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goddessofvalyria · 2 months ago

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GROUPIE LOVE | Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: Aemond Targaryen, a famous rock star, notices a girl in the audience and when he waves to her backstage with a casual wave of his fingers, she follows him without thinking twice.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, SMUT, She/Her pronouns, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, masturbation (f and m receiving)squirting, sexual tension, sex.

English is not my first language, be kind <3

This is my Masterlist

Words: 3135

"You're in the bar, playing guitar I'm trying not to let the crowd next to me It's so hard sometimes with a star When you have to share him with everybody You're in the club, living it up I'm trying not to let the crowd notice me It's so sweet, swingin' to the beat When I know that you're doing it all for me"

— Groupie Love, Lana Del Rey & A$AP Rocky

The air inside the small backstage room is heavy with anticipation. The crowd outside roars as the band plays their final encore, the thumping beat of the drums reverberating through the walls. She waits, perched on the edge of a weathered leather couch, fingers tapping nervously against her knee. She knows she shouldn’t be here, but the pull is irresistible. The allure of the man who will soon walk through that door is too strong to ignore.

Aemond Targaryen.

The name is enough to send a shiver down her spine. He’s a legend, the frontman and the guitarist of the most iconic rock band of their generation, and she’s just another face in the sea of fans. But tonight, he noticed her. He spotted her in the crowd, his intense violet eyes locking onto hers, a smirk curling his lips as he sang. And when he beckoned her backstage with a casual flick of his fingers, she followed without a second thought.

The door swings open, and there he is, sweat-drenched and wild-eyed, electric energy still buzzing around him from the show. He’s everything she imagined he would be—tall, lean, with a striking face that’s both beautiful and fierce. His platinum hair falls in tangled waves around his shoulders, framing that captivating eye patch covering his left eye. His gaze lands on her, and a slow, knowing smile spreads across his lips.

“Hey” he drawls, voice low and husky from hours of singing, yet still dripping with charisma. He crosses the room in a few long strides, dropping onto the couch beside her, his thigh pressing against hers. The air between them crackles with tension, the kind that makes her heart race and her breath hitch.

“Hi” she manages to whisper, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her own heartbeat. She feels like she’s in a dream, every nerve in her body alive and humming. She can hardly believe she’s here, sitting next to Aemond Targaryen, close enough to touch.

He reaches out, a finger curling under her chin, tilting her head up so she’s looking directly into his eye. “You enjoyed the show?” he asks, his breath warm against her lips. The words are almost a purr, filled with an intimacy that sends a flush of heat through her body.

She nods, swallowing hard. “It was amazing. You were amazing.”

Aemond’s smirk deepens, his thumb brushing lightly over her bottom lip. “Glad to hear it. I like knowing my fans appreciate what I do.” His hand moves to cup her cheek, his thumb now stroking along her jawline, the touch sending shivers down her spine.

There’s something dark and dangerous in his gaze, a promise of what’s to come. He leans in closer, his lips ghosting over hers, teasing her with the barest hint of a kiss. “You want to show me just how much you appreciate it?” he murmurs, his breath mingling with hers.

Her breath catches in her throat. She’s never wanted anything more in her life. She nods, her lips parting in anticipation, and that’s all the encouragement Aemond needs. He kisses her, slow and sensual, his lips soft but demanding against hers. His hand tangles in her hair, pulling her closer as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, tasting, exploring.

She melts into him, a soft moan escaping her lips as his hand slides down her body, tracing the curve of her waist, his fingers slipping under her leather bustier. His touch is electrifying, sending sparks of desire coursing through her veins. She arches into him, craving more, needing more.

Aemond pulls back slightly, his lips hovering over hers, his breath ragged. “You’re beautiful” he whispers, his hand moving to cup her breast, his thumb brushing over her hardened nipple through the fabric of her bra. “So fucking beautiful.”

She whimpers, her head falling back against the couch as his mouth moves to her neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. His hands are everywhere, roaming her body with a hunger that leaves her breathless, her skin tingling with anticipation. She feels his lips curl into a grin against her throat as his fingers trail lower, slipping beneath the waistband of her skirt.

“Spread your legs for me, love” he murmurs against her skin, his voice a seductive growl that makes her shiver. She does as he asks, her body trembling with anticipation as his fingers find their way between her thighs, teasing her over the thin fabric of her panties.

He’s relentless, his touch both gentle and commanding, his fingers sliding against her, feeling how wet she is for him. “Fuck, you’re soaked” he groans, his lips returning to hers in a bruising kiss. He pushes her panties aside, his fingers slipping between her folds, finding her clit with practiced ease.

She gasps, her hips bucking against his hand, a desperate moan escaping her lips. He chuckles darkly, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles, teasing her, driving her wild. “You like that, don’t you?” he purrs, his lips brushing against her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

“Yes” she breathes, her body arching into his touch, her hands clutching at his shoulders. “Please, Aemond… I need you…”

His eye darkens with lust, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Patience, love” he murmurs, his fingers slipping inside her, curling up to hit that sweet spot that makes her cry out in pleasure. “I’m going to make you feel so good… just relax and let me take care of you.”

She does as he says, her body surrendering to his touch, her mind lost in a haze of desire. His fingers work her expertly, building her up, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She feels the tension coiling in her belly, the heat building, her breath coming in ragged gasps as he takes her higher, higher…

And then she’s falling, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave, her body shaking with pleasure, her moans filling the small room. Aemond doesn’t stop, his fingers still moving inside her, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until she’s completely spent, her body trembling against him.

He pulls his fingers out slowly, bringing them to his lips, his gaze locked on hers as he licks them clean, a satisfied grin on his face. “You taste so fucking sweet” he growls, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing over her lips.

She leans into his touch, her breath still coming in shallow pants, her body still tingling from the intensity of her orgasm. “Aemond…” she whispers, her voice barely a breath, filled with longing.

He captures her lips in another searing kiss, his hand sliding up her thigh, pulling her closer. “Don’t worry, love” he murmurs against her mouth, his lips curving into a devilish smile. “We’re just getting started.”

And she knows, without a doubt, that she’s in for the ride of her life.

Aemond slides off her leather boots, starts a trail of kisses from her ankle to her knee, she arches her back and brings her hand to the zipper of her leather miniskirt. "Good girl" he praises her, she lifts her hips and slides the skirt down her legs. Aemond kisses her thighs, her skin so smooth and smelling of a strong woman's perfume maybe she's wearing "Poison" by Dior.

She gasps, his lips are so fucking devilish.

Aemond sits back down on the couch, she positions herself on his hips and starts to move slowly over the bulge in his pants. "If I'm a good girl, what are you?" she teases, then she reaches behind his bustier and pulls down the zipper. "My devil?" she throws her top on the floor, she's not wearing a bra. Aemond looks at her firm, round and full tits. She has a fucking piercing in her right nipple. "Is there something you like rockstar?"

She is only wearing her lace thong, he is still dressed. She notices the bulge in his pants and places her wetness right on top of it. She moves slowly and calculatedly, he is hard as a rock. Her breathing is heavy like an animal, her fingers dig into the couch cushion and he can feel her juices wetting the fly of his jeans.

"Mmmh" she moans rubbing herself on his covered cock. "Do you prefer my hands or my mouth on your cock?" she asks shamelessly. She moves her hands to his t-shirt and pulls it off revealing his toned and lean chest covered in a few black tattoos. Aemond is speechless, what seemed like such a good girl has actually turned out to be the devil.

"On your knees" he orders with heavy breathing. "Are you sure?" she asks. "I'm still wet thanks to you and your magic fingers" she whispers in his ear, kissing him just below. "But if you really want me to I'll kneel for you, rockstar"

She kneels between his legs, licks her lips and begins to undo his belt. She notices with pleasure that the fly of his pants is wet thanks to her, Aemond's erection is hard and aching. He raises his hips and allows her to pull down his jeans and boxers, revealing his big, hard, long cock, wet to the tip with pre-cum.

"Do girls who listen to your music turn you on that much?" she teases him looking at him. "Only if they are as evil as you" a smirk forms on her face. "Am I evil?" she murmurs taking his cock in her hands. "You don't know how much" she lowers her gaze and without shame she spits on his cock, lowers her head and licks it on his shaft. Aemond closes his eyes, barely feeling her lips around his cock. She takes it in her mouth, starts sucking it so hard that her cheeks go hollow, and keeps sucking it so hard that it touches the back of her throat.

That's probably the best blowjob of his life.

She sucks him devilishly and in the meantime she gets wet between her legs, the sensation of having to touch herself is too much. Aemond in her mouth is wonderful, he pants and moans, she is clearly sucking his soul out. "Good… good fucking girl" he whispers feeling close. He would like to come between those lips of hers, but at the same time dirty her with him. Aemond although immersed in pleasure, notices that she has a hand buried between her thighs and is torturing her clit.

She continues to suck, but he grabs her hair without hurting her and makes her look up. "You're touching yourself, aren't you, little brat?" Her eyes light up, her lips lick the tip of him and then up. "Do you think that your huge cock can fit in me?" she asks playfully, but Aemond grabs her and pins her to the couch. "Do you enjoy it?" he teases. "I used to enjoy sucking your cock, rockstar," he murmurs, his hands moving to the waistband of her thong. "But if I'm honest, I'd rather have your tongue between my thighs."

Aemond is aroused by the way she speaks: vulgar and direct, but sensual and provocative. He kneels in front of her, pulls off her soaking thong and spreads her legs, bringing them up to his shoulders. She arches her back, feels his fingers part her wet folds and shortly after his long tongue lick her slit. A pornographic moan escapes her lips, she starts playing with her nipple piercing while Aemond licks her between her thighs and goes deep with his tongue. His nose rubs against her clit, she moans, she is a mess of moans and sweat, her black makeup is running a little and she is so eager to be fucked by him.

"Aemond" she moans his name when she feels his tongue touching places where not even her fingers have ever reached. “Aemond” she repeats his name again, he grabs her by the thighs and luxuriates in that sweet, sticky taste, god, he can't wait to see her on top of him riding him.

Aemond adds his fingers, the pleasure is so much that she feels dizzy. His tongue, his fingers, her clit tortured repeatedly. Fuck, she feels so close to coming, but soon a strange feeling forms in her belly… it's strong, Aemond's movements are insistent, full of pleasure, her back arches, his face is buried in her things and soon she comes, but not like she has ever done before.

He pushes her higher and higher, pushes her closer and closer to the edge. She screams, her body contracting as her pussy squirts, the intense pleasure overwhelming her. She gasps, her body slick with sweat, her mind foggy with bliss. When she opens her eyes again, Aemond has two fingers between her lips.

"You're a devil, fuck the good girl" only she notices that he is wet from her face and chest. "You need to be fucked, huh?" he stands up, removes the last of her clothes from her body, leans down to kiss her in a dirty wet kiss with his tongue, she can taste him and then and Aemond sits on the couch. He grabs her by the hips and brings her on top of him.

"Mmmm, you like it don't you? Watching me take your cock" she whispers raising her hips and then slowly, she lets herself go down on him filling herself. "Fuck" she whispers feeling full. "You're so big" their hands intertwine, she knows how to do it: she moves, takes him, rides him. Her hands move to his chest, she scratches him, she grabs his hair to bring him closer to her lips and kisses him.

Aemond moans her name, he brings his hands to her breasts and between his lips he sucks her pierced nipple. "Fuck, fuck, fuck" he whispers feeling her pussy squeezing him deeper and deeper. She rides him, moving her hips, her pussy is hot, wet, tight. He wants to die in her.

"Look at me rockstar" she grabs his face and kisses him again, their kiss is a mess of tongue and saliva. "Ah" she moans feeling his cock hard almost all the way to her stomach. "Fuck, fuck" she pants, her nails digging into his back.

"My good boy" she pushes him against the sofa cushions, Aemond looks at her excitedly, fuck, this is so exciting. She rides him, her pussy buries his cock, her breasts move frantically, her skin is sweaty. She moans, he circles her hips with his hands and she comes around him again swallowing him.

Aemond is lost in pleasure, but he knows he can't come inside her. Reluctantly she realizes this and rises from his hips, looks at him and soon spits on his cock. She wraps her hand around him and lowers her head. She brings him between her lips and sucks him, over and over until he comes. Like a perfect bad good girl she swallows his seed and licks her lips. Aemond is breathless, she still naked grabs his pack of cigarettes from the table. "A cig?" she asks, placing a cigarette between her lipstick-smudged lips. "Y-yes" he murmurs with ragged breaths. She takes a drag, then passes him the cigarette.

"Listen Aemond…" she begins. "You're a rock band, do you have any groupies?" Aemond is confused and barely understands her words. "My…mates" she whispers, smoking, resting her head on the pillow. She moves closer to him, climbing into his arms. Skin against skin, it feels wonderful. Aemond puts an arm around her waist.

"What about you? Are you fucking them?" she asks boldly. "No," he replies. "It's the first rule of the group: each of us has his own"

"Great" she replies. "Because I just became yours" she gets up from his lap, shamelessly grabs her loincloth from the floor and puts it on. She turns to Aemond dressed only in it, her long curly hair making her beautiful and dangerous. "I'm bored here, I have no friends and I can play the guitar."

She grabs Aemond's shirt and puts it on, he puts a pillow on his hips covering his cock. "Do you play metal too?" she asks. "Do you like Black Sabbath?" Aemond asks. "Why do you ask?" she comes closer to him, sitting on the coffee table. "Before when you turned around… your tattoo on the small of your back" he replies. "The Paranoid tattoo, yeah..." she replies. "I would say so" Aemond comments. "Don't make fun of me, just because a song is famous doesn't mean it's bad" he takes the cigarette from his lips again.

"You are interesting" he admits honestly. "And that's why I noticed you" She raises an eyebrow. "Honored" she takes a drag of her cigarette. "And tell me rockstar, where is the next stop on the tour?" he asks. "The Riverlands" Aemond replies. She gets up from the coffee table. "Fuck yeah, that fucking bitch Alys Rivers is going to die of rage when she sees me" Aemond stops, fuck Alys was his ex-girlfriend. "She's a bitch, in high school she was a senior and she took it out on us freshmen" she replies.

"Do you know her?" he asks. "A bitch like that everyone knows" he looks at her. "What is it?" she asks. "She was my ex" Aemond admits. "But now you have me and fuck her" she whispers. "I'm beautiful, sexy, smart" her lips brush his. "And now the groupie of the most famous rock star in the world"

Aemond grabs her face with one hand. "Do you only care about my fame?" he asks, she denies. "If I only cared about your fame after I fucked you I would have left" she bites his lower lip. "I needed this, someone who understood my madness" she licks his lip.

"Fuck the rest, rockstar" she removes the pillow from above his hips. "Let's do another round" she kneels on him, moves her panties to the side and lets herself go on his cock, her hand tightens around Aemond's neck.

"A groupie love" she murmurs starting to move, kissing him passionately. "Strong, true and only yours" Aemond holds her in his arms.

"Only mine" Aemond let her consuming her.

That girl is the fucking demon he was looking for.

327 notes · View notes

slut4evanpeters · 24 days ago

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Bound By The Dark

Tate Langdon x Reader loosely based on Romeo and Juliet.

song i recommend listening to: living legend by lana del rey

warning: very angst, suicide, using medication to commit, romanticizing of death, tragic ending, themes of isolation, depression, emotional distress, do not read if ANY of these are triggers.

word count: 2.7k

notes: please read this with caution. if you are struggling with suicidal thoughts, please know that you are loved and supported. its never to late for help:)

The house had a history.

You learned that almost immediately after stepping foot inside the large, looming structure. It towered over the street, its cracked façade barely hidden behind sprawling vines and overgrown bushes. The real estate agent had brushed off any concerns you or your parents had, but there was a feeling. A thick, suffocating tension. That settled over the place, clinging to your skin like humidity. It smelled old, like mildew and stale air, and as soon as you crossed the threshold, you knew you didn’t want to be there.

But your family didn’t care about how it felt. They cared that the house was cheap, and that it was far larger than any other home you’d ever lived in. Your father said it was a “fresh start” for all of you. A new life in a new city. It was the kind of lie that parents told when they didn’t want to admit that things had been falling apart for a long time, and now this move was their last-ditch attempt to piece things back together.

But no matter how much you tried to embrace that optimism, you couldn’t shake the chill that seeped into your bones as you walked the long, winding halls of the house. Something was off, like the house was waiting for something, or maybe for someone.

The first few days were relatively uneventful. Boxes were unpacked, rooms were organized, and your parents seemed to settle in without much concern. Your room was large, with a window that looked out onto the overgrown backyard, where a twisted oak tree stood tall and crooked, like it had been there longer than the house itself.

But even in the bright light of the afternoon, the house felt wrong. Its walls creaked and groaned in the night as if it had a voice of its own. Sometimes, when you were alone, you could swear you heard footsteps echoing down the hallways, but when you looked, no one was there. The isolation was suffocating, and though you had tried to distract yourself with new schoolwork and social media, nothing could fill the growing void inside you.

It was late one evening when you first met him.

The rain had been pounding against your window, relentless and unyielding, when you decided to venture down to the basement. Your parents had explicitly warned you to stay away from it, but something about the basement called to you. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was fate.

The stairs groaned under your weight as you descended, the air growing colder with each step. The basement was dimly lit, the shadows casting strange shapes along the walls, and yet it felt strangely familiar. Like you had been there before, though you knew you hadn’t.

And then you saw him.

He was leaning against one of the brick walls, his blond curls falling into his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest. His clothes were simple, almost dated—a worn sweater and jeans that looked like they belonged to a different era. But it was his eyes that held your attention—dark, hollow, and full of something you couldn’t quite place.

“Hey,” he said softly, as if he’d been expecting you. His voice was calm, almost soothing, despite the eerie atmosphere of the basement.

You froze, unsure of what to do. This was your house—wasn’t it? Who was he? How had he gotten in?

“Who are you?” you asked, your voice steady but your heart racing in your chest.

He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Tate.”

“And what are you doing in my house?” you demanded, trying to sound braver than you felt.

Tate shrugged, pushing himself off the wall and stepping closer to you. “I live here.”

His words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. He lived here? That couldn’t be true—you and your family had just moved in. The house had been empty for years. Or at least, that’s what the real estate agent had said.

“No, you don’t,” you said, frowning. “We just moved in. No one’s lived here for years.”

Tate’s smile widened, though there was something almost sad about it. “Not in the way you think.”

There was something about the way he said it—so matter-of-fact, so final—that sent a chill down your spine. You opened your mouth to ask what he meant, but before you could, the lights flickered, plunging the basement into darkness for just a second. When the light returned, Tate was gone, leaving you standing alone in the cold, silent basement.

You tried asking your parents if they knew anything about the previous owners of the house, but they shrugged it off. “No one important,” your father had said, brushing past the question as if it didn’t matter. “Some old family. The house has been empty for a while.”

But you knew that wasn’t true. Tate had been there, and somehow, you felt like he had been there for a long time.

It wasn’t long before you saw him again. It was late at night, after your parents had gone to bed. You were restless, unable to sleep, so you wandered the house, hoping to quiet your thoughts. As you passed by one of the unused rooms on the second floor, you felt a strange pull, as if something—or someone—was calling you.

You pushed the door open, and there he was, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, his knees pulled up to his chest. He looked up as you entered, his dark eyes meeting yours.

“You came back,” he said softly, as if he had been waiting for you.

“I didn’t come back for you,” you said, though even as the words left your mouth, you knew they weren’t entirely true.

Tate smiled that sad, knowing smile again. “You don’t have to lie. Not to me.”

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond. There was something about him—something that drew you in, even though every instinct in your body told you to stay away. He was dangerous, you could feel it in your bones, but you couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to know him. You needed to understand him.

“Why are you here?” you asked, stepping further into the room.

Tate sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. “Because I can’t leave.”

“What do you mean?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if the weight of the answer was too much to bear. “I’m tied to this house. I’ve been here for a long time. Longer than you could imagine.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine. “Are you… are you dead?”

Tate’s eyes opened slowly, and when they met yours, they were filled with a sorrow so deep it took your breath away. “Yes.”

You weren’t sure how to process the fact that Tate was a ghost.

You wanted to deny it, to rationalize it, but the more you spoke with him, the more real it became. Tate had died a long time ago, but his spirit remained in the house, bound by some invisible force that kept him there.

At first, you were scared. You avoided the rooms where you had seen him, trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t real—that he wasn’t real. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were meant to know him. There was something about him, something tragic and beautiful, that pulled you in.

And so, slowly, you began to seek him out.

It became a routine: you’d wander the house late at night, knowing you’d find him waiting for you somewhere. Sometimes in the basement, sometimes in that forgotten room on the second floor. You’d talk for hours, sharing stories of your life, your dreams, your fears. And Tate, in return, told you about his.

He had been lonely for so long, trapped in the house with no one to talk to, no one to understand him. But with you, he felt alive again, even if just for a fleeting moment.

One night, as you sat together in the attic, Tate reached out and brushed his fingers against your cheek. His touch was cold, but it sent a warmth spreading through your chest, igniting something deep inside you.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered, his voice trembling with something you couldn’t quite place. “This house… it’s not safe.”

“I don’t care,” you said, your heart pounding in your chest. “I want to be with you.”

Tate’s eyes darkened, filled with a mix of desire and fear. “You don’t understand, Y/N. I’m dangerous. I’ve done things… horrible things.”

“I don’t care,” you repeated, your voice firm. “I love you.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and electric. Tate stared at you, his expression filled with shock and disbelief. “You… you love me?”

You nodded, your throat tight with emotion. “Yes, Tate. I do.”

For a moment, Tate didn’t say anything. Then, slowly, he leaned in and kissed you. His lips were cool against yours, but the kiss was filled with an intensity that took your breath away. It was desperate, almost frantic, as if he was afraid that if he let go, you’d disappear.

But you didn’t pull away. You kissed him back, pouring every ounce of your heart into that single, stolen moment.

When you finally broke apart, Tate rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “But we can’t… we can’t be together. Not like this.”

Despite Tate’s warnings, you couldn’t stay away from him.

Every night, you found yourself returning to him, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. And each night, your connection deepened. You could feel it—the way the house seemed to pulse with a dark energy, as if it knew you were falling in love with a ghost and was waiting for the inevitable fallout.

Your parents noticed the change in you, though they didn’t understand it. You spent less time with them, more time wandering the halls of the house, lost in your thoughts. They tried to talk to you about it, but you brushed them off, too consumed by your love for Tate to care about anything else.

“You’ve been acting strange,” your mother said one morning over breakfast, her brow furrowed with concern. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” you lied, though your heart felt heavy in your chest. How could you tell her the truth? How could you explain that you had fallen in love with someone who was dead?

But deep down, you knew it couldn’t last.

The house was getting to you. You could feel it in the way the walls seemed to close in on you, the way the air felt thicker, heavier. The longer you stayed, the more you realized that Tate had been right—it wasn’t safe. Not for you, not for anyone.

And yet, you couldn’t leave him. You loved him too much.

It was late one night when everything came crashing down.

You had been in the attic with Tate, your head resting on his shoulder as the two of you lay side by side. The house was quiet, the only sound the soft patter of rain against the roof.

“You know this can’t last, right?” Tate said suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stiffened, pulling away to look at him. “What do you mean?”

Tate’s eyes were filled with sadness as he reached out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re alive, Y/N. You have a life outside of this house. Outside of me.”

“I don’t want a life without you,” you said, your voice trembling. “I can’t leave you, Tate.”

“But you have to,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “You deserve to live. To be happy.”

Tears filled your eyes as you shook your head. “I don’t want to be happy without you.”

Tate closed his eyes, his expression pained. “I love you, Y/N. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. But this… it’s not fair to you.”

Before you could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed through the attic, followed by the creak of the door opening. You turned to see your father standing in the doorway, his face pale with shock.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice shaking. “Who are you talking to?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you realized that your father couldn’t see Tate. To him, you were sitting alone, talking to thin air.

“Dad, I can explain—” you started, but your father cut you off.

“We’re leaving,” he said, his voice firm. “This house… it’s doing something to you. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

“No!” you cried, standing up and taking a step toward him. “I’m not leaving! I can’t!”

But your father didn’t listen. He turned and walked away, leaving you standing in the attic with tears streaming down your face.

Deep down, knew that without Tate, you’d be better off in the gutter. His presence was the only thing tethering you to the mess that had become your life, but it wasn’t enough to pull you out. That night, everything seemed so much clearer.

You made the decision.

Racing from the attic into your bedroom, your heart pounded in your chest. It wasn’t panic, but a strange kind of calm, like you had finally figured out the answer to a question that had haunted you for your time loving Tate. You went straight to the nightstand, hands trembling as you yanked open the top drawer. Buried in the back, behind half-empty tubes of lip balm and loose change, was the small box of paracetamol. You had kept it there in case of a fever, but that wasn’t why you reached for it now.

Sitting on your bed, the stillness of the room pressed in around you. One by one, you popped each pill from its foiled tray, their edges cutting slightly into your fingertips. You placed each one on your tongue, swallowing them dry, your throat burning as the bitter taste clung to the back of your mouth.

Once the last pill was gone, you sank back against the pillows, feeling the cool fabric cradling your head. A faint tune drifted through the air, a song you couldn’t quite place but one that felt familiar, almost comforting. Your vision started to blur, your head spinning gently, and your eyelids grew heavy. For a fleeting moment, you thought you felt Tate’s presence, like a shadow hovering beside you, but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t try to stop you.

The world slipped away.

When you opened your eyes, everything had changed. You crawled out of bed, your limbs feeling light and weightless, but when you turned to look, your breath caught in your throat. There you were, your body, lying perfectly still on the bed. Peaceful. Almost as if you had simply fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep.

For a moment, you stood frozen, staring at yourself, trying to make sense of what had just happened. There was no pain, no fear. Just a strange sense of detachment, like watching a scene play out in a movie.

Then, from over your shoulder, you heard it. A whisper.

“I told you death was painless.” Tate’s voice, low and familiar, curled around you like smoke. You turned to find him standing there, the ghost of a smirk on his lips, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite read. “You didn’t need saving, after all.”

You looked back at your body one last time, then turned to face him fully. Maybe he was right—maybe you didn’t need saving. But the decision had already been made, and now there was no going back.

Hand in hand with Tate, you walked into the darkness together, the world you had known fading away behind you.

In the end, your love story was not one of happiness or hope. It was a tragedy, a tale of two souls bound by love.

Tate was your Romeo, and you his Juliet.

#tate langdon oneshot #tate langdon imagine #tate x reader #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon #tate langdon angst #evan peters #evan peters imagine #evan peters oneshot #evan peters angst #evan peters x reader #american horror story #ahs murder house #ahs murder house oneshot

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inklore · 1 year ago

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🩸 — 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍!

since the spooky season is fast approaching, and as a little kinktober appetizer, @psychedelic-ink and i have decided to do a little writing challenge to get us all excited and in the mood to be gripping the sheets from the spooky thrills of course.

and to keep this fun we have given you many many options! we have compiled a twelve day prompts list you can go by, or if that's not your thing we have listed twenty three different pick and choose options to create whatever kind of fic you want, even if you want to do half the days daily prompts but switch out this prompt dialogue for that au or trope or kink, you can literally do whatever your heart desires!

THE RULES.

the challenge will go on from the 19th - 30th of this month. you can do as many or as little amount of days as you choose.

any fandoms are welcome, literally any characters, ships, but please no rpf.

no minors should be interacting with let alone posting for this challenge.

dark content, light content, dubcon/noncon, is all welcomed but please tag everything accordingly. grooming, underage, and incest however are not allowed.

there are no word limits but please use that readmore.

tag #hauntedhoedown so we can read and reblog your work!

DAY ONE: taboo au + "i'll be your dirty little secret, if that's what you're into."

DAY TWO: murder plot au (lets kill this person together) + "crawl to me"

DAY THREE: inspired by your favorite lana del rey song (if not a lana fan then any fav song of yours) + stalker / yandere au or love triangle gone wrong

DAY FOUR: artificial intelligence au + "here, you are. you tiny thing."

DAY FIVE: gothic au + “worship me. until i tell you to stop.” + a masquerade au or a good ol' priest au

DAY SIX: animal shapeshifter au + "he's a monster" + "he's perfect"

DAY SEVEN: stranded au or slasher / summer camp au + sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)

DAY EIGHT: cosmic horror au + "you're a fucking nightmare. kiss me."

DAY NINE: “do you like it when i bleed for you?” + the toxic exes trope or cult au

DAY TEN: zombie apocalypse au + "every moment might be our last, let's make the most of it."

DAY ELEVEN: black swan au or inspired by your fav psychological thriller + “they die for love, you kill for it.”

DAY TWELVE: vampire court au + "forever isn't long enough for me to forgive you."

if following the above isn't your thing and you want to pick and choose yourself that's great! we also highly rec this random generator if you wanna live life by the edge, each category has 23 options to pick and choose from so customize the generator accordingly!

AUs:

steampunk / cyber punk

fairytale retelling

revenge

mythology / monster

virtual reality

gothic

taboo (see great options here)

slasher

game gone wrong

witchcraft

addams family

bonnie and clyde

spy / secret agent

assassins

x-files

circus / carnival

hitch hiking

basement wife

time travel

urban legend(s)

american horror story inspired

vampire / supernatural

pirate / mermaid

DIALOGUE PROMPTS:

"do you like when i touch you like this? i can keep going if you want me to."

"i can see how badly you want this, so i'm going to make sure you get it."

“this fear you feel? it won't last.”

“you are mine, whether you agree or not.”

“why do you keep following me?”

"i can't stop thinking about how perfect we would be together."

"you're not actually scared are you? of me?"

"i'm so close, can you feel it?"

"tell me what you want me to do and i'll do it, no matter the cost."

"you're like a sickness, a disease, and the only way for me to be cured of you is to let you completely consume me until my body has no fight left."

"i want to see you bleed."

"they're dead...because of you."

“i will keep hurting. i will keep killing. anything to protect you.”

“everything i've done.. every horrible atrocity, it's been for you.”

"it's just a little blood."

“don't you know how sick with love i am for you?”

“i would burn the world for you.”

"this is so fucked up." "you like it."

"finders keepers."

"what's your favorite scary movie?"

"tell me you want me back. tell me i'm forgiven."

"you're a monster." "that's never stopped you before."

"i've killed for you, who else can say that?"

TROPES:

mob / mafia

soft!dark

dubcon / noncon

soulmate / fated mates

mind control / telepathy

cheating

final girl

once is not enough

haunted manor

dark academia

enemies to lovers

haunted object

vengeful ghost

coven

ritual / sacrifice / blood magic

unrequited love

creation / creator vs monster

'i'll find you in every universe / century'

reverse harem

cursed / fuck or die

curiosity killed the cat

theatre phantom

fate worse than death

KINKS:

biting

corruption / authoritarian

somnophilia

begging

dacryphilia

breath play

knife play / blood play

jealousy / sharing / possessive

aphrodisiacs

hunter / prey

humiliation / degradation

mirror sex

deprivation / immobilized / bondage

costume

size

orgasm denial / overstimulation / edging

body worship

shotgunning / swallowing / facial

gagging

torture / surrender

hate sex / make up sex / phone sex

magical healing [redacted]

soft!dom / pleasure!dom

ETC PROMPTS:

a summer fling gone horrible wrong, or right

1970s porno filming (turned into a blood bath)

touch her and die except who the hell are you and why are you obsessed with me?

a trip to the circus (or carnival) ends with you stuck there...forever

you just inherited this creepy mansion where people where murdered what could go wrong?

a ritual gone wrong and now i'm bound to a demon

if 'this person' ever found out about this they would kill both of us (literally)

oh no i'm dating the town serial killer

passionate professor tells me to prove my devotion to the craft / class by doing something insane

we're the last people on the planet and you will be mine

daydreaming about being with you is better than actually being with you because i missed all the red flags and now it's too late

i got casted out of my world and ended up wounded and bloodied in your backyard, convince me why i shouldn't destroy your world out of anger

vampire has a taste for specific blood and looks like you have it

the creepy neighbor is too hot to be insane, right?

i keep seeing them in my dreams and i wake up with bruises and marks on my skin, it's definitely just wild dreams, right?

loving you is easier than hating you

got stranded in some little town that seems so cute, until night hits

'this person' ordered me to kill you but i actually think i'm in love with you

my lover is wearing the same costume as you and i can't tell the difference but i'm pretty sure it's them i'm fucking in this closet...pretty sure

confessing to a murder via a silly little ghost story around a campfire (but someone reads through the lies)

how far would you go for love? for the one you love?

in a past life you were the cause of my death so i'm here to exact revenge now that i've found you

we're at a fun little horror movie reenactment except people are really dying

we tried to make this writing challenge as fun and very 'choose your own adventure-like' as much as possible because we know how hard it is to stay motivated when doing these things.

so please feel free to use any and all of the prompts, tropes, kinks, etc as you wish. we're just super excited to see what ya'll come up with!!

so good luck and stay slutty spooky <3

#if yall don't participate in this i will actually cry lmao #haunted hoedown #writing challenge #kinktober #! challenges

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