#Halloween Light up Banner
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coquettebeautiful · 3 months ago
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sailorrhansol · 2 months ago
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hi! long time reader, first time submit-er :) could i request a dilf!wonwoo fic where you’re trying to get your kids out the door to trick or treat with a friend or a family member because you and wonwoo have a halloween party and you get self conscious that you don’t look hot enough in your costume but wonwoo disagrees? very fluffy, maybe even smutty if that works for you hehe
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Pairing: Dad!Wonwoo x Mom!reader 
Summary: For the first Halloween in years, you and Wonwoo are able to enjoy it together without the kids. When you feel a little nervous about your costume, Wonwoo is determined to show you that you’ve always been the sweetest thing. 
Word Count: 2,278
Genre: Slice of Life, Married Couple/Parents
Type: Smut, Fluff
Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
Warnings: Light mentions of anxiety regarding letting kids go trick-or-treating without them, slight body insecurity and light mentions of a skirt not fitting comfortably, sexually explicit content including oral (f. receiving), vaginal fingering, spitting, hair pulling, stupid and corny during sex. 
A/N: Hey so anyway I’m not even that big of a fan of dilf-teen or parent-fic but here we are and I am ACTUALLY VERY INTERESTED IN DAD WONWOO NOW. SO THIS IS NOW YOUR FAULT THAT I’M THINKING ABOUT IT. Also the visual of Jihoon with a kid on his shoulders sent me into an early grave. 
A/N 2: PLEASE THE BANNER IS NERDY BUT THEY’RE DRESSED AS COWBOYS OK LMFAO
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.
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“Soonyoung, her crown!” You warn, watching as your friend smacks the plastic crown off Haen’s head. She doesn’t seem to notice, too busy digging her greedy little hands in the pocket of his tiger onesie where she knows she’ll find candy. “Are you sure you can do this?” 
Soonyoung scoffs. His outrage is lessened by the ridiculous tiger onesie he’s in, the suit zipped to the neck and the hood pulled up over his head. He’s got Iseul in his arms, cradling her in her dragon costume as she pulls on his hood while Haen reveals a Jolly Rancher. 
“Maybe we-”
Wonwoo’s hand on your lower back cuts you off as he steps through the door frame. He pitches his voice low and gentle as he crouches down, eye level with your eldest child. “Hey, no candy until after. We agreed, remember?” 
Pouting, she shoves the candy back inside Soonyoung’s pocket. Behind him, Jihoon and Jeonghan snort. “Yes, daddy. Sorry, I excited.” 
Mouth pressed firmly to hide your smile, you feel the overwhelming sense of love for her as she puts her hands behind her back, waiting patiently for Soonyoung to escort her down the steps and sidewalk to go trick-or-treating. 
“We’ll be fine,” Soonyoung assures, pouting as he takes Haen’s hand and spins around. Your other friends hold out the empty buckets made to be filled with candy. “We promised we had them, and we do!”
Wonwoo stands, hand sliding up your back as he does. “You remember where the key is?” 
“Yes, daddy,” Soonyoung calls over his shoulder. He passes Iseul to Jeonghan, who holds her far less precariously. “We’ll let you know when we’re back. Go out on the town or whatever it is parents with no kids do.” 
Children and parents line the streets. You watch your little group of friends with your two kids meander down the sidewalk, Jihoon immediately lifting Haeun to put her on his shoulders. Nerves eat away at you as they finally vanish from your line of vision, lost to the other swarms of trick-or-treaters and bobbing halloween lights hanging from trees. 
“Maybe we should-”
“Nope,” Wonwoo says gently, pulling you toward him. “They’ll do fine. Jihoon is with them, what could go wrong?”
Blowing out a sigh you nod, taking a moment to just drink him in. As much as he hates dressing up on Halloween, he’s done it again this year for you, dressed in the exact cowboy costume that you had put together for him. It’s less a costume than it is precariously picked clothes - the tan, suede button up and brown leather pants had already been in his closet, along with the belt and bolo tie. You’d just purchased the hat and the boots to complete the look.
And it is a look.
Wonwoo has always had the annoying ability to look good in whatever he wears. It doesn’t matter if he’s sitting on the couch in a shirt with juice stains from Iseul spilling her apple juice all over him or if he’s in a pressed suit at a company holiday party - he looks good in everything. 
Heading back inside, you catch yourself in the mirror near the entrance, tugging at your skirt a little. It’s a little higher and tighter than you remember, and the button digs into your stomach a bit more than you like. Chewing your lip, you quickly turn from the mirror, busying yourself in the kitchen looking for your car keys and purse.
Wonwoo follows you silently, leaning against the door frame as he watches you. His eyes are heavy on you, your stomach fluttering as you drop a credit card onto the floor. Cursing, you bend down to get it, feeling the skirt hug you tightly and restrict your movement for a second. 
“I’ve got it,” he says quietly, pushing off the wall.
“No, no,” you manage to peel it off the tile. “This damn skirt is so much tighter than it used to be. God.” Standing up again, you shove your card into the wallet, not meeting his eyes as he drifts toward you. “Maybe I should change.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just… I don’t know.”
“I think it looks fucking fantastic.” You roll your eyes, looking at him with a deadpan stare. His mouth twitches a little as he drops his gaze to the jean skirt in question. “You look fucking hot.” 
“We’re married. You have to say that.”
“Weird. I don’t remember that being in our vows.” 
“It definitely was.” You fiddle with the zipper on your wallet, nibbling on your bottom lip. “I think it was right after in sickness. It said and always tell your wife she’s hot.” 
His laugh is throaty and he reaches for you. You let him, his hands soft as he pulls you toward him by the waist. He smells like spicy cologne and something that is distinctly Wonwoo. Instead of looking up to meet his gaze, you focus on the pocket of his shirt, lifting your hands to fidget with it and press it flat.
“Baby,” he murmurs. You still don’t look up at him, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “I really like the skirt, but you can wear whatever you want.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Mhmm. It makes your legs look good. Not to mention…” One hand drifts from your hip to your ass, squeezing generously. Your breath catches and your eyes flick up to meet his. They’re dark, a playful edge to his gaze that you’re intimately familiar with. “You look good in everything to me.” 
“Hmm.”
“Hmm?” he imitates. Wonwoo’s fingers skim the edge of the skirt, brushing across your thighs. You shiver, clinging to him a little as your eyes flutter shut at the contact. You can feel your heart hammering in your chest as he says, “Want me to help you out of it?” 
The two of you have been together for nine years, married for six. You know every part of your best friend turned boyfriend turned husband. There is no corner of his heart he has left unturned to you, no thought that you cannot complete, no words he can speak that you don’t already know.
So when he asks if you want him to help you out of it you know what he’s asking you. He isn’t saying he’ll help you out and to pick out a new skirt. He isn’t asking you to change it. He doesn’t even want you to put the skirt back on, if his hungry gaze and the low pitch of his voice tells you anything. 
“I thought you wanted to go to the halloween party.”
His laugh comes out in a huff. “I’d like to get you out of that skirt more.” 
Wonwoo’s fingers curl around the edge of your skirt, a question. “Please.” 
Wonwoo has never denied you anything, and he doesn’t now. He spins you against the counter so that your hips are pressed to it, your back to his chest. He sinks his hands down your front, fingers deftly undoing the button. His hot breath is on your neck, his lips barely skimming your skin in an almost-kiss. 
Button popped, Wonwoo pulls the material open. Instead of rolling it down at the waist, his hand snakes into your skirt, pressing against your underwear as his mouth connects with your throat. You let out a breathy noise, melting in his arms as he presses his fingers to your clit over the silk of your underwear. 
“Oh,” you breath, going slack against him. He doesn’t mind, pinning you between him and the counter as he circles his fingers teasingly. He keeps his mouth busy, pressing wet kisses up your throat and toward your jaw. “Thought you wanted me out of it.” 
“I will,” he promises, nipping your jaw. You tilt your head to the side, giving him more access. The lower pit of your stomach burns with desire, sparking at his lazy touch. “Just wanted to touch first.”
“Slow ain’t your thing, cowboy?” 
“Nah, I’ve got a pretty thing that wants to take a ride.” 
Your laugh is cut off by a hiss, your head falling forward, as Wonwoo glides a finger down to press at your entrance. You feel your muscles clench, your stomach lurching as he teases you. A hand shoots to his wrist and you dig your fingers in, nails biting. 
“Be nice,” you warn sternly. 
“Mmm. You’re using your mommy voice.” 
“I wouldn’t have to if daddy was being nice.”
“Daddy says he’ll make up for it.” 
Daddy does. He always does. Wonwoo loves to tease you and make you beg for it, but he doesn’t now, fingers pulling your underwear to the side so he can stroke your pussy in full. He moans at the wetness he finds, hooking his chin over your shoulder to watch as he works his hand between your legs. 
Wonwoo’s fingers are deft and skillful, applying just the right pressure and stimulation to work you up. Your breath becomes stilted, feeling the ripples of pleasure as he gets you where he wants you. Pinned between him and the counter, you can’t move. Can’t squirm. Can’t buck your hands to meet his strokes when he sinks a finger into your cunt. 
“Fuck,” he rasps, pressing a messy kiss to your shoulder. “Like fucking silk.”
Heat creeps up your neck. You feel breathless under his attention, the heel of his palm pressing into your clit as Wonwoo leisurely fucks you with his finger, dragging it out only to slide up to your clit, circling gently. 
Your fingers dig into him as Wonwoo strings you along, enjoying the way your sounds turn airy and weak. He plays you perfectly, working you up until you feel your thighs twitching, eyes shut as you let him steer you toward your peak.
Wonwoo pulls his hand from your skirt, making you eyes fly open, mouth hanging open. Turning to yell at him over your shoulder, your words are lost as he drops to his knees, fingers yanking your skirt as he goes.
Cool air hits your legs as he taps your ankle, asking you to step out of the skirt. You do and he rewards you with a gentle kiss on the back of your thigh, his hands skimming up your legs. You feel the coolness wear his wet fingers leave a slick trail on your skin. 
Leaning forward, he plans another gentle kiss on the curve of your ass, making you laugh. He hums pleasantly, hands warm and explorative. He presses the small of your back gently, making you lean onto the counter, ass out. 
Delicately, he peels your underwear from your hips, tossing them somewhere else. His hands return to your legs, pressing gently to pry your thighs apart. He groans at your messy cunt, no doubt proud of his work. 
The marble countertop is freezing cold, ground you as you rest your cheek on it. You feel your chest heavy, holding your breath for a moment when Wonwoo leans forward and dips his tongue between your folds tentatively. 
“Soonyoung should take the kids more often,” Wonwoo notes, breath hitting you between the legs. You make a strangled sound, distracted by the way his fingers squeeze your thighs, digging into the meat of them. His tongue dips back in, dragging upward again. “Want to do this more.” 
“You - fuck - did this last night.” 
“Not with you bent over the counter and this pretty ass in my face.” His hand smacks your ass lightly, making you squeal. He laughs deep in his throat, a little bit of a groan as he mutters, “Exactly.” 
Wonwoo stops talking, mouth busy as he fastens his lips to your heat, sucking gently. He drives you insane, losing yourself in the way his tongue circles gently around your bundle of nerves. He alternates between tongue and lips, a shattering combination of heaven and hell as he works you toward an orgasm. 
His mouth isn’t the reason you fell in love with him, but as you start breaking apart, you think it might be a solid entry on the list of reasons. You reach back with one hand, knocking the hat off his head to tangle your fingers in his hair. He grunts, appreciative as he gives a particularly greedy suck, making your toes curl. 
“Fuck,” he mutters, breaking away for a second. His fingers peel you open and you moan when you feel him spit against your hole, clenching around nothing. “Who needs candy when I have the sweetest thing right here?”
“Wonwoo.” 
“You even melt in my mouth.”
“Wonwoo.”
He chuckles. “Yeah baby, I know.”
He always knows. He attaches his mouth back to you, slick and messy and loud as he works you to your orgasm. Your nails dig against his scalp - he doesn’t care. He lets you tug him further in, happy to press his face as close to your heat as possible. 
You press back into him, muscle clenching. You burst like a bubble, completely coming undone under his mouth as you come against him, face pressed to the counter. He pushes you through it, not letting you escape him when you try and wiggle away, tongue hot and hungry until you’re begging him to let up. 
Wonwoo pulls away, breathing heavily. His hands skate up and down your legs and suddenly you’re grateful your weight is all on the countertop, thighs totally useless. 
“God damn,” you pants, eyes shut.
“Yeah,” he agrees and stands. You feel him crowd you in, touch seeking your hips. “Catch your breath, partner. You still got a ride to go on.” 
-
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svtiddiess · 2 months ago
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Curiosity Killed The Cat Gets You Laid?
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Synopsis: It's Halloween night, and you're wandering through the woods you were always warned to stay far away from, searching for vampires. They say curiosity killed the cat, but no one mentioned it could also get you laid.
Pairing: vampire!Jeonghan x afab!reader x vampire!Wonwoo
Genre: suggestive, one shot, vampire! au, supernatural! au
Rating: suggestive/mature
Word count: 1.9k
Warnings: blood, injuries, vampires, dry humping, lemme me know if I missed anything!
Note: Happy Halloween! This is my first attempt at a vampire fic so please be nice.
Thank you so much to Indi @wongyuseokie for the amazing banner! She ate for real.
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Read on ao3
Reblogs are appreciated ♡
.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ
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October 31st, Halloween, the one day you look forward to all year. In this small, sleepy town where nothing ever happens, Halloween is the rare time when everything feels alive. It's ironic, really, that a holiday meant to honour the dead and the supernatural is the only time the town truly comes to life.
Although plenty of celebrations and parties are happening around town, your mind is elsewhere: vampires. Rumours about the woods on the edge of town have been swirling for years. Some say it's home to secret gold mines; others claim there's a hidden graveyard for those who have sinned way beyond redemption, and many point to the string of murders that have occurred there. But what really grabs your attention is the rumour that vampires live there.
You've been told time and time again never to step foot into the woods, but hey, you can't stop curiosity now, can you? And that's why here you are on Halloween night, making your way through the woods you've been told to stay far away from. You chose tonight for this journey because Halloween is when vampires are supposedly most active—at least, that's what the internet said. You're really hoping it wasn't wrong.
The crunch of leaves and the distant hooting of owls greet you as you step into the woods. A chill runs down your spine as you take in your surroundings—the darkness wrapping around the trees gives the forest an eerie, foreboding feel. The shadows twist into strange shapes, making you glance over your shoulder and double-check your surroundings more often than usual.
You mentally curse yourself for not bringing a proper flashlight; your phone flashlight does the bare minimum to light the surroundings. After several minutes of walking, you stop in your tracks. You could swear you've passed this same tree four times already—or is it a different one? Damn, you might be lost.
'This might've been a stupid idea,' you think.
In too deep to back out now, you proceed to go further into the woods, a very bad idea, but your stubbornness overpowers your voice of reason a lot of the time. A sudden howl piercing through the sky stops you in your tracks. Wolves? No, that can't be. You must’ve misheard—it was probably just the wind, you tell yourself. But then, another howl echoes through the woods. Okay, wolves. Definitely wolves.
Quickening your pace, you decide to retrace your steps, hoping that will eventually lead you back to society. As you try to find your way out of the woods, you hear footsteps, multiple footsteps, heading toward you. Not wanting to risk a run-in with wolves, you take off running.
Unfortunately for you, you were never much of an athlete, so you end up tripping over a rock and falling, cutting your palm on the jagged ground. Cursing out loud, you pick yourself up and observe the cut; it was fairly deep, and blood continuously started to pour out of it, staining your hand. You frown and squeeze your hand, hoping to stop the blood from flowing.
Okay, now you definitely need to get out of the woods. If the wolves don’t get you, the inevitable infection from your wound will (though you’re being a bit dramatic). Frowning, you continue to head to where you think you came from.
Stumbling aimlessly through the eerie forest, you suddenly come upon a massive mansion. It looks like something straight out of the Victorian era, with towering spires, gothic architecture, and plenty of decay to match. Your small flashlight barely does it justice, making it hard to fully appreciate the mansion's haunting beauty.
Could this be it…? Remembering the whole reason you ventured into the woods, you head inside the mansion. You're determined to encounter at least one vampire tonight.
The heavy wooden doors groan as you push them open. You take a deep breath as you absorb the sight of the eerie mansion. Inside is a stark contrast to the exterior; it feels much more cohesive, with relatively recent furniture and a sense that the place isn’t falling apart.
The air stilled. It became quiet, too quiet. The only sound you can hear is the beating of your own heartbeat ringing in your ears. Gulping, you shakily make your way towards what you assume is the fireplace. It was dark, perfectly in line with the gothic theme that enveloped the entire building.
Above you hung a large portrait of two men, hauntingly beautiful, with pale, almost white skin and dark maroon eyes that seemed to pierce through you. Their jet-black hair framed their faces perfectly. They wore white blouses that you assume are from the Victorian era, adorned with very expensive jewellery. One man was slightly shorter than the other, but his looks would put any model to shame; his longer hair framed his face beautifully, making you think, "a fallen angel". The taller man had shorter hair and more sharper features, yet he appeared just as ethereal. His mesmerising eyes seemed to draw you in, almost as if they were sucking your soul. Another striking feature was their lips, a deep red, almost as rich as their eyes.
"Damn, if these guys are the vampires, then I wouldn't mind getting my blood sucked by them," you muse out loud.
"Oh really now?" A voice purred next to your ear. You whip your head around to see who it is, only to be greeted with nothing.
"W-Who was that?!" You shout, cursing under your breath as your voice comes out shakier than you'd like.
"I’m sure you already know who, bunny," a voice whispers from behind. You spin around, but there's only darkness.
"I-I know how to fight!" You yell, trying to sound confident.
"Ooh, a fighter. I like that," a deeper voice purrs, this time right next to you.
Suddenly, your phone is snatched from your hand, plunging you into complete darkness. Panicking, you throw punches into the air, hoping to hit something—anything—but you freeze when a hand catches your fist.
"She really is a fighter, Wonwoo," the first voice chuckles; even his laughter seems to have a surreal feel to it. You hear another low chuckle from behind, which you assume is Wonwoo.
Wonwoo then wraps his arms around your waist, plunges his nose into the crook of your neck, and takes a long whiff.
"You smell absolutely divine, doll," he moans; you can't help but shiver at his actions.
Suddenly, the room flickers to life with candlelight, making the already creepy mansion even more eerie. You can now see the man standing before you, and you gasp; it's the same man from the portrait, the one with the longer hair.
He gently uncurls your injured fist, running his tongue slowly along the wound, and lets out a moan. Your breath catches at the sight, and you can't help but shiver at his actions.
"She likes that, Jeonghan," chuckles Wonwoo. You blush at Wonwoo's words, embarrassed cause it's true.
"You want this just as bad, don't you, bunny?" Jeonghan purrs before licking another stripe up your palm, causing you to let out a soft whimper.
"Don't even try and deny it, doll; we can hear your heartbeat," whispers Wonwoo before licking the shell of your ear.
You gulp, your mouth dry as sandpaper, and your heartbeat thunders in your ears. Sure, you came into the woods hoping to encounter vampires, but now that they're standing right before you, you're unsure what to do. They're so alluring, their very presence making your head spin.
Wonwoo leans down, gently nipping at the skin of your neck, making your heart lurch. You can feel him smirk against your skin.
"It has been a while since we had a blood servant," he mumbles against your skin. Jeonghan hums, a small smirk painting his face.
"What do you say, bunny? Want to become our blood servant?" Jeonghan purrs.
You open and close your mouth like a fish out of water, completely at a loss for words. Yes? No? If you say yes, are you doomed to serve them until death? If you say no, will they kill you on the spot? Your mind races, spinning with uncertainty. Maybe coming out here wasn't such a good idea after all.
"Looks like our little bunny is unsure," snickers Jeonghan.
"How about we give you a taste, then?" Wonwoo whispers before sinking his teeth into your neck.
You gasp and freeze, paralysed by the sudden sharp prick. You brace yourself for intense pain, but instead, you're flooded with overwhelming pleasure. It feels as though every nerve in your body is igniting, sending wave after wave of pleasure through you. Your arousal soaks your panties, and you can already feel it sticking to your skin. You've never experienced anything like this before—nothing even close. You close your eyes, savouring the sensation as your head spins. It feels like you're floating.
"I can smell your arousal from here, bunny. Does it feel good?" Smirks Jeonghan, you can only whimper in response.
"Barely drunk from you, and you're already dripping," Wonwoo chuckles against your neck.
He spins you around to face him, and you instinctively lick your lips as you take him in. Deep maroon eyes with a piercing gaze, skin so pale it's almost white, making his blood-stained lips stand out even more. He looks at you with a smirk.
He cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours, letting you taste your own blood—metallic and tangy. You melt into the kiss, already addicted to the way his lips feel against yours. Desperate for more, you press up against Wonwoo and start grinding against him. You can feel Wonwoo smirk into the kiss; Jeonghan chuckles at your actions.
"If you become our blood servant, I can guarantee you pleasure beyond what you've ever felt, bunny," hums Jeonghan.
Pulling away from the kiss, you turn toward Jeonghan; your mind clouded with thoughts of them and nothing else. Any sense of reason is long gone. Without a second thought, you agree—you'd say yes to anything at this point.
"Good choice, bunny," smirks Jeonghan before effortlessly carrying you. You gasp and wrap your arms and legs around him.
He sinks his teeth into your neck and starts drinking your blood. You let out a moan at the euphoric feeling washing over your body. Maybe it's because you're already lightheaded from the first time, but this feels ten times more intense. It's as if you've died and gone to heaven, but what's happening is far from heavenly.
Your whole body trembles, and you feel like you have just had an orgasm. You whine out Jeonghan's name as you feel him squeeze your ass. He detaches his lips from your neck and runs his tongue over the bite mark; you shiver at his actions.
Panting, you glance down at the vampire. His pupils are blown wide, lips stained with blood, and a smirk curling on his face. You catch a glimpse of his sharp canines as he watches you.
"We're lucky to have caught such a pretty blood servant," smirks Wonwoo, causing Jeonghan to chuckle.
"Let's take care of the aching between your thighs," hums Jeonghan. "I bet you want to be filled up with our cocks, right bunny?"
"I bet she can take both of us at once," chuckles Wonwoo, causing you to clench around nothing.
"Let's find out, shall we?" Jeonghan smirks before heading toward what you assume is their bedroom.
And that's how, on Halloween night, you became a blood servant—bound to serve the two vampires for the rest of your life.
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cherienymphe · 1 year ago
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I Know What You Did Last Summer (Rafe Cameron x Reader)
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WARNINGS: NON-CON, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHS, MURDER, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, BLOOD, KNIFEPLAY, STALKING, ANGST, voyeurism, underage drinking, JJ x reader, pogue!reader
➥ Happy Halloween weekend!
➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ​​​​​​​​|  ➥ divider by @/kimjiho1
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summary: When your friends start dying one by one, you're not exactly honest when the police ask if you know of anyone who'd want to hurt them. You do...but he's dead. You know this because you buried him.
~
You stared out into the water, a rare morning in which you woke up early enough to watch the sun rise over Outer Banks. This time last year, you might’ve tried to catch a wave or two, a way for you to often escape and clear your head. However, the problems of last year were gone and there was nothing left for you to escape from.
No one left for you to escape from.
Your gaze fell to the dock beneath your feet, eyes glazing over as memories of a tumultuous relationship plagued your thoughts. The memory of bruised skin and aching limbs made you shudder, wrapping your arms around yourself, the cool North Carolina breeze having nothing to do with it. You tensed for half a second at the sound of a familiar voice on the wind before realizing that you were only imagining it as you often did these days.
Some days you thought you were going crazy, but then you reminded yourself that no sane person could do what you did and walk away with no baggage whatsoever. Then again, it could be argued that no sane person could do what you did period. Thoughts of that night left a sour taste in your mouth, and for the past year, you constantly worried if you did the right thing. It didn’t matter if you did or didn’t because it wasn’t like you could take it back, but still…
Analyzing your past decisions made you feel less like a sociopath or something.
When you heard your mom calling you from the house, you pulled yourself away from the water. Your dad was just heading out for work, and he exchanged a quick hug with you on the way to his truck. You could tell that your 180 within the past year stumped them, but it was in that good way that always sparked a bunch of compliments—you’re so much happier or you’re talking more or you’re around a lot more.
The difference was noticeable to anybody who knew you…and everyone knew why.
Even if they didn’t want to say it.
“You know I leave for work in a little bit, but I put some bacon in the oven, and I just wanted you to know so you could take it out.”
You smiled at her, leaning against the counter.
“We’ll see how long it lasts once JJ gets here,” you told her.
Your tone was mocking, but you both knew you were entirely serious. After telling her that you might be staying at Kie’s tonight, you bid her goodbye, gaze focused on the oven as you checked the bacon. You knew it wouldn’t be long before half of your friends burst through that door, and so you didn’t hesitate to take it out the moment it looked like it was done.
It was when you were placing the pan on the stove top…when you heard it.
It was a light thump that came from the back of the house, and you paused with a frown. It was hardly anything—could’ve easily been a limb falling out of a tree or something—if it wasn’t for the fact that it sounded like it came from inside of the house. Your frown deepened the longer you stood there, listening some more without success. With reluctance, you wrote it off, and you only just relaxed when you felt hands on your shoulders.
“Jesus!”
You pressed your hand to your chest, frowning over your shoulder as both a familiar blond and brunette made themselves comfortable at your table. You hadn’t even heard them pull up, oblivious even to the door opening.
“No, JJ,” the voice behind you corrected with a chuckle, and you rolled your eyes.
“Hilarious,” you commented. “I didn’t even hear you guys come in.”
“Kind of figured when you grabbed your chest just then,” Sarah said with a small smile. “What were you looking at, anyway?”
Her question reminded you of the noise, and realizing that it was probably them you heard, you shrugged.
“Thought I heard something, but it was just you guys.”
By now, JJ had joined them, leaning back in a chair.
“You’re still coming to Rose’s little ‘fall festivity’ right? Somehow Wheezie got out of going by talking our dad into letting her go to a sleepover instead, and I don’t really wanna be alone.”
Her words quieted some near the end, a brief awkward silence as your eyes met hers, both of you ignoring the obvious.
“Of course,” you assured her. “I told my mom I’d probably be staying at Kie’s since it’s closer to your house. Knowing Rose, this thing could go on all night.”
Sarah agreed with that, interrupting John B and JJ’s conversation.
“You can still change your mind, you know,” she told him with a pout, bumping his shoulder with her own.
The face he made was answer enough, and she huffed.
“Besides, even if I wanted to, I’m sure Ward would be thrilled about that,” her boyfriend mumbled.
“You know he’s better, now. He’s not so against you ever since…”
Your best friend trailed off, and your gaze found the floor just as all of theirs traveled to you. The silence was short—not so much awkward—but definitely far from light. You all knew what Sarah was going to say, how Ward stopped caring about so many superficial things. How he was the kind of man who focused on things that actually mattered, now.
He was the kind of man who carried grief, now.
…and it changed him for both the better and the worst.
“I’m going to go and grab my purse and change of clothes. Bacon’s all yours,” you mostly said to JJ, quick to leave the room.
Once inside your room, your eyes landed on your mirror, gaze lingering on the bare space where dozens of pictures used to be. It had been a little over a year since you’d taken them down, but sometimes, when you recalled the happier times before it all went up in flames, you missed them. You missed looking at them when you did your makeup or even just lingering on them when you were on the phone.
Chest aching for so many reasons, you forced yourself to turn away.
It was as you were grabbing your purse and the extra bag with your dress for tonight did you glance up. You blinked at your window, a small frown forming between your brows. Approaching it, you reached out, slowly pulling it back down and locking it shut, desperately trying to remember if you’d even let it up the night before.
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“I swear to God, Rose is about to lose her shit,” Sarah chuckled from next to you. “She bought that dress months ago for this stupid party only for her to show up wearing the same one.”
You sipped on your drink that you were definitely not supposed to be having, a light laugh of your own escaping. The little soiree was everything Sarah said it would be, and you could see why Wheezie took the opportunity to bail. It wasn’t Halloween yet, but like every year—or almost every year—Rose was having a series of parties leading up to the last night in October. You were just about to drag Sarah to the kitchen in search of those little finger sandwiches when a loud clanging noise caught everyone’s attention.
Ward stood in the center of the living room when you looked over.
The older man had a glass in his hand and was setting down a fork with the other. You couldn’t get over how much he’d changed in a year, and something in your chest ached, guilt eating at you. There was a small smile on his lips, but the rest of his expression didn’t exactly match up. Somehow, you knew that you weren’t going to like whatever he had to say.
“Um…sadly, we weren’t blessed to partake in one of Rose’s fabulous get togethers last year…”
You swallowed at the way the mood in the room seemed to sink, and you didn’t need to look over to find Sarah glancing at you.
“As you all know, my only son Rafe went missing around this time a year ago.”
Somber murmurs filled the room, and your hand tightened on your drink. Tuning Ward out, the only thing you heard was white noise, probably missing another tangent about how he wished he’d been less hard on him and had done more to heal their relationship before he had to file that missing person’s report that fateful morning.
Crossing your arms over your chest, you fought to keep a frown off of your face.
Memories of dark blond hair and intense blue eyes plagued your mind, making your stomach turn. If Ward’s memories with Rafe were less than fond, then yours were absolutely gut-wrenching. The hairs on your arm stood on end as you thought about the last time you’d seen your ex-boyfriend, and you felt your feet carrying you down the stairs just as Sarah reached for you.
The backyard was empty when you made it outside, and the fresh air did so little to calm you down.
You could hear the blood rushing in your ears at the thought of Rafe, a cold chill passing through you. With a huff, you stepped out of your heels, tears kissing your eyes as you thought about Ward in there giving some grand speech about Rafe and their relentless efforts to find him. You were pulled out of it by the sound of your name, and you wiped your face, oblivious to the fact that some tears had even spilled over.
Sarah’s sympathetic gaze met yours when you turned around.
“Are you okay…?” she whispered, and you sniffed.
“What do you think?” you lightly wondered, a humorless chuckle escaping as you shrugged. “Who knew that a felony was all it took for Rafe to finally get the love he always wanted.”
Your words were scathing, and Sarah slowly approached you, reaching for you.
“Hey…hey,” she repeated until you looked at her. “You’re safe, now. Rafe can’t ever hurt you ever again.”
While those words brought you comfort, they did nothing to diminish your anger.
“It’s not…fair,” you breathed, shaking your head. “He was nothing short of a monster to me…and they talk about him, now, like he was some angel come to earth.”
You knew it bothered Sarah too—she was there that night after all—and she sighed. The blonde pulled you into a hug, holding you tight and rubbing your back. You sometimes wondered if her feelings on the matter were as black and white as yours. Rafe was her brother, after all, and despite their less than enviable relationship, she had to have still loved him.
“Do you think they’ll ever find him?”
You said the words so quietly, as if paranoid someone would hear despite the fact that you were alone. Sarah tensed for half a second, probably because for the first time in months, you were explicitly talking about what you did that night—what all four of you did. She pulled away, gaze somber and resolved all at once.
“It’s been a year,” she said as if that were answer enough. “…turns out the police are even more useless than we all thought.”
You swallowed, and Sarah fought to calm you.
“If they haven’t found him by now then…”
She trailed off with a shrug, but you weren’t so convinced. While plenty of people got away with murder, plenty of others did not, and it didn’t matter that Rafe’s temper had escalated so badly one night until it came down to your life or his. Nobody would care that he used to threaten you and choke you and harm you so bad that you could barely walk sometimes. They wouldn’t care about any of that.
All that would matter was that he was Rafe Cameron, Ward Cameron’s son.
…and you’d killed him.
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John B was the first to die.
…and maybe that was why the horrible truth didn’t even cross your mind then.
Your sleep-addled brain fought hard to make sense of the words pouring out of Cleo’s mouth, and despite how unbelieving they were, the feminine wails you could hear in the background told you they were true whether you wanted them to be or not. Sarah’s choked sobs were the last thing you heard before Cleo was forced to hang up.
You didn’t even remember throwing on clothes, only knowing that you somehow managed to leave the house looking halfway decent.
When you made it to the hospital, Sarah was nowhere to be found.
“She was…” Kie trailed off, shaking her head. “They had to give her something.”
You took in the way Kiara was shaking, and unable to keep standing, she collapsed in a chair. You wanted to ask her what happened, but you could see it on her face that she couldn’t handle that, right now. Her eyes were shiny and glazed over, and she looked like she was going to be sick. She looked like she could barely even breathe.
“What…? I don’t…”
You couldn’t get it out, feeling wholly numb as your gaze met Cleo’s. The dark-skinned girl ran her hands down her face, her own gaze tearful.
“They found him in the water, man.”
Her soft words made your heart sink, and you frowned.
“Said he got tangled up somehow… Drowned.”
At that, you did finally sit down, reaching out to hold the armrest. Somehow, any other cause of death would’ve made it feel less real, preposterous maybe. You just couldn’t see John B. dying at the hands of some asshole or choking on his food or run down like a dog in the street.
…but drowning?
John B. dying in the water—a place he loved and often frequented—made sense.
That you could believe.
“Pope and JJ are on the way,” Kie mumbled so low you almost didn’t hear her.
Nothing about any of this felt real. It was only yesterday that you were talking to John B., tossing a beer at his head after some slick remark. You couldn’t quite process that you’d never be able to do that again. Your best friend was gone. Sarah’s boyfriend was gone, and you wouldn’t see nor talk to him again. It didn’t make sense, and maybe that lack of reason was what kept you numb, kept you staring at the white floors of the hospital until two familiar figures made themselves known.
It wasn’t until your eyes lifted and met JJ’s did it really hit you.
The pain in his face from losing the friend he’d known practically since birth seeped into you too, and you were on your feet before JJ’s legs could fail him. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight for both of your sakes, and your tears finally spilled over when you felt JJ’s hitting your skin.
You never really saw JJ cry much—it just wasn’t like him. You didn’t know if that was just the way he was or if he took it upon himself to be the obligatory goofy friend who was almost always in a good mood. Today, however, JJ cried harder than you’d ever seen him, the death of his best friend a thousand times worse than anything Luke could do to him.
He held you like a lifeline, even well into the night when everyone was forced to retreat to their homes, nothing more anyone could do. Even if JJ could find some comfort in his own home, you wouldn’t dare ask him to, feeling that same refusal to be alone. You had only been able to shake your head at your mom when she came to see if you wanted—needed—anything.
You didn’t miss the way her sad and heavy gaze fell to JJ in your arms, the blond boy sobbing into your chest as you held him on your bed.
Neither of you talked for what felt like days. There really wasn’t much to say, anyway. On the off chance that JJ moved, it was purely to use the bathroom or eat something that would keep him off the brink of starvation. You couldn’t really tell if you were handling it better than him or if you were just coping in an equally unhealthy way.
There was just this understanding that grief had kind of taken both of your voices.
JJ leaned on you throughout the entirety of John B.’s funeral, and when your eyes met Pope’s, you shook your head at the silent question in his dark eyes. They flitted to JJ at that, and you weren’t surprised to see them holding each other at the end of the service. John B. was like a brother to both of them, and maybe they could help each other in ways the rest of you couldn’t.
“Why was he out there so late?”
That was what Kie wondered as you all sat at The Chateau, still fighting to understand your new reality without John B. only hours after his funeral.
“We all always go swimming whenever,” you told her, and she shook her head.
“…but never that late…and if so, never alone,” she argued, looking at all of you. “They think he died around one in the morning. There was no alcohol or anything in his system. Why would John B. be out there at one in the morning?”
“What does it matter?” JJ spat, making you flinch. “Why are we sitting here trying to analyze this when John B. is dead? Huh?”
Kie looked taken aback, and you could see her mentally reminding herself that JJ was in pain.
“I’m just saying-.”
“No, I know what you’re trying to do.”
The blond was standing, now, angrily staring down at her.
“Trying to make sense of this, trying to find something or someone to blame because that’s easier to swallow than the truth,” he nastily threw at her. “John B.’s death doesn’t make sense…and sometimes that’s just life.”
He stormed off before anyone could respond, and you swallowed at the sound of his bike starting up. You took Kie’s hand at the sight of her forlorn expression, gently squeezing it and sending her a smile. JJ was angry, probably angrier than any of you, and he wasn’t keen on how Kie was trying to deal with it either. The silence after he left was thick, and you felt almost afraid to speak your mind too, because now that Kie had said it, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.
It didn’t make sense for John B. to be out in the water that late.
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You shouldn’t have been surprised when JJ kissed you only a few days after John B.’s funeral, but you were.
You all were grieving, and besides Sarah who hadn’t left her home in days, JJ wasn’t coping well. He was so angry and confused and hurt, and truthfully, you’d just been happy he wasn’t going off on some bender or starting fights. He didn’t exactly grow up with the best example on how to cope with anything, and so when he pressed his lips to yours on your front porch, you could only think that there were worse ways to handle this.
Your breathing was uneven as he ran his hands over you, backing you up into your house. Your parents weren’t home, adulthood stopping for no one in the midst of tragedy, and you held onto JJ to keep from tripping over your own feet. You’d wondered what it’d feel like to kiss JJ sometimes, but only ever in passing, and you could count the number of times on one hand. It was bound to happen at least once or twice when you were friends for as long as you had been.
The kiss was rough but not unenjoyable, and you moaned into his mouth when your back met your couch. To your surprise, you liked the feel of JJ’s body on yours, keeping you trapped between him and the couch, and the blond sighed into the kiss when your fingers ran up his back, dipping beneath his shirt. When his lips ghosted along your jaw, your gaze landed on the ceiling, and you arched your chest up into his. His lips were pressing open mouth kisses to your throat, and when your gaze roamed—landing on the window behind him—you violently flinched.
“What’s wrong-?”
JJ cut his own words off when you sat up, lips parted as you stared at the window.
It was dark, and the longer you stared outside, the sillier you felt. Your heart was racing so fast—much too fast—and for a moment, you were scared you were having a heart attack. You felt overheated, and your skin was fighting to get back to normal instead of clammy. JJ said your name again, and you merely shook your head at him, struggling to stop your hands from trembling and your vision from swaying.
For just a moment, you could’ve sworn that someone was outside and standing right outside of that window. It was brief, quite literally a ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ moment, but it wasn’t solely that that had you fighting to calm down, right now. You reached up, rubbing your chest and blinking back tears, hardly paying attention to JJ’s concern.
The way the person stood—their height, their build, their stance—it was all too familiar.
It looked eerily similar to your ex-boyfriend.
That thought had you standing, and you pressed your hand to your forehead. A few tears escaped without your consent, and you licked your lips, finally admitting to yourself why this whole John B. situation had you numb. The thought of John B. now had your chest aching, and for a brief moment, you weren’t seeing your best friend be lowered into the ground.
It was Rafe.
“Are you okay…?”
You finally acknowledged JJ, and you looked at him with a tearful gaze.
“No, I don’t think I am,” you choked out. “It’s not…it’s not your fault, I promise.”
“I shouldn’t have done that-.”
“No, JJ, it’s okay! You didn’t do anything wrong,” you assured him. “I’m just not handling this as well as I thought I was.”
He seemed to understand that, nodding at you.
The silence wasn’t tense or anything, but it was a little awkward. After all, one moment you and JJ were clearly about to have sex, and now, you couldn’t get rid of the cold chill that came over you. You glanced at the window again, so sure that you’d seen someone there, only looking away when JJ pulled you down to sit with him.
“You know I like you,” he whispered, making your eyes widen a bit. “Well, now you know.”
You blinked at him, oddly thinking that whatever this was tonight was some combination of grief and loneliness and the result of a violent confrontation with his own mortality. JJ ran his hand through his blond locks, sighing.
“First it was the whole Pogue on Pogue thing,” he said to which you snorted, recalling the day Pope and Cleo waltzed into The Chateau holding hands. “…then it was Rafe.”
You looked down at that, tightening your arms around yourself at the mention of your ex.
“Then Rafe went missing, and it didn’t seem right even though you didn’t seem…sad about it.”
You swallowed at that, a wet and muddy night coming to mind.
“…but now my best friend is dead, and I’m scared that if I wait another minute, it’ll be too late.”
Your gaze softened at that, looking at him, and it really didn’t take you long to realize that deep down you’d liked JJ too. You first noticed the feeling after the third or fourth time Rafe had hit you, and you just remembered thinking that JJ would never. You hadn’t lingered on it, but now you were wishing you had. Maybe if you felt like you had a way out, you would’ve left Rafe sooner. The relationship might not have continued.
…and that night never would’ve happened.
With the death of John B., you understood exactly what JJ meant. John B. hadn’t been some old man pushing ninety who lived this long and fulfilling life. He was eighteen, unable to even get the chance to start. It was unexpected and heartbreaking but most of all scary, so when you took the blonde’s hand, you didn’t hesitate to pull him closer, pressing your lips to his.
You had no idea that while taking the first step with JJ into the second relationship you’d ever have, Pope’s body was being dumped in the water.
When you all collectively made the decision the next morning to go and see Sarah, no one thought too much of it when Pope didn’t answer. Sarah was allowed her solitude to grieve, you felt she was owed that, but none of you wanted your friend to deal with this alone for too long. Considering how early it was, everyone just assumed that he was still asleep when you decided to meet up.
JJ—now in the possession of the Twinkie—made the decision to slow down at the sight of so many squad cars near the water. It was strange, and there was a sinking feeling in your stomach that you just couldn’t shake. Outer Banks was not without its fair share of crime, but you’d never had the misfortune of witnessing a coroner’s van pull up to the scene.
“What do you think that’s about?” Cleo wondered.
You spoke without thinking.
“Call Pope again.”
You could feel several pairs of eyes on you as you looked out of the window, and there was a beat of silence before they all reached for their phones at once. That twisted feeling only tightened when none of them got an answer. You didn’t voice your thoughts, partly because you didn’t want to be the one to, but you also didn’t want to make them true, somehow.
…but they were true whether you said them aloud or not.
You’d never been inside of an interrogation room—or Kildare County’s version of one, anyway. You never thought you would be, but in this moment, you were thinking of a lot of things you never thought would be. Shoupe—a man you’d grown used to seeing all your life—handed you a cup of water, and your fingertips only grazed it as it sat on the table.
With the discovery that Pope was now dead too, the numbness you’d felt was forced to crack and shatter. While Cleo had to be restrained and held back from ambushing the crime scene, you’d been unable to keep upright, collapsing right there on the side of the road. The entire gruesome debacle had attracted a crowd. After all, Outer Banks just wasn’t used to this, and several people tried to help you remain conscious—namely JJ.
You didn’t even remember breaking down, didn’t even remember being approached by the cops. You actually could barely remember a thing after witnessing a familiar body being pulled from the murky water. You knew that you cried, had to, because your eyes were tight. You knew that you screamed because your throat was raw. You knew these things because of how you felt…not because you actually remembered any of it.
Shoupe’s sigh made you blink, and instead of laying on the side of that road, you were surrounded by four walls.
“Do you know of…anyone who’d want to hurt Heyward’s son?”
His words gave you pause, and you lifted your gaze with a deep frown.
“…what?” you choked out after some time.
His gaze was soft—Pope was your friend and he’d watched you both grow up as thick as thieves—but also inquiring. You watched him briefly lick his lips, sighing to himself as he pressed a hand to his forehead. He seemed to be conflicted, having some kind of internal battle before reaching out to you across the table.
“Pope was dead before he was in the water.”
You merely blinked at him, not quite processing his words.
“Someone…someone cut his throat.”
At that, your vision blurred, and you could see on Shoupe’s face that he was predicting what was about to happen before you even tried to stand. The older man reached for you again, attempting to keep you from falling, but your feet tripped over one another as your legs lost their strength. When your knees hit the hard floor, your brain didn’t even register the pain.
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Burying two friends within two weeks of each other was something you would’ve never predicted. Not until you were in your seventies, at least. It felt like the opposite of unreal. It felt too real because all you could feel was pain. It was numbing and excruciating all at once somehow, and having the whole town look at you like some walking magnet for tragedy didn’t help.
In truth, all of your friends got the stares. Two out of the group were gone—one drowned and one brutally murdered—and people looked at the rest of your friends like they didn’t know what to think of them…but you? Oh, they looked at you like they both feared and hated you, and you knew why.
It was only a year ago that your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—had gone missing, and now two of your friends met the same fate everyone suspected Rafe did. There was something in their eyes that held blame, and you might have found it funny if you weren’t so angry and sad and miserable.
You were only responsible for one of them.
“No fingerprints, no footprints, no nothing,” Kie whispered, angrily. “It’s like Pope was just killed and dumped by a ghost.”
JJ was silent as he stared out into the rich girl’s yard, and you worriedly eyed him. Cleo too. It’s not like any of you were doing okay, but JJ had lost the two people he was closest to in the world, and Cleo was now in the same boat as Sarah. It was then that the blonde girl shifted, a noise leaving her throat that had you all looking over.
“Do I have to be the one to say what we’re all thinking?”
She looked between you all with a heavy gaze, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.
“That John B.’s accident wasn’t an accident…?”
Your lips parted at that, and you looked around to see that no one else had expected that either. No one else but Kie who simply wrapped her arms around herself. You recalled her words from last week, how she’d questioned why John B. was even out on the water that late. JJ had been so quick to shut it down, and despite having the same question as Kie, you’d also forced yourself to let it go.
You hadn’t wanted to fathom that someone had killed John B.
“Now, hold on-.”
“Oh, come on, JJ!” Sarah cried. “John B. drowns at one something in the morning, and a week later one of his best friends is murdered?”
You swallowed, hating this conversation.
“This is too coincidental,” she whispered, wiping her face.
The silence was loud as her accusation—and the implications that came with it—just hung in the air. You all looked between each other, and you could see it then. It was sinking in that this was too much of a coincidence, and Cleo spoke up.
“Why would anyone want to hurt them?”
“I think you mean why would anyone want to hurt us,” Kie threw out, and you all froze. “If someone did kill John B. and that same person killed Pope…isn’t it safe to assume they’re working their way through the group?”
You stood, really hating this conversation now, and stared out into the yard.
“I mean, what? Only John B. and Pope happened to piss this person off?”
“That’s even if what you’re saying is true,” JJ argued, visibly disturbed, now. “I mean, think about this. Who the hell did all of us piss off this damn bad? Huh? That doesn’t make any sense.”
It was then that your gaze met Cleo’s, and something passed through her eyes that you also knew passed through yours. You didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that the other girl was thinking about that night, recalling a bloodstained carpet and shovels that would never see the light of day. Your lips parted as your gaze lowered, and feeling like you might be sick, you sat down. No. There was nothing you could think of that all of you had done to collectively anger someone this much. However, there was something that came to mind that four of you had done.
…but Rafe was dead.
He’d been dead for a year, and so what Cleo was obviously thinking was clearly not possible.
Even with that fact, it still didn’t prevent you from being terrified, and it was no surprise that none of you wanted to be alone. Even if John B.’s accident was just that, someone had still killed Pope, and Outer Banks now had a murderer in their midst. If people looked at you with disdain before, then it was nothing in comparison to when a curfew was enforced.
“First it was Rafe…”
You tensed at the sound of the voice.
“…then John B. and now Pope.”
You cut your eyes to Kelce as he walked by you.
“We don’t need a curfew. What we need is to search your damn house,” he sneered, turning his back to you as he strode away.
You crossed your arms over your chest as you waited for Sarah to exit the shop. You knew that Kelce wasn’t alone in his sentiment. It was only just the day before when your eyes had met Topper’s, the blonde’s gaze unreadable despite the clenching of his jaw. Topper was never the kind of guy to evoke intimidation, but that was before he thought you had something to do with the disappearance of his best friend.
When Rafe went missing, you were questioned. It was expected. After all, you weren’t just his girlfriend but also the girlfriend who everyone knew he would literally get crazy about. Your rocky off-and-on relationship was no secret, so naturally you were the first to be brought in. The police hadn’t been able to find anything though, not then and not for the past year, so any suspicions anyone might’ve had were probably long forgotten about.
Until now.
The only difference was that now not only did they think you killed Rafe, but also your best friends.
“They’re assholes. You know that,” Sarah told you as she drove you back to her place.
The Cameron household was where you’d been staying when you weren’t at home with JJ. Ever since that night, something in you felt wrong about accepting the Cameron’s hospitality and even setting foot into their house. That night was complicated, this much was true, but the fact remained that you were responsible for their pain. Ward would never be reunited with his son because of you.
Smiling in their faces and eating at their table left a sour feeling in your gut.
“…but I did kill Rafe,” you whispered.
Sarah glanced at you at that.
“We all did,” she finally said. “…and it wasn’t like that. He was choking you, he was…he was killing you. It was self-defense.”
“Yeah, I’m sure the cops will think rolling him up and burying him in the woods was self-defense,” you scoffed.
Sarah was parked in her yard, now, and she gripped your arm. Her expression was hard as she stared at you, lips pressed together.
“Stop that,” she bit out. “Rafe… Rafe wasn’t going to stop. We had no choice, and do I sometimes wish things had ended differently for him and for us? Yeah. Even the most estranged of siblings don’t actually want to kill each other, but what’s done is done.”
She looked between your eyes, and you swallowed, recalling that silent conversation with Cleo. You licked your lips, touching your forehead and swallowing down a sigh.
“What if it’s not done?” you wondered, almost inaudibly.
When you looked at Sarah again, there was a frown on her face.
“We definitely know of someone who’d want us dead,” you whispered, and you watched the color drain from Sarah’s face.
“…and he’s dead.”
“…but what if he’s not?” you choked out. “What if…? I mean, sure, there was blood and we hit him twice and we buried him, but what if-.”
“Stop,” Sarah breathed, resting her hands on the wheel. “Stop talking.”
“Sarah-.”
“I said stop!”
The blonde girl looked visibly distressed, eyes wide and lips trembling as she stared ahead.
“We killed him. He’s dead…and he can’t hurt you or anyone else ever again.”
Sarah sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than you. You could see how upsetting this conversation was for her, and again, you wished that night had gone differently. Getting your friends caught up in your relationship problems was your biggest regret, and no matter how many times they insisted they’d never take it back, it did nothing to ease your guilt.
Repeating Sarah’s words in your mind, you put thoughts of Rafe behind you.
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You were having a horrifying case of déjà vu.
Around this time a year ago, you were also out in the middle of the woods at night, repeatedly stabbing at the dirt with a shovel. It had just rained then, and the ground had been wet—soft. You’d been less calm then, but also somehow less terrified than you were, now. A year ago, it had been four of you digging a hole.
Tonight, it was three.
Sticking together was the plan. Even if you didn’t collectively agree on it, there was the thought in all of your minds that someone was after you. Even JJ, who was in denial, didn’t turn down Sarah’s offer to sleep over at her place. Any other time where Rose and Ward would’ve vehemently opposed several Pogues taking up residence in their house, they were now a lot more welcoming.
Any doubt that you were being hunted like animals was nowhere to be found the night you discovered Cleo’s body.
The four of you were sleeping in Sarah’s room—JJ in the guest room right next door—when you heard the faintest thump. It seemed like forever ago, but in the night, it was oddly reminiscent of the day of Rose’s fall festivity or whatever—before John B. died. You recalled the noise you’d heard that day, your open window, and where you had written both of those things off, you now looked back in fear.
You’d sat up, rubbing your eyes and looking around. Noticing Cleo’s absence, you told yourself that she was getting something to drink or going to the bathroom. However, your effort to lay back down was halted when you heard it again—a faint thump from downstairs that made your hair stand on end for some reason. Glancing at your remaining best friends, you pushed yourself to your feet.
“Cleo?”
Your kept your voice low as you stood at the top of the stairs, not wanting to unnecessarily wake the whole house. Only silence met you, and you frowned. The stillness of the house felt heavy, suffocating, and it unnerved you. It was just moments ago that it wasn’t so silent, and you walked back to Sarah’s room.
Glancing inside, there was still no sign of Cleo, and facing the fact that she wasn’t in the bathroom, you made your way downstairs.
The whole house was dark, and telling yourself that a light would be on if she was in the kitchen, you flipped the switch. An empty kitchen met you, as you expected, and your frown deepened. Walking back to the staircase, you looked up, a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach as you climbed them. There were only so many places that she could be, and wondering if you’d missed her somehow, you checked all of the bathrooms. She wasn’t back in Sarah’s room either.
As you stood in the hallway, the complete darkness made you freeze.
It didn’t register, at first, and you stood there wracking your brain. Goosebumps completely covered your skin, now, and as you stared ahead, something in the back of your mind was screaming at you—sending off alarm bells. Something about this picture wasn’t right, and once it clicked, your heart sank to your gut.
There was no light coming from downstairs.
The kitchen light was now off.
Stumbling into Sarah’s room, you shook her and Kie awake.
“What, what?” the tan girl mumbled, Sarah’s huff coming from behind you.
“Something’s wrong,” you said, words tumbling over each other. “I can’t find Cleo.”
Both of them were wide awake, now, and Kie was frowning at you when Sarah turned her light on.
“What…?” she asked, disbelieving.
You tried to keep calm.
“I heard something, and I saw Cleo was gone, but she’s not in the bathroom, and she’s not downstairs,” you rushed out.
Sarah was still for half a second before she ran out of the room. While Kie went with her, you took it upon yourself to wake JJ, and once past his confusion, he was right on your heels as you made your way downstairs too. Kie was looking out the windows while Sarah searched each room.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” JJ said. “Don’t you guys have some alarm code or something? It’s not like she could’ve left without waking the whole house.”
JJ was right.
“So, what? You’re saying she’s still in the house? Hiding and playing some sick joke?” Sarah wondered, visibly stressed and scared. “That’s insane.”
You wondered if you should speak up about the kitchen light, about how someone had blatantly turned it off when you went upstairs. That car conversation with Sarah was on your mind, and your vision swam for a bit as you fought to keep upright. It might not be Cleo, but someone was definitely playing some sick joke.
“I’m going to wake my dad,” Sarah breathed. “This…this isn’t right.”
As she made to go upstairs, you slowly made your way to the back door. You stared out of the windows, scanning the yard for anything that might make sense of all this. The yard was empty, and you could hear JJ and Kie behind you as they talked and tried to make sense of what was going on. Too busy scanning the trees and what you could see of the neighbors, your gaze was focused much too high.
When you saw her, you wanted to be sick.
“Oh my God,” you choked out. “Oh my God, oh my God!”
You were scrambling to unlock the door before JJ or Kie could question you, and the house alarm was loud as you threw the door open. The grass was dewy and slippery, and you quite literally fell a few times before you reached her. You collapsed right next to her, and Kie’s scream was even louder than yours once she fully registered what she was seeing.
Your arms shook as you held Cleo’s broken body, and if it wasn’t for the fact that you were too busy trying not to choke on your own sobs, you might’ve been screaming too. You could feel JJ’s hands on your shoulders as he tried to get you to let her go, but you felt possessed.
You couldn’t not hold her.
By now the rest of the household was outside too, and you could hear Rose on the phone, frantic and horrified. Mr. Cameron’s voice was in your ear as he too tried to get you to let her go. You couldn’t understand why. It wasn’t like you were hurting her any more—she was dead. Any hope for otherwise died the moment your wide eyes met her equally wide ones, dark gaze focused on the sky above. You felt like the least you could do was hold her—some kind of apology for not finding her sooner.
You were only convinced when the police showed up, Shoupe practically begging you to.
“We have to take her, now,” he said to you, his eyes meeting yours. “We have to do right by her and try and figure out what happened. You want that, don’t you?”
You remembered just staring at him, lips parted and chest heavy, before finally letting her go. JJ was quick to pull you beside him, his own hands trembling as he held you close. You knew that it was partly for you and partly for him. You completely leaned on him, feeling like you were moments away from fainting.
Especially so when you glanced up…your eyes landing on the open window of the second-floor bathroom.
You weren’t surprised the next day when you were face to face with Shoupe again and he said:
“She broke her neck.”
That wasn’t news to you. You found her…you held her, after all. You saw what she looked like, so his words were expected. His next, however, were not.
“Now, that could’ve happened when she fell…or it could’ve happened before.”
Your gaze lifted then, watching the older man heave a sigh and lean in closer across the table. His gaze was completely serious, lips pressed together and jaw clenched. He clasped his hands together as he regarded you.
“Now…I asked you this before when we pulled Pope out of that water…”
You swallowed.
“…and you gave me your answer then, and I believed you, but now I’m asking again.”
Tears kissed your eyes.
“…and depending on how you answer, I may not believe you this time.”
Dark blond hair and blue eyes filled your vision, a smooth and almost raspy baritone bouncing around between your ears. For just a moment, you weren’t in that room face to face with Shoupe. You were one year younger and rolling a lithe frame up in a bloody carpet. You and three other girls were carrying it to a familiar truck, determined to bury it where no one would ever find it. Even before Shoupe asked his question, that was all you could see.
…and yet, when he asked if you knew of anyone who’d want to hurt you and your friends, you still told him no.
That was two weeks ago, and now you were back in the woods…in a familiar spot…hoping to dig up a familiar face.
“This is insane, you know that, right?” Sarah spat, huffing as she stabbed at the dirt again.
“Look around!” Kie yelled, her voice bouncing off of the trees. “Three of our friends are dead! They’re dead, and you know what? When the cops asked if I knew of anyone who’d want to hurt them, I almost told them Rafe.”
You and Sarah paused at that, staring at her.
“Can you believe that? That sounds crazy, right because Rafe is dead, and..” she threw her arm up. “I would know!”
She was breathing hard, fighting to keep it together.
“…but Cleo was pushed. We all know that she didn’t fall. She was pushed, shoved, thrown, however you want to call it! Her neck was broken…and you all can say that it happened when she hit the ground, but I just don’t believe that.”
“Unless you’re saying one of us did it…” Sarah shrugged. “Someone would have to know the alarm code to not only turn it off, open the window, and toss her out…but also turn it back on as soon as they did it.”
“Sound like anyone we know?” Kie sarcastically wondered, pointedly looking at the ground beneath them.
There was a brief pause between you three as the horrifying possibility set in. Sarah was right. The requirements to pull something like that off fell to any of you, and you knew for a fact that none of you would ever, and so that was where Kie’s suspicions came in. Determined to face the truth one way or another, you continued to dig.
It felt so silly, attempting to dig up a man you’d most assuredly killed. You still had nightmares some nights about the feel of Rafe wrapping both hands around your neck, squeezing so tight that you were sure your neck would snap at any moment. Even when Sarah and Cleo had walked in, shocked and horrified at the sight before them, he hadn’t stopped.
He’d only been focused on killing you.
As you dug, you could remember their screams and the sound of them hitting him and trying to get him off. Nothing had worked, even when Kie came in, attempting to jump on his back. You didn’t know if it was the coke or alcohol that night that made him so determined to kill you regardless of witnesses. Either way, for your sake, you needed Rafe to be in this grave.
You could handle a lot of things, but you couldn’t handle Rafe still being out there.
“I don’t think we have the right spot,” Kie finally said after some time.
You yourself had briefly thought the same, but you remembered that night like the back of your hand. This was the right spot, and the longer you kept being greeted with dirt and more dirt, you could feel an internal panic setting in. Sarah stopped digging after Kie, but you kept going. You had to…because he had to be here.
“Y/N…”
“He’s here,” you breathed. “He has to be.”
Right now, there was only the sound of you frantically digging, and you hadn’t even realized you’d started crying until a sob bubbled up in your chest. You could hear Sarah calling your name again, but you paid her no mind, tossing the shovel aside and falling to your knees. You clawed at the dirt, looking for any sign of bone or clothing or even the damn rug!
“Y/N-,”
“No,” you screamed, throat hurting. “He has to be here, he has to be here.”
You felt like you were going to throw up, nails chipping and breaking as they only came in contact with dirt and sticks and rocks. Hitting your fist against the ground, you screamed again, this one dying into a fit of sobs. You felt Kie’s hands on your shoulders, and you struggled to breathe.
“This can’t be happening,” you heard Sarah breathe.
You pressed your face into your dirty hands, inconsolable as you were forced to face the truth.
“This doesn’t mean he’s alive,” Kie whispered. “Someone…someone else could know. I don’t know how, but it could be anyone else doing this, somebody who dug him up and is messing with us.”
“Or it could be Rafe!”
Your vision was blurry as you looked at her.
“It could be Rafe who wasn’t actually dead when we buried him. It could be Rafe killing my friends and torturing me and coming back to finish what he started!”
You pressed your forehead against the dirt, hunched over as the most awful wailing noise left you. You felt insane, like nothing in the world made sense, and you could hardly stand when Kie pulled you to your feet. If Rafe was still alive…your life as you knew it was over. You struggled to walk as Sarah put the shovels in the trunk, and when she closed it, she just stood there, hand pressed to the top with the other on her hip.
“So, what do we do? Do we go to the police and tell them that Rafe is doing this?”
“…and when they ask why?” Kie wondered, holding you upright. “What do we say? Y/N didn’t want to be with him anymore, so he ran off and came back a year later to kill her and her friends?”
You completely sank against the car, forehead pressed to the vehicle.
“…or better yet, what happens when we tell them we think Rafe is behind this only for his body to turn up? If everyone isn’t suspicious of us now—and they’re pretty fucking suspicious—they’ll definitely be then.”
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled after some time, continuing when you felt their gazes on you. “I’m so  sorry.”
“What-?”
“This is my fault,” you choked out, forcing yourself to straighten. “I should’ve left him the first time he hurt me. I should’ve…should’ve told someone, I should have called the police.”
“Y/N, this isn’t your fault,” Sarah argued.
“Yes, it is,” you cried, attempting to wipe your face and only succeeding in putting more dirt on it. “You hit him to get him off of me, but… I didn’t have to hit him again. I didn’t have to do that. He was already passing out, and I could’ve just called the cops and-.”
“…and deal with Rafe again when he was inevitably released?” Kie threw out. “Look, Sarah, your family is okay and all, but let’s face it. Rafe would not have stayed in jail long, if at all with Ward backing him up with his money.”
Neither of you argued against that, and your gaze found the ground.
“We need to get back,” Sarah said in a small voice. “It’s way past curfew, and if someone catches us out here, we’ll be even bigger suspects than we already are.”
Sarah was right, and when it became apparent that you needed help moving your feet, she guided you to the passenger side. Kie settled in the backseat, and all of you were quiet, minds no doubt occupied with the possibilities of what tonight meant. Either Rafe wasn’t dead…or someone knew what you did and was getting even on his behalf.
When Sarah turned the car on, the lights shined into the trees before you. You lifted your head, gaze landing in front of the car, and your lips parted. You blinked at the trees, eyes narrowing when Sarah turned on her brights, putting the car in reverse. There’d been a split moment when Sarah’s lights came on—and your gaze wasn’t lifted all the way—that you thought you saw something next to one of the trees.
It looked like a person, standing and watching, but they were gone so quickly that you knew you had to have imagined it. The discovery of Rafe’s empty grave was getting to you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself. It seemed farfetched that Rafe hadn’t actually been dead that night. Murder weapons and such aside, you’d buried him, and how likely was it that he’d woken up to claw his way out instead of simply suffocating and bleeding to death?
It made more sense that this was someone else’s doing, but even still…
Despite burying him yourself, you never felt like Rafe was truly gone.
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With three of your friends dead, the remaining four of you were not only being watched like hawks, but also refused to barely leave each other’s sides. Despite the fact that the police still couldn’t determine if Cleo’s death was murder or an accident, the popular opinion seemed to be the former. Walking through Outer Banks as everyone’s main suspect made a place that used to feel like home unbearable.
Deep down though, some part of you felt you deserved it.
Yes, Rafe was abusive and horrible, but it wasn’t up to you to play God. It wasn’t your place to determine whether or not he deserved to live, deserved to see his family again or redeem himself or go on to be even worse. That wasn’t your call, and despite how much relief you felt when you buried Rafe that night, something in you wanted to be punished for what you’d done.
…but not like this.
You never wanted this to come back on your friends and their family. Looking in the faces of their parents and now knowing this was all directly because of you was heartbreaking. Even if it wasn’t Rafe stalking the streets of Outer Banks and picking your friends off one by one, it was clearly someone doing so for him in some weird way. This all came back to Rafe, you just knew it.
…and they were trying to mess with your head in the process.
What else would they get out of moving his remains?
Considering what happened at Sarah’s house, it came as no surprise that the next spot of choice was Kie’s. It wasn’t without difficulty, and you recalled the way both of her parents huffed and puffed as she fought to convince them. You didn’t disagree with their reasoning. After all, you didn’t need to be a genius to know they were wary of you on some level. Too many people around you had died and gone missing.
They just didn’t want the same for Kie…and you wished you’d listened.
“We could leave,” JJ said to you in one of the Carrera’s guest rooms, hand clasped with yours. “I didn’t really want to believe it before but…”
JJ heaved a sigh.
“Someone’s after us for some reason,” he relented. “…and since we have no idea who or even why… Why not just take off?”
He shrugged at you, and guilt ate at you for a whole other reason these days. After Cleo’s death—and the traumatic night in which you discovered Rafe’s grave was empty—you grappled with the thought of telling JJ the truth. He deserved to know why his friends were dead, and why he had a target on his back. You even started to one day.
…but then you thought about him knowing this was all your fault…and blaming you too. You didn’t think you had the stomach or the strength to look him in the face and tell him that your actions that night came back on half of your friends. You didn’t want to face his reaction, and so you swallowed it down.
“I would if I could,” you told him. “…but aside from just how fucking guilty that would make me and us look…my parents are here. Even if they weren’t and we left, I don’t think that would make this stop. Sarah’s here, Kie is here, and whoever is doing this clearly wants all of our heads. They’re not going to give up just because some of us leave.”
You couldn’t stomach the thought of just taking off and leaving Kie and Sarah to fend for themselves. JJ nodded at that, understanding, and you closed your eyes when he reached for your face. You placed your own hand over his, and something clenched deep in your chest. It was so unfair that the moment you and JJ finally decided to stop being cowards, someone put a bounty on your heads.
Even if you made it out of this alive, how could you ever look back on the beginning of your relationship with anything other than grief and trauma? The two of you got together because of John B.’s death and any attempt to try and heal and make something good of this was ruined by the subsequent deaths of Pope and Cleo.
“Do you think this has something to do with Rafe?”
JJ’s question gave you pause, and you pulled back, staring at him with a frown. His expression was entirely serious, telling you that you had not in fact imagined his words. When you blinked at him, you watched him run his hand through his blond locks, the fair hair still damp from his shower.
“I know you killed him,” he confessed.
Your lips parted in shock, and you fought to make sense of what was happening. Disbelieving, you pushed yourself to your feet, looking down at your boyfriend. His gaze was soft, and you watched him exhale, slowly reaching for you.
“Wha…? What do you mean you know? What are-?”
“I overheard you guys talking about it…what…? Maybe three months after it happened?”
You looked away, slowly shaking your head. When you looked at him, there was no malice or disgust in his gaze, and you felt confused.
“I never said anything because I figured you wouldn’t like anyone else knowing,” he whispered.
JJ didn’t look bothered at all, and for some reason that threw you for a loop. Once his hand was back in yours, he tugged you until you sat down with him again. He took your moment of shock to lean in and kiss you—slow and gentle, and his thumb brushed your skin as he pulled away.
“I know what you’re thinking…”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone,” you wondered, more of a statement, voicing your thoughts and confirming his assumption.
“…because Rafe was horrible to you, and not in that generic asshole boyfriend way, but…really horrible,” he told you. “The way he talked to you and treated you in public was disguising to witness, so it wasn’t hard to guess how much worse he was behind closed doors.”
You felt yourself deflating, hating that JJ had to come to grips with that terrifying truth.
“You don’t know how bad I hated him for treating you like that, how much I wanted to beg you to leave him, but you wouldn’t,” he spat, anger in his voice as he thought about the past. “You wouldn’t even come to any of us, and I just thought it wasn’t my place.”
You hadn’t realized how much of your tumultuous relationship with Rafe had been bleeding into other parts of your life almost since the beginning.
“I started to lose my mind over it, you know…just wondering if I was bad for not telling or bad for thinking about telling, but…”
He let out a humorless chuckle, pulling his lip between his teeth.
“Plenty of times I thought about killing Rafe myself, so why would I hate you for having the balls to do what I could only fantasize about?”
You held JJ’s gaze, feeling shocked but also oh so light. You felt relieved that JJ knew, and you’d no longer have to carry around this guilt, but at the same time… You hated that JJ had been carrying this around for months—almost a year. Unlike you and the girls, JJ didn’t have anyone to talk to about this, forced to carry the burden of your secret alone…and you hated that. You hated yourself for that.
Your eyes burned with tears, and you just pressed your lips to his when a blood-curdling scream made you wince.
You and JJ looked at each other for half a second before he hurried out of the room with you right behind him. The screams didn’t stop, echoing throughout the house and mixing in with harsh sobs. There was a knot twisting in your gut, a feeling of dread washing over you like a cold shower. You and JJ took the stairs almost two at a time, and when you both made it to the living room, you paused in your tracks.
Kie had her hands over her mouth, but it was useless—she couldn’t stop screaming and crying. Sarah stood by the couch, frozen in shock, and you didn’t miss what her wide and stricken eyes were focused on. Mr. and Mrs. Carrera were sitting on the couch, facing the blasting TV as they had been for God knows how long. However, something about their posture was off, and when you slowly brushed by JJ to join Sarah…you realized why.
Blood covered the entire front of them both, eyes open and unseeing, mouths open in mid-scream.
Their throats were slit.
Before the horror of what this meant could even settle in, the power in the house went out, bathing you in darkness. The lights from the neighbors and the street were not enough, and you heard Sarah telling Kie to get up. JJ’s hand was on your arm as he pulled you along too, all four of you heading for the door.
Sarah only just opened it when you heard her let out a choked gasp.
She was still, and you worriedly eyed her.
“Sarah?” JJ called her name. “Sarah, what’s…?”
He trailed off, his words dying in the air as Sarah stumbled back. She fell against Kie, and the other girl fought to catch her as the blonde reached up towards her chest. With what little light you had, your eyes focused on what she was gesturing to. Your entire vision swayed once you saw the knife protruding from it.
“Oh my God,” you breathed, and JJ yanked you back away from the door.
You in turn yanked Kie who was forced to let Sarah go. The sound of her body dropping made you wince. Unable to stay with her, the three of you now headed towards the back door. Behind you, you could hear the front door slamming shut, and the sound of it had bile rising in your throat.
The house was still dark, and besides your own heavy breathing, you heard the sound of footsteps coming from the living room. You were the first to make it to the door, hand on the knob when you heard the last thing you ever expected for some reason. The glass in front of you shattered, but your ears were ringing from the gunshot more than anything.
“Fuck,” you heard JJ curse, and you felt him wrap his arms around you, pulling you to the side.
You didn’t realize why until you looked back.
Kie was in a heap at the foot of the door, her blood decorating the remaining glass in the window and the floor too. She was completely still, and the knowledge that two more of your friends were dead within just minutes of each other had you ready to faint. Despite that, with JJ’s help, you were able to keep your feet moving.
He pulled you into the hallway that connected to the kitchen, and on the other side of the wall, you could hear the slow and heavy footsteps. When the crunch of glass was heard, JJ pulled you further along towards the kitchen—towards the front of the house. You were shaking as you slid along the wall, and when the footsteps stopped, so did JJ.
You both were completely still as you waited and listened. Both of your phones were upstairs in the guest room, but you recalled Sarah reaching for hers when she opened the door. It had to still be near her, provided that whoever was in the house hadn’t taken it. JJ seemed to have the same idea as you, because he slowly moved through the kitchen and towards the front door.
A gunshot stopped his efforts.
“Go, go,” JJ hissed, pushing you away from him so harshly that you stumbled and fell back.
You were half in the kitchen half in the hallway when a figure approached the blond who was now also on the floor, clutching his side. You frantically crawled back, vision blurring from your tears just as they stood over him. Your back was pressed to the wall, staring at the one before you with quiet sobs when you heard it.
JJ’s gasps were loud and pained as he was attacked. One, two…seventeen, you counted. You thought to yourself how angry and evil someone has to be to stab someone else seventeen times. You kept your hand pressed to your mouth the entire time, fighting the urge to be sick. When you could no longer hear JJ, you squeezed your eyes shut.
A defeated feeling washed over you, and it was the feeling of being utterly alone.
You could hear those terrifying footsteps again, and when it sounded like they were coming near you from the other side, you sprinted for the door.
Refusing to look at the bodies of your friends, you fought to run across the street. The neighbor’s lights were on, and your legs burned as you pushed yourself as fast as you could. You refused to look back—too scared to—and you practically collapsed at their door as you banged on it. Some of Kie’s blood was on you, and it marred the door as you repeatedly hit it like a woman possessed.
“Open the door, please, please,” you screamed, looking over your shoulder.
You couldn’t see anyone, but you weren’t fooled. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping you from completely collapsing on this stranger’s porch. You were beating their door so hard that your fists were beginning to ache, and your throat scratched from your screams—strained and raw. When the door finally swung open, you quite literally fell inside.
“What in the world-? Oh my goodness,” a small voice said from over you.
Small and brittle hands helped you to your feet, and you felt bad at almost knocking her over in your efforts to make sure no one was behind you. You slammed the door shut and locked it, chest heaving and feeling much too tight. You were sure that you were almost on the verge of a heart attack. You had to be.
“Sweetheart,” the old lady called. “Call the police!”
She took your hands, guiding you to the kitchen where she grabbed a rag.
“He killed them,” you sobbed, struggling to breathe. “My friends are dead.”
The words didn’t even sound real to you, like some nightmare you’d conjured up, but they were real. Your friends had been picked off one by one for weeks before the rest were finally taken from you in one night. You were alone, and that fact made you cry harder.
“The phone’s not working,” you heard another aged voice say.
You froze at that, looking up just as the woman wobbled to the kitchen entrance.
“What?” you breathed.
“What do you mean it’s not working?” she tutted, and you were quick to follow behind her.
She met up with a man who you assumed was her husband in the hallway, and he did a double take at the sight of you.
“Good lord,” he breathed. “What happened?”
“Never mind that,” she dismissed him, making her way past him. “My granddaughter bought me one of those smart phones, but I hardly ever use the thing. We’ll find that and then we’ll call the police, sweetheart.”
You didn’t want to let her out of your sight, terrified of being alone, but the elderly man reminded you of his presence. He guided you back into the kitchen with a strained but kind smile. You could tell that your presence worried him. You were in his house in the middle of the night covered in blood, after all.
“Thank you,” you managed to mumble when he handed you the damp rag.
The feel of Kie’s blood on you was both comforting and horrifying. Your friend wasn’t with you, but this small part of her was, but at the same time, it only reminded you of her gruesome and tragic death. The woman came back through the hallway, joining her husband in the living room, and you heard her mumbling something about hoping the cops would come quick when there was a knock on the door.
The sound of it made your stomach drop, and you stood in the kitchen, rag tight in your hand. What were the chances they’d be getting some friendly visit at this time of night? Right after all your friends were brutally murdered, and you were forced to seek refuge at this very house?
You’d only taken one step forward when you heard the door open, followed by a startled gasp. It happened quick, too quick for you to even process, and it wasn’t long before you could hear the woman’s husband yelping too, a loud thud reaching your ears. Before today, you didn’t know what it sounded like to stab someone or cut their throat. You stumbled back, eyes wide and heart so loud in your ears that it was all you could hear for a moment.
You felt so cold, and you had the shivers to prove it, and slowly but surely…you reached for the knife in the sink.
The house was so quiet, and you didn’t hear a single breath or footstep. Taking a hesitant step forward, you held the knife out in front of you, briefly squeezing your eyes shut. Stepping into the living room, you weren’t surprised to see the bodies of the poor couple who’d just tried to help you. Blood stretched from beneath them like a stream. You pressed your free hand to your mouth, swallowing down a sob.
You were surprised, however, to see an empty living room.
Your brain was completely empty, feeling like you were short-circuiting. You were being toyed with, that much was obvious, and your lips trembled as you slowly spun, fighting to see any sign of your tormentor. Slowly kneeling, you looked for the woman’s cellphone, and you had to swallow down a curse when you realized it was gone.
You stood in the living room, feeling like you were losing your mind with no idea of what to do next. You could run back across the street to Kie’s where you knew a phone was…or you could try another neighbor. A last resort of an option flitted through your mind, anger briefly filling you as you considered simply killing the person who did this.
The front porch creaked, and your gaze zeroed in on the door.
Backing up, you moved further into the house and further away from the door. You glanced over your shoulder, arm grazing the wall as you hid in the hallway. You could hear the door opening just as you disappeared around the corner, and as you slowly and quietly moved about the back of the house, you wanted to cry with the realization that they had no back door.
The house was so modest and quaint that you hadn’t even considered that possibility.
Tears of frustration and fear skipped down your face just as the upbeat tune of a whistle reached your ears. You didn’t know why, but something about it made you so angry. You were being played with, like a damn mouse in the grasp of some cat. How this person could snuff out life like it was nothing and be so giddy about it, you didn’t know. It disgusted you.
…and so the knife was tight in your hand as you stomped back towards the living room.
There was no doubt in your mind that you were going to die tonight, and you’d rather it be fighting and on your terms. The lifeless faces of your friends were all that plagued your thoughts, one after the other being taken from you so easily. As if they were nothing. You thought you were prepared for the person you’d grown to hate most in the world.
…but you weren’t prepared for the sight of Barry sprawled along the couch without a care in the world.
You actually came up short, stopping in your tracks in both shock and disbelief. You felt your lips part, and your hold on the knife wasn’t so firm, now, almost dropping it. A myriad of emotions hit you at once, none of them good, but the loudest and most prominent was…confusion.
You barely knew Barry, really only in passing. The only time you ever saw him was when you happened to be in Rafe’s truck when he needed to make some exchange, the dark-haired man always giving you a mockingly prissy wave. You never talked to him outside of pleasantries, and quite frankly you hated being around him. Somehow, he always managed to bring out the worst in Rafe, egging on any of Rafe’s disgusting behaviors.
He never called you by your name, it was always—
“Mrs. Country Club,” he drawled, that familiar cheeky half grin on his lips.
The gold in his mouth winked at you as you just stood there, and your stomach turned.
“Barry?” you breathed, and he simply raised his hands as if to say ‘the one and only’. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
He raised his brows at that, pursing his lips together to fight off a smirk. You looked around, trying to make sense of this before taking a shaky breath.
“Why?” you spat, gaze meeting his unreadable one. “I don’t understand…”
Your words died in your throat, getting choked up.
“Why?”
He played with his hair, a look of confusion on his face.
“Why what…?”
“You’re not funny,” you sneered. “You’re not. Why? Why? Why?”
You screamed the last one, face wet with tears, and all the while he simply…smirked at you.
“How about this… I’ll answer yours if you answer mine,” he proposed, gesturing between you. “Did you feel bad when you dumped your boyfriend in the woods?”
His question made so much click, and you sighed, eyes briefly closing.
Of course.
Of fucking course.
Somehow, someway, Topper and Kelce were like brothers to Rafe despite their differences, but Barry? You always hated how your ex-boyfriend managed to find a camaraderie in the dangerous drug dealer, both of them cut from the same psycho cloth. Only Barry could never go to the lengths Rafe did. At least, that was what you always thought…
The laugh that left you seemed to surprise both of you, and he blinked, brows raising again as he just…looked at you.
“That’s what this is about?” you breathed, voice shaking from anger and grief and disgust. “Revenge because I killed your bestie?”
Your tone was mocking, and all the while, Barry just stared at you.
“I guess psycho little rich boys must be hard to come by,” you spat. “Forgive me. Had I known you were going to take it so hard, I would’ve tried to make it look like some tragic accident instead.”
Again, he said nothing at all, and you recalled he’d asked you a question.
“…but to answer your question, no. I didn’t.”
The corner of his lips lifted ever so slightly at that, smirk growing.
“Rafe treated me like his property, like he could do whatever he wanted to me…and best believe…he took full advantage,” you forced out. “That night it was him or me…and I chose me.”
The other man jutted his lip out a bit, nodding in a way that suggested he was almost impressed. You looked at the bodies of the poor couple who’d gotten caught up in your shit, and you wiped your face, more tears spilling over. You adjusted the knife in your hand, staring him down.
“So, are you going to try and kill me or what?”
He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow at you.
“That’s what this whole thing has been about, right?” you threw your arms up. “Tormenting me, driving me crazy, taking my friends from me and saving me for last so I knew what was coming, right?”
His silence actually angered you, now, and you roughly exhaled through your nose.
“What are you waiting for?” you brokenly questioned, startled by the sound of his chuckle.
It was genuine.
“I am offended,” he laughed, hands grazing his chest as he sat up straight. “Do I seem like a bloodthirsty murderer to you? Come on, now, Mrs. Country Club. You know that’s not my style.”
His words confused you.
“Truthfully,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees, a half-smile on his lips. “I’m just here for the show.”
You were so startled by the tight grip on your wrist that you dropped the knife, your lifeline clattering to the floor with a loud clang. Another knife—a bigger one—was at your throat, and you sharply inhaled at the feel of cool metal to your skin. In your attempt to get away from the blade, you pressed yourself further into the chest at your back. His hand on your wrist briefly tightened, so bad that you cried out in pain, but the tears that poured over had nothing to do with that.
You heard his deep breaths, and it wasn’t because his lips were at your ear, but because you’d stopped breathing. You couldn’t feel your heart, an icy emptiness in your chest where it was supposed to be, and the noise that finally left your lips was a cross between a gasp and a cry. The knife at your throat pressed harder into your skin, feeling a slight sting there, but it was nothing in comparison to the feel of his face pressing into the area where your neck and shoulder met.
He deeply inhaled, and a shudder passed through you.
“Word of advice…”
You closed your eyes at the sound of his voice, hoping for anything other than what you accepted as the truth.
“…if you’re going to bury someone,” his lips were at your ear again, and his tone was chilling. “Make sure they’re actually dead.”
A sob finally escaped, and your tearful eyes rested on the ceiling.
“Unlike you, I don’t make that mistake.”
Revulsion filled you, and you were certain that now you really were going to be sick.
“When I set out to kill someone, I get the job done,” he purred, a kiss to your neck. “…but you know that better than anyone, baby.”
You couldn’t even describe the feeling of being in Rafe’s arms again. There was too much going on within you to pinpoint one feeling, but above all else, you knew that you felt fear. Not once had you ever been able to actually heal from Rafe’s abuse. He was the thing you feared most in the world…and then you killed him.
That wasn’t healing.
That was just getting rid of the problem, but the fear and inferiority complex and damage still remained. You were happier with him gone, and you’d mistakenly took that for healing, but now that he was back… Now that Rafe was alive and well and a thousand times worse than you knew him to be, all of that came back, and you couldn’t stop crying.
“What? Nothing to say for yourself?”
It was so hard to breathe, and you couldn’t answer Rafe’s question even if you wanted to.
“Nothing to say about how you hit me upside the head and buried me in the woods like a fucking dog?”
He shook you as he said this, and you cried out. Evidently, that made him angrier, and you soon found yourself thrown to the floor. Your legs landed in blood, and your attempt to crawl away was halted by Rafe’s hand in your hair. He yanked you back until you were on your knees, and when you reached up, his other hand had the knife at your throat.
“Oh, wait, that’s right. What was it you said? It came down to you…or me…?” he chuckled, purposefully nicking your neck. “…and you chose you…right?”
He shoved you again, and you struggled to get to the wall, leaning against it and finally facing him.
It actually hurt you to see that he was just as beautiful as the day you buried him. Of course, he was sober, now, but what did that count for when he also had half a dozen literal bodies under his belt now? Blood stained his shirt, so much of it, and you wondered how much of it belonged to your friends. Your lips trembled as he pushed his hair out of his face, his other hand still holding the bloody knife.
“Sorry about your boyfriend,” he suddenly said although he didn’t sound sorry, at all.
Your face crumbled, and he chuckled.
“It wasn’t my intention for him to go like that, but…” he wiped blood off of his forehead. “I couldn’t quite get the image of him on top of you out of my head.”
Your eyes widened at his words, staring at him in shock as you recalled the day you told yourself you were imagining things.
“Truthfully, Sarah was supposed to be last,” he casually said, and you pressed your hand to your mouth. “My own fucking sister.”
He scoffed, and something passed through his gaze that told you he was genuinely hurt about Sarah’s so-called betrayal. His blue eyes rested on you, and you were suddenly thinking about the last time you stared into them…when he had his hands around your throat, choking the life out of you. Rafe seemed to be thinking about that night too, and you watched his gaze briefly fall to the floor, sniffing.
“I gotta admit,” he murmured. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”
He looked into your eyes again, and you realized that you hadn’t stopped crying once since he revealed himself to you. Your gaze briefly landed on Barry who was still on the couch, watching the whole ordeal like this was some tv show instead of real fucking life.
“Rafe…” you choked out.
“…but I can promise you,” the blond sneered, pointing the knife at you. “I won’t be making that mistake again.”
You closed your eyes, fresh tears falling, and you struggled to swallow.
“Just get it over with already,” you breathed, so tired and…defeated. “Just kill me.”
When you opened your eyes, Rafe looked genuinely amused at the words that left your mouth. You weren’t surprised when he chuckled, and he glanced over his shoulder at Barry, still laughing.
“Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
Your confusion must have been evident because he laughed again. Rafe stepped towards you until your eyes were level with his crotch, and you hated the way he looked down at you, like you were this helpless and hapless thing that he was just going to have so much fun with. When he slowly knelt before you, you flinched as he lifted his hand, the end of the knife lightly grazing your cheek before it trailed down your neck. Rafe’s blue gaze followed the descent, tongue darting out between his lips.
“Why would I do a silly thing like that?”
His almost inaudible words were loud and clear to you though, and you felt like you’d been shot.
“I won’t lie,” he said, staring at your collarbone. “I thought about. It was the first thing on my mind when Barry pulled me out of that grave you put me in.”
You swallowed when his gaze snapped to yours.
“I wanted to gut you like those fish my dad are always reeling in,” he spat. “I wanted to cut you open.”
You shook your head, letting it fall as you cried.
“…but this seemed soo much better,” he breathed, voice shaky, and you knew it wasn’t from fear nor anger.
Rafe was excited.
“…because you know what’s so much better than murdering all of your friends and forcing you to live with the fact that their deaths are on your hands? Hmm?”
He reached up, lightly grazing your lips with his fingers.
“Do you know what’s better than that?”
His hand tightened around your chin, and knowing him like the back of your hand, you knew he actually wanted an answer.
“No,” you muttered.
Rafe leaned in, brushing his lips against your cheek in a gentle kiss as he whispered his response.
“Having you all to myself.”
You didn’t have time to resist before Rafe was yanking you up by your hair, quite literally dragging you through this stranger’s house. Your feet tripped over one another, and several times you almost fell. Rafe finally wrapped an arm around your neck, keeping you in a chokehold as he forced you down the hall. The moment you tried to scream, his hand was there, forcing it down, and when he tossed you into the bedroom, your forehead hit the leg of the bed.
You heard him whistle.
“The old geezers have taste,” he praised. “…bet this is where that granddaughter of theirs sleeps when she comes to visit.”
You were a sobbing mess, just barely pushing yourself to your knees when Rafe tackled you onto your back. Not unfamiliar with this predicament, you fought against him, hitting him and scratching at his face. Any resistance was met with a genuine laugh, and when Rafe had both of your wrists pinned down beside your head, he tilted his own at you.
“You already killed me, baby,” he breathed. “What more could you do to me?”
The scream you let out was filled with equal pain and frustration, kicking out when he sank his teeth into your chest. It was done with the full intent to hurt, and he succeeded, pain blooming beneath your skin as he tore at your shirt.
Becoming reacquainted with his knife, you tried to scoot back as he sliced through your pants with it, pulling the jeans off of you in tatters. Fearful of the weapon in his hand, you tried to push at his arm, but when his free hand wrapped around your throat, effectively pinning you down, the knife found its way to your stomach.
You breath hitched as you froze.
“I’d be careful if I were you,” Rafe hummed. “I might just…slip.”
You yelped at the sharp feeling along your stomach, and the burn you felt told you there was a cut there. He didn’t let go of the knife as he undressed himself with his other hand, and when he reached for your bra, the blade was pressed to your throat the entire time. You couldn’t stop shaking even if you wanted to, and Rafe made a show of taking his time as he settled between your legs.
“I hope you know how much planning went into this…”
You squeezed your eyes shut.
“…and I hope you know that this was all that kept me going.”
When he pushed into you, you gasped in both pain and shock. You hadn’t been with Rafe—with anyone—in a year, and you struggled to adjust. Fresh tears escaped, and when Rafe’s bloody hand gripped your jaw, he turned your head to meet him in a kiss. It was gentle, nothing at all like the rough thrusts he started to give you.
Your back rubbed against the floor as he fucked you, and your crying was drowned out by the sound of his deep moans. Rafe sounded like he was in heaven while you felt like you were in hell. The feel of his cock pushing into you made your mind shrivel with disgust, but your body responded exactly how he wanted.
“I missed you,” he moaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “Fuck, I missed you so much.”
You sobbed louder, hating the way his thrusts became smoother, now. Your body greedily sucked him in with every push of his hips, and as his hands ran over you, all you could think about were these same hands killing your friends. These same hands that had done so much damage to your life even before that fateful night last year.
With a tug on the hair at the nape of your neck, Rafe forced your head back, and he took his time grazing his teeth along your skin. You could still feel the cool blade of the knife on your skin whenever he moved his other hand. His hips snapped against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, and it seemed like every nightmare you’d had about Rafe had come true…only multiplied by one hundred.
He pressed a hand into your stomach, holding himself up that way while the other hand pressed the knife to your throat. A fresh bout of sobs escaped, and you swore that Rafe actually smiled. You were proven right when he laughed, a deep and raspy chuckle that made your hair stand on end.
“Sucks, doesn’t it?” he breathed. “…being so weak and at the mercy of someone else?”
It was sick how Rafe didn’t seem to realize that you knew this feeling long before today. Countless days filled with fear and yelling and manhandling plagued your mind, and the knowledge that Rafe had no intention of ending your suffering was enough to make you go numb.
As if sensing that, Rafe pressed the blade into your throat.
Your gasped turned into cries as you reached up.
“Uh uh,” he panted. “None of that. You are going to lie here…and you’re going to think about what you did to me.”
You gripped his wrist, eyes pleading. Rafe leaned in, nose pressed to yours with a knife pressed to your throat and a hand pressed to your stomach.
“You’re going to lie here, and take my cock, and thank God that I decided to spare your life.”
A particular hard thrust made you gasp.
“Every day, for as long as you live, I want you to think about your friends and remember that they are dead because of you…”
You closed your eyes, and Rafe dug the knife into your throat.
“Open your fucking eyes,” he breathed, continuing when you obeyed. “They are dead because you failed to kill me, and every time I come inside of you, you should take it with nothing less than gratitude.”
He kissed you then, roughly and lacking of any kind of love. It was purely done for show, to exert his power over you and remind you that you belonged to him. You tried to turn your head, and in doing so, you caught sight of Barry leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he watched. The sight made you turn your head away, sobbing beneath Rafe.
“…because never forget that I wanted to cut you open,” he whispered in your ear, grinding his hips against yours and forcing a choked moan from your lips. “…but where is the fun in killing you when this is so much better.”
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dollyyun · 2 months ago
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DEVIL'S KNIGHTS' PREY ✧ SERIES MASTERLIST
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PAIRING ✧ enha hyung line x fem!reader GENRE ✧ 18+(mdni), reverse harem, eventual poly, romance, morally grey characters, semi-college au, eventual adulthood, dark themes, strangers/friends to lovers, obsessive male leads (borderline psychos but we love them) GENERAL WARNING ✧ religious themes, good girl!fem reader, tensions, angsts, toxicity, explicit themes, profanities, corruption, perversion, usage of weapons, violence, blood, graphic descriptions, traumas, dramas, misunderstanding and miscommunication, tragedy, other k-idols appearances, smuts (warnings will be indicated under cut on each part) DISCLAIMER ✧ this fic is inspired by devil's night series written by penelope douglas but with an entirely different plot. CREDIT ✧ main top banner by @chaconnenha <3
✧ SUMMARY ✧
the four devil's knights' leaders ─ just by hearing their moniker gives you the unpleasant shivers because you know fully well that they are bad news, but you have nothing to worry about as you don't intend to be involved with the likes of them, or so you thought.
your first mistake was attending the renowned Halloween party that happens every year, which is hosted by the corrupted fraternity of Devil's Knights, because from the moment you ignorantly stepped into the zone where danger persisted, your life was never going to be the same, not especially when you became their target as they hunted you down, giving you a night to remember that was either memorable or traumatising. you thought that it was over? wrong again.
despite the hidden agenda under their sleeves, the four devil's knights' leaders cannot deny the magnetic attraction towards you, eventually developing the mutual obsession over you, desiring you all to themselves.
there is a saying that light is drawn to darkness, and that describes your predicament perfectly. you know that they are bad for your pure heart, but your desire outweighs the warnings your angels are telling you. the more you are caught up in the tangled web of attraction, lust, and perhaps love, the more addicted you are as you find yourself craving their attention and affection, even the scraps of it. unfortunately, being involved with the darkness means your light will be diminished, eventually facing the inevitable heartbreak.
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MOODBOARDS ✧ DEVIL'S NIGHT | HEESEUNG | JAY | JAKE | SUNGHOON
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ORIGINAL VERSION OF DKP SERIES
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✧ PART 1 - DEVIL'S NIGHT
✧ PART 2 - HIDEAWAY (JAKE)
✧ PART 3 - KILL SWITCH (SUNGHOON)
✧ PART 4 - CORRUPT (JAY)
✧ PART 5 - NIGHTFALL (HEESEUNG)
✧ PART 6
✧ PART 7
✧ PART 8
✧ PART 9
✧ PART 10
✧ PART 11
✧ PART 12
✧ PART 13
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DRABBLES
✧ GOOD FOR YOU
✧ TOUGH LOVE
✧ APPLE OF HIS EYE
✧ DOUBLE TROUBLE
✧ FOREVER HIS ONLY PRINCESS
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MISC
✧ dkp men visualisation
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ASKS
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PERM TAGLIST:
@ja3yun @yzzyhee @sunpov @vveebee @jiryunn
@nshmrarki @roslayy @machambrx @wonnienyang @punchbug9-blog
@nora12379 @hollyoongs @chicxxy @tunafishyfishylike @norucking
@riribelle @lol6sposts @skzenhalove @reading-wh0re @tinie03
@cyjhhyj @jungwonsstrawberriesnchocolate @mitmit01 @strxwbloody @woorcve
@1309zip @fancypeacepersona @tsukiflwr @karinaever @wolfhardbby
@moonpri @lucid-sombra @kittylicious-purr @addictedtohobi @lillotus17 @minahaeyo
@in-somnias-world @jezzzzzzmin @deobitifull @doublebunv @mamuljji
@adroitlane @wilonevys @florestalio @senazzzz @firstclassjaylee
@hellokittygurl9999 @woorcve @1309zip @vwricky
TAGLIST:
@wave2hoon @nyxtwixx @somuchdard @bgirly318 @en-doll
227 notes · View notes
satoruly · 1 year ago
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𝘿𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙎 𝙃𝙄𝙈 𝙐𝙋 .ᐟ.ᐟ
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costumes that the jjk men would wear for halloween
includes. toji fushiguro, satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami
tags/warnings. fluff, no curse!au, i like to think gojo's is a college au too, suggestive, mentions of oral in toji's, gojo is called a slut (jokingly), fake blood.
a/n. i love satoru i swear and suguru's is so cheesy idk if i cringe or not idc i think he's lovely. mdni banner by @/cafekitsune
got a request? click here !!
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𝘀𝗶𝗺𝗼𝗻 '𝗴𝗵𝗼𝘀𝘁' 𝗿𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘆 ₊˚⊹ 𝘁. 𝗳𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗼
“I look ridiculous.”
“I bet you don’t,” you spoke from where you sat on the bed, legs crisscrossed as you waited for your boyfriend to come out from the bathroom “Just show me”
He had taken longer than you thought to get ready, longer than you had, but in retrospect, you guess you should’ve seen it coming with the amount of belts you had handed to him and no instructions to work with, you guess it was really on you. 
“This was a mistake.” He mumbled through pursed lips once he came out, looking off to the side, his slightly overgrown hair obscuring his eyes. Without the vest and belt, it was practically an everyday outfit for him, a navy blue hoodie with a pair of blue cargo pants. The latter did differ from his day-to-day wear but it was okay, he was gonna wear his New Balance sneakers once you were ready to leave so it cancelled out. 
“I want to suck your dick so bad right now.” 
“I look like a glorified back-pack”
“Where did you learn the word glorified?” You joked, though only half-heartily because you were too busy staring at your boyfriend’s thighs concealed by not only way too tight pants but by very tight garters. You wished he would keep them on the daily. Luckily though, your primitive brain had no completely taken over and so you were able to process his lack of response to your off-handed blow job proposition.
“Im wearing kneepads like a fucking loser.” He raised his knee to emphasize his point, letting his foot rest on the ottoman at the end of the bed and practically throwing the skeleton mask you hadn’t noticed he had been holding on top of the covers. 
You stood up, gave him a once look over and walked towards him cupping his face with your palms. One of your thumbs rubbed the skin of his cheek now coated by a very subtle pink, one you’d only be able to notice if you squinted. 
“You don’t look like a loser, personally I think you look very very hot,” you assured him, “but if you really don’t like it you don’t have to wear it, we can find something else for Satoru’s party.”
He huffed, unconsciously leaning against the warmth of your palms, eyebrows still twisted into a frown. “It’s not that, just— you’d really suck me off dressed like this?”
You hummed, giving him a light peck on the lips before trailing your hands down his chest, ignoring the plate carrier that bulked him up more than he already was. 
“Like now?” You could hear the smirk in his voice, the usual sultriness it carried back where it was meant to be.
“Depends,” you pondered, biting back a smile at the suggestiveness. “How long ‘till we have to leave?”
He cursed at the number of pockets he had to go through before finding his phone stashed on the back of his pants, eagerly examining the time and then showing the lit-up screen to you. “Like 30 minutes.”
“Then sure,” you looked up at him, not breaking eye contact as you undid his utility belt, letting it fall to the floor before slowly working to unzip his pants. “I’ll be quick."
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𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 ₊˚⊹ 𝘀. 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼
“I was gonna buy the tights but the imprint of my d—”
“Okay! We are changing the subject…” You almost slapped your palm over your boyfriend’s mouth before he could continue. Successfully [stopping] Shoko and Utahime from hearing the not-so-safe-for-work details of your costume shopping trip.
Looking back, it was kind of funny. Satoru wasn’t all that fond of superheroes but one singular video of a hot guy on his fyp was more than enough to convince him he was willing to commit to the transformation. In reality, you’re sure he just wanted to wear the tights. That's why he almost cried when all the ones at the costume shop turned out too small to cover his ankles.
He had tried his best to make it work but to no avail and had settled instead for a black pair of cargo pants, and though they weren’t the classic Nightwing tights he had envisioned, you swore they were so much better.
“It’s nice,” Shoko pointed out, taking a drag of her cigarette, directly juxtaposing her surgeon costume. The scrubs and lab coat she wore were likely taken from the faculty of medicine last minute. “Thought you’d use Halloween as an excuse to dress up sluttier though.”
His offended gasp almost made you burst out laughing, the hand you had used to shut him up still muffling his dramatics.
“Oh, he’s a slut alright.” You joked, now resting your hand on his chest and taking a sip of your drink to hide your smile as your boyfriend decided to run with your joke.
“Yeah exactly,” he chuckled, leaning against your head and smushing his cheek in the process and circling one of his arms around your waist. He couldn’t spend a single moment not touching you, and though you played tough, you couldn’t help but lean against his touch every single time. “It’s the energy.”
And it sure was. Even if his current costume was way more tame than the bunny boy one he had chosen last year, he was still giving ‘slut’.
Although you were quick to shut down his previous comment, you’d be lying if you said the mildly accurate costume didn’t do things to you. For one, props to him for making progress at the gym. The loose material stretched out over his thighs every time he made the slightest flexing motion. Sitting, standing, going up the stairs, no matter what he did was a sight for sore eyes. Then, you had the compression long-sleeved he wore. Though it technically was a “costume” and not a compression shirt, it still hugged his arms and chest so deliciously you swore you could moan. 
And of course, how could you forget about his ass. 
“And what are you supposed to be?” Utahime asked, looking at your pleated pants, loose light blue shirt with most of the top buttons undone, and a pair of sunglasses.
“A slut.” You shrugged, enjoying their confusion until it finally clicked.
“You’re dressed as him!”
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𝗵𝗼𝘄𝗹 𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗼𝗻 ₊˚⊹ 𝘀. 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗼
“Nope, we need another one.” 
Suguru groaned in dismay, so close to banging his head against the door frame as you rejected yet another costume you had suggested, or more so, insisted he should wear. At this point of the day, he was sure his skin was sore from the constant friction of multiple garments’ fabrics. 
“Why? I think this one’s good.”
You tilted your head, looking him up and down before pursing your lips. You won't deny he looked good. He always looked good. But, “We’re going to a costume party.”
“So? This is a costume.” 
“Yeah but…” You trailed off, wondering if he’d take personal offense for the comment you were about to make regarding his fashion sense. “It kinda just looks like you.”
Now it was time for him to tilt his head in confusion, squinting at you as if to prompt you to elaborate and you sighed before continuing, “Besides the boots, actually, no, you do use those, it's pretty much a normal outfit for you.”
He looked down at himself, eyes meticulously scanning every inch of his body to then look up at you. “I’ve never worn a poet shirt before.”
“But the vibe,” you pointed at him up and down with your hand, “is there.”
“What vibe? Suguru Geto from the 19th century?”
“Ish? Yeah.” You agreed, standing in front of him to fix the collar of his shirt. “You look like you belong in a romanticism painting minus the high-waisted pants, which fyi make your ass look great.”
He chuckled, turning around to stand in front of the full-body mirror next to your vanity to check himself out, subtly taking a peak at his ass. It did look really good in those pants.
“Let me try the necklace and you can decide.” He grabbed the thin chain and gave it to you for help. Holding his hair up, he couldn’t yet again chuckle at the reflection as you tried to stand up on your tip toes to hook the clasp around his neck. 
It added some depth, he thought. The white shirt and black pants combo was something he would wear. The added jewellery made it look a little less like him, but the matching earrings were still missing.
“—and I know what you’re thinking, so I got these.” 
You stretched your palm in front of him, a pair of new gauges resting on it. Unlike his, they weren’t black, more so a pale golden color. 
“They match the color of the necklace and if you want to wear the earrings you can loop them through there.” You pointed out, and upon closer inspection, once he held them in his hands, he could see there was a little hole at the bottom of them. “But you can also not wear them if you don’t wanna, thought it'd be a nice detail.”
“I thought you weren’t sure about the costume,” he kissed the top of your head, mumbling ‘thank you’, and carefully slipped off the ones he was wearing. The way you beamed as he started doing so didn’t you escape him, and it made him all the more eager to try them on even if they felt cold against his skin and were out of his comfort zone. He had never really been a fan of gold on himself.
“Eh, I might’ve been more committed than I let on.” You hugged his waist, looking at him through the mirror as he grabbed Howl’s dangly earrings. He looked pretty. “What do you think? Looks good?”
He hummed, shaking his head slightly and chuckling at the earrings swishing against his skin. He wasn’t used to wearing those, it felt funny. “It’s still missing something though.”
“What’s missing?” You asked as he moved fully in front of you. He pressed his thumb in the middle of your furrowed brows before kissing your forehead and then giving you a quick pick on the lips.
“The matching promise rings.”
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𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗯𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗻 ₊˚⊹ 𝗸. 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶
“You’ve always wanted to murder your coworkers, now you can pretend you have!”
“I’m never wearing this outfit again.”
“See! You can even make the references, it’s perfect.”
But you had to give it to him, it would be much more of a costume if he wasn’t wearing a suit that closely resembled what he used to wear for work. A fitted black suit, a crisp, freshly ironed shirt and a red tie, everything covered up by a transparent raincoat. And to be fair, the plastic did make a funny noise whenever he walked. 
The only missing piece of the costume was the blood, which led you to where you were, standing over old newspapers in case you stained the kitchen floor. 
“You’re enjoying this way too much.” He shook his head as you walked around him with a bottle of fake blood, excitedly pouring the runny liquid into strategic places for it to look organic like he had actually killed someone. He wasn’t a Halloween nor a dress-up fanatic per se, but the promise of a good costume party had set you off into a never-ending search for the perfect costume until you had finally settled on one. The perfect one.
You nodded at his words, carefully creating a couple of splotches with a paintbrush before you could finally admire your masterpiece. “Now the only thing we are missing is your face?”
“Pardon?”
“We gotta put some blood on your face.” You said sitting up on the counter, careful not to knock down the FX makeup kit you had gotten. Making space between your legs, you pulled him from his belt loops towards you, and automatically, his hands positioned themselves right on top of your hips. Without you needing to tell him, he leaned closer to you, lowering his height just enough for you to reach his face properly.
“That was not part of our deal.” Yet, he stayed as still as possible as you used a smaller dropper to carefully apply the liquid to his temple close to his hairline. 
“Close your eyes.” He did as you said, and you proceeded to imitate the splotches without staining his whole face, just his forehead and cheeks. Some of it dripped down his eyebrow and towards his eye, but you caught it fast enough for it to not stain his lashes. Hopefully, that’d be the only ‘liability’ you’d experience for the night, you really didn’t want his shirt to stain. “And we are done!”
You grabbed your phone and turned on your front camera for him to look at himself.
“What do you think?”
He stared at his reflection for a couple of seconds trying to figure out if he liked it or not. While he did so, he couldn’t help but subtly flicker from you back to him a couple of times, looking at your eyes creasing in excitement. The warm smile on your lips was contagious, the way you scrunched your nose when he kissed your forehead as if scared he’d get ‘blood’ on you too cute, and so he couldn’t help the gentler one that appeared on his. 
“I like it a lot.”
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© all works belong to satoruly
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 4 months ago
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🍂🍁🎃
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❤️ just some tooth rotting fluff involving Eddie and his not so secret admirer
🎃💌
Eddie was in hell. Who's idea was it to do this stupid shit again?
A banner hung from outside the school that proclaimed today was Boo Day 👻🎃 a day dedicated to your boo (partner) or someone you admired.
Who had came up with this monstrosity you ask? Why that was Miss O'Donnell. She had the idea to have the day before Halloween dedicated to love. Where she had even had an idea like that was anyone's guess but Eddie was pretty certain that the old bat had lost her mind.
Or teaching Eddie for three years had finally driven her crazy.
Everywhere he looked people were cooing over mystery cards that they had gotten from a secret admirer.
This was another thing he hated about this whole day, he had to suffer through Valentine's Day, now he has to go through this shit as well? Who the hell would send him a card like that?
He'd be slightly jealous if he didn't think this was load of bullshit.
He dodges excited students dressed up as ghosts and pumpkins, students who Miss O'Donnell had cajoled into delivering cards and gifts to people who had participated in the card and gift exchange.
Finally there is a hint of escape when he barges into the drama room and breathes a sigh of relief. Jesus h Christ that was a nightmare.
It takes Eddie a second to realise that he's not alone. His heart skips a beat when he realises you're with him.
🎃💌
You're settled on one of the desks with a serene smile on your face that disappears the moment you hear the door open.
Once you see it's just Eddie and no loved up couples looking for a place to make out, you feel yourself relaxing once more.
"Hey Eddie" the haggard look on his face morphs into a genuine smile, all cute dimples and big brown eyes lighting up.
He was so cute and you had the biggest crush on him and you had planned to tell him, today in fact but his loud proclamation that this day was all a bunch of bullshit made you chicken out of handing him the card you made.
You doubted he felt the same anyway, he probably had a crush on one of the cheerleaders or someone like that.
Even if he said he didn't conform to societal standards you still caught him checking out the cheerleaders once or twice. You weren't a cheerleader or popular or anything like that, you just did what you liked and right now that was occasionally joining in on a Hellfire campaign or drawing or writing, honestly anything creative was your thing.
"So do you not have a secret admirer you made a card for?" Eddie teases and you clam up, avoiding his eyes.
"Maybe it's not like he feels the same though" you murmur and notice that Eddie isn't smiling anymore, in fact he looks kinda pissed and a little sad.
"Right, so I guess it's some popular douchebag or something?" He mutters and you try to figure out why his mood has suddenly changed so dramatically.
Was he jealous of who you liked? Didn't he realise that it was him you were smitten by. Shit what if he didn't... Feeling brave you decide to tell him how you feel and hope that he feels the same way or at least things aren't awkward between you after it all.
"It's you. I made a card for you Eddie" shit you wish the ground would swallow you up. The waiting to know how he felt was horrendous, if he laughed in your face you're sure that you'd high tail it out of here.
Instead of laughing he's gawking at you and you're ready to leave and hope to forget this all but something in his expression stops you.
"Maybe I should thank Miss O'Donell after all then" he's grinning widely and looks thrilled. "Can I see the card sweetheart?" flustered you nod and hand him the card.
It has a hand drawn picture of a pumpkin patch and you wrote inside if you were a pumpkin I would pick you 🎃❤️
Cheesy yes but you thought it was cute. Now however you're second guessing that decision and mortification fills you. Shit. This was a bad idea.
The anxiety leaves you when Eddie looks up at you smiling, he hides his face with his hair and it's so adorable.
"Aww shucks sweetheart, that's so cute. Just so you know I feel the same about you, I like you a lot princess and I'm thinking that maybe I could take you on a date"
Beaming you kiss his cheek and nod. "Where were you thinking?" he holds up your card and points to the pumpkin.
"I'm thinking of visiting the Pumpkin patch in town" he suggests and the idea is so perfect that you can't help but giggling.
"Sounds perfect"
🎃❤️
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vigilante24ish · 2 months ago
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🌙 Moon Phases 🌙
Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1233
Chapter 33:
The inside of the room reminded you then top of a tower, no corners to be seen, and some tall glass stained windows offering some light.
Everything had a very medieval feel, with old stones and banners; suits of armour, and an odd circular stone table in the middle, with two wooden chairs across from one another.
However, your attention went quickly to the new outfits chosen by the road for your companions and you.
Agatha had been dressed like the wicked witch of the West, dark cliché witch watches, and even a pointy hat. The skin had even been painted green, only the lips having a purple shade instead.
Billy, on the other hand, resembled Maleficent, and you swore he didn't have that sharp cheekbones before.
You would not lie that it suited him.
And yes, despite your history; you had occasionally chosen to watch mainstream media associated with witches. What could you say? You grew lonely, slightly bored, and the Halloween costumes of certain kids had picked your interest.
"Oh! She's based on me, you know." Agatha suddenly said, posing and clearly enjoying her costume.
Billy was sceptical. "Prove it."
"Well, you are what you eat; so" you commented without much thinking.
Your comment and your tone surprised your companions and earned different looks from them.
Agatha parted her lips in surprise, a silent gasp leaving her as she eyed you carefully. She did not expect that from you, and a part of her wondered if this was creeping jealousy because of Rio.
Truthfully, she hadn't fully seen you jealous, but she knew it was there. When you would kiss her with little more force, when you would snuggle closer to her on certain occasions.
And it was always followed after talk of other people or even small socialising you two would happen to-do; never planned but had to play along not to raise suspicions.
Not that you were always successful. Which was perhaps why you had ended changing places of living quite often.
"Well, then I am curious what your preferences are then," she snapped back.
Her words gave you the courage to glance at yourself, hesitating to do so after the last trial. The Road hadn't seem to be that favourable with you, at least not the way you would have expected it.
Perhaps you were simply a picky person, wanting stability through familiar clothes and styles. You shouldn't be judged, though, considering how unstable your life always was.
Constantly changing places to stay undetected, fake names and backgrounds. One should not mention the unstable duo of Rio and Agatha coming up into your life only to disappear soon after... only for the cycle to be repeated again and again.
This time you wore a dress, long and heavy; reaching the foor. The basis was a light grey, its pattern and material reminding you of a more medieval era; which you had lived through. Yet it was the silver extras that got your attention.
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They were blended and placed to resemble some sort of fancy female cliché chest armour while the skirt had a more scale like design. You had a rather open cleavage, just enough to draw attention but not as dramatic as the one Agatha and rio had during Alice's trial.
"Hmm," you hummed as you did a twirl around yourself, trying to catch a better glimpse of the full outfit. "Honestly, I am puzzled,"
As you looked at your companions, you saw Billy's eyes lighten up in recognition. "You are the Ice Queen!" He exclaimed happily, the character most likely one of his favourite ones.
"Ice Queen?" You arched an eyebrow.
"Yes, an ice witch that used her powers to become queen. You even have the crown and everything. "
At the mention of the crown, you rushed to the nearest shiny object and got a glimpse of your reflection. Indeed, a beautiful icy blue crown had been worn tightly; going down your temples and giving the impression of grown ice.
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"It suits you. White has always been your colour," Agatha commented, having enjoyed watching you walk fast with that heavy but well designed dress; the silvers on it and the crown reflecting the light and giving you a more supernatural look.
An ironic fit in her mind.
You did not wish to continue this discussion and so you tried to find anything to help you change the topic. Thankfully for you, Billy had started to admire his outfit a little too much.
"Well, you seem pleased with your look." You commented as he walked towards you, eager to see his reflection as well.
"Well, if the cheekbones fit..." he replied as he focused on the surprising good contour.
You shook your head, not really in the mood to be amused by his comments. He might enjoy the changes but you didn't, because of two things.
One, you had yet to start the trial.
Two, there was still no sign of Lilia or Jen; a worrisome thing.
In an attempt not to focus on those dark thoughts, you chose to approach this mysterious table and try to get any clues out of it.
You took notice of the card shaped carvings on the stone table. They had been carved to be deeper, acting like some kind of case or place for them to be put on.
The way they were positioned was familiar to you, recognising it as a tarot spreading technique. You had seen it before but never truly focused or bothered with it.
Tarot was never your calling, and you were also never interested in learning of your future. And if you ever need any answers, you would turn your attention to the stars above.
They spoke of secrets that nothing else could, and they only spoke to you after years of training yourself to listen to their mystic, quiet song.
Your hand brushed over the cool surface and above some inscriptions at the side, allap carved on the stone.
"Do you think this is important?" Billy asked him and Agatha, having chosen to finally join you and help you find how the trial worked.
"Your path winds out of time." You mumbled as you read out loud, trying to get some sense out of this rather cryptic message.
Billy took notice of a stack of cards that had escaped your notice, and he grabbed it before flipping one to look at their design.
He could not help but smirk. "It's Tarot. I know this, kind of. I'll read for you, I guess." He said. "To any of you"
"Do her, though I don't think it will work," you admitted, and Agatha rolled her eyes.
"What is it now?" She questioned, one hand in her waist.
She loved you, but sometimes you truly were a joy killer. Especially now. She wanted to get to the end of the road and consider how close you might actually be... she didn't want to wait.
"This is tarot. It's Lilia's trial, " you pointed out.
"But Lilia is not here," Billy commneted.
Agatha did not share the worry. "The kid said he can do it, should be fine. Come on, no time like the present."
Defeated, you let out a sigh and leaned on the table; remaining by the side. Agatha occupied one chair and Billy the other while also shuffling the card deck a few times.
Chapter 34
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shuadotcom · 1 year ago
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Room with a View (M)
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🩸Pairing: Vampire!Kim Mingyu x Human fem!Reader x Vampire!Jeon Jungkook
🩸Summary: “Yes, they clearly want in your pants, but at least Mingyu wasn’t lying about a much better view.”
🩸Genres & AUs: Smut, supernatural au, vampire au, pwp
🩸Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)
🩸Words: 6.3k
🩸Warnings: Mention of alcohol, profanity, mentions of blood, shameless Mean Girls references
🩸Smut warnings: Threesome, vampire kink ig, oral (f & m receiving), semi-public sex, window sex, fingering, anal fingering (f receiving), biting, marking, dirty talk, pet names (baby, little mouse), unprotected sex (vampires can’t impregnate humans in this world bc i said so!) rough sex, double penetration, using cum as lube
🩸Note: For @kpopsblackcreatorsociety 's Blood & Bane event! Vampire Prompt: “Did you just fucking bite me?!”
This AMAZING banner is by my bby @playmetheclassics / @classicscreations and beta’d by my other bby @the-boy-meets-evil! A million smooches for you both!! 😙❤️ Oh and tagging the lovely @gyuwoncheol ❤️
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“I’m a mouse, duh!” You’ve had to clarify that at least ten times tonight, much to your displeasure. You assumed that the black nightie, silver calf-high boots, and mouse ears would make your costume obvious, but so far, it’s seemed that everyone you’ve run into at this party either has never seen Mean Girls or doesn’t remember it. It’s a tragedy, truly.
It doesn’t help that most of your time at this party has been spent with just you by yourself. When only one of the four parts of a group costume is together, the whole idea doesn’t make the same impact. But, Jihyo and Jeongyeon, the Regina George and Grethen Wieners of your quartet in that order, disappeared together fifteen minutes after arriving. They’re likely hooking up in a room somewhere, still trying to hide from you and Sana that they’re dating. That’s added to the fact that Sana, the Cady Heron of the group, is spending time with the busy boyfriend she hasn’t seen in weeks. They had offered to let you hang out with them, but the last thing you wanted to be was a third-wheel.
That leaves just you, lingering by the back door with the same wine cooler you’ve been nursing for the last hour. 
You don’t know many people here except for the host, Dongmin, and a few of your co-workers you’ve recognized, but aren’t close with. He’s the sweet, wealthy vice president at the new company you work at who always goes out of his way to greet you when he sees you in the office.
You’ve only spoken to him a handful of times at the few company events you’ve been to and during shared elevator rides, so you were surprised when he invited you to his annual Halloween party, but you wouldn’t dream of turning him down. You also knew he had a good amount of money, what with the company doing so well, but you had no idea he was this well-off. 
His house has two floors and all of the rooms are spacious, bustling with people in Halloween costumes, dancing, talking, and knocking back drinks. Once you look past all of the partygoers, the view from the backdoor looks out at the city, all the lights in the distance looking magical from where the house sits on a hill in the nice, suburban part of town.
The view is honestly the most interesting part about tonight. You typically love Halloween, but this is the first party you’ve been to in a few years, plus you’re not friends with anyone else other than the three girls you came with. So far, this Halloween has been extremely uneventful.
“Karen Smith from Mean Girls, right? You’re a mouse?” A male voice you don’t recognize catches you off guard as you spin to see who it is.
To say you’re breathless at the sheer presence of the two men you come face-to-face with would be an understatement. They’re both tall and buff-looking - buff in the way that has your stomach doing flips. They’re clad in all denim outfits, their white shirts hugging each muscle underneath the cotton. Cowboy hats and boots complete their costumes, so you can easily deduce what they’re supposed to be. The man who you assume is the one who speaks is closest to you, smiling at you, pretty lips decorated with double lip rings.
They’re beautiful in the most stunning of ways that makes them not even seem real.
When you finally get a grip on yourself, you clear your throat, plastering on a smile. “Finally, someone at this party with taste! You’d be surprised how many people here have never seen Mean Girls.”
“A lot of people at this party aren’t much fun so that makes sense,” The other man speaks, rolling his eyes before fixing you with a look that appears as what you can only describe as hungry. “Speaking of, we haven’t seen you at one of Dongmin’s parties before.”
“Oh, yeah this is my friends and my first time here. Dongmin and I have worked at the same company for a few months. He invited me and as many people as I wanted to bring.”
“Remind us to thank Dongmin for that when we see him next,” Liprings smiles at you again, eyes sweeping over you from head to toe and you can feel the hairs on your arm stand on end under his appraisal. “I’m Jungkook, by the way.”
“And I’m Mingyu,” Both men reach for your hands, each of them placing a kiss on them. The gesture is cheesy, but it still makes your skin heat up, cheeks burning as they gently let your hands go.
“I-I’m Y/n.” Forcing out a nervous laugh, you glance at their hat and boots and attempt to pivot the conversation. It’s not as though you didn’t want the attention they’re so clearly giving you, but you’ve never had men that looked this good so blatantly ogling you. Especially not two at the same time. You’re one more flirtatious look away from giggling like a schoolgirl in front of them.
“You know, just putting on cowboy boots and hats doesn’t make you cowboys.”
“And just wearing a headband doesn’t make you a mouse.” Jungkook fires back, grinning at you. Touché.
“You said you and your friends - where are they?” Mingyu asks, eyes sweeping the room. 
“They’re all with their significant others.” You shrug, not trying to sound bitter. You’re happy for your friends, truly you are - you’re just reminded of how alone you are right now.
“Aw, well we’ll keep you company, little mouse,” Mingyu winks at you and the way you feel your thighs clench together at his words is utterly embarrassing. You’re almost mortified with yourself when you watch as both he and Jungkook glance down at your exposed thighs, noticing the gesture. That mortification is quickly washed away when Jungkook bites his lip and Mingyu’s smile grows. 
All of a sudden, you’re acutely aware that it’s just you and two of the most handsome men you’ve ever been around. Face to face. There are plenty of people buzzing around you, but none of them are paying your trio any mind. Your heart races at this thought, glancing back out the window at the view into the backyard again.
“Everything okay, Y/n?” Jungkook’s voice is closer than you expect as he sidles up to your left, Mingyu moving to stand to your right.
“Yeah, of course, why do you ask?”
“You just seem nervous is all.”
“Nervous? I’m not nervous. I’m just…distracted. The, uh, the view of the city! It’s just so pretty. I’ve been admiring it all night.”
“Hmm. This is a really nice view,” Jungkook agrees.
“I know where you can see an even better view,” Mingyu adds, drawing both your and Jungkook’s attention to him.
“You do?”
“Yeah. We’re super close to Dongmin and we’ve been here a million times. He has a room upstairs that faces out to the backyard, but it’s a much better view than this. Wanna go check it out?”
You’d have to be an idiot not to guess where this was going and what else he intended with his words. He waits patiently, smiling at you and letting you think it over. A glance over your shoulder at Jungkook shows that he’s also waiting, eyes shifting to gaze outside while you think. Two hot guys basically tell you that they want to take you upstairs and hook up with you. It’s not the exact type of excitement you were looking for on Halloween, but it’s excitement nonetheless. 
“Sure, let’s go. I’ll text my friends.”
“Perfect.” They wait for you to send a quick text to the group chat, letting the girls know who you’re going upstairs with and you see someone sends back a winky face emoji before you slip your phone in the clutch on your wrist. 
Mingyu has you follow him out of the kitchen and through the crowd to the stairs with Jungkook behind you, his hand hovering over your lower back as he follows. When you reach the top of the stairs, Mingyu leads you to the left, down a hallway, and into a room at the end of the hall.
As soon as you step in, you see the wrap-around windows spanning the length of the wall in front of you. The curtains are all drawn and the expanse of the starry night is laid out so clearly. This room is in the corner of the house, but still faces the back, so you can see into the backyard and well across to the city skyline.
Yes, they clearly want in your pants, but at least Mingyu wasn’t lying about a much better view.
As if reading your mind the man in question chuckles, gesturing to the view. “I was right, wasn’t I?”
“Yeah, yeah you were,” you wave at him, feeling flirty and brave enough to throw him a wink as you beeline straight for the window. The glass is clean enough that you can just make out your reflection. 
“Why are you so attached to looking outside?” Jungkook questions from your left. When you turn to find him, he’s lounging in a plush chair that sits near the foot of the luxurious bed.
“I can just appreciate a good view is all.”
“So can I,” Jungkook’s voice is so confident when he says it. He’s likely used that same line a million times before and it’s worked.
You refuse to admit it works on you too. 
“Smooth,” you still can’t help but roll your eyes. “This view is honestly just the most interesting thing I’ve looked at all night.” 
A big, firm, body presses into your back, your breath catching in surprise. You hadn’t even heard Mingyu approach.
“Oh yeah? That’s the most interesting thing you’ve seen all night?” His voice is low as he speaks against your ear, this close to making your knees weak.
“Mmhmm. Haven’t really been given much else to look at,” you hope neither of them can hear how your voice trembles as Mingyu runs his hands down your arms, pressing his body against you more. He has you so close to the glass you need to raise your hands to stop yourself from becoming flush against it. 
“Is that so?” Mingyu’s hands are soft as he brushes the edge of your lingerie, his fingertips grazing your bare thighs that the hem hangs above. His hands are colder than you thought they’d be, but the chill is welcome on your blazing skin.
“I guess I need something more interesting to look at.” Your eyes shift up in an attempt to meet his in the reflection of the glass but…all you see is yourself and nothing else? “Mingy-oh!,” your last word is clipped when Mingyu steps back and takes hold of your hips to pull you a little ways away from the window. Immediately after, he pushes you forward to bend at the waist. Your hands press against the glass again, this time to keep you from toppling forward onto your face.
“Be careful, baby.”
“Wh - sh-shit!” Your question dies on your lips when you feel Mingyu spread your plush thighs and presses his face against your exposed pussy, his tongue prodding at the fabric of your panties to push both into your wet hole.
“You can look at your reflection while I eat you out. I’m sure the face you make when you cum all over my tongue will be interesting enough.”
“Oh, or how about all those partygoers outside in the backyard? Isn’t it just so interesting how if anyone looked up and stared long enough, they’d see you bent over with your tits falling out?” Jungkook’s tone is so aggravatingly teasing, but he’s right. 
There are quite a few people stationed and talking around the yard. If someone truly wanted to, it would be pretty easy to see what’s going on in the room. The thought sends fear and another wave of arousal throughout you. 
“Mm, I think she likes that thought, JK. She got so much wetter.” 
“So dirty, little mouse.” 
“I - fuck!” It’s frustrating how Mingyu keeps touching you in all the right ways, his movements constantly scrambling your brain and derailing your train of thought.
His fingers push your panties to the side and his mouth immediately latches onto your clit, sucking a few times before his tongue eases into your entrance, the intrusion pushing out an unabashed moan from your chest.
Your fingers scramble to grip the glass, only to slide with a squeak as Mingyu laps at you as far as his tongue can reach. Your hips begin rolling against his face as he works at you, the need to cum dangling dangerously close. 
There have been plenty of other times you’ve let someone eat you out, but nothing can compare to the way this beautiful stranger plunges his tongue into your dripping hole, the obscene slurping sounds he makes are the only sound ringing in your ears other than your desperate whines.
“God, you look so good like this, little mouse. Your legs are trembling.” Jungkook’s voice cuts through the haze clouding your brain. “Can’t wait to get my hands on you.”
“What are you w-waiting for, then?” You attempt to sound confident and sexy, but your words are more whiny than anything. Even so, you hear Jungkook chuckle before the sound of him getting out of the chair and making his way over you catches your attention. He’s taken his denim jacket off at some point and you practically drool at the sight of his fitting white t-shirt and tattoo-decorated arm on display. 
He raises one of his hands, trailing it over your back and down to your ass. Mingyu already pushed your nightie up enough to get access to you, but Jungkook bunches it up all the way, the delicate fabric resting above your ass to give him access. He brings his hand down once, landing a spank on one of your cheeks.
Electricity surges through your body at the sting and you jump. Your hips respond by pushing back, obviously begging both men for more.
From behind you, Mingyu grunts, and, as if answering your wordless request, you feel his finger ease into your entrance, replacing his tongue. He’s still cold and you let out a yelp at the temperature, but you easily melt into him as his digit plunges into your heat.
Jungkook is still standing next to you, chuckling at the way you writhe, even bending over a little more.
“Asking to be spanked again, baby?” He hums, cold hand caressing your ass. 
“Yes, please!” Your knees are so, so close to giving out as you can feel your orgasm creeping up closer and closer. Mingyu’s finger keeps working at you and he soon adds a second. Heart hammering against your chest, you rest your forehead against the cold glass, nearly ready to collapse at the pleasure.
“Alright, well now you gotta share, Gyu,” Jungkook’s voice reminds his friend before he grabs at you to stand you upright. 
Mingyu, still on the floor, makes a displeased sound, frowning up at his friend.
“Yeah, yeah. You can still eat her out, but I want her mouth. Is that alright with you, little mouse?”
“Hell yes, it is,” you breathe out, still trying to right yourself after Mingyu’s assault on your pussy.
Jungkook smiles at you, and it takes your breath away in another way. How the fuck were you so lucky to end up here like this with men who looked this good?
With his hand holding yours, he leads you to the bed, Mingyu trailing behind as his fingers graze any part of your skin he can reach. Once you reach the bed, both men work together in lifting your nightie over your head and slowly peeling away your bra and panties, leaving kisses over your newly exposed skin. 
The three of you are a flurry of hands as you tug on the hem of Jungkook’s shirt with one hand while reaching behind your back to find the button on Mingyu’s jeans. 
When you’re finally naked, (save for your mouse ears which both men beg you to leave on), Mingyu spins you around and leans down to pull you into a kiss. His lips are impossibly soft as you melt into him, his tongue poking out to brush against your bottom lip a few times. You open for him immediately, allowing the man to wrap his tongue around yours before sucking the muscle into his mouth. 
Tiny mewls slip out of you, getting swallowed by Mingyu as he kisses you hard enough to bruise you, letting you taste yourself on him. Jungkook’s hands skate over your hips, your stomach, and up to your breasts. He rolls your nipples between his fingers, tugging on the buds as his teeth graze your shoulders and neck. Mingyu continues to muffle every sound you make, and one hand, the one not currently cradling the back of your head, snakes down, down, down until he dips a finger between your thighs. He’s met with your wetness, already coating the tops of your inner thighs. 
Your eyelids flutter as both sets of hands hold you, your arousal building with every tweak and every poke.
A different kind of poke on your neck makes you yelp though, flinching your head back from Mingyu to try and get a look at Jungkook.
“Did you just fucking bite me?!”
The tattooed man chuckles and cocks his head at you, amused at your reaction.
“Sorry, I guess I should’ve asked if you’re into that?”
“I am, I was just surprised. Your teeth are sharp.” You don’t mind marking and being bitten, but it’s never been almost painful when past partners have done it. 
Although truth be told, you didn’t mind one bit that it hurt.
He pouts at you, apologizing but still asking if you’re sure you’re okay with it. You promise you are and that’s all Jungkook needs to spin you around and crash his lips into yours. The chill of his lip rings is as cold as his lips, but just like every other chilled part of both him and Mingyu, you don’t mind at all.
Jungkook’s kisses are messier than Mingyu’s, his tongue immediately diving into your mouth to lap at every part of you. He alternates between making out with you as if his life depended on it and nibbling at your bottom lip, his teeth catching on the swollen skin now and again. It’s Mingyu’s turn to lavish your shoulders and neck with attention as he too sucks and nips at your skin, his teeth pricking your hot skin as he goes.
He leaves you panting when he finally lets you up for air and you can practically feel your arousal dripping down your thighs from the dual sensations.
“Your lips are fucking amazing,” Jungkook grumbles, dark eyes fixing you with a look that has you swooning. “I wanna feel them on my dick now,” 
You nod eagerly, likely resembling a bobblehead, and he and Mingyu both laugh at your eagerness. They help you get comfortable on the bed, having you kneel across it on all fours. Jungkook takes his position in front of you, his cock hard and already leaking precum. Mingyu shuffles on the bed behind you, running his hands over your ass, and you instinctively arch for him.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he hums, swiping his finger through your wetness and you hear him suck it into his mouth behind you. “And you taste even better.”
“Hey, you need to share, remember? I wanna taste,” Jungkook pouts at Mingyu over your shoulder and you feel Mingyu’s hand between your thighs again, gathering more of you, and this time, he reaches forward and offers his finger to Jungkook. The man in front of you cranes his neck forward to suck his friend's finger into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks for a moment before letting go with a ‘pop.’ 
Jungkook flashes a sly smile, licking his lips as he looks down at you. “Gyu is right. You’re absolutely delectable, little mouse. I’ll have to taste it straight from the source some other time.” 
The gears in your brain work overtime, registering that he’s alluded to there being a next time for the three of you. 
Mingyu’s tongue is diving into your cunt again which derails any other train of thought. Your mouth hangs open, a moan tumbling out in response. Jungkook uses that opportunity to tap the head of his cock against your bottom lip.
“This okay, baby?” He asks. When you let out an affirmative noise, he eases it into your mouth and you eagerly wrap your lips around it.
Jungkook’s cock isn’t extraordinarily long, but it’s thick, the girth stretching out the corners of your mouth the more he pushes in. When you almost get all of him in, he takes a moment, giving you time. When he feels you relax your jaw and sees you look up at him through your lashes, he starts to move his hips, helping you bob your head over his dick. 
His fingers weave into your hair, making sure not to disturb your mouse ears, gripping the strands at the base as he slowly rolls his hips into your face. You close your eyes, both to concentrate on taking him and to relish in the frantic way that Mingyu laps at your folds. He grunts into you with each swipe of his tongue and you can feel each deep vibration that slips out. 
You can feel your earlier orgasm creeping up again with each flick of Mingyu’s tongue. When he reaches under you to run his finger over your clit, the heat in the pit of your stomach gets hotter, bubbling up and spreading through your veins.
Unable to help yourself, you push your hips back into his face chasing your high. Jungkook’s cock is heavy and your tongue, his pace quickening too. His fingers tug at your hair harder than when he started. Each time he surges forward, the tip of his dick just barely hits the back of your throat, but it’s still enough to have you choking.
Drool starts to pool in the corners of your mouth as you cry out around his length, finally toppling over the edge as you cum. Your words are garbled and you have to anchor yourself to not fall fast forward into Jungkook’s crotch.
“Shit, yes baby like that. Cum all over Gyu’s face and take my cock. So good,” Jungkook’s words sound far away. Your brain is foggy, but you still clench around Mingyu’s enthusiastic tongue as he cleans you up.
When Mingyu finally pulls back you’re still whimpering around Jungkook and he’s switched to shallow thrusts, his cock dragging almost lazily against your tongue.
“Fuck, little mouse. I think I might be addicted to your delicious little cunt now.” Mingyu punctuated his words with a light smack to your still throbbing pussy, making you jolt. 
“Her mouth is a fucking dream too. She looks so pretty with it full. We’re so lucky to have found you, baby.”
“So lucky,” Mingyu agrees. You attempt to nod, trying your best to agree with them because you also feel incredibly lucky tonight. You’d gone from lamenting about being a third wheel in the awkward, almost lonely ways, to being the third wheel in a threesome with two beautiful men. Lucky indeed.
“Gonna let us get even luckier, baby?” Jungkook’s finger settles under your chin, tilting your head up just a bit to look down at you. “Gonna let us fuck you?”
This time you pull away, letting his cock fall out and giving you a chance to rest your jaw.
“God yes. I need more,” your voice is a little scratchy but still needy.
“Good girl. Who do you want first?” Mingyu rasps in your ear, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear.
“Both of you.” 
“Oh? You hear that, Gyu? She wants us both.”
“Fuck, you’re so goddamn dirty, baby. Sure you can take us both?” Mingyu presses his length against your asscheeks, letting you feel just how big he is.
“I can do it. Just prep me real good?” Casting a look over your shoulder, you meet Mingyu’s eyes, batting your lashes at him, wearing your best pleading face.
His expression darkens, smirking at you as his eyes sweep over your back, fixing on your ass before meeting your eyes again. “I’ll take care of you, little mouse, don’t worry.”
Mingyu peppers your cheeks with kisses while his finger swipes through your wetness again. He slowly spreads your cheeks, and a glob of spit hits your puckered hole followed by the tip of his finger prodding you. 
You wince when he slips in, moving oh so slowly until he’s one knuckle deep. Jungkook’s hand still under your chin turns your head to face forward and redirects your attention back to him. 
“Lemme distract you,” he taps the tip of his dick against your lips and you open immediately, almost greedy to take him in again. It’s easy for him to set a pace; each push of his hips forward pushes you back against Mingyu’s finger. They easily find a rhythm and Jungkook tugs on your hair, moaning loudly above you. 
Listening to his melodic voice making these breathy exhales for you - because of you - serves to make you wet all over again and determined to make him cum. He’s still guiding your head, but you curve your tongue, letting it wrap under his cock, gliding along a thick vein on the underside. 
“Fuck, Y/n. Keep doing that,”
So you do, hollowing your cheeks for good measure to make the inside of your mouth feel tighter around him. You’re moaning around his length as Mingyu slips a second finger into you, scissoring his fingers as he gets both digits in you.
“Look at you, little mouse. Taking my fingers and Jungkookie’s cock so well. I just know you’ll take both of us so good when we fill you up,” Mingyu’s words make you clench around nothing, but he feels the way your body tenses up and he chuckles at you. He lands a sharp smack on your ass, pushing a muffled shriek out of you. 
You get lost in the slide of Jungkook’s dick down your throat and the stretch of Mingyu’s fingers in you. It isn’t very long until you’re fucking back against his fingers. Jungkook’s grunts are getting more high-pitched and frantic, curses falling from his lips.
“Yeah, yeah, fuck. I’m - fuck!” Jungkook pulls his cock from your mouth, leaning back and gliding his hand over his length at light speed. 
When he cums he makes sure he’s angled towards him, so the sticky liquid spurts onto his chest and hand. You watch in awe as he tugs at himself a few times. His eyes are closed as he swipes his fingers through the mess on his skin and rubs it over his still-hard dick, sighing as squelching echoes in your ears.
“You doing okay, little mouse?” Mingyu’s voice cuts through to you and you finally manage to nod.
“Good. Come’re,” Mingyu’s fingers slip out of you and his hands wrap around your ankles and slide you down the bed, flipping you onto your back in one swift motion. “Legs and arms, wrap them around me.” He helps you loop your arms around his neck and you do your best to lock your legs around his waist. 
You expect to stay splayed out on your back, but he has other ideas as he picks you up with ease, as if you weigh absolutely nothing and you’ll be damned if it isn’t one of the hottest things that’s happened tonight.
Mingyu’s mouth is on yours again as his hands grip your ass, keeping you up and close to his body. He moves you both across the room, his back leaning against one of the large windows. One of your hands grips his shoulder while the other cards through his dark locks.
A second set of hands ghosts over your shoulders and back followed by Jungkook’s lips, his teeth grazing your skin between kisses. 
“Gonna let us fuck you at the same time, little mouse?” Jungkook speaks next to your ear, biting your lobe.
“I would if you’d hurry up,” you mumble, now laying your head back on Jungkook’s shoulder as Mingyu licks up the column of your throat, biting your collarbone hard enough to make you yelp. 
“So impatient, baby,” he murmurs against your skin. “But I guess we should give her what she wants, JK.”
“Guess so, Gyu,” 
Mingyu leaves a final kiss on the mark he’s left on your collarbone and adjusts you in his hold. He lifts you a little, quite effortlessly at that, and begins sliding you down in his length. Mingyu’s cock is long - long and thick enough that you feel full before he’s even halfway in, but you take it, gnawing at your lip as he enters you inch by inch.
Once he’s completely sheathed inside of you, you two lock eyes, the dark glint unmistakable. He gives a few shallow thrusts, already making you pant in his grasp.
“My turn, baby,” Jungkook says, reminding you that you’re only halfway done.
You crane your neck to the side to look down, and you watch Jungkook stroke himself a few times, using his cum to get himself as slick as possible for you, spitting into his hand for extra help. Mingyu tips you forward, your head resting on his shoulder as he spreads your cheeks for Jungkook. 
You ignore the fact that when you look at your reflection in the window, yours is the only one you see, clinging naked around seemingly nothing.
The nudge of Jungkook’s thick cockhead against your rim makes you gasp. He slides in much slower than Mingyu, letting your walls accommodate him at a much gentler pace. When he finally bottoms out, your head is spinning at the sensation of being packed to the absolute brim. Neither men say anything as you get used to them, using the opportunity to litter any skin they can reach with their mouths with bites, sucking more marks into you. 
When you’re finally ready, you wriggle in Mingyu’s hold, attempting to pivot your hip to get them to move.
“Mm, you ready, baby?” Mingyu whispers, running his tongue along your jaw.
“Yes, please. Fuck me,” 
“Since you asked so nicely…” Jungkook laughs, his hands now holding onto your ass while Mingyu wraps his arms around your waist.
Both men take a millisecond to adjust and that’s truly all they need before they both thrust into you, drawing a long, gasp of breath out of you. Mingyu snaps his hips forward, using the window behind him as momentum to fuck into you. It pushes you back down into Jungkook who’s glued to your back. 
They fuck you roughly, see-sawing you back and forth on their cocks, their grips on your flesh never loosening. You cry out each time, babbling out what sounds to you like their names surrounded by nonsense.
Mingyu’s gaze stays locked on your face, occasionally trailing over the rest of you, practically growling with each powerful thrust. 
“Look at you. Taking two cocks so well. You’re so good for us, little mouse.” Each word is punctuated with even more power behind his movements, drawing a whimper out of you each time.
“So good. Letting me into this tight little ass. Fuck you’re squeezing me so much, baby.” Jungkook’s comments are also followed by thrusts that take your breath away, his balls slapping against the back of your thighs each time.
You feel a million miles away from your body as these beautiful men with their big dicks stuff you full. You can feel every vein and every ridge battering and rubbing against your spongy walls and you clench with each thrust in, your second orgasm rushing to the forefront.
At some point, you think you black out, but that could just be the pleasure. The only thing you see is Mingyu smiling salaciously at you, sharp teeth on display, and half-lidded eyes drinking you in. The only thing you hear is Jungkook growling in your ear, praising how good you are for them and how fucking amazing you are. 
The only thing you feel - well you feel everything. The way they stretch you out, the way their fingers and blunt nails press bruises and half-moon marks into your skin. You feel the scrape of their teeth when they bite at you and it’d be a lie to say you didn’t want them to bite you a little harder.
“Look at our little mouse, JK. She’s so pretty and so fucked out.” Mingyu moves a hand up to grip your chin and tilts your head back to rest on Jungkook’s shoulder.
“Shit, look at you, baby. So cockdrunk for us. You gonna cum?” You think you say words, but maybe it’s more of affirmative sounding noises.
Somehow, someone’s hand - you’re not sure who - reaches between your legs to rub your clit. You’re so fucking full and so fucking wet that it only takes a few rubs at your bundle of nerves to have you cumming with a scream that sounds much too loud to your ears.
Every inch of you is red hot and in flames as your throat dries up and your eyelids sag and that’s when you feel it: the sharp, piercing feeling of being bitten. Hard. One on your shoulder from behind and one on the opposite side of your neck. Your eyes fly open and all you see is Mingyu's dark head of hair. Somewhere in the room, along with the wet, slapping, sounds of them drilling into you, you hear slurping. The slurping of your blood in the mouths of these men that you now know for sure are not just men.
They’re drinking your fucking blood.
And that realization alone has you falling apart again, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, body twitching in their holds.
“Fuck - fuck! Gonna stuff you so fucking full, baby!” Mingyu removes his mouth from your neck, shooting his load into you first, the sensation making you groan out, albeit weakly. 
Jungkook tumbles over the edge right after him, his sticky seed coating your insides, dripping out, and sliding down your cheeks.
You’re still reeling from what is likely the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever experienced, body sagging, feeling completely boneless.
“Did you cum again after we drank from you?” Jungkook mumbles as they slide out of you, still keeping you in their arms.
“Mmhmm,” is all you can manage, eyelids fluttering, fighting to stay open.
“Fuck. You really are perfect, baby. We gotta keep her, Gyu.” 
Mingyu chuckles, finally setting you on the bed, and letting you flop onto the comforter. 
“Yeah, I think we might have to. Would you like that, little mouse? Wanna be ours?” 
“Mmhmm…” You think you have something else to say, but instead, you finally lose the battle to exhaustion, your eyes sliding closed and sleep taking hold of you.
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“Y/n? Hey, Y/n?” 
The sound of your name jerks you awake, and your eyes shoot open to take in your surroundings. 
Sana’s face is peering down at you when you finally focus, concern etched into her features.
“Huh?”
“You’re up! We were getting a little worried, you’ve been sleeping for a while. Feeling okay?”
You sit up slowly, your head feeling groggy as you take in your surroundings. You’re on your couch in your apartment. You can see Jihyo in the kitchen staring at you looking concerned too. In the distance a toilet flushes and you assume it’s Jeongyeon.
“I’m fine,” you finally say. “Why are we at my apartment?”
“Well, your boyfriends texted us that we should take you home because you were so exhausted you passed out. They carried you out to the car and everything. Very gentlemanly.”
“By the looks of those marks, I think they treated you the opposite of gentlemanly in the bedroom?” Jeongyeon eyes your neck as she enters the room wiggling her eyebrows.
When you glance down, you see what she means. Your chest and what you see of your shoulders are covered in bruises. When you touch your neck you feel two small punctures in the skin and you flush from head to toe. You had almost wondered if you dreamt about the whole encounter with Mingyu and Jungkook, but you hadn’t.
“Oh, yeah. They definitely weren’t gentle,” you can’t but help giggle at the memory of the night you’ve had. The ache between your legs and your cheeks is also a stark reminder.
Your friends don’t say anything about where either Mingyu or Jungkook went when they left you in their care, but they wouldn’t just disappear, right? They said they wanted to keep you which means something, you’d like to think.
Lucky for you, it’s not something you have to ponder for long. As you’re settling into bed for the night, your phone vibrates with a text from an unknown number. 
When you go to your messages you see a group chat with you and two other people. Opening it rewards you with an image - two familiar-looking mouths smiling widely. You can only see from their noses down to their chins, but both grins show off very pointy canines, one mouth decorated with two lip rings. 
You’re trying to rack your brain as to what to respond with - it’s not like you could have anticipated that being bitten by actual fucking vampires would be so damn hot.
A text from the other number comes in a minute after the picture.
Good night, little mouse. Let us know when and where we can see you again. 😉
You start to type, then erase the message three times, unsure of how desperate you want to sound. 
Then you decide, fuck it. It’s obvious they want you just as much as you want them, so who cares if you sound desperate? 
So, you keep it short and sweet.
Whenever and wherever you want. Duh.
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Net tags: @kflixnet @kbookshelf
I’ve wanted to write a Mingyu/Jungkook threesome since they did that live together that one time. And then the 3D challenge happened and my brain said NOWNOWNOW so here we are!
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brodygold · 2 months ago
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The Golden Haunted House
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Collaboration with my bro and our head recruiter @polo-drone-009. Thanks for the pics bro! Also yes this is like my fifth Halloween story I can't help it.
Cody and I had been best friends for years, and for almost as long, we’d been dating. We were two nerdy, scrawny guys who shared a love of video games, comic books, and the thrill of exploring every weird, haunted house attraction we could find each Halloween. This year, though, we’d heard rumors about a haunted house set up by a local soccer team, the Golden Army. The place had garnered a strange reputation, with people saying it wasn’t just any haunted house, but an “experience you’d never forget.”
Naturally, our curiosity got the better of us, and on Halloween night, we found ourselves at the entrance to the haunted house in our standard mummy costumes, staring up at a large, ominous banner that read “Golden Army Haunted House: Enter If You Dare.” Cody chuckled, nudging me in the ribs. “Guess these jocks are trying to get in on the spooky season. Should be fun, huh?”
I smirked, tugging my hoodie tighter around me. “Yeah, probably just a bunch of dumb jump scares. They probably spent more time on their uniforms than the actual setup.” Cody laughed, and we both shared a knowing grin. Jocks weren’t exactly our people, and the idea of a bunch of soccer players putting on a haunted house seemed almost comical.
But as soon as we stepped inside, that lightheartedness faded. The air was thick with a strange smell—a mix of sweat, leather, and something almost earthy, like the smell of grass after it rains. Dim lights illuminated a fog-covered floor, casting shadows that seemed to writhe and move. I felt a slight chill creep down my spine. There was something intense about the space, something… different.
Cody leaned close, squeezing my hand. “Guess they’re taking this more seriously than I thought,” he whispered, his voice tinged with nervous excitement.
We took a few steps forward, venturing deeper into the dimly lit corridor that seemed to stretch on endlessly. The shadows played tricks on our eyes, shifting and flickering. Then, out of nowhere, a figure burst from the darkness, lunging at us with a terrifying snarl. Cody and I both shrieked, clutching each other in surprise before dissolving into nervous laughter. Our reactions were way more intense than I’d expected.
But as the adrenaline rushed through me, I felt this weird, pulsing warmth spread across my chest. My laughter sounded different, almost… deeper. I shrugged it off, trying to brush away the lingering heat in my veins. Cody looked at me with a raised eyebrow, his own face flushed, but he seemed more amused than anything.
“Did you hear that?” he asked, smirking. “You sounded like a full-on dude-bro.”
I laughed, though the laugh rumbled deeper than I expected. “Hey, you did too, bro.” The word slipped out easily, like second nature. It felt strange, yet also oddly natural, and Cody didn’t seem to notice or mind. He just grinned and shrugged, looking almost proud in a way that felt… new.
We walked hand in hand into the next room, where mannequins lined the walls, each dressed in a golden soccer jersey. They were posed as if frozen in the middle of a game—muscular arms flexed, powerful legs braced for action. The figures looked so lifelike that I almost thought they were breathing. For a moment, I felt something in me stir, a strange sense of admiration and envy. These mannequins looked strong, confident—everything I wasn’t. Cody seemed just as transfixed, his gaze lingering on the broad shoulders and chiseled forms of the mannequins.
The silence was abruptly shattered by the blare of a whistle from above. Both Cody and I clapped our hands over our ears, groaning at the piercing sound. “Man, that’s intense,” Cody muttered, his voice sounding… different. Lower, more solid. I glanced over, my eyes widening slightly as I noticed his jawline looked more defined, his cheekbones sharper in the dim light. It was as if his face had taken on a rugged, more mature edge.
“Did you… did you do something with your hair?” I asked, half-joking, though a small part of me wondered if I was actually seeing things. He just chuckled, brushing off the comment, but I noticed him roll his shoulders back, as if feeling the weight of his own frame differently.
Moving into the next room, I felt my own body tingle, a subtle hum of energy that made me feel… stronger? The dim, eerie lighting made it hard to tell for sure, but I could swear my own shoulders looked broader, my chest more solid. I took a deep breath, feeling my shirt stretch slightly across my pecs in a way that it hadn’t before. A flicker of excitement bubbled up in me, unexpected but welcome.
“Come on, man,” I heard myself say, my voice carrying a hint of confidence, maybe even cockiness. “Let’s keep going. This place is kinda awesome.” I felt a strange sense of pride just being here, like I belonged in this place. Cody nodded, and for a moment, he looked at me with something like admiration in his eyes. It felt… good. Like we were equals in some unspoken way.
The next room was pitch black, except for a spotlight illuminating a pair of cleats on a pedestal. Voices whispered all around us, chanting “Golden Army… Golden Army…” over and over, echoing in my mind. The words seemed to sink into me, filling me with a strange warmth and pride. I wanted to be a part of this, to belong to something powerful and unbreakable.
The chant grew louder, and I felt the muscles in my body tensing, like they were coming alive. Cody grabbed my shoulder, giving it a squeeze, and I could feel the strength in his grip—a grip that felt more solid than it had before. His eyes met mine, and for a brief moment, it was like we were connected on a deeper level, bound by something unspoken.
“Golden Army…” he murmured, almost as if the words were a prayer, a mantra we’d both known all our lives. It made sense. We’d always been part of this, hadn’t we?
By the time we moved to the next room, we both felt different—stronger, bolder. A large mirror covered one of the walls, and I caught my reflection. My shoulders were broader, my shirt tight against my chest, showing off a physique I knew I hadn’t had when I walked in. My arms were thicker, veins standing out faintly beneath the skin. I glanced over at Cody, who seemed equally transformed. His posture had changed—more confident, almost cocky, and his arms looked… huge.
“Whoa,” I said, though the sight didn’t alarm me. It felt… right, natural. I flexed my arm, watching the way the muscle moved under my shirt. Cody did the same, his eyes lighting up with pride. We looked at each other, sharing a grin that held more than a hint of competitive energy. “Looking good, bro,” he said, punching my arm playfully.
“You too, man,” I replied, my voice carrying that same pride. It was strange, but it felt like I’d known this version of Cody forever. Like we’d been teammates, brothers on the field, for as long as I could remember.
The next room was a replica of a locker room, complete with golden jerseys hanging neatly in open lockers. Each jersey bore a different name, but I felt drawn to a specific one, like it was calling me. The name on it read “Jake.” Cody seemed to gravitate toward a different locker, his fingers brushing over a jersey labeled “Dan.” We exchanged a look, a silent understanding passing between us. Without hesitation, I pulled the jersey off the hanger and slipped it on. It fit perfectly, hugging my chest and shoulders like it was made just for me. Cody did the same, pulling his jersey over his head and smoothing it down over his muscled torso.
For a moment, we just stood there, taking each other in. We looked like different people—no, like the same people we’d always been, just… more complete. More right. The jerseys felt like they belonged on us, like we’d been wearing them forever.
Suddenly, a towering figure in a golden jersey stormed into the room, barking orders at us like a drill sergeant. “You boys think you’re Golden Army material?” he growled, his eyes intense and challenging.
“Yes, sir!” Cody and I shouted in unison, our voices filled with pride. We didn’t even think about it—the words came naturally, with conviction. We felt honored to be here, like we’d earned our place. I glanced over at Cody, no longer thinking of him as my boyfriend but as Dan, my teammate, my brother on the field. And I knew, deep down, he felt the same about me.
We marched into the final room together, feeling powerful, unstoppable. Every step was steady and assured, each movement purposeful. I glanced down at my arms, now sculpted and muscular, veins prominent under the skin. Cody looked just as transformed, his once-slight frame now radiating strength and confidence. We weren’t the nerdy couple who’d walked in just an hour ago; we were Jake and Dan, proud members of the Golden Army, ready to crush it on the field.
As we left the haunted house, the cold night air hit us, but it didn’t faze us. Our only thought was that we were here, together, as teammates, as brothers. The last remnants of our old selves faded, leaving only pride, loyalty, and an unbreakable bond. All that mattered now was the team, the game, and each other.
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sweetandsavageautistic · 9 months ago
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(CW: Cringe, Autism Parents stuff, drunk mention, infantilization)
So I don't have a degree in Graphic Design, but I do have a sense of general aesthetic. I figured that it's April. Let's rate, and potentially verbally tear apart and drag through the mud, some autism shirts and graphic designs, and I'll probably do a part 2, these scores are only semi-arbitrary: First up is this:
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Already off the top, I am confusion because it seems to read "I wear puzzle cousin autism awareness". Sounds like whoever made this was drunk.
Puzzle pieces, ew.
The red, yellow, green, and blue look like the shades you'd see in elementary school, so that seems pretty infantilizing.
Autism Awareness, I am very much aware of my existence.
Final Score: 0 out of 10. Designer, go home; you're drunk.
Next we have this:
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This one already has a slight advantage over the first because it's at least coherent in terms of the message.
Elementary school colors, but make it extra tacky.
Puzzle pieces; don't try to bullshit me by putting the autism awareness banner over it, I can see the other indents that make them puzzle pieces.
Once again, I am well aware of my own existence.
At least it's a smaller design.
Final Score: 0.5 out of 10, and that's being generous.
Next one's not a shirt, but it still counts:
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No blue so thank God for that.
This is up to personal preference, but to me, the person-first language is giving "I need to be reminded that someone is a person."
Puzzle pieces. Ew. Don't BS me, I can see them.
Walk down Autism Lane. (it's right below the word LOVE) Sorry, but we don't allow ableists on Autism Lane; you need to be a premium member and to be a premium member, you need to not be a dick.
The pumpkin disturbs me for some reason, and not in the Halloween way; I mean, it just straight-up disturbs me.
Final Score: 0.5 out of 10. Bury it in a shallow grave.
Just found this one:
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It's easy on the eyes at least.
No tacky elementary school colors.
No puzzle pieces.
The bunny's cute, but this also seems very infantilizing.
Person first language is a no for me.
Why are all of the is lowercase, but the others are uppercase?
Final Score: 5 out of 10. Not great, but not terrible.
Here we have simple:
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Elementary school colors, but credit where credit's due; it's not terrible on the eyes.
Why is blessed on there three times?
One big-ass puzzle piece.
"Autism blesses" Yes, because being bullied by my peers, being indirectly told who I am is wrong, having the worst time making friends, always feeling like I'm never truly part of a friend group, being confused when some adults got mad at me, not having anyone to play with at 4 years old is an absolute fucking blessing. /s And that's the tip of the iceberg.
"Fun", "Sweet", "Cute".....it's the infantilization for me.
Final Score: 3 out of 10. No further elaboration.
Then there's this monstrosity:
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I call this color Patronizing Paraprofessional Blue, aka the tackiest shade of blue ever.
It looks like something one of those older white suburban millennial moms would wear. Like something a Karen would wear to one of those autism walks or one of those social skills teachers who talk in that slowed-down patronizing kindergarten teacher tone with that fake-ass smile, no matter how old you are. You know the one I'm talking about, right? Yeah, they'd wear this.
Puzzle piece. Light It Up Blue. Ew.
We all know what organization this supports.
Final Score: -10 out of 10. Burn it.
Let's get in a good one to counter that abomination of a shirt and end part one on a higher note:
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Nice simple design with a black background.
No tacky elementary school colors.
Identity-first language.
Really counters the....what the fuck would it be called? The UwU autism parent thing? ("I am his voice, he is my heart," "See the able, not the label," etc,.) It counters that.
The light sparkle around "a bitch" is chef's kiss.
Final Score: 11 out of 10. Perfection.
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coquettebeautiful · 2 months ago
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hayakawalove · 2 months ago
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Swing, Swing Baby
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Summary: You go to a party with your husband for Halloween, but it isn't just any type of party. It's a swinging party. He goes off to find a partner of his own, and that's when you meet Eren. He shows you just how fun swinging can be.
A/N: Another kinktober fic! ...Late. I know! But we only have one more after this. These are coming out late, but better late than never, right? Comments are appreciated! I'd love to know what you think!
CW: Smut, Swingers, Costumes, 69 (Sex Position), Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Alcohol, Dirty Talk, AFAB Reader, Gender Neutral Reader
W/C: 1,690
Credit to cafekitsune for the banner
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It’s loud in here. Music bounces off the walls, filling the house with bass. Your husband is long gone by now, his comforting presence no longer by your side. It’s not like you’re anxious - you’ve just never been here before. This was the first time you and your husband decided to go to a party like this. 
Lights fill the living room as you walk on the sidelines, your eyes glued to the couples around you. It’s a mess of tongue and roaming hands, the sight causing your gut to warm. 
“Hey, I haven’t seen you here before.” A man says next to you. 
You jump in place before swiveling your head in his direction. A lump forms in your throat when you realize how attractive he is. He has long brown hair pulled into a bun, with bright green eyes popping out of his skeleton makeup. 
“Probably cause I haven’t been here before,” you tease, fully facing him.
He’s shameless in the way he lets his eyes drag across your figure, slowly at first until he reaches your face. Your skin is warm all over, but you feign confidence. 
“Touché. What’s your name?” 
You tell him your name and he tells you his, Eren, before he offers to get you a drink. You let him because you figure you’ll need something to ease your nerves. It’s hard to figure out why he’s talking to you, when presumably he could have anyone at this party. 
Eren comes back with two red solo cups, one for you and one for him. His magnetic green eyes watch you as you take a small sip of the drink before holding it close to you. 
“Any good?” He questions, taking a gulp of his before leaning against the wall beside you. 
He made two margaritas, the lime juice embedded in your bottom lip as you speak. 
“It is pretty good.” You say, looking around the room. “Where’s your partner?” 
Eren chuckles and follows your gaze. Maybe you weren’t supposed to ask that? It was hard not to, you were incredibly curious. Where was she? Was she in this room, watching you speak to him? Or was she already coupled off with someone else? You had to know. 
“She’s with another guy already. It never really takes her long to find someone.” 
“Oh, so you’ve been to this kind of party before?” 
Eren grins at you, and you try not to let the anxiety claw at your insides. 
“Yeah, a couple times. They’re always super fun, and the people are nice. But I will say, I’ve never met someone like you before.” 
Your cheeks burn at the comment, and you eye him as he scoots closer. His cologne fills the air around you, a mixture of sandalwood and nutmeg. 
“Yeah?” You straighten up, looking into his eyes. 
“Yeah, you look great in your costume.” He murmurs, dragging a finger across your skirt. 
You were dressed as a butterfly, at least that’s what you were going for anyway. It wasn’t overtly obvious with the skirt and tight shirt you wore, but the wings on your back certainly helped. 
You lean forward, pressing your chest against his as the tension between you grows. All of a sudden you forget that you’re even at a party; in your head it’s just the two of you. 
“Do you want to…should we…” you breathe out, your mind jumbling all the words that fall from your lips. 
Eren chuckles and pulls away, holding out a hand for you. “Do you want to find somewhere private?” 
You agree maybe too readily, causing him to grin. His touch is warm beneath you, his fingers intertwined with yours as he leads you down a long hall. 
It’s impossible to keep your hands to yourself for too long. He turns around and smashes lips against yours as he walks towards a vacant room. Anticipation starts to grow in your stomach. You were going to sleep with someone besides your husband. There was only one rule. You couldn’t go all the way with your partner. Your husband agreed to follow the rule as well. You whisper the rule to Eren between messy kisses and slick tongues, and he easily accepts. It shouldn’t be too hard to follow, even if you really want more from him.  
The two of you stumble into an empty bedroom, with wandering fingers scraping exposed skin. The light is already low and the bed looks a bit too inviting. Eren parts away from your lips, before laying on the plain bed, his body relaxed as he waits for you. 
“What-“ you begin, unsure what he’s getting at. 
“Want you on top of my face,” he sighs out, adjusting the pillow behind his head before beckoning you with two fingers. “Come on.” 
There’s lead in your throat and weights on your feet as you glide over to the bed. It doesn’t even creak as you ease yourself on top of his lean body. The two of you are still fully dressed, a fact you’re well aware of based on the rising of your body temperature. There’s no time to take your clothes off. No time for anything else but this. 
You position yourself on your hands and knees above him, with your face inches from his growing core, the bulge of it not lost on you. It's making your mouth water, the way you can see his cock twitch and jump beneath his black jeans. 
Eren’s making quick work of your underwear behind you, taking it off so fast the fabric nearly rips. He must be as excited for this as you are. Maybe even more excited than you. 
“Eren-“ you chide, not wanting your underwear to rip. 
He cuts you off immediately, his tongue diving into your pulsing heat. You let out a drawn out groan, your body jumping in surprise. Eren wraps his hands around your thighs, dragging you further down on his face. 
You claw at his legs, briefly forgetting this was supposed to be a mutual activity. Eren reminds you easily, swatting the side of your ass as he slides his tongue over your cunt. You let out a moan before fumbling with his pants. Your shaky hands pull down his zipper, before you ease his cock from the confines of his boxers. 
It fills your hand nicely, the weight of it pushes against the inside of your palm. He’s harder than you thought possible, and there’s already a steady stream of precum dripping from his slit. 
It looks too good to resist. 
You flick your tongue against his tip, reveling in the shaky breath he lets out behind you. The air is warm against your clit while he circles his tongue around. You have no time to focus on how good it feels. You open your mouth wider to take him in more, letting his cock slip past your lips and down your throat until it’s all you feel. He’s hitting the back of your throat in a way that you know will leave bruises, but somehow that makes it even better. 
“Just, just like that.” He speaks against your pussy, words ghosting over your tender flesh as he dives his tongue into your hole. 
You rock back against his face, letting his hands guide you back and forth as you use his tongue. Your head is bobbing now, while you drag your tongue on the underside of his cock. The noises the two of you are making are downright filthy. You would be inclined to believe the whole house could hear you, if it weren’t for the blaring music downstairs. 
Eren sticks his tongue out to circle your clit, his grip tightening as your moans increase. You briefly wonder if the concoction of his spit and your cum will smudge his Halloween makeup, but you don’t have much time to think before he wraps his lips around you. He’s sucking your swollen clit with everything he has, the pressure making your breath hitch. It's a miracle you aren’t passing out from oxygen loss between his skills and his cock. 
You swallow around him, your throat constricting around his cock before you speed up. The inside of your mouth is covered with his precum, the taste salty sweet as it flows down your esophagus. 
“Fuck yeah baby,” he moans against you. “Shiiiit,” Eren whimpers. 
Your high is approaching all too fast. If you had it your way, you wouldn’t be leaving this room for the next several hours. You think he must be getting close too, judging by the way his hips are rotating beneath you, as if he’s trying to reach as deep as he can into your throat. 
Eren sucks your clit one more time and that’s all you need to be pushed over the edge. You moan admittedly loudly around his cock, letting him slip even deeper than before. He buries his face against your pussy to swallow every drop of cum you so graciously give, before rutting his hips against your mouth. He cums not a moment later than you, the warm liquid seeping down your throat. There’s so much of it that it easily starts to drip from the corners of your lips, making a mess out of your chin. 
You swallow as much of it as you can before popping off, slipping your tongue out to clean your lips. When you slide off his face to sit next to him, you notice that he looks like a mess. As much of a mess as you probably look. His luscious locks are this way and that, ruining the perfect bun he wore before. There’s a lustsick expression on his face, and your cum covers his mouth and chin. You let out a giggle at the sight before he follows, his rich voice filling the small room. Eren reaches a thumb up to drag across his bottom lip, wiping away your cum. 
“Let me know if your husband ever changes his mind on your guy's rule,” He says, his tone joking but you know he most certainly isn’t. 
You can agree on that. 
79 notes · View notes
staytinyville · 2 days ago
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WHAT'S THIS?
↣ Summary: You were always different from those of Christmas Town. Something was missing inside of you that you needed to find. Have you possibly gone daffy?
↣ Characters/Pairing: Ragdoll!Hongjoong x Elf!Reader
↣ Genre: Smut, fluff
↣ AU/Trope info: Nightmare Before Christmas!AU, Monster!Au, Jacob’s ladder deal with penis, 
↣ Word Count:
↣ Warnings: Soft sex, Christmas/Halloween Fluff, love at first sight
↣ A/N: To the ever great @catkyunie for Secret Santa. I had another thing planned but ultimately decided on this because I watched the movie four times in a weekend. I love the soundtrack so much man. Also I’ve had the idea to make a Nightmare Before Christmas AU for a while now but it wasn’t this story exactly. I love the movie so much so I hope it comes out as well I hope it did. 
Staytinyville’s Permanent Taglist
↣ Affiliates: @cromernet , @pirateeznet , @k-labels , @k-vanity
↣ Special Thanks: Thank you @saradika-graphics for the amazing banners! Please go check her out if you have specific banners in mind. She is great!
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Never go near the Holiday Trees. 
For as long as one could remember, the elves were told that. It was centuries ago when the rule was brought up after a very troublesome Halloween town citizen decided they wanted to take over Christmas. 
Things have changed–the children have changed. There was no better holiday compared to the rest. Each person had their favorite, and so the ones in charge didn’t bother with the other holidays for fear of being less than happy. 
But that didn’t mean those who were in charge of the holidays still couldn’t feel as though there was something missing within themselves. 
You could hear the soft crunch of your reindeer companion following behind you, bleating small sounds as it found berries and grass to eat. It happily continued to munch while you frowned deeply at the prospect of walking through a foot of snow. 
It bothered you. You could see how all the other elves were easily able to navigate themselves through the snow on light feet–not sinking down to end up buried in it. It was your fault, you figured. Not having the simple little magic everyone else had. 
You couldn’t make toys. Couldn’t bring joy to the children who you had to watch over every once in a while. You couldn’t even make cookies that somehow every elf knew how to make from scratch. You were the odd ball in the town full of ridiculously happy citizens that mocked you every chance they could. 
Well, maybe they didn’t mock you because that would be very naughty of them. But you did feel bad everytime they tried to teach you something and you just couldn’t get it. There was something missing. And year after year, it hurt to see Christmas come and go without your help. 
Your ears twitch as you trudge through the thick snow trying to find more pine cones to fill your family tree with. You were wrapped in double scarves, your ears and nose covered. The snow was thinning out the further in you went and by then your legs were so tired you were half tempted to fall over into the snow to rest for a moment. 
You sniffled, nose starting to run but you used your sleeve to brush it away. By the time you realized it, the snow had cleared completely all of a sudden which caused you to trip over your own feet and fall flat onto the forest floor. 
“Oof.” You groaned, shuffling out of the snowy area and onto the dirt. 
Pine needles stuck to your face as you shuffled yourself to stand up, coming to sit on your knees and look around the clearing. 
You felt a shiver go through your body as you stared up at the tree that had a large pumpkin door on its trunk. You glanced around for a moment more, seeing the rest of the holiday doors waiting for someone to open them. You finally got up onto your legs, the jingle bells on your feet and hat making a sound each time you moved. 
You knew exactly where you were and found it odd that you were even here. The location of these trees are only known to the Claus’s, so to be able to reach this place was something you couldn’t fathom. 
Each door was different from the last. Some brighter than others while some just seemed so plain. The pumpkin with the large grin stared back at you as you reached it last. It’s smile was dark, almost a pitch black that had you losing yourself within it. Each jagged edge looked like it would prick you if you dared to touch it. 
And yet you still found yourself reaching for the door knob nose, muscles straining just a bit as the knob seemed stuck for a moment. But it finally moved after a moment, startling you with how easy it was to pull the door open.
It was even darker inside, a gust of wind blowing through causing red and orange leaves to fall out. Your nose crinkled at the smell of black licorice. But you still stuck your head further in, trying to make out something inside the abyss of the tree. 
Suddenly you could hear a humming. A sound that went together to form some kind of lullaby that almost put you to sleep. You strained your ears to hear more of it, trying to make out the words. 
“Sometimes you gotta move forward. Just take it step by step. And then you’ll notice you’ve found your place…”
Just a bit more, you told yourself, moving closer. 
Just a bit more ended up being too much though. Before you realized it, your little jingle bells tinkled one last time before everything turned black. 
It was a whirlwind of bright lights and empty space that you felt like you were floating in. Gravity did not exist as you fell. You wanted to grab onto something but the only thing it seemed like you could do was scream into the void. 
It was a quick journey. Not even half a minute as you felt a force suddenly drag you towards a direction. Your back hit against a surface before it vanished and you fell through. You let out a loud gasp, bright colors filling your vision as you were thrown into a much warmer place.
Before you tumbled onto the floor, you quickly caught sight of the sharp edges of a christmas tree shape on the trunk of a tree. You rolled over, grunting as you landed on your back, your legs falling down quickly and your body becoming exhausted. 
You took in a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. It was a bit but you slowly allowed yourself to feel the ground around you trying to make sure you were in fact on some kind of surface. 
Turning your head from side to side, you noticed you were back in the clearing of holiday trees. Only this time there was no Halloween one. Raising slowly to sit up, you took notice of how there was no snow covering the ground or pine trees that were losing needles. 
Instead the trees were barren almost, the leaves left on the branches ranging from a yellow to brown color. Most of them seemed to be on the floor, waiting to be picked up. 
There was a sudden squirming feeling under your legs, like an animal was trying to get out from under you. You frowned, scooting back and pulling your knees up to grab at whatever it was. It wasn’t furry, nor was it that large. It wiggled around, your eyebrows pinching together as you felt multiple limbs. 
“What’s this?” You asked yourself, pulling the object out from under you. 
When you finally grasped it fully, your eyes went wide as it suddenly grabbed ahold of your hand. Pulling it out, the thing hanging from your hand was another hand. However it was severed at the wrist. 
“Oh my Kringle!” You screamed, throwing the hand away from you. 
You gasped louder as it began to wiggle and suddenly upright itself. It scurried away behind a tree, catching your attention as something seemed to bend down to grab it. Whatever it was shuffled back from view, their foot being the last to be hidden. 
Tilting your head in confusion you realized it was a person who was standing on the other side. The voice you heard earlier was suddenly starting to make sense, so you gradually became more curious. 
“I know you’re there.” You called out, crawling closer to the tree. 
You sighed when they didn’t move nor say anything. You thought to yourself for a moment, thinking back to how the person singing felt so sad. 
“The song you were singing–are you okay?”
“Of course I am.” They quickly spoke up. 
Your eyebrows shot up, smiling to yourself that you got them to speak. “It didn’t sound like you were.” You continued. “Are you going to come out?”
“You are not from Halloween Town.” He told you. 
“I’m from Christmas Town.” You shook your head, the bells jingling from the top of your hat. “A bit much isn’t it?” You giggled, wiggling your feet with the same bells. 
He scoffed playfully. “Just a bit.” 
“You have an amazing voice. I wish to hear more of it, please.” You crawled closer to the tree. “Will you please come out?” 
You could hear them shuffling around in contemplation. It took a moment but slowly they walked out one foot after the other. It was something out of a fairytale seeing him for the first time. 
You began to hum for some reason, hearing the ring of a jingle bell go off in your ear. He was deliberate in the way he walked. He was careful, but still it looked graceful. The first thing that caught your attention though, were the stitches that stretched across his mouth. 
“You’re stitches–do they hurt?” You asked quietly, coming to a stand. 
You walked closer to him, hands twitching at your side as you wanted to reach up and touch him. 
“No.” He spoke up, watching you intently. 
You raised your hands, moving them closer to his face. But you caught yourself, stopping as you realized it would be rude to just touch him. 
“May I?’ You asked quietly, waiting for his reply. 
He looked down at your raised hands, your curious eyes on his scars. “Sure.”
You lightly skimmed your fingers across his mouth. The tips of your longer fingers touched at his lips while they moved across the bumpy patches. You were scared of hurting him, so you didn’t try pressing them harder into his skin when your curiosity peaked at how the skin parted and created a hole. You wondered if they would open up, your hand passing through his cheek. 
When you looked up at his eyes, you found him staring at something near the side of your head. Your large pointed ears twitched at his stare, causing him to flinch just the tiniest bits. His hands shook at his side, almost coming up. 
“You can go ahead.” You told him, moving your head to the side to allow him the space to touch your ears. 
He tentatively reached up, fingers grazing the shell of your ear just as yours touched his stitches. He started at the bottom before smoothly gliding upwards. It wasn’t until they began to touch the tips of your ears that you suddenly felt a shiver go down your spine. 
You let out a tiny gasp, eyes fluttering shut as your lips pressed together. He suddenly pulled back from you, your own hand falling from his face. 
“Sorry.” He quickly said, waiting for your reply. 
“It’s okay.” You beamed up at him. “They’re just sensitive.”
“Hongjoong!”
Both of you suddenly turned around, hearing the call. 
The man’s eyes went wide, suddenly grabbing you and pushing you back towards the Christmas Tree. 
“You have to go.”
“What? Why?” You questioned, looking around trying to find whoever had called.
“You are not supposed to be here. We are not supposed to go to other holidays.”
He continued, opening the door and about to shove you through until you stopped yourself. 
“But–your singing.” You quietly said. “I really loved it.”
He paused, lips pressing together. His eyes twinkled almost, as if he could he would be blushing from your compliment. 
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” He told you softly. 
“Joong!” 
You suddenly turned around, ready to be pushed back into the tree but you had something to ask him first. 
“You have to go now.”
“Will I see you again?” You asked, hoping he would say yes. 
He seemed stunned for a moment, looking back to where the sound of rustling leaves were heard. 
“Come tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”
Your lips pulled up into a smile, feeling something warm fill your chest. Just as someone was about to enter the clearing, you felt the suction of the tree pulling you back in. 
“Goodbye.” You heard one last moment before falling. 
**
“Oh he was amazing, Mrs Claus!” You sighed, picking up the tinsel the old lady wanted to move. “He was so devastatingly pretty. Nothing could compare to him. And-And his singing! So hauntingly beautiful. It was alluring in such a way that left me breathless.”
“It sounds like you're in love, dear.” The jolly ole’ woman hummed, shaking around as she sprinkled something on some cookies. 
“You really think so?” You smiled bashfully, looking down at the gingerbread man you were decorating. 
You looked down at the cookie, eyebrows pulling up at the smirk the cookie seemed to be sporting. It have little triangles at it’s lips, the red icing popping out. Black icing covered it’s forehead in a line, stitches being show as though it had been put together. 
Looking up you noticed Mrs. Claus turning around with another batch, quickly shoving the sweet into your mouth to prevent her from seeing it. While you were too worried someone would catch on to your secret, you hadn’t even noticed that the cookie was created to perfection.
You could hear the other elves giggling at your antics.  
“Tell me, do you feel a warmth that comes from inside?” The old lady continued grinning. 
You swallowed before contemplating her question. Before long you realized she had been right, a soft smile falling on your lips as you thought about Hongjoong. 
“I've never felt so good before. This empty place inside of me is filling up.” You spoke quietly. 
“That's a good thing dear. No more worries.”
You decorated another batch of cookies, too preoccupied to even notice that you were creating some kinds of monsters along the men. But you were in the clouds, thinking about the man who you had come across. The elves only looked at you oddly, but didn’t make a comment because they could see that you were not about to answer. 
You continued on your way, out of the kitchen area. Just as you opened the door though, you flinched at the four men who were standing on the other side with wide grins on their faces. Well a wide grin on one of their faces. 
“Why are you just standing there?” You asked them. 
“We know where you went.” Wooyoung the first to always say something told you.  
You pushed them aside, continuing on your journey back to your house. “Where did I go?”
“You went through the tree.” Jongho spoke up. 
You tensed up but tried not to show it. 
“The Halloween tree.” Yeosang prattled. 
“Is he a monster?” Yunho asked. 
“Who?” You played dumb. 
“The man you're in love with.” Wooyoung giggled. 
“I'm not in love.” You shook your head, opening the door to the kitchen shop and walking out into the cold air. 
“We beg to differ. What is he?” Yunho asked. 
“He's nothing.” You spoke up without thought. 
“So there is someone.”
“No.” You stopped turning to look at them. “Drop it. There is no one.”
“You told Mrs Claus there was, though.” Yeosang said. 
“Were you eavesdropping?” You glared at all of them.
“We always do.” Jongho shrugged. “How do you think we knew Holly was secretly seeing Tinsel?”
You glared at the boys, feeling ticked with their wide grins. 
“I'm going home.” You declared, turning around. “Do not follow me!”
“Well when they say it like that I want to follow them.”
Yeosang kept his eyes on your retreating figure. More so the way you were walking through the snow without any trouble at all. They were all so used to you sinking in the snow and complaining about the cold that he was quick to notice you did none of those the moment they were outside. 
“Did you notice they didn’t sink into the snow?” Yeosang spoke up softly, watching as your feet seemed lightweight in the snow. 
“You think they’re finally getting into the Christmas spirit?” Yunho asked his friend. 
They thought about how you were talking about someone who seemed to have caught your attention. There was only one way to describe the way you had told Mrs. Claus about the person. The adjectives you had used were not ones they were used to and it was clear from where this person had come from. 
But whoever it was that had caught your attention, they started something that you were in desperate need of. 
“It’s some kind of spirit.”
**
It was a few days later when the four elves were finally able to follow you into the woods. They were pushing and shoving each other as each time they would lift a foot, their bells would jingle. But you were still none the wiser as you had something occupying your mind. 
They stilled for a moment behind a tree, almost falling onto the ground that seemed to be devoid of snow. Peaking over the other, they tried their best to see where you were going. And when you pulled open a door in one of the trees they were quick to understand. 
“They aren’t actually going there are they?” Yunho asked with wide eyes. 
You climbed the small steps, peering into the hallow tree. 
“I think they are.” Wooyoung gasped. 
Hearing their loud mouths, you turned around finding their bodies heading your way in a rushed manner. Your eyes went wide and you held your hands in front of you to keep them from pushing.
“(Y/N)!” Yeosang yelled, shoving into you. 
The world went black and you found yourself falling into the empty space you had grown used to these past few days. You could hear the boys screams and yells trying to find something to grab onto. 
With the impact on your back, you grunted when all of a sudden gravity made the four boys fall on you full force. You skid along the floor for a moment, groaning like you had the first time you came through the door. 
Once you got your baring together, you began to slap a hand on one of the boys. 
“What are you idiots doing!?” You pushed them off.
“Don’t hurt us!” Jongho raised his arms. 
“It seems we weren’t the only ones who had the idea to follow.”
You looked up, coming across four faces all looking down at you. 
“Hongjoong.” You quickly said. 
“Get off me!” You tried to shove Wooyoung off, the man shivering as he looked up at the other Halloween citizens. 
“They are monsters!” He sobbed, hiding in your stomach. 
“Who?” The one with horns asked with wide puppy looking eyes. 
“I know you are not talking about us, Darling.” Another grinned, his kanine teeth sharp as he looked at Wooyoung. 
Wooyoung whimpered again, hugging you closer once more. 
“Leave him alone, Seonghwa.” Hongjoong rolled his eyes, moving to help you up. 
“Is this your sweet?” You heard the giggle of one. 
He began playing the bell on your hat, smiling to himself as his large fluffy ears flickered from every sound they made. 
“Such a jolly little thing.” The other with sharp teeth spoke quietly, looking at you with a charming grin. 
“Seonghwa.” Hongjoong warned, pulling you closer to him. 
“You know I love knew friends, Joongie.” Seonghwa chuckled. “Especially the adorable ones.”
He spoke directly to Yeosang and Yunho who stood off huddled behind Jongho. The two blushed at the man’s words, flustered from his compliment. 
“Welcome all of you to Halloween.” The one with dog ears spoke up. “We hope you enjoy your time here.”
He had moved to pick up Wooyoung, but the moment the man took a look at the werewolf’s face he began to blush a bright red. Wooyoung squeaked, looking up from the floor before scrambling into Jongho’s hold. 
You began to giggle, feeling Hongjoong’s hand squeeze yours tightly. There was something about the way Hongjoong’s friends were so friendly that made you more then excited to meet them all. 
“My name is San.” The one with wolf ears spoke up, a smile on his face as he waited eagerly for your friends to say something. 
“I am Seonghwa.” The vampire bowed at his waist, hand along his torso.
“Mingi.” The boy with horns and wide eyes said, looking hopeful at each of your friends. 
The elves all watched them curious eyes but they didn’t say anything else.
“Don’t be rude, boys.” You immediatly said, catching their attention. 
They bowed at their waists, introducing themselves to Hongjoong’s friends. You smiled greatfully at the way they all started talking as though they had known each other forever. 
Seonghwa made another suggestive comment that had left Wooyoung flustered and hiding behind Jongho.
“Are they all like that?” You giggled. 
“Only Seonghwa.” Hongjoong snorted. “Are your friends always like that?”
“Only Wooyoung.”
**
There was a breeze that swept through the trees bringing down leaves that seemed to be never ending. You reached out for one that had fallen in front of you, twirling it around from the stem. 
“Hongjoong.” You quietly spoke out loud, turning to the man who was laying on his back with his eyes closed. 
He hummed, lips barely being pulled into a smile as he was enjoying his time. You leaned closer, laying on your stomach. You played with the leaf, dragging it along his nose. He scrunched up, trying to hold in his sneeze. 
“What is it, Jingle?” He asked you after swatting you away. 
You tilted your head to the side, glancing down his body. 
“Are you able to–you know–” You wiggled your hand down towards his thighs, gesturing to what’s between his legs. 
Hongjoong’s eyes quickly shot open, a frown on his face as he realized what you were gesturing to. He looked at you with an odd face, eyebrows raised to the sky as his stitches pulled his cheeks. 
“Why are you asking about it?” He asked you.
“The others talked about those kinds of things and you didn’t say anything.” You sat up, the bell on your hat ringing. “You just stayed quiet and listened to them go on and on.”
He sat up and shrugged. “I didn’t feel the need to.” He explained. “I’m not the kind of person who would do those kinds of things. Besides, I’m too busy to think about any of it.”
You thought about all the times that you were not able to hang out with Hongjoong. Especially when Halloween starts showing up. But you figured it was the same way with everyone else. Even the boys were sometimes too busy to hang out with you when Christmas was coming around. 
With the fact that you were not able to enjoy christmas the way everyone else was, things were different for you. You had all the time in the world to enjoy life, while others were busy. You could only imagine how much of a pain it was for Hongjoong being the head of Halloween. 
“You said you were the Pumpkin King, right?” You asked. 
He nodded his head, tilting it to the side as he wondered where you were going. 
You turned back around, scooting back so that you could fall into his arms. He happily held them open for you, allowing you to lay you back against his chest. His nosed at your cheek, feeling the warmth from your always red skin. 
“”It must be really hard to find someone.” You told him. 
He paused, stitches being pulled as a small smile fell onto his lips. “I don’t think it’s really all that hard.” He said. 
You turned to look at him, your eyes sparkling as they took in the soft way he looked at you. “So you do have someone?”
You were about to move out of his arms, causing him to giggle as he crushed you back between his arms. His head fell to your neck, giving you simple kisses that had you laughing. 
“It took years but I finally found someone who means more to me than being Pumpkin King.”
You turned around swiftly, legs moving to either side of his thighs. “More than being Pumpkin king?” You shook your head. “That’s one of the greatest honors a Halloween Town citizen can have. It’s like the Santa of Halloween.”
He laughed, smiling. He brought his forehead down to touch yours. “I was created to be the next Pumpkin King. The bones I have within me belonged to a past one and yet just like them I longed to find something that would fill an emptiness that would not go away.”
“There’s something out there, far from my home, a longing that I’ve never known.” He hummed quietly, bringing his hand up to touch your cheek. 
He leaned back down against the blanket, bringing you with him. You placed your hands on his chest, allowing him to stroke your back as you got comfortable atop him. 
“That longing could only be filled by someone like you.”
You softly placed your lips against his lips, stealing his breath as your emotions rose. Your hand moved into his hair, softly scratching at the scalp. There was a moan that fell from his lips at the stimulation, which made you pull back in fright. 
You pulled yourself up, staring down at him. He was panting, eyes drooping as he looked up at you. 
“I’m not going to stop.” He said breathlessly. 
You gasped quietly, as he pulled you closer, quickly turning over to lay over you. He reached up to rub his hand against your cheek softly, staring at you with sharp eyes that seemed to make you melt. 
You raised your own hand, thumbing at his stitches that fell directly from his eyes. “I don’t want you to.”
His next kiss was electrifying. It was harsh and demanding but even though it seemed that way, it was clear neither of you knew what to do. It was not your first kiss but it was the first time you were feeling as though summer was creeping through your bones. 
His tongue swept out to touch your bottom lip, allowing you the room to open your mouth for him. This was out of the ordinary for you, never really knowing what it was like to be with someone in this way. 
But everything Hongjoon did, you didn’t dare want to question. It made you feel an excitement–a warmth you had been longing for, for such a long time. It was exhilarating, magnificent. It was terrifying to feel such a need for Hongjoong. 
You pulled away from him breathlessly, the cooling air coming from the fall breeze did nothing to cool you. The red you always had on your skin from the biting cold was no longer your body trying to warm you up to survive. This time the flush you had was because of Hongjoong. And he wanted to see much more of it. 
His thigh nudged itself in between your own, opening your legs for his body to move in between. There was something between his legs you had never felt before and it was leaving you to burn up. Your knees were pulled up, allowing Hongjoong the space to slot himself perfectly. 
The hands you had behind his head moved, wanting to feel more of his skin so you placed them under his shirt, feeling the soft skin of his shoulders. Before you realized it, the man leaned up, quickly taking off his shirt that had you leaning on your elbows to stare at him wide eyed. 
The stitches. The discoloration of each patch of skin. His muscles. 
Nothing could ever compare to the haunting beauty someone like Kim Hongjoong had. He was someone who was created to rule–someone who demanded attention in his own way. Even if he wasn’t completely his own, the way he was put together was meant to be one of a kind. 
“What?” He smiled at you, chuckling at the look you had. 
“I’ve never seen someone like you.” You spoke softly. 
Hongjoong frowned just for a moment, about to lean back and away from you feeling like there was something wrong. You quickly caught on though, reaching back up to pull him closer to you. You placed your forehead against his, closing your eyes as your lips brushed his in a soft way. 
Once again, you rubbed at his stitches, this time the ones near his mouth. Opening your eyes he watched as you looked at him with such an intense stare it made him want to cry. 
“Someone like you means that nothing will ever compare to the kind of beauty you have.” You whispered. “In all my years of living–you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
“Thank you.” He whispered. 
You leaned back in to give him a kiss. This time you allowed him to take off your coat, the green fabric falling behind you as you climbed into Hongjoong’s lap. He was rushing though, seeming more attached to you as he laid you down again.
His hands moved under your shirt, pushing it up as he tried to reveal your breasts. The bra you wore was plain, nothing fancy because of the standard elf uniform. You would have never thought about dressing pretty for Hongjoong, but now that he is looking at you the way he is, you wished you had. 
However he didn’t seem to mind as he quickly pushed your bra cups up and over your nipple so he could see them. You squeaked, looking up at him, shoulders scrunched up causing your arms to push your boobs together more. 
Hongjoong started to smile, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “You are so precious.”
You laughed, his body leaning over to give you a peck before he dove down to tongue at your chest. Your chuckle was cut off when his mouth encased a nipple. A sharp gasp left your lip, back arching to chase his tongue laving at you. 
You felt him snicker against your skin, so you glanced down to find him already smiling up at you devilishly as your nipple was caught between his teeth. You were getting tired of your shirt and bra being in the way so you made a rush to take them off. 
With the only thing left being your skirt and tights, Hongjoong took a moment to look at you. You wanted to feel self conscious, but the way his fingers skimmed your sides and touched you things couldn’t be going any slower. 
He took in a breath. “Are you sure you want to do this?” 
You nodded your head, wanting to reach for him again. 
“I need you to answer me.” His lips wobbled, almost as if he was trying to reassure himself. 
“I love you, Hongjoong.” Was all you told him. 
His lips twitched, fingers digging into your skin for just a moment as he took in your response. “I love you too, Jingle.”
You raised your hips up, moving to pull your skirt and tights down in one go as the fall breeze finally touched your heated core. There was no need for underwear when you wore tights. And it seemed like Hongjoong appreciated it a lot because he seemed to straightened up at the sigh of you. 
“I’m going to take off my pants. Okay?” He told you, pulling at his belt. 
You sat up, confused why he was shaking as he took off his pants. You began to worry maybe he didn’t want to be one with you in that way. 
“Hongjoong you don’t have to do this.” You quickly told him, sitting up. Your hands went to stop him but he lightly shoved you away. 
“I want to.” He told you. “I just–Don’t exactly look like all the others. I don’t have the same appendage as everyone else.”
“What do you mean?” You asked. 
There wasn’t exactly anything you could compare it to. It’s not like the other elves go around telling stories of their escapades or how things worked within a relationship. You only could question him. Because as far as you could tell Hongjoong, this was going to be your first time doing anything like this. 
“It has–stitches.” He cringed at the thought, which only made you frown. 
You sat up, pulling your knees under you. Your hand went to his pants, making him freeze up, his hands clenched into fists at his side. You began to pull them down, not removing the eye contact you had with him. But he was quick to look down at where you were going. 
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” You told him honestly. “But I want you to know that no matter what you have you will always be someone beautiful to me.” 
He gulped, nodding his head. “You make me feel less dead inside.”
You smiled, fingers now dancing along his shaft. He moaned out quietly, and you felt it twitch up. 
“And you give me the warmth of a thousand melting snowflakes.” You pushed to touch his lips with yours. 
You felt him move to wrap your hand around his entire length, finally feeling the ridges of the stitches he was talking about along your palm. They were on the underside of his shaft, running along the entire length. You moaned from how warm he felt in your hand. 
You thumbed at the bumps, feeling against your lips how he would groan. He took off the rest of his pants, pushing and pulling to get you in his desired position. You could feel the warmth he was giving off on your core, and it made you even more heated than you cared to admit. 
“Hongjoong…”You whispered, feeling along his scarred skin. 
“I–I’m trying my best.” He told you, holding himself up with his arms. “This is my first–”
“It’s okay.” You smiled bashfully. “It’s mine too.”
Hongjoong’s lips pulled up feeling something swell in his chest that felt much deeper than anything he could have imagined. Neither of you could think of anything better than getting the chance to be with one another in this way. It was something Hongjoong could only dream of thinking that maybe he would be viewed as something out of the ordinary. 
Hongjoong took in a deep breath, looking down between your legs before moving to touch you. The gasp you let out had him flinching but when he saw your face, he found himself wanting to touch you in places that would have you gasping and out of breath. 
But he found himself losing his own breath, noticing how sensitive the tip of his cock was as his fingers grazed both your hole and his shaft. Each time you would move your hips up just to get his cock to rub against you, he found it harder to hold off from shoving in. 
He wanted to–gosh did he want to–but he wanted to enjoy the moment for a bit more. He didn’t want to rush. He didn’t want to reach the point of cumming prematurely because he wanted this to be good for you too. 
All he had to go by was off what the others would talk about. But this was much more than a simple hook up they seemed to do when they would go out into the real world. This was someone he loved with all his being. 
“Hongjoong.” You called him. 
He looked up from his stupor, pausing when he saw your glazed over look. “Tell me if it hurts.”
You didn’t have to say anything else as he was quick to start pushing in. 
Your toes curled, your legs clenched, you could feel every little bump that came with the stitches. It was something you could never describe. You had no idea how to voice to him that you wished you were able to feel it all over again for the first time. 
Hongjoong was going in slowly, choking gasps falling from his lips as every inch that he went in was covered by a pulsing warmth. He was panting, gritting his teeth together to keep from spilling too early. 
“Hongjoong.” You gasped. 
Your back arched, hands splayed against his chest. He leaned to one side, the overwhelming feeling of pleasure taking over. He pulled on your leg to wrap around his waist. Your eyes shot open at the new position, clenching around his length. 
“How–How is it this good?” He gasped out, hand messaging into your thigh. 
His breath hit the tips of your ears, the pointed flesh flicking from the tickle. All he got in response were your whimpers and soft whines. And when you began to move your hips when he bottomed out, Hongjoong couldn’t hold it in. 
“I’m sorry.” He whispered out, smashing his lips to yours in a frenzied manner to keep you occupied while his hips began to move back and forth. 
Your blunt nails dug themselves into his shoulders, pulling at the skin which caused a stinging coming from the stitches he had there. The stinging only made him groan. His hips went faster. 
There was an inexplicable feeling that was beginning to build in the both of you that had you trying to chase it. Hongjoong’s movement became frantic, while you wiggle your hips closer to his. With each rub against his pelvis you felt an even better feeling. And each time you moved up you it felt like you would touch it. So you tried your best to chase the feeling. 
When something started to pull, your pants turned into whimpers and cries in Hongjoong’s ears. 
“(Y/N)...” Hongjoong panted, fingers digging into your leg. 
He didn’t stutter his hips this time, rather than a rhythmic movement, he was pounding in you slowly and trying to get you to cum. And when you did, Hongjoong swore you could almost cut off all circulation with how tight you felt. 
You felt everything when you clenched down and saw stars. You could feel your body becoming overstimulated and your legs began to shake. But you knew that Hongjoong still needed more so you let him continue as you panted and cried. 
And when he came you nearly cried from how primal it was for him. His hand smacked next to your head, clenching at the ground. His forehead laid against yours, your breaths mixing from all the sharp intake of breathing you were doing. He stilled his hips, allowing his length to twitch inside you as you felt a warmth spill from him. 
He sniffled, softly kissing your lips as you both came down from your high. You smiled, feeling the twitches each muscle gave out and the tiredness seeped into you. Your fingers still wanted to touch him so they lightly played along the skin of his chest. 
Finally, Hongjoong leaned to the side, falling over and pulling you close to his side. With his body off of you, you could feel the wind brush past your heated skin. 
For the first time in such a long while the cold didn’t bother you. 
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meracyn · 3 months ago
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first ever male reader request !! for the guys reading this pls have mercy on me if it wasnt too good i apologize 🙏 thank you to @aspergerhero for the opportunity to try something new 🫶
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It’s Halloween.
The day where anyone could dress however they wanted, get lots of free candy and have fun throughout the night, lots of parties and chaos taking part, too.
The sun cast an orange glow across the buildings of Fairy High—decorations adorning every corner with sparkly ropes of lights, carved pumpkins, and more. There was a party prepared tonight; marking the annual Halloween party for students. Most were tingling with excitement as they all hurried to finish preparing everything for the rest of the guests who were yet to arrive.
You adjusted your costume—a fine vampire outfit made out of an expensive silky fabric— a type that suited your family’s wealth. It felt a bit too formal for the occasion, but your parents didn’t want to see any “low quality” as they called it— clothing worn on you. As the only son of a wealthy family, you were used to luxurious parties, but this one was special. It was your chance to spend more time with Lucy, your girlfriend, who had volunteered to help with the decorations along with Gray, Natsu and Wendy.
You made your way to the gym, where the party was set to take place. As you entered, the atmosphere was chaotic but also welcoming. The gym was filled with colorful lights, spooky sound effects (as requested by Natsu), rows of tables filled with drinks and food, as well as a dance floor that shone in the center of the room. Lucy was at a side hanging a ‘welcome!’ banner.
“Y/N! You made it,” Lucy climbed down the ladder she was on, walked over to you and pressed a quick kiss on your cheek. “I thought you weren’t going to come.” She added with a small laugh.
“Of course, I wouldn’t leave you dumped like that.” you replied, smiling as you held her hand after the affectionate gesture.
Just then, Natsu, Gray, and Wendy came in, carrying more boxes that had more decorations inside. “You’re finally here [Y/N]! Come help us out!” Natsu shouted from where the gym doors were.
You excused yourself from Lucy and rushed over to where the three were. “What do you need me to do?”
“Um, could you hold this for me?” Wendy asked a bit shyly, holding a stack of streamers. You nodded and took the things from her hands, walking off to place them where they belonged.
As the hours passed, more people came. Music booming across the place, along with chatter and laughter. ‘The Natsu team’ — as they named it— joked around, Natsu planning to jumpscare their classmates, along with Gray shaking his head, muttering “How childish.” while also agreeing with his plan.
Suddenly Natsu spoke up, “Hey, [Y/N], you should help us with the haunted house.” His eyes were gleaming with mischief. “It’ll be awesome!”
You exchanged a glance with Lucy, who only chuckled. “Sure, I’m in.”
As the four of you headed out of the gym, and outside of the school to make sure no one else knew about the plan, Natsu and Gray started brainstorming ways to scare the life out of their classmates, while Wendy was out to be on guard duty. You stood next to Lucy, both of you keeping Wendy company.
“I wonder what they’ll come up with...” The blue-haired girl said.
“Hopefully it isn’t anything too extreme like turning on the sprinklers or setting the school on fire,” Lucy piped up, somewhat joking while also meaning it in a serious way.
You held back a laugh, not wanting to get a scolding from your lover in front of Wendy.
It was getting more dark outside, which cast a more eerie effect for the haunted house. Many students were eager to get in, confident they wouldn’t get scared at all. However, as Natsu and Gray brought out more props, released more smoke bombs (that were non-toxic of course), You watched from upstairs in a monitor room with Lucy; hearing students scream, while some ran off and others laughed as they continued through the maze of scares, the main attraction of the house.
“Seriously, Natsu?” Gray groaned, shaking his head as he watched Natsu from a screen— who had a dragon mask on and attempted to jump scare Erza, only to receive a whack on the head instead.
Lucy laughed, “Even during parties Erza’s ready to fight.”
“Seems like Natsu won’t be scaring anyone now,” Wendy said with a hand over her mouth to hold back a laugh, seeing him walk away defeatedly.
You leaned closer to Lucy, the chaos around you fading away. “I think he’s just trying to add to the fun.”
She turned to you, her eyes bright. “You’re right.”
Once Natsu arrived complaining about the bump on his head, you all ditched the haunted house, going back to the gym to play some games that were being hosted—one included wrestling somehow, as both Gray and Natsu ran off betting each other who was stronger. You took Lucy to grab a drink, and sneaked out again to go to the school’s balcony.
As you made your way outside, the cool night air brushed against your skin. The moon hung high in the sky, creating a silvery light glow. You turned to Lucy, your heart skipping beats as you noticed how her blonde hair shone brightly. “Thanks for convincing me to go tonight, I had a lot of fun.”
Your lover smiled genuinely, nodding. “Wouldn’t have been the same without you. I’m really glad you were here,” she replied, stepping closer to you, arms placed loosely around your neck.
You placed your hands on her waist instinctively, faces inches away from each other.
“May I?” You asked, voice low.
“Yeah..” Lucy whispered, face turning pink.
You closed your eyes and leaned in, about to kiss— when Natsu kicked the doors open—Gray in tow. “Y/N, Lucy! I beat Gray in wrestling, I’m stronger than him!” Natsu shouted, laughing in joy.
“I told you it didn’t count! I wasn’t ready” Gray yelled.
“Too bad, I still won and everyone knows I’m stronger than ya!”
“Another round!”
“Nah, we already know who’s the winner”
“Oh yeah? If you’re really the strongest then you’d accept another round right now”
“What?” Natsu questioned, thinking for a few seconds before bumping his fist on Gray’s shoulder. “Alright I’m in, let’s go! Cya Y/N and Lucy” He said before dashing back inside the building.
You sighed, both were too focused on their argument to notice they were interrupting an intimate moment.
“Sorry about..them” You mumbled, embarrassed. You’ll need to scold the two later.
Lucy giggled, “Don’t worry they’re always like this.”
You both stared into the others’ eyes for a while, before leaning in, your lips gently pressed against hers.
“I love you,” You said after pulling away.
Lucy smiled, “I love you too.”
It was the best Halloween party ever.
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doomhands-jr · 7 months ago
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The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 3
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Noah Sebastian X Reader
Noah is a delinquent with a lot of anger at the church. You're a pastor's daughter plagued by moral perfectionism, charged with overseeing the community service he's been sentenced to complete. You've never encountered true temptation before. How will you fare up against Noah, who not only isn't bound by the same rules of purity as you, but actively scoffs at them?
Rating: 18+ Minors DNI
Masterlist
Banner by @flowerynerds
Wheeeeeeee!
________
“Heavenly father,” Isaac began. “We ask that you bless this practice session. Allow us to spread your love and light through our music and give us the opportunity to reach the souls that need to hear it. Amen.”
“Amen,” the rest of you repeated.
“Alright, friends. What songs do we want to play this week?”
“I’ve been leaning towards How He Loves Us,” said Darian.
“Okay. I’ll need to refresh myself on the chords,” said Isaac. “Everyone on board?”
You nodded along with the others, but as they talked over the song list, you found yourself losing focus. Your eyes drifted over to the front of the stage, where you and Noah had sat on Saturday.
You were always so sure that if presented with temptation, you would be able to resist. It had never once entered your mind that there would be a situation in which your resolve would be tested.
But there on those steps, with Noah looking down over you, you knew you would have let your body take over and do whatever it wanted. For the first time in your life, you weren’t sure you could trust yourself with someone—and yet, you weren’t convinced it was a bad thing.
Okay, were you ready to lose your virginity to him? No. That was a big step to take, considering you’d only ever had one kiss in your life, but you couldn’t deny that you were eager to explore your sexuality more, and that had never been something you were willing to do outside of marriage.
Noah’s logic had you questioning the rules that had been instilled in you. He seemed to think that the rules, particularly those surrounding sex, were not worth following. He had such a confidence about it that you were dying to question where he got it from and what his reasoning behind it was.
Something tugged in the back of your mind, though. Isaac had cautioned you about spending time with him, and how he could lead you down a bad path. You felt yourself straying from what you had always believed, but were they right? Were you being led into a life of sin?
Or was it more complicated than that?
“Okay, everyone clear on the set list for this week?”
You nodded, even though you weren’t clear, but you’d pick it up easily enough. You could always ask Ava if you needed help.
“Hey, can I talk to you a minute?”
It was Isaac. He was closer than you remembered him being. “Sure, what’s up?”
“I was wondering if I could get your help with something?”
“Okay?” you said, waiting for him to continue.
“So I want to put together a Christmas concert. I could use your voice. And your help with setting it up if you’re down for it.”
“Halloween isn’t even over,” you said.
“These things take time to arrange. It’s better if we get a head start.” He flashed a smile at you and rocked back on his heels, visibly eager for you to agree.
“What all would I need to do?” you asked.
“Really, I just need you to sing the soprano harmonies. And to spread the word about it. Maybe hang some fliers or something. See if any of the women in your dorm want to come. I’m thinking this could be a great outreach project if we maybe add an alter call or something at the end.”
You didn’t want to. You knew you didn’t want to, but you needed something to focus on that wasn’t Noah and the way he had you questioning everything about yourself. 
“I’ll think about it,” you said.
“Yess,” he hissed, already taking it as a begrudging agreement, instead of a consideration. “Promise you won’t regret it.”
“Uh-huh.”
The rest of the session was spent practicing the songs for the upcoming service. You wished you had the ability to stay focused, but all you could think about was the softness behind Noah’s eyes when he looked at you, and how eager you were for Saturday to arrive.
______
“Noah can’t come,” Nick said, walking up the concrete pathway that led to the church ground. “He got roped into working overtime at the factory. Won’t be off until 3.”
“Oh,” you said, trying not to let your disappointment show. “Sucks for him.”
“Not really. At least he’s getting paid,” he said. “Otherwise he’d have to be here, doing work for free.”
“Right,” you agreed. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
“So what’s on the menu for today?” he asked, sounding much more chipper than last week.
“Sorting donations. Our church is holding a drive to help families in need. We’re sorting clothes by size and gender—,”
“Gender is a construct,” he cut in.
“Okay, so by size and masculine vs. feminine then.”
"And what if it's gender-neutral?" he asked.
You sighed. "Use your judgement."
“Got it,” he said and punctuated it with a nod.
“And then if we get done with that, we’ll sort toys by age, and then food by type and expiration date.”
“That sounds like a lot.”
“You shrugged. We’ll just do as much as we have time for.”
You led him down into the basement of the worship center, where all the donation boxes were stored.
“Start with that box. We’ll start sorting it based on gen—er, feminine verses masculine first. Then we’ll do children’s versus adults, and after that, go by size. Feminine clothes go there, masculine over there, you said, pointing to piles on two different tables.
“Sounds good,” he said, picking up a box and getting to work. You got back to work sifting through the box you’d been working on before he had arrived, picking up the clothes, judging which pile they belonged in and whether they were in good enough condition to rehome.
“Make sure you check for things like stains and tears. We don’t want to be sending people damaged things.”
“Got it,” he said.
Nick paused to remove his black hoodie, and you allowed yourself to sneak a glance over at him while he worked. He wore a black shirt with the sleeves cut off, exposing tattoos on his arms, though not nearly as many as Noah. He was more muscular than you realized, biceps flexing and relaxing as he folded the clothes.
“I see you staring,” he said and you looked up at him to find him smirking at you.
“I was looking at your tattoos.”
“Sure you were,” he said. “Go ahead and stare. I don’t mind.”
“I wasn’t staring,” you said, looking away from him and back down to the pile of clothes you were sorting.
“And here I was thinking I’d finally caught the Virgin Mary in an act of lust.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
He slid out from behind the table he was working at and stood next to you, picking up a shirt from the pile in front of you and checking the tag.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“Just thought you looked like you could use some help over here.”
You rolled your eyes. “Fine.”
The pair of you worked together in tense silence. You had to admit, the work did go much faster when he was helping. Nick worked hard and rhythmically, settling into a pace that easily bested yours. Every so often, his arm would brush up against yours, and you couldn’t figure out if it was on purpose.
“My god, who donated this?!” he exclaimed after a while. You looked over and he was holding a pair of bright yellow children’s pants with a brown stain across the back, his face scandalized.
You snorted loudly. Nick caught it and his face lit up with his own laughter, and the two of you devolved into a fit of giggles.
“We should probably toss that one,” you said after regaining your composure and pointed to the trash can in the corner. He agreed, balling the garment up and tossing it into the trash, easily sinking it into the basket even though it was across the room.
“Do you think the rest are contaminated?” he asked.
You shook your head. “The organizers washed all of these in big industrial washers. It’s just a stain. Still gross though.”
“Still gross,” he agreed.
“Alright, since we’re almost done with this box, I’m gonna grab the next one,” you said, but before you could even try to lift it, Nick had stepped in front of you, hoisting it easily up onto the table with no effort. Impressive, considering you’d been struggling to even lift the boxes of clothing yourself.
“Thanks,” you said.
“No problem. Hey, so you know how I always say you could use more fun.”
You paused folding the shirt in your hands and raised an eyebrow. 
“Don’t give me that look. You know it’s true.”
You maintained your cool expression.
“Well, we’re doing a Halloween gig tonight at Jolly’s. You should come.”
You considered it. If the band was playing, that meant Noah would be there, and you’d get to see what he’s like outside of community service. It sounded tempting, but—
“I already committed to handing out candy to trick-or-treaters with the worship team.”
Nick let out a sound of annoyance. “Are you always doing church stuff?”
You laughed. “Kind of.”
“Well, what time does it go until?” he asked.
“I think trick-or-treat ends at 8:30.”
“Perfect,” he said. “The party doesn’t even start until after 9:00.”
You considered for a moment, not sure if it would be a good idea.
“I can practically hear you talking yourself out of it.”
“It’s just…,” you began.
“You’re worried you’ll get pulled into a life of sin?” he finished. “Come on. It’s one party. You don’t even have to drink.”
You thought about it. It could be interesting to see the band perform. Get an idea of the kind of music Noah’s into.
“Can I bring a friend?” you asked.
He chuckled, “sure, if it’ll get you to come.”
“Okay. Where should I go?”
Nick smiled. “Where���s your dorm? I can pick you and your friend up there at 9:00 and we’ll head over together.”
“Sounds good.”
“Oh, and wear a costume.”
_______
“No way! Really?!” Ava half-shouted.
“Don’t go crazy. I’m bringing you to be my accountability partner,” you said. “Make sure I don’t make any bad decisions while I’m there.”
“What bad decisions would you even make?” she said, “You’re the most responsible out of all of us.”
“I don’t know,” you said. “I’ve never been to this kind of party before, so I don’t know what to expect.”
“We’ll be fine,” she said. “Don’t be such a worrier.”
She had a point. You doubted you were going to do anything. But then again, you had experienced your first real temptation only a week ago, and had Nick not walked in, you weren’t one hundred percent positive you would have resisted.
Only time would tell.
_________
Trick-or-treating went smoothly. You and the rest of the worship band got dressed up in your costumes and handed out candy from the steps leading up to the church. Other organizers in your congregation had set up a mini obstacle course for the children, and a table full of apple cider and glazed donuts stood beside it, with many members of the church gathered around it.
These were the kinds of events you loved helping out at. There was such a sense of community that made you feel like you were part of something greater than yourself. Seeing the joy on everyone’s faces made putting up with the more annoying tasks well worth it.
Ava dressed as a medieval princess in a flowing white and pink gown. Isaac went as a pirate. Darian and Josh wore matching “Thing 1” and “Thing 2” costumes. You were dressed as your favorite historical president, but with a twist. The kids loved your costumes, but their own costumes were just as creative.
Part of the event that the church put on involved a costume contest, where the winner would receive a gift certificate for free pizza, soda, and dessert at the local pizza restaurant. It wasn’t much, but the kids had gone all out for it.
You and the worship band were in charge of judging the costumes, and after much deliberation between the robot (your choice) and the wolverine (Isaac’s choice), the robot eventually won out.
“It had blinking LEDs and functioning buttons with sound effects!” you said, when Isaac was salty about the outcome.
“The kid had home-made retractable claws! Do you know how much engineering that takes?”
“Sorry. The results were fair.”
“Whatever. What are you guys doing after this? Want to go bowling?”
“Actually, we already have plans,” Ava said.
“Oh? Where are you going?”
“We were invited to watch a local band.”
“Oh nice. Where is it? I might want to stop by.”
“Oh, uh. I actually don’t know. Our friend is going to pick us up,” you said, growing nervous.
Isaac’s eyes narrowed. “Which friend?”
You shifted, not knowing how to answer him. 
“It’s the delinquents,” said Ava, unconcerned with the tension that had grown. “Calm down, we’ll be fine.”
Isaac looked at you as if you had told him you were going to a strip club. “That sounds like a really bad idea,” he said. “Are you sure about this? Do you want me to escort you?”
“Yes I’m sure. And no, we don’t need a chaperone. It’s just listening to a band.”
“Yeah,” said Isaac. “A secular band.”
“Isaac chill. She asked me to be her accountability partner. She’s covered. Now if you’ll excuse me, we have to get going.”
Ava grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you away. Isaac looked like he wanted to follow, but thought better of it and turned away.
“You’re welcome for that, by the way,” she said when the two of you were out of earshot.
“Thanks. I owe you,” you said. “What’s his problem?”
“He doesn’t like them. He’s been talking to me about it. He believes they’re bad news, but I think he’s just jealous, to be honest. You’re no longer paying attention to him the way you used to and he knows it.”
“What a crybaby,” you said.
“I mean, can you blame him? You spent the last several years at his beck and call, and now suddenly you dip.”
“That’s not exactly fair,” you said. “You were the same way with him.”
“Yeah, well, maybe both of us are to blame.”
“You might be right.”
You and Ava reached your dorm, where Ava stripped off the overskirt of her dress, revealing a much shorter version of her costume, complete with knee socks and heels.
“Whoa!” you exclaimed.
“I told you I wanted to experience life on the other side,” she said. “This is my chance. Don’t judge me.”
“Honestly, I’m more impressed than anything. But I don’t know. Maybe it’s a little much for your first party? Like, should you scope it out first before taking a risk like that?”
Ava shrugged. “I’m tired of the same boring things every day. I could use a little risk-taking.”
You bit back your comments, knowing that you weren’t going to change her mind. She was headstrong, which you loved about her, but it also worried you at times.
“Just don’t get too carried away, okay?” you said.
“I’m going to have at least one drink while I’m there.”
“You’re supposed to be my accountability partner!”
“I can still hold you accountable. It’s just one drink.”
You sighed and rubbed your forehead, acknowledging to yourself that it may have been a mistake to bring her.
“Please just don’t make me babysit you the whole time. I want to enjoy myself.”
“I promise. I’ll keep my wits about me. I’ll have one drink. We’ll listen to the music, maybe do a little dancing. Maybe I’ll have my first kiss, and then we’ll be home by midnight.”
You groaned. “Drinking and kissing? That’s a lot to pack into one night.”
“It’ll be fine,” she insisted. “Don’t worry about me. You just focus on enjoying yourself, okay? This is your first real party. You should be excited for you! Not worried for me.”
As if on cue, there was a knock on your door. You looked at the clock on your phone and it read 8:57.
“He’s early for once.”
You opened the door to reveal Nick’s bare chest with the image of an eagle holding a fish inked onto it. A tiny purple vest barely covered his shoulders.  “Aladdin?” you asked.
“At your service,” he said, lifting the fez he wore up in salute.
“Nice,” you commented. “Nick, this is Ava.”
“Princess Ava,” he said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. “I like your costume.”
Ava burst into a fit of giggles at the flattery. “Yours too.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” you said to Nick, already knowing what he was thinking. You saw his eyes scan up and down Ava’s legs.
“What are you supposed to be?” he asked. “A sexy founding father?”
“Baberaham Lincoln,” you clarified, fiddling with the fake beard to ensure its placement.
He scanned you up and down. “I guess I see it,” he said slowly. “But to truly pass as a babe-ified version of Lincoln, I think you need to be a little sexier.”
“I wore red lipstick,” you defended.
“You could stand to undo a few buttons on your shirt. Or tie it up to make a crop top,” Ava suggested.
“I’m good,” you said.
Nick shrugged. “Suit yourself. Come on.”
You and Ava followed him out the door and began your walk towards town. Jolly’s house was supposedly a mile or so away from campus. The wind carried a chill, but Ava and Nick seemed to not notice, too enraptured in conversation. They were obviously flirting, and you’d have to remember to warn Ava about him. And threaten Nick.
The walk was quicker than you expected, and you vaguely recognized the part of town Jolly lived in. The house was light blue with black shutters. It spanned two floors, but wasn’t in great shape. Partygoers spilled out onto the front porch and lawn, all dressed in a variety of costumes. You noticed most were homemade, and you appreciated that, but they also showed much more skin than you were used to seeing and you felt overdressed. You unbuttoned one button at the top of your blouse.
“So ladies,” Nick said, gesturing to the crowd. “This is a party. Can I get either of you something to drink?”
“I’m fine,” you said.  “I’ll take a drink,” said Ava.
Nick grinned. “Excellent. What would you like?”
“What do they have?” she asked.
“Follow me to the kitchen and I’ll show you.” Nick and Ava made their way into the crowd, while you hung back a few paces, wanting to get your bearings before immersing yourself into the sea of people. You scanned the strangers, looking for Noah, but came up empty.
So this was a party. It looked like people were having fun. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves, but it was very crowded and noisy. You wondered if alcohol was the key to enjoying this. Or perhaps knowing more people. Maybe you just didn’t know anyone so it was hard for you to keep from feeling out of place.
You walked up the steps and across the porch, weaving in and out among partygoers and noticing the various costumes. Superheroes, characters from popular movies and comic book series. A lot of people dressed as celebrities, and then more generic costumes like firefighter and nurse. Several girls walked around in black bodysuits with cat ears and whiskers painted on their faces. You wondered if they all knew each other.
Stepping into the house, you were met with a big cloud of cigarette smoke. It wafted into the air and permeated throughout the entire house. There was another smell too that you didn’t recognize, but you guessed was marijuana.
The tile floor was sticky, you noticed. Your shoes peeled away from the ground with each step and you could almost feel the film they were collecting. It was also hot and humid inside the house, with all the bodies that were crammed in.
Electric neon lights flashed all around in the living room, where several people gathered. It looked like that was where people went to dance. In the kitchen, Ava and Nick leaned up against the counter while Nick poured some red liquid from a large Hawaiian Punch container labeled “jungle juice.” He handed it to Ava and she smiled up at him. His hand went to rest around her waist and she blushed. You’d have to intervene eventually, but for now, you wanted to let Ava have her fun.
You took a swig of water out of the bottle you’d tucked into the inside pocket of your blazer, which was quickly growing too warm. You couldn’t abandon it though, or else nobody would know what you were dressed as—not that it mattered much. Everyone was focused on their own thing, and nobody was paying attention to you.
You found yourself a corner of the living room to stand in and you leaned against the walls, watching the guests as they danced. Some were dancing on each other. Some were making out, while others danced with abandon, twirling their arms above their heads and jumping up and down. It reminded you of summer camp, when you’d do the same thing. Dance with reckless abandon to the worship music—although the context of this dancing was wildly different.
You missed being a kid and getting to participate in all the different activities in the church. Now that you were an adult, you’d taken on more of an organizer and leadership role, overseeing all of these activities. You liked the work, but had much more fun when you were a kid, before all the responsibility kicked in.
A tall figure coming down the stairs caught your eye and you recognized him immediately. He hadn’t seen you yet, and you were perfectly content to watch him from afar.
Noah was dressed in all black. He had switched out his hoodie for a tank top, which displayed the full scope of his tattoos. He wore his hair tied back, but on his head sat a pair of shiny, dark black horns. He held a glass beer bottle in one hand and sipped casually from it.
As he made his way through the crowd, it soon became clear he was one of the more popular guests. Several people went out of their way to greet him by offering high-fives, fist bumps, or by tapping their drinks to his. A couple women were more affectionate—they greeted him by throwing their arms around his neck and wrapping him in a hug, and it was hard to admit your own jealousy to yourself. Noah could have female friends, and it wasn’t a betrayal of whatever small connection the two of you had established. Even still, it was uncomfortable to watch.
You could see the moment he spotted Nick, as he immediately made his way over to them. You were relieved to see he greeted him with more enthusiasm than anyone else. Nick introduced Ava, who shook Noah’s hand. You could see on her face that while she was just as taken aback by the abundance of tattoos as you were originally, she was visibly interested in learning who this newcomer was.
Ava said something else to Noah, who smiled and laughed, and then Nick chimed in, but you couldn’t hear any specifics. In response, Noah perked up and turned to scan the room. Nick leaned toward his friend to mention something else, pointing in your direction, and when Noah finally spotted you, he nodded and started in your direction.
That was your cue to come out of your little secluded corner. Locking eyes with him, you noticed he wore a pair of contacts that completely blacked out his eyes and made him look like a demon, which you supposed was the intent. Despite that, you were warmed by his smile.
When he reached you, he greeted you with a gentle hand on your shoulder and you found yourself wishing you had worn something sleeveless so you could feel the full effect of his touch.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” Noah asked, curious but pleased. “And what are you supposed to be?”
“I’m Baberaham Lincoln!” you said. “I thought more people would get that.”
Noah paused, scanned you up and down, and then doubled over in laughter.
“Thank you,” he said, and surprised you by wrapping you up in a warm hug and pressing you into his chest. “You made my night.”
Noah was very sweaty, and you could smell the slight sourness of body odor on him beneath the patchouli scent, but that didn’t detract from how much you enjoyed the embrace.  
“Are you dressed as a demon?” you asked when he finally pulled away.
“Something like that. I didn’t put much thought into it. Just wanted to look scary.”
“Well, it did the trick,” you said. “Your eyes are kind of freaking me out.”
He smiled down at you in response and despite the unsettling costume, you felt your affection for him grow.
“You don’t mind if I drink, do you?” he asked.
“I’m not here to stop you from having any fun. I’m on your turf now.” You had to lean towards him to be heard over the sound of the music and the crowd.
“I’m really surprised you came,” he confessed. “It doesn’t seem like your normal scene, but I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” you said. Shrouded in his presence, you began to understand the appeal of these parties.
“Fair warning though,” he said, leaning down next to your face so you could hear him. “You probably aren’t going to like our music. It’s not exactly your style.” You were met with the slight pressure of his palm on your lower back, and you wondered if the alcohol had lowered his inhibitions.
“Yeah, I know,” you said, reaching into your pockets and pulling out two foam pieces. “I brought earplugs just in case.”
He grinned, dark contacts not taking away from his genuine delight. “That’s my girl.” Something erupted in your stomach at the nickname. “Hey, come here. I want to introduce you to the band.” He led you by the hand through the party and back out onto the front porch.
“This is Ruffilo and Jolly,” he said, introducing you to two other heavily-tattooed and long-haired men. “You already met Folio, our drummer. Ruffilo plays bass and Jolly pays guitar. His real name is Joakim, but we all call him Jolly.”
“Nice to meet you,” you said, extending your hand to each of them to shake.
“This is that girl I was talking about who oversees the community service.”
“Virgin Mary!” Jolly exclaimed in recognition.
Your face fell and you looked up at Noah sourly.
“Shit,” he said. “That probably wasn’t cool, was it?” he asked.
“No, not really,” you said, stepping away from him.
“Sorry, okay guys. Just Mary. Not Virgin Mary.”
“Man, come on,” you whined, and Noah giggled to himself at his own joke. You realized you were stuck with the nickname, probably for as long as you and Noah would know each other.
“So people keep requesting we play Dethrone,” said Jolly. “I think we should.”
Noah’s eyes glanced over at you and his demeanor turned to hesitant. “No Dethrone,” he said. “I’m not feeling it tonight.”
“Okay, but you don’t get to make decisions for the whole band,” reasoned Ruffilo.
“I don’t know if my voice is up to it,” Noah said. “It’s a hard one to perform.”
Ruffilo sighed. “They’re not going to be happy about it.”
“Maybe next time,” said Noah. “When I remember to bring the Throat Coat.”
Jolly fixed Noah with a look of displeasure, but sighed and relented. “Fine, but don’t neglect your vocal exercises in the future. It’s our biggest crowd-pleaser.”
“Got it,” said Noah. “I won’t.”
Ruffilo pulled out what looked like a hand-wrapped cigarette which you recognized as a joint and lit it up. He took a deep inhale before passing it to Noah, who accepted and sucked back a long drag.
“You don’t mind if I do this, do you?” he intoned, keeping the air trapped in his lungs as he spoke before exhaling a few moments later.
“Not at all,” you said, though something was telling you it was time to take some space.
“Hey, I’m gonna go find Ava,” you said. “You guys have fun.”
“You good?” asked Noah, looking at you with sincerity.
You nodded. “Promise. I just want to check on her.”
“Okay,” he said, taking another drag. “We go on in a few minutes, but I’ll meet up with you after our set. Wait for me?”
“Of course,” you said, softening despite your discomfort.
You didn’t want to leave his side, but if you stayed, you knew you’d be uncomfortable with the situation and you’d already exposed yourself to enough unfamiliarity that night. 
You made your way back into the kitchen, noting that Nick and Ava had moved. You scanned around the house and finally spotted them on the dance floor. He had his arm wrapped around her waist and they were pressed up close to each other. He whispered something into her ear and she threw her head back in laughter.
It was innocent enough, but you’d step in if you felt like you had to.
Wandering through the house, you searched for a quiet spot and a breath of fresh air. You spotted a back door down a short hallway and made a beeline for it, opening to find it a small back yard with a firepit and only a few people standing around it.
You made your way through the yard, past the fire pit and to the back edge where an old shed sat. You leaned against it, closing your eyes and breathing deep. The cool night air filled your lungs, along with the scent of burning wood from the fire.
You were reminded of nights like these spent at church camp during Vespers. Gathering around the campfire and signing along with whoever played the acoustic guitar. Some of the most transformative times of your life happened around those fires. You felt so connected to God. The Holy Spirit permeated through the air, vibrating with intensity and everyone there could feel it. In that moment, you knew that everyone around that fire, no matter where they came from, felt the exact same way you did.
Now, you felt disconnected from your surroundings in an all-consuming way. It was as if everyone else was riding an energetic frequency you couldn’t seem to find and didn’t know if you wanted to. Even Ava, your best friend, assimilated seamlessly into the party atmosphere.
You breathed deeply in and out through your nose and ran your fingertips along the paint that was flaking off the siding of the shed, which served to ground you in the way you needed. You knew you’d have to rejoin the party soon, but you were grateful for this private moment of solace.
As if on cue, the sound of guitars blasted through the back door, demanding your presence. You took out the ear plugs and stuffed them into your ears, the foam muffling the sound and softening the world around you, which had grown abrasive in the last hour or so. _____
The basement floor was damp and even stickier than the kitchen. It was also much more crowded than the upper floor had been now that the entire party was gathered into a single space.
The crowd looked on eagerly as the band set up and did their sound checks. The excitement was tangible and you had no idea Noah’s band had such a following.
“Check. Check,” Noah shouted into the microphone. “I need more in my monitor.” You looked to the back of the room where a small table was set up and someone was running sound.
The sound check took several minutes, but once all the levels were steady, Noah opened his mouth and let out one of the loudest and most demonic sounds you’d ever heard come from a person. You jumped out of your skin, feeling your arm hair stand on end.
Four clicks from Nick’s drumsticks and the entire band joined in, producing a volume even your ear plugs couldn’t compete with.
“Alright you motherfuckers,” Noah shouted. “We’re Bad Omens and we’ve come to steal your souls on this beautiful Hallow-fucking-ween.”
The crowd cheered. Many began jumping up and down in time with the music. The lights flashed from bright green to a deep red, and Noah began to sing.
“Dead on the inside!” 
You never knew live music could be this loud or a crowd this energetic. You’d gone to a few Christian rock concerts, but they were nothing compared to what was happening in front of you.
As the band played through the first few verses of the opening song, the energy of the crowd steadily grew. By the time they hit the crescendo, it looked like a fight had broken out in the audience.
You were immediately put on guard, not sure why nobody else was reacting to it, including the band, when you overserved a few minutes longer and realized that the audience seemed to be…enjoying themselves. It wasn’t a fist fight, you noted. It looked like a bunch of people pushing each other around and flailing their bodies into each other.
Moshing. They were moshing. You remember hearing about it from Isaac, who was into more of the heavier music like The Devil Wears Prada. He said they headlined a Christian music festival he went to over the summer and mentioned that he’d been in a mosh pit, describing what it had been like in vivid detail.
Looking at the audience now, you couldn’t ever imagine someone like Isaac holding their own in a crowd like this.
The next several songs went on like that. The energy of the crowd never died down, and Noah alternated between screaming and singing. You had no idea how his throat could even handle making those noises without bleeding halfway through the first song. You’d have to ask him about that later.
All-in-all, he was right. It definitely wasn’t your preferred style of music, but you could appreciate the passion behind it. Noah’s singing voice was actually beautiful. He hit high notes you’d never heard a man hit before, and he did it with ease. You wished he would stick to that type of singing, but you supposed there had to be an appeal to the screaming, or else the crowd wouldn’t be so lively.
Despite it not being your style, you had fun watching the band perform. Noah’s passion was obvious. He threw his entire body into his performance, letting the music reverberate from deep inside him, and you were content to watch him in his natural habitat.
The juxtaposition was wild. He was normally so closed off and reserved. Here, he was uninhibited. It was like he belonged on a stage and in front of a microphone, and you found yourself feeling happy that he found this outlet for himself.
When the band played their final note, Noah thanked the crowd for coming out and told them all where they could purchase merch and download music.
“Dethrone!” someone shouted from the audience.
“Not tonight, guys. That one’s hard on my throat,” he said.
“Dethrone!” more people shouted. The crowd began to chant over and over again.
“I mean, it’s Halloween. We kind of have to play it,” the man you’d met earlier—Ruffilo—said into the mic.
“Dethrone! Dethrone! Dethrone!” the crowd chanted, and you wondered what kind of song it must be to cause the crowd to react so strongly.
Noah hesitated, looking very torn. He scanned the crowd for a few moments before locking eyes with you and his face held a look of what you could only describe as apology. He held eye contact with you for several minutes, and then he sighed and turned back to the crowd.
“Alright all you fucking cowards, this one’s called Dethrone, and I want to see you tear this fucking place to the ground.”
The guitar came in with a fast and heavy riff for a few bars before the bass and drum joined them. The lights flashed on and off and Noah let out a deep, guttural growl that lasted several bars.
The crowd went absolutely feral. The entire audience began thrashing around and pushing up against one another. Even at the back of the room, you got shoved left and right.
Throughout the noise of the crowd and the screaming you could only make out bits and pieces of the lyrics.
“…when I was killed and born again.” 
“If he’s home I’ve got a message from below. Fuck you.” 
“…Take me to the pearly gates, so I can look you in the eye when I spit in your face.” 
The moment you realized what the song was about, you reached your breaking point. You had to get out of there. You did your best to navigate your way over to the stairs through the sea of thrashing people. You were almost to the steps when someone slammed an elbow hard into the side of your face.
“Ow!” you shouted, but nobody paid attention. You reached the railing and pulled yourself up from the crowd, rushing up the stairs as fast as you could and outside the back door of the house.
You could still hear the song from the outside, but it was muffled enough for you to take a few deep breaths. Your face stung where it had been hit, and you had to shake your hands vigorously to steady yourself.
It was too much. It was all too much. Not just the party and the drinking and the drug use, but the anger of it all. The violence. The deliberate threats made towards the God you’ve known and loved your entire life. The hatred towards Him. And it felt personal. It felt like an attack on everything you’ve built your life around.
You let out a choked sound, no longer able to hold the tears back. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying hard not to make noises in case anyone was around, and stumbled your way to the back of the shed, where hopefully nobody could witness your state.
Inside, you heard the song come to an end and the crowd give one final cheer for the band.
You knew the crowd would be dispersing soon and there was a chance someone would stumble upon you. The yard was completely fenced in and in order to get out, you’d have to go through the house.
You sank to your knees, clutching at the frigid blades of grass, which helped steady you a little. Tears still pouring down, you tried to steady your breathing as best as you can, when you heard your name being called.
It was Noah. You didn’t want to answer him. Didn’t want him to see you like this. In your head, you prayed a silent prayer he would go back into the house and let you compose yourself in peace.
God, however, had other plans.
“Shit,” Noah said as he turned the corner of the shed and found you. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.” He knelt down in front of you, trying to get a look at your face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” you choked out.
“Shit,” he said again, noticing your tears. “Come on, let me walk you home.”
You shook your head. “I don’t want to go back through there.” You hid your face, feeling ashamed at your own reaction.
“Come on, let’s talk,” he said, grabbing your hand and trying to pull you to your feet.
“I said I’m fine,” you protested. This time it came out sharper. You didn’t want to take your feelings out on him, but you found it impossible to control your tone in the moment.
“Let’s at least get you into a quiet room. Come on, my studio is in this shed. Nobody will bother you. Promise.”
At the promise of a quiet space with nobody to see you, you relented and allowed him to lead you around the side of the shed. He unclipped a set of keys from a carabiner on his belt loop and used one of them to unlock the door, ushering you inside. He relocked it behind him and plugged in a set of string lights that cast the room in a warm, dim glow.
“Have a seat,” he said and gestured to the couch that lined the wall on one side. You obeyed, sitting on the couch and doubling over, arms crossed over your legs and head buried in them. You continued to work to steady yourself.
Noah set a box of tissues beside you, and then rolled his desk chair in front of where you were sitting. He sat facing you, long legs on either side of your knees. Then he placed his hands firmly on your shoulders.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
You nodded into your arms. 
“Are you okay?” he asked.
You nodded again.
“What happened?” he asked, voice softer now.
“I had a panic attack.” Your voice came out muffled.
“Because of the song?” he said.
You nodded again.
“Shit,” he said for the third time.
“And I got elbowed in the face.”
“Shit.” A fourth. “Can I see?”
You shook your head no.
“Please? I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
Reluctantly, you lifted your head to show him.
He let out a compressed breath. “Oof. Yeah, it looks like you’ve got yourself a bit of a shiner,” he said, cupping your face gently.
You refused to meet his eyes, instead opting for a tissue so you could blow your nose. An embarrassing amount of mucus shot into the tissue. Then you pulled a second one to wipe off any makeup that may have smeared.
“Does it hurt?”
You sniffled and nodded. “Yeah.”
“Shit.”
“Is that your favorite word or something?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have warned you about the crowd. I’m so used to that stuff now. I forget what it’s like for someone who’s never been to a show like that before.”
“It’s fine,” you said.
“It’s not though. I’d been drinking. I didn’t have my wits about me, and because of that you got hurt.”
You sighed. “It wasn’t the elbow,” you said, finally meeting his eyes. His brows furrowed with concern and he let his hands slide down to rest on your knees, thumbs rubbing gentle circles over them. You could only handle eye contact for a second before you had to look away again. “Is that how you really feel?”
Noah puffed out a breath. “I didn’t want you to have to see that.”
“I knew you had a lot of anger. But not that much.”
He dropped his head, staring at where his hands rested on your knees. “It must have been pretty jarring.”
“Yeah,” you admitted. “I think it was just a lot for me. I was out of my comfort zone all night, and then that happened. I’ve never seen so many people with such…disdain for God.”
Noah dug his thumbnail into your thigh softly and bit his lip.
“I know.”
“Why though? Why all the anger? Why the hate? And why do you hang out with those people?”
“I’m one of them,” he said. “I know it might be hard to digest, especially since you’ve been protected from it for so long, but there are a lot of people out there who feel that way. It doesn’t necessarily make them bad people.”
“But that wasn’t just anger. That was hate.” 
“Yeah,” he said, cupping the backs of your thighs. He still wasn’t explaining anything and you were growing frustrated.
“What am I not getting?” you finally asked.
Noah hesitated, fingers drawing patterns over your pants.
“Not everyone has the best upbringing,” he explained, voice tender. “There are people born into shitty situations and they never receive the help or support they need. Life doesn’t provide opportunities to them the way it does for some others, and after a while, the injustice of it all gets to be too much.”
He gave you an opportunity to respond, but you stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.
“My parents were addicts. I think I already mentioned it. And I was born in a town where half the people don’t make it to 18 without an addiction of some sort. Ruffilo and I were lucky to escape, but I’ve seen friends and families torn apart by drugs and crime. I’ve seen pregnant 14-year-old girls turn to prostitution to afford their drug habits. Do you know how hard that is to watch?”
You shook your head.
“If God exists, how can I not be angry with him for allowing shit like that to happen?”
You were at a loss for words, humbled even in your hurt.
“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, squeezing your thighs with his hands. “I don’t judge you for how you feel about God. But I do need you to accept that this part of me exists. And it’s not going anywhere. At least, not for a while.”
A couple more tears dripped from your lashes and landed on Noah’s hands. He didn’t flinch away. Instead, he brought a thumb up to your cheekbones and wiped off the remaining wetness that clung to your lashes.
“Look. I don’t know if I believe in God. But if he does exist, and he’s as loving as you say he is, I have to believe he’ll forgive me for how I act in my anger. I think he’ll understand why that anger is necessary for me to feel, and I don’t think he’d punish me for it. If anything, I think he’d allow me to move through it for as long as I need. Or want me to, even, so that I can process it and eventually move on.”
As Noah spoke, something washed over you like a wave. A tension that had been growing inside of you for as long as you could remember began to release, and with it came a brand new understanding.
“Noah,” you whispered. “Have you ever thought about being a pastor?”
Noah’s face broke into a smile and he huffed out a breath of air that fanned out over your face. He smelled like stale beer and smoke, but there was another layer underneath that smelled vaguely sweet.
“That is the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“No, I’m serious,” you said with a sniffle, and wiped away another tear. “You know more about God than any church leader I’ve met.”
“I think sometimes it’s hard to see the bigger picture when you’re too close,” he whispered, face now much closer to yours. “I have the benefit of having stepped away.”
You were silent for a moment, digesting the conversation. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore, but you weren’t ready to go back and rejoin the party.
“Can I show you something I’ve been working on?” asked Noah.
“Sure,” you said.
He kicked his feet into the floor and pushed back from where you were sitting, rolling across the floor and over to his desk. He fiddled with a few wires and switches before opening his laptop and pulling up a program.
“I’ve had this melody in my head for a while,” he said, messing with some of the controls before hitting play. “I don’t have any words yet, but I wanted to show you.”
A soft melody began playing through the speakers. Somber. Completely different from any of the songs you’d heard during their set. 
“How long have you been working on this?” you asked as the music played.
“A couple of weeks,” he said, not offering much more explanation.
He wouldn’t meet your eye. Rather, he fidgeted with an auxiliary cable, twisting it around in his hands while simultaneously bouncing his legs up and down softly in time with the drums on the track.
The slow melody held out through the song, but the music grew in intensity, settling into a low-fi R&B vibe.
Seemingly growing restless, Noah spun back around in his chair to face you. He muttered something but you were unable to decipher it over the music.
“What?” you asked.
“I’ve been experimenting with different styles,” he said, a little louder. “Hoping to expand my skills.”
“I like this,” you said. “Definitely more to my tastes.”
He smiled out of the corner of his mouth. “Metal isn’t for everyone.”
“I see the appeal of it,” you said. “I’m sure it resonates with a lot of people, even if I’m not one of them. Your band has a lot of…uh…passionate fans.”
The smile reached both sides of his mouth and he inched closer to you.
“What made you decide to come tonight?” he asked, and you knew it was important for you to be honest in that moment.
“I wanted to see you.”
Like a magnet to metal, Noah gravitated toward you again. There were no false pretenses for why. He wanted to be near you.
Resuming his position from earlier, he sat across from you, legs stretched out on either side of yours. He leaned back in his fancy office chair, and you mirrored him, sinking deeper into the couch.
You watched him watching you, scanning his features for any signals as to what was going on inside his head at that moment. The music played out through the speakers and neither of you made any efforts to fill space or silence. When the song reached its conclusion, it stopped automatically, and it was a while before anyone spoke.
“Does it have a name?” you asked, breaking the silence.
“Not yet,” he said.
“It’s good. I don’t have much music knowledge to say exactly what it is that I like about it, but I can tell I like it. I’d be interested in seeing how it progresses.”
“Good,” he said, arms folded over his torso. He swiveled slightly from left to right, knees knocking into yours as he did.
You looked from your legs back up to his face and he met your gaze. Normally, you’d be the first one to break a silence like this, finding discomfort in the tension, but that night, you waited, wanting to see what Noah would do.
It took a long time for him to crack, but when he finally did, it was to ask you a question.
“Did you do what we talked about?”
You raised an eyebrow, challenging him to be more direct with his question.
“Masturbate?” The word held a slight choked sound, as if there’d been an obstacle in his throat trying to get it out.
You nodded.
“How was it?”
“It…was.”
And that was the truth. You’d made an attempt, but experienced a few difficulties. While you went into it with the intention of showing love to yourself without shame, getting rid of that shame was easier said than done.
For one, you couldn’t imagine yourself agreeing to have sex without feeling guilty, which forced you to jump through several mental hoops involving being restrained and forced in order to feel like you had any sort of plausible deniability you could use should God choose that moment to judge you.
However, in doing that, you felt extremely guilty for engaging in that fantasy, because any real victim of sexual assault would not be thinking about it that way, and should you really be romanticizing that kind of thing? You ended up heavily judging yourself before God even had a chance to judge you.
“I ran into some…difficulties.”
“Mentally or physically?” he asked, left thigh pressed up against your right.
“I think mental.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “Do you want to talk about it?”
You sighed. “Yeah, kind of. But don’t judge me, okay?”
“If you pictured Isaac, I’m going to have to judge you.”
You shook your head. “I didn’t picture Isaac.”
“Good. Who did you picture?”
“Nobody,” you lied. “Just some nameless, faceless person.”
Up until that point, the conversation had flowed quickly like a game of table tennis, but the lie threw off the rhythm. Noah wasn’t satisfied. He allowed you to get away with it and didn’t press you on it, but now it was his turn for something.
He leaned forward, hands resuming their place on your knees, and looked at you as if he dared you to protest.
You didn’t.
“What difficulties did you have?”
You hesitated. He dug his thumbnail into your thigh.
“I had to imagine myself being forced.”
“Forced?” His hands stilled.
“Like tied up.”
His eyebrow quirked upward. His gaze dropped to where your hands rested in your lap. Sliding his hands up your legs, he encircled your wrists in his long fingers and turned them so they faced upwards, palms open to the sky as if in praise. He kept a tight hold while his eyes flicked briefly back up to meet yours.
Noah was playing a game of chicken. Seeing how far he could push you until you cracked.
“It’s a common fantasy,” he said, voice low and breathy. “Makes sense.”
“You don’t think it’s messed up?”
Noah rubbed his thumbs along the inside of your wrists, stopping every once in a while to apply pressure to different points. He stared at them while he spoke.
“I try not to judge myself for my fantasies. As long as there’s consent, there’s nothing to be ashamed about.”
“You don’t think that it’s disrespectful to people who have been forced in real life?”
He sucked on the inside of his cheek and released it with a clicking sound before taking a deep breath. “Many survivors actually find healing through engaging in that kink.” 
“It’s hard to imagine myself consenting without the guilt creeping in.”
Noah nodded. “Understandable. You’ll give it when you’re ready.”
You closed your eyes and indulged in the pressure he put on your wrists. Your skin ignited under his touch, the same way it had when his fingers had brushed the back of your neck all those weeks ago. He trailed his fingers along your palms and your hands closed reflexively around them.
“Is that something you think you’d be into in real life?” he asked. You could hear the shuffling of movement, but didn’t open your eyes. Your fingers continued to dance together with his.
“Hard to say,” you said. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”
“What’s this?” he asked, finding the silver ring on your left ring finger.
“Promise ring,” you answered.
“Like an engagement ring?” he asked.
“A symbol of a promise to God to stay pure until marriage.” His hands stilled. “We all got one in school.”
Noah pinched the ring between his two fingers.
“Is that something you’re still committed to?”
“I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”
You opened your eyes to look at Noah, who had vacated his chair and was now kneeling on the floor in front of you.
Holding eye contact, he began to slide the ring up your finger.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“Just let me try something.” He removed the ring, sticking it in his back pocket for safe keeping. “How does that feel?”
“Light.”
The ring was soldi metal. It weighed heavy on your hand and the absence of it wasn’t unwelcome. This was the first time you’d taken it off since first receiving it. It was both taboo and invigorating.
“When did you make that promise?”
“When I was thirteen.”
“Before you even knew what sexuality was?”
You nodded.
“How cruel,” he said, dropping his hands back to your knees and prying them open so he could wedge his body between them. “Binding yourself to a promise you made before you even knew what you were promising.”
“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” you said, trying not to blush. Noah’s body between your legs was a brand new sensation that left you feeling like your entire lower half was engulfed flames.
His greedy hands migrated to the backs of your knees and he tugged you forward on the couch so your faces were mere inches apart. His breath ghosted across your neck.
Your composure began to crack, breath speeding up, and you hoped he couldn’t tell. Saliva pooled on your tongue. You found yourself unable to look anywhere but his bottom lip, wondering how it would taste. How it would feel between your teeth.
Noah had grown bolder with every move you let him get away with. Any moment, he’d move in for the kill.
“You don’t owe your body to anyone,” he said. “Not even to God.”
“God gave me this body,” you countered.
“Yeah. He did. It’s yours to take care of. Bodies have needs.”
“And you think you’re the one to meet those needs, Noah?”
His fingers clutched hungrily at your thighs. “I could be.”
His tongue poked out to wet his lips. He’d been building towards this conclusion the whole evening, and now it was time for him to make his move. Noah was going to kiss you.
Two things happened simultaneously. Noah tugged you closer, and in his movement, the shiny black horns on the top of his head caught the light and drew your eye to them.
Your gut clenched.
Not yet. 
“I should—,” you began a second too late. Noah’s mouth collided with your jaw, and as soon as it registered in his mind, he jumped back as if he’d been burned. “I should, um,” you cleared your throat, “go check on Ava. She’s never drank before. Wouldn’t want her doing anything she’d regret.”
He sat back on his heels, hand coming up to wipe at something on the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he said. “Of course.” His dejection was evident in his voice and the way he wouldn’t meet your eyes.
“See you Saturday?” you asked, standing up.
“Sure,” he said, blinking up at the ceiling. The defeated slump of his shoulders was what fully broke you. With one last look of apology, you unlocked the door and slipped out. Halfway across the yard, you heard a banging sound from the shed, as if something had been kicked.
You rushed inside to find Ava.
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