#seems like a Halloween special type thing

[axeeglitter]

Melorius's shop: Fitting in

Felix adjusted his glasses and brushed a stray lock of hair from his face as he stepped into the costume shop, his slender frame almost swallowed by the oversized hoodie he always wore. Standing just a bit shorter than average, his narrow shoulders and slight build made him easy to overlook, especially with his soft, bookish features and perpetually messy hair. His hands were long and fine, fingers ink-stained from hours of note-taking, and his skin was pale from too many nights spent studying instead of seeing the sun. With his hunched posture and timid gait, Felix looked every bit the shy, kind-hearted geek who’d rather be reading about heroes than pretending to be one.

Felix opened the door of the old looking Costume’s shop; a bell rang as the door opened and its sound echoed between the dusty racks of costumes. Costumes crowded every corner, piled high in stacks and hung on hooks from the ceiling, casting odd, twisting shadows. He adjusted his glasses, blinking in the dusty light as he took it all in. The place seemed nearly forgotten, like it had been waiting for decades just for him.

"Excuse me?" he called out softly, his voice echoing a bit. "I'm looking for…um…a Spiderman costume, or really any superhero costume."

From behind a counter lined with old-fashioned masks, an elderly man emerged, smiling a bit too widely. His eyes glinted, as if he found Felix’s presence amusing. "Ah, superheroes. Everyone wants to be one," he mused, studying Felix with a strange intensity. "But I’m afraid you're a bit late, young man. All the superheroes are gone."

“Oh.” Felix sighed, glancing around as he tugged at his collar, feeling the cool, almost expectant air of the shop pressing in on him. "Do you have anything else? Something…kind of low-key? Anything cool will be perfect to be honest."

The man tilted his head thoughtfully, then reached under the counter. After a moment, he pulled out a different outfit, holding it up. It was a football quarterback uniform, complete with shoulder pads, a helmet, and a jersey bearing the number 11 in bold, almost intimidating font.

Felix felt his heart sink. "Uh… I’m not really the football type," he began, unsure how to say no.

But the man only smiled. "Halloween is a night for trying new things, isn’t it? You might find this… transformative." With a small wink, he pressed the costume into Felix’s hands, gesturing toward the dressing room in the back.

Reluctantly, Felix took it. The fabric felt strange under his fingers, thicker and heavier than he’d expected. With a last look at the old man, who was watching him with that same enigmatic smile, Felix ducked into the dressing room, closing the door behind him. He really didn’t want to try it on, specially because at college, he was bullied by the football team, especially Josh, one of the biggest douchebag earths has ever worn. He was everything Felix hated. Big, muscled piled on muscles, obnoxious, fucking everything he could find and worst of all, forcing his best friend Nathan to do his homework and terrifying the shit out of him.

Felix hesitated, looking at himself in the mirror. His slight frame, glasses, and messy hair were the epitome of what people at his college would call "nerdy." This costume was everything he wasn’t and everything he despised. But not wanting to appear rude, he slipped the jersey over his head, adjusting it as it clung uncomfortably close to his skin. Oddly, it felt warm, almost like it was… alive.

As he finsihed putting on the quaterback equipment and tugged the fabric of the jersey over his torso, a sharp, sudden pain blossomed across his chest. He gasped, clutching at his sides as a strange pressure spread through him. His chest muscles contracted and expanded, stretching outward with a force he couldn't control. The flat, narrow lines of his torso swelled as new muscle filled every inch, his chest pushing outward in thick slabs of pecs that strained against the jersey. With each breath, his pecs grew denser, pressing forward until they filled the front of the jersey, hard and defined.

“What…what is happening?” he whispered, trying to pull the jersey off, but his arms wouldn’t obey. He was frozen, forced to watch as the transformation moved to his shoulders and arms.

Pain surged through his shoulders as they broadened, the pads pressing down on him, molding his frame into something bigger, stronger. His deltoids pushed outward, rounding out, followed by his biceps, which bulged, straining the fabric with their new mass. Thick veins appeared along his forearms, pulsing with a warmth that was both exhilarating and terrifying. His hands changed too, the fingers thickening, becoming rough and calloused, palms broadening until they looked like they belonged to someone who’d spent years gripping footballs rather than comic books.

Each new jolt of growth felt like a small explosion, his nerves alive with the prickling of muscle fiber expanding and hardening beneath his skin. His legs cramped next, a powerful spasm that had him doubling over as his thighs and calves swelled. Muscles he’d never known he had bulged out, pressing against the fabric until the pants were stretched taut over thick quads and hamstrings that filled out with each second. He staggered, watching his thighs widen, hard and massive, his calves now like solid trunks that seemed rooted to the floor.

Felix started to feel an odd sensation creeping under his soles. Suddenly, he felt like they began to burn as they expanded within the cleats he had just put on. His toes thickened, his arches lifted, his entire foot stretching and swelling until they filled the once-loose cleats perfectly, now large and sturdy, every step grounding him with an unfamiliar weight.

The changes weren’t just physical. A strange heat built up within him, simmering in his core, moving down to his groin with an intensity he couldn’t ignore. He tried to fight it, his mind screaming for control, but his body surged ahead. His hips rolled slightly as his groin responded, thickening, growing, his manhood pressing uncomfortably against the waistband of his pants. He felt his shaft pulse and throb as it swelled, growing heavier, bigger, until it strained against the fabric, every inch filling him with an unsettling mix of power and shame. It was relentless, each throb amplifying the sensation, his groin now packed with a weight and presence that was almost dizzying. Even his balls grew, swelling until they hung heavily between his legs, pressing against his thighs, a constant reminder of the physicality that had taken over him.

As he looked down, horrified, he saw that his pubic area was now covered in a thick, wiry thatch of dark hair. Felix couldn’t even the skin under the hair anymore. Pure dark thick hair. It itched slightly, but there was no escaping the primal, raw feeling it gave him. His hands, now large and rough, instinctively went to adjust his groin, but he couldn’t control the action, it was like his body was reveling in its own size, flexing, posing.

His reflection sneered back at him, a cocky grin that made his skin crawl. His face had sharpened, his jawline strong and angular, his cheekbones high and defined. His eyes, once soft and shy, had become piercing, almost predatory. His hair had changed too, dark and thick, styled perfectly as though he’d just stepped out of a salon.

“Oh no… no, no, no…” he whispered, his voice deeper, resonant, filled with a confidence he didn’t feel. He tried to speak again, but it was like his voice had been absorbed, lost within the powerful timbre that echoed back at him.

Inside his mind, a voice spoke, smooth and arrogant, brimming with strength. “Looks like you’re ready to play, bro.”

“No! I’m not…I’m not…” he tried to say, but his own body laughed, a rich, self-assured chuckle that came from deep in his chest. It was like he was locked in a cage, forced to watch as his new form flexed and stretched, testing the limits of his newly thickened muscles. His hands slid over his chest, his abs, tracing the hard ridges of his pecs and torso in a way that horrified him. Every touch was a betrayal, each inch of him celebrating its own strength and virility.

And then, with a horrible clarity, he realized his surroundings had changed. The dusty walls of the dressing room had faded, replaced by the familiar, well-worn space of a college bedroom. Posters lined the walls, a football on the desk, the scent of cologne mingling with the faint smell of beer, feet and cum. His heart pounded as he saw the reflection of the street in the mirror in front of the bed. He knew this street, but from where? His body kept on flexing his biceps and posing while adjusting his python in his jeans. Suddenly Felix recognizes it, it was Josh’s Fraternity house. “God please, NOOOOOO…” he screamed internally as his body groped once again his thick semi hard dick pressed against his thighs.

The door burst open, and Josh strode in, grinning widely as he clapped him on the back. “Yo, Mike! You ready to tear it up tonight? Halloween bash is going to be insane! Get ready and come downstairs bro’ ”

Inside, Felix’s true self screamed, but his new body only laughed, a confident sound that filled the room. He could feel everything, trapped as a spectator within his own body, unable to stop the deep, casual flex of his muscles, the cocky grin that spread across his face.

Felix swaggered out of the bedroom, every muscle loose and relaxed as he automatically headed downstairs. He barely noticed the lingering shift in his walk, the easy confidence that had replaced his usual awkward, careful steps. He knew, in some distant part of himself, that this wasn’t him. But the name "Mike" echoed back each time he tried to remember his real name.

The first person he saw downstairs was Josh, grinning as he slammed a hand down on Felix’s shoulder with a rough camaraderie that would have once made Felix cringe. Josh, the biggest, brashest jock on campus, was someone he’d always tried to avoid. Now, though, he found himself smiling back, his thoughts warming with a strange fondness he couldn’t quite understand. Josh chuckled, punching him lightly in the arm. “Ready to get this party started, bro?”

The response came instinctively. "Always, man!" His voice sounded rich and easy, filled with that same underlying confidence, and Felix felt a surge of warmth in his chest. It felt… right, somehow, and as they worked together with the others, hanging lights and arranging tables, he was overwhelmed by the feeling of fitting in, of belonging here in a way he never had before.

Then the doorbell rang, and Mike headed to answer it, his steps naturally assured, shoulders relaxed. When he opened the door, he froze for a second. Standing there was Nathan, his best friend, the same familiar face and shy smile he’d grown up with. His friend’s arms were full of papers, Josh’s homework, he realized with a strange clarity.

“Hey, uh, I’ve got the assignments Josh asked for,” Nathan said, looking slightly uncomfortable as he handed the papers over. Mike reached out to take them, a small pang of something strange flickering in his mind as he looked at his friend’s familiar, nervous expression. Felix woke up from his mental fog and remembered who he truly was. He was not Mike; he was Felix and Nathan was his best friend. How long did he forget, how is that possible to forget who you are? Inside his head, Felix was panicking and trying to scream and beg for help to Nathan, but on the outside, Mike just grabbed the paper and put on a cocky grin as he realizes how thick Nathan’s ass was.

“Thanks, man,” Mike replied automatically, the words feeling strange in his deeper, confident voice. Josh took the papers with barely a nod, heading back toward the party, and Mike found himself lingering, watching Nathan’s body with a hungry look. Out of nowhere, Mike started to talk kindly to Nathan and to Felix’s surprise, Nathan answered back, worst he recognized in his best friend a feeling of joy as they kept talking together about every and anything.

They chatted for a few minutes, the small talk flowing in a way that felt oddly natural. Felix was screaming for this to stop. Maybe if he screamed loud enough, he will be able to grab dominance over this new Mike’s mind and be able to ask for help. But it didn’t work. Worst, he screamed in panic as he heard himself asking Nathan to come outside to grab a drink. They both went to his bedroom upstairs and just before closing the door, Mike threw a knowing look and a cocky grin to Josh, both of them smiling as they knew Mike was getting lucky.  

Once they were there, Mike listened to his friend talk, nodding as they laughed over stories that seemed almost familiar, yet distant. He felt himself leaning in without even realizing it, his heart pounding a bit harder, his thoughts becoming hazy. There was a moment, a single spark that made everything feel suddenly real, and then just as Nathan was saying that he should go back home to get ready for his Halloween Dungeon and Dragons party, Felix felt his body plunging on Nathan’s lips. He felt the surprise of Nathan fading into acceptance as he gave back his kiss. After some minutes of kissing and touching each other, Mike jumped back up and threw his clothes away, standing erect with his 11 inches dick in front of Nathan. He then started to walk slowly back to Nathan while grinning and talking again. “So tell me Bae’, Trick or treat?” Felix was disgusted by what was happening, how could this happen. He wasn’t even gay, and Nathan was his best friend. No that couldn’t be, it must be a nightmare. But out of nowhere, Felix felt wet lips around his thick cock. The sensation sent shivers down his spine and Mike grabbed Nathan’s head under his calloused palms as he forced it all the way down to his pubes. Felix was torn apart between the pleasure was feeling and the pain of knowing his best friend was giving him a blowjob. Then he felt a rush coming down on him. He felt as his toes started to grip the carpeted floor, his muscles started to tense and his breath became chaotic. “No please, I can’t…” Felix tried to say in a last moment of consciousness as Mike started to spasm and cum straight inside Nathan’s throat, making sure he swallowed every drop of his precious cum. His mind went blank, a flood of warmth washing over him, leaving nothing behind. For a split second, he reached for something he couldn’t name, something lost in a flood of heat and release. Then everything was clear. He was Mike. When he opened his eyes after a couple of pleasurable seconds, Felix was gone. Only Mike stood there. With a satisfied sigh, Mike got his dick out, feeling the lingering warmth radiate through his body, calming his heartbeat. He pulled back on his gym shorts, adjusting his jockstrap, and shot a quick glance in the mirror. As Mike opened the door, he took a look down at Nathan still baked in the pleasure they both just had. “So, do you want to go for a drink tomorrow?” Nathan asked with kindness in his eyes. Mike turned back and laughed before answering “Yo bro’ get the fuck out before I call the broskis to finish you up. You really thought this could be a we? You are a whole for me to fuck and nothing else. Now get the fuck out looser!”

Mike turned back to the mirror and adjusted his cap backward. Perfect, as always. Heading downstairs without another thought, he was ready to enjoy the party, the memory of whatever he’d been worrying about entirely gone.

______________________________________________________________

Hey everybody! Here is the new chapter inspired by this prompt from @yuighjvbn123 "Well, I hope you continue the melorious shop, especially making the sequel for the First Customer story. I really want to see the other perspective, now this time for a shy clumsy nerd who got transformed into a muscular handsome sexy jock. Bit then his demeanor also changed, into more cocky self-obsessed narcissist diva and the usual horny lol. I know it's a basic standard tf plot, but I know you'll find a way to spice things up and make it even hotter"

Hope you guys enjoyed it and see you soon for another adventure ;)

[k0ff1n]

Skully headcanons (both general and relationship stuff)

The parts with the reader are gender neutral, also there is a point that could be considered nsfw I think but it's really just general stuff so nothing much really.

-English isn't my first language so sorry if there are errors and other stuff that simply ain't right and I hope you enjoy :)

+So first of all we know that he isn't from the world that hosts Halloween town, meaning he doesn't dress like that... probably. Personality wise I'd say that he only has energy when he is 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 excited about something, usually a topic that he really likes, but other than that he'd probably be kind of laid back. Like the Kaworu Nagisa type of laid back, he talks and stuff, nods and smiles but doesn't really express emotions in a really... 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘺 (this phrase makes sense in my head please bare with me).

+Now I fully believe that he probably dresses in two ways, no in between. We can have the fancy version of him, probably on those days where he feels motivated enough to wear something nice, and those are the only times where he wears some type of goth outfit, then we have the 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 version of him, the one where he's probably wearing a random cardigan with the most hideous Halloween design anyone's ever seen in their entire live. You know those 90s cardigans, the hand knitted ones with the different patterns randomly sprinkled on the base, yeah, those beauties.

+Now let's be sincere, he's probably autistic. He seems to not really understand "standard" social cues, like when he kisses everyone's hand and they are basically disgusted, also when in Halloween town he hugs grim and Epel(?) just because of how excited he is and they are 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 dying inside but he doesn't even seem to notice lol. Now the most noticeable part is also the one where he only talks about Jack and the related festivity, it literally feels like a special interest, the kind that sticks with you for all your life and you can't really get out of your sistem. Also we know that no one really likes him or talks to him in his real world, which is unfortunately the reality of many neurodivergent people, often considered weird or annoying by others. I mean all the neurodivergent people I've met always had similar experiences, me included so yeah, I mean he also basically states that so.

+With this said I imagine him to be the type of person that tries to keep his interests to himself but fails horribly every time someone gets close enough and he thinks he can finally open himself up. Now we all know how that would end (not in a nice way) , meaning that he probably hides himself in the realities from different books and movies he likes. I firmly believe that the reason he was so happy to finally be in Halloween town was because he imagined so many times to live there without the trouble of other negative people that he felt as if he actually belonged somewhere for once.

+Now since this is getting depressing I'd say that if he had a partner he would probably need someone that either shares the same type of interests as him or simply has enough time to listen to him rant about his hyperfixations. I'd say that the first one would probably still be better because he'd feel as if someone finally understands him and gets why he likes certain things so much.

+Probably collects weird and creepy things, could be old stuff he found in a thrift shop or taxidermies he made himself or bought from some shop on Etsy lol. I see him as the type of guy to yes, love Halloween, but only a certain types of decorations, I mean the old/vintage type would be perfect but if you ever try to get him close to a basic plastic pumpkin (like the basket kind for trick or treat) he would probably start talking in an annoyed and frustrated way about how society ruined the original version of the holiday and stuff like that.

+Type of guy to listen to those long ass YouTube videos with the low quality image as thumbnail that last for more than two hours but include old songs that no one ever listened to, probably including the ones that 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦𝘥 those songs.

+If he actually had a partner he would probably be clingy af, not in an annoying way but like a cat that's always around you way. I don't think that in public he would display that much affection, probably afraid of other people seeing him and judging once again, but when in private he would probably be constantly near you or touching you somehow, be it hugging you when watching a scary movie on the couch or if he's helping cooking something and suddenly you feel him speak in you ear, scaring the shit out of you because he somehow doesn't make any noise when walking.

+Has the worst eye bags you've ever seen in your life, the type that even if you put a red base and then the green and concealer or whatever they 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 fade away. They would probably only make him look good considering that be surely (to me at least so sshhh) wears at least a little eyeliner or eyeshadow. I dont think he was dry lips, even if the og image gives that impression I have a feeling that it's like those cracked type of lipsticks that you put on in layers and stuff.

+One again, if you share interests he would probably sing various tunes with you, be it the songs form the nightmare before Christmas or things like confrontation form the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde musical. I can see him dramatically move around his room while singing a certain part and then looking at you like you hung the starts in the sky when you start singing the next part, even if you suck it doesn't matter really.

+I don't think that he's asexual but at the same time I don't think he'd be really interest in sex stuff anyway, like maybe sometime but more like vanilla things, he doesn't even look like he has the energy to keep up any fancy type of performance let's be fr. Would kiss you and whatever, sometimes make out if you have the time and actually feel like doing something like that, but generally I don't think that he would care much about there things.

+Probably has a pet, not sure which one but the possibilities are: a cat, more cats, rats (named Jack and Sally obvs) or some type of ferret. Not really a dog type of person even if he likes Zero. He probably doesn't have the energy to keep up with an animal like that even if he wants to.

[elizais]

dazai who doesn't explicitly tell the agency about his lover

how dazai acts when he has a crush/partner outside of the agency reader doesn't work at the agency nor is given a part if that makes sense?? this is dazai not explicitly telling anyone about her but when the agency picks up on it fluff fluff fluff, dazai in love

dazai who walks into the agency day after day, sometimes much later than others but still there nonetheless. walking in and smiling to himself more, his silly little crush on his mind. his silly little crush who he would not let be a quick hookup. he genuinely couldn't shake her out of his mind.

dazai who leaves work giddy one day, excited to go on another date. after completing all his work on his own so he could talk about the case to you. he actually read all the paperwork so he could tell you everything in it! kunikida is a fool to think he actually just started being responsible.

dazai who is seen checking his phone whenever he gets a notification and smiling as he types out something. smiling to himself when he sees your simple or complex messages. despite knowing how much you value someone who cares about work, he is willing to message you all day instead.

dazai who doesn't tell the agency immediately because he doesn't want them to think you are just a fling. he definitely had a bad reputation but he was willing to change everything for you.

dazai who doesn't notice that ranpo notices all of his new mannerisms. fridays must be a date night as he chooses to dress a bit nicer, adjusts his bolo tie before leaving and doesn't just throw his coat around like he usually does. choosing that carefully hanging his coat up would be better to prevent wrinkles.

dazai who only starts telling everyone about his special lady when he is on his phone (messaging you) and is teased by ranpo across the room.

"sooo what is her name, dazai?" the master detective asked as he sat on his desk, kicking his feet. upon hearing his name, osamu was instantly snapped out of his trance. "have i not told any of you?" he smiled. the rest of the agency looked up from their work, confused.

"i thought you gave up on the waitress ages ago?" yosano asked. "i did, months ago!" dazai responded as he walked towards the coat rack that he hung his coat up on. pulling out his wallet, he took out the polaroid of the both of you.

"that's [name]!" he shown the room, kunikida didn't seem to believe him until he took the photo out of dazai's hands. "do you not believe me?" dazai asked, fake offense in his voice.

the rest of the agency began to gather around the photo, in awe of the adorable picture. they had to admit, the moment in time of the two of your heads squished together with grins plastered on both faces.

"my belladonna.." he whispered to himself. "now that i think of it, there have been less suicide attempts.." atsushi pondered. "why would i do such a thing when i have her? at first when she declined a double suicide i was disappointed as she is the most beautiful woman ever but her personality is even prettier.."

this whole new attitude was incredibly different from everything they knew about dazai but if anyone deserved happiness, he did. and if he talks about you like this, then they had to be happy for the both of you.

dazai who after that day, brings a framed photo of the both of you and places it next to his laptop. a messy collage of small photos smashed into a frame. another polaroid with you dressed up with him on halloween. (the statue of liberty and a tourist). another photo of you dressed up at a fancy restaurant. there is even one where you both have messy hair and you have pressed countless kisses to his face with red lipstick on.

dazai who will never let you be in harm's way. he made a promise to protect people and if he could let you meet the man who made him a better person, he would in a heartbeat.

dazai who goes to yosano when you get sick for advice because he will NOT take any risks even if it is just a cold.

dazai who does not wipe off lipstick stains before work, and takes pride in having faint marks on his face from you.

dazai who can't wait to let the people who take care of him meet you, the reason he carries on.

dazai who is so happy when you get along with the rest of the agency. although when you and the agency girls are hanging out he becomes the third wheel.

dazai who talks about you all the time to kunikida, claiming he was an "expert boyfriend" and is more than happy to give kunikida relationship advice.

a/n! so this won the poll!! as always, weekends are writing time for me so please excuse my lack of presence on here from time to time!

[princessmisery666]

Just Don't Say You Love Me

Summary: Dean believes you have a good thing going. When you tell him your moving on, he realizes he needs to reassess the relationship and his life before it’s too late.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, miscommunication, unrequited love, friends with benefits, implied smut, Dean doesn’t get a happy ending. 

W/C: 4,776.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Jody Mills, Sam Winchester. 

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: Just Please Don’t Say You Love Me by Gabrielle Alpin.

A/N: I tried to fix the angst, but it’s not happening, so the unhappy ending will remain (for now). Special shoutout to @kazsrm67 and @pink-sparkly-witch for helping and offering words/comments of encouragement.

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes remain my own. 

Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

You knock on Jody’s door, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, some residual adrenaline still playing havoc with your nerves. It’s been a long and insightful day. 

Dean opens the door with a smile, but it quickly morphs into an appreciative grin as his eyes travel the length of your body. “Wow,” he says, “who knew all that was hiding under that uniform.”

You laugh, stepping through the door, not in the least bit phased by his comment. It's not the first time you’ve been told that. “Yeah, that uniform is like an invisibility cloak. I put it on, and no man sees me. Guess you're no exception,” you explain, turning to look at him again. 

“Well, I see you now,” he says, quickly lifting his focus from your ass to your face. “Um, they’re through there,” he gestures for you to go ahead of him. 

“There she is,” Jody says, embracing you with one arm while she places the huge bowl of salad on the table. “How’re you doing?”

“Guess I’m still a little shell-shocked, but I’m okay.” 

“Well, we’re all here to help you…adjust,” Sam offers with a kind smile.

Discovering monsters are, in fact, very real and not just a Halloween marketing ploy is definitely going to be an adjustment. But what choice do you have? These people have given you an in. They’ve let you into their secret club, and honestly, you feel privileged that they trust you and think you are capable enough to help.

If you weren’t capable, neither Jody nor Dean would be here right now, a fact Sam keeps thanking you for over dinner.

“Thank you for being so cool about this,” he says again, lifting his beer bottle to clink it against yours. 

“I’ll freak out later,” you joke, though you probably will. 

“Seriously, you rushed in there, no hesitation, and you held your own,” Jody adds to Sam’s praise. “You certainly proved I picked the right woman for my team.”

“And I can’t thank you enough for that,” you say, genuinely grateful for the opportunity to work with her.

You’ve had some awful bosses and equally shitty jobs over the years, so it's nice to have found Sheriff Mills. Okay, so you’ll be fighting real-life monsters occasionally, but what’s a little compromise? 

They answer all your questions, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little overwhelming. Dean keeps flashing a tight smile in your direction, and you’re not sure if it's meant to be reassuring or if he’s biting his tongue and trying not to be rude. Regardless of his intention, Jody and the boys’ promises to help you come to grips with it all make it seem manageable.

“Am I going to get to hear the story of how you met those two?” you ask Jody in the kitchen later. 

“Definitely, but not tonight,” she explains, handing you a clean, soapy plate to rinse and dry.

Dean and Sam laugh in the other room, and Jody smiles wistfully. It’s so sweet and motherly it chokes you up a little.  

“The years have not been kind to those boys,” she says, focusing back on the dishes. “They keep their circle small, and I’m grateful that they let me be a part of it, and now you get to join it, too.”

“It’s a damn good-looking circle,” you confess.

Jody chuckles, “Ah, so you noticed Dean as much as he noticed you.” 

“Don’t go all matchmaker on me again,” you warn, “do I need to remind you of the disaster that was Paul?” 

“No, you do not. I’m just making an observation. The circle is indeed good-looking, and Dean has been doing a lot of observing of his own.” 

“Yeah, not sure that’s for the reasons you’re implying,” you say, “Dean doesn’t seem like he wants me to be helping out.”

Dean’s voice startles you, “You saved our asses.” You jump, twisting to look at him, “that’s enough.”

“But if I can do more…”

“The life of a hunter isn’t a life I'd recommend,” he explains, reaching for a beer from the fridge, “ it’s messy and painful and usually ends badly.”

“That’s life in general,” you counter, “and if something is happening and I don’t do anything to help, I’m part of the problem.”

“That’s fine,” he says, throwing his bottle top into the trash. “You’re a bigger part of the problem if you get into a situation you can’t get out of.”

“Dean,” Jody scolds, “take it easy. You said it yourself, she saved our asses today. She’s proven she’s capable.”

“All I’m saying is I’ll help where and if I can,” you explain. “I’m not going to go all Buffy the Vampire Slayer and start patrolling graveyards.”

It’s faint, but a slight quirk tugs his lips, breaking the building tension. 

“Besides, I’m sure our uniform makes us invisible to monsters as well as men.” 

He laughs properly at that, “Not invisible to me anymore,” his tongue sits behind his teeth, and you're suddenly jealous when he wraps his lips around the bottle.

“Good to know,” you say.

You hold each other’s gaze, perhaps a challenge to see who will shy away first. 

“Cool it, you two,” Jody warns, flicking water off the tips of her fingers at you both. 

“Sorry, boss,” you laugh. “And on that note, I’m gonna get going.”

“Need a ride?” Dean asks, a smug smirk in play. 

“I would love one,” you wink, but follow up with, “but it’s a nice night. Think I’m gonna walk, work off some of that wine.” 

“Why don’t you walk her home?” Jody suggests. 

Dean nods, “lead the way.”

When you’d balked, telling Dean you didn’t need an escort, he’d countered, saying he needed the fresh air, but you think it’s more to check up on you and maybe flirt a little more without an audience if your instincts are correct. It’s been nothing but small talk since leaving Jody’s until you're standing on your porch facing one another.

“So how are you really taking all this?” he asks. 

“I had a little freak out before I got to Jody’s,” you answer honestly, “but truthfully, it makes me feel a little better about the world.” 

He huffs a laugh, and his confused frown is adorable. “Okay, that’s a first.” 

“There’s so much evil in the world. It’s scary enough without knowing what I know now,” you explain, adding, “Maybe some of the unexplainable evil that’s all over the news is explainable. Maybe it’s not humans being horrible. Maybe it’s actually something evil.”

“Huh, I never thought of it like that.”

“I’m not saying I’ll remember that the next time a vamp is kicking my ass,” you laugh. 

“Hey,” he scolds, “you agreed, no hunting.” 

You hold your hands up, surrendering. “I won’t go looking for it, but if it comes to Sioux Falls, I’m all over it,” you promise, but your body has other ideas as an overall ache spreads through you as the day's events catch up with you. “Well, maybe in a few days when I’ve recovered from the last one.” Subconsciously, your tongue rolls over the cut on your bottom lip.  

“That hurt?” he asks. 

“I’ve had worse.” You shrug. The way he’s looking at you dulls the sting of the cut, and the tired ache in your bones shifts and reshapes into a simmering itch that needs scratching.

“You gonna be okay?” he asks, pointing over your shoulder toward your door. The implication of you being alone goes unsaid.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, trying not to roll your eyes. “But maybe you want to come in? Have a coffee or something, distract me a little longer so I don’t freak out too much?”

He smiles, wetting his lips. He knows that’s not what you're asking, and you wonder how often the offer of ‘coffee or something’ has been used successfully on him. He looks down at his shuffling feet, heaving a sigh. “I should get back.” 

The hesitation is clear, yet he doesn’t move. A surge of adrenaline spreads through you, and your heart rate increases. When he looks up, catching your eyes, the intensity of the long, loaded pause is enough to make you wonder, if monsters exist, then maybe that electricity everyone talks about is real, too, because it feels like if you touch your hand to Dean’s face, sparks will fly.

“Thanks again for the save today,” he whispers.

“Anytime,” you smile. 

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly you're as one, mouths connected, exploring the other’s, hands groping and gripping, and your lip stings for a split second, but then Dean has you pinned against your door, and you forget about it.

He pulls away and kisses your neck, “Maybe,” he says, scraping his teeth against your jaw, “we should take this inside.”

Your arrangement with Dean works. No pressure, no expectations. Summer comes, and winter fades, but your relationship remains mutually beneficial. 

He rolls through Sioux Falls, that charming smile - that you’re not sure he knows quite how charming it is - “passing through,” but he stays a few days. He always claims it’s to catch up with Jody and the girls, but he spends most of his time at your place, and it’s too coincidental that you’re never on shift or scheduled for a few days when Baby pulls up outside.

Jody insists she has nothing to do with it. Yes, she's the sheriff, yes, she’s your boss, and makes the rotas, but “The only thing I swing is that I get to work with you,” she’d promised, winking. And you love her for that. Some of the men are still stuck in the past, and though they don’t say it, you can tell they don’t think women can do the job.

If only they knew. You’ve helped on a few hunts now. There’s no doubt in your mind that your relationship with Dean wouldn’t be what it is if you didn’t know about the real evils of the world. But each hunt ended the same: a dead monster and your body beneath Dean’s. 

You're in your room lacing up your little white summer pumps when the Impala’s engine announces his arrival.

You jump to your feet, quickly check yourself in your mirror, smoothing down the already smooth summer dress, and call out, “It’s open,” when his knock echoes around the house.

“Wow, look at you,” he says, freezing partway over the threshold to admire you as you bounce down the stairs.

You deliver your usual greeting, a swift kiss to his lips, and the unmistakable aroma of leather and cheap motel soap assaults your senses - damn, you’ve missed him - but you won’t say it. Instead, you show it, making the kiss deeper.

He shuffles inside, uses your hips to steady himself as he kicks the door closed, and then wraps his arms around your waist to hold you tightly against him. 

Your phone rings, and you fumble to find it on the table by the door, but as soon as you do, Dean releases you, kissing your neck and collarbone. 

“Hey, hi,” you answer. 

“Hey babe,” your best friend sings, and you know it's because she needs something. “Can you grab some ice on your way over?” 

“Yeah, sure, okay.” 

“You okay?” 

No. Yes.

Dean is kneading your breasts, nibbling on the skin that spills out the top of your sundress. “Yeah, just rushing, I’m running late.” 

“So late,” he mumbles into your skin.

“Well, hurry more,” she says before hanging up.

“Oh fuck, Dean, you gotta stop,” you whine. 

He groans, dulling the sting of his bite with a sweet kiss, and pulls back to look at you. “This a bad time, isn’t it?”

You nod, feeling as disappointed as he looks. “It’s my friend's birthday. She’s having a barbeque.” 

He sighs, leaning his head on your shoulder and mumbling into your neck. “Damn it.” 

“I have to at least show my face,” you say, using your hands on his cheeks to pull his head up to look into his eyes. “But you can stay here, take a shower, watch a movie or something, and maybe in a couple of hours, I get a headache and need to come home.” 

Wetting his lips, he smirks before delivering a brief kiss. “Or,” he draws out the syllable, mild hesitation clear in his eyes, “Maybe I can come with you?”

Since Chuck is no longer an issue, Dean has been making an effort to live in the moment, opening himself up, if only a little. So you try to quell the shock of his suggestion. It quickly evolves to a pleased grin when your mind flashes to your friends' faces when you walk in with the infamous Dean. They will lose their shit. You like spending time with Dean but don’t want to cross any lines or make assumptions. “I’d like that,” you smile, “but you really don’t have to.”

“I’m sure I can survive a couple hours with your friends, and you know I can always eat.”

“Okay,” you nod, smile widening. “If you’re sure.” 

He kisses you again, a simple but effective peck on your lips. “But maybe we both get a headache in a couple of hours.” 

“Deal,” you agree, sealing it with another casual kiss. “Maybe lose a few layers. It’s summer.”

He laughs, shrugging off his jacket. “I’m sure I have a clean Fed shirt in the trunk.”

“Perfect,” you say, grabbing your bag and keys. “Want me to drive?” 

He rolls his eyes, jesting, “Did that kiss fry your brain?” as he follows you out the front door.

He opens the passenger door for you, and before you slip inside, you tell him, “Oh, and whatever my friends say I’ve said about you, it’s all lies.”

He grins smugly, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

The shower has done wonders for your developing hangover. Your friend's barbecue lasted longer than you had anticipated, but the day couldn’t have gone better. 

Dean fit in well with everyone and crushed it at beer pong. It was a success all around, and when you’d quietly asked if he wanted to leave, he’d said no, that he was having too much fun.

The fun continued when you got home, and Dean is undoubtedly still feeling the effects as well. It’s almost midday, and he’s still sound asleep in your bed when you enter your bedroom in clean sweats and your bra while you towel dry your hair. 

Dean is lying on his stomach, with his face smushed adorably against the pillow he’s hugging, taking advantage of all the space now that you’ve vacated.

You crawl across the bed, leaning over him, and he still doesn’t stir. You put your lips close to his ear and half whisper, “Morning.”

His brow instantly creases, and he squeezes his eyes tighter, groaning, “No, no, you have to go away.” 

“You gotta get up. It’s almost midday.”

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles, eyes still squeezed shut. “You have to take your horrible talking, talky mouth away from me.” 

“Okay, you asked for it.” You laugh, sitting back and wringing your hair out so the excess water drips on his naked back.

“Ah,” he groans, arching up off the mattress.

You jump off the bed, laughing as you walk to the mirror to start doing your hair. Turning over, he rubs a hand over his face and then both through his hair, causing it to stick up adorably. He catches you staring in the mirror, and you quickly avert your eyes. 

“Damn, your friends can drink,” he says, sitting up against the headboard. 

You laugh, that’s an understatement. “They definitely know how to have fun.” 

“They seem like a good bunch.” 

“They liked you too,” you smile at his reflection, and he grins back. “Laura told me to invite you to her and Chris’ wedding.”

His expression shifts, staring off into the distance for a singular moment as if he’s imagining how that would play out. But as quickly as it appears, it drops when he scrubs a hand down his face to put the mask back on. “That’s cool, but I can’t make that kind of commitment.” He swings his legs off the bed, putting his back to you. “I don’t know where I’ll be.”

You hadn’t expected a solid answer, but the double meaning behind his words settles thick disappointment in your stomach. You’ve never asked for any commitment nor discussed the arrangement between you, but hearing him say it aloud singes the hope you always try to contain.

Dean quickly gets to his feet, swaying at the abruptness. “I’m gonna grab a shower.” He mumbles, avoiding eye contact as he heads to the bathroom.

It’s been less than ten minutes, and you’re sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through your phone, when he finds the courage to face you again. He’s talking to Sam on his phone, obnoxiously loud, as he descends the stairs, trying to make a point of his hasty need to depart.

He appears in the kitchen doorway, jacket in hand, hair dripping onto the shoulders of his henley. You guess you should be grateful he wasn’t cowardly enough to have just shouted goodbye from the door. 

“Listen, I’m sorry about before.” He moves closer to the table, eyeing you as he raps his knuckles on the polished wood. “It’s just that, even with Chuck out of the picture, I’m not sure how things are going to play out. I can’t make any, uh, long-term commitments. Sam and-“

“I get it, Dean.” The last thing you want is any tension between you, so you nip the growing uncomfortableness. “We don’t need to have any awkward conversations.”

He bobs his head, hope swimming in his eyes. “So, we’re good?”

You take your mug to the sink, and once your back is to him, you say, “Yeah, we’re good.”

“You sure?” You didn’t hear him move, but the air shifts behind you, bringing his warmth along with it.

Plastering on a smile, you turn to face him and nod. “Take care of yourself.”

The corner of his mouth curls upward, and he kisses your forehead before heading to the door, “Talk to you soon,” he calls before the door clicks shut.

Fools rush in. Dean is no fool. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel like being one sometimes. Usually, it’s when he’s on the road, heading home from a hunt or supply run, he daydreams about how things could be with you. 

The daydream isn’t much different from how things already are. The sex would just be coupled with more official dates – dinner, movies, watching him, which for some reason turns you on, ‘do his thing’ as you call it when he’s hustling suckers at pool. Hell, even grocery shopping. He’d sneak unhealthy snacks into the cart because you promised Sam you’d take care of him, and you would. Dean knows you’d be good to him, that you are good for him. But he’s lived that life. He doesn’t need a wake-up call to know how it ends.

It’s a nice daydream. It gives him a much-needed boost of serotonin when he’s in short supply. But like the gas that fuels Baby, the thought has vaporized by the time he shuts off the engine.

Chuck isn’t calling the shots anymore, but that doesn’t mean the big bads aren’t still gunning for the Winchester's demise. Sam has it all figured out with Eileen, and Dean wishes he could be as sure about what he wants life to look like now. But he can’t be sure of anything, at least not yet. He’s still working on adjusting to a life not consumed by hunting. Trying to come to terms with the fact that there isn’t something lurking around every corner, that the choices he makes – good and bad – are truly his and not fueled by some life-ending curveball Chuck tosses at them. 

The doubts bore deeper, and as always, when he’s drowning in his own head, he thinks of you.

He remembers how you busted down the door with borrowed equipment from Sioux Falls. You’d looked frantic but still in control. Your mere presence had calmed him, and not because you were there to rescue him. You didn’t waste a breath with a witty comment like he would have. You let off two shots, dropped the ghoul about to take a chunk out of him, and then untied him.

You’d been cool and calm, checked him for injuries, but didn’t believe he was truly okay till he kissed you breathless. That adrenaline-filled, kiss-swollen lips, slightly frantic edge to your eyes, is the picture he conjures whenever he thinks of you. 

It’s been a while since he’s seen you. You’ve exchanged a few calls, but now that his mind is stuck on that picture of you, he has to see you.

He shoots Sam a text, telling him he’ll be in Sioux Falls if Sam needs anything, and then pulls an illegal u-turn to put himself in your direction. 

Dean’s not phased that you aren’t home when he shows up. It’s not like he called ahead. He never does. But now that he’s here, he doesn’t want to waste time tracking you down, so he calls. 

“Hey,” you greet brightly.

The smile in your voice brings out his. “Hey, yourself. I’m at your door.” 

“Shit, sorry, I’m not there.”

He chuckles, “Are you around, or does my timing suck again?” 

“No, no, it’s kinda perfect, actually,” you say. “I was gonna call you later anyway. But I need a half hour or so.”

“I can wait.” 

“Greasy Sal’s?” you offer. 

He smiles, already salivating at the thought of a Greasy Sal’s cheeseburger. “Throw in some curly fries,” he requests.  

“Okay, got it,” You laugh.

Dean sits on the Impala’s hood while he waits, head tilted toward the sun, eyes closed while he catches the day’s last rays. The sound of your car’s engine isn’t as distinct as Baby’s, but he knows it well enough that as soon as he hears it, he opens his eyes and watches you turn onto the street. It’s not until that moment that he realizes how eager he is to see you. Maybe Greasy Sal’s can wait; he has another hunger he needs to sate.

He waits till you shut off the engine to open your door, “such a gentleman,” you quip, taking his offered hand to step onto the sidewalk. “Or are you clambering for food?” 

“Not what I’m hungry for,” he says, guiding you against your car. He presses himself against you, feeling the coolness of the air conditioning on your clothes. He circles the tip of your nose with his own, whispering, “Hey,” against your lips before claiming them as his own. 

Frustratingly, you push a hand into his chest after the first brush of his tongue, and he pulls back to look at you. You're looking up at him from under hooded eyes, and he feels like his heart skips a beat, or maybe he’s just a little out of breath. But he knows that with you gazing up at him like he’s a beautiful sunset, he really has missed you. 

“Maybe we should take this inside.”

“Absolutely,” he says, slightly impatient that he can’t get you naked then and there.

He walks to the trunk to get your shopping bags and follows you up the path. He has a bag packed with his essentials but never brings it inside until the next morning. Something about bringing it in before you’ve had sex seems presumptuous, which is crazy because, as per the arrangement, that’s exactly what he’s here for.

“It’s good to see you,” you say, entering your kitchen with him close on your tail.

“Yeah, you too.” He genuinely means it. It’s like things fall into place when he’s around you. 

“How’s Sam?”

“He’s good,” Dean explains, placing the grocery bags on the countertop. “He’s taken Eileen away for a couple days.” 

“Good for them.” 

You unpack the groceries and take a beer from the fridge; as always, it's his favorite brand. Though he never warns you of his pending arrival there is always a supply cooling in the refrigerator and his favorite snacks in the cupboards. 

He takes the open bottle from you, leaning in to deliver another kiss, but you turn to grab more groceries, and he realizes it's a not-so-stealthy way to give him your cheek.

It seems to be the day of revelations because he’s super aware of how easily you flow around each other in the small kitchen. Dean plates up the burgers, grabbing another beer for you from the fridge, and he’s surprised to see that it’s the only one left. That, coupled with the kiss avoidance, gives him pause. Something’s wrong. 

You sit at the table and take a large gulp of the beer. “You okay?” he asks once you’ve swallowed the beer and the nervousness you're exuding. “You seem a little…off.” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, then inhale deeply before adding, “Actually, no, I’m not. We need to talk. And I hate how cliche that sounds, but I don’t know how else to bring it up, and I don’t want to get all emotional on you, but I need to tell you something.”

He feels the panic fizz in his gut. You can’t be pregnant. He's seen you take birth control, and he uses protection every time. So it can only be one thing …you're about to ruin everything.

You're going to utter those three words, and it's going to be the death blow to all the good stuff between you. 

He takes a swig of his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Please don’t,” he begs, looking you dead square in the eyes. “What we’ve got going on is good, we’re good…” 

“Dean, I …” you try, but he holds a hand up to cut you off.

“Don’t say it.” he pushes his chair back and rubs his hands on his thighs, palms suddenly sweaty. “I like what we have. It works, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look forward to it or that I don’t miss you. But I just got back a little peace of mind and…” he pauses, clearly searching for the right word, “caring about someone…” he shakes his head, reaching to wrap his hand around his beer bottle. “...Loving me, even with Chuck gone, it doesn’t make it any less of a death sentence. So please don’t say it.”

You reach across the table for his hand, clenched around his beer, but he’s quick to pull back. “Dean,” you choke out, the remorse you feel slipping from your eyes in a single tear. “I’ve met someone.” 

He stares at you, mouth agape, not sure that he heard you correctly. 

“It’s still new,” you continue, rushing to explain as your tears spill. “But it’s going somewhere. Somewhere great, and I don’t want to mess it up.”

Of course, you haven’t been sitting at home waiting for his sporadic visits. You’ve been out living your life as you should be. The possibility of meeting someone else, someone you could say those three words to, and it be a life sentence and not a death sentence, had occurred to him more than once. It poked at him like a swarming gnat, knowing you deserved to find someone better than him, but selfishly, he swatted at it until it went away. 

He’s holding his breath and will get light-headed soon if he doesn’t find the ability to breathe again. 

“Dean,” you coax, “say something.”

He feels as if you’d blindsided him, come out of the left field, and taken his legs out from under him. Now he’s on his back, the wind knocked out of him, and waiting for the feeling in his limbs to return. 

Abruptly he stands. He sees the panic in your eyes and knows what’s coming. As you plead, “Don’t leave,” he says, “I gotta go.”

He strides quickly toward the door. You call his name as he goes, but he doesn’t stop. 

He rushes out your front door, leaves it open, and as he reaches Baby, he has a singular moment of wondering what will hurt the least - holding on or letting go.

“Dean, please,” you call from the door. 

He slides behind the wheel, deciding to let go.

Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.

Tags info

/ @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @deandreamernp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @lyarr24 / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimallina87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @pank0w / @kmc1989/ @deans-spinster-witch / @spnbaby-67 / @roseblue373

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

[saccharinesatoru]

You're not scared... are ya? (m)

Pairing: non-sorcerer Gojo Satoru/Geto Suguru x reader (afab)

Genre: Ghostface/Halloween  + Smut

Word count: 7k

Summary: You’ve always loved Halloween. But this year, you and your boyfriend, Suguru, are planning something a little spookier than usual… Who doesn’t love a good scare? You have to get in the Halloween spirit, right? Turns out, the trick is on you and the treats are for your boyfriend and his blonde-haired, blue-eyed friend who seems to like you a little more than a friend should… 

Warnings: uhhh i guess technically non-con…? It depends on how you look at it, i guess (let me know what you think so i can tag it appropriately), fingering (f receiving), oral (m and f receiving), throat f*cking, penetration (vaginal, f receiving), choking, knife play, blood play, biting and hickeys, threesome, kissing (satosugu (if you’re not down with that uh… sorry lmao maybe not the fic for you)), primal play, use of ghostface mask and chasing/hide and seek, degradation and praise, sensory deprivation/play (blindfolds, gags), bondage (f receiving)... i think that’s it lol oh and this is like 70% proof read I'm sorry I just wanted to get it out

A/N: sorry this is late ! i meant to have this out before halloween (at the very least), but the timing just didn’t work out

xx Jay

---

Halloween was easily one of your favorite times of year.

You loved the autumn season in general. From the colors of the leaves to the cool chill in the air, October in general had a special place in your heart. And it certainly didn’t hurt that the brisk weather gave you an excuse to cuddle up with your boyfriend, not that you really needed another reason in the first place. 

There was another aspect of Halloween you loved, of course…

“No way,” Suguru states. “I’m not doing that.”

He didn’t even look up from his phone upon your horror movie reenactment request. He continued to type away on his phone, no doubt texting his white-haired best friend whom he’s questionably close to. In fact, before you two got together, you were fully convinced your now boyfriend was dating his best friend, Satoru. You even remember the laughs they each let out when you finally brought up the matter. 

After many questions asked, Suguru confirmed he was, in fact, single. And the rest was history. 

Funnily enough, Suguru later confessed to you during one drunken night that he hadn’t made a move on you originally since he thought Satoru was interested in you too. When you tried asking him about it the next day, unsure if the memory was fabricated, he said he didn’t know what you were talking about.

But you can’t imagine life any other way. Suguru truly was your other half.

There’s only one glaring difference between the two of you when it comes to the Halloween season…

“I’m not dressing up in some ghost mask thing and chasing you around the apartment in the dark.”

Your boyfriend, ever the dream-crusher, didn’t share your same passion for horror movies. 

“It’s ghostface, Suguru,” you correct. “And, come on, baby. Don’t you wanna make your lovely girlfriend’s dreams come true?” When in doubt, go for the guilt trip. 

He just lets out a sigh and looks up at the ceiling in disbelief. 

“Baby, if you’re having dreams like those, then I’ll be chasing you to a therapist’s office instead,” he laughs. “Besides, what’s the appeal in this so-called “ghostface” stalking in the first place? Is this the result of some sort of repressed trauma I don’t know about?”

“Haha, very funny,” you scowl. “But, no, this isn’t about some secret, horrifically painful backstory. Think of it as… primal play.”

His neck snaps back down and catches your gaze.

 “Primal play?” he asks you incredulously with a gleam in his eyes. “How come you’ve never told me about this little secret of yours, hm? Next thing I know, you’re gonna be telling me about some piss kink of yours.”

You slap his shoulder, and he laughs at your disgusted expression. 

“Hey!” He raises his hands in mock surrender. “You never know! Maybe you shouldn’t knock it ‘till you try it! You’ll just have to explore that side of your sexuality without me… some sort of solo piss-centric masturbation.”

Slapping his shoulder again, you pull away from his side and look him in the eye. “I can’t really explain it all that well, but the idea of being chased and the fear of getting caught…” you trail off and lean to whisper in his ear, “It gets me so wet that I’m dripping.”

You don’t need to look at his face to know his eyes widen and his mouth parts at your comment. You’ve got him right where you want him now. Based on the weighted silence as Suguru processes your words, you know he’s just about folded like a house of cards. Chase you around in a ghostface mask? Hell, he might even shave his head if you asked him too (not that you would ever want such a terrible thing).

“Okay,” Suguru breathes out shakily, picturing you sopping wet at the mere thought of the primal play kink. “So… how would we do this?”

And just like that, the plans for your primal play ghostface dream fell into place. 

Close to 9pm on Halloween, your boyfriend left your shared apartment and agreed to return in roughly fifteen minutes in which time you were to set up for the scene by moving all remotely sharp objects out of the way, changing into the appropriate clothing, turning off the lights, and finding a place to hide. By the time the fifteen minutes were up, you would be receiving a phone call from your boyfriend. 

Once you had rearranged the apartment and changed into much shorter, might tighter clothes, you began turning the lights off around the shared space. However, you were startled when you heard a knock on the door. Confused, you walked over slowly and looked through the peephole. 

You let out a sigh and open the door to find Satoru before you. 

“Hey, Satoru,” you greet quickly. “Now’s not really a good time. Suguru and I-”

Satoru, eyes still glued to his phone, interrupts you, “Oh, yeah, I’m here to see him, actually.” 

You click your tongue at his rudeness. When it comes to moments like these, you remember why you choose to believe that Suguru’s drunken confession of Satoru’s underlying feelings for you had to be false. There are times when Satoru treats you more like a doormat than an actual person- let alone the girlfriend of his best friend. Although it does make you question if Satoru really did have feelings for you boyfriend after all… 

“No, Satoru, you don’t understand,” you begin. “Suguru and I have something… planned. He’ll be back soon, but we’re staying in tonight alone.” You be sure to emphasize the last part of your sentence. 

He finally looks up from his phone, and his jaw drops slightly as his eyes rake over your body. His brilliant blue eyes take in your bra-less chest covered by what has to be the world’s shortest crop top with your nipples poking against the fabric of the shirt. His eyes fall to your tiny skirt that hugs your hips tightly and doesn’t even reach midthigh. For the first time since you met the lanky menace, he’s actually speechless. You wave a hand in front of his face to snap him out of his trance-like state. 

“Satoru?” you question. “Did you hear what I just said?”

He closes his mouth and gulps before making eye contact with you. If you had paid closer attention, you would have noticed the bulge in his jeans grow larger just from the mere look of you.

Shaking his head, he puts his phone away in his back pocket. He clears his throat before asking, “What were you saying?”

You roll your eyes at his behavior. 

He’s a complete jerk when he interacts with you normally but now he’s gawking at your appearance? Makes sense why he can’t get a girlfriend. And it’s not like he’s about to pull Suguru as a boyfriend since he’s long off the market. Part of you wants to rub that in Satoru’s face whenever he acts up like this. 

“Suguru isn't home right now, but he will be soon. Once he gets here, he and I have plans. So, respectfully, you need to leave.” you reiterate with more force this time to fully get the point across. 

A.K.A. Fuck off, Satoru.

He scoffs at your attitude (as if it isn’t 100% warranted) and turns around to leave. “Fine,” he sighs in annoyance as if your simple request was a burden. “Tell him I stopped by, and next time…” His eyes meet yours again and a smirk is painted on his irritatingly handsome face. “Maybe wear more clothes when you answer the door. You never know what kind of perverts might be lurking around.”

You smile awkwardly at the comment and finally close the door, letting out a sigh. You thought he’d never leave. 

You jolt when your phone starts ringing and dash around the apartment to turn off the rest of the lights and scurry to your hiding place. Once you’ve quickly collected yourself, you answer the phone. 

“Hello?” you speak, excitement already on the rise at the thought of what’s in store for tonight. 

A dark, muffled voice through a voice modulator on the other end asks, “What’s your favorite scary movie?”

Smiling at the iconic line, you grip your phone a little tighter and hum, “I don’t know if I can pick just one. I love horror movies.”

You hear a chuckle. “Really? And why’s that, princess?”

Your cheeks heat up at the use of the pet name- not in the original script but still making you weak in the knees. 

“Hm… There’s just something about the feeling of being scared… To be honest, it gets more more worked up than it should.”

Your ears perk up when you hear the apartment door unlock, and you carefully peer around the room from your hiding spot in search of your masked boyfriend. Perhaps it’s because you’re in the dark, but he’s nowhere in sight. 

“Well, you’re in luck tonight, princess.” the silky voice practically purrs. “Because I’m about to give you a scare you’ll never forget.”

The line drops, and you listen closely for any sounds of movement throughout the apartment. You finally hear shuffling down the hall from your hiding spot and prepare yourself for the chase should you be caught.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” he sings, still utilizing the voice modulator to add to the horror element.

Eventually, your boyfriend steps into the room and proceeds to hum a song under his breath as he slowly looks around the room. Seconds feel like hours as you hold your breath, ready to dart away from your hiding spot if need be. You attempt to lean forward carefully- emphasis on “attempt” because a wooden plank beneath you groans at your small movement. 

His neck snaps toward you, and you can tell that even with that mask, he makes direct eye contact with you. You let out a little yelp as you dive out of the way of his attack. He’s on the ground after his attempted grab, and you rush out of the room in search of another hiding place throughout your apartment. 

You finally settle in a new spot and cover your mouth with your hand to silence your harsh breathing. It isn’t long before your boyfriend enters the room again and begins searching. 

“Fuck,” he exhales, “I can practically track you by smell alone, princess. You must be soaked, huh?”

You push your thighs together in a desperate attempt to pleasure yourself from the friction alone. It’s obviously not enough, but it’ll have to do as your boyfriend chases you through the apartment while dressed as a serial killer. 

“What a dirty little slut you are…” your boyfriend calls out, taunting you. “All this hiding and chasing has you worked up pretty good, huh? Why don’t you just come on out and let me take care of that problem for you, yeah?”

As tempting as the offer sounds, you remain silent and watch from your spot behind the furniture.

“No?” he asks in faux confusion. “Then I guess we’ll just have to do this the hard way. I love a good hunt.”

Surprisingly, you’re able to move to another hiding place quietly right as he was about to find you. Your luck ran out when you realized that in your search through the dark, you had ended up in the bedroom which only left two spaces to hide: under the bed or in the closet. 

“Fuck me,” you whisper in anger. “Could this be any more predictable?”

You quickly weigh your options and opt to slide underneath the bed quietly. Not too long after, your boyfriend walks leisurely into the room. This truly seems like a game to him. And here you were thinking he would be more timid since he had never engaged in any sort of similar roleplay before. 

He peeks around the room, giving it a mere once-over before stepping out. Thank god.

He really believed there’s no way you would be dumb enough to hide in such horrible spots. You’re both relieved and also offended in a way. 

There’s no time to contemplate further when hands wrap around your ankles and pull you from under the bed, making you scream. Once you’re fully emerged, he flips you over on your back and pins you on the floor of your bedroom. 

“Hiding under the bed?” he coos. “Princess, for someone who watches a lot of horror movies, I would have hoped you’d be smarter than that.”

“Get off me!” you shout. 

Even though you’re pretending to fight back, you know full well that even if you were trying with all your strength to push him off, he could still easily manipulate your body. 

“Oh, but this is what you wanted, right?” he asks as he reaches beside him and grabs one of his belts off the dresser. “Completely, utterly helpless.”

He makes quick work of your wrists, binding them together expertly with his belt. The belt wasn’t meant to be a part of the scene, but fuck was it hot. 

Once your hands are bound, he removes both of his black gloves and tosses them to the side. He brings his now bare hands to your collar bones that show from above your flimsy crop top. His cold hands brush against your skin, and he lifts up the fabric between his fingers. 

“This,” he begins. “is getting in the way.”

In the blink of an eye, he’s reaching into his pocket and brings out a switchblade. He cuts the clothes off of your body while you lay there in shock. 

“A switchblade?” you ask in confusion. “Suguru, where did you get a switchblade? That wasn’t part of our scene-”

He cuts you off by shoving his fingers in your mouth. 

“The only thing I wanna hear from this whore mouth is moaning, whining, and pleading,” he states firmly. “Or can a doubt slut like you not understand that?”

Your eyes are practically bulging out of your head. Not only did Suguru whip out a legitimate weapon (which neither one of you had planned), but he was talking to you in a way he had never done before. It was crude, cruel, and harsh. It was something you had never heard from him… but it was turning you on so much that you couldn’t even bring yourself to question the change in behavior. He removes his fingers from your mouth, now covered in your drool, and opts for shoving his discarded gloves into your mouth instead, effectively shutting you up.

“No bra, hm?” he questions as he runs the blade down your bare chest. “Good. Those nipples look even better bare anyways.”

Dragging the knife’s edge along your breast, you hiss as he draws faint amounts of blood. He lets out a groan at the sight and pinches one of your nipples with his free hand. You whine around his fingers at the dual sensation, pleasure and pain. Your wrists pull at your confines, and you feel the leather dig into your skin. 

Abandoning your chest, he moves his free hand lower down your body until he reaches the end of your skirt. With a quick flick of his wrist, he’s pulled up the fabric to reveal your bare cunt, glistening with arousal. Even in the darkened room, you know he can see your wetness. 

“And no panties too?” your boyfriend groans at the sight. “Well, it must be my lucky day. This pretty pussy was calling my name from the beginning, huh?”

Had you been more lucid, you may have furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at his statement, considering you had mentioned to him before the scene what you planned on wearing. The thought flew out of your mind when you felt his long fingers collect your slick and move against your folds. You whine at the movement and try to clench your thighs shut at the for more friction.

“Nuh uh,” he practically sings and shoves your legs apart. “You’re gonna take what I give ya, and you’re gonna like it.”

At that, he plunges two fingers into you suddenly, not even giving time to adjust to the intrusion before he’s built a rapid pace. Your squeal is muffled by the black fabric shoved inside your mouth, but your sounds still echo throughout the apartment. You’re certain you’ll get noise complaints tomorrow- not that you cared.

While his middle and pointer fingers continue their brutal speed inside you, he brings his thumb upward to draw small circles on your clit which has you moaning impossibly louder. Your brain feels scrambled already; Suguru’s touch plus the anticipation of what’s to come has you shaking. 

“Who knew such a quiet, well-mannered little girl could be such a fucking slut,” he states with mock surprise. “Guess it just took some good finger–fucking to bring out your true self, huh?”

Even if you weren’t gagged, you wouldn’t be able to respond. The speed at which he fingers you has you delirious, and if you weren’t so laughably fucked out already, you’d be embarassed with how quickly you felt your climax approaching. Suguru feels you tighten around his fingers and laughs cruelly at you. 

“Gonna cum so soon? I thought a common whore like you would have built up a tolerance for someone touching this cunt…Guess not.” he laughs again.

 You can practically envision the sarcastic pout on his face from his tone. 

“But that’s more than fine by me, princess,” he says darkly and ups the pace on your clit. “Because I’m gonna have you cumming so much that you forget about any other man aside from me.”

The possessiveness in his tone sends you spiraling over the edge and you clench firmly around his fingers as your pitiful moans attempt to spill from the make-shift gag. 

Once you come down from your high, you’re met with your boyfriend holding up a blindfold to your face. You widen your eyes a bit at his actions since he hasn’t mentioned anything to you about using blindfolds when you were planning your scene. He’s certainly taking some creative liberties that stray from your original plans as well as the original Scream movie script. 

“What?” he cocks his head to the side, and you imagine his smirk beneath the mask. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the dark.”

You glare at him, still blinking back tears in your eyes from your recent and powerful orgasm. You try to speak, but the words are lost in the gag. He probably rolls his eyes as he sighs and pulls the fabric from your mouth. 

You take a deep breath upon being freed from your muzzle and dare him, “Do your worst.” 

He chuckles at the taunt. “You’re gonna regret that, sweetheart.”

He makes quick work of wrapping the blindfold around your eyes tightly, and you’re consumed by the darkness of the fabric. After he’s made sure you can’t see anything, you hear some ruffling of fabric, and you assume he’s removed parts of the ghostface costume. He’s silent for a movement, and you’re about to call out for him before you feel the familiar sensation of a blade along your thighs. You hear him groaning at the sight of you twitching and whining. Hissing at the sharpness of the blade, you feel some blood begin to trickle down your thighs. Leaning in, your boyfriend licks up the warm, red liquid with his tongue. 

You gasp at the filthy action and shamefully feel yourself grow even more wet. 

Before you have time to fully comprehend the dirtiness of your boyfriend’s actions, he latches his tongue to your soaking cunt, and you practically scream at the feeling. Your boyfriend has always been good with his mouth, but tonight feels… different. You can’t quite put your finger on what it is, but he’s displaying this near savage, depraved behavior that you had never seen from him before. You’re not sure if it’s for the scene or the holiday itself, but it’s turning you on in ways you had never experienced before. 

“Fuck, Suguru, that feels so good,” you whine. He lands a harsh slap on your cunt and you yelp. He practically growls against your pussy, and the vibrations ripple throughout your body, causing you to clench your toes and whine helplessly. 

You want so badly to run your fingers through his luscious hair, but the belt pinning your arms above your head keeps your hands firmly in place. 

Your body starts to shake as the sensations grow stronger once he attaches his mouth to your clit and sucks aggressively at the bundle of nerves. His hands grab hold of your hips and pull your lower body back onto the ground to keep you in place to experience the full intensity of his mouth on your mound. You clench your eyes shut and your face scrunches up as the pleasure increases and the knot in your stomach grows tighter. 

Aside from his groans, your boyfriend remains quiet. Although he’s usually quite verbal and talks you through the pleasure, your boyfriend’s uncharacteristic silence actually turns you on. It sounds sick, but it makes you feel more like an object for him to use rather than his girlfriend. 

“Oh!” you gasp as he shoves his fingers back inside you again. His skilled tongue coupled with his long fingers has your mind reeling. “I’m close! I’m so close, baby”

He moans again against your pussy and uses his free hand to drag his fingers along the shallow cuts he made on your thighs. You hiss at the feeling and feel your orgasm crash on you, making you moan so loudly you’re sure your throat will be raw tomorrow. 

Your legs are trembling as you come down from your high. Your voice is shaky as you mutter with a dopey, fucked out smile, “You always know how to drive me crazy, Suguru.”

He chuckles darkly at your comment and your blood runs cold when you hear in a cocky voice ask, “Crazy, huh?”

You freeze at the sound of the voice.

That’s not Suguru.

“What- what the fuck?” you yell. “Who the fuck are you? Get away from me!”

The stranger laughs again. “What? You don’t recognize me?” He leans in real close to whisper in your ear, “You’re telling me you’re not as obsessed with me as I am with you?”

Your eyes bulge impossibly wider as you recognize the voice of the man. 

“S-Satoru…?” you question in a meek tone. 

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!” He jokes with a dangerous undertone. He caresses your face softly, and you flinch away at the contact. He sighs in disappointment. “What’s the matter, princess? You were crazy over me a few moments ago. You said so yourself.”

You pull at your restraints and shout, “Let me go!”

Although you can’t see, you assume he rolls his eyes as he covers your mouth with his large hand. He speaks with a calm tone, dismissive of your fear and confusion. “I don’t get what the big deal is, really. I mean, Suguru and I share just about everything. Why are you the exception?”

You wiggle aggressively under his touch and he sighs before lifting his hand. 

“What’s wrong with you? I’m Suguru’s girlfriend. I’m not some toy for you to play with. Now let me go!” you demand. 

Satoru scoffs at your comment. “Ugh, it’s always the same thing from you. Suguru this and Suguru that… How bout you show me a little love, huh?”

You can tell he’s smirking based on the tone of his voice. You continue to struggle to undo the binds restricting your hands. You try yelling for help, desperate for your someone- anyone- to come to your rescue. 

Satoru just stares at your pathetic attempts to escape. Before you know it, his hand slaps your cheek, making you gasp. You feel your skin tingle as the aftermath of the hit. 

Tears well up in your eyes as you cry out, “Where is Suguru?”

Suddenly, a warmer set of hands run up your arm. Your breath hitches at the touch, unsure what to expect next. 

You gasp again as someone leans in and whispers in your ear, “Looking for me, darling?”

Honestly, you could cry tears of joy at this point. “Suguru!” you yelp. “Suguru, please get me out of here!” Expecting to be freed from your confines, you wait for a moment before you hear your boyfriend chuckle. 

“Are you sure that’s what you want, baby?” he whispers. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself when another man was between those thighs. Satoru is quite skilled with his tongue, isn’t he?”

In another world, you would have asked how Suguru knew just how well Satoru moved his tongue, but your brain is too cloudy to question his statement. As fucked up as it is, you press your thighs together slightly at his comment. You try to be discreet so as to not give away how much the situation secretly turned you on, but both men caught the not-so-subtle movement and shared a smirk. 

Satoru began massaging your thighs lightly and swiped up a bit of the remaining blood to bring to his lips. He moaned at the taste. He swore that every part of you tasted good. 

Suguru spoke softly, “If you don’t want to continue, we understand…” he began. “But based on how desperate you are to have the sweet little pussy of yours touched, I’d say you want both of us.”

You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your lips at your boyfriend’s words. Sure, Satoru was attractive. Hell, attractive would be an understatement. He and Suguru looked like they were sculpted by gods. But never in a hundred years did you imagine you’d fuck your boyfriend’s best friend. 

“You know your safeword, darling,” Suguru reminded you. “We won’t go any further unless you want to.”

You thought about it. On one hand, you should be beyond pissed for this fucked up “stunt” they pulled. But on the other hand… you couldn’t deny how much you wanted to try Satoru’s cock.

The idea of taking them both at the same time practically had your mouth watering. 

You gulped and muttered, “Y-yes.”

Satoru just raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Yes what?”

Whining, you spoke, “Yes, please.”

Both men looked at each other with sadistic smiles. That was the only sign they needed. They both understood the goal: ruin you. 

Suguru pulled the blindfold off you and tossed it to the side. “As much fun as that sensory deprivation was, I wanna see your whole face when we fuck you dumb.”

Satoru groans at the idea, “Fuck, I bet that pretty face of yours looks even better when your eyes are rolling back and your drooling from our cocks.”

Blushing at the comment, you try to turn away to hide your face. Suguru just laughs and grabs your chin, making you meet his gaze. ‘Oh, no you don’t,” he chuckled. “There’s nowhere to hide now, baby.”

He lets go of your chin and begins to strip his clothing. He pulls his shirt over his head and then swiftly removes his pants and boxers. His cock is already rock solid, and you try to conceal your whimper at the sight. Suguru hears you anyway and laughs at your desperation. 

You turn your face toward Satoru when you see him stripping out of the corner of your eye. Your eyes widen as he removes his clothes. 

Fuck.

Although your boyfriend’s cock may be thicker, Satoru’s is definitely longer. You almost scoff when you see how good he looks. Of course his cock would be as pretty as the rest of him is. He catches you ogling him and shoots you a wink. 

Before you realize what’s happening, your boyfriend lifts you up and puts you on your hands and knees to face him. He pumps his cock a few times as he looks down at your eager face and saliva soaked lips. He just laughs at your presses and teases your mouth with his thick cock. 

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he asks with a mocking pout. You hum as confirmation s you focus on his cock in front of you. Out of nowhere, you whine when he grabs your hair and tugs your face upward so your eyes meet his. “Remember your manners, baby. Look at me when I’m talking to you, yeah?”

You blink repeatedly and nod quickly. He scoffs at the action and speaks, “Words.”

You snap out of your daze and reply, “Yes, Suguru.”

He smiles at you and relaxes his firm grip on your hair. “Alright then, baby.” He exhales and caresses your face with his free hand. “Get to work.”

Wasting no time, you dive right in and take his cock in your mouth. His precum is sweet on your tongue and you suck thoroughly at the tip. He groans above you but clicks his tongue when you linger too long on the head. You take more of him in your mouth and begin to bob your head. 

You find a good rhythm with your mouth and tongue, but your gasp is muffled by Suguru’s cock when you feel something press against the lips of your pussy. Behind you, you hear Satoru groan. “Fuck,” he mutters in awe. “You’re so fucking wet that you’re dripping.”

You blush at his comment but don’t have much time to think about it before Satoru rams his cock into you. You would have screamed if it weren’t for Suguru beginning to gently fuck your mouth. 

Fuck, Satoru is huge. 

You already knew that from seeing him, but he feels impossibly larger now that he’s buried in your cunt. He lets out a loud moan at the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock and stills for a moment to collect himself. He hisses at your tightness. “If I knew you were this tight, I wouldn’t have waited so long to fuck you.” he confesses as he picks up his pace. “Hell, I would have taken you before Suguru did.”

Sweat begins to form around his hairline as he picks up his pace of fucking your throat. “Ha,” your boyfriend scoffs at his best friend. “Fat fucking chance. This golden pussy has been mine since day one. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Even if your mouth weren’t filled to the brim, you wouldn’t have been able to answer from how good it feels with Satoru fucking you. You just whine at his question. Your answer doesn’t seem to satisfy your boyfriend because he pulls out of your mouth abruptly and pumps his cock in front of you instead. You whine at the sudden loss and lick your lips to collect any remaining precum, desperate for another taste. 

“I asked you a question,” Suguru glared. “Don’t tell me you’re so cock drunk already that you can’t answer a simple question.”

You whimper at his statement and shake your head in an attempt to clear your mind and reply. When you finally open your mouth to respond, Suguru cuts you off by shoving his cock into your mouth once more. You choke at the sudden intrusion and try to maintain your breathing. You already feel lightheaded enough from the pleasure, but now the lack of oxygen is making your head even more fuzzy. 

Satoru begins fucking you with a fast and aggressive pace, moaning loudly at how good you feel. His cock reaches parts of you you didn’t even know you had. You moan around Suguru’s cock, and the vibrations add to his pleasure. He lets out a groan and fucks your throat with more intensity than he ever has before, as if to claim you in front of Satoru. 

“Ha. Trying to show off?” Although out of breath, Satoru scoffs at the sight. “Well, two can play that game.”

Satoru rams his cock into you with such power that it has you choking on Suguru’s cock even more and your eyes bulge at the sensation. You feel stuffed in a way you never have before. You thought the pleasure couldn’t get any better until Satoru reached between your thighs and began rubbing your clit in quick, circular motions. 

If you weren’t choking on your boyfriend’s cock, you would have screamed so loud that the cops may have been notified. Your moans and whines are muffled by Suguru, but you’re loud regardless. 

You look up at Suguru and make eye contact with the man. He laughs a bit, out of breath as well. 

“G-good girl, baby.” he stutters and moans. “You’re doing so good for me.”

You blush at the praise. Even when you’re being fucked dumb by two men, your boyfriend always knows how you make you feel special. 

Glancing downward, you see his stomach clenching and you know he’s close. You take a deep breath through your nose, and you push your mouth down to the base of his cock, gagging. He grabs the back of your head and holds you down for a few moments before letting you back up for air. As soon as you get a breath, he’s pushing you back down again. Tears are streaming down your cheeks at this point, partially because of your boyfriend’s large cock choking you but also because of Satoru’s unforgiving pace as he fucks you into the mattress. 

When you think things couldn’t get any hotter, you turn your head slightly to see Suguru lean forward, grab Satoru by the hair, and pull him into a searing kiss. You whine loudly at the sight.

Guess they really did have feelings for each other. 

Satoru whimpers and deepens the kiss. He brings one hand to Suguru’s hair to tug on the silky strands and pushes his tongue into his mouth. The kiss is messy and some of the spit from it drips onto your back. As Suguru pulls away from the blue-eyed boy, you feel Suguru’s pace stutter, he lets out a loud groan, and his hot cum fills your mouth. You choke again as the warm substance spills down your throat and overflows from your mouth. Suguru’s panting as he comes down from his high, but he grabs your chin before you can swallow his load. 

“Nuh uh,” he chuckles, “Open the mouth wide for me, baby.”

You do as he says and widen your mouth, drops of his cum dripping down your chin. He leans down, spitting into your open mouth. Your eyes roll back at the action and you whine. Laughing breathlessly at your response, he closes your mouth gently and hums, “Swallow every last drop, baby.” he smiles again with a devilish look in his eyes. “You’ve earned it.”

Following his instructions, you swallow his cum and open your mouth to show him you followed his orders to which he smiles at. Before you could close your mouth, you let out a particularly loud cry as Satoru hits your sweet spot, and he has you seeing stars. You’re too out of it to realize that Suguru has collected with his fingertip the cum that leaked from your lips. He brings his cum-covered finger to Satoru’s lips and while Satoru’s mouth falls open with a moan, Suguru promptly shoves his finger into Satoru’s mouth. 

The white-haired man widens his eyes in shock, but hums as he licks the salty substance off Suguru’s fingers. Satoru leans in close to you and whispers in your ear, “I’ve gotta say, your boyfriend tastes pretty good…” he pauses. “But he doesn’t taste as good as you.”

You gasp at his statement, and he leans in closer with his chest against your back. He’s so deep and so rough that it feels as if he’s fucking you like he’ll never get laid again. His desperation for you is dizzying. The idea that you have this man wrapped around your finger makes you impossibly more aroused. To think that the man who acted like he hated your guts was now whining and moaning shamelessly from being in your guts was a concept that made you weak. 

He groans behind you and looks crazed. “Oh, now that I’ve had this pussy, I’m never letting you go.”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes at Satoru’s comment as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. He’d let Satoru have his fun now, but you knew who you belonged to when all is said and done. And he also knew that Satoru was just as much a desperate whore for him as you are. 

You whimper at Satoru's relentless pace, and Satoru manhandles you into a different position. You’re now lying on your back with your legs raised and pressed against your chest. You scream at the new angle, and his cock is repeatedly hitting your sweet spot with every rough thrust of his cock. 

“Yeah, that’s it, princess,” he coos. “Take everything that I give ya.”

You can’t help but whimper at the praise. His fingers find your clit again and continue to stimulate the nub. A scream escapes you when he pinches your clit between his fingers. Although he’s panting, he manages to let out a dark chuckle at your reaction. 

“You like pain?” Satoru asks with a smirk although he already knows the answer. He knows you're too cock drunk to respond as you’re muttering nonsense and stuttering over your words. He leans closer to whisper in your ear so that Suguru can’t hear. “Well, Daddy can give you all the pain you want.”

Even in your dumb and delirious state, your eyes widen as you process his words and you whine loudly. You didn’t even know you had a daddy kink until Satoru uttered those words. All you knew was that you felt like you were going to explode at the rate Satoru was fucking you and that you were going to die if you didn’t cum soon. 

Laughing cockily at your reaction, Satoru brings his hand to your neck and squeezes tightly. His grip effectively cuts off most of your oxygen, and it has you seeing even more stars than you were a moment ago due to his fat cock. 

He pulls his hand away for a moment, making you whimper at the loss and wish his hand was still wrapped around your throat. Instead, he leans down and leaves bite after bite and hickey after hickey all over your neck and chest, effectively covering you in red marks. His smile is almost manic as he examines his work. In that moment, you’re just a doll for him to fuck, just a canvas for him to paint on. And if he weren’t planning on filling your little pussy to the brim with cum, he’d have painted your body with his load instead alongside the marks he’d left. Just as quickly as it left, he brings his hand back to your throat and practically chokes you. His other hand continues the never ending abuse on your clit, the bundle of nerves desperate for relief. 

Suguru raises an eyebrow at the scene, intrigued. He wasn’t ever that rough with you. But based on the look on your face, the tears in your eyes, and the drool from your lips, he knows that next time he fucks you, he’ll be sure to give it to you even rougher than Satoru. There’s no way he’s going to let his best friend brag about fucking you better. No one knows your pussy like your boyfriend does. He sits in a chair beside the bed and watches the two of you as his cock grows hard again. 

Satoru swears he’s never had better pussy in his life. How did he ever cum before your tight cunt was sucking him in? One thing’s for certain: Satoru’s not about to say goodbye to your pretty face and soaking wet cunt- not now or ever. He swears at the sensation and whines when he feels you tighten even more around him, signaling how close your orgasm is. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you manage to moan, tears freely flowing down your face. Satoru’s eyes darken at the sight and leaned over to collect the knife once more, releasing your throat. He brought the knife down to your boobs and made small cuts near the nipples. You let out a cry at the pain mixed with pleasure. Satoru then leans down and wraps his mouth around your nipple, using his tongue to suck the blood. “Oh my god,” you sob.

This sends you over the edge and you scream at the feeling of Satoru’s cock impaling you coupled with the sensation of pain on your chest. You’re sobbing now as Satoru continues this brutal thrusts, desperately chasing his own orgasm. “Fuck!” He curses loudly before he shoots his cum deep inside your cunt, and you scream once again at the pleasure. “Take it all, princess. You don’t wanna disappoint Daddy, do ya?”

You shiver and whine at his words. Satoru takes multiple deep breaths before he nearly collapses on top of you, and you’re both breathing heavily like you’ve run a marathon. You whimper as you feel him paint your insides white, and you wince when Satoru pulls out. Even in his post-climax daze, he looks at your pussy in awe as he watches his cum spill from your swollen pussy. You’re shocked out of your fucked out state when you hear your boyfriend clapping slowly as he walks across the room toward you both. 

“That was quite the show, Satoru.” Suguru whistles as he reaches the bed and stands beside you. You gulp as you look downward and see his solid length, as intimidating and hard as ever. Satoru looks up and meets Suguru’s gaze, a pussy drunk look on his face with blush to match. 

Your boyfriend smirks before yanking you toward him and spanking your pussy, making you yelp and quiver. “But I think I should show you how it’s really done.”

A Halloween with plenty of tricks and treats.

---

so... yeah! if you made it this far, thank you! I'm sorry if I missed you on the taglist I'm honestly not used to making one lol

taglist: @ami20019 / @ufoev3 / @that-bitch-whose-got-blogs @cccccccccccleo / @blissfuloni / @happymangospot @allofffmypeaches / @forest-fruits-jam / @avantismyname @c1-3ra

@loveitallxoxo / @aemonds-smelly-eyepatch-xoxo / @teacupwaifu

@aarronnie / @frstmn / @pricesssparkle-blog / @strawberrytwistz

@just-a-regular-gay-here103 / @tengenssock / @joonunivrs

[bahrtofane]

just your luck to have your favorite study spot taken, even if he’s cute, you’ve decided you’re enemies now. jude thinks other wise

word cout - 800+

watch it - puff fluff and silliness

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5.43 pm, 4th floor library. partly cloudy but pleasant early october day. not cold enough just yet for snow but chilly enough for cute sweaters. 

halloween is just around the corner, then thanksgiving. winter break is so close ! life is good. great even. smooth sailing. you have a celebratory donut from the cafe downstairs in one hand, and chai in the other. a little treat for the exam you just finished. 

you hum a song aimlessly under your breath as you maneuver around students and staff to get to your place. 

it’s a hidden jem. up on the top floor, allll the way back in the farthest left corner lies a tiny nook with a bean bag that overlooks campus in the prettiest way. Large triangle window with tiny little details in its fixtures.  it’s quiet, calm, and you actually get work done there. 

no ever comes up and it’s peace between the hectic campus life and extreme party culture. you're thinking of maybe just getting comfy and watching a movie today. a blanket would be nice, you could bring one next time, that one that-

your train of thought is derailed faster than it can recover.

your safe haven has been invaded.

there’s a man ! in your spot !! uhg. 

you can't believe it after almost half a semester of serenity the one thing you had is ripped away from you. mid chai, donut and all. the cruelty of the world has never seemed more apparent. you are reminded again that as soon as you can get comfortable, your ripped away and thrown back to reality. 

are you being dramatic ? yes. do you care ? no

the audacity of some people. 

you know logically this isn’t your spot. it’s in the public library where any student can sit and it’s good to share, morals are good. but holy fuck do you hope the guy who’s all cozied up has a fantastic time and maybe trips out the window. 

you resort to having to use a table like some commoner. 

——-

day 2, 4:30 pm. 4th floor. this time, you're sure everything was just a fluke and you’ll be back in business in no time. comfy cozy spot with pretty window. 

your inner peace gets squashed as yet again, your spot is being occupied. this time you need to look into the eyes of the criminal. 

you choose a seat facing the bean bag and set up shop to judge and send him bad vibes. 

unexpectedly, he’s pretty cute even from far away. handsome even. he’s got one of those faces people remember, his features sit so nice and the way he’s basically burying his face into a text book is a little cute you won’t lie. but this doesn’t change anything. 

he’s your enemy. regardless if he’s aware of it or not. 

you soon tune him about in favor of getting work done, but don’t miss the occasional glaces he gives you. 

how interesting. 

——-

your friends tell you this is the start of some enemies to lovers after you fill them in. but you don’t agree. 

especially now that it's the 3rd time. 

you think he’s quite stupid. no amount of pretty smiles and shy glances is going to change the fact that he stole your special once secret library spot. he’s ruined your life ! this is the third time he’s done so. there’s no way you're going to forgive this behavior. 

never mind you don’t know his name or the fact that you’ll most likely never talk to him. your rage runs deep, silent and personal. 

you hope his socks are wet for the next month. 

you might even start a diary just to be able to complain about him in a stupid amount of detail. whatever. 

you spend the next hour or so typing a little aggressively while hoping he bursts into flames or disappears. funny enough, while you take a little social media break, you look up to find him gone. it would be good riddance, expect for the fact that he appears in front of you not a moment later. 

“um, hi?” are the timid words that come from him. his voice does not match the face wow. 

though, he’s even more attractive up close. 

“hello? can i help you?” you try 

“yeah um, actually. i wanna apologize.” 

your left in awe. is he going to apologize for his thievery? is the criminal going to confess his guilt. is this the end of your rage. 

“ i know the bean bag is your spot because you come in at the same time i do and always use it. “

you narrow your eyes, “so you decided to take it because?”

he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, “um actually i just think you’re really cute and couldn’t think of another excuse to talk to you. my bad.”

“for the record i’m still very mad you took my spot. “ you sigh, not really though. You just like to be drammtic, but he eats it right up. cute.

he nods quickly. “understood. how about i take you out to make up for it ?”

you hum, “i’d like that. “

he smiles, “great. can i get your number to plan it out ?”

“mhm”

and with that your left with your spot now yours again. and a blooming possibility on the horizon. 

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: Nothing Ventured [Yandere Sesshoumaru x Reader]

Title: Nothing Ventured [Yandere Sesshoumaru x Reader]

Synopsis: Sesshoumaru lets you put together stuff for a Halloween party. Jaken is whiny about it.

For Horrorfest request:

Sesshoumaru with a darling that’s really into Halloween? (Maybe she’s in a kagome situation where she’s from the modern world) and goes on and on about Halloween and spooky things in general?

Word count: 1132

notes: yandere, reader is captive but is pretty much just like "this is my life now" about it

“I don’t see why you should be allowed to waste precious supplies for such, such--nonsense!”

Jaken’s impish fury being directed at you was nothing new, and you dutifully ignored him and continued working on your makeshift Halloween garland. It wasn’t anything like the type of stuff you might have bought back home, mass-produced and printed and ready-to-go, but maybe that just made it more special. 

Jaken paced back and forth in front of you, waving his stick and ranting.

“To think! The invaluable ink I use to assist our lord Sesshoumaru, wasted for some… some… silly human festival!” 

“Jaken.”

You and Jaken both froze in place. Jaken, out of anxiety, and you, out of curiosity. 

Sesshoumaru, who had been sitting silently with his eyes closed ever since giving you permission to make some decorations, was now looking directly at his servant. He looked, as he often did, passive; but you knew that didn’t mean he wasn’t irritated. 

“Y-Yes, my lord?” Jaken gave a little bow, eyes darting from you to Sesshoumaru.

“Did I not give them permission for this?”

Jaken bowed his head a little. “Y-Yes, my lord, but--”

Sesshoumaru leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes again. “Then shut up and help them. I’m tired of your complaining.”

Jaken’s face split into fury before smoothing out into exasperated obedience. “Of-of course, my lord.” 

He turned to you, mumbling, and you didn’t hold your breath that he was anything but irritated with the command his lord had given him. It wasn’t the first time that Sesshoumaru had ordered Jaken to obey your whims; something which might have seemed impossible ages ago, but now that you had settled into an uneasy acceptance of your forced servitude to a demon lord from feudal Japan, it had become more common. 

“You should be grateful, you know,” Jaken muttered, grabbing one of your complete garlands and stringing it onto the rope you’d commandeered for your makeshift Halloween celebration. He looked like he could make a good decoration himself, you thought--a creepy little creature who ran around terrorizing children while they trick-or-treated. 

He continued speaking, even as his hands began to nimbly put together a garland. “A high-ranking demon lord like lord Sesshoumaru should never demean himself by giving in to some… human celebration.”

You hummed. “I know. But Halloween is my favorite holiday back home. So I’m glad I get to bring it here… sort of.” You glanced at the DIY supplies you’d been creating for a few days. There was your garland--the highlight of the decorations, in your opinion, although  you wished you’d been able t find orange paints; a costume, for yourself, as you didn’t even entertain the idea that Sesshoumaru would be willing to dress up (you were secretly working on something for Jaken, but you would cross that bridge when you came to it); and a smattering of dishes that you were hoping to turn into something like Halloween party food. 

You sighed. It was a shame you couldn’t make mummy hot dogs or use a gelatin mold to make a Jello brain. But it wasn’t like you had a way to get back to your own time period, or a way to get back… anywhere now. Sesshoumaru wouldn’t let you, even if you asked. Even if you pleaded sweetly and obediently. That’s how you got permission to set up Halloween, by pleading and pleading, and explaining how it worked and pleading some more. 

After the garland, you were going to get to work on the pumpkin carving. At first, you’d assumed that you’d have to carve something else--plump round radishes, maybe--but when you’d sketched out a pumpkin for Sesshoumaru, he murmured that he recalled seeing some in a human vegetable garden once. 

These pumpkins were dark green, almost black. You hadn’t tried to carve them yet--hopefully the insides weren’t too different from the bright orange pumpkins you always bought around Halloween time. 

Jaken saw you looking at the stash of pumpkins he’d been forced to procure for your Halloween celebration and scoffed. “And another thing! What a waste of food! Carving faces into food… and for what! Some silly festival that I’ve never heard of? I tell you, you are the most--” 

“Jaken.”

This time, when the two of you glanced at Sesshoumaru, his eyes flashed red in warning. Just for a moment. 

Jaken stammered out an apology and you bit down on your cheek to avoid saying anything. While Jaken went dutifully back to work, you kept on looking at the demon lord, who--you would swear this on your life--gave you something like a teasing smile. Just for a moment, before he closed his eyes to rest again. Or maybe it was a trick of the light.

Abandoning the garland for a moment, you grabbed one of the charcoal drawings you’d made to test out designs for the pumpkins. You approached the seemingly resting lord Sesshoumaru and dropped down to sit near him, kneeling out of a habit of forced respect.

“Do you want to see what I’m going to carve into the pumpkins?”  

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he opened his eyes, looking at you for a moment. 

“If you want to show them to me, you may. I don’t care.”

It was the closest thing to a “yes” that you were going to get. Really, you were grateful that he was letting you do this at all. Especially after you’d talked his ear off about Halloween the first time and his only response had been, “There’s nothing like that here. It sounds foolish.” 

Maybe it was foolish. But it was the only thing you had going for you right now. So you smoothed out the papers and held them up. He looked at them with disinterest, even as you chattered away, explaining the design for each one. 

When you were done, he glanced over at his impish servant. 

“Jaken,” he said. Jaken, busy finishing up a garland with an expression of clear distaste on his face, looked up.

“Yes, my lord?”

“Watch over them while they do this. If they injure themselves, I’ll cut off your hand.”

Jaken bristled. You could practically see little feet of fear scampering up his spine as he straightened.

“Of-of course, my lord!”

Sesshoumaru sighed, and closed his eyes. 

You scampered back over to Jaken and picked up the other end of the garland to help him finish. 

Maybe you weren’t going to get to go home. Maybe it wouldn’t be a real Halloween. Maybe you were being held in this quasi-captivity by a demon lord who barely spoke to you (Jaken, for all his protests about your very existence, did respond to your chatter)--

But at least you were having some fun for once.

That counted for something. 

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

First of all: I AM IN LOVE WITH YOUR BLOG literally can't stop reading yours posts!!!!

now, i want to know if you could do a headcanon with Jhonny or Bam, about their girlfriend doing a sex photoshot with all the jackass guys (something that involved a halloween special ep + playboy idk), and he GET REALLY JEAlous

anyways i love your blog. just it.💕

Playboy Photoshoot HC’s!

Johnny Knoxville X Fem!Y/N, Bam Margera X Fem!Y/N (slight Steve-O X Fem!Reader X Chris Pontius)

Warnings: Extremely suggestive content, pornography, flirting, jealousy, awkward boners, taunting, possessiveness, leather, choking kink, praise kink, minimal plot, fighting

An: Thank you so much for the request and all the love!! What a start to my Halloween special ;) The costumes in this fic were inspired by the convict stunt that Johnny did, and fun fact: since the first movie was released arround a week before Halloween, this is all totally feasible! Ps. I completed more than one request for these HC’s , so see attached! ;)

That halloween photoshoot looked more like a frat party held in a Toys R Us than a legitimate operate run by Playboy, what with all the props and bizarre costumes

Not a typical set up, but they wernt exactly dealing with typical subjects…

You were dressed up in this sexy little leather number that was supposed to be a police officer’s uniform judging by the hat,

On the other hand, your boyfriend and his buddies dressed as convicts clad in orange jumpsuits, no tiny skirts or egregious heels to be found

You thought to call sexism on that, but part of you knew that if you did Chris would offer to wear the outfit too and match with you and he’d probably be able to pull that off.

While the others were fucking arround on the faux prison set, Johnny wandered over to one of the photographers, “Hey, anybody know where-?”

Coincidentally, that’s right about when you walked on set,

The second he saw you all dressed up, Knoxville got those big cartoon heart eyes and stuck out his wrists in a ‘cuff me’ gesture. Your heart melted

“Ah! You are just too much!” Giggling, you pulled him in for a hug, incidentally squishing his face in your boobs (thanks, egregious heels),

Not that he minded, nor the other guys, who were very not sneakily watching you two.

The cameras started flashing, and while you didn’t exactly know what to expect out of a porno photo shot, it certainly wasn’t this-

Sandwiching you him and Chris, Steve chuckled lowly in your ear, “You gonna frisk me, officer?”

Despite the obvious suggestive tone, he really only said it to be funny.

What else are you supposed to say when you’ve got your hands all on your buddy’s chick?

And while innocent as well, Pontius didn’t make the situation any better when he leaned over his shoulder from where he was squished up behind you and asked,

“Y’think I could try that on next? It looks great on you!”

Any guy would get pissed at this. Especially Johnny, who wants exactly the most open to you gettin’ felt up by his buddies

Sitting just off to the side, Knoxville was quietly fuming. I mean, there’s a fine line here, and those two idiots were getting pretty damn close to it.

Bam was about to nonchalantly kick flip over that line.

Given the setup and the leather and handcuffs and whatnot, things got, for lack of a better word, dominatrixy

Pulling Bam into an armhold with a prop baton for a couple shots, you really had no clue he would get hard before you sat down to straddle his hips

He didn’t seem like the choking type but hell, who are you to speculate?

Those orange jumpsuits did nothing to hide the obvious.

While making full on eye contact with Knoxville, he flashed him a shit eating grin and let out a taunting little groan, “Fuck…”

He knew he was screwed. Or more aptly, you were screwed

Like the discrete man he was, Johnny quietly pulled you away from the action and into a dressing room. Shutting the door behind you, he stood far too close,

“Y/N,” Knoxville leaned in and put his big hands on your shoulders, trying to keep his voice down as he explained, “I don’t like the way the guys’ve been lookin’ at you.”

Grinning, you poked fun at his sudden hesitance, “Cmon- It’s a Playboy shoot.”

This was your chance, Eyes glinting, you provoked him a bit, “What? You jealous or somethin’?” His lips straightened into a stiff line.

The sound of his resolve cracking, then breaking was nearly audible as he snapped, “Yeah, I’m jealous!”

Before you could spit out that he’s the one that asked you to do this, Knoxville pounced on you.

Wrapping you up in those gangly arms, his hands searched for any skin to find purchase on

It was brutal. Animalistic and angry and drenched in hormones; even you were a little surprised by it. Not in a million years would you think a guy like him had it in him

Not that you didn’t enjoy it. In fact, you enjoyed it a lot more than you’d care to admit.

Here you were in some dressing room, tugging at eachother’s clothes like you couldn’t get them off fast enough.

In the fervor, the two of you tumbled onto a couch, your hands fisting orange as Knoxville made his little bid for territory,

Burying his face in your neck, the air between your bodies was thick. Hands working at costume pleather, Johnny couldn’t fight off a grin at himself.

With a murmur, his natural ability to goad a reaction slipped through, “Yeah? Cmon- y’think Bam could do this?”

You knew it as well as he did- if Bam was in his shoes, looking down at you like this, that dipshit would’ve glued his boxers to his left leg the minute he walked in the room.

Shaking your head no, you let out a little gasp as Johnny roughly hiked your leg up on his hip

He chuckled to himself, eyes glinting as he murmured, “Atta girl…”

[myheadhurtscutely]

Star Stationary - Modern!Anakin Skywalker x Reader - Chp. 2

C ` Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Summary ` Since the Halloween party, you've been kind of down about the brown-haired girl you saw Anakin kiss, but no time to fret. Anakin can't bear to see you sad for long.

!Warnings! Angst. But little fluffy bits here and there

wc ` 1.3k

notes ! this is closely based on characters, Jim and Pam, from a tv show, The Office.

Chapter one

It had been a couple weeks since you and Anakin walked out of the party to deliver him to that beautiful woman in his front seat. As much as you hated to say it, you cried on the way to your car. You only knew him for a bit, but something about him felt special. A type of feeling you never had before. A gut feeling that you two were supposed to meet. Regardless, suck it up and move on. You had better things to do then sulk.

Today was the first time you had even made eye contact with him since then. He had slid some papers over your desk to fax. You looked up, expecting to see one of your other coworkers, but your eyes followed the trail from his silver watch, to his pale blue sleeve, his neatly tucked collar, up to his tanned neck, his tightened jaw, and finally, his beautiful baby blues. It was only a quick glance, but it was as if this was his way of asking to go back to how you were. A small gesture where he says he needs you.

"I um, I need you to fax this for me please." He adjusted his glasses, as you merely nodded, grabbing the papers off your desk. You felt his eyes follow you to the fax machine, and soon his feet followed suit. You stood there, eyes unwavering from the papers and the machine. His remained glued to you, as if he was in a trance.

"Here you go." Your voice was quiet as you handed them back to him. His hand brushed your pointer finger.

"Thank you receptionist." His little joke didn't land. You just stared at him. In his awkward state of embarrassment, he nodded his head and walked back to his desk. You tried not to think much of it, but god how you missed him. Your desk felt empty without your blonde statue to stand in front of it and pester you when you were in a pinch.

Your eyes drifted to his direction often times, and his to yours, but your visions never crossed paths.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────

Lunch rolled around after what seemed like ages. You had made yourself comfortable in one of the blue chairs in the break room. Alone. Everyone had already taken their lunch earlier, but you had become so slammed at one point you had almost forgot.

Mid-bite into your sandwich, the door creaked open. A pair of blue eyes briefly met with yours, but you quickly removed contact, focusing back on your lunch.

"Stop doing that."

What the hell? Who did he think he was?

"I beg your pardon?" You finished your bite, turning to meet his eyes again.

"Don't play dumb. You know what I mean. I don't mean to come off rude..." His confident demeanor faltered for a second at the thought of hurting your feelings.

"Anakin don't-"

"Don't what? Ask my friend what's going on?" Friend. God, you had newfound hatred for that word and everything it meant.

"Nothing's wrong..." He had made his way to your table, scooting a chair out and plopping himself down across from you, leaning on his forearms.

"You know I can tell when your lying." You let out a fake laugh.

"Listen I've been there before... let me help you." Your eyes bulged. What was he talking about? Help you? Surely, he was out of his mind. You kept your mouth shut, chewing, waiting to hopefully hear more of his proposition. "Moving to a new place is hard. Having no one to talk to... let me help get you out there!" You let go of a breath you didn't know you were holding. "Padme has this friend-"

"I'm good." Padme. That name would ring in your ears the rest of the week. Hell, maybe even month. Your stomach twisted and curled at her name, completely making yourself blind to Anakin's pleas. You couldn't help but curse yourself for picturing yourself in her place. She had done nothing wrong, and you weren't that type of person.

After much consideration, you put the last bite of your sandwich down. "I'm sorry Anakin. You're right. I shouldn't have been such an ass." Both of you laugh and smile. As you walk to the door, Anakin opens it for you, guiding you through with his hand on the small of your back.

You cursed yourself for how it made you feel. But did you have a choice?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────

The clock ticked, 20 minutes till 5. Thank God. Your's and Anakin's playful antics resumed to a degree. Passing each other silly notes, sarcastic emails, and of course customer gossip.

RING!!!

The company phone pulled you out of your daydreams. You answered greeting them politely and offering your standard help. A feminine voice answered on the other side. She asked to be directed to Anakin.

"Of course, one second please!" Your smiley voice faded as you put the phone down and redirected her call. "Anakin, hey, line three!" You held up your three fingers and whisper yelled to him.

He shook his head, nodded, and smiled.

You genuinely weren't trying to be in his business, but his "business" client was beginning to sound like a very personal conversation. Anakin held his head low, and kept his voice down. You could pick up small bits of his sentences. He wasn't happy.

"I blocked you for a reason- Padme- please- I don't want to talk right now- stop it- c'mon" His low voice hummed under the white noise of the office.

After minutes, his telephone slammed back down in its place. The whole office jumped, looking over at Anakin who gently raised his hands, apologizing quickly, reassuring everyone.

After minutes of rubbing his temples, his eyes followed you as you grabbed your coat off the rack. Several other people were making their way to the exit. It was five and no one was in the mood to stay longer. You couldn't blame 'em. This white light was mind numbing.

After a moment of grabbing your belongings, it was just you and him.

"Hey," His voice called out to you. You turned to meet him. "here's that guy's number." Not quite the romantic confession you were dreaming of, but it was whatever. He handed you a sticky note with Padme's friend's name and number. He really meant the best. You couldn't be mad.

"Thanks.."

"Don't thank me." He smiled coming up to you, towering over you. He looked at you almost as if he was asking permission for something. You looked at him quizzically. His hands guided themselves to your coat, buttoning the first two top ones. "It's cold out y'know."

You knew, but he just made you feel warm inside.

"Cmon let's go." He stuck his arm out, offering it to guide you out. You playfully smacked him and walked in front of him, making your way to the elevator first. You quickly tried to get the door to close, but he stuck his hand through, triggering the sensors just in time.

He moved into the small space, parading his body weight over you, backing you into a corner, pretending you weren't there. "Anakin!" You said muffled.

"Oh sorry! Didn't see you there." He moved to the side, smiling as he took your light hits to his arm with ease. The rest of the elevator ride was spent with silent smiles, and muffled laughs, the kind of laughter only the two involved would understand.

Ding!

The doors opened, revealing the lobby to you and Anakin. Once again, he raced ahead of you to hold the door open, guiding you out the way.

You made your way to your car, and he had followed, opening the door for you. After you ducked your way inside, he gestured for you to turn and take your feet out of the door side so he could close it. "Drive safe alright?" He whispered, tapping the top of your vehicle.

"Yes sir." You chuckled, looking down. He just smiled in response, gently closing the door as he waved.

notes: THIS TOOK FOREVER I AM SO SORRY, FINALS AND STUFF ARE CRAZY. I am trying so hard to write because it is fulfilling, and I love communicating with everyone, but it has been stressful and I've barely found time. I promise I'll try and get better about it, just have a lot on my plate, (trust, I will eat tho). Sorry this one is a lot shorter, I just don't want to add onto a chapter if it doesn't feel fitting y'know.?Regardless, thank you so much for being patient with meee. I hope you enjoyed!

tags ` @darthgloris , @queenie-official , @bby-imasociopath , @mxltifxnd0m , @jayrami3 , @robertsmithclone , @brainscabs , @bimbo-baggins86 , @t8lzw

(<3)

[ecoterrorist-katara]

I really liked your meta about bloodbending, this is a big ask but how do you think that the whole bloodbending storyline could/should be rewritten? It’s clear that the writers are using bloodbending as a metaphor for slavery but it rarely comes across that way, and poor Hama was failed spectacularly by the writing

hello anon! thank you for this fabulous question & hope you don't mind that it took me ages to get to it.

TL;DR: I think making Hama into a serial killer/abductor was a terrible narrative choice. If it were up to me, Katara would have a (child-friendly) ethics discussion about bloodbending with Hama, who then joins them on the Day of the Black Sun. After the war, bloodbending becomes a lynchpin issue when the North attempts to colonize the South, but Hama and Yugoda find healing uses for bloodbending in the kerfuffle.

But first, my "ATLA bungled colonialism themes" soapbox: to me, bloodbending is a metaphor on two levels. The storyline about how Southern Waterbenders are captured and then transported to the FN certainly seems to reference the Transatlantic Slave Trade, like you said, though without the labour exploitation aspect; the storyline about Hama and bloodbending feels like an allegory for guerrilla resistance in general. Imo the narrative kind of cheapened these potential real-world connections by making The Puppetmaster a spooky Halloween special with a dash of “an eye for an eye” parable. The narrative's treatment of bloodbending, and Hama, feels like an unintentional reflection of “unacceptable” colonial resistance and "dark" knowledge of the colonized (fearmongering around Vodou etc). A common colonial narrative is that the colonized are sinister and underhanded for engaging in things like guerrilla warfare, which is either too violent or too cowardly depending on what’s more convenient for the colonizers’ narrative at a specific point in time. I think ATLA’s approach to bloodbending reflects this general sentiment, especially since Hama is drawn as this creepy Hansel & Gretel-style witch, a keeper of a sinister / untrustworthy / threatening type of knowledge. I also really don't like the part of the story where Hama became a serial abductor out of this indiscriminate thirst for revenge. While it's possible in real life for a colonized, incarcerated person to make those decisions, and good fiction can explore that effectively, a children's show is not the place. ATLA's target audience and general tone couldn't handle all the complexities around that, so they turned Hama into a cartoon witchy villain. Groundbreaking.

Anyway, I think the start of The Puppetmaster is actually very promising. Hama's story, and the children's discovery of her SWT roots, was touching. Katara's growing sense of unease at discovering the "darker" uses of waterbending (taking water out of flowers) is interesting. Katara is the perfect character to explore the intricacies of "how far is too far in colonial resistance." Because she's not a pacifist, like Aang, but she's also not a total pragmatist, like Sokka or Suki, and she cares about the fates of random people more than Toph. She's angry and compassionate in equal amounts.

I would love a conversation between Hama and Katara about bloodbending -- not in the dead of night while Katara has to protect her friends, but where Hama talks about the genuine hopelessness she felt in the Fire Nation prison. And Katara could talk about why she thinks bloodbending is wrong -- taking away someone's agency -- and Hama can ask Katara what she would've done in that scenario; maybe she can point out that she could have made the FN guards kill each other, but she only made them open her cell door, so it was the least violent escape she could have done; and I think, framed that way, Katara would have started to see bloodbending not through a lens of fear and disgust, but sheer pragmatism, and realize that all bending can be good or bad.

During the war, I think Katara and Sokka could convince Hama to join them on the Day of the Black Sun: Hama, for the first time in decades, has hope, and she gets to see some of the people who used to be just little kids when she was kidnapped from her home.

After the war, bloodbending would become a hot button issue in North-South relations. I could easily see the Northern waterbenders being horrified at bloodbending, in the same way Medieval Europe & puritan America have been horrified by witchcraft and other feminine-coded knowledge. I could envision the Northerners using bloodbending as justification for why women shouldn't be allowed to waterbend, and justification for why the South is backwards and therefore needs the North's influence (which would also tie nicely into the North and South comic). While Katara is busy with the political BS, Hama is swapping notes with Yugoda the healing master, and then they would eventually arrive at the conclusion that bloodbending could be used to heal.

(I can't take credit for the "Northerners horrified at bloodbending" idea, btw -- colourwhirled's Southern Lights has a storyline around it.)

Anyway, Hama deserved so much better. I like seeing her in AUs where she never had that stupid "kidnapping FN civilians" plot, like the aforementioned Southern Lights, or Lykegenia's The Things We Hide (which I read earlier this year and loved!). Hama and Jet's storylines are why I don’t trust ATLA’s politics, nor the politics of its creators. As much as I love Zuko and find his redemption arc to be an incredible story of a conscientious objector in the heart of the empire, Hama and Jet should have also gotten their redemptions too.

[primaviva]

TRUTH OR DARE

PAIRING: ghostface!gwen stacy x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: paranoia and the creeping feeling that someone is watching you have been happening ever since the start of the school year once you got together with your boyfriend, randy robertson. but when he gets murdered and queens starts an uproar over this secret ghost killer, you get a call at night from a stranger in the middle of the night, and they wanna play a game. truth or dare?

NOTES: scream au! violent descriptions (nothing too much just with the use of ghostface it’s expected), reader experiencing comphet, major jealousy and heavy flirting, stalking, obsessive!gwen, nothing too much. nickname “good girl” mentioned once but in a taunting way not no bdsm type way we don’t do that here. HEAVY MAKEOUT. enjoy??

the black cloak and white mask seemed to be everywhere, a constant presence that infiltrated every corner of your world.

it dominated the media— from news broadcasts to social media feeds, newspapers, and even the e!news tabloids. the images from those fateful nights were plastered in front of your eyes repeatedly, each time reopening the wounds and forcing you to relive the heart-wrenching moments.

it all began at a costume party hosted by the notorious playboy, harry osborn, in anticipation of halloween. autumn held a special place in your heart, particularly as it transitioned into the eerie and enchanting season of october. tim burton's movies, with their dark whimsy, were a particular favorite of yours. that's why you convinced your boyfriend, randy, to dress as victor and emily from the corpse bride.

randy was a tall, somewhat dorky guy hailing from a loving african american household. while he had a reputation as an athletic football player, his true passion lay in writing, more specifically the realm of journalism. he seemed like the perfect match for you, and yet, there was an indescribable hesitation lingering in your heart. it wasn't that he wasn't right for you or vice versa, but really a blend of uncertainty and fear. perhaps it stemmed from him being the first guy to actively pursue and ask you out, leaving you unsure of what lay ahead. or maybe you were just grappling with the question of whether he actually fit your ideal type. it was a feeling you couldn’t explain in words.

the corpse bride held a special place in your heart, beyond the fall season. however, it did turn you off how much convincing it took to get randy on board with the idea of matching halloween outfits. after all, it was just a couple's costume. so what was his problem?

the night began on a high note as you arrived at the party with randy. the vibrant lights bathed the room in ever-changing colors. people danced and swayed to the infectious rhythm of the music, while others indulged in halloween-themed snacks and drinks in the corners.

you spotted your friends and decided to join them, breaking away from randy to spend time with his own friends. or so you thought. randy never struck you as the cheating type. with his gentle giant demeanor, he seemed like the perfect match for you— kind, considerate, and driven, basically all the qualities a girl should want in a guy.

but then, everything came crashing down when you caught sight of him in a corner, locked in a passionate kiss with sally avril. at that moment, time seemed to slow to a crawl before abruptly hurtling forward.

“what the hell? this whole time you were acting like you wanted to be with me but instead you’re messing around with the bootleg avril lavigne?” you shouted, the words erupting from your lips.

your eyes locked with hers as she stared at you in disbelief. the look you had only intensified as you saw her weakly hide behind him. you didn’t care if you were disrespectful, that was the last thing on your mind at the moment.

randy's gaze was fixed on you, fear and guilt circling within his eyes as you turned to him. “you are the most trifling man i have ever met. if you felt this way, why not end it? but no, you wanna act like a little bitch and make me come dressed with you just to embarrass me. never let me see your face again,” you declared.

angry that a friend of yours who knew he was taken decided to kiss him anyway. angry that your ex boyfriend couldn’t just do the bare minimum out of respect and tell you the truth, instead being sneaky behind your back. angry that you felt embarrassed and like an idiot for even believing something like this would work out.

as tears welled up in your eyes, you turned away, walking off in a haze of hatred. your friends tried to console you, practically begging for you to stay, but you needed to be alone to process the overwhelming pain. seeking solace, you found yourself outside, rain pouring down, mirroring just how you felt. the raindrops traced a path from your head down to the curve of your nose, mingling with the wet fabric of your dress. in that moment, all you desired was to be alone in the dark with your thoughts, away from the prying eyes of friends, and just calm down.

ironic how you were dressed as emily, considering you felt like the other woman.

it was when you were lost in your thoughts that you heard a a piercing scream reverberating through the house, jolting you from your previous assumptions that it was all part of a macabre party activity. your body tensed, and you swiftly turned towards the entrance, witnessing a wave of terrified people streaming out in panic.

driven by curiosity and a growing sense of unease, you stepped forward, determined to unravel the mystery unfolding before you. as you made your way inside, the scene that greeted you was far from anything you could have anticipated.

the grand staircase, once an elegant display of cream-colored opulence, now bore a twisted transformation. its steps were drenched in a vivid, saturated red, creating an otherworldly and macabre sight that churned your stomach. blood cascaded down in a haphazard and unsettling manner, leading your gaze to the source of the horror.

there, at the bottom of the staircase, lay randy, with a broken neck.

his friend, chad, had turned him over, revealing a sight that sent shivers down your spine. it was evident that randy had suffered a fatal blow to his chest, inflicted by a shard of glass or some other jagged object.

initially, you thought it was just a tragic accident, but deep down, you knew better. you had witnessed the fear and confusion etched in randy's eyes while his body laid limp on the floor. it was clear to you that someone or something had ruthlessly taken his life.

the night wore on as the police conducted their investigation, and you found yourself subjected to interviews, polygraphs, and everything else demanded of you to piece together the events that unfolded.

you still don’t know what happened that night. the weight of remorse for randy's tragic fate bears heavily upon your heart, not in the personal sense of romantic love, but in the recognition that no one deserves to meet such a brutal end. the haunting image of his final moments, consumed by fear and confusion, you couldn’t help but feel guilty.

it engulfs you in sleeplessness, much like tonight. the continuous string of events and criminal activities associated with this enigmatic apparition has caused an overwhelming amount of stress, making it impossible for you to find solace and rest during the night.

frustrated, you let out a sigh and forcefully throw off your covers, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. with a gentle unplug from the charger, you notice that it has sufficient battery to allow you to use it comfortably while lying down.

unlocking your phone with your password, you open tiktok, perhaps the least advisable app to open if you intended to sleep. however, acknowledging the chances of you falling asleep anytime soon, you decide to indulge in it anyway.

as you glance at the corner of your phone, you notice the time reads 11:30. you make a promise to yourself to scroll for just a few minutes before attempting to sleep again.

and so, time passes by, more than just a couple of minutes. suddenly, a ringing sound interrupts your tiktok video, and a notification pops up at the top of your screen, automatically muting the video. the incoming call displays as "no caller id," causing you to dismiss it, unwilling to immediately hang up in case it's a scammer testing the validity of your phone number.

returning to your scrolling, the number calls again. it becomes clear that it's an actual person trying to reach you. annoyed, you press the red button, rejecting the call. almost immediately, your phone starts ringing again, persistently calling you.

clicking your tongue in irritation, you sit up in bed and examine the unknown caller id.

why do they keep calling?

"fuck it," you groan, deciding to answer the call. "hello?"

a profound silence ensues, only accompanied by the faint background noise resembling a gentle breeze.

"hello, (y/n)," the voice on the other end utters.

it lacks a natural quality, instead exuding a cold and detached demeanor, yet with a tinge of arrogance.

"how do you know my name? who the hell is this?" you demand, seeking answers.

the fact that this person knows your name, especially at this late hour, immediately sends chills down your spine.

a deep, dark chuckle emanates from the voice before it speaks again. "wanna play a little game?" the voice asks.

you sigh in irritation. "i asked you a question, who are you?"

silence lingers on the other end of the line before the voice breaks it once more. "don't you want to play? it’ll be fun, i promise," the voice adds, its tone dripping with a smirk.

despite your initial inclination to hang up and leave this peculiar individual to their own devices, there was something about them that piqued your curiosity. the voice carried a feminine quality, although it was difficult to discern due to its thick, apathetic tone. beneath the eerie and disconnected facade, there seemed to be a hint of something more in the way they conversed with you. it was as if they genuinely wanted to engage in conversation.

you scoffed, rising from your bed and catching a glimpse of the night sky. "fine, i'll play. what game?"

you could hear the voice on the other end eagerly patting their thigh in excitement. "good girl, i like them feisty. how about a nice game of truth or dare?" the voice suggested, its eagerness palpable.

feeling a hint of nervousness at being referred to as "good girl," you cautiously responded, "truth or dare? okay. what are the rules?" the sinister yet mysterious aura still sent shivers down your spine.

the voice cleared their throat, adopting a more official tone as they explained the rules of the game. "well, you see, the rules are simple. each player chooses either truth or dare. the chosen option determines what the other player does. truth means you'll be asked a question, while dare means you must perform a task." after a brief pause, the voice continued, "the first player is you. which are you going to choose, truth or dare?"

slowly pacing around the room, you pondered your response but ultimately decided to play it safe. "um, truth," you mumbled into the phone.

"okay then, beautiful. what's your favorite color?" the voice inquired.

you couldn't help but burst into laughter at the simplicity of the question.

"what, did i say something funny?" they whispered through the microphone, clearly perplexed.

"no, no. it's just... for a creepy stranger calling me at night, that was the most ordinary question you could have asked," you explained, a few giggles escaping your lips as you spoke.

although you couldn't see it, you could almost imagine the person on the other end of the line smirking. "what do you expect when you receive a creepy call at midnight from a creepy stranger who knows your name and starts a creepy game of truth or dare with you?" they retorted, their sense of humor evident.

you laughed at their wit and couldn't help but feel a sense of strangeness in going along with all of this.

"what do you want?" you asked once more, silently hoping for a genuine answer.

"what i always desire," they stated nonchalantly, causing a shudder to run down your spine as their voice suddenly adopted a tender tone. "you, of course."

"w-what?" you mouthed, barely managing to whisper the words.

you found yourself utterly bewildered by their statement, but before you could dwell on it, the voice swiftly redirected your attention.

"i think i asked you a question. what's your favorite color?"

"it's (f/c). i practically wear it all the time, or at least whenever i have an excuse to. i even buy things in that color," you rambled, attempting to clarify. "but it's not like an obsession or anything."

"i know all about obsession," the voice responded darkly, taking an unsettling turn for a moment. "i bet it looks stunning on you. not that i would know, right?"

a blush crept up your cheeks at the compliments and endearing terms. it had been a while since you had received such attention. yet, even in those instances, it didn't evoke the same spark as it did now. the nervousness it stirred within you felt oddly exhilarating, unlike anything you had experienced from your boyfriend or the other guys at school.

"okay, i guess it's my turn now. so, truth or dare?" you ask the mysterious figure.

they let out a slight chuckle. "truth or dare, huh? i think i'll go with the truth."

a smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you sense their attempt to put you at ease.

"what's your favorite hobby? or, you know, your favorite thing to do, if you have one," you inquire.

there's a moment of silence on the other end as you patiently await their response. "drumming. i'm a drummer in a band, you know? i've heard girls like the title of being a rockstar's girlfriend," they reply.

you giggle at their comment. "the drummer's girlfriend, huh? isn't it a bit egotistical to call yourself a rockstar?"

"maybe it is, so what?" they retort, followed by a low, raspy chuckle.

another laugh escapes your lips. "that's actually really cool. i've heard that drumming takes a lot of skill and practice. and if you're in a band, then i'm sure you're pretty talented."

"you're... you're really interested in this kind of stuff?" they ask, their tone transitioning from confidence to astonishment. "nice to know a girl like you has good taste. i'm sure you'd love to feel the calluses on my fingertips," they tease.

you can't help but nervously giggle at the stranger's words, a swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"now it's your turn," you remind them.

"well, truth or dare?" the voice asks.

"dare," you reply almost immediately.

you hear them let out a laugh from the other end, presumably in response to your eagerness. "bold, i like it," they comment. "i dare you to spin around in a circle until i say stop."

you tilt your head to the side, slightly perplexed by the dare. "are you serious?"

once again, their laughter fills the line. "come on and give me a show, ballerina."

letting out a sigh, you begin to spin around, unraveling into a fit of giggles. you can't deny that you wonder why they chose this particular dare, out of all the possibilities. but it serves as a distraction, and part of you is content with that.

"and stop," they command, and your feet come to a halt, your head lightly pounding from the spinning.

catching your breath, you resume speaking. "happy?" you ask, lacing your words with sarcasm.

"ecstatic," the ominous voice replies. "thanks for the view. as a former dancer, i'd give you a ten out of ten."

maybe it's the impending headache, but you could have sworn they thanked you for the view. which also means they could see you. but that's not possible, right?

"your turn, hurry up and pop the question," the voice commented, its impatience evident.

running out of questions and feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity, you blurted out, "do... do you like girls?"

silence greeted your question, and you mentally facepalmed at your awkwardness.

"oh," they whispered, seemingly taken aback. "i think you forgot to include the truth or dare part, babe."

your voice caught in your throat, leaving you speechless. you felt like a deer caught in headlights, frozen in fear.

"but i can't help it when i see a pretty girl like you so desperate for a response. i don't just like girls," the voice replied, a small snicker following. "i love them."

heat tingled behind your ears, spreading to your cheeks once more.

"how did you, um, know?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

"i haven't even told you i'm a girl yet, and you're already assuming. i'll take that as a compliment," they mumbled, their tone bordering on mockery. "i just know who i like."

silence fell once again, and you found yourself lost in your thoughts. this inexplicable feeling that washed over you was something you couldn't quite put into words.

"i'll let my curiosity guide me here, but when was the last time you had... intimate relations with someone?" the voice asked, waiting for your answer.

a dry laugh escaped your lips, shattering the silence of your room. "what, my ex-boyfriend? what are you trying to get at?"

"ever thought about having a girlfriend?" the voice asked, its tone now more aggressive and snide, seemingly triggered by the mention of your ex.

the mention of a girlfriend made your mouth go dry. there had always been a certain connection missing from your previous relationships, but you could never quite pinpoint what it was or whether it was something about you or them. the question caught you off guard, but before you could delve into it, the voice steered the conversation back to the game.

"truth or dare?" the ghostly voice asked.

"truth," you replied, this time with hesitance compared to the last.

"okay, truth is... what's your deepest, darkest fantasy? what's something you've always wanted to do?" the voice asks.

"deepest, darkest fantasy? wow, that's kind of corny," you scoffed. "um... it's not really dark, but... i don't know. sometimes i just want to run away and get away from everything. people can be so shitty sometimes, and you reach a point where you just can't deal with it anymore. i think i'm at that point. sorry, that's kind of embarrassing to share with a stranger." you lick your lips as you gather your thoughts. "anyway, truth or dare?"

you can hear the voice chuckle. "i like a woman who speaks her mind. talking to someone about your problems is always nice, especially when they can relate. i think that's a good fantasy, running away from your problems and starting fresh. can't say i haven't ever thought of it," they reply, their tone laced with empathy. "dare, all the way."

it's a little relieving to hear someone who can relate to you, even if they are a creepy stranger.

you come back from your thoughts. "i dare you to tell me your name."

the voice on the other end lets out a laugh as they think about your dare. "oh, alright, if you insist." their tone shifts to sound more flirtatious as they continue. "that's such a boring dare, though." they pause for a moment before speaking again. "my name is... well, you can call me ghostface." ghostface states, their tone a bit more arrogant as they introduce themselves.

"very funny," you scoff, not believing them. there's no way in your mind that you're flirting on the phone with a slasher in queens. "come on, who are you? are you just messing with me at this hour?"

you can hear the voice sounding annoyed by your response, their tone shifting away from flirtatious. "you think i don't have the guts after one conversation? you know what, forget it. i was trying to have some fun with this, but it's clear you don't appreciate it. let's start the game over." the voice pauses for a moment before speaking again. "truth or dare?" they ask, their tone serious now.

"what?" you question, the adrenaline threatening to surge through your veins from how abruptly uncomfortable it got. "truth..."

you can hear the voice sounding eager as you pick truth. "alright then. here's your truth. what are you wearing right now?" the voice asks, their tone sounding flirtatious again.

"my pajamas... why?" you ask, confused and weirded out as your heart begins to pound nervously.

you hear a low chuckle on the other end of the line.

"no reason. it's just hard to make out what you're wearing from here," ghostface taunts nonchalantly, a sinister edge in their voice.

"what the fuck?" you shout out, fear and anger coursing through you.

"well, it's time for the dare. here's your dare," the voice said, pausing for a moment. "i want you to look out your window. take a good look," ghostface spoke, their tone now commanding.

you were too shocked to respond, but you reluctantly moved the curtain aside and peered out the window, surveying the ground below. to your relief, everything appeared normal—nothing out of place or ominous.

"nothing..." you mumbled, your confusion growing.

ghostface chuckled on the other line. "open your window," the voice demanded.

your heart dropped, apprehension seizing you.

"what?" you asked, your confusion intensifying as you focused your gaze on the window.

ghostface's tone became more forceful. "i said, open your window," they commanded, their voice leaving no room for negotiation.

you didn't respond, feeling your breathing quicken over the phone as you grappled with the presence of this mysterious individual. you sensed their frustration as they let out a sigh and licked their lips.

"you know what, how about another round of truth or dare? it's my turn," the voice taunted.

you began to slowly back away towards your bed, your instincts urging you to distance yourself from this unsettling situation.

"truth or dare?" ghostface asked, their tone growing impatient.

but you didn't answer, the scary reality of the moment setting in. fear tightened its grip around your heart.

"truth or dare? don't make me say it again," ghostface insisted.

you remained silent, a mix of fear, defiance, and self-preservation guiding your actions.

"oh, what the hell. no more choices then, (y/n). i dare you to open your windo-" before ghostface could finish their sentence, you abruptly hung up the phone and swiftly pulled the curtain shut, blocking out any further interaction with the mysterious caller.

"(y/n)? c'mon, don't be a party pooper," ghostface said, their tone flirtatious once again as the line went silent. a few seconds later, you heard quiet shuffling behind you, causing your heart to pound with fear.

realizing that you needed to take action, you swiftly grabbed the chair from your desk and dragged it into the hallway outside your room. you closed the door and positioned the chair below the doorknob, creating an obstacle that would make it difficult for someone to open the door, though not impossible.

suddenly, your heart skipped a beat as the sound of glass shattering echoed from inside your room, followed by a loud thud hitting the floor. your adrenaline surged, and before you could react, the door handle began to jiggle violently. you heard the sounds of your belongings being knocked over, accompanied by a loud crashing noise as the entire door shook. the playful tone in ghostface's voice had vanished, replaced by a sinister and threatening tone.

backing away from the door, you clutched your phone tightly, fearing it might break between your trembling palms.

"leave me the fuck alone!" you yelled, your voice filled with desperation. "if you know what's best for you, you'll leave now."

a sinister chuckle came through the door as it shook violently. ghostface sounded excited, his tone now both menacing and playful. "no matter how hard you try to push me away, i'm not going anywhere, babe. so you might as well just... let me in. you don't want me to break this door down. please don't make me."

"i'm not doing a damn thing!" you yelled back, your voice quivering with a mix of anger and fear as you ran downstairs.

frantically reaching for the railing, you rushed down the stairs while simultaneously dialing 911. the operator answered with the familiar "911, what's your emergency?" prompt as you frantically explained your terrifying situation. you provided them with your address and informed them of the intruder's presence in your home.

suddenly, you heard a loud bang. "you know, the police might not get here in time to help you, (y/n)!" ghostface taunted, his words sending a chill down your spine. "who are you going to call for help? your dead boyfriend?"

as the woman on the other end of the line asked if you had a place to hide, time seemed to slow down, reminiscent of that dreadful night at the party. slowly, you turned your gaze upward from the floor below, your eyes fixated on your once-barricaded bedroom door.

"sorry about him, by the way. i tried to talk to him, i really did! didn't go too well," ghostface spoke, his voice laced with a disturbing mix of amusement and regret. "i guess all those muscles didn't help much."

ghostface had broken down the door, and your eyes darted towards the bathroom— the closest room you could hide in— as you shut the door behind you, hoping to buy yourself some time.

"he seemed like a decent guy for you, shame i had to carve him up like a pumpkin. no one really appreciates a good woman anymore. i probably did you a favor, taking the trash out, if you catch my drift," ghostface taunted, his tone oozing with cockiness and a disturbing familiarity with your personal life.

you could hear ghostface getting closer, their footsteps echoing on the wooden floor as they walked down the nearby stairs and stopped outside the door to the room you were hiding in. the sound of their footsteps sent shivers down your spine. "come out... come out... c'mon now. you have until i count to three," ghostface stated, their voice filled with malicious anticipation.

"one... two..."

the constant banging on doors, shaking of doorknobs, and rummaging through cabinets echoed through the house as ghostface searched for you. each sound made your heart skip a beat, and you held your breath, hoping to remain undetected. the heavy thud of ghostface's boots against the floor reverberated through the room before fading away, only to return again as they continued their relentless pursuit. it felt like an endless, torturous game, until suddenly, silence engulfed the house.

"i-i think they're gone," you whispered into the phone, relief tinged with uncertainty evident in your voice as you spoke to the operator.

"is there a nearby exit? anywhere you could run to?" the woman on the other end asked, her voice filled with concern.

you responded with a quiet "yes," knowing that your back door was just around the corner.

quietly, you opened the top cabinet in your bathroom and retrieved a pair of scissors, holding them tightly as a makeshift weapon. you pressed your ear against the bathroom door, straining to hear any signs of ghostface's presence. their footsteps had become distant, as if they had moved to another part of the house. slowly, you pushed the door open, cringing at the subtle creaking it made, and cautiously peeked out. taking a deep breath, you mustered the courage to get up and began walking toward the back door, your eyes fixed on it and the window view it provided. but as you approached, something caught your eye— a reflection.

"three."

you felt a powerful, gloved hand wrap firmly around your waist, pulling you tight against their chest. a scream escaped your lips, swiftly stifled by a hand covering your mouth. desperate to break free, you fought with all your strength, but ghostface's grip was unyielding. the more you wriggled and struck out, the tighter they held you, pressing you closer against them.

summoning courage, you ruthlessly stomped on their foot, causing them to lose their balance. their back collided with the wall, granting you a momentary advantage. seizing the opportunity, you lunged forward, brandishing the scissors, aiming to strike them in the shoulder.

however, just as you were about to make contact, another hand clamped around your wrist, its grip unrelenting. "don't try that with me," a voice hissed. ghostface's grip on your wrists tightened, sending a painful sting coursing through your veins. they forcefully redirected your hand away from them, forcing your arm downward until you had no choice but to surrender. struggling to maintain your hold on the scissors, your resistance faltered.

you released a pained moan as your arm throbbed with tenderness. the ominous figure in the black cloak forcefully pushed you against the counter, causing your hand to involuntarily open upon impact, and your phone slipped from your grasp, clattering to the floor.

ghostface retrieved the phone, briefly glancing in your direction before focusing once again on the screen. "she's busy right now," they remarked coldly to the operator before hanging up.

with one hand, ghostface held the side of your tear-streaked face, while the other pressed the cold blade of the knife menacingly against your neck. fear coursed through your veins as you felt the sharp edge against your skin, the chilling reality of the situation sinking in.

"shhh now," ghostface commanded, their voice cutting through the air. their grip tightened, the blade digging dangerously into toward your flesh.

you sniffled, attempting to steady your racing heart. everything felt surreal, as if you had stepped into a distorted reality within the confines of your own home. the anticipation of impending chaos loomed, but the expected eruption never arrived. instead, an eerie silence settled over the scene, intensifying the disorientation.

a loud sob escaped your lips as you clung desperately to the edges of the counter, inadvertently cutting off circulation to your fingers. ghostface's hold tightened as they pulled back on the knife, the sharp blade now threateningly grazing your skin. their other hand covered your mouth, their grip unyielding. "just stay still. you don’t wanna do anything you might regret, right? now, say, 'i understand,'" ghostface uttered.

their gaze took in your terrified state as their grip gradually loosened and demeanor softened. ghostface's gloved hand tenderly wiped away a tear cascading down your flushed cheek.

"i-i understand,” repeating their words as your voice trembled.

their hands forcefully propelled you to the side, slamming you against the wall. through teary, half-lidded eyes, you gazed up at them as their imposing figure loomed over you.

their hand glided to the bottom of the ghostface mask, gripping the edge of the chin, and with a swift motion, they yanked it off and tossed it aside. cascading gracefully down to their shoulders was blonde hair, adorned with pink-dyed tips and one side partially shaved. their skin possessed an ethereal paleness, and their piercing blue eyes held a mysterious allure. a glint from the moonlight reflected off an eyebrow piercing, adding to their enigmatic visage.

and then it hit you. it was gwen stacy, your classmate.

the last person you would ever have expected. a smile played upon her lips, relishing in your bewildered expression. "gwen...?" you managed to utter, your voice barely a whisper. "-the hell?"

reaching into her cloak, gwen retrieved a voice changer box from her chest and raised it to her lips. "hello, (y/n). surprised?" she asked, a sly tilt to her smile.

"w-what..." you tried to speak, but the words eluded you.

"i know this is incredibly confusing and terrifying right now, but i promise i won't harm you," she assured, her thoughts seemingly racing.

gwen's smile grew, taking on a hint of obsession. "i've watched you for so long... you have no idea how much i've longed to be this close to you. you're such a beautiful girl," gwen confessed, her tone simultaneously tender and erratic. her hand still clutched the knife, and she tilted her head, regarding you with a disconcerting smile. the proximity between you two was impossible to ignore.

"please, just... just let me go, and we can forget all of this," you pleaded, desperation lacing your words.

gwen cocked her head to the side, furrowing her eyebrows. "why forget this? why would i want to forget a moment like this?" her gaze bore down upon you, her once vibrant blue eyes now tainted with a dark ink-like hue, consuming you with an unsettling hunger.

"why are you doing this, gwen?" you managed to ask, your voice trembling and breaking.

gwen shrugged, her shoulders slumping forward as if weakened by the mention of her own name. "fuck, i love the way you say it," she confessed, her tone laced with an unsettling fondness.

drawing closer, gwen closed the distance until your chests were pressed together. in a surprising turn of events, she flung the knife to the far side of the floor, the sound grating against your ears like nails on a chalkboard.

"don't you get it?" she stated matter-of-factly. "i like you. you're the kindest girl in school. honest, pretty, genuine. did i mention pretty? every time we talked, whether it was a small conversation in class or when you defended others from dumb gossip, you always showed such kindness. who wouldn't be drawn to a girl like that? that's why i did it."

your heart felt as though it had been submerged in acid. on one hand, her words melted your heart, evoking emotions you had never experienced with any boy before. however, simultaneously, a sense of violation and terror gnawed at you.

"what... what did you do?" you cautiously inquired, your voice faltering.

gwen reached down and intertwined her hands with yours, their grip tightening. "i killed your boyfriend," she confessed.

your head lowered as you shakily swallowed, the weight of her words sinking in.

"he wasn't right for you, (y/n). who cheats on their girlfriend with their own friends and pretends to care about them? you don't deserve that. you deserve so much more. you deserve everything. he never bothered to remember your favorite hobbies, your preferred makeup style, or even how you write the number five. he failed to appreciate everything you've been through or know how to comfort you, to make you feel good, to be a good boyfriend. if i had you, i would never treat you that way. especially after harry's party," she explained, her voice unwavering. "that night, i was dressed as a ghost because it seemed ironic, considering i'm the invisible loser of the school, right? that's when i saw randy with that girl and you running out crying. no one has the right to make you cry like that, especially not quarterback randy. so i went to confront him, told him how messed up it was. he pushed me, called me just another weirdo obsessed with you. maybe he was right, but the way he spoke of you, the words he used? i couldn't let it slide, (y/n). out of anger, i just threw my glass at his chest, i didn’t expect it to kill him. but it did."

your mouth hung open in shock and fear. gwen's grip on your hands tightened as she raised them higher until they rested at the sides of your head. your mind felt as if it were splitting in two, and your vision blurred. the onslaught of overwhelming information threatened to induce nausea, leaving you reeling.

“and god, did it feel so fucking good to kill him. if you told me all i had to do was get into a fight with your sigma male boyfriend who’s best friend's name is literally chad, just to get noticed by you, i would’ve done if in a heartbeat months ago,” she shouted, beginning to pace.

her eyes were wide, and you could tell just by her talking about it she wa reliving the thrill of the moment.

"i... i don't understand," you stammered, desperately trying to free your hands from gwen's grasp. she watched your movements intently, her eyes locked onto yours. "gwen, you fucking killed someone. why would you do that? do you realize the consequences of your actions?"

on one hand, you were furious that she had taken a life, but on the other, a part of you was unnerved by the intensity of the love she professed for you. it was as if, for the first time, someone truly appreciated your mere existence. you despised how drawn you felt to her, despite the circumstances.

"i don't care about him. i did it for you. i killed for you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "what man can say that?"

conflicting emotions tugged at your heart. ultimately, you yearned to surrender control and experience her twisted version of affection.

"no one has ever spoken to me like this, and even when they did, it never felt... like this," you confessed, your voice filled with a mix of fascination and uncertainty. "it feels... exhilarating."

gwen leaned closer, her eyes shining with a spark of light. "really? are you serious?"

your heart fluttered at her smile as she gazed into your soul. what was happening to you?

"this is a feeling i've never experienced before, even in past relationships. i don't know... you make me feel special, seen, and desired," you admitted, your voice laced with confusion. "i don't know what's happening to me right now."

gwen's gaze fixated on you, her once cocky smile softening into an expression of empathy. she broke the connection between your intertwined hands, slowly withdrawing one of her own. bringing her hand to her lips, she lightly bit the tip of her glove and sensually peeled it off, revealing her bare skin.

"i can't believe any of this is real," she muttered, her breath caressing your face. "can i kiss you?"

the question caught you off guard, amidst the whirlwind of emotions and confusion. your mind felt scrambled, making it difficult to think clearly.

"yes," you mumbled, your voice wavering with uncertainty, yet your eyes betraying an eager anticipation.

gwen's eyes lit up at your response. "perfect," she breathed before pressing her lips against yours.

your heart began to race, pounding fiercely within your chest. this was the last place you expected to find yourself, and you couldn't help but feel a jumble of confusion and conflicting emotions. "that’s it— just relax... everything will be fine," gwen whispered, her voice now soothing and strangely comforting, despite the circumstances.

you nodded, tentatively wrapping your arms around her shoulders and drawing her closer to you.

gwen leaned in even closer, her hands now tangling in your hair as her body pressed against yours. as she kissed you, your breath caught in your throat. it felt wrong, like you shouldn't be enjoying it. yet, you couldn't deny the undeniable sensation of pleasure that gwen's soft lips evoked.

a whimper escaped your lips as gwen reluctantly pulled away, expression tinged with sadness from the loss of contact. her eyes held a look of longing and desire as they locked with yours.

"that was even better than i imagined," she whispered, her voice hushed but audible in the close proximity.

"i... i think i liked it too," you managed to reply, your gaze averting to conceal the flustered state you were in.

it was true. in that moment, you were completely captivated by gwen like never before.

"i came all this way just to see your beautiful face," gwen commented, her hand firmly grasping your chin to turn your gaze back towards her.

as your eyes flickered between her piercing gaze and her inviting lips, a smile spread across gwen's face. without hesitation, she pulled you closer and kissed you once more. the taste of her lingered on your lips, tempting you to fully embrace the forbidden situation. you knew it was wrong, and yet... there was an inexplicable allure to gwen's soft kisses that made you reluctant to let go. confusion clouded your mind, even as your body responded to the intoxicating sensations. you found yourself not wanting the kiss to end.

a moan escaped your lips as gwen's wet tongue grazed your bottom lip, igniting a surge of desire. your grip on her shoulders tightened, your fingers clawing at her black cloak.

gwen released a soft moan of her own as her tongue gently explored the depths of your mouth. her hands trailed down your body, her touch growing more suggestive. "(y/n)..." she whispered seductively, her voice laced with desire.

once again, your body seemed to revel in the moment, despite the confusion plaguing your mind. her tongue slipped deeper into your mouth, eliciting a whimper of pleasure. the taste and sensation sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your entire being.

conflicted and seduced, you clung tightly to her cloak, yearning for her lips to remain fused with yours as your heart pounded relentlessly.

gwen continued to kiss you passionately, her tongue exploring the inner recesses of your mouth. her touch grew bolder, and your mind struggled to process the overwhelming sensations. it all felt so wrong, and yet your body responded eagerly to gwen's every move. the kiss felt irresistible, betraying the rationality of your thoughts.

your hands instinctively trailed up from her shoulders to the nape of her neck, lightly pulling at her hair for support. another moan escaped your lips, blending with hers, as gwen positioned her leg between your thighs, creating a tantalizing friction.

gwen's hand firmly gripped the back of your neck, pulling you even closer as her lips devoured yours. the tension and confusion intensified within your mind, but despite it all, the physical pleasure of being so intimately entwined with gwen tantalized your senses. the sensation of her body pressing against yours caused a subtle squirming response. you couldn't deny the pleasure that coursed through you, even as the situation felt inherently wrong.

for a fleeting moment, your lips disconnected, allowing you to lock eyes, but the magnetic pull between you drew you back in. you leaned in, kissing her again with a primal hunger, your hands gripping her in an instinctive and passionate manner.

you found yourself gasping for air, your breaths ragged and desperate as you tried to replenish the oxygen you had forgotten to take in during the prolonged, intense kiss.

gwen pulled back, her head tilted to the side, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips briefly before she wiped it away with her gloved hand, smearing it aside. her messy blonde hair framed her face, and you noticed her chest heaving up and down, mirroring your own heavy breathing.

nervously, she asked, "can... can i take you out on a date?"

a smile spread across your lips, unable to resist the pull of excitement. "i'd like that," you replied almost instantly, catching your breath.

suddenly, the blaring sound of police sirens echoed through the block, their blue and red lights reflecting through your window. it seemed, for once, the police had arrived promptly.

"way to ruin a fun time," gwen scoffed, annoyance evident on her face as she stepped back. "i think it's time for me to go."

despite the interruption, you couldn't help but be captivated by how attractive gwen looked in that moment. her hair was tousled, her lips plump and bright red from your passionate kisses, and her eyes held a smoky allure.

"police, open up!" a voice yelled from outside the door, the knocking growing more forceful.

you glanced over at the door, which shook violently from the pounding, the sound of the sirens threatening to drown out your senses. when you turned your attention back to gwen, she had already retrieved her mask, putting it on over her head and securely fastening it. she removed her glove, then picked up the knife from the floor.

"so, about that date, how about saturday?" she asked, a smile gracing her lips.

you couldn't help but match her mood, the excitement bubbling within you. "yeah, that works," you answered eagerly.

gwen fiddled with the voice box, adjusting it before placing it back into her costume. "i can't wait," ghostface remarked, the iconic voice returning.

before you could respond, she swiftly made her way to the back door, disappearing into the night just as the police burst through your front door.

as the police stormed into your residence, the chaos unfolded. you were momentarily overwhelmed by the commotion, the loud voices, and the flashing lights. the officers quickly apprehended you, their stern commands blending with the cacophony of sirens outside.

moments later, the scene shifted. you found yourself sitting in the back of an ambulance, surrounded by paramedics who were checking you over for any injuries. the blaring sirens had been replaced by a steady hum, providing a strange sense of calm amidst the chaos you had just experienced.

one of the paramedics, a kind-faced woman with a gentle demeanor, asked, "are you feeling alright? can you tell us if anything hurts?"

you took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the adrenaline coursing through your veins. "i... i think i'm okay," you replied, your voice shaky yet relieved. "just a bit shaken up."

the paramedic nodded understandingly, her gloved hands skillfully examining you for any signs of physical harm. after a thorough assessment, she reassured you, "physically, you seem to be alright. however, it's important to take care of yourself emotionally too. if you need someone to talk to, don't hesitate to reach out."

you offered a grateful smile, appreciating her empathy in the midst of the chaotic aftermath. "thank you," you said sincerely. "i'll keep that in mind."

“we already reached out to your guardian so they’ll be here soon, just rest up,” the woman stated before walking off.

as the paramedics finished their assessment and went to speak to the police for whatever further evaluation, your mind wandered back to the unexpected encounter with gwen.

something about this situation felt deeply unsettling. not only was gwen a killer, but her behavior had crossed the boundaries of normalcy into something much darker. the realization of her true nature sent chills down your spine, prompting a wave of revulsion.

however, you couldn't deny the conflicting emotions that had stirred within you during those fifteen minutes with gwen. for the first time in your life, someone has shown you such profound attention and affection, making you feel loved, appreciated, and even worshiped for simply being yourself. it was a heady mix of excitement and nervousness, emotions you had never experienced to this extent with any previous crush.

as you whispered the word "crush" to yourself, a sinking feeling settled in. you couldn't deny that you had allowed yourself to become entangled in a dangerous situation.

deep down, you knew that going through with the date was a sick and misguided decision. it went against your better judgment and morality. the allure of the attention and desire overshadowed your rationality, blinding you from the bright red flags waving in front of your face.

but you are your parents' daughter, so maybe you can fix her.

DO NOT STEAL, COPY, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK. ALL WRITING IS @PRIMAVIVA.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I was reading your tweel analyses posts and came across the little blurb of Floyd and Jade eating octopus in front of Azul and seemingly relishing in it because it might unsettle him and they're little shits. their fave foods having octopus in them makes sense since it's part of a diet of moray eels

here's a question I don't see many asking: does Azul eat octopus dishes? I think everyone is aware that octopus can (and do) cannibalize each other (even self-cannibalize) but he is still an octopus merman. do you think the animal based mers like the octatrio view the animals they share similarities with as a completely separate species from them and therefore not care when eating them? or is it sort of like a human and big ape thing, where it is highly uncomfortable and generally frowned upon?

[Referencing this post!]

I think Azul refrains from eating octopus himself! The reasoning being that… well, it’s really a gut feeling that’s informed by my observations of the Octatrio’s interactions.

If he looked annoyed watching the twins eat octopus, then that indicates he feels a certain way in that scenario—a discomfort or irritation which would then extend to his own dietary habits. If Azul did eat octopus, then why should he take issue with his peers doing the same? If both moray eels and octopus dine on octopus, why would he only be distressed in one scenario and not the other? Why would Jade and Floyd go out of their way to eat tons of octopus in front of Azul and bring up mentions of how delicious his merform is, if not to tease and unnerve him?

I do think that merpeople view non-sentient sea creatures they share traits with as separate beings in the food chain. This is why the twins can eat regular ol’ octopus without an issue. However, I also think that eating a creature that is of the same “type” as you (ie Azul and an octopus) is seen as morally wrong, as they too closely resemble the merpeople in question. This would be similar to how humans are fine with eating cow, pig, and chicken, but are far less willing to consume primates. It’s the “human” part of them—of us—our consciouses calling out to us and letting us know “hey, this is wrong”. The only thing I can really find to support this is how Jade says his least favorite food is a conger eel. (But his dialogue suggests he has tried it before and doesn't like the texture.) He and Floyd are morays, which is a different kind of eel... So does that imply that eating others is okay (ie other kinds of eels) so long as they aren't your exact species (morays for the twins)?

Merpeople may be part man and part fish, but I believe they are mainly human with additional fish traits and attributes; their thinking and behaviors are still very human, so I feel they share some similarities with humans in their moral and ethical codes.

The difficulty with half human/half animal fantasy races is that there will always be the debate of how much their animalistic side plays into their behaviors and how much of that can be overridden by their human side. For example, just because Leona is a lion beastman doesn’t mean he can’t eat vegetables, he just does not like them. This is in spite of lions being carnivores (ie exclusively dining on meat). We also see (or it is implied) many merfolk and beastmen eating food that would harm or kill their non-sentient counterparts (such as candy and chocolates during Halloween; you’d think they would otherwise express repulsion if offered what is basically poison to them). The “beastial” TWST characters in general don’t seem too strict on their food intake (specialized diets for athletes aside), so my guess is that their intakes lean more toward the omnivorous intakes of humans rather than the diet prescribed by the animals that are a part of them. After all… if Azul ate octopus, bro would be nomming on his own arm or something (since auto-cannibalism is a thing among octopus) 😭

Side note: Azul considers eating squid ink pasta in book 3. This is probably the closest we'll get to seeing him "eating octopus". Makes me think that it's acceptable to eat like... body parts and byproducts of other animals but not of the same species as you (ie chicken hearts vs human hearts).

Imagine walking in on that though????? I’d say, “Sorry to disturb you, sir! I’ll see myself out now,” then slowly shut the door and back away…

[0oolookitsme]

Feel Special Now?

Type - One-Shoty Blurb

Verse - Devil!Harry x (Vampire) Assassin!Y/n

Word Count - 1.5k

Warnings - Mentions of blood and knives.

A/n - The last Kinktober fic you guys! This one is giving less kinky and more halloween-y, but believe me they are being so horny lmao. Hope you enjoy <3

Kinks - Knife Play, Biting (as in drinking blood), Marking

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

The sun hadn't risen yet, but Y/n was up. Well, she was up all night, every night. But sometimes, she would just close her eyes and lay on Harry's side to pretend she was sleeping while he snored and sometimes mumbled things in his sleep.

But she hadn't laid beside Harry for as long as the darkness swallowed the sun that night. Instead, she got up the moment Harry's hand slipped from her waist and decided to clean and sharpen up her knives.

It was a bad habit she had, assassinating people and leaving her knives uncleaned. Harry often called her out for that, teasing that she wasn't someone whose hands were clean after all. Even when both of them knew that Harry's hands too, often seemed to be stained by blood.

Once she returned from washing all of her daggers, swords, and knives, she went straight to the room away from the one she shared with Harry in order to not wake him with the sound of her sharpening the blades.

Focusing on any change in Harry's heartbeat, Y/n sat down cross legged upon finding it beating in the same peaceful rhythm it does when he sleeps. She kept busy like that until an idea struck her mind out of the blue, causing her to leave her sharp objects out in the open out of excitement.

It was obvious that no one was going to dare and mess with them, but there were always exceptions.

Once she was inside the bedroom again, it struck her that she should check the time first – a smile creeping up on her mouth on noticing it was just about time for Harry to wake up.

So she crept closer and closer to his laying body, sitting beside his hips before lying down herself. She brought her hand that held the knife she'd just killed with two nights ago – and cleaned it just now – up in front of her.

She placed the cunning tip of the knife on Harry's temple, hovering it along the lows and highs of his cheek bone and cupid's bow. When she pressed the cool metal of the blade flat against his neck, Harry jerked awake – pining her on the mattress beside him in an instant.

He sighed a deep breath upon seeing her delighted face, kissing just above her upper lip in relief. "Could've killed y' right here," he spoke, removing his hold from her neck and laying flat on his back again.

Y/n laughed then, turning to face him with the knife still in her hand. "But you didn't," she grinned, tracing his jawline with the pointy-tip.

"Y' don't get to mess with the devil, pretty," Harry chuckled, letting her do her thing for a little longer.

Removing her knife, she herself got closer to whisper in his ear, "then who does?"

Harry opened his eyes to take her in for a second before he had her under him again. "No one," he also whispered in her ear, a smirk forming on his face when he felt her cheeks warm up under the graze of his lips.

"I should get that pass though, don't you think?" She said softly. "How else will I know I'm special?" Flaunting a faux pout on her lips, she pulled his leg.

Harry pressed a chaste kiss on her lips then, kissing her for a little longer than a peck. Then, he moved onto pressing his lips on the cold skin of her face – her temples, her forehead, her cheeks, nose, chin and finally a peck on her lips that had been stretched in a wide smile again.

"Well, i don't go around kissing every inch of just anyone's skin, do I now? Hm?" Harry asked her, lowering to nip the skin at the lock of her jaw.

"Don't hold anyone else close myself to keep them warm, don't let someone else draw my blood – does that not make it known that you are special to me, love?" Harry asked again, revelling at her silence and heavy breathing.

"Especially don't let anyone this close to me," he murmured, licking at the skin he had just bit.

Y/n laid there at a loss of words due to the close proximity between them, her breathing uneven as Harry continued marking her skin. Her back arched off of the bed when he undid the ties of her dress at the waist, letting the flimsy material slip down her skin and reveal her breasts to him.

"Don't touch anyone like this," Harry breathed, leaving open mouthed kisses across her chest before he took her hardened nipple in his mouth and sucked on it. He held her other breast, flicking its bud and twisting it gently.

"Never let anyone get away without burning into ashes by my touch," he whispered, shifting his attention on her other breast, snaking his arm around her waist.

She laid there, not listening to what he was saying, only focusing on his hot touch over her cold skin. She revelled at the feel of his lips kissing and biting her, leaving a mark on her skin everywhere his mouth went. Her hands slipped into his unruly hair, clutching the curls lightly.

A moan escaped her throat, making Harry chuckle. He shifted so he was face-to-face with her again, and tucked a fallen strand of her hair behind her ear. He softly asked her to open her eyes, brushing her cheekbone with his thumb.

Y/n's dazed gaze met with his, and saw a sight she swore wasn't real. He hovered above her – his skin glowing, pillowy lips plump and maroon, eyes so green and inviting that she almost jumped in.

"Feed," Harry told her as he tilted his head in a manner that gave her free access to his neck. He lowered his body on hers, moving closer to her mouth so that she couldn't resist herself.

Y/n had mastered the art of resisting blood, but it all came crashing down on her when it was Harry who was offering – especially after hightening her senses. It was a way in which he teased her, mocked her of her weakness that dawned on her when she even breathed the same sir as him.

She breathed in deeply, his skin almost brushing against nose as she resisted giving in. Her jaw hurt from how hard she was clenching her teeth, her nostrils flared and eyes shut. The scent of his blood was making her brain spiral – she was losing control over her own thoughts. Her hand pressed against the back of Harry's head, fisting his hair.

Opening her mouth, she inhaled deeply and almost lost her senses when the huge whiff of his scent entered her nose and hit her square in the chest, knocking her breath back out. Her jaw clicked as she bared her teeth out, tracing the soft skin of his neck until she found the vein that connected to one of the arteries leading straight out of his heart.

Veins grew prominent under the soft skin around her eyes, hints of redness leaking in the white of her eyes. She sunk her teeth slowly into his soft flesh, cutting through the layers of his skin until she grazed the artery.

Harry kept on brushing his thumb over the cold skin of her neck, breathing deeply as he felt the pleasurable sting of pain at the feeling of her sharp canines piercing his skin somberly. They were going to leave a mark, surely.

Once she finally grazed harshly enough, blood gushed into her mouth. The warmth of it quickly had her intoxicated as she sucked harder and harder. Her nose smushed against his skin as she tried tearing further, getting drunk on him – on his scent, his blood, the scent of his blood.

It all clogged her senses. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she tried to stop herself – yet, she was drawing up his blood so briskly that it had started trickling out of the corners of her mouth.

Feeling like she was going to drown in his blood, she hastened to pull out her teeth and detach her mouth from his skin. She heaved, out of breath and feeling as if she was smelling too much of him, drinking too much of him. He fogged her brain for a minute, before she blinked her eyes open again – her sight slowly focusing in on him.

Harry wasn't moving from atop of her, and anxiety immediately crawled up her back at the thought of having drunk too much of his blood.

She moved her hand to touch him, and sighed when she felt his skin was still warm. "H-harry?" She stuttered, moving her shoulder to stir him.

He started laughing then, his body shaking as his cackle only grew louder and more open-mouthed. He raised his head to look at her and pressed his open mouth against her cheek. "Sweet, sweet, Y/n," he breathed, a grin on his mouth.

"Did I frighten you, hm?" He cooed at her, grazing his teeth against her skin.

Sighing in great relief, Y/n hugged him closer to her. "You'll be the death of me."

"But I am, death; darling. And I am, verily yours," Harry smiled, pressing his lips against her cold lips. "Feel special now?"

[anika-ann]

Seven Minutes (S.R.) - pt.2

Type: TWO-SHOT, independent, canon-ish, part 1 here

Pairining: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 10 900 cause I have no chill

Summary:

You weren't obliged to go to that party, but you went anyway. You even had fun.

Until you and Steve were left to pick up the pieces after your seven minutes in a closet together, so graceful having been pushed into it by Tony's stupid idea, Loki's magic and a game of chance where there might be more losers than winners.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, NSFW, (unprotected sex, fingering, glimpses of size kink and praise kink, soft hints of D/s, mirrors, possessiveness;cumplay, overstimulation and edging if you squint really hard), alcohol, a drop of angst, language (a lot), STEVE (he is a warning in this one)

A/N: written for @jtargaryen18 and her Halloween challenge. Prompt in the final notes. I toyed with it so much that it might have been cheating 😅 dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕

Part 2: Seven Minutes in Heaven

“Secrets are the prisons we make for ourselves.”

― Joe Hill, Locke & Key, Vol. 6: Alpha & Omega

The party had died down; or as Tony said, only the fittest had survived.

Sam, Bucky and Rhodey had challenged Natasha, Maria and Helen to a lazy game of beer pong. Bruce was still asleep. Thor and Vision started some sort of a special game of pool, wordlessly watched by Wanda and Steve, while Thor and Loki argued in hushed voices about what only gods knew – literally. Tony got some genius idea despite – or thanks to – the killer levels of alcohol in his blood and sneaked off into the corner of the room, working with holograms of graphs and other simulations graciously supervised by Pepper.

Needless to say, the spacious room still looked every bit a warzone in an autumn aesthetic. And yet. It still looked better than your heart; a wasteland.

You avoided Steve ever since you stumbled out of the stupid closet, from which he oh-so-kindly helped you, supporting your weight before you could faceplant on the floor – and he graced you with a sweet even if a little shaky smile as he did so. God, you hated him for it. You hated you could still feel the heat of his skin, taste his breath on yours, an echo of the reality of the closet; what more, the memory of his skin on your bare body, lips mapping every inch of you, teasing touches and thick fingers, dark gaze as he made you his in every way possible… this memory of your fantasy was somehow fading, as if it wasn’t even yours.

And it wasn’t; because Steve himself was never yours to have. Fantasies like these were futile.

The loneliness in your chest despite being surrounded by friends hit you harder than ever; and you should have known better. You could blame Loki and Tony and Steve, even yourself for your past shortcomings, but the trigger for your mood was all on you. You shouldn’t have been drinking. You knew you often toed the thin line between a cheery drunk and a miserable drunk. Tonight, it seemed you very much tripped and stepped over the line by a mile.

You nursed a bowl of candy, staring at the repetitive sequence of scary images projected on the wall. The only person you’d be willing to join was Tony; but the reasonable thing to do would be retreat to your room and sleep it off. You even felt sleepy; except your brain was wide awake at the same time. Body exhausted, brain hazy but alert, eyes burning with tears born not only from your loneliness, but also from being awake for too long. You were never going to another of Tony’s stupid parties ever again. You’d promise to never drink again, but your job sometimes required dumbing your mind in a way therapy never could.

The skeletons on the wall blended into a graveyard again; the image was almost soothing. Peaceful. A pile of bones that couldn’t hurt anymore a blessing. And you really should go to sleep, because your thoughts were getting morb-

The yelp erupting from your throat was pitiful – but thankfully drowned in the hooting from the beer pong table. You nearly jumped out of your skin as you found Loki suddenly sitting next to you on the couch, the corners of his lips now twitching in amusement.

Jesus.

“Don’t sneak up on me!” you complained, your body suddenly very awake too. Jerk. “Jesus, Loki!”

“I believe you Midgardians say that if one becomes easily startled, it is because they have impure thoughts or intentions,” he hummed, but had enough decency to control his smirk a bit. Still a jerk. “What is it, søster? You appear upset.”

Anger and humiliation flared up in your achy chest since it was him of all people pointing that out. As if it wasn’t his stupid magic that created the closet in the first place, feeding your misery further. You shot him a glare.

“And you are to blame. Piss off, Loki.”

He retreated a bit, showing off his bare hands as to tell you he meant to harm, a slight pout to his lips.

“Now now. There is no need to get hostile, is it? I simply noticed you were… rather isolated and the party did not please you anymore, nor did the company. I came here as a concerned friend.”

You sighed, eyes roaming his face; he appeared genuine. He might be a god of mischief, but he had proven a friend on numerous occasions indeed. An annoying sibling, if you willed; there was a reason why he called you a sister.

“Don’t you always…” you murmured, sighing again and working hard to try and smile. “Sorry, bror, I am not in a festive mood nor in a friendly indeed. You do not indeed deserve my hostility… much.”

His eyes flashed with understanding, a smile spreading on his lips as he tilted his head, inquisitive.

“Has something happened during the seven minutes with your precious Captain?”

To protest was an instinct at this point. “He isn’t m-“

“Yes, he is, but that is not the point,” Loki interrupted you, rolling his eyes theatrically before his gaze bored into yours, the blue of his eyes almost burning. “What did you see, søster?”

It hit you like a train – the realization that should have hit you long moments ago. God, you were an idiot. Such an idiot, trusting, naïve, too good-hearted idiot, who-

You slapped Loki’s bicep hard – or tried to, your hand passing through the illusion of his body he had created, your hand only meeting the cushions. Of fucking course; he wasn’t even here. He was a trickster, after all. Case on damn fucking point-

Your face burned almost as much as the tears of anger in your eyes – anger and embarrassment. God, he hadn’t- he couldn’t have possibly--- had he seen?

“You did do something to the closet, didn’t you? I defended you when Steve suggested it, you know! Did you make up the damn illusion I saw? You fu-“

Loki’s hand, materializing as his whole body now, caught your hand when you tried to hit him again, his long fingers gentle as they wrapped around your wrist. If you had any more energy, you’d fight his hold and send him to the floor in one of the fancy moves Natasha had taught you. But you didn’t; too weak. To stunned.

The asshole.

“I did not make up any illusion nor did I see what you saw, my little Midgardian,” Loki responded calmly, for once appearing sincere – and unless you imagined it, there was a shade of regret in his expression too.

He’d better be telling the truth about not seeing at least – but how could believe a word he said? He tricked you. Like a trickster. Gods, you needed to retake your IQ test if he had got you so easily.

“I simply offered clarity to everyone who walked into that closet… incidentally, it was only you and him,” he added.

“Clarity?” you echoed, an unamused erupting from your throat as you yanked your hand free. “I don’t think so, Loki. Whatever it is you did was a damn low blow. So do take it personal when I tell you to piss off – wherever your actual body actually is--- or one of your bodies or whatever.”

You rose to your feet, determined to leave him – and this whole cursed party – behind and sleep for a week.

He caught your hand again, stopping you; you shot him a murderous glare, gritting your teeth as you failed to keep your tears at bay, a few rolling down your cheeks – a mix of of humiliation, anger and bewilderment, because were you really crying? Christ, you were never drinking again.

Loki’s gaze softened at the pitiful sight you had to make; he gently tugged at your hand, so watching you so kindly and pleadingly that he might have as well tugged directly at your heartstrings.

Gods, why did you have such a glutton for punishment and pain? Why were you such a sucker for redemption? Why were you so weak to give people and gods the chance to apologize just so they could feel better about themselves?

You sat down with another sigh, willing to give Loki one more minute to explain himself and say sorry – but not more. You blinked in surprise when he frowned, slowly raised his free hand, his fingertips brushing the tears from your cheeks away.

“I am sorry to upset you,søster. But you should slow down in jumping to conclusions,” he said, making you already regret your decision; he wasn’t apologizing. Of course he wasn’t. Men. You wrenched your hand free again. You were out of here this very- “Ah-ah. Here it is again. I am sorry. But… what is that figurative expression you Midgardians have? Say, what do you hide in a closet, søster?”

Clothes, usually, you thought, annoyed. Clothes, unless it’s empty and you’re lucid-dreaming about enthusiastically getting railed by one of your closest friends. You had a distant feeling this was not the answer the trickster was looking for.

“Loki, I’m tired, drunk and miserable,” you said matter-of-factly. “I really don’t want to play any more of your games and I think you had done enough, so I’d appreciate if you-”

“Skeletons, søster. Secrets,” he whispered conspiratorially, a slow smirk spreading on his face. “Dark, dark secrets you do not share with anyone else, those you do not dare to share. In that closet… the darkest one concerning the person you were in there with came out.”

Your shoulders sagged, annoyance biting at your gut. Loki was saying these things as if he just revealed to you the secrets of the universe and not a well-known fact.

“Gee, thanks. I knew about that ‘secret’ already.”

Loki’s right eyebrow arched as he smiled deviously.

“Did you, now? Did you know your Captain’s best-kept secret?” he pried, eyes sparkling with the mischief worthy of the god he was, confusing you in the process.

You were too lost to his mysterious message to correct him again – that Steve was not yours. Loki knew and apparently, he knew that that was exactly part of the problem. Hell, that was the whole problem at the moment, but-

“Huh?”

Loki’s other brow arched as well at the bewildered sound you let out, his gaze measuring you from head to toe with distaste almost as if you insulted him by not praising him for his supposed brilliance.

You didn’t feel bad for it – you had no energy for that. And his ego could use a little blow.

“…you truly are exceptionally drunk if you get slow like this, my dear Lady Speedy,”he emphasized, shaking his head like a disappointed parent – or older brother. “You did not see your secret. What kind of lousy trick would that be?! You already know your secrets, they are in your head! That is why they are yours! No, no, no,” he lamented, shaking his index finger before he pointed it at you, his proud grin widening. “You, my little Midgardian søster, stepped into the Captain’s head. You saw his secret. And he saw yours. Do we understand now?”

All blood drained from your face, annoyance replaced by a mask of pure horror that seized you the moment Loki finally explained. You stared at him blankly, mind suddenly completely sober and whirling. You were fucked. You were utterly, utterly fucked, because if Steve saw your secret, he knew. He knew you wanted him; he knew how you wanted him and how much. He knew what you craved him to do to you.

“Loki, this isn’t funny,” you heard yourself say, almost soundlessly. He tilted his head, that irritating grin still present as he looked right back at you, waiting for you to process the bullshit he was trying to feed you. “This is a very, very bad joke.”

Please tell me it IS a joke, you added mentally, only to be very disappointed.

“That it would be, but it is not, for I am not joking,” he retorted, expectant.

Expectant of what? Of praise? A thank you? For putting you into this insanely vulnerable position, for basically stripping you bare and revealing—

Your mind came to a screeching halt as another realization finally slammed into you like a freight train.

“Holy shit.”

Loki straightened in his seat, his grin now almost maniacal – and so goddamn smug.

You saw Steve’s secret. You saw Steve’s fantasy. Taking you over and over in front of a mirror, all the praise, sweet nicknames and affection he showered you with in your vision – that was him. He wanted you too. These weren’t only your desires, these were his.

But that was impossible. Steve didn’t--- he wasn’t- he would have said something. He would have acted differently. You would have known. This, whatever Loki was saying, couldn’t be true, Steve would have asked you out again if he wanted to, he’d-

Except he wouldn’t. Because unlike many men, Steve understood the meaning of the word no. If you rejected his initial advance two years ago, he had no reason to try again, because he would respect your choice.

You could kiss him for that. Or smack him. It that were true.

The hope rising in your chest was a dangerous thing. Hope was the thing with feathers; it would fly you high so the fall lasted longer and the landing hurt more once it dropped you out of the sky. If you allowed yourself to hope that the absolutely wonderful gorgeous human being Steve was was still interested in you romantically…

Instinctively, you glanced the direction of the pool table, hoping to see a hint of Loki telling the truth – and worried Steve might hear your conversation due to his enhanced senses – but Steve was no longer there. Swiftly scanning the room, you found out he was no longer there at all. It seemed he was the only one having made the sane decision of going to sleep.

You gulped as your gaze focused the trickster again, still afraid to believe even for a minute this could be real.

“Loki…”

“Now. You know his and he knows yours… the question is, are you willing to act on it? Are you willing to admit what is it that you want out loud now when he already knows anyway… even if he does not, for I entrusted the power of the closet only to you so far?”

You swallowed loudly, heart hammering in your chest wild. Were you? Willing to admit it out loud? That was one insane risk to take. One you weren’t sure was worth the consequences.

“Loki, if you are lying-“

“Bleh, I am not!” the Asgardian spitted out, offended. “What could I possibly gain from that?!”

“Fun?” you suggested automatically, because that was what he was all about, wasn’t it? That was why he created the insane magical closet in the first place.

Could Steve really still like you? Like like you? Now you were back to being thirteen indeed-

“Your idea of my idea of fun is rather strange. Go talk to your Captain. Or… communicate your thoughts in whichever way you prefer.”

You felt your already hot face burn at his suggestion. As much as you’d like to do that, the thought of even confronting Steve was scary – it would be much easier to be sure you wouldn’t mess up your perfectly good friendship, a friendship you cherished. Alas, you only had Loki’s words to go on. You could imagine more reliable sources, but none of them you’d dare to approach either.

“Oh shut your face, bror. If this is another idiotic prank, if you are lying, I’m going to tell Bruce to smash you—no, I’m going smash you myself, reduce you to the size of atom. Without breaking a sweat,” you promised him as you rose to your feet and you meant it.

If you were going to find Steve now – and you were, because there was not a universe in which you would simply fall sleep after what Loki did and told you – and if you were going to mess up, if Loki was truly just toying with your heart, you’d make sure he’d suffer for it.

“So feisty,”Loki praised, eyes lit up. “The Captain will like that, I am certain.”

Oh you were sure he would; Steve liked a drive in a person. He’d like it if you were brave enough not only to find him now, but also tell him how you felt. The idea was so damn intangible even as you had thought of it thousands of times, so terrifying that you just might go to bed and stare at the ceiling for the rest of the night instead because you could not take that risk.

“Loki… this is a personal thing. And if I go and fuck up what Steve and I have-”

“You mean two years of fruitless pining-“ he interrupted you again.

“-based on your bullshit, I---”

You felt tears in your eyes again – and god, you were truly never ever drinking again, even as you felt very, very sober now – and the God’s mischievous eyes softened once more.

“I shall never repeat it again, but I grew quite fond of you, my little Midgardian. Despite what the over-righteous Captain believes, I have no intention to hurt you,” he assured you kindly.

“…I will still smite you if you’re wrong.”

His grin returned. “Looking forward to it, my Lady Speedy. And you’re welcome!”

“Don’t push it, Loki.”

As expected, your brief surge of bravery ran out by the time you stood in front of Steve’s door. Your hand shook as you raised it to knock, counting to three. Then, you simply did it – better to get it over with, right? With what you learned from Loki, awkwardness was about sneak between you and Steve anyway. At least you would know.

That wasn’t a terrifying thought as all, was it?

Steve appeared in the doorway, already in pyjama pants and a white t-shirt, looking at you as if he wasn’t sure whether he dreamed you up or not. His special nickname for you slipped from his lips, surprised and questioning.

You felt like an idiot; you probably looked like one too, your outfit in a pitiful state as well as your make-up, but here you were about to have one of the most important conversations in your life. An agent for the Avengers Initiative, supposedly one of the strongest and most capable people of the planet; yet, you felt like a teenager about to confess to your first-ever crush.

“Can I… can I come in?” you pipped up nervously, wondering whether your heart could actually jump out of your chest – and guessing that yes, it could, when Steve smiled automatically, stepping back to let you into his room.

“Are you alright?”

No, you wanted to say, your sweaty palms twitching to curl into fists briefly, because of course he would ask that. Beautiful, infinitely good man. Sweet and caring. Golden boy. Golden boy who wanted to fuck you in front of the mirror and watch.

You shook off the last thought as your stomach fluttered, coming to a stop in the middle of the room, trying to ignore the large inviting bed and spinning on your heels to face Steve instead.

“Yeah. No. I mean,” you stuttered, shaking your head. “I… Loki, he--- he said something.”

There was no mistaking the flash of cold steel in Steve’s eyes, the way his relaxed body straightened and stiffened, shoulders squaring at the mention of the God. He really didn’t like him, did he? After the emotional turmoil of tonight, you couldn’t say you blamed him.

“What did he say?”

“He said… you--- this is so stupid, I can’t even--- did you have, uhm, did you have a certain… vision? A dream maybe? When we were in that closet?”

Your face was set aflame at believing he had, that he had the kind of vision you assumed; a vision that would make most people blush. And Steve did blush a bit, discomfort clear in his face.

“I--- maybe,” he admitted reluctantly, earning a raised brow. He closed his eyes and sighed. “Yes. Did Loki…” His gaze found yours again, searching – and worried. There was something in his expression you couldn’t quite decipher too, something you weren’t sure if you wanted to understand. “Did he tell you--?”

You shook your head.

“No. If you’re asking whether he told me what you dreamed about, then no.” Because he didn’t have to. I just know. If Loki wasn’t lying, that was. “But I… I had a vision as well. And Loki, he… told me what it meant. He said--- he said-“

You gulped, a dull weight in your chest as Steve observed you with silent wonder and a mixture of emotions you couldn’t hope to understand. Patience. Concern. Apprehension. Affection? Definitely confusion.

This was absurd. What were you even doing here? It was utter non-sense. Loki was just pulling your leg, that was what he did, a friend or a bror or not, he just decided to have some extra fun during Halloween and make it his personal April Fool’s Day. You were but the victim of his over-the-board prank-

You chuckled at your idiocy, shaking your head and stalking to the door.

“You know what? Forget this. This is so stupid, I can’t believe I fell for that-“

A gentle hand, the gentlest touch, stopped you in your tracks, disappearing as quick as it appeared on your wrist.

Reluctantly, you turned back to Steve again, truly loving him and hating him at the same time when his tone softened as if you hadn’t brought up Loki, his personal thorn in side, at all.

“Hey now. This, whatever it is, is clearly making you upset. Upset enough to knock on my door at three a.m.,” he noted, hand twitching towards you again – but not touching.

That was what he would have normally done – comfort you by touch. A warm hand on yours; the warmest hug. Touch was Steve’s love language for friends and no doubt lovers alike. But he didn’t. Because you had said no – you had pushed him anyway, you had pulled back in the closet. You had broken him; you had broken you two already.

Damn Loki and damn his stupid jokes and painfully unhelpful interventions. You already hurt Steve and now you were here, at three damn a.m. indeed, robbing him off his well-deserved sleep on top of everything.

God, what a farce.

“I’m sorry-“

“That’s not the point, you know the door is always open for you,” Steve interrupted you, eyes roaming your face with determination now. He was on a mission. He had noticed your body language, whatever it was trying to say. He noticed your hesitance. He read you like a book and he was going to read it through to the last chapter to get to the bottom of things. You were in trouble; there was no going back now. “What did Loki say? I saw you two earlier, he--- did he make you upset?”

Your heart seared, your lips parting on instinct.

While spoken on a normal volume, the question was a battle cry. If you said yes, Steve would release the wrath of Gods – of an angel, a guardian angel and a warrior – on Loki. It didn’t matter Loki was the god, the entity from another planet. He would tremble in front of the anger of a righteous man defending you.

“No! I mean--- no. He just…” you stumbled over your words again, shaking your head and taking a deep breath. You closed your eyes, because otherwise you’d never get it out, not with the way your throat felt so tight you could barely breathe, let alone speak the bare truth. “He said that what we saw in that closet was each other’s secret. Something we secretly want. Supposedly, I saw yours… and you… you saw mine.”

Your voice trailed off into a shy whisper, but you had no doubt Steve heard your words clear as day. The silent shock settling on the room told you as much. Hands curling into fists, nails digging into your palms, you squeezed your eyes shut tight, before you gathered enough courage to open them and look at Steve’s reaction.

But Steve wasn’t looking at you, much to your relief and frustration. He was staring over your shoulder, the smile on his lips absent, appearing just a little broken. You dug your nails further into your skin, not daring to even breathe in until Steve released a wavering breath of his own.

His voice was quiet as he spoke, so very soft and warm, a note of gentle wistfulness. “I’m not sure I can believe that, Shines.”

You nodded, licking your lips and bracing yourself. Now or never. No take-backs.

“I’m not sure either… but that depends. What do you want, Steve?”

“I…” he sighed, finally meeting your gaze, an unreadable open book. He observed you carefully for a moment as you tried to stand tall, stand your ground and pretend you didn’t feel like it was shaking under your feet. Like you wouldn’t feel like the Earth was splitting beneath you if his answer would be anything else than you were hoping for. “I want you, Shines. But I don’t see how that’s a secret.”

Fresh tears sprang from your eyes; but this time happy ones, the shock and relief and joy finding release.

You had hoped. You had prayed on your way in here. You wished upon the stars. And yet nothing prepared you for the reality of Steve saying this. You were certain your heart was about to explode any second, your pulse thundering in your head. He really said ‘you’.

A small part of you wanted to remark that if Loki was right about everything and you had indeed saw what was in Steve’s head, there were a few secretive details that Steve had failed to mention, but you kept your mouth shut, because that was not the point.

He wanted you. He truly wanted you. He still… you still had a chance. More than a chance, apparently.

“Oh,” you let out quietly and oh so wittily, probably making your IQ scores appear like a joke again, but this time, you didn’t give a damn. You smiled weakly at Steve who stared at you expectantly and resigned at once. “Good. Because I want you too.”

A single deep breath. Eyes full of wonder, soft confusion lacing his voice. Reluctant hope, as reluctant as your own had been. “But you said no.”

You nodded, lowering your gaze and smiling tightly on the floor as you wiped away the few tears.

“I--- I was still new and you were… you were this idol of all things good, intimidating and untouchable. I mean, in many ways, you still are, but I was just crushing on you so hard even if I barely just met you. The longer I knew you, the more it… changed into something much deeper than a crush, but when you asked me out back then, I just… panicked. And I wanted to take that answer back later, but I was scared it was too late. And the longer it got… the harder and more awkward it felt to ask you if you were still interested in me, if you’d want to be more than friends after all this time, especially since you dated someone else in between.”

A few beats of silence followed your confession, words hanging in the air.

“That was never a good idea,” Steve admitted lowly, causing you to look up to his now sheepish face. “I thought I was ready for someone else, but I wasn’t. My mind was still on you. And still is, which really shouldn��t come as a surprise to you or me,” he noted, lips curling up in a smile that would make your heart beat faster hadn’t it been already racing like mad. “You’re beautiful and brilliant. You could do anything you’d put your mind to and would still stay humble enough about it. You’re capable, you’re passionate, you’re kind. You make the world a better place… and you take my breath away. You always have.”

You stood frozen, momentarily stunned.

It seemed when Steve went for something, he went all the way. You knew that about him already; and still. His declaration took you by surprise. A pleasant one, much like two years ago; but this time, you knew better. You were ready. Or at least ready enough.

At three a.m. after a damn Halloween party, you were ready to accept you and him felt the same.Steve liked you. Liked you a lot more than a friend, if his words were sincere and you would never doubt they were anything less.

The world was a beautiful place and you adored Loki’s shenanigans.

“Well…” you said as you stepped closer, basking in Steve’s soft gaze set firmly on your face, hopeful and incredulous. “I think you are pretty damn brilliant, handsome and overall amazing too, so that works out well… and I guess maybe we should do something about that.”

“I guess,” he echoed, his smile slowly widening when you took another step. He reached out this time and took your hand, enveloping it in his larger one.

It was just holding hands, it should not have such an effect on you, but Christ, you could die a happy woman right there. Especially when Steve carefully lifted your joined hands, dropping a kiss to your knuckles, eyes never leaving yours. When you smiled wide at the tender gesture, Steve’s gaze lit up with a familiar and yet so different spark. “You think I’m intimidating?”

A surprised chuckle erupted from your throat, the tension you hadn’t been quite aware of melting from your shoulders. You could smack him – now he was a cheeky fella, wasn’t he?

“That’s what you took from me pouring my heart out? Really, Steve? Wow. Just wow.”

He laughed as well as he erased the last distance between you so you stood chest to chest, hand moving to cradle your face instead and angle it up, his eyes full of wonder still as if he couldn’t believe this was happening. Humour and absolute delight blended into one in his expression; you imagined yours most have looked the same.

“Well, I kinda poured mine out too to make it even. But I’m just a guy, doll. My ego needs a good rub every once in a while.”

You couldn’t help it. You snickered at his choice of words. A good rub, huh?

“Just your ego?”

Something flashed in Steve’s eyes, his smile earning a wicked edge that had your stomach flutter; or perhaps that was just his strong arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush to his front, your palms catching against his chest. So warm. Warm and wide and real, and it was yours to touch.

“Aren’t you a cheeky little thing…” he mused.

“You know it. What you’re gonna do about it, Captain?”

His gaze roamed your face, searching for an answer to the unspoken and yet completely clear question. He found it in the challenge written in your smartass grin, his lips soon gravitating towards yours, suddenly close enough you could feel his breath on your own. His voice dropped but to a whisper.

“Depends… what would you let me do, Shines?”

Anything. Everything. All at once. Forever.

You licked your lips, painfully aware of the firmness of Steve’s body against yours, so pliant to accommodate his strength. “I’m pretty flexible.”

The corners of his lips twitched at the double entendre.

“Is that right, sweetheart? Let’s see how you like what have in mind then…”

A lot. The answer was a lot. You loved it the very second his lips touched yours at last, causing you to shudder and melt into his embrace. The kiss was even more tender than you imagined; gentle lips moulding into yours, thumb stroking over your cheekbone softer than silk. Lingering and brushing yours even as he released you to do something as mundane as breathing.

“I like it so far,” you muttered, eyes closed to absorb all the sensations enveloping you. The warmth, the masculine scent, the faint taste of mint tooth paste and Steve, the thundering heart under your palms, the hot skin as your hand slid up Steve’s throat to his nape, the soft strands of his hair as you pulled him to another kiss. “What else do you have in mind?”

He hummed against your lips, smiling, hand angling your head to kiss you deeper, parting your lips with ease, so naturally as if it was always meant to be. And perhaps it was; kissing him was two years due. The thought of a lost time had your fingers flex against the material of his t-shirt, squeezing his nape; his chest rumbled with a silent groan, arm tightening around your waist, heat pooling at your stomach.

You knew this groan. You knew the feeling of hardness building against your belly and you knew exactly what it meant; and you wanted it. You wanted it real this time and there nothing in the world that would make you resist Steve inching you walk backwards one small step after another as his mouth dominated yours, his hand moving to your hip to steer you the direction of the bed.

Or you thought so until his arm softened the impact of your back against a wall, your eyes snapping open with a gasp. Your gaze met Steve’s just as his fingers tangled in your hair, eyes roaming your face attentively, taking in every detail of your flushed face and already swollen lips. You feasted your eyes too, hand instinctively moving from his chest to his bicep, nearly whining at feeling the power humming underneath.

He could take you. He could take you in whichever way he wanted and you’d simply have to hold on and survive it, because even with your fancy moves and normally sharp brain, you were no match for his strength. But you didn’t need to be; you didn’t want to be. You were actually perfectly fine with Steve making love to you tender or fucking you against the wall all the way across the room from the no doubt comfortable bed.

“What else is there?” you heard yourself ask breathily, rewarded with Steve’s gaze darkening, his hips pressing against yours, palm sliding from your cheek to your throat, thumb caressing the soft skin.

He was trying to kill you. He was, there was no other reason to show off those large paws of his in comparison to your body, no reason to remind you he could crush you without much effort.

He petted the sensitive skin lovingly, licking his lips as another shudder ran down your spine, his middle finger inching under the shoulder strap of your dress.

“Can I?”

You only panted as he already hooked his finger under it and sent it sliding down while still being able to touch your throat, the hoarseness of his voice awaking the heat inside you having been sleeping ever since your dream encounter in the closet.

“Y-yes,” you whispered, hoping he’d understand that that consent applied to everything. Everything he wanted he was free to do. You needed him to do it.

He must have understood. He must have, because when his lips locked with yours, the heat behind the kiss was otherworldly, his body caging yours against the wall in the most toe-curling way.

It was like a switch flipped inside him, because it finally dawned to him. He had seen you fantasy; the filth he had experienced came from you and he could take full advantage of that. That previously frightening thought that Steve knew now, knew how you wanted him and how much, was apparently exactly what he needed to see; that you wanted him. All of him. No filter.

You mewled when his fingers tugged at your hair with the slightest pressure, guiding you to expose the column of your throat for his mouth to explore and nip at, his other hand squeezing your hips and following the curve of your ass appreciatively. Your already damp panties turned completely useless by now and in the very back of your mind, you realized that with Steve’s slightly enhanced senses, he could probably smell how riled up you still were from your imaginary closet experience. You could be embarrassed about that; but when his hand brushed up the back of your bare thigh over your hip under the hem of your dress, stroking over the lace of your panties at the apex of your thighs, you decided you were beyond caring.

Especially when you could feel his muscled shift with the minuscule movement of his fingers tracing the hem of your underwear, so close to where your core screamed for his touch and attention.

“So, doll…” he whispered to your skin, groaning minutely when you grabbed at his nape and pulled his mouth to ours, feeling it was way too long since you tasted them. He didn’t seem bothered at all, his fingertips brushing oh so lightly against your heat at last, a barely-there brief touch gone too fast. “I saw your dirty secret, is that right?”

Alright, he needed to stop talking and teasing you and get to work before you could spontaneously combust. Your only satisfaction was the fact that he too was far from indifferent to what was happening, his hardness pressing against your thigh.

So why wasn’t he doing something about it?

“Doll?” he hummed against your lips, expecting you to answer, clearly.

“Y-yeah? I guess?”

“Hm…”

You cried a discontent noise when his hands untangled from your hair and disappeared form under the skirt of your dress, long fingers curling around your wrist, one and then the other, soothing your disagreement with a filthy kiss.

Next thing you knew, your hands were pinned to the wall by your head, carefully, but firmly, Steve’s body pressing against the rest of you; his lips released yours just in time for you to let out a gasp as startled as pleased.

Your heart turned into one of a hummingbird when you realized your predicament fully.

Trapped against the wall by Steve’s large body towering above you, hands locked in a grip unmoveable upon you testing it. Caged. Utterly helpless. Dominated. The surge of need into your belly was so acute your brain turned into a blank screen with static noise for a moment.

Steve was playing out your fantasy. He was replaying what he must have seen. He was giving you exactly what you wanted and you were not about to protest; less so when your heart felt like giving out when his teeth grazed your pulse point, your knees bucking a bit, a silent mewl escaping you and that loveable bastard smiled with absolute glee against your skin.

“Love the sounds you’re making, doll. Love how your body responds to me.”

“You’re playing dirty,” you whined, not quite complaining, but still causing Steve to look up. The glee you had assumed was most definitely in his smirk and hungry gaze.

You swallowed loudly, gaze trailing up his bulging bicep when his hands manipulated yours above your head, one hand easily gripping both of yours.

“You want me to stop?” he asked, long fingers running over your bare arm indulgingly slow, over the swell of your breast, over your waist, until they slipped under your skirt again, following the hem of your panties to the junction of your thighs and pushed it aside at last, feeling the pool of slick in your underwear. His voice grew huskier as he spoke again. “Fuck. Doesn’t feel like it.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I won’t,” he promised, latching onto your mouth as his thick finger slipped into your heat at last, causing you to moan at the blissful intrusion.

He pumped his finger a few times before he added another, the soft stretch sending hot pleasure through your veins, having you chase the feeling in the limited space he made for his hand between your bodies, trying to rock into his hand as he set a maddeningly slow pace.

“Steve, ple-ase-”

The plea melted into a gasp when he curled his fingers, finding your most sensitive spot, your hips jerking forward as the ripple of pleasure he elicited.

“There she is…” he murmured smugly, swallowing your noise of complaint when he pulled his fingers out right then, spreading your slick all over your lower lips and circled your clit only to neglect it right after.

Empty and strung tight at once, you tried to move and chase the much-needed friction, only for Steve’s hips to pin you in place again, palm spawled over your ass.

You wanted to shoot him the dirtiest look for denying you, but all you managed was a soft accusation in your hooded eyes as his still wet fingers tipped your chin up, his intent gaze dark and hungry.

“God, you’re perfect, doll,” he rasped, thumb brushing over your swollen lips. “You have no idea how beautiful you look right now.”

You had no time to be embarrassed; not when the words from your dream echoed in your head – except it was not a dream. This was all Steve – his fantasy, his reality too. He liked to watch. He liked to tell you were beautiful. He clearly liked your fantasy too – to have you in his arms, at his mercy.

You wanted to pull him for another kiss, to guide his hand – his cock for god’s sake – where you needed him so much you could barely stand it at this point, but the thrill of the not being able to, not being allowed to, felt almost as good. He was breathing heavy too, yes, but otherwise, holding you down posed no challenge for him, not even with one hand, the other sprawling over your hip again. Your core clenched at the casual display strength, a tiny noise escaping you against your will.

And bless that it did. Steve’s fuck it was the most beautiful song you had ever heard, because it was the sound of breaking.

So fast he battled the speed of light, his hand was back, tearing away the soaked fabric of your panties, mouth stealing the blissful moan from your lips, body letting just an inch of space for you to arch into his touch when his fingers slid right back into your heat, pumping and assaulting your g-spot, this time with his thumb pressing against your clit. Small rhythmic circles, dextrous fingers filling you up over and over and he had you chanting his name as you clenched on his fingers hard, warm release overtaking your body, muscles spasming, your vision blurring for a moment.

And Steve didn’t stop. The back of your head hit the wall with a silent protest as his fingers continued to fill you over and over again, mouth latched onto your neck and sucking a bruise, grasp on your hands firm and you struggled against the hold no longer sure if you wanted to stop him or keep his hand exactly where it was, because despite the overwhelming sensation and overstimulation, your body screamed at you to take it and enjoy the flames licking at your insides, so painfully delicious.

You clamped on his fingers again with a wordless cry, gasping for air as your eyes snapped open, meeting Steve’s impossibly blown pupils drinking in the sight of you overtaken by utter bliss. The wet squelch filling the room was pure filth as you soaked his hand, but you had no capacity to feel ashamed, you body buzzing with adrenalin and white-hot pleasure, Steve’s gaze making you feel like the eighth wonder of the world.

The second he released your shaky hands you were on him, holding onto his shoulder and pulling him in for a bruising kiss, his talented fingers slowing down to bring you down from your high. Once he let you get your fill, his kiss softened, short pecks to your lips, to your cheek, to you closed eyelids.

“You okay, Shines? Was that too much?”

You shook your head with a breathless laugh, the action of checking that you were alright familiar, matching the faint memory of seeing the images of his desires. Fuck you so good you’d forget your own name, but in a very respectful and caring way. It had Steve written all over it, alright. You should have known.

His forehead rested against your sweaty one, his nose nudging yours, his body more holding you up rather than restricting your movements now.

“I’m gonna need words, Shines.”

“Yeah,” you whispered obediently, pecking his lips for a good measure.

His hungry eyes sparkled with mischief as they met yours, beautifully red lips curling up in a smirk and causing your racing heart to stumble.

“Good… because I don’t think that’s how the fantasy ended…”

You yelped when his hands slipped under your ass without a single warming and lifted you with ease, your own hands gripping at his shoulders, legs, while rather jelly-like from your mind-blowing orgasms still, wrapping around his waist on instinct. You felt his hardness press against your core, hard planes of muscle without as much minute tremble under your weight as you stared at him, excitement stirring in your belly anew. With laughable ease, one of his arms shifted so he could use his other hand on you as he pleased.

You bit down the squeal ripping from your lips, but not quite successfully. He was carrying you. On one hand. And he didn’t even break a sweat yet.

“Better?” he asked smugly and it shouldn’t be attractive, you hated arrogance, but goddamnit cocky Steve seemed the hottest thing ever at the moment. Even when he was still fully clothed and your dress was loosely hanging over your bra, skirt ruffled up. Christ, his shoulders were so wide-

“I don’t think I can survive better…” you admitted, gulping, but letting your hands roam his exquisite body and gods you could come again just from touching all the delicious power you knew were locked in that body. “But I wanna try.”

Steve’s grin was the thing from your filthiest dreams; and his cock pressing against your core, the annoying fabric of his sweatpants in the way, was too.

“Atta girl…” he praised, hand curling around your nape to pull you in for a kiss that had barely any resemblance to the one he graced you with to bring you down, oh no. He licked into your mouth with indulgence, taking what was already his. “You’re gonna be so good for me, aren’t you? Take everything I give you?”

“Yes.”  

“Let me fill you up, again and again until I’ve had enough? Until you’re so completely mine that all you can think of is my name and the way it feels to come on my cock? You’re gonna let me do that, sweetheart?” he whispered to your ear, sin dripping from every carefully spoken syllable. He pulled at your dress, revealing your bra and groaning when he palmed your breast over the thin material, your own hands sliding down his chest and finally under his t-shirt to feel the heat of his skin.

So good. Gods, he felt so good.

“Yes. Wanna feel you. All of you.”

Steve rutted into you and you grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and tugged, wordlessly begging him to reveal your playground. He chuckled, pulling at his t-shirt himself to help you, quick to hum a promise to your lips that had your core clench around the painful emptiness.

“Oh you’ll feel me, Shines. I’ll make sure you’ll feel me for days. That what you want?”

One palm sprawled over his chest, the other laid over his abs, you weren’t sure you could answer beyond an absent nod. Steve did not find that satisfactory.

The nips of his teeth combined with the rumble in his ribcage had you release something between a mewl and a gasp, his abdomen shaking with a silent laugher.

“Oh that was a pretty noise. Can’t wait to hear more of it.”

“Steve, please, just-“

He heard out your plea at last, kissing you, free hand going to the laces of his sweats, undoing it way too slowly. Impatient, you knocked his hand away and did it yourself, feeling Steve’s lips curl in a grin against yours.

“Do you need me so much, doll? Need me to make you mine?”

You barely had time to breathe a yes and shove his pants down, hand wrapping around his thick length, drawing a breathy sound of pleasure from him and an unnecessary confession of the obvious.

“Yeah, need you too.”

He allowed you barely a few seconds of pumping his cock before he coaxed your hand away, the head of cock nudging your slit, quickly coated in your slick. His groan was delicious to hear, your hips bucking on instinct.

Yeah, need you too. You did this to him.

“Fuck, Shines, you’ll feel like Heaven.”

It was inappropriate. Completely and entirely inappropriate but you chuckled, a cheeky retort about seven minutes dying on your tongue when Steve entered you, a little too fast and straight to the hilt before he gave you time to adjust to his impressive size and grith. The stretch was a lot; a lot more than his already thick fingers, but you had never known you could be filled so well and it could feel just this good.

He was made for you, he had to be. Or maybe you were made for him.

Little droplets of sweat pearled on his forehead, gaze firm on yours, dark and amused at once as he slowly retreated and pushed inside you again, your lips dropping open because you had been wrong; he stretched you further and a shy glance down told you he still had a way to go.

“I could hear that pun before you said it, doll. You’re thinking too much,” he husked, setting a pace and pushing just a bit further and further with each thrust, hand sprawling over your lower back to angle you to his liking – for you to take him even deeper. The burn and fulness felt impossible, but Steve’s intent gaze on your face was even more so. “Let’s fix that.”

“I thought you liked me brilliant?” you hummed as if you didn’t feel your toes curl in pleasure, your hands grasping at his shoulders, at his arms, anywhere to keep him closer, closer…

Wind knocked out of you with ne sharp thrust, you finally took all of him; your lips parted with silent oh god, eyes slipping shut as the sensation of utter fullness. Distantly, you could feel his gaze on you, drinking in the sight; the artist in him admiring the visual, no matter how plain you thought you had to look.

“I do, Shines… but now I need you to think about one and one thing only.”

There was no space for words after that. Once he had you, he set a punishing pace, claiming your lips as much as your silky heat, overwhelming all of your senses all over again. The onslaught of sensation – his warmth, his strength, his musky scent, his lips, his grip on you, the fast but deep drags of his girth against your walls, stretching you to your limits – it was all too much, too much when his fingers sneaked between your bodies and ripped the dress away to give the much-needed attention to your clit.

“Steve-“

“That’s it…” he spoke against your mouth, teeth grazing your lower lip even as his pace never faltered, building you towards the skies again, “you really are perfect, Shines, gripping me so tight. So perfect and mine, aren’t you?”

“Yours… yours… yours,” you promised with every thrust until you couldn’t, your lips falling limp, your nails digging into Steve’s back when you came with another shout of his name.

And soon, he followed, whispered praises and mine over and over as he made you exactly that. Thoroughly his. Keeping you close even when he pulled out, keeping you close when his spent drippled out of you and he simply gathered in on his fingers, pushing it right back, dark gaze never leaving yours, your stomach making wild somersaults.

Mine. So completely mine. Aren’t you, Shines?

You were. Completely his, deeply sated and utterly exhausted. You were grateful he carried you to bed, because your legs were beyond functioning; as he laid you down, you couldn’t see the clock and you thanked heavens for that, because the time had had to tipped over from too late to too early. But you couldn’t care less. Not when Steve’s fingers caressed every inch of bare skin of your body they could reach, the rags of your clothes in a messy pile by the door a proud reminder of how exactly he had got it off.

And got you off.

You mentally snorted at the bad pun, another one you didn’t have a chance to share since Steve had been too determined to stop you from thinking returning to your mind.

“Steve?” you smiled lazily as he was lying next to you, propped up at his elbow, smiling down at you softly – so softly in contrast to how he had railed you into oblivion. Lovingly, of course.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I think this was what we should call Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

He groaned, falling on his back and drawing a full belly laughter from you, throwing his arm over his face as if he couldn’t bear to look at someone who made such a terrible joke. With effort, you propped on your elbow then, looking at the gorgeous length of his body for a change, cheeks hurting from grinning so wide. He was a work of art; Michelangelo’s David had nothing on him. Superb balance of size and function in every muscle, every tendon, as hard as stone when needed and carved into perfection. Alive and warm under your gaze and touch, its utter superiority proven by countless missions and work-out you had witnessed. It wasn’t just how large his body was, the contrast of the width of his shoulders to his waist, the lines of his abs with soft treasure trail; it was the knowledge of what his body could do. What that brilliant mind behind those sweet blues could come up, the kind heart humming contentedly under your palm now. You had met enough dumb jocks in your line of work, big almost as Steve, handsome too; but they could never compare.

He moved his arm when your fingers walked down his sternum, heading for the treasure trail; his cerulean eyes observed with a mixture of mischief and warmth, wide awake despite the ungodly hour. You stopped, fingers hovering just above his skin, the heat it radiated tickling your fingertips.

It didn’t escape you – it was literally hard to miss that – that Steve clearly hadn’t had enough. You didn’t ask why, whether it was the serum or something else, but you knew you didn’t want to leave him unsatisfied.

You had promised, hadn’t you, even if it was in the heat of the moment. Until he had his fill, he said? You could take it.

Leaning down to kiss him, you were welcomed by the sweet taste of his smile; your wandering hand continued your path at last, wrapping around his still very hard length. He didn’t protest, only reached out to pull you closer, practically lying on top of him.

The kiss was lazy; half-hearted desire, reluctance and indulgence at once. Steve tangled his fingers in your hair, pushing it out of the way, caressing your cheek.

“You sure you can take more, sweetheart?”

You nodded without a second thought, a wordless ‘yeah’ whispered straight into his mouth, a slight twist of your hand causing him to groan.

Steve might be caring to a fault, but he was only a man – as he had said. Who was he to refuse your offering? He sat up and pulled you to his lap with ease, your body obedient and pliant, a gasp elicited from your throat when his lips moved to suck on your nipple, your fingers gripping on his hair.

“Steve…”

“Did I mention you were perfect?” he muttered into your soft flesh, kneading your ass and your breast.

You had never felt so utterly adored; body, mind and soul. How could you be anything else than his when this was what it was like?

“Once or twice. You’re not too bad yourself, Cap-tain,” you stuttered when he pinched your other nipple for the cheekiness, a breathy giggle escaping you.

He released your nipple with a wet pop, gaze having turned hungry again.

“Good. Turn around, sweetheart.”

You looked at him slightly confused, but obeyed. You’d do anything, even kneel in front of him, the prospect of him taking you from behind like this stirring something deep inside you. You glanced over your shoulder as he positioned himself behind you, a glorious god prepared to claim the sacrifice of those who worshipped him; and god, would you do exactly that.

He grasped at your chin softly, capturing your lips with his, his hardness nudging the globes of your ass; and released your lips all too soon, fingers pushing at your jaw to look forward.

Heat flooded your body, teeth sinking into your lower lip. Kneeling on the bed, completely bare and exposed, you were facing the mirror.

His fantasy. His turn.

“That okay?” Steve asks, voice husky as his lips attached to the flesh above your collarbone, his arm sneaking around your waist and pulling you to his front. He was hidden from your sight for most part, a true shame; you were on full display.

For you. For him.

You gulped, gaze set firmly on his face in the mirror, not daring to stray it elsewhere even as you could see his eyes appreciating his view.

“I… I think so?”

His smile was warm, a little boyish and entirely devious. You sunk into it as much as you sunk into his firm body, his fingers tweaking your nipple, drawing your gaze to the movement of instinct. Heat spread in your insides at the sight of his large hand over you, barely an edge of shame nudging your consciousness. Filthy. Vain. Wrong. Thrilling.

“Good… ‘cause I think we can do better than seven minutes,” Steve hummed with a trace of humour in his voice, free hand sliding between your thighs to tease you and make sure you were ready for him still – or again. When he spread your lips for the head of his cock, you instinctively bucked into his hand, gaze flickering to the sinful image. “In fact… I wonder how long you can last until you’re begging me…”

He pushed into you in one swift movement, strong hand keeping you in place, the tendons on his forearm dancing, a breathless oh falling from your lips.

“…to stop. Look at yourself, sweetheart. Look at us.”

Almost in a haze, like a new dream on its own, you did. With the strangest and most tickling glee, your gaze trailed from where you and Steve were one between your spread thighs, over his arm draped over you, his hand spreading softly over your throat to keep you looking straight into the mirror, lips attached to your temple curled in a smile.

“Your mind is way more filthier than I thought,” you managed to say before he started thrusting into you, his smile earning a wicked edge as he nuzzled your hair.

“Shh… that’s my best-kept secret. You’re not gonna tell anyone, are you, doll?”

Powerful. Adored. Desired.

His.

The next words rolled off your tongue before you could think twice, Steve’s hypnotic gaze on your body enough of an encouragement.

“Keep my mouth busy and I won’t--- oh god.”

The fingers of his left hand circled your clit, sending an almost painful pleasure through your veins, while his right hand angled your head to capture your lips indeed.

“Now who’s filthy,” he murmured, pressing his thumb against your mouth, dark pupils blown wide as you sucked on it obediently. He pushed into you so deep at the action you thought you’d feel him in your throat and you finally understood the expression of la petit mort. The feeling of bliss washing over you was so strong it could kill you and yet you’d never felt more alive. “Fuck, Shines, you’re gonna be the death of me. But first… let me show you how beautiful you look when I make you mine.”

And he did. Oh, he did.

And he’d stand by his promise that you’d feel it for days too, you were sure of it, even if only time would tell.

The sun was already rising and peeking through the blinds when you finally laid your head on the pillow to sleep at last. Successful revels Thor would say, you thought lazily.

You walked the fine line between consciousness and dreams, cradled to Steve’s chest, closer than you ever thought you could be. Idly, you let your mind wander; despite the absolutely mind-blowing sex that only probably happened to a person once in a lifetime, you couldn’t but believe that this wasn’t a one-time thing. No, Steve didn’t do one-night stands, he even said so; his mind was on your for quite some time. This was but a start and you loved the idea of that. Not just because of the promise or experiencing this again, the pleasure still flowing through your body as an echo of what had been almost too much bliss to bear, but because of love.

You had been more than a little in love with him for almost two years – and you couldn’t wait to fall harder. Because besides being a sight to behold, Steve’s arms provided comfort, safety and sincere affection. You didn’t have to be scared of that fall, because they’d catch you. You didn’t have to fear for your heart if you gave it to him, because you knew Steve Rogers to his core; he’d cherish the gift and guard it with his life.

And he’d deserve it too, your whole heart. He deserved to be loved deeply and unconditionally; and on occasion, filthily.

With a sleepy hum, he nuzzled into your neck almost as if he could hear your thoughts and approved of them, pressing a soft kiss there. You drifted off to sleep with a little sappy but entirely adoring smile.

“You did something to the bottle, didn’t you? Some fancy physics trick?” Bucky said, more an announcement than a question, just before he decided to finally follow Steve’s and your example, ready to retreat to sleep – most of the group did anyway.

Tony was a picture of genuine innocence for once at the accusation. “Me? Please. How would I even do that?”

“I dunno. Magnets? Electric pulse? Flying invisible bot? What do I know…”

A nearby chuckle caught both Tony’s and Bucky’s attention, their suddenly knowing gazes finding Loki with his arms crossed over his chest. They didn’t bother to pretend to be irritated, even as at any other time, they would have been. For once, they were just grateful; Friday had silently informed them that the agent known as Speedy had been last seen outside Steve’s suite and wasn’t seen leaving for at least an hour.

If the two clueless dumbasses figured their shit out at last, Loki’s mischievous involvement was worth it.

“Oh no, I cannot possibly take the credit for that part.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “What part can you take the credit for?”

“You could not handle the truth, Sergeant,” Loki smirked, causing Bucky to roll his eyes. “But not the bottle. I swear. I admit that I wanted to – but I did not have to.”

“So you want me to believe that after two years of Steve and Speedy needing to pull their head out of their asses and at least half of us trying to talk some sense into one or the other, a stupid game an even stupider coincidence finally did it for them. Really?”

Tony nodded, watching Loki with searching gaze. “Yeah, I’m with Buckaroo on this o-“

The sudden soft dragging sound and a clink drew the gazes of all three men. The bottle, having spun a bit, came to a slow stop under their watchful eye.

“Dammit, Loki-“

The trickster raised his hands in defence, chuckling again. “I did not do anything!”

“Yeah, right-“

The bottle shifted again, this time spinning fast – and stopped abruptly at once.

“But-“ Bucky froze mid-sentence. Then, his head snapped in the direction the bottle was pointing now. His eyes found the young redhead witch, walking out of the room hand-in-hand with Vision. As Tony followed Bucky’s line of sight, his mouth fell slightly agape.

Loki only smirked harder. “I must say, it is always a pleasure to say this: I told you so.”

“No way,” Tony breathed out, incredulous.

“Stark, give that girl a raise,” Bucky muttered, shocked as well; but completely sincere in his request. Bless magic. Bless that girl for pushing the idiot of his friend into what Bucky couldn’t convince him to do for months.

Wanda only smiled at them over her shoulder and walked out of the door with a silent ‘good night’.

Steve Rogers masterlist 

Complete masterlist

The prompt was Only when you and your significant other are locked in the closet for 7 minutes, you’re transported somewhere else. and well. Yeah. I transported them into each other’s head – specifically, into their filthy fantasy. I am not even sorry anymore for that cheat if it is a cheat🫡 Though I am a little sorry for the length because this was supposed to be a one shot (story of my life).

Well, this was a LONG ride. I hope you enjoyed it 🤭

Let me know if did and if you can🥰

Thank you for reading!

[naetaesarya]

i remember there was some discourse on how the reaction of the books and the ending was the reason grrm hasn’t released the books specifically suggesting that it’s daenerys ending and her “mad queen” arc but i think it’s because grrm is returning to the original outline with its major house stark points being an antithesis to the faux feminist show ending (sansa’s death, tension between jon and bran, incest between jon and arya)

Hi anon!! This will be a bit of a long long answer :) :) :) Happy Halloween!

From my foggy hazy addled memory, GRRM was having issues releasing Winds years before season 8 bombed and exploded its viscera everywhere. We'll have that goo staining the carpet for years :( GRRM seemed to believe the books would end roughly in the same place as the show... until after seeing season 8 whereupon he was like... well...

You know I had a lot of input in the beginning of Game of Thrones, partly cause I had these books out there. But at a certain point, as the show went on, I found I had less and less influence, until by the end, I really didn't even know what, what was going on. Some of these things I watched like everybody else and and, "oh...okay..." That's...

Source

Yeah.

I think it's also very important to consider what kind of messaging would a mad queen Dany send?

Dany is one of GRRM's lead female characters and she has existed as the protagonist of her own narrative since the very beginning. She defies a number of feminine conventions and is anything but a passive support sidekick character. As GRRM said, Daenerys can do anything, she can literally make up the magic as she goes. When Dany loses her husband and her child, as well as her position as Khal Drago's khaleesi, she creates and leads her own khalasar made up of misfits. Upon her brother's death, Dany is now responsible for returning the Iron Throne to her family's dynasty and what is traditionally a male's job becomes Dany's job. As such, Dany gathers forces, commands armies, plans battles, and at only 16, she is a leader and queen in her own right. This small and formerly timid 16-year old girl is now the most powerful person in this world.

When GRRM conceived this story in the late 80s-early 90s, action-oriented girls who defied convention and were the central focus of their own narratives didn't really happen. That's why shows such as Buffy the Vampire Slayer hit that special kind of nerve in the 90s, became so influential in the decades when ASOIAF was being published, and had a lasting influence on media since. Writer and producer Bryan Fuller remarks:

"Buffy showed that young women could be in situations that were both fantastic and relatable, and instead of shunting women off to the side, it puts them at the center."

Source

GRRM does just that with Dany and Arya -- Dany and Arya are active participants in the centers of relatable situations with fantastical elements. Of Arya, GRRM says:

I can’t say there’s any one specific model [for Arya], but a lot of the women I’ve known over the years have had aspects of Arya with them. Especially some of the women I knew when I was a young man back in the ’60s and ’70s, you know — the decade of the sexual revolution and the feminist movement. I knew a lot of young women who weren’t buying into the, “Oh, I have to find a husband and be a housewife.”

Source

It's a reference to a certain physical type, and a certain indication of what Jon finds admirable. It's like someone who reminds you of, you know... Other people might be put off by this, you know, hair that looks like small rodents have been living in there. It doesn't put him off because he is used to that.

Source

Jon is endeared to Ygritte because she reminds him of Arya, a character who GRRM patterned after the real world women he knew coming up amidst second-wave feminism. As Arya wants options outside of typical gendered choices for highborn ladies, Dany is also kind of thrust into this sudden and pretty unconventional role. She emerges from the inferno unburned with three baby dragons and what's left of the khalasar after it has been deserted.

Arya and Dany are both thrust down unconventional paths as they navigate their environments and who they are in relation to those environments. Dany continues to explore her sexuality with Irri and later, Daario. She works hard to turn away from any dark inclinations (inclinations which all of our characters experience) and the last thing she wants to be is like her father.

What would it say if GRRM took this figure and made her "mad" or filled her with homicidal rage and hate, especially at a time when proactive action girls are not a commonality but so rare. What would that be saying? What idea of GRRM's would this be supporting?

I also struggle with Dany being mad in the books because while D&D ascribed credit for King Bran, burning Shireen, Hodor's origins to GRRM, and even shades of Jon/Dany, that definitely didn't happen with Mad Dany. While much of season 8 is divisive, what I'm gleaning is that Dany's turn was among the most controversial -- if not the most controversial -- element. Wouldn't D&D let GRRM shoulder some of that blame if it was a GRRM thing?

My own feeling is that D&D tried to recreate the Red Wedding with Mad Dany -- ambush audience with big surprise twist (whoops, Dany's been triggered by bells) and then shock, shock, shock, tragedy, and look at that artful blood.

but i think it’s because grrm is returning to the original outline with its major house stark points being an antithesis to the faux feminist show ending (sansa’s death, tension between jon and bran, incest between jon and arya)

Yeah, I think that outline is still relevant. I think there will be a succession crisis of sorts among the remaining Starks: a Littlefinger-backed and sponsored direwolfless Sansa; a Manderly-backed Rickon; a will and/or Stannis-supported Jon, and the heir whom Robb believed dead -- Bran Stark. Then there's Arya who:

is currently believed to be the Lady of Winterfell;

identity was used by the Boltons as the "key to the North"';

and is "the Ned's girl" for whom the mountains clans fight:

Even prisoners have ears, and she had heard all the talk at Deepwood Motte, when King Stannis and his captains were debating this march. Ser Justin had opposed it from the start, along with many of the knights and lords who had come with Stannis from the south. But the wolves insisted; Roose Bolton could not be suffered to hold Winterfell, and the Ned's girl must be rescued from the clutches of his bastard. So said Morgan Liddle, Brandon Norrey, Big Bucket Wull, the Flints, even the She-Bear.

(The King's Prize, ADWD)

I think Arya would choose Jon if forced to choose. There was a bitter rift between Bran and Jon in the original outline and that could manifest in the remaining story as well, perhaps over Winterfell or something at the Wall.

What did GRRM say about happy families 😭

[sunshineneedsaplacetokeephernsfw]

Day 31 |

Halloween Special part 1

- Alfons & Jude (separate)

Full fic will include everyone

Kinktober masterlist

Gender-neutral reader (genitals not specified)

Word count: 2.7k

18+, spooky stuff, dubcon, semi-public stimulation (if the castle is considered public), grinding, edging, no editing

A/n: I procrastinated too much and this whole giant fic is not probably not going to be finished today. So here's what I finished so far. The full fic will be posted as one later. Happy Halloween.

“Thanks for helping me hand out those treats, Ellis.” You walked back into the castle. “I’m glad we got to do something for Halloween before the moon comes out.” 

Earlier Victor had told you it was the Queen of the Night’s Halloween, which would make them more villainous by the time night rolled around. Which was why you celebrated the night before with some games and the type of things that were rumored to bring ghosts. It was a lot of fun.

“No problem. I liked being able to see you and everyone smile.”

You wondered how much time you had until sunset. It would be nice to be able to spend as much time as you could with them, but you were honestly looking forward to some time by yourself in your room. All day you had been pent up and you were eager to finally be able to relieve it.

You opened your mouth to speak again when something moved in the corner of your eye. Your head whipped over to see a glowing wisp floating through the air. You squinted, thinking it was a trick of the light. It suddenly moved and zipped past you and disappeared into the wall.

“Did you see that too?” you said.

“Yeah. I think I saw one earlier too.”

“I see you’ve met our new guests,” William’s voice made you turn around. Victor skipped beside him.

“Remember that fun little, cute game we did that was said to summon ghosts? Turns out it was real.”

“What?” Your mind stumbled over the implications. “How.. is that possible? Ghosts are real?”

“Curses are real. I’d say anything is fair game,” William said.

That explained why some of your things were misplaced earlier.

“Are they dangerous?” Ellis asked.

“No.”

“Not from what we can tell so far.”

“Either way, that book of spells we used might be more dangerous than we thought if they work,” Victor said.

“What did you do with it?” you said.

Alfons waltzed by, with Elbert beside him. “It seems during our fun we misplaced the book. Everyone has been working hard to find it.”

“...you have?” Elbert said.

“You don’t believe me?”

“I’ve been with you the whole time.”

The two of them walked away.

“Oi,” Jude’s voice made you jump, “need ya to do something for me,” Jude said to Ellis.

“What do you think about all the ghosts, Jude?” you blurted out the question.

“Annoying as hell. Keeps makin’ me see things that ain’t there. Now c’mon.” He walked off impatiently.

“See you later,” Ellis whispered before leaving. He walked beside Jude, listened and nodded before running off somewhere else. Probably to do whatever Jude asked.

You turned back around to see Will still standing there, but Victor was gone.

“Where’d Victor go?”

“He had some things to do as the queen’s aide. He wished to say goodbye, but didn’t want to interrupt your conversation, so he told me to say it for him.”

You nodded. Your toe nudged the floor. “So, how long are the ghosts going to be here?”

“As long as they please,” he smiled. “Or until we can find the spell book. There’s a page on how to undo the ritual.”

You nodded. Too bad no one decided to do the counter spell for fun.

“Isn’t it exciting to have ghosts as guests?” William asked.

“I guess so.”

“Are you worried?”

“A little? It’ll just be something to get used to. The castle being haunted.”

He laughed. “That would make Crown Castle more interesting.”

You heard your name and turned to see Liam and Harrison. William gave a bow goodbye and you went to join Liam.

You talked a bit and promised he could help you with the treats next year. Harrison offered to help too, but you had a feeling he was going to snitch some of them for himself. You also saw Roger trying his best to get some data on the ghosts. A brief chat told you that it was hard to communicate with them. It was strange seeing them float around randomly and take different shapes.

You parted ways with the villains. It was starting to get dark. Your feet moved faster as you tried to get to your room. You were aching just thinking about finally getting some time to yourself and you walked faster.

Was it just you, or were there more ghosts? Or were they just changing to be bigger. They moved all around you. You just ignored it and the tight feeling in your chest. You blinked when you thought you saw a forest in the corner of your eye.

You shook your head and kept walking. But you just kept getting turned around. No matter how far you walked, you couldn’t find the right door, and it felt like you were taking the same turn over and over again.

The ghosts whispered screams into your ears. You shook your head harder and covered your ears with your palms. It was going to be alright. You just needed to find your room. If you could find your room? Could you find your room? Were they just going to be in your room too?

You ran faster and faster, feeling lost in the castle for the first time since you first arrived. You turned corners again and again. Feeling hope when you saw somewhere that looked familiar, then despair when it didn’t again.

You just held still and your body twitched. It looked like the walls were moving. You held a sob in your throat as you slumped against the wall. Your back dragged against something that didn’t feel right. You looked behind you. In a moment, you briefly saw it was a bookcase behind you. You reached out and felt it.

The cool leather of the books seeped into your fingertips. You were in the library. How the hell did you manage to get all the way over here? Your body trembled with a sob.

For a moment, you thought you heard the click of dress shoes on the floor. You nearly dismissed it as a hallucination when you heard it again. You looked up and saw someone walk into view. Alfons glanced around. Was it really him or were the ghosts messing with you again. He didn’t have his usual smile on his face.

His eyes caught onto you and his smile returned.

“Why hello. And I thought you had already went to your room like a good robin. You really should before you run across Elbert.”

“I couldn’t find it.” Your voice came out sadder than you meant it to.

He hummed and walked up to you. You didn’t move and stayed curled up.

“May I ask what you’re doing down there?”

“I don’t feel like getting up.”

After a moment he lowered himself and sat beside you.

“What if you aren’t real?” You sniffled. After a second of silence, “Say something only he would know.” 

He grinned.

“Last week when you lost a card bet, you-” 

“Okay. You’re him,” you quickly cut him off. 

“I don’t believe the spirits have gotten that good at their illusions yet to impersonate someone. And one touch will prove if it’s real or not. My dreams are far more potent.”

You stared at the ground. You had no idea what time it was. Or if it was dark outside or not. Not with the ghosts messing with you.

“Why are they doing this?”

“They may be bored.”

You shook your head. “I know they aren’t real, and I shouldn’t worry. But I…” You trailed off and rocked yourself a bit.

“I see your distress is still real.” He shook his head. “That’s a problem.”

He leaned in and tilted your head up. His warm breath fanned over your skin.

“They can’t hurt you. You should be more concerned about me.” Without even giving you time to think, he lightly stroked your skin. “Would you like a distraction?”

He quickly worked your body up again. Especially after not being able to mastrubate earlier, since the spirits foiled that plan. You couldn’t help but nod.

He leaned in and captured your mouth in a kiss. It quickly enveloped you. You tried to keep up with him. His tongue pushed into your mouth and took your breath away. You moved closer. He stroked your back and shoulder, sensual and teasing. You moaned softly and pressed your thighs together.

He pulled back. You didn’t even notice when he took his glove off when you felt his bare fingers on the nape of your neck.

“There are no ghosts of ghouls. We’re simply having fun together.”

You blinked and the library looked normal. You tried to remember why you were sitting on the floor again when Alfons nipped at your neck. You gasped. He quickly slipped under your clothes to feel your sex. 

You opened up your legs to let him in more. He chuckled.

“You always respond so sweetly.”

You bucked yourself into him, using your back on the bookcase for leverage. You moaned more loudly as the pressure in you grew. So desperate that you didn’t notice you were beginning to rock the bookcase behind you.

“Careful.” His hand went to the wood to steady it.

As he did there was a loud thump. You both jumped and turned to the direction of the noise. It was a book. You looked between it and the bookcase. Something seemed off. The way it fell… it was like it was placed on top, not on one of the shelves.

“What’s this?” Alfons briefly removed his hand from you.

You reached over and grabbed it. Your eyes scanned the cover. It was the spell book from last night.

“Wasn’t Victor looking for this?”

Why was it on the very top of the bookcase? Like someone was trying to hide it.

His eyes widened and he looked around, like he saw something you couldn’t. You tilted your head in confusion.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” He said and looked at you like nothing was wrong. “But I suggest that we-”

Wait a second- The memory of the ghosts came back to you all at once. Suddenly you couldn’t see. Wisps of white clouded your vision and swirled around you as if they were angry. The whispered screams filled your ears and you pressed your palms to your ears. 

You thought you hear Alfons’s voice through it and lifted your hands.

“Just keep walking. You’ve suffered worse than this,” he said.

You tried to catch his hand, but couldn’t find him. You felt a tug on the book and you tucked it under your arm. With a deep breath, you just put one foot after another.

It felt like the wind was in your face. You closed your eyes and just kept walking. Using your arms to feel the walls and try to navigate through the castle. You kept holding on tight to the book, and switched your hold to press it against your chest.

Slowly the sounds in your ear stopped. You opened your eyes to see them slowly floating to a stop and a figure with a black and purple cape swatting at the ghosts.

“Jude?”

He was cursing under his breath as he touched each one and they stopped. Your eyes widened.

While you were distracted, the book was tugged out of your hands. You cried out and reached out for it. Another hand snatched it up for you and touched the ghost that immediately stopped. Your eyes met with cold amethyst ones. You froze.

“You… you can make them sleep?”

He grunted. “It’s hard as hell, but yes.” His scowl made your blood turn cold.. “What the hell ya doin’ all the way out here? Listenin’ to none of the warnin’s to get in bed before dark? Ya realize ya owe me fer helpin’ ya.” He took a step closer.

“I couldn’t find the door.”

“Of course ya couldn’t.” He rolled his eyes a bit. “No one’s findin’ the right door in a shitstorm like this.” His eyes drifted to the book he’d caught. “What’s this?”

You held it up. “The spell book.”

His eyebrow raised. “The one we need ta get rid of all these pests?”

“Yes.”

“What’d it say?”

You glanced down at it and bit your lip. “I haven’t checked yet.”

He grit his teeth. “Why the hell not? You just been wanderin’ around like a limp deer? Come on.”

He placed it on the nearby table and grabbed your hair to pull you to it. Your hands went out to catch yourself and his knee went between your legs behind you.

“Find it.”

Your eyes widen. Even compared to usual, this was mean. Is this part of the Queen of the Night?

He pressed his knee harder into you. “The longer ya take, the longer I keep getting to do what I want with cha as punishment.”

You flipped the book open and started to look through the pages as he grinded his legs onto you. You bit your lip and held back the moans as your shaking hands kept searching. It was hard to read in the dark. And you were still sensitive from earlier. A whimper escaped you and you tried to keep yourself from moving against him. You hadn’t even gotten to cum earlier either.

You throbbed against him and dug your fingers into the table. You hissed as he pushed harder.

You were lifted to your toes on occasion. It was so hard to focus.

He laughed. “Startin’ to think you wanted me to punish and use ya.”

You bit down harder on your lip. You couldn’t even say that you weren’t enjoying it. You whimpered and your eye caught on something.

“Found it! It’s right here,” you pointed to it.

“Finally.  Thought you’d stall ‘til the night was over.”

“I wasn’t-”

“What’s it say?”

“Oh. ‘In the room you originally summoned them… draw the symbol on the floor and say the counter spell',” you read. You were in the dining hall when you were messing around with the book. “Okay. So now we just have to-”

You tried to push back when you found he wouldn’t let you.

“Ya thought I was done with ya? Ya still owe me fer stoppin’ the ghosts ‘n getting’ back the book ya lost.” You could hear his smirk. “Keep going. I saw ya grindin’ like a slut.”

A whine escaped your throat before you could stop it. You were still aching. You swallowed your pride and rubbed yourself on him. Your head fell back as you whimpered. Trying to rub up against him just right. The material of his pants felt so good. Or maybe you were just horny.

He laughed. “Ya really are hopeless.”

He pushed harder, once, twice. Tears pricked at your eyes. Pleads fell from your mouth. You were actually getting close. God, you couldn’t believe you were so horny that you were actually close just from this.

Your nails dug into the table. Just a little more.

He pulled his leg away and you almost fell down.

You turned with your eyebrows furrowed. He just smiled. Of course he wasn’t going to let you. Especially not tonight.

“What’s with that disappointed face? Only makes me want to do it again.” 

You sighed and shook your head. You just needed to get this over with so you could finally get to your room.

“Okay. Now we have to go to the dining room,” you said as you tried to pretend your legs weren’t shaking.

“We? I’m doin’ it. Yer staying here.”

He reached out to grab the book. On impulse you snatched it up before he could and pulled it close to your chest. The look he gave you made you shiver and step back.

You screwed up your courage. “I’m helping. I’m not staying here with no idea when this is going to end and waiting until the ghosts wake up. I’m going to help.”

You knew he was going to argue. Before he could protest, you started running in the direction of the dining hall. He cursed and followed after you.