#mellorocket | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mxnsterbabe · 4 years ago

Text

Jakoby x Reader

Male Dullahan/Nonbinary Reader NSFW Wordcount: 3,162 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

Commission for @mellorocket! Enjoy~

You were drunk. Fair and simply, you'd had too much to drink at the Halloween fare - and the after party at your friend's house - and now it was time to pay the price. You're mind was foggy, head swirling whenever you turned, and the darkness of the late night was giving you a headache.

A breeze rustled the air, making you shiver. It was after midnight and here you were, hovering outside the long-abandoned farm on the edge of town. Why? Because Safiya - the idiot you called a best friend - thought the place was haunted. As a fan of the occult, she had decided Halloween was the perfect night to explore. You thought it was stupid, but knew to hold your tongue.

"It's freezing," Milo complained, breathing into his hands. Considering he wasn't wearing much more than a tank top, you didn't blame him. Unlike the rest of your friends he hadn't even dressed up, and he seemed to be enjoying this little adventure about as much as he liked costume parties.

"Don't be such a baby," Safiya chided, "and help me get this gate open. It's all rusted up." With one leg planted firmly on the ground and the other hooked around the fence, she gave the old metal gate another yank. Nothing.

"Just hop over."

"In this dress?" Safiya gestured to her Halloween costume - Princess Leia in a long white dress, her dark hijab tied like buns. "I'd break my neck."

"Well I can't help, I busted my shoulder playing hockey last week."

They both turned to you, brows raised and wearing matching grins. Uh oh. Even through the haze of your half-drunken stupor, you knew was came next. Before they even had the chance to reply you raised your hands in defeat - only for wooziness to overtake as you stumbled back. "Let me guess," you replied nervously, "I have to go in alone."

"You're the only one that can climb the fence," Milo replied with a wicked grin. They knew you hated the dark; that you'd left your phone at Safiya's and could hardly walk in these damn red heels. None of those made good for trekking across a farm, but Milo didn't seem to care.

Safiya rocked on her heels, positively beaming. "Just peek your head into the old house, explore a little, and come back. Please?"

Nerves rolled in your stomach - or maybe it was the vodka. Either way, nausea rose and you swallowed thickly. "Come on, I'm not going in there alone?"

"What, do you think a ghost will get you?"

Snorting, you shook your head - and oh, that made everything spin. Cringing, you grabbed onto the cold metal fence to steady your wobbling legs. "Ghosts aren't real," you murmured not to convincingly, "but what if it's dangerous? I could fall in the dark or get the door stuck and trap myself-"

"Hon," Safiya assured, resting a freckled hand on your shoulder, "you'll be fine. Half an hour, tops, and then you come right back. Here, I'll even give you my phone so you can call Milo if anything happens." She held it out expectantly.

Already, you knew you'd lost. Fear spiked as you shoved Safiya's phone deep in your cloak pocket, turning your gaze toward the old farmhouse. You must have looked ridiculous, wearing a black dress and bright red cape reminiscent of red riding hood. Right now, you felt very much like you were about to find yourself in a wolf's den.

What could go wrong? you asked yourself, not wanting to know the answer.

Milo helped you vault over the fence, your feet landing unsteadily on hard-packed ground. At least it wasn't muddy, so your heels didn't sink in. He gave you a winning smile, a cheesy thumbs up, and said, "go photograph us some ghosts."

You wanted to kill him, but he was too far away now. Scowling, you spun on your heel and stalked toward the farmhouse. The dull pounding of the headache didn't help the sour mood, and with each unsteady step you felt it pinch your temples. Go in. Take a few shitty photos with Safiya's phone. Get out. That was all you had to do.

Easier said than done, because with each stride the inky black silhouette of the house got closer and closer. You saw the porch now, rotted and twisted with age. The old swinging chair with moth eaten cushions. The front door, open on its hinges.

Yeah, you thought with a twist of your gut, nothing ominous here.

The warped planks of the porch creaked under your weight as you tentatively put your feet on the first step. Every tiny movement had it shrieking, shattering the stillness of the night. Half expecting it to buckle beneath you, you cautiously inched toward the door. Somehow the wood held, because nothing snapped to send you hurtling downward. Letting out a breath, you felt some of the tension ease.

That lasted about as long as it took to slip inside. The door scraped along the ground, like nails on chalkboard, and a rush of dust and mildew assaulted your nose. Choking, you slapped a hand across your face, eyes watering. Disgusting. As far as you knew the place had never been nice, and the old farmer that lived here never took care of his property. Yet to look at it now, all busted and covered in grime, it was a wonder anyone ever lived here at all.

A noise upstairs. At first you imagined rats scurrying across the floor, crawling over each other, and shuddered. Then you heard it again, closer, and realised that the rhythmic creaking of stairs sounded like footsteps. Your chest thrummed with anxiety as you tiptoed back, but at some point the door had swung closed and you couldn't find the handle-

There was a shadow at the bottom of the stairs. Bone-thin and gangly, with a misshapen head that looked too round, and you couldn't even make out the facial features-

"A visitor? I haven't had one of those in quite some time."

"Uh-" Words. What were they again? As you struggled to think of what to say the strangers moved closer, his stick-thin body swimming into view. Any words you might have had stuck in your throat, hands beginning to sweat as your panic rose. You stumbled back; he stepped forward. Before you knew it, your back was pressed against the cold, damp wall.

Then he stepped into the soft glow of the nearby window, illuminated by the moon, and you gasped. Dressed in a patchwork of clothes made from other outfits, poorly stitched together and falling apart, he looked like some Frankenstein mockery of a scarecrow. Your gaze travelled up, seeing pale, scarred skin through the gaps in his clothing, the dirty jacket hanging from his narrow shoulders, before coming to rest on his face. Except for one thing; he didn't have a face. Or a head at all. Above his shoulders sat an orange pumpkin the colour of sunset, with only a gash for lips and two hollowed out eyes. Within the depths of those hollows, to yellow points glowed.

You were imagining things. Had to be. Yet you knew no amount of alcohol could have made you dream this up.

His face never changed, but for some bizarre reason you thought he was smiling. The golden spheres glimmered within his eye sockets. "What brings a sweet girl like you here on Halloween?"

"I'm not a girl, I'm nonbinary," you blurted. Reflex. Shit, why had you said that? Eyes wide and heart hammering, you ducked your head. "I mean, uh, I'm sorry-"

A laugh rumbled deep in his throat, and his yellow eyes brightened. "Hm. It's been so long since I've had a visitor, it seems I've lost my manners. Well, love, what shall I call you?"

Somehow, despite the way his impassive 'face' stared at you, you managed to relax. If this creature... person?.. had wanted to hurt you, he could have done it by now. God knew what a creature like him was capable of, yet all he had done was ask you a question. Stammering out your name, you forced yourself to breathe. It didn't come easily.

Again, the impression of a smile. Or a smirk. "What a lovely name. You can call me Jakoby." He leaned in close, so close you could feel the heat from his body. Yet you didn't feel breath against your neck, couldn't feel the rise and fall of his chest. Was he even alive?

"Wh-what are you-"

"I don't get visitors often," he rumbled, and the huskiness of his tone sent a different kind of shiver down your spine, "I might not let you leave. Unless, of course, you can give me something in return? Some kind of treat?"

Treat? The absurdity of the situation struck you, but with the overbearing heat of him pressed against you, the musky scent of hay filling your senses, you couldn't truly comprehend it. "I don't have anything on me," you stammered, "I'm sorry."

Jakoby - and it was strange thinking of that creature by name - pulled away. His absence left you cold, and you tugged the cloak closer around your shoulders. Stupid skirt and stockings, stupid farmhouse, stupid-

"Then I suppose you can give me a different kind of treat."

Wait, what? Your eyes darted up, realising for the first time how tall he really was. Those dark eyes glimmered, the gold flickering like tiny flames. Heat coiled in your stomach, heart fluttering at the sight. There was something so... beautiful about him. Something you couldn't place and didn't even want to think about, yet here you were.

"What kind of treat?"

His laugh was deep and mellow, but his strange gouged out mouth never moved. "I think you know just what kind I mean."

Oh. Your pulse spiked, but no longer from fear. Instead, that growing heat inside you only deepened and you had to clench your thighs to fight it down. It only made it worse, sending prickles throughout your entire body.

"Of course, if you'd rather not I understand-"

"No, I want to," you interrupted, shocked by your own boldness. Yet when those golden eyes locked with yours, it was impossible to deny what you wanted. They blazed bright, intent clear, and it took all of your self-control not to pounce on him right there. This wasn't like you, not at all, but you couldn't deny the growing need.

If Jakoby had been capable of grinning, you were sure he would have. "Well then," he murmured, "lucky me." Then wiry arms were pinning you to the wall, deceptively strong despite how frail he looked, his strange pumpkin face only inches from yours. The depths of his hollow eyes were endless, perfectly black save for the two golden pinpricks. They didn't cast any light across his face even though they glowed in the darkness.

Before you knew what you were doing, you were kissing him. It shouldn't have worked, not with his sliced mouth and hard skin, but it did. What started out slow and steady only became deeper, heavier. He was burning, hotter than any normal human and you felt it even through the thin fabric of your dress. Bony hands found your hair, shoving down your hood to dig blunt fingernails into your scalp. You gasped, mouth parting - and Jakoby took the chance to slip his tongue between your lips. Perhaps he couldn't kiss you as a human might have but oh, he knew what he was doing with that tongue.

It was wonderful. The last of your fear dissipated as he grabbed your ass, hoisting you up with ease. Automatically your legs wrapped around his hips, heart stuttering - but he never dropped you. He was inhumanely strong, and you found that knowledge sent goosebumps of pleasure down your arms.

There was something nudging at the inside of your thigh, too, and a sudden thought spurred your mind. "Can you even-"

"I have all the anatomy of a human," Jakoby assured, "even if I'm not one."

You locked lips once more - well, kind of, but the strangeness of it became less and less relevant with every passing second. The murkiness of your drunkenness had dissipated - only to be replaced with the fuzzy, lust-drunk feeling of need. Your thighs squeezed around his hips, electricity sparking across every inch of skin, and before you knew it you were reaching up to wriggle out of your cloak. Seconds later you were struggling with the dress. "Help me out, would you?" you demanded with shaky breath.

"Gladly." You parted long enough for Jakoby to reach around you with slender fingers, unzipping the back of your dress so you could shimmy out. Your skin was set alight with every hungry touch, hands reaching out to grapple with his patchwork shirt. "You first," he chided, and one golden eye flickered like a wink.

It wasn't until the chill of the abandoned old house hit you, that you realised what you were doing. Here you were, half naked in front of a monstrous stranger, acting like this was the most ordinary thing in the world. Doubt sparked as he shoved you back against the wall - but when Jakoby trailed his hands down your skin it was as if he wanted to commit you to memory, and all you could think about was how much you needed to do the same to him.

When he unhooked the back of your bra, you didn't stop him. His hand was hot as they cupped your breasts, nails skimming across he surface of your skin. "Beautiful," he murmured, and although his expression never changed, your stomach lurched with desire.

"I'm not that great," you murmured - but then Jakoby shushed you with a skinny finger pressed to your lips, the other still hooked beneath your ass.

"You're perfect."

Face flushed, you let your gaze drop to his chest. "You're still clothed," you murmured, stomach fluttering, "let's change that."

Piece by piece, Jakoby's body was revealed to you. Thighs clenched, heart pounding in your ears, anticipation rose. All you wanted was to tear them away, but this deserved to be savoured. His shirt went first, tossed aside without care. It revealed a thin torso of greying skin, arms roped with lanky muscle. You saw the shift and twist of his ribs with every movement and it sent a spark low in your abdomen.

You weren't the only one that was aroused, because when you reached out to touch him, Jakoby's dick pulsed against your thigh.

By the time he had wriggled out of his trousers - still holding you against the wall with one strong arm - you were both panting. Sweating. Desperate hands reached for each other, tearing away the last of the barriers between you. Somehow his skin was even hotter, a little leathery against your own, but it only served to make you moan as he pressed ever closer.

"Are we really going to - here?"

A low chuckle emitted from his throat. You saw the bob of his Adam's apple, the flex of his collar bones, and it only made your need for him grow. "Why not here?"

And sure, he had a point, so without another word you kissed him once more. It would never stop being strange, his hard skin and expressionless mouth against your own soft lips - but oh hell, you didn't care. You needed him, right now, hands grabbing at every available inch of skin.

There was no fanfare as he slipped inside of you. No warning, either, and you let out a gasp as he filled you up. He was big, inching inside bit by bit, his low laughter rumbling against your chest. You were burning up, desperate for more as you clung to him. It took all of your concentration to cling to him, supported only by the wall and his arms.

Jakoby grunted as he pushed inside you, and in the darkness that gash of a mouth looked like a grin. Hands gripped hard enough to bruise, his strange body glistening with sweat, and you'd never seen something so strange yet so beautiful.

Then he started grinding you against the wall, hips pumping, and all coherent thought fled your mind. He felt so good, wonderful, better than anything you could have imagined. You might have called his name as he pounded you against the ancient wall, but the sounds were so distant, as if nothing was really there. Nothing except him.

You wouldn't last. You knew that as your hands gripped his arms, as you listened distractedly to his rythmic grunts mingling with your own muffled cries. Your whole body had been set alight, burning right to your core, and with every expert thrust you found yourself unravelling.

In mere minutes you reached climax - a gasp as you called his name again, vision sparking, followed by a sigh as your iron grip around his hips relaxed. You were sweating, hair a mess and breath heaving as you collapsed against him.

He wasn't far behind, his golden eyes flickering, filling up his entire eye socket as he let out one last, final grunt. At the very last second he pulled out, trickling down the inside of your thighs, and you found yourself wishing he had finished inside of you. A heavy breath escaped him - and through the haze you realised it was the first time you had heard him breathe. Was it a choice?

"Good?" you asked coyly, wiping damp hair from your eyes.

"Perfect," he replied. Gently he set you down - your feet met the cold floor, and you shuddered. "Here." Draping the cloak around your shoulders, he ducked down for one of those makeshift kisses. "Did you enjoy yourself, love?"

Love. Before, it had just been a pet name. Now, it made your stomach flutter all over again. You still couldn't form words, so you simply nodded.

"It's a shame, you know, that I'm only around a few days a year. I'm a dullahan you see, which means I'm busy-"

"Collecting souls of the dead," you finished quietly. You knew the stories, but that's all they had ever been. Yet you could barely stand, legs like jelly, and your brain was a haze of post-sex elation. You didn't want to ruin it with questions.

"Well, there's always next Halloween," Jakoby mused. The moonlight shone across his skin from the shattered window; he was all wiry muscle and bones, but there was something so ethereally beautiful about him.

"I'll come back next year," you answered with thought, "next Halloween, I'll visit again."

He couldn't smile, but in that moment you sensed the happiness radiating from him. "Good." He leaned down, swiping a hand across your collarbone before planting a kiss there. "I'm sure there will be plenty of future treats in store for us."

#exophilia #exophilia fiction #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster romance #mellorocket #tag: mxnb #tag: dullahan #tag: male monster #tag: nonbinary reader #tag: not sfw #tag: lgbtqia

220 notes · View notes