” You whisper-moan.

He drops his cock, letting it hit your cunt while he starts to suck on your nipples like they deserve. There’s nothing sweet and gentle about this. It’s like he wants to replace Namjoon’s love bites and leave you with his own.

He switches off onto the previous breast and his hand comes to play with your other breast while he attends to the new one. He licks and sucks harshly, bruising your tender skin. You writhe against him, pussy brushing along his cock, but his hand comes to halt your actions quickly with a strong grip on your hip.

“Be good, slut.” Is all he says before he continues marking your breasts and you can’t do a single thing, but moan and whine underneath him, feeling empty. The memory of Namjoon is long forgotten.

Once Hoseok is satisfied with his work. He grins and pulls away. He grabs the bottle of lube beside you and lathers his cock in it. “Should I fuck you now?”

You are quick to nod and you feel bubbly.

Finally.

“Yeah? You think you deserve it?” He tempts and teases, his lubed fingers touch your chin and you open with ease, taking all three fingers he offers you inside your mouth. You suck hard and watch him bite his lip.

You moan around his fingers, his other hand gripping his slicken cock and you feel it catch around your rim.

“Beg for it, slut.” He slides his fingers out, saliva drips down your chin, you probably look a mess but you don't even care anymore. The sinful desire and lust is ten times worse than any other feeling.

“Please, Hoseok. Please.” You beg. “I’d do anything. Anything.”

He sees red for two seconds and then he says. “Then keep your legs open for me. Try to stay awake. Don’t disappoint me this time, kitten.”

There’s no warning for when he plunges his hard length inside your slicked rim. You know he won’t be going anywhere near your pussy, keeping his promise. You didn’t deserve it. You let someone else use your hole and now he’s punishing you.

“Oh. My. God.” You moan, it fucking burns, but soon his thrusts turn into pleasure and his cock brushes your sweet spot. It’s like he’s known you all your life, knowing the exact way to tear you apart, piece by piece.

“Ghost actually, not God, but I’ve met him. He’s not the sweet and forgiving man everyone mentions he is.” Hoseok says this all while buried deep between your ass cheeks and you would actually laugh about this if the situation was different, but instead you moan and clench around him feeling his balls slap faster against your ass. “That’s it kitten, lose your fucking mind.”

And that is exactly what you do.

Hoseok continues ramming his hips into yours for a few minutes, you aren’t speaking clearly anymore so he doesn’t understand a word you tell him, all he knows is that you must be feeling fucking ecstasy by the way you roll your eyes and yell moans.

His hands grip your hips and he comes to a stop. “Face down. Ass up. I wanna see that ass while I pound it from behind.”

You don’t reply to him, but you seem to understand. With weak movements, you move and nearly fall face first into the bed, weak limbs. You don’t even have the strength to hold yourself together anymore. Hoseok is kind enough to help though, he places a pillow below your hips, just high enough so he can slide right back inside your tight ass.

He hears your muffled moans against your bedsheets, watching you weakly grip them.

“Such a nice ass. It’s a shame really.” Your ass bounces while he mounts you from behind, it’s fast but precise, hitting your walls just right at every harsh thrust.

“W-What is?” He barely hears you reply.

“That this ass isn’t played with enough and soon I’ll just be a fidget of your imagination. You’ll forget I ever existed and you’ll never, ever receive the sexual satifisation you deserve. But maybe, one day, when it’s your turn to go, you’ll meet me in the after-life and I’ll show you just how much I’ve missed this sweet ass.” The ghost’s voice almost sounds sad and you freeze. You don’t want this to end. No.

“T-Then don’t stop fucking me. Keep me here forever.” You whisper frantically, breath hot and heavy.

“Oh trust me baby, I would if I could. For now, I won’t stop. Stay awake, kitten.” You don’t even notice you are falling unconscious, the stretch and burn of his cock is exhausting and your ass takes him greedily, but his words wake you.

He grips the side of your hips, pressing his thumbs into your back as he sets a faster pace. Slamming and ramming his dick deep within you. The moans and gasps that slip from your mouth sound so pretty, God he really wishes it would never fucking end, but he feels you slipping between his hands already.

What the fuck can he do?

Hoseok is close himself, how could he not be? He’s been practically edging himself for hours and now that he has such a juicy ass at hand, with the most perfect woman he has ever seen, he could practically come inside your velvet walls right now.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You curse and moan below him, you tremple and shake, the knot inside your stomach is barely holding up. “‘M so close.”

He nods, forgets you can’t see him. He harshly tugs you around, still quite limp and weak between his arms. “Wanna see that face when you come on my cock.”

He plunges back inside, lips close to yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. And then you realize, he hasn’t kissed you. This entire time. He’s fucked you religiuosly for weeks on end and you don’t even know what those heart-shaped lips taste like against yours. Would they be as sweet as they look? Would he kiss you gently or would he be harsh and rough like the way he fucks? You wonder about it all at once and it makes you sad for a moment. You want a kiss. Why wouldn’t he kiss you?

“Kiss me.” You breathe out, he’s grunting above your mouth still fucking you nice and deep. You are beyond positive you won’t be able to move your ass tomorrow but it’s worth it, it’s always worth it.

He looks up and then looks back down, concentrating on his thrust, you moan but hold your ground.

“Please. Kiss me.” You whisper, gasping when you feel the knot start to come undone. He knows you’re about to let go and this only drives him to bottom out faster and quicker. Skin smacking quickly against skin. Your asshole has been shaped and molded just for him. You’re loving every second of it, but he still hasn’t kissed you.

Why?

Your arms weakly wrap around his shoulders, he breathes heavy and hot against your ear now. It’s messy, sweaty and his touch is usually rough, but it feels awfully gentle now. He’s still rough inside your soft walls, but something’s changed.

“Hoseok.” You breathe, you’re so sad.

He hums against your neck, avoiding your eyes.

“Kiss me.” You plead again, he kissed your neck so softly, balls smacking harder and faster against your ass. “No, my lips.”

“Goodnight, kitten.” He whispers sounding sad into your ear before he lifts his face from your neck and those heart-shaped lips touch your softly, it’s almost sweet. You come undone as soon as you feel the touch of his magical lips and you swear you feel him come deep inside you.

It all disappears though.

“Honey?” This time it's Namjoon, hand already around your waist. “You okay? Was it another nightmare?”

A tear falls down your face and Namjoon awes, bringing you into his warm embrace. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry.”

Why are you crying?

And where is Hoseok?

“I am too.” You simply say, crying harshly into his shoulder.

Hoseok watches the scene unfold from afar. He wishes you could feel the ache you’ve left him behind too and there isn’t a damn thing he could do but wait.

“See you in the after-life kitten. There I’ll spoil you with all the kisses you deserve.”

You don’t hear him, but he knows he means well. Hoseok walks away permanently this time, he’s lost the feeling of his heart long ago, but he feels heavy-hearted and continues on his way to his next victim.

Until next time.

#bts fanfic #bts smut #hoseok x reader #hoseok fanfic #hoseok smut #hoseok x y/n #hoseok scenarios #hoseok fic #hoseok angst #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #bts angst

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jujutsukatsuki · 2 years ago

Text

Ghostface!Bakugou! <3

This was a script I found through a porn audio and I just had to use it to write smut 💀💀💀 I did change some things so it’s not a copy paste but it follows the same formula!

18+ || Minors and Ageless blogs DNI

Warnings: Dubcon, ghostface kink, knife usage, blood, little bit of yandere!bakugou, voyeurism, phone sex, stalking

Blood curdling screams come from your tv as you watch Halloween. You hug the pillow that sits on your lap as you watch someone get killed. It was the night before Halloween.

The sudden ringing of the home phone your parents insisted on having startled you. You were currently house sitting for them while they took a vacation. A glance to the caller ID shows unknown. You choose to ignore it, thinking if it was important they’d call again or leave a voice mail.

Ring. Ring. You look. Still the same thing. You decide to answer it, thinking maybe it is actually important.

“Hello?” You hum into the phone. A deep gruff voice breathes down the line.

“Guess who.” Your blood runs cold. You had someone stalking you for the last few months. Leaving you random calls, notes at your door, flowers on your coffee table. In the last week, they had seemingly disappeared which you took as they finally got bored and left you alone.

“Aw did the pretty baby think I left her alone? That’s real cute. Miss me?”

You immediately hang up the phone and close your eyes, hoping that when you open them, this will be a dream.

The phone rings and you answer it again, knowing he won’t stop.

“Baby, that’s not very nice of you.”

“Leave me alone.” You can feel the tears brewing in your eyes.

“Those shorts you got on are cute, sweetheart. Looks real good on you.”

You look at the pajama shorts you have on. Your brain isn’t comprehending that he’s watching you. Fear is kicking in and nothing makes sense.

“W-what..” you swallow thickly as you shift uncomfortably on the couch.

“What do I want from you? I wanna talk to you for a bit.” His voice is calm, cool, collected. Everything you aren’t.

“I’m.. I’m gonna call the police. My boyfriend is pro hero.” Your voice shakes as the stalker laughs again. The pro hero boyfriend isn’t exactly a lie. You had been going on a couple dates with Dynamite, but you two weren’t boyfriend girlfriend level.

“Call’em. You know that they can’t trace my calls, princess.” He hums softly, you can hear the sinister grin in his voice.

“Saw you watching Halloween. Such a classic. Do you always like killers in white masks with big knives?” You swallow again as you realize he’s watching you. You just don’t know from where. The words get trapped in your throat as he exposes a secret kink of yours.

“Baby, talk. I want to hear your pretty voice.”

“Are.. are you going to kill me?” A tear falls down your cheek. He laughs again, this time in disbelief.

“Kill you? Aw princess, I’m not gonna kill you. I want to play with you.” You chew on your bottom lip as his voice takes a darker route as he speaks again.

“I know you watch those slasher moves cause you wanna be a whore and get fucked by them. Why don’t I come out and show you what’s it’s like to get fucked?”

You feel sick as your cunt clenches around nothing. Your stomach churns but youre not sure if it’s fear or being turned on. Maybe both.

“Can you handle me baby? Huh? Want my sharp knife to your neck?” Your thighs squeeze together as another tear falls, your teeth dig deeper into your bottom lip.

“You liked that! You sick fuck!” He laughs like a man gone mad. Your cheeks feel warm as he laughs as you, his laugh makes the tight feeling in your abdomen grow tighter.

“Did I make my baby girl blush? That’s cute.” He chuckles again.

“Hmm. I want you to take those pretty shorts off. Lemme see what’s under them.” You’re hesitant as your thumbs hook into your waistband, phone pinned between your shoulder and ear.

His tone turns to one of anger.

“Do it or I’ll come in there and gut you!” You let out a small whimper, you’re sure there’s a wet spot on your panties. You take your shorts off and kick them somewhere. He hums softly with approval.

“Now, spread your legs, show me how wet you are.”

You do as he asks, panties are sticking to you with how wet you are. You can hear his breathing catch in his throat as he sees how the white of your panties has turned slightly see through.

“Good girl. God, you’re soaked, aren't ya? Is that all for me?” You nod along with his words, waiting for his next command.

“Say it.” He grins

“I’m so wet for you daddy.” You whisper into the receiver.

“Now get rid of that shirt. I know you don't have on a bra underneath.” You set the phone down with it on speaker and pull your shirt off, nipples getting hard from the cold air.

“So pretty. Now, rub that pretty clit for me. Over your panties.”

You listen to his orders and whine as you put a bit of pressure against your clit through your wet panties. With slow movements you start to rub tight circles.

“God. Gonna make me come out and wrap my hand around your throat.” You let out a moan at his words, free hand brushing against your throat.

“Oh you liked that? Fuck, you really are a freak.” He laughs, you buck your hips against your fingers as his laugh sends a jolt to your cunt.

There’s a sound of rustling on the other end before you hear it. His deep, gravely moan as his hand is wrapped around his cock. Tip leaking pre cum as his gloved hand glides up and down his cock.

He chokes back a moan and talks with a clenched jaw.

“I can't wait to fill you up with my cock. I'm gonna rearrange your guts. Is that what you want, you little slut?” You nod and whimper as you speed up your movements on your clit.

“I knew you would. Shove those panties aside. I wanna see that pussy. Don't stop rubbing yourself.”

You push your panties to the side, cold air against your pussy that’s sticky with arousal. You start to rub your clit again, whining and bucking your hips into your hand.

“Are ya close, sweetheart?” His voice is taunting, you can hear the sinister grin again.

“Y-yes!” You whimper. His laughs and for a moment you’re confused.

“I'm close too. But not in the way you think. Hang up and turn around.” He hangs up on you, you suddenly feel it. The ominous presence behind you. Your breath gets stuck in your throat as you slowly turn behind you, eyes gliding up the dark robe before you see the white screaming ghost mask behind you.

“Boo!” He laughs, his voice is slightly muffled through the fabric of the mask, but he sounds the same in person as he did moments ago on the house phone.

The silver knife catches your eye as he pulls it out. He presses it to your collarbone. You can feel the blade press into your skin.

He leans down and whispers in your ear

“Don't move. You wouldn't want to slip and get cut, would you?” You shake your head, slowly rubbing your clit

“Are you scared?” You nod

“Do you like being scared?” You hesitantly nod, cheeks turning pink. His free hand slides down your body, ghosting over your nipples and then your stomach before he’s rubbing your clit for you.

“How about when I rub your pussy while my knife is pressed into you?”

He can hear the gulp as you swallow and nod. You gasp and whine as the knife pricks your skin.

“Aw, am I hurting you, pretty girl? Your blood looks so nice, I just can't help myself.” He chuckles as he mocks you, you can’t help how wet you are at this point.

“I think you need a matching one right here on your other collarbone. What do you think?” He switches the blade to his other hand and uses the other to rub your clit. The black glove feels cold against your cunt.

You still haven’t answered his question. He gets annoyed and smacks your pussy causing you to yelp and let a few tears loose.

“Look at that blood running down your tits. That's perfect. Don't move. Smile for me.” He hums as the blood reaches the valley between your tits. The knife gets set next to you on the couch as he holds out a camera and takes photos of you.

“Bend over the couch.” He orders and pulls back from you. You move quickly to bend over the arm of the couch.

“Good girl. I got somethin for ya.” He pulls out his cock and let’s it rest against your ass. He’s huge. The idea of him stretching you out is driving you crazy, your pussy is dripping. He smears pre cum on your skin, making you sticky.

“Do you think you can take all of this in that tight little pussy?” You whimper and nod as you wiggle your hips. He drags his cock over your ass and down to your clit before going back up to your cunt.

“What was that? You want me to fuck you?” He pushes the tip of his cock in before pulling it out.

“Beg for it.” He grins from behind the mask as you’re dumb with horniness and he hasn’t even put his cock in you.

You beg him and whine for his cock. He teases you a few more times before he lines up his cock and slams into you in one fluid motion. The grunt that leaves his mouth makes you want to cum already.

The smugness in his tone is evident as he pulls out to just the tip before slamming his his back into your ass

“Look at that, I fit all the way in.” You moan and claw at the couch as he starts to thrust in and out of you.

Yeah, you like that, baby? Tell me you like it. Tell me you like being fucked by your stalker. I wanna hear it. Tell me you don’t want anyone else’s cock, ever!” He grabs your hair in his free hand and pulls your back to his chest.

You do try and tell him what he wants to hear but you’re so fucked out already, everything blurs together.

“You're such a whore. Taking my cock so good.” He looks down to the creamy white ring that’s forming at the base of his cock.

“You gonna cum, doll?” You nod as tears fall down your face.

“Huh? I asked you a question!” He wraps his hand tight around your neck, you can feel the airflow cut off and make your brain dizzy.

“Scream, you little slut!” He scolds, you scream as you squirt all over his cock and sob. His hips stutter as he holds your hips down on his cock. A gasp leaves your mouth as you’re now full of his cum.

“Damn, that really did it for you, huh? You're a dirty girl for cumming from being choked half to death.” He chuckles and pulls out. You whimper as some cum is leaking out. He grabs his camera and takes a photo before taking another one of him shoving his gloved fingers into you to shove his cum in you.

You slowly turn to face him before reaching for the mask. He grabs your wrist before he lets go. You take it off revealing Katsuki. You smile as the scene is completed now. You stroke his cheek gently, bits of his blonde hair is matted to his forehead

“You okay princess?” He asks as he kisses your palm. You nod.

This took about a week of planning. After your third date with katsuki, you told him about the little ghost face fantasy you had and let him do what he wanted.

“Did so good. Can’t believe you let me breed you.” He hummed and put a hand on your stomach.

“Wanna shower.” You yawn softly.

“Okay babe.” He picks you up and carried you to the shower.

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god-o-bees · 22 days ago

Text

Bloodsucker

Vampire Nikto

Happy Halloween!!!

Nikto x Reader

Gender neutral, Reader's bits are not specified.

Warning for NonCon.

Two weeks in a safe house in rural Siberia didn't seem so bad on paper. You had all the supplies you could need, a nice remote location away from any danger, and a lovely view of a small lake to wake up to every morning.

The cabin was cozy, clearly built for only one guest at a time. It was heated with wood burning furnace, which you kept fueled with firewood someone had helpfully collected beforehand. There was canned food and medical supplies in the cabinets, and even some old fishing gear in storage, next to all the assault rifles and packs of ammunition. The radio dish only needed occasional cleaning to keep working, and you only received signal every now and then. You didn't mind the silence, though. In fact, this short trip might even be a peaceful break from your routine back at base.

Within the first few days you could tell something was wrong. You woke up cold, no matter how many blankets you added to your bed and no matter how many logs you added to the furnace. You started to feel dizzy too, often having to pause what you were doing to sit down and have a few cups of water. You probably didn't look so healthy either, but there weren't any mirrors in the cabin, so you had no idea.

You began to have strange dreams- cold hands on your thighs, on your waist, up to your neck- whispers in your ears and nails digging into your flesh.

"Beautiful... all alone..."

You toss and turn in your sleep as the sensations start to feel too real.

"We are so hungry... and you have so much to give."

A sharp painful sting plunges into your neck, and you wake up the next morning sore and tired.

That day, you look for some painkillers in the cabinet to no avail.

The next nights aren't much better.

"Sweet thing... just a bit more..." The voice is louder this time, and you can detect a Russian accent in his words.

This time the other side of your neck is punctured- bitten, he's biting you. You can feel his warm breath on your neck as he sinks his teeth deeper. The ache turns from ice cold to red hot, and you groan and protest as your body gets weaker and weaker.

"Don't struggle..."

A hand travels down your chest, past your stomach, to your inner thigh-

You wake up in a cold sweat. It seems that you aren't just sick, you're also pent up.

That evening, after completing all your daily tasks, eating your favorite canned soup from the small collection in the kitchen, adding a few more logs to the fire and getting into bed, you decide to ease some of the tension from last night.

The only light in the room is from the oil lamp on the bedside table, bathing the space in a soft orange glow- it's soothing, you think.

When's the last time you even did this? Too long, apparently, because your hands are clumsy and awkward as they feel up your body.

You're supposed to imagine someone else, right? You didn't seem to have any trouble with it last night- the deep, gravelly voice of an you're sure you've never met saying strange things, touching you with cold hands, and leaving in a flash.

You close your eyes, letting instinct control your motions. Slow rubbing, massaging, and stroking, up and down, like waves crashing on a beach. It's not as good as you had hoped, but it's something.

"Fuck..."

A thumping sound jolts you from your short lived moment of pleasure.

It's not the noise a fox or squirrel would make. It was a loud bang against the front wall of the cabin- a small bear, maybe?

You quickly retrieve your pants and a tank top and grab a loaded rifle from the storage unit before readying yourself to open the door.

The instant you do, and rush of cold air momentarily distracts you- just enough time for a pair of strong arms to reach from behind and grapple you, squeezing the air from your lungs. The gun falls to the floor with a clatter as the door swiftly shuts closed.

"Our little soldier... you have no idea how much you tease us..." He growls under his breath.

The voice. The voice from your dreams. He was real.

He loosens his grip on your ribcage slightly, letting you breathe again.

"Now, let us finish what you started."

With inhuman ease, he carries you to the bed and pins you down. You finally get to see the man haunting your dreams, the man who's been watching you for who knows how long.

His face is scarred and disfigured, cuts and chemical burns painting his skin. His black hair is patchy is some places- more scar tissue, you notice- and is cut short everywhere else. His eyes are beautiful, a cold crystal blue that freezes you in place.

He wears a large black coat, making him look bigger than he actually is- and he's still very big.

He unbuttons it, letting it fall to the ground. His muscles stretch the fabric of his white dress shirt. He looks like he just came back from a dinner party.

"You must be so confused. You are wondering who we are, why we have been watching you, yes?" He caresses your cheek with his thumb as he speaks in an ineffective attempt to soothe you, especially considering the permanent scowl carved into his face.

"You were our dinner for the last few nights. You have the most delicious blood, you know that? It's addictive." He lifts your wrist up to his mouth and kisses it.

You struggle against him, but he keeps you pinned to the mattress like an insect, small and pitiful compared to him.

"You look so beautiful while you slept... I had to know if you were delicious in other places as well."

His tongue pokes out from between two long canines to lick over your veins. The teeth from your nightmares.

"What- what are you?" Your voice is shakier than you expected, betraying how utterly terrified you are.

"Your lover," He responds simply, and bites down onto your wrist.

You cry out in pain as he laps up the blood, his lips slowly stained with red as he devours his meal.

You try to fight back, but his strength combined with the fatigue of the last few nights had you collapsing back onto the bed.

After seemingly having his fill, he lets go of your wrist and begins to slip off his own pants.

"You are going to love this, малыш... you will be mine, I will take care of you- you will be my little pet, never leaving my side." He yanks your pants down next, groping at your tender flesh with greedy hands.

He bends down to leave hickeys up and down your neck as his fingers work to gather up a mixture of blood and spit to lube your hole, but it's not very effective. Despite that, he still spreads your legs and positions himself between them, giving you a glimpse of his cock.

God, what a sight it is. It's got plenty of length to it, but what's more impressive is it's girth. Could you even fit that? It's not as if he's giving you much of a choice. He's already wetting his head with precum and nudging it against your tight opening.

You groan as it stretches you, bullying it's way into your gut. The pain has you seeing stars and desperately clawing at his skin.

"Relax- relax, you can take me." He moves his lips from your neck to your chest, nipping at your skin with a fierce hunger.

A short whine escapes you when he bottoms out, sinking himself inside you like he was made to be there.

"Ah- there, look. You fit me so nicely." He whispers into your ear. "I will try to be gentle for you. You're such a sweet thing, after all." You can only moan softly in response.

He grunts when he starts to pull out, his pulsating length rubbing against every inch of your walls, before thrusting back in.

"Nng- fuck, ah-!" You can't form other words, too lost in how bad it hurts and how good it's starting to feel.

It's sickening how lovingly he cradles you, whispering praise and promises in your ear. He said he'd be gentle, and you can tell he's barely holding back. Every thrust is just a bit too calculated, every movement is restrained to make sure you don't break.

Your hands find the collar of his shirt and tug him down to meet you.

"Please- more- I can take it, please-" You gasp into his chest. His grip on you gets tighter, like he's seconds away from giving in.

"You think you can handle it? You are so fragiIe compared to me, I don't want you breaking." He growls. You nod vigorously, the only thing you can focus on is the feeling of him inside you, reaching places no one else has been to, making you feel things you've never felt before.

He pounds into you hard, like he was built to slam you onto his cock, like he needed it to live. You, on the other hand, almost regret asking for more. Your body just wasn't made to take something so thick, and you weren't given enough time to adjust. It's so mind-numbingly good, though, so euphoric, you don't even mind the ache.

You don't even realize you're crying until he starts licking up your tears, back to cooing and comforting you as he picks up the pace. You can feel the tense coil of pleasure in your core tighten, and evidently he feels it too.

"So good- release onto me, it's alright. My sweet little thing, so happy on my cock-" He groans into your ear, and suddenly his hands have started stroking right there, and he's pounding into your sweet spot, harder, harder-

You whimper pitifully as you orgasm, and your whole body is shaking in his grasp. He's still going, desperately thrusting into you, all speech lost to the animalistic frenzy of the moment. His teeth penetrate your skin one more time, and as you feel his hips stutter and a warmth shoot deep inside your body, you also feel a tingling from the fresher wound. Before you can even think, your vision goes black and you lose consciousness.

○~○♡○~○♡○~○♡○~○

His little soldier had cum so hard they passed out. It was adorable, everything about them was, really. Nikto felt like the luckiest man alive- well, undead. As he bundled you up in his coat, ready to whisk you back to his manor, he couldn't help but stare at your peaceful face. He couldn't wait to bring you home... his little pet indeed.

Hey! This was my first time writing an actual sex scene. Hope it was good!

Masterlist

#cod nikto #nikto cod #nikto x reader #nikto

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 10 months ago

Note

Hiiiiiii

If it’s not too much trouble, could you do a platonic team star x team star member!reader who became a dragon type specialist squad leader and joined because they got bullied for being a fan of other famous dragon type users like Lance and Raihan?

(Sorry if this is too specific)

Oh no worries, I like specific so it's all good!

..........

"I'm gonna be just like them one day.." Sighing dreamily, you sat down at the cafeteria table, watching a video on your rotomphone while chowing down breakfast.

It was footage of a fierce Pokémon battle in Galar--a showdown between two of your idols, who were among the most famous dragon trainers of all time: Lance and Raihan.

Of course, you looked up to many other dragon type users in Paldea, but these two in particular kickstarted your dreams of becoming one yourself, inspired by their interviews and fierce determination.

You also hoped to meet them and have a battle, although that was a little too farfetched for you right now..

Yet you didn't let that discourage you from forming your own dragon team, using your studies at Uva/Naranja Academy to teach them all the best moves and remember type matchups.

Tatsugiri was your main partner, and when combined with your Dondozo..it was an absolute powerhouse in double-battles--albeit this academy usually focused on the traditional single battles.

You were also currently raising a Drakalok, Cyclizar, Arctibax, and Sliggoo, and you cherished all of them dearly. Tatsugiri was a bit of an attention hog at times, though, and always wanted to stay out of its ball and on your shoulder.

You didn't mind it, of course. Whether you're heading to class or to a tournament where dragon trainers were going to participate, you always went together.

Life was perfect.

Except for-

"Still prattling on about being the next famous dragon gym leader, huh?"

-one of your bullies already ruining your day before it could even begin.

For some reason..a few kids at the academy really had it out for you simply because you admired famous dragon trainers. You didn't think there was anything wrong with looking up to your idols. But apparently they thought you were being too "obnoxious" about it and sought to make your life utterly miserable.

It only got worse when you spoke up about it to a teacher, as that bully got off with nothing but a slap on the wrist--that being to train their Pokémon as "punishment".

By sheer convenience, they had ice and fairy types. And that teacher only gave them the chance to make their team stronger and further intimidate you...to the point where you're afraid to go outside, fearing they'll drag you into a battle.

You've kept silent since, hoping to avoid them at all costs and try to keep your grades up. But unfortunately, Arceus wasn't smiling upon you today...and quite frankly, you were tired.

Huffing, you switched off your phone and scowled up at the bully. "Still following me around campus, huh?" You mocked, with Tatsugiri hopping on the table and mimicking your expression. "That's kinda creepy if you ask me."

"Well those stupid fangs of yours are creeping everyone out." They sneered, pointing out your sharp teeth. "Halloween is over, y'know."

"I've already told you..these are canines, and they are real."

"Yeah? More like real freaky."

"Look, just leave me alone before you anger Tatsugiri." You warned, watching as their gaze shifted to your ace, falling silent for a moment or two...

Before erupting into laughter. "Oh wow, I'm soooooo scared of your stupid sushi roll! What ever will I do??" They shook their head. "If you want my advice, dump this thing and get yourself a real dragon. Like a Charizard or-"

"You don't get to decide WHO I can have as a partner!!!" Your hands slammed onto the table as you stood up, fists clenched with anger. Even though you could see people's heads turning in your peripheral vision, you didn't care. "Tatsugiri may not look it, but it's more powerful than you'll ever know! You don't know our bond, so just back off already!!"

"Oooooh, I didn't know you knew Outrage..better not hit yourself in confusion." They snickered.

"...why are you like this?" With slumped shoulders, you frowned at them. "Why do you keep tormenting me day after day?! I've done nothing to you. Is it a crime to admire my heroes? To wanna be like them?"

"No, but you'd be an embarrassment to every future dragon tamer. I mean who'd wanna see a pathetic thing like that in the Elite Four? Or on a Champion's team? Raihan and Lance would laugh in your face and crush you if they saw-"

"STOP IT!!" You finally snapped, hitting the table again before taking out one of your pokeballs. "Do you want a battle?! Is that what you want?!! Then you'll get it-!!"

"[Y/n], what is the meaning of this?"

Hearing the voice of the director made all the color drain from your face. The bully just smirked as you slowly turned to Harrington, seeing him looking at you with a frown.

"This is the second disturbance you've caused in this same area. You know battles aren't permitted inside the academy."

It's only then did you realize everybody in the cafeteria was staring..and you shrunk back in embarrassment. "I-I'm sorry, Director. I didn't mean to shout. They were just-"

But when you tried to point out the bully, they were gone.

How convenient.

"From how it looks..you were intimidating them. And you should also know we have a zero tolerance policy for such behavior."

"But I wasn't..they-!" You tried in vain to defend yourself, yet the look on Harrington's face told you he didn't wanna hear any of it.

"We can discuss this further in my office. Return your Tatsugiri to its pokeball and follow me, if you will."

"....yes, sir." Defeated, you gathered your things and put Tatsugiri back into the pokeball (much to its dismay), before commencing the long walk of shame to the director's office.

Maybe he will believe you.

.......

"He didn't believe me either. What's the point of "standing up for myself" if I'm just gonna get in trouble?! What's the point if they're always gonna get away with it while I face suspension?!"

"Suu.."

"I know I kinda let myself go back there, but...th-they kept pushing me and pushing me! Why couldn't he understand that? Why doesn't anyone here understand-?!"

"Tasu!"

Calming yourself down a little, you looked to Tatsugiri, who sat on your bed and looked up at you with sad eyes, wishing you weren't being so harsh on yourself.

"....well, I know you understand me, buddy." You quietly sighed and sat down, bringing it into your hands as it nuzzled your cheek. Immediately your shoulders relaxed. "I'm sorry. Thank you. I'm just...it's been frustrating. But I swear I'll never replace you for any other dragon. Not even for a shiny Charizard."

"Yip-yip?!" It cried out.

"Believe me! I won't." You chuckled, although you stopped as you thought over this morning's events...

And suddenly you felt sick to your stomach.

Just thinking about going to your afternoon class today made you feel ill, wondering who was going to harass you two next...and if you'll be able to do anything about it without getting into trouble with the director.

Now that you've gotten your second strike, you had to be careful not to lash out like that again.

But what else were you supposed to do?

Let them continue to bully you around and make your poor partner feel absolutely worthless? How was that fair to either of you?

At this point, you've ran out of adults in this academy to talk to...besides the nurse, of course, although she seemed more adept at healing Pokémon than counseling students.

Even if she was willing to listen, you doubt anything would change.

Nobody here took your side or could possibly understand what you were going through-

"Roto-to-to~"

Your rotomphone started ringing, displaying an unknown caller ID. Normally you'd ignore it, although Tatsugiri had a better idea and decided to slap the screen with its fin, answering it.

"Tatsu!" You grumbled, pulling it away from your phone before addressing the stranger, feeling embarrassed. "Sorry! My Pokémon-"

"Greetings, am I speaking to [y/n]?"

".....uh...yeah?" Your eyebrows furrowed with confusion, not expecting to hear a distorted voice on the other end of the line. "And who am I speaking to exactly?"

"My name is Cassiopeia. Leader of Team Star."

"Team Star?" You blinked, remembering all of the rumors you've heard about this organization. They were a small group of kids who got bad grades, skipped school often...and sometimes harassed others into joining them or pulled pranks on teachers.

Why would their leader contact you?

Or better yet...how did they even get ahold of your number?

"Correct. We've been watching you for some time, and we see your pain. It must feel awful...being pushed around and intimidated all because you admire some famous trainers. And when you finally have the courage to defend yourself and your Pokémon...suddenly you're the bad guy? It's so unfair."

"How do you.....l-look, um..Cassiopeia. I got a lot going on right now." You mumbled, hoping to end this conversation quickly. "I'm facing suspension if I cause one more scene, so I don't think I should be talking to delinquents like-"

"That is a lie. Team Star isn't a group of delinquents. We're so much more than that." They interrupted you, sounding a bit annoyed. "The truth is that WE are the victims. We who were shamed and excluded for the crime of being ourselves. The system has failed us, [y/n], and we formed this group as a way to stand up and stand out."

"...ah, I see." Now you were growing a bit more understanding and sympathetic towards them. You always had a feeling that your classmates overexaggerated how "evil" this team really was, making comparisons to Team Rocket and organizations that were legitimately evil and criminal.

But obviously, you never put your two cents in. You were already getting bullied enough just for saying Lance and Raihan are cool dragon trainers you wished to meet.

You were already getting bullied enough just for admiring some famous dragon trainers.

"So...obviously you're trying to sell me something." You huffed, kicking your feet up on the desk. "You want me to join your team as one of your goons-?"

"Oh no. I actually have something much better in mind." Cassiopeia cut in once more. "We've seen how you battle with dragon types. Very impressive, I must say. You never back down from a challenge. You're fierce, protective..and you demonstrate incredible leadership."

That felt flattering to hear, considering all the times you've gotten criticized for your battling techniques during Ms. Dendra's class.

Recently, she actually made you apologize to your classmate, whose Pokémon was actively bullying yours and provoked it into using a powerful move that knocked it out in one hit.

Why was that such a problem?

Because you weren't supposed to be battling, but the bully kept pushing you into one--and of course, Ms. Dendra didn't see that part.

Only the part where you broke the "No-OHKO" rule she had written into her lesson plan for that day.

Now you were struggling to get your grades back up in battle strategies, which was hard since you gained a reputation as being "too aggressive"..when in reality you were just so afraid and fed up that no one would listen to you.

So hearing this complete stranger give you praise felt genuinely good.

"Oh! Ah...thank you." You decided to bite the bullet. "So what's your offer?"

"We believe you're a good fit to be a squad leader. We have one more slot available. Interested?"

Your heart immediately jumped at the opportunity, although part of you was still holding back.....wondering if it was worth getting mixed-up with people like Cassiopeia and Team Star's revered leaders.

This could very well throw away your entire future and your goals of becoming the next dragon type gym leader. You could be expelled for sure, or even blacklisted from partaking in tournaments.

But at the same time, you were so tired of living in fear and dealing with all of this alone.

Why should you have to? That's setting a terrible example for your Pokémon--they shouldn't have to see their trainer living like that. You had to be brave and stronger, but that was almost impossible if you were just going to suffer repercussions for trying.

Cassiopeia took your silence as hesitation. "I know this is a lot to think about. But trust me, [y/n]. Team Star can do more for you than the Academy ever did. You'll get to train without limits. Your name will be known by all, and nobody will mock you or Tatsugiri ever again. That is what you want, isn't it? To grow stronger together? To stand up against those who wronged you?"

Hearing them mention your partner made you look to the Mimicry Pokemon in your lap. Seeing the way they put their fin on your hand and gave you a small nod ultimately solidified your answer.

You weren't turning back now.

"We can discuss this tomorrow if you'd like-"

"No, I made up my mind. I'll take it. When do I start?"

..........

"Looking sharp as always, Revavroom."

With a sharp-toothed grin, you gently patted the head of your Starmobile--specifically the Revavroom attached to it, as it rumbled in happiness.

Then you hopped onto the vehicle, climbing up to the stage where you could survey the rest of your camp, observing your goons hanging out by the vending machines and driving around on their Cyclizars.

This was the Achird Squad base stationed at Casseroya Lake, and for about a year or so...you've also called it home.

The location was perfect for a mighty dragon leader such as yourself, allowing you to keep watch over the Tatsugiri and Dratini herds you'd see in the waters from time to time.

It was far better than the cramped dorms of the Academy. They would never have let your dragons roam free like Dragapult, Baxcalibur, and all the rest were doing right now..

Ever since joining Team Star, you never looked back and never regretted your decision. You became fast friends with the other bosses, with Atticus even designing some cool armor plates for your outfit that resembled a Kommo-o's scales.

Although things have been...rather weird as of late.

Especially since it was the anniversary of the incident.

Back at the Academy, you and all of the leaders came together with the ultimate to confront your bullies once and for all. It was meant to finally settle who was the strongest, and how you were sick of being pushed around.

Least to say..the tables have turned, and everyone knew your names.

The bullies ended up running scared, barely putting up a fight themselves before scrambling to heal and recall their Pokémon.

You felt pretty good about it, especially when you knocked out that jerk who made fun of your teeth and admiration for dragon trainers in one fell swoop.

But then you looked around and saw everyone's scared faces. Many were recording the battles, spreading them all over social media, or shielding their own Pokémon from potential harm--even though you never intended to hurt them whatsoever.

It turned into a huge scandal over who was in the right or wrong, although in the end your bullies played the victims, dropped out of school, and ended up being listened to the most.

They made you out to be monsters who just attacked them for no reason..and it almost got you all expelled.

However, Cassiopeia took the blame, and while you were pardoned, Harrington, the deputy director (who tried erasing all records of the scandal and bullying to "preserve" the Academy's image), and many teachers left, guilty that they didn't do more to prevent this.

It would have been a bittersweet victory for Team Star---had your leader not also vanished, their last message being a call for the organization to disband.

To this day, none of you understood why they'd do that...or why they think you'd ever wanna leave this team and go back to your studies.

How could you after the faculty messed up this badly?

How could you after they still sided with the bullies?

How could you after they tried to cover up what really happened?

In the end, you all promised to stick together, abiding by your codes and living out on the squad bases. You occasionally met up for discussions and battle plans, although you always held onto hope that if the team kept going long enough....Cassiopeia might come back.

You've tried contacting them through various means, yet none of your Rotoms could retrace their calls nor social media posts. Everything was gone.

As though they wanted you all to forget ever meeting them..

It never made sense to you, considering you could really use a leader back then.

But what's done is done, and you winded up assuming a de factor leader position, given your team was the strongest out of all of theirs. Of course, Ortega was less-than-pleased about holding a vote on it, but you won the majority and he eventually got over it.

Now you've been training your Pokémon more frequently, and only because there's something called "Operation: Starfall" going around--and apparently some Paldean trainer was going around tackling each base with the hope of claiming their badges.

One of the codes was that being defeated in battle meant surrendering it, and that means...

Someone was dead set on shutting down Team Star for good.

But you wouldn't let them. The other bosses were your friends, family..and you'll be damned if you lost them, too.

"Boss! The others are comin' in!" You heard one of the grunts shout, and you looked towards the horizon in surprise.

She wasn't kidding.

Ortega, Mela, Eri, Giacomo, and Atticus were at your base's entrance, waiting for you. Although you were eager to see them after being occupied with training for so long...it didn't concern you that all of them chose to show up at once.

But you refused to show any sort of alarm, huffing as you jumped off the stage, mounting your partner Cyclizar. "Let's ride!" You barked, allowing it to sprint towards the group at full speed.

Your cape fluttered in the wind as it leaped across a small stream, all while Tatsugiri--who was resting in a small basket attached to it--held on for dear life.

Upon arriving, the bosses stopped their chatter and turned as you slowed down, stepping off Cyclizar. You gave it a small pat on the head, assuring that it could rest, before looking at the group.

"So we meet again...what's with the sour faces?" Your eyebrows furrowed at their expressions. When nobody was immediately speaking up, you huffed. "Come on, out with it. You can't come all this way to my base just assume I can read your minds-"

"We come before thee bearing..a warning." Atticus muttered, bowing his head in shame. "The student you've spoken of hath proven to be quite the adversary."

"Is that so? Surely they haven't claimed all of your badges, have they?"

"........"

"Why is no one talking-?"

"Because we got our asses handed to us." Mela bluntly stated, clenching her fists. "We got absolutely smoked...and now you're the only one left."

Your eyes widened in shock and horror, although you didn't get the chance to respond as Ortega cut you off.

"Now before you freak out on us all..we did try our best. We did everything you and Cassiopeia taught us. But this kid....they're good. Almost too good. And this guy named Clive was helping them out the whole time, getting under our skin and everything...."

"Well I wouldn't say that." Eri looked at the fairy trainer, crossing her arms over her chest as she frowned. "He wanted to know where we're coming from and why we're doing all of this."

"...and you just told him?"

You could see everyone tense up, and you just scowled, wondering why they would do this.

"What makes you all think he would care...or why anybody from that academy would care about us now?" Your eyebrows furrowed as Tatsugiri sat on your shoulder, mimicking your expression. "Nobody cared when they hurt us...nobody cared when we were literally begging for help. Look, I know keeping this group together was hard, but it's no excuse to-"

"Honestly...I'm kinda tired of this charade. At least someone's willin' to listen to us now.." Giacomo remarked, frowning a little bit. "But here's the lowdown, [y/n]: we got beaten into the dirt and followed our code, so now we're here to give ya a little heads up before this kid comes after you next. We're sorry. But we tried."

"And we still don't know who's really behind this sting operation.." Mela grumbled, shaking her head in worry. "Someone wants to shut us down for good, and it's definitely not either of those new students. They're just being used to carry out the dirty work."

"I might have a good idea on who it is...and I swear, they'll answer for this." You bared your teeth. "But I'll save my dragon rage for this trainer. Wherever they are, whatever they're doing...I hope they know I'm ready. Because I'm gonna defend Team Star...defend us....until my last breath."

"Su! Su!!" Tatsugiri trilled in agreement, nuzzling your cheek, to which you couldn't help but smile a little bit.

"Well whatever happens next, you have our full support, [y/n]." Eri smiled as she patted your shoulder. "Badge or no badge, we stand behind you."

Everyone else chimed in with agreements, smiles on all of their faces as well--although Atticus' wasn't immediately noticeable, you could see it in his eyes.

Knowing this group still cared about you and believed in your battling skills made all the tension leave your shoulders.

"Thank you, my friends. Hasta la vistar ~☆"

""""Hasta la vistar, and good luck, [y/n]!! ~☆""""

#clanask #anonymous #pokemon x reader #pokemon sv x reader #pokemon scarlet x reader #pokemon violet x reader #team star #team star x reader #platonic #pokemon cassiopeia #pokemon mela #pokemon ortega #pokemon eri #pokemon giacomo #pokemon atticus

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broadway-stuck · 22 days ago

Text

Hallows eve is upon us yet again. Tradition dictates a performance on this sacred night. And so, we sing. Lyrics and credits under the read-more

[EVERYONE]

Boys and girls of every age

Wouldn't you like to see something strange?

Come with us and you will see

This, our town of Halloween

[ARADIA, FEFERI, KANAYA]

This is Halloween, this is Halloween

Pumpkins scream in the dead of night

This is Halloween, everybody make a scene

Trick or treat 'til the neighbors gonna die of fright

It's our town, everybody scream

In this town of Halloween

[SOLLUX]

I am the one hiding under your bed

Teeth ground sharp and eyes glowing red

[FEFERI]

I am the one hiding under your stairs

Fingers like snakes and spiders in my hair

[EVERYONE] This is Halloween, this is Halloween

Halloween! Halloween! Halloween! Halloween!

[KANAYA, KARKAT, VRISKA]

In this town, we call home

Everyone, hail to the pumpkin song

[KANAYA]

In this town, don't we love it now?

Everybody's waiting for the next surprise

[NEPETA, ARADIA, KARKAT]

Round that corner bend, hiding in the trash can

Something's waiting now to pounce, and how you'll

[KARKAT]

Scream!

[JADE]

This is Halloween

[KARKAT]

Red and black

[EQUIUS]

And slimy green

[JADE]

Aren't you scared?

[JADE, FEFERI, ROXY]

Well, that's just fine!

Say it once, say it twice

Take a chance and roll the dice

Ride with the moon in the dead of night

[DAVE]

Everybody scream, everybody scream

[DIRK, SOLLUX, KARKAT]

In our town of Halloween!

[KARKAT]

I am the clown with the tear-away face

Here in a flash and gone without a trace

[ARADIA]

I am the “who” when you call, “Who's there?”

[VRISKA]

I am the wind blowing through your hair

[ROXY]

I am the shadow on the moon at night

Filling your dreams to the brim with fright

[EVERYONE]

This is Halloween, this is Halloween

Halloween! Halloween! Halloween! Halloween!

[JADE, FEFERI, ROXY]

Halloween! Halloween!

[KANAYA, DAVE, JADE]

Tender lumplings everywhere

Life's no fun without a good scare

[DIRK, ROXY]

That's our job, but we're not mean

In our town of Halloween

[EVERYONE]

In this town

[KANAYA]

Don't we love it now? [EVERYONE]

Everyone's waiting for the next surprise

[ARADIA]

Skeleton Jack might catch you in the back

[KARKAT]

And scream like a banshee Make you jump [EVERYONE] Out of your skin

[ARADIA, FEFERI, KANAYA,]

This is Halloween, everybody scream

[DIRK, DAVE, SOLLUX]

Won't ya please make way for a very special guy?

[NEPETA, ARADIA]

Our man Jack is king of the pumpkin patch

Everyone, hail to the Pumpkin King now!

[EVERYONE]

This is Halloween, this is Halloween

Halloween! Halloween! Halloween! Halloween!

[JADE, DAVE, KANAYA]

In this town we call home

Everyone, hail to the pumpkin song

[EVERYONE]

La-la-la, la-la-la (La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la, Halloween! Halloween!)

La-la, la-la-la (La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la, Halloween! Halloween!)

La-la-la, hey! (La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la)

Special thanks to;

@june-egbert-413 (aka gagrealTheatre) for the artwork! @lyricalkarkat for helping dividing lyrics! @broadway-calliope for the extra assistance!

Performers: @broadwayy-karkat @broadway-aradia @broadway-vriska @broadwayy-kanaya @broadway-nepeta @broadway-feferi @broadway-equius @broadway-sollux @broadway-jade @broadway-dave @broadway-roxy @broadway-dirk

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holylulusworld · 1 year ago

Text

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

Like in 2019, 2020, 2021 & 2022, I will post a kinky, fluffy, angsty or scary one-shot from October 1st till October 31st, 2023.

Please consider none of the stories are available until the set release date. Titles may change (all titles are working titles until the release date.). The release date may change at any time.

ANGST/SMUT/FLUFF

October 1st: Forbidden Lust (2) sequel to Forbidden Lust

Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Kink: Homewrecker kink

Requested by: @jayyyyyyy-stuff

October 2nd: Rekindle

Pairing: Chubby!Thor Odinson x Exgirlfriend!Reader

Trope: Reunion

October 3rd: Very tight places sequel to Cramped & Tight places

Pairing: Soulless!Sam x fem!Reader

Kink: Claustrophilia

October 4th: Footloose

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader

Trope: Enemies to lovers

October 5th: Serve your Soldier

Pairing: Soldier Boy x fem!Reader

Kink: Collars

October 6th: Falling leaves

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Trope: Sunny vs grumpy

October 7th: Blaze of glory

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Kink: Glad-to-Be-Alive Sex/Victory sex

October 8th: Two Bikes (1)

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader; Biker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Trope: Angst

October 9th: Golden Retriever

Pairing: Jake Jensen x Reader

Kink: Crops / Spanking

Idea by: anon

October 10th: One autumn night

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Trope: a/b/o

Idea by: anon

October 11th: I'm the best

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Kink: Breeding kink

Idea by: anon

October 12th: Breathless sequel to Take my breath away

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Trope: Secret crush

October 13th: One Summer night

Pairing: Cultleader!Thor Odinson

Kink: Sex Cult

October 14th: Snuggle time

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Plussized!Reader

Trope: Cuddling & snuggling

Idea by: anon

October 15th: The cabin in the woods

Pairing: Winter Soldier x fem!Reader

Kink/Trope: Choking

October 16th: Not in my car

Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Love confessions

Requested by: @dawn-petrichor-world

October 17th: Backpack

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader

Kink: Thigh riding

Idea by: @dawn-petrichor-world

October 18th: Sex you up

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Chubby!Reader

Kink: Size kink

Idea by: @sultryfandoms

October 19th: Fulfilment

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Pregnancy

Idea by: @elle14-blog1

October 20th: Triad (1)

Pairing: Omega!Stucky x Alpha!Reader

Kink: Dom / Sub

Idea by: anon

October 21st: Autumnal love

Pairing: Thor Odinson x fem!Reader

Trope: Carving pumpkins

Idea by: anon

October 22nd: Unwanted Mate (Bucky's version)

Pairing: Alpha!Stucky x Omega!Reader

Kink: Threesome

October 23rd: Rescue you

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader

Trope: Rescue romance

Idea by: @dawn-petrichor-world

October 24th: Right there

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Kink: Pegging

Idea by: @flory-alexandra

October 25th: Deepest love

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Friends to lovers

Idea by: @elle14-blog1

October 26th: Demon knife

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Friends to enemies

October 27th: Sunrise sequel to Beyond the soldier & After the eclipse

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Kink/Trope: Quirofilia/Nursed Back to Health

Requested by: @clarinette07

October 28th: Naughty School Adventures (1)

Pairing: Janitor!Sam Winchester x Teacher!Reader x Gymteacher!Dean Winchester

Kink: Cucking

Idea by: @moosekateer13

October 29th: Unwanted Mate (Steve's version)

Pairing: Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader

Trope: Unrequited feelings

October 30th: Taped on video

Pairing: J3 x fem!Reader

Kink: BDSM

Requested by @moosekateer13

Halloween Specials: ANGST/SMUT/HORROR

October 31st: The past always catches up

Pairing: Winter Soldier x former Hydra!(fem) Reader

Trope: Villain Reader

October 31st: Dreams of sharp teeth

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x fem!Reader x Werewolf!August Walker

Trope: Monster AU

Find all other Bingos and Special Events here: Special Events

#dean winchester #sam winchester #steve rogers #bucky barnes #marvel #supernatural #kinktober 2023 #flufftober 2023 #angstober 2023

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afewproblems · 1 year ago

Text

Season Two Halloween AU Part Six

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Synopsis: What if Eddie had been at Tina's Halloween Party in Season Two? Featuring Steve!Whump, Stancy Breakup, and Eddie just trying to keep up with all these new revelations about who King-Steve actually is...

As always, thank you thank you to the lovely Jess @strangersteddierthings for letting me inundate you with spoilers and general Stranger Things/Steddie screaming!

[CW: Period Typical Homophobia from the antagonist, violence, gore, bodily injury, Billy Hargrove is his own warning.]

***

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Eddie takes a step closer to Steve, but Dustin is faster.

He pulls on the jacket sleeve, taking Steve to the window and Eddie can't even find the words to say to make him stop.

He wants to tell Dustin to give them a second, he wants to press pause on this whole horrible night and ask Steve to explain.

Because in what world did this make sense?

There is no possible way Steve is gay, and even if is, the guy is fresh off of being dumped by his girlfriend just days before.

On top of that, they're all running on fumes from a day searching for Dart, fortifying an old school bus, laying the Demodog trap in the junkyard, and finally coming back to the Byers to make their plan.

Eddie's stomach growls at the sudden thought and he realizes just how hungry he actually is after all the adrenalin and running around they've done.

If Eddie is this tired and hungry, he can't imagine Steve is faring much better, he's not thinking straight.

He can't be.

Because if he was, if he had meant it, and Eddie just--

"Oh shit," Steve says lowly from the edge of the intact window. He presses against the wall, keeping himself out of sight as much as he can, "what the fuck is Hargrove doing here?"

"That's what I'm saying," Dustin hisses, his eyes wide, he sticks close to Steve's side, away from the window and turns to Max, "what the hell is your brother doing here".

Max shoots Dustin a look and for a second Eddie thinks she's going to tell Dustin off before her face suddenly pales.

"He can't know I'm here, he'll kill me".

Lucas shifts closer to Max, knocking his shoulder into hers before turning his attention back to Steve, "he almost ran us over once, we were on our bikes".

Their bikes…Jesus.

It hits Eddie suddenly that they're just kids, all of thirteen years old, with an unpredictable asshole standing just outside their door.

Steve sighs suddenly and squares his shoulders, his big hazel eyes move from Max, to Lucas, to Dustin, and Mike, before finally landing on Eddie. His brow pinches in the middle as his expression shifts into the same determined one from the day before.

But this time there is no nail bat in his hands.

Shit.

"Steve, dont," Eddie says, darting across the room towards him, but Steve is too quick for him.

He reaches for the door and unlatches the bolt, "stay out of sight, all of you, I'll be right back".

It's a promise Eddie isn't sure Steve can make.

The kids immediately move towards the edge of the window before Eddie whispers out a sharp, "Go to the boarded one shitheads, he's going to see you".

Eddie shakes his head at the four identical eye rolls, but the kids do as he says and make their way to the far window he and Steve just closed up.

There are enough gaps between the wood slats that they can see Steve make his way to the path as Billy steps around his car.

"Am I dreaming or is that you Harrington?"

The cherry of his cigarette glows in the dark as Billy takes a long drag before flicking it into the street.

"Yeah it's me, don't cream your pants," Steve's voice is steady, the smooth lilt of his 'King' voice takes over and it's so different from what Eddie has come to realize is Steve's normal speaking voice that it throws him for a bit of a loop.

Just how much has Steve been pretending all this time.

Moonlight casts shadows over half of Billy's face but it doesn't hide the way his lip pulls over his teeth or the dark glint in his eye as he pulls off his jacket and tosses it through the open window of his Camaro.

"I'm looking for my step sister, little birdy told me she was here," Billy says, a sneer pulling at his mouth as his eyes scan the house before landing on Steve again, "which would already be weird enough, and now I find you here".

"I'm doing a favour for Mrs. Wheeler and Byers, babysitting, I don't think I've seen your step sister, what's she look like?"

Eddie can't see Steve's face from this angle but the words come out smoothly, no stumbles with the lie.

But Billy stares just a little too long for it to have properly landed.

"You do favours for people like that huh," Billy laughs, ignoring the question entirely as he takes another step closer. He and Steve are similar heights but Billy has a good twenty to thirty pounds of muscle on Steve and Eddie begins to sweat at the manic look on Billy's face.

"You're something else Harrington, I don't think I'd be able to stick around if my girl fucked someone else--"

"Your sister's Not Here," Steve bites out through gritted teeth. He steps into Billy's space, his shoulders high with tension and anger, "leave".

Billy laughs, a low dangerous sound, "you know, this whole night's been giving me a weird fucking feeling Harrington".

Billy tips his head back and leaves it there for just a moment and Eddie watches as Steve relaxes for just a second too long, tilting his head in confusion.

"And I think you're lying to me".

Billy punctuates the words by slamming his hands into Steve's shoulders, knocking him clean off his feet.

Steve hits the concrete hard, managing to roll enough for his shoulder to connect with the ground first rather than his head. He manages to sit up slightly, looking at Billy now with a mixture of surprise and fear in his wide eyes as he shifts to look back at the house.

Billy smirks and leans over Steve, "I'm just going to see for myself, told you to plant your feet pretty boy".

He stands up to his full height again and kicks Steve in the ribs. Hard.

Eddie curses quietly as Steve curls in on himself and makes a horrible retching sound, but there isn't time to worry about Steve as Billy comes lumbering up the front path towards the Byers front door.

Which is unlocked.

Eddie hadn't even thought to latch it.

"Hide. Now!" Eddie hisses at Max, she opens her mouth to argue but Lucas gives her a push to the shoulder and looks at her with pleading eyes.

"Just go okay?" Lucas whispers, pushing her again towards the kitchen.

She shoots Lucas a fierce glare over her shoulder and disappears around the corner.

Eddie steps back towards the kids, putting himself between them and the door, just in time for it to crash open.

Billy looks around the room, frowning slightly at the boarded up window and all of the drawings covering nearly every inch of the place like vines, before his gaze lands on Eddie and the kids behind him.

"Well, well, well, this is quite the party here huh boys," Billy sneers, kicking the door closed behind him.

"A private one," Eddie manages to keep his tone even as he takes a step closer, drawing Billy's eye away from the kids, "what do you want Hargrove".

Billy scoffs and tries to step around Eddie, yelling at the top of his voice as he moves, "Maxine! You got three seconds to get you skinny ass out here before I bring you out myself".

Eddie mirrors his path, blocking his movement.

"Who the fuck are you talking to man, I guess thats what happens when you take too many balls to face huh?" Eddie says with a mocking laugh in his voice, he lets the corner of his lip rise in a cold sneer.

Billy glares, "that's rich coming from a queer like you," he lifts his hand to shove Eddie's shoulder roughly, but Eddie's dealt with assholes like Billy time and time again and he’s expecting the push.

He stays standing, keeping himself between Billy and the kids.

Billy shakes his head, "I don't know why you're involved in this, are you revenge for Byers or something? I ain't here for you or your little boyfriend out there, freak".

"Just leave us alone!" Dustin shouts, drawing Billy's eye for the first time.

"Yeah fuck off!" Mike screams as Lucas stands up, glaring venomously at Billy. He has his wrist rocket raised, armed with a piece of jagged wood from the broken window.

"Sinclair," Billy's eyes narrow as they land on Lucas, "if I find out Maxine is here because of you--"

"You'll what?" Eddie growls, he hears a door open softly behind them but keeps his eyes on Billy, not taking any chances.

Billy seems to hesitate, his eyes dropping down to Eddie's fisted hands before rising again to meet his gaze, "Max already knows what happens when people don't listen, but I guess I'll have to show you the hard way Munson".

Billy moves like a viper, his fist rears back and swings forward so quickly that Eddie barely has time to react, catching the punch in the jaw as he tries to move out of the way.

"Sonovabitch," Eddie hisses, cradling his face. His vision swims as Billy reaches for his shirt collar, but the second blow never comes.

Billy's hand falls as Steve appears, barreling into Billy, shoulder first like a linebacker, sending them both crashing into the floor. Billy's head smacks into the linoleum, forcing a low groan out of him.

Steve recovers quicker, rolling off the other teen before rising to his knees. He’s breathing hard and holding his ribs with one hand while the other braces on the coffee table as he stands up.

"Holy shit," Dustin laughs out breathlessly as Steve limps closer, moving into Eddie's space.

"You guys okay?" Steve asks softly, he lifts his hand up towards Eddie's aching jaw but stops just shy of touching him. He blinks once and moves away again before turning to the kids.

They all freeze at the sound of a wild laugh behind them.

Billy runs a shaking hand through his mullet, slowly sitting up, scoffing when his fingers come away red.

"Finally!" Billy crows, "the King Steve I've been hearing about shows his face, where was he when I gave you that black eye yesterday huh?"

Billy wipes the blood from the side of his head on his jeans and laughs again, a horrible cackle that seems to echo around the small space of the living room. He paws at something on the floor as he manages to roll over onto his knees, breathing hard.

"Let me give you some advice Harrington,” Billy says through gritted teeth, bracing one hand on the coffee table while the other remains strangely hidden behind his back.

Steve says nothing, moving himself to stand in front of Eddie and the kids. Billy stumbles slightly and shakes his head as he manages to get his feet back under himself.

"If you're gonna hit someone, make sure they don't get back up".

By the time Eddie sees what Billy has clenched in his hand it's too late.

Billy swings his hand out and catches Steve in the temple with an ashtray, the ceramic shatters on impact sending pieces of pottery in all directions and embedding several into Billy’s hand.

Eddie's heart nearly stops at the wet crunch it makes as Steve's head whips back at the impact. He crumples limply to the floor, his head bouncing once against the linoleum before Steve lays still on the living room floor.

Eddie feels like he's underwater. Like time has slowed down and he's sinking.

He doesn't realize he's moving until he's in front of Billy, until he's gripping the edges of Billy's shirt in his hands, until he's shaking him like a ragdoll.

Eddie's never felt such overwhelming rage and fear, its coursing through him, burning him up from the inside out.

Steve isn't moving.

There's only coherent thought playing on a loop in his head.

He's dead, he's dead, he's dead.

"Billy!" A small voice cuts through Eddie's yelling, when had he started yelling, from the kitchen door.

Billy's face tips towards it, his dazed eyes widen slightly and his lip curls back in a feral smile.

"I fucking knew it," Billy slurs out as Eddie throws him to the floor.

He laughs again and again, his head bleeding freely now, red lines drip down his face.

Max takes a shaky step into the living room; she ignores Lucas yelling at her to run and continues forward, Will's second dose of sedative clutched in her left hand.

Max pushes past Eddie, drops to her knees and plunges the needle into Billy's neck with a roar. Eddie watches as Billy flinches at the impact and lifts his hands to frantically rip the needle out.

"What the fuck?!" He whispers, trying to sit up but his shaking arms only drop him back to the floor, "what did you do?"

"Made it so you can't hurt my friends," Max says lowly, she trembles as Eddie helps her stand and directs her towards the boys who immediately fold her into a hug between the three of them.

Eddie keeps his eyes on Billy until his breathing smooths out and his unfocused eyes finally close before he’s on his feet. He crosses the room in two strides and drops to his knees in front of Steve, letting his uncle's voice run through everything he ever taught him about first aid.

Don't move them, keep them talking, keep them warm.

Eddie's hands shake as he reaches out for Steve's neck and feels for a pulse, trying not to look at the blood coating Steve's face or the shards of ceramic in his hair.

"Is he…" Dustin says beside Eddie, startling him. The whole house has gone eerily silent as the kids finally make their way towards them, they don't crowd him the way Dustin has though.

Eddie swallows and moves his fingers slightly until he finds it, a thin reedy pulse.

He's alive.

Eddie feels his eyes sting and a wet hysterical laugh falls from his mouth. Steve is nowhere near okay, but he's alive.

He's alive.

Part Seven!

Tag List:

@eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @corrodedbisexual @starman-jpg @ilovecupcakesandtea @yoriposts @clumsiluni @pelinelin @phantomcat94 @lololol-1234 @anaibis @airconditioning123 @steveshairspray @hellfireone @sunswathe @eddielives1986 @tentativeghost @robin-not-batman @estrellami-1 @manda-panda-monium @tinyplanet95 @perseus-notjackson @queenie-ofthe-void @rainbowsaw @sp0o0kylights @littlebluejane @hi-im-eff @phantypurple @just-ladyme @thoroughlycollected @justrandomfandomstm @swimmingbirdrunningrock @finntheehumaneater @dynamic-powerm@nightmareglitter @genderless-spoon @zaddipax @thebiblesays @amerikanskaya-krassavitsa @pyrohonk @emly03 @geekymagicalpotato @sidebarre

and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @henderdads @stevesbipanic @spooky-brakers

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sgojoenthusiast · 1 year ago

Text

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ KINKTOBER 2023 ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

➸ DAY NINE: FOR ME?

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*

summary: you had always had this strange fascination with Armin - an obsession surrounded by dark daydreams and violent fantasies that confused you endlessly. who would have thought you and Armin had more in common that you thought?

CW: fem reader, reader & armin are a bit psychotic, depictions of murder and violence, graphic, smut, knife play, blood, finger sucking, halloween party, costumes but make up your own bc whatever i choose will be wrong lol, degrading, 'slut', face slapping/ pussy slapping.

word count: 5.5k

likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

masterlist.

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*

To everyone else, you were an easy-going and friendly soul - one incapable of harbouring any sort of sin. Not to Armin, though. He could see right through you and right into the dark depths of your mind even if you believed to be obsessing in silence.

It’d be hard to believe that your mind circled around the thoughts of Armin through your polite laughs and friendly nature - especially considering the kinds of thoughts you were having.

His hands wrapped around your throat. His knife tracing down your skin. His teeth marking and biting you. Sometimes, it’d be your hand, your knife and your teeth. However, most of the time it was Armin. These thoughts never really bothered you but you never even dreamed about experimenting or vocalising your thoughts.

But, fuck, did you think about him a lot.

You should have felt guilty considering the kind and innocent type Armin is. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone you.

…Right?

Armin was well liked by everyone despite his awkwardness and introverted characteristics. Therefore, he couldn’t possibly have such vile thoughts about you. You and Armin were more similar than you had initially thought. Infact, despite a few common interests and mutual friends you thought of yourself as quite different from him.

Armin was a pure and thoughtful soul whilst you only pretended to be so - or so you thought.

If only you had known the kind of disgusting places his mind would wander to when his eyes were locked on yours and you were too deep in conversation to notice.

Due to your obliviousness, you never saw the way his fists would clench when he saw you with another man or how he'd instinctively lean towards any sharp item without even thinking about what he was doing, only being snapped out of his murderous daze when you flash him a sweet smile and call out his name.

The two of you shared a lot more in common than you thought and Armin was determined to show you the truth no matter how difficult it was proving to be. He didn't want to scare you off, but he also had no idea where the line was. Therefore, he couldn't just approach you and admit everything so suddenly or lose himself to the wicked side of his brain and kill someone for so much as touching you (and let you know about it because, truthfully, the three guys who have gone missing these past few months haven't been a simple slip of the finger - he had wanted to tell you what he had done for you but he too fell for the false innocence behind your gentle features which made it harder for him).

That was the main difference between the two of you. Armin didn’t just have thoughts of you laying naked beneath him whilst he marked and teased you. Often, his mind was swarmed with thoughts of blood and murder - wanting to kill people just for the hell of it.

It was getting increasingly more difficult to bottle it all up, though. He was certain his friends wouldn't be necessarily supportive if he told them he often dreamed of the blood of others coating his hands or taking a blade and tracing over every feature on your body with it. Whilst he was a slight psychopath, he wasn't an idiot.

The only person who would understand was you, but he wasn't positive to what extent.

Thats why, he watched silently as some random horny stranger had approached you thinking you'd easily slip into his sheets. You didn't push him away and you hid your annoyance fairly well, despite a few curt responses and a lack of eye contact.

The two of you were at Eren's house for a halloween party. Armin was never really a part person and on the inside, you weren't either. You would typically accept every invitation to come off as kind.

Armin's eyes were filled with anger as he watched the two of you, and when the drunken stranger began to leave feathered touches on your skin - he almost lost it.

He was milliseconds away from ripping the two of you apart before a body cut through his path and snapped him out of commiting a horrible mistake.

He couldn't help but be pissed off that Jean was blocking him and talking to him about some shit he didn't even really care about but he was also quite thankful he had a minute to collect himself and his thoughts.

Moving his head around Jean in order to glance over at you, he could see a visible amount of uncomfort plastered on your face from the man's touching which had grown more prominent since he last saw you. You politely said something inaudible to him and backed up in an almost hidden disgust when he leaned forward to whisper something in your ear, touching your arm one last time before heading off somewhere.

Armin gave Jean a half-ass reply to his unknown question, to which Jean gave him a confused and annoyed look when understanding Armin wasn't listening as his attention had been elsewhere. Scoffing, he walked off, and Armin began making his way back over to you.

Clearing his throat to make his presence known, he smiled at you and noticed how you immediately perked up when you noticed him. "Are you okay? I saw that guy with you, he looked like he was bothering you a bit."

"You saw that? Yeah... I told him I'd meet him in the woods behind the house but, obviously, I'm not gonna go." You let out a humourless laugh to drown out some of the awkwardness. "I'm okay though. How about you Armin, are you okay? Are you enjoying the party?"

He had stopped listening to you.

Now, all he could think of was how that fucker was in the woods, alone, waiting for a girl who wont be showing up.

“Armin?” You waved a hand in front of his face to drag him away from his thoughts. “Are you okay? Do you need to go home?”

He looked at you confused before he had realised that he had been ignoring you for a few minutes.

Simply, he shook his head and offered you a polite smile, before making up some bullshit excuse of needing some water before heading to the kitchen. He was too in his head to notice the sceptical look in your eyes or the way there was a soft pair of footsteps that followed him as he subtly took a knife from a kitchen drawer and hid it in his jacket as he headed towards the backdoor.

He figured the guy couldn’t have gone too far as he was drunk and waiting for someone. Outside was surprisingly empty for halloween. He had assumed a few more people would be out here but there were just about five people minding their own business, not paying attention to the train of people wandering into the forest or the awaiting crime scene about to come.

You wandered quite a few paces behind Armin, acting careful in order to not get caught, however you could have been breathing down his neck and he wouldn’t have noticed through his blind rage.

He was following the sound of whistling, and every so often you could hear the sound of someone laughing and talking to themself - the voice you recognised to be the guy from earlier. He was clearly impressed with himself for thinking he’d managed to pull you. Armin was less impressed, however.

At the sound of someone approaching him, the guy turned around with a grin on his face expecting it to be you - only to be met with Armin’s blank stare and a knife gripped tightly in his hand.

Clearly confused, the stranger let out a nervous laugh as his eyes narrowed. Armin just kept walking towards him, consistent in his purposeful pace before he grabbed the guy by his throat and pushed him against one of the many trees. He slowly dragged the knife up his arm whilst the guy sputtered out panicked cries for help.

“W-what the fuck, dude?!” He shouted, his arms flailing to push Armin off who was seemingly stronger than he looked - which surprised both you and the guy fighting for his life.

You hid behind a tree watching the scene unfold - you should have gone to help. You had never had thoughts of other people dying, that's never something you wanted. But for whatever reason, you couldn’t help willingly watch as the knife in Armin’s hand pressed deeper and deeper into the flesh of the random stranger. You weren’t even thinking of stopping him - yet you really should have done.

Armin’s knife was merciless. He stabbed repeatedly - over and over and over again but you didn’t even bat an eyelash at the sight. Not when the blood of the man was staining Armin’s shirt and hands or when he choked out blood and looked up to meet your eyes - pleading you to come and save him. The only thing that annoyed you was that he probably thought you were there for him.

Armin was breathing heavily as he let the dead body fall to the ground - mouth hung open and eyes staring creepily out into the open as though his soul had yet to leave. He sighed frustratedly as though him killing someone had been a massive inconvenience to him - like he didn’t have a choice.

You hadn’t even noticed you were gradually inching closer to Armin until he started to turn around in your direction, your feet carrying you forward without your mind’s permission.

Quickly, and rather stupidly, you looked down, hoping he wouldn’t recognise you - or see you for that matter. He did have a knife in his hand, afterall.

Armin called your name and you immediately looked up and cursed yourself internally. His eyes were wide and crazed, his hand tapping his leg over and over as he kept his eyes locked on yours.

His mind was reeling - it had been since he caught sight of you watching him brutally murder a man for simply hitting on you.

Were you annoyed? Scared? Did you hate him? Did you at least appreciate the gesture or find what he considered to be romantic elements within it? Were you going to call the police and turn him in?

Was he going to have to kill you so that you didn’t?

He couldn’t do that. Armin found himself caring about very little these days but you were the exception. You were all he thought and cared about and he would do everything to keep you alive - he simply couldn’t be the reason you were to die.

Your face was so expressionless that he couldn’t tell whether you didn’t care or if he had simply traumatised you.

His lips parted and then closed a few times, he was trying to justify what he had done but if there were any part of you that was at least the littlest bit sane, you wouldn’t hear it.

“You have blood on your clothes.” You stated.

Well, there was his answer.

Without another second of hesitation, Armin spoke up. “I did this for you.”

Slightly surprised, your lips parted. You supposed it was obvious, but you had no idea Armin would do something like that for you.

Your heart fluttered, and you became washed over with the feeling of butterflies dancing dangerously around in your stomach as your eyes morphed into hearts and you tilted your head up at him in slight disbelief that he could ever do something so… kind - and all for you.

“For me?” You muttered, your voice dripping with adoration.

He hesitantly stepped closer to you, not wanting to push any boundaries but desperate to know where you stand. You didn’t move or even flinch, making Armin’s lips twitch and start to form a smile.

“I knew you weren’t who you said you were.”

At this, you stepped away from him, shooting him a confused glance at his now seemingly malicious tone.

Armin’s breathing was erratic, his eyes looked like they were about to bulge out of his head and his words weren’t making any sense causing you to become concerned and slightly scared in case he was now planning on doing something to you.

“What do you mean?” You replied, your voice the same forced tone of gentleness in an attempt to try and get him to calm down a bit.

"Please." Armin scoffed, rolling his eyes at you. "No one's as sweet and as kind as you pretend to be. Only an idiot couldn't notice it's all an act."

You tilted your head at him and slowly started to bring your defences back down.

Now, his eyes had narrowed and his face looked slightly less crazed and more bothered than anything else.

"Oh yeah? Then what does that make you, hm? People see you as just as kind as I am, do they not? So what kind of darkness is hidden beneath the many layers of your mind, Armin, if no one can possibly be that kind?"

In that moment, every inch of progress was erased. He'd been trying for so long to ease you into his world - a world of dead bodies and rough sex, all for every ounce of progress to be erased by his uncontrollable mouth.

"My mind is full of you. Full of so many images of you beneath me, moaning and bloodied. In my mind, you're as obsessed with me as I am with you."

Sighing, you were overcome with a sensation of relief. How long had he felt the same? How hadn’t you noticed but he had?

Biting your lip, you took a few steps closer to him.

There was blood splattered on his face and all over his clothes and hands, yet despite that, you reached over to move the hair out of his face and run your hand down his red-stained cheek carefully.

You pressed a kiss on his soft lips and he eagerly returned it, one of his bloodied hands staining the skin on your hips as he pulled you in closer.

“I want you to meet me back at my house. I’ll be a while, but I want you to wait for me. Can you do that?” His voice was steady yet quiet. It was more of a demand, something he was expecting you to do without complaints, rather than a question. So, you nodded obediently - to which he smiled and ushered you along.

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*･｡ﾟﾟ.*

Armin had given you his keys, so you let yourself in and settled down on his bed, waiting patiently for him to arrive just like he asked.

He was gone for hours, and it was well into the early moment when you were awoken from a reluctant nap by the sound of the front door opening. Lifting yourself up from your lying position, you watched the door to his bedroom in anticipation for it to open.

When it did, you saw that Armin was now no longer covered in blood and was now in fresh, blood-free clothes.

It had been fairly easy to walk around covered in the blood of someone else at a halloween party without people batting an eye - he had asked Eren to take a shower in one of the bathrooms and borrow a change of clothes after telling him someone had dumped fake blood on him as a joke. It was a poor excuse, but who would think any different when it was Armin? Nobody would so much as think twice at something he had said.

He hadn’t had an excuse for the dirt that he was covered in, but somehow nobody had paid any attention to it. Again, it was a halloween party.

He smiled at the sight of you and walked over to the side of the bed where you were sitting. Kneeling down, his hands ran over the skin off your thighs. You were still wearing the costume you had put on for the halloween party and it was driving Armin insane.

You looked incredible, as always, but something about you in a skirt and giving him such easy access was throwing him off balance and making him lose control.

Armin’s eyes ran all over your body, relishing in every inch that he could see as his hands ran up and down your thighs before moving to your hips and picked you up with ease - moving you to the centre of the bed.

He towered over you as you lay down and stared straight up into his eyes.

Eyes that were so empty yet so full.

Void of any sympathy or guilt, yet full of lust and obsession.

Armin reached over to his bedside table, sliding open the drawer and pulling something out. From the sound of the steel dragging against the wood, you had a fairly good idea of what it was that he had pulled out.

The blade ran across your jaw, sending cool shivers throughout your entire body as you closed your eyes and sighed at the feeling.

“Did I scare you earlier?” He asks, though his voice portrays an unbothered attitude towards whatever your answer may be - knowing that he’ll be getting what he has yearned for, for far too long, by the time the sun rises nevertheless.

He drops the knife by the side of your head and takes your chin in the grasp of his own hand, forcing your eyes to meet his.

As you shake your head, his thumb slips into your mouth and you take it acceptingly. He can feel himself grow harder at the sight of you sucking on his thumb - his cock stirring uncomfortably in his pants yet he dismisses the feeling to focus on you.

“Such a brave girl, aren’t you? So good for me.”

Silently, you agreed, nodding your head slowly up and down with your tongue still circling his thumb.

Once again, he takes the knife after removing his thumb from your mouth, and begins to trace the outline of your clothing with it.

Without warning, he cuts the thin yet tight material of your top, careful not to cut you but thorough in his job as the fabric falls uselessly beside you. Armin takes the fabric and throws it to the side of his room - fed up with the distance between the two of you.

You weren’t wearing a bra, causing Armin’s eyes to widen when he’s met with the sight of your bare chest almost immediately. He smirks and leans down to begin sucking on your tits.

His tongue swirls around one of your nipples whilst he pressed the knife flat against the other.

The sound of your moans could barely be heard from the other side of the room yet they were so clear to Armin who soaked in every moment that he was bringing you pleasure.

Removing his mouth, he licked his lips and grinned widely down at you.

You were panting slightly and trying to buck your hips into his own, desperate for some sort of friction. He ignored your silent pleas and went back to doing whatever he wanted with you.

Armin traced a knife down your stomach. He pressed down lightly so he wouldn’t hurt you but, nevertheless, your heart still beat restlessly in your chest.

“You have no fucking idea how much I wanna cut you up, baby.” he whispered, smiling at you manically.

Your thighs press together instinctively, searching for that friction you yearned for. Yet, nothing goes unnoticed by Armin. He had spent far too long watching and observing every little detail about you to miss a single thing.

He tilts his head at you. “Oh? You like the sound of that, baby? Want me to cut you up whilst I fuck you, hm?” The cool steel of the knife’s blade glides up your bare stomach and up to your chin. “Does that turn you on, sweetheart?”

You look at him lustfully, yet unblinking and silent. Your hips move underneath his, desperately trying to buck up into his own to gain some sort of pleasure.

Suddenly, you no longer feel the blade against your throat. Armin takes the knife and stabs into the mattress, right by your leg. Merely centimetres away from cutting your thigh.

He grabs your chin, hard enough to send you a warning, letting you know of your mistake but not hard enough that you’d want him to let go. “I asked you a fucking question!” he spat, his wild smile replaced with a sinister frown and furrowed brows.

You looked up at him and grinned like his anger was your only source of entertainment - like it pleased you to see him get so riled up. Still keeping your voice to yourself, he was becoming severely displeased. “Fine then. You won't mind if I look for myself, would you?”

His free hand slipped past your skirt and into your underwear, though his eyes never left yours and his frown never left his lips.

A barely audible moan slipped past your lips at the feeling of his hand touching you where you had needed him the most - where you had been needing him since he had come back yet he had refused to touch. Although, it didn’t last long as he was quick to remove his hand and examine his wet fingers.

There was an eerie silence hanging in the air for what seemed like minutes. His face had shown little emotion within those moments as he looked down at his hand which was covered in your juices.

Abruptly, the corner of his mouth twitched. Once more, he started to laugh, causing a pout to form on your face.

“I fucking knew it. Fuckin’ knew you were just a little slut, so turned on by the idea of me slicing her up as I fuck her slutty little pussy.” his eyes moved to your face gleefully before putting on a mocking frown. “Aw, c’mon sweetheart! Why’re you so sad? Best use your fucking words. Don't wanna make me mad again, do ya baby?”

“You’re making fun of me, Armin!” you pouted up at him, batting your sweet eyelashes up at him as though you hadn’t just hours ago watched him ruthlessly stab a man repetitively for simply hitting on you. No, no, no. That didn’t bother you. What did, was the fact he had barely touched you where you needed him to, and how he was mocking you for being so turned on.

But how could you not when he looked at you with eyes so full of love? When he touched you with palms stained with the blood of the people he had killed. When he smiled at you with that toothy grin that could have made you think you were next, and if it weren’t for his eyes, you would have thought that.

Although, to anyone else, his eyes would have seemed crazed and murderous. To you, they were full of love because they were murderous.

He’d kill for you.

He has killed for you.

That thought made you feel special and loved in a disturbing kind of way. Others may deem you insane, but in your eyes, you were simply love-struck.

Armin tutted mockingly as his thumb ran across your chin as a reminder of the affection he holds for you before he spews out more cruel words. “Poor baby. Do you want me to touch you, hm?”

In response, you simply nodded your head incessantly, yet it wasn’t enough for Armin. He slapped you harshly across your cheek to which you let out a strained whine and closed your eyes tightly in confusion and annoyance.

“Use your words.” He demanded. Though, he began to remove his own clothes at this point - clearly as desperate as yourself.

You were so desperate to feel his touch that this only frustrated you - needing to feel him as soon as possible because you had been waiting for long enough.

“Please Armin. I need you to touch me so bad.” You batted your eyelashes up at him and lifted your hips up in an attempt to meet his to further demonstrate your desperation. “I can’t take it any more, ‘min. Been needing you for so long, please don’t make me wait any longer-”

He ripped your skirt off with such speed you swore if you had blinked you would have missed it.

Now, it was him that needed you desperately. You were making him a pathetic mess with every syllable that left your sweet lips and he needed you to fix the problem that you were causing him.

The feeling was fairly mutual, you had been grinding your hips against whatever they could reach since he had first started to touch you.

He brought his lips down to yours and forced you into a sloppy and messy kiss that didn’t last very long because of how much he needed to feel you inside of him. Yet, he needed to remind you of how much he loved every part of you before he continued his ravage on your body.

Without warning, Armin flipped the two of you over so that now, you were the one straddling his hips.

You looked down on him, confused as to why he was putting you in a position where objectively, you had the upper-hand.

“You’ve been grinding your slutty pussy against anything it can touch since I even got here, baby. If you’re so fucking desperate, you can do it yourself.” Your lips formed a frown of annoyance as your eyebrow’s furrowed to further demonstrate your feelings. Before continuing, he motioned to his hard-on that was poking your thigh with his head. “Not to mention, you created this fucking problem, so you should be the one to fix it, isn’t that right?”

Your lips parted to object despite his warning glare telling you not to. “No it isn’t! ‘ts not fair, ‘min. Been wanting you to touch me all night and i’ve been so good for you and you’re just gonna make me do all the-”

Again, the sound of his hand meeting your cheek resounded throughout the room harshly. Your face was pushed roughly to the side and your mouth was left agape - yet, for some reason, you only found yourself growing wetter at the violent treatment. It was more rough than the first time he had slapped you, and yet that made it only more pleasuring.

“I killed someone tonight for you. I killed him and buried his body and took care of everything in between and after that and yet you’re still acting like an ungrateful slut. I don’t care how good you’ve been, I’ve asked you to do something, so you’re going to fucking do it.”

Your chest was rising and falling quickly but you had never felt so turned on. There was something laced in the way he was talking down on you, something so alluring about the shy and meek boy you had known just hours ago was now slapping you and saying such harsh words to you.

There was something about how he loved you so harshly that made you feel so secure when his hands met your hips to help you guide yourself down onto his dick.

“Shit- you feel so fucking amazing, baby.” Armin breathed out, his eyes screwed shut as his fingers caressed the sides of your hips in a loving and tender manner to distract you from the inevitable pain of the stretch.

The stretch was far from unnoticeable - you had taken notice of how it wouldn’t be easy from the very second he removed his pants.

Once he was fully inside you, you took a moment to breathe. Armin complied because even though he had been hurting you in several ways, he refused to give you any sort of pain that you didn’t want.

He let you decide when to start moving, and when you did, he threw his head back in pleasure and groaned at the tight feeling of your pussy squeezing him so tightly.

You were slow, trying to grow accustomed to his larger size, but just the feeling of your tight walls hugging his cock like he had dreamed of for so long had his hands grabbing your hips tightly for some semblance of control.

Your pace began to quicken as time moved and the strength wasn’t so much as painful as it was pleasurable- and, fuck, was it pleasurable.

He was filling you up so comfortably and nicely. It almost felt like you were made to take his dick - the way it curved so perfectly and hit the sweet spot inside of you that was making your head spin.

“Doing so good for me, sweetheart. Taking my dick so well, I’m so, so proud of you.”

His praises only spurred you on and motivated you to start slamming your hips against his own, your pace significantly faster than it was previously.

Armin was moaning out openly and chanting praises and curses for how well you were treating him.

The feeling of the veins on his cock running across your walls and his tip kissing the spot inside of you to perfectly have you gasping and practically screaming Armin’s name at the top of your lungs.

Though, he noticed that your hips were growing tired and more sloppy. Deciding that you had been perfect for him and made him feel so good, he suddenly flipped the two of you over once again causing your mind to feel dizzy. It was soon fucked out of you for good, however.

Armin had one of your legs thrown carelessly over his shoulder as he started to pound into your soaking cunt mercilessly. His thick, hard cock was splitting your wet cunt so ruthlessly it had you reaching up to tug on his hair as your mouth fell open silently as though he had knocked all sound from your throat. The only time your voice could be heard was when an occasional string of moans would break through or when you would chant his name breathlessly and barely audible.

Armin’s eyes were glued to the way his cock was slipping in and out of your tight pussy with such ease. He didn’t even notice how hard he was squeezing your flesh until you were whining and pushing at his hands, and even then, all he did was look at you and roll his eyes.

“What? All of a sudden you can’t take a little pain? C’mon, baby, thought you were a big girl.”

You didn’t have the will nor the voice to protest or defend yourself from his insulting remarks. Not when they were making your pussy tighten even more around his cock which immediately alerted him how much you enjoyed his words.

“A-Arminnn-!” You were gasping and moaning, trying so hard to communicate to him what you were feeling.”pleaseeee, I’m-”

“Just shut the fuck up and take it.”

As if it was even possible, Armin’s thrusts had grown more brutal in force and quicker in speed, not before he left a few quick slaps to your soaking pussy - the sound of your wetness ringing throughout the room and only leaving you embarrassed at how much you were enjoying the contact of his hands mistreating your cunt.

As he sped up, he leaned down and peppered kisses all up your chest and across your neck until he found your lips and locked them together once more. He was obsessed with the taste of you - thinking that there was nothing more perfect in the entire world than your soft lips against his own and the taste of you in his mouth.

You could feel your orgasm approaching quickly, the knot inside of you stretching further and further and was so close to snapping.

You tried to convey this to Armin, yet all you could let out were pathetic mewls and cries of pleasure as tears began to run down your cheeks. When Armin noticed, all he could do was kiss your tears away and let his orgasm overcome him.

That was all it took - just a few tears running down your cheeks and he was turned irto a mess that was unable to prevent his own orgasm.

Thick, hot ropes of cum spilled inside of you as he groaned into your ear and it completely sent you over the edge in sync with himself.

Your pussy squeezed him so tightly throught his orgasm and his thrusts didn’t stop for a second - all of it felt so intensely euphoric that all you could do was throw your head back and scream his name as you finished around his dick.

After a few minutes, Armin pulled out of you and watched as his seed dripped down your legs. That same smirk invaded his face once again as he watched with such disgusting desire.

“You’re all mine now.” He whispered.

Breathlessly, Armin kissed up your body, making his way to your jaw before collapsing into your neck.

Voice not above a hushed whisper, he spoke sweet nothings of possessiveness and threats of other’s lives into your ear.

And yet, you sighed, because it was the most peaceful you had ever felt.

note: im sorry this is so late!! the last part will coming soon i promise even if it is the last day of kinktober today. i hope everyone enjoyed!!

#fanfic #smut #attack on titan x reader #aot fanfiction #aot fanfic #aot x reader smut #aot x reader #aot smut #armin smut #armin x reader #armin arlert x reader #armin x you #armin arlert smut #🪐 attack on titan

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brewstersbru · 1 year ago

Text

More halstarion cuz ive been playing my lil origin run; also happy halloween folks !

Pain. Sharp, dragging, unbearable agony against his back. Astarion huffs a small noise of pitiful discontent before clenching his mouth shut. Quiet. Can’t let him hear you. His fangs tear a little into his gums, but there isn’t enough blood in him for any to really trickle out of the wounds.

A voice- disembodied, but cold and lilting as ever- sounds from behind. “My dear, how prettily you bleed. Even lovelier now, with the poetry I am bestowing upon you. Truly, a gift. And what do we say to gifts, Astarion?”

Astarion moans miserably into the ground- or is it a steel surgical table? He can’t remember, he can’t focus. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. There’s a feeling of hands in his hair, grasping, tearing- the flash of a derisive, fanged grin- “What do we say, Astarion?”

His name sounds like rot coming from his lips, similar to the way one would utter the word “disgusting” or “vile”. Astarion hiccups with the force of his suffering- it’s simply too much, never before has Cazador been so persistent, never before has he carved so deep, for so long. Astarion’s weak, starving body cannot maintain itself against his tides of cruelty.

There is quiet as Cazador waits for his answer, he knows Astarion will do his very best to give it. Years and years of this torment had to have culminated into something- into an exceedingly loyal dog, he’d hoped. It’s why he tries not to command anything; not only because it takes the fun out of things, but also because it encourages a kind of devotion to the task that a simple order could never elicit. Pain can be such a useful tool, and he’s spent years honing his skill with it.

Astarion gasps, chokes on a putrid mix of saliva and droplets of rat blood as they clog in his throat. “T-Thank you.” He coughs. Cazador hums and pushes his head back down. He runs a sharp nail down the middle of the warm, wet mess on Astarion’s back. It stings like a million tiny needles.

“Thank you, what?”

He digs the nail into one of the runes he’d just finished carving, ever so slightly, and Astarion writhes in agony. His breath comes choppy and ragged, and tears track endlessly down his nose. A moment, two, as Astarion brings a heaving breath in and steels himself against the revulsion he is about to feel.

“Thank you, Master.” The hum this elicits is decidedly pleased and Astarion hates himself all the more for earning it. If only he was stronger, if only he were able to hold out just a bit longer. If only he’d been able to make himself wait; Cazador would have grown tired, would have ordered him, eventually.

Now, he is little more than a lapdog, bereft of even his pride, and the pain will only continue. How he despises the man he’s become, the man Cazador has moulded him into.

The agony in his back resumes, even sharper and more unbearable than before. Astarion muffles a scream behind clenched teeth and wrenches his eyes open to reveal a circling of trees. A cool gust of air swipes across his sweat-soaked skin and he shivers, slightly.

Astarion takes a moment to orient himself. He’d been trancing, curled into himself and facing away from the fire- Gods know why, he could use all the heat he can get with the way his undead body refuses to hold onto it on its own; some lingering self-flagellation, perhaps.

He’s no longer bound to Cazador- for the time being at least- he’s fine. The ‘dream’ or whatever that had been was only a memory. Nothing more. He’s fine.

Sitting up, he swats at the tear tracks on his cheeks and comes face-to-face with a wide-eyed Halsin, who had been whittling, it seems, judging by the knife in one hand and the partially carved wooden-something in the other. Astarion ducks and covers his face with a slender hand.

“What in the hells are you doing, you oaf!?”

“… Whittling?” Halsin’s voice cracks a bit as he stumbles over the word. Astarion tries not to notice how endearing that is. He huffs.

“I gathered. Could you just- turn around? Please?”

Halsin tilts his head to the side, just slightly, and stares at him with furrowed brows, mouth set in a firm line. He speaks carefully, but directly, unable to tiptoe around a subject when they’re both aware of the gravity of it.

“Are you alright, my friend? I don’t mean to pry, it’s just I noticed-“

“Not now.” Astarion’s voice comes out rough, grating, and he cannot bring himself to look Halsin in the eye as he speaks.

“… Alright” There’s a shuffling as- assumedly- Halsin picks himself up and heads back to his tent. Astarion only allows himself a breath of relief when the other man’s footsteps retreat outside of his range of hearing.

On one hand, Astarion is astoundingly, exceedingly grateful to have his wishes honored. On the other, it is so, very quiet, and he can still feel the ghosts of fingers petting, clawing and grasping at his skin. He feels dirty, a vile little thing ought to be left in the dirt.

His back aches- phantom pains, he knows- and even years after their conception his scars throb. It’s not the first time this has happened, but it is the first time he’s been able to focus on it, the first time no other, greater pain can distract him from the dull shock of remembrance. Maybe he’d never healed correctly, maybe it’s his mind playing its usual tricks.

Suddenly unable to stand the scratch of cloth against the raised skin on his back, Astarion wrestles his shirt off of himself. Sharp nails dragging uncaringly against the skin as if trying to sate an itch. He wants the ‘poetry’ off of himself, he wants to be clean.

His scratching becomes more fervent, less careful as his thoughts spiral. A sob works its way up, only to die in his throat, he chokes a little on it. Off. Off. Off. He needs it off. He wishes he could claw the taint away. His skin crawls under his fingernails, even as they scratch past skin. Blood flows, sluggish, down the bony curve of his spine. It is not an unfamiliar feeling.

A sharp gasp sounds, quiet, but cutting in the previous silence that had pervaded the space around the campfire. Astarion does not dare look up from the ground. Great. Another interruption to him losing his fucking mind.

Thankfully- which, who could guess he’d ever think the word in relation to the druid- it’s just Halsin again. Arms now laden with jars and cloth, rather than the sharp woodworking tools he’d left the fire with. The jars are labeled, but his scrawl is too small for Astarion to parse the words.

“Astarion, my friend, please cease this needless self-mutilation!” He rushes to Astarion’s side, carefully placing the jars on the side of his bedroll and gently, loosely grasping at Astarion’s wrists- assumedly to encourage the vampire to pry his claws from his skin. He doesn’t push, simply holds him there.

The warmth is welcome, grounding in the swirl of pain and cold and despair that had previously been clouding Astarion’s mind. He lets out an unnecessary, but comforting breath and allows his hands to be pried away.

“Good. That’s good, my friend, thank you.”

Astarion grouses a discontented sound, to which Halsin huffs a small chuckle.

“Alright- you’re alright. You were looking rather pale- moreso than usual at least- and I had hoped some of my oils or salves could soothe any injuries you’d overlooked, or old aches.” He pauses for a moment and rifles through the pile of goods he’d brought over, “As elves, our ‘nightmares’ are more memories, than anything. I’m more than familiar with a long-forgotten wound making itself known after a particularly jarring remembrance. I am sorry yours were so visceral.”

He’s babbling, Astarion notices, low voice rather quick compared to its usual steady thrum, but he can appreciate the effort in attempting to keep him grounded. His body doesn’t want to move, though, and he simply slumps into himself, gaze steadily forward, hollow, almost in its vacancy.

“Here let me-“ A warmth hovers over the mess of Astarion’s back. Well, this is rather familiar. But it pauses,hesitates. Still, Astarion can feel himself tensing. A short, ragged sound punches out of him, unwitting. Halsin hums.

“Apologies, my friend, it seems my manners have escaped me in my nerves. May I touch you? I wish only to soothe the hurt, I have a balm that should do the trick well and once I’ve applied it, my hands will not touch your skin again should you wish it.”

Astarion takes a moment, another unnecessary breath, then nods. It’s curt, almost imperceptible really, but Halsin had been paying very close attention to his body’s reactions. He thanks him- what for, Astarion cannot even begin to fathom.

It’s quiet as Halsin’s deft fingers tenderly pass a wet towelette down his spine to clean the blood from it. It soothes, cool and stinging against new cuts and Astarion can only hope that at least he’d left new scars. Something to disrupt the carving of pure malice that had lain there, undisturbed, for so long.

“Thank you.” It takes a while, and his voice is fairly destroyed by what he can only assume had been long minutes of screaming and sobbing in his sleep, coupled with the panic attack after waking. Halsin’s fingers continue their deft work.

“Please. No need. If I may I- I hate to see you struggle so. Is there anything that caused it? Anything we can avoid?” His sincerity is sweet, but useless. Astarion shakes his head.

“Comes and goes, really. Used to be able to ignore it with other things. Can’t focus on memories when the present is fucked too, right?” Astarion chuckles, but Halsin does not join in.

It’s quiet for a bit, Halsin’s hands feel almost hesitant against his skin, “I am not a man easily drawn to violence but- well- your old master deserves nothing but the slowest, most painful death possible. I know it means little but I am sorry. You did not deserve his torment. No one could deserve that.”

“I was no angel in life, druid. For a long time, it seemed like a penance.” The words are almost hissed, but the sincerity in them is unmistakable.

“Even penance ends, eventually, Astarion. Forgiveness usually follows. Two hundred years is more than enough time. Especially when you had not even truly lived before being thrust into undeath- I mean thirty-nine? You still bear your child name.” Halsin sounds almost pained, although his hands remain steady, now pressing fingerfuls of balm to each cut, and even the undamaged rune-scars too. Something in Astarion howls, surges forward into an incessant rage at the tenderness.

“And perhaps I was a truly devilish child, druid! Perhaps I deserved it!” Halsin sighs.

“No one deserves that, Astarion. You have to know that.”

“If I allow myself to believe that, then I have to accept victimhood. I have to accept that loss of control. I have to accept that it’s not that I deserved it, it’s that no one cared enough to try to save me. Tell me, druid, which would you rather believe.” With a final, gentle pass of his thumb Halsin retreats. Shamefully, Astarion misses the warmth of his touch. The druid rounds his bedroll, settling criss-crossed in front of him and busying himself with organizing his bottles into a neat pile.

“Well, first, I’d like it if you used my name and not my title. It feels rather impersonal talking to you when you won’t even call me ‘Halsin’. Second, I truly don’t know, but I have always favored the truth over anything else.”

Astarion hisses, “I will call you what I like, not what you tell me to call you.” Halsin simply nods, and something inside him deflates. Backs down from its haunches.

“Oh, alright, you big baby. Halsin. Maybe the truth is that I was- however implausibly- the kind of person to deserve my penance.”

Halsin seems to light up at the sound of his name from Astarion’s lips. Astarion tries to find it dorky and uncool and not hopelessly endearing. Then, “I find that incredibly hard to believe. Had you even chosen an adult name? Had anything in mind?”

Astarion falls quiet at this. “I had an idea, a few, maybe. I remember being excited about them, I thought I was so clever with the word choice… But I cannot remember them. Cazador only called me by this name, when he deigned to adress me, and I did not exactly have the time or energy to care about choosing another.”

Something within Halsin cracks at the admission. To have that rite stolen from him was abhorrent. Heartbreaking.

“Truly you remember nothing?”

Astarion shrugs, “Hard to find that kind of thing important when there are other, more pressing matters. It’s not like the names would fit me anymore, either, two hundred years have taken their toll, after all.” He smiles, a crooked, self-depreciating thing and gestures to himself, the scars on his back. “Thank you, by the way. I wouldn’t have treated them on my own.” The thanks doesn’t even need to be forced from his lips. Halsin smiles at the ease with which it is offered.

“No need. And I know.”

It’s quiet for a while longer. The two of them take the time to simply look at each other. Astarion wonders, for perhaps the millionth time, what Halsin is seeing as he gazes at him with such open fondness and admiration. Surely it cannot be him. Godssakes he hasn’t even seen himself in two hundred years, who knows what kind of effect it’s had on his wrinkles. He tries not to dwell.

“I’m going to read.” Astarion says, when he can no longer stand the thought of just how many lines have been carved in his face, without the help of Cazador’s many painful instruments. Halsin simply nods, but continues searching his face. Astarion is unsure what he’s looking for, but is fairly certain, whatever it is, has long since left him. Nowadays he’s mostly bared teeth and vengeance more than anything.

“Please, go right ahead. If you would not protest, I would very much like to join you. I’ll whittle, stay quiet so you can focus. Would that be alright?” He tilts his head to the side, and, with the way he’s fiddling with a jar, seems so incredibly bear-like in the moment that Astarion has to clamp down on a giggle.

“… Alright. But you had better keep that promise to stay quiet.” Halsin grins, a warm, blinding thing.

“As a mouse. And we druids are rather good at mimicking animals, you know.”

A laugh punches itself from Astarion’s throat as he heads back to his tent and settles on some pillows, his most recent thick tome open in his lap.

It’s not long before Halsin is quietly announcing his presence, shuffling around to settle a few feet away, legs tucked up under him as he situates himself against the nearest surface- a stolen chest from one of the many towers they’d rummaged through.

It’s easy to forget he’s there- or, no, it’s easy to simply exist in a space with him. Astarion doesn’t feel the need to perform or prove anything to him- after all, he’s basically seen him at his worst- and the silence is warm. Interrupted, every so often, by the methodical scrape of metal against wood, or the crisp flipping of a page.

Before he can stop himself, Astarion’s fallen into another trance. This time blissfully devoid of any visions or memories.

He wakes to an empty tent, but his book is neatly bookmarked and stowed beside his bedroll. He, himself had been carefully tucked under a pelt of some sort- a piece he knew was not from his own tent- and next to the book lay a small, intricately carved wooden star. On the back, a careful engraving:

little star, how you shine

It feels like a declaration.

#if you couldnt tell im enamored with the idea of halsin carving lil trinkets for his bf #and astarion secretly loving them #very nascent (new word i learned from a commenter ily) romance #bg3 #astarion #halsin #halsin x astarion #halstarion #astarion ancunin #enjoy #no idea how long this is but oh well #happy halloween have gay people!!#tipsy scribbles #brublurbs

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