#spirit halloween skeleton costume | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dollgxtz · 30 days ago

Text

Trick or...Temptation?

Word Count: 9.8k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, pet play if u squint, creampie, biting, rough sex, pet names like kitten, sweetie, penetration, cunninlingus, i wanted to make this a vampire!sylus fic so bad but I got nervous lmao but theres slight mentions of him :3

AN: Happy Halloween everyone! I sincerely hope u all enjoy this, it was super fun to write! I rushed to finish this so I could post it exactly on Halloween. Enjoy!

“What?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he ran his thumb over the spot on your neck where he had bitten you. “You thought I was joking?” You opened your mouth, trying to find the words, but before you could speak, Sylus leaned in close again, his breath hot against your ear. “Be still,” he murmured, his tone soft but commanding. “You can handle it. Just like you said.”

“Come oooon! It’ll be so much fun!” Tara exclaimed, trailing behind you as you both walked out of work. The day had ended early thanks to the holiday, and while most people had exciting Halloween plans, you had opted for a quiet night in with a scary movie marathon. Of course, your enthusiastic coworker had other ideas for you.

“Tara, as much as I’d love to, it’s really just not my scene, you know? Maybe next year?” you tried, hoping to dodge her invitation once again.

“You always say that!” Tara pouted, her voice pleading as she quickened her pace to walk beside you. “Please? It’ll be fun! Just a few hours, a couple of drinks, a little dancing, and we can leave! Deal? It’s a festival, for crying out loud! I don’t want to go by myself.”

You glanced at Tara, her eyes wide and shimmering with that classic puppy-dog look she always gave you when she really wanted something. You couldn’t deny she had a point. It wasn’t like you had big plans for the night—just a quiet evening with a blanket and some popcorn. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad to step out for a few hours, right?

“Fine,” you finally sighed, rolling your eyes but smiling a little. “But only for a few hours, and then I’m out.”

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, bestie!” Tara squealed, practically bouncing in excitement. “I’ll see you later tonight! You’re going to love it!”

And that was how you found yourself here, standing in front of your mirror, dressed in a skimpy cat costume. You adjusted the white miniskirt and tugged at the black corset top, making sure everything was in place. The cat ears perched on your head and the swishing tail added a playful touch, though the whole ensemble was definitely more revealing than you were used to. You sighed, resigned to your fate.

You didn’t have to stay long, you reminded yourself. Just a few hours, and then you could slip back into your original plan of movie night...hopefully without running into too much trouble.

You sighed and pulled out your phone, typing a quick message to Tara: On my way. Hitting send, you opened your ride-share app. If you were going to be drinking tonight, it was best not to drive yourself. The car arrived faster than you expected, and you slipped into the back seat, watching the city lights blur by as you mentally prepared yourself for the night ahead.

Arriving at the event, you stepped out of the car and immediately took in the scene. The park had been transformed into a Halloween wonderland, bustling with life. String lights cast a soft, warm glow over the area, illuminating clusters of people already well into the party spirit. Bodies bumped together in rhythm with the pulsing beat of the music, and a mix of excited chatter and laughter filled the cool night air. The grass beneath your shoes was damp with evening dew, and the faint scent of autumn leaves and spiced drinks wafted through the crowd.

Everywhere you looked, Halloween-themed decorations adorned the space—carved pumpkins lined the walkways, some with goofy faces, others with intricate, eerie designs. Fake cobwebs clung to the trees, and glowing skeletons and witch hats dangled from makeshift booths. There was an excitement in the air, palpable and contagious, though you still felt a little out of place.

Your eyes wandered toward the bar at the far end of the festival grounds. It was busy, but it was exactly what you needed. Liquid courage, you thought. If you were going to make it through the night, a drink or two would certainly help take the edge off. You made a beeline for it, weaving through the crowd, your thoughts focused on what your first drink would be—something strong, something to help you loosen up.

Just as you were about to make your escape, a high-pitched squeal cut through the music, and you barely had time to turn before you saw her—Tara, dressed in her fairy costume, wings glittering under the lights, barreling toward you at full speed.

“You’re here!!” she cried, wrapping you in an excited hug before you could even react. “Oh my God, I thought for sure you’d bailed or fallen asleep or something!”

You laughed, the sound surprising even you. “Yeah, well, you convinced me. I wouldn’t leave you hanging,” you said, shaking your head as you hugged her back, her energy instantly infectious.

Tara pulled back, her wide smile practically glowing. “Thank you soooo much for coming! I’m so excited, I can’t even—” she paused, looking you up and down, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “You look amazing! That cat costume is sexy! Definitely a step up from your usual movie marathon at home, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the blush creeping up your neck. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll admit, this is...different,” you muttered, tugging at the hem of your miniskirt. The cool night air reminded you just how short it was. But Tara was right—you didn’t do this often. And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to try something new tonight.

Tara, completely unfazed by your slight discomfort, grabbed your hand with excitement. “Alright, enough chatting. Let’s get some drinks! We’re here to have fun, and the night is young!”

She pulled you toward the bar, and you couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. It wasn’t your scene, but with Tara by your side, maybe the night wouldn’t be so bad after all. The thumping bass of the music, the swirl of costumes, and the faint buzz of excitement in the air already had you feeling a little lighter.

The two of you made your way through the crowd and finally approached the bar. It was busy, but not unbearable, with people lined up in various costumes, chatting, laughing, and ordering drinks. As you and Tara waited for your turn, she started rambling about all the new Halloween movies you two could watch later, once the festival was over.

“There’s this one that’s supposed to be so creepy! It’s about these haunted scarecrows that come to life—oh, and don’t even get me started on the one with the possessed doll…” Tara continued, her excitement infectious as she rattled off titles.

You nodded along, half-listening, your mind slightly wandering as you scanned the area. The lights flickered over the bar, casting an eerie glow on the bottles lined up behind the counter. The decorations were elaborate—fake cobwebs stretched across the bar shelves, and jack-o’-lanterns glowed faintly from the corners of the space. You were just starting to get lost in your thoughts when the bartender, a stunning blonde woman dressed in a witch costume, turned to you with a smile.

“Hi, can I get a—” you began, but you were abruptly cut off by a smooth, male voice behind you.

“I’ll get a Gin Fizz and two margaritas for the ladies,” the voice said with casual authority.

You froze for a moment, the sound of that voice sending a jolt down your spine. You spun around, and there he was.

Sylus.

Tall, effortlessly imposing, with his signature white hair catching the dim light and his crimson red eyes locking onto yours with that familiar, knowing glint. He wore a dark, sleek outfit that hugged his frame perfectly, making him stand out even in the crowd of costumes. His smile was just as confident and wicked as you remembered.

“Long time no see, kitten” he said, his voice smooth, dripping with amusement as he looked down at you, eyeing your costume.

Your stomach did a flip. Of all the people you could have run into tonight, Sylus was the last person you expected—or wanted—to see. You hadn’t seen him in a while, and now here he was, appearing out of nowhere like he always did, and immediately making your pulse quicken.

“Sy-I mean Skye?” you stammered, catching yourself as Tara turned around too, clearly intrigued by the sudden appearance of this tall, striking man. Her bright eyes went wide, and she started clapping her hands excitedly.

“Skye! I haven’t seen you since our team-building outing! How’s the fruit business?” she asked, her voice bright and friendly as she came to stand beside you, completely unaware of your racing heart.

Sylus—no, Skye—didn’t miss a beat. He flashed Tara an easy smile, looking as unruffled as ever. “Ah, the fruit business is...ripe as always,” he replied with a wink towards you, clearly enjoying the nervous look on your face.

The bartender cleared her throat, cutting through the tension. “There’s a line, folks,” she said with a polite but firm smile, nodding toward the queue of people waiting for their drinks. “Take your drinks and let the others through.”

You blinked, suddenly remembering where you were. Nervously, you reached for your margarita and handed Sylus his gin fizz, all while trying to calm the wild beating of your heart. The casual smirk on his face did nothing to help your nerves. With drinks in hand, you and Tara moved toward a quieter, empty spot at the edge of the festival, away from the bar's chaos. Sylus, of course, followed.

As soon as you settled into your spot, Sylus wasted no time, his teasing smirk never fading. His eyes roamed over your outfit—your skimpy black cat costume with the mini skirt, corset top, and cat ears—and you could practically feel the heat of his gaze.

With a predatory gleam in his eye, he sauntered over, his smirk growing more wicked by the second. “You say you don’t want me calling you kitten, and yet here you are,” he drawled, letting his gaze sweep over your costume. “Dressed as one. How cute.”

You glared at him, already feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. “Zip it...” you warned, rolling your eyes at the sheer irony of it all. But despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but let a small giggle slip past your lips. It was absurd, really. Of course, of all the costumes you could've picked it just had to be this one.

He just chuckled, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. He took a sip of his own drink, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “What are you even doing here?” you finally asked, your voice a little sharper than intended. “I thought you didn’t like crowded places.”

Sylus gave a soft laugh, leaning against a nearby post with his usual air of nonchalance. “I’m not a fan of crowds,” he admitted, his gaze flickering back to the sea of people dancing and drinking. “But I happen to own this little part of Linkon.” He said it so casually, as if it were no big deal. “Figured I’d make an appearance. Keep an eye on things.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. Of course he did. Sylus always had a way of showing up in places you least expected him—places you thought you could escape from him, if only for a night. But owning part of the city? That was new.

But not surprising.

Tara, who had already downed her margarita, was clearly impressed. “Woah, Skye,” she slurred slightly, her eyes wide with admiration. “The fruit vendor business must pay soooo well.”

You shot her a look, silently willing her to stop talking, but she was already giggling, oblivious to the tension between you and Sylus. He, on the other hand, seemed more amused than anything.

“What can I say?” Sylus replied smoothly, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Fresh fruit is forever in demand.” His eyes met yours again, clearly enjoying the joke that only the two of you understood.

You groaned inwardly, sipping more of your margarita as you glared at Sylus. He was playing along, effortlessly weaving his cover story about being a simple fruit vendor. And yet, there he was, owning half the city and standing in front of you, looking like he could control the whole damn world if he wanted to.

Sylus raised his glass in a mock toast, his crimson eyes never leaving yours. “Happy Halloween?” he said with a wink, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips.

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered under your breath, knowing full well that this night was gonna be a loooong one.

Tara, always quick to notice things, suddenly glanced at Sylus with a playful frown. “Wait a second, Skye,” she said, squinting at him, “you’re not even in costume!” She giggled, rummaging through her bag, clearly not letting him off the hook. “This is a Halloween festival, after all. You’ve gotta dress the part!”

You internally groaned, already bracing yourself for whatever Tara had up her sleeve. But of course, she wasn’t about to disappoint. With a triumphant grin, she pulled out a small plastic case from her bag and popped it open, revealing a pair of cheap, plastic vampire fangs.

“Here!” she said, holding them out to Sylus with a twinkle in her eye. “These will work perfectly. You’ve already got the whole pale, mysterious look going on. You’d make such a great vampire!”

You couldn’t help but glance at Sylus, your heart skipping a beat as you realized just how well Tara’s suggestion fit. His striking white hair, his sharp features, and those intense, crimson eyes...he really would make a disturbingly convincing vampire.

To your surprise—and mild horror—Sylus flashed a wicked grin, clearly entertained by the whole situation. “A vampire, huh?” he mused, taking the plastic fangs from Tara’s hand and inspecting them. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, glinting with that all-too-familiar mischief. “I guess I can pull that off.”

He slid the fake teeth into his mouth with an exaggerated flourish, and somehow, even with cheap plastic fangs, he managed to look both ridiculous and annoyingly attractive at the same time. He bared his new "fangs" with a cheeky grin, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“See?” Tara beamed, clapping her hands together. “I told you! You look like you’ve been doing this your whole life!”

Sylus smirked, turning his attention back to you, his voice dropping to that low, teasing tone he always used to get under your skin. “I do make a rather convincing vampire, don’t I?” he said, flashing his fake fangs at you with a playful gleam in his eyes. “What do you think, kitten?”

You glared at him, half-annoyed, half-amused. “You’re lucky I don’t have garlic,” you muttered, sipping your drink to hide the smile tugging at your lips.

Tara, oblivious to the tension between the two of you, just giggled again and raised her empty glass. “I need another drink after that! I'm gonna go get another round,” she said, already walking back toward the bar.

As soon as Tara was out of earshot, Sylus’s demeanor shifted slightly. The playful grin remained, but now, with just the two of you, there was something darker, more intense in his expression. He stepped closer, his presence suddenly much more imposing.

“You know,” he began, his voice dropping to a low murmur as he closed the distance between you, “I think your friend is onto something” His eyes gleamed, locking onto yours with that wicked, teasing look you knew all too well.

Before you could react, he leaned in—so close that you could feel his warm breath on your neck. Your heart jumped in your chest, the sudden proximity sending a shiver down your spine. His breath was hot against your skin, teasing, as he lingered just inches from your neck, not touching you but close enough that goosebumps instantly rose along your arms.

You froze, every nerve in your body suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. The scent of him, a mix of something dark and enticing, filled your senses. Your pulse quickened, and you couldn’t hide the goosebumps now crawling up your skin.

He let his breath linger for just a moment longer before his lips curled into a smirk near your ear. “You might want to watch out, kitten,” he whispered, his voice a low, teasing growl. “I could get used to this.”

Your breath hitched, and you struggled to keep your composure, your pulse racing wildly. “Sylus…” you warned, trying to sound stern, but your voice betrayed the effect he was having on you.

He chuckled softly, clearly reveling in your reaction. Straightening up slightly, he didn’t step back but remained close, his crimson eyes still locked on yours. “What’s the matter?” he teased, his voice smooth and playful. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You glared at him, trying to mask the fact that your heart was still hammering in your chest. “Don’t start,” you muttered, forcing a glare, even though you could still feel the heat from where his breath had brushed your skin.

Sylus took a slow sip of his drink, his smirk never fading. “I wasn’t starting anything,” he said innocently, though the mischievous gleam in his eyes said otherwise. “Just playing the part.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes, but the warmth in your cheeks and the pounding of your heart betrayed you. “Just don’t bite anyone,” you shot back, trying to reclaim some control over the situation.

“No promises,” Sylus said, his voice soft but dangerous, his gaze lingering on you as if you were his prey.

Tara came bouncing back over to you with two martinis, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Hey! Want to dance?” she asked, already swaying to the music.

You barely hesitated, desperate for a way to escape the overwhelming tension with Sylus. “Yeah, sure,” you said, quickly taking the martini from Tara and downing a good portion of it. You could feel Sylus’s eyes on you, and when you glanced his way, he simply gave a slight nod, clearly content with watching you both from afar.

Your skin prickled under his gaze as you and Tara made your way toward the middle of the festival. The music was thumping, bodies swaying together under the dim, flickering lights. You still felt uneasy knowing Sylus was watching you, his presence like a shadow you couldn’t shake. But as the alcohol worked its way through your system, slowly loosening your limbs and dulling the tension, you started to let yourself get lost in the music. Tara twirled around you, laughing and dancing without a care in the world, and soon enough, you found yourself smiling and moving along with her.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but the warmth of the alcohol was settling into your bones, making everything seem a little hazier, a little easier. The bass pulsed through the air, the crowd a blur of costumes and laughter, and for a moment, you forgot about Sylus’s watchful eyes.

But eventually, a different need called your attention—you really had to pee.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you shouted over the music to Tara.

“I’ll come with you!” she offered, but you shook your head.

“No, no, it’s fine. Stay here! I’ll be right back.”

Tara shrugged, happily returning to her dancing as you weaved your way through the crowd, the cool night air hitting your flushed skin as you stepped away from the dance floor. Your steps were a little unsteady, and as you made your way to the row of porta potties set up near the back of the festival grounds, you blinked to clear your vision. Everything seemed a little...fuzzy. The alcohol was really kicking in now, and you swore the ground felt a little wobbly under your feet.

You managed to find an open porta potty, and after handling your business, you stepped out, blinking again as the world swayed in front of you. Shit...am I really this drunk? you thought, steadying yourself against the side of the porta potty for a moment. Your vision was blurry, and everything seemed a little too bright, a little too loud.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching. For a second, you thought it was Sylus. The height was wrong, but the dark outline and the way the man moved had you second-guessing yourself. Relief almost flooded through you, but then the figure got closer, and the sour, stale scent hit your nose.

No, this definitely wasn’t Sylus.

The man was much shorter, stockier, and as he came closer, you could smell him—like sweat and cheap cologne, mixed with the stench of too much booze. Your stomach churned uncomfortably as he stepped into your personal space, his breath hot and sour as he leaned in a little too close.

“Hey there,” he slurred, his voice dripping with false charm. “You look a little lost. Why don’t you come to my car? It’s parked just over there.”

Your heart jumped in your chest, and you instinctively stepped back, trying to put some distance between you and him. “No, I’m fine,” you said quickly, your voice shaky as you tried to move past him. But he stepped into your path, blocking you with an alarming quickness for someone who seemed so drunk.

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he said, his tone darkening, his hand reaching out to grab your arm. “It’ll be fun. I can show you a good time, little kitty.”

Panic surged through you as you tried to yank your arm away, stumbling slightly as your vision blurred again. The alcohol was making it hard to focus, and you cursed under your breath. “No, leave me alone!” you said, your voice firmer now as you tried to push past him.

But he wasn’t having it. His grip tightened, his face twisting with frustration. “I said come with me,” he growled, pulling harder.

Your pulse skyrocketed, fear taking over as you struggled to break free. Just as you were about to shout for help, a shadow loomed behind the man.

“I’d suggest you listen to her.”

That voice—it was low, cold, and unmistakable. You looked up, relief crashing through you like a wave as Sylus appeared, his tall figure practically radiating menace. The shorter man immediately let go of your arm, turning to face Sylus with a sneer, clearly trying to act tough despite the difference in size.

“And who the hell are you? I'm her boyfriend, fuck off” the man spat, puffing out his chest.

Sylus’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. “Is that so?” he asked, his voice low and deadly. Without another word, a cold red mist began to swirl around him, tendrils of it seeping through the air like something out of a nightmare. The temperature around you seemed to drop, and you could feel the mist growing denser, colder.

The drunken man didn’t seem to realize what was happening until it was too late. The red mist wrapped around him like a snake, tightening and choking him. His eyes bulged as he gasped for air, his grip on your arm loosening as fear took over.

Sylus didn’t stop. His eyes were locked on the man, his fury palpable as the mist constricted tighter.

The man’s face turned a sickly shade of purple as he clawed at the mist around his throat, desperately trying to break free. He gagged, his drunken bravado crumbling into pure terror.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice shaking as you stepped forward, grabbing Sylus’s arm. “Stop. You’re going to kill him...there's people all around us.”

Sylus’s eyes flicked to you, still cold and angry, but there was a flicker of hesitation. You could see the struggle behind his gaze, his fury barely held in check. But slowly, the mist around the man’s throat began to dissipate. Sylus released him, letting the man fall to the ground, coughing and wheezing as he scrambled to his feet.

The man didn’t waste a second. He stumbled away, terrified, mumbling incoherently as he disappeared into the crowd, wanting nothing more than to escape the nightmare he had just experienced.

Sylus’s shoulders tensed, his body still vibrating with anger as he watched the man retreat. His breathing was heavy, and though the mist had vanished, the chill in the air remained.

You stood there, your heart still racing, unsure whether to feel relieved or terrified by what had just happened. As Sylus turned toward you, you could see him trying to calm himself.

“My kitten,” he said softly, though his voice was still rough with residual anger, “is always getting herself into sticky situations.” He took a step closer, his usual smirk returning, though there was a hardness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “Good thing I’m a vampire tonight. I can sniff out when she gets herself in trouble.”

You managed a shaky laugh, though your heart was still pounding in your chest. “You didn’t have to almost kill him,” you muttered, trying to regain your composure.

Sylus shrugged, his eyes softening as he looked you over, checking to make sure you were truly alright. “He deserved worse,” he said, though his tone was lighter now. “But I’ll behave. For you.”

Sylus suddenly glanced down at his watch, his expression hardening almost instantly. Without warning, he turned to you and, in a firm voice, announced, “We’re leaving.”

You blinked, confused. “What? Leaving? Why? What about Tara?”

But Sylus didn’t bother explaining. He grabbed your arm with a sense of urgency, pulling you away from the festival and weaving through the crowd. You tried to dig your feet into the ground, but with the alcohol still lingering in your system, your balance wasn’t on your side. “Hey! What about Tara?” you protested, struggling to keep up with his swift pace.

Sylus barely glanced back at you as he strode toward a sleek, black car parked near the edge of the festival grounds. “Luke and Kieran are taking her home,” he replied coolly, unlocking the car with a flick of his wrist. “Behave, and get inside.”

You planted your feet, halting in your tracks as you shook your head, confused and frustrated. “Wait—what? Why are we leaving so suddenly? I don’t—”

But Sylus wasn’t in the mood for a debate. He turned, his eyes flashing with irritation, and in one swift motion, he pushed the car door open, his grip on your arm tightening slightly as he guided you into the passenger seat. You tried to resist, squirming under his firm hold.

“Get in the car,” he sighed, clearly not in the mood to argue. “Please.”

After a bit more struggle—your alcohol-fueled frustration not making it easy—you finally huffed in defeat and let him guide you into the seat. He shut the door behind you with a sharp click before rounding the car and sliding into the driver’s seat.

You sulked in silence as he started the engine, the low hum of the car doing little to soothe your frustration. You didn’t understand why Sylus was being so forceful all of a sudden, and the abruptness of it all only added to the confusion swirling in your mind. The alcohol still clouded your thoughts, making it hard to argue, and as the car began to move, the steady rhythm of the ride lulled you into an unexpected calm.

Your eyelids grew heavy, and despite the tension of the night, you found yourself slowly drifting off. The next thing you knew, darkness had settled around you, and your body slipped into a deep, alcohol-fueled sleep.

When you woke, you felt yourself being carried, the world around you shifting. The first thing you noticed was Sylus’s steady, strong grip beneath you, his arms holding you close as he walked. You blinked groggily, your vision clearing slightly as you realized you were no longer at the festival—or in the car.

Sylus was carrying you through the dim, industrial halls of his home in the N109 Zone. The walls were dark and sleek, bathed in a soft glow from the faint lights overhead. The cold, sterile air of the house prickled against your skin, sobering you up a little more as you processed what was happening.

A wave of frustration hit you. With your head clearer now, you reached up and pinched his cheek, your fingers digging in as you muttered, “Asshole.”

Sylus let out a soft grunt of surprise, glancing down at you with a bemused look. “Still feisty, I see,” he murmured, though there was an amused glint in his eyes. “How unfortunate that the nap didn't dull your attitude".

You scowled, still annoyed by the way he had just whisked you away without any explanation. “You dragged me away from the festival without even telling me why,” you muttered, your voice sharper now that you were more awake. “What the hell, Sylus?”

He just chuckled softly, ignoring the sting from your pinch. “You were in no state to argue,” he said simply, his tone matter-of-fact as he carried you further into his home. “And I had enough of babysitting you the whole night.”

“Well I didn't ask you to watch me,” you grumbled, though your body still felt heavy with the lingering effects of alcohol. You squirmed a little in his arms, trying to free yourself, but his grip on you was steady and unyielding.

“You can complain all you want, kitten,” he said with a smirk, “but you needed to get out of there. Trust me.”

You huffed, more irritated now. “Don’t call me kitten,” you muttered, glaring up at him through half-lidded eyes. It was bad enough that he always teased you with that nickname—tonight, it felt like he was deliberately rubbing salt in the wound.

Sylus glanced down at you, his smirk deepening into a mischievous grin. “Why not?” he asked, his voice soft, teasing, as his eyes traveled over your outfit. “You’re dressed like one tonight. Seems even more fitting than usual, doesn’t it?”

Sylus carried you effortlessly through the halls of his home until he reached his room. He set you down gently on the large, plush bed, its softness immediately pulling you in. The sheets felt cool against your skin as you sank into them, your body still heavy with the lingering effects of alcohol.

You watched as Sylus moved across the room, grabbing a glass of water from a nearby table and bringing it back to the nightstand beside the bed. “Drink this,” he said, his voice less teasing now, more gentle. “You’ll feel better in the morning. Go to sleep.”

You rolled your eyes but obediently took a sip, the cool water soothing your dry throat. As you placed the glass back down, you realized that the fog in your mind was starting to lift. You weren’t as drunk as you had been earlier—your head was clearer now, though you were still feeling bold enough to be a little reckless.

Sylus walked across the room, settling into a large leather chair near the window, watching you from a distance. He leaned back, his crimson eyes glinting in the low light, clearly still on edge after the events of the night.

But something stirred inside you—a spark of mischievousness born from the alcohol still lingering in your system. You narrowed your eyes at him, thinking of how he had pulled you away from the festival without warning, how he always teased you, and how you could never seem to one-up him. Maybe now was your chance.

You slid out of bed and onto all fours, quietly crawling toward him. Sylus raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but cautious. “What are you doing?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and warning.

You didn’t answer. Instead, when you reached him, you rested your face against his legs and set your head down in his lap, rubbing your cheek against him in a way that could only be described as cat-like.

For a moment, Sylus just stared at you, processing what you were doing. Then, a low chuckle escaped his lips, and he leaned forward slightly, looking down at you with amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Not only are you dressed like a cat,” he said, his voice laced with playful sarcasm, “but now you’ve decided to act like one too.”

You smirked to yourself, feeling triumphant in your little act of rebellion. “I’m just embracing the part,” you murmured, your voice teasing as you nuzzled your face slightly against his legs.

Sylus’s hand twitched slightly, and for a moment, you wondered if he would push you away—but he didn’t. Instead, he just watched you, his gaze sharp and curious, though there was a flicker of something darker beneath his playful expression.

“Careful, kitten,” he said softly, his voice dropping to that low, dangerous tone that always made your pulse race. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

You glanced up at him, meeting his gaze, the mischief still swirling inside you. “And what if I am?” you challenged, pushing yourself just a little further, enjoying the way his body tensed beneath you.

Sylus’s crimson eyes darkened, his smirk fading slightly as he studied you more closely. There was something electric in the air between you now, the tension palpable as he weighed his next move.

“You’re bold tonight,” he said, his voice softer now, more serious. “Bolder than usual.”

You just smiled up at him, feeling a rush of satisfaction at having thrown him off balance, even if only slightly. “Maybe it’s the cat costume,” you teased, still resting your head in his lap. “Or maybe it’s just you.”

Sylus’s eyes darkened, his smirk growing more predatory as he leaned down slightly, closing the distance between your faces. He looked at you with a gleam of amusement and hunger, his tone shifting to something deeper, more commanding.

“Since you’re feeling so bold,” he said softly, his voice dripping with a dangerous edge, “you should have no problem mewling a little for me then, hm?”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, the sudden shift in tone making your pulse race even faster. The way he looked at you, his gaze intense and unwavering, made your skin prickle with nervous anticipation. He wasn’t playing around anymore. The teasing had escalated, and now he was testing you, pushing you to see how far you would go.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, a mix of defiance and something else stirring within you. The tension between you two had never been more palpable, and in that moment, it felt like a line was being drawn—a challenge you weren’t sure if you wanted to accept or retreat from.

Sylus leaned back slightly, his expression amused as he watched the gears turn in your head. “What’s the matter?” he teased, though his voice was softer now, coaxing. “Cat got your tongue?"

You smirked at Sylus’s challenge, the mischievous spark in your eyes growing even brighter. Fine, you thought, two can play at that game.

Without hesitation, you leaned into the role he was teasing you about, doubling down on your boldness. You let out a soft, playful meow, pawing at his legs like a mischievous cat. The alcohol still buzzing in your system only made it easier to fully embrace the act, and you were determined to throw him off balance—if only for a moment.

Sylus raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised at how far you were willing to take the game, but his smirk never wavered. If anything, it deepened as he watched you with amusement, his crimson eyes twinkling with intrigue. “Oh, so we’re really doing this?” he murmured, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

You meowed again, more dramatically this time, your hands pawing at his pants as you looked up at him with exaggerated innocence. You could see the amusement in his eyes, and you knew you had him—at least for now. Deciding to push the limits, you got even closer, deciding to rub your face against his half hard cock hidden beneath his jeans.

Seems he was more affected than he was letting on.

With a mocking grin, Sylus reached down and ran his hand gently over the top of your head, as if petting you like a real cat. “You must be very drunk,” he teased, his voice light and playful. “Acting like a kitten and now letting me pet you? I need a camera.”

But before he could pull his hand away, you leaned forward and bit him—lightly, but enough to make a point. He barely reacted before withdrawing his hand, his eyes widening with mock surprise as he looked down at you.

“Oh?,” Sylus said with a chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “You even bite too? What an unpredictable little kitten I have”

You grinned up at him, feeling victorious in your rebellion, the mixture of alcohol and adrenaline making you bolder than ever. “I warned you not to underestimate me,” you teased, your eyes still locked on his, enjoying the game far more than you expected.

Sylus’s playful smirk returned, though there was an undeniable glint of something darker in his gaze. “I think you've forgotten something though” he said softly, leaning forward slightly, his voice dropping lower.

"I bite back.”

Your pulse quickened, but you kept your grin in place, unwilling to back down now. The tension between the two of you was palpable, the playful teasing quickly evolving into something far more intense. You had started this game, and now you were both caught in it.

But for now, you weren’t ready to back down. “I think I can handle it,” you replied, your voice light but laced with challenge.

Sylus’s eyes flickered with amusement, but the edge in his gaze remained. “Is that so?”

Before you could react, Sylus stood up abruptly, his towering presence looming over you. Caught off guard, you stumbled backward, landing on your elbows. Instinctively, you began to scoot back, trying to put some distance between you and his intense gaze, but there was nowhere to go. You felt the cool sheets of the bed press against your back as you found yourself cornered, unable to escape the situation you'd playfully started.

Sylus took a slow step forward, his eyes locked on yours, predatory and amused. He enjoyed how you had pushed him, but now it seemed like the tables had turned. You bit your lip, feeling your heart race in a way that wasn’t just from fear or excitement—it was something more.

“Sylus,” you said, your voice half-teasing, half-nervous, “you’re not really going to—” But the words caught in your throat as he leaned over you, his face inches from yours, cutting off any space for escape.

You were about to plead again, but your voice faltered as he lowered himself closer, his breath warm against your skin. “Why so nervous now?” he teased, his voice low and dangerous, echoing your earlier defiance.

You opened your mouth to say something, but the intensity in his gaze rendered you speechless. Instead, all you could do was look at him, your breath catching in your throat as the air around you thickened with anticipation.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice softer now, though the predatory edge was still there, lingering just beneath the surface.

You nodded again, almost breathless. “Y-yes,” you whispered.

Without waiting another moment, Sylus’s lips were on yours. The kiss was slow at first, his hand coming up to cradle your face gently, despite the tension hanging in the air. You melted into the kiss, your mind swimming as his lips moved against yours with a mixture of tenderness and hunger. It was as if he was savoring every second.

But then his lips trailed down, leaving a hot path along your jawline, and before you knew it, he was at your neck. You shuddered, the sensation making your pulse quicken, and just as the heat spread through you, you felt a sharp sting—his teeth sinking into your skin.

You gasped, a groan escaping your lips as the bite sent a jolt of pain through your body. Your hands instinctively gripped the sheets beneath you as your body tensed, your head spinning with the mixture of pain and adrenaline. Sylus’s teeth sank in deeper for just a moment, the pressure sharp but somehow electrifying.

Then, just as suddenly, he pulled back, giving you a moment to catch your breath. His crimson eyes gleamed as he watched your reaction, a smirk playing on his lips.

“What?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he ran his thumb over the spot on your neck where he had bitten you. “You thought I was joking?”

You opened your mouth, trying to find the words, but before you could speak, Sylus leaned in close again, his breath hot against your ear. “Be still,” he murmured, his tone soft but commanding. “You can handle it. Just like you said.”

Your pulse pounded in your ears, and though the bite had hurt, there was something about his voice, his presence, that made you want to give in. Despite yourself, you found your body relaxing under his touch, your breath steadying as you nodded again, almost instinctively.

Sylus smiled, his lips brushing against your neck once more. “Good girl,” he whispered before trailing soft kisses along your skin, his hands firm but gentle as they held you in place.

Before you could respond, his teeth sank into your skin again, this time in a different spot. The bite was just as sharp, if not sharper, and you gasped, your back arching involuntarily as another jolt of pain shot through you. The sting was immediate, but beneath it, there was a strange thrill, an intensity that made your heart race.

Your hands gripped the sheets even tighter as he bit down harder, holding the pressure for a few seconds longer this time. Warm tears begin to pour down your face. The sensation of his teeth against your skin left you both groaning in pain and caught in something deeper, more electric. Each mark he left felt like a brand, a reminder of just how much control he had over you in this moment.

Sylus didn’t pull back right away; instead, he lingered at your neck, sucking gently at the new mark he’d made, as if savoring the taste of your skin. Your breath hitched in your throat, your body trembling beneath him, torn between the sharp sting of the bite and the warmth that followed in its wake.

When he finally released you, he trailed slow, deliberate kisses over the fresh mark, his tongue grazing your skin in a way that made your head spin. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the possessive way his hands held you in place as if daring you to protest.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t. All you could do was lay there, breathless, as the intensity of it all washed over you.

Sylus looked down at you, his gaze full of smug satisfaction as he admired the new set of marks he’d left on your neck. His thumb grazed over them gently, tracing the outlines of his bites as if claiming you in some silent, unspoken way.

“You wear my marks well,” he said softly, his voice laced with amusement. “Perhaps you should challenge me more often, kitten.”

Unable to respond, you watch as his lips makes contact with yours again, gentle but devastating. Every nerve in your body sings for him at the contact, and you feel more warm tears finally slip from your eyes to drip down between your lips and his. He pulls back to look at you, wiping those tears away and sighing in pleasure at whatever expression he finds on your face. You curl your fingers in his shirt and tug him back to you, wanting to savor this, but also wanting more, so much more.

Your tongue slips past his, and your fingers tangle into the back of his hair of their own accord. He moans, honest to god moans into your mouth at the contact, and any pretense either of you may have had about this being only a kiss simply evaporates. His mouth moves more insistently against yours, hand cradling the entire side of your face, and you finally allow your hips to push forward, finding him fully hard this time.

He suddenly leans back and pulls his shirt over his head one-handed in a smooth, practiced motion. It's the hottest fucking thing you've ever seen. If you didn't know that almost certainly mind-blowing sex is soon to follow, you'd swear that there's nothing better on this earth than watching Sylus strip his own shirt off to bare that sinful chest.

He smirks down at you, resting one hand on your hipbone and snaking the other to the waistband of his pants, but that's more than you can take right now. You hook your legs around the back of his and pull him down, desperate, and you shudder as his clothed erection is finally brought flush against your arousal.

"Sylus, please," you whine, trusting that he knows what you're begging for. His fingers tighten and relax on your hip as if by reflex, and you can barely think straight around your need to have him inside you.

"You're sure?" he huffs, capturing your mouth again, and you'd laugh if you weren't fit to combust from desire.

"God, I'm sure." You don't think you've ever wanted anything more in your life, to be honest.

Sylus's lips pull up into another satisfied smirk against yours, and his fingers dig into your flesh with intent this time as he leans back again. "Maybe we should wait until you're more sober-"

"No!" you interrupt him, probably too quickly, and he quirks an eyebrow again. "Um, I mean...I'm good."

"You're good?" he asks, and fuck, it's so hard to think around this insistent, burning desire. You could sense his small hesitation and become desperate to ease his worries surrounding your state of mind.

"Yeah," you tell him again, as pointedly as you can while impatient with lust. "The nap really helped, I'm okay."

He hesitates a moment longer, and you feel like your about to combust with need.

"Sylus. I want you. All of you." You reach a hand out to cup the length of him through his pants, delighting in the narrowing in his eyes and the shudder that goes through him. A sudden thrill of confidence has you saying the filthiest thing you've ever said before you can stop yourself.

"I want you to cum inside me. Please."

You think the look in his eyes might be a little bit feral as he turns his full attention back to your body, tugging your skirt . He slips his fingers into your panties with no preamble, and he sighs appreciatively at the slick he feels there. "You've wanted this for a long time, haven't you?"

He's going to drive you insane, and when you tell him as much, his only response is to tear the garment down your legs, toss it behind him, and press two fingers inside of you. You choke and gasp his name as he grins wickedly down at you.

"Yeah, you have." He presses deeper, thumb brushing your clit, and you can't hold back a desperate cry.

"Sylus, please-"

"Fuck..." His eyes trail down to where his fingers are buried, and you'd be self-conscious if you had even a single brain cell to spare that isn't consumed by pleasure. "Do you know how long I've wanted this, gorgeous? The second I saw you in that costume I wanted to tear it off".

You can only gasp and buck your hips shamelessly as he continues, murmuring encouragement and looking both as smug and as charming as he ever has. This feels so good, so unreal, his slender fingers hitting all the right spots inside you while his thumb continues rubbing lazy circles outside. You can hardly believe that the same fingers your eyes have lingered on as they hold bullets or curl around a trigger - the same hands you've seen kill countless times - are now the gentle architects of your mind-numbing pleasure.

"Come on, that's it," Sylus coos with a particularly delicious quirk of those fingers, pulling you out of hazy memories and back to what you realize is now an imminent orgasm. Your eyes drag from the stark outline of his erection against his pants, up his chest and to his face, where you catch him biting his lip in his concentration.

"Sylus-" Your hips buck against his hand as the tension coils inside you. "I'm-"

"I know. Go head and cum kitten," he says with another devilish grin, and god, he's going to be the end of you.

"Sylus," you gasp again, reduced to this mindless desperation as his talented fingers work you while your release hovers just out of reach. "Please, I'm-"

He finally takes pity on you and ducks his head to seal his mouth over your clit, and fuck, what you wouldn't give for more of that, but after all this build-up, one brush of his tongue is all it takes to send you hurtling over the edge. Both of your hands fist in his hair as you shudder under him, gasping and keening, and you feel him groan against your sensitive flesh.

Eventually, he pulls away, though it takes you several more seconds to come back to earth. When you open your eyes, it's to find him stripped down to nothing, hovering over you again with a self-satisfied expression.

"God," you say, still not recovered, and then, because you can't help it, your eyes drop to his cock. It's as beautiful as the rest of him, rigid and straining for you. Your core throbs again as you realize that getting you off is what got him this worked up. Fuck.

How as that possibly going to fit?

"It'll fit, don't worry" he says, as if able to read your mind. You don't even have to look at him to know that he's grinning.

You groan and throw an arm over your eyes to resist the very real temptation to stare at Sylus's naked body for the rest of your life. You feel him move closer, dropping down onto his palms above you, and you lift your arm to watch him settle between your thighs like he's always belonged there.

"You want to do this?" he asks softly, red eyes searching yours for one last confirmation, and you respond with a few tiny, shaky nods. He brushes his thumb across your bottom lip with a quiet sigh. "Let me hear you say it, beautiful."

"Yes, Sylus," you plead, tears burning again at the corners of your eyes, and he hums his pleasure against your lips as he lines himself up. You inhale sharply through your teeth as you feel the first breach of his cock, holding that breath in your lungs as he slowly sinks in to the hilt. Christ, he's big.

"Breathe, kitten" he reminds you, still disarmingly gentle, though you can see the smug satisfaction plainly on his face. He braces himself on his forearms to pepper kisses along your neck and jaw, pulling out to slowly slide back in with a deep groan.

Your hands fist in his hair, and you think you might be onto something with that when his chuckle melts into a moan. He eyes lock onto yours as he buries himself as deep as he can again, and you're taken aback by the open adoration you see on his face - you can only hope your own face is mirroring that for him.

He slides out and in again, again, slowly falling into a steady rhythm that's better than anything you've ever felt in your life. For an endless time, there's nothing else - it's just the two of you, bodies coming together in pleasure, the occasional rougher thrust making you gasp his name as he mouths yours against your skin.

Sylus's hips suddenly still and he drops his head beside yours, heavy breaths hot against your ear. You shift underneath him, relishing the feel of his length still thick inside you but needy for him to move.

"Just need a second," he pants, sounding as wrecked as you feel. "I'm not ready to be done with you yet, sweetie."

And oh, if your heart (and your aethercore) could explode from words alone, those would do it. The most divine human being you've ever known is lying here staving off an orgasm so that he can keep fucking you. And he just called you sweetie.

Yeah, you're totally dead and gone.

You lie there for a few moments, matching your breaths to his and kneading your fingers into the firm planes of his back. An appreciative groan rumbles out of him, and he pulls back to slide out of you, silencing your noise of protest with a finger to your lips and a low chuckle.

"You'll get what you want," he admonishes, grasping one of your hips to give it a slight push. "Patience, kitten"

He leans back, and you catch a glimpse of his cock, hard against the vee of his hips and glistening with your wetness. Fuck. You shift your legs apart, and he's back on you immediately, one hand digging into the flesh of your ass and the other bracing itself next to your shoulder.

"Good girl," Sylus breathes into your ear, and you go boneless as he sheathes himself in your slick heat once more. "Good fucking girl, taking me so well."

You're beyond being able to respond to his filthy praise with anything other than gasps and moans, but he doesn't seem to mind, taking them as encouragement to fuck you even harder and bring your bodies flush together. When his hips snap forward, driving him deep, deeper, you swear you see stars. God, this angle is otherworldly, his cock hitting your most sensitive spot with each perfect thrust. Your hands cling desperately to his biceps, feeling those mouthwatering muscles ripple as he holds you tighter. Sylus's fingers wrap gently around your neck as his teeth nip your ear, and you cry out, feeling a familiar heat and tension begin to build within you.

"So close again?" he growls, each breath harsh as he fucks into you. "Shit...feels so fucking good."

Yeah, you're fucking close, if the steady stream of "yes" and "please" pouring from your lips and the almost painful way you're gripping his cock is anything to go on. You might even be sobbing now, who the fuck knows. His fingers clench against the pulse jumping in your neck, and there it is-

You glance up at him, muscles taut as he thrusts, and it's over for you, even before his eyes flick up to yours as he breathes,

"Cum for me."

Your body shakes against him as another orgasm barrels through you, and you think you might actually scream this time, which is a shame because you're sure Sylus is saying some delectable shit to you right now. He doesn't let up, cock still pounding into you relentlessly, and when you finally come down from your high, it's to find his moans coming out broken and his thrusts rougher than ever. He's close. He's right there. You're not sure what possesses you in that moment, but you reach a hand between your bodies and close your fingers gently around his balls. Your efforts are rewarded with stuttering hips and a glorious, drawn-out groan as Sylus cums hard, his face shoved roughly into your shoulder.

You take a moment as he pants against you, the aftershocks of your own orgasm still thrumming through you, to stare at the ceiling in disbelief that this is real life. You just had sex with Sylus. The leader of Onychinus. You're desperately in love with him and he might just feel the same about you.

When his hips finally still and he stops panting into your skin, you begin guide his face closer to yours, relishing the way he rests his full weight on top of you without thinking, dazed as he is in his own pleasure. He pulls your face toward his to capture your lips in another blistering kiss, this one unexpectedly tender after his ferocity only moments ago, and you moan softly through it at the feel of his cock still solid inside you.

You both catch your breath against the pillows for a few moments before he whispers that he's going to pull out, and you brace yourself for that final slide of his cock. Fuck, that should not feel as good as it does, especially considering that in the same second you have to clench your thighs to keep his release inside of you. Sylus lays on his back beside you with a sigh of contentment, and you turn carefully to lie right alongside him. You slide your hand over to his, not sure why you're feeling shy about this when you just got done being thoroughly fucked by him, but you feel relieved all the same when his fingers intertwine with yours.

Your breaths slow as you both lie quietly in the afterglow, and after a time, he turns to face you.

"I trust it goes without saying that you're welcome to stay as long as you like," he says, brushing your hair back from your face, and all of your emotions come rushing back. You love him. You love him.

"What if I never want to leave?" you whisper, and now it's spoken, now it's out there for him to do with as he will. He studies you for a long moment, and it could just be the light of the room reflecting in those red eyes, but you think you see them glistening.

"I think that could be arranged," he finally says, his voice as full of emotion as you've ever heard it, and you feel as though you're drowning in your love for this man. You swallow past the lump in your throat and throw him as playful a smile as you can manage.

"Well, that's good, because I feel your cum slipping out of me. Might need to put more back in there" you say, emboldened by his now obvious desire for you, but still feeling bashful as you say it. Both of his eyebrows shoot up, and he laughs, a deep, indulgent sound.

"Careful," he purrs, wrapping both arms around you like a vice. "Might get me going again."

"Plenty of time for that later," you tell him, leaning forward to bury yourself in his chest again, hoping your words carry the weight of the three specific ones you're still too embarrassed to say out loud.

"And more," he murmurs in your ear, arms tightening around you, his words sounding an awful lot like an unspoken affirmation to your unspoken vow.

This wasn't such a bad Halloween after all.

#umi writes ♡︎#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace smut #sylus #sylus x reader smut #lads #l&ds smut #sylus love and deepspace #lnds sylus #love and deep space sylus #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #lnds #sylus qin #lads smut #lads scenarios #sylusposting

1K notes · View notes

karenchasity · 1 month ago

Text

God as my witness - Out of the Depths of Hell - chapter one

content and trigger warnings- blood/gore, death, involuntary manslaughter, first degree murder, swearing (of course)

The plan would be simple. They get in, he.. pisses himself, supposably, and they get out. And he leaves them alone until graduation. That was the plan. that would stay the plan.

Grace grins at them as she explains herself. She points around the whiteboard in her room as she talks, carefully detailing exactly how the night would go.

- She unlocks the Waylon Hall. Her dad is the realtor, he has the keys.

- They get inside. Richie will set up two stationary camera angles, one facing the door, one facing where Ruth will be as the skeleton, if that has to happen. Richie will film the entire process.

- Ruth and Pete will change into their respective costumes. Grace and Steph will find where they need to sit to be hidden from Max the whole time.

- Richie finds the angle he needs to film Max as he moves through the room.

- Max arrives. Richie films.

- They let Max call for Steph. He calls for almost thirty seconds before Pete jumps out to scare him.

- He gets scared. If he doesn’t, send Ruth.

- Prosper.

Steph doesn’t think it’ll work, if she’s honest. There are too many variables, not enough for-sures. She texts Max anyway, and shows up at The Waylon Place exactly when she’s supposed to.

Grace unlocks the Waylon Hall. If everything goes to plan, her dad will never even notice they had stepped foot on the property.

It’s dark- Steph figured that much- and it’s wet. It hadn’t rained in days. She can’t pin point if it smells like mold or not. She figures it must, if she can’t tell. Pete winces as the floorboards creak. She finds herself having to stop herself from reaching for him, for Ruth and richie. grace seems to know exactly where to step to be quiet. she points at a weak board and tells them quietly to avoid it.

They get inside. Richie will set up two stationary camera angles, one facing the door, one facing where Ruth will be as the skeleton, if that has to happen. Richie will film the entire process.

Steph doesn’t know where Grace got the cameras she hands Richie. She figures she probably doesn’t want to ask. They seem to be good quality- they look similar to the ones her dad uses for interviews sometimes. They’re good cameras, and based on Richie’s squeal, he’s never held something so expensive. He's gentle with them as he and Ruth set up the tripods in dark corners. There are plenty of dark corners in the waylon hall. Both Ruth and Richies disappear as they work.

Richie turns on the third camera with a grin.

Ruth and Pete will change into their respective costumes. Grace and Steph will find where they need to sit to be hidden from Max the whole time.

Ruth is a skeleton- a shitty costume from spirit halloween that grace had bought that morning. Her mask fogs up and gets wet in nearly thirty seconds. Steph watches her quietly, carefully ignoring Pete stripping on the other side of the room. She doesn’t need to look at him. That'll make it all worse.

He’s a ghost. The costume is a combination of three or four different ones that were probably out of Grace’s basement. Stephs pretty sure she doesn’t want to ask about them. They don’t seem clean. Pete's hands shake, and they make eye contact. Richie is saying something, waving his hands wildly. Pete flushes, and snaps at his friend quietly. Richie's arms drop, seemingly defeated. Grace grabs her arm with a grin, pointing to their hiding spot. Steph nods, and Grace dashes back off.

Richie finds the angle he needs to film Max as he moves through the room.

Steph’s pretty sure Richies had the angle since they got there. He practices his movement, mapping out exactly where Pete will be, where Max should be, when, why- all to himself, just too quiet to understand. Pete watches him, fiddling with the strings on his costume. Ruth has herself shoved in a corner with her bag, headphones on high. Steph has to wonder if this will give any of them a heart attack. Then, she wonders if she cares.

She does.

Max arrives. Richie films.

Max gets to The Waylon Hall early. Pete is barely out of sight when he bursts through the door, calling for Steph. repeatedly. She wonders if there's anything in this place that him yelling could wake up. Anger. She figures it doesn’t matter.

Pete steps out. Max, to his credit, doesn’t freak. She remembers, once, that Max was scared of stuff like this. like, terrified. ..They were seven. It's fine. It'll be fine.

*********

Max yelps, and backs away, talking loudly. He says something to himself, stomps a beer can, and charges. Pete yelps, shutting his jaw and all but jumping off the stair he’s on into a small hole, knocking into a camera, much to Richie’s audible displeasure. Max grins, flexing as he crows about his supposed victory. He didn’t seem to notice richies groan or the camera falling. Steph bites her lip, glancing at Grace, who seems displeased.

Steph decides this is where the plan is beginning to go off the rails.

Ruth is sent out, visibly trembling, and despite Max’s initial, incredible strong fear, he doesn’t see to have any qualms with charging her, too. He shouts something about his dad and.. cucking, and grabs Ruth's shitty costume shirt. Grace grins suddenly, pulling her phone out to personally film the encounter.

Max doesn’t get to do much more than spit in the skele’ens face before Steph decides she needs to do something. Anything. She tears herself away from Grace, and calls to Max.

His first reaction, weirdly, is to throw Ruth to the side and grab Steph, wrapping his arm around her almost protectively. It reminds her for a second of how he used to. Before he was Max Jagerman. He's shaking.

“We gotta get outta here, Annie, it’s not safe. This place is hella haunted.”

Steph groans. “Its not real, stupid! That's not a ghost, it’s-” Pete steps out, and she almost falters. He looks different, with his glasses off. “It’s Peter Spankoffski.”

Max blinks down at her, then at Pete, then at Ruth, who’s maskless and standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Richie, who doesn’t seem to be filming anymore. Grace is standing a few feet away, fuming. Max perks up.

“Wait.. you nerds did this for me?” He sounds like his dad. Collectively, they nod slowly. Max grins. “Man, really? ..Huh. Maybe y’aren’t so nerdy.” Pete scratches at his neck. Max’s attention snaps to the movement, pointing at Pete excitedly. “The ghost! oh, you came out, dude, and my heart was like, pounding!” He smacks his chest for emphasis. Pete flinches, but manages a smile. Max’s grin grows. Steph wonders if his tail would be wagging, if he had one. He looks almost dopey.

Max whips around, grinning now at Ruth, who shuffles behind Richie anxiously. Max points at her, climbing up onto the stairs for emphasis as he speaks, “Dude, the skele’un?” Ruth winces, eyes wide and trained not on Max’s face, but his fists. “That? was really special. bravo, Fleming.” He bows, seemingly only half serious, leaning just so on the board of the stair he stands on.

And he falls. Richies camera hits the floor with a slightly metallic thunk as the stair boards snap and Max screams as he drops into what must be total darkness. He screams like he used to, when Steph and Kyle would team up on him in sports before he was twice their size. Like he used to, when Alice Woodward would tell them scary stories. Like he used to, when they were young.

And then, the screaming stops. And theres nothing. If steph didn’t know any better, she would’ve jumped down the hole after him. She wouldn’t have bothered with the stairs that Richie pulls her down.

***

Max is.. not good, when they manage to get light in the basement. Grace warned them not to go down here that morning. Steph agrees. Richies phone flash is the first to illuminate Max. Or, what was Max.

There's a board snapped in half sticking out of his abdomen. It's the first, and for a second only thing she can see. The board, covered in blood and guts and dust and dirt and Max can’t recover from that, can he?

A stabbing is bad. her dad taught her that, when she was younger. Max stares at her, alarmed. Nobody’s moving. Stabbing is bad, but manageable. Impalement is bad, and not manageable. Impalement is rarely survivable, depending on the object. She watches her step as she moves towards him.

He doesn’t react to her voice, or her touch. He doesn’t react to Grace, or Pete or Ruth. Even Richie gets close, nothing. Steph has to wonder if he’s already dead, from shock or blood loss or something thats wrong with him. He's breathing, his heart is beating, but he doesn’t look alive.

He blinks. Grace huffs. “Steph.”

“Max,” she murmurs. “You’re okay, Max.”

“I'm.. gonna die, Steph.”

Steph flinches, forcing his gaze away from his injury. “You’re okay,” she repeats. “We’re going to get help. Pete's going to call an ambulance.” She says it more to point Pete where he should go. The shape of the boy doesn’t move in the corner of her eye. Max’s chest slows.

“Don’t,” he murmurs. “Don’t bother. ‘sa lotta money.”

She rolls her eyes. “I don't care how much money it costs, Max. We’re going to get you help.”

He doesn’t respond for a moment. Then, “‘kay. ‘m sorry.”

Keeping one hand on his cheek, Steph combs her hand through his hair. The gel in it is starting to lose its hold, and she breaks up any remaining chunks keeping his curls back. If he’s going to die, she’ll see him as Max first. “You’re gonna be okay,” she promises quietly. “We’re gonna keep you safe.”

Max closes his eyes for a moment. Had he not been wheezing, it would’ve made her panic.

Then, his eyes snap open, staring directly at Ruth across the room. She yelps quietly, moving to hide behind Richie, who hides behind Pete. Pete doesn’t move, eyes trained on Max's stomach.

“You.” Max's voice is loud and guttural, his eyes are bright. “You fucking nerds did this to me. You stupid, nerdy prudes.”

Steph blinks, pulling back in shock before she can even decide to. Max keeps speaking. “I’m going to die, and it’s your fault. Your fault, for bringing me here,” He seems to be using the last of his life to be mean. Violent. “Your fault, for trying to scare me. Your fault for killing me. It is your. Fault.”

He doesn’t say anything else. there's a small amount of blood on his lips, from his.. innards or from biting his cheek while he fell, she’s not sure. His letterman is soaked and torn, his shirt is nearly gone around the board in his chest. There's a tear running down his cheek, tinted pink. Stephs eyes can’t stay on his face very long.

She looks back down at his chest, gone still. He’s not breathing. Stephs not sure whether she should cry or scream or run. She doesn’t know what to do at all. She checks his pulse with a shaky hand, and finds nothing. She's not surprised.

Pete wraps a hand around hers, tugging her away from Max, away from Max’s body. From the body. She’s pulled far enough away that she can’t see him anymore. She stays to the side while Grace pulls bleach, an ax and tarp from a small hole in the floor.

She’s handed the ax, Grace smiles at her gently, and she’s directed to the body. There are already… pieces, spread out across the floor. The body’s head is gone, its arms are too. There's one leg left. Grace points her to it, and demonstrates how to bring the ax down hard enough to get the leg away.

She obeys. Grace's hands are on her shoulders as she brings the blade down, and finishes the job. She doesn’t know who did the head. She doesn’t want to.

She doesn’t want to know she even did this. She helps put the body in the hole, and ignores whatever Grace is saying. They’re all shaking. Grace seems to be ignoring the tears streaming down her cheeks on purpose.

They disperse quickly and quietly. Pete promises they’ll meet in the library in the morning.

Sleep doesn't come easy once she gets home. She debates calling Jason, or Stacy, but she decides that even speaking to them after what she’s just done.. she doesn’t think she could. She doesn’t call either of them. She wonders how devastated the four of them will be when they find out Max is.. gone.

She cries herself to sleep, if she sleeps at all.

#hi chat #starkid #hatchetfield #raspberry writes #i curse the day #out of the depths of hell #ictd

651 notes · View notes

codfishing · 30 days ago

Text

Pairings: ghoap x single mom!reader

TW: just a fluffy meet-cute on Halloween

You were starting to lose hope as you tried to find a neighborhood that actually participated in Halloween; it was your favorite holiday and you wanted to make sure your kiddo’s first trick-or-treating experience was a good one.

But you found a bustling neighborhood and your spirits lifted as you parked your car along the edge, happily unbuckling your daughter and making your way into the neighborhood.

Your daughter was fascinated by everything, and was surprisingly unfazed by the decorations, including the scarier ones, and she was especially interested in the costumes of the people milling about the neighborhood.

She was especially interested in the man dressed as a skeleton sitting at the end of his driveway with another man whom you assumed was his husband dressed in a kilt.

You waited at the edge of the driveway and told your daughter what to say, and she immediately went up to the man in the skeleton costume, staring up at him silently as they both cooed over her Belle dress.

After a few moments you nervously called out, “Baby, it’s rude to stare. What do we say?”

“Thank you!” She said loudly, prompting another laugh from the two men and you take a couple steps forward, smiling.

“No no, sweetie, say ‘trick or treat’,” You corrected gently, smiling more as she held out her kitty cat bucket and repeated the words.

“It’s alright,” The man in the kilt said with a Scottish accent (you honestly were less surprised by the accent than you were the mohawk) as he grinned up at you.

He eyed you up and down as your daughter was preoccupied with running her fingers over his partner’s skeleton gloves, and the Scot asked, “No costume?”

You laughed nervously. “Didn’t have time to put one together. It’s not for lack of want, I promise.”

He hummed and smiled again, reaching out a hand. “I’m Soap, and this is my husband, Ghost.”

You took his hand and shook it as you introduced yourself too, raising an eyebrow after pulling away. “Interesting names.”

Ghost looked up then, shooting a playful glare at his husband before looking up at you. “He means Johnny and Simon.”

You laughed at that and you could see Simon’s cheeks lift under his balaclava adorned with a half-skull before he went back to having a small conversation with your daughter, making your heart flutter slightly.

“Want a treat too?” Johnny asked then with a grin. “We’ve got jell-o shots for the parents.”

“Ooh,” You sounded before hesitating. “Sure, one won’t hurt.”

Johnny stood up then and disappeared into the dark entryway of their house, reappearing moments later with two of the small containers. He handed one to you and you were about to tuck it away into your sweatshirt pocket when he scoffed playfully.

“Come on, bonnie,” He said, nodding towards you with a grin. “You don’t wanna be walking around with that all night, do you? Take it with me.”

With a sigh, you smiled and opened the shot, tapping the plastic container against his when he reached out and downing the jell-o shot while trying to ignore his tongue releasing the lime green jell-o from the plastic, though it was hard to as he kept his eyes on you while he did it.

You could feel your cheeks flushing slightly and were grateful for the darkness shrouding your pink face, handing the empty cup back to him when he offered.

“That’s a girl,” He praised, leaving you more flustered.

Another group of costumed kids came up and you immediately remembered where you were, crouching down next to your daughter.

“Come on, sweetie; there’s other kids who want a turn,” You said gently, reluctantly pulling her away from Simon with an apologetic smile.

Their eyes lingered on you as you bade them goodbye with a wave that they both returned, their smiles widening as your daughter waved as well and loudly said goodbye.

The short interaction lingered in the back of your mind as you walked through the neighborhood, making the rounds and ending up on the other side of the street after a while.

As you walked along towards the next house, you heard, “Oi, bonnie!”

Looking up, you realized you were across the street from Simon and Johnny’s house again, and Johnny was waving at you.

“Want another one?” He called out, his wide grin nearly glowing in the dark.

Your decision was made for you as your daughter pulled you towards the street, pointing towards them.

“‘S Simon!” She exclaimed excitedly and your heart melted, causing you to lead her across the street towards them. Though admittedly you weren’t complaining in the slightest by being around the two men again.

The large man crouched down, his smile obvious despite the mask hiding it. “Hi, sweetheart.”

Johnny moved to stand next to you after you paused, nudging another jell-o shot into your hand.

“Thanks,” You smiled before adding, “This is the last one though; I have to drive us back home.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You don’t live ‘round here?”

Shaking your head, you sighed and looked down at your daughter who was happily showing Simon the treats she had gotten so far.

“We don’t get trick-or-treaters at our apartment,” You explained, looking back up at Johnny. “And since it’s her first year, I wanted to make sure she had fun.”

Johnny blinked before grinning. “Well, let’s make it fun, eh?”

He moved to set down the large bucket of candy he had been holding and you stared in shock. “What?”

Straightening up, Johnny nudged Simon’s shoulder before looking back at you.

“Come on, there’s a street two blocks over that’s got more people,” Johnny explained as Simon stood up as well. “We’ll show you.”

Your brain put two and two together and you started stumbling over your words. “Oh, you don’t need to do that! I’m sure we can find it and I don’t want to be a burden—“

“Nonsense,” Simon said then, leaning down to pick up your daughter when she reached out her arms to him, surprising you since you were usually the only one she let pick her up. “If it’s the little one’s first time, we want it to be as fun as possible for her.”

You looked between the two men, but again your daughter decided for you as she started babbling to Simon, who turned his attention to her and started walking off holding her tiny hand in his.

Johnny grinned down at you and nudged you again, leading you after Simon who was happily carrying her as if he hadn’t just met her twenty minutes before.

As you walked through the neighborhood, you learned that both Simon and Johnny were in the military, and that they had actually returned from a mission earlier that day (“Just in time for Halloween but not enough time to really do costumes,” Johnny explained somewhat sheepishly).

You ended up telling them about your divorce (Simon showed he was still listening to the conversation by adding comments here and there despite your daughter monopolizing his attention as she led him up to houses with her as you and Johnny waited at the end of the driveways), and how it was just the two of you now since your ex-husband decided he wanted nothing to do with your daughter. Neither of the men said anything on that but you saw the look they shared of anger and something else that you couldn’t quite discern in the darkness.

Halfway down the new street, your daughter decided it was Johnny’s turn to help her and she reached out for him instead, and you had to suppress a giggle at Simon’s jealous huff as he handed your little girl over to the beaming Scotsman.

As Johnny and your daughter started walking, Simon fell in step with you. You found that he was much quieter than Johnny but was still a great conversationalist, slipping in puns and horribly funny dad jokes when he could. He told you about how he and Johnny met in their unit, and told you about their teammates while you listened intently. He listened just as intently as you talked about your own job, asking questions here and there that showed he was actually interested in your writing career, which made your heart flutter again.

“You know,” You started after a not-uncomfortable lull in conversation as you both watched Johnny chase your daughter through a yard. “For a man who likes dad jokes, you missed the perfect opportunity for your costume with your callsign being ‘Ghost’.”

Simon blinked before his mask lifted as he smiled again. “I figured that would be too obvious.”

“Well next year I expect the right costume,” You teased, nudging him playfully.

“Oh yeah? Next year I expect any costume from you,” Simon teased back, giving you an obvious look up and down.

“Yeah yeah,” You laughed, waving him off as he chuckled next to you.

Johnny had managed to wrangle your giggling daughter and carried her back towards you two, breathing hard from having to chase her.

“Bloody hell, I thought I was in shape until I had to chase a toddler,” He huffed, causing you to laugh hard.

You noticed your daughter starting to whine and after checking your phone, you realized it was definitely past her bedtime and you felt guilty for getting lost in conversation with them.

“Alright, I think it’s time to call it a night,” You announced reluctantly, turning back slightly in the direction of your car. “I need to get her home before she falls asleep on your shoulder.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Johnny waved you off with a grin. “I don’t mind one bit.”

You smiled at that as they both followed you and you looked back at them, smiling fondly.

“I really do appreciate you two helping her out tonight,” I said gratefully. “I feel a little bad though about intruding on your night.”

“It’s fine, lovie,” Simon spoke up in a warm voice. “Couldn’t have asked for two better intruders.”

You couldn’t help but laugh slightly, still feeling a little guilty for highjacking their night. Your daughter was passed out on Johnny’s shoulder by the time you reached the car and he handed her off to you before stepping back with Simon.

As you buckled her into her carseat, you could hear Simon and Johnny conversing quietly behind you but you couldn’t catch any of what they were saying.

By the time you straightened up and closed the door, it was just Simon standing there and he chuckled at your questioning look.

“Johnny ran up to the house real quick,” He explained. “He’ll be back shortly.”

“Got it,” You said before smiling. “Thanks again, Simon. It was really wonderful meeting the two of you.”

He smiled under his mask and pulled you into a tight hug much to your surprise, but you returned it with a contented noise and briefly wondered if it would be weird to say you wanted to hang out with them again.

As he finally released the hug, Johnny jogged back up to you two and shoved something into your hand.

“Another treat for when you get home,” Johnny said with a wink before pulling you into a tight hug as well. “Drive safe, lass.”

You nodded and the three of you said your goodbyes before you got into your car, trying to not wake your daughter as you turned it on and started driving away.

It wasn’t until you were at the first stoplight that you looked at the ‘treat’ Johnny had given you, pausing when you realized there was a piece of paper taped to the top of the jell-o shot, and you opened it curiously.

The car behind you had to honk to get you out of your frozen state as you stared down at the note.

We hope to see you and the little one again soon, bonnie; call us when you want to be taken out for dinner—the new stepdads

#call of duty #cod #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghoap x reader #ghoap #ghost x soap #ghost x soap x reader #fluff #meet cute #halloween

434 notes · View notes

missilin22 · 2 years ago

Text

#Luminous Halloween Skeleton #luminous halloween skeleton costume #luminous halloween skeleton decorations #luminous halloween skeleton 2022 #luminous halloween skeleton 2023 #spirit halloween skeleton #spirit halloween skeleton costume #halloween skeleton decorations #halloween skeleton costume

1 note · View note

parkersbliss · 26 days ago

Text

A Domestic Life | S. Riley

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x female reader

warnings: none just some fluff bc I don’t see enough for him :(( maybe OOC

synopsis: just some fluffy headcannons about the infamous ghost and how he treats relationships

a/n: there is not enough tooth rotting fluff for this guy and I’m gonna fix that starting now

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for ghost!

��

sleeps like a log. the guy sleeps on his back, pointed at the sleeping and when he’s out he’s OUTTTT that boy does not sleep on the field so in an actual bed? he’s comatose. of course if you have a nightmare you can wake him up anytime. he’ll be a little confused at first but he’s got the spirit

enjoys cuddling but not in his sleep. he overheats so easily bc of how big he is so you guys keep your space. he is happy to hold you before bed though while watching a movie or scrolling on tiktok

he’s a DRY texter oh my god. it’s like your biggest pet peeve. “how’s your day” “fine” “made any progress?” “no.” you’re working on improving his skills but he’s just like that. you asked a question, he answers. besides he doesn’t frequently have time to text you long detailed replies

obviously ghost loves his mask, and it makes sense for him to conceal his identity but he doesn’t when he’s back with you. he likes to keep his identities separate. ghost and the mask for the field, regular simon at home. it’s not like anyone would know they were the same guy, except you of course.

on the off chance he’s home for halloween, he doesn’t use his mask as a costume (just in case anyone could connect the dots) but does keep the skeleton theme

his favorite holiday is christmas and he always makes sure he can have it off

he LOVES to cook. he doesn’t eat good when deployed so he loves coming home and cooking himself up exactly what he wanted. don’t get me wrong, he loves if you cook too but there’s something about not being able to control what you eat and then having full control and making homemade pasta for him

wears beanies all the time in winter. the dudes got a buzz cut, standard, so his heads cold. he loves when you wear a matching one with him

wakes up at the ass crack of dawn bc his body is just used to it after so many years

when he retires, he plans on having a small farm for even fresher homemade ingredients like eggs, milk etc. and he’ll wake up early to do the farm chores

again with the shitty food thing, he only likes gas station coffee. he’s so used to a crappy cup of joe that he can’t do the fancy shit. then again, he’s more of a tea guy anyway

loves his alone time but he likes you there, if that makes sense? like he loves reading a novel and not talking but just having you also read in the same room

likes just sitting on the couch together and watching a movie

It took him a while to adjust to physical touch after it being 1.) mostly abuse or 2.) enemies after him but he is not completely against it. he knows it’s important in relationships so he tries his best and eventually learns to love it

a sucker for slow dancing in the living room. bonus points if it’s with the christmas tree lights and music. he loves swaying around and the occasional stepping on feet and your giggles

his most prized possession besides the guns and you is a le creuset tea pot you gifted him for christmas. it’s bright blue with a gold handle and perfect.

he has a tea collection on display and is always trying new flavors from around the world. his green tea is imported from japan ONLY. always makes two cups for himself and you

loves to do any picnic dates or apple picking or farm style dates. the man loves food as FRESH as possible.

his bucket lists consists of food places around the world he wants to try and go with you.

including fugu from japan. you are totally opposed because of the whole life or death thing associated with it, but simon’s used to risks and he’ll do his research ofc.

he’ll never admit but he wants to go to america just to try the fast food there. he knows it’s bad and the opposite of what he stands for but the chinese in britain is ASS and doesn’t canes, in n out and chick fil a look SO good?

bicep holding >>> hand holding

he needs routine. simon needs to wake up at the same time, make breakfast for you guys at the same time, have his quiet time on the porch. watch the morning news with you and the tea. always at the same times. he tries not to but he can’t help bringing some of his military life home

his crew knows he has a wife but that’s it. ghost keeps simon separate and you are married to simon.

plus he can never be too safe when it comes to his work. the only name you went by when he’s deployed is “my wife” or “mrs riley”

doesn’t even carry a photo of you bc he’s that paranoid

you guys actually get married within 18 months because it just makes life easier. as soon as simon knew he wanted to marry you, he did.

it’s just easier in the military bc of pay, benefits, deployment, etc. and ofc he loves you and was locking that down ASAP

sends you recipes when he’s deployed for you to make and rate

when he can’t sleep, which is often, he just lays next to you not touching and contemplated how it is after all the bad he’s done, how he got it so good.

and he makes sure you know how appreciative he is

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #cod #call of duty #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley fluff #ghost fluff #simon riley x y/n #ghost mw2

382 notes · View notes

megwritesriddles · 30 days ago

Text

No Ghosts ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Sebastian (Stardew Valley) x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 19 - Public sex. On the way back to the farm from the Spirit's Eve celebrations, Readers night takes a sudden but pleasurable turn.

Tags: Public sex, Unprotected sex, Against a tree, Dirty talk, Dom!Sebastian, Praise kink, Mild possessive behaviour, Established relationship, Hint of fluff, Very brief sense of fear.

Word count: 2.3k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Happy Hallowen!! This is mildly Halloween themed, Sebastian dresses as Ghostface but doesn't keep the mask on (sorry to my mask kink folks)!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

You left the town square in a very good mood. You skipped down the path toward your farm, wishing the night could have lasted a little longer. The Spirit’s Eve festival had been fun, spending time with your friends was always enjoyable, but coupled with funny costumes and general merriment, you felt lighter than you had in a while. You’d had a little to drink, played games and eaten plenty of candy. Even Sebastian had cracked a smile every once in a while, although you supposed he liked the dark spooky atmosphere of the holiday and the skeletons. He found the skeletons quite fascinating, and you had stood there together watching them for quite a while, you sipping a pumpkin-spiced drink, his hand on your hip, holding you to his side. He’d dressed up as Ghostface, just wearing all black and carrying around a mask he occasionally put on to piss off some of the older townsfolk. They felt his costume was too scary for the children, but he’d just scoffed them off. Vincent had actually seemed to quite like it, but presumably because he didn’t have any context for the character. He’d found it funny and even asked to try on the mask, but Jodi had intervened.

As the lights of the town dimmed away behind you, you began to feel a little more uneasy. You didn’t usually stay out this late, other than in the mines, but that felt safer somehow, despite the literal monsters. You supposed city life had instilled a fear in you of walking alone in the dark that couldn’t quite be shaken, even in the safety of Pelican Town. You try to comfort yourself. Who exactly was going to jump out at you? The biggest creep in town was Clint, but he seemed preoccupied enough with Emily that he was likely to leave you alone and even if he wasn’t… would he really do something bad? You weren’t sure. You kept walking, getting gradually a little more jumpy. It seemed much darker than a normal night, a thick covering of clouds blocking out the light from the moon. It had been unnoticeable in the town square, with all the Jack-O-Lanterns and torches, but now that they were all gone, the true darkness was evident and rather frightening. You wonder a little pissily why Sebastian hadn’t offered to walk you home, he usually did when it was dark out, but he’d sort of disappeared not long after you’d announced you were headed home. You sigh to yourself, wondering if you should start a fight with him about it the next time you see him. You did usually insist he didn’t have to walk you home, maybe he’d finally listened, although it seemed an odd time to start, the scariest night of the year. You listen for the sounds of squirrels skittering past occasionally, making sure there are no louder noises in the eerie silence.

“Boo!” a loud voice shocks your blood cold, making you stumble backwards. Your head spins with fear for a moment as a dark figure jumps onto the path for a moment. Then you spot the Ghostface mask and scowl deeply.

“Sebastian!” you hiss. “Not fucking funny!” you place a hand on your chest, trying to calm your breathing. He laughs loudly, pulling the mask off and coming towards you, a shit-eating grin on his face as he drops it on the ground somewhere. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close, still chuckling lowly.

“You big scaredy cat,” he teases, leaning in to kiss your neck softly, feeling your still slightly pounding pulse beneath his lips.

“Fuck off! I’m a lone woman walking around at night, of course I was scared,” you huff. He pulls back to look at you, biting his lip.

“I didn’t think of that,” he admits, rubbing your sides softly. “I’m sorry, baby,” he hums, leaning back in to kiss your neck. “I’ll scare you in the daytime next time, yeah baby?”

“I hate you,” you grumble, feeling him grin into your neck in response. You can’t help but smile a little yourself.

“No, you don’t baby,” he nips at the skin of your collarbone, careful not to leave a mark no matter how desperately he wants to. His hands rub up and down your sides slowly, mapping out the shape of you. He kisses up your neck to your jaw and finally to your lips, pulling you right up against him as your lips connect. You kiss back, tangling your hand into his black locks, pressing closer to him too. His hand settles on your lower back, using his other hand to grip the flesh of your ass, pulling you against him. He’s half-hard already, softly guiding you to rub against him.

“Mmm, we should get back to mine,” you whisper, trying to detangle from his arms, but he holds you tight to him, growling softly.

“I don’t want to wait,” he rumbles, moving in to kiss you again. He starts back you towards a wide sturdy tree.

“What? My place is literally– mmph– like two minutes away?” you mumble between sensual kisses, as he presses your back to the tree, only just out of view of the footpath.

“Don’t care, need your pussy right now,” he whispers, reaching down to flick open the button of his jeans. Your mouth falls open into an ‘o’ shape, surprised by his demeanour. Even in the very dim light, you can see the deep lust in his eyes as he wrestles his jeans down. You suppose this path isn’t used by anyone but you very often… He interrupts your train of thought. “Come on, be a good girl and get those tights off for me,” he palms himself through his boxers, leaning in to kiss your neck again. You’re a little surprised by his neediness and stand motionless for a moment. His free hand reaches around and pats your ass. “Now, baby, the panties too,”

You spring into action, leaning down to pull down your patterned costume tights, fighting slightly against the constricting fabric, trying not to rip it. His hand settles into your hair, stroking softly while you fiddle around, his other hand still gently caressing his ever-hardening cock. Your tights and underwear finally fall around your ankles and you look up at him. He uses his hand in your hair to pull you in, kissing you again, passionate and open-mouthed, his tongue swirling around yours. Then, taking hold of your waist, he whirls you around and presses your front against the tree. You gasp, bracing your hand in front of your head so you’re not leaning your cheek onto the bark. Sebastian spots this and rustles around for a second, taking off his hoodie, leaving him in a worn band-tee underneath. He haphazardly folds up the plush garment and pulls you into him, positioning the hoodie so you can use it as a pillow against the tree. You lean back forward, your cheek now against it, relieved by the plush material and feeling a rush of arousal at his scent so powerful by your nose, cigarettes, cologne and a hint of a natural musk that is so distinctly his you could pick it out of a line-up. You nuzzle into the material, smelling it deeply as his hands flip up your skirt and knead the flesh of your ass.

“That better baby?” he grunts, gripping your cheeks and spreading you open for his viewing pleasure. You nod. “Mmm, this perfect pussy, just begging to be filled with my cock,” he growls. “Tell me you need my cock,”

“Need your cock,” you mumble softly, shivering at the cool air against your overheated core. He grips your ass a little tighter, groaning pleasurably.

“That’s my girl, so needy for me that you’ll let me fuck you on a public path, huh?” he taunts, sliding his cock slowly between your folds. “Do you like it? The idea that anyone could walk past and see us like this, know what a needy thing you are for me, how completely I have you undone?” He starts to slowly sink into your warmth, hissing. “Yeah? Do you want everyone to see how perfectly you take my cock? To see how needy I am for you? You want that don’t you baby?” he grunts, finally bottoming out, leaving you both panting. You shut your eyes, hiding your flushed face in the material of his hoodie. He grips your waist with one hand, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. His other hand comes up, pulling the neckline of your shirt down over your shoulder so he can suck a mark into your skin, somewhere you can keep it hidden during these colder fall months. His teeth pull gently at your skin as he starts to rock against you. You stutter out a moan, bracing your hands against the tree trunk. His hand moves to grope at your clothed breast as he slowly thrusts in and out of you. “You feel so perfect, you always feel so perfect– nnghh– fuck baby,” he groans, rocking into you a little faster. Your lips part and you let out soft moans with each of his thrusts, but he can tell you’re holding back on him. He slams forward suddenly, sheathing his whole length inside of you. You can’t help but let out a loud moan, quickly biting your lip in an attempt to stop it. “No, don’t you dare bite your lip,” he hisses, repeating the punishing thrust.

“Seb…” you whine loudly, your lip falling from between your teeth. Your body jerks forward with his movement and you vaguely feel the scratch of the bark through the material of your clothes, it oddly heightens the experience. In a vain attempt to muffle yourself, you press your face into the hoodie, breathing hard through your nose, but it doesn’t work. Sebastian won’t let you off that easily, keeping up his wild pace, coaxing louder and louder sounds from you.

“Let the whole town hear who you belong to, you’re not ashamed of me, are you?” he taunts, biting down on your shoulder, making you whimper.

“Th-that’s not– ahh!- fair,” you struggle to get the words out, moans springing forward involuntarily from your chest as he fucks into you. He wraps an arm firmly around your middle, using the leverage to ram even deeper into you. You wail out in pleasure, scratching slightly at the trunk of the tree.

“Taking me so fucking well, baby,” he grunts. “Perfect, perfect, perfect,” his pace becomes faster and a little more erratic. You know what’s coming and the thought makes you moan out once more. His hand slams into the tree trunk above you for balance, fucking into you with reckless abandon. “My dirty girl, always willing to do anything just to get my cock buried in you,” his voice shakes with the intensity of the pleasure coursing through him. You cry out repeatedly, both in response to the snaps of his hips against yours as well as the words spilling from his mouth. His arm around your middle tightens as he feels your legs start to weaken and give out. “Gonna come, pretty girl?” he growls.

“Yes,” you sob desperately, not even able to keep yourself quiet anymore, despite having your face pressed into his hoodie. You can only pray your voice isn’t carrying into town, hopefully Harvey shut his windows tonight.

“Say my name, let everyone know who is making you come!” he demands harshly, his thrusts never once relenting.

“Seb!” you wail, feeling him nip your shoulder chastisingly. You moan loudly, knowing what he wants. “S-Sebastian!” you cry, struggling through the syllables, but it leaves him satisfied nonetheless.

“Good girl, come for me,” he orders. Like a damn breaking, you scream once more, your walls constricting around him. He growls loudly in your ear. “Yeah that’s it, come on my cock,” you pulse around him, driving him to bury himself into you to the hilt and empty himself into you with a furious roar. He holds you tightly to him, panting as he comes down, his lips ghosting across your neck. Now that the arousal and physical activity has ceased, you both start to feel cold, the nippy midnight air infiltrating your little bubble of pleasure. He withdraws from you slowly, making you both shiver a little. “Mmm, that was fun, wasn’t it baby?” he chuckles, sounding a little winded. You just nod, carefully straightening up from against the tree, his arm still around your middle. You move his hoodie, brushing off some of the debris from the other side and your palms. He sighs happily from behind you. “The whole world knows who you belong to now,” he teases, nipping your earlobe. He pulls back so that the both of you can readjust your clothing. You carelessly pull up your tights, not bothering to adjust them properly, watching as he tucks himself away and pulls up his jeans. “Am I coming to yours?” he enquires, taking his hoodie from you as if he’s about to put it on but then wrapping it around your shoulders, tying the sleeves in the front to secure it.

“Sure if you like, I’ve got some more pumpkin soup from the carving that I probably won’t finish on my own,” you sigh, leaning into his arms as he embraces you, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Pumpkin soup and a beautiful girl to hold by the fire…” he muses, littering a few kisses down your cheek. “I think I would be insane to say no to that,”

“Let’s go then,” you start to move sluggishly, he pulls you back for a moment.

“Can’t forget my mask so I can scare you in the morning,” he grins. You scoff and roll your eyes, swatting his chest, making him chuckle. He lets go of you for a moment to grab the long-since discarded Ghostface mask off the path, shaking some dust off of it.

“I hate you,” you grumble as he returns to your side, slipping his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip.

“No, you don’t”

“No,” you admit with a fond smile, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I don’t,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

239 notes · View notes

ghouldtime · 30 days ago

Text

Celebrating Halloween with the TF141 Men

Happy Halloween!!! 🎃👻 My absolute FAVORITE holiday so you know I had to do this because SPOOKY TIME HELL YEAH

Captain John Price

He's never really been one for it or most holidays. He's usually far too busy to celebrate them and days fly by without him realizing. They're usually something that sneak up on him, seeing as he is preoccupied most of the time and the last thing he's worried about is partying or doing something special

He only really notices it because Halloween has mainly been his busy holiday, especially for more messy missions or times when he needs Intel. In countries that celebrate it, it makes for an extremely easy get away and is a great opportunity to be less covert and more direct. Man covered in blood? Which? Everyone is, it's Halloween. People can look at a corpse and wouldn't even question it, they'll just think it's really good special effects. The screaming? Oh don't mind that, just a soundtrack :)

He's not one who exactly celebrates it in a traditional way. He never really had the time for that - for sitting down and handing out candy or dressing up. That's too much time out of his day and he usually doesn't have that luxury - nor does he feel its sensible. He's far more on the side of tricks over treating, or going to Halloween events instead of participating individually

On Halloween, it's pretty much a guarantee he's going to pull something or do a relatively harmless prank. He's got quite the sense of humor underneath his stern facade. It's usually something harmless like "Did you see the leek in the bathroom?" And as you investigate, it's a literal leek (the vegetable) and he's holding back laughter

If you try to one-up him, he'll just come back stronger next year. You'll be playing a dangerous game but it should always be expected. His team learned that the hard way. It doesn't help he can get others in on it

That doesn't mean the day is without treats. If it matters to you, he'll happily take you to a party or any Halloween themed event that you want to go to - his only thing is that he won't host those, too much clean up and headaches as far as he's concerned

He'll only dress up if you pick out the outfit. It's nothing personal, it's just not something he's particularly interested in, but he will happily oblige. He usually thinks most costumes are a bit ridiculous but what's the harm of getting in the spirit? Besides, it's very much worth it to see you smile

It's hard to get him to slow down and enjoy things like holidays, but with you by his side it feels a lot more natural. He's a stubborn man stuck in his routine of all work, little play, sometimes he needs someone to boot him out of it and get him to live a little. It's difficult yet he'll always make it worth it

No matter what you decide to do or where you go, he'll be holding your hand, keeping you close to him. His attention will always fall right back on you throughout the night, no matter what else is going on. Whether it's watching a scary movie or hanging out at a bar hosting a costume party, he'll always be turning to you

Having someone like you by his side is really what he needed to remind himself that he is human too and anchors him onto the humanity he can scarcely find some days. It's easy to forget the smaller things in life unless you have that within your reach. When his day is all weight-of-the-world stakes, he sometimes loses the smaller picture. Seeing your smile is a reminder of what and who he is fighting for, and why he must keep doing it

He'll be holding you a bit closer, his gaze lingering more so than usual, and the lines around his eyes will be that much softer as he steals yet another glance at you. Halloween might be a night of frights but the scariest thing in that moment would be spending another minute without you :)

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley

It would honestly be weirder if he didn't like Halloween. He's dressed like a damn skeleton year round and you can't tell me he doesn't play into the bit (it would be absolutely hilarious though if he just dressed like a regular guy on Halloween. That's a real scare amirite)

He actually wasn't a fan of it growing up, mainly due to the association with all the frightening outfits and his brother Tommy taking the opportunity to up the ante on scaring the living daylights out of him. But now that he's reclaimed the mask and his brother has long been gone, it's a bitter sweet thing and one of the few things that actually help him remember his brother in the best way (seeing as they repaired their relationship when they were older)

Except the difference is Halloween is meant for plain ol' good scary fun. The kind where people can opt in if they want to participate. He's not looking to create traumatic experiences or give someone a bad association, he would rather not pass his own childhood on in that way

That being said, Ghost isn't one to go out and actively wander around or party. He's still his usual introverted self. No holiday will ever change that for him

He still decorates for it, he's having fun with it because it ties right into his aesthetic. Spookiness is literally in his name. He will mainly decorate with skeletons and skeletal animals doing goofy things - it's different each year. The cowboy skeletons were a hit, as was the undead petting zoo, full of those anatomically incorrect skeletons

Yes, all the skeletons DO have names. And yes, they're all puns - he finds them humerus ;)

His ideal Halloween is more of a classic night in. He will still dress up to hand out candy, but also he is spending most of it by your side for a slasher movie marathon. Spending time with those he values on arguably his favorite holiday is his preferred way to celebrate

And yes, he usually will dress to match the part. Most years his costumes are reflective of said slashers or notorious movie killers. He has the right build and stature to make for an utterly killer Jason, Mike Myers, Ghostface - you name it, he probably has a costume for it

He personally loves old slashers because of how bad most of them are, they have a sort of nostalgia to them that he likes. If you're not able to watch those or are too squeamish, he will happily put on other genres of Halloween movies

Anything stop motion is usually fair game! But if you'd rather watch a TV show instead, he won't contest. The Twilight Zone is a classic series OR you can even watch those Halloween baking shows

He will get ridiculously invested in them if you do. Prepare to watch the entire season that night if you make that choice, and he WILL have commentary (Lemon curd? Really? Everyone knows raspberry pairs better with it and it's Halloween themed. Why aren't you making it bloody??)

Usually he isn't much of a candy eater, but he naturally has a fair Halloween stock so feel free to swipe some if you're feeling up for it. He's more of a baked sweets kind of guy, which he has absolutely made SURE to stockpile with other snacks and drinks for your movie marathon. Naturally he makes sure to have your favorites there too, that goes without saying

You won't have to get up to answer the door if you don't want to, he will happily do it. He is, however, never going to be the person to just leave the bowl outside. Halloween being his favorite holiday means he IS participating to some degree. It brings him happy memories. He usually isn't gone for too long, though. After all, he can't miss his favorite scenes (or his favorite person for too long )

Expect to spend most of the night bundled under a fluffy skeletal patterned fleece with all the movies (or shows) you pick all that much more interesting with his commentary, his arm around you. He won't mind if you fall asleep like that or hide into him if it gets scary - don't worry, he's the only ghost you'll have to worry about

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

If you want someone to have fun with and truly celebrate, he is absolutely your guy. He loves Halloween, mainly because it's a great community holiday and is one of the few that's not centered on familial stuff or love alone

Not to mention, he has good memories of Halloween growing up. He remembers being a kid once, wanting to dress up and be his favorite super heroes and the fun that came with it. He wants to be one of those people who absolutely made kids' nights with a generous bounty of candy, the same way that others did for him

He prefers decorating with a more retro vibe. Modern decorations just don't cut it for him and he feels they don't have the same magic. Call him particular but he finds far more charm in the older decor than the new cheap stuff. Anyone can get the newest trendy thing but that display? All vintage (he's got great taste)

He is ALSO the one who has the king size candy bars and the GOOD stuff. He's also considerate - he accounts for kids with peanut allergies and has a trinket bowl they can pick something from if they can't have candy or just want something a bit different!

He absolutely lives for seeing all of the costumes and the creativity that goes into them. He's already looked up the hottest outfits and media so he can know just how to compliment them to make them smile.

He's 110% enlisting your help to pass out the candy and to keep things going. He needs someone to keep him company through the chillier part of the night and someone to talk to, not to mention - he needs a distraction

It's trick or treating - what would it be without a bit of a trick? Granted, he waits til the later part of the night when the older kids are roaming and darkness has fallen. He loves laying in wait in a ghillie suit. No one sees him until it's too late and he's popping up, scaring the living daylights out of them

He's in his element there. Stealth, using his great sense of humor, and having fun? Yeah, he's having a great time. And he'll make sure you are too. You're welcome to join him in his endeavors. He's got a second suit somewhere - you can both surprise those who try and swipe a whole candy bowl they think was left unattended

Needless to say, they learn their lesson fast. It takes everything in him to hold it together and keep a stern face as they slink off. The second they round the corner, he's cracking up. Works every single time - and he changes locations and tactics each year, good luck

He's got enough candy to go around and in the quiet moments, help yourself, he'll enjoy some right by your side too. Have to keep fueled up for the night ahead. He'll make sure you're staying warm (or cool, if the climate happens to be miserable this time of year) and will be happily tell you scary stories if you feel so inclined to listen. He has plenty in store that he learned from when his siblings were little - and ones his older brother told him too

There's many things that can haunt you in this world, and before the night is up you'll be adding his laugh or the warmth of his hands adjusting your costume, letting his touch linger for a bit longer than normal - in the best way, of course ;)

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish

Contrary to popular belief, holidays or celebrating them aren't particularly his thing. Like Price, he's usually quite work focused and can be a bit too absorbed in it for his own good. He didn't become the youngest member of TF141 for nothing, this man has dedication

He's still very much learning the balance between work life and personal, it's a thin line he tends to forget about because of how driven he is. Usually all he needs is someone to instigate, maybe distract, and get the ball rolling. He'll be all for it after a nudge in the right way

Like anything he does though, when he commits he COMMITS. He's going all out. He's particularly fond of the artistic aspect of most costumes and having fun with it. It's the one time of year you can wear nearly whatever you want and no one will (particularly) judge you for it

If you want to do a couples costume or duo's costume, he's your man. He's pulling out all the stops for it. He's actually got a decent eye for the arts and he CAN sew. It's a practical skill and it's made him plenty of friends (especially with those who are a bit too big for their uniforms, or who are accident prone and seem to wear holes into their gear like it's their job)

Just say the word or idea and he'll be right on it, looking into inspiration and doing what he can to put it together. He'll even do the SFX makeup if you want (he's seen enough gore that he'll be able to get it right, trust him on that)

If you go to any event, you'll probably win the costume contest. He's putting in all the details he can. Or he can keep it low-key, if you'd rather not have the attention and just want to have fun. Either way, he'll be matching your energy and vibe

He's not really going to want to spend the night passing out candy alone. Sure, you can do some of that - but it only comes once a year. Why not take advantage of the spookiness and the ambiance of the holiday? He'll be the one who would rather attend things like haunted houses, even if they are ineffective against him - he'll spot most scares from a mile away. At least it's fun to see them try, most times he'll just stand and stare or even laugh if they try really hard. Luckily, it means he'll protect you

Another option is ghost hunting, and he doesn't just mean chasing after ghost. He's all for ghost tours or going to abandoned places to see what all the fuss is about. Don't worry, he can keep you safe. He knows how ghosts work, after all, he works WITH one. It might be eerie but it'll be a Halloween you won't forget

If you really, really don't want to go - he'll settle for one of those fright nights that they have at some amusement parks or other local places where you can opt out of the scares. As long as he gets to do something with you and have fun while the night lasts, he'll be happy to do it

The night will likely end with you both nearly passed out on the couch, costumes half thrown off as you sprawl over each other, with some B-grade cheesy horror movie running in the background. Though you're both so tired after all you did so it doesn't really matter what's on or what monster or ghost they're talking about. After the night you've had, you're the only boo he cares about

BONUS

König

For some context, he never grew up WITH Halloween. As in, it wasn't really celebrated or much of a thing in his hometown, aside from maybe a few gimmicky commercial things. With him being so far away from others and growing up in a rural community, it wasn't ever really a choice. His parents certainly weren't participating nor would he

He was made aware of it in school but it never particularly appealed to him or was an idea that crossed his mind. He simply shrugged it off most years or downright ignored it. He didn't see why it would be something he would celebrate or participate in himself - interacting with strangers and loud children to give them candy? No thank you. That was until you came around.

Truth be told, he didn't really exactly see the appeal of Halloween. He's surrounded by death, skeletons, and gloom all day - why would he want more of that? Plus, children these days have too much candy, all that processed crap can't be good for them. He's someone who has to be convinced and have it shown from a different point of view. Such as the aspect of being able to be whatever you want to be for a night and not having others judge you for it, but rather encouraging it

Now THAT appeals to him. Despite the fact he's got his social anxiety under control in an iron clad grasp, the trauma of his childhood and being targeted for being different - for simply being himself still have lingering effects to this day. The idea of potentially being accept for just being himself is still something he struggles with and is part of why he's so closed off. Having an entire holiday where people can be who they want, dress up like who they want to be, and have fun with it is greatly appealing

He'll take some time to get used to it but you'll have to get him out there for him to truly feel the spirit(s) of it. He's someone who needs some push when it comes to social things or holiday events to get out of his comfort zone. Just get him to wear a mask (easy, seeing as he does that all day when he's at work), throw on a jacket, and take him out by the hand and show him the wonderful things of it and he WILL warm up

Seeing all the kids having actually happy childhood moments, laughing and running with their peers in ways he could have only dreamed of when he was their age, softens something inside of him

And it only works more when they don't look at him in fear or cower but rather in awe, because he's a big guy - he knows it. And in a costume of any kind, he blends right in and is JUST who kids want to see on Halloween

The blow that finally struck through right to his heart was when you took him by the hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as you walked with him down the street to take a look at all the decorated houses as trick or treaters ran about. The warmth he felt wasn't just from you being tucked against his side, but rather deep within as you smiled up at him and asked what he would like to be next year. It's not from you being physically there with him alone, it's from the fact you cared enough to BE with him and to show him what he was missing far beyond the surface level alone. It's the fact you even bothered to try and the fact you cared about him enough to try and bring him some joy in a usually bleak world

That's all he needs to hear to already be planning it out in his head as his face flushes. Thank goodness he's wearing the mask. He certainly doesn't know himself but he does know one thing - it's going to be a couples costume. And he's going to be celebrating with you :)

204 notes · View notes