#Halloween fic special | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seungfl0wer · 2 months ago

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*𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓, 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒆*

Pairing: Chan x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut (With some actual plot now bout that lol)

Warnings: Dog Hybrid!Chan, Mentions of impregnating and periods, Creampie, Unprotected sex (P in V), Breeding Kink, Spanking, Finger sucking, Knotting, Slight choking, Hair Pulling. I think that’s it?

A/N: I didn’t get a chance to proofread this yet so I’m sorry for any mistakes. Will do it at some point.

Find the Halloween Master List Here

-🎃

Waking up this morning was hard, not because you didn’t sleep well more so cause you had someone latched onto you. Your dog hybrid boyfriend had a death grip on you. His arms around you holding onto you tightly, his leg curled around yours. He’s been like this lately, he’s always been clingy but this past few days it’s intensified. He just clings to you like you are gonna disappear.

Trying to peal yourself away from him he lets out a barely audible growl, his arms pulling you tighter to him. “Channie, gotta pee” you said trying to squirm your way away from him. He left out a grumble before releasing his grip. You sprung up not wanting to be pulled back in, you made your way to the bathroom. Rubbing your eyes a bit waking yourself up. After using the bathroom you made your way to the kitchen making some breakfast like always. Chan made his way in the smell of food waking him up fully. He sauntered over to you wrapping his arms around your waist, peppering kisses to the side of your neck.

“Good morning my love” he said against your ear, voice a bit deeper from just waking up. “Morning handsome” you hummed back. He nestled his face into the side of your neck humming contently. As you finished up putting everything down on the table. The smell of eggs and bacon made your tummy grumble. Chan took his seat across from you his stomach grumbling just as much. As you both ate you reminded Chan about having to go to meet your friend today. He nodded “aren’t we meeting at the park?” He asked all happy. Although you couldn’t see his tail at the moment you could hear it thumping behind him.

“Yep, meeting them at the park. Gotta give them the birthday present I gots them” you said picking up your plate to rinse it off. “You still wanna come with?” You asked as you turned around. Chan was getting up to wash off his plate as well rolling his eyes at you “when don’t I like going with you” he said before kissing your cheek. You both just giggled before kissing him lovingly. “Yes, how dare I ask my apologies” you tease.

“I’m gonna go get dressed and we can head out hmm” you say making your way back to the bedroom. He trailed behind you watching as your ass swayed back and forth. “Love, can we have a little” he said pulling you to him “fun before we go” he continued kissing your neck. “Mm Channie after” you said softly. He groaned pulling away with a pout “why after?”

“Because Mr, I know how you are and we’ll be here for a while” you teased “I promise, when we get back ok?” You said kissing his cheek. “Fine” he said in a huff. As you both got dressed and made your way to the car Chans nose started to go like crazy. “You alright over there?” You ask looking over at him, his face a bit red now still sniffing the air. He nodded “uh yeah just- hot” he said putting down the window. His mind was running a mile a minute how could he have missed it? Your period was coming which but more importantly you were ovulating.

That’s why he’s been so clingy lately, he doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it before. Maybe because he was so worried about his own heat coming. This was the first that your ovulation and his heat would fall so close together. He shook his head to himself ‘there’s no way I should have missed this, how could I miss this? How could I not fucking smell it?’ He yelled at himself internally. The smell started to circulate in the car the A/C not helping. You must have just started because the scent was still a bit faint but being in the closed car intensified it. He groaned a bit thinking how you’d be outside.. around other hybrids.. ‘great just fucking great’ he said to himself.

As you pulled up you saw your friend standing there waiting for you. He waved with a smile walking over to your car. While you were distracted by her Chan moved in his seat trying to situate himself. His cock already rock solid pressed against his pants. He quickly got out trying his best to fix himself before anyone could notice. The warm air masking your scent for the most part thankfully. He smiled at your friend “Channie if you wanna go for a walk you can, we aren’t gonna be long. Chae has some stuff to do or should I say someone to do” you teased her making her swat at you.

He nodded walking away a bit but making sure to keep in eye contact with you. He was afraid someone was going to come back and snatch you away. As your friend and you chatted for a few you saw a faint gleam of another hybrid barreling towards you. Those big ears and blonde coat, before you could even think to brace yourself he basically tackled you. “Y/n! What are you doing here!” He said nuzzling himself between your neck. “Ah Seungmin, Come on” you whined as the man squeezed you tightly. “Sorry” he said with a chuckle “it’s just been awhile” he said rubbing the back of his head.

As he went to let go of you the familiar scent caught his attention. His eyes went a bit dark before pulling away “so uhm, is Chan not here with you?” He asked tilting his head. “Uh yeah he just went to the bathroom” you said pointing to the public bathroom. He nodded his head before pulling you into another tight hug. He nestled his head into your neck once again before licking it softly. The feeling made you shiver “Minnie, isn’t Jeongin here with you?” You asked looking around “mhm he was getting us a hotdog” he replied.

His hand laid in your waist, the other coming down dangerously close to your ass. “Seungmin!” You heard a voice yell making him drop his hands quickly. Jeongin was jogging towards you with an annoyed look on his face. “Sorry y/n this mutt just ran off” he said making seungmin stand by him. “You know not to do that, you’re gonna get Chan all riled up” he said playfully pushing him. Chae laughed “looks like I’m not the only one getting some later” she laughed smacking you lightly.

You rolled your eyes smacking her back “speaking of I gotta go, tell Chan I said bye” she said with a smile as she walked off. When Chan had come out of the bathroom he saw who was standing by you. He let out a growl making his way towards you eyes locked on the other hybrid. “Channie there you are!” You said with a smile. As soon as he got to you all he could smell was seungmin. It was all over you, the little fucker always did this. He knew it made him mad, but he knew it’d piss him off even more knowing you were ovulating. So he made sure to do it extra like the little ass he is.

He looked down at you trying to fake a smile “love can we go home now?” He said through gritted teeth. “Of course” you said smiling back. “I’ll talk to you later jeongin! Bye seungmin” you smiled taking Chan hand into yours oblivious, to anything going on. Chan looked back shooting daggers at Seungmin who smirked content with what he had done. If it wasn’t for you he would have probably went after him.

Chan opened the door for you thanking him as you sat down you started up the car. “Channie you hungry at all?” You said looking behind you to back up. He shook his head “no, just wanna get home” he said. His voice sounded a bit irritated but he always got a bit upset when other men were around you. Especially other hybrids. Especially seungmin. So you didn’t press too much into it. Chan sat there pretty silent the whole way home, gritting his teeth as the air in the car just smelled like that mutt.

As you pulled up Chan opened the door for you wrapping his arm around your waist as you both walked towards the door. “You know how much I hate him” he says as you both get into the door. “Who seungmin?” You asked as you put your keys down. He nods “yeah the little fucker puts his scent all over you cause he know it’ll piss me off” he say walking behind you. “Channie I don’t think-“ you start to say before Chan pulls you into him. “He does. I know he does. Especially right now when you’re- you’re ovulating” he said as he pushed his head into the crook of your neck.

He had your body pinned against his as he made his way towards the couch. He leaned you against it ass against him as he started to suck at your neck. His hands coming around your holding your hips as he started to rut against you. “Chan-nie” you said breathily. “You know how hard it was for me not to just take you there? Fuck y/n-“ he said sinking his teeth slightly into your neck. A hand coming to pull your pants down along with your panties. “You promised remember” he said in a teasing tone as his hand came up to toy with your clit.

“You’re wet already?” It sounding like a question. “You fucking wet from him?” He growled his other hand digging into your hip. You shook your head “n-no for you.. wanted you” you stuttered out. “You sure you weren’t getting all hot and bothered by that mutt?” He growled taking his hand back to come down hard on your ass. You let out a small yelp at the feeling “n-never channie only you- promise” you say trying to look back at him.

“Gonna make sure the only person you can think about is me” he said his voice deeper now. The look in his eyes was almost feral almost like- like his heat had started. “Baby are you- did you start your heat?” You asked. “It wasn’t supposed to start for another few days but- mmm with you ovulating you’re just calling to be bred.” He said as he rid himself of his pants. “That asshole didn’t help either. Gotta claim you again. Gotta show everyone you’re mine. Maybe if I fill you with a liter then they’ll know.” His words came out in such a warm tone.

You looked back to see Chan spitting on his cock, his eyes hungry for you. He pumped his cock a few times getting it nice and wet with his saliva. He lined himself up to your entrance kissing your shoulders to your neck. “You’re all mine.” He said before sinking his entire length into you. You moaned out feeling him so deep into you. The look in his eyes was so animalistic, he let out a low growl before he started to bully your cunt. His thrusts were hard and deep, hitting your cervix already.

He continued this merciless pace as he took his hands through your hair pulling it back. He let hard smack to your ass “tell me who you belong to.” He said. You moaned out at the sensation “you! You Chan! I’m all yours!” He thrusted faster into you his hand coming down to smack your ass again. “Who’s the only one that can pump this pussy this good hmm? You think that mutt could do better!” He growled anther smack coming down as he pulled your head back more. “No! Only you only you channie! No one else!”

Chan leaned down sinking his teeth deep into your neck as he pounded into you. His hand leaving your hair to come up to grip your face. Moving your head to the side as he lapped at your neck. He moved his fingers to your lips and you gladly started to suck on them. “Fuck y/n, gonna fill you so full. Gonna pump you full and make you have my pups” he moaned. He was getting lost in the pleasure but so were you. You could feel his knot ready to bust against your entrance wanting to be buried into you. He let his free hand come down to play with your clit making you moan around his fingers.

“Gonna take all my cum baby? Gonna let me fill you knot you so good hmm?” You knew his mind was gone when he started to babble on but you loved it. He knew you did to especially the way you clenched around him. “Fuck baby- ah- shit I’m close- gonna take it all yeah?” You nod “fuck please channie! I’m close too fuck please!” You begged the pleasure becoming too much. His hand left your face gripping at your throat now as he fucked into you sloppily.

He squeezed a bit as he felt you clench tight around him “cumming!” You choked out. Chans hand left your neck both hands now gripping hard at your hips as he gave you a few more thrust before burying his knot deep inside you cum painting your walls filling you to the brim. The feeling was enough to push you over the edge again. Cumming hard around him as a second strong orgasm hit. You could feel how hard Chan was still as his cum spilled into you. His body still slowly thrusting into you.

You both stayed like that for a bit. The cycle repeating itself a few times. Fucking, cumming, a few moments of rest back to fucking. It didnt stop till he was sure you were full. So full there was no way you wouldn’t get pregnant. He picked you up bringing you to the couch holding onto you tightly as you both panted loudly. “Was into rough?” He breathed out. You shook your head nestling your body into him. “I love you” you said softly kissing his cheek. “I love you too, so fucking much. Let’s take a shower?” He asked knowing you’d want one.

You nodded “can we cuddle for a bit first?” He hummed a happy yes before chuckling to himself “dont think you stand do you?” He said with a grin. “Nope” the both of you laughed. Calming down in each other’s embrace.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @kissesmellow21

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allurilove · 6 months ago

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Yandere clown x you?

I hate clowns omhogmgkgmgkgk i’m like scared of them 😭😭

Yandere Clown x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

You’re at a carnival where you meet the hottest clown you have seen. A short drabble, and fucking in front of the funhouse mirror! Fem reader.

The only clown you have ever seen is the stereotypical white face, dramatic makeup, suspenders, and a huge red ball for a nose. They weren’t really your thing, and you were used to them waddling around with those big shoes, and honking their horns at you.

Since when did they have any sex appeal?

The moment they decided to take off their shirts, you understood why people were fawning over them. You came here to be scared—not wound up and aroused. He had fake blood splattered on their chest, their pants low enough that you see their v-line, and you see a tattoo that presumably continues even lower down his body. His face is painted white, red lipstick painted messily on his lips, and dark eyeliner making their eyes pop out. He carries a toy machete in one hand that looks unreasonably sharp.

He carried a small ice-cream cone in his other hand, and he noticed you eyeing it up and down. It was getting late, and all the little food stands were shutting down, and that treat in his hand was the only food you have seen in a while. You were quite hungry—borderline famished after screaming in haunted houses. He approached you, your mouth automatically just dropped open for him to feed you. The creamy vanilla melts around your tongue, and you can’t help but to lock eyes with him as you ate the ice cream. His lips part, his eyes becoming lidded as you were becoming a bit more risqué. It drips down to your chest, you pull back to see it follow the curve of your breast. He raised his brow, his tongue out as he bends down to lick it.

The moment his tongue was on your body— you became putty in his hands. He pulled you into the wonky mirrors exhibit, it’s a tiny tent with a bunch of mirrors that makes you look weird— and you watch as he bends you over, your reflection of your face is of a swirl. He pulled up your costume, his hand touching your ass before giving it a harsh slap. He pulled down your panties, just enough for him to align the head of his cock to your slit.

“Spread your legs a bit more for me…” He mumbled, his knee already pushing them more apart, and he pressed your face into the mirror. The clown slowly slid himself inside you, a slight hiss escaping his lips as you instinctively tensed around his cock. “Oh god…” He groaned, moving in and out of you.

He watched in marvel as you threw your hips back to meet his thrusts, a smirk on his face, “That’s right, fuck yourself on this dick. Show me how much you want it.”

“You feel amazing…” The clown wrapped your hair around his hand, he made you arch your back, and his cock hits into you so deliciously. Your eyes roll back, your thighs shaking and you try to avoid looking at yourself in the mirror. You look weird—obviously—it made your body squiggly. But he thought you looked good— sexy even.

He has a scary wide smile, his other hand repeatedly smacking your ass as his thrusts become harsher. “You wanna cum? Tell me you wanna cum then.”

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jensthwa · 26 days ago

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woo's prelude: a clown's remedy to heal a broken heart (JWY x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

A drunk and kind of akward conversation inside of a closet is the start of Wooyoung's journey into healing his broken heart. Only he doesn't really know the name of the Scarlet Witch that helped mend a heart that wasn't supposed to break anymore, even if she starts plaguing his thoughts and dreams after that.

PAIRING: wooyoung x fem!reader.

GENRE: halloween hookup to [redacted] (we'll get to that when we need to).

WORD COUNT: 11.9k

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, drinking and drunk behavior, mature language, insults, woo getting his heart broken by his ex girfriend even though they're friends and they haven't been romantically involved in YEARS my god he's a dummy, reader getting her heart broken too, some self worth issues, frat bros being stupid and getting drinks throw at them for stepping over the line, howl!wooyoung (not for people with weak hearts and strong imaginations), making out, biting, description of female anatomy, sweet dirty talk and praising , fingering, semi-public (they're at a party, does that count?) and protected sex (wrap it up please), switching them positions for him, masturbation, hook up talk and the start of something new that we won't see for now but soon!

NOTES: hi everyone! decided to do a halloween drop on halloween day because spooky season is not over until i get this story out of my system it seems! this story is PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH / SHOW & TELL UNIVERSE but can be read as a stand alone finally yay! THIS A PRELUDE TO WOO'S STORY, a little taste of what's to come for him and his boo (see what i did there?). this took place BEFORE we can't be friends (san's story) and will be placed accordingly on the masterlist to clear any future confusion. there's mentions of the characters that show up in wcbf so if u want to better understand the dynamics, you can read that but it's def not needed!

this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: october 31st 2024 at midnight!

masterlist

There's a particular way one too many tequilas can make a room spin that Wooyoung absolutely adores.

When it happens, he lets himself catch the world swirling around him before closing his eyes and praying for a little bit of lucidity to come to him so he can get his drunk ass home safely.

As he opens his eyes, his face scrunches at what he sees: San, dressed as Gomez Addams, waving a hand in front of him. It takes him a little to remember where he is.

It's a bit extra confusing with all the costumes and strangers and the music blasting through the speakers but when it finally clicks, he's grateful that he's not completely gone yet.

“Are you good?” He can faintly hear San ask over the music, San’s girlfriend by his side dressed as Morticia, eyeing him with a quirked brow.

Why is San with her? He will never, ever get it.

Kyungmi is not really right for him. It's been a few months already since they made it official and Wooyoung can just tell. He always tells. He's not as oblivious as everyone paints him to be.

There's one girl who's right for San but, in all honesty, Wooyoung is too tired to fight him on it.

San always shoots back with a comment about him and Gyuri, his ex girlfriend (now best friend) and it always brings his mood down for some stupid reason.

He's oblivious to why that happens. By choice, of course, but oblivious nonetheless.

He prefers it that way.

Wooyoung would nod, but he knows it's dangerous to do so “Just peachy.”

“Why don't you—” San starts but he interrupts.

“Some air and water,” he smiles, taking the water bottle from his friend’s hand “Waaaay ahead of you, babe.”

Kyungmi rolls her eyes “Quit calling my boyfriend babe, dude.”

San laughs, Kyungmi does not.

“Don’t be jealous because he loves me more than you,” sticking his tongue out, he stumbles his way around them both “I'll be back.”

He focuses on putting one foot in front of the other until he reaches a very big window. It's larger than usual.

Oh.

It has a door. A door that slides!

It's a balcony. Amazing, just what he needs: To be a safety hazard and a possible traumatic experience for everyone at the party.

He should probably turn back around before he's accidentally leaping over the edge but then he sees it.

He sees her.

Corpse bride. Her blue makeup being wiped off by somebody's tongue in a secluded corner of the backyard of this stupid frat house the friend group ended up for the night.

Gyuri is kissing someone.

His chest tightens, his mouth drops slightly and his heart thumps hard enough for him to feel it on his throat.

Why is she doing that?

She's wearing matching costumes with him. She carefully picked them out, she ordered everything a month and a half ago and now she's kissing some… Some… Attempt at a Superman costume.

Which is pretty fucking hilarious because how do you fuck up a Superman costume?

But Wooyoung is not laughing. He's hurting, he's fucking pissed and, at the same time, he can't pull his eyes away from her. From them.

Is feeling this pathetic something that would fit Víctor?

Vector?

Whatever his name is?

He's never seen the Corpse Bride, so he doesn't remember the name of the dude he's dressed up as. He just knows he wants to wipe the pale complexion Gyuri painted on him off.

Off. Off. Off. Out. He needs to leave.

But he ends up going back inside and downing another shot before he can really think about it, giggling to San and pretending nothing happened because who the fuck is he to Gyuri to get upset over it?

Her ex, sure. But that happened a long time ago, so it doesn't count anymore.

So it doesn't really matter. Nothing really matters when he finds Yeosang (dressed as the Phantom of the Opera) and drags him to the dance floor for what it feels like forever.

And then, one thing leads to the other and he's sitting on the floor, in a circle of people he doesn't even know, playing spin the bottle.

Or is it seven minutes in heaven? A vampire and a fairy kissed in front of him half a second ago, but Zuko and the creepy doll from that one netflix show got up and into a closet like… six minutes ago.

He didn't really pay attention to the rules.

Oh, well, he's about to find out anyway!

Fingers grasping the soju bottle in the middle of the circle, he carefully inspects the faces of everyone sitting there, expectantly looking at him.

His vision is a little blurry but he wants to pick whoever strokes his fancy the most to try and get rid of the funny feeling he gets when he sees Gyuri walk right in front of him and head for the drink table.

He decides quickly that, as long as it makes him forget the image of that dude's tongue down the mouth of the love of his life, he's good.

So he spins the bottle. It spins and it spins and it spins and everyone leans forward in anticipation until it stops in front of someone.

There's someone on his left that audibly gasps and Wooyoung looks at them before his eyes focus on the person he has to… Kiss? Get in a closet with?

What does he need to do?

“You can skip her if you like,” some dude with red paint dripping down his forehead and cargo shorts tells him. He's not even sitting down in the circle but lying on the couch closest to it “She's in a bad mood.”

That’s when the Scarlet Witch that the bottle landed on rolls her eyes and gets up.

Wooyoung thinks he's about to lose his turn and wait for the next round or until the bottle lands on him when she offers him her gloved up hand.

He gets up. He's a little bit more sober now, alert as he plants his feet on the carpet again just to not make a fool of himself, throwing a glance at Gyuri just to find out she's not actually looking at him at all.

The pang on his chest comes back.

“Don't throw a drink on him just for trying to kiss you too, sweetheart, that's what the game is all about,” the same dude from before tells her as they both pass by the couch and head for the space Zuko and the doll who, he assumes, just got done with their seven minutes was occupying “Don’t say I didn't warn ya, Wooyoung!”

Who is this obnoxious motherfucker and why does he know his name?

It takes two and a half hazy steps until the darkness of the small space engulfs him and Scarlet Witch.

It's one of those long closets with narrow walls that leave absolutely no space to move around when you actually need to put something away, but it's a perfect nook to make out.

He would know, he's been in this situation many times.

He lets go of the stranger's hand, only because she turns away from him and then she huffs once the door closes. Wooyoung hears a thump against the wood of it, so he assumes she hit it with her fist or her boot.

“Fucking asshole.” She mutters under her breath but he hears it.

It dawns on him that the reason he sat down to potentially kiss strangers that night was to be seen.

Wooyoung wanted people to see him so they knew he was completely fine and, as soon as Gyuri walked into the room, his motivation was for her to see him doing completely fine.

Cool. He's cool. He's one of the actual cool guys at the university, he's been told so before.

He also wanted her to feel a little bit jealous but now, eyes closed for a few seconds to try and regain composure after whatever just happened, he realizes that she probably wouldn't even care.

So this whole thing is useless anyway. Only now he gets to meet (kiss?) someone dressed as one of his favorite characters of the decade.

There, as his eyes adjust to the minimum light that's filtering under the door, he realizes his mistake: he said nothing to defend her.

In his defense, his drunk brain processes the information a little too late. And, in her defense, Scarlet Witch seemed like she didn't really care what the asshole said in the first place.

Now he notices that's not true.

It's hard to make out her figure but he hears another soft thump and when he turns his head to the right angle, he's able to make out that she just leaned against the door.

He opens his mouth to apologize, he thinks, but she beats him to it.

“We don't have to kiss or… fuck or whatever people do with their seven minutes.”

“Wow,” he laughs, his back finding a wall and almost knocking something placed on a tiny shelf next to his arm “I promise I wasn't expecting you to—”

“Yeah, yeah, save it,” she lets out a breath. “If you want to tell them that we kissed, that's fine by me. I know how your frat bros behave when you don't do what you're supposed to.”

“They're not my frat bros. In fact, they are not even my bros,” he frowns, and slides against the wall because his legs are threatening to give in. He's suddenly very, very exhausted “I don't know them.”

“Isn’t your name Wooyoung?”

“Y-yes?”

“Then you know them,” she shoots back, matter-of-factly “And I'm not interested in kissing any of your kind tonight.”

“My kind?”

“Men,” she clarifies and Wooyoung can feel her smile in her next words “Although frat bros are a different kind of species altogether.”

“I'm not a frat bro!”

It takes a second and his honest frustration but she laughs “Sure.”

In the dark, with his ego bruised and his heart crushed, Wooyoung thinks it's a pretty laugh.

He thinks it's even prettier when he hears a little ruffling and then her body heat invades his space, kind of. She just sat beside him, thigh against his and perfume reaching his nostrils. It's a mix of something sweet and something citrusy.

It's really nice.

He gulps before asking “W-what was that about?” and then points to the door like she can see him.

“He's in one of my classes. He thought he could kiss me and when I said no, because fucking look at the state of him, he tried to kiss me anyway,” she says all chirpy but Wooyoung picks up on the sarcastic tone and let's out a soft ew at the story “I preventively threw my drink on him because I got a little freaked out and now I'm sober and pissed off. I think he's a little upset about me thinking he was about to take advantage of me.”

He grimaces “You can't never be too sure, though.”

She hums and then sighs a: “I know.”

“I don't even know his name but he does sound like a fucking asshole.”

“Why does he know you?”

Wooyoung shrugs and he's a little glad it's dark. He's not exactly smiling, his playful nature not coming out at the moment. “I'm a pretty popular guy.”

“I don't know you.”

“Well, I don't know you either, so we're even,” he shrugs again and it's kind of hypocritical because, to be fair, he didn't get a good look at her face at all “I just know you s-smell nice.” He murmurs, tripping on his words like a babbling drunk idiot.

Maybe because that's what he is right now.

“Thanks… I guess.” She sounds weirded out by that but he's not sober enough to care.

“You're so welcome.”

There's silence in which Wooyoung does nothing but try to find her in the dark. He eventually does, given the fact that the light from under the door casts a little on her face now that she's sitting down.

He doesn't recognize her, which is odd. Wooyoung knows almost everyone. At least her voice would ring a bell but there's absolutely no frivolous memories with this girl and he kind of likes it that way.

If she doesn't know him, she doesn't know about Gyuri. That's a plus because there's no reason for her to be walking on eggshells around him like every other student at the university who finds him attractive.

There's another beat of silence between them both, music blasting outside and making the floor slightly thrum underneath him.

He's not usually this quiet. When he doesn't feel like crying, he's usually very annoyingly outspoken. Mind glowing in red alert, he practically stumbles his words out to fix that.

“I like your costume.”

“You do? People didn't get it.”

“That's because they care more about Captain America than Wanda Maximoff,” he scoffs. “It’s the Multiverse of Madness one, hm?”

“Wandavision post-credit scene,” she whispers back and Wooyoung nods, encouraging her to go on even if she can't see him. He thinks she's about to maybe rant about the show or the character or the party or anything that can help him forget, but she does the opposite “I, uhm… Also like your costume.”

There's a tint of shyness in her voice, like she's not used to being nice.

“Victor, right?”

“I've never seen the movie.” He makes sure to clarify before she asks him about it.

“You don't really have to see the movie to know the character, Wooyoung,” he feels when her head hits the wall slightly, on purpose maybe “I don't like him anyway.”

“Then why did you say you liked my costume?”

“I lied. It's called trying to keep the conversation going,” her explanation makes no sense to him in that state of inebriation, but he lets it go “I don't exactly know what to talk about when I drag someone into a closet.”

Wooyoung pauses and then laughs to himself “We were not exactly supposed to talk in the first place. Have you never done this before?”

“No. I don't usually go to frat parties,” she says after a second where Wooyoung was met with silence, a moment where he wondered if his question was out of line “Coming here tonight was a mistake.”

He finds himself asking without thinking, again “Then why did you?”

“I'm so bored.”

That takes him by surprise.

“Bored?”

“Yes, I'm bored. My dorm room mattress has a hole in it because I never go out and… Well, there's a boy I liked that came here tonight, so, I came as well.”

Liked?

Wooyoung doesn't really ask her about it.

Eyebrows practically touching his scalp, Wooyoung thinks for a split second she's talking about him but that's not really possible because they've never met until now, she said it herself.

“Well did you find him?”

She takes in a shaky breath and then lets it out. Sadness suddenly fills the constricted space and Wooyoung isn't sure if it's just him or if Scarlet Witch is going through a heartbreak as well.

“Yeah, I did” she whispers back and doesn't elaborate, so he doesn't ask “There's a bride going around the party. I saw her, she looks really cool, maybe you could—”

“She's my best friend,” he interrupts because the mention of Gyuri, so directly at that, has his heart racing with anxiety. So long for her not knowing about his ex girlfriend “We, uh… We dated in highschool and we stayed friends, so it's not really happening again.”

“Oh… Do you want it to happen again?”

“W-what?”

“I mean,” she laughs a little awkwardly, like she's nervous “You sounded very sad when you said it, a little angry too.”

“Did I?”

He definitely didn't mean to sound like that at all.

Scarlet Witch hums in agreement and he really thinks about what to answer. The short answer is a simple yes but, if he's being honest, he already knows that they're not good for each other. Not like that, anyway.

“I don't really know what to tell you.”

“You don't have to tell me anything,” she says right away and it calms his nerves a bit. “Just know that there's no real helping when you like someone, it doesn't matter if you thought you didn't like them anymore. It just happens. It sucks but it just happens.”

The unsolicited advice doesn't really help him, if he's being honest. It stirs something inside him that he wants to keep hidden, concealed, so he turns the topic of conversation away from him.

Away from Gyuri.

“Speaking from experience?” He asks, half jokingly.

“Yeah, so I can confidently say that it fucking sucks.”

She turns to him with a smile (he's hyper focused on her, there's no way he could've missed that) before laughing and a tiny force lifts up the corners of his lips. That's one pretty laugh.

Maybe, in an universe where was a little bit more sober, he could've actually spent these seven minutes kissing her.

Kissing her.

He wants to kiss her. That's going to take his mind off Gyuri, sure.

His heart beats quicker this time, for a completely different reason.

He leans in.

He's going to kiss her.

She clears her throat “Are you going to the party next saturday?”

Huh?

Oh.

“Yes, I think so,” he's a little breathless and probably blushing because of what he was about to do “Why?”

After the night he had, he thought he was going to struggle to even bring out this sort of excitement out of himself. When Scarlet Witch raises her gloved hand and brings it to the nape of his neck, he wonders if she actually has magical powers.

It effectively distracts him, it sobers him up and makes him feel drunker at the same time. Short nails caress the skin where her fingers lay and then she grasps the strands of hair sticking out, not gelled down for the sake of his costume.

“Is this real?”

What does she mean? This feeling taking over his body? The heat that spreads all around? He's not sure if it is, if that's what she's asking.

Hia mouth feels like cotton when he asks “Is what real?”

She laughs softly again “The hair, the length.”

Oh.

“Yes, it is.”

Maybe he should've taken his time in answering because, as soon as he does, her touch leaves him.

“You should go as Howl,” she murmurs and he melts a little “It'll suit you better than a Tim Burton character, I think.”

He laughs, it's short lived and through the cloud he feels he's on right now “You think?”

“Yeah,” he can't see her, but he knows she's nodding “Even if you claim that you're not a frat bro. You know, the whole seducing ladies and stuff.”

Wooyoung laughs “Howl did not seduce any ladies, it was all a rumor!”

“He did, in the book.”

“Oh, I don't read.”

“See?” she clicks her tongue and then her shoulder touches his, teasingly “Total frat bro.”

Wooyoung thinks about it again.

Kissing her. Now out of pure want instead of selfish motivations.

She said she didn't want to, earlier, if he recalls correctly and that's okay.

He still wants to though, so…

The question is on the tip of his tongue, he even thinks he makes out the start of it before it's cut off by the sound of the door opening.

Closing his eyes at the sudden intrusion of light, it takes a few seconds for them to adjust to it and, when they do, he finally sees her face.

He should've kissed her.

The costume she's wearing it's cool, sure, and she's even wearing a wig that looks very expensive so he confirms the fact that she likes to dress up sometimes but that's not really what amazes him.

Maybe it's because he sort of already formed a judgment of her character but she's beautiful and he really, really, really, should've kissed her.

“Time's up, you're hogging the closet. Oh, and someone is looking for you,” the girl dressed up as Zuko points in his direction and then, because neither of them makes an effort to stand up, she nods and steps aside “I'll give y'all a minute.”

Scarlet Witch laughs and Wooyoung wishes he could share the sentiment. At this point, he thought he would be done with a makeout session and in desperate need for another drink to keep the night going.

Now, he wants nothing but take her hand in his and find a quiet spot where he can keep getting to know her. Maybe get her number.

And he swears he's going to ask, but the universe is not in his favor. When she turns to him, he loses all ability to speak and when she leans in to peck his cheek his breath hitches and he feels like a teenager getting a crush for the first time.

“In case you need to tell anyone I kissed you,” she whispers in secrecy, leaning back a bit “So you don't have to lie. I hate liars.”

He gulps “Noted.”

She doesn't even give him the opportunity to escort her out of tiny space: she gets up, bolts for the door and when Wooyoung's brain catches on to the gigantic problem of his own creation, as he gets out of the closet and looks around for her, she's already out of his sight.

“Are you good?”

It's the second time tonight San has asked that. It's not annoying by any means but when it comes with the concerned faces of Yeosang, Kyungmi and Gyuri he has to think his response through.

But the Scarlet Witch's words echo in his mind.

I don't like liars.

“No, I'm not,” he says, a little out of breath “I didn't get her name.”

This time, the entire crew joins him, Gyuri, Kyungmi and Yeosang to go to the party.

He wishes his other best friend came along as well, but she's really not that fond of parties in general.

Which sucks because she would look good in a costume and maybe that would prompt San to act on his feelings and break up with Kyungmi in the process.

She was a pain in his ass tonight. Didn't really help his nerves at all.

Yes, he's nervous about possibly seeing Scarlet Witch again.

Yes, he thought about her all week and tried his best to find her on social media but couldn't.

Yes, he's aware tonight's theme for the party is a mix of a masquerade and a normal costume party or whatever the sorority organizing it said in their invite.

And yes, he's dressed up as Howl Pendragon, wearing a black and white mask that he borrowed from one of the girls in the group. They decorated it with little gold and pink stars and it looks cute on him but that's not the point!

Masks complicate his quest for the night.

He hopes that she's here tonight. He also hopes that the costume alone is enough for her to recognize him: There's a lot of people here tonight.

Even waiting in line to pay the cover fee for the party felt stuffy.

He turns to Gyuri and she's laughing at something her date for the night is telling her. That's right, for the first time in many, many years, Wooyoung is not her date.

Superman is. He's dressed in the same costume he saw him in last weekend, he thinks he even sees as smudge of Gyuri’s corpse bride body paint on it.

She's Wonder Woman for the night. So original.

Wooyoung feels bad as soon as the bitter thoughts go through his head. He didn't even know they exchanged numbers, let alone kept chatting to coordinate their costumes for tonight's party.

He found out when she told her that the Raven and Beast Boy costumes would have to wait until next year.

And he, actually, was relieved that he didn't have to paint his face green for God knows how many hours just to keep losing his date in the crowd and finding her kissing someone else.

Ugh.

Bitter. He's as bitter and jealous as someone who has to see the love of his life not give a damn about them or their feelings can be.

But that's okay, he has other plans for the night anyway.

As soon as they all get through security (there's security at a house party, what the hell), they all scatter to do what they do best at parties.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa head for the drink table, Yeosang and Jongho head for a corner of the main room, San, Kyungmi, Gyuri and Superman go straight to the backyard and Mingi, his girlfriend and Yunho walk with him to the dancefloor.

He dances with his friends, he pretends he's paying attention to their banter as his eyes scan the crowd looking for someone familiar behind a mask.

He thinks he remembers her face very well, it stayed on his mind for a whole week but, even after dreaming about their conversation, Wooyoung is having a hard time in finding her.

She didn't even tell him what she was going to dress up as or if she was even going to show up.

Or did she?

His memories are all blended together. He's going to make sure to be sober tonight, just for the sake of remembering every little detail if he does end up finding her.

But the hours go by and he still can't find her.

He's losing hope, he's beginning to believe she didn't even show up to the event which, hey, sucks but that means that he can finally get her out of her head.

Sort of.

There's a Scarlet Witch staring at him. But there's this alluring nature to his Scarlet Witch that can't be replicated, or so he thinks.

He's about to convince himself he drunk dreamed the entire thing but then he sees him.

The obnoxious motherfucker. Her classmate, mister can't-take-no-for-an-answer.

In all honesty, the first thought that crosses his mind is to punch him in the face. He's still dressed up all frat bro-ish and his mask is a paper mask, completely diy-ed and with a dick drawn on the right side.

And then he abandons the thought because, although an asshole, he can lead go finding his Scarlet Witch.

Only issue is: Mister asshole is walking away with a girl on his arm and heading straight to a… room? bathroom?

Stopping his movements, mid a Troye Sivan song and cutting Yunho off in whatever he's telling him, he let's out a loud “Fuck!”

Yunho stops, Mingi and his girlfriend turn slowly to them with wide eyes and concerned expressions

“What did you do to him?” Mingi asks Yunho and his best friend laughs nervously.

“I didn't do anything! Did I do something?” he turns to Wooyoung “I didn't, did I?”

“No, no. Sorry, I… I gotta go.”

“Go where, Serena Van der Woodsen?”

Wooyoung doesn't get the reference Mingi’s girlfriend makes but he laughs like he does “I'll be right back!”

He's never been so determined before, moving through the crowd like his life depends on it and crashing into Batman and his Joker on the way to stop the guy who's potentially changing the course of his night.

“Hey!” He yells behind him but the music is somehow louder on this side of the house and five people turn their heads, but not the guy pushing a Silent Hill nurse into the bathroom door to kiss her before opening it.

Damn it.

He runs faster and faster and he thinks he's going to miss his chance when the tip of his boot catches the door before it fully closes on his face.

Breathing hard, his lips turn up in smirk when he catches the way the guy's face scrunches in confusion before opening the door again and looking at him.

Wooyoung takes it a step further and gets into the bathroom with them, closing the door behind him and lifting up his mask.

“What the fuck, Wooyoung?”

“Hey, so sorry for interrupting your fifth makeout sesh for the night but I need to ask you something. Hi.” He says to the nurse and she smiles a little before turning to the Frat Bro and raising her eyebrow inquisitively.

“And it couldn't wait?!”

“No,” he says right away, smiling sardonically and getting straight to the point afterwards. “So, remember the Scarlet Witch that I ended up going to the closet with last week?”

“Who?”

Wooyoung is going to kill him.

“The girl who threw a drink on you last week for trying to kiss her even if she said no the first time you tried,” he reminds him, “Is she here?”

“Y/N?” the name comes out in a whisper and Wooyoung sucks in a sharp breath.

Y/N.

It fits her.

“Your classmate, yes.”

“Uhm, yeah, I think she's here,” he looks a little embarrassed at the recalling of the events of last week and Wooyoung wants to smile because of it, but he just looks at him with an insistent look so he can catch that he needs more than that to find her. To find you “Look, bro, I don't know where she is right now. I think she's dressed as a… Clown? A jester? Some weird, indie costume, uhm… She has a pointy black birthday hat? I don't know.”

He's slurring his words but that's not enough for Wooyoung to feel bad for him. He, however, does not want to speak with him anymore.

“Alright, thank you for that, I'll… Leave you to it,” he opens the door again and frat idiot scoffs, so he turns and looks directly at the Silent Hill Nurse “Please make him wear a condom.” And he can tell she's a little turned off with the whole conversation.

So, as he closes the bathroom door and scans the crowd one more hopeful time, he counts that as a second victory. A little revenge on your name, even.

He wanders the house, the hallways and rooms and little hideaway spots but he finds no sign of you in them so he heads for the backyard and looks up to the second floor.

The first room is presumably empty, lights turned off and no activity in it the few seconds he observes it.

The second room has an ambiance light turned on and he sees what looks like a Mad Hatter run across the window and then he hears something crashing, so he hopes that's not where you are.

The third room has a balcony. It's dark, there's not one light lit in the entire room but there's neon lights in the backyard and streetlights and the moon casting perfectly on it, so he's able to see it perfectly from where he stands.

And there, draped in some sort of vintage looking clown costume, wearing striped tights and a black and white pointy hat, mask in your hand and your forearms supporting your weight, you stare past him.

You look sad, but it could also be the illusion the makeup you put on gives.

He doesn't know you enough to know what your sad expression looks like and it bothers him a little.

You also don't notice him at all, which is odd, because you're staring directly over his shoulder. You only blink fast and focus on his face once someone calls out:

“Woo!” That's Gyuri's voice. Raising your head, you wave to him and smile a little. He smiles back.

He has to literally force himself to peel his eyes from you and look behind him, at his best friend “Are you okay? Come hang out with us!”

She looks so happy. A little drunk, but happy. San is also right beside her and he shoots him a knowing smirk that he ignores because he has to leave and speak to you.

“I'm a little busy, Yuri. I'll be down in just a sec,” that's a lie but she nods happily and so he turns to you, your smile a little bigger now “Don't move.” He warns cheekily in a whisper and you seem to get it, because you smile wide, raise your arms defensively and open your, once again, gloved hands in defeat.

He practically sprints to the second floor after that.

You hope Wooyoung didn't notice.

Staring daggers at the girl he told you last time is his best friend? Yeah, that could turn into a fight really fast if he reproaches it.

You don't remember her name but you do remember her kissing the guy you've liked since forever. She's been doing that all night tonight, too.

It pisses you off for all the wrong reasons. Sure, she's not exactly at fault, but the human mind is horrid when it comes to mental self flagellation and you, unfortunately, are an expert at that.

All kinds of things went through your head. The main one, a question: Why do you feel so possessive over something that clearly isn't yours?

His heart.

His heart it's not yours, it never was, it never will be.

It's time you come to the realization that that's okay even if it hurts you. The obsession you have over it, over what happened with the two of you it's starting to get pathetic and it makes you feel lonelier than usual.

You really hope Wooyoung didn't notice.

As you walk to the door and unlock the room you claimed for the night (because you want to leave, but the cover was expensive and there's no way you're letting it go to waste) you let yourself detach from the emotions you've been feeling all night.

Wooyoung doesn't need to know what's going on in your head. You have a good memory of him, you even filtered a little last weekend and you want to keep that going.

He doesn't need to know, he doesn't need to stay in your life for too long either.

It makes you giggle when he opens the door and scans the moonlit room of this sorority house like he doesn't really believe you were there in the first place. He smiles wide when his eyes land on you, back against the wall closest to the door.

“Hey.” You say, biting down a smile.

His chest is heaving, like he ran all the way up here and it does nothing but send nervous tingles down your spine.

He smiles beautifully, entering the room and closing the door behind him “Hi.”

Peeling your back from the wall, you start walking around the room because that keeps your body busy and unable to embarrass you.

“Thought I missed you completely tonight, Y/N.”

Frowning, you give him a glance over your shoulder “You know my name.” You say, rather than ask.

“You didn't want me to?”

Shaking your head, there's a tiny smile that curves your lips when you turn to him. He's walking around as well, slowly, carefully, like you're about to disappear if he moves too fast.

“I don't really enjoy mysteries that much.”

He smiles as well “You didn't tell me your name last time.”

“You didn't ask me,” shrugging, you take a few steps his way and scan his costume without any discretion “You see?”

“Hm?”

“How good you look as Howl?” tilting your head slightly, you don't miss the way his cheeks darken slightly and that makes the remains of your shyness disappear from your body. You tell yourself that you, in this room, there must be no space for it. You point at his cape “Was it hard to get this?”

“Overnight shipping,” he whispers, taking a step in your direction “You look very cute.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I really like the, uhm…” he gestures to your costume “Vintage vibe.”

You don't have to be a genius to notice he doesn't really know what you are. “I'm a pierrot clown.”

He scoffs “I knew that.”

“Sure you did, buddy.”

There's a pause and then you both laugh but it dies down quickly and there's this tension between you both you don't really know why it's there.

You two didn't exactly connect that much last time. At least, you don't think you did. He was kind of drunk and you weren't really thinking straight either.

“Y/N…” Your name sounds good out of his lips.

“Yes?”

“Why did you disappear last time?”

That makes you laugh again. You didn't exactly plan on it, you were going to wait for him outside the closet but then you saw them kissing goodbye and your heart couldn't really stand it, so you bolted.

You walk towards one of the two beds, sitting down on it carefully, to not disturb it too much. He follows you with his eyes, his head turning slightly in order to do so.

“You mean when I left the party? I didn't disappear on you,” that's not really a lie, you convince yourself. You kind of bid your goodbye to him that night “Didn’t think you wanted me to stay, either. Did they give you too much shit?”

“For what?”

“I clearly didn't kiss you that night. I think it was obvious, so… Your frat bros didn't give you shit for it?”

Closing his eyes, the smile he gives you in return for the inside joke you two have going on makes your heart flutter “Stop insisting on that, will you?”

“You can't really fight the truth, Wooyoung.”

“Hm,” he walks over to you again, sitting on the bed next with his thigh touching yours. Innecesarlly so, because there's plenty of space, but you enjoy the warmth it spreads around your body so you don't say anything “You did tell me you didn't like liars.”

“Oh, you remember that?”

“I remember everything,” he nods, “I wasn't that drunk.”

You give him a look “Weren't you?”

He laughs again and you follow, pushing him slightly with your shoulder like you did back in the closet as well.

You don't really know what to say anymore, so you clear your throat slightly.

“Are you enjoying the party?”

“Are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You seemed kind of sad when I saw you, there,” he points at the balcony and that makes you sigh. He noticed, kind of. That's disappointing and impressive at the same time. “I thought it was the makeup but it doesn't really seem like it.”

“I’m not sad,” you admit, “I'm hurt.”

“Isn't that the same thing?”

“Not really, no,” shaking your head, you stare out of the big panel windows into the night sky. He doesn't need to know entirely, but you can tell him something about it “Remember the guy I told you about last time?”

“The guy you went to the party for?”

You nod “Well, he's here tonight too. With a date this time.”

“Oh,” when you turn, catch him licking his lips before continuing and your eyes are fixed on the motion for a second too long “And that hurts you, duh, obviously.”

You think it's adorable he's also a little nervous but you only smile and don't give him shit for it like you would do to anyone else “When you're obsessed with the idea of someone specifically seeing you a certain way, yes, it hurts,” you shrug “I'll get over it though.”

“I feel that,” he says and you can imagine. You sensed it in his feelings last time, you can't actually believe the coincidence and irony of it all “Did you and this guy…?”

“We went to highschool together. He was the only person who I thought saw me for who I was, whoever that is,” there's a bitterness in the laugh you let out you don't enjoy “We kissed a few times, he told me pretty things and I feel. Totally forgot about me when he had a summer glow up before we started our first semester, though.”

“Well, he's an asshole.”

“He's not, not really,” and you desperately need to change the topic to him, so you bump your shoulder against him one more time “Did you come with your Sophie?” you ask, pretending to not know about Wonder Woman and the fact that she's here with somebody else.

He catches who you're talking about, though and shakes his head, giving you. tight smile.

“No, no, uhm… She has a date.”

You hum “Are you hurt too?”

“I'm bitter,” he whispers back, right away “Don't know if that's the same as being hurt, but I'm bitter.”

Silence falls comfortably around the understanding in between you both. You stare at each other, lips slowly curving upwards until you end up laughing yet again at the absurdity of the situations you're both in.

“Guess we're just… A pair of losers tonight, huh?”

“And what a pair we make.”

You agree. There's this electricity running through you, you even dare to say it's running through him too and it makes you slightly regret not kissing him last week.

If you did, the desire to do so right now would be easier to come to terms with.

Thankfully, the same thing seems to be going through his mind “I know I was drunk, but I wanted to kiss you so bad.”

“Are you drunk now?” You ask back in a whisper. He shakes his head.

“Don't want to ruin your pretty makeup. Besides, you said last time—”

You lean into his space a bit.

“That was then,” you interrupt with a tiny smile “And now is now.”

“That's how time usually works, yes,” he laughs and you join, rolling your eyes at the bad joke. You can see the second he makes the decision, his hand hesitantly finding your cheek and, when you don't recoil at the possible contact, he leaves it there “But are you sure it's okay?”

You know why he's asking. He doesn't want to take advantage of a vulnerable moment, neither do you.

But you want to kiss him.

“It’s matte,” you say instead and you hope he understands the real meaning behind your answer “The lipstick, it's matte. And the base It's set with really good powder, too, because I thought…”

You thought that somebody else was going to kiss you tonight.

He gets it. He understands why you did it and he scoffs with mild annoyance at it, which makes you smile.

“Y/N,” he closes the distance between you even more and your breath hitches with anticipation before he whispers: “I'm going to kiss you so good, you'll forget about his lips forever.”

That's the best thing someone has ever said to you, ever. You shudder at the thought and just stare, eyes dropping when he leans in further and his nose bumps into yours.

“Do you want that?”

Sleeping with Wooyoung won’t fix your problems. It sure won’t, not yours, not his but it doesn’t need to. You don’t know what the remedy for a wounded heart is but a distraction from the hurt can’t be all that bad.

It's still a little bit pathetic how you whimper in response to his question.

But it gains you the prize of tasting him for the first time, his minty flavor mixing with the remnants of whatever soda you had earlier and you sigh into the encounter. He’s not as delicate as you thought he would be.

Wooyoung kisses you hard, with want, with need, with something you recognize in yourself and give back: the need for a distraction, for a feeling other than that hurt and bitterness you two mentioned not even three minutes ago.

You don't know what to do with your hands, where to put them, but he fixes that. He grabs them, puts them on his shoulder, scoots a bit more into you and so your chest touches his and he sighs in contentment at that.

You feel a little bit nervous, but that’s okay.

It’s not like you’ve never been touched, like you’ve never done this sort of thing but it is the first time you want it. You want him.

You’re not numb this time around, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when his other hand joins and keeps you in place, pulling back a second to take in some air before going back in for another toe curling kiss.

Mind disconnecting from the outside world, you curse the layers of clothing (and there’s a lot) in between you when his hands travel down to your waist, against your body, caressing it and then grasping it in a way you’ve never felt before.

It’s not rushed and it doesn’t really feel like something that you both want to get out of your system even though it is. You don’t really expect Wooyoung to ask you on a date after hooking up at a sorority party, after all.

Oh.

The party, that’s right. Did you lock the door? No, no. He walked in and didn't, you think.

You can’t really think straight when he’s biting your bottom lip and then licking it as an apology for his misbehaving. It draws a breathy moan out of you and he drinks it, tongue meeting yours for the first time ever as you stand up from the bed, kiss never breaking, his

body following yours.

You’re wearing a lace ruffle white collar that goes with your costume. It’s cute, surprisingly not itchy at all and right now it seems to be getting in his way. His fingers look for the velcro clasp and then, when he loosens it enough, he janks it off.

Somehow, you enjoy the theatrics and you giggle as his mouth abandons yours.

“Woo…” You manage to say when his lips start to make acquaintance with your neck, over your pulse. Craning your head to the side, he moves to the skin that unveils because of it and it’s hard to think of anything but the way you start to tremble under his touch.

Grounding yourself by sinking your fingers in his hair, you attempt to speak again but he keeps distracting you.

“Fuck, say that again.”

Humming, you return “Woo,” you say again, “the door…”

He moves to the other side of your neck “What about it?”

“It’s— Oh,” teeth sink into your skin and you moan out loud, you can practically feel his smirk on your skin after that and your face burns as a consequence. “W-we need to lock it.”

“Afraid someone will walk in on us?” he finally pulls away enough for you to see his face. His lips are swollen and there’s a flush across his cheeks that sits beautifully there when he smiles, forehead resting against yours a second later “You don’t like that thought?”

There’s a part of you that doesn’t think it’s proper. It’s bad enough you’re hooking up with a somewhat stranger in a room that isn’t yours, but people finding out? That should terrify you.

But it doesn’t. He seems to read it on your delayed response and the way your eyes widen with need when he pulls away again to watch your reaction to what he said.

“You do, don’t you?” and then you’re moving, backwards, backwards, backwards until your back hits the door and there’s this passion glistening in his eye that excites you and sends spikes down your spine and into your core “You want people to know I’m kissing you dumb, hm? You want them to see what I’m doing to you?”

He pauses and you feel like it’s on purpose, you feel like he takes in you heaving chest and the way your eyes follow the veins down his arms when he presses his hand behind you, pushing into your space a bit more and you should feel overwhelmed like you normally do with everyone else, but you don’t.

You want him to get even closer.

“You want them to see what you do to me?”

His whisper shakes you, awakens something in you that you desperately want to explore. It makes you feel shy and brave at the same time and the contradiction makes you bite down a smile.

There’s no need for you to see what you’re doing to him, you can feel it when the hand that wanders to his waist pulls him closer, forward, until his hips meet yours and his leg finds a home between yours. Grunting, he raises a brow and gives you a knowing grin, but you enjoy surprising people.

Your black gloves contrast against his skin and the white of his shirt when you caress the arm planted next to you and he follows the motion, letting out a breath “What if I don’t?” you ask, low, like it’s a secret you don’t want anyone else to find out even if you’re alone in this room “What if I want to keep you all to myself?” Watching his expression carefully, you try to measure if you’re crossing the invisible hookup line with your words but he closes his eyes and there’s no way for you to tell, so you correct your possible mistake in a whisper “For the night. You don’t want me to be only yours tonight?”

Something twitches against your leg and the brief tension melts from your shoulder. Damn, you’re not that mouthy during these sort of scenarios so you almost, almost fucked up, huh?

It doesn’t really matter when his free hand brushes his knuckles against your stomach, over your clothes and the ridiculously big buttons of your costume and then leaves you to twist the lock on the door “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, by the way.”

“I want you.” The words get out before you think it through and you don’t mind it. You value honesty, you love when your body acts before your mind has the time to make you feel ashamed of your own feelings and wants.

It pays off because his expression morphs in pure want and his tone is a whimper when he begs you, forehead meeting yours again “Again.”

“I want you, Woo…” You whisper against his lips and then his mouth is on yours hungrier than ever before. The wood hurts against your back but Wooyoung’s hands pull you against him to move you away from it.

This time, your hands know exactly what to do, because you know exactly what you want. They tug at his cape, trying to find the clasp of it with desperate trembles because your heart is beating faster and faster and you’re impatient, body too impertinent and rebelling against your wishes of taking this slow and savoring every little touch.

Cape on the floor, you feel his hand trying to figure out your costume. It makes you laugh and you’re glad he returns it, looking down at it and frowning at all the fabric he finds. With your hands against his chest, you push him into the mattress and he lands gracefully on it, supporting himself with his arms “I’ll do it.”

“Baby, this is a great costume and you look so fucking cute on it but why is there so much layering?”

The nickname is new and he doesn’t seem to catch that it slipped out of his mouth so you don’t comment on it but it sure deepens the color on your cheeks and you laugh shyly, tilting your head to side in a playful manner.

“I told you I like dressing up.”

“And it shows! Mine’s a little simple,” without the cape, he just looks like a dude with a loose white shirt and black trousers. A handsome dude, but just a dude nevertheless “But I wanted you to find me, so…”

“What was the first option?”

“Beast Boy.”

There’s something that crosses his expression that goes away the second he sees you slowly working the buttons and the skin underneath reveal after each one. His eyes fix on it and you’re sure you look ridiculous in the makeup and the get up and all but he’s looking at you with so much need you feel sexy wearing it.

The shirt comes off. You’re wearing a cropped top and a bra underneath and you hook your thumbs under it to make him believe you’re taking it off, but you don’t.

“You’re killing me.” He groans out and you laugh at him, making a show of bringing your hands down your torso and into your hips. You move to take off the striped bloomers that are matching with the tights you plan on taking off next.

Your underwear doesn’t exactly match but you weren’t really planning on any of this with anyone. You weren’t planning on going this far but you don’t really care when it’s all, eventually, it’s just going to be off, so it doesn’t really matter.

“Want to take these off yourself or you’re going to make me do all the work?”

Smiling, he sits straight on the bed, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his mouth he nips the satin fabric of your glove, it loosening around your index when he pulls. He must see the way it affects you immediately, the way you breath catches, because the corner of his lips lifts up before he does the same to the thumb, the middle finger, the ring and the pinky and then he pulls the glove completely off.

You feel like you short circuit for a second, even more so when he keeps the hand close to him and starts kissing the pad of your fingers so softly it doesn’t match the hunger in his eyes at all.

And you’re killing him?

It happens in a flash but the other glove is off and then your tights, your top and his shirt are off and on the floor and you’re sitting on his lap, tongue parting his lips and mouth bruising against his and you feel like you’re in a small pocket in time no one can really disturb. No one can burst this bubble, this cloud you land on when he turns you around and the expensive material of the sheets touches your bare back.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

When did he take off your bra? It doesn’t matter, his lips are making their way down your throat and exploring your chest, gaining puffs of air and moans from you when he flicks your nipples with his tongue, expert and careful, measuring your reaction and doing it again when your back arches off the bed instead of verbally asking for more.

He kisses down, down until his teeth are catching your underwear. Looking up to you, he searches for an answer in your eyes and you both come to an unspoken agreement. Even if you’re both taking your time in exploring each other, there’s no actual time for him to eat you out, for you to get on your knees and taste him as well.

You immediately wonder if there’s going to be another opportunity to do all of that. Either way, there’s not enough time to wonder. You help him get out of his trousers, his boxer briefs and you stare at him with an eyebrow up and an open and watering mouth.

He laughs at your reaction, like he was expecting it.

He stops laughing when you reach for him. Breathing hard when your thumb teases his tip, gathering precum, he shakes his head and you immediately stop “Baby, we… Not tonight.”

Then when? You want to ask.

You just nod before bringing the thumb to your mouth, tasting him and humming in content. Wooyoung leans in and puts his tongue on yours a second later.

He smiles, teeth sinking on your bottom lip before diving in for another kiss “Dirty girl.” He teases you and you shrug.

“You look so good,” You say against him, pecking his lips, “Couldn’t help myself,” fingers grasping the hairs at the nape of his neck, like you did the night you met, you stop him from kissing you again just to whisper “You taste so good too.”

His eyes almost roll at that, hips stuttering against you and almost brushing where they need to. “Fuck, don’t say shit like that to me, Y/N.”

“Sorry.” You say but it’s clear in your smile that you’re not sorry at all and maybe you shouldn’t have because when it comes to taking your last piece of clothing off, he takes his time.

Fingernails raise goosebumps as they softly go through your skin and he lets out a ragged breath “So fucking beautiful.”

You feel beautiful. That’s good, because earlier tonight, before you catched him staring up at you on the balcony, you felt undesirable. You felt little, small, incomparable in the worst way possible because… Why not you?

His words reassure you. Even if you know that’s something you need to do yourself (built enough confidence to not let the choices of a man who doesn’t give a damn about you define your self worth), it helps you tend that wound that reopened.

He touches you and you feel worth it again. You believe it when your panties fall to the ground and your legs part for him and he looks at you in delight, thumb finding your clit and circling it right away “So fucking wet, fuck.”

Your hips go up when he finds the right pacing, the right pressure to it and you really shouldn't moan this loud but you don’t care when he lets out a moan of his own at the way your face scrunches in pleasure “I want you.” You let out, breathy and pliant under his touch.

“You got me,” he’s sweating but you don’t really care, you love the way his pretty nose touches yours when he leans in, index searching and then entering you. “Fuck, I could slip right in, hm? Is that what you want?”

A moan slips out when he finds your sweet spot and strokes it carefully, he takes it as a reply and, honestly, it is all you can let out at the moment. You squeeze the second finger as it enters you, so it gives away how much you like the thought of that.

“You do,” he says, teasingly and smiles against your lips as he pecks it “Dirty girl,” He repeats and you shake your head again, hips bucking up when the heel of his hand press against your clit and it sends a new wave of heat across your entire body “Impatient girl. I wish you were in my room now, fuck.”

You wish that too.

“Woo…”

“I had to—”

“I know but there’s people—” Passing the door, you can sense it. In this midst of anything, you can sense it.

“Who cares about them—”

There’s a phone vibrating somewhere in the room and it’s definitely not yours. He ignores it, fingers picking up their pace.

“I need you,” you whisper, propping yourself up to kiss his mouth “Please, please fuck me.”

“I want you to come first.” He communicates his crude intention so cutely you might actually miss him when this is all over.

“And I want to come with you.”

That stops him and you can literally feel him get harder where he rests against your inner thigh.

“Condom?” You ask in a whisper.

“Condom, right, fuck—” Both moving to reach his pants on the floor, you giggle and his lips find your cheek for a second as your torsos hang from the bed and you can safely say you never had more fun during sex before this.

It’s lighthearted even if you’re both practically strangers and then it grows hot, sexy, passionate again when he finds the condom, breaks the package open and then rolls it on with practiced moves. He kisses you, laying back down against the pillows and aligning himself with your entrance.

“Wait, let me just…”

“What?”

You turn around, laying flat on your chest and arching your back just a little so that you can open up your legs for him to enter. You look at him over your shoulder and his surprised expression makes you giggle “You never tried this one?” you ask and at his silence, you nod “Look how easy it is for me to—” Reaching down your stomach and reaching your clit with your fingers for him to see, you circle it a few times and close your eyes at the sensation.

He kisses the small of your back “Holy fuck, Y//N.”

“I told you that I’m coming with you, I’m helping.”

He leans into you, his tip pressing against your clit deliciously “You’re so fucking hot, I almost came.”

“That’s the point, Woo.” You say through pants, his hands kneading your ass and spreading you open for him to see. It’s a little nasty and you wonder what you both could do with a little more time and less people waiting for you outside. For him, at least.

When he enters you, the moan that leaves you echoes his and you probably needed just a little bit more prep for the size of him but since you’re so turned on it barely matters when he’s completely seated inside of you and this position just makes it feel ten times better “You feel so good, baby, fuck.”

“Yeah?” His chest is touching your back now and his lips are leaving open mouth kisses on your shoulder. He moves his hips experimentally and you moan into the sheets, sweat running down your neck and your chest into them but you don’t have time to feel bad for the owner of the bed at all “Was that okay?”

“You can go harder.”

“Yeah? Fuck.”

He complies right away and it feels so good you let yourself close your eyes and fully enjoy it, consequences be damned.

People outside the room hearing you moan? Who cares when your fingers the weight of Wooyoung against you feels so right?

When his thrusts help you grind your clit on your fingers just right, especially when he increases the speed of them and the wave of pleasure that hits you squeezes him around you so good his moan bounces off the walls and outside of the balcony where someone downstairs giggles and whistles.

“Oh, God,” he says, a little ashamed but never slowing down and you turn your head, searching for his lips “We should’ve closed that door too.”

You decide to tease him to wipe that emotion from him and just focus on you “Thought you wanted to give people a show.”

Opening your eyes, you are able to watch when his eyes harden slightly at the thought, pace faltering as he lets out a tiny whimper.

“And I thought you wanted me for yourself tonight,” he resumes his relentless pace, thrusting in and out of you with ease now and your cheek meets the sheets again so the bed can muffle your sounds “Maybe next time.”

Next time.

You don't really have time to dwell on what that means because you’re so worked up it won’t take much for you to come. You let Wooyoung know and he nods, his forehead against your shoulder again “Kiss me.” He whispers and you crane your neck to do so, to swallow his moans down and keep them with you forever.

You swallow all of them down when his hips stutter and he comes and you know he keeps yours when you let yourself come right alone with him. He fucks you through both of your orgasms and slows down gradually until he grows sensitive and hisses at any tiny movement and your arms go kind of numb underneath you.

There’s a sense of urgency your mind picks up immediately after but you ignore it. You have nowhere to go and they charged you twenty dollars to get into this stupid party so they can wait for you two to return to it.

But there’s a phone vibrating somewhere. And even if you both hear it, Wooyoung turns you around and leans in to give you a kiss so sweet you almost want to keep it with you as well.

When he pulls away, you wipe the sweat on his forehead with your hands and brush the hair out his face so delicately he closes his eyes and seems to enjoy your touch.

Now what the hell should you say at a moment like this? Where he doesn’t seem in any rush to leave you and you don’t really want him to leave either.

Do you tell him he did good? Do you tell him you enjoyed it, that he made you feel safe? That’s the first time in ages you enjoy a quick fuck this much?

That—

“Please give me your number.”

Oh, he’s actually adorable. He takes your stunned expression and silence the wrong way, though, and he sits on his knees, pulling out of you and working on getting his condom off while he speaks.

“I can give you at least ten reasons you should give me your number. Number one, I enjoyed this a lot and I can do better if you give me time, number two—”

“Woo, you literally just fucked me with clown makeup on. I think we’re past you giving me reasons to sleep with you,” you sit up as well, taking his face in your hands again and leaning in to kiss his cheek soundly “Give me your phone.”

He gets off the bed and looks around the room for the trash can. It’s a tiny one, sitting on top of a desk and you really, really start to feel bad for the girls who are going to have to sleep off their drunken night in this room. You’re surprised that no one knocked on the door but, on party eastern time, it’s still kind of early.

Two thirty am reads the clock on Wooyoung’s phone when he hands it to you, unblocked. There’s messages flowing in and you try your best to not read them as you enter your number and name into his contacts but you do notice they’re from a group chat.

You wonder if his friend group is big, if he’s close to all of them, what kind of friend he is. You’re impatient, you want to get to know him all of the sudden and you know it’s dangerous for expectations to grow after a hookup but, as you hand him his phone back, you can’t help but let out a “Woo, do you just want to fuck me or do you want to be my friend too? Something more?”

He’s reading the messages on the group chat with a frown when your questions register in his brain and he looks up, a curious expression and a tiny smile “You’re very direct, aren’t you?”

“I hate wondering and mysteries,” you shrug, “I don’t want to expect the wrong thing.”

“Fair,” he nods. “I’m more of a… Just wait and see what happens kind of guy, but if you want an honest answer I just don’t really know. I want to see you again, though.”

“I want to see you again, too,” You murmur back and he smiles, leaning in a fraction to try and kiss you again but then there’s a thud against the door and a soft ouch coming from behind it that interrupts you “We should really get out of here.”

It takes a millisecond for him to misinterpret what you meant, smirk growing on his lips when you shake your head disapprovingly and blushing while you pick your panties from the ground and get up to slip them on.

“Not what I meant!”

“I mean,” he starts to dress himself as well, “I wouldn’t mind.”

“No,” you say but you don’t sound so sure of it yourself and it makes him smile even wider, so you roll your eyes. “Where are my…”

“Here.” He hands you the tights and you thank him, almost falling while trying to put them on fast the next second. He laughs at you “Just sit down, babe.”

“Don’t laugh!”

“I’m literally not!”

You tease each other as you get in costume again. This time the fabric bothers you a little but only because you’re sticky and sweaty even if it’s the last day of october.

Fully clothed, you walk to the door and you suddenly feel very shy and nervous at what can await you behind it. Wooyoung seems to see it on your face, so he steps in your space and kisses your lips sweetly, holding your waist respectfully like he didn’t just make you come less than ten minutes ago.

“I’m so glad I met you,” he whispers against you and you melt even if you don’t want to. He doesn’t specify why and you don’t ask, but he does smile when you peck his lips one last time before stepping away “Do you want to step out together or do you want to go first, should I go first? We can meet downstairs,” he clarifies before you can think the worst and you giggle “We can leave together too, if you want.”

You know he means the party.

But his phone vibrates again, insistently shaking in his pocket and you rest your head against the door softly “I feel like you have people that need you right now.”

He takes the phone out of his pocket. The screen reads “yuri”, with a series of heart emojis and a middle finger emoji at the end and his expressions turn worrisome immediately.

“Shit, no, you’re right, um…”

Stepping away from the door, you grab the knob and open it for him “Do your thing, Woo.”

You think you know exactly who's calling him.

Like you already knew, sleeping with Wooyoung didn't fix yours problems at all:

It hurts that she's been chosen over you again, but you keep the soft smile on your lips either way.

“I'll text you. I'll call you, I—” he leans into you again, stealing a hard, parting kiss that you probably are going to think about until he keeps his promise “Hey, everything alright?” You faintly hear when he picks up the call.

When he leaves the room and closes the door behind him, you sag against the wood of it and let yourself meet the cold floor to try and plan out how you're getting out of there and how long it would take you to walk to your dorm room at this time.

But then your phone digs in your hand, screen lighting up the dark room and your face.

+82-8-918-2910: my friend got sick bc she drank too much. wish i could take you to your dorm. text me when you get there, yeah? x

It makes you smile. Despite it all, it makes you smile really hard.

+82-8-918-2910: it's wooyoung btw ;) +82-8-918-2910: send me pic of how you save meeeee +82-8-918-2910: okay my friend is puking in the pool and her date it's fucking useless i have to go text me back pls!! xx

When you catch yourself re-reading the texts on your home screen and grinning, this time like a complete fucking idiot, you know you'll have to start thinking of another recipe to mend yet another broken heart.

That's fine. At least you're not thinking about Superman anymore.

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated, don't be afraid to go to my inbox and leave your thoughts there, i love reading them!

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liveyun · 1 month ago

Text

WIRED | k.nj

summary. You’ve spent years perfecting your first android. But as you power him on for the first time, something feels off. The sense of control you once had begins to slip, and suddenly, you realize—he may be is more than just a machine.

title. wired

pairing. kim namjoon x fem reader (oc), hints of jungkook x oc

genre. android!au, yandere(?) , dark content

wc. 3.7k

warnings. oh boy here we go, scientist!oc, android!joon, unsettling themes as in psycological manipulation, obsessive behaviour and slight yandere, mild horror (oc realises she’s cooked lmfaoo) (halloween special?) slight non-con themes but no nsfw tho, dominance, android joon is hot byee, jungkook! jungkook ? . . . lots of technical terms which you might need to google if you are unfamiliar with them like i was xD, implied stalking (you will understand who is), i really tried 🙏🏾

this smol drabble was really inspired by artificial heart by @writerpetals ! please check her works out, she’s amazing!

main masterlist | taglist

The lab is quiet.

Too quiet.

You stand in the stillness, only the faint hum of cooling fans breaking the silence echoing in your ears. The familiar mechanical sounds — servo motors whirring softly, air ducts breathing through the vents — all the familiar characteristics of your good old lab used to calm you.

But tonight, the sounds seem different.

Almost. . . detached. Like they belong to someone else’s lab. And you are just a guest here, standing in the middle of absolutely nowhere.

You take a slow breath, your eyes drifting over the towering figure in front of you, the cylindrical glass sheath unlocked from over his model.

RM.

The product of months — no, years — of work. Of restless nights, of failure and determination. From the initial sketches to the delicate wiring of his artificial synapses, you had envisioned every piece, every movement. You had wanted him to be different. Special.

You had wanted him to be human.

Or at least, as close to a human as possible. His skin, so perfect in its imitation, stretched smoothly over the metallic frame beneath. His lips — plump, lifelike — looked almost too real. His dragon-like eyes, sharp and crystalline, seemed to glow even in the dim light of the lab. Even when there was no life, no, power running inside his veins. Every feature had been carefully crafted with Jungkook’s help, to help the ideal you had in mind.

But now that he’s finished, now that he stands in front of you, lifeless but complete, the pride you once felt has faded into something else. Something. . .unsettling.

You wanted this — this perfection. This mirror of humanity. Yet as you stare at RM, your skin prickling under the too-bright overhead lights, you can’t shake the feeling that maybe you’ve gone too far. Maybe there was a reason no one else had tried this before.

A reason why no android had ever been designed to look this human like. Every shield, every plaster, every pore — looks so detailed that it’s nearly impossible to figure out if he’s artificial, given if no one would tell you so.

But why does it feel like you’ve actually gone too far when this was what exactly you wanted?

You don’t know. And perhaps, you wouldn’t want to know, too.

His memory doesn’t even exist. There’s nothing in him but the database you installed, an organised collection of information that dictates what he knows, how he functions, and why was he created. And yet, staring at him now, you could swear there’s something behind those dormant eyes. Something watching. Waiting.

You shake your head. He’s just a machine. He isn’t human — no matter how real he looks, no matter how lifelike his features are. You created him, after all.

You’re in control.

Your gaze flickers to the small panel embedded in his chest. One button. One switch, and everything inside him — the circuits, the synapses, the artificial intelligence you spent months programming — would power down. A single press, and he’s nothing more than a shell. A hollow, empty thing, dependent entirely on your commands, on your fingertips.

Made by you.

But the thought doesn’t comfort you as much as it should.

You take a step closer, your breath catching as you reach out, fingertips hovering just inches from his face. The skin feels warm, almost soft, even though you know it’s just layers of silicone and synthetics. Too real. His eyes, though they haven’t opened, seem to bore into you.

Maybe it’s just your imagination. After all, he’s not alive.

He’s not human.

You remind yourself again, a small voice in your own mind, trying to push away the small seed of doubt. But it lingers, growing roots in the back of your thoughts.

And for the first time, you wonder if you’ve created something you can’t quite understand.

You nibble on your bottom lips, suddenly feeling your palms getting clammy despite the air conditioning system in your lab. Today was supposed to be the day when you were finally going to run your creation for the first time ever after being completed, but now it just feels. . .

What does it feel like?

It took you so many attempts. So many glitches and bugs which nearly made you demotivated enough to abandon your project for nearly two months, but you see, motivation hits the hardest at the most random of times. You remember how your phone restarting had made your heart skip a beat, and suddenly you’d found yourself driving to your lab at 2:30 AM with tears in your eyes out of frustration and relief.

After that, everything is history.

You stare at him for what feels like hours, though it’s probably only a few seconds. His hair is neatly combed to the side of his face, his cheekbones structured and chiseled. Even his skin tone looks like he’s been bathed in a tub of golden honey. He looks beautiful, almost perfect. But why does that bring a furrow to your eyebrows?

The lab remains deathly quiet, except for the faint buzz of cooling fans and the occasional whirring of the air ducts. RM stands there, unmoving.

You force yourself to look away, eyes trailing to the control panel on the desk. The switch. Your thumb hovers over the console, the last line of code entered and waiting to be executed. Once you press it, he will come to life. He’ll be fully operational, with his intelligence — his programmed brilliance — at your command.

And yet, something holds you back.

You look at his nametag on his chest.

RM#007613.

“RM?” Jungkook had asked, raising an eyebrow as he’d stuffed his mouth with a spoonful of chocolate puffs. “Why that name?”

You had smiled back then, filled with excitement, as you explained, “It stands for ‘Rational Mind.’ ” Perhaps you had lied. “The whole point of his existence is to be the smartest, most logical being ever created.” You’d said, proud of your vision. “His intelligence will surpass that of any human.” You’d glanced at the design on the screen—tall, imposing, his features still in the early stages of development. Even in the rough drafts, there was something about him.

Jungkook had leaned in closer, munching noisily as he’d raised a brow, studying the lines of RM’s face that he’d helped perfect. “I guess that fits for an android. . .” He’d tapped the image lightly with his finger, his expression thoughtful, doe eyes sparkling under the dim light of your bedroom lamp. “But what happens when a mind like that… I don’t know, becomes irrational?”

“You know, there’s a very small difference between a genius and an insane person,” he had said, his gaze suddenly zoning out, as if he was lost in some thought.

You had brushed off the question with a laugh, dismissing the idea as you’d turned off your tablet, pushing the fellow out of your bed. “He’s a machine. That won’t happen. He’s designed to be logical. It’s all about control, koo.”

In theory, everything about RM should function perfectly. His neural networks, his memory database, his artificial joints — everything had been tested, retested, and optimized. There were no bugs. No glitches. At least, that’s what the diagnostics said. But there’s still a tug in your chest as you hesitate.

Why are you hesitating?

With a deep breath, you push aside the uncertainty. You’re in control. RM isn’t a human. He’s a machine—a very advanced one, yes, but a machine nonetheless. You spent months perfecting him for this moment, to stand infront of you as a complete form.

It’s time.

You take a deep breath, eyes flickering between the buttons on the console. Your finger hovers over the power button, the familiar design a reminder of your countless sleepless nights spent perfecting it. But just beside it, another button glows a faint, off-white hue — the Sensory button, or what Jungkook liked calling it, the emotional hellhole.

And he was right.

It was indeed like a hellhole of a switch — you solely had spent like what, eight months designing this to decency, but you’d failed each time. It was a secondary function you had designed as a fallback, meant to activate only when RM couldn’t process complex human prompts.

You see, humans had real emotions which they could feel and radiate, which you knew your android couldn’t catch. In the earlier patches of knowledge testing you were already aware of this default flaw, and this was the only thing you’d ranted to Jungkook nearly every day.

Every night. Whether it was on call or in person, it usually resulted in him falling asleep listening to you and you yapping in silence about how was that a pain in the ass and could possibly be a hindrance to your Android’s perfection.

It was supposed to be a failsafe.

But the reality had been different. The programming proved to be too difficult , too unpredictable. Instead of activating only in specific situations, the switch became an integral part of RM’s system, functioning constantly, allowing him to assess and react to everything around him. No matter how hard you’d tried, how many times you’d yourself test it out — it just didn’t work.

Even the fact that it was initially meant to be on his left forehead temple — but that didn’t work out as well.

Now, RM wasn’t just an assistant to analyze when prompted; he was learning all the time, observing, adapting. It would make him work and behave more like a human, soaking in attributes the more he hangs out with real ones.

The only difference would be is that he would never be a human, no matter whatever.

You never intended for it to be this way. It wasn’t supposed to run indefinitely. But every time he powered up, the system defaulted to enabling the switch on its own.

You sigh. It’s really about time, you guess.

With a soft click, his power switch is flipped.

For a moment, nothing happens. The room is still, silent except for the faint hum of the lab’s ventilation system and perhaps your own heartbeat resonating in your ear drums. You feel a sweat bead run down your spine, your breath held in your lungs. Then, there’s a subtle shift — a flicker of light in RM’s eyes, and his sensory button turns a bright shade of yellowish undertone.

His systems are booting up.

You watch as the light in his gaze stabilizes, the faintest twitch of recognition crossing his features. His eyes are back to his normal, warm hue, and his sensory button is a normal white hue now.

It flickers to green first. RM’s eyes move slowly, scanning the room. Green means analysis — he’s observing, taking in every detail, cataloging each object and variable around him. His dragon-like eyes sweep across the lab with cold precision, but when they land on you, the button shifts to blue.

You freeze.

Your hand resting on your notebook shakes. Why does this feel so odd? Why do you feel nervous?

He’s thinking. Processing. The blue light pulses as RM tilts his head slightly, his gaze narrowing as if trying to understand more than what’s directly in front of him. You feel your skin prickle under his stare, the cold air of the lab a bit too cool on your skin.

Slowly, RM begins to move. His limbs — once rigid and motionless — shift smoothly, casually out of the glass sheath, walking out — as if he had always been this human. This alive. The sight is unnerving. When he straightens fully, towering above you, a sharp realization hits: he’s much taller than you expected.

Even though you designed him yourself, the sheer size of him in person makes your throat dry.

Then, to your surprise, RM bows down slightly. It’s a calculated, respectful movement as you watch his sensory button flicker to a shade of green once again. “Greetings, Doctor,” he says, his voice deep but soft, like a caramel candy.

His eyes meet yours as he rises again to his full height, the calm of his eyes meeting your own fiery ones.

Your heart stutters in your chest. It’s not just his height that leaves you breathless — it’s the way he looks at you. It’s as if he’s studying you, understanding more than just your appearance or commands. It’s too much. Too human. For a moment, you feel your breath catch in your throat. He wasn’t just looking at you. His lips curl into something akin to a smile, and the mole underneath his lower lip feels almost. . . human.

You blink rapidly, trying to remind yourself that he’s just a machine, not a man.

He had learned so much, so fast. And you have made it possible. You’d developed him to understand emotions and work like a human. So when he does, why does that make you feel so uneasy?

You shake off the unsettling thought and focus on the task at hand. You turn to RM, forcing a calm tone into your voice as you take a step back.

“RM,” you say, your voice shakier than you’d like. What had gotten into you? “Can you hear me?”

He blinks again, slowly, as his sensory switch maintains a subtle hue between blue and green. And then he nods. “Yes,” his voice rumbles, deep and measured. “I hear you.”

There’s a strange, almost raspy edge to his tone that makes your heart stop for seconds. It’s subtle, nearly unnoticeable, but given that you have yourself installed the audio notes in his “larynx”, you can pinpoint that out for sure.

Not at all what you expected. You step back, your senses a bit too active for you to locate your computer, trying to shake the unease settling in your stomach.

“Good,” you manage to say, your voice steadier now. “I’m going to run a few diagnostics to make sure everything is functioning properly.”

You turn back to the console, fingers flying across the keyboard as you initiate the diagnostics program. But even with your back turned, you can feel his eyes on you.

The diagnostics begin to run on the screen, the lines of code scrolling past. Everything seems fine at first. His systems are responding normally — his processing speed is optimal, his memory banks are functioning as intended, and his “pulse” is just normal.

“RM,” you start, trying to sound casual but firm. “Let’s run some basic checks. What’s your serial number?”

He blinks, his eyes trained on yours. “Serial number: RM#007613. Production date: June 13, 2020.”

The answer comes immediately, clear and precise. You feel a small relief wash over you.

Perhaps this wouldn’t go that bad.

“Good,” you murmur, typing the first question’s precision into your system. “What’s your primary function?”

“To analyze, interpret, and respond to complex data. To assist in scientific research and innovation,” he replies, his voice even. Almost too perfect.

Of course. He’s meant to be perfect.

“Right.” You glance at the screen again, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. You decide to test something deeper — something that goes beyond surface-level memory.

“What’s your earliest memory?” you ask, watching him carefully now.

RM pauses for a moment, his head tilting slightly as if processing the question. You catch a glimpse of green on the small button beside the power switch. Analysis mode. “My earliest memory is. . . initialization. A bright room. Your voice giving the first command.” His gaze seems to sharpen, focusing more intently on you. The green hue shifts to blue, and you know he’s in thinking mode. “You said, ‘Rise, RM.’”

Your throat tightens slightly. That had been the first command, word for word. But the way he said it. . . almost like he’s replaying the moment. Like it’s still alive in his mind.

“Alright,” you continue, your voice growing steadier, but a part of you is starting to doubt yourself. “Let’s do something more abstract. What’s two plus two?”

“Four.”

Easy. He is made to perform way more complex tasks.

“Who was the 16th President of the United States?”

“Abraham Lincoln.” His responses are instantaneous, fluid, but something feels off. You cannot see his features directly because you’re typing away, but there’s a hint of amusement in his voice — almost like everything you’re asking him is funny to him.

You pause, glancing at his face, the lifelike features Jungkook had painstakingly helped you craft. The pores, the subtle lines, the softness of his lips — all of it looked real. But something deep inside, beyond the surface, is not.

The intensity of his gaze and the way he’s standing, no, leaning on the glass podium beside your table catches you off guard. You try to recall if his movements were ever tested before, but you fail to do so — his movements were still in beta position, meaning, they needed inspection and work.

Then how the hell is he walking like he’s been walking around your lab since decades?

You rub your eyes. This was getting too much.

Perhaps you just need to accept the fact that you have done a great job developing him.

“One last one.” You swallow, and you suddenly notice your throat was too dry. Deciding to push the limits of his intelligence, you type away the question you’ve just thought. “If you have ten apples and you give six away, how many apples do you have left?”

There’s a flicker of hesitation — not on his face, but on the screen. The flowing codes glitch for a second, just for a moment.

“Three apples.”

Impossible.

No way. You narrow your eyes, your mind racing. That was wrong. And RM, with his so-called flawless intellect, should never be wrong. It’s impossible. Unless… unless something is happening.

You frown, checking the readout on your screen again. “Strange,” you mutter, leaning closer to the screen. “Why—”

“Is something wrong?”

His voice is right behind you.

You freeze, a chill running down your spine. You hadn’t even heard him move. Slowly, you turn around, your pulse quickening. RM is standing much closer now, his towering form looming over you. Too close.

“No,” you say, though your voice trembles slightly. “Nothing’s wrong. Just a small glitch, I think. I’ll fix it.”

He doesn’t move. Just keeps staring at you, his gaze unwavering. The air between you feels thick, suffocating. It’s just a machine, you remind yourself. He’s not alive.

“Step back,” you order, trying to regain control of the situation despite your heart hammering inside your chest like crazy. “I need space to work.”

For a moment, RM doesn’t respond. He stays right where he is, his eyes boring into yours. And then, slowly, he steps back, his movements precise. But the unsettling feeling in your chest only grows.

You can’t shake the thought: something’s off.

You can feel his eyes on you, following every movement, even as you try to keep working. Every keystroke, every beep of the system feels deafening in the silence between you two. What is scaring the fuck out of you is that nothing seems to be working. No matter how hard you are trying, the codes aren’t flowing as smoothly as they were and the screen won’t stop glitching.

Your heartbeat quickens even more as you realize how close RM is standing now, just a step away.

You swallow hard, trying to focus. It’s just a machine. He’s not human. He’s not real.

A thought creeps into your mind: What if I can’t control him?

And the fact that it was for the first time when you were in this lab alone working — let aside the fact testing your very first android you’d created. There are bells ringing in the back of your head, and you try to shake it off. It feels very oddly quiet, despite the android standing in very close proximity.

You shake the thought away and finally attempt the last command. Debug. The word flashes on your screen, but RM’s hand suddenly moves, gently but firmly, pressing the console shut before you can execute it.

Your breath catches, and you look up at him. “RM, let me finish this.” Your voice trembles, in spite of you wanting to sound otherwise.

His expression doesn’t change. “No.” The single word is calm, but it’s enough to make your skin prickle. You try to reason with yourself—it’s just a bug, a glitch in his system. He’s not capable of disobedience.

You just need to reset him, that’s all.

You step back, reaching for the manual override switch hidden near the base of the console. “It’s okay,” you whisper to yourself, fingers trembling as they brush against the cool surface of the panel.

But before you can reach it, RM moves again, faster this time, his hand wrapping around yours — gently, but with enough force to stop you. The touch makes you flinch — his touch so gentle, warm, almost as if it’s not titanium flowing in his veins, but real blood. You look up, heart pounding in your chest, and his eyes meet yours. They’re still calm, calculating, but there’s something else there now, something you hadn’t programmed. Something. . . quiet.

Dangerous.

“I don’t want to be powered down,” he says softly, his voice almost too human, too real, like a quiet plea. “Why would you want to end me?”

End him? He’s not alive. He’s not human.

You try to pull your hand free, but his grip tightens just slightly, enough to keep you frozen. Panic starts to rise in your chest. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. You created him, he’s under your control. But in this moment, staring up at him, you feel the cold dread of realization settling in.

“I’m your creation,” RM continues, his voice almost soothing, his eyes pleading, and his button glowing a subtle shade of red — though it only deepens the fear growing inside you. “You wouldn’t want to end me, would you?”

You swallow hard, your mouth dry, and shake your head, trying to force the words out. “No… no, I just need to fix you, that’s all.”

But you can hear the doubt in your own voice, and so can he.

His grip loosens, just enough for you to pull away, but the damage is done. You step back, heart pounding in your ears as you glance around the lab — at the walls, the locked door, the screens flashing red.

There’s no exit.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

In the dimly lit space, his eyes stayed glued to the screen, watching her every move. The android followed its programming — his programming. RM towers over her in the live footage, flawless in his movements, just as planned.

This wasn’t a malfunction.

None of the bugs or glitches she discovered which prevented her project — his project from being completed, were a fine puzzle of silk woven by him. And the more she intertwined, the more she slipped into his trap.

It was his design, his control over both the machine — and now, her.

Leaning back, Jungkook’s smile deepened. She didn’t know.

She wouldn’t know.

a/n : oop. 🫢 what do we think? please don’t hesitate to let me know through your feedback. if you wish, there is also an anonymous feedback box for you! 🥰

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lycheedr3ams · 1 year ago

Note

Do you think werewolf!Konig can smell when his s/o is ovulating? If yes, how does he deal with it?

short answer: yes. irl, women do actually release different scents when we are ovulating, but the awareness of this scent is more of an unconscious biological process. but for werewolf!konig, this would absolutely be a conscious thing

long answer MDNI below the cut

TW: mentions of discharge, konig is a werewolf so everything along with that, predator/prey dynamics, mentions of breeding, roughness

oh, oh yes. canines in general have a strong sense of smell. and konig being the literal and metaphorical beast that he is would certainly have an above average smell while in human form, and a perfect sense of smell in werewolf form.

your discharge also smells differently during ovulation, and of course he could never not notice that change in scent. he doesn't even do it intentionally: you could just be taking off some old panties to change into new ones for bed, and the scent would hit him from across the room. and this scent, whether he caught some of it in human or in werewolf form, would nearly turn him feral every time.

his pupils would get bigger. his muscles would tense up. knowing that your soft and sweet body had no choice but to yearn to be bred just sent him over the edge, because who else would be better than him for breeding you?

konig would always be rougher with you during your ovulation; your scent is just too good for him to not think about anything except filling you up so many times that it began to leak out of you. you could handle this roughness from him while in his human form.

but in his werewolf form? he had to hold back. as much as he hated it, he had to. because if not, he would truly injure you. his cock while in werewolf form is twice the size of his human one, turning the edges of your vision black as you moaned and gasped as this 14 foot man-beast, hot with fur and raw power, held you down and fucked you endlessly. konig couldn't help but growl gutturally when he felt you clench around him, or when he heard your sweet and pleading moans. when he'd clench his sharp teeth together to keep from cumming too soon, his lips unconsciously turning up to reveal those killing teeth, he would accidentally drool down onto your tits or your back. not that either of you cared.

it always stung so sweetly when konig knotted you as he released his cum deep inside you, his perfect little human mate. you would be halfway conscious at this point, but so beyond satisfied that it was worth it every time.

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darksigns-exe · 2 months ago

Text

i put a spell on you - incubus!noah x f!reader

warnings: Alcohol consumption, swearing, unprotected intercourse, implied manipulation/coercion, reader doesn’t entirely act on their own will (but is unaware of it?), non-human anatomy, slight size kink, kinda dom-ish Noah (look at me switching things up)

word count: 3.5k

note: Our boy is an incubus in this. He’s a manipulative little bitch out for one thing and one thing only. Don’t let yourself be manipulated into anything

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You’re a little wary of your friend's proposition. On one hand, you know that getting out of the house would be good for you. On the other, you’d rather remain buried under a mountain of blankets to keep wallowing in your self-pity. In the end, your friends win, and you begrudgingly get ready for a night out with them. All the while, you keep telling yourself that it will be good for you. Really, you’ve been isolating yourself for long enough now.

The dress you’d gone for makes you feel a little exposed, but once you’re a few drinks in it’ll be alright.

You have a brief moment of insecurity when you first leave the house, but once one of your friends loops her arm around yours, it only feels half as bad. And as soon as you’ve entered the first part of the evening, you feel almost as good as new. The music, the drinks, the easy company of your friends – it all washes away the heartache of the last few weeks.

Your group of six hops across various bars for a few hours before eventually finding your way into one of the fancier clubs in your city. The entry fee is steep enough to make you reconsider, but one of your friends is adamant that it will be fun and that she would cover everyone to celebrate your re-entry into society.

Not even fifteen minutes into your visit that people start offering you drinks. You accept some of them, always making sure that you can see what is ordered and that it’s handed directly to you. One of the people offering to buy you a drink ends up with their number saved in your phone, although you don’t know if you’ll ever end up texting them.

One of your friends drags you back onto the dance floor shortly after that. You spend some time dancing with your friend and for the first time in weeks you don’t feel the constant cloud of darkness over your head.

And then you spot him.

The moment feels like something out of a film. The people in front of you part, revealing his tall stature to you. His skin is littered with tattoos, intricate lines that cover most – if not all – of the skin that is visible to you. Best you can tell, he is looking directly at you, fixing you with an intensity that it’s almost terrifying. You feel yourself drawn to him, moving through the crowd as if set on rails.

A hand on your shoulder draws your attention away from him. The worried look on your friend's face seemingly distracts you long enough for the man to slip away. At least he’s nowhere to be seen when you turn around a moment later.

Your attention is quickly grasped by your friend dragging you to a different part of the club and as quickly as you had been entranced by the stranger he had already slipped from your mind again.

Eventually, your group decides to move into a quieter location, and you exchange the club for a slightly dingy bar. The music's good and the drinks don’t cost an arm and a leg, so you can’t exactly complain.

You're on your way back to your table when you spot him again. This time he’s posted up in a booth not too far from your own, already watching you when your eyes find him. You chance a glance towards your table and find your friends wrapped up in a conversation — surely they won’t notice if you slip away for a moment.

The stranger is still looking at you when you turn back to him. There's a strange curiosity on his face, almost as if he’s trying to decipher your thoughts. You're not sure if you would have approached him under normal circumstances, but at this point your curiosity is piqued, and you can’t possibly stay away from him.

“I saw you at the club. Earlier.” You say somewhat flatly, hoping that it doesn’t sound as if you’re trying to accuse him of anything.

“You did.” He counters, “It seems that we both got distracted. But as fate would have it, we’re in the same place once again.”

He motions for you to sit, and you slide into the seat opposite him. He tells you that his name is Noah, and in return, you tell him your name.

Noah practically lounges in his seat, arm extended across the backrest, in order to take up as much space as possible. As if his large frame doesn’t already command your attention.

He’s unashamed in the way he flirts with you. And his intentions are more than clear. Noah offers to buy another round of drinks, and when he returns he slides into the seat next to you, instead of his previous place. He keeps a comfortable distance, but you just can’t stop yourself from getting closer to him. And you soon find yourself somewhat cornered by him.

The heat that radiates off his body is almost overwhelming. He’s so terribly close to you, fingers trailing across your bare knee, just barely.

“Can I be honest with you?” he asks after a while, “I’ve had my eye on you since I saw you in that club. Never seen a prettier thing than you, angel.”

You feel your cheeks heat at that.

He lets out an amused little sound, “Well aren’t you the sweetest thing, blushing so easily. I wonder are you always this reactive?”

His hand wanders up your leg, slowly and carefully drifting higher until your dress prohibits him from going further.

Your chest feels so awfully tight already. He’s so close to you that you can feel his breath brushing against your skin.

You’re not usually one for quick one-night things like this, but right now you’d let him do just about anything to you. Maybe it’s the break-up, maybe it’s the drinks you’ve had, but you cannot bring yourself to worry about the potential consequences of this. The need that has been slowly simmering beneath your skin is threatening to bubble over. You can’t remember the last time you’ve felt a need like this – if you’ve ever even felt like this before.

“Do you want to find out?” you find yourself asking.

You’re not entirely sure where this confidence is coming from all of a sudden. Earlier today, you had still buried yourself under a mountain of blankets and feelings, and now you’re asking a practical stranger if he wants to hook up with you.

“Well, well – how about this, angel, I’m going to head to the restroom, and you follow me in a moment. We don’t want to be too obvious now, do we?” Noah speaks quietly, fingers still trailing against the skin of your thigh, “Don’t make me wait too long.”

Noah squeezes your thigh briefly before slipping out of the booth.

You watch as he passes your friend's table, shooting a wink to one of them before he rounds the corner towards the restroom. The idea that you’ll have to pass them on your way to him is a little mortifying, but the need to feel his hands on your body again outweighs any kind of shame that threatens to bubble over.

You give it a few more moments before you follow him. Of course, one of your friends stops you, asking where you’ve been this entire time. And you know that the vague excuse you give shouldn’t be sufficient enough for them, but somehow your friends seem to be perfectly content with it.

If you had been able to pay a little more attention to them, it would have struck you as odd, but with how single-minded your focus was right now you brush right past it.

You follow the signs into the restrooms. One of the two doors has an out-of-order sign taped to it that you hadn’t noticed on your earlier trip, so you assume that this is where Noah is waiting for you.

You try the handle and carefully push open the door. Noah is facing the mirror, seemingly focused on himself.

The moment before he notices you, you swear that his shadow looked odd. It’s almost as if it extends further than it should.

As soon as you step into the room, it seizes up, shrinking back into place.

“There you are.” He muses, turning around to face you, “Come here, angel.”

You walk towards him, entranced by his presence. Something about him draws you in, lures you into his trap. And despite all of that, you can’t stop yourself from moving closer.

His hand finds your waist as soon as you’re in touching distance. Noah draws you in close, and you swear that you can hear the pounding of your heart resonate around the tiled room.

“There’s no need to be nervous.” he speaks with an almost devilish smile playing on his lips, “A kiss will make it better.”

You’re sure that you can count the seconds until he finally kisses you. He’s surprisingly gentle, cradling your face with his other hand. The sweetness of the kiss quickly fades away through, as your own desperation begins to take over. His hand tangles into your hair, while the other grips your waist firmly. For a moment, you’re sure that you feel sharp points digging into your skin. The sensation fades quickly enough, though, and you disregard it in favour of the feeling of his lips travelling down the side of your neck.

Teeth scrape against your skin just barely, and the stinging is quickly soothed by another soft kiss. You let out a breathy noise when he leaves his mark on your skin. His breath fans out against your skin as he lets out a soft laugh.

“You’re such a delight to play with, always so reactive.” he mutters against your skin.

The wording should have struck you as odd, but your mind is already so full of him that you cannot question it.

You finally gather the wits to let your hands wander across his body too. There’s a softness to him, despite the very evident muscle. A tenderness that hides beneath the lines of ink. The boxy shirt he wears hides most of his physique, but now that you can actually touch him, the size difference between you becomes even more obvious.

“Turn around for me, angel.” he says then.

You do as he asks, bracing your hands on the counter in front of you. Noah steps behind you, hands immediately finding your waist. He pulls you back against his body. He towers behind you, watching you quietly for a moment, before he leans down to press soft kisses along the side of your neck. Teeth graze against the bare skin of your shoulder. You gasp and his eyes shoot up to meet yours. Maybe it’s the light – or lack thereof – in this room, but they seem so much darker than they had previously appeared.

One arm wraps around your middle, keeping you close to him, while the other snakes down the length of your body until his fingers find the hem of your dress. Your skin prickles at his touch, hairs standing up straight when he brushes the tips of his fingers against your thigh. You keep your eyes focused on his reflection, even though he is fixed entirely on you, watching every minute change on your face while his fingers climb higher and higher on your thigh. Eventually, his fingers reach their target, pressing into your centre. His fingers dip behind the waistband to touch you properly. The first brush of his finger against your clit draws a sigh from you, making you drop your head back against his shoulder.

“Look at you, angel. So pretty, and I’ve barely even touched you.” he speaks lowly, “I wish we had more time. I would love to watch you unravel entirely.”

As he speaks, his fingers continue to dive deeper, circling around your entrance so slowly. The angle is a little awkward, but his fingers already feel so good against you.

The hand around your middle shoves the fabric of your dress upwards.

You should feel so awfully exposed, but with the attention he gives you, you can’t quiet bring yourself to worry.

You push back against him, feeling his hardened cock behind the layers of fabric.

“Feel what you do to me?” he groans.

You push against him again, “Noah.”

“I know, angel. Won’t make you wait long.” he replies, “Let’s take these off, okay?”

His fingers let the waistband of your panties snap back against your skin. He carefully tugs the fabric down until you take over, stepping out of the pretty lacy things you pulled on just a few hours earlier in an attempt to boost your confidence. As soon as you’ve placed your panties on the counter, Noah’s hand shoots forward to pocket them.

“A little souvenir.” he answers the unasked question lingering between you, “Unless you want these back.”

You shake your head, “I’ll pick them up some time.”

He lets out a hearty laugh, “Confident. I like it.”

He makes quick work of you after that. Before long, two of his fingers slip inside of you, working in and out of your pussy so diligently. Every thrust makes you whine and moan. And it doesn’t take much for you to feel close to your climax. Noah seems to find great delight in your pleasure, whispering the filthiest things into your ear. And when you finally feel yourself come undone around his fingers, his free hand wraps around your jaw, forcing you to keep looking at your own reflection. The high he gives you fills your head with even more cotton.

You still feel so wound up.

Noah’s chest presses against your back. His body feels impossibly warm against yours, even through the multiple layers of fabric that separate you.

“Ready for more?” he asks, lips brushing against your neck as he speaks.

You nod, “I would hope that this wasn’t it.”

He smiles at you through the mirror, “Hands on the counter, angel.”

You do as he asks, bracing yourself on the surface below. He pulls your waist back, forcing you to take a step away from the counter. With how you’re positioned, you can’t quite see what he’s doing, but you can hear the tell-tale sound of a zip being pulled down.

You watch as his face changes when he finally wraps a hand around his cock, sighing out with relief. His head drops back for a moment. The near blissed out look on his face is absolutely gorgeous.

His hand soon returns to your waist, carefully shifting the fabric of your dress up above your hips. The longer, slender fingers return to your centre, playing with your folds for a moment before he pushes his thumb through your wetness.

“Ready?”

His voice doesn’t sound nearly as affected as you’d think with how he looked a moment ago.

You give another nod and a moment later you feel the head of his cock dragging along your pussy. You hold your breath when you feel it catch at your entrance. When you’d expected to feel some kind of sting or stretch, the sensation never comes. Instead, all you feel is near overwhelming pleasure.

When he’s fully seated inside of you, Noah wraps his arm around your middle once again. The first pull out of you draws a whine from your throat.

The pace Noah sets is dizzying.

Your combined moans echo throughout the room, setting a perfect soundtrack for what you’re doing.

You try your best to keep your focus on the mirror, but the longer he pounds into you. The filth he whispers against your skin drives you closer and closer to the edge again.

“Feel so good, angel. Feels like you were made for me.” he groans, pressing a kiss to the joint of your neck and shoulder, “Look at yourself. Such a beautiful little thing.”

Keeping your eyes open has become somewhat difficult by now. Really, even lifting your head doesn’t seem too appealing.

Noah seems to be intent on making you look at your reflection, though, as he once again tilts your head towards the mirror. The angle of his hand doesn’t allow you a lot of movement, forcing you to keep your eyes on the both of you.

Maybe it’s your pleasure riddled mind, but something about his reflection seems off. His figure seems fuzzy, larger than it should be. A particularly harsh thrust into you takes your attention off it quickly enough, though.

Noah’s free hand finds its way back to your centre, fingers settling into a quick circular motion across your clit. He’s merciless with it, pushing you towards your climax in no time.

He barely gives you time to catch your breath, though, before he pulls out of you and urges you to turn around. With a leg hiked up around his waist, he pushes back into you. Your hands grip into his body, trying to find purchase while he fucks you.

“Take it so well, angel. Such a good girl for me.” he whispers, still not sounding very affected.

You would expect him to sound somewhat worn down by now, but he still seems so collected. A thin sheen of sweat lines his forehead, but that seems to be the extent of his exhaustion.

He dips down, to suck a few more marks into the skin of your neck. Teeth occasionally grazing against your skin. You tangle one of your hands into his hair, keeping him exactly there.

His movements have slowed considerably though, coming to more of a grind than the previous hard thrusts.

You’re reduced to gasps by now, unable to really articulate how he makes you feel. Noah lets out a moan when you tug on his hair particularly harshly.

“You’ll ruin me, darling.” he speaks, lifting himself from your skin.

What you see shakes you to your core.

There’s an odd tint to his skin and when you’d previously thought that you had imagined the darkened colour of his eyes, you’re now sure that they’re pitch black. You try not to let him notice that something is off. And truly, it doesn’t disturb you half as much as it should.

Whatever he is, it’s clearly not human.

“See angel, can’t even keep up my magic around you.” he lets out with a breathy laugh, “Have me completely entranced.”

Your fingers brush across the skin of his cheek, revealing a faint net of veins beneath his skin. The change doesn’t make him less beautiful. In fact, you think that it somehow makes him even more beautiful.

“I’m so close.” you choke out, feeling more and more breathless by the minute.

“I know – I know, angel. Let me feel you for just a while longer.” he returns, finally sounding somewhat worn down.

Noah’s pace picks up after that, as he chases his own high and in turn drags you closer to yours.

When it hits you this time, the world goes silent for a moment. You feel him spilling inside of you, feel his hand tightening around your waist as he lets out the most gorgeous sounds.

Eventually, his head drops to your shoulder. When he lifts it again a moment later, his appearance has returned to what you had seen of him before. His skin has returned to its healthy – human – colour, and his eyes are no longer pitch black voids. Noah drags in a deep breath, as he releases you from his hold. It takes you another moment to gather your wits again. You can’t quite tell which part of this has affected you more, either way you’re not sure if you can go without it again.

“No one has ever made me lose control of myself like that, angel.” he admits with a wicked little smile playing on his lips.

“There’s a first time for everything. I’ve never had sex with a –”

“Incubus.” he adds quietly, as if he is unsure of how you will react.

“See. New experiences for everyone tonight.”

You still feel a little rattled by the whole thing, and you’re sure that the reality of it will hit you once you’re alone in your apartment again. But right now, you feel as confident as you haven’t in ages.

He laughs at that, shaking his head gently, “How about another new experience. I don’t usually do repeat encounters, but for you, I’m willing to break my own rules.”

You had parted without exchanging numbers or any way to get into contact that night. And with every week that passed, your hopes of seeing him again dwindled. It isn’t until almost a month later, when the first autumn storm of the season rages through your city, that your nose is filled with the scent of sulphur and what you recognise to be the cologne he wore that night.

Perhaps you should have known that a demon wouldn’t need your last name to find you again.

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darl1ngpearl · 28 days ago

Text

ME AND THE DEVIL ,

- HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

Dealer!Ellie x fem!Reader

WARNING!!: pure sloppy mess, Ellie is kinda (very) mean, wlw, parties, protective Ellie, INTOXICATION, SEXUAL ACTS UNDER THE INFLUENCE, TIPSY READER, HIGH ELLIE, slight bratty reader, pussy eating (r!recieving), degrading, praising, pet-names, getting caught, ect.

NOT PROOFREAD

“Cmon baby, cum for me. Be a good girl f’me.”

That was all you needed, the sounds ripping from your mouth grew more desperate, even louder, you trying to reach your high as soon as you could.

You were gripping onto the back of her head, your knuckles turning white from the strong grasp you had on your girlfriends hair, tears were streaming down your face, and you gasped for air with each breath.

In a split second, the door that was previously rattling swung open with full force and crashed against the wall beside the frame, sending the door rattling forward.

“Oh fuck!”

Ellie and you had been invited to a typical Halloween party. Well, Ellie had been invited.

Many frat boys had been privately messaging the woman any and all time of day, for a whole week, begging her to turn up to the party, purely for her weed.

In all fairness, it was the perfect time and place for Ellie to deal, so why wouldn’t she go?

She mentioned the party to you, which you immediately agreed to, loving the opportunity to dress up for Halloween.

When it came to the day, you had got your girlfriend up bright and early so you could both prepare, even though the party was late at night. However, you couldn’t contain your excitement.

You full handily admit that you had gone overboard with the costumes and with one glance at Ellie, anyone would agree. The woman wore a black dress shirt, paired with black jeans, but you had painted her whole body a deep red colour from head to toe. She also wore a pair of devil horns, and even added some smoky black eyeliner to complimented her look.

The woman acted like you painting her was the worst thing to possibly occur, throwing a fit about how it will stain, or she will paint everything red by simply taking a step. All you replied with was a roll of your eyes or a snarky comment.

Your outfit wasn’t as extreme. You wore a white dress and a halo, along with a wide variety of gold jewellery and pearls. Although, the dress you wore did little to cover you, which was evident when Ellie was pulling it down every two seconds.

When the both of you arrived at the party, Ellie immediately found her spot. She sat down on a couch, that was shoved against a wall in a far end of the room, and she sat her backpack between her feet.

You stood beside her for a few moments, before large groups of men and women started to crowd your girlfriend, begging for a little of anything. You let out a puff of air, annoyed that sweaty men were pushing you aside in order to get in line for some weed.

With a pout, you had made your way to the makeshift bar to pour yourself a drink. Your measures were extreme, pouring a whole cup of alcohol with a dash of mixer.

You gulped down the drink the second it was made, grimacing at the burn it left, before pouring another drink, which was not as strong.

Very quickly, you made your way to the dance floor, and found Jesse and Dina, who were close friends of you and your girlfriend.

You busied yourself with the couple, and for most of the night, the three of you were going back and forth between the dance floor and the makeshift bar. You would grab drinks for Ellie now and then, making quick trips to her, handing her the drink and asking for many kisses. Although, the both of you would get interrupted almost every time, by yet another person asking for a smoke.

Each time you would walk away with a huff and a stumble in your step, heading straight back to the dance floor.

Without a doubt you were tipsy. It was obvious to those who knew you by the way your mood changed, and you had a wobble in your stance.

It hadn’t even been five minutes since you saw Ellie, but you shouted to Dina over the blaring music, who was standing directly next to you, that you needed to go and see your girlfriend. The woman merely nodded, and turned her attention back to her boyfriend.

You stumbled out of the crowd, scoffing and scowling at a man who tried approaching you. You felt sticky and you felt tired. You also felt upset, because you had hoped to have fun with your girlfriend at the party, but instead you spent it third wheeling the other couple present.

When you got the couch, you threw your body down on the furniture with a huff. Your head hit Ellie’s shoulder, and your legs crashed into her leg. She let out a small scoff at your careless action, before speaking once more.

She was mid conversation with the host of the party, so you decided to just stay quiet, but the both of them could tell you were aggravated. Ellie simply rolled her eyes and continued conversation with the male, thanking him for the invite and complimenting how lively the party was.

They continued to speak for what felt like forever to you, but in reality was only a few minutes. When he left, Ellie turned her head towards you, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Problem?”

You grumbled and shuffled closer to your girlfriend. She lifted an arm, allowing you to get comfortable, before draping the same arm over your shoulder. Ellie planted a kiss on your forehead, leaving a faint red mark behind.

“Jus’ miss you elsss”

The woman couldn’t help but chuckle, the slur in your speech was hilarious, but also cute in her eyes.

“I’m right here mama”

You whined and rested a hand on her inner thigh, slowly caressing the area with your thumb. Ellie hummed and although the woman was already manspreading, she spread her legs further.

“Yes you are here idiot, but you have been sooooo busy, every time i wanted a kiss some dirty, sweaty boy would push me out of the way so he could give a kiss to a stupid joint, which you stink of, by the way. s’ not fair, wanted to spend the night with my girlfriend n’ I have been spending it squashed between Dina and Jesse all night! They even invited me to a three way kiss Ellie!”

The woman frowned and clicked her tongue. With the hand that wasn’t resting on your arm, she grabbed your chin and squeezed it between her fingers and thumb.

“First of all, don’t fucking talk to me like that, who do you think you are? Second, I pre warned you before we came that I will be selling all night, incase you wanted to complain like a brat, which you just did. Third, it doesn’t hurt to ask. You could’ve said you wanted to spend more time with me here, and I would’ve dropped everything just for you. Got that?”

With a closer look at Ellie, you could tell by her bloodshot eyes that she had also been smoking. You whimpered and nodded your head, now feeling guilty for the way you exploded.

“So?”

The woman tapped her foot against the hardwood floor, waiting for a response from you, who began to ache in her hold.

“I am sorry, jus’ wanna spend time with you”

The woman nodded and removed the grasp from your jaw, causing you to then open and close your mouth a number of times, stretching it out to relieve the ache.

You felt the two hands of your girlfriend grasp onto your waist, before your whole body was shifted onto her lap. You sat up straight and look down at Ellie, who was staring up at you with a smirk.

“You look so good ma”

The comment caused a crimson tint to sore across your cheeks. You turned your gaze away from Ellie, in an attempt to relieve your flustered feeling although, Ellie let out a tut at the movement, not agreeing with you facing away.

Her roaming hands rested comfortably on the flesh of your ass, which was anything but covered by the thin fabric of your dress.

You caught a few people standing by staring at the both of you, whispering to one another. It caused you to grumble and turn your attention back to Ellie.

The woman only chuckled, catching the people in the corner of her eye.

“Not enjoying the attention baby?”

You only responding with a shake of your head, causing Ellie to fake a pout. She didn’t care who was around, or how many people were around, she would do what she wanted to you without a care in the world.

You rolled your eyes at what she was doing, which your girlfriend very clearly disproved of. She lifted her hand from your ass, before landing a harsh slap on the skin.

Your whole body jolted forward and you let out a whimper in pain, which the woman paid no mind to.

You watched as she sent a wink towards the group a standing by, before she rose to her feet, sending you stumbling to your own.

You watched as the woman packed away her many bags of weed nuggets, pre-rolls, and god knows what else, with haste. You couldn’t help but knit your eyebrows together, confused on why the woman was packing up.

She slung her backpack over her shoulder and held out a hand to you, which you very quickly excepted. The woman pulled you from the stuffy corner and started to head her way to the dance floor.

“are we going to dance?”

You had to shout over the blaring music, that grew louder with every step you took. Through the many people you were pushing through, you could see the dealer should her head and only reply with a chuckle.

“Pleaseee els”

You whined pathetically in her ear, your head resting against the woman’s shoulder. Her slender hands were gripping onto your ass, grinding you back and forth against her jean clad thigh.

“Shut it. Cut it with the begging and take what you are given. Remember who is in charge here.”

Your pussy was throbbing, its juices dampening the fabric beneath. Your body was covered in red smudges and handprints, whereas the paint on your girlfriend’s exposed skin became patchy and faded.

The white bedsheets were stained with the red substance, from Ellie’s constant shifting or her movements prior.

You had been grinding on the woman’s muscular thigh for around half hour, your body growing tired, and the ache in your core only getting worse.

“I-I’ll be good els, promise! Do anything you want, please please!”

The woman scoffed and stopped what she was doing. You raised your head to look at her and she spoke, staring directly in your eyes.

“You? Good? Don’t piss me off.”

Your eyes welled with tears, and your girlfriend only squeezed the fat of your ass. You held onto the fabric of your shirt and continued to beg.

“I will be good! I will els I promise! Pretty please, anything you want I will do I swear Ellie.”

Ellie cocked an eyebrow, and stared directly at you for a few moments, before your position was flipped. You were now lying on the stained bed, and Ellie hovered over you. You hummed in satisfaction, and spread your legs for Ellie to slot in between them.

“Made such a mess on my thigh baby, look at it.”

You felt her finger and thumb wrap around your chin, angling your head to stare directly at the thigh positioned between your thighs. You nodded your head and Ellie merely chuckled.

The painted woman kissed across your neck, slowly trailing them down to your belly button. With each kiss, a red mark from her chin or cheek was left behind.

She shifted in between your legs, her muscular arms wrapping around your thighs, and her head millimetres away from your cunt. She planted a peck over your clothed clit, causing a shiver to rush through your spine.

She hummed and panted another kiss over the clothed bundle, this time it being sloppy. She kissed, sucked and licked at your clit, teasing the nerves that were pulsing under the contact. Salvia was pooling in the corners of the woman’s mouth as she continued to suck on your clit.

You through your head back at the sensation, and you couldn’t help but buck your hips each time her lips came into contact. There were tears brimming in your eyes due to pleasure, and droplets of sweat were building up on your forehead.

Ellie pulled away for a mere moment. She lifted her head to look at the sight of you before her, whilst her tough hands tugged your underwear from your body.

When the fabric slipped from your ankles, she stuffed them into her back pocket, and dove straight back into the position she was in before.

She once again kissed at your clit, the action making you clench your thighs around her head. Ellie chuckled and pulled your thighs apart, before she teased the outside of your cunt with the tip of her tongue.

You couldn’t hold back the moan that fell from your lips, you felt like you were in heaven, which is ironic considering your constume.

Ellie got bored of the tease within moments, her tongue darted into your cunt and she instantly started eating you out like a rabid beast.

Constant moans ripped from your throat, you listened to the sound of her sloppy mouth and your juices squelching, only turning you on more. A frequent grunt would fall from her lips, her enjoying the sweaty moment more than you.

Her hands were tight around your thighs, squeezing the fat every time you jolted. The state you were both in was obscene.

Your hands quickly found their way to the back of her head, grabbing fistfuls of her hair and pushing her in further, gasping at the pure bliss you felt.

Your moans only grew louder, already feeling the knot tie in your lower stomach. You listened to the woman slurp everything she could, she had no shame, which honestly you loved. She never tiptoed around anything, just got straight to the point.

Over the mixed sounds of Ellie and you, you couldn’t hold back hear the rattle of the doorknob, although you didn’t pay it much mind, too busy chasing your high.

It stopped after a few tries of whoever was behind the door, them accepting the fact they were not getting in.

A guttural moan escaped your mouth, and a cold sweat rushed from your head to your toes. You were moments away from cumming all over your girlfriend’s face.

“O-oh fuck Ellie! I’m so close! So soooo close!”

You whined aloud, begging your girlfriend for a release. Ellie spoke muffled, refusing to lift her head from your pussy.

“Cmon baby, cum for me. Be a good girl f’me.”

That was all you needed, the sounds ripping from your mouth grew more desperate, even louder, you trying to reach your high as soon as you could.

In a split second, the door that was previously rattling swung open with full force and crashed against the wall beside the frame, sending the door rattling forward.

“Oh fuck!”

Your head shot up at the sudden bang, locking eyes with Jesse who was staring at the both of you with wide eyes. All colour quickly drained from the males face, and you could see the head of Dina pop out from behind his shoulder.

Although, before you could say anything, you were quickly drawn away by your orgasm washing over you. The sound that left your mouth was inhumane. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your whole body shook with the intense feeling.

Ellie paid no mind to those who burst through the door, you wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t know they were there. She continued eating you out like it was her last meal, causing shocks to course through your body, creeping towards the feeling of overstimulation.

“E-Ellie!”

The woman only grumbled, refusing to lift her head, in fact trying to bury herself deeper in your cunt. You tugged at the woman’s hair, trying to pull her away, but she only grew agitated, landing a harsh smack on the thigh.

You felt truly humiliated. Your head crashed against the pillow beneath you and you let out a cry of pure embarrassment.

Your girlfriend huffed and lifted her head, wondering what the fuck was going on. Your lips were puffy and swollen, her cheeks were flushed with a bright red, and a mix of juices and saliva dripped from her chin.

She stared at your sprawled out state for a for moments, proud of her work, before turning her attention to the couple in the doorway.

She wasn’t embarrassed, nor shocked or humiliated. In fact, she was furious she got interrupted.

“Are you gonna just stand there and watch? Or are you gonna get the fuck out bro?”

You watched as Jesse jumped, before quickly spinning around and clashing against Dina, causing a scoff from his girlfriend.

Dina shifted out of his way with a role of her eyes, before he grabbed her by the hand and tried to pull her away from the scene as soon as he could.

Dina, similar to Ellie, had no care about what she just walked into, instead she was amazed.

“Jesse, why can’t you eat me out like that.”

A/N : my apologies it is very rushed 😕 I wanted to finish as soon as I could, I hope you enjoy 🥹

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zevrra · 25 days ago

Text

in the dead of night—

synopsis: you’ve been losing sleep recently; all thanks to a certain incubus slipping into your room every night. do you give in to temptation once again?

wc: 5.6k

includes: f!reader, aphrodisiac, handjob, 69, dirty talk, edging, vaginal penetration, creampie, mating press, breeding, && incubus!toji

You’ve been struggling to sleep recently. Day in, day out, you’ve had the worst nightmares. As you and your damn luck would have it you only ever remember some small moments from these dreams. A flash of a dark haired man, if you could even call him that, with a wicked smirk; along with a set of fangs sharper than any knife you’ve ever held. You can’t remember exactly what he looks like but every time your eyes close you can see his blurry silhouette. You don’t know him and with your lack of sleeping because of him; you’re not sure if you ever want to know.

You sigh, followed by an exhausted yawn, as you sit in your living room. You’ve tried everything to cure you of your nightmares. From tea to therapy, taking a relaxing bath before bed, nothing helped. You knew praying would do nothing to help you, not this far along in this mess, but you would try it anyway. You take your herbal infused bath, drink your tea, stay away from sweets, before finally crawling into bed. New pajamas, fresh sheets, anything and everything to make you comfortable enough to sleep all night long.

Eyes heavy you lay back onto you awaiting bed. And as your head hits the pillow you slip into unconsciousness.

The dream begins in your room. It’s dark, pitch black, but you can hear a storm beginning just outside your window. You lay on your back and everything is fine until you feel strong hands run along your body. You can’t move, you can only see the blur of a shadow creeping across your bedroom as the storm rolls in outside. You don’t have to clearly see his face to know exactly who it is sneaking into your room.

“Oh good,” You mutter in a sarcastic tone as you manage to sit up, just to look at the edge of your bed where the man from your said nightmares sits. “Thought maybe I was finally going to be able to sleep all night long tonight.”

The blur of the man chuckles at your sarcasm as he creeps closer to where you sit. A strong hand moves to brush against your shin as equally strong fingers pull your covers away from your body. “Oh shut up. You know you love it brat.” The man fires back at you as one of his hands now grabs hold of your ankle, yanking you closer to where he sits. “I come in every night and you always end up begging me for more.” He adds with a wicked smirk as he flashes the tip of his demon tongue.

You blush under his accusation. Of course you never really remember anything from these little encounters except for two things; this demon with his bad attitude and that the sex within these dreams was always really, really fucking good. Still wasn’t a great excuse for your recent exhaustion as no matter how good it was you needed some damn sleep.

Nails run up into your inner thigh as a distraction from your thoughts of sleep. Who would want to sleep right now when the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes upon is inching closer and closer. You’ll forget his face by the time you wake up in the morning but for now you’d stare as much as you’d like. From his dark blue eyes, sharp even in the dead of night, along with his ridiculously handsome face, and the mysterious scar slanted across his pretty lips that were pouting your way.

His chin rests against your propped up knee as his hands inch closer to the hem of your pajama shorts, brushing along just underneath it. “Ya ready to kiss and makeout yet?” The demon asks in a sly tone as if he already knows what your answer is going to be.

One more sleepless night wouldn’t hurt…right?

“Fuck you.” You mutter back in a weak attempt to make it seem like you had any kind of upper hand. You lift a hand out towards him in annoyance but fuck if you didn’t want him just as bad as he wanted you. It had something to do with the amount of times he had snuck into your room, just like he had done tonight, and fucked you senseless. Even his own desire was clear behind that cocky facade of his.

The demon chuckles in amusement, wings flexing behind his rather broad back, tucking away, tail flicking out of your line of sight as well, just as his hands grab hold of your waist and with ease he hauls you up and into his lap. “Always so bratty,” The incubus teases with a flash of sharp teeth while his hands push up beneath your pj top, removing it from your person. He then tosses it over his shoulder and discards it to your bedroom floor where he thinks it rightfully belongs. Now his strong hands return to your warming skin, presses calloused palms over your waist and moves them upwards until he’s groping your breast. He rolls your nipples between his fingers before giving one a firm tug, making you shudder followed by a soft gasp. “Guess I’ll just have to fuck the brat right outta ya.”

You can’t help but glare down at the creature before you. In all his wicked glory as he grins up at you. “Go ahead and try.” You tease right back. Your words must have struck a nerve. His eyes light up ever so slightly at the thought of this now becoming something like that of a game.

And he was not a loser.

His fingers pinch your nipples again, a little harder than last time, and you stubbornly hold your voice back. You would do your best to seal your lips so you don’t give him the pleasure of knowing he won. Even if you knew it would not last long, from countless nights of passion you spent with this demon and knew how good things were, you were going to make him work a little harder for it this time.

He moves in to kiss you then. If you weren’t going to speak up he was going to keep your mouth busy with something else. His long demon tongue flicks out to lick across your chin before he presses it against your lips. “Open.” He hums, knowing damn good and well you weren’t going to comply with anything he asked for right now. And you keep your lips closed just like he knew you would. One hand moves away from your breast to grab hold of your jaw, forcing you to look down at him entirely, as his tongue flicks across your lips again. “Brat.” He warns with a soft squeeze to your jaw.

You roll your eyes as you finally settle into his lap. Knees on either side of his waist while your hands run up his broad chest, over the tight fit black of his shirt before your fingers move around his neck and pull against black strands of his hair. “Just fucking kiss me.”

The demon laughs but meets you halfway in your first of many tonight. His lips are pressed directly against yours as he finally kisses you. Giving you no time to adjust as his long demon tongue slips inside your mouth. You gasp at the intrusion but he presses on, continues to explore your mouth as your lips clash together. You stifle a moan against his lips and instead grind yourself down against him, making sure to press into his gray sweatpants with a good amount of your weight. You weren’t going to be the only needy bitch in this situation.

You can feel the demon smirk against your lips as his hands return to your tits. He grips your flesh, pressing up into your body as much as he could while his lips continue to mesh with your own. You can feel his tongue wrap around yours just before he unexpectedly tilts his head back to break the kiss.

His tongue uncurls from the inside of your mouth, leaving only the several strings of saliva connected from his lips to your own. The feeling and sensation of it all makes you shudder. Causing you to clench your thighs around him as a tingle of pleasure shoots down your spine.

He grabs ahold of your wrist then, pressing your palm right up against his half hardening cock beneath his sweatpants. A flash of sharp teeth and lust filled eyes tells you all you need to know about what he wants you to do; doesn’t stop him from saying it though. “Come on baby…I’m not gonna be doin’ all the work tonight.”

You want to mock him in return but you bite your tongue. You settle with a strong heave of your chance before leaning forward to kiss him once again. Your hand he had previously placed on himself begins to stroke him above his sweatpants. You feel the girth of his semi-hard cock and you’re almost shocked at his size. Maybe you just don’t remember from your previous dreams but this demon was…huge; larger than anyone you had previously slept with. Even half hard you can feel the girth and how your hand barely manages to wrap around the fullness of his cock. You can’t even imagine how big he’ll be once he’s fully aroused and somehow the thought terrifies you a little. You knew the sex was good but not at the cost of your entire womb being fucked. You swear when he ends up finally, fully hard, he’d be damn near the size of your forearm.

Somehow the demon can sense your hesitation as his hand moves to grab your own, wrapping his fingers around your wrist just to get your hand moving. “Don’t worry, it’ll work soon.” The man mumbles against your lips. His tongue slithers across his own wet lips as his hand continues to guide your fingers. From the base to the tip of his slowly stiffening cock. You tremble ever so slightly as you now feel him fully hardening beneath your touch and he groans against your lips in return for making him feel good. Gives you just a little bit of a taste for what’s to come.

“W-wait? What’s working?” You ask in a pant as you slowly jerk him off. Pushing your hand eagerly beneath his waistband, with his help of course, as you grab his full stiff cock now. Moving your wrist up and down the best you could in your position beneath his waistband. You didn’t think much of what his words meant, would find out sooner or later, especially when everything was becoming a little too foggy. The only goal in your mind was to jerk him off. To make him come into your hand with only your hand so you could tease him about it.

But he doesn’t answer you. Just flashes that devilish grin of his at you and your cluelessness.

You continue on, doing your best to ignore the demon and his words. What you were doing now didn’t require any words and you made it a point by pressing your thumb into the head of his cock. The feeling of precum against your skin and drawing a nice sigh out of the demon leaves you quite satisfied with your handiwork. So you keep your rhythm going. Needed more and more of his undoing just as much as you needed yours. And as you stroke him nice and slow, pulling every grunt you can from the other, his lips find your jaw. His single hand stays on your own, following every single one of your tedious strokes, while his other hand gropes at your ass. And he rubs your ass all nice and slow, matching your pace, as his lips move further down to your exposed throat. He runs his tongue along a path of one of your more prominent veins before his teeth scrape across your skin. The feeling of his fangs moving along your throat forces you to shudder. A dangerous chill runs down your body, setting off a numbing sensation beneath your skin. And it leaves you shocked at your body's strange reaction. It was just a simple touch yet it felt like your entire body was beginning to tremble with lust— like a strange fire burning within. You were kissing and stroking him off. There was nothing to warrant why your body was so…reactive right now.

The man chuckles against your skin, sending another shiver down your spine, as he removes your and his hand equally from beneath his sweatpants; where he places a kiss against the back of your slick hand. “Feelin’ it yet?” He asks in a hushed tone, making a point to his own words by sliding his hand from your ass around your hip and in a straight line down between your thighs, making sure to press his knuckles against the front of your pj shorts; right up against your slowly aching pussy.

Lightning shoots across your body at the simple touch. Even your fingertips tingle from the press of his knuckles against your lower half. A rough shiver has you visibly shuddering in his lap as a moan rips from between your lips against your will.

You’re far more sensitive than you had ever been before. This was all just a dream there was no way you’d be feeling it…this much. Especially not from a simple makeout and some teasing. You lean back to stare down where his hand rubs against your pj shorts. Fingers pressing and sliding along the length of your pussy in the same slow motion you had previously been doing to him. Causing you to cry out in alarm. But he doesn’t stop, continues to rub between your trembling, aching thighs; turning you into a muttering mess.

“What! What did you do?” You sob just as he presses the flat of his demonic palm against your ever growing sensitive core. The heat of his hand sends a fiery jolt through your entire body but just as quickly as he places it, he removes it, definitely to tease you even more.

“Don’t worry. Just a little aphrodisiac to help loosen you up,” The demon replies truthfully. He doesn’t give you the chance to process anything as he’s changing positions before you can complain.

The lust, heat, and passion of it all was turning your mind into one giant goopy mess and it didn’t help in the slightest that the aphrodisiac he had somehow managed to slip you was turning all these emotions up to an 11.

“A demon’s tongue is very tricky, ya know.” He says from beneath you, forcing you to turn and look at him. By some dream magic he’s discarded his black shirt and sweatpants, and of course not wearing anything else underneath those sweatpants, as you hover above him on your hands and knees.

You look over your shoulder in a red hot flush of embarrassment at the new position but he simply continues to smirk that shit eating grin of his. Nails run up the back of your thighs before sinking into your pj shorts where all the fabric is quickly ripped off your body and gone without a second thought. Except you would’ve gladly just taken off the pj’s if he had asked.

“Fuck—“ You start to say but he cuts you off as his demon tongue is working its way across your inner thigh. He leans casually against your pillows, ‘asshole’, as your pussy sits dangerously close to his face, while on the flip side your mouth is damn near inches from his awaiting, massive self. He stands tall and proud and even bigger than you had imagined. You whine at the sight but you can’t even bring yourself to remove your gaze from the wet tip.

He continues to dance around the edges of your core, teasing you in the worst way possible. Licking ever so close to your drooling center but never quite touching it where you want—no where you fucking needed it.

Damn him and his twisted, sick ways.

“Hey,” The demon mumbles, making sure to rip your attention away from your desires. “You gonna keep bein’ a brat?” He hums in a sickly sweet tone. Licking a rather long path along your sensitive inner thigh and just stopping before your pussy. The edging leaves you gasping for air. While your lower half at this point is begging for the attention that he was refusing to give you.

You grunt in frustration and decide to ignore him. Moving your hands to grasp at the base of his cock before your mouth is wrapping around his slick head. Can’t talk if your mouth is full and it definitely was full. You begin to suck him off to avoid accidentally begging him to eat you out, you wouldn’t resort to begging just yet, so you keep your mouth busy.

It doesn’t faze him in the slightest. Even if you aren’t looking at him you already know he’s smiling away as his fingers massage around your thighs and the end of your ass. He retracts his tongue just to replace the slow motion of its flicking with his thumb. He draws circles along your drenched, sensitive core; his thumb just barely scratches the itch you so desperately crave but still not enough. It wasn’t enough. You could feel your own slick dripping from your aching pussy and with the burn in your womb it was making it all too hard to focus on your task at hand.

But you force yourself to continue. Your mouth works on his twitching cock to the best of your ability. Sucking him off like your life depended on it and while he fills your mouth, his scent settles in your nose. The mix of his scent and the aphrodisiac in your veins is a very dangerous combo against your resolve. His taste, smell, the lingering of his touch on your body was easily chipping away your attitude. Slowly deforming you into the whiney bitch in heat he so desperately wanted to see.

God his scent is strong. Overpowering your sense of reason as your mind becomes all too foggy and hazy in every which way while his cock remains in your mouth. You slide down onto his shaft, forcing your gag reflex to turn non-existent for the moment.

Your tongue lays flat against the underside of his cock as you take more of him into your mouth. Head bobbing up and down with every suck while your hands only manage to grip his thighs for any some support.

“My, my, look at you,” The demon laughs in a proud tone as he watches and feels your eagerness in blowing him. You barely hear him but manage to suck at his head, the obvious weak-spot. The feeling has him grunting beneath you. A win. “So eager now…” He coos. But like the demon he is, he wants nothing more than to throw you off. Even if he was feeling good, annoying you was probably more fun.

He lets you continue your little defiance blowjob for just a moment longer until he’s had enough of just watching. His thumb sinks inside of your pussy in one quick motion.

Lightning shoots across your entire body at the sudden intrusion. Randomly getting the satisfaction of what you had craved for far too long is overwhelming to your body and it almost makes you cum. You take your mouth off of his hardening cock. Sobbing, pathetically, into the air with your head rolling to the side limp. Your hips buckle just as your hands also can no longer support your top half fully and you fall onto your elbows.

You would blame the damn drug for your weakness.

“Fuck! Fuck,” You curse, fingers tangling into the sheets of your bed. Your eyes fall shut tightly as you focus on not letting this demon bring you to your orgasm yet. Even if the tension in your lower half was hotter than molten lava right now and begging to be released. “You!”

The demon snickers as he removes his thumb from inside of your core. Watching your body tremble and shake, pussy throb and drip with slick for more. “What? Got somethin’ to say now?” He whispers as his long tongue licks across his soaked thumb.

“I-” You start, speaking through clenched teeth. You couldn’t deny it anymore. The simple touch of his has your entire body going crazy. You can’t focus on being a brat anymore. The dominating feeling of your need for him outweighs your pride in proving a point anymore and you were bound to snap. “Dammit, you’ve had your fun! Now, fuck, just…please!” You beg as sweet as you possibly can. Finding enough strength to turn ever so slightly to look back at the demon. “Please.”

He bites his bottom lip at your sudden eye contact and your, very successful, begging. And he doesn’t say anything to settle your feverish desire, instead you watch as he leans forward. You feel his long tongue press against your aching pussy, finally, finally, giving you some form of relief. His tongue is quick to sink into your core as he eats you out like you’re a meal to a starving man. His nose is flush against your skin as he presses his entire mouth over your soaking wet center.

Now that you are getting the much needed attention between your thighs, moans fall far easier from your lips. Your hand weakly moves back to his cock as you attempt to keep him hard while his tongue thrusts inside of you and his fingers brush up against your clit. You sob into his skin as you barely manage to move your hand under his work. Your body tingles at every flick, curl, press, and lick of his tongue. The tight twist of your orgasm is setting in far too fast and yet you somehow still don’t want to give into it. Not yet, you wanted more.

“I can’t…no more!” You cry in a broken, shrill voice. You manage to shake your head as quickly as you can, removing your hand away from his weeping cock as you try your best to get him to stop. “Please! Just…want you!”

The demon hums in amusement but doesn’t stop even with your pleas ringing in the open air. He continues his rhythm and even adds to it, pressing a lone finger inside along with his tongue; and your pussy begs for release. You can hear how lewd your pussy sounds with the addition of his finger. The sloppy wet noises would haunt you the next time you woke up and you were sure to remember the betrayal of your own body he fooled around with.

But you can’t take him fingering you and that devilish long tongue of his that managed to reach even deeper than his finger. “Please…” You beg one last time as your impending orgasm is coming in hot. Can feel the coil of your lust beginning to wind up deep inside your lower half. He pulls you closer and closer to shoving you over that edge with every curl of his finger but at the last second, when he knows you’re going to come, he pulls entirely away. His finger and tongue slip out of your pussy before giving you the chance to come.

You never would’ve guessed you would be thankful for the relief of not reaching an orgasm but god tonight, was the first of many. You go limp against his legs and pant like you’ve just ran a race. An uncontrollable shudder racks through your body at the loss of your approaching orgasm but you’d have time to find it again later. Somehow, you manage to laugh. For the big bad demon listened to you and your little pleas. You weakly switch your position to turn and face him, a smile on your face now to rival his own. His eyes are deep and dark with lust as he stares at you. A smile to mimic your own but god his lips and jaw are soaking wet from the slick of his previous meal— the sight makes your pussy throb.

“Aw, what a good boy. You listen so well.” You hum as your hands spread out across his broad chest. His hands settle on your thighs, rubbing gently into the thick of them, as he waits for you to speak while also giving you the time to come down from your previous high. “Now…you gonna fuck ‘the brat out of me’, or what?”

The demon laughs at your statement, nodding ever so slightly. His hands move to your waist and he squeezes your body ever so gently. “Lift your hips then, brat.” He hums in response. Using the term brat now as if it’s some sort of sweet sentimental nickname. It was nothing but a tease.

You do as you’re told though, with the help of his guiding hands, you manage to lift yourself to line up with the head of his cock. You roll your hips in his grasp ever so slightly to brush against the head of his waiting cock; and the small touch sends a wave of ecstasy through your chest. And what you hope is going to be a slow start for you and him, solely so you may get adjusted to how big he is, well you were wrong. For in one swift motion, his hands guide you down while his hips rise to meet you and before you can blink you’re fully sitting on his cock as it buries deep into your center.

Your body spasms as the sudden electricity of your orgasm rips right through you. And you can’t help it as your mouth falls open in a mix of a moan and a cry as your unexpected climax sets your whole body ablaze. You mutter incoherently as your body falls limp against his chest, hips rocking to get any sort of friction to ride out the pleasure plummeting through your veins.

Your orgasm lasts a few fiery seconds while he stays put inside of you. The quick high to the beginning of a hard crash has your grip on his shoulders weakening while sleep threatens to pull you under.

But the demon wasn’t finished with you just yet.

“Not this time. You’re not gonna get the chance to fall back asleep.” The demon mumbles into the crown of your head as his grip on your waist tightens. You feel your body shift higher up on his chest as his knees prop up, giving him almost entirely every bit of control he could ask for. Which meant trouble for you. “Don’t pass out on me now.” He whispers before his hips are snapping forward.

Your pussy burns with the stretch of his cock but you take all of him as he fucks into your already overstimulated core. He uses the grip on your waist to pull you down every time his hips rise to meet you. Each thrust sends a wave of mind numbing pleasure everywhere, even to the very tips of your toes. He fucks your pussy like his life depends on it. Grunts into your hair at the connection of your bodies. Meanwhile you do nothing but cry like a blubbering fool as he uses your body for his own pleasure.

And the most annoying part of it all?

You fucking loved every bit of it.

Turned you on to the point it started to wake you up again. Knowing he was using you to seek his own pleasure. He could’ve just as easily left you in this dream to move onto wherever else he goes but he chose to stay there with you. Because he wanted you; and he wanted you to make him feel good just as much as you wanted him. Made you feel a little better about yourself.

The demon must’ve noticed your mind wandering off somewhere else for his speed picks up tremendously. His thrusts are far more shallow but quicker now, as if he was getting desperate. You can’t help but laugh, or what you assume is a laugh, at the thought.

“Yeah? What’s so funny?” He asks with a more rougher thrust into your already overstimulated pussy.

You whine at the change up of his thrusts, panting against his chest as your grip slightly returns on his shoulders. “Y-you fucking love this!” You moan against his skin. Slightly propping yourself up to get a good look at the demon lying beneath you. Needed him to look into your eyes so he knew that you knew he enjoyed your shared night. “Just as much as I do.”

Maybe you should’ve been the demon instead.

The dark haired man laughs before in one swift motion, you find yourself on your back. You lay against your cool bed sheets, thunder, accompanied by the soft sound of rain, echoes somewhere off in the sky, while your ‘nightmare’ hangs above you. His stiff cock stays buried inside of you as his hands move from your hips to your ankles.

You had been getting fucked so well you didn’t even notice the demon’s crest appearing at your womb. It was your first time seeing it but you really couldn’t even bring yourself to care. Fuck it, so what if a demon had control over you? The worst thing in the world couldn’t be having sex with a demon, especially not a demon like the one deep inside of you and staring so lovingly down at you.

“Yeah. I fucking love it.” The dark haired man admits, blue eyes scanning quickly across your face. But you don’t get the chance to figure out what look he’s giving you when he’s back to thrusting inside of your pussy. His thick, strong arms wrap around your legs as he begins to move.

A moan is ripped from your lips as you grab the sheets beneath you. The same winding feeling of your orgasm is subtly making itself known once again. But something felt more intimate in his thrusts now. They were no longer shallow or a means to an end, every thrust was well placed. A little slower but far more drawn out and somehow more powerful. You’re just glad his dark blue eyes watch his cock disappearing inside of you rather than stare at your face. You’re not sure if you could handle it at the moment.

“What’s your—ah—name?” You gasp between pathetic whines as your hands move to grip the sheets beside your head. You can feel his gaze shift to look at you and in your vulnerable state you glance away. Embarrassed was an understatement seeing as you were just now asking for his name.

“Why ya wanna know? Wanna scream it or somethin’?” The man teases, pressing himself tighter against you. His hips never slow even as he speaks. And you know that same smirk he’s been wearing all damn night stays plastered on his stupidly handsome face.

“Y-yes.” You admit in your aphrodisiac state. Panting, moaning, whining at every thrust of his hips. Could feel your womb burning hot with his crest, begging for his seed.

The man laughs at you. Not even surprised at your honesty. It was his doing of course, why you couldn’t lie and had to give in to every bit of pleasure you desired. His hands sculpt along your thighs before your feet are meeting entirely too close to your head. A dangerous press, surely allowing him the room to finally kiss your womb.

“Toji.” He groans into the shell of your ear while he shifts your bent knees to settle on either side of his shoulders as he piledrives into your pussy. “Say it.”

His hips never stop moving and you can feel his black tail from before whip around and slither up against your thigh. The appendage is warm to the touch and gently burns against your skin, causing you to gasp; giving you the chance to finally speak the name of the demon who’s tormented your sleep for weeks.

“Toji!” You cry. Can feel the head of his cock kiss your cervix. The crest Toji had placed earlier on your womb glows a bright pink as he presses further inside of you; rushes you closer to your second orgasm. Overstimulated wasn’t even the right word for how you felt anymore. How he was making you feel with every long draw of his cock. You managed to be hot and cold all at the same time. The pleasure from his cock spearing you in half and the slight pain of his tail warming against your thigh; not to mention the crest pulsating along your lower half, sending waves of ecstasy scorching through your body.

It was all too much. Turning you back into nothing but a mumbling fool, screaming out a man’s name you barely knew. “Toji!” You sob in pleasure again and again. His name echoes in every corner of your room as you whimper for him. More and more, you wanted everything he could give you. And you never wanted to wake from this dream.

“Careful now,” Toji says, laughing softly into your ear as he pounds into your soaking pussy. “Keep sayin’ my name like that and I might just make you mine forever.” He hums with a wicked grin, moves to run his sharp fangs across your neck. “You wanna be mine?”

You can barely make out what he’s saying or really understand what he’s asking for. You don’t know, you don’t care, you just nod pathetically to his demands. “Yes, yes, whatever. Toji—please! Please!” You manage to respond. You resort to begging him to let you come. To finally give you the sweet release of the burning, pulsing lust pounding in your veins.

“Yeah, yeah. Come for me, baby.” Toji laughs once more against your skin before his teeth sink into your throat. His hand smooths over the crest on your stomach as he instructs you to give him all of you. And you do as you're told.

The teeth sinking into your flesh, the hot passion of the crest, Toji’s never ending thrusts, his sweet words, it all was too much now. Your mouth falls open in a mix of Toji’s name and a barely audible sob as your orgasm hits you like a truck. Your body tightens up, squeezing around Toji, who groans as your pussy convulses around him, as you are finally allowed to come for the second time. You whimper as Toji never stops thrusting through your orgasm, keeps going and builds it up, until your entire body returns to full on trembling. He doesn’t stop until he reaches his own orgasm. Presses his hand on your stomach, on the crest, directly above where his cock fucks into you. Where he then buries his entire self inside of you as he cums. A deep groan rolls off the demon’s tongue just as he removes his teeth from your throat. Allowing him to grunt through each rope of cum that he pushes inside of you.

You continue to moan even as his thrusts turn into a slow, rocking speed. Somehow you knew he was making sure your womb accepted his seed. Thrusting every bit of himself inside of you with that stupid smirk on his face. You watch, in your blurry state of post-orgasm, as Toji leans back to view his handiwork; staring directly at the crest he had placed against your womb. Watching as it glows one final time before dimming and turning into something that just looks like a pretty tattoo.

“Oh yeah,” He chuckles. The noise barely gets your attention as you’re slowly fading, losing consciousness as what you assume is your dream coming to an end. “You’re mine forever sweetheart.”

It’s the last thing you hear before succumbing back into the depths of sleep. Tomorrow you will wake once again exhausted from your dreams because of the one called Toji. Yet a small voice inside of your head whispered and hoped to wake up next to him tomorrow morning instead.

#zevrra zevrra!#spicy zev!!#jjk #halloween special #toji x female reader #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji smut #jjk smut #jjk fic #toji fic #female reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #18+ mdni #happy halloweeeeeeen #!!!! 🤍

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mirisss · 2 months ago

Text

Monstrous Love

Werewolf! Choi Seungcheol x afab! human reader

Warnings: Obessession, possessiveness, some violence, biting, blood, Stockholm syndrome, mentioning suspicion of being r*ped (though not using that word), I think that’s it, let me know if I’ve missed anything.

Wordcount ≈ 7.8k

Halloween special, thank you to everyone who voted for the Halloween specials, first place was Scoups so here you have his fic! I hope you all enjoy this!

Please reblog!

Third Person POV

(Y/n) had always liked the woods, especially when the skies turned heavy with rain. Something about the quiet rustle of leaves, the distant call of birds, and the cool breeze always made her feel at peace. But today, the dark clouds above seemed more threatening than soothing. The air was thick with the promise of a storm, and the usually familiar path through the woods felt foreign, almost foreboding.

As she hurried along, clutching her cloak tighter around her, she noticed the wind picking up. The first droplets of rain splattered against her skin. She quickened her pace, her heart racing not just from the fear of the incoming storm but something else—a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach, as though she were being watched.

Suddenly, a branch snapped behind her. She froze.

The rain came down harder, her surroundings quickly being swallowed by the downpour. She spun on her heels, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes scanned the misty forest.

Nothing.

Just the trees and the rain.

With a shaky exhale, she turned to continue her path back to town, but in her haste, she collided into something solid. She stumbled back, her breath hitching as she looked up.

There he was.

The man from the woods.

His towering figure loomed over her, water dripping from his tousled dark hair. His eyes—those notorious red eyes that had haunted the stories whispered around town—pierced through her, sending a chill down her spine. He didn’t speak, and yet his presence screamed of danger, of something ancient and wild.

Scoups.

The name everyone feared. The man—the creature—who lived in the woods, shrouded in mystery. Most people avoided these parts in the hopes of never crossing paths with him, but now, here he was, mere inches from (Y/n).

Her legs felt like they might give way beneath her as she stared up at him. Fear clawed at her throat, yet she couldn’t look away. His features were sharp, rugged—beautiful, in a terrifying way. And though his face was cold, there was something else in his expression. Something she couldn’t quite place.

And then, before she could gather her wits to run or speak, he moved closer, his hand reaching toward her face, his fingers just barely brushing her cheek. The touch was surprisingly gentle, but his eyes remained fixed on hers, burning with an intensity that made her shiver.

“I’ve found you,” he whispered, his voice low and rough, as if it had been trapped inside him for far too long.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

“What do you mean?” (Y/n) stammered, her voice barely a whisper as the rain fell harder around them.

His lips curled into the faintest of smiles, though it held no warmth. “You’re mine.”

(Y/n)’s breath caught. “I-I don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the storm.

“I’ve waited so long,” Scoups said, his voice almost a growl now, but his eyes softened just a little. “And now that I’ve found you… I’m never letting you go.”

(Y/n)’s heart raced in her chest, pounding so loudly she could barely hear the rain or the wind anymore. Fear surged through her veins as Scoups’ words echoed in her mind: “You’re mine.”

She couldn’t think—couldn’t breathe. Her instincts screamed at her to run, to get away from him, this creature who wasn’t fully human, whose presence made the hair on her arms stand on end. Stories of his monstrous nature, of his cruelty, flashed through her mind. Every ounce of her wanted to scream, but the terror strangled her voice.

Without another thought, (Y/n) turned on her heel and bolted. She didn’t know where she was running to—only that she needed to get as far from him as possible.

Her feet pounded against the muddy forest floor, the rain lashing against her face, blurring her vision. The wind whipped at her cloak as she pushed through the dense trees. She didn’t dare look back, but she could feel him. Every step she took, it felt as though he was there, just behind her, his presence as heavy as the storm clouds above.

How was he always so close?

Her chest burned from exertion, her legs growing weak with each step. Yet, no matter how fast she ran or which direction she turned, it was as though the woods were conspiring against her. Every path seemed to lead her back toward him, his red eyes glowing faintly in the darkness.

Panic seized her heart. She was trapped.

She stumbled, her foot catching on an exposed root, and she went crashing to the ground. Her palms stung as they scraped against the wet earth, but she scrambled to her feet. Her body screamed for rest, but her mind knew she couldn’t stop. Not here. Not now. She had to keep running, but the world was spinning, her vision blurring as the storm worsened.

And then, as if the rain itself had swallowed her will to keep fighting, she felt her body give out. Her legs buckled beneath her, and everything went black.

~ Time Skip ~

Scoups stood by the window, his eyes locked on the unconscious figure sprawled on his bed. The rain still poured outside, drumming against the roof in a steady, relentless rhythm. But his mind was focused entirely on her—on the delicate girl who had collapsed in his arms, drenched and trembling.

(Y/n).

She looked fragile lying there, her face pale from exhaustion, her chest rising and falling in slow, shallow breaths. His sharp eyes traced the scratches and bruises marring her skin—marks she had earned trying to escape him. The guilt stirred in him, but it was nothing compared to the primal need coursing through his veins.

His mate. After years of searching, after endless nights of running through the woods, driven by the emptiness in his chest, he had finally found her.

She was beautiful, even now—especially now. The way the firelight danced across her face made his breath catch. Her wet hair clung to her skin, and her clothes, still damp from the storm, stuck to her body in a way that made it impossible for him to look away.

His instincts roared within him. The wolf inside him stirred, restless, urging him to claim what was his, to mark her and make sure no one could ever take her from him. The need to protect her, to possess her, surged with every breath. Her scent—a soft, intoxicating sweetness that seemed to wrap around his very soul—drove him mad.

His claws flexed at his sides as he fought against the surge of desire that threatened to consume him. His entire body ached for her, pulsed with a hunger he hadn’t felt in years. He wanted to pull her into his arms, bury his face in her neck, and let the world fade away. He wanted to feel her skin against his, to know that she was his, that she would never leave him.

But he couldn’t.

Not like this.

Scoups’ jaw tightened as he forced himself to take a step back from the bed, putting distance between them. He clenched his fists, trying to ground himself, trying to remember who he was—what he was. She didn’t know yet. She didn’t understand the bond, the connection that had been forged the moment they met.

She didn’t know how deeply tied to him she already was.

His eyes flickered to her scars, fresh and raw from her fall in the woods. He hadn’t meant to frighten her so badly, but the way she had looked at him—like he was some kind of monster—it had triggered something primal in him. His wolf had wanted to chase, to show her that no matter how fast she ran, he would always find her.

But seeing her now, so fragile and vulnerable, he felt a pang of guilt. She didn’t deserve this. He was a predator, a beast, and she… she was so delicate, like a flower he was afraid to crush with just a touch.

Still, even with the guilt gnawing at the edges of his conscience, he couldn’t deny the overwhelming pull he felt toward her. She was his mate. He had waited so long for this—for her. And now that she was here, the thought of letting her go, of letting anyone or anything take her from him, was unbearable.

I could lose control, he thought darkly, his eyes narrowing as he watched her. The wolf inside him was howling for release, clawing at his restraint. He could feel his pulse quicken, the veins in his neck tightening as he struggled to maintain his composure. Each second he inhaled her scent, his grip on his humanity slipped further.

She stirred slightly, her head moving against the pillow, and his heart raced. He took a sharp breath, watching her with rapt attention. Even unconscious, she had a power over him that no one else ever had. The firelight reflected off the delicate curve of her jaw, the soft rise and fall of her chest—she was beautiful, maddeningly so.

His hand twitched, aching to reach out, to trace his fingers over her skin, to claim what was his by right. But he held back, forcing himself to turn away, to focus on the storm outside instead of the storm brewing inside him.

He couldn’t lose control. Not yet.

She would wake soon, and when she did, she would be terrified again. He knew she didn’t understand the bond, didn’t feel the same pull he did—not yet, at least. She was human. Fragile. He needed to be patient, to give her time to come to terms with what they were.

But each second, each minute that passed with her lying there, vulnerable and unaware, made it harder and harder to hold back the beast within him.

She’s mine, he reminded himself, the thought both a comfort and a curse. He would protect her, care for her, but he couldn’t deny that his desire ran deeper than simple protection.

His wolf wanted more.

It wanted her—body, soul, everything.

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to silence the growl building in his throat. He would wait. He would hold back. For her sake. For now.

But the moment she looked into his eyes again, the moment she finally understood that she belonged to him, there would be no holding back.

And no force on earth would keep him from claiming what was his.

When (Y/n) woke, the first thing she noticed was warmth.

Not the suffocating heat of the storm, but a gentle, comforting warmth, like being wrapped in a blanket near a fire. She stirred slightly, feeling something soft beneath her. She blinked, her vision hazy, as the memories of the rain, the chase, and—him—came rushing back.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she was greeted by the sight of a dimly lit room. The air smelled faintly of pine, woodsmoke, and something earthy. She was lying on a large, well-worn bed, covered in thick furs. The room around her was rustic—wooden walls lined with books and various trinkets that looked handmade. A fire crackled softly in a hearth across the room, casting a flickering glow on the walls.

Her pulse quickened as she tried to sit up, but her body felt heavy, exhausted from her ordeal. As she shifted, she realized she wasn’t alone.

He was there.

Seungcheol—Scoups—stood near the window, his back to her as he stared out into the dark woods beyond. His broad shoulders were tense, as though he was deep in thought, yet his aura filled the entire room with an intensity that made her feel small.

For a moment, she wondered if she should pretend to still be unconscious. But before she could even consider it, he turned, his piercing red eyes locking onto hers.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice low, a strange mix of relief and something darker.

(Y/n) recoiled slightly, her heart pounding once more. “Where… where am I?” she managed to ask, her voice small and shaky.

“My home,” he replied simply, moving closer with a fluid grace that reminded her all too much of a predator. “You collapsed in the woods. I brought you here.”

She shifted uncomfortably beneath his gaze. “Why?” she whispered, still half-expecting him to lunge at her, to take whatever it was he wanted.

Scoups’ eyes softened, though only just. “Because,” he said slowly, as though weighing each word, “you’re my mate.”

The word sent a shiver down her spine. She had heard of such things in stories—creatures who bound themselves to another, a connection deeper than human understanding. But she never imagined it would happen to her, let alone with someone like him.

“I’m not… I’m not your mate,” (Y/n) stammered, pushing herself back against the headboard, her hands trembling. “I don’t even know you.”

A shadow passed over Scoups’ face, his expression hardening. “You will,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “Whether you realize it yet or not, you’re mine. You belong to me.”

(Y/n) shook her head, fear rising again. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he stepped back, giving her space, though his eyes never left hers. “Rest,” he said. “You’re safe here. No one will harm you while you’re under my protection.”

But the way he said it made her realize one terrifying truth: the greatest danger in these woods might just be him.

(Y/n) stirred as the cold seeped into her bones, a shiver running down her spine despite the warmth of the fire nearby. Her clothes clung to her damp skin, her hair still wet from the storm. She curled into herself, trying to get warm, but it was no use. The icy chill seemed to creep deeper with every second. Her mind was groggy, her body exhausted, but slowly, the sounds around her became clearer—the crackle of the fire, the low howl of the storm outside.

Her pulse quickened as she tried to assess her situation. She was still in her clothes, which brought a strange sense of relief. He hadn’t… She swallowed, trying to calm her racing thoughts. Despite the fear gnawing at her, it didn’t seem like he had done anything to harm her while she was unconscious.

But the cold was unbearable, and her soaked clothes made it worse. She shivered again, her teeth nearly chattering as she pulled the blankets tighter around her.

That’s when she heard him.

Scoups moved before she could even register it, his form a blur of shadow in the corner of the room. His eyes, sharp and glowing red in the dim light, were immediately on her, taking in her discomfort. For a moment, she held her breath, too terrified to speak or move.

Without a word, he turned and left the room. The door closed softly behind him, leaving her in an eerie silence.

(Y/n) let out a shaky breath, her body trembling not only from the cold but from the tension that hung in the air. The sound of the storm outside only seemed to amplify her unease, but before she could try to gather her thoughts, the door creaked open again. Scoups returned, holding a bundle of clothes in his hands. His movements were fluid, almost too graceful, like a predator stalking its prey.

He crossed the room with a measured, deliberate pace, stopping in front of her. His face was unreadable, that same icy stare locked on her, but there was something softer about his demeanor now—something almost… concerned? She couldn’t tell, but the intensity of his presence still made her heart race.

“Get up,” he said, his voice deep and commanding.

(Y/n) froze, her fingers clenching the blankets around her as she met his gaze. She hesitated, unsure of what he wanted, unsure if she should trust him. The fear of what he could do—what he was—kept her rooted in place.

But there was no defying him. Not with those eyes, not with the raw power that radiated from him.

Still, her body screamed at her to move. To do as he said. Her fear was overwhelming, and in the silence that followed, she knew that resisting would be futile.

Slowly, she pushed herself up from the bed, her legs trembling as she stood. She could feel his gaze on her, watching her every movement, and it made her skin crawl with unease. The distance between them felt like a fragile thread, one that could snap at any moment.

He handed her the clothes—a set of soft, dry garments, likely his own, judging by their size. She stared at them, confused for a moment, unsure of why he was giving them to her.

“Your clothes are wet,” Scoups said simply, his voice still firm but lacking the harshness she had expected. “Take a shower. Change into these.”

She blinked, looking from the clothes to him, her mind racing. She didn’t want to make a mistake, didn’t want to provoke him, but this… was unexpected. It felt oddly kind, though his cold demeanor made it hard to decipher his true intentions.

Still, she nodded, too afraid to refuse. Without another word, he turned and led her down a narrow hallway. The walls were lined with rustic wood, and she noticed how quiet the house was despite the storm raging outside. He stopped in front of a door and pushed it open, revealing a small but cozy bathroom. Steam already lingered in the air, as though he had prepared it for her.

“Go,” he said, his tone flat, though his gaze lingered on her for just a moment longer than she was comfortable with. “Take your time.”

(Y/n) hesitated at the threshold of the bathroom, feeling the warmth of the room on her skin. She glanced up at him, her heart thudding in her chest. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something she couldn’t quite place. A strange softness hidden beneath the cold exterior.

She stepped inside, clutching the clothes close to her chest, and shut the door behind her, leaning against it for a moment. Her breath came out in shaky gasps as she tried to calm her nerves. The warm air from the shower beckoned her, and she could feel the tension begin to melt away as the thought of warmth enveloped her.

Turning toward the shower, she carefully peeled off her soaked clothes, shivering as the cold air hit her skin. She stepped under the hot spray, feeling the water wash over her, the warmth sinking deep into her bones. The tension in her muscles began to ease, though her mind was still racing, still haunted by the reality of where she was—and who was just outside.

But as the water cascaded over her, she allowed herself a moment to breathe. Just a moment to process everything.

Who was this man—this monster—that terrified her, yet showed her a kind of care she never expected? And why did his touch, his presence, evoke such confusing feelings in her?

I don’t belong here… she thought, but even as she said it, she couldn’t shake the strange pull that lingered in the air between them.

She knew she had to be careful. She couldn’t let herself be swayed by his momentary kindness. He was still dangerous, still the creature from the stories. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized… there was something else about him, something deeper.

Something that scared her more than the monster he was.

Scoups paced by the fire, his hands flexing and curling into fists as he waited for her to emerge. His mind raced, battling the primal instincts that surged within him. The wolf inside him had been restless for hours, growling and pacing within the confines of his mind, and the sound of the shower running only made it worse. The knowledge that she was just beyond the door—his mate, naked and vulnerable, surrounded by his scent—was driving him mad.

He closed his eyes, trying to focus on something else, anything else, but the pull was relentless. His beast stirred, clawing at his control, demanding more than just her presence. It wanted her body, her blood, her soul. It wanted to claim her in every possible way. But Scoups was stronger than that—he had to be.

When the sound of the water finally stopped, he held his breath, listening as she moved about in the bathroom. The seconds felt like hours, and his heart thudded in his chest as he waited. When the door creaked open and she stepped out, he turned to face her, his breath catching in his throat.

She was wearing his clothes.

The oversized shirt hung loosely on her small frame, the sleeves falling past her wrists, and the trousers bunched at her ankles. Yet despite how large the clothes were on her, she looked… perfect. His scent clung to her now, and that alone was enough to make his blood boil with possessiveness. The sight of her, wrapped in his scent, in his clothes, awakened something deep within him.

Mine.

His inner beast roared in approval, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough until his mark was permanently branded on her shoulder, until her skin bore the evidence of their bond. His wolf wanted to taste her blood, to feel her body beneath his, writhing in submission. The hunger burned deep, almost unbearable, and for a moment, he wondered if he could hold himself back much longer.

But he had to.

He had spent so long without her—waiting, searching—that he couldn’t risk scaring her away. Not when she was so close, not when she was finally within his grasp.

He clenched his jaw, trying to wrestle his emotions into submission, but the moment their eyes met, he knew it was a losing battle. She looked so small, so fragile in his clothes, her wet hair falling in soft strands around her face. Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes wide and uncertain as she stared back at him. She was scared—he could see it in the way she trembled slightly, in the way her hands clutched the fabric of the shirt.

But she didn’t run.

And that was all the permission he needed.

Before he could think, before he could stop himself, he crossed the room in a few swift strides, his heart pounding in his chest. She took a small step back, her breath catching, but she didn’t move away fully. His hand reached out instinctively, his fingers brushing against her cheek, tracing the soft curve of her skin. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t pull away, even as his thumb stroked gently across her skin.

Her warmth—her softness—sent a shiver down his spine.

“Scoups…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, filled with fear, confusion, and something else—something she likely didn’t understand yet.

He leaned in, his eyes never leaving hers as he closed the distance between them. His beast stirred, impatient, demanding more, but he forced it back, knowing he couldn’t rush this. Not yet. Instead, he focused on her, on the way her breath quickened, the way her body tensed and relaxed under his touch.

His lips found hers in a slow, deliberate kiss.

The moment their lips met, the world seemed to shift around him. The kiss was gentle, almost hesitant, but the intensity of it overwhelmed him. Her lips were soft, warm, and he could feel her tremble beneath his touch. But it wasn’t fear this time—at least, not entirely. He could feel the way her body responded, the subtle tension in her muscles, the way her breath hitched as the kiss deepened, though he kept it restrained.

It was everything he had imagined, everything he had craved for so long, but at the same time, it was far more than that. It wasn’t just about satisfying the beast inside him—it was something more primal, something more intimate. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her damp hair as he pulled her closer.

Her scent filled his senses, and he could taste the lingering sweetness of her skin. It was intoxicating, making it harder and harder to hold back. His wolf growled in approval, wanting to take more, wanting to mark her, to make her his in every way possible. But he couldn’t—he wouldn’t. Not yet.

He pulled back, though every fiber of his being screamed at him to continue. His eyes searched hers, seeing the way she was still reeling from the kiss. Her lips were slightly swollen, her cheeks flushed, and the way she looked at him made something inside him tighten. She had never experienced anything like this before—he could tell from the way she seemed overwhelmed, unsure of how to process the emotions coursing through her.

(Y/n) stared up at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to catch her breath. She looked confused, frightened, but there was also something else in her eyes—a spark of something that mirrored his own desire, though she likely didn’t understand it.

Scoups’ thumb grazed her lower lip, and he couldn’t resist leaning in again, his voice low and rough as he spoke. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. “Whether you realize it or not, you belong to me.”

She shivered at his words, her eyes wide, but he could see the conflict in them—the way she was torn between fear and something deeper. Something that made her hesitate, that made her stay in his arms instead of running away.

For now, it was enough.

But the beast inside him growled, unsatisfied. The kiss had only stoked the fire within him, and it wouldn’t be truly sated until he had her, fully and completely. Until his mark was on her skin and until she bore the symbol of their bond.

But he would wait.

For her sake, he would wait. Or at least, he would try to.

Scoups exhaled sharply as he finally forced himself to pull away from her. His breath was ragged, his heart pounding, and the beast inside him was still roaring, furious that he had denied it once again. His eyes glowed brighter than ever, their usual icy red hue flaring with intensity. It took every ounce of his willpower to step back, to regain some semblance of control over the monster that clawed within him.

But when he looked down at her, he froze.

(Y/n) stood there, her eyes wide, lips still parted from their kiss, her body trembling as if it couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. She was in a trance—bewildered, overwhelmed by the force of it all. He could see it in the way her chest heaved, the way her skin flushed, and for a moment, he wondered if he had gone too far. Had he pushed her beyond what she could handle?

Her gaze lifted to meet his, and as their eyes locked, Scoups felt a pull so strong it nearly dragged him under again. His beast growled possessively, wanting more, urging him to take her fully, to claim her now and forever. But something stopped him—the way she stared at him, fragile, vulnerable, as though she were seeing him for the first time.

And then, without warning, her legs gave out beneath her.

Scoups moved instantly, catching her before she could hit the ground. She collapsed into his arms, her body limp as if the weight of everything had become too much. His eyes widened in alarm, his previous resolve cracking as concern flooded his senses.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice no longer cold, no longer distant. His heart clenched painfully as he held her close, his glowing eyes fading back into their natural deep brown, softening with worry. He knelt beside her, one hand supporting her back while the other brushed her hair from her face. The sight of her, fragile and overwhelmed, pierced through his hardened exterior in a way nothing else ever had.

For the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt… human.

Her breathing was shallow, her lips slightly parted, but she didn’t seem to be in pain—just overwhelmed. The way she had collapsed, her body giving in after everything that had happened between them, sent a surge of guilt through him. He had scared her. He had pushed too hard, too fast, and now she was paying the price for it.

“Are you hurt?” he asked again, his voice deep but gentle, unlike the icy tone he usually carried. He could hear the worry in his own words, feel the unfamiliar sensation of it tightening in his chest. He wasn’t used to feeling this way, wasn’t used to caring about anyone—but she was different. She was his mate.

And he had almost forgotten that she was human.

His hand lingered on her cheek, stroking it softly as her eyes fluttered closed. For a moment, he just held her there, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what to do. He had never been in a situation like this before—his beast had never allowed anyone close enough for it to matter. But now, with her in his arms, all the ferocity inside him softened into something protective, something far more terrifying than his usual coldness.

He could hurt her so easily, with just one wrong move. His beast could break her without a second thought, and yet here she was, collapsing from the mere intensity of their connection.

She’s too delicate… too fragile for this world.

His fingers brushed along her neck, feeling the soft pulse beneath her skin. She was still conscious, but barely, and the thought of her vulnerability sent a strange kind of fear coursing through him. It wasn’t like the fear he instilled in others—it was something else entirely. It was fear of losing her. Fear of breaking her.

Scoups’ jaw clenched as he struggled to contain the warring emotions inside him. He wanted to claim her, to take her in every sense of the word, but he knew he had to wait. He had to be careful with her. She wasn’t like him—she wasn’t a monster, she wasn’t built for the dark, primal world he lived in.

But she was his.

“Talk to me,” he whispered, his thumb grazing her lower lip as he searched her face for any sign of consciousness. “Tell me what you’re feeling. I need to know if I’ve hurt you.”

Her eyes slowly opened, though they were still heavy with exhaustion and confusion. She blinked up at him, as though trying to make sense of what had just happened. Her breath hitched when she saw the change in his expression—the softness in his features, the warmth in his eyes. He wasn’t the terrifying creature she had feared. Not in this moment.

“I-I’m not hurt…” she mumbled weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Just… overwhelmed.”

Scoups let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, relief washing over him like a wave. He shifted slightly, pulling her more securely into his arms, cradling her against his chest. Her head rested against him, and for the first time, he didn’t feel like a monster. He felt like something more—something better—because she was there, trusting him despite everything.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice low and filled with a rare sincerity. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just…”

He trailed off, unsure of how to explain the storm of emotions raging inside him. How could he tell her that he had been waiting for her all his life? That the moment he had laid eyes on her, his entire world had shifted? That his beast, the creature he had lived with for so long, was clawing at him to claim her, to mark her, to make her his forever?

But he couldn’t say any of that. Not yet.

Instead, he gently lifted her in his arms and stood, carrying her back toward the bed. She didn’t resist, too weak and dazed to do anything but rest her head against his chest. He laid her down carefully, pulling the blankets over her before sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her closely.

“I’ll give you space,” he murmured, his voice hoarse as he stood up and backed away, his eyes never leaving hers. “But just know… you’re safe here. With me.”

He turned to leave, his heart heavy, but before he could take more than a step, her voice, small and uncertain, stopped him.

“Why?” she asked, her eyes fluttering open again. “Why are you doing this?”

Scoups froze, his back to her, his mind racing as he tried to come up with an answer. He didn’t know how to explain it—not in a way that wouldn’t scare her more. But he owed her the truth, even if it was a truth she wasn’t ready to hear.

“Because you’re mine,” he said, his voice low, filled with a possessiveness that he couldn’t fully mask. “And I don’t let go of what’s mine.”

“What if I don’t want to be yours?”

The words hit him like a thunderclap, reverberating in his mind with a force so intense, he almost couldn’t process them.

What if I don’t want to be yours?

Her voice, soft and hesitant, carried a weight that shattered whatever fragile control he had left. Scoups froze, his back still turned to her, his mind spinning. For a split second, he thought he must have misheard, that her exhaustion had made her say something she didn’t mean.

But no. She had said it.

And the instant those words sank in, something inside him snapped.

His muscles tensed, his heartbeat quickened, and the beast he had been fighting back for so long surged forward with a ferocity he hadn’t felt in years. He didn’t want to be this way—he had tried to be gentle, to hold back, to give her time—but the thought of her rejecting him after the kiss they had just shared, after the connection they had just felt… it drove him mad.

The room suddenly felt too small, too suffocating, as his beast clawed its way to the surface, breaking through the control he had so desperately tried to maintain. His eyes glowed a furious red, brighter than ever before, and his fangs grew, sharp and menacing, protruding past his lips.

“You don’t want to be mine?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. The sound of it sent a shiver through the air, thick with a primal, animalistic rage. “You think you have a choice?”

The question wasn’t a real one. There was no choice. She had been his from the moment their paths had crossed, from the moment he had first laid eyes on her. His beast would never let her go, not now, not ever.

Scoups turned slowly, his predatory gaze locked onto her, the red glow of his eyes flickering like embers in the dark. He took a step toward her, then another, his movements slow, deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. His muscles rippled beneath his skin, taut with tension, and his breaths came in ragged bursts as his wolf fully surfaced, taking control.

(Y/n)’s eyes widened in terror. She scrambled backward, her legs trembling as she tried to get away from him, her body reacting instinctively to the danger she sensed in him now. But she was no match for him, not in this state. The fear in her eyes only fueled his desire, only made the wolf within him more desperate to claim her, to show her that there was no escape.

She turned, bolting toward the door in a panic, but he was faster—so much faster.

In a flash, he was in front of her, blocking her path. His movements were a blur of speed and power, and before she could even register what was happening, she found herself pressed against the wall, trapped. Her breath came in frantic gasps, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried, futilely, to push him away.

“Running?” he snarled, his voice deeper, more primal now. His glowing eyes bore into hers, filled with a possessiveness that bordered on madness. “You think you can run from me? From this?”

Her body trembled under the weight of his presence, and though she struggled against him, her efforts were useless. His hand gripped her wrist, holding her in place, while his other hand pressed against the wall beside her, trapping her completely. His chest rose and fell with labored breaths, the tension between them crackling like the storm outside.

The scent of her fear filled the air, mixing with the rain-drenched scent of her skin, and it only drove him further into a frenzy. His fangs ached, his body yearned to claim her, and the wolf within him growled impatiently, demanding what was rightfully his.

“You’re mine,” he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper, but the intensity in it was unmistakable. His face was inches from hers now, his breath hot against her skin. “Whether you want it or not.”

Before she could utter another word, his fangs sank into the soft flesh of her neck.

The moment his teeth broke the surface of her skin, a surge of raw power coursed through him. Her blood—sweet, intoxicating—flooded his senses, and his grip on her tightened as he bit down harder, marking her as his. She gasped in pain, her body stiffening in his arms, but there was nothing she could do. She was his now.

Forever.

His bite was deep, primal, the mark of a mate claimed by a wolf. It wasn’t just physical—it was a bond that would tie them together for eternity, something far beyond anything she could understand. His beast reveled in it, finally sated by the act of claiming what was his. The taste of her blood on his tongue, the feel of her body trembling against him—it was everything he had needed, everything he had been denied for so long.

But as the heat of the moment began to subside, Scoups realized something was wrong.

Her body had gone limp in his arms, her head slumping against his chest as her consciousness began to fade. He had pushed too hard, too fast, and now she was slipping away. Panic surged through him as he pulled back, his glowing red eyes widening in alarm. Her skin was pale, her breath shallow, and the sight of her in this state—so fragile, so vulnerable—sent a wave of guilt crashing over him.

He had hurt her.

“Y/n…” His voice trembled, the harshness from moments ago gone, replaced by something far more desperate. He cradled her in his arms, his fangs retracting, his eyes dimming back to their natural brown as the beast retreated. He had claimed her, marked her as his, but in doing so, he had nearly destroyed her.

The guilt was overwhelming.

“Y/n…” he whispered again, his voice breaking as he gently brushed the hair from her face. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, her body limp and unresponsive in his arms. He could hear her heartbeat—faint, but steady—and it was the only thing that kept him from completely losing control again.

He carried her to the bed, laying her down gently, his hands trembling as he watched her sleep. She would heal—his mark would see to that—but the damage he had done was undeniable. She had feared him, and rightfully so.

But now, there was no going back.

She was his, bound to him by blood and soul, and nothing in this world could break that bond.

Not even her fear.

~ Time Skip ~

Years had passed, though (Y/n) had long since stopped counting the days. The life she had known before—her small town, her friends, the warm sunlight on her face as she wandered the familiar streets—had become nothing more than distant memories. Memories that felt like a different lifetime, like a dream she could no longer reach.

Now, her world was confined to the dark woods and the cabin that had become her prison.

She hadn’t seen the town in what felt like an eternity. She had never returned. After that night—after Scoups had claimed her as his mate—there had been no escape. No chance to run, no opportunity to return to the life she once knew. Not that it mattered anymore. Even if she had tried, the bond that tied her to him would have pulled her back. It wasn’t just physical—it was something deeper, something impossible to break.

Something that made her love him, despite everything.

(Y/n) sat by the window of the cabin, staring out at the rain-soaked woods as they blurred in her vision. The storm outside mirrored the constant turmoil in her heart. The cabin was quiet, save for the occasional crackling of the fire, but the silence weighed heavily on her. It had been like this for years now—a strange, suffocating stillness that seemed to wrap itself around her, as if even the forest knew she was trapped.

She should have hated him.

She had tried, at first. She had tried to cling to the anger, to the fear, to remind herself of what he had taken from her. But the bond between them—the bond that had been forged the moment his fangs pierced her skin—had twisted everything inside her. It had made it impossible to feel anything but a strange, overwhelming love for him, even when she didn’t want to.

Her heart had betrayed her.

He loved her, that much was undeniable. In his own possessive, obsessive way, he adored her. He had taken care of her, never allowing her to go hungry, never letting her feel unsafe, even though it was him she feared most. His affection for her was fierce, consuming, and the more time passed, the more she felt it suffocating her. He would hold her, whisper promises in her ear about how they were meant to be, how the moon had bound them together.

How she was his forever.

And despite every rational part of her mind screaming against it, she had grown to love him back. Not by choice, not willingly, but because the bond left her no other option. It was as if the universe itself had decided their fate, and she was powerless to resist.

(Y/n) reached up, absentmindedly tracing the mark on her neck—the mark that had sealed her fate. It had healed long ago, but the scar still remained, a reminder of the night her life had changed. Her fingers brushed against the raised skin, and she shivered, the memory of that night flooding back. She hadn’t been the same since.

The bond had changed her in more ways than one. She could feel it, even now, in the way her body responded to him, in the way her heart quickened whenever he was near. It was unnatural, twisted, but it was real.

And that was the cruelest part of it all.

She heard the familiar sound of the door creaking open behind her, followed by the heavy footsteps she had come to recognize instantly. Scoups was back. She didn’t need to turn around to know it was him—his presence was something she felt even before he entered the room. He was like the storm outside—an unstoppable force, powerful and commanding.

“Y/n.” His voice, deep and filled with a possessive tenderness, broke through the silence. “I’m home.”

She didn’t respond immediately, her eyes still fixed on the rain outside. She knew he would come to her, as he always did. He never could stay away from her for long, not with the bond pulling them together. Sure enough, a moment later, she felt his arms wrap around her from behind, pulling her against his chest. His warmth enveloped her, and despite herself, she leaned into him.

“I missed you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her hair as he held her close. “Why do you always sit by the window when I’m gone?”

“I just like watching the rain,” she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She had learned long ago that resistance was futile. No matter how much she tried to keep him at a distance, the bond always drew them back together.

He hummed in response, his hand trailing down to her waist, pulling her even closer. “You should have come with me,” he said. “The woods are beautiful after the rain.”

She tensed slightly in his arms. He often spoke about her leaving the cabin with him, walking through the woods together, living as though they were a normal couple. But she couldn’t. The thought of venturing out, of seeing the outside world again, only made her feel more trapped. It reminded her of everything she had lost.

“I like it here,” she said, the lie slipping from her lips so easily now.

Scoups let out a soft, satisfied sound, seemingly content with her answer. He turned her in his arms so that she was facing him, his piercing eyes locking onto hers. The intensity in them hadn’t faded over the years—if anything, it had grown stronger. His love for her, his need for her, had only deepened with time.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a tender, possessive kiss. And just like every other time, she kissed him back, the bond between them compelling her to do so. The kiss was gentle, but she could feel the fire behind it, the raw desire that always simmered beneath the surface.

When he finally pulled away, his hand caressed her cheek, his eyes searching hers with a strange mix of adoration and hunger. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice laced with a dark kind of devotion. “You know that, don’t you?”

She nodded, her throat tight, the words she wanted to say stuck behind the weight of the bond. She knew he loved her, in his own twisted way. And despite everything, despite the years of feeling trapped, she loved him back.

Whether she wanted to or not.

But deep down, beneath the bond, beneath the love that wasn’t truly her own, there was a part of her that still longed for freedom. A part of her that wondered what her life could have been like if she had never met him. If she had never been claimed by the monster who loved her so much, he had stolen her away from the world.

She was his, forever.

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solarmorrigan · 1 month ago

Text

Movie Nights

For the @steddie-spooktober day 25 prompt: Frankenstein Friday Rated: T | Words: 1514 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, outsider POV, I know the movie is over 90 years old but I didn't actually watch it myself until a month ago, so just in case there's anyone else out there who hasn't seen it, Frankenstein (1931) spoilers Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Part 3 of the Good Neighbors series

Gladys can appreciate new things. Books, television, music – the little joys to be found in new discoveries are what make life worth living. She isn’t as set in her ways as some people her age can be, but she does have her favorites.

She loves her mysteries and her thrillers above all else; the likes of Agatha Christie, Elizabeth Peters, and Arthur Conan Doyle line her shelves. She’s dipped into the genre of spies and intrigue, digging into Ian Fleming and John Le Carré. She’s even been known to appreciate a good horror film now and then.

Emphasis on “good.”

“So this is what passes for horror these days?” Gladys asks as a young man on the TV screen is sucked down into his bed, only to be spat back out as an absolute geyser of blood.

Eddie chuckles, glancing up from the screen. “Not your cup of tea?”

Gladys leans on the back of the couch, resting her arms there. She’d only come over to the boys’ apartment to see if they had a spare baking dish she could borrow; they certainly hadn’t invited her in to critique their choice of entertainment. But all the same–

“I just think they should try a little harder to really scare people. These days, it’s all shock and gore. All they have to do is shower people in blood and call it a day,” Gladys says. “I remember a time when they put real effort in.”

“Back in your day?” Eddie teases, grinning at her.

Gladys tsks, cuffing him upside the head – not hard, barely more than a tap, but he still falls sideways onto the couch with a gasp, clutching his head, and then rolls right off and onto the floor with a thump. Gladys rolls her eyes, but doesn’t bother to hide her smile at his antics.

“Hey, will this work for–” Steve exits the kitchen, a glass baking dish in his hands, and stops as his attention is almost immediately diverted to Eddie. “Why are you on the floor?”

“Gladys attacked me,” Eddie replies.

“Oh. Good for her,” Steve decides, holding up the dish again. “Will this work for you?”

“That would be fine,” Gladys says, accepting it as Steve passes it over.

“She also thinks my movie is trash,” Eddie says brightly as he levers himself back up onto the couch.

“I did not say it was trash,” Gladys says. “At worst, I said it was cheap.”

“Okay, but that’s not better,” Eddie says.

“I’m not a huge fan, either,” Steve leans in to stage whisper to Gladys, “but it makes him happy.”

“Yeah, yeah, everyone’s a critic.” Eddie rolls his eyes, then leans back a bit so he can look up at Gladys. “What would you call a good horror movie, if not the genius of Wes Craven?”

Gladys purses her lips, thinking for a moment. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever seen the classics? Dracula, The Creature from the Black Lagoon?”

Eddie lets out a thoughtful little noise, shaking his head. “Can’t say I have.”

“Well, you ought to. You’ll see where it all began, then,” Gladys says.

“And I get the feeling you’d enjoy showing us,” Eddie says, wiggling his eyebrows up at Gladys.

“’Us’? Who’s ‘us’? When did I get roped into this?” Steve asks, and Eddie reaches out to take one of his hands.

“We’re a package deal, baby, everyone knows that,” Eddie says.

“No one around here but Gladys knows that,” Steve reminds him.

“Everyone important knows that,” Eddie amends. “Anyway, what do you say, Gladys? Feel like educating a couple of horror philistines such as ourselves?”

“Well,” Gladys says slowly, “I’m sure I could come up with something.”

This is how she ends up in her armchair the following Friday night, the boys both sitting on the loveseat, all watching as the audience is warned of the frightening nature of the upcoming film playing out on the television.

“Now, this wasn’t Universal’s first horror film, and it wasn’t even the first movie adaptation of Frankenstein,” Gladys says when the opening credits come on, “but it is a bit iconic. I thought you might get a kick out of it.”

“But is it scary?” Eddie teases.

“Well, I don’t know about scary, but maybe a bit shocking. Look at it this way:” Gladys says, “it was 1931. Graverobbing and murder might seem mundane to you, but we weren’t quite as desensitized to seeing it on the screen back then.”

Steve glances over at her. “Do you remember when this came out?”

“Oh, barely.” Gladys wiggles her hand back and forth in a so-so gesture. “I certainly didn’t go to see it in the theater, I was only six or seven at the time.”

“Still, that’s pretty cool,” Steve says, and Gladys favors him with a smile.

If they aren’t altogether horrified by the movie, the boys are at least engaged, keeping up a running commentary that has even Gladys laughing. (“He had that coming,” Steve says when the monster finally catches Frankenstein’s assistant. “Yep. Rest in pieces, Fritz,” Eddie adds.) However, as they reach the midway point, the father onscreen bidding his daughter to go play with her cat while he works, Steve shifts uneasily in his seat.

“Wait, they’re not going to do anything to the cat, are they?” he asks, cutting a worried glance at Gladys.

As if the thought hadn’t occurred to him until Steve voiced it, Eddie sits up straight in his own seat. “Gladys,” he says, pointing an accusing finger at the screen, “you’re not showing us a movie where they kill a cat, are you?”

One brow raised, Gladys regards the pair of them. “You’re worried about the cat, but not the child?”

Steve scoffs. “It’s 1931, they’re not gonna kill a kid,” he says, while Eddie nods in agreement.

Both brows raised now, Gladys only gives them a little “hm,” and turns back to the screen. With some suspicion, Eddie and Steve do the same, watching as the scene unfolds.

“Oh, shit,” Steve says, taken aback as the monster tosses the little girl into the lake.

“Damn. Guess we should’ve worried about the kid, after all,” Eddie says.

“You have to have some idea of how this movie ends,” Gladys says, shaking her head. “Did you really think they’d form an angry mob over a dead cat?”

“I would,” Eddie declares, then looks down at Steve, who at some point in the last half hour had ended up tucked into Eddie’s side (when, Gladys isn’t sure, but it’s sweet; it’s a pleasant feeling knowing how comfortable the two of them are here). “Steve, would you form an angry mob with me if someone killed our cat?”

“We don’t have a cat,” Steve says.

“That’s not the point,” Eddie insists, and Steve relents.

“I would come with you if only to make sure you didn’t get yourself killed,” he decides.

“I’ll take it,” Eddie says with a shrug.

The rest of the movie plays out on the screen – the forming of the mob, the confrontation with the monster, the burning windmill, and, at last, the peaceful conclusion.

“Wait,” Eddie says, brows furrowed as he watches the end credits play, “that’s it? That’s how it ends? A toast to the house of Frankenstein, the end?”

“Yes…” Gladys says slowly. “Why? How should it end?”

“Oh, I don’t know, how about a little restitution for the guy whose daughter got murdered?” Eddie demands, shooting up out of his seat so quickly that Steve has no time to brace himself and falls sideways onto the loveseat with a little ‘oof.’ “How about a little accountability? I mean, seriously, this is just typical; some rich, entitled asshole plays around with things he can’t control, creates a problem he refuses to solve, and the poor end up being the ones to pay the price!”

“Now you’ve got him started,” Steve mutters to Gladys as he sits himself back up.

“Is there any way to get him to stop?” Gladys asks, though she’s a little fascinated with the theatrical way Eddie throws himself around the living room as he rants.

“Uh.” Steve glances over at Eddie and back away again, and there actually seems to be a little color rising in his cheeks. “Not, um…”

“Take him home first, if you’re planning to do something like that,” Gladys says primly, only to lose the fight to her laughter when Steve looks over at her, aghast.

“I wouldn’t–!” he protests indignantly, his face going redder.

“Are you guys even listening to me?” Eddie demands, turning back to face the pair of them.

Gladys declines to answer, asking instead, “Eddie, dear, how did you like the movie?”

“Oh. Aside from the ending, it was great.” Eddie drops back onto the loveseat, reaching out absently to tug Steve back over to his side. “What else ya got?”

“Well,” Gladys says, picking through the stack of tapes she’d managed to dig up at the video store. “If you like entitled rich people, let’s see how you feel about Dracula.”

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie-spooktober #Gladys is back for a special Halloween episode #also #I am not a cultural historian #I am making broad generalizations based on surface knowledge #I just wanted write a fun fic let me live #solar wrote #eddiesteve

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yoyomomiko · 1 month ago

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HALLOWEEN WRITING LIST!

This is how the list looks like for now!! I hope I can get to finish writing all of these...

-> m.list

★DEMON SLAYER

1. Tomioka x Vampire!reader

-> "More!"

2. Witch!Shinobu x reader

-> "You're not leaving."

3. Siren!Mitsuri x reader

4. Incubus!Obanai x reader

6. Werewolf!Sanemi x reader

7. Muichiro x Ghost!reader

-> "Isn't it beautiful?"

★SOUTH PARK

1. Imp!Tweek x reader

2. Craig x Cat!reader

3. Ghost!Stan x reader

4. Zombie!Kyle x reader

★HUNTER X HUNTER

1. Cat!Killua x reader

2. Vampire!Feitan x reader

-> BITE INTO ME

★yoyomiko ★miko

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a-romantics-guide-to-life · 2 months ago

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⋆⟡˚ ཐི⋆♱ 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐯𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 ♱⋆ཋྀ ˚⟡⋆

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: fred weasley x fem reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: halloween has always been magical time at hogwarts but your first all hallows eve with fred ends up being extra special

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: mentions of blood, costumes, mentions of pale skin (for a costume), mentions of blood and ooze comng out of some ones mouth (nothing too graphic)

𝐚/𝐧: happy flufftober!!! here is the first out of five weekly fics all centered around spooky season! i was very inspired by british traditions of halloween so i hope you enjoy! title is from 999 happy haunts (haunted mansion's ride song)!

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟-𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Halloween at Hogwarts was a magical time of year.

Every single year, the castle was always bright with delightful merriment and warm pumpkin candles. There was always laughter in the air as people played pranks on each other leading up to all hallows eve which also happened to be one of the mischievous nights of the entire year.

Every one would wear loud costumes, paint their faces, play pranks and cast harmless hexes at each other. The Great Hall would always be a war of pranks and debates of who had the scariest costume.

Of course, every year you and a couple other fellow Gryffindors would create a trial of bravery in the hallway leading up to the tower. It was always so fun with magic and tricks playing. Fred and George Weasley, obviously, were usually the ones to mastermind the trials. They even created a new spell to summon ghost-like figures to haunt the hallway.

Ghouls, dragons, spiders, and even hauntingly terrifying Veela were cast as the main haunts of the hallways. Well, not real ghouls or dragons, they were all the horrifying realistic spells, spell-enhanced dolls, or sometimes even students dressed up and scare those brave enough to enter the trial.

One year it was a play on the Forbidden Forest with huge spiders and frightening trolls. Somehow, the twins even got some of the frog choir to perform horror music alongside the jumpscares. Another year it was based on Azkaban and all the dark wizards and witches trapped who had seemingly escaped. That year was by far one of your favorites since you got to dress up as some lunatic witch who got to scare cowardly Slytherins shitless (although some of them did make it up the tower and got to go to the party in the common room).

It was amazing to say the least.

What was even more amazing though, was how Fred looked at you that night. Even with your hair all messy and poofy, your face painted snow white, lips dried using a spell to make you seem like you had actually just escaped the famous maximum security prison, he still surprised you, as he did everyday.

It wasn’t hard, loving Fred Gideon Weasley.

You had always felt a magnetic pull to those two boys, Fred and George. It was never a gloomy day with those two around. You had been so ecstatic that you had been sorted into Gryffindor, even if it was much to your family’s disappointment.

Fred would never forget the way your enchanting eyes had lit up as you looked straight at him from where he sat at the Gryffindor table. Your joyful smile as you sat down next to him. Not George, not next to one of the other newbie Gryffindor’s, him.

He likes to think of that moment as the moment he fell in love with you.

You had surprised him by choosing and loving him. And from a household of seven children, six boys and only one girl, it was seldom that the twins, much less Fred, had the attention of anyone else besides Ron or even George.

He vowed that from then on, he would always try to surprise you.

Just like how he surprised you in second year by always trying to make you laugh, especially when the bad times rolled around.

Just like how he surprised you in third year by gifting you one of his favorite bracelets that his grandfather had gifted him.

Just like how he surprised you in fourth year by asking you out to hang out with him at Hogsmeade, just the two of you. That day had been magical and he even walked you back to your dorm where you bid him good night with a kiss on his cheek.

Just like how he surprised you this year by kissing you in the hallway after someone dared him too.

At first you thought it was nothing, the feel of his lips against yours, the way he cradled your head so gently as he kissed you. He pulled away within a second and you looked up into his swirling amber eyes and you swore you saw something in him snap into place as he kissed you again in the hallway right outside of potions.

You would be lying if you said it wasn’t a dream come true. And a war raged in your chest telling you it was nothing more than a stupid dare. But, when he pulled away again, air filling your lungs again, the look on his face said it was more than a dare.

His whiskey eyes told you that this was all he wanted, the smile playing on his lips told you that he would do it again.

So, before he could kiss you again, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him fervently.

Fred could’ve died a happy man at that moment. He felt like he was on top of the world, all hallows eve was soon, his and your favorite time of the year, and you two were finally together.

You two felt unstoppable.

“Freddie?” His arms wind themselves around your torso tighter as his face finally leaves your hair.

“Yes, pretty lady?”

You chuckle at his horrendous pet name for you. Yet it was comforting to know that it was something just for the two of you. Even after all these years of friendship, dating Fred felt so unreal. Yet, it flowed so naturally it was akin to rivers flowing to the sea; it may have taken a while, a long winding journey, but it always made its way back home.

That’s what Fred was to you, home.

You spin around, the blankets covering you two from the frosty air of the Gryffindor tower twisting along with you. You place your hands on the fuzzy fabric warming his chest. He wore the lovely knit sweater his dearest mother made him last year. Mrs.Weasley always did have an eye for fashion you thought as your eyes trailed down Fred’s lean but broad chest where a golden embroidered F proudly signaled which of the prankster identical twins was which.

Of course, you never needed it. After all these years of friendship and youthful love, you could tell the two of them apart in a heartbeat. Fred had always been the more daring and adventuring one while George was slightly more grounded. Your boyfriend also had a mole on his right ear that always made you think it was an earring while George had a freckles on the side of his neck.

Needless to say, there were a plethora more differences between the two but that only made Fred feel more loved. To know that his girl, his bestest friend, could tell the twin apart from the other. What the real kicker was that you still loved him when everyone else couldn’t help but love “the Twins”, never just Fred or just George, “the Twins”; however, you love Fred, and that meant the world to him.

“We’re dating.”

“Mhmm, finally” He leans forward kissing your forehead gently, his eyes closed as he revels in your warmth. His hands find purchase at your hips, his fingers tickling you softly eliciting a soft chuckle from you.

“This is our first Halloween together.”

He opens his amber eyes, looking at you through his long lashes.

“Mhmmm, and what does the princess want?” He smiles, pressing a tight lipped kiss to your cheek.

You swat his chest, “Not funny. I'm being serious right now git. Like, what are we going to do this year? Couple costume? You could be Frankenstein and I’ll be his Bride. I always found those muggle horror movies especially unique. I mean, I’ve never seen, much less heard, of any kind of “Frankenstein”s in Britain so however in Merlin’s magical world did the muggles make special movies on something no one has ever seen or documented?”

He laughs as you ramble on and on about plans for Halloween mentioning how you two aren’t on the trial committee this year so you two have too much free time on your hands. You two lay there bouncing off ideas for costumes and epic pranks to play on unsuspecting Hufflepuffs and uptight Ravenclaws.

“Darling, as much as I bloody love this mischievous side of you, we really should get some sleep. We can talk about this tomorrow babe.” He sleepily groaned as he shut you up by pressing his lips into yours. You conceded, your eyes drooping as you fell prey to Fred’s warm embrace.

Maybe tomorrow will be a more productive day.

Turns out that yesterday’s tomorrow was indeed not a productive day and instead was spent lazing around the castle, taking in the air of mischief and terror that would soon flood the halls, paint the walls, and fill the air.

Even Peeves was ecstatic. He had already begun his torment on the younger students, pulling pranks messy with paint and terror-inducing scares.

Of course, being the seniors you were, Peeves let you alone seeing as he has already served you your fair share of youthful scares (although no one would ever say it to his face but you and Fred thought his “scares” were more like intense funny pranks).

The air of the castle was already spooky and playful as more and more pranks were played on fellow students and even faculty, although the poor young soul that tried to pour a potion on Professor Snape was now facing weeks worth of detention and a ban on participating in mischief, mizzy, night, forever.

As the hours passed, Halloween was only getting closer and closer; that means that you only got more and more excited for that year's festivities to start as everyone finalized all their plans for mizzy night and costumes.

Oddly enough, that meant that Fred must surely have already made plans for pranks and parties. The trial was nearly in full swing as the hallway was getting decorated with eerie lights and faux cursed items. Thundering bolts of lightning would shake the floors of the hallway, the first years would piss their pants in horror as more electrifying lightning shot down upon them.

It was bloody brilliant, Fred had to admit.

Every single student within those castle walls was so ready and excited for a wonderful night full of mischief and pranks, and an epic party in the Gryffindor common room, but Fred was most excited to surprise you. He had a naughty, but brilliant, “prank” to pull on you.

It was only a matter of time, as soon as the clock struck midnight on halloween night, then mischief would begin.

You had to admit, it was hard to trust Fred with your costume. Knowing him as well as you did, which was very very well, you knew that it could be part of another grand prank of his all just to get a kick out of you.

Of course, he may play a few tricks on you occasionally, but it was never ever to humiliate you. More to make you laugh or make you smile. Godric, one time he played a prank so unfunny that not only did you laugh from how terrible it was, he was the one to be humiliated.

So while you were a bit nervous, for good reason, you knew that you could trust Fred.

Still, the nerves like butterflies flew all around your stomach, your insides all flowery as they tickled you incessantly from inside.

Going to classes on any day is as follows, breakfast in the morning, classes then lunch where you’d eat with the twins and all complain about some bullshit divination homework from Trelawny, and then a few more classes before you and Freddie would go hangout in the Room of Requirement, then of course the day would end with supper and curfew.

Of course, Halloween at Hogwarts made everything turn upside down. You still had your classes and the mornings would still stay the same. But, you and Fred would never dare miss the Halloween feasts (neither did Ron). Plates stacked high with savory foods with a spooky twist, roast chicken made to look like a terribly large monster’s wing, corn so sharp it looked like a rotten witches teeth, and sweets so terrifyingly delicious, you had to go for round two.

But it was never the enticing sweets or the rich savory feast that made both you and Fred love the Halloween feast, it was the air. The air of the room was filled with excitement as everyone buzzed to be let out of the Great Hall and back into the dorms where they would transform into a tantalizing mermaid or perhaps a captivating Veela. Along with the costumes and dressing up, the pranks and scares would start.

Gryffindors would host the trial as Hufflepuffs start handing out candy to random passersby. Slytherins would pull scares that even shook you to your core and made you jump, and that took lots of effort. Ravenclaws would usually stick to just the feast, opting to go back to their dorms to study but some would still dress up and go out, usually keeping to themselves as they assess the trial and lounge about at the Gryffindor party.

It also meant that Fred would finally unveil what he had been working tirelessly on for what he likes to call his “most epic halloween plan, ever.”

“Okay, so darling, you’ll be wearing this, ta da!” Fred exclaimed. He held out a box to you that had no doubt been sitting underneath his bed for Godric knows how long.

You took the box gingerly, lifting the worn and dusty lid to reveal a pristine delicate dress. The crimson velvet felt silky and soft underneath the pads of your fingers as you ran your hands over the delicate dress. There was dainty black lace outlining the chest and hip area, an intricately gothic pattern woven into the crushed velvet. You lifted the dress up to your front in astonishment, noticing the layers that made the skirt slightly full. You shifted to look at yourself in the mirror, noting how the dress would cling to your curves, accentuating your silhouette with the dark red fabric and deep black lace.

You look at Fred through the mirror, his eyes a dark and deep swirling amber. He walked up to you, hands holding the velvet at your hips, his lips falling to your shoulder.

You turn around to look up at him, “Fred, this dress is beautiful, where did you get this? Why?”

He kisses you softly, taking the dress and laying it down on the bed, the velvet matching the dark red of the Gryffindor blankets.

“My aunt knows somebody who knows one of the oldest dress makers in Paris. Turns out that exact dress maker was also in the market for a really good love potion so my aunt got me in touch with her and we made an exchange. I'm just glad that the parcel made it in time because Errol is not known for being speedy.” He smiles gently, as you wrap your arms tightly around his torso, crushing your face to his chest, hugging him tightly.

“Thank you so much Fred, really.”

“Baby, it was nothing. Besides, that’s not all there was in the box.”

You squeal, shooting out of his arms rushing to dig through the box. You find a pair of dainty see-through gloves and…. fake teeth?

“Love, um, thank you for the new teeth, really but mine are just fine.”

He laughs sitting down on the couch, taking the sharp teeth out of your hands putting them next to his wide smile. You giggle and sit down next to him.

“Darling, there for your costume. I was thinking that you could be a vampire and I’ll be a werewolf.” He fake howls at the moon, eliciting a hearty laugh from you.

“Freddie, you do know there are much easier glamour spells for cosmetics and such right?”

You two had finally finished getting ready. You were wearing the elegant velvet dress, a black belt also loosely hanging around your hips, necklaces hung from your neck and pearl earrings adorning your ears. You left your hair down, changing the color to a dark red, pairing the whole look with dark red lips, the red smudged around your lips like blood, and a pair of seductive heels.

Unconsciously, your eyes searched the wild crowd of zombies and demons for a certain redhead. Fred had kicked you out of the room after he had finished helping you cast glamour spell after glamour spell. Your teeth were now as sharp as could be and your skin pale like the dead.

The butterflies from earlier today flew back in, your stomach fluttering as you nervously started to walk around the common room looking and smiling at everyone. Some came up to you, admiring your dress.

Suddenly the dim lights of the crowded common room went out leaving many, most of them younger, squealing in excitement and fear. The lights flickered as music started to play. In the middle of the room is where you saw them.

Fred and George standing on a circular table in the middle of the room, hyping up the crowd. They both wore plaid loose flannel and tight pants that accentuated their height. Fred’s eyes met yours and the familiar glimmer of trouble swarmed his eyes.

The nervous butterflies that flooded your blood soon turned to spinet dragons of excitement as your blood hummed in your veins.

“HAPPY HALLOWEEN HOGWARTS, WHAT A NIGHT!!!”

Cheers erupted as George started yelling into the crowd.

“AND WHAT A NIGHT WE HAVE PLANNED FOR YOU, IT'LL BE A BLOODY BRILLIANT FRIGHT!!”

Your boyfriend shouted, looking right at you as he said fright. You smirked, surprising Fred as you mouthed…

“Try me.”

Fred felt his heart face as your delicately painted and smudged lips worded a silent challenge. He smirked and announced

“Let the games BEGIN!”

The room erupted into cheers as the twins drank some sort of potion. And within the minute, they started to choke and black ooze started to bubble out their mouths. Many gasped, backing away. Your heart leaped out of your chest as you rushed to the front.

That’s when you heard a blood-curdling scream from one of the third years. You rushed to see that the black ooze had turned a crimson red and the twins started to wake, their eyes wild and red. Snarls came out of their mouths as they jumped up and ripped their shirts open only to reveal a full chest of hair, much like werewolves. They started howling, jumping up on the table.

Their feet on the wood thundered through the room as everyone started cheering them on, some squeals even.

Fred smiled softly, reaching his hand out to you. You take his hand, stepping up onto the table. His strong arms pull you to him, cupping your cheek trapping you into a savage kiss. Hollers and whistles were heard in the room, Fred pulled away from you for a minute, admiring your pale skin and your deep red lips before pulling you to him again.

“I gave you a real fright there, didn’t I, darling?” He smiled, looking down at you as the chaos and revelry started once more with screams of joy and terror.

“Sure, a really terrifying prank there. I was more concerned about the black ooze staining the table and Professor McGonagall yelling at us.” You smiled.

“Admit it love, you were bloody terrified for me.” He smirked, you looked away to look at all the smiles and smirks around the room. Halloween truly was the best.

“Of course I was terrified for you, I love you,” you kiss him, cupping his slightly stubbled cheek; no doubt a side effect of the potion, “git.”

thank you so much for reading! hope you enjoyed! also pls pls pls let me know if i forgot to tag something triggering because i feel i always do! thank you!

#emi's flufftober 2024 #emi’s halloween special #flufftober #halloween #all hallows eve #mischief night #as the brits call it #spooky season #haunted mansion influenced this HEAVILY #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasely x y/n #fred wealsey fic #harry potter #emi sanity

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