#tiny terrors halloween

[totcoc0a]

Yesterday the episode I wrote and acted for the Tiny Terrors Halloween Special was released! This technically marks my official debut and I could not be more thrilled to have been given this opportunity!

Thank you so much to @taytayheyhey for editing my script :D

Please take a listen and catch up on this last whole month of incredible content!

#tiny terrors #audio drama #horror audio drama #tiny terrors halloween #mission log #Spotify

[littleacebee]

I am not really a fan of horror so I don’t listen to horror podcasts. And don’t point in the direction of The Magnus Archives or The Silt Verses or Death by Dying or Tiny Terrors or Mabel or Re: Dracula or Hello From The Hallowoods- you know what, never mind.

#happy halloween everyone #I did realise some time ago that for someone who doesn’t like horro I sure do have a lot of horror podcasts I listened to #horror podcasts #fiction podcasts #tma #the silt verses #death by dying #tiny terrors #re: dracula #mabel podcast #hello from the hallowoods

[sickeninglyshoujo]

a/n: i saw the renders (you know the ones) and became feral with need for dad!ghost, other cod dads coming soon, sorry to my friends for being forced to read me word vomit this in chat over four hours. ao3 link coming soon warnings: pregnancy talk word count: 1.8k

Simon doesn’t like when the baby wears the skulls but you do because it reminds you of him

When he grew up he equated the skull mask to terror, the baby only has positive thoughts about it and gets excited seeing it yelling out “daddy!” if she sees the motif in public, mortifying Simon and delighting you. Onlookers growing even more concerned when you coo back, “Yes, that is daddy!” pointing to the Halloween display of a grim reaper statue.

I can tell you that Simon is a master at baby rearing

Simon would absolutely carry the baby under his arm like a football once her neck is strong enough even if you don’t like it because it’s more comfortable like that

It’s second nature to him somehow

Even when you’re stressed about the baby and can’t get her to stop crying somehow Simon just comes over and says the one thing you haven’t tried because he can differentiate between her cries

You were afraid about introducing the baby to Riley, but Simon wasn’t. “They live in the same flipping house, he has t’ get used to her!”

“But not when she’s newborn! Let her get a little bigger first!”

“No better time than now! She’ll never be afraid of him then and he’ll protect her!”

“They call them malingators for a reason!”

“Riley is a well-trained retired soldier. He’s not going to hurt the baby.”

The first meeting had Simon holding the baby in his arms and stooping down to Riley’s level, Riley nosing at the baby’s sock-covered feet hanging from Simon’s arms, sniffing excitedly. You stood above Simon, wringing your hands together, ready to jump in between the two at a moment's notice.

“This is your baby sister, Riley,” Simon instructed the dog whose ears moved, listening to his master’s voice, “She’s your new assignment, boy.”

“Bloodthirsty, isn’ he?” Simon asked you with a grin as the dog yawned and stayed calmly seated, beginning to lick at the baby's booties.

“Shut it, Si.”

Riley is the baby’s shadow. If she so much as sniffles he’s darting across the house trying to find out what’s wrong. It’s like Simon’s watching over her even when on missions 

Simon hates that the dog is named Riley because he thinks it’s stupid and is constantly begging to rename the dog. You refuse because you like the constant reminder of your husband. It doesn't matter that he shares the family name.

When you first bring the baby home from the hospital Simon is in constant awe at how tiny she is. Like a little doll he keeps telling you to the point he sounds like a broken record

Simon constantly worried about baby being cold 2k24 and always has a blankie in the diaper bag or draped over the baby carrier.

After missions he would look for you first when he came home before stripping off the dirt and grime of missions and now it’s the baby. He used to think you were his reason to keep trying to save the world and now it’s her. It only stings a little but that is soothed when you see the awe in his face when she coos at him from her crib

It isn’t long before Simon is trying to get you to agree to try for another “Jus’ one more love,” he'll mutter into your neck after the baby is put down for the night and you two have retired to your bedroom only to be batted away weakly

“Oh no, Si! No more babies and no more sex! Not if you’re going to talk like that!”

“But yer such a good mum. We should have a houseful.”

Simon would petition you to quit your job because it’s bad enough the baby has to deal with him being gone on missions they shouldn’t have their mum gone too

“I make more ‘an enough for you to stay home with her!”

“The money isn’t the point, Si,” You coo at the baby on your lap, “I don’t need to be a housewife and I like working!”

You giggle whenever the other 141 men are over because they will carry the diaper bag slung over their shoulder and completely at odds with their uniforms.

It heats your cheeks to watch your burley husband in full military uniform when you greet him on base, bouncing your baby on his hips, playfully pulling her hands away when she gets too close to a switch or something she shouldn't touch, particularly when other women notice him too

It would swell your chest with pride when you and Si were out with the baby and he’d get longing looks from women when he was doing dadly things like pushing the stroller or rifling through the diaper bag for her bottle or burp cloth. 

“You have to have seen the way women look at you when you’re carrying the baby.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“You’re practically tormenting them, Si! And me too! You’re all big and tough! You’re in uniform or in a compression shirt and then you’re holding onto her in just your arm while she can’t even wrap a hand around one of your fingers!”

Simon doesn’t understand your point, “I’m tormenting you?”

Heat flushes your cheeks, “I like watching you be a dad to our daughter.”

The baby has essentially four dads as all of 141 takes care of the baby when they come to visit on leave

You worry about them spoiling her, “She’ll get too used to being held Si!”

“Then damn well let ‘er!”

“What about when they leave!”

“You think they’re leaving?! Soaps brought a bloody duffel!”

Because when you have the baby Captain Price, Soap, and Gaz are all going to visit. Moving into your cramped guest room for easily the first month after the baby’s born, Gaz and Soap fighting over who gets the futon and who has to share the bed with the Captain.

They need to see the baby!

They never thought Si would settle down but that was before you and your endless patience with the grumpy military man set in his ways.

You didn’t miss when Price clapped him on the shoulder after Simon showed off the baby for the first time, “You did well, Son.”

“Thank god she got the missus’ looks!” Soap crowed, “I was worried she’d get L.t.’s ugly mug!”

“I was hoping she would Johnny,” you peer down at the baby in Simon’s arms and trace a finger down her cheek, “She did get his eyes though. You know those were the first thing I noticed when we started talking, Si? How sad your eyes were.”

“Don’ have “sad eyes”.”

“I thought you did. And you were wearing that silly skull balaclava too, so I couldn’t very well fall in love with your chiseled jaw or the cute scar on your lip,” Soap and Gaz howled in laughter, missing the dirty looks from Ghost (You did too, eyes entirely on your daughter swaddled in a soft terry blanket in her father’s arms)

“Hey L.t. let me give you a few more scars for the missus to kiss!” Gaz ribbed

You never minded patching Simon up after missions. It gave you an excuse to ogle your husband in detail. Even before you were married, he’d tried to wave you off when you’d dab at the blood encrusted cuts and then flush when after taking care of the ones on his arms, much less when he stretched and took off his shirt for you to do the ones on his chest too. Thankfully he didn’t notice your brain shorting as you forgot how to breathe when you saw how heavily muscled and tattooed he was, culminating in an audible gasp as your eyes took in his happy trail and Adonis belt. 

“You ok?”

“Y-yeah just banged my foot on the tub.”

He’d later recount this to Soap who nearly banged his head on the wall at how dense Ghost was being

“An’ you wen’ home after that!”

“Yes Johnny, I had PT the next morning and had to ship out that night.”

He let out a string of curses, “The lass likes you and probably was hoping you’d stay the night wi’ her!”

“MacTavish,” Simon warned.

“She let you take off your clothes in her bathroom and then cleaned you up! Lasses don’t do that for cheeky cunts they don’ like!”

You miss him when he’s on missions of course, but it’s easier once you have Riley and then the baby. It’s like you have piece’s of him with you

Si is a beige mom but instead of beige it’s gray. You try and explain the importance of the bright colors in developing the baby’s eyesight but Si just mutters something about no baby of his is going to look like a muppet

Riley used to sleep at the foot of your bed but now he sleeps by the crib. You don’t know when he learned how to work door knobs but it happened somewhere between the third trimester and birth. Now you have to coax him into your room if you miss Si and want to cuddle Riley

You’ve given up on trying to keep Riley out of the nursery and instead just tut when you find dog hairs on the baby. 

Riley is the ever-patient soldier with the baby, letting her pull on his tail and ears, tugging on (and sometimes removing) his fur, all while happily wagging his tail at being used as a jungle gym

When the baby starts toddling and skins her knees, Si can’t help but scoop her up before the first tear leaves her eye “Si you’re spoiling her!” “She hurt herself, I can’ just let her cry” “She hadn't even cried yet!” “She was abou’ to”

Simon is an over attentive dad because he doesn’t want his baby to suffer the same way he did 

Si rolls his eyes whenever you  tell him not to throw the baby in the air because he’ll drop her but he knows his reflexes are superhuman and he’d catch her

SI doesn’t baby talk and will discuss the finer parts of gun mechanics and maintenance with your infant as she gums on a teether.

When she’s older, Si buys her a pellet gun for Christmas and hides it from you until unwrapped on Christmas morning

By the time it’s in her hands you know you’ve lost

He ignores your dirty glance that says “We’ll talk about this later”

As she grows up she starts talking about joining the SAS like her daddy and you’re filled with fear while Si encourages it. Starts taking her training with him much to your horror, first on short jogs around the neighborhood, then to the gym proper to teach her how to throw a punch. She quickly becomes the star of the base, with all the men calling her “Recruit”

“Nothing dangerous yet Si I mean it!”

“She asks for it!”

“She is a child and you are her father! You’re supposed to be the voice of reason!”

“The voice of reason says she might as well be trained right if she wants it!”

a/n: likes/reblogs/comments appreciated please talk to me about dad!ghost i cant contain myself

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod fanfic #grave writes

[training4theapocalypse]

Tiny Stitches (Adrian Chase x gn!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: SMUT, Graphic injury detail, Handjob

Summary: Your Halloween plans are cancelled last minute. You’re ready for a night alone eating Halloween candy until Vigilante comes to your door needing stitched up.

A/N: Based on this ask by @impossibleheartflower - thank you! No pronouns are used but the reader is wearing a slutty nurse outfit. It’s pretty nondescript (e.g. no specific mention of skirt or pants) so the slutty nurse outfit can be whatever you want it to be. Maybe the real slutty nurse outfit is the friends we made along the way.

Masterlist

Chapter text

You dip your hand in your bubble bath to test the temperature - it’s not exactly going to make up for the fact that your Halloween date flaked at the last second but you know you’ll feel better when you take off this ridiculous costume and sink into the bubbles.

You hear a distant knock from your front door and turn off the tap. 

It’s sort of late for trick-or-treaters. Right? Maybe your apartment is the last stop for the kids who live in your building. You don’t want to end up on a register somewhere so you pull on a robe over your sexy nurse costume.

“Coming!” You rush out of the bathroom to unchain your front door. 

You let out a gasp of shock when you open it. Thud. A man’s body falls backwards into your apartment.

“What the fuck?!” 

Is he… dead?

Dread fills you as your eyes ping over every part of his figure, looking for signs of life. But it’s hard to tell when he’s dressed in a black and teal Halloween costume with his face completely concealed by a mask. 

Almost completely. 

His eyes are just visible behind the red visor on his mask. He blinks up at you. He blinks. He’s alive. 

The man dressed up as the masked Vigilante of Evergreen groans. “It’s me... Sorry.”

That voice is familiar. “Who- ?”

Vigilante stares up at you standing over him. He knows he’s got more pressing matters to worry about than being offended that you don’t recognise his voice but he can’t help it. He’d know your voice anywhere. Hell, he even recognises the way your keys jingle in the hallway when you get home from work. 

“I’m your neighbour… from across the hall.” He clutches his side with one hand so he can rip off his mask with the other. 

Oh.

‘Hot guy’ is the stupid thought that pops into your head when you stare at his upside-down face lying across your doorway. You realise who he is now after all, under his Halloween costume, with his dark, curly hair and sharp jaw - all that’s missing is his glasses. You’re not even sure of his name - you’ve been so used to referring to him as ‘Hot Guy Across The Hall’ in your friends’ group chat for months that you’re more accustomed to calling him that in your head.

‘Hot Guy Across The Hall took a package in for me today.’

‘I bet you’d like to take a package from Hot Guy Across The Hall.’

You snap out of it when you see a trickle of blood drip onto your floor. You look at the gloved hand clutching his side - he’s holding a wound on his abdomen. A dark puddle of blood leaks through the fabric, staining the white parts of his gloves crimson. A new terror sets in as you realise he’s been attacked.

“Please, I need a nurse.”

“This…” You look down at your red and white polyester outfit and the plastic stethoscope around your neck that’s visible underneath your open robe. “This is a Halloween costume.”

“I know that. I’ve seen you in scrubs.”

“I’m a vet.”

“Uh, thank you for your service?”

“A veterinarian.” You stick your head out the door and look up and down the hallway, worried about anyone stumbling upon the bloody scene. “Get in here.” You slip off your robe so you can move freely, then bend down and drag Hot Guy Across The Hall by his underarms into your apartment, sliding him across your wooden floor and shutting the door behind him. Fuck, he's heavier than he looks.

Shit, what was his name?

“Aidan, right?”

“Close enough.” He groans, staring up at your ceiling. 

“Can you get up if I help you?” 

“Mhm,” he winces in affirmation and you bend down to put his arm around his shoulder. He inhales sharply, holding onto his side as you help him across your small apartment into your bedroom. You’re glad your apartment is clean. Not that you’d admit out loud that you’d tidied it specifically just in case your date had gone well tonight.

You help him onto your fresh bedspread. The blood is definitely going to stain your new sheets. Perfect.

“Okay, let’s see what we’re dealing with,” you say, tossing the plastic stethoscope aside and sitting beside him on the edge of the bed so you can assess the wound. “Wait, is your costume a onesie?”

“No,” he groans. “I just need to take off the belt-” He swears when he removes his hand from his side to unfasten his gunbelt. A jolt of adrenaline courses through you when you realise that attached to him are real guns.

“Okay, let me do that. You just keep applying pressure.” You firmly move his hands from his belt to his wound. The sound of metal on metal clicks in your silent bedroom when you gently unthread the belt from the loops. “There we go, you’re doing great,” you soothe as you place the belt and his gun on the floor and roll up the top half of his suit. Your fingers tremble slightly when you realise the fabric under them isn’t cheap polyester. It’s thick. Lined with what you expect is Kevlar. This is no bargain bin Halloween costume.

Oh shit.

There’s a long but shallow knife wound running down his ribs. It doesn’t look like there’s any damage to his vital organs. But it’s gruesome. “I’ll get my car keys - I’m taking you to a hospital.”

“Wait!” He tries to sit up but yelps in pain and lies back again.

“Please, I can’t go there… Too many questions.”

It confirms your suspicions. 

“You’re not dressed up for Halloween.” It’s not a question but you look up to see his response all the same. You’ve been so focused on his injury that you haven’t noticed the way his green eyes have been searching your face. He slowly shakes his head and looks at you beseechingly. Ugh. You can’t say no to those pretty eyes. It’s why you ended up becoming a vet - you just can’t resist the stupid, puppy-dog eyes. 

“I don’t have any anaesthetic. This is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“Thanks.”

“Keep that sentiment in mind when you’re screaming in a second.”

You leave him and boil some water while you busy yourself finding your medical supplies and a bottle of vodka. You set up your things on the bedside table while you sit on a throw pillow on the floor next to the bed.

“God, this is always the worst bit.” He says, squinting at you dipping the gauze in the boiled water, getting ready to clean out the wound.

“Don’t you normally wear glasses?”

“They’re in my pocket.”

You reach into his pocket and carefully place them on his face. “Better?” He nods. “Or maybe you don’t wanna see this?” 

“Aren’t you gonna clean it out with vodka first?” He asks as your hand hovers over his wound, holding the gauze.

“Hell no - that’s only in the movies. Alcohol can damage your tissue. This is for us.” You open the bottle with one hand, take a quick swig and shudder before handing him the bottle.

“Shouldn’t you be sober for this?”

“Hey, the dogs never complain when I turn up to work drunk.”

“They don’t?”

Your face cracks into a smile as you take in the sincerity of his look. “A joke. I’m joking.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” He takes a long gulp of vodka, screws up his face and passes it back to you.

You clean his wound and he clenches his fists, breathing heavily. 

“So, you said you’ve done this before?” You ask, trying to distract him.

“Yeah,” he says through gritted teeth.

You scan his toned lower abdomen and spot a gruesome-looking scar just under his navel. “Oof, I can tell. That looks like shit.”

“Hey-” He cuts himself off with a sharp inhale when you give the wound one last wipe. 

You thread the sterilised needle. “You ready?”

“Wait.” He extends his arm towards the vodka and you pass it to him so he can take another drink. He shakes his head. “Ready.”

“I’ll be quick. I promise.”

He groans when the needle breaks his skin. “So, what’s your name? If it’s not Aidan.” If you keep him talking, you can take his mind off the pain. Keep him conscious.

“It’s Adrian.”

“How about that? I was close.”

“I know yours. I get your packages sometimes.” He says your full name and address as if reciting a poem.

“Well remembered,” you say, furrowing your brow in concentration as you make the next stitch. He grabs your shoulder instinctively.

“Sorry,” he whimpers.

“It’s okay. You’re doing so good.”

His grip tightens at that.

“Anyway, how come you’re home more than me? You always get my packages. Doesn’t doing all this keep you busy?”

“I work nights. Mostly. Evenings too at my other job.”

“You’re a waiter, right? I’ve seen your uniform.”

“Busboy.”

“That’s cool,” you jabber on, focusing on keeping him distracted. “Must be a pretty convincing secret identity.”

“Right?!” He perks up at your compliment, extremely pleased that you think his secret identity is a good one. 

“Bussing tables in the evenings then committing murder at night?”

“It’s not murder.” He grimaces again. The grip on your shoulder is now vice-like. “It’s holding people accountable.”

“Sure, sure…” you say. You feel strangely calm. It’s as if the shy, awkward dude on your bed is just cosplaying as Vigilante. Even though you’re currently stitching up his fresh wound from whatever the fuck it is he’s been up to tonight.

“...You’re not gonna, like, tell anyone, right?” You feel his eyes studying your face as you continue stitching him up.

“That depends. What are you gonna do for me?”

For some reason, his cheeks turn crimson and he blinks rapidly behind his glasses.

“Uh, like what?” he blusters.

“Does your job have any perks?

“Uh… Do you need me to kill someone?”

“No!” And despite the absurdity of the question, you laugh. “I meant like free pink lemonade for life in exchange for stitching you up.”

“Ohhhh, right. I dunno. I might get asked a lot of questions if I give you free drinks.”

“More questions than you’d get at the hospital if I took you there instead?”

“Uh, no, probably not.” He chews his lower lip seriously and it makes you feel bad for teasing him in his sorry state. 

“I’m kidding, dude. My lips are sealed.”

The fact he’s Vigilante doesn’t scare you in the way you know it should. You know you should absolutely phone the police. But you kind of enjoy sharing this. A dirty little secret between the two of you. 

“Pink lemonade is overhyped,” he says after a few beats.

“Is is not! It’s like the best kind of lemonade.”

“It is - ow! Sorry! Okay, sorry for saying it’s overhyped! Pink lemonade is great. Jesus.”

“That wasn’t on purpose - sorry. It’s just the last stitch… Keep holding onto my shoulder if you want?” Before you even finish the suggestion, his blood-stained gloved grips onto your white nurse outfit. “You’re being so brave.” 

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers.

His whimper makes you feel flustered in a way you hadn’t expected. And you’re pretty sure it’s nothing to do with the task at hand.

You can’t think of a response to comfort him. Your bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired - usually, your patients are much fluffier. You stop short of calling him a good boy and patting his head

Finally, you tie off your last stitch and squeeze some antibacterial ointment onto the neat row of stitches. 

“Done. Now take a look at this.” With difficulty, he hoists himself into his elbows to look at his stomach. “Evenly spaced stitches, not too tight, yeah? Now look at these.” You point at the scar on his lower abdomen. “Tiny stitches. They’re too tight. And you shouldn’t make X’s when you sew yourself up. Not bad for a second try, though.”

“That was like the fifth time I’ve done it,” he pouts. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“Look, you can feel how it’s gone all bumpy.” You trace your fingers along the scar, feeling the way the skin has healed unevenly under the trail of hair on his stomach. 

He flushes again as he looks down at you, your fingers brushing his abdomen.

“What?”

“Sorry.” He lies back again, determinedly looking at the ceiling.

“For what? Oh.” Your forearm brushes against something hard in his pants as you remove your hand from his stomach. “My bad.”

“It’s not - ” he winces, trying to sit up further but changes his mind mid-way through. “Fuck.”

“Does it hurt?”

“My… my boner?”

“No!” You crack up laughing again and he joins in uncertainly as if not sure why. “Your very recent knife wound?”

“Oh. Yeah. I mean - no.” His eyes linger on your body and you suddenly feel very aware of the fact that you’re kneeling at his side wearing not very much clothing. He swallows and looks away quickly. “Y’know, I should go. I don’t wanna ruin your night.”

You laugh like it’s nothing. That this whole situation is totally in your comfort zone.

“Don’t worry about it. I was supposed to be going to a Halloween party with a date but they bailed.”

“They bailed on you?”

“Eh, it happens.” You shrug. “They mighta had a better offer.”

“Than you?” He looks at you seriously and pushes his glasses higher up his nose. “No way. Not possible. You’re, like, a ten.”

You tilt your head and look at him carefully. He takes a sharp inhale of breath when you get up from the floor, sit on the bed next to him and place the back of your hand on his forehead.

“Wha - what are you doing?”

“You don’t seem to have a fever…” His eyebrows scrunch together as he gazes up at you through his wire-rimmed frames. “I just thought you might be hallucinating.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not hot.”

“You don’t have to compliment me just because I stitched you up.”

“Am not!” he protests like you’re teasing him. “I’d compliment you all the time if you didn’t run off every time I saw you.”

It’s your turn to protest. “I do not ‘run off’.”

Although it’s not strictly true. You sort of do. You just thought he hadn’t noticed.

“Uh, yeah!” he says. “When you picked up that package last week? It was kinda impressive how fast you sprinted across the hall.”

You feel heat rising in your neck as you remember it. He had answered the door wearing just a pair of grey sweatpants, grinning as you read the indiscreet label plastered on the front.

‘HOSPITAL HOTTIE - ADULT FANTASY LINGERIE’

You had stammered a quick thanks before fleeing back to your apartment where you shut the door behind you and leaned against it, eyes closed, not sure whether to text your friends immediately with this news or to strip off and take a cold shower. 

You look down at your almost bare legs and smooth out the front of your outfit, now wishing you hadn’t so hastily thrown off your bathrobe. It must look ridiculous.

“Y’know when I saw the label, I thought a lot about what was in that package.”

Your eyes dart up instinctively to see if he’s making fun of you. He’s smiling. But sincerely. It’s a cute smile. With dimples.

“You did?”

“Tch - Hell yeah I did. I sort of… I dunno. Fantasised about this, I guess.”

Your throat feels dry. “About this?”

“Yeah, I mean I thought I might have been dreaming when you actually opened the door like that.”

You look at him suspiciously. “Adrian… did you - did you get stabbed on purpose so I’d take care of you?”

“What? No! I never get stabbed.”

“Never?”

You touch the scar on his lower abdomen again and this time - intentionally - your forearm rests on his crotch. 

“Well, hardly ever.”

“You should let me stitch you up from now on,” you say, as your fingers dance down his stomach. “The next rare occasion you get stabbed.”

The heel of your hand barely grazes the tip of his hard cock through his pants. When his eyes lock onto yours, you know you’re not being slick. He swallows. You freeze. You’re worried you’ve overstepped.

You both stare at each other for a few seconds.

You realise you’ve been holding your breath. “What else was in your fantasy?” you whisper in an exhale.

“Fuck.” He closes his eyes like he’s throwing caution to the wind. “This.” His gloved hand clamps on top of yours faster than you’d have expected in his injured state and he firmly moves your hand over his cock.

Fuck it.

Your hands work urgently, unzipping the suit hugging his waistline and suddenly his warm cock is under your palm.

He suppresses a groan of pain and you look up in alarm, worried that you’ve hurt him somehow but you can see he’s trying to sit up.

“Lie back - you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“It’s - ow, fuck - it’s worth it if I can kiss you.”

You push his chest back gently so he’s lying on your pillows and kneel on the bed to kiss him. As soon as your lips meet his, he tries to lift himself up again, lurching himself deeper into your mouth. Your tongue slips into his mouth as you push, more firmly this time, onto his chest so he can’t sit up.

You lean your forehead against his and his glasses push into your brow. “Keep still. Nurse’s orders.”

“I thought you were a vet,” he says breathlessly.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

You lick your palm, wrap your hand around his cock and slide it along his shaft.

“Oh fuck... Fuck - you’re so hot. Where - where have you been all my life?”

His eyebrows knit together in a beautiful, pathetic sort of way that makes your lower tummy burn dangerously. 

“Across the hall in this slutty little outfit. Waiting to take care of you.”

“Holy fucking shit.” He tenses his thighs and jerks his hips up into your slick fist with a laboured groan.

“Don’t. Stay still,” you tell him sternly. For some reason your reprimand makes him clench his jaw.

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Yeah? I bet you do. I bet you’ve been jerking off thinking about it.”

“Y- yeah,” he gasps. His cheeks are flushed pink. You don’t think it’s from embarrassment - you have a feeling he doesn’t embarrass easily so you press on.

“Tell me.”

“I’ve been - shit - I’ve been jerking off thinking about you.”

“Doing what?” Your hand picks up pace and he squirms underneath your touch.

“I told you. This.”

“Just this?”

“Fuck. No.”

“Tell me then,” you repeat.

“I wanted to - oh god - when you ran across the hall, I wanted to grab you.” His voice strains. “Pull down your scrubs and fuck you so hard you wouldn’t forget my name again.”

You feel yourself dissolving then and there. “Shit. I would have let you.”

“Ah - fuck,” he whispers as he throbs under your hand. “Let me. Please.”

“No.” You stay in your kneeling position on the bed - one hand bracing against his chest to prevent him from sitting up and the other pumping up and down his cock. “You’re hurt. Lemme take care of you.”

He whimpers and pushes his head back into your pillows. The muscles in his pale neck tighten as he swallows hard. You can’t resist leaning down and pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses on the exposed sensitive flesh of his throat.

“Relax, Adrian,” you murmur, your mouth pressed against his skin. 

When his name leaves your lips, his groan vibrates in his throat against your mouth in response.

“Fuck - fuck - you feel so good.”

“You know where’d feel better, right?”

Adrian’s hips jerk up into your hand again. You don’t scold him this time - you let him squirm and work his hips in sync with your fist. He can handle it.

You kiss along his jawline and meet his lips again. 

“Cum for me and you can fuck me when you’re healed,” you whisper.

And quicker than you’d expected - he does.

A shaky gasp leaves his lips and without really realising you’re doing it, you pant with him, breathing each other’s air as spurts of warmth coat your fingers. Your hand flexes along his length as you milk every last rope of cum from him and he collapses back onto your fluffy, white pillows.

Grabbing tissues from your bedside table, he lets you clean him up without complaint as he breathes heavily, staring at your ceiling. 

“Better?” You give him a wry smile and he brings his gaze back to you.

“Yeah…” He looks down at his new stitches apprasingly. “I just wish I hadn’t been stabbed.”

“Yeah, well I’m kind of glad you were.”

He laughs so hard that he winces in pain and holds his side again. “Fuck. You’re kind of a freak, you know that, right?”

“Maybe I just like helping injured little things that give me puppy dog eyes.”

Adrian exhales a gentle laugh and fixes his glasses. 

“Did you mean what you said about stitching me up again?”

You meet his green eyes. “Did you mean what you said about fucking me so hard I’d never forget your name again?”

“Uh, yeah? Obviously.”

“Then sure.” You toss the used tissue into the trash can and kiss him again. “Fucking sounds good. Pink lemonade is overhyped, anyway.”

#adrian chase x reader #adrian chase #vigilante #vigilante peacemaker #vigilante x reader #smut #halloween

[ashwhowrites]

Perv! Eddie Munson x cheerleader! Reader, where she's taking treat or treat some kids that she baby-sits, and Eddie scares her while she was with the kids, and that ends up on the night getting ruined, and reader gets angry at Eddie and days later she goes to his house to try to talk with him and tell him how awful he is for scaring them, but they end up kissing (and maybe smut If you feel comfortable)

I love perv Eddie

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3 happy October

⚠️small bits of smut, Eddie is an ass ( but I like it )

Trick or treat

Y/N always caught Eddie's eye.....the cheerleader team as a whole did. He liked to sit at the bottom bleachers, hoping he'd see up their skirts during their flips. He'd sit under the bleachers during football games, hiding in the cheerleader's section as he jerked himself off. But there was something about her that stole Eddie's attention. In many ways, he wanted to humiliate her and use her body as she tried to hide away from him. She never gave him the time of day, she didn't even notice him.

Tonight she would.

~~~

Y/N was walking behind her small group of kids. She babysat a little boy named Evan every day, and he needed someone to take him and his friends trick or treating. She loved Halloween and seeing kids dressed in their costumes. She was dressed up as an angel, something simple she put together. A white dress, a halo, and wings.

She followed behind the boys as they took a turn, a man with a Michael Myers mask jumped out. The boys screamed in terror as they ran, smacking into her as they raced down the street.

"Asshole!" She scolded, pointing at the man with a disapproving look. She couldn't believe someone would be sick enough to scare young children.

Eddie laughed as he tore off the mask, his cock twitching at the angry look in her eyes and snarled lip.

"Of course it's you." She spat in disgust. "You just ruined their night, feel good about yourself?" She crossed her arms.

Eddie smirked and bit his lip, looking at her up and down.

"You look amazing in that tiny dress." Eddie whistled, walking around her slowly. He eyed the way she shivered and tried to stay mad.

"Just a little trick, but I see my treat has arrived." He said, standing behind her as he whispered it into her ear. His tongue licked the shell of her ear as he pressed his hard cock against her ass.

She gasped and pushed herself away from him. She turned around and slapped him hard across the face. She looked at him in horror as she ran past him.

Eddie held his cheek with a smirk, watching as she ran out of his sight.

~~~

A few days passed and Y/N couldn't help but think of Eddie. The way he looked at her like she was a small prey he was stalking and planning to have for dinner, but she liked it.

She was positive it was stupid, but she asked around for his address. She stood outside his door, her head spun with all the ways he could destroy her.

"Christmas came early." Eddie teased, licking his lips as he eyed her familiar uniform. Y/N tried to act grossed out by his words.

"Listen, I'm here about the other night. When you scared the shit out of the kids I was babysitting?" She tried to sound intimidating but Eddie just smirked.

"Yeah and what about it? Jealous I didn't make you scream too? Promise baby girl, I can make you scream in seconds."

"You are disgusting. No! I want an apology. You ruined the kid's night! I couldn't get poor Evan to sleep!" She explained.

"Maybe it's his hot babysitter that keeps him awake, not me." Eddie flirted, using his arm to lean against the doorway. His face was close to hers.

She shivered as he got closer, his musky scent filling her nose. She tried to ignore the memory of his cock pressed against her. The feeling kept her up all night, he was hard and seemed big.

"Whatever, I don't know why I even came here." She scoffed, turning around but his hand softly grabbed her wrist. He gave her all the control to walk away, but she found herself frozen. He tugged her closer, her body turning into his. She couldn't help it, her eyes drifted down to his pink lips, a smirk stretching across his face as he noticed.

"I think you came here for yourself, not the kids." His taunting words made her knees weak. He removed his hand from her wrist, placing his finger under her chin, her head now pointed up towards him. She prayed he didn't hear the whimper that left her lips.

"Now, if I were to kiss you, would you stop me?" He asked, clicking his tongue as he turned his head to the side. The cold air from outside was blowing against her body, but it did nothing to cool her down.

She didn't have an answer, she wasn't sure why.

Eddie took her silence and smirked. Leaning down to whisper right against her lips. "I guess we'll find out."

She hated how easily her body melted into his when he pressed his lips against hers. The control he had with just his lips, her thighs clenched thinking of all the different ways he could have control over her. His hand moved down to her neck, wrapping around her throat as he pulled her even harder against his lips. She wasn't sure when it happened, but she felt his tongue exploring her mouth. Her hands gripped his shirt desperately as he kept moving her further into the house. It was like she had no control over herself.

Her body was slammed against the now-closed door. His knee shoved between her legs as his hands moved down her body. Squeezing her breasts, hips, and thighs. She felt a fire burning down her skin, his hands held all the flames.

She whimpered when he pulled away, her eyes locked on the spit that connected his lip to hers. The thin string had her craving to smash her lips on his again.

"Your pussy wet now too?" He cooed, mocking a sweet voice as he taunted her. She immediately went to snap her legs shut, forgetting his knee was locked in place. The embarrassment filled her body when she clapped around his leg.

"Oh, you poor thing. Think you could hide that from me?" He taunted her, she got whiplash from how fast he turned her around. Her face shoved against the door as he yanked down her skirt. She couldn't form any words, not sure if she'd moan or ask him to stop.

She gasped when his fingers pushed into her, right over her underwear. The material shoved into her cunt, forced to soak up her wetness.

The laugh Eddie let out made her shake.

"Now run home and take care of yourself." He said, pulling up her skirt. He grabbed her arm and moved her away from the door, opening it and pushing her out. She couldn't speak when he slammed the door in her face.

She raced home, breathing heavily as she tried to wrap her brain around what happened.

She wasn't sure what the fuck happened, but she found herself wanting to come back over.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson smut x reader #eddie munson smut x female reader #perv!eddie #eddie munson x cheerleader #perv!eddie x reader #perv!eddie x cheerleader reader #ashwhowrites

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 2: Too scary - Multi!Muse x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multi!muse  x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of scary movies, trauma, blood, gore, etc. Nothing too graphic

Type: Blurbs

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Turns out the movie was too terrifying for little Y/N to handle, therefore it’s their job to comfort you.

Notes: Let’s see how long I can keep this up.

Jason Voorhees: At first he wouldn’t notice, mostly focused on the movie and the candy he’s stuffing his face with. When you’d shuffle around, when he’d notice the constant movement, then he’d take a look at you only to find you with your knees close to your chest with your arms wrapped around them. It’d take a moment for him to register that your stomach was turning at the imagery. Once he would, Jason would instantly coop you up into his arms and keep you in a tiny ball, doing his best to protect you from your thoughts.

Michael Myers: He can smell fear, he’s always been exposed to fear all around him, it’s like second nature to him. When he realizes you’re afraid of the movie, he turns over to stare at you for a moment, which makes you even more uneasy. Thinking Michael looks at you like you’re a big baby, you decide to just cross your arms and brave through the rest of the film. Of course, failing miserably. Michael would force you into his arms, letting you kind of flop into his arms and situate yourself however you wanted. 

Tiffany Valentine: She loves horror movies, it’s one of the things that could keep her occupied. While your stomach twists at the imagery and blood splatter on the screen, Tiffany seems mesmerized by it, not paying much attention to your squeamish reaction. Once you’re both done with the movie, she’d turn to you asking “So, how’d you like it?” Only to see you near traumatized. “Y/N!” Tiffany would wrap her arms around your face and bring you into her chest, pressing you into a hug. “Was that too scary? Why didn’t you say anything babe?” Of course she’d make it up to you, with much affection and endearment.

Billy Loomis: Doesn’t even notice at first how uncomfortable you are, no matter how much you nuzzle into him. A few flinches in, he’d look down to you to make sure you were awake, but to see you near in tears would cause him to stop the movie. “Y/N? You okay? We can stop watching this, I just thought you’d like to see it with me.” He knew better than to keep it playing when you’d tell him you were fine. “No, I mean, it’s kinda lame anyway, here’s the remote, find something better. I’m gonna get another beer, you want anything?” Then he’d come back, lay into the arm rest and bring you down with him, making sure you were cuddled into the blanket on the couch.

Stu Macher: What a dumbass, he wouldn’t really notice at all if you were crying or looking away from the screen too much. He’s “in the moment” with the gory scenes. After the movie, Stu would ask you how you’d like it only to see hot tears streaming down your cheeks. He’d laugh a little bit at how scared you looked, but then would give you the tightest hug. Stu would hold you tightly enough to give you some troubles breathing regularly, letting you put on some cartoons to forget the imagery. Will this happen again? Absolutely.

Patrick Bateman: Ok, he’s probably the worst of them all. Patrick watches snuff films and all kinds of gruesome films for fun. When you brought it up to his attention, he was more than happy to show you what he liked and explain to you the different methods of torture and what part inflicted the most pain. Even if you’d throw up, Patrick would keep the film going, mesmerized by the screams telling you “It’s actually not that bad.” But he’d let you hide into his arm, clenching onto it as you did so, but there was no way to hide from the terrorizing screams and Patrick's chuckle throughout it.

Leatherface: Honestly always checking up on you through every scene. Bubba doesn’t even want you to watch the scary films, he would think you were too pure for them, ironically. If you insisted though, he’d let you, holding you close to him and giving you space to hide if you needed to look away, which seemed to be often. Bubba would be ready to turn off the screen at any moment, one arm wrapped around you and the other one with the finger on the off button. He too would let you watch cartoons with him after. Bubba would offer you your favorite junk food or candy and let you snuggle into him while you laugh at the new pictures on the screen.

Harley Quinn: Is SUPER into horror. Laughs at the screams and blood splatter “Y/N! Y/N! Did ya see that? Did ya see it?! Let me rewind it.” Harleys a bit clueless when it comes to seeing your discomfort at first, but then when she notices you keep flinching or looking away, her expression immediately changes. “Oh my god Y/N? Are you afraid of this? You shoulda said something pumpkin’!” Immediately cuddles you and keeps you close to her chest, changing the channel to a Disney movie. Harley would be THE best at comforting you, squeezing the near life out of you to keep you comfortable and your mind off of things. Lots of comfort food, honestly.

Poison Ivy: Isn’t necessarily obsessed with horror movies and gore, not very interested in it either but she doesn’t mind playing the exorcist for background noise. If you’re not obviously telling her that you’re scared or you want to play something else, she would pick up on how you would react. Flinching at certain moments in the movie, looking away from the screen constantly, all things Pamela would notice, putting two and two together, she’d turn off the TV, telling you simply “What a trashy movie, let’s go play.” And would lead you into the bedroom for some TLC. Pamela’s love language would be physical touch and she would make sure you would get enough of it to fall asleep to. She’d make a mental note to stay away from horror movies with you.

Bruce Wayne: Never was really big with horror movies to begin with. Bruce grew up with musicals and operas, he was cultured in filmmaking, but horror never really made a mark in his interests, mainly because of the real life horrors he had to face already. Of course Bruce picks up on everything, noticing your reluctance in watching any more of this movie, he decides to nuzzle you into him, not saying a word and changing the channel, or taking your hand to lead you out of the theater. After all, Bruce knew what it felt like to be afraid. Expect a ton of tender touches and soft kisses.

Jason Todd: Sweetest energy tbh. Whether your watching a scary movie as a group or together, his reaction would be similar in both scenarios. As soon as he’d feel your palm in a cold sweat he’d look for your reaction, even if you try to brave through it, Jason would pull your face into his chest, kissing the top of your head. ‘What a bullshit ass movie.” He’d mumble while subconsciously caressing the back of your head. “You’re being brave dollface, but you don’t have to be.” He’d whisper to you and give you a squeeze. ”Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Billy Hargrove: Notices instantly, but wouldn’t want to call you out on it. Instead he would also pull a stunt like Pamela. Telling you “This is kinda tacky, let’s leave.” And would lead you out of the movie theater, turn off the TV or leave whatever house party you were at. He’d make sure to never let you go, holding your hand, keeping his arm around your waist as usual, always being protective of you. Billy would make you feel safe enough to tell him what happened and what was wrong and why. He’d actually listen to you, being quiet for a moment, letting it all sink in, then comfort you by telling you “That’s nothin’ to be embarrassed about,  I had a few movies that scared the daylights out of me, but you know I’m never gonna let anything happen to you.”

Steve Harrington: Knows from the start that you don’t like horror movies, he doesn’t either but he can stomach a lot more than you can. Steve was kind of taken a back when you insisted that it would be fine to have a movie night with your friends even though they planned a horror marathon. When the kill scenes would get severely worse as the movie progresses, you’d get more uncomfortable and at this point it seemed like an unspoken competition to see who could stomach more gore, you or Steve. Still, when you’d take a nap, shifting and shuffling around in the blankets, he’d know the movie maybe actually got to you. Steve would hug you tightly, caress your face when you’d drift in and out of sleep. 

Steve Rogers: Would be such a big time caregiver energy. When you’d hide your face away in certain scenes, Steve would notice instantly, hugging you closely through the scene. If you kept showing discomfort, Steve would take you from the room, not offering an explanation to anyone. “Come on sweetheart, let’s go do something else” He never really understood the concept or horror movies, nor the appeal, so it wasn’t like he was missing out on anything. Steve would pick you up, letting you hide into his chest or his neck. He’d kiss your head, cheek and neck constantly, slow and full of love. “Come on angel, let’s watch something else.” He’d turn on the TV letting you chose any cartoon movie you’d be in the mood to watch.

Bucky Barnes: Also with Steve energy, he’d let you hide into him. He kind of understood the concept of the horror movies, even liked a couple but not to the extent those around you  both would like. His heart melts when he sees you pout and avoiding looking at the screen. Closing your eyes waiting for the screaming to stop, Bucky would want nothing more than to reach over and pull you onto him, letting you hide into him and tell you everything was okay and it was only a movie. When the movie would be over, he’d check up on you, making sure you weren’t still thinking of it, which more than likely you were and he wouldn’t hesitate to spend the night with you, letting you curl into his body, being three times your size and keeping you safe from whatever horror you saw today.

Wanda Maximoff: She would notice it the second scene in, the minute you hesitated to agree on a horror marathon with the team, she knew maybe you were a little bit more of a baby than she initially thought. She’d play it off with you as well, telling the team the movie seemed boring and that she just wanted to go to bed, she was tired. When the others would dismiss her, not paying much attention, she would look at you, who stayed sitting in silence. “Y/N? Are you okay? You keep nodding off, come join me, let’s get you to bed.” Wanda would be your saving grace and of course she would let you sleep in her bed, keeping you comfortable and safe in her pillow fortress and arms.

Loki Laufeyson: He’d always notice any sort of discomfort in you, knowing that you weren’t able to stomach much of the gory scenes but a part of him wanted to see how much you were able to handle. Loki would sit where he was able to look at you with just a flicker of his eyelids in your direction. When you’d all have a movie night, Loki would be the one to agree to watch something gruesome just to see you squirm in your seat. When it would be too much to handle for you and you’d have to excuse yourself, Loki would come to your aid when he would pass by your room to see you sitting on the corner, hugging yourself trying to erase the imagery out of your head by watching your favorite comfort films. “Y/N? How are you doing?”

Cloud Strife: He’s not very fazed by horror movies or anything of that sort, but if he feels you hide against him again throughout the movie, he would let you. He’d hesitate to put his arm around you, but if you snuggle into it, he’d squeeze you in. Because this seemed to be very unlike Cloud, snuggling into his torso would be the most comforting thing. Cloud would let you sleep with him if you admitted you were scared, letting you snuggle in under the covers with him, he’d drape an arm over you and keep you close as you drifted off to sleep.

Aerith Gainsborough: Not terribly interested in horror movies, but would watch a few just to spend some time. Aerith has quite the strong stomach compared to you and the rest of your friends. She could sit there and watch a full marathon with you guys no problem, but if you couldn’t handle it, she’d understand and take a walk with you, picking flowers for you on the sidewalk as she would try to distract you from the imagery from before. Her smile surely would help, Aerith would be the perfect person to comfort you for something that seems as silly as a horror movie.

Sebastian Michaelis: He’d seen it all, fear is not something he was very familiar in feeling, but he knew it came as second nature to the human species. If you were afraid of a movie or show, he’d find it amusing to see you worked up over false imagery when he had seen much worse, all real as well. Sebastian would still excel in his duty to comfort you, assuring you there was nothing to fear, since he would never let anything hurt you. Being cared for by him in this way did help, you knew he meant it and it was silly for you to worry about anything that was plastered across a screen.

Spencer Reid: Would be so wholesome, he had seen so much gruesome scenes, often inspiring many of the plots of movies you two were watching, but he knew to spare you the details. When Spencer heard you wanted to see a horror movie with him, he was surprised, letting you decide which one, but when it was too much for you, he knew right when to stop it and ask you if you were okay, not wanting to have you get nightmares for the next week straight. Spencer would soothe you, holding you close to him, letting you lay down onto him and snuggle under a blanket. He’d play something more wholesome, maybe a Disney classic in the background or some sort of comedy to keep your mind off the previous imagery. 

#billy loomis x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #stu macher x reader #michael myers x reader #jason voorhees x reader #cloud strife x reader #jason todd x reader #steve harrington x reader #harley quinn x reader #poison ivy x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #spencer reid x reader #sebastian michaelis x reader #tiffany valentine x reader #leatherface x reader #loki x reader #patrick bateman x reader #billy hargrove x reader #multi muse x reader #ghostfacesvalentines halloween #31 days of halloween

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Oh, this fun October!

Self-Aware! BSD Characters x GN! Reader

Description: BSD's Cast First Halloween in real world! Full of cute moments. You are sure, that you will enjoy this Halloween as much as them.

Fluff

Happy Halloween, everyone!

Warning: OOC. English is my second language.

____

Pumpkin

You walked inside the kitchen, looking unamused. The room was cowered in pumpkin pulp.

In the middle of the room sat the reason for the whole mess.

Akutagawa was clutching the pumpkin remains in his hands. Rasenmon was hovering above him, its maw was covered in orange pulp.

You left him for one minute. And now, only two pumpkins from seven were left.

You rub your forehead.

"What did I tell you?"

Akutagawa looked a tiny bit guilty. Just a little. Somewhere deep inside him, Ryunosuke regret not listening to you. Probably.

"Don't use my ability for pumpkin carving."

"And what did you do?"

"Used it. It's faster that way."

Akutagawa looked at the mess he created.

"Just let me get hold of it."

Rasenmon strike forward remaining pumpkins.

***

At the end, Oda and kids will do the carving. As for Ryunosuke's pumpkins... Well, backed pumpkin is delicious.

Ryunosuke wasn't good with pumpkin carving.

But, he is good at cutting food. At least, cutting pumpkin.

______

Leaves

You were carrying red maple leaves in your hand. Red, orange and yellow leaves were crunching under your feet.

Shibusawa, dressed in kimono, was looking near you. He was twirling a single maple leaf in his hands.

"Sorry, if it's not that interesting." spoke you, looking at Shibusawa. He smiled at you.

"Don't worry, [Y/N]. It is interesting." Shibusawa looked up. "This autumn full of imperfections... And it makes it so perfect. So interesting."

Shibusawa looked at you again.

"I heard, that there is a kiosk, where you can buy pumpkin latte. Let's buy some."

He walked further down the road.

You hummed and walked after Shibusawa.

_______

Tea party

You breathe in the tea aroma. Golden, warm liquid looked magnificent.

You taste it.

"Mm! Apple Cinnamon tea. You outdid yourself, Ivan!"

Ivan smiled, drinking some of his own tea.

"I am glad, that you liked it, [Y/N]."

For a few minutes, you two enjoy the warm drink with some bubliks¹.

Warm tea was perfect for October. Especially, if you are drinking it with a friend.

_______

Candy apples

"Ranpo, for the future reference, never try to make candy apples again." sigh you, trying to tear off the caramel-coated apple from Ranpo's forehead.

Detective just waved his hand and took a bite from the apple you already removed.

"Come on, [Y/N], it's not like it was completely my fault! You opened the door when I had the plate with caramel apples in hands. You startled me and made me drop apples on me."

You licked some caramel off your fingers and tear another caramel apple from Ranpo's cheek.

"Yes... But you were the one, who added so much caramel, that apples are practically became coated in thick sphere. And you are the one, who start carrying apples before caramel hardened."

Ranpo only tool another bite.

_______

Moonlight

The moonlight was bright tonight.

Under the moonlight, fully transformed Atsushi was running. Magnificent white tiger was fast.

And you were riding on his back.

It was a spontaneous decision, but, after learning, that Atsushi manage to fully control his tiger form, you proclaimed, that you want to ride on his back.

That's why you two were here.

Atsushi stopped running and start slowly walking.

You gently scratch behind his ears.

White tiger huffs.

______

Fog

Fog was heavy. So heavy, you could barely see your fingertips. Thankfully, Herman Melville was with you.

Old man was skillful in navigating through the fog. With small compass in his hand and will your phone's flashlight, you two manage to navigate through the woods near your house.

The road were destroyed because of the rain, so you two need to walk through the woods.

Soon you will be home.

______

Haunted

The screams of terror were coming from the "House of Horrors".

A few minutes later, Nikolai walked outside the attraction, whistling a cheerful tune.

Soon, people and actors start running away from the attraction.

He was holding your left hand. In your right hand, you were holding cotton candy.

Nikolai grinned.

"It was fun, Birdy, isn't it?"

You took a bite from your cotton candy. At first, Nikolai didn't like the "House of Horrors". So, he decided to join actors into scaring people. In his own way.

"Yea. Especially, when you pretend to be sewn in half by a fake saw... You didn't..."

Nikolai immediately stopped you.

"Ketchup and red paint, don't worry, [Y/N]. So... To the next attraction?"

You nodded and Nikolai start leading you to the next ride.

______

Black cat

You turned your back on one second and Fukuzawa was already done. How you could lose him? Where did he go?

You start searching for him through the nearest shops.

You found him in the pet shop.

Local animal shelter decide to show some of their animals, dressed in Halloween themed costumes, in hopes, that they will be adopted.

Fukuzawa, man, who was almost two meters tall, was cradling a small black kitten, that was dressed as a bat.

"Good little bat..."

It was so strange to see Fukuzawa, whose expression remains stern, tickling kitten's chin.

But... Should you really take the kitten?

***

On your way back, kitten was held against Fukuzawa's chest.

_____

Spider

It was in your house...

It was terrible...

It was awful...

The spider crawl at your direction. You jumped on the nearest person and hold to them for dear life.

"DAZAI, KILL IT!"

Dazai himself looked uncomfortable.

"I don't want to touch it!"

Spider crawl closer.

Dazai, with you on his back, jumped on the nearest person.

_____

Few jumps later

______

"CHUUYA! KILL IT!"

"And how do you expect me to do it?" asked Chuuya, who, somehow, still was standing, despite the fact, that you, Dazai, Kirako, Higuichi, Pushkin and Q hung on him like grapes on a branch.

***

Tetchou was the one, who killed the spider, while Tachihara and Teruko tried to make all of you let go of Chuuya.

______

Rats

"When I was little, I start feeding some rats from the alley, that I passed on my way to school. Soon, they start bringing me little gifts. Rocks, twigs, old paper. But, one day, they brought me money. So, I gave them better food. Rats quickly learned, that if they want good food, they need to bring me money... So, Fyodor, do you think, I could train a new rat pack to bring me something good? I have a sandwich" asked you, leaning towards Fyodor.

He pinched your nose.

"Stop it. Cake is for tomorrow's party. I won't steal you a piece of it. Even if you give me a sandwich."

You stuck out your tongue.

"You are no fun."

Fyodor chuckled and patted your head.

"Let's go, Al Capone from National Geographic Channel, let's play checkers."

_____

Vampires

Today, everyone woke up because of loud noises and sounds of something being thrown around in the library.

A quick check up reveals, that it was probably Bram. No one see Count Stoker since yesterday.

Or you were being robbed.

You (because, if it is Bram, you could calm him down) and Fukuchi (because if it is a robbery, he will calm thieves down), enter the library.

For the next ten minutes everything was quiet.

Then you opened the door. You looked slightly angry.

"Okay. Confess immediately. Who in the world gave Bram "The Twilight Saga" and called it a good book about vampires?"

____

Party

The party was a blast.

Pumpkin lanterns were lit.

Everyone was wearing costumes.

Kenji, Q, Elise, Kyouka, Katsumi, Kousuke, Sakura, Shinji and Yu just returned from trick or treating and were showing, what they got.

Food was delicious. Drinks were refreshing.

You heard Kaji's voice.

"Hey, everyone, the camera is ready! Gather around!"

You were stuck in the middle of the photo, surrounded by all of your friends. You were holding Karl in your arms, Ayatsuji's cats were sitting near your legs and Fukuzawa's new kitten was sitting on Fukuzawa's head. Kaji continued.

"Okay. On three. One, two, three..."

All of you, together, exclaimed.

"HAPPY HALLOWEEN!"

And another group photo was taken.

____

¹Bublik (also booblik or bublyk; Russian: бублик, tr. búblik, plural: bubliki; Ukrainian: бублик, romanized: búblyk) is a traditional Eastern European bread roll. Like a bagel, it is a ring of yeast-leavened wheat dough, that has been boiled in water for a short time before baking.

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd anime #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader

[rae-raewrites]

Btas dork squad with a kid who dresses up as them for Halloween?

I squealed when I got this one. So gosh darn cute!

BTAS dork squard with a kid who dresses up as them for Halloween

Riddler

Color him surprised!

Here he is on his way to enjoy his Halloween and this little gentleman is out here with the best costume

“Riddle me this dear boy,who has the best costume this side of the east coast?”

The kid actually looks happy to see him

The little domino mask is there as well!

Oh and the little cane!

I mean why wouldn’t one of Gotham ms youths pass off the opportunity to dress up as a genius

His night was officially made

Scarecrow

His favorite time of year on his favorite night of the year?

An already perfect time for the scarecrow himself

So lo and behold the one night Jonathan is about to throw a whole vial of fear toxin into a crowd he notices…..

A little him?

Takes him a bit to register the small child infont of him

He’s supposed the master of fear and yet this tiny child has decided that he’s a good Halloween costume?

It seems almost ridiculous yet here he is.

He can’t help but smile a bit

“Terror truly does come in all forms now doesn’t it?”

Mad hatter

Jervis doesn’t normally find himself out on all hallows Eve but this year is an exception

Absolutely stunned when he sees a little top hat and little 10/6 card sticking out of the brim

I-it’s a little him!

“Well hello there little rabbit,heading to a tea party?”

The little lad looks absolutely excited for someone to actually figure out who he is

Jervis can’t help but be a bit proud of himself for leaving such an impact to get a costume after him.

#batman #batman rouges #asks #headcanon #batman the animated series #btas #the riddler #scarecrow #mad hatter #btas riddler #btas scarecrow #btas mad hatter #edward nigma #jonathan crane #jervis tetch

[system-to-the-madness]

A Promise Kept - Itadori Yūji x Reader

Pairing: Itadori Yūji  x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: angst (a tiny speck of fluff in the end) Word Count: 3 951 Warnings: suicidal Yūji, self-harm (Yūji), panic attack(?), throwing up(both Yūji and Reader), death, canon typical violence, description of sever wounds and pain, lots of crying, SPOILERs for up to chapter 137 / episode 47 Summary: Following the Shibuya incident, you try to talk to Yūji, who has locked himself away A/N: Inspired by an ask @delzinrowe sent to @just-jordie-things and I got the permission to write it. This is probably not what you guys had in mind, but I had this idea as soon as I read this ask and stuck with it. Also: I usually don’t write angst unless it ends in a lot of fluff, so this is a first for me.

Masterlist

“He’s hidden himself away.” Panda’s voice was heavy with concern. Not unjustified concern, considering ever cheerful Yūji had distanced himself from everyone following the events of the Halloween night.

It was the morning of the first of November. Dust still hung in the air like fog, the first sunbeams of a warm autumn morning shining their light on the destroyed Shibuya. You had not slept at all in the past 24 hours, nor eaten anything in the past 12. Instead, you had thrown up even the little stomach contents you had had left. You had tried drinking something, but none of it was any good, you just couldn’t keep anything down. Not the water the half-curse Chōsō had offered you, not the green tea Yaga had handed you, not the broth Ieiri-sensei had convinced you to drink. You had thrown everything back up.

The pictures of the night kept haunting you, of the curses you had exorcised, of the transfigured humans you had been forced to kill, of Gojō-sensei’s eyes looking back at you from that prison realm in Kenjaku’s hands, of Megumi’s lifeless body leaning against a wall, of Nanami-san’s body being torn apart, of Nobara clutching her face before dying. Now of the four first-years, only Yūji and you were left standing. But you were doubtlessly in way better shape than he was. Sure, you were so exhausted that your hands were shaking and your legs quivering, you had cuts across your arms and face, and bruises all over your body, but Yūji was of way worse than that. He had a huge cut right over his nose, was missing a part of his cheek so his teeth were showing. According to Chōsō, Ieiri-sensei had already healed him, but the scars were red and angry, and you knew it still had to hurt. Not to mention what he had gone through, watching his friends die, just like you had. But you were not possessed by an ancient, evil sorcerer who had used your body to wreak havoc to the city, burn it to ashes. And you knew he blamed himself for all of it.

Now, as you stood where once the famous Shibuya Scramble Crossing had been, legs weak from exhaustion and morning sunlight reflecting in the broken glass of the skyscrapers around you, you wondered how you were even still alive. Sweat had dried on your skin, blood crusting your clothes, smears of dust painted your face. The shock of the news you had received about the outcome of the night had not quite settled in, instead it was a slowly creeping terror, that you knew would close its fingers around your heart once you stopped to rest. So it was better not to rest, not yet, not while Yūji was still in distress.

“Where is he,” you asked, turning to Panda, who was climbing over the debris. Somewhere beneath all that rubble the famous statue of that dog, Hachikō, was buried. Along with humans, all of them probably long dead.

“He hid in one of the bathrooms,” another voice answered.

Shielding your eyes from the sunlight, you were met with the sight of Chōsō. Dark circles were painted under his brown eyes, the black tattoo over the bridge of his nose seeming to split his face in two.

“Which one?”

You ignored how strange it was asking the half-curse – whose brothers you had killed – for directions to help your friend… who he also considered his brother. But Yūji was your friend and if Panda’s words were to be believed – why shouldn’t they? – then Yūji needed you. He was your friend. Right? Nothing more than that. And nothing less.

Chōsō looked around for a moment, trying to orientate himself in the rubble, then pointed to the stairwell closest to Shibuya 109.

“Down the stairs, the first bathroom.”

Instead of acknowledging either Chōsō or Panda any further, you began making your way to the entrance of the subway. In the backpack on your bag, bottles of water and bags with food shifted against one another, as you climbed over a piece of a building.

The stairs were almost entirely destroyed, but you made your way down anyway, trying to sort your thoughts out. This was not the time to contemplate your feelings for Yūji, you told yourself. What mattered now was to help him, not because you liked him, but because he needed help. He needed to drink something, something with minerals to avoid cramps later, so Ieiri-sensei had packed sports-drinks in the backpack you were carrying. He needed nutrients and vitamins, also packed in your bag. He needed words of assurance, so you had already thought about what you needed to tell him. That it wasn’t his fault. That without him, many more would have died. That you were glad he was still there. He probably needed a hug or two, and you were prepared to hold him for as long as he needed you to make him realize that you would always be by his side. Because you were his friend. Because you would always stick together.

Now was not the time to think about how you had always felt connected to him, from the first moment on. It was not the time to think about how tight he always hugged you, how close he sat to you during movie nights, how he pretended to serenade you during karaoke or make your favourite ramen for you when you felt down. Nor was it the time to think about how he always made you explain the homework to him, as if he had to force you to do it when really you were thankful for each moment you got to spend with him, especially when it allowed you to gaze at him for minutes on end without him noticing. And whenever he noticed, he would grin at you, as if he were proud of something, and your face would grow warm. One time he had even told you he liked it when you looked at him like this, and you had been unable to meet his eyes for the rest of the day.

And then there were those little touches, the hand on the small of your back whenever he guided you to walk on the inside of the pavement so he was walking at the side of the street. The touches that lingered a little longer than with anyone else. But now was not the time to think about any of that.

The lights in the subway station were flickering, making it hard to see through the dust in the air. On a wall the lit-up advertisement for some sports anime sent flashes of white light into the dark. What you’d give to be the stupid love interest in one of these harmless anime now.

And there was the bathroom.

Stepping through the dark, careful not to fall over any of the debris, you slowly approached the door, your dominant hand at the handle of the cursed katana you had spent the past six months learning how to wield. Listening for any suspicious sounds, you stopped for a moment, before you pushed against the closed door to the men’s bathroom.

It didn’t budge.

Furrowing your brows, your tried again, but the metal of the door refused to swing open.

“Yūji-kun,” you called into the silence.

Something moved behind the door.

“Yūji-kun, it’s me,” you called again, knocking against the door. “Are you in there?”

“Go away!”

Yūji’s voice sounded chocked up and raw when he answered from behind the door, making you exhale in relief. You had found him. And he was conscious.

“Yūji, you need to eat and drink something,” you told him, knocking again.

“Leave me alone, go away!”

“You know I can’t do that,” you refused, trying to suppress the shaking in your voice. He sounded so hurt and lost. All you wanted to do was wrap him in an embrace and protect him from the memories of the night’s events.

“I don’t wanna see anyone right now! Go away.”

“You don’t have to see me, we can keep the door closed if you like. Just-” you sighed, crouching down in front of the door. “Just talk to me. I want to help.”

“You can’t help! You can’t- unless you kill me, you can’t help!”

It felt like your heart stopped beating in your chest, and tears shot into your eyes. You knew Yūji would feel terrible, but bad enough to want to die? You had not expected that.

“Yūji-“

“They’re dead because of me! Because of me Nanamin and Kugisaki-” Yūji’s voice broke off in a sob. “They died because of me! Shibuya is burnt to the ground because of me! So many people died because of me! And Fushiguro- Ijichi-san, Maki-san, Inumaki-san- they all-”

This voice broke off again, and you heard choking from the other side, as if he was throwing up. Or at least trying to throw up. After tonight you were familiar enough with the sound of trying to throw up with an empty stomach.

“Yūji, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have prevented-”

“Of course, it’s my fault. It’s all my fault, all of it is!”

“No, it’s not! If it had been your fault-”

“Stop saying it isn’t! Because it is! All of it is! Those were my hands who killed all these people! My hands who destroyed Shibuya! All of this only started because I’m a vessel for Sukuna! If I weren’t, they wouldn’t have tried getting to me, and all these people were still alive! It’s all burned into my memory! Every time I close my eyes I see them die, over and over and over again-”

He chocked and gagged again, making your own stomach clench, and you squeezed your eyes shut. You wanted to help him so badly, hold him, comfort him. But the door kept you at a distance.

“If I weren’t possessed by Sukuna, they’d still be alive! Gojō-sensei should’ve just killed me! He should’ve just executed me!” From behind the door, you heard a bang, as if he had punched the wall… no, he had hit his head against it.

“Yūji!” You banged against the door, before placing your flat hand against it. Your fingers curled against the smooth, cool metal, your nails scraping against it in a desperate attempt to get to him. Of course, you could have just kicked down the door, but a part of you knew Yūji wouldn’t forgive you if you were to intrude on this space, he had created for himself, away from everyone. “Yūji, stop it! Stop!”

But another dull bang followed your plea, accompanied by his sobs and more retching.

“He should’ve executed me the moment the order came in! I should be dead!” Yūji’s voice was soar from screaming and crying and throwing up. “I should be dead! Then none of this would have happened! I should be dead! They should’ve just killed me! The world would be better off if I were dead! I should be dead! I should just die! I should-”

“Stop it! Stop it, Yūji! Stop it!” Tears were running down your cheeks as you banged against the locked door again, your voice shrill in your own ears. “Stop saying that! Stop saying you should be dead! Stop it, please stop!” You chocked on your own sobs, weakly trying to bang your firsts against the door. “I need you, you hear? I can’t lose you, too!”

For a moment there was silence on the other side of the door, no more screaming, no more head-against-the-wall-banging, no more retching. Only some heavy breathing.

“You’re only in danger around me,” Yūji eventually answered, his voice quiet. “Sukuna could take over any moment and he’d kill you without hesitation. The only way to ensure everyone’s safety would be to kill-“

“Nobody’s killing you! And those who try will have to go through me first! And the same goes for you! If you try to hurt yourself, Itadori Yūji, I swear by my life I will do everything in my power to stop you!”

Again silence spread between you. Long and heavy silence, interrupted only by your sobs and occasional gagging from Yūji’s side. It spread for so long, that you were almost tempted to ask if he was still conscious, when he spoke up again.

“I want to go home.” It was only a whimper, small and pained in the vast destruction of the night, and it made you want to tear down that stupid bathroom door and pull Yūji into the tightest hug you had ever given anyone. “I want to go home. Not to Jujutsu High. I want to go back to my grandpa’s place. And I want to eat his Naporitan Pasta. And sleep in my old bed. And just forget everything. I just want to feel safe. Just once more. I can’t take this anymore. I just-“

“Yūji, I-“

What were you supposed to say? His grandfather had died over six months ago. The apartment that had belonged to him was empty. Even if Yūji went back to Sendai, there would be nothing left of his old life, there was no way he could ever eat his grandfather’s homecooked meals again. What could you do to help him fill this hole, this loss that was so overwhelming? You had lost family too, but you still had a home to return to, some place to feel entirely safe. The thought, that no matter where Yūji went, he would never feel quite safe suddenly hit you. Not as long as he was possessed by Sukuna.

Suddenly anger bubbled in your chest, pushing aside the grief and fear of the night, and the pain you felt for your friend. As long as Sukuna possessed Yūji, he could never be happy. So you had to find a way to get rid of him.

“Yūji,” you repeated, your voice calmer this time, now that you had finally found a proper thought to express. “I promise you we’ll find a way to exorcise Sukuna. And we’ll free Gojō-sensei and deal with Kenjaku. And when all that is over, we’ll sit down with Megumi and Gojō-sensei and we’ll all make Naporitan Pasta together, in honour of your grandfather. I promise you. So please. Don’t give up. Don’t stop fighting. We need you. I need you. Please.”

Your declaration was followed by more silence, but at least he didn’t seem to throw up anymore.

“Do you promise?” His voice was weak and sounded like he was far away with his thoughts.

“Yes, I do. I promise.”

“Can we have pancakes with strawberries and cream for dessert?”

“As many as you like. I know a really good recipe,” you answered, the weight in your heart lifting a little.

“Okay,” Yūji agreed. “Uhm… can I ask you something?”

“Yes, anything,” you quickly replied, perking up.

“When I open the door… can you- would it be okay if we wouldn’t hug or anything?”

Confused you blinked, but nodded your head before you remembered that he couldn’t see you.

“Oh, ahm, sure. Of course.”

“It’s just-”

“You don’t have to explain-”

“But I want to explain,” Yūji interrupted you. “I just feel like, if someone were to touch me now, I’d have another…” he hesitated for a moment, “another panic attack. Because after all that… how could I allow anyone to touch me, when I’m the one who’s responsible for-”

“You’re not the one responsible! Yūji, please, you need to understand-”

“It doesn’t matter right now, okay? It doesn’t matter,” he interrupted you, sounding impatient. “I just- I just don’t want anyone to touch me, alright? I can’t have anyone touch me. Promise me?”

You took a shaky breath closing your eyes before you answered.

“Okay, I understand,” you assured him. “I won’t touch you unless you want me to, I promise. But I’m here for whatever you need, okay? I also got water and something to eat if you want, alright?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Yūji answered from behind the closed door. “Uhm, one more thing…”

Quietly you listened to what he had to say, blinking your eyes open again.

“I’ve taken quite a beating through the night and Ieiri-sensei couldn’t heal all of it at once so… don’t be alarmed, okay?”

You swallowed, trying to get rid of the painful lump in your throat. You had seen Yūji earlier, before Ieiri-sensei had treated him; you knew what state he had been in. If he warned you now about his appearance…

“I’m not looking exactly fresh either,” you told him, trying to sound cheerful, “I’m sure both of us have looked better than today.”

A small hum sounded from the other side of the door, before you heard shuffling of clothes, the clinking of porcelain against stone tiles and the sound of shoes on dusty ground.

Quickly you scrambled away from the door, but it swung open before you had gotten to your feet. Yūji was right, he still looked quite beaten up. The two worst wounds in his face were healed to fresh, pink scars, but smaller cuts and bruises still littered his skin, not to mention the blood and dust that stuck to his hair and clothes. A red spot was forming on his forehead, slightly swollen with a few scratches in the centre, where he had hit his head against the wall. Underneath his eyes dark circles, quite similar to those of his self-declared older brother, seemed to have taken up permanent residence. Your eyes dropped to his right hand, fresh blood running down his fingers from cuts on the knuckles and dripping to the ground.

“Your hand-!”

Almost you would’ve forgotten what he had requested of you, but your stopped yourself just in time before you reached out, staring up at him from where you were sitting on the ground instead.

“I punched a mirror,” he admitted, his beautiful eyes looking away from you in shame. “I saw those marks under my eyes and I- I got so angry.”

You swallowed again thickly but nodded.

“Let’s get you to Ieiri-sensei,” you decided, scrambling to your feet.

Up closer to his face, you could see the tear streaks on his dusty cheeks. The longer you looked at him the more your heart ached, and the harder it got to stick to your word of not touching him, when all you wanted to do was pull him into a long hug. He sure looked like he needed it. But he had explicitly asked you not to touch him, so you wouldn’t.

“I’m sure she can do something for your hand and those cuts on your arms and stomach.” You gestured to where his uniform had been ripped apart, showing shallow cuts on his pale skin.

“Thank you,” Yūji mumbled, but when you gestured for him to walk ahead, he didn’t move.

“Don’t thank me, thank her,” you tried smiling, knowing you were failing terribly.

“No, I mean… thank you for coming looking for me. And respecting that I don’t want to be touched right now. I know you want to hug me, or want me to hug you… you deserve it so much after this night but I just can’t right now and-“

“And that’s okay. If I want a hug, I’ll ask Panda. He’s cuddly,” you assured Yūji. “I know you feel like the weight of the world is resting on your shoulders. And maybe it is. And while you carry a lot of responsibility, you don’t carry the responsibility of giving me hugs whenever I want them, yeah?”

A small smile tucked at Yūji’s lips, and he nodded. “Thanks for understanding.”

“Sure thing,” you nodded.

“Hey, you said you had something to drink-”

Quickly you dropped the bag to the floor, and pulled out a bottle of the sports drinks, Ieiri-sensei had packed for Yūji and you, handing it to him. He unscrewed it and emptied it in one go.

“Need more,” you offered, holding a second bottle out to him.

“You first,” he demanded, signalling you to drink first.

Obediently you unscrewed the cap and took a few long gulps, the sweetened liquid running down your throat and washing away the salty taste of tears in your mouth.

“How are you,” he suddenly asked, his dark eyes watching carefully as you drank.

After a few sips, you put the bottle down and handed it to Yūji, who eyed it for a moment but waited for your reply.

“Been better,” you admitted. “Tonight was… a lot. But I’m not as badly injured as you – or possessed – so I can’t really complain.”

“Just because others are off worse than you, doesn’t mean you don’t have a right to feel terrible,” Yūji mumbled, chewing on his lower lip. “I know what you’ve seen. Even if it had just been a stupid tv show, or anime or something… the things we saw tonight are enough to give me nightmares for a lifetime. So, I understand how you feel. Don’t down-play it for my sake.” He lifted the bottle to his lips, finishing it as well, before looking back to you again. “I’m asking again. How are you?”

Trying to keep the tears at bay the shot into your eyes, knowing this time you’d have to confront these feeling inside your chest, pursed your lips before answering.

“Horrible,” you pressed out, sniffing.

Yūji nodded. “If you ever need anything, someone to talk to, someone to wake you up from a nightmare… I’ll always be there for you, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. And I’ll be there for you.”

“You already are,” he answered.

Neither of you mentioned when you handed him some cereal bar and he hesitantly brushed the tips of his fingers against yours as he took if from you, or how he grabbed your arm to pull you off the floor.

As you made your way back to the staircase that would lead you to the surface, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was important that it had been you, who had come looking for Yūji. You weren’t sure why, but then the backs of his fingers brushed against yours while walking. Instinctively you wanted to draw your hand away, after all you had agreed not to touch him. But then his pinkie brushed yours again, this time linking with it, and you relaxed. For the first time in hours a part of the tension fell away, and you dropped your shoulders, only focusing on the sensation of Yūji’s warm and rough skin against yours. Maybe he wasn’t ready for a hug, but this little bit of contact, contact initiated by him, was more than enough comfort.

At the foot of the staircase he stopped, bringing you to a stop as well.

“I need you, too,” he admitted, his huge, brown, with pain filled eyes glancing over at you for a moment. Confused you furrowed your brows, but then you understood he was referring to what you had said earlier. That you needed him.

You nodded in acknowledgement, taking a shaky breath when you realized that he was not only referring to the war with the curses you were about to face, but to himself generally. The same way you had meant it earlier.

Yūji gently squeezed your pinkie, and nodded back, before you both faced forward again. It would be a long way, to sitting down with Gojō-sensei and Megumi, eating food together, but you would get there, you knew it. And the first step you had to take was up this dusty flight of stairs, Yūji’s pinkie safely intertwined with yours.

#itadori yūji x reader #itadori yūji x you #itadori yūji x yn #itadori yūji x y/n #yūji itadori x reader #yūji itadori x you #yūji itadori x yn #yūji itadori x y/n #yūji x reader #yūji x y/n #yūji x yn #yūji x you #itadori x reader #itadori #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x yn #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x yn #jjk x y/n #mad jjk #jjk angst #mad angst #itadori yuji x reader #itadori yuji x you #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori yuuji x you #yuji x reader

[abimess]

Every witch gets a kitten

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You gift your best friend with her own familiar. [Requested]

Word count: 549 || Pronouns: not used 

Warnings: none

You do NOT have permission to repost or translate my work on any platforms (even with credit)

Halloween Special | Masterlist | Be notified of my stories

───── ⋅ ✮ ⋅ ─────

Wanda was suspicious from the moment you told her you had to show her something in your room - your grin every time you looked at her didn’t help ease her mind. 

When you finally reach your destination, you open the door for her theatrically, and the brunette narrows her eyes at you suspiciously before walking inside the bedroom, making you laugh lightly.

“What’s that?” Wanda asks with curiosity as she sees the white cardboard box laying on her bed, a bow as red as her magic framing it. “I got you a gift.” You tell her sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders, and the brunette feels her cheeks warming up furiously. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to get you a gift.” You roll your eyes playfully, nodding for her to go take the gift, and Wanda giggles shily before doing so. “Why is it all pierced? Did you stab it?” She asks with curiosity as she approaches her bed and notices the holes in the box.

“What? No!” You answer with a grimace as if it was obvious, your face turning dead pale a second later. “Oh my god, did you?”

“Of course not! I just saw it here.” The brunette argues with a laugh, her brows furrowed. “Oh, okay… Cool.” You say with relief and the witch giggles some more, finding amusement in your worried behavior.

You watch with anticipation as Wanda undoes the bow, lifting the lid slowly. “You got me a kitten?!” She asks, astonished, as she spots the small animal inside the box, taking it carefully in her hands. “Hi, kitten.”

Wanda pets the black cat as if it was the most fragile thing she’s ever held in her hands before. When the kitten lets out a tiny meow, she pouts in adoration, and you smile, unable to divert your thoughts from how beautiful she is. 

“A black kitten.” You remark, drawing her eyes back to yours. “Because you’re a witch, get it?” You tell her with humor and go on about how all witches in pop culture have a black cat. Wanda watches you with her heart about to explode inside her chest, an easy smile on her lips that only you are able to put there. 

“You’re so adorable, I love you.” The words slip out of her mouth before she can contain them, and as you cut your speech immediately, the brunette’s eyes widen in terror. “I-I mean, I don’t. Well, I do. But I didn’t mean to say it like that, you know? Well, I did, but-” 

Her clumsy attempt to fix her confession is cut short by you moving closer, and pecking her lips in a quick kiss. “Why did you do that?” Wanda asks, still in shock, holding the kitten against her chest for dear life. And you put your hand in your pockets, smiling at her as you tell, “you’re cute when you’re nervous.”

“Do it again.” The brunette asks despite her cheeks burning red, and you don’t need to be told twice, moving closer and capturing her lips in another kiss - this one with much more intent and in no hurry. 

“Oh, and in case you haven’t noticed, I love you too.” You pull away to say it, and her grin is all you see before you kiss her again.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x you

[steveharringtonat3am]

Intruder roleplay with Eddie

kinktober masterlist!!

pairing: eddie munson/fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: intruder roleplay (agreed upon, discussed), discussion of safewords, little dark but it's pretty tame tbh, bondage, degradation, oral (fem! receiving), penetrative sex, some sweet eddie aftercare

a/n: and that wraps up kinktober!! thank you sm for all the love and support you guys it genuinely means the world to me! stay tuned for some longer and hopefully better fics!!

When I first started dating Eddie, everything was perfect. He was kind, he was attentive, and he was everything you could possibly want in a boyfriend. And it helped that the sex was amazing.

But I could tell he was holding back.

It was small things that would tip me off. The way his fingers would twitch when he brushed a piece of hair off my neck. The way he would always hesitate to drop his belt when getting undressed for sex. One time I think he even enjoyed the time I had whimpered in pain after a papercut. I wanted to bring it up, but I didn’t know how. I mean, what are you supposed to say when you think your boyfriend wants to have rough sex and you also want to have rough sex but he doesn’t know that?

“Fuck…if I wasn’t so exhausted we would so go again,” Eddie mumbles into my skin, slightly out of breath from chasing his orgasm. I hum quietly as he kisses my cheek and gets up to clean himself up and throw out the condom.

“You alright babe? You’re not normally this quiet.” He pads back into the bedroom, dressed in some low-hanging sweats.

“I’m fine. Just…thinking.” He climbs into bed next to me, laying down on his side.

“Care to fill me in?”

“Well tomorrow is Halloween…maybe we could try something new?” The idea swirling in my head is one that I’ve fantasized about for far too long, but I had never been able to share it. But I feel safe with Eddie. So what’s the harm?”

“Something new?” I recognize that glint in his eye. It’s the same face he makes whenever I wear that tiny set of red lingerie.

“Y-yeah. Like…roleplay.” I look up at the ceiling the second the words leave my mouth. The last thing I want is to see him judging me.

“That sounds like fun, princess. Have any particular scenario in mind?” I turn to him, mostly to see if he’s joking and find him smiling, eyes full of excitement.

“Well…you c-could be like breaking in? While I’m home alone?”

“I see…you want the big bad robber to fuck you dumb huh baby?” His tone makes me squirm and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Y-yeah. If you want to!” This makes him laugh.

“Trust me, babe, I want to. But we’ve got to make a few things clear first.” He’s back to talking like normal, so I relax into him.

“Like what?”

“Well if you say stop or no, do you want me to listen? I promise that if you safe word I will absolutely stop but I want everything to be clear. I won’t be too rough with you but if you say yellow I’ll ease up okay?” I take a second to think before turning back to him.

“You don’t have to listen. I trust you, Eddie. You know me as well as I know myself. If you think I can handle it, then I can.” I smile softly at him and he relaxes.

“Alright. We’ll try it out tomorrow okay? Leave the door unlocked.” He winks at me and I grin.

“Anything for you Eddie.”

I was nervous. Realistically, I shouldn’t be. Eddie had been very clear before he left for work this morning. He would come in through the back door, which I had left open, threaten me a little, and then fuck me. I wasn’t too worried. But there was a small part of me that was hoping he would go off script.

So, I turned on a movie to distract myself. It’s not as easy to watch without Eddie to hold me and I quickly start getting paranoid.

“It’s just a movie” I mumble to myself as the killer creeps behind his unsuspecting victim. He raises his knife and right as it’s about to come down…

A hand tightly covers my mouth, while a strong arm begins tugging me over the couch. Immediately, I scream into the leather glove. My brain is in complete overdrive as terror fills my body. But once the sleep of his cologne hits my senses a part of me relaxes.

“Look at what we have here…” The voice is deeper than Eddie’s normal one, but I know it’s him. He doesn’t let up on his grip over my mouth as he drags me to the dining room table. This was new. I thought he would fuck me over the couch.

“You look so…perfect. Just had to have you.” We finally reach the table and he leans in to whisper in my ear.

“I’m going to take my hand away okay? I swear that if you make a single noise I’ll make this as painful as possible. But if you’re a good girl, you might even enjoy it. Clear?” I whimper quietly but he doesn’t take that as an answer.

“Clear?!” He says louder and I jump.

“Mhm!” I nod quickly, trying to turn at get a look at him. I get a glimpse of his pretty brown eyes peaking out through a black ski mask. He catches my eye and winks at me before shoving me face first into the table. He lets go of my jaw and I bury the urge to beg.

“Fuck…look at this ass.” He gropes me through the thin fabric of my pajama pants. I bite my lip as he tugs the fabric down, leaving me in a pair of baby pink panties.

His hand comes down hard, leaving a sting in its wake. I squirm against the tablecloth but he ignores me. He grabs my wrists and holds them together with one hand. I feel him pause for a second before feeling rope start to wrap around my wrists. He hadn’t mentioned anything about tying me up. He doesn’t tie it too tight but it makes me squirm all the same.

“Stop moving.” Eddie growls, gripping the flesh of my ass tightly. I nod weakly as he finishes tying my hands. He tugs my panties to the side and I feel his tongue run all over my pussy. I suck in a breath as he laps at me desperately.

“Taste so fucking good. Better than any goddamn candy.” He groans into me, pushing his tongue deeper. My hips jolt and I whimper into the table.

When he pulls away, I’m instantly making a noise of complaint.

Bad move.

“I told you to be fucking quiet!” He slaps my ass, hard. It makes me whimper, tears burning my eyes. He grips the spot tightly and I dig my nails into my palms. I’m so caught up in my whining that I almost miss the clinking of Eddie’s belt buckle. He was finally going to fuck me!

“Maybe you don’t deserve this…” He presses the head of his cock to my entrance and I moan automatically. But I don’t beg, waiting for him to say something.

“You might now. But I do.” He decides, before shoving his cock into me. I cry out but he ignores me. He sets a quick pace and I immediately moan loudly. Even with him being mean, sex with Eddie always feels incredible.

“Fuck!” He curses as he pulls me up and onto my toes. It gets him even deeper and my eyes roll back into my head. He fucks me hard and fast, hands gripping my hips tightly.

“You’ve got such a-such a tight pussy! Can’t wait to fill you with my fucking cum.” I can barely control myself at this point, my orgasm building and building. He grabs my hair and yanks me up, his chest pressed to my back, lips pressed to my ear.

“Go ahead baby. Cum all over my cock.” The rasp in his voice sends a shiver down my spine and before I know it, I’m cumming hard. It sends him over too and he groans, bottoming out to cum deep inside me.

He eases me onto the table, slowly untying my wrists while I try catching my breath. When I’m all untied, he helps me stand and lets me face him for the first time tonight. He’s abandoned the ski mask and his hair is a mess. But he still looks perfect.

“Hi sweetheart.” He mumbles, kissing my temple.

“Hi Eddie…that was fun.” I feel fatigue tugging at my eyelids so I let him lead me to the couch, clad in only my panties and his hellfire shirt.

“It was fun. Maybe we can do some more stuff like that, huh?” He lets me lay down on top of him, face pressed into the crook of his neck.

“Yeah…I’m tired though.”

“I’m sure you are. Go to sleep baby. I’ll be right here to keep you safe.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

hope you enjoyed!!

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things blurb #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #eddie munson x reader smut

[swaps55]

Prompt from the Big Place discord server: Write a short fic with the words 'terror,' 'ghost,' and 'haunt.'

Kaidan finds Shepard in the barn in front of Echo’s stall, surrounded by black fabric, wire, scraps of wood, and most worrisome, a can of black paint. A pumpkin sits on a haybale right outside the stall door. Echo sticks her head out the open window, supervising the whole thing. “Do I even want to know?” Shepard holds out an arm’s length of fabric, deep in thought. “I had an idea.” “I can see that. Hence my concern.” “They’re doing that ghost thing in town next week.” He waves the fabric like a bat. Echo throws her head up and snorts. “The Halloween parade, yes.” “I had an idea.” That much is apparent. Kaidan rubs Echo’s forehead. She promptly uses him as a scratching post. “I am very afraid to ask what that has to do with the horse.” “Gonna ride her without a head.” Kaidan parses this for a moment before arriving at the intended interpretation of that sentence. “You want to be the headless horseman.” “Yup.” Kaidan looks at the impromptu craft pile, then looks at Echo, who tries to lip at the pumpkin perched just out of reach. “Doesn’t the headless horseman have a black horse?” Shepard pauses what he’s doing and examines the very much not black Echo with a critical eye. “Yeah, you might be right about that. Do you think fence paint is safe for horses?” “No.” Kaidan picks the can up and puts it away, just to be safe. “Then I guess in this case, the headless horseman rides a red horse.” Shepard wraps the black fabric around himself with a flourish and waggles an eyebrow. “I need a cape. And a way to hide my head.” Kaidan rubs his forehead with his fingers. “Unbelievably, my mother has done this before, and might still have the rig somewhere in the hay loft.” Shepard grins the kind of grin that used to be reserved for the Mako. “Gonna haunt the shit out of that parade.” Well. The tiny town of Summerland is about to get a face full of Sam Shepard. Or...something like that. ~ The air is brisk on the 31st, but the skies are clear, and a larger crowd than usual turns out for the occasion, perhaps in no small part because the moment Shepard expressed interest in participating, they made him the grandmaster of the whole thing. 

The parade itself is simple but constructed with love. Locals, several who Kaidan recognizes, put the finishing touches on homemade floats and costumes. More than a few kids who have crept “backstage” to catch a glimpse of their hero wear hand crafted N7 armor. Shepard sits tall in his saddle, an admittedly impressive black cloak draped around his black breeches. Kaidan wonders if he even noticed that his mother stole it and stitched an N7 on the back. The black shirt he’s got on underneath will be on the floor as soon as Kaidan gets his hands on it, but that’s for later, when they aren’t in the middle of downtown, surrounded by families and kids in costume. For now, he holds a rein while Shepard makes his final adjustments.  “Well, how do we look?” Echo, stomps a bored foot and swishes her tail, ears hanging lazily to the side. The ornate black bridle and hefty black breastplate would look pretty intimidating if not for the clump of grass hanging out of her mouth. Kaidan reaches in to tug it out, and is rewarded with a smudge of green slobber. “Like a terror of the night.” “To hell we ride.” Shepard settles the headless rigging over his actual head. “Can you see anything?” “It’ll be fine,” he says, voice muffled. Echo snorts and attempts to root for a carrot in Kaidan’s back pocket. With Shepard, it sure will be something. Further down the street, an emcee announces their heralded haunted guest. The agreement had been that Shepard would parade at a brisk trot. Instead, he urges Echo into a gallop with a whoop. Together they streak down the road, a red comet with a black horseman, to the delighted roar of the crowd. 

#mass effect #mshenko #kaidan alenko #otp: after all this time #my fic

[littleacebee]

I need some spooky recommendations, audio drama folks. Last year I listened to Tiny Terrors on Halloween and this time I would also want to do something similar. However I don’t know what to listen to. So could you please recommend me some podcasts – spooky, not too scary, comedy welcome more than true horror, something that fits for Halloween listen, similar vibes to Death by Dying or Hello From The Hallowoods. Especially looking for something rather short so I could listen to it in one afternoon and evening.

Thank you in advance and happy Halloween!

#fiction podcasts #podcast recommendations #audio drama #horror podcasts #tiny terrors #death by dying #hello from the hallowoods

[acewithapaintbrush]

Happy Halloween

Marine number 47 cowers behind a much too small crate and prays to every deity he knows to save him. 

His crewmates have long since abandoned the ship. Or maybe they are dead. Who knows. Not Marine 47. 

Marine 47 had wasted no time. The second that infamous Jolly Roger had emerged from the fog with agonizing slowness, 47 had booked it. Had shoved past his equally terrified friends and superiors and had hid here, down below deck, behind a much too small crate in the ship's only cargo hold. 

Screams and shouts and rifle fire. 

And then silence. 

His breath is loud in the tiny space but not loud enough to drown out the rapid footsteps coming his way. 

tap tap tap tap tap. 

Fast. Joyful. 

Deadly. 

tap tap tap tap tap. 

Up and down the hallway. Passing the room he's hiding in once, twice, a third time. 

Maybe… maybe…. 

The door is thrown open and all the air seems to be sucked out of the room. 47 clutches at his chest, his heart is suddenly beating hard and fast to a rhythm he has no control over. It skips and jumps and beats against his ribcage and he wants to scream but he doesn't have the breath for even a whisper. 

He can see the rest of the room behind him. It's being mirrored in one of their canons standing upright at his feet. 

'Polish them until I can see myself in them', their admiral used to say. 

Bastard. 

Number 47 can see everything now and it's the last thing he wants. He can't close his eyes. When he tries, the beating of his heart vibrates in his eyeballs and it hurts. So he keeps them open and watches that… thing enter the hold. 

The canons are not perfect mirrors, so the figure is slightly distorted. Arms and legs longer than they should be, head misshapen. But 47 sees enough. He sees blinding whiteness and red eyes and a large grin. Sharp enough to bite clear through his jugular. 

The figure laughs, loud, jarring. Number 47 slaps his hands over his ears but it's futile. This laugh, it penetrates everything, every thought 47 might still have had other than terror. 

He closes his eyes. It goes bump bump bump behind his eyelids. He snaps them back open. 

"Yo!" 

Number 47 rears back and the crate seems to swallow him. It's not wood anymore. It's soft and malleable and 47 sinks into it. The thing crouches on top of the crate that is not a crate anymore and stares down at him, upside down. 

Red eyes stare out of a face framed by white clouds rocking in non-existent wind. The eyes are swirling with an unholy light, madness lies in them, a depth as deep as the deepest sea and just as dark. They dance, seem to jump from number 47's forehead to his nose to his chin and back again. 

They are the only light in the room. 

"Yo!" The thing, this otherworldly being, repeats, grin wide and threatening. "Why are you hiding in here? Are you a coward? Hahaha I hate cowards, you know?!" 

Number 47 shakes his head. He doesn't know why. 

The being cocks his head, humming, chuckling. "Your friends ran away! They were cowards too. What's your name?" 

Never tell them your name. Never give your captors information. 

Not even Gods devils. 

"Marine Nr. 47-3981. Infantry Beta Alpha 39-"

The being laughs and throws himself backwards, holding his stomach and rolling around on the floor. The floor turns into the sea, a rolling storm making 47 sick. "What a funny name! Omoshiroi!" 

He laughs and laughs and laughs and number 47 chokes on the matching laughter in his throat. He doesn't want to laugh. Nothing about this sound echoing off the walls is funny. 

It's terrifying. 

The being stops and sits up, blinking large eyes at his surroundings. "I better get Robin." he mutters, dreamlike, eyes staring at nothing. "She'll know what to do about you." 

The smile as he turns away is distracted, his thoughts already a mile away, the marine with the funny name nothing but a footnote in his journey not worth thinking about any longer. 

Marine number 47 doesn't know any of that. He doesn't know that he is nothing to a God. Doesn't know that he is about to walk out of this ghost story of his own making with nothing but hurt pride and some food to tide him over until he reaches the next island. 

Marine number 47 panics and hefts his rifle, pointing it directly at the back of the one being God man that could be his salvation. 

His finger curls around the trigger but before he can take proper aim something moves in the shadows behind him. A huff of breath hits his neck, hot and cold at the same time. The sound of steel sliding free almost gets lost under the oblivious God's easy humming. 

47 freezes, can only turn his head an inch. It's enough to witness his end. 

Green hair. Dark eyes. Golden earrings. 

"Bad idea." the demon growls and three swords descend upon their chosen victim. 

Marine number 47 only feels the first blade. 

#one piece #One piece fanfic #one piece halloween #gear 5 luffy #one piece gear 5 #gear 5 spoilers #Luffy is terrifying #Fitting for a god #But there is someone even more terrifying

[abhainnwhump]

It's Spooky Month so it's Time for Whump

(Content warnings: Body horror, noncon body modification, humiliation, food poisoning, torture, burning, general spooky stuff.)

Using Whumpee as a decoration. Mutilate them, dress them in ragged clothes, then hang them up with strings outside. - Let them be a victim of the elements and cold.

Burn Whumpee with the candle of a Jack-o-lantern. Either on accident, or have Whumper force their hand in it.

So many ways to use knives. When carving pumpkins, as part of a costume, for "the spirit".

You know those jelly-filled fake fingers and glazed eye treats? Real fingers and real eyes, covered with sugar.

Whumper forcing a scared Whumpee to watch horror movies, punishing them if they close their eyes or look away.

Creepy doll Whumpee. Dress them in a gothic dress, sew buttons in their eyes, and sew their mouth shut. Play with them as Whumpee is completely helpless, yet still conscious.

Whumper giving Whumpee candy that's either poisoned or has a tiny blade/nail in it. Or give them candy they're allergic too.

Dress Whumpee up in a humiliating costume. Laugh at them yourself or take pictures to show your friends!

Overfeed Whumpee candy to the point they get stomach aches and teeth damage.

Whumper dropping Whumpee off in a corn maze. Whumper dresses up like a horror movie villain and terrorizes them as they try to escape.

Ruin Halloween for Whumpee.

#whump #whump prompt #whump writing #whumpblr #whump tropes #spooky season #halloween #whump prompt list #noncon body modification #creepy whumper #body horror #sadistic whumper #food poisoning #abused whumpee #scared whumpee

[finniestoncrane]

You Should Be Scared

Arkham!Jonathan x Female!Reader, word count: 3.5k happy halloween! this is something i have wanted to work on for a looooong time so i just ramped up the concentration (and the lack of concern for my actual job) and went for it 🧡 i guess this is kinda crane pre-arkham events but like he's still the same monster we all love, and also fear toxin does what i want it to do! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: kinda sub/dom elements, fear play, dubcon if you squint hard enough, fear toxin used and a bit of manipulation because of that, choking, possessive jon, clingy and hard and breathy sex

The warm, comforting smell of coffee emanated from the kitchen of the dingey apartment Jon rented. He would tell you he chose it for its proximity to the university campus, making for an easier route to his lectures. In reality, you imagined it was because of the general aesthetic. From outside in, it was a space that whispered “haunted” in a menacing tone. Perfect for him, a man who for all intents and purposes was haunted himself, but who spun it around, wrapping those around him in fear and terror in a bid to expel it from himself. And while you were never on the receiving end of his more intense experiments into fear, he still liked to watch you get scared in ways that were innocent enough.

“Is coffee the right drink to have with a horror movie?”

“You’re welcome to have something else if you would rather.”

His monotone reply echoed through the apartment, which was furnished only in minimal furniture and piles of books which he tended to use as side tables for half-filled coffee mugs, lamps, notes, student essays, and sometimes the occasional vial of his latest batch of his fear toxin. Those little, almost glowing, orange jars drew your attention, and even without tasting it, without feeling it coarse through your veins, it still managed to scare you. And yet you were so curious. Curiosity killed the cat though, and the one time you had asked Jonathan if you could perhaps try it, he had scolded you for being so stupid and careless.

But maybe tonight was different? You were further into your relationship now, there was an established trust. And your sexual capers had begun to slow down given that you’d tried almost everything Jonathan had suggested without putting up much resistance. That was what worked between you, your equal desire and need for something different, something to push the line further, experimental, often violent, but passionate and careful. And when you gasped for air, eyes strained in pain, body twitching in borderline fear, that was where Jon found his pleasure. So perhaps for Halloween, just this once, he might indulge you.

Especially as it seemed that the whole point of bringing you here was to get a fright out of you. He had insisted that you come around and watch a horror movie with him. ‘It’s Halloween after all.’ And he knew how much you hated them, how they built your adrenaline up past the point of no return, kept you awake, nervous and fearful of what might lurk in the dark shadows. Although, you supposed, it might not be as bad if Jon let you stay over afterwards. Having someone to hold, even in this creepy apartment, would be better than being alone in your own, far more comfortable space.

He appeared in the doorway between the tiny lounge and the even tinier kitchen, struggling to carry both cups of coffee and the bowl of popcorn he now balanced between his chest and his arm. Standing up and rushing over, you grabbed the bowl and pressed a soft, quick kiss to his cheek, bringing a smile up on the corner of that side of his mouth. You let him pass first, placing the coffee cups on the table where there was space between the books and papers and other various mess. Sprawling his long, slender body along the sofa, he motioned at the space in front of him for you to come and make yourself comfortable. And once you’d set the popcorn within reach, you lay down in front of him, curled into his body, his arm reaching around you to press play, the screen flickering to life, his arm still around you, hanging languidly across your chest. He kissed the top of your head as the film began.

Despite it being the first horror movie you had watched in years, you found it quite palatable. Easy to digest. Several times during perhaps the slightly creepier or more tense moments, Jon had wrapped his arm around you tight, hand on your chest, you suspected to feel your heartbeat, and upon finding that it wasn’t as elevated as either of you would have thought, he asked if you were ok. The third time, you decided to go for it.

“I’m fine actually. This isn’t all that scary, at least it’s nowhere bad as I had prepared myself for.”

“Hmm.”

There was a distinct disappointment in his response.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine. I was hoping-thinking…that you would find this a bit more…”

“Scary?”

“Yes.” He leaned in to kiss your head again, offering it as a way of apology for what he realised was cruel intentions, to have you fearful and in his arms, shaking and nervous and begging for him to hold you and protect you.

“Maybe we can spice it up a bit?”

“And what might your suggestion be?”

“Well, if only there were something in this apartment that could heighten the fear response…something that would make anything more terrifying let alone a spooky movie…something orange and-”

“No.”

“Oh come on Jon!” You wriggled around until you were on your back and could look into his eyes. “The more you say no, the more I want it.”

“Because you’re a bit of a brat.”

You smirked, bringing your hand up to his face, letting your fingers trace a ghostly tingle on his cheek.

“Please? I know you’re disappointed by my lack of…response. What harm could a little bit do?”

“A lot.”

“How do you know?”

“…I made it.”

You clenched your hands into fists and shook them in front of your chest, making a little whine.

“Come on! Please, just once! And then I promise I will never ask again. Just…satisfy my curiosity. Two birds with one stone, we both get what we want.”

You could tell your words had made an impact. Beyond the surface of his eyes, you could see him thinking, considering for a moment if it was worth it for momentary pleasure and a lifetime of peace from you asking. Your word was your bond, he had no reason not to trust that you would break a promise. With one hand scooped behind your back he lifted you up and stood out from behind you, leaving the room, coming back moments later with a small glass vial filled with the familiar liquid.

Crouching in front of where you now sat on the couch, he took your face in his hand, chin resting on his palm, his fingers pressed tightly into your cheeks.

“I need you to tell me you want this.”

“I want this.” You pushed the words past his grip, still managing to smile a little despite the discomfort of his hold on you.

“You are aware of what this entails?”

You nodded.

“And you know that things will be warped, terrifying, that nothing will feel safe.”

“You’ll feel safe though…right?”

“Oh, my dear…I’ll be the worst.”

You swallowed your breath, eyes widening at the prospect of Jonathan becoming a terrifying entity. He smirked at you, lip curling into what could have been mistaken for a snarl. Fear simmered just under the surface, causing your blood to run cold, chilling your veins. But above it all, you could feel a deep heat in the pit of your stomach, nursing arousal as you stared into his eyes, unblinking, unfaltering in their stark honesty.

“I want this.”

Jonathan leaned forward, kissing you on the forehead as a soft chuckle rumbled through his chest and throat. Removing the top carefully, he held a slender finger to the opening of the jar, tipping it upside down swiftly and letting a drop linger on his skin, offering it to you, maintaining intense eye contact as you opened your lips, taking his finger in your mouth. He twisted it, placing the tip on the back of your tongue and dragging the digit down the length of it, waiting for you to close your lips before removing it completely as you sucked it. He laughed, one quick inhale and exhale through his nose, hand on your cheek, thumb brushing over your cheekbone as he looked intently into your eyes, not lovingly, but monitoring your pupils for any slight changes to suggest that the dosage had indeed been enough for at least a partial reaction.

Jon made his way back into his position on the sofa, easing you in front of him and holding you closer than before. His fingers dug softly into your skin, tight enough that you knew he was wary of the coming effects. For a while, it didn’t feel like he had anything to worry about. The movie was still boring, and you felt safe, comfortable, warm with Jonathan behind you, his arms wrapped around your body. And then you noticed something out of the corner of your eye.

Something in the shadows moved, or did the shadow itself start jittering? Twitching like fraying static just beyond the edge of your perception. When you weren’t focused on it, it flicked and danced, but when you tried to look at it, having to build up the courage each time, it stopped as your eyes landed directly on it.

Just focus on the movie instead.

But that was worse. Where before it had been an easy watch, a little bit of a thrill, now it seemed like it was warping in time with your heartbeat, your increased terror, like the film was being acted, directed, shot and produced in real time, each frame becoming something different, in tune to your exact fears in the moment. You shuddered, body completely on edge, so tense that the most minor of touches, the slightest of movements in your peripheral or on the screen in front of you caused you to jump.

Jonathan had noticed, of course, whether or not you were fully aware that the effects had taken hold. When you backed up into him, body closer to him that before, he had known it. The way you now curled into him, soft thighs against his, your warm back against his front, your rear crooked against the angle of his crotch. Every slight motion you made only heightened the tension, and he delighted in the friction between your bodies. That your natural reaction was to seek in him the safety your body now craved only served to make him desire more cruelty, and the thought alone was enough to have him hardening into you. But you didn’t seem to notice, or you didn’t care. For you, there were far worse things to be concerned about right now.

The illicit pleasure he seemed to be gaining from the way your body twitched into his was driving him mad. He held off touching you as long as he could, hoping to prolong the anticipation, but also trying to starve you of the physical attention that might calm you down. But as you whined and moaned in fear, he salivated, desperate to be a part of your nightmare. With one hand, he reached and gripped your arm, a sudden movement that made you scream, covering your face with your hands and shuddering, breath hitching with each shallow intake, whimpering in absolute horror.

“It’s just me. Did you forget I was here?”

His voice was calm, not soothing, but almost cold.

“No.”

“You’re shaking.”

“Yes.”

He ran his palm up the length of your arm, fingers lingering as he moved his hand from you.

“Are you cold, or frightened?”

“Both.”

“Would you like to move closer to me?”

You hesitated, unsure of what you wanted at this moment. Realistically, you wanted the noises to stop, the room to sit still and for the shadows to stop their relentless march towards you, encroaching on your space and threatening to consume you until everything, everything, was darkness.

“I don’t know.”

“Turn around, please.”

You did, but you kept your hands clasped firmly over your face. Your body jerked violently as you felt his palms over yours, fingers intertwined delicately to pull them away, leaving your face uncovered. But you kept your eyes shut tight, even as you felt Jonathan’s fingertips graze over your cheek, thumb resting on your lip.

“Will you open your eyes?”

“No, no no no…no…”

“Why won’t you look at me?”

There was no emotion behind the question, nothing. He knew he wasn’t going to be hurt by the answer. In all of his previous tests, the subjects had decided that living, and possibly dying, by the unknown was better than facing whatever monsters their poisoned mind was conjuring up.

“Because…you said you would be terrifying.”

His laugh, soft and almost mocking, echoed deep in your ears, repeating, hollowing, sending shivers down your spine.

“You won’t know that until you look at me. Wasn’t the point of this to be scared? Didn’t you want this?”

“You wanted it. I wanted it because you wanted it. You like it when I’m scared.”

He sighed, deep. Staring at the ceiling and away from your face, knowing you weren’t about to open your eyes and look at him any time soon.

There were a multitude of factors to consider. As a professor, a researcher, a scientist, he knew the ethical thing would be to cease interactions, to attempt to isolate you safely and securely, provide you with comfort, a blanket, warmth, something soothing. And yet, he sat there, hand on your still trembling body, increasingly aware of his stiff cock, twitching in response to your whines, begging for release, fully aware that this was the exact scenario he had dreamt of. He palmed at it through his trousers, seething at the touch, hissing through his gritted teeth at the realisation of how desperately he needed to exploit the situation.

With his free hand, he gripped your jaw, turning it up towards him as he looked at you, waiting for you to look back.

“Open your eyes.”

“Jonathan…”

“You know I want this, and you wanted to give it to me. You don’t want to deny me now, do you?”

“No!”

“Then look at me.”

You counted to three in your head, finally able to actually open your eyes closer to about seven, breathless and speechless at the apartment. A hellscape, everything moving, swirling almost, the shadows vicious, teeth sharp and claws ragged, reaching for you, you could feel their breath, the scent of their rotten fangs as they dragged themselves along the surfaces, inching closer and closer-

“I love that you suffer for me.”

It took a few seconds before you were finally able to focus on the source of the sound. Jonathan, positioned before you, completely unaffected, like a beacon of sanity, security, in the nightmare landscape you found yourself in.

“What are you scared of most?”

There was a lot. That answer was complicated at the best of times, but right now there were a myriad of possibilities to choose from, each one somehow worse than the last, but delivering themselves to you in a never-ending circle where it spiralled out of control, to a feverish, screeching, chaotic shambles. But the brightness, the little hope you found in his face.

“Losing you.”

“You’re afraid to lose me?”

“Please, Jonathan…”

His grip on your jaw loosened, hands gripping your arms instead and easing you into a more upright position, body clumsily angled into his to share the space on the sofa where you had willingly committed yourself to this mercifully, hopefully, brief insanity.

“And you won’t lose me, if you can do what I want.”

Your eyes darted back and forth, trying to focus on where the first attack on you would come from, but Jon’s hand pulled you back to him.

“If you want them to stop, you have to do as I tell you. Understand?”

“Please, yes.”

“Good.”

You’re focus is still on the shadows, but you’re aware of his hands, firm against your body, dragging their way down your sides and lingering on your hips, tugging at the clothes on your bottom half, until you could feel the cool, stifling air of the apartment against your dimpled skin. As he cupped your rear, fingernails pressed deep into the cheeks, the shadows seemed to dissipate, ever so slightly, but noticeably. Enough that you placed your own hands over his and held him closer, encouraging the grip he had on you. Jonathan was the cure to his own toxin, and you needed more of him.

Clambering against him, you managed to position yourself over his lap as he shifted himself into a seated position to accommodate you. His crooked smile, dripping onto his face as you ground down on him, feeling his cock pressed against your open, almost soaking cunt felt like a light in the darkness. With your hands on his shoulders, you pushed him back against the sofa, lips hard against his, the vulnerability you felt at your exposed back quickly soothed as he held you around, scratching down your spine, one hand moving away only briefly to unzip his pants and free himself. Not bothering to wait at all, he teased at your lips with the smooth, wet tip of his head, guiding himself in and grunting as you enveloped him, sliding gracefully down onto him to take his entire length within you.

Still though, despite now having him as close as you possibly could, the shadows crept forward again, lurching at you, tongues flicking wildly in an attempt to taste the flesh they hoped to consume. You screamed, fear or pleasure, it was hard to tell, but for Jonathan it amounted to the same feeling. He bucked his hips, forcing himself into you over and over, deep enough inside that you could swear to feel it in the bottom of your stomach.

Your body, vibrating in terror, witnessing horrors you knew could not be imagined, gave way to a bizarre modicum of pleasure as you stretched for him, tightening against his length, thighs hitting his as he rutted up and into you harder and faster. As he thrust himself against your body, you closed your eyes again, trying to will away the fear, trying not to be terrified when you had Jonathan below you, around you, inside of you.

“Look at me.”

His words were forced through a clenched jaw, his hands suddenly on your throat, holding it tight, the grip only strengthening when your eyes strained open, looking into his for a sign of safety, or mercy. With a forceful hold on you though, he kept you steady as he bounced your body hard on top of him, spit frothing behind his teeth, eyes blank as he looked back at you, offering you nothing in way of a look that told you it might be ok.

But you held on, aware that it felt good, and nothing in the past hour or so since you had lapped at the toxin on his finger had felt anything short of horrifying.

“Are you scared?”

Through a struggled breath you managed to choke out a yes.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Please…don’t…”

“Do better.”

“Fuck me, Jon. Please don’t stop. Please fuck me.”

The hand around your throat loosened it’s grip lightly, only to tense again, fingernails marking little crescents in the skin, blood vessels lightly showing on the surface in tiny red and purple spots. He breathed heavily, the exhales shaking, covering up the words he was whispering underneath that you couldn’t make out. The tension building in your abdomen, in your blood, exacerbated by the fear induced adrenaline, pushed you over the edge, whining and losing your balance as you kept being fucked by Jonathan, who ignored your own climax in favour of chasing his own.

It was short-lived after you came though, the feeling of your slick dripping down his shaft, pooling, sticky on his abdomen, the scent of you, the crude sounds as he pressed himself in and out against your wet folds. With a tight grip on your throat and his other hand threatening to bruise your hip, Jonathan spilled his seed inside of you, pumping the last few drops as he kept forcing himself into you, relishing the mess he was making of you both, holding you down and close to him, still inside of you, as he caught his breath.

Your forehead lay on his shoulder, eyes still tightly shut in fear of what might be there if you looked, but you felt ever so slightly safer in Jonathan’s lap, the warmth of his cum dripping down your thighs a reminder that you were in the present moment, protected by him as long as he kept a hold of you.

He brought his hand to the back of your head, holding it as he stroked his fingers through your hair, easing you into sanity once more as the effects of the toxin wore off, the release of adrenaline helping the symptoms to subside.

The dosage was perhaps wrong. Maybe a smaller droplet next time. And it might be more interesting to have you unaware of your consumption before the events unfold.

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