#right in time for halloween first ey

[grif-hawaiian-rolls]

something about trust

Writing below the cut!

“How… does it feel?” Locus asked haltingly. Lopez shrugged. “<Weird. But I expected that.>” Locus hummed, his brow furrowed like he was lost in thought as he scanned Lopez’s face. Lopez grabbed Locus’ wrists, bringing his hands to his throat.  “What are you--?” “<One way to test it. Take my head off.>” Locus’ eyes widened, his expression turning panicked. He tried to pull his hands away, but Lopez held him steady. “<You are the only person strong enough,>” Lopez said firmly, giving the other no room to balk any further. “<If this synthskin doesn’t fix the problem, I want to know now, not later.>” Lopez could feel the way Locus’s hands shifted, his fingers flexing as he fought some internal debate. Lopez couldn’t read his mind, but the flicker of those marble grey eyes was telling as Locus looked at his hands around Lopez’s throat, then to his face and then back again and again. “<It doesn’t hurt, if that’s what all this fuss is about.>” Not strictly true, having his head removed wasn’t exactly a pleasant feeling. But better to do it now, with some degree of control, than in the middle of a fight or an accident. The sensation of feeling everywhere his skin touched was strange though, the normally very localized sensors spread out across the surface of the synthskin. Was this how humans felt things all the time? No wonder they were so easily distracted. Neither of them moved. “You’re certain?” Locus asked finally, his voice little more than a whisper. Lopez raised an eyebrow and let himself grin just a little at being able to convey the sentiment properly. Maybe there were some advantages to the synthskin after all. “<I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t.>” A nod, then the pressure. Lopez knew Locus was strong, for a human, but the feeling of his hands tightening around his neck and pulling at his jaw, the base of his metal skull…  His head didn’t budge, and the pressure eased. Lopez clicked his tongue, releasing Locus’ wrists. “<Good. That is one problem fixed, at least.>”

[polarisbibliotheque]

Devil May Halloween - The Samhain Ritual - Dante's Path

Devil May Halloween 2023 - The Samhain Ritual, Dante's Path

Pairing: Dante x Reader Summary: It’s finally Halloween and, even if the demons are a lot more active this time of the year, that doesn’t stop you from going on hunts - the partying can be done later. Or… At least that was what you thought. Maybe Nero had pretty good reasons to worry about that job after all. Author's Notes: Fucking. Finally. It took forever, but here I have around 20 pages of a demon wanting to marry the reader and Dante going feral over it. Took me ALL THIS TIME to write and I do apologize, but SO MUCH has happened since October, I'm finally managing to get my life back on track. So heeeeeey, here we have Dante's part of the Halloween Special for 2023! Be sure to read the Prologue first to understand the road so far yes Supernatural fan right here and have fun!! But I do have to thank @furyeclipse - the idea came from an ask sent a thousand years ago and I've been reading her works on ao3 and that motivated™ me to write again! Be sure to check Fury's work over there!

Oh. And I highly recommend an AC/DC playlist while reading this. Just sayin'. We all know Dante is an AC/DC guy

Devil May Halloween 2023 – Dante’s Path

“You know, of all the things that could have happened to me as a hunter, getting into a forced marriage with a demon lord was the very last one I would’ve imagined.”

And you were definitely the only person in the world that could have made Kyrie laugh in a moment like that – at least, that was what she thought as she smiled for the first time since you both had stepped in that place.

It was desecrated ground, that was the reason why the demons chose such a place. An old cathedral, now turned into an abandoned set of ruins with a cemetery of forgotten souls in the back. Some stone walls still stood tall, but the roof was gone, along with some windows and part of its gothic architecture. The shroud of the darkest tones of night slowly crept over, having rows and sets of candles of all sizes as the only source of light beside the moon.

You and Kyrie were being kept in a secured room – the only with still four walls to hold you in, and a heavy set of crumbling wooden doors. You were handed wedding attires – white, as to demonstrate the purity of your human souls compared to demons – and shoved in there, forced to change before the ritual.

You tried to resist, but as soon as they threatened Kyrie, you had to abide. There was nothing you could do: you had promised Nero nothing would happen to her, and she was your weak spot that night.

“We will figure something out…” Kyrie murmured with a ghost of a smile on her soft lips, even if she didn’t carry too much hope in her heart. She knew that if you were alone, you would probably be fist-fighting demons with all your might to drag yourself out of that place, but with her by your side… She had never seen you so compliant.

“Hmmm. Yeah. I’m still trying to think of something.” You huffed, sitting by her side on a stone loveseat, having your elbows on your knees and your face cradled by your hands. “I feel naked without my stuff. So uncomfortable.”

Once again, Kyrie giggled. Indeed, it was probably the first time she ever saw you without your everyday clothes and specially without your weapons: be it your guns, your sword or even a pocketknife you carried around for emergency self-defense. She could only imagine how stripped you felt at that moment.

“Well, if it serves as consolation, this is definitely not my style.” She whispered in response, making you laugh immediately. Indeed, poor Kyrie looked like a princess covered in Chantilly. Too over-the-top for her, and you could say the same about your forced attire.

“Oh, what a mess we got ourselves into this time, huh…?” You still had that laugh in your lips, making Kyrie respond with a sad smile. “Though I bet Nero is going to die seeing you dressed as a bride.”

“He will never admit it.” Kyrie had to giggle with that mental image. She could almost see Nero standing in front of her, red as a tomato, stuttering while trying to maintain that nonchalant punk attitude he always tried to – even if Kyrie could easily see through all of that. “He does get all flustered whenever I’m wearing anything slightly bridal looking.”

“There you go. The hideous Chantilly wedding dress will have at least one good effect after all.” You sighed with a laugh, following Kyrie on her giggles as she blushed herself, happy to imagine that.

The moment wouldn’t last long, though, as you felt something shifting in the air. You immediately got up on your feet, keeping Kyrie safe and sound behind you. Her curious, scared eyes tried to pick up what was going on, but neither of you could see – you could just feel it.

With some fiery sparkles, one of the demons responsible for that mess materialized right in front of you.

“Well, well. It is good to see you are already prepared.” Horns and sharp features, but in the suit of a ruthless man – that was the best way you could describe the demon lords. They had the leathery wings, skin as rough as that of a lizard, eyes bright like flames in the dark – but something still carried the resemblance of a human being. They were tall – even taller than most doors – with sharp nails to be used as claws, fangs ready to tear throats apart. But they were built in the image of humans: something quite rare when it came to demons.

“Not out of our own free will – you shouldn’t be that pleased your minions managed to coerce us into these horrid things.” You pointed at your own attire, making Kyrie look up at you with tense eyes.

It was something she admired, to say the least. You could all look in the face of the most threatening of creatures and still manage to say something to taunt or belittle them. She wished she had that kind of courage.

“You do have a point, human.” The demon had a quick giggle in his voice, making you furrow your eyebrows slightly. It wasn’t every day one of those things would agree with your big mouth. “Come. I would very much like to speak with you.”

*

Oh. Demons and their teleportation shenanigans – to be quite honest, you hated it. Whenever you used any of their magic or even Vergil’s void thing from the Yamato, you always felt a little dizzy afterwards. It took you some quick seconds to make sense you were in what seemed to be the abandoned church’s library – in a room made of stones and rotten books, lit by decrepit candles and having just one usable table in a corner. The demon lords had clearly made that their own room for the day.

“It’s rare a demon wishes to talk.” You finally managed to say while the demon lord slowly walked towards his desk, having you in the middle of the room. Now Kyrie was alone and you had no idea what was going on with her – you had to play your cards well to see her alive again. “According to my experience, your kind prefers a bloodier approach.”

“I take it you haven’t met many demon lords then.” He had a nonchalant tone, waving his hand in disregard as he approached his desk and leaned into it, staring at you. “Nevertheless, that is more Orcus’ style.”

“Your little friend.”

“Al Pacino did play the devil once, didn’t he…?” The demon laughed in response and you did your best to cover up the shock that he understood your Scarface reference.

Movies and pop culture references with Dante were a given – the same way Vergil was an encyclopedia of forgotten and obscure texts, Dante was the go-to man when it came to movies, especially the classic ones. Making references and laughing with each other was something both of you cherished wholeheartedly – and you never thought a demon would get it.

Vergil never did – and he had to have spent some time with those guys in the last decades.

“Well, I don’t think you brought me down here just to talk about movies.” You crossed your arms, trying as much as you could to look tough in that attire. Which wasn’t going very well for you. “And it certainly wasn’t to properly ask for my hand in marriage.”

“Oh, no, no…” He answered with a laugh that crackled like fire – and you could easily see the amusement in his eyes. “I wanted to see what the son of Sparda saw in you… To bind himself to one of the weakest creatures known. Just like his father before him.”

“It’s not like Dante has married me, you know? We’re not like Eva and Sparda.” You raised one of your eyebrows. Something about that conversation was very… Weird. To put it mildly. “We’re not bonded like you want to do today. And on that note, I have to point out: marriages are quite religious. Aren’t you guys going to combust spontaneously trying to do something holy?”

“Oh, but you are bonded. He may not have chosen his father’s path, but his heart does not lie.” The demon had something quite mischievous in his eyes, and you were starting to notice the difference between him and Orcus: the second one was more of a brute, a lord of war so to speak – the one you were talking to, Erlach, was very cunning; but there was a glint of bloodthirstiness in the back of his eyes. That made him even more dangerous than you gave him credit for at first. “I shall never understand why Sparda did not wish to follow the ritual with his human. That would have made him so powerful, not even the most dangerous creatures in Hell would have dared to slaughter his family. A shame really.” He tossed aside a charred painting of Sparda and Eva: old, barely holding itself together, but still clearly depicting the couple holding hands and smiling to whoever decided to look upon them. “We do have our own rituals – and demons are no strangers to marriages. It has another name in Hell, though, it is a binding ritual: where souls connect and one can be made more from the other’s power.”

“Oh. So the other just accepts it’s going to be a puny little thing beside their partner? Sounds more like slavery to me.” You wouldn’t give the demon the benefit of the doubt nor make it all sound so wonderful. Anything related to devils always had a catch – and that had to be the catch to their own twisted version of a ‘marriage’.

And in all honesty, you weren’t looking forward to be made a slave to a demon lord.

“Some creatures enjoy that.” And the smile that covered Erlach’s lips could be only considered devilish. You did your best not to look like you were agreeing – even if you knew, deep down, that yes, some people did enjoy that. “Every con has its pro. With the binding and forfeit of power, comes protection and status. Few would want to desecrate the partner of a powerful demon – it could easily be the last thing they would do.”

“if I am bonded to Dante, then, I wonder why would someone like you decide to mess with the chosen partner of the son of Sparda.” Now you had a small smile hidden in the corner of your lips, slightly raising your head in hubris. You wouldn’t lie: the status you got from him among demons was always very welcome. “Not that I really need him to help me. If I had my weapons, you would all be laying on the floor in a pool of your own blood – and I’d be home celebrating Halloween with him.”

Erlach stared into your eyes for a good four seconds before opening a threatening smile with his sharp fangs. His own eyes burned like fire, but you never let his gaze go – it wasn’t in you to be scared by the likes of him. You had seen worse, you had fought worse… And only you knew how threatening Dante’s eyes could look when he was half asleep in a nightmare of his young years with you trying to wake him up so he could have some peace. That was worse than any demon you could ever face.

“Indeed, that is why I needed some leverage against you.” He waved his hand nonchalantly towards the door and you immediately understood he was talking about Kyrie. “It was never my intention to allow Orcus to bond to some creature as powerful as mine… But I did not knew the extent of your powers, so I needed something to keep you in line. Luckily, Sparda’s grandson is not as attuned to powerful partners as Sparda’s children.”

You furrowed your brows. Whenever you talked between the members of the crew, there was a tacit agreement Kyrie was indeed the most powerful of all – for her ability to love openly, to cry, to be vulnerable and to care with such an open heart.

But those abilities were inherently human – and appreciated in humans rather than demons. In the human point of view, Kyrie was stronger than all of you together, and no one could argue against that. But in the demonic point of view… You and Lady were top of the list when it came to being able to take demons in a fair fight.

But you… You had Dante’s heart.

“It was part of our bargain. But I would never allow Orcus to bind to the most powerful of partners, would I?” Again, that smile painted his lips. You remained in the middle of the room, holding his gaze, not even flinching as he approached you. “I must admit, though, I never thought you would have this… Fire.”

As Erlach stopped with a few inches from your own face, you didn’t recoil. You remained with your arms crossed, standing as tall as you could in front of that huge demon lord as his fiery eyes just stared deeply into yours – and you stared back.

But you sensed something… Different. In his words, in his gaze. You wanted to furrow your brows as you were slowly coming to realize something, but you did your best to remain as proud and emotionless as you could – and Erlach took note of that. A pleasurable note.

“I can see what the son of Sparda saw in you.” That devilish smile colored his lips once more as the demon took another step towards you. It took you a great amount of willpower not to step back. You would never step back. “When demons bind with demons, it is one sort of marriage. When demons bind with humans, on Samhein, with the correct ritual… Well, it is a very different thing. A kind of binding never seen before – and never attempted, not even by Sparda.” Erlach approached with another step, making you raise your head even higher. Every fiber of your being wanted to scream Dante’s name and watch your red devil storm inside that room and suplex Erlach face first on the floor – as he deserved. The demon lord, though, offered one hand to you, palm facing up. “At first, I targeted you for Dante would not take a weakling as a partner, but now… I am more than inclined to take you as mine. With me, you would have the protection and status of royalty in Hell. We can take over entire worlds. And they would all be mine and yours to rule.” You just kept staring at him as Erlach’s fiery eyes stared even more deeply into yours. “You just have to say yes.”

To say your head was spinning was an understatement. What a wild ride that night was becoming – and something inside you stirred, telling you it would become even wilder. Were you reading his words right…? His gestures…? Not that Erlach was being subtle about it, he was being as blunt as his kind could be, but… Were you going crazy? You were, probably. That was a more plausible explanation than what you had to admit yourself – than what you were living right at that moment.

“If you think I’d give up Dante for power, then you can see nothing he saw in me.” You spat back, still holding your head high. “You are just as clueless as the rest of your kind.”

Erlach laughed back – not a laugh of an evil demon as you were used to, but one of delight. He… Enjoyed your answer…?

“The more you speak, the more I see.” He finally chuckled, stepping back after one last stare. “And I will see you later.”

With a snap of his fingers, you were back to the cold, abandoned crypt you and Kyrie were being held hostages. As your dizziness faded and you came back to reality, you saw her holding one of your hands, checking if you were ok with one of her palms on your forehead. Even if you didn’t feel lightheaded anymore, your mind was still troubled – and you had to sit down on the stone loveseat you shared with Kyrie earlier.

“Are you ok, y/n? What happened?” She sat by your side, big hazelnut eyes staring at you with warmth and humanity – so much different from the fiery pit of Erlach’s eyes. So much more welcoming and cozier. So much more like home. You would’ve hugged her if you weren’t so disoriented. “Y/n. What did he do to you? What happened?!”

“I think…” You finally managed to put into words what just happened – even if you didn’t want to say what you thought out loud. It seemed that by saying it, a sort of magic would make it become true. “I think… A demon lord just fell in love with me.”

You and Kyrie just stared at each other in horror, not even knowing what to say.

“What the hell…?!”

And Kyrie finally managed to put into words what you had been thinking the whole time.

*

“Fuckin’ hell…”

Nico just stared at Lady as Dante growled while mounting on his bike.

To be fair, Nico wasn’t the safest person to be behind a wheel, even more in a dire situation like that with Nero by her side looking like he was about to bite ankles and throw punches – but something about Dante looking like he was about to burst into flames while viciously riding the Cavaliere and growling in a half-distorted demon voice was enough to get the gunsmith ever so slightly… Concerned.

“Everything ok there, Dante, or do we need to take you in the van?” Lady screamed out her window, while Nico hoped the bright red glint in Dante’s eyes was only her imagination. “You look like you wanna beat me in a race! We hunt demons to save humans, not run them over, you know?”

“Eh, demon spidey-sense is tinglin’, Lady! That’s no good!” Dante screamed back, doing his best to keep the demonic part of his voice repressed inside his chest. He would have more than enough opportunities to let that explode. “Y/n is unsafe. I can feel it. And I…” With that, Dante drove to the back of the van because of a narrowing road, only to come back a few seconds later. “Don’t…” Another interruption for Dante not to run over a citizen cluelessly crossing the street and almost being run over by Nico. “Like it!”

His last phrase couldn’t keep the distortion in anymore and it sounded like a deep roar that came out of his chest like fire. Trish could already see the fangs in his bared teeth: those demons were in for the fight of a lifetime, for everyone knew making Dante’s lover feel unsafe was one of the worst sins in the Sparda dictionary.

Nico opened her mouth to talk to Nero – because, maybe, he could beat some sense into his uncle’s head, given they had the very same heritage – but for the first time she just put the cigarette between her lips and decided to shut up.

She was still getting used to Nero’s new trigger, so the halfway-into-turning state was something Nico didn’t really know how to deal with. By this point, Nero’s nails were definitely claws and his fangs were very much similar to Dante’s. He was fidgeting everywhere, messing with Blue Rose, as if something was really wrong with the gun and he had to fix it – a thousand fucking times. Nico could also swear his eyes were starting to glow with an inhumane gold tinge and that was very alien to her.

“Hey, kid! What about your spidey-sense tingling? Anything new?” Luckily for Nico, she had Trish around – and that woman was a pure devil, so there were very few things she feared. They all knew Nero was getting used to his own new powers, so Trish always decided to stay around and lend a hand whenever Nero had to go through something emotionally heavy – she knew it herself that demon instinct always came crashing like a wild wave whenever emotions were running high.

“Eh, she’s not good too, Trish. Worried as heck, I can feel it.” Nero mumbled under his breath, fixing the barrels of the Blue Rose for the tenth time, probably – not even needing to mention he was talking about Kyrie. With a click, the gun cocked back to its original state and Nero turned his now slightly golden aquamarine eyes to the devil leaning on his seat. “And I don’t like it either. Not at fucking all.”

Nico had to say, it always sent shivers down her spine when Nero spoke with his demonic voice like that. She was used to him being her goofy sort of brother, bickering with her down the road and tossing over-the-top, smart mouthed taunts to demons. Hearing him like that was… Something else. And Nico didn’t like it that much as well.

*

The last time you felt unsafe seemed like a whole lifetime ago.

You tried to control your hands as they wanted to start shaking – but you kept telling yourself you needed to keep Kyrie safe. After all, you were the devil hunter, not her. Kyrie could kill every single one in the crew with kindness, but not those devils… Those had to be killed with blades and gunpowder.

Being with Dante had given you something you never really had before, and just now you noticed it was tied to your red devil: safety. Even if he wasn’t around physically, you could always count on the fact that Dante, son of Sparda, Crimson Slayer, would bend Hell itself around his will to keep you from any kind of harm. It had never downed on you because, up until that point, that was a given.

Today, Halloween of all days, was a little more complicated. Dante wasn’t around, the whole ritual was bound to have some heavy magic to keep him at bay, you were completely unarmed and the demons you were up against were another kind – not the stupid, belligerent type you handled almost on a daily basis; no, those were smart, cunning and dangerous.

To top all of that, you had Kyrie on your side. If you were alone, you’d probably already be trying some unhinged escape attempts, but they were so smart on deciding to kidnap her as well. She was your weak spot on that situation and the fact that you felt unsafe and couldn’t do your best to protect her, only highlighted the fear you started to feel creeping up at the base of your stomach.

Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, the only thing that could at least try to calm your nerves was to imagine being back in Dante’s arms, at the Devil May Cry, the smell of warm pizza around and him humming some old tunes you both loved. That was home. That was your haven. Dante was your refuge, keeping you secure from every evil thing that could attack you in this world, and he wasn’t there.

For a split second, you wondered if he could feel how much your heart was aching – screaming with all its might in the hopes he would hear its call.

Suddenly, two demons entered the room you and Kyrie were being held. They didn’t have to say much: with swords pointed at both of you and the heavy doors wide open, you knew it was time. Knowing you had to calm your nerves so at least she could have a chance to escape, you got up and calmly walked in front of Kyrie – head high and staring those demons right back in their eyes.

“Everything will be ok.” You murmured back over your shoulder, knowing Kyrie would listen. “If you find a safe chance to run, do it and don’t look back. I can handle them better alone.”

You felt Kyrie’s soft hands brushing on one of yours, her voice nothing but a whisper. “Don’t put yourself in danger, y/n. I don’t wanna run without you.”

You closed your eyes, chuckling a little in silence. She was indeed an angel among so many demons – including all of you in the crew. “Oh, Kyrie. You have to learn… The whole crew would die for you, don’t you know that already…?” And even if your words weren’t the kindest, you had the sweetest tone in your voice – saying nothing but the truth. “You run. It’ll take more than a few demons to bring me down.”

Kyrie knew you were lying only to make her feel safer – there was a tinge of bitterness in your sweetness, a slight glint of sadness in your eyes. Those were more than a few demons, and both of you knew it.

She could only sigh in response and confirm with her head. You and Dante were bittersweetly so alike: always lying and pretending nothing was too serious, putting yourselves on the line for those you loved, trying to make them stop worrying while you were both ready to walk right into certain death. She had seen how angry you got every time he tried to pull something like that on you – and Kyrie had to smile even if a little bit upon realizing how similar you and your lover were, even if you hated when he did that.

Both of your thoughts had to be violently changed and brought back to the present moment when the time came to enter what one day was a beautiful, untarnished cathedral. The imposing gothic architecture was in shambles, the stars shining clearly in the deep night sky above your heads – the high peaks of the cathedral long gone. A long tapestry on the ground, torn apart and eaten by parasites, lead the way in a dirty blood red to the middle of the aisle, where a grandiose bonfire stood and lit none other than your groom.

That was definitely not the devil you had intended to marry if you ever walked down the aisle. Also, you always thought if you ever married Dante, the ceremony would be in the Devil May Cry: you would enter the shop, dressed in your best hunting clothes – maybe something leather, carefully picked by Trish to make you even more mesmerizing – watching Dante smiling at you, leaning on his desk, arms crossed and love pouring from his eyes.

That was the perfect marriage for you alright. And leaving for a quick honeymoon with your red devil, riding on the Cavaliere, a few cans tied to it with a “just married” sign on the back, waving at the crew at the door of the shop while Dante made the motorcycle burn the road with its demonic power? More than perfect.

“You shall enter first. The other human stays until your ritual is performed.” One of the demons held Kyrie hostage, pointing your way down the derelict aisle. Her eyes were filled with fear, and you couldn’t do anything but comply.

Holding your head high, you walked down the damned aisle. Not like a perfect fiancé, but like a wronged force of nature, just waiting for the right time to unleash your fury against all those demons. You were wearing those ridiculous clothes, on that ridiculous place, while demons started chanting and playing a song for the demonic ritual that had just started, stripped of your guns, blades and clothes.

To say you wanted to sucker punch Erlach on his face until his sharp teeth fell out was an understatement.

And yet, he had nothing but admiration and fire in his eyes for you. The more you approached, the more he smiled, offering you his hand as you were getting closer and closer – you refused to take it, standing in front of him just like you did when he first talked to you.

“You know, the kidnapping and taking my gear away, I could forgive. But these clothes…?” You pointed down at that hideous thing that was forced to you. “You could’ve done better. A lot better.”

“I judged you by all the mortals I’ve ever met – and now I realize I shouldn’t have done so. Do apologize, exquisite creature.” And Erlach answered your insult with a delighted distorted laugh. You just remained there, looking like you had just stuck a flip flop into a toaster, not knowing what to do. It seemed that the more you tried to repel him, the more Erlach liked you. “But rituals shouldn’t be taken lightly. One should wear the proper attire.”

“To think a demon would’ve dressed his counterpart a lot better and risqué than this…” You sighed, pushing all those ruffles away from your face as he, once more, tried to take your hand and guide you to approach the bonfire. “I thought this was going to be a dual wedding. Where’s your friend?”

“Orcus can try to pull off his ritual after I’m done with mine.” Erlach had a devilish smile pulling his lips up in a distorted line. It was a little… Unsettling. “We… Agreed such a powerful ritual should be done one at a time.”

“Huh. That’ll be before or after you kill him?” You had one eyebrow lifted and Erlach laughed with joy in his voice, now finally forcing you to walk with him towards the bonfire. “You got quite the silver tongue to convince him you’re gonna let him go through with his ritual with his head still on his shoulders.”

“Oh, my dear, you have no idea.” Erlach forced you to spin around and look deep into his eyes, holding you by both of your arms in an iron clasp you couldn’t break away easily without your weapons. “You are very welcome to discover soon enough. I am mesmerized with your cunning and wit – so much better than all those pitiful uninspired creatures I have to live with every day. We will be quite a pair, sweet temptation.”

That admiration was there, that fire burning in his eyes, and… Lust…?! You had to contain a shiver of pure terror thinking a creature like that lusted for you. It wasn’t necessarily his appearance – you did find Dante one hell of a piece of temptation in whatever form he was, be it human, Devil Trigger or even his Sin Devil Trigger – but his soul. Erlach lacked the very thing that made you fall madly and hopelessly for Dante: his golden heart, his gentle soul, his kind eyes and his unapologetic humanity.

That was why it didn’t matter how Dante looked like: you would always fall in love with him. Even if he was just a piece of rock with googly eyes laying on his desk, you would love that rock with all your heart.

“What if I refuse to be your pair?” You had one of your eyebrows raised, trying to hide the fear creeping at the base of your stomach. “As far as I know, all marriages require a resounding yes from both parts. What are you gonna do? Torture me?”

“As tempting as that sounds…” And even if you didn’t show it, your blood certainly froze in your veins for a second. “I fear you would take a very long time to break under such circumstances. The Son of Sparda chose you for your brave heart and hardened soul, I can see that now. Luckily for demonic rituals, the sacrifices don’t need to consent.”

“Oh. I thought I was more than just a disposable piece of meat. I’m hurt.” Masking your fear with jokes and taunts, you had learned that with the very best. Dante had all the blame for that.

“Don’t be, my creature.” Erlach’s words were laced with a laugh while he took a ceremonial dagger from an altar nearby. “That is how humans are usually named in our rituals. You will remain alive, or else, it doesn’t work. I do need your blood… A reasonable amount, but nothing lethal.”

His hand clasped your wrist with a tight grip you couldn’t break from. Your heart started beating faster and faster, as you looked around trying to find Kyrie – crossing her terrified eyes as she watched from the distance, close to the entrance where once was a door, fearing for your life. You wanted to mutter some soothing words for her, but not even you could lie that much: your survival instincts kicked in and your adrenaline spiked. It was now or never, but you had to escape.

Erlach held your arm above a bowl made of pure gold, now darkened with time and stained with all the sacrifices it contained. He spoke some words in demonic language, while the chanting got even more intense – some things you could understand, but the others were lost as your mind became hazy with trying to think what to do.

It was a surprise to all – you closed your free hand in a fist and did exactly what you wanted to do since you saw that hideous thing you were wearing: sucker punch that conceited demon right on his face.

Erlach was taken aback for a moment, looking back at you with confused eyes. Seizing his distraction, you disarmed him and took the ceremonial dagger to yourself, cutting his hand that held your wrist and demanding him to let you go. Erlach stumbled back in awe, while you took a fighting stance with the dagger in your hand, ready to kill – but not ready to get married.

And he smiled.

“Such fire…!” To say Erlach was ecstatic was an underestimation. “My creature… What are you going to do with that?” And he took a predator stance, as both of you studied your options in that fight.

If you could look back at Kyrie, you would see her smiling and supporting you as much as she could. To say she admired you, was to say you only liked Dante.

“I am going to kill every single demon in this cathedral… Including you.” Pointing the dagger at Erlach, it was your turn to allow a devilish smile to cover your lips. “Then, I’m taking my friend back home. Back into the arms of the only devil I will ever love. Back to Dante.”

As you spoke, you didn’t even hear a ragged guitar faintly playing in the background – and approaching ominously. The only thing you had in mind was a tunnel focus on Erlach, ready to tear him apart as soon as he got close to you.

“Oh, I will enjoy that, my creature. And I might even need to get rid of Dante myself.” As soon as he finished his sentence, though, you scoffed in a laughter of pure mockery.

“Now that, you would try. Dante is so much more than you will ever be – he will reduce you to ashes with a single stare. That’s how pitiful you are compared to him, Erlach.” As your words poured, you couldn’t stop laughing at how he looked slightly insulted. Fucking finally. “And I gotta say, that’s not the only thing Dante is really good at. He does burn like fire.”

“I will enjoy subduing you.” Erlach growled, baring his teeth. Now you managed to piss him off.

“I will enjoy watching you try.” You wouldn’t allow him too much time to think: spinning the blade in your hand for a better grip, you finally tried to stab him with a swift attack – but he easily dodged as you got even angrier at that ridiculous clothing you were wearing. Those frills and terrible fabric made your movement a lot debilitated.

You tried a few other attacks as Erlach dodged and started smiling again, enjoying every bit of it – starting to even try a few attacks, while you blocked with the dagger. It was all too fast… At the same pace of the guitar that now echoed loudly, with a very familiar song approaching the chorus.

“Now, my creature.” Erlach held your hand with the dagger when you tried another stab. Even if you were resisting, it was more entertaining than anything else: you needed your gear. He pulled you closer to him, even if you tried to stay away as much as you could. “It’s time to stop the fun. We can do this after the ritual.”

Before any of you could do anything else, the guitar finally arrived – with the screeching of what seemed a thousand tires, the smell of gasoline and the sound of a shot from a gun you knew so well.

Said shot hit the dagger, making it shatter into a thousand little pieces in your hand, causing Erlach to let go of you in a reflex – while AC/DC’s vocalist screamed he would shoot to thrill, play to kill.

“Well, I think we’re all ready for the afterparty, aren’t we, hot stuff?”

Dante had entered down the aisle with Cavaliere screeching, leaving a trail of fire behind him, stopping right in the middle to shoot that ceremonial dagger into oblivion. The smoke was still fresh on the barrel of his gun, while he had one foot on the ground, still mounted on his motorcycle, smirking at you with that gorgeous smile that, today, you wanted to kiss out of his mouth with so much passion the crew would probably have to throw a whole bucket of water on both of you to put out the fire.

And, right behind him, Nico crashed what was left of the cathedral’s door while blasting AC/DC’s Shoot to Thrill because she would be damned if she didn’t put a good soundtrack for that moment. You could see her smiling behind the wheel, supporting every single bit of Dante’s antics.

The smile that painted your lips – a broad one, mixed with thrill and relief – was everything Dante wanted to see. That was all the confirmation he needed to know that pull in his chest was actually your heart desperately calling for him to help.

“Ya know, I could forgive the kidnapping, you got one hell of a devil hunter in your hands to deal with…” Dante now let go of Cavaliere, leaving it in the middle of the cathedral, walking down the aisle with the sassy walk you always loved to see – moving his hips and opening his arms, taunting with a pretended carefree attitude. The distortion in his voice, sharp teeth and claws betrayed his words, though – and you couldn’t be happier. “But what’s the deal with those clothes?!”

“Exactly.” You smiled back, sighing as if someone there finally understood you. Erlach just looked at you and back at Dante trying to contain his surprise – it wasn’t possible you were synchronized in even that. “I can barely move, how am I supposed to kick his ass?”

“I can help ya with that, pretty eyes.” Dante’s voice now became darker, leaning even further into his Devil Trigger. For a split second, you could swear you saw his demonic form taking over before Dante appeared again. His eyes were almost entirely taken by red, his hand already gripping the hilt of Rebellion. “But I gotta deal with a few of these clowns first.”

“I’m not going anywhere, hot stuff.” You had the proudest of smiles on your lips as the demons started to approach, ready to fight your red devil. “Show them what a real party looks like.”

“Ya don’t have to ask twice!”

“What are you all waiting for?!” As soon as Erlach screamed, the demons ran towards Dante as a pack of rabid creatures, ready to take his blood. Erlach smiled with pride as they surrounded the Crimson Slayer, already pouncing to take a bite – there was no way a hybrid could take so many demons at once in a fight.

Looking at the crew’s van, you managed to see Lady leaning by the vehicle, watching it all with excitement but refusing to get into the fight. You almost laughed upon seeing Trish holding Nero’s jacket while he tried to let himself go from her iron tight grip, probably saying he should be in the fight too – but his eyes weren’t locked on Dante or the swarming demons: Nero was looking for Kyrie.

And you would’ve done the same, finally questioning yourself where they were keeping her after all that confusion took over the ritual. Nero could very well let himself go of Trish, but everyone knew he had his own priority – a priority you couldn’t find, and that fact started worrying you.

You would have given that a better thought if a sudden fiery explosion hadn’t sent demons flying around the cathedral like fireworks. Dante’s Devil Trigger was on, but not his normal one… It was his Sin Devil Trigger in all his demonic glory, with leathery wings hovering him from the floor and Devil Sword Dante burning like fire in his hands.

To say that would be a slaughter… Again, would be putting it lightly. With the masterfully chosen soundtrack by Nico blasting on the background, Dante single handedly slayed all the demons that decided to cross between you and him. You risked a side look to Erlach, only to find the demon astonished by Dante’s form and power – and you couldn’t resist. You leaned on the altar next to you, with a matter-of-fact look in your eyes.

“He usually has this effect on people… And demons.” You had to say it. You just couldn’t refrain from taunting and annoying that silly devil who forced you to wear those terrible wedding clothes.

With the Devil Sword Dante dripping blood, the son of Sparda approached as he slayed all the demons that tried to fight. Dante was a frightening powerhouse – usually terrifying, but today even more… After all, the human he loved most in all dimensions was kidnapped by a conceited demon who thought he would have the chance to bind his beloved in a marriage ritual without their consent. Dante was beyond angry.

“It will only be an obstacle, then.” Erlach turned his eyes back to you. “Don’t think for a second I gave up, my creature. If I have to kill the son of Sparda, I will do so – with the power you will grant me with your blood.”

Once again, the demon held your arm – but this time, digging the nails into your skin, making you scream with the sudden pain. That made Dante immediately turn to you, being hit as well and inundating the cathedral with the smell of the blood of Sparda. His fighting became sloppy as he tried to approach you even faster – but it also became even more vicious.

Erlach dragged you back to the sacrificial bowl, as you tried to get away. Even with your fighting, your limited movements weren’t helping too much. As he extended your arm above the bowl, you managed to see – behind him, in the distance, covered in shadows – Orcus holding Kyrie hostage, searching everywhere for a breech so he could finish his ritual before Erlach.

“Nero! Kyrie is over there! Go kick his ass, kid!” You screamed while fighting so Erlach couldn’t drip your blood into the bowl. Yes, he needed more than a few drops from the gashes from his claws – but he could make them bigger once you were in a decent position. And you didn’t want to give him that.

“Kyrie! I’m coming for you!” And finally, after his aquamarine eyes found Kyrie’s plea for help, Nero did let go of Trish with ease – and the she-devil didn’t even try to hold him back. With just a smile on her face, the woman looked back at Lady and they knew it was time to intervene now that both of you were located and they wouldn’t risk any of your lives.

Amidst all that, with Dante literally burning his way towards you while being held back by three demons, a few invisible cuts made them fall apart and gush blood all over the floor. Vergil entered the cathedral, while carrying an old book you saw at Erlach’s office earlier that night – the book with all the ancient, and most forbidden, devilish incantations.

“Go on, Dante. I’ll take it from here.” Vergil barely looked at the demons he was fighting with: holding the book with one hand and being assisted by summoned swords, he only needed a few well placed judgement cuts to get rid of all those nuisances.

Dante didn’t even think twice after hearing his brother’s words. Marching down the aisle, he approached you and Erlach like a death omen – his demonic form in his ultimate Devil Trigger was enough to inspire respect even in the upper echelon of Hell.

And you had to say, you were proud of that.

“Let y/n go, Erlach.” As Dante commanded, you couldn’t fail to notice his voice was slightly… Different. The more he approached, the more his voice sounded less distorted and more human. “Ya know, for a demon with such a pretentious plan, you’d think you’d put up more of a difficult fight.” And when Dante stopped right in front of the altar between you both, he was completely human – looking at you with the sky blue eyes you loved so much. “I’m barely breakin’ a sweat.”

If Erlach’s claws weren’t deep into your skin, you would’ve locked your arms around his neck already, taking in his scent and calming down your heart. Yes, Dante would be smelling of gunpowder, blood and sweat, but that was still his scent. It was enough to make you feel secure again.

“Indeed. I underestimated you.” Erlach’s claws dug out of your skin, making you retreat quickly. You managed to see a little commotion where Kyrie and Nero were before, but with everything that was happening, you couldn’t quite make the moment where Orcus was nowhere to be seen – all you could be sure was that Kyrie was safe, back into Nero’s arms. And that was enough. “It seems like the blood of Sparda still thrives to this day.”

“Yeah, yeah, daddy’s blood and all that…” Dante rolled his eyes, shooting near Erlach’s feet. The demon jumped back, farther away from you – and that made you smile. “Spit it out, spook. How did you find out ‘bout the ritual? Where did ya get that book?”

“Apparently you never heard of a library. On that aspect, I win, my creature.” Erlach still had that weird admiration in his eyes for you, making you wince. You never gave him a single reason to like you. Demons had to be masochist creatures.

“Oh, I heard about those alright. It just so happens my brother here has spent a very long vacation time in Hell and lemme tell ya…” With those words, Dante finally took Erlach by his neck, leaning the demon over the sacrificial bowl and touching the blade of Rebellion on his neck. Dante usually didn’t get that feral… But Erlach had tried him a little bit too much that night. “He doesn’t have very nice words about you and your little friends. Those rituals aren’t well known in detail. Something gave you that book. Who?”

It wasn’t a side of Dante you liked to see, but, when dealing with those kinds of demons, it was a necessary one. Erlach, as far as you could tell, wasn’t just your dumb daily demon – he was in the upper echelon. And said echelon only became worse the higher the rank.

“You would love to know, wouldn’t you?” Erlach laughed even if the sword already started to nick some blood out of his thick demonic skin. “You will have to let me go to get your answer. If you don’t, no deal.”

You closed your eyes, sighing. Erlach was the deal kind of demon. And it was always a slippery slope with those silver tongue devils.

Dante knew that as well. His heart screamed at him to kill Erlach and let his blood run over the floor of the cathedral – to take you home safely and let you know that threat would never loom over you again.

But they needed answers. Only very high rank demons would have access to that kind of book – to those kinds of rituals. Demons like Sparda… Like Mundus. And that was something none of them wanted as a threat. The single thought of the possibility of Mundus being alive made him shiver and his blood boil. His house burned in his childhood, his family slaughtered like animals, his past stained in blood and sulfur. He didn’t want that to happen again. He wouldn’t let that happen again. Not to anyone in the crew, not to his nephew, not to his brother… Not to you.

Dante let Erlach go. The demon cracked his neck, gaining his posture once again. You stood by Dante’s side, ready to suplex Erlach into oblivion if he tried anything funny.

“The two of you already have what you need to know the answer.” Erlach pointed at the book in Vergil’s hands, moving his gaze back to you soon after. “I will have you as mine, y/n. You have my word, sweet creature.”

Before you could do anything in response, Erlach set himself ablaze in flames that kept burning for a few seconds while he disappeared back to where he came from – probably Hell, if you had to guess.

“Eh. We should’ve known he would leave without giving us a decent answer.” You sighed, feeling your shoulders relax for the first time that night, knowing all demons were dead and you were around safe people again.

“And even shamelessly flirtin’ with ya, what’s up with that…?”

“No idea, red devil. I did my best for him to hate me; apparently it backfired tremendously.”

You finally turned to look at each other. Both of you looked tired, completely out of energy – you, from your human body; Dante from the toll all that fiery explosion of anger and demonic heritage could take on him. His eyes, though… Those sky blue eyes, looked at you with the human kindness you always longed for – with the admiration and fire of a lover, but the gentleness of a soul who was not only your mate, but your home.

You felt safe again. All that insecurity, that fear, that horror of being alone and having to fight on your own – to survive on your own – it washed away in that infinite blue sky. He was your home, and you were safe. Nothing bad would ever happen to you, for Dante was there to catch you and hold you in his arms until you felt you could walk with certainty again.

“I heard you, pretty eyes…” Dante murmured, taking a strand of hair out of your dirty face, watching with amusement as you furrowed your brows. He took one of his hands over his heart, eyes looking into yours. “I heard you here.”

A gradual smile lit up your face as you understood what he had said. That pull, that thing you did, of closing your eyes and praying he would find you… It worked. Of course it worked. And you couldn’t be happier, with all that pouring like a golden fountain from your heart, making your eyes laminate with a few tears and threaten to overflow.

“I’m glad you did, cowboy.” You approached him, cradling his face with your hands and leaning him down so his forehead could touch yours. “I’m glad you did. I prayed so loud for you.”

With that, you took his hand to touch your heart, in the hopes he would once again listen – but this time hear the golden tunes it sang along the overflow. The frills of the ridiculous attire didn’t allow him to find your beat, though.

“Well, I told ya I’d get rid of that, right?” Dante sighed, staring down at that horrid attire – although he would argue you could never look bad. Even with that thing on. “Ei! All of ya, look away! I’m puttin’ y/n out of their misery!”

“What…?”

Before you could finish asking, though, Dante masterfully moved Rebellion around you – while everyone turned away or closed their eyes. Lady and Trish, though, just kept staring at that goof of a man you called your lover. Within a few seconds, those terrifying wedding clothes tore apart, pooling around your feet on the floor while you just stared back at your red devil – the chilly air of the night all around your bare skin.

“That was hot.” You had to say it while Dante quickly checked you out like the masterpiece he always thought you were.

“Not as hot as you, babe.” With a wink, Dante took off his red coat, wrapping it around you and making you warm again.

You loved wearing Dante’s coat. It was definitely too big for you, but it was always warm – that night, you could almost say it seemed like it was enveloped in flames. But it had his scent all over it and it fit like a huge cape you could almost drag on the ground. You couldn’t have asked for a better attire for that evening.

“Hey.” As you called for his attention, those blue eyes rested on you again, little by little settling all that restlessness that whole ordeal had set in your soul. And, since words weren’t enough, you once again cradled his face with your hands, this time placing a well-deserved kiss on your lover’s lips.

Dante giggled between your lips, wrapping his strong arms around your waist to lift you off the floor – making it easier for you to kiss him unapologetically. You never saw yourself as a damsel in distress, and you would have killed every demon in that room with a dagger and your teeth if it was necessary, but it wasn’t. And that was so new: you could always count on Dante to be there for you, to protect you and to be a place for you to fall whenever you lost your balance.

Your heart stopped screaming and Dante’s soul found peace again.

*

“Ah, I see Nero stole Dante’s idea.”

As you saw Kyrie leaving the van’s bathroom wearing nothing but Nero’s coat, she smiled happily back at you while showing it off as soon as you pointed that out. You were sitting in the van, still in the red coat – Dante would know only later that decision would cost him his sanity while trying to get his coat back from you. A few chases and him gripping you tight to get his coat back was in store for the rest of that night.

“It was a very good idea.” Kyrie had a mischievous smile on her lips, blushing a little bit while grabbing the collar of Nero’s coat and taking in the scent. “It smells like him. It feels like he’s always around.”

“I know what you mean.” You smiled proudly as an answer, barely noticing Nico staring at both of you while Lady and Trish giggled.

“Ya know what she means…? That coat is nasty!” Nico pointed at the blue coat enveloping the crew’s little angel, making you laugh a little bit more. “And yours?! If Nero’s coat is bad, Dante’s even worse! Looks like he just blasted from the insides of a frog demon or somethin’! And you say it has his scent?!” The gunsmith couldn’t be more revolted at yours and Kyrie’s antics.

“That’s Dante’s scent for ya...” You sighed, leaning back on the van’s seat – something quite red devilish like. “Gunpowder, demon’s blood and sweat. When he’s clean, though, it’s more of a woody and musky with a hint of pizza kind of scent. Sometimes strawberries.”

“Apparently, love doesn’t make us only blind, it makes our sense of smell completely absent.” Trish strutted her way towards the seat she always took in the van, across from you, having a complacent smile on her devil lips.

“It makes us more tolerant.” Kyrie sat by your side, completely happy to be wearing Nero’s clothes and safe and sound with the crew again. “That is a thing most people need to learn more about.”

“As always, angel Kyrie is right.” Lady sighed, taking her spot inside the van – after lightly elbowing Nico just to tease the gunsmith. “Just like we tolerate the smell of your cigarettes.”

“Hey, at least I’m not turning into a fuming creature blasting demon viscera everywhere!” Nico pointed at Lady with her cigarette between her fingers, making all of you laugh. “Must take days to get those things off your hair!”

“Sometimes, it takes even weeks!” Dante’s voice added from outside of the van, entering soon after to take his seat right by your side. To say Dante would be hovering around you for months, overly protecting you over anything and everything, was a very mild way to describe his behavior after that evening.

“Ya know, once I found a piece of liver hidden right behind my ear…?” Nero approached Nico as she just glared at him with pure disgust. “Took me days to find it.”

“You’re nasty, demon boy.” Nico lightly shoved Nero out of the way, dismissing all that conversation to go back to the stirring wheel. Nero laughed back, making his way to Kyrie and sitting by her side, cradling her with one of his arms while she rested her head on his chest.

“We couldn’t find more on the origin of their knowledge…” Vergil was the last one to board, closing the van’s door behind him. As soon as he did, Nico started driving back home – and he showed you a few things he had in his hands. “But we did find your gear. I will keep it in a safe place until we get back to the shop.”

“Oh, thank you so much, Verge!” You had genuine relief in your voice, watching as he carefully placed your sword next to him. “I thought I’d never see those things again. Thanks for finding them.”

As always, Vergil didn’t answer, just bowed his head as the perfect gentleman he was. Soon, Dante’s arm found its way around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.

“Huh, so much thankfulness for Vergil, while I was the one who saved your ass from that demon lord. I’m feeling a little ignored.” Of course, you knew Dante was only joking – never in all your time together you picked up any sign of jealousy he could have of you and Vergil. Dante was very secure about your relationship, knowing quite well where your heart rested – he would be insecure, sometimes, when it came to other humans.

“Oh, c’mon. How can I not be thankful when it’s my gear we’re talking about?” You raised one eyebrow, teasing him back – which only made Dante smile. “Now being a little more serious, it was rough being stripped of everything. Even with that hideous frilly attire, I felt completely naked. There’s no way for me to defend myself without all my stuff; I don’t have demonic blood running through my veins to go into a rampage and kill every single living thing in front of me.”

“Well, lucky for you, I got that goin’ for me.” Dante brought you even closer, tightening his half hug around you.

“Hmmm…” You took some time to take in his scent, this time directly from his neck, right in front of you. Yes, all those things you mentioned before, but you could always find the woody and musky Dante scent underneath all of that. And maybe it was that which made you feel so comfortable and secure. “I was scared. I was running out of options when you showed up.”

“Shhh, don’cha think ‘bout that, pretty eyes.” Whenever you voiced how uncomfortable you were with something, Dante immediately started caressing you just to at least make you feel physically comfortable again. And you had to say, it always worked.

“I know, I know… It’s just… I know I can always count on you to appear at the direst of moments, no matter where I am.” With those words, you placed one of your hands above his heart, making those sky blue eyes look back into yours. “I know you can hear me call, no matter what.”

“It’s part of the demon thing, babe.” Even though he was happy with that, Dante had a bittersweet smile on his lips.

“Yeah, maybe… But demons don’t show up to save desperate souls who are praying for them when all other options have failed.” You brushed aside some strands of dirty hair that insisted on covering those beautiful eyes – now looking at you with curiosity and admiration. “Do you know who do?”

“Hmmm…?”

“Angels do.” Your answer was but a murmur, even quieter than the engines of the van. “You are my very own guardian angel, Dante.”

Lady once said that, somewhere out there, even a devil may cry when he loses a loved one – but you would dare to add that devils did cry when they were loved back.

Your red devil was living proof of that on that Halloween night.

[see-arcane]

heeheehoohoo

I am adding nifty little scribbles to the Substack pile. They are full of menace and nefarious goings-on >:}

A Halloween treat (of tears) for me~

[sysig]

Dr. ZEXenstein (Patreon)

[countdown-til-sanders-take-over]

this is a formal apology for every time i've read ur fnaf theories, gone "ah... of course! yes!" and then forgotten to respond

This is a formal apology for every time I've read one of your asks, not immediately had a TQ&/E, and forgotten to respond

[tonycries]

My Oh My - R.S.

Synopsis. Trick or treat! The mean ínmate in Room 6/9 doesn’t want halloween candy - he wants something else much, much sweeter.

Pairing. Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, ínmate! Sukuna, slight foódplay, creampíes, bràt-taming, use of “góod girl”, MEAN softíe Sukuna, PÚSSYDRUNK Sukuna, oraI (fem receiving), fíngering, Sukuna’s piercings and tattoos, dry-húmping, squ��rting, spítting, bódy worshíp, exhíbitionism, slight Gojo x Reader, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 6.7k (sigh)

A/N. Yes, the seventh day of k!nktober had to be Sukuna even tho I’m a Gojo-gagger…

“Nanami chill.”

It’s twelve in the dead of Halloween, and Nanami Kento does, in fact, not chill - not when he’s five hours deep into overtime at the most high security prison in all of Japan, running on only three cups of caffeine and the promise of a day off sometime in the next year. 

“You know I can’t do that.” he rubs his throbbing temples, heaving out a sigh as he often does. Taking one long look around the glaringly empty surveillance office, “Especially not today of all days.”

You’re humming in flippant agreement, but that only makes the furrow in your partner’s brows deepen even more. “I know I know. But don’t you think the inmates deserve something a lil’ special today? I mean, he-” Pointing at the grainy CCTV footage on your computer screen - showing one, Ryomen Sukuna, in his padded cell. Watching. Waiting. “-didn’t get a single visitor all year.”

And before Nanami can even think to open his mouth, you’re already dusting down your uniform. Grabbing the bowl of candy propped between you two that you’d swiped from the break room. 

“Wait-”

“After all, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Now, you’ve always been told that you’re a little softer than most when it comes to your inmates - which perhaps wasn’t the best quality to have when your section was filled to the brim with the most infamous of yakuza and serial criminals. But they respected you. Hell, Nanami loved to roll his eyes at this one but - you think they almost liked you.

Especially Ryomen Sukuna.

You shiver at the long, long list of crimes of his that you had to memorize in your early days - distinctly remembering the way your laptop had crashed with just how far you had to scroll. 

Honestly, you weren’t surprised that the most wanted crime boss across the globe wouldn’t get anything other than public threats and a few snarling officers that laugh smugly in his face. Though, you have had to sift out a few perfumed fan mail from time to time. 

And even before you’d started this job, you knew of him - who didn’t? 

The King of Curses, they called him. And what a king he was.

Some say he was just a crook. Others say he was a beast that seemed like he had four arms and twice the power of any normal human being. 

Right before his arrest, the Curses owned half of Japan’s revenue - he was untouchable. With his deceivingly innocent signature pink hair, those circling tattoos all across his body, and the dark, dark bloodthirst to get whatever he wanted. Whenever. And fast. 

It’d made international news when he was finally caught - only after a long, agonizing syndicate war between himself and the Six Eyes. It was your first day working here, and you were there to spy it firsthand when he was brought in. Shackles clanking along the metallic prison floor, towering well above the eight officers by his side, being hauled into that specialized cell like some animal. 

And, yet, through it all Sukuna was smiling - smiling like he knew something that everyone in this building didn’t. 

It still burns into your memory the way he’d stopped right in his tracks for the first time on his way up here, stalling for just a second. Two. Before looking right into your widened eyes, devilish grin only growing at your trembling figure.

Ryomen Sukuna had his eyes on you from the moment those handcuffs locked him in here. 

And he still did.

“Hey there, Kuna-” you’re humming after the long, tedious task of unlocking all sixteen padlocks on his heavy metal door. It clamors to a shut behind you with a deafening clang! Locked from the inside. With him. Alone. “How are we doing today?”

Sukuna was sat on the padded floor of his cell, knees brought up to his broad chest. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have said he almost looked like a scolded child - had it not been for the custom-made metal cuffs that restrained him up to his very forearms. A matching leather muzzle drawn tight to cover half of his pretty face. 

He was the very epitome of all you should stay away from in this prison. 

And, yet, you find yourself walking towards him, carefully trying not to step on the hefty chains of his shackled ankles. 

It surrounds you like an iron serpent, clinking lightly when he’s raising his half-lidded eyes to look up at you. “Heh- will it reduce my sentence if I say s’better now that you’re here, brat?” 

Sukuna’s deep baritone was husky with disuse, hitching sharply at the end of his sweet little nickname for you. From what little you could make out behind the muzzle, you catch the slow, sultry curl of his plump lips. “Or should I say-” His gaze trickles down to your glinting golden badge, narrowing. “-officer.”

You’re rolling your eyes, “You and I both know we’re past all that, Sukuna.”

“Not past that enough, dontcha think?” he’s cracking his neck with a slight tilt side by side, as if he hadn’t even realized how long he’d been sitting here until you’d wandered your way inside. Cocking his head up slightly at the small glass bowl still clutched in your hands, “Somethin’ sweet from someone sweet f’me?”

“Oh-” you’re sputtering out. He knew exactly what buttons to push to tease and toy with you without even lifting a finger. “-yes, trick or treat! Since it’s Halloween I thought I might as well share the spirit.”

He’s bellowing out a husky laugh that rumbles from deep within his chest, and you have to tear your eyes away from the slight, sinful sliver of tan skin that peeks out at the jostle of his thin cotton t-shirt. 

You hated to admit it - but you almost understood exactly why Sukuna got so many fan letters that you had to throw out. A secret you’d whispered to Nanami over break and then never again after he fully ignored you for a week afterwards. 

Sukuna takes his languid time stretching out his limbs, and you get the distinctly hot feeling that he’s doing this on purpose. One eye cracked to watch your every jolt when the hem of his t-shirt raises just a bit too high, when his long, long legs nudging lightly against your feet. 

You huff, “Well, would ya like some or not? Because I can just give all of it to Mahito in the next cell-”

“Ah, you’re so damn hot when you’re mad.” he grins, and now you know he’s having fun with you. “Fuckin’ demanding, too.” 

He’s bringing up his two firmly restrained arms up to your line of vision. “And, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, silly girl, but m’a little ah- preoccupied, here.”

Oh, right. 

Shit. 

It would’ve been so easy to just move your fingers over to the keys in your backpocket and unlock his handcuffs for the slightest second. So easy to shut his cocky mouth up by doing the very things he knows he won’t goad you into doing. 

But you sneak a glimpse up at the camera positioned at the very corner of the room - trained on the hunched over-figures of the two of you - as if to say, “Hey, see, Nanami?” 

“Nice try.” And you swear you hear the great Ryomen Sukuna gasp - gasp - a sharp, tiny inhale when you reach out towards the very back of his muzzle. Your fingers scratching up lightly against his silken tresses as you feel for the clasp, letting it fall to the ground in a sad pile. Soft - it’s the first thing on your mind, and the next was how unfairly attractive Sukuna looked without his muzzle. “But you’re not going anywhere.”

He just beams up at you, showing off his slightly sharpened canines. Facial tattoos almost as sinful as the darkened glint in his eyes, “Heh- as if I’d wanna go absolutely anywhere else right now.”

Before you can snap back - or more likely, make a fool out of yourself to his amusement - he cranes his neck desperately upwards. “So? Jus’ gonna stand there givin’ me a pretty view or what?”

Too soon, you’re realizing what he wants.

And too readily, you’re crouching down till you’re eye-level with his greedy gaze. Hastily unwrapping one of the candies, “Open wide.”

Sukuna only grins. “Get closer would ya? M’not a fuckin’ giraffe now, am I?”

Fuck. 

Wordlessly, you inch closer.

“Closer. These chains aren’t as long as they look y’know.”

And closer. 

“Just a bit more- I don’t bite. Promise.”

And- 

“Good girl.”

Before you know it - Sukuna has you exactly where he wants you. Losing your fragile balance to topple over into his awaiting lap, manspread, cushioning your fall. His biceps flex against his restraints, as if some second nature of his wanted to wrap those tattooed arms around your waist.

“I-” you’re gasping, palms gliding over his feeble uniform. Feeling every curve and divot along his hard front- fuck, he felt like a wall of bricks. So toned underneath that fabric, your chin rests softly on the valley between his plush pecs. “I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

“S’perfect though, isn’t it?” he’s cutting you off, leaning in so close now that you could feel your cheeks heat with each of his feverish puffs of air. The very tip of his nose kissing yours. “Now you can reach me- honestly, why complain when life gives ya lemons, woman.”

Your breath hitches, “I…”

“So? Gonna gimme some of that sweetness?”

You’re still unsure of what’s happening. And all you can do is to wordlessly bring the sweet treat up to his lips, almost flinching when the warm softness of his lips brush up against your fingertips. 

And shit, you know what it must look like on the outside, you know that Nanami’s probably halfway through jumping out of his seat at the surveillance office already. 

But you really can’t bring yourself to think about that right now - not when Sukuna’s wrapping his rosy lips around your fingers. Eyes drooping shut slowly. Lazily. Lingering longer than necessary when his tongue swipes at the candy. 

It all but melts in your hand, and as soon as you’re about to pull back-

“Hold right there f’me now.”

You’re sure if Sukuna’s hands were freed then he’d have claimed a strong grip on your wrist already, because he was just nuzzling his face into your touch. Sighing out, “Can’t have my officer all dirty now, can I?”

His long, pink tongue comes up to just drag along your digits, making you keen at the slight scratch of his soft taste buds. One by one. Each of your fingers. Sucking, groaning. 

Smiling at you slyly, he’s dragging his tongue in between your index and your middle finger, slurping up all the sweetened candy from before. “What? Cat got yer tongue?”

“Y-you-”

“Y-y-y-you-” he mocks, baritone voice a few octaves dramatically higher than usual. Through his smirk, Sukuna bites down on the very tip of your index, making you wince at the sharp sting of his canines. “If ya got somethin’ to say then spit it out like the big girl you are.”

He’s so leeringly smug, watching back as you struggle to meet his intense gaze as if it was his favorite show. Oh, how he wants to tease you about that little good girl routine you put whenever you stop by his cell - always smiling, always in that snug uniform that made you look so irresistible, always talking to him so sweetly as if he wasn’t the king of curses himself.

Never in his life would he admit it, but it was so…cute.

And Sukuna half-expects you to jump back this very second, to throw another one of your pouts his way and scamper off back to the safety of your office. He expects you to-

“Kiss me.”

Oh. 

Fuck.

That was not what Sukuna expected - never in the hundreds of years he was sentenced to rot in this prison.

But, well, looking down at the way you were splayed out so prettily on his lap - your chin jutting forwards, hands steadied on his pecs, glossed-up lips all pursed for him - how could he ever say no?

In a split-second, he’s kissing you. 

And you’re kissing him back and fuck- is it intoxicating.

Sukuna meshes his lips against yours so slowly, savoring. Angling his head just enough to suckle on your honeyed lips, you’re feeling his hips gently buck upwards, drinking up your light groans. 

You mewl when he slides his soft tongue between your lips. And that’s when you learn that Sukuna has a tongue piercing, cold and metallic against your lips. He tastes so sweet - exactly like the artificial strawberry from the sweet earlier and-

“Hah-” you’re gasping at the soft clink! of something sweet, something hard being placed all prettily right in the middle of your tongue - the candy. Brows raising, “Isn’t that-”

“So what if it is?” he’s grunting, not letting you part too far away before sitting up even straight to surge his lips against yours. Mellow. Addicted. Sukuna just loved how sweet you were on him - even more so than that godforsaken candy. He’s craning upwards to nip lightly at your bottom lip, “Got a problem?”

You were so pliant on top of him, swiveling your hips down lazily at his question instead of answering. Over and over. And Sukuna almost finds it in himself to taunt you until you answer- before one manicured hand of yours grips his face, letting his sharp jaw slack open. 

Only giving the candy a few drippingly wet swirls inside your mouth before spitting - a thick wad of candied spit right onto Ryomen Sukuna’s tongue. Glistening against his piercing.

And he takes it. 

Surprisingly, hypnotically takes it. 

He groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he mouths in that tiny piece of strawberry candy back. You hear the crunch! of it underneath his teeth, kissing you even deeper to show off how he’d swallowed every tiny shard.  

Curling his legs around your form, it’s all it takes for his gaze to drop half-lidded, chest panting - heaving - he smiles a dangerous curve of his lips against yours. 

Sharp teeth glinting against your own, he chuckles. “I think we’re gonna have a lot of fun, dontcha think, brat?”

You can only take it when he rolls his yearning hips up into yours. You feel so dizzy at the massive outline of his half-hardened cock underneath you - solid, thorough inches girthing upwards against your heated cunt. 

“But first-” His teeth bite down on your lower lip, and he pulls. “-think m’gonna hafta hah- teach ya to be a good girl f’me.”

Clang!

All of a sudden, the heavy ripping of metal rings across your dazed head - and Sukuna’s just tearing apart his durable metallic handcuffs as if they were made of nothing but paper.

“What-” you gasp rubs over where the tough restraints had rubbed his skin redly raw, oh he just basks in all your sputtering disbelief. “You could remove it- but- but that was special grade?”

“Ya really thought a pile of trash like that would keep me put? Of course, I could fuckin’ get out, don’t be silly, woman.” He quirks a slitted brow with genuine confusion - almost as if he was offended at the very thought. And before you know it, Sukuna’s throwing away the useless pieces of junk towards a nestled corner of the cell - hitting exactly on the bullseye of that damn CCTV he hated so much. Both of you watch when it topples brokenly to the ground. He hums, low and sultry, “I just hadn’t found a good ‘nough reason until now.”

Almost immediately, his hands are on you. Everywhere. Anywhere.

Coaxing such pretty whines out of you when Sukuna ravages along every inch of your body, large calloused palms kneading down your tits, your waist, grabbing a handful of your ass. 

“Ohh- this s’the life.” he groans, all ten of his thick digits squeezing and teasing you. He’s leaning down to nip lightly at your ear lobe, “Almost makes me forget what a naughty girl ya actually are.”

“I’m not-” you answer immediately, but it comes out much more breathless than you intended and both of you know that. 

“Oh yeah?” Sukuna jostles the two of you so that you’re fully laid out across his hulking body now, and you’re squirming already - desperately trying to wiggle your hips down to where he was throbbing. To glide the sopping wet place between your thighs down his rock-hard erection. For this, you’re gifted with a branding slap! on the curve of your ass, Sukuna holding you firmly in place. “Doesn’t explain why you’re already s’fuckin’ wet like a slut, my pretty baby.”

You lick up the tattoo on his chin, “But- but Kuna-”

Another needy grind - another smack.

“Now what did I jus’ fuckin’ say?” he hisses, and the primal rasp in his tone just makes you drenched. 

And Sukuna notices - of course, he notices. Drunken red eyes widening, oh, he could almost feel how fucking soaking you were through all those clothes. Too many clothes, in his opinion.

Which is why he has one hand fisting furiously at your smart uniform shirt, not a single word or apology uttered before he just shreds it right off your heaving chest.

“Oh my god-” you squeal, your hands coming up to clutch at the tatters of fabric and your badge. And your lips pout out in such a way that makes his cock just twitch, mumbling out stubbornly, “That was my new uniform-”

“S’what happens when ya get too greedy like this.” His knees raise up a bit more to rub your glissading cunt along the very curve of his fat tip. Just dragging your dripping cunt all along his bulging dick, reveling in the sticky schwf! schwf! schwf! of wet fabric. Sukuna gives an impatient tug on the fabric of your pants, “Now get rid of this before I tear that off, too.”

You couldn’t shuffle out of your belt and trousers fast enough. And oh, even that wasn’t enough for Sukuna - dazedly flinging off what remained of your shirt, your bra, before turning his eyes downwards and-

“Oh, good girl.” he whispers at the sight of you in nothing but your flimsy excuse of panties. So soaked -  translucent, even - your saturated juices making such a glossy mess at your inner thighs. He can’t help but flick at the tiny bow on your underwear, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Such a good girl, aren’t ya?”

“K-Kuna-” you’re barely even thinking at this point, panting. “Wan’ to feel you–”

He’s tittering a breathy moan disguised as a laugh at this, bringing up a hand to cup your cheeks. “Awww, my pretty baby wants my cock?” he coos, squeezing in two of his thick fingers between your lips.

But if Sukuna was looking for an answer, then he doesn’t wait for it. 

A spit-glossed pout finds its way to his lips, mocking your own. And fuck, he was such a little tease. One hand giving your ass another slap! just to watch you whine and pretend that it didn’t make your pussy even more embarrassingly wet - shit, he was having fun. The other pulling out from inside your mouth, delicate strings of spit snap when he’s gliding his coated digits down, down, down-

“Oh-” you tuck your trembly head into the crook of his neck when Sukuna drags his thumb just across your puffed-up pussy lips. Slowly. Tantalizingly. 

“Oh?” he huffs out, licking his lips at just how steamingly wet you were inside. So ready for him. “‘Oh’ is all?” 

Sukuna plants another lingering smack on your ass, and by now you’re sure by now he’s left the bumpy imprint of all five fingers on your flesh. Tracing between your swollen folds gingerly with just the rounded tip of his finger up and down up and down. He gets greedy. 

“Damn brat-” And it’s all the warning you get before he just forces two of his fat fingers into your messily throbbing pussy. Rubbing all around your tightly quivering entrance, “S’what I get for spoiling you too much.”

There’s no hiding from the way he stretches you open so obscenely, having your sloppy hole just gaping around his digits. All wet and cozy inside.

“Oh- m-more-” you mewl. 

But he only continues rubbing saturated little circles around your teasing entrance, humming hotly against your lips. “Hmm, dunno. Think we hafta teach you some manners, silly girl.” And each of his fingers were so thick, stretching out the channel of your cunt until your mouth watered. Your body was limp, hips stuttering down softly into his hold - trying so uselessly to fuck yourself back down onto him, as if he wasn’t easily holding you still with just one beefy arm around your waist. “How about a ‘please’ first?”

You scramble to dig your nails into his bulky deltoids, tracing around his circular tattoos peeking out. “P-please!”

“Nuh uh-” he snickers. “No stutterin’”

“Please!”

Sukuna pretends to think for a few syrupy slow seconds. He nips down softly at the sensitive spots on your neck, having you trembling like a feather in his vice-like grasp. “How about a ‘pretty please’?”

And oh, he grins at the way you’re almost on the verge of tears at this point, your pouty lower lip wobbly with effort. Trying so desperately to comply with the demands of your inmate, you buck your hips so that the soft mountains on his palm graze against your clit. Whimpering, “Wh-what if I w-walked away right now, Kuna?”

“My my, resorting to threats?” he’s whispering filthily in your ear. “Now I know you’re bluffin’ woman. Because I hngh- also know-” So smug when he tugs down the soft cotton of his pants just enough to let his achy cock spring free. “That you’re gonna stay n’ beg f’me like the good girl you are.”

And you hated that he was right.

You hated that he was so big. 

Hefty girth slapping up onto his abs with a wet smack! Sukuna’s red, rounded tip was so thick that you could feel your thighs clench, swiping up a glossy glide of precum onto his t-shirt. Drip! Drip! dripping along the crevices of his veins and down to his eager balls, those tufts of pink at his base. All his solid inches winked up at you glisteningly in the harsh cell light. Just waiting. Throbbing. 

It made your mouth water. 

So you finally answer, voice strained and breaking at the very end. “I- I wan’ you really badly, Kuna.” He sucks in a breath when you bat your teary lashes up at him, “Pretty please?”

“My good girl.”

At this very moment, the only other response you get is a sensual, slow drag of his fingers out of your cunt. The exact opposite of what you wanted - because, of course, this was Ryomen Sukuna. You whine, clawing desperately at his wrist to try and reel him back.

But he doesn’t stop. Can’t stop. Almost hypnotized in the way he brings his drenched fingers up into his mouth without a second thought. Sukuna moans at the taste. A glossy trail of your messy slick forms down the corner of his slurping mouth, and he throws his head back with a guttural, “Oh fuck- s’sweeter than any of that hah- candy.”

Ah, that did it. 

Only milliseconds later, you’re being spread all flat on the floor with one swift shove of Sukuna’s big arms, panties sliding easily down your shivering thighs. It really doesn’t take much to have your dangling legs splayed out across his sculpted back, his own body shuffling down ravenously to come lips-to-lips with your puffy pussy.

And oh you can feel his smile against your dripping wet cunt, half-lidded eyes boring right up into yours. Long, pinkish tongue lolling out like he was utterly fucked - and if you angled your head just right you could see the way he was deftly spreading both of your swollen folds, the very tip of the hot muscle kissing wetly against your sloppy entrance.

“Shiiiit-” your fingers tangle themselves in his rusty pink hair. Hips jittery and bucking up drunkenly against the cool surface to chase his hot mouth. “Oh- ngh- Love havin’ your m-mouth on me- ngh-”

“Gettin’ all mouthy w’me, huh? Aren’t ya embarrassed to be absolutely ruined like this by a criminal like me?” he huffs out a bout of raspy laughter. “S’all because you decided to be a- fuck- a good- girl f’me, that’s- what.” Struggling to even get out coherent sentences because he didn’t want to part from your pretty pussy. Instead kissing all over again and again-

The bulbous metal stud of his tongue piercing thrashes up so filthily against your hot clit, coating the sensitive nub in all of his heady, swelteringly hot saliva.

And the only time you’re registering Sukuna break away just mere inches is to spit. Once. Twice. 

Thumbing across the stream of see-through spit he just grins up at you in a way you knew to be a pussydrunken expression. Glassy eyes almost drooping shut, tiny dimples cratering at the very ends of his lips, the entire lower half of his face covered in a shiny sheen of slick. Drip! Drip! Drip! right onto the middle of your shamefully spread cunt. 

“Ya got me thinkin’ I’d wanna live out my entire life sentences jus’ for a taste of this pretty pussy, woman.”

Roughly lapping with his tongue against your clit, each one pulling out crashing waves of white-hot pleasure that make you all but sob when Sukuna unabashedly adds in his fingers past your gummy hole.

“You can take it-” he hushes out uncharacteristically soothingly into your inner thighs, peppering soft, open-mouthed kisses along them. “Take ‘em f’me.”

Sukuna isn’t shy about immediately dragging his fingers along your sopping wet folds. Starting up a ruthless, simpering pace thrusting inside and out of your drooling entrance has you whining.  

“Oh.” your mouth slack-jaws open deliriously, and for the second time tonight you feel like you’re being absolutely split-apart on his thick fingers. Splaying out a hand to glide across your tummy, “You- hngh- you already feel s-so deep, Kuna.”

Your words were cracking with a whimper each time he’s delving into your gushing depths. Building you up, wringing you taut with pleasure whenever he picked up the pace. Alternating between harsh sucks on your cunt and the absolute meanest of swipes against the spongy placeholders of your sweet spots. 

“Already?” he has the audacity to cackle - cackle right in front of your teary face. “M’barely even f-fingering this pussy n’ you wanna talk about deep- lemme show ya-” He spares not even the tiniest ounce of mercy when hauling your boneless body even closer. Brows furrowing at the knocking of his chin at the very base of your cunt, the way his jaw grinded. Sukuna replaces the hand on your stomach with his own free one, guiding it up, up, up until your eyes widened and you could feel your breath tightening in your chest. 

“Here.” Drawing a burning, imaginary line about halfway through - “Here is where my cock s’gonna be so ya better get- better get ready for that, pretty baby.” Looking right in your eyes, Sukuna’s tone is laced with a vicious sort of snarl when he plows on, “Because my good girl s’gonna be able to take it.”

And you’d heard of the type or orgasms that leave you speechless, that leave you so blindsided that you don’t even realize you’re having them.

Because it takes only a few more expert tweaks of Sukuna’s lengthy fingers up against every nook and crevice of your. Scissoring, swirling - round and round until he was dredging up your dizzying orgasm. 

“Oh my god- I think I’m-” your words are garbling together pathetically, wet and as unsteady as each jolt of electricity running down your spine. “I’m-”

“Cumming.” he’s cutting through, tugging you by the thighs even closer to make out impossibly deeper with your convulsing pussy. Rolling his eyes, “I know I know, just shut up n’ cum all over my mouth would ya?”

It’s not like you could do anything else. 

And - as a little punishment - your grip tightens searingly on his scalp, just dragging your drooling pussy all over his pretty features. Letting yourself gush all down his tongue in a steady trickle while you ride him to your heart’s content. 

“Heh- getting so fuckin’- hngh- fucking greedy, aren’t ya?” he mutters out over wet slurps. Still hammering in the pads of his fingers to press up harshly into your bulging sensitive spots. “S’alright. Use me then, use me-” 

Your back arches almost painfully, vision tinging with slight black at the edges, and it’s as if you were out of control at this point. 

“Now now, what do you think you’re doin’ huh?” he feeds into each of your stuttering, slick glides down into his palm while you come down from your high. Eyes narrowing down at you, “And here I thought you were turnin’ into my- hah- g-good girl. Where are those hands going, huh?”

Shit, you didn’t even realize it at first.

Your hands are wandering so sluttily down to where his thickened base was just twitching in his lap. Aching to wrap your trembly fingers wrapping around him - struggling to even close. 

“Oh- oh my god.” your eyes widen after a few sloppy drags of your soft palm down his length. Curving it slightly to the side at the sight of another one of his signature ringed tattoos - right around his fat base. “You have another tattoo here?”

Sukuna clenches his jaw, hips rutting upwards at a sloppy staccato in synchronization with his hands and yours. “Yeah- n’ I already know you love it-” he shudders out, chest panting. “-because I can already feel just how much wetter ya got- shit-”

With all of his almost-inhuman strength, it’s almost too easy for Sukuna to drag your body downwards to his like some silly little ragdoll. 

“Kuna–” you’re dragging out in a breathy tone. Your hands shakily tugging on his t-shirt - your mind finally clear enough to realize that he was still fully clothed while you bare and fucked-out already underneath him. “Wan’ this off-”

Smack!

“Forgettin’ your place, aren’t ya, pretty baby?” he growls, but fuck did Sukuna think you looked so utterly gorgeous like this. All pouty and teary, letting out the cutest whines while you waited for him to do exactly what you said. 

And, well, he might be the notorious king of curses, the most wanted criminal in all of Japan - but that didn’t mean that Sukuna was any match for you. 

“M’only listenin’ because you were so f-fuckin’ good f’me hngh- earlier, brat.” he spits out. Hastily ridding himself of both that paper-thin t-shirt and pants - not tearing, you note with slight disgruntlement. Kissing your ass with another smack of his palm for good measure. You wince when he flicks your forehead, “So ya better not let it get to that pretty lil’ head of yours.”

But fuck, was it so difficult not to. 

Sukuna was so mouth-wateringly gorgeous, all sculpted muscle and what looked to be miles upon miles of tanned skin that you just wanted to bite into. And you realize - with a jolt - that when those other inmates rumored he had tattoos everywhere - they weren’t lying. Thick, circular rings that highlight his bulging biceps, those toned thighs as far as your eye could see. 

Now you really understood the fan mail.

Smack! Smack! Smack! 

Those drippingly wet smacks this time didn’t come from Sukuna’s hands on your ass - instead, it was from calculated, purposeful little slaps of his thick cock onto your clit.

“Heh, as much as I love to have my- ngh! my cute lil’ officer ogling me-” His hand coming up to curl around your throat, forcing you to peer downwards. “-I’d rather you look where it r-really matters, silly girl.”

He sounded so proud - barely lucid already at the very sight of your tight, glistening hole kissing up against his fat tip. 

Dragging a thumb down your wet slit to grin at the size difference even further, he purrs, “Yeah…this pussy has been givin’ me a real treat tonight. Might as well give her one back, hm?”

And he’s so big, so full that you can’t even whine out anything coherent when Sukuna sinks into your sloppy cunt inch by fucking solid inch. Pushing past that ring of feeble resistance, your pussy was greedily swallowing up every bit of his massive girth. Letting out the cutest squelches that make him moan. 

“Oh- would ya look at that?” he bares his teeth in a devilish smile. Head thrown back at how you’re already clamping and trying to milk him with your velvety walls. “Takin’ me so well, ya really are such a good girl, huh?”

Each and every hoarse little praise is panted raggedly against your ear, and your pussy slides up and down his swollen shaft in a sultry back and forth. And Sukuna just can’t tear his eyes away from the way your cunt swallows him up so greedily - so frantically like you were trying to milk something delicious out of him.

“Kuna- hngh!” your thighs quiver up and down. Hips moving in slow gyrations against how he was rummaging all inside you. “Y-you’re stretching me out so good ah-”

He’s still trying to squeeze inside, still pushing and pushing. Pressing a hand down on your stomach, “Told you I’d be right-” Bottoming out. Hard. “-here.”

Each and every juttering ram into your gooey depths have you keening, and his eyes growing even wilder. Grin curling upwards at how every kiss of the very tip of his rotund cock has your spongy cervix bouncing into him, your walls pulsing where he swipes inside. Looking for-

“Fuck!”

That. 

“Heheh- hope ya can take it, brat. Because once I start-” he presses hot peck after peck down your jaw. “I can’t stop.”

You learn very quickly that that wasn’t a threat - it was a promise. 

Every plunge into your melty pussy has you almost bawling, because Sukuna wasn’t gentle - no, he doesn’t even ease you into it. The soft curve of his head presses in so harshly against your bulging g-spot, so thoroughly in rough, wet glides. Each single hammer upwards sinking against wherever drove out the prettiest moans from your pouty lips, having you such a shaky mess underneath of him. 

Exactly how he’s  been wanting you this past year in confinement.

“W-what-” you sputter out, dragging your nails across his neck to mash your lips onto his. Tasting the candy and you and the candy- “This past year?”

Oh. Shit. 

“Heheh- did I say that out loud?” Sukuna rumbles, struggling to catch his breath while he swallows back each keened-out whimper threatening to break out from his lips. He gives your tongue a slow, tasteful suck. “Whoops- hah fuuuuck- you see what this pussy does t’me?”

He brings one large hand down to your jittery hips, the other drawing a tender stripe across your still-sensitive clit. That heavenly feeling just makes you clench, and Sukuna to throw his head back with a withering groan. “S’fuckin’ dangerous- you’re more fuckin’ dangerous than me- hah-”

You giggle at the way he was running his mouth now, sentences slurring together like he couldn’t even find the words. 

“You see this-” he pants, so sensitive that Sukuna can’t help but tuck his face into the crook of your neck. And you feel the burning flush of his cheeks, the way he brings your hand up to pat his plush pec, thumping thunderously underneath his heated skin. “-got me fuckin’ crazy here- ngh! M’on my knees for you n’ you’re all here actin’ like such a good girl.”

As he babbles, Sukuna actually falls back onto his knees. 

Dragging you right along with him to spearhead his cock vertically into your snug channel, his powerful thighs are thrusting up, up, up-

“Oh-” You’re wrapping your arms tightly around his neck when faced with another stinging smack! And this time he takes the opportunity to roll his fat thumb even deeply against your clit. “S’so-”

Sukuna’s eyes were half-lidded now, grumbling out little profanities into your mouth. “What? Can’t even speak now?” He chuckles - but it sounds higher-pitched, breathless like he was fucking losing it. “Doesn’t- ngh- doesn’t matter- this cunt is speakin’ ‘nough for the both of ya. Why dontcha act like my good girl n’ ask what she’s sayin’?”

God, your face burned with such mortification - and it’s all you can do to dart a bleary look towards that smashed CCTV camera once more. Gulping out a breathy, “Wh-what is she ah- sayin’, Kuna?” over those deafening squelch! squelch! squelches. 

He positively beams, “She’s saying…” Nipping down on your lower lip, tasting that familiar strawberry on your tongue. “-that right about now she’s gonna cum.”

And sure enough, a particularly harsh clashing glide across your g-spot has you sobbing, has you twitching - it has you cumming. Over and over all over Sukuna’s relentless cock, and not just that-

“Shit, woman.” Sukuna stares, jaw-dropped in awe at the absolute mess your overwhelmed cunt was gushing out. Coating his erratic thighs in a wet gleam of all your juices, it seeps into his skin, dripping down the curve of his legs and onto the padded floors. “Fuckin’ squirted all over me, you’re fuckin’ ah- unreal- fuck–”

If he couldn’t maintain that gruff tone of it that’s because he was genuinely in heaven. Mouth watering, achy cock twitching up into the cushiony sides of your walls once. 

Before he’s shooting such a sloppy load into your already-messed-up pussy, dumping out thick volumes of seed again and again. It sloshes in all over your insides with every quivering wave of your own orgasm, seeping out from the edges of your sopping slit. Slobbering. Overspilling. 

Sukuna grunts, feeling you shift gingerly up and down to milk each of his stringy ribbons of cum, leaving sinful dredge after dredge that paints a creamy white ring around his base. 

“Fuckin’ wastin’ it-” he’s jeering, plugging in one of his indexes into your already fully-stuffed entrance. “Better keep that shit all inside- m’not gonna let my good girl waste it, m’kay?”

“Mhm.” you nod, your drowsy body leaning heavily into his. And Sukuna wraps both his strong arms around you to just pin you to his body. “Might jus’ be the best Halloween I’ve ever had-”

“It fuckin’ better be or so help me-”

SLAM!

“Yo, King of Curses~” both of you snap your heads over to the sudden intruder that’d just crashed the bolted cell door open. He was tall, enveloped by the harsh light from behind - but you could make out those features anywhere. Any guard in this prison could. Throwing over a heavy leather jacket Sukuna’s way, “I tried to wait until your pillowtalk was over but Nanamin can only hold off the bastards on morning shift for so long. So ah chop chop, Suguru’s already waiting for us.”

Gojo Satoru.

Leader of Six Eyes, foe of Ryomen Sukuna. 

Looking at you like he wanted to positively devour you, “Or, well, if your cute lil’ officer’s coming, too, then we could continue this when we get back to the hideout. Don’t you think, sweetheart~”

And Sukuna, oh Sukuna was scowling ever so slightly at the other’s words - but he only had eyes for you. “So, whaddaya say, brat?”

---

In the hazy haven of the surveillance room, Nanami lets out a deep shudder. Head thrown back against his leather chair, he takes a few bleary moments to collect his breath. 

“Fuck…” he groans, placing that small handheld camera monitor on the table. A secret one. One that no one working in this prison building - and least of all you - knew about. All of that had been an accident, really - an unintentional part of the plan. But the way that Nanami has to drag his boxers upwards, zipping his uniform pants back up wasn’t. 

Taking a steadying gulp, he throws away that soiled tissue. Fingers punching in a few numbers on his phone, all according to his rehearsed script. “Yes, hello?” watching the monitor unwavering. Unsurprised. “We might have a situation.”

A/N. *BAM* hits you with random plottwist.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[inbabylontheywept]

i once accidentally dated someone for a few months. its very difficult to explain how this happened, but the gist is that i thought we were hanging out, and she thought we were on dates, and it was just a very painfully highschool thing.

she was a little bit confused that i hadnt tried to pull any moves, at all, even a little. like, didnt even try holding hands because, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating.

so, halloween rolled around, and she thought, you know, why wait for destiny, when you can grab it? so she hit me with a clue by four.

babylon, she said. babylon. my mom's gonna be out of town on halloween, and im gonna have the house to myself, and it's going to be kind of lonely. would you like to come to my house and watch scary movies with me?

you know, kind of a netflix and chill thing. except, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating. also autism. so i took it at face value and said: oh! yeah! thatd be fun! and she thought she got her point across, but she didnt and it was a mess.

skip forward to halloween: my family has a block party every year, right? and at that point i was too old to really trick or treat, but we still wore costumes for our role in the block party, which in my case, was handing out cotton candy. so i took the first shift, and my costume was this homemade abomination minion thing. i had full yellow body paint, and goggles, and a bald cap, and overalls. the kids who saw it were like, uh, hm. overly realistic minion. and adults were like, oh, some kind of hills have eyes hillbilly with jaundice. very scary.

(it was not my best costume.)

my little brother swapped me out for second shift, and i was getting ready to change out to head to her house when i was like: no, she'll get a real kick out of this. this is one of the worst things i have ever worn. so i kept it on and just brought a change of clothes thinking i could shower real quick and change at her place after she saw my nightmare getup.

so i left after that, got there, knocked on her door, and she said come on in. so i went in, and there was this very long hall with an abrupt right turn into her living room where the tv was, and i went down the hall, and i made the turn, and my field of view went from beige drywal to her, on the couch, naked. naked in the paint me like one of your french girls pose. super naked.

i panicked. this was my first time seeing a real person like, full on sex naked,which is a totally different beast from other kinds of naked. you see one kind of naked and you think yeah, im ready for all the kinds of naked, but you arent. i wasnt at least. i really wasn't.

so my brain crashed to BIOS. she also crashed to BIOS, but for different reasons. of all the ways this could have turned me, having me show up in yellow body paint and overalls was pretty pretty low down the list.

so we sat there a while, and you know, she wasn't getting any less naked, which really wasn't helping me get my brain sorted out. it really wasnt much of a surprise when she got her bearings first and started asking questions.

"babylon," she said. "babylon. what are you wearing?"

and i was like, kind of rebooted, but i was nowhere near full functionality, so symbolic language wasnt loaded in yet. i had nothing running but my trusty autism.exe, so i said

"overalls"

and she looked at me like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked at her like she was the first naked person i had seen in real life who got naked specifically for me, and my upper level cognitive process went: "listen man, we are not going to get our shit together as long as 80% of your brain power is devoted to not blinking. you gotta get out of here."

and if id communicated that, maybe things would have been less of a mess, but instead i just kind of turned around and walked back to my car. i figured i could drive a few loops around the block, get my brain in order, and figure out what the hell we were gonna do.

the only thing i had said to her since arriving was, again, overalls.

first loop around, i was like: oh god fucking damnit. oh shit. oh shit. shes gonna get like, an eating disorder from this. oh no.

second loop around i was like: oh NOOOOO oh WHAT THE FUCK oh SWEET JESUS PLEASE. i dont wanna go back man. i just wanna bury this and forget about it. please. please. let this bitter cup pass from my lips.

and after my third loop, i went and i knocked on her door again.

she answered it this time, and i counted my lucky stars that she'd changed into some pajamas. she was all teary eyed which was the saddest thing ever, and we sat down in her kitchen and talked. it was pretty bad - i figured out we'd been dating, and she figured out that trying to jump from home plate to 3rd base is considered ballsy in baseball, least of all dating. no real winners there. and i can remember after all that, we sat there a bit a bit longer, just steadying ourselves, and i was like "well, im actually really glad we figured that out. guess i'll see you at school tomorow' and she said "WAIT. wait."

"lets watch shrek 2."

so we did and it was horrible. we did not look at each other. we did not say a word. we just sat in stony silence, while shrek 2 played in the background, and when it was done we shook hands. i think we might have been able to salvage that as a friendship if it hadnt been for shrek. as it was she turned white as a sheet and ran away every time she even got a glimpse of me at school, and that summer she moved to a new state to live with her dad. all her friends said she moved just so she wouldn't have to go to school with me anymore, and i dont actually think they were lying.

every time i hear relationship counselors talk about how important communication is, and i'm tempted to roll my eyes, i look back and go, alright. alright. theres probably some poor bastard, somewhere in the world, who doesnt even know that hes married.

and god help him when he figures it out.

other bad dating story here.

[fatherbrat]

ONE LAST TIME, R. SUNA

sum. two months into your relationship with your current boyfriend, your ex-fwb finally sends you a voicenote to let you know exactly how he feels about it.

feat. rintaro suna

cw. ex-fwb!suna, cheating, mutual masturbation (kinda lol), jealousy, dirty talk, anal mention, pillow humping, possessiveness, degradation

wc. 1.2k

When you posted your first official pictures of you and your new boyfriend, you had expected Suna to react…negatively. You basically braced for impact the moment you hit post, but all you got from him was an Instagram notification and two texts.

sunarin liked your post.

rin ;)

lmk if you want me to delete our pics.  and hmu when you two break up :p

You never bothered replying, initially not sure how to reply, and then forgetting about the texts entirely. The two of you barely have any contact for a few weeks after that, but he's obviously keeping up with your socials; liking every post and viewing every story. It doesn't bother you, but it's weird going cold turkey on your relationship like that. You had expected him to reach out for some sort of closure. You wanted him to. 

Halloween swings by in no time, and (much to you boyfriend’s dismay) you dress up as a sexy nurse. You don’t remember much of the night, but you do know that you posted a picture of you and your friends all dressed up on your story before getting blackout drunk. 

Your phone dies early on in the night. Your friends take good care of you up until it’s time to bring you back home, and you don’t wake up until the afternoon. You don’t check your phone until a couple hours after that—long after it's been turned on and charged to 100%. 

When you finally check it, two particular notifications catch your attention. 

sunarin liked your story. 

rin ;)

Voice Message

The voice message is 12 minutes long. 

You exit your texts immediately, opting to distract yourself by tending to your other notifications. It doesn’t help much. Your mind races, wondering what he was talking about for so long and if it was really so important that he reached out after almost four months of near-silence. 

You toss your phone onto your bed, shaking your head. You try to ignore it, cleaning the bathroom and folding the laundry and vacuuming the living room all in an effort to forget about the lengthy recording sitting in your phone. 

But it doesn’t take long for the curiosity gnawing at you to win. 

You practically run back to your bedroom, grabbing your phone and sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Your fingers move quickly across the screen, hitting play without hesitation. 

The first 8 seconds are nearly silent, and you start to wonder if it’s possible that he sent such a long message by mistake.

But then you hear a heavy sigh.

“I like your costume.” His tone is hushed, like he’s telling you a secret. “You look hot.”

There’s another moment of silence, like he’s giving you a chance to change your mind and stop listening. 

But then Suna moans and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. 

“You never answered my text, y’know. When I asked if you wanted me to delete our pictures. So, uh, I kept ‘em.”

Oh. 

Oh fuck.

“I’m looking at one right now. It’s from last Halloween. When you-“ His breath hitches. “When you went as a Playboy Bunny.”

You remember. Suna dressed as Hugh Hefner and the two of you went to a party together. Then he took you back to his apartment and fucked you while you were still wearing the bunny ears and bowtie. 

You’re pretty positive you’re not wearing the bodysuit in the picture he’s looking at. 

“I don’t know how much of this night you actually remember, but I can describe the picture for you.”

You tense, anticipation sending goosebumps up your arms. 

“You’re kneeling on the ground, looking up at the camera, and you’ve still got those bunny ears on your head.”

This voice message is going in the last direction you thought it would.  Is he—?

“You’ve got cum all over your face, baby.” He laughs to himself before continuing. “And you’re sticking your tongue out like a fucking whore.”

Suna takes a ragged breath, a sound you're all too familiar with. It confirms your suspicions—he’s definitely jerking off. 

“That was a good night. We had a lot of good nights.” He sounds miffed all of a sudden. “I seriously doubt the boyfriend is fucking you as good as I did.”

You suppress a shiver. A pang of guilt heats your chest at the mention of your boyfriend. You should stop listening. Delete the message. Tell him to delete the pictures and then probably block him. 

Or you could let the message keep playing. 

Suna inhales sharply, followed by a shaky moan. You swear you can hear the sound of his fist stroking his dick. 

“I hope you’re not letting him put it in your ass like you let me. That’s our thing, okay?”

Under different circumstances you would have laughed. 

“Fuck,” he hisses. “And I hope you’re not letting him spit in your fucking mouth. Or–shit–doing that thing where you’d suck me off with your head hanging upside down off the bed.” He falters at the end of the sentence, groaning into the phone.

“I’m not gonna–” he interrupts himself, sighing deeply. “I’m not gonna pretend I’ve been happy for you. I miss you.”

You feel hot all over, a heady combination of annoyance and arousal and embarrassment. There’s a dull throbbing between your legs and in the back of your mind you wonder if this is what Suna wanted when he sent the message. 

“Just–just let me fuck you one more time. Okay princess? I’ll make it sooo good for you,” he whines. You can hear his hand picking up speed.

“It’s still early. Two months is nothing, it won’t even count as cheating.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “God, just one last time. Please?”

Without thinking, you grab a pillow and position yourself over it in a straddle. You won’t let him fuck you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make you come one last time.

“I promise I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue. And you can pick all the positions if you want to.” There’s a tremble in his voice. “Or just lay there. I’ll do all the work.”

You grind into the pillow beneath you, picturing the expression you know he’d be wearing if he were in front of you–batting those dark eyelashes with raised eyebrows, just barely able to control the smug curve of his lips.

Heat pools in your gut and a whimper falls from your lips. Suna keeps talking.

“I know you miss me. You have to. You’re probably touching yourself to this right now.” 

You gasp softly and rock your hips faster.

“Such a fucking slut.” You hear the telltale quiver in his voice that tells you he’s getting close. “My fucking slut.”

You moan, his words giving you flashbacks.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, I’m coming,” he rasps, before letting off a series of moans and whimpers that almost make you concede. You grind harder into the pillow beneath you, imagining Suna in his room, chest heaving, talking into the phone and making himself come to pictures of you. 

That does it. A tsunami of pleasure washes over you, forcing your body to tense before you go limp, collapsing onto your bed with a shudder.

You and Suna breathe in tandem, both of you catching your breath. 

You hear another laugh through the phone. “Damn, that was a lot.” There’s the sound of sheets rustling. “Kinda made a mess, princess.”

He’s silent for another few beats before clearing his throat. “Text me, okay?” he says quietly. “Please.”

The voice message ends.

part two

[sunni-stuff]

Part 1 This is part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

With the train ride now over, the sergeants ran, scouring the market for two familiar faces. Their footsteps in sync, crunching delicate mounds of white snow. Soap broke through the crowd first, then Gaz and Gary were right with him.

“Where the hell are they?” Gaz pants out, his breaths misting in the cold air.

“You said the marketplace,” Soap huffs.

“Yeah, I said the marketplace, but it's not like I know exactly where they went!” Gaz snaps back.

While the two sergeants bicker, Roach quietly breaks away, scanning the area until he spots the familiar figures they’d been hunting for. Price and Ghost stand outside a cigar shop, deep in conversation. The satisfied grin on Price's face tells Roach everything—he got what he was after.

“They’re over there!” Roach exclaims, snapping his partners out of their lovers' quarrel.

Gaz and Soap go silent, their eyes following Roach’s line of sight until they, too, spot their Lieutenant and Captain.

In a heartbeat, the three of them are sprinting toward their unsuspecting targets. Soap grins like a madman, practically buzzing with mischief, while Gaz shakes his head, both amused and slightly wary of what might unfold. Roach, meanwhile, is simply thrilled to be along for the ride.

They skid to a stop right in front of the two men, chests heaving as they catch their breath in the biting winter air.

“The hell is wrong with you lot?” Price’s voice cuts through, laced with a mix of annoyance and bemusement as he shifts his attention from Ghost to the winded sergeants.

Ghost, arms crossed, eyes them with quiet scrutiny. His winter coat does little to conceal his bulky frame, a silent reminder of his imposing presence as he stands beside Price.

Price and Ghost waited for an explanation, knowing well everytime those three got together, they were definitely up to no good.

Like how they put semi-permanent green dye in Ghost's shampoo for Halloween.

“We… we saw. A kid with your face,” Gaz manages, still catching his breath, pointing straight at Ghost.

Ghost raises a brow, baffled. A kid with his face? What the hell did that mean? Did they think he looked like a baby?

Soap huffs in mock disappointment, shooting a playful glare at Gaz. “Oi, I wanted to say it!”

Predictably, the two dive into another back-and-forth. Gaz isn’t one to shout, but Soap has a talent for riling anyone up.

Price lets their little show go on for only a moment before his stern voice cuts in, slicing through their bickering. “One of you properly explain, or you'll be walking back to base.”

Roach steps up, eager to clarify. “There’s a kid, probably about two, and she looks exactly like the Lt. Scowl, glare, and all!”

Price and Ghost pause, their expressions twisting as they both try—and fail—to imagine a little girl with Simon’s permanent scowl.

Price shudders, shaking the thought from his head. “That is not a face a kid should have.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Gaz chimes in, nodding emphatically.

Ghost throws him an offended look, his usually hardened eyes showing a glimmer of hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” they all exclaim in unison, even Price, who quickly averts his gaze as Ghost’s glare narrows on him.

Ghost huffs, then crosses his arms. “Did you take a picture?”

Soap snorts, leaning against the wall with a smirk. “Aye, right, 'cause that wouldnae be creepy at all.”

Ghost stares daggers Into Soap, rolling his eyes and pushing himself off the wall. “Okay, then where is she?”

The three stooges lead the charge once again, this time with their Captain and Lieutenant in tow. They weave through the crowd toward the train park, where Soap eagerly scans for the woman and kid he’d spotted earlier. But the line they were in is empty, the pair nowhere to be found.

“Shite. I think they’re gone,” Soap mutters, his Scottish accent thickening in his frustration, the words rolling out with a clipped bite. 

“So the imaginary woman and kid don’t actually exist,” Ghost deadpans, unimpressed.

“They exist!” Gaz insists, voice edging on exasperation.

“Sure,” Ghost replies, his tone flat and thoroughly unconvinced.

Roach snickers, then glances over at Price—only to see him staring slack-jawed through the window of a nearby café, his cigar dangling from his mouth, forgotten.

“Cap?” Roach says, touching the older man’s shoulder.

Price doesn’t look away, nodding toward the café. “Found them.”

Everyone turns toward the café, eyes landing on you and Adira. The little girl is happily weaving between your legs, her tiny hands gripping your coat as she entertains herself, all while you order hot chocolates to fend off the winter chill. A soft smile touches your lips as you watch her play, blissfully unaware of the audience gathering just outside.

The barista, with a warm smile, hands over two cups, one with a little extra marshmallows for Adira, her voice bright as she wishes you both a merry Christmas. You take the cups with a grateful nod, handing one to Adira. She immediately takes her drink, sipping eagerly, her small feet bouncing on her heels from the sugar rush.

“Yummy?” You ask, glancing down at her with a soft smile, a wave of motherly pride swelling in your chest as you watch her delight in the simple joy of her drink.

Adira nods eagerly, her eyes lighting up as she pulls away from her straw with a satisfied sigh. “Yummy.”

With a soft chuckle, you both leave the warmth of the shop, stepping out into the crisp air. Hand in hand, you walk back toward the park, the world around you feeling peaceful despite the cold. As you reach the crosswalk, you stop, waiting for the light to turn. Adira looks up at you, her little face filled with contentment as she swings your joined hands back and forth, her sugary energy still buzzing.

Across the way, the team stood frozen, unable to look away from the scene unfolding before them. Everyone but Ghost was struck by how much Adira looked like him—her features unmistakably mirroring his, save for the color of her hair and skin. The resemblance was uncanny, and for a brief moment, it felt like the world had stopped around them.

“She looks nothing like me,” Ghost stated plainly, his voice cutting through the stillness as though it were fact. His expression was unmoving, a wall of stubbornness in his eyes. He was ready to die on that hill.

Then, as fate would have it, a woman walking her dog passed by, and Adira’s cherub-like face hardened into a cold, calculating stare. It was subtle, but unmistakable. 

“Nevermind,” Ghost muttered, his earlier conviction faltering as he watched her shift before his eyes.

“So… you’ve been having fun these past years?” Roach asked, his gaze flicking between Adira and Ghost, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Not that I know of,” Ghost grunted, his eyes still locked on you and Adira, a mix of unease and something else flickering across his face. He couldn’t pull himself away.

“Let’s get closer,” Price commanded, already making his move. Soap and Roach exchanged a shrug, falling in line without hesitation.

“Excuse me?” Gaz sputtered, though his body had already begun moving before his brain could catch up, unable to defy the Captain’s order.

Ghost fell silent, teeth gritted. This wasn’t a situation he was used to, especially not one where he was forced to go in blind. He stood stiffly at the crosswalk, trying to hide his glances, his focus split between the team and you.

Soap ended up the closest, standing just next to Adira. The little girl paused, her big, doe-like eyes lifting from her drink to catch sight of him. The recognition was instant. Her lips pursed into a small line, and her gaze grew heavy with annoyance. 

“Ugee…” she whispered, scooting closer to you.

Soap froze, his mind stuttering for a moment. Did she just—? Did she call me ugly?

Gaz, standing behind him, couldn’t contain himself. A muffled laugh broke through as Soap turned to look at the others, wide-eyed and speechless, completely taken aback.

“Do ye lot think I'm ugly?” Soap asked, his voice thick with disbelief, clearly thrown off by the little girl's words.

“Not the time, Mctavish,” Price said, a tiny laugh tugging at the corner of his lips despite the situation.

The streetlight flickered green, signaling it was time to move. You adjusted yourself, ready to cross the street. Each member of the team started mentally preparing, unsure of how—or even if—they should approach you. Ghost, however, was the first to make a move, determined to intercept you. But Soap, ever the opportunist, beat him to it.

Ghost wasn’t exactly subtle, and having him try anything would probably send you running in the opposite direction.

“Excuse me, aren’t you the lady from the train?” Soap called out, his voice light, though his intentions were clear.

You paused at his interruption, recognition flickering in your eyes. You remembered the man who bumped into you earlier. “Yes? Is something the matter?”

“Do you happen to know where I could find Leslies?” Soap asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice, though he tried to mask it.

“The pub?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Soap confirmed, his face lighting up with a mix of relief and surprise at your easy response.

You look around for a moment, trying to remember and see the street names of your current location. “Uh…it should be about a couple blocks south from here. They have a big sign, you can't miss it.”

Thank God for Soap, because that one question was all he needed to keep you trapped in a conversation, his charm working its magic as you giggled and chatted away easily, the awkwardness of the situation melting away.

Meanwhile, Ghost’s attention shifted to Adira. He looked down at her, and she, almost instinctively, looked up at him. Their eyes locked in a silent staring contest, each of them studying the other. The intensity in their gaze was undeniable, both sets of eyes reflecting the same quiet, unwavering strength. It was like looking in a mirror—a mirror that mirrored back his own hardened stare and no-nonsense attitude.

Adira was, quite literally, his mini me. The resemblance was impossible to ignore.

“How old are you?” Ghost asked bluntly, his voice low as he kneeled down to Adira’s height, his gaze intense but trying to soften.

Adira paused for a moment, glancing up at you for help, but you were still caught up in conversation with Soap. She turned her focus back to Ghost, her small fingers fidgeting with the hem of her coat as she murmured shyly, “Two…”

She was two. Two. Ghost’s mind raced, trying to piece together the details, but nothing clicked. Nearly three years ago… what had he done three years ago? He kept everything categorized, stored in his mind like a well-organized file system, but this was something that didn’t fit.

Then, Soap’s voice broke through his thoughts. 

“You don’t seem like the type of lass to frequent Leslies.”

You giggled, a soft blush creeping up your cheeks at Soap’s question. He wasn’t wrong… at least, not entirely. “I’ve only been to Leslie’s once, and, well… it’s how I ended up with my little blessing.” You glanced down at Adira, the warmth of your smile radiating as you spoke.

Everything shattered in that moment. Ghost’s stomach twisted painfully, his heart skipping a beat as the realization slammed into him like a freight train. Leslie's. Almost three years ago, during that stupid holiday.

His mind began to piece it together, the hazy memories from that night slowly coming into focus. He remembered the bar, the laughter, the way you had caught his attention. You were easy on the eyes, easy to make laugh, and most importantly—unlike everyone else. You didn’t ask questions, didn’t pry, you just let him lead, let him slip into the night with no strings attached.

But now, as he looked at Adira, everything fell into place. The way she stared at him, those familiar eyes, the resemblance he couldn’t ignore. His breath hitched, and the weight of the truth crushed him—she was his daughter.

A knot formed in his throat as he tried to process the fact. Adira. His daughter. The little girl standing before him was his flesh and blood, the result of a moment he'd long since buried in the depths of his mind.

---

Taglist: @auradaniela98-blog-blog @cumsluut @unstqblecvrses @moraxnomora @serafina-nyx @sage-burrow @skylarmitchell @xx-wal1flower-xx @n-y-x04 @gluttonybiscuits @imahugenerdlol @wehrgabriel @blackhawkfanatic @tazuduck @soxocs @jingyuansspouse @cutiecusp @sleepyoriana @forgottensomewhere @puppylikethedog @spongelistener @caged-birdies-blog @bubblegirll26 @misscaller06 @fuckbananas03 @watu2ka @yukisdelusional @redroserabbit

[cxlrose]

once ir reached 3am im gna plsay ml

[rainrot4me]

My Muse - Halloween Special

Summary: What if the Creepypasta characters were real life killers idolized the same way horror movie slashers were? Kids dressing up as Ghostface or Pennywise? More like kids decorated as Jeff the Killer or Slenderman! You chose to dress as your favorite mass murderer, Ticci Toby- and, oh, how he couldn’t get enough of it. He had never seen someone look so good in his goggles.

Characters: Ticci Toby x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Vaginal, fluff and smut, fluff, vaginal fingering, handjobs, use of a condom, slight stalking, slight obsession, praise, alcohol, slight bullying, Jeff being a big brother, slight miscommunication, slight panic attacks, decompression, Toby is obsessive but we knew that, first time?

Tag: #rainykinktober2024

Words: 12k

A/N: Happy Halloween everyone! This work is based off of @h3llw1’s request made a while ago that I felt fit perfectly with a good spooky special! I will tag the request! Please be responsible and have fun tonight and this weekend!

Find the original request for this story here!

“Wait, so… Who are you dressed up as, again?”

You shuffled the goggles off of your eyes, pushing them onto your forehead and messing into your hair, turning back to your friend.

“Toby Rogers- y’know, that kid who burned all those houses down? Serial killer, dude.” You smiled awkwardly, turning back to your vanity mirror and pressing the makeup brush against your cheek, trying to recreate the infamous cheek gash in the image you had pulled up. You were almost done, detailing the fake teeth at the corner of your lips. “Was really obsessed with him in middle school…”

“Oh, right.” Your roommate, Avery, rolled her eyes, curling the strands of her hair into big voluptuous rolls, making sure each piece looked nice under her hat. She was supposed to be Strawberry Shortcake, you think, it was hard to tell with how little she was wearing of the actual costume. It was really more of a bikini topped off with a strawberry hat.

“You’re still planning on going to AJ’s party, right?” She chirped, flipping the curling iron off and lying it on the counter, reaching back to grab her phone. You paused, giving yourself a once-over in the mirror- your costume really wasn’t the ‘AJ’s party’ type. You turned around in your chair, a little overwhelmed with how messy your bedroom floor was, but promising yourself you would clean it up later tonight.

“Uh, sure- If you guys are still going.” Avery tapped away at her phone, your own lighting up with text messages to your group chat sent by her. You were waiting on the rest of her friends, some people she had become close with in her classes.

It would be fun… you hoped.

“Oh, they’re here.” Stepping out of your room, you followed her to the front door, making sure your makeup looked good in the mirror. Standing on your front step, the rest of the group was there, chittering their excitement as Avery swung the door wide.

You stood awkwardly as they all hugged, complimenting each other on their matching costumes- the other two girls were supposed to be Orange Blossom and Blueberry Muffin, but they more or less matched with Avery’s.

They each had a guy with them, the tallest one wrapping his arm around your roommate’s shoulder, the Ghostface costume he had on making her all giggly. You cringed, fidgeting with the hem of the hoodie you had stitched to look like Toby’s, the stripes on your sleeves were the hardest part.

“Oh! This is my roommate [Y/N], she’s gonna come with us tonight.” You nodded, giving a small wave as they all turned to you. Brushing your hair behind your ear, they all smiled sweetly, but you could tell they were a little put off by the outfit you were wearing.

“Ah, what’re you dressed up as?” The Ghostface guy chuckled, shuffling his mask up to get a better look. 

“Oh- uhm, Toby Rogers? Like, that serial killer. Yeah.” None of them had a clue, you could see it in the weird glances they cast at one another. Avery waved them off, jingling through her keys to pull the door shut and locking it behind you. “We should get going, I don’t wanna miss anyone.”

Nodding, everyone began to walk down the hallway of your apartment building, the guys carrying six-packs of beer under their arms. Sighing, you followed behind, taking the fabric mask from under your chin and pulling it over your mouth.

You would try to have fun tonight, you swore it.

-

“Listen, kid, if you don’t hurry up I’m leaving you here.” 

Jeff crossed his arms, a scowl on his face as he watched poor Sally try and adjust her costume. Toby shoved him, kneeling beside her and reaching back to tie the little bow around her waist, casting a nasty look at the killer.

She was dressed as Annabelle, the creepy dress splattered with fake blood, making the real blood pooling from her forehead look like nothing more than some face paint. Her hair was tied into two neat little braids, Nina’s doing. Sally turned to look at herself in the reflection of EJ’s truck- Jeff had stolen it for the night, claiming he wasn’t going to walk all the way into town just for some candy. She finally nodded, holding her little basket tight in her hands.

This was her first Halloween, with Jeff of all people, so she was a little anxious. The killer, on the other hand, found this holiday to be his favorite. He could waltz the streets of the small town closest to the mansion, hood down and everything, snagging as much candy and compliments as he wanted. People really admired his ‘makeup.’

Toby decided to tag along this year, curious to see all the costumes and jack-o-lanterns. He really loved this night as a kid, he wanted to make sure it was good for Sally, too.

“I’m ready now.” She hummed, skipping forward to wrap her hand around Jeff’s hoodie sleeve, the killer rolling his eyes as he began to walk. Toby followed behind, admiring the decorations and darkly colored leaves littering the ground, a surge of excitement coursing through him. It felt just like one of those older scary movies, the sun dipping just low enough to cast an orangish hue across the clouds, kids running around giggling and screaming, parents tossing out candy left and right- he missed this feeling, what it was like to be normal.

He was older now, officially ‘candy handing-out’ age. He used to relish these days, promising that he would dress up for Halloween until he was sixty- now he had much more important things to worry about than what costume he was going to wear. If only his younger self knew how much of a genuine horror his life would become.

“C’mon, twitch, I ain’t waitin’ on you, too,” Jeff called, snapping Toby out of his trance as he watched kids race across the road, some mother yelling about being careful. He nodded, pushing his mask up over his nose, shimmying his goggles off of his forehead and over his eyes. He was still too paranoid to go outright, the covers made him feel more secure, like fewer people’s eyes were boring into him. He felt that swell of anxiety, having to remind himself that people would be far more concerned with Jeff’s look than his. Shoving his hands into his pocket, he took a deep breath- he had to calm down.

He wouldn’t lose himself tonight, he swore it.

-

“Wh- What’d you get?” Toby helped carry Sally’s basket, the thing nearly overflowing with how much she was getting, everyone was loving her costume. They were nearly done with this neighborhood, but Jeff heard some kids yelling about a Baptist church’s trunk-or-treat, and he was more than excited to show up somewhere holy. It was getting late, the sun almost nearly disappeared, so Toby knew it was almost time to wrap things up.

“Lots’a chocolate. Jeff keeps stealing the good stuff, though.” Glancing up, the killer was popping a tiny box of nerds into his mouth, tossing the cardboard onto someone’s yard when he shrugged his shoulders. “You’ve got like, six more of ‘em- you’ll be fine, squirt.”

It was turning out a lot better than Toby had thought, the brunette’s worries nearly washed away as the night grew more crowded. Jeff had spotted some middle-schooler dressed as Slenderman, the killer nearly doubling over in laughter as Toby hauled his phone out to take a picture. The brunette had forgotten just how popular their boss really was, more of an internet spectacle than folklore now. A meme? Yeah, his big scary boss was a meme. Tim and Brian were going to get a crack out of it. 

Teenagers were out now, older kids walking in packs with their friends, not so much worried about getting candy as they were trying to hide the alcohol they were carrying. Toby had forgotten just how much different Halloween was when you got older- girls dressed in skimpy outfits of cartoon characters, guys trying to play cool as some movie slasher chasing everyone around, and then you had the ones who just didn’t dress up at all. It was weird.

“Damn, when did Strawberry Shortcake lose the baker getup and start wearing lingerie?” Jeff snickered, crossing his arms and nodding towards a group across the street. Toby scanned them, the orangish tint of his goggles obscuring them, but he could easily make out who the killer was talking about. He gave the rest of the pack a once-over, their outfits more or less the same as guys clung to their hips, flirty little touches as they all walked.

He almost missed it though, the one in the middle of the group, unaccompanied. Jeff must’ve seen it at the same time because he was slapping Toby’s arm like crazy.

“Oh fuck, isn’t that supposed to be you?” Toby shoved his goggles off of his face, ruffling them into his bangs just like how you had them, looking utterly bored as your group quickly began to get out of his eyesight. The brunette looked down at himself, wearing that same hoodie that every popular image depicted him in, the stripes on his sleeves the telltale sign. There was no mistaking it, you were dressed up as him.

The brunette didn’t know how to feel, didn’t even really know what to say as Jeff’s teasing went unheard beside him. He couldn’t peel his eyes away, couldn’t stop his hands from flexing and fidgeting with utter excitement.

He had to get a better look at you.

“Hey! Where are you going?!” Jeff yelled across the road, Toby shoving the candy basket into the killer’s hands and jogging in the direction your friends were going.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later! Don’t wa- wait up!”

He disappeared into another block, Jeff letting out an exasperated sigh as he took Sally’s hand. “C’mon, kid. We’ve got some Baptists to freak out.”

-

It was already loud inside the house, music thumping against the walls as people tried to shout to hear one another. 

You hung against the wall of the living room, sipping slowly on whatever alcohol-filled punch they were serving in the kitchen. People were spilling out everywhere, the front yard just as busy as the rest of the rooms of AJ’s house.

It was barely even 9 PM, but nearly everyone from your school was here, familiar faces passing by with glances or cheesy small talk. Avery and her friends had disappeared into the crowd near the speakers, couples dancing and talking with one another, the pulsing neon lights, cheers following every finished game of beer pong, and the atmosphere heavy with vodka and laughter. It was nice, a little overwhelming, but nice.

You could feel the buzz in the back of your head, the tipsy dizziness you held making it a little easier to relax, the music swaying your hips gently.

You couldn’t see through the crowd, but Toby rested his shoulders back on the wall across from you, tapping his fingers across his thigh as he surveyed the crowd. He didn’t even have a drink, awkwardly trying to pretend like he was supposed to be here amongst the buzzed-out college kids.

He had followed you there, staying a comfortable distance behind your group and out of your curious eyes. It was hard not to notice the way your eyes lingered on the houses you passed, smiling at the kids who ran by, and pointing out the overzealous house decorations. You really stood out from your group, a sore thumb from the rest of them. 

What was he doing? Why was he even here? Following some girl because she was dressed as him? Toby knew he was popular, Ben reminding him every time some new post went up on the internet trying to debunk his whereabouts. It didn’t bother him, with his job came weirdos who idolized him- he had just never seen it in person before. 

It really was surreal. 

“Oh my god.”

Toby shot up, straightening as he looked to his side, panic sweeping over him.

Lost in his thoughts and the rush of the party, he hadn’t noticed you pushing to his side of the room, shuffling past to get back into the kitchen for more of whatever you were drinking. You had your mask tugged down under your chin, the facepaint on the left side of your cheek standing out against your flushed cheeks. You even had torn tissue paper to make it look realistic- God, he was going to freak out.

Holding your hands out, you look down at yourself and then at him, comparing your almost identical outfits with a bright smile. “Nice costume, man.” 

Of course, you were cute. He was trying to register you, eyes flinching across your sweet face smiling up at him.

Toby teetered, shoulder flinching just enough to make you glance, but not enough to take the excitement away from your face. He also realized he was just staring and not saying anything- “Oh! Yea- Yeah, hah-” The cool metal of his mask pressed against his cheeks, staring oddly at the fabric one you had.

“Oh damn, you’ve got like- the legit facemask. I just got mine from Spirit, it’s pretty crappy.” You laughed to yourself, holding the solo cup awkwardly in your hands, fidgeting with the lid. Toby immediately regretted his decision, wracking through his brain for some way to get out of here- he forgot how painful small talk was. “I didn’t know anybody else even knew who Ticci Toby was.”

God, that nickname. The play on words was supposed to be funny, but its holder didn’t think it was all that humorous. He smiled at you anyway; there was just something about the way you said it, all giddy.

“Ah, yeah. Mine’s pre- pretty old.” He was fidgeting again, unprepared for how you snuck up on him. “I, uhm, tried my best. Haven’t re- really dressed up in a while.” You complimented him heftily, pointing out the ‘fake’ dirt and blood stains across his hoodie, the great quality of his goggles, and even how he got his makeup to that weird milky-gray skin color. To you, it was just a very well-done costume. 

“No, I get it. I don’t usually go all out like this,” Looking down at yourself, you put on sort of a blush, nervous chirping about how niche it was. Toby couldn’t help but smile. “I just have always really loved his story, so I wanted to make one of my last Halloween’s memorable, y’know?” Ah, candy-handing-out age. A million thoughts ran in the brunette’s mind, but he found himself relaxing again, shoulder pressed onto the wall as you rambled. “I’m just glad I’m not the only one who likes him.”

With you, this close, cheery little features continuing to blab on about the rest of the small details of your own costume, he couldn’t help but find himself listening so intently. A fan? Is that what you were? It felt weird to think about it like that, but the brunette found himself blushing at the thought of an admirer.

“-And I fringed the bottom of his hoodie with a lighter. It was hard to get it to look right, but I really liked how it came out. Y’know, for like him burning his house and stuff- I thought it was a nice detail.” Toby was nodding along, surprised by the little burn holes near the pockets of your lookalike hoodie, the attention to detail far more than he was expecting. “That’s really cool, uh-”

“[Y/N].”

“Uh- Toby.” Was that going to give it away-

“Even got the name down too, huh? Man, I see why you dressed up as him- you fit everything to a T.” He relaxed, your obliviousness laughable, but also a heavy relief.

People brushed by, bumping into both of your shoulders and shimmying their way through. You refocused again, pointing back over your shoulder with a shy smile. “Would you, uh, wanna get some more to drink? I was going anyway-”

Woah- You were inviting him to hang out longer? He was about to refuse, come up with some weird excuse to get back to Jeff and Sally, but the way you gleamed up at him, flashing lights and overstimulating music, it felt so odd.

He was going to let himself give in. He was wearing a ‘costume’ after all, so why not play up the act and enjoy himself a little bit? Slender would have him out running these woods by tomorrow, so why not just take the night and at least pretend like he was still a normal kid? Like all those bad things never happened, being a proxy never happened… He was just a kid who grew up, spending Halloween how normal teenagers did now. Yeah, he was going to let himself have this one night if nothing else.

Toby nodded, pushing off of the wall as you led the way, pushing through the mess of wildly dressed people into the kitchen. Behind you, now, Toby could see the way you still stood out amongst everyone, odd glances being cast in your direction. Just like him, almost, a freak in a sea of hateful eyes. You get it.

“I don’t really know what this stuff is, but it tastes pretty good.” You laugh, flipping the nozzle of the jug holding whatever concoction was mixed with red Kool-Aid, pouring some into two cups. You handed it to Toby, the brunette awkwardly swirling the liquid around with a nervous stare. You giggled at him, wrapping your hand around the sleeve of his hoodie, and guiding him out the back door and onto the patio.

The atmosphere was much calmer than inside, the muffled thumping of whatever song was playing giving a nice rhythmic atmosphere as you sat on top of the stairs leading out into the backyard. You both watched friends and couples dare each other to jump into the pool, the chilly autumn air guiding you to believe the water wasn’t much warmer. Toby sat next to you, mask still snug on his face, revealing nothing for your curious mind.

“So, Toby, what’re you doing here?” You sipped lightly on the drink, contrasting flavors of vodka swirling in the fruity punch, the sting of alcohol making you cringe. Toby hesitated, still tapping his fingers on the side of the plastic cup, trying his best to calm his rushing nerves.

“Uhm- well, y’know… Halloween par- party stuff…” Even though you had taken notice of his stutter ages ago, you forcefully ignored it. You knew better than anyone about nerves, you didn’t want the poor guy to feel any worse about it. Still, his answer made you laugh.

“You’re not supposed to be here, are you?” You smile as he shakes his head, leaning back to glance up at the sky, the moon hanging bright and casting a milky glow across the clouds. Toby really enjoyed it when it was like this, made it easier to see where he was going at night. “That’s alright, I don’t really belong here, either.” You enjoyed the moon because it was pretty. Same worlds, different perspectives.

“How come?” Toby leaned back, too, kicking his legs out as he relaxed, easing into the conversation. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “I only came because my roommate invited me, I didn’t really want to come. These things aren’t really my deal.” You took another sip, Toby taking in every inch of your face, studying every detail as you spoke. “I would’ve much rather gone trick-or-treating. I guess we’re all a little too old for that now, though, huh?”

The breeze ruffled your hair, wrapping your knees in tight against your chest as the air chilled you. Toby caught himself admiring- it was almost like you were wearing his hoodie, the top just a little oversized on you- he could imagine it. “Nah, I used to love it. Wish it wasn’t we- weird to go when you got a certain age like there’s a time lim- limit on when you can ask for candy.” He smiled, flinching his leg a little.

Toby felt his phone buzz in his back pocket, leaning over to dig it out, flipping the screen up to see a text message from Jeff.

“wtf r u?????” “party. dont wait up.” “😡🖕🙄”

Just to make sure, Toby shared his location with the killer, flipping his phone off and shoving it back into his pocket.

You gave him a sideways glance, smacking him on the shoulder playfully. “You haven’t even drank anything- at least try it. It’s not all that bad.” Clearly, considering you were throwing the cup back to finish off presumably your second glass.

Toby awkwardly cupped his hand onto the metal of his mask, sliding it down below his chin. Thankfully, he had remembered to get EJ to redo the bandages on the corner of his mouth, the gaudy wound becoming irritating to deal with. He wishes it was just cool makeup like yours.

Taking a sip from the cup, he cringed, brows knotting as he shut his eyes. “God- That’s like- straight vodka with fru- fruit syrup- Fuck-” It burned his tongue, your laughter so sweet beside him, resting your hand on his shoulder. He made a funny face, fake gagging on the terrible thing.

He sat straight when you gasped, cupping your hands onto his cheeks and turning his head forcefully. His instincts kicked, hands flexing to grab at you, to slam you down across the pavement below- 

Until you were rubbing your thumb across his bandages gently, flattening out the ends that had become soiled with dried blood. Toby forced himself to relax, his heart thudding in his chest with adrenaline. No one usually got this close- touched him- unless they were clawing for their life. It was like a whiplash, having to condition himself differently for your ignorance.

“Dude, no way you’ve been hiding these all night! Fuck, even these look real- how in the world are you so good at dressing up?” You were taking in every detail of his face, assuming the scars across his lips and cheekbones were merely good makeup skills or a talented friend, Toby trying his best not to freak out with you this close.

You seemed to notice it too, because you were snapping your hands back, eyes blowing wide-

“Shit- sorry- I get real excited about these things… The drinks probably aren’t helping either.” You chuckled, awkwardly sitting back and tucking your knees against your chest, silently cursing yourself for making him uncomfortable with your weird obsession. Toby noticed it, immediately catching the switch-up in your attitude.

Holding his palm out, he levels it in front of you, catching your attention. “I’ve, uhm, got the weird hand bandages, too.” He sheepishly smiled, watching as you slowly lit up again, taking his hand between your own.

“No way…” You picked at the medical wrap clinging around his hand, little bandaids and medical tape snugged tight around his fingers to hide the terrible bite marks and scars he had given himself, that gaudy proxy symbol etched into his flesh. He wanted to compliment your makeup, to say something about how realistic it looked-

Until you both heard a piercing scream from across the patio.

“Tyler!”

Snapping your gaze to the noise, you watched as a tall jockey guy hauled a tiny blonde girl over his shoulders, taking two heavy steps before he jumped into the pool, dragging her along with him. Toby was concerned but was quickly caught off guard when you began to laugh, slapping his arm.

“Avery! Are you okay?!” The other girls on the side of the pool knelt down beside the water, reaching their arms out to help the poor girl back onto solid land. They quickly had a towel wrapped around her, and the guy, Tyler, hopped up onto the side, high-fiving the similar-looking guys accompanying them.

You were still laughing, Toby smiling even when the girl came over to the steps, hurriedly trying to get back inside.

“Ah- [Y/N]? Who’s this?” Your roommate gave Toby a once-over, casting a sideways glance as she noticed you both were wearing the same outfit.

“Uh, This is Toby- we’re dressed as the same thing, see?” You were all cheery, smiling up at her even as she dripped water everywhere. Toby recognized them now, the skimpy group you were walking with, the ones who left you alone almost immediately after getting to the party. You tried to act like it didn’t hurt you, but the brunette had seen it all, catching every time you longingly stared at them through the crowd- the way you still did now.

“Right… Well, I’m glad you guys found each other,” You could hear the sarcasm in her voice, her friends hanging behind her and giving you both funny looks, whispering to one another as she talked. Toby knew you noticed it, too. You were pressing your knees against your chest again, shriveling up into yourself. “Look, we’re leaving. Probably going to finish the night out at some bars if you want to head on back to the apartment.”

You began to nod, giving Toby a half-glance of defeat, taking your empty cup in hand as you began to stand up.

“Uh- Ac- Actually, we’re going trick-or-treating. So, don’t wa- wait up.” Toby stared daggers into the girl, unapologetically snagging your hand in his as he stood, taking his cup in hand. Avery watched him with a sour look, glancing back and forth between you two before stepping up the rest of the stairs. “You two have fun, then. Freaks.”

She definitely said the last part louder than she meant to, because her friends were giggling as they trailed behind her, quickly scuttling into the crowded house. You rolled your eyes, trying not to let it show, but the pang in your chest was heavy.

Toby looked at you, took a firm grip on the solo cup, and closed his eyes. You watched with bright eyes as he chugged the rest, throat burning as he groaned, crushing the cup in his fist and tossing it behind him. You smiled, forgetting that your hand was still tucked neatly into his as you both raced off the patio, pushing through the fence gate, and climbing out onto the road. The street lights were on now, kids dwindling as houses stopped handing out candy, but Toby was determined to get you some.

“Are we actually trick-or-treating?” You laughed, Toby dragging you along with him, pulling his mask back up and over his nose. “Dude, we’re like, totally too old for this stuff, now-”

“And? Just cause I’m older doesn’t me- mean I stopped loving candy.” He hollered. You clung against his side, the breeze pushing through your hair and giving your nose a cute little blush, eyes bright with excitement as you gripped his hand tighter. You tugged your own mask up, shimmying your plastic goggles off of your head and over your eyes, completing the entire look. Toby stalled, heart whirling in his chest as you raced down the sidewalk, excitement buzzing in the air.

Jeff was going to kill him, but it would be worth it.

-

“Trick or treat!”

You held out a plastic Walmart bag, the thing nearly busting with how many pieces of candy it was holding. You both had meant to stop five houses ago, but when you somehow wound up in the nicer neighborhood four blocks over, you couldn’t pass up the full-size candy bars they were giving out.

The tipsiness was really hitting now, you both holding onto one another as concerned glances from parents dumping the rest of their candy into your bag. You always hated those obnoxious people who laughed or talked too loud in public, but now, you found yourself doubling over, cackling at the mean comments Toby was dishing out to little kids’ costumes.

“Tha- That’s supposed to be Spiderman? Yeesh.” It wasn’t even that funny, but you nearly hit your knees from lack of air, laughing so hard that your chest was hurting. Toby’s eyes were heavy, neck jerking and body twitching from the overstimulation, his cheeks a rosy color from the swirl of alcohol in his bloodstream.

“Okay, okay,” You raised up, catching your breath as you leaned against his arm, the rusty smell of his cologne surrounding you. “I think if we get any more- hic- we’re gonna be picking all of it up off the ground.” You pointed at the sack, the plastic stretching and threatening to bust out everywhere. Toby nodded, reaching in and snagging a Hershey’s kiss, popping the sweet chocolate into his mouth. You acted offended, holding the bag close as you both laughed.

The streets were nearly empty now, most of the houses’ lights being turned off and decorations unplugged, the only sign of activity from cars driving by or random groups of kids racing back home to review their hauls. You could feel your own room calling to you, your intoxication pulsing sleepiness into your mind.

Toby noted when you yawned, taking that as a silent sign that the night was ending, preparing to part ways with you. He nearly reached back into his pocket, going to give Jeff a call to come pick him up.

“Wanna go back to my place?”

He paused, your heavy eyes grinning up at him.

“Uh- What?” He could feel himself blushing. Was it just the vodka? He hoped so.

“Well, I ain’t gonna eat all of this by myself. Besides, I’m not trusting myself to get back without crashing out in a bush somewhere.” Toby laughed, rolling his eyes as you waited for his answer, shifting your weight nervously. You smiled when he nodded, your arm quickly wrapping around his and dragging him down the rest of the street.

Reaching over, he took the bag of candy from your hands, stuffing it under his arm. You walked slowly, taking in the dulled-out character inflatables and oversized skeletons in people’s yards, pointing out the Spirit Halloween animatronics that you found so cool. He couldn’t help but find himself staring, encapsulated with you. You found such beauty in what everyone else found offputting, admiring what even he would call strange.

“You’re so weird.” He huffed with a grin.

You glanced up at him, rolling your eyes. “You like it.”

Toby couldn’t find a good answer, turning his attention back to the street lights out front. He did like it. 

“So, I never asked about you- Like, really. What do you do when you’re not wearing the best Toby Rogers cosplay ever?” Toby glanced at you, stalling out mentally as he tried to come up with something.

“Uh, I travel a lo- lot. Kinda like an on-call thing. Uhm… Yeah.” You nodded along, but the brunette wasn’t entirely sure you were hearing what he was saying. You were just looking at him, eyelids hanging low as you took in every detail of his face. He smiled, reaching his free hand to tug your mask down under your chin, your sly grin hidden underneath.

“Tell me abo- about you, [Y/N]. What is Ms. Rogers doing when she’s not ob- obsessing over me?”

Toby paused, a dead stare into your eyes as he choked on his words. He slipped up- Did you notice, would you care? He could feel the panic rising in his chest, jerks twinging at the back of his neck, anxiety swelling-

“Woah, easy tiger-” You’re giggling, pushing the strands of hair that fell in your face when you did an unbalanced little bow. “Didn’t know I was in the presence of such a celebrity.”

Toby was already relaxing, shoulders untensing faster than they wound, trying his best to settle his shaky hands. “But, I don’t know. I’m in between jobs? School?” You fidgeted with your hands, your arm still wrapped tightly around his. The weight was comforting. “I’m only still here because it’s where I grew up, but I don’t know what I’m doin’ now…” Your stare was distant, fidgeting with the fabric of his sleeve as you talked. 

He was about to say something, trying to muster up some affirming speech that Tim used to tell him when things got rough. But you were tugging him off of the sidewalk, skipping towards some apartment complex building. “We’re hereee…”

He followed you through the neat hallways, the stout smell of clean and tacky air fresheners strong on the brightly colored carpet. Toby didn’t know if he had ever been in a place so nice, dozens of doors lining everywhere you went, feeling like he could get lost if you weren’t dragging him into an elevator.

Pressing your floor button, he leaned back against the brassy walls, your hands rummaging through your pockets and hauling out a set of keys. Cute little keychains were hooked onto the loop, reaching back into your pocket for your phone, swiping across the screen.

“Here, smile-” You were leaning back against him, holding your hand high in the air to take a selfie, Toby grinning goofily up into the camera. Looking over the picture, you smiled, never moving off of his shoulder as the elevator took you up, Toby’s heart soaring much higher.

-

“How many of those are you going to eat?” You gasped, tossing another Skittles wrapper onto your floor, adding to the mess that you swore you were going to clean up.

Alternatively, you were lying on your back, laid out on your even messier bed, stuffing your face with possibly the most unhealthy amounts of sweets. Toby sat on the floor, his back pressed against your footboard, rummaging his hands through the sack and tossing pieces up to you. 

He looks really good in just a t-shirt, you thought, catching yourself staring at his toned shoulders.

“As many as I want.” He grinned, popping another jawbreaker into his mouth. Your twin pairs of goggles and masks lay scattered on the floor, hoodies bunched at his feet. Toby was in bliss, the sweet smell of your perfume and clothes soaked in all around him, pieces of you everywhere he looked. Posters of your favorite bands, corkboard full of keychains and polaroids, even your wall-mounted TV playing some older murder mystery documentary. He loved how normal it felt, how comfortable, and different.

In his mind, he could see you going through the motions every day, the boy longing for even just a taste of that. In the way you admired his weirdness, he admired your normality. Same worlds, different perspectives.

“I’m officially cutting myself off until Christmas.” You huffed, climbing off of the bed and staggering to your vanity. Toby watched as you fiddled through your makeup, popping open the box of makeup wipes and taking one out. Pushing your hair behind your ears, you began to wipe the design on your cheek off, rubbing the wipe over your eyes and cleansing your skin of the fake deep-set eyes. The brunette was lost, mesmerized by how your rosy cheeks looked so sweet in the warm light of your bedside lamp, eyes brighter than ever.

Sitting off your chair, Toby sat up a little when you grabbed another wipe, kneeling next to him. “Your turn.”

He stuttered, glancing from your now-clean face to the wipe in hand, nervousness creeping up in his throat. The wipe was cold, pressing it against his as you tried to clean him off, Toby watching through worried eyes when your face started to contort, confusion heavy in your features. “Dude, like, none of this is coming off. What kind of makeup did you use?”

“Hah- Uh, the good stuff, y’know?” He could tell you weren’t convinced, scrubbing just a little harder on his cheekbone until the grayish skin became littered with red irritation. You sat back on your heels, cupping the side of his cheek with your free hand, running your thumb across the skin under his eye. Toby flinched, your other hand coming up to cup the other side of his head, eyes tensed in focus. 

Fuck, here it goes.

“This isn’t makeup, is it?”

Toby cringed, refusing to look you directly in the eyes. His fingers flexed, the outline of his pocketknife pressing against his leg, a silent reminder. He didn’t want to do it, God, he silently begged not to, prayed for you to brush it off so he could get out of here. The room felt so small now, your closeness becoming increasingly irritating the longer you stared.

But the brunette knew that if you reacted how everyone else did, with panicked screams that would have your curious neighbors come knocking, he knew what he would have to do. Even someone as awestruck as you couldn’t keep him from the inevitable.

He clenched his jaw when you dropped your hands, parting your lips like you wanted to say something, but getting tangled in your own thoughts.

“[Y/N]. I’m- uhm- I’m him, okay?”

You just kept staring, “I get it, your costume was good- okay? I don’t-”

“No, I’m not- Jeez,” He slid his hand up the side of his thigh, finally forcing himself to look at your confused face, eyes snagging onto every detail. “I’m Ro- Rogers. Like- Toby, Toby Rogers… I’m Ticci Toby.”

Tapping his heel on your carpeted floor, the brunette waited, collecting every twitch of your eyes or shaky breath that you took. He was ready for the yelling, the panic, taking calculated measurements in his head of just how many steps it would take for you to get to your bedroom door. He had done it a million times, ended someone’s life a million times. He would force this time not to be different.

His hand flexed around the indent of his pocketknife, ready to flip the metal open as you sat up onto your knees.

Your hands moved slowly, following the same motion you had been making all night, but this time it was more meaningful. Toby flinched as your warm fingertips brushed along his jaw, wrapping gently around his cheeks as you said nothing, the brunette trying to keep the floodgates of panic from cracking open in his mind.

That’s when he felt your fingernails picking at the bandage on his cheek, pinching the edge, and slowly, carefully removing the sterile cloth underneath, the fabric spotty with dried blood. Toby let his eyes shut, his facial wound now on full display, slowly ticking the seconds of silence by in his mind, relishing in the fleeting feeling of his ‘normality.’

He was a fool to ever think he could have something so nice-

“The pictures on the internet do not do you justice.”

The rush came to a stop, eyes slowly flinching open as he looked at you, his brows knitted in confusion. “What?”

“There’s these pictures on Twitter, really blurry, but still- of you. They don’t make this thing look half as cool as it really is.” As if to confirm it for yourself, you brushed your thumb across the edge of his skin where the flesh broke off in torn tissue and exposed the side of his gums. You watched to see if he would flinch, carefully pressing the softness of his cheek to watch the skin stretch and move- it was real.

Toby watched as you sat back, setting your hands down in your lap. It was strange how the brunette found himself missing the warmth of your touch, already.

“Toby… Toby… How the fuck did I not see it sooner?” You repeated his name over and over, rolling the syllables off your tongue and stapling them in your mind. “How did I not notice? I’ve seen your face a million times.”

Toby could barely register any of it, his heart thudding a mile a minute as you carried on like everything was normal, more angry with yourself for not noticing it was him than anything. It was almost a blur as you scooted forward, leaning in close to wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him in so gently. 

He could feel himself melt, hand unraveling from his knife as the panic dissipated, the sweet, lovely smell of your perfume heavy in his nose. He had to be dreaming, he thought, slowly coaxing his hands around your back and pulling you in closer, forgetting the last time he had even had a hug at all.

But then it ends all too quickly, your hands pushing back on his shoulders, a panicked look in your eyes.

“I must seem insane.” And then you’re standing up, running your hands through your hair, pacing back and forth across the messiness of your bedroom. Toby shakes his head, standing off the ground, reaching out to you. “I’ve been going on and on about you all night- I must seem so psycho and crazy. This is so embarrassing- What the fuck?” 

He’s grabbing your arms, pulling you back over to the foot of your bed, and sitting you down, an exasperated smile on his face. He was so worried about you freaking out or becoming terrified that he completely forgot who you were. You had been rambling about him all night, unknowingly complimenting the boy right to his face, and Toby was scared you wouldn’t like him. Just like how you’re worried about looking crazy, embarrassment flooding your face as you hide your palms in your hands.

“[Y/N], lo- look at me.” He tugs your hands away, sitting beside you on the bed, leaning down so you’re forced to look at him. You nervously hold his gaze, face so red and flustered, he’s smiling at you like a little kid. “It’s cute.”

And then you’re flopping back onto the bed, screaming into your hands as Toby laughs, running his hands through his hair.

Is this what it’s like? Teenagers hiding out in their rooms, casting sheepish glances at one another all night until one of them cracks, everything flooding out. He should be taking a priority, getting the hell out of your room and out of your life before he gets mixed up with something he can’t pull himself away from. But the flirty touches, teasing, and everything else that got him here clouds his judgment.

Then you’re sitting back up, scooting closer, and throwing your arms around his neck, abandoning every thought he was just brushing over in his mind. He holds you close, your face hiding in the crook of his neck, taking uneven, steady breaths as you try and rationalize it all, before giving up. “I’m sorry, Toby.”

And now it’s his turn to be confused, leaning back to look you in the face. “For?”

“Everything. The things even I couldn’t have controlled, the things that made you this way- Nobody’s probably ever told you before, so I will: I’m sorry. I’ve studied your story so many times, went over every detail, ran your perspective in my dreams- but even still, I can’t possibly imagine.”

The brunette can’t feel pain, he doesn’t understand the cut of a knife or the sting of a bullet. But the pang that snags in his chest, this heavy weight that feels like all the pain he's ever missed out on- that hurts worse than anything. But looking into your eyes, his hands planted firm on your skin, the solid weight beside him- It’s like it's all never even mattered in the first place.

For the first time in his life, he’s being seen. Viewed as more than just a weapon.

Screw the different perspective, screw the polar opposites, he’s in the here and now. It doesn’t matter if he’s been pretending tonight or his entire life, right now is real. He’s not going to lose it.

“Ca- Can I kiss you…?” It’s nearly a whisper, his voice so quiet and nervous as he leans forward on your bed.

You glance from his eyes down to his lips, heart thumping so loud you’re scared he might be able to hear it. You nod anyway, blinking slowly as you hold his gaze. “Y- Yeah.”

Toby brings his hand up nice and slow, cupping the side of your cheek as he leans in, fingers trembling against your skin. Your hand reaches to cup his, warm fingers relaxing atop his, a satisfying weight that has the boy swooning. Then you’re leaning in, too, slowly fluttering your eyes shut.

And then your lips touch, and everything just holds for a moment.

All the rush of the night, the nervousness, the excitement, it stops for just this one second.

You’re leaning into his touch, soft lips pressed firmly against his rough ones, slowly twinging your jaw to coax him deeper. He feels like he’s melting, skin so hot to the touch when you reel him in, your free hand snaking up the backside of his neck and into his messy curls.

He groans into your mouth, breaking the kiss and leaning back, breathing heavily. Your face is so flushed, cheeks a deep vermillion that makes Toby smile a little, grinning as he still cups your cheek. Your fingers brush through his hair, coaxing his head into your hand with such gentle touches. It’s so sweet, so calm, a complete turn from what the brunette is used to.

He knows pain, and rough, and cold- but you- there’s only sweetness, and caring, and warmth behind those eyes. He wants more of it, to feel more of it, he has to have it- to have you.

It doesn’t hit him what just happened until you’re giggling in front of him. Then that hold snaps, his conscience rushing back into him, and he’s leaning back further-

“I’m so so sorry- Oh my god- I don’t kn- know what I was thinking- I- Gah- I’m so sorry-”

“Toby.”

“If I should go- or- Oh, my god- I’m sorry- I should-”

“Toby.”

“I’m just so-”

And then your hands are wrapped into his hair, pushing forward until your lips collide, hurried, loud kisses that have the brunette spiraling, eyes fluttering shut again. There’s that warmth, your body leaning in to press close to his, arms wrapping around his neck, he thinks he might pass away.

You pull back, taking a deep breath as Toby collects himself, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. He’s a mess, brain running a mile a minute, his body having a hard time catching up as he twitches and jerks. 

Throwing your leg over his, you straddle his thighs, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck and holding him close. He’s swallowed by the sweet smell of your perfume, resting his chin on your shoulder as he wraps onto your back, heart thumping against your chest. He finds the thoughts flooding, dissipating the more he breathes, disappearing into this blanket of quiet.

“You alright?” You whisper, brushing your fingers through the back of his hair, his skin tingling with your touch. He hums low against your shoulder, running his fingers up and down your spine, the touch making you sigh. He could live forever in this moment, could die happy right here.

But when his fingers mindlessly dip a little too low, brushing your lower back right above the waistline of your jeans, Toby mewls at the way you grip onto tufts of his hair. It’s abrupt, a reaction, but he feeds into it anyway. He brushes that spot again, right above your tailbone, and you’re taking a deep, shaky breath against his neck. He likes that a lot.

Gently, he tugs the hem of your shirt up, just enough to see a peak of your skin. You pause, hitching a breath when you feel his cold fingers wind up under your shirt and press against your back.

“Toby-” He promises he’ll stop if you ask him to, making sure you know that- but you’re shaking your head, gripping onto his arm as he pushes his hand higher, snaking his fingers along the bony press of your back. You let out a low groan, quiet, but just enough to have Toby aching for more. He stops when his fingers brush the strap of your bra, dipping back down to caress the curve of your skin, studying every detail you’ll let him get.

“You’re so pretty…” He whispers, the dull lamp glowing across your flushed face making him blush, your body relaxing against his hold. Your noises are like a drug, he wants to hear them over and over, the softness of your voice so intoxicating. But more than that, he wants you. If this is all he gets, he’ll cherish it for the rest of his days.

Wrapping an arm around your back, he’s flipping you over, pushing you up to the center of your plush bed and towering over you. “Toby…” He drinks in your sweet gasps as he intertwined his lips with yours, tasting how sinfully delicious you were with a swipe of his tongue across your lower lip. Toby’s hands wandered the expanse of your body, cupping your head to kiss you deeper, snaking down to rub your waist. It’s so greedy, so hurried and eager, but doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out.

Your fingers run through his curls, following his head as he moves off your lips, slowly pressing a trail of gentle, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck. You’re gasping, running your hands across his shoulders, digging your nails in when he kisses just above your collarbone- but then he’s sitting back, pushing up and off of you with a worried look.

“Fu- Fuck, I’m sorry-” And then you’re sitting up on your elbows, a concerned look on your face. “I’m not be- bein’ myself tonight- I don’t know what’s wrong. Shit, [Y/N], I’m sorry-”

“Toby, it’s alright-” You laugh, pushing up to sit in front of him, reaching out before he takes your wrists in his hands, holding them down.

“No- I just, never do any- anything like this- It’s like I can’t stop-” Even through his apologies he’s staring at your lips, that hunger pooling in his chest for another sweet taste.

“You’re telling me I get to kiss the boy I’ve had a crush on for years, and he’s worried about not being able to stop?” Exasperation was heavy on your face, it’s almost laughable how much playful irritation was in your voice. Toby caught that last part though, the words going straight to his head.

“You gotta crush on me?” He smiles, redness tinting his cheeks. He’s still holding your wrists, your eyes slowly widening as the heat settles on your face.

“I, uhm- Well, you see-” You’re scrambling for words, the cheesy smile on Toby’s face not helping your case at all. “I mean, I thought it was kinda obvious. I dressed up as you for Halloween, man.”

He doesn’t let his conscience weigh him down anymore, pulling your hands to wrap around his neck before he pushes you back down onto the bed, swallowing the sweet taste of your lips against him. He can still taste the sourness of the candy you were eating on your tongue, too. He licks at the plush of your lips, drinking in your gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again. Because, God, knowing his luck- he probably won’t.

You’re a giggly mess, spreading your knees for him to slot between them, his muscled arms wrapping around the small of your waist. “And I’ve nev- never seen someone be able to pull off my go- goggles so well.” He prays you won’t be able to feel the bulge he’s sporting, but when your legs wrap around his hips, he loses all hope.

Your stomach flutters, tingles across your skin as he’s back on your neck, little nips and kisses that have your back arching off of the comforter, arms tightening around him. He would kiss you forever, marking every inch of your skin with a delicate brush of his lips, he could waste his time like that forever. You wrap your legs around Toby’s waist to pull him closer, feeling the outline of his cock. He grinds against you, letting out low groans at the snag of your clothed core. Both of you knew it- he needed you so badly.

But then you’re pushing your warm hands up the back of his shirt, fingers scorching across his toned muscles and scratching your nails into his skin. You push the top off of his shoulders, up and over his head before throwing it to the side, glancing down at the slim but strong figure looming above you. Scars adorn his skin, long gashes or scattered fragments of bullets that have clipped him, not to mention the littered cigarette burns all down his abdomen. He finds it disgusting, blemishes that he can’t stand to look at.

But you’re tracing them with your fingers, rubbing your thumbs across the blistered burns that made him sick, taking in every inch of him. And smiling. Was it possible to fall in love this fast?

“They’re disgusting.”

“They’re so cool.”

He can’t muster the words to fight you as you’re reaching deeper, pushing your hands further down his torso to snag onto his jeans, reaching for his belt. Toby’s body comes to a rushing halt, his heart beating so hard, the feeling of his cock finally getting the attention it wanted.

His hands rest on either side of your shoulders, a dark shadow over you as you slowly undo his belt, unbuttoning his jeans hastily. Hands dipping past the band of his boxers-

He was big- so mouthwateringly big. Flushed a deep shade of pink at his tip, pulsing in your hand so comfortably- every part of Toby was so endlessly pretty to you. He was gasping, eyes trained on how your fist slowly moved, so hot and heavy in your grasp as you pumped him at a steady, methodical pace. “Ah- Shit…”

Glancing back up to you, your face is so red, lips parted as Toby takes your jaw into his grasp, forcing you to look up at him before he bullies his tongue past your lips, little groans slipping past. Your back arches into him as his hands snake up your shirt, parting from your lips only to push the fabric over your head, capturing your kiss quickly again. He thinks he can manage, thinks he can keep his composure- but then your thumb runs over his slit, precum dribbling out onto your finger, and he's moaning into your mouth like he's never been touched before.

He hasn’t, not like this, not this gentle.

“[Y/N]- Oh God-” You’re biting his bottom lip, fingers clenched tight around the swollen head of his cock and pumping gently, his hips twitching and jerking for more. He pushes off of you, the breathless flush of your face so pretty under him, but then he’s glancing down.

And, fuck.

Your tits sit so pretty in your bra, blushed skin laid out beneath him as shaky hands reach to unbutton your jeans, jerky fingers quickly tugging them down your thighs and onto the floor below. And then he can’t believe how he's gone this long without you, or how he'll be able to survive another night if you’re not with him. 

Where you admire his blemishes, he admires your perfection. Not a nasty knife scar or bullet nip anywhere on you, skin so soft and warm, his cold hands running across your smooth hips. “Gorgeous.” It’s the only thing he can think to say, but it doesn't do you any justice.

“Let me- Can I touch you? Pl- Please-”

You don’t answer, just rising up off of the bed to reach behind your back, unclipping your bra so seamlessly as it falls off your shoulders. Toby nearly moans when you toss the fabric to the side, chest rising and falling with shaky breaths, tits so round and heavy- so pretty.

Falling to your side, he’s holding you close, one leg draping over his bony hip as he shimmies his jeans off. Your legs spread wide, hands gripped tight into the softness of his curls as rough lips wrap around your nipple. You’re gasping, skin fluttering with every touch across your abdomen, cold fingers slowly trailing down just below your belly button. He stays there, tongue pressing flat across your nipple as the pads of his digits line the hem of your panties, teasing as you buck your hips up, silently begging for him to go lower.

The brunette’s fingers were now rubbing against your folds through your panties, causing you to jerk at the friction. He playfully nipped at your collarbone before glancing up at you through heavy eyelids. “My turn, pretty girl.”

“Toby- hah- Yeah-” His free hand wraps behind your back, cradling you into his side as he pinches at your unattended nipple, rolling the bud between his fingers. He smiles against your tit, a long sigh of relief when you feel his fingers break past the line of your panties.

His fingers dip into the warm folds of your cunt, dipping down to collect your arousal on his digits, messily swiping across your plushy lips. You’re already soaked just from kissing, Toby popping off of your nipple to snag your lips, kissing you hungrily as you pant into his mouth. His fingers circle your clit, the nub pulsing and jerking at his touch, hips rising and falling as they chase the sensation. “Jesus- You’re soaked.”

Swirling deftly around the sensitive nub, you gasp, heat so prominent on your cheeks. “Don’t worry, I go- got you.” He’s unable to decide between sucking harshly on your poor nipples, or soaking his tongue in the warmness of your mouth, lips glistening with his saliva. And it’s driving you mad, keening and pulling at his soft locks. You’ve never been touched like this before, and Toby didn’t know if he would be able to stop.

Then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your gummy pussy, the tips of his long fingers massaging your plushy walls. You cry out, breaking from his kiss and giving him a good excuse to snag back onto your tit, gently biting on your reddened nipple.

He’s pumping his fingers rhythmically, curling them in a way that has your eyes fluttering shut, fingers tugging his hair so hard it makes him groan at the pressure. His digits glisten in the low light, hand stretching the fabric of your panties He’s hitting that little spot each and every time., looking like he was absolutely in heaven as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your nipple, lips wrapped tight around the skin.

“Sh- Shit, Toby-” You groan, grinding your hips down as he stuffs his fingers all the way to the knuckle, the two middle digits spreading and pressing against your walls, coaxing your legs to spread wider. His palm bumps against your clit, holding his hand there to press firm against the bundle of nerves, your jaw hanging loose when he leans up to go in for more kisses. He is all over you, barely able to breathe as he ravages your skin, fingers bullying their way deeper until you can feel yourself gushing across his palm. The noises are so lewd, the schlick, schlick of your wet cunt taking him back in, walls clenching around his thick fingers. You can’t stand it, can’t take it anymore-

Toby can see it in your face, in the way you stop kissing him back to let out a long, guttural moan that has him in bliss. His fingers beat faster, fucking your swollen cunt open as his unattended cock throbs and leaks against your thigh, begging to replace his fingers.

“S’good Toby. Fuck. Right there- Don’t stop.” And then your arms are wrapping around his head, cradling his face into your neck as you fall apart on his fingers, pussy gushing and practically dripping with your orgasm. You think maybe you see stars, or it’s just the freckles on the brunette’s skin when he captures your lips, drinking up every moan you feed him.

His cock is wilting, throbbing, and twitching against your leg as you finally settle out, breathy groans that have you both staring at each other through heavy gazes. He slips his hand from your ruined panties, pulling your knee up higher to spread your legs more as he slides the fabric from your hips and tosses them somewhere unseen, taking his cock in his soaked fingers. 

Your breath hitches at the way he drags his swollen head teasingly across your slit, pooling your slick on his achingly hard tip, smearing your juices with his cockhead as he pumps himself lazily. It’s so torturously good, his face disappearing into the crook of your neck as he gently nibbles your burning skin. “Need you so bad, Toby.” You breathe out, nearly panting. “Co- Condom. In the nightstand-”

Despite wanting to feel you, really feel you wrapped around him, he kisses just below your jaw before rolling over. Fishing for a condom in your drawer, he misses you sitting up, fresh orgasm giving you a rush of need as you watch him haul the packet in between his fingers.

Because then you’re pushing his shoulders down onto the bed, straddling his thighs as you snag the condom from him, quickly tearing open the packet. Toby watches with excitement, hands reaching to cradle against the sides of your thighs, fingers digging into your plush skin when you slowly slide the latex down his throbbing length. It’s snug, but thin, able to feel every pulse of your cunt as you take the base of him in your hand, swiping his tip along your folds, wetting himself. It was all the preparation you were going to give yourself because fuck Toby needed to be inside your pussy right now.

Then you feel like you’re being split apart- Toby’s cock was slowly pushing up into your warmth as he presses through the first ring of muscle. Before you can overthink, you’re nudging your hips down gently. So agonizingly gentle that Toby has to stop his hips from riding off the bed. And you can do nothing more than let out barely-audible whispers of his name as you seat yourself on his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. “Ah- Hah-”

You feel so full. So drunk off of the delicious burn of your pussy, hands resting on his chest as he watches you. 

You’re so nauseously tight, gripping his length in a way that had his eyes rolling back, fingers digging red marks into your skin. You’re both breathless, eyes clamped shut and bodies shaky when your hips finally meet his, so utterly full of him. Toby can’t even find the words for it.

That’s when you hear voices from outside your closed bedroom door, Avery and her friends returning from whatever drunken night they had, loud as ever.

In a panic, you push your hands over Toby’s mouth, the brunette’s hot breath fogging against your skin as he smiles, waiting patiently as they all file into Avery’s room, voices slowly dwindling out. Meanwhile, you’re pulsing around him, cunt clenching as you’re forced to wait.

But eventually it's all clear, palm slowly letting off of his mouth, a teasingly smile plastered on his face. You roll your eyes, quietly laughing as you steady yourself, pushing your knees further against his sides. You’re pulling your hips up eagerly, achingly fucking yourself at a slow, sensual pace. His tip kisses your cervix as you roll your hips sensually against his, making sure you feel every vein and twitch against your tight walls.

“Y’looked so beau- beautiful tonight. So pretty dressing up as me.” Toby gasps, running his hands across your thighs, up the sides of your waist as you dig your knees into the mattress. It sends shivers down your spine, ones that go directly to your clit as you lean forward, pressing your chest against his. Sweaty forehead meeting his, he leans up to meet your pitiful kiss, hips still pushing back as your clit rubs against his abs.

Surprised moans get choked in his throat as you rock your hips back and forth, pulling all the way up till his furiously flushed tip is teasing your sloppy hole, slick glistening on his length, just to nudge yourself down again, relishing in that full feeling. 

Wrapping his hands around the back of your thighs, he massages the plushness of your ass, smiling to himself when you wrap your arms around his neck and hide your face into the crook of his neck. “More, Toby.”

“O- Okay…” He breathes, bending his knees to get a better angle, the divot of his cock pressing against that sweet spot and making you mewl. The weight of you on top of him is so satisfying.

Toby starts up a satisfyingly good pace, thrusts get deeper and deeper until he finally buries his cock into you as deep as it could go. Throaty groans spill out of his mouth, he looks over and kisses your forehead gently, taking in every moan and whine you muffle into his neck. “Oh- hah! Yeah, yeah, yeah-”

Even if his body was exhausted, he couldn’t feel it. All he could tell was that your cunt was gripping him so hard his jaw was clenched, grinding his teeth as he fucked himself up into that sweet warmth. “So good- Oh, feels so good-”

“Oh god. Toby, right there-” You gasp out in pleasure, starting to move in shallow thrusts that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head, the curve of his cock knocking that swollen sweet spot over and over, each thrust more prominent than the last. You bounce your ass back on him, meeting every thrust that he delivers so deep into the swell of your pussy, clit aching and throbbing as it rubs against his hard abs. “You’re so- doing so good, baby-” He huffs.

Feeling that very familiar coil in your abdomen, you mewl, “Toby- I’m gonna-”

But then his thrusts halt, hands reaching further up your back to hold onto you tightly, sitting both you and him up as he crawls up onto his knees. He’s got your weight in his arms, cock still nestled so deeply inside of you as you wrap your limbs around him, leaning in to kiss along his jawline sticky with sweat.

He gives up thrusting now, hips rutting and grinding into you in a way that has you moaning deep and long, cunt throbbing with the ache for release. He’s in so deep- so full. 

Kissing against your rose cheeks, he looks at you with fucked-out eyes, trying his best to ride out the last of this moment as he feels his gut pool with warmth. His arms reach around your slender back to dig his nails into the unblemished skin, holding you as close as he physically could. It felt so perfect. Your hips grind back to meet Toby’s, thighs trembling as they cling to his hips. “Shit, [Y/N], I think yo- you were made for me.”

And then you’re capturing his lips, breathy moans as you feel him throb inside you.

“Close?” 

“Mhm…” He sighs, leaning down to kiss along your shoulder.

You grind your hips deeper, chasing that heavy feeling that builds in your gut, clinging onto whatever you can grab of his skin, brushing your hands up into his hair and pulling. “Hngh- Toby. Inside- ” You whimper, overstimulated, and your senses filled with only the brunette, you finally cum, riding it out on his deep thrusts. “Oh, fu- fuck. Gonna cum. Gonna cum, my pretty girl- Hngh-” He moans out as your pussy clenches down on him, finally tipping over the edge as well.

You feel Toby cum in hot spurts into the condom, rasping your name over and over as if it was the only word he knew. He collapses onto you, careful not to crush you with his full body weight as he pants against your neck, slowly tugging himself from your gooey warmth.

As you both come down from your highs, he quickly removes the condom and hugs your sweaty body closer to his, kissing along your neck and up to the corner of your mouth. Eventually, he climbs off of your bed, searching your messy floor for his boxers, tossing you his t-shirt which you happily pull on. 

He fishes new panties from your dresser- quietly spazzing out at all the different colored bras and matching bottoms you had to choose from- and tugs on his own boxers.

Every movement after that is laced with exhaustion, tired, sticky bodies shuffling under the covers as you cling to his side, breathing in his smell like it’ll be the last time you do. He’ll make sure it’s not.

Flipping your lamp off, the only glow is from your TV, dim lights reflecting off of your still-rosy skin. He takes every moment to kiss along your cheeks, brushing your hair from your face, and cradling your body tight against him. He doesn’t really remember how you coaxed him into taking off the wrap on his hand- with the false promise that you would change the soiled bandages out tomorrow- but you do, unraveling the fabric until that horrific proxy symbol contrasted against his pale skin. A mark, a reminder of who he was returning to when the sun rose tomorrow.

He promised to let himself have tonight, but he knew that tonight wasn’t going to last forever.

But then you’re bringing his hand to your lips, placing a sweet, deep kiss right at the center of his palm. And he melts. He wasn’t lying when he said he thought you were made for him, the sour look on his face disappearing when he was cupping your cheeks, pulling you impossibly closer to kiss against your skin.

You kissed against the scar on his cheek, soft lips on jagged flesh, and he knew.

You spend the rest of the night fishing stories from him, things he promised he would never tell, but find your reactions just too good at the mention of Masky and Tim. Your obsession seemed to run deeper than him, but he was your favorite.

-

Toby would have never felt the dip in the bed beside him, or the fingers that messed in his hair, but he did feel the fist that clenched onto his jaw much harder than you ever could’ve.

“Rise and shine, twitch.” Jeff, in all of his ugliness, sat on the edge of the bed, teasingly patting Toby’s cheeks. The brunette sat up, pushing the killer off of him and out of the bed, hoarse little chuckles erupting as he felt you stir next to him.

“How the fuck did you get here?”

“Front door, duh. You sent me your location last night, remember?” Toby noticed through your open bedroom door that your front door was swung wide open, the killer smiling with satisfaction, but his face slowly dropped when he saw you slowly sit up.

“Toby? Wha-” You see Jeff, Toby ready to reach out and clamp your mouth shut, prepping for a terrified scream. But then you’re sitting up, Jeff awkwardly glancing back and forth between you two as your lips part. “No way.”

Toby should’ve known better.

Because then you’re bombarding the killer, sitting on the edge of the bed, and studying every detail of his face, fangirling, of all things. Toby smiles, laughing to himself as you banter on and on about newsletters and obscure websites, Jeff casting you concerning looks as you recount his entire backstory. 

-

It’s well into the afternoon by the time Jeff finally pushes Toby to leave, barking about how he was supposed to have him back hours ago. The killer would never admit it, but they were only there that long because he enjoyed hearing someone harp on how good of a killer he was, complimenting him like he had always wanted.

Jeff’s already in the truck waiting as Toby kisses your face, kissing against your hands as fear courses him, fear that this will be the last time. But then you’re grabbing his phone, typing in your number, and sending yourself a text. A promise.

“For whenever you want to stop by ;)”

Followed by your address.

And then he’s back on the road, Jeff harping on and on about how ‘you weren’t that bad’ or ‘if Toby wasn’t careful he’d snatch you up.’ He couldn’t hear him though, too busy studying every detail of the photo you had sent him, the two of you smiling half-drunk in that elevator. It was already his wallpaper by the time they made it back to the mansion.

And he was already making plans on how he could sneak away tonight to come see you.

God, how he loved Halloween.

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

Thanks to my wonderful editors @h3llw1 and @solarbites!

Happy Halloween!

[classyrbf]

THERE'S SOMEONE IN THE WOODS! — GETO SUGURU

KINKTOBER WEEK ONE

SYNOPSIS...walking home from a halloween party, you decided to take a shortcut, but an eerie feelings creeps up your spine and it feels like eyes are watching your every move

INFO...stalker!geto x fem!reader, for the sake of the story everything is consensual, a fantasy between geto and reader, stalking, groping, fingering, ripping clothes, sex in the woods, choking, hair pulling, oral (m!receiving), deep throating, rough, name calling, degradation, slapping, spanking, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

kinktober 2024 masterlist

The wind howled in your ears and the moon was illuminating your every step home. You were cold, the costume that you had on was no help, shivering as you hugged yourself tightly. It was a stupid idea to go to a Halloween party without thinking of how you were going to get back home. Everyone was either drunk driving, or their cars were already filled with other passengers, and to put the cherry on top…your phone had died so you couldn’t call anyone to pick you up. You mentally cursed at yourself for staying so late in the first place, it had to be at least three in the morning. Everyone else was asleep and done with their trick or treating activities, lights off at every house in your sight.

“Fuck me,” you sighed, stopping when you came to a fork in the road. You took the left path knowing that it was a shortcut to your house and you didn’t plan on walking any longer than you needed to in these godforsaken heels. The wind brushed against your exposed skin, goosebumps climbing their way up your body. The further you stepped into the forest, darkness began to surround you. The large, twisted branches allowing very few rays of moonlight to shine through. Tall trees hovered over you, casting shadows. You’d be lying if you said this shortcut wasn’t one hundred times creepier at night compared to day.

Leaves rustled in the wind, branched snapped under your feet and you couldn’t help but look over your shoulder every five seconds to make sure no one was following you. It felt like eyes were watching your every movement, dark figures in the tree line stalking you like prey, waiting to pounce. “It’s all in your head,” you mumbled to yourself, walking faster. Though, your words were no help. Your eyes darted in every direction, barely paying attention to what was in front of you causing you to trip over a tree root sticking out. You fell to your knees, wincing in pain when you saw little blood droplet stain your stockings. “You gotta be kidding me,” you whined.

As you sat there on the floor trying to regain yourself, you heard a twig snap in the distance. With wide eyes, you got up as quickly as you could and looked around. “Hello?” You called out, your voice echoing through the forest. And just like that, you heard it again. Your feet moved before you could even think and you began to run as fast as you could in the shoes you were wearing. It would be better to take them off but you couldn’t stop now.

Your breathing quickened with each passing second and just a few feet behind you, you could hear footsteps. Fear struck your heart and you could only focus on the clearing up ahead. You weren’t sure if you were imagining it or if it was some animal, but you weren’t going to stop and check. Something didn’t feel right and that’s all you needed to know to get your ass out of here. The clearing was only so close now and your chest burned from the cold air that filled your lungs. Your heartbeat thumped loudly in your ears and the pain from your busted knee dissipated from the adrenaline rushing through you.

The streetlights came into view and just before you could make it, you felt a hard tug on your dress, a rough hand pulling you back into the darkness and covering your mouth as you screamed into it, squirming around in his tight grip. Each kick and punch to his body didn’t do a thing and the clearing soon began to grow smaller. “Shh, shh, shh.” His breath tickled your ear. “Don’t be scared,” he whispered. He pushed you up against a tree, slowly appearing in your view. You couldn’t quite make out his face, but his tall silhouette, muscular frame, and long dark hair was quite obvious. “Promise me you won’t scream? If you do, you’ll be in big trouble.”

Your entire body was shaking, weak. You had no idea what was going to happen. You didn’t know if he had a weapon, but you didn’t want to find out the hard way. He slowly removed his from your mouth, and let out a chuckle with how hard you were breathing. “Please don’t hurt me,” you sniffled, tears pouring from your eyes. You felt your body was glued to the tree, any sudden movement would make you drop. “What do you want? I don’t have any money…here,” you handed him your phone, “take it, it’s all I have.” More tears streamed down your face.

He looked at your phone with disinterest before looking back up at you. “Don’t you recognize me?” He questioned. You meekly shook your head no. “I guess I did a good job then,” he laughed. “I thought you noticed me but I guess not.” He brushed his hand against your cheek, wiping away your tears. “I was watching you the whole night. Watching you get drunk, dance with your friends, kiss random strangers, and I kept thinking how pretty you were. Ever since you walked in that door.” He gripped your chin tightly, leaning in closely in the crook of your neck.

You whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as he smelled you. “Please, let me go. I’ll do anything.” You weren’t sure if negotiating with him was going to work, but you were willing to do anything in order to just go home. But, he completely ignored you and continued rubbing up on you. His hands roamed freely, down your stomach and back, up to your tits where he gave them a squeeze. It wasn’t until he moved away from you that you saw some of his features. His chiseled face, and dark, narrow eyes, his slightly tan skin, and plump lips. His hair flowed with the wind, the leaves falling from above.

Within a split second, he pushed his lips onto yours, roughly kissing you, his tongue forcefully pushing inside your mouth. His hand wrapped around your throat, pinning you to the tree while his other hand reached under your dress to rub your cunt through your stocking and panties. You whimpered into the kiss, pulling away to catch your breath. “These are in the fucking way,” he grunted, ripping your tights with one hand. He pushed your panties to the side, smirking as he ran his finger up and down your slit. A small gasp left his lips when he could feel your juices coat his finger. “You’re wet. This turn you on? Being chased and caught in the woods so some stalker could fuck you?” His slipped his finger inside, watching the way your jaw fell open.

“You’re just as sick as I imagined,” he let out a deep chuckle, curling his finger inside of you before adding another. He still had you pinned against the tree with your legs spread, your dress bunched up at your waist while he thrusted his long, thick fingers inside of you. “You’re sucking my fingers right in.” A smirk formed at the corner of his lips, your pussy squelching the faster he went, your juices dripping down his fingers.

A small whine escaped your throat looking at the man in front of you. You weren’t sure whether to be scared or turned on. Maybe you were both. Was it wise to entertain this? That question ran through your head over and over. He leaned back towards your lips, hungry for another kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers. Without thinking, your arms wrapped around him as your legs grew weak, nearly falling from how good his fingers felt inside of you.

His dick strains against his slacks, damn near painful from how hard he was. “Get on the fucking floor.” He slips his fingers out from inside you, pushing you down to your knees and against the tree. You look up at him confused before he sticks his fingers in your mouth, making you taste yourself on your fingers. He’s quick to undo his belt, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. Your eyes widen as his dick springs out, swollen red tip, and pulsating veins on either side of his shaft. Precum drips from the tip and he smears it over his cock, slowly jerking himself off to the sight of you sucking his fingers.

“Stick out that tongue for me, baby. Open up.” He removes his fingers from your mouth, grabbing a fistful of your hair before he slaps his heavy dick on your tongue. “Good fucking girl,” he sighs. He rubs his dick all over your face, slapping you with in, pushing it between your lips. He grips your hair tighter, pushing your head down onto his cock. “Fuckkkk,” he moans as feels your warm tongue rub along his shaft and your throat squeeze around him. You immediately gag as he goes further, eyes watering before you gag again, your nose touching his pelvis. “Stay just like that, don’t you fucking move.” He holds your head down for a few seconds before he lets go, allowing you to breathe.

You gasp for air, letting out dry coughs as he laughs at you. Strings of spit connect from your mouth to his dick, dripping down to his balls. His hand grips your hair again and you let out a pained whimper. “First time taking dick down your throat, huh?” He mocks you, stilling laughing in your face. You stare up at him with tearful eyes, wiping your mouth of all the spit. But before you could blink, a sharp pain spreads across your cheek, your head jolting to the other side. Did he just slap you? “Did I say you could wipe your mouth? No, no I don’t think I did. I like it messy, so get used it.” With force, he shoves his dick back in your throat.

You throat closes in around him again, gagging. Tears stream down your face as he fucks your mouth. Glug glug glug glug. You place your hands on his thighs in attempt to get him to slow down but he just goes harder, the back of head pushed against the tree and trapped between his thighs. He pushes your nose against his pelvis once more, spit dripping down your chin and from his balls. “Ugh, fuck! This throat feels so good!” His abs tense up and your eyes roll into the back of your head before he removes himself from your throat.

You’re coughing again, chest heaving up and down while you sit there on your knees trying to catch your breath. “Please, I can’t, my throat hurts.” Your brows furrow.

He grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Someone’s gotta teach you how to suck dick properly, baby. I don’t give a fuck if your throat hurts,” he harshly says. He slaps his dick against your face, smearing your spit all over. “Come on, impress me.” He stares down at you with those dark eyes. You’re quick to understand that he wants you to suck his dick yourself. “Remember, I like it messy.”

Both hands wrap around his cock, jerking him off as you move your wrist in a circular motion, taking the rest of him in your mouth. Your tongue swirling around his head, gathering as much spit as you could. You look up at him, taking him slightly further down your throat before coming back up. “That’s it, keep those eyes on me. Don’t you dare fucking look away.” He grits his teeth, eyes rolling back when you bob your head up and down his shaft. Your jaw grows tired, pulling away to give yourself a break, your hands still gripping his length.

Streaks of mascara stain your cheeks, your lip stick smeared across your lips. He reaches down to pet your face, admiring the view. He can see that your scared, but he can also tell that you’re enjoying this. It only makes him want to get your blood pumping more. “Make me fucking cum. Put it back in your mouth.” He places his hand on the back of your head, pushing it down, your throat accommodating to his size. “You’re such a quick learner. Taking it like a fucking whore.” He bites down on his bottom lip, thrusting his hips at a sharp pace. “Open up that throat. Come on,” he growls.

You body jolts forward as you gag, your nails digging into his thighs as he pushes your nose against his pelvis. You can feel him twitch and pulsate in your throat and before you know it hot spurts of cum coat your throat. “Uh huh, fuck, fuck. Take it, baby. Mmmph!” His jaw goes slack, holding your head down until your slapping his thighs to breathe. Luckily, he lets you pull away after he drains all of his cum. You barely have time to recover before he’s snatching you back to your feet, spinning you around and pushing you against the tree. “Did such a good job sucking my dick. I wanna know if this pussy can do the same.” A swift slap to your ass makes you whimper, holding onto the tree for support while it scratches at your skin.

“Go slow, please,” you beg. You wish you would’ve never said anything because your words only added fuel to the fire. It’s been a while since you’ve slept with anyone and slipping him that piece of information made him do the opposite of what you asked for.

“Go slow? Huh? No, no.” His hand snaked around your throat, pulling your back against his chest while he whispered in your ear. “I’ll do what I want with you.” He smacked your ass again, tearing off your panties and tossing them somewhere into the woods. “Say you want me to fuck you,” he ordered. You silently stood there in his arms, biting down on your bottom lip as you braced for whatever he was going to give you. “Say it!” He huskily whispered, rubbing his shaft up and down your sopping slit.

“Fuck me,” you meekly spoke.

“What was that, baby? I couldn’t quite hear you.” He kissed your jaw so softly, his other hand reaching down to toy with your puffy clit. He let out a blissful sigh as your moans, continuing to rub it in circles in such a teasing manner. “Say it again.”

“Fuck me, please,” you said a little louder this time. “Ah!” A yelp left your lips when he slipped inside, pushing his entire length in, the burning stretch making you wince. “Oh fuck!” You whined. His thrusts were brutal, his cock reaching your deepest points. His arm wrapped your torso, holding you up while simultaneously pulling you back on his cock. The sudden sensation of him inside you became so overwhelming, you couldn’t help but squirm in his grip.

The sound of skin to skin echoed through the woods and your lewd moans along with it. Ripples of pleasure shot through every part of your body. Your hands reached out for the tree, finding stability to hold yourself up. His breath shuddered against your neck, desperate moans and grunts filling your ears. “You’re so fucking wet—nnngh fuck!” He growled. His fat tip kissed your cervix with each thrust, tears pricking your eyes before spilling over. Suddenly, he slowed down his thrusts, going harder and slower, allowing you to feel every throbbing inch.

“Ah!” You squealed when he slammed his hips against yours, only to slowly pull back out again. Each hard jolt of his hips sent your body forward, your knees already ready to give out. “Ah!” You screamed in pleasure, reaching down to grip onto his forearm.

His hand shot over your mouth, muffling your cries and moans. “Go ahead and scream, baby. You think someone is gonna hear you? It’s just me…and…you.” Each of his words were punctuated with hard thrusts. You moaned into his hand, your eyes screwed shut. He could feel you clench around him, letting out a blissful sigh. He pressed against you, going as deep as he could and stayed there. A sharp gasp escaped your throat, eyes widening as you tried to move your hips. “You’re mine now,” he breathily whispered.

“Mmph! Mmmph!” As he began pounding into you again your eyes rolled back, feeling him in the deepest parts of you. “Please, please, please,” you cried, voice breaking through your tears. Your mind grew hazy, too clouded to even think clearly. His thrusts were so sharp, so animalistic. He roughly grabbed your chin, forcing it in his direction before planting a hungry, sloppy kiss on your lips. Both of swallowed each others lewd moans, gasping for air between wet kisses.

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” He rasped, staring into your eyes. All you could force was a nod. “Yeah? Gonna cum all over your stalkers dick, baby? Do it. Give it to me. Show me how dirty you are.” He pressed deeper, your entire body trembling. The feeling your pussy pulsating around him only fueled him to go faster, his grip on your entire body tightening while you came. “That it’s—f-fuck!” His voice trembled.

Your entire body quivered with pleasure, high pitched whines spilling from your lips, barely able to form proper words. His brutal pace sent your mind into a spiral. Each greedy stroke sent him closer to the edge, his thrust growing sloppier and his thoughts growing dirtier, thinking of filling you up with his cum and watching it leak out of you. “Oh my god! S-slow down! Gonna cu—nnngh!” Before you could even say it, you were already cumming a second time, your orgasm ripping through your entire body and sucking the air of your lungs.

“Yes, yes! Cum on my dick. You’re gonna make me cum, baby. Fuck your self on my dick. Work for it.” He pushed your weak body against the tree, his chest rising and falling as you so desperately fucked him, throwing your ass back. He looked down, watching the way he disappeared inside your messy cunt, creaming around him and sucking him in. You circled your hips, moving back and forth, feeling your ass ripple against his pelvis. “Fucking work for it.” His hand swatted your ass several times, the stinging sensation that lingered on your skin making you whimper. “Atta girl. Right fucking there…shit, baby. Just like that, just like that,” he whined, reaching down to squeeze the plump flesh.

Low guttural groans collided with your moans, echoing through the lonely forest. He was so close to cumming, you could tell. His big strong hands took ahold of your hips as he pushed himself all the way inside of you. “Ah…oh fuck…mmph—s-shit!” He shuddered, hot spurts of cum painting your walls. You pushed back into him, biting down on your bottom lip, not wanting one last drop to go to waste. After several seconds, he slowly pulled out, trying to catch his breath. He forcefully grabbed you, standing you upright even though your entire body was shaking.

After coming down from your high, you realized you just fucked your stalker and let him cum inside you. Hell, you didn’t even know his name. Both of you stared at each other, eyes searching deep within. You were left confused, speechless. You flinched when he brought his hand up to your cheek, gently stroking it with the pad of his thumb. His eyes flickered down to your lips, placing the most gentle kiss on them—the most gentle one since you’ve met him. Yet, you found yourself kissing him back. “Who are you?” Your voice broke the silence, nervously scanning his features.

His lips quirked up into the slightest smirk. “Just the boy who saw you at the Halloween party.” From the very beginning he was never going to give you his name. “Your stalker.” He seemed to take pride in his words, now smiling at you.

You gulped, blinking up at him. “My stalker.”

taglist (closed):

@roronoaslover @skychapt-blog @prettylil-teine @freakadelick @adamaisfav @tadabzzzbee @ourfinalisation @marlenemckinnonsleftfoot @heliumshorns @ninani-nanina @blankwashed @sadkaomoji @tojis-ball-sack @blkpotionss @sunjayist @cryptxdslxt @aweebthatsjustthere @angelrulez21-blog @lemonintrovert21 @vertigoandvirtues @cloudxluv @kkataleena @eclipsi-shadow @sugusmonkeyy @greatwizardangel @cybersomn1a @screamlast9 @purpleheart835 @ramiiroll @purp1eha1o @veraiku @yu22tas @wrldtups @4evrglow @sugarsticksss @fos-tis-zois @lisvanrouge @asiancupid @bluejayreadsanddreams @sincerelyaixii @digitaltrippers @chuuminn @lolimmafuckings1mp @jellyfishlord @therealest06 @terminosdevozsauve @keanureevessmile @nekoxvi @starlightglimmersworld @m0nsterzl0ve

[kookooluvr]

MADE OF HONOR | JJK (fic announcement)

you gained a lot from university; a law degree catching dust in your attic, countless arguments with your roommate about laundry schedules, and a best friend whose biggest fear in life is commitment. in essence, jungkook's world gets flipped upside down when you take a trip to london and he finally realizes his feelings for you...only to find out you've come back with a fiancé.

pairing: jungkook x (fem) reader x namjoon

genre: fluff, angst, smut, f2l au, love triangle au, bestfriend!jungkook, fuckboy!jungkook, baker!reader, photographer!namjoon

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

w/c: tbc

warnings: tbc

a/n: my first one-shot woop woop !!!! i'm soooo excited to share this one with you guys because moh!jk is a menace and namjoon makes me swoon 😩😩 i didn't want to give too much away with the teaser so it's just jk and oc's meet cute (my namjoonie isn't in the picture yet). pleeease let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist and i hope you are as excited as i am !! love you cuties 🫶🏼

main masterlist jungkook moodboard oc moodboard

namjoon moodboard spotify playlist

[Teaser]

It's Halloween night on campus, which means three things: a really loud, obnoxious party filled with really loud, obnoxious people, drunk hookups that no one will remember in the morning, and you've locked yourself in your room to avoid all of the above.

The entire university is pulsating with the energy of drunk frat boys in capes, girls dressed in skimpy lingerie calling it their costume, and at least three professors who are far too old to be dressed up amongst the students. You, however, are in your true element: a large hoodie, fuzzy socks, a half-eaten Snickers bar on your nightstand, and a thick law textbook open in front of you.

Parties aren't your thing. You'd rather be sued than make small talk with a guy dressed as a ketchup bottle. While your roommate, Jieun, spent hours hot-gluing rhinestones onto her platform space boots for her "sexy astronaut" outfit, you politely declined all invitations and instead declared war on your midterm readings. The only spooky thing in your life right now is the growing realization that you don't actually want to be a lawyer, the thought that you'll probably die single, and knowing you'll be buried in student debt by the time you graduate.

And honestly? That's still more appealing than the campus party.

You take a break from studying around 2am and finally decide to turn off the light and get some rest.

Until the door of your dorm room creaks open.

You pause, blinking your eyes open in the darkness of your room. Maybe Jieun forgot her phone. Maybe she brought back a stray alien from the party. Either way, you don't move, not until the unmistakable dip of the mattress under your legs almost sends your soul flying from your body.

Someone just climbed into your bed.

Your eyes widen to the size of saucers, your heart racing in your chest. It's pitch black, the only light coming from the little slit under the door.

"Jieunieee," the voice whispers, smooth and far too seductive. "Are you ready for the best dick of your life?"

That's it.

You scream as loud as you can, springing straight up. You grab the bottle of Channel perfume on your nightstand and spray it directly into his eyes.

"AHHH—WHAT THE F—!"

The stranger falls out of your bed with a loud thud, hitting the floor dramatically like he's been shot in a Western.

"What the hell?!" he groans, writhing on the floor with a hand covering his eyes and the other holding his head. "You maced me!"

"That was perfume!" you yell, feeling your heart in your throat, the perfume clutched tightly in your hand, holding it out in case you have to spray him again. "And why are you in my bed, you psychopath?!"

"I was looking for Jieun!"

"You can't just crawl into beds like a raccoon in the night!"

"I thought this was her bed!"

"Do I sound like Jieun?!"

He blinks rapidly on the floor, his voice strained through his agony. "I don't know, it's dark and I was promised a sexy astronaut!"

You switch on the bedside lamp with the force of a woman ready to kill.

And there he is.

Black leather pants. Tight black shirt. Fake bruises and cuts on his face, presumably made with makeup. An eyebrow piercing. Messy hair. Ridiculously attractive even while clutching at his eyes like he's just been gassed in battle.

Your brain fills in the blanks before he even says it.

"You're Jeon Jungkook, aren't you?"

He lowers his hand just enough to smirk at you. "And you're ___. The infamous roommate l've heard so much about."

You sigh, flopping back against your headboard in disbelief. "Of course she's hooking up with you of all people."

Jungkook is a campus legend. The boy whose reputation includes at least two streaking incidents, three girls who dropped out of the university due to their heartbreak, and a tongue that's done unspeakable things according to the word on the street.

And now he's on your floor, still very much looking like the kind of man your mother warned you about even after being sprayed in the eyes with perfume.

He sits up, rubbing his eyes. "For the record, l've had a lot of entrances, but that was definitely my worst."

"You scared the crap out of me!" you exclaim, tossing your pillow at him. "Who just walks into a dorm and climbs into an unfamiliar bed?!"

"I didn't walk," he scoffs, catching the pillow with an insufferable grin. "I strode."

You glare at him.

He grins wider. "Come on, that was funny!"

"You have a concussion, don't you?"

He wipes his eyes with the heels of his palms, settling on the edge of your bed. "Honestly? If you weren't so terrifying, I'd be impressed."

"Excuse me?"

"You're terrifying," he deadpans. "You sprayed me in the eyes and insulted me all within five minutes. That's worse than most of my Tinder dates. Not by much, but still."

You fold your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow at him. "Maybe don't go crawling into beds with strangers."

"Technically, you're the stranger," he quips, pointing a finger at you. "And you've maced and verbally abused me. That's a lot for a first impression."

You sigh, rolling your eyes. "Unbelievable. Are you always this irritating?"

"I like to think of myself as…persistently charming," he smiles.

You give him a dry look, your eyes narrowing. "You're the human equivalent of an unsolicited dick pic."

"Oof," he winces, placing his hand over his heart. "Okay, that one hurt. But also...kinda hot that you're this mean."

You blink at him. "Do girls actually fall for this crap?"

"Usually," he shrugs.

"Well, congratulations," you scoff. "You've officially found the girl who's immune to your bullshit."

He holds up his hands in surrender, laughing softly. "Okay, you've made your point. I'm sorry I invaded your bed. I didn't mean to scare you like that. I apologize."

Your face softens ever so slightly, giving him a curt nod. "Thank you."

"But also," he adds, leaning back on his hands, "you're hilarious. And clearly not afraid to defend your space. We should be friends."

You stare at him. "What?"

"Friends," he repeats, like it's the most natural thing in the world. "You and me. I'm serious."

You narrow your eyes once more. "You literally came here to hook up with my roommate."

"Which clearly isn't happening anymore," he sighs, lounging on your bed like he's at the beach. "But now l've met you. And I like you."

You scoff. "You don't know me."

"I know you don't care about going to a hot party and hooking up on Halloween night, and would absolutely tase someone if you had the chance. Right?"

You pause. That...is not incorrect.

"I also know that girls like you usually avoid guys like me. Which is fair. But still.." He swings his legs off the bed, standing up. "I want to be friends."

"Why would we do that?" you ask, genuinely curious.

He grins. "Because you're the first girl who's actually told me I'm full of shit to my face."

You open your mouth, then close it again, and he takes that as a win.

"Anyway, I'll see you around," he smiles, walking toward the door. "If Jieun asks, tell her I tested positive for an STD or something."

You roll your eyes. "Get out!"

He's halfway out when he turns back and winks.

"Nice meeting you, ___."

"Likewise, Satan," you grumble, gesturing for him to shut the door.

He laughs, loud and boyish, and disappears down the hall. And just like that, your quiet Halloween night turned into something totally unexpected.

You met Jeon Jungkook. And he wants to be your friend.

God help you.

[princesssmars]

thinking of this escape the butch vi fanart. a Lot.

nsfw. fem!reader. roleplaying + rough sex. very light degradation mixed with praise. also inspired by that dbd clip of ghostface and the survivor under him...yeah. penetrative strap-on sex (r!receiving). recorded sex.

wc : 1.954

"come on pretty girl, you said you wanted this, right? so go on and smile for the camera."

like every other story, the erotic memory of your girlfriend pounding you into your carpet actually had a rather sweet beginning.

see, you were a fan of horror movies. slashers, body horror, psychological, just name it and you've probably watched it. most of your friends found it odd, always declining when you'd invite them to catch a late night showing of a new flick.

oh but not your vi. whenever you were absolutely dying to see the hottest new horror in theaters, you knew it'd only take a phone call and playful begging for her to pull up on her motorcycle and whisk you away to the big screen.

you couldn't ask for a girlfriend who understood your passion better. but maybe this time you were...a little too passionate.

it really started when the next big slasher hit theaters, a solid hit with the at first glance simple plot of a psychotic butcher chasing down. a group of college kids who mistakenly stumbled into his shop. everywhere you went people were raving about it, gassing up the style, the characters, the gore, saying it'd be one of the next greats. so of course you wanted to be there opening weekend comfy in a reclining seat with an overpriced popcorn in one hand and a way too big soda in the other.

so of course luck would have it that you randomly fell sick that weekend, stuck in bed with a crazy fever. then the weekend after that a giant storm left you no choice but to cancel your plans, then next week your car had troubles-

safe to say, you were incredibly thankful that theaters quickly gave up on films and sent them to streaming. while you were upset you wouldn't get the full theater experience, when vi recommended an at home movie night date you couldn't pass it up.

and so there you were, snuggled in a comfy pajama set with a bowl of popcorn on your coffee table as you curled up into the side of your butch. you loved the movie, but most of all you loved the killer. a simple yet oh so intimidating design, you admired the bloodied butcher as it dropped a meat cleaver into another unlucky victim.

"jesus, those reviews weren't kidding." vi whispered under her breath, eyes wide and face bright from the colors of the screen.

you gently jabbed your elbow into her side, "aww, don't tell me your scared, baby."

"oh you wish. this movie is great, i've already got my next halloween costume down."

it was...inexplicable, the reaction you had. it was almost like your brain short circuited, rebooting until the only thing you could seen in your mind was vi, your sweet strong and incredibly built girlfriend standing above you in the same costume on screen.

okay, maybe it was explainable - it made you horny. but to be fair, you were shocked at it yourself. you'd heard of some girls thirsting over numerous masked and sinister killers in horror, but you'd never felt any such attraction.

but now your imaging vi in that way, able to see her chasing you down so clearly it makes your heart race.

and of course she noticed, because your love noticed everything about you. her eyes drifted across your face, noticing how your wide eyes were tracked on the screen like it was your job, how you licked and bit your lips and took in stuttered breaths.

and oh, did she revel in it.

she didn't bring it up again until that yearly costume party was creeping around the corner, and she tried not to laugh when you not so suavely suggested that you might as well dress up as the final girl from the movie, for consistency purposes of course.

she also had to hide her smugness seeing your reaction to her stepping out in the costume for the first time. she could see your eyes trailing over her bar arms, the fake (and edible, for reasons) blood decorating her skin and the brown leather apron that stretched across her torso. if she didn't have a plan for you that night, she would have said screw the party and taken you on the couch at the drop of her plastic meat cleaver. but of course, good things come to those who wait.

but waiting doesn't mean behaving. she acted properly during the first few hours of the party, posing for pictures with your mutual friends and taking delight in eating the themed goodies laid out. but it wasn't long until she started to tease, coming up behind you and wrapping you in her arms, biting her lip when she could subtly feel you relaxing in her arms before trying to push yourself back into her.

it got to the point where she just had to take pity on you, with only a few more touches and hidden squeezes bringing out your clinginess as you practically glued yourself to her side, arms wrapped around her bicep as you stared up at her with those eyes you just knew she couldn't resist.

as soon as you stepped into the doorway of your house she was on you, hands squared on your shoulders as she pushed you into the wall behind you, her hips pushing into yours in just the right way that you swore you'd lose your mind.

"oooh, someone's eager huh? y'know, i had a feeling you were always into roleplay, but i couldn't imagine this -"

"vi, c'mon, please. just, j-just -" you whined, half out of arousal and half out of embarrassment at being so.

"just what, huh pretty? tell me what you want and ill give it to you."

you bite your lip, eyes darting to the side as you debated on if you were really ready to go that far. but then one of her gloved hands is coming up to your face, a finger pulling your lip out of your hold. its only when you see her blue eyes zero in on a spot beneath your face that you know she left a trail of the fake blood, both of your breaths hitching in your throats.

"do you...do you still have that camcorder in your closet?"

"oh my god, oh my god, 'h my...god!"

you don't register the woman above you loud laughing at your moans, nor do you pick up on the handheld camera still recording every reaction om your face. all you can focus on is the absolutely debilitating pressure in your cunt, your girlfriend's strap down right splitting you open as she fucks you almost like she hates you. the thought sends a shiver down your spine, drawing out more mewls that are muffled by the plush of your rug when your head plops onto the ground before one of her hands is wrapping in your hair and tugging you up, not wanting to miss even a second of you.

"god damn, who knew i'd get this pretty little slut alll to myself tonight, huh?" she grunts, a yellow glove digging into the dip of your back to make you arch even more for her, to take everything she's giving you.

like you had a choice. not that you really want one, anyway.

"aww, poor baby keeps drifting out of it. maybe i should take pity on her and stop -"

her fake pouting rings in your brain and is followed by her hips slowing down, her strap starting to slip out of you before you thrust yourself back into her, letting out a moan do loud if you weren't so far gone you'd be mortified, but at the moment you cant find it in yourself to care.

"n-no! no no no no please don't stop, 'can take it, promise." you intermittently thrust your hips back as you whine, even looking back and up at her and trying your best at the puppy eyes she seems to always do so well, eager to do anything if it means she'll keep fucking you.

and when you gaze up at her looking like that, big round eyes complemented by ruined makeup, your kissed and bitten tits hanging out of your costume top right in the view of the camera, not to mention the slightest glimpse of her strap peeking out from the end of the curve of your ass, how on earth could she even think of not giving in to you?

most of the time she would drag this out, edge you until you were begging and crying for her just to brush a hand over your thigh. but maybe tonight she'll go easy on you, just because she's feeling nice.

so she sets the camcorder a the perfect angle on the table, grips both of your hips in her palms, and starts to absolutely wreck your world.

she truly cant wait for when she'll be watching this footage back over with you later, how you'll groan and push at her out of embarrassment when you witness just how desperate you are in this moment, meeting each one of her thrusts with a vigor she hasn't yet seen and moaning so loudly she's sure you'll be receiving a message from your landlord in the morning.

and she knows in the future you'll be pestering her too, because just in the crack of the constant plaplaplap! of your hips and the gorgeous ass noises slipping from between your lips she can hear herself, too, strained little grunts and cut off growls of "so perfect, so damn perfect for me," and "takin it so well, god, knew you wouldn't run from this-"

her hand yet again comes up to you, only this time wrapping around your neck to arch you even further back for her to press a sloppy kiss to your lips, cold fake blood smearing over your mouths. it's only when you blink up at her and see her smiling while licking the blood off of her lips that you cum, sight going white as you clamp down so hard on to her strap she struggles to keep fucking you through it as she carries both of you through your shared moments of bliss.

its a sweet silence as you both come down from your highs, your body relaxing into the carpet before she gently slips the toy from inside you and off of her hips, quickly turns off the camcorder and maneuvers you both on to the couch, pulling a blanket over you as you settle into the softness of her chest.

vi is the first to break the silence, pressing a plethora of sweet kisses to your head, "so, how did you like it?"

"ugh, don't make me answer, you already know." you groan, digging your head into her shoulder in a pitiful attempt to escape her teasing.

"cmonnn, wont make fun of you, i promise. i wouldn't mind doing this again, y'know."

"...seriously?"

"hell yeah, that was...a lot more fun than i expected. maybe next time i could...i dont know, chas you through the woods or something. just an idea."

of course you notice just how quickly she came up with the idea, and of course she notices how your breath hitches the same way hers does.

[thecreelhouse]

stuck

Paring: Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Summary: Yes, it’s exactly what you think it is. MDNI

WC: 4.6k+

Includes: no plot all filth, unrealistic “stuck” porn trope, friends to horny idiots, dirty talk, pet names/name calling, unprotected PiV sex, oral (f receiving), briefest mention of monsterfucking, brief anal play, a smidge of humiliation kink with a healthy side of a praise kink, d/s dynamic, etc.

A/N: Literally got this idea from a certain filthy piece of DBD fanart that I can’t find, but if you know the one I’m talking about, please lmk so I can properly credit for the inspo!! Is this ridiculous? Yes. Was this originally for Halloween? Also yes. We hate rules here (and deadlines). Hope y’all enjoy it <3 (dividers from @/saradika-graphics)

Everyone told Steve he was insane to venture back into the Upside Down, but he couldn’t leave you there alone. 

He felt sick for even leaving you behind at all. Quite honestly, no one felt good about evacuating without you, but it was smarter to go home, gear up, grab another working walkie, before wandering back into hell to find you.

See, among the chaos of trying to help Eddie, trying to keep Max alive, he worried about you and your unusual absence from the group, but you were strong enough to handle nearly anything— that much, he was confident on. You had fought side by side with him over the years, protecting everyone in the group, and one another; through demodogs, a shit summer job gone awry, and anything in between, you could hold your own with a bravery he wished he didn’t need to front at times.

That didn’t quell his anxiety one bit, though. When and where you had disappeared to, he wasn’t sure.

It wasn’t until your voice broke through over the airwaves, when Steve, Eddie, Nancy, and Robin were on the lake, that he felt relief you were at least alive. Your voice was tinny through the static.

“Guys?”

The only reason a signal existed at all was because the group floated just above the gate at the bottom of the lake— they just didn’t know it yet.

Steve had just thrown his sweater off, ready to dive in, when the sound of your voice made his eyes widen. 

“Holy shit, give me the—“ He rocked the tiny boat a little too much for anyone’s comfort as he fell to his knees, grabbing the walkie from the floor. “Where the fuck are you?!”

“Hi to you too, Harrington.”

Robin yanked the device from Steve’s grip, “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Long fuckin’ story, but—“ Your voice cut out, static filling the dead air for a few seconds. “And that’s—“ Cut off again. “Upside Down, but I- I don’t know where I am, exactly. Why didn’t any of y’all tell me how bad this place sucks?”

Steve laughed to himself, unaware his eyes became glassy, hearing the familiar attitude and sailor’s mouth you carried; the other three noticed just how relieved and emotional he was right away. He grabbed the walkie back from Robin with shaky hands.

“We’re gonna come find you, we think we found a gate,” He rushed out. “Are you safe at least?”

“For now, but these—“ Signal cutting out, Steve hit the walkie a few times, as if that’d fix the disconnect between literal dimensions. “— Th- they’re everywhere. I don’t know where to hi— oh, shit—“ Your end fell dead again, leaving the four on edge, waiting for you to speak. White noise droned on for less than a minute; you weren’t coming back. 

Wasting not a second longer, Steve dove into the dark, chilled waters of the lake. He found the gate they suspected of, and broke the surface to alert his friends. As he relayed the information, rushed and panicked, wanting to find you as soon as possible, something tugged on his leg. Only startling the group at first, Steve was caught off guard, pulled under, back down to the bottom. He kicked, struggled, lungs burning as he fought off the urge to gasp for a breath he couldn’t dare to take.

It was all a blur, being dragged through the gate and tossed around like a rag doll; the bats diving towards him, finding an oar to defend himself with among the Upside Down’s mirrored decay of the lake, only to be bombarded by the gnarly creatures. They tore at his flesh as he was being strangled to death; brain growing fuzzy as he put up a good fight, he began to accept this fate. He wasn’t sure when his friends came through the gate, but one by one they retaliated against the bats, leaving just the one still strangling Steve.

“Get fucked!”

Unexpectedly, you appeared, slamming an ax— one you always left in your trunk, just in case�� down onto one of its wings, chopping through completely, yet it still tried to flee as Steve bit down on its tail. Stunned, you all watched as Steve swung it around, slamming it down into the ground before violently ripping its spine out, fueled by pure rage.

Blood dripped from his mouth while he glanced up at you, rage and fear fading as relief flooded every inch of his heart. Despite your ragged appearance— covered in grime, soot, and blood— he was just happy to see you alive; a sight for sore eyes.

“I fuckin’ hate those things.” You wanted to run and hug him, but restrained yourself at the sight of his wounds. Taking in the sight of all four friends, you sighed, “Y’all okay?”

Another screech in the sky tore everyone’s attention away, “C’mon!” Where everyone ran off to the rocks, you made the mistake of running off in the opposite direction. The group of bats split off, heading towards both you and the others; when you looked over your shoulder, you watched Steve do the same, panic fueling you both to run for your lives.

You sprinted off towards the woods, hoping you’d find each other again soon, and alive.

Steve climbed back through the gate in Eddie’s trailer, and had searched for what felt like hours; he was losing hope of finding you by the minute. He knows you; you wouldn’t give up without a fight. You had to be alive, but dread was still building within him.

At least he caught a signal over the walkies.

“What do you mean you’re stuck?”

Your voice warbles through the speaker of Steve’s walkie, barely coherent through the sharp static. 

“Okay, okay, where are you?”

“The— g—“ Feedback rips through your words, shrill and sharp. “I’m tr—“

“You’re cutting out—“

“Gate! I’m—“ A drone of white noise floods the speaker, and you’re gone.

“Shit. Fuck. God-fucking-dammit!” He hits the device with his free hand, slams the buttons and messes with the knobs and antenna— if only he actually paid attention when Dustin tried showing him how to work this fucking thing.

He did hear you say ‘gate’ at least, but which one? You clearly weren’t at the one he just entered, and the one at the lake had closed up by now. 

This would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.

Steve’s exhausted, searching high and low for you, at every possible spot that crosses his mind. It had to have been another hour since he last heard from you, and he’s running out of ideas of where you could be.

“Checked around town,” He begins murmuring to himself, listing and eliminating options out loud. “No luck there… but— shit, didn’t check the library…” Could a gate even open in there? Anywhere was possible, right? And if that was the case, he’d have to tear through every room of every building, circle each structure, check any cars, houses, sheds, backyards, parks, the woods—

Christ, at this rate, he’ll never find you—

“Oof!” Steve loses his footing, tumbling over something in the stretch of woods he was combing through. Colliding with the ground, he groans on impact.

“What the fuck?”

Steve rolls over quickly, sitting up to find he had tripped over you.

“Oh, thank fuck.” He scrambles to his feet, brushing debris off his body as he finally glances your way.

When you said you were stuck, Steve didn’t picture the sight before him now; you, halfway through a gate found in a tree trunk, unable to move because it began to close up around your waist. Your upper half is on the other side, but your bottom half is still stuck in the Upside Down.

“Oh…. You’re… wow, okay.” He snickers, “Yeah. You’re stuck, alright.”

Steve’s muffled cackling echoes through the slimy gate. You huff and roll your eyes; not like he can see.

“Just help me out of here, would ya’?!”

“Okay, okay… Jesus.” He drops to his knees, still towering over you— well, your back half, at least. “Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s just fucking annoying. Maybe try, I dunno, pulling at the edges of it, or something?”

“I don’t think that’s how these things work—“

“Steve!”

“Okay, right, yeah, sorry.” He bites his bottom lip, stifling more laughter. It’s certainly an… awkward position, leaning over you from behind, but it’s the only way he can pull at the edges with both hands at once. He gives the gate’s edge a tug, but it’s stone solid. He tries again, this time with a grunt that has your mind wandering elsewhere. “Yeah, this is, uh… that’s not gonna work.”

“Oh my god, I’m stuck here forever,” You groan, kicking your feet. “I’m gonna die here.”

“Calm down, drama queen. Gimme a second, I’ll try again.” Steve keeps himself balanced on one knee, while the other leg plants a steady foot into the ground. Again, he attempts to pry open the gate, hoping to free you; his foot slips, causing him to rub against your backside.

Okay, ‘rub’ is a generous term— more like roughly falling against your ass, then whining over the pressure on his bulge.

“Steve, what the fuck?” You crane your neck, only able to see where the tree bark opens up into the gate, snug around your waist. “Did you just—“

“I didn’t mean to, I swear! M- my foot slipped!”

“Oh, bullshit.”

“Look, it’s not exactly the easiest to move around you without touching you right now,” He argues. “You really think I’m trying to make a move on you in a situation like this?!”

“Well, I can’t see shit, Harrington. I don’t know what the hell’s going on back there.”

Ignoring you, Steve murmurs, more to himself but loud enough for you to still hear, “The hell are you wearing these tiny shorts for, anyway?” He tugs at the hem around your thigh, elastic snapping back against your skin. You bite back whatever pathetic noise threatens to escape your lips.

“It was warm out earlier!”

“It’s March—“

“And unreasonably warm for March, y- you jerk.”

“That why you’re shivering?”

“Considering the sun set, uh, yeah?”

You grumble, annoyed how wet this easily has made you. You need out, and Steve needs out, too, and the two of you need to just forget about all of this.

“Okay, just—“ You can’t think straight, mind clouded with dirty thoughts— how embarrassing. “Push me through.”

“You… want me to push you… how?”

“With your hands, St—“

“I know with my h— I meant, like, where?”

You can’t see the way he licks his lips, staring at your ass, but you sure can hear the strangled moan he miserably tries to hide in his throat. 

“Wherever works— I don’t know, I’ve never been stuck between dimensions before!”

He shudders a breath before calling through the gate, “I’m gonna— if I touch anything I shouldn’t, I swear to god I’m not trying to—“

“Okay, yeah, I get it, Steve— just push me out of here!”

“Christ, you’re fucking bossy…”

His hands grip the plush of your hips, first, hoping he can grip hard enough and push this way— it’s useless; his hands lose grip, sliding up your body. His knuckles run into the tree, and he’s grateful for that barrier; who knows how far his hands could’ve slipped. He yelps and recoils away. “Sorry!”

“Dude, I don’t care, just do whatever works.” You sound exhausted, and who wouldn’t be in a situation like this? You had to have been here at least an hour, and even if it doesn’t hurt, it can’t be very comfortable. 

Steve shakes his nerves off, hands reaching for the back of your thighs; his fingers splay apart, pushing as hard as he can, and you finally begin to budge. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

Until you cry out for him to stop. “Shit, that fuckin’ hurts— It’s— ow, fuck! My hips—”

He immediately backs off, hands releasing pressure, but still resting gently on your thighs. It’s automatic, the way his thumbs rub slow circles into your exposed skin to try comforting you; the shorts you’re wearing are not helping either of you. It was warm out earlier, like you said, but did you have to wear these now?

Goosebumps prickle up under his fingers, and it’s hard to miss the way you clench your thighs together. 

“You, uh…” Steve gulps, fingers gently kneading at the meat of your thighs. “You okay over there?”

“Uh-huh,” Your answer isn’t very convincing, with a trembling voice. “Everything okay back there? W- with you, I mean.”

“Sure, yeah, it’s… I’m good.” He feels like such a pervert, fantasizing about taking you right here, like this. It’s wrong when you’re trapped like this. “Honey, I- I don’t know what else to do.”

The pet name twists at a coil deep within you, building up a pressure of some kind. 

“This is gonna sound fucked up, but just— push my ass— Steve, that better not be you laughing!”

He can’t hold back his immature giggling, but he’d rather this than moan.

“You sure? I don’t want you to get mad or anything.” He tries to settle down, focus on getting you unstuck. “Tell me to stop if it hurts again, alright?”

You imagine hearing those words of sweet consent in a different circumstance, biting back a whimper. “Ye- yeah, I will.”

Steve slides his hands up to the curve of your ass, unable to restrain himself before digging his fingers into your soft, plushy body. “Gonna count down, sweetheart, okay?”

This time a whimper does beat you to the punch before you can actually reply. He squeezes a little harder.

“Three… two… one—“ Steve shoves his hands against you, pushing as hard as he can. Again, your hips shove up against the tree trunk, and you cry out from the pinch. He pulls you back an inch, wincing with guilt. “M’sorry, I—“

“Again,” You boldly call back to him.

“… You sure?”

“Just do it, please,” His hands are so warm, touch so soft; you wish the fabric of your shorts would just disappear. There’s an extra whine to your voice, “Don’t hold back, I can take it.”

“Oh, fuck…” He mumbles, sucking in a sharp breath. “Go— I’m gonna try again, ready?” He hears a faint noise of consent, shoving himself into you; this time, his hips rut into you, too. You still can’t get through the gate, but you’re not sure that’s either of your concern at this moment. His bulge, rock-hard now, brushes up against your ass, and you both moan out. This is bad.

The way you push back against him isn’t helping much, either.

Both of you still, falling silent while trying to steady your breaths. Are you really about to do this here? Now?

Steve makes the decision for you both, muttering, “I can’t fuckin’ take it anymore.” He’s purposefully grinding against you, head lolling back with a groan as you push into him in return. From either end, both of you are shuddering out sinful noises. “Always wanted to kiss you first, but—“

“As soon as you rescue me, y’can kiss me all ya’ want.”

“Shit, princess, never took you for the damsel in distress type.” He tugs your shorts down, choking on air when he discovers you’re completely nude underneath. “Jesus, did you think at all about your outfit today?”

“Uh, considering I don’t have a bra on… no.”

“You don’t have a—“ Steve comically pouts that part of you is through the other side of the gate; he’s grateful you can’t see the pathetic expression. “What, did you just roll outta bed and stroll down here?”

“Steve, the longer we talk about the logistics of my outfit, the dryer I’m becoming.”

“Good thing I can help with that.”

“Okay, that was goofy to s— oh…” His thumbs spread your folds apart; despite your failed quip, you’re soaked as sin. 

“So fuckin’ pretty…” He leans down, kissing the swell of your ass, trailing his lips down your backside until he’s level with your heat. There’s no warning, just his tongue gliding along your folds, lapping up your arousal. A feral sounding groan vibrates through your core as he loses himself tasting you. It’s not rushed— not on purpose, at least— but any restraint is long gone now.

“Oh m’god,” You shudder while his tongue swirls around your clit, sucking it softly. His arms wrap around your thighs from behind, hooking you in place. You twitch back, like you’re desperate to grind on his face, but worried to freak him out.

Steve’s far from freaked out; in fact, he’s delving his tongue deeper, nearly incoherent when he mirrors your earlier words, “Don’t hold back. I can take it.”

That’s all the permission you need, rolling your body back as far as the gate allows, trembling as he sloppily makes out with your cunt. If only you could see the glistening mess on his pretty features. “Steve…”

He angles his nose against your clit just right, making you squeal into the empty forest around you. His tongue laps away, eventually tapering to fuck into you with it.

“Fuck, more, ple- please,” You pant, grateful Steve’s holding you upright, or you’d go limp against the tree. “Please— god!”

He slides a finger into you, curling it just right as he kisses and sucks back to your clit. He’s rougher this time when he suckles on the sensitive bud, rolling your eyes back and tensing your body up. You chant his name in whimpers, like a desperate prayer, only urging him to finger fuck you harder.

“Jesus, sweetheart, you’re gripping me so hard.” He groans into you, adding another finger. “Taste so good, I could be here all night—“

An orgasm startles you, going 0 to 100 without warning; lewd noises floating back through the gate toward Steve only challenge him to keep going.

“S- Steve, ha- hang on—“

“You want me to stop?” He slows his pace, but you ram yourself back into his hand and lips.

“No! Please, god, no—“

“Then what is it?” His tongue flits out, teasing around your sensitive nub.

“M- move your fingers up, back where you had it— ohhhmyfuckinggod—“

“C’mon, come for me, y’can do it again,” he coaxes, spitting onto your folds while relentlessly ruining you with his thick, long fingers. Your legs tremble wildly. “I can tell you’re close, angel. Make a mess, come for me again—“

This time, you cry out, praying whatever woods you found yourself in was deep enough, away from the public. Your hips twitch and convulse, while you flutter around his digits, soaking his face while he continues to delve deeper, as if that’s even possible.

The pumping pace of his fingers never relents, despite how overstimulated you feel already.

“St- Steve…”

“Got one more in ya’?” You feel his hot breath fanning over your folds again. It’s not long before he’s flicking his tongue back out, teasing your clit while adding another finger. “Christ… yeah… yeah, angel, that’s it…” He laps at the nectar dribbling from your centre, grunting as his free hand pulls you by your thigh, guiding you to bounce against his face. The fingers buried in you curl just right, earning a broken, breathy noise from the other side; he hits the right spot, and under a minute in, you’re gushing against his pretty face.

You can hear how drenched he is when he speaks, licking his lips between his words, “That was… oh, fuck, that… that was so… can we do that every day?”

Winded, you manage to laugh weakly, “If you can figure out how to get me un-stuck, I’ll let you do that as much as you fuckin’ want.”

You’d kill to see his face right now, dripping with your release, but until then you’ll just need to use your imagination.

“…. Can we—“

“Please.”

The head of his cock slides along your folds, teasing as it runs over your sensitive clit. You jolt back, and he grips you by the hip, holding you in place with one hand.

“Be patient for me, angel. I don’t wanna hurt you,” he slides in, taking his time, paying attention to your gasps. “You okay?”

“Uh-huh, ju- just go slow.”

Like earlier, when Steve tried pushing you through the gate, he soothes you with his touch, thumbs rubbing soft circles against your skin. He sinks a bit further, feeling you clench around him with anticipation. “Angel, gotta relax to let me in…”

“I- I know, m’trying, you’re just— you’re so… so…”

“Shhh, it’s okay, I have you. You’re okay…” He slides deeper, hips almost flush against your backside. “Just relax… that’s it, that’s my girl.”

The praise elicits a pornographic moan out of you, only triggering his cock to twitch against your walls.

“God, wish I could see your face right now,” his mumbling fades into a gravelly groan, sinking deep into you. 

“Y’can if you fuck me when we’re outta here,” you strain out, taking him to the hilt. His cock twitches again, making you both shudder.

“I dunno, what if we can’t get you out, sweetheart?” The tides turn with his tone. He pulls out slowly, teasing your clit with the head of his cock. You twitch and clench around nothing, making him smirk. “What if you’re stuck here forever?” Slamming back into you, your walls clamp down on him, tighter than before. “Oh, what, you like that idea?”

“Steve…”

“You wanna be left here? Where anyone can walk by, use you however they want?” He draws back, snapping his hips back into your ass, relishing in the way you cry out. “Anyone can find you in the woods over there, use that pretty mouth of yours…” Gripping your hips, he pulls back slowly, thrusting in with everything he’s got. It’s becoming a torturous pattern, but he can tell you’re enjoying it with the way you’re soaking his cock. 

“Oh my— fuck…” You gasp from the other side, throwing yourself back into him as far as the gate allows you. He grunts as you meet his thrusts.

“You’d be up for grabs over here too, y’know…” Hands trailing back to your ass, he spreads your cheeks, spitting lewdly on your pretty, puckered hole. “But maybe you’re not that much of a freak—“ You don’t hold back the sinful sound building in your throat over his unfinished concept. “Oh. Oh. You’d like gettin’ fucked by some monsters too, huh? That’s so fuckin’ gross, babe.”

“That ain’t even the half of it,” you manage to reveal through panting and whimpering.

His mind races over the possibilities, slamming into you a little faster.

Steve circles the tight entrance with the pad of his thumb, throbbing deep inside you as he tests the waters, sinking in just a bit. You squirm and whine, relaxing as he continues on, eventually making it past his knuckle— which, wouldn’t be too much, but with the size of his hands, you feel so full off that alone.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, I don’t think I’ll l- last long,” he murmurs while he pistons his hips into you, growing sloppier by the minute. 

“S’okay… m’not…” You can’t grasp onto the words you need, not when he’s fucking you absolutely brainless between dimensions. “God, Steve, you’re so deep.”

His thumb slips out of you, leaving you emptier than before, making desperate, pathetic mewls and cries. Ignoring you, his hand slides underneath, pressing down onto the peak of your mound. “Where do you feel me? Here?”

“N- no, deeper…”

Steve splays his hand wide, fingers blanketing over your skin; he inches his touch up, just where your belly and pelvis begin to meet. The further he stretches his touch, the more he leans over you, kissing along any bare skin on your back he can reach.

“Here?”

You shake your head, but he can’t see. Your lapse in verbal response earns a smack on your ass, causing you to cry out into the expanse of the woods. 

“Where, babe? Tell me.”

“Up,” whimpering, you push back into him. Hand gliding up to your belly button, he stops.

“Here?”

Eyes rolling back, you let out a broken sob, “Yes!”

Steve pushes down on your belly, just enough for the pressure to meet his thrusts.

“You’re takin’ me like a slut… sound like one, too.” He grunts while bucking wildly into you. His hand disappears, only to join the other in grabbing you by the thighs, nearly lifting your lower half off the ground against him.

The sound is absolutely what you’d expect from two, hopelessly horny idiots, fucking in a circumstance like this one right here. Skin on skin slapping roughly, echoing out into the woods of the Upside Down, in time with his near-feral grunts and throaty groans. On your side, in your world, you can only imagine how close to an injured animal you might sound like, or someone in actual distress, unable to cover your mouth as you hold yourself up while he fucks into you relentlessly.

“M’pretty close, angel,” Steve pants through the gate, hips stuttering while he still gives his all, thrusting mercilessly into you. “Where—  where can I—“

“‘Side…” You groan out, lost in a lust-driven delirium.

Attitude softening, he manages to ask, “In— you mean inside?”

“Uh-huh, wanna be full,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear. “Make me yours—“

“Oh, fuck,” Steve’s hips freeze over your words, finally reaching his high. One final cry tears out of you as your fourth and final orgasm trembles through your body, rolling into his. The delicious squeeze and fluttering around him helps milk his release, doing just as you asked, filling you up with his spend. 

Involuntarily, his entire lower half twitches violently into you, and finally, finally, the gate gives, allowing him to tumble through to the other side, shoving you out first. He lands on top of you, rolling over onto the forest floor while you both groan. The woods are quiet, aside from occasional crickets and your loud, ragged breaths, weaving through the branches above.

Though the two of you are ready to fully collapse, the squelching sound of the gate constricting catches your attention; the damn thing closes completely.

Steve chuckles weakly, while you push past any shame that might still linger, shyly smiling over at him.

“Hey…” You attempt to greet him, now that you’re face to face— which, speaking of, his features are still glistening from sweat and your multiple releases. 

“Hi,” he breathes, eyes trailing over your figure, landing and pausing on your exposed core, dripping a lewd mixture of fluids. “Fuck…” He leans forward, but stops himself, mumbling, “If we weren’t in the woods, I’d, uh, help clean you up, but…”

Your eyes widen, taking in his words; neither of you are in a state to fuck around any further, but you make a mental note of the suggestion for the future. “I’m— I’ll remember that.”

Surging towards him with an ounce of renewed energy, you capture his lips in a long-awaited kiss. He makes the cutest noise of surprise, melding against you. Pausing, he murmurs against your lips, “Sorry we couldn’t do that first.” It’s a wild shift in his demeanor post-sex, from a dominant, feral wreck, to this soft, precious person before you.

“We can make up for it though.”

“After a super long fuckin’ nap.” Then he cringes, “And the— y’know, the whole—“ He waves his hand around, rolling his eyes, “the Vecna thing.”

“Right. Yeah. Priorities.” You’re looking forward to all of this coming to an end. All you want is to curl up in bed with Steve, and sleep a whole day away, but that’ll have to wait. 

As clarity brings you back down to earth, you realize you’re still naked from the waist down… which means— 

“Um… Steve?”

“Yeah, angel?”

“… Where’s my shorts?”

[darkacademicvibes]

Kiss It Better?

Theodore Nott x Fem!Slytherin Reader

CW: Blood is kind of vividly described, slightly obsessed/dirty minded Theo

Theo entered the Great Hall grumbling.

He sat down grumbling.

And he glared at his utensils grumbling.

You share a look with Pansy, curious and amused, "Theo? What s'a matter?" you ask, leaning in to speak quietly.

The smooth, albeit grumpy italian falling from his lips trails into silence as he glances at your shared friends, unsure whether or not he was willing to tell you - and realistically speaking, the others - about the frankly humiliating situation that had him in such a foul mood.

He knew he was probably being dramatic, but he'd never fucked up like he had this time, and a part of him was deeply - though probably unreasonably -embarassed."Tell you later" he mumbles, his right hand picking up his fork as he stabs at the beans on his plate.

He ignores the questioning looks of the others, the stinging, and most of the loud conversations in the great hall as he keeps his left hand firmly beneath the table, wiping blood on the low hem of his white uniform shirt. He'd never cared much for it anyway, this way he had a reason to wear something other than the stuffy hogwarts shirts in the hot classrooms.

So perhaps there was somewhat of a silverlining to the situation he found himself in.

Eventually, students begin to trickle out of the Great Hall and towards their prefect or head duties, or their common rooms - You and Theodore amongst them - he hesitates as you both enter the slytherin common room, gently grasping your wrist and leading you up to your own dorm. Your first aid kit never stung as much as his, perhaps because you got the good products, and none of them were expired, which he wasn't particularly aching to hear about the riviting affects of not taking proper care of his bumps and scrapes for a third time this month.

He also really didn't want you questioning the flowers tossed (delicately placed) alongside the thin drips of red against his green covers.

"Theo?" you mumble, letting him lead you along as he continues hiding his left hand from your view. He doesn't answer, stopping only to drop your wrist and open your dorm door, you allow him to tug you wordlessly into your dorms bathroom, repating yourself.

"Teddy?"

He groans, reluctantly showing you his hand, blood dripping down his fingertips from the mean cut along the back of his pointer and middle fingers, he'd bled a decent bit, but the drips were more of an occasional trickle of red against his tan skin. "I.. fuck- I got distracted dethorning roses in herbology" he mumbles, refusing to meet your eyes as you guide his fingers over the sink, running a gentle stream of warm water over his bloodied fingers, the watery red dripping down your palm as he watches, something about it making his jaw tick.

"Why were you dethorning roses? I thought you were meant to be trimming venemous tentacula?"

For you.

For your halloween - or, really autumn solstice - ball outfit you'd been mentioning to Pansy that morning at breakfast.

That's exactly what he didn't say.

Couldn't say.

"I did, and then I got bored" he grumbles, itallian accent thick as he winces, watching you clean out the jagged marks along his fingers with your own before gently drying them off. The bleeding has entirely stopped now, but it still stings terribly as you disinfect them, getting ready to place two fresh bandaids over them. He pulls back his hand slightly, and it makes you pause.

"Do you want me to kiss them? So they get better?" you ask quietly, your fingers tacing his palm soothingly.

He swallows the lump in his throat, his baby brown eyes dropping to your lips.

"That works?" he nearly croaks. Fuck - if Mattheo could see him now he'd have a fit. Maybe he'd laugh so hard he'd choke and die so Theo wouldn't have to kill him for it.

You nod softly, gently tugging at his sleeve. "Mhm, my mum used to do it when I was little" you tilt your head.

"Yeah, s'alright then" he grumbles, just trying not to sound like he was about to lose his mind over the fact she was going to fucking kiss it better.

Shit, maybe he should ask Mattheo to punch him in the dick.

You press gentle kisses to both cuts, wrapping bandaids around his fingers after.

"All better" you hum, smiling up at him.

He nods stiffly, his newly fixed up hand tangling into your hair as he guides your head to his chest in a hug. "Thanks, doc, 'nything else I gotta do?" he mumbles, mostly joking. He'd do anything for you, maybe that was a part of the reason he was so fucked in the head, 'cause he couldn't get you out of it.

"Mh, just be careful, Teddy" you huff, and he has to hold back a groan. He had to leave before you called him that again, before you said anything that would make him want to drag you to your bed and make you ruin your sheets.

"I will, I gotta go meet Mattheo, love" he lies through his teeth. He needs a smoke before he goes fucking crazy. He places a lingering kiss to the top of your head before bidding you goodnight and leaving the girls dorms.

There wasn't a lot of things you loved more than your friends, but perhaps the way Theodores low murmur of italian slips through his lips against your forehead could be one of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He's driving himself fucking mad, the memory of your lips against his ripped open skin replaying in his mind like a fucking charmed camera had snapped in his brain at the perfect moment.

His knee bounces quickly as he sits with Mattheo and Draco, blowing through cigarettes like they're candy straws. You'd given him candy straws once - muggle ones he'd split with you. He'd taken the lemon, cherry, and blue raspberry ones and you'd kept the rest.

"Fucking hell, spit it out- before you drive us up the wall with you" Draco mumbles, flicking his cigarette butt over the side of the astronomy tower, and it makes him glare. You didn't like when people did that, it was why he stopped.

"I can't get her outta my fuckin' head" Theodore breathes, inhaling the poison into his lungs near desperately. Mattheo smirks, distracted by the few people millng about the ground below, "what's new?" he breathes, exhaling the smoke in his own lungs.

Theos knee stops bouncing as a wild, stupid, fucking genious idea slipped into his mind.

"Draco, I need you to do somethin'" Theo sits up, flicking his cigarette onto the floor and stepping on it before exhaling the last of the addictive smoke.

The boy in question groans, "fuckin' depends. what." he snaps, and a cheeky smirk tugs at Theos lips.

"Punch me in the mouth."Mattheo sits up, looking oddly like he'd struck gold as he inhales.

"What the fuck? Why?" Draco scoffs, and Mattheos eyes widen in a near giddy excitment.

"'Cause Theo's a fuckin' freak that knows if he goes to Y/n she'll kiss it all better" Mattheo taunts. Draco raises an amused brow as Theo shrugs noncommitally.

"You sure?" Draco muses, and Theo can only shrug again. Draco and Mattheo share a look and suddenly Mattheo's on his feet, brown eyes wild with excitement.

"How hard?" he grins and Theo follows suit, tugging off his sweater, leaving him in dark jeans and a white t-shirt.

"As long as I bleed, I don't fucking care"

Mattheo cracks his knuckles."How many times?"

"Twice."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second you saw Theo you were on your feet and practically running to his side, much to his obvious delight as you examine his split lip and the bleeding cut along to bridge of his nose. "Teddy, what happened?" you ask, worried, as your thumb traces the bruising around the cut on his nose.

He tips his head down, pretending that the way he presses his cheek into your palm is an accident as he 'reacts' to the light pressure you're appyling to his (very, very, hurt - if you asked) nose.

His eyes flicker to Mattheo for barely a moment, and he has to bite harshly at his lower lip to keep himself from smirking, the familiar metal taste flooding his tongue.

"Just an argument, ragazza dolce" (sweet girl) he nearly coos the nickname, and you don't know what it means, but it makes you flush a subtle pink nonetheless.

"Can you fix me up, love? Hurts" he grumbles, practically chewwing on his split lower lip as you take his hand. He intertwines your fingers as he lets you lead him up to your bathroom this time.

He leans against the edge of the counter, spreading his legs for you to stand between as you tip his chin down so you can properly fix up his nose.

He waits patiently for you to clean his nose, gluing it up and applying the thin white strips of whatever properly. He never took as much care of himself as you do, that's why he goes to you. He loves how much you care - loves watching the worried way your teeth tug at you own lip whenever he winces. It's never as bad as it looks, not that he'd ever tell you that.

You move to begin on his lip and he leans down slightly, gazing at her warmly, "c'mon love.. not gonna kiss this one better? S'hurting" he mumbles, and you can't help but mumur an apology as his hands find their way around your lower back to press you just slightly closer to his chest as he dips his head to allow you to lightly kiss the cut along his nose.

He knows he's being greedy when his hands fall to the backs of your thighs and knead at the skin as your fingers gently clean his bleeding lip, and when his eyes watch your teeth chewing on your lip he knows asking you to bite his instead would be too much for such a sweet, worried, thing like you.

The last thing he wants is to spook his angel, but when you lift his chin slightly to double-check your work, he can't help the faux-innocent pout on his lips and the pleading gaze he doesn't have to fake.

"Not gonna kiss this one better?" he mumbles, and the butterflies in your stomach melt into a violent stampede urging you to do as he asks, no matter what he wanted.

He hums, leaning close enough for his nose to bump against yours playfully, "s'not gonna heal if you don't, y'know" he teases quietly, and your eyes meet his. They're dark in this lighting, or perhaps it has something to do with the way you could imagine your own skin bruising if he grips your legs any harder.

Something in the chocolate brown softens as you hesitate, and you see your Theodore, the one that listens to what people say and doesn't bother to ask if someone needs help - just doing it for them. Your Theo that has only let you call him teddy for as long as you can remember and who listens to quiet music with you, and doesnt complain when you talk endlessly about whatever had captured your attention that week. Your Theo that stopped smoking in class and throwing his cigarette butts anywhere except into bins, and always let you wear his spare quidditch jersey when the weather is less than stellar, and who was there for you when your ex cheated in fourth year and hasn't let himself leave your side since.

"Please?" he murmurs, and realize that, somehow, you've never been more comfortable with anyone than you are when you're with Theo. He's sweet, and funny, and you've always thought perhaps you could live in the way his clothes smell when you borrow them.

You've always thought of your best friend as safe, the warmth from him when he let his arm rest over the back of your chair, and the way he places his palm against your hip to guide you out of the path of excitable first years or redheads with matches and fireworks nearly tumbling from their pockets.

He feels like he could live forever in the moment your lips brush the dull sting on his, his fingers winding their way into your hair as he kisses you properly, his other hand cupping your cheek so sweetly it makes your knees go weak.

It's unbelieveably soft, nothing like the way he kisses the girls at parties, this kiss is important to him. He wants you to want to kiss him again, so lets himself slow down. It's the first time he's ever cared enough to want to.

His lips trace yours, and a metalic taste seeps into your mouth as you part your lips.

He only kisses you deeper, hating himself for needing to breathe when he pulls away, he could die breathless on your lips and it would be the one thing he'd never regret - not even if he got the chance.

His thumb follows, sweeping over your lips, collecting the messy red he left there and sweetly tracing, rubbing it into your lips like lipstick, his touch never forceful as blood drips down his chin.

He lets you clean him up again in silence, and when you're done for the second time, he smiles down at you, his hands thumbs tracing lines on your hips.

"Hey" you meet his eyes, bright, and so Teddy you almost can't stop yourself from smiling back.

Almost.

You smile at him anyway.

He nearly melts, like he was Draco when Hermione kissed him in sixth year.

Mattheo would laugh at him for this too, but Theo would simply wait until the H/R/S/G Mattheo was scaring himself falling for smiled at him for the first time after their first kiss.

"Are you sure that first 'get better' kiss worked?" he asks, and you know he's asking if you would ever want to kiss him again.

"I don't think so" you whisper, leaning up to gently place a short kiss to his split lip.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's too hot to bother playing quidditch as everyone sits together in the middle of the grassy pitch, nobody had expected for the last day of summer to be this hot - not when it had already started cooling into autumn, but nobody was complaining about the break from winds in corridors just cold enough to make you shiver as it crept up sleeves and skirts and under woolen jumpers.

Theos arm was around your shoulders, unlabed but each others, as he places a flower crown of dried red roses and pressed rosemary leaves into your lap.

"What's this?" you muse, gently picking it up and admiring it, how he'd crafted it was brilliant, a permenant sticking charm keeping the flowers and leaves together on a rose vine.

"That is why I was dethorning roses" he mumbles into your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your temple through your hair.

"For your autumn solstice ball dress" he adds, nuzzling his nose into your cheek to make you laugh.

"Thank you, Teddy" you smile, and he hums, "always, amore" he mumbles, placing his chin on your shoulder. "You'll go with me, won't you? To the dance?" he mumbles.

You smile, "I thought you weren't going?" you tease, and you feel his shoulders move in an unbothered shrug.

"If you're there, I'm there" he grumbles softly.

You might not have been his first anything, but you were the first one that mattered, and that'll never change.