#I HOPE EVERYONE HAD A GREAT HALLOWEEN!!!!

[mytherapyisreading14]

Halloween

Summary: Halloween is just around the corner and it finally brings you closer to Spencer

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: Fluff

Author’s Note: I have on idea why this came to my mind during Christmas but here we are, I hope you still enjoy it!

“So, do you already have a costume idea?” Garcia asks as I come in. She insisted that the team celebrates Halloween together after finding out that none of us planned anything special that day. “Not yet. But Spence and I wanted to make pumpkin muffins, we'll bring them with us,” I tell her. "Making muffins, how boring. You should make out instead. In the kitchen. No wait, in the kitchen after making muffins,” Garcia says excited and grins.

"Who’s making out in the kitchen?" Morgan asks as he comes around the corner. "Reid and her,” Garcia says. "What? Pretty boy and pretty girl finally make out?" he asks in disbelief. „Shh, he can arrive any moment. And no, we didn’t make out,” I tell Morgan. „Boring,” he says and I roll my eyes at him.

When I started at the BAU, I spent a lot of time with Spencer from the beginning. I loved listening to his ramblings, he taught me to play chess and we always talked about our favorite books and movies. We started to hang out together and over the time, my crush got worse and worse. Eventually I was head over heels in love with him before I could stop it. But I’m too afraid to tell him because we've been friends for so long, even though the others think he's just as in love as I am.

“Why don’t you ask him if he wants to make a partner costume with you?” Gracia asks me. “Babygirl, you always have the best ideas,” Morgan says and I smile. “Why didn't I think of it myself? The idea is great!” I agree. “Oh that’s gonna be so good,” Gracia says when the door opens and Spencer comes in with a coffee and a bag from my favorite bakery.

“Good morning,” he says and hands me the bag. “I heard that they make pumpkin donuts because of Halloween, so I brought you one. It’s from your favorite bakery,” he says and smiles. Morgan and Gracia look at each other and grin. “Oh wow, thank you so much! Did you try them too?” I ask him.

He shakes his head. “Then we have to try it together!” I say and reach for the donut and hand it to him. "Just take a bite. It doesn't bother me." He nods and takes a bite of the donut. “They’re really good,” he says and gives me a thumbs up and a smile. I take a bite of the donut too. “Oh wow, I think I've found my new favorite pastry for autumn,” I say with my mouth full of the donut and Spencer smiles again. “I’m glad you like it.” He looks so cute, I just want to kiss him.

“Hey lovebirds, you're not here to feed each other pumpkin donuts, there's still a lot of paper work waiting for you,” Derek says and points to the large stacks on our tables. Spencer turns red and turns away quickly to hide it. I sigh and reach for the first file, Morgan is right, the work doesn't do itself. And we should use the time before we get called away due to a new case.

-

Half a dozen paper files later, we’re finally done with our work. My head is spinning and even though I've had much more stressful days at work, I'm totally exhausted. Emily and JJ finished work half an hour ago. Rossi is still in Hotch's office to discuss a case and Spencer is just finishing up his last bit of work. I wanted to wait for him so I could ask him about the costume.

He packs up all his things and after saying goodbye to everyone we make our way to the elevator. "Spence, do you already have a costume for the Halloween party? I don't really know what to do yet," I ask to steer the conversation in the right direction. “Not yet, I have some ideas but haven't really decided yet. But I wouldn't tell you anyway, I want it to be a surprise," he says and grins.

“I, um, I was thinking we could, you know, maybe we could make a partner costume?" I ask him and blush. “Oh wow, that’s a great idea! Did you have any couple - uh I mean partner costumes in mind? Since we’re, I mean, since we’re just going as friends,” he says. He’s nervous now too. “To be honest, I don't have any ideas yet. But I will think about it, we'll come up with something eventually. I mean, we still have time left until it’s Halloween,” I say and smile. “Right,” he says and we leave the building and go over to the parking lots.

“Do you need a ride home?” I ask him and Spencer shakes his head. “I'm here by car too but thank you anyway,” he says. “Well then I'll see you tomorrow. And thanks again for the donut,” I say and unlock my car. He smiles and blushes again. He looks so cute, especially when he blushes. "You’re welcome, I'm glad you liked it. See you tomorrow then,” he says and gets into his car too. Before I leave, I send Garcia a quick message. "He agreed!! :)" She answers immediately. "I can hardly wait. I'm excited to see your costume." I smile. Hopefully the time until Halloween will pass quickly. I can hardly wait.

-

Almost two weeks later the time had finally come. I'm just waiting all morning for the time to pass. Spencer wanted to come early in the afternoon so that we have enough time to make the muffins and then get ready together afterwards.

Last week, after some back and forth, we finally decided on a costume. At my request, we watched Suicide Squad on one of our weekly movie nights. Then the idea came to me to go as Harley Quinn and Joker. Reid wasn't entirely convinced at first, but he couldn't say anything against my argument that he has the perfect hair length and after seeing me so excited, he agreed. We planned our costumes and after a while he got just as excited as I am.

To make time go by faster, I clean my whole apartment again and prepare everything for the pumpkin muffins. Time passes painfully slow but eventually it’s finally 4 o‘clock and the doorbell rings. My heart automatically starts beating faster and I rush to the door. “Hello, I bought us pumpkin donuts, today is the last day they have them,” he greets me. “Hey Spence, thank you so much! I’m really gonna miss them, they made my Halloween time even more sweet. Especially since you always brought them to me.” He blushes, takes off his shoes and we go into the kitchen.

“I've already started to prepare a few things for the muffins. Then we'll have more time to get ready later,” I explain to him. “That’s good, thank you. You have to help me with my makeup anyway, I don't think I can do it that well,” he says and I nod. "No problem, I can do it. Did you get the green hairspray?" I ask him. He nods. "The last bottle, I was lucky.” He goes over to the sink to wash his hands. I turn on some music and we start baking.

I keep snacking on the dough all the time and Spencer just shakes his head laughing. “We won't have anything left for the muffins if you keep on eating all the dough,” he says. “I know, but it just tastes soo good,” I exclaim and take some more.

-

2 hours later the muffins are all ready and decorated. I put them on the balcony so that they can cool down while Spencer goes in the bathroom to change into his costume. We haven't seen each other's costumes yet, even though we know what it will look like. I go into my room and take my costume out of the closet.

I keep getting stuck in my fishnet tights but manage to put them on after what feels like forever. When I'm finally finished, I look at myself in the mirror again. My shorts are not covering that much but honestly I don't care. I want to driver Spencer crazy tonight. I quickly put my hair in two ponytails and take all my makeup with me into the living room. I'm going to do Spencer's makeup first before I finish getting ready.

He's struggling with the hair dye bottle when I come out. He looks up and his gaze wanders over me. "Wow, you look perfect - I mean the costume. Not that you aren't perfect too, but the costume fits you perfectly. That's what I meant,” he says. I have to hold back my laughter. That's off to a good start already. “Your costume is amazing too, Spence. Purple suits you,” I say and take the bottle out of his hand to open it.

“Do you want me to put it on?” I ask him and he nods. “A little help wouldn’t be bad. But if you want you can get ready first,” he says. “No, I will help you with your hair and make up and then it’s my turn. I can still put on make-up quickly even under stress,” I tell him. "I don't want you to be stressed because of me,” he says. "Don't worry, I’m not,” I tell him and point to the couch for him to sit down.

“Hair or make up first?” I ask him. “Make up,” he says and I reach for my bag. I take two clips so I can keep his hair out of his face. I giggle when I see him like this and quickly take a picture. “Hey, you're supposed to do my makeup, not taking pictures," Spencer interjects with a laugh and tries to take my phone away from me. But I'm quicker and let it disappear back into my pocket. "Sorry but I had to, you just look so cute with the clips,” I say before I reach for the makeup.

I'm really close to his face and it makes me nervous, especially because he's looking into my eyes the whole time. He has the most beautiful brown eyes I have ever seen. I get lost in them for a moment but then I tear my gaze away from his eyes and focus on applying the makeup. I lean further forward to get a better look before I start applying it but I stumble and lose my balance, falling straight into Spencer's arms.

I turn bright red and try to stand up while straddling Spencer's lap. His hands are on my hips because he tried to catch me. Our faces almost touch and my heart is beating faster than ever. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I just lost my balance, I had to lean so far forward so I could see -“ I begin to explain myself but Spencer interrupts me by taking my face in his hands and kissing me.

For a second I'm overwhelmed by the situation because I didn't expect it at all but then I kiss him back immediately. The kiss is gentle and I run my fingers through his hair and briefly break away from the kiss to take out the clips because they are annoying at the moment. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Spencer admits, pulling me even closer to him. “Me too, Spence,” I say, leaning forward to kiss him once more. His hand are gently roaming over my body. I craved this feeling, having him to this close to me, for a long time now.

We keep kissing and after a while I pull away from him. "We should continue to get ready now, otherwise we'll be way too late. The others will tease us all evening then. And this time, rightly so." I say and grin. "I'm afraid that's not possible. I never want to stop kissing you,” Spencer simply says and places another kiss on my mouth. “You only have to stop for now. You can keep kissing me when we’re all ready,” I tell him and play with his hair.

He looks in my eyes and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. He suddenly seems a bit nervous and I nudge him. "What's wrong?" I ask him. “Do you, uh... I mean, should we, uh... I mean, I need to know, do you want to be my girlfriend? Because that's what I want. For long time. Since I first saw you, to be more exact. So I want to know if you want that too, because then we have to think about telling the others and -“ he starts with a faint blush on his cheeks but I cut him off by gently placing a finger on his lips.

“Of course I want that Spencer. I always wanted that. I've been head over heels in love with you ever since you sat next to me on the jet my first day and stated me 1000 statistics about absolutely everything imaginable. I wanted to listen to you forever,” I tell him. He smiles and pulls me into his arms. “I love you. So much that I don't want to let you go just yet. What do you say, kissing and cuddling for 10 more minutes?" he asks me and grins. “You are impossible. And unfortunately also irresistible. Okay, 10 more minutes before we get ready. I love you, my pretty genius.” I say and tap him on the nose before I lean forward and kiss him once more.

[starrypawu]

Happy halloween!!!🎃🦇

[egophiliac]

can't believe that skeleman has turned on us, and Halloween Prom is tomorrow.

(what a top-tier UM...we are about to be just totally obliterated in the absolute silliest way. what possible use could this power have outside of bringing us to the brink of utter holiday disaster.)

[cultfic]

does any1 remember follow forever posts . . 🤘

[xstarrynitex]

i felt sick as hell last night so here’s my costume

(it’s homura!!)

ignore the baby pictures lol

[myososheep]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

[hyaciiintho]

🌸｡*ﾟ+. Jesus, that scared the shit out of me-- I'm glad I'm at least basically familiar with One Piece, or I'd be freaking out like why is there a clown on the side of my screen ??

To anyone who has a fear of clowns, please stay off of desktop !! It's a marketing move for the Netflix One Piece thing, but it doesn't look like it's on mobile (I don't think it is...?).

Stay safe, friends ;; ;;

[rosenclaws]

The Wolverine and His Bunny || Logan Howlett x Bunny Girl!Reader

summary: You and Logan have always butted heads and his constant, condescending reminders of your mutation don't help. It's not until your forced to train together and well, the tension is undeniable

warnings: MINORS DNI, SMUT, 18+ ONLY, fem!reader, rough sex, a variety of bunny themed nicknames (Bunny, thumper, carrots), creampie, manhandling, pain kink (Logan), doggy style, dirty talk, blow job, mirror sex, slight choking, degradation, praise, he plays with your bunny ears oops, enemies to lovers kinda? Logan's a dick at first, teasing, being pinned down.

Don't like it don't read it :)

Halloween Masterlist

wc: 3.7k

a/n: Okay look, I thought this was hot and so I wrote it. Anyways happy October first everyone! Hoping to add my degeneracy to the long list of fics to come. This also ended up being more. angsty than i mean it to be. I think I have an angst problem oops

You hated him so much. He was. He was just a massive dick for no reason and you hated people like that. You get that he was the all mighty Wolverine who was indestructible or whatever but if he could act like a normal person for once in his life that would be great.

He wasn't even the leader of the damn team and yet every one seemed to act like he walked on fucking water. It's not like he was the only one on the team either. He may tell everyone he's a loner and he doesn't need help but we're the X-Men. Not just Wolverine.

It's just not fair.

You had the perfect plan. Planned down to the very second and Logan had to go and fuck it all up. Maybe it was an honest mistake but you highly doubted it. He always had a problem with you. You didn't understand why. The moment you showed up to the mansion he was hostile. Calling you stupid, condescending nicknames because of your mutation while ignoring the part of it that made you super smart.

You were fuming when the team got back from the mission. You stormed right past everyone to get to Logan. They shoot you apologetic looks but you paid them no mind.

"Logan!"

"What's got your panties in a twist bunny?" He leans against the jet hangar door. A cigar already lit in his mouth.

"Don't call me that asshole!" You shove his chest but he doesn't move. Your nose twitching in anger as he just laughs.

"I had a plan Logan. A good plan. A perfect. Plan. So tell me why as soon as you had the chance to, you ruined it!" He scoffs and blows a puff of smoke in your face. Your ears flatten against your head as you wave the smoke away.

"We finished the mission didn't we?." He says with a smirk. If this were a cartoon you'd surely have steam coming out of your ears by now.

"God you're nothing but a slimy little weasel sometimes!" You push your finger into his chest. He pushes your hand away and bares his teeth like an animal.

"You have no idea what it's like to actually be on the field so why don't you tuck your little tail between your legs and run back to the lab."

"Logan! That's enough." Jean scolds him harshly as you turn around and storm out of the room.

You feel tears welling up in your eyes but you force them down. Fuck him, you were an important part of the team. Whether he liked it or not.

It's like he lived to torture you. Ever since the day you told him off he seemed to just. appear. Constantly. Wherever you were he was there too. In the kitchen? He strolls right in for a soda. In the training room? He's already there. All sweaty and grunting and gross. You're outside near the water fountain, guess who strolls right on up. It was like he was stalking you or something.

Your ears perk up as you hear footsteps approaching your classroom. You taught most of the high level classes, the advanced ones for students who wished for more academic classes. So their tests were more complex to grade which is why you were still here so late into the night. Your nose twitches as a familiar scent fills your nose. Without even looking you let out a long sigh.

"What do you want weasel?"

"Now that's not very nice of you." Logan says with a smirk as he sits in the chair across from your desk. He puts his feet up on your desk. Right on top of the stack of papers.

"Can't you go bother someone else? Please. Like anyone else." He grins and you roll your eyes.

"But I just love your company." His voice is dripping with playful sarcasm.

"You're going to work yourself to death carrots. It's not good for you." The truth is he came to try and apologize for the other day but he just hasn’t found the right time. Okay well there’s been good times but he was never able to get the words out. So here he is trying his best.

He stands up and leans over your desk. You have to admit he's certainly an overwhelming presence. His face is inches away from yours, eyes staring into your soul with a wolfish grin on his face. He picks the pen out of your hand and throws it over his shoulder.

"Why not take the stick out of your ass and have a little fun?" Wow, for a second there you almost thought he cared.

"You know what Logan, just leave me alone."

"You know I'm trying to be nice here and all I'm catching is attitude." He growls. You slam your hands on the desk and stand up. Getting close to his face as your ears flatten. "

Nice? You think you're being nice?" You laugh in his face and he pushes back. Papers fly everywhere.

"Fine, work yourself to death I don't fucking care." He storms out of your room and slams your door loudly.

"Asshole!" You yell back. You turn back to see the mess of papers and sigh. Great, now your night got even longer. Logan mutters angrily as he stalks through the halls. So much for trying.

It's been at least a couple weeks since that night with Logan and thankfully he's finally decided to leave you alone. You barely saw him and in a weird way, you kind of missed him. Kind of. Barely. In fact you really enjoyed the peace. Your ears definitely didn't perk up when you heard Logan's voice on the other side of Professor Xavier's office. You push through the door and find Logan looking very pissed off.

"You wanted to see me?" You glance over at Logan who was fuming silently.

"Yes, I think it's time you join the team. On the field." You widen your eyes in surprise. You never considered yourself to be a field agent. Your mutation wasn't exactly built for combat. You were speedy but that's about it. Strategy and smarts were much more your speed.

"I think bringing you out on the field would be an immense help to your battle tactics. As Logan so kindly put it, being on the field is different from watching on the outside." You flash back to the harsh words Logan had said to you a while ago.

Logically it would be helpful for you to observe what missions were like first hand but you don't think you needed to be there. Still to get yourself a suit and be part of the team sounded nice too.

"And since it was his idea, Logan will be your instructor."

"What?!"

"Absolutely not." Charles gives you both a look, one that said to quiet down and you both reluctantly listen.

"I am not a fool,  the two of you need to learn to work together. My decision is final." His tone leaves no room for argument and the two of you leave with scowls on your face.

"Alright thumper, here’s how it’s going to go. Tomorrow. 7am in the training room. Think you can handle it?” He places his hand near your head. You roll your eyes and duck under his hand.

“Yeah yeah, see you then Weasel.”

It feels like this was meant to be a punishment more than an assignment. You get that you and Logan haven’t. exactly gotten along but to stick you together like this? That’s just mean. You showed up right at 7am the next morning dressed in workout clothes. Logan is already there dressed in his little gray sweatshirt, white tank top and sweatpants.

“So you didn’t run away? Good bunny.” He smirks as your face scrunches up in anger.

“Fuck off.” You’re already dreading this. If you could just survive an hour then you could never deal with him again.

"Okay, show me what you got." He stands in the center of the mat. Arms at his side with an expectant look on his face.

"What?"

"I heal bunny, so give me all you got. I need to see what I'm working with here." You take a deep breath and launch an attack.

You weren't helpless by any means but you weren’t on the same level as Logan, even you could admit that. He barely flinched as you darted around the room. Striking him in a few places but he just stood there. It was starting to piss you off. You get that you weren’t the fiercest but he could at least try and fucking help instead of wearing you out like this. You look around the room and see wooden poles used for combat training. He never said you had to just use your hands. You dart across the room and grab one, swinging it hard against his back. To your surprise it completely breaks. Shattering on impact. He grabs the broken half that’s left in your hands and pulls it out of them.

“That’s cheating,”

“No it’s not. I was just using my resources.” He laughs and grabs your wrist. He slowly backs you up until you hit the wall.

“Oh yeah? What you’re gonna find a really big stick out in the field?” He mocks.

“This is useless.” He lets go and walks away from you.

You feel anger bubbling up in your chest. You don’t belong. You’re useless. What good are you to the X-Men? You are sick and tired of hearing shit like this all the fucking time and Logan was the worst about it. You launch yourself at him. Running as fast as you can and jumping on his back. It blindsides him, he tumbles to the ground. He grunts as you start to hit his back hard.

“What is your fucking problem!” He pushes you off and you wince as you hit the mat. You scramble away before he can get up and jump back onto him. Legs straddling his waist as you push his shoulders.

“Why do you hate me so much?! What did I do to you?!” You take a swing and hit him square in the jaw. He looks surprised but shakes it off easily. He doesn’t fight back, more in shock than angry at this point.

“I get that I don’t have metal claws and I can’t move stuff with my mind but I’m part of the team too!” You swing your fist again but he catches it this time. He grabs your other one and pushes you to the ground roughly.

“Fuck off!” You hiss as he crawls on top of you. He’s heavier than a fucking boulder as he practically pins you to the ground.

“No you shut up and fucking listen.” He growls. He still has your hands pinned to the floor. An almost animalistic look on his face.

“You are so infuriating, everything about you drives me fucking crazy. So pretty, so smart, so easy to rile up.” He purrs. Your body feels like it’s on fire. What the hell is he even talking about?

“I say things without thinking sometimes but you, you make it so hard. Always running your mouth.” You squirm under him, trying to get free.

Then. He moans. He fucking moans.

You stop moving and stare up at him in surprise. Then you feel something hard against your stomach. Oh. He’s hard.

“No fucking way.” You say with a smirk. He may be on top of you but right now it feels like you have all the power here.

“Don’t tell me you were an absolute dick because you liked me?” He doesn’t deny it. Instead pressing you harder into the mat.

“Shut up.”

“Couldn’t handle your feelings so you decided to tease me like a fucking schoolboy.” You laugh and try and move your arms but he doesn’t budge.

“You know what I think, I think you need to lose the attitude carrots, I think a nice good fuck would do you good.” You scoff at his words.

“And you think you’re the one to do that? You couldn’t make a girl cum if your life depended on it, Weasel.”

“Is that a challenge bunny? Come on, say it.” He’s hot and horny but he’s giving you a way out.

If you tell him to fuck off he’ll leave and you both can forget about it, but if you don’t. If you say you want this. Well he’ll finally shut you up like he’s been dreaming about. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you. He’s breathing heavy like an animal and you’re studying his every move. Was this a bad idea? Probably. But you couldn’t deny that Logan was hot and right now all you wanted was to suck him off until he was milked dry. Shit.

“You can try, but I bet you won’t even last a minute.” He practically pounces on you. His face is buried in your neck as his hips grind against yours. You gasp as he bites your neck harshly. Eyes fluttering shut as he kisses it better.

“Dreamed of this, my bunny all wet and needy for me.” He nibbles up to your ears. Practically purring at how soft they feel.

“Not your bunny yet.” You bite back. He lets go of your wrists and sits up on his knees. He rips open your bra without the least bit of resistance. Mouth drooling as he stares at your tits.

“Fuck me.” He mutters as he harshly gropes your chest.

His thumb flicks over your nipple and you let out a squeak of pleasure. The last thing you wanted was for him to get an ego but fuck the way his hands feel on you is just so good. They’re rough and calloused and he is relentless in his movements. You almost whine when he stops playing with them, already missing his touch. He sheds his tank top, leaving him in all his muscled glory.

“Like what you see?” He asks cockily as he takes his pants off too.

“You fucking wish.” You mutter unconvincingly. You take your nails and rake them down his chest making him moan.

“You like a little pain don’t you.” You tease, digging your nails into his skin harder.

“Maybe I do.” You yelp as he shreds your pants and underwear to shreds.

“Those were fucking expensive asshole-Fuck!” You gasp as he buries his face into your cunt. His hands locked on your thighs, moving isn’t an option as he practically inhales your cunt.

“Smells so sweet, can always smell you bunny but up close is just. So much better.” You feel yourself start to melt under his rough hold. He’s absolutely overwhelming.

“Maybe later I’ll finally get a taste but right now I think I need to put your mouth to better use.” He pulls you up onto your knees. Stroking his cock as he pushes you down. Shit he’s big but you don’t even react, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“Come on bunny, open up. Be a good girl for me.” Fuck him if he thinks he’s going to be in charge here. You smirk and take him as far down as you can.

“Fuck!” He hisses, not prepared for you to do that.

“Fuck slow down.” There's a hint of desperation in his voice and you feel a sense of pride. You pull back and spit on his cock. Using your hand you coat it, looking him right in the eyes as you roughly move your hand along his cock.

“I think you need a lesson too,” His eyes roll to the back of his head as you take as much of him as you can.

Choking as the tip hits the back of your throat. You are unrelenting, eating up every little desperate sound that’s coming from his lips. Not so tough now are you Logan you think as you feel him twitching in your mouth. He’s so damn close and its driving him wild. You feel a heavy hand bunch your ears and pull you off.

“As much as I want to come down your throat and watch you swallow it all…” He wipes some drool off your face as talks.

“I need to be inside that cunt.” Then he grabs your face and kisses you, actually kisses you. You’re startled at first but melt into it. His lips are rough and he smells so much like tobacco and whiskey but fuck its intoxicating. He’s big, rough, and so fucking hot.

“You’re soaking wet bunny.” He taunts as he cups your cunt with his hands.

“I bet you’re just aching to be filled. Don’t worry, I can help.” He manhandles you with his crazy strength till you're on your knees facing the mirrors.

“See, you’re just shaking with anticipation.” He grins wickedly as he cups your face and forces you to look into the mirror.

He’s not wrong. He’s big and you can feel his cock nudging its way into your cunt. You’re panting, hair a mess. His hand looks so good around your neck and he looks even more delicious. Your vision blurs as he slides himself inside of you. The air is knocked out of your lungs as you feel nothing but Logan. Head up in the fucking clouds as he gives you a moment to relax, whispering sweet words to help ground you back to earth.

“Is your dick inside of me the only way to get you to be nice?” You ask breathlessly. Logan grunts, not happy that you’re still able to speak beyond moaning his name.

“I can be nice, I can be real nice.” He slides out of you at a slow, agonizing pace before thrusting harshly back in. You claw at the mat as he sets a brutal pace. In and out. Slow and hard. Pulling desperate sounds from the depths of your throat.

“Logan please!” You beg, you need him so bad. Need to feel him, need him to rearrange your fucking guts. “

So polite, now that’s more like it.” He leans in and kisses your neck roughly.

Claiming you as his own in his own animalistic way. He would tease you, continue to pull you apart on his cock for hours if he could. But the truth is he needed you. A deep carnal desire to render you completely fucked out. He leans back, pulling your back to his chest. He guides your hands to his arm.

“Hold on bunny.” Your nails sink deep into his skin, drawing blood as he sets a brutal pace.

Pounding into you so hard you see stars. Fucking hell super human strength and stamina really is a gift. He coos in your ear when he notices you starting to slump in his arms. Your legs burned, he was reducing you to a puddle of nothing.

“You okay pretty? Feel too good doesn’t it.” You nod, words not forming in your brain anymore.

All you feel is pure bliss and Logan feels a surge of pride in being the one to do this. You catch his gaze in the mirror. His eyes filled with pure, raw lust. His face was twisted in focus, brows furrowed and mouth slightly open. His muscles were bulging with every move. You couldn’t stop yourself from look. Watching as he buried his cock into you.

“I know you’re close, it’s okay. I got you bunny.” One of his hands slips down between your legs. He draws tight, harsh circles on your clit making you cry. You’re squirming wildly, it feels too good. His fingers are too much but you don’t want him to stop.

“Shh, that’s it. Just relax.” He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as you come hard.

Your legs can’t stop shaking. Logan tightens his grip on you, keeping you up right as he fucks into you hard. Chasing his own release, thrusting wildly and you fucking swear he whimpers as he stills his hips deep inside. Filling you up and then some. It’s a real shame when he pulls you, an empty feeling overtaking you. He loosens his grip and you almost face plant onto the mat.

“Logan..” You whine and he helps maneuver you to your back.

“Sorry carrots, didn’t mean to let you fall.”

“Don’t call me carrots.” You mumble, still completely exhausted.

“Okay, whatever you say, carrots.” You huff as Logan helps you stand up.

Your clothes are completely ruined but he somehow finds some extra sets of clothes in the closet. When did he even get up? Maybe you were still a little lost.

“Hey, you okay?” He cups your face gently. A slight look of worry in his face.

“Aw, you do care.” You tease. He rolls his eyes but doesn’t let go of you.

“I always cared.”

“Had a real shit way of showing it.” You snort and he just smiles softly.

“Yeah. Guess I did.” To your embarrassment you still can’t exactly walk right. Luckily Logan is right by your side. You mentally prepare yourself to tell people you hurt your leg or something when they ask why you’re limping so bad.

“I still don’t know what I did to make you hate me.” You say quietly as you reach your dorm room. He sighs and gently plays with your ears. It tickles.

“I don’t hate you, I never did. I just. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” He can’t articulate just why he acted the way he did. He wants to, he really does but it just. Doesn’t come out. There's a long history of pain and loss and while you want to know why, an apology is certainly a start.

“Thank you,” He smiles softly, then realizes he’s probably overstayed his welcome. As if you two weren’t fucking in the training room less than 10 minutes ago.

“Do you want to stay?” He hesitates, unsure if this is truly what you want. If this line is ready to be crossed.

“You owe me for ruining my clothes. Just one nap.” He relents, it’s easy when you’re looking at him like that.

“Okay bunny. Just one nap.” He shuts the door behind him, crawling into bed with you.

He feels a rumble in his chest as he sinks into your bed. You’re soft and it feels like he’s meant to be here. You fall asleep quick, body aching and practically screaming for you to sleep. Logan stays awake for a while, just okay with being here. Just one nap he tells himself. 

He’s lying. It’s never going to be just one nap.

[darnell-la]

heyyy love your writings, pervy old man!logan fucking reader with her Halloween costume on 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

note: we already know what masked man Logan was for Halloween. He couldn’t help but match with y/n before he acted on his pervy thoughts.

———

“What are you gonna be tonight?” Logan asked y/m who had just walked into the kitchen he’d a couple of minutes ago. “Oh, me? Just a college girl. Maybe with a few rips and blood splatters. Not much,” she said as she poured herself a drink.

“And you? You don’t seem like the kind to like Halloween,” y/n snickered, and she was right. The man had never participated in the years he’s been here, but this year, something made him want to. She made him want to, but not for the party. It was something deeper.

“Don’t know, maybe a killer,” Logan plainly said, not wanting to make it seem like he cared so much, but he did. Now he knew he could be a killer who stalked and terrified students in some movies. Something to match y/n without them planning to.

“Sounds scary,” Y/n smiled, a bit happy that he decided to participate. Storm and the others told her he would never. This was Y/n’s first year here, so she hoped he changed his mind.

The night has been great so far. The music was loud, the food was good, and the drinks were strong, yet sweet. Y/n loved her new home.

“Where’s Logan?” Y/n asked the crew as she entered the kitchen to get another drink. “Either in his room or outside to take a smoke,” Storm said, making y/m frown. She really thought he’d participate this year.

“Yeah, and he begged smoking far away from the school. Don’t feel like smellin’ that cigar shit,” Scott said. “Most likely he is. Hey! Maybe if you got talk to him, he’ll party with us,” Jean said, making the others agree.

“And why is that?” Y/n genuinely asked at the crew laughed. “You’re so clueless, I don’t get it,” Hank said. “She’ll see sooner or later, let’s just hope for the best,” Storm told the others.

Y/n sighed as she walked away and made her way to Logan’s room. “Logan,” Y/n knocked on his door once before it cracked. It was unlocked. “Logan?” Y/n asked more confused as she stepped in.

Y/n looked around until she noticed a basket in his bed. The basket was filled with dark red roses as the stems had been spray painted black. In the basket was a note that read “Whoever sees this first, keep the basket. I’m outside taking a smoke,”

“Of course he is,” Y/n said to himself as she walked out of his room answering made her way outside the mansion. It was dark and a bit cold. Especially for the outfit she was wearing.

She had on a mini skirt that had thong strings attached. Her uniform shirt was tight which showed every curve on her. Some spots on her costume were ripped while other spots had blood splatter.

“Logan!?” Y/n yelled out as she walked through the woods where he usually takes his smoke so Scott wouldn’t complain about the strong and disgusting smell. Surprisingly, y/n didn’t smell that smell like usual when she came to get Logan for dinner.

“Logan? I just wanted to ask if you wanted to take shots with me. I already drank a lot, and everyone else is tapping out,” y/n snickered, knowing she and Logan were the ones who drank the most.

“Logan?” Y/n asked again, but more concerned. Where would he be on this day and at this time? He’s not in his room, and she’s walking a bit further than where he usually smokes.

She felt more off, now that she thought Logan wasn’t out there. Now she’s deep in the woods by herself, in the dark. She hated the dark. She hated the woods. She hated being alone and no one could hear her if she were to get hurt.

Y/n jumped with a scream as she heard a noise behind her. “Logan!?” She called when she saw nothing. “L-Logan, please — I-I know it’s Halloween, and you’re supposed to scare people, he I’m actually scared,” y/n admitted.

Y/n wanted to leave, but she heard the noise come from the path she had to walk down to head back to the mansion.

The woman didn’t know what to do. There was no way back, and no sight of Logan. There wasn’t a sight of anyone, yet, she heard a noise that she knew the trees wouldn’t make.

After taking a few deep breaths, y/n decided to take a step towards the way she needed to go to head back to the mansion. She instantly stopped with a gasp when a figure came from behind a huge tree.

“L-Lo-Logan?” Y/n stuttered heavily, not knowing who the person was because their face was covered with a Halloween mask. She prayed it was Logan playing some prank, but y/n was an overthinker.

“Logan, please talk to me,” y/n begged low as she rubbed her fingers nervously. “Watcha doin’ out here alone, sweetheart?” The masked man asked. Their voice was unidentifiable because of the speaker in their mask.

“I — Logan, please, stop this,” y/n begged before the masks man slowly took steps towards her. “Pretty dangerous out here for a pretty school girl like you. Don’t think anyone would think twice about taking you out here,” the masked man said, making y/n’s heart rise.

The man’s figure looked a lot like Logan's. The muscles, the walk, even the way he talked, but this couldn’t be Logan, right? He wouldn’t make an inappropriate comment like that towards her, right?

“Logan, please-“ y/n was cut off as she tripped. Y/n groaned with a whine as she rubbed the back of her head that she hit lightly. Logan felt bad but didn’t show it. He was too far in the mood to break character.

“Please, sir — I’ll do anything, just, don’t hurt me,” y/n’s eyes began to tear as the masked man finally stood over her. “I would never hurt you, Bub,” Logan said something minor to make sure she knew it was him and that she was safe.

“Logan?” Y/n asked low before the masked man hovered over her. Logan began tugging on y/n’s clothes, causing her to yell. Because she didn’t see Logan’s face, she still felt a bit of fear.

“You smell so good, baby. Smelt that pussy ok your way out here,” Logan said as he pulled y/n’s mini skirt up that barely covered her ass. “Hey!” Y/n slapped at the man’s hands, but none of that phased him.

“You smell so damn good, I could just eat you like a sample, baby,” Logan continued his talk as he ripped y/n’s panties off. He brought the fabric to his nose before taking a huge sniff. The groan he let out made her realize this was Logan.

“L-Logan,” y/n said as he placed her panties in his back pocket under his costume. “Smart girl,” the man said as he ripped the speaker from under his mask. “Knew you’d catch on,” he said as he reached under his costume to unbuckle his belt.

“L-Logan, what are you doing? W-Why were you out here? I-I don’t even smell smoke,” y/n was confused, and the small fear of his huge figure over her made her cunt throb.

Logan ignored the girl's questions as he finally got himself out of his jeans. The man lifted his costume just enough to expose his huge leaky length.

“What are you doing? Logan? Logan, hey!” Y/n tried crawling back, but the man was quick to hover over her with his cock in hand. “Stay still, Bub. Just for a second, then you can do all the squirmin’ you want,”

Y/n kicked and slapped the man, but he got himself inside of Y/n with no struggle.

“That’s it, Bub, that’s what I wanna hear,” Logan looked down at y/n who cried loudly at the feeling of him stretching her out. “It’s okay, baby, just breathe. Take me in,” Logan continued pushing as she clawed at his chest.

“C-Can’t!” Y/n almost screamed as his pelvis rubbed against her bud. He was fully in her, barely allowing her to breathe. He could tell she’s never taken anything like him. That only made this situation better.

“So damn tight,” Logan groaned in her ear after a few seconds of his silence. All that was heard was her shaky whine and the sound of the leaves underneath them as she kicked.

“C’mon, baby, don’t give me a hard time. Don’t make the stranger mad,” Logan said, making y/n think. Was he into this? Was he into scaring y/n and acting like he was someone she didn’t know?

The Ghostface mask was perfect for what he was doing to her. He knew that, and she knew that. This was some kink he had and a kink she didn’t know she had until now.

“P-Please sir, don’t hurt me,” y/n played a lot with her shaky voice. An unexpected growl came from Logan’s mouth, not thinking she’d play along to his sick fantasy.

“Oh, but I want to, baby. Wanna tear you apart like an animal out here,” Logan’s hand slowly snaked around her neck before gripping tightly as his other hand grabbed onto her waist to push her down into the wet and dirty ground.

“Please don’t, sir,” y/n begged, but it was unnecessary. Logan shifted his legs until he had the best position to slam down into the smaller girl, knocking the window from her lungs as her mind went dumb in seconds.

Tears slipped from the young girls eyes, barely being able to breathe from the tight grip on her neck. Logan knew if she couldn’t actually take anymore, or simply didn’t want this, she’d tell him, but the both of the knew she wanted all of this just as much as he did.

“Yeah — Take it,”

[madaqueue]

CARVE ME UP AND EAT ME

there was almost no information on the mysterious cult nestled into the mountainside near your hometown, with even less knowledge about its leader. curiosity sets you on your path to investigate, but something else manages to keep you.

pairing: vampire!suguru geto x f!reader

themes/content: dark content (dubcon). smut. cult leader suguru, blood drinking/feeding, like mind control-ish? idk i was making up vampire rules here, pet names (little lamb), fingering (reader receiving), p in v (missionary). 18+, MDNI (wk: 7.6k)

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!!!! thanks for getting freaky with me this month, it's been such a blast and i love you all!!!! hope you get to dress up and have lots of yummy candy tonight :) mwah!!!!!

quintober masterlist | main masterlist

People rarely came back from the mountains.

When they did, they were…different. Months, even years having passed from their disappearance, and suddenly returning with no memory of it. As though their time away suddenly ceased to exist. They couldn’t recall what they had done, who they were with, anything that could help the townspeople pin down the mysterious group making their home in the depths of the woods.

Any efforts to catch the so-called cult were obviously futile - the town lost enough soldiers that the leaders decided it was pointless to send anymore sacrifices.

So, there was a sort of peace. Well, less peace, and more a silent war, a battle of contempt, one that left everyone on edge. Whenever someone went missing, the entire village stood on edge, waiting but never searching.

But you were trained well, oh so well.

“Never go out at night.” “Never stray from us.” “Never get lost.”

“Never go into the mountains.”

They praised you for your obedience, feeding it to you from dirtied palms, making you kneel before them to drink from it. It felt good to be good.

Obedience is strength.

Their orders pulled at the strings of your muscles, dictating your actions, your movements, your very thoughts. They pulled and pulled and pulled until you were stretched taut, desperately tightening you into a form they deemed desirable.

It was only a matter of time before the strings snapped.

The fight was blurry now, nothing more than screams and tears and broken expectations so sharp you worried you may cut yourself. Your feet hit the ground outside your parents’ home faster than you could breathe in the burning air, cold in your lungs.

You had always obeyed.

So now, perhaps you could enact your final act of disobedience. The one thing that had been taught to you so deeply until it buried itself under your skin.

The path up the mountain wasn’t nearly as dangerous as others made it seem. Truthfully, it was shockingly well-maintained, the occasional branch snapping under your feet but no other obstacles.

What could even be so bad about this place, anyways?

The people who returned were never injured, always fed and clean and cared for. They always came back in a fresh set of robes draped over their skin, no signs of markings or damage painted across their bodies.

The options weighed heavy on your tongue. Either you’d reach the cult’s temple, or you’d die trying.

Either way, you’d be acting on your own. You’d be independent, free. With an exhale, you blew the remaining obedience into dust, joining the stars sparkling overhead.

The moon seemed pleased with your choice, at least, guiding your path clearly through the woods. Whenever the ground below your feet disappeared, you knew you had misstepped, returning easily to the worn-in gravel placed along the way. Eventually, the trees became sparse, no longer guarding you from whatever lays ahead.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust before focusing on the building before you, a gentle glow illuminating the temple through its exterior screens. It was certainly different than you imagined, expecting high stone barriers walling off a great fortress, leaving you to wonder: could masses of soldiers truly not pierce the paper screens protecting this deadly palace?

Yet, you couldn’t help but feel welcomed; it was unimposing, the warm lights flickering inside a definite sign of life. How many people call this their home? How many people serve here?

The wooden steps leading to the entrance creak slightly below your weight, palm hesitantly resting on the sliding door. Doubt flashes across your mind, the pull of your family threatening to tug you back home - should you turn around, forget this silly stunt and return to the life you had known?

Before you can move, the screen slides open in your grasp.

“Do come in,” a soft voice calls from inside as light floods your vision.

Your weight makes you stumble forward as your feet move on their own, carrying you into the room. It’s nice inside, the smell of sage lingering in the air as you make your way to the center. Before you is a man, his green and gold robes hanging loosely from his shoulders, the bare skin covered only by inky locks cascading down his back. His position looks almost leisurely as he kneels, his eyes scanning your figure.

“Sit.”

And you do - your knees buckle as you lower yourself to the ground.

A devilish grin spreads across his lips as he follows your motions. For a moment, his gaze locks on yours, deep purple eyes staring back.

“Quite an obedient little thing, aren’t you?” he purrs.

Air rushes into your lungs through a gasp, but you can’t stop the muscles in your neck from nodding.

What the fuck is happening? Why can’t you control your body?

As fear begins to course through your nerves, the stranger in front of you lets out a breathy giggle. “Good, that’s very good,” he muses.

When he rises to stand, your heart drops as you realize just how deeply you may have fucked up. He’s tall, easily towering over you. The bottom of his robes graze the floor as he circles you quietly - no, silently.

The sound of his humming vibrates in the air - you want to look at him, monitor him for any malicious intent, but you can’t bring yourself to turn your head.

When he’s completed his course around you, he returns to his seat on the floor. Perching himself on the balls of his feet, he leans forward. Cold fingers wrap around your face, pushing your cheeks together as he easily maneuvers you in his grasp. His eyes burn your skin as you realize:

He’s inspecting you.

With a pleased huff he releases your head, settling back across from you. That same smirk rests across his lips as he speaks. “Tell me, why did you come here, little lamb?”

The sound of your voice hits the air before you realize it’s yours. “I ran away.”

“Oh?” With a tilt of his head, his eyes crease. “Well then, I suppose you’ve found your new home. Welcome.”

Silently, he rises once more. This time, he extends a pale hand out to you. “I can show you to your room, if you’d like.”

At his words, the tendons within your body relax, more at ease. Finally under your own control, you raise a hesitant arm. Is this what you want?

Your palm rests lightly upon his.

He smiles.

“Good choice,” he whispers as you rise to your feet.

The temple’s grounds are beautiful, even in the dark. Flickering candlelight lines the stone paths as you walk through tended gardens, over wooden bridges and small streams. He guides you to a house near the back, tucked safely into the mountainside.

The paper slide shudders as it opens, revealing the outline of a bed covered in crisp white sheets.

“You can sleep here tonight. If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to call for me,” he informs you, each syllable floating through the night air.

With one swift motion he turns, returning down the path you came from.

“Wait!” you call - as the command settles, you sheepishly cross your hands. Dark hair falls over his shoulder as he turns to face you. “How…how will I find you?”

His eyes close as he laughs. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll find you.” And with that, he disappears into the darkness.

–

The sun rises hesitantly here. It peeks its head through the translucent screens, barely illuminating your room enough to rouse you. When you finally wake, your thoughts swirl in confusion for a moment - where are you? what happened? - before you remember the previous night, the path beneath the watchful moon, the man who led you here.

Despite the unfamiliar environment, the warnings carved into your skin about the dangers of this place, you can’t bring yourself to feel afraid - after all, if he wanted to hurt you, he surely would have by now, right?

There’s an ache in your muscles as you stretch your arms overhead, bare feet resting upon the wooden floor, cool from the morning air. Idle hands begin searching the room as you open the hand-carved drawers, the scent of pine still lingering on them.

In the first, you find fresh sets of sheets. Below that, cleanly folded towels.

Moving to the next chest, your eyes widen as you scan its contents. Inside lie beautiful silks in every shade - your palms run over blues that mirror the sea, pinks the color of sunrise, greens brought from the forest floor. Each one feels more extravagant than the last, and as your awe clears, you suddenly feel ashamed to be holding them. They slip through your fingers as you shy away in embarrassment, your dirtied skin unworthy of touching them. They aren’t yours, after all - you’re nothing more than a guest here.

Turning to the closet nearby, you swing open the heavy doors, only to be met with even more luxury, this time robes hanging in neat rows.

You shouldn’t take them, but then again, the man did say anything you needed was yours…and you could use a new set of clothes after your travels last night…

Hesitantly, you pull one of the kimonos from the rack - in your hands, it catches the morning sun, small threads of gold reflecting across the room interwoven with the purple cloth. Sliding into it, you can’t help but notice the way it fits you perfectly, the length extending to just above your ankles, the sleeves resting gently along your wrists.

It feels foreign on your skin, surely you look like a fool, nothing more than a child trying on their parent’s work clothes. Glancing around the room, you search for a mirror to confirm your suspicions, but none seem to catch your eye. Oh well, you sigh, you’ll just have to face everyone looking like a stranger.

Stepping outside, a cool breeze brushes past your cheeks, your arms wrapping the robes tighter around your body as you fight off a shiver. It must be colder at this altitude, no longer afforded the protection of the very mountain you now reside on.

Small pebbles crunch beneath your feet as you make your way along the temple grounds. You try to retrace the path you took from the main house last night, but it quickly proves useless, your memory already foggy. Maybe it just looks different during the day?

Nevertheless, you don’t mind being lost here - the area is truly beautiful. Flowers fill the green spaces, ones you’d never seen before, shades of purple and red dotting the meadows. In the distance, tall trees poke against the horizon, leaves dancing in the wind.

As you wander, you pass identical buildings to the one you stayed in last night. Had you walked past all of these on your way there? Surely you would have remembered them, right?

This time, of course, the lights inside are off. There’s no use for them under the sun that’s now settling into the sky above. There are fewer clouds up here, you realize, perhaps another effect of the altitude.

By the time you find your way back to your new home (only able to identify it by the screen door left ajar), darkness has begun growing along the grounds, insects chirping their nighttime songs from nearby trees.

Sliding your shoes off, the smell of something tantalizing hits your senses.

You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were until you’re suddenly faced with the most delicious looking meal sitting upon the table. Steam rises from the bowl of salty broth, and for a moment you overlook the fact that someone must have been here to deliver it as you hurriedly shuffle to sit down, scooping noodles into your mouth with the chopsticks resting nearby. Finally, the ache in your stomach eases as you slurp the remaining liquid, allowing it to practically dribble down your chin.

A long shadow is suddenly cast along your room from behind you.

“I’m glad to see you’re enjoying dinner.”

Your spine shoots straight up as you turn, wiping your face with the back of a suddenly clammy palm.

“Y-yes,” you stutter, attempting to hide the utter lack of manners in how you had ravenously consumed the meal.

The man from last night stands in your doorway, leaning against the frame as he crosses his arms. That same smirk spreads across his features.

“Thank you!” you suddenly blurt, aware of your impoliteness. “It was…very good. Thank you.”

Another light chuckle dances across the air. “Please, no need for formalities. I’m simply glad you are enjoying the food. It’s been quite some time since I’ve had to make something for someone other than myself.”

Questions lie along the tip of your tongue, but before they can escape, he turns with a wave. “Well, I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Wait!” You internally curse yourself again for the interruption, but one question in particular was burning its way through your throat. “I realized I never learned your name…”

“Oh,” he smiles through thin lips. “My name is Suguru, but most call me Master Geto. You can choose whatever name you like.”

Warmth floods your face at the title, and further at his informality. “O-okay.”

With another small flick of his wrist, he continues the path away from your room. “Anyways, goodnight,” he calls into the darkness ahead.

“Goodnight, Master Geto,” you murmur to yourself.

–

Your second day is all too similar.

You wake.

You dress.

You wander.

You eat.

This time, Master Geto does not stop by your room at all. You’re beginning to wonder what he does all day - hell, you’re beginning to wonder what anyone here does all day, not having seen a single other person.

All that free time leaves you to fester on your thoughts.

When you were a child, you heard the rumors of this place. At first, it was a sort of commune, a community where disillusioned and lost souls could go to find purpose. But when they stopped coming back, the stories twisted into more sinister adaptations. It was a religious group, who worshiped their leader as a false god. Then, it was a sex cult, who offered their bodies to him as a form of salvation. After that, it was a political power who strove to overtake all of society and enact his rules as law.

Time after time, story after story, it was always him at the forefront: some mysterious man who cornered and compelled his followers to obey.

And yet, you find yourself doubting it. How could he lead if he was never present? More than that, who could he lead if there were no loyal servants here to be led?

It didn’t add up.

The townsfolk were known for fear mongering - perhaps it was nothing more than a way to avoid losing any more citizens, to prevent them, too, from joining the strange man in the mountains.

But then again, you can’t quite shake the power you felt radiating from him when you were in that room, the way he so easily manipulated your body (and your thoughts) with nothing more than his words.

The thoughts string together in your mind as you pace the temple grounds during your walks, the only routine grounding you to the passage of time.

Today the sun struggles to shine through the clouds, a general greyness cast upon everything. It’s been almost two weeks, and you’ve barely seen him at all. Occasionally he’ll stop by your room, but only hover in the doorway, never entering. His voice always seems so calm when he speaks to you, offering simple observations about your meals, as though he was slowly investigating your preferences (not that he needed to - you were grateful simply to be fed - but he persisted nonetheless).

Tonight, you return to find the entrance to your room closed, the candlelight from inside casting a welcoming glow. As you slide the shoji open, a familiar scent fills the space. Your mouth waters as your feet carry you forward on instinct.

With the first bite from the bowl, you nearly moan in pleasure at the taste.

“Is it good?”

This time, you don’t jump at his silent approach. Glancing over your shoulder, you smile through a full mouth. “It’s incredible.”

“Good,” he laughs softly, “I’m glad. I was worried it wouldn’t be as good as you remembered.”

“Master Geto,” you swallow, “this is delicious.” Through another bite, your voice lowers, “It’s just like the oyakodon my parents used to make.”

“I know.”

The statement catches you momentarily off-guard, questions catching in your throat making you nearly choke.

He senses the change immediately as your shoulders close off, confusion building behind your eyes. “I apologize if I overstepped,” he begins, uncrossing his arms and allowing them to hang loosely by his sides in the slightly oversized robes, “I remembered that dish being popular in town, so I thought it might bring some comfort.”

“Oh,” you hum, tentatively chewing another bite. It’s a reasonable explanation, you suppose, even if it leaves more uncertainty swirling in your lungs.

After a moment of silence, his presence in your doorway begins to feel…awkward.

Normally by this point he’d have left with a wave, fading into the darkness outside. But not tonight. Tonight, he stays, swaying slightly within the entrance.

As your gaze covers him, the traditional robes remind you - perhaps you were being even more rude than you expected. You still knew very little about him, but maybe he abided by more traditional laws, one that forbade a man from entering a woman’s sleeping quarters without her permission.

(You always thought those rules were a bit silly, but now was not the time for debate - now was the time to learn more about the man lingering outside.)

“Would you like to come in?” You place the question into the air as you swallow the final piece of your dinner.

His grin threatens to tear across his cheeks as he nods politely. “Of course.”

As he approaches the table inside, his presence suddenly feels overwhelming. Even though he’s not physically much larger than you, something about him suffocates the space, his soul spreading out until there’s no room left. It’s stifling.

But when he sits across from you, it gets sucked back into himself. You can breathe again.

“How is the temple?” he asks easily.

“It’s beautiful,” you muse, “but…where is everyone?”

“Everyone?” He cocks his head to the side. “Oh! You mean the others. They aren’t particularly active during the day - you know how hot it gets here.”

In an instant, it feels right - the memories of the brisk mornings become hazy in your mind, replaced with the sun beaming overhead. Maybe you even returned to your room with sweat glistening along your skin after a particularly long walk.

Suguru notices the way your vision clouds over as the experiences rewrite themselves. If you were more present, perhaps you’d be able to decode the emotion flashing across his face as his nose scrunches and eyebrows furrow.

He stands suddenly, pulling you from your internal trance.

“Well, I suppose I should be going now,” he hums, gliding seamlessly to the doorway once again. “Goodnight.”

Before you can breathe a question, he’s gone, the rattling screen door the only proof of his existence.

–

You think you’re going insane here.

When you fled, you wanted to find something exciting, a new experience, an act of defiance. You wanted something to fill the emptiness in your soul and make you into something else, someone stronger, someone braver, someone more than the obedient little girl you left behind.

But now, with every repeated step through the temple grounds, you feel yourself collapsing inwards. The support beams inside you aren’t strong enough, cracking under the weight of loneliness.

Why wasn’t anyone here?

Why wasn’t anyone helping you?

Even Master Geto’s presence became desired, in spite of the slight unease that brewed within your stomach when he was around. It was like an addiction, as though he knew just how to feed you enough of him to keep you coming back, to keep you starving.

Ironic, isn’t it? That here, in a place with all your needs met, with delicious meals and extravagant clothes and plush beds, you find yourself destitute. Hunger pangs shoot up your chest as you eat alone, the robes begin stifling each breath, too hot even as the days grow colder. Every night you become increasingly acquainted with the wooden beams drawn above your bed.

You’re empty.

On your thirty-first night, after hours laying alone in the dark, you wonder if perhaps the moon would have any advice for you. She’s always watched over you, maybe she could guide you.

Outside, the gravel shifts beneath your feet. The candles are lit once again, lining the paths throughout the grounds. You’ve never seen anyone light them, and yet every night, their flames continue to burn (not that you need them, of course - you’ve grown accustomed to this place, steps tracing it like palm lines).

So you trust your legs when they carry you forward. Until you’re once again at the entrance of the main temple, the same warmth flickering from inside.

The door slides open easily, the hesitation that used to live in your muscles now replaced with tired indignation. You no longer have to wait for Master Geto’s command to enter (even though you want it, you want it so badly, to be told what to do and where to go and how to act and what to think until you’re nothing but his little puppet because then at least you could be something).

A part of you expected him to be in his chambers given the late hour. But a more possessive part hopes he’d be here, waiting for you.

Your lungs breathe a sigh of relief as you feel his gaze. He smiles as you stand in the doorway.

“What’s my little lamb doing up so late?” he coos, beckoning you inside.

Rubbing your eyes, you take your seat on the floor next to him. “Couldn’t sleep.”

It’s been some time since you’ve been here, you realize - perhaps since the first night you arrived - but it feels comfortable, the scent of smoke lingering in the air. And Master Geto is here, too - that surely helps.

“I see. Tell me, would you like me to make you some tea?”

Your head nods on its own, perhaps an effect of your recent insomnia.

Silently, he rises, moving easily through the room to collect his arsenal. Armed with a maroon teapot and a single cup, he returns to where you rest in the center of the room. Dark liquid pours into the mug before he places it in front of you.

The first sip burns your tongue slightly, but you avoid wincing - you wouldn’t want to seem ungrateful. You wouldn’t want to push him away.

Deep eyes watch your every move, drinking you in. That quiet discomfort is back, but you shove it down with a forceful swallow. After all, if you seem distrustful, it may make him unhappy, or worse, leave you. After so long without him, you’re content to sit under his blanket of silence.

“How are you enjoying your time here?”

Your throat catches for a moment. Should you tell him it’s killing you, eating you alive and breaking you down? Should you tell him how much you’ve missed him? No - surely he’d think you strange, you barely know each other despite the time you’ve spent here.

“It’s been…comfortable.”

He tilts his head through a thoughtful hum. He allows the quiet to choke you for a moment before he continues. “And yet, you’re here at this hour. Tell me, why?”

Your lips are moving on your own, fighting against your better interest. “I’ve missed you, Master Geto.”

“Oh?” He seems pleased with your response, letting out that tantalizing little chuckle. “What is it about me you’ve missed?”

This time, you’re able to stifle your voice before it betrays you. Through another sip, you let the words simmer on your tongue before he speaks again-

“Tell me.”

“I missed being told what to do,” you blurt, nearly spilling the tea that had been resting behind your lips.

Thin lips tug into a smirk as he eyes you, and you can’t help but feel you’ve answered correctly, even if it was against your will.

That fear bubbles inside your chest once again, but this time it’s tainted with something else, something hot. Something you would be tempted to call desire.

Adjusting his weight, muscled legs sprawl before him. “Come here, little lamb,” he purrs.

So easily he pulls your strings. In an instant you’re crawling towards him, until you’ve settled upon his lap, head resting on his shoulder. Perhaps a month ago you would have been scared at how easily he maneuvers you to his will, but after countless days left with only your own thoughts to drive you, it’s a welcome reprieve. A body is a heavy thing to carry alone; there’s no harm in letting someone else borrow it for a moment.

Slender fingers card through your hair, melting you beneath his touch. Until all that’s left is a fluid form in the outline of your flesh; it makes it all the more easy to shape that way.

“You must be tired, poor thing,” Suguru hums into the crown of your head.

“Mmm,” you hum in response, eyelids fluttering closed.

“Go on then, sleep.”

And your vision melts into his darkness.

–

When you wake, everything feels stiff. The room, your body, the blankets cocooned around you. Stale air sits in your lungs as you rise from the bed.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room, landing on wood floors and drawn shades. Everything is covered in a fine layer of dust except you, the only living thing here.

Nothing moves except for your breathing, no sounds besides the mattress creaking as you stand. Your thighs are tense, aching with each step forward. At least your robe is comfortable, even if it’s not the one you remember falling asleep in.

That memory itself feels fuzzy - how long had you been here?

But the slippers on your feet are warm, and you don’t feel that gnawing ache inside your stomach anymore. Maybe it doesn’t really matter.

Sliding the bedroom door open, you wander into the hallway. At the end, flickering candlelight casts a glow across the familiar carpet, the same as in the main building. Oranges and greens blur in your vision as you make your way to it, and your heart picks up its pace as you walk, drawing you in.

It lurches when you see him.

Master Geto.

“You’re finally awake, my little lamb.” His voice is smooth like silk, softer than the sheets that had cradled you as you slept. “Come in.”

The room is beautiful, dark reds and browns lining every surface, especially the bed he lays upon. The material is cool on your skin, flushed from sleep.

“You slept for quite a while,” he hums, beginning to slowly run his fingers over your hair. “Do you feel better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Why thank me?”

“I think…I think it was because of you.” The sentence trails up at the end, leaving it a question. One he does not decide to answer.

“Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please. Thank you, Master Geto.”

His lips spread into a smile as he rises, silently moving to the teapot resting in the corner. With his back momentarily to you, it’s easier to remember all the questions you ought to ask - how long was I asleep for? where is everyone? why am I here?

But they’re too overwhelming, too big. You aren’t sure he’d answer them, anyways - you aren’t sure you’d want an answer. It’s easier to not ask.

“I’m not sure I should stay here anymore.”

His shoulders stiffen, just enough that the tea nearly spills over the edge of the cup. He sets it down on the table beside you.

“And why is that?”

“I just…” you trail off, holding the mug in your hands. It’s warm, making your palms itch. “I’m not sure there’s anything for me to do here.”

“You keep me company. Is that not enough?”

“It is, but I just…I guess I don’t feel like I’m doing a good job.” It’s easier to speak when you only have to face the steaming liquid held in your lap. “I feel lost without you. I don’t know what to do with my time. I mostly just wander around and hope I see you, or hope you give me something to do. I like that, but I’m not even doing anything. You’re never around during the day anyways, so then I end up festering with my thoughts and just feel worse. I’m losing my mind here.”

A slender finger traces up your neck, tilting your chin so you’re forced to look at him. His eyes hold a dark ice behind them, the kind that would slice open ships and kill sailors in the middle of the night, the kind the sea only makes when it’s craving blood.

“You have a purpose here, little lamb, you just can’t see it.”

You can’t hold his gaze, so you allow it to fall to the pink and red of his lips. “Then tell me what it is! I want to do something, please Master Geto.” Nails leave crescent-shaped marks in your skin as you grip the teacup.

“I can’t tell you, not yet.”

“Either tell me, or I’m leaving.”

You aren’t sure where the words came from, but they shock you as they land. Perhaps some deep part of your soul, some part the moon uncovered on your walk to the temple, growing brighter under her protection.

Fire, then ice flares behind him. He forces his shoulders back, cooling his tone. “Why don’t you drink some tea and calm down a bit, then we can talk about this?”

“I don’t want your tea! I want to know what’s going on!”

“I said, drink.”

The muscles in your arms tighten to bring the cup to your mouth. Liquid is forced past your lips through a choke. It burns your throat.

Once it’s empty, you drop it, the mug clanging against the floor. Tears prick the corners of your eyes in pain, and Master Geto seems tense. Lowering himself to the ground, he gingerly picks up the cup, allowing his palm to graze yours as he rises. Silently, he glides to the corner of the room where steam rises from the still-full teapot.

With everything in you, you force your mouth to move. “How do you do that?” Your voice is hoarse.

“Do what?”

“That,” you stumble, trying to explain. “Make me…do things.”

Six seconds pass before he answers.

“Do you know what obedience means?”

You nod.

“Tell me, what does it mean to you?”

“It means to do as another person says, always.”

Glancing at you from over his shoulder, his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Exactly.” He pours more liquid into your cup, a silent apology in his own misshapen way. “Some must be trained into obedience through leashes and chains, but others are born for it, their souls a softer shape, one that’s easier to mold.”

The mug is warm in your hands as your fingers wrap around the ceramic, accepting it from his grasp.

“Someone like you, for example, was made to obey. You feel it, don’t you? That emptiness when you aren’t being commanded?”

As you nod, something inside you aches, a hole where your autonomy should be. And here is Master Geto, so kindly offering to fill it.

“That makes it all the more effortless to follow someone, you see. I can sense it, the way your body practically begs me to control it.” He explains it easily with a wave of his hand, as though a few sentences could make you understand.

And yet, you do. It feels right to be led by him, molded by him, controlled by him. It’s the comfort you’ve felt, the warmth that clouds your thoughts whenever you’re near him.

“Is that…is that what I’m doing here?” A large hand reaches over to rub slow circles into your back through the robe - his robe, you now realize. “I’m here to follow orders and do whatever you say?”

“No, no, not at all.” A sound close to a laugh brushes through his throat at the thought. “You’re here for something else.”

You finish the second cup of tea - it’s easier to drink now that your throat has already been burned. “Please, tell me why. I promise not to leave, please, Master Geto.”

Dark eyes fall to the empty cup in your hands, then back to you. So powerless in his grasp, the smell of him lingering on your clothes, on your skin, on your breath. An impossible scent to lose, even if you were to run.

“Do you know what a vampire is?”

Confusion swirls in your mind at the question. “Yes? I’ve heard of them, of course. Creatures who live forever and drink blood to survive, right?”

“Exactly,” he smiles, voice smooth like the silk wrapping around your body. “There are other components too, of course. Other powers. The commands, for example. And you’ve heard of those coming back from my temple, yes? How they return with no recollection of their time here?”

“Yes.”

“They were ones who ran - who I allowed to run, of course. They didn’t please me, or they were too weak to keep my company. But as you can imagine, I couldn’t allow them to tell others of what they had seen here, regardless of how stupid some of them may have been. So, they may survive, but the memories must go. And that’s just a fraction of what I’m capable of.” His words rise and fall in pitch, the most visible sign of excitement you’ve ever seen in him, before it flattens again. “Many think vampires are dangerous, but they aren’t, not if they’re able to control themselves. It’s a matter of obedience, you see.”

“Obedience,” you whisper into the empty space.

“If one can stay in control of their desires, it’s barely any different than how a human lives.”

Your hands fiddle with the hem of the robe, teeth chewing on your lip. “Why are you telling me this, Master Geto?”

The finger on your chin trails up until his hand rests upon your cheek. When your eyes finally meet his, he smiles, a gesture you don’t return. Your heart beats loud, pulling you into him.

“You know why.”

And you feel it, in the depths of your stomach. The true weight of his horror, his power, settles like obsidian in your chest. A cough stifles from your mouth from the coal-black dust inside you.

His thumb runs over your lips, pressing down on the plump flesh. You should run, you should scream and beg for help and go back to your parents and pretend this never happened. You aren’t safe here, you shouldn’t stay a moment longer.

All your body can do is quicken your pulse, thrumming up your neck.

Your lips part. His thumb slides past them.

When he smiles, he seems pleased, and you feel warm like the tea spreading through your muscles with each breath. Flickering candlelight casts a shadow across his eyes, and they seem to glow with hunger.

“Are you scared?”

His skin tastes sweet as it settles on your tongue. You slowly shake your head, humming a soft, “No.”

A twitch of a smirk plays across his lips. He didn’t even have to compel you. They spread wider, allowing sharp, whitened fangs to poke through. Your eyes widen and pupils dilate as they dig into his lower lip, red blooming beneath the skin.

“You should be.” He’s leaning forward, until he’s so close you block the light from cascading across his face. In the shadows of your body, he looks monstrous, all flashes of black and white. “And yet, you stay. Tell me, why? What could you possibly hope to achieve?”

Air rushes through your lungs, and the words tumble out in a single breath. “I want to obey you, Master Geto.”

Tilting his head to the side, dark bangs obscure his eyes.

“Ah, I understand now. You really were made for this, weren’t you?”

Sliding his thumb from your mouth, he closes the distance between you. A long finger tilts your chin upwards, locking your gaze on him.

“You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

You nod. You can’t help it - you want to do anything he tells you; you will do anything he tells you.

“Good.” Pink lips brush against yours. His breath is cool as he whispers, “Then lay down.”

The sheets are chilled against your burning skin as your back rests upon them. It’s easier, now, the way you’ve accepted your muscles enacting his will. It feels right to let him pull your strings, letting him shape you into whatever pose he sees fit.

He doesn’t even need to command you to open your legs, large palms spreading your knees apart easily, allowing them to fall with the weight of his gravity. Your clothes are gone in an instant, laid bare before him, returned to your natural form before the god that granted it. It’s only natural.

Hot breath hits your core, cold eyes resting on your face. His thumb trails a path along your skin until it lands upon your clit, each slow circle another rotation around his orbit.

It’s almost too much, your body writhing under his touch, desperation making your hips rut uselessly into him. But he’s just…watching you.

“P-please,” you can’t help but whine, trying to grind into him for any additional ounce of friction. Master Geto simply continues his agonizingly slow pace.

Your gaze meets his for a moment, fire crackling beneath it as his lips tug into a sinister grin, a predator about to consume its prey.

Eat me, your body begs, I’m yours.

Oh, he knows.

His palm opens, sliding two fingers easily into your cunt. Just as he curls upwards, sharp teeth move from poking through his lip into the soft flesh of your inner thighs. For the violence crackling beneath his skin, he’s surprisingly gentle as his canines sink into you.

Because he doesn’t want it to hurt.

Not yet.

The prickling pain tingles your senses as he pulls your first orgasm from you, a faint moan humming in your throat.

When he rises from between your legs, red dribbles from his lips. He crackles with pride, completely unabashed; if anything, he’s proud.

Warmth blankets your body as he crawls on top of you, a wolf stalking a lamb. And you can’t bring yourself to run.

Muscled shoulders bare themselves under the flickering lights as he slowly sheds his robes, pale and morphing, too blurry to focus on. If you were more naive, you’d be tempted to call him an angel.

“You taste so sweet,” he purrs, his face now mere centimeters from yours.

When he kisses you, a mix of metal and cum tangles on your tongues, intoxicatingly you. Every ounce of his weight rests against you until you can’t pull in a breath anymore, your ribs unable to expand below him.

But like always, he grants you mercy.

He pulls back, just enough to let air rush in through your parted lips. Your skin burns where he places a gentle peck to the corner of your mouth.

Because now, you want it to hurt.

And oh, he knows.

That devilish smile curls upon his lips, no longer hiding the fangs behind it. Every beat of your heart makes you dizzy, your vision pulsing with each reverberating thrum. You wonder if he can feel it in your chest.

(He can.)

(He wants to claw it from your body and eat it.)

The remnants of blood lingering on his teeth are wiped away as his tongue swipes over them, an innocent white left in its wake. How perfect a sinner’s body can be.

He’s shifting his weight above you, but you barely notice, too enamored by him, too lost in his eyes, in his depravity. The moment your eyes flutter shut to protect your soul, he’s reaching out to you.

“Look at me, little lamb.”

And then, your gaze is locked on him.

And then, his cock is pressing into you.

Lips part, fire shoots up your spine, a cry dies in your throat. It’s burning and tearing and it’s death and everything is too hot and you’re staring into those eyes with flames behind them and you think you’d let him kill you if he asked.

Not that he needs to ask, of course.

Your back arches off the bed as your eyes nearly roll back into your head but they can’t - because it’s not what Master Geto commanded. Because you always do as he says.

Because you always obey.

Instead, tears prick at the corners and your entire body trembles and he’s staring down at you with pity.

“There, shh, that’s my girl,” he coos. He wipes away a tear with his thumb but he doesn’t stop, not until his pelvis is flush with yours and all you can feel is him inside you.

Ragged breaths rack your core, your walls clenching around him from his size alone.

“You’re being so obedient, so good,” he whispers into the shell of your ear. And the sun bursts through your chest.

A slack-jawed smile spreads across your features at his praise, cheeks warm and full of pride. You’ve done everything you were made for - you’ve made Master Geto happy. You’ve been good.

When he drags his hips from you, his tip catching and pulling and gouging any remaining shred of disloyalty from your consciousness, you know you’re his: your mind, your soul, your body. All his, in any way he wants it.

When he thrusts back into you, the emptiness inside you is filled with him.

Him.

Him. Him. Him. Him.

Master Geto.

All you have ever needed.

All you will ever need.

Master Geto.

Warmth blossoms in your chest as he fucks you into the silk sheets. You are his. You were always made to be his. There’s no pain in it, no uncertainty. It’s as things were always meant to be.

But there’s still something missing, something lingering in the droplet of red beading at the corner of his lips.

Eat me, your body pleads, I’m yours.

“Master Geto,” you whimper, “I…I want…”

As he gazes down at you, there’s a reverence behind it - not to you, no, but to your servitude.

“Yes, my little lamb,” he breathes through the sound of skin against skin. “Tell me what you want.”

“Bite me, Master Geto,” you cry, “please.”

And you feel him laugh, his breath hot against the skin of your neck. “Well, how could I deny my most devoted?”

First, it’s the searing pain of his fangs sinking into your skin. An instant later, it’s the burning pleasure of it.

A moan bubbles from your throat, allowing your head to fall back into his waiting palm, cradling you above the respite of feathered pillows. Because for now, he will hold you; you should be held by him.

Suguru is greedy as he drinks.

Grunts and groans echo from his chest, his body never stilling as he plunges in and out of you in pace with his tongue lapping at your pierced flesh. Just as his teeth pull away he strikes them into you again, and again, and again. Puncture wounds grow across your skin, blooming hues of maroon beneath them, stars decorating the sky, each one a burning supernova moments away from exploding.

They mark you for what you are: his.

“You taste,” he pants, “fucking devine.”

Nails claw at his back, your head lolled back into the sheets, limp beneath him. Of course, you’d move if he told you to - you’d die if he told you to.

Each racing heartbeat makes your vision pulse, head swimming as he drinks from you. Your body melts inside him, warm in his stomach.

The friction of his hips between your legs only grows, until it’s burning like the teeth in your neck. Red flames prick your skin, Suguru’s tongue chasing each one to put it out.

His grunts grow animalistic, a beast pulling muscles and tendons until it’s out of breath. Shoulders tense beneath your palms, and your stomach begins to tighten.

“Master Geto, I-”

“I know,” he growls into your neck. Arms tighten around your body, until they cage in your ribs, until you can’t breathe anything but him. “Cum for me, little lamb.”

Warmth floods your senses, numb save for his cock twitching. He bites down harder as his claim shoots into you, thick and hot.

For a moment, you wonder if he tore flesh from bone. When he removes his head from your collarbone, blood dripping down his chin in thick rivulets, it seems all the more possible.

Licking his lips, he groans at the sanguine flavor pouring down his throat, sweet like honey. When he kisses you, his tongue presses against yours until it lingers in the back of your mouth. Sweet like him.

Low eyes meet yours, a thumb stroking your cheek.

“Stay here, with me.”

And maybe, you will.

It’s easier like this, to be his.

It’s easier to obey.

[ggidolsmuts]

Single's Inferno - ARTMS Choerry

"Hey man, you ready to get the pants scared off you?"

"Sure sure, where are the others?"

"There they are!" You join your group of friends—it was right before Halloween, and they wanted to get the full experience and go through a haunted house attraction. Begrudgingly you agreed—you're not the fondest of jump scares.

"Yah, where's your date?" One of them asks.

"Date?"

"Yeah, it's a good opportunity to get to know someone, having a joint experience."

"How would I get to know someone in the dark when we're going to be screaming?"

"Look at Mr. Scaredy Cat here, I see why you didn't want to bring someone now," your buddy teases.

"Yeah fuck you, be glad I showed up. Let's just go in." Your group gathers at the entrance of the house, and a usher calls out.

"Okay guys how we doing tonight? For the best experience for everyone, you should be paired up with a friend, so pair off as needed and we'll let you in two-by-two, okay?" To your horror, your friends have basically paired off already—they came with their girlfriends, or brought their own dates. You would be going into the haunted house alone!

You would be going into the haunted house alone... Fuck, rather than being scared you're more sad than anything.

"Hey guys—" Before you know it your friends are already in line, every pair already locking arms. Some friends, hmph. You steel yourself and join the line, trudging along solo. You're on your phone when you hear a bright voice next to you.

"Hi! Are you going in alone?"

"Yes." From her tone you assumed it was an overly enthusiastic employee, but no.

"Can I pair up with you then?" You turn to look at your speaker—she's dressed simply in a fluffy sweater and jeans, but her smile is absolutely radiant, her eyes round and hopeful.

"Y-You want to go in with me?" You wouldn't say no of course, but she's way out of your league, and you had to double check.

"Mmhmm, is that okay?" You nod and she slides in right next to you—more than that, she slips her arm between yours. "Thanks, I'm Choerry!"

"Nice to meet you Choerry, you came to this alone?"

"No, but my unnies are all with their boyfriends, so they kinda just left me alone." She pouts cutely.

"Really? Same here, my friends ditched me for their dates too." You shake your head and Choerry laughs.

"That's great, let's ditch them then!"

"Sure!" Her enthusiasm is infectious. But as you get closer to the entrance, Choerry's hugging you tighter and tighter.

"To be honest, I don't like scary things, I might be loud, sorry."

"Why come then? You don't have to do this."

"No the unnies will make fun of me!"

"If you say so. To be honest, I don't like scary things either, hate jump scares."

"I can tell."

"What? How?" You're a little indignant, how did Choerry already chalk you down as a scaredy cat?

"You've been holding on to me since we got closer." You blink and look down—you've had a hand on Choerry's arm this whole time, and now you're not sure if she's been hugging you tighter, or if you've been pulling her closer to you.

"Oh, damn, sorry!" You hastily let go, but she stays close. If anything, she's even closer now.

"It's okay, good to know we're both scared."

"Enjoy!" You shake your head at the happy staff as the two of you walk through a curtain of dangling chains, loudly drowning out the shouts and screams ahead. It's dark and there's manmade fog everywhere, but you see an eerie green exit light across the room.

"I think we go this way."

"Oh, okay." The two of you walk forward into the fog side-by-side.

"Ahh!" The door behind you slams shut with a loud bang and Choerry is shouting already. "Sorry, sorry!"

"It's fine, I'm here," you reassure, hoping you sound braver than you are. You walk forward with her, dodging the hanging pig corpses—you were in a slaughterhouse.

"RAAAHH!" A huge man makes his presence known, wearing a bloody apron and carrying a cleaver. His boots squelch wetly, as if walking in pools of blood. "GET OVER HERE!" Choerry screams, clinging on to you tighter and burying your head against you.

"Oh shit!" You shout, quickly dragging her through, away from the menacing butcher. "Fucking hell!" You curse loudly. You blink as your eyes adjust to the new room, and your crinkle your nose at the new smell—chlorine and chemical cleaner. A brief spark runs through you as you assess the situation—Choerry pressed tightly against your arm, and the only way to describe that sensation is soft. But you shake that thought from your head as you gently rock her shoulder.

"Hey, he's gone, we're in the next room."

"Huh? Really? Thanks for getting me through."

"We don't have to do this if you're too scared, I can exit with you?"

"N-No! I'm not scared! Well, I won't be, if you'll guide me through the rest!" A spark runs through Choerry as she grabs your arm—firm, comforting, reliable, hot. But she's jarred out of it as someone starts shouting.

"Help me, help me!" In the far corner someone is chained to a chair, various needles seeming to stick out of them, connected to pipes. You're in a mad scientist's lab! A voice booms in the room.

"Ah, new test subjects, are you? Excellent, excellent. Nurses, get them!" On each side you see nurses step out from the shadows, pushing a gurney towards you two, complete with straps hanging off the sides.

"We should keep moving!" Choerry pulls on your arm, and the two of you hurriedly dash through a maze of dividers to walk around and curtains to pull open. The two of you never knew what horrors awaited behind each—you cursed at a single "person", their hands and feet on all the wrong limbs; Choerry screamed at an oozing "corpse". Somehow you manage to drag each other through the demented maze and into the next room.

The room is dim and jaundiced yellow, and you see white sacs hanging from the ceiling—cocoons?

"Oh no no no no no..." Choerry's hiding behind you, and she's shaking. "I can't, I can't do spiders!" You look again and indeed see a large spider perched on its web in the corner, numerous eyes glittering back at you menacingly.

"Stay behind me, I can stay in front." You intended to leave an arm behind for Choerry to grab, but instead she wraps her arms around you, hugging you from behind.

"Please, thank you!" She's warm on your back, and your hand finds its way over hers, and she gratefully grabs it. With her hugging you tightly you waddle your way through the cocoon obstacle course. The large spider hisses and screams at you.

"Oh fuck!" "Ahh!" Choerry screams and you shout when a large spider leg bursts out from a nearby cocoon, swinging away wildly, and the two of you hurry forward. You reach the exit with her, and as you take a deep breath to calm yourself your own nerves are shattered as Choerry screams again!

"Help, help!" Choerry slumps against you, and you whirl around to find her covered in what looks like web, but you take a closer look and realize what it was.

"It's not real, it's just silly string!" you reassure her, and you have to hold her still as you get rid of the string all over her hair.

"Really? I thought the spider was going to trap me or something..."

"I won't let that happen, okay? Hold still." Choerry's heart thumps as you pick out the last pieces of silly string—maybe it's beating quickly from the scare, but she felt attracted to you, taken care of, protected. She felt you trembling against her when she was hugging you, but yet you powered on even if you were scared. The other part of her also felt your midriff as she hugged you—not ripped or shredded, but solid and strong, reliable. A new spark runs down her spine as you touch her hair, trying to remove an annoying piece of string.

"There, all gone." You brush the last piece of string from her hair, and you find yourself stunned momentarily when looking right at Choerry. She is exceptionally pretty, cheeks lightly flushed from the frightening experience. Your fingertips tingle as you brush her hair aside, feeling the light sweat on her hair. Your hand moves down, wanting to cup her face, but you realize what you're doing and clear your throat to shake that thought.

"W-We should move on," Choerry says, voice a little hoarse, husky even.

"Right."

"Wait!" As you make to move forward Choerry grabs your t-shirt. "Sorry, my legs are weak." She was scared silly from the "attack", and you realize what you had to do.

"I'll carry you, we're almost at the end I think."

"Are you sure?"

"You can't be that heavy," you try to joke as you kneel down for her to get on your back. She gets on you gingerly, and her hair tickles your neck as you get on.

"Thank you," Choerry whispers in your ear, and you pray she doesn't notice your tremble as you grab her legs and get up. Meanwhile Choerry's hoping you don't notice her rapidly beating heart—you've literally swept her off her feet, and she's thinking back to her conversation with her unnies.

-----

"Haseul unnie, how did you meet your boyfriend?"

"Oppa? It was during COVID, I had to quarantine, we were stuck together, and then things just happened?"

"What just happened? Like did he ask you out?"

"Pabo, we couldn't go out, we were in quarantine!" Haseul blushes and continues. "We just kinda, ended up doing everything during that time together, and we found things compatible."

"Compatible? You mean— Wait, by everything you mean—" Choerry blushes, she can't believe her unnie would do something like that!

"Yeah, we did everything together! I just let things happen... Naturally." Haseul shouts initially, but plunges on, face red in embarrassment.

"But that's so random! It could have been anyone else!"

"We just had chemistry, you know, so I initiated. Like there's no reason, but it felt right, felt good to be together."

"And he didn't even ask you out, you just asked him?"

"What's wrong with that!" Jinsol interjects herself into the conversation. "I also asked oppa first too."

"Really?" Choerry's shocked by her other unnie.

"Yeah, he saw me as his best friend's little sister, but I liked him, so I went up to him and kissed him! I'd say the results are quite good," she adds with a dopey smile on her face.

"You're texting him right now aren't you?" Haseul jokes.

"Mmhmm!" The two of them bicker, leaving Choerry to drift off on his warm back.

-----

"Oh fuck!" Choerry's startled out of her thoughts as she's spun around. "I can't, fuck ghosts, I don't do ghosts." She looks at the way they have to go and sees a long corridor, complete with a few Sadakos, long hair covering their face, dressed in white gowns and hands outstretched—some sort of haunted high school concept.

"Huh? They're zombies!" she tries to make you think of them differently, but it doesn't help.

"Zombies, ghosts, same difference, I don't like them!" you mutter in a rush. Choerry hurriedly comforts you, gently brushing your face.

"Hey, it's okay. Do you trust me?"

"Trust you?"

"Yes, just look down at your feet, okay?" Choerry has a hand over your eyes. "Whatever you do, don't look up, just make sure you don't trip, and listen to me." You take a deep breath and whirl around.

"I'm ready."

"Okay, just walk forward until I tell you to stop." Choerry encourages you as you go. 

"Yes, one step at a time, you're doing good."

"Take one step to the left, do not look up."

"Now like 3 steps to the right. Omo hello!" Choerry is surprised by one of them, but greets them happily.

"Choerry!"

"Sorry, sorry, we can just walk forward." You fill the images in your head from the sounds—the screech of nails on blackboard, the haunting laughs of children, the unyielding ticks of a loud clock. But Choerry's in your ear, noticing your fear and whispering comforting directions.

"We're almost there, just a few more steps." You only notice you're done when you feel Choerry tap your shoulder and tilt your chin towards her.

"We're done, we finished!" You're so thankful you could kiss her, and she's so pretty up close. Choerry notices the closeness too—you're pretty cute when scared and flustered, and kinda cute regardless. She's already moving closer when she catches hold of herself and blinks rapidly. "You can umm, put me down now."

"Huh? Oh, yeah." You let Choerry down, and when you think you can finally relax a booming voice is heard from behind you.

"YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY? YOU BETTER NOT COME BACK, YOU BETTER RUN, RUN AND NEVER COME BACK!" It seems to grow in volume, as if getting closer and getting angrier, and you grab Choerry by the arm and run further away, clearing the fence surrounding the attraction. A generic voice comes through a much smaller speaker.

"We hope you enjoyed your time here, thank you and we hope to see you again!" The absurd contrast of the two messages makes you break out into laughter, and you hear Choerry's piercing laughter right next to you—you had pulled her along to the exit, and when you stopped you caught her momentum, wrapping her up in a hug. The two of you laugh and smile, happy to be done with the ordeal.

"Thanks for getting me through it."

"Thank you for carrying me through it," Choerry answers back, holding your gaze. The arms you have around her stay there, and she doesn't make any attempt to break out either. You feel your own heard pounding, or is that Choerry's? You meet her sparkling eyes, drawn inexorably to them, wanting to see them closer up. 

But the next pair comes barging through, shouting and screaming just like you two were earlier, and the moment is broken.

"Oh! Sorry!" You quickly get out of the way, only to find that Choerry has stepped in the opposite direction.

"So umm, thanks!" You call out lamely.

"Yeah, thanks!" she calls back. Out of habit she checks her phone, and a few messages pop up.

*Choerry are you out yet?*

*It shouldn't take that long, did she just chicken out and leave?*

*Do they not let her in if she's alone? Is she still back at the entrance?*

She turns to look at you still standing there, on your phone too, and quickly fires a white lie to her unnies.

*Yeah, they didn't let me in, so I just went back, don't worry about me I'm already back home!*

With that done she puts her phone away. As she goes to tap your shoulder you're also turning around, slipping your own phone in your pocket.

"Oh, hey, you're still here?"

"Yeah, my unnies, they ditched me."

"Yeah, my friends too, ditched me as well." From the knowing smile you give each other you both know it didn't matter if any of that was true or not. But the two of you hang around, unsure how to breach the real topic at hand, and more couples come running out until Choerry decides to take the initiative.

"Hey, do you mind coming home with me? I'm still a little scared, don't want to take a cab alone."

"O-Oh, sure, of course."

Choerry's hand felt hot as you helped her into the cab.

"Safely home," you add pointlessly as Choerry unlocks the door.

"Yes, thank you. Please, come in." Daringly she pulls you through the door, and as she holds you close her initiative is rewarded—you're looking at her intensely, her eyes seeming to shimmer again with the sparks that are flying between the two of you. Choerry's heart is racing as you get even closer, and as you lean in head tilted, her own eyes flutter shut, letting the moment take over.

You're kissing Choerry, and her lips are every wonderful adjective you can come up with—soft, rosy, plump, sweet, juicy. You capture her bottom lip, gently sucking on it and finding her absolutely delicious. A little gasp escapes her, and you're cupping her cheek, pulling her back to capture her lips again. You wrap an arm around her, pulling her closer, hand playing with the hem of her sweater. A small hand on your chest stops you in your tracks.

"Sorry, I don't do this normally, or at all." Choerry can't meet your eyes, looking down at the floor.

"Right, I understand, sorry I thought— Yeah." You don't know what else to say, did you misunderstand the situation? Your hands fall away from her, abashed at your rashness. But immediately Choerry's pulling on your t-shirt and leaning into you, and you're feeling her lips on yours again. This time she is more passionate, throwing her arms around your neck, pressing herself fully into you, a hand running through your hair. When she pulls back both of you are breathless, and the spark in her eyes has become a fire.

"But it feels good, feels right, so..." Choerry takes your hands and has them rest on her hips. You press your forehead to Choerry's, watching her mouth hang slightly open when you move your hands slightly, going over the edge of her jeans and brushing circles on her bare skin. 

"Okay, we go as far as you're comfortable with." Choerry's losing herself in the moment, feeling the hairs on your neck stand—you're just as nervous as she is, and she overcompensates with bravado. She kisses you again before pulling away—she pulls her sweater up and over her head, revealing her toned midriff teasingly before her simple white top drops back in place. Her voice is heavy with desire, the words thick in her throat as she tells you how far she wants to go in the few words she can manage.

"All the way." 

You reply in kind, taking off your t-shirt, and your jeans get a little more strained as you see Choerry lick her lip subconsciously, eager eyes taking you in. You kiss her once again, hands sneaking under her thin top as her hands wander your shoulders and chest. Choerry parts her lips, sighing into the kiss, and you let yourself in, drawing a low moan from her. Your tongues dance and fight, and after a fierce battle both of you catch your breath—you take the chance to assure her of your intentions.

"Right there with you."

You're right there with Choerry, on top of her in fact, hungrily plunging your tongue into her mouth as she grips your arms. To Choerry her bed seems floaty, like she's barely laying on it—with how you're kissing her, sucking on her lower lip, it's like you're lifting her off the bed just off that alone! The muscles she feels on your arms only serve to turn her on even more, and the arousal is no more apparent than in the stiff nubs you feel as your hand brushes over her chest, making Choerry wish her top was removed already.

There is one thing Choerry wants to see removed more, and she reaches for your jeans, unbuttoning them and watching you kick it off, showing your desire for her.

"Your turn." Her breath catches as you reach for her jeans, right below her bellybutton. "Still with me?"

"Huh?" Choerry finds your questioning gaze, your fingers on her freshly popped jean button.

"You made a sound, like a squeak." Did she? Choerry's too engrossed in feeling you, unable to keep track of everything happening everywhere on her body, all at once.

"Just really sensitive, everything feels so... much."

"We can go slower." Choerry keeps her eyes locked on you, and you're looking right back at her as you slowly unzip her jeans—she has to remind herself to breathe, she's not sure she has ever been so turned on from such a simple act! You peel the tight jeans down her generous thighs and slim calves, revealing the simple black panties she has on.

"Wow." You let out a small laugh at just how lucky you are tonight, but Choerry tries to cover with her hands, long legs twisting, trying to hide from you.

"Don't laugh, I didn't think I'd be—" You shush her with a kiss, pulling her hands away and gently pushing her legs open with yours.

"No, it's a good wow, you're amazing." You push a knee up between her legs, and you grow even harder. "So sexy, so wet for me."

Choerry gasps, unsure which bolt of pleasure is stronger—your knee brushing against the apex of her thighs, or you saying that she's sexy. Soon it doesn't matter anymore as the constant friction between her thighs is becoming a burn, cauterizing and sealing off any idle thoughts. All she can do is focus on how good everything feels—your hot breath on her neck as you plant a mark on her, hands licentiously having their way with her underneath her top, your warmness both between her legs and on her lips as she leaves mindless hickeys all across your neck.

"Wait! No, don't..." You are halted by Choerry's breathless gasps, but it is a false alarm when you look down—her thighs squeeze around the one she's straddling, and she's openly grinding against you. "I-It feels good." Gone is the bright and cheery tone, replaced with something huskier, downright seductive.

"Okay, do what feels good." Choerry's hands are on your shoulders, and you watch her head sink into the pillow, tilted back as she loses herself in the pleasure. Her delicious midriff undulates as she writhes on your thigh, the little noises she makes causing you to stain your own underwear with precum.

"Mmph!" She's grabbing you by the neck, pulling you against her twisting body to use for leverage—she's bucking herself against you, and with your face pressed against her chest you hear her heartbeat spike, her lungs swelling to take in air—

"Nngh!" Any shout or scream Choerry wanted to make is snuffed out by the pleasure, but you feel her cum all the same, your thigh suddenly getting hot and wet as she rides out her orgasm. "Oh yes... Yes, yes, yes..." All she manages is a sigh followed by softer moans, her grip on you slackening as her entire body begins to relax. Your knee is sore from kneeling on the bed, and you slowly pull away, waiting for her to recover. Thankfully you're not left hanging for too long, and as she pushes herself up she looks at your own "wet spot" on your boxers.

"Sorry I took my time didn't I?" You don't even manage to reply as she takes off her thin white camisole before coming towards you. "I made a mess too, you felt so good." She wipes your shiny thigh with her top, cleaning it up and maybe ruining her top in the process. But both of you are too far gone to care as she discards the rag, fingers pulling on your boxers.

"Can I?"

"Y-Yeah, yeah." Choerry pulls your underwear down, letting your cock spring free. "Oh fuck!" you moan as she daringly wraps a hand around you, making a test stroke.

"Does that feel good?"

"Really good, really really good."

"But we can't end it early can we? We're going all the way." Choerry pulls away, propping herself up on her elbows as she looks at you seductively—for someone who's so bright and cheery, she sure knew how to entice you, and like a moth drawn to a flame you're on top of her once more, hands going straight to her panties.

"My turn?"

"Please." Your fingers tremble a little, but you get ahold of yourself and roll them down her hips, revealing her wetness, still swollen and pink from her orgasm earlier. Much like the rest of Choerry right now it looks delicious, and you're tempted to dive in, but she pushes you off with her feet, kicking her underwear off.

"All the way," she reiterates—Choerry wanted to go all the way, and she wanted to go all the way now.

"Stop me if I'm going too fast," you murmur, positioning yourself between her spread legs.

"No, I trust you." You start with just the proverbial tip, wedging yourself in her. "Wow, it's so big." Choerry blurts out, half-praise, half-concern. She's not wrong either—you feel just how tight she is right from the get go, see the way it must look to her, watching herself be split open. Yet she wants all of it, pushing herself down the bed, just enough to take another half inch of you.

"I want it all the way in me." Choerry holds you close, the pressure between her legs seeming to grow without end as you give her what she wants. Your groans are music to her ears, knowing that it's overwhelming for you too—just like the haunted house earlier, you're experiencing this together. A few seconds later you're pressed on her, and Choerry can feel you throbbing, in time with your heartbeat.

"All the way in... Fuck," you mutter—much like Choerry, you can feel all of her, how, despite her nerves, she's hungry for you, her body trying to draw you in, walls pulling at your shaft. You stay still, both of you breathing deeply, taking it all in.

Then she squirms. Much like she did on your thigh earlier, and it is your sign to move. You draw back, feeling Choerry shudder as you pull out, a balance of delicious friction and wistful emptiness. You push in, and this time her pussy yields easier, the slickness coating your cock making things smoother but just as delightful. 

Now one more time, but faster.

"Ah!" 

Choerry's yelp triggers something in both of you—she can't control herself, so you didn't need to either. This time you no longer stay composed, no longer measured in your movements; No, you're hugging Choerry and *doing what feels good*. With your face buried in her neck, you don't see much, but much like earlier, you don't need to—Choerry's whispering all the directions you need right into your ear.

"Harder, yes harder!"

"Faster, please go faster..."

"Right— Nngh right there, right there!"

Along with a few not-so-useful descriptions.

"You're so deep in me, no one's ever been this deep!"

"Y-You're stretching me, oh my god, please don't stop!"

"I'm so close, please, please!"

"Fuck I'm going to cum so hard..."

Your reply to Choerry makes her pop right away.

"Do what feels good."

"Oh oh oh I'm cumming, I'm cumming! Feels so— Mmm!" Choerry sucks on your neck hard as she combusts, wrapping her legs tightly around you. When she's done you're close yourself, and you need to do something to mix it up.

"You trust me right?"

"Mmhmm?" You sit up and get Choerry to sit in your lap. She thought you wanted her to ride you, but as soon as you're in her again you have her ass in your hands, and she's clinging on to your neck while you stand up.

"Oh god..." With gravity's help you're even deeper in her, and a jolt of pleasure goes through her when you make an experimental thrust.

"See, you're not heavy."

Choerry wants to say that that's not the point, that what is important to her is that you're fucking running your cock through her, kissing the very end of her warmth and making her toes curl.

"Mmph, hnngh... Ah, ah ah ah— mmm!" Yet that's all that comes out when you start thrusting, and Choerry dips her head, succumbing to the sensation of truly going "all the way" with you, your tip nudging against her cervix with every thrust. She's putty in your arms, hanging off you, powerless to do much more than cum, and she cums hard.

"Mmm, ah!" Choerry yelps and braces herself against you, unable to stem the tide of pleasure rushing through her. It starts as a warm wave of slick over your shaft, but as you keep thrusting into her it becomes a splatter against your crotch and your thighs. When she digs her nails against your neck you take that as your sign to stop, and like an awning after a storm Choerry's dripping all over the place, and her husky harsh heaves are loud in the room, the last howls of the storm that just ripped through her. 

"Feels good to trust you."

"I'm glad, but I'm close."

"Good, I was wondering when I could make you feel good. Put me down." You let Choerry down, and she drops to her knees, grabbing your slick shaft and stroking you. You feel too good to notice the slight tremble in Choerry's hand—you had just given her the strongest orgasm she's had in a while, and yet she finds herself wanting more.

But she definitely wanted to repay your efforts first.

"Look at me." Choerry directs, and you listen. She's still incredibly pretty, but the large round eyes that twinkled as she laughed and screamed and whooped with you at the haunted house are now tinted with a shade of lust. Choerry looks innocent, but only innocent enough for you to stain. You're pointed right at her face, but you're quickly pointed to the back of her throat as she takes you in, distorting her beauty even more.

"C-Choerry..." you moan, meaning to tell her how good she feels or some such, but those thoughts fly out the windows when she starts ruining herself on you, tongue doing things that you never imagined she would do—around and under your shaft, swirling right over your tip. Your legs quiver and shake as it all becomes too much, and Choerry grabs your hips, pulling you deeper into her.

"Fuck!" The first two shots go right down her throat, and then you're out of her mouth. You're powerless in front of Choerry—eyes closed and hand stroking you furiously, all you can do is stand there and let her do it. You can't take your eyes off her, unable to hold back the surge of pleasure and cum that begins to cover her face. You let out a low moan of relish as she extends your orgasm, rubbing your tip and getting more makeup-ruining seed all over her as a reward. When she stops you're staggered and she's completely glazed, a particularly heavy blob sliding off her cheek.

"Oh shit... Uh hold on." You scramble to find her tissues, but given that you're in her apartment, she beats you to it with a soft laugh, beginning to wipe her face clean. The pretty and sweet Choerry reappears as she removes your load.

"There, all better."

"You umm— There's still a little bit." Choerry makes to wipe the little bit still on her lip, but she thinks better of it, smirking and making a show of licking it off, reminding you of what she can be just a moment ago.

"Mm, salty."

"Wow, you were amazing," you blurt out lamely—what else do you say when you've busted down their throat and covered them in cum?

"I'm glad you liked it, it was great for me too." She makes a show of cleaning up between her legs, slowly bringing the tissues up her creamy thighs and removing the slick shine off them. Cleanup is supposed to be awkward but necessary, yet Choerry makes it hot, showing you just how good you made her feel earlier. "I'll be right back."

As Choerry takes the soaked tissues to the restroom, her thoughts are a bit of a mess, much like the rest of her. She doesn't remember the last time she came that hard or that wetly, and as she flushes the tissues down she briefly brushes between her legs, gasping at her own findings—Choerry's still sticky, a gooey mess. She finally understands Haseul's drunken confessions.

-----

"How do you know oppa's the best you ever had? You haven't even been sleeping around! Or have you?" Choerry asks incredulously, not believing her unnie's declarations.

"Yah, of course I haven't!" Haseul looks around, and motions Choerry to get closer. "You know how when you do it alone, you're happy with one round?" Choerry blushes but nods, she knows what Haseul means exactly—the satiating satisfaction of getting herself off once is usually enough. "Well when I do it with oppa, I just... Want more. Want to be closer to him, want to, you know, receive more 'love' from him." Haseul replaces the crude 4-letter word in her head with something nicer. "But don't guys only do it once, how can you get him to do it again?"

"Choreo."

"Choreo?"

"Mmhmm, our choreo has sexy parts right? The ones where the fans scream because it's just a little too sexy but fine since it's only for a line or two? Just do something in those positions."

"I just bend over, it's mm... Easy to get him to do it again..." Jinsol mumbles, half-asleep already. Before Choerry could ask them more they both headslam the table, falling asleep in their drunkness.

-----

It is with those thoughts in mind that Choerry returns to the bedroom.

"You should umm, stay the night, it's late."

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose or anything."

"No, I wouldn't mind at all."

Choerry watches you put on your boxers and t-shirt, debating with herself how forward she wanted to be and what choreo she should use.

"Which side should I take?"

"Hmm? Whichever you want," she answers distractedly. It is a little later, when you have an arm around her, that she settles on Flower Rhythm.

Just as you are drifting into sleep, you feel the weight on your arm lessen. You take a peek and immediately start waking up—Choerry's holding a hairtie in her mouth, bunching up her hair behind before tying it off. Even that simple act is hot, and it gets even hotter when she bends over, getting on all fours right next to you. You're wide awake now, but Choerry only notices it when she pulls down your boxers and finds a half-stiff cock in front of her.

"Oh, you're up?"

"Only halfway," you manage to joke. "I felt you move, and then I saw you tie your hair and then now... Yeah, I'm awake."

"Let's get you all the way awake then." She takes you in her mouth again, but this time, more than her skills with her tongue it is the sight of Choerry bent over and wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and boy shorts that gets you harder than steel and eager to pump some of that iron into her.

"I'm wide awake, just stay there." Choerry reacts viscerally to your rasp—she felt just how hard you were in her mouth, and now you're going behind her to... She gets lower on the bed and curves her back a little more, pushing her butt a little higher—god she wants this so bad! All she can think about is you looming over her, grabbing her hips and—

"Ah!" Her shorts are yanked down unceremoniously, bunching at her knees—Choerry's forgotten that she's still wearing clothes, and in a flurry she pulls her t-shirt off and kicks her shorts away. She blushes a little at how eager and direct she's being, but she's grateful that you don't say anything; Or rather, she's grateful that you're already grabbing her by the hips, and that delicious pressure is growing between her legs immediately.

"Fuck yes..." you hiss, enjoying sinking yourself into Choerry for a second time tonight. Despite having stretched her deep and spread her walls once, she's just as tight as before, and you have to firmly push into her, drawing a loud moan.

"Ohhh yes! Ah..." Choerry's labored breaths give you pause, and you stop moving, letting her get used to you again, but she turns back to face you, beckoning you to lean over her. "Don't worry about me, you feel so good. Do what feels good for you." She emphasizes this by leaning forward and pushing back, making sure you feel her butt pressed against your hips. It's utterly unholy the way she's flush against you, urging you to hilt yourself deep in her.

Choerry braces as you grab her hips and pull back, but nothing prepares her for the sharp spike in pleasure when you snap your hips forward, and her arms give way immediately. She's wrinkling the bedsheet, biting it with her teeth and grabbing it with her hands as you pump into her. She's moaning into the bed, her muffled whimpers joining the solid smack of flesh on flesh ringing in her head. Each thrust leaves her gasping for more, and her body reacts with a mind of its own, pushing her cunt back against your rod, just to get you back in her faster, harder, deeper!

"Fuck Choerry... holy shit!" She feels like velvet and silk, trying to tug you deeper into her each time. The rest of her toned body is just as enticing—the way her shoulders flex when she pushes herself back at you, and you follow the slim line of her body to— Oh how her thighs ripple when you slam into her from behind! It's one thing to bounce her in the air on top of you, it's another to take her from behind, bouncing your hips off her ass, and you wanted more.

"Hnngh!" Choerry's moans grow louder in volume when she feels a hand on her lower back, forcing her to arch her back even more. You're taking charge now, and the new angle causes you to rub right against her g-spot, the pleasure tugging Choerry's eyes back, rolling them into her head. Her legs flex, trying to push her ass higher, to give you an even steeper angle to fuck her at. But no, you grab her hips and hold her down, seeming to fix her at the perfect height to pump down and forward into her.

Over and over you slam down on Choerry, striking at her g-spot repeatedly, numbing the rest of her body and replacing all of it with pleasure. At some point she begins to cum, her toes curling, teeth biting into the bedsheets to stop herself from screaming. A tidal wave of joy slams into her... And then another one, and then one more—there's no end in sight!

Now Choerry understands why Haseul does that move in Flower Rhythm so well, she must get fucked in this position so often, because it feels fucking amazing. Choerry doesn't even have to do anything, just lie there and take it and cum. And cum she does too, ecstasy consuming her thoughts as you fuck her silly. At some point she's no longer biting the sheets, and she's yelping and wailing, trying to swallow her screams and failing spectacularly. 

"Feels so good Choerry, I'm close!" She keeps getting tighter and wetter, you're not sure how long you can last.

"I-I'm cumming!" It doesn't even come out right, Choerry wanted to say "I've been cumming!" But she's been trapped in her orgasms the whole damn time, cumming her brains out and barely coherent, a mess between her legs and her ears. Yet you still fuck her, pounding her until her whole body feels like jello. You treat her words as approval to finish, and the bedsprings creak loudly, the bed rattling faster and faster as you chase your own peak.

A small groan escapes her when you pull out, and the slick that should be coating your cock comes out as a small squirt against your thighs. Both of you moan loudly when you cum, the hot jizz all over her back just as satisfying for Choerry as it is for you. You fire large spurts all over her, covering her pale skin with your thick load.

"Damn! Shit!" You're left speechless as your legs go weak, forcing you to sit on the bed. Choerry similarly slumps forward, sighing as she lands on the bed with a thump. "Are you okay?" Both of you are silent for a while, gasping deeply to catch your breath and process the fuck that just happened.

"Yeah, feels so good..." She tries to reach behind herself, and you quickly wipe the cum off for her. Choerry turns herself around immediately, pulling you into a passionate, almost desperate kiss. She's sucking on your lower lip, tugging with her teeth, trying to draw you in deeper. You reply in kind, tongue pushing past her lips, wanting to suck all the oxygen out of her, to leave her breathless once more. You're stirring for a third round, but you recognize the lack of sparkle in Choerry's eyes—not dimmed by lust, but dulled by fatigue. It's time to call it a night.

"We should rest."

"Huh? Sure... my clothes, where?" From the sleepiness and pleasure rendering her brain earlier Choerry makes just enough sense, and you grab her clothes, helping her slip them on before she bundles under the covers. You manage to find your own boxers and put them on before joining her in bed. As you sidle next to her under the covers she shifts herself closer to you, resting her head on your shoulder.

"Good night," You murmur, and a smile is all she manages before her eyelids droop, and she's off to dreamland, a hand on your chest feeling your heartbeat. You just hope it doesn't wake her up.

That amazing smile.

You fall asleep eventually. When you wake up, you unfortunately don't see Choerry snuggling next to you, but you do hear the clink of cutlery on dishes outside.

"Good morning!" Choerry calls out cheerily as you step out of the bedroom. You rub the sleep from your eyes and blink—you blink very quickly. Choerry's dressed simply in a white singlet and powder blue shorts, there's a bit of red on her neck from where you left your mark last night, but she looks otherwise flawless.

"Something to eat?"

"Sure, whatever you're having there I guess."

She quickly gets you a bowl of granola and yogurt. There is a quiet awkwardness to the whole thing, and you wonder if you should have put on all of your clothes before coming out rather than just your t-shirt. Choerry's eating silently next to you, both of you thinking about the same thing.

What do I even say?

"So umm, I have to go to work later." Choerry states quietly.

"Right, let me get out of your way, let you prepare—"

"No! I mean, there's no rush. Please, finish your food. Oh..." She notices a bit of yogurt on your lip.

"What is it?"

"You have a little—" She points to her own lip, but you miss it, because for a second she looks so pretty you can't tell left from right. "No, let me get it" She leans in—

She's kissing you again. Choerry's smudging the yogurt, tugging on your upper lip, cleaning it for you. She often joked about how her unnies were always finding chances to steal away and be with their boyfriends, but she understands their actions a little better now, now she's just like them. The attraction is magnetic, and as soon as she's close enough she wants to kiss you, touch you, feel you against her body— Fuck she's wet again. Choerry's shorts land in a pile on the floor and she swings her legs across your lap, straddling you. 

"One more time. Want to feel good again." Choerry murmurs. Now the passionate and desperate kiss from last night returns in full force. You drop your cutlery with a clang, and she's light enough that you can squirrel your boxers down just the right amount.

"Ch-Choerry!" Your tip is engulfed in her wetness almost immediately, and she's whining into your gasp, both reactions to just how needy and ready she is for you.

"Let me ride you!" She's asking, but not really, as Choerry's already starting to rock her hips back and forth on top of you. More and more of you slips into her, and her husky moans get louder and louder. You're buried in her neck, and Choerry let's her top slip down, an invitation for you to play with her chest. 

"Mmm!" She whines when you kiss along her bust line, hands on your head urging you to do more. You make her slow down, steadying her so that you can take a nipple between your lips, gently sucking and licking it. "Yes, just like that..." The frantic riding settles into a slower but no less intense grind, as if you playing with her tits has made her tighten around you, and she's savoring every inch of your cock she's taking even more. You play with both of her breasts, and her moans get quieter and faster, her lungs struggling to keep up with the sinuous and sinful exercise she's putting herself through.

"Mmm, I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" Choerry flings her arms around your neck and crushes you against her. She buries her face in your hair to muffle her cry, the vibrations rattling you to your core. You help her along her orgasm, pulling her waist towards you each time she clenches around you, adding wave after wave of pleasure and extending her peak. When she finally recovers your connection is sticky, and Choerry is a bit of a wreck—top pulled down, hair mussed, a pale skin flushed with pleasure.

"J-Just one more..." she mumbles, beginning to ride you again. Choerry's not really "pent up", but her body's asking the question her heart hasn't put into words yet—"Where were you all this time?!" Now she's more surprised that the unnies spend so much time with the group—if she had a boyfriend like you she would be spending as much time as possible with you and not the group! She throws her head back and lets out a low moan, hilting herself and cumming again all over your cock.

"Fuck Choerry, I'm close, you need to get off!" You're throbbing hard inside her. If last night was Choerry losing it because of your fucking, today morning is Choerry taking charge, fucking you, and making you lose it—you're going to cum even harder than last night. She's sweating, her entire body just as hot and wet as her walls are wrapped around you. At your warning she seems to ride you even harder, her moans long and low.

"Choerry!"

"Do you trust me?"

"What?"

"Just do what feels good, trust me." Choerry's holding your face in her hands, begging you to say yes.

"Yes, I— Oh fuck! Trust you!" You can't form a coherent sentence either.

"Just tell me when, tell me when you feel good, last one!" Your hands settle on her waist, trying to steady her, but Choerry's movements only get more intense, borderline violent—her knees dig into your hips and she's bouncing herself in your lap, your thighs taking a beating against the chair. 

"Want you to cum, please, please..." She's determined to drag you off the cliff with her, struggling to maintain eye contact with you as her chin dips down, her body bracing and holding off her own orgasm best she can. The way she calls out to you, moans for you, her walls clenching around you with raw need, it all becomes too much.

"Fuck, now!" you groan, and Choerry has a split second to decide if she should get off you or sink even deeper in your lap, but the only thought her in mind is—

Do what feels good.

"Fuck yes, oh yes, ohhh yes yes yes! Oh my god!" Her words and your moans ring loudly in the apartment. Choerry spreads her legs and lowers her hips, and your arm around her waist pulls her in on instinct, both of you making sure that she takes every last inch and every last drop of cum into her. The burst of warmth in her womb and surge of bliss rips through her body, tearing a scream from her as she loses control. Choerry tries to close her legs, as if it's too much to experience, but all it does is trap you in place, keeping you there as you continue pumping her full of thick seed.

"Ahh, it's so hot, so much..." And it quickly becomes too much, the flow of cum into Choerry seeming to reverse—a sinful mix of you and her leak out the sides, coating your shaft as the two of you tremble and shudder, tangled together in the heat of explosive intimacy. When Choerry manages to gather herself again she sees you still recovering, head tilted back and looking like a man totally drained. Only now does she wonder about her decision—was it reckless, was it safe, was it what she wanted? Yes, yes, and yes. But there is one question Choerry doesn't know the answer to—What would you think? Would you think less of her? She told you she doesn't normally do this, yet she just let you—

"Worried?" you ask, knocking her out of her reverie.

"Yes, I mean no, not about that, I'm umm, safe." How does she even ask a question like that? How does she even begin to phrase it?

Meanwhile you have your own worries. You wanted this to be more than a one-off, but Choerry is so far out of reach. From the waist up, blushing slightly as she fixes her top and hair, Choerry looked like a virtual angel. Yet she's in your lap, panties pulled to the side, with what's left of your morning wood leaking out of her freshly fucked pink pussy. What do you even say to someone like her, the perfect girlfriend and perfectly ruinable lover, to appeal to her? You settle for reassuring her for now.

"I'm with you all the way, whatever happens." Choerry opens her mouth to dispute, to tell you that's not what she's worried about, but as you brush her hair tenderly, she realizes you've answered everything she couldn't put into words. When she leans in, asking for a kiss with a pout, you realize you've said everything you needed to say, and you give her a kiss happily.

The magic ends when an alarm on her phone sounds.

"I need to leave soon, do you mind getting me some tissues?"

"Oh, yeah of course." You find her the tissues, and she does her best to quickly clean up. "Should I go first? I'll give you your privacy."

"No no, I'll be done quickly, the rest I can do at the salon. Here's your clothes." Choerry disappears into the bedroom as you get dressed in the living room.

"You go to a salon for work?" you ask her as she comes out fully dressed.

"Yeah umm for makeup, I'm an idol."

"Oh, so... we can't meet again can we?" You have a sinking feeling—after the best night of your life, you might be facing the worst day right after.

"No, we just have to be careful, go to less popular spots, or at odd times, stuff like that. I... hope that's okay?" Choerry holds her breath, praying that it isn't a dealbreaker.

"Yeah, no that's great, we can do that." Both of you breathe a sigh of relief internally as you enter the elevator. "I'd love to take you out somewhere quiet, one where we're not jumping out of our shoes every few minutes."

"Yes, no spiders and zombies."

"And ghosts," you remind her.

"Right, they're the same thing." Choerry realizes that the elevator is close to ground floor, that she's close to being in the public eye once again. She takes your phone and puts her number in, shushing your indignant sputtering about zombies and ghosts with a peck on your lips. 

"It's a date then, don't make me wait."

She feels her phone vibrate almost immediately after she leaves you, and she's smiling at your invitation for next weekend as she tumbles into the van with the other members.

"Choerry yah, did you get back okay yesterday? I'm sorry they wouldn't let you in, you could've just stayed home the whole time!"

"Oh no unnie it was fine, I'm glad I went all the way."

A/N: Haunted house fic a month after Halloween lmao. Anyways been wanting to write Choerry for a long while but didn't have the best setup for it until now, so I kinda overcooked it with scenes and pics XD Hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading!

[ventique18]

Malleus: "I hope you tolerate their antics as merely children playing."

Leona: "I don't wanna be called a child by some lizard bastard who gets his nappy changed by nannies even during Halloween."

Malleus: "Kingscholar... You seem to be blind in both eyes. You and Skellington make a great match, won't you agree?"

😭😭😭 Finklestein was asking the Decoration Crew MalleusIdiaLeonaVil how they spend their Halloween in their world, and Malleus began explaining that they decorate their own dorms and compete. He claimed that Diasomnia had the spookiest theming last year and the others began complaining because they're just dark and gloomy LMAO.

Idia says they're the best because they had the latest technology, but Leona said the surveys had complaints that Ignihyde students talked waaaay too fast and no one understood what they said. If anything, Savanaclaw's was the best and was popular, but Vil said literally everyone was scared of Savanaclaw and no one dared to go because of the muscle men scaring everyone away. Vil said they were the most beautiful instead, but Idia pffffted and said when it comes to "not understanding anything" contest it's gotta be Pomefiore because of how haughty and "abstract "poetic" they are.

Finklestein then explains that they also get trophies for working hard during Halloween, so the boys need to stop fighting and start working.

Leona: "Well, I'm sure it won't be Mr. Gloomy Lizard over here at least."

Malleus: "Is that so? I believe I'd fair a lot better than some churlish cur."

Finklestein: "Ah. I wonder who'll win the much-coveted 'Scared Stiff Award' this year? Or the 'Clingy as a Leech Award'?"

Idia: "Scared Stiff Award..? What last century boomer even came up with that lame name?!"

Vil: "Clingy as a Leech? There's a category for leeches?"

Leona: "... Malleus, you can have the trophies." 😭😭😭😭

[justice4billiam]

I had this little thought.

Billy always calls you pet names and that’s just the norm because he’s a flirt and then there’s you who never calls him a single cute pet name ever. But one particular day you were like talking to the cat or dog or something and call it a cute nickname only to look up at Billy and see him red in the face because he thought you were talking to him for a second. So you go in for the kill with it and it practically does kill him. So now you only call him that nickname when you truly want to see him squirm

Billy Hargrove x Fem!reader

Word count: 4,152

Warnings: Nothing too bad. Just Billy being Billy. Maybe even a little less of himself actually.

Author’s Note: OMG. I am SO sorry about how long it took me to get this out. I'm such a perfectionist, and for some reason, even as I post this, it doesn't feel all that great, but I hope you like it all the same.

Oh Baby

Billy Hargrove made a splash from the start.

He came cruising into the small town straight from the sunny shores of California, his cocky attitude and smirking face challenging anyone who crossed his path.

Everyone knew he was too big for a town like this, attracting stares and whispers as naturally as he breathed.

Billy had quickly become known for his flirty nature with the women of Hawkins, his inventory of pet names given with devilish grins and gazes that lingered just a second too long.

Handing them out like candy on Halloween with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

But you?

You were the exception.

You were the challenge he couldn’t quite figure out.

Oh, how he wanted to.

The one girl who didn’t fall, the mystery that kept his mind racing.

You had always kept Billy at a distance, a boundary he seemed determined to cross. His invitations to hang out were met with polite declines, his attempts at conversation answered with noncommittal hums.

It wasn’t that you disliked him, in fact you were very aware of just how attractive he was; you just weren’t interested in being another name on his list.

But Billy was nothing if not persistent, acting like he didn’t even hear you most of the time, taking your rejections as a challenge.

It was on a day when the sky was a clear blue that opportunity knocked on Billy’s door—or rather, your car broke down.

Your car gave up on your way home from work right when you needed it the most, leaving you stranded with the hood open, staring at the engine.

As spring neared its end, the heat had become unbearable already causing sweat to drip down your face as you stood on the side of the road.

And what a coincidence that Billy would drive by, his Camaro growling like a hungry beast.

His car slowed to a stop in the lane, right beside you. Leaning over, he rolls down the passenger window, and peers out with raised brows.

“Need some help, sweetheart?” he enthusiastically calls out, his voice laced with amusement, clearly savoring the unexpected opportunity before him.

The urge to decline was immediate, yet you found yourself hesitating.

Accepting his help meant opening a door you’d fought to keep closed, and you weren’t sure you could take the consequences of letting him in.

But the sun was unforgiving, and your knowledge on cars was practically nonexistent.

That left you with two other choices: a long, lonely ten mile walk home or risk waiting for a stranger’s help, which, given the obvious, seemed like a stupid option.

Billy’s offer, which seemed honest enough, suddenly felt like the lesser evil here.

You gave an exasperated sigh and nodded your head.

“Alright, fine.” You grumbled under your breath.

The sight of Billy's smug grin made you instantly regret your decision as he pulled over a little distance up, and as usual, he looked like a model; his blonde curls blew in the wind as he got out of his car.

He kept his gaze on you, the same cocky look on his face as he boldly adjusted the front of his jeans before approaching.

"Hi." He greets cutely, stopping right in front of you, a little too close for your comfort.

Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes, you meet his gaze with an even look.

“Billy,” you acknowledge, your tone flat.

You could already tell he was going to be insufferable.

Billy’s grin was all charm as he leaned in.

“Having a bit of a day, are we?” he teased, casually flicking away a strand of hair that clung to your sweaty forehead.

The eye roll was involuntary this time, and without a second thought, you swatted his hand away.

“Are you going to help or are you just going to stand there?” you challenged, taking a step back.

Normally, you wouldn’t let anyone get to you so easily, but he was right—you were indeed having a rough day, and Billy had a knack for being an infuriatingly good pest.

He matched your retreat with a step forward, maintaining the intimate distance.

His gaze was unwavering, a hint of amusement revealing his enjoyment of your obvious annoyance.

Billy inched closer, the trace of a grin on his lips.

“Easy there, sugar,” he hummed, his words a soft whisper against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

As he moved past you, his body grazed yours just enough to leave a faint but unmistakable scent of his cologne—a secret tingle that you tucked away, never to be spoken of.

It was a sensation that you'd have never felt before, one you’d vehemently deny if ever questioned.

“I’ll take a look,” he stated simply, his attention already on the engine.

You paused, taking a deep breath to brace yourself against Billy’s bullshit. You knew he thrived on getting reactions, and you were determined not to give him the satisfaction. Ever.

With a measured step, you leaned in, your gaze fixed over his shoulder. You tried to follow along with his movements but they were a mystery to you.

However, the concern that suddenly showed on Billy’s face was clear.

A sharp breath caught in his throat, his hand freezing mid-motion. It was clear from his expression—whatever he saw, it wasn’t encouraging.

Billy stepped back from the car, and you reached into the backseat, rummaging through the clutter until your fingers found the familiar fabric of an old T-shirt.

“Here,” you offered, holding it out to him. He took it with a nod, wiping the oil from his hands.

“The bad news?” Billy’s started. “Your car’s distributor cap is cracked, and the timing belt’s snapped,” he stated plainly. “It’s not going to start without some work.”

You let out a weary groan, hands instinctively covering your eyes.

Why was the day just getting worse and worse?

This is what you get for leaving work early when they clearly needed you.

Karma really was a bitch.

Billys fingers tried to gently pry yours from your face, but you pulled away, fixing him with a dull glare.

His chuckle was barely there, and the boyish smile that followed was a detail that, despite your better judgment, you found quite charming—even if he was a heartbreaking jerk.

“Look at it this way,” Billy began, a hint of mischief in his voice as he shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m pretty good with my hands. We’ll take my ride to the closest phone, call for a tow, and get your car sorted out quick.”

Taking a step toward Billy, your suspicion was clear.

“But why?” you asked, eyes narrowed as you frowned in his direction.

You know what he was like.

He’s in your gym class, usually tough on people, and he doesn’t do special favors. Billy isn’t the type to help out without an angle, and you guessed he might be trying to get on your good side.

But you have never been the type to fall for his bullshit and he knew that.

Billy’s irritation was evident.

He exhaled a deep sigh, his eyes briefly darting to the side before locking onto you with a fiery intensity.

 “Do I need a reason?” he challenged, his tone sharp. “You need the help or not? Because I’m not sticking around if you don’t want it.”

With that, he pulled out a cigarette, lit it with a practiced flick of his lighter, and quickly pocketed it again.

You rolled your eyes, a combination of frustration and nerves as you clasped your hands together tightly.

 “Uhm—no—I mean, yes!” The words tumbled out in a hurried stutter.

“Sorry, I’m not trying to be rude. Yes, thank you, I could really use the help,” you said, the genuine gratitude finally surfacing despite the awkward exchange.

The hardness in Billy’s eyes seemed to dissolve, replaced by a hint of warmth as he gazed at you. He took a drag from his cigarette, the tension visibly leaving his shoulders.

“Alright,” he sniffed, a trace of his usual flirtatiousness returning. “I’ll get your car fixed. And who knows? Maybe you’ll owe me a drink after this.”

You let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “Keep dreaming,” you said, the doubt in your voice barely hidden.

He nonchalantly shrugged, the cigarette dangling from his lips as he pushed the hood down with a clunk.

Frowning, you watched him—it was clear that this was his plan all along. It was almost funny how obvious his intentions were.

But you felt like denying his help was a bad choice.

The thought of walking for miles was not at all appealing, and you were actually thankful for his offer to fix the car, knowing it would save you a significant amount on mechanic fees.

You offered a slight nod to Billy’s when his eyes found yours again.

You then walked over to your car, locking it with a deliberate push that made a sharp clicking sound. After ensuring everything was secure, you turned and hesitantly began to walk towards his car.

Billy strides were confident and unhurried, reaching the passenger door of his Camaro before you.

He opened it with a casual flick, the gesture almost too practiced.

You eyed him, the suspicion in your gaze clear as day, but you held your tongue to avoid sparking another tiff.

Instead, you communicated your question with a simple arch of your eyebrow as you took your seat.

As you settled into the passenger seat, Billy’s voice broke the slightly awkward silence, his tone laced with playful arrogance.

“You know, dreams are just plans waiting to happen,” he quipped, the cigarette bobbing with his words.

He flashed a quick, roguish grin as he shut the door, the sound punctuating his words.

You rolled your eyes so far back, you half-expected them to get stuck.

"You're aware of how annoying you are, right?" You couldn't help but remark as you watched him slide into the driver's seat, your eyes unintentionally diverting to his crotch as he adjusted himself.

Billy’s voice was low, a teasing edge to it. “Eyes up here, sweetheart,” he muttered, and you quickly lifted your gaze to his face, feeling your cheeks warm when you’re greeted by that infuriating smirk of his.

"And sure, I might be annoying," he conceded, smirking as he cupped himself through his jeans.

"But deep down, you're into it," he declared with certainty.

You gasped as the heat in your cheeks grew.

Quickly, you averted your gaze to the windshield, the outside world suddenly way more interesting.

He added, "even if you're not willing to admit that yet," his laugh was a low rumble as he capped off his comment by starting the car, the engine rumbling to life assertively.

He was infuriating, no doubt about it. Each smirk, each nonchalant shrug sent waves of annoyance crashing through you. Yet, there was something else, a whisper of a feeling you refused to examine too closely.

But deep down, you were pretty sure it was all a game to him. He didn’t actually like you; he was just chasing a thrill.

And even if you entertained the idea for a second, it would end as soon as you let him in—literally.

The moment he got what he wanted, the momentary excitement would fizzle out, leaving nothing but the echo of your own doubt and a raw, exposed part of you that you really didn’t want to deal with.

Choosing to ignore his advances was the safest bet, even if there was a small, secret part of you that wanted to knock him down a peg.

_______

Billy had kept his word.

The search for a payphone ended at the nearest gas station.

He stepped up to the phone, dialed the tow service, and with a casual strut, he said, “Yeah, I need a tow for my girl’s car. It’s over at Fifth and Lexington.”

You scoffed, your eyes wide with disbelief. His girl’s car? 

The words striking you bizarrely. 

Since when did you become ‘his girl’?

The thought was foolish, and yet, it unsettled you in a way you—again—didn’t want to explore.

But the fact that he knew your address without asking was even more disconcerting. How does he know where you live? 

That question nagged at you, adding to the mystery that was Billy.

He continued to speak into the phone, giving directions with a knowledge that bordered on intimate.

It was strange, yet there was a part of you that couldn’t help but feel a flicker of… something.

At the auto shop, Billy handled the costs with a casual ease, and you were left with a blend of emotions—surprise, a touch of gratitude, and a stubborn refusal to fully acknowledge either.

“It’s all taken care of,” he said, brushing off your attempts to pay him back.

So, as the tow truck pulled up at your house, you were ready this time.

You caught Billy’s eye, giving him a dull glare that said you knew exactly what he was about to do—and you weren’t having it.

With a swift motion, you handed the cash to the driver before Billy could even reach for his wallet.

His attempt to pay was unsuccessful, and the slight raise of your eyebrow made it clear you were the one calling the shots this time.

As the driver and Billy maneuvered the car into your garage, your gaze softened just a fraction, acknowledging his willingness to help, even if his insistence was irritating.

When the tow truck faded into the distance, you spun around to face Billy.

“I told you I could have helped you push it into the garage,” you said, exasperation seeping your words.

Your brows knitted together in a frown, a clear challenge in your eyes.

Billy’s response was a dismissive shrug, his smile unfazed.

“It’s fine,” he said as he shrugged out of his jean jacket and placed it in his front seat, his grin took on a teasing quality.

“Honestly, we’d still be out there on the side of the road if I waited for your help,” he joked, his voice light but edged with a playful tone.

Your gasp was reflexive, but the giggle that followed was more girlish than you expected, a sound that surprised you as much as the gentle smack you landed on his arm.

“I could’ve managed just fine on my own,” you countered, the roll of your eyes softening into something that felt dangerously close to affection.

He gave you a look that said he didn’t believe a word, but his nod was indulgent.

“Sure, sure,” he agreed, his smile broadening in a way that made your heart do an unexpected somersault.

Billy carried his tools from his trunk, his smirk sarcastic.

“Gonna watch me work, cutie?” he quipped, the playful edge in his voice clear. “I sure don’t mind an audience.”

You rolled your eyes, a response that had become all too common throughout the day and trailed after him into the garage.

“You’re insufferable, honestly, Hargrove,” you grumbled, though the annoyance was starting to wear thin.

He tossed a look back, his grin unwavering.

“But you wouldn’t have it any other way,” he teased, setting down his tools with a positive thud that resonated in the quiet garage.

Dragging a crate from the cluttered corner of the garage, you made yourself a makeshift seat. From this new vantage point, slightly off to the side, you watched Billy work.

The day was turning out to be pretty different.

Billy’s usual flirty jokes had a new feel to them, like he was actually trying to connect with you.

And seeing him with his hands in the car’s engine, he seemed to fit right in. It was strange to see him as more than just the guy who’s always either making a rude comment or trying too hard to charm you. Now, he was actually being helpful and knew his stuff. It was nice to see him like this, more real and down-to-earth.

As you kept an eye on him, you felt your annoyance start to slip away, and you began to see him in a fresh way.

It wasn’t a dramatic change, but it was real.

Billy was still Billy, but the good parts were starting to stand out more.

You just hoped that this nicer side of him wasn’t just an act.

With a dramatic sigh, you shoved your thoughts aside and stood up.

Despite your best efforts to avoid it all day, you found yourself heading straight into the very thing you had been trying to dodge.

“You want a drink?” The words came out softer than you intended, as you walked toward the door in the garage that led to the house.

Billy’s grunt drifted up from under the hood, his hands surely doing something important. Timing belt, maybe you mused, though your knowledge of car parts was very much limited to where the gas goes.

Heading into the kitchen, you actually felt thankful for your mom’s hospital shift this time.

It saved you from having to explain the boy in the garage.

The house was quiet, just the way you liked it. You weren’t lonely; you enjoyed your own company.

Sure, you hung out with school friends occasionally, but the calm of being on your own was something you cherished, even with your mom’s frequent work hours.

You took two Cokes from the fridge, their cans chilling your fingers.

As you returned to the garage, you paused to watch Billy.

Without his usual guarded demeanor, he seemed more genuine, almost endearing. 

He’s actually pretty decent like this, you thought, a quiet hum escaped your lips as you turned on the radio, filling the space with soft rock melodies.

Billy’s look caught you off guard, and warmth flooded your cheeks.

“What?” you asked, turning just enough to keep your blush from view.

His smile was soft, uncharacteristic.

“Nothing. You just have a nice voice, doll,” he said, his tone carrying a note of authenticity as he turned back to his work.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, placing his Coke by his tools, and sat down on your crate.

A small smile lingered on your face, enjoying the surprisingly comfortable presence between Billy and you.

You just sat there for a bit, humming along with the radio.

You tried not to make it obvious that you were watching Billy work, but he’s probably caught you staring. 

Every now and then, you’d catch him looking your way too. You didn’t say anything about it, though.

It was kind of nice, just being there together without needing to fill the space with chatter.

Your gaze drifted to the street when you felt a gentle pressure against your leg.

Startled at first, you quickly relaxed when you saw it was Pepper, your cat. The door must not have closed all the way behind you.

She rubbed against your leg once more, seeking attention.

“Come here, my baaaby,” you drawled, the word stretching out affectionately.

You picked her up and she immediately began to purr, content in your arms.

Billy’s movements paused, and he looked up, the late afternoon sun highlighting the surprise in his eyes.

The nickname had clearly caught him off guard, and a blush—a deep, rich shade you’d never seen—bloomed across his cheeks.

THE Billy Hargrove, always so sure of himself, now blushing and speechless.

He must have thought you were talking to him.

You couldn’t help but savor the moment, seeing the unshakeable Billy at a rare loss for words, all because of you.

With Pepper cradled in your arms, you rose to your feet, a newfound confidence lifting your stance.

You took a step toward Billy, your voice dropping to a teasing whisper.

“What’s wrong, Baby? Never had a girl talk sweet to you before?”

The nickname now felt like a playful taunt, a subtle shift in power as you watched him grapple with the unexpected role reversal.

Billy’s answer was a fumble, his words tripping over each other in a way you’d never heard before.

“I—uh, that’s not… I mean…” he faltered, his cheeks a deeper shade of red.

Witnessing Billy, always so sure and smug, searching for words was a delight you didn’t know you needed.

The smirk that spread across your face was instinctive, almost predatory.

“Don’t worry, baby,” you cooed, your head nodding slowly in feigned understanding. “I think I get it now.” The words hung in the air, heavy with implication and sweet victory.

Billy shook his head, his smile genuine and a bit surprised.

“Now that’s just not fair, doll,” he finally said, the words tinged with a hint of admiration.

He turned back to the car, his hands resuming their work under the hood.

You leaned in, a playful edge to your voice.

“Now you know how it feels for the rest of the female population.”

The sound of his laughter was unexpected, something you don’t think you’ve ever actually heard before, but you liked the sound of it.

A lot.

Billy’s voice was muffled by the engine.

“Wow, you’re actually fun,” he said, a note of surprise in his tone.

That drew a scoff from you.

“What made you think I wasn’t?” you retorted, setting Pepper inside and ensuring the door was firmly shut this time.

He looked up, giving you a look that was both accusing and playful.

“Well, it’s not like you talk to me, sweetheart. You usually act like I don’t exist,” he shrugged.

He had a point.

“Well—yeah…” you conceded, feeling a bit awkward as you rubbed your arm.

“I’m sorry for that. I just thought you were being nice because… well…” You trailed off, your eyes darting away as you felt your face heat up.

Billy exhaled, a note of understanding in his voice. “That’s fair.”

The casual admission made your eyebrows shoot up.

He continued, wiping his hands on a rag, “But I actually wanted to get to know you. Still do.” His words, simple and unexpected.

You took a moment to process his words. Could he be serious? After today, you found yourself hoping so.

This side of Billy was… different, likable even.

Releasing a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, you ventured, “I think I might want that too.”

Then, hastily, you added, “But I’m not sleeping with you!” just to set the record straight.

Billy’s smirk was anything but innocent as he nodded.

You shoved your hands into your back pockets, and for a moment, you both just stood there, silently assessing each other.

Then, his smile grew.

“I’m done here. Wanna try starting it up?” he asked, gesturing to the car.

“Oh! Yeah,” you said, a bit startled by the sudden change of topic.

You fished out your keys and climbed into the driver’s seat.

The key turned, the engine purred to life, and a rush of happiness bubbled up inside you.

You hopped out and, without thinking, wrapped Billy in a spontaneous hug.

“Woo, thank you, baby!” you shouted, the excitement making you bold.

Billy froze for a split second, the nickname catching him off guard, but then he relaxed and returned the hug, a chuckle escaping him.

Your own reaction caught up with you, and you pulled back, a blush coloring your cheeks.

“Oh—Billy—I meant Billy,” you corrected, but the moment had already passed.

Billy’s hands lingered on your waist, his smile soft but playful.

“I don’t know. I think I like ‘baby’ better,” he teased, his eyebrows lifting in a challenge and his eyes twinkling as they swept across your face.

You lowered your head, hiding from his intense stare.

“Oh, whatever,” you muttered, stepping back until his arms fell away.

You sighed, eyeing him again.

“But really, thank you,” you said with a nod. “I was this close to attacking the engine with a bat before you showed up.”

Billy chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.

“Ah, it’s no big deal, princess,” he said, trying to act nonchalant. “Plus, I got to spend the day with the prettiest girl around. So, yeah, worth it.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you saw his smile turn a shade more devilish at the sight of your blush.

Billy lingered there for a moment before he picked up his toolbox.

“Well, I should go,” he said, a note of hesitation in his voice.

You nodded, a quiet “Bye” escaping your lips, but as he neared his Camaro, a thought struck you.

“Wait, Billy!” you called out hastily.

He turned, a question in his eyes.

“What about that drink, baby?” you added, the last word emphasized with a mix of challenge and playfulness.

He paused, the blush on his cheeks visible even from a distance, but his smirk was undiminished.

“Eight it is, baby,” he replied, his voice carrying back to you with a hint of laughter.

As he got into his car and drove off, you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

Maybe Billy wasn’t so bad after all.

[bug-slappy]

sharing my opinion here about serizawas design inconsistencies over time (spoilers for mp100 ending) i feel like in each new rendition of serizawa weve seen in official art ever since the start of S3 something feels off in a different way with every new merch release

lets start here ⬇ serizawa looks like,, himself. accurate to how hes drawn since his first anime appearance

⬇⬇⬇ and then slowly,,, things start to look off. his jawline is slowly getting slimmer, his eyes look wider (same with mobs too)

AND DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THESE. especially the one on the right my god. who is that

every new promo art that comes out just feels very careless. I think you could say so for all the characters (mobs giant eyes, reigens waist getting skinnier/pointier features. the PROMO art of dimple that was literally FULLY TRACED OFF OF A TEMU PIRATE HALLOWEEN COSTUME. they all look bad here)

it just feels a little depressing how little they seem to care anymore, like theyre just trying to pump out merch without bothering to use a character reference.

i notice the changes the most with serizawa. every promo art looks like theyre playing a game of telephone. each version of him is based on the last, instead of his initial design (shown below)

at the end of S2, when reigen cuts serizawas hair, he still looks like himself. they did a great job of showing "how serizawa would look underneath his moustache and big hair". In S3 it feels like they've lost that mentality completely. like he's no longer based off of his original design, but an entirely new reference of his salary man look. some comparisons between S3 vs S2 and OVA down below

I find that the line weight in S3 is much heavier and unfocused. but what bothers me most of all is that... Serizawa looks different in nearly every scene... as if they're undecided on what he should look like. the shape of his nose and jaw, his hair all change depending on the episode entirely.

The art style change for S3 was meant to be "more accurate to the manga", but I find that it had the opposite effect. especially how serizawas and ritsus eye shapes changed. ritsus large pupils and serizawas more almond shaped eyes were more reflective of their manga designs there are plenty of inconsistences in S1 and 2, but they're clearly done with purpose to reflect on ONEs art style (my beloved). I feel like the thinner lines allow more room for detail and extreme facial expressions that truly hold a candle to ONEs insane talent for capturing emotions.

these ^^^ compared to..

erm.. this.. ⬇

just felt very underwhelming... and serizawa certainly does mellow out once he starts working at S&S, but that doesn't mean that there's less opportunity for detailed expressions !!

the yokai fight scene was beautifully made i have no qualms.. but the amount of serizawa lore and dialogue in the manga that got cut from the anime just made him look like a cardboard cut out standing behind everyone. lots of funny and interesting moments cut to make room for the moefication of serizawa katsuya..

I feel like there's a lot of important moments that were cut, (reigen "i hope i can become a partner like that" arataka, serizawa "ive had a similar experience myself" katsuya )

or sad, intense scenes that were made lighthearted (the body improvement club trying to help mob, mob and ??? dialogue being cut, reigen removing his shoes in the final arc made to be meant for better grip rather than... his passively suicidal tendencies )

i think the people at bones are very talented dont get me wrong, i just felt like S3 could have been adapted better. this keeps me up at night its like 1am :) anywhosies thank you for listening to my ted talk i love you

[dabisqueen]

trick or treat

Trick or Treat

Ghost/Dabi x fem!Reader x Konig/Shigaraki

⇢ word count: roughly 3.2K ⇢ plot: It's Halloween and you make the mistake of knocking at the wrong door.  ⇢ warnings: Minors DNI, tw smoking, consensual rough sex, rough kissing, rough manhandling, a bit of degradation, slapping, oral sex (m receiving), deep throating, cum in throat, unprotected PIV-sex, anal fingering, deep creampie, Ghost and Konig aka Dabi and Shiggy are actual sweethearts and take care of the reader later ⇢ A huge shoutout to my beta @blankexpressions-and-falsefires. without you, this wouldn't happen. without you, this wouldn't be as great. i am forever grateful for your help!

You and your friends were on your way to a Halloween party, which was going to take place in an old warehouse. The invites had been distributed months ago already, and everyone had been looking forward to it. 

What you were wearing wasn't very unique at all: Black high-heel boots combined with a short, ruffled red velvet skirt, a black petticoat underneath, and a matching red underbust corset. It pushed your boobs up so high that they nearly popped out any time you bent over. Thankfully, a white, off-shoulder blouse helped to keep a little bit of your decency intact. The last finishing touch was a red velvet cape. 

You guessed it—you'd picked the Little Red Riding Hood as this year's costume.

Getting off the subway station, your group walked down the dimly lit street, the wind blowing leaves and scraps of garbage along the street. The clacking sound of your high heels echoed off the walls and you wrapped your cape tighter around you and hoped that the warehouse would offer some shelter from the cold. Trying to avoid the cracks in the concrete with your pointy heels, you followed the rest of the crowd—as something off to the side caught your attention. 

A lone, lit pumpkin sat at a shabby door, a flickering lamp above it shedding just a bit of light.

“Hey girls!” you called out. “There's someone inviting trick-or-treaters over here!”

Your friends stopped and looked at the door you were pointing at. Nonetheless, they turned while your best friend called over “It's just a prank, forget about it!”

“I want some candy, though.” Pursing your lips into a pout, you stalked over to the other side of the street, calling over to the rest of your small crowd, “Go on ahead. I'll catch up to you later!” 

You didn't mind them rolling their eyes at you—cause you have been known to have the sweetest tooth of them after all.

Taking a deep breath you raised your hand and knocked on the door. Once. Twice.

No answer. 

Okay, you reason, it was just a prank. Just as you were about to turn, you heard voices closing in behind the door.

"Didn't think anyone would fall for this shit.” A dark voice hissed. “What kind of dumbass are they?"

"Beats me." Another husky voice spoke.

The door swung open and you inhaled sharply. Before you stood two men dressed head to toe in combat suits, one of them wearing a sniper hood, the other a Balaclava complete with a hard plastic skull attached to the disguise. 

Each of them was a character from the game Call of Duty– Konig and Simon “Ghost” Riley. 

The one dressed as Ghost casually leaned against the door frame. His eyes scanned over you, and your gut tightened, watching the brilliant cerulean of his irises take you in. His skull Balaclava, obscuring any other feature on his face, sent chills down your spine. The other's smoldering amber gaze grazed the curves of your body and lingered especially long on your décolleté before stopping back at your face. As far as you could make out, they both looked well-toned, and your gut instinct told you that they were stunningly attractive underneath those masks. Your heart started beating faster.

“Oh, look what we have here.” The man dressed as Konig mused in a sneering tone. “If it ain't Little Red Riding Hood.”

“What a coincidence—" his friend chuckled, his voice low and husky. "Cause you can consider us the Big Bad Wolves—”

It sent goosebumps crawling up your spine,  but you still bravely muttered with a shaky voice, “T-trick or t-treat?”

Konig and Ghost looked at one another, chuckling, before their gazes went back to you. 

"You really looking for a treat, little red?" Ghost cocked his head, brilliant blue seemingly burning into you.

Both men's lustful stares were unmistakable as they looked at your body with a desire mirroring the feeling that rose quickly in your chest.

"U-uhm, I guess?" You stuttered, heat rising into your ears now.

“Treat it is,” he said. With that, his strong fingers circled your wrist and he pulled you inside, Konig slamming the door shut behind you.

A shriek left your throat when he pressed you against the wall, his ghostly mask hovering right in front of you.

"You really want this?" He asked, tilting his head, "We'll only proceed if you do."

One hand propped him against the wall, the other trapped your jaw between thumb and forefingers. His hips wedged you in place and it sent a jolt of pleasure right between your thighs. You shamelessly squeezed them together, cheeks starting to glow with fear—and excitement.

"I-I don't know," you licked your lips as subtly as you could, and you could swear you felt him twitch in his pants. 

His eyes fixated on your lips as he pulled the Balaclava down from beneath the skull, tucking the fabric under his chin to reveal the lower half of his face. His lips alone, sharp and sultry, had you aching for more.

"I think you do," Ghost chuckled, his warm breath fanning your lips, the hard plastic of his mask almost brushing against your nose. His fingertips felt scorching yet delicate when he pulled you in for a kiss.

His tongue pushed past your lips, moving languidly around yours. The kiss turned raw and bruising, growing rougher by the second. His cold mask dug into your skin but the thrill of it all made you forgive it easily. Groaning into his mouth, your hands ghosted over his chest, feeling the taut muscles underneath his clothes. Your legs buckled, but Ghost was quick to react and slip a leg between your thighs to hold you in place. His firm thigh pressed right against you, delivering much-needed friction to stimulate your growing desire. 

“Fuck,” he breathed out, half-lidded eyes smoldering with desire when he broke the kiss. He pulled the Balaclava back and straightened up, chuckling at the sight of a wet spot left on his pants. "You really love this, don't you?"

You nodded hazily. You were given no chance to catch your breath as he dragged you to a small, square table nearby. His grip was rough but gentle enough not to hurt you. You shrieked again when Ghost pressed your chest flat against the surface. Konig stepped close, his hand stroking the heavy and full shape of the growing bulge beneath his clothes. Ghost clasped his hand tightly around your wrists, pinning them against your back, holding you down. 

“P-please be gentle,” you pleaded, having seen both outlines of their dicks —not small in size—  strain against their boxers, ready to be strangled by your tight pussy.

"Don't be a chicken. You agreed to this.” Konig rasped. “So, we get to destroy you, corrupt your little pussy—" 

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, and your heartbeat started to pick up as you struggled against Ghost's iron grip.

"Aw, don't scare our little bunny, Shigaraki" Ghost tutted, stroking your back with his free hand. "We aren't gonna hurt you, doll."

Something in his voice made you feel like you could trust him — you felt that he meant it — and your body relaxed, your breath evening out.

"Party pooper–" Konig grumbled behind his hood, as he rounded the table to stop right in front of your face. 

"W-what are you gonna do to me–" You swallowed thickly, thrill shooting through your body in a rush of  adrenaline. 

“You want us to be gentle,” his voice suddenly deepened, “Or should we treat you like the little tramp you are?” 

“I am no tramp—” you replied breathily.

“Hm— Am I wrong to think that this turns you on?” Ghost chuckled. “The idea of getting fucked by two strangers just like this?” 

Ghost's hand trailed up your thigh, hiking up your skirt and petticoat to reveal the curves of your perfect ass cheeks. A growl erupted in the back of his throat at the sight, his hand stroking the soft skin he found there. The coil inside your stomach tightened as you felt his crotch grind against you from behind. You realized he was giving you a small taste of just how much of a treat you would be getting. Trying to push yourself back against his thick meat, though, earned you a harsh slap against your ass with his tactical leather gloves.

“Ow!” you cried out, the stinging pain driving tears to your eyes.

"Fucking lay still." Ghost growled and you instantly froze at the sheer authority in his tone, a hot pulse shooting straight between your legs.

He leaned over, whispering against the shell of your ear. "So, little Red, what's it gonna be for you?”

Your lips parted in a strangled whimper. You didn’t want them to be gentle. You didn’t want them to be respectful. This was thrilling, you've always dreamed about being roughly taken, about being manhandled. 

“Fuck me, please.” You pleaded.

“It's Sir to you!” Ghost slapped you again, the pain searing this time.

"Yes—Sir—treat me like your cumdump!” You choked out, tears spilling from the corner of your eyes.

"Atta girl." He purred and you could almost hear the amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

Ghost pulled your soaked panties down until they dangled between your ankles and dropped to the floor with a wiggle of your heels.

"Why do you always get to use the pussy, Dabi?" Konig whined, annoyed even as he unzipped his combat pants.

"Cause you only know how to fuck, boss." Ghost chuckled behind you. "Not how to please."

You swallowed thickly, feeling your heart beating so fast.

His hand gently stroked your ass again as he hummed. "This is supposed to be a treat after all."

A sense of comfort washed through you but you knew better than to rely on it. And oh boy, were you right.

“Spread your legs,” he commanded, moving to stand in between them as you eagerly complied.

Konig freed his hard cock from his pants. It was so thick and heavy that it was hanging low even though it was fully erect. 

"Open up. I’m gonna fuck your face," giving it a few lazy pumps, he closed in on your face. His shameful words sent electricity to your nerves, and your mouth started to water as you opened it in eager anticipation.

Konig slipped the fingers of his free hand into your strands, holding your head still as he slotted himself at your lips before pushing his length between them. His spongy tip quickly slipped in and he let it rest on your tongue for a brief moment before pressing deeper.

Groaning against Konig's cock, you barely made out the sound of a zipper being undone behind you. Ghost lined up his cock with your soaked cunt, gathering your slick on his spongy tip, and only then was it that you knew that this really was going to happen. He snapped his hips forward without warning, quickly hitting resistance. 

The force pushed you down on Konig’s length further until its tip hit the back of your throat. He was breathing hard, bucking his hips forward, loving the way you loosened your jaw and let him fuck your mouth.

The man behind you slowly started thrusting into you, the metal barbells of his Jacob’s Ladder continuously stroking your insides, his Prince Albert piercing kissing your cervix and making you tighten and flutter around him. Each time he pulled out, his cock was covered in more of your glistening juices.

“Ah—fuck—look at that dripping cunt—” Ghost growled, rocking his hips against your behind, watching how your greedy, sloppy pussy kept taking him, even if he could only fit halfway.

They filled you up so perfectly—Ghost’s thick, pierced cock stretched your whole pussy without getting close to being balls deep, Konig’s heavy one sitting deep in your mouth, his fat testicles slapping against your drool-covered chin with each thrust forward. A gargled moan bubbled up your throat, feeling so stuffed from both ends, with Ghost's piercings rubbing perfectly against the spot that made stars erupt before your eyes.  

Goosebumps erupted all over your body as your mind began to swim.

"Aw, are you enjoying yourself?” Ghost leaned forward. "We'll make you feel even better soon...”

Then he started pounding into you, again and again until your brain was shut down. You choked between gasps as every thrust he made knocked the air from your lungs and forced Konig’s cock to slide deeper than before– until it was buried deep down your throat. You struggled to take it, breathing heavily through your nose, pleading watery eyes shooting up to his face to silently beg for a second of reprieve. 

"You look so beautiful, stuffed with my cock like this–” Ghost said in a voice that was just a low rasp. 

You were dizzy, breathless as he kept filling up your pussy with short, harsh strokes. He watched you writhe in pleasure on the table, your sloppy mouth stuffed with Konig’s dick. Ghost bent his head down and you could feel his breath on your neck as he inhaled your scent. 

"You're taking both of us so well, little cockslut." Konig's words made you whimper even louder, glistening eyes meeting his as you struggled to breathe.

With Ghost’s hand still pinning your wrists behind your back, there was no escaping the assault. He slammed his hips harder against your pussy until you mewled out in pleasure, his piercings rubbing your g-spot just right.

The feeling of both men relentlessly working themselves in and out of you was overwhelming. Heavy grunts and growls accompanied the wet sounds of your sloppy holes getting fucked as they worked themselves into a frenzy. Ghost's cock drove deep, but you knew with a little effort, you could accommodate more of him. You parted your legs further to give Ghost even more access to your cunt. His dick began to throb and twitch, his hips bucking back and forth to find the perfect angle to thrust into you. 

And he did find it. Your body shook with pleasure, making you squeal deliciously around Konig's length. Ghost let out a breathless chuckle and spread your ass cheeks, wetting his thumb before sticking it into your puckered hole.

His friend watched the scene before him, half-lidded crimson eyes glazed with lust and desire. The sight before him turned him on so much that his hips stuttered and he came without warning. He let out a strangled groan, his hand grabbing your hair tightly as he forced you to take his entire length, his tip slipping past the back of your throat. You moaned, feeling him twitch on your tongue, spilling his hot seed deep inside of you. His free hand rose to massage your throat, savoring the way you gulped and swallowed around his twitching meat.

“That's it, baby, take every drop of his cum," Ghost praises you. "Fuck– you're such a good girl.” He looked down to where you two were connected, his thumb buried deep in your ass, a sticky wet mess covering the base of his cock.

You tried to breathe but Konig didn’t budge, staying buried deep inside of you as Ghost picked up the pace now. He gave you strong thrusts that grazed the right spot, making your eyes roll back in pleasure. You moaned, your vision turning blurry. The lack of oxygen, the continuous onslaught from behind— it was too much. it pushed you over the edge and you came, clamping around his dick while your sounds of pleasure remained muffled by Konig's cock still buried deep inside your throat. 

Ghost kept pounding into you while you rode out the high of your orgasm and finally, Konig pulled his softening cock from your mouth, letting you sputter and gasp for the air he'd denied you. He let himself fall back against the table behind him, his flaccid, drool-covered cock still massive in size and twitching slightly. Reaching out, he pushed your hair behind your ear before wiping off the saliva dribbling down your chin as you frantically gasped for air.

Ghost behind you kept up the pace, rutting his thumb in and out of your little pink hole in a contrasting beat to his thrusts. It became too much— you completely lost it, overstimulated and moaning unabashedly like a porn star now. Your cunt spasmed around his cock for a second time and you threw your head back in ecstasy, crying out through your climax.

“There you go, you're so fucking hot coming for us, doll." Ghost praised, continuing to rock his hips against yours. His deep thrusts grew messier and messier, being himself close to his release. 

Konig watched, eyes glowing with re-awakening desire as he tucked himself away.

"I'm gonna fucking cum inside of you." Ghost let out with a low growl in his throat, sending goosebumps along your body. “Gonna fill you up, gonna breed you so good—”

He gained speed and with a final snap of his hips, he groaned out loud when he came, his hips stuttering as he shot ropes of hot cum against your womb. You could feel his cock throb with each shot, before he plummeted forward, breathing heavily. His chest pressed against your spine, and you felt his semen seep out, dripping onto the floor below. Silence took over the room while all of you tried catching your breath, hair sticking to sweaty foreheads, cocks sticky with release. 

Ghost started chuckling, pulling out of you with an obscene pop. His eyes were still glazed with desire as he watched how your pussy struggled to contain the load of his release. "You look so damn pretty filled up with my cum." he said with a hidden smirk as he kept pushing it back into you with his fingers. 

He stepped back to tuck himself away, and you stood back up on wobbly feet, brain foggy from the orgasms. Carding your fingers through your messed up hair, you reached for your panties but Ghost was quick to grab and stuff them into his pant pocket.

"Nu-uh," he tutted, his brilliant azure eyes twinkling with mischief. You sighed in defeat, trying your best to smooth down your skirt.

He pulled his balaclava down, slid his hand into his pocket to retrieve a pack of cigarettes, and lit himself one. Taking a deep drag, he exhaled slowly. “So, what were you doing here anyway?”

“I was on my way to a Halloween party with my friends.” You coyly replied, carding your fingers through your hair. 

“Ya still wanna go?” He cocked his head, smoldering azures taking you in.

“What do you mean?" You looked up at him through thick lashes, still damp with the heavy tears that had sprung from your eyes in the struggle to keep down Konig’s cock.

“What Dabi wants to know is if you wouldn't rather continue our little party.” Konig snickered.

“Oh.” Was your simple reply. 

“C’mon doll, let's get ya cleaned up," Ghost pressed a kiss against your forehead. "In the meantime, Shigaraki is gonna get us some  drinks.” 

He swung an arm around your shoulder, leading you toward the door next to the dimly lit bar on the far side of the room. “We still have more treats for you…”

Happy Halloween and thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! If you comment or reblog, you'll make my day!

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Zombie!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Zombie!Ghost, Reader

Summary: Being on the run from the undead doesn't leave much time for more intimate things, but once things start to settle a little an ache begins to form that you havent felt in a long time. What will you do when the only other person you are with is your former lover turned zombie.

Word Count: 4.8 k

Warnings:

Author's Note: here it is as requested. I hope I did it justice. Happy Halloween 🎃

You’d been on the run for months now, never stopping as hordes of the undead nipped away at any temporary calm would you seek to have. It wasn’t easy always having to look over your shoulder, wondering when you were going to get ambushed again or if you’d get overrun and you’d have to make your final stand in a blaze of glory. Something like that isn’t supposed to become normal, but after over a year of living in hell you kind of get used to it… Kind of.

That first month was the hardest since you had been completely on your own because in the chaos and confusion of that first wave as the everything fell apart, including the 141 you were stationed with, you’d gotten separated from everyone. Hiding in the sewers, scavenging for food like some kind of rat, it was torture. But then you came across someone you thought you’d never see again: Ghost.

He was holed up alone in an abandoned farmhouse back in the thick of the woods a town over from the base. What should have been a reunion with someone you knew was thrown off by the fact that he had in fact been turned into one of the undead. Out of everyone that you could have run into, why him? You two had history, the kind where intimate details were something that you shared, and now you were both thrust together once again only this time there were bigger things at stake other than if you’d get caught fooling around by the captain.

The strange thing was that even though Ghost had been fully transformed by the infection, it was not what you expected. You realized quickly that Ghost had kept most of his humanity, though the more finer details of his person were scrambled by the disease. Even though he could not speak anymore due to the fact that his jaw was broken, Ghost was still inside there. And the strangest part of it all was that he remembered you.

It wasn’t like anything you had seen from the horde of mindless undead and so instead of facing the unknown alone again, you decided to stick with him. For over a year you two stayed side by side and although you did not come across any others of the task force, it was enough to just have one another.

Honestly he wasn’t a terrible companion, though a bit of conversation would have been nice. Still, having him with you had its perks. Being one amongst the walking corpses had great benefits and Ghost used them to their full capability to keep you safe so that after a time, even though the world still sat in ruin, you two were not doing too bad. At least you were able to stay in place for more than a day now.

That’s where you found yourself, shacked up in a two story cottage you had found almost untouched and secluded in the middle of the woods. It was easy enough to make secure, as secure as you could having limited supplies, but apart from a few stray corpses stumbling by there wasn’t much action. That anxiety riddled tension that you had held in your chest for over a year began to ease and with that came old stirrings that you hadn’t felt since before the world collapsed.

An old familiar ache brought on by being near someone who you used to share such things with, the one that leaves you begging to be quenched, wormed its way back into your life and now that you had more time on your hands it was becoming a major problem.

You see, adrenalin has a funny way of fucking with your head: heightening your senses, making your pulse race, everything feels so much more intense. You were only human, one who still had needs which had not been met in so fucking long that you couldn’t even remember what it felt like to be touched by another and so having your blood always rushing and your skin tingling, how could you stop yourself from giving in to that most basic of temptations?

It was a shame that Ghost wasn’t an option now; you would liked to have him one more time as the world burned, but there was no way no… right?

So, instead, one evening after the perimeter had been secured and the doors re-bolted, the windows rechecked and the traps restrung, that ache reached its peak and you had to do something before it got in the way of staying safe. Sneaking off to the bedroom you had claimed for yourself upstairs, you allowed that overwhelming need to finally overtake you.

Leaving the door slightly ajar so that you could still be alert to any stray sounds, you laid down on the cushioned surface of the mattress, your pulse racing rapidly in your chest at the prospect of doing this. You made quick work of your jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper only enough so that you could access that throbbing between your thighs. Clamping your mouth shut in an effort to keep quiet you slid your hand down the front of your pants, down all the way until you reached your sex. 

A whimper filled your mouth that you choked back down; the last thing you needed was to alert a horde with your desperate cries as you worked yourself. It may have been a while, but you knew exactly what to do and extending your middle finger you split yourself open to find your clit, another whimper rising in your throat as you made the connection and began to draw tight circles around the bundle of nerves.

It was hard not to get worked up so fast as that remembered pleasure filled your mind and snaked its way through your limbs to make your body vibrate and as you stroked that pulsing bean you were brought back to those times when you and Ghost used to get lost in that ecstasy together. You couldn’t be blamed for where your mind wandered, not when you had to be near the one person who knew how to draw your pleasure from you, even if he couldn’t do it anymore.   

Before you knew it, you had flipped yourself onto your stomach and then onto knees to ride your fingers, hips grinding away as you imagined him underneath you. Fuck, the way he used to look staring back up at you with those hungry copper eyes, hands greedily clinging around the meat of your hips as he shoved you down harder onto his cock before he would inevitably flip you onto your back to pound into you; it was enough to make you salivate with need, but still you tried to keep quiet.

You thought yourself sneaky, keeping things to a minimum as you desperately drew out your release, but Ghost was not the same man he was when he was alive. His senses were different now, enhanced like a wild animal’s by the infection that took his life and made him into something entirely new. As he stood in the living room, staring blankly out the window to watch for any signs of undead, something caught his attention.

The scent of pheromones were on the air, enticing him forward to the upstairs. He followed it all the way to the back bedroom, your room. Slowly, silently, creeping towards the door, Ghost peered unblinking through the slit to watch you up on your knees on top of your bed, your pants hanging slack around your hips while your ass point upward towards the door. That motion, he knew it; that back and forth sway of your hips over top of your bed. 

There was another fragrance on the air now, something more familiar. Taking a deep breath, his heightened sense of smell caught the scent of your natural lubrication currently soaking your fingers and it awoke something deep within him like a fire in chest akin to what an animal feels when it goes into heat. His slack mouth began to unconsciously salivate as ingrained memories surfaced, flashes of remembered sensations from times when he too enjoyed such pleasures. Inherent, primal, a reaction as innate as breathing.  

It was then that he became acutely aware of a tightness growing down below and instinctually he cupped his hand around it, rubbing the growing bulge against his chilly palm. Was he actually getting hard? That was surprising as anyone would have expected that to not happen anymore; he had retained much of his humanity, but he had not had the time until now to explore all the facets of what that entailed.

The more he rubbed the more it grew until the front of his pants tented out near the zipper, straining so hard against the fabric that he had to wonder if he could pop the closure without even trying. God, it felt…amazing.

“Fuck, Simon,” he caught the whispered hiss through the silence as you pressed your body down harder onto the bed, onto your fingers, and it sent a shiver up his spine. The way you said that name he hadn’t heard in so long, in that desperate way almost as a plea to your lust to fulfill its unspoken promise and wash that euphoric feeling over you, caused memories to violently resurface. He had heard that before in just that exact way- from you.

Scattered and disjointed memories of you beneath him burst into his minds eye, brought back to life by the sound of your voice: you writhing with eyes closed, your skin glistening with perspiration in the pale light of a dimly lit room, bare breasts bouncing up and down with each of his strong thrusts, crying his name into the silence as you came.

If breathing was something he was still required to do those lungs would be heaving by now to bring in enough air as he was so worked up that he would surely be panting. His hand gripped tighter now around the head of his cock, stroking with more purpose now as his dilated pupils followed the curve of your back all the down to your ass to watch it bob up and down.

The pace of his hand quickened to match your rocking as if fucking you by proxy, stroking through his clothes while transfixed on you. Goddamn he wished he could remember the way you felt wrapped around him, but that sensation had been lost when he succumbed to the disease. All he could do was watch and enjoy the way your body looked while your movements became more sloppy as the warmth gathered in the pit of your stomach, that delicious heat that you had not felt in so long.

“Yes, yes,” you mewled under your breath while your thighs clenched around your hand as you were so close. You brought in another finger to join the first one and with both you slipped them inside your entrance; it was nothing like the way Ghost could fill you out, but it would have to do.

Bearing down hard while you kept the pace steady, your breathing more erratic, you finally reached the peak and spilled violently over the edge, tumbling down as your body writhed and jerked through the overwhelming intensity of that first orgasm. You stifled your cries as much as you could inside your mouth, but they still reached an unknown listener who nearly came himself if he had not had to move quick before being spotted.

…and that left him very frustrated…   

You fell onto the mattress, removing your fingers from your pussy as you breathed out a sigh of contented relief. It hadn’t been clear just how much you needed that until you came and fuck did you feel on cloud nine now. As you rolled over onto your stomach to stare up at the ceiling while you rode out the wave of your euphoric high, you swore you heard a series of strange movement just outside your door; a soft few taps that sounded like they were getting farther away which would have been out of place, but the house you were currently boarded up in was old and so you convinced yourself it was nothing.

Besides, if anything was truly wrong, Ghost would have already alerted you by now. 

It was several minutes you just laid there in the silence before you took one last deep breath to calm yourself as you got up to straighten your clothing and re-buttoned your pants, hoping that your self-pleasuring session had gone completely unnoticed to your companion as you headed back down stairs to double check that everything was still secure.

In his usual spot you found him standing, always watching with that unblinking gaze, but as you stepped into the living room his sight was immediately drawn to you. “Hey,” you greeted him, “everything still okay out there?”

The usual grunted reply was returned and you stepped over to where he stood, just to take a look for yourself. It didn’t hurt to have another set of eyes to catch things and you felt more comfortable checking for yourself anyway. Scanning the area outside you saw nothing out of place, but as you pulled back from the window you were met with those cold eyes directly staring at you.

Silently Ghost’s large hand came up to touch your cheek, rubbing his thumb across a certain flush pooling there that drew his curiosity and he grunted with a nod of his head at it. You diverted your gaze, suddenly self-conscious about how warm they were still, like a fucking beacon calling attention to what it was you were doing upstairs; not that you cared, but shit you didn’t need your business plastered all over your face like that.

“It’s nothing,” you reassured him with a chuckle. “Just got a bit warm I guess. I promise I’m not infected or anything like that.”

Fully expecting him to take you at your word you went to move over to the sofa, but his hand clung to the side of your face to keep you in your place. You tilted your head as he shook his own side to side slowly. 

“What? Don’t believe me?” you picked, slightly concerned about this strange development; he had not acted in such a way before and you did not know if it was a part of the infection or not. 

Again he shook his head before his eyeline lowered down your body until his sight stopped at the crotch of your pants. Shit, had he heard you? Could he smell the trace amounts cum still clinging to your cunt? There was no real way to tell, but the way his eyeline kept drifting down before meeting your own again was enough to indicate that he was aware of what you had just done. 

You cleared your throat. “You know what I was doing, don’t you?” you asked and was met with another nod, this time to the affirmative.

Well, nothing to do about it now; what was the point of denying it? “Look, I just… needed something to take the edge off okay?” you spurted out. “I mean fuck, I still have needs, even if they had to be put on the back burner for a bit while we tried not to get overrun. You of all people should know how I get sometimes. At least I was quiet enough not to cause problems for us.”

Ghost looked back at you with those milky white eyes, but there was something behind them, something that you recognized, something… yearning. Suddenly you were aware that his other hand was on your hip now, tracing sloppy circles around the soft warm skin just under the hem of your shirt. 

Goddamn the familiarity of his fingers lingering over old paths they used to take in times almost forgotten; if you closed your eyes, it was like you were right there back with him. Your chest was tight with the increased thumping of your heartbeat in your throat, the air not filling up your lungs as well now as he pulled you in a little closer to him until your bodies were against one another. 

That was when you felt something against your thigh.

“Can you…?” you risked asking the question. No, there was no way that he could still get hard, right? Right? 

A large, cold hand wrapped around your wrist and brought it down to his crotch where he rested your palm against it and to your surprise the bulge in his pants responded to your touch. Your eyes shot back up to his as your breathing hitched. 

“Fuck,” you murmured and was promptly met with a grunt from him followed by a deep chuckle. 

Perhaps it was the history, the knowledge of what his body used to give you; perhaps it was the need that you had not truly quenched fully yet; perhaps it was your memories that you’d used as you touched yourself; or maybe it was as simple as you still wanted him; whatever the reason it didn’t matter. All you knew was that you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting more of what you started upstairs.  

Hesitantly your fingers grasped at his shirt, slowly tugging at the seam as if to silently ask to be allowed to remove it. Never letting his gaze waiver, Ghost raised his arms and allowed you to pull it up and off over his head. His body was just as you remembered, though quite a bit more pale and the flesh discolored in places, but all the lines and bumps, scars and imperfections were the same and as you ran those delicate fingertips over his skin it all came flooding back.

This is crazy, you told yourself. But it was the end of the world after all, why not go out with a bang?

“It’s been a while,” you said, gaze taking him all in. “God, you always did make my heart race just taking off your shirt, ya know.”

“Uhh,” he grunted in agreement. 

The contrast in body temperature between you both was stark and he enjoyed the warm, tingling feeling your finger left behind wherever they went. He had not felt such a phenomenon in so long that it was like lightening striking inside his mind as nerve endings reignited. It went the same with his pants as you undid them to let them hang loosely around his hips.

Following your lead, he helped you out of your shirt as well so that you stood bare chests facing one another. Your nipples were already hardening as they hit the cool air and he ran a fingertip over the tiny rosebuds to feel them. You were perfection, a sight of decadent flesh that fueled that hungry need he had to abruptly cut off before and the more he stared the more it grew.

The couch sat just behind you and taking your hand in his he moved the few steps over it to take a seat. Grabbing onto your hips and turning you around, he pulled you down onto his lap to sit on top of him. That throbbing bulge barely covered by the pants slipping off him was straining even harder now and you had to open your legs so that it could comfortably stand at attention in between them.

Situated on him you leaned your warm, bare back against his chest, those muscles that you knew by touch alone were now clammy, yet still familiarly fit against you just as they always had. Ghost took those stiff, cold fingers and ran them slowly down the line of your neck to your chest, around the tissue of your breast and down still to the curve of your hip. 

Being touched that way by another, by him, after so fucking long made your skin tingle and you leaned your head back against his shoulder to close your eyes and simply enjoyed the icy prickles his fingers created. He brought those fingers back up all the winding way to your throat and then back down again, except he did not stop at your hip this time. 

Lower he walked those decaying digits into your lap, then inside the waistband of your jeans, and then all the way down until he was inside your panties. You didn’t try to stop him, instead letting your knees fall open to give him more access. The further he went the more he could feel just how warm you were, the damp heat radiating off your cunt and into his pulse-less palm as he cupped his hand around your sex.

“Christ,” you exclaimed in shock as your body jolted against him, your pussy still a good bit sensitive from before. 

“Uhhh,” he groaned in response, intrigued by how much he enjoyed causing such a visceral reaction and wanting to replicate it. 

Again your scent filled his nostrils, those delicious pheromones that he had caught a whiff of earlier, and it began to awaken something primal within him. Taking his fingers, he drug them heavily over the slit of your cunt until they slipped between your petals and into that still dripping core. Again your body jolted into him as those thick fingers rubbed the length until he found what he had unconsciously been searching for: a small bundle towards the top. 

“Ugh,” that deep groan was more breathless this time, as if he were enjoying the feeling of your juices coating his fingers.  

Cool fingers began stroking against your clit with a rhythm that was ingrained in him from past experience and it was like falling right back into old habits. Your hips started to roll over his hand as they were want to do in response to his movements so that it was like a dance of give and take and he had to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you from slipping, but it was worth it to feel the way your body moved.

Like an animal a strange compulsion awakened inside, enhanced by the disease coursing through his veins, and the untamed part of his new nature was flooded with the need to rut into you. The more music you made, the more it filled his chest until the sensation became too much to quell. 

With a growl he moved you both to the floor in a rush, ripping your jeans off of you in one strong tug before pushing you forward and pulling your hips up so that you had to get on your knees. He too knelt behind you as he shoved the fabric of his clothing down enough to release his engorged cock and taking both of your hips into his preternatural grasp, so firm that his fingertips made the muscle sting, he aligned the head with your slit. 

This was crazy, highly dangerous, and slightly insane, but you couldn’t stop, not with how your body felt being pleasured for the first time in well over a year by someone who knew it. Whatever the consequences you’d deal with them later, right now you just needed to be filled to the brim with everything he had. 

Instinct knew what to do and slipping through your petals a few times, he rested the head against your opening and with a strong thrust shoved himself inside as far as he could go. Goddamn you had forgotten the actual feeling of how big he was, but there must be something in being undead that made him even more engorged because his girth almost more than the walls of your pussy could handle. Fuck, you were so full of him that when he finally pulled out of you it would feel so goddamn empty it would physically hurt.

You were aware that his cool palm was on your back now, running up the length of your spine to just between your shoulders where Ghost stopped to shove your top half down further into the ground so that your ass would rise more and without more of pause he began to thrust in and out of you furiously. Each stroke stretched you out more until the sting subsided and that was left was the satisfying euphoria that comes with being filled so full.

“Simon,” you moaned out his name and a dormant part of his brain lit up. Hearing it for the first time upstairs was nice, but being inside of you as you breathed life into that moniker was the highest level of ecstasy he had experienced yet.

And he need more. “UH,” he growled with force as he slammed into you from behind to make your ass bounce off of his hips. 

You braced your hands under your head to steady yourself, but it did little; the man inside of you was gone and all you could do was hang on. Still, even with his roughness, the way his cock still reached those desperate nerve endings inside of you made the arch of your back even more pronounced. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” you choked out the exclamation as your voice vibrated from the impacts. 

Harder and faster Ghost pounded your pussy from behind, throwing caution to the wind as he grunted and groaned like a beast on the hunt about to capture a fresh kill. You were so fucking warm, so gorgeously wet, that even his dead skin felt reanimated so that each brush of your body against him had him reeling in pleasure. 

This was the closest he would get to feeling like a living thing again.

Stopping suddenly he ripped his cock out of you amidst your begging protests to flip you onto your back, brutishly pulling your ass onto his knees. Your thighs rested high around his torso, squeezing against him as he immediately thrust back into that warm, wet hole and expeditiously returned to that overwhelming rhythm. 

The room was filled with the wet, sticky music of your bodies slapping against each other as Ghost worked your hole for all it was worth with a reckless abandon that you had not seen in him before. This wasn’t love, not something tender, but only pure animalistic lust and the more he stroked in and out of you the more he needed.

And then he felt it; a warmth in his stomach like he had swallowed coals. It started faint, almost indistinguishable until it had nearly filled him full the more he kept going. 

He couldn’t stop, he couldn’t back down, he was so close he could taste it. You weren’t far off either, nearly at the peak of your second orgasm the harder his cock stroked in and out of you, stimulating your clit along with it just from the pressure of his thrusts. 

“Shit, don’t stop,” you pleaded pathetically to him, your toes curling into the air as you focused on your breathing. Right there, it was right there; all he had to do was keep going.   

A few more pumps of him deep in your core and that was it, like a hot flash of white light you cried out in shaky whimpers as your orgasm tore through with such force you shot up as your back arched and your hips bucked harshly into him. “Goddammit Simon, fuck.”

He wasn’t far behind as the warmth that had been building finally shot through his body, coursing like a burning river of fire through his veins as he ripped his cock out of you and through your thighs to cover your stomach in his milky white semen. The roar he released while he drained his cock dry over top of you rang out through the house like a wild animal’s cry until he hung limply over top of you, completely spent.

Everything lay still once again as you caught your breath, allowing your ecstasy to run its course before you even tried to move out from against him. As you came to sit up, once again you were met with his eyes watching you closely. It felt like he was admiring his handiwork: the flush in your cheeks, the sweat speckling your torso, the exhaustion in your limbs. 

He had done that…and he liked it.

You flashed him a genuine smile. “Well, that was something wasn’t it?” you laughed and he chuckled deadoan along with you. 

Maybe the end of the world didn’t have to be so bad after all. At least, now you both knew that there were ways to have a little fun… and oh fuck, were you going to keep having little bits of fun.