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ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 2 years

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Scooby-Doo but make it a ghost story.

(Just hear me out, trust me, I swear it’ll make sense-)

3k words

A man shows up with a paper with an empty signature line, asking you to sell whatever you have left and leave the premises.

He’s not the first to try and tell you to get off your own land, and you doubt he will be the last, but you’ve dealt with his kind before--trim, pristine suits and loud voices speaking big words and legal jargon that still makes your head spin even after the piles of research you’ve done to keep this from happening--so despite his confident posture and degrading sneer, you’re not frightened by him.

You turn him away like the others, and he spits and curses and stomps his feet, giving a tantrum worthy of the most red-cheeked toddlers you’ve seen in your store, piling on threats of how you’ll regret it before storming off. While it is always a bit worrying to have these types pay you a visit, you know the land is yours until you can’t sustain it any longer; and although your business is small, it will take a long while before that will happen.

At least until the word haunted starts spreading through the halls.

You first hear it when you’re re-stocking some shelves near the front. The couple is scurrying out in agitated whispers about ghosts and ghouls and generally unpleasant things accompanied by a stream of vulgar language directed at whoever owned this establishment.

It’s odd, but you don’t think much of it outside of a curious glance at the young cashier who started work here a few weeks ago. He does nothing but shrug to express that his confusion aligns with your own, and you both brush it aside without much thought.

Two days later, he hands in his resignation, pale and a little shaky, nearly running out of the shop the moment he gets the chance.

You find out he was on the closing shift last night, and wouldn’t speak to anyone the next morning until he could get out of there. One of the employees says she heard him feverishly mutter something about ghosts.

It’s worrisome but you get back to work as best you can, trying not to let it bother you.

The next employee who leaves is much louder about it.

You hear it again: GHOSTS. HAUNTED.

Cursed.

You take in a shaky breath, then a couple more to collect yourself before turning to reassure your remaining employees. There’s not many of them. Most of them are kids from homes nearby, just working the hours they could to save for college or to move away. Not all of them are frightened, and they brush aside the others, but even so, you close the shop an hour earlier now so that no one has to stay after dark.

As the winter season comes, that becomes earlier and earlier until everyone is out by four o’clock.

Still, it’s no use. Word spreads like wildfire in small towns, gossiping to tourists too. Some ghost hunters drop by to try their luck but they’re always out by morning or gone completely to goodness knows where. You simply hope they left in a panic and not something else.

You try the police and they find nothing. You hire a detective who runs away yelling about how they don’t deal with ghosts, and all that money is down the drain. You watch as the price of your small business drops and drops until you’re eating strictly canned foods, ramen and the cheapest cereal you can find to try and scavenge for any spare penny you can. Your neighbour tells you again and again that it isn’t worth it and you should just sell. Any employees that remained left quickly, off to find a job that could pay them better than you could until it was just you and your baby cousin left at the till. She’s barely old enough to be working, and there are jobs that pay better out there, but she stubbornly keeps restocking the shelves and ringing up the till whenever stragglers or loud curious teens find their way into the shop. She refuses to leave you.

You try to deal with the problem yourself. You really do. After your cousin goes home for the night you stay, hidden behind boxes with an old bat and wait for whatever it was that was harassing your staff, but when you see it you’re paralyzed. It floats past, eerie, silent, a horrible gaping face, unearthly glow about it, and no sound of footsteps or creaking wires to betray it as a fake. You try to tell yourself it must be fake. It must be. You hide clutching the bat like your life depends on it and shaking like a leaf in the freezing autumn wind gusts. The glow from the thing is greenish as it floats past the boxes you’re hidden behind. Your heart pounds in your ears and goosebumps rise on your arms as it pauses over the boxes. You think for a moment this might be where you die and then it’s floating on before vanishing through a wall.

You run from the shop as fast as you can all the way home and lock every door and window. You stay up all night pressed against the wall, halfway under your covers, sitting up, bat still clenched in your hands. You’re only able to get some sleep when the sun rises a bit.

You follow the path that the ghastly thing took during the opening hours of the shop, finding no trace of it ever existing. Your hands still hurt from how tightly you had clenched the bat all night.

It scared you. Enough to close the doors even earlier.

It was near impossible to keep things running when you could only safely keep the shop open barely half the day. You knew the next time a man with a paper came to the door you wouldn’t be in a position to refuse.

It’s around that time you hear about a group that deals exclusively with your type of problem. Ghosts, goblins, ghouls, witches, warlocks, werewolves, demons; helping people who no one else would help.

You’re desperate. So you grab what remains of your savings and get in your rickety car that you’re honestly surprised still works at this point and go to find them.

They’ve set up shop in a small building on the corner of a street in a town you’ve never heard of.

Mystery Inc. is painted across an old van parked out front and the sign on the door. It’s colourful, almost silly. It doesn't fill you with much confidence but you’re desperate, and the bright colours do at least make you smile.

A young man shakes your hand when you enter the door, polite, not commenting on your haggard appearance--nonstop driving and energy drinks for an amount of time you didn’t really want to think about probably did a number on the circles under your eyes. You’re pretty sure your hands were shaking from the caffeine. He warmly welcomes you in and introduces himself as Fred.

A young red-headed girl in heels-- fifteen? Sixteen perhaps?-- takes your hand and helps you sit down in a seat near a desk and before you know it there’s a blanket over your shoulders and a warm cup of some non-caffeinated tea in your hands. At this point it tastes like nothing more than hot water but it does wonders to stop your hands from shaking.

The dog startles you; a massive Great Dane, a little dopey looking with a brightly coloured collar. It's sitting at a table in the corner with a very scrawny looking teen, peach fuzz on his chin and a shirt that must be a few sizes too big judging by the way that it hangs off his wiry frame. There’s a large array of foods on the table in front of them, but they’ve paused their snacking to wave at you. Both the teen and the dog. You wave back and that seems to satisfy them enough for them to tuck back into their meal eating more like what you’ve seen black holes in movies consume things like. It’s 3am. You try not to stare.

The sound of a chair sliding draws your attention and a different freckled young lady sits down in front of you and adjusts the thickest glasses you’ve ever seen.

They’re children, you realize after a moment. Teenagers. Hardly older than your cousin. Their clothing seems a little out of style, but pristine considering they looked like something your grandparents would wear. Clothes were nicer back than anyways, and you have your fair share of hand-me-downs so you don’t comment or think about it much.

They ask you what brought you here and you do your best to share. It feels like mad ramblings but under their watchful eyes and attentive ears you find yourself relaxing at least a bit. It’s a strange situation and you apologize numerous times, how odd it is to be going to children half your age for help, but they do little more than brush the apology aside with a wave of their hands and a reassuring pat to your shoulder.

“Well…” says Fred, stroking his chin thoughtfully, “it’s not much to go off of, but we’ll see what we can do.”

They drive you home and you sleep in the back of the van with the massive dog and the scrawny teen. They wake you up only to ask for directions and you give them as best you can in your sleep deprived state.

Somehow they reach the shop by morning, which feels unreal when it took you three days to get to their office, but you count your blessings rather than question them and invite the group inside, figuring you must have just been more lost than you realized on the way there.

The dog and the scrawny teen (Shaggy, you think they call him, and you’re inclined to agree) are always searching for some kind of food. They raid your shop’s back fridge and you don’t bother to stop them since there’s not much in there anyways, and they seem half-starved despite the large meal you saw them consume back at their headquarters. They find more than you thought you had in there and carry it all out in an impressive stack that they consume in mere seconds. You don’t have much to pay them for the job they’re doing, so you don’t bother stopping them from raiding the snack shelves at the front counter either.

You show Fred and the girls the back room where things happen. You introduce them to your cousin who they politely ask some questions too. It’s clear they’ve done this before. Any inquiries are straight to the point, they share with you what they find. You get the strangest feeling they’ve been doing this for decades with how confidently they walk around a supposedly haunted shop.

Velma, the freckled one with glasses, throws around some large words you don’t understand with some pale green dust on the end of her finger. Their first clue, which Fred seems excited about. He suggests they head back to the van to take a drive around town for further investigation while she runs tests on the substance found in the shop.

Shaggy makes a comment about being hungry and Scooby nods his head. The ground is littered with snack wrappers and you make a note to clean those up.

Daphne, the one who patted your hand and gave you tea looks a little lost, simply floating around after the others and nodding along with the clues they find until Fred mentions heading out, then she quickly takes charge directing them out to the van. They bid you a goodnight, telling you to get some more sleep and they’ll handle the rest.

You worry about them but your cousin agrees and shoos you home.

The next morning comes after a restless sleep and they’re still there. You aren’t sure whether you’re relieved or worried over that fact. They stayed in the shop overnight, they report. Shaggy and Scooby are quaking but the others look unphased.

“Terrifying! Big ugly green face, a g-g-g-GHOST!”

Scooby gives a mournful ruff in agreement in something that sounds almost startlingly close to real words.

Velma sighs. “Shaggy, Scooby, there’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“Oh yeah? How’d you explain tall, floaty and creepy, huh?”

“Wires most likely. Glow in the dark paint. A costume.”

Shaggy and Scooby shake their heads in unison.

You’re just glad they’re alright.

“You don’t have to do this,” you tell them. It breaks your heart but the little old shop isn’t worth the lives of four teenages and their large puppy.

“It’s our job,” Fred tells you with a cool, comforting hand on your shoulder. “Trust us. I have a plan. And, after our investigation around town, I get the feeling we might already know who this ghost of yours is.”

It seems impossible but you and your baby cousin do your best to help them set up a rather elaborate trap. It’s confusing to you, but the others seem fairly confident in Fred’s direction.

They ussher you out for your own safety, ignoring your protests of “what about yours?” and tell you to wait until they call you back.

You do. Nervously pacing your house. Your baby cousin’s asleep at the table. It’s been a long few days so you’re not surprised, even if she made a valiant effort to stay up with you, it was only a matter of time before it caught up to her. You throw a blanket over her but decide against moving her to the bed, she’s a light sleeper and you don’t want to wake her.

You don’t chew your nails often, but they’re bitten down to the skin by the time your phone rings. It makes you jump and you answer it in a mad scramble, nearly dropping your phone in the process.

There’s a lot of white noise and garbled static that makes you wonder if it was a butt dial until you recognize snatches of Fred’s voice speaking out from the mess telling you it was safe to come out now.

You have just enough thought to shake your cousin awake so she isn’t left behind at your place, and the two of you race over to the shop together. Your heart’s pounding and worry runs rampant. It was impossible to tell Fred’s tone over the garbled static, but you pray that nothing went wrong and that they are alright.

You arrive to the ghost that has been terrorizing your shop, tied up on the ground with the four teens and Scooby standing over it. It’s strange to see something that phased through a wall restrained by ropes and you can’t help but keep your distance, still unsettled, even in the daylight. Its wide gaping jaw and empty eyes still looked too-real.

But the group stood by it like it was nothing and the police arrived a few moments later, having been called by the teens shortly after they’d contacted you.

It was a costume. Fake. As they said. The mask was tugged off and you recognized it as your neighbour, the one who had been so insistent you sell.

The group takes turns explaining how they came to the conclusion, what led to the capture, the motivation behind it. It feels practiced and comfortable for them as they spin the story and explanation. You hardly hear a word, just relieved that it was over.

An officer pulls you aside to get your testimony and you want more than anything for them to be gone. They ask you about your involvement, and you inform them of the bare minimum, directing them to the teens, who seem to know much more than you do at this point, but when you go to point them out you find them missing. Van and all. Somehow having already pulled out of the driveway and driven away without anyone noticing.

You give the name Mystery Inc. and show the traps if only to get them out faster and eventually they leave after relentless grilling. You would have preferred to keep them out of this entirely but it was necessary to get rid of your “ghost”. The one that turned you away when you asked for help doesn’t seem at all remorseful and it rubs you the wrong way so you don’t bother to bid any of them goodbye.

You sleep for a few days before you get back in your car and drive to Mystery Inc.’s office. You never did agree on a price but you have an envelope with some cash inside of it and more than anything you want to thank them for what they did for you. Your cousin is in the passenger's seat next to you. It takes another three days to find the office again, but eventually you do.

You don’t recognize it at first; it was impossible too. The colourful sign declaring it the home of Mystery Inc. hung sideways, barely hanging on to the front of the building; the colours washed out and so weathered you couldn’t make out the text on it anymore.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” your cousin asks. She’s clutching the envelope in her hands.

You step out of the car feeling like you’ve pulled up into another world. The windows are smashed, the front steps are falling apart, the building’s even leaning, the door at an odd angle on its hinges; the kind of wear and tear that could only come from years of erosion.

You shoulder your way in through the front door, kicking up dust when you finally get it to move. It swings open violently, screeching on rusted hinges.

The desk is where you remember it, but it’s coated in dust.

It’s completely abandoned.

No one had set foot inside for years by the looks of it. Except…

You feel a chill run down your spine as your eyes fall on a single set of footprints that match your own shoes, tracking back to a chair where an old moth-eaten blanket looked like it hadn’t moved in ages and a cracked cup that still has some liquid in it.

Your cousin calls to you and you glance back at her.

She seems unsettled and you can’t imagine the expression on your own face right now.

Ghosts aren’t real, you remember Velma saying, and the hair on the back of your neck stands up.

You leave the envelope on the desk and drive home in silence. You drop your cousin off at home, bidding her goodnight before heading to your own house.

Neither of you say it.

You dare to look them up and find Mystery Inc. doesn’t exist. At least not anymore.

You don’t sleep much that night, the memory of Fred’s cold reassuring hand on your shoulder replaying over and over in your mind.

Shaggy and Scooby’s candy wrappers are still in the pockets of your jacket, you meant to throw those out. You wonder if they’re still hungry; If they’re ever not hungry.

The shop becomes rather popular after the incident. Prim men and woman at your door with papers aren’t a threat any longer and you turn them away with ease, a flood of customers at your back.

The police don’t contact you about it. How could they? They saw them too. They took testimonies from them themselves. You can imagine what it must have felt like to find the town Coolsville they said they had come from no longer exists and neither do they.

Your cousin moves away to go to college eventually but she still keeps in contact. She says her classmates tell her she has the best ghost stories.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” a friend of yours says.

One of the wrappers is still in your pocket, even years later.

“Sure,” you say. And try not to think about it.

When they need help you give them the name Mystery Inc.

A few days later they’re less keen to tell you ghosts aren’t real.

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the-last-doppelganger · 6 months

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It was probably a bad idea to come out to this part of the woods alone, Elena thought as she rubbed her palms along her arms, attempting to feel warm.

The party was going on in another part of the woods, ghost stories that everyone was attempting to tell in an attempt to set the mood for Halloween. Elena had more than story that could chill most people to their bones, but she didn’t think of those now.

She’d drifted away from the party because she was upset, now that she was alone, deep in the woods however, she just wanted to find a way to go back. Just as she turned however, she heard the soft crunching of leaves, and with a jolt and a rush of her heart, realised she wasn’t alone anymore.

Halloween themed open starter!

#open starter #in honour of spooky season #elena definitely shouldn’t be alone in the woods #but she is #but not too alone

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preacherboyd · 2 years

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Hannibal | 1x01 Apéritif

#will graham #hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal 1x01 #hannibaledit #tor gifs #i haven't watched this show since i was in high school #never finished it (a shame i know. i saw like maybe 5 eps as they were airing)#now im watching with my dad in honour of spooky season!#love it so far!#this was a pretty shot in particular

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letthebookbegin · 7 months

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Choose Your Own Adventure

Things happen in threes, people always seem to say. Well, so far today you've been yelled at by your manager and soaked by the ol' reliable collaboration of a bus and a puddle, and you quite fancy passing out in your bed so you're fully unconscious by the time the third thing manages to find you. You look down as you fumble with your keys and pause - there's a rumpled bouquet shaking on your doorstep, clearly blown out of someone's arms with the wind.

#i never comtinued the other choose-your-own-adventure story i started but now i know how to reblog with polls so we're off!!#im gomma have fun deciding the character's personality based on the options that win #& will also try and make this a lil spooky in honour of the season #flexing those atrophied writing muscles let's go folks!!!#*#mine #spooky cyoa #wow thwres a lot of typos in these tags #as long as theyre not in the main post idc 😌

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gloriesunsung · 2 years

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#music #playlist #in honour of the BEST month this earth can offer us #spooky season #Spotify

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simp4konig · 6 months

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Halloweens with König headcannons 🎃🍂

Gender-neutral Reader

*Slow burn

Word Count: ~3246

*FLUFFFFFFF😿😿💖✨🩷🩷💘

*Soft König☺️ (but also König is a smug bastard + asshole 🙄), Established relationship, Single mention of (ambiguous) age gap 😮‍💨

🧡Happy Halloween guys!!🧡 I don't celebrate Halloween myself , but im feeling 😈in the mood😈 so i hopw this can suffice for this ooky kooky spooky season 😰😰

Gos i wanna kms ive veen so uninspirws AAAHAHAHAHDHDHDDH this is literslly. Me rn--->💥💥💥💥💥🙂🔫 fuckijg FINALLT GOT sometjing OUT 🥳🥳 rest asusred iwont kms i need to finish my rqs first ☺️💖💖✨ i will feel SO euphoric when all the WIPS will become Completed Works !! 😍😍Im just gonna not post until i gdt smth donw bci hate giving false promises its the same as lyijg,🗿🗿

Tag List ♡ @simpforkonig ♡ @abysslovesyou ♡ @puff0o0 ☆ @rustic-guitar-notes ☆ @happy-mushrooms ♡ @reyner-lee ☆ @lotionlamp ♡ @trepaika ☆ @luci4theminorannoyance

...

König wasn't really one for Halloween.

Hadn't ever been, really, as he hadn't been raised to celebrate it.

In his household, he hadn't had much exposure to the Western "Hallow's Eve".

Besides, even if he was familiar with the tradition, his parents didn't bother celebrating those kinds of trivialities; after all, they certainly weren't going to bother wasting hard-earned money on trifles like pumpkins, just so they'd rot on the front porch, or candy that would rot your teeth, or on vulgar masks that depicted serial killers and monsters, too blasphemous to bear.

Plus, his neighbourhood didn't partake in "Trick-or-treat'ing" at all, and wouldn't leave any candy for any children — wouldn't do anything, really.

Nobody decorated their house with ghouls and ghosts, nobody dressed up as vampires or murderers, nobody jumped from behind corners to shout "Boo!".

None of that, as these ideas were childish. Infantile. Juvenile, even.

Thus, October 31st, König's Austrian villiage was quiet. So eerily quiet you'd had thought it was a ghost town had it not been for hundreds of cloaked figures in the cemetary — as, for König, "Halloween" tended to be a more sombre occasion in comparison to the American/English versions.

Instead of running around and knocking on people's doors with a broad, lopsided smile like other children ought, he was brought along to visit the graves of his family members: graves of his ancestors, which he'd be told about in detail, details of the person buried six feet under the stone slab; information and stories passed down from generations.

He would be taught to honour those deceased in his family and respect their memory, to remember those in the afterlife and what they sacrificed to get there.

Carrying a lamp, he'd light candles on those decrepit gravestones, text faded and illegible, while his parents left boquets of flowers, and pulled up their long black cloaks. Silently paying their respects.

While it wasn't necessarily a day of mourning — König never needed tissues to wipe any tears or blow his nose, and neither did anyone else in the family — it was far graver when compared to the Halloween holidays elsewhere.

However, König's memories of Halloween were few, far, and in-between.

Whenever he'd hear of other people's experiences, he was never nostalgic, as, the times that he did attend those familial ceremonies he was either too young to understand what was happening, or knew too little of the deceased[s] in question to be moved by the heavy atmosphere.

Not only that, but the time period was overwhelmingly solemn, with people flooding the burial grounds, some murmuring prayers, others with tears in their eyes.

There was no laughter, no treats, no fun costumes. Not even tricks. Just suffocating depression all around.

So, he didn't really associate the celebration with something to celebrate: what, celebrating the deaths of your family? That was quite morbid, when he thought about it, and he wasn't going to dedicate an entire month every year to remind himself of death with so many other operators around him falling on the battlefield, and having had faced the grim reaper himself several times already.

Hence, every 31st of October, he did nothing. Didn't acknowledge it at all.

But all that changed one fateful day in September. When he finally acknowledged it, all right (with a little of your help of course)!

You had asked König in passing if he had considered dressing up as something for Halloween. Maybe what he had considered doing on the evening. Or if he had plans to attend the autumn fair sometime soon.

His response? A blank look. Distant recognition.

For a quiet moment, you thought he was scowling at you, silently ridiculing your childish suggestion.

Then: "Halloween? Ah!" An amused chuckle, endeared by the child-like curiosity in your eyes, and a silent sigh of relief from you.

"I don't celebrate it, myself, meine liebe. But you're welcome to tell me what your costume is. I'd love to hear all about it, maus."

Mortified by this revelation, you couldn't let this go.

"What do you mean you "don't celebrate it"? You have got to be joking!"

Wide eyes, and jaw agape, you were in disbelief.

He simply shook his head with a strained smile. "I've just never seen it as something to celebrate, you know? No reason to."

Taking it upon yourself to prove him wrong, you wasted no time converting this skeptic into a believer. "Oh no, there is. I mean, it's Halloween! Everyone is crazy for it!"

Suddenly, your eyes lit up. A wave of adrenaline crashing into you, you tugged König's arm in direction of the couch.

"That's where we'll start! We're gonna watch Halloween! That'll surely get you in the spirit."

You winked at him, satisfied. Then, a sudden snort and a suppressed chortle, hand cupped over your mouth as you laughed at your pathetic attempt at a joke.

König cocked his head to the side in confusion, but let you hastily scramble for blankets, pillows, and to microwave bowls of popcorn, as he made himself comfortable on the couch cushions that sank in protest under his weight.

Initially, he was reluctant. Not necessarily looking forward to being forced to watch movies from the 80s–00s, over-the-top movies with subpar acting, to say that he was looking forward to it would have been a stretch.

However, seeing how passionate you were about the holiday, your interests, König didn't want your sweetness sour.

Yes, he was a little older than you, and perhaps didn't grasp what there was to fuss over, but he wasn't about to spoil your good mood, or dampen that excitement just because he didn't personally understand or was interested personally. He wanted to make an effort, for you.

Vowing to take part in your silly shenanigans, he swore to become involved in the festivities in order to see you smile. To keep seeing you smiling.

After that, every October evening you'd watch a movie — a (usually) corny horror classic, though spending most nights binging all the Screams, Halloweens, Chuckys, The Shinings, Saws, and Evil Deads, — huddled under moutains of blankets and stuffing your faces with toffee-flavoured popcorn.

Watching horror films with him was like being lectured on common-sense and taught self-defence lessons in real time, though. Not like you minded, but it really got rid of the edge and the tension in its entirety.

Instead of paying attention to the storyline, it's more likely König would catch on to the stupid decisions the characters and the shitty attempts to fight back, and he wouldn't be able to help commenting:

"Why did she leave the knife in him? In his abdomen, of all places? Now the murderer has a weapon! Should have taken it out and left him to bleed out. But noooo, nein, leave the knife there."

"Going into the forest on his own? In the night? With a killer on the loose? Mein Gott, he is such a dummkopf! Bring a friend, why don't you?"

"Liebling, why is there so much gore? Isn't this rated "15"? Wait, and why is there a lady with no shirt? This is supposed to be scary, ja? I'm very scared. Scared you'll slap me, actually, if I don't keep looking at my lap."

Angrily ranting at the television, you'd gently reassure him, that, "Sweetie, this is fiction. Sometimes, the scenes are unrealistic." "But it said "based on real events"! I swear, liebling, if I watch another ten minutes of this I'll have a headache. I can't comprehend the stupidness."

Tough crowd, that couldn't really immerse himself in the plot, but you took a note or two for the sorts of horror movies König wouldn't dislike.

Although he insulted all the characters for being stupid and ridiculed all the characters for being so brainless, he would begrudgingly admit that he enjoyed the movie, pointing out some of his favourite scenes.

Self-aware comedic slashers meant he could suspend disbelief and laugh out loud a little, while, movies with an omnipotent monster meant he couldn't criticise any inaccuracies. He didn't winge at those as much in comparison to major blockbuster films. In fact, he even preferred low budget movies, ones that were pure comedic relief and so self-aware that he wouldn't be able to help but laugh along, unable to hide his amusement.

Afterwards, at exactly midnight, you'd be huddled together in the dark under a thick blanket, gorging your mouth with sugary sweets and bite-size chocolates (also indulging in chocolates that were far from bite-size), giggling like lunatics (well, that was mostly you, but König joined in to keep you company).

Later, face serious, with a torch under your chin, you'd be whispering hushedly with a tone of foreboding, voice low, and words ominous:

"Drip. Drip. Dripping water. She had checked the bathroom taps, the kitchen taps, and they were twisted tightly closed. A leakage, perhaps? Or, perhaps, something else. As she roamed the corridor, the drip-drip-drip of liquid grew louder. And louder—"

"Ah, she should call her plumber, then, shouldn't she?" A sure shit-eating smirk that was obscured by his mask, but the way his eyes were squinting you knew he was taking the piss.

Of course, storytelling was not as haunting as you would have had liked it to be: König would interject, interrupting the aura of mystery and the medatitive atmosphere, with sarcastic remarks. It made the narrations really melodramatic in the end, and frustrated you to no end.

Still, you would groan, and, undaunted by his immature antics — as, mind you, this was a grown-ass man, a 6'10 wall of muscle messing around like this, teasing you not like the cocky Colonel he was but a snarky teenage boy — continue:

"—she walked on — despite having been rudely interrupted moments prior — and her heart sank. Blood. A puddle of it, on the floor, looking like gallons upon gallons of it had—"

"Maybe she was — ah, what's the word?" A thoughtful pause, hand where his chin was under the fabric "— menustrating? Was she wearing white pants, maybe?"

"—Menstruating, König — and stop ruining my horror narration! Now I've lost the plot! Okay — against her will, her eyes moved up the wall, following the dripping blood. To her horror, it was coming from the attic. Swallowing the heavy lump in her throat, she pulled open the hatch with jittering fingers, grip slackened by the warm sweat on her palms, knees threatening to buckle. And, when the trap door released, she gasped. Blood draining her face, she saw—"

An exaggerated gasp from König, as he clasped his hands over his mouth in mock shock. "She— she saw— your mother! Mein Gott, the horror!"

"Shut up, König!" An annoyed huff, and shuffling away. "Honestly, you're such a killjoy..."

König, scooping you into his arms when you turned around with crossed arms, pouting lips, and furrowed brows, nuzzed his masked face into your neck, chuckling heartily. You squirmed under his hold, fabric tickling your sensitive neck, and you'd desperately hold back your giggles, trying hard to keep a straight face.

"Ja, ja, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Es tut mir leid, meine Liebe. Please keep going. What did she find in the attic?"

"No! You made me forget the grand reveal, now! I forgot what was up there, anyways..."

Walking around the house, you'd have the fright of your life when a huge shadow would jump in front of you at odd hours of the day.

"Boo!" König's voice resounded, loud and reverberating.

And you screamed, damn near verging on a heart attack.

"Shoving" him in frustration — you became actually even more frustrated when the man was like a solid wall and did not even budge a millimetre — König was quick to console you.

Doting over you, a wide smile on his face that the mask couldn't hide, he would be so overly lovey-dovey with you in an attempt to win back your affection that you'd roll yours eyes so far they'd end up in the back of your head.

"Meine liebe, I'm sorry for scaring you. I couldn't resist. You'll forgive me, won't you? You will, right? Please say yes."

You insisted you would, seemingly unassuming, then schemed to startle him at odd hours of the night as payback for losing your dignity in that moment.

At one point, you had even waited half an hour in the wardrobe while he was showering, only to jump out and see König in only a towel.

Yeah, you were the one that got jumpscared instead, face erupting in red despite you two being together for months at that point. You gave up trying to spook him then, bitterly accepting defeat.

Though, going along with your silly little activities, like going shopping for Halloween decorations, made König's heart swell seeing you bounce around excitedly and point out all the ornaments.

He didn't quite consent to you buying a life-size skeleton to call him Greg and place him in your shared bedroom. That was one step too far.

Still, seeing the wonder on your face, in awe of all the masks, costumes, decorations, and animated mannequins that'd cackle after triggering their mechanisms made his steel-blue eyes soften, melting into pure love and devotion for you.

So, to humour you one day, and to lift your mood after scaring you that one morning, König made two eye-holes in a white blanket, running after you around the house, almost tripping over it in his haste.

"Ooooo-ooo!" he moaned in over-dramatised agony, voice low yet playful. "This is not König, but his ghooost! Run, liebling, or you'll be neeext!"

Hearing him say that in his Austrian accent was so hilarious that were tears running down your cheeks from how hard you'd be laughing, and your sides splitting with the laughter, struggling scramble away, giggling.

Those moans of agony would become genuine cries in pain when he'd accidently hit his head on the doorframe when he forgot to duck in his excitement. The one time that bulky helmet of his could have come to use.

Despite all that, you'd be cornered against the wall, with nowhere to run, and König would pounce, tickling your sides viciously.

That broad smile on your face and the expression was worth fooling around and making a fool of himself.

He even didn't mind having you coo over his "injury" just like how he had when he was doting over you, because he loved you so much.

And, he loved you so much, that he even allowed you to "decorate" his gear. "To make it appropriate for the spooky season!" you had insisted, and he'd comply, not wanting to dull that sparkle in your eyes.

So contented with painting an intricate monster on his mask with fluorescent orange paint, you didn't notice König watching you hunched over the desk from behind, leaning against the doorframe with a loving smile on his face.

You hadn't expected that he'd wear that gear on base — veil, knee pads, helmet, and all — strutting his stuff. Just to remind everyone that their Colonel had a lovely spouse back home.

What you hadn't anticipated was how quickly König would start enjoying the season. Unexpectedly, he became obsessed with Halloween — his favourite tradition, second only to Christmas.

Carveling hollowed-out pumpkins of all shapes and sizes was one of his favourite past-times.

You'd think that with his size he'd struggle to cut through the orange crust without crushing it into pumpkin-coloured mush in his fists, but you'd be forgetting that he was skilled with a knife.

That said, König wasn't artistic. At all. The best he could produce would be a lopsided smiling caricature of... something. A nondescript creature, which you had complimented him on being so cute, only for him to angrily insist that it was an evil monster, and not cute at all.

Still, you would snap a picture before he could object, and give this pumpkin the spotlight on your front porch, soon many more following suit. Jack'o'lanterns illuminating your front step, glowing gold.

The sweet scent of cinnamon, ginger, and vanilla extract filled your house, new freshly-baked treats from the oven laid out on the kitchen island daily.

Delicious aroma of sugary pastry, homemade banana bread with small hints of vanilla and sprinkled with icing sugar, candied oranges and sour, sherbet lemon cakes, crunchy cinnamon sugar pumpkin seeds ("Made from the pumpkin guts!" you exclaimed with a smile of pride, König's eyes smiling in delight of your enthusiasm).

Crumbly shortbread in the shape skulls and bats, round cookies with orange and black icing resembling pumpkins, sponge cakes that oozed thick raspberry and strawberry jam when you bit into them ("Because they were bleeding blood," you proclaimed, a devilish smirk on your face — or, something like it, as to König you were the cutest angel he'd had ever been blessed to be around), and so, so, so much more.

So much that your weekly trips to the supermarket became biweekly, until you two found yourselves stocking up on sugar, flour, eggs, and butter far too often to keep track of.

The house was so inviting, especially to little ones from the neighbourd, that their mouths were agape and their eyes sparkled as they passed your "haunted house", holding the hands of their parent(s).

Mentioned in an earlier post that König has a soft spot for children, he'd stock up on Halloween candy and treats, and lug bucketfuls of sweets on the doorstep for any little ones that'd knock on your door to cheerfully cry out in unison, full of glee: "Trick or treat!"

He'd welcome them with open arms, but, with most of them being so little, they'd point with bulging eyes the giant on the doorstep, to be harshly reprimanded by their mothers and fathers for their ignorance and rudeness.

Few would say much after seeing König the giant, and after daring to scoop a handful of confectionary, bowing their heads and avoiding his eyes would mumble a shaky "...Th-thank you, s-sir—!"

One of them, however — a little girl with rosy cheeks donning white stockings and a gold tinsel halo — beamed brightly, albeit shyly, at König, thanking him for the treat and his generosity. An innocent, toothy smile that made her squint from how high it reached her eyes, her front baby teeth missing.

When she had her back turned to you two, she ran as fast as her chubby little legs could take her, and exclaimed, "Mommy! Mommy! That giant is a big and friendly one! A big, friendly giant. Can we go again, please? Please?"

It was only when you nudged König with your elbow, grinning, when she had skipped happily away, that he had realised he had tears in his eyes.

Moreover, maybe the memories König had of Halloween weren't so cheerful, or ones even worth remembering in the first place; after all, his childhood wasn't so cheerful. Joyless, and with little life.

But, with the way that Halloween was shaping up to be, he was already looking forward to the special celebration.

So full of life the you two were, you would laugh at the irony — animated and living the dream, while celebrating the day of the day. It brought you two to more laughter.

And, with you, König could make new ones, ones that you'd look back on fondly years from now, and those grueling months on deployment.

...

Note: Went off experience here for the beginning, guys🫡🫡 for the mowt part i have never celebrated Halloween😰 only a couple times in Poland, and once in England when i drank tomato juice and prwtended it was blood and i was a vampire🤪,

, but I Googled "Halloween in Austria" /Germany" to clarify whether I wasn't just speaking outta my ass and König here would have celebrated it differently to how I had in Poland 💀cuz, yknow, im not egocentric ajd the world doesnt celebrate things the same way Poles do 😘...

...And, no, I wasn't !☺️✨✨(... sort of😅... As far as I know, Germany has adopted the West's Halloween, ans theres pumpkin carving competitiomsn stuff, while Austria does indeed celebrate it slightly differently) .

Because I have no fuckijg idea of König's nationaloty anymore as it KEEOS CHANGING, I got the vest of both worlds 🥲🥲

Also been really busy guys😰😰😰by busy i mean stressing out ovee not writing then proceeding to NOT write bc im stressed❤️❤️🥰 you know jow it is!! 🤗(🔫) its ok tjo❤️(no it isnt) ill work tjis oit somejow🥹(no i wont im gonna kms) 🥰🥰

Have a very spooky halloween guys<3Feel bad foe those that are buying candy bc not onky is it smallwe than last uear but its more expensive 💔😟

426 notes · View notes

queen-of-reptiles · 5 months

Text

𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝙶𝙾

description: In reader's last game of her career, her wife and team make sure she understands how loved she really is

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vicky losada x female reader

disclaimer: I am in now way saying vicky is bi-sexual or lesbian, this is all fiction

warnings: language, bad google translations as per usual!

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y/n just posted

liked by losada_vicky, lucybronze and 298, 374 others

y/n spooky season... 👻

view all 11, 238 comments

username1: she is so pretty kill me now! 🙀🙀

username2: HOW CAN YOU LOOK LIKE THAT 😳😳

username3: love love love it!

losada_vicky: Jesus, I am a lucky woman... 🤯

y/n: proud to wear Losada on my back baby ! 🩷

username4: UGHHHHHH

username5: PLEASE MA'AM 🔥🔥

username6: Break me like a glowstick I beg

y/n: ya'll need to touch grass oml 🤨

username6: OMG OMG ❤️❤️

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Twitter/X

username1: I don't know if I can take it today - I cannot believe it 😭😭

username2: I am going to miss her so much.

username3: She is only 33, why do you think she is retiring? 😶

username4: She was really badly injured during her second world cup, her ACL tore, cracked two ribs and gave herself a dent in her skull, so...

username3: well, then that makes sense...

username5: I am so used to seeing her, I am going to miss her so much! 😭❤️

username6: I AM GOING TO CRY THEIR FUCKING STORIES GOD NO ❤️

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When the whistle blew, y/n couldn't believe it, the air was pulled from her lungs and as her teamed cheered in relief from the win, a tear dropped down her cheek at the idea of leaving for real this time.

Her wife wrapped an arm around her and the team swarmed her soon enough, a lot of people crying as they enjoyed a last group hug with their captain of four years.

As they pulled away, y/n looked out at the crowd who were screaming, cheering, waving Brighton Flags for her, and she laughed tearfully and waved out at them in thanks.

"Right." Vicky's voice echoes a microphone held in her hand.

"My wife has given a lot of her life to Brighton, and she honestly loves everything about this club, the players, the staff and especially the fans. I love this club because of her." Vicky says.

The crowd aww's at that, and y/n smiles sadly as she watches her wife who was looking around, proudly talking about the one she called her own.

"She may be retiring, but y/n Losada will be remembered for years as the best Brighton, fan, player and Captain because she has changed so many lives in the course of her own." Vicky finishes.

The crowd erupts at that, cheers showing such agreement to Vicky's speech that the captain covered hr face and took a deep breath, trying to stop from bursting into tears.

A microphone was somehow passed to her, and y/n shook her head, but the chants of 'speech speech speech' were telling her she was over-ruled.

"Um, wow, where to start?" She asks. "First of all, I came through the Brighton academy and played on a senior pitch at the age of 16. I am now 33, and after a brief few years at Barcelona, am honoured to have done my final game here." y/n begins, the crowd cheering for her.

"I am so grateful to every fantastic person on this team, in this club and in this crowd. Because you have made my job the easiest thing in the world." y/n smiles, her wife chuckling and wiping a tear.

"My wife is crying, though I wish she wouldn't because we both know, if I play any longer, I will be sewn back together with how many injuries I have got." y/n laughs, her hand coming up to cup her wife's face lovingly.

"I won't say much more, but thank you for your support, thank you for your love, you will all always have mine. Thank you Brighton and Thank you football. See you around!" y/n finishes and the crowd bursts into cheers.

Two loud bangs happen and y/n jumps before laughing in shock at the fireworks that had been set off from the stadium, the officials giving her a proper goodbye as people cheered.

"y/n! y/n! y/n! y/n! y/n!!" The crowd cheered, repeating her name over and over while the Brighton team piled on her one last time. y/n knew she'd enjoy being a wag, but she would miss football.

Vicky wrapped an arm around her, pressing her lips to her lover's temple as the woman sighed and relaxed in her hold, finding comfort in her wife's warmth.

"I know my love, I know." Vicky promises.

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y/n just posted

liked by, losada_vicky, brightonfc and 429, 736 others

y/n

Words cannot express the pain I have saying goodbye, football has given me a family, several teams, a wife and so much love.

I may be hurting, but I heard you all and I am so thankful for you, and the happiness you gave me tonight and always shall never be matched!

Thank you all so much, I have had such a fantastic time in this career. I will see you all soon, when I am fulfilling my WAG duties!

All my love

y/n Losada xx

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losada_vicky just posted

liked by y/n, alexiaputellas and 392, 921 others

tagged y/n

losada_vicky There may have been several reasons my wife took a step back from football. We cannot wait to meet this reason. ❤️

view 11, 376 comments

username1: OMG OMG AHHHHHHH 😱😱

alexiaputellas: congratulations you two! Cannot wait! I will be favourite Tia!

marialeonn16: No I Will Be!

onabatlle: honestly I think I will be ☺️

y/n: @losada_vicky baby, I am just realising how many aunts this child is going to have. 😂

lucybronze: They're all idiots I will be the favourite aunt! 😌😌

username2: English and Spanish national teams as aunts, jesus some people just live the life I dream!

username3: This baby is going to be so loved holy shit

username4: And the entire Brighton team as well!

leahwilliamsonn: HOLY SHIT AHHHHH ❤️❤️

_bethmead: SO EXCITEDDDDD ! ❤️❤️

keirawalsh: so proud and excited !!! 💙☺️

username5: :( I miss her playing already 😭

y/n: Can't express how much I love you, I am so excited! Serás una mamá fantástica.

you will be a fantastic mama

losada_vicky: I love you and our baby so much

username6: I am not crying you are.

ellatoone: I AM CRYING OMG 🩷

alessiarusso99: HONESTLY SAME 🩷

mbrighty04: SAME

racheldaly3: SAME

khiara.k98: SAME

lj10: same

y/n: I love you all so much xoxo

lucybronze: @lj10 you ruined the 'SAME' chain there mate with your lazy lowercase

lj10: 🖕🏾🖕🏾

lucybronze: 😚😚

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END

flufffffffff

kinda love this, kinda don't

meh

Queenie xx

225 notes · View notes

doumadono · 8 months

Note

OK hear me out? What is the MHA boys? Dabi, Hawks, Bakugo, Deku, or any other character with reader, who surprised them by dressing up as them for Halloween (since that spooky season is just around the corner😁) what do you think?

A/N: What a delightful idea, dear anon! I believe it would indeed take them all by surprise!

MASTERLIST

Dabi

At first, Dabi would be completely caught off guard, staring them in disbelief.

"You know, you've got some guts, dressing up like me."

Dabi would likely keep a close eye on them throughout the night, intrigued by their dedication.

After the initial shock, he might smirk and sarcastically comment on how they managed to nail his signature look.

"Alright, your costume's not half bad. Maybe you're not completely useless."

Eventually, he'd admit that their costume was pretty cool, but he'd still maintain his aloof demeanor.

Hawks

Hawks would burst into laughter when he saw the reader dressed up as him, finding it absolutely hilarious.

"You really went all out! I love it."

Hawks might challenge them to a "pose-off," seeing who can mimic his heroic stances the best.

Hawks would generously offer a couple of his feathers to enhance their costume.

He might suggest taking flight together, giving them a taste of what it's like to soar through the night sky.

Bakugo

Bakugo would likely explode in anger at first, thinking the reader was mocking him.

"You think you can outdo me, huh? We'll see about that!"

However, after a moment of intense ranting, he'd begrudgingly admit that their costume was pretty accurate.

"Fine, your costume is decent. Don't get used to compliments."

By the end of the night, he might grumble that their costume was "passable" but still secretly appreciate their effort.

Deku

Deku would be overjoyed and genuinely flattered to see someone dressed up as him.

He'd likely approach them with a big smile, thanking them for choosing his costume.

"Wow, I can't believe you dressed up as me! It's amazing! I'm feeling honoured!"

Deku might even share some of his favorite hero stories and moments with them.

"When I was a kid, I always wanted to be All Might for Halloween," Deku'd open up.

By the end of the night, Deku would feel a deep connection with them and consider them a new friend.

391 notes · View notes

btscontentenjoyer · 6 months

Text

BTS Halloween Fic Recs

In honour of spooky season, here are some fanfic recommendations that I think fit the mood or theme of the season! What that means to me really is just some supernatural fics that I've enjoyed a lot. Hope you enjoy some of these fics as well, and if you do, don't forget to let the author know by leaving feedback! Most of these stories contain smut or other mature themes so MINORS DNI!

kim namjoon

hungry (for your love) by @minisugakoobies (two-shot, 4k) slight fluff/slight smut

[namjoon x vampire reader, strangers to lovers]

summary: After a century of slumber, you wake ravenous for your next meal. The first human you stumble across, Namjoon, is a fine choice. You just weren’t expecting him to be so cute.

wish granted by @jjungkookislife (4.6k) smut

[genie namjoon x reader, strangers to lovers]

summary: Finding a genie in a bottle wasn’t what you were expecting the night before Halloween. Being granted three wishes sounded like fun at first, but after wasting one, and stumped on the second, you’re not too sure how your night will pan out. And the genie is of no help… he is insanely attractive though!

kim seokjin

useless magic by @raplinesmoon (2.3k) fantasy/fluff

[baker seokjin x witch reader]

summary: As owner of the hot new bakery in town, you should be more than ashamed to admit that your baking sucks. You know this fact. The only reason why people keep coming back to your bakery is that your desserts are enchanted: chocolate chip cookies that provide warmth and comfort, blueberry muffins that give a burst of energy to start the day, chocolate-covered strawberries spiked with love potions. One day, your fellow rival and bakeshop owner Kim Seokjin stumbles upon you in the midst of casting a spell. And chaos ensues.

in the dead of night by @ot7always (14.5k) smut/fluff

[vampire seokjin x reader, friends to lovers]

summary: You didn’t exactly expect Kim Seokjin to show up at your door at 3 am requesting a bite.

min yoongi

mine by @sailoryooons (14.8k) smut/horror/thriller

[yoongi x succubus reader]

summary: Yoongi lives a quiet life. His days are organized neatly, and every week he can expect the same results. Then he meets you. Hypnotizing. Otherworldly. Strange. And his life never goes back to the way it was before.

the dark by @bratkook (18k) smut

[demon yoongi x reader]

summary: your small town thrives on the occult, luring tourists in with endless themed festivities, but the only place you’re determined to see is the mysterious club that comes to life the week before Halloween. what makes The Dark so exclusive, and what secrets are they hiding behind closed doors?

jung hoseok

not today, satan by @gimmethatagustd (3.7k) humor/a lil bit of smut

[demon hoseok x reader]

summary: If you had known the demon tasked with reaping your soul would be a total #daddy you would have gone to Hell sooner!

what happened in neverland by @kithtaehyung (4.3k) angst/smut/pwp

[mermaid hoseok x pirate reader, enemies to lovers]

summary: you hate him. he’s your enemy. that’s just how it’s always been. so how the hell did you end up here?

the wood by @sailoryooons (16.7k) psychological thriller/smut

[witch hoseok x reader]

summary: From the moment you step foot in Kill Devil, you know something about the town is off. Determined to find out exactly how your sister went missing in such a small town, you receive unlikely help from the man staying in the motel room next to yours. But there is so much more than what meets the eye with Hoseok and the citizens of Kill Devil.

park jimin

cloud nine by @suga-kookiemonster (5.4k) smut/horror

summary: “he’s here again” viv whispers. “you know who. the hot guy who’s totally into you.” and he is hot – devastatingly hot enough that you know he can’t actually be into you, because the universe simply doesn’t work that way. that still doesn’t stop your heart from pounding when he smiles at you from across the room.

nectar by @gimmethatagustd (series, 35k) smut/angst/fluff

[human jimin x vampire reader, roommates to lovers, college au]

summary: Humans have this annoying habit of being drawn to danger, and you’re having a hard time stopping yourself from sinking your teeth into your new roommate. You’re not sure what’s more tantalizing: his impossibly good looks or his seemingly innocent way of flirting with the darkest part of you.

the prince’s cinderella syndrome by @jimilter (39.4k) angst/smut/fluff

[cursed jimin x reader, strangers to lovers]

summary: He shows up at Halloween, every year, dressed the same, and leaves at midnight like some Cinderella. You would think he was a prankster if his eyes didn’t look like they contained all the sadness in the world. You don’t know him - no one on campus does. You don’t know why he appears only once a year. You don’t know why he never smiles. But you can’t help falling in love with him. Even if he breaks your heart when he abandons you at midnight, again.

lovely demons by @kpopfanfictrash (41.7k) fantasy/angst/smut

[prince of hell jimin x witch reader, enemies to lovers]

summary: As penance for a crime committed long, long ago, the Witch Council banished you to the feared Tholoss forest. Your sentence was one hundred thousand days of solitude – or death, whichever came first. Your only hope of salvation comes from the demon names routinely sent your way; creatures who escape the inner circles of Helland pose a threat to the mortal realms. For each demon you kill, days are removed from your sentence. For years you’ve existed, biding your time, until one morning you receive a name which throws your entire world into chaos: the name of Park Jimin, High Prince of Hell himself.

kim taehyung

moonstruck by @jungkxook (7.4k) smut/fluff

[werewolf taehyung x reader, arranged marriage au]

summary: in hindsight, being friends with a pack of werewolves and, thus, suddenly being thrown into a world of supernatural furries and other inhuman beings isn’t something you would recommend but it was too late to back out now, especially when you consider the fact that apparently you’re now being “hunted” and the only way to save you is to be mated with taehyung. whatever that means.

et sic incipit by @lavienjin (12.5k) smut/pwp

[incubus taehyung x virgin reader]

summary: For Taehyung, born of old and before the dawn of man, tempting mortals is nothing more than a pass-time to quench his boredom. Everything changes when he met you, literally too good to be true, but no human has ever resisted his pull. And he’s sure that you’re no different.

love you for infinity by @gimmethatagustd (24k) smut/angst/fluff

[ghost taehyung x human reader, long-lost lovers, soulmates (kinda)]

summary: Kim Taehyung and his fiancée met their untimely deaths when they were young and heartbroken. When he’s doomed to roam the earth as a ghost with unfinished business, Taehyung is convinced that finding the soul of his true love and righting his wrongs will set him free. However, you have no intention of being haunted by a ghost for the rest of your life.

jeon jungkook

corrupt by @bratkook (5k) smut/pwp

[vampire jungkook x human reader]

summary: You’d be crying out in pain begging me to play my games. I could corrupt you, it would be ugly.

knot today by @kinktae (5.8k) smut/pwp

[alpha jungkook x virgin omega reader, friends to lovers]

summary: When your first heat approaches and you are left desperate and partnerless, who better to turn to than your alpha roommate that you’ve spent the better half of your life hiding your feelings for?

only when you’re lonely by @jjkeverlast (7.5k) humor/smut/angst

[human jungkook x succubus reader, fake dating, college au]

summary: jungkook has never dated anyone, because of you and you're soft touches that bring him to orbit. it's all it's ever been, just sex between you. although, it brings an unexpected turn when jungkook accidentally blurts you out as his girlfriend to his college friends which results in them expecting you to an upcoming party. what jungkook doesn't know is that you're much more than just someone he meets when he's lonely.

wicked by @noteguk (9.1k) smut

[incubus jungkook x inexperienced reader]

summary; in which incubus!jungkook likes to ruin pretty innocent things, and you might just be the perfect target.

darkroom by @yoon-kooks (10.2k) smut/fluff

[vampire jungkook x reader, college au]

summary: When you somehow end up in an advanced photography class that you definitely shouldn’t be in, you seek the help of shy nerdy boy Jeon Jungkook to preserve your 4.15 GPA. It isn’t until after you stumble upon him in the darkroom that you realize your cute little nerd is actually a super hot vampire with an icy cold stare and beautiful burgundy eyes.

hotter than hell by @chateautae (series, 136k) angst/fluff/smut

[fallen lucifer jungkook x human reader, enemies to lovers, road trip au]

summary: jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.

multiple members

ravished by two by @yoonia (5k) smut

[alpha namjoon x werewolf reader x alpha seokjin, fated mates]

summary: Two dominant Alphas, one defining goal. But how far can you catch up with two prime, tenacious males overcome with desire?

compromise by @here2bbtstrash (10k) crack/smut

[vampire taehyung x human reader x werewolf jungkook, twilight au]

summary: you’re torn between the two loves of your life - but maybe you don’t have to choose.

the (hell) house by @whatifyoulivelikethat (two-shot, 25k+) crack/fluff/smut

[ot7 x fwb reader, all kinds of monster sex lol]

summary: Welcome to the Hell House. Some call it resident evil. Some call it a haunted house. Some call it a waste of space (rude). Enter if you dare – the Doctor will ensure that you never come out the same. What’s that? Why are you going with your seven fuckbuddies? You wouldn’t… fuck in there, right? (Yes, you would.)

Thank you so much for taking the time to check out this list! And thank you to these amazing authors for sharing their work with us!! I honestly wanted to read more this month but I ended up not having time and yet I still wanted to put together a little list for the spooky season (thank you to the anon who asked for halloween recs for giving me a little push!) If anyone has more recommendations, I'd love to hear them, so don't be afraid to put them in the comments or send me an ask <3

#bts fanfic #bts fic recs #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic recs #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fic recs #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic recs #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fic recs #jimin fanfic #jimin fic recs #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic recs #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic recs #halloween fic recs #my rec lists #ivi reads

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scleracentipede · 7 months

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day 11 of spooky season in honour of every horror movie deer jump scare

#artists on tumblr #queer artist #digital art #trans artist #disabled artist #horror artist #horror #horror art #cryptid #gorecore #horrorcore #artist #deer #spooky #spooky season #Halloween #drawolleen #drawtober #digital illustration

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ask-wren-zhang · 7 months

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In honour of Spooky Season

Here’s our wee Pumpkin with his favourite pumpkin 🎃

#Charlie the niffler

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iridescent-king · 1 year

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SNAP OUT OF IT!!

i said i’d post SOMETHING in honour of the spooky season XD thanks for the survivor suggestions @the-inquisitive-journalist, @yaksha-spirit, and @luthiferx! and as always ty for the patience <3

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libertyeveningsun · 6 months

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Happy Halloween! Here are my spookiest 👻 textposts in honour of the end of spooky season

Bonus:

this one is only because of the pumpkin

I feel like scene this is something I'd see in a haunted house

Kenneth because he's technically Halloween themed even though he's the goodest mudmander and not spooky

#willow 2022 #save willow #willow textposts #happy halloween #general kael #kenneth the mudmander #lord sarris #kit tanthalos #graydon hastur #elora danan #the gales #willow ufgood #airk tanthalos #willow 1988

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sserpente · 1 year

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A/N: Requests from four anons and some of my own ideas. I thought in honour of Tom’s Jonathan Pine look making a comeback and the prospect of a Season 2, now is the perfect time for some spicy spy action! Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 2881 Warnings: smut

After Roper’s death, a lot in our own life changed. You moved away from Spain and back to the UK with a fresh start in your suitcase. Your new job in the publishing industry enabled you to meet the authors of the books you were passionate about and you could help discover new talents whose stories would enrich countless readers’ bookshelves.

It was peaceful now. Safer—for at no fault of your own, it hadn’t always been like that. You were young when you fled to sunny Spain to discover yourself, learned Spanish to the point of fluency and started a job at the local library that regularly held readings for both adults and children.

It all went well, for a while. Right until little Danny Roper stepped foot in the library for the first time, accompanied by two brooding bodyguards and a charming British gentleman you, for some reason, instantly mistrusted.

Richard Roper, a wealthy businessman with a mansion all to himself. Perhaps it was unfair to assume he had blood on his hands because of how heavy his wallet was but your instinct had never betrayed you before. Soon, little Danny Roper regularly came to visit the little library, took part in the readings and had you recommend new stories to him, always under the scrutinising eye of his bodyguards or his father.

On the night of Halloween, everything changed. The kids loved the spooky holiday. They were allowed to wear costumes for the themed reading that night and you spent the entire evening before long after the library had closed decorating for the occasion. The sweets you had bought for the kids to eat had come out of your budget but seeing their wide eyes upon entering the small library on the 31st had been worth every single penny—or cent, in this case—spent.

Danny Roper came too. Dressed in a mummy costume with a face full of paper-white make-up and armed with an orange pumpkin basket for his sweets, he was one of the first kids to make himself comfortable in the reading corner in the front row. But there was someone else with them that night. Someone you had never seen around before. He didn’t look like a new bodyguard but he was handsome. Blue eyes, a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, a five o’clock shadow, and dark-blond hair you instantly felt the urge to ruffle. Your heart skipped a beat when he locked eyes with you for the first time. You could practically feel his intrigued gaze burning through your skin when you read some child-friendly Halloween stories to the kids and from then on… he kept on coming back. Sometimes in the company of Danny and his bodyguards, sometimes alone. And each and every single time he asked you for recommendations for a new horror book, borrowed one, and returned the old one giving you detailed and positive feedback that he usually delivered with a charming, British smile.

You realised soon enough that his regular visits were but an excuse to see you again—but he remained distant, never made a move to ask for your number or a date. Perhaps it was for the best, you thought at the time. If he was with Roper then he was not to be messed with, a dangerous man to be around, and not the type of guy you should wish to be affiliated with.

“I’m glad Danny asked me to join him on Halloween. You have made this place truly special,” he had said one day. “Have you known them long? The Ropers?”

Alarm bells. Alarm bells loud and clear had rang in your head and almost drowned out the sound of your book scanner when he’d slid yet another horror novel towards you on the counter.

“Only for about a year. Danny has picked up so many children’s books I will need to restock to find new novels for him at this point. Richard Roper donated ten thousand euros to the library back in January.”

“Are you the owner of this library then?”

“Oh no, I only work here. But I am in charge of all the boring accounting paperwork.” Whatever had lit up in Jonathan’s blue eyes, was gone again before you’d had a chance to analyse it. But it had been suspicious enough for you to gather all of your courage, and look around briefly to ensure you were alone.

“I… can I give you some advice? Leave. As long as you still can. Something’s not right about this man. I don’t know what that poor kid is caught up in but my hands are tied,” you had told him with a lowered voice.

Jonathan had frowned at you, pressed his lips together to a thin line. Then, without another word, he had picked up his novel and left the store.

The following night, he’d appeared seemingly out of nowhere after you’d closed the library for the day and asked you out for dinner. One dirty martini afterward led to two and that very same night, you fell asleep in Jonathan Pine’s bed in a luxurious hotel room he was staying in for reasons he had not elaborated on much.

A couple of evenings and more passionate sex—the best sex you’d ever had—later, you had shown him the donation certification, complete with all the relevant bank details. Confidential data which could have gotten you into big trouble, both with the library and Richard Roper himself. A few more nights after that… Jonathan disappeared for a while and you realised that he had only used you—and your body—for information.

It had baffled you back then, when, almost a month after, he showed up on the doorstep of the library, beaten, bruised, and half-dead. No police, no hospital, he had murmured over and over and you, having fallen in love with the man unconditionally, had hidden him and nursed him back to health. For weeks on end, Jonathan Pine lay low in the cellar that acted as an inventory for the library, living off of takeaway food you smuggled down to him day after day. He told you everything. How he had been sneaked into Roper’s family as a spy to put an end to his schemes at long last, how Roper sold deadly weapons that killed hundreds of people, and how incredibly sorry he was for putting you in all this danger.

One night, while he was still recovering from his injuries and you stayed in the library with him to make sure he didn’t develop a fever, he whispered your name in his sleep, hands blindly attempting to reach you, touch you, explore you, and pull you close.

He confessed he was in love with you the morning after and a few weeks later, after Roper had finally been arrested, you moved back to the UK with him. Here you were now, climbing up the career ladder in the publishing industry.

Jonathan had left his spy days behind for now and accepted a job as the night manager in a lovely hotel in the heart of Switzerland over the winter. You’d be apart for a few months and it had broken your heart to hear of it even though you were more than happy for him and the opportunity he had been offered.

Two weeks after his departure, your boss had asked you to join her on a business trip to that very same hotel to meet with an internationally best-selling author whose next book series was going to be translated into thirteen languages.

Jonathan didn’t know you had just landed in Switzerland. He didn’t know you were coming to stay at his hotel. The name the rooms were booked under was your boss’ assistant who Jonathan had never met before. Needless to say, when you entered the lobby and the warm air enveloped you welcomingly, scaring away the Swiss winter air, his stunning blue eyes widened. You failed to suppress your smirk, knowing very well how much he was struggling with remaining polite and professional—after all, you were with your boss and her assistant.

“Good evening! Sorry, our flight was delayed a little. I’ve got three rooms booked under the name Elsa Higgins?” the latter greeted him.

“Ah, yes, Ms. Higgins! Good evening, ladies. Please, allow me to welcome you to the Meisters. My name is Jonathan Pine and I’m the night manager. May I offer you any refreshments?”

Your boss shook the snow off of her beret and began taking off her winter coat. Jonathan was by her side instantly, helping each and every one of you out of your winter gear—even though with you, his touch lingered for just a second too long, his fingertips brushing against the back of your neck. You shivered. Fuck, you had missed him so much.

“Thank you, Mr. Pine,” you mused, watching him struggle a bit with how you addressed him before he poured you all a glass of champagne. Then, he moved behind the counter to sort out your rooms and hand you your keys while the concierges busied themselves with your suitcases and disappeared out of sight quickly.

“Our concierges will be taking up your luggage at once, as you can see. Is there anything else I can do for you in the meantime? Have you had dinner yet?”

“We have, thank you. We’re just very tired from the flight. Could you show us to our rooms? This hotel is so big, I feel like I’m gonna get lost!”

“Of course, dar-, Miss. Please, follow me.” He caught himself before the word “darling” could escape his lips. Chuckling to yourself, you stared at his sexy back and entered the lift right after him.

“He is so hot!” your boss whispered to you. Heavens, he was. He looked so handsome in that navy blue suit and the white shirt… and that tie! You had to remember to get rid of those damp panties of yours later and sneak them into his pockets somehow—because the mere thought of him taking off that tie and using it to bind your wrists together got you so wet you had to clench your legs on the way up. If only your boss and her equally yearning assistant knew you regularly had the pleasure to fuck this man…

Jonathan was reluctant to leave you behind after letting you know about the breakfast times, the pool opening times, and that he was at your service for anything at all, at all times during the night. And oh, you might just take him up on that offer…

“Thank you, Mr. Pine. I’ll be sure to call if I need anything.” You excused yourself to the bathroom and when you came back, yours and the door of your boss were still wide open, denying you the privacy you craved. Besides, Mr. Jonathan Pine had to remain professional at work. You chuckled once more, making quick work of stuffing your spoiled panties into his suit jacket. He pretended not to be fazed by it but for a spy, he was pretty bad at hiding how much he was struggling with keeping his composure.

But that was only the beginning. You were feeling adventurous tonight. And so, after wishing your boss and her assistant a good night, you got ready for bed, making yourself comfortable on the soft mattress and the lavender-scented bed sheets completely naked, and then used the phone on the nightstand to call the reception. It was shortly past two am by now. Surely, the lobby was deserted.

You hummed contently when he picked up and purred your last name with a seductive ‘Miss’ in front of it into the speaker. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, you see… I’m so lonely in this big suite, Mr. Pine. So very lonely. Is there a way you could keep me company? I am so tense from the journey,” you mused, dragging out your last “so” to the point you could hear him breathe heavily on the other end of the line.

Jonathan cleared his throat. There was absolutely no way he hadn’t discovered yet just what exactly you had shoved into his pocket. He was probably clutching at it with his free hand right now.

“Ah, well, I am afraid our masseuses don’t start their shift until seven am, Miss, but perhaps I can arrange some other… form of… relief for you.” His voice became raspier and darker the more words escaped his lips.

“Really? That would be quite wonderful. You see, Mr. Pine, the sheets are so soft and comfortable, I figured I don’t even need any sleepwear.”

Jonathan took a deep breath. A short moment of pregnant silence followed and then, “I’ll be right up, Miss.” With that, he hung up.

You giggled to yourself, counting the seconds. He must have taken the steps, for only forty-three strikes of the second hand on the clock above the massive sofa in the suite later, you heard a gentle knock on your door.

Rushing over on bare feet, you hid behind it as you opened it for him to conceal your nakedness from the bright lights in the hallway, the both of you drowning in comfortable darkness and only the pale moon shining through the massive windows illuminating both your features as soon as he’d closed the door again behind him.

“I have ten minutes,” he murmured out of breath before his lips came crashing down on yours. You laughed against his mouth, his feverish urgency instantly infecting you. Jonathan’s touch was like a fire ignited inside of you by the single stroke of a match. Step after step, he guided you back towards your bed without ever breaking the battle of tongues you fought out, his hands exploring your naked curves and kneading your butt cheeks thoroughly before pushing you down on the mattress.

Jonathan was above you within a fraction of a second, one of his knees keeping your legs apart, his hand snatching your wrists and pinning them down above your head. Finally, he released your lips to let you catch your breath for a moment.

“Naughty girl, slipping your used underwear into my pockets… you little tease…”

“Aw, I thought you’d appreciate my little gift,” you mocked—your chuckle soon turned into a moan, however, when he gently bit the underside of your left breast, followed by his tongue tasting your nipple.

Jonathan’s dark growl was unlike anything you had ever heard from him when his one free hand struggled to undo his belt and the buttons of his suit trousers. You were pretty certain he hadn’t even taken his shoes off but by the time he finally managed to push the fabric down to his upper thighs, he was as hard as a rock, his red tip leaking precum teasing your entrance.

There was no need for him to prepare you. You had been soaked and ready for him ever since your arrival at the hotel. Jonathan wasted no time. He positioned himself swiftly, pulling your legs apart even further, and then, sheathed himself inside of you with but one fluid movement.

The both of you moaned in unison, his forehead resting against yours. Jonathan kissed you again when he pulled out to thrust up into you, your hips bucking to meet him. His free hand remained where it was—right between your legs where your bodies were joined.

As he fucked you hungrily, his fingers quickly found a little toy to play with—and knowing Jonathan, he was a skilled lover. He had you on the brink of orgasm in no time, his rhythm relentless and his strokes hard.

You arched your back the closer you crept to the edge, breaking his kiss to gasp for air and throw your head back which he instantly took as an invitation to taste your neck and assault it with gentle licks, bites, and kisses.

It was the moment he released your wrists and placed one of your legs on his shoulder to rut into you even deeper, his tip brushing against all the right spots, that made you come undone underneath him. Clenching around his length, he fucked you through your climax until he too found release, only fuelling your arousal when you felt ropes of his seed coating your walls, his member jerking inside of you until eventually, he stilled and embraced you without ever pulling out of you.

“How are you even here?” he finally asked. “I’m so happy to see you, darling.”

“That I could tell.” You grinned, grinding against him and eliciting a little whimper from him in the process. “My boss is meeting a client here. She asked me to come with her, it was quite last minute. I could have called you but I wanted to make it a surprise.”

“You most certainly did surprise me, darling. You know… I think I quite enjoy you calling me ‘Mr. Pine’.”

Your grin grew even wider. “Lucky for you, we’ll be staying the whole weekend, Mr. Pine.”

Jonathan growled once more. He was on you again to stifle your laugh and had you cumming for him again long before his ten minutes were over.

A/N: Well that was fun to write! ;-)

#jonathan pine #jonathan pine imagine #jonathan pine x you #jonathan pine x reader #jonathan pine smut #the night manager #the night manager imagine #tom hiddleston

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