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megamindsecretlair · 8 months

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Pour Into Me, Part 1

Pairing: Incubus!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ 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 receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, breeding kink, possession kink, all consensual. Pet names. AU Tyrone.

Summary: Every night, you dream of the same man. A perfect man who makes all of your dirty fantasies come true. But tonight, you happen to see more than you bargained for.

Word Count: 3,578k

Part 2

A/N: Ahem, ya'll ready for more Spooky Tyrone smut? Happy Happy Halloweek! This was so hot and dirty to write. Enjoy my depraved mind. I got something wonderful planned tomorrow. Hopefully I can get it out before Halloween is over! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios!

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 @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse

You woke to the sound of soothing waves crashing against the shore. You blinked into the soft light filtered through the canopy, getting your bearings. The dream deposited you somewhere new again.

A warm arm slid over your waist and pulled you back against a thick, strong body. You looked down to see bronzed skin and a big hand over your belly. “You’ve come back,” a deep, melodic voice said.

You turned your head a little too fast, getting dizzy from the feeling. You had been groggy all day, sleep beckoning you more and more no matter how much sleep you got. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him.

Your dream man. There was no other way to describe him. One lonely night, he appeared like magic in your dream. He called himself Tyrone and said your body cried out to him, to wherever it was that he resided.

His wide smile was infectious as he looked at you. He pulled you back against him to feel how aroused and ready he was for you, like always.

His hand flexed over your belly. He began to kiss the sensitive spot behind your ear, causing you to giggle. He knew it made you ticklish so it was the first thing he did to greet you.

“Are you with my child?” He asked. He kissed down your neck, sending shivers down your body. His hand snaked under your short white dress, touching your belly skin to skin.

“No,” you said. You looked away from him and away from the disappointment on his face. The negative test was stupid. You couldn’t actually get pregnant in a dream right? He looked and felt so real.

You stared out over the ocean. You watched the cerulean waves rock backwards and forwards. Birds called out overhead. He had created a veritable paradise and all you had was bad news.

Tyrone grabbed your thigh and squeezed, making you hiss and look at him. There was no disappointment there. Just a devilish gleam in his eye as he smiled wide. “That means we get to keep trying,” he said.

A piercing pang of desire shot through you causing you to jerk and clench your thighs together. Tyrone tsked at you, rubbing your thighs while he pried them apart. Your legs dropped open. Tyrone stared at the core of you, exposed and needy. Already, your pussy wept for him. You could feel it, dripping out of you.

“You are going to look so beautiful carrying my seed,” he said. His voice went down an octave, deep as the ocean in front of you. Your eyes snapped to his and for a moment…you giggled. He nearly looked demonic as he stared at your pussy.

You didn’t know what his powers were. But it seemed that he controlled what you wore when you came here. He was obsessed with the feeling of silky white clothes on you. Dresses, pants, skirts, whatever he thought of. He thought you looked gorgeous in all of it. Never any panties though. He hated the things.

“Worst invention known to mankind,” he had muttered the one time he caught you in them.

You licked your lips. The cool breeze tussled the flowing curtains around the canopy. Though you couldn’t see much outside of it, you knew that the sand was crisp and white. The sun was perfect; not too warm and not too cold. The birds sang overhead, the waves crashed, and there was a seagull playing overhead.

Tyrone moved, the bed dipping beneath his weight as he settled on his side. He rested his head on his left hand, held up on his elbow. He trailed his right hand through your pussy lips, immediately searching and seeking your aching bud.

At the first pass of his fingers, you gasped. Your mouth dropped open with a strangled moan. He’d just touched you last night, brought you to dizzying heights of pleasure. Still, your body craved him like it craved food and water.

“Let me hear you,” he said. He dipped his middle fingers into you while rubbing his thumb around your clit in smooth, torturous circles.

“Ah, ohh,” you moaned. You tried to play it cool. You tried to bite back the feeling of him inside of you. But every inch of him was made for pleasure. His fingers were thick, pumping into you like you know his dick will later.

“Oohh, fuck,” you said. You widened your legs, giving him more access. He watched your face and all the different expressions you made. He watched for when he did something you loved, something that made you twist your face in delicious pleasure.

Your hands twisted in the white sheets, your head thrown back against the bed. You closed your eyes and lost yourself to the building sensation of your orgasm. How it rose steadily as if on command by his fingers.

Finally, it swelled until it rolled over you, soft and lazy like Tyrone’s pumping fingers. You moaned and shook and still his fingers moved. It was like your orgasms turned him on. Filled him with renewed energy to keep going and going. Built for pleasure. Born for sex.

When you finished, you looked down at him. He seemed to glow softly, around the edges. He licked his lips and pulled his hand back. His hand was soaked with your juices. He brought each digit to his mouth and licked off everything you gave him.

“You are so damn beautiful, Tyrone. I wish I could see where you lived,” you told him.

He smirked as he licked his fingers. “A beautiful woman like you has no place where I am from. It is an ugly and jealous place. Here, I know beauty. Here, I know you,” he said in between licks.

You watched his throat work. He wore a sheer white tank top and lounging pants. His chest was broad, sculpted, enough to make Michaelangelo cry.

Done with cleaning his fingers, Tyrone gave you a dark look. He smiled as he rolled over onto his stomach, once more spreading your legs for him. He groaned at the sight. You watched him lick his lips, seeming to salivate more than what was normal.

He bit your thigh and you cried out, your eyes snapping to him. He grinned and then licked the sting away.

“You’re in a playful mood tonight,” you said. You wiggled your hips, knowing what came next.

“You have no idea the restraint I’m showing,” he said, his voice barely louder than the waves. The sound of the waves stuttered and you looked past the flowing curtains. The waves still moved back and forth but seemed out of sync of the sound.

Tyrone took a deep breath and the sound slowed down, matching with the waves once more. “Tyrone? Did you hear that?” You asked. The waves did seem a little too perfect. Dots of light reflected the sun. But where was the sun?

Tyrone dipped his head and licked a long stripe between your entrance and your pussy lips. “Oh, fuck!” You cried out, jerking in surprise.

Tyrone groaned and took a deep, audible breath. Your pussy fluttered, knowing that he was close and inspecting your every move. Tyrone blew a breath across your wet core and your dress dissolved. You giggled as the material fell away from you, disappearing into thin air. His tricks never ceased to amaze you.

“That’s not very fair. I can’t do the same to you,” you said. You leaned up on your elbows so that you could look at him. He grinned innocently and then his clothes disappeared as well. You bit your lip watching it fall away and his body revealed itself. The swell of his ass, the dip of his hip, his powerful thighs on the bed.

He kissed the sides of your knees, massaged your inner thighs, and scooted up the bed until his face was level with your pussy. “Play with your nipples for me. Squeeze them how I like,” he commanded.

He waited for your hands to snake across your body. For your deft fingers to circle your nipples, giving him a show while you pleasured yourself. It wasn’t until he growled that you finally tugged on your nipples, pinching them between your index finger and thumb.

“Harder,” he said.

You pinched yourself harder and felt it all the way down to your pussy. Tyrone turned his attention back to you and pressed his face against your pussy and started to play with you. “Shit, that feels so good,” you moaned. You threw your head back against the pillows but you couldn’t sit still.

His tongue weaved its own magic, curling against your clit and flicking back and forth. His thumbs opened you up further so that he could get the surrounding areas. His thumbs traced circles on you while his tongue went lower, dipping into your soppy wet entrance.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck. Right there, don’t stop,” you groaned, your body shaking. Tyrone held your shaking thighs, keeping them open. You twisted and turned trying to escape him, but he snapped with an inhuman growl and you froze. You whined as you came from that sound alone.

Your eyes crossed as you came, gushing out over his mouth. He still tongue fucked you through it, feeling your walls contract through your orgasm. You opened your eyes and looked through the top of the canopy. The sky overhead looked painted on. As if you could reach your hand up and feel a ceiling.

But didn’t you hear birds flying overhead? You strained your ears and indeed heard birds calling to each other. You searched the sky but didn’t exactly see any birds. Where were you?

Tyrone replaced the view of the sky. You smiled at him, all disturbing thoughts leaving you at the sight of him. “It’s not time to go yet,” he said. He leaned down to kiss you. His lips pressed against yours and you sighed, relishing the feeling of him over you as a solid weight. You tasted yourself on his tongue and you chased his mouth, wanting to lick and suck him more.

You pushed at his shoulders however. He grinned, letting himself be pushed. You pushed until he lay on the bed. His dark hair was a neat contrast against the white pillows. He looked like a little devil laying there, ready to corrupt your mortal soul.

You straddled him, your knees on either side of his hips. He held you about the waist as he scooted up further into a half-sitting position. “Is my little Angel getting bold?” He asked.

You only grinned. You were certainly no angel as you lifted up on your knees. His engorged length slipped between your legs and you cried out as you tried to line him up. His leaking tip moved to your entrance and you both sighed as you finally seated yourself on his length.

“Pussy grip me so tight, Angel,” he groaned.

You clenched around him as you leaned back, putting your hands on his thighs and putting yourself at an angle. He groaned as your titties poked out in this position, within reach and yet out of it.

“Ride me,” he commanded.

You leaned back, feeling him slowly slip out of you. You watched him. His eyes zeroed in on where you were joined watching your arousal coat his dick. His eyes widened and his mouth hung slightly open.

You paused, already straining, sweat gathering down your back to hold this spot. You wanted to bounce on his dick, wanted to milk him dry, but you also wanted to see the cool and calm dream man you’ve come to know lose his head a bit.

When you didn’t move for a few seconds, he brought his gaze to you. “Ride me,” he said.

You shook your head. His eyes narrowed. “Ride me,” he said again.

Again, you shook your head and kept moving back, moving him out of you. That otherworldly growl crept back into his throat. He wrapped two massive hands around your waist, intent on pulling you back down on his dick.

You leaned forward and wrapped your hand around his throat. Tyrone shuddered and you felt every inch of him shake, his dick twitching inside of you. “You didn’t say please,” you cooed.

His fingers flexed against your hips, digging into that endless squishy bit. He rolled his neck and you squeezed harder. He groaned and rolled his hips and you gasped. He felt bigger somehow, like he gained more girth and split you open.

“Ride me,” he commanded. “Let me feel that pussy suck this dick down,” he said. But it wasn’t a request. You squeezed your fingers more, feeling his pulse jump in his throat.

You leaned up on your hips and pushed him back in. You descended on him gradually, memorizing every delicious inch as he stretched you out. You felt full and stuffed. Your pussy squelched around his dick, your arousal leaking out of you.

You moved his head back and forth and he went willingly, his eyes glazing over. A thrill of power went through you. He could snap you in half. He could break your back in ten different ways without lifting a finger. The thought of him beneath you only turned you on.

Your energy seemed to call to him. With each naughty thought that rose to your mind, his dick pulsed inside of you. You leaned forward and he groaned at the slide and smack of your pussy. You kissed his jaw on either side of his face, running your tongue across his lips.

“Beg for it,” you said.

He groaned. “I ain’t begging for shit,” he said.

You turned his head and licked his ear, played with his earlobe between your teeth. He rolled his hips and he slipped more of himself inside of you. This was a vicious game between you two. You desperately wanted to move. To suck him all down. Keep him inside of you.

You weren’t asking for the moon. Just a little recognition that you affected him. That he wasn’t going to disappear the moment he put a baby inside of you.

You contracted around his dick, squeezing and unsqueezing him. He shut his eyes, a cute little crinkle in the corners.

“Okay, okay, wait,” he whispered.

“Come on,” you purred in his ear. “Just a little? Don’t you want to fill me up? Don’t you want to pump your seed into me?” You continued to squeeze around him, purring filthy things into his ear.

“Don’t you want to bury this dick in me? Ruin me for any other?”

“No one’s ever going to touch what’s mine,” he said. He grabbed your hips roughly, his fingers almost feeling like claws against you. You groaned at the edge of pain. You grabbed one of his hands and brought it to your breast, needing to feel him everywhere.

His hand latched on immediately, pulling and tugging at your nipple. You groaned at the feeling. “Can you picture it? Your seed leaking out of me?”

“Ungh, yes,” he said. He rolled his hips and you shared a groan.

“I know you like to watch as it slides down my leg,” you said. You licked the shell of his ear.

“Ride me, ride me,” he said.

“Good boys ask nicely,” you said.

He groaned and ended it on a chuckle. “Okay, okay, please? Please ride me. I need you. I need you to move,” he said.

You grinned and kissed him. You kept your hand on his throat as you began to speed up, rocking on his dick.

“Fuck, just like that. Just like that. Take that shit,” he moaned. He pushed into your hand around his neck, increasing the pressure, while he kissed up your neck as you bounced on him. Pressure built up in your belly, pushing with every stroke.

“Oh, I’m gonna–”

You exploded around his dick with a loud, lewd moan. The orgasm caught you off guard. You hadn’t realized you were that close. You clung to Tyrone, shaking and moaning. A whimpering mess as you flooded his dick with your arousal.

He fucked you through it, taking over the strokes. “Cum so pretty for me. So loud for me,” he cooed as he kissed you. You cried into his mouth and he swallowed each one. He seemed to thrive on it. Gain energy from it.

He grunted and released himself inside of you. His warm, sticky cum pulsed and shot hot jets up to the very center of you. “Oh fuck,” you cried out.

Tyrone groaned, rolling his head back and forth as if he were drunk. He laughed as he spent himself, falling back against the cushions. You bit your lip and cried as you slipped out.

“Where you think you going?” He asked.

He hooked his legs around yours, grabbed your arm, and flipped you onto your stomach. “Ty-?”

Tyrone entered you again on a savage thrust. Air whooshed out of you. His hips ground into your ass, pushing you against the bed, and falling over you so you couldn’t get up. He smacked your ass and it jiggled from the force of it. The sting made you hiss and moan.

“Thought I wasn’t gonna get payback?”

His sturdy body pressed you into the mattress, cutting off ready air supply. You struggled for air as he pounded into you relentlessly, somehow still hard. He pulled on your hair, pulling you back towards him so that you were bent in half.

“Look at me while I fuck you,” his gravelly voice commanded.

You could only look out of the corner of your eye. The bestial sight of him made a scream clog your throat. His red eyes glowed unnaturally against the white world around you. The sound of the waves cut out. The birds retreated entirely.

You gushed around his dick, seeing the true form of him and you weren’t afraid. You were surprised but not afraid. You knew something had been off; the worlds he created too perfect. Too clean. The way he spoke of heaven and your angelic nature. He bordered on obsessed with it.

“Fuck,” he said as he pounded into you. He leaned away as if he meant to stop.

You leaned on your right side enough to slip your left hand against his on your waist. “Dont. Stop,” you muttered in between strokes.

He jerked forward as if he were trying to go deeper. As if he could plant his seed like a stake into the ground. “Fuck. Perfect. You’re perfect. You’re perfect,” he chanted over and over like a prayer.

He kept up his punishing strokes, fucking the air out of you. Your pussy greedily sucked him in. The snap of his hips was loud in the sudden emptiness of the dream world. The sky darkened, rolling black clouds moving overhead.

“Fuck, not yet. Not yet. Stay, stay, stay,” he said. Each word was another stroke, another snap of his hips. Your ass clapped against his thighs. Each clap brought thunder and lightning danced overhead.

“Oh fuck me. You’re so deep, so good,” you cried, breathless and whiny. He yanked on your hair harder and you moaned. You bit the pillow beneath you as the sun winked out. He groaned and grunted, slamming into you with reckless abandon.

He was unleashed, no longer needing to keep the world together for you. He had succeeded in dragging you down into his ugliness and yet your slick heat welcomed him in. Your cries and moans encouraged him to keep going, to wring every last bit of pleasure out of you.

He moved his left hand around your thigh, spreading your pussy lips and rubbing your clit. “C’mon, c’mon,” he muttered.

You bowed at an unwieldy angle and came with a ferocious purr, snapping your thighs together and trapping him as best as you could. He groaned at the tighter channel, your orgasm only fueling his own.

He pumped you with load after load of hot cum, stuffing you full and making sure it was in there deep. The world turned darker and darker, wakefulness pulling you away from him already.

Still, he snapped his hips. Still, he thrust his cum into you and hoped that it would take. That you would come back to him with news of his seed growing inside of you. That you would carry a piece of him. That every twitch and jerk in your belly would remind you of him and his dick lodged inside of you where he belonged.

The blaring, irritating sound of your alarm hauled you to wakefulness with a disappointed cry. Your sheets were soaked through with sweat. Areas stuck to your overheated, naked skin. You hadn’t remembered crawling into bed right after your shower, but you must have.

Or perhaps Tyrone was getting stronger the more you fucked. Perhaps his powers crossed to the real world the more you welcomed him into your body. You flopped onto the wet sheets and groaned. You moved your legs, your pussy a little sore from all the rough fucking.

You closed your legs as if you could still feel him there, trying to shove more of his cum inside you. You caressed your belly in the dim darkness of your bedroom and imagined what he’d have in store for you tonight.

Need some more in your life? There's more!

Part 1 | The Secret Tyrone Files

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headfullofpresley · 8 months

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𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐧' 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 4,5K

Summary: You and Elvis are always playing pranks on each other. This Halloween, you come up with a prank that goes horribly wrong as Elvis doesn't think it's so funny and gets genuinely upset. But like always, your partner eventually comes around and gets his revenge.

Warnings: strong language, playing with a ouija board, fake demonic possession, mentions of the devil, elvis being upset, elvis calling reader a bitch, pranks that you probs shouldn't use on other people, tiny bit of angst, reader and larry gellar disliking each other. guess that's it?

A/N: hello, hi! i guess this isn't really spooky but felt like it fit the season! there's pranks in this that i don't advise you to use on anyone unless that's you're kind of humor. wrote this in an hour or so because it randomly popped into my mind and well... i thought it was funny 👀. just want to make clear that this is in no way me making fun of elvis' spirituality in any way, nor is reader, if some people might think thatttt or if it comes across as that. just wanted to write something else rather than a vamp!elvis fic like my brain already was thinking about for halloween, AAAAH. also, this doesn't include all members of the mm or any of the other guys because i didn't know where to place them. okay, bye. p.s: be a smart cookie and don't use a ouija board.

Elvis didn’t care for Halloween.

Never did when he was young and never did as he was growing into an adult. Sure, when he was a little boy and his friends would drag him along to go trick or treating he could appreciate the free candy, but that was about it. After complaining about the people in scary costumes on the street when he was around 7, his mother stopped him from going out on All Hallow’s Eve and he appreciated her doing so.

As he got older, he’d usually be working on the last day of October and whenever he wasn’t, he would rent out the Memphian and watch horror movies with the guys, other friends and some of his fans. He enjoyed playing pranks and scaring the shit out of the people around him, but that’s where celebrating Halloween ended for Elvis.

His Christianity or beliefs didn’t have anything to do with it. He simply preferred holidays that involved lots of homecooked foods, spreading joy, giving gifts and being surrounded by his loved ones. Like Thanksgiving and especially, Christmas.

You on the other hand are obsessed with Halloween. You always put a lot of effort in your costumes and Elvis allowed you to put carved pumpkins by the front door with a lit candle inside of it, but he wouldn’t celebrate with you in any other way than watching movies. You were too old to go trick or treating, so you were happy when Lisa Marie was over at Graceland on some Halloween evenings to do so with her, but this year she unfortunately was in California with her mother.

This Halloween you put little effort into your costume, opting for a black cat suit with a tail, some drawn on whiskers that complimented the dark eye make-up you were sporting, and a pair of black cat ears. Elvis wasn’t complaining because you looked smoking hot in it, but he wasn’t aware that you chose this simple outfit because you had bigger plans for tonight that involved… well, let’s say, a lot of action.

After watching a few movies at the Memphian with Elvis, some fans and the guys, you all made it back to Graceland. It was only around 1 in the morning which was early for the bunch you were living with, so nobody was tired yet. Which was good, because you and Charlie Hodge had come up with the perfect prank to play on Elvis and the two of you managed to convince everyone to get involved in it.

The only one who wasn’t up for it was Larry Gellar and you were slightly worried that he’d out your little plan and ruin the whole thing. You were praying that he’d just go home already, but much to your chagrin, he was sitting on the couch and conversing with Elvis, not looking as if he’d leave any time soon. You were just going to have to risk it.

“Let’s play a game!” You chirped happily as you held up a plastic bag, pulling off your cat tail and throwing it by the side of the couch. “I found this today at the store. The sales girl told me it’s the perfect game to play during Halloween, because then you know it really works,”

Elvis watches with curiosity as you pull a large box out of the bag, turning it around and showing him the front. As he realises you were holding up a ouija board, he was immediately intrigued. Ever the curious person, especially when it came to things about spirituality, Elvis slides to the edge of the couch and takes the box out of your hands, opening the lid to take the board out and inspect it.

“Hell no, I ain’t playin’ that,” Lamar immediately says as he glances at the board and you try to suppress a grin. His reaction was the one you told him to give. If Lamar would play, Elvis was going to take the chance to tease the hell out of him for a week straight because Lamar scared easily when it came to these things.

“Ah c’mon, Fike. It’ll be fun,” Elvis grins as he places the board in the middle of the coffee table. You give Charlie a quick thumbs up and he grins, agreeing to play the game. Sonny and Red agree as well, but Larry decides to sit this one out. You were happy about that and as you go around the living room to dim the lights and light some candles, you feel instantly annoyed when you hear Larry’s voice.

“Elvis, I don’t think this is a good idea. Playing with an object like that can be dangerous, you know?” Larry chimes in, looking at Elvis with worried eyes. Never really having liked Larry, you roll your eyes. Elvis doesn’t see it but Red does and he sticks his finger in his mouth, feigning a gag. The two of you silently laugh and you sit down on the floor by the table, Elvis sliding onto the floor next to you.

“It’s not dangerous, baby. It’s just a game,” you quickly tell Elvis as Larry once more expresses his concern. Elvis looks at Larry once more before he turns to you and grins, kissing the corner of your mouth as he grabs the planchet and puts it on the board. Larry gives you an annoyed glare and you ignore it, happy that he decides to retreat back into the kitchen. Joe sits back on the couch along with Billy to watch the game unfold, simply because there wasn’t enough space for more fingers on the planchet.

“You sneaky sonofabitch. You’re the one movin’ that thing!” Elvis exclaims in slight annoyance as he glares at Sonny who sat on the opposite side of the table. Sonny widens his eyes, trying his best to hold back a laugh as he shakes his head.

“I swear to God, I ain’t doin’ it!”

You and Charlie exchange a knowing look. It was the two of you taking turns sneakily moving the planchet with the tips of your fingers, but Elvis didn’t notice a thing. He was too intrigued and focused on the words “it”, or in this case you, were spelling out. You hadn’t propeely opened communication or whatsoever, so the board wasn’t working at all. You believed that a ouija board could truly work if you wanted it to and you could communicate with… well, someone or something, but that wasn’t the intention for tonight.

You just wanted to play the prank of the century on your man like he has done to you so many times before.

All of you ask random questions at first that require simple answers. Then you decide to take matters further into your own hands and add up the dramatics a notch. You needed it to be spooky. Elvis doesn’t scare easily, the morgue trips he often makes with you were proof of that, and you want him to be terrified tonight.

“Someone dies tonight.”

All of you exchange uncomfortable glances, though only that of Elvis was real. He shifts a little on the floor and takes his finger off the planchet, accusing Charlie instead of Sonny now.

“Hodge, stop pullin’ my leg with this bullshit!” He huffs and Charlie widens his eyes, scared that you and him got caught, and just as he opens his mouth to defend his case, you speak up.

“Elvis! You’re not allowed to take your hands off of it without saying goodbye!” You grab his hand and bring it back to the board, putting his finger back on the planchet. He looks at you and scoffs, squinting his eyes.

“Oooh, I see. It’s you, ain’t it?”

You mentally curse yourself. Was your acting that bad? Shaking your head as you give him your most serious face, you tell him that it’s truly not you who is moving the planchet and before he can question you further, Charlie sneakily spells out something else.

“The girl.”

“That’s it. I ain’t playin’ no more. Say goodbye, goddamnit,” Elvis barks in annoyance. He wasn’t going to admit it out loud but he truly believed the planchet was moving by itself and spelling out these things. He was having fun when they started and asked random and silly questions, but now it was getting a little too serious for him.

A little too scary.

This thing was threatening your life and he felt a sense of paranoia fill his chest. What if you’d really die because of this stupid game?

No. No, you weren’t going to die. It’s just a game. It’s not real- he refuses to believe it’s real.

You quickly say goodbye along with everyone else, moving the planchet over the word before taking your hands off. You bite your lip to hold back a laugh and wrap your arms around Elvis’ neck as he leans back against the couch, crossing his arms after he shoved the board across the table. You giggle softly and hug him, planting kisses on his cheek.

“Stop that worryin’. It’s just a game, El, nothing is going to happen.”

Although he doesn’t believe you and is still worried, he slides his arms around your waist and pulls you onto his lap, hugging you back.

You spent the rest of the late evening playing some music and Elvis doing a spontaneous jam session, which got his mind off of that damned ouija board. After all, it was just a game. Nothing was going to happen and tomorrow afternoon, he’d wake up with you in his arms.

Alive and well.

But as you two got upstairs to his bedroom and got ready for bed, he wasn’t going to take no risks. There was a baseball bat leaning against the wall by the door and a hand gun laying atop of his Bible on the bedside table. You look at it as you got into bed where Elvis already was, sitting against the headboard with the TV on.

“What are you gonna do? Shoot a ghost?” You joke with a soft snort and he looks at you, simply nodding his head.

“Hell. I will if I have to,”

“My protector,” You swoon playfully as you run your fingers through his hair, laughing. He chuckles softly and sighs, kissing your lips before he allows you to settle in the bed. You pretend to watch some TV with him but couldn’t contain your excitement, curious to know what his reaction was going to be when the best part of the prank would play out.

Since you fell asleep pretty quick most of the time, Elvis didn’t think anything of it when he heard you lightly snoring as you had turned your back to him. He had his arm leaning across your hip, needing to touch you in one way or another, always. Unbeknown to him, you were wide awake and looking at the alarm clock on your side of the bed. You had told Charlie to give you twenty minutes before you’d set things into motion and as that amount of time had passed, you started off your little prank slow.

Ease Elvis into it, so to speak.

Pretending you were having a nightmare, you twitch lightly while mumbling some soft incoherent sentences, moaning uncomfortably. Elvis who was still wide awake moves his hand from your hip to your hair, caressing it soothingly as he sits up a little to look over at you. Figuring you’re still sleeping, he leans back against the headboard of the bed but only a split second later, you suddenly shoot up to sit in the bed. Startled, his heart skips a beat and he quickly sits up again too, moving some of your hair over your shoulder. He’s familiar with sleepwalking, but he has never seen you do it before. He knows not to wake someone when they’re in a state like this nor call out their name, but his worries grow by tenfold as your body slumps against him.

And then starts twitching and goddamn near convulsing as you throw your head back. He widens his eyes in shock as your eyes roll in the back of your head, your arms hanging limp by your side. Holding your frame, he tries to keep you still as he cups your face.

“Y/N! Y/N!” He slaps your cheek softly, unsure of what to do in a situation like this. He curses loudly as he reaches over to the phone on the bedside table, putting it to his ear as he calls downstairs and yells to whoever is on the other end of the line to come upstairs.

Like clockwork, Charlie comes running in not much later and feignes a gasp at the sight of your state. Elvis looks over at him, desperate for help.

“Goddamnit, Charlie, do somethin’!” Elvis yells as your body seems to be twisting and turning into uncomfortable positions, arching your back as you let out deep groans and grunts. You didn’t even know your voice could get that low, but you were impressed by yourself.

An eerie feeling washes over Elvis and he slowly lets go of you as you push yourself out of arms, standing on top of the bed. And then you just start… laughing.

Like an absolute maniac.

The sound sent shivers down Elvis’ spine and he quickly got off the bed, standing next to Charlie as they both look at you, unsure of what was happening. Well, at least one of them. Charlie was completely sucked up into his role though and he took a step back, fear in his eyes.

He was a damn good actor.

Something clicked inside of Elvis’ brain as you look at him with a menacing look in your eyes, smirking like the Devil himself just walked into the room.

That goddamned board.

“Get my Bible,” Elvis orders Charlie, never taking his eyes off of you. Charlie does as he’s told and grasps the Bible from the bedside table, handing it to Elvis. The singer takes off the necklace he was wearing with a cross pendant hanging on the silver chain and hands it to Charlie, looking at the smaller male.

“Put this on her forehead,”

“Elvis...” Charlie widens his eyes, holding onto the necklace and pretending to be terrified of going near you. “Can’t we.. can’t we just call an ambulance?!”

Charlie was going to do whatever Elvis told him to do anyways because it makes the situation seem more natural but even if he wouldn’t be acting, the glare that Elvis gives him is enough to have him sprint into action. He runs over to the bed and pulls you down, keeping you down on the mattress as he presses the cross against your forehead. As you look at Charlie, you have to try your damnest not to ruin things and laugh, but luckily you manage to stay in your role.

Writhing on the bed and trying to get out of Charlie’s grip with what truly is little effort but looks like a lot, you let out a bloodcurdling scream. Elvis comes closer to the bed while he is quickly reciting any kind of prayer he thinks might work, reading psalm after psalm. He’s taken back for a second when you did what Charlie and you rehearsed- kicking the brunette off of you and making him land on the floor. You swear you could hear Charlie chuckling, but Elvis is only focused on you.

Now you are the one that is taken back as he gets on top of you and grabs your wrists, holding them above your head as he’s still reciting prayers. He’s yelling at the non existent demon inside of you to get the hell out and Charlie has to muffle a laugh in the palm of his hand, curious about what you were going to do because neither of you expected this.

You felt a laugh bubbling in the back of your throat, so before it could come out, you stop writhing on the bed and drop your head to the side, pretending that the prayers worked and it has all come to an end. Elvis sat on top of you for a few more minutes until he releases your hands and gets up, closing his Bible. He watches you, ready to once more go into action as he sees you casually sit up and get up from the bed. He frowns a little as you walk over to Charlie and hook your arm through his, clearing your throat.

“The end.” You and Charlie gracefully bow, bursting out into uncontrollable laughter.

Until you notice one person in the room isn’t laughing.

Feeling the mood shifting in the room and as if a thunderstorm just passed over Graceland, you stop laughing as you see Elvis glaring at the both of you. You walk over to him as he throws his Bible on the bed and cup his face, but he’s quick to swat your hands away and get back into his bed.

“Elvis, c’mon. Don’t be mad, baby. We were just having a little fun,” you laugh softly, sitting on the edge of his side of the bed. He turns his head to look at you, his blue eyes icy cold. You weren’t unfamiliar with that look but usually it was something more serious that brought it on and you never liked it.

But what you weren’t realising is that this was serious to Elvis. He thought he was going to lose you to some freaky demonic entity.

“Get out.” He simply states in a low voice, turning his head back to the TV that was still on. You look at Charlie and he gives you a little nod, taking you out of the room with him.

You succeeded in pranking the prank master, but you’re afraid you pushed him too far and that simply wasn’t worth it.

You figured Elvis would be over it by the day after Halloween and things would go back to normal. But then again, you know Elvis like the back of your hand and although you were not surprised by him ignoring you for a week straight, you were still hurt.

When he learned that all of the guys were involved in your little prank, he let them have a piece of his mind and that was that. But you were walking on eggshells. He even made you sleep in Lisa Marie’s bedroom for that entire week.

By Sunday night, you were fed up with it. Maybe you had taken things too far, but it was just idiotic that he wouldn’t even let you sleep in the same bed as him.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” He snaps as he watches you burst into the bedroom and get into the bed next to him, fluffing your pillow.

“What does it look like?” Maybe you don’t have the right to be annoyed with him, but you are. He knows how much you hate to be ignored and you’ve been worrying yourself all week with all sorts of doom scenarios, like him ending the relationship.

He grabs your arm to pull you out of bed but you sit up and pull your arm out of his grasp, the words flying rapidly off your tongue. “Good God, Elvis. I’ve told you I’m sorry about a thousand times, but you don’t wanna hear it! You haven’t spoken a word to me in a week. At least yell at me, be angry with me, do something!”

His nostrils flare as his jaw clenches and he sits up more straight, turning his body into your direction.

“You want me to yell? Be angry? Fine!” He barks harshly, his loud rich voice booming off the walls. “I thought I was gon’ fuckin’ lose you that damn night! I thought you really were gon’ die, Y/N. That there was some sonofabitch inside of ya who was takin’ ya away from me. If you think that’s so hilarious, well hell, then you really are an evil bitch,”

You weren’t hurt by him calling you a bitch. You and Elvis fought enough times in the past that involved ugly name calling but you always made up minutes later. It never lasted for days. But learning that he was truly afraid of losing you in that moment causes your heart to clench uncomfortably in your chest. You feel a pang of guilt in your gut and your shoulders slump, tears burning in your eyes as you could see a tear rolling down Elvis’ cheek. He quickly wipes it away and looks at the TV set, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Elvis, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” You exclaim breathlessly as you crawl closer to him and hide your face in his neck, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His body tenses up but then he quickly relaxes under your touch and wraps his arms around your frame, placing one hand on the back of your head to press you firmer against him. “i didn’t mean to scare you like that, I really didn’t. I just thought it would be a fun prank for Halloween. I never thought it’d turn out like this.”

It was never your intention to truly hurt Elvis or emotionally scare him. Deep down inside, Elvis knows this and he feels a little guilty about giving you the cold shoulder for a week, but he doesn’t feel the need to apologize to you for that. Instead, he accepts your apology with a long tender kiss and then cups your cheeks as he looks into your eyes.

“You can prank me, baby, jus’… no more pranks like that, okay?” He whispers as he brushes some hair out of your face, thumbing a tear away from the corner of your eye. You nod, promising him that you’ll never do something like this again and keep it at small pranks only.

That same night, you and Elvis stand outside at the back of Graceland, watching the ouija board melt into mush in the firepit.

He wasn’t going to take any chances and forbids you to play with a board like that for the rest of your life. You have no problem promising him that you will never touch another ouija board again and content with your answer, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and looks at the flames.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, Little,” he whispers as he presses his nose into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo before he kisses your head. You wrap your arm around his waist and hold him close as you nod, resting your head against his chest. “I can’t lose ya. Ever.”

“I promise, Elvis,” you say as you raise your head and look up at him, kissing his chin. “You’ll never lose me. Even the Devil can’t take me away from you.”

He grins at your words and pecks your lips, but then he pulls his head back and looks past you, frowning. Curious, you look over your shoulder and a hot feeling of fear immediately spreads throughout your chest, widening your eyes as you see two man wearing scary wolf masks stalking toward you and Elvis.

It was only you and your boyfriend at the house tonight, but still when one of the men grabs you and a few others that came from the other side of the premises grab Elvis, you scream at the top of your lungs for help. It doesn’t do much and your vision is taken from you as you’re being blindfolded, a hand being placed firmly over your mouth.

You were thrown in the back of a car and after driving for what felt like hours, you were being lifted out of the car. You couldn’t speak as one of the men had shoved what you guessed was a tie in your mouth because you wouldn’t stop cussing at them in the back of the car. You were surprised they hadn’t knocked you unconscious yet.

You were terrified of what was to come, but more so you were worried sick about Elvis. The last thing you had seen were a couple of masked maniacs overpowering him and dragging him away. Having no idea where he was or if he was even still alive, you were determined to break free and get out of where ever you were.

You needed to get to Elvis. The thought of never seeing him again made your head spin, feeling like you were about to either faint or be ill.

Despite your inner turmoil, you didn’t stop fighting your kidnappers. Not even as you were being placed on a chair, your hands tied behind your back and your ankles tied together. As the fabric was pulled out of your mouth, you were about to scream again until your blindfold was taken off. As your eyes adjust to your surroundings, you widen your eyes when you see Elvis and the Memphis Mafia standing in front of you, all wearing shit eating grins.

You realise you’re sitting in the pool room.

The guys all burst out into rumbling laughter, Elvis included, and he bends down to be at your eye level, his hands placed on his knees as he grins.

“Honey, I’m gon’ say this once and for all,” he bites his lip as he laughs, that mischievous little boy gleam in his eyes. “Don’t prank the master.”

You sarcastically laugh along with him as he unties you, glaring at Lamar who was having an uncontrollable fit of giggles when he tells you you should’ve seen yourself when him and Sonny were driving you around the block to make you think you were being taken somewhere else.

You stand up from the chair as Elvis has let you free and grab a poolstick from the wall. Red snickers.

“We should probably start runnin’ now, huh?”

“Yup.” Elvis smirks, popping the ‘P’ as he shoves the guys out of the way and starts making a run for it. You were immediately hot on all of their heels, your main suspect being Elvis, as you yell profanities at them while trying not to laugh.

Both you and Elvis know that this was only the start of what would become a very, very long prank war and you’re determined to take his title away from him, although you doubted you’d succeed at that.

As long as it didn’t involve ouija boards and any kind of demonic possession, Elvis was ready for whatever you had planned for him. But just to be absolutely sure, he made a mental reminder to have Lisa Marie stay at Graceland for Halloween next year so he could benefit of the free candy and admire your matching costumes with his daughter rather than thinking he was going to have to give you up to the Devil.

Because one way or another, he would shoot the sonofabitch.

taglist: @notstefaniepresley @powerofelvis @breadsquash @generoustreemystic @ab4eva @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @notstefaniepresley @ellie-24 @dollksj @re3kin @wivette @eliseinmemphis @18lkpeters @rosepresley @ccab @whatstruthgottodowithit @dkayfixates @lettersfromvenus @elvisalltheway101 @that-hotdog @robinismywife @jaqueline19997 @raginginkedslut @joshuntildawn13 @claire-elvisgirl

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis prompt #elvis presley prompt #elvis headcanons #elvis presley headcanons #elvis smut #elvis presley smut #elvis x y/n #elvis presley x y/n #elvis halloween #elvis fans #tamwrites

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age-of-greta · 8 months

Text

Freaks Come Out At Night

Author’s note: so… hi!! Welcome back to week two of my spooky Halloween series. DANNY LANE WHERE YOU AT????? Truly, I don’t know what compelled me to write this, but here we are. Pls ignore the typos and ENJOY! <3 vibes

Pairing: Danny x reader

Warnings: a lot! Cursing, sexual content, slight violence? Minors DNI

Word count: 3k

“Yeah I’ll be over in about thirty minutes. We just finished recording. I’ll stop by and grab wine on my way.”

“Okay.” You answered, kicking your feet. “I’ll see you soon.”

“See ya.” He responded with a sense of joy in his tone.

You hung up the phone and smiled to yourself. You had approximately 20 minutes before he arrived. Your apartment was close to a lot. Plenty of shops, restaurants, just a few blocks away from their studio. Lucky you.

It started around 3 months ago maybe? You went to a party of a friend of a friend, smoked a little weed, and made eye contact by the bonfire. You still remember his smirk and the way your cheeks dusted pink when he looked at you. He was nervous to talk to you, but that only furthered your intrigue. The first night you met you had slept together. But it wasn’t a typical one night stand. He asked to take you to breakfast after that, then a movie, then lunch, before you knew if you were back in his bed the following night. It had remained that way for weeks. An unspoken agreement that you were faithful to each other, but both of you were too scared to try and slap a label on anything. You didn’t dare to potentially ruin something that felt so good. And that’s what Danny was to you- good.

You padded around in your living room in your impossibly short silk black pajama shorts with a matching tank top. You chose to forgo a bra, you knew Danny would notice as soon as he walked in. You needed to refill your wine glass that was nearing empty, but you didn’t want to drink too much before he got here. You decided to throw together a small charcuterie board for the two of you to snack on. You opened your refrigerator and grabbed some dry salami, an array of cheeses, and olives. You spread them out on your board and adorned them with nuts and dark chocolate blueberries. You smiled at your impromptu little board. Once you sat it on your coffee table you clicked on the tv, turning on Fear Fest. You loved scary movies. Danny was indifferent towards them, but had been watching them all month long with you. You were grateful for that.

The doorbell went off and you jolted out of your trance as the credits began to roll on the original Nightmare On Elm Street. You waltzed over to the door and opened it, smiling at the tall boy in front of you.

“Hi pretty girl.” Danny said, leaning in and giving your cheek a peck.

“Good evening.” You replied with a bright smile.

He stepped in and placed the bottle of wine on the counter.

“Starting without me?” He asked, looking at your baren wine glass.

“Had to have something to hold me over. You took foreverrrrrrrr.” You playfully spoke.

“Apologies my lady.” He said, grabbing your glass and replenishing it with the new wine he had bought. He got a glass out for himself and poured his glass before coming to the living room to join you on the couch.

“You’re too cute.” He said with a smile as he saw the charcuterie board you had made.

You reached your hand out and plucked the glass from him. “It’s the least I could do for the wine darling. Now, what are we watching tonight? I’m feeling something scary.”

He let out a laugh and pulled you to cuddle into him. “Scary? You? Who would have guessed.”

You flicked your eyes at him and smiled. “Have you ever seen Hereditary?”

“Okay that was like… super fucked up.” Danny said, his eyes still glued to the tv after the final harrowing scene.

You scoffed at him. “Would you believe me if I told you the second time is worse? If you stare long enough into the background you see all kinds of things you missed upon first viewing. It’s so fucking cool.”

He looked over at you and gave you the strangest look. “You’re a little bit demented. You know that?”

“In a good way?” You ask, already knowing his answer.

He laughs and shakes his head. “In the best way.”

You two had all but drained your bottle of wine and picked over most of the foods on the table. Now you laid over on him as he stroked your hair. Another one of the Freddy Kreuger movies playing in the background. You grabbed your phone and started to mindlessly scroll through your social media. You flipped over to TikTok and turned your volume down. You scrolled through cooking recipes, cats doing funny things, and skincare tips. A certain video of a cat screaming at a plant had Danny chuckling behind you.

You turned your head and glanced back at him. “You like cat videos?”

“I’m a human, of course I like cat videos.” Danny says, matter of factly.

“Boy do I have some good things for you.” You say, snickering to yourself.

You click on your likes videos and begin to scroll. Danny laughs and coos at the cute cat videos. You continue to scroll through the posts you have liked. Your breath hitches as a certain video starts to play and you scrolled past it immediately, hoping he didn’t notice.

“What is that?” Danny asked with a sideways laugh.

“Nothing, just horror movie stuff.” You say, trying to play it off.

“Mhmmm let me see.” He says with a smirk.

Shit. He knows.

You shake your head and he clicks on the video anyway. You could have died when the Ghostface thirst trap played. Your cheeks filled with redness, not wanting him to judge you for a stupid fantasy.

He laughs at it. “You’re into this?”

You blow out a breath. “I don’t know. I mean kinda? It’s stupid, but the whole masked killer being a kinky freak is viral right now. I mean you should see some of the insane lingerie photo shoots people take with Michael Myers.”

Danny nods his head. “Sure, but are you into it?”

You weren’t sure how to answer. You wouldn’t say it was a prevalent kink you had, but the thought of it turned you on a bit. The horror genre had always been your favorite and the first Scream movie made you feel some type of way about the “bad boy” trope. You assumed this was a logical progression in a way.

“This is embarrassing.” You say, hiding your face into a pillow.

He chuckles. “Nothing to be embarrassed about doll, but I’ll leave it. Come here.”

Danny pulls you into his lap and you two continue watching your movie marathon. After this one wraps up, you started to clean everything up before starting another.

“Want some popcorn?” You asked Danny, as he helped clean up the charcuterie board.

“Sure.” He replied. “But we are out of wine.”

“Damn. It’s okay, we can switch to water I suppose.”

Danny stood still and thought for a minute. “You know I can run down really quickly and grab some more. Before they close?”

You give him a pointed look. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll survive.”

He shakes his head. “No really it’s not a big deal. I’ll be right back.”

With that he grabs his coat, kisses the side of your head, and bolts out of the door.

Okay?

You wash all of your dishes, put away the food, and pop a big bowl of popcorn. Then you sit down on your couch and scroll through your phone. The thought of getting on TikTok at this moment still embarrassed you, so you opted to check your email instead. You were so engulfed in your vast amount of emails that you had neglected you barely noticed when Danny came back in.

“Wine secured.” He said with a smile walking towards you with the bottle.

“Amazing. You’re the best.”

He popped the bottle and poured two more glasses. You knew after this glass you would probably be on the cusp of tipsy. Wine always opened you up and made you more flirty. It was why you always wanted some when Danny came over, not that you needed to be inebriated to be with him, but it was damn sure fun.

Danny grabbed you again as you both nursed your glasses of wine. His fingers lightly grazed over your shirt causing a sensation to build in your chest. Suddenly, the movie had lost your interest. You chugged down the rest of your glass of wine and placed it down on the side table.

“Woah take it easy tiger.” Danny said with an impossibly gravely voice.

You flicked your eyes to him and gave him a smirk. “Gonna run to the bathroom real quick.”

He gave you a nod as you slinked down the hall into your bathroom. You peed, washed your hands, and glanced at yourself in the mirror. Showtime. You hiked your silk shorts up a little higher and pulled your tank top down. Then you spritzed yourself with a salted caramel body spray, brushed out your hair, and popped a mint in your mouth. You were ready, you had waited long enough.

You padded back out to the living room and gave Danny a smile. He returned your grin.

“Bored of the movie?” He asked.

“No…” You said, moving languidly towards him. “This might be one of the best Nightmare sequels, but I am ready to-hmmm switch gears a bit? Are you down?”

You stand right in front of him and peer down at him. You can see him swallow hard before giving you a smirk.

“I suppose.” He replies, grabbing your legs and pulling you onto him.

Just like that your lips finally collided. It was like an explosion of anticipation finally being exorcised. Danny’s large hands ran up and down your legs, back, and ass. You slowly began to grind on him, feeling him harden beneath you. He squeezed your hips, hard, which caused you to let out a bated breath. You bit his bottom lip and pulled, causing his eyes to flutter open. When he finally looked at you, he was ready to take you to bed. He picked you up and carried you into your bedroom as you giggled. When he laid you on the bed your shirt and shorts were almost immediately removed. You manage to get his shirt off before he tied your hands to your headboard. It’s always the quiet ones who are the freakiest. Once you were stuck in place he crawled on top of you, peppering kisses down your torso. You thought you would get the normal treatment, but he stopped just above your panties.

“I’ll be right back. Remember your safe word?” Danny asks, giving you a smirk.

You furrow your brows at him and nod.

Then you watch him leave your room in nothing but his black jeans.

Where in the hell is he going? Safe word?

You take a few breaths, obviously worked up from the past few minutes. He knew how to get you hot and bothered rather quickly. You felt frustrated as you waited on him, you couldn’t even touch yourself. Finally you heard his footsteps come towards you again as you prepared yourself for what would come. You felt his presence when he entered the room, but when you looked up your eyes almost popped out of your head.

There he was, standing there still in his jeans. Shirtless, his chest beautifully chiseled. But instead of his perfect face there was a mask. A Ghostface mask. He stood and looked at you, not saying a word. His head cocked ever so slightly looking down at you. You gulped and looked back up at him. Then you saw it, a small pocket knife in his hand, the one he always carried.

Fuck. Is this where he went when he got wine? To buy this mask?

“Danny…?” You spoke out, but you knew it was him.

He continued to stay quiet, but nodded his head. You squeezed your legs together just for the slightest friction. Finally, after what felt like 10 minutes he moved slowly towards you. He straddled you and took his finger, drawing a line from your breasts to your navel. You let out a shaky breath as you saw the blade in his hand. He took it and lightly grazed it over your stomach. The cold sensation made you nearly jump.

He has never done this before. This is why he reminded you of your safe word.

Part of you felt uneasy or unsure. But the other part of you felt absolutely ravenous.

He stroked the blade in the same line his finger had just drawn, not putting hardly any pressure on it. He wasn’t going to cut you, not really. He leaned in closer to you and brought the blade to your jaw, lightly dragging it around. Then, he leaned in close to your ear, the fabric from the mask tickled your collarbone. You felt him inhale your scent before asking; “What’s your favorite scary movie?”

You drew in a breathy laugh. “I think you know the answer to that one.”

He let out a dark laugh. “Oh I do.” He starts as he lightly trickles the blade down your chest again. “Had to give my girl her little fantasy.”

You take in a gulp.

My girl?

His hands fumble around a bit before they meet your clothed center. Slowly dragging circles around, making you whine and squirm. You threw your head back as a finger slipped in the side of your black panties.

“Fuck-“ You let out in a small moan.

You could feel how wet you were, soaked even. As he started to slowly pump a finger into you the room quickly filled with obscene sounds. He was so good with his hands. With each pump you were beginning to rapidly come undone. When he added a second finger and his thumb found your clit you were all but done for.

“Danny- fuck. Please- oh god.”

He grunted at your undoing. “Almost there baby. You’re so fucking hot.”

“Danny, I want to come with you. I want you to fuck me. Take that mask off and fuck me, hard. Please.” You manage to whine out.

You could tell he was slightly taken aback, but he had no objections to your request. Slowly, he took off the mask. His hair was a tousled mess of black curls and his eyes were full of lust. He crawled back on top of you and cupped your breast as his lips found yours again. You reached your leg up and wrapped it around him, needing him closer to you. With his other hand he reached up and yanked on the knot, setting you free. You wasted no time letting your hands melt into his body, tugging at his hair and sliding your nails up his back. He let sighs out into your mouth and you swallowed them whole, greedy for more. The time for foreplay was over, you needed him. You took your hands and undid his pants, starting to slide them off his hips. He got your hints and rolled off of you, stripping himself bare. It was your turn to be in control. You rolled your body on him and pressed yourself onto him.

“Oh fuck.” He said through gritted teeth, as you both made contact.

He drank in your body on top of his as if you were the last glass of water in a desert. You grabbed his length and slowly sunk down on it, both of your breathing through the pure ecstasy coursing through your veins. Slowly you started, rolling and rocking your hips, but as he began to get deeper and deeper you wanted more. His thumb found your clit again and you started bouncing up and down. You could tell it was a show for him, the way he watched you in bewilderment. You could also tell he was dangerously close, trying his hardest to hold on for you. He wouldn’t have to wait long as you felt that fire start to spread in your core. Then it happened, total bliss. You swore you saw stars and you couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. Just strings of expletives, moans, and his name leaving your mouth as if it were dipped in honey. He was right behind you, breathing heavily and full of praise. After, you were entirely too fucked out to even move- so you stayed there as one synching breaths. When you finally rolled off he grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Did I go too far?” He asks, nervously awaiting your response.

You turn your head to him and give him a look. “Too far? I think that might have been one of the most enthralling experiences of my life. I mean fuck Danny.”

He huffs a laugh. “Mine too.”

A few moments of quiet fills the room as he still has your hand in his.

“Would you like to do this again?” He asks.

You scoff. “Now?”

He shakes his head. “No, no. As much as I would love to it’s going to be a challenge for me to move out of this spot.”

You giggle at that. “Then yes I suppose we could do it again.”

He turns his head to you and smirks. “Y’know almost like we’ll make a sequel. Sequel rules are different.”

You can’t help the full smile that envelops your whole face. “Someone has been paying attention to their Scream movies.”

“Have to. They’re my girl’s favorite.”

“Your girl?” You ask with a smile.

“Is that okay?”

“Yes.” You answer eagerly.

He leans in and kisses your forehead. Then you both clean yourselves up before returning back to bed. You found yourself cuddled up in his arms as he turned on the television in your room. You knew whatever was on would serve as background sound and light to your slumber. Your eyes flickered as Danny clicked through the channels. You opened them once more when you heard a laugh escape his throat. On your screen was the original Scream movie. You snickered and cuddled further into his side as he stroked your back. He sat the remote down and left your movie on.

How perfect you thought to yourself as your eyes fell heavy again.

And he was, he really was.

#greta van fic #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #danny wagner #danny gvf #danny x reader #daniel wagner #daniel gvf #gvf smut #Danny smut #Halloween GVF series

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bucky-barnes-diaries · 2 years

Text

Day 19 — Scary Movie

Pairing || Roommate!Bucky x Female!Reader

Word Count || Around 600

Contents & Warnings || Fluff, Hint of Angst — jump scare.

Authors Note || I’ve written something similar to this HERE. But I’ve expanded and improved on it a little in this version.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Flufftober Masterlist

Tonight was yours and Bucky’s weekly movie night, and since it was October, you were, of course, going to watch something spooky together.

“Alright, doll, are you ready for some spooks?” Bucky exclaimed as he walked into the living room with a bowl of popcorn in hand. He placed it on the coffee table, along with all the other snacks and drinks you were going to feast on this evening.

“Oh, you know I am.” You rubbed your hand together, excited for it all—snacks, movie, and some quality time with your roommate.

He plopped down beside you with all the soft and fluffy blankets that you had laid out, making himself comfortable. You smiled as you brushed shoulders, taking in the matching Halloween-themed tracksuits you both wore.

“Ok, time to get scared,” Bucky grinned while pressing play on the movie.

You loved scary movies just as much as Bucky did. It was a strong passion you had together. But even though you loved them, that didn’t mean you never got scared shitless. In fact, you did almost every time.

The more into the scary parts you got, the smaller you reduced yourself, sinking into the comfort of the safe sofa as you held up the edge of the blanket, ready to block your view if anything scary came on.

Bucky flickered his eyes to you ever so often, grinning at how adorable you were. The arm that he kept on the back of the sofa felt restless. He wanted to drape it across your shoulder and pull you closer to him so he could comfort and protect you, but he felt maybe that would be a little too forward, considering you were only friends.

A particular frightening scene came on, making you jolt from your seat and gasp in fear. You curled up into his side, hiding your face there—seeking safety and security in him.

“Hey.” Bucky felt that this was the appropriate time to comfort you, so he draped his arm over your shoulder and pulled you closer so you could lay your head on his warm chest. “It’s ok, doll, I’ve got you.”

He smiled so sweetly down at you while you grinned up at him. His beautiful face lighting up in that gorgeous smile had you melt inside, and your heart beat in a way that it had only recently started doing when you looked upon your roommate.

You found his hand and laced your fingers. A bold move, but you hoped he would understand that it was because of your recent scare and not something else that you weren’t ready to reveal to him yet. His hand was so much bigger, cupping yours in a gentle grasp—fitting like two puzzle pieces.

“Thank you, Bucket,” you muttered as you nuzzled further into him, inhaling his scent that bonded itself into your brain, making you feel safer. You directed your attention back to the movie that wasn’t so scary anymore with Bucky protecting you.

Bucky’s heart filled with butterflies, and a hint of a blush tinted his cheeks due to your closeness and the pet name you had for him, making him feel lightheaded and soft inside.

He wanted to pour out his feelings for you. These romantic feelings he’s held for so long that were bursting to be set free and to be known by you. But he decided, maybe for another scary movie night…

Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

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matchacowbee · 8 months

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Don't be Scared!

oh yeah oh yeah i got another ddlc fic for u guys. i honestly just started this one today, i literally have 2 more that im writing LOLLL but idk i got inspired. i hope u guys like this one ><

This is in honor of spooky month ‼️

this is a tickle fic!! if thats not ur thing bye bye :3

all sfw!

Lee Natsuki 🌷Ler Sayori 🪴

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The four girls were having a sleepover today!! Everyone was excited! well…mostly everyone. They were watching a scary movie tonight, and Natsuki was a little afraid. Horror was definitely not the genre she preferred to watch, and especially at night!? No way!!

“I made popcorn!” Monika says, as she plopped down on the couch next to Yuri.

“Ahh yayy!” Sayori’s face lit up, and immediately reached over to have some.

“Sayori we haven’t even started the movie yet!” Monika pulled away the bowl from Sayori’s grasp.

“Aww cmon! Just a little?”

Monika and Sayori continued their banter, as Natsuki sat quietly next to Sayori and the arm of the couch. She wasn’t really prepared for the movie they were about to watch. Suddenly, the lights shut off, and she let out a little gasp. Luckily it went unnoticed by the others.

Fortunately, it was just Yuri turning off the lights. “Are you guys ready?” She said. The others nodded and Yuri had then started the film.

Natsuki had a pit in her stomach. She snuggled under the blanket and shuffled closer to Sayori. Sayori gently smiled at Natsuki and wrapped an arm around her.

Throughout the night, jumpscares, blood, gore, and more scary things flashed on the screen. Yuri was very used to this kind of stuff, and she didn’t react much. Sayori would get frightened, but then laugh about the jumpscares. Monika kept talking through the movie and wasn’t scared at all. And Natsuki hid in Sayori’s shoulder for the majority of the time. The noises alone scared her, and so many thoughts of the scenes in the movie replayed over and over in her mind.

Soon enough the movie was over. And it was late in the night. The girls had gotten into their sleeping bags and were ready to go to sleep.

“*yawn* Well that was a good movie!” Monika said. “I’m exhausted.”

“It would’ve been a better movie if you didn’t talk the whole time Monika.” Yuri said with an annoyed tone.

“I’m sorry but did you see how dumb the protagonist was acting!? Why would she go in there alone?” Monika and Yuri continued their conversation, while Sayori looked around for a minute. “Hey guys, where’s Natsuki?” She asked.

“Hm, she might be in the bathroom still.” Yuri said.

“I’m going to go check on her, it’s been a while.” Sayori then got up and headed towards the bathroom.

The light under the bathroom door was on, so it was clear that Natsuki was still in there. Sayori stood at the front of the door. She knocked lightly. “Hey Natsuki, you okay in there?”

Some silence went by, until Sayori heard a quiet, “…yeah” She heard sniffles from inside the room. “H-hold on Natsuki, I’m coming in.”

Sayori gently opened the door.

Natsuki was sat on the floor in her pajamas, head buried into her knees. Sayori immediately went and sat next to the small girl.

“Oh no, are you okay Natsuki? What’s wrong?”

The other girl sniffed and wiped any remaining tears on her face. “I-I’m fine.. *sniff* I just got a little scared.”

Sayori pulled her into a tight hug. “Awh was it because of the movie? You must not be good with scary things like that..” Natsuki buried her head into Sayori’s shoulder and silently nodded her head.

Sayori felt bad for Natsuki. She was one of the toughest people she knew, but even she was scared of things too. Natsuki held on tight to Sayori, and hesitated to pull away from her. It was a little out of her character, she wasn’t one to give out physical affection like this. Sayori felt the shorter girl shake as the embrace continued. Poor thing, she needed something to distract her from thinking about the movie.

Suddenly Sayori had an idea.

“You know.. I get scared sometimes too. But I have to remind myself that it’s not real. To kinda get me out of that mindset, I pinch myself and I realize it’s just a silly movie. Then I can just laugh about it after.”

Sayori hesitated for a minute. “Do you want me to try something to make you feel better?”

Natsuki looked up at Sayori. “U-um I guess so, but what are you going to do?” Sayori smiled and sat upright next to Natsuki.

She then put her hands on Natsuki’s waist, and pinched her sides gently. “Well I’m gonna try my method on you of course!” Sayori said cheerfully, as she began to squish and “pinch” Natsukis sides and tummy.

The other girl let out a little squeak, as she didn’t expect this from Sayori. “Wah! h-hehey! Whahat are yohou doing!?” Natsuki said, while letting out little giggles.

Sayori continued to squish her, adding occasional little scribbles on the lower part of her stomach. “I gotta get all of those spooky thoughts out of your head!”

Natsuki let out girly laughter, as she squirmed from side to side. “Ehehe t-thahahat tihihickles!” Natsuki lost her balance, and landed on the soft bathroom mat, while Sayori gained more access to her tickle spots. She pulled up Natsukis tank top, and scribbled her fingers around her bellybutton. Natsuki let out a squeal and swatted at Sayori’s hands. “EeEhehe! Staha- stohop!!” Her eyes were shut and her cheeks turned pink.

“Heyy, don’t swat my hands, I’m trying to help youu!” Sayori moved her hands up to Natsukis upper ribs and began to trace them.

Natsukis laughter jumped an octave, and she tried to escape from the tickles. “Sahahayorii!! doho-dohon’t dohooo thahat!” Sayori stopped for a sec. “Don’t do what, Natsuki?”

“T-tickle me!” She replied.

“Well jeez Natsuki, if you wanted some tickles to cheer you up, you should’ve just said so!” Sayori then continued her tickle onslaught on the girl.

“Hm, where should I tickle you then? Here? Or here! Oooh you’re definitely ticklish here!” Sayori delivered pokes between every word, and then eventually settled on Natsuki’s lower belly again.

“N-nOhohOoo!! Thihihis ihisint eheheee- w-what I mehe-meant!”

Natsuki was getting really flustered at Sayori’s teasing, but also really tired. She eventually stopped trying to fight against Sayori’s hands, but continued giggling at the tickly sensations. She laid there with her hands glued to her chest to protect her ribs, and continued to squirm.

Sayori looked down at the other girl. Feeling much more relieved that she wasn’t crying anymore, Sayori decided that it was probably time to stop tickling her. Again, Natsuki was one of the toughest people she knew, but also one of the most ticklish people too. And GOD it was cute when she let people see her sensitive side.

Removing her hands from her stomach, Sayori then pulled the other girl up off the floor. Natsuki was visibly embarrassed and found it hard to make eye contact with Sayori.

“Well Natsuki, how do you feel now? Are you still scared?” Sayori asked.

“U-um no not really…” Natsuki said

“That means my method worked!�� Sayori exclaimed. Natsuki was a little bewildered. “Huh??”

“I gave you a pinch and you ended up laughing about it!” Sayori chimed happily.

“Wha- no! You tickled me! …But I do feel better now though.” Natsuki looked back up at Sayori. Seeing her friend smile at her gently, that alone made her feel good too. “Thanks Sayori.. you’re a great friend.”

Sayori smiled at the shorter girl. “No problem, now let’s go to sleep. And let me know if you feel scared again, I can help.”

The two walked back to the living room and got into their sleeping bags. Yuri and Monika already had fallen asleep. Sayori laid next to Natsuki, waiting for her to fall asleep first. As soon as she did, Sayori had then went to bed as well.

the end <3

#ddlc tickles #ddlc tickle #ddlc tickle fic #tickle fic #lee!natsuki #ler!sayori

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myforeverlostthoughts · 7 months

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Title: I've Always Loved you Pairing: Park Jimin x f!reader Word Count: 3k+ Genre: Fluff, Holiday au Summary: You haven't seen Park Jimin in over three years and now your walking into his house to celebrate the spooky season of Halloween. Your feelings mixed as you try to avoid him, but find out he's everywhere. Will you admit your feelings or leave with rejection, find out in this Halloween special! Warning: drinking, kissing, making out, thoughts of feelings on someone else, heartbreak, I never know how to label these things...

Notes: Hello everyone! I hope you all had a very spooky Halloween and that you all stayed safe! I know I ended up staying home cause it started snowing, but with the season of Halloween I decided to write this little drabble and hope you enjoy it! Notes 2: Anyway, this is my first time writing something for BTS so sorry if the guys sound a bit out of character... I was trying something new so feed back is always welcome! Anyway, enjoy the rest of Halloween if your in the states, if not Happy November first! Byeee!!!

“What do you mean ‘you're not going’? You said you would go with me and you promised you would be there.” Your best friend Kaitlyn said as you and her were heading to Jimin’s house for a halloween party.

“I’m. Not. Going. How confusing is that?” you replied as you were laying in bed scrolling through your socials. You hadn’t seen Jimin in what felt like years, and going to this Halloween party meant bumping into him since the party was at his house.

“It's not, but you promised, so you're going. Now get dressed, or I’ll pick out the costume you're wearing, and you know which one I’d put you in.” Kaitlyn said as you gave her a look.

“I am not wearing that costume, and you know my reasoning. Why are you being such a bitch today?”

Kaitlyn shrugged, “Don’t go back on your promises and I won't be a bitch, simple as that.” She said with a huge grin on her face. You groaned knowing that this party could last all night, but being around the others did bring a slight smile to your face. You had gotten close to Hoseok and Seokjin that maybe going to the party wasn’t such a bad idea. You just had to avoid Jimin. How hard could that be?

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☽◯☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

“I already hate it here.” You said as you looked at your friend and then at the large house in front of you. The yard and house was packed to the brim. People littered the front yard like Jimin was throwing a yard sale or something and the music that was coming from the front door seemed loud and annoying. Why in sam’s hell did you agree to come to this thing?

Kaitlyn chuckled, "Come on, let's go get a couple of drinks and we can go find Hoseok or someone. You know a ‘familiar face’ so we don’t feel so weirded out. I know I don’t like big crowds, but it was the only party that was happening tonight and we all know that Jimin can throw parties that are out of this world. We’ll have fun. Just relax okay?” Kaitlyn said as the two of you slowly made your way up to the door. You decided to dress up as Diane from The Seven Deadly Sins. Thighs out, boots up to your knee, and a similar hammer attached to your back just in case you needed to beat someone’s ass if they got too touchy. Your friend, Kaitlyn, decided to dress up as Noelle from Black Clover. She said she didn’t want to show too much skin, but if she got drunk enough you knew that she would be naked in a heartbeat. Your eyes rolling in your head as when you entered the house, it was decked out in halloween theme decorations. Fog machines, spider webs, skulls, bats, and pumpkins littering the shelves and tables that you honestly thought the house looked nice. It just made you upset because it was all at Jimin’s house and you didn’t want to be here because you hadn’t seen him in what felt like years.

“You made it! I’m surprised you got her to come!” Hoseok said as he came up to you and gave you and Kaitlyn a hug.

“Took a lot to get her here, but she’s here and she’s not going anywhere since we took my car instead of hers.” Kaitlyn said as you huffed but hugged Hoseok back as you were happy to see him.

“Well, come in! Lets go get you ladies something to drink! I saw Jimin spike the punch with vodka but if you have something else you want to drink, you should have brought it yourself.” Hoseok laughed as you couldn’t move to the kitchen fast enough. You swore you could hear Jimin talking to someone nearby and your heart was racing.

“Y/N! You’re here! OMG! I’m so happy you're here!” Taehyung smiled as you could tell he had already started drinking.

“Hey, V, how are you doing?” You asked as the four of you made your way to the punch bowl and started pouring drinks. You didn’t really want to drink, but Kaitlyn said it would help you relax more so bottoms up and pray you’ll have a good night.

“I’m doing wonderful! Have you said hi to everyone? Did you lock lips with you know who?” Taehyung asked as he wiggled his eyebrows.

You scrunched up your nose and shook your head, “No, I didn’t ‘lock lips with you know who.’ I have yet to see him and hope to god I don’t see him. I’m sure he had long forgotten about me and to be honest I’m okay with that.” You said as you heard some shuffling around behind you and then a voice. That voice bringing a shiver down your spine as it always sounded a bit high pitched, but not in an annoying way, more like a bell or a choir singing to you. The voice was magical that you wished you could hear the voice more often. You just didn’t know if tonight was the night you were going to confess. You and him haven’t talked for over three years. Three years of him going off to college in Seoul and you staying in Busan working because you couldn’t afford college. He had said he would visit, but as time went, he became nonexistent, which in the end broke your heart.

“Don’t see who? Were you trying to avoid someone?” Jimin asked as you all turned to see him dressed up as a vampire. His silver hair tucked back, and his beautiful brown eyes were now red from a pair of contacts you assumed he bought on Amazon.

“No one, don’t worry about it.” You said as you grabbed your drink and decided to explore the house some more. You had to get away from Jimin as your heart started to pound deep within your chest. You were scared. You were breaking. He looked more beautiful than the day he left, and you were sure he wasn’t the pure innocent boy you knew all those years ago.

“Y/n! Wait up! Don’t leave me alone with these assholes!” Kaitlyn said as Taehyung pouted slightly. He was probably the softest out of the small group that was forming in the kitchen. He was cute and funny, always knew when something was wrong, but drunk Taehyung was someone you had to watch out for. He didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut, and honestly, how you were feeling, you didn’t need to have him blab about all the thoughts that were running in your head.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☽◯☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

“Wow, nice costume, didn’t think you had it in you, but fuck… you look great!” Jungkook smiled as you were now outside hanging with Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jungkook.

“Thanks! It took some getting used, too, but I think with the tights on under the costume, I kinda feel more confident. Not walking around in a bathing suit and feeling half naked, ya know?” You smiled as Yoongi elbowed Namjoon, who seemed to have his mouth open from being in shock at how beautiful you looked in Diane’s clothing.

“You're welcome, where’s Kaitlyn? Did she come with you?” Jungkook asked as he and her sorta had an on and off relationship.

“She’s somewhere. Last I saw, she was with Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung. Who’s to say where she is now.” you replied, sipping on the weird concoction Jimin had made in the punch bowl.

“Ah, think she’ll wanna talk?” Jungkook asked as you shrugged your shoulders.

“I don’t know, she was the one that dragged me to this party. Honestly, I wanted to stay home and just watch horror flicks, but here I am…” you said as Namjoon smiled.

“Well, I’m glad you're here. Honestly, I missed seeing you around.” Namjoon spoke as your cheeks reddened from his compliment.

“I miss being around too. It's weird being back here, though. After Jimin left for college, I didn’t think any of us would hang out. I mean, Yoongi got that record deal. You went off to college as well, but stayed here, Jungkook started working along with I.” You began as you honestly didn’t want to remember the night Jimin told you he was leaving and that he wouldn’t be back until he finished. He might visit during the holidays, but when that first christmas came around, you didn’t see him, and you sure in hell didn’t see the others.

“Yeah, life just kinda got busy, but hey, three years isn’t that long, and honestly, having the party here meant there was no way Jimin was skipping this one. I mean, have you seen his place? Its fucking huge!” Namjoon said as a slight shiver went up your spine as the wind picked up out of the blue.

“Here, take this. You’ll feel warmer.” Jungkook said as he gave you his blazer.

“Thanks, Kookie, but I’m okay. I was thinking about heading inside and seeing if I could find Kaitlyn. Think you could come join me?” You asked as everyone sorta shared a look.

“Uh, sure, I can come with you. Is everything okay?” Jungkook asked as you nodded your head. You didn’t know why but just having one of the others nearby gave you comfort. You didn’t see Jimin as a threat, but just having one of the other guys with you while he was around gave you a safe space. You were eventually going to talk to Jimin, you just weren’t ready yet and you didn’t know when you would be ready. You just needed time.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☽◯☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

“There you are! I was beginning to think you walked home. Hi! How are you?” Kaitlyn asked as you couldn’t believe she was drunk if not close to being drunk.

“Fine, hey uh, where’s Jimin? I need to uh talk to him.” You said as it was about eleven o’clock when you found your friend.

“He went upstairs with some girl who said she wasn’t feeling well… as if… honestly if she wanted to get into Jimin’s pants she could of just said ‘hey I wanna fuck you’ or something, not pretend to be sick just so she could get him alone. I mean would you do something like that? Would you pretend to be sick just to get into Jimin’s pants?”

You shook your head, “No, because I don’t see him that way… and how many drinks have you had already? Where is Taehyung and Hoseok? Weren’t they with you last?” You asked as you looked around for your friends.

“Hobi is with his girlfriend and Tae went to go look for you. Said he really wanted you to go talk to Jimin before it was too late, whatever that means. I know you lik-” You covered Kaitlyn’s mouth before she could talk anymore. Your heart pounding in your chest again as you didn’t need the others and whoever else was around to know you liked him. Sure, you and Jimin were best friends growing up but who’s to say he didn’t find someone while he was off to college. He could have settled on a girl in his class and just couldn’t make it tonight. You just had to find some way around it so your heart could calm down.

“Well, here’s your boyfriend, try not to make a scene okay?” You said as Jungkook smiled at Kaitlyn and then watched as you disappeared upstairs where you were honestly afraid you were going to run into Jimin fucking some random girl, breaking your heart even more.

“So, do you really like her? I mean she’s been avoiding you since she showed up. What kind of person does that?” you heard someone talk as Jimin spoke next.

“Someone who is scared to admit their feelings, but I get it. I just hadn’t had the chance to talk to her since she got here because everyone keeps bothering us. I’m sure we’ll talk eventually but for now…” Jimin paused as the person he was talking with started to giggle, “You need to lay down and get some rest, I’ll come check on you in a little bit.”

The person spoke once more as you felt your heart sink knowing he had been wanting to talk to you since you got here, but everyone kept bothering you two so you were both never alone.

“Well, if you do talk to her, Jiminie, tell her she’s stupid. Tell her the truth and tell her what you feel, because truth be told I feel like you're wasting your time with her. You could be doing so much better and I do mean better…” you rolled your eyes as you knew the person he was talking about was talking about themselves.

“I know, but my heart is set on her and her alone. I just have to get her alone… I just don’t know how..” Jimin said as the floor creaked from underneath you and the door moved just enough for you to see who he was talking to.

“Oh, y/n, hi… um… it's not what it looks like I promise!” the girl in bed said as Jimin was sitting next to her leaned over as if he was going to give her a kiss.

“Right.. Um.. can we talk?” You asked looking Jimin right in the eyes as you felt your heart thud against your rib cage.

“Of course… just give me a second.” he said as you nodded. You walked further down the hall waiting for him. The voices in the room hushed as Jimin walked out and closed the door. His head turned in your direction as the next thing you knew your lips were against his and his arms were around his waist.

“How long?” You asked as the two of you made out in the hallway.

“How long for what?” Jimin asked as he was confused on why he was making out with you, his best friend.

“How long have you liked me?” You questioned one more time as this time you could hear the gears clicking and then a slight whine as you bit his lower lip.

“Since the day I left for college… I knew it when you said your goodbye that I knew my heart belonged to you and only you.” He said as his hands moved up your sides and slowly caged you against the wall you were now pinned against.

“Then why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you come and visit me during the holidays? Why did you stay away?”

“Because I was scared you didn’t feel the same. I know we had joked about dating and being each other's significant other, but to be clear, it's kinda hard to not fall for… I mean look at you…” He stopped kissing you as he eyed your Seven Deadly Sins costume, “You look stunning in this… you could probably wear anything and look beautiful in it.”

You blushed, “But what if my feelings for you were the same? I mean I just kissed you. Did that not mean anything to you?”

Jimin arched his brow but frowned, “It does, but you have also been drinking and I don’t want your feelings getting mixed because you were under the influence. I mean… if you do like me then I must be the luckiest boy in the world, but if you don’t then I’m in deep shit because I took advantage of you…”

“But I do like you… I’ve always liked you… Why can’t you accept that..” you mumbled as you saw what he meant by being under the influence.

“Because you're drunk, y/n… I know sober you wouldn’t be all handsy on me… you would have rather talked to me than make out with me. I just…” he pressed his forehead against yours as his lips slowly ghosted over yours softly. You could taste the vodka and orange juice but what you were also tasting was his emotions.

“So you're saying you would rather talk about this sober than with alcohol in our systems? That makes sense.” You said as you pushed yourself away from him, making him back up just a bit, “But will you remember this when you are sober?”

Jimin nodded, “Of course… I just hope you do too.”

You frowned looking at him. You swore you didn’t have that much to drink but for being here almost close to midnight and a few drinks in, you could tell that you weren’t completely sober, but you weren’t also drunk either.

“Well, now what? I mean I clearly can’t go home, and I’m sure Kaitlyn is tongue deep in Jungkook’s mouth… Did you want me to catch a cab and talk to you tomorrow?” you asked as your heart sank knowing you could have just had a one night stand and not see Jimin after this all happening.

“No, You can uh… stay here for the night. I just have to kick Veronica out of bed so you have some place to sleep. If not, there's always the guest room.”

You nodded your head, “Will you come hang out with me until I fall asleep? Just so I’m not alone and someone takes you know… advantage of me?”

Jimin looked at you with questionable eyes, “No, but I’ll stay near so I can watch the door, how does that sound?”

You pouted, “Fine, but you better keep a good eye on the door. I don’t want some creep coming in, you hear me?”

Jimin chuckled, “I hear you, I hear you. Let’s get you to bed.” he said as he took you to the guest room and smiled, “I hope you do remember this… I hope you and I can start a new chapter in our lives as a real couple, and I hope you know I do love and care for you..”

“I love and care for you too, Jimin, I-” You were cut off by Jimin’s lips as he smiled. He walked you into the guest bedroom and laid you down as he tucked you in like a child and kissed your forehead telling you good night. The last thing after that was his smile and how you said I love you one more time. You were madly in love with him. Sober or not. You were going to remember this, you just hope he did too.

#bts #bts army #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x reader #bts park jimin #bts park jimin x reader #bts park jimin x f!reader #bts park jimin x you #bts park jimin x y/n #park jimin #park jimin x you #park jimin x reader #park jimin x f!reader #park jimin x y/n

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little-bitty-froggy · 8 months

Note

Hi froggy I wanted to ask if you could write about Frank and Eddie taking care of a little reader after they have a nightmare?

I was hoping the reader could use a bottle and pacifier if that’s ok. You can also add headcannons if you want.Thank you!

Cg: Frank Frankly, Eddie Dear.

Little: reader

Age: 1

TW: During the nightmare there's mentions of being tired up, knives, blood, etc.

It was a wonderful Frieday night, around 6:30 ish on October. Y/n was going over to Eddie's house for a sleepover, They were going to meet up with Frank halfway but he was running late. Y/n promised themselves that they weren't going to regress tonight and have a “normal” evening.

Y/n walked up to Eddie's house and saw small bats hung from the roof. Y/n thought it was quite cute, they enjoyed the spooky session as much as their little selves did.

*Knock knock*

Eddie opens the door. “why hello Y/n! Please come in!”

Eddie was in black pajamas that had bat prints on his pajama pants and bat slippers.

hi Eddie! Y/n says very excitedly.

Hello squirt. Eddie smiles hugging me. “Ok so I have the movie, games, fort aaaaand snacks ready, all we need is Frank. He should be here any moment now… say weren't you and frank meeting up?!

“Oh yeah, he said he was running late.” y/n places there bag by the couch.

“Oh, well he better be here soon or he's going to miss the time of his life!” Eddie has a huge smile on him face as he gets some snacks and drinks.

*Knock knock*

“*Gasp* EEEE that must be him!!!”

Eddie swings the door open to see Frank in a matching pajamas. They both swing into each other's arms. *Eddie laughs*” please come in, Y/n is already here and I'm about to start up a movie!”

“Ooh that sounds fun, what movie?” “Y/n picked it out, I think it was Chucky~? I'm not sure. Oh but please come in, it's quite cold!”

Y/n looks over to see Frank and Eddie walk into the living room.

“Hi, Frank!!” y/n smiles. *gasp*” You guys have matching pajamas?!” y/n wines. “Meany”

Frank and Eddie smile giggling. “Is someone getting cranky already?!” Frank asks in a playful yet modest tone. Y/n protests. “What! Nonononono!!! You guys are lucky that you have something to match and I don't… well anyway we have the movie up!”

Eddie rolls his eyes and chuckles,” Yeah okay.”

Eddie dims the lights and they cuddle up next to each other in the couch while y/n chooses to sit on the opposite side. When they started the movie, everything was fine but when y/n saw the fall they wanted to turn the movie off seeing as Eddie and Frank were happy and enjoying the movie, they didn't want to ruin it for them.

Y/n slowly got out a blanket and rapt it around themselves like a cocoon. “I'll be right back... I'm just going into the kitchen for a sec…”

Y/n leaves and once they reach the kitchen they got an eerie feeling that someone was watching them. They felt small but cept on pushing it aside. Y/n then grabbed a drink and headed back to the couch.

“Sorry about that” “It's ok” Frank says. It's now more then half way threw the movie and y/n is now fighting uncontrollably but no one seems to notice. Y/n spaces out to try and spread up time on there end.

“Y/n?” a can't voice can be heard “Y/n~?”

“Y/N?!!!”

“HUH!, oh it's just you frank”

“Is everything ok? You where spaced out.” Frank says in the most concerning voice he can make with out it seeming monitored. “Oh I'm fine, just got bored of the movie is all.” y/n pulls out a weak smile and Frank buys it.

[Time skip cause most of this is just about the movie and I'm lazy so now they are getting ready for bed]

Eddie pulls out a blow-up mattress and sets it up. Y/n then places their pillow and blanket neatly on the bed while Frank and Eddie are snuggling up on Eddie's bed. They end up falling asleep moments later. “Good night guys!” Y/n wishes whole getting cosy. “Good night Y/n” Eddie and frank say in sink.

[nightmare :)]

Y/n wakes up in in a dark trapped down to a table. “H-Huh where? Where am I?” Y/n trees to move. “What the?! ”H-HEY MMMMMH, WHO EVER YOU ARE LET ME GO!!!”

“Nah uuuh” creepy chuckling can be heard from a dark side of the room. A small creepy doll comes out with a knife.

“H-HUH!!!” tears stream down Y/ns face. “No!! NONONONONONO!!!”

Small sobs can be can be heard from y/ns side of the room.

Eddie grones. “Y/n? Frank?” Eddie wakes up frank. “Frank!”

“Huh” Frank wakes up. “Y/n?!”

Y/n jults awake trying to grasp there breath. Y/n starts Sobbing.

“Hey hey! Shh shh shh, hunny its ok!” Eddie tries to calm them down. Y/ns sobs slow down a bit, they then jump into Eddies arms.

“Shh sh its ok hunny. “ eddie rubs Y/n’s back.

“Frank? Can you make Y/n a bottle while i calm them down?” “Right away!” Frank gets out of bed and speed walks to the kitchen to make a quick worm bottle of angel milk. Frank walks back to the bedroom to see Y/n rapped up in a blanket being cradled by Eddie. “Aww they looks so peaceful~!” Frank says in aww as he shuts the bedroom door slightly. He sits on the bed.Eddie hands over Y/n as frank starts Feeding them. When the bottle is done, Frank hands Y/n a Pacifier and they gently take it. Small suckles can be heard from them. Eddie gently puts Y/n down in the middle of the bed while Frank was on the right and Eddie would be on the left. They ended uo cuddling while they fell asleep.

Im REEEEAAAAALLY sorry that its almost a year since i posted and did any requests. Ive been in a rough patch.

#sfw agere #welcome home #welcome home agere #little reader #agere reader #frank frankly #eddie dear

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fuckyeah-dragrace · 8 months

Text

Movie Night

so tis the season to be spooky and I miss writing so I thought why not do a little something something. its been so long since I’ve written something so we’ll see if I still got it !!

⚠️ WARNING⚠️ SMUT IN THIS FIC ‼️

——

Loosey always loved Halloween, like loved loved halloween, especially the scary parts of it. Axe wielding murderers, haunted houses, spirits and ghouls, all of that made her grin like a kind on candy. Her house was always covered head to toe in decorations, being the talk of the town. She loved Halloween, her girlfriend however…

“Loo, do we really need to watch another movie tonight? We’ve watched like a million already.”

“It’s the Halloween countdown babe,” Loosey came to the couch with a bowl of popcorn, plopping down next to her girlfriend. “I promise this one will be good and not at all scary.”

“You said that with the last one.” Spice whined, pulling up her blanket to her chin.

“Yeah that was a little bit of a stretch.” The blonde winced, pecking her girlfriends cheek. “But this one isn’t ghosts and stuff like that, it’s just a crazy murderer.”

“I feel so much better.”

“Look, how about this. If we make it all the way through this movie, tomorrow we can go to the pumpkin patch and I’ll be your personal Instagram photographer.”

“And we get cider donuts?” The dark haired girl asked, looking at her half convinced.

Loosey chuckled. “And cider donuts. Maybe even some candy apples.”

That got Spice to perk up with a smile. “Deal. Seal it with a kiss?” She pursed her lips.

The blonde leaned down and kissed her with a chuckle. “Deal. Now let’s get started.” She flicked the TV on and wrapped an arm around her as the movie started.

The movie went on for nearly an hour, both girls watching, well Loosey watching and Spice making comments here and there to keep from being too scared.

“So he was bullied by all of those people?”

“Mhm.”

“And now he’s killing them and the whole town.”

“Yup.”

“That seems a little excessive but go off.”

Loosey laughed. “Horror tends to be filled with revenge stories.” The film was almost finished and Spice squirmed, burying her head in Looseys shoulder.

“Babe..”

“We’ve got like 15 minutes left, baby. You got it.”

“I have to last the whole movie?”

“That’s the deal.”

She felt Spice nod to herself and shift closer, body pressing up against Looseys. The blonde swallowed and glanced over to her girlfriend but focused back on the movie.

Spice sighed, nuzzling her head more onto her shoulder and placing a kiss to the exposed skin of her neck. Loosey cleared her throat, sitting up a little straighter. That didn’t deter the younger woman, kissing her skin more frequently. Her hand came up and wrapped around her girlfriends waist, rubbing at her hips.

“Spice.”

“Hm?” She didn’t break her focus on Looseys neck. “You said I have to just make it to the end. You didn’t say I had to watch it.”

“I did say that…”

“I’m just keeping myself busy. You keep watching, baby.” She found the blondes pulse and smirked. She leaned in and kissed gently, then kissing a little harder and sighing against her skin.

Loosey inhaled sharply, her fingertips digging into the edge of the popcorn bowl. She could feel the grin against her neck, Spice pressing herself closer to the point she was nearly on top of the blonde. Her eyes went wide and not because of the gruesome death on screen but from the teeth that bit down hard, just how she liked it.

A gasp came from her and Spice grinned, chuckling. “You scared, baby? I didn’t think that could happen.”

“Spice..” she swallowed back a moan, eyes fluttering closed as the hand on her hip snuck under her shirt, rubbing over her stomach and playing with the waistband of her shorts.

“Yes, Loo Loo?” She pulled away, a cheeky grin on her lips as she tried to look innocent.

The blonde locked eyes with her before surging forward, kissing her hard and pushing her back against the couch. The bowl of popcorn fell to the ground, spilling all over the floor but neither of them cared in the moment.

Their clothes were tossed over the couch carelessly, movie long forgotten as they moaned into each others lips, hands roaming their bare bodies. Legs tangled together and fingers laced tightly as their sounds of pleasure echoed through the living room.

A hand gripped tight at Looseys blonde curls, hips rutting up against her in a desperate state of need. Their kisses grew more and more heated as did their hushed whispers, muttering “I love you” and other sweet praises.

“Loosey!” Spice whimpered, nails digging into the flesh of her shoulders. Her eyes were squeezed shut ad she fell apart underneath her girlfriend.

Loosey wasn’t far behind her, burying her head into Spice’s neck to muffle her loud moan. They shared more kisses, relishing in holding each other in their post sex bliss. They pulled up a blanket and once again their limbs tangled together but in a different form of intimacy.

Spice looked over at the TV and grinned. Loosey raised her brow at the excitement. “What?”

“Movies over.”

“What?” She looked over and saw the ending credits rolling. “Aw we missed he good part.”

“But,” Spice turned her girlfriend to face her and grinned widely. “I made it till the end.”

Loosey stared and then nodded. “You did, baby.” She smiled.

The dark haired girl giggled and cuddled into her chest, head nestled onto her breasts. “Pumpkin patch and donuts.”

That got the blonde to laugh. She kissed her forehead and smiled. “You can have all the donuts you want, baby.”

“I like these movie nights.” Spice giggled, wrapping her arms around Loosey and closing her eyes with a smile. Loosey rolled her eyes and kissed her head, watching her fall asleep.

Loosey loved Halloween and gore and horror movies but she loved her girlfriend more. If that meant missing the ending of some horror movies, so be it. And movie night would definitely be more fun from now on.

#halloween fic!#loosey laduca #spice #spisey #whoops my hand slipped 🥵

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eternally-smutty · 9 months

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Temptation

summary: Natalie confronts Paul after he isolated himself from her for so long and he apologizes in the best way he can

word count: ~2.3k

content: 18+, minors do not interact, blasphemy, priest kink, bloodplay, body worship, some praise, bareback, clothed sex, creampie, overstimulation

author's note: I've missed writing for Paul so much. I needed to write for my favorite vampire as spooky month approaches ♡

banner credit: cafekitsune

Paul found himself locked away in Saint Patrick's almost every night nowadays, praying and begging that some divine being would listen to him.

Guide him.

Help him with these changes. With these urges that threatened to control him.

Most of the time, when he was hidden away all by himself, he could ignore these itches begging to be scratched and move on with his praying. But, sometimes, he felt that his luck and his God were both working against him when it came to Natalie.

She knew about him. It wasn't possible to hide something so terrific and so terrifying from her. What she didn't know was how bad it got for him. How painful. Natalie understood why he hid away in the shadows now and why his small living space was locked up most days. She understood him being hesitant to be around others after such a change. But, with this information, she didn't understand why he was pushing her of all people away. Why couldn't she stay with him more often? Paul knew she wasn't frightened and that she wouldn't turn away from him. So why?

Despite his efforts, Natalie always sought him out. She felt he needed a kind face there to remind him that he wasn't alone. Tonight was no different.

The old, heavy wooden doors slowly opened with a loud creak, "Paul…?" Her quiet voice echoed in the empty church.

He was where he always was: kneeling before the altar with his old rosary wrapped tightly around his clenched fists.

Paul abruptly stopped his hushed, nonsensical praying and turned to face her, "Come to find me again, I see."

"Well," She walked up to him, the sound of her footsteps filling the entire room, "I don't like that you force yourself to be isolated now. I miss seeing you, you know."

He gave her an apologetic smile, "I know, and I'm sorry. I just…This is important to me."

Natalie sat down on the stairs leading to the altar with a soft huff, "You do this every day – um, I mean night. You can't tear yourself away for just one moment to stay with me? To spend just a few minutes with me?"

"I…" He didn't know how to respond. He knew that she had been feeling desperately lonely ever since he started to distance himself from everyone, but especially her. Deep down, Paul knew she was right.

He looked up at her with tired eyes and gave her a sad look. Due to his efforts to isolate himself away from her due to his terrible hunger pains, he forgot how much he loved just being in Natalie’s presence. It was almost as if she had a warmth around her that was so inviting.

He cleared his throat and stood up, dusting his pants off, “You’re right, I’m sorry. Please, let me apologize to you.”

“Paul, it’s okay. I’m just-”

“No,” He grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet, “Let me show you that I’m sorry.”

He took her face in his hands and caressed her cheeks while looking longingly at her. His thumb traced her bottom lip before he carefully planted a kiss on it, a sense of relief washing over him as soon as they made contact. Oh, how he missed being so close to her. Of course, forcing himself to be away from her for so long didn’t allow his kisses to stay innocent for long. He started to kiss her more passionately, which Natalie happily accepted, and slowly pushed her backwards to lift her up on the altar. They clumsily walked up the steps and accidentally bumped into the table, making it rattle.

“Ow!” She yelped, breaking the kiss briefly. She winced a little at the pain and scrunched her nose.

“Oh no,” Paul said worriedly, “What happened? Are you hurt?”

Natalie lifted up her hand to show him her palm, “I hit the corner of the table a little too hard. These old tables have such sharp points.”

He took her hand in his to examine it. There was a small, bright red cut where she hit it. Beads of blood were forming near the opening and the skin around it became slightly swollen and pink. His heart panged as soon as he saw the blood, but not out of fear. It looked…No, that’s wrong. He shouldn’t feel this way about it, it's immoral.

“I’m okay!” She chirped, “It just took me by surprise, that’s all! We don’t have to stop or anything.”

“I’m so sorry,” He whispered, bringing her palm to his lips, “I didn’t mean to shove you so hard.”

Natalie shook her head, “You really didn’t! It doesn’t hurt that bad. I’ll probably just need a bandaid for a bit.”

Paul mumbled a quiet “Mm hmm,” and tenderly kissed the inside of her hand. His eyes fluttered shut as he pressed her palm against his face and absentmindedly licked the little flecks of blood on his lips. Once it hit his tongue, his eyes shot open in shock but he didn’t pull her hand away. Instead, he kissed it even more, alternating between kissing and licking the blood off her hand.

“Paul…?” Natalie asked, surprised at his sudden change in demeanor.

He ignored her confusion because his hunger was too great. She was too tempting for him to refuse. He couldn’t help it after depriving himself of such pleasures for so long. Paul knew that it was wrong to give in to such temptations in the house of the Lord but it felt too good to resist for any longer. As he lapped at her bleeding hand like a beaten and starving dog, he thought of his scriptures to look for any justification for his sins. He then thought of the Song of Solomon and how it encouraged such endeavors. It wasn’t a sin to worship such a beauty before him if God told him to in His scripture. Natalie was put on this world and given to him to worship and appreciate. Being with her and tasting her so intimately is his most holy communion, as he worshiped her body and paid reverence to her very being.

“Oh, angel,” He sighed, forcing himself to pull away from her bleeding hand. Before she could respond, he sat on his knees before her and wrapped his hands around her thighs, “Please, I need your forgiveness. I've been away from you for too long, please, Natalie.”

Natalie’s face was bright red and her breathing was uneven. She looked down at Paul, who was panting with a strand of hair in his face. His trembling hands slowly moved into her dress and rested on her hips. His eyes were begging her to give him permission to remove her panties. Her short dress was bunched up around her thighs, completely exposing herself before the entire empty church before her. She swallowed thickly and nodded, opening her legs more to him.

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties, “Oh, thank you, my darling. Thank you, thank you,” He praised, peeling her underpants off and hastily discarding them.

His hands gripped her thighs more tightly now and pulled her towards the edge of the table more so that he could get closer to her. Paul couldn’t help but freeze and stare at the sight before him. He felt Natalie tangle her fingers in his thick hair and tore his eyes away from her pussy to look at her.

He licked his lips and sighed contently, “Beautiful. Forgive me for not being able to contain myself." He didn’t wait for her to respond before peppering the inside of her thighs with kisses, trying his best to ignore the urge to bite into them, "Please also forgive me for not doing this sooner."

He caressed her calves and set her legs on his shoulders before allowing himself to finally taste her again. His tongue licked a slow, flat stripe upwards that made Natalie's breath hitch. He chuckled softly and pressed his tongue a little deeper inside of her and pulled her a little closer to him. Natalie gasped and cried out, pulling his hair a little while he pleasured her with his tongue. Paul gazed up at her through hooded eyes and whimpered into her, not caring to hide his neediness for her any longer. He wanted to talk and sing praises to her without having to move away from her so instead, he just mentally prayed and hoped that she knew just how much he adored her. How much he needed her. God, he was so desperate for her and her touch that he didn't know how he lived without it for so many years. His nails dug into her thighs and left little indents in the skin; almost as if he wanted to stop himself from relieving the erection that pressed against his jeans and made them feel tighter.

No, this was about her. He needed this to be all about her. He needed to consume her, body and soul, blood and cum, he needed it all. Words alone could not describe just how much he ached for Natalie and he wished so badly that she knew just how intense it was. She was his salvation and reminder that there truly was a God because who else could create such an angelic being? Natalie was everything to him: his last feast, his guiding light, his altar to worship, the Mother Mary herself, the innocence he wanted to adore forever. His painful hunger could never compare to how much he craved her.

Paul circled his skilled tongue around her clit and groaned. He felt like his entire body ached and cried out for her and only her. Natalie’s voice was hoarse from all the moans and praises she had been crying out as Paul worshiped her with his tongue.

"Paul, oh, God!" She bit her lip in an attempt to make herself quiet but it was in vain, "If you keep that up, I'm gonna cum."

He whined at that and kept going, only a little faster now. He was excited to make her finish and feel amazing but he also never wanted to stop tasting her. He buried his tongue deep inside her and with one final lick, Natalie tensed up and her orgasm came. Her eyes squeezed so tight that she thought she saw stars and she could utter nothing but Paul's name. He eagerly cleaned up the mess she made and desperately licked up the last of her cum. Finally, he pulled away and looked at her with a pussy drunk gaze.

He was panting and his lips were slick with her wetness, "God, I've never tasted anything sweeter in my life."

She was trying to catch her breath, "For what it's worth, I forgive you."

"You are too kind, my love," He stood up and struggled to remove his pants, "I'm not done repenting for my sins just yet, though."

Finally, he allowed himself to pull his pants down and touch himself. His cock was coated in precum and sensitive to the touch. He kissed her lovingly and she could taste her own cum on his lips. As they kissed, Paul positioned his cock and gently pressed himself inside of her. Natalie gasped and he took that as an invitation to slowly inch his tongue inside her mouth to deepen their kiss. Her pussy felt so sensitive as Paul started to thrust inside of her but it was welcomed. Her brain felt so fuzzy with all the pleasure he had given her that it was like it shut off. He started to pick up speed as he fucked her on the altar, the table she was sitting on squeaking and shaking with every thrust he made. As he fucked her, another orgasm slowly threatened to approach Natalie. She felt that familiar coil in her lower stomach. Her moans became more breathy and she held onto Paul's neck for dear life.

"Oh, angel, are you going to cum again for me?" He asked between thrusts, "That's okay, please do. Please let me know that I'm doing my job right."

Natalie nodded and then clenched around him as another orgasm washed over her. This one made her feel more sensitive than the last and made her entire body feel hot and tingly. Paul sloppily thrusted inside of her a few more times before cumming inside of her. He pulled out of her and paused to take a breath. Natalie stayed seated on the table and reveled in that post sex glow. Paul's cum slowly oozed out of her and dripped onto the table and floor beneath her. To him, it almost looked like an offering to God.

"Come here," He sighed, smiling at her, "How about I help clean you off?"

She sheepishly giggled, "You made quite the mess, didn't you?"

Paul wanted to tell her so many things. He wanted to tell her how he finally understood why Eve took the apple, how perfect she looked with his cum filling her up and leaking out of her, how she was an angel sent from Heaven to him. But all he could muster was, "I guess so."

Natalie yawned and slowly slid off the table, "You never needed my forgiveness, you know. All I wanted was for you to read with me or something."

"Oh? So I didn't need to do this little song and dance for you?"

"Well, I'm certainly not complaining!"

They went back and forth like that while they cleaned up. They did their best to make Saint Patrick's look as if no one had touched it for several hours. The entire time, though, that hunger plagued Paul again. He eyed her neck carefully and wanted nothing more than to pleasure her again and sink his teeth into it. He decided against it for now but doubted that he would be able to resist her temptation for much longer.

#my stuff ♡#🦇📿#minors dni #nsft #nsft self shipping #priest kink #blasphemy #religion tw

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scullysexual · 1 year

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Spooky Mulder's UFO Club.

After losing a bet, Scully is forced to join Spooky Mulder’s UFO Club. (actually it’s called The Study of Unexplained Phenomena Project, and it’s a class not a club, but whatever) Ridiculed throughout the school by students and staff alike, Scully wants to get it over with as soon as she can and come “back down to earth” when a class trip up to Alaska, to do their own investigations into the mysterious deaths of four hikers, finds them stranded with an unknown virus wreaking havoc and a woods that becomes its own entity at night, Scully realises this dumb little class packs a lot more horror than she bargained for.

---

Fuck it, we're going in for chapter 2 tonight. I've got 5 chapters written so far and I'm feeling really good about this fic, it's giving Jewel in the sense of feeling like I can write and complete this. So long as the momentum isn't dropped and I don't hit a wall we should be good to go.

Chapter One | AO3 | @today-in-fic

Chapter Two: Mrs Spooky.

Her Biology test had gone terribly. So much so her teacher had brought it up at the end of the lesson.

“Is there something else on your mind, Dana?” Mr Waterston had asked.

“No,” Dana had answered. “I’m just having a bad day.”

A bad day was an understatement. Despite only just having lost her bet with Mulder on the Friday, by Monday everyone knew she would be the newest member of his UFO club.

“Seen any flying saucers today, Mrs Spooky?” Tom Colton had asked the moment she sat down for English. The joke had erupted laughter from that corner of the classroom. Even Ethan, when slapped on the arm by Todd, let out an uncomfortable chuckle. The look he gave her after was…unreadable but deep down Dana knew he what is look was: anger. At her.

“The fuck are you doing?” He asked the moment the class had ended. Dana’s eyes moved to the people staring at them and Ethan’s followed. Realising, he grabbed her arm pulling her into an alcove, shielding them from view.

“That class is a fucking joke,” he tells her as if she didn’t already know. “The fuck are you doing? And what’s this I keep hearing about losing a bet?”

“I doesn’t matter. I just said I’d go in and help him out a few things.”

“Help him…” He seems like he’s about to say something then he stops suddenly, switching, eyebrows frowning. “Is that who you went home with Friday night?”

Dana doesn’t miss the word choice. “He gave me a lift home,” she says. “Something you were unable to do. I mean, you told me to find someone to take me home.” The anger she felt that night was stirring up again.

“Oh I’m sorry, did you want us to crash into a fucking tree. I was drunk, Dana. You should’ve just stayed like I told you to, then we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“What mess? It’s a stupid class, Ethan.”

“No Art is a stupid class, Dana. Spooky Mulder’s fucking UFO Club- that’s a mess.”

Dana glares at him, silent.

“You might want to be Mrs Spooky but I don’t want to be Mr Spooky so you go in there and you tell Mulder that the deals off, you won’t be joining.” Ethan left after that, marching off through the doors towards his journalism club. Dana adjusts her bag on her shoulders, heading the opposite way towards TSOUP.

Despite it being a class it often took place after school hours and there weren’t many people in it. Aside from Mulder there were three other people that Dana assumed were his friends who went by the collective name of The Lone Gunmen- something to do with JFK’s assentation. Despite of their use of incorrect grammar they did run a school magazine called The Magic Bullet. Nobody read it. Dana did once, just out of curiosity, hidden away in the library behind her science textbook where nobody could see it. Their ideas were ridiculous, of course, but god did Dana have fun debating with herself and the contents of the magazine.

On the other side of the room sat the only two girls in the class; Monica Reyes and Leyla Harrison either of who Dana particularly knew very well to say anything about them. She stares at her classmates with a mix of dread and intrigue.

In truth, this class did hold some curiosity for her. Unexplained phenomena went deeper than just flying saucers after all. A lot of what was encountered often questioned the laws of science, made science fight for its opinion on the matter rather than assuming it was immediately right. While logically, Dana would have to refuse its credibility, part of her couldn’t help but wonder the what if…If this class had a better rep, if the people in it weren’t total nutjobs, then there wouldn’t have been a need for a bet to put her here, she’d have joined all by herself.

“You’re here,” says a voice of surprise.

Dana turns to find Mulder standing next to her, a look of surprise on his face.

“The bet…” Dana says as way of explanation.

Mulder smiles and Dana realises just how much she missed it.

“That was just a stupid thing…You don’t need to be here if you don’t want to.” There’s a hint of guilt in his voice as he says that last part.

Dana takes another glance inside at all the characters. They haven’t noticed her yet, too busy chatting about whatever. The front wall catches her attention; between the teacher’s desk sits a cork board, all manner of newspaper clippings, pictures, articles pinned onto it. Near the far left corner is a poster- a UFO flying above the trees, the words I Want To Believe written above it. She looks back at Mulder, sees him looking at her in earnest, waiting for her response.

“I think I’ll stay,” she says.

Her response earns her another Mulder smile. He extends his hand out.

“Welcome to the club, Scully.”

Dana shakes it back.

#the x-files #the x files #txf fic #xfiles fanfiction #smufoc #scullysexualwrites

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morvantmortuary · 2 years

Text

Blood Fest Week 1: our strange duet

Blood Fest prompts: Rope. Teeth. Size. Blood. keywords: Wicked. Rain.

summary: Maxi has a hard time focusing at work after your date the night before, and resorts to some... unusual tactics to find relief.

warnings: smut, 18+ only, minors dni. descriptions of embalming and body restoration, of grievous mortal injury, grief, mourning. discussion of body dysphoria, chest anxiety. brief talking about being queer and hiding it in the deep south. brief discussion of male body image issues. mutual oral sex (m and afab receiving), brief facefucking, first time as a couple sex, period sex. discussions of the demon living in maxi’s body, for funsies. stalking, breaking and entering, sort of spying on someone in the shower, use of sex toys, size kink, voyeurism, masturbation, slight breeding kink if you squint, minor humiliation kink, maxi is the definition of a service switch, definitely creepy behavior from the serial killer, dead dove do not eat, don’t open the bag if you’re not a slasherfucker ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

general: Reader is non-binary/genderqueer, uses they/she pronouns; Reader is plus size, Reader is queer, Maxi is bi and talks about it. Everything else has been left up to the reader, please let me know if I need to tweak any language.

y’all wanna get a little weird with me this spooky season?

(I’ve been writing this one for funsies for a while, but I’m super grateful to the lovely Bree at @the-slasher-files for this delightful opportunity to share this for an event. Sorry mine’s so late, and they definitely won’t all be this long!! :’D Week 2 will hopefully be up later tonight or tomorrow, and I’ll hopefully not be too late with the rest of them lol

okay! here goes!!

Maxi was pretty sure he shouldn’t be thinking of you on top of him last night while he was preparing to embalm the forty-something woman on his table. No, in fact he was certain he shouldn’t. Despite the multiple layers of PPE he was wearing - his usual scrubs, gloves, and mask, and then a plastic splashguard over that - he still caught himself feeling oddly vulnerable in front of the decedent. He was used to empty, staring eyes, he’d been used to them for more than half his life. But something about Mrs. Berthelot-Yang’s glazed gaze today made him feel like he was the one with just a sheet for modesty’s sake, rather than the other way around. He kept dropping things, leaving them in his office or on the wrong counters, forgetting what he was doing in the middle of filling out paperwork - he couldn’t help but feel like he was fumbling in an entirely different sense, whereas last night couldn’t have felt easier.

But damn, if you didn’t seem to have him utterly bewitched, and you’d only been going out for a month.

Well, okay, three weeks, six days, thirteen hours, give or take fifteen minutes. …But who was counting, anyway. Certainly not him, nope.

There was something about you he was having a hard time putting his finger on, but since that kismet day in the cemetery, he’d found his mind wandering back to you at the most inexplicable moments. He couldn’t hear the afternoon rain pelting his windows without remembering your smile in the passenger seat of the hearse, giggling even when you were soaked. He couldn’t just lay on his couch in the grip of insomnia and watch a shitty horror movie without remembering your soft, clean scent when you were sitting next to him at the movie theater, and how he’d wondered if the cherry slush would’ve been any sweeter if he’d tasted it on your tongue.

And now, despite the purposeful chill of the prep room, he swore he could still felt the heat of your mostly-bare form pressed against his while it had taken everything in him not to devour you on the spot.

He’d been careful with you. He’d been so goddamn achingly careful with you, wanting to take this slow. He wanted to make sure he took his time with you, didn’t scare you off, didn’t lose your interest before he got the chance to...

He blinked out of his trance when he realized he was still standing over Mrs. Berthelot-Yang with the trocar still in his hands, staring at her still violently bruised and scraped bare abdomen. Motorcycle crash on the highway. Even with a helmet, she hadn’t been any match for the concrete barrier she’d swerved into in her attempt to move around a semi that had thrown on its brakes. The devastated wife was delivering her clothes tomorrow for her viewing this weekend.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he sighed, shaking his head in exasperation and feeling himself blush. “I don’t know where my head’s at today, I swear.” That was a lie. He knew exactly where his head was at.

He heard a ghostly chuckle from the very edge of the salt that bordered the edges of the room — not the sharp, cruel ones of some of the House’s permanent residents, but something soft. Almost knowing. He glanced up to see the faintest flicker of movement near the door, as though a figure had just poked their head in the room and pulled it quickly back out again.

There was sudden wafting of a warm, light scent of jasmine and vanilla… a perfume. Her favorite, her wife had told him through tears in the client parlor upstairs - and Maxi couldn’t help but smile a little to himself as he relaxed. It was always a relief to have an understanding guest of honor.

Or, well, as much as they could be, under the circumstances.

“Thank you for bein’ patient with me,” he said, carefully lining up the sharp tip of the instrument with a spot just beside her navel. “Now, this is gonna look nasty, but I promise it’ll be better in just a sec—“

The tip slid through the soft flesh like butter, and he let the trocar do its work before carefully angling it again to perforate the other end of the cavity. With a couple more easy jabs, he set it aside, watching the new wounds attentively before he set to preparing to close what needed closing.

But even as his hands went through the same motions as they had for a little less than two decades, his mind wandered immediately back to you, and the curiously strong effect you’d had on him already. He couldn’t explain it to himself, but he felt like if he slept with you and you ghosted, it would drive him insane for ages afterwards. He’d had friends with benefits before, sure, but they were usually more of an obstacle to work around with his… other nocturnal activities, than something he ended up entertaining for long.

And he wanted more with you, he already knew that. He wanted so much more, so soon, and he was trying his damnedest to be cool about it, but god if you didn’t make it difficult in the best way. How you liked his morbid jokes, and he genuinely laughed at yours, how you didn’t mind his odd hours or his tendency to ramble about various histories of death and decay at the drop of the hat. How curious you seemed about his work, and your compassion for the families he dealt with. How he loved the way you talked about your own day, even if it was something as simple as your side gig, and the care you took with it even when it was frustrating you. He just liked you. All of you.

And he’d been so close to finally getting all of you last night, when the two of you had stumbled into your bedroom after you’d invited him over —

He maybe should’ve guessed something new was afoot when you’d wanted to change plans from actually going out to just staying in for a quiet evening at your place, but he’d been happy just to get to spend time with you, so he hadn’t thought about it too much. It had genuinely started as the two of you goofing around with some multiplayer horror title over pizza, but when you’d teasingly tried to distract him by kissing his neck like you usually did, you lingered there just a touch longer than normal. There was a bit of teeth to it, heat that the two of you had skirted but hadn’t quite explored yet.

Needless to say, he’d immediately dropped his controller to pull you into his lap. You hadn’t protested - to the contrary, you’d straddled his thighs with yours, your hand pulling his shirt collar like a leash to close any distance left.

— Even through the rubber gloves he was wearing now, he swore he could still feel the silk of your skin like fire against his palms. He shook his head again, the trocar wounds closed and now trying to thread the needle so he could sew the dear lady’s mouth closed through the frenulum and up through the septum. But he felt his face burn under his mask as he remembered just how you’d sighed when he’d run his hands up your sides under your top.

Like you were relieved. Like you’d been waiting for him to touch you, almost as much as he’d wanted to.

If you had any idea how hard it had been for him to let you go, especially once he heard that sound, you would’ve called the cops—

“Son of a bitch,” he growled, putting the musculature needle down just a little too hard on the steel table top when he couldn’t get his hands to stop shaking.

He was instinctively reaching to pinch the bridge of his nose under his glasses when his hand ran smack into the plastic face shield instead. Frustrated, his swore under his breath, about to fling the offending garment across the room when he heard another gentle laugh from the doorway. He hesitated, then carefully exhaled his frustration in a practiced sigh through his nose, before turning to look over his shoulder. “Well,” he mumbled, the tension leaving his shoulders. “I’m glad one of us is havin’ fun with this.”

He could see a gentle swirl of white floating in the doorway, like steam out of a shower. For a moment, the swirl changed direction, as though something like a waving hand had interrupted its floating through space.

With this small encouragement, he turned back to the waiting guest, taking another cleansing deep breath. “Get it together, Morvant, christ,” he muttered, tilting his head to both sides to crack his neck before trying again. You had him acting like an amateur in his own house.

This time, he hooked the needle through the needed places as easily as writing his own name.

He still frowned even as he neatly stitched the lips closed, hearing the faintest echo of his father in his head. Not the torso half-corpse chained to the wall downstairs, thank Everything Below. But the version that still loomed large in the crevices of his brain, that still snidely muttered about his every move if he performed his duties less than perfectly.

Mooning over a mortal. Jesus, his father would’ve taken the belt to him for that. Again.

Once he was satisfied with how her mouth lay, he picked up the wax he’d be using to fill some of the rougher contusions on Mrs. Berthelot-Yang’s face. With a careful angling of a flat blade to get it out of the jar, he rolled it across the side of his latex-gloved hand, letting it warm itself into something malleable.

You would’ve been worth his father’s wrath, he caught himself thinking. He didn’t know quite how he was so confident yet — the unbearable soon-ness of it haunted him again as he sized up the empty hole the glass shards had left in her cheek — but as he did so, he felt you again, flush against him like you were there in the room.

He’d gotten greedy last night, he knew that, but you’d been right there and so soft, he couldn’t resist. He clenched his free hand through his glove as he remembered the scent of your neck, the lightest hint of some delicious fragrance as he’d taken small, covetous bites of your flesh just to feel you writhe in his grip.

He’d paused his tasting at the neckline of your shirt, sitting back to watch you open your eyes he stopped. “…Can I take this off you?” His hands were still up at your back, holding you close, but he indicated what he meant in the way he passed them over the fabric. The two of you had a tendency to be all over each other in stolen private moments during the brief time you’d been going out: at the House, in the hearse, on his favorite bench in the cemetery. But these had been careful explorations despite your shared enthusiasm, mostly over clothes due to him never being quite sure who - or what - might be lurking nearby. Now, there was no threat of a paranormal pest, or his spectral sister’s looming eyes from the shadows.

It was just you and him, alone at last.

He was too close to you not to see the tiniest hesitation on your part - your teeth briefly grazing your lower lip - before you nodded, your coy smile back in place. “…I’d like to keep what’s under it on, though,” you admitted, your voice soft in how close you were to him. “Is that… Okay?”

“Anythin’s fine by me,” he murmured somewhat hazily, nodding as his hands slid down your sides to your thin top. “Whatever makes you feel comfortable, gorgeous.” He savored the feeling of his fingers sliding under the fabric and finding the warmth of your bare skin, curling around its hem, before he glanced up at you one more time to double check.

You nodded again, your eyes bright with anticipation, and that was all it took for him to yank the flimsy fabric over your head.

Maxi sat back slightly, taking in your mostly-bare torso — your soft stomach was adorably sweet, just as he’d imagined. He admired your clavicle, the way it was set into your shoulders, the way your skin looked with all the small marks collected over a life. You were a miracle, a work of art, just like he’d dreamed. He took you in almost ravenously, wanting to memorize every freckle, mole, spot. The small galaxy that was you.

You shifted in his lap, your arms drawing in slightly over the dark garment covering your breasts. He couldn’t help but move his attention there as well, pausing in his awe-struck inspection. That… wasn’t a bra. At least, not one he was familiar with. He was flustered internally for a moment; he knew he hadn’t dated around in a while, but did they really start making them a whole different way when he wasn’t paying attention? He swore he’d just put a regular one on a nice little octogenarian at work the other day; was that considered outmoded now? An antique?

“…It’s a half-binder,” you said softly, snapping his attention abruptly back to your face. His heart jumped into his throat when he saw you looking shyly down at your thighs, anticipation replaced with more hesitancy. “It’s. Um— It’s for when—“

“Oh, no, that’s not—“ Maxi stumbled and nearly bit his own tongue, cursing himself for interrupting you. But he was desperate for you to understand how much he was only looking at you with wonder, not with second thoughts. He wanted to curl into himself in agony at the mere thought of you having such a notion.

But the way you looked immediately back to him made him think you were almost more nervous than he was, rather than annoyed, and he felt a flash of protective fondness at the expression on your face.

“I— It’s okay,” he soothed, nodding. He reached up to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek as he kissed your jaw line. “It’s fine,” he reassured you again, smiling at you. “That’s all okay, baby. I only looked concerned because… well,” he paused, feeling his own face warm slightly. “I thought they’d gone and changed how they made bras on me, s’all.”

Your uncertainty was punctured by your surprised laugh, and he immediately felt relieved at the return of your smile, even as he rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t want to do anything that would make you think he was less than… capable, of taking care of you. But he was only being honest.

“No,” you said, kissing the corner of his mouth. “You’re sweet. No, this is a different thing.” You shook your head. “It’s… um.” The shyness crept back into your face, and as much as he wanted to reassure you again, he made himself wait for what you wanted to say. “…Okay, so,” you said slowly, letting out a breath that shook a little around the edges. “Sometimes, um. I have some presentation issues around my…” You paused like there was something stuck in your throat, instead gesturing to your chest under your binder. “And I don’t… really want to have them there. Or out. Or, like…” Your hand clawed for a moment in frustration as you tried to explain. “I just don’t want them to be a focus?” you managed at last, a sigh on the heel of your words. “I don’t know, sometimes I’m fine with them! I mean— Obviously,” you gestured shyly to Maxi, who immediately recalled every time he’d pulled down your neckline to nip at the top of your breasts greedily, on his couch during a bad movie, or against the wall of a crypt during a cemetery walk.

“I’m… very familiar, yes,” he agreed, smiling even as he felt the heat in his cheeks.

Your smile in return reassured him, and he watched the tension in you ease. You reached up, running your fingers through his hair, and he had to fight not to shiver pleasurably at the contact. “I just… today was a bad chest day, is all.” You bit your lip again, clearly still somewhat nervous about this. “And I was just, um. I thought we might… and if I- I flinched, or something, I didn’t want you to think… it was you, or anything. Because it’s not. It never would be.“ You looked down at your thighs again as you trailed off, your hands sliding to his shoulders. “It’s just - this thing my brain does sometimes, and I don’t always know when.”

Maxi was trying too hard not to get stuck on the fact that you had implied you’d never flinch from him, from his touch, his heart fluttering like a trapped bird in his chest with muffled excitement. He had been trying to slow down just how hard he’d been falling for you lately, but you weren’t making it easy. You didn’t know, you didn’t know, he reminded himself sternly. He couldn’t take it entirely at face value if he knew what he was hiding from you, and you didn’t.

And ideally, he thought to himself, you never… would. Not completely, anyway.

Because there’s no way you’d stay if you knew what he was, was there?

Realizing he’d been still too long, been too quiet, his hands went to your hips and squeezed affectionately. “Hey.” He waited until you met his eyes to roll his shoulders in a slow, lazy shrug, smiling up at you. “I’m just happy to be here with you like this, darlin’,” he said, his tone hushed again as he ran his hands up your bare sides. “Really. That’s all. Whatever you don’t wanna do, or— don’t want me to touch,” His hands stopped a respectful couple of finger widths away from your binder. “We don’t have to, at all. Okay?” He shifted a little, going to loosen his tie out of habit before realizing he’d already taken it off and left it in the hearse before he walked in. He flattened his lips instinctively into a line for a moment, his eyes wandering off to the side as he realized what he wanted to tell you right now.

It wasn’t The Thing, but it something he didn’t discuss often, that was for damn sure.

“You’re sure?”

He looked immediately back to you, and realized you’d been watching his face. Your eyes were careful, searching - veiled, he noticed with a hint of panic. You must’ve thought his hesitation was about you, when nothing could be further from the truth.

“Yes,” he said immediately, nodding vigorously. “Yes, angel, absolutely.” He tapped his fingers where they rested on your skin. “Your boundaries are yours. I’m not about to want anythin’ you tell me you don’t, I swear.” He smiled at you again, feeling a little nervous now. “I was just… you got me thinkin’, is all.”

You blinked, your eyes lightening a little bit as you tilted your head. “Oh yeah?”

Maxi nodded, wetting his lips out of nervous habit. “I…” He hummed quietly, trying to figure out how to word this, exactly. He cleared his throat a little, before looking back to you. “…You, um.” He swallowed. “…On our first date,” he finally said, forcing himself to meet your eyes. “I saw your, um. Your pride pins. On your bag, and all. And then, of course, you told me ‘they’ worked for you, obviously,” he added quickly, realizing he was just talking in circles. “So I just… god,” he sighed in frustration, his head falling backwards against the couch to stare at your ceiling. “Why is this hard.”

“…I could state the obvious,” you deadpanned, still straddling his lap.

There was a pause, and Maxi half-shrugged. “You’d have a point.”

He met your eyes again, and the both of you dissolved into muffled laughter, the tension at last broken.

“What are you trying to say, Maxi?” you asked when you’d both got it out of your system, tilting your head the other way to catch his eyes again.

Maxi sighed, looking up at where you were perched on his lap. “What I’m tryin’ to say,” he said quietly, forcing it out now. “Is that… me too?”

You blinked, your brow crinkling. “…You ‘too’?”

Maxi groaned, running one hand under his glasses over his face. “You’re gonna have to forgive me, Darlin’, old habits die hard.” He gave you an apologetic smile. “I mean… I have to be a little more careful about, y’know… who knows, and all,” he said, gesturing vaguely around the room to indicate Greymoon as a whole. He swallowed again, not sure why his heart was racing, why his palms felt like they were going to sweat. You of all people were someone he knew he could tell this to and be safe. So why did this still scare him? “I, um.” He felt himself flushing furiously, looking at you and mentally begging you to understand. “…If I could wear ‘em, y’know, and not get shit for it with my… my job, and all,” he said quietly. “I know we’d have at least one of ‘em in common.” He let out a quick, slightly unsteady breath. “I don’t say this to make things about me,” he said quickly again, his words tripping over themselves. “…But because I really want you to know, there’s nothin’ you could do, or change about yourself, or how you present, or anythin’, that would make me… not attracted to you,” he explained quietly. “Does that make sense?”

Your eyes visibly brightened when you beamed at him, clearly relieved - and, if he dared let himself believe it, even elated. “Yes,” you said, nodding excitedly. “Yes, it totally makes sense.” You leaned in, cupping his face in your hands. “I fucking knew it,” you added in a triumphant whisper, your smile delighted, before you closed the distance and kissed him intensely.

In that moment, Maxi was suddenly intensely aware of the feeling of something… else, looking out through his eyes at you.

Something that wanted you - to drink the light from your eyes until there was nothing left - with such a desperate ferocity, he could swear the scream was audible inside his own skull.

Startled by this unbidden urge, he broke this shared kiss abruptly, pressing a messy kiss to your pulse in your throat. External sensation tended to help shut the Reaper up or drown it out, and you gave him plenty of that: the softness of your skin, the scent you wore in your hair, the surprised noise from low in your chest that turned into a barely-muffled mewl. He lingered there, drawing it out, feeling you squirm on his lap as your hands found his hair again and tried to tug him upward. He winced only slightly, seemingly determined to leave his unmistakable mark on the precious column of your neck, but internally he was running a panicked inventory. After decades of being aware of the Reaper, the demon that had made him its home, he thought he’d gotten a good handle on just what could set it off. Sure, it had made noises about liking you, especially the more you hung around. It had done that with everyone he’d dated, as inescapable as it was. It was a jealous, territorial sumbitch, but so was he, deep down, so he couldn’t really blame it.

But that fascination, that need… what the fuck was that? Demanding as his darker self was, it had never been that… specific. Blood, flesh, souls, the usual maudlin bullshit, sure, he was used to it railing and howling and carrying on as it called for what it believed was its Due. Sometimes for sleepless nights on end, when he was younger and trying to fight his true nature.

But wanting you? Specifically, to watch the life drain from your face? To feel your flesh grow cold under his palms?

He had the unavoidable mental image of something else wearing his face, running a tongue over too-sharp teeth in his mouth, and he couldn’t fight a shudder.

Before he could really figure out what had triggered the spike of aggression, however, you’d turned the tables, yanking slightly on his hair so you could capture his lips when he reluctantly let go of your throat. Your hands moved to unbutton the dress shirt he’d worn having come straight from closing up, and he felt you pause when you got so far down, then the twist of your smile against his mouth as your hand found his shirt stays still on once you unbuttoned his slacks.

“Aw, Maxi - for me?” As much as you were trying to tease, he could hear how you sounded slightly breathless, your fingers shy as they skimmed over the elastic.

His face positively burned, and he wondered if you could feel its warmth, as close as you were. “Well,” he mumbled, suddenly unable to quite meet your gaze. “You mentioned that you, um. Didn’t mind, last time—“

“No,’ you corrected softly, and he looked up immediately. You were fighting a grin as you toyed with the one on his left thigh, before your eyes flicked back to his. “I said I thought they were hot, remember?” You gave him a coy smirk. “That’s different.”

He had to remember to swallow just then, the Reaper well and truly quiet as his brain was too overloaded to process much else besides your expression and your fingers tracing along the inside of his thighs. With some maneuvering, you had his shirt open a moment later, your hands roving over the coarse hair on his torso.

Something else he couldn’t help but adore about you, besides the enchantingly warm squish of your figure against him, was the way you seemed just as taken with him as he did with you in that aspect. Lord knew why — he knew he was that slightly confusing mix of lean with a soft stomach, and he still didn’t know how to feel about that even now — but it was also the way you didn’t seem to flinch at any of his scars. Namely and especially the thick line of tissue over his heart, where his father had beat him to the punch and drawn first blood all those years ago, and where he’d painstakingly re-opened it not long after, trying a particularly dark bit of magic in attempt to dull his own pain.

As he’d held you last night in his arms, feeling your warm palm ghost over it with all the sweetness in the world, he was so bitterly glad that it had backfired - and not as badly as it had for his late sister.

“I want you.” You’d said it so softly, your lips brushing his, that it nearly broke him. “Please?”

“I’m yours.” He’d answered as automatically as breathing, and for a moment he’d felt at least a fraction of the blood rush back to his face, realizing just how… eager, he must have sounded. But you’d only laughed in that way that left him weak every time, and when he’d shifted underneath you to kiss you harder, it had hitched into the sweetest breathy moan when his cock pressed against the core of you through the cotton shorts you’d worn.

“Goddamn, Maxi,” you’d whispered, pulling away to glance down between the two of you, and it was everything he could do not to let himself smirk. You’d turned it right back on him though when your eyes met his again with what was unmistakably hunger. “You gonna wreck me with that, babe, or just make me suck on it?”

He’d heard the soft hissing inhale through his teeth before he even realized it was him, his hand gently settling over your throat. Even as he held it like it was made of glass, he still felt himself freeze, realizing he hadn’t asked you first. He watched your eyes, nervously retracting his hand just slightly to hover above your skin — only to relax when he saw the entertained glint there, and the way you tilted your chin back to grant him access.

He replaced his hand delicately, his thumb lovingly tracing the vein he knew lay just underneath your skin from years of filling others with formaldehyde. “You’ve got a hell of a mouth on you, sugar,” he’d murmured darkly, unable to help himself. “If you’re not careful, you’re gonna give me ideas.”

This was apparently the right thing to say, because you’d shoved your neck further into his palm as you’d kissed him furiously, grinding your cunt against his length as you did so.

He’d had to will himself to keep at least a modicum of self-control, both hands falling to your hips and pulling you harder against him to hear you gasp. As he felt the faintest trace of heat and slick through the thin garment of your underwear, his grip turned to steel, fighting the urge to yank away the meaningless little fabric between the pair of you and push into you to give you what you wanted — what he wanted, if he was being honest, just to feel you clench around him in any capacity. When he heard your gasp change to a soft, tremulous moan as you moved again, it took everything in him to force himself to let go of your waist.

“Your room.” He’d blurted it before he realized quite what he was doing, and you’d blinked at him, your eyes already sweetly hazy. “…Please,” he added, swallowing slightly. “I want to-- I need to do this right.” He pressed a soft kiss to your jawline, hoping he hadn’t just made a fool of himself. “I wanna do this like you deserve.” If this was going to go how he thought, he wanted to make sure it mattered. That even if it was all he ever got, he could say he’d gotten to really savor all of you while he’d had it ever so briefly in his grasp.

Your laugh was shaky but real, and you tilted your head to kiss him again (and, unbeknownst to you, muffle his sigh of relief). “You fucking angel, you’re so sweet,” you’d murmured, kissing his mouth and his cheek and the tip of his nose in quick succession. “C’mon.” You’d stepped backwards onto your floor, grabbing his hands to pull him up with you, and the two of you had only run into a chair and one wall when you couldn’t be bothered to look up from refusing to let go of the other person.

Maxi had been over to your house enough times that it wasn’t too odd how well he could pick his way through your living room, and then your hallway. Luckily, by the time he was walking you backwards to your bed, you were too busy nipping his lower lip and gripping the back of his neck to notice just how well he could navigate across your somewhat messy floor, sidestepping you carefully around things he logically shouldn’t have already known were there.

But he’d gotten very well acquainted with your floor in the last couple of weeks. And the space under your bed, which if he was being honest, was more comfortable than most, if only for the rug underneath and the lack of perilous storage boxes he’d have to contort himself to fit around. It would’ve been downright homey, comparatively, if he wasn’t constantly in danger of knocking his head on your bed frame if he sat up too quickly.

In that moment, he’d been beyond thrilled to be with you on top of your mattress as the two of you fell towards it. He was more than happy to be pinned beneath your full hips, his hands caressing your sides, and feeling you push yourself against his cock already leaking into his clothes as you sought any sort of friction between the two of you. This was more than agreeable. If you wanted to ride him until he couldn’t remember his own name, that would be divine. There would be plenty of time after to fuck you into your mattress until you ruined your sheets, he had all night.

Your fingers had finally hooked into the open waistband of his slacks when suddenly you hissed a curse under your breath, withdrawing so abruptly he was left bewilderedly blinking at your ceiling for a moment.

“Gorgeous?” He sat up to see where you’d pulled back, your expression at once stricken and frustrated. “What’s wrong- you okay?” He felt himself snap out of his own blissful trance, looking you over for any immediate obvious cause of distress. “…Is it somethin’ I did?” He swore he’d just been laying here savoring the taste of your tongue - did he miss something obvious? Had he been careless, distracted? The latter had made him panic even more, wondering if the dark presence inside him had somehow made itself known when he had his guard down.

“No,” you shook your head quickly, pressing your lips together in a slightly aggravated line. “No, baby, it’s not you.” You sighed heavily, sitting back and crossing your legs as you looked… embarrassed? You bit your own lower lip hard for a moment, clearly annoyed with something, before you glanced at him from under your lashes. “…My uterus has the worst fucking timing, is all.” You have him a rueful grimace, wincing slightly as you did so.

Maxi felt himself exhale a laugh in relief, his fear immediately abating. “Oh, babydoll - is that all? Hell, I don’t care.” He shrugged, his shoulders suddenly immeasurably light compared to a second ago. “Or — wait, shit, hold on.” He caught himself a second too late, blushing slightly at his own phrasing and quickly running his palm over his face under his glasses. Smooth, dumbass. “I mean,” he said, showing you his palms apologetically. “That I don’t mind. But obviously,” he gestured to you. “I don’t wanna do anything that would make you… uncomfortable.” He gave you a smile meant to be genuinely soothing, but only relaxed when he saw you let out a breath you’d seemed to be holding.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry.” You rolled your eyes, falling on your back next to him with an exaggerated sigh. He immediately stretched out next to you, determined to be as close to you as possible while he had the chance. You were always a vision, to him, but stripped down like this, you were something he wanted to treasure. “I tend to be really… sore, later, after my first day. Like, ‘hurts to sit down’ sore, sometimes.” You rolled onto your side, and your fingertip traced a soft line down his chest and stomach that stopped just above the exposed fabric of his boxers. He suppressed a visible shiver as best he could, but it was a struggle. “And based on what you’re packing, babe,” you said, your eyes flicking downward before meeting his and causing him to forget to breathe for a moment. “I don’t think I’m going to be quite able to handle it all tonight. Which sucks,” you added, with an embarrassed giggle. “Because if I’m being totally honest with you, I was really looking forward to it.” You have him a small, shy smile that still felt somehow conspiratorial.

Jesus, you were going to kill him. He was going to die right there in your bed from the sheer thought that you’d wanted him as much as he’d pined after you.

He took a breath as subtly as he could, trying not to give away that you’d about knocked it all out of him. “Don’t worry about it.” He reached over, lightly moving some of your hair away from your eyes. “Again, I don’t want to do anythin’ you don’t want to do. Right now, later, whenever.” He smiled, admiring your bare stomach and thighs in the soft light of your bedroom window, how the beginnings of the blue hour reflected just a certain way off your skin. You were already lovely from his place in the dark, but out here with you? Where you’d wanted him to see you? “You’ve got me as long as you want me.” His eyes had met yours again, taking in how those shone as well, how he wished he could see them in this light more often.

“But I really do want you, though,” you said with just a hint of a whine, and when you leaned in to kiss him again, it was everything he could do not to roll and pin you down so he could kiss you everywhere, slowly and deliberately. You moved closer to him on your mattress, your hand skimming lower over clothes that now felt far too tight. “Can I… help with this, at all?” —

Maxi swore softly to himself as he mis-aligned the apple of the decedent’s cheek again, impatiently picking up the clay and re-rolling it into what it would’ve looked like if half of it hadn’t been ground off onto the hot concrete of the highway once the visor of the helmet had been smashed out.

“I swear I can do this,” he said over his shoulder, still smelling the hint of perfume. “I’m just… havin’ a day, is all. You know how it is.”

He paused, looking back down at the face he was working on restoring and feeling slightly mortified with himself. “I mean, of course you do. Of course. I’m so sorry, that was thoughtless of me. I’m - I’m just gonna shut up now,” he muttered, furiously re-rolling the clay in his hands to try to change the texture.

When he felt the tiniest ‘thump’ against his shoulder blade, like a heavy palm lightly clapping him on the back, he about jumped out of his skin.

— As cool as you were trying to be about it, he could hear just the slightest hesitancy in your voice still, and he could’ve died at the idea you thought he would still say no to you. “I…” His face felt almost drunkenly warm as he tried desperately to get his brain to work with him here, overwhelmed with just how long he’d ached for you to touch him at all, the warmth of your flesh threatening to scorch his normally cool skin. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to? I—“ He forgot what words were for a second as he felt your hand move again, your fingertips skimming the skin above the waistband between the pair of you. “I’d wanna be able to reciprocate, somehow,” he managed, forcing himself to meet your eyes again. “However, um—“ Oh, you’d been positively teasing him then, sliding his trousers down as slowly as possible while you watched his face. Your expression was sweet, your lips parted just slightly as if in innocent curiosity, but he could still see that light in your eyes that told him you knew exactly what you were doing. “However you feel comfortable,” he said, buying himself time by gently taking your hand in his. “I don’t want this to just be about me.” He couldn’t have imagined anything more agonizing than you touching him and him not being able to touch you. It just wasn’t how he was built. He kissed the back of your hand, and the wickedness in your eyes liquified into something soft. “Please?”

You bit your lip thoughtfully, considering. He knew what it was to be vulnerable with someone new - to be even more vulnerable than you’d maybe expected, in your case. He gazed at you earnestly, hoping you would see that he was already devoted, there was nothing about your body that could scare him, because it was yours, and at this rate, he was as good as.

“…Okay,” you said at last, and he couldn’t help but beam when you smiled a little at his enthusiasm. “But only whatever you’re cool with. Don’t feel like you have to reciprocate in exactly the same way, if you don’t want to.”

“Try me.” Maxi said, quirking a brow in a playful challenge.

“Oh, I intend to,” you murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth before dipping lower to trace the scar over his heart with the white-hot tip of your tongue.

Maxi fought to keep his surprised inhale from being too obvious as you did so, feeling his already present blush turn into a full flush down his neck and shoulders. He’d been with other people, sure, but he couldn’t remember the last time anyone had seemed to… savor that part of him, quite like you were.

But of course you’d caught that. You looked up quickly, meeting his eyes with a furrow of concern. “Sorry,” you said softly, your eyes flicking between his and his scar. “I- should I not—?”

“It’s fine,” he reassured you, kissing your cheek hastily. “You’re fine, sugar, I’m just… not used to that, s’all.” His fingertips ghosted down the line of your jaw, watching your brows ease apart. “…People tend to avoid it,” he explained quietly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile and a shrug of his shoulder.

You blinked. “Oh.” You glanced sheepishly down again. “I should’ve asked first, I know, I just—“ You lifted a hand, your fingers ghosting over the ridge of tissue you’d just claimed with your tongue, and Maxi found himself not only enjoying the feeling, but leaning into it as much as he dared. “…I just figured, it’s you,” you murmured, your eyes finding his again. “And I-“ You broke off, teeth grazing your lip self-consciously like you were fighting a laugh at yourself. “I want that too.”

Maxi sat up with an abruptness that drew a small squeak from you, lifting you so you were straddling his lap now. One hand tangled in your hair as he kissed you hard, the other hand squeezing your hip with a need he was sure gave away just how desperate he was for you—

He slammed down the clay knife a little harder than he meant to on the steel table surface, cussing up a storm under his breath as he failed for a third time to get it shaped exactly how he needed it over the partially exposed gums. “Come on,” he growled, not sure if he was more annoyed with his lack of focus or embarrassed at just how completely you’d invaded his every sense, leaving him stumbling like an apprentice on their first day.

Probably even moreso, given just how long he’d been helping shape flesh back into faces before it was entirely legal for him to do so.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again, straightening up and folding his gloved hands behind his head. He turned away, unable to quite face the woman he was making a fool of himself in front of on his on table. “I swear, this has never happened before, really. I’m absolutely gonna have you lookin’ right as rain for your viewin’, I promise, I’m just… feelin’ a bit off, today.” He gave a long, slow exhale, one that shook just a little bit around the edges. He had to focus. He had to try. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done this hundreds of times.

But you — you were something new. He’d never had to work with someone like you in his head, before.

And it seemed to be having the worst time trying to hold his infatuation and his professionalism in the same amount of space.

— His brain immediately returned to how you’d kissed him back with just as much eagerness, your teeth nipping his lower lip, and when his tongue had filled your mouth, you sucked on it in a way that went straight to the base of his spine.

“PleasecanItaketheseoffyou?” he’d asked in a single breath as he broke away, his fingers hooking impatiently into the cotton lounge shorts you were still wearing.

You looked shy again. “Um. I’m not—“ You sat there for a second, choosing your words. “I’m not wearing a lot underneath,” you mumbled. “I thought I still had a day or so, and I wouldn’t want to—“ You gestured loosely at the white dress shirt he still had hanging loosely about his shoulders, more off than on at this point.

Maxi pressed another messy kiss to the side of your neck, emboldened and secretly thrilled by the idea that you’d been planning ahead for this. That you’d wanted to, been hoping for it maybe as much as he had. “I don’t mind,” he said against your skin, and he felt your head fall back slightly as he kissed down to the crook of your shoulder. “I swear to god I don’t mind, there’s no part of this I don’t mind, I promise you—“

“Okay,” you half-breathed, half-giggled in his ear, and you got your knees under you to hover over his waist just as he pulled down, finding the black mesh waiting for him underneath.

“Baby,” he nearly whined at the sight, his hands moving covetously over the curve of your ass as he admired you. “Fuck, you’re pretty. You always are, of course,” he added quickly, looking up at you where you were still perched up over him on your knees. “Of course I knew that, but— fuck,” he repeated, his hands moving up your plush hips and your soft sides adoringly. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You giggled in a way that went right to his chest. “Calm down, Monsieur, you’ve already got me naked,” you teased, still looking a bit shy.

He hooked his arms around your waist, pulling your stomach flush to his chest where he was somewhat pinned under you. “I mean it,” he whispered, and he watched your face change - the self-conscious half-smile falling away at what must be the sheer dark intensity of his gaze. “You have no idea how much I want you. Just like this.”

He was sure his eyes would have changed, the way he was looking at you. He couldn’t always feel it when they did, but the yowling ache of Want inside him as he looked at you like this, for him — you had to have to seen it. There’s no way you could have seen him and missed it, the way he wanted you all to himself, folded into his arms against the dark that threatened to swallow him up when he thought of being parted from you.

He knew it was scary, especially so soon. It scared him too, in a way. He wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d unwound yourself from his grasp right then and thrown him out.

…But, miracle of miracles, you hadn’t.

You’d watched his eyes with a tilt of your head, transfixed by what, he wasn’t totally sure, but your stare was curious - and, eventually, oddly familiar. He saw it then, that flicker of pure Want, not quite as sharp or dark as his own. But it had been there as you looked down at him, your hands lightly carding through his hair… before one set of fingers tangled in it, scraping ever so lightly at his scalp.

That dark presence in him - something that had no business being so close to you, especially not this quickly - crowed in triumph in a way it hadn’t in a long, long time.

You leaned down, catching his lips in yours, and he met you with a kiss that bordered on ravenous. He couldn’t help the sound that escaped him when you gave another careful, experimental tug at his hair — which blossomed into a full moan when you’d pulled harder, eliminating what space there’d been still between you.

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded as you broke away, the pair of you panting slightly as though you were starved for air. “What can I do for you?”

“…Those all the way off,” you said softly, nodding down at his open slacks as your tongue traced your lips - which, he’d noticed, had begun to look just the tiniest bit swollen with his attentions.

He let go of you only long enough to fumble with them and the accompanying underwear, unable to help the slightest of smirks when your own hands had dropped to help him when you decided he wasn’t quite moving fast enough for you. He’d been appreciative of every display of your enthusiasm so far, but the need he’d felt crackling between the pair of you at that moment had been undeniable.

Maxi slid them off with your help, immediately pulling you back against him as soon as they rustled to your bedroom floor. He was trying to keep his breathing level as he felt you finally skim your palm lightly over his cock, and he couldn’t help but glance down to see you sizing it up.

“Damn, Maxi,” you murmured, glancing back to watch his face as you took it fully in hand. He bit down hard on his lip as you spread the drops that were already waiting there over the head, trying not to be so obvious in how much he’d been wanting you to touch him. “Were you planning on making sure I couldn’t walk tomorrow?”

He opened his mouth to answer, only to have the words tangle into something somewhat incoherent when he watched you move down his abdomen to lick a long, hot stripe towards his hips.

The pressure at the base of his spine was taking over the rest of his brain, and all he wanted was the heat of you around him, wishing he could do exactly as you said.

“Depends on what you wanted, pretty,” he managed through his teeth, feeling his fingers dig into his own palms.

“Oh yeah?” You glanced up at him, moving so your torso was perched gently on his thighs. You ran a fingertip lightly up the inside of one, smirking a little as he obviously squirmed.

Maxi forced himself to nod. “I swear I could— be careful,” he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking as he watched you lick your own palm lasciviously. “I wouldn’t hurt you, I promise—“

“Unless I wanted you to?”

He knew you felt him flex in your palm in response. It was too obvious. He said nothing, looking from where his cock was aching, leaking in your hand to your eyes, where you were watching his face with such a dark glitter to them that he had to fight to keep his hips still in response.

“…Okay,” you said slowly, your smile enigmatic. “Good to know.”

Oh, shit. He was a goner now.

You didn’t say much else, your hand twisting up his shaft and gripping just enough to make him inhale raggedly. You gave him a couple of experimental strokes, watching still before your mouth was around him, and he had to fight to keep his shit together.

“Fuck.” His hands tangled hard into your bedspread, trying to keep himself grounded through this onslaught. He’d kissed you a million times by now - he couldn’t help himself when you were around - and just like then, you were slow, deliberate. Taking your time with him because you seemed to like keeping him right on the line of agony and bliss. He felt the softest puff of air, like a suppressed laugh, and when he looked down he felt everything inside him seize at the way you were watching him, your eyes mischievous as he saw a thread of saliva trace its way from your lower lip down his shaft.

He fell back against your pillow with a moan, forcing himself to look away for a moment so he could keep from totally embarrassing himself with you. You had no right to look that perfect with your mouth on him like that. His fist knitted tighter into your comforter, until he felt the soft touch of your hand on his - looking down, he let you gently pull his hand away from your bed and set it in your hair, holding it there for a second as if to reassure him before your hand returned to pinning his hips to your mattress.

Tentatively, he curled his hand in your hair, not wanting to pull hard enough to hurt. He relished the feeling of its familiar texture, something he’d come to love in the time the two of you had spent on the couch with your head on his shoulder. He was just willing himself to be gentle when he heard the quietest noise, and it was only when he felt a shift in your mouth that he realized you’d taken him deeper.

He pulled hard on your hair reflexively, gasping at the change, at the soft sound of you fighting to take him into your throat. “Fuck, angel, you don’t have to...” He looked down at you, and the slight glaze of tears at the corner of your eyes made him forget himself so entirely, he felt his hips thrust forward before he could stop himself.

If you hadn’t been ready for him, he would’ve hated himself for being so careless with you. But you met his worried eyes with something of a challenge, your tongue tracing the underside of his shaft invitingly, and something dark in him delighted at the mirror it seemed to find in you.

Experimentally, Maxi thrust up again, and when he could feel you fighting to control your breath, he wound his fingers tighter in your hair and pulled.

Your moan couldn’t have been more exquisite, and Maxi at last let himself give in.

He wasn’t a monster - his thrusts were tempered, short, but he lost himself in the feeling of you around him: the warmth of your mouth, the soft ragged puffs of your breath, the spit that dripped from your lips. With the lovely wreck you made, and the way he felt you carefully take the rest of him in your hand to make sure no part was neglected, he found himself falling apart fairly soon.

“Darlin’,” he whined, glancing down at you through the now lightly fogged lenses of his glasses. “I can’t take this, I’m— I’m close, I have to—“

It was the way your eyes locked on his and the subtle shake of your head that finally sent him over. The sharp, clear gaze you gave him, the way you made it clear he was doing this your way. That this was something of his that you wanted for yourself.

He came with a shaky groan of your name, feeling the tiniest bit guilty he did so alone, but unwilling to deny how much he loved watching you as he did.

When you finally sat back, gasping, he sat up and immediately crushed his lips to yours like a man possessed, his hands gently cupping your face. He could taste just a trace of himself still on your tongue, and everything that just happened crashed over him at once, turning his kiss nearly feral.

Even through catching your breath, you giggled again at his eagerness, and he knew immediately he would fight a pissed-off alligator for you if it ever came to that. Two alligators. Possessed ones. There was nothing in the world he wouldn’t face for that sound.

“So you enjoyed yourself then,” you teased, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. “I’d hoped so.”

“You were divine,” he mumbled, leaning down to kiss your bare neck like a man called to worship. “I mean - I already thought so,” he added. “But that was…” He felt his brain go pleasantly blank again, distracted by whatever scent you were wearing on your skin.

You smiled under his praise, but there was the tiniest hint of relief in your eyes. “I’ve been wanting to do that for ages, to be honest.” You leaned forward, kissing the end of his nose as he blinked at you in surprise. “I knew you’d be hot when you weren’t totally together. Not that you’re not hot when you’re put together,” you continued, seeing his eyebrows begin to knit together. “I mean, I’ve been wanting you to rail me in those suits of yours for ages, obviously.” You waved a hand as if this were, in fact, obvious, despite Maxi having a very distinct hiccup of brain activity at the mere thought. “But you’re always so… poised, Maxi,” you said, your hands lovingly coming to rest on his now-bare chest. “I know you have to be, with everything that can go wrong with what you do,” you went on, and he had to keep his face neutral at just how close to the truth that came. “But I’ve been… curious,” you leaned forward, your lips an inch from his as you searched his eyes. “About what I’d see when you finally let go for me.”

Maxi watched you apprehensively as you reached up and ruffled the hair that sweat had undone. You fixated on it slowly sliding over one of his lenses, where it was naturally inclined to lay when he didn’t attack it with hair gel and a comb every day, and after a moment, you sat back with a smirk. “I have to say, baby, I really like it.”

You weren’t totally prepared for when he moved forward suddenly, capturing you in a kiss while flipping you beneath him. He delighted at the soft moan around his tongue in your mouth, only pulling back to hover over you when you were both absolutely out of breath. “If I wanted to make you come so hard you can’t think straight,” he whispered, dark eyes boring into yours. “What’s the best way I could do that right now?”

He watched the coquettish set of your face dissolve into a mixture of surprise from his phrasing and - what he was far more excited by - open, undeniable need. Your teeth grazed your lower lip hard, but he got the feeling that you weren’t having to think about it. No, this seemed more like you were hesitating.

“Try me,” he repeated, more insistant now. He kissed the corner of your mouth, then kissed you properly, coaxing you into something more heated. He lingered until he felt you relax a bit, opening up to him, before he pulled back just enough to speak. “I mean it, anythin’.”

Your guard was down, because he saw your eyes move briefly towards where his hips were resting against yours, your back arching very slightly to rock gently against his hipbone in search of any sort of contact. But they snapped back to his immediately, widening when you must’ve realized you’d given yourself away.

“You a hundred percent do not have to reciprocate,” you blurted, your words tripping off your tongue in your hurry. “Especially not, like, today,” you added with an apologetic wince. “Obviously. I’m not about to ask you to— well.“ You looked askance, embarrassed. “Not our, um. Our first… time, and all.”

Maxi snorted, smiling wryly. “Babydoll. C’mon, now.” He propped himself up on an elbow, cocking his head to look at you. “What, did you think I was gonna try to dodge that every month? Twiddle my thumbs ’til it was over?”

You met his eyes again, yours wide - and Maxi realized he’d tilted his hand, hinting at anything remotely close to a future together this soon. He opened his mouth to backtrack, kicking himself for being so presumptuous - when you looked off to the side again, giving a tiny shrug. “I didn’t want to assume or anything,” you said, smiling shyly. “Some people just aren’t into it.”

He managed to disguise a sigh of relief as a chuckle, realizing you weren’t automatically discouraging the idea of a… repeat engagement. Hell, that you didn’t even seem to be that put off by the thought of him sticking around. “Well. I appreciate your lookin’ out,” he said, tilting his head further to meet your eyes. “But trust me when I say there’s nothin’ about you I’m not into.”

You laughed, disbelieving, but there was a curiosity in your eyes that, when he saw it, he couldn’t look away from. “Define ‘into’ here, babe.”

Maxi sat up a little more, skimming your torso with a rakish glance. “Put it this way,” he drawled, leaning down to kiss just underneath the elastic of your top. “When you do what I do, there isn’t much about the human body you don’t learn to appreciate, in its own way.” He ran the broad swathe of his tongue down the curve of your stomach as he moved lower, causing you to inhale through your teeth and squirm slightly. He trapped your plush hips in his hands, fingers nimbly spreading and adjusting to hold you down against your mattress. His thumbs worked their way under the waist of the pretty sheer underwear you’d worn - for him, he thought with an eager twist of his insides - down over the skin, as though he were unveiling you. “There’s nothin’ I don’t find more beautiful than somethin’ alive just bein’ allowed to be itself.” He kissed your lower abdomen with parted lips, his teeth grazing lightly below your navel just to hear your gentle sound of surprise, to feel you try to move against his palms… and find you couldn’t break his grip. He couldn’t help but sneak a peek at your face, or help the grin that was just a touch too sharp when your eyes were already hazy and huge. “…And it’d be a sin,” he added quietly. “For you to feel like you had anythin’ to be shy about.” He held your gaze as he shifted his hands to your thighs, letting you watch as he pulled them a little wider, his fingers sinking into the plush flesh.

He waited for a response from you - the barest nod, given with only a short dazed lag - before he settled his torso between them, his thumbs tracing the velvet of your skin. He planted an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of each, just adjacent to your cunt, with all the slow measured movements of a ritual. He took the opportunity to adjust his grip again, his right hand shifting slightly upward to mitigate the jolt of your hips, his left staying anchored to your thigh as he continued to rub circles there.

He didn’t know what his eyes were doing when he looked at you a last time, but he could feel the Reaper poised just behind their sockets, unable to resist the proximity of something so vulnerable and precious. He didn’t bother to try to knock it back - it liked this too, too much to ruin it for both of them.

He’d let it watch, it didn’t matter.

Pleasing you would be something that would strictly fall to him. He’d make sure of that.

His eyes flicked downwards, seeing you were already visibly wet - something that sent another searing jolt through him - and there, as though a sign, the beginning bloom of red.

When he swiped his tongue brazenly up your slit, pushing into your folds, the moan you let go from your chest hit him at the same time as the unmistakable taste of blood.

He fell on you like a man starved, pulling your thighs even wider to spread you for him. He felt suddenly insatiable, taken in by your heat, the way you shivered on his tongue, and couldn’t help but cant your hips just slightly upwards to allow himself better access.

You made a sound of surprise that turned into a mewl, your thighs pushing slightly against the side of his face and his palm as though to keep him there, and he felt himself grin wickedly as he continued giving you exactly what he’d wanted to since that first encounter in the cemetery.

In the midst of the familiar human essence, the iron across his palate, there was something that left the vague impression of… sweetness. He chased it, lingering on your clit to lave the flat of his tongue there like a wave. He heard your moan twist into a whine, and he couldn’t resist the urge to echo it, his cheekbone scraping the inside of your thigh as he unashamedly lapped at your core. Your slick spreading across his mouth and further left him wanting, and as his hands clenched at your body with need, yours fell to his hair.

He couldn’t help the moan at the feeling of your nails against his scalp, the way he was sure you didn’t realize just how hard you were pulling. He had to fight to keep his eyes from rolling back as you tugged hard, your hips pushing against his mouth for more. He didn’t know which got him to start rutting lightly against your mattress, the little licks of pain or the way he was tempted to just let you grind against his jaw until you were done with him.

“F-fuck,” you groaned, your first actual word in a while, and it came from somewhere low in your chest. This was beyond the breathy noises of a first time, what people thought the other person wanted to hear or expected. There was a rawness as your groan became something strangled, your voice breaking, and when your heel very lightly came to rest on his back, his nails sank into your skin before he could stop himself.

“Fuck, Maxi, I’m—!” You punctuated that sentence with a keening cry as you came apart, and he held his tongue steady against your clit when your hips spasmed against his face. Your heel dug further into his back, and your hands knotted in his hair as evidence of your orgasm coated his tastebuds. He drove his own hips hard against your bed as you shuddered, already inescapably aware that he wouldn’t know peace again until he could have you making a mess on his cock too.

But this was more than enough, for now. He would’ve been happy to do this until the day he died - and then to be resurrected, at your whim, for this express eternal purpose. His name sounded so much more pleasant from your mouth, especially when you sounded on the verge of tears with sensation, your throbbing cunt indecisive as to whether it wanted more or if it couldn’t take anything else.

He only let up when he felt your fingers go slack in his hair, your foot hitting the mattress with a soft little thud. When he pushed himself up to catch his breath, you were gazing sightlessly at the ceiling, your eyes like a starless night as your own chest heaved.

The blood he could feel congealing around his mouth only exacerbated the sudden overwhelming urge he felt to cage you in his arms and never let you go again, to meet everything else that sought your attention with a murderous glare and hands that itched for cold steel.

“Mine,” the Reaper hissed in the back of his skull, and for once, he had found himself in total agreement.

- Fuck. This wasn’t working. If even open wounds weren’t enough to dull the heat he felt spreading through his veins, he didn’t know what would. “Christ, M’sorry,” he muttered sheepishly to the woman on his table, hastily throwing down the clay knife as it felt like his skin was going to combust inside his protective gear. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, I’ll fix everythin’, I swear I’ll make it up to you, I’m—“ He couldn’t even finish the sentence as he pulled the sheet over Mrs. Berthelot-Yang for her dignity’s sake, then bolted out the door of the prep room towards the door to the hearse’s loading bay.

A full-throated peal of laughter rang out as he left, echoing off the stainless steel on the walls.

He slammed through the exit door, barely noticing the pouring afternoon rain as he scrabbled free of his gloves first, ripping the black latex in the process, before yanking off the splash guard and tossing it over his shoulder and back inside. He was already panting as he ditched the mask underneath, then clawed off the protective coat over his dark scrubs and throwing it behind him as well. Only then did he let himself lean over to put his hands on his knees, letting the somehow still warm rain run through his hair and over his face as he tried to figure out how to deal with the throbbing ache that drove him to literal distraction. If work wouldn’t do it - especially a hard restoration like this one - he wasn’t left with a lot of options.

One tempted him in particular. One he’d been trying to avoid, to be honest. It wasn’t something he liked to do, and it was definitely something he wanted to get in the habit of doing whenever a… similar situation occurred.

But as evening loomed on the edges of the afternoon, he couldn’t see himself with a lot of other options.

If he wasn’t in such a state, he would’ve admitted to himself that it was probably troublesome how he could’ve made the drive to your house blindfolded by now. How it was probably even more troubling that there was starting to be a spot in the bushes in the empty lot just down the street from you where he hid the old Mustang. Or how he’d already had a change of clothes in the back seat for just such an occasion, and he stripped out of his wet scrubs with as little eye contact as possible with the smugly smirking figure of his uncle in the rearview mirror.

He followed the little not-path that was starting to form between the lot and the trees that encircled your house, carefully ducking as needed to avoid any sight lines to the neighbor’s place across the street, avoiding the thorn bushes he’d learned were there the hard way, and carefully stepping around what rodent warrens he’d come across -

And at last, ending up exactly outside your bedroom window.

Your light was on, but your curtains were closed. He checked his phone, scrolling to his last text message from you - before lunch, if he remembered correctly. Amidst a flurry of bad jokes and some random dancing skeleton .gifs, you’d told him you had been feeling kind of gross today, and were planning on taking it easy.

So you were definitely home, then.

He peered through the small crack he could find in your blackout curtains, scanning your room and finding it still charmingly messy, but blessedly empty. Your bedcovers were rumpled, but there was no sign of you.

He hadn’t seen any light from your front windows when he’d driven by, though - so you weren’t watching TV on your couch. But where were you, then, if not here?

Slowly, he cracked the window, listening to what sounds he could catch to see if he could tell: sure enough, he heard strains of music, loud, but distant - further in the house. So no headache then, he thought with a touch of cheer. Good, you always seemed so miserable when you had one of those. You were endlessly restless on your mattress when you were, like you could never get comfortable.

He took the faraway music as his cue to crack the window wide enough to slide in, bending over to fit through in as little space as possible. It was a careful step over the window seat (something he was rather envious of, if he was honest) to your carpeted bedroom floor, and he immediately removed his shoes, not wanting to track dirt around your room.

From there, he dropped into a crouch to hide behind the silhouette of your bed in the middle of the room, carefully lowering the window as he himself sank to the floor. Once he was sure it was secure, he fell over on his side and rolled in one motion under your bed -

And came to a stop right before he ran face-first into your box of clean bedsheets. Perfect, he noted, you hadn’t moved anything in the few days since he’d been by. He’d carefully arranged everything under your bed so he was concealed from view from the doorway, but gave him enough room to stretch comfortably and avoid a dreaded leg cramp. He even had enough room to stash his shoes down by his feet, safely out of sight and nowhere where they could leave a mess.

He curled into his familiar space, resting his head on the hoodie you’d left down here once the weather had turned warm. He wasn’t even sure if you’d noticed it gradually sliding off your bed - genuinely, without any manipulations on his part - but after multiple nights of being tossed about in your fitful slumber, it had finally hit the floor when you’d rolled over, and he’d snatched it up immediately to repurpose it for himself. It was an old lesson he’d learned early: never waste a good opportunity. Not only did it make lying here easier, it had the lovely bonus of smelling like your soap, too.

…But that scent was a little stronger than usual, if he wasn’t mistaken. He sniffed your hoodie again, confused - it wasn’t like you’d found it to wash it, recently. When that wasn’t it, he kept still, trying to figure out what was happening to create this change. Your room wasn’t a place that changed drastically, and definitely not under your bed, so anything that caught his notice was definitely worth assessing as a potential new hazard.

However, it took him all of a minute to realize the music he’d heard was coming from your bathroom - accompanied by the sound of water rushing through the pipes in your walls. You were just having a shower. Was it cramps, then? Heat might relieve those, or it could just be general exhaustion. Bodies were tricky things when they were alive - he’d just have to wait and see what was ailing you.

He took a moment in the stillness to pull his phone out of his pocket and turn off vibrations along with sound, putting it completely on mute. He couldn’t risk him responding to one of your texts giving him away - wouldn’t that just be awkward.

As he did so, he caught another layer of sound amidst the water and the music, and he froze in place instinctively, trying to identify it. It was a voice, but not unfamiliar - yours, he decided after a moment.

After another moment still, he realized you were singing.

His heart was fit to burst; he’d never heard you sing before. It wasn’t professional, by any means, but it was just so… adorable. Genuine. You were no songbird, but neither was he. And he would’ve listened to this for hours, just to hear you sound so happy and at peace.

The song itself was familiar too, although the instruments weren’t quite right - a cover, maybe? He scooted as close to the far side of your bed as he dared, trying to make out the lyrics through the wall and the water. You’d stopped singing, your part apparently ended, and the voice had changed:

“—Sing once again with me,

Our strange duet.”

Maxi sat bolt upright in his excitement - or tried to, before he smacked his forehead hard into your bed frame. He immediately lay back down, cursing himself quietly and touching the tender spot that he was sure was going to bruise. Pulling his fingertips away, he was grateful not to see any blood, at least. But he was definitely going to have to not slick his hair back for a little bit, lest he attract unwanted attention.

But you’d rather liked it when he did that, he remembered you saying so. He squirmed a little where he lay at the idea of your fingers running through his hair, playing with it, the ache in him only slightly assuaged by being so close to you (after being tempered somewhat by having to walk through the rain in the growing dark, on top of that).

But the song was definitely a Phantom cover - he was surprised it had taken him so long to place it, but he was willing to chalk it up to the water and the less-than-spectacular acoustics of being stuffed under your bed. But it had just gotten to Christine’s part again, and he could hear you trying to keep up as she swept into her grand finale. You were admittedly nowhere near the singer’s range, but it was obvious you were having fun. When her final note sounded, he could hear you laughing at your own attempt to match it that came out more of a squeak at the end, and he thought his heart would melt out his mouth and dribble all over your floor. He couldn’t believe he’d never thought to ask you if you liked the show, when he knew the two of you had discussed the book before. He was already reaching for his phone to google when the next tour would be in town when he heard the water shut off.

He froze even though you were still in the next room, listening hard. You’d turned the music down as well, the playlist having shuffled to something else - another singer he liked, he noticed with glee, making a note to ask you about it later - and he could still hear you faintly through the walls, singing at a much more subdued level to match the quieter melody.

He heard the clattering of your various skincare products as you moved around, before the music moved as well, leaking into the hall as you opened the door and stepped lightly back into your room. Only wearing a huge t-shirt and (he could barely glimpse them) a pair of underwear, you seemed to move on a cloud of steam and something sweet, the whole room filled with the scent of your favorite products now, and he relished just laying there and drinking it in.

He watched your bare feet as you walked around your room, your nails freshly painted your favorite color, and surmised you must have been trying to treat yourself to a spa day. You had said you’d been feeling less than your best, so this might have been your way of trying to take care of yourself. He had to resist the urge to check the date, make a note for next time - he knew he was weird, sure, but there were lines even he was willing to respect. He’d have to trust you to tell him if you wanted his assistance with… something like this. He could respect your discretion if not, your relationship with your body was your own.

But still. He’d at least make sure to have some extra of your favorite snacks in his kitchen. It wouldn’t stand out too much, he supposed.

At last, you fell over onto your bed, and he heard you sigh contentedly as you relaxed onto your mattress. He resisted the urge to echo it aloud, instead just stretching out as much as he could manage to pretend he was resting alongside you. This wasn’t perfect, but it was definitely better than trying to white-knuckle through things at the Mortuary alone. At least you were here. At least the overwhelming feeling of… everything, had subsided somewhat now that he was with you.

He heard something move from your nightstand, and a moment later, he saw an empty wine glass come into view as you set it on the floor. You stayed leaning off your mattress, opening the door to your nightstand, and he moved backwards as much as he dared, trying to make sure you wouldn’t happen to notice him if you happened to glance underneath your bed. But you seemed fixated on whatever was in the cabinet. He couldn’t help but be a little curious - he hadn’t gotten to see what you’d kept in there, before, and it wasn’t like he had the opportunity to ask when he was here last night.

With an impatient sigh, he heard you moving to the right side of your mattress, then settle your feet back onto the floor. A moment later, his heart - previously melted - resolidified and jumped into his throat as he saw your knees follow suit, and you kneel in front of the cabinet you were still digging through.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. There was no excuse for being under here, especially this early on, and double especially since you didn’t Know. He held his breath without realizing, pulling as slowly into himself as he could manage. It wasn’t like you had a direct line of sight under here, but it also wasn’t like you wouldn’t see him as soon as you bothered to look.

He had no one to pray to for this - the good ones wouldn’t dare grant his request, and the bad ones weren’t worth talking to. So he just held his breath and hoped, watching you rifle through a collection of —

Oh.

He watched you set what was very definitely a vibrator on your lap, then a second toy: long, made of dark silicone, it looked like. You picked up and held a couple similar ones of different sizes after that, clearly trying to decide something between them.

He knew he would’ve been scarlet if anyone could see him, the ache from earlier returning tenfold in an instant. So that’s what you kept in there. How… educational.

You were holding the dildo in your hands, and he felt one of his own slide up to cover his mouth, while the other slid… elsewhere. Your fingers were perfect, and once again, he found himself wishing you would touch him, as you had last night.

…In very different circumstances than right now, obviously. But still.

You were tracing the shaft with your thumb, humming thoughtfully to yourself. “Close enough,” you mumbled. “Or close as I’m going to get, anyway.” He heard you laugh to yourself, sounding a little embarrassed. “Yes, wonderful date conversation. ’Hi, Maxi, maybe-strange request, but can I just measure your dick for a sec? …Why? Oh, y’know, just wanted to commission something custom off the internet so I could fuck myself while thinking about you, even though we’ve only been going out for a month, no big deal.’ …God, I’m such a fucking weirdo,“ you muttered, sounding amused yet exasperated with yourself.

Maxi felt his fingers digging into his cheeks as his palm clamped hard over his mouth, barely cognizant of that possibly leaving yet another bruise. His brain felt like it was on fire, his sweats suddenly uncomfortably, impossibly tight. You… what? You what? You were doing what? Regularly enough that you wanted a what?

If he could’ve moved either of his hands, he would’ve pinched himself to make sure this was real, and not some pleasant fever dream from accidentally inhaling embalming chemicals. But one was firmly latched onto his face, determined not to give himself away and ruin this, while the other was already subconsciously desperately rubbing over his cock pressing against the front of his pants.

You pulled out a bottle of lube before you closed the cabinet, stepping back up onto your bed. He listened as you moved like a fox would track a rabbit, aware of every little slip of your skin against fabric, every slight motion of your legs -

Then the familiar sound of your gasp, soft and fluttering. Unexaggerated, wholly yours.

You writhed slightly on the mattress over him, and he could tell you were just warming yourself up. His face felt searing to the touch as he heard the growing sound of your wetness, you moaning quietly as you touched yourself, trying to relax.

Slowly, his left hand slipped under the waistband of his sweats, finding a slickness of his own already leaking from his sensitive tip. He bit down slightly on his right hand, determined not to make a sound as he spread it with a painful slowness over his shaft. As much as he dared, he tried to match the pattern of your movements, wishing it was him with you for real - as much as he was deathly curious about the version of him with you in your head.

He heard a quiet, choked sound from you not long at all after - a muffled moan, you biting your lip as you brought yourself to your first orgasm. You let out an unsteady exhale, and he heard you adjust, reaching for something you’d set down on the other side of your bed.

He had to hold his left hand still as he heard the pop of the plastic cap on the lube, the further hushed sounds of you spreading it along the proxy shaft, before finally you fell back again with a soft ‘thud’.

“Okay,” you murmured quietly to yourself. “Let’s see if I can manage not to totally embarrass myself with another person.”

Maxi was all too aware of his physical body being anchored to the floor as he resisted the urge to climb onto your mattress and kiss those fears away. He could never find you wanting, not in a million years, he could prove it to you right now if you just knew he was there, if it wouldn’t scare you—

But behind his eye sockets, he was aware of something looming, a dark near-arrogance that he couldn’t totally separate from himself. You thought you couldn’t take him. That you might struggle, be shy and flustered if you couldn’t manage it one one go.

The Reaper wanted to see you try, to see the embarrassed tears that might result if you couldn’t, to feel you try to push him back out again because you just couldn’t keep him there.

The part of his brain that was still wholly his wanted to soothe any such tears, reassure you with coos and murmurs about just how good you were, how well you were doing. But there was the tiniest part of him that wanted to lick those tears away, not kiss them, and savor them instead.

His train of thought was entirely interrupted by your sudden gasp, and your quiet groan. “Fuck,” you whimpered, and he could hear you writhing slightly, your feet sliding as you struggled to get comfortable. “Fuck, okay. Okay, it’s fine, I just need…” He heard your head hit the pillow with a sigh, and he felt like his body was one exposed wire.

He couldn’t help but squeeze just a little as he heard you panting softly, making a small, muffled noise as he heard you try to take the toy deeper, accompanied by the occasional slick sound of something moving in you. He felt his cock twitch in his hand at the noise, wishing desperately he could be letting you adjust around him instead.

A breathy whisper of his name sang across his nerves like a bow over strings, followed by a quiet resulting mewl. “I’m trying,” you whispered to the imaginary version of him with you, your voice sounding a little frayed and overwhelmed. “You’re just… a lot.”

Christ, you really were going to kill him. Carefully, painstakingly, he timed the movements of his hand over his cock to what he could make out of yours - his hand hoping to even fractionally capture the way you would squeeze around him, the achingly slow pace of pushing into you and pulling out again, trying to offer you some relief while still trying to satisfy the gnaw of need he could feel building at the base of his spine.

“I can,” you murmured to him and not-him, your voice shaking a little. “I can, I promise, just… I need a minute.” He heard a groan muffled by you biting your lip, trying to push the toy further. “There’s just so much of you, Maxi.”

He bit his own lip so hard it could bleed, trying his damnedest not to react to that out loud. You thought he was a lot. You’d seen him - you’d had him in your mouth, for christ’s sake - so it’s not like you were exaggerating, but still. You were already anticipating not only fucking him, but wanting to take him fully, and in that moment he thought his own anticipation might burn through his skin from the inside out. He wanted to be in you, for real, now.

Then he heard a soft cry, followed by another thud of your head against your pillow, the scrabbling of your feet as your back arched. “There,” you moaned, and his eyes threatened to roll back in his skull yet again. “See? I- oh, fuck, I told you I could.”

And then, slowly, he heard you starting to fuck yourself on it.

He bit fully down onto his own palm, matching your pace now, hoping your own slick sounds and now-desperate whines would cover the sounds of him trying to jerk himself off as quietly as possible. He wanted to be on you, his chest pressed against yours, feeling your sweat and your heart racing under your bones and your warm panting on his neck as he fucked you properly, gave you everything you were begging for just a foot away. He wanted to pin you down and fuck you until you forgot your own name, until he only knew his own from the way it fell off your lips and onto his. He felt your pace pick up in his own grip as you got closer, and the way his whole body tightened, he desperately wanted to fill you with his own release, to feel it slide down your thighs as he stubbornly fucked it back into you, not for anything to take but just to know that you wanted him inside you.

“Please, please, Maxi, don’t stop,” you whined above him, and he tasted his own blood as his teeth finally split the skin of his hand. He wished it was your neck, your shoulder, those wicked little lips of yours - he’d kiss it better in a second, he’d apologize immediately for marking your precious skin, but he was so hungry to feel you with him, for real, that he longed for even the warmth of your wounds on his lips.

Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore of this, the closest thing to heaven and hell at the same time, he heard you come with a last cracked moan of his name. He shattered immediately, spilling his own load from a day of obsessing over and repressing the memories of you inside his clothes, and utterly ruining them in the process. He flushed even more furiously, the heat spreading down to his chest from both the ecstasy of relief at last, and embarrassment for coming in his pants like a freshman. He fucked into his hand as he heard you coming down until he went fully soft, bordering on the ache of overstimulation but trying to satisfy the gaping hole that came from not actually being able to pull you against him, to descend together in each other’s tangled, sweaty limbs.

For a moment, the two of you just lay there in silence - you still panting softly, him still biting into the flesh of his hand, not trusting himself not to moan the minute he pulled it away. He wanted to kiss you, to tell you that you were perfect, that you took him like you were made for him - or that you would, when the time was right, he was sure of it. But not until you were feeling better, not until you wanted to, until you chose.

“…Holy fuck,” you mumbled above him, sounding somewhat hazy, and he instead had to fight his usual giggle-snort. How were you this cute, he wondered, it wasn’t even fair.

He heard you shift slowly, reaching for something else on your nightstand - he winced as he caught himself secretly hoping it wasn’t the lube again. After a day of agony, he wasn’t sure he could go another round as enthusiastically as you.

But instead, he heard a soft, familiar tapping. In his scattered haze, it took him a minute to place it — until he saw your arm dangling over the side of your mattress, your phone still clutched in your hand as you waited for a text to send.

He caught his name on the screen before you pulled it up again, and hurriedly, he rummaged in his pocket to pull out his own just as the notification of a new message appeared.

<[Thinking of you, handsome <3 Hope work isn’t giving you too much trouble today?]

You wicked little minx. Maxi slowly released his palm from his teeth, bringing up his second hand to write back.

[Aw, miss you pretty. <3 Work’s been… work haha. Feeling better?]>

That was as close as he could think to summarizing the situation, anyway. And he was reasonably sure ‘hey look down here :)’ wouldn’t be very well received, even if he was starting to become aware of your own more… interesting tendencies. He glanced up at the bottom of your mattress as he waited for his own message to send, pondering this. He knew the two of you were still in the early stages, but he was now deeply curious what other strange urges you were hiding in that sweet little head of yours. Besides apparently liking his dick enough to want a memento of your own - something that, if he wasn’t already still flushed, would’ve made him do so all over again as he thought about it.

He heard your phone buzz, and his heart lept at your quiet little excited noise as you rolled over on your mattress. He was half-tempted to peek and see if you were kicking your feet in the air, for as much as you made him want to do the same, but he kept himself out of sight.

A second of fast typing later, your response appeared:

<[So much better omg. Sorry about work though :/ Do you maybe want to hang out tomorrow? We could watch a bad movie and drink about it.]

‘Yes,’ Maxi sent immediately. He winced at his own eagerness, then quickly added:

[Whenever works for you, if you feel up to it! No pressure if you start feeling bad again.]>

He heard you roll back over onto your back, giggling to yourself. He restrained himself from sighing in relief. At least you thought he was cute, and not desperate.

Another response popped up on his screen:

<[Oh I’m definitely better, no worries. <3 My place, maybe seven-ish if that’s okay?]

And then, as he was typing a confirmation, another:

<[And don’t sweat needing to drive home or anything btw. I have a spare toothbrush and stuff lol. ;)]

Maxi resisted the urge to punch the air, both because it would send his fist straight into your box spring, and because he was far too old to be doing that and not feeling ridiculous about it. But he definitely wanted to, in the moment.

[Haha sure. I’ll see you then angel <3]>

You wouldn’t need to know he was seeing you before.

Or at least, he would tell you later. Much later.

(as always, if you read this far, you’re a saint and I love you! <3)

#SFBF #Blood Fest #Blood Fest 2022 #maxi morvant #maximilian vincent morvant #maxi morvant x reader #maxi morvant x you #slasher oc #slasher oc x reader #necromancer oc #plus size reader #non-binary reader #genderqueer reader #morvant mortuary #monsterkisser fics #mdni

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flower-gothic · 2 years

Text

walk among us (eddie munson x fem!reader)

summary: it's been seven months since you lost Eddie in the upside-down. tonight is halloween, his favorite holiday, and it seems that your past has come back to haunt you...

cw: mentions of death, very slight mentions of gore/injuries, angst, supernatural shit?? idk

a/n: wow, I've been writing like crazy lately! as usual, I'm so so appreciative to everyone who's been giving my little fics some love. this one came to me after rewatching the Halloween episodes of AHS: Murder House and the concept is based off of that. love you all and please enjoy!!

You used to love Halloween. The entire month of October was often spent celebrating the holiday, chock-full of horror movies and haunted houses and pumpkin-flavored treats. You reveled in the ritual of designing your costume each year, never deterred by the judgments of those who thought it childish. You even loved the excuse to gorge yourself on fun-sized candies.

The keyword, however, was used to. Because Halloween was also Eddie’s favorite time of year; it had been before he left, anyway. You still struggled with the d-word that most accurately described his current and eternal state.

Eddie adored Halloween as much as you, if not more. He often coordinated a costume with you and pulled out his Misfits cassettes for the entire month to set the spooky tone of the season. With the most wickedly ravenous sweet tooth you’d ever seen on a human, Eddie consumed even more Halloween candy than you. You found it endearing when, each year, he groaned to you about the bellyache that ensued, making you promise not to let him eat so much candy next time, but Eddie never learned that lesson.

It had been seven months, now, since that fateful day in the upside-down. It had been seven months since the hordes of demobats tore the love of your life to shreds, leaving behind only a broken and bloodied shell. You still had nightmares about his final words, the blood dripping from his mouth as you and Dustin held his fading body in your laps. And in the end, what hurt the most was that you simply had to leave him there: your sweet, vibrant Eddie lying lifelessly in the cold and merciless expanse of the upside-down for the rest of time, all because he had to be the hero.

There was a part of you, however ashamed you were of it, that was angry with him for sacrificing himself. Did he ever think of what this would do to you? You felt selfish for it; Eddie had died for something greater than your relationship. But sometimes, when you cried yourself to sleep at night, you wondered if anything was truly greater than the love you had for the scruffy metalhead.

You had survived and mourned for seven months, and though the waves of paralyzing grief hit you more and more seldom, October 31st washed over you like a tsunami. You didn’t decorate your home, you didn’t make a costume, and you didn’t bake any of the pumpkin-flavored treats Eddie used to love so much. Instead, you made an excuse to all of your friends and holed up by yourself in your dark bedroom. Rather than a costume, you had draped your body in one of Eddie’s Hellfire t-shirts; rather than attend a party, you had rented Evil Dead 2 and picked through a big bowl filled with Milky Ways, Eddie’s favorite movie and candy. You knew this was irrational, and you tried to go about your life as normally as possible, but on a night like this, it was all you could do not to fall apart.

You had gotten about halfway through the cheesy movie that Eddie had so adored when you heard a faint rapping at your window. This caused you to jump: no one ever climbed to your second-story window. No one except Eddie.

It was a pretty sick prank for one of your friends to do this, especially on Halloween night. Anger bubbled up inside you as you prepared some choice words for whoever was on the other side of the glass. Nothing could have prepared you for who you saw peering through your window, though.

It was Eddie’s curious face looking back at you when you got there.

You let out a bloodcurdling shriek when you saw him, backing away from the window so quickly that you tripped over your bed. This was impossible; you had been there in Eddie’s final moments–had held him in your arms as he took his final breaths.

You were too terrified to look again, afraid that you were losing your mind, but afraid, as well, that it really was him. You were still cycling through these thoughts when you heard his muffled voice from outside the window: “Y/N, couldja let me in? It’s freezing out here,” you heard him say.

That voice belonged to Eddie, it was unmistakable. You heard it in your dreams most nights, and in your nightmares, too. It never left you. On shaking legs, you stumbled back over to the window and looked into the face that belonged to your late boyfriend.

“Stop starin’ and let me in already! I swear I’ll explain everything,” Eddie pleaded.

Before you could think, you were unlocking the window and weakly pulling it open. Eddie hopped through the same way he always did–shockingly graceful for his tall, lanky form. His smile was exactly the same. You were hypnotized by it until he spoke again. “Hi, pretty girl. I know this seems in-fucking-sane, but I promise I’ll explain. Oh, one other thing: don’t look down,” he instructed.

It was only a reflex that your eyes drifted downward at his statement. They landed on his torso. Eddie’s shirt was bloodstained and ripped open, revealing torn flesh in many places. “Oh, fuck!” you gasped. A wave of nausea overcame you and you found yourself sprinting to the bathroom at the sight which had haunted you for months.

As you retched into the toilet, footsteps approached. “Well, I told you not to look,” Eddie said in grim amusement. You felt his strong hands pulling your hair from your face; it made you shudder. When you had finished, you turned slowly toward him.

“How are you here? How is this possible? I…I watched you die,” you said weakly. Part of you still didn’t believe it was real. It must be a prank, something Dustin or Steve conjured up. That thought was discarded quickly; your friends would never dare be so heartless.

Eddie nodded and sank down next to you on the bathroom floor. You were careful to look only at his face this time. “Funny story,” he began with a sigh. “After I, well, died, everything went dark for a while. But then, it was like I just…woke up. Part of me thought I was alive and I recovered, that you guys had forgotten me down there, but when I realized I couldn’t move beyond my trailer and the area around it, I knew it meant something else.”

“It meant what?” you asked. Everything that had already transpired seemed so crazy that you felt you would believe anything Eddie told you.

“Well, I know this is hard to believe, but…I’m a ghost, Y/N.”

You swallowed thickly. “But how could you be a ghost? I felt you touch me a few minutes ago,” you said.

Eddie shrugged. “Y’know how I used to read a lot, right? I read some lore and some occult shit, back then, instead of reading the things I was supposed to for school. It was still gonna be my year though, dammit, if I’d only been alive to graduate.” He laughed sadly. “Anyway, I’ve read about this. In some lore, it says that ghosts are tethered to the places they died in every day of the year except one: Halloween. On October 31st each year, the dead are free to walk the earth. And apparently it’s true,” he explained.

You nodded as you processed his words. “So along with being able to be free, you regain a physical form?” you asked.

He nodded in return. “That’s right. I’m as good as human, baby. For tonight, anyway.” He grinned his signature Eddie grin at you and your heart nearly burst from the ache of how much you’d missed it.

“So can I…can I hug you?” you asked cautiously.

“I’d love nothing more. I’ve dreamt of holding you again ever since the last time I saw you,” Eddie confessed. He spread his arms open for you.

Your eyes couldn’t help but gravitate to the open wounds that still littered his chest and torso, but the thought of being safe and warm in Eddie’s arms again won out over the reluctance you felt. You came to him slowly, wrapped your arms around him cautiously, as though he might break, but Eddie’s embrace was as strong and all-consuming as it always had been. It felt like coming home.

The reluctance and the fear and the surrealness of it all no longer mattered, all that mattered was that very moment when the boy you had loved and fought for and stood beside so many times was finally able to hold you again.

You pressed your face into Eddie’s chest and the tears began to fall: tears of happiness, tears of grief, tears of anger. “Why did you do it, Eddie? Why’d you have to go and be the hero and die because of it? Didn’t you ever think of what it would do to me, to lose you?” you sobbed into him.

His arm ran soothingly up and down your back. “I know, sweet girl. I’m so, so sorry. In my dying breaths and every moment since then I’ve thought of you. The pain of being mauled by bats is nothing to the pain of losing you,” he said softly.

“I wish you could take it back. Just take it back, Eddie, take it back and stay here with me,” you pleaded through your tears.

He was quiet for a brief moment. “I can’t take it back, though. And I don’t regret it. Saving you, saving our friends, was the most important thing I could ever do.”

You looked up at him then, and the sobs racked your body even more violently. “How the fuck can you say that? I’m a mess without you.” Your face contorted into a tearful scowl as you landed a soft punch to the middle of Eddie’s chest before collapsing back into him.

His arms around you grew tighter. “I know, doll, I know. Let it out. You have every right to be furious with me. I don’t blame you for feeling this way. I’m angry with myself all the time,” he said.

You didn’t say anything more for quite a while; instead, you simply let Eddie hold you as you wept against him. Eventually, your eyes dried out and the tears subsided. Your face was red and puffy when you finally looked up at Eddie again. He tucked a strand of hair, now damp and sticky, behind your ear. You sniffled wetly.

“Oh, my poor, pretty girl. Let’s get you into bed,” he said gently. Eddie picked you up with ease, the same way he always had.

“Doesn’t it hurt? Walking around and even picking me up with all your…wounds?” you asked.

Eddie smiled fondly as he set you down on the bed. “No, not usually. Only sometimes, when I have these sort of… episodes, I guess you could call them. The pain gets me then.” He seemed to shudder at the thought.

“So, what’s it like? Being down there all the time, I mean. And being a ghost.”

Eddie’s face became grim at your question. “It’s so lonely. I don’t have much to pass the time with, save for my guitar. Things are scary there, too. Lots of weird creatures and shit. But I know they can’t do anything to me. I’m dead already, after all.” He laughed a hollow laugh. The sound caused you to grimace.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie. I-I wish I could visit you, but….” you trailed off. Nothing about returning to the upside-down was safe or logical, despite the way you yearned to cure Eddie’s sentence to eternity there.

He shook his head. “I don’t want you to think like that. It wouldn’t be safe, and I could never forgive myself if you ended up down there for all eternity with me, no matter how much the selfish part of me wishes I could have you,” he said. Then, with a thoughtful pause, he asked, “Y/N? If you aren’t too upset by my being here, could I, maybe…stay? Until I have to go when the sun comes up, I mean.”

You smiled sadly at him and nodded. “Please, please stay, Eds.”

As you cuddled back under your covers and held them open for him, Eddie turned to the paused movie on your tv. “Baby, this one’s my favorite!” His eyes lit up in childlike excitement that wrenched your heart.

“I know it is. Look what else I have. Not sure if you can eat, but…” You gestured to the large bowl of fun-size Milky Way bars at the end of the bed and his eyes grew wide.

“My favorite,” he breathed. “I don’t know if I can eat, but fuck if I’m not gonna try. I haven’t eaten in seven months.” Eddie grabbed a handful of the candies and found, to his delight, that he could eat them.

The two of you laid in bed exactly the way you once had: horror movie on the tv, Eddie’s arm around you, and his chocolate-flavored lips on yours. You hadn’t been able to resist the urge to kiss your boyfriend after so many months apart; you did everything you could to resist the heat that coiled in your belly.

Much later, as you felt yourself getting sleepy and comfortable with Eddie back by your side, he spoke again. “I wish I could be here like this all the time. It’s so warm and cozy here. The upside-down is so…cold. I’m cold all the time, Y/N,” he told you sadly, and your heart broke.

“I’d keep you here for the rest of time if I could, Eds.” He held onto you a little tighter.

Though you did all that you could to fight sleep and savor the time you had with Eddie, the warm embrace of sleep was too tempting. This night had exhausted you as much as it had overjoyed you, and the familiar smell and feel and sound of Eddie nearby gently lulled you into unconsciousness.

When, through the haze of sleep, you heard that familiar voice say, “Goodnight, princess. I’ll see you next year,” you couldn’t tell if it was real or only a dream.

When your eyes cracked open to find the light of day, Eddie was no longer there. You looked around for him in a slight panic, and briefly, you wondered if it had all been a dream. There was no trace of his warmth in your bed; the scent of him was long-gone. But when you found a mess of Milky-Way wrappers arranged in the shape of a heart on your desk, you knew for certain that your Eddie had really been there–this was no dream.

Until next Halloween.

#I gotta be honest I wanted this to have a happy ish ending #so I resisted the urge to write an epilogue type thing where Eddie returns to reader's window next halloween #and she's in her room with her new boyfriend #and Eddie just watches them for a moment before leaving her in peace #but maybe reader moving on was what would let him be finally put to rest #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things

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phanfictioncatalogue · 5 months

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Fics With Titles That Start With K (3) Masterlist

part one, part two

kamikaze (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: For most pirates, the Isle of Riches would sound very appealing. Not for Dan, who got too close to it and witnessed its secrets. Months later, he gets himself taken prisoner aboard Phil’s ship. He’s obnoxious, flirty, and generally a pain in the ass to all on board. But when he gets injured and is forced to let his guard down, Phil finds that Dan isn’t all that he makes himself out to be.

keep quiet (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: This feels indulgent in a way he hasn’t felt in a while. He’s tired after a night of being social, tallying up points and arguing with Phil and their friends about which countries had the best Eurovision songs, booing and complaining when their favorite didn’t win. And he’s sweaty from sleeping in close quarters. But he can’t bring himself to stop the building arousal between them.

keep the glasses on (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: Dan has always been insecure about wearing his glasses in public, and he's kept it from his best friend for as long as he's had his glasses. Unfortunately one evening, his cover is blown when Phil stops by.

keep your feet on the ground (when your head's in the clouds) (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan meets Phil at a party, except he doesn't really know that it's Phil.

Kentucky Roads (ao3) - howellesterfics

Summary: a very late smutty tour bus fic that i started in august and totally forgot about. it’s 3 am and dan is unreasonably turned on. featuring some light sexting

Kickstart My Heart (ao3) - phantasticworks (steddieworks)

Summary: Phil is having the worst flight of his life until he isn't.

Based on something Phil said in his recent liveshow.

kill dil (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: “Should we kill Dil?” (A fic about YouTube and planning and making decisions.)

Kind Of Similar (ao3) - cafephan

Summary: It’s kind of like 2009, they are apart again and spending hours staring through cameras at each other - just that Skype is as dead as the fringes and Dan is touring the world - but apart from that, practically identical.

Kindness (at the End) (ao3) - lovestillaround

Summary: A story about the Christmas Eve, a wooden chest left by Phil on the kitchen table, and a mission to get the key.

Kings - crescendohowell

Summary: Dan and Phil jokingly nominate each other for homecoming King and the entire school ships it

King of Fools - silverluminosity

Summary: Dan and Phil’s April Fools’ pranks go a little too far and cause them to venture into some previously unexplored territory.

king of packed lunches (ao3) - watergator

Summary: phil wants to be a TikTok Mom™

kinky week (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: It's like spooky week, but instead of videos and scary games I'm just writing five really* kinky things.

Kintsukuroi (ao3) - Silent_kill_joy

Summary: That's the most beautiful thing in the world:

When two people become fluent in choosing each other...

-Hb

Kiss It Better (ao3) - intoapuddle

Summary: Dan could keep doing this for hours, if it didn’t tire him out. Maybe even then, he could, because there’s something about hearing and feeling this lustfulness from Phil that makes it easy to let go of everything else.

kiss me in the dark tonight (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan's selling merch for a local dj and crushing on the dj's brother

kiss me just to kiss me (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: Phil knows it’s serious. He knows he’s serious about Dan in that way he gets about people because he is so painfully afraid of messing things up. Dan came all this way just to see him, but he didn’t come all this way just to see him, and the least Phil can do is show him a good time.

Kiss-Me-Quick (ao3) - strawberrysunflower

Summary: “I should be lounging out on a beach right now.”

“You can lounge out on a beach! Look, the Golden Mile’s down there. Only watch out for donkeys. And stray Stella cans.”

It’s probably not the greatest advertisement of the town, Phil realises. Who needs Portugal when you can come to Costa Del Blackpool instead?

kissing on the kitchen floor, our friendship up against the ropes (ao3) - glasseslouis

Summary: it's 2009, dan still can't fully comprehend that he's sat in phil's bedroom filming pinof, and they decide to indulge themselves.

kitchen counter (ao3) - ordanary (ghostsofjersey)

Summary: Phil asks Dan to come up north with him for Christmas, some realizations are made in the kitchen, and now Nigel owes Kath twenty pounds.

Kitchen Tiles (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: He regrets not realizing sooner, he regrets not listening to his heart more closely, he regrets not picking up on a single one of the countless little but painstakingly clear signs, regrets not being honest with himself until now. But it’s of no use, because it is what it is, and all they have now is a few weeks. After all the months and years, now all they have is weeks.

Knew I'd Find You Again (ao3) - AnironSidh

Summary: In the twilight of the Russian Empire, the younger son of Czar Nigel Lestov finds an unlikely friend in a kitchen boy with a very different past. Philip Lestov has no idea what is to come, this future with his new friend stretching out as far as he can see, and Daniel Howlov gets a glimpse at a world so far from his own.

know what you want (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan is home, for now at least.

Koi No Yokan (ao3) - cold_cereal

Summary: Phil proposes to Dan.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfic #phan #phanfiction #masterlists #ficsk #ficsk masterlist

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nebulousneuroticism · 9 months

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I guess I did get a little energy from vacation, because I was able to get up on time today and do some chores in between work tasks. I did the laundry, including bedsheets, which is always exhausting, and I did a big grocery shopping trip, too. Work was pretty quiet, and I was somewhat unproductive, but it wasn't entirely my fault.

In the evening, I couldn't really decide what to do. There were too many possibilities, and I felt torn between them. In the end, I returned to some things I was doing before my trip--watching television and playing Rimworld. It was pleasant enough, but I feel like I need to clear my head and do some productive things. I want to write (either a story or my D&D adventure), and I want to read (I started Les Miserables on vacation, and it's a very large book so I can't afford to go too slowly), and I want to play Trails of Cold Steel 2 (which I also started on vacation), and I want to find something spooky to watch for halloween (but not too spooky), and, and, and... So my mind was too jumbled up to really do anything.

A couple of things happened tonight that made me feel bad about myself, too. First, that cute girl has been depressed lately, and she tried to call me but I missed the call. I really dislike talking on the phone, so I keep my phone on silent. (Plus, though I would never admit this to her, talking to her on the phone is not a great experience--she simply does not have conversational boundaries and will monologue for literal hours, leaving me feeling trapped). She knows I hate phone calls, and she usually respects my preference, but I know it bothers her a lot. So I felt guilty about missing the call, but also filled with anxiety at the thought of having a conversation, especially because all I want right now is solitude.

The second thing that made me feel bad tonight was weighing myself--it seems I gained quite a bit of weight on vacation. I've been feeling kind of bad about the upward trend for a few months now, and this was a step in the wrong direction. I don't really like how I look, and I worry that munching on food is becoming an emotional crutch of sorts, which is not a healthy habit to have.

In other words, I am filled with angst. I'm sure you have missed this angst, dear reader, but I am here to provide.

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smileygoth · 1 year

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The Outlaw Torn - Part 3 (Stranger Things)

Yes I know I owe you other stories but this one just popped into my head and I had to write it! So here's some more Evil (?) Vampire Eddie shenanigans - slightly longer than expected, so I hope you like it!

Find Parts 1 and 2 here!

CW: All the usual vampire stuff, plus some bullying, violence, police brutality.

Word Count: 5,214 words.

Image by Saturn on Pinterest. Isn't it fantastic?! I love the eyes!!!

The last few weeks had been … weird. With all the destruction in Hawkins and the school temporarily out of commission, all the kids had been kind of left to their own devices. Naturally, some of them were treating it like an extra vacation, which meant house parties. But, with so many families deciding to just pack up and leave Hawkins, the parties felt a little empty. Which meant that even the outcasts and weirdos like Debbie Morris were getting dragged along, just to make them feel more full. Tonight, sitting in Andy Johnson’s house watching him, Chance and the rest of what was left of the basketball team getting drunk and mourning Jason and Patrick, while the other guests hovered in the kitchen or at the edges of the lounge, Debbie didn’t feel like it was working. The music was loud, the drinks were plenty and everyone was smiling, but it didn’t feel right. It felt … forced. Like they were all waiting for something to happen.

Nicky – the only person there who Debbie could call a friend – bumped her with her shoulder. “Cheer up, spooky bitch,” she said affectionately. “It’s supposed to be a party, remember?”

Debbie gave her a weak smile. “I know,” she replied. “And I appreciate you inviting me, but you really didn’t have to, you know.” She looked around at the other girls. The room was a sea of teased blonde hair, pastel and neon colours and candy-coloured lip gloss. Debbie, with her dark hair and clothes, was like none of them. Only her friendship with Nicky saved her from bullying, though it didn’t stop the chilly distance that all the popular kids greeted her with. She wasn’t one of them, and they all knew it. Not did she want to be … but Nicky did, so she had to play nice for her sake.

She glanced longingly out of the front windows. Normally she’d just go sit outside for a bit when she was feeling like this, but the storm that had broken about half an hour ago showed no signs of stopping. The rain ran in thick rivulets down the windowpanes, and now and then a bright flash of lightning would sear her eyes. She could barely hear or feel the thunder behind the music pumping from the stereo speakers, though. It gave the impression of the storm outside the windows being somehow in another world.

She shook her head, chiding herself gently. Ideas like that are why everyone thinks you’re weird. Looking up, she turned back to the party, trying to pay attention and feel involved.

The basketball players were still clustered together on one of the sofas. One of them – Chase – was staring out of the front windows. As she watched, he leaned forward, squinting, and pointed. The music dipped for a moment, and she heard him say: “Holy shit. Is that Eddie Munson?”

Immediately the other boys all looked round, some of them jumping up to go up to the window. Chase was nodding. “Yeah, it is. Son of a bitch, I thought he was dead!”

Andy’s face drained of colour, except for two hectic spots of red high on his cheeks. “He will be,” he said darkly. “Murdering son of a bitch. Come on guys, let’s get the asshole. For Jason!”

The team leaped up as one, hooting and echoing “For Jason!” Andy – apparently taking on the role of leader in Jason’s absence - ripped open the front door, letting in a gust of cold wind and rain, and they all piled out, one or two holding beer bottles in their hands.

Debbie felt a chill run down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold. Eddie Munson, well known in school as one of the freaks – possibly the freak, according to some – was rumoured to be dangerous, crazy, a junkie and, more recently, a satanist and murderer. But all she’d ever seen of him was an enthusiastic goofball when he was with his friends, and a quiet, reserved but polite guy when he was alone. He’d never spoken more than two words to her, but he always gave her a little smile when they passed in the halls – nothing more than a passing greeting, but enough to make Debbie’s heart warm to him. His softly genial smiles had more warmth in them than any of the fake, reluctant smiles that Nicky’s friends ever gave her. Maybe that was a dumb reason to not believe that he was a killer, but nonetheless, she just couldn’t find it in her to believe the rumours. In her heart she just felt he wasn’t what they all said he was. So now, seeing the team run out to presumably lynch him, she felt a stab of panic. She didn’t want to see this happen. But what could she do to stop it?

Nicky leaned over to her, shouting over the music. “Did they say Eddie Munson? He’s alive?”

Debbie nodded and stood up. “We have to stop them. They’re gonna kill him.”

Nicky frowned. “So?”

“For fuck’s sake, Nicky, just … call the cops!” Sparing a scornful glance at her friend, Debbie ran out the still open door after the boys. Outside the music was muffled by the walls and the rain, but the wind, blowing into her face, carried the words from the group ahead of her clearly.

The boys in their sports jackets were stood in a tight circle around the leather-clad figure who stood in their midst. The boys were getting wetter by the second in the pouring rain, but Eddie was already soaked. His long curly hair clung to his cheeks and forehead. The streetlights painted his face with harsh shadows, making him look gaunt and haggard, and somehow fierce. His dark eyes seemed to glow. And for some reason, his Hellfire t-shirt was ripped and stained with something dark.

“You’ve got some nerve showing up again, freak,” Andy was shouting. “You think you can just wander around Hawkins after what you did? You think we’ve forgotten? You should have stayed dead!”

Eddie gave a strange smile at that. “Is that so?” he replied, stepping forward to square up to Andy. “And what are you douchebags gonna do about it?”

Despite Andy being much bigger and taller than Eddie, the ferocity in Eddie’s gaze made him take a step back. Quickly recovering himself, he stepped forward again, right into Eddie’s face. “We’re gonna do what’s right,” he said. “We’re gonna take you in, Munson. Unless you want to try to stop us? Please …” He grinned savagely. “Please, try and stop us.”

Eddie gave a languid shrug. “Seems like I don’t have much of a choice,” he replied, then suddenly swung his arm and punched Andy in the face.

Debbie let out a squeak of surprise as Andy dropped like a stone. The other boys let out a yell in unison and piled on top of Eddie, who disappeared under a flurry of fists and kicking feet. Recovering quickly, Andy wiped blood from his nose as he climbed to his feet and dived in with them, screaming curses and insults.

Debbie’s feet moved her without thinking. She ran forward and started dragging the boys away from Eddie, yelling and screaming at them to stop, to leave him alone. It did no good. Time and time again they shook her off, shoved her away, and went right back to beating on the prone form beneath them. Eddie had curled up in a foetal position, taking the kicks and punches on his back, arms and legs. Debbie only caught glimpses of him as she kept pulling and punching at the backs and arms of the boys attacking him. It was like they were in a frenzy, unable and unwilling to stop, slipping on the wet grass and mud, slick with rain, wild-eyed and keyed up on booze and pent-up anger. Debbie slipped and stumbled with them, trying in vain to make them stop.

A crowd had gathered in the doorway of the house, more faces peering out through the front windows. Debbie was vaguely aware of Nicky calling her, telling her come back inside. She ignored her. Mixed in with her fear for Eddie was a seething resentment at Nicky for even suggesting that they just let Andy and his cronies go out and kill Eddie. Like that was okay, no matter what they thought he’d done. She’d never considered Nicky to really be like all the vapid, thoughtless girls she chose as her friends, but after that she wondered. She was disappointed. Nicky used to be smart, interesting, brave. She used to be Nicola. Now she was just like everyone else.

However tonight ends, Debbie thought as she yanked ineffectually on Chase’s arm, I’m done with Nicky.

Then there was a shrill wail of a siren, the night lit up in flashes of blue light, and the faces at the windows and door disappeared. The team kept pummelling Eddie, though, as if they hadn’t even noticed. Frantically, Debbie turned and ran to the police car as it pulled to a stop at the kerb, coming face to face with Officer Callahan as he jumped out of the passenger side of the car. “Stop them, please!” she cried. “They’re gonna kill him!”

Without a word, Callahan pushed her aside and ran into the fray. Officer Daniels climbed out of the driver’s seat a moment later and ran over, and Debbie followed right behind him. Between them they managed to drag the boys off of Eddie and get them to stop. They grouped up, huddled together to one side as Callahan yanked Eddie to his feet.

“Look who it is,” Callahan said with a smirk. “Hawkins’ most wanted! Oh, we’ve all been wondering where you got to, son!”

Eddie shot him a scornful look, making a half-hearted attempt to pull free. Debbie’s heart sank as she saw the blood running from his broken nose. Evidently some of the blows had gotten past his arms. Callahan’s grip tightened, and with a wide grin on his face he marched the battered boy down to the car to roughly slam him against the hood and cuff his hands behind his back.

“Hey!” Debbie ran after him. “What are you doing? Look at the state of him! You don’t have to be so rough!”

Callahan turned to face her. “I’ll be as rough as I damn well please,” he retorted. “This little piece of shit murdered at least three people, and there’s some say he had something to do with the destruction in Hawkins too. So who knows how many deaths he’s responsible for? So if I want to be rough with him -” He lifted Eddie up and slammed him down again, making Eddie grunt with pain – “Then I will. And one more word on the matter and I’ll have you in cuffs too, understand?”

Debbie’s face twisted. “You can’t do that!” she complained.

Callahan rolled his eyes. “Suit yourself.” Grabbing her roughly by her arms, he pushed her down onto the hood of the car next to Eddie, pulling her wrists behind her back. Debbie found herself face to face with Eddie as cold steel encircled her wrists. Eddie raised his eyebrows at her questioningly. Debbie gave him an apologetic smile in response – as well as she could with one cheek mashed against the cold metal of the car hood.

Callahan yanked them up from the hood and marched them round to the passenger seats, shoving them into the car one-handed. Eddie smashed his head on the top of the door as he went in and swore loudly, prompting another hard shove from Callahan. Debbie tumbled in after Eddie, Callahan’s shove almost landing her in his lap. He slammed the door after them and strode back to where Daniels was talking to the basketball team. She righted herself awkwardly and looked out of the window, back toward the house. Nicky had disappeared along with all the others. So much for that friendship, she thought bitterly. She watched as Daniels and Callahan argued with Andy and Chase, the others all standing back looking sullen. Then Daniels pointed at the house, and the boys all trudged back inside. Callahan caught Andy by his shoulder and turned him back round briefly, and to Debbie’s astonishment, actually shook his hand before letting him go inside.

“What the fuck?” Debbie exclaimed. “They’re not going to arrest any of them?”

“What for?” Eddie asked. His voice sounded rusty and dry, despite how soaked they both were. “They caught the town’s boogeyman.”

“But they could have killed you!”

Eddie smirked. “Doubt it. But what’s your story, anyway?”

Debbie turned to see him staring at her. Suddenly she felt nervous, her stomach fluttering. She’d never considered herself as having a crush on Eddie, just a sort of fellow-freak affection. But now, sitting alone with him in the back of this car, looking into his big brown eyes, she was suddenly aware that he had a sort of magnetism about him that drew her in. Her mouth went dry and she licked her lips nervously. His eyes followed the movement of her tongue, then flicked back to meet her gaze. Her stomach flipped. “Wh-what do you mean?” she asked, tearing her gaze away.

“Why’d you get involved?” Eddie asked. “Why’d you help me?”

Debbie shrugged. “Because it was the right thing to do.”

“Is that all?”

She could hear the smile in Eddie’s voice. “Well … maybe because … us freaks should stick together,” she muttered.

Eddie chuckled. “Aw, you’re no freak. Just a little different, that’s all. Nothing wrong with that.”

Debbie risked a glance at him. He was still looking at her, but his soft smile made her feel more at ease and she found she could keep his gaze. “I don’t really think you’re a freak either,” she said.

“Oh, I am,” Eddie replied, his eyes skittering away. He stared out the front windshield vacantly. “I’m a real monster.”

Debbie swallowed a lump in her throat. “Did … did you do it? Did you kill those kids?”

Eddie shook his head. “No.”

“Then why are you a monster?”

Eddie opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it with a snap, nodding toward the front of the car. Debbie looked up to see Callahan and Daniel striding back. They pulled the front doors open and climbed in, muttering about being soaked and something about stupid kids. Then Callahan turned and grinned at them through the mesh that separated the front and back seats. “But we hit the jackpot here, didn’t we?”

Eddie glared at him silently. Callahan’s grin faltered slightly before he turned and faced forward again. “Yep, we hit the jackpot. We’re gonna get promotions off of bagging you, Munson.”

Eddie snorted. “In this town? It’s just you and the chief. What are you gonna get promoted to, chief donut taster?”

Callahan turned and slammed a fist against the mesh. “Shut up, you little punk!”

Eddie smirked as he turned away again. Debbie tried not to laugh. It hadn’t been that funny a joke, but she hated Callahan, with his weedy little moustache and his self-important swagger. Anything that took his smirk off his face was fine with her.

They sat in silence as they were driven to the police station, listening to the rain drumming against the roof. Occasional flashes of lightning illuminated the world in bright white, followed by low rumbles of thunder. When they reached the station, Daniels pulled Debbie out of the car, and Callahan took hold of Eddie. They were marched inside past the eager eyes of the secretary, who was already reaching for the phone as they passed her.

Daniels took Debbie to one of the desks and sat her down. She expected Callahan to do the same with Eddie, but instead he marched him straight through to the cells. “Hey,” Debbie said. “Shouldn’t he -”

Daniels cut her off. “Munson is staying in a cell until the Chief gets here,” he said. “You are going to answer a few questions about tonight, and then you can go.”

Debbie watched the door to the cells while Officer Daniels rummaged around in his desk drawers for a pad and a pen. She heard muffled voices, then the unmistakeable sound of a fist hitting flesh, followed by a low groan from Eddie. “Hey!” she said again. “You can’t let him -”

“Why don’t you just worry about yourself?” Daniels advised her.

Debbie fell silent as Callahan appeared, massaging the knuckles of one hand. He gave her a smug look before sitting at another desk and pulling out a pad of his own. Daniels, locating his own pad, cleared his throat. “Okay,” he said. “So let’s start with what you saw.”

Debbie turned back to him. “I saw Andy and his asshole friends run outside and start beating on Eddie,” she replied.

“And why was Eddie there?” Daniels asked.

Debbie shrugged. “He was just walking by. He wasn’t at the party or anything.” She paused, then added, “Before he walked by, everyone thought he was dead.”

“Presumed dead,” Daniels corrected her. “Okay, why don’t you just tell me what happened from your perspective.”

Debbie took a deep breath, then launched into her side of the story. When she was finished, Daniels nodded in satisfaction and put his pen down. “That pretty much tallies with what Andy Johnson and his friends said,” he remarked.

“So are you going to arrest them?” Debbie demanded.

Daniels gave her a wary look. “Again,” he said, “You should just worry about yourself. You’re free to go, but you should think about the company you keep.”

Debbie snorted a laugh. “I will definitely do that,” she replied. After a moment, when Daniels didn’t move, she added, “So are you going to uncuff me?”

Daniels started. “Oh – right. Sorry.” He came round to the front of the desk and bent down behind her to take off the handcuffs. When her hands were free she massaged her wrists for a moment, then said “Can I see Eddie before I go?”

Daniels uttered a heavy sigh. “You just don’t listen, do you?” he said, shaking his head. “Fine. Go ahead. Don’t be long.”

Callahan scowled as Debbie passed him, but said nothing. Debbie went through the door to the cells and peered inside. There were only a couple of cells, and Eddie was in the second one, the one not visible through the doorway. Debbie went to the door of his cell and peered in, resting her hands on the bars. “Hey,” she said.

Eddie looked up at her from where he sat on the narrow bench at the back of the cell. His face was still smeared with blood, and there was a still-bleeding cut on his lip that she was pretty sure wasn’t there before. At least Callahan had taken off the cuffs. “Hey,” he said. “You’re still here.”

“Wanted to say sorry before I left.”

“What for?”

“Getting you arrested.”

Eddie snorted. “Not your fault.”

“It kind of is,” Debbie admitted. “I told my friend to call the cops. But it was supposed to be on Andy and his friends, not you.”

“Ohh,” Eddie replied, staring at her. “I see.” Slowly, he got to his feet and crossed the small cell to stand in front of her. Debbie felt another nervous flutter in her stomach. She both liked and hated having the cell bars between them. Part of her wanted to get closer to Eddie, but another part of her found the idea terrifying.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, and absurdly she suddenly felt on the verge of tears.

Eddie’s gaze softened. “Hey,” he said. “It’s okay. You did what you thought was right.” He paused. “But maybe you could make it up to me?”

“Yeah,” Debbie said, nodding. “How?”

Eddie stepped closer, lifting one hand to cover hers where it rested on the bars. She saw ugly scrapes on his knuckles and dirt caked under his fingernails and in the grooves of his heavy rings. Then his palm closed on the back of her hand and she felt an electric shiver pass through her. She looked up, her eyes locking with his. In the dim light of the cells, they seemed to glow almost red.

Eddie’s expression grew stern. “You’re gonna get me out of here,” he said.

“How?” Debbie asked again.

“Any way you can,” Eddie replied. “But you have to do it tonight. Before sunrise. Do you understand?”

Debbie nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I understand.” And she did. She was going to get Eddie out of there. Nothing else was important. She had to figure out how. Eddie needed her to.

“Good girl,” Eddie said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. His hand felt cold and dry. “Go on, then.”

Turning away, Debbie walked back to the office. She felt strangely dazed, but at the same time everything was clear. She paused in the doorway to look at the two officers. Daniels was talking to the receptionist in the entrance; she could hear their voices through the door on the other side of the room. Callahan was still at his desk, leaning back in his chair, reading what he’d written on his notepad. His free hand was fiddling with his pen. A half-full cup of coffee stood on the desk by his hand. A heavy ring of keys hung from his belt on the side facing Debbie. On his other side, she figured, was his gun.

Her eyes went back to the coffee cup. Glancing across the room, she saw a table with a coffee machine and a stack of cardboard cups. “Can I have some coffee?” she asked.

Callahan looked up at her as if he’d forgotten she was here. “Uh … sure, I guess,” he replied.

Debbie smiled. “Thanks. You want me to get you a refill?”

Callahan’s expression immediately brightened. “Yeah, sure. Black, two sugars.”

Still smiling, Debbie plucked his cup from his desk and crossed over to the coffee machine. Taking two new cups, she filled them both from the jug in the machine. The liquid was steaming hot. She emptied two sachets of sugar into one and gave it a brief stir with one of the plastic spoons. Then she took a cup in each hand and walked back to Callahan’s desk. As she reached the corner of his desk, she dragged her foot and feigned a stumble. “Oh – crap!” she cried, tripping forward and propelling the two cups of steaming hot coffee directly into Callahan’s lap.

Callahan yelled in surprise and pain and shot to his feet, slapping at the hot liquid. “Jesus Christ, kid!”

“Sorry, sorry! Here, let me -” Debbie grabbed a box of tissues from his desk and yanked out a large fistful of them, swiping and dabbing at his legs and crotch, pushing him back into the chair. Callahan spluttered a protest. She kept swiping, her strikes hard enough and fast enough to distract him from her free hand as it unhooked the keyring from his belt and slipped it into the pocket of her jeans.

“Stop, stop!” Callahan cried eventually, grabbing the tissues from her. “I’ll do it, Christ! Get out of here, will you?”

Debbie stepped back, leaving him to mutter in annoyance as he scrubbed at his uniform. He paid her no attention as she headed back to the cells instead of going to the exit.

Eddie looked up at her as she approached his cell. “That sounded fun,” he remarked.

Debbie just smiled and pulled the keys out of her pocket. Eddie grinned. “Good job,” he said. “Get this door open and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Nodding, Debbie fingered through the keys, trying a few until she found the right one. The cell door opened with a loud click and swung open. Eddie stepped through and took the keys from her with a smile, his fingers lingering on hers. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, and her heart swelled in her chest. “Now come with me.”

They went back into the office. As Callahan glanced up and saw Eddie, he swore loudly and fumbled for his gun. Before he could even undo the clasp, Eddie was at his side, one hand on his shoulder. Callahan looked up into his face and froze.

“You’re going to let me go,” he said.

Callahan’s face went oddly slack. “I am?” he murmured. “But you’re a murderer.”

“You talked to me and you don’t think I did it any more,” Eddie replied. “Remember?”

“Oh …” Callahan said faintly. “That’s right. I did.”

“And that’s what you’re going to tell the chief when he gets here,” Eddie added.

“Okay,” Callahan said.

“So I’m free to go,” Eddie said.

Callahan nodded. “Yeah. You’re free to go.”

Eddie patted his shoulder and smiled. “Good man. Come on, Deb.”

Debbie blinked. “You know my name?”

“Sure I do!” Eddie winked at her. “Cute little thing like you. Of course I know your name.”

Debbie smiled back, bursting with delight. He thinks I’m cute!

Taking her hand, Eddie led her out of the station. As they passed Daniels and the receptionist, Eddie smiled at their expressions of amazement and jerked his thumb back toward the office. “Talk to your partner,” he said as he pushed open the doors to the police station and led Debbie out into the night.

In the hour or so that they’d been in the station, the storm had passed. Debbie followed Eddie in a daze, the feeling of her hand in his all she could concentrate on. His hand was cold, but soft. She wanted to warm it. She tightened her hold, and Eddie looked over his shoulder at her and smiled.

“Where are we going?” she asked eventually.

“Just away,” Eddie replied.

Debbie looked around and realised that they’d come off the streets and were walking down a narrow dirt track in the woods somewhere. Eventually a large, solid shape loomed up above them, and they stopped. In the darkness it took her a moment to figure out that it was a rock formation.

“You know where we are?” Eddie asked. When Debbie shook her head, Eddie went on: “Skull Rock. You know what that is?”

Debbie had heard of it. “It’s a place where kids go to make out,” she replied. Her cheeks flushed hot, and she was glad it was dark. “Are … are we, uh …”

Eddie turned to face her, and she could see his eyes shining in the darkness, appearing almost red. “Would you like that?” he asked, his voice low and somehow dangerous.

He took a step toward her, and she stepped back instinctively. “Uh … N-n … I mean …”

He stepped forward again, slowly urging her backward, his eyes shining like a hungry cat. Her back hit the rock, and her heart sped up. He had her trapped. “No?” he asked, teasing.

Something had changed. She didn’t feel excited or embarrassed any more; she didn’t want to look into his eyes or feel his hand in hers. Her heart was pounding, her breath was speeding up and she was trembling as adrenaline surged through her, but she wasn’t aroused: she was afraid. Terribly afraid. Looking at Eddie was like looking at a hungry lion. For the first time, she could believe that he was a killer. That he had done the terrible things they had accused him of.

She tried to swallow the lump that had risen in her throat. “E-Eddie?” she croaked.

“Yes, darling?” he murmured. He rested his hands on the rock behind her, one on each side of her, keeping her in place. He leaned closer. Debbie strained backward, pressing her back against the rock.

“Y-you’re not going to … hurt me, are you?”

She heard the smile in his voice. “Why would I do that? Us freaks have to stick together, right?”

She let out a shaky sigh of relief. “Right.”

“The thing is …” Eddie said with a sigh of his own, “I can’t let you go either.” One of his hands moved to her cheek, his fingers stroking along the line of her jaw. She fought the urge to cringe away from his touch. “My little trick on Callahan won’t last forever, and I can’t have you telling people where I am. And I really do think you’re cute, and maybe it’ll be fun.”

A cold shock of fear flooded through Debbie as she realised that his eyes weren’t shining, they were glowing. The hand on her cheek felt like the hand of a corpse. She felt sharp fingernails rasping gently against the sensitive skin beneath her jaw.

“Still think you’re a freak like me?” Eddie asked softly.

Debbie shook her head. Her hands reached behind her, grasping for something – anything – that would help her situation, but all she felt was bare rock.

“Would you like to be?” Eddie asked.

“I … N-no, I …” Debbie stammered, unable to stop herself from cringing away. “I-I don’t understand, Eddie …”

Eddie grinned, displaying white teeth and long, sharp fangs. Debbie’s eyes widened in fear and understanding, and his grin widened too. “Still want to make out, sweetheart?” he growled. His hand tilted her head up, exposing her throat. He leaned closer, grin stretching as he opened his mouth wide.

“No, n-no wait -” Debbie raised her arms, trying to push Eddie away, but it was like pushing against the rock behind her. “No, no no no please please don’t – Eddie, Eddie!”

Pain bloomed in her throat, and she shrieked. His hand moved to muffle her, and she whimpered against his palm as the pain subsided. A strange, sweet sensation flooded through her – something like drowning, she thought, as she sank down into a darkness that felt warm and comforting. Cocooned in darkness, she floated in it for what seemed an eternity.

Then the pain returned. She was doused in an icy cold. Her eyes snapped open and she gasped, shivering. She felt weak, sick. Her vision greyed at the edges like she was on the verge of losing consciousness.

She was lying on the ground at the base of Skull Rock. Eddie was looming over her, straddling her. She tried to reach up to push him away, but she couldn’t move her arms or legs.

“Am I dying?” she whispered.

Eddie shrugged. “Yeah. You’ll get over it.” He paused. “I think. I haven’t actually tried this before, so I’m kinda just relying on the movies for this. But let’s see.”

He lifted his wrist to his mouth and bit into it. Cool blood splattered down onto Debbie’s face. She wanted to turn her head away, but she couldn’t. He lowered his bleeding wrist to her lips.

“Drink,” he said.

She had no choice. She couldn’t move. The blood ran into her mouth and down her throat and instinctively she coughed and swallowed. It tasted like pennies and static.

Eddie smiled and chuckled, as if something had just occurred to him. “Welcome to the new Hellfire Club,” he said. His expression darkened. “And this time,” he added, “It’ll be exactly what they all say it is.”

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