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touyasdoll · 7 months

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Scream 2

this is a follow up to a fic I wrote last year for kinktober, but it’s not necessary to read that one before this one. it can stand alone <3

pairing: ghostface!Dabi x f!reader x ghostface!Hawks

warnings: DARK CONTENT, please be advised. CNC, dubcon, fear play, knife play, home invasion, threesome, double penetration in one hole, eiffel tower for lack of a better term, oral (m!receiving), oral (f!receiving), backshots, also Touya is 6'4 idc what the canon says, au where Hawks actually double crosses the HPSC bc a girl can dream, rough sex, not exactly hair pulling but hair grabbing, face sitting, thigh riding, size kink, dirty talk, biting, marking, overstimulation, mild degradation, praise, impact play (barely), nipple play, breeding, let me know if I missed any please <3

word count: 5.3k

notes: Happy Halloween! 👻🔪🖤

“You’re absolutely sure about this?” Keigo asks as he narrows his golden irises at the white haired man before him on the rooftop.

The sky is dark, especially in this part of the city. The few lights from the rundown buildings and buzzing street lamps provide the only meaningful illumination, as the moon is hidden behind a thick blanket of dark, heavy clouds that promise a storm is coming.

“I’m sure. Don’t sweat it, feathers. Just stick to the plan and everything’ll be fine. Scout’s honor,” Touya replies, flashing a sardonic smile.

“Your honor isn’t exactly worth much,” the hero scoffs. “But I guess I’ll have to take you at your word.”

Keigo’s dressed in his civilian clothes; an all black ensemble consisting of jeans, boots, and a well-fitting hoodie. He’d clearly heeded Touya’s instruction to dress for stealth, while the villain is still dressed in his stitched ensemble.

“That’s a good little bird,” Touya says as he heads for the stairs. “Good luck. You might need it, hero.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, heaving an anxious sigh before he takes off into the cool night air.

You’re just getting ready to turn in for the night. It had been a successful Halloween. You and Touya were able to watch a few spooky movies and take turns passing out candy before he had to leave for whatever PLF business he’s up to tonight.

He actually seemed to enjoy himself whenever it was his turn to answer the door. Maybe it was because he got a kick out of seeing the kids’ reactions to his Ghostface mask, but you have a feeling it was more about seeing your reaction to the mask.

He hasn’t pulled it out since last Halloween, much to your disappointment. He just looks so good in it. You could even do without the theatrics. Just being able to ride him or get railed while he has that damn mask on would be enough.

You were hoping that he’d give you an encore tonight. He did use the code the two of you had established. You vividly remember him slowly lifting off the mask after closing the door on another round of trick-or-treaters and sauntering over to the couch with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Hey, doll. What’s your favorite scary movie?” He’d asked, the question so full of promise, just as it had been last year.

But it was well past midnight now. He’d said that he might be back late tonight, which is usually how it goes when he’s working. Maybe you two could have your fun on another night, you suppose as you retreat to your bedroom.

You change into one of Touya’s t-shirts before you slip beneath the covers and just before you rest your head, your phone rings. Seeing that it’s your boyfriend, you pick it right up.

“Hey, baby,” you greet him, sitting up against the headboard.

Unfortunately, you don’t hear a word that he says. What you do hear is much more terrifying. A loud, sudden thud reverberates throughout the house and you swear it must be coming from your kitchen, but you were just in there hardly a minute ago. Surely, you’d notice someone creeping around your house, right?

Then again, you hadn’t noticed last year. Maybe he was keeping up the tradition after all. Trying to pull the wool over your eyes again to give you a scare. Well, not this year. You know better.

“Sorry, baby. You were breaking up,” you say calmly as you slip out of bed and creep into the hall. “What did you say?”

You’d play along with his little game, but you know that you have no reason to be truly afraid. He’s probably hiding behind a corner somewhere, watching you as you pad about the house in nothing but his t-shirt and your underwear. The thought actually turns you on quite a bit.

“I said I’m about to head home. Sorry things took so long, but I should be back soon. M’not far,” Touya says as he jingles his keys in his hand.

“Okay. I was just about to turn in to bed, but I’ll wait up for you,” you say as you head into the kitchen to turn the light on.

There’s a large duffel bag in the center of the floor and you can’t help but wonder what might be inside. Seems like he’s really trying to up the ante this time. Your insides start twisting with a heady mixture of both excitement and desire, but then you see a figure who seems too short to be your boyfriend step into the other entrance to the kitchen and your heart stops.

“You don’t gotta wait up if you’re tired, doll,” Touya says on the other end of the phone, confirming that it’s definitely not him staring you down in that familiar Ghostface costume.

“Babe,” you whisper, your voice trembling in fear as you take a step back and the masked intruder takes one with you. “S-someone’s in the house.”

“What?” Touya asks and you can hear the fear in his voice as well, which sends your blood pressure through the roof. “Doll, just stay hidden. I will be there as soon as I can. I’m on my way, okay? Where are you?”

“O-okay,” you respond meekly, your voice cracking as you continue to walk backwards.

The intruder keeps at your pace, tilting his head to one side as he studies you. Your eyes are drawn to something glinting in the light as he reveals a blade from behind his robe.

“Doll, where are you? Do they know you’re there?” Touya asks frantically as he fires up the car and takes off.

You only faintly hear his voice and the tires skidding in the background of the call as you freeze up. Everything slows down for just a moment and then the adrenaline kicks in.

You bolt for the front door, only to find that it’s locked from the outside somehow. You try again in vain to jiggle the handle, praying that maybe it’s just stuck, but it’s definitely fucking locked and that causes you to panic all over again.

“Doll? Doll, answer me,” Touya yells loud enough for you to hear it even though you’ve since dropped your phone to your side.

You don’t hear the stranger coming up behind you, but when you look over your shoulder, he’s right there. Close enough to kill you if he wanted.

You scream in fright and drop the phone in your haste to bolt for the back door, but he jumps in your way. He’s on the smaller side, but he seems especially nimble. You aren’t sure you stand much of a chance getting away from him, but you have to try.

You just have to last until Touya gets home. That’s what you keep telling yourself. A mantra that you repeat over and over in your mind as you scramble down the hall and into the first open door.

The slam of the door knocks some sense back into you. You keep your hands pressed against it and take a look around the guest bedroom, eyeing the dresser nearby. It’s mostly empty and it’s not very big, but it’s better than nothing.

A loud bang that sounds like a heavy fist thudding against the wood startles you and you let out a scream before you lurch towards the dresser to start sliding it across the floor.

“Doll? Doll, where are you?” You hear Touya’s voice call out from down the hall.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Do you come out? Touya’s more than capable, but you don’t know what this intruder is capable of. What’s his quirk? What if it’s deadly?

Your heart thumps wildly in your chest as you listen for sounds of a struggle, but your fear of something happening to your boyfriend wins out over your fear of something happening to you.

“Babe?” You call as you burst out of the door, frantically scanning the dimly lit house as you creep down the hall once more.

The kitchen lights have been turned off and it’s quiet. It’s silent. Eerily so. Just when you feel like you might have made a mistake, the stranger turns the corner from the kitchen and holds a voice changer up to his mouth.

“Yes, doll?” He says, tilting his head in a mocking fashion as he slowly stalks closer to you.

Your eyes go wide as you realize that you’d definitely fucked up and you attempt to retreat back to the relative safety of the guest room, but you hear footsteps right behind you. He’s moving too fast. He covers twice the distance that you’re able to and throws himself across the doorway before lifting the device to his concealed mouth again.

“Fooled ya,” he says in the familiar, raspy distorted voice of Ghostface.

Tears well in your eyes as you turn tail and run straight for the backdoor. You aren’t thinking, just moving. Hurtling towards freedom, which you are hoping against hope you are able to find, but all hope is lost when you suddenly collide with another figure in the kitchen.

You slam into their firm chest and tilt your head back to look up at the imposing new intruder, who is also dressed as the masked fictional killer.

“Fuck,” you mutter, gaping up at the taller of the two in horror as you turn on your heel, only to find the other one right behind you.

Both of them begin closing in, sauntering towards you silently. All that you can hear is the pounding of your heart echoing in your ears as you back yourself up to the island. The shorter stranger looks between you and his companion in crime, who nods in response as your heart sinks into your stomach.

“Please. Please don’t hurt me,” you whimper, shrinking against the cool marble countertop.

The shorter of the two lifts the voice changer to his lips and uses his other hand to brandish the knife once more, using the blade to lift the hem of your shirt and press the flat of the cold steel blade to your stomach.

“We’re not gonna hurt you, gorgeous. We just wanna play,” he says as he leans in closer.

“I thought you liked playin’ like this, doll?” The taller one asks as he tilts his head to one side.

You whip your head towards him, because you could swear that’s your boyfriend’s voice, but you’ve already been tricked once tonight. He flashes his palms, revealing no voice changer in his hand. No knife either. He snaps his fingers together and a brilliant blue flame burns away the glove concealing his hand to reveal familiar scars and staples.

“T-Touya?” You ask shakily, blinking in surprise. “Then who the fuck is..?”

Your heart rate finally starts to slow as you trail off and shake your head, looking at the other Ghostface in confusion. You reach out to rip the mask off and are stunned to find Keigo’s wilder than usual blonde hair and disarming golden gaze beneath the disguise.

“Happy Halloween, doll,” Touya purrs as you stare at Keigo’s handsome smirk.

“I-I don’t understand,” you say quietly, not wanting to assume that what you sincerely hope might happen is actually about to happen.

“Sure ya do,” Touya continues, his large hands finding your hips to draw you closer and bring your back flush against his chest, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as Keigo sets the knife down on the counter without taking his hungry eyes off of you. “You remember us having this conversation, don’t you?”

Your brow furrows and you look away from the hero as you try to remember just what in the fuck Touya is on about when you recall him prompting you with an unusual question a few months ago.

You were sitting on the couch, curled up watching a movie. Sleep was beginning to tug at you, trying to beckon you to bed, but you were stubborn and insisted on staying up to see the end of the film, even though Touya was making it that much more difficult by rubbing his unnaturally warm hands along your back.

“Say, if we were ever to have a threesome with one of our friends, who would you want it to be with?” He’d asked you seemingly out of the blue, but unknown to you, he’d been ruminating on how to top his Halloween escapade for some time already.

“Hmm?” You ask as you tilt your head back to look at him and shrug. “I don’t know. You don’t exactly have a whole lot of friends. No offense.”

“None taken. I’d consider that a compliment,” he says, shrugging. “But seriously. Well, hypothetically, I guess. If ya had to pick one, who would it be? There’s plenty of hot people in the PLF.”

You hum curiously, taking a moment to think it over as you tuck your face back into his chest and nuzzle into him.

“Keigo. He’s hot and I’d trust him,” you reply bluntly, a yawn escaping you a moment later.

“Good choice. You’re right on both counts,” he murmurs, a plan already coming together in his mind. “That could be fun.”

“I didn’t think.. I mean–I–,” you balk, looking between them in disbelief.

“I wasn’t bein’ hypothetical, gorgeous,” Touya says as he spins you around to catch your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently tilting your head back so that his blue eyes can bore into you while Keigo switches on the kitchen light. “So whaddya say?”

“We’re gonna need a clear answer before the real fun can begin,” Keigo says sensually as he steps close enough that you can feel his body heat behind you.

“Yes,” you eek out, nodding your head as you try to wrap your brain around this unexpected turn of events.

The bastard had gotten one over on you again after all, but it’s not like you can even stay mad about it, considering what’s in store for you.

“I hope you’re hydrated, doll,” Touya chuckles, fisting a hand into your hair to carefully tug your hair back and kiss you like his life depends on it.

He sighs through his nose, groaning against your lips as his hand drops to your ass. He gives it a firm squeeze as he shifts his hips against yours, letting you feel how hard he is already.

Keigo steps closer to press his toned chest against your back and tilts his head to start kissing along your neck as he grabs your waist and grinds against you from behind, revealing that he’s also sporting a raging hard on.

You moan, working your tongue and your mouth against Touya as your hands explore his chest, searching for an opening in the black robe he’s wearing.

“You wanna just cut to the chase already, doll?” The villain smirks, lighting his palm for just a second to reduce your scant clothing to ash. “I think we’ve been through enough foreplay and I’ve been waiting too damn long for this.”

He does the same to his clothing, pressing a hand to his chest and the other to Keigo’s. You feel another brief flash of tolerable heat before you’re hyper aware of the feeling of both of their bare bodies writhing against your own.

“Oh fuck,” you sigh, tilting your head to one side as Keigo begins nipping at your sensitive pulse point, laving his tongue over it to soothe the subtle ache.

You reach a hand back to work it into his hair and tug gently as you arch your back, grinding your ass against his stiff cock, which coaxes a gorgeous moan from him. You slip a hand between you and Touya as he captures your mouth again. Your fingers wrap around his length to guide the bead of precum along his shaft, drawing out a beautiful noise from him as well.

Both of them suddenly pull away and you’re afraid that you’ve done something wrong until Keigo steps in front of you to grab your hips and effortlessly lift you up onto the kitchen island.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about this for a long, long time,” he says, smirking as he leans in to kiss you and parts your legs.

Touya stands back, stroking himself as he watches Keigo crouch down between your thighs. The blonde keeps his eyes on yours as he trails kisses and love bites along your inner thighs, slowly and steadily working his way up to your glistening pussy.

“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs as he sets his sights between your legs as dives in, his tongue parting your folds before it spears inde of you.

He certainly knows what he’s doing and it immediately drives you crazy. You keep yourself supported and sitting upright with one hand, so that you can watch him feast on your pussy while you keep a hand in his hair. He alternates between bathing you with his tongue and sucking on your clit with just the right amount of pressure, drawing moans and whimpers from you with ease.

You look up to seek validation from Touya, almost feeling guilty for enjoying yourself so much, but he seems to be just as into it as you are. He nods, grinning wickedly as he comes closer.

“You enjoyin’ yourself, doll?” He asks as he stops stroking himself to instead reach beneath Hawks’ chin and slip two fingers inside of you.

“Y-yes!” You gasp, your eyes crossing as your head tips back. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.”

“I know, gorgeous,” he purrs and you can hear the smug smirk on his face. “Go ahead and cum all over my friend’s face. He’s dying to taste it.”

His words send you over the edge and you cry out, sending your release gushing into Keigo’s mouth as your hips gyrate on top of the counter. The hero wraps his arms around your thighs to keep you still as he continues ravaging you with his tongue. He noisily cleans up your arousal, sending you into overdrive as you whine and beg for him to show you mercy when it just gets to be too much.

He eventually lets you catch your breath, but when he stands up to wipe his chin, the look on Touya’s face tells you that you in for much worse if you thought that was too much.

“S’my turn to taste that sweet pussy, gorgeous. C’mere,” he says, nodding towards the hall as he scoops you up off the counter. At least he doesnt expect you to walk after that.

He carries you into the bedroom and switches the light on before he lays you down on the bed and lumbers over you.

“First things first, clean up the mess you made,” Touya practically coos as he offers his slick fingers to you.

You hold his gaze as you slowly take the digits into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them and moaning quietly when you taste yourself on his skin.

“Good girl,” Hawks praises you as he crawls onto the bed and Touya repositions, laying flat on his back.

“You know my favorite number, doll,” he says as he delivers a swift smack to your behind, just enough to make you jump a little. “Assume the position.”

You look between him and Keigo curiously and do as you're told, straddling Touya’s face to wrap your hand around his cock and begin stroking, but before you can take a seat, he tuts his tongue.

“I want your mouth on him, baby,” Touya says before he hooks his arms around you and forces you to sit.

His mouth starts working wonders between your legs and you think you might just cum in record time after what Hawks had done to you, but then you remember that your mouth is needed elsewhere than just filling up the sticky air with filthy noises.

You shift forward as Keigo comes closer, his swollen cock bobbing in front of your face. You lift your eyes to his and take great pleasure in watching the watch his head dips back and his Adam’s apple bobs when you take him into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groans, struggling to keep still as he lets you slowly bob along his length until you’re comfortably taking him in and out of his mouth while working your hand along his shaft.

You keep your other hand wrapped around Touya’s cock, focusing on trying to please both of them while feeling like your brain is going to break thanks to what Touya’s doing beneath you. The moans that you drive from him send vibrations straight into your pussy that only drive you closer to the edge.

You hold on for as long as you can, but it soon becomes to much again and you pull your mouth and hands away from both of them to sit up and support yourself with your hands on Touya’s thighs, gripping them tight.

“C-can’t,” you practically sob, squeezing your eyes tight as you hang your head. “Holy shit.”

“Yes, you can,” Keigo coos as he reaches out to cup your breasts, massaging them with care before he starts tweaking your nipples, which sends you cascading into oblivion for the second time tonight.

You nearly collapse, slumping forward as you’re overcome with pleasure, but Keigo catches you, loosely holding you in his arms as he rubs his hand along your back, which only heightens the sensations you’re feeling.

You whimper in his ear and he presses a kiss to the side of your head as he and Touya gently ease you off of the latter, so that Touya can sit up.

“You’re doin’ so well, beautiful,” Hawks croons, peppering kisses along your jaw until he finds your lips.

“Mm,” is the only response you can muster at the moment as you slowly come down from your high.

“So well,” Touya praises, moving behind you to rest his hands on your hips as he kisses along your shoulder. “Such a good girl. Can you keep bein’ a good girl for us, gorgeous? If we give you what you really want? Hmm?”

“Yes,” you say breathlessly, nodding your head as your eyes fall closed. “I’ll keep bein’ good. I’ll be so good.”

“That’s our girl,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck before he places a chaste kiss to it.

Keigo moves aside and then Touya presses a hand to your back, keeping the other firmly planted on your hip as he forces you onto all fours. He groans as he grinds himself against you, his cock gliding through your folds, nearly penetrating where you need him the most.

“Please,” you whine softly, shaking your ass as you drop your hips back against him.

“Since you asked so nice,” he purrs, smirking as he slips inside of you, letting you feel him enter you inch by glorious inch, his piercings sliding against your walls and making your eyes roll back.

Keigo starts stroking himself as he watches Touya set a steady rhythm, fucking you just hard enough to make you gasp now and then as you fist your hands into the sheets and meet him thrust for thrust. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the room, mixing with the euphoric noises pouting from each and every one of you.

“Just gotta stretch you out a bit, gorgeous,” Touya pants, draping himself over you as he slows his pace. He reaches a hand around ti gently guide your face towards Keigo, who’s abs are drawn taut as he continues stroking himself, his eyes now fixed on your face. “You think you can take both of us? He’s not exactly small either, but I believe in you, doll.”

Your eyes widen, but you find yourself nodding. You aren’t sure if you can do it, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try.

“I want to,” you breathe out, nodding as you reach out towards Keigo to take over stroking his cock, tugging very gently to guide him closer as you smirk up at him. “We should get you nice and lubed up though, yeah?”

His eyebrows raise and he looks extremely pleased as he nods and cradles your head in the back of your hand as Touya straightens up.

“So fucking good,” Touya marvels through grit teeth as he picks up the pace again.

He lets you adjust to having Keigo in your mouth, but he starts pushing your further, driving into your hard enough to make you deep throat the hero, which makes both of them groan sinfully as they watch you swallow their cocks at either end.

“Fuck,” Keigo sighs as he suddenly backs away. “Anymore of that and I’m gonna be done way too soon.”

“Let’s see if you’re ready then, doll,” Touya says, smirking as he pulls out and kneads the fat of your ass before giving it a light smack. “Lay down, Kei. You should her pussy for yourself first.”

Hawks lays on his back and Touya cups your cheek to guide your face towards his one, giving you a passionate kiss before he lets you go and nods towards the blonde.

“Give him the ride of his life,” he says as he wraps his hand around his own cock.

You climb on top of Keigo, leaning in to give him a kiss and slip your tongue into his mouth, teasingly tracing it around the entrance of his mouth as you wrap your hand around his length. You suddenly sink down and he lets out a choked groan as he seizes your hips.

You rest your hands on his chest, smirking with satisfaction as you start riding him, moving your hips slowly at first as your walls clench around him, hugging his cock tight.

“You feel so good, Kei,” you say breathily.

His eyes widen and for a moment, he feels like he might just cum and pass out right there. He lets you set the pace, watching you intently as you bounce up and down on his length. His hands glide over your body, exploring every inch of you that he can reach before they settle on your breasts. He massages them as gently as he had earlier before tweaking your nipples.

He seems to get a better idea as he sits up and wraps his arms around you, grabbing your ass to start guiding your hips more forcefully while he takes your nipple into his mouth to suck. He expertly moves his tongue across the sensitive bud, flicking and swirling it around as he applies more pressure to your hips and encourages you to quicken your pace.

“Just like that, doll,” Touya pants, struggling to stave of his own end as he senses yours coming.

“Keigo,” you whimper, grasping onto his shoulders as you squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back, your hips bucking as you come undone again.

“Oh fuck,” he groans loudly, panting for breath as he continues fucking you through your end while fighting off his own.

Touya pulls his hand away from his cock to take a few deep breaths, watching you contort with pleasure until you’re through the worst of it. He moves behind you and kisses along your shoulder again, sending delicious shivers down your spine.

“You sure you wanna do this, doll?” He asks quietly, his tone sincere.

“Yes. Yes, please,” you whisper, nodding weakly nodding your head.

“You don’t have to do any of the work this time, baby,” Keigo says as he runs his hands along yours arms and lays flat on his back. “Just let us make you feel good.”

You nod again and Touya rests a hand on your back to gently guide your forward so that you’re laying on top of Keigo before he situates himself behind you.

“I’ll go slow,” he assures you as he first works one finger inside of you. Then another.

You and Keigo both moan quietly, your shallow breaths mingling with one another’s as he drags his fingertips along your back. Touya starts slowly thrusting his fingers and Keigo slowly shifts his hips, working you open further as you rest your head on the blonde’s chest and submit to it. Once he’s confident that you’re able to take both of them, Touya slowly guides the head of his cock inside of you.

“Shit,” he groans, continuing to gently bully himself inside. “It’s so fucking tight. So fucking good. You feel that, Kei?”

“Fuck yeah I do,” Hawks sighs, holding perfectly still as his face twists with pleasure. “It’s so fucking good.”

You press your nails into Keigo’s biceps as you feel the two of them stretching you open and filling you up in a way that you never thought possible. They’re right. It is so. Fucking. Good.

“Fuck me,” you beg quietly once Touya’s seated inside of you. “Please fuck me. Wanna feel both of you.”

“You’re gonna, baby,” Touya croons as he slowly draws his hips back and pushes inside of you again.

The sensation is glorious. It’s mind numbing. It’s like the best drug you’ve ever felt and you know that you need more of it.

He holds onto your hips and Keigo seizes your waist as they both begin to move in tandem, slowly at first, but working their way to a pace that has you at a loss for words. You couldn’t find any if you tried. None of you can apparently.

The only noises to be heard are your bodies all grinding against each other. The lewd squelching of fluids between your forms as you trade sinful noises and panting breaths back and forth. Eventually, you do find one phrase, but just one.

“Cum inside me, please. Please,” you whine, your voice pitching higher as you feel another orgasm building, this one threatening to tear you apart in the best way. “Cum i-inside.”

“We’re gonna breed you so fuckin’ good, doll,” Touya promises without missing a beat. “I promise.”

They seem to have mastered their movements. Together, the two of them drive you steadily towards your end whilst chasing their own. You snap first, of course, howling with pleasure as your writhe on top of them, your walls contracting impossibly tight around both of their cocks.

Keigo cradles your head and kisses the top of it, whispering praises and Touya hunches forward to do the same, speaking them right into your ear as both of them keep driving themselves inside of you with unparalleled need.

Keigo finishes next, his eyes snapping shut as he lets out a long, loud moan, his rhythm stuttering just as Touya finds his end. His head snaps up as he leans back and grips your hips with bruising force, delivering a few more good thrusts while letting out a primal groan before his thrusts become sloppy and begin to taper off as he lays himself across your back again.

The three of you are left a sweaty, blissful mess on the bed. You’re so wonderfully full. So much so that you’re leaking all over both of them, but neither of them seem to care and neither do you. It’s as if the world has stopped for a minute and you’re all floating outside of time and space, suspended in this moment.

“So good for us,” Touya finally murmurs after who knows how long. He gently grabs your chin to guide your face towards his once more, a lazy smile on his lips as he captures yours in a decidedly sweet kiss. “Happy Halloween, doll.”

thank you for reading! I hope you have/had a safe & happy halloween!

#dabi x reader #hawks x reader #dabi smut #hawks smut #touya todoroki x reader #keigo takami x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha smut #touya x reader #keigo x reader #touya smut #keigo smut #mha smut

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wynnyfryd · 25 days

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 63

part 1 | part 62 | tumblr masterlist | ao3

cw: references to canonical horror. short update today while i restructure some stuff in the next scene <3

“I’m staying with him,” Steve says, toeing a weed in the soft soil. Testing the give. Thinks maybe he’ll be doing that for the rest of his life.

“Uh,” Robin objects. They’re at the top of the hill again, halfway to the car — everyone but Eddie, who refused to leave the boathouse after telling them in horrific detail how a cheerleader floated up to the ceiling and popped like a cheap balloon, and whose pale, frightened face Steve can see staring at them through a grimy window, two black dots hardly daring to blink.

“Steve.”

“Huh?”

Max calls him a total space-case.

Robin groans up at the sky. "As much as we would all love to have a spooky sleepover with you two under a tarp—”

“Mm, would we love that?” Dustin wonders.

“—I'm not so sure our parents would be too thrilled about us not coming home when there's a freaky evil killer magician on the loose!"

Max snorts at that; mutters under her breath. “My mom probably wouldn’t mind.”

Dustin whines, “Mine would!”

Three people turn in unison to lay into him for being a dick, but he’s already holding up his hands in surrender, cringing so hard it folds his face like crumpled paper. “Sorry,” he winces. “Sorry. That was rude.”

“Yep,” Max agrees with a flat smack of her lips.

Eddie's still waiting by the window.

Steve just nods at them — arms folded, shoulders broad. "Dustin’s right.” He turns to Robin. “You both are.”

“Thank you,” she sighs, the sound long and airy, sweet with relief that he's seen reason.

She takes a wide step toward the car.

Steve says, “Which is why I'm staying here, and you're all going home."

Her foot falls back down to the ground; legs stretched in a standing split, shoes slipping on wet grass. “Oh, my god." This sigh is sour. "Oh, my god, of course you are.”

“We’re not leaving you,” says Dustin.

“Wasn’t asking,” Steve replies.

Robin lets out a strangled noise of frustration and shimmies herself upright. "Steve, please!" She marches over. "I know you’re all” —her hands come up around her head, voice warbling; wooOoo-ooh— “about your boyfriend-slash-not-boyfriend-slash-whatever being in danger, and I get that, babe, I really do, but I don't! Know how! To drive!"

Steve turns to Max.

She’s looking right at them, mouth pinched in a flat line over the laugh she's holding back. Restrained as ever, but Steve can see the glimmer of excitement at the edge of her expression — the subtle twitch of her nostrils, the muscle jumping in her jaw.

I've driven it before.

"...Do not," he warns as he presses his keys into her palm; closes her fist around the metal, "fuck this up."

—

part 64

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my fic

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luveline · 7 months

Note

hi lovely! can i request trying to pick a horror movie to watch with remus or steve but they keep getting distracted by r? or they keep kissing her so she gets distracted? thank u <33

thank you love ♡ modern au

"You don't like gore, so no Saw." You rub your hand down the length of your legs, warming yourself in the autumn chill. "And I don't like new slashers, so we can forget Totally Killer."

"You're missing out, if James is to be believed," Remus says from just behind you. He must lean down, his voice closer and warmer by your ear when he adds, "but he doesn't have the best taste, bless. You want socks?"

"Come and sit down," you beg.

Remus is one of those guys where you're always pleading with him to slow down. When he gets started, he can't stop. Ever since he caught wind of you being cold he's been closing the windows tight, fiddling with the boiler, and now throwing a blanket over your legs. You pull on his arm until he deigns to sit next to you, immediately pushing your face into his neck. His hair tickles your face, soft brown waves that smell like macadamia oil. His cheek chubs with a smile as he turns in on you.

"What other options are there?"

"The new Pet Sematry," you say into his neck, rubbing your nose on him indulgently. "Uhm… ton of Blumhouse panky."

"Don't be a snob."

"M'not. S'just all a bunch of rubbish." You drag yourself away from him and turn your attention back to the TV, flicking through rows of new autumn movies to the 'Spooky Collection'. "Hocus Pocus 2?"

"No, thanks." Remus ignores what you're up to, bringing a hand to your face to guide your lips to his. You're not expecting it but you give him a little kiss, always happy for one if it's from him.

You're distracted by different possibilities on screen, pausing your half hearted kiss to ask, "What about a horror TV series?"

Remus kisses your cheek while you're busy. His hand skirts down your neck, laying it loving but still on the flat of your chest. "What about whatever you want?" he asks, the cartilage of his nose bending as he kisses, and kisses, hot flashes of affection that work their way to your jaw.

"I don't know what I want, that's the point." You laugh as he kisses under your jaw, a sweet spot he knows to leave well enough alone when you're not already at his mercy. It's too much. "Stop," you chasten.

Remus leans into the sofa, rubbing your kissed skin with the back of his hand. "Yeah, alright. Show me the TV programmes."

The hint of his Welsh accent lays heavy on 'programmes'. You resist the urge to repeat it and scroll down to the shows, all new and unexciting. "We'll have to watch Criminal Minds."

"That's not in the spirit of Halloween."

Remus is looking at you hard. You can feel his gaze on your cheek, and you know he's waiting for permission, or at the very least, wanting to ask for it.

You side eye him. "What's more scary than a serial killer?" you ask. Then, quickly, "Please kiss me again."

"You don't even want me to kiss you," he says.

"I always want you to kiss me–" You squeal as he descends on you, pushing you rough into the cushions. "But you have to pick what we're watching! Okay? I'm sick of always choosing."

"No problem," he says, kissing you smack dab on the lips. "In a minute." His smile begins to take form against yours, kissing and smiling and kissing some more, the colour of his laugh in the exhales of his breath.

"What about… uh…" You shudder as his lips part atop yours and encourage you to part your own, promptly forgetting what you'd been about to suggest as he pushes the taste of a cherry soother into your tongue. His arm wraps around the back of your head with a put upon aggression, hooking you in as he kisses you silly.

You laugh too hard to keep going and pull away, flustered, hands on his pinking cheeks. "Woah, Lupin, I know it's halloween, but if you wouldn't mind holding back your Hannibal-esque urges–"

Remus' turn to laugh, loud and brash as he squeezes another swift kiss to your cheek. He's still laughing as he stands, practically jogging down the hall and into the kitchen, away from his responsibility.

"Where are you going? You haven't picked a film!"

The fridge opens, bottles clinking in the door shelf. "I have to take the fruit strudel out, dove! You pick while I find the cream."

"Cheater," you mutter, fishing for the remote where it's escaped into the crack of the sofa cushions.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders era #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin blurb #marauders x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fanfiction #the marauders

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kitten4sannie · 8 months

Note

Hiya! So I feel like I don’t hear enough about incubus Seonghwa

(I’m so sorry I’m really bad at this. Congratulations though!!! I absolutely love your writings and my jaw dropped when I saw you followed me lol! ❤️❤️❤️)

⛧ seance smutfest ⛧

hi there sweetheart <33 nooo don’t apologize love it’s okay!! thank youu >< and pleasee how could i not? you’re the cutest spooky! and incubus seonghwa ….. (biting my entire fist off rn) you’re right tho omg there needs to be more demon hwa content,, so i must do my part at once!! i hope you enjoy~

incubus seonghwa has two things he adores most in the world (besides you ofc): depravity and pleasure. there’s nothing more that he loves than to combine the two <3

when he comes to visit you, he makes sure that he leaves you so fucked out that you can’t quite remember if him being there, with his lips and teeth on your neck, and his thick, pulsing cock pounding relentlessly into your stretched cunt was just a dream or not. however, you’ll know you didn’t just simply imagine it.

incubus seonghwa loves to leave his mark behind so his favorite plaything can remember him. whether it’s teeth indents and bruises on your neck, collarbone, thighs, or tits when he sucks and bites on them to his black heart’s content, or when he fucks load after load into you so far inside that it won’t stop dripping out even days after he’s had his fun with you <3

it’s not uncommon for demons to get possessive with their toys either. when incubus seonghwa has you bent over your bed with his overheated body pressed heavily into yours, balls-deep in your dripping cunt, with his arms held firmly around your waist and using your body like a fleshlight, he’ll make sure to press his lips against your ear and repeatedly growl out with each thrust, “mine, mine, mine. this is my cunt. all mine, but you know that, don’t you, sweetheart?”

incubus seonghwa is always so ravenous and filthy when it comes to defiling you, so he knows you wouldn’t dare to forget him. how could you? how could you possibly forget the way he has you folded up like a rag doll in any position that gives him the power to control you and make you take his cock in every one of your holes for hours. the way he fucks you raw until you’re lost in a lust-driven haze and spouting nonsense and then forces your trembling thighs open, only to slurp his cum out of you and spit it out into your drooling mouth. how he rubs the milky liquid around your tongue with his thumb and whispers, “be a good pet and swallow for me.”

you can’t forget incubus seonghwa. you know it and he knows it — and he’ll come give you a visit again to make sure that he’ll always be on your mind, forever and always <3

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

#ask #⛧ seance smutfest ⛧#ateez #ateez smut #seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #kpop smut

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flowersandbigteeth · 7 months

Text

Meeting your drider general

A/N: It's the middle of October, so I wrote a spider story ^_^

There have been a lot of requests for NSFW drider content. I don't plan on doing any NSFW of my other drider character Vass (he is just too pure 😳), so this is a completely different story in a completely different universe, literally.

General Plot: You've been stolen from your home by a lich, who has declared himself King and assigned a handsome drider general to watch over you, his Queen.

Word Count: 7k

Drider (Ruvain) x fem reader

TW: arachnophobia! THERE ARE SPIDERS! (<- heavy spooky, spider content), a rather graphic death of a minor character, bondage, nsfw drider smut, some graphic violent talk, mention of self harm, yandere behaviors and talk

“You must do it again,” the lich who called himself King hissed at you.

You tried not to glare, tried not to imagine his slow, agonizing death. The amulet he’d fuzed with his body prevented you from harming him, though if you had a single second left in your life where that amulet was gone, you would use it to cut off his cock and feed it to him. You’d spend your last moments smiling as he bled out while he choked to death.

Instead, you lifted the spoon to your lips and tipped the soup into your mouth. It was delicious, as all things were in this castle, but you only tasted ash.

“Yes, that’s more like a Queen,” he cooed, brushing his hand over your hair.

His cold fingers drifted further to your cheek, and you forced yourself not to jerk your body away. Since you’d been captured only a few days earlier, you asked yourself if it was worth waiting to seek revenge. You could end yourself and join the family King Camus had slaughtered to obtain you in the afterlife.

Perhaps you were too much of a coward, but you liked to think that one day you would find a way out of this trap, and then you would take your revenge.

Camus was the cruel ruler of the country of Ventirest, where you’d been born.

You would have lived and died in the small town Cerulle, where your family lived as ranchers, if Camus hadn’t come riding through on a countryside tour. He just happened to see you leading a cow through the market and, in his words, “fell in love.”

That was a lie. Camus didn’t love anything but himself. He wasn’t a popular king, but he had that amulet and an army of monsters to keep the mostly rural country in line. You all toiled to pay his high taxes, though you made very little. He’d sent a page to your father to inform him you’d been chosen as his Queen and that your future was secure.

Perhaps your family would have thanked him for your good fortune if it were a different King, but your parents were only afraid. How long until he grew bored of you and snuffed you out? They tried to hide you, saying you’d run off, and they couldn’t find you. Camus sent his dogs to sniff you out, and when they found you, your family was punished for protecting you. They were all killed, everyone who carried your family name, and you were thrown in his carriage on your way to the Capital.

So, for the past two mornings, you’d wondered to yourself if this was all a waste of time. You pretended to be obedient. You did as he said and let him touch you, though you feared the day that his advances would grow more intimate. He’d promised you that you were lucky that he found you so desirable but was willing to give you a few days to “acclimate” before he forced you into his bed.

You shuddered at the thought of his cold body, which carried the stench of rotting corpses touching your warm skin.

“Master! Master!” one of Camus’ servants yelled, running in with a pile of maps and books in his arms.

“What is it?” Camus snapped. “I’m in the middle of an etiquette lesson with my Queen. What can be so important?”

“Of course, I would only interrupt you if it were dire!” the servant said, throwing himself to his knees in a bow. “And it is dire!”

Scrolls and books flew everywhere as he prostrated himself.

“Well, get on with it. What’s the matter?” Camus barked.

“There’s an uprising, Your Majesty,” he whimpered, afraid he’d be killed as the messenger. “The villages of the west, where you obtained your Queen, have sworn to overthrow you for stealing a child of the land! They mean to take her back to her home.”

Camus snorted, but your heart skipped in your chest. The people of the land came together for you? To seek revenge on your behalf? Your eyes misted with tears. You knew the people of the land were good and just. Their loyalty to a mere farm girl touched you deeply. Inside, you also wept for them. Camus was an immortal lich. You knew of no way to kill him. Many of the people who rode for you would die.

“I didn’t steal her! I am the Goddess's chosen ruler of this land! All women are mine,” he snarled. “I could take every farm girl in this country, and I would still not be wrong. Perhaps I will after I’ve rendered their heads from their necks!”

“Of course, of course,” the servant said. “I am only repeating the reports. I would never-”

“Ruvain!” Camus shouted to nowhere in particular, and from the vaulted ceiling, cloaked in shadows, a drider appeared, elegantly sliding down a length of silk. Despite and maybe because of his bulbous body and eight brown legs, he was incredibly handsome. His eyes shimmered a rich gold, and his hair matched, laying over his tan shoulder in a thick braid.

“You called, Your Majesty?” the half man, half spider, asked, his voice smooth as the silk he’d arrived on.

“I need to convene with my generals. Guard the Queen!” Camus snapped.

The drider looked a little offended.

“Am I not a general, Your Radiance? Have I been demoted?” he asked.

Camus let out a wet laugh.

“No, but you’re the ugliest of the bunch,” he chortled. “I can’t leave my new Queen with someone too pretty, lest she get the wrong idea. Your eyes alone would send any woman running.”

You felt outraged, not only that he questioned your character, but that he’d called this beautiful creature ugly.

The drider’s eight eyes met yours for a moment. They shined like gold coins, and you saw they held the same fire and hate. He, too, was putting on an act.

He gave Camus a deep bow.

“As you wish, Your Highness,” he said, and Camus ran out of the room, dragging the poor servant behind him.

When you were alone, you took the measure of the drider.

“I don’t suppose you’d agree to lose me accidentally, would you?” you asked. “I can just slip out of the window over there. I’ll give you a slap if you want to say I fought you.”

He let out a chuckle that made your heart flutter.

“It is wise to let the King have his way,” he said vaguely, though he circled you, looking more closely.

“I don’t like that he called you ugly,” you said, looking deeper into his eight gold eyes. “The only ugly one here is him. He smells like rot. You can smell that, can’t you? Everyone pretends…Anyway, I think you’re very handsome, actually. I quite like your legs, if I’m to be honest. And your eyes are…arresting…uh, in a…ah good way.”

At that, the drider smiled, revealing large, pointy teeth that sent a quake to your stomach.

“He bathes in perfume,” he commented evasively, rescuing you from your own awkwardness.

“Well, it’s not working. The perfumer should be shot…or maybe that’s just how bad he smells,” you said.

The drider looked amused.

“He hasn’t yet conquered you? Has he?” he asked.

“If I could stab him in the neck, I would,” you admitted, clutching the silver spoon you held. “Only it wouldn’t work, would it? He’s warded himself cleverly.”

“You don’t fear retribution? Telling all this to his general?” he asked, touching a lock of your hair and examining it.

“I don’t believe he’s conquered you, either,” you said. “I’d bet my life on it. You want out of here just as much as I do. What’s keeping you? You’re strong…and very stealthy, I might add. How long were you watching from the ceiling?”

He tipped his head, interested in you. Everyone around Ruvain whimpered and cowered in front of Camus; you were very different.

“Where is a monster like me to go?” he asked. “The village from where you came would never accept me. If I didn’t work for Camus, I would have to live in the forest, where some intrepid knight would come for my head on a quest, thinking I had a magic liver or some other such nonsense. I was stolen from a land far from here, and I’m unsure how to return..”

“So you bide your time serving that asshole?” you asked.

He looked thoughtful.

“I thought having access to the royal library would produce some results,” he admitted. “Camus pulled me through a portal. I can’t take a ship back. For all I know, he’s taken me from another universe entirely. In fact, that’s how he obtains all of his ‘monsters.’ To answer your other question, I’ve been watching you since you arrived.”

“And in all this time, you’ve found nothing?” you asked.

He frowned.

“Camus has a secret workshop that I think holds the answers I seek,” he said, “but I can’t get access to it. It’s warded, and if I tried, Camus would know and order my death. I have to approach it very carefully.”

“Slimy bastard,” you grumbled, and Ruvain gave you another of his silky chuckles.

“It is very frustrating, but I wouldn’t say I’ve found nothing. I’ve certainly found something,” he said, his eyes flashing.

“Well, is it useful?” you asked.

His eight eyes blinked in an eerie cascade.

“Only time will answer that question,” he said.

“Care to share?” you said, and he gave you a wide smile.

“We’ve only just met. I can’t reveal all of my secrets,” he said.

You scrubbed your hair and growled your frustration.

“Since I’ve come here, it’s been nothing but secrets,” you huffed. “I miss my ranch. I miss my family. He took the only good things in my life, and now…now I’m just a doll for him to dress.”

“Know this (Y/N): you have my protection,” he said.

You sighed.

“You don’t have to make me promises like that, Ruvain,” you said. “I know you’re only looking after me for Camus. I don’t need your lies. I’m all too aware of the truth.”

He tipped his head and gave you a curious look.

“You will learn the truth of things soon,” he said ominously.

You wanted to ask more, but Camus came in like a tornado, his face the picture of rage.

“How could they?” he snarled. “They are nothing…ants, and they think they can capture me? I’ll destroy them…crush them under my boot.”

His spooky eyes, milky white, turned in your direction.

“I’ll have you tonight!” he said, which seemed to cheer him up a bit.

He crossed the room and cupped your cheeks in his hands, meeting your gaze.

“You’re thrilled, aren’t you, darling?” he asked. “You’ve been waiting for my body, haven’t you? Saving yourself for me? I won’t make you wait any longer, and I’ll fly your virgin blood as a flag for those vermin to see as they arrive. Before they die, they’ll know I’ve taken you and filled you with my seed.”

He was too frantic, his eyes filled with madness, to notice your fear. You did not want him to touch you, and you weren’t a virgin. You trembled, wondering what he would do when he discovered that fact. It wouldn’t be your virgin blood on that sheet; it would come straight from your veins.

He clapped his hands and grinned, his crooked, rotting teeth making bile rise in your throat.

“I must prepare myself!” he beamed. “Our first night of passion and the counteroffensive must be timed perfectly!”

His eyes flicked to the drider.

“Take my Queen into the city, to the fashion district,” he said. “I want her to choose something just for me. A dress, lingerie, oils and perfumes!”

You were surprised he didn’t want to dress you himself, but it seemed he wanted to feel that you adored him, proving so with whatever you chose. You wanted to be sick.

“Don’t let me down, (Y/N),” he said, winking at you.

You gave him a tight bow.

“It will be as you wish, Your Highness,” you choked out, and he hurried out of the room.

You gave Ruvain a serious look.

“End me, Ruvain,” you said. “I’m too much of a coward to put a knife to my own skin. Do me this favor. I won’t let that…monster touch me! He’ll have fuck my cold corpse.”

Ruvain shook his head.

“There are so many reasons I won’t grant you your request, but the most important for you to know is that death will not end your misery. If you kill yourself, If I killed you…he would resurrect you…tie you to him for eternity,” he explained. “A far worse fate than a few minutes underneath him.”

Your heart turned cold as ice, and you gasped.

“No,” you murmured. “He can’t! I can’t…”

“He will,” Ruvain insisted, lowering himself so you were eye to eye.”Camus has no real magic but we can get out of artifacts. He experiments with alchemy. Reanimating bodies, fusing what few relics he finds to living hosts…But I told you. I will protect you.”

“How?” you gasped. “He holds all the cards.”

“Well, the window wasn’t a good option, but now we have some time to play with,” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “First, we need to get a message out to your kin. They will only get themselves murdered coming here when we’ve just escaped.”

“Escaped?” you asked. “What do you mean? You just said you wouldn’t let me escape.”

He smiled down at you.

“I told you I would protect you,” he said. “I’ve been working out a plan since I first saw you.”

You blinked up at him.

“You-you have?” you asked.

He gave you a grave look.

“I’m no better than Camus,” he admitted. “I won’t return you to your countrymen, but I will protect you. In my web, you will always be safe. Do you…do you hate me?”

Your mouth dropped open, and you slowly shook your head. Your cheeks were burning like hot irons. The handsome drider thought he would take you for his own? Fear and uncertainty flickered within you, but Ruvain didn’t smell like death, and making love to him would be no hardship, assuming driders and humans could make love.

“Um..n-no,” you said. “I don’t hate you…”

He smiled, showing a white, sharp fang.

“That’s enough for me,” he said. “Now to your message. I have many spies that can reach out to your countrymen, but they won’t believe a warning coming from me. You must record one on a recording crystal. You’ll tell them you’ve escaped and are fleeing, not to come for you.”

He gave you another sobering glance.

“Once you record this, however, there is no doubt it will eventually fall into Camus’s hands. I have many spies, but so does he. He will know you ran from him, and he will spare no expense to find and punish you,” he said.

“Wait, wait!” you said, waving your hands. “What about you? You have a mission here. We can’t run away without whatever he has in his lab!”

He smiled again.

“Don’t worry your pretty head over that,” he said. “With a gorgeous companion, my time in this realm will be far more…pleasant. Returning to my homeland can wait.”

You took a step forward, setting a hand on his fuzzy leg.

“I don’t want to tear your dreams from you, Ruvain,” you said. “It’s not fair. My family is gone…they’re never coming back, but yours are waiting for you.”

His face softened into an expression that was hard to imagine a powerful drider would have.

“You’re still very young,” he assured you. “People assume dreams are static things, that they are losing something if they change. That’s not true at all. Dreams morph and blossom like flowers. You are stealing nothing from me and giving me so much more in return.”

Again, your cheeks burned from his tenderness. If he had some nefarious plan for you, he was doing a damn good job breaking down your walls.

He chuckled.

“Camus is going to be very angry when he realizes you walked right out of the front door to escape him,” he said. “I kind of wish I’d be here to see it.”

You gave Ruvain a shy nod, and he waved a hand for you to proceed.

“After you, my Queen,” he said.

—

The sun was sinking low in the sky when you climbed into the royal carriage. Ruvain walked alongside as it made its way slowly through the bustling city. The citizens were used to seeing Camus’s monsters running errands, and many of them had even made friends when they went to drink in the bars and visit the brothels.

They were much more afraid of who might be inside the carriage. No one wanted to be in the King’s eyeline. It would only lead to ruin. Ruvain had given you a recording crystal, and in the privacy of the carriage, you’d made your message and returned it to him.

You’d told those who would avenge you that you were escaping and going into hiding. You told them not to look for you for their own safety but that you would send a message later to assure them you were okay.

You could not tell them to drop their uprising. Those who would stand up to their King did so for many more reasons than a single woman; you were only the last straw. A revolt was a long time coming, so you sent them the Goddess’s blessing and only asked them to be smart and safe. Do not fly into battle blinded by rage, you’d warned. The King is wiley and immortal. You must be quiet and clever if you mean to unseat him.

Your heart pounded as you entered the fashion district. Ruvain insisted you needed to be seen shopping, or the King’s spies would realize you were running immediately. Ruvain worked best in darkness, so you would stay out until sunset.

You went to shop after shop poking around. Not intending to wear any of it, you purchased the most expensive, obnoxious items you could, happy to be spending the King’s money frivolously. Your heart pounded in your chest as the sun set. It was time to put your plan into action.

Ruvain took you to a spa to have you bathed, plucked, and oiled up like a dinner chicken. Only you didn’t do any of that. The moment you were checked in, you asked one of the ladies for the bathroom and slipped out of the back door.

Ruvain was supposed to meet you in the alley on the other side, and the two of you would climb the rooftops out of the city.

That’s not who greeted you when you opened the door. Yes, Ruvain was there, but he was surrounded by six of Camus’s monsters– three nagas and three minotaurs. Camus stood there, smugly tossing the crystal you’d sent in his hand.

“Tsk. Tsk.” he said, peering at you in the torchlight. “I offered you everything, and you chose to betray me. You should know this spider is a devil. He would have eaten you once you left the city. However, I am kind, and you are just a naive farmgirl; I’ll give you a chance at redemption. Come to me.”

He held his hand out to you. You growled at him. Now that your escape plan had been discovered, there was no reason to pretend.

“I’d rather he eat me one limb at a time than fuck your zombie body!” you snapped, then spat at him.

Ruvain gave you a glance filled with both worry for your mouthing off and also sudden determination. Camus’s face turned to one of pure rage.

“You snivelling bitch! You’re nothing! I could have had you and then tossed you in a ditch, but I offered you the world! To be a Queen!”

“You’re nothing but a filthy murderer who hides behind creatures with nowhere else to go!” you shouted. “Those who have come to challenge you do so with nothing but pitchforks and torches. They have more spine than you’ll ever have!”

“You won’t speak to me that way!” he snarled, the nagas at his side slithering towards you and one grabbing you by each arm.

“I’m going to let you watch while my monsters tear this traitor’s legs off one by one!” Camus promised, glaring at Ruvain.

His face had lost the fear it held and was only a mask of indifference.

“Perhaps,” he said, eyeing the minotaurs approaching him. “You are not the only one protected by magic. You know so little of the creatures you've detained."

He murmured some words under his breath, and in the flickering firelight, a wave of darkness roiled around you. It looked like the earth itself was writhing, a shiny black, living oil…only it wasn’t liquid. You couldn’t tell what it was exactly until the wave began climbing one of the naga’s bodies. Then it was all too clear; millions of spiders rolled over him like the tide rising.

His screams pierced the night air as he frantically tried to brush them off.

It was no use; the wave kept coming, and more and more spiders filled the alley, climbing the walls and smothering the torches.

“I’ll give you a choice,” Ruvain told the other monsters. “You can die like your friend is going to die…or you can hand me the girl and join me.”

“Don’t you dare!” Camus screeched, watching in horror as the naga’s face, covered in spiders, began to bloat, pustules forming and popping from their venomous bites until he all but dissolved in front of you.

The other monsters looked horrified, and a moment later, you stumbled to the ground as they dropped you.

“Come here, darling,” Ruvain hissed, waving a hand at you.

You scrambled across the ground, the sea of spiders parting in your path.

Ruvain scooped you up and set you on his back.

“You fool!” Camus snarled, tearing his eyes away from the bloated, deformed body beside him. “You can’t harm me! I’m invincible!”

Ruvain laughed.

“I don’t need to harm you. In fact, I need you alive,” he said. He nodded at two of the minotaurs. “Bring him. We’re returning to the castle. I’m sending you all home.”

Camus screamed and howled, but carrying him against his will was no harm, so his amulet did nothing. His only power was in the monsters he wielded. He carried no other weapons because he was arrogant and smug. His monsters would follow his order to the letter because they had nowhere else to go.

The minotaurs dragged him behind you through the back alleys. Everyone in the city knew not to meddle in anyone else’s affairs. Camus himself had set such a precedent. So they ignored his cries, as they’d been taught. Shutters closed, and doors were locked as you proceeded to a secret back entrance to the castle.

As you moved through the castle, the monsters you passed were quite happy to let you through. Ruvain told them simply that he was sending them home, and they fell in line, interested to see how this played out. They all had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

You stopped in front of a door covered in runes.

“Open it,” Ruvain barked.

Camus, still filled with pride, shook his head.

“Never! I’ll never bow to a bunch of mindless creatures!” he spat.

Ruvain shrugged.

“I can’t hurt you; we all know that,” he said. “But spiders crawling in and out of all your orifices for the rest of your miserable eternity causes no direct harm. I can’t imagine it will be pleasant, though.”

If Camus’s face could blanch, it would have.

“Let me go; I have to use my hands!” he snapped.

The minotaurs looked to Ruvain for guidance, and after a thought, he nodded.

Camus stumbled forward, turning three of the runes so they formed a pattern you wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t seen it after it was solved. The heavy stone door slid open to a set of stone stairs leading downward.

“Let’s go, him first,” Ruvain said, shoving Camus forward.

The parade of monsters followed Camus into the darkness. You worried he’d tricked you all when you finally reached a basement that smelled of rot. You coughed and covered your mouth.

“What is that smell?” you asked, but it was soon clear.

The laboratory, if you could call it that, was filled with dissected bodies. Monsters, people, you couldn’t tell one from the other as they were all flayed like raw fish. The only other notable thing other than sets of alchemy tools, bits of metal, and flesh was a large round mirror on one wall.

“Hold him,” Ruvain told the minotaurs, “don’t let him touch anything. I know what I’m looking for.”

Ruvain set you on the ground and started shuffling through papers. He gave a cheerful shout when he found the right scroll and a small book. You peeked over his shoulder, curious.

“This is the spell to take us home,” he said, then showed you the book. “These are the coordinates of where he pulled us all from.”

“Now then,” he said. “Since we no longer need him, what shall we do with him?”

You all looked around the room,y our eyes landing on the torture equipment, disappointed you couldn’t just dissect him like he’d done to the poor souls rotting on the tables.

One of the nagas had an idea.

“Let’s lock him away, where no one will find him, and he’ll never escape,” he said, nodding to a small inset in the wall near the back of the room where a candelabra would normally go. It was just the right size for a body.

“I expect your silk is too strong to break with his fingers or teeth," the naga said.

Ruvain's face filled with an evil smile.

“That it is, friend!” he said, “I can spin a silk so strong even steel swords or fire won’t break it.”

“No! No! You can’t!” Camus screamed, but it was no use.

Locking him up caused no direct harm, so there was nothing he could do. As a lich, he did not need to eat or breathe, so a comfy coat of spider silk was harmless to his health.

He cried and begged, promising everyone in the room the world, but Ruvain simply took him in his arms, taking his time as he wrapped line after line of silk around him. The monsters listened to each scream and cry with satisfied smiles until Ruvain stuffed his mouth with spider silk and sealed it up. He finished wrapping as Camus whimpered, a mummy of white silk. Then he stuck him in the inset and sealed the whole thing up with a web of more silk. You couldn’t even hear him inside. From the outside, it looked like a nasty spider infestation but nothing more.

The monsters gave one another high fives as their task was complete.

“Now to send you all home,” Ruvain said.

He scurried over to the mirror, twisting and turning various runes until a world appeared in the glass.

“Home!” the minotaurs gasped, racing forward through it before Ruvain had even waved them on.

You winced, expecting them to shatter the glass, but instead, they passed right through it. They ran through without a single glance back. One after another, he put in the coordinates of each of the monsters’ homes, and they left, some of them thanking him, others so excited they simply ran before the chance passed them by. When every monster was gone, you gave Ruvain a sad look.

“It’s time for you,” you said, smiling a little. “You were my savior, and I can never thank you enough for that, but I understand you need to return home.”

He smirked at you.

“Now I can go home whenever I like,” he told you. “And perhaps I will someday, but now we have your world to attend to.”

You looked at him, confused.

“What do you mean? You’re free? Why aren’t you running like the rest?” you asked.

“Because my world never needed me and this world needs a Queen,” he said. “And a Queen needs her guardian knight and first general. With the word of their Queen, your world will accept me, not as a monster, but as your companion.”

He bowed in front of you, taking your hand and kissing it.

“I offer you my life, Your Radience,” he said, then peeked up and winked at you. “But don’t think because you’re my Queen, I’m ever letting you go. You’re mine, and we will rule this land together.”

He stood and looked around.

“Now, let’s get out of this filthy place. I’ll have the mirror moved somewhere that doesn’t smell like death and seal this miserable laboratory up forever,” he said. “I’ll be sure to make it look like every other wall in this castle so no one has the bright idea to go exploring looking for treasure and instead finding an angry lich.”

He returned you to his back, and the two of you ascended back to the empty castle. Footsteps echoed through the halls, and soon, you were faced with a bunch of farmers carrying torches and pitchforks.

“Free her from the creature!” someone shouted, but you held up your hands in panic, worried they would hurt Ruvain.

“My companion is not your enemy, people of the land!” you shouted.

They all looked at one another, confused.

“He’s one of Camus’s monsters!” one of them said.

“NO, no. You are very wrong,” you explained. “Ruvain has freed us from Camus and sent all of the monsters back to their homes. They never wanted to be here to start. Ruvain is mine. You will not take him from me!”

The villagers looked confused, but they’d noticed on the way in that no one had put up a fight. The monsters appeared to be gone, and the castle was empty, but what servants hadn’t run the moment no one was looking.

“Her Majesty (Y/N) gives me too much credit,” Ruvain said, smiling down at you. “She is the one that deserves your thanks for freeing us from the nasty lich. I am only her servant, bound by the same gratitude as you should be. She is my Queen and should be yours as well for her service to the kingdom. There is a power vacuum now that the lich is gone. Do you want it filled with some other despot who cares nothing for you or a woman from your own land? She’s brave, kind, intelligent, and beautiful. The countryside will welcome a humble Queen who is one of their own.”

Ruvain bowed to you deeply. The lead villager gave you an odd look and turned to discuss the issue with his fellow countrymen. A moment later, torches were extinguished, and pitchforks hit the floor with a clang as the villagers bowed as well.

“Long live Queen (Y/N)!” they shouted in unison.

You couldn’t help your burning cheeks, but you knew your kin needed strength, not a shy girl, so you tipped your head.

“I promise to serve you well,” you said as Queenly as possible. “Now, we must rebuild what Camus has broken. You are the bravest, strongest citizens of Ventirest. You came here knowing you would face monsters with only your farmtools and spirits. I can never truly express how your care for a simple farm girl moved me. I would be honored to have you form my guard if you are willing.”

“We will begin to rebuild tomorrow,” Ruvain said. “For tonight, you have traveled a long way, and the Queen has accomplished much in only a few hours. Let’s all rest. Run and tell the heralds to inform the people Camus is defeated. Tonight, they should celebrate their freedom.”

The villagers gave Ruvain uncertain glances, but mostly because it was hard not to be frightened by such a large creature, especially one with eight legs. You encouraged them with a nod, and they gathered their tools and took off to the barracks where the monsters used to sleep when they ran the guard.

“I’ve told you a lie,” Ruvain admitted when they’d gone as he sat you on his back.

“What is that?” you asked, your heart fluttering, hoping he wouldn’t let you down, that he didn’t do this all to trick you.

“I told them you needed rest when, really, I just wanted you all to myself,” he said.

His gold eyes glinted with mischief.

“Should I be worried?” you asked, your voice wan, and he chuckled.

“Only if you don’t like orgasms,” he said, crawling down the hallway towards the unused Queens chambers.

You’d have to fumigate the former King’s room and bed. It all smelled like rot.

Your cheeks burned again at his words, and a very special tingle shot down your spine to your core.

When you entered the room, he set you down on the floor, sliding the door shut behind you with one elegant leg. You watched, your heart racing, as he slowly and deliberately lit the fireplace, then the candles, casting your bedroom in soft, flickering light.

When his gold eyes finally met yours, they were full of hunger.

"You said you'd rather I eat you than for that lich to fuck you," he hummed, circling you to take in your form.

He lowered his head, sniffing your neck.

"I liked that," he purred, and a shudder that was something between fear and excitement rolled through you.

You let out a yip, as he pounced on you, taking you up in his arms and climbing gracefully to a shadowy corner at the arch of the vaulted curling.

Candlelight flickered in his eyes so that they glowed in the darkness.

Another surprised yelp echoed against the stone, mixed with the sound of fabric tearing as Ruvain ravenously stripped your dress from you with his teeth. Strips of gold and indigo fluttered to the floor far below.

“You’ll never don human clothing again,” he insisted. “I’ll have dressed made of spider silk, so you always wear my mark.”

When you were bare, he examined every part of you, all the white spinning web he crisscrossed to form a large nest for the two of you to rest.

"Wh-what are you doing?" you asked, your breath shaking as one arm, then the other was bound by silver silk.

He grinned at you.

"This is how driders mate," he hummed, diligently tying elegant knots to bind your limbs. Your legs were tied open, and your neck and hips pulled slightly so your back was arched, your breasts presented to him.

You had to admit the knots and lace he formed with strong, nimble fingers were beautiful and complex. You trembled both with a touch of fear and a lot of desire. His chest and arms were chiseled from a lifetime of climbing around lofty places. Your eyes followed his elegant movements.

The men you'd known from town were stocky and strong from a farmer's life of chopping wood and eating beef, but Ruvain's figure was all athletic elegance. His muscles were chorded and lean, flexing as he tightened one knot and then another.

It was a delight to watch.

When he seemed happy with the lace of web he'd tied you up with; his attention turned to you. A finger traced your breasts, then drifted lower where his eyes ate up the tender flesh between your thighs.

"I've been dying to taste you, darling," he said, glancing up.

His lips brushed yours lightly at first, and then as if you were a sweet surprise, they landed more firmly, his tongue pushing into you.

"Mmm," he groaned, tasting you as it slid over yours.

When he pulled away, he looked ravenous.

Lowering his head, he returned to examining you between your thighs, fingers parting your folds.

"I'm fascinated by your anatomy. Your two legs hide such a pretty treasure."

He circled your clit, making you moan. Never in your life had you thought being trussed up would get you hot, but your cunt was dripping for him. You squirmed in the soft silk bindings, testing their tightness. You were his prey. He could do what he liked to you.

Unable to hold himself back any longer, his head lowered, a long, searing tongue collecting the moisture at your slit.

"Mmm," he hummed, licking you with long strokes between pressing kisses onto the inside of your thighs. "I love how soft you are. You're going to feel so good on my cock."

His tongue explored your channel, making you let out a loud gasp.

"Mmm, Ruvain," you murmured, making him chuckle, the silky laugh that made your nipples harden.

"Are you eager for me?" he asked, teasing you with a finger as his eyes focused on your face, a smug smirk on his lips.

"P-please Ruvain," you whimpered, every inch of your skin tense and sparkling, begging for release.

"Be patient, little human," he purred. "I'm still exploring."

One finger circled your back hole experimentally before two more entered your pussy.

"Ahhh!" you mewled, twisting in your bonds.

He lowered his head again, licking and sucking your clit until your pleading and sobbing filled the room. His fingers worked inside you gently, the third teasing you where you'd never been touched before. You didn't know it could feel good, but he drove you mad. He brought you higher and higher until you cracked, and an orgasm bloomed from deep in your core and blossomed over your whole body.

Your nipples especially were tight and desperate for his touch.

He pulled his fingers out of you, sucking your flavor off the ones covered in your juices.

"Mmm," he said, briefly closing his eyes as he savored you.

When you'd regained your senses, Ruvain was perched over you, palming his cock as he watched you. His other hand pinched a nipple, twisting it gently to see your response. The eyes you were trying to keep open squeezed shut as he toyed with them, soon leaning down to play with them with his tongue.

"So sensitive," he growled, and you felt his sharp teeth nip at the sensitive skin, "and so vulnerable. You're all mine. I could keep you up here forever and torture you, making you fall apart over and over again for me."

"I need you, Ruvain, please," you whimpered, your eyes on the large shaft he was stroking in his hand.

The smile on his lips widened to show all of his sharp teeth.

"I do like it when you beg," he hummed. "Your sweet pleas are very hard to resist."

He didn't make you wait any longer, sheathing himself in your hot, wet cunt. He hissed, and his hands gripped your hips as he seated himself inside of you.

"You're searing inside," he groaned, sliding slowly out and thrusting back in with a bit more force.

You jerked in the silk as he drove into you for several strokes, purely for the pleasure of breaching you, before his sense came back to him. His eyes shone as he kneaded your breasts and curled his body down to you to invade your mouth with his tongue. It moved against yours, mimicking the treatment your pussy was getting.

His powerful hips slammed into yours, held firm by his web. You cried out in his mouth, and you heard a lusty growl build in his throat. He pulled back, leaving your lips wet and shining.

"That's it my sweet little human, milk my cock," he hummed, never taking his eyes off of yours.

Your pussy was doing all of the work since you couldn't move, squeezing and spasming around his thick cock.

"You belong to me. Every inch of your tender flesh; your mouth, your cunt, your cute little asshole are mine to use and enjoy," he growled, one hand clutching your throat while he pounded harder and more raggedly.

"If anyone else touches what's mine, I'll kill them, slowly. You understand? I'm never letting you go. I'll never tolerate a competitor," he promised. "I'll let you perform your duties as Queen, but if you ever let anyone too close, I'll steal you away to my homeland, fucking your pretty body until you forget about this world altogether. I’ll make you my toy. You'll cum when I let you and beg me for my seed…and I will make you beg."

His threats were lost on you. Your thoughts were scattered, drowning in bliss as he filled you over and over again. Your pleasure was at his mercy. He could give it and take it away as he liked. Fortunately, at that moment, all he wanted to do was give.

His finger circled your clit, while he sucked on your nipples, pushing you closer and closer to your end.

"Beg me," he demanded. "Beg me to let you cum."

You would have agreed to anything.

"Please, please , Ruvain, please, don't stop," you wailed. "You feel so good. Please let me cum!"

He gave you a devious smile at you as his eyes rolled back in his head.

"Tell me you want me to fill you with my child," he demanded. "Tell me I'm the only one who gets to spend his seed in your womb."

Your eyes squeezed shut, hovering just on the tip of an explosion.

"Anything you want, Ruvain," you said. "I'll carry your child. I'll give my body to you; just please don't stop!"

He laughed, pleased that you were willing to be his, and doubled his efforts. His mouth crashed against yours, pulling your tongue into his mouth and stroking it. You felt pleasure in places you'd never felt before. Your lips and tongue were sparkling. Your breasts ached, brushing against his chest, your nipples hard points. And finally, your cunt felt like a vice on his cock, his thick shaft hitting every sensitive spot.

You detonated in his arms, the world dissolving, and your only conscious understanding was Ruvain's scent, touch, and delicious, overwhelming pleasure. Colors exploded behind your eyes, and your body felt like fireworks. Your muscles went completely limp as Ruvain emptied his cum inside you. There was so much, waves of hot fluid gushing from your cunt. You heard it splash against the stone floor far below you from somewhere far away.

"I love you, (Y/N)," he breathed in your ear. "The moment he stole you from your village, you were mine. You may take time to feel the same tenderness for me, but I'm happy to wait."

He carefully extracted you from the nest he'd made, orienting himself so he could tie you to his chest with more silk to rest.

In any other circumstance, you would been frightened being so far up, but you felt perfectly safe tied to Ruvain's body, and your thoughts quickly muddied as you fell asleep.

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undertheorangetree · 7 months

Text

La Petite Mort (Ptolemaea)

Summary- Aemond has waited generations for this moment and he will not let it slip through his fingers.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ DDDNE. DUBCON. NSFW. Female reader. Dark Aemond. Blood. Gore. Kidnapping. Obsessive behaviour. Vampire mind control? Reincarnation. Biting. Vampire venom makes you horny. Fingering. Cunnilingus. P in V sex. Overstimulation. Technically character death. This is unhinged.

Author’s Note- It’s a spooky season special and I’m so nervous about this one besties. I know that vampire Aemond is a whole thing but it’s a thing for a reason that’s just his vibe. This is darker than usual so plz read the warnings and read at your own risk. Also special thanks to @aegonx for beta-ing for me ilysm🫶🏼The rest is on AO3 link belowww

dividers by me lmao

She knows she's screwed when her car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, but her phone battery dying all but confirms it.

Throwing it into the passenger seat with a guttural sigh, she drops her head into her hands and fights the urge to start crying in frustration. She knew that traveling at night was a bad idea but she had managed to talk herself out of her worries, convincing herself that she would be able to make good time with so few cars on the road. She regrets it now, stranded on the shoulder of some half abandoned backroad, no other people or cars in sight. The rain is coming down in buckets, heavy enough that she's surprised that it hasn't yet flooded the street, raindrops pounding on the roof of her car like a drum.

There isn't so much as a porch light back here. Nothing but heavy forest that makes her feel as if she is lost in time and she is sure the longer she is alone, the more likely her mind is to play tricks on her.

She flicks on her hazard lights as she tries to decide what best to do. Staying in her car seems unsafe somehow, stuck on the shoulder of the road beside a corner. Though the street is empty now, another car will show up at some point and she can already see the inevitable car crash in her mind's eye. But leaving the safety of her car seems just as bad.

She doesn't know what's in the surrounding woods and with visibility as bad as it is now, with the rain coming down and the moon just barely able to provide some semblance of light, there is no truly safe option.

There are no nearby homes. No other cars. No payphones or a way to charge her own phone. She is completely and hopelessly stuck.

Though she knows it's pointless, she still reaches for her phone, holding down on the power button in vain. The empty battery graphic flashes up at her, the charging cable beneath it feeling almost mocking now and grunts angrily, throwing it to the side again. But just as she is about to resign herself to a night of sleeping in her car until morning, there is a flash of headlights in her rearview mirror. She pokes her head up, eyebrows furrowed as she turns and watches a car slow until their window is equal to hers, the glass rolling down.

A man's face greets her, one that seems to be about her age. His face is contorted with vague concern as he looks at her, an eyepatch concealing a third of his face. He has a kind of air about him, regal and almost ethereal to the point where it's almost unsettling. It's nearly otherworldly in a way that almost feels... wrong.

Looking at him, she feels a primal lurch in her stomach, as if the man before her isn't quite right. It's no wonder she feels that way, with his near flawless skin and silver hair that must cost a fortune to dye. That's likely no problem, with how expensive his car looks. She thinks it must cost at least four times her own but she's thankful for just how ancient her car is now, rolling the manual crank until there is a large enough crack for her to speak, the rain immediately splattering inside and wetting both her door and face.

"Car trouble?" he asks and she forces a polite smile despite her irritation at her predicament.

"Unfortunately. Do you know if there's a gas station nearby?"

She had already been to a gas station this evening, less than an hour ago. Though her car had shown no signs of betrayal when she had been filling her gas tank, she thinks that it may be too far to walk to now.

The concern on his face morphs into sympathy. "None that will be open so late. Do you know what's wrong with it?"

She gives a frustrated shake of her head. "No idea. It was completely fine and then it just started sputtering and crapped out."

"Have you called a tow truck yet?"

The question makes her pause. As polite as this man has been thus far, she has no interest in informing him that her phone is dead. And though he has given her no reason to think otherwise, his line of questioning is beginning to border on a few too many to be seen as simple concern for a stranger. She wants to believe that is all it is but he's looking at her a little too earnestly for her to ignore, his eyes following her every move as if the rain threatens to shield his view.

"Not yet. I was going to try some friends first, try to save some money. They don't live far from here so I shouldn't have to wait long."

That’s a boldfaced lie but he doesn’t need to know that.

"I wouldn't leave your car here for long if I were you," he warns, turning to look over his shoulder toward the corner. "It would be best to call a tow truck to really save yourself some money. You'll have a couple thousand in damages if you leave it here."

Read the rest here

#Aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond x reader #Aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond x fem!reader #vampire!aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd smut #house of the dragon

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banquetwriter · 1 month

Note

hellooo! can i request johnnie x reader, where his tweets are about a song but the fans think they broke up because y/n also had a suspicious tweet like him!! thank you i hope you have a wonderful day!

୨୧ Assumptions ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ short (I'm sorry) fluff tbh

summary: ʚ the fans get the wrong idea when you and Johnnie tweet lyrics of his new song ɞ

Words: 1299

An: this is short but honestly it's so sweet and I loved doing this!!

You made sure to keep balance with the plate and cup in your hands as you approached your office room. You had finally convinced Johnnie to start editing in your office since he moved in. You both even set up a little recording spot for him complete with a spooky background.

You walked up to the door and knocked against it slightly using your foot. After a moment or two the door opened with a slightly worn-looking Johnnie. “Hey what's all this for?” he asked, opening the door for you. “Well you have been working so hard on your new song I thought I outta surprise you.”

You say with a big smile holding up his cup of tea and chips. “Eh, I'm really proud of this song. I just hope it, you know, does well,” he says with a short laugh at the end of his sentence. You smile while walking to the couch that is directly next to his editing chair.

The one you sat at and relaxed while he would stream. The whole world seemed so in love with you two dating. Everyone loved how well you two worked. And you loved it too. “I'm sure they will babe. I think you fucking killed it with this song,” you spoke moving your legs up to your chest and setting the food on the desk.

He smiles as you sit down in his chair and start to click around on his computer. You plucked a chip off of his plate scrolling around Twitter. “Hey, quit stealing my chips,” Johnnie said, staring at you accusingly.

You pause looking up at him, blinking slowly for a second. “When your dick gets bigger I will,” you said with a faux smile. He giggles at your comment, turning back to the computer, his fingers reaching for the coffee mug.

“Be careful, I think the tea is still pretty hot.” you half mumble the warning before putting the chip in your mouth. “I'll drink whatever the fuck I want bitch.” he says in a sassy, Timmy-esque voice. He takes a small sip of the tea before yanking the cup away from his mouth. “Fuck!” he shouts as the hot piqued burned his mouth.

You let out a loud laugh at his reaction, covering your mouth as you did so. “Aahh fuck you!” he yelps again searching for a drink of something colder. You snicker looking back down at your phone. Twitter was usually an awful place to be and it wasn't any different than this time.

You banned Johnnie from looking up his name on social media sites, and it wasn't good that you still did it but occasionally you liked to check in on fans and see what was popular amongst the fandom.

Most were hyping up the newest video you had posted this week and taking clips from it as reactions. Your fans were so funny, like genuinely. It blew you away that people found you so funny.

Of course, there were a select few that were not ideal. One about how You and Johnnie haven't posted in a while, and that you two must have broken up. They were not true by any means. With Johnnie's new song coming out soon it was easier for him to bulk-record videos so he had more time during the day to work on it.

Johnnie had finally calmed down from burning the shit out of his mouth. “How much of the new song have you teased?” you asked using your foot to spin his chair so he faced you. You continued to munch on a few chips, eating all the food you brought for your boyfriend.

“Honestly not much just that I have a new song coming out, not even a date or anything,” he said, grabbing a chip too. “Mmm we should start doing more to promote it, well sorry, you should do more this isn't my song,” you murmur using your ring finger to tap around your phone with your chip-dust-covered hands.

“Mmm, I feel like it's both of our songs in a way, I mean yeah I performed it and edited it but you helped me write it. You're also helping me by taking care of me.” he gestured to his tea as he took a sip.

You smiled at his words. It was nice when credit was given for things like this. This was Johnnie's song but you did help him with the lyrics. It was about the heartbreak of getting older, the lyrics sounding like you were talking to time.

The idea simmered down into a few words; it was like breaking up with time. The lyrics were akin to a breakup song. It was a cool idea and one you dealt with as you grew older. You even starred in the music video as the “time” character.

“What were we thinking of doing?” he murmured with his mouth full. “Maybe tweeting a few of your lyrics? Something you wouldn't normally rant about I guess,” you suggested dusting your fingers off.

“That could be cool, we should do it from the chorus or something,” he said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “Yeah for sure,” you mumbled absentmindedly, moving the chair with your foot still.

Over the next few days you both tweeted lyrics from the song. ‘I will forever mourn the loss of us’ and ‘You can't stay innocent to it forever’ got the most likes. Unfortunately, you two were now trending. “What the fuck are we going to do?” you asked looking at the #Johnnieandy/nbreakup tag.

“Just ignore them? The song comes out soon anyway,” he reassured you, his thumb rubbing the side of your thigh. Your legs rested on his lap as you cuddled up next to him.

You still didn't like the idea that everyone thought you two broke up. You can see how someone might think that from your guy’s tweets. And yes you shouldn't assume something about someone online but that just means your fans care about you. Doesn't it?

After a few days, you both released another video on each other's YouTube channels. The entire comments were filled with asking where the other person was. If you two had really broken up this would have been awful. Thank god you hadn't.

You both decided that you two should make at least one video addressing the rumors. On one of your tik toks someone had commented ‘Did you and Johnnie break up?’ so you replied to the comment with a video.

“Hey guys so a lot of people have been asking if me and my boyfriend Johnnie broke up, so today we are going to go ask him,” you said holding the phone up to your face as if introducing a vlog.

The next shot was of your feet walking up to Johnnie sitting on the couch. “Hey babe?” you asked, pointing the camera at him. “Yeah?” he answered back looking up at you. “Did we break up?” you ask as if it was a normal question.

“Umm last time I checked no,” he replied back trying to hold his smile back. “Oh ok, sweat just checking. Love you,” you said back moving the phone down as he broke his serious face and laughed with you.

You posted the tik tok captioned “addressing the rumors”

You cuddled up next to him and read the comments. Most of them were making fun of others for assuming things. The other half was just talking about how cute the two of you were together.

The following day the song and music video were posted and the feedback was worth it. You were so proud of Johnnie and all he had done but this song meant so much to both of you.

#jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #johnnie x you

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kedsandtubesocks · 2 months

Text

be your hallowed ground

Demon!Ezra x F!Reader

summary: 1700’s. the journey home before you is long, weary, and you are alone… but not for long

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. colonial era inspired AU, inexperienced!reader, religiously raised reader, historical/societal period negative views of women, major supernatural elements, religious discussions along with Christian imagery & mentions of scripture, Ezra’s use of petnames, heavy corruption kink, possessive!Ezra, finger sucking, wound kissing and one small moment of blood consumption, Ezra lifts reader with his demon strength (reader has no physical description), intense kissing & spicy moments, f!oral receiving, light overstimulation, briefest mention of Ezra watching/stalking, sacrilegious themes, dark & spooky vibes

word count: 7.9k

a/n: so this is my first Ezra fic & i blame this AU on my ex catholic school kid roots along with playing too much cult of the lamb bcs here we are lol I wouldn’t be here without the ones who paved the way/inspired me to take the jump to write Ezra so thank you @morallyinept @julesonrecord & @lowlights for being true lovely guides, also to @pastelle-rabbit @haylzcyon & @ahauntedcowboy for letting me scream/cry about this lol I love each & every one of y’all - and to you, if you decide to take a peek and read, thank you so much ♡

The forest stretches out far, daunting.

Twilight glimmers on the last of her heels and you hope to return home soon. You can almost hear your father’s anger at your stubbornness for not staying at the inn for another night and for simply being on this journey in the first place. You should’ve saved up for a carriage ride home.

Now, alone in the woods, you fear the tree branches will soon reach down to claw you into their canopy cluster above.

Deeper and further you walk through the forest path. You haven’t prayed much recently. But you faintly remember words urging you to not fear the terror of night, nor the danger that prowls in the darkness, and you’re gently eased. You also think of the early spring blooms scattered among the town waiting for you.

Then a branch cracks behind you, the sound of someone stepping on it, and you stop.

The trek has been silent, eerily so. Not even bird chirps or the wind’s breeze has filled your space. Yet it now sounds like something approaches.

You whip around.

No one stands behind you. Only the dirt and dust linger in the air.

The woods must be clouding you with unnecessary dread. You’ve walked these roads alone before and you will walk them again even though the forest seems darker now.

Determined, and slightly frightened, you spin on your heels to quickly return on your journey.

“There you are, turtle dove.”

The voice startles you so suddenly you almost collapse. Strangely accented, the thick drawl flows heavy with a twang of someone from the wild southern territories.

Your heart beats fast like a petrified rabbit and your eyes snap towards the source of the voice.

Leaning against a large tree is the most exquisite man you ever believe to be crafted.

Dressed in a striking coat, a beautifully sharp nose and dark facial hair, he’s ethereal. You also spot the most interesting tuff of white blonde hair against his dark chestnut locks. What’s startling are his magnetic inky eyes staring at you.

“I don’t know you, good sir.” You politely reply.

The man smiles like a fox creeping around a chicken coop.

“Ezra is my given name, turtle dove. Now we’re no longer strangers.”

His name - Ezra.

Like his name suggests you wonder if maybe he’s here to provide aid, your personal blessing.

Yet his words flutter out duplicitous and heavy like something dangerous chains around them down.

“Then good day to you, sir.” You nod, a polite reply, and decide to withhold your name.

“May I accompany you on your journey?” He suggests surprisingly gentle, his words olive branch-like offers.

You ask him where he is even headed, and for what brings a well speaking, slightly suspicious, man as himself into these woods.

“The same as you, sweet bird,” Ezra replies simply. “We all have our journeys to be upon. Mine just happens to coincide with yours. A rather fortuitous blessing if I do say so myself.”

Your eyes narrow. Something scratches at the back of your mind urging you to keep walking and pay no heed to this man.

But then the wind picks up.

From a soft breeze it quickly transforms into the strangest howl, like a warning of the dangers lurking all around. In a slight panic your eyes survey your surroundings. This man might be a stranger, but having company might not be such a bad choice.

“Come now.” Ezra comments reassuring and steady even among the howling winds. “These woods are wild and deep, ain’t no place for a treasure such as yourself.”

He is handsome, the most stunning man you may ever see. And the glimmer in his eyes seems to beckon you.

After you quietly nod, your journey expands by one.

With a gracious bow of his head, the man from the shadows falls into step beside you.

The wind suddenly, but thankfully, settles. However, tension prickles against your skin and a strange warmth blooms from the center of your chest.

“So, what’s a lovely angel like yourself doing here, a babe in the woods?” Ezra begins.

Your fingers tighten against your cloak while the truth stays sealed tight.

The man chuckles.

“Don’t go shy on me now, sweet dove,” he teases.

You huff annoyed. However, seeing as how you will be traveling with him until you return home, you decide to engage with him.

Your dearest friend moved to the next town when you both became fully grown. She fell in love with a married man in a loveless marriage to a cruel woman. Because of that your friend was condemned to banishment. Now, she’s with child. Some even whisper the child was maybe even convinced due to witchcraft.

However, with the recent passing of your town’s relentless head clergyman, you hope this will help improve the situation.

Ezra listens patiently, letting you quietly explain everything.

“And so you traveled to visit your dear friend like a kind emissary.” He notes. “Your town must be in an uproar over you visiting her.”

“They are.” You answer stiffly.

Your father absolutely detests it. Even the governor’s son, who has shown interest in courting you, has made it known that your lenient position doesn’t help towards a marriage possibility. But you won't falter in your loyalty. Especially after your faith has been so shaken from seeing the harsh treatment given to your friend.

“A fair decision.” Ezra agrees. “All those upset are fools anyway. Seems they forgot the good book even mentions how cherished a gift it is to forgive others just as the lord forgives us.”

He quotes scripture so passively it surprises you. He doesn’t seem like a spiritual type. If anything, Ezra seems like a man who slinks around the shadows late at night among the thieves and brothels hidden at the edge of town.

“You’re right,” you agree with him. “Who are we to judge others on simple matters of passion compared to our lord, especially to condemn it?”

“Lust is considered a grave sin though, dear birdie, so I understand why.” He quietly answers while his words scurry over your skin. “After all, look at the predicament it entangled your dear friend in.”

“And don’t passions of the flesh wage war against the solemnity of the soul?” Ezra politely answers lightly referring to scripture and you wonder if he is a man devoted to the good book.

So you reserve your words again.

“Please… do not silence your song, biride.” Ezra coos.

“Now, tell me your thoughts,” he whispers low.

As you swallow hard, your skin feels tight against your bones. But you decide to speak freely, as dangerous as it may be.

“It’s true that my friend committed a terrible sin.” You begin with a shaky sigh. “I understand her punishment. But for others to be so cruel when faith says to forgive and embrace salvation feels hypocritical.”

“True indeed. And as you said, all this for the sake of condemning passion? There are worse commandments to shatter under heaven’s watchful eye.” Ezra drawls out.

“Exactly.” You agree with a firm nod more at ease with your new companion.

“Besides… isn’t the act of creation an offspring of passion?” He challenges and the thought stuns you.

The stranger is correct and his perception moves you.

You’ve never engaged in such discussions like this with anyone before, especially not with a man. You noticed he speaks to you like an equal, never diminishing your ideals or fully trampling on your opinions.

Something greedy urges you to slow down your step and spend as much time with your new companion.

“So, is there a husband of yours waitin’ at home to meet you with passions, dear dove?” Ezra asks with the curl of intrigue in his voice and you almost choke on a gasp.

“A rather forward question to ask a stranger.” You snap back sharply and glare at him.

Ezra keeps his abyss eyes drawn forward and doesn't seem bothering at your reply or the discussion matter he brought up.

“Thought we established we’re no longer strangers?” Your stranger mutters back.

“We’ve discussed religion, the ways of the hearts and their passions. Only good friends touch on such topics, yes?”

He’s unbearably confident, and he knows it. You want to storm off, maybe even demand him to leave. But you can’t do it. You almost can’t endure the thought of him leaving now.

So you reply stiffly. “No. I have no husband at home.”

“Truly?” He now squawks confused.

“Ain’t that a damn shame.” He purrs. “A creature lovely as yourself deserves to be worshiped every minute you’re here among this green earth.”

Your heart thumps erratic against its cage.

“Are you mocking me, good man Ezra, for not being married?” You deflect with a shaky voice.

“Never, turtle dove.” He reassures. “I believe the ultimate sin is to be denied any shade of passion.”

“Especially for a beauty marvelous as yourself.” He exhales and his voice dances devilishly.

An uneasiness settles into your legs, like your body could give out at any moment.

“What you say is blasphemy,” you manage to reply, however your voice wavers. “A heathen's words.”

“I could’ve recounted the same about you moments ago when you spoke your thoughts.” He mutters back.

Your heart drops. He’s correct. This man has your thoughts tied up in so many knots and you cannot find a path within yourself.

“No need to worry.” Ezra says. “Treading into heathen’s territory is never frightful when you have a companion.”

You don’t know how you feel about this conversation or where it seems to be heading towards. Your gaze turns to Ezra. He continues staring ahead composed.

He’s a strange unorthodox man, an anomaly, someone you never believed existed.

“Now tell me… have you tasted desire, my sweet turtle dove?”

His eyes now move to you, catching you staring red handed. Like an exposed thief, your gaze flies away from him.

His question, as if composed of thorns, constricts around your throat refusing to let you answer.

You’ve tasted it on the tips of your tongue. One of your old childhood friends became a courtesan at a brothel. During her nights off, you’d sneak out to visit her. She recounted with giggles about the various sexual escapades she’s experienced. It made your mouth water wishing for the embrace of a lover, to understand what it meant to be truly desired.

You’ve been tempted to fall into bed with the blacksmith’s brother but once you discovered his cruel treatment of the women in town you were soured by the thought. So during the late nights alone your fingers slipped under the quilts and you would find a sticky taste of passion.

Getting caught up in your thoughts keeps you quiet.

“When I was a younger man and lived in France.” Ezra begins with a sudden gentle musing, the voice of a storyteller almost. “Even when I migrated here to the southern territories, I learned of an interesting turn of phrase.”

“La petite mort.” The words flow from him beautifully, rolled with such finessed precision. Hearing him speak sparks a jolt up your spine.

“I’m not quite sure you know of it, but do you know what it means?”

Your eyes that had glazed over are now back on Ezra. His devastatingly beautiful face remains serene.

“The literal translation is ‘a little death.’” Ezra continues. “But what it speaks of is the little moment of feeling as if you’re dying when experiencing true orgasmic release, something that makes us see god.”

His words, hanging with a thinly concealed desire, rip through you and a slickness slowly pools between your legs.

Now his eyes flicker to you.

“A pleasure so rapturous we taste a little death.” He mutters looking so intently at you that you want to scurry and hide away.

But you can’t. You’re drawn into his gaze, a poor moth entrapped by his erratic flame, and you’re not quite sure if this fire is hellfire.

Rationale within you screams this man could be a robber or could be leading you into his sticky web to simply harm you. Yet it seems like he could vanish into smoke.

You also notice you and Eza have both stopped walking. Now staring into his eyes, you discover storms in them.

Until an oncoming storm arrives all around. The wind erupts into howls. It whips around fast and you tug your cloak closer trying to stay warm against the gales.

Your face even scrunches up at the drastic change in the weather.

A firm hand moves to your back pulling you closer until you rest within the shade of a firm body. Ezra has drawn you into his side, lifting his cloak to cover you, and your eyes become full moons.

“To keep you sheltered from this weather. Though, we may need to hunt for some sanctuary soon.” He mutters.

He smells of pine, like the forest itself gave him to you. However you also catch the smallest hint of something smoky, like he slept too close to a campfire.

But, his words confuse you.

“Terrible weather? It’s simply just bad wind.” You yell against the wind and glance around the forest.

That’s when you notice how terrifyingly dark it’s gotten. The tree branches now stretch above like monstrous limbs crawling along the darkness.

How long have you been out along the trail? You haven’t even reached the halfway point to town. The woods now loom incredibly dark like a chasm ready to swallow you whole.

Then the drum of thunder comes, and the skies open up, as if on command by Ezra’s prophetic words. The rain unleashes a downpour. You squawk like a petrified bird at how soaked you’re getting even being covered by his coat.

“Come!” He cries over the storm keeping you close. “I believe there is shelter close by.”

So through the darkness you go, led by him off the path and deeper into the thicket.

How did he know a shelter was nearby? Shouldn’t he have come here earlier and left you on your journey? Or did he maybe sense the storm was coming and wanted to keep accompanying you.

The rush of the rain along with how quickly Ezra moves you and him feels as if you’re flying through the forest like your feet never once touch the ground.

Your body stops and out from the darkness, among the rain, stands the faint shape of a building.

Ezra guides you inside and you exhale relieved you’re out of the storm.

The stale smell of dust greets you first and makes your nose crinkle.

Looking out to your new makeshift shelter, you find yourself standing in a very abandoned church. Dried dead leaves scatter the floor. Vacant pews hold a hollow ghostly emptiness. You didn’t even know this chapel was here.

“How did you know of this place-” you turn to ask Ezra but discover you’re alone.

So focused on soaking in the church you didn’t even notice his departure.

“Ezra?” You call for him and silence replies.

Where could he have gone?

“Worry not.” Ezra’s voice floats out an echo. From the side of the sacristy, beside the main congregation hall, he emerges.

How did he get there without you noticing?

In his grasp is a lit candle. The flames create interesting shadows upon his handsome face as his molten eyes stare at you.

“Apologizes,” he reassured you with the ease of a saint. “Went to scavenge for some light.”

“Seems you were unsuccessful.” You dryly tease, walking towards where Ezra stands at the front of the congregation.

A slight tug of amusement comes over his heavenly face.

“We shall make camp here until the storm quells.”

No better place to find sanctuary than in a chapel, even though this one has seen better days.

Outside the wind continues rattling the windows while the rain creates a soothing melody. Yet, there is an emptiness here, like you can’t sense any sacred spirit within these walls. You wonder if the Lord maybe has even abandoned this space.

“Come rest with me, turtle dove.” Ezra beckons to you as he sits casually on the floor up besides the altar.

“You can’t sit there!” You whisper urgent.

“Why? Who is here to stop me?” Ezra counters with raised eyebrows and amused crinkled eyes.

“This is sacred ground! You can’t simply sit in the sanctuary like it’s some sort of encampment!” You argue.

“Biride,” Ezra begins. “This momentary shelter is merely a building. The same way all buildings are just simple creations of stone and labor.”

“Not buildings like this, especially when our lord resides here.” You reply like a dutifully faithful follower.

Ezra now sits up from his lax position to glance around. His eyes survey every inch of the space.

“You say our Heavenly Father is here. But tell me, turtle dove, do you sense his presence here?”

He noticed it too.

Your tongue becomes metal, heavy and bitter.

“Come,” he urges again, kinder now. “Rest. Your legs need their strength for the rest of your journey. It will be much more comfortable than those stuffy pews.”

You narrow your eyes at him, still hesitant. Defiant, you try sitting in one of the vacant pews only to find clusters of spider webs creating a slightly unnerving barrier. And you didn’t want to check every pew for availability. You were too tired.

Refusing to meet Ezra’s eyes you step past the pews, into the sanctuary, and delicately sit a small space away from your companion.

“See? Not so hard, and you didn’t even combust into flames sitting here.”

You glare at him while Ezra grins triumphant. Silence settles. But with a man who readily embraces the gift and curse of gab, it feels dangerous.

A small gurgle of a noise rumbles out and your face heats up horrified. You didn’t realize you hadn’t eaten this entire journey.

“A bit peckish, dear dove?” Ezra chuckles a smokey thing.

You’re about to grumble under your breath annoyed until he again peers around the abandoned church.

“Rather unfortunate there doesn’t seem to be any source of subsidence here.”

You quietly reassure him as you shift your cloak to reach for your covered satchel. Thankfully, your morsel of a wrapped loaf was spared from the rain.

“I have this for us to share.” You quietly announce.

Ezra gasps small but surprised.

“Divine goddess, you are salvation.” He breathes out.

“I am no goddess. No one person is divine in such a way.” You correct him.

The man hums. “If the maker created man in his image does that not mean we are shades of god in our own ways?”

Midway unfolding the bread out of the paper, you halt.

You never thought of it that way. It made sense. Slowly, it feels as if a wagon wheel is turning in your head leading you towards something you cannot reach.

“Sweet turtle dove,” Ezra calls to you. “Would you be so gracious and let me consecrate our feast?”

You’re stunned by the heartfelt request. This man seems to be a never ending labyrinth confusing you with no end in sight.

You slide closer to sit fully beside him. Readily you hand him the wrapped bread and try not to jump at his hand brushing yours. His skin is soft, warmed, and your knuckles tingle from the simple exchange.

“Thank you kindly.”

Now holding the bread in one hand, Ezra moves the other to lightly hover above the morsel. Closing his eyes in prayer, Ezra begins.

However, he mutters low and so fast that you can’t even catch a word of his prayer. You wonder if he even is saying anything or is simply mocking the form of prayer.

You’re about to chide him until he quickly finishes. Dreamily opening his eyes Ezra then simply breaks the bread into two.

“To break communion with someone lovely as you is an honor.” With a gracious grin, your stranger hands you a piece. You thank him with a soft mutter.

The storm continues its wrath and you arrive at a bleak conclusion. Your night will be spent here in this eerie abandoned church with this strange mysterious handsome man.

Resigning yourself to that, you sigh and take a bite out of the bread.

The bread was a simple one you got from the neighboring town’s bakery. It’s nothing special. You’ve even thought it rather stale at times.

However, the bread you taste now is indescribable.

It melts in your mouth, wonderfully soft and warm. There’s even the sweetest taste like a whisper of a fruit that reminds you of apples. An uncontrollable moan of satisfaction escapes you.

But your eyes widen realizing how you just acted.

Embarrassment floods you fast and you anxiously gaze at Ezra who smirks at you.

Unable to stare at him long, you turn back down to your lap. The bread looks exactly the same as it always does.

Is your mind so exhausted it believes this stale morsel now tastes this heavenly?

You must be imagining things.

Besides you, Ezra shuffles. Out of curiosity your eyes lift towards him and find the man shrugging off his coat.

He even removes his waistcoat to reveal his simple white slipover. Rain still lingers on his skin allowing the pristine white cloth to stick to him. Without the coat you’re given clear sight of his glorious neck.

A thought flutters into your mind.

You imagine sinking your teeth into his beautiful flesh and lapping up all the rain droplets.

Dread fills you.

How could you think such thoughts?

“Turtle dove,” Ezra’s voice shatters the silence almost making you jump.

“If you could create a world of your own, what would it look like?”

The question stumps you, even brings in a twinkle of curiosity. What would bring on such a question? You suppose it must be a way to break the silence and pass the time.

In thought, you hum a small noise.

“I think…” you quietly utter and let your thoughts flow.

You think of a world built on compassion, one without hunger or war, of one filled with peace and justice.

“And without sin, I suppose.” Ezra gently comments and your eyes turn to him.

He stares towards the ground with a peculiar look shadowed over his handsome face.

“Yes of course.” You answer. Sin is the root of all evil and corrupted humanity’s souls.

“What if I told you some sins are not all evil? And that what you long for, dear turtle dove, is not a world void is sin, but one free of guilt from it.”

Your face scrunches up a bit confused over his nebulous words.

“Should we not all live in indulgence?” Ezra adds, clarified in his words.

“Indulgence leads to corruption.” You reply parroting all the countless sermons that discussed this.

“If our creator didn’t want us to indulge, then why did he indulge in creating such a world so lush as this one?” Your stranger offers.

You try gathering a reply, thinking of all the lessons about how this world is meant to be seen in awe and appreciated. Not to indulge in. But now all your arguments seem to fall short, not even sound correct in your head.

Before you can press the discussion further Ezra leans closer towards you. Your thoughts and body become completely petrified.

You should lean away, lean back from his casual intimate movements.

But you can’t. Or, within the deep terror of your heart you know the truth. You don’t want to.

His thumb moves towards the corner of your mouth and you transform completely into stone.

Ezra’s ink eyes haze over while his thumb gently swipes against your skin.

“Crumbs.” He mutters, answering for his actions. Yet, his hand doesn’t leave.

You don’t shove him away or demand him to go. The downpour rattling the windows becomes the church’s only noise while you and this man sit in the stillness.

Ezra’s attention falls to your mouth.

His thumb now strokes the corner of your lips. You believe it’s to wipe more bread crumbs away. Then his thumb swipes across your bottom lip and a sharp inhale escapes you.

His eyes and yours find each other.

“You deserve to live in indulgence,” Ezra whispers deviously rich.

Your skin feels ablazed and your throat dries. Out of instinct or perhaps something darker you wet your lips. In that movement your lips press against his thumb and your tongue manages to swipe at his skin.

You’re rewarded the faintest taste of him, a crumb of his salty golden skin, and it’s like a thread slowly catches fire.

You want more, need it.

Possibly possessed now, your mouth opens up and simply slips more of his thumb into your mouth.

The moment the salty taste of him hits your tongue your eyes close.

Feeling his finger in your mouth against your tongue, against your teeth, is divine. His flesh must be coated with ambrosia because your mouth waters aching for more.

Heaven, or this must be a slice of it.

Until horror strikes you and you realize what you’re doing. Terrified eyes now open, you’re about to pull away and yelp horrified.

Ezra’s hand rapidly moves to cradle your face firm and slide his thumb deeper into your mouth.

“Oh my sweet bird,” he coos now closer to you. “You’ve tasted the pleasure I can give, the magic I can conjure. Don’t deny yourself this.”

His beautiful nose presses into the side of your face nuzzling against your skin and your eyes close. Bliss overtakes you.

“Now” his voice drops a dangerous lulling whisper. “Hollow your cheeks for me, and suck in.”

You do as told and the groan Ezra lets out vibrates deep past your skin. You even let out a whine.

You’ve heard the noises men make in the waves of passion, but this was decadent. You never knew a man could sound this beautiful.

You wanted to hear him even more. And knowing you did this to him? A syrupy drunken pride courses through you intoxicating.

You suck harder, allowing your tongue to caress his skin and Ezra exhales heavenly.

Before you can indulge any further, a creature screeches into the church and shatters the sensual spell. You shriek in terror and scramble. Wings furiously flapping come and out of reflex you cover your head.

Then a solid body collides into you and your world falls over.

You hit the floor of the sanctuary with a soft thud. It would’ve been a harder fall if not for Ezra’s hand cradling your head to soften the impact. Your eyes look up to find Ezra covering you, protecting you from whatever flew in.

Your heart thumps loud in your ears, a horrible drum drowning out your thoughts. His broad shoulders, firm frame, he really is a man crafted out of pure beauty and desire now that you’ve tasted his skin.

“Blasted bats… must’ve been nesting in here.” Ezra comments with a mutter while his eyes stay watching out.

Now you faintly hear the familiar chirps of the creatures. You hope they all leave soon or move to another area within the church.

Slowly the rustling settles. Ezra does not move from his post above you, a shield keeping you safe from the interrupting creatures.

His large hand cradling your head holds you gently but with a firmness that speaks of his control.

The strangest clash of sensations arrives. Like Eve awoken out of her blissful sin, you’re keenly aware of the cold clothes sticking to you. Particularly your wet cloak weighing on you sends a chill crawling up your skin making you squirm.

Ezra’s eyes slip back to you. The candlelight highlights the shadows of his face and his eyes seem deeper than before. Candlelight doesn’t even reflect in their abyss.

Until his obsidian eyes go wide in a slight panic.

“Your wing, turtle dove.”

Now confused you shift to lift your arm up. A small cut has ripped through your cloak and blouse sleeve. You didn’t even notice or feel it. Must have cut yourself on the old wooden floor below.

The church didn’t seem this dilapidated to have rotten wood floors. However, without upkeep, it only makes sense everything begins to splinter and decay. Thankfully the cut isn’t deep but dark crimson does stain the cloth.

“Oh,” you even mutter a bit stunned.

Gently Ezra shifts to help you up while being cautious of your wound.

“Are you in pain?” He asks, concerned.

“No.” You shake your head, truthfully telling him you didn’t even notice the cut.

Ezra delicately moves towards your arm. “May I?”

You nod quietly.

Gingerly, your mysterious stranger places his hands on you to further inspect your wound.

“It doesn’t hurt.” You reassure him.

Surprisingly, Ezra stays silent. His eyes remain on your arm. As if you’re an injured sparrow, he folds up your blouse sleeve delicately.

The faintest touch of his thumb strokes your bare skin and your throat constricts tight. This unknown mystery of a man tenderly touching you clutches at your soul.

“My creator, so heavenly in his wisdom,” he suddenly speaks low, like his voice is dipped in sticky honey. “Taught me this is how we heal wounds.”

Then Ezra draws your arm up and he leans down. And in that swift moment, he presses his lips to your wound.

A tender kiss.

Your breath hitches, tripping over itself. You indeed had his finger in your mouth moments ago. But this opens a chasm in you. Especially as you watch him lick away your blood at his lips

Then his lips return to your skin, on your wound, and it feels like devotion.

There were saints that kissed the wounds of your lord and now how angelic, reverent, Ezra’s face looks, you imagine him as one.

However, his lips start kissing all across your arm, quickly becoming greedy. Like a silent thief, he continues kissing up your arm with deliberate nips.

If he is a robber, this thievery is divine. You even squirm, squeezing your legs together because a slick wetness leaks between them. You wish to quell this burning urge to be touched.

Your mind only focuses on Ezra’s lips that you don’t even notice he unclasped your cloak until the heavy cold weight drops off you like shackles unchained.

However, an awful breeze across your skin makes you shrink back from the cold and snaps you into awareness.

You can’t do this with a man like this, a stranger.

A fanged piece of yourself urges you to simply give in, especially with a man not known in town. The internal struggle vanishes when Ezra’s breath tickles against your exposed neck.

“Do you wish me to stop, my turtle dove?” He coo’s. “I believe you deserve to taste this indulgence.”

“I don’t know you.” You croak out. Yet your voice doesn’t even sound convinced of your own resolve.

“Oh but you do.” Ezra pleads, his voice drenched in gilded desire.

“You know me.” He urges. “This is what you wanted. Your heart summoned me. I heard your call and here I am.”

“What do you mean?” Your voice cracks, an unsteady foundation.

“The hidden truths in your heart,” Ezra whispers and his breath dances upon your skin a ghost’s hymnal.

“The festering jealousy of knowing your dear friend found adoration, even out of sin…you wished to know of such delights. And your anger of this world for damning you to such solitudes, of being so constricting - it all called to me.”

Fear captures your heart. This couldn’t be true.

“Oh but it is,” Ezra answers you.

You don’t even know if you spoke those words aloud or if this man has now slithered into your thoughts.

“All those nights you longed for a lover,” he mourns sympathetically. “All alone with just your fingers in your sweet sex.”

You choke on air, gasping for some sort of relief from this terror drowning you.

“Oh and I’ve watched you for so long, my bird.” He bemoans. “Ached for so long to claim you mine.”

“You…you’ve seen me before?” You stammer.

“Indeed I have. I know you’ve partaken in sin. And the guilt you hold consumes you. Let me be your redemption,” Ezra continues with a pure temptation crawling from his voice.

You should be concerned at how this man has seen you before. Yet…With his mouth simply a breath’s pace away from you nothing seems to matter. Because your mind only wants him to kiss you, ravish you.

“You must say it, my angel.” He mutters.

Do you dare jump off the ledge and plunge into this molten fire?

A light terror runs across your skin, like hearing the hiss of a snake yet not seeing it. Something is afoot with Ezra. You can’t pinpoint it…

But you also wonder if this doubt is born from the chains of your faith holding you back?

“Ezra.” You mumble his name, a choked noise.

“I await your command.” The man reverently responds as if in a mass himself.

“Please….” You whimper out.

“Please what?” He murmurs and his twang clouds his voice even more.

“Please….touch me.” You croak while your voice trails.

It unleashes a monster.

Ezra’s lips dive onto your neck, kissing upon your skin with a possessed fervor. Even while sitting, the sudden rush of his lips, the scrape of his facial hair against you makes your body collapse.

It only allows for Ezra to sweep you into his arms.

Yanking his face away from your neck, you’re about to mourn the loss of him against your skin until his lips swoop in to consume yours.

You’ve kissed others before. In the hidden shadow of buildings after dark, you’ve even recently shared a kiss or two with the blacksmith’s brother a handful of times. They’ve been wonderful but secret encounters.

This however sets your soul on fire.

His tongue swiftly maneuvers into your mouth and now tasting him from the source, you never want to know a day without this, without him.

You moan, yanking at him closer, and try to slide your own tongue against his now. It’s messy, wet, a clash of bone and spirit but it’s delicious.

Sliding his arms under your legs, Ezra lifts you up with ease as he stands. You squeak against his lips, but then your eyes roll back when the man suddenly begins sucking on your tongue.

Your body feels like it will crumble at any moment.

That’s when you notice you’re being laid upon something cold and flat.

Wearily you find you do rest high upon something.

And now, the church is lit.

You panic looking around. The torches lining the walls burn with warm flames and illuminate the space in amber light.

How? Ezra did not leave you for one moment. Was there another here? And if so, how did you not hear them?

A warm calloused hand moves to cradle your face and your eyes snap to Ezra who peers down at you with smoke filled eyes.

“Don’t fret, my dove. We are only here.” He reassures, leaning down to kiss you again and your eyes shut once more.

“And if you’re not simply focused on me, then I’m not doing this correctly.” He mutters against your lips.

A wanton drunkenness comes with how consuming he kisses, especially as his mouth pulls from your lips to lick against your jaw.

He hums a satisfied groan.

“Oh my darling turtle dove, you were born to be worshiped by me weren’t you? And I blessed to simply be your devout disciple.” A revered holiness oozes thick from his voice.

“Let me venerate at your holy temple.” Ezra exhales against your throat kissing your feverish skin.

This is more than you can handle. It’s tremendous. It’s too much, yet not enough. It’s building something just out of your grasp, a flame that can’t be extinguished and scorches so fierce.

Blinking out of the haze, you find instead of being beside you, Ezra, like magic, now stands by your feet.

His hands slide up your legs and yank you closer towards him.

A yelp of surprise squeaks out from you. Any other noise or thoughts get swallowed up when Ezra’s hands snake under your skirt and up your legs.

Your eyes close under the sensation of his calloused warm hands.

“Do you know what true sacrifice cleanses sins?” Ezra asks with gravel in his voice.

“Hm?” You mumble, unable to create a response with how wonderful his fingers feel caressing your thighs.

“It’s to offer up one’s life. That’s the ultimate form of sacrifice.”

His words terrify you. Is he insinuating what you think he is? Are you to be made a lamb to slaughter because of the desire consuming you?

“Shh…” Ezra notices your worry and soothes you, rubbing gentle circles on your skin.

“Fear not, my dove. For I shall bring you redemption just as you’ve brought me mine.”

Slowly, he hoists your leg up and your eyes widen. He shifts to stand between your legs. Keeping his gaze on you, the mysterious man kisses your calf, a calming balm that also ignites a heat brewing in you again.

“Tell me,” Ezra asks, speaking into your skin. “Has anyone tasted you…here?”

Suddenly his fingers graze against your sex and warmth floods your face at just the thought.

You heard of such a thing from your friend at the brothels. However it was a rare occurrence, almost seemed mythical.

“No.” You breathe out.

“Shame.” Ezra mumbles. “All for me I suppose. A wonderfully ripe peach, all mine to consume.”

His inky dazed eyes flicker to yours.

“Will you let me take you to heaven, my lovely? May I swim in your ocean and taste your pearl?” Ezra offers like a man asking for your atonement.

The terminology is not missed on you and lust crashes in a dizzying tidal wave.

Quietly, swallowing thick, you nod yes.

Pride grin tugs at Ezra’s lips and his eyes twinkle like a creature lurking out from the woods.

Softly closing his eyes, he returns to kissing your skin. Except this time he moves up your leg with a purpose -

Like he’s on a holy pilgrimage.

Almost bewitched you watch him kneel down and push up your skirt to reveal your under garment. It’s a sight you want seared into your memory.

Then Ezra presses forward and kisses your covered sex. A gasp rips wild from you and your eyes roll back.

With a fast rip, Ezra takes apart your undergarments. Bare to him, his tongue then licks against your cunt and the most debauched sound you never knew you could even make escapes you.

“Do you enjoy? Wish me to continue?” You don’t know how Ezra’s voice swirls around you, a caress in the whispering wind, but you nod frantically.

“Ezra please… more.” You whimper.

And he does as you command.

Ezra pulls you apart with a wet devotion and frenzy that feels like you’re being devoured. He’s feasting on you.

You whine, even slap a hand over your mouth to silence how loud you’ve become when he sucks hard on the pearl of your sex.

“No.” He mumbles wet within your molten heat. “Let me hear you, my lovely.”

You don’t deny him after that.

The storm now rages outside, violently ramming into the windows. It mixes with the cries of your pleasure ripping through you.

When your climax arrives and knocks you out of this realm, you scream Ezra’s name while your legs shake.

“Beauty divine,” Ezra sighs, devout and borderline drunk.

Breathing down from your high with your back fully now flat against the floor surface, it hits you.

You’ve been lying on the chapel’s altar this entire time.

The offering is you. You indeed are the sacrifice, one of vitality. The throne of ecstasy is a form of life…

And did Ezra not tell you passion is also a tiny death itself as well?

Before you can gather this, Ezra dives back into you again and you squirm unbelieving this man can want more. He’s a man possessed like he’s trying to consume you from the inside out, devouring you until he reaches your marrow.

“Ezra.” You whimper. It borders too much, but you also don’t want this to stop.

“Let me feast, my dove.” He growls back and you catch it.

Ezra’s voice sounds distorted, fluttering between his twang and now a jagged danger sounding monstrous.

Wearily, trying to stay aware among the heat of building rapture, you exhaustedly lean up.

Between your legs Ezra is a sinful sight. His broad shoulders keep your thighs open as his tongue dips into the caverns of your cunt. You melt, unable to keep your eyes open.

But you want to watch him, want to remember this for as long as you can.

Especially now that the storm rages all around. You even wonder if the decaying church’s roof might be ripped off.

So your eyes open.

From between your legs, Ezra glances up.

His mouth stays stuck to your sex, except his eyes are completely hollowed out.

Drenched in darkness, like ink spilled entirely into them, they’re unholy and inhuman.

A scream rips from you but you can’t tell if it’s born of fear or pleasure. Or maybe both have blended together.

Your hips rise galvanized more and more, unable to stop their grind into his lips. Ezra’s grip keeps you secured and grounded.

Yet the sensation of sharpened nails now scrape against your skin.

You discover there are indeed claws, gruesome and monstrous claws, that form Ezra’s hands and arms.

“What- what are you?!” You sob.

Ezra hums and peers up at you.

“Salvation, my lovely. Yours and mine.”

A second orgasmic high hits and from the overwhelming pleasure your vision goes white. You wonder if this is heaven.

Or perhaps it’s hell.

Maybe you have died.

You should scream in terror or pray for absolution. But it’s so hard when this tastes so incredibly intoxicating, a most potent elixir.

As your body crumbles back against the altar, the overstimulated sensations become numbing, fogging your mind. Your eyes flicker up to the ceiling of the chapel.

You cannot find your god anywhere in the shadows.

The back of Ezra’s clawed hand gently strokes your cheek.

So tired, barely able to stay awake, your exhausted gaze flickers to him.

Those eyes of his, dark chasms of hell, should be soulless. But instead he looks at you with utmost tenderness.

The blazing lights of the church cast a warm glow outlined around Ezra, almost like a halo.

It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful in the terrifying way a fire is.

The mystery known as Ezra suddenly whispers out your name and you realize…

You never once gave it to him this entire time.

He is the last sight you see before your vision finally falls into the darkness.

When you awake, you’re among your quilts and bed.

You’re home.

Rapidly you look around so confused. How did you end up here? Was it all a dream?

“You’re awake!” Your father cries relieved and rushes to your side.

He thankfully answers all your questions.

You had arrived the morning after the storm. However, you hadn’t been alone.

“You had fallen ill on the road.” Your father explains. “But, thanks be to God, the new pastor sent to our town discovered you and carried you home.”

Now you’ve been resting ever since.

Had that experience been a fever dream, a temporary temptation conjured from your heart’s dark desires?

That had to be a dream, one brought on by your sudden sickness. So you rest and stay in bed for most of the day. From your window you admire the beautiful clear skies, the wonderful weather, and wildflowers growing so lovely.

You also notice your arm is completely healed, like you were never cut to begin with.

Midafternoon, a knock arrives at the door.

Your father calls your name. “Someone here to visit!”

Your mind sorts through all the possibilities of who is here to see you. You never expected your dearest friend to enter in with tears in her eyes. Overjoyed emotion washes over you as she rushes to embrace you.

“How can this be?” You hiccup, wiping away the tears. She was rarely allowed back home, especially now with her early pregnancy.

“The new pastor,” she smiles wide. “So holy and forgiving, he spoke to the judges and they are all redetermining a new sentence for me.”

You almost whisper out a prayer of thanksgiving. You hoped in your heart this would happen. She doesn’t stay long, wanting you to rest and you urge her to do the same.

By twilight another knock at the door arrives.

“Seems we are quite popular today.” Your father teases out from the main quarters.

Then he exclaims in excitement at seeing who’s arrived.

“Oh we are so blessed to have such a considerate clergyman coming by to visit!”

The new pastor. You’re beyond interested to meet this man and now you will.

When your father enters your room, Ezra waltzes in behind him.

Fear seizes your soul.

No. It couldn’t be.

This must be a man that looks like him down to his beautiful sharp nose and white patch of hair.

“Pleasure to see you again and under better circumstances.” Ezra’s clear twang rings out low and twinkling within your room.

Your heart rages rapidly and wild.

“Don’t look so terrified.” Your father chides soft but you still can’t believe this sight before you.

“Might I have a moment of solitude with your dear offspring?” Ezra asks with all the humility of an apostle.

Your father readily agrees, shutting the door behind him.

Now in the confines of your room Ezra slowly saunters towards your bed, a creature approaching its prey.

He exalts your name on an exhale.

You try to speak, but nothing comes out and Ezra moves to kneel beside your bed. His eyes twinkle with patient and pious understanding.

“Shh…no need for words, my dear turtle dove.” He quietly soothes you.

So many emotions clash in you, a tremulous onslaught you can’t handle.

“Have you come to kill me?” Fear manages to escape your lips and Ezra’s glorious face drops.

“Oh no, my beloved birdie. I’d never lay a hand on you with any violence or killing intent.” He reassures, a tender caress. “I’m here to free you. For us to set everyone free…did you not hear of what I did for your dear friend?”

His hand graciously cradles your cheek.

You should be terrified this man, this creature, is here. But you’re not.

Instead consuming relief and dangerous glee fills you. He is real. It was real.

Your hands clasp onto his and you hate how much you lean into his touch

Ezra leans forward and places a kiss against your forehead.

“What are you?” You ask barely above a whisper.

“The shadow of an angel, perhaps a monster to some.” He replies back. “But yours, nonetheless”

And you want him to be yours.

This is wrong to feel so greedy, to want a creature this dangerous. But were demons not once angels who deserved forgiveness and love?

So shifting your face you turn and place a kiss against Ezra’s palm.

Now when you hear the sermons, when you hear Ezra preach, you will think of Eve with sympathy because you understand.

You too fell for the serpent.

After all, evil never looks so beautiful as it does holding you. And desire never tasted so divine, never felt so holy.

Outside your window, the wildflowers begin to rot and the sudden rumble of a thunderstorm rolls in.

#sorry my ex Catholic school ass jumped out in this one & I need to go bathe in holy water now holy shit #anyway me and demon Ezra love you very much #ezra x reader #demon!ezra #ezra x f!reader #ezra (prospect) fic #ezra (prospect) x reader #ezra 🤎#pedrostories

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readychilledwine · 7 months

Note

what do you think about azriel x autumn court reader , she is also eris’s cousin, where she is utterly obsessed with halloween/ fall and she decorates the whole house of wind with spooky decor and little pumpkins everywhere. She hides little jumpscares, yk the ones that are in grocery stores, she hides them behind closet doors so whoever opens them gets a nasty creature in their face. Like I can imagine rhysand screaming and cursing her for the jumpscare and feyre just giggles w reader

And she make everyone drink pumpkin spice stuff and claims it is a must. Reader is also in her baking era and bakes so much everyday, the second someone comes in the house, they smell delicious treats. She really channels her inner autum court girl. And during fall she really only wears her clothes from the autumn court. She gets az to visit the autumn court now that eris is high lord, and she takes him to town to drink spiced cider and caramel apples and they have the best time.😭❤️

The Last Cabin on the Left

Summary - after moving to the Night Court to be with Azriel, y/n Vanserra has strived to bring an Autumn Court Tradition to your new home, and this year you've pulled out all the stops

Warnings - spooky themes, pranks, Nyx and cousins being adorable, matching couples costumes, general fluff, Azriel dressed like a pirate

A/n - I tweaked this request a little bit, and I hope that's okay 💜

Azriel smiled as the scent of candies, pumpkin, and apple cider hit his nose.

You had done it again, and it never ceased to amaze him. The cabin you two shared on the edge of the woods was decorated to celebrate an Autumn Court Tradition you, Eris, and Lucien called Hallows Eve.

He remembered you explaining it to him passionately as you two moved pumpkins and haybales around the yard 5 years ago.

In Autumn, it was a night where children were allowed to dress up in little costumes and go door to door in search of candies and treats. It was also a night where teens and adults tended to try to scare each other through stories, pranks, and sometimes decor.

Eris flat out told them when he confirmed the tradition that you were the best conjurer on cheap scares and tricks. He had told Azriel, Rhys, and Cassian of his aunt and Uncle's party and fair they threw for the territory they looked over. It was one night where your Father, the true opposite of Beron, was able to argue that with costumes and masks, you truly could not tell who was rich, who was poor, who was greater, and who was lesser.

He couldn't help but to smile as he heard you humming softly. You were sat at the table, decorating dipped apples for the party you two were hosting tomorrow. "How's my pumpkin today?" He to moved to you, kissing the top of your head before stealing one of little hard coated chocolates you were using. "House looks fantastic."

"Thank you," You were beaming with excitement and joy, flooding it down the bond. "I wanted to make the first Hallows Eve party with Eris and Mara amazing."

Azriel flooded you back with his love, admiration, and adoration. "Did you hear who Nyx is dressing up as?"

"No baby," you added a touch of white edible sparkles to the apple you were making look like a spiderweb, "what's he coming as?"

Azriel sat down, watching with loving eyes as you hand crafted each and every element of this party to perfection. "He's coming as Cassian." You paused. "And Cassian and Lucien's boys?"

"No," you started laughing. "They're not doing this."

"Oh they are," Azriel confirmed. "Sat there while the three of them showed me and everything."

You paused slightly. "Are you going to have to loan out the shadow babies? I need them."

Azriel shook his head, smiling hard enough his dimples showed. "No, the shadow babies are all yours, pumpkin." Azriel stood, walking over to the closet to put his jacket away and you smirked, watching and waiting.

You had conjured a mirror in that closet that created the creature the person who was looking into it was most afraid behind them before it would disappear quickly.

Azriel jumped, "Mother above," and quickly slammed the door shut after throwing his jacket in. He took a few deep breaths, hands placed firmly on his knees before staring at you. "Really?"

You picked up the spider you had crafted from dark chocolate and placed it off center on its web, finishing the caramel and dark chocolate dipped apple. "There's more. My goal is to finally get Cassian this year. Hence why I need the shadow babies."

Azriel scoffed lightly. "He's used to my shadows, dove. He's not going to-" Azriel paused as you looked at him, a small devious smirk on your perfect face. "You found him."

You nodded. "I did."

Lucien and Elain were the first to arrive to you home. They were dressed like an old Autumn's tale of a phantom who haunted one of the many Opera Houses and one of his legendary victims.

Lucien looked dangerous in his black suit and cape. Half of his face was covered in the famed white mask the Phantom wore to the performances.

Elain was in the last dress the famed female performer was ever seen in, a white corset gown with a white lace robe. Her hair was curled into spirals and adorned with jewels.

Their son was tucked behind them, waiting so politely for his cousins that you could not help but melt at the sight. Or maybe it was the sight of him dressed up as a little version of Rhysand that had your handing him his first sweet for the night in a hushed tone and a wink.

Feyre, Rhys, and Nyx arrived next. The High Lord and Lady had also dressed in a matching couples costume. Rhys was in brown pants and a green tunic. He had a hat with a feather tucked into it and brown belt hanging loosely on his hips. He smiled at you as he walked in a tiny illyrian leather wearing Nyx. 7 red stones were glued in place. "He was hoping you could glamor him to have Cassian's face scars?" Rhys rolled his eyes. "I offered to do it, but you know how he loves when you do the final touches on their little outfits."

You brought Nyx close to you, and wiggled your nose, making the heir giggle. A scar appeared through his brow and lower lip, "You're still too handsome to look like Uncle Cass, baby."

Nyx got really close to you, pulling down on your dress gently, "Did you make the peanut butter chocolate covered cereal with the white fluffy sugar?"

You just nodded, handing him the same treat you had given his cousin who was squirming on Rhysand's lap, as the High Lord adjusted his jacket lapels. "Once we're in full swing, everything is free game for all of you, okay?" Nyx nodded, running eagerly to his cousin and looking over all the games and snacks you had.

Feyre appeared next to you, iridescent see through wings conjured on her back and a short green dress that looked as if it was made of layered leaves. "I heard you acquired the thing."

"I cannot confirm nor deny that there is an ancient God of fear in my home." You handed her a lemon drop secretly. "I really like the lost boy and pixie idea."

She shrugged. "Rhys just wanted me to wear this dress."

Eris and his mate entered your home next, Azriel immediately standing to hug your cousin and take their baby from them. They were also dressed as legends. The God of Death and Goddess of Spring. Eris wore a black tunic with gold jewelry wrapping his bicep as he held his mate close to him. Mara had her long blonde hair pinned up, a crown of bones and roses resting on her head. Her pink dress was adorned with flowers and pearls. She waved to you with a bring smile on her face. "How many doors should we be afraid to open?" Her bell-like voice rang. You only smiled in response. "All of them."

They had dressed their daughter in a little blue shimmering gown. Azriel walked her to you, tears lining his eyes. "Look at our good daughter," he stroked her soft cheek with one of his fingers. "Eris said they'll probably change her so we have to enjoy this while we can."

"Did you let them know we have a little room ready for her whenever?" Azriel nodded, his soft eyes never leaving her face. "We should go change, my love. Let Lucien have his niece."

Azriel handed her off before you two went up the stairs. "You are sure Nyx is okay with the shadows standing ominously behind him?" Azriel nodded, pulling out his costume and quickly changing. You could feel through the bond he desperately wanted to get back to the little Autumn Heiress.

You saw him in leather everyday, but something about him quickly changing into those loose leather pants and that open white tunic with jewelry had your heart pounding. He strapped the leather belt and weapons to his waist while staring at you. "Later, my lady. Little princess cuddles first."

He helped you get into your own costume, similar to his, being careful not to over tighten the corset you had on. You stared at the two of you in the mirror as he kissed your temple. "We should become pirates."

Azriel shook his head, smacking you playfully on the butt. "I have all the booty I need right here."

The two of you made your way back downstairs. You run up behind your nephew, grabbing Nyx and pulling him into the kitchen. "Are you ready for shadows to loom over you oh so ominously?" You tickled him gently as you asked, and he nodded eagerly.

"You promise Uncle Cass will scream?" You and Azriel nodded. "Revenge." Nyx said with a serious look. "Also. When are we doing the candy?"

Azriel ran a hand through Nyx's hair. "Soon, little bat." A sudden feminine scream had Azriel and you looking up.

Rhys had opened the door where you had created an illusion. Opening the door would cause a mist and dust like figure to appear before it began rushing towards the person standing there, deathly thin hands and fingers reached out to rip them into what appeared to be a void.

Rhys stood with his hand on his chest, eyes wide in fright. "Mother above, y/n! Why?!"

Feyre began to giggle, hiding her head in Lucien's shoulder. "You should have seen your face."

Rhys glared at his mate. "I will never understand your amusement in these things, Feyre Darling."

Eris muttered softly from next to you, surrendering his daughter once again to Azriel. He handed one of the hand-made soft caramels to Nyx and Lucien's son. "It's more the look on your face that's amusing, Rhysand Darling." He paused, looking around. "Where are our other friends?"

Azriel took a cookie, breaking it in half for the boys as their mothers fell into a deep conversation, not noticing as their sons were fed sugar. "Cassian and the girls will be here soon. Mor is in Winter with Viv. Amren is still in Summer."

Lucien rose a brow, smirking. "Still? It's been almost 2 months."

Azriel nodded. "It's not him. It's her."

"You two won't be much better," Rhys said casually as he looked between you and Azriel.

Azriel sighed, "Soon."

You perked up as the door open, smiling in an almost feral way to Eris. "And the show begins."

The Valkyries came in first, carrying a few snacks with them and adding to the table. They were all in black dresses with black corsets. Nesta had a ceremony knife strapped to her waist, Gwyn had shimmering potion bottles on hers, and Emerie had an old leather bound book. Cassian came in next with his and Nesta's son, holding his hand as he hid behind his father.

For such a loud outgoing male and a bold daring female, they had given birth to the quietest being you had ever met. You kneeled down, holding your arms out to him and he ran to you instantly. Cassian was dressed in black robes, he also carried a book of ancient spells and rituals. "Little guy is nervous over the spooky pumpkins in the yard."

You nodded, lifting your nephew as you held him close. "I'm sorry, bud." He reached for Eris, and the male took him, smiling at his little leathers with bright blue siphons.

"Did you want Uncle Azriel's shadows or no?" He nodded shyly, resting his head on Eris's shoulder. "You know, Auntie y/n bought extra pumpkins for you three to decorate tonight. We can have Auntie Fey help yours look really cool and less spooky."

Feyre's smile grew. "We could turn it into a kitty, or a carriage!"

"Can we play?" He whispered. "And have candy?"

You all nodded. "I made all three of you super special apples this year. And apple sauce for our little princess."

The boys all nodded excited, and you looked at Azriel, giving him the code to begin Cassian's torment. He made a shadowy figure appear behind Nyx, following the little heir to where you had set up games for them and little snack bags for when they got to run through the House going from room to room to collect candy. Cassian stared at the figure and then Nyx. Ignoring it at first as he socialized and got drinks for himself and his trio of witches.

His glance kept going to Nyx as the night passed and the littles played games, smiling and screaming through the House as they found each hidden scare behind the doors and collected their candy from the shadows waiting for them.

"You out did yourself and exceeded expectations once again, sister," Rhysand leaned on the counter next to you, smiling as he drank his spiked cider. "Though I would like to know why the shadows are looming over my son."

You smiled at the boys, watching as they pulled Cassian to the last door to be opened before they got to sit with their hand made candies and make smores. "Just watch, brother," Azriel said smoothly, a scarred hand running up and down your arm as he watched with a smirk.

"Daddy, please!" A tiny version of Azriel pushed Cassian towards the door. "You have to! Mommy did one!"

Cassian looked to Nesta, who nodded in confirmation. "It was a mirror, but instead of reflecting me, it was the King of Hybern holding his head."

Cassian rolled his shoulders back, popping his neck quickly and shaking his hands out. He knocked, thinking he was activating the magic to be ready, and you just smirked. He opened the door and froze before a scream echoed in the house causing Rhys to spit out his cider into the sink and cough. The room was silent, waiting for the shadowed figure to disappear, "You didn't," Rhys whispered.

"Oh, she did." Cassian backed away slowly, putting the three boys behind him just as Bryaxis disappeared. His shoulders visibly relaxed falling into a false sense of comfort as the 3 boys and Nesta began to giggle.

"He's right behind me, isn't he?" Feyre nodded, a tattooed hand covering her mouth. Cassian turned his head in a comedic fashion, whispering it was all fake, just cheap tricks you had conjured to scare the kids. "Just cheap tricks." He repeated over and over until he opened his eyes and looked up, staring straight into the looming figure of an ancient God of Terror.

"Boo," Bryaxis hissed out. Cassian screamed again, running to hide behind Nesta and leaving the three boys their holding out their candy bags.

"Trick or treat," they sang to him in unison. You all watched as the God pulled the largest candy bags you had packaged out, putting on in each bag after shifting himself into an adult sized replica of the little shadow babies behind Nyx. Bryaxis floated to Gwyneth, seeming to almost smile down at her. "You have left the library?"

She nodded. "It took some encouragement, but yes. We miss you protecting us." Bryaxis moved to Feyre, shadowy limbs moving her hair gently.

"I am ready to come home." Feyre seemed to melt on the spot. "If you will still host me." Cassian turned to Rhys, his face falling in terror as the High Lord nodded to his lady. "Did I get a window?"

"Several actually," Feyre confirmed. "You have a sky light now. It's enchanted to protect you from the sun and darken the room during the day, but allow you to see out at night and admire the stars." Bryaxis nodded, disappearing out the window and towards the House of Wind.

Cassian turned to you, "What the fuck was that for?"

You took a sip of water, "Dropping me on purpose on April Fool's Day."

Cassian opened his mouth to defend himself, but paused as he saw his son and cousin giggling as they sat in a little circle.

Eris entered the room, smiling broadly and gently pushing Lucien. "Fire is ready if the boys are." He turned to Cassian. "I thought for a second I needed to come rescue my mate when you screamed. Then I remembered her and Aspyn were next to me." Laughter erupted through the room as Cassian smirked at Eris. The two males jokingly shoved each other, smiling as they grabbed drinks.

Everyone left the room laughing as Eris and Cassian verbally picked on each other, heading to the large bonfire. You, Rhys, and Azriel stood inside, waiting for the door to shut before the High Lord turned to you two.

"I had a thought I wanted to speak to you about y/n," Rhys grabbed a handful of the trail mix you had made. "We've enjoyed this tradition so much the past few years, and if you are okay with it, I would like to introduce it to all of Velaris next year."

He paused, watching excitement set in on your face. "I just imagine the streets full of children enjoying the festivities. We do not have many holidays and traditions aimed towards them, and this truly seems to be from them more than adults."

You nodded, smile growing. "I would need you to lead the community on it. Hold meetings explaining traditions, teach the citizens how to make treats, talk to seamstresses about costume designs. Could you do that for me?"

"Yes!" You bounced in place, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. "Of course I can!"

"You will have to do one more thing, sweetness," Rhys tilted your chin up to his face. "Nyx will never forgive me if Auntie y/n stops having her haunted cabin. I need this to continue until the boys lose interest, and even then after that for Aspyn and this little ones you two may have some day. I know it's been a discussion." He smirked at your non verbal confirmation. "Nyx will want to take part when he's older during set up and execution. He dreams about it and has little maps of ideas in his room."

You and Azriel had froze, your mate's hand and arm coming around your waist. "What gave away that we were trying?"

Rhys pointed towards your untouched cider and the candy and snacks you and Azriel had been eating all night. "She hasn't drank alcohol for the past 3 months, you have been deligated missions that keep you far from home for too long, and you, dear brother, have been even more obsessed with little Aspyn. The last click was the baggy costume instead of her being your arm candy tonight like she normally is. No one else knows that you're actively trying. I will keep it to myself until you're ready."

Rhys leaned in, kissing your forehead. "Think about my request. We will loan all the help you need. Excuse me while I go stop my wife from eating all of the marshmallows."

You and Azriel stood there, the shadowsinger placing soft kisses on your temple, then cheek, and neck. "You did a wonderful job, dove. The shadows have been whispering everyone's praises back to me all night." You smiled, turning in his arms to kiss his jaw. "Let's go get smores. I know you have been waiting for them all day."

He grabbed the bowl you had been digging in all night and your hand. The two of you smiled as Eris told the three young boys a campfire story, bouncing his daughter gently on his knee as he did.

Cassian wrapped an arm around you as you sat next to him, "Great party again, even if you scared me shitless."

"Did Rhysie tell you what he wants to do next year?" Cassian nodded. "What do you think?"

"As long as Auntie's spooky cabin continues, I'm in. Ness and I will help however we can."

"Then we should do it."

He nodded, watching as Azriel used his shadows to scare the boys at the perfect point in Eris's story. "Yes, yes, we should."

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #halloweenfics2023

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elenamegan14 · 8 months

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Yandere One Piece - Irish/Nordic Fae Folk Myth X F!Reader - Prologue

It's a spooky season, and I have yet to see any Yandere One Piece reader fics based on Slavic myths and legends! Blame me for being too invested in Bramble: the Mountain King game.

---

Once, there was a childless couple who lived in a quaint village. Although the village is rich in tradition and harvest, it was also a fearsome place. Not far from them lies a great forest called the Grand Line, a home of every fae folks, each more astounding and nightmarish than man had ever known.

But that was where our story began.

One night, on a full moon during a winter’s eve, the couple is visited by a frail, old woman. They immediately brought her in, warmed her, and fed her. When all is done, she transforms into a beautiful fairy. A member of the fairy monarchy, Rogue.

To thank the couple, Rogue rewarded them with something they had yearned for years: a child. And so, on the first day of Spring, a healthy baby girl was born.

Alas, even the fairy world has it;s own rules, and the rule is crueler than the rules of mankind. A baby who is granted life by the fairy must be returned back by the ripe age of thirteen. Rogue did not want her work to go to waste, so she told the couple that they must move the child away from the village, never to enter any fairy rings at any cost, and give their child a pair of special earrings made of iron to protect them.

Thus, the family evaded the pursuit of the fae folks beyond the age of thirteen. In retaliation, the fae folks began to terrorize the villagers - they would not stop to torment them until the child was given to them. Furious at the fleeing family for putting them into this bedlam, the villagers set up a trap to return the child back to the Grand Line.

Eighteen years have passed, and the child grew up in the Kingdom of Goa. With each passing day, the blessings from Rogue had made the child cunning, wise, and attractive. The child was a curious oddity amongst her peers, but there was one person who despised her existence more so than the others.

Sarie is the daughter of a notorious monarchy in the Goa Kingdom. Although she has everything in the palm of her hand, she is wicked jealous of the child’s charm and beauty. Her opportunity stuck when a vengeful villager asked her to cooperate to rid of the child’s existence in the mortal world.

Soon after, Sarie begged her fiancee, Sterry, to arrange a special trip only for his classmates, the child included, straight to the child’s original village. Sterry and his cohorts lured the child to the edge of the forest, right before the entrance of Grand Line. Once there, Sarie threw her scarf into the middle of the fairy ring and asked the child to pick it up for her.

The child is confused. Why should she follow such a petty instruction? Also, the child pleaded that she was not supposed to enter the fairy ring at any cost. However, Sterry and their classmates loudly demanded her to do so.

When the child reluctantly tried to enter the fairy ring, Sterry once again ordered the child to take off the child’s iron earrings for Sarie. She tried to refuse but Sterry warned her that if she disobeyed, he would make sure that she became the enemy of Goa.

The child had always wanted to be accepted by Sterry and Sarie - she did not understand what she had done wrong to receive his ire. The child also knew that Sarie and Sterry’s family had more power than her family did. She hastily took off her earrings and gave them to Sarie. With a heavy heart, she entered the fairy ring.

Sterry and Sarie’s deception became light once she turned around inside the fairy ring, only to find herself alone in a strange forest. She ran back and forth, calling for her classmates.

None answered.

Alone, terrified, and confused, the child trekked into the woods of Grand Line on her own, in hoping to find her way home… not knowing that she had fulfilled her promise…

And break the village’s curse.

---

You are wandering around the fogged oath, unable to see what's beyond. Suddenly, you heard footsteps. Behind you, in front of you, everywhere! You barely have a moment's rest when a mischievous-looking human-like creature appears before your very eyes. Shrieking, you fall back behind, astounded by what you see.

"Shishishi! Did I scare you?" The creature grinned hugely, enhancing his unique shaggy features with a stitched scar underneath his left eye.

Monkey D. Luffy, the Pookah, has arrived. Next

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ladykissingfish · 8 months

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*in the living room*

Obito: Gramps! Come on! Just let me go!

Madara: Boy. You’ve heard my say on the matter. Be a man and accept it.

Obito: I’m not a man, I’m only 13 years old! For Kami’s sake, just let me go trick or treating with my friends! All I want is a spooky good time!

Madara: You want me to not only let you out of this house looking like a depraved lunatic, but to allow you to parade from door to door begging for food, as if you’re not fed plenty at home? For shame, Obito.

Obito: *points* Mikoto is going!

Madara: That’s different. She’s taking a group of small children out. She works hard and can spend her free time as she pleases. But you? What do you do all day besides moon about and write terrible poetry about that eye-stealing Hatake boy?

Obito: He didn’t steal the eye, grandfather! It was a gift! And —

Mikoto: Boys. That’s enough. Grandfather, I do think you’re being a bit unreasonable. Let Obito go. If it makes you feel better, I’ll take him and his friends along with my group and keep an eye on them, and I’ll make sure he’s not “dishonoring” the Uchiha name. Alright?

Madara: *sighs* Very well. Go if you must, boy. Just know that my disappointment in you is —

Obito: *hugs Madara hard enough to crack his ribs* Thanks, gramps! Mikoto, give me twenty minutes and I’ll be ready! *runs upstairs*

Mikoto: Thank you for keeping the peace, grandfather. And don’t worry, I’ll —

Mikoto: Er … what are you doing?

Madara: *rummaging through the closet* Looking for — Ah! Here it is! *pulls out a giant spider costume*

Mikoto: What the hell is that for?

Madara: Remember I used to wear this at night to get baby Obito to relax and fall asleep?

Mikoto: Relax? You gave him a mini heart attack every time he saw you in that! It’s where his night terrors come from, and why he has such a fear of spiders now!

Madara: Mm. Well, if my grandson wants a “spooky good time”, I’m going to give him and his little friends the time of their lives. *puts on costume* You’ll see me later tonight, my dear. You and Obito. *transports away*

Mikoto:

**Once again based off of the fantastic menace headcanon of “Grandpa Madara” by @squidpus 😊**

#halloween #halloween 2023 #someone pls stop Madara or at least give him his meds #obito uchiha #madara uchiha #mikoto uchiha #seriously I cannot stress enough how much @squidpus headcanons and art on this gives me life ☺️🙏🏽#obkk #kkob

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deancashorrorfest · 7 months

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Step right up to another wondrous round of DeanCas Horrorfest! The writers and the artists have collaborated to make this year one for the history books. We've got ghouls, we've got monsters, we've got blood, we've got gay love --- And when I say you shouldn't miss this, I mean you really don't want to miss this collection of spooky stories... you really don't know what could happen if you do 🤡🔪 I'd like to thank all our contributors for keeping the spirit of samhain alive and well. DeanCas Horrorfest would be nothing without enthusiastic cult members participants like you. ❤ So, without further ado...

You Better Not Stay || Rated E

story by @friendofcarlotta with art by @demeters-sketchbook

Recent high school graduates Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak have been friends since childhood, and dating in secret for a little over a year. But their relationship has an expiration date: Cas is leaving town, and Dean… well, Dean isn’t. Not with his dad breathing down his neck and a family business to run.

For their final date, Dean takes Cas to the old skating rink where they used to spend time as kids. What Dean doesn’t know is that when the rink closed down, something else took up residence there. And it won’t let them go without a fight. Link to Fic || Link to Art

The (After) Life of the Party || Rated M

story by @thebatmandiaries with art by @milfycas

After a fight with Sam one night, Dean wakes up in a world he is unfamiliar with. This world only has one rule: kill or be killed. As a designated Killer, he must kill all the Survivors before they have a chance to complete their task. If he doesn’t, he ruins the risk of becoming a Survivor himself. With the help of Charlie and Benny, other Killers, he slowly finds his footing in the new world he was thrust into. If only there wasn’t a strange blue eyed man to distract him… Link to Fic || Link to Art

Danger In The Mirror || Rated M

story by @dwinchester1979 with art by @keikakudom

Castiel is pulled through the mirror into a nightmare. Now his husband has to cover for his mysterious missing presence as he desperately tries to get Castiel back. Can they figure out the secret of the mirror before time runs out, or will Castiel have to face the girl with the silver dagger all alone? Link to Fic || Link to Art

The Beginning || Rated E

story by @valleydean with art by @hawkland

One year ago, soon after Lucifer was freed from the Cage, Dean and Sam parted ways. Since then, Dean has been hunting on his own and, along with Cas despite his declining grace, searching for a way to prevent the apocalypse. When the outbreak of the Croatoan virus begins, Dean and Cas head to Bobby’s to plan their next move. On the way, as the contagion rapidly spreads through America, they must contend with the rabid infected, martial law, and humans who will do anything to ensure their own survival. Link to Fic || Link to Art

Clutch || Rated M

story by @dogfishmonger with art by @dolgoyangi

Dean is a normal, stable man in his 20s: He has a job. He has a boyfriend of three years, even if they're on the rocks. He has a little brother in pre-law. There are, simultaneously, things in his upbringing that he simply isn't supposed to question: His father's unexplained, undefined trips out of state. His mother's death. The body he once found in the basement. When Sam runs off in search of answers, Dean and Cas head east to find him. But after catching up with him, something's... different. Wrong. Dean and Cas are at odds—again—with Dean believing that Sam could be in danger, and Cas suspicious that Sam is the danger. Returning to normalcy will involve more digging into forbidden territory than Dean was ever prepared for. In the end, he doesn't even know if it was worth it. They're left with just as many questions as answers, and the answers they do have are ugly, insidious things, glistening oil-spill black and undulating. Link to Fic || Link to Art

The Void Within || Rated E

story by @preetkiran1016 with art by @sketcheun

Dean's still getting used to the ache of loss and grief burning a hole into his chest. Still not used to the empty space where his brothers used to be. His life is a day to day drudgery, the eternal crawl, and since Cas broke up with him, he's not quite sure what he's got left to stick around for. When Jack and Claire go missing, well, he can't just sit back and watch. Digging deeper, Dean finds himself caught in the middle of a complicated web he can't hope to begin to untangle. Missing Kids, Doomsday Cults, and the sudden return of Castiel in his life have Dean spiraling, even with his trusted Service Dog, Miracle, by his side. But the one question remains, above all others- Who were the Men of Letters, and what were they doing in Lawrence? Dean doesn't think he's going to like the answer. Link to Fic || Link to Art

The Crawling Dark || Rated T

story by @sylvanfreckles with art by @cactus-79

Dean was hoping for a straightforward case, something that would let him and Castiel have a little private time together. But what they found in the caves beneath Delving, Colorado was a stinking labyrinth of a death and decay, with an ancient horror at its heart. At the mercy of the darkness around them, Dean and Castiel must face a creature of immeasurable strength and insatiable hunger, with light as their only salvation. After all, it is better to light a candle than to curse the crawling dark. Link to Fic || Link to Art

Apres Moi, Le Deluge || Rated M

story by @folkbloodbaths with art by @an-android-in-a-tutu

Dean and Sam are on a camping trip, and they haven’t been home in a few days. When a sudden rainstorm and an injured ankle have them seeking shelter, an abandoned ranger’s cabin offers an unexpected port in the storm. Except, the abandoned cabin isn’t abandoned. Is its occupant, Castiel, just a recluse, or is he someone — or something — more sinister? Dean can’t help but feel drawn to him, even as he begins to have strange and terrible dreams about rising flood waters and a canopy of billowing black wings. And still, the rain continues to fall. Link to Fic || Link to Art (cw for flashing gif)

For Crying Out Loud || Rated M

story by @rowanspn with art by @solstheimart

Their relationship is perfect. At least, it was once. After a harrowing rescue from the depth of the Empty, a heartfelt reunion, and a breath of reciprocation, Castiel and Dean started to live life as they deserved. However, every Winchester knows that happiness does not stay long, not for that bloodline anyway. One night, following a fight worse than ever before, a terrible accident rips Castiel's life, and heart, in two. The guilt threatens to consume him but there is something far darker hiding in the shadows of his home. Will Castiel find a way to survive the ache in his chest or will the evil within his lonely walls kill him before it gets the chance? Link to Fic || Link to Art

Shall We Begin Again? || Rated E

story by @livingonaprayerstiel with art by @blanchescarlettm

Castiel is rescued from the Empty and wants to pick up where he left off with Dean. But, it is soon revealed that the Empty is not as gone as it seems. Castiel will have to find out who or what can be trusted as he acclimates to his new life. Link to Fic || Link to Art

Tenebrous || Rated E

story by @deancodedcastielenby with art by @hawkland

The war is over, Chuck is done and it's now the time where the Winchesters get peace... or is it. The war against God may be over, but that doesn't mean smooth sailing. Jack promises to be hands off, but there is a storm coming almost 12 years in the making. Sam knows something is wrong with Dean, it started out small, but now.... now it's become a problem so he enlists the aid of Rowena and Eileen, the only ones he can count on, to help him solve the mystery of Dean Winchester before its too late. Link to Fic || Link to Art

Conversion || Rated E

story by @bleuzombie with art by @nickelkeep

In order to avoid a jail sentence trans man Dean agrees to attend religious-based residential treatment for 90 days. Dean fights to maintain his sense of self as he is attacked mentally, and physically, and fights to protect his new friends Charlie and Castiel. Soon the treatment turns to torture. Jail would have been preferable. Link to Fic || Link to Art

The Elevator Game || Rated E

story by @motherofdragonflies with art by @xfancyfranart

The game is simple. Get in an elevator, and follow the rules. If you follow them correctly, the elevator will rise and when the doors open, they will open onto a world that is not your own. When his brother goes missing after investigating the death of a teenage girl in a hotel in St. Louis, Dean Winchester is dismayed to discover it involved an internet legend called “the Elevator Game”. He’s even more dismayed when Castiel—who walked away weeks ago and hasn’t been returning Dean’s calls—shows up, also looking for Sam. Dean doesn’t want to work with Castiel, and Castiel doesn’t seem thrilled about working with him, either. Can they put their differences aside when they discover that Sam disappeared after playing the Elevator Game? Will Dean and Castiel play the game and travel to the Other World themselves? Will they find Sam before it's too late? The choice, dear reader, is yours. You are in control of the story. But choose wisely, for once you play the Elevator Game, things may never be the same again. Link to Fic || Link to Art

Like Ivy || Rated E

story by @abi-cosmos with art by @soloarcana

Dean Winchester was raised to be a killer, but after losing his brother Sam, he could do with a chance to lay low and rest up. Luckily, a 'roommate wanted' advertisement stuck to the window of a coffee shop leads him to Castiel, a professor at a local college who offers him three weeks' accommodation. At first, Castiel gets under Dean's skin, but they soon develop a friendship within the isolated house they're living in. Despite how haunted he is by his past, or how Castiel seems able to read his mind, Dean feels drawn to him and can't help but take things further. But Dean isn't the only one with secrets, and the line between friendship, love, and obsession gets bloody and blurry. Link to Fic || Link to Art

Rough Trade || Rated E

story by @squirrelofcelestialintent with art by @alicetallula

Dean is used to doing what he has to in order to get by, especially whenever his tough, temperamental father kicks him out during one of his rages. Even if it means getting on his knees for a little extra cash. He can take care of himself. He always knew the dangers of a trick going sideways, and he accepted it. What he didn’t expect was for someone to burst out of the darkness and save his sorry ass. Least of all a weird, nerdy little dude who seems to have just as many secrets as Dean and doesn’t know how to use a vending machine. Dean has street smarts and Castiel has (a little) cash. They’re both headed for the west coast to find their families. Teaming up seems like a safe bet. But the more time Dean spends with Cas, the weirder he seems. And the more he suspects that what he saw Cas do to his attacker on the day that he saved him - the terrible, inhuman thing - wasn’t a trauma induced hallucination after all. Screw it. With someone on their tail, Dean’s going to find out who his real enemies are soon enough. Link to Fic || Link to Art

Autumn Obscurum || Rated M

story by @xiejie-liubo with art by @hawaii-shirt-queer

Bartholomew's Bend is a quiet, ordinary place where ordinary people live their ordinary lives. Nothing of note ever happens, and all of the citizens are content to keep it that way. However, their tranquility is shattered when a series of disappearances startles the town's denizens, coinciding with the arrival of the Carnivale Obscurum and its proprietors, Asmodeus and Sands. Inspired by Ray Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes Link to Fic || Link to Art

Can You See Me? || Rated T

story by @kingdumbass with art by @ephemerastardust

Sioux Falls, South Dakota. 1995. After being stowed with their Uncle Bobby for the foreseeable future, Dean and Sam set out to make the most of their summer ‘vacation’. When they aren’t filling warm afternoons splashing in the creek, riding their bicycles, or suffering through old TV reruns, they’re in for cleanup duty. Namely, sorting through all of Bobby’s old crap. One day, while rummaging through the long-forgotten attic, Sam discovers an antique spirit board and convinces a skeptical Dean to try summoning a spirit. The results of which turn out to be a little more supernatural than Dean bargained for. Link to Fic || Link to Art

Link to Ao3 Collection

Happy Halloween! 🎃👻

#deancashorrorfest #deancas horrorfest masterpost #destiel fic rec #happy halloween

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