#and so I was wondering if I should dress like him for halloween | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dcxdpdabbles · 9 months

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DCxDP Fic Idea: The Contact, the Butler and the Sly Time Lord

Martha accidentally engaged Bruce to a higher being when he was two.

It sounds terrible, but she hadn't thought that the man wearing the Time ghost costume at her husband's Halloween Gala wasn't wearing a costume and was actually the physical embodiment of Time.

She just thought he took Halloween very seriously.

Mr. Clockwork was charming and didn't care that she had married from the lower level of first class. Her parents were rich, of course, but they weren't old money, and they certainly didn't have a lot of power to speak of.

Because of that, the elites of Gotham thought she wasn't good enough to be in a family such as the Waynes. It was so lovely not to be dragged into conversations that were thinly concealed insults.

Everyone else at the Gala thought Martha had no right to be there with them. Why was she just a few zeros off from being middle class, and wasn't it just so sad that Thomas would stain his family with her?

Secertly, Martha prayed Bruce would do something wild, like marry a girl from Crime Alley or even adopt kids in lower classes to make them all choke on their pearls.

Her son would be one of the most powerful men in a few years, and she couldn't wait to see what kind of hell he would unleash upon them. She would never push, of course, but it would be a nice fantasy to have every time she had to face passive-aggressive comments from ladies told by their fathers they would be a far better Mrs. Wyane.

" Why, hello there. Aren't you the cutest little thing?" Mr. Clockwork coos, smiling down at Bruce. He clung to his mother's skirt, his matching cowboy costume a miniature version of what she was wearing.

The boy had wandered over in the middle of their conversation once he was bored of coloring at his table. Martha couldn't blame her poor baby. There really wasn't much to do for those his age here.

Thomas had stated that children were usually not brought along due to being loud and distracting.

Martha wouldn't hear any of it, insisting her son would be going with them at the party or there would be no party. The majority of the elites believed children should be seen, not heard, and that boiled her blood something fierce.

Thomas had thankfully known when to pick his battles, so he allowed his wife to drag him to a costume store for a family costume to wear. He currently chatting with a group of investors in all his cowboy glory somewhere on the other side of the gala.

"Say thank you, Bruce," She tells her boy, but he only hides his face more, causing the two adults to chuckle. "Do you have kids, Mr.Clockwork?"

"Yes. Two daughters and a son" The man chuckles "All three are a handleful but I love them dearly."

"Oh, how wonderful. Bruce is my only son, but I want to give him siblings," she tells him warmly. She can picture Bruce chasing after his younger siblings dressed up as the Grey Ghost he loves.

She knows Thomas was worried about their chances of having a second child. He was informed not too long ago that he may suffer from secondary infertility. She didn't mind. If they couldn't have a child of their own by blood they could easily adopt.

Martha worked long and hard to provide good orphanages to the city. Maybe one day, a child from there could be her own. She'll have to speak to her orphanage managers- those in charge of the kids- to see if they could help her find one.

They have successfully been getting kids into good homes (At least she thought the number of children constantly changed, and the kids were never seen again, meaning the families that adopted them loved them enough to never return!)

Mr. Clockwork hums "how about giving him a spouse instead? My girls or boy could be a good partner"

Laughing, she assumes he meant her work on bettering the lives of the gay community- in honor of her brother who passed during the AIDs epidemic. "I'm sure Bruce would be happy to hear Mommy found him a husband."

"Is that a yes?" Clockwork eyes' flashed with an emotion that was gone too quick for her to identify.

"Yes, of course. If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all."

Mr. Clockworks red eyes - contacts? A medical condition?- gleam, and his voice takes on a strange rhythm. "Then so shall it be, my son Danny Fenton shall be married to Bruce Wayne per their Blood Mother and Core Father deal."

Huh. Maybe Mr. Clockwork is a nutcase. Suddenly, she thinks back to her father, who would often tell her that she lived in a delusion because he did not want her to see the horror that Gotham truly is.

Even when you think you're doing good, Gotham has a way of making your work into nightmares.

Was Mr. Clockwork one of those people he warned her about?

Thankfully, he leaves not long after that. He claims he must return to work before his co-workers notice him gone. She doesn't see him for the rest of the night and half wonders if she had been speaking to one of the wait staff they hired as extra help.

Not that she minded, but it made her think his name might not even be Clockwork.

She tells Thomas the story hours after Bruce is put to bed with a candy bucket and the last guests have all slipped home. Thomas is exhausted, having been playing host longer than her because Martha had left around eight to take Bruce trick and treating. Then she got home and put him down for his bedtime.

She got back to the party around eleven but it was a much-needed break from all the hostility that Thomas had been forced to face alone.

"WHAT!?" Thomas booms when she finishes the story. They had just crawled into bed, and Thomas had been rolling to his side for sleep before her words flung him back. "Clockwork!? You're sure you spoke to Clockwork!?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"What did he look like?"

"Um well he was in costume, but red eyes, blue skin, and he was wearing purple robes." She watches as the blood drains from her husband's face. "What is it darling? Who was he?"

"Oh, this isn't good....Alfred! Alfred!" Thomas frantically calls as if the devil had appeared in their bedroom.

Their servant and sometimes lover comes racing into the room, carrying a loaded shotgun. Ever since Thomas had met him overseas when he hired the British man as a personal bodyguard, he fell hard and fast for Alfred but he still deeply loved Martha.

He had sent Martha a letter detailing his feelings for his guard, and only after she had given him permission did he pursue the butler. Alfred had insisted on meeting Thomas' wife to prove that she was okay with him having a lover, so he had followed Wayne back home.

Then he simply never left.

Maybe because he was the best butler Wayne ever had, with his regal training and service in her royal highness' army, but she thinks that her own developed feelings for Alfred convince him to remain.

Alfred insisted that he was only a servant and thus could not be added to their marriage besides a bed partner occasionally. Still, Martha hoped one day they could convince him otherwise.

Bruce already saw him as a second father.

He looks at the pair, dressed in their nightwear in a rather enticing position (Thomas had grabbed Martha by her shoulder, to look into her eyes but that left them rather entangled on the bed) with no visible threat, and raises one brow.

Before he can say anything Thomas is all but rolling out of bed in a frantic leap. He tangles up in the blankets, falling gracelessly over the edge in failing limbs "Martha made a deal with Clockwork!"

At once, Alfred's handsome face drains of blood. "Oh dear, Martha darling, you made a grave mistake."

She can only blink at the men in confusion. "Who is Clockwork?"

"He has many names, but I knew him as Merlin," Alfred informed her evenly. He took her hand in his, the tremble in his fingers revealing his unease. " He had shown interest in Master Thomas before and was the one I protected him from. I barely fought him off and only due to outsmarting him. I would not be able to do it again a second time."

What?

"He is also known as a Fae or incubus in some circles. The kind that steals you away for fun." Thomas babbled from where he was pacing next to the bed, eyes franticly glancing about as if the bogggie man was about to leap out at him from the shadows.

For a moment, Martha wondered why her husband, a man of science and medicine who had never been superstitious, believed this Clockwork was some...some creature of myths.

"Martha, love, what did he ask of you?" Alfred questioned, bringing her hand to his lips as though kissing them would confirm she was safe before him.

"He asked for Bruce to marry his son."

"Oh, gods!" Thomas fretted, speeding up, his long strides becoming far more frantic. "Please say you didn't say yes."

"I-thought it was a joke, I didn't see anything wrong with it, I- said yes."

Alfred closed his eyes, looking like a man who had just been informed his death sentence had been signed by the Queen. "Then all we can do now is pray."

Years later, as Alfred is dusting the portrait of his deceased loves. He allowed his hand to trace the cover of Martha's painted smile and Thomas' strong jaw, mind filled with stolen kisses and sweet nothings that were ripped away that fateful night.

He is still struck by their loss. Every now and then, the knowledge of their death creeps in during his most mundane activities. It's like a kick to the chest every time.

Oh, how he misses them.

Ding Dong

The front doorbell jolts him out of his memories so violently it takes the aged Butler a moment or two to get a hold of his senses. He puts down the duster, climbs down the latter, and quickly makes his way to the door.

Stopping to fix his suit coat, he throws it open with a prepared smile. He expects extra help from the catering company Master Bruce hired for Wayne's annual Halloween Gala.

He was not expecting the two men, one looking nervous around Master Bruce's age and the other sly. His age is hard to gauge, but it may be due to time not affecting him as it did mortals.

Alfred's blood freezes at the sight of those cunning red eyes and smirk. "Merlin."

"Alfred Pennyworth." The demon chuckles. "I prefer Clockwork, as you know, but it's good to see you remember me. Most humans are prone to forgetting in their limited age."

"What are you doing here?"

"Why I came to fulfill the deal between Martha Wayne nee Kane and I"

"Martha is dead. Your contact is void."

Clockwork chuckles again, the sound as deadly as poison. "The contact lives as long as all those involved in it live. You know this."

Alfred presses the panic button on his wristwatch, knowing it sends a message to everyone in the manor to evacuate immediately. He will not live through this battle, but hopefully, it will give Master Bruce time to escape. "You will not lay a hand on Master Bruce."

"Come now, Alfred. We are to be in-laws. Our sons are joining in holy matrimony. Why the hostility-"

"Excuse me what?" The other man-demon? Ghost? Higher-being? cuts in, looking at Clockwork with brows knitted into a frown. "What did you mean holy matrimony?"

"Danny, you're getting married," Clockwork says with a cheerful wave.

"The hell I am!" The man barks, flushing red with anger. Alfred can hardly believe he just yelled at the monster. "I am not marrying some random guy!"

"It is the way things must go for the good of mankind-"

"Oh, go suck on a lemon! We both know that whole "this is fate" is bull!"

"You are embarrassing me in front of our new in-laws, younn man" Clockwork actually waves a finger at the fully grown human. "This is my one chance to marry you off to a good man. We both know that you can't attract a mate on your own."

"What!? Yes, I can! I've had girlfriends and boyfriends before!"

"And yet, no spouse! No wedding! Not even a ring!"

"Moby Dick, I knew this bonding fishing trip was a lie! You can't make me get married because of some contact you made when I was three!"

"It's not permanent! Martha Wayne said If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all. This means you both must want to be together after one year of marriage. See if you like it, and if you don't, I can always find you a new husband."

"This isn't returning a jacket to a store! I can't just see if I like being married Clockwork!" The man hissed running a hand through his hair. "We're going home. I'm so sorry for bothering you today Mr. Alfred."

Alfred blinks at the young man's sheepish smile, wondering if ti's a trick. "No bother at all."

"Danny, if you leave without marriage, Bruce Wayne will die in an hour due to breaking our contract," Clockwork says, crossing his arms. "Honestly, your sisters were far more mature regarding their marriages."

Danny punches him in the face with a glowing hand. The higher being falls like a sack of bricks.

"Right, I'm going to drop this one off at a nursing home, and then I'll return to marry Bruce. Only so the contact doesn't kill him, and I swear I'll only visit every once in a while until our year is up." Throwing- Merlin, holy shit- over his shoulder as if though he weighed nothing, Danny waves at Alfred and scurries away, vanishing into a green portal.

Alfred is left standing at the doorway, utterly flabbergasted. Distantly, he wonders if the hollowing wind is actually Martha laughing herself silly in the afterlife.

Carefully, he reaches up for his com, switching it on to the sound of his family's frantic bickering. They were all worried about him since he sent the alarm and were fighting about following policy or saving him.

"Master Bruce," He says faintly silencing the coms "Please come to have your suit fitted as soon as you can."

"What for?" His son asks, likely looking for a coded message, but Alfred doesn't have the mental capacity to make one.

"Your wedding, sir. It's tonight, courtesy of your mother."

The coms explode into chaos.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Alfred/Thomas/Martha #spirit halloween #In which Martha thought her lovers were making shit up about their epic battle against the Time Lord #Clockwork is Merlin because he likes messing with humans #Danny is tried of his adoptive dad trying to set him up #arranged marriage #Clockwork hords choas like a dragon and motherhens like a bear #Alfred is just tired

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cordeliawhohung · 7 months

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In Limbo [Chapter 2]

mafia!141 masterlist | In Limbo masterlist | general masterlist | taglist | playlist

mafia!Simon Riley x fem!Reader

[cw: alcohol]

It was always better that way; when you didn’t have someone trying to look out for you.

wc: 6k

It was always blistering hot in that damn restaurant.

Countless patrons packed tight into booths and tables throughout the building on that busy Saturday night, and the heat that radiated off of them was near suffocating. Sweat clung to every inch of your skin, especially in your armpits, and you had never found yourself secretly so grateful to be dressed in black because at least the evidence was invisible.

Despite your discomfort, you performed your job to the best of your ability, per usual. You weaved between tables as you led your guests to their seats, packaged at least twenty to-go orders, and only got yelled at by the waitstaff once for seating a family of five incorrectly. Really it was no different from any other night you worked. Things were always chaotic at a restaurant as successful as Sapori, which made things stressful, but your pay as a hostess was at least manageable. And they turned a blind eye when your hours started hitting over the fifty mark in a week, whereas most other places would be finding ways to get you to cut back in order to not pay you overtime.

It was always better that way; when you didn’t have someone trying to look out for you.

Except someone was always looking out for you, which is why you shouldn’t have been surprised when you saw Row strut through the entrance with an obnoxious pirate hat on her head. Your first instinct was to grab one of the menus and hide your face as if it would disguise you among the backdrop of the crowd behind you. Row was much too perceptive for you to slip away without consequence, so you continued to stand at your station with only a slight grimace on your face as she approached.

“Ahoy, matey,” she exclaimed, though with only half the enthusiasm you knew she could muster.

“I don’t think Jack Sparrow ever said that throughout any of the movies,” you said.

“Captain Jack Sparrow, mind you,” Row corrected.

“Right, of course.”

“I thought you would’ve remembered that better after you oh so ceremoniously dubbed me the name Sparrow after him,” she continued.

The thing was, Row could go on for ages like that, bickering back and forth with you until one of you got sick of it and complained hard enough that the other was forced to stop. Judging by the excitement that pooled in her eyes and the playful way she kept messing with her cheap pirate hat, you knew she could go all night if she needed to. Instead, you sighed as you quickly glanced over your shoulder, ensuring things were still going smoothly behind you before you turned your attention back to Row.

“What are you doing here?” you questioned as you fiddled with the stack of menus in front of you.

“I’m here to pick you up,” Row responded as if you should have already known the answer.

Just as you opened your mouth to question her further, the answer smacked the back of your head. Halloween. No wonder why she wore that stupid foam hat. Earlier in the week you had agreed to go to John’s club to celebrate the stupid holiday, and then completely forgot about it. Which is why you neared hour eleven of your eight hour shift. Usually you didn’t mind the extra hours, however, if you had remembered you would have been finishing your night off in a packed nightclub during a holiday, well… you would’ve been home attempting to recharge a long time ago.

“You’re off soon, aren’t you?” Row then asked when your silence started to stretch.

“Uhm, yeah,” you answered as your eyes flickered to the clock on your left. Five to ten. “Just give me five minutes and I’ll be good to go.”

In reality, no amount of preparation could ever truly ready you for any sort of intense social outing, and you dreaded arriving at the club the entire ride there. You had only been to John’s club one other time previously for Row’s birthday, and that had been more than enough for you. Despite it being years ago, you could still smell the rancid alcohol and feel the bass of the music ripple through your chest as if it would turn your organs into jelly. Everything was too loud, too much, too close.

But this was Row.

So when the two of you stood outside of that hulking building that shook from the inside out, you tried your best not to complain. A deep throb began to gnaw at the soles of your feet from standing for so long, and a tension headache blossomed at your temples, but at least you were offered the solace of entering through the VIP section rather than the main door. Countless people stood outside in line for even the slightest chance of being admitted, which should have made you feel special being allowed through another entrance, but you knew that meant the inside was packed more than work had been.

Except it got worse. Because it always got worse.

You almost didn’t recognize the large figure that stood outside of the VIP entrance, but once those dark eyes landed on you, you knew it couldn’t be anyone other than Simon Riley. That odd, searing feeling that had plagued you the night you went to dinner at the Price’s quickly returned as his gaze meandered back and forth between you and Row. They were soft, inquisitive. As if he couldn’t quite comprehend why you were in a place like that. As if he knew you didn’t belong in a place like that.

“Evenin’ ladies,” he greeted casually.

Even if you hadn’t recognized him visually, his voice would have been more than enough to jog your memory. You could still feel his breath tickle your ear as he leaned over your back to guide your hands into place while playing pool. The sound of him was a delicious baritone you were certain would haunt you in your sleep.

“Stuck on guard duty tonight, Riley?” Row teased.

“Somethin’ like that,” Simon responded.

“Shame. Well, Chip and I-” Row continued as she put too much emphasis on your name while she threw her arm around your shoulder, “-are going to get wasted.”

A slight smirk pulled at Simon’s lips and you couldn’t help but shake your head at Row’s triumphant claim. She could get wasted if she wished. You planned on trying to keep your wits about you best as you could in that foreboding place.

“That so?” Simon asked. He said it as if he attempted to challenge your friend, but he still stepped to the side and gestured to the open door behind him all the same. “Cheers.”

There wasn’t any time to glance over your shoulder before Row pressed onward, making sure to drag you along with her. Walking into John’s club was what you imagined walking into hell felt like. Thick, hot air threatened to singe your hair, and you instantly found it hard to breathe. Countless patrons surrounded the entryway, and it appeared that Row wasn’t the only one who felt festive as many of them wore masks, cheap costumes, or on the not-so-rare-occasion, straight lingerie. The cheering and chatting from the dance floor could almost be confused with the screams of the damned, and you found yourself taking deeper breaths than normal in order to supply your brain with enough oxygen to keep going.

“Come on!” Row shouted. Even with her yelling right into your ear it was nearly impossible to hear her over the mess of music that poured through the speakers around you. “Up top! More room!”

Despite the fact you were in the VIP section, it was still incredibly crowded. Whenever you thought of a section like that, you usually figured it would be a bit more sparse than that. Perhaps it was just that night, wild and full of insane antics, that caused the crowd to grow larger than expected, but there was slight reprieve to be found on the second floor. Though the elevation was higher, the air felt fresh as it had fewer bodies to attempt to weave through.

After you and Row got your drinks, the two of you made yourselves at home at a small table on an overhanging balcony that overlooked the dance floor. Surprisingly, it was quieter there than anywhere else, which you realized must have been thanks to the fact you sat behind the speakers for once rather than in front of them. Still, even with the slight break from the usual bustle, you couldn’t help but mess with the straw of your mostly full drink while your foot tapped on the floor.

“Well?” Row asked you expectantly. She said the word as if she had given you a question to answer, but it was the first thing that had been said between the two of you since you had sat down. “How have you been? Really? I feel like we weren’t able to talk the other night with all the extra distractions.”

“Oh. Well, you know…” you started, but the words died in your throat.

It was never easy answering a question like that. How were you supposed to twist your life into something interesting when you were anything but? All you had done since the dinner at her house was work, and if you weren’t working then you were sleeping with whatever free time you managed to scrounge up. No, the only things worth telling her were the things you couldn’t tell her, but it wasn’t like that was anything new. You had gotten so good at lying, you could almost convince yourself that you were just a very good storyteller.

Almost.

“Just work, mostly,” you excused.

“Oh, come on,” Row groaned. She took a quick sip of her drink (rum, as she made sure to point out) before overdramatically leaning back in her chair. “You always say that. It really is just work with you, huh? Don’t you have any hobbies? Don’t you get out? Try to talk to people?”

You nearly laughed at her questioning. Out of anyone in the world, Row should have known about your inability to really keep friends around. After so many years of knowing one another, those questions almost made it seem like the two of you were strangers. Maybe you were, in some way.

“I think we both know that getting out is more your thing than mine,” you said, attempting a bit of humor.

“It could be your thing too if you didn’t ditch me half the time I invited you somewhere,” Row countered, not as humorous. As if tasting her own venom, she sighed and leaned forward, face softer. “I meant what I said the other night. You are worrying me. More than a little.”

In order to give yourself some time to think, you raised your cup off the table to take a small sip, only to instantly regret it. Your childish, as Row put it, vodka cranberry was about nine parts vodka and one part cranberry juice. For someone who couldn’t afford to drink all that often, it tasted worse than cough medicine on your tongue, and you nearly choked.

“What’s there to worry about?” you asked.

“What isn’t there to worry about?” Row countered. “I mean, you’re working yourself half to death, it seems like you never do anything for you- hell, I don’t even think you’ve managed to score a boyfriend, let alone make it to first-fucking-base.”

“I think I’m doing just fine without a partner,” you interjected.

“My point is,” Row continued, refusing to listen to whatever petty excuses you tried to muster, “I’m terrified you’re still trying to punish yourself.”

It was difficult to believe that a place so full of life could fall so silent, and yet the only sound you could hear was the ringing in your ears. Tinnitus, the doctors said. Normal. Typical. Absolutely plaguing. There was nothing you could say in response. Her words stunned you, because unlike usual, she saw right through you. At least she put you out of your misery and continued talking so that you didn’t have to.

“Look, I… know we’re not really family. It’s not my place to say stuff like this, but it’s… fuck.” Row cut herself off with a chuckle and a slight shake of her head. “I know I didn’t know you before everything happened. Hell, you could have always been like this. But it’s concerning all the same. I just don’t want you to blame yourself for surviving.”

It must have been the alcohol. Surely. Row never talked about the accident, and neither did you. After all those years, a silent rule had settled between the two of you where you would never speak of it. Not when the anniversary of it came around. Not even when the events plagued your sleep. It was easy to pretend you were quiet about it for Row’s sake rather than your own; but really, you didn’t talk about it because you were certain the guilt would choke you on its way out of your throat.

“It’s not your fault, you know. For surviving,” Row continued.

You swallowed.

“I know,” you lied.

Row raised an eyebrow at you incredulously, and you quickly forced a half smile on your face before she could chastise you for your sloppy deception. Usually you were better at lying, but she had caught you off guard in what you could only assume was quite literally a plea to get your shit together.

“I don’t think I’ll ever not feel guilty about it, Row,” you said a bit more truthfully. “That’s the kind of stuff that stays with you. But I know it’s not my fault, and I’m not trying to self-sabotage or anything but I’ll… try harder.”

A bittersweet smile crossed her face and you found your eyes adverting to the cup of bitter liquid in your hands in order to avoid the sight of it. She was much too caring for someone who didn’t deserve it.

“Well, good. I know it’s more complicated than I’ll ever be able to understand, but I just want to make sure that you know you’re not alone in this. You’ll always have me, no matter what,” she finished, but the words rolled off of her tongue awkwardly. As if she had expected more of a fight from you.

An awkward silence fell between the two of you after her strange attempt at a confession, yet everything continued to pulse around you. The music that vibrated the very air, the patrons who jumped and danced below you like a heaving pile of flesh; it all continued. The only thing that had changed was the stale scent in the air.

“Well, what a way to ruin the fun, huh? Alright, enough sappy talk for the night, I promise,” Row chuckled as she adjusted the foam pirate hat on her head. “I’m just about empty. Wanna come with me for a refill?”

Just like Row had claimed, she spent the rest of the evening getting wasted, and it didn’t take her long to get there. In a matter of hours her speech was so slurred her words blended into the mess of noise around you, and she could hardly hold herself steady when she brought you over to the pool table for what she promised was going to be a quick game. Her inebriation got so concerning you had all but forgotten your anxiety and discomfort in favor of paying extra close attention to your friend, lest she pass out while standing up.

Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that you had something to focus on other than the prying eyes around you. Despite how late into the night it got, the club only seemed to grow more packed by the minute, and you were certain the roof of that place would pop off any moment. Row seemed completely immune to any outside forces as she sloppily leaned over the pool table and attempted to make her shot. Your pool game had gone on for at least forty minutes; half in part due to Row missing a majority of her shots, and half in part due to her not being able to shut up long enough to focus on hitting anything properly.

“This table needs to stop leaning,” Row muttered.

“It’s not leaning, you’re just drunk,” you corrected.

“I know that,” she whined. “Doesn’t change the fact it’s leaning.”

Playfully, you rolled your eyes at her just as she flubbed up another shot. She straightened herself up and attempted to adjust her crooked pirate hat, only to make it worse, though, she didn’t seem to mind all that much as a grin crossed her lips.

“Too bad Riley isn’t here to give us some pointers, huh?” she teased.

There was something in the tone of her voice that sent a jolt through your body, and that familiar, yet confusing, heat coursed through your body again. Your skin recalled the way Simon felt against you, how his hands so carefully guided yours, how his voice rattled your eardrum so deliciously…

“He seems busy with work,” you excused.

Row’s grin quickly melted into something else at your comment. It wasn’t quite malicious, yet there was something off about it. Like she knew something you didn’t.

“Shame,” she quipped. “The two of you seemed awfully comfy the other night.”

Of course she would bring that up. Really, you had tried to forget about that event the entire week, but to no avail. No matter how much you distracted yourself, your mind would always wander back to his words and his warmth. The odd thing was, there wasn’t even anything lustful about it. It had just been the first time a man had touched you and hadn’t made your skin crawl.

“He was just being helpful,” you claimed.

“You know, you should just date him,” Row said, ignoring your comment.

For a moment, all you could do was stand there and blink. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m being serious,” she slurred. “He’s a good guy, really. Quiet, too. Bit of an arse but I think you two get on well.”

“Row, I don’t think that’s-”

“And you need someone to look out for you at home, too. Those apartments look like they’re falling apart at the seams, you’re gonna get fucking robbed one of these days.”

“Really, it’s-”

“He also seems to be having a much better time following us around now that you’re here. He never seems this interested when it’s just me.”

Ice formed in your veins at her comment, and you found yourself standing there dumbfounded. Following us around? You couldn’t even bring yourself to attempt to look around for him, you were stunned and in too much disbelief to even process it that far. As for Row, her words seemed to have the exact effect she had hoped for, and she didn’t even attempt to hide her grin from you.

“What? You mean you haven’t noticed your little shadow?” she teased as she gestured to the area behind you.

It was only then that you braved a glance over your shoulder, and you felt your throat grow dry at the sight of Simon. He sat at one of the small round tables in a chair that obviously didn’t fit him right. Long legs stretched out to the side in order to accommodate his height, and he slouched back something fierce as if he attempted to make himself appear smaller. Luckily his attention seemed to be absorbed by his phone, which casted a dull glow on his face. You weren’t sure you could handle it if you looked back at him just to find him already staring.

“John likes to send him as a guard dog whenever I come here, since things can get a little crazy sometimes,” Row explained. “I promise he’s not being a weirdo. Not on purpose, anyway.”

Things only got worse after that. Her teasing, her insisting that you try to talk to him, her drinking. Her words and insinuations made your mind spin more than the small sips of alcohol you allowed in your system, and your only saving grace was that John crawled out of his office half past midnight in order to wrangle her in. It was impossible to talk sense into her, it seemed. You watched awkwardly from the sidelines as John steadied your friend by her hips, trying to keep her from swaying too much. All Row could do was giggle as she pulled at John’s shirt in an attempt to kiss him. It was a miracle that she hadn’t gathered too much attention with the scene she caused, but you still found your eyes flickering around the area as if danger lurked just beyond where the light could reach.

Though you got severe secondhand embarrassment from it all, there was something a little endearing about it all. John’s patience with her was unmatched, and you found him grinning at her more often than he chastised her. They acted as if they were the only two people in the entire building, and you wondered what that must have felt like. To not be so on edge that you felt and saw everything at once. To be so carefree that not even the hellish cheers coming from below could distract them from one another.

“Wanna get some fresh air?”

You hadn’t even realized Simon had approached you until his fingertips rested on the wood of the pool table in front of you. Like a magnet, your eyes were drawn to him, but you tried not to stare too long, lest he read every thought hiding in your mind.

“Huh?” you asked; not because you hadn’t heard him, but because you were somewhat perplexed by his offer.

“Thought we could give the lovebirds over here some alone time,” he chuckled.

Everything in you screamed no. Despite his apparent kindness to you and Rows - inebriated - trust in him, you still didn’t exactly know Simon. All he really was to you was a stranger. A kind one, but something unknown all the same, and following a stranger outside always seemed like a bad idea. Still, the air in that building had suffocated you since the very moment you stepped inside, and maybe you were a little too grateful to have an excuse to leave for a little while.

Toward the back area of the VIP section, there was a heavy door that led out to a terrace that overlooked part of the alleyway and the street below. Plenty of people still mingled about, though they appeared much more laid back than the people inside. Cold autumn air chilled your feverish skin as Simon guided you underneath a canopy of lights that hung above your heads and towards a thick metal railing.

The cold iron felt nice in the palm of your hands, and it was only then that you realized how exhausted you were. Over ten hours of your day had been spent at work, slaving away on your feet, and instead of being able to pass out once you got home, you had been stuck at that cursed club. Of course you adored Row, and you would do anything for her, but going through all that work and effort just to watch her get wasted wasn’t exactly what you’d consider a night well spent.

“You smoke?” Simon asked as he shuffled his hand into the pocket of his jeans.

You watched him carefully as he took out a pack of smokes and started beating the bottom of the carton against the palm of his hand. Little hints of the tattoo’s that covered his arms poked out from underneath the sleeves of his shirt, and you tried your best not to stare.

“No,” you replied while you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Good,” he hummed. “Don’t start.”

It didn’t take long for him to light the thing and start puffing away. The scent of it surprisingly wasn’t as strong as you expected it to be, and he was kind in the way he ensured to blow the smoke well out of your way.

“So, what’re you dressed up as?” he asked.

You chuckled at his question and stared down at your work uniform. It wasn’t anything special. Just a plain black dress shirt along with matching pants. Black was always the color of choice in the serving industry. It was easier to hide stains that way, be it from food or sweat.

“Oh uh, a Sapori hostess,” you replied humorously. “Didn’t really have time to change before getting dragged out here.”

He hummed again. “Sapori. Heard that place is pretty fancy.”

“It’s up there, yeah,” you concurred.

“They pay well?”

“Sixteen.”

“Not great.”

You shrugged. “Pays the bills.”

A sharp breath of air sounded from Simon as he inhaled another long draw from his cigarette, and it was only then that you realized that was probably the longest conversation that you had with someone that wasn’t either Row or someone from work. Not even Marco could force a conversation out of you for that long. It was odd. Foreign. Yet you didn’t want it to end. It was difficult to explain, but talking to Simon came natural, even with the insane heat he sparked inside of you.

“What about you?” you asked. “I know you work for John, but what do you do for him?”

“Security, mostly. And whatever odd jobs he assigns,” Simon answered. “Usually end up workin’ nights. Same as you, I imagine.”

“Yeah, though I usually am off by midnight most nights.” You laughed as you answered his question, and you weren’t quite sure why. “I’d be in bed by now if it wasn’t for Row.”

“Row?” Simon repeated. “What’d she do to earn a nickname like that?”

“I could tell you, but I think I’d have to kill you afterwards,” you laughed.

“Ah, one of those stories,” Simon chuckled. There was another pause in the conversation as Simon finished off the rest of his cigarette before tossing it onto the cement at his feet and stomping out the embers. “Alright, what about your name then, Chip?”

You opened your mouth to answer him, only for your lips to instantly seal shut. Really, the story of your nickname was probably more embarrassing than Row’s, or maybe it only felt that way because it was tied to you. Like every little thing about you was pathetic and something to be hidden.

“A while back, Row’s grandma invited us over for tea. The cup she gave me was broken just a little bit on the rim. I was too… I don’t know, nervous I guess, to ask for another cup so I drank out of the broken one the entire time. When Row found out she laughed so hard and said it was like that little teacup from Beauty and the Beast, Chip. She’s called me that ever since.”

A quiet hum escaped Simon as he fully turned to face you. Without the cigarette between his fingers to distract him, he was able to give you his complete and undivided attention. The way he looked at you was strange, and you weren’t sure what to make of the odd churning in your stomach. It wasn’t sickening, nor skin crawling, but it made your insides feel as if they were on fire.

“Cute,” he commented.

“Riley!”

Both you and Simon turned at the calling of his name, and it didn’t take long for either of you to find the source. John marched out onto the terrace with Row stumbling behind him. She had somehow managed to lose her hat since you last saw her, though she didn’t seem too heartbroken about it as she threw her arms around you the moment you were within reach.

“I missed you,” she slurred, rum heavy on her breath.

“I was only gone for a few minutes,” you laughed.

“Too long.”

“Riley,” John repeated again, ignoring his wife’s antics, “would you take the girls home for me? Don’t want them trying to head home alone when she’s this drunk. Take the car, since I’m sure you probably took your bike here, yeah?”

The man fished a set of keys out of his pocket before handing them to Simon, who shook them around a bit as if he liked the sound of the jingle. “I’ll take care of ‘em.”

Getting Row into her car proved to be a difficult task, though it wasn’t nearly as entertaining as watching Simon struggle into his seat. The poor man proved to be significantly taller than Row was, and he managed to bash the side of his head on the roof of the car. After some quiet cursing from him, and merciless giggles from Row, he managed to move the seat back far enough that he wasn’t completely scrunched over, and he took off once he ensured both you and Row were buckled in the back seat.

“This is what you get for being so tall,” Row teased. “I mean, really. There is no reason for anyone to be that tall.”

“You know, your husband is only a bit shorter than me,” Simon retorted.

“Yeah, but he puts his inches somewhere more important than height,” she muttered, just low enough for only you to hear.

By the time you had pulled into the driveway, Row had managed to sober up, but only slightly. Still, Simon made sure to step out of the driver's seat and walk around to the back side of the car in order to help her out. Once she was steady on her own feet, Row turned around to look at you, where she pointed her finger at you as if in warning.

“Stay,” she ordered.

Confused, you glanced at Simon awkwardly before looking back at her. “Aye, aye, captain.”

Once you gave your confirmation, she slammed the door shut behind her and allowed Simon to lead her inside of the house. It only took her about three failed attempts to get the keys in the lock so that they could enter the dark and quiet house. Simon was going to leave then, as she had gotten into the house plenty fine. He knew that Row was more than capable of taking care of herself for the night, despite her state, but before he could even turn around, she turned to face him with her hands on her hips.

“Chip,” she spoke, “I want you to keep an eye on her.”

Dumbfounded, Simon raised a brow as he crossed his arms in the doorway. “Of course.”

“I don’t just mean tonight,” Row corrected. “I mean, even after tonight. Every day or so if you can manage it.”

Now, that request truly did confuse him. He had only met you two times, and you seemed plenty capable of taking care of yourself. You were a grown woman, after all, yet Row attempted to make it seem like you were some helpless creature. Then again, he had only met you two times; there wasn’t a whole lot he knew about you, and Row wasn’t one to be overly dramatic. If there was something about you that worried her, it was worth at least hearing her out.

“She alright?” he questioned.

“No. Yes. I don’t know,” Row sighed. She rubbed at her eyes as if she could remove the drunken haze that clogged her vision. “It’s difficult to tell with her. She’s really good at keeping things hidden, but I just know something’s wrong. I’d just… feel a lot better if you were able to look out for her.”

Keeping an eye on what was essentially his boss’s wife’s sister wasn’t exactly how Simon imagined spending his time, but you seemed like a nice enough girl. Nodding his head, he shoved his hands in his pockets as he glanced behind his shoulder at the car you sat in. After all, there were only two things Simon Riley was good at doing; fighting, and protecting.

“Consider it done.”

Once Simon was done dropping Row off, his next objective was ensuring you got home. The drive to your apartment was much quieter than you had expected, but with it nearing two in the morning you were too tired to say anything coherent. Simon seemed to read this, and instead turned up the volume on whatever radio station Row had been listening to when she picked you up from work.

You must have nodded off during the drive, because the next thing you knew, your door opened up and Simon stood with his hand stretched out for you to take. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you took his hand and allowed him to help you out of your seat before you started digging through your uniform for your keys.

“Thank you for the ride, Simon,” you said once you had them in hand.

“No problem,” he replied, though he didn’t look like he was getting ready to leave. It wasn’t until he glanced at the old, somewhat dilapidating, building that you realized he intended to walk you to your door, just like he had done with Row. “Which floor do you live on?”

Each step that you took up to the third floor was grueling, and you would have taken the lift had it not been out of order for the last two months. Your feet throbbed with every movement, and by the time you made it to your door you were ready to pass out. Your keys slid into the lock with ease, and with a simple turn of the knob the door swung open to reveal your studio apartment. A few dim lamps were the only light source for the area, but it was more than enough for you to function in to get ready for bed.

As you turned to face Simon, ready to dismiss him so you could get some well earned sleep, you noticed his attention had been drawn to your door. Everything in that building was near ancient, but your door and windows were probably the worst. Peeling paint, and rusting brass plagued the door, but he seemed more interested in the plating on the frame.

“Find something interesting?” you questioned.

“More concernin’ than anythin’ else,” he muttered in response. His fingers brushed against the old metal plating, and his nails scraped at the screws holding it in place. “How long ago were these replaced?”

You shrugged. “I’ve no idea.”

“I’ll get you new hardware,” he said as he straightened himself up. “Someone could sneeze on the damn thing and it would fall over.”

There were a million words that flooded into your mind on why he didn’t need to do that, and you were certain they would have left your mouth had you not been so exhausted. Instead of trying to deny his words, all you could do was yawn as you glanced towards your bed, which had been shoved into the far corner of the room. You were about ready to pass out in the spot you stood in.

“Get some rest, yeah?” he prompted as he placed his hand on the doorknob.

You turned to face him with a smile, and for a moment you were at a loss for words. The light of the hallway casted a dark shadow on his face, and yet his look of quiet concern still appeared so soft. A small smile graced your lips before you were able to stop it, and you gave him a curt nod.

“I will. Goodnight, Simon,” you said, voice nearly at a whisper.

Even though he was a tall and intimidating man, you did not feel the least bit of fear as you watched him stand in your doorway. Any other time, you most likely would have felt trapped if a large man blocked you from exiting your home, yet there was nothing insidious about Simon. Especially not the small smile that managed to tug at his lips as he began to shut the door.

“Sweet dreams, love.”

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #mafia!simon #mafia!ghost #mafia!141 #f!reader

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pseudowho · 3 months

Note

What would a Kento Nanami do for his birthday? The possibilities are near endless my brain can’t contain it!

What say you, Mrs. Haitch?

So if he were alone, I think he'd start by calling up his parents, and his grandfather, who lives with Kento's parents and is an elderly, Danish man by this point. He taught Kento Danish as a child, and they sit and have a quiet little conversation while Kento makes himself a coffee. He knows he's privileged that his grandfather is still alive, in his eighties and generally poorly behaved not me headcanoning Kento's grandfather as one of the last remaining Witchers of Europe and having left it all behind for Kento's Japanese grandmother and so secretly it's where Kento got his Curse Sight from and I know there are plotholes in this and this is a Headcanon for another day but anyway

Kento doesn't dress up; he dresses down. All black. His comfiest black slim fit jeans, an old band t-shirt. He wishes he could wear a big heavy overcoat, a black one like he used to, but the weather is too warm, even early. His hair is mussed and soft. He heads out for breakfast, finding a favourite little bistro.

He tells nobody that it's his birthday. He's off work for other, boring reasons, according to everyone else. He sees another year pass, and wonders with an edge of melancholy, if this is the last birthday he will celebrate.

Taking a book with him, he enjoys a long, slow breakfast. He ensures he finishes that book, and walks a languid walk to a local bookshop, to buy the next.

He visits the market. Buys loads of fresh food, cheese and bread, olives. Fresh olive oil, infused with garlic and truffle. A cake he knows he will be too full up to eat.

He sleeps in late, and goes to bed early; but cannot sleep. The corest part of him wonders if he should see his birthday through until midnight. He wonders and wonders and gets up and goes for a snack. He wonders. If this year is the year he falls in love. If this year is the year he gets a cat, like he always wanted. He couldn't, he thinks. He's away too much. It isn't fair.

By the time he reaches midnight, he is steeped in red wine and camembert, and god, does he want to live. He wants to live more than anything, not work and work on the promise of living later.

It will be the Autumn, soon. After Halloween passes, he will hand in his notice.

His elderly grandfather misses him the most.

Except, that didn't happen. The boy with the pink hair who loves Kento so deeply arrived in time. Kento lived. His grandfather cried, stroking over Kento's burns with a clawed over hand.

The next year, Kento took Yuuji out for cake...to say thank you.

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

#pseudowho #pseudowho answers you #Haitch #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami

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anomaly-hivemind · 1 year

Text

Horror Convention || No. 9 Gloryhole w/ Horror Characters x Fem! Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

Word Count: 1995

Warnings: gloryhole, free use, exhibition, overstimulation, large cock, vaginal sex, gangbang if you squint, vagianl fingering, mask kink, stranger sex, cosplaying oral sex, blow jobs, hand job, spit as lube, multiple orgasms,

You were going to a horror convention, it was your first one and you couldn't be more excited to go. You were wearing a slutty freddy krueger outfit excluding the knife coves because they sold out at the spirit halloween. It was too late to buy any online. You were wearing a ripped up black and red cropped top, a jean mini skirt, some stressed thigh-highs and wedges.

When you finally got inside the convention center, there were a lot of things going on with an unsettling low amount of security personnel around. It was a bit overwhelming but you were going to push through it just fine. It was full of cosplaying horror characters, new and old, popular and niche. Even horror shorts films, tv shows and games.

“Can I take a picture with you? I really like the freddy outfit,” the muffled voice of a guy said behind an old respirator.

Oh yeah sure, I like your outfit too. It's from my bloody valentine right?” you lean into the guy so he could take the photo. The guy pulls you close to him for the picture, then he turns to face you.

“Yeah I've had this for a while now.” he laughs and crosses his arm.

“Well it's super cool, practically identical to the movie.” you look him up and down, he was a carbon copy of the original.

“A bunch of my buddies and staff are hosting an event on the west wing in an hour. You should totally go. “ The Harry warden cosplayer handed a pass for the event. ‘Glory Horror’ printed on the card.

“Yeah I will be there.” you nod and take the pass. You can't believe you got an event pass for free.

=========================================================================

An hour had passed, you had bought a scream poster, a friday the 13th shirt and the regret of your shoe choices. You push past the last part and make your way to the event. It was a ways away from everything else which was a bit suspicious but not enough for you to turn around. You show the bouncer guy your pass and ID, because you guess this is an 18 plus event.

You take a seat in the front, the seats were really comfortable. The lights were dim and the walls around the panel looked sound proof. This was super fancy for a panel. It makes you wonder what's going to happen, especially with how fast the room is getting filled with horror fans such as yourself. Most of them were wearing masks from what you can see in the dark space.

A bright red stage light hits the middle of the stage. The familiar guy from earlier that gave you your pass to this event walks to the center. Two other people dragged something onto the stage behind him, also dressed up, one looked like Amanda the pig from the jigsaw moves or the dead by daylight game. The other person was dressed like the monster from Jeepers creepers. There was a large box with a set of holes of different sizes, odd but you find the tv and cameras placed inside and outside the box.

“Welcome to this year's Glory Horror event. Many of you who know about this event already know what's up, but for our virgin Marys let me explain what’s up.” Harry warden cosplayer says through the microphone, his mask muffling his words.

“We’re going to pick a lucky Slasher Slut in the audience to go into the box.” The man snickered as the crowd went wild. Harry looked into the group of seated people, presumably to find someone to put in the box.

“Anything goes when you're behind the veil.” he points to the closed door.

You look around the audience that you were in and they all seemed excited to either be picked or see who was going to end up being picked. You just stare at everyone in confusion.

“You, are you willing to take a dive into carnal pleasures and try out the box?” He points to you from the crowd, when you point to yourself he nods. You stand up, nerves run down your spine as you walk onto the stage. You were surprised with how excited every person in the audience seemed to be that you got picked.

“What am I supposed to do?” you asked while looking at the box.

“It's pretty self explanatory, but you get in the box, the cameras are already set up, we gave you a screen to see the reactions you're giving people.” You nod at him and step into the box, it was large and you could stand up right without being seen by anyone, not counting the screen that was broadcasting you to the outside.

“You can strip down any point and if you want out of the box just push the button to unlock the door.

“You want me to do what now.” you asked from behind the wall, your voice muffled mostly.

“Strip, take off those slutty clothes and either open that pretty mouth or a hole. Prepared to get stuffed in whichever you choose and you can switch at whatever time doll.

You think for a moment, you could back out right now but a part of you wanted to see what happened. With a shaky breath you take off your freddy krueger fit and finally take off your dreadful shoes. You were just in your bra and underwear, taking a seat on your knees in the middle. The bigger hole was covered with a black sheet.

A knock on one of the sides catches your attention, you turn your head and your eyes widen. A veiny cock filled the hole, making it look smaller than it was and it makes your mouth water. You looked over at your screen to see what you're working with, a guy wearing a Michael Myers mask. Your lip quivers as you wrap your fingers around his length.

His balls twitch as you tighten the grip on this stranger’s cock. You use your saliva to wet the tip of his dick. You hear the faint groan of the Myers look alike, it was hot and a turn on for sure. You take his cock deeper in your mouth, almost gagging on it, using your hand to massage his balls and or stroke the rest of his meaty meat.

Another knock from the others size makes you pull your lips off Myer’s member. Someone else had slid their dick into the other hole, the screen splits so you can see the masked figure. It was Brahms, down to the black messy hair, even matches the drapes decorating the base of this man’s uncut dick.

You take your other hand and start to rub at his cute dick. Both of your hands were being filled with their cocks. You were soaking wet from how hot this was and if your hands went filled you would be touching yourself right now. You placed licks on both the dicks one after the other. Even the thought that there were a bunch of people on the other side of this box, watching and listening or maybe even waiting to take a turn with you.

It was hot, you felt hot and you wanted more of all of it. You squeeze the guys dicks as you jerk them both off with determination. Michael myers’ dick twitching was the only short warning you get before he shoots a hot load onto your chest. Your bra ruined with cum makes you pout for a moment before you take the thing off. You put your mouth onto the remaining man and take him down your throat. Brahms cums down your esophagus, his seed tasting weirdly sweet on your tastebuds.

You lick your lips after pulling away the dicks both gone from the holes, making you sigh. You slide off your panties and just as you thought you dripped in arousal. You rub yourself and let out short moans, a guy that was looking like Jason Voorhees pushed his phat cock through the hole. It looked heavy, craving your touch. You touch yourself with one hand while sucking off this fat dick. Even if you couldn’t fit all or even most of it into your mouth you sure as hell tried. You moan against the length of this Jason.

Your fingers thrust into yourself at a similar pace as you sucked and stroked his dick. You come to a stand and turn around, your wet cunt fluttering with horniness. Lining your slit with a guy who looked like a slasher’s dick. You let out a hearty moan as this fat cock stretches you out. You could feel his dick twitch and the man moan from the intrusion. He bottoms out in you, your walls clench around him and then he starts to move slowly in and out of you. You rub your clit as your hole gets pounded into. Another dick pops into the hole in front of you and wraps your hand around it with hesitation. Peaking at the screen in the box you see that it's a guy dressed up in a ghostface outfit.

“Ohshit ohshit ohfucking hell.” you were on the verge of coming and the mix of a Jason hitting all your spots with his girth was making it harder to focus on stroking the guy in front of you.

You try your best to get the other guy to completion but your own impending orgasm was a bit of a distraction to say the least. This Jason guy’s thrust was getting relentless and it was super hot to say the least. You hold on for as long as you could but when you feel the man’s load start to pool down your leg sends you down the edge. Before you could complain about how fast the guy pulled out another guy pushed into you, somehow even thicker and longer than the Jason guy.

You squeeze the hell out of the ghostface and your thumb pushes on his slit. It makes the guy come all over you and hand it a messy gush. The new masked covered hottie was fast enough to work you past that previous orgasm but Jason had given you but now you were getting a bit overstimulated. The faint tapping of the man's pyramid helmet on the box wall makes you giggle. Yet the humor in all of this was cut short from the brutal thrust this pyramid head was giving you.

You were already about to fall into another climax, you couldn't help but scream out a moan that you're sure everyone in the panel heard. Maybe even people outside nearby could hear your whorish moans and whales. This massive curved dick was rubbing your insides just right and your lower half couldn't take much more of it, not standing up like you are right now at least. You reach another chaotic mind altering, pussy spasming, leg trembling, back arching, toe curling climax that almost gives you whiplash an.

You feel the sticky seed fill your cunt and pull out with lackluster pace, almost like he didn’t want to leave your warmth so it takes a minute or so before he actually does . When the pyramid head finally pulls out, your body drops to the stage ground with a thud. You were panting like a dog, cum was dripping out of you and sticking to your thighs. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you try to catch your breath.

“This is the best Horror con ever.” you say breathlessly, as you look at another dick slipping into one of the holes. Checking your provided inside the box you see who it is, the host of this event… it’s Harry warden.

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annwrites · 4 months

Text

dance with me.

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: you & billy run into one another at the halloween party

— tags: dancing, billy pining

— tw: drinking

— word count: 2,390

— a/n: this is an outtake from my thoroughfare series. i know it prob doesn't make much sense for it to be, as this takes place at the end of october, & that series clearly takes place in the middle of summer, & i stated in it that billy had only been in hawkins 2 months before he & reader ran away. but we're going to pretend like it fits anyway lol.

if any of this is inaccurate to what happened during the ep which featured the halloween party, it's bc it's been a few yrs since i watched season 2.

pay attention for an easter egg (song they dance to)!

You have half-a-mind to turn back around and go back home. But in no way is being there preferable, either. You’d vowed to yourself that you were going to have a good time tonight. Well, at the very least a halfway-decent one. Even if you were completely out of your depth—your comfort zone. You’d never gone to a party before. Solitude was where you thrived. Around other people you just sort of…froze up.

But, he’d been on a tear this last week. Had broken a couple of plates and a picture frame in a drunken fury just two nights ago. You needed a night away—just a few hours—a reprieve. Even if it was going to be surrounded by other drunks. At least these were fellow kids, if nothing else. And they wouldn’t be wanting to take things out on you if it turned out alcohol didn’t suit them. Unlike someone else.

You glance to Nancy at your side, then to the domicile ahead—thumping music blaring loud enough that you can hear it from the sidewalk—and silently follow along behind her as the two of you head inside.

Once you’ve passed the threshold, she turns back to you. “I’m going to look for Steve! He should be here already!” She yells over the deafening rock music.

“Want me to help and look for him, too?”

She nods fervently, and the two of you split up.

You make your way through throngs of people—couples making out, friends joking with one another; a boy who’s already half-drunk nearly spilling his beer on you—before you spot a door leading into the backyard.

Unless he’s outside…Nancy may very-well have to find him all on her own, because you were absolutely not going back in there just to be squished between sweaty, hormonal adolescent bodies again.

Perhaps this was a mistake.

That opinion only cements itself further when you step onto the back patio, shutting the door firmly behind you, and look straight ahead to see Billy Hargrove doing a keg-stand as a crowd of your peers stand around him chanting “chug, chug, chug, chug!”. He stands back on two feet once again, puckering his lips, spitting beer into the air and you roll your eyes. Those surrounding him start cheering and patting him on the back.

Like getting drunk is something to celebrate.

And of course he’s shirtless. Because a leather jacket and jeans is obviously a Halloween costume.

Just as you begin to turn away, arms now crossed, wondering if you shouldn’t now go back inside, Billy stops licking his lips, and laughing, or so much as paying attention to the other obnoxious idiots surrounding him when he sets eyes on you.

Why the hell were you wearing pajamas to a damn Halloween party? Was that really supposed to constitute being a costume? Then again, he shouldn’t be complaining. You’re not wearing bottoms. He suddenly decides he likes whoever the hell the character is.

He shoves past those around him—which even includes numerous girls with hearts in their eyes—and makes his way over to you instead.

He grabs your arm lightly, turning you back to him as he stares down at you with a smirk. “Well, well, look who it is.”

His eyes trail from your bare legs, back to your eyes, and you feel ready to squirm away from his grip.

He cocks his head to the side then. “Who the hell are you dressed as, anyway?”

You pull your arm away from him. “Audrey Hepburn. Breakfast at Tiffany’s?”

He raises a brow. “Uh-huh.”

You shrug. “She was an actress. Before our time.”

He gives you a sultry look. “Well, whoever she was, she was clearly one hot chick.”

You blink up at him for a moment.

“What? Not going to try and guess who I am?”

He watches as your eyes trail along his body and his jaw clenches at the sight of you taking him in. He hopes you like what you see.

Until you gaze back up to him with an indifferent look on your face, the fire quickly extinguished.

“I feel like you just wanted an excuse to walk around shirtless.”

A corner of his mouth tugs down in a frown. “You’re one to talk.”

“I have a shirt on.”

He glances down to your legs, then back into your eyes with a raised brow. “Somebody specific you’re trying to catch the attention of tonight, sweetheart?”

He leans an arm against the side of the house.

“Not really,” you reply looking behind him.

“C’mon, one guess. Maybe I’ll reward you if you get it right.”

You look back at him then, and he can’t believe he’s actually piqued your interest with that.

“Do I get to choose the prize?”

He heart skips a beat. “Anything you want, darlin’.”

You study him again. “Let me guess… A greaser, from The Outsiders?”

He licks his lips. “But which one?”

It’s so incredibly obvious. At least to you. “Dallas?”

“Winner, winner,” he says, leaning the least bit toward you. “So, what’s that pretty lil’ heart desire?”

“Stop pulling my hair in class.”

He snorts. “That’s likely.”

You roll your eyes. Waste of time, clearly.

“He was damn good in that movie, wasn’t he?” He just throws it out there to keep you a bit longer.

“Hm?” You ask, looking behind him again.

“Matt Dillon.”

You look back at him and he could swear you blush a little. On the one hand, maybe he should feel flattered since he’d dressed as his character. On the other, it’s clearly the actor that you have the hots for. Not him. No, never fucking him. Why does he try so goddamn hard with you?

“The book was better. But Matt certainly made the movie worth watching,” you say with a smile.

He frowns. “What? No love for my man, Ponyboy?” The blond, he wants to say, but doesn’t.

You glance behind him again.

“If you’re lookin’ for fun, I’m right here, honey,” he says, smirking.

“I’m looking for Steve, actually.”

His smile drops instantly, arms crossing. “The hell do you want with him?”

You glance back to Billy for just a moment. “Stay golden, Billy,” you stay, going to step past him, until he grabs your wrist.

You look down to where he’s now touching you. Gently, but firmly, then back up to him. “Let go.”

He sneers. “The fuck is it with you, huh? I mean, what is it with him? What does he have that-” He stops himself short and watches as your brows furrow.

Too much. He’d drank too much.

“You realize he’ll never go for you, right? Too stuck up Nancy’s bony-ass instead.”

Did…did he think you liked Steve? Oh God…did Nancy ever think that as well? “I’m trying to help Nancy find him.”

He softens a little, thumb rubbing against your wrist. “I say we leave her to it, then.”

His smirk returns and you mentally groan at whatever is about to come out of his smart mouth.

“How about you and I take off and go make our own party?”

You roll your eyes, wrenching your wrist away. “I’d really rather not.”

He watches as you walk away, enjoying the view.

It’s perhaps an hour later before Billy finally bothers coming inside, looking for a cold bottle of beer in the fridge, and it’s after he’s found one that he enters the living room and catches sight of you sitting on the couch, staring up at Nancy and Steve wrapped around each other, talking.

His jaw clenches at the longing look in your eyes. Like Steve is something fucking special to be had.

He has no idea it’s just you thinking of how lonely you feel in comparison; wishing you had someone of your very own to love.

He glances down to your hands, a red solo cup held between them, then back to you. Getting drunk to soothe your aching fucking heart, huh?

He takes a swig of his beer, thinking that it makes two of you.

He pushes past others to get to you, before plopping down beside you on the couch. And you don’t even bother looking at him.

Meanwhile, at least three other girls are eyeing him up from across the room. He doesn’t so much as wink at them before turning back to you.

He grabs the cup from your hands, which finally gets your attention.

“Hey!”

He takes a drink, then holds it away from him with a confused expression before shoving it back against your chest. “Water? Really? You come to a party and get yourself a cup of water, you’re that big of a fucking square?”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip.

He swirls the neck of his beer bottle in front of your face. “C’mon, try some, sweetheart. Might like it.”

“No, thanks,” you say, looking back to your friends.

He pushes his luck further. “Never know how good somethin’ can taste until you’ve put it in your mouth.”

You groan in frustration, standing, heading back outside then, just wanting him to leave you alone.

He of course follows you out, watching as you seat yourself at a table on the back patio, resting your chin against your fist, watching others dance.

He considers for a moment, taking another drink, then setting the bottle on the table, holding his hand toward you. “Dance with me.”

Your head jerks up and in his direction then. “What?”

He shrugs. “One-time offer, sweetie.”

You glance down to his hand, then back up to him.

He grows serious then. “Just dance with me. Please.”

This side of him you don’t get to see often. And you think the same thing now about it as you usually do when he shows it to you: you feel like, somehow, you’re the only one he gives it to. You’re unsure why, exactly. But you don’t dare ask.

Instead, you slide your palm into his—you could swear his hand is shaking a little—and he leads you into the middle of the yard.

Just as he positions the two of you in the middle of it, the song changes. Bob Dylan humming the beginning of the tune.

Billy rolls his eyes, staring upward. “Of course it changed to a fucking slow song.”

…And you know the moment is over.

You go to step away, until he twines his fingers between yours, pulling you back to him. “I didn’t say to leave.”

You’re not sure why you’re even giving him the time of day, but granting him moments like these, you feel, are important. He’s trying. To be decent. And if you shut it down—these moments are already rare enough as it is—he’ll one day stop trying altogether. You hope this can be a step toward him being just a bit more mature going forward. To you, if no one else.

You go to wrap your arms around his neck until he shakes his head. “None of that junior-high shit. You’re dancing with a man, not a boy.”

You stare up at him at the statement.

He positions your right hand atop his shoulder, taking your other in his left, placing his right against the small of your back. “Need to be a bit closer, doll,” he says, pulling you toward him, making you now chest-to-chest.

You ignore your heart beating just a bit faster now.

He begins to sway back and forth, staring down at you. The look in his eyes that of…tenderness? No. He’s just tired, or he’s drank too much. He’s not looking at you any kind of way. Is he?

He then presses his forehead to yours. “You look really pretty tonight. I don’t think I told you that.”

His eyes flutter closed.

You’re quiet for a moment. Then, “Thank you,” you reply quietly. You return the compliment. “You look very handsome.”

His lip twitches. “Me or Dillon?”

You shake your head lightly. “You, Billy.”

He hums his response, fingers at the small of your back curling inward, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

He pulls back the least bit, resting his cheek atop your head, closing his eyes again with you tucked under his chin, your head against his chest. He could stay like this for… He can’t think like that. It’s just one short dance. That’s all. It means nothing.

Until he looks down at you again.

And you look up at him with wide eyes.

His heart pounds, his hand shaking in yours as he begins to lean down. If you let him… This could be the start of something. Even if he knows he’ll do anything he can to destroy it. Because that’s what he does. To anything good he touches.

Your breaths come in short and shallow, your lips only slightly parted, your heart fluttering… And then you hear someone calling your name.

And the moment is over.

Billy stares behind you, expression morphing into seething hatred. “Always fucking ruining everything,” you hear him mutter.

Your brows furrow. “What?”

He lets go of you then, stepping past you.

“Y/N, hey, it’s time to go. Nancy’s ready to head home, so I thought I’d give you a ride, too.”

Steve then catches sight of Billy, who’s heading straight toward him and does not look happy.

“What the fuck is it with you? Always in the goddamn way. I’ve fuckin’ had it! If she wants a ride home, I’ll give her one. She doesn’t need her white fuckin’ knight right now.”

Just as Billy raises his fist, Steve unable to do anything more than brace for impact, you quickly throw yourself between the two of them before he swings.

You stare up at him, arms outstretched on either side of you, trying to shield Steve, knowing—rather, hoping—Billy won’t do anything so long as you—or, at the very least, a girl—is in the way.

Billy stares down at you, teeth clenched, fist hovering next to his head, then glances back to Steve.

“Billy, don’t,” you say softly.

He squeezes his fist more tightly.

“What’s wrong with you?” You ask, a mere whisper.

His face falls, then, as well as his fist. He swallows thickly. His eyes search yours, looking for the girl he’d had in his arms just moments ago, but sees she’s taken another’s side now.

“Fuck you,” he says before stomping away.

#fic: stranger things (billy hargrove x reader)#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader

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ozzgin · 1 year

Text

I was pondering on what horrors to write for Halloween and when I remembered how many times I’d hoped for Valak content…I ran and whipped out my Grimoire and started typing in delirious inspiration.

Yandere! Valak x Reader

Featuring the Infernal President and a blissfully unaware reader backpacking through Romania. Warning: NSFW, blasphemy, non-consent

[Horror Masterlist]

“Mommy told me something

A little kid should know

It’s all about the Devil

And I’ve learned to hate him so

She said he causes trouble

When you let him in the room

He will never ever leave you

If your heart is filled with gloom”

"Now, you can't really say you've visited Romania until you see at least one monastery! Most Romanians are very religious, so churches and monasteries are popular attractions for tourists and locals alike." The tour guide is awfully enthusiastic for a cloudy Sunday morning. You nod politely and follow the group, although you can already feel yourself become distracted.

You're mostly interested in the old castles and bucolic hiking trails that Transylvania has to offer. Religious places...not so much. Alas, it's part of the experience. You check the flyer containing today's travel plans and google the location mentioned by the guide. Cârța Monastery. Seems to have some ruins included, and you'll be right on time for the Sunday chorus service, huh. Maybe that's why they picked today for a visit.

You hurry along the cobblestone path until the first traces of a building come into view. Somehow you can't shake the feeling that something is off. You scan over the visible windows, wondering if someone is watching from above. Nothing. Once you lower your gaze again, you notice the tour guide vigorously waving his arm and encouraging you to enter the church with everyone else. You were at the very front of the group, so how long did you stare at walls? You flash an apologetic smile and rush inside. The wooden door closes with a grating creak and you fumble to the first available seat. There's a few coughs and shuffles and eventually the Liturgy begins. Your eyes wander until they find a clear window, so you entertain yourself with the sights outside. It's not like you understand the words of whatever is currently happening, and you're not religious to begin with.

"How long is this going to take?" you groan internally and switch your focus to your hands, intertwined and resting in your lap. The monotonous chants cause your eyelids to feel heavy and they gradually lower themselves until all you see is black. It's okay, you're not sleeping. It's just a short nap, until...huh...the voices of the singing men diffuse as if distorted by distance and now everything is quiet.

"Took you long enough."

You jolt awake. You turn your head to check if whoever is sitting next to you has just spoken, but the room is suddenly empty. You jump from your seat and the thud of your feet hitting the stone floor creates a cavernous echo that sends a shiver down your spine. Ah, could it be that you're dreaming? The candles of the chandelier flicker, as if startled by a breeze, and abruptly go out.

"I don't like waiting. Especially for mere humans like you."

The same voice as before reverberates through the chamber. It's deep and jarring, sounding almost unnatural. You don't like it. You tilt your head, afraid to find the source of speech but too curious nonetheless. It's a person dressed like a nun. For a brief second you relax your shoulders, assuming it's one of the people living here. But after one step ahead the figure becomes vaguely illuminated, and you can discern the features bearing on this creature's face. Blood drains from your face and you can feel the bile pooling at the back of your throat. A blasphemous deformity, oozing with blight and evil. From within the hollow, dark sockets, two yellow orbs glisten with raw malice. You realize you've held your breath until now as your lungs contract in a pitiful attempt to pump more oxygen. The movement brings back your senses and your flight instincts kick in. You immediately sprint for the door and use your elbow to slam it open, nearly collapsing to the ground. Your eyes squint under the flash of bright light.

As you pant for air you notice you're back outside. There's people taking photos and talking cheerfully, and inside the church your group seems to have gathered before the iconostasis, listening attentively to a hearty discourse from your guide. The liturgy ended. What on Earth did you just witness? Before you can ponder the event, you feel a tug at your sleeve. It's an old lady, short and comically hunched. She's dressed all in black, with a head covering that hides most of her face, though you can still see the deep wrinkles that cross her features.

"Oh? Sorry, I don't speak-"

"L-am văzut și eu. Diavolul, maică. Aici nu mai e demult casa Domnului. Pleacă cât mai poți, am să mă rog pentru tine."

Her voice is shaky and she seems in distress. She strokes your arm once before limping away hastily. You blink and spend a moment trying to collect your thoughts. There's no one else nearby to ask for a translation, so you can only hope she finds help somewhere else. You return to the group and hope you won't have to deal with any other adventures.

"This is the annex. You can still see some details in the arches." Your guide points around the pillars and mossy brick patches. You take out your phone for some photos and your arms tremble slightly.

"It's suddenly very cold here, don't you think so?" you remark to your neighbor.

"Really? I'm quite literally sweating right now" they respond, baffled.

"It's a shaded area, that's probably why."

"Or you're just that excited to see me again."

Your eyes widen. It's the voice. You blink, and you find yourself in the empty church once more. No, no, no, this isn't happening. No. You're dreaming. This is an absurdity. Some hallucination of sorts. You try the door handle, except this time it's locked.

"It's not often I become interested in a mortal. In fact, this is the only time."

The nun is sitting on a bench, hands together in a praying motion. There's a mocking grin on its face.

"Maddening, truly. Deplorable, disgraceful, outrageous. Humiliation would await me if they suspected my intentions with a perishable being like you."

"Who the hell are you?" you interrupt the erratic monologue. The nun stands up and locks eyes with you, instantly making you nauseous.

"The Sixty-second Spirit, President Mighty and Great. His Office is to give True Answers of Hidden Treasures, and to tell where Serpents may be seen. The which he will bring unto the Exorciser without any Force or Strength being by him employed. He governeth 38 Legions of Spirits."

"What?"

"Valac." the creature extends a hand, as if expecting a handshake. "At least that's how they introduce me in the Lesser Key of Solomon." The fingers spread out and you feel a gravitational force pull you closer. It chuckles.

The cold fingers sink into your back and feel like claws digging your flesh. You let out a scream of protest and try to push away without success. It hurts. The touch burns your skin and spreads out like a wicked plague. What would this fiend even want from you? You search your mind for potential meanings and explanations. Truth be told, however, you're not well-versed in theological fantasies.

"You can't just possess someone's body. I won't accept it. You don't have my permission."

The creature erupts in hysterical laughter and you feel your knees weaken at the sharp, grotesque teeth that creep their way out. Everything about it is vile, scandalous. Unholy.

"If you want to call it like that...Then sure. But for this kind of possession I don't need your input, I'm afraid."

Your limp body is picked up and sloppily thrown over the altar table. The impact of the hard surface against your stomach causes you to gasp. You try to turn your head and look behind, but the large, clawed hand locks around your neck and keeps you in place. You can only glance ahead. You can sense your garments being ripped apart with one swift move and shudder at the unexpected contact with the cold air on your bare body. The creature's other hand slides over your forms before stopping on your bottom, adjusting it. The realization sinks in and you begin to panic. Is this the time to say a prayer? You don't know any.

"Our Father..." you mumble, trying to remember the continuation.

"Go on. I'm sure He'd love to hear from you while you're being fucked on His altar. Send Him my regards."

He forces your hips upwards, exposing your intimacy. Without any further delay he thrusts his member in, painfully stretching your entrance around it. Tears well up in your eyes at the sudden discomfort. The iconostasis in front of you blurs and sways with each violent plunge into your frail body.

"Oh, God" you sob.

"God ends here."

#the nun #the nun 2 #the conjuring #valak #valac #valak x reader #valak smut #the nun smut #yandere #yandere x reader #demon x reader #ars goetia

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fir3ylolol · 11 months

Text

i'll have what she's having

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: Johnny has insisted that you match with him at his Halloween party, which you obliged. but he's acting sort of weird? wonder what's up with him...

tw: mentions of drinking

a/n: i was inspired by @sillygooselulu to write a little fluff, and why not make it Halloween-themed! first real attempt at fluff which was kinda fun :) but don't worry, the 100-follower special should be out soon!

word count: 1.21 k

Ao3

You put on the last part of your Halloween costume and look in the mirror. Smoothing your pants, you turn and admire how you look. A pair of brown shoes, high-waisted jeans, a red turtleneck, and a brown blazer. Of course, ever the film nerd, Johnny wanted to go as Harry and Sally. You walk to your bathroom to finish your hair and face, sitting down with a huff. You had no idea where Johnny was, leaving you to get ready by yourself. You curl your hair into loose, tease out 80’s curls, and apply a wine-colored gloss to your lips.

You notice your phone buzzing on the bathroom counter and pick it up quickly. Johnny’s cheesy grin flashes across your screen and you pick up quickly. “Hey, you picked up! Where are you? You on your way yet?” He’s almost yelling in your ear, and you back the phone away from your ear. “I just finished, I’ll be there soon. You feeling good?” you manage to say without a laugh, his volume a clear indication that he’s already started to party. “I feel great! Hurry up and get over here!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll leave now then.” You grab your large leathery bag, which Johnny insisted on for “accuracy”. “Woohoo! I’ll see you soon!” He cheers, and abruptly hangs up. Sighing lightly, you leave to his place, LA traffic is not any better than usual. It takes about 30 minutes to get there, and when you do, you notice how many cars are in the driveway. There are at least 50, blocking areas and creating a maze. But, ever the gentleman, Johnny runs out, waving his garage controls above his head. He slightly runs into the car and sticks his head through the window. “You’re here! Go ahead, park in the garage. I’ll see you inside, ok? Bye!” He leaves before you can get a word out, leaving you in a stunned state.

You shake out of it, and pull into his garage quickly, walking into the house through that door. It is loud inside, with bass vibrating the floor and shot glasses tipped over on the counter. You shuffle through the crowd in front of you, searching for Johnny. And there he is, sitting on the couch and laughing loudly with more people than you think the furniture can handle. But he sees you and bolts up. In a large, white cable-knit sweater and jeans, he wraps you up in a hug. “Yay! My other half is here, guys!” He turns you towards the crowd, which loudly cheers for him.

He lets go of you and holds one of your hands, smiling widely. “I missed you,” he giggles out. “How much have you had to drink?” You touch a hand to his red cheeks, which he hisses at. “Your hands are too cold. But I’ve only had a little.” You start to drag him towards a balcony, and he follows behind you with shuffling steps. “Come on, you need fresh air,” you open the glass door and get him outside, shutting the door behind him.

“Ugh, fine,” he leans against the waist-height wall and looks out over Malibu. You stand beside him, wrapping an arm around him in a light hug. He turns to look at you, smiling just as wide as before, with slightly less red cheeks. “You know, you’re always so nice. I like having you around,” he says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close. “I like being around man, it’s fun.” You laugh lightly as your face is shoved into his chest, pushing away a little.

Johnny pauses, face slightly dropping as he looks out again. “Hey, can I tell you something? Like, can you promise you won’t leave after I say it?” He sounds slightly serious, but drops it quickly, “Since people will keep asking why I didn’t dress up.” Taken slightly aback by his words, you try to join him in lightening the mood. “Unless you killed someone, I’m staying right here.” He pauses a little too long, and you panic slightly. “Y-you didn’t kill anyone, right??” He turns to you and laughs hard, leaning forward over the wall. “No! Why would I do that? God, you’re funny.” You breathe out a sigh of relief, you weren’t ready to keep a secret like that.

But he grows serious again, letting out what sounds like a nervous breath. “Well, we’ve been friends for a while, and I really like hanging out with you. You’ve stuck by me, even when my movies weren’t that successful.” He’s trying to lighten the mood again, but it’s not working. He coughs slightly, then continues. “Hold on, I memorized my lines.” Confused, you cock an eyebrow at him, but you’re used to his strange antics. He takes a deep breath and starts talking again. “I love that you get cold when it's 71 degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts. I love that after I spend the day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes.” Your face slightly drops, and you recognize what he’s saying. It’s the speech at the end of ‘When Harry Met Sally.’ He continues, “And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely, and it's not because it's Halloween.”

He grabs both your hands, his grasp tight as he finishes, “I wanted you here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” You’re in shock again, taking a long time to process all of this. But he stands there, uncharacteristically nervous. God, how much did he have to drink tonight? He tends to be a little less careful when he’s stressed, and if his nerves now are indicative, he is close to wasted. You snap out of it, and look into his eyes, finally smiling. “Johnny, you really had to quote a movie to confess?” He lets out a breath, shoulders falling forward. “Don’t tease! You’re just so cool, and attractive, and I didn’t want to lose you as a friend. So I figured I could maybe pass this off as part of my character, and not something I was saying.”

“Wait, is this why you really wanted us to dress up as Harry and Sally?” He wraps his arms around you tight, snuggling into your neck. “Maybe…was it bad?” You hug him back, hands tracing along his back. “Nah, it was cute. Nerdy, but cute.” Huffing, he pulls away, “You could’ve left it at cute.” But he pauses again, searching your face quickly. “So…do you wanna…be with me?” You smile and cup his face in one hand, bringing him in for a kiss. He melts into you, arms wrapping around your waist as yours wrap around his neck. You feel him smile, holding you tight against him. He finally pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

#johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mortal kombat #mk x reader #x reader #fluff #sfw

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runningfrom2am · 6 months

Text

cold nights // part twenty-nine

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 4.2k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: ahh shit really hits the fan in this one oops

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

"Coryo." You hum, knocking on your boyfriend's doorframe.

He looks up from his desk, smiling as he sees you standing in the door. You were still wearing what you had worn to class that day, a button up shirt he had bought for you with the orange skirt Tigris made, short and simple as if it was made by your own mother. It matched perfectly with his own mother's scarf that you always wore out, that was left draped over your shoulders. You were looking at him like you needed something, and it just made him light up.

"Love," He closes his book and stands up. "What do you need?" He asks, quickly pushing up his unstyled hair out of his face- the curls were beginning to come back, but they weren't quite as long as they once were. When he's with you, which is almost always, he makes a very conscious effort to keep it up and away from his face.

Your hands are tucked behind your back, nervously twisting your fingers. "Why must you assume that I need something?" You giggle.

"Because I know that look." He pokes your nose as he gets close enough to do so, now standing a foot away and looking at you expectantly.

"Okay, fine." You sigh. "I was wondering if you had any plans for Halloween."

"Hallo-what?" He asks, tilting his head at you. Your jaw drops.

"Halloween." You say again, wondering if it was possible he just misheard you.

He laughs, eyebrows raised in clear confusion.

"You don't know what Halloween is? You don't celebrate here?" You gasp.

"No, sorry."

"Oh my god, okay. Well, we must do something." You clap excitedly.

"Slow down, darling. You're gonna have to tell me what it is before I can agree." He chuckles, holding a hand out you to stop you before you got too excited.

"Okay, okay." You agree. "So, it's a holiday, similar to Christmas if you have that."

"Of course we have Christmas."

"How was I supposed to know?" You laugh. "Anyway, it's mostly for little kids, but still. Basically, on the last day of the month everyone dresses up in costumes of monsters or animals or different jobs- whatever you want, and the kids go knocking door to door and adults will give them treats."

"Treats." He states, but it comes out more like a question.

"Yes. Like cookies, or candy if you have it, really anything." You grin, nodding at him excitedly. "My Ma usually makes fudge."

"Okay..." Coryo laughs. "So... sorry, I'm confused. What do we do? Hand out candy to kids who won't come because no one's heard of it here?"

"That's the best part!" You clap. "We aren't parents; old enough to be stuck handing out candy, and we aren't young enough to go trick or treating, so we get to have the most fun."

"Okay..." He urges you on.

"We get to have a party!"

"A party." He eyes you a little bit skeptically.

"Yes!"

"Since when do you like to party?" He seems wholly unconvinced.

"I don't, but it's tradition! I always have fun, I just don't drink much anymore. It'll be good to make friends, Coryo. Please?"

"Anymore?" He laughs, but quickly shakes his head to stay focussed on what you were asking of him. "Love, I wish we could but I don't know where we'd have a party, we can't have it here."

You frown, thinking for a moment. "Oh! I'll call Sej." You grin, already bounding off down the hall toward the phone.

That was that, he couldn't change your mind even if he desired to- but really, if a party would make you happy, then you would get a party. He would make sure of it.

You had spent weeks handing out invitations to the other people in your classes, most of which, as you noticed, ended up in the trash cans or littering the halls. You didn't let it bother you, Coryo insisted that people just didn't tend to hold on to those kinds of things and it didn't mean they wouldn't come. (What you didn't know, was his near-constant cleanup efforts of asking anyone he knew or had classes with to come to his "costume party"- and people didn't like to say no to Coriolanus Snow.)

You had come up with a plan. Coryo would say it was his party, and he would be hosting it at the Plinth's estate. You couldn't run the risk of putting your name on the idea, especially after your interview assuring parents that you were just there to learn- not fraternize. You didn't mind, you knew more people would want to come if it was his party, and that it wasn't a "Halloween" party. Just a costume party that happened to land on the district holiday that none of these kids nor their parents knew about. Hopefully.

You were incredibly excited. You spent the days after Sejanus's parents left town over there making decorations, and begrudgingly, Coryo joined you after realizing you weren't only there to drop things off.

He never pictured himself spending so much money on orange and black coloured paper, but here he was. The list of things he would do for you is growing by the day, surprising even himself.

You had put a lot of time into your costumes, with Tigris's help over the last couple of weeks. It wasn't anything crazy, just a white dress and some small angel wings, and for Coryo a gray shirt with leather straps, some light chain mail on the shoulders, and silver sleeves. You were very proud of them, but you hadn't shown him yet. You would be Romeo and Juliet, and you thought it was just perfect.

You smile as you knock on his bedroom door, already in your costume. You would get there a little early to help Sejanus with some final touches, but you did have a lot of people confirm with Coryo that they were coming. You were excited.

He opens the door, his breath dying out in his throat as he takes in your outfit. He must have died and gone to heaven. "Well hello, angel." He grins as he regains himself, opening the door fully for you to come in.

"Do you like it?" You ask, giving a quick spin even as you're holding his matching costume behind your back.

"You look beautiful." He says quietly, nodding as he eyes how the white satin clings to your figure. He couldn't think of a more fitting costume for you; although to him, you always looked like an angel. But now, more beautiful than ever. Ethereal. "It's stunning, love."

"Thank you!" You smile, pulling his forward and holding the folded mix of fabrics up to him. "This is yours."

"Mine?" He asks, a confused smile on his face as he grabs it and unfolds it carefully. "What is it?"

"You're a knight!" You say, clapping your hands together excitedly. "Well, you're Romeo as a knight. And I'm Juliet." You grin, holding the hem of your dress and prompting him to look at it again.

"Romeo and Juliet." He chuckles, nodding slightly as he looks between the two.

"Yeah!" You smile excitedly. "Romeo! Here's drink. I drink to thee."

He laughs, nodding as he closes the door behind you and pulls off his shirt to put on the costume you made for him. "I love it, Y/N/N. Thank you."

"Of course." You nod excitedly. "I've always wanted to do a couples costume."

"Is that a thing?" He asks, getting ready to pull it over his head.

"Yes. It's so sweet! Couples will wear matching costumes and that's how you know they're together, I always loved looking at other peoples." You explain. "My parents always do matching costumes. One year, they both dressed up as cats. My mom made the ears out of felt, and they carried Tybs to the door with them to hand out candy. It was so cute. Like I said, they do matching costumes every year."

In your rambling, you don't notice how he freezes up completely, face falling. Hesitantly, he pulls it over his head. "How do I look?" He asks, gluing a smile back on.

You smile, nodding at him. "So handsome, Coryo." You confirm. "Tigris helped me make it."

"It's... a little uncomfortable." He tells you, pretending to adjust the light chainmail that hung over his chest.

You frown, reaching out to help him adjust it for a moment. "Is that better?"

He hates to do this- it fits perfectly, but he can't have people knowing you're together. Not yet. "Uh..." The hopeful look in your eyes breaks his heart. "Yeah, that's better." He nods, relieved by the smile that returns to your face.

"Are you ready to go, then?" You ask, tilting your head at him.

"Just give me ten minutes, love. Would you mind gathering up our drinks?" He asks, kissing your forehead.

"Of course, Romeo." You giggle, turning on your heel and leaving, closing the door gently behind you.

He hates himself for what he knows has to do.

When you got to Sejanus's house, you were practically vibrating with excitement as you ran around hanging up decorations and placing and replacing drinks and snacks on the tables, moving them around.

"Sej?" You ask, standing on a stool to be able to reach up above a doorframe.

"Yeah?" He calls back from across the room, turning to look at you.

"I'm out of tape, could you grab me another roll? We brought some, it's in the kitchen. Coryo will tell you which bag." You explain and he nods, giving you a quick thumbs up as he walks by and down the hall.

Walking into the entrance to the kitchen, his eyes go wide.

There's Coryo, holding out the front of his shirt over the sink and pouring a glass of red wine down the front. Extremely, very intentionally.

"Uh... what are you doing?" He asks, and Coryo's head snaps up, eyes panicked.

"Uh, shit, I..." He laughs slightly, placing the glass down quickly and turning on the tap. "I tripped and, god I don't really know. I'm just trying to get this out..."

Sejanus nodded slightly, trying to hide how unconvinced he was. "I don't know if that will come out." He states.

"Shit..." Coryo sighs, albeit dramatically. If Sejanus hadn't just seen him do what he just did, he would be convinced. Coryo would make a good actor. "Well... Do you have something else I could wear?"

"Yeah... uh, yeah. Just go into my closet and help yourself." Sejanus tells him, gesturing down the hall.

"Thanks," Coryo says, brushing past him eagerly all ready to go and change into something else.

Your friend swallows, watching him as he disappears down the hall. Sejanus knew you had spent hours putting together that costume for him, could he even tell you that he saw Coryo ruin it on purpose? It would break your heart- but he did really want to know why.

Sejanus couldn't tell you. You were having fun, or at least trying to, and he didn't want to ruin that. People were talking to you, and to him, which was kind of new territory for the both of you. Your interview and your kindness in classes and to everyone you met did wonders for your reputations as "District kids". Surprisingly, your classmates had lots of questions and none of them seemed to have any real problems with you in a less pressurized setting. The alcohol was likely a contributing factor.

"Yes! Well, we'd go to the lake a lot. Oh! So, one time, my brother and I spent all day dragging this old barrel up a cliffside just to hang it off a tree at the top. We just spent our time doing the most random stuff." You giggle over the music, clutching your glass to your chest as you continue on a conversation with Hilarius, who you saw as a new friend even though Coryo wasn't his biggest fan. You had probably a little bit too much to drink, spurred on by your nervousness.

"A barrel..?" Hilarius laughs, tilting his head at you.

"Well, yeah, what kind of stuff did you do for fun, then?" You ask over the loud music.

"Chess, I suppose. Reading, I don't know. Fun wasn't really on the schedule." He explains.

"Well, I'd rather drag a barrel up a hill than do nothing, wouldn't you?" You laugh.

"Touché." He tilts his glass at you before taking a sip.

"Y/N, can I steal you for a second?" You hear Sejanus say in your ear, suddenly beside you and you nod, politely dismissing yourself from the conversation.

You follow him down the hall to an empty corner. He couldn't take it anymore, he had to tell you. "I'm sorry about Coryo's costume, I know you worked hard on it." He says honestly.

"It is okay. Spills happen." You smile.

"Well, yes..." He agrees, looking around quickly to make sure he can't spot Coryo's blonde hair in the vicinity. It was a rare moment he wasn't with you, so now was his only shot. "But... it wasn't an accident."

"What do you mean?" You ask, tilting your head at him with a slightly nervous smile.

"Y/N I... I watched him pour the wine on it. Like, very intentionally."

You don't know what to say, slightly shocked. After a moment of him watching your expression evolve, you begin to laugh. "No, no. Sej, I love you, but how much did you drink before we got here? Because he wouldn't-"

"Nothing." He answers shortly, giving a firm shake of his head. "Not a drop, Y/N/N. I swear."

Your smile fades slightly at his abrupt statement. "Well..." You say quietly. "Why would he do that?"

"I don't know, but I know better than to be the one to bring it up to him. You should ask."

"I mean, he said it wasn't very comfortable before we left the house. Maybe he just didn't want to hurt my feelings." You smile to yourself, nodding as you decide.

"By ruining something you made for him? Yeah, that'll spare your feelings." Sejanus scoffs, looking past you once more to make sure Coriolanus wasn't nearby.

"He tried to spare them, I assume." You sigh, giving him a reassuring smile in hopes that he won't let it worry him. "It's okay. Thank you, Sej, for telling me, but it's really not a big deal."

The knowledge that Coryo ruined his costume on purpose was eating you alive. The feeling of dread sat deep in your chest where it apparently couldn't be drowned out with more wine or posca or anything that you could find or was offered to you. It made you so horribly sad, that even though you couldn't seem to find your boyfriend in any room of the large house you weren't sure if you even wanted to.

Talking to strangers helped, meeting new people. Some people you shared classes with, and you could mostly discuss that. It was a lot of explaining and reexplaining that people in the Districts were more or less normal, just with less access to resources. You got a few laughs out of that, but a surprising amount of understanding nods. Maybe all hope wasn't lost.

You were here to have fun. It wasn't like Halloween parties back home, and the sheer volume of boys in their own father's old peacekeeper uniforms was chilling to you. Even back home, where you knew those old uniforms were lying folded up in an attic somewhere, very few kids would dare touch them even to make a joke out of it. You couldn't take it anymore, deciding to just step out onto the back patio to get some fresh air.

The air hits your lungs and brushes over your skin, instantly giving you chills but you don't mind. Hearing talking over to your right, you take a look only to see Coryo with a few of your classmates, smiling as he leaned back against the wall of the house. A couple of faces you recognized, and one you didn't.

You smile as you walk over to them, squeezing in next to Coryo. "Clemmie, Livia. It's good to see you." You smile at them, and Clemmie gives a polite nod while Livia just takes another sip out of her glass while the other boy with them just continues talking.

"I don't believe we've met, sorry." You smile at him during a break in his story, extending a hand to him. "My name is Y/N. What's yours?"

He laughs, hesitantly shaking your hand. "Festus. Festus Creed." He tells you.

"Lovely to meet you, Festus." You grin. "Are you a friend of Coryo's?"

"Yeah, you could say that." He chuckles and you look up at your boyfriend who suddenly looks annoyed, rolling his eyes.

"I just love meeting his friends." You smile excitedly. "Are you studying at the university? I haven't seen you before." You say, folding your arm around Coryo's and he tenses up, not so subtly shaking you off.

You look up at him for a moment, a confused smile on your face from his actions.

"Would you mind giving me some space?" He asks coldly, almost glaring at you. Your eyes flick to his, but it's dark. They're cold, icy blue even in the poor lighting. His cheeks are flushed, but maybe that's from the chill.

"Oh, sorry." You laugh nervously, taking a step back and abandoning your conversation. "I... um, I'm gonna go get some water. It was nice to see you." You wave quickly to his friends, turning and heading for the door.

"Sorry, apparently my tribute gets touchy when she drinks." You hear Coriolanus laugh behind you as you enter the house again. It was met by laughs from the rest of the group he was with, and your heart dropped practically out of your chest and onto the floor. You wouldn't have been shocked if you looked down and saw your white dress absorbing the remains of your heart.

Your white feather angel wings catch on the curtain of the door as you close it behind you, and you want to scream and rip them off as you feel tears well up in your eyes. You look around for your best route of escape, feeling the familiar tightness in your chest begin to build.

You'll have to go along the wall- clinging to the outside of the room as you avoid the chaos of the middle in an effort to make it up to Sejanus's room. You'd be alone there.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you keep your head up, eyes locked on the entrance to the foyer with the large staircase, which you know you can take to get to your friend's room. Your fight or flight is kicking in, you think, as the music and laughter and voices fade into nothing. You almost expect the familiar clang of a metal weapon to sound out in front of you as it slams into the wall- but you have to make a very conscious effort to remind yourself that you aren't in the arena anymore. Even if it felt like it more and more with every step.

Shutting the door to Sejanus's bedroom, you quickly shuffle over to his bathroom and lock yourself in, freezing when you catch a look at yourself in the reflection. She was hardly a reflection of you; tear-stained cheeks, angel wings- when you knew that these days you were just about the farthest thing from it. You had changed. You hardly recognized her, and that's the thing that forced you to look away.

You don't even hear someone enter the room until there's knocking on the bathroom door. "Y/N? Are you in there?" Lyssie asks, concern dripping through her tone.

You sniff, quickly wiping your eyes. "Yeah! Yeah, I just need a moment." You choke out, trying and failing to keep your voice steady.

"Are you okay?" She asks through the door, wiggling the handle now. "What happened?"

"I'm fine just fine." You insist, laughing nervously as you look down at how badly your hands are shaking.

"Can I come in? Can you open the door for me?"

God, how you wished it was Lucy Gray on the other side.

But Lucy Gray isn't here. Lysistrata Vickers is all you have- so with shaky hands you reach for the door and unlock it, letting her in. She won't hurt you, you're sure.

Her eyes are already wide with worry as she gets her first glimpse at you. "Oh, Y/N, what's wrong?" She asks, stepping in and quickly closing the door behind herself. "Here, sit down..." She nods to the floor, which has clearly been recently cleaned. Even so, she pulls a towel from the rack and lays it out for you to sit on.

"I'm just a little too drunk." You sniff, trying to dismiss her worries, and slide down against the wall on top of the towel she laid for you as sobs take over you.

"Want to tell me what happened?" She asks again, hurriedly reaching for a smaller towel and wetting it with what you assume is cold water, wringing it out before joining your side on the floor.

"Nothing." You shake your head and bring your hands up to cover your face as you cry into them. "I can't... I can't tell you."

"Okay, that's okay..." She soothes you. "Here, this will help. Can you move your hands for me?"

She doesn't want to touch you, no one really does. You lower your hands, squeezing them tight together in your lap as she carefully reaches up to dab the cloth across your forehead. It does feel good on your burning skin.

You focus on taking deep breaths, trying not to embarrass yourself any further.

"There you go..." She smiles. "You're good at this."

You laugh through your tears. "Well, it comes with my title, I guess." You sniff, wiping your cheeks again.

"I'd bet..." She hums. "But you're doing great."

You just nod slightly, running through lines in your head out of nervous habit. "I love him, oh, I love him; but he won't let himself be loved."

You don't even realize you're saying it out loud to yourself until Lysistrata speaks. "Is it... Is this about Coriolanus?" She asks, and you don't want to tell her that it's a quote from a story of her namesake because ironically, she is right, and ironically, that was the only line you could think of when you strained to remember any of it.

You nod slightly, biting into your lip and letting your shoulders shake with the latest round of sobs.

"Oh, I'm sorry..." She gently rubs your shoulder. "He's... He's not very sensitive to people's feelings. I know that. Just try not to take it personally. It's not your fault."

"How could it be anyone else's?" You sniff. "I embarrass him... But I try so hard to be good. I try so hard..." You cry, wet eyes making it hard to see.

Lyssie looks at you, a little confused. "What did he say?" She asks.

"That..." You hiccup, trying to breathe through it so you can explain better. "That I needed to give him space, all I was doing was standing next to him." You sniff again, wiping your eyes. "And he called me his tribute to his friends- it made me feel just sick... And earlier Sej told me that he ruined the costume I made him on purpose, we were supposed to match! Now I just look like I'm desperate for people to like me- dressing up as an angel when everyone here knows what I did! I don't know what I did wrong... Why does he hate me now?"

She watches you silently, trying to put together the pieces.

"I don't understand." You say again, shaking your head. "He told me he loved me this morning! I don't know what I did to change that..."

"Sorry, he said he loved you?" Lyssie asks, eyes wide.

You nod slightly, looking over at her. Why does she seem so shocked?

"Wait, Y/N..." She pauses, shaking her head slightly. "Are you guys like... together?"

"Mhm." You swallow, wiping under your eyes. "But apparently not anymore."

"Oh my god, I had no idea." She stammers out, snapping out of her shock to pat the cloth on your head again.

"You didn't?" You sniff. "He didn't tell you?"

"No." She shakes her head, but quickly continues. "I'm sorry, he doesn't tell much to anyone, though..."

You let out a shaky breath, leaning your head back against the wall. "I should have known this couldn't work. I feel so stupid."

"He shouldn't have led you on like that..." She replies quietly. "I don't know a whole lot about you, but I know you're not stupid. I also know that Coriolanus always gets what he wants, one way or another."

"I just want to go home..." You cry, shaking your head. "I want to go home."

Lyssie looks back to the door, gently dabbing the damp material across your forehead. "I'm going to go get Sejanus, okay? Can you hold this on your head for me?" She carefully passes the cloth into your shaking hands and you nod, leaning your head down against it instantly.

She gets up and leaves, carefully and quietly closing the door behind herself. If one person in this city knew even a little bit about what you were feeling or how to help, it would be Sejanus Plinth.

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okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

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inthepassengerside · 5 months

Text

Halloween

warnings: oral (f), fingering, sir like once, dirty talk, cuddling before and after

a/n: this is old </3

masterlist

It was getting late. You had decided to go to a party closer an opposite side of the city with your friends—who were best friends with a group of boys.

It was a Halloween party, you had just dressed up as a simple angel. You had nothing in your closet as it was a last minute decision to go, and that was the only thing you could put together from previous years.

It was your third year of college, and you weren’t one to turn down a party. Even though you were upset at your friends for feeling the need to attend an hour before it begun, you still went. It was Halloween! You wanted to have fun.

So, you put on your white eyeliner and cute outfit and decided to go have a ball. You might have looked a little childish since your friends dressed, well, to be undressed, but, you hoped they could get some and have an eventful night. You weren’t looking for anything other than a good time.

As to the particular boys who were hosting this party, they were all nice. Calum was the closest to you guys, always checking up in the group chats and reaching out to invite you to these type of things.

None of the boys were dressed up, each in comfortable house attire. You thought it was very lame, not the type of energy a Halloween party should have.

Sometimes you felt forgotten, but it wasn’t anything towards your friends. You just weren’t as close to all the people they were. You got along with them well, Ashton, Michael, Calum, and Luke. You had spoken to Luke less than the others, as he was a little shy, but you knew he was a good guy.

As it was getting late, an incredibly heavy thunderstorm had begun. The people in the room lessened as bodies were leaving and you and your friends helped clean up. Nobody ever bothered to stick around for that part.

“Wow, it’s incredible outside,” Michael said as he walked to throw out some garbage he picked up.

“Oh shit! What are we going to do? We can’t drive home in this. The one time we all stayed sober, too,” Your friend let out a chuckle.

As all they all talked amongst themselves they decided it was the best to spend the night. Heat rose to your cheeks. Where were you going to sleep? You didn’t like sharing rooms or spending the night anywhere other than your bed. Thunderstorms terrified you already.

You sighed to yourself and sat down on the sofa as you finished your last spot of cleaning.

“There’s a spare bedroom upstairs. It’s a queen sized bed. There are four of you though, anyone can take the floor or we can pull out some cushions from this couch,” Ashton shrugged.

You spoke up before anyone else took the offer, “If you guys are all cool with sharing a bed I’ll just take the couch down here,”

“Are you sure? There can be enough space if anyone wants to stay in our rooms too,” Calum said.

Luke was looking at his feet. He ruffled a hand through his hair and then pulled out his phone, sitting down across from you.

“Nah, thank you, but it’s fine. I honestly prefer it,” You sent him a shy smile, to which he mirrored back.

Your eyes landed on your friends, who were each sending you apologetic looks from across the room. You also smiled their way, waving your hand, telling them not to worry about it.

Ashton sighed, “Well, it’s been a long day guys, so I’m heading up. Thank you all for coming, we’ll see you in the morning.”

Everyone agreed and said goodnight, piling up the stairs one after another, except Luke, who wandered a few steps away into his room and shut the door.

It actually felt nice, the air conditioner kept the room cool and a comforting silence.

The only thing that sucked was the clothes you had on. You were waiting for someone to offer, but you’re sure it just slipped their minds. You were wondering if you could pull off just sleeping in your costume, but the thought of your skirt riding up and one of the guys finding you on the couch exposed made you nervous. You wandered over to Luke’s room since he was the closest and knocked on his door.

It took him a minute before he opened the door, his hair matted against his forehead and his face a little red, breathing heavy which was concerning. You decided not to dwell on it and just ask before he fell asleep. It had been a solid fifteen minutes after everyone said goodnight.

“I’m so sorry, but I can’t sleep in these clothes. Do you mind if I borrow some? I swear I’ll have them back in the morning.” You rambled, biting the inside of your cheek out of nervousness. You wouldn’t feel this bad if you had talked to him on the regular, but you didn’t.

It took him a little while before he actually responded, just staring at you, “Yeah, yeah of course.”

Luke opened the door wider so you could walk in. You took the time to admire the small, but comfortable room he had as you waited for some clothes. A tiny sofa chair, guitars, and posters aligned in a corner along with other items that resembled his character.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to see Luke, holding folded items as he extended them out to you.

“Thank you so much,” You said as you showed a small smile, “Like I said I’ll have these back tomorrow.”

He waved, “Stop, I don’t care about that. Get some sleep. There’s a bathroom along the other side of this wall for you to change.”

You glanced out the door to where he pointed and started walking towards it.

“Goodnight, I’ll see you in the morning,” You said to the blonde boy, making your way into the bathroom.

You set the clothes on top of the sink and started undressing. He had given you four items. A pair of boxers, a t-shirt, crewneck, and sweatpants. You put on the boxers and t-shirt and left the others on the sink folded next to your costume.

The thought of wearing another boy’s clothing made you blush, but you pushed the thought away just as fast as it entered your mind.

It was no doubt Luke was a very attractive man. You end up feeling upset sometimes that you’re not close with him because you want to spend more time with him. He’s also part of the reason you came to this party.

Flicking off the lights, you shut the door and made yourself comfortable on the couch. Ashton had brought you down pillows and covers as well.

You spent the next ten minutes scrolling on your phone before attempting to go to sleep.

———————————————————————————

Flashes of white keep you unsteady for the next half hour.

The uncomfortable couch didn’t help, the whole situation made you break out in sweats. Readjusting your position for what felt like the hundredth time that night, you ended up on your back.

Thunder roared as you jolted. You sat up, you were never going to fall asleep.

Before you could shut your eyes in effort to ease your restlessness, a door squeaked open and light dimly lit the room. Your head turned, noticing Luke standing in the doorway.

“Are you ever going to fall asleep?” He asked, tone nothing but serious.

You felt so embarrassed. You figured it wouldn’t be that obvious you were tossing and turning, but the noises of the couch creaking every time you turned didn’t help, “I’m so sorry. Did I wake you?”

He rubbed his tired eyes, “What’s keeping you awake?”

“The storm, and I can’t seem to get comfortable.”

He walked towards you and reached to collect your pillows and sheets, “Come sleep in my room. There’s only one window and I have thick curtains.”

“No, no, I promise you it’s fine.”

“You’re not going to fall asleep out here. C’mon.”

You sighed, “Thank you.”

He smiled, “Don’t mention it.”

You walked into his room and he put your pillows and sheets on the recliner. Walking towards it, Luke’s eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing?”

“Um, getting ready to sleep.”

“You’re taking the bed, don’t even think about arguing it’s too late for that.”

You shook your head. “Luke I already feel guilty about waking you up. Please let me take the chair.”

You heard fake snores. Wow, okay.

You chucked to yourself. “Thank you.” Getting into his unmade bed, you flicked off the lamp on the nightstand as you both said goodnight.

Yet the thunderstorm was only getting worse. You spent the next five minutes embracing the cold sheets before realizing you were too scared to sleep alone.

You felt so embarrassed. Back home, you were able to tell one of your girlfriends to sleep in the same bed- yet share a respectable distance.

Shivers went down your spine. You had to suck it up, just for one night.

Before you could let your thoughts wander any deeper, you felt the bed dip and a faint smell of cologne. “I can see you shiver every time there’s movement outside. Is this okay? Are you uncomfortable?” Luke was spooning you— he draped his hand over your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You could cry, really, and the last few hours emphasized feelings for this boy that you didn’t know were already there. You felt your entire body get hot, yet all tension left it at the same time. You eased into his touch, pushing your head further into the pillows which resulted to his in your neck. You swore there were tears welling in your eyes.

“Yeah, very comfortable. Thanks.” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

He didn’t break his position. “We’re in a really intimate position right now, so I feel like there’s no other time to bring this up, but, I really want to get to know you better. I really like you,” the blonde chuckled.

“I do too, Luke. I would love to spend more time with you.”

You swore you were dreaming. You were all alone a few minutes ago, and now you’re sleeping in Luke’s bed— with him.

You felt his fingers move to your side, the digits playing and fidgeting with your exposed skin. He untucked his head from your neck, instead moving your hair over your shoulder and kissing along the space he created.

Heat immediately erupted all over your body. God, it’s been so long— too long— since you’ve been touched.

You melt into him, arching and breathing heavy. He sits up, leaving you both on your side, but to get easier access to your body.

Luke continues suckling on your neck, making noticeable marks no doubt. He nips at your ear, creating marks down your jaw. The blonde continues his suckling for a while, going back and licking at each of the marks before flipping you on your back.

You both can barely see each other, Luke flicks on the lamp next to his bed yet it’s still so dark you can only see his prominent features.

His face is flushed, lips parted and puffed, hair disheveled. So much like when you opened the door to ask for clothes an hour or two ago.

You’re sure you look similar— you feel heat course throughout your body and you’re incredibly needy for him and his touch.

He reaches forward after admiring you for a good while. “Can I take this off?” Tugging at your shirt.

“Yes.”

You practically cry out, you didn’t want to seem too touch deprived— but damn was this getting you.

He pulls up your shirt and admires your beauty. He looks like he’s starving and you’re the only meal in the room. “God help me,” he mumbles.

You chuckle, but it’s cut off quickly as he reaches down to start toying with your breasts. “Mm, such pretty tits all for me. Right? Just f’me?” You gasped, you weren’t expecting dirty talk this soon, but it was working. You were soaking your panties, you’re so sure the patch can be seen through his boxers.

“Mm, yes baby,” you moan. You were always loud in bed with each experience you’ve had. Most of the guys didn’t like it, so you tried to keep quiet this time.

Luke did the unexpected, bringing his mouth down to suck along your breast, keeping attention on the other as well. You closed your eyes, lost in bliss as he slightly nibbled your nipple. You cried out, glaring down at him just to see him already glaring up at you.

He switched, doing the same exact thing to the opposite breasts. It was going to be a long night and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to it.

“How wet are you?” He murmurs as he glides down your body, peppering kisses until he meets the waistband of your—his—boxers.

You’re taken aback by the question, “what?”

“How wet did you get for me?” He repeated.

“Um, I want you,” you blushed.

He chuckled, “I know you do baby, but that wasn’t my question. I want you to tell me how wet you are. Can you feel it?”

“Yes, I can feel it Luke.” You want to break eye contact, but it feels impossible, the way he’s looking at you is addicting.

“Describe it to me. How does it feel?” He continues.

You moan, “I can feel it soaking my panties, Luke. It’s gushing out of me and I’m sure you’ll be able to see it through your boxers. I need it, please, I need you so bad.”

His lips part a good amount. He looks even hungrier than before, and you can tell your words tested him. The blonde wasn’t expecting you to be so— descriptive.

“Fucking christ, well let’s see then?” He sits back on his knees as you arch up for him, wanting him to see that you want him to see.

You were right, you’re absolutely soaked through and the wet patch is even bigger than you both expected. Luke sighed heavily.

“Looks like you’re right peach. Fucking drenched. You’re incredible.” You gave him innocent eyes when you looked up at him.

Boldness hit you. You wanted to say something, but debated saying it because you didn’t know if he would be into it or not. Taking a chance, you reply,

“Are you going to clean up my mess, sir?”

What were once oceanic blue orbs turned to navy, all you could sense was lust. Luke wasted no time. Ripping off his boxers and your panties in one go.

He lay flat on his stomach before diving right into your core. You slammed the palm of your hand onto your mouth, moaning right into it.

Right away, he rips your hand off your mouth and puts it into his hair. You tug at his locks. The strokes if his tongue were going back and forth between your entrance and clit. You glanced down at him and it was the biggest mistake, his glare towards you was enough to make your head fall right back to where it was on the pillow as your eyes rolled back.

He sucks your sensitive nub into his mouth, and it’s impossible to not hear the slurping. You’ve never felt pleasure like this before, in fact, you think this is the first time someones ever gone down on you. You bite your lip to surprise your moans, but it barely works.

Luke switches up, his mouth going down to push into and lap up at your core, cleaning up all the arousal that’s pooling out of you. He brings his fingers into the mix, thumbing at your clit and rubbing circles so roughly.

He continues his assault on your pussy in the most euphoric way. He sits up, his fingers still pumping inside of you.

“Baby, thinking about all the things Im going to do to you when you’re mine.. G’nna fuck this tight little pussy so good, so hard..”

You groan, “Please baby. Tell me how, tell me.”

“Mmm. Fuck you messy n’ tired. Take you from behind, slowly, and feel you up, kissin down your back. Or I’ll have you so good that you cum so much it hurts, but you still ask for more.”

He puts his mouth back on you and you cum right then and there. It’s such bliss you don’t understand how someone could ever make you feel like this. Flashes of white flash behind your eyes and you can’t tell if it’s lightning filling the room or just your aftershocks of the orgasm.

Luke is still going, lapping up your cum that leaks out of you. You’re hand that’s raked in his hair starts tugging, telling him to stop. He pulls back, coming up immediately to kiss you.

“That was incredible, thank you. I’ve never felt that before,” you compliment. He gives you a lazy smile.

You notice his erection against your leg as you sit up. “Let me take care of you?”

“Mmm, we both need sleep love. In the morning? Wake me up with it.” He smirks. Your face heats up again.

The boy pulls his shirt back over you, turning off the lamp and tucks you both into your covers.

Before you fall into a deep and comfortable sleep as Luke is rubbing your back, you think of what has just happened and smile to yourself. This event will play back in your head forever, and you can’t help but hope everything that’s happened with Luke will continue to evolve.

You hear and feel his quiet breathes, and you realize you’re not sure if you can ever sleep without him during thunderstorms again.

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luveline · 11 months

Note

hi! could I request a fic where reader has trouble falling asleep without someone with her? maybe with Hotch or Miguel? like their voices soothe her into sleep? only if you feel like it!! have an amazing day and I adore your writing! 💟💟

hi gorgeous, thank you! ♡ fem

Hotch is rubbing the knots out of his neck when his phone pings with a text.

Hi, handsome, hopefully you're sleeping, so when you wake up I was wondering if you can send me the photos from last Wednesday to print <3

He adores your silly electronic heart.

Hotch clicks your contact and brings the phone to his ear, waiting as the dial trills once. You pick up immediately, sounding sorry and sweet and the slightest bit tired. "Hey. You're awake."

"Yes, I'm awake, I just got home. Why are you awake? It's four in the morning, honey."

"You sound very accusatory right now. You're accusing me."

"Mm. Can I come over, or will you fall asleep before I get there?"

"Fat chance of that. You're really coming over?" you ask.

Hotch leaps up the moment he hears the relief in your voice. Something is wrong, and you won't tell him over the phone. He says goodbye gently, dresses less so, and makes an impressively quick journey to your home to put whatever it is back the way it should be.

You seem in good spirits even though the hollows under your eyes are prominent in the light of the porch, opening your arms for him and hugging him there on the door jam, rumpled under his chin. "You're not wearing a suit."

"Would you have preferred that?"

"Only if you were gonna take it off."

"You'd like that, hmm?" he asks, his teasing at odds with the dulcet cadence of his voice. "I'll dance."

You giggle into his chest. Hotch grins but quashes it as you look up for a kiss, your lips soft, sweet against his. You kiss his cupid's bow all smushed upward before stepping away from him, your hands drifting together. He pauses to lock the door and take off his shoes. You tug him impatiently back to your room.

Hotch has dreams about your bedroom. There's something about you, the way you climb into bed and sit pretty against the headboard waiting for him to follow you in, innocuous, intensely tempting. He pulls back the sheets and slides in, needling an arm under you to drag you into his side and down onto your back simultaneously.

"Unnecessary show of strength," you say with a laugh.

"Just reminding you."

You turn out your lamp. He squirms to get comfortable. Your mattress is a mess and he's not young enough to bear it without consequence in the morning, but he'll suffer it and worse if it means you'll stay nestled against his side, your cheek at home on his bicep, your arm wrapped around his middle.

"You'll tell me what's keeping you up?" he asks, hushed.

"I really don't know how you just know these things…" You give in, because you always give in with him, and (to his credit), he always listens. "I don't think I can sleep without you, Aaron, I really don't."

"Why? You're not worrying about me, are you?" he asks.

"No. Of course I am, but that's not the problem. I just struggle without you here. It's easier when you call me, I can fall asleep with you talking to me. But otherwise it's hard."

"How did you fall asleep before me?" he asks fondly, turning his face to nose at your temple.

"I'm used to you, I think. I'm spoiled."

"You aren't spoiled." He pressed his lips to your cheek, eyes closed to breathe you in. "What do you want me to talk about? Think of something soothing."

"You aren't a man with many soothing stories," you say.

Hotch tells you about the quieter things in his life, the things that make undertaking the unsaid worthwhile. Jack wants to be Bugs Bunny for Halloween and Hotch has no idea why. Spencer destroyed his computer with a cup of coffee —the problem being the amount of undisolved sugar clumped at the bottom of his cup that found its way into the computers RAM with no hopes of cleaning, rather than the drink itself. His office door squeaks constantly and he's half mad with it, but there's no solution beyond waiting for someone in maintenance to oil the hinge.

He realises you've fallen asleep somewhere in his stories and he hadn't noticed. He didn't think your confession was wholly true. Perhaps you're stressed, or anxious in a way you haven't shared. And yet you fall asleep as promised from the sound of his voice, your hand scrunched in his shirt like you worry he'll escape you, your eyelid to his arm. Hotch contemplates you as you sleep, pulling the sheets snugly to your chin. He doesn't know if you know this, but you're his sweetheart. He finds you so precious, among a thousand other things, brave and kind and loving, but he knows he's a lucky man. He's the spoiled one.

If you need his voice to fall asleep to, he'll talk until he's hoarse. And while he's away, he'll have to remember to call. He can't have you missing out on sleep. Hotch kisses the hollow under your eye and tries to sleep too, but he finds he misses the sound of your voice.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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navstuffs · 11 months

Text

The Visitor

Pairing: Incubus!Leon Kennedy x GNSupernaturalHunter!Reader

Summary: Your mom always told you to find allies between your enemies - but your incubus consultant, Leon Kennedy, wants to be more than that.

Warning tags: SMUT with gn!reader so MINORS DNI,frenemies to lovers, sexual tension, masturbation, oral sex, penetration, excessive cum (its my headcanon for incubus so), jealousy sex (sorta)

Author's tags: we are the end of my halloween challenge! thank you so much for everyone who supported me. i am so freaking proud and happy with myself that i finally got to finish ONE thing that i commited! last one has to be smut. happy halloween!! enjoy your reading!

my halloween's masterlist

Rain starts as you drive to your home. It has been one heck of a night. The streets are empty as they should be at 2 a.m., but your senses are on high alert. You blame your genetics: coming from a legendary lineage of supernatural hunters, you were expected to become one from your early age, liking or not. It was in your blood. The problem? To be able to sniff other supernatural beings with that same skill prompts your social and love life to be awkward sometimes.

Take tonight as an example: first date with a nice fellow you met on a dating app. When you arrived, your sixth sense instantly picked a creature nearby; you shouldn't be surprised, but obviously, it came from your date. The man, a recently transformed werewolf, ended up reacting to your dangerous smell. And what was supposed to be an excellent night with you fucking your brains out ended up with an awkward goodbye, together with the silent promise of never seeing each other again.

As you park your car in front of your house, you rest your head on your wheel. It had been like this for a while: you met a nice person until you found out they were friends with a vampire or a family member who was a banshee. Your romantic life was nonexistent, which your mom would approve of: "We must remain sharp. No time for this romance bs." Says the woman who almost ran away with a vampire as a teenager.

You are so focused on your thoughts you don't pick up the familiar sensation stinging in your chest as you should. You had been around him so long that your body had started not to react in alert when you were near him. It's almost as if you are getting comfortable.

You exit your car, covering your eyes against the rain, which is getting stronger. You notice the familiar figure sitting on the steps of your porch. He has his hood on, his face partially obscured by the darkness, but you would know him from anywhere: Leon Kennedy. The incubus, you sometimes have the displeasure to work with him. You sigh, wondering what he was doing there so late.

As you approach the entrance, Leon raises his head, and you are met with a pair of enchanted blue eyes. You can feel your stomach twist in a way you are used to by now. It is not technically his fault: Leon needs to have this effect on people if he wants to feed. His eyes start from your head to your well-dressed figure, then your legs, and return to your face. You decide to ignore that and the way your body has warmed up.

"What is it? This better be important." You scoff, and Leon finally gets up, opening a small smile.

"Am I not always important?" Leon chuckles, crossing his arms, a smug smile on his lips. Attractive bastard, you think.

"Yeah, sure, sure. What is it, Kennedy?"

"And where did you come from? A date?"

"Kennedy, I really don't have time for that." You answer, impatient. Your body is telling you to get away from the "monster," and you have to trust your instincts. You search for your house key, walking past Leon and ignoring how inviting he looks tonight.

"Werewolf this time? At least it wasn't a ghoul like last time," Leon teases you, walking up behind you. You look back at him, furious, after opening the door of your house, and Leon raises his arms in a sign of defeat. "I am kidding."

"No, you are wasting my time. Goodnight, Kennedy." As you try to close the door on his face, Leon stops it. You look at him like he has gone crazy, caught off guard by the look you are met back: hungry as a hunter staring at his defenseless prey.

The rational part of you wants to tell Leon to fuck off and close the door on his face. Advising you to remain unaffected if Leon is trying to seduce you now. But you are so tired tonight that you let the irrational one speak. The one that is needy for some sort of human contact tonight. Even if it's from a freaking demon, who pisses the crap out of you.

And to not help, the next time Leon speaks is in a much more vulnerable tone.

"Can I come in?"

Your mom's biggest piece of advice? That you should always find allies between your enemies. They were always traitor among their kind. You and Leon met by accident three years ago. Like most sex demons, he would prey on his victims in places with a strong sexual desire, like strip clubs, bars, or regular clubs.

You were there trying to find another sex demon who was killing his victims after sex, instead finding yourself in the middle of a fight between two very hungry incubus. You should have had an easy time, but a bigger fight started amongst the humans present as well. It was a mess.

Leon helped you, to your surprise. You realized he was an incubus as soon as he grabbed your hand to get you out of the middle of the mess. Your body reacted as it should to his presence: you pulled your hand away, disgusted, but simultaneously, you were affected (and you knew it). Usually, you shouldn't remain unaffected by their extreme sexual energy (they were created for that), but with Leon, it was different. You didn't know why. Leon offered to help find this killer incubus, which proved to be an easier task with him at your side.

And now you could consider him your partner. A very annoying, sexy, good-looking sex demon partner who always looked at your body with interest when he thought you weren't looking.

Like right now. You ignore again your rational part as you bend over to find a bottle of water by the fridge. If Leon's eyes are on your ass or not, you don't really care. It is your fault for letting him inside your house anyway.

"Again, what do you need, Kennedy?" You ask as you close the fridge door with a bump. Leon is resting against the kitchen counter, the hood down. His dirty blonde hair is by his shoulders now, much longer than you first met.

"Decided to go for a bike ride late at night. Couldn't sleep."

"Oh? And you are telling me that because? Are we friends or something?" Leon ignores the irony in your voice, a small smile on his lips. You wait.

"No, we are not."

"Good, because-"

"I don't want to be your friend, anyway." Leon declares a somber tone in his voice. It's that same feeling you have had many times near Leon: he is trying to take down your defense walls, one by one. Wanting for you to feel anything other than danger.

"I see. The feeling is mutual." You whisper back, clearly affected this time. Leon starts approaching you slowly. When he stops before you, your back against the cold fridge. There is nowhere to run from his blue eyes. You can't move or don't want to move.

"What do you truly want?" You murmur again, afraid of the answer. Leon places each arm to your sides, caging your body with his. You have never felt so scared before, but not in the wrong way. Never felt so small. So powerless. Passing control to someone else shouldn't feel so easy.

"What do you think I want?" He tilts his head to one side, tempting you to answer. You bite your lips, wanting to close your eyes but keeping them locked on his. You can still pull him away, your rational part suggests. Pull him away and never see Leon Kennedy again. But do you truly want that?

"This is a trick." You place your hands on Leon's chest. Either stopping or grabbing it, you don't know. You close your eyes, shaking your head, refusing to see, to feel what is right in front of you: Leon Kennedy wants you.

You were doomed from the start as soon as you let him in. Not here, not today, but from the club. From accepting his hand, reaching out to you.

You know that getting too close to the sun could eventually burn. You have known since the first meeting that allowing Leon Kennedy into your life would be trouble. The wet dreams about him, the fact you would get jealous every time he went out for "a meal." You tried to deny for a long time, ignore, and kill those feelings that only grew stronger. Because who would be stupid enough to fall in love with an incubus?

"Open your eyes." Leon's smooth voice commands, and you still fight again, your body urging you to obey him. Tired of resisting, you open to find him just inches away from your face, his lips close enough so you can finally kiss them. "I can give you what you want. You wouldn't have to go scoping around searching for it. I can leave you breathless. I can give you all the pleasure you deserve and much more."

Leon's voice sounds like butter. This is it: you are into the incubus enchantment. You are melting inside, your hands now grabbing his hoodie.

What actually breaks you is that Leon seems to be asking for your permission. Deep down, Leon could seduce you, could make you kneel and beg for him. Instead, the silent please in his eyes, the desperation in his voice, his hand trembling against your cheek. You close your hands around his hoodie, bringing his lips into yours. It surprises you how ferocious you are kissing him, surprises you how you moan into the kiss.

Finally, your body aches relieved. Finally.

The feeling is mutual to Leon. What he never has told you is that since he met you, he knew he had to have you: he didn't know what it was about you. He had never heard of anyone of his kind falling in love (they are supposed to be the embodiment of sexual desire, anyway). The time bonding together (for more, you tried to not call that), fighting other creatures, and saving each other's asses made Leon just desire you even more. And for some strange reason, you seemed to reciprocate his feelings, too stubborn to admit.

His feelings for you made him stop feeding as much, as Leon didn't find much fun and interest in other people. Everything tasted bland and boring compared to you. It didn't help with the dreams, the horny thoughts about you getting worse and worse. Usually, jerking off would be like a small snack for Leon, but thinking about you never left him completely satisfied. He needed to have you.

And tonight, especially tonight, after another sleepless night and having another dream about you sucking him off, Leon decided to, as numerous past nights, bike around town to cool off. He would need to get home and maybe jerk off again, imagining you squirming under him, begging for him to move when he noticed your smell. His attention turned into jealousy when he saw you hugging a werewolf who clearly had sexual intentions towards you.

After seeing this, Leon turned his motorcycle around with one destination: your house. He needed to try. He needed to show you what he felt for you. And if you sent him away, well, at least he would have tried.

Your bodies are entirely in sync. You are surprised to notice Leon knows precisely where and how you desire to be touched and how you like to be kissed. You "blame" the incubus side: he is supposed to seduce you, so you give him what you want.

You fall back into your mattress, and Leon pulls away from you momentarily. You are only in your underwear, bare chest, a complete mess with your lips swollen with the kisses. Your body is vibrating for him: Leon needs to admire that. Or else he would never believe his dreams turned into reality.

"You look so beautiful." He whispers with reverence, taking his hoodie off. You are surprised to see him with no shirt on. Leon pulls his pants down, and you gulp, watching his cock spring free.

"No underwear?" You wonder, your eyes locked into his hard-on. Were all incubus supposed to be this thick and big?

"Easier that way," Leon answers, shrugging his shoulder. He kisses you again, and his hands take off the last piece of your underwear. He doesn't even know where to touch you first: your hard nipples or your sex? He is eager and somehow nervous. Leon is probably the first case of a nervous incubus in history.

"Leon?" You call his name, confused. He raises his head to meet your eyes, an emotional expression on his face. It is the first time you have called him by his name.

Leon starts paying attention to your nipples. He watches for your reaction, twisting and pinching the way that makes you moan more. You are clay under his hands; if Leon told you to run around naked, you would. At this moment time, you are no one else except his.

"Spread your legs for me."

You obey his command, feeling his hard-on against your thigh. His hands go down your belly to your sex, more wet than usual. Leon smiles, rubbing you with a fingertip to get a taste of your juice. He chuckles as you tremble, your face embarrassed.

"I have never been so wet like this," You confess.

"You never heard? Incubus charm can do that. Especially if the other one desires us back, really, really bad." You ignore the way he probably would have said meal. You can feel his breath between your tights, and your hands go into his shoulders to warn him.

"I won't last long if you do this."

"Exactly my point."

By the first touch of Leon's tongue on your needy sex, you can feel close to the orgasm. Your body is so warm, and one of your hands grabs his golden locks, keeping his head there. That only seems to thrill Leon more: He explores with his tongue up and down your sex, and you can't hold back your moans, your other hand grabbing the sheets under you. Leon hums, satisfied as he continues to savor you.

It doesn't take long for you to cum in Leon's mouth. There is a sound of approval coming from his chest as your entire body shakes under him, your eyes rolling. It had never been this strong with your past partners, you had never come this fast. You would never tell Leon that. You need a moment to relax as Leon raises his head, licking his lips.

"Delicious. Even better, what I imagined." You try to not look embarrassed as he compliments you, the warm feeling in your chest happy to hear that.

"Leon?" You call him worried.

You finally realize his eyes remain the same blue eye color. You might not know a lot about incubus sex, but one thing you know is that their eyes turn a different color when they are feeding. You had heard about red, deep red, orange, orange red-ish.

"You okay? Need more moments?"

"Why didn't you feed?" The worried tone of your voice doesn't go unnoticed by him. Leon smiles, attempting to ease your worries.

"I didn't ask for your consent. Didn't think it would be fair."

"You don't ask for consent for the others." You argue, the tone of jealousy making him chuckle. Leon lays on top of you, his arms caging you again.

"You are not like the others. You are special." Before the weight of his confession would make you run away scared, screaming for your life. Now, it makes you lock your legs around his hips, purring content.

"I am sure you say that to all others."

"No, I don't." His tone is serious. Leon starts to rub against your still-sensitive sex. He lowers down to kiss you, slowly and this time more patiently. You can taste yourself in Leon's mouth, making you wonder what Leon's taste is. When you break away, you confess in a hushed whisper you want him to feed.

You want him satisfied with you. Only you.

When Leon penetrates you slowly, to not hurt you, for more wet that your entrance is with his magic, you watch fascinated his eyes turn into a weak red. He probably had been hungry for a long time, and something inside of you told Leon that he would need much more to be fed entirely. Leon pushes all his dick inside of you, giving both a moment to calm yourself. You feel delicious wrapped around him like that: tight and warm. There would be really no one else for him after this.

"You can move now." You whisper, rubbing his face. His first thrust is gentle but still drags a sob out of you. How come Leon has found your pleasure spot so quick? It had to be luck.

Your body had never been in such sync with someone else like that before: Leon knew precisely how to move his hips, how exactly would you make you moan the loudest. It doesn't take long for you to cum again, his thrusts still gentle, hitting that specific pleasure spot you love so much repeatedly. After you cum, Leon stops, worried you might say this is over, but you lift yourself from the bed with one hand, the other holding Leon's neck so he can look at you. You demand more from him, harder, faster. That makes you scream. That the whole town knows who you belong from now.

Your consent is probably what drives him over the edge. Leon doesn't stop now, and if it wasn't for his arm holding around your shoulder to keep you in the bed, you would have fallen out with the strength of his thrusts. You sound incoherent by now, pleading for something, someone, watching Leon's eyes flicker into a stronger red. His eyes never entirely leave your face, his hips hitting against yours with a supernatural strength. You thank mentally for your genetics, or else Leon could have actually hurt you.

You both are close now, you to your third orgasm, Leon on his first one after weeks. Or months. He remembers how many times he has fapped to this vision before, your eyes rolling with your mouth parted as you begged him to not stop, to fuck you insane, never enough to completely satisfy him. But tonight, Leon is giving you all that he has gotten.

When you both come at the same time, your back arches against the bed, and your vision goes white. You scream, your body trembling under Leon's arm, holding onto his shoulders as if you are drowning in the water. Leon is your anchor now, keeping you remotely sane.

As Leon fills you up with a strangled moan of your name, Leon feels his starvation to subdue. He is still hungry as he always would be for you, but this time he is sated. Different from all the other times he had feed: different from the simple fucks he had when he was hungry. As the closest thing from an incubus could feel from love.

It takes you a few minutes to come back to reality. You blink, Leon at your side this time, his arm around you and his head resting against your shoulder. He has his eyes closed, but he isn't sleeping.

"You okay?" He asks, finally opening his eyes. They are back to their normal blue eyes, even looking more vivid.

"Yeah, I guess?" You can feel his cum in your tights leaking from your entrance. "What have you done to me?"

"I told you I would have given you what you deserved." Leon chuckles, and you hit in the arm lightly. Convinced bastard.

You sit down, wincing at the soreness in the middle of your legs. You wonder if you were entirely human if you could walk the following day. There is a small puddle of white cum in the bed, and you look at him, surprised.

"Didn't know you guys could make this much mess…"

"Only when we are entirely satisfied."

Leon lays on his back, arms lifted with his head resting against his hands, a satisfied smile on his lips like he just had the biggest meal of his entire life. And he did: you look a mess, and Leon loves being the reason for that.

"So, do you have to leave now or…?"

"Not if you don't want me," Leon answers softly.

"I don't." You confess, and Leon smiles, happy. The confused feelings in your thoughts and heart could stay for tomorrow. Now, you need a shower and change your sheets. Then cuddle with the man next to you.

"Do you guys cuddle?" You ask, sounding like an idiot, and Leon giggles again.

"I think we can. You will be my first one anyway."

First one? Before you can ask what that means, Leon gets up from the bed. You watch as the light of the night illuminates his body, marked with your love. He raises his hand.

"I can see you are overthinking. Let's worry about tomorrow when tomorrow arrives, okay?"

You nod. Sounds like the perfect plan.

taglist: @90sbee, @scar-crossedlvrs, @roseglazedlens, @sarahs-secrets2

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy fanfic #AND IM DONEEEEEE #never again im doing this lol

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rhey-007 · 1 year

Text

*+:｡.｡ 𝕮𝖔𝖗𝖓 𝕸𝖆𝖟𝖊 ｡.｡:+*

FP Jones x reader | 18+ SMUT

Summary: after saving your brothers ass from serpents, you get a pleasant surprise from FP

Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation (f receiving), slight age gap (reader is 20, FP in his late 20's), outdoors sex

Author's note: it's my first time writing smut 🫣 so I apologise in advance (just in case) 😅 enjoy!

It was 31st October 1995, Halloween.

Your first Halloween as an adult.

Your father was a farmer known for his halloween corn mazes so it was obvious that you would help him prepare it for halloween. You would go inside and place various decorations, starting from jack-o'-lanters through scarecrows, finishing at bedsheet ghosts. That was a standard, but this year you also decided to hire your friends to dress up as monsters, hide in the corn and scare people. Of course you weren't an exception either. You dressed up as a blood thirsty nun that greeted children, teens and adults by the entrance, and later joined your friends inside the maze, while your father sold the tickets dressed as a murderous clown.

You found scaring people fun, especially the kids. But your enjoyment came to an end later that evening when you had to come back to the reception and replace your father for a while. That's when a scarecrow like creature came running in your direction. Though it didn't take you long to figure out it was your older brother Ben, who must have gotten himself in some shit again, followed by a couple of furious serpents.

You didn't say a word, just shook your head disapprovingly and shoved Ben into the maze. As you later found out, your brother angried the serpents by stealing from them, it wasn't a lot but you knew each gram of heroin was worth the anger. Ben quickly left but managed to shout you a short thanks and sorry.

Now you just had to deal with the serpents...

When they made their way to you, you would finally see who it actually was, and of course it couldn't be anyone esle than Forsythe Pendleton Jones II with his two sidekicks. In that moment you knew you'll have a hard job to do. You didn't know FP personally, but you heard a lot about him, mostly bad things, and you started to worry you wouldn't be able to handle them.

''What do you want here FP''

You stood in front of the gateway and looked the man up and down, just as he did to you.

''Move. Kid.''

He hissed, but you just furrowed your brows and crossed your arms. No one's gonna call you a kid, especially not that douchebag. You stood there in silence for a while, neither of you planning on moving, so you finally spoke up.

''I don't care what he did, but I'm sure you're not pleased with that. But instead of chasing him and trying to beat his ass maybe you should try to think of a way to prevent more situations like that, huh? ... Oh wait! You can't, you're too dumb''

You smiled at him sweetly after your short speech. FP curled his hands into fists angrily, a vein about to pop on his forehead. He had enough of the bratty girl so he just shoved her to the ground and run into the maze. The girl took too much of their time already.

After getting up from the ground and dusting yourself off, you looked at your watch wondering how much time it would take the three to come back. In fact it didn't take them a lot as just after few turns they were lost. Good thing one of them memorised the way, so they came back the same way they went it. You smirked triumphally seeing three slumped figures leave the maze, you knew well they wouldn't make it far.

At night you sneaked into Ben's room to retrieve the stolen goods, you couldn't let him take it after all.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 🎃 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next day was time to clean the maze and gather the corn. You and your best friend Ashley cleaned it from the early hours of the day and just by accident FP knew about it. In reality he met one of your friends he's seen you once with in the town and forced that information out of him. He came to the attraction early enough to already find you inside. The man sneaked in without Ashley noticing and found you quite qickly as you weren't far away.

''You already finished Ashley?''

You asked as you heard someone move behind you, but you couldn't care enought to turn around. Well... not until you heared his voice.

''It ain't her''

He said as he came closer to you. You gulped softly not expecting to see FP there.

''The attraction is closed, come back next year''

You huffed, trying to stay calm and not show the slight fear that boiled inside of you. Why you were so scared suddenly? Because you had nothing to defend yourself with and the look in his eyes made you feel uneasy. FP looked at you as a predator would look at his prey. He moved closer and closer until he had you squished in a corner.

''If the attracion is closed then why are you still here, sugar?''

The nickname made you feel sick, which you couldn't say about his cologne that weirdly calmed you down. FP put his hands on your hips and squeezed them gently.

''Not a lot of people stand up against me... Yet you...''

He licked his lips while looking down at you.

''You did it without a second thought just to defend your stupid brother. And you know what?... That turns me on''

FP didn't even give you a chance to say something before he smashed his lips on yours. You had to admit you were pleasantly surprised, which sounds weird considering the fact that you didn't even know him. But he was handsome... really handsome, and you always had a thing for him that you never admited out loud, even though he was older than you and it felt a little inappropriate. So when he kissed you, it just took you a few second to kiss him back, which surely satisfied and exctied the older man.

You pulled away when you felt breathless and looked down not wanting to make eye contact with FP, a dark blush appearing on your pale face.

„You've just kissed me as if your life depended on it and now you're all shy?"

The man mocked, his hand reaching up to capture your chin and lift it up so you would look back at him, a wicked smirk was painted on his face. It really suited him. Soon FP's hand wandered back to your hip to then grab your ass. You squeaked when he picked you up, your arms immediately wrapping around his neck. He put you down on hay bales stacked together then started his unholy ministrations on your neck, earning quiet moans from you every now and then. If that wasn't enough, one of his hands rubbed your thigh up and down, each time coming closer to your aching core, while the other creeped under your shirt, slowly making it's way to your breasts.

„Fp... „

You moaned out, your hands gripping his mucled arm and burgundy T-shirt. The man took it as a sing to proceed further, his hand slipped under your bra and started to massage your breast. Your palm slid down his clothed torso to meet his semi hard member and grip it gently. He groaned into your ear when you did that and bit it softly then captured your lips into another, more aggressive but still passionate kiss.

„God dammit sweetheart... „

FP couldn’t wait anymore, he unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants and boxers down then did the same to your shorts and panties. You looked down, your mouth in slight agape. He was huge, at least he seemed like it, you didn’t think you'd be able to take him all but you were wrong. With one swift thrust he was balls deep inside of you. A juicy moan escaped your lips which made FP slam his hand on top of them.

„Shh... We don't want anyone to find out, do we?"

He whispered and tilted his head softly. You just nodded obediently and let him fuck you. His hips moved with an agonizing yet sweetly pleasuring pace. You never thought sex could be that good, and it wasn't your first time.

„Shit... Ya feel so good... „

He groaned out. His palm moved from your lips to your neck to grip it softly, your own hand quickly following it signaling your worry about the act.

„Don't worry... Don't wanna loose such great pussy so quickly... "

The man breathed out between grunts. You decided to trust him so you moved your hands to his cheeks to pull his face down for a kiss. In meanwhile FP started to circle his thumb on your clit, giving you even more pleasure and almost immediately making you reach your orgasm. He groaned dissatisfied into your lips and mumbled.

„Thought you'll last longer... Now you gotta gimmie another one sugar...”

He sped up his movement both on your clit and inside of you.

„I... I-I can't take it... Anymore... "

You've managed to say between moans, but it didn't seem to affect the man in any way, he just kept fucking you relentlessly.

„You on the pill? „

He asked suddenly when he felt the two of you were about to finish. You just nodded and soon another wave of pleasure hit you alongside the warmth of FP's seed spilling out inside of you. You both breathed heavily, neither of you going to say anything, just indulging in pleasure and silence. Soon FP pulled his member out of you, his semen slowly spilling out.

„Look at you...”

The man smirked triumphantly after tucking himself back into his boxers and pulling his pants back up.

„Wouldn’t thought Ben's sister's pussy could be that good of a fuck”

You just rolled your eyes, you were kind of annoyed that you've let him fuck you but also really satisfied. You cleaned yourself with a tissue then put your underwear and shorts on.

"And I wanted to give you this back"

You said as you wiggled the bag of heroin in front of his face and shook your head with a smirk. FP smiled back at you and snatched the bag away to then hide it in the pocket of his jacket.

„When's next session? ”

You soon blurted out earning a little confused look from FP at first but his expression changed rather fast, as now he was smiling from ear to ear.

„I'll pick you up at 7. Now lemme help you get this maze cleaned”

After a some time, what seemed like a few quickies and fuck sessions turned into something more.

#fp jones x reader #fp jones #riverdale fp jones #riverdale #riverdale smut #smut #18+ fanfic #riverdale fanfiction #halloween

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