#♱ the ring .

[evergreen-endo]

worlds most irritating couple somebody separate them STAT !!!!!

[gladiatorcunt]

recently realised that i’d like to be hamzah to the mandy and martin that is rafebarry

THAT IS SUCH A FUNNY WAY TO PUT IT????? but it’s the most accurate i think. just sitting there & vibing out but the rafebarry version is that barry’s doing some of the worst things you can do to a person to rafe

[bloodfiendarling]

my sister yall

[americanrecord]

giving lex hazel eyes spread the word

[gunsmiths-a]

pls marry me give me just one chance i beg-

❝ that’s really cute, really . . sure, get the ring ❞

[prognostik-a2]

things about alice that i think about a lot;

her healing factor and physical resilience are genuinely insane. alice can survive a number of things: gunshots to the head, high-power ammo tearing her apart only for her body to rebuild her again, tasers going straight to her neck or head and not even passing out, even bites from those infected with the t-virus and other strains of it. granted, despite the accelerated healing, if you continue to inflict enough damage, she will be hindered and will go into a sort of “hibernative” state in order for her body to heal itself. she will also go into a similar hibernative state if it is held down in water for a prolonged period of time, and this is arguably the easiest way to keep it incapacitated. umbrella utilized this strategy when project alice was still young.

it actually died when the t-virus was first introduced into it’s body, only to be reanimated by the virus itself.

her jaws are actually really powerful! she can tear a chunk out of somebody, but she tries not to do this as she’s not particularly fond of seeing what her own strain of the t-virus does to other people. ( because that’s how it spreads, y’know. saliva ) when desperate times call for desperate measures, she will utilize this, though.

speaking of, anyone she reanimates is entirely at it’s beck and call. she is the undead’s hivemind, similar in the way eveline from re7 can control the people around her. she can tell the undead whether or not someone is an enemy or a friend; they can recognize their allies and foes.

alice is actually really good at makeup! she often utilizes it for the purpose of making herself look … less off-putting? the translucency of her veins can cause a lot of stares ( especially since these veins spider out to her face and arms especially ) so she covers this up with foundation.

severe claustrophobia, severe hydrophobia, severe aversion to anything medical. she hates bodies of water, she hates hospitals. she hates needles especially. it brings back too many bad memories.

when it comes to her living situation, she tends to survive off of money she steals from any of the people she kills. she cannot rent out an apartment. she cannot buy a home. all of her IDs are false and she doesn’t have a bank account to her name. she is quite literally homeless and it’s probably going to stay like that for as long as she lives. as for where she lives, where ever she’s prowling, she lives in a car. if the situation calls for it, she’ll get a hotel room to last her a couple days.

it styles it’s hair a number of ways, mainly to throw off whoever is looking for it. sometimes she’ll wear it natural, sometimes she’ll twist it into locs, other times she’ll braid it down and utilize a wig. i think in recent times, she’s begun to keep her hair in locs, as she likes the look of it !

it has barely aged in the last two decades. if you pull up a photo of alice now and compare to her in the late 1990s, you will notice no difference except for some bags under her eyes. the t-virus is constantly rebuilding her cells and inhibits cell damage, therefore staving off aging. it does hate this factor of the virus, though. the thought of outlasting everything around it has gotten to her, and it’s even scarier because the virus within her has shown no signs of weakening or even waning.

polyglot. outside of english and her native ukrainian and russian ( which she found she just … naturally knows ), she knows german, spanish, french, japanese, mandarin, and arabic. she also knows a few other dialects specific to a region.

it has a slight accent! tends to roll her r’s, broader intonation. it can be recognized as distinctively ukrainian. however, she can also force her voice to omit her accent entirely, making her sound more like the average american.

[bloodfiendarling]

seeing my sister genuinely crash out whenever she sees one of these is . funny

@sumisumiko

stop stealing not only my chests but also my fking time

[r4spb3rr13s]

things they do that make your heart skip a beat

♱ bakugou, kirishima, midoriya, todoroki, kaminari, shinsou

fluffy and suggestive 😔

disclaimer this could all js be niche stuff i find attractive…

bakugou

♱ wears black compression shirts and tank tops that cling to his biceps, shows uncharacteristic patience helping you with schoolwork, blushes when he catches you looking at him, grabs your hips when he walks past you, cooks shirtless with a ‘kiss the cook’ apron on, chronic manspreader, reverses the car with his hand on your seat and looking over his shoulder yk exactly what im talking about

kirishima

♱ makes you sit on his back when he does press ups - will then proceed to do one handed press ups while grinning at you in the gym mirror, poses after a work out for you, wipes stuff off your face and (if edible duh) licks it off his thumb, has the worlds deepest morning voice, hugs you from behind CONSTANTLY - if he could glue himself to your backside you better believe he would

midoriya

♱ IS RESPECTFUL TO HIS MOTHER 😫😫, will hurl himself out the car to come open your door for you, gives you the most insightful opinions of clothes, makeup, whatever, rubs his thumb over your hand when he holds your hand, holds the door open for you without a second thought, the sidewalk rule <3, saves every. single. photo. you send him

todoroki

♱ pays for everything before you can protest, sends you flowers with little notes attached randomly, brushes/styles your hair for you, will sit for hours in changing rooms w you and make you do 360s for every outfit, takes candids of you and refuses to delete any of them, constantly leans down so you can speak in his ear and you get a big whiff of his fancy cologne, speaks diff languages 🥹

kaminari

♱ leans his hands on the tops of doorways when he’s talking to you, pulls you in by your belt loops to talk to you, leans over in the middle of serious conversations to whisper a stupid joke in your ear that you have to struggle not to cackle at, wears rings and lets you play with them, calls you “m’lady” and “ma’am” when you’re annoyed at him, whenever he zips you up in a dress or buttons you up he’ll kiss the back of your neck and your shoulders, is really good with his little baby and toddler cousins 🩷🩷🩷

shinsou

♱ “yeah?” “mhmm?” WHEEWWW SIR, plays guitar for you and sends u vids of him playing songs u request, stretches and his shirts always lift up to show off his happy trail 🙂‍↕️, drags you down to sit in his lap for EVERY activity he does - paperwork, video games, whatever, has constant bedroom eyes???, tugs on your hair to get your attention, had to lean back and adjust himself everytime he sits down bc he wears the baggiest pants in existence

do i need to start a taglist?

[chrissv4mp]

♱ SOUNDS BETTER

"m'wife's so pretty," she whispers to herself, but you hear. saying you were soaked was an understatement.

WARNINGS. SMUT, breeding kink, cum-filled strap, strap in v, subtop!billie × dombottom!reader, nipple play, pet names, use of y/n a few times, fluff.

SYPNOSIS. when the topic of whose last name one of you would be taking after marriage comes up, billie finds herself in a rather... sticky situation.

LETTERS. i hate this okay bye 💔💔💔

"y/n o'connell," billie murmurs from her place at the edge of the bed, her legs hanging off while her body lays comfortably on the mattress. she rolls onto her stomach, resting her elbows on the bed so that she can lay her chin on her palms, "rolls right off the tongue." she giggles.

you shoot a smirk that matches her own cheeky one, your back resting against the headboard as your legs rested crossed over each other.

"yeah, but billie y/l/n sounds pretty good as well, no?" you ask, voice higher than usual. whenever you and billie landed on this topic, you always got so excited, and she was quite aware of that.

she shrugs, wiggling her entire body onto the bed and crawling over to you slowly. billie takes her lower lip between her teeth, blue eyes fixated on your own e/c ones. she straddles your lap, and you stretch your legs out straight so that she can sit comfortably, hands coming to her hips to pull her closer.

your smile grows as billie's hands cup your face, her thumbs—both adorned with rings—caress your cheeks gently. her smile fades, but you know she's still very much comfortable and happy in your presence. the cool metal of her rings on your warm skin makes you shiver, and when billie realizes, her smile comes back instantly.

in just a few seconds, billie manages to remove your hand from her hip, slip a ring off the ring finger of her right hand, and smoothly push it onto your own ring finger. she examines your hand for a long moment, her hand gripping your wrist possessively as she takes in the sight.

"a little loose, but..." billie speaks, voice quiet. her eyes flick back to yours, and this time, you catch the desire and longing swirling in her eyes—those pretty blue ones that always had you in a trance, "i think it looks pretty good on you," she whispers, eyes slowly moving down to your lips.

"mrs. o'connell." she adds, a lazy smile tugging at her pretty lips. your other hand squeezes her hip gently as you bite the inside of your cheek. it was taking all of her willpower not to beg right now.

you shake your head with a quiet chuckle, leaning closer to her face. billie quickly closes the distance between you two when she realizes. her hand moves to your neck, fingers wrapping around your throat to pull you closer. she scoots closer to your body, her heart beating rapidly and her head spinning.

just the taste of your lips had her going insane, hips rutting against yours so that you could feel the strap she'd hidden beneath her boxers earlier that morning. you groan against her lips, and billie swallows the noise with pride, smiling against you as her tongue swipes along your lower lip.

you allow her tongue into your mouth happily, ears picking up on her needy whines as you fight against the wet muscle. in the end, you win, but billie doesn't give up her role that easily. reluctantly, she pulls away from your lips—but not without dragging your lip between her teeth, the action that always had you soaked, even more than you already were.

her hands leave your face, fingers brushing against the skin of your cheeks before trailing down your half-naked body—thank god you both only slept in your undergarments. her touch leaves a trail of fire behind, only adding to the aching feeling between your thighs. her eyes never leave yours, even as she reaches behind your back to unclasp your bra.

you let the straps fall off your shoulders, leaving billie to rip the piece of fabric from your arms, throwing it somewhere around the room. she practically drools at the sight of your tits on display for her, her hand coming back up to knead one of your boobs while her lips latch onto your other nipple. a soft whimper leaves her, eyes rolling back before shutting closed.

your fingers tangle themselves in her black strands, tugging at her roots and causing billie to moan against your skin. she clings to you like you're her lifeline, fingers digging into your breast so firmly yet with such care, her thumb rubbing circles along your nipple as she suckles on the other. it feels like she's in heaven, her head spinning with nothing but the image of you beneath her.

when she pulls away from your nipple, a thin strand of saliva forms, and billie licks her lips hungrily before trailing wet kisses down your stomach, stopping when she reaches the waistband of your panties. her eyes flick back up to yours, staring at you through her lashes, asking silently for permission to take the thin piece of fabric off of you.

"take 'em off, pretty." you whisper, voice quiet and breathy from how worked up billie had you already. your tone makes her shiver, and she wastes no time, fingers looping in the thin, pink waistband and tugging them down your thighs, legs, and ankles before throwing them to the side like she did your bra.

billie whines softly at just the scent of your arousal, scooting closer and taking her place between your legs, "m'wife's so pretty," she whispers to herself, but you hear. saying you were soaked was an understatement.

her finger glides through your folds, lips parting to let out a quiet sound of surprise at how drenched you were. she grinds against the mattress, the base of the strap-on rubbing against her clit perfectly. her cheek rests against your inner thigh, her breath fanning across your pussy.

you chuckle gently at her needy actions, your hands running down your body to grab handfuls of her hair again. she raises her head again, getting the memo whenever you nod your head in her direction. who was she to disobey her (soon-to-be) wife?

she pulls away from your pussy with a sad whine, eyes locked on your folds as she scoots off the bed to rid herself of her boxers. she steps out of them, the indigo cock standing proudly between her legs. her face flushes in embarrassment as she catches your gaze, her eyes leaving your body as she crawls back on the bed with her head hanging low.

both billie's index and middle fingers come up to her lips, spitting softly. you watch as the saliva drips down her lengthy fingers, your pussy clenching as she lowers her hand onto the strap-on, pumping the large cock in her hand. you huff impatiently, rutting your hips up against the nothing. a silent plea—or, more so, demand—for her to hurry up.

billie nods in understanding, biting her bottom lip harshly as she crawls even closer, her hands moving down to push your thighs even further apart. her eyes are locked on your soaked pussy, enamored by the way you clench around nothing. her heart beats faster in her chest as she lines up the tip of the strap-on with your entrance, breathing getting heavier at the anticipation.

"bil, hurry." you command quietly, your hands coming around to grab at her back, sneakily undoing the clasp on her bra. she bites her lip even harder when she realizes the straps slowly sliding down her shoulders, helping you by taking it off completely and throwing it to the side.

"jus—wait, baby," she murmurs, clit twitching at the sounds of your labored breaths and the faint smell of your perfume. her head hangs low, eyes fluttering closed as she thrusts her cock into your core slowly, her movements gentle as she whimpers, "fuck, ma—can you imagine how much better this'll feel on our wedding day?" she babbles, smiling at the thought.

you throw your head back against the soft pillows, her words barely registering in your head as you feel her splitting you open on her cock. your nails dig into her back, pulling her closer in the process and feeling her chest press against your own. the mix of billie's whimpers and your moans fills the room and both of your guys' ears.

one of billie's hands leaves your thigh as she begins to see a perfect pace—one that's not too fast, but not too slow either. her ring-clad fingers drag across your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake before she reaches your arm and pulls one of your hands from her back. billie pulls away slightly, kissing down your body until she reaches your nipple, taking the erect bud between her lips again.

"jus' like that, love," you praise, mouth falling open into an 'o' shape. your eyebrows furrow as billie thrusts deeper, not even noticing whenever she interlocks your fingers with hers—until you squeeze and feel her large hand squeeze back, "shit, you're such a good girl." you moan.

billie moans against your skin at the name, hips rutting into yours faster. her hand on your thigh spreads you further apart, fingers digging into your supple skin as she suckles on your nipple. the combined stimulation of her cock rubbing against your walls and her lips on your tit makes you feel like you're on another planet—drunk off of her.

"gonna make you m'wife," she mumbles, releasing your nipple with a 'pop' before she continues, "then 'm'gonna make you a mommy." she says, voice laced with nothing but lust and adoration for you and you only. billie lets her head rest in the crook of your neck, placing gentle, open mouthed kisses on your sweaty skin.

at her words, you finally realize that she's fuckjng you with her special strap—one that she rarely used, but it was still her favorite, "s'one?—fuck, y'know how much i love 'ts one, bil." you breathe, nails dragging down her back and leaving a trail of red marks.

she hisses softly at the pain, nipping down on your neck in response before she feels a light slap on her back, "sorry—sorry, didn't mean to." billie babbles, soothing the sting with her warm, wet tongue.

"y'close, mama?" she asks next, voice whiny and broken as she feels her own orgasm approaching. her hips rock the silicone cock deeper into your pussy with each thrust, the base brushing her clit and sending shocks all throughout her hot, trembling body, "please. please, want'chu you t'cum for me." she begs, eyebrows furrowing as her hand leaves yours reluctantly.

her fingertips brush against your sweaty skin, your hips bucking in response before her touch is gone again. your jaw somehow drops lower as billie begins to rub tight circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, your nails digging into billie's back harder than before and definitely drawing blood.

billie didn't care. the only thing that mattered to her was getting you off, making you hers, and making you a mommy—even if it wasn't scientifically possible, who cared? not billie, that's for sure.

"fuck, baby, you're gonna make me—!" you cut yourself off with a gasp as she bites down softly on your nipple, sending shivers all throughout your body, "god, 'm'gonna cum, bil!" you warn, pulling her closer to your body once again, making her cock slide deeper between your walls—if that was even possible.

"please. please, sweetheart." she begs in that whiny tone of hers, and that was what finally did it for you. the knot in your stomach snapped instantly, and billie was quick to reach down between your two bodies, squeezing the base of her cock and releasing the fake cum into your tight walls. you almost lost it at the feeling.

billie helps you ride out your high, grunting gently into your ear and muttering, "you're gonna have my babies as soon as we get married, baby. gonna—gonna make you mine. all, fuck, all mine." she stutters, her own orgasm approaching as her thrusts get sloppier and sloppier with every second.

"c'mon, pretty," you breathe into her ear, your hand leaving her back to run your fingers through her hair. that simple motion gives her the final push she needed, her own orgasm hitting her in waves of pleasure as she slowly thrusts into you, "that's a good girl." you praise, and billie cries out.

her hips don't stop, though, slowly and slowly getting faster despite her oversensitive clit. she trembles above you, wanting—needing to fill you up again, although you were already leaking with both your cum and her own, "wan' more," she mumbles.

"jus' a few more f'you." she says it as more of a statement than an ask, and you can't deny her, not when she's giving you those pretty puppy eyes and pouting her lips.

"mrs. o'connell, mrs. o'connell, mrs. o'connell," she repeats it like a prayer, her hips rutting roughly against yours as she whimpers quietly. she was gonna marry you. she didn't know when, but she knew that she was definitely gonna put a ring on it.

TAGS: @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @stonerfromlesbos @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @karaeilishh @mybluebossanova @sturnsmia @moralesluvr @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @natbelovasblog @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @hopelessfawn @zayluvss @meliciousmel13

[evergreen-endo]

you like tokyo revengers right? *drops this and runs*

https://www.tumblr.com/mdsbabygirl/762439191732912128/hanma-youre-back-at-it-again-with-the?source=share

WOAH!!!!!! i just woke up anon damn now i’m sticky 😣😣 that’s my mf man i love when artists draw hands hands make me really feral

[ari-sa]

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻

roommate!geto x reader. part two

cw: mdni. suggestive, masturbation, a little bit of choking?, oral (m!receiving)

a/n: got a little carried away here so it’s kind of long, also this is only my second time writing so I’m sorry if it’s bad!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻

roommate!geto who lays in your lap as you run your nails thru his long hair, pretending to be asleep so you won't get up~

roommate!geto who catches you staring at him after he’s walked out the shower with nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, beads of water clinging to his body. “like what you see princess?”

roommate!geto who listens to you vent every time you and one of your situationships don't work out "you deserve so much better baby" he says as he pulls you into a hug, planting kiss on your forehead >,<

roommate!geto who becomes more touchy since you started going out on dates again-

randomly cupping your face with one hand and squeezing it gently to make you pout mid conversation;

hugging you from behind while you cook to 'thank' you for making breakfast. "thanks for always cooking for me doll" he says as he wraps his arms around you, feeling his bare chest press against your back~

roommate!geto who when you're bored you go to his room to hang out with, but end up falling asleep on his bed-

roommate!geto who's mesmerized by your sleeping figure and doesn't have the heart to wake you up when he wants to sleep so he ends up climbing into bed with you.

suguru is hyper aware of EVERYTHING. how your hair smells, how soft your legs feel, the fact you aren’t wearing a bra- it all he can think about all night.

in the early hours of the morning when he absolutely cannot deal with his morning hard on anymore he goes to get up, but you grab his wrist, "sugu don't go" you whisper, dragging him back to bed~

roommate!geto who makes you getting ready cocktails <3

roommate!geto who you 'platonically' ask to practice kissing, because you haven't kissed anyone in a while and you don't want to disappoint this 'guy that you really like'-

roommate!geto who actually kisses you <3

as the cold metal of his piercings brushes against your lips, you lean deeper into him. his hand snakes up to wrap around your neck and you feel a wet patch forming in your underwear.

as the kiss turns into a full blown make out session, he notices you squeezing your thighs together- his hands move to cup your face and he swipes his tongue over your lips willing you to part them further. your hands begin roam, while his tangle in your freshly curled hair. instinctively you cup his erection through his pants. he let’s out a moan- almost a whimper.

he needs you so bad. he thinks about how good your lips would feel wrapped around his cock. how cute you’d look all messy and drooling over his length, batting your eyelashes up at him. he’d scoop all your hair up and push your head down further onto his erection. watching your makeup you spent so long on get more and more messed up eventually cumming undone in the back of your throat~

the kiss is languid, feverish and messy, but ends when the door bell rings and your date is here.

he watches you get up from the couch, tugging from at the hem of your dress, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and attempting to smooth your messed up hair.

“have fun baby” he says with a smirk as you slip on your shoes~

roommate!geto who actually dies inside when you actually start dating this guy you met on tinder.

roommate!geto who just lets out a scoff when you open your birthday present from your boyfriend and it's a gold necklace- you ony wear silver.

"here princess," he says as he hands you a small jewelry box with a little bow on it. opening it to find a silver necklace~

"thank you sugu i love it!" you say leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. he doesn't miss the way your boyfriend rolls his eyes at your reaction.

roommate!geto who “borrows” your dirty panties when you’re not home~

laying in your bed, he wraps a lacy thong around his cock, slowly fucking his fist, thinking about how much better he is than your asshole boyfriend.

roommate!geto who cums in your panties and then puts them back in your laundry basket- who would ever notice?

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻

a/n: sorry it took so long to get this out haha, I was kinda scared to post it 😭

Im super open to feedback so please lmk if I should’ve done anything differently

I have part 3 almost ready, but it’s gonna be more of a drabble/one shot format!

[bunnygirllover45]

— The shape of love. ﹑◌﹒WARNINGS﹕Kidnapping, implied punishment, ugly jealousy, some descriptions of body harm ( just wounds or bruises, and it doesn't get too graphic), lots, and lots of deranged ramblings, it gets very dark at times. This is narrated from the POV of the Yandere, you can read this as a 'letter' of sorts.

♱ ✧ ⤷ Word count: 997 (felt lazy and I didn't reach 1k lmao.)

There you go again, looking at me with the same eyes as always.

I don’t know how many times I’ve repeated moments like this inside my head since the last time. It's been a while since I've been this close to you.

The trembling of your body lets me know that your excitement is as big as mine, is your body perhaps unable to contain all those bubbling feelings?

I grab your legs, my hands softly pressing against the flesh, feeling it under mine —so soft and delicate, for a moment I thought that maybe if I pushed my fingers inside of it I could spread it like a cloud made of cotton— when I pressed I could fee the shape of your bones underneath just a little, the sensation made my own body tremble.

It’s a shame you’re still shy to my touch, even if it’s something simple like a small caress or a kiss on the cheek you’re always trying to push away from me, I would love if you to cling onto me more when I do it or have you begging silently to do something more. I know you wouldn’t tell me with words, you’re not good with them.

Now that I think about it, I’ve never heard you say my name since I brought you here, no?

I should tell you what it is now so you could say it between sighs and I could engrave the sound on the back of my brain forever — those sweet sounds could captivate me forever.

I wonder if you’d say my name with a kind voice, or you’ll just talk to me with the same indifference and fear that’s so characteristic of you. I do admit that is kind of endearing, wild animals were always more interesting than domesticated ones thanks to their hostility, it makes me want to approach them, stick my hand, and see if they’ll bite me, or would just run away and hide in a corner.

I wouldn’t mind if you bit me, I would love to bite you as well in fact, I would wear that mark proudly and I would make sure you do it as well, we could bite our fingers and pretend the marks are our wedding rings, a testament of our love engraved on our skin.

Hahaha — I’m rambling again, please don’t get nervous, you know I usually get lost in my thoughts when I’m here with you, especially when my hands are idly dragging across your skin  — nails and all — leaving red marks behind.

I’m just tracing small invisible circles on your skin and you’re already getting goosebumps, I think that when I touch you delicately like this is when you fear it the most, right? I’m always keeping the momentum, you’ll never know when I can dig my nails into your skin or grab you and never let go.

I press a simple kiss on the skin of your heel, dragging my lips across the length of your leg, what a celestial feeling, there’s nothing in this world that could compare to this mere sensation. You’re trembling again, that makes me smile.

Sometimes when night falls and there are no more thoughts left to think inside my head my mind begins to wander off the path, usually it doesn’t lead me anywhere in particular, but since some time ago I’ve had this constant thought; there are other  —people— that had touched you like this before?

I would like to think that I’m the only one who had the privilege to enjoy all of you, that no other mark of fingers or teeth that doesn’t have the shape of mine has been on your skin.

Thinking like that makes sleeping easier for me.

I’m thankful that right now you can’t speak to me, because if I made you that question and you responded to me that yes, other people had marked you like I did, I think I would had the impulse to tear apart each part of you that has been tainted by them.

Not because I hate you, on the contrary, I just think I couldn’t live with the idea. That you belonged to someone else even if it was just for a moment, what am I saying? I don’t even like the idea of you belonging to yourself.

But if I were to do that, I think I’d like to go to extremes no other people could; kiss your open wounds or taste your blood, that would be romantic, don’t you think?

I press my face against your thighs while I keep dragging my nails up and down your legs, I sigh again, tilting my head slightly to take a better look at you, I can see myself reflected in your own eyes now, how romantic, just like in the movies you like to watch.

I like the me I see in your eyes, I like the idea that it belongs to you alone, the idea of you keeping each small expression I make just for you, each blink would be like a small photograph you take of me and keep inside your head, aaaalll yours.

My mother used to tell me that love is only true if you can see it reflected in the one you love,

From your red cheeks — was I too rough last night?

Your bruised knees — If you would just learn how to sit properly at the table already, it would make our meals more easy.

Your beautiful hands — You should stop trying to take off your handcuffs.

Your shining eyes — Is that a small tear I see? Maybe I should reach it and lick it, I wouldn’t like to go to waste.

Yes, I think for the first time something she said made sense, now that I took a better look at you, I don’t think there’s any better proof of this —

You’re the truest, most beautiful form of ‘love’.

[maneskinwh0re]

ghostface!sevika x feminine!reader 👻

impulse fic for arctober 29th {sevika day}

men/minors dni, nsfw 18+

middle pic art creds to @ guccipussay 🖤

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cw: dom!sevika, sub!reader, fem!reader, a man…(reader has a bf but dw he don’t last long :3), blood, gore, violence, cheesy horror movie clichés, implied murders, mask k!nk, choking, kn!fe play, wlw smut!

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♱ halloween night — you sit next your boyfriend, cuddled up on the couch with your legs draped over his lap. his eyes linger up and down the black lingerie dress that hugs your curves, while your own eyes are focused on the horror movie playing on the tv.

♱ saw. a great franchise and the original being one of your all time favorites. as you watch, with every jump scare, your boyfriend grabs at your waist or tickles you, which is usually followed by you screaming and then playfully hitting his arm or chest.

♱ you want to like him. you do like him, but he gets on your nerves. yeah — you often go on errand trips and gym sessions with him and yeah — while you’re there, he occasionally flirts with other women when he thinks you aren’t looking. but spending your favorite holiday with him is a must. after all, what could go wrong with a simple horror movie marathon? everything is perfect, yet the night is still young.

♱ the city has been getting more and more dangerous recently, and as the clock nears midnight, all the kids must’ve gone home. the neighborhood is quiet with the exception of owls and chirping crickets.

♱ suddenly, the movie is interrupted by your phone ringing — a call from an unknown number.

♱ typically, you don’t answer a call unless the number is in your contacts, but your boyfriend irritably pauses the movie and insists you pick it up.

♱ with an agitated sigh, you answer. “hello?”

♱ “hello,” the person says on the other line. the voice is deep with a feminine undertone, laced with a rasp that almost catches you off guard.

♱ “who is this?”

♱ “you tell me your name, i’ll tell you mine.”

♱ “i don’t think so. can i help you?”

♱ “i just gotta ask you one question, baby.”

♱ baby? who does this creep think she is? you can’t help but admit her voice sounds attractive. “yeah? what is it?”

♱ “what’s your favorite scary movie?”

♱ your stomach drops and you end the call with a shudder, tossing your phone to the cushion next to you and breathing slow. something in your gut is telling you not to engage.

♱ “so… who was it?”

♱ “probably just some bratty teenagers prank calling or something.”

♱ “you lying to me?”

♱ “no! what?” you blurt out, almost angered with his distrust towards you. with a huff, you push yourself off your boyfriend’s lap and head towards the bathroom. “keep it paused, gimme five.”

♱ after rinsing your face with water, you take some deep breaths in front of the mirror. calm your nerves, it was just a phone call. the tense feeling in your gut still lingers as you walk back to the living room only to see your boyfriend is nowhere to be found. calling out his name, you sit back down on the couch and pick up your phone to dial his contact.

♱ “ugh- i’m not in the mood for this shit!” you yell out to him as you call his phone.

♱ you hear his phone ring in the other room and decide to make your way to the kitchen. you see it buzz repeatedly on the counter, watching it and zoning out as if waiting... something’s not right. where the hell is he?

♱ “your call has been forwarded to an automated voice messaging syste-” the sound of your call going to voicemail snaps you back to your senses before hanging up and looking around. you’ve seen too many scary movies to know this is how it all starts, and you try not to let the thought freak you out.

♱ startling you again, your own phone buzzes. unknown caller id. taking a deep breath, you tap the green button on your screen. “hello?”

♱ “hello again, beautiful.”

♱ that damn voice again. your anger rises at the woman on the other line. “what is this? some kind of sick joke? a prank?”

♱ “no no, baby. a game. a real easy one. y’ wanna play?”

♱ “what the f… do i have a choice? what’s stopping me from hanging up right now?”

♱ “maybe it’s your fear that you may not live through this very night.” yeah, right. anyone could make threats like this. she continues through your silence, “you never told me your name…”

♱ “why do you wanna know my name?”

♱ “i wanna know who i’m looking at.” your anger fizzles and breath hitches. fear smothers all the oxygen in your lungs and words are caught in the back of your throat. “you do have a choice, dove— to play or to die.”

♱ “fine,” you agree with a shaky breath, you internally scold yourself for turning to grab the nearest knife. who cares if you’re overreacting? you’re not dying tonight. you grip the knife’s handle tight as you hold your phone up to your ear. you start walking out the kitchen and down the hallway before your question is cut off with her single word. “how do i-”

♱ “colder...”

♱ you stop in your tracks. as a horror film fan, you have yelled at your television screen when a character makes a dumb decision or if you’ve wanted a better plot line. you always thought you would make logical choices if you were ever —hypothetically of course— put in a situation like this. but in this current moment, your head is only clouded with uneasy thoughts and vicious worry. you take a step backwards and start to return to the kitchen.

♱ “warmer… warmer,” her voice trails on as you play the game step by step. you pass the living room and enter the kitchen, stopping when you hear her voice again. “ah ah- cold.”

♱ you turn around and slowly creep your way back to the living room. the thought of her eyes constantly watching causes you to feel a mixture of fear and something else. your short steps continue towards the sofa where you sat care-free maybe only 10 minutes ago.

♱ “warmer… warmer… keep moving, baby. you’re doing so good… red hot. riiight there...” the mysterious woman taunts as you look around. and once you catch the sight behind the couch, you can’t help the horrified gasp and shriek that escapes your lips.

♱ your boyfriend lays motionless, face down on the floor in a pool of his own blood. deep gashes and slices have left his body mutilated. yet no weapon is left anywhere.

♱ fuck. this means she’s already in the house. your heartbeat races and your ears start ringing. no- that’s the phone—the sound of a dial tone. she hung up.

♱ you go to grab a bigger knife from the kitchen but they’ve all been taken. what’s the next best weapon? the only other option you see is the dirty pan that’s been left on the stove from dinner. looks like you’re sticking with the smaller knife you grabbed earlier.

♱ your phone goes off again, causing you to yelp at the ringer and then internally curse yourself for being so jumpy. it’s her again. you try to sound confident, but anxiety and dread involuntarily rises from the back of your throat. “what the fuck do you want?”

♱ “you, baby,” her voice is low and sultry, and you try not to let it get to you.

♱ “you’re psychotic…”

♱ “hm… sorry about your boyfriend. all those muscles didn’t help much,” she replies before ending the call again.

♱ you wander the house, preparing yourself to fight at every corner you turn. “where are you, motherfucker?” you whisper to yourself as you start to creep down the hallway. and before you realize what’s happening, a gloved hand reaches around to cover your mouth from behind, muffling your panicked scream that follows.

♱ your phone drops to the floor as you quickly swing your arm back to stab the tall figure behind you. your aggressive attempt to defend yourself is reversed as the woman dodges the knife and spins you so you’re now pinned against the wall. her right hand still muffles your mouth and the left holds your wrist above your head.

♱ your hold on the knife above you is weak as you freeze in her grip, your free hand clawing at her forearm. you can feel the size of her muscular arms in your struggles. once your vision clears, your squirming slows to a stop as you are face to face —or face to mask— with your intruder. her towering figure is clothed in black-hooded fabric and a long black and white mask is layered over her head, its mouth shaped as if screaming.

♱ you breathe through your nose in short gasps. “look at you… even prettier up close.” she tilts her head as if studying you. you’re unable to see her eyes but it’s obvious she’s looking you up and down as if you’re her next meal. “scream for help and you die. y’ got that, angel?” her hand tightens its grip on your mouth and her tone is short and stiff, like a merciless general commanding orders to a feeble soldier. you confirm you understand with a small nod, eyes still welled with tears until you soon blink them away. once your breaths even, she lowers her hand. “there you go, now was that so hard?”

♱ “what the fuck do you want from me?” you ask accusingly, making sure to not get caught up in anger. luckily, your shaky words don’t provoke her and only bring her to a deep chuckle.

♱ “such naughty language,” she says with a tut, almost amused with your fear as she lifts your chin with a gloved finger. you try so hard to push away the butterflies that form in your stomach. “besides, i thought we went over this already.” she lifts her leg between your thighs, teasingly pressing her knee up against you and trapping your body against the wall. a short gasp escapes your lips at the sensation, and she smirks under her mask. she uses this position as leverage to take the knife from your grip and lazily toss it down the hallway. the sudden sound of it clattering to the floor makes you flinch and her hands quickly return to your wrists, pinning them high above your head. “i’m not going to hurt you, angel,” she whispers, her disguised face leaning in close. “not unless you want me to…” and at the end of her sentence, your name rolls off her tongue. how the hell does she know your name?

♱ “y-you’re a damn creep,” you spit back less harsh than intended, and she can tell your barriers are wavering. if you’re being completely honest with yourself, it’s difficult to focus on your frustration when her actions are affecting your body like this. your mind is fuzzy, your chest feels tight, and your core aches. a moment passes as you stare at the woman in front of you, her broad build dominating your figure. the flesh of your bare thighs involuntarily clench on either sides of her knee. you’re in short, black lingerie… of-fucking-course you’re feeling vulnerable in her arms. “what ‘re you gonna do to me then?”

♱ “only things you want me to do, sweetheart.”

♱ and at this, she has you. her words bring a breathy whimper from your lips and you grind yourself against her knee. like a slut. you’re not proud, but it feels good— fear and distress not dissipating but mixing perfectly with pleasure. it’s exhilarating. intoxicating. arousing. it’s a way you’ve never felt before in relation to sex, with your boyfriend or anyone else for that matter.

♱ “y’ dirty little thing. you like this? tryin to get yourself off at the threat of your fuckin life?” she asks, her degrading tone not doing anything to help you come to your senses. “if y’ want help, jus’ use your words.”

♱ “h-help… please,” you nod up to her, squirming and going to cover your face with your hands until you're reminded of her own gloved hands restricting you by the wrists. you want to hide— hide from her, from your shame, from the lust, from your lack of wanting to fight whatever this is. but as soon as she lowers her hand to feel how wet you are through the fabric of your underwear, all negative thoughts abandon your mind.

♱ “give up the fight, dove.” the masked woman’s voice is rich and warm, and you finally pinpoint her subtle puetro rican accent while she speaks. she feels you relax into her hand at her words and loves hearing the quiet sounds you make as one of her fingers slowly circle your clit through the thin, dampened material.

♱ “i give up- i… i give up. please, just-”

♱ “you want me inside you, baby?” she whispers into the nape of your neck, the bloodied plastic of the mask grazing across your exposed collarbone. your hurried nod cues her to remove her right glove, and her left hand lazily shoves it in the back pocket of her black jeans under her cloak. you catch a glimpse of her veined hand before she pushes your underwear to the side and thrusts two thick digits into your wet cunt. you clench around her middle and ring fingers, watching how white rings of cum drip and gather at the dark skin of her knuckles.

♱ her free hand trails up your chest and grips you by the neck, squeezing lightly and bringing a strained moan from the back of your throat. “been watchin' you for a while now. 've seen the way your fingers wrap around this throat as you touch yourself, thinkin' no one could fill those filthy desires o' yours.” your hands grasp at her forearm again and force her grip harder against you. she chuckles once she realizes what you’re trying to do, and decides to give you what you want, a tightening hold that's hard enough to leave bruising. “you like my hand right here? choking the damn life outta you? y're a sick little slut, it’s adorable.”

♱ as her long fingers thrust and curl inside your heat, you find yourself at her mercy while she fucks you against the wall. the thought of your boyfriend's cold, rotting body in the other room is long gone. and you can only focus on how warm this womanly murderer feels against you, killing just so she can get to you. now that thought is what makes you weak in the knees.

♱ “can y' keep yourself standing, baby? or do i need to fuck you on the floor?” she asks as her fingers quicken their movements.

♱ “mph- i can stand!” you insist, trying so hard to keep your jelly knees from buckling under your limp self. you feel your back start to slide down the wall, disproving your protest. you're visibly unable to hold up the weight of your own trembling body. it's not your fault your trespasser just makes you feel so fucking good. so fucking close... until she stops.

♱ her fingers pull out quickly and she seizes one of your arms, not bothering to wipe your juices off her fingers. you feel how soaked two of her fingers are as her large hand grips your upper arm, tightening to a painful squeeze.

♱ “clearly, you don't have the strength. so we're gonna try s'mthin' new,” she says before tearing your underwear off and throwing you to the wooden floor. you lay there for a moment, shock hitting you as you try to take in oxygen again. facing away from the intruder, you bring your forearms close and try to crawl towards the other end of the hallway. your hips roll to the side with every other crawl so you can rub your thighs together, attempting to recreate that same friction you felt seconds ago.

♱ in the state of hysteria, you miss the foul act of the masked woman tucking your underwear into the other back pocket of her pants.

♱ you turn your head up to see her slowly bending down to pick up the kitchen knife she tossed away minutes ago. you see the back of her head through an opening in the mask's fabric. her dark hair is short, maybe reaches just past her ears. but any further sight of her human characteristics are cut short once she stands up and her posture straightens. her head turns to you. and your breath quickens. she begins walking. every brisk step passes faster than the last as she gains more speed down the hallway, knife clutched in her fist.

♱ is this how it truly ends? a trick to get edged and then end up killed? some scary movie.

♱ alarms blare in your mind and genuine fear takes over as you try to crawl away. prey chased by predator. think y' know who wins in this twisted game.

♱ a gloved hand clutches the flesh on your shoulder and flips you onto your back. you can't seem to help your panicked scream that erupts into the fabric of that same damn glove. she removes her palm with a forceful shove away and pins both your wrists to the floor on either sides of your head. she lowers her body on top of you and straddles your hips, shushing you and reassuring she won't hurt you.

♱ you almost believe her until your frightened eyes watch her arm lift, the knife held tight in her fist. she brings it down hard causing you scream again and squeeze your eyes shut, too scared to watch how she guts you. when you don't feel any pain, you peek an eye open to watch her laugh. laugh at your terror, knife still in hand.

♱ rightfully pissed off now, for both fearing for your life and the pleasure she has delayed you of, you spit up at her ghost of a face. your saliva scatters across the plastic, but surely she felt mist of it directly through the patches of the eyes and mouth. she pauses. and if only you could see that sadistic smirk of hers, just so proud of your little defiant act.

♱ but every bad action has its consequence.

♱ the knife lifts again and is slammed down into the floor, just inches to the right of your head. the handle points up to the ceiling and your ghostface girl guides your hand up and wraps your fingers around it, then follows suit and wraps her own left hand around the handle as well. it's sentimental, you tell yourself as you focus on calming your breathing.

♱ her right hand trails down your chest and returns to its place at your cunt. she teases a finger before pushing in two again, and you can't tell how long she keeps delaying your needed orgasm. one moment, you're a pleading mess. the next, you can't speak because her gloved hand clutches at either your mouth or throat. she smells of dried blood and alcohol, bringing you close only to pause her movements for the second time.

♱ “please, i can't keep doing this. i... need to-” your begs are cut off by her taunting words.

♱ “need to what?” she asks, her mask leaning close to your face. “say it.” her intensity rises a blush to your cheeks, and when you can only let out a shy whimper, she withdraws her fingers from your aching heat again.

♱ ignoring your protests, fusses, and pouts, she shoos your hand off the knife's handle next to your head and yanks it out of the floor in one swift movement. she trails the sharp point of the blade down your torso, from your chest all the way to your mound. you can't help the little buck of your hips as the cold metal lightly grazes your clit.

♱ that little movement brings her to a chuckle. “i know a lot o' things about you, dove. but i wasn't sure you'd crave knife play this badly.”

♱ you can only muster a strained groan. and with that, she flips the weapon and gently pushes the handle into your soaking walls. the most provocative of sounds is brought at the contact, and it's music to her ears. she groans in satisfaction and ogles at how well you take it.

♱ her thrusts are slow, careful, gentle, turning and pushing and pulling... mindful of how easily she could injure the flesh of your inner thighs or even your pretty pussy with one wrong move. her skilled hands work you up again, probing your body with her calloused skin.

♱ you feel that knot in your core grow tighter and tighter. in a moment of impulse, your shaky hands reach up to grab hold of the ghostface's mask and pull it up to reveal your intruder's real identity. she just lets you, casually watching your wide-eyed reaction to her appearance as she fucks you faster.

♱ she's fucking gorgeous. you first notice her eyes, a shining grey in contrast to her darker skin. her nose is wide and hooked, her lips are plump and soon turn upward in a sly smirk as you study her. she notices your focus lingering at her lips, so she allows herself to lean in and place a light kiss to your slightly open mouth. your jaw is slack as you continue to take staggered breaths, yet you want more. you chase the kiss once she begins to pull away. connecting your panting mouth to hers again, she pushes her tongue into your mouth with a groan and swallows every sweet whimper she brings from the back of your throat.

♱ the handle of the knife continues to pump in and out of your leaking cunt. she knows you won't last much longer. you can't. you break the kiss at the last possible moment to gasp for air, and she uses that short second to pull her ghostface mask back down with her gloved hand.

♱ she wants her lips to be on yours again, but she'd be damned if she returns to the sensation. she's already internally scolding herself for becoming too attached to the taste of you, but she is just loving how you make vulgar curses sound sweet in the ways they spill from your panting lips. “f-fuck, fuck! i'm gonna-”

♱ “i know, baby, i know,” she says, her deep voice slightly softens as she speeds up her pace and grazes your clit with her thumb. “sevika,” her deep voice mutters close to your ear. and when you bite her clothed shoulder as a way to mute your own uncontrollable whimpers and moans, her gloved hand returns a threatening squeeze to your throat. after forcing you back down to the floor, she speaks again. “scream for sevika. scream my name as you cum on my fingers, dove...”

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♱ blue and red lights move across the walls through the windows. the blaring sounds of sirens are heard from outside. you think you find peace until you hear muffled yells from police officers at your front door, warning anyone who is in the entryway that they're breaking it down. you hear a countdown and loud pounding, but the ringing in your ears is louder.

♱ by the time the officers run down the hallway and get a sight of you, there's scattered radio chatter followed by paramedics springing into action and bombarding you with questions.

♱ “ma'am, can you hear me?” ... “can you tell me your name?” ... “have you been stabbed?” ... “is there anyone else in the apartment with you?” ... “who did this?”

♱ you're coughing and sputtering. your body is in a heap of blood, sweat, and tears (and cum but it's not as noticeable). at this point, you only remember little flashes.

♱ sevika. you never got to tell her how pretty that name is. you remember the outlines of her face. the trace of her fingers... the trace of that knife before it was plunged into you. not deep, nor anywhere vital. you remember being in that post-orgasm gaze... a whisper in your ear — “for evidence...” — and then a sharp pain sliding its way in and out of your side, bringing you to a pile of blood and pained tears on the floor. you were already covered in sweat — she had made sure of it, but then she had to go ruin you again. ruin your body twice.

♱ a flashlight is shining in your eyes, bringing you back to the present as well as attention to the obvious growing blood stain in your clothing. your breathing becomes strained and labored as your vision starts to cloud.

♱ “victim has three visible injuries-” you overhear paramedics take note of your body's condition as they bring in a stretcher to carry you. “stab wound and two abrasions, neck and chest...”

♱ a subtle grin sneaks its way onto your face once you realize why sevika left you in an open pile on the floor. she didn't want to kill you, but she also didn't want to see your name in a court file. seems like getting found with a stab wound would lower your chances of being high suspect for your boyfriend's murder. they have no other leads so far, but sevika made it seem like you were at the wrong place at the wrong time.

♱ you know police will pester you with further questions and investigations, but you don't care. your lips are sealed.

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♡ this was so rushed i actually don’t like it but WHATEV

♡ hope y'all enjoyed! lmk if y'all want this to be a series bc i love halloween too much to only post spooky themes once a year...

- 🐝

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tag list: @lovinglywriting ♡

[luvyeni]

( SPOOKTOBER ) what's your favorite scary movie ! 🎞️ 一 양정인 ՞

𝓟 airings. ghostface!jeongin x fem!reader wc. 2.1k

🕸️◞ WARNINGS. morally fucked reader, murder, knife kink, oral ( ayen. receiving ), unprotected sex, rough sex

「 ♱ authors note 」 is it really spooktober without a ghostface fic?? happy day 4 everyone!!

never answer a phone number you don't know; your mother always told you this. you don't know who could be calling. she always told you , and you thought she was just being a paranoid parent — besides with what's going on in the world, who has the time to prank call someone.

“did you hear the news this morning?” you mother panicked. “what is it now mom?” you stood at the microwave, heating up some leftover food. “apparently there's a serial killer , targeting people over the phone.” you scoffed. “mom please, i told you they were pranks , stop reading articles from facebook.” you laughed. “i didn't read it on facebook , it's on the news.” she said. “look for yourself , it's on now.”

giving her the satisfaction, you walked to your living room; picking up the remote , switching on the television. “did you find it?” you clicked through the channels , finding the new station. “yeah , im watching now.”

“3 reports of murder have happened over the span of three weeks, sources claim victims all happened to be linked with a killer known as ghost face….”

“see.” she exclaimed , “you need to be careful now that you're all alone.” she said. “make sure all of your door are lock and you must never an- answer the phone for numbers you don't know.” you interrupted her. “i get it mom.” you said, the microwave going off. “i have to go now, my food is ready.” she hummed , giving another quick safety lesson. “okay, mom i love you too.” you said before hanging up , tossing your phone on the couch.

you made your way back to the kitchen to retrieve your food; only to be stopped dead in your tracks by your phone ringing again. “mom.” you scoffed, turning back around to the living room , picking your phone up from the couch , not bothering to look at the number. “mom i told you i will call you tomorrow , im fine , really.” you said , only to be met with silence. “mom?”

“what's your favorite scary movie?”

you scoffed hanging up the stupid. “so fucking stupid.” you made your way back to the kitchen , finally able to eat your leftovers , standing at your kitchen counter , scrolling through your phone while you ate , multiple articles about this ghost face killer all up and down your feed. “gosh.” you said reading the details. “so violent.”

you were about to continue on , when you got another phone call— but it wasn't your mother , it was an unknown caller. “who could this be?” you said , your thumb hovering over the decline button , you thought about that call from before; now you were curious. “screw it.” you hit the answer button. “hello?”

there was a slight breathing before a voice spoke up. “what's your favorite scary movie?” the same voice again. “who is this?” you asked , it was silence again. “hello?” you dragged out the the last syllable , but still no answer. “im hanging up now.” you said. “you haven't answered me princess?”

“so you do have a voice?” you said. “what kind of question is this?” you asked , putting your dishes in the sink. “just a curious cat.” the voice said. “do you call everyone with stupid but curious questions like this?” you laughed to yourself , opening your freezer to grab a popsicle. “only the pretty ones.” you smiled , opening the popsicle. “how do you know what i look like?” putting the icy treat into your mouth. “doesn't really matter how i know , just know i know.” he said. “now answer the question.”

“is this the part where i'm supposed to say some crappy 80’s movie that no one has ever heard of?” you scoffed. “well it's not , it the shinning.” you said. “did that answer your question? goodbye now.” you were about to hang up , when he stopped you. “you really are so pretty princess , especially sucking on that popsicle like that.” he chuckled , as you slowly removed it from your mouth. “no i bet you'd look even prettier gutted like a fish.”

“that's the look i was looking for baby.” he said. “fear.” throwing the popsicle into the sink , you walked over to the window , looking outside it.. “wh-who is this?” you asked. “an admirer of pretty things and so far you're the prettiest.” reaching up to close the curtain. “i wouldn't do that if i were you.” he said , you put your hands down. “good girl , now back away.”

“i'll phone the police.” you said , “you won't get away with this.” he laughed once more. “i’ve gotten away with it the last three times, haven't i?” thinking about it for a second. “you're that killer from tv.” he let out a fake gasp. “bingo baby , you're a smart girl aren't you.” he said. “now i know you won't call the police , because you know by time the get there , you'll be dead and i'll be long gone.”

you ran over to your security system, which was armed. “that would be smart , but it doesn't reassure anything will it? i may already be in your house.” you froze in your spot. “i might've been here the entire time.”

“don't hang up now princess , this is just getting good.” not knowing if this was some sick prank or not , you ran around the house making sure all the windows were locked. “i do like watching you run around in those little shorts , keep going you may draw me out princess.” you cursed. “shut up.” you shouted. “is that anyway to talk to me?” you ran back to the kitchen , grabbing a knife — but they were all gone. “what the fuck.”

“i’m not dumb baby, now stop running around before you tire yourself out before i even make you beg for your life.” he said so nonchalantly. “wh-where are you?” you asked. “answer me.” he sighed. “come find me.” he said. “maybe i'm in the place where you clean your pretty body , your body wash smells nice.”

you slowly made your way up the steps ; the bathroom on the left right as you go up , turning the small corner — the bathroom door was wide open , no one was inside. “i did say maybe princess , i could very well be down downstairs , or in your bedroom.” it was silent for a second and you were about to step down the steps , when a arm wrapped around you , a cold blade pressed against your neck. “or i could be behind you.” you voice whispered in your ear.

you tried to break away , but he pressed the knife deeper into your neck. “no don't do that, baby , unless you want me to slit your throat.” you stopped fighting , he laughed. “good girl , you listen well.” he said. “pl-please.” you begged , he dragged the knife across your cheek. “look at you begging already.” tapped the blade on your cheek. “trust me baby , you'll know what begging is when i’m through with you.”

he dragged you back to your bedroom , kicking the door open , throwing you on to the bed , knife still in his hand , now you could see him — well his masked covered face dried blood still on from his previous killings , black cover up. “you don't look frightened, baby.” he said. “you almost look like you're enjoying this.” he tilted his head to the side. “you are.”

you tried to scoot away on the bed , but he grabbed you ankles , pulling you back towards him. “getting wet for a killer princess , now that's a new low.” he said , spreading your legs open. “tiny shorts , i can see the mess you made , you aren't wearing any panties.” you whimpered. “whimpering like a slut.” he let your legs go , “lay down on your stomach , facing me.” knife in his hand waiting for you to obey him. “good slut.” he took the black cloak off , he was only sporting a pair of sweats , his bare torso showing , a bulge prominent in his sweats , making your mouth water.

“look up at.” he dragged the knife down your cheek , under your chin , forcing you to look at him. “so desperate for a cock in your mouth , you're drooling baby.” he let out a dry laugh, removing the knife from your face , pulling his sweats down , along with his underwear , his cock slapping against his abdomen. “go on touch it baby.” you grabbed the base of his cock , kissing his mushroom tip , red and leaking with pre-cum. “wrap those pretty little lips around my dick and maybe i won't kill you.”

opening your mouth allowing him inside , he moaned through the mask. “fuck , im gonna fuck your face.” he gathered all your hair into a ponytail , to keep you still. “fuck.” the masked man rutted his hips , forcing his cock to the back of your throat. “sh-shit thats it , take my fucking cock slut.” the knife hanging in his hand , so easy for you to grab. “fuck , yo-you might want to think twice about that baby , im way faster and it would be so easy to jam this into your head , just keep sucking like the good whore you are.”

he fucked your throat more rougher , you moaned around his cock. “there we go , choke on my dick , fuck gonna fill your mouth with my cum.” he gripped your hair , shoving his cock into your mouth roughly snapping his hips against your before cumming into your mouth. “fuck.”

pulling you off his still hard cock , you let out a string of coughs and gasps. “good girl.” he slapped your cheek softly. “i'm done though.” climbing on the bed , dragging you in the position he wanted. “let's see what's under here.” he dragged the knife up your torso , dragging his knife down , cutting the thin fabric of your tank top. “no bra , just as i thought.” dragging the blade down your naked body , stopping at your waist , pressing down. “ow.” you whimpered , he waved the knife in your face. “see how easy that was for me to hurt you , and here you are ready for me to stuff my cock inside that needy pussy of yours.”

yanking your shorts down , leaving you fully naked and at his disposal. “th-the mask.” you stuttered. “no baby that stays on , seems like you like it anyway.” he slapped your cunt. “seeing as you're dripping all over your sheets , is it the blood on it?” he dragged his length , his tip grazing your clit. “does it turn you on all the people i killed?”

you moaned , he laughed. “i guess that's what it is , you're fucking sick princess.” he let out a groan as he pushed his cock inside you. “getting wet for a killer , you were practically ready for my cock.” he held your leg around his waist as he began to pound into you. “i could kill you right now.” his knife was pressed against your neck again , you moaned. “fu-fuck , that turns you on , doesn't , your pussy tightened hearing that.” he laughed. “fucking slut , you're gonna cum aren't you.”

he pulled out of you , flipping you on your stomach , slamming back inside you. you screamed as he pounded into your cunt. you felt his blade pressing against your bum. “should i carve my name right here?”

you moaned. “pl-please , please.” he groaned. “sh-shit , i told you you'd be begging for me , come on.” he slapped your ass. “beg for me , beg for me to let you cum.”

“fuck! , please let me cum , please.” you begged , tears streaming down your face. “fu-fuck , fuck cum , cum all over my cock.” he growled , you let out a moan , legs shaking as you came. “n-no more.” holding you down by your waist , chasing his orgasm , you didn't even realize him , yanking the mask off , throwing it to the floor. “fuck , gonna cum.” he growled , a string of curse words flowing from his mouth as he came inside you. “ shit , that's it, take my cum.”

his cock softened inside you; he slowly pulled out , your body falling flat on the bed , he grabbed the knife before you fell on it. “careful baby , lord knows what i would do if seriously got hurt.” he sat the knife on the bedside table. “i'd go crazy baby.” he flipped you around , you smirked.

“crazy like killing three people?” he smirked. “crazy like killing a shit ton of people.” he kissed your lips. “but you like that don't you?” he said. “if you didn't you wouldn't be asking me to wear the very mask i use while fucking you?” he hummed , “the same knife as well?” he questioned , a crazy smirk on his face , you scoffed. “you're crazy yang jeongin.”

“i know.”

©LUVYENI

[thecw-unicorn]

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.

“𝒟𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝑒𝓉?

“𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮.”

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.

✮♱✮ art by @thiaperezart

✮♱✮ commissioned by me

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.

I’m back with more Elriel!!! This time, inspired by Arwen and Aragorn from Lord of the Rings (and let’s be real, Arwen has the most gorgeous fits), and I think this fits so perfect for Elriel! Here we have them sharing their happily ever after with each other in the Night Court, free to express themselves however they wish and not afraid of those around them condemning it. I want to give the biggest thank you to @thiaperezart and her delivering this absolutely BEAUTIFUL and breathtaking art, and bringing my ideas to life!

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.

✮♱✮ quote is from Lord of the Rings

✮♱✮ characters are Elain Archeron and Azriel.

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.

✮♱✮ likes, saves, and shares are always appreciated!

✮♱✮ no reposts allowed.

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.

[ohproserpine]

vii. deer dolly

see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, heavy warning for violence and blood, overdose, murder, death, hunting, graphic descriptions of injuries, vox being painfully obvious, vox malfunctions (lmao L), allusion to death, valentino warning, alastor's demon form

Rocks and twigs dug into your knees as you crawled forward, the jagged edges cutting your skin as you reached Alastor's side. With trembling hands, you cradled his face against your lap.

"Alastor," you called for him, desperately clutching onto his body, trying to pull him back down to Earth and hold him there "Al, Al, please."

"What did I do? What can I do?" More tears dribbled down your cheeks as you looked down at your husband, leaning in to press tender kisses to the apples of his cheeks. You held him as tightly as you could, careful not to cause him any more pain.

"I can figure out a way to help you, I can. I know I can, baby," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. Your gaze remained locked with your husband's lifeless eyes, the world spinning around you as panic tightened its grip on your chest, making it difficult to breathe.

"Al. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

˚୨୧₊♱

You woke with a startle.

Gasping for breath, your chest heaved with each inhale, the rapid beat of your pulse slamming against your ribcage, the sound hammering in your head. Blinking repeatedly, your vision slowly adjusted to the unfamiliar sight of a ceiling painted with outrageously colorful prints. Faint traces of neon lights filtered through the thin curtains, casting erratic patterns across the room, accompanied by the distant thump of music.

A gentle knocking at the door broke through the haze, accompanied by the muted tones of a familiar voice seeping through the metal barrier.

"Dollface? Are you up?" Vox's voice, though muffled, was unmistakable as it filtered through the door.

Shakily, you pushed yourself up and sat for a while, gathering your composure. The room spun around you, the vibrant colors of the walls and lights blurring into a dizzying kaleidoscope. Eventually, with a deep breath, you pushed yourself into action, moving to open the door.

As you swung it open, Vox stood on the other side, his signature smirk etched onto his features. His mechanical eyes gleamed as they scanned you for any signs of distress or fatigue. And despite your disorientation, you straightened your posture, trying to maintain your usual demeanor in front of him.

"Good morning," Vox greeted smoothly. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

Of course, he wasn't interrupting anything. It was clear to both of you that you had just rolled out of bed. Your hair tousled in disarray, your sleepwear crumpled and creased, and your bed behind you a mess of twisted sheets and pillows.

Still, you forced a polite smile and shook your head.

"No, not at all," you replied.

"Excellent," Vox grinned, stepping a foot past your doorway. "May I come in?"

Despite the internal alarm bells ringing in your mind, you nodded, moving aside to let him in. As he passed by, you couldn't shake the feeling of being scrutinized, like prey under the gaze of a predator before the pounce.

Closing the door, you leaned against it, feeling the cool surface against your back, and turned to face Vox, attempting to hide the unease simmering within.

"What can I help you with?" you asked, keeping your tone steady.

Vox's gaze pierced yours, his mechanical eyes glinting with a hunger that unsettled you.

"I thought of how we could discuss the details of our partnership," he hummed, running his fingers along your dresser. "Over dinner, perhaps?"

The proposal hung in the air, heavy with implications you weren't sure you wanted to explore. Despite your best efforts to hide it, a seething sense of unease bubbled beneath the surface, twisting your features into a grimace.

"Dinner?" The word felt like acid on your tongue as you struggled to maintain your façade, your gaze sharpening into a glare aimed directly at the overlord. "I'm sorry, but… I'm not interested."

Vox's laughter cut through the tense atmosphere, but it sounded forced and hollow.

"I meant a professional meeting, love," he covered up with a wave of his hand, the charm in his voice slightly strained. "Let's go over your contract."

Relieved, you nodded, though beneath, a whirlwind of thoughts swirled.

This could be a chance for you to really have a gauge on your situation. Everything had happened so fast, and you found yourself stumbling in the dark. You knew the Vees were a powerhouse in the entertainment district, their influence stretching far and wide, extending into every corner of hell. They were notorious for their employment methods, for their ability to shape destinies and manipulate lives with the stroke of a pen.

Who knows what was even in your contract?

"Wonderful!" Vox's cheerful interruption jolted you from your thoughts as he extended his arm. "Well then, let's not waste any more time. Shall we?"

"Shall we what?" you spoke slowly, your tone guarded.

"Shall we get to your duties, my dear?" Vox clarified smoothly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his words laden with expectation. "Velvette is waiting."

"Oh—" you jolted. Quickly, you gathered yourself, smoothing down the wrinkles of your robe and adjusting your disheveled hair with clumsy fingers.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you reached out and linked your arm with Vox's. The overlord smirked as he led you out of the room and through the corridors, already launching into conversation about his latest product line.

A part of you found it amusing how similar he was to your husband—both of them chatterboxes who couldn't keep their mouths shut if they tried.

Nodding along to Vox's conversation, you fell into step beside him. As you two walked, it was impossible not to notice the subtle shift in demeanor among the demons and imps, who hastily cleared a path for Vox, some even bowing respectfully as you passed by.

"And here we are!"

Arriving at Velvette's office, you entered cautiously, the tension thick in the air. Models lounged around in various states of undress, their statuesque figures draped in luxurious fabrics. Their expressions ranged from curiosity to suspicion as they observed your every move. Some whispered amongst themselves in hushed tones, casting wary glances in your direction, while others maintained an aloof demeanor, their gazes piercing yet blank.

Velvette stood at the front, her figure partially obscured by the tall curtains behind her. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, swept over you with open scorn.

"Finally! Took ya long enough," Velvette scowled. "Edna, will you please go get her dressed?!"

Edna, a tall and slender imp with delicate horns curved against her head, nodded obediently before gliding over to you. With a gentle tug on your arm, she beckoned you to follow her backstage. You stumbled nervously, clutching your robe as you obeyed.

As you stepped away, Vox chuckled, waving you off with a flourish. You offered a cautious wave back before being enveloped by the heavy fabric of the curtains.

"I know what you're trying," Velvette scoffed as she tapped away on her phone, her perfectly manicured nails, painted in a glossy shade of neon pink, clacking against the screen. Vox turned to her, his expression one of exaggerated innocence.

"Whatever do you mean?" he retorted, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise.

"Oh, please don't act as if you weren't sending marionnette over there heart eyes," Velvette accused, her crimson lips forming a thin line of disapproval. "Listen, I don't care what you do with your little girl toy. Just make sure you don't get in the way of my show."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Vox hummed, taking a seat on one of the plush couches.

Velvette turned to him, surprised, her curls bouncing from the abruptness of her movement. "You're staying?"

"Of course. I'm eager to see your dazzling ideas, my dear," Vox replied smoothly, spreading his long legs across the expanse of the couch. "After all, your show is going to be featured on my channels. It's all anyone has been raving about on Voxtagram lately."

"Cut the crap. You just want an excuse to ogle at her," Velvette scoffed.

Vox leaned back against the cushions, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Can you blame me? She's quite the sight to behold."

Before Velvette could snap back, Edna returned, leading you out from behind the curtains. You emerged, feeling somewhat exposed under the scrutinizing gazes of the two overlords.

No surprise, as the main act, you were dressed in one of Velvette's main designs. Black netted stockings hugged your legs as they met the bright red stilettos that adorned your feet. A red corset cinched your waist and emphasized the curve of your hips, accentuating your figure. Below the corset, you wore a dark miniskirt with cream ruffles and lace, its fabric swaying with every step.

You felt abash as you stood in the outfit. In the past, you had been considered a flapper girl with your bold demeanor and penchant for daring fashion choices, but even you couldn't help but feel a twinge of surprise at the lack of modesty of the skirt in this particular outfit. It barely grazed past your crotch, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

"Let's see…" Velvette hummed, completely absorbed in her task as she approached you, Vox long forgotten. With a couple of snaps of her fingers, the clothing and accessories you wore began to shift and change, transforming before your eyes.

Velvette's fingers danced through the air, conjuring delicate lace and cascading ruffles that stuck onto the corset. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned a cream fur coat, draping it over your shoulders with a flourish. The colors morphed, the fabrics transformed, until finally, with a satisfied clap of her hands, she took a step back to admire your new look.

"Makeup!"

Suddenly, you yelped as a chair was dragged over, pushing against the back of your knees and causing you to fall right into it. A bunch of imps swarmed around you and they wasted no time in getting to work, dabbing various products onto your face and expertly brushing powder along your cheeks.

Once they were finished, they handed you a mirror, allowing you to inspect their handiwork. Unlike the outfit, the makeup look wasn't as unsettling. Your face was adorned with makeup reminiscent of classic clown makeup, featuring exaggerated lashes, a layer of white face paint, and a bold red lip.

"That's it! That's the one," Velvette grinned, delighted with the makeover. Her grin turned into a smirk as she turned to Vox. "Well, what do you think—Satan!"

Vox's screen began to glitch and buffer, emitting sparks of electricity that charred the couch beneath him. The sudden noise startled some of the models, their eyes widening in alarm as they scrambled to move away from the malfunctioning android.

"The hell is wrong with you?" Velvette shouted.

Vox tried to respond, but all that came out was static.

Concerned, you approached him, the clicking of your heels against the floor echoing.

As you settled beside Vox, there was a momentary pause in the static, and he stared at you with wide eyes, the malfunction seemingly halted by your presence.

Part of you screamed at yourself to leave, to let him handle his problems alone. But another part of you remained, despite everything. Somehow, you still felt a sliver of sympathy for the overlord.

Leaning in closer, you furrowed your brow, the red gloss on your lips catching the studio lights. The corset pushed your chest up, and Vox found his eyes shamelessly drifting.

"Are you okay?" you whispered, your voice laced with genuine worry.

But before Vox could respond, he short-circuited, a burst of sparks and smoke emitting from his malfunctioning screen. You recoiled instinctively, your hand reaching out to shield yourself from any potential danger. With a final surge of electricity, he powered down completely, leaving behind a smoldering heap of metal and wires.

"Is he… okay?"

Velvette waved a dismissive hand. "He's always doing this. Probably overloaded his circuits again."

"Now, can someone please get this thing out of here?!" she commanded, snapping her fingers and tapping her foot impatiently.

As the models and attendants hurried to comply, you were pulled back up to your feet by the overlord. "He'll reboot eventually. Now, let's get back to work."

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from Vox, you followed after Velvette as she led the way to a photo studio within the boutique.

The scene before you was akin to a circus, with vibrant hues of bright reds and pinks resembling a Valentine's Day massacre. A carousel in the background spun slowly, its eerie music echoing through the studio. Beating hearts hung suspended from the ceiling, their rhythmic pulses visible as they dripped with blood.

"Alright! Let's get the rehearsal started!" Velvette shouted out as she began to direct the crew. Cameras were adjusted, lights were fine-tuned, and the set was re-arranged to her satisfaction.

Turning to you with a tablet in hand, Velvette tossed it into your hands. You caught the device and quickly read through the document on the screen, realizing it was lyrics to a song. Your eyes rushed to memorize the words, the familiarity of the process washing over you.

Decades in the show industry had honed your skills to perfection, making this routine feel like second nature. A small pang of nostalgia tugged at your heartstrings, reminding you of simpler times before everything went amiss.

“Alright.”

Barely giving you ten minutes to prepare, Velvette deftly plucked the tablet from your hands as she stepped back and settled into a director's chair. The chair creaked softly under her weight as she made herself comfortable, slipping on heart-shaped glasses that glinted in the studio lights.

"Let's see what you've got.”

Lifting the scepter to your lips, you pressed it against your mouth, leaving a trace of red lipstick staining the surface, a stark contrast against the sleek metal. As the lights dimmed, signaling the start of your performance, you took a deep breath and began to recite the lyrics.

I write poems to burn by firelight Drink champagne and guzzle gin Good girls call me "the town bicycle" Don't knock it 'til you've tried my life of sin

With a flick of your hand, you pushed back the curls of your hair, the strands catching the studio lights as you kept your gaze glued to the camera lens. From her chair, Velvette smirked and captured the moment with her phone, the flash briefly blinding the dimly lit set.

Oh, my pimp, knows never mess with me Last prick did that faded quick to black I have no idea where to find him, officers But if you do, please mention that I'd Like to have returned the pretty knife That I stuck ten times in his back—

Before you could even finish, the door burst open with a deafening bang, causing everyone in the room to jump in surprise. Valentino stormed into the boutique, his eyes blazing with unrestrained fury. Without uttering a single word, he launched into a violent rampage, his movements wild and unpredictable.

The air was filled with the sound of crashing props and the desperate, panicked screams of assistants as they scrambled to evade Valentino's wrath. You jerked back instinctively as an arm was thrown in your direction, narrowly avoiding the chaotic fray unfolding around you.

"Damn it, Valentino! What are you doing?!" Velvette shouted over the commotion, her voice strained with anger and disbelief as she dug her fingers into her hair, her perfectly styled locks now in disarray.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" the moth demon screamed back, his voice seething with rage as he held poor Edna by her throat, his grip like a vice around her delicate neck.

"I'm airing out my frustrations!" he spat, his eyes wild with fury.

A sickening tearing sound filled the room as Valentino viciously tore Edna apart, blood splattering across the floor and staining the nearby racks of clothing.

"Fuck!" Velvette cursed under her breath. Fumbling, she retrieved her phone, her fingers tapping against the screen in agitation as she dialed Vox's number.

"My dear," the businessman's smooth voice echoed through the speakers, a calming presence amidst the storm. "What can I do for you?"

"Cut the shit. Are you functioning now?" Velvette's words were clipped, forceful, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Functioning?" The overlord's response was hesitant, his movements jerky as he twisted his head, the wires on his neck audibly cracking with a spark. "I… suppose so."

"Good, because I need you up here now!" Velvette's voice crackled with urgency. "Mothboy is wrecking my department! And I'm waiting for a certain flat-faced prince to come and help!"

Without another word, Vox nodded with a weary groan, the weight of responsibility settling heavily upon him like an oppressive cloak.

"Just another fuckin' day with Val," he scoffed bitterly, his tone tinged with resignation as he pushed himself to his feet with a mechanical whir. "Fuck my life."

In an instant, he transformed into a crackling spark of electricity, zipping up into the CCTV camera before seamlessly teleporting into another one located in Velvette's studio.

"What's going on?" Vox sighed wearily as he materialized, his voice tinged with exhaustion, hands folding behind his back as he surveyed the chaotic scene before him.

"Valentino's lost it again. And he's tearing everything apart," Velvette hissed as her hand shot up, grabbing Vox by the collar of his metallic frame.

Her nails dug into the surface, leaving faint marks as she pulled him down to her eye level. "You need to stop him before he causes any more damage!"

"Consider it done," Vox muttered, rolling his eyes before moving toward Valentino. With a firm grip, he halted the demon mid-carnage, spinning Valentino around to face him. An unsettling grin stretched across Vox's metallic features as he locked eyes with the enraged demon.

"Val! What's got you out of sorts today?"

“That piece of shit! Can you believe what he did?” Valentino snarled, his voice dripping with venom as he flung a small imp across the room, the helpless girl crashing into a clothing rack. “The ungrateful whore!”

"Uh huh, which whore are we talking about now?” Vox spoke nonchalantly as he pulled his phone out and idly scrolled through it. Before he could react, Valentino lunged forward, his claws snatching the device from Vox's grasp.

"Who else would I be talking about?!" Valentino spat, his grip tightening around the phone until it crushed in his hands. With a primal scream, he hurled the remains of the tech against a nearby wall, the impact causing the column to crack under the force of the blow.

You watched with a frown as Vox attempted to calm Valentino, but his efforts fell short against the demon's relentless anger. Despite Vox's attempts, Valentino continued to rage, his voice echoing through the room as he screamed about hotels, phone calls, and among other things you didn't bother picking up.

“Fuck. Alright, he's not calming down anytime soon,” Velvette scoffed, rolling her eyes. She turned to you and motioned for you to follow as she began storming out. “Come on."

Quickly, you nodded, falling into step behind Velvette as she navigated through the gory scene. Blood stained the bottom of your heels as you stepped past limbs and puddles of blood, bones cracked underfoot, and muscles squished beneath your weight. The overpowering scent of iron filled the air, mingling with the metallic tang of fear.

The overlord guided you out of the room and towards the other side of the building, where a door adorned with your name on a golden plaque awaited.

"This is your dressing room. We'll have another shoot in a few hours, so get yourself prepped in here while I go take care of the piss baby," Velvette scowled, already busying herself with her phone again.

"Will do," you sighed, running a hand through your hair, grateful for the moment of rest.

"Good. I'll see you then," Velvette declared with dramatic flair, her vibrant curls swirling around her face as she turned on her heels and walked away, leaving a trail of her perfume lingering in the air.

As you were about to step into your dressing room, the door beside you suddenly swung open with a creak, revealing a slice of the pink-filled bedroom beyond. To your surprise, you were met with the familiar sight of a fluff of white hair. An accented voice filled the air, screaming into a phone, the sound echoing down the corridor.

"I told ya, I didn't mean to—," The demon turned to you and froze, his eyes widening as he dropped his cigar in shock. The carpet beneath your feet caught fire from the dropped cigar, but neither of you seemed to care.

He stared at you, wide-eyed.

Hands flying up to your mouth, you stared back.

For a minute, all you could hear was the muted sounds of Valentino's screaming from the phone speaker and the building's hustle and bustle

"Dollface?" Angel Dust finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper as he blinked dumbfounded. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

Your heart dropped like a heavy stone, sinking into the depths of your chest. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you stood there.

Everything was becoming too much to even process. Your body betrayed you as you lost your balance, collapsing and hitting the floor. A high-pitched ringing pierced your ears, drowning out all other sounds, as warmth seeped from them.

"Aw, shit," Angel Dust hissed in panic. Without hesitation, he reached out and pulled you into his arms, dragging you into his room, the door closing behind you with a soft click.

Ending the call, he tossed his phone away and guided you to a plush couch, the fabric soft and inviting beneath your touch as you sank into its embrace. Angel Dust settled beside you, his presence comforting like a warm blanket on a cold night. He offered you a sympathetic smile, though slightly awkward, his eyes filled with understanding.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he murmured soothingly, his words a gentle caress to your troubled soul.

Opening his arms wide, Angel offered you a hug, and you leaned into his embrace, finding solace in the warmth of his arms as he enveloped you in a comforting hug. Slowly, your senses came together as you nestled against him, the gentle rhythm of his breathing calming the storm of emotions raging within you.

"It's gonna be alright," he whispered softly, his voice a comforting murmur. Moving closer, he wiped away the warm liquid seeping from your ears. You could faintly see his hands moving away, stained with red. "You alright? What happened, mama?"

"A lot," you sighed, raising a hand to massage your temple as you recounted the events of the past 24 hours, from Mimzy's lounge getting busted down to your soul exchange with Vox.

Angel listened intently as you recounted the events, his expression shifting from concern to disbelief as he processed the gravity of what you had experienced.

"Damn, you've been through hell twice. You're one tough cookie, mama," Angel said with a warm smile as he reached for a brush on his vanity and gently ran it through your messed-up hair.

Despite the heaviness of the situation, a hint of laughter escaped you.

"You could say that," you sniffed, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as you let out a long-held sigh. "It's been a while since I've been able to let it all out like this. Most demons aren't exactly the nicest."

Angel Dust chuckled with a shrug, his hands gentle as he worked through the knots in your hair. "Yeah, I've… ah, been tryn'a to stay 'good' for a while now. Charlie's been real pushy with the redemption thing, and I thought, what the hell, why not?"

Suddenly, he paused his brushing and gawked at you, his eyes widening in realization. "Charlie! The hotel!"

Your heart skipped a beat as Angel Dust's words sank in. "The hotel," you echoed, the pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place in your mind.

"Shit!" Angel laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Well, there ya go! I get off shift tonight, and I sure as hell can get my ass over there. Hell, I can leave right this instant if you want!"

"Won't Valentino be pissed?" you asked, a flicker of concern crossing your features. "You'll be—" Your gaze darted over to his discarded phone on the floor, which was buzzing with calls. "Well, already are in deep shit."

Angel Dust frowned, his expression hardening with resolve. He grabbed your coat and swiftly removed it, tossing it aside to cover the buzzing phone. "Fuck 'im. He can bark all he wants in the studio, but outside of it, he's got no power over me."

The spider leaned in, his touch as gentle as a soft breeze against your skin, his fingers delicate as they brushed a stray hair from your face. "I'll help you. So don't get your pretty little tits in a twist anymore, alright?"

With a heavy heart, you whispered your gratitude, bowing your head as tears continued to stream down your cheeks. Today had been bleak, but a glimmer of hope lingered for a brighter tomorrow.

"But I don't want to get you in trouble, Angel," you said softly, wiping away your tears, exhaustion washing over you. "I can wait until tonight."

Angel Dust's expression softened, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Nah, babe, ain't no trouble for me. Besides, waiting ain't my style, and I ain't about to let you deal with this mess alone."

"Plus," Angel grinned devilishly, his eyes sparkling with mischief, the corners of his lips curling up. "I know your man is going to tear shit down. And I want front row seats to all that drama."

˚୨୧₊♱

"NO!"

Charlie shrieked, her voice piercing the air as she lunged forward, her fingers grasping desperately at Alastor's piece on the gameboard. "Al! You can't just do whatever you want! You have to follow the rules!"

Alastor leaned back in his chair, a low chuckle leaving his lips as he regarded Charlie with amusement. "But my dear, where's the entertainment in that?" he purred as he tilted his head in mock innocence. "Rules are made to be broken, after all. So, I had a little fun with it."

"A little fun?" Vaggie scoffed from her spot on the floor, her brows furrowed in frustration as she idly shuffled the cards.

"Yeah, thanks a lot, dickhead," she muttered, her voice laced with irritation. "That's what you've been doing these past 2 hours. If you don't start playing properly, might as well not play. I mean—why did you even bother?"

"For the entertainment!" Alastor cheered, his grin widening as he rolled the dice once the turn landed on him again. With a flourish of his claws, he moved his piece three spaces, landing on an unclaimed building which he quickly purchased. "I came here because I love seeing you wayward souls struggle to accomplish something great, and fail spectacularly!"

Vaggie scoffed and rolled the dice, her hand deftly moving the piece along the board with a flick of her wrist. However, her expression soured noticeably when the piece landed on the Jail panel. She seethed and sank back, silently cursing her streak of horrible luck.

"Ah, like you are doing now!" Alastor smirked down at her like the asshole he was, punctuating his words with a clap of his hand. "Good job!"

Vaggie clenched her jaw tightly, her knuckles whitening as she lifted the board, readying herself to strike Alastor. However, before she could make her move, the door burst open, and Angel Dust rushed in with a gasp. He looked every bit disheveled, as if he had just run through all nine circles of hell.

Charlie's eyes lit up at the sight of him, and she lifted her hand, waving him over excitedly.

"Angel! Perfect timing. We need one more player for Monopurgatory," she exclaimed, gesturing excitedly towards the game board. With a gleeful expression, she plucked a piece from the board and held up a small metal figurine with a wide smile. "You can be the cupcake~!"

"Sorry, princess, I've got business," Angel huffed, brushing his hair back as he turned to Alastor. "Alright, freaks. We need to talk."

Alastor hummed, studying Angel with mild amusement. "My, my, such urgency," he remarked, his smile widening into a grin. "What's got you in such a hurry?"

"It's about Vox," Angel replied, pressing his hands flat against each other. "I need to speak with you in private."

Alastor's grin faded slightly, and he tilted his head, his eyes narrowing at Angel. Well, this was certainly getting very entertaining.

After a moment of contemplation, Alastor shook his head, snapping himself out of whatever daze he had briefly fallen into.

"Vox, you say?" Alastor mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. With a nonchalant shrug, he pushed himself up, twirling his cane in the air. "Oh, well, in that case, let's chat."

With a flick of his wrist, Alastor moved forward and gestured towards the door, indicating for Angel to follow him. Charlie and Vaggie exchanged puzzled glances, but they remained silent, watching as both men left the room.

"You know, I'd usually never even think of entertaining you, and I'd rather let you deal with your own issues. But you seem to be in a great deal of suffering!” Alastor laughed heartily as he shut the door.

"So, pray tell, what happened? Did you get yourself entangled in another deal from a whim decision? My! I certainly hope you don't bring any of this into the hotel. What will the papers say?"

Angel rolled his eyes and cut Alastor's rambling short, jabbing a gloved finger into the Radio Demon's chest. "It ain't about me. And you're gonna want to listen because it's your missus that's in deep shit right now."

Alastor's eye twitched at the mention of you, a brief flicker of static and symbols dancing in the air. His crimson eyes bore into Angel Dust, his expression unreadable, save for the wide curl of his lips.

Inwardly, Angel smirked. If he didn't have Alastor's attention before, he sure as fuck had it now.

"What does my wife have to do with this?" Alastor quipped sharply, his claws delicately removing Angel Dust's finger from his chest. "I fail to see the connection. Do enlighten me."

"Wanna be enlightened?" Angel waved him over, "Then follow me."

Without waiting for a response, Angel turned on his heels and strode out of the hotel. Alastor followed closely behind, his red-clad figure cutting through the streets of hell like fire against the night.

A few streets later, they approached the border edge of the entertainment district, and Alastor halted abruptly, his gaze narrowing in suspicion.

"I don't particularly fancy this area, and I'd rather not enter," he scoffed, adjusting his coat and brushing away dust from his sleeves with a disdainful flick. "It's rather unsavory."

"Just look," Angel rolled his eyes, gesturing upwards towards the towering Vee tower, where a new advertisement had just been erected.

Alastor's gaze shifted upward, and he froze as he beheld your face plastered across the billboard, larger than life, dominating the skyline of the entertainment district. The vibrant colors of the advertisement clashed with the dark hues of the surrounding buildings, drawing attention like a beacon in the night. Beneath the image, in bold letters, was a sign that read: "Sponsored by VoxTek," stark against the backdrop of your image.

There was silence for a minute, then another, before a sharp crack split the air.

"Angel?" Alastor's chipper voice rang out as he stared up at the billboard with a manic grin. Crackling began to be heard as his limbs lengthened, each movement accompanied by the sound of bones shifting and sinewy muscles stretching beneath his ashen flesh.

"Would you be so kind as to…" His antlers began to grow in size, curling and twisting like the branches of a gnarled tree.

"—explain…" His eyes darkened, the whites turning to a deep, swirling black, while the pupils glowed with a golden light, resembling the flickering dials of an old radio.

"—what exactly am I looking at right now?" His hands elongated into grotesque claws, the fingers stretching and sharpening into razor-sharp blades capable of ripping flesh—or in this case, wires—with ease. As his claws extended, they stretched his glove to its limit until it tore right off, revealing the glint of his wedding ring.

"Vox got her soul," Angel replied immediately, his voice steady despite the horrifying sight in front of him. "Screens has her wrapped around his finger, and he's not planning to let go anytime soon."

Alastor's head snapped to the side with a sickening crack accompanying the movement.

"Show me," he snarled, his voice taking on an inhuman quality, heavily filtered by radio waves.

Without hesitation, Angel gestured towards the billboard, his expression blank.

"Get in there, and see for ya'self."

˚୨୧₊♱