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cloveroctobers · 6 months

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OCTOBER PROMPTS 🦇 — 5. RIO

A/N: had a dream about my man the other night so I guess that was his way of telling me that he misses me? We love delulu!!! Anyways thought this would be fun to actually write something on the line of thriller/spooky this time around. This is me making up for not writing part two’s to my other fall inspired prompt on this man way back when. Hope y’all enjoy this 🧡🫶🏽!!!

PROMPT is from HERE + I’m using: A Begs B to come explore an old house that they believe is haunted. B is hesitant, especially after hearing the scary tales A knows so much about.

*GIF + PHOTO DO NOT BELONG TO ME!

WARNINGS: some France slander, language & hints of sexual content.

<- read my previous October anthology prompt here.

𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆 𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆 𒅒𒈔

Being in France for the month of October initially wasn’t the plan.

Khadijah and Rio ventured out here for a couple days for Khadijah’s birthday and for Rio to tie up some loose ends for business. What was supposed to be a four day trip turned into a much longer adventure.

“I know y’all done heard they got bed bugs out there, why are your asses staying out there longer?” Khadijah’s mother blurted into the FaceTime call.

Rio chuckled to himself by the mini bar, fixing himself something brown before entering the main living room part of the suite.

“Mom,” Khadijah hissed as she flicked through the channels, “this was a unexpected extended birthday trip.”

“Uh huh, sure it is.” The older woman said not entirely believing that, “Don’t think you can get cute on us and decide not to come back.”

“I’m already cute,” Khadijah modeled with extra shoulder as she sat on the tan couch while her mother brings the camera to show that she’s rolling her eyes.

“Well where do you think you get it from?”

“My father.”

“More like you got his smart mouth.” Khadijah’s mom comments, making her child hold up her finger to interject.

Now she loved her mom dearly but it was no secret that Khadijah was a daddy’s girl and her father’s favorite daughter despite what her two sisters thought. She was one of four children while her youngest sibling happened to be the only boy.

“Aw c’mon, don’t do Mr. Wells like that, especially if he’s not here to defend himself. Where is he anyway? It’s gotta be after 10:30 back home?” Rio came into frame, crouching behind Khadijah, who turned to peck his cheek before facing her phone once more.

The woman sighed, “where else? Working, working, working. I’ve been telling him he needs to slow down, he’s not some twenty year old no more. Lord knows it.”

Mr. Wells had a heart attack last year and had to have a stint put in. Rio’s never seen Khadijah’s so stressed before in his life and although the hardworking man had a good job with good insurance working for the city, they slammed him with some bills that Rio paid off. Which Mr. Wells wouldn’t let slide and already was in the process of paying back.

His choice, not Rio’s.

“He’s close to retirement and he loves supporting his family which is respectable.” Rio starts before joking, “once that happens then the both of you can come with us to Paris next time.”

“Uh uh. I’m never going over there, never had the desire to which is why I want y’all asses to get out of there fast!” Mrs. Wells’ large glasses come into frame now as she holds the phone at not the best angle, “I’d love to see Dubai or St. Lucia with Kayode, your father, and I guess your big headed brother can come too, Deej.”

Khadijah laughs, “yeah and he can bring Eliza too.”

“if I catch him even thinking about it, I’ll click my heels three times and send her bony ass right to hell.”

Laughter bubbles in Khadijah’s throat as she sends a teasing smile to Rio who winked back at his wife, knowing that neither of Khadijah’s parents were fond of their youngest child’s significant other. He was nineteen and found his supposed first love so it was evident that the pair were clingy and so in love with each other. They went to the same high school together, weren’t in the same cliques but ended up at the same community college and decided to give each other a try.

In shorter terms.

“We’ll make it happen,” Rio sighs as he comes around to plop down on the couch next to Khadijah, tossing a hand around the back of the couch, “minus Eliza right?”

“Damn straight,” Mrs. Wells humphed, “she can date somebody else’s son and boss them around for all i care. I just hope it’s over before thanksgiving.”

“Now Mom! Let’s not spread that negative energy for your birthday month, do you need some lavender and Kirk Franklin to keep your blood pressure down?”

The woman with the now bonnet secured around her micro locs fanned her hand, “I already had my session with Mr. Franklin around 7pm so hush! You know that’s what I’m wishing for and hoping you don’t wait around and decide to come back then.”

Khadijah blinks at Rio, who meets her stare. He had no plans of staying here longer than another few days, things got delayed and he offered to send Khadijah back to Detroit if that’s what she wanted but she had some vacation time that she didn’t mind using and she didn’t want to leave Rio behind either.

He’s been busy lately and she just knows as soon as they get back to Detroit, he’ll probably disappear for a little awhile again. So sue the woman if she wanted to be a little selfish and spend more time with her man.

“We’re gonna bring you something much better,” Rio smirks after taking a sip of his liquor, “maybe even a new bundle of joy.”

“WHAT?!” Mrs. Wells yells, “don’t play with me right now. When was your last cycle? I’ve been saying your tatas been looking fuller, ooooh I’ll have to tell your grandmomma.”

“Hey, hey! I’m not pregnant—

“Yet. We’ve been practicing though.” Rio announces, biting down on his bottom lip while Khadijah gasps and shoved at his knee.

Mrs. Wells claps her hands in joy, “y’all keep doing that but don’t bring those bed bugs back with you.”

“We won’t and did our research. If it makes you feel any better, we’re leaving this hotel tonight to stay at this castle for the rest of our trip and then tomorrow we’re gonna go explore this historic house since Rio wanted to have a rest day.” Khadijah informs her mother while Rio slowly nods his head, not knowing of the exploring a house portion but they’d discuss it later.

Mrs. Wells yawns as she sits up in bed now, “sounds fancy but okay then, mom’s tired and ready to knock out. But continue to be safe, the both of you and I’ll see you soon?”

“You sure will, night momma Wells.” Rio gave a two finger salute while Khadijah shared, “I love you’s, talk soon.” Before hanging up the call.

Khadijah leans back against the couch with a sigh, “told you mom’s got serious seperation anxiety all thanks to Kaliyah moving to Toronto with her girlfriend and we’re only traveling!”

“Which is exactly why I tried to smooth over her worries with baby talk, it worked didn’t it?” Rio lifts a thick brow while Khadijah shrugs her shoulders.

Soon she rests her head on Rio’s chest, locking her arms around his waist, “it’ll happen when it’s meant to…and we need to make sure we’re all packed for our new temporary home.”

“Oh I know I am, it’s you you gotta worry about mamas.” Rio presses a kiss to Khadijah’s rosemary scented hair.

Khadijah scoffs, “sorry but I had to buy more for this trip…which I’m not complaining! BUT! Paris’ fashion is really for the petite girlies.”

“They’re forreal missing out on the inclusion and better get on that.” Rio hummed.

“Siobhán is.” Khadijah grins while Rio slowly dips his head at the mention of his old designer friend.

Before Khadijah could get into asking about how she’s been doing, Rio sips from his drink once more and changes the subject, “what’s this about exploring tomorrow?”

“We maybe moving into a castle mansion for a little awhile but there’s no way I’m staying cooped up any longer without seeing what Dordogne has to offer.” Khadijah tells her husband with the perfect pronunciation of the town—or rather department as France calls it.

Rio raises the hand the rests against his wife’s shoulder, “heard you, mamas. No arguing on my part but you know it’s beneficial to have reset days too.”

“Which YouTuber told you that?” Khadijah smirks up at the buzz haired man, figuring that he was probably logged onto her account instead of switching over to his own to watch whatever it is he gets into.

Rio snorts, “don’t try and play me, my aesthetician did.”

“Of course they did.” Khadijah nods believing that since Rio didn’t mess around when it came to his skincare, “and you’re right, there’s nothing wrong with rest days. You’ve been running around x2 compared to me so I get it. You get a nap in and I’ll get the bags ready since we have what? An hour before the service comes and gets us.”

Rio grips Khadijah’s hand as she gets up from the couch, “you sure all an hour is what you need?”

“Shut up, Christopher.” Khadijah laughs, matching Rio’s smile before leaving the man to get his nap on.

With the city life behind the married couple, they settled in Dordogne late last night into the 18th century home. Surprisingly Rio wakes up late the next day, like around eleven am late compared to his seven am timeline. However Khadijah doesn’t mind letting him sleep, snapping a picture of his rest with the camera she brought along for the trip. She watches the clock from time to time, knowing just when to order breakfast to be sent to their room.

Khadijah’s sitting on a olive couch pushed underneath the windows which are half pulled back, sipping on caffe viennese, stomach half full from a classic French breakfast as she stares out into the scenery acting like the main character in a Victorian film.

“Morning, mamas. You starting the day without me?” Rio’s rough morning voice greets the brown skinned woman, who glances over her shoulder at him.

A soft smile meets her full lips, “good morning but someone has to get this party started. But don’t worry, I’ll never not let you in on the thrill. Got you one of these,” she holds the mug up in the air, nodding with her chin on the nightstand next to the man, “and there’s breakfast waiting for you underneath the cloche.”

“Did I mention hearing you speak French is sexy?” Rio states as he slowly sits up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Khadijah smirks, “plenty when you were tipsy on the late night ride here.”

“I regret nothing,” Rio laughs before turning to reach and sip at the warm coffee, “this is delicious.”

Khadijah pops her tongue, “Yeah it is.”

“What we doin’ today? Hold up, what time is it?” Rio turns his eyes into slits, reaching for his phone to let out a low whistle, “damn, haven’t slept that long—

“Since you got shot?”

Rio let’s out a cough, “whoa, that was dark.”

“Sorry,” Khadijah says, “kinda just slipped out.”

“Something you wanna talk about, Dija?” Rio hums, staring at his wife from their temporary shared bed.

Khadijah shakes her head, “nothing I want to get into on this brand new day, no. So!”

She uncurls her feet from underneath her to stand in her floral print lace trim set, placing a smile on her lips as she plops down on the bed. Taking a quick sip of the coffee again, she places it on her side of the nightstand and reaches inside to pull out two slips of paper.

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?” Rio suspiciously tries to peek at the papers but Khadijah slaps them right on her chest.

“You asked what we’re gonna do.”

“Didn’t you say exploring some house last night?” Rio frowns, trying to remember.

Khadijah’s little smile to herself seems wicked but as soon as it appeared it vanished while she wiggled a bit on the bed, “that’s tonight’s adventure after dinner. We have at least a few hours before then to do something else so…pick one, anyone.”

The two options were: Château des Milandes OR Canoeing on the Brantôme.

Rio doesn’t wipe the frown off his brows but holds out his thumb and pointer finger while Khadijah holds onto the deck of two pieces. The tatted man makes a show of taking his time debating, just to irritate Khadijah for a little until he smiles picking the paper to the left.

And the winner is…

“Great choice! Now get your butt up and let’s shower, they’ve been open since 9 this morning.”

Chateau des Milandes!

Rio hums as he studies the paper, sipping at his coffee then replies, “can I enjoy my breakfast along with the view first?”

Khadijah dramatically sighs as she flops beside Rio, resting on her elbow to stare back at the ajar windows, “oh fine but I promise you, the one outside is much better.”

“personally I like the one right next to me.”

Khadijah flicks her head back to meet Rio’s brown eyes and she can’t help but to let a smile split over her lips, then puckering them for Rio to peck and lick his own smiling lips afterwards, “you think you’re so smooth.”

“I mean give a guy some credit. How else do you think I got you?” Rio chuckled while Khadijah just nodded her head from side to side mockingly.

“Just eat your food Christopher.”

It was Rio’s turn to mimic his wife.

“Aight, Khadijah.” He said over his shoulder, sitting on his knees and reaching over for the second tray of food.

Chateau Des Milandes was a sight to see and was a wonderful experience. Ugh!!! here Khadijah was sounding like her very emotional Granny Mozella but she never took moments like these with Rio for granted. On the outside it may seem like Rio was only street smart since that’s what he preferred yet he didn’t mind listening in on historical facts from time to time and no he wasn’t really into podcasts—unless it was true crime content—but no one could ever say he wasn’t open to learning new material and translating it into his own life.

He was good at finding purpose in anything.

He also liked draping his arm across Khadijah’s shoulders as they took the tour around the home that used to be owned by the successful Josephine Baker. That was more interesting to Khadijah than the Lords that lived it way before Ms. Baker but nonetheless they took it all in together including the architecture.

No one could deny that France had a way with its design and art.

They explored the garden, which led to a picnic and wine for dinner with the French sunset as the perfect backdrop, then they ended their time at the Chateau with a bird experience, much to Rio’s surprise as Khadijah winked and placed a kiss on the tattoo on his neck, before clenching onto his arm for dear life once the various of birds—specifically the one that was very similar to the one on Rio’s skin started flying around.

Rio found amusement in that, even when they made it back to the rental car.

“If that big ass bird would have crapped on me, we would have been having a whole different type of bird for thanksgiving this year.” Khadijah continuously checked her outfit for any unfamiliar marks, the paranoia getting to her.

Rio couldn’t help but to throw his head back against the headrest laughing. “They’ve been trained, that wasn’t gonna happen. Plus it may just wanted a strand of your hair for warmth, huh? French winters can be brutal so I hear.”

The man went to curl a strand of his wife’s loose curl that framed her face who scoffed at him.

“You’re far from funny, Mr. Montoya.” Khadijah slapped his hand away to fix her pin curl updo in the drop down mirror.

Rio chuckled some more, watching her, “you’re right…I’m hilarious, Mrs. Montoya.”

“Im glad you had fun, baby. I can tell the bird part was your favorite,” Khadijah gave the man a playful side eye, “but now it’s time for my activity.”

Rio glanced at the watch on his wrist, “it’s going on seven…what else you trying to get into besides drinking more wine and eating cheese?”

“Whew! No more cheese for me.” Khadijah flicked the sun visor back up, “so…I have this other place to visit.”

Rio tapped on the GPS, “aight, what’s the address?”

“I don’t think the GPS will fully locate it…just to a certain point.”

Rio thought about this for a second and asked, “what? It’s some underground event or something?”

“Well sure, yeah. Kinda.” Khadijah shrugged her shoulders making Rio sigh and sit back with his hands clasped.

Khadijah was tapping away on her phone for a moment while Rio just studied her. When she realized the car wasn’t moving, Khadijah turned her attention back to Rio who was patiently waiting for her to come right on out with it.

“We’re not going anywhere until you give me the info I need. No shady shit allowed.”

Khadijah turned sideways to face Rio, “Okay so…there’s this house that we should see.”

“You said that already. But Why? To buy?”

“Hell no,” Khadijah was quick to say, further making Rio put his guard up as to what this whole adventure was even about, “I mean no…yeah no that’s exactly what I mean. It wouldn’t be for us to live…just to see.”

Rio pried, “what’s so special about it?”

“It has a colorful story.”

“Which is…?”

“The year was 1666–

“Nah,” Rio immediately said leaning forward to start the engine but Khadijah flew her hand out to stop Rio from switching the gears.

“You didn’t let me finish.”

Rio leans on the console to completely face Khadijah, “by the way you’re dragging this out let’s me know you’re about to tell me some bullshit, that you know I’m not about to let fly.”

“Can’t a bitch add some extra flavor to the tale?” Khadijah scrunches up her face, “Sheesh.”

“Stop playin’ with me, Dija.”

“So hostile,” Khadijah flicked her hair off her shoulder, “alright you want the synopsis? Got it. So this house is special because during the year of 1666 a woman named Blanche lived there with her father, mother, two siblings, and new husband. Allegedly she was later accused of poisoning her family and beheaded her husband after they all suspected she was a witch because of some rumors started at the hospital she volunteered at. Her sickly father was the one to put her down after his wife and other children slowly started to die one by one. They say Blanche still haunts the home and asks when and or if you visit, to leave a ribbon and tea bag’s on their front step as a offering and for her to rid any vengeance in your life.”

Rio caressed his facial hair in thought, “Question for you, mamas? Did that eagle peck at your brain when i wasn’t around or…”

Khadijah sucks her teeth, “it’s spooky season, asshole!”

“I know that,” Rio lifts his shoulders carelessly, “but you’re trying to get into some serious shit and I can tell you one thing: I’m not feelin’ it.”

“Are you scared?” Khadijah leaned into the center console ready to comfort him, “I never said we had to go inside the house. Just see it and leave something for Blanche.”

Rio didn’t miss how Khadijah started to trail her hands over him but he didn’t fold, “Her business ain’t ours.”

It was Khadijah’s turn to laugh now, “you’re definitely scared!”

“No I’m not.” Rio scowled, “I’m just saying you have to be careful what you expose yourself to. I told moms we’d bring her back a baby, not a witch that may latch onto your body.”

Khadijah frowns, “why would you think Blanche would latch onto mine and not yours?”

“Whoever! And I really can’t wrap my head around the fact that you’re trying to mess with some spirits.”

Khadijah wasn’t trying to “‘mess with spirits,” she always respected the dead but this sounded better than visiting the catacombs to be honest.

So she challenged, “Hey! It’s something to do.”

“I can find plenty of other things we can get into.” Rio placed his chin into the palm of his hand, “We’re not about to be here much longer anyway.”

Khadijah sighs as she grabs Rio’s hand to place in her lap, “I’ll let you try out our new toy at the same time while you’re inside…”

Rio’s eyes begin to darken as they meet Khadijah’s much lighter ones. This was a promising bargain and this Khadijah knew as Rio trailed his own hand up her stomach, between her breasts, and to grip her chin.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Rio states as he presses their lips together and leads the way with his tongue dancing along hers.

It’s passionate and a little nasty just the way the married couple liked their kisses but brief enough that he leaves Khadijah panting on the passenger side. He smirks to himself, lifting up from the driver’s side to pull out his Glock 17 from his black jeans to rest on the dashboard.

“Put your seatbelt on,” Rio tells Khadijah who shortly follows through, “and not a word of this to my abuelita.”

Khadijah makes a cross my heart motion as Rio puts the car in drive.

The drive to this supposed haunted home was a good half hour north from where they were staying and the decline of the countryside was clear. There seemed to be no livelihood as the skies got even darker. Rio could sense to the left of him that Khadijah seemed to be at unease the deeper they got into the area.

He checks in, “How we doing?”

“Hm? Oh, there it is. Stop.”

Rio turns his attention back to the lack of road up ahead and notices that there’s a tunnel with no lighting. He steps on the breaks, witnessing to the left of the tunnel the narrow road carried upwards to what exactly? That he didn’t know. There was no homes or animals in sight on this drive since they started getting further away from the chateau.

“What’s this?”

“That’s the tunnel that leads to Blanche’s house.” Khadijah is sitting on the edge of the passenger seat now.

Rio tightens his hold on the steering wheel, eyes scanning the scenery with the help of the automatic headlights. If they went through that tunnel, which was surely to be just as narrow as the roads out here in the countryside he wasn’t positive they would make it back. His intuition was telling him since the beginning that this didn’t feel right and being physically here was enough to confirm that for Rio.

Turning his eyes into slits towards the right of the tunnel, Rio can see a decaying headstone with a bunch of colorful ribbons tossed around and possibly some rocks that were most likely teabags scattered below it.

“This is what you came for,” Rio says keeping his eyes on the road.

“Oui-Oui.” Khadijah says suddenly halfhearted and any other time Rio would have laughed but the expression on her face made him aware that the tension was also felt by her as well.

Rio steps on the gas, driving full speed towards the tunnel but stops just at edge, parallel to the headstone, making Khadijah grip the dashboard at the abruptness.

“Get going, sweetheart.” Rio tells Khadijah with a lift of his chin.

Khadijah swallows, prying her eyes away from the tunnel then to the headstone and back to her husband. “W-what? You’re not coming with me?”

“I never said I was going in there. I have sense.” Rio tapped at his temple.

Khadijah glares, “wow. So here’s to trying new things was just another one of your lies then huh?”

“Another? Don’t go there, I’m not doing that with you this evening. You brought this terrible idea to me and I brought you here so go head, show me you’re the one who isn’t scared.” Rio’s hardened stare was now on the fuming woman.

Khadijah didn’t know what the fuck Rio’s problem was and why he thought this energy was okay? Khadijah didn’t like Rio’s tone so she snatched her baguette bag from beside her feet and went to push on the door but remained right inside.

“Are you serious?!”

Rio made a U-Turn and began driving back in the direction they came, “are you forreal thinking I’m about to have our asses messing around with the actual dead? Let alone your indecisive ass? And we don’t even have the full context?”

“I mean…do you not have bodies? You don’t see me questioning you about them.” Khadijah muttered.

Rio snapped his eyes to his wife, “two completely different things and you know that.”

It really wasn’t but okay, if Rio hated her riding the fence then let’s see if he hated it now.

“Whatever.” Khadijah slouched against the seat, “You just wasted our time, like why entertain the fact that you were with it if you’re just gonna try to clown me?”

“I wasn’t letting you do that and you should have known that.” Rio clenched his jaw, “I would never willingly put you in harm’s way and that’s exactly what you were signing up for.”

Khadijah knows Rio wouldn’t and if she wanted to be petty she could but she just mumbles, “You just ruined spooky season in France like?”

“Better throw that ribbon and teabags out the window and get glad. Who knows what would have happened if we went down that dark ass tunnel with only the Glock against a whole spirit mind you, that we don’t even know if she’s still vengeful or not.”

“I mean you make valid arguments…and I don’t even know if the house is still standing. The last update online was from 2021 so I guess I can’t be too pressed about it.” Khadijah explains as she starts to search through her bag, “but you can’t say I was indecisive this time, yet you locked me in here like I’m a child.”

Rio deeply exhales, rubbing at his face in slight aggravation, “yeah we gotta get back to Detroit and quick. I think you need to go back to work and continue spreading peaceful energy at that non-profit instead whatever this is.”

“What?” Khadijah sucked her teeth, “Trying to be on theme?”

“We could easily rent a movie at the spot and call it a day.”

“I wanna be one with nature!”

“As soon as we get far away from Blanche’s murder site, I’ll take the locks off so you can touch some grass.”

“Ohhhh, I cannot stand you!” Khadijah scowled followed by some laughter before ghosting her fingers over the window button, “is this going to work for me or am I still being held hostage?”

Rio just hums to himself, glancing in the rear view spotting a blur of white in the distance along with something that wasn’t tumbleweed rolling right by their feet.

Khadijah doesn’t notice as she cracks the window to toss a pink ribbon and a teabag out on the dirt road.

And when she looks in the rearview, she doesn’t see anything unusual or creepy. So she rolls her window back up and presses her elbow into the arm of the door, resting her cheek along her fingers, watching the night scenery whip by her highlighter eyes.

Soon Rio’s hand reaches for the Glock to rest in the cup holders before sneaking his hand over to bring Khadijah’s hand up to his lips. He knew she was a little sour with him over this and probably a bunch of other built up issues but Khadijah always tried to make the best of it.

Rio was trying to get better at validating her feelings but this shit right here was not it and Khadijah knew that inside. Which is why he had a more safer route up his sleeve to spend the day with Khadijah tomorrow since celebrating Halloween was apparently too american for the French. So he did the best that he could choosing a theme park that would be “on theme” for Khadijah’s spooky cravings.

That would be his gift to her and routine of keeping her best interest at heart, even if she didn’t fully want to see it that way sometimes…

Ah, she’ll be aight.

𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆 𒅒𒈔𒅒𒇫𒄆 𒅒𒈔

Continue along with my October anthology prompts here.

#Spotify #Rio good girls #rio x black!reader #rio x reader #october prompts #queued #spooky prompts #good girls nbc #Rio x oc #manny montana

186 notes · View notes

grimalkinmessor · 7 months

Note

Aideku with blood (smut) 🙏❤️

Sorry this took so long, smut is hard 🥲How about a vamp AU? :3 Warnings in the tags ✨

Aideku/Smut/Blood

———

Izuku is nervous.

"Don't be such a pussy, Deku," Tsubasa jeers, shoving him forward. The mausoleum looms in front of them, haloed by the setting sun. "It's one night."

"Yeah, you can handle one night in an empty building, can't you?" Neiru laughs. "Or...mostly empty, anyway. Aside from a few corpses."

Izuku swallows. "I-I can do it! I just—"

"Good," Neiru interrupts, stepping up to open the big stone door. It opens with a grating moan, a vast expanse of black yawning beyond it. Neiru gives a mocking bow. "In you go then!"

Nails biting into his palms, Izuku sets his jaw. "...I do this, and you'll give me my picture back?"

Tsubasa throws an arm around Izuku's shoulders, leaning in close and making his skin crawl. "Aw c'mon, Deku, we're friends, right?"

They haven't been friends in years.

"It's just a little game. The picture's just insurance that you won't chicken out. We'll give it back if you make it the whole night without bailing."

Izuku doesn't believe him. But what choice does he have? If he refuses, he doubts they'll hand it over—it's more likely that they'll rip it up right in front of him. Besides, Izuku is less concerned about spending the night in a mausoleum than he is Tsubasa and Neiru letting him out in the morning.

But even if they don't, Izuku is crafty. He'll figure it out.

Tightening his hold on his backpack, Izuku strides forward into the tomb.

"Finally! Thought we'd have to throw you in," Tsubasa complains, and Neiru snickers as he begins to push the door shut.

"Have fun, Deku!"

Before Izuku can even reply, the door thuds shut, and the bar scrapes back into place over it from the outside. Izuku waits a moment before fumbling for his phone, turning on the flashlight to get a good look around. It's not that big of a space really, but it's full of cobwebs and coated in a thick layer of dust. It's clear that these ancestors haven't been visited in a very long time. There's about six plaques on either wall, some of them so old that the kanji has worn down so much he can't make out the names. They're so old that Izuku wouldn't be surprised if there were actual bodies behind those plaques rather than just urns full of ash.

And speaking of bodies—the biggest thing in the room is the long stone slab directly opposite the door. It has no plaque on it, but the seam between the heavy stone lid tells Izuku that it's likely a coffin, which means that he really is locked in here with a corpse.

Izuku gulps. It's fine. It's fine. He can handle this. There's nothing to be afraid of.

Shaking his head, Izuku finds a fairly clean spot in the middle of the room and sits down, shrugging off his backpack to rifle through it. First things first; he pulls out his actual flashlight, shutting his phone off to preserve the battery. He clicks his flashlight on and sets it on the floor like a tiny lamp, before tugging out one of his textbooks. Might as well get some work done while he's stuck here.

He's almost out of high school now, looking into nearby colleges so he can stay close to his mother—which makes it all the more pathetic that he's still getting pushed around by people like Tsubasa and Neiru. Granted, it's not as bad as it used to be, but it's still irritating.

Izuku tries to ignore his surroundings as he works his way through the next chapter, gnawing on his pen and occasionally jotting down notes in the margins. This works for a while; he manages to make his way through two whole chapters without much trouble. He loses track of time a bit, until—

—something skitters across his foot.

Izuku shrieks, throwing himself back on instinct, leg flailing as he tries to stand only to end up toppling harshly against the casket behind him. Yelping, Izuku crashes back to the ground, clutching his shoulder with a wince. It throbs when he touches it, and he hisses quietly. That's going to bruise.

Grabbing blindly for his flashlight, Izuku staggers back to his feet and looks around for whatever just tried to climb his pants leg. He sees a spider the size of his hand sprint into a crack in the wall, and Izuku shudders, making a soft 'blegh' sound.

Swinging the light around slowly, Izuku freezes when he realizes that his flailing has pushed the lid of the stone casket aside. "Sh-shit," Izuku whispers, anxiety spiking. He sets the flashlight down again, face up, the light dispersing throughout the tomb enough to give the place a dim glow. "Shit, shit, shit—"

Hands shaking, Izuku approaches the cracked casket and tentatively peers inside. He expects to see some withered husk of a thing, or maybe nothing but bones and dust given how old this tomb seems—he's very much not expecting what looks like the perfectly preserved corpse of a man who couldn't have died more than a year ago.

Izuku blinks, squinting. The flashlight glow is dim, but from what he can see it's a man with long, dark hair and a riot of stubble. The white and black yukata he's wearing is shockingly pristine, pale hands folded calmly over his stomach. There are no signs of decay at all, not beyond the ashen white of the corpse's skin. Unable to help himself, curiosity ad incredulity flaring, Izuku reaches forward and touches the man's cheek. The flesh is stone cold—not quite icy, but certainly not full of warmth. There's a bit of give there too, the flesh porcelain but still somehow soft.

Brow furrowing, Izuku slides his hand down to press two fingers to the corpse's white neck. He's no sure whether he's surprised or relieved to find no pulse.

Izuku barely has time to register this however, because mere seconds later a hand snaps out and fists in his uniform jacket, yanking him down and in to the coffin. Izuku yelps, panic spiking, as he crashes onto the cool body settled in the slab, mouth opening to scream as the stone lid of the casket slams back into place.

But no sound escapes his mouth, because in the sudden darkness he feels teeth slice into his throat—before pleasure overtakes him.

Izuku gapes at nothing as a solid arm latches around his waist, tight enough to bruise and yet somehow still seeming absentminded. The subtle rasp of stubble rubs against his neck, and Izuku smells the faint scent of blood as lips move and hum quietly against his pulse. The electrifying feeling of heat spiders out from the point of contact, spreading through Izuku's body and pooling in his gut. Izuku's eyes flutter, a weak noise escaping his mouth as his hands flex and paw at the chest of the-the thing beneath him. He's not sure whether he means to push it away, or draw it closer.

Izuku feels his blood spilling slowly down his neck, thick and hot, and the pieces slot together in his bewildered, fuzzy mind.

Vampire.

He is locked in a tomb—a coffin—with a monster of legends. It's feeding off of him, stealing his blood, likely killing him...

But Izuku can barely bring himself to care.

A ragged groan scrapes out of his throat as the vampire sucks out his lifeblood, ecstasy filling him in its place. He feels his cock stiffen, pressing tight against the seam of his pants as Izuku's eyes roll back in delirious elan. Through the haze, his ever analytical mind notes that the man's hands are skating up and down his sides, one fisting loosely in his hair to pin his head at a better angle. The chill of the corpse's skin is slowly being replaced by warmth, siphoning off Izuku's body heat as well as his blood.

Izuku gasps as a leg juts up beneath him, a muscled thigh slipping in between his legs and pressing against his erection. The pressure makes him tremble, little hiccups of sound lilting out of his mouth as he instinctively rocks his hips down in helpless little jerks, each movement giving him another jolt of pleasure.

A tongue swipes over his bloodied neck, the white-hot bliss of those teeth leaving him for a moment as the monster beneath him cleans him up. Izuku whines at the loss, a quiet desperation striking through him.

'No, no, come back, I'm almost...'

He moans shakily as he feels those fangs pierce the other side of his neck, drawing out his blood and sending him high once more.

"A virgin...?" a low voice purrs, sleepy and bemused and...in his head?

The hands on him tighten, and Izuku whimpers as it sends another spike of arousal through him. He has the vague sense of shame, of embarrassment, at the way he's humping the man's leg, rubbing the tent in his old jeans against the silky white fabric of the man's yukata—but it's a faint sensation. His anxiety is drowned out by the sheer amount of ecstasy coursing through him. Izuku feels it building in his stomach, coiling in his gut as his toes curl and his thighs clamp tight around the muscled thigh beneath him.

He's close, he so close, he—

Red glow fills the space, casting the figure beneath him in a crimson haze. His eyes are a brilliant, luminous scarlet, and the light of them makes the blood painting his mouth look black.

"Your lust..." the man rasps, hands skating up and down to fasten around Izuku's hips. His voice is low and wet, and Izuku can smell his own blood on his breath. "I can taste it."

Then the monster yanks Izuku's hips down, forcing him to grind up against the man's stomach. Izuku cries out, sobbing as the force, the crush, the smell sends him toppling over the edge of orgasm. He cums so hard his vision goes white, mouth open in a soundless wail as wave after wave of pleasure crests over him, shocking up his spine and curling in his scalp. He forgets to breathe for several precious moments, knocked breathless by it.

Vaguely, he feels the man's mouth on him again, trailing his tongue against the newest wound. Izuku's eyes flutter, and he collapses fully on top of him, lost in the afterglow. He's not sure whether the dizziness he feels is because of his orgasm or the blood loss, and he's not sure he particularly cares either. His limbs feel like jello.

"Mm, you're type O," that low voice muses, a hand trailing up and down Izuku's spine. "I thought it was merely that I hadn't fed in so long, but it's no wonder. Best way I've woken up in a long time." The hand pauses, and the red glow now saturating the inside of the coffin flickers. "Mind telling me what year it is?"

"It's..." Izuku begins, the question booting his brain back into gear. His thoughts begin to race as he blinks rapidly to clear his head, a myriad of questions and emotions and reactions flashing across his mind in quick succession. "I-It's 2237."

"A little over four hundred years this time," the man murmurs, brow furrowing in contemplation. "Odd. Someone usually wakes me up every turn of the century."

"U-Um, sir," Izuku tries after a moment, wriggling in mortification when he feels the mess he's made in his pants. "Can you, um, let me out now? If y-you're not going to finish me off?"

'Why would you ask that, WHY would you—'

"I would," the monster begins absently, licking a stray trail of Izuku's blood from the corner of his lips. He's looking at the faintest trickle of light that can be seen from the seam of the stone lid. "But it seems like it's still daylight out. The mausoleum must've collapsed..."

Izuku attempts to push himself up, but the idle hand on his back isn't as idle as he thought. Vampire strength, he realizes quickly. Biting his lip, he tries not to think of the bruises already blossoming on his hip. "No, that's just my flashlight! It's actually very late, so it's safe for you to let me out, I promise!"

Scarlet eyes narrow at him, grip tightening, and Izuku squeaks like a dog toy when those fangs scrape against his neck again. "You're not lying to me, are you? Little lust thrall?"

Izuku's face flushes brightly, and the man noses his cheek almost instinctively, as if following the blood flow. "I-I'm not! I'm not lying, I swear! Please, just—I don't want to die," he finishes weakly, hands fisting tightly in cloth pooling by the monster's sides.

The man's eyes soften slightly, and he sighs. The tang of warm iron feathers against Izuku's face. Reaching behind them both, the man swipes the lid to the side with one hand, the rough scrape of stone on stone making Izuku wince. Before Izuku can even move, he finds himself being hauled up and set outside the coffin on his feet. He staggers immediately, knees still weak, and nearly falls.

A calloused hand pushes against his back, keeping him upright. Izuku swallows and blinks away the spots crowding his vision, stumbling away to pick up his flashlight.

He turns again, cringing at the wet feeling between his legs. The man is sitting up in his box, peering at him curiously. Unable to help himself, Izuku tentatively asks, "So... you're n-not going to eat me?"

Tipping his head, the man gives him a hooded smile, dark hair shadowing his face as he answers, "Not anymore than I already have."

Izuku's face feels so hot he'd work well as a heat lamp.

The man steps smoothly out of his tomb and, to Izuku's surprise, folds into a bow. "Aizawa Shouta."

More habitually than anything, Izuku bows back. "Midoriya Izuku. It's, uh, nice to meet you?"

Aizawa smirks at him, the tips of his fangs flashing. "Well, Midoriya," he says, practically purring out the name. Izuku's breath catches. "Thank you for the meal. I hope you'll allow me the chance to taste you again. In a place where I can properly see you, this time."

With that, Aizawa rises from his bow and swirls into shadow, racing out of the doors of the mausoleum and leaving them banging open behind him. Moonlight spills into the tomb, and Izuku watches Aizawa's shadows zip through the cemetery and out into the night.

He has a feeling that he's just got himself into far more trouble than he knows.

#spooky prompts #my writing #aideku #smut #bnha #boku no hero academia #vampires #also i embellished this a little because japanese coffins are THICK aint no way one person is getting the lid off one of those things #tw dubcon #tw -18 #<- new tag bc tumblr keeps censoring the ones with the actual words in them #yes i am still pissed about that #tumblr is turning into a catholic church #anyway! sorry this took so long! dicks are hard :'D #asks #acerbicangryeel #long post #grim scribbles

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lowat-golden-tower · 7 months

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Didn't see any Writober prompts lists up in the tag yet so I figured I'd just whip one up myself so people can get to cracking and prepare!

Feel free to tackle and use these however you wish. If you do use it, please tag me! I want to see what everyone writes! :D Be it fandom-related or OC stuff.

Also please reblog and share this around so your followers can see! Spread the word! Spoopy month isn't just for art prompts! >:3 This one is alllll ours.

Though as a side note if you wish to utilize this as an art prompts list, have at it! :3c Just be sure to tag me still! I'm a slut for art.

#Writober #writober 2023 #writeober #halloween #scary prompts #prompts #spooky prompts #inktober #october prompts #writeblr #writers of tumblr

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thepenultimateword · 7 months

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Spooktober Prompt #2

It’s midnight when I hear the jack-o-lanterns chatter. The porch light illuminates as far as the edge of the yard, but I try not to look too closely at the street as I haul them out of the icy wind and into the warm house. As much as I pretend, I know they don’t shiver because of the cold but because of what they saw.

#prompt #creative writing #writing prompt #short prompt #writblr #writeblr #writing community #writers of tumblr #spooky prompts #31 days of spooktober #31 days of halloween #spooktober #Spooktober prompts #pumpkin #jack o lantern

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lilac-hecox · 6 months

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A couple ideas to choose from if any inspire you! All shourtney bc they own me,

-first Halloween with a baby

-first halloween together in a house with trick or treaters

-a ‘just friends’ scary movie marathon turned into not to platonic ‘we’re scared that’s why we’re cuddling’ vibes

Happy almost Halloween!! 🎃

Shayne/Courtney - Shourtney

“Did you pick up more candy today?” Courtney asks, half distracted by the little girl in her arms.

“Yeah, I grabbed a couple of bags since we don’t really know how many trick-or-treaters are going to come by,” Shayne says as he dumps a bag of miniature candy bars into the colorful bowl decorated with skeletons and bats.

Cheyenne tries to grab at Courtney’s hair and the woman ducks away, giggling.

“I can’t wait until you’re out of this grabbing phase,” she says.

“Yeah,” Shayne says with a laugh as he crosses the living room and leans over the back of the couch and makes a stupid face at their daughter, “You’re going to make us bald by the time you’re one, Chey.”

She giggles of course, and then her hands try to grab at him. Courtney turns her head and watches him make more stupid faces, her heart so fond for Shayne and the way he is when he’s with their daughter.

“Da!” Cheyenne squeals.

“Okay, that means tag, you’re it,” Courtney says as she hefts up their adorable, chubby thighed, six-month-old to hand her off to Shayne.

He scoops her up easily and grabs her hand, pretends to eat it while Cheyenne breaks into giggles.

Courtney watches them for a moment before she moves around the back of the couch to press a kiss to Cheyenne’s forehead and then Shayne’s lips.

“I’m going to go get ready before my mom gets here,” Courtney says, “then you can get ready while I get Chey ready.”

Shayne barely hears her because he’s having too much fun playing with their daughter. When he realizes, she was talking to him he looks over sheepishly.

“I did hear you, Court.”

Courtney smiles and slips away to change into her outfit. This is Cheyenne’s first Halloween and Courtney is excited, probably more than she should be, because Cheyenne really doesn’t understand what Halloween is, she more prefers to look at the lights and decorations, but Courtney is excited to do a family outfit and take her to a few houses while her mom passes out candy at their place until they get back.

Courtney is done putting on her costume and then slips back out to the living room. As soon as Shayne sees her, he breaks into giggles.

“Oh my God. Okay, I’m glad I lost rock, paper, scissors, you were right. It fits you perfectly.”

She gives him a smug look and waggles an eyebrow at him.

“Go get changed,” she says gently.

Shayne moves past her, squeezing her waist as he goes to their bedroom to change. Courtney takes Cheyenne into her nursery, decorated as bright and colorful as their child’s personality.

Shortly the family reconvenes in the living room and Courtney grins. They don’t post Cheyenne often on social media, hell, it took them years to openly admit they were together, married, and then pregnant with their first child. This is Chey’s first Halloween and Courtney feels their family costume is too good to not share.

The two of them hold Cheyenne as they crowd together, she smiles up at her parents as Courtney and Shayne smile in the mirror as Courtney snaps a picture of the three of them. Cheyenne dressed as Barbie, Courtney as Ken, and Shayne as Alan.

“Alright, this is sickeningly cute,” Shayne says, taking their daughter so Courtney can post the picture on social media.

As Courtney is posting they hear a knock on the door and Shayne goes to answer it, peeking through the peephole. He looks at Cheyenne. “Grandma is here!”

Courtney posts the picture and then she watches as her mom hugs Shayne and then squeals over Cheyenne’s costume, stealing her from Shayne’s arms. Courtney goes to them, sliding her arm around Shayne’s waist, feeling content and full of joy.

#shourtney #shartney #smoshships #polysmosh #kid fic #fluff #spooky prompts #shourtney family au #my fic #my writing #my fics #i'm a sucker for kid fic

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writerbeemedina · 6 months

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Writing Prompt #54

"What does it feel like to die?" the child asked.

"I can show you, if you'd like," said ghost child.

#writing prompt wednesday #writing prompts #writing ideas #horror prompts #spooky prompts #ghostcore #ghost prompt #dialogue prompts #scary prompts #scary stories #horror quotes #horror dialogue

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watercolorfreckles · 2 years

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Writober Prompts 2022

Hi! I was looking for Writober prompts to cherrypick from this year (im not capable of writing something every day lol but want to write something spooky this year!) and i couldnt really find anything. So i made one!

Anyone is free to use this! Please tag me if you do, so that I can see what you make!! You can use this as a one-per-day thing (now that its almost oct 6th, sorryyy) or just pick the ones you like.

I'd love to use it as an ask game! So send in a number to my inbox, and if I get an idea for it, I'll write it!

Have fun getting spoopy.

General Taglist: @pinned-to-the-wahl , @valiantlytransparentwhispers , @distance-does-not-matter , @redbircl , @lilaccatholic , @crazytwentythrees , @thelazywitchphotographer , @chibicelloking , @lolafaiy , @thinkwrite5 , @putridghost , @tobeornottobeateacher , @sunflower1000 , @bouncyartist , @feyriddle , @yet-another-heathen , @silverwhisperer1 , @distractedlydistracted , @pensivespacepirate , @appleejuicee , @deflated-bouncingball @maybe-a-cat42 , @m0chik0furan , @mercurymomentum , @fairysprinkless , @vuvulia , @amongtheonedaisy , @rose-pinkie , @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room , @scorpio-smiles , @inkygemuwu , @wolfeyedwitch , @thewhumpmeisterx3000 , @ikiiryo , @moonquires , @lem-hhn , @fanastywhump , @smallangryfish , @ladybookworm , @freefallingup13 , @acaiaforrest , @a-blue-comedy , @puppyaddict , @a-person-who-likes-musicals , @talkingsperm , @qualitychaoslover , @deckofaces ,@7eselt

#Writober #writober 2022 #writetober #halloween #scary prompts #prompts #spooky prompts #inktober #october prompts #vampire #siren #horror #horror prompts #writeblr #hero x villain #heroes and villains #writers of tumblr

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droptheprompt · 2 years

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Dialogue Prompts #1

🎃 “Leave some candy for the kids!”

🎃 “Did you actually drag a ghost into our house?!”

🎃 “Don’t scare me like this!”

🎃 “Are you sure this is the right place?”

🎃 “What exactly are we doing at a graveyard during Halloween?”

🎃 “They say 3 AM is a witching hour. Wanna test that out?”

🎃 “I bet I can make scarier pumpkin than you.”

#otp #otp prompts #imagine your otp #imagine your ship #otp ideas #writing #fanfic ideas #otp dialogue #dialogue prompt #halloween prompts #dialogue inspiration #halloween writing prompts #platonic or romantic #spooky prompts #horror prompt #fluff prompts #domestic prompts #writing prompts #droptheprompt

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depressed-werewolf · 2 years

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“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

The demon sighed. “I hate you so much.”

#human x monster #monster x human #spooky #writing #writeblr #writing prompt #prompt #dialogue prompt #spooky prompts #halloween #spooky season #spoopy season #romance #romance prompts #mediocre writing prompts #a mediocre writing blog

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almost-a-class-act · 4 months

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One spooky prompt for every day in October:

1. Character A tries to convince Character B that it's too early to put the Halloween decorations up OR get the house ready for winter.

2. A shortcut through the cemetery at night

3. Character A turns up at a support group for people who claim to have been abducted by aliens

4. Character A realizes that dead doesn't mean gone, officially.

5. Character A meets Character B in a pumpkin patch and they both want the same one.

6. Invited to a weekend at a cabin in the woods OR the car breaks down on a dark country road

7. Someone from Character A's past has just turned up on their doorstep. "The curse. It's real."

8. Character A has strong feelings about horror movies.

9. Character A has just moved in and it's Character B's turn to tell the new neighbour the neighbourhood's dark secret…

10. Vampires (that's it, that's the prompt)

11. Character A confesses a fear (silly or serious) to Character B

12. A bump in the night

13. It's Friday the 13th, and things just keep going wrong for Character A

14. BUFFY FREE SPACE. If it happened in an episode of Buffy, it's fair game. Did everyone turn into their Halloween costume? Maybe someone was resurrected and is none too pleased about it? Has Character A just found out that Character B is the Slayer?

15. Exploring an abandoned building

16. "I think our... kitchen is haunted?"

17. Too many mini KitKats or spiked ciders at the Halloween party

18. Ghost/demon hunters (aka the Supernatural AU)

19. Character A goes to a haunted house and ends up lumped into a group with Character B due to fifth wheeling/friends bailing.

20. Character A, the doomsday prepper, gets their "I told you so" moment when the neighbours start eating each other.

21. Couples costumes!

22. Someone has to say the dreaded horror movie words: "Let's split up."

23. Character A tries to be brave for Character B. Character B sees right through it.

24. Character A turns up wearing a Halloween costume that Character B is extremely into, OR very scared of.

25 "I told you that you shouldn't have gone to that medium!"

26. Someone dropped the ball on buying Halloween candy and now they have to get creative.

27. Character A cuts themselves pumpkin carving or pie making; Character B comes to the rescue.

28. "Did you hear that?" "Hear what?"

29. Character A is taking a kid (theirs or someone else's) trick-or-treating and rings Character B's doorbell because the kid was too scared to approach the house on their own, OR because the kid in their charge smashed Character B's jack-o'-lantern.

30. Séance/Ouija board

31. Character A really wanted to get the most out of this supposedly haunted hotel by booking the most haunted room on Halloween night (bonus points if this is also the Doll Room).

#remember when I said I would post this list at the top of november #anyway #war is helloween #writing prompts #halloween prompts #spooky prompts

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junosartsthetic · 2 years

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31 Halloween Questions

What’s your favorite Halloween song?

Do you like Halloween?

Are you a fan of horror movies?

Are you scared easily?

What’s your favorite candy?

Are you dressing up this year?

Have you ever carved a pumpkin?

What’s your favorite horror movie?

Vampires or werewolves?

Do you have a favorite monster?

Have you ever been to a Halloween party?

What’s your spookiest experience?

Do you believe in ghosts?

Do you still go trick-or-treating/when did you stop going?

What’s your ideal Halloween?

Pumpkin pie or apple pie?

Do you know any ghost stories?

Are there any urban legends where you live?

Do you like pumpkin-flavored things?

Do you like haunted houses?

What’s your best Halloween memory?

Do you think people should have Halloween off from work/school?

Are you superstitious?

Do you have any -phobias?

What’s your ideal fall outfit?

Do you think Halloween is overrated or underrated?

Is there anywhere you’ve been too scared to go?

If you could be any scary creature, what would it be?

Do you decorate for Halloween?

Have you ever made a DIY costume?

Would you rather run into a snake or a spider?

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cloveroctobers · 2 years

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Willie Jack | October Prompts 🕷

A/N: this my girl! This my favorite character! WLW + reader is always of color & in this case Afro-indigenous.

Prompt: 1. “I’m not helping you carve your pumpkin.” + 13. “Can you stop breathing down my neck?” — “Dude, I’m over here.”

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓ ┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓ ┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓

Letting out a yawn, you moved your cheek from the palm of your hand as you sat at your girlfriend’s dinner table. It was going on 8pm and honestly you were ready to go home but didn’t exactly have the energy to do that just yet.

Also you had plans with your girl, yet she got caught up with the dogs and you got off work at six; you were more than willing to reschedule as the sun disappeared behind the clouds. However when you had plans to spend time together, Willie Jack took that seriously and always wanted you around.

She had to do a little bribing, having Elora drop her off at your place after their hang out sesh just to walk back to her’s (honestly…she carried you on her back to the next street over) so she could make you some frybread with the leftover Succotash her mom had in the fridge.

“Hey, you sleeping over there on me?” Willie Jack called out to you from behind, standing in front of the stove.

Widening your eyes, you sat up straight, chin now pressed into your shoulder as you replied, “who me? Nooo. I’m just wondering how much longer I gotta stare at this pumpkin to magically make it carved already.”

“With your eyes closed?”

“And how do you know my eyes are closed if my back is to you, Mena J?” You questioned, using your own spin on the girl’s name who didn’t mind the nickname—only if it came from you.

Willie Jack switched off the stove with a twist of her lips, “don’t you think I know you by now? We’ve only been together for like half a year or something, babe? The only time you sit in that seat is when I’m in the kitchen and you try and hide that you’re gonna take a nap while I’m over here doing shit like a wife.”

“Aren’t you?” You smiled as the girl padded over to you, placing the glass plate full of bread on the center of the table.

Willie Jack then pulled the chair out to plop down on your right, “Damn straight.”

You tilted your head as a, ‘alright then,’ response, feeling the true weight of your two curly buns sitting on both sides of your head while you did so. Exhaling you reached forward over your pumpkin, plucking a piece of bread off the paper towel, which drained the grease for you, and placed it next to the veggies on your plate. Using a fork you scrapped the colorful vegetables into the frybread and began folding it as Willie peeked over at you, sipping from her raspberry colored cup.

Raising your brows at her, you briefly turned your attention back to your dinner, taking a bite as Willie spun the pumpkin to her attention, eyeing the outline of the design you chose.

“A ghost? You sure didn’t pick anything simple.”

“When have I ever?”

Willie Jack pushed out her lips with a nod of her head in agreement. She flicked at your pumpkin with a decision, “I’m not helping you carve your pumpkin.”

A frown settled in between your brows as you questioned, “and why not?”

This didn’t make sense to you. Willie Jack was the one who wanted to do all this fall inspired couple shit with you and all of a sudden she didn’t want to help you out?

“I thought we were gonna paint them not carve them? You know how tough this skin is? I’m not fucking up my fingers because of this orange shit. I rather do that in the ring you know?” Willie Jack responded, sending in a few jabs into the air.

You huffed, “that’s why we use this baby right here and not the sorry excuse for a knife that they give you in those stupid kits they sell at the store elora works at.” You waved the butcher knife in the air as Willie Jack watched you spin the item around with ease.

Willie Jack reached over, grasping your wrist to take the knife from you, “what am I, fucken Michael myers? I like hitting people not stabbing them.”

“Not you trying to switch up on me when this was your idea.” You rolled your eyes, “I was down for this instead of the usual smashing a few pumpkins.”

Willie Jack gave you a look, “who says we can’t do everything but that? October is just starting, baby!”

“You just did.” You pointed as Willie got to her feet to enter her living room and turn on the tv to play some music.

Once Willie Jack sat back down next to you, she reached over to playfully pull down on your ear, making you slap her hand away, “Aw don’t be like that. I was just fucken around since you decided to snooze on me for like seven seconds. You know I got you always, right?”

Shaking your head you sat back against the chair, bringing your plate up to take another bite. After chewing for awhile you decided, “Then I’m not helping you paint your pumpkin.”

“That’s whack. You know I failed art class.”

Which wasn’t a hundred percent true. You met Willie jack in jewelry class sophomore year, seated at the same table but over as you and one of your friends that she didn’t particularly like kept to your side. Willie Jack didn’t have any issue with the saw, screwing the wire into the handle and going away at the metal with no issue. She had one of the best works in the class and she knew it, even went around helping other students when she finished her work, much to the teachers passionate joy.

That’s eventually how the both of you got to talking, despite your bestie (at the time) mumbling shit about this underneath her breath. Until this day you still weren’t sure what the exact beef was between your old friend and your current girlfriend. The both of you knew she needed help too but would rather get help from the teacher than Willie Jack. Nonetheless that friend ended up not being in your life anymore since she told others that it had to do with you picking sides with the enemy. However you’d say it had to do with her not accepting that you can be friends with anyone you wanted and she retaliated by making up untrue rumors and dating your idiot ex who was on the football team.

“Well that’s a lie,” you started and stopped as you swallowed your food, “you seemed to do well in jewelry class.”

The brown haired girl brushed off her shoulders with a grin, “yeah but I’m no auntie b tho!”

“Fine, I’ll give you that.”

The two of you smiled at each other for a moment, enjoying each other’s company, despite you being exhausted and dreading going to school on Monday.

“Hurry up then, wife.” Willie Jack knocked on the table, “we got work to do! And I’m playing that indie boyband you like while we work.”

“Is this your way of telling me you want to slow dance in the living room with me?”

“I’ll save that for our wedding day.” Willie winked, taking her own piece of bread to bite into before she tossed the rest onto your plate.

Scoffing, you crossed one leg over the other as you continued eating.

After some time the both of you were seated in the living room, newspaper resting on the coffee table as Willie went to work on your pumpkin and you did the same for her. The Spotify playlist was on shuffle, playing a mixture of both of your music tastes making the both of you feel further at ease. You basically sat on top of each other, one leg tossed over her’s as she crouched forward carving your pumpkin while you lounged backwards.

Willie Jack rapped the lyrics while you hummed to them, pumpkin on your belly as you made small strokes of the thin brush against the orange pumpkin.

“Hold on, I’ll be right back. It’s probably my dad.” Willie said abruptly, making you snap out of your zone to realize that the telephone was ringing.

She carefully lifted up your leggings covered thigh, then shimmied by you instead of going around the coffee table to head into the hall. Sighing you stretched out your long legs, continuing on Willie Jack’s piece.

Before you could zone off some more, vibing out to the music, Kendrick Lamar’s voice suddenly went quiet making you huff in annoyance. Was Spotify having a moment again? Your eyes flicked to the television just in time to see the tv shut off with a flash of white to signal it’s exit. Not too long after, all the dim lights in Willie Jack’s house also erupted your vision in complete darkness.

“The fuck!?” You heard Willie Jack yell in the background.

Carefully leaning upwards, you used one of your hands to feel for a free spot on the table to place the wet pumpkin down. Next you got to your feet as you listened to the patter of Willie Jack’s feet.

“Yo, what happened?” Willie asked you from somewhere on your right.

Slowly you moved sideways from in between the couch and table, shrugging before realizing that your girlfriend most likely couldn’t see this, “I don’t know. I was just sitting here and the tv cut off right before everything else went off? Where’s your parents?”

“Dad said they’d be out a little longer, stopped at the general store to let me know there’s something going on downtown. He didn’t get to tell me exactly what before we lost power.” Willie Jack answered as you crept to the door.

Grabbing at the curtain that covered the windows by the door, you gently moved it to the side to peek outdoors. There wasn’t any street lights or lights illuminating from other houses showing outside either, which means this was possibly a blackout. Your hands suddenly crept over to the doorknob, fingertips reading for the knob to make sure it was locked.

It wasn’t.

Which instantly made you silently curse at your girlfriend in your head. You didn’t play that shit, especially when you all didn’t live far from a sundown town that was only about four miles out from the reservation. Don’t get it wrong, you loved your girlfriend but she could be so careless sometimes.

“Can you stop breathing down my neck?” You hissed, back to peeking out through the glass in search of any movement out there.

Usually most people went outside, ready to throw a party when things like this went down or talk to their neighbors with some source of light to guide the way. It felt strange to you to not see a single person doing just that.

It wasn’t the norm.

Your hand went to the back of your neck, feeling warm air brush against your skin.

“Bro…I’m over here.” Willie Jack told you, making you whip around as the hair on your forearms underneath your sweater began to rise.

“the fuck was that?”

“What?” Willie Jack pressed, trying to make her way over to you.

Holding out your hands you whisper-yelled, “stop! Stay on your side.”

“No. I wanna be next to you.”

“Something just breathed on the back of my neck, Mena J! And you said it wasn’t you.”

Willie Jack hesitated, “Yeah I did say that…maybe it’s just the ancestors and nothing you’re thinking about.”

“Really? ‘Cause I’m thinking it was a damn demon and I’ve never felt that energy before here.” The stress was rising in your voice, “it’s pretty convenient that it wants to come out and play while the town is experiencing a blackout.”

Willie Jack said, “don’t say shit like that to me when I gotta live here and you won’t let me come to you.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you began tiptoeing around, hands outwards as you felt the air, which definitely felt hot in a specific area but you tried not to think about it too much. Your number one goal was to be beside your girl and away from whatever the hell that was back there.

Fumbling hands reached out for the girl, who quickly yanked you to her frame by the small of your back. Your cheeks were pressed against each other as you embraced for a moment.

“Let’s lock ourselves away in my room.” Willie Jack suggested, quickly slipping a hand around your waist and guiding you down the hall to her bedroom.

With you entering first, Willie Jack locked the door behind her before telling you, “I’ve got some cedar and a lighter in one of my drawers.”

You didn’t take long to head over to the said drawer, hands out to lead the way and hoping there was nothing tossed around on the floor for you to break your neck on. With the cedar smudging, the strong smell circulated the air as Willie Jack eventually went towards her closet to pull her storage rack full of her boxing equipment; which included her weights to press up against her door.

Soon she found you back by her bed, away from her bedroom door and sat right beside you. Her hands went to grip the sides of your neck, feeling upwards and gathering that your hair was now down at it curtained around her hands. Next her forehead pressed against yours for a moment, “we’re good in here. Nothing is fucking with us, even if our ancestors aren’t with us right now. We got the cedar and probably a few more hours before daylight.”

At least you weren’t alone and being with Willie Jack, you never had to worry about that.

Soon you found the both of you laying back on her bed, wrapped up in each other. Sleep wasn’t on your mind anymore but the comfort of Willie Jack’s arms wrapped tight around you led you to just that.

“Nobody’s touching you, babe. Not if these hands got anything to say about it, I promise.” Willie Jack muttered against the top of your head before you involuntarily dozed off.

It wasn’t the cawing that woke you up the next morning, or the snoring that escaped from Willie Jack’s wide open mouth. Your eyes peeled open at the sound of something rattling, making your head jerk upwards to focus on the doorknob wiggling. Your eyes then shot to the single window in the room, from what you could tell behind the blinds it was possibly a foggy blue sky outside.

Sitting up, frantically your eyes searched around the various of objects that made up your girlfriend’s bedroom, you were just about to cross over her body when a large kicking sounded at the door.

That’s when Willie Jack shot up, head knocking against yours that made you wince.

“Fuck man,” Willie Jack rubbed against the center of her forehead, “what you doing? Trying to get freaky after being terrified?”

Scowling you wanted to pull on her messed up braid but thought against it as the stinging sensation against your temple told you otherwise.

The kicking continued at the door, making Willie Jack latch onto your hips to untangle you from her. She was ready for war as she jumped down from her bed, picking up a dumbbell before she halted at the knob of the door.

Picking up the salt lamp in her window sill you stood up on her bed, arm cocked back as Willie Jack took one last look at you with a dip of her head. Silently counting, she pressed out the lock to her door and pulled the door back with a scream.

“Fuck outta my house, bitch!” Willie yelled, just about to launch the dumbbell at the entity.

“Hey, hey! It’s me you shit ass!”

The voice of a very alarmed Bear screamed, hands held out and face turned away from the incoming abuse from his friend.

“Bear?” Willie Jack had her eyes in slits, “We almost clocked your ass, bro! What’re you doing here?!”

“Your mom told me to wake you guys up before she went to work. Said the blackout held her and your dad up for hours, they were in and out. Didn’t have the time to scold you two from smashing with the door closed.” Bear was now smirking, as he peeked into the room as you now plopped down onto the bed, pinching in between your brows.

Willie Jack went to swing at Bear, smirking to herself as he easily flinched. “Shut up, shit ass. We weren’t doing none of that, not like it’s any of your biz tho.”

“Then…what were you doing?” Bear was confused.

You now stood beside Willie Jack, who glanced at you, “carving and painting pumpkins, you?”

Squeezing by the two friends you didn’t respond to Bear as he asked your retreating frame, “in the dark?”

Willie Jack placed the dumbbell back onto the rack and moved to slip her arm around a still confused Bear as she led the way back down the hall, “did you see or feel anything last night?”

“No, because it was fucking dark.” Bear commented, “what’s up with you two?”

Willie Jack peered over at you now sitting at the table with Elora (who waved at Willie Jack) and Jackie who dipped her head in acknowledgement at Willie, pouring yourself some coffee as you sat with hunched shoulders.

“Morning, Willie Jack.” Cheese greeted from his spot on the couch, “you guys enjoy the blackout?”

“Fuck no.”

“Oh, okay.” Cheese blinked, “there’s something I found when we first entered your house while everyone else made themselves comfortable.”

Willie Jack frowned, “what, bro?”

Cheese held what appeared to be a nose guard up in the air, making a deeper frown appear on Willie Jack’s face.

“And here I thought I was the only one who had a broken nose.” Bear smiled, “somebody messed you up in the ring and you didn’t tell us about it huh?”

“That’ll never happen, shut up.” Willie Jack shoved the long haired boy who didn’t wipe the smile off his face as he stumbled, “…that’s not mine, cheese.”

“Oh…then who’s…”

Willie Jack blew out a breath as she clapped her hands, “everybody, lets leave!”

“Huh? We just got here not long ago.” Elora argued.

“So?! Donuts sound better and I don’t got that shit here, let’s go. Elora you’re driving.”

“Obviously, I’m the only one that can drive, dumbass.” Elora snarked, slowly following as you were the first to leave the house.

Willie Jack began waving everyone outside the house quickly, pulling the door shut behind everyone.

“You sure you guys were okay, last night?” Bear asked as Willie Jack walked beside him into the fall air.

Willie Jack had her eyes set only on you, up ahead as you waited for Elora to unlock the doors. Cheese stood on the side closest to Willie Jack and Bear as he struck up a conversation with you that Willie Jack picked up on.

“By the way, you guys made really cool pumpkins. Did you do that before the town shut down?” Cheese chatted.

That’s when your eyes flicked back to Willie Jack’s in alarm and she went into protect mode. She quickly nudged Bear’s arm to get away from her house as fast as possible, “I’ll let you know later, bro. We just gotta go.”

Bear barely let his words slip through his lips as Willie Jack rushed to your side, hand sliding into yours as your eyes silently shared concerns with each other.

It wasn’t Willie Jack’s breath hovering behind you last night so…who’s was it?

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓ ┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓ ┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓

Continue along with my fall anthology prompts here

#willie jack #reservation dogs #Willie jack x reader #Willie jack x f! reader #paulina alexis #devery jacobs #elora danan #bear smallhill #cheese reservation dogs #reservation dogs hulu #reservation dogs fx #rez dogs #spooky prompts #spooky season #October prompts

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grimalkinmessor · 8 months

Note

afofa+horror+doll please <3

Your warnings are in the tags :)

AFOFA/Horror/Doll

———

Tomura isn't the most careful person in the world. He doesn't look both ways before crossing the street, and he walks around the shady parts of town with both headphones in and blaring. Sue him.

But to be fair, neither of those things are what leads to him being drugged and tied up in some freak's basement.

Tomura blinks his eyes open blearily, wincing when a bright fluorescent light sears right into his corneas. He hisses, shaking his head like a dog, and hears something metal clatter quietly somewhere in front of him. He turns his wrists and feels metal bite into his skin. Whatever's he's sitting on is metal too, cold and oddly shaped.

"Oh? You seem to have a mild natural resistance to sedatives. How unfortunate," a deep, jovial voice muses. It sounds vaguely familiar. "I would've preferred you to be unconscious for this."

A hand—latex-gloved, hell on his skin—skims over Tomura's forehead and pushes his hair back. Tomura jerks his head away, skin crawling, hands flexing. The person in front of him laughs.

Memories comes back to him in flashes. Tomura grits his teeth as he tries to parse through them. A bar, with Spinner. They went to celebrate, to get high and maybe laid if they were lucky. Tomura remembers a drink he didn't order, a sly smile from a well-dressed man in the corner. He remembers feeling flattered, flustered at the bold way the man came up to him and start to chat him up. Complimenting him, tangling gentle, considering fingers in his hair.

Everything after the third drink is blurry.

"Oh well. I suppose I'll just have to be careful. Wouldn't want to ruin the parts."

"What...the fuck," Tomura grits out, cutting his eyes open once again, ignoring the pain it brings to take in his surroundings.

He's cuffed into a steel chair, bolted to a clean concrete floor. Fancy dress shoes lead up pressed slacks to a white doctor's apron. Tomura notes, with a growing numbness, that the apron is stained rusty pink in places. Like whatever sunk into it just couldn't be washed all the way out. Tomura drags his gaze up to see rolled up sleeves, red eyes, curly white hair, and a mild smile.

It's the man he'd spoken to last night (tonight? today? yesterday?). Behind him is a black table covered in wicked looking surgical tools.

And behind that...

Tomura might be sick.

In a softer chair than the one Tomura is currently restrained in, a grisly corpse sits. It's a patchwork quilt of flesh, with several parts missing and more sewn carefully in place, the chest cavity open with a heart being mechanically beaten within. Mismatched hands, empty eye sockets, notched knees and elbows—and a blanket tucked over its lap, like it might get cold.

"You don't know how long I've been looking for the perfect shade," the man before him sighs, plucking up a lock of Tomura's hair and twirling it idly around his gloved fingers. "A bit more wavy than I'd like, but I doubt he'll mind. It's very soft, after all."

"What the fuck," Tomura repeats, his voice a wheeze. It grows in volume as he works himself into a panic, hands jerking in the clasps as he shouts, "What the fuck!"

To Tomura's growing horror, the corpse moves, as if stirred by the sound of his voice. The man glances back at it, expression blackening as he turns back on Tomura. Clicking his tongue, he sweeps up behind Tomura's chair, fiddling with something on the head. A second later, a leather strap is yanked between Tomura's teeth and buckled around his face, effectively gagging him.

"Look what you've done," the man chides irritably. "He's not ready yet, and here you are waking him up before I have him all the way assembled. Do you know how disorienting that is? How painful? And right when I'm about to put in a new part, oh—" He cuts himself off with a hiss, yanking Tomura's head back against the chair and locking another metal cuff around his neck. Tomura thrashes, but it does nothing but bruise him.

Both of them freeze when a low whine escapes the corpse's mouth, agonized. Then, in an anxious flurry, the fucking psychopath abandons Tomura to stride over to the horrible amalgamation in front of him. Gloved hands carefully raise the thing's jaw, a low, despairing moan gusting out of its mouth.

"No," it gurgles out. "Nno, Tak—d-on't..."

"Sshh," the madman soothes, picking up a cloudy glass of water and raising it gently to the thing's lips, urging it to drink. "Hush, Yoichi, hush. Go back to sleep."

The corpse—the monster—the doll, has no strength to protest. It swallows down the cloudy liquid with a whimper, and the man cradles its bared skull to his chest with a soft croon, stroking down the doll's neck as if soothing a frightened bird. Tomura can do nothing but watch as the whimpers trail off to nothing and the thing goes limp once more.

Creation safely asleep, the man whirls on Tomura with a scowl. He plucks up a scalpel from the black table, as well as a few other things before stalking back over to Tomura. "Of course one of the last pieces I need would be difficult," he says scathingly. Tomura struggles anew, screaming behind the leather strap as he tries to wrench his hands out of their restraints. A hand fists in his hair and yanks his head back, one large hand pressed ruthlessly against Tomura's forehead as the man glares down at him from above. "Unruly thing. No anesthesia, if this is how you're going to be."

He raises the scalpel and sets it to Tomura hairline, slicing in without hesitation. Tomura shrieks, muffled, as pain strikes across his brow and blood begins to spill into his eyes. The pain only spreads as the blade cuts across his skull, down his temple, and behind his ear.

Humming, the man above him smiles, as if the sight of blood is calming to him.

"Best pray that your heart gives out soon," he muses conversationally as Tomura's vision blurs, his mind nothing but a mirage of red hot agony. "If you're still alive by the time I'm done, well. Let's just say it won't be pleasant for you."

Tomura isn't religious. He doesn't believe in gods or goddesses, or even the inherent balance of the universe.

But now, he prays to whatever is listening. Prays that this bastard dies. Prays for the pain to stop. Prays that the thing in the corner, whatever it is, never has the chance to wake again.

But nothing answers him.

•°•

Izuku stands before Tomura's apartment, checking his watch. He frowns. Knocks again.

"Tomura-san? It's time for your appointment! You asked me to remind you, remember? You're going to be late!" Izuku calls, bouncing up on his tiptoes to try and peer through the peephole, even though he knows it won't work.

Huffing, Izuku rocks back on his heels and considers going down to the land lord for Tomura's second key. It's not like Tomura to ignore him completely—he didn't even shout at him to fuck off like he usually does. This silence isn't like him at all.

Brow furrowed with concern, Izuku turns to go back down the stairs, intending to get Ujiko-san to open Tomura's door—only to ram right into someone. Izuku yelps, staggering back, and looks up to see a tall, well-dressed man standing before him. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't see you," Izuku sputters, embarrassed. He takes a quick step back, but relaxes when the man laughs.

"No harm done. I just came by to drop off Shimura-kun's jacket." The man holds up an arm, and Izuku jolts when he sees that Tomura's hoodie is folded over it. "He left it at the bar last night. Is he in?"

"Ah—no," Izuku says after a moment, his concern growing. "You said he was at a bar last night? He's not supposed to be drinking..."

The man blinks. "Oh dear, that would explain some things. I suppose I'll leave this at the front desk for him."

"I'll come with you," Izuku blurts, hastily racing after the man as he walks away. "I was going to ask Ujiko-san to bring up his room key..."

"He's a friend of yours?"

"Tomura is...Tomura," Izuku sighs. "But I care about him. I'm really worried."

"I'm sure he'll turn up soon, there's a—" the man cuts off suddenly, and Izuku is startled to find the man staring directly at him when he looks up.

"What?"

His eyes widen, bewildered and a little flustered, when the man steps closer, a hand reaching up to brush careful fingers against Izuku's cheek. A brilliant grin curls the man's lips.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have the loveliest eyes?"

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