#spooky streetlights

[silyabeeodess]

FusionFall Headcanons: Spooky Streetlights

The streets of Endsville at night have never exactly been all that safe to begin with. Still, at least civilians knew that they could fight back against the gloom and whatever lurked in it by installing streetlamps throughout the city. After Fuse's invasion... that sadly is not the case anymore. The lights that once meant safety are now just as dangerous as the beasts they helped keep at bay.

While their name refers to the heads of streetlamps that stand in place for their hands, these fusion monsters are made up of various items seen across the Suburbs, like trash cans and mailboxes. According to concept art, these fusion monsters can stand at roughly 2.5 meters in height; however, their in-game models, while still taller than the player, don't seem to be that big. Part of what can contribute to this size difference is their elongated arms and neck, which can contort in very fluid, flexible ways and are fix together from metal pieces of varying lengths. Also, their arms are about the length of their bodies, so even smaller Spooky Streetlights can appear much larger when they stretch out.

As fluid as their arms and neck are, the same cannot be said for other areas of their body. Their trash bin legs are thick and clunky, and the postbox that makes up their abdomen doesn't allow them to bend much at all at their core. Because of this, their walk tends to be clumsy and their close-range attacks are often erratic. They'll lash out in wild strikes to pierce a target with their hands or bite them. Furthermore, because of this lack of control, the Spooky Streetlights commonly attack from long-range. They can't fire from too far a distance, but they are capable of manifesting globes of fusion matter from their mouths and spitting them at enemies.

The main reason people think why the Spooky Streetlights aren't as common in other parts of the Suburbs as they are in Endsville is because of the specific variety of the materials available. Some of Endville's architecture has a dark, sharp aesthetic, like sign welcoming people into the city. From examining this fusion monster's concept art, we can see that the streetlamps used in their creation fit with this aesthetic whereas most other streetlamps tend to be blunter/more rounded--therefore less suited for offensive means. One example of another variant of this monster is the Shady Streetlights located in Townsville Park, which--while not mentioned to be any stronger than the former--are described as being "not very trustworthy" and use sneakier tactics, such as the Battery Drain ability.

For similar reasons, it's harder for Spooky Streetlights to create more of themselves compared to other fusion monsters. The world of FusionFall has a good grasp on how to deal with property damage simply from the sheer number of threats that destroy cities on a regular basis. Nevertheless, it's not like streetlamps are available at the nearest department store. It takes time for them to be set up and who sets them up--a city or an individual--can differ by area. People are also going to be hesitant to put out anything that may result in the creation of new fusion monsters. There's a limit on what's available for them to respawn quickly.

Although it's difficult for them to camouflage themselves due to their unique appearance, they don't really have to: True, their streetlamps make them a literal beacon in the darkness, so it's impossible for them to hide, but it's actually a trait that can work to their advantage after nightfall. At a distance, when these monsters are perfectly still, the average person can see their lights first, naturally think, "Ooh! Electricity! Civilization! Cover from the darkness!" and move closer. By the time they realize the figure standing under that light is very much alive and dangerous, it's too late. It's like a moth being lured to a flame. This trick worked often at the start of the war, before people became more aware of this fusion monster and of fusion matter in general. However, the more fusion matter in an area, the better these things actually are at hiding simply because their green glow can match their warped environment's.

[dollybites]

midwinter walks but you’re slavic

[spooky-month-streetlights]

!Skid & Pump Ref sheets!

Updated with the logo! The originals were posted on @trasheatingcrybaby

[trasheatingcrybaby]

Skid and Pump redesigns!

Go follow @spooky-month-streetlights That's where I'll be posting the comic! See ya there!

[soup-appreciation]

busted out my alcohol markers for @streetlight-halo 's annabelle dtiys

I love the colours and composition and outfit from the original so much, I had to do it!

[floral-hex]

couple of days late to mention it, but I’m still thinking about the eclipse. One of the coolest, spookiest things I’ve ever seen. There was a giant, silver ring in the sky! and you could just look at! No glasses or anything! Everything went dark and there was this big, bright burning halo. Man, I tried to not get too excited or hopeful about it, I mean pictures of it are always cool, but the real deal was like seeing actual magic. and then I went inside and made a pizza. so… good monday.

[throwaway-settings]

i will put on makeup for the express purpose of looking more sickly

[pedroschka]

Bat Signal

Eddie Munson x reader

A/n I did NOT write this! all credits go to my dear friend (sweetest little bean) who wrote this for me but wants to stay anonymous. I asked if I could post it because it's just too sweet not to share it

🦇

The plush bat feels soft in Eddie's hands as he turns it over, studying the fuzzy fabric. Its beady eyes stare back at him, little felt fangs peeking out from the stitched mouth. He smooths down the grey fur, fingers lingering on the velvety ears. It's cute, in an ugly sort of way. Just like him.

Sounds of Metallica blast from the stereo speakers behind him, the noise a familiar comfort in the cluttered trailer he reluctantly calls home these days. A half-eaten slice of pizza sits forgotten on the table, grease staining the cardboard box a darker shade of brown. He'd tried to tidy up earlier, shoving dirty laundry and empty beer cans out of sight, but the lingering scent of cigarette smoke and weed remains, clinging to the stained couch cushions.

Eddie sets the bat down, reaching for the fresh pack of cigs in his frayed denim vest pocket. Mentally rehearses what he's going to say when he sees you.

"Hey, I saw this and thought of you," he mumbles around the cigarette, free hand tucking a stray piece of long brown hair behind his ear. "Figured you might like it, since you're into all that goth shit, you know?" He drops his voice, trying to sound cooler, more casual. "I mean, if you want it."

Fuck, that sounds stupid. Eddie sighs, smoke curling from his nostrils. He stubs the cigarette out in the ashtray on the end table, pushing to his feet. His reflection in the cracked mirror by the door stares back at him, all pale skin and dark circles beneath bloodshot eyes. The denim vest hangs off his thin frame, metal band patches and spikes doing little to hide the prominent collarbones beneath his faded Dio t-shirt.

"You look like shit, Munson," he tells himself, lips twisting wryly.

Still, he's got no choice. He's already late and he doesn't want to risk you giving up on him showing. Grabbing the plush bat, he heads out to the van, Corroded Coffin spray-painted in dripping white letters on the side. It takes three tries before the engine sputters to life.

🦇

You’re leaning against the brick wall outside the record store when he pulls up, combat boots tapping restlessly against the sidewalk. Your ripped fishnet stockings gleam beneath the streetlights, eyes finding his as he shifts the van into park.

"Starting to think you weren't gonna show," you say when he approaches. You don't sound mad though, just resigned. Like you expected him to let you down.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Eddie says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I, uh, got held up with something."

You hum noncommittally, gaze dropping to the stuffed animal in his other hand. One pierced eyebrow arches. "What's with the bat? Planning on doing some late night birdwatching?"

Eddie blinks, glancing down like he'd forgotten he was holding it. "What? No, this..." He clears his throat, thrusting it towards you. "This is for you, actually."

Your kohl-rimmed eyes widen fractionally as you take it from him, chipped black nails sinking into the plush fur. You hold it up, examining it in the dim light. A slow smile spreads across your face and Eddie's heart skips a beat in his chest.

"For me, huh?" you murmur, looking up at him from beneath heavy lashes. "Any particular reason?"

Eddie shrugs one shoulder, feigning nonchalance even as his palms grow clammy. "Thought you might like it. Y'know, 'cause it's all spooky and shit. Like you."

You smirk, cradling the bat against your chest possessively. "You saying I'm spooky, Munson?"

"No! I mean, yeah, but like...in a good way," Eddie stammers, feeling his face flush. He scuffs the toe of his scuffed boot against the sidewalk. "Spooky's cool."

You laugh, the sound throaty and warm. It makes something flutter in Eddie's chest, chasing away the cold emptiness that's taken root there. "Well, I guess that makes two of us then."

You tuck the bat under one arm, jerking your head towards the record store behind you. "C'mon, let's go dig through the stacks. I'm in dire need of some new tunes."

"Lead the way," Eddie says, falling into step beside you as you head inside. His shoulder brushes against yours and he feels lighter than he has in weeks, the plush bat a comforting presence between the two of you.

Maybe, just maybe, he's finally found someone who gets it. Someone who looks at him and sees more than just a freak, a burnout, a waste of space.

Someone who makes him feel alive again, like he matters.

Like he's not alone anymore.

🦇

He lets you drag him through the aisles, watching as you flip through the rows of vinyl with deft fingers. You keep the bat tucked in the crook of your elbow the entire time, its beady eyes peering out at the world.

"This little dude's gonna be my new mascot," you declare, holding up a battered copy of Black Sabbath's self-titled album. "He can perch on my bedpost, keep watch over my room."

"Yeah?" Eddie grins, something warm unfurling in his chest at the thought of his gift watching over you. "Guess that means you gotta give him a totally epic name then."

You purse your lips, considering. "Hmm. How about...Ozzy?"

Eddie snorts. "Ozzy the bat? Seriously?"

"What? It's perfect!" You hold the plush up next to the album cover, as if comparing the two. "Look, they've even got the same spaced out expression."

Eddie shakes his head, still grinning. "Whatever you say, weirdo."

"You love it," you counter, bumping your hip against his.

He looks at you, taking in the smudged eyeliner and chipped polish, the ratty Misfits shirt and torn jeans. You are a beautiful mess, just like him.

"Yeah," he murmurs, throat suddenly tight. "I really fucking do."

🦇

[joshsindigostreak]

The Weight of Dreams

Demon!Josh x F!Reader

Authors Note: Happy Spooky Season everyone!! Lately I’ve been calling Josh a demon as a joke but something in my brain went, “write that down!” and thus this One Shot was born! Hope you enjoy him!

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, 18+, PURE filth, there is a plot but you know what I mean, fingering, penetrative sex F!receiving, unprotected sex (but he’s a demon so?), oral sex F!Receiving, horn play (drew gooden voice, ‘I sure hope it does!’)

Incubi aren’t supposed to have regulars. They’re not supposed to have patterns. They’re supposed to skip around the ether and drop into human dreams like funnel clouds in the sky. Incubi and their Succubi counterparts all have their own agendas, feeding their primal urges since the first time a human fell asleep. If only humans knew the kind of catnip and candy that wafted into the universe from their subconscious. 

In the hierarchy of Hell, Incubi aren’t that far up the food chain. High enough to be a nuisance but low enough that they could essentially do what they wanted. The Dukes, Princes and Kings had more important things to worry about than horny, slumbering humans. 

One demon in particular was more chaotic than most. He was on the younger end for an Incubi, which often led to him shirking the “rules” of his kind in favor of whatever he wanted. He was a fucking Demon, another cog in the infernal machine that lurked beneath the earth. Who cares if he had an urban legend or two attached to his presence? If his equally demonic twin could be referred to as The Hat Man, then why couldn’t he continue on his nightly Hellish crusades and have fun while doing it? 

What’s the worst that could happen?

On this ordinary Wednesday night, he was flitting about town to town, sniffing out any saucy dreams that intrigued him. Not all dreams were created equal, and there were enough humans on the planet that he could afford to be picky. 

He was skating through the sky, invisible to the human eye. The only clue to his presence would be the occasional zap of a poDwer line or flickering streetlight. Power surges often happened if there were too many of his kind around, often confused with their Poltergeist cousins. 

The Demon was about to give up on this and of town and move onto the next major city when he was nearly hit in the face with the force of a dream that made him skid to a halt. Like a bloodhound, he followed the trail to a nearby apartment, easily fitting through a cracked window and into the kitchen. The only sound that could be heard was the low chatter from a television in another room. The lustful energy beckoned him down the short hallway like bait on a hook. 

Oh, this was going to be fun, he thought, a smirk forming on his face.

The only door on this end of the apartment was open, and the light of the television illuminated and flickered into the hall. With silent footsteps, he crept inside to see the source of the arousal that was practically vibrating the walls. 

If only humans were aware of what their energy could do.

The bedroom was tiny and it took seconds to find the source of the intoxicating energy. To Incubi, energy had a taste and a smell that was a touch beyond human comprehension, like trying to see infrared light with the naked eye. It made the demon's eyes threaten to roll back the closer he got to the bed. 

The human, a woman, rolled over in her bed, oblivious to the creature observing her. Her hair covered most of her face, and that’s when she made the most exquisite sound he had heard all night. 

A tight, low, barely audible moan. 

His entire being snapped to attention. He flexed his shoulders and silently walked towards the bed, satisfied he had found just the right dream to drop into. He gazed down at your slumbering form, noting your furrowed brow and pursed lips. He perched on the side of the bed, tentatively waiting for the right moment to drop in. It was more of an artform than even other Demons thought. 

Your television was still on, and the light that projected onto the wall in front of him perfectly silhouetted his small horns that curled backwards on either side of his head. All Demons had horns, and they were as individual as a fingerprint. The more experienced the Demon, the larger and stronger they looked. As an Incubus, his weren’t much to write home about, but he hoped that one day they’d eventually curl around the back of his head like a ram, and maybe if he was bad enough, he’d earn his leathery, bat-like wings similar to the other higher up Demons he knew. 

Slowly, his hand curled around your soft wrist, his head rolling back along with his dark eyes as your dream materialized in front of him. 

A university library? Groundbreaking. 

But there you were, reaching up towards a high shelf for a specific book and looking back over your shoulder, hoping the object of your fantasy would notice. Unfortunately for you, a Demon was in your dream now, and he was in the driverseat.

 

In this dream, your Demon was fully human in appearance. His horns were no longer visible, instead the main focus was his curly hair perfectly styled on top of his hair, and his eyes weren’t their usual black voids, but a dark brown that could see right through you. He slowly walked up behind you, allowing his footsteps to be heard on the hardwood floors. You looked back at him and there was a brief flash of confusion, but it quickly turned into a smirk as you raised your hand above you for whatever book you were trying to reach. 

In dreams, Earth-bound laws and physics didn’t matter, so you were nonplussed when he was suddenly at your back, hands curling around your hips and lips lightly brushing the shell of your ear. One of his hands swept up your side and up your extended arm, his long fingers lacing yours and securing it against the bookshelf. The action had you shuddering against him, your ass perfectly wiggling against his front. 

“Need some help?” He whispered, dragging his lips along your ear as he spoke. 

Another shiver ran through you. 

You turned your face towards him, feeling his breath on your cheek. 

“Maybe a little…,” you purred back at him. 

“Good thing I’m here then,” he said with a clear double meaning. The sheer arousal that was emanating off of you felt like a breath, no, a rush, of air into his lungs. The kind you take in after holding your breath for a long time. A low growl formed in his chest as he used the hand that was still wrapped around your hip to turn you around to face him. 

Even though his natural state was glamoured to look human, his own personal style of thick black kohl rimming his eyes remained, and the way you were looking at him suggested you approved of said choice. Your shoulders melted against the stacks, but your pelvis pushed forwards towards his own. He gladly indulged you and rolled his hips right back, smirking at the way your breath caught in your throat. 

You suddenly found both of your arms held above your head with one of his hands, while the other toyed with the hem of your skirt. 

Because of course you were wearing a skirt in this dream. 

The demon wedged his foot between yours, spreading your legs apart with an inhuman-like grace that had your lower lip sinking beneath your teeth  and staring at him through your eyelashes. 

The scenario was terribly cliched, but there was something about you that made the Incubi intrigued by it. He wanted to see how this played out. 

The hand on your skirt disappeared under the fabric, lightly touching the flesh of your thigh. Another tremble shook your leg. You were so fucking sensitive, it was driving him insane. 

You needed his touch. 

His touch. 

His fingertips drew patterns on your skin as he made his way up to where you needed him most. However, even though he was technically a Demon, he still had a shred of ethics about him, and he paused his hand. 

“Tell me what you want,” he requested in a rough voice. 

Your eyebrows twitched a little at the question, but you answered quickly, “you.”

That wasn’t good enough for him, though. 

“Are you sure?”

Your breathing got even heavier, “yes.” 

With that, he surged forward and crashed his lips onto yours, realizing he himself was dying for a taste too. His hand flattened against your thigh, kneading your flesh before continuing upwards. His fingertips were met with soft lace, and before he could fully toy with it, it vanished. 

He hadn’t been the one to do that. 

You did, taking back control of the dream. 

Oh…

The Incubi smiled against your lips, and relinquished his control over your dreamland. He was officially the passenger now, and he wanted to see what you could come up with. 

With your lace panties freshly vanished, you spread your legs even farther and tilted your hips forward, practically offering your drenched pussy to him. 

The heat he could feel coming off of you had his fingers shaking, and he wasted no time to slide his fingers through your slit. Your arousal coated his digits as he familiarized himself with every crease and fold you had, mentally mapping it out and trying to memorize you. Your flesh was so soft to him, a whimper threatened to escape his throat as he parted your mouth and slipped his tongue inside. 

He teased your entrance briefly, before sliding upwards to your clit. He rolled the swollen bud between his fingers, and he pulled back from your face just far enough to ear you cry out. 

That beautiful sound, he thought. He needed to hear it again. 

It sent a jolt through his body not only in the dream but back in your bedroom as he sat next to you. His hand gripped your wrist a little tighter, not wanting to risk losing the connection. 

His thumb was planted on your clit, sloppily circling it and giving it just the right amount of pressure, letting your mewling sounds and jolts of energy guide him. His middle fingers teased your entrance one more time before slowly slipping inside, enjoying the stretch almost more than you did. You were dripping down his hand at this point, and he wished for a second that he could feel it in person as opposed to in a dream like this, but he brushed the thought away as you threw your head back and gasped as the tip of his fingers curled upwards and grazed your g-spot. 

The cheeky side of him wanted to tease you more, make you desperate and whiney, but you had other plans. Even in your heightened state, you still had enough wherewithal to wait until his fingers curled just right to clench around them and hold them where you wanted them as you grinded back down onto his hand. 

The Incubus’s eyes flew open and he watched you wrench one of your hands from his grip above you and send it down to cup his own arousal through the jeans he had decided on for this dream. He bucked into your hand and bit down on your lower lip, a hint of frustration evident in the strangled sound coming from his throat. He released your other hand to grip what little of the bookshelf he could, while your newly free hand immediately went for the curls at the nape of his neck and tangled them around your fingers. This sent a fresh whine from the Incubus, and his resolve was threatening to give way. Part of him wanted to take back control, let you know who was steering this dream, but the other part of him was so intrigued by your assertiveness that he was this close to completely surrendering to you and drowning in your energy and rendering him pathetic in the eyes of other demons. 

The thumb on your clit increased its speed and your own movements against his hand began to get sloppy. You felt your high bubbling up inside you, and there wasn’t a single cell in your body that was going to get in the way of it. Your walls clenched even harder onto his fingers, to the point where they could barely move but neither of you cared. 

“Come on…give it to me…,” was roughly whispered against your mouth as his thumb harshly pressed down on your clit, and with a cry your vision went white and you shattered around his hand. For what seemed like minutes you convulsed and shook for him, shouting expletives to the ceiling as you didn’t even know his name. 

Now this was when any other Incubus with a modicum of common sense and decorum would swiftly exit the dream and jet off to the next human of the night, but he wasn’t ready to leave. The longer an Incubus occupied  a human's dream, the bigger the risk of them becoming a memory. The standard practice was to give and feed off a singular orgasm from whatever human, and then never see the same one again. That way humans wrote off their naughty dreams as hormonal build ups and mundane desire, nothing more. They’re meant to be mischievous phantoms, not figures haunting your dreams. There were other Demons for that. 

Instead, he continued to breathe raggedly against your cheek as he worked you through your orgasm. As you came down, he reluctantly withdrew his fingers from your core, and popped them in his mouth, wanting to savor your release for himself. 

Your eyes met, and you both seemed to be silently asking the same question of, “who are you?”

He couldn’t leave. He wanted to truly have you. What’s the point in being a Demon if you didn’t break the rules? Who put those rules in place in the first place? They could go fuck themselves. Even if he could only feel you wrapped up around him in a dream and never in the real world, he needed it. 

His still-damp fingers gripped your shirt and nearly ripped it off your head before doing the same with his own shirt. 

His enthusiasm surprised you and you held back a giggle as you took turns getting your clothes off as fast as possible. The Incubus’s lips locked back onto yours, and the faint taste of you still lingered in his tongue. He reached down and gripped the back of your thighs, lifting you easily against the stack. The shelves and books dug into your back but you welcomed it as he lined himself up with your entrance. 

The feeling of his thick head gliding through your folds was brief before he sheathed himself inside you. The force and sensation had you biting down on his bottom lip harder than you should have but you were too focused on the sudden fullness you felt to care. Your eyes were rolled back into your head as you adjusted to him. 

The Incubus inside you was gripping your hips like he was afraid you’d float away if he let go. He thought he had been prepared for this but the softness of your walls, the way you squeezed him, and the force of you biting down onto his lip had him uncharacteristically dizzy. He leaned his forehead against yours, letting his lip rest between your teeth as he remained still inside you. 

You released his lip and whispered, “I need you to move…” 

His eyes darted up to you and bore into yours as he reared back and slammed back in, causing you to arch your back away from the shelves. The Incubus dipped his head and took one of your nipples into his mouth, humming around it as he picked up his pace. 

The both of you pawed at each other as you moved together, nails digging into skin and teeth nipping and biting wherever they could reach. This wasn’t the time or place to go slow, and you both knew it. This dream was driven by need.

It wasn’t long before your second high crept up on you. At some point a hand made its way  in between you and was working your clit feverishly, By now you were a mess of bleary eyes and sweaty limbs. You couldn’t form words as he pounded into you, clinging onto him after giving up the idea you could meet his thrusts. 

“You gonna let me have it again?” He spoke into your ear before leaving an open mouth kiss on the space just under it. “Let me feel it this way?”

Oh, it was inevitable, you could feel the coil inside you tightening up like a spring, and any moment now it was going to snap. 

“I wish you knew how good you f-feel,” a growl rumbled in his chest, interrupting him, “squeezing…me…” 

You tried to respond, but all that came out of your mouth was a reedy sigh. 

“Look at you, dumb for it,” he teased as he tilted his hips, causing his cock to hit an even more delicious spot deep within you. 

It was too much. You were too overwhelmed. Between the tight grip on your ass, the kisses along your neck, the thumb working your clit, and the angle and force behind his moments, you were a goner. 

He felt you tighten up even more first, and your walls started fluttering around him as your legs shook on either side of his hips. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, but you forced your eyes to stay open the whole time. With one last look into your watery eyes, he slammed himself into you one final time before he emptied himself. 

His eyes snapped open, and he remembered where he actually was: in your bedroom. He slowly let go of your wrist, severing the connection completely. 

It was over. 

The Incubus  stood up, backing away from your bed and watching you roll over onto your stomach. He needed to leave. He had been there for far too long. The energy from your dream was still roaring through his body, and your television was starting to flicker because of it. He couldn’t risk being seen. No, that was a rule he could not break. 

“Goodnight, Sweet Dreamer,” he whispered before exiting your apartment the way he came and into the night. 

~!~

That was eight months ago, and the Incubus lasted two weeks before he came crawling back to your Dreamland. That dream was a little more creative, the both of you ending up making out at some nondescript house party, kicking red solo cups out of the way as you backed him up against a wall. 

A week later, you were in some corn maze, and like most dreams it was confusing at first at who was trying to find who, but you ended up jumping on him in the center of the maze surrounded by bunnies and a pumpkin patch. 

A notable one was where the Demon was a rock star, and he had you bent over a couch in some random green room of a stadium. That one was fun. 

He tried, he really tried to keep his visits random and not too close together, but he failed miserably. At this point, he was a reaccuring dream to you, and he was starting to feel bad because you still didn’t know what he was. 

He tried keeping himself distracted by hanging around in a pocket dimension in Hell that his brothers were fond of. It was one they often found themselves at because of the quiet atmosphere compared to the rest of Hell. It wasn’t anything fancy, but a seemingly endless bar where a Demon could sit down, order any little treat they wanted, and relax after a long day. 

The four Demons were sitting at their usual table, catching up and sipping their respective beverages. 

“Are you actually going to drink that, Josh?” His twin teased as the Incubus had been sat at the table with the low ball glass held against the side of his forehead white he leaned on his elbow. The chilled beverage was refreshing resting where his ebony horn protruded from his forehead. 

“Leave me alone,” he mumbled before bringing the glass to his lips and taking a gulp. 

His twin, Jake, snickered across the table, “what’s gotten into you lately anyway?”

Josh gave him a hard look, “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Please. You haven’t been out in forever and whenever you are with us you look like a kicked puppy.” 

“Have you considered that you might be the reason for that?”

Jake’s mouth twisted into a frown, he knew better. 

“Anyway,” Josh announced, trying to change the subject, “we’re here to celebrate Daniel’s promotion!” He turned to his left and gestured at the tall curly haired demon. His newly-grown leathery wings flexed at the attention. He still wasn’t used to having them yet. 

In Hell, certain physical attributes were only obtained from being “promoted.” Otherwise known as making the right deals with the right Demons and having connections. Out of the four of them, he was the first one to achieve wing-status. The rest of them just had their horns that they were born with. 

Josh hoped to have wings one day but it was rare for Incubi to get the opportunity. 

“How do they feel?” The other brother, Sam, asked on Josh’s right. Sam was the youngest out of the four but he had a prowess and drive that made it obvious that his wings weren’t far behind Danny’s. It made the obvious competition between the two oldest twins even more tense at times. 

“They feel great, honestly but they’re awkward as fuck at times.” He looked down as the farthest point of his wings kept brushing the floor from where he sat. 

They settled back down into idle chatter, but Jake was not satisfied with Josh’s earlier answer. He wasn’t going to pry with everyone there, so he waited until Sam and Danny took off for whatever mischief and turmoil they had up their sleeves. 

Jake was flat out concerned with his twin, “tell me what’s really going on,” he pressed in a soft voice once they were alone. 

Josh sighed. Keeping the last eight months a secret from everyone, even Jake, was one of the hardest things he had done. Keeping something like this from his brother was making the situation even worse. 

“I did something…well, I’ve been doing something…” he muttered while staring at the ice cubes of his drink. 

Jake nearly snorted, “of course you have, you’re fucking a Demon for Lucifer’s sake.” 

Josh shook his head, “no…it's not something like that.” He took a deep breath and continued, “there’s this girl, well, human girl, and-”

His twin sighed heavily, “not a human, Josh…” 

Josh gave him a warning look, “are you going to let me talk, Jake?” 

“Fine. Explain.” 

“It wasn’t supposed to be anything, I promise,” the Incubus went on to tell Jake a summary of the last few months, keeping most of the salacious details to himself. But the way his dark eyes lit up as he described you, dropping details he had learned from your dreams, listing parts of your personality that you didn’t show to anyone else due to your subconscious, gave his emotions away.

“She’s just a random human, you’ll get over it and find something else to obsess over,” Jake concluded, not wanting to encourage this. 

“Is that really all that you took from that? I don’t want to get over her.” 

“Are you in love with this human, Josh?” 

The silence from across the table gave the Demon his answer. 

“Does she know what you are, then?”

Another beat of silence, this time Josh swallowed the rest of his drink and sat the glass on the table in a clank. 

“This is not going to end well, man.” 

Josh gave Jake another withering look, “don’t you think I know that?” 

Jake’s eyes softened, as did his voice, “you should’ve told me sooner.” 

“...and get lectured by you? No thank you.” 

“I wouldn’t-,” he sighed, “I wouldn’t have lectured you. I just know how you’ll be if she ends up getting hurt from this. You’re not fun to be around when you’re guilt-ridden. I don’t like seeing you that way.” 

What Josh hadn’t told him, was that you had seen parts of Josh he kept hidden from others too. After the first month or two, your dreams weren’t always overtly sexual. The two of you did talk sometimes, but not a lot. You learned each other’s names finally, and you hadn’t batted an eye at his name since it was so common. The banter you shared was easy; he even made you laugh more often than not. Falling in love with you wasn’t part of the plan, but it crept up on him, and he didn’t have the willpower to fight it. He didn’t want to.

“You’re seeing her tonight, aren’t you?” 

This time he avoided Jake’s gaze, but he answered, “I wanted to, yeah.” 

“Just be careful? Ok?” 

Josh looked up and nodded at his brother, before disappearing from his seat and reappearing outside your house. It was nearly three AM in your time zone, and he knew you were fast asleep. He stared up at the window he had come to know was your bedroom, The television light flickered and flashed. You always needed background noise to sleep, he had learned. 

In a blink he was in your room, staring down at your sleeping form. The slight pout on your lips made him smile. He sat down and took your hand and started to drop into your Dreamland. He had been so focused on you that he had missed the book, “Lucid Dreaming: Easier than you Think!” resting on your nightstand.

The scene before him was charming. Josh found himself standing in a forest, surrounded by green trees and the ambient sounds of nature. The path he was on led to a quaint A-frame cabin in the middle of a clearing. The lights were on inside, and he knew you were in there. 

As he opened the door to the cabin, he found you sitting on a couch with a book in your lap. You looked up at him and smiled warmly. 

“Hey you.” 

He smiled back and made his way to the couch and sat down. You threw your book to the side and moved to straddle his lap, smile growing even wider at being with him again. His hands reached up to cradle your face as you melted into his kiss. It felt so normal to see you again, so familiar, Josh didn’t even sense the change in your demeanor. 

The two of you made out for a good while, before you pulled back to look at him. 

“Took you long enough to get here, you’re a little late tonight.” 

That was an oddly pointed question, but he tried to play it off, “I am?” 

You sat back on his thighs and draped your arms on his shoulders, “Yeah. Normally you’re here earlier.” 

Josh shifted awkwardly beneath you. This was different. You were still you of course, but something was off. He wanted to keep playing along, but he didn’t want to make it worse. 

“You don’t feel real sometimes,” you started before kissing him again. His hands gripped your hips in the way he knew you loved, and he started to relax against you, but you pulled back and asked, “are you real, Josh?” 

He froze, his eyes stared into yours, unsure how to answer. 

“I-”

“They say that every face you see in your dreams isn’t new, that it’s always someone you’ve seen before even for just a second, and I can tell you with confidence that I had never seen you before that night.” 

Oh, shit. You had always taken the reins in your dreams, but not like this. This was more direct. This was…lucid.

He whispered your name, before confessing, “..yes…I’m real…”

You pulled back a little further to get a better look at him, “then what are you?”

This was it. This was when he had to come clean. You had purposefully set a trap for him, knowing he couldn’t resist you. He wasn’t even going to fight it, because it was completely his fault. 

He reached up and touched the side of your face, his thumb finding its home on your cheek, “my sweet dreamer…I-”

“Don’t call me that right now. Tell me the truth.” Your whole body was tense and rigid, as if you were bracing yourself for his answer. A good call on your part. 

He took a few deep breaths, “I’m…I’m an Incubus, love.” 

You stared at him, unmoving.

“Which is a kind of-”

“Demon?” you finished. When he nodded, you scrambled off of his lap and backed away from him, standing in front of the cabin's fireplace. Several different emotions swept through you, “you don’t work for the Devil, do you?” 

Josh straightened up in his seat, “no of course not, He’s very picky about who he works with and there’s no way he’d entertain even looking at someone of my rank.” 

“So Hell is real?” 

“Yes.” 

You looked at your feet, “does that…does that make you evil, Josh?”

His face started to heat up but he explained, “the concept of “good” or “evil” is a very human one, my love. It’s not that simple. Demons…we’re not ‘evil’ in the way humans make us out to be, just like Angels,” he made a face at the mention of such creatures, “aren’t inherently ‘good’ either.” 

“Angels are bad?” 

“I wouldn’t say bad…but they’re annoying to run into. They’re more vengeful than people think.” 

You stood there silently, taking it all in. 

The Demon before you continued, “you can’t think of Heaven and Hell being opposites of each other. They’re more like…different neighborhoods on either side of the same town, so to speak.”

“Well…you wouldn’t be the first Demon named Josh that I’ve met…,” your poor attempt at a joke to break the tension didn’t land very well, but your face softened towards him. 

Now it was his turn to look down at the floor, “if you never want to see me again, I understand and I’ll respect th-”

“Can we only meet here, in dreams?”

He stared at you, “no…I exist in all realms, not just the Dreamlands.”

You sniffed and squared your shoulders, “good. Now let me wake up.” 

The panic set in, you didn’t know that he looked a little…different in the waking world, “No, no you don’t have to-”

But it was too late. The Incubus was catapulted from your Dreamland and sent back to the earthly plane with a force that nearly sent him to the floor of your room. The connection was severed, and you were starting to stir in your sleep and sit up. The room was pitch black except for the glow coming from the television. It cast Josh in a perfect silhouette, but the inevitable was coming. 

You reached for your lamp, still a little bleary eyed from sleep when his voice stopped you.

“Wait, love,” He sounded exactly the same as he did in your dreams, and being able to hear him with your actual ears made your chest tighten and warm. 

“What?” you asked, confused. 

“I just…I look a little different than how you’ve seen me…,” his voice was so soft, almost defeated. “I just don’t want to scare you any more than I already have.” 

“I’m a big girl, Josh.” 

“I know, I know love, I just-” 

You didn’t let him finish before you clicked on your lamp, illuminating the small room. Before you looked up you turned off the tv, blindly pointing the remote at the screen. The only sound you could hear was your own breathing, and his. 

Slowly, your eyes lifted up to look at the Demon sitting at the foot of your bed. He wasn’t so different from your dreams, his kohl rimmed eyes were still their warm brown, his hair was still curly and unruly, the shaved sides accompanied by two black horns-

Horns?

They were black, a little shiny under the light, and curved backwards into his curls. It was certainly different, but they looked perfect with his sweet face. 

“You were worried about your horns?” 

HIs face reddened and he finally looked up at you, “M-my eyes also look different…but I didn’t want to throw too much at you all at once….” 

“Josh, show me.” 

He took a breath, and allowed his true eyes to appear. They were fully black, exaggerated by the kohl that lined them. The combination of his eyes and the horns certainly completed the demonic look, but it didn’t scare you. 

In fact, you felt a little emboldened, and threw your covers off your lap and got onto your knees.  Slowly, you crawled down your bed to him before straightening back up, making him look up at you. The black voids were lined with worry, as if he was waiting for you to scream, run, or both. Instead, you gently placed your hands on his cheeks. He relaxed slightly in your hands. 

“They’re beautiful, Josh,” your comforting  words were referring to both his horns and his eyes. 

This made his shoulders relax and he melted his cheek into your hand, “they’re not too much, love?”

You smiled, “honestly I was preparing myself for hooves and a tail.” 

The Incubus made a disgusted face, “I might be a Demon but I am not a Satyr.”

His tone made you laugh, “ok then. Can I touch them?” Your hand raised towards one of his horns. 

You wanted to touch them? He nodded and cast his eyes down. 

Tentatively your fingertips grazed the hard, ebony surface. The touch alone made him shiver, as his horns were sensitive. It had been awhile since someone had truly touched them like this. 

“Do you like that?” 

He looked back up at you, “yes…” 

Your fingers fully ran up the horn to the tip and back, truly feeling it. You noticed the action had him breathing a little heavier, and you softly wrapped your whole hand around it. The Demon made a sound low in his chest, almost like a purr. 

“They’re really sensitive, huh?” 

“You have no idea…” He paused, “Like I said earlier, if you want me to leave I’ll respect that.” 

You smiled and straddled his lap, facing him straight on now. 

“Kiss me, Josh.” 

He couldn’t believe what was happening. You weren't running, you weren’t scared, you still wanted him. Josh nearly crashed his lips onto yours, relief flooding his system. 

You melted into him like you always did, and being able to feel each other in the corporal world was even better than the Dreamlands. He felt so solid against you, his curls were even softer as you tangled your fingers in them. 

Soon, you felt yourself get pushed back onto your bed, your Demon climbing on top of you. It felt so natural to do so, as you technically had done this with him dozens of times, but this time it was real. You could take your time with each other and actually mean it, as time moved differently in dreams. Now you could feel him minute by minute, and the thought had your heart racing. 

His lips found yours again, and you were both focused on truly feeling each other for the first time in the physical realm. There was no rush, no deadline, no anxiety of the dream shifting or changing, it was just the two of you, in your bedroom. His weight on top of you felt so comforting and familiar. He left a trail of kisses down your jaw to your neck, landing on your pulsepoint and sucking the skin into his mouth harshly. You arched your back and grinded up into him. You felt his lips smile against your skin as he grinded down on you, and his arousal certainly felt the same as it did in your dreams. He hadn’t been exaggerating. 

His hands reached under the raggedy t-shirt you had slept in, before looking back up at you for permission. You nodded and he nearly ripped the shirt off your body, sending it into the corner of your room. 

“Do I look the same?” The question left your lips before you could stop it. 

His eyes swept your form, seeing your hair fanned out underneath you, no makeup on as you often did in your dreams, his breath caught in his chest. He looked over your body, counting each freckle and mole, making sure each and every one was still there. Over the last few months he had memorized them all, wanting the image of you permanently fixed on the back of his eyelids. 

“Even better, my love,” he said sincerely before capturing your lips once again, pouring his built up emotions into the kiss. He then started kissing his way down your body, giving attention to both breasts before kissing down to the edge of your panties. His fingers hooked onto the sides and pulled them down. You lifted your hips to get them off all the way, and they were thrown behind him blindly. 

His dark gaze landed on your pussy, the hunger in his eyes evident as he spread your legs apart. He couldn’t hold back anymore and quickly descended upon your core. His tongue flattened out and spread your folds apart, and the taste that flooded his mouth had him groaning into your body and grinding his hips onto your bed. 

Your breath caught at the sudden sensation, but you bucked into his mouth as his tongue found your clit, needing more friction from him. As he devoured you, the sight of his horns on top of his head sent another wave of pleasure through your body. Curiosity drove your hands to lightly wrap around each of them, pulling downwards slightly to steer his face further into your pussy. Your folds practically fluttered from the force of the moan that left his mouth. 

So you did it again. 

And again.

And again. 

Until you were crying out his name as your orgasm took over. 

Josh barely gave you a chance to recover as he crawled back up your body, using his own magic to vanish the clothes he had on on the way up. His lips greedily crashed into yours, while his hand hooked your leg around his hip. His other hand reached down for his cock, running it through your folds.

The new, yet familiar feeling of is cock at your entrance sent a shiver through you, and you grabbed his face in your hands, “please, Josh,” 

He couldn”t help but be cheeky, “you want it, love?” 

Your eyes narrowed, “show me what kind of Demon you really are.” 

As if it was possible, his eyes got even darker at your request and he slammed himself inside you, nearly pushing you farther up the bed. It was his turn to cry out at the feel of you. His pace was brutal, but it was what you wanted. You locked your legs around him at the small of his back and clung to him while your lips peppered kisses up and down his neck, along his jaw, nipping at the skin here or there with your teeth. 

Your Demon knew you better than the back of his hand, and he was going to prove it before the night was over. He continued to slam into you, angling his hips in the way he knew you loved, grinding his pelvic bone perfectly onto your clit. Your nails dug into his back in response and that spurred him on even more, loving that he could turn you into such a mess this way. 

You were so close, teetering on the brink of your orgasm. One final grind on your clit with his pelvis had your back arching even harder, and you shattered beneath him. Your legs shook and your walls clenched around him. He continued slamming into you, chasing his own high and working you through yours. 

You were starting to come down when your gaze landed on his horns, and a thought ran through your mind. Your hands grasped his face and pulled it down as if you were going to kiss his lips, but instead you bypassed them and flattened your tongue on the front side of his left horn. Josh shuddered violently against you and he twitched inside of you. His hips thrusted one final time before he emptied himself as deep as he could. 

Not wanting to miss your chance, you blew some air onto the wet spot your tongue left behind on his horn, causing him to shudder again as he came down. He chuckled against your chest as he laid his head down, trying to catch his breath. 

For several minutes, the two of you stayed tangled up in each other, not wanting to leave the little bubble you had created. This time, Josh wasn’t forced away from you because of your dream. He could lay there as long as you wanted him to. 

You were too exhausted to even attempt to move, so you relished his weight on you. Cleaning up wasn’t something you ever had to worry about in your dreams, but here in the real world it was an issue, and you felt his release start to leak out of you. 

“Josh…” you whispered. 

He got the hint immediately and slowly withdrew from you, looking down at your combined releases for a second before disappearing into your hallway for your bathroom. Your apartment was small enough that it was the only other door available and he quickly returned with a warm washcloth to clean you both up.

Minutes later you were both back under your covers, your head laying on his chest as your fingers drew tiny patterns onto his skin. He could tell you were trying to stay awake.

“You need your sleep, my sweet dreamer,” he whispered into your hair before dropping a kiss onto your head. 

“Would you be there to greet me?”

He smiled into the dark, “I could…but I like being out here with you better.” 

You let out a yawn and relaxed further into his chest. You reached for his hand and held it to your lips, brushing them against his knuckles before holding it on his chest. You didn’t know what any of this meant for you, but what the Demon in your bed didn’t know was that in the last eight months, you hadn’t had a single nightmare or bad nights sleep, and your intuition was sure it was because of him. 

“Will you stay?” 

“For as long as you want me to, my love.” 

His lips brushed against your forehead one last time before the both of you drifted off to sleep, not knowing what the future held for you both but knowing it was going to be better with each other in it. 

Epilogue: 

One human year later…

“Close your eyes, my love,” Josh said behind you. 

“What are you surprising me with this time?” You laughed as you did as you were told. 

“You’ll see. It's something I’ve been working on for quite some time.” The excitement and pride in his voice was evident. His footsteps came around in front of you, and your brows furrowed wondering what on earth it could be. He took a deep breath, “ok, open them.” 

Your eyes fluttered open and then immediately grew wide at the sight in front of you. There, in your living room, was your boyfriend, your Demon boyfriend, standing proudly with a new pair of bat-like wings protruding from his back. 

“How did you-”

“I knew a guy who knew a guy that was friends with another guy who needed a few favors and I volunteered. I didn’t realize he was a fucking Prince of Hell and he was so impressed by our little mission that he uhh…gave me a promotion.” 

Your mouth fell open, you knew he had been away a lot in the last couple months due to “Demon business” but he had kept parts of it vague. It was probably the one part of him you were still getting used to, but you trusted him enough by now that you weren’t too worried when he was gone for a couple weeks at a time. 

“So what does that mean for you…?”

He took another breath and stepped towards you, slipping his hand into yours, “I’m no longer an Incubus, love.” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “well then what are you?”

“Essentially, I collect souls now and not dreams.” 

“Pardon?” 

“When a person makes a deal with a Demon more often than not they sell their souls to them. Basically, when their time is up I get to take them to whomever they made their deal with and they get dealt with accordingly.”

You were still a little skeptical, “that sounds awfully busy…” 

He shook his head, “no this is a good thing, I get more ‘surface time’ with you now! I won’t be away as much.” He was full on grinning now and his dimple sank deeply into his cheek. 

Your eyes traveled from his sweet face to his new wings, the sunlight showing through the thin skin. He flexed them slightly under your gaze, happy you weren’t grossed out by them. Much like a year prior with his horns, you reached forward and grazed your fingertips on the surface of one. It twitched slightly under your touch and you looked back at your Demon. From the outside looking in, it was odd to be proud of your boyfriend's Demonic accomplishments, but you couldn’t help it. You leapt into his arms and kissed him, smiling against his lips as he held your hips and wrapped your legs around his waist.

Who would’ve thought that a Demon would make your dreams literally come true?

Fin

Tag List:  @dannyandthekiszkas , @readyforthegarden , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema, @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne, @twistedmelodies , @that-witchy-pan , @gold-mines-melting , @texas-bbq-pringles , @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface , @childinthegardenn , @char289 , @stardustvanfleet , @sunfl0wer-power , @holdingup-fallingsky , @bladenotblaze , @gretavanlace , @lipstickitty , @jjwasneverhere , @josiee-gvf , @peaceloveunitygvf , @musicislove3389 , @gretavanhockey , @gretavanazula

[faulty-writes]

So hi,how are you? Are requests open? If so could you write a headcanon for Tokoyami with a reader who was a goth style and looks super badass but is a sweetheart inside? Thanks

Yes hello, at the time you submitted this, my requests were open. Currently, they are closed, however. As a goth myself, I support this request! Let's get to it! I love support for minor characters.

Fumikage admired your style. The way you integrated black, red, and purple into your outfits was astounding. The lace, velvet, and elegant embroidery that composed your clothing had him speechless. Not to mention that perfect touch of make up that made his feathers stand on end.

You matched perfectly with his own dark aesthetic and shared interests. He found himself falling for the mysterious aura that surrounded you, and perhaps it was shameful to admit, but it was the very thing that made him eager to learn more about you.

"What!? Are you nuts man? Y/n is more intimidating than Bakugou!" His friends quickly dismissed the idea of him befriending you, but even if what they said was true, he sensed kindness deep within you. "I would prefer to find out myself, thank you," he wasn't going to be persuaded otherwise.

The two of you favored venturing to the library and on occasion, Fumikage would find himself engaging in conversation over horror stories and spell books. The two of you shared recommendations of reads, and he found himself at ease, even when he introduced you to Dark Shadow who tried his best to behave.

Like with his appearance, he noticed the stares and the unjust comments others would make about you. "I would like to ask you to stop speaking in such a way about Y/n," was his way of putting a gentle stop to it. Even if he was laughed at in response, Dark Shadow usually managed to scare them off.

You continued to surprise him with your unexpected kindness like bringing him his favorite snacks or little Wiccan gifts when he was feeling down. Dark Shadow would sometimes get jealous of the attention you gave Fumikage, so you'd usually make it up to him by spending time cuddling.

"I...hope this is acceptable to you," he panicked the first time he insisted the two of you take a late-night stroll. Even with the dim streetlights, he thought you looked like a beautiful God or Goddess who shared his love of darkness and seclusion.

At times, you'd get tired of the way people looked at you or ran away when you happened to walk by or be in the area. Their taunting whispers and fear of you just because of your outward appearance got old sometimes. But Fumikage was always there, acting as a pillar of unwavering support on the days you struggled, and was ready to face any form of darkness with you.

"I...I..." he was in shock the day you brought up adopting a pet and a little offended that you'd want a pet raven. Dark Shadow managed to talk you out of it. "What are ya nuts!? Fumikage tell them you're all the bird they'll ever need!" Although those words made him blush, he did agree. He wanted to be the only feathered creature you had feelings for.

Gothic-themed gifts were a priority for Fumikage, and he'd often shower you with vintage jewelry or darkly romantic gifts like black flowers. He hoped they served as a reminder of the darkness the two of you adored and the affection he felt for you.

"It would be an honor if you joined us," one of your favorite things to do with Fumikage was spooky movie nights. The thrill of watching horror movies while cuddling your feathered sweetheart was joyful. Although most of your classmates declined the offer to join the two of you.

Despite your intimidating appearance and the occasional feeling of not belonging, you realized what you and Fumikage had was special. Two souls finding each other amid darkness was beautiful, and the unique bond you had was certainly reminiscent of true love.

[gimmethatagustd]

okay I’m here like two business days later with that request because my adhd brain forgot about it lmao

GHOSTFACE!! YOONGI!! I added the picture of yoongi because I had a very ~specific~ yoongi look in mind when thinking of this loll. I’m thinking Halloween party vibes?? or any other way that a costume would make sense. idk I’m making this request late at night so my brain is half turned off. I’m kind of letting you take the reins here and make it as spooky as you feel comfortable with. like I said I’d love to see your take on this because I love your mind <3

You've had your eyes set on Yoongi for as long as you can remember. What you didn't know is that he's had his eyes on you, too.

↳ pairing: yoongi x f!reader

↳ rating/genre: BTS | 18+ | halloween | friends to... (?) | light smut | angst | dead dove

↳ wc/date: 1.4k | October 2023

↳ warnings: dubcon, knife play, blood play, yandere vibes, mc is afraid but also turned on, mc is confused and so am i, slut shaming, humiliation, lowkey gaslighting/victim-blaming, a toxic relationship at the least, vaginal fingering, open ending, i wrote this half asleep and without editing

↳ notes: i have no idea what the fuck this is 🥲 pls forgive me. idk how this happened

↳ masterlist / taglist

↳ what was jai listening to? freak - sub urban ft. rei ami

Halloween 2023 Masterlist

Clink. Clink. Clink. 

The wind kicks dry leaves across the sidewalk, swirling them around your feet. Twisting your torso around, you glance over your shoulder as you walk. One of your red stiletto heels falls in the crack between the slabs of concrete. Pain blooms in your ankle when you wobble. The sound of you sucking a breath through your clenched teeth is the only thing disrupting the still, crisp autumn air. 

Until you hear it again. 

Clink. Clink. Clink. 

It sounds like metal on metal, perhaps the jingle of keys or buckles knocking into each other as someone walks. 

Alcohol warms your cheeks and chest despite how revealing your red corset and miniskirt are. Still, you know that the sound following you ever since you left Jungkook’s Halloween party is real and not some alcohol-induced paranoia from walking home alone at two in the morning on Halloween. 

Jungkook hadn’t wanted you to walk, but finding an Uber so late at night would be impossible, and everyone else at the party had been too drunk to drive you home. 

Two blocks isn’t much at all.  

Clink. Clink. Clink. 

The sidewalk is empty when you twist around and try not to trip again. Streetlights cast shadows across the grass that could be people. Or animals. Or monsters. Creatures of the night. 

Taking a deep breath, you quickly unlock the gate that opens to wooden stairs leading to the backdoor of your apartment on the second floor. You rush up the stairs as quickly as you can in the stupid heels your best friend convinced you to wear because they’re sexy, and you both thought they might help you catch the eye of a certain boy. 

It wasn’t worth the trouble, though. The certain boy barely looked your way. 

For a second too long, you stall, fumbling with your keys to find the one that will unlock your backdoor. Your fingers feel numb from the cold, and your reflexes are dulled by whatever was in the punch Hoseok made. Perhaps that’s why you don’t know what looms behind you until its body has yours pressed against your door. 

Sticking your hands out, you try to stop yourself from hitting your face. It works, but now your arms are trapped between your body and the door. Your keys fall with a hollow thud, and for a heartbeat, the world is silent, like every creature in existence is holding its breath. 

Every creature except for the one crowding you against the door. It breathes, hot and heavy, against the shell of your ear, scattering goosebumps across your skin. You’re burning up from its body heat, the creature big and firmly pressed against every inch of you. 

But what makes your knees tremble isn’t the oppressive force of this thing sticking to you like a second skin. It’s the clink and then something cool and sharp pressed against your throat. 

You can’t swallow down your nerves without fear of your throat bobbing against what you guess is a large knife. 

“Are you scared?” a voice whispers. Soft lips brush the tip of your ear. Then a nose, buttoned and cold, drags along the side of your neck. “You’re being such a good girl, didn’t even scream.” 

Fear clutches your heart, but that voice strokes a fire in your core. It’s sick how you shiver against the man’s chest because you know it isn’t only because you’re scared of him. 

“You’re not funny, Yoongi,” you say with a shaky breath and do your best not to move too much when you talk. 

Yoongi chuckles into your shoulder, where he’s nuzzled his face. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.” 

The knife glides down your throat at the point with not enough pressure to break the skin but just enough for it to feel uncomfortable. 

“Are you gonna let me in?” 

It’s not a real knife. Yoongi is your friend; he wouldn’t threaten you. Or, at least, you think he’s your friend. He’d ignored you all night, though. 

“Did you seriously follow me all the way here at two in the morning just to scare me?” You elbow him out of the way so you can bend down to retrieve your keys. 

“Yeah,” Yoongi admits with a gummy smile. 

Inside your apartment, you can get a better look at him. His costume is just his regular clothes with a Ghostface mask, though he isn’t wearing the mask anymore. It’s tied to one of his belt loops. The side bumps against the metal of his belt when he walks. 

Clink. Clink. Clink. 

“You’re ridiculous.” 

Yoongi’s grin grows. “Jungkook didn’t want you walking by yourself.” 

“Then why didn’t you walk with me instead of following me around like a creep?” 

You kick off your heels and take ginger steps toward the kitchen, the balls of your feet throbbing. Out of the corner of your eye, Yoongi shrugs. His pretty black hair falls against his shoulders and curls into his eyelashes when he tilts his head to watch you. 

“You knew I was there,” he doesn’t ask, just smiles when you roll your eyes. 

Catching your wrist, Yoongi stops you from crossing the living room to the kitchen. His grip on you is bruising when he yanks you into his chest. It’s claustrophobic and makes your stomach churn when you twist your wrist, and Yoongi doesn’t let go. 

“I’m thirsty.” Your voice comes out as a whisper, can’t manage to get any louder. “Let me go.” 

“Interesting,” Yoongi murmurs. “I’m thirsty, too.” 

You follow his eyes when he drops his chin to peer between your bodies. At the same time, you feel the cool edge of the knife drag up your thigh. The tip eventually catches on the edge of your miniskirt. In one swift motion, Yoongi flicks the knife up and cuts through the thin, stretchy fabric. A thin line of blood sprouts from the shallow cut his knife makes up the inside of your thigh. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper, watching little dribbles of blood trickle down your leg. Heat spreads from the cut across your thigh and unfurls in your stomach. 

The dim lighting of your living room reflects in warm tones within Yoongi’s dark irises. Squeezing your wrist even tighter, he walks you backward until your legs hit the edge of your couch. 

“You liked it,” Yoongi points out with a tut of his tongue, his tone condescending and judgemental. The shame it stirs in your chest makes it hard for you to breathe. “Let me press you up against the door. Mark you up with this,” he twirls the knife around, making a show of how loosely he grasps it. 

“Yoongi.” 

Yoongi brings the knife to your lips to silence you. The tip glistens with your blood. 

“Keep quiet like a good girl for me, okay, sweetheart?” Yoongi kneels on the couch in between your spread legs. The position forces your ruined skirt higher up your thighs, exposing your sheer red thong. 

You watch in amazement as Yoongi drags the tip of his knife up your inner thigh until he reaches the edge of your thong. Lightly, he drags the tip along your clothed pussy. It doesn’t cut you, but you can’t stop shaking because it could, and you don't know what that would mean for you if you admitted that you kind of want it to. 

“Why are you–” 

“Shhh, don’t play so innocent,” Yoongi murmurs. He leans forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You dressed up so pretty for me. Look so good in red; I wanted to see more of it on you.” 

The knife presses against the crease of your inner thigh and slices upward, giving you another shallow cut while cutting you loose from your thong. 

You moan when Yoongi drags his cold fingers along your folds, dig your nails into his forearm when he plunges two fingers into your pussy and makes your muscles flutter.

“So wet for me, fuck, you’re such a slut,” Yoongi moans as your pussy greedily sucks in his fingers despite the press of the bloodied blade against your throat. 

"Yoongi, please," you buck into his hand, urging him to fuck you faster. Your thighs sting from the cuts, and your legs are wet with little streams of blood, but you've never felt so close to an orgasm so quickly in your life.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take good care of you.” 

Halloween 2023 Masterlist

all rights reserved © gimmethatagustd on tumblr & AO3

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

[megamindsecretlair]

Just One Taste

Pairing: Tyrone x Black!Fem!OC!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH! PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (fem and male receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, Dom fem, all consensual. Heavy use of n-word. Disrespectful Tyrone. Drug use. Tyrone POV. Mild Sub Tyrone.

Summary: Tyrone gets lost in a deserted town with his friends. The only place open is the library. They head inside and receive quite the surprise.

Word Count: 5,642k

A/N: Trying something new! Happy spooky Halloweek. I hope this fit the bill. It was majorly fun to shake it up a bit, do something a little new I hope! Listen, I need to go lay down myself!! Because sweet lawdt! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! I blocked over a hundred people today for no ages!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @notapradagurl7 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer

“Man, pull the fuck over,” Tyrone snapped. The car pulled over to the closest sidewalk and his friend put it in park. 

Tyrone climbed out of the car. The first thing he noticed was the chill. Burrowing cold whipped against his skin and he fought off a shiver. He sparked up, inhaling the weed and exhaling the stressful drive.

“Told ya’ll niggas which way to go and now we lost,” he muttered, mostly to himself. He was pissed. They were supposed to mob up in Vegas for the weekend, get out of the city and into something a little strange for the upcoming Halloween weekend.

But you can’t trust non-reading ass niggas. Tyrone knew it and, yet, he let them drive because he wasn’t feeling it today. He searched the area around him, noting the darkened buildings and dim streetlights. There was an eerie lack of cars around.

“Where the fuck did you take us to?” Tyrone leaned down into the open passenger side. His friend, Paul, was on his phone finagling with the GPS. 

“Ion know, nigga! I was on the 15!” 

Their other friend, Mike, who sat in the back seat slapped the back of Paul’s head. “You got us lost mu’fucka!” 

The two men got into a playful slapping match, calling each other names and cursing at each other. Tyrone stood up straight and took a hit. He rolled his shoulders and looked up into the darkened sky. He thought there were supposed to be stars and shit out here in the desert, without pollution from the light.

He scanned the area once more. It looked like some Scooby-Doo shit. There appeared to be a main street with a hardware store, general store, local restaurant, and a souvenir shop. There were buildings further beyond that, but the cruel California/Nevada night gave no indication of life.

The air felt empty yet tangible. Like there was an invisible screen just in front of his face. “Corny ass, niggas,” Tyrone muttered and took off down the street. Maybe if he found someone’s house, he could knock and get some help. He only hoped this wasn’t one of them racist in-between towns that’d shoot him on sight.

It’d be just his mu’fuckin’ luck to get shot in the boonies on his way to Vegas. Instead of getting shot back in LA. Wouldn’t that be hilarious?

Car doors slammed behind Tyrone and his friends called after him. “Aye, where you goin’?” 

“To mind my business, nigga,” Tyrone bit out. He wanted some sleep. He was so fuckin’ tired and the weed wasn’t hitting like usual. 

The streetlights overhead were spaced out so far apart that he was entrenched in shadow every time he made it past a beam of light. He sighed as he walked, wondering what the hell they were supposed to do with no service in a town like this. If they slept in the car, would they wake up to some old white mu’fucka with a shot gun?

Hell, maybe he watched too much TV. 

“Aye, what’s that?” Mike pointed a meaty finger towards the distance. At the end of the block, the streets rounded off. There was a tall, brick building on the corner with a lonely light over the doorstep. They were too far away to read the sign overhead. 

“Hopefully someone who can help ya’ll dumbasses,” Tyrone said. He passed the blunt to Paul and took off down the street, wishing he had a jacket.

This was the type of cold that sunk down into the bones as soon as you acknowledged it. And it was hard to shake. 

Tyrone made a beeline for that lonely beacon of hope, praying for someone to be inside and willing to help. Mike lumbered after him while Paul kept time with Tyrone’s quick strides. No one spoke. 

As they got closer, Tyrone noticed the sign. It was a library. 

“What’s a library doing open so late?” Paul asked. 

“Let’s just hope it’s warm. And they got food or somethin’. I’m hungry,” Mike complained.

“Yo fatass always hungry. I’m surprised you weren’t munchin’ on the car seat,” Paul said and snickered. He put out the blunt on the side of the building.

Tyrone cracked a smile. Mike pushed Paul who went jumping a few feet sideways. “Can ya’ll shut the fuck up? Damn.” Tyrone huffed and pushed into the library.

Inside, there was ambient lighting and no one at the front desk. A little bell rung from the open door and the trio whipped their heads to it, huffing quick and nervous laughs. 

“Scared, little nigga?” Mike asked.

“Nah, all I gotta do is hide behind yo fatass ‘till I can dip,” Paul said and laughed. He danced out of the way of Mike’s big paws. Tyrone stood in the entryway and raised his eyes to the ceiling. 

If he made it out of this bumfuck town, he was getting new friends. The library was decent and less cold than outside. There were tables spread out in front of the info desk, books scattered on them. There were shelves and rows of books stretching the length of the space and those little sorting carts he thought were only in movies.

There was the same sense of emptiness here that was just like outside. Perhaps the town was just that small that it didn’t have a presence or personality like in a bigger town or city. Whatever it was, it set Tyrone on edge as he looked around. He moved closer to the info desk, scanning it for anything he could use. 

Maybe it was just that kind of town. Maybe all of the doors were left open. Car doors too. Because who the fuck would steal from this empty ass town? 

Mike and Paul were still fussing at each other, slinging insults back and forth. Tyrone turned around, already annoyed and approaching irritated. “Can ya’ll shut the fuck up? And help?” 

Mike and Paul gave each other one last shove. Tyrone scoffed and took a step forward.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” 

Mike and Paul screamed. Tyrone flinched and turned to the source of the sound. To his right, a woman stood there dressed like someone’s fantasy of a librarian. She wore a button up white shirt, skin-tight black skirt, complete with a loose mini tie. The collar of the shirt was open, a few buttons loose down to show her generous cleavage. 

And she was thick as hell, straining the material of her outfit to near sinful levels. If she breathed too hard, the rest of the buttons would go flying everywhere and reveal the rest of the bra that poked out beneath the shirt. Her button down was tucked into the skirt with a skinny belt and non-flashy buckle. 

Her hair was tucked up into a high bun and she wore glasses loose on her nose. She was so fuckin’ cute and sexy at the same time. The stirrings of desire tightened Tyrone’s gut and his dick twitched. He flexed his fists at his side, trying to calm his racing heart.

“Damn lady! You fuckin’ scared us!” Paul yelled. He shoved Mike off of him, the two getting close after being so scared. Tyrone kept his eyes on the woman. She pursed her lips at the boys and shook her head.

“Have some manners when you come in here,” she snapped. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Paul said instantly. Mike and Tyrone stared at him. Paul has never said anything like that in all his life. Whatever spell Tyrone had been under looking at the woman, it seemed to have caught Mike and Paul as well. No one could resist glancing away from her for long.

The woman took a deep breath and finally turned beautiful eyes towards him. “Can I help you?” She asked.

“We’re turned around. We were heading up to Vegas,” Tyrone explained. He moved closer, wanting to be in her orbit. Nervousness crept up his spine. He scowled. The fuck did he have to feel nervous for? 

She looked at the girly watch on her wrist and then raised an eyebrow at him. “A little late isn’t it?” She asked. 

“Better than stuck in traffic tryin’ to get there for the weekend,” he said. 

She conceded the point with a twist of her juicy lips. Red lipstick drew his eyes to her mouth. There was a sudden vision in his head of kissing her and smearing it. He imagined red lip prints on his skin. He imagined licking it off of her.

The images were so vivid, he got hornier. Gettin’ bricked up by the minute. He cleared his throat and shook his head. 

“Um, we just want to know where we are so we can get movin’,” Tyrone said. 

“And get to food,” Mike said right next to Tyrone’s ear. He flinched and turned to see that Mike and Paul had moved without him noticing. They stood in a near perfect line, transfixed on the librarian. 

That comment seemed to soften her. She shook her head at the boys. “Have a seat, I’ll see if I can find something. May as well rest up before heading back on the road,” she said. “Do you want to help me look?” 

A secret smile played about her carmine lips. He took a step forward but her eyes weren’t on him, it was on Mike. Mike grinned from ear to ear and nodded his head. Swift disappointment hit Tyrone in the gut.

That was his boy, but what the fuck did she see in him and not Tyrone? He scowled as Mike disappeared down the stacks with the librarian, murmuring softly to each other. As soon as the woman was gone, Tyrone could think more clearly.

Paul shook his head and sucked his teeth. “The fuck she want with that greedy mu’fucka?” Paul flopped down into the nearest seat. Tyrone sighed and joined him, looking around at the space. 

Tyrone and Paul shot the shit as they waited for Mike and the librarian to return. While he wasn’t starving, he could eat. His buzz was faint but still there and it made his head go pleasantly funny. 

“I bet his ass eatin’ all the snacks and tryin’ to get her number,” Paul said. 

Tyrone huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Dawg, I’m just ready to go,” he said. He ran a hand down his face. How long had he been there? Thirty minutes? Forty-five? How long did it take to round up some crackers? 

“Nigga, shut up. You know fuck well you’d hit that given the chance,” Paul said. He fidgeted in his seat. He leaned forward, then back. Put his elbows behind him on the desk. Stretched out his legs. 

“Stop movin’ damn,” Tyrone said. He sighed and shook his head. He was definitely getting new friends after this. 

Shuffling near the back made Paul sit up straight, like a dog excited to see its owner. Tyrone gave him a weird look before catching the confused look on his face. Tyrone turned towards the sound. Mike had a dopey grin on his face, walking zombie-like towards them. 

The librarian trailed behind him, looking more or less happier than when she found three strange men in the library late at night. “No snacks for us?” Paul asked. “Did yo fatass eat it all?” 

Mike continued walking and sat down in the next available seat on their side of the table. Tyrone was the closest and shook Mike. He only kept the goofy smile on his face, hands placed flat on the table, and stared straight ahead. 

“Aye, what you do to him?” Tyrone asked.

“Excuse me?” The Librarian asked.

“Why he look like that?” Tyrone asked. He shoved Mike once more, but there was no one home behind Mike’s eyes. 

“Aye what the fuck, lady!” Paul yelled. He jumped up from the chair he sat in and rounded Tyrone to get to Mike. He shook Mike, pulling at his oversized T-shirt. Mike blinked a few times and looked down at his stretched shirt in Paul’s hands.

“What the fuck man!” Mike yelled and shoved Paul. 

“We thought she did something to you!” 

Mike adjusted his shirt with a scowl and shook his head. “What could she do? We had a muffin. Gonna make fun of me for that too, little nigga?” 

Paul looked between Mike and Tyrone. Tyrone trained his eyes on the Librarian who watched the whole thing like something was funny. Her lips were turned up like she and Mike knew a dirty secret.

Tyrone stood up and approached her. His head grew fuzzier as he approached, but he pushed on. Pushed past that feeling. He got into her face and stared down at her. He wasn’t a tall man but she also wasn’t a tall woman. And her small heels didn’t give her an advantage.

“We not here for games. Where the hell are we?” He demanded. 

The Librarian sighed and it was like he smelled the greatest scent in the world. It was something dark, alluring, like pomegranates. He leaned in, wanting to smell more of it. 

“You’re not far from the 15, I promise. You probably didn’t catch the turn off driving in this type of darkness.” 

“The hell you do to him?” Tyrone asked and cocked his head to the side.

“What are you talking about?” 

“What took you so long to come back out? Don’t take that fuckin’ long for a muffin,” he said.

The Librarian rolled her eyes. “I’m going to assume it’s the weed that’s making you paranoid. I asked for Michael’s help with some boxes that needed lifting. Some men like to help,” she said and pointedly looked at Tyrone. 

He caught the challenge, a burning in his chest to defend himself. “I ain’t know you needed help,” he said.

“There’s still a few things I need to move. Can you help me before you go on our way, screaming that I’m the devil?” She lifted a perfectly arched eyebrow and Tyrone looked at Mike. 

Maybe she was right. But Tyrone didn’t trust it. He looked to Paul who shook his head. Mike just stared at him blankly. The smell of pomegranate hit him again and his mouth watered. He looked back at the Librarian.

“I help you, you help me, that sort of thing?” He asked.

The Librarian shrugged. “I’m a librarian. I’ll help you anyway,” she said. “Won’t take as long as I did with Michael. I promise,” she said.

The way she kept saying his name made Tyrone scowl. He wanted to hear his name on her lips. He wanted her to scream it while he was balls deep inside of her. He blinked and shook his head. Where did that come from?

He found himself nodding anyway, following behind the Librarian. He watched her ass in that skirt that looked painted on. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear she didn’t have any panties on. He didn’t see any panty lines as she walked. 

She moved fast, disappearing down a few stacks. Towards the back, there was a door marked for employees only. She went inside and held the door open for him. It led to a dingy hallway with a few doors on either side. To their immediate left, there was a small kitchenette with a basket of muffins on the table. 

The Librarian walked past, heading down the hallway. “I’m Tyrone, by the way,” he said.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said.

He huffed, thinking he was going to hear his name from her voice. He followed her to an office. It was cramped, one lonely and neat desk surrounded by stacks of books and notebooks, papers, and a sorting cart. 

She pointed to a few boxes on top of a high bookshelf. “Can you please get these down for me? The last librarian was a giant and they’re too heavy for me,” she said. 

He nodded and used a step ladder to climb up and get the boxes. She was right, they were heavy. Probably filled with books and shit. He got to work, climbing up and down the ladder and moving boxes. He worked up a nice sweat in the office. A single drip of sweat slid down his neck and down his chest.

They made small talk while he worked. He learned that she was new to town and he asked her what made her move to some place like this.

“It’s quiet and the people are nice. That’s what I was looking for,” she said.

“Bad ex?” He asked. He huffed as he strained under the heaviest box yet. 

“No, just wanted a change. If that’s too heavy, don’t hurt yourself trying to move it. I can ask the shop owner to help. He’s a giant too,” she said.

Tyrone scoffed and worked even harder to scoot the box from the top of the shelf. Fuck that. If anyone was going to help her, it was going to be him. He made a sound as he got the box down and descended the ladder. Thank fuck it was the last box.

He set it down on top of the others with a smug smirk and looked at her. She returned his smirk and she leaned on one side, calling attention back to her figure.

Tyrone licked his lips and thought, fuck it. “If you need more help, we got time,” he said.

“Don’t think I’m the devil anymore?” She teased. 

He stepped closer, closer than he ought to. That pomegranate smell hit him again and he leaned in. “Never thought you were the devil. Just sayin’. I can help with anything,” he said. He cast his eyes all over her body, his fingers tingling with the urge to touch her. To see if he could peel her skirt off and lick what’s left behind. 

“Anything huh?” She asked. She laughed and trailed her long red nails across his chest. A shudder ran through him, desire spiking higher. His dick twitched, getting thicker. She moved from around him and fiddled with things on her desk.

Tyrone approached her, trying not to spook her. He pressed into her back, placing his hands on either side of her on top of her desk. He inhaled the heavenly scent of her, his nose pressed to the back of her neck. He didn’t know why he was being so bold. But he knew that if he didn’t at least try, if he didn’t shoot his shot, he’d forever regret it.

There was no way he was coming back to this town. But he couldn’t leave without a taste of her. Just one taste.

“Must get lonely in this town,” he whispered.

“What makes you say that?” 

“‘Cause you in this library instead of at home, letting some idiot fuck you to sleep,” Tyrone said.

The Librarian chuckled. “You always talk so nasty to strangers?” She asked.

Tyrone placed a kiss against her neck since she wasn’t stopping him. “Mhm, no ma’am. Just hate the thought of you here all alone,” he said.

“Why, you want to fix it?” She asked. She turned around, turning mischievous eyes to him. She laughed and for a split second…nah, that can’t be right. Her eyes didn’t flash red. Impossible.

He licked his lips and nodded, drawn once more to her lips. “Do you really want to fix it?” Her voice turned sultry and she drew her pink tongue across her lips. He followed the movement, undone by it.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. 

“Sit down, Tyrone,” she commanded. 

Tyrone’s legs bent without any thought to if there was a chair behind him or not. Luckily there was and he sank into the plush chair with a quiet sigh. 

She sank down to her knees and he was mesmerized by the way her skirt moved with her. How it didn’t rip or tear on the way down. He widened his legs and she smirked at him, running her hands up and down his solid thighs.

His dick tented his sweats, obviously showing his desire for her. He was near mad with it. Lustful. He ached to bury his dick somewhere warm and wet. She had the same idea as she eyed it. 

She moved her hands to the waistband of his sweats and started to shimmy them down far enough to free his dick. She palmed him, stroking him, and he bit his lip to keep from moaning. He was not going to bust off of a hand job. The fuck he looked like? 

She wasted no time leaning onto her knees and taking him deep. “Oh fuck,” he said and his hips jerked off of the chair. 

She took him to the base, suckling him and moaning around his dick. She played with the tip, swirling her tongue around the head and licking up any drop of pre-cum. She slurped as she released him and then ran her hand up and down his length.

“Wait, put yo mouth back on me,” he said.

“Did you like it?” She asked. 

“Fuck yes,” he said.

She did not return her mouth to his dick. She stroked him, driving him insane with the right amount of pressure and speed. But it was nothing like her mouth. He reached up to pull her head back down. He didn’t know why women wanted to be cute when he just wanted to bust.

She moved her head out of the way. “Put your hands down or I stop,” she snapped. 

Tyrone’s hands froze in mid air. His mind stuttered as her voice was equal parts erotic and scary. There it was again. That same flash of red in her eyes. She grinned but it was like a slash across her face. Still hot. Still a little scary. 

He was no stranger to a girl taking control in the bedroom. He didn’t always like it, but he wasn’t always the cool and calm mu’fucka he projected around LA. He fumbled the first time he had sex. A few times after that as well. 

He lowered his hands back to the arm rests and she ran her tongue across her teeth. “Good boy,” she said. 

She stroked him and stared at him, waiting to see if he’d try something else. When she was satisfied, she dipped her head and really got to work. Her mouth sucked him down like she was trying to eat him alive. Burning pleasure seeped into him and he threw his head back against the back of the chair.

“Won’t you moan for me, Tyrone? I like to know I’m doing a good job too,” she said and then returned to sucking the soul out of him. That’s exactly what it felt like. Like she was drinking from the very essence of him. 

“Goddamn,” he groaned, twisting his hips. Trying to push more of himself into her mouth. He licked his lips and made himself sit up. Made himself watch as his dick slipped in and out of her mouth. His hands gripped the rough fabric of the chair, dying to grab her. Hold her.

Saliva gathered on his dick. Her mouth was hot and perfect on his velvety dick. She added her hands, stroking as she slobbered. The room filled with wet suckling noises. Garbled saliva noises. She slurped him up and his climax hit the base of his spine. His balls grew heavier. The need to cum was overpowering but he did not want this to go too fast.

He wanted to stay in the moment. Stay with her mouth on him. Her hands on him. Her eyes fixed in absolute pleasure. He was used to women doing this shit as if it were a chore. As if it were something they thought he wanted in order to please them back. He wasn’t selfish. He didn’t want them to do anything they didn’t want to do.

But what a fuckin’ difference when he got with a real head hunter. He gave her all of his moans, all of his encouragement. Sweat poured down his temple. He watched and felt her work him, a near feeding frenzy.

He thought about baseball, the DMV, LA traffic, anything to keep this climax at bay. But then she sucked hard enough to sting and he threw his head back once more. “Shiiit,” he groaned.

His powerful climax hit the back of her throat. She hummed around it, swallowing every last drop. She continued to suck him, wringing it all. He fed her and wished he could cum again just to the sound of her humming around his dick. 

He heaved as she released him, inch by slow inch, and finally let him go with a wet pop. Her eyes were closed as she licked her lips. The lipstick was a little smudged and he groaned. Fuck. He wanted to go again already. But he’d never quite had the soul sucked out of him like that. He needed a moment to calm down, to get his bearings. 

“You beautiful boy,” she whispered, more to herself. He watched the emotions play out on her face as she wiped the corners of her mouth and sucked on her finger. 

“You talk about me being nasty,” he said.

The librarians didn’t do it like this back in LA. Maybe he needed to frequent the bookstore more. Find the quiet girls. Those were some closet freaks. Shy as hell though. Still might be worth looking into.

The Librarian chuckled and got to her feet. She moved away but Tyrone grabbed her hand. “Wait, lemme return the favor,” he said.

“That’s okay, baby. I got what I wanted,” she said. Her eyes were too narrow for him to catch her meaning. She caressed his face, those long nails sending arrows of lust straight to his dick. 

“Please,” he said and licked his lips. It wasn’t in him to leave a woman unsatisfied while he got off scott-free. He ain’t never begged for pussy. But dammit he wanted it. If her pussy was anything like her head game, he’d have to consider moving here. Maybe getting out of the game would be worth it. 

“That’s okay, baby. Really,” she said. She moved her hand from his face and he grabbed her again. He kissed the back of it and then flipped it over to kiss her palm. He left wet kisses on her wrist and up her forearm.

“Let me taste you,” he said. “Please?” 

She smirked at him. “What about your friends?” 

“Fuck ‘em. They ain’t my kids,” Tyrone said.

She chuckled and raised her eyebrow at him. He shook with restraint. Anyone else and he’d bulldoze his way in. Talk all kinds of nasty shit in their ear to get them to spread their legs. But she was different. She drove him wild. 

His skin was feverish. Desperate. He had to have her. There was no way he would leave without tasting her and seeing what made her squirm. What made her scream.

“Come on then,” she said. She said it like she didn’t believe him. That he couldn’t pleasure her. He wondered if some boonie fuck got to fuck her. If she was comparing them. He’d make sure she remembered him.

Tyrone stood up from the chair as she stood facing him, inching her skirt up her thighs and revealing that she, in fact, did not wear panties. He groaned as he watched her. She sat on the desk and spread her legs for him. For him.

He sauntered closer, running his fingers through her soaking folds. He dropped his head to his shoulder and groaned.

“You gon’ kill me,” he said.

She chuckled and ran her hands across his shoulders. She kissed his cheek. “Never,” she said. 

He lifted his head high enough to kiss her. The smell and taste of her made him bolder. He slipped his fingers inside of her, pumping her, seeing how much of him she can take. He slipped in with ease and he felt her clench around his fingers. 

Pride swept through him that she was so wet for him. He kneeled down, placing one of her legs over his shoulder. He kissed her pussy, inhaled the scent of her. He groaned in satisfaction and feasted on her.

He went in fast, flicking her clit. “Oh shit,” she said. Her hands gripped his shoulder. Her thighs squeezed his head and he went faster, flicking that little nub until it was nice and swollen. 

“Right there, right there,” she panted. Her voice rose in octaves. He kept it up, giving her exactly what she needed. He used his thumbs to open her up wider. Her juices coated the entire lower half of his face.

He dug in, licking and flicking, sucking, and moaning. She tasted so damn good, so damn divine. “That’s right, eat it, baby,” she encouraged. 

The praise hit him like a sack of bricks. It spurned him on, wanting to please her. He slipped his fingers back into her pussy, curling them and rubbing her spongy wet walls until she couldn’t speak. Couldn’t do anything but murmur and coo and grip his cornrows roughly.

She tensed before orgasming, twitching and jerking beneath him. He licked up what she gushed out, not ready to give up the ghost. All of her sounds were in the back of her throat. Animalistic, guttural.

He stood up, wiped his mouth, and then entered her before she could draw breath. Her eyes flashed red once more but it was just a trick of the light. He pounded into her ruthlessly.

He moaned and kept going. She was a welcome sheath for his straining dick. Her heated core felt so good, so right, that he became more animalistic himself. He pulled her by the legs to the edge of the desk, supporting her weight, and spearing her. 

He wanted to split her in half. He fucked her and her pussy gripped his dick like it had a mind of its own. He’d never met a woman like her. Will never meet another.

She only grew wetter and he slipped and sputtered as he pounded. He kept going, searching and reaching for the deepest part of her. 

“Goddamn, you feel so good. So - uh- good,” he said. 

She cried every time he went in, her face twisted in that perfect mix of ecstasy and pain. “Oh fuck, oh fuck. Deep-mm-deeper,” she moaned. 

He angled his hips and pulled her closer, giving all of himself to her. Her hand was on his chest as if to push him away. But she grabbed his shirt and pulled him close, kissing him. She licked his lips and he lost his rhythm. If she kept shit like that up, he wasn’t going to last.

“Let me cum in this pussy,” he begged. “Let me cum in it.” It was a desperate need. That same primal need to mark her or claim her. To fill her up. Humans lost their super sense of smell many evolutions ago. But he wished that anyone who came across her in the future would be able to smell him on her, in her. 

She wheezed as he finally hit a spot deep enough for her. She rocked on his dick as she moaned. Her teeth grew a bit sharper, her nails a little longer, and her eyes a wicked deep shade of red.

Her head was thrown back as he watched the transformation, watched as she seemed to swell with energy. “Fuck me, Tyrone. Fuck me,” she said. Her desk made scraping noises as he pounded into her.

His heartbeat was in tune with his strokes. He wanted to stop, needed to stop, but she felt so good bouncing on his dick. She trained those red eyes on him and smirked.

“Cum in this pussy,” she commanded.

He let go, his climax making his eyes cross. He shouted his release into her, pumping her full of his biggest load yet. He stuffed her full and it triggered her own orgasm. She squeezed his dick and he cried out, hoarse, losing his voice to her. Losing his mind to her.

He slipped out while she laughed and settled onto the desk. “Oh, I could gorge myself on you for years,” she said and cackled, throwing her hands across her chest and hugging herself.

He wasn’t tripping. Her eyes really were fucking red. He pulled his pants back up and backed out of the room. Her cackles followed him.

“Come back any time and see me, Tyrone!” 

Tyrone ran down the hallway, her cackling laughter seeming to follow him. He didn’t dare risk a look back. He flew past the door, past Mike and Paul. 

“What the fuck!” Paul yelled. No need to be told a thing, Mike and Paul raced after Tyrone. He didn’t stop running. Her laughter was in his head. In his skin. 

He ran to the car and hopped in the driver’s side. He yelled for the keys. Paul threw it to him and slipped into the passenger side while Mike just made it into the back. 

It was pitch black, not even the street lamps enough to pierce the darkness.

“Anytime.” Tyrone heard in his head. The tires squealed against the pavement as he threw the car in reverse.

Fuck Vegas! If there was one thing he knew, it was how to get the fuck home. He put his foot to the floor of the car and peeled off down the road. He was confused, still a little horny, but all around freaked out.

He swerved onto the freeway and put the night and that crazy bitch out of his mind. But the laughter still followed him all the way home.

&&&

You need some more in your life? There's more! The Secret Tyrone Files

[prisonhannibal]

bro I stopped walking a route home because I saw a fucked up dog but i walked there and I just saw another animal in the exact spot. am I going crazy or is it spooky there. also saw a shadow. scary! scary! I’m home now tho. they need streetlights!

[spooky-month-streetlights]

~SPOOKY MONTH: STREETLIGHTS~

we're starting a comic! Spooky Month: Streetlights is a comic + AU started by @trasheatingcrybaby and @sillymothinyourlaundry

Taking place after Hollow Sorrows. We'll be updating this blog with teasers, art, and ref sheets for our designs! The comic will be released as chapters alongside mini episodes detailing everything happening meanwhile with other characters!

Our asks are open for any questions you may have! As well as asks for the characters for fun so you can get to know this AU better! Just ask our primary blogs!

We allow Fanart, AUs of the AU and Headcanons, we do not mind what you do with our AU! Tag our blogs or use #SpookyMonthStreetlights so we can find your art. We'd love to see it!

Follow and stay tuned!

[no1frogfan]

Kaiju give me your number

Iwaizumi x gn reader

Word count: ~700

Tags & warnings: None

Notes: I was struck by a deeply silly idea tonight (don’t worry, it gets sillier!), so this is my first entry for the spooky sports collab hosted by the one and only @koushuwu! Check out the collab masterlist here! (Please forgive me, Mica! My original entry will be arriving some time in the future!)

The only warning you get is a muffled I’ll get it! before the door swings open. Standing inside is a shadowy figure, its vague spiky shape barely illuminated by the streetlights behind you, looking particularly ominous in contrast to the decidedly un-spooky R&B now thumping out into the quiet night.

You squint into the darkness. “Um…hello? I’ve got a delivery for-”

Suddenly, the shadow lunges forward.

You let out a scream, almost losing your balance as you lurch back a few steps. A hand (too leathery to be human) reaches out and…

…flicks on the porch light, almost blinding you.

“Hey! Turn it down I can't hear!”

You’re still blinking away the stars in your eyes when you see it — him. Them. Two of the firmest, cushiest pecs you have ever seen casting an actual shadow over a set of gorgeous abs, the skin smooth and soft, especially against the rough black scales covering his legs and arms.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over the music. What did you say?”

Despite the absolutely stunning man in front of you, your brain somehow manages to make sense of what he’s saying.

“Um…I have a delivery for-” you glance down at the receipt “-for Hajime?”

“Wait, aren’t you…?”

He does a double take. Holy shit, it's actually you. You’re wearing the same helmet (black and covered in stickers) and — he checks behind you — that's the same bike! A sleek green one with bright yellow panniers.

“I’m looking for Hajime. Am I at the right place?”

You check the receipt again, leaning back to squint at the house number above the door. It’s partly to actually check if you’re at the right address, but mostly to calm down by looking at something other than a stranger dressed as the world’s most attractive lizard man. You didn’t even know you were into lizard men.

“That’s me. I’m Hajime.”

He reaches up and you track the flex of his biceps as he lifts the lizard mask off his head. Oh fuck. His face is handsome too, and a little bit familiar — maybe from around campus.

You must have been standing slack-jawed for too long because he glances down at his bare chest and blushes. “Sorry, I’m- my friends thought sexy Godzilla would be funny...”

Ah, that would explain the dorsal spines.

(It’s actually a little annoying how apologetic he seems, as if looking like that was something to be embarrassed about.)

Almost on cue, two more huge men crowd into the doorway. You guess these must be the friends he’s referring to because they’re dressed as what can only be described as sexy pieces of bread, one slathered with peanut butter and the other slathered with jelly.

“Sweet, food’s here!” Yells the sexy jelly man, reaching out to grab the bags from your hands.

The sexy peanut butter man pauses and looks suspiciously between both your embarrassed faces, scrutinizing you closely before something seems to dawn on him.

“Wait a minute…isn’t this that biker you crashed into?” He whirls on you. “Are you that biker?”

“Mattsun…” Iwaizumi warns.

He — Mattsun — gestures at Hajime. “Do you remember him? Last month? He wasn’t looking and walked right in front of you?”

Recognition flashes across your face and a cheeky grin grows on Mattsun’s. “I knew it.” He leans in conspiratorially. “You know, he won’t shut up about you, wants to take you home to really apologize if you know what I mean.”

Your eyes dart to Hajime. He wants to what? With you?

“Enough!”

Iwaizumi hurriedly shoves the other man back and stuffs the signed receipt into your hands.

“Sorry about him.”

A few excruciating seconds pass while you both stand awkwardly in the doorway. Right. Guess not. His friend was probably just messing with you…

“Well, thanks.”

You sneak one last furtive glance at that sexy Godzilla chest before turning to leave.

“Wait! Do you want to…come in for a drink? Or something?”

“Oh! I can’t…I’m working.”

You gesture vaguely to your left, toward the restaurant.

“Right, obviously, right, sorry. That was stupid.”

Another beat of silence, though this time it's probably more excruciating for him than for you.

"God you're hopeless." Mattsun’s head pops up over Hajime's shoulder. “What he means is can he get your number?”

[collapsedglasshouses]

WOULD YOU SAY I'M WORTHY || THREE

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x OFC ; slight Nick Folio x OFC

DIVIDERS BY @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY: When Eden meets Noah, her life is anything but perfect. Her heart is far more broken than Noah can even guess at this point. Will he be able to mend the wounds he hadn’t caused?

WARNINGS: angst, fluff, eventually smut, mentions of grief/loss, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of mental health issues, mentions of illnesses

A/N: I like this chapter a lot, maybe it's the vibe idk. Let me know what you think and please consider reblogging! ♡

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit @lma1986 @missduffsblog @cookiesupplier @thescarlettvvitch @bngurngheart @dream-machine-love @arkiliastuff @vinyardmauro @lacktoesandtoddlerants @princessmarshmallowx @circle-with-me @thisbicc @xxkittenkissesxx @malerieee @smoke-in-diamond-shape @thatgirlforever5 @veronicaphoenix @justeli6

If you wanna be added to the story's taglist or to my taglist in general, leave a comment or message me privately!

MASTERPOST || MASTERLIST

Halloween night always felt magical in Eden’s neighborhood. The air buzzed with a sense of excitement and the moonlight painted everything around the houses in a silver glow. A gentle breezed carried the smell of wet leaves and pumpkins. Streetlights made shadows that danced on the sidewalks and most of the houses were covered with cobwebs and spooky decorations.

While Eden was getting ready she heard a couple of leaves crunch under the feet of families wandering the streets and the sound was mixed with the laughter of trick-or-treaters. Even though Eden wasn’t the biggest fan of her birthday, she loved how everything was tinted in a warm orange light by Jack-o’-lanterns. Her landlord had carved four of them and placed them in front of the small apartment building she was living in. The night held surprises around every corner and the air was filled with joyful chatter of kids in their bright and sometimes spooky costumes.

Meanwhile, Eden found herself standing in front of her mirror. Her hand ran over her hips as she admired her costume. The black corset dress hugged her curves seemingly perfect and the white Ghostface mask added a hint of mystery to her appearance. She couldn’t even recognize herself anymore. She normally was pretty reserved and quiet, only letting out her outgoing side when she had to at work, and this also reflected in her style of clothing. However, her skin was adorned with a few different stories. The tattoos that covered her left arm, her hip and her right leg all had their own tales to tell, but she usually kept them to herself.

Today should be different. Her whole arms and legs were exposed. She somewhat felt naked. As if the tattoos would suddenly start to talk. For a second, she thought about covering up but then she remembered something important. No one over there knew her. No one knew what the story behind her tattoos was. No one would question her about the things she desperately wanted to hide and suppress. No one over there knew her.

She could be a completely different person tonight. They only saw the confident woman under the mask. Not the exhausted self she was the rest of the time.

She sighed, pleased with herself, before putting the mask off again. She grabbed her phone and purse and left the house. Right as she reached her car, there was a small group of children running down the street. They were all giggling and showing the candies they had gotten to their parents that waited for them. A sad smile washed over her face for a second, but she decided to ignore the hole in her chest, before getting into her car and driving off.

As she arrived at the venue, the party was already in full swing. The music thumped through the walls of the house and Eden could occasionally hear laughter echoing through the chilly air. She sat in her car for a second, while starring at the building. There was no going back.

She took a deep breath, before grabbing her mask from the passenger seat and putting in on again.

“You got this, Eden.” She mumbled to herself, before getting her purse and then stepping out of her car. She walked reluctantly towards the front door and considered for a second whether she should write to Nick that she was here or simply enter, but then someone was already yanking the door open.

It was a guy, dressed in gray, with a cute racoon mask on his face.

“Woah, sorry.” The man yelped and held onto the door frame in shock but his tone quickly changed to a skeptic one. “And who are you?”

Before Eden could even answer him, a familiar face pushed Racoon-Guy to the side and beamed at her. “Let me through, Matt. This is Eden!”

Eden smiled to herself under the mask. His costume was unmistakable. He was Freddy Krueger, complete with the widely-known striped sweater, hat and glove with fake razor-sharp blades.

“Get in here!” Nick shouted at her over the music and carefully grabbed her hand to get her in the house.

“You look absolutely stunning, Eden! I didn’t even know you had tattoos.” He complimented the girl while leading her to the table where the drinks stood at.

“Thank you. You look great yourself.” She answered him shyly, while eyeing the table.

Until now, she had simply tried to ignore the crowd of people in the room, but the anxiety was slowly creeping into her bones. She hated crowds, she hated large amounts of alcohol, she hated parties. She asked herself again what she was actually doing there.

“Where is the birthday kid? I wanna at least congratulate him.” Eden mumbled to Nick as he held up a beer, asking silently if it was okay to open it for her. She nodded, while he answered. “I actually have no fucking idea. I lost him an hour ago.”

Eden nodded while taking the beer Nick held to her. She lifted the mask for a short second to take a sip, when she remembered. “I actually can’t drink. I drove here.”

“You can sleep in my room, if you want. I have a spare couch.” Nick smiled at her shyly and she blinked for a second.

“You live here?” She asked him and he nodded. “The boys and I all live here.”

Eden nodded before thinking to herself, if it was a good idea to crash at Nick’s place. It would be the first time in ages that she wouldn’t sleep in the comfort of her own home. But when someone accidentally bumped into her, she realized that she would probably end the evening in a panic attack if she didn't drink. So, she nodded. “Okay, I’ll sleep here.”

Nick smiled brightly at her, before nodding in a direction, signaling her to follow him. They walked to a small group gathered in the corner of the living room.

“Guys, this is Eden.” Nick introduced her to the people, and she shyly waved at them for a second.

“Woah, awesome costume.” One of the men, dressed as cupid, said to her and she thanked him quietly. “I’m Jesse by the way.”

Nick began to introduce the others after that. There was Jolly and Nicholas, dressed as pirates. There was Bryan, dressed as Marty McFly. And there was the raccoon guy that opened the door, Matt.

They all began to chat, while Eden found herself just standing next to Nick, following their conversation. Eden was feeling herself zoning out as the next hour passed. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but she began to notice how little she actually knew Nick and kind of felt out of place for a second.

She lifted her mask again, just enough to take a big sip of her beer, when she heard Jesse next to her exclaim in excitement.

“Oh man! I just thought we could get a glimpse of the girl Nick can’t shut up about.” He joked as Eden let the mask fall on her face again. She noticed how she blushed and was glad she had the costume to cover her face.

“Oh, shut up. I’m not always talking about her.” Nick protested and Eden saw how he tried to cover up his own blushing cheeks while drinking from his beer.

Eden didn’t know what to say, so she blinked for a second, before deciding to cover Nick’s back. “I think that needs to be a mystery for a bit longer.”

The guys chuckled while she patted Nick’s back for reassurance. He smiled at her shyly for a second, before they began to chat again. Eden’s gaze wondered over the room. She had been right, she knew nobody. But that was also relatively normal considering how little she left the house when she didn't have to go to work.

Her gaze lingered on a man standing at the other end of the room who seemed to be looking across the space just like her. He stood tall, with long brown hair falling down his back. Dressed as a vampire, he had this mysterious vibe about him, like he just stepped out of a spooky tale. The darkness of his costume matched his eyes, making him look both charming and a little bit eerie. Eden felt intrigued by him, maybe because he looked like he didn’t want to be there. Just like her. When he smiled at the guy standing next to him, Eden felt herself smiling with him.

Nick snapped her out of her thoughts, when he gently tapped her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” He wanted to know and gave her a sweet smile that she wished she could return to him, but her mask was still hiding her face.

“Yeah… Don’t worry. I just need some fresh air.” With that, the woman ran a hand over his arm and walked away from the group and out the door to the small garden. There was a pool and a couple of cozy benches. She was glad nobody was out there. She sat down and put her mask off.

Right now, she noticed how anxious she had been in there. Her whole body was tense. It had been years at this point since she last went to a party, considering the last years had been tough and definitely nothing to celebrate, but she hadn't realized how hard it actually had been for her to enjoy herself at a party.

She was snapped out of her thoughts, when she heard someone stepping outside. She turned her head and saw the vampire from before. The man stepped close to her and stopped for a second when he saw her sitting there. It took him a second to decide what to do before he pointed to the seat next to her on the bench. “May I?”

Eden nodded.

“I spent the whole evening wondering who was under that mask.” He cheekily exclaimed and ran a hand through his long hair. Eden chuckled, feeling a sense of ease in the man’s company. “Well… The secret is out now.”

After that they fell into a comfortable silence, both deep in their thoughts. Eden was surprised by the easiness that the man next to her radiated. Normally, she would have stood up and went back inside, but he seemed to calm her spirits without doing anything at all.

“Honestly,…” The man began, “I really hate celebrating my birthday.” Eden’s eyes shot to him, realizing he was the only reason she was there that night. “I didn’t know you were the birthday kid. Happy Birthday.” She exclaimed with a sweet smile on her lips.

“Thank you.” He quietly reacted, the corners of his mouth shooting up for a couple of seconds and Eden noticed it made him uncomfortable for a while.

“So, how old are you turning?” She then wanted to know.

The guy, with a casual grin on his face, replied, “24.” A brief pause hung in the air as Eden nodded at his answer, before she exclaimed, “Birthdays aren’t really my thing either. Parties even less.”

Curiosity sparked in him, Noah asked, “When’s yours then?”

Eden, a touch more shyly than she already was, responded, “Today.”

“Really?” He exclaimed with widened eyes, “Well, happy birthday to you too!”

She smiled for a short second, appreciating the sincerity in his wishes, while he asked her how old she turned.

“26.” She shortly exclaimed and looked straight ahead. She wanted to be normal about this, but her age always reminded her about how fast her young adulthood was slipping through her fingers.

“I’m Noah, by the way.” He introduced himself after a minute of silence. “Eden.”

“Eden? Where does that come from?” Noah asked, intrigued by the girl’s presence. Something about his gaze relaxed Eden. It didn't feel forced to talk to him. It felt like he genuinely wanted to make her feel better.

“I mean it is a really biblically name, but my parents just thought it sounded spooky and since I was born on Halloween and it’s their favorite holiday, they named me that.” She explained to him and felt how she slightly cringed at her statement. She really hated the reason behind her naming. If her parents had been strict religious people, she would have understood, but needing to explain that they just thought it sounded a bit scary, made her feel silly.

“Let me guess, you have siblings called Carrie or Annabelle to round up the spooky theme.” Noah joked, but when he saw her face, he stopped laughing. “Please tell me I’m wrong.”

“I have a younger sister called Raven. So, close.” Eden exclaimed while Noah took a deep breath.

“I think that’s both really pretty names but when I think of your parents, I see two really bubbly people who actually do not even know what the names originally meant.” – “Sounds about right.”

Eden tried to ignore how her cheeks became a slight tone of pink because of his compliment.

Noah noticed how Eden shifted in her seat and decided to change the topic. “Nick was talking about you the other day. Only positive things, of course.” – “Really?” Eden’s face must have been a deep shade of red at this point.

“Totally. He thinks you’re pretty cool.” Noah exclaimed, not telling her how Nick ranted about how beautiful she was the second he came home from that bar the first time.

Eden’s curiosity piqued, but her thoughts held her back from prying further. She wondered what Nick had said about her but decided to keep it to herself for now. Maybe some time she would be comfortable enough to ask Nick himself.

“And?” She asked Noah and he shot her a confused look. “What and?”

“Am I pretty cool?” She jokingly asked the vampire in front of her. He laughed at her question in a sweet tone and Eden also couldn’t help but grin.

“Yeah. I would say the statement ‘pretty cool’ is pretty accurate.” He answered her honestly and Eden felt her cheeks heat up again. She rolled her eyes while smiling and looked away. “You know, you don’t need to lie to me just because I’m sleeping here tonight.”

“I’m not lying, ghosty.” He justified his previous exclaim.

“Ghosty?” She asked him while laughing slightly.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be the sexy ghostface forever in my mind, Eden.” He boldly stated and Eden immediately felt warmth spread in her stomach. Did he really think she looked sexy?

“Maybe, you’re forever going to be the handsome vampire in my mind.” She then answered him, not really knowing where her boldness came from. Now Noah was the one to blush and Eden couldn’t help but feel proud. She didn’t think she would have this kind of effect on anyone with her words.

“So, you’re staying tonight?” Noah then wanted to know, fidgeting with his fingers, to calm his nervousness because of her compliment.

Eden nodded. “Yeah, I’m sleeping on Nick’s couch.”

Noah nodded.

Right as he was about to ask her something, the door to the garden was opened.

“Hey, Eden. I’m heading to bed. Should I show you where you're sleeping tonight?” Nick said to her, and Noah couldn’t ignore his facial expression. He wasn’t too happy to see the two of them alone, so Noah tried to ease Nick’s spirits by standing up and walking towards him.

“I was going to bed anyways.” Noah exclaimed and shot Eden a last smile, before patting Nick’s shoulders and getting back into the house.

Eden also stood up, trying to suppress her disappointment about Noah’s disappearance while shooting Nick a smile.

Nick signaled her to step into the house first, which she accepted. Inside, she noticed that almost everyone had been gone at this point and she wandered how long she had been sitting outside with Noah.

“By the way, don’t worry about your makeup. We have bought some remover because of the Halloween costumes.” Nick said to her after wishing everyone that was still downstairs a good night.

“Really thoughtful of you.” She answered him while trotting behind him to his room. When they entered it, she was met with a sweet view. The room screamed Nick. Some band posters where hanging on the wall, while a fishing rod stood in the corner. Some drum sticks randomly laid around.

“I’m sorry that I dragged you here tonight, Eden.” Nick exclaimed, while Eden sat down on the couch. “Oh, don’t worry. I had fun. Just not a fan of big crowds.”

“Kinda ironic, considering you’re a bartender.” Nick answered her with a sweet smile on his face, while grabbing a blanket and one of his pillows.

“Maybe, but at the bar I have a counter to keep people off of me.” Eden began while getting out of her tights. “And if they are mean to me, I can throw glasses at them.”

Nick laughed slightly, while going to his closet to grab a shirt for her to wear for the night.

“Do you maybe have a hair tie?” She sweetly asked Nick and took the shirt from his hands.

“I think, I’m the only one in this household who doesn’t own one.” Nick exclaimed with a lopsided grin and Eden nodded, realizing there were a lot of men with long hair in this house, but Nick was not one of them.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find one.” She exclaimed, before asking him where the bathroom was, and he gladly showed it to her.

When she entered the room, she locked the door after her and began her evening routine. Sadly, she wasn’t able to brush her teeth, but it was okay for one night.

Right when she was ready and changed, she heard a soft knock on the door and went to open it. The first thing she saw was a tattooed chest, when she lifted her gaze, she was met with a neck, just as tattooed. She felt how her heart began to beat fast.

Soon she looked into dark brown eyes. Noah.

“Sorry, didn’t know you were in there.” Noah excused himself as Eden needed a second to compose herself. She knew he was tattooed but she didn’t know that he had so many.

“Don’t worry, I just finished.” She mumbled and felt like she stuttered the words out. She was about to step away, when she remembered something.

“Do you maybe have a hair tie for me?” She asked him softly and he began to smile. His hair had been up in a bun, but soon he opened his hair to give her his hair tie.

“No, you can’t just give me that.” She wanted to protest but he grabbed her hand and put the elastic in it.

“Don’t worry, keep it. I have enough.” He answered, before they changed places, Eden now staying outside the bathroom.

“Thanks.” Eden whispered, still intimidated by his presence.

“Good night, Eden.” – “Good night, Noah.”