cw: nsfw, masturbation, overstimulation, spanking, fingering, blowjob, squirt.
You had been a peculiar child, a mix of sweetness, shyness, and insatiable curiosity. Unlike other children, who eventually left behind their faith in the extraordinary, you never abandoned your beliefs. You fervently believed in the Easter bunny, the tooth fairy, Santa Claus, and surprisingly, the boogeyman as well. As a child, your nights were a strange and charming game: while others feared the darkness, you ventured into it, looking for a certain figure that you sometimes felt close by. Ever since you noticed a pair of eyes watching you and a certain figure with great height at the end of your bed when the lights went out waiting for you to close your eyes and fall asleep to sow small doses of fear in your dreams, you used to pretend to sleep just to catch it and be able to see it. It was a game they had. When you found it, you approached it with cautious steps and touched the ethereal robe that used to cover it; Your nervous smile lit up the dim light, and he couldn’t help but watch you with curiosity as you wrapped yourself in it like sheets and then ran back to your bed, taking shelter under the covers.
But as you grew up and left behind your childhood fears, your belief remained intact, something that many people at a certain age of adulthood tended to abandon. You no longer feared him; rather, you considered him an almost familiar presence, a shadow that had accompanied you throughout your life. He had become an occasional presence, watching you from the shadows without interfering too much. However, that connection you had shared in your childhood remained, even if it was not always admitted. Now, at university, you had changed a little. Although you were still the same, you had also learned to laugh at things that you had previously taken seriously, as a way of fitting in with your friends.
That afternoon you had gone out to the park with your group of friends, some closer than others, but friends nonetheless. Between lively conversations, the subject of supernatural beings came up. Between laughs, your friends began to joke about the beliefs they used to have before, calling them “kid stuff.”
—It’s silly to believe in them now —one of your friends commented while laughing. You simply smiled weakly, feeling out of place. —But as kids we all had that idea, right? That magic existed and all that.
—And what about the boogeyman? —another boy joked, exaggerating his voice to make it deeper. —Maybe he’s listening to us right now.
Laughter filled the table, and although you joined in at first to hide your discomfort, your laughter wasn’t completely sincere. You ended up laughing genuinely when the jokes took a lighter tone. Even though you knew your friends didn’t mean anything bad, a small part of you felt like you were betraying something very personal by laughing. In the shadows, Pitch was there, watching you with golden eyes filled with amusement and disdain. He’d been nearby all afternoon, intrigued by your interactions and your changes over time. But when he heard you, the same girl who’d played with him and believed in his presence, join in the laughter, something in him stirred. He couldn’t let that little betrayal go.
You came home exhausted that night, flopping onto your bed with a sigh, kicking off your shoes and staring at the ceiling wearily. You barely closed your eyes when you felt an unmistakable chill. Something was wrong. Opening your eyes, you saw him. Standing in the shadows, his tall figure illuminated by the dim moonlight.
—What a lovely evening. Looks like you’ve been enjoying yourself.
You quickly sat up straight, turning your head in his direction, heart pounding. There was Pitch, emerging from the shadows with his elegant demeanor and enigmatic smile.
—Pitch —you murmured, feeling a mix of surprise and slight nervousness as you watched him slowly approach with his movements as fluid as smoke.
—Don’t get me wrong. I’m flattered that you still believe in me. But that little scene with your friends… —Pitch pretended to think, touching his chin. —Laughing at me, even if it’s just to fit in, that doesn’t go unpunished.
—I wasn’t making fun of you —you protested, looking at him and trying to explain your side of the story.
—No? Because from my perspective, it seemed exactly that. —His voice took on a darker tone, though it was still loaded with mockery.
—I wasn’t making fun of you; I was just following the mood —you clarified, trying to defend yourself.
—Excuses. —Pitch moved closer to you, leaning in so far that his face was just a few inches from yours. —Spoiled girls always get what they deserve. —He spoke in a theatrical tone, enjoying the confusion on your face.
Before you could excuse yourself again, Pitch holds you by the waist, placing you face down on his lap after sitting on the edge of the bed, holding you there firmly. You felt your face heat up as he began to lift your skirt up over your hips, revealing your ass. Although you felt embarrassed, there was something else you didn’t want to identify; perhaps it was the brush of his fingertips across your exposed skin or the knowledge that you were under his eye. Pitch raised his hand and brought it straight to his target, giving you a gentle slap firm enough to resonate in the quiet room. It wasn’t painful, but it was clear enough to make you let out a surprised gasp. Pitch continued, administering a few more slaps to your ass, enjoying your reaction, while you couldn’t help but feel indignation and a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Pitch bowed his head once he was done, caressing your ass now with a red mark that would stay there for several minutes. He knew that, despite your apparent anger, you weren’t really upset. If he knew you as well as he thought, you probably would have liked it more than you were willing to admit. It was something you thought too, and it left you grumbling, given the truth of this, but you wouldn't admit it, even if your flushed face and silent actions proved otherwise. Seeing you discreetly move your hips seeking more intimate contact and close your legs tightly, ignoring his gaze, Pitch couldn't help but smile mockingly at this.
—Despite everything, you're still very predictable —he comments as he separates your legs and guides his hand further. —And what is this? —He murmurs, running one of his long fingers over the line of your slit marked by the moisture that was beginning to wet your panties. He moves his hand away from your crotch, rubbing his fingers as he brings them closer to his face to check the slimy moisture between them, then looks at you with disdain. —How pathetic.
With agile hands, he quickly pulls down your panties until they fall to your feet, observing the small, pearly, wet shine that peeked around your area. You let out a squeal as you felt one of his fingers touch your sensitive parts, then bury itself inside. With pitiful slowness, he began to move his finger in and out of your hole, making you sigh in annoyance, which made Pitch smile. He roughly added two fingers, beginning to fuck your pussy with speed and exquisite expertise, making you unconsciously moan as you clung to his knees, almost hugging them. His fingers began to get more and more soaked as he moved them quickly and his thumb rubbed considerably at your clit, noticing how you opened your legs more to feel him deeper. You moaned breathily as he began to hit his fingers against that special spot, making you see stars as you tightened around his fingers and came.
He barely managed to let you enjoy your euphoria enough when he straightened you up to stand, gently pushing you onto the bed, forcing you to stay seated on the tip while he remained in front of you. Your eyes widen with palpable excitement as he releases his cock and grabs you by the back of your neck, pulling you closer with clear intentions. Your tongue darts out and sucks on the tip to start, causing Pitch to flick his tongue, quickly pushing his cock to explore your throat; the action causes you to take him in with surprise and let out a small cough, making him laugh. You suck hard as your head bobs up and down taking in his entire cock, nearly dripping onto his tunic with the drool that built up from sucking him; your hands grip his thighs for support with your mouth doing the work.
—That’s it, that’s it, so good —he murmurs as he strokes your head, enjoying the intense heat of your mouth surrounding his phallus, feeling every touch and every suck until he releases his load.
Pulling away from you, he grabs your cheeks, running his fingers over your wet lips and catching the remnants of his cum that escaped, bringing the rest with his fingers into your mouth so you could swallow it all without wasting a single drop. With a sly grin, he pushes your body face down onto the bed; removing your skirt so it wouldn’t get in the way, he positions himself over you and brings his cock to your hole as he spreads your ass cheeks, entering slowly and unhurriedly, enjoying your warmth. Your eyes roll back as he starts fucking you in a good rhythm; his pelvis slapping against your ass like firm slaps; his cock invading your slick pussy mercilessly, going in and out, forming a ring of cream at its base the harder he went. You moaned, hiding your face in the pillow and gripping the headboard of your bed as he kept your ass in the air, fucking you with everything he had, your legs shaking as you felt like you couldn’t keep up for too long. Pitch lets out a quiet gasp at the feeling of how hard you were clenching as you came, but not letting you rest he continues to fuck your walls, keeping your juices inside without letting them out. Rubbing your clit as he still held himself inside giving you everything he had, smiling at the sight of your exhausted and overstimulated image, though you seemed to be holding it in without even saying a single word, wanting more.
Your tired eyes widen as he pulls out of you forcefully and lays you down this time on your back to look at you; grabbing one of your legs he pulls you towards his body, lowering himself on top of you to take his cock inside your pussy again, now a mess with mixtures of your juices, staining the sheets. Your legs wrap around his hips out of instinct as you feel him bury himself in you, and in response he holds onto your hips firmly, showing no mercy as he begins to drill into your pussy again. You raise your arms, trying to grab onto whatever your hands find as Pitch holds you open, rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your hands ball into fists as you grip the sheets tightly and try to move your hips to match his rhythm, feeling your stomach churn, your body searching for something more. The sound of skin slapping against skin was the only thing you could hear in the dark room apart from their voices. Pitch pants in your ear as he hits your spots, burying his nose in your neck after brushing away strands of hair that covered your face and stuck to his sweaty chest. You let out a small cry as you release a stream that wets your belly and his; your vision became blurry and your mouth opened drooling in pure ecstasy. squeezing his cock as you feel the clear liquid wet your sheets beneath your ass, you come undone beneath Pitch as you take it all in. He stops rubbing your clit, then releases long ropes of hot cum that fill you again and make a mess between so many bodily mixtures together. Coming down from your high, Pitch smiles, showing his teeth in an unkind smile, bringing his face close to yours to plant a slow kiss and then grab you by the hair.
—I can still hear you teasing me. Do you think that’s something I can let go? —His deep voice echoed in the room and the sudden grip made you let out a moan. His hand closed around your hair forced you to look at him. —Are you going to learn not to lie again?
—Yes, I promise. —Your voice came out shaky as you tried to recover, still coming down from your euphoria. Pitch smiled, a smile that was anything but reassuring, caressing your face with the tips of his fingers, which made you shudder knowing that nothing would end yet.
—But why risk it? —He murmured. His eyes seemed to shine with an almost hypnotic intensity, smiling at the sight of your expression.
When dawn finally broke through the darkness of the night and the doors of the university opened, as you reached the entrance to meet your friends in a turtleneck sweater, frequent yawns, and a sleepy expression, you attracted curious glances from the group.
—Are you okay? You look exhausted. —One of them asks, raising an eyebrow.
—Yeah, I just didn’t sleep very well last night. —You force a smile, trying to hide any strange traces that could be noticed as if you didn’t already look strange that morning.
—Nightmares? —another asked, laughing softly.
—Not exactly… —you murmur, your thoughts returning to memories of last night. Without thinking too much, you continued firmly:—I really believe in him. The boogeyman.
Your statement was met with incredulous and amused laughter, but without malice; Your friends didn't give it much importance, thinking it was just one of your quirks.
—Well, to each his own. —one of them replied, and soon the conversation turned to another topic.
Hidden from the shadows, Pitch smiled, pleased with your words. Although he didn't show it, he could perceive the subtlety emanating from your face, as if you wanted to play with him indirectly, which intrigued him. For your part, an idea began to form in your mind. There was something addictive about the intensity of his presence, the way he made you feel small and wanted at the same time. Maybe you should push him and make him angry more often.
🏹 a/n: A few days ago I watched this movie again and I honestly didn't remember the characters like that, so now I have a hyper fixation on Pitch Black. There aren't as many stories about him as I would like so here is my contribution.
