#What to do if the Telephone Rings

[thatsbelievable]

[catilinas]

Hera Lindsay Bird, from Waste My Life

[caligulalotus]

alternate parker doesn’t know who jessica telephone is apparently. he does remember fall ball though.

[bi-writes]

Simon would never argue with MOB, that’s a given. And defending her honor??? Maybe it’s leaked that Mrs. Riley is in fact a Mail Order Bride for who knows where doing who knows what and let’s just say someone spreads that rumor around base and it gets back to one Lieutenant👀👀

mail-order bride

cw: graphic depictions of violence, a little smidge of dark!simon, misogynistic language (18+)

"here to see your husband, mrs. riley?"

you smile, shuffling in the chair. the woman who greets you is always here with a happy disposition, even when she's drowning in paperwork and the telephone on her desk won't stop ringing. she looks a little stressed today, but she gives you a smile anyways.

"yeah," you smooth your hands down your jeans, looking around. "told me his day would be slow, so i thought i'd bring him--"

you're interrupted by the sound of intense laughter and loud voices. the front doors open, banging against the wall practically, and a group of soldiers move past you. you fiddle with your purse, smoothing your thumb over the leather, but when you hear the subtle laughter and whispers still around you, you look up.

you make eye contact with several privates. they're whispering in each other's ears, but once they notice you're staring, they laugh a little more and make continue into the building. some of them look over their shoulder at you, and you look down to see if something is wrong with your outfit. when you check to make sure no tags are sticking out and that you haven't worn two different shoes, you just try to shrug it off, tucking your hair behind your ears and tapping your foot anxiously against the linoleum floor.

"okay, he's ready to see you. you know where it is by now, right?"

you blink, nodding, and then you swing your purse over your shoulder to walk over.

there's a game playing in the rec room. they've got banners up for their teams hung on the walls and streamers in different colors, and there's lots of men cheering and whooping in the room. just as you pass by the door, you squeak as you bump right into two laughing men, stumbling a little as they try to right themselves.

"fuck, sorry--" one of them chuckles. you frown a little but try to smile, moving to shimmy past them.

"is that her?"

"who?"

"didn't ya hear? lieutenant bought her off some sort of fucked-up catalog. heard she's real expensive."

you whip around, your lip trembling, and your shoes squeak against the floor as you stare right at them. one of them is smiling from ear-to-ear, and the other is laughing to himself.

"where did you hear that?" you ask.

"everybody knows, love," he winks. "so how much is it for a night? maybe we can do a group rate."

"e-excuse me?" you whisper, and he leans his arm against the wall, trapping you there.

"we heard all about the...program. thought maybe if we asked real nice, maybe we'd even get a discount."

"i don't know what you're talking about," you spit at him. "whatever you think this is, you're wrong. now get out of my way--"

"how much? how much did he fucking pay?"

"oh, mate--mate, you have to stop--" his friend tries to warn him, smacking him on the shoulder, but he glares down at you still, in your face, accusatory.

his face goes from smug to absolutely terrified when he's grabbed from behind. the hand that cages you against the wall is gripped by a gloved hand, twisted at an unnatural angle, and you flinch a little at the sound of his wail when his arm follows it's motion and a sickening pop echoes in the hallway.

his screams are suddenly drowned out by the cheering from the football game. someone scored maybe, but the man underneath simon screams, too, terrified as your husband mounts him like a fucking horse and slams his face against the floor.

it's like watching an artist. he paints his surroundings in flecks of red, the occasional clatter of a tooth falling at their feet, and you tilt your head to the side as you watch simon fist that man's hair and makes him eat whatever that floor is made of. he's in agony--that much is clear, from the way he shakes to the terrified look in his eyes, the pleading he sends your way as he asks for mercy.

when simon lets him go, he collapses onto the ground in a fit of bloody coughs and groans. his arm hangs from his shoulder limply (surely it's been pulled out of its socket), and his face is unrecognizable. you think his eyes were blue, but you can't tell anymore. they're red now, pupils blown wide, and he keeps moaning between broken teeth, "didn't mean it...i'm sorry...i'm sorry..."

simon kneels, leaning over him, and he grips the front of his uniform and pulls him up to sit, making him cry out from the pain. he tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes, and he drops his voice low.

"dunno where ya heard all tha' shit," simon mutters. "ain't true."

"n-no, sir--"

"i didn't say you could fuckin' talk," simon continues. "and if ya do again, i'll make sure ya can't." when he says nothing, simon tsks. "maybe ya wish ya could even afford my wife, mate. but ya can't." he tugs him a little closer. "'m gonna make ya an example. 'm not done with you. you are going to eat a fuckin' bullet from me, mate, but it won't be today. it'll be someday." simon presses his masked mouth to his ear. "but if i hear anyone else repeat wot you said 'ere today, i'll do it sooner. and you should know better than t'run...because i will find ya. wherever ya go." simon jostles him, and you swallow as he cries, trying to pull away, "now say thank you t'my wife. say thank you, because if she wasn't 'ere, i'd put my fuckin' boot in yer mouth--say it!"

"thank you! thank you!"

you simply blink as simon lets him go finally, standing, and as he walks past you, he grabs your hand roughly in his and starts to walk. you look over your shoulder as he tugs you along, and when you look back, you intertwine your fingers with his.

when the door closes behind him, simon slumps in his chair. he grips his mask from the back of the neck and pulls it off, burying his face in his hands. you set your bag down and kneel in front of him, putting your hands over his.

"simon--"

"wot the fuck is wrong with me?"

"simon--"

"i-in...i...i fuckin' lost it--"

you pull his hands off his face gently, cupping his cheeks. the eye-black smears a little around his eyes. there are no tears, but his eyes are watery as he stares into yours. his hands are shaking, and he palms his thighs to keep them steady.

"it's okay, simon," you whisper.

"i didn't want you to see me tha' way," he shakes his head. "violent. aggressive. fuck, i must've terrified you--"

"i'm not scared," you say softly. you smooth your thumbs under his eyes. "no one...no one's ever done anything like that for me before." you meet his eyes, and he leans a little more into your hands, bending low to get closer to you. "maybe he deserved it."

"i would...i would never--"

"shhh," you quiet him gently, shaking your head. "i know. i'm not scared of you."

you lean up, putting your hands on his knees and getting up just enough to get into his lap. you close your eyes as you kiss him softly, hugging him close, soothing him with a soft hand on the back of his head.

"you didn't do anything wrong, simon..."

"it's okay, baby..."

"i love you."

you know it isn't true. you're lying, somewhat, but it doesn't feel like a lie because it feels good. sick of being smaller, sick of being stepped on, sick of letting other people not be held accountable for the things that they do.

just this once maybe, you can let someone bleed. for misunderstanding you. for judging you. for not realizing there is a thing attached to you that bites and tears apart.

the world is a terrible place. and maybe you are simply just owed.

[luvsupa]

I WANT TO HEAR YOU SCREAMMM!

summary: whatever you do, do not fuck mr.ghostface!

tags: ghostface!geto x fem!reader, naoya mention .., set in the 90s and inspired by fear street!!, smut, ōral sex (m and f receiving), knife play, slightly mask kink, humiliation kink, exhibitionism kinda, death, mentions of blood, etc, mdni

w.c: around 3.6k (sorry I got carried away …)

a/n: THANK U GUYS FOR 1.6K WAAAATTTT WE GOIN UPPPPP YEASSS

+ geto in tbis fic looks just like this fanart 🙂‍↕️

kinktober masterlist

you lean against the register, bored out of your mind as you scribble distorted faces on your company’s notepad. working a night shift sucks—especially a closing shift. you huff as the intercom blasts the latest rock song, a weak attempt to liven up the dead atmosphere. lately, the cd shop has been busy with customers buying vinyls, posters, and movies. ugh, it was so annoying having to scan the newest movie, scream. the line was always so long it nearly wrapped around the whole building!

you glance out the glass front doors, scanning the empty, dark streets, genuinely debating whether you should close two hours early since no one is coming. your attention shifts as you hear the bell ring, indicating a customer entering.

ugh.

your smile drops when you see naoya, your annoying coworker who flirts with you in the weirdest ways. he’s always condescending and putting you down until you found out from another coworker that he’s actually attracted to you. he walks toward you, standing in front of the register as if he were a customer. you honestly forgot he was still here after he said he would take a ‘five-minute’ break an hour ago.

“you don’t get paid to draw, now do you?” he says, leaning over to grab the notebook. you let him take it, but he rips the page clean, crumpling it in his fist. gosh, you hated when he acted like the manager. “anyways, I’m clocking out! must suck having to stay for another… two hours!” he laughs, glancing at the clock above. he giggles as he walks behind the counter into the bright red font ‘employees only’ room, leaving you scoffing in annoyance. you waste time fixing the decorations on the register as every minute drags by.

ring!

your heart stops when you hear the company phone ringing. who the hell calls at this hour? you pick up the corded telephone and force yourself into a professional tone.

“thank you for calling cursed tracks, how may I help you?” you say, lazily watching over the store. there’s a long pause, and your brows furrow. is this a prank call?

“hello—”

“what’s your favorite scary movie?”

you burst out laughing, doubling over at the blatant prank call. there’s no way. it’s beyond cringey that you would be a victim of ghostface’s evil scheme. tears roll down your cheeks as you hang up the phone, your laughter still ringing in your ears. but then, you stumble backward, colliding with something solid—no, someone. your laughter halts as you slowly turn your head, gulping hard as your eyes drop in horror. screaming in genuine fear, you see him: ghostface, knife in hand, just like in the movies.

you stumble back into the counter, panic rising as you cry out, cornered in the booth. he drops his hand and bursts into laughter, and your brows furrow in confusion. he lifts his hand to remove the haunting mask, and embarrassment floods over you.

seriously.

“naoya, that wasn’t funny,” you snap, shoving him away as he continues to laugh uncontrollably. “you— you should’ve seen your face! I wish I recorded this— we would’ve been stars!” he wheezes, still amused as you find none of this funny. he continues to mimic your reaction, and you bite your lip to keep from lunging at him.

“stop wearing display costumes, asshole! you’re gonna get us in trouble,” you scold, turning away as he playfully bonks your head with the fake plastic knife. irritation washes over you.

“jeez, naoya— just leave already, you’re ruining my alone time,” you say coldly, clearly annoyed by his antics. you hear his footsteps retreating to the employee room, allowing you to calm down from his stupid joke.

you lean against the counter once again, watching over the store in boredom, your eyes feeling heavy as each minute passes. maybe you should really quit- you’re not getting paid enough for this. you roll your eyes at the ruckus coming from the room behind you—nayoa’s making way too much noise.

bastard, you mentally insult him.

you close your eyes to rest them, feeling exhausted from the long shift when you suddenly sense someone standing behind you. your eyes shoot open, and your heart drops again as you turn around to see nayoa in that damn ghostface costume.

“very fuckin’ funny, naoya,” you scoff, trying to ignore him, but he doesn’t move. he’s breathing heavily under the mask, staying still as if waiting for your reaction. you turn to yell at him, but the words choke in your throat. your eyes drop to the knife he’s gripping in his hand, and it looks too real—dripping with what looks like blood. your breathing quickens as you glance at the fake plastic knife that naoya left on the counter, your eyes twitching in disbelief.

“o-okay, naoya, you’re scaring me.”

“darling, who’s naoya?” the male voice says, distorted through the mask’s speaker. tears rush to your eyes as you see blood seeping from under the employee room door.

you step back, your back hitting the counter, trapping you just like before when nayoa scared you. the male steps closer, tears spilling down your cheeks as fear overwhelms you; you can’t call out for naoya—he’s fucking dead!

without thinking, you attempt to jump over the counter, but before you can touch the ground, you feel yourself being yanked back by strong hands. you squeal at how fast he moves, pinning you against the wall with one hand holding you in place and the other gripping the sharp, bloody knife to your throat. your eyes widen, the blade too close to your artery. if you looked up at the popcorn ceiling. you’d see the end of it—your life flashing before your eyes.

“oh pretty, you were just acting like a big girl,” geto coos, his voice soft yet terrifying. the grip on the knife loosens slightly as he pulls back his head, and your eyes remain shut, fear washing over you.

“y’r sooo fuckin’ nasty, huh,” geto comments, and your brows furrow as you stare at the creepy face behind the mask. he chuckles, and you follow his gaze down—oh fuck. you wish your body wasn’t reacting on its own! you’re grinding your hips against his knee placed between your thighs, your rhythm so subtle you didn’t even realize.

“let’s test how nasty you really get.”

those were the last words that echoed in your head as he had you behind the counter, knees grinding against the freezing floor, your jaw aching from the relentless thrusts. his thick cock slammed into your mouth with brutal force—so deep that you swore you could feel him in your chest, the bulge in your throat visible as he used you mercilessly. both of his hands gripped your head with brutal force, his long fingers tangling in your curly locks as he fucked your face like a filthy fucktoy. his groans, muffled by the infamous ghostface mask, sent shivers down your spine, the hollow black eyes staring soullessly at you as he threw his head back in ecstasy. the obscene sounds of wet gags and sloppy suction filled the store, the mess overwhelming—drool and spit spilled uncontrollably from your mouth, coating his shaft and dripping down your chin, soaking into the front of your work shirt.

your nose repeatedly slammed against his crotch, the rough patch of his pubes tickling against your skin, making you tear up even more. the strain in your jaw was unbearable, his fat cock stretching you wide, each thrust so forceful you thought your jaw might snap. but you kept your grip on his jeans, fingers digging into the fabric as your throat was pounded raw. his heavy black boot was wedged between your legs, you couldn’t stop grinding on him. each roll of your hips against his boot sent delicious friction through your core, and you were drenched, your panties soaked through your pants, sticking to your swollen folds. the slick sounds of your cunt rubbing against his boot mixed with the wet slurps coming from your mouth, each grind making you moan pathetically around his cock.

geto’s head dropped down to watch, eyes behind the hollow mask taking in the sight of you—a filthy, drooling mess on your knees with his cock buried so deep down your throat that a bulge swelled in your neck. drool poured from your lips in thick strings, and your hips moved desperately against his foot, grinding on him like you couldn’t help yourself. but he didn’t let you keep going. his movements stopped abruptly, and with a harsh yank, he pulled your head back off his cock, making you gag and cough, gasping for air. the sound of your desperate choking echoed through the store as strings of spit connected your swollen lips to his twitching tip, your eyes wide with lust and tears. the sight of you, completely ruined in your leggings, face soaked and pussy grinding against his boot, only made him harder, his cock throbbing in front of your face.

“you jus’ can’t help it, can you?” geto growls, his voice thick with cruel amusement as he grinds his boot harder into your cunt, your soaked panties doing nothing to dull the friction. the pressure sends jolts of filthy pleasure up your spine, making you cry out pathetically, your body writhing against him. his grin stretches behind the ghostface mask, those empty black eyes staring down at you, drinking in your desperation.

in a single, brutal motion, he rips you off the ground and slams you onto the counter, CDs clattering to the floor around you. your legs fly up, bent and spread wide, exposing you to him completely. his eyes rake over your body like you’re nothing more than prey. with a harsh tug, he rips your pants off, tossing them carelessly behind him. the moment his gaze lands on the soaked crotch of your panties, your clit twitches in response, your cunt clenching involuntarily, knowing what’s about to come. the fabric is practically see through now, drenched in fear and filthy arousal, and it only makes his smirk widen behind the mask.

your eyes are glossy, chest heaving as your legs stay bent up, thighs trembling with anticipation. you should be terrified, and you are—but the heat pulsing through your core is undeniable. the sight of him towering over you with that eerie mask, black eyes hollow and unfeeling, does something sick to you.

without warning, geto pulls a another knife from behind him, the blade gleaming dangerously in the store light. you gulp hard, a whimper escaping your lips as he waves it inches from your face, the cold steel sending a wave of fear coursing through you, but it only makes your cunt throb harder.

“don’t move,” he whispers darkly, dragging the tip of the knife down your neck, making your skin break out in goosebumps. the blade hovers over your chest, your nipples hardening as he traces your curves. he presses just enough to remind you of its sharpness, enough to let you know he could cut deep at any second. the threat lingers in the air, the thrill of it making your thighs tremble.

he doesn’t hesitate when he reaches your shirt. with a quick flick of his wrist, you hear the rippppp of fabric as the blade slices your work button-up clean open, exposing your bare chest. the sharpness of the knife cutting through the material like paper sends a shiver of fear and arousal down your spine.

“cheap shit,” he sneers, but the way your nipples perk in the cool air has his cock straining even harder. his hand moves lower, the tip of the blade dragging dangerously over your trembling stomach, inching closer and closer to your cunt.

you gasp when he finally reaches your panties, the cold metal resting against the swollen lips of your pussy. “y’know. . .” he trails off, voice thick with lust as he presses the flat of the blade against your clothed clit, the cold, sharp edge making you jerk involuntarily. “never had someone so . . .desperate in their final moments.”

it’s humiliating how your clit twitches at the contact, how your cunt clenches around nothing, soaked and aching for him. he notices, of course, the way your hips twitch toward the blade, and the wetness that’s already beginning to drip down your thighs.

“fuckin’ embarrassing,” he mutters, but his voice is laced with something darker—he’s getting off on this, on how soaked you are for him. the knife slides lower, grazing your inner thigh, just shy of cutting you, the scrape of the blade against your skin sending shivers through your body. you can feel your pulse in your clit, each drag of the cold steel only making you wetter, more desperate.

“this turning you on, baby?” he asks, his voice low and mocking. you can’t even respond, too lost in the filthy heat coursing through you.

with a quick flick of his wrist, the knife slices through your panties, the sharp blade cold against your slick folds. you gasp, your pussy finally exposed, clit twitching as the cool air hits your drenched core. the knife grazes your swollen lips, barely a whisper of pressure, but it’s enough to make you moan, your cunt clenching desperately.

he hums in approval, staring down at your glistening pussy, the wetness dripping from your folds, thighs trembling as you lie there helplessly. geto’s exposed cock twitches painfully at the sight, his eyes narrowing behind the mask as he drinks in how ruined you already are.

“fuckkk,” he mumbles, voice thick with lust. he lets the knife trail up, dragging it over your clit just enough to make you gasp, the cold edge sending waves of agonizing pleasure through you.

you’re fighting the urge to touch yourself, legs trembling with need, but he’s dragging it out, watching you suffer, savoring every filthy, desperate moan that spills from your lips. your cunt clenches again, dripping, aching for more, but all he does is graze the blade over your sensitive skin, keeping you on the edge, waiting for him to finally take what’s his.

without a second thought, geto rips off the ghostface mask, revealing his face in all its sinful glory. his long black hair cascades down his back, a few loose strands framing his face just right, giving him that perfect, messy look. your heart nearly stops at the sight—those silver piercings in his lower lip glint under the lights of the CD store. fuck. your breath catches as you realize just how devastatingly hot he is, a man who could ruin you in every sense of the word.

“f-fuck, mr. ghostface. . .you’re so fucking hot,” you moan, your cunt clenching involuntarily at the sight of him. he smirks, catching your reaction instantly, bringing the blade right back to your dripping cunt, but now it’s different—now you can see every twitch of that gorgeous smirk, every glint in his wicked eyes. nothing is processing in your mind at this point. you’re too far gone, body shaking as he holds all the power over you. he could do anything right now, and you’d let him.

geto leans in, inhaling deeply, letting your scent drive him mad before diving headfirst between your thighs. his lips find your cunt with no warning, devouring you like a fucking beast. his tongue plunges into your soaked hole with reckless abandon, the wet, obscene sounds echoing through the empty store. your back arches violently against the counter, the cold glass windows around the store only barrier between you and the outside world. if anyone walked by and caught sight of this—fuck, you’d be fired in an instant. but the thrill of that thought only makes the heat in your core burn hotter.

your body reacts before your mind can catch up, hands flying to tangle in his thick, soft hair, yanking him closer. he groans deep, the sound vibrating through your clit as you pull his head in tighter. mr. ghostface loves his hair being pulled—check! you think, feeling the way his body reacts to your grip, only making him devour you more ruthlessly.

his nose nudges your clit, adding to the torment as his tongue relentlessly works your insides, the metal ball of his tongue piercing sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. it’s so nasty, so fucking loud as he slurps up your juices, the slick sound echoing around the store. you can’t believe your body is making this much of a mess, slick dripping down your thighs, pooling on the counter beneath you. you’re losing it, completely undone by how he’s devouring you.

geto’s tongue is merciless, and just when you think it can’t get any better, he brings two thick fingers to your entrance, thrusting them in deep. the stretch makes your head spin, his digits spreading you open wide as his tongue continues to work your cunt. he groans low in his throat, the vibrations sending another wave of ecstasy through your core. the sensation of his tongue, his piercing, and his fingers all working together has you seeing stars, your walls clenching around him uncontrollably.

“fuck, look at you,” he growls against your cunt, his voice muffled but still dripping with arrogance as his fingers curl inside you, finding your sweet spot instantly. your eyes roll back, legs shaking uncontrollably as the tension in your belly coils tighter. your grip on his head tightens, forcing him further into you, needing more, more of that perfect, filthy mouth. his lips close around your swollen clit, biting at it just enough to drive you insane, while his fingers pound into you relentlessly.

you catch a glimpse of his face between your thighs, his half-lidded eyes fluttering shut as a moan slips past his pierced lips, his tongue flicking out to lick your slick from the corner of his mouth like he can’t get enough. he’s completely lost in you, ruthlessly making out with your cunt, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. the sight alone nearly pushes you over the edge, your body trembling violently as you feel your orgasm building, heat burning in your stomach, your cunt clenching around his thick fingers.

“listen to how talkative she is,” geto sneers, a wicked smirk stretching across his face. without hesitation, his free hand grabs the store’s telephone, fingers working quickly to connect it to the intercom. before you can process what he’s doing, he presses the microphone right up against your drenched, sloppy cunt.

your eyes go wide in horror as the filthy, wet sloshing of your pussy echoes through the entire store. the slick, obscene sounds of your cunt squelching and dripping around his thick fingers fill the air, amplified by the speakers. every thrust makes it squirt, the embarrassing symphony of your slick coating his fingers making your stomach drop with humiliation. you’re completely exposed, the sound of your body’s desperate reactions bouncing off the store walls, reminding you just how nasty this is.

the wet slaps, the relentless gushing of your cunt, and the squelching noises leave you utterly mortified. It’s so loud, so filthy that if anyone were to walk by, they’d hear everything—and know exactly what a mess you’re making for him. every slick, nasty sound screams your shame, broadcasting to the entire store that you’re getting off to a literal serial killer!

“look at you,” geto chuckles darkly, his voice dripping with arrogance. “so fucking nasty for me. all this for a killer? huh? you like knowing what a filthy slut you are?”

geto throws the telephone, letting it dangle by the cord, before roughly flipping you onto your stomach. your feet barely touch the ground as your chest presses into the counter- bent over, giving you a full view of the empty store. his eyes darken as he takes in your position, biting his lip at the sight of your ass wiggling back, grinding against his hard cock. you can’t help but plead, your voice breathy and desperate.

“please, mr. ghostface, you’ve been sucha tease,” you whine, turning your head to watch him as he toys with his lip piercing, eyes fixed on you like he’s weighing his options. before you can beg again, he makes his choice—sliding his fat, mushroom tip past your dripping entrance. the stretch of his tip slightly burning but- oh it felt so good. your body jerks forward with the slow, agonizing thrust, his thick crownhead teasing innn and outttt of your needy, aching walls. you cry out, wanting—no, needing—more.

desperation overtakes you, and you try to fuck yourself back onto him, but his hand comes down hard, swatting your ass. the sharp sting only makes your pussy clench harder, and you hear him tut in disbelief at how filthy you’ve become for him. “unbelievable how you’re this horny,” he sneers, gripping your hips tighter as if to hold you still.

“if you’re a virgin, just say—ahh,” you taunt- gasping loudly when his fingers wrap around the back of your neck, his grip firm as he pulls you flush against his broad chest. his thick tip remains lodged inside your cunt, teasing you with how little he’s giving, yet how desperately you crave more.

he leans in close, his breath hot on your ear. “i’d love to stay and prove your point,” he purrs, eyes flicking to the front of the store, where the bright blue and red lights of approaching police cars flash in the distance. your mind is too foggy, too consumed with lust to understand what he’s hinting at. “but baby, your little coworker—the one you never bat your pretty lashes at,” he continues, his tone darkening as his grip tightens around your neck, turning your head toward the ‘employee’s only’ door.

that’s when you see it—the large, dark puddle of blood seeping from under the door, your coworker’s lifeless body hidden from view.

“i-i don’t care, i wan’ you,” you plead, tears stinging your eyes as your walls grip his girthy tip, trying to coax more from him. geto chuckles darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. he turns your head back toward the front of the store, where the police cars are getting closer. his hand slips away from your neck, leaving you trembling as he cruelly pulls his cock from your addicting cunt, leaving you empty and desperate as he swiftly tucked it back in his pants.

tears spill from your eyes as you feel him slipping away, denying you what you need. “he’s the one that ruined our fun,” geto says, his voice soft but menacing. “and sadly…” his words trail off, and you freeze as you feel the cold tip of a sharp blade pressing against your neck. you gulp hard, heart pounding as the reality of the situation sets in.

“’m really sorry, baby, but i can’t have you snitching to the police, can i?” he whispers, and with a swift motion, the blade slices cleanly across your throat. blood trickles down in a warm line, your breath catching in your chest as your body collapses to the floor. the cold tiles beneath you feel distant as your vision blurs, the last thing you see is geto standing above you, pouting as he watches the life drain from your body.

[benevolentbones]

newcomer | spencer reid x fem!reader part 2

part 1

warnings: swearing, v mild dirty thoughts

word count: 1.3k

summary: your dad calls you on your day off

a/n: thank you so so much for all the support on my last few works, it means the world!! i love reading through all the comments! please if you have a fic request please let me know!!

it had been a few days since you dropped in to visit your dad at the bau, but your mind kept wandering back to the hazel eyed man you met.

you found his awkwardness quite adorable, and the way his face flushed when you spoke to him, made you smile.

you had heard a lot about the team over the years, so it was nice to put faces to names after your father had returned home that evening.

today was your day off, and you didn’t really have many plans, maybe you’d go and grab a coffee or take a walk around the park, who knows.

you stretched back against the plush sofa in your living room, flicking through the channels on your tv.

your phone began to chime, blasting out your ringtone. you picked it up on third ring, bringing it to your ear.

“hello?”

“y/n, are you at home?” your father questioned.

“yeah dad- i’m just watching tv at the moment, what’s up?” you sat up, scooting to the edge of the couch.

“can you do me a huge favour?”

you hummed in response “what is it?”

“in my home office, i left the latest case files- would you come to the bureau and drop them off?”

you chewed your bottom lip. on one hand, you didn’t really want to drive thirty minutes to and from your dads work, just to be there for less than five minutes. on the other, those five minutes could be spent talking or spencer reid.

“i’ll be there soon, dad.” you replied, hanging up the phone.

~

you practically raced to the bureau, cutting the usual thirty plus minute drive down to twenty three. a new record.

you clutched the case files to your side, making your way inside the building and making a b line for the bullpen.

morgan, garcia and reid were all sat around spencer’s desk, the younger man rambling on about the book he had just finished reading, which was a recommendation from penelope.

“honestly the plot could have been better- and i didn’t really like the-“ spencer was interrupted with a dig from morgan, whos eyes were glued to the elevator doors of the bullpen.

“why’d you do that ow.” spencer complained, rubbing the aching spot on his forearm. he turned his gaze to where both morgan and garcia were looking.

and there you stood. you had just stepped out of the elevator, you weren’t in the same office attire you had adorned the last time you visited the bau.

you were wearing a tight pair of black jeans that flared slightly at the leg, with a striped button down fitted shirt which rode up slightly, showing off part of your midriff.

“damn little gideon is mad fine.” morgan mumbled earning a quizzical look from spencer.

“little gideon- ew is that what you’re calling her?” penelope’s face contorted into one of disgust.

“i mean, you aren’t wrong..” she added, the blonde woman was practically undressing you with her eyes.

“guys come on- that’s a bit much don’t you think?” spencer mumbled, though his eyes did not once leave your form as you walked across the room towards gideon’s office.

“you’re just saying that because you like her, ain’t that right lover boy?” morgan cracked a smile, smacking spencer on the shoulder.

“shut up man..”

“do you really think gideon would want you dating his daughter?” derek mused.

“i mean anything is better than you..” spencer mumbled jokingly.

you reached your fathers office, balancing the files in one arm while using the other to knock against the oakwood door.

“come in.”

you pushed the door open, to reveal gideon leaning back in his desk chair, case files spread across the table. he had a telephone pressed in between his ear and his shoulder.

“hey dad- i brought the files you needed.” you smiled, shuffling over to his desk and plopping the bundle of papers onto his cluttered work space.

“thanks hon, you want to wait outside? i’ll be done in a few minutes and we can grab a coffee?”

you nodded, allowing gideon to continue his phone call. you backed out of his office, walking down the steps into the main section of the bullpen.

you scanned the room, your eyes landing on the three agents huddled around spencer’s desk.

you plucked up the courage and began to saunter over to them.

“hey reid look.” penelope whispered just loud enough for spencer to hear, immediately his head shot up, his gaze softening when he realised you were making your way over to him.

“good luck tiger.” morgan grinned, both he and garcia leaving the premises upon your arrival, after giving you a small smile.

“hey dr. reid right?” you mumbled once you reached his desk.

his eyes met yours, through his wire-framed glasses, and he nodded.

“yeah- you can call me spencer though- you’re y/n? gideon’s daughter?” he stumbled upon his words, rushing the sentences together.

you hummed in response, perching yourself against the genius’ desk.

“he’s told me a lot about you.”

“all good things i hope-“ spencer began, a slight nervousness to his voice.

this made you chuckle, “yes, all good things, i promise.”

“i hope you don’t mind keeping me company, i’m just waiting for dad to get off of the phone.” you eyed spencer, watching as he frantically neatened his desk.

“no-no not at all, i’m enjoying your company.” he mumbled out.

from the corner of his eye he could see morgan and garcia watching their interaction from the kitchenette, morgan had a cocky grin plastered onto his face and garcia held her thumbs up supportively.

spencer let out a breathy sigh, slumping down into his desk chair. he pondered for a moment, considering being forward. he didn’t want to come across as too needy or awkward, but if he was being honest with himself that’s exactly what he was.

he watched as you sat on the edge of his desk, happily swinging you legs back and forth, glancing around the bullpen.

fuck it.

“y/n?” spencer began, not being able to stop the crimson staining his cheeks.

“spencer.” you giggled.

“would you, i don’t know maybe like to go for dinner sometime- with..me?” you could sense the anxiety in his voice, the brunette avoiding your gaze as he fumbled with a pen on his desk.

you felt your cheeks heat up, and you reached over to place a hand on spencer’s arm. his eyes flickered up to look at you when he felt your touch.

“i would love to, let me give you my number.” you smiled happily, jumping from the desk.

you took the pen from spencer’s grasp, your fingers brushing against his causing a spark from the contact.

you picked up a pad of sticky notes and began scribbling down your number.

as you were doing so, gideon had left his office and was making his way towards the two of you.

“here, i’m free friday if you are.” you mumbled, passing him the paper and pen back.

“o-okay i’ll call you.” spencer’s eyes were now on gideon who had come to an abrupt stop, resting his hand on your shoulder.

“lets get going, kid.”

you nodded, shooting spencer a smile. “i’ll see you soon, dr. reid.”

and with that you had walked on ahead, gideon bringing his arms into a folded position in front of his chest.

spencer swallowed hard, feeling beads of sweat build up on his forehead.

“you want to take my daughter out?”

“uh yes, yes sir-“

agent gideon pondered for a moment, eyeing the younger man. he had worked with him for a few years, he trusted him to be sensible with you, and out of everyone he was probably the best pick.

“better you than morgan.” gideon shrugged, and with that comment he followed you out the door.

[dollgxtz]

His Watchful Eye Pt.9

Word Count: 22.4k

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, possession, forced pregnancy, unwanted pregnancy, tw if u have tokophobia, mentions of rape, murder, extortion, threats, manipulation, pet names like, kitten, sweetie, honey, Xavier appears, tw vomiting, flashbacks of blood and gore, nausea, kidnapping

Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh, @eliasxchocolate, @nozomiaj, @xmiisuki, @sylus-kitten, @its-regretti , @m0onlustre , @ve1vet-cake, @letgobro, @starkeysslvt, @yarafic, @prince-nikko, @leiaglmela @connorsui, @iluvmewwwww75, @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer, @mysssticc, @babygirl-panda19, @someone-somewheres-stuff, @zaynesjasmine1, @honnylemontea, @altariasu, @the-slytherin-poet, @sorryimakira, @pearlymel, @emidpsandia , @angel-jupiter, @hwangintakswifey, @webmvie, @housesortinghat, @fading-twinkle, @shoruio, @gojos1ut, @solomonlover, @cheesenjam, @elegantnightblaze, @mavphorias, @babylavendersblog, @burntoutfrogacademic, @sinstae, @certainduckanchor, @ladyackermanisdead, @sh4nn, @milkandstarlight, @lilyadora, @depressedwhore,

AN: Hi all! This is of course on A03! I love this story so much! Each chapter is so fun to write!! The tension, the devastation. Its SO delicious!! So sorry for the late upload, I had a BUNCH of exams last week and a wedding to attend on the weekend so I couldn't just down and write. If I have u tagged here and u want to be removed from future tag lists just shoot me a dm! Enjoy my lovelies ! ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

“Eat,” he said firmly, the command in his voice clear and sharp. “I won’t repeat myself.” You froze, your breath catching in your throat. “If you kill our baby,” Sylus continued, his voice low and deliberate, “I kill him. Pretty fair, wouldn't you agree?”

Read Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.10

The towering glass building of the Hunter's Association stood like a beacon in the heart of the city, its sleek, modern architecture gleaming under the afternoon sun. The mirrored panels reflected the sprawling cityscape, a place Xavier once found familiar, even comforting. But now, as he trudged through the automatic doors, the cool blast of air conditioning hitting his face, it all felt foreign. His world had changed. The familiar sound of boots tapping on the pristine marble floors, the usual buzz of hunters and staff moving through the building, and the distant ring of telephones seemed like nothing more than a haze of noise.

His reflection caught in the glass of the lobby—he barely recognized the man staring back at him. His once well-kept appearance was gone, replaced by a man disheveled and weary. His clothes, wrinkled and stained from days on the road, clung awkwardly to his body, the fabric of his jacket creased and dusty. His hair, normally brushed neatly, now hung in messy, unkempt strands over his forehead, and the dark circles under his eyes spoke of sleepless nights and relentless mental strain.

He moved like a ghost through the lobby, ignoring the passing glances from the other hunters and staff who clearly noticed his haggard appearance. They didn’t stop him, though. They knew who he was—Xavier, one of the best hunters in the Hunters Association. An integral part of UNICORNS. He had earned his place here, had earned his own office on the upper floors. But despite his reputation, today he felt like a shell of the man he used to be.

His boots made a heavy thud with each step as he headed directly for the elevator. The metallic doors slid open with a soft chime, and he stepped inside, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on him as the doors shut, sealing him away from the noise of the lobby. The elevator began its slow ascent, the soft hum of the machinery doing little to quiet his thoughts. His hand slipped into his jacket pocket, his fingers curling around the small, inconspicuous sim card. It was a simple object, barely noticeable to anyone else, but to him, it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

This is it, he thought. This is what might finally give me the answers I need. The answers I’m terrified to find.

The memory of the last few weeks gnawed at him. Even having escaped the N109 Zone the memories had been a blur of desperation, exhaustion, and haunting questions. Where are you? What happened to you? And why had Skye tried to kill him? The silence, the emptiness he felt without you, was unbearable. But what gnawed at him more than anything was the creeping dread in the back of his mind—the fear that he was already too late.

The elevator dinged softly as it reached his floor, snapping him from his thoughts. The doors slid open, revealing the long, pristine hallway of the upper offices. Xavier wasted no time, his legs moving mechanically as he headed straight for his office. The lights overhead flickered ever so slightly, casting long, sharp shadows across the floor as he walked, his pace quickening with every step.

But before he could reach the safety of his office, a familiar voice cut through the air.

“Xavier?”

He froze mid-step, his body tensing involuntarily. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. He could already picture her—bright-eyed, curious, and always full of questions.

Sure enough, when he turned, there she was—Tara. Her short brown hair, usually neatly styled, bounced slightly as she hurried toward him, her eyes wide with a mixture of relief and concern. She was one of the few coworkers who always made a point of checking in on him, though at times, her bubbly personality felt overwhelming. Today was no exception.

“Xavier!” she called again, picking up her pace. “Oh my God, where have you been? We haven’t seen you in forever! You just disappeared, and everyone’s been asking about you, wondering if you were okay. I thought you might have left like—”

He raised a hand, cutting her off before she could finish. His voice was strained, and though he tried to keep it steady, there was an unmistakable edge of exhaustion in it. “Tara, I’m sorry. I really am. But I need to get to my office. I can’t explain anything right now.”

Tara’s face fell slightly, her eyes scanning his face, her brow furrowing as she took in his disheveled appearance. It was clear she wanted to press further, but something in his tone, or maybe the haunted look in his eyes, stopped her. She shifted awkwardly on her feet, biting her lower lip as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice softer now, filled with genuine concern. “I mean…you don’t look so good.”

Xavier forced a small, tight-lipped smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll be fine. Just…I just need some time.”

Before she could say anything more, he nodded to her and brushed past, his heart racing as he made his way down the hall. He could feel her eyes on him as he walked away, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. Not now. Not when he was this close.

Finally, he reached the door to his office, his sanctuary. His hand trembled slightly as he pushed the door open and stepped inside. The familiar scent of ink and printed paper greeted him, a scent that used to bring comfort but now felt cold, distant. The door clicked shut behind him, sealing him off from the world outside.

For a moment, he just stood there, leaning back against the door, his chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. The weight of the last few weeks, of everything he’d been through, came crashing down on him all at once. He ran a hand through his hair, gripping the back of his neck as he tried to steady himself. Focus, Xavier. Focus.

His eyes scanned the room—his desk, cluttered with papers and old case files, the soft leather chair in the corner, and the wide windows that let in far too much light. He needed darkness, quiet, space to think. Without hesitation, he moved toward the windows and drew the blinds shut, plunging the room into a muted, shadowy haze. The soft hum of the city outside was muffled now, replaced by the stillness of the office. He flicked off the overhead lights, leaving only the dim glow of his computer screen.

It was just him and the SIM card now.

He dropped into the chair behind his desk, his body sinking into the worn leather as he pulled the small chip from his pocket. It sat there on the desk in front of him, almost mocking him with its simplicity. How could something so small hold the answers to everything? How could it carry the weight of his hope and fear all at once?

His fingers trembled slightly as he picked it up, turning it over in his hand, his thumb brushing against the smooth surface. This is it, he reminded himself. This is how I find out what happened to her.

Xavier inserted the sim card into the slot on his computer, the holographic screen flickering to life above his head as the files began to load. His heart pounded in his chest, each second feeling like an eternity as he waited for the data to appear.

The room seemed to shrink around him, the air growing heavy as his eyes locked onto the screen. His breath hitched, his fingers tightening around the edge of the desk.

Please. Please let this tell me something. Let it lead me to her.

The files loaded slowly, the progress bar inching forward at an agonizingly slow pace. Each second felt like an eternity, the air in the room growing heavier as Xavier leaned closer to the screen, his heart pounding in his chest. His fingers drummed impatiently against the edge of the desk, a nervous rhythm that barely kept his panic at bay. This has to work. This has to show me something—anything.

But when the files finally opened, the first thing he noticed was the dull red warning message flashing on the screen: FILE CORRUPTED.

Xavier froze.

He blinked, staring at the message as though it might change if he looked at it long enough. Then, with a shaky breath, he clicked on the first file, hoping against hope that the system had made a mistake. But the message was clear: Corrupted. Unreadable.

His stomach twisted as a wave of cold dread washed over him. No… No, this can’t be right. Not now. Not after everything.

He clicked on another file. Corrupted.

Then another. Corrupted.

And another. Corrupted.

His fingers moved faster, more frantically now, clicking through the list, trying to find anything that wasn’t destroyed. But the same message greeted him every time. The red text burned into his eyes, taunting him with every click. He felt like the ground was being pulled out from under him, the desperation clawing at his chest, making it harder to breathe.

How? His mind raced, scrambling for an explanation. How could this have happened?

His thoughts spiraled. Was the sim card programmed to destroy its contents once removed? The possibility made his blood run cold. He had been so careful, so sure that this card would give him the answers he needed. And now it was slipping through his fingers.

Xavier's hand clenched into a fist, his knuckles white as he pounded the desk in frustration. "No..." His voice was a harsh whisper, barely able to contain the anger bubbling up inside him. His vision blurred for a moment, the weight of everything crashing down on him in a wave of helplessness.

This can’t be happening. Not now. Not when I’m so close.

He could feel his pulse racing, his heart pounding in his chest, faster and faster as the panic settled deeper into his bones. His mouth was dry, and his breath came in shallow, uneven bursts as he tried to hold himself together. The room felt smaller, darker, like the walls were closing in around him. The light from the computer screen flickered against his face, casting shadows under his eyes, deepening the lines of exhaustion and frustration etched into his skin.

I can’t lose this. I can’t lose her.

The thoughts came unbidden, swirling in his mind like a storm. He had been so sure this card would lead him to you—that it would show him where you were, what had happened. He had imagined this moment so many times, but now, all that hope was unraveling, torn apart by a series of corrupted files. And it felt like his last chance was slipping away right in front of him.

No. No, I won’t let this happen.

His fingers flew across the keyboard, clicking open every file he could find, his breath catching in his throat each time the same corrupted message popped up. With each failed attempt, the panic inside him grew, his heart hammering wildly as frustration gave way to desperation.

His mind raced, grasping for a solution. There had to be something he could do—something to fix this. He wasn’t about to give up, not now, not when you were still out there, waiting for him to find you. His eyes darted to the screen, scanning for anything that could help, his mind reeling, searching for an answer through the haze of fear clouding his thoughts.

And then, a flicker of hope.

He remembered the program. A faint memory, tucked away in the back of his mind—a file recovery tool buried somewhere deep within his system. It wasn’t something he used often, but it was there. His heart skipped a beat, the sliver of hope cutting through the rising panic. Yes. That’s it.

Without hesitating, he pulled up the program, his fingers trembling slightly as he typed in the command to search for the corrupted files. The familiar blue loading screen appeared, and for a moment, Xavier felt the breath he had been holding slowly release. But it wasn’t over yet. He still had to wait. The program would take time to scan the files, to see if it could recover anything usable.

Seconds stretched into minutes, and each tick of the clock felt like another weight pressing down on his chest. He sat back in his chair, staring at the spinning loading icon on the screen, willing it to move faster, to show him something—anything that could give him the answers he so desperately needed.

His leg bounced under the desk, a nervous habit he hadn’t been able to shake for days now. The anxiety clawed at him, making it impossible to sit still. His mind was racing again, fear and hope warring inside him, a toxic mix that made his stomach churn.

What if this didn’t work? What if the files were too damaged to recover? What if—what if he never found out what happened to you?

Stop it. Don’t think like that. He gritted his teeth, trying to shove the doubts out of his mind. He couldn’t afford to lose hope now. He had come too far, and he couldn’t let himself break. Not yet.

The program beeped softly, breaking the silence of the room. Xavier leaned forward, his heart thudding against his ribs as the first of the recovered files appeared on the screen. His fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment, his pulse racing in anticipation.

Please...let this work.

He clicked on the file, holding his breath as it opened, the screen flickering before finally stabilizing. His eyes scanned the first few lines of data, and for the first time in hours, a glimmer of hope sparked in his chest.

There it was. Not everything—far from it—but there was something. Something he could use.

His breath hitched as he leaned in closer, his eyes locking onto the details flashing across the screen. The tension in his body didn’t ease, but the panic that had threatened to overtake him was starting to ebb, replaced by a grim determination.

The first recovered file blinked to life on Xavier’s screen, and for a moment, his heart slowed its frantic pace. This is it, he thought, leaning forward, eyes fixed on the video as the grainy footage loaded. The room was cloaked in shadow, his breath the only sound breaking the silence. His hands hovered over the keyboard, fingers still trembling slightly, half out of exhaustion and half from anticipation.

But as the video began to play, the tension in his body didn’t ease—it only deepened.

The screen flickered with the image of a familiar dimly lit, grimy basement. The walls were old, stained with mold and years of neglect. The camera was positioned at an angle, casting shadows that made the space look even more claustrophobic. But that wasn’t what made Xavier’s stomach twist. It wasn’t you in the video. His breath caught in his throat as the scene unfolded, confusion clouding his mind.

A girl—blonde, young, and panicked—was being dragged into the room by a shoddy-looking man. Her limbs flailed wildly, her voice sharp with terror and rage.

"Fuck you, Reese! Let go!" she screamed, her voice raw, the words tearing through the oppressive silence of the basement.

Xavier’s eyes narrowed, his pulse quickening as he watched the man—Reese, apparently—roughly shove her onto a dingy, stained bed in the corner. The blonde girl gasped as she hit the mattress, her breaths coming in panicked bursts, her chest heaving. Her face contorted in fury and fear as she glared at the man who stood a few feet away, shaking like a leaf, as though he was caught between shame and desperation.

Reese, the man responsible for dragging this girl down here, opened his mouth but struggled to speak. “I’m… I’m sorry,” he muttered, voice cracking with guilt and fear. His hands trembled as he backed away from the bed, eyes wide, like he didn’t know how he had ended up in this situation either.

Xavier’s mind raced, his thoughts scrambling to make sense of what he was seeing. He had heard the name Reese before. It had come up when he questioned the shoe clerks in the N109 Zone. He knew that you had been with Reese at some point—that much was clear. But this...this wasn’t you.

Who the hell was this girl? Why was she in the same basement?

Xavier clicked on the fast-forward button, his hand shaky as he tried to piece together what he was watching. The blonde girl, still hyperventilating, curled into herself on the bed, her hands gripping the fabric of her clothes as if she could disappear into the mattress. The fear on her face was palpable, and Xavier felt a sickening knot form in his stomach as he imagined what was going through her mind in those moments.

What's happening? His mind spun with questions, but there were no answers—not yet. He fast-forwarded again, his anxiety growing with each passing second. Days seemed to pass, the lighting in the basement changing subtly as time wore on. The girl’s resistance dulled, her movements slower, her body slumping as though she had lost the will to fight back.

And then they came back.

Xavier's breath hitched as Reese appeared once more, but this time he wasn’t alone. His heart dropped as he recognized the second figure—her. The cold, sharp-eyed woman with dark hair tied into a strict bun, dressed in business casual attire. Xavier had seen her before. He remembered her face clearly, down in that same basement when he had been searching for you, when she had tricked him and escaped before answering more of his questions. She was a predator in a sleek package, her eyes devoid of warmth or sympathy.

A traitor to her own gender.

The blonde girl jolted when she saw them, her fear reigniting, her voice cracking as she screamed. “No! Please! Leave me alone!” She scrambled to the head of the bed, pressing herself into the wall as if she could sink through it and escape.

The dark-haired woman didn’t flinch. Her voice was smooth, cold, clinical. “We’ll see if she’s a match, Reese. If she’s not…” She trailed off, inspecting her nails as though the girl’s fate was of no consequence to her. “…you can give her to Damien for...y’know.”

Xavier’s blood ran cold at her words. Damien? The name made his stomach churn with anger and disgust. His grip tightened on the edge of the desk, his knuckles white as he leaned in closer to the screen, his mind now spinning with dread. This was more than just a kidnapping—more than just a rescue mission. There was something deeper, something more sinister lurking beneath the surface of all this.

Reese mumbled something under his breath, barely audible over the girl’s terrified sobs. His hands shook as he backed away from the bed again, leaving the girl in the cold, uncaring grip of the woman with the dark hair. She stepped forward, cold and methodical, holding out a syringe as though it was just another day at the office.

The blonde girl screamed as they took a blood sample, the needle piercing her skin. Her eyes were wide, wild, filled with the horror of not understanding what was happening to her but knowing that it was something dark, something she couldn’t escape. Xavier’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding as he watched the scene unfold. The helplessness in the girl’s eyes echoed the same helplessness he felt now—watching, unable to intervene, unable to stop what was happening.

The video blurred again as Xavier fast-forwarded, skipping through more days, more moments of isolation and fear. The blonde girl’s spirit, once fiery and defiant, began to erode. By the time the dark-haired woman returned with Reese days later, her demeanor had changed entirely. She wasn’t fighting anymore. Instead, she lay curled on the bed, tears streaming down her face, silent sobs shaking her body.

The cold woman sighed, almost bored. “You’re useless to me. But hey, you’re a woman,” she said, her voice dripping with casual cruelty. “Maybe you can seduce Damien for your freedom.” The words hung in the air like poison, and the blonde girl let out a wretched scream, her body convulsing with panic as Reese grabbed her again, dragging her off the bed and toward the stairs.

Xavier’s heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in short, angry bursts. What the hell is this? His mind was racing, the implications of what he was seeing burning through him like wildfire. This wasn’t just about you. This wasn’t just a random guy that you had gone with. This was part of something bigger, something darker than he had ever imagined.

And yet, even as the video ended—cutting off abruptly as Reese pulled the screaming girl up the stairs—one thought dominated his mind.

Where were you?

His hands shook as he closed the corrupted file, his jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. His mind spun with questions, but no answers came. Who was this girl? Was she still alive? Had Reese given her to Damien like they suggested? A dark chill crawled up Xavier’s spine. His thoughts twisted and darkened as he remembered the basement when he had first been there—when he had been searching for you.

Reese had been dead when I searched that basement.

A sudden, horrifying thought pierced through him like a dagger.

Did Reese let this 'Damien' hurt you?

His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, everything went still. The room, the air, the soft hum of the computer—it all faded into the background. A single thought rang in his mind, louder than anything else. Was Damien involved with what happened to you?

Xavier swallowed hard, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as the tension mounted inside him. His eyes darted back to the screen, scanning the list of recovered files with a sense of rising urgency. He had to find your video. He had to know what happened to you. His breath came quicker, more shallow as he clicked on the next file, praying that this time—this time—it would show him the truth.

Xavier’s hands moved frantically across the keyboard, clicking through file after file. Each video that played on the screen sent another wave of nausea crashing through him. Each one showed a different girl—each of them dragged into that same dingy basement by Reese. Their screams echoed in his ears, the fear in their eyes burning into his memory, but none of them were you.

His stomach churned violently as the helplessness clawed at his insides. He could barely keep his breathing steady, each breath shallow and strained. The flickering images on the screen felt like a nightmare he couldn’t wake from. He was so close, yet so far. With every corrupted file, every unfamiliar face, the weight of dread settled deeper into his bones. Where are you? His mind screamed, hands gripping the edges of his desk until his knuckles turned white.

He clicked on another file. Another girl. Not you.

His jaw clenched as he forced himself to click through the next video. Still not you.

Sweat beaded on his forehead, his heart thudding in his chest like a war drum, each beat harder than the last. The urge to smash everything on his desk was almost unbearable, but he kept moving, his desperation growing with every passing second. Each wrong file felt like a stab to his gut. The girls all looked terrified—some bruised, some screaming, others had already given up—but it wasn’t you. His vision blurred for a moment, frustration and fear clouding his thoughts.

Then, he clicked the last file.

For a split second, he hesitated. His heart was in his throat, the weight of all his hopes and fears balancing on this one moment. Please. Please be her. The screen flickered, and then—your features came into view.

Xavier exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

It’s you.

The relief was so intense it nearly knocked the wind out of him. He felt his entire body sag forward, his muscles trembling as he sat frozen in his chair, staring at the screen. He hadn’t seen you in what felt like forever, but there you were, in the same filthy basement he’d seen in the other videos. But something was wrong. So very, very wrong.

You looked… worse for wear. Even through the grainy footage, it was clear you hadn’t been eating well—your face was more gaunt than he remembered, your cheeks hollow, and your body seemed frail, weaker than it ever should have been. Your hair, once well-kept, now hung in matted strands, clinging to your face as though it hadn’t been washed in days. Your eyes wide with shock. His heart broke at the sight, a heaviness settling into his chest that made it hard to breathe.

He could barely hold it together as he watched you struggle. There you were, the person he’d been so desperate to find, trapped in that godforsaken basement. His eyes stung, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. He wanted to be there, to protect you, but he was stuck watching, helpless on the other side of a screen.

The camera trembled slightly as two figures came into view—Reese, and another man Xavier didn’t recognize. The stranger was larger, more menacing, and as they manhandled you, dragging you toward the wall, Xavier felt the white-hot surge of anger flare through him.

He watched as the man pushed you roughly against the cold stone wall, your body slumping on impact. You struggled, arms flailing as you tried to fight back, your voice strained and frantic. The unfamiliar man approached you, his face twisted with a sickening grin, and before Xavier could even process it, the man’s hands were all over you, feeling you up.

“Get off her!” Xavier hissed under his breath, his fingers tightening so hard around the arms of his chair that he thought the metal might snap. His body tensed, every muscle coiled with the instinct to protect you, to tear the man away from you. But he was powerless—stuck watching, his heart pounding in his ears, every second feeling like a lifetime.

Your voice cut through the chaos. “I'm bleeding! I’m on my period!” you screamed, desperation thick in your voice.

Xavier froze, eyes wide as the stranger’s hands recoiled. The man grimaced, backing off like a coward, muttering something inaudible as he stepped away from you. Xavier felt a surge of relief—so intense that he almost thought it was over. But then his stomach turned, realizing just how close you had come to something worse.

The relief didn’t last long. He watched, his breath shallow, as he dragged you over to a dingy showerhead in the corner of the room. The rusted metal clung to the grimy tile, the smell of mildew practically radiating through the screen. You were shoved under the cold spray, and when the icy water hit your body, you didn’t scream. You didn’t cry out. You trembled, your whole frame shaking violently as the freezing water soaked through your clothes, your hair plastering to your skull.

Xavier’s chest tightened painfully. You were silent, but your body was wracked with shivers, your shoulders shaking as the water poured down over you. Why aren’t you fighting? he thought, his heart breaking with every second that passed. Why aren’t you screaming?

He could see it, the exhaustion that had settled into you, the hopelessness. The strength you usually had was slipping away, replaced by the toll of captivity and cruelty. His fists clenched, the rage boiling under his skin as he watched the stranger turn off the water and leave you there—helpless, wet, and shivering on the cold basement floor.

Xavier’s breath hitched, his throat closing up as he watched you desperately try to catch your breath, your body trembling uncontrollably. Then, slowly, your eyes fluttered shut, your head lolling forward as your body went limp. You collapsed—passed out from sheer exhaustion, from the cold, from everything they had done to you.

A single tear slid down Xavier’s cheek, though he didn’t realize it was there at first. The wet warmth caught him by surprise, and he wiped it away quickly, frustration twisting inside him like a knife. He couldn’t stop watching—he couldn’t turn away. Even though every second felt like it was cutting deeper into him, he couldn’t tear his eyes from the screen. He needed to know what had happened. He needed to know everything.

The screen flickered slightly as the footage continued. Reese appeared again, but this time he was alone. His hands were full—clothes and pads, probably for you. Xavier’s teeth ground together, a sickening feeling settling in the pit of his stomach as he watched Reese step cautiously toward the bed. Your body still lay there, unconscious, cold, vulnerable.

Reese didn’t move for a long moment, just standing there, staring at your unmoving form. He seemed torn—his face twisted with guilt, fear, maybe even shame. His eyes flickered to your face, and Xavier’s pulse quickened. The tension in his body coiled tighter, a knot of rage and anxiety constricting his chest.

Then, slowly, Reese stepped closer to you. His hand extended, trembling as he reached toward your face, his fingers hovering just above your cheek. No. Don’t touch her. Xavier’s mind screamed the words, his hands gripping the sides of his chair so hard that his nails dug into the leather, leaving deep grooves. He could feel the blood rushing in his ears, his muscles straining as though he might actually break through the screen and stop him.

But then Reese hesitated. His hand hovered for a moment longer before he pulled back, taking a deep, shaky breath. Xavier’s heart pounded in his chest, his relief palpable—but it did nothing to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him.

Reese placed the clothes on the bed across from you, his eyes still fixed on your face, but he didn’t touch you. He stepped away, leaving you there, still unconscious, still shivering slightly. Xavier’s breath came out in a ragged sigh, his body trembling with the overwhelming flood of emotions that he could barely keep in check.

But this wasn’t over. He knew it wasn’t over.

Xavier leaned forward, wiping another tear from his cheek as he narrowed his eyes at the screen. He had to keep going. He had to see what happened next. He had to know. He had to find out everything.

Xavier watched as the video played on, his entire body locked in place, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen. He could barely breathe as the image flickered and your figure stirred, your body shifting slowly on the cold, hard ground. The way you moved, every inch of your body screaming exhaustion, made his heart sink. You looked like a shell of yourself, like every ounce of strength had been drained from you, leaving only a frail, weakened version of the person he once knew.

He watched as you struggled to sit up, your soaked nightgown clinging to your body like a lead weight, dragging you down. Your hands trembled as you pushed yourself up, your hair soaked, wet strands sticking to your face, your breaths shallow and labored. His fingers tightened on the edges of the desk, his heart aching at the sight of you. Every movement looked painful—every breath an effort.

Come on… please… just get up, he thought, willing you to find the strength to keep moving, to fight back against the hell you were trapped in.

Slowly, you managed to rise to your feet, your knees wobbling slightly as you reached for the clothes Reese had left behind. You dressed in silence, your movements sluggish, like you were on the verge of collapse. The sight of you changing, of slipping into the dry clothes, should have brought Xavier some relief, but it didn’t. If anything, it made his stomach churn with dread. He could see it in your face—the numbness, the exhaustion, the sheer hopelessness that seemed to radiate from your every gesture.

You don’t deserve this. None of this, Xavier thought, his throat tightening as a lump of guilt settled deep in his chest.

Then, something shifted. You glanced up toward the stairs, your expression tense, wary, like you were planning something. For a moment, a flicker of hope sparked in Xavier’s chest as he watched you move toward the steps, your eyes focused on the large hatch at the top. Were you trying to escape? He leaned forward in his seat, his breath held as you reached the hatch leaning against it, your breath ragged

Come on. You can do this. Try and open it baby.

But then, you froze. Your head jerked up, eyes wide, and without warning, you bolted back down the stairs, your feet nearly slipping on the slick floor as you dove under the bed, hiding like a frightened animal. Xavier’s heart stuttered, his breath catching in his throat.

What’s wrong? Why are you hiding?

His pulse pounded in his ears as the camera trembled slightly, picking up the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching the basement. Heavy, deliberate footsteps—multiple sets, moving in sync. His heart sank deeper into his stomach, his gut twisting with dread as three figures came into view: Reese, the cold-eyed woman with dark hair—the same woman who had haunted his thoughts since that first encounter—and another man, unfamiliar, likely one of their henchmen.

The air felt suffocating as the henchman crouched down beside the bed, his meaty hand reaching under and grabbing you roughly by the arm. Xavier’s stomach lurched as he watched you struggle, but it was no use. The man yanked you out from under the bed, your body hitting the floor with a dull thud as he dragged you to your feet.

“No, no, no…” Xavier whispered under his breath, his chest tightening as he watched helplessly from behind the screen. His hands gripped the armrests of his chair, his knuckles white with tension. His skin crawled with anxiety, his mind screaming for you to fight, to resist, to do anything to stop this from happening.

The woman stepped forward, her face a mask of cold indifference as she looked down at you, her eyes sharp and calculating. Dialogue is exchanged that he cant quite hear but he manages to make out a few sentences.

“We don’t know for sure if you’re a match yet,” the woman said, almost thoughtfully. “But you're a woman, so that's already one criteria met. And it’s just a matter of time before we find out the second.”

Xavier’s jaw clenched. A match? For what? What kind of sick, twisted operation was this? His mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of the nightmare unfolding in front of him. She had mentioned you were a match back in the basement. Was this what she was referring to? He felt the bile rise in his throat as the woman produced a syringe from her coat pocket, her movements mechanical, practiced. She didn’t care about you. You were nothing but a commodity to her—just another body, another possible match.

He leaned closer to the screen, his breath coming faster, harder. “No! Don’t give in!” he screamed in his mind, wishing with every fiber of his being that you could hear him. Fight! Stab her with it!

But you didn’t.

You just…obeyed.

Your arm trembled as you extended it toward the woman, too weak, too exhausted to fight back. Your eyes were dull, drained of the fire he knew you once had. Xavier felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest as he watched you give in, letting them take the blood sample without resistance. He wanted to scream, to throw something, to punch through the screen. This isn’t you. You were always so strong. So fierce. What did they do to you?

But he knew the truth. He could see it in your body language, in the slump of your shoulders. You had been beaten down, worn away by days of captivity. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. Not from here. His helplessness gnawed at him, threatening to overwhelm him.

After taking the sample, the woman glanced at the henchman and hands it to him. He leaves and the woman stayed behind, her eyes never leaving you. “Now we wait,” she said, crossing her arms. “If you’re lucky, you won’t be a match. But if you are… well, we’ll be in touch.”

She exchanges a few words with Reese before making her way up the stairs, heels clacking as she walks back up.

But Reese didn’t follow. He lingered behind, his eyes avoiding yours. And then you snapped. You start yelling about how you had trusted him.

"I trusted you!" you shouted, your voice growing louder, the raw emotion burning through your exhaustion. "I told you everything—I told you about my escape, I thought you were trying to help me!"

Your words were heavy with betrayal, each syllable cutting through the silence like a knife. Xavier’s heart twisted painfully in his chest. He remembered your voice on the phone—the trust in your words when you mentioned Reese. You had believed in him. You had gone with him because you thought he would protect you.

I should have told you not to go. I should have warned you. Guilt flooded through Xavier, choking him. I thought you’d be okay. I thought I’d find you in time.

Reese flinched under your words, his hands shaking at his sides. He couldn’t even meet your eyes as you continued to hurl your accusations at him. He looked every bit the coward, standing there, unable to face the truth of what he’d done to you. He babbles some excuses about how he had to do what he did. But you weren't having it. How he thought you would be dumped like the others. How he didn't know about the organ trafficking.

Xavier scoffed. A coward and a liar this guy was.

“I’m sorry,” he says, seemingly all he can mutter after all that.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he turned and walked out, leaving you alone in the cold, empty room.

Xavier’s chest heaved with labored breaths as he watched you slide down the wall, your body shaking with silent sobs. His heart ached, the guilt and anger mixing into a storm of emotions that he couldn’t contain. He wanted to reach through the screen, to hold you, to tell you he was coming.

I’m so sorry. I’ll make this right. I swear.

The video continued, the next few days slipping by in a blur of monotony. Reese came and went, bringing you food, but he said nothing. He was silent, avoiding your gaze, avoiding confrontation. And you—you barely moved. You spent most of your time sleeping, your body too exhausted, too worn down to fight anymore. Xavier’s stomach churned as he realized how deeply this place had broken you.

But then… something changed.

His eyes widened as a familiar figure appeared on the screen. The same man who had groped you when you had first arrived in the basement, his expression dark, predatory. Xavier’s blood ran cold as the man descended the stairs, his eyes fixed on your sleeping form.

No…no…not again.

You stirred, your body tensing the moment you saw him. The tension in the air was palpable. Xavier could feel it in his bones, the dread creeping up his spine as the man stalked toward you. His lips moved, saying something to you, but the audio was too muffled to make out the words. Whatever he said, it made your body stiffen with fear as he grabbed your arm.

Then, without warning, the man lunged forward, grabbing you tighter and slamming you into the mattress.

Xavier’s vision blurred with red. His heart pounded in his ears as rage surged through him like a wildfire. He gripped the edge of the desk so hard his knuckles turned white, his teeth grinding together as he watched you fight like hell. You kicked, you scratched, you screamed—but it wasn’t enough. The man was too strong. He pinned you down, his hands tearing at your clothes, ripping your sweatpants off with vicious intent.

“No...” Xavier hissed, slamming his fist into the desk. He couldn’t watch this. He couldn’t watch you be violated like this. His eyes squeezed shut, but he couldn’t stop himself from listening, every sound making his blood boil, the anger roaring in his mind like an unstoppable storm.

He could hear the man struggling—his heavy breathing, the sound of fabric tearing, your muffled cries. Every second felt like an eternity. Xavier’s entire body trembled with fury, his mind screaming at him to do something, but he was powerless.

And then he heard it.

Your voice, soft, almost a whisper. He couldn’t make out what you said, but the words were enough to anger the man on top of you He seems like he's about to hit you, and then—

"Is that anyway to talk to a lady?"

The man was frozen, is facing twisting in shock before he was suddenly flung off of you, his body slamming into the wall with a sickening crunch. His screams filled the air, a sound so satisfying that it almost drowned out the confusion that followed.

Xavier’s eyes snapped open, his breath catching in his throat. What the hell just happened?

And then he saw him.

A tall man, dressed in dark clothes, his face somewhat shadowed by the dim lighting of the basement. His presence was commanding, intimidating—and immediately recognizable. The white grayish hair, terrifying demeanor, crimson blood colored eye.

Skye.

Xavier’s heart lurched. What the hell was he doing there?

Xavier’s breath caught in his throat as the figure of Skye moved toward you, his tall, dark silhouette looming in the dim light of the basement. His walk was calm, casual, as though he hadn’t just flung a man across the room like a ragdoll. There was a glint of amusement in his eyes as he stopped in front of you, his lips twitching upward in a half-smile.

But what shook Xavier to his core wasn’t just Skye’s appearance. It was your reaction.

You scrambled to pull your clothes back on, the shock evident on your face, but there was something else in your expression that made Xavier’s stomach twist. You didn’t look confused. You didn’t look like you had just been saved by a stranger. There was familiarity there—recognition. And then you spoke, your voice shaky but not surprised.

“What took you so long?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Xavier’s heart skipped a beat. What?

Skye chuckled softly, his voice low and almost teasing. “Is this the thanks I get, kitten?” He glanced back at the man crumpled against the wall, a smug grin playing on his lips.

"I save you, and all you’ve got is attitude?" Skye raises an eyebrow, the smirk on his lips widening as if he’s enjoying this far too much. “You’re getting harder to please.”

Xavier’s mind reeled, his thoughts scrambling to make sense of what he was seeing, what he was hearing. You knew him? The question burned in his chest, but before he could fully process it, another sound drew his attention.

There was a loud thud as Reese came tumbling down the stairs, his body rolling helplessly until he landed face-first on the cold stone floor. Behind him, two figures with bird-like masks giggled, nudging each other proudly.

"We got him, boss," one of them chirped, his voice muffled behind the mask. "Tried to run, but he fell flat on his face." He punctuates his words with another casual kick to Reese's side. "Much like he did just now."

Reese groaned, struggling to push himself up, but when he finally lifted his head, his eyes went wide with terror. He looked past the masked figures, past you, and his gaze landed on Skye. His entire body trembled, and Xavier could see the exact moment the fear set in, the moment Reese understood who he was facing.

“Sylus…” Reese breathed, his voice trembling as he tried to scoot backward, his limbs shaking. “You…you ran away from Sylus?”

The name sent a bolt of electricity through Xavier’s body, freezing him in place. His entire world seemed to tilt on its axis, the ground falling away beneath him. Sylus. The name echoed in his mind, a name he had heard whispered in fear, a name spoken with the kind of reverence reserved for monsters and myths. The ruler of the N109 Zone. The feared leader of Onychinus.

And now, that man—the man who had offered him a ride, the same man who had tried to kill him and stage it as a car crash—was standing right there, in the same room as you. Sylus.

The reality of it hit him like a punch to the gut. This is Sylus?

His breath quickened, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts at once. Sylus—he’s been the one all along. The man with the charm, the mystery. The one who played me for a fool and tried to end my life. He remembered their conversation in the car, the way Sylus had studied him, like he was nothing more than a pawn in some twisted game. And now, here he was, standing over you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

The audio cuts out briefly, some words being exchanged between you and Sylus before it comes back in clearly. A black crow had materialized on his shoulder, and Reese seemed confused that the crows name was Mephisto. Sylus snapped at him, seemingly annoyed he was attempting to talk to you.

Sylus’s dark eyes flicked back toward you, his expression softening in a way that made Xavier’s stomach churn. He watched as Sylus crouched down in front of you, his tall frame looming over you but his movements gentle, controlled. You seemed to be spiraling. There was something possessive in the way he moved, the way he reached out to you.

“Shh, kitten,” Sylus murmured, his voice soft but commanding. “It’s alright. I found you.”

Xavier’s heart pounded in his chest, his throat tight. Kitten? The term dripped with intimacy, with ownership. He watched in horror as you didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. You just stared at Sylus, your eyes wide with a mix of emotions—fear, confusion, and something else Xavier couldn’t quite place. Tears welled in your eyes, but you didn’t try to push him away. You didn’t run. You just trembled there, your body torn between exhaustion and emotion.

Sylus leaned in closer, his dark gaze locking onto yours. “You’re mine again,” he whispered, his voice a possessive growl that made the hairs on Xavier’s neck stand on end. “Don’t cry. Not now. Not in front of them.”

Xavier’s breath hitched, his body trembling with a combination of fear and fury. Yours? The word echoed in his mind, and he couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of dread that came with it. Sylus just called you his. And you…you weren’t fighting it. You weren’t pulling away. Xavier’s mind spun with confusion, with disbelief. He could barely make sense of what was happening.

Xavier’s hands gripped the sides of his chair, his knuckles turning white with the strain. No…no, this can’t be happening. The tenderness in Sylus’s voice, the way he looked at you like you were the center of his universe—it made Xavier’s stomach twist with anger. You were his. How dare this man—this monster—claim you?

But then, something else drew his attention.

A blood-curdling scream filled the basement, shattering the stillness. Xavier’s eyes snapped to the figures on the other side of the room. Reese and the henchman were writhing in agony, Reese's body contorted with pain as he was slammed into the wall, their screams echoing through the small, claustrophobic space. But Sylus… Sylus didn’t even look at them. He didn’t flinch, didn’t move. His attention stayed fixed on you, his hand gently wiping the tears from your cheeks as though nothing else in the world mattered.

“Don’t look at them,” Sylus murmured softly, his voice soothing yet firm. His fingers brushed over your face, gently cradling your chin and turning your gaze back to him. “Look at me.”

Xavier felt like he couldn’t breathe, his heart racing as his mind struggled to process everything. Sylus was ignoring the carnage behind him, the screams of the men he was torturing, and was focused entirely on you. It was as if you were the only thing that mattered to him, as if the world outside of you didn’t exist.

His eyes stayed locked on the screen, unable to look away as Sylus reached out, his hand moving gently to your face. “Look at me,” he whispered, his voice dripping with a dark intimacy. “Your tears, your pain, your misery…it all belongs to me.”

"I’m the only one, who gets to see you cry."

Xavier’s pulse pounded in his ears, his skin crawling as he watched Sylus’s possessive, gentle touch. The man was a predator, but the way he handled you, the way he spoke to you, was so calm, so assured, like you were his most valuable possession. And what frightened Xavier the most was that you weren’t fighting him. You were letting him soothe you. You were letting him touch you.

Before Xavier could even begin to process the horror of what he was seeing, another voice broke through the tension.

“Please, make him stop! Ask him to stop!”

Xavier’s gaze snapped to Reese, his blood boiling. The coward was begging for his life, his body curled up against the wall, his eyes wide with terror. But it was your face that made Xavier’s heart ache. Your expression had hardened, your fear melting away into cold resolve. You stared at Reese, your lips curling into a sneer. The audio cuts out briefly before it comes back again.

“Go to hell, Reese,” you spat, your voice sharp and final.

A sickening crack followed, and before Xavier even had time to register what was happening, Sylus calmly stood up. He reached into his coat, pulling out a sleek black pistol. With smooth, practiced movements, he aimed the weapon at Reese without even blinking.

Xavier’s breath caught in his throat, his entire body tensing.

BANG.

Reese’s head snapped back as the bullet tore through his skull, his brain matter splattering against the wall in a gruesome display. His body slumped to the ground, lifeless, blood pooling around him in a thick, dark puddle.

Sylus lowered the pistol, his expression calm, almost serene, as though he had merely swatted a fly. He turned back to you, a soft smile playing on his lips as he looked at your shocked face. His smile—so tender, so full of affection—made Xavier’s stomach churn with revulsion.

“I sent him to hell, just like you said, sweetie,"

Xavier’s mind raced, his heart hammering in his chest as he sat frozen, unable to pull his eyes from the screen. What the hell am I watching? His hands gripped the armrests of his chair so tightly that his fingers ached, but the pain barely registered. His world was narrowing down to this single moment, the horrifying spectacle unfolding in front of him.

His eyes darted to Sylus, who now stood with calm, calculated precision, his face devoid of any emotion as he turned his gaze to the henchman still writhing on the ground. The man’s body was twisted in agony, his limbs jerking uncontrollably as he gasped for breath, his face contorted with raw terror. He’s going to die. Sylus is going to kill him, too.

Xavier’s pulse quickened, a sick feeling swirling in his gut as he watched the tendrils of the familiar ominous red mist around Sylus begin to thicken, swirling with a low, almost inhuman hum that reverberated through the air. The mist was like a living entity, moving with a purpose, snaking toward the henchman with eerie fluidity, wrapping itself around him like a serpent tightening its hold.

The man’s breath hitched, his chest heaving with frantic, desperate gasps, but it was no use. The mist coiled tighter, its grip unyielding as it crushed the air from his lungs. His mouth opened wide, as if to scream, but no sound escaped. His eyes bulged with fear, veins popping in his neck as the mist squeezed relentlessly, cutting off any hope of escape.

Xavier’s throat tightened, his own breath becoming shallow as he watched the man’s body convulse violently, limbs thrashing against the floor in a sickening dance of death. The panic in the man’s eyes was unmistakable, the sheer terror that gripped him as he realized his life was slipping away. The mist was alive, feeding off his fear, tightening like a noose around his entire body.

Sylus stood over him, his hand raised slightly as if controlling the mist with nothing more than a thought. His expression remained cold, detached, but there was something else there—a faint flicker of satisfaction in his dark eyes. He was enjoying this.

Xavier’s stomach churned, the bile rising in his throat as Sylus’s power became terrifyingly real before his eyes. This wasn’t just some mob boss. This was a monster.

The man’s body twitched one final time, his limbs spasming as the mist constricted further, wrapping around his torso like a vice. His ribs began to bend, then snap, the bones splintering under the intense pressure. A gurgling sound escaped the man’s throat as his body gave way, his chest caving in, bones cracking like brittle twigs underfoot.

Holy shit... Xavier could barely comprehend what he was seeing. The sound of bone snapping echoed through the room, filling his mind with a sickening chorus of destruction. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. His eyes were glued to the horror as Sylus squeezed his hand into a fist, the motion simple, deliberate—final.

With a sickening, wet crack, the man’s entire body exploded outward. His ribcage folded under the immense force, collapsing in on itself like a house of cards, his spine snapping in two as the red mist continued to crush him.

The impact sent a sickening splatter of blood and tissue across the tiles, a dark, violent stain painting the cold grey walls in streaks of red. His bones crunched under the force, his skull cracking against the hard surface as his remains dripped to the floor in a grotesque heap. The sound echoed in the stillness, the dripping blood the only sign of life left in the room.

The mist slowly receded, dissolving into the air like it had never been there at all.

Xavier’s chest heaved, his breath shallow, ragged, as he sat in stunned silence. His mind couldn’t process what he had just witnessed. The sheer brutality of it, the casual way in which Sylus had destroyed a man’s life with nothing more than a thought—it was too much. Too surreal.

Sylus didn’t even flinch. He turned back toward you, his face softening once more, his cold detachment melting away as he reached out to touch your shoulder, as though nothing horrific had just occurred. As though the world hadn’t just shattered in violence around him.

Xavier swallowed hard, his throat dry, his body shaking with a mix of adrenaline and shock. What the hell is happening here? His mind was spinning, trying to reconcile the image of Sylus—this monster in human skin—with the man who was now gazing at you with such tenderness.

Sylus gently tilted your chin upward, his fingers brushing your skin with a strange sort of intimacy. "Sorry," Sylus says smoothly, his tone as casual as if he had just finished a routine task. His gaze slides back to you, eyes gleaming with quiet satisfaction. "I didn't want them breathing the same air as you any longer."

Xavier’s heart clenched as he saw the tears in your eyes, the way your body trembled. You looked utterly broken, shaken by the violence, but you didn’t pull away from Sylus. You didn’t fight. You let him touch you. You let him soothe you. And that—that was what terrified Xavier the most.

But you didn't really have a choice but to let him did you? Who would refuse a guy that just made a man explode his guts all over the walls?

Xavier sat there, his mind numb and his body frozen in place. The images on the screen had burned themselves into his brain—Sylus’s cold efficiency, the detached way he had slaughtered these men without a second thought, and the possessive way he touched your trembling body. It was like none of it mattered to him. He had done what he came for, and nothing more.

One of the masked men cheered as if he had just witnessed a cool party trick, his voice muffled and gleeful behind the bird-shaped mask. Xavier's stomach turned as he watched Sylus remain calm, entirely unfazed by the grotesque carnage he had just caused. Sylus didn’t even spare the scene another glance. His attention was entirely on you, your trembling body settling in his arms as he picked you up, your form curling inward slightly as if to shield yourself from the reality of what had just happened.

Xavier’s heart ached as he watched you struggle weakly, a part of you resisting, but ultimately…relenting. Giving up. The way you allowed yourself to be held by him—the man responsible for everything—sent a deep wave of anger and helplessness through Xavier’s veins. He wanted to scream at the screen, to break through it and take you back from this monster, but he was powerless.

Sylus paused for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, looking down at your small, shaking form cradled in his arms, then briefly glanced up at the camera. His crimson eyes glinted, and then—he winked. A cold, confident wink that sent a shiver down Xavier’s spine. It was as if Sylus knew exactly who was watching, as if this entire grotesque performance had been for his benefit. He didn’t care about the bloody mess he had left behind. He had what he came for.

The crow perched on Sylus’s shoulder cawed once, flapping its wings as Sylus calmly ascended the stairs with you in his arms, disappearing into the dim shadows above. Xavier watched in stunned silence, his breath shallow, his heart pounding in his chest like a war drum. He fast-forwarded through the footage, his mind racing, but the camera cut out soon after, leaving only an empty, black screen.

Xavier leaned back in his chair, the tension in his body finally releasing as his head hit the backrest, but the relief never came. His head was spinning, everything suddenly crashing into him all at once. Sylus. The truth hung heavy in the air around him, suffocating. Sylus had been the one behind your disappearance. He was the reason you had abruptly vanished from Xavier’s life. He was the monster pulling the strings.

His heart raced as the pieces fell into place, each one sharper than the last. Sylus had tried to kill him, not for the Hunter's Association’s secrets, but because he had been looking for you. And Sylus knew that. He had known that all along. But then… why had he kept him alive? Why toy with him like this?

“I've realized you're much more useful to me alive than dead." Sylus had said to him. The words now echoed in Xavier’s mind like a sick joke.

Useful? Useful for what?

Xavier sat there in stunned silence, his hands resting uselessly on the desk. The weight of it all settled into him, the anger rising and brimming in his chest until it became almost unbearable. His breathing quickened as rage burned through him. Of course, it had to be Sylus. The feared leader of Onychinus, the untouchable ruler of the N109 Zone. Of course, it had to be him. The man who had made practically everyone tremble with fear—the man who had just casually slaughtered people as if they were nothing—he had taken you.

And he was the one who had tried to take Xavier’s life, too.

Xavier clenched his fists, the tension in his body building to a fever pitch. His mind raced, the realization settling deep in his gut, heavy and sickening. Fuck.

He felt…hopeless. What could he do against Sylus? How could he fight someone like that—a man with an army, with power beyond anything Xavier could even fathom? The weight of it all crushed him. The anger simmered, bubbling just beneath the surface, threatening to consume him.

Then, a sound broke the silence. His phone buzzed on the desk, the vibration snapping him out of his spiraling thoughts. His heart skipped a beat as he glanced at the screen.

An unknown number.

Xavier’s breath caught in his throat, a strange, icy dread settling over him as he picked up the phone. His eyes scanned the message.

"I figure by now you've realized what's really going on. Listen closely. I will not repeat myself. Try any tricks or tell anyone, she dies."

Xavier’s chest tightened, panic creeping into his every nerve. His fingers trembled slightly as he held the phone, the reality of the situation finally crashing down in full. This was Sylus. It had to be.

She dies.

The words hit him like a sledgehammer, sending a jolt of terror straight through his core. Sylus had her. Sylus was watching. He had been watching all along.

Xavier’s heart raced, his mind scrambling for what to do. He needed to respond, but the fear clawed at him, suffocating. His hands shook as he typed out the only thing he could think of, his fingers moving almost instinctively across the screen.

"It's you, isn't it? Sylus."

The message was simple, direct. But as he stared down at the words, his stomach twisted into knots. He knew who Sylus was now, but what was he going to do about it? What could he do?

Xavier’s fingers hovered over the screen as he read the response. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat louder than the last.

"You're smarter than you look."

The insult was almost expected, but Xavier barely registered it. His mind was too focused on what Sylus had just revealed—on the horrifying reality he was now facing.

His eyes narrowed as he typed out his reply, his fingers moving with more defiance than his trembling heart felt.

"Well, I'm not stupid. Why would you save her just to kill her? You're lying."

His pulse raced as he hit send, the words blurring slightly as he stared at the screen, waiting.

The silence on the other end stretched out, suffocating. Every second felt like an eternity, the tension building in the room like a storm about to break. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Maybe I’m pushing him too far.

Xavier’s throat tightened as his mind scrambled for what he’d do next. Had he made a mistake? Sylus wasn’t just some thug. He was the ruler of the N109 Zone, the man who had tried to kill him. The man who now had you in his clutches.

Then, the phone buzzed again, and Xavier’s stomach dropped.

"Do you want to find out?"

The blood drained from Xavier’s face as he read the message. His body stiffened, a cold, creeping dread settling deep into his bones. The casual threat lingered in the air, icy and terrifying. He could almost hear Sylus’s voice behind the words, dripping with dangerous amusement.

Do you want to find out?

Xavier’s blood ran cold. His chest tightened, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of the question sinking into him like a lead weight. What did Sylus mean? The threat was clear, but Xavier felt trapped, stuck between the impossible.

He wouldn’t kill you… not after going through so much trouble to find you. That’s what Xavier wanted to believe, but the sinking feeling in his stomach told him otherwise. Sylus was unpredictable. A man who could kill with a flick of his hand, a man who saw people as tools, as possessions.

What if Sylus wasn’t bluffing?

Xavier’s thoughts raced, his mind a chaotic swirl of panic and rage. He didn’t know what to do, and for the first time in his life, he felt utterly powerless. Sylus had control—over him, over you. Every choice was a trap.

His fingers hovered over the phone, frozen as he stared at the message. Do you want to find out?

No. He didn’t.

Xavier's fingers hovered over the screen as he read Sylus’s latest message before typing once more.

"Okay fine. Enough with the games. What do you want from me?" His chest tightened, each heartbeat pounding in his ears like a drum.

"Good to know we're on the same page."

The casual, almost mocking tone twisted Xavier's gut, but it was the rest of the message that made his blood run cold.

"You're going to tell your captain that you saw and talked to your… partner. That she is fine and just felt trapped with work, so she fled to another country. After that, get rid of the SIM card. I will know if you don't. Don't test me."

Xavier’s heart pounded in his chest. The SIM card—the one that had shown him the horrific reality of what had happened to you, the one that contained evidence of something far larger and darker than he’d realized—had to be destroyed. Sylus knew everything. Every move Xavier made, every desperate attempt to unravel the truth, Sylus was watching. Controlling him like a puppet.

His hands trembled as he furiously typed back, the words coming fast, his desperation bleeding into every stroke of the keys.

"I can't. There's an organ trafficking ring going on right under our noses, and they might be stealing women from Linkon as well. I can lie to the captain, but don't you at least care about the people who took her in the first place?"

He hit send, his pulse quickening as the message went through. This was it. His last-ditch effort. If he could just get Sylus to care—if he could find some sliver of humanity in the man, some reason for him to want justice, to see that the people responsible for trafficking you were taken down—maybe, just maybe, he could find a way out of this.

But the silence that followed was suffocating.

Xavier’s heart raced in the quiet seconds that ticked by, every moment dragging out into an unbearable eternity. His breath hitched as he stared at the phone, waiting—hoping—for a response. Come on… care about this. Do something.

Finally, after what felt like an agonizing stretch of time, his phone buzzed.

"I’m taking care of them. Just do what I ask and she lives. Simple, yes?"

Xavier’s stomach churned as he read the words, the cold reality settling over him like a blanket of ice. Of course. Sylus wasn’t concerned about the trafficking. He wasn’t concerned about justice, or the victims, or anything that Xavier cared about. He was focused on one thing—control. He was always ten steps ahead, always moving the pieces on the board to his own advantage.

A wave of frustration, helplessness, and rage swept over Xavier, but what choice did he have? You were still in Sylus’s hands. He could keep pushing, keep trying to fight, but Sylus had made one thing clear—don’t test me.

Xavier's hands hovered over the phone, his mind racing. He felt trapped. Every move felt wrong, but there was no way out, not with you hanging in the balance. His throat tightened as he typed his next message, his heart pounding with the bitter taste of defeat.

"Fine. I'll do what you ask."

He hit send, the words feeling like poison as they left his fingertips.

Xavier's fingers tightened around his phone, his knuckles white as he stared at Sylus’s last message:

"Good. That's what I like to hear."

It was a simple sentence, but it carried the weight of finality that made Xavier's stomach twist. He typed furiously, his heart racing as he asked the one question that had been gnawing at him since this nightmare began.

"If I do this, does that mean you'll let her go?"

He hit send, the cold sweat on his neck making him shiver as he waited for a response. His mind raced, clinging to the faint hope that maybe—maybe—Sylus had a plan that involved letting you go. Maybe there was a way out of this, a way to get you back. Alive.

The phone buzzed in his hand.

"You get knowledge that she's still breathing. Should suffice."

Xavier’s stomach dropped, his body going cold as he read the message. His heart hammered in his chest, rage bubbling up inside him, burning hotter with each passing second. That was it. That was all Sylus was offering—the knowledge that you were alive. Not freedom. Not safety. Just…existence. Sylus had no intention of letting you go. Not now. Not ever.

But why? What was his game? Why keep you? Why was he so obsessed?

Xavier’s mind flashed back to the surveillance footage. To the way Sylus had looked at you. That strange tenderness in his eyes, the possessiveness in his voice when he called you "mine". It hadn’t been cold or detached like the way he dealt with others. It was intimate. Like you were something he cherished, something that belonged to him.

Did this monster…love you?

The thought made Xavier sick to his core. No. Someone like Sylus wasn’t capable of love. He was a killer, a manipulator, a tyrant. People like him didn’t love—they controlled, they possessed. But then… why kidnap you? What was it about you that had caught his attention, his obsession? You couldn’t possibly mean that much to him. Could you?

Xavier’s fists clenched in anger. The thought of Sylus loving you—touching you—made his blood boil. The idea of you, his love, being held by that monster sent a dark wave of rage crashing over him. He couldn't stop the thought from festering in his mind, couldn't shake the image of Sylus holding you close, controlling you with that calm, possessive demeanor.

"Don't think you'll have her for long. I'll find her. And you. You won't like it when I do."

The words appeared on the screen before Xavier even realized he had typed them, each letter a promise of vengeance, of justice. He hit send, the anger burning in his chest like a fire he couldn't contain.

For a moment, there was silence. Then his phone buzzed again.

"I'd love to see you try. Although, you may be a tad bit too late when you arrive. I've already claimed her in more ways than one."

Xavier froze. His entire world tilted as the implications of Sylus’s words sank into his mind like a dagger. Claimed her? In more ways than one? His body stiffened, the air around him suddenly feeling thick, suffocating.

Had this monster…forced himself on you?

His breath caught in his throat, fury surging through him like a wildfire. No. No, he couldn't have. The thought of Sylus putting his hands on you, of violating you in any way, made Xavier feel like he was about to explode. His heart pounded in his chest, rage clouding his vision.

He couldn’t stop his fingers from moving, the words fueled by a deep, primal fury.

"You fucking bastard. I'll kill you."

The message was blunt, raw, and filled with a hatred so deep that it practically burned through the screen. Xavier’s body trembled, his pulse roaring in his ears as he waited, barely able to breathe.

Sylus’s response came quickly, sharp and dismissive, as if this were nothing more than a game to him.

"We'll be in touch. I'll be watching. Ciao."

Xavier's hand shook as he stared at the words. Sylus had won, for now. He had all the control, all the power. He had you. And as much as Xavier wanted to tear the phone apart, to destroy everything in his path, there was nothing he could do. Not yet.

The fight wasn’t over, but it had just gotten infinitely more personal.

And Xavier knew he wouldn’t rest until Sylus was dead.

Xavier stared at his phone in disbelief, his heart racing as he watched messages with Sylus disappeared. What the hell? He hadn’t deleted them. He frantically swiped at the screen, refreshing, trying to bring them back, but there was nothing. Just an empty thread where Sylus’s taunting words had been only moments before. Gone.

His chest tightened, a cold wave of dread sweeping over him. Could Sylus really manipulate his phone? Could he get into his messages, erase things at will? The thought made Xavier’s blood run cold. Sylus wasn’t just some twisted mob boss; he had control over everything—his world, his technology, even his mind. He was everywhere, watching every move Xavier made. It felt like a noose tightening around his neck.

His hand trembled as he stared at the blank screen. Sylus had just stripped him of the only connection he had left. No evidence. No trail.

Xavier swallowed hard and clicked on your profile picture, seeking something—anything—to ground him. Your smiling face filled the screen, staring back at him with that familiar warmth, and for a moment, his heart clenched so painfully that it felt like he couldn’t breathe. You. He could see you so clearly in his mind—your laugh, the way your eyes lit up when you smiled, the way you had looked at him with concern that last night, like you always knew when something was wrong.

He clicked on the last message he had sent you, his heart aching with a bitter sense of nostalgia.

"Meet me outside my door, it’s urgent."

You had rushed over that night, your knock echoing in his memory—quick and frantic, just like you. He could still see you standing in his doorway, breathless, your brow furrowed with worry, the anxious look on your face as you took in his tense expression.

You’d been worried about him—worried about what was going on. He hadn’t meant to scare you, but in a way, your worry had been endearing. You looked so cute when you were worried about him.

He remembered how his heart had skipped a beat when he saw you there, how he’d calmed you down with a soft smile, suggesting the two of you go grab food together. He had something to tell you. Something important.

That night—the last night he saw you—had been etched into his mind ever since. The kiss. The confession. The memory replayed over and over in his head, a cruel reminder of what he had lost. The way his heart had raced when he finally worked up the courage to tell you how he felt. The words had tumbled out of him—nervous, but genuine. He remembered the way you’d looked at him, eyes wide with surprise, and for a moment, he thought he’d blown it.

But then…you kissed him.

God, that kiss. Xavier’s breath caught in his throat as the memory washed over him. The softness of your lips, the warmth of your body pressed against his. The way his heart had nearly burst from his chest when you leaned into him, your fingers brushing against his skin as if testing the waters. He remembered how everything else had faded away in that moment. There had been no Hunter’s Association, no missions, no danger. Just you and him, wrapped up in each other, the world melting into the background.

That kiss had been everything he’d hoped for and more. It had been sweet, tentative at first, but quickly deepened into something more, something real. He could still feel the way his fingers had tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as the heat between you grew. He had wanted to lose himself in you, to never let go. It felt right. More right than anything had in years.

But then…he had pulled away. He had stopped himself. Why? Why hadn’t he just asked you to come home with him? Why hadn’t he let the night go further? He had been scared. Scared of pushing too far, too fast. Scared of ruining what you had just started.

And now you were gone.

Xavier’s chest ached as the regret hit him like a tidal wave. If he had just asked you to stay, if he had let you come home with him that night, maybe you’d still be here. Maybe you wouldn’t have been taken. Maybe Sylus wouldn’t have you now.

His heart clenched painfully as he stared at your smiling profile picture, the weight of his regret suffocating him. He wished he could turn back time, take back that night, change everything. He had been too cautious, too afraid to push things forward. And now… now he was paying the price.

With a shaky hand, Xavier typed a message into the empty thread.

"I am coming, my love. When you read this, we will be together again."

The words blurred on the screen, and he stared at them for a long moment before pressing send. He didn’t know if you’d ever see it. Didn’t know if you’d even get a chance to read it. But it didn’t matter.

He was coming for you.

No matter what it took, he would find you. Sylus or no Sylus, he wasn’t going to stop until he had you back in his arms. Safe.

Suddenly, a sharp knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts, his heart leaping in his chest.

“Xavier? I heard you were back. Is now a good time?” Captain Jenna’s voice came from the other side of the door, calm but commanding as always. Xavier felt a rush of dread wash over him. He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t ready to face anyone right now, to lie to Jenna’s face after everything he had just uncovered. But he had no choice.

His gaze dropped back to his phone, to the message he had just sent you, your smiling contact photo staring back at him like a distant memory of a life that felt so far away now. He had to lie. Sylus was watching. Everything depended on him playing his part.

With a deep breath, Xavier shut off the phone, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he tried to steady himself. The weight of it all—the anger, the regret, the fear—pressed down on him, but he couldn’t let it show. He had to wear the mask. For now.

He exhaled slowly, opening his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. His voice was steady, controlled, even as the storm raged inside him.

"Yes…come in."

The door creaked open, and Xavier sat up straighter, forcing a calm expression as Captain Jenna stepped into the room. His heart still ached, the images of you still burned into his mind, but he would do what he had to.

For you.

You lay on the cold bathroom floor, your body still trembling from the aftermath of your vomiting. The cool tile pressed against your cheek, grounding you in reality, even though you desperately wanted to drift away from it. You felt weak, drained, as though the life had been wrung out of you by your own body’s betrayal. The soft hum of the overhead light buzzed, the only sound breaking through the thick silence that surrounded you. The nausea still churned in your stomach, but now it felt different—this wasn’t from sickness. This was from the weight of the truth sitting heavy in your chest, pressing down harder with every shallow breath you took.

You stared at the boxes of pregnancy tests that sat between you and the bathroom entrance, their neat, pristine packaging somehow mocking you. They were simple—just cardboard and plastic—but they felt like they had the power to tear your world apart. They loomed in the small space like a ticking bomb, waiting for you to take the next step. You knew what Sylus wanted. He wanted confirmation. He had planted the seed—literally—and now he was waiting, watching for the inevitable proof.

His words echoed in your mind, even though he was no longer in the room. "Take your time. I'll be in the room." The gentle kiss he had placed on your forehead before leaving left an imprint, a brand you couldn’t shake off. The way he had looked at you, with that dark, possessive patience, still sent chills down your spine. You hated it. Hated him.

The soft sound of his shoes getting farther and farther away had felt like a death sentence.

Now, you were alone. Alone with the tests and your growing fear.

You curled up tighter on the floor, wrapping your arms around your legs as if that could somehow shield you from what was coming. This can’t be real. Tears pricked at your eyes, but you tried to blink them away. You had to think. You had to focus, but all you could feel was the overwhelming weight of dread pressing down on you.

Your gaze kept drifting back to the boxes. What were your options?

The thought crossed your mind—maybe you could slam your head against the sink or the floor until everything went black. Maybe that would buy you some time. Maybe you could avoid facing this nightmare for just a little longer. But deep down, you knew it wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t kill you. You’d wake up with a concussion, maybe worse, and Sylus would simply chain you to the bed, his control tightening even further.

No. There was no escaping this.

Your chest tightened, and the panic began to rise again, bubbling up inside you until it was choking you. The silence in the room grew heavier, like the air itself was thickening, pressing down on your lungs. You could barely breathe.

You sat up slowly, every movement feeling like you were dragging yourself through quicksand. It’s fine. It’s just stress. You’re not pregnant. You’re just sick. That’s it. The nausea, the dizziness, the aches—they’re from being here. From the constant tension. It’s Sylus messing with your mind.

You weren’t pregnant. You couldn’t be.

But even as you tried to convince yourself, the doubt crept in. The signs had been there for days now, maybe even weeks. The constant exhaustion, the strange tenderness in your body, the way your stomach felt uneasy after every meal. Even the smallest things—like how your clothes had started to feel just a little bit tighter, or how your body seemed heavier, more sluggish. No. No.

You swallowed hard, staring at the boxes again. Despite the lavish bathroom being huge, the room felt too small, the walls too close. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as you reached for one of the boxes, your hands trembling.

Fine. You’d take the test, and then you’d laugh. You’d prove Sylus wrong. You could already imagine the smug look on his face melting away when you showed him the negative result. He was toying with you. This was just another one of his cruel games, right?

Your fingers fumbled with the box, your hands shaking so badly that you almost dropped it. The cheap cardboard tore under your grip, and you finally managed to pull the pregnancy test free. The plastic felt cold and foreign in your hand, like you didn’t even know what to do with it.

How did you end up here? How did this become your reality?

You stood up slowly, your legs wobbling beneath you, and shuffled awkwardly toward the toilet. The nausea rose again, a sickening wave that made you gag, but you swallowed it down, willing yourself to keep it together. It’s just a test. Just a stupid test.

The test felt clumsy in your grasp as you positioned yourself awkwardly. You had never thought you’d ever have to take a test until you were ready for a baby. Pregnancy hadn't been on your radar for awhile. You had always been careful, always taken the necessary precautions.

Birth control had supposed to been your protector.

But then Sylus...

You closed your eyes for a second, biting down on your lip hard enough to taste blood, and then you did it. After a few tense moments, you placed the test on the counter and sat back down on the floor.

Now you had to wait.

The seconds ticked by, stretching into what felt like hours. The ticking of the clock on the wall filled the room, each sound loud and grating in the stillness. Your heart pounded in your chest, so fast and so loud that it almost drowned out the noise around you. Not pregnant. You’re not pregnant.

You curled your knees to your chest, rocking slightly as you waited, your stomach churning with nausea, but this time from the overwhelming sense of dread that was building inside of you. The thought of looking at that test, of confirming what Sylus had already suspected, made your skin crawl. It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s not real.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you forced yourself to stand. Your legs were shaking, and your hands were clammy as you reached for the test. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, willing yourself to have the strength to look. It’s going to be negative. You’re going to laugh at this. You’re going to shove it in Sylus’s face.

But when you finally opened your eyes, the world tilted beneath your feet.

Two faint pink lines.

Your breath caught in your throat, your mind refusing to process what you were seeing. No. You blinked, your vision blurring as you stared down at the test. No. You held it closer to your face, as if maybe, just maybe, you had read it wrong. But the lines didn’t change. They stayed there—two unmistakable lines.

Positive.

The air left your lungs in a painful rush, and the room began to spin. You dropped the test, the small plastic clattering against the tile as your legs gave out beneath you. You crumpled to the floor, your body folding in on itself as the sobs began to tear through you.

No. No. No.

You buried your face in your hands, the sobs coming harder now, shaking your entire body. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. But no matter how much you cried, no matter how much you wanted to deny it, the truth was staring you in the face.

You were pregnant.

Sylus had done this to you. He had taken everything from you—your freedom, your choices, your body—and now he had tied you to him in a way you couldn’t escape. You felt sick, disgusted, and utterly trapped. Your hand moved instinctively to your stomach, hovering there for a moment, but you couldn’t bring yourself to touch it. This was real.

And there was no way out.

The scream ripped from your throat before you could even register the sound. It was raw, primal, and filled with the kind of desperation you hadn’t known you were capable of. Your entire body shook with the force of it, and you dug your nails into the cold tile, gasping for air through the sobs that wouldn’t stop. This can’t be happening. This thing inside you, this parasite that was feeding off your body, off your very life. The thought clawed at your mind, tearing you apart from the inside.

With shaking hands, you grabbed the pregnancy test box, rage surging through you as you hurled it across the bathroom. It hit the wall with a dull thud, the remaining tests scattering across the floor in a chaotic mess. It didn’t make you feel better. It didn’t release the boiling anger inside of you. The sobs only grew louder, more frantic, as the reality of it all hit you like a crushing weight. This was real.

Sylus had forced himself inside you. And now something else of his was also inside you.

You curled into yourself, pressing your hands against your stomach as if you could will the parasite away. Your breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps, your chest heaving with the effort.

Get it out. Get it out.

You couldn’t stop the spiral of thoughts, the feeling of complete and utter violation.

Then, the sound of hurried footsteps.

Through your tear-blurred vision, you saw Sylus rush into the bathroom, his eyes locking onto you instantly. His calm demeanor was gone, replaced by concern. He took in the scene—the scattered tests, the crumpled pregnancy box, and you, curled up on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

His expression softened as he knelt down beside you, his hands reaching out as though to comfort you, to soothe your trembling body. “Shh…,” he murmured, his voice calm, almost tender, as he tried to get closer to you. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

But the sound of his voice—that voice—only sent another wave of fury through you. You recoiled from him, your body jerking away as his hands hovered too close, your head snapping up as you glared through tear-stained eyes.

“No!” you screamed, your voice raw and broken. “Don’t touch me!”

Sylus froze, his hands still hovering near you, but his face remained composed, watching your every move, your every tear with that same unsettling patience.

“You did this to me!” The words ripped from your throat, your voice shaking as you let the sobs tear through you again. “You put a parasite in me! It’s feeding off me! I hate you! I hate you!” Your body convulsed with the weight of your anger, your fear, your disgust.

Sylus didn’t flinch. His eyes darkened for just a moment as your words hit him, but he didn’t respond with anger. Instead, he leaned closer, his voice lowering as he spoke, "Honey. It’s okay. You’re overwhelmed. Let me help you.”

The tenderness in his voice only made your skin crawl more, and you pulled away again, pushing yourself against the wall as if it could somehow protect you from him. But you knew better. There was no escaping Sylus, not anymore.

“Get away from me!” you sobbed, your voice cracking under the strain. “I don’t want your help! You’ve ruined everything! You’ve taken everything from me! And now you’ve put this—this thing inside me!”

His face remained impassive, but there was something behind his eyes now—a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place. “It’s not a thing,” he said softly, inching closer again, though still careful not to touch you yet. “It’s a child, sweetie. Our child.”

Those words sent a violent shiver through you, and your stomach turned. Our child. The thought made you feel like you were suffocating. Your breaths grew more frantic, your body trembling harder as the sobs became desperate gasps. No. You couldn’t accept that. You wouldn’t.

“You’ve trapped me,” you whispered, your voice shaking with anger, tears spilling freely down your cheeks. “You’ve ruined my life. I’ll never forgive you for this. Never.”

"You were planning to forgive me?" he asked, half jokingly and half confused. You don't respond immediately glaring at him for a few short seconds, as if trying to force his existence away altogether.

"Fuck off!"

Sylus remained calm, even as you spat your words at him, even as you screamed your hatred in his face. He sat back slightly, watching you crumble before him. He didn’t respond with cruelty, nor did he try to argue. He simply waited, his gaze never leaving you, his presence like a suffocating blanket that you couldn’t escape. You hated him for it—hated how composed he was, how in control he remained even as you fell apart at his feet.

He let your sobs fill the room, let you scream and cry and tremble, but eventually, when your voice grew hoarse and the tears ran dry, he leaned closer again, this time more confident in his movements. He reached out, this time taking your face gently in his hands, his thumb brushing the stray tears from your cheeks.

“You don’t have to forgive me,” Sylus murmured, his voice calm, steady. “But you will understand. In time.”

Your body went rigid at his touch, but you didn’t have the strength to pull away anymore. You were too drained, too broken. The weight of it all had settled into your bones, and you felt like there was nothing left inside of you but emptiness. Even the rage had flickered out, leaving you with nothing but a hollow pit of despair.

“Let me help you,” Sylus said again, his hands still holding your face, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your stomach twist. “I know you’re scared. I know this wasn’t what you wanted. But you’ll see, sweetie. This child—they will change everything.”

His words made your blood boil again, but the fight had gone out of you. All you could do was stare up at him, your body trembling, tears still streaking down your face. The cold tile pressed against your back, grounding you in this horrible reality. You were trapped. Bound to him in a way you could never escape.

And he knew it.

Sylus’s hands stayed steady on your face, his touch far too gentle for the storm raging inside you. You felt like you were breaking apart, crumbling in his grip, but even through the haze of tears and anger, he remained composed, calm. His thumb brushed away the tears still spilling from your eyes, and he let out a soft sigh.

"I don’t like seeing you cry," he murmured, his voice a low hum that seemed to reverberate through the small bathroom. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours, unblinking. "But if you must…then cry on me."

His words made your heart clench painfully, the bile rising in your throat again as the weight of his command—no, his offer—settled over you. Cry on him? The thought disgusted you, but you were too exhausted, too torn apart to resist any longer. The sobs were still clawing at your throat, your body shaking with the effort of trying to keep them down. You hated him. You hated him so much, but he was the only thing there, the only thing keeping you tethered to reality in this moment, twisted as that reality had become.

Without thinking, you leaned forward, your forehead pressing into his chest as the tears came again, harder this time. Your fists clenched against the fabric of his shirt, your sobs muffled against him as you shook uncontrollably. It felt like your mind was unraveling, slipping away from you, and you hated that he was the only option you had for any semblance of comfort. Sylus. The man who had orchestrated all of this.

You despised him, and yet…you clung to him. There was no one else.

You had no other choice.

Your sobs came in waves, each one more broken than the last, your body wracked with the force of your grief. Sylus’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you in closer, holding you tightly against him. His hand began stroking your back, slow and deliberate, the movement meant to soothe, to quiet the storm inside of you. And it made your skin crawl, made you want to tear away from him, but you didn’t. You couldn’t.

He leaned down slightly, his lips brushing against your hair as he whispered, “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t how you wanted it, but…I love you.” His voice was gentle, almost tender, and the sound of it only made the nausea twist harder in your stomach.

"I love you," he repeated softly, like a promise, his fingers tracing slow, calming circles on your back. "I can’t wait to hold our baby. Half you, half me…perfect."

Your body stiffened at his words, bile rising again, but you didn’t move. You didn’t have the strength. Instead, you cried harder into his chest, the fabric of his shirt wet with your tears as you tried to block out what he was saying, tried to close off the part of your mind that was registering the sheer genuineness in his voice.

He sounded…excited. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was about to start crying.

Disgust rolled through you like a wave, but it was smothered by the exhaustion that had settled deep into your bones. How could he be excited about this? How could he speak so softly, so sweetly, about something so wrong? So vile? You hated him for it. Hated the way he talked about this baby, this thing inside of you, as if it were some dream come true.

"I can’t wait to see what our baby will be like," Sylus continued, his voice warm with anticipation. His hand never stopped its slow, soothing path along your back. "Regardless, they'll be beautiful, Just like you."

You wanted to scream at him. To pull away, to tear yourself out of his grasp and run as far as you could. But the reality was too suffocating, too crushing. Your body wouldn’t move, wouldn’t obey your mind. You were frozen in his arms, forced to listen to him speak about a future you couldn’t even begin to imagine, a future you wanted no part of.

"I don't want to give birth" you sob into his shirt, gripping your fists tighter.

"I know you’re scared," he whispered, his lips close to your ear now, his breath warm against your skin. "But I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of both of you."

His words were like poison, slowly sinking into your mind, and you wanted to shove them away, to reject every syllable. But his hand on your back, his arms around you—it was all so steady, so calm. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t forcing you. He was just… there. Waiting for you to break.

"I’m sorry," Sylus murmured again, his voice soft, but full of that dark possessiveness you had come to dread. "But this…this is how it had to be. Things are just a little hard right now. Soon, you’ll see just how beautiful your life will be." His fingers stroked the back of your head gently, his voice a constant, maddening reassurance.

Your sobs began to quiet, but only because you had no energy left to cry. You hated him. God, you hated him. Every word he spoke made your stomach twist with revulsion, and yet, the sobs were now muffled against him, your body leaning into his, helpless in your own weakness.

"I love you," Sylus whispered one last time, his lips brushing against your temple. "And I love them too. Our little family."

A shudder ran through you, your heart breaking under the weight of his words. Our family. It sounded so wrong. So twisted. But he spoke with such genuine tenderness, with such sincerity, that it made your skin crawl. He meant it. He actually meant it.

And you were trapped.

Tied to him by something you never wanted, something that was now a part of you, growing inside you, linking you to him in a way you could never escape.

You finally tore yourself away from him, the anger bubbling up inside you until it felt like it would consume you whole. His touch felt like a poison, seeping into your skin, suffocating you. You stumbled out of his arms, putting as much distance between the two of you as your weakened body would allow. Disgusting freak. The words echoed over and over in your mind, ringing in your ears like a relentless drumbeat. This monster. He had done this to you. He had planted something inside you.

Your feet moved without you thinking, chain noisily dragging on the floor, carrying you out of the bathroom and toward the bed as if you could somehow escape the nightmare unfolding around you. He put a monster inside me. The thought made your stomach churn, your head spinning as you tried to grasp the enormity of it all. You were trapped. Trapped by him, by your own body, and now by this…thing growing inside you.

You could feel the bile rising in your throat again, the nausea twisting your insides into painful knots. You leaned over the bed, clutching the edge of the mattress as your body heaved, but this time it wasn’t just the nausea—it was the sheer revulsion, the overwhelming sense of betrayal. He had taken everything from you. Your freedom. Your choices. And now, he had taken control of your body in the most horrifying way imaginable.

Your mind raced, grasping for a way out, any way out. Hunger strike. You could starve yourself. You could stop eating, let your body waste away until there was nothing left for it to feed on. Maybe then, this nightmare would end. But the thought only lingered for a moment before another, darker idea crept in. Hot showers. You had read somewhere that pregnant women weren’t supposed to take hot showers. Could that work? Could you force your body to reject this thing inside you?

Your mind spiraled, the possibilities flashing through your thoughts in quick, frantic bursts, none of them staying long enough to feel real. You didn’t know if it would work. You didn’t know if any of this would work. But you had to try, didn’t you? You couldn’t let this happen. You couldn’t let Sylus win.

A sharp wave of nausea hit you again, pulling you back to the present, and you gagged, clutching the bed for support as your body threatened to betray you once more. You wanted to vomit, to purge this feeling, this sickness, to purge the very thought of what was happening to you. Maybe you should vomit all over the bed. It would serve him right. His pristine, perfect bed, ruined by the very thing he had caused.

But before you could move, before you could make the decision to act, you heard him behind you.

“Easy, honey.” His voice was soft, infuriatingly gentle, and the sound of it sent a violent shiver down your spine. You felt his hands on you again, his touch light but firm as he gently turned you around, guiding you back toward the bathroom with a patience that made your stomach twist even more.

Why is he doing this? You couldn’t understand it. Your mind couldn’t process the calmness, the care in his movements. After everything he’s done. After all the control he’d exerted over you, the pain, the manipulation…why was he being gentle now? Why was he acting like he cared?

Before you could think any further, your body betrayed you. The nausea you had been holding back surged forward, and before you could stop it, the vomit spilled from your mouth, coating Sylus’s shirt and splattering onto the floor below. The bile burned your throat, and for a moment, you were too shocked to react, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

Your heart stopped, panic surging through you as your mind caught up to what had just happened. Shit. You stared at the mess you had made, your body frozen in place as you waited for the inevitable. He’s going to lose it. You had just vomited all over him, all over his perfect, controlled exterior. Surely this would snap his calm. Surely this would make him angry.

But to your utter shock, Sylus didn’t flinch. He didn’t react at all. His face remained impassive, his expression as calm and composed as it had been moments ago, as though the vomit on his shirt didn’t even register.

“Do you feel better at least, honey?” His voice was filled with amusement, almost soothing, as if this were just another normal moment between the two of you, as if you hadn’t just thrown up all over him.

You stared at him in disbelief, your breath still shaky as your mind tried to process what was happening. How can he be so calm? He's seriously asking if you feel better after throwing up on him? You couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but give a small, weak nod, your body still trembling from the exertion of vomiting. You did feel better after that...not just physically, the nausea settling at last. Something about seeing Sylus covered in vomit, something he was the indirect cause of, was satisfying.

Sylus let out a low, amused laugh, his eyes softening as he watched you. “Good, that's all I care about” he said simply, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Without another word, he pulled the vomit-covered shirt over his head, tossing it aside in one fluid motion. His chiseled chest and abs were now fully visible, and despite the disgust still swirling in your gut, you couldn’t help the way your cheeks flushed with heat. You quickly averted your gaze, hating the way your body reacted to the sight of him, hating that even now, after everything, your body still betrayed you.

But Sylus didn’t seem to notice your reaction. Or at least, pretended not to notice. He reached out again, his touch gentle as he guided you back toward the bed. “Come on, lie down,” he said softly, his voice laced with that same unsettling tenderness. “I’ll clean this up. Don’t worry about it.”

You hesitated, the exhaustion settling deep into your bones. You didn’t want to do what he said, didn’t want to follow his instructions, but your body had reached its limit. The fight had drained out of you, leaving you feeling like an empty shell, hollow and spent. Without another word, you collapsed onto the bed, your limbs heavy and weak as you sank into the soft mattress.

As you lay there, staring up at the ceiling, you couldn’t help but watch him through teary, half-lidded eyes. You expected him to be angry, to snap at you, to make you clean up the mess you had made, but instead, Sylus crouched down and began cleaning up the vomit with meticulous care. He wiped the floor with a towel after spraying some kind of cleaner, his movements precise and deliberate, as though this were just another part of his daily routine.

Why is he doing this? The question gnawed at you, tearing at the edges of your sanity. Why is he being so gentle? So calm. Shouldn’t he be yelling at you? Shouldn’t he be furious that you had ruined his shirt, that you had made such a mess? But there he was, calmly wiping the floor, acting like none of it bothered him in the slightest.

It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense.

As you lay there, your body still trembling from the effort of vomiting, you felt a strange sense of detachment settle over you. You were watching him clean up your mess, watching him act like he cared, and it was like you were seeing it all from a distance. He’s supposed to be your captor. He’s supposed to be the monster that destroyed your life, the one who took away everything you cared about.

So why…why was he going to such lengths to take care of you? Especially after ignoring you for days and days on end before his trip?

The questions swirled in your mind, each one more unsettling than the last, but you were too tired, too overwhelmed to find any answers. You hated him. You despised him for what he had done to you. And yet…here he was, gently cleaning up after you, tending to you like you were something precious, something fragile.

When he finished, Sylus turned to you, his expression softening as his eyes met yours. He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate as he sat down on the edge of the bed beside you.

“Feeling any better? I have plenty more shirts for you to vomit on if the answer is no” he joked, his voice gentle, almost kind.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. The words stuck in your throat, tangled with the confusion and anger and exhaustion that had settled deep in your chest. Instead, you stared up at him, your tear-filled eyes searching his face for any sign of malice, any trace of the cruelty you had come to expect from him.

But there was none. Just that same calm, that same unsettling tenderness that made your skin crawl.

Sylus reached out, his hand brushing the damp hair away from your face. His touch was gentle, soothing, and you wanted to pull away, to scream at him, but your body wouldn’t obey. You were too tired. Too drained. So you let him touch you, let him stroke your hair as you lay there, staring up at him with a mix of hatred and confusion.

“Rest, kitten,” Sylus murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You've had a long day.”

As he continued to stroke your hair, you felt your body begin to relax against your will, the exhaustion pulling you under like a heavy blanket. You hated him. God, you hated him. But you couldn’t fight anymore. Not now.

And as your eyelids grew heavier, the last thought that flickered through your mind was one you couldn’t shake:

Are monsters capable of love?

You were running.

The world around you was a blur, dark and suffocating, your feet pounding against the ground as you sprinted forward. The only sound filling the air was the piercing cry of the baby in your arms—a sound so loud, so shrill, it felt like it was splitting your skull. You tried to hush it, tried to quiet the wailing, but the baby’s cries only grew louder, more insistent, drowning out everything else. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your heart pounding in your chest as you clutched the baby closer, but it was no use.

You couldn’t escape.

No matter how fast you ran, no matter how far you went, he was always behind you. Sylus. You could feel him closing in, his presence pressing down on you like a heavy shadow, lurking just beyond the edge of your vision. You couldn’t keep away from him like this—not with the baby. The weight of it slowed you down, its cries echoing in your ears, making it impossible to think, impossible to escape.

You needed to get rid of it.

Your eyes darted around, frantically searching for somewhere—anywhere—to put the baby. Your heart raced faster, your pulse thundering in your ears as you looked for a way out, for a place to hide. And then, you saw it: a box. An old, weathered box sitting in the shadows, half-open as if it were waiting for you.

Without thinking, you stumbled toward it, your legs trembling beneath you as you approached. You looked down at the baby in your arms, its face red and scrunched up as it screamed, its tiny hands clutching at your clothes, and for a moment, a flicker of guilt tugged at the edges of your mind. But this is the only way. You had to get rid of it. You couldn’t keep running, not with this weight dragging you down.

The box seemed to beckon you, and with shaking hands, you placed the baby inside. Its cries grew louder, more desperate, echoing off the walls as you closed the lid, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You couldn’t look back. You couldn’t let the guilt stop you.

The baby’s screams filled the air, shrill and deafening, but you turned away.

You took a step, then another, walking further and further from the box. The cries became distant, muffled, as if the sound was being swallowed by the darkness. It’s over. The baby was gone. You were free.

But then…a voice.

It was small, almost childlike, but laced with something dark, something that sent a chill racing down your spine.

“How could you leave me, Mommy?”

You froze, your heart stopping in your chest as the words hung in the air. Slowly, you turned, your breath catching in your throat as you looked back at the box. The baby’s cries had stopped. Silence pressed down on you, thick and heavy, making the air around you feel too dense to breathe.

“Don’t you love me?” the voice continued, and you felt your blood run cold. The lid of the box creaked open, and your heart sank. You wanted to run, but your legs wouldn’t move. You were rooted to the spot, helpless as the baby climbed out, but it wasn’t a baby anymore.

It had changed.

The thing that crawled out of the box was no longer the small, fragile infant you had left behind. Its body had twisted, morphed into something grotesque. Its skin was pitch black and sickly, its limbs too long, its eyes too wide and gleaming with a cruel intelligence.

The baby—the monster—fixed its gaze on you, a twisted smile stretching across its face. “You’re the monster, not me,” it hissed, its voice dripping with venom. “You’re the one who abandoned me. You’re the one who doesn’t care.”

You stumbled back, your breath coming in shallow gasps as the creature advanced on you, its twisted body contorting as it moved. You wanted to scream, wanted to turn and run, but your body wouldn’t obey. You were paralyzed with fear, trapped in the nightmare as the creature’s words pierced through you.

The creature lunged at you, its clawed hands reaching out, its sharp teeth bared. “You’re the monster!” it screamed, its voice echoing in your mind, the accusation burning into your thoughts as it leaped forward.

And then everything went black.

You jolted awake, your body drenched in sweat, your heart racing as though it were about to burst from your chest.

You held a trembling hand to your chest, trying to calm your racing heart after the nightmare. Your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, your skin still damp with sweat. Just a nightmare. Another horrible, twisted nightmare. You should’ve been relieved that it wasn’t real, but the fear clung to you, refusing to let go. What if the dreams kept getting worse?

The memory of the baby—no, the monster—flashed in your mind. It had lunged at you, screaming that you were the monster. You shuddered, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to push the image away. It was just a dream, nothing more. But why did it feel so real? And why did it feel like it was more than just your imagination running wild?

You hadn’t wanted to sleep in the first place. The only reason you’d fallen asleep at all was because of your outburst earlier having taken all your energy. The exhaustion had finally pulled you under, but instead of the relief you craved, it had brought you nothing but torment. Awful, suffocating dreams that clung to you even now.

Your hand drifted down to your belly, and you hesitated, unsure of what you were even feeling for.

Are you even real?

The thought echoed in your mind, your fingers hovering over your stomach as if touching it would make it all real, too real. Maybe the test had been wrong. Maybe this was all some twisted lie Sylus had fed you.

But then, another, more terrifying thought crossed your mind. When would you feel it move? The idea made your stomach churn with nausea again. The thought of something growing inside you, something moving, living… it made you want to crawl out of your own skin. You pressed your hand harder against your stomach, as if trying to confirm or deny the existence of this thing.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps, and before you could react, the door opened. Sylus shuffled in, a plate of waffles balanced in his hands. His presence filled the room, his footsteps soft but heavy enough to send a chill down your spine. The smell of syrup and cinnamon filled the air.

"Another bad dream?" he asked, his voice far too gentle for the weight of the situation. You didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to acknowledge him, but you found yourself nodding despite the effort it took to keep yourself together.

Sylus set the plate down in front of you, the smell of food wafting up, making your stomach turn again. You couldn’t even think about eating, not after the dream, not after the terrifying thought of something moving inside you. You didn't want to eat. Didn't want to nourish the beast inside you. But you stayed silent, gripping the blanket in your lap as you tried to focus on anything but the food or the man standing so close.

He sat beside you, his fingers reaching out to gently stroke your hair, as if this were all so normal, as if you weren’t crumbling from the inside. His touch made your skin crawl, but you didn’t have the strength to push him away.

"I want you to take another test," he said softly, his hand continuing its slow, deliberate strokes through your hair. "No worries, it won’t be the ones you threw on the floor."

You gulped, your throat suddenly dry, dread settling like a stone in your stomach. Another test. You didn’t want to face the reality you were so desperately trying to avoid. Once was enough, wasn’t it? You had already seen those two faint pink lines that had shattered your world. But now, you’d have to face it again.

You said nothing, staying silent as you stared at the plate in front of you, your mind racing. Sylus didn’t seem bothered by your lack of response. His fingers never stopped stroking your hair, a twisted form of comfort that only made you feel more trapped.

"I’d estimate you’re about four weeks and four days pregnant right now, sweetie," he continued, his voice soft, almost as if he were talking about the weather. "At about six to seven weeks, I’m having a doctor come here to do an ultrasound. We’ll also hear the baby’s heartbeat."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Ultrasound. Heartbeat. The reality of it felt like it was closing in on you, suffocating you. Your mind reeled at the thought of it—of hearing something inside you. Something that was half him.

You stared at the food, your appetite gone completely now, your chest tightening as you fought the rising panic. You didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t want to see it. You didn’t want any of this. But Sylus was already talking about the future, about this baby, like it was a certainty, like it was his dream coming to life.

You felt like screaming, but the words caught in your throat, trapped by the fear and helplessness. All you could do was sit there, nodding numbly as he continued to stroke your hair, his voice a constant reminder that you were trapped in this nightmare.

You finally mustered the courage to speak, your voice trembling as the words left your mouth. “How do you know how far along I am? Are you secretly an OB-GYN or something?”

For a moment, the room hung in silence, thick and heavy with tension. Sylus’s eyes flickered with amusement before he let out a soft, almost casual laugh, like the question had genuinely entertained him. The sound of it made your stomach churn, the lightness of his reaction so at odds with the fear gnawing at your insides.

“No, kitten,” he replied smoothly, his voice dripping with that familiar confidence that always left you on edge. “I told you. I’ve been tracking your period and ovulation.”

Your body froze. His words were like ice flooding your veins, your blood running cold as realization sank in. You felt yourself recoil, the room suddenly too small, too suffocating. Every muscle in your body tensed, the nausea swelling in your gut as the full weight of what he had just said hit you.

It wasn’t just some twisted joke. He had actually been tracking you—monitoring your body like it was a tool, like he was a puppeteer pulling invisible strings. He knew. Every detail. Every cycle. Every moment when your body had been vulnerable, he had been watching, waiting.

Your thoughts raced back to the night of your so-called “punishment,” the sex had seemed far too strange and easy to even really be considered a real punishment. You had been ovulating that day and he knew it. Now it all made sense. He planned everything. He had known what he was doing—carefully orchestrating every move like a sick game. You had thought he was cruel before, but this… this was something else. Something beyond cruelty.

You felt like your skin was crawling. He had planned it all, down to the most intimate detail of your body. The air felt too thick, your chest too tight as you struggled to breathe, your mind scrambling for some way to make sense of the horror of it all.

"Freak."

The word slipped from your lips, barely more than a whisper, but it carried every ounce of your disgust, your revulsion. You pushed the plate of waffles away from you, the sight and smell of food turning your stomach even more. How could you eat? How could you even stomach the idea of him feeding you after knowing the full extent of his manipulation?

But Sylus only chuckled again, the sound light and unfazed, as if your insult hadn’t landed at all. He picked up the fork and speared a piece of waffle, lifting it toward you with a grin that made your blood boil.

“Don’t be like that, kitten,” he coaxed, his tone playful, teasing, as though he hadn’t just shattered your world with his confession. He held the fork out to you, the piece of waffle balanced delicately on the end as if this were some kind of intimate gesture.

“Come on. Eat.”

You stared at him, your eyes wide with disbelief, your stomach twisting in knots. How could he be so casual, so calm about all of this? You wanted to knock the fork out of his hand, to scream at him, to make him see the rage and fear burning inside you, but the words caught in your throat.

“I’m not hungry,” you muttered, your voice weak but filled with defiance. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. The idea of accepting anything from him right now made you feel sick. You turned your head away, trying to block him out, your hands clenched so tightly in your lap that your nails dug painfully into your palms.

Sylus didn’t seem the least bit surprised by your refusal. He set the fork down on the plate, his movements calm and deliberate, his eyes never leaving you. His expression didn’t change. The amusement lingered in his gaze, but there was something else there now—something darker, something more determined.

“You can’t starve the baby,” he said, his voice dropping into a softer, more serious tone. The calmness in his voice made the words all the more chilling. “I won’t let you.”

The room seemed to grow colder, his words wrapping around you like a vice, squeezing tighter with every breath. Starve the baby. It was as if he had reached inside your mind, plucked the very thought you were trying to bury, and laid it out in front of you like a threat. He knew. He knew what you were thinking, what you were hoping for. And he wasn’t going to let you escape.

Your stomach dropped, the weight of his control pressing down on you like a physical force. There was no escape. You couldn’t starve the baby. You couldn’t do anything. He was right there, always one step ahead, already planning every outcome. He wasn’t angry—he didn’t need to be. The threat was already clear.

Sylus leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking with yours, his voice steady and unwavering. “I’ll take care of you,” he said softly, his tone almost gentle, but the underlying authority was unmistakable. “You and the baby. No matter what you do, I’ll be here.”

You could feel the rage building in your chest, bubbling up like a storm ready to break, but it was trapped beneath the suffocating weight of his words. The hopelessness. The helplessness. You wanted to scream, to lash out, to fight—but the exhaustion was already pulling you down, drowning you in the realization that there was no way out.

You glared at him, your teeth gritted, your hands trembling from the sheer force of holding back the torrent of emotions. But Sylus remained calm, his gaze unwavering, patient. He didn’t need to push. He didn’t need to force you. He knew he had already won.

Your thoughts raced, swirling in chaos, the air thick with tension. Your mind kept flashing to the nightmare, the baby’s cries morphing into screams, accusing you of being the monster. You couldn’t bear the thought of this thing growing inside you, something that would tie you to him forever.

But Sylus sat there, watching you, his expression a mixture of amusement and something far more sinister. He wasn’t going to let you escape this. He wasn’t going to let you do anything to harm the baby.

His baby.

And you knew, in that moment, that there was no fighting him. He was in control of everything—your body, your choices, your future.

“Eat,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of his words felt like chains binding you to him.

And as the silence settled in the room, you felt the walls close in, the hopelessness creeping in around you, suffocating you.

Your hands clenched into fists, your body shaking with a violent, rising fury. No. Fuck him. Fuck this baby. You couldn’t stomach the idea of giving in to his control, not again. You couldn’t let him win. If he was going to force you into this, so be it. You’d fight him every step of the way.

“I’m not eating,” you spat, your voice raw with anger. The defiance in your words was the last shred of resistance you had left, but you clung to it like a lifeline. You glared at him, trying to summon every ounce of strength to hold your ground. “I don’t care what you do. I won’t do this. I won’t be your prisoner, and I won’t nourish this—this thing.”

Sylus didn’t flinch. His face didn’t even shift. Instead, his lips curled into a slow, deliberate smile, his eyes gleaming with a dark amusement that made your skin crawl. There was no frustration in his expression, no anger, just the unnerving calm of someone who was always ten steps ahead. He had anticipated this. He had expected it. And that knowledge made your stomach turn, a chill crawling down your spine.

“Sweetie,” he said softly, his voice far too calm for the storm of emotions raging inside you. He tilted his head slightly, as if contemplating his next words carefully. “You have two choices. Either you eat and nourish the baby...or Xavier dies.”

The name hit you like a punch to the gut. All the air rushed from your lungs, your body going cold as the words sank in. Xavier. Your heart stuttered, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to collapse. You stared at Sylus, wide-eyed and trembling, the room spinning around you.

“No,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you tried to process what he had just said. “No…you’ve killed him anyway! I won’t fall for your tricks!” You needed to believe it—to convince yourself that Xavier was already gone, that Sylus was lying, manipulating you. That this was just another one of his mind games.

But the way he was looking at you, so calm, so sure—it made you doubt. It made you fear.

“Actually,” Sylus cooed, his voice dripping with condescension. “Xavier is very much alive. He’s been looking for you. Quite the determined man, I’ll give him that.”

Your heart clenched painfully in your chest, but you shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. No. He’s lying. “You’re lying!” you screamed, your voice filled with desperation. “You’re trying to mess with my head!”

Sylus’s eyes gleamed with amusement, his lips curving into that same, unnerving smile. “Sweetie,” he said, his voice low and calm, but there was an edge to it now. “I am many things, but a liar to you? I am not. Do you really think that?”

Your breath hitched in your throat, the words catching before you could respond. Of course you thought he was a liar. He was a manipulator, a monster. But something about the way he said it—the confidence, the certainty—made your blood run cold.

Before you could say anything, Sylus stood up, leaving the room without another word. You sat there, frozen, your heart pounding in your chest, the echo of Xavier’s name still ringing in your ears. He’s alive? No way. Sylus was playing with you. He had to be.

Moments later, the door creaked open again, and Sylus returned—holding something in his hand. You squinted, trying to make sense of it, and then you saw it. Your phone.

Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes locked onto the familiar case. Your phone. You hadn’t seen it in what felt like an eternity. It was as if a piece of your old life had been placed right in front of you, a stark reminder of the world outside of this nightmare.

Sylus walked closer, the phone dangling loosely from his fingers as he watched your reaction with a smug, knowing smile. He unlocked it with ease, swiping across the screen with fluid movements, and it didn’t surprise you in the slightest that he knew your passcode. Of course he did. He always knew everything.

But then, he turned the screen toward you.

Your breath stopped in your chest as you saw the text message on the screen, your heart thundering in your ears. The words stared back at you, sharp and undeniable:

“I am coming, my love. When you read this, we will be together again.”

Your hands flew to your mouth as a gasp escaped your lips. Xavier. He was alive. He was alive and looking for you. The realization hit you like a wave, crashing into you with such force that tears sprang to your eyes. All the fear, all the desperation you had bottled up came flooding out. He was still out there.

But Sylus…Sylus had him in his sights.

“No,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “Leave him alone, you bastard!” The tears spilled over, running down your cheeks as you shook with a mixture of rage and despair. “Don’t you dare hurt him! Please!”

Sylus looked at you pitifully, his eyes softening as if your tears were hurting him. But you could see the satisfaction underneath it all, the way his lips curled just slightly at the edges. “You both love that nickname,” he said with a mocking sigh, as if indulging in a private joke.

“He had similar things to say when I talked to him.”

Your blood ran cold at the thought of Sylus getting anywhere near Xavier. He had spoken to him. Sylus had gotten close enough to Xavier to make him suffer. You clenched your fists, shaking with anger at the thought of the man you loved being at the mercy of this monster.

“Stay away from him!” you yelled, your voice cracking with the intensity of your emotions. You wanted to leap out of bed, to fight, but your body felt weak, your limbs heavy with hopelessness. “If you touch him, I swear I’ll—”

Sylus held up a hand, cutting you off mid-sentence. His eyes darkened, the playfulness vanishing in an instant as he looked at you with cold, unwavering authority. “Eat,” he said firmly, the command in his voice clear and sharp. “I won’t repeat myself.”

You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

“If you kill our baby,” Sylus continued, his voice low and deliberate, “I kill him. Pretty fair, wouldn't you agree?”

The weight of his words sank into you like a stone, pulling you down into a pit of despair. You felt the ground fall away beneath you, the walls closing in as the finality of the situation crashed over you. This was it. There was no escape. If you didn’t obey, if you didn’t nourish this baby growing inside of you, Sylus would kill Xavier.

You could barely breathe, your chest tightening as the tears continued to flow down your cheeks. You hated him. You hated him so much it burned inside you like fire, but you couldn’t let him kill Xavier. You couldn’t.

With shaking hands, you reached for the fork, your vision blurred by tears. The weight of the utensil in your hand felt like a death sentence, like the final seal on the prison that had become your life. Your fingers trembled as you lifted the fork, your stomach twisting with disgust, but you couldn’t stop. You had to do this.

You stabbed the piece of waffle on the plate, your tears dripping onto the table as you brought the food to your mouth. It tasted like ash, like poison, as you forced yourself to chew. Your body revolted against it, every instinct screaming for you to spit it out, to reject it, but you couldn’t. You had no choice.

As you swallowed the bite of food, more tears slipped down your face. You felt hopeless, broken, the fight drained from you as you sat there, silently crying.

Sylus watched you, his eyes calm and satisfied. He leaned down slightly, brushing a hand through your hair, his voice soft and tender now.

“Good girl.”

You wanted to scream, but all that came out were silent sobs. You gripped the fork tighter, your knuckles losing all blood, as you prayed. Prayed that Xavier would find you.

“Hurry,” you whispered under your breath, your voice choked with emotion. “Please. Hurry.”

But deep down, the gnawing fear clawed at your heart—you knew there was no outrunning Sylus.

And as the silence stretched between you, the crushing weight of your reality settled over you like a suffocating blanket, leaving you gasping for breath.

[jellicatty]

♯2 ┆ ❝ GROUPIE LOVE ❞ 𝜗𝜚 ᵎᵎ

Their tolerance is quickly crumbling under the weight of your relentless, wicked charm. It’s only a matter of time before their lust spills over. And unfortunately for you, the dam finally breaks during your work shift.

╰┈➤ contains : nanami x beverage cart attendant! female reader x higuruma. no curses au. flirty reader. jealous! nanami. really reaaaally mean higu. THREESOME. public sex. no protection. creampie (yipee). shoko present here. 6k words (it's an easy read trust).

╰┈➤ note : MY HANDS ARE LITERALLY SWEATING PLEASEEE okay wait disclaimer im not a smut writer but i did enjoy writing it hueheu OKAY ENJOY READING MY BFFS ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ (hoping i don't disappoint) (a bit scared).

The harsh rings of the telephone cuts right through Nanami's ears, yet his face remained unresponsive at the sound. It was normal to be surrounded by phone calls, mugs of black coffee, and especially the snores of his coworkers.

A normal day.

Well, not so normal anymore.

From the day he and Higuruma had their eyes on you, life has been something that Nanami looked forward to. It was still riddled by his tiring occupation, but his bi-weekly golf meets with his friend turned his dull life upside down. He might be exaggerating, but that's what a good pussy/ a pretty girl does to him.

"Hey... Why are you looking so dashing all of a sudden, Kento?" His colleague asked from his work cubicle, voice groggy from being woken by his five minute alarm. Although not intending to be rude, Nanami's focus stayed fixed on his screen, typing away whatever he needed to.

"You don't have a girl yet, right?" His co-worker leaned closer to his face, eyes suspecting the blond's hyper-focused gaze. "Right..?"

With a sigh, Nanami answers, "No, I've been playing golf lately." It wasn't a lie but it wasn't the truth either.

"No offense, but Golf? Out of all sports?" Nanami's politeness cracks for a moment, glaring at his colleague at his sudden comment.

"Please, excuse me—"

Ding!

Their eyes lands on Nanami's laptop where the notification sound came from. It wasn't an ad from a random online website or an alarming message, but rather, an anonymous text from Higuruma.

"Higuruma? Is that your girl—"

"Please, excuse me, I need to finish my work." Before his coworker could overstep his boundaries, Nanami quickly cuts them off.

A message from Higuruma at this hour was one of the things he least expected. Not only was he occupied with his work, the two actually never texted each other unless needing assistance and their hangouts. Nanami stared at the screen for a moment, then clicked the notification bar.

“Do you have a moment?” It read. Nanami hesitates to respond when Higuruma’s intention still isn’t clear to him yet. Another message arrives, this time fully capturing his attention.

“It’s about her.”

Afternoon had already approached, yet your body laid on your silk sheets. Realization has not completely settled and a nagging feeling inside you hammered. You were going on a date with a man you met from work. And you might fuck him tonight.

As the seconds pass by, exhilaration pumped in your veins. Weeks were gone with the wind since you had been spontaneously invited by Higuruma. Ever since then, your nights have been spent by scrolling through online stores for dresses— one that's sure to weaken his knees. dresses that can be easily slipped off too

On the other hand, your reality was a nightmare for someone else. And that someone was none other than Ieiri Shoko, your best friend, and fellow beverage cart attendant. If she was ever in your situation, she would have ran to the nearest highway and voluntarily approached a ten wheeler truck— her words, not yours.

"Were you even listening?" Shoko raised her voice, still overshadowed by the loud music from your laptop.

"Can't hear you!" Cautiously, you rolled your hair around the gadget and released it. Roll. Press. Release. Your routine continued while music blasted from your bedazzled speakers. "Or Nah" by The Weeknd and other artists, a filthy song for a filthy woman— or at least, that's what Shoko said.

"Please stop the music, I'm sick of hearing women moaning and bed squeaking every damn minute,"

"Fine, fine!" With a giggle, you lowered the volume, finally lending an ear to Shoko's daily rant. "What were you saying again?"

Shoko rolled her eyes, "Whatever, I said you look fucking delicious" her deadpan evident in her tone, "Oh, I'm flattered!" Roll. Press. Release. And finally, your hair was done and curled to perfection. Your focus shifted to your makeup bags, another battlefield to enter. But this war was a familiar one, and after a short time, your makeup was done to your liking.

While Shoko released her frustrations through rambling, you busied yourself with your reflection, which you had been staring at for a minute now. The sun had set and the familiar orange hues were streaming from your windows when you had finished. Anticipation crept, and once again, you find yourself daydreaming how the next moments will be. You’re planning on ending the night without a surprise, and you're certain you won’t be leaving without a catch too. Will he confess his desires through discrete touches? Does his plan include you being brought to his doorstep? Whatever it is, you were in on it. And for it to happen, you wore a good fucking dress to impress Higuruma.

You walked back to your desk and gave Shoko a clear view of your stunning choice of clothing. The sensual yet formal style of your dress heightened your charm even more. One gaze and a man will wonder what lies beneath it. Hopefully, that man will be Higuruma tonight. And hopefully, he takes notice of your daring move of choosing a backless dress. Back exposed and bare, only welcoming his warm touch.

In a trance, Shoko’s lips shut when you asked her, "So, what's the vibe?"

"Uh, hot vibe?"

"No, silly! Like, is it giving a dinner date with your ex-husband and showing up in a revenge dress to seduce him back? Or, is it giving a first date night with the side chick?"

Her mind stalled for a moment, before replying, "Yeah"

“That was very helpful!” Shoko rolled her eyes at your sarcasm. Your attention was drawn to your phone where a loud ding erupted from. Higuruma’s notification pops, and instantly you were zooming around your room for your final touches. You squealed, earning another annoyed sigh from your friend.

“Toodles, Ieri!” And with that, you closed your gadgets shut, sprayed perfume once more and slipped on your heels. One last look at your reflection, and you were good to go. Each step you took was accompanied by the hammering beats of your heart. Before you open your door, you peeked into its peeping hole. Outside, Higuruma idled by your porch, examining your house while his hands clutched a bouquet. You quietly gasped at his sweet surprise.

Finally ready, you swung the door open, “Nice to see you here, Sir Hiromi,” his name rolled off your tongue with a teasing lilt, one that’s daring him to step an inch inside your home. And he would have, because your appearance for tonight was not something that his control could take.

Higuruma wanted to stop time right there and then, at the exact moment you stepped out of your door with flushed cheeks and a dazzling grin. He wanted to take his time in analyzing every curve and inch of your skin. The rise and fall of your chest, the delicate beauty marks adorning your body, the shine of your lips, and that fucking dress. He was only a man after all, and any man would fall to their knees if they ever were graced with your stunning look tonight.

“Lovely to see you too,” There was a pause in his words, and although his lips were locked, his mind scrambled for the words to say. “Y/N,”

“Yes, Sir Hiromi?”

“Just Hiromi tonight, love.”

“Hiromi,” His name is followed by a giggle.

The man extended his gift to you, “Before we go, I want to give you this.” Immediately, the fresh scent of the hand picked peonies and tulips greeted you. Its vibrant colors matched your dress. Your appreciation fell from your lips, and without wasting any more time, the two of you settled inside his sleek black car.

“You’re comfortable, right?” Higuruma briefly glanced at you, then you replied with a polite smile. You have not even reached your destination yet but you were already drunk. His rich perfume whiffed about in the air, his scent dangerously intoxicating you and fueling your lustful imagination. His choice of clothing was a weapon too; a black tuxedo fitted perfectly on his form. And his nose, how could you ever forget his perfect nose.

Unconsciously, your teeth bit your lip. That damn charm never faded even when he simply drove. Were you reaching your breaking point? Or is it that time of the week again? Whatever, you needed him. The feeling’s mutual though. Higuruma, too, finds you irresistible under the moonlight.

An inner turmoil stirred inside him, though. His hesitance of bringing you to the date gnawed at him gradually. The closer you got, the more he wanted to turn back and drive fast to your house, needing you to be all for himself tonight. But, there’s no turning back now, not when another surprise is already waiting at the venue.

Higuruma sneaked a glance on your exposed thigh.

Christ.

Did you even know the extent of your control over his restless mind? That, just one more word slipping from your mouth would tilt him over to the edge? His composure is unraveling under the force of your mere presence and you’re so blatantly unaware of it. Your blindness to his suffering tethers him even more to you. It’s almost indescribable how badly he wants to put himself under you. under your pussy

God, he thought. May God extend his restraint because another moment alone with you will drain all his control.

Aside from his buzzing train of thoughts, the ride to the restaurant was silent. Nevertheless, your unspoken desires spoke for yourselves. A part of Higuruma was also glad you remained still, for hearing your sweet voice might just be the last push.

After a few grueling minutes of fucking you in his own world, the both of you arrived at your destination. Higuruma swiftly led you to your assigned table, where a surprise caught your breath.

“S-Sir Kento?”

Ah, there you are, Nanami’s object of nightly affection.

And just when you thought your night couldn’t get any better, Nanami sat at the booth. His eyes shifted from the menu to yours, capturing yours with a playful glint. Your grip on your purse tightened as Higuruma walked you to him.

“Thought it would be nice to have him with us.” Higuruma smiles and gestures for you to sit beside him and you excitedly do so. Albeit your visible shyness, you quickly warm up within their presence. And after some greetings, dinner started.

Your attention shifted to Nanami, who appears to be very sophisticated with his suit and tie. Fuck, it’s embarrasing to admit it but these men have outsmarted you, turning the tables and making you their playtoy instead. You’re not letting your hard headed self succumb without a fight of course.

When the food arrived, your plan silently commenced. As you bit your meal, your foot brushed against Nanami’s, earning a warning glance from him. Stubborn, you let your teasing continue. Slowly, you rubbed your heels, tracing lines on his skin that made him tense, before subtly lifting up the ends of his trousers. Nanami decided to clear his throat, as if signaling Higuruma.

“So, what about you, sweets? You can’t be sitting in your room all dolled up everyday.” Higuruma asked, placing his palm on your exposed thigh.

You’re caught speechless, “I…” You looked up at him, wordlessly begging for mercy as his hand went closer to your clothed sex. Nanami played dumb across you, finding amusement at your predicament.

“Oh, me?” You gulped, rushing for a word to say.

“Haha! I’m actually quite uninteresting once you get to know me.” Your laughter failed to cover the rising tension within the room. And just from Nanami’s stifled snicker, you knew you were an idiot for even attempting to play it off.

Higuruma went on, “Seriously? No boyfriend to talk to or anything?” You grew hotter under their intense gazes, grappling at your composure to stay under Higuruma’s taunting moves.

“No.. No boyfriend.”

“You can’t fool adults, angel. A pretty lady like you ought to grab some attention, hm?”

Higuruma squeezes your inner thigh, “A-attention?”

“Yeah, your mini skirts were distracting. Or you don’t know that either?” They’re taunting you and you’re falling for it. Gradually, but surely. They’ve found your weakness, using it to satisfy their need for humiliation; almost like a punishment for teasing them.

“S-skirts…? Oh!” Your sentence is interrupted by Higuruma’s sneaky hand that was now placed before your pussy. Dissatisfied with your limited expression, Higuruma pushed your button by grazing his finger on your nub. And for a moment, your face faltered and a short gasp left your lips.

Your mind screamed at him for his teasing, loathing at his want for humiliating you publicly. Yet, your unbridled hatred for him could not mask your desire. Each glide of his finger against your sex was intoxicating. You never thought he’d crossed the line in a restaurant, surrounded by dining visitors and watched intently by Nanami himself. Dread etched onto your face as you helplessly feel your control entangle itself within Higuruma’s lust, bound by your need for excitement.

You lift your head, facing Higuruma with a newfound courage to endure his seduction.

“Hiromi—”

“Do you need water?,” He began rubbing his index finger on your clit, “You look rather flushed.” You struggled to reply when his movement went faster. Embarrassingly, your pussy welcomed his hand, slick pooling in your panties. You can’t think straight. Not when Higuruma’s fingers are only quickening by every passing second. Or when Nanami’s staring at you with such hunger it’s almost primal.

“Hiromi, It may be beige this time.” Nanami chimed in, seemingly unbothered by the growing tent in his own pants. “Mhm? Oh, I agree with you on that one.”

“W-what are you guys talking ab—”

“It’s just a game me and Kento play.”

If it wasn’t for the table's long drapes and the cloth on your lap, everyone beside you would have seen the scene. And if it also wasn’t for the waiter who asked for the desserts, you would’ve coated Higuruma’s finger with your cum.

“May I now serve the desert?”

“Please do.” Nanami gave the server a smile. And just like that, the tension from earlier dissipated and the two men were now back to normal. They chewed their meals and laughed heartily at their conversations, ignorant to your dazed expression.

The whole dinner went by without any more intrusions and fastly, it had come to an end. You stepped out of the restaurant, arm linked around Higuruma’s with the bouquet in hand while you bid your goodbyes to Nanami. It was unfortunate that your dinner with them had to end, but that means you now have the chance to return their gesture.

It was clear the tension from earlier was still present. With Higuruma failing to keep his attention on the road ahead, and your eyes drifting from the window to his crotch, a few words needed to be said.

“Hiromi, that was so unfair!” You pouted, and Higuruma could only chuckle as his response.

“I’ll make it up to you,” He looked at you, “We will make it up to you.”

“How?” You bit your lip, pressing your legs together to ease your arousal.

“You know how.”

“But I don’t know how.” Higuruma lets out a soft grunt at your words, caught between annoyance and exhilaration. You can’t have your way with him and you know that. He’s still in control but seeing him lose his insanity over just mere words made you laugh.

“Please?” Your tone dripped with hoax innocence, pressing onto his patience even more when he stayed silent. “Stop being such a gentleman, Sir Hiromi!”

“Careful” He warned, “You might get more than you wish for.” But his statement only added fuel to the fire, igniting another desire within you to see how far you can go.

You swallowed your hesitance, “But that’s what I want.”

“Test me one more time, Y/N.”

Was it a threat? An order? Anyway you see it, you will be the one about to be tested. It’s frightening; you have a zero idea of what he can promise you after pushing his buttons. However, the fear of the unknown sends a sweet ache down your sex only he could relieve. But seeing that you’ve pressed him, you might be getting anything but a sweet treat.

“Come on, tell me how you’ve been touching yourself to the thought of being shared.”

Your body stiffened at his bold accusation, flinching even.

“Oh, was that too much? A sweet girl like you can’t handle words like that? Was it too mean, Name?” He mocked you, but your body betrayed his mockery as your pussy dripped with more lust.

“Where did all that confidence go? Where’s the girl that will grind on Nanami’s dick in front of me? Or did my little stunt earlier put you in your place? Perhaps, I need to do more to get it through your skull.”

You clenched your fists, ready to face his tenure, but your voice wavered. “Y-you’re the one who’s mean! You touched me in front of everyone!”

“Now you’re acting like you didn’t enjoy it— like you didn’t love Nanami’s eyes all over you.” His words cut right through the air, striking you a fact that you weren’t ready to accept. The sudden hushness of your voice was the only confirmation Higuruma needed. Slowly, his lips contorted into a smile.

His unbelievable behavior with you was uncharacteristic and hardly a reflection of who he used to be; a result of crossing your boundaries. As he drives a kilometer closer and closer to your house, you get to see his true nature— a hungry, and sadistic man. A man who reveled in your indignity. It wasn’t off-putting, though. If anything, it turned you on even more.

Your ride was almost coming to an end, yet none of you spoke up. Higuruma still had that stupid smile on his face, while you’re still shaken from your argument with him. When you arrived at your front porch, you hurriedly stepped out of the car, eager to escape whatever words he’ll be saying.

“You’re mean, Hiromi!” You scowled, stomping to your front door while Higuruma trailed behind without wiping his smile off his face. “Mean? I thought you liked that too.” You shot him a mocking smile before pushing your door open. However, Higuruma’s quick to close it shut.

His coy mockery slipped, revealing his genuine concern, “You… still enjoyed it, right?” he asked, needing to be assured. A small giggle ran past your lips, turning around to face the man who held a softer gaze than before. There was a pause in your movement, mind in a dilemma over what your next response should be. But one thing’s for sure; you’re ready for another date, and hopefully it goes past just rubbing you under tables.

Higuruma awaited your next move, curious at your roaming eyes. Suddenly, you started to flicker inexistent dust off his suit and fixed his unmoving tie. You took your time with your fingers, gliding them across his firm chest, unaware of his rapid heartbeat. Grabbing the lapel of his suit, you slowly pulled him into you just close enough to have your lips ghosting over his ear.

“Next time… Don’t disappoint me, Sir Hiromi. ”

Curse you! Not a single case in his profession had left him this winded. Whatever you are, you’ve bewitched him. You’ve cursed him in perpetual yearning, casting him a spell that always seemed to put you out of his reach. Now, you’ve displayed your power over him, giggling at his dumbfounded face. You may as well have hexed his mind because your distance only attracted him more.

“Ba-bye, Hiromi!”

Witch.

Exhaustion has bounded your body to near fatigue. Every action you take accompanied a sigh, a testament to your depleted energy. Lurid night shifts were a nightmare came true for you— darkness shrouding your surroundings, while the emptiness of the lot drew you in between fright and boredom. Golfers weren't a common sight at this hour either, leaving you alone with your cart and some alcohol you stashed for yourself.

However, your job can’t do itself. After serving the last round of drinks to your clients, you started a lap around the course. Night shifts were boring, but lately, your entertainment lied on every replay your mind made of your date, leaving a lingering smile on your face.

As you hummed a melody, your mind roamed its memories. Your date with Higuruma and Nanami has left you constantly checking your messages, waiting for the seen status to change.

“Perhaps, I was too mean to him.” You muttered with a sigh, but your genius mind jolted your body awake, striking yourself a brilliant thought. Giddily, you parked your car to the side and hopped off. You opened your camera and started to position your body for a normal selfie, then shifted your camera slightly above you to get a better view of your chest. You’ve mastered all inappropriate angles to get a man shaking in longing. It was a bait that worked many times in your favor— the two men won’t be an exception to this, of course.

Bending forward, puckering your lips, even pushing your breasts. You’d let them know what they’ve been missing. But, the unsettling feeling of being watched returns. However, you were too late to turn and were instead, shockingly greeted by a familiar voice.

“Bending over out in the open? A girl like you really has no shame, hm?” The sudden question left you off guarded, shrieking from the terror of the unforeseen voice. You quickly spun around, ready to hit whoever dared to mess with you. However, you’re faced with Higuruma and Nanami with cocky grins on their faces.

“W-What are you guys— No, wait! Why were you guys watching me like a creep!” They ignored your complaints, stepping forward to corner you.

“Is that really the question that needs to be asked here, sweets?”

“More like, why is your ass out for the whole golf course to see?” Nanami joined in, taunting you with each step he took. “Is that your phone in your hand?”

“It’s perfectly normal to have my phone with me all the time!”

“Hm, it’s also normal for you to send these photos, right?” Then, Nanami whipped up his phone, its screen illuminated the very scandalous pictures you took. Your shock elicited a gasp, realizing your blundering fingers had accidentally sent them in some ridiculous manner.

“What— No! Ugh, whatever!” Overwhelming embarrassment enveloped your frame as you stepped away from the scene. However, confusion replaced your shame when their conversation continued.

“It’s pink.” Higuruma suddenly commented, “Of course it’s pink— It always is!” He followed it with a brazen chuckle while staring at your pictures, Nanami joining him soon when he realized. The ambiguity of their conversation has you glancing back, refraining your steps to fill in your curiosity.

“We might be going too far with this, Hiromi.” Nanami told him once he came to his senses, showing you a fraction of his pity. However, Hiromi’s meaner, and pent up from the few days he made no contact.

“Look at her, Kento. She’s not even leaving.” You’re humiliated once again by Higuruma. However, the indignity their words caused has you in this undeniable pull. Nanami caught your gaze, before you grumpily stomped back to your cart.

Higuruma walked to you, “Are you?” The air hung heavy with his unspoken desire, and suddenly, you felt your confidence climbing up once again. You remained still, wanting to see how far Higuruma he’d cross the line today.

“I mean…” You muttered. He exchanges a knowing look with Nanami before closing the proximity between you two. He let his fingers travel your arms first, before sliding them at your back, pulling you in closer.

Suddenly, Nanami’s unannounced hands join in, welcoming

itself to explore your body. Your heart pounded against your chest at their hunger as your knees buckled under the weight of their hunger.

“You’re right where we want you to be.” Higuruma remarked against your neck before nibbling your exposed skin. Their touches ignited every nerve in your body, firing it up with anticipation. Every small contact they made with your skin had you on the edge of surrendering yourself. And it was hard to retain your confidence when Higuruma and Nanami were hitching your skirt up.

Higruma groaned, “I'm always right, Kento.” Then, he pressed his finger against your clothed clit with such pressure. He intently watched your face, examining every little twitch your mouth makes as he dug his finger more.

“W-Wha—” Before you could finish, Nanami grabbed your chin, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. He kissed you like a depraved man, tongue welcoming itself inside your mouth. He drowned out the noises you made as Higuruma continued rubbing you through your pink panties.

“She’ll look even better naked.” Without second thoughts, he dropped to his knees and tugged your panties down.

“Fuckin’ beautiful.” He breathed out, before licking your pussy in long, wet stripes. Lapping on it and spreading his mouth all over your sex while he gripped the soft plush of your ass closer to his face, practically inviting you to ride him.

“Do it, angel.” With Nanami’s assurance, you hesitantly grinded your cunt on Higuruma’s face, making sure to hit the soft tip of his nose. It panged you with a profound need, like you’ve just hit the jackpot. His nose. It was perfect. So perfect, like it was molded to have your pussy grinding on it.

It felt good. It’s only his tongue and Nanami’s hands playing with your nipples but it feels so good. Each sway of your hips has you whining for more.

“H-Hiroooo—!” Higuruma hummed in response to your mewls, sucking on your clit with more passion, before bringing his lips all over. He was relentless. Not a single spot of your dripping pussy was left unkissed.

Nanami kissed your forehead, such a starching difference from his filthy praises. “Ride it. Come on, I knooow my girl can do it.” You steadied yourself against his chest, breathless and writhing under his hold.

“Feel good? Mhm, you wanna feel more?”

“Pleaseeee— I wanna!”

“Atta girl, just like that. Ride it like you want it— Fuck.”

Nanami attempted to soothe you with his soft words, murmuring sweet praises for enduring Higuruma’s tongue. But you couldn’t even form a coherent thought— let alone actual words.

“So so soo good! Hiro— please!” Every noise that left your mouth was incomplete, babbling on and on about Higuruma’s tongue while gripping onto Nanami for your life.

“You cummin’ angel? You wanna cum all over Hiromi’s face?” The pleasure was blinding. All you can do is quickly nod and whine for more.

“Yes! yes please, please!” But once those words came out, Higuruma stopped all his movements abruptly, baring your wet, pulsing cunt.

“A girl like you… has to earn it.” Higuruma says in between his breaths. He could feel his dick screaming at him to be free— to be inside you.

You whined at the loss of his sweet lips and turned to Nanami with pleading eyes to coddle you. He simply smiled and pecked your forehead. “Cruel. You’re going to make her cry.”

Then, Higuruma interrupted your little moment with him, “Im fucking hard, Kento. Give her to me.” His impatience was evident with how he forced you to your knees, leading your hands to the belt at his waist. He looked down at you, watching you comply as you unbuckled them.

After his belt, came his pants and boxers. The sight of his bare and hard cock made you stifle a moan, taken aback by his unexpected size and girth.

“Show me you earn it.” He commanded, and you swiftly abided. Your tongue made contact with his bulging tip, swirling it around and spreading his pre-cum all over, before opening your mouth and taking him whole.

It was such a stretch having him inside your mouth— a challenge for him either. He cursed himself, restraint faltering at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth surrounding his shaft. Your head was guided by Nanami's hold on your hair, making it much harder to control himself. The thought of you being guided by his best friend makes him so horny.

As you hollow your cheeks and slid your head in and out, Higuruma’s fingers found its way wrapped in your hair, together with Nanami’s. “C’mon, doll, you gotta suck Hiromi's cock better than that." Nanami buried your head further, showing no sympathy for your pitiful state.

Your hands twitched at your sides, hinting at them to give you just a fraction of their kindness. But respect is earned both ways. When you had wickedly played with their minds, you’d be treated with anything but respect.

“A-A girl like you— shit- needs t’ be taught.”

With ease, he unbuckled his belt and placed his thick and heavy cock on your empty palm. He offered no comfort at your side now. His light, velvety touches at your cheeks were long discarded, replaced with his tip that bumped your puffed cheeks.

“L-look at her filthy mouth, Kento."

"You think— ah, fuuuck. You think she can handle two cocks at the same time?"

Higuruma drilled into your skull with each thrust that he made on your mouth. His lengthy cock protruded again and again and violated your vulgar mouth. However, the two men were unsatisfied at only ruining your face.

His chest heaved, unruly groans drawn out from his throat as you sloppily lolled your tongue on his tip.

"Shit, just like that." Your eager cunt pulsed at his erotic words. Obscene noises hung in the air, mixed with Higuruma's curses and Nanami's stifled groans.

"Shh, I know I know, you need to be quiet, angel. You don't want us getting caught, right?"

"Not even a minute in and she's already struggling— pfft."

"Maybe a few more sessions like this and she'll last longer, yeah?" Pity was finally granted when Higuruma slipped his dick out.

But you should've known that a torturous man like Higuruma had other intentions. "P-please, please touch me— mph!" He silenced your pleads with his cock, chuckling darkly at your muffled cries. Their pleasure is derived from humiliating you. You know this. But it feels good. So good when they defiled you publicly with nothing but a beverage cart covering you.

"Eyes here, angel."

Your mouth worked wonders on Higuruma's dick, slurping his leaked juices as Nanami furiously fucked your palm. Soft and smaller hands wrapped itself on his shaft, the contrast to his hard cock sent him in a dizzying haze.

The lewdness of your cries, your chin covered in drool, and your doll-like eyes that silently begged for more— you truly were a slut for pleasing them both.

The arousal from fucking out in the open and your erotic moans vibrating on their dicks did the job. Their humiliation is gone as they ride out their high, pulling their cocks from your grasp and aiming right at your fucked out face.

"F-fuck, keep looking at us like that, angel."

High on the pleasure from your tongue, cum shot out of Higuruma’s dick, coating your face messily as more and more of his thick, creamy, seed haphazardly painted your face.

"Fuck! Yes, yes yes yes..."

"S-shit, 'm coming too." Nanami wasted no time in entering your mouth, pleasure bursting within him as your tight, hot, mouth sucked him on instinct.

Their sticky semen coated your mouth, drool mixed with Nanami's cum dripped to the ground below, struggling to swallow his massive load.

As much as Nanami wants to give you a breather, time is currently ticking, inching closer and closer to the end of your shift. It's also only a matter of time before a coworker notices your absence.

In one swift motion, Nanami pulled you up from the grass, bending you over the cart’s side seat.

"Wait—" But Nanami doesn't. Instead, he lined up his throbbing dick and steadily pushed himself inside your pussy.

Your eyes shot open at the sudden feeling. Pussy filled to the brim, and you can swear he's grown larger, thicker, compared to when you had him on your palm. Your pussy clenched around him deliciously, struggling to adjust to his size.

"F-fuck fuck fuck…" There was an agonizing pain in how he stuffed you. Once he started, his pace was torturously slow, savoring your fluttering walls.

"too good 't much!" Though every effort in flailing your body away from Kento's grasp was in vain. Higuruma surrounded you, a scowl on his face.

"Fuck, Hiromi. She's clenching me good."

"You're one greedy fucker, Kento."

"So fucking tight…”

He shushed you to be quiet, but his cock sliding in and out of you drew out sinful noises from your lips.

Nanami had spent countless of nights fucking his fists to you. How you'd sound like and how you'd feel like. Now, it was undeniably incomparable to the tight squeeze your pussy gave, and the high pitched moans you cried out.

"S-shut her u-up, 's too noisy,"

"Feel good! S-sir Kento—!" Your tears stained your cheeks, mixed with the drool escaping your puffy lips. Under his slamming hips, lay his cruel hand, that kept on rubbing your clit in tune with his thrusts.

"C’mon baby one more cock— so good so so good" Higuruma whispered, encouraging you to take his cock in your mouth again. "You take us so good sweets. You're the sweetest."

Your shaking frame struggled to keep up with their brutal pacing, legs so weak Nanami had to lift up your hips, putting you in that position where you could feel every single inch of his cock.

In their own corrupt way, it was their way of putting you in your place— serving punishment by ramming their hips and hollowing your tight, dripping cunt.

"Fuck… she's squeezing me- shit."

Nanami panted, eyes clenched shut and slamming himself harder and deeper— doing anything to chase that high.

"You close, sweets?" Higuruma grinned,"Kento's dick feels that good?” He taunted you, knowing you couldn’t reply with your mouth full of his dick. You closed your eyes and let them digged your holes, thrusts so persistent you were molding into their little fuck toy.

After a few more thrusts, his pace started to become unsteady, drawn out and returning to fucking you so slow and sensually. He was close, so fucking close. You're not done yet but he was already right over the edge. Curse you and your tight pussy.

But Nanami was no quitter. He held it in and waited for any sign that you're near your climax too.

"Fuck fuck fuck— don't stop!"

Just the sign he needed.

With a long breath, he slammed his hips into you with such force, knocking you right off your feet.

Plap plap plap

You were a mess; jaw wide open, whimpering and clinging unto Nanami's arm around your waist, eyes squeezed shut.

Nanami fucked you until you're dumb, unraveling every coherent thought you could muster; fucking you in a way it had you turning into a cock hungry slut.

"She's cumming."

Plap plap plap

He didn’t stop. He didn’t want to. He needed to see your throbbing and stretched out cunt squeezing him dry. He wasn’t stopping unless you had that fucked out look across your pretty face. God, he begged himself to hold out for much longer, wanting to see you take all his cum.

All his efforts were worth it. In the end, he had you screaming out a shrilling whimper, flailing your body as pleasure electrified your whole frame. Surges of blinding light cascaded you, then the rest is a blur. The only vivid feeling was his persistent cock.

"Good..." plap "fuckin'..." plap "girl..." plap

Gone was the control he prided himself on. He filled you with everything he had been holding back, pushing you further with every wave of pleasure that erupted within him. He emptied his balls, all its contents now leaking out of your weeping pussy.

"What a fuckin' mess..." Higuruma cackled, before lifting your limp semi-conscious self in his arms. Although he wanted his arms wrapped around you in a sweet embrace, a gratification for enduring them, he did made a promise to himself.

“My turn.”

It's going to be a long, long night.

tags : @packsvlog @honeynanamin @rrssrios @misscigarettes @shokosbunny @shamelessdonutkryptonite @i1uvc4ke @dongh9e @freakadelik @tomurafrlover23 @sad-darksoul @glader13 @that-redheadd @beantokki @a-hidden-gem @joonsanswers @erenspersonalsexdoll @s-1-xx @shxniq @ilovetengen @zianaz-slvtz @jwnzlvr @wifenanami @20kglex @oromaangel @jejejjekskwl @s4m4nth4wrld @jaeminsmilk @alpha-mommy69 @lobsteeer @blackphoenix0718 @wrldldo @nappingmoon @cindyneko-strider @yumiecheesecrackers @rattats-world @mirrorballkento

© jellicatty | no plagiarising please (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

Chocolate Princess ♡

Willy Wonka x reader

Description - Y/n Ficklegruber can't help but become enamoured with the spectacularly peculiar man stood in the middle of the galleria.

Word count - 1.6k

warnings - fluff ♡

a/n: Watched Wonka today with my sister and my little cousins and honestly have never smiled so much during a film. Every bit of it was just pure wondourous imagination. And Timothee as Wonka was just too scrumptious! Who couldn't love him!

Masterlist

PART TWO

--♡--

I began everyday as I always did. Being ungraciously tumbled out of my pink satin sheets, poked and prodded by our various servants, squeezed into the most painstakingly prissy pink gingham dress (with a matching bow for extra faff), and hauled into my fathers car to join him on his way to work.

You see, I am the sole child of famed chocolatier Felix Ficklegruber. Since I had completed my mandatory years of studies, my days consisted of lounging about my fathers office in complete boredom. My mind practically weakened with the mundane repetitiveness of it all, and I knew it would surely combust if it was not stimulated soon. For 2 years now, I had been begging my father to allow me to study at the prestigious university at the edge of town. But each plea had been met with a scoff, an eyebrow raise and sharp “no”. Even the library was off limits.

I paced around his office, deliberately scuffing my mary janes against the carpet. I smirked at how each scrape made his face tick as if it was being flicked.

“Would you cease that infernal racket. I am trying to work, precious girl.”

“What work? All you do is sit up here eating your own chocolate.” I slumped down onto the disgustingly green couch.

“Please darling, you are giving me a headache, I must ring for my 8am mocha.” He picked up the telephone, clasping his fingers to his eyes.

I drummed my fingers against my dress and clicked my heels together. “You know,” I trailed off. “I wouldn’t be here to bother you at all if…I was at the library.”

The phone was slammed back onto the receiver which made me flinch. He rose from the desk and stalked his way towards me.

“No daughter of mine will be caught in some stuffy book prison-”

“That’s not entirely correct..”

“--That are refuge for the ugly, the untalented and the p–” He dry heaved. I winced at the possibility of another spew. “The p-” I lunged for a bowl as he spluttered.

“I know what you are going to say so maybe we should avoid any bodily functions.” I picked up his monogrammed hanky and wet it from my glass of water. I dabbed the cool liquid against his mouth. His eyes softened at my action and his hand softly clasped around my wrist.

“Sweetheart, you live in complete luxury. Have treasures other children couldn’t even dream of. Why can’t you just stay.” My gaze fell. His hands held my shoulders to turn me around and led me towards the towering window which overlooked the galleria. “Besides, one day you will inherit my pride and joy, my fortune, the very thing that ignites my soul, my–”

“Who’s that?” I interrupted, and pointed my finger to a beautifully disheveled man who had risen atop his suitcase in order to address the crowd. I quirked a smile and took in the strange man, who was truly more a boy, and his frightfully exciting appearance.

The thickness of the window meant I couldn’t hear what the boy was saying but his movements and expressions delighted me to no end. I giggled as he began to flap, mimicking a butterfly. I gasped as he produced from his shallow hat, a large jar of what appeared to be chocolate eggs. But once he took the top off, I shrieked in delight, as each little egg floated up as if carried by wings.

I felt my father stiffen before he shoved me away from the window.

“Now, now sweetheart. Do not bother looking at this man any longer. Clearly another hopeful vagrant but do not worry.” He lifted my chin with his pinky. “We shall deal with him right now.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly who was ‘we’.

--♡--

Once the three had left their respective stores, I snuck out of our own and managed to squeeze my way through the crowd so I was left behind my father and my, and I regret to say it, godfathers.

They each took a bite of the treats offered by the mysterious man who beamed at them with awe filled eyes.

Even from my limited view I could see the flickers of enjoyment cross each of their eyes as they questioned the different ingredients. But my gazing was caught by the top hatted man. His smile grew even brighter as our eyes met. I felt unsure in the presence of a man such as him and all my normal instincts failed. So I settled on a little wave. He offered a small wave back.

“--100%, the absolute WORST!”

The man jumped out of his skin in glee, mishearing Slugworth because of his focus on me.

“Did you hear that ladies and gentlemen, an endorsement by–wait did you say the worst?”

Anger bubbling in my blood, I finally made my presence known.

“You lie, Arthur. I saw your face! You haven’t enjoyed a treat that much since daddy figured out how to make marshmallow flavored chocolate milk.”

There were murmurs amongst the three in agreement and fond memory of that chocolate milk. But they snapped back and I was held firmly by my father who apologized to Slugworth for my rude behavior. A cane was held down on the hand that gripped me. I looked up and met the sweet face of its owner.

“I am terribly sorry.” With a practiced flick I was released. I looped my hand around my saviours available arm. He led me backwards in comical cautiousness. “But I don’t think she’d like to be held for what comes next.”

Suddenly, the three men began to lift into the air.

“The hoverbugs from mumbai! They love chocolate! You must have put their eggs in the treat!” I exclaimed excitedly, whilst watching the hilarious display.

“Exactly.” In my glee, I hadn’t noticed the adoring look which the chocolatier had fixed on the side of my head.

The fun was interrupted by the chief of police. I rolled my eyes. Slugworth must have phoned.

“Now Ms Ficklegruber if you’d kindly step away from the criminal.” The chief of police gestured and I was led away as they interrogated the man whose name I still didn’t know. I looked on sadly as he was forced to give up his earnings. I shoved off the policemen’s arms, I made my way back over to the man whose face was as solemn as how happy it had been just minutes before. The excitement around the galleria had dimmed as various floating consumers were returned to gravity.

“I am really sorry.” I gestured to the measly sovereign he was left with.

“Don’t be. It was a law and I broke it. These fine men were merely doing their job. But a new day shall bring new promise.” He soldiered on with a smile and once again patted his hat back upon his head. “At least I can make rent.” He flicked the sovereign up and caught it once again.

“Where are you staying?”

“Scrubbits.”

My face fell in sympathy. “You didn’t read the fine print?” I pitied the poor man and what was about to befall him. Scrubbits contract was a common warning amongst residents but as I truly took in the whimsical nature which surrounded this man, I knew he wasn't from here. And that made me smile. This place could use something new.

He sheepishly scratched the back of his head and lowered his eyeline.

“You can’t read?” I questioned but my tone couldn't help but soften.

“I always thought my mama would teach me, but eventually my pursuits became solely chocolate.” I reached out and grasped his arm. Stroking the velvet beneath my fingertips.

Before I even knew what they were, the words left my mouth. “I could teach you.”

He was surprised. “You would? But why?”

“You’re interesting.” I peered back to the shop which loomed behind me. “I need that.”

“Forgive me, I have not even introduced myself.” He took off his hat and leaned into a deep bow. “My name is Willy Wonka.”

I giggled but responded with a curtsy of my own. “Y/n Ficklegruber.”

At the mention of my last name he looked towards the ceiling where my father still hung, gesturing feebly. “Wow. You really have chocolate in your blood. No wonder you’re so sweet.” Both our eyes widened when we realized what he said. A blush spread across my heated cheeks and meeting Willy’s eyes suddenly became impossible.

“Y/N GET AWAY FROM THAT CANDY GRABBING SCOUNDREL!” My fathers voice beat down from the ceiling where he had been watching my entire interaction with Wonka.

“Meet me at the fountain, tonight, 10pm sharp. Daddy will be in a sugar crash by then. It’ll be easy to sneak out.”

Before I could rush off to avoid my father once his feet returned to earth, Willy halted my movements and placed his empty palm out in front of me.

“Before you go, I want to give you something. You shouldn’t have anything I make in bulk. You deserve something a little more…” He placed a cloth over his palm and ripped it off revealing a deep red chocolate heart decorated with tiny flakes of gold. “Bespoke.”

I placed the treat in my mouth and audibly moaned at the taste. This man was a true genius. My father is going to be so mad. I could jump for joy.

“Till tonight, Mr Wonka.”

“Please, call me Willy.” I leaned up and delicately kissed his cheek in a way of goodbye.

--♡--

That night after discovering the true horror of what being a “guest” of Scrubbits included, Willy begged and pleaded with his newest friend, Noodle, to help him sneak out for the night because, in his words, he’d seen…

“The most beautiful girl to ever exist and if I don’t get to see her again tonight, my heart might just burst out of my chest!”

--♡--

[tojikai]

Sundered 6: DREAMS

Pairing: Gojo x reader

• Part 1   |  Part 2   | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Alt. Ending

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, implied noncon, sexual assault

word count: 6.7k

He wished to tell you that he loves you too but that wouldn’t be right.

“Megumi.” Toji warned, raising a finger at the breathless, laughing toddler. “No jumping on the bed. You’ll fall.” He put an apple in his mouth as he watched them. You combed the ends of your hair, leaning on the doorframe. Toji was sitting on the bed, while the two kids were playing beside him, jumping up and down.

“Yui, baby, can I ask you something?” He gently picked the little girl up, glancing at you as he put the bowl of fruit down. He sat her on his lap, “Who's Gumi's Dada?” Yui looked up at him, pointing a finger at his chest. “Alright, very good. How about you? Who’s your Dada?” You know what he’s trying to make her understand.

Yui just developed that habit because oftentimes, Megumi would run and call Toji. And what her playmates do, Yui does too. She would follow him screaming ‘Dada’ as well, but Toji never failed to gently correct her. “Toru!” She raised her short hands, clapping as she looked at you. “That’s nice. So, you call Satoru Dada, okay?” He tapped her cheek.

“Toji no? No Dada?” She shook her head at him, asking. “Yes, just look at your hair.” You butted in, pointing playfully at her as you walked towards them. You can feel Toji’s eyes on you as you sit down in front of them. You’re still not over the conversation you had earlier. But you’re not letting the kids hear about that.

Yui was pulling at her hair, trying to see the color and looking back at Toji’s to check. “See? You and Satoru look the same.” You pinched her cheek “Yui hair white.” Megumi pointed at his playmate, “Yeah, you’re getting good at colors!” You raised your hand, asking for a high five, which he gladly returned with a shy smile.

Toji looked at you as you scooted beside him, before placing a hand on your thigh. He’s ready to apologize, but he doesn’t know if he can let it go. Toji’s mind is still stuck on that day you told him Satoru was still in love with you. And if he’s being honest, it puts him in a really rough spot.

“It’s getting late.” You tapped on your phone, allowing it to light up. “Why are they not tired yet?” You yawned, feeling his thumb rub on your skin. “'cause they ate the cake.” He sighed, stretching his back before staring at you again, “What?” You asked, watching him shake his head. “We got things to talk about.” He nodded.

“I know. Later, we will.” You moved to him, pecking his lip quickly, “We can’t talk about it with the children in here.” Scrolling through your contacts, you pressed Satoru’s number. “Yui, come here, we’ll talk to Dada.” Tapping a quick message that you’ll call, you sat your child in between your thighs.

“Do you want to say sorry to Dada? You were mean to him earlier.” You poked her side, watching her nod before throwing something at her playmate.”’Gumi, sit down first.” Toji told the boy and he followed, but only to continue playing with Yui. Megumi’s a quiet kid but with playmates around, he can get hyper too.

“Wait, what if he’s asleep now?” You asked Yui, “Maybe we can apologize tomorrow when he picks you up, okay?” You kissed her cheek, hearing her whine, “Now Mama. Yui says sorry.” She tried to grab the phone. “Okay, okay. Alright. Wait a second, we’ll try.” You pressed the telephone icon. There were multiple rings but no answer.

“Dada’s asleep.” You pouted at her, “He said he wants to sleep early so he can see you early tomorrow too!” You tickled her side, making her flinch with a smile, followed by fits of giggle that made Toji chuckle. ‘Gumi quickly replaced you, laughing with the little girl as he pokes her tummy.

“Let them play like that, they’ll get tired quicker,” Toji uttered, putting a hand behind his head. “What happened earlier? I thought it was his schedule today.” He asked, referring to the events earlier. “You said that his mom was there.” He added recalling what you were explaining to him before you fought.

“Yeah, and he had to take Yui back here with me. We were supposed to eat Yui’s cake there before he takes me home because that’s what she wants. But of course, the devil ruins things.” You rolled your eyes just thinking about his Mom. You still haven’t told your mother about it, knowing how she gets when it’s about you.

“Does Satoru’s father know that she’s like that?” It’s now your turn to nod, “He’s just tired of her, actually. I know.” His father’s always busy but you’d never forget how he’d always take your infant for a walk to give her some sun.

“Oh, I thought your son wasn’t married yet. Look at this cute baby girl.” An elderly man who once visited said to him, It worried you that your child was born out of wedlock. You used to avoid going out with them to avoid this type of situation but his father didn’t mind.

“They’re not married yet. This one’s a…”mini advanced gift” for us.” He chuckled, lightly bouncing the infant in his arms. “Oh, she's like a little girl version of Satoru.” The elderly cooed when Yui opened her eyes. Whenever Satoru’s mother tries to argue with you and he’s around, he’d also say a sentence or two just to stop her.

“You’re not thinking! Getting a baby’s ear pierced. What kind of a mo—” She rambled on, claiming that I was harming her granddaughter when they visited Satoru’s house. “You’re crying about this more than the child who got her ears pierced.” Satoru’s father cut her off, rubbing his temples as he sat beside her.

Satoru was taking a call outside and his mother just had to take this opportunity to antagonize you. “I’m her grandmother. I got the right to protect her. She’s a newborn!” His mother was hysterical and if it weren’t for Satoru’s father, you would be talking back to her by now. “She’s 5 months old, Aiko! She’s an infant. Stop arguing with the mother.”

You sat far from them, not wanting to scare the baby in your arms. “She’s not capable of—” His mother tried to retort but Satoru’s father was getting fed up “You’re not capable of understanding.” With that, the fight came to an end and after a few minutes, Satoru was walking back to the living room. “What’s going on?” He asked but his mother could only scowl.

After a little while, the kids started to get sleepy. Yui was whining as she rubbed her eyes, and Megumi kept asking for the phone. “You could let him watch something that could help him sleep. Like the—” You were about to suggest but Toji was already picking the child up, answering: “Ah, no. My wife used to cut off his screen time 30 minutes before sleep.”

You remained silent for a minute as you took off Yui’s hair ties. “Let’s go to bed.” You whispered after combing the toddler’s hair. “Come on, so we can talk.” You lifted Yui up before walking to her room with Toji trailing behind you. When Megumi and Toji stay over, he and Yui share a bed. Thankfully, it was big enough for the two of them as Yui rolls around a lot in her sleep.

You were supposed to sleep over at Toji’s house tonight. But because of the fight that you had, you figured that sleeping here would be more comfortable. It was good that he always kept some extra clothes for Megumi in his car.

Now, the two toddlers are peacefully sleeping and you two are starting to feel the tension again.

“You can go first, what is bothering you?” He asked as the two of you walked back to your room. You don’t know why but for some reason, you feel embarrassed that you’re getting jealous of his wife. Not only that but it also makes you feel overreacting. You took a deep breath as you closed your eyes, telling yourself that it was better to say it now than to let it get worse.

“It’s because…you keep talking about your wife.” You let your shoulders slouch as you plopped on the bed, watching his face contort into disbelief. “My wife?” He repeated, he looked at you as if you just told him a dark secret. “Toji, look. When you want to tell or suggest something to me, Can you not… always say that your wife did this and that? I mean… I just get uncomfortable.”

There was a pregnant pause as he straightened up, pacing back and forth as he thought of an answer. You wished he didn’t take that long because now it’s making you feel like it’s hard to decide between the living and the dead. It’s making you feel like you're not even in his top five; like you only come after someone who can't even be here.

It’s making you feel like you’re just the second best. And that’s all you’ll ever know of him too.

“Look, I am simply putting her words out. You know how much they mean to me, you know how much and what she means to me—” He sat down on a chair across the room, explaining as calmly as he can but that hurts and before you know it, you’re already asking him: “Then, what do I mean to you?” Toji looked at you, mouth slightly ajar.

“You’re jealous? Of my dead wife?” He tried to clarify like it’s the most unbelievable thing you said. “It’s not jealousy, I just—” He cut you off by exhaling harshly, rubbing his face. “She’s not here, Y/N. I could only think of her, but you’re here with me. How could you feel jealous about that?” It’s only making you feel bad; like what you’re feeling is trivial.

“It’s because you make me feel that way.” You clenched your fist. This type of pain is making you angry; not because it hurts too much but because it’s pissing you off that after everything during these months, he could still make you feel like this. “I know that if you're given a chance to choose you wouldn't want me in her place, but I wish you didn't make me feel like that too much.”

“Do you really just expect me to never reminisce about her? She’s my first wife. I lost her so suddenly I didn’t even have time to process it.” Everything that he’s saying is wrong to you and you’re not afraid to express. You cannot live with a man who probably wishes that you were someone else. “Then, why did you even date me?” Your words were sharp, like how you’re looking at him.

“And why did you even date me when you still can’t get over your ex?” He retorted, “You won't let me call you a petname because he used to call you that. How is that any different?” Now, he’s just as aggravated as you and you hated it. You hated arguing with him even if it was just about simple things and now that it’s not something simple, it frustrates you even more.

“Satoru isn’t dead, Toji. I wished that you called me something else because it’s triggering, and I don’t get to control that.” You tried to keep your voice down as your hands clenched. “I do it because I’m protecting my peace, not because I compare the things you do.” You panted, looking at him with nothing but exasperation in your eyes.

“Toji, I’m starting to feel like a placeholder.” You put your hands on your knees, hanging your head low. “I’m starting to feel like a stand-in for your dead wife. And you would keep telling me what she used to do so I could perfect it.” Biting your lip as you shook your head, “I wish you’d just understand me. I really want to try with you…”

He leaned back on the chair, keeping his eyes on you. “Look, Y/N. I’m sorry.” He spoke after a couple of seconds, “I can’t promise to not think about her because that person; that woman is the mother of my son.”

“And I want to try with you too, you know that. Maybe this will all get better with time. But I can’t find my peace knowing that he’s just there, loving you.” The room felt so big now that there was a space between you and Toji. A space that is bigger than the actual size of your room.

“Then, what should I do?” You asked him, genuinely clueless as to what he wanted to happen. “I don’t know, Y/N.” He shook his head, sighing. “What should you do when someone keeps trying to get to you?” There was an obvious answer to that.

“You know I can’t just do that. He’s the father of my daughter, Toji. You know where I’m coming from—” You looked at him, your eyebrows knitted together. “I don’t. He literally told you he regrets you and your daughter, isn’t that enough for you to take Yui away?” You shook your head, eyes tearing up as you realized what he just said.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that. Babe—” He walked towards you, grasping the weight of his words. “Don’t touch me.” You shut your eyes, not wanting to shed a tear anymore. “Just…just don’t talk to me right now, Toji.” Your hands gestured for him to stay back as you shook your head.

“I can’t believe you’d use my pain against me.” You whispered to him as you stood up, walking out of the room.

—------------------------------------------------

“What about…Yui?” Your eyes glimmered as you looked at him, “Ah…I like that.” Satoru smiled up at you, before leaning down. “Yui? Do you like that—” Before he could even finish his sentence, you stared at each other with wide eyes. “She just kicked…” He laughed, placing his hand on your bump.

“Yui. How’s my little girl?” He asked again, earning another kick after a couple of seconds. “That’s so cute, Satoru.” You gushed, happy tears pooling in your eyes. “She likes that name.” He sighed, kissing your stomach before standing up. The sinking sun made your eyes gleam.

“She’ll be here soon.” He kissed your forehead, putting his hand around your waist as he closed his eyes feeling the wind blow on his face. At that moment, he felt like he’s got everything already. At first, you talked about how everything you’ll do is just for the child.

But as months went by, seeing your face first thing in the morning and last thing in the night has already become Satoru’s favorite thing.

“What are you thinking about?” You looked up at him as you stood there on his balcony, holding his hands on your stomach. “You. So, kiss me.” He leaned down as you giggled, pecking his lips. “More.” He intertwined your fingers with his, brushing his nose on your outer ear until you gave him another one.

You wouldn’t have met if Satoru didn’t enter the bar you were working at, and that thought made Satoru grateful that he did because this is something he wouldn't want to miss.

“Y/N, stay with me.” He whispered, feeling you lean your body on him. “I love you...Y/N”

“Kiss me…” And so Naomi did, putting her lips on his as she tried to prepare him. She closed her eyes as he heard him hum, speaking other words unknown but she knew that it was to urge her to continue. “More…” The word made her exhale, relaxing more and more as he coaxed her, probably half asleep.

Maybe he’s just too sleepy and drunk. She thought, putting her hands on his chest to support herself. She raised her lower half, aligning herself with him. She traced her fingers on his arms before lacing them with his. She felt his warmth as she took a deep breath, thinking one last time before throwing it all away, frustrated.

She was ready to put it in, take all of him in her, and just let it all happen. You were a stranger to Satoru when he chose to keep a life with you. But I’m his girlfriend; his salvation and love. Satoru wouldn’t deny me and his child to me. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to find the final push to proceed.

But it only took one word from him for her to come back down. Her temperature dropped low as she felt her blood run cold.

“...Y/N.” Naomi halted her movements, eyes wide in shock. Did he just call your name in his sleep? “...Stay with me.” His brows furrowed in his sleep, and Naomi could only look as his image got blurry because of her tears. What? “I love you…Y/N.” She clasped her hand over her chest, trying to move away.

He’s dreaming about you? All this time? Tears fell from her face as she tried not to make another movement or sound. And he said he loves you? Her initial suspicions were right. Naomi’s throat constricted as she held in her sob. “No…” She whispered, finding it hard to breathe. Her ears were starting to ring as she struggled to get up.

*Ring. Ring. Ring.*

Naomi’s breath was knocked out of her lungs as she noticed Satoru’s phone ringing and vibrating beside his pillow. He can’t wake up. Not now… She thought as she forced her weak knees to work and grab the phone without startling him but it was impossible as it was right beside his head, partially covered by the pillow.

Before she could even get it, Satoru stirred awake, blinking his eyes up at her. “Naomi?” His eyes scanned her before realizing the situation she put the both of them in. “What the fuck?” His eyes went wide, trying to get up. Naomi was panicking, stepping off of him as he looked at her with confusion and disgust.

“S-Satoru, it isn’t like—” She tried to hold his hand, face wet with tears as he tried to get away from her, “What the fuck are you trying to do?” Pulling his pants before standing up. She picked up her silk robe, trying to give herself some decency as what she did started to sink into her. “Were you—fuck!” Satoru’s frustration was obvious, making Naomi flinch as she wept.

“Were trying to sleep with me while I was out?” His eyes were filled with emotions; dismay, disgust, fear, and disbelief. The last thing Satoru remembered was staring at his phone before he dozed off. Then, he remembered dreaming about you. Satoru rubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm. He knows that he shouldn’t have taken shot after shot even if he’s at home.

Satoru’s a lightweight and Naomi knows that. Could it be… “You made me drink on purpose.” His voice lowered as he pointed a finger at her. “No…I didn’t. I—” She tried to utter, voice coming out as a squeak, “I am not asking a question. I know that you did.” Satoru gritted through his teeth.

“Do you know what can happen to you?” Satoru walked towards her, glowering. “I could put you behind bars for this, Naomi.” Satoru was fuming, he didn't even know where the alcohol in his body went. He just knows that he’s dizzy. Raising his hand only to put it back down again, he doesn’t want to risk anything.

“What were you trying to do?” He spoke in a low voice, reaching for his phone on the bed. Your name was written in bold letters when he looked at his notifications. So, it was you who was calling. Once again saving him from whatever type of hell he got himself into. “N-nothing happened.” She shook her head, trying to convince him with her eyes.

“I’m not asking you if something happened or not, I’m asking about what you were trying to do.” His jaw and teeth hurt by how hard he is biting down. She sat there with tears cascading down her cheek while Satoru waited for her. “Please, don’t make me do this—”

He can't believe that a face as angelic and tame as this could do something so evil; so vile.

“Don’t make you do what? You feel embarrassed now but you weren’t embarrassed earlier when you were assaulting me!” He snapped, watching her eyes widen and her fear flashes on her face. “It’s not that, Satoru. I wasn’t trying to…” She walked to him, grabbing his hand with her cold ones. Satoru snatched his hand away, taking a step back.

His glares sent daggers to her heart. Never once has he been like this to her. “I…We were having problems. I thought that a…a child—” Naomi stopped talking, crying even more as Satoru closed his eyes and shook his head. He could tell that he was holding back on her.

“We were having problems so you thought having a child would fix it.” He finished for her, biting his lip. Her tendencies scared Satoru. He remembered how he decided not to tell her about his feelings for you earlier when he had every chance to because he felt bad. And now that one decision almost ruined him. “I’m gonna tell you now. Nothing will fix this.”

Naomi could feel her heart crack and break at his words. “Is it because of her?” She scowled, thinking about his mother’s words. “Is it because she got a boyfriend? Satoru, she's only trying to make you jealous—” She tried to explain, desperate to make him listen to her. “I don’t fucking care. I don’t care if she doesn’t take me back, I don’t care if she's only doing that to spite me.” Stopping, he took a step towards her.

“Naomi, I don’t give a fuck if she hurts me back because I fucking deserve it.” He panted, “For all the shit I put her through when I decided to be with you instead of fixing things as I promised her.” His mouth quivers as memories flash across his vision.

The day he let go, the day he started over for himself, the day he chose only for himself while you were out there waiting for a change.

“You know… I don’t regret meeting you. Because you helped me. You were a great friend to me. But I regret choosing you over Y/N. We should’ve never been something like this.” He sighed deeply, listening to her sniffles and apologies. “I should’ve just told you earlier that I’m still in love with her.” With that sentence, all her questions got answered. Naomi's world came apart.

“You’re getting checked tomorrow.” He stood up straight, grabbing his phone as he headed for the door. “Satoru, nothing happened, there’s no need to—” She tried to go after him, stopping when he paused by the door. “I don’t trust you.” He spoke before stepping out, leaving Naomi in the room with nothing but her broken heart, shame, and humiliation.

Satoru sat on the couch, running his hands through his hair. He stared blankly at the dark corner of his room, thinking about all the wrong paths he took. So much has happened and it’s not even a whole day yet. First, his mother ruined his child’s family day, and now— Cutting off his own thoughts, Satoru started to suspect something.

Naomi said she spoke to his mother. Is she, by any chance, involved with the decisions she came up with?

As much as Satoru hated to think about it, with the way his mother was acting, he couldn't help himself from thinking that she told Naomi something that made her do this. Even if she didn’t directly command her to do that, she could still be involved. Tears pooled in his eyes as he thought of it all. He did his everything to try and understand his mom, to be a good son to her.

“Naomi,” Storming back to the room, she found Naomi speaking on her phone. Terror appeared as she looked at him, hurriedly ending the call. Trudging towards her, she tried to put her phone away but with their size, it was impossible. “Who are you talking to?” He was far too angry to listen to her pleas and calls of his name.

She desperately tried to get it back but she was too late. “So, I was right? You talked to my mom about this.” He laughed bitterly, clenching the phone in his hand. “Satoru, let me explain, please. I won’t lie. We had a chat, we—” Naomi rambled on but Satoru was already pressing the call button, walking out as she chased after him.

“What?! You came up with that plan, deal with it!” Satoru can tell how annoyed she was by how she immediately answered, not even thinking about who it was. Satoru tried to keep Naomi away as she tried to grab the phone, calling her mom. “Did you coach her to violate your own son?” Satoru felt nauseous. He wants to throw up everything in his stomach.

“Satoru? No, honey, I didn’t tell her to—” Her voice cracked, shaking and tears finally escaped Satoru’s eyes. Naomi could only stand there, watching the man she loves break down because of what she did. Because of what they did. She should’ve listened to her conscience when it was telling her to stop.

Her desires brought her nothing but a quick, frail pleasure and a lifetime of agony. They gave her something to regret for the rest of her life.

“I’ll be in contact with Dad. And you won’t ever hear from me again once I settle all of this.” His voice was hoarse, low, and rough. Not giving himself a chance to hear his mother’s cries, Satoru ended the call. Before Naomi could even talk he was already harshly shrugging her touch off of him, “Don’t even try to explain. It’s clear to me now.”

“Satoru, can you just listen for a bit, I didn’t want to do that—'' She choked on her own sobs, “But you did! And I could get you arrested for it.” Satoru threatened, making her shake her head in fear. “You’ll get tested tomorrow.” He pointed a finger at her face, before turning to leave.

Entering his child’s room, Satoru sat on the bed, letting himself crumble and fall apart.

—-------------------------------------------

“Mama, mama!” You woke up to the feeling of someone jumping on the bed beside you. “Eat, Y/N. Let’s eat.” Looking down, you found two children looking at you in their pajamas. “Alright, alright. I’ll be up in a minute, calm down. “ You rubbed your eyes, smiling even as you remembered how the other night went.

After an hour of sitting in the kitchen, Toji came out. You refused to look at his face, but you can feel his cautious movements around you. You subtly wiped your cheeks, trying to hide the fact that you cried. You always know that it’s alright to cry to him, but for some reason, you feel like you’re so far away from him right now.

You felt like he was holding a weapon against you. One shot could be enough to tear you down again.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, after a couple of seconds of standing in front of you. You looked down, leaning on the kitchen counter. “I didn’t mean to say that.” Toji took a seat on one of the chairs, patiently waiting for you to respond. Sighing, you looked up at him, seeing him looking at you with contrite in his eyes.

“You’re a father too, Toji.” You tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear, before letting your hand rest on your nape. “I know, Y/N. I shouldn’t have said that.” Toji admits that he felt like you were being unfair to him. He didn’t realize that he was the one being unfair to Satoru when he’s obviously trying to stay at a distance.

“Please, understand that I’m not asking you to forget your wife. I just don’t like feeling like I’m…like I’m not enough.” You swallowed right after saying it, as if it’s a strong medicine that tasted bad enough to numb your tongue. “I’ve had enough of feeling like that.” It was barely above whisper, Toji didn’t really catch it but he wrapped you in his arms.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” Kissing your forehead, he felt you relax in his arms. Toji hated himself for making you feel like this again. He hated that he let himself project his feelings on you. The jealousy was coming from him and not you. He failed to understand your point because he was blinded by his bitterness over the fact that you and Satoru are finally getting along.

He didn’t even think of the child involved.

“I’m tired. I just want to sleep.” You murmured to his chest, “Alright, alright. Let’s go.” With that, you and Toji went to bed; with his arms around you and your back against his chest. You didn’t want your head against his chest, you can’t bring yourself to look in his eyes.

You were afraid that you’d hear a different name if you listened to the beat of his heart. It would be painful to see a different woman in the reflection in his eyes.

Picking up your phone, you felt the two kids lay beside you. There were texts from Satoru. You initially assumed that it’s probably because of your missed call from the night before but your brows furrowed in confusion when you saw how early he sent them. 4:37 in the morning.

Opening the messages, you heard Toji enter the room. “What are you two doing? I said "no jumping on the bed.”” Your eyes were glued to the screen of your phone, taking in every single word in Satoru’s messages. “Good morning,” You felt a kiss on your forehead, “You okay?” Toji asked, curious as to why you looked worried first thing in the morning.

“Satoru’s got matters, he can’t pick Yui up until later today.” You spoke, opening the next message. I saw your call last night. I couldn’t call back because it was late. I fell asleep early. “It’s probably because of what happened yesterday.” You caught a sigh escape from Toji’s lips. “He’ll be ok. He won’t let you get caught up in this.”

He sat down next to you as he looked at the screen, you didn’t bother hiding it, not wanting to make him feel like you’re hiding something. “Do you want to talk to him?” You looked at him as soon as the words escaped his lips. “It’s okay. He would say that if he needed that.” You replied, looking away after giving him a small smile.

“Well then let’s have breakfast, I cooked something. The kids woke up really early.” He chuckled, pecking your cheek. “I’ll be there.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into you as you kissed his ear. “Thank you so much.” You whispered to him, feeling his weight on you.

“Anything for you.” Only Toji knows how much he meant those words.

—-------------------------------------------

“It will be out in two days.” Satoru threw the car keys on the couch, before walking towards the stairs. “You can take all your belongings. If I–“ He trailed but Naomi cut him off, “Satoru, I’m sorry. I was just desperate to–“ He gave her a warning look, making her look down. He’s been nothing but cold to her.

“You’re desperate so you tried to do that to me?” He shook his head, “You know, I’m sorry too. I regret that I didn’t just tell you what was really going on. I should've just broken up with you that day. I thought I could save it if I tried, even just for the sake of the time we were together and what you did for me, but I can’t. This wouldn't have happened, you wouldn't have gotten a chance to do that.” Satoru was getting harsher and harsher with his words.

Filled with mixed emotions, he watched as the woman he trusted cried again. She’s been crying since the night before but he couldn’t find it in himself to comfort her. He doesn’t even want to be under the same roof as her at that moment. When he thinks about what could’ve happened if he didn’t wake up on time, or if you didn’t call, all he feels is dread.

“I will be the first to touch the test results.” Satoru declared as he clenched his jaw, “Satoru…can’t we just wait until—” Naomi tried to grab his arm, looking at him with teary, pleading eyes. She’s shaking, and her fingers are freezing. “Wait until what? ‘Till I can’t go back? ‘Til you achieve what you’re trying to do?! ‘Til you ruin every hope that I have?!” The woman cowers in fear and embarrassment.

“Naomi, are you not scared? Of this mess that you got me in?” He hissed at her face, watching her look down as she sobbed. She’s visibly trembling at this point, “You should be ashamed.” Satoru nodded his head, clenching his fists. “For what you’ve done... you should be ashamed.” He walked out of the room, slamming the door on her as she fell down to her knees, wailing.

Locking the door, Satoru changed quickly, before laying down on the bed. His head’s been killing him since last night; hangover, sleeplessness and stress are continuously tearing through every muscle. He looked at his phone, seeing the hundred missed calls from his mom who probably came earlier, as expected, when they went to the hospital.

Satoru was just about to put his phone down when it started to vibrate. Your contact with a picture of Yui and you flashed on the screen. He didn’t waste any time answering the video call. Seeing his little girl made all the tiredness leave his body. She looked down at the phone, smiling at him.

“Dada! Dada, Hi!” Waving at him, “Hey, baby. I’ll pick you up in a bit, alright? Dada just needs to nap.” He watched her scrunch her brows, seeing your frowning face for a second. “Yui don’t want.” She whined, hearing the word ‘nap.’ Laughing, Satoru saw you peek on the screen, “Not Yui. Dada will nap.”

“Take your time to rest. You look really tired.” You talked, holding a baby plate in your hand. “I just noticed she’s starting to look like you.” He chuckled, sighing as his eyes blinked slowly. You remained silent on the other end of the line, feeding a spoon full to the toddler.

“What were you going to say to Dada?” You talked to Yui, wiping her chin. “Sorry. Yui, uhm, Yui not nice.” The view kept shaking as she struggled to hold the phone in her small hands. “It’s ok, baby. Dada will buy you the cake, as promised.” The way her eyes lit up as she heard the word made Satoru forget about his problems.

After a little bit of talking and watching his daughter eat, you took the phone from her but still kept the camera on her face. “Say bye-bye now, let Dada sleep for a bit.” You spoke, and the kid obediently followed, waving her father goodbye, “Bye-bye. Dada.” She looked up at you, “See you later,” Repeating each word you say, Satoru could only tell her how much he loves her.

He wished to tell you that he loves you too but that wouldn’t be right.

“I’ll call later. “ He talked to you, hearing you hum, “Alright, rest well.” With that, you ended the call, leaving Satoru on the verge of sleep. He prayed to dream of you and maybe even do the things that he wished to do with you. He wished that he could just ask you to hold him before he breaks down again.

He realized that all this time, it’s you, it’s your arms that he needed to put him back together again permanently and not just as some sort of comfort that could so easily break. If he had a choice to turn back time, he’d turn it all the way back to when you, Yui, and he were together; not before he met you.

Because even if his relationship with you began with an obligation, it was still his choice to love you.

—------------------------------------------------------

TWO DAYS LATER

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. It’s alright.” He spoke to the phone, struggling to put his seatbelt on. Satoru’s been anxious, he couldn’t even sleep properly. Today, he’ll be receiving the test results. “I just got back from Toji’s, and he’s got something to do so he couldn’t take me to pick Yui up.” You sighed from the other line.

You were about to take a cab to Satoru’s house but he insisted that he’ll just drop Yui off back to you. “Let’s talk about the car next time, okay? So, you don’t have to commute.” He reminded, hearing you hum. “Yeah, ok. I’ll tell Toji about it too.” With that, you bid farewell, telling him to drive safely before dropping the call.

“Alright, let’s go to Mama.” Satoru looked over at his daughter who was sucking on her binky. She nodded eagerly, wiggling her little legs as she claps her small hands. Satoru didn’t tell you about what happened with Naomi. He doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to. That night was still clear to him. He closed his eyes, grabbing the steering wheel before starting to drive.

The car ride to your house was filled with little giggles and occasional singing of his little girl. She slowed Satoru down, preventing his mind from overheating from thinking about things as she playfully calls him every now and then. "Dada! Yui hair!" She pulled at the strands, scrunching her nose as she laughed. "Dada hair!" Her fingers pointed at him.

Satoru smiled at her through the mirror, instantly understanding what she was implying. "Ah, yes, we have the same hair." He cooed, making the little girl cover her eyes as she smiled, "You're a smart kid." In no time, the two of them reached your apartment. The kid kept hugging her Dad as they walked up your steps, as if sensing his distress.

"Baby!" You opened the door for them, kissing Yui's cheek. He can see your eyes scan his face, a hint of worry was etched on your features, "Would you like to come in? How did things go?" You were reluctant to ask the question, worried that it might be a bit too private for you to know. But it looked like he needed it when a small, sad smile appeared on his lips.

"Not good," He sighed, "I'll tell you about it some other time." Satoru went inside but only to put down his daughter's bag. "I, uh, have a delivery coming today, so…" Nodding, your mouth formed an 'O' shape, "Alright, you better get back then. Say bye to Dada." You adjusted your daughter on your hip, urging her to give her father a kiss.

"Bye love, I'll see you in a few days." He pecked the kids forehead, patting her hair and smiling at you as he went. His head, his heart and his feet felt heavy as he walked away. It's like the second Satoru left your apartment, his headache was back knowing that whatever's waiting for him at his house could be another obstacle to pass. And the worst; it could be something that he can never run away from.

He arrived only a couple of minutes earlier than the mailman. The envelope felt like a tonne in his hand as he took it, signing quickly before thanking the worker. Satoru stared at it as he walked to his living room, sitting down on the couch when he felt like his knees were about to give up. With cold fingers, he opened it, going directly to the section where he could find his peace.

Eyes widening as he breathed out the air he didn't know was holding in, he slammed the papers on the table as he pulled his phone out and dialed the number he's been hoping to call ever since the incident.

"Dad, I need to talk to you."

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[peachdues]

AGING HEADCANONS — SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA

just a lighthearted drabble about Sanemi dealing with the effects of age on his body.

CW: 600 words • MDNI • suggestive/implied sexual content • comfort • fluff

Sanemi Shinazugawa strikes me as the type to retain a great deal of his strength as he ages. He takes pride in his muscles, and even after the Corps is disbanded, he keeps up his physique. After all, while the threat of demons has been purged from the earth, humans are still a fickle enemy. Best to be prepared to defend himself — and his family — at all times.

But what Sanemi is not prepared for is the impact his rigorous training has on his body as he gets older. Sure, he’s strong; always has been, always will be. Unfortunately for the former Wind Hashira, however, Sanemi is learning that reaching his forties has its consequences.

His joints, for example, are just the latest casualty.

“The fuck do you mean I threw a hip out?” He grumbles you help him settle into your sofa with a grunt. “I’ve done these exercises every day for more than twenty damn years —“

“Not as flexible as you were in your twenties, are you?” You half-scold, half tease, wiping your hand across your damp forehead.

When you’d awoken that morning, you hadn’t expected the labor of lugging your husband back inside his mansion before he’d completed his morning training.

You’d been in the middle of preparing tea for you to share once he’d finished — a well-settled part of your routine, one you knew he looked forward to as much as you did, even now, twenty years after you’d married. Never before had this sacred ritual been disrupted until this morning, when Sanemi’s strangled yell sent the birds scattering into the sky, and the tea kettle nearly out of your hands.

You’d hurried out into your gardens, where Sanemi maintained his sparring ring, complete with thick, wooden posts and an orderly litter of training weapons. There, sprawled across the ground, had been your husband, spitting every filthy word in his lexicon into the dirt, his hand gingerly braced atop his right hip.

In your retirement from the Demon Slayer Corps, Sanemi had been the more active one between the two of you. You regretted not keeping up with training, however, when you’d been forced to shove your shoulder under your husband’s and half-heave, half-drag him back inside your shared estate.

Once settled, you help guide Sanemi’s right leg up onto the cushion, keeping his hip elevated. “I’ll ring for Kanao or one of her girls, later.”

The Kamado family lived well over an hour away in the mountains. Had Sanemi been injured even a decade earlier, you would’ve panicked. While you were certain the doctors in the nearby prefecture were perfectly competent, there were none you trusted more than Kanao or her daughters. Thankfully, you no longer had to rely on crows or even mail services to reach them, Sanemi having purchased a telephone a few years earlier.

To your surprise, Sanemi doesn’t argue, instead turning his attention to the way you rub at the small of your back.“You okay?”

“Better than you,” you retort easily, forcing yourself to walk away, spine straight, into the kitchen to fetch the tea you’d prepared. Like you’d let him see how age was beginning to affect you, too. Heaven knows the kind of trouble you’d be in if both of you were down for the count, and you don’t think you could survive the embarrassment of sending after one of your children for assistance.

You return a moment later with the tea tray, laden with the delicate china Sanemi had gifted to you on your wedding day. He grunts his thanks when you hand him his cup, filled halfway with his tea of choice — green — sharp and bitter, the way he liked.

You busy yourself with pouring tea for yourself. “Maybe this is your sign to ease up. It’s perfectly normal that you can’t do the same things you once could, you know.”

He deflects with a cocky, smug grin. “Don’t have any trouble keepin’ up with you, darlin’. At least, you haven’t had any complaints.”

Humming, you settle into one of the great armchairs across from him. “If memory serves me right, your knee popped rather loudly the other night.”

He’d been thrusting hard up into you while you braced your hands against the headboard when a loud pop! had disrupted the steady rhythm of your hips. And, try as he might, your husband’s furtive attempt at covering the sound with a loud moan hadn’t been successful.

Sanemi’s cheeks redden, and he drops his gaze back to his tea, muttering under his breath. You smirk. Y/N, one; Sanemi, zero.

“Gettin’ old sucks,” he sighs, blowing on the steaming liquid. “Bet fuckin’ Uzui doesn’t have to deal with this shit. Tomioka and I are the only ones who still train consistently.”

“Yes, well, Uzui has his plate full.”

It was true; between three wives and four children, you reckon the former Sound Hashira got more than his fair share of physical activity.

You glance to your husband, then, chewing lightly on your lip. “I’m happy you have these issues, you know. These aches and pains — I think they’re a good thing.”

Sanemi snorts, though his eyes warm when he meets your gaze across the sitting room. “You just like seein’ me knocked down a few pegs.”

“Not at all,” you set your tea cup on the lacquered table between you and smooth your hands over your skirt. “I like knowing you’re here to age.”

Solemnity passes over his face then, softening the irritated set of his mouth. You know, as well as he, how lucky the two of you are to be sitting here, bemoaning the woes of aging, when so many of your comrades hadn’t the same fortune.

Every morning you see is a blessing; every new line appearing by your eyes or the corners of your mouths, a luxury far too many never got to indulge. No matter how inconvenient your stiffening joints or limited mobility became, you would never not be grateful.

When Sanemi finds his voice, it is hoarse with emotion. “Get over here. I wanna kiss you.”

Oh, you would love nothing more, but now that you’ve sat down, you find the concept of standing up almost an impossible feat. Perhaps the two of you really are doomed.

Busted, you grin, sheepish. “Can’t. My back is a little more sore than I let on.”

Sanemi groans and you laugh. “Then I stand by what I said. Gettin’ old fuckin’ sucks.”

[monstersholygrail]

*cue me draped over a dining chair talking on a telephone while twirling the cord*

“RING RING ITS GARGOYLE HOURS BABY! I WANT A BIG OL’ STORY WITH A DND NERD GARGOYLE AND BANSHEE READER WHO NEEDS HIM CARNALLY AND IS VERY VOCAL!!”

*hangs up before you can respond*

-☎️

*proceeds to call you back over and over again but hang up just as you answer and then giggle like a schoolgirl*

WC: 1.8k

You had it bad. You were absolutely down bad and wrecked for the Gargoyle bartender you had met long ago at your usual bar. In fact, he was the only one you ever really bothered to talk there.

Not many people went looking to pick a Banshee up at a bar. I guess screaming in ecstasy was easily confused with screaming for their impending death. Was death not hot as fuck? You had no idea at this point.

But the Gargoyle bartender was the only one who ever really caught your eye anyway. It didn’t help that not only was he stunningly gorgeous, but he had an amazing personality too. He was a total nerd under all those chiseled stone muscles and frequently acted as the Dungeon Master in your groups DnD campaigns.

You frequently found yourself drifting off in thought, subtly staring at him during game nights or during nights like this. Thats what you were doing even now, stuck in your head thinking about him as you order drink after drink. You didn’t even realize how late it had gone and how much you had to drink.

Until you went to stand up and the world immediately spun. You wobbled, letting out a loud ‘woah’ into the almost empty bar. Luckily Gargoyle bartender was right there to help steady you. A husky chuckle falling past his lips.

“Let me drive you home. I don’t trust anyone else with you right now,” he said into your ear.

Your pussy gushes with arousal, clenching around nothing at his words alone. They send a thrill up your spine and your drink-infused mind leans into him a little too much. But he doesn’t hesitate to firmly hold onto your wide waist to keep you stable against him.

The ride back to your place is silent. Yet comfortable. You two have done a lot together. Battling monsters and going on all sorts of adventures. Through a game, true, but they last hours and go on for months. You trust him.

He helps you up to your apartment due to the fact that the moment he let you go outside of his car you nearly stumbled into the concrete. Walking into your apartment he moves around the space with ease. Having spent more than a handful of game nights here.

Setting you down on your couch he moves to get you some water to help flush the alcohol from your mind. He sits with you, the two of you talking and laughing for hours. Suddenly you’re back to where you were at the bar. Downing drinks and staring the beautiful Gargoyle. Only this time you don’t have to be subtle about it.

By the look in his eyes you could see he was waiting for something. It wasn’t until all the fog had cleared in your mind, your eyes had dried up, and you seemed to get your focus back that you knew what he was waiting for. As if a chain had finally broken, Gargoyle bartender swoops down and captures your lips in a heated kiss.

You inhale sharply, leaning into him immediately. Not believing this was happening. This was really happening. It was all that ran through your mind as the two of you stumbled into your bedroom, throwing your clothes off along the way.

Rolling onto the bed you sprawl out, spreading your thighs wide for him. The moonlight casting a brilliant glow on your glistening folds. The gargoyle growls at your enticing form. His hand curls around his hard aching cock, pumping himself slowly as he watches you clench around nothing.

“Touch yourself,” he snarls. “You don’t know how many nights I’ve spent imagining what you look like touching yourself.”

Your eyes widen and there’s nothing that could’ve stopped you in that moment from sliding your hand down your body. You moan softly as you dip your fingers into your folds, spreading them and showing him all of you. He growls again and you shiver in anticipation, your need for him unbearable.

He slowly works his cock to the sight of you teasing and exploring your cunt as if it’s the first time you’ve ever touched yourself. It has his every nerve on edge. All while your body is shaking, your fingers dripping into your soaked pussy and imagining it’s his thick cock. But god, you know your fingers can’t even compare.

You don’t know how long the two of you go on. Edging yourselves, slowly bringing your bodies to the edge of release. Merely from the sight of watching each other use your hands to bring you to release. You rock into your fingers, body shaking, the tension in the air only making you want his cock that much more.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he says through panting breaths. Your head snaps up to meet his eye and you cry out, a mix of pain and pleasure coursing through you. “Not like this. I want every moment of our first time together burned into your memory.”

“I’m not gonna forget this,” you moan, fucking your fingers even harder.

He laughs, the loud deep and raspy. His hand picks up to match with your pace and he moans, throwing his head back. Only then does he see the rising sun. His eyes widen in alarm.

“F-fuck!”

What you thought was a noise of pleasure has your body going over the edge. Your hips jerk into your hand and you moan loudly as your orgasm crashes through you. Your eyes closing in ecstasy. Gargoyle bartender watches you come undone. He grunts, about to cum himself when suddenly he can’t move.

A second later his body turns to stone, the sunlight pours through the windows and illuminates his strong features. As you come down from your release your eyes flutter open and you immediately gasp to see your Gargoyle a frozen statue standing at the end of your bed.

You knew gargoyles turned to statues in the sun. Your game nights were always exactly that. At night. He worked the night shift at the bar. But you had no idea his stone state looked like this. You didn’t exactly know what to do. You assume there is nothing you can do until the sun sets.

But in the meantime… he’s stuck exactly where he is. Frozen on the edge of a climax. You also know that gargoyles can see feel, hear, and see everything around them while in their stone state.

Oh, you could have fun with this.

You spend the entire day relentlessly torturing him. After you come up with your plan, you head off to take a shower. Not bothering to hide your plush form from his frozen eyes with a towel as you leave your room naked and come back naked.

Given that it was the weekend and you had nowhere to be, you didn’t see the point in wearing clothes at all.

Sometimes during the way you’d watch by, brush your hands along his skin. Every inch you thought might be sensitive. Even his frozen hard cock. But you only bother with lingering touches that were sure to drive him mad.

The day passes by quickly as you come up with way after way of teasing the Gargoyle.

Eventually you come up with the bright idea to put on some spicy entertainment on the tv. That way you can not only tease him with yourself, but with those in the videos as well. Your selection has more than the desired affect as you begin to squirm on your bed, moaning softly. Your hands going back to where they were this morning.

You get lost in the moment, so focused on your own pleasure that you forget everything else. The gargoyle at the end of your bed for one thing. But especially the setting sun.

The first thing the Gargoyle can smell is your arousal. The last thing he had smelt before turning to stone welcomes him back as he returns to flesh. It perfumes the air and riddles his mind with blinding lust. His hand flies off his cock, not wanting to waste his seed on touching himself. Not when you’ve been so naughty all day.

You hear a low growl pierce the air and you freeze. The people on the television long forgotten. You barely have time to look to the end of your bed as he’s pouncing on top of you. All you see is a blur and the next thing you feel is his thick leaking tip making a mess of your folds.

“Was it worth it?” He snarls, meeting your wide eyes. You know you’re in some serious danger but you prepare yourself to get the best fuck of your life.

“Yes,” you don’t hesitate to say.

“No fucking remorse?”

With another growl he slams his cock inside you. Both of you release fierce screams into the air. He doesn’t give you a moment to breathe. It’s only fair after what you’ve been doing to him all day and you welcome it. Writhing and moaning on his cock. Desperately trying to buck up into his furious thrusts.

Gargoyle swears he sees red as he pounds his cock inside you. The sound of your joining echoing off the walls and overpowering the video still running on the tv.

His claws sink into your curvy hips and you arch into him, wanting everything he’ll give you. He brings you down on his massive length even harder, wanting to tease you as much as you’ve been teasing him all day.

And he just does that with the skillful way his dick glides along your wet gummy walls. Keeping you right on the edge just as you had done to him. He leans over you, surrounding you completely and you happily let yourself be consumed.

With this new angle he shifts his hips, grinding his pelvis roughly against your clit. The unique texture of his stone-like skin has your body buzzing and tingly. You let go almost immediately and he makes you cum so hard you can’t hold in your banshee scream as you clench down hard around his length.

The Gargoyle grunts as you squeeze his cock, milking it for all its worth. You’re so perfect, so tight around him. He can’t possibly hold back for another second. He throws his head back, letting out a roar that rivals your scream as he cums deep inside you.

Spurt after spurt it seems never ending. An entire day worth of being pent up spills inside of you. Your body trembles with the aftershocks as you feel him fill you up, keeping your body stuffed full of him.

You sigh in relief, a sense of contentment coursing through you. You had been waiting all day for this too. And it was even better than you imagined. But as you look up at the Gargoyle, catching his heated predatory gaze, you know the night is long from over.

And he doesn’t plan on stopping until the sun comes up.

[trivia-yandere]

autumn of terror

the small town of oakville is being taken over by a serial killer who goes by "the ripper" who uses fear as a tactic to control the town entire. you, an out of town detective, team up with head detective of oakville kim seokjin, to take down the ripper. @sweetempathprunetree @momnomnom @darkuni63 @bangtans-momma @chimmy-licious @investedreader

word count: 16.773

warning: blood, character deaths, smut, reader is blindfolded, dub-con moments, slight mention of child abuse/abandonment, voyeurism, oral sex (m/f), handjob, dub-con.non-con elements, dirty talk, degradation, nipple sucking, thigh riding, overstimulation, squirting, unprotected sex, mentions of human trafficking,

halloween masterlist - happy spooky season!!

The leaves crumble beneath your feet as you step onto the pavement, a chill running up your spine at how chilly it was this autumn. The breeze runs through your hair and pierces against your skin like a knife. Your breathing is evident in the harsh, cold weather and your nose automatically sniffles.

Your legs continue to walk up the shallow stairs of the building, your gloved hand grasping the door handle and pulling it open. Warm air engulfs you and you sigh in relief, rushing inside. 

It’s chaotic inside said building - there’s several phones ringing nearly nonstop, people running around in a frenzy. You never seen a precinct be in such a ruckus. There’s a crowd forming inside, all of which are hollering out demands while there are several police officers attempting to hold them back.

Your eyes scan the large precinct, eyes unsure where to fall - the telephones are ringing nonstop and you notice they are several officers already speaking. Officers who are attempting to keep the crowd at bay are seconds from drawing their weapons.

“What are you doing to catch the Ripper?!”

“How many people have to die before the Ripper is caught?!”

The Ripper.

The Ripper was the reason why you were here - all the way from your own town. The Ripper has taken over the town of Oakville spanning back to the end of summer. It began with one or two murders a week - it caused mumbles in the streets of Oakville. Murders so gruesome didn’t happen in said town - blood splattering the streets and the walls, intestines sprawling outside of the body and seemingly dragged away for miles.

One or two murders a week became murders every night - each murder more gruesome and cruel than the last. It caused a frenzy throughout the town that had officers and detectives working overtime for any clues; the Ripper left none.

As Autumn creeped in, it appeared as if the Ripper’s identity had remained a secret, but that didn’t mean that the Ripper worked alone. 

“Excuse me?” you clear your throat, waving your hand high to grab the attention of the officers. “I’m here to speak to Detective Kim? I’m Detective-”

“Y/L Y/N.”

There’s a door to the far right that opens and you hear the ragged voice of just the man you were looking for. Seokjin is tall and his shoulders broad - they appear to be stressed as the weight of the town depends solely on his shoulders. “Come, please.” he says, waving you over to his office. “We’ve been expecting you.”

You do as you’re asked, rushing towards the man's office where he quickly slams the door shut and locks it in case anyone from the crowd wants to follow after you.

“Coffee?” Seokjin asks - the question comes out as a sigh. You assume that he uses coffee to keep himself sane and awake. There’s slight bags underneath his eyes and you understand that he must be working overtime to figure out clues.

“Uh, yes. I’ll make it.” you nod your head, making your way towards the pot of coffee that’s on the shelves while Seokjin makes his way around to his desk. “So, what do we have so far, detective?”

“Please,” Seokjin huffs with a shake of his head. He falls onto his office chair and opens up a few documents. “You can call me Seokjin or even Jin. We’re going to be well acquainted if we’re going to be working together.”

You nod your head at him. “Yes, Jin.” you say, the little nickname sounding foreign to your tongue. 

It was a month prior when you got a call from Kim Seokjin, lead detective from Oakville, a small town a few hours from your own. The man appears slightly frantic and desperate, explaining that every precinct he has called for assistance outside of his town had refused any assistance - an act you found completely cowardly. You had agreed to help him with the investigation no matter how long it took and he was grateful.

You listen to Jin speak as you pour sugar and milk into your coffee.

“Right, as you know,” Jin begins, leaning back into his chair. “the Ripper has been plaguing this town for months now. The townspeople are utterly terrified of him - them.”

“You believe the Ripper is more than one person?” you ask, blowing at your coffee.

Jin shrugs. “It’s a possibility,” he states. “Nothing is off the table. I believe the Ripper is just the head of an organization - the same gang we have around Oakvale now.”

“Explain further, please.” you sip your coffee, leaning against the wall as your eyes watch Jin. 

Jin sighs. His right hand reaches up to rub at his temple. 

“There’s a small gang that we are positive that operates at the Ripper’s orders. We have someone on the inside undercover.” Jin says, glancing up at you. “By his words, none of them has seen the Ripper face to face, only speaks to him over the phone or through letters and such.”

You furrow your brows. “Interesting.” you murmur. You place your cup of coffee on the shelf and cross your arms, grateful that you were beginning to warm up. “The Ripper is doing a great job at remaining anonymous.”

“Tell me about it.”  Jin scoffs. “I had one of my men go undercover nearly a month ago and has seen everything except the Ripper.”

“I see.” you hum. “What is the plan while he’s on the inside?”

“The Ripper is one hell of a killer and none of those working under him is as calculated as he is.” Jin opens up a few envelopes. “His kills are truly horrifying and demeaning and this is how he even keeps his own gang in line. They’re just as terrified of him as we are.”

Jin continues. “I’ve seen this town go from safe to completely…barbaric. Prostitution is at an all time high on the outskirts of the town and my detective tells me that some of them are forced into it. The townspeople are attempting to take matters into their own hands and have physically brought in who they assume the Ripper is.”

You believe it, the angry crowd outside were just as restless and afraid. “I take it as none of the suspects were the Ripper.”

Jin snickers with a shake of his head. “You’re catching on quick, Y/N. Can I call you by name?” he asks, and when you nod, he continues. “By what I’ve seen the Ripper can do, he would not let a few townspeople catch him. He’s truly a force of nature…a shadow.”

“You must’ve had a lot on your plate.” you take another sip of your coffee. 

“Indeed I have. Detectives and officers have quit because they received threatening letters…by the Ripper.” Jin glances your way, analyzing your reaction. “I should have told you before-”

“I understand why you haven’t.” you interrupt. “I’m from out of town, Jin. I won’t be scared away by the Ripper.”

Jin exhales.  “I hope so. We need all the help we can get.” he admits, eyes glancing back down at the stack of documents. “Do you have any questions?”

“Well, for one…is there a spare room around here? I already told my captain that I won’t be returning until the Ripper is caught.”

Jin’s eyes slightly widened. You were serious about staying and helping.

“I can have a room made for you!” Jin nods his head. “I live right above the precinct, as sad as that sounds. I have basically lived here myself ever since the murders.”

“Thank you.” you nod, offering a soft smile. “My next question is, what do you think we should do to take down the Ripper? I have a few of my own.”

“Please, explain.”

“Well,” you step forward to sit across from him in the arm chair. “The Ripper doesn’t work alone. I say we take down as many of his little gang and that should be able to draw him out, right? Your detective on the inside should be able to help with that.”

Jin slowly nods his head. He places a hand on his chin.

“We start by taking down whatever businesses he has. The prostitution ring is just the beginning I’m sure. There has to be a reason why he’s doing all of this.”

“Control? He’s completely taken over the city.” Jin shakes his head once more. “My detective said there’s parties nearly every other day at a secluded location.”

You nod. “That’s what the prostitutes are far, I’m sure. Maybe there may even be…higher officials at these parties?”

Jin tilts his head. “You mean like…?”

“Officers. Politicians and more. People in high places with power.” It wouldn’t be a surprise to you that this is why the Ripper can remain as anonymous as he does.

Jin releases another exhale. He licks his lips, beady eyes blinking a few times. 

“You can be right, Y/N. We’ll have to infiltrate these parties.”

“We do. If I may,” you lean forward, elbows on his desk. “do you believe we should have another insider?”

“How so?”

“Well, like me?” you tilt your head. “I’m a new face. The Ripper nor anyone working for him would know who I am.”

“Y/N,” Jin goes to shake his head. “I don’t think-”

“The closest to the Ripper’s operation are the prostitutes, are they not?”

Jin’s beady eyes widened. “Y-You want to go undercover as a prostitute? Y/N,” he releases a shaky chuckle. “that is completely dangerous.”

“I’m well aware, Jin. I’m also a trained and skilled detective, unlike the women working those spaces. I’ll be able to protect myself.”

Jin eyes you, scanning your face. “You’re serious.” he states. “I’ll never forgive myself if you were harmed, Y/N. You are only here because of me, after all.”

“We both have jobs to do, don’t we, Jin?” you tilt your head. “I’ll be safe and grab intel while I’m on the inside. I’ll be nothing but a whore to them.”

A loud knock sounds on the door and it startles both you and Jin. The door creaks open, waiting for no answer. It shuts abruptly behind the intruder.

“Y/N,” Jin stands to his feet. “This is my undercover detective. Daniel,” he nods his head to you. “This is the detective I was speaking with you about.”

“The one from out of town.” Daniel nods his head. He appears to be out-of-breath, dark hair sticking to his forehead. 

“Y/N is suggesting she infiltrate, as well. As a prostitute…”

Daniel’s eyes widen and he looks at you. “I…don’t think you’d want to do this.”

You raise an eyebrow. “For the sake of the case,” you begin.

“You’ll have to sleep with one of them in order to gain access. That’s how they determine if…” Daniel sighs, a pink tint to his cheeks. “...if you’re worthy or not to work for them.”

Your mouth goes dry for a moment. Slowly, you nod your head. What else would you expect - these women were working and selling sex. “Who would I have to sleep with?”

“You’re not truly considering this?” Jin scoffs in disbelief. “Y/N-”

“How else are we going to gain access to these parties? We’ll need someone else on the inside. Once there, I’ll excuse myself and find a way to contact you and that’s how you’ll be able to bust them, no?”

Jin shakes his head. This plan was already risky - but knowing now that you’d have to give up your body so soon is something he doesn’t want for you. 

“It sounds like a good idea…” Daniel murmurs. “Even I don't even know where these parties are held. Only certain members are allowed to go for security purposes.”

“You’re sure you want to do this?” Jin murmurs to you. “Sleep on it for now. Tomorrow we can speak further.”

“Jin-”

“It’s not up for debate.” Jin says. “Enough talk of this case. Are you hungry? We can grab something to eat. Daniel?”

“Right,” Daniel nods. “I was just reporting back. Tomorrow there’ll be a shipment coming in.”

Jin nods. “I’ll make sure to have officers on hand,” he says. “Thank you, Daniel.”

Daniel nods. “No problem.” he sighs. He offers you a short glance. “Detective,” he bows to you before turning on his heels and making his leave.

As the door clicks shut, Jin frowns at you. You furrow your brows. “Are you upset with me?”

“No. Just…” Jin swallows his words. “...I don’t want anyone else dying at the hands of the Ripper or his weak henchmen.”

You understood completely. What you were doing is insane - but for the sake of the case, you’d do it. You were a renowned detective that always put whatever case you had first, no matter the consequences.

“What do you prefer to eat?” Jin asks, closing a few file envelopes before rounding his desk to you. “There’s a diner not far from here we can go to?”

“Uh, yeah sure. That’ll be fine.” you nod your head, lifting yourself up from the chair. You make your way to your discarded cup of coffee and quickly down it. It’s lukewarm now and easier to drink than when it was white it was piping hot. “Let’s go. I’m sure you can fill me in on whatever details we left out.”

“I often enjoy breakfast for dinner.” Jin comments, digging into the smothered pancakes, syrup daring to drip down his lips. “I basically live in my office since the Ripper appeared.”

You take a sip of your juice and nod your head. “I can imagine. The phone was ringing nonstop.”

Jin snickers. “You’re not lying. I’ve unplugged the one in my office.” he says. “The calls were all useless. Some thought they caught the Ripper while others were just demanding that we hurry up and do our jobs.”

“Is it that ludicrous to believe that they did find the Ripper?” you ask.

Jin lifts his eyes to look at you, a look of disdain. He nods his head slowly. “Of course. You believe a regular person can find someone that doesn’t want to be found?”

You scoff. “Putting it that way…”

Dinner goes by smoothly. Jin has managed to give you as much information about the Ripper as possible and your mind processes it entirely. You didn’t have an easy stomach, so going through the crime scene photos didn’t bother your stomach, but your spirit. The way these people were harmed so cruelly - dismembered and body treated with such hatred. You want to ask if the Ripper has any tie to any of these people? Surely these could not be random murders committed - not when it appeared to be so personal.

“Enough about the case.” Jin nearly has to pry away the documents from you. He closes them and places it besides him. “What about you, Y/N?”

“What about me?” you plop a piece of toast into your mouth and begin to chew.

“What made you want to become a detective?” Jin questions. “I feel like we’ll be working together for a while. The Ripper isn’t an easy target.”

“I agree.” you chuckle. “Well…I…” you swallow, unsure of where to start. The beginning is always good and Jin didn’t appear to be in any rush. “...I always wanted to help. I actually…um…”

You bring your glass of juice up to your lips and begin to chug. Talking about your past was never easy for you. You don’t cry anymore - you’re an adult that doesn't need to seek out pity. In your line of work, you’ve experienced worse as do others. 

“I was given up for adoption by my biological parents and that led me with people that weren’t so kind. I wasn't with them for long until I eventually found myself with people I don’t belong with - even as a child.”

You’re being vague and you’re positive that Jin understands this. 

“I had to do some horrible things just to survive. Thing’s children shouldn’t have to do.”

Jin listens, no longer eating his food. His eyes are watching you, awaiting for you to respond. 

“I wasn’t alone. I was surrounded by more children…they were my,” you put your fingers up to do finger quotations. “‘siblings,’ they said. I’m too young to remember any of them but I do remember the day we were rescued.” Jin furrows his brows. “Rescued?”

You nod your head. “I remember the two of them. I remember being so scared of them. They were adults and all the adults in my life ever did hurt me and my siblings. But they didn’t. They promised to help us…and they did.”

Your mind processes your memories, the blurred faces of the children and the two saviors who freed you all from captivity. “It’s unfortunate that I’ve never seen those kids again. I’m not sure if they’re still alive to this day but,” you exhale. “I truly do hope their lives got better. I prayed that they found peace and happiness in wherever life took them.”

Jin is quiet for a moment, probably taking in everything you’ve told him. You said a lot without speaking too much of the truth, not fully ready to address the early years of your life. You contemplate if you ruined the mood as speaking of your past could do that to anyone - even you at times. But you understand that Jin didn’t mean any harm and probably wasn’t expecting your past to be that chaotic.

“I see.” Jin says. He takes hold of one of his drinks - he ordered three, a coffee, a water and fresh-squeezed orange juice - and takes a sip. “I suppose we both had different childhoods.”

You raise an eyebrow. “My mother,” Jin drops his drink and blinks at you. You notice just how intense his eyes are - dark and nearly unreadable. “was a prostitute.”

You sit straight on your side of the booth, shoulders straightening as you listen to his speak.

“I’ve seen a lot of men come and go in my life and the same men take her life. I suppose you and I are somewhat the same. I was trafficked, sold to work in factories and warehouses alongside other children and even adults paying off their debts.”

Your eyes widened slightly, your mind swirling with flashbacks of your own past life and how you and the other children you grew alongside. You swallow the lump in your throat. To think Seokjin has gone through something similar like you and also managed to not allow his past to define his future.

“My mother had a long debt and since she was gone, I had to be responsible for it. I recall only sleeping a max of two hours before we were instructed to go back to work. The amount of times we’ve almost died working in such heinous conditions.” 

Jin speaks without a stutter or as much as a short break. His face remains stoic and you just wonder how much he’s been through to be so numb to it all.

“I suppose maybe that’s why the Ripper is so personal to me. He once targeted prostitutes before his reign of terror around the town had widened. The same sun that would shine bright in the sky appears to always be hidden by dark clouds.”

You can hear your heart beating so rapidly and it pounds right outside your chest. You take a deep breath to process it all.

This wasn’t going to be easy, you note. The Ripper was a sensitive subject for everyone- especially Jin. By the few hours you’ve come to know him, you realized that he worked such long hours in catching the Ripper and now you understand why. His childhood followed him into his adulthood ; working on little to no sleep, nonstop. There’s slight bags underneath his eyes, and yet he still manages to look refreshed and young.

“Thank you for telling me.” you speak after a few moments of silence. 

“I should be thanking you, as well, then.” Jin smiles with a tilt of his head. It causes your body to heat up slightly - but you weren’t here to act as a giddy teenager with a growing crush. “I’m glad we’re both getting to know one another. You are going to be my partner until we catch the Ripper. I do want us to be close.”

Jin leans forward and you’re caught completely off guard. You stiffen, his eyes boring into yours only making you a bit more awkward. 

“I really do appreciate you for coming here, Y/N. It isn’t safe for someone like you here.” Jin speaks truthfully. He wasn’t going to sugar coat anything for you, and for that you were grateful. “You’re putting yourself into harm's way is truly admirable.”

“It’s nothing.” you murmur, body still warm at his words - and even the tone of which he says them. “I’m not doing anything differently than you.”

“True, but,” Jin shakes his head. “Oakville is my town. You came all the way here to help us, and for that you deserved to be acknowledged.”

After all these years, you weren’t used to being praised. It always caused you to just stand awkwardly as you received them, but you cannot say that his praises didn’t cause a warmth fill throughout you. 

Slightly, you nod your head. You take a gulp of your drink, needing something to cool yourself off.

“I’m surprised I haven’t scared you off yet. I was hoping I would be able to steer you away from becoming…”

“A prostitute.” you finish the word for him. Understanding Jin’s childhood with his mother, it made sense as to why he didn’t want you to go undercover as one. “I’ll do whatever it takes to help catch the Ripper, Jin. I can handle whatever is thrown towards me. I’m sure we went through the same basic training in bootcamp.”

Jin chuckles with a nod of his head. He finally leans back into the booth. “I’m positive we have.” he responds. “I don’t wish to offend you. I just want you to be careful. If you ever need a way out, please, don’t hesitate to use Daniel to your advantage.”

You nod your head. Your stomach was satiated and you were glad that you had a chance to sit and speak with Jin on a deeper level. It made working alongside him better - more trusting.

Jimin was an interesting character and he made you nervous - you’re positive that he’s aware. You were expecting someone grimey and old; maybe not ancient old, but old enough to be that creepy uncle.

Jimin wasn’t old and you truly wish to ask for his actual age as it appeared he and you were around the same age. His skin is fresh and wrinkle free, almost like a porcelain doll. His lips are hydrated and plush. His face is sculpted perfectly, oval face shaped with narrowed chin and jawline. His hair is styled neatly, the silver tresses on top swooped on the right side of his head, the sides cut shorter than the top. It seemingly reflects off of the dim lights of the room you’re in.

Jimin’s eyes are what makes you the most nervous. They’re dark and they appear to be watching you closely, trailing up and down your body entirely as if looking for any imperfections. It’s hard to be confident underneath his gaze, but you had to remain as such.

You’ve been in Oakville for a week and finally managed to make it inside Jimin’s large estate. It’s cleaner than you would have imagined a brothel to be and the women are all welcoming and inviting. There’s an aura around them that shines brightly even underneath the dim lights of his estate.

Only you and Jimin stood in this large room and it appeared to be like an office. There’s a desk directly in front of a large window - it displays a beautiful scenery of woods behind it, the tree’s moving silently in the wind from the outside. The floors are hardwood and a dark mahogany that doesn’t squeak or squeal when you walk on them. 

There’s several paintings on the walls, most of which are of women and some are nude, but they aren’t lewd paintings as you might expect in a brothel. They’re artistic in a way and you recall hearing many people speak highly of art such as this.

“You like them?”

Your eyes snap back to the man in front of you. He’s still seated at his desk, leaning back with his arms placed in his lap as he stares right at you. His voice is as young as he looks, soft and calm. It has a level of coolness and sensuality to it that has you realizing why someone like him could be in this line of work.

“The art,” Jimin continues, glancing at the array of artwork on his wall. “do you like them?”

Slowly, you nod your head.  “They’re amazing.” you admit.

Jimin’s lip stretches into a low grin at your response. “It was once said by Michelangelo that the skin is more beautiful than the garments in which it is clothed.”

Jimin begins to tap his fingers against his thigh, again watching you closely. 

Daniel had insisted - apologize profusely, as well - that you needed to dress the part if you were going to impress Jimin. This is how you found yourself, clothed completely in white. Your stockings stop at your upper thigh, held up by a garter of the same color. Your bralette is laced and similar to your panties, a floral pattern stitched onto the fabric and hides just enough for you not to be fully exposed.

You didn’t wear lingerie and your undergarments were as basic as they come. You had gone out your way to buy some new ones when Daniel had warned you - going with white as it was the safest color for a situation such as this. 

“What’s your name?” asked Jimin.

“Y/N.” you answered truthfully.

“You’re not from here.” Jimin states. It wasn’t a question. Jimin is certain that someone like you wasn’t from Oakville - he’s lived in this town for years. “Where are you from?” “Nowhere, really.” you respond. “I haven't settled anywhere for too long.”

Jimin blinks and hums, mind taking in your response. 

“Why have you chosen Oakville, Y/N?” Jimin leans forward, hands placing themselves onto his desk. “Surely you’ve heard of the Ripper.”

You swallow. You had to act the part and appear slightly afraid - even if the Ripper had not frightened you. 

“I have.” you nod your head. “I assume if I stay in my own lane, I wouldn’t be his next victim.”

Jimin chuckles to himself, a boyish laugh that causes his eyes to turn smaller. 

“You’re right about that.” Jimin nods. “Working for me means that you’ll also be working for the Ripper. Do you know what that entails?”

That you’ll be one step closer to defeating the Ripper and stopping his reign of terror in the town of Oakville. Instead of stating that, you shake your head.

“It means you do what you are told.” Jimin stands, his chair scrubbing against the hardwood floor as he pushes his chair back. 

Jimin’s taller than you expected and he rounds the corner of his desk and stalks towards you. “It means that while you work for me, Y/N…” Jimin is in front of you now, tilting his head to peer at you with dark eyes. “...you’ll do as I tell you to. Turn around.”

Your shoulders are tense but you have no choice but to turn around. If anything, you’re sure you would be able to fight off Jimin if needed be - but you couldn’t resort to that just yet. You were undercover; expected to be nothing but a prostitute in their eyes. 

Your eyes are then covered by a silk fabric. It’s tied behind your head tightly and you lick your lips in nervousness. 

You know what you are expected to do, you think. If Jimin was going to invest in you, he needed to test out whatever product you were selling - that only meant your body.

“Turn back around.” Jimin’s cool voice speaks to you, his hands on your shoulders to guide you around to face him. 

Your mind is making up images as your eyes cannot see. Jimin removes his hands from you and takes a few steps back - you can hear his footsteps creak away, as if watching to see your reaction.

“Get on your knees.”

Jimin’s voice is farther and you are given no choice but to do as you are told. Your knees hit the cold hardwood floor, hands in your lap.

You hear the footsteps come closer again and you inhale a shaky breath as you feel warm hands on your chin. It lifts your head up as if to look at him.

“Working for me means you’ll be more privileged than any other prostitute.” Jimin words hit your heads, a thumb swiping across your bottom lip. “I want to see how good you are.”

Your heart is pounding now and your body heats up at the obvious sign of sex. You were going to have to make the first move - after all, you came to him.

Your hands reach out to touch him, finding his wrist. Your mouth opens slightly, tongue poking out to poke at his thumb. Your tongue twirls around his thumb idly, your grip on his wrist tightening. 

You lightly nibble on his thumb, your thighs pushing themselves apart as you inch closer to the man. Your hand trails from his wrist to reach out until you are sure you find his thigh. It would be easier if you could see, but you would have to manage.

There’s a bulge that you finally manage to find and it causes you to gulp once more - you were actually doing this. But there was no going back now. You were one step closer to the Ripper.

Your hand caresses the bulge in his pants, squeezing it into your embrace teasingly. 

“It looks like you want to taste something else.” Jimin states. 

“If you’d let me.” you retort, head lifting as if looking at him in the face - you wish you could.

“If you truly wanted to, you would. I’m not stopping you.”

Your hands trail up until they feel a belt buckle. It’s leather and it takes you a few tries until you manage to unbuckle it. Your hands tremble as they go to pull down his pants, breathing increasing.

“You look so scared, Y/N. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” you respond. “It would be easier if I could see you.”

“You made the impression that you’ve done this before. Have you not?”

Jimin speaks as if he knows you’re lying and that’s not something you wanted. Your life was on the line for this and you truly didn’t want to die this soon.

You don’t respond, and instead your hands proceed to tug at the briefs he wore until they are down. Your mind has to connect the dots that you cannot see.

Your hand finds his cock, the naked flesh already hard and warm. It pulses in your grasp and your thumb circles the tip of his cock to assure you had it in your possession. Without warning, your tongue licks up the slit as if licking a lollipop. It swirls around the tip, the salty taste of precum meeting your taste buds immediately. 

You wished that you would have taken something upon coming here - you knew what you would be getting into. A type of aphrodisiac of the sort so that you could enjoy yourself without the thoughts in the back of your mind.

You didn’t have time to think about your actions now, and instead wrap a hand around the base of his cock to continue sucking, your cheeks suctioning inward with each slurp. His cock is coated with saliva. You can hear him - short moans that have your ears perking at just the sound of them. You suppose it’s nice, as the sounds of his boyish moans shoot straight to your core - an act of service you indeed needed if you were going to go through this case.

Your palm begins to pump his cock, focusing more on the tip than anything. You’re sure you looked exactly like you were supposed to - exactly what they were looking for in a woman in this business. 

Your slurping increases, bouncing off of the walls of the quiet room. As your slurping increases, so do the moans he releases. It comes out in short breaths, dancing through your ears as a compliment that what you were doing was indeed working.

Your hand falls onto your lap and you widen your mouth to take more of him. You pop his cock from your mouth and lick your lips - you could taste pre-cum, the salty taste bitter in your mouth. “You’re such a tease.” your ears perk when Jimin finally speaks and you cannot help but believe that you had no effect on him. 

You gulp, breathing through your nose a bit. “I can’t help but believe I’m doing all the work.”

Your hair is gripped suddenly and without warning, he slides into your mouth. Your eyes widen behind the silk ribbon and you’re unable to react fully as he’s already sliding in and out of your mouth.

It’s rough, you note, and maybe your words set him off. With each thrust, it hits the back of your throat and you feel the need to gag, but you manage. Your fists clench in your lap, legs clenching together tightly for whatever friction you could get.

His moans increase, grunting and groaning with each thrust into your mouth. There’s drool dripping down your chin sloppily to match the forming tears in your eyes. The sounds that now echo across the room are filthy, suckling and gagging from you and his increased breathing.

“Ah, maybe you are a good whore, after all.” Jimin sing-songs, amused. “You’re excited, aren’t you?”

Your head is yanked back. If you could see, you would be looking up at the man now. His thrusts slow down and your mind has to connect the dots once more. You’re positive that he’s watching you, possibly admiring the way you look now; vulnerable and slutty - something a man like him would enjoy.

“I can see the way your legs clench together…” his words hit your ears once more, this time his tone is low and deeper. “...you like this, don’t you? A woman like you enjoys being treated like this…”

You cough when his cock is released from your mouth. Air finally hits your lungs and you take it all in as you’re unaware when you’d be able to process what’s coming next.

Again, you’re pushed. This time, you’re on your back and your legs and forced open. Your head crashed against the hardwood floor as hands touch and grip your skin with such greed. You’re unsure what to do and all you could do was whimper to yourself silently.

“You’re a whore, right, Y/N?” Jimin asks you. “Has anyone ever pleasured you?”

You feel pressure on your clothed clit - he was cupping it. Your stomach churns at the feeling; forbidden and dirty. You weren’t supposed to want this; you weren’t a whore. You were a detective, and for a moment you forget about the case entirely. 

“No…” you respond.

“Tsk,” Jimin murmurs. 

You whimper once more when you feel circular motions being rubbed onto your clit. The lacy fabric of your panties were beginning to stick to you and you feel utterly exposed to the man, now more than before. 

“Take them off.” Jimin suddenly commands. There’s a slight tug at your bralette. “I want you to strip for me, Y/N. After all, I’m paying you to be here, aren’t I?” You inhale, lifting yourself up from the cold hardwood floor to do as the man asks. Your bra falls off of you and without warning, your panties are tugged off, as well, a ripping sound sounding through your ears. 

“You look so scared.”

Jimin’s voice doesn’t have any concern in them. If anything, you could hear a tint of amusement. He got off by embarrassing you and other woman. To him, you were indeed a whore that needed him to succeed in life. You’ll make it your mission that he would be brought down alongside the Ripper.

“Whore’s usually…” you are pushed down against the floor once more. “...pretend they're with another man while doing this. Who are you pretending you’re with?”

Your mind flashes for a moment, seeing Seokjin. His dark eyes shining with concern at not wanting you to be here. He was kind, truly, and it hurts to think that he showed more concern for your safety than you had from your own.

“Tell me.” Jimin speaks again. “What’s his name? Is he a childhood friend? A former lover?”

“Jin.” you murmur, defeated. 

Jin was the first man that came to mind - if you were going to pretend you were with anyone, it could possibly be him. Back home, you devoted yourself to your cases. You worked alongside mostly women. There wasn’t any man in your life that you could think of in a moment such as this - besides Seokjin.

You haven’t known Jin long, but seeing as your relationship with most men were close to nothing, he was the top candidate. While you’ve been in Oakville for such a small amount of time, he was determined to keep you out of harm's way. He had given you a room in his home that also had its own bathroom for privacy purposes. He had allowed you to take over smaller cases that involved the Ripper’s henchmen and had treated you with respect - like an actual equal. He hadn’t been a typical man who would use their authority over you and for that, you were grateful of him.

Your skin prickles with goosebumps as a shiver runs down your spine.

“Jin…” Jimin says, the name trailing off his tongue. “Jin…who is Jin?”

You don’t give a response and after a few moments, he doesn’t care to hear one. His hands are upon your body once more and it causes you to flinch. His hands are softer than what you expected and they grip and tug on your naked flesh. 

Your breath hitches when those soft hands grip at your breast, pads of his thumbs pressing against your erect nipples.

Your thighs are forced apart and you can feel him between you - you assume his own thigh right where your heat is at. He presses it ever so gently against your clit, his palms squeezing your breast.

Maybe if you imagined it was Jin then things would be a bit better - you wouldn’t get too far into your head about what you were doing. You didn’t technically see Jin in a sexual light before; of course you’d admit that he was attractive. But whatever attraction your eyes enjoyed would not allow you to ruin what you were here for - not until now.

You gasp when a warm sensation runs through the skin of your neck - slimy and wet. You notice it immediately being his tongue. It swirls at the nape of your neck before trailing down towards your collarbone. He presses his clothed thigh harder against your clit, his left hand removing itself from your breast to place it onto your hip. He doesn’t speak and instead attempts to guide you.

He wanted you to rub yourself against him as if the moment wasn’t embarrassing enough. You do without a fuss, your eyes closed (even if they were bound by the ribbon) and imagining a kinder man that wasn’t Jimin.

Your hips buckle, rubbing yourself against his thigh. His tongue runs lower and lower. It’s right between your breasts now. The coolness of the large office causes your skin to shiver once more, body heating up.

There’s a groan from him. His left hand leaves your hip to then grasp your breast once more. This time, his tongue is connected to your hardened nipple and hungrily he suckles onto it. His right hand begins to pinch your other nipple with his index and thumb, tugging and pulling onto it.

You swallow back a moan, unable to control the way your body feels about receiving pleasure. You clench around nothing as you glide your clit against his thigh, all the way he continues to suckle slopping onto your breast.

He seems to be insatiable, moving onto your next breast to suck just as needily onto it as he did the first one. He now forces his thigh hard against you, right hand slapping your hips to grind even more.

You sigh, a shaky moan coming from your throat that has you embarrassed by how much you liked this. You know when it was all over that you would have a hard time looking at yourself in the mirror, but you were also aware of what you were getting yourself into.

Don’t think of Jimin, think of Jin, you tell yourself.

And as your mind thinks of the tall man with broad shoulders with such kind eyes, it makes it easier for you to touch him. Your hand places itself onto the back of his head, soft tresses greeting you. Your back arches slightly towards him and with that, you feel both of his arms engulf you entirely. His lips release your swollen nipple with a low pop and you can now feel his lips, so plump, press against your neck once more.

His teeth sink into your neck, biting down harshly - possessively. In reaction, you yelp, holding onto the back of his head for support. You can hear him breathing so intensely, getting into the moment just as you were.

“Ah-”

His hands are large, you note, ranking down your naked back as he pushed himself against you. Your thighs now cage his waist between your legs and you can feel how excited he is, a hardened bulge pressing right against your clit.

His tongue reappears, swiping over the spot he bit at, determined to leave a mark upon you no doubt. Just like before, his tongue makes its way down your collarbone, his head lowering. He goes past your breast before it stops at your stomach. This time, his lips press a kiss by your belly button.

This felt far too intimate and the part of you that knew that this wasn’t Jin was left confused - did Jimin do this with all the women he slept with? Was he always so intimate and sensual?

But in order to not be grossed out by the scenario, you pretend it’s Jin, and the thought causes you to relax. You give into the kisses, mouth opening slightly to allow a low moan to be heard. 

His kisses trail further, kissing your abdomen and it’s then you realize that he was going to be right between your legs. Your body is already hot while in the moment, heat radiating off of your skin like a furnace in the cool room. A part of you wanted to see him, but the other part didn’t want to ruin the fantasy.

He presses a kiss directly onto your clit. Your thighs quiver at the sudden action, inhaling a breath. He presses a few more kisses before his tongue licks a stripe up your slit. Your back arches once more at the foreign feeling. His tongue is so warm - warmer than it felt against your skin. 

He continues to lick between your folds, both hands forcing your thighs apart so that you’re unmoving. You don’t hide how good it feels - especially since your mind is connecting pieces that aren’t there. Your mind displayed images of Jin between your legs, ravishing you so hungrily; similar to the way he appeared at the dinner. His dark eyes would look up at you, watching the way you came undone on his tongue for him.

Your hand tangles into his soft hair, hips buckling to feel more of his tongue - and it’s as if he gives you exactly what you want from him. His tongue lays flat against your clit, allowing you to take a bit of control of your own pleasure.

With your free hand, you grasp your breast in a semi-tight hold. Your lips get caught into your teeth in an attempt to not be too loud.

There’s a slap onto your thigh and without much warning, your legs are pushed farther apart. They are brough upwards to your shoulders - a position you weren’t aware you could be put in - and he takes back his control. His tongue suckles onto your clit sloppily, his head weaving back and forth with such speed. 

Your groans increase higher and maybe that was his plan all along, to hear how good he’s making you. His wet suckling along with your cries soon echoes off of the walls, a filthy sound entirely.

Your mind flashes again, with Jin’s tongue buried so deep onto your pussy that it causes your skin to litter with goosebumps again, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Ah…!” you shriek, genuinely surprised with the sudden pressure inside of you. 

He never gives any warnings. His fingers enter you whole, pumping greedily inside of you - he wants more. More moaning and groaning, more arousal to pool onto his tongue. 

More.

Your pussy is tight as it clenches around him and your thighs are quivering once more with pleasure, but he doesn’t allow you scurry away from him. His fingers are so long and they fuck into you with such experience, hitting spots you never knew existed.

You're humiliated with the squelching sounds your pussy makes, an obvious sign of how much you enjoyed it all - his tongue lapping between your folds causes severe overstimulation.

Your eyes squeeze shut harder, hips jerking. You’re breathing intensifies, your body appearing so much lighter than before. You can feel the slick pooling out of you.

“I-I can’t…” you try to speak, but it doesn’t go anywhere. You’re trembling with pleasure right now, and your mind can only display images of Seokjin fingers curling inside of you. He stares at you with those dark eyes that tell you to cum all over him without having to utter a single word.

“...gonna…cum…” your hand reaches out to push the man away when the feeling comes - a sudden urge to let loose. It’s not something you’ve ever truly felt before and you were frightened by what it  was.

The man doesn’t move as you expected. He removes his tongue from you and replaces it with his tongue instead, fingers drilling inside of you while his thumb rubs harshly against your clit. 

Your toes curl, your hand holding onto his soft locs in need as the feeling grows closer and closer. You don’t realize that there’s tears forming until they slide past the silk ribbon and onto your cheeks.

“P-Please…” you plead, sounding utterly pathetic. Your head dips back and you let the pleasure consume you entirely, pooling out all at once with a humiliating splash that hits against the floor. It sounds like water spilling, a disgusting sound as this was your first time experiencing anything like this.

You fall back against the floor, chest rising and falling. Slowly, you feel his fingers leave you and you feel so empty with them. Your legs shake, pussy clenching and unclenching. You've never experienced such a thing, your body enduring the aftermath of such an orgasm that has you feeling dirty.

Your body is being pulled once more, a sign that the man wasn’t done with you just yet. You are handled like a doll, legs forced apart once more. 

There’s another sensation against your clit - it’s already so wet that when it rubs against you, it squelches.

You knew it was time for him to fuck you - the tip of his cock inching closer and closer to your entrance. 

You’re more willing now, widening your legs. You are still seeing Jin in your mind and imagine that it is him. When he enters his cock inside of you, you gasp, back arching from the ground once more.

He enters you deep, allowing you to adjust to his size. You cannot help but groan, your hands reaching out to touch his wrists. His own hands dig into the naked flesh of your hips and for the first time in a while you hear his own groan.

Your breast bounces as he begins to thrust inside of you. He lifts your lower body up from the floor a bit to get a deeper entrance. He isn’t quiet in the slightest. With each deep thrust, there’s a groan after it.

You are positive that you aren’t meant to last long - not with the amount of pleasure you experienced in such a short amount of time. You’re so full of him, his cock ramming into you so fast and deep that you don’t have a time to react to it.

Your hands trail from his wrist to his arms, holding on for support. Your moans dance along with his and you cannot help but want to be closer to the man. You initiate the embrace first, lifting yourself up from the ground to wrap your arms around his neck.

The act causes the man to fuck you ever harder, hands gliding from your hips to wrap you in his own embrace. 

His shoulders are so broad, you note, and you rub onto them needily. Maybe it was the sex blinding you from the fact that this wasn’t Jin as Jimin didn’t have the same body - but the ribbon causes you to imagine that it was. It’s what has you moaning and begging him for more.

The ribbon blocking your sight is what has you licking onto his own skin hungrily as he fucks into you so good. It’s what has you buckling your own hips to meet his thrusts.

Your lack of sight of Jimin has you seeing Jin in your mind, and it causes your lips to meet his plump ones that are coated in your arousal. Your hands grip onto his hair as your tongue dances with his, your pussy clenching so tight around him that neither of you want to stop now.

You wonder what he sees. Maybe a girl once shy, turned so aroused that she’s pleading for more. She’s leaking all over the place, soft moans growing higher and higher until she’s nearly screaming.

He gives you exactly what you want him to, fucking into you with a stamina so great that it has you cumming all over him again, more hot tears streaming down your face pathetically.

He doesn’t last too long, either. His thrust becomes sloppy and he’s grunting into your ear so melodically. He manages to pull out of you, cumming right onto your stomach - it’s hot and the amount is alarming, but you allow it, your mind seeing Seokjin, so fucked out and full of lust that you are completely content with being used by someone that wasn’t him.

“Y/N…I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”

It’s been another week since you’ve last seen Jin.

Daniel nods his head before closing the door to his office.

Jin places whatever documents he’s going through down onto his desk and rounds it to come closer to you.

“Jin. Hello.” you greet him, nodding your head. “Mind if I have some coffee?”

“You don’t have to ask.” Jin snorts and nods his head yes. “How are you?”

You’ve adapted in Jimin’s mansion and had gotten your own room. It was luxurious and completely your own. 

After the day with Jimin, you were told to keep the ribbon on until he specifically told you to take it off. 

Looking Jimin in the eye was easier than you expected. He didn’t appear different or smug after having just fucked you. You assumed it was because he was accustomed to it already.

Looking Jin in the eye a week later is what frightens you. 

“Y/N.”

“S-Sorry.” you had poured coffee onto the counters. You grab several napkins to clean it up, blinking away the thoughts. 

“You seem so shaken up.” Jin places a hand onto your shoulder to grasp your attention. “Do you need me to find you a way out-”

“No.” you shake your head, turning to look at him. You swallow when you look into his eyes - the same dark eyes you’ve seen in your mind constantly.

“You don’t look good, Y/N. Is everything…alright?” Jin doesn’t want to dig deeper into what you’ve gone through the past week, unsure of where he should inject himself. “I don’t want you to get too deep into something that isn’t for you.”

You offer Jin a short smile.

“I’m…not a prostitute.” you murmur to Jin who nods - he knows that. Whatever you had to do while undercover was just that. He would never label you as such.

“Jimin…he keeps me around as his maid. So he says.” you admit. “Said I was…too good…to be a prostitute.”

Your body burns now with even more embarrassment. Jin’s ears are red and he nods his head. “I’m glad.” Jin admits, a part of him content that you wouldn’t have to be selling yourself for the sake of the case. He isn’t sure how to put what he feels into words at times, you note. “I just want you to be safe, Y/N.”

You continue to clean up your mess, your mind racing. 

You were a detective - you’ve managed and solved several cases. You’ve gone undercover countless times.

And yet…

This was the straw that broke the camel's back?

You didn’t want things to be awkward between you and Jin as you still had a job to do at the end of the day. Yet, it was difficult being around him when you had to have him on your mind in order to sleep a little better at night; in order to not feel so shitty about yourself.

“I’m able to handle myself, Jin.” you murmur, pouring a few sugar packets into your coffee and grabbing a little straw to stir it. “Jimin doesn’t suspect that I’m nothing but a whore.”

“A maid.” Jin corrects, knitting his brows.

“Right.” you scoff. “A maid. There’s going to be a gathering this weekend at the mansion. I was told that several high-ranking individuals would be attending.”

Jin nods his head slowly as he processes the information.

“I don’t think the Ripper would be there, however.” you admit, taking a sip of your coffee and humming when it hits your throat. “He appears to be…an entity. People speak of him but no one’s ever seen him. I’ve asked a few women who work for Jimin-”

“Y/N, you have to be careful!” Jin interjects. “You’re the new girl there who managed to be a maid instead of a prostitute. You don’t think women are pining for your position?”

Your eyes connect with his and instantly, your mind replays you the events of the week prior - how content you felt being with him even if it wasn’t with him.

You take a deep breath before nodding your head. “You’re right.” you murmur. “I’ll be more careful.

Jin stands straighter. “Thank you.” he responds. “I do appreciate your dedication, Y/N. I don’t want to be so hard on you.”

You take another sip of your coffee after blowing on it a few times. “I can handle whatever you throw at me, Jin. I’ve worked alongside harsher men.” you place your cup back onto the counter and lean against it with crossed arms. “Back to the gathering. It’s being held in a neighboring town instead of Oakville.”

Jin furrows his brows. “Oh?”

“Yes.” you nod. “They never have any form of gatherings in Oakville incase of…you know, you.” you slowly grin his way. “Having so many people come to a small town suddenly raises questions that they don’t want to answer.”

Jin returns your grin - an act that causes the hairs on your arm to raise.

“Uh...I’ll give Daniel the details when I get them.” you avert your eyes to the ground. “I’m sure we can get the neighboring town police force in on what is happening and go forward with the raid that way?”

Jin nods his head. Without warning, he places a hand on your head. He pats it, almost as if he was patting a small child's head. Your head slowly turns toward him for answers. “Good job.” he chuckles, a twinkle in his eye. “I have to admit having you on the team has made my life a lot easier. No one has such great ideas as you do.”

Your heart begins to pump faster and mentally, you’re screaming at yourself to stop acting like such a pathetic little girl with a growing crush. This was nothing but an attraction for your lack of love and (former) sexual life. Maybe you craved attention you never got - not even as a child - so any form of it was making you weak.

Jin’s hand slowly slides from the top of your head down to your cheek. Your skin is even hotter, unaware of what to do in this situation.

“I’m always here, Y/N. If you ever need anything.” Jin assures, years ears perking at the sound of his voice that any background noise seemingly dies down. “Just ask and I’ll do my best to deliver.”

Your lips part and a shaky breath releases. You begin to nod your head at his words, swallowing down a gulp. His eyes are so intense and you couldn’t truly read them. They scan your face for any form of reaction, possibly reading right through the facade you’re attempting to put up.

“I want you to be safe, as well.” you testified, your hand placing over his - still resting on your cheek lazily. “You can call upon me, as well. If you need me to do anything while on the inside.

“Let’s catch the Ripper.” Jin hums, that familiar twinkle in his eye returning once hearing your words.

“Is this a gathering for important people?” you ask as you fix Jimin’s tie, your eyes fixed on the piece of fabric. “Or do you usually dress this way for them?”

Jimin’s attire has always been up to par, you’d admit. The suits he adorned were always tailored to fit him perfectly. You were advised to hand-wash his clothing and let them air dry before ironing them just the way he showed you how as he was specific about how he wanted his clothing to present him.

Jimin tilts his head just as you were done with his tie. “Is this your way of flirting with me?” he teases, a smirk forming onto his lips.

You take a deep breath and put on a smile that wouldn’t reach your eyes. You’d play nice for now for the case. You lightly tap his chest as that was the only response you were willing to give. 

“It’s a gathering, yes. But also a meeting.” Jimin speaks, strolling towards a small, rectangular box in his bedroom and opening it. It’s where he kept most of his expensive watches. “We have a lot to discuss, Y/N.”

A meeting? Your mind racks through different ideas and possibilities - would the RIpper be at this meeting? Of course not, you think, most of his henchmen never even saw him in person and surely would not start now. 

“You’ve been with me long enough to know the struggles we are facing, I assume.” Jimin places his watch onto his wrist as he speaks. “Our men are being arrested. Prostitutes not doing what I am paying them to.” he shakes his head. “It’s so hard to find decent help.”

You want to boast that you were the reason that the men in their “gang” were being arrested - thanks to you and Daniel. You had given information to Jin about whereabouts; when shipments would be coming and days where they would be causing havoc before it happened.

Prostitutes were escaping - also thanks to you - this lifestyle. Majority of them were young and had never spoken to anyone with positivity who encouraged them to be better. It wasn’t an easy task to do and you still had hundreds of women to speak with, but you were determined to do just that.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” you tell Jimin, lying through your teeth. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”

Jimin’s eyes flicker to you when you respond. He hums. “There is.” he says. “Just do as you’re told.”

You nod your head slowly, licking your lips.

The journey to your destination wasn’t a long one, only about an hour. You arrived alongside Jimin and a few men while the other remaining prostitutes arrived separately. You were surprised to find that the gathering would be held in what appears to be a theater. The inside is clean and pristine with high ceilings with such amazing white lighting that shines down on the bodies surrounding you. There’s rows upon rows of seating available, even ones upstairs in booths. The stage is right at the center, tall and grand and you ponder just how many theater performances have been right here.

“You,” Jimin catches your attention, placing a hand at the low of your back. “represent me, Y/N.”

You understood as such when Jimin had chosen your clothing - a dress that is entirely too long that you often find yourself nearly tripping if you weren’t so quick on your feet. It’s a dark maroon color to match that of his suit and for some odd reason, you adorn a corset that was tied by Jimin himself to shape your figure, it’s laced and tied behind your back. 

“You’ll be serving us tonight.” Jimin begins to steer you away and into a room to the right. It’s a bar area where rows of drinks are set up ready to be served. “Just make sure people’s cups are full. Easy enough for you?”

You nod once more, eyeing the cups. You assume they’re wine mixed with more - something to have the girls and whatever attending this gathering be more loose. You cringe at the thought.

The night drags on and you do as you’re told, serving people as they mingle. You shouldn’t be surprised to see familiar faces - officers from other neighboring towns, high police officials and politicians alongside mayors. They all funded the Ripper - you’re unsure as to why but that didn’t stop you from collecting the desired intel needed. You had their faces and names locked deep in your mind, the case only growing larger. 

Your eyes catch Daneil from across the theater. He’s sipping his own drink, looking around the same as you are. You ponder if he notices anyone familiar or something off about those who are attending.

The theater is loud with chatter and laughter, prostitutes being seated in the laps of powerful men. You take another deep breath.

“Excuse me,”

There’s a loud voice - Jimin’s - followed by clapping. He strolls onto the stage and makes a grand entrance that has you rolling your eyes. 

“Y/N, please serve our guest the specialty wine of the night.”

You stand a little straighter as Jimin calls for you. You go into the backroom to find the wine he was speaking of. It’s a dark color of crimson on a medium sized silver platter. It took you longer than you desired, especially with the waiting eyes of the attendee’s around you, but once the last glass was full, you scurried off to the side.

“Thank you all for coming.” Jimin begins, his clapping together. “It’s been too long since we have been together. Just like old times.”

There’s a few murmurings of agreement.

“As you know, however, there's been a slight…inconvenience to our operation.” Jimin’s tone lowers and you assume he’s speaking of several of his men being arrested and the police force - that’s not involved with the Ripper - was zoning in on them.

“It’s nothing we cannot handle, surely.”

You turn to the sound of the voice - an officer. Maybe this is why they’ve never been caught before. Having officers on the inside was a smart move from such a sick man like the Ripper.

“As I thought.” Jimin nods. “However, we’re also losing our girls. With these men being arrested and charged every other day and whore’s leaving…”

You lick your lips, scoffing to yourself. This is what the gathering was about - trying to find ways to stop the decline of their operation? 

“I have a shipment coming from out of the country.”

A shipment from out of the country…?

You gasp to yourself at the statement. The man was a mayor not from Oakville, but elsewhere. They were trafficking girls from outside the country - how they managed to do a thing, you’re unsure. The thought makes your skin crawl, your mind flashing of your past and what you had to endure alongside your “siblings”. 

“That’ll help.” another member of this cult - because this couldn’t be anything but - has said. He has a girl seated in his lap as he speaks, his hand rubbing onto her thigh.

“It’ll help. But,” Jimin appears stoic. His eyes glance around the room as if in search of someone. “Let’s raise our glass and drink to the Brotherhood.”

As you expected. This was some sort of sick cult of elitists. The Ripper wasn’t the only sick individual as he was surrounded by much more. 

“To the Brotherhood.” the surrounded men all state in unison. Your eyes meet Daniel’s once more and not that he had not lifted his cup to drink anything.

What comes next is what shocks you. As the men all take their drinks, it’s followed by sudden screeching. Chao’s ensues and you could only watch in horror as things began to go haywire.

Coughing and gagging are heard, followed by the screams of the prostitutes who all scurry away and surrounding one another. Several men fell to their knees and began to vomit their guts out, blood pooling from their noses.

“W-What-”

“There has been a traitor among us…”

That voice is different. It’s not Jimin’s, you note. It comes directly behind you all and it takes everything in you to not freeze in your stature. 

A man, tall and covered from head to toe in dark clothing. His trenchcoat is black and leather and sways behind him as he trails down the carpeted stairs to reach the stage. He’s sporting a mask that covers his face entirely. It’s ghostly and adorns an expressionless expression.

“One of you,” the man says, coming even closer. “has betrayed me.”

It happens entirely too fast. He lunges at the prostitutes, a large dagger in his hand and manages to stab one directly in the heart. The other’s scream, crying to get away from his attack - but none of them manage.

It’s a shocking sight to behold - the men are slowly dying, obviously poisoned…by you.

You feel sick to your stomach having been a part of such a sick set up.

The Ripper is here.

The Ripper is here.

Your eyes blink several times, as if trying to comprehend what you’re witnessing is true. He is so brutal in the way he murders the prostitutes without a care. They’re thrown around like ragdolls, being, blood seeping from such quick attacks upon their skin.

Your mind is racing, eyes darting all around the room. It was pure chaos - utter havoc. The screams only grow louder and louder.

“S-Stop!”

You found your voice, going to screech as loud as you can to grab the attention of the man. Your heart nearly stops when, ever so slowly, he turns towards you, knife raised. Crimson blood seeps off of it and drops onto the carpet. 

You swallow, taking a step back when the man stalks towards you. 

You’re unsure what you imagined yourself doing in a situation such as this, never truly expecting to be in it. You thought of ways of figuring out who the Ripper was and what you’d do if you ever came face to face with him - but now you appeared to cower.

You had witnessed a massacre right before your eyes. You were a part of it, having served these same people with poison.

“Y/N, what did I say earlier?” Jimin’s voice rings through your ears and before you could process anything, you’re being pushed harshly onto the ground. Your head nearly crashes against it but you catch yourself. “Just do as you’re told.”

You exhale a frightening breath, eyes slowly looking upwards at the man, knife clenches in his gloved hand. He’s looking down at you, almost as if waiting for you to react.

You weren’t a prostitute or a maid.

You were a detective. 

You have trained for years to be where you were at. 

You had come to Oakville to bring down such a horrid person - you couldn’t just lay here and cower.

It takes far more strength than expected, but neither of the two men - the Ripper and Jimin - were expecting you to react so quickly, or at all. You attack the man's legs, bringing him to the ground with you in an attempt to get the knife out of his hand.

Your hair is being pulled, yanked harshly. Your eyes clenched shut and your hands immediately clasp onto your hair. You can feel your body being dragged against the carpeted floor.

Your heart thumps, pounding into your ears. You couldn’t contain the low grunts coming from your lips, pain shooting throughout your body as you continue to be dragged so violently by the Ripper.

“Now why shouldn’t you be killed for your actions, Y/N?”

Jimin’s voice oozes with disappointment, like a superior upset with their students' actions as he steps off of the stage. 

You were finally released and pushed aside roughly. Your head throbs but you whip it around to look at the tall man. You cannot see his eyes and they appear to be pitch black holes of nothingness staring right back at you.

Daniel is looking between Jimin and the Ripper, his own heart thumping in his chest and he’s visibly trembling. This is his first time meeting the man in person. He was stunned at the sudden appearance of the murderer slaining people in plain sight - only when you were in trouble did he snap back to reality. “S-Sir!” he speaks forward, stepping closer to where you three stood. “I-I can take her back to the-”

“Get the fuck out.”

You don’t blame Daniel for being terrified and you could only be upset with yourself if this is how you did die. You could only hope that Daniel wouldn’t meet the same fate. 

Your chest heaves, your eyes fixed on the Ripper who seemingly is staring right back at you. 

Daniel’s mouth shut once he heard Jimin’s stern tone. His eyes flicker to you onto the ground, trying your best not to cower away, but even he was frightened of what would happen to you if he left.

“Are you deaf or stupid?” Jimin snorts, shaking his head a bit. “Get the fuck out! Wait for us outside.”

You can hear footsteps scurrying away, going farther and farther, and yet your eyes never leave the ghoulish mask of the Ripper.

Jin, if you managed to make it out alive, was surely going to be upset with you. You had managed to come face to face with someone so heinous - and piss them off to the point that it might just lead you to your death.

“She’s a feisty one. I like her.” Jimin is leaning against the stage with his arms crossed. “She’s different….not a whore in the slightest.”

You swallow, your eyes remaining on the dark sockets of his mask. You didn’t want to give yourself away or appear suspicious.

What did Jimin mean that you weren’t a whore in the slightest? Did he know who you were - no. He couldn’t have. He would have gotten rid of you if he did.

Still, why keep you around if he knows you weren’t a part of this world? Just what was he planning on doing?

“What say you, Y/N?”

“Are you going to kill me?”

You didn’t waste any time. If you were going to die here, you’d make sure you had the chance to fight back.

“If he wanted you dead, you’d be dead already.” Jimin looks bored as this was not entertaining in the slightest. You and he stared at one another, as if daring the other to strike first - no one had. “You look determined to survive. How about this…we all love a little game.”

Your first clench at your sides. You weren’t in the mood to be toyed with - especially not when you’re at such a disadvantage.

“You make it out of here alive, Y/N…we pretend none of this ever happened, yeah?”

For the first time in who knows how long, you glanced at Jimin, the Ripper in the corner of your eye becoming a blurred figure. 

“I’ll be making my leave…”

Jimin begins to stroll away, a strut in his walk. 

“W-Wait!” you call, looking back at the Ripper. “Where are you-”

“I’m not going to be here. If you want to live, you’ll escape yourself. You know where to find me if you survive.”

You let out a low gasp as his footsteps clogged your mind, his words replaying over and over  - and over again. Your eyes slowly turn back to the tall man a few feet away from you. It’s eerily silent, only the theater door opening and closing behind Jimin.

You were powerless and had not a weapon on you. Your mind races of ways to survive this. You were positive that if he didn’t want you dead then, by now he surely did.

You barely have a second to process when he suddenly lunges at you. You throw yourself to the side and manage to get onto your feet.

Your dress is entirely too long to function properly and you ponder if this was Jimin’s initial intention. 

Your hands scrunch up the dress so you could run freely.

He’s swinging the knife as it slices the air close to you. You continue to dodge, finding that this would be the easiest option instead of trying to attack the man head on. 

“You’re a coward!”

You hiss at the man after managing to dodge another attack, this time it slices at your side and fortunately slices the dress and not your skin.

“Attacking women because you cannot take on a man!”

Maybe it wasn’t smart to taunt someone hellbent on killing you - and if not killing you, at least hurting you. However, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction that you were frightened to your core at the disadvantage.

“I know men like you.  I’ve dealt with men like you.”

You round a corner, a beam separating you and him. His attack stops and you’re met with his eyeless stare.

“Weak.” you spit, your hands clutching onto your dress for support. “You take your pathetic anger out on innocent women simply because your life is miserable. Were you rejected…maybe…”

Your breathing increases, determined to stay alive.

“...Mommy issues?”

The man attacks again, this time dropping his knife to come at you full force. You should have expected it and could only blame yourself when both of his gloved hands crashed onto your face. You’re forced backwards until your back hits against a wall.

Your hands punch along his chest - it’s broad, you note, a thought that he was a man of either great strength or smart enough to wear protection beneath his clothing. 

You weren’t doing any damage to him and he gave you little room to do so. His body pressed against yours. Your face throbs beneath his clenching hands.

You wheeze when you’re pushed away, back slamming against the wall once more. Without warning, you’re turned around, your cheek now pressed to the cold, theater wall and his right hand clasp around your neck. 

Your hand reaches back to attack him once more, an attempt to claw at him to release you.

No man should have strength like this - this was inhumane. 

“Let…me…go…”

It was getting hard to breathe.

Your body tenses up when you feel him press up against you sickly, your mind going to the darkest possibilities of what he was going to do to you if you didn’t escape him.

“...fight me like a-”

His gloved hand reaches upward to clasp against your mouth while his free one grasps your waist harshly. You’re pulled from the wall and suddenly, slammed onto the ground. Your head crashes against the carpeted floor and before you could react, you feel pressure on top of you.

There’s a knife pointed to your throat, dangerously close. You can feel the cool tip prepared to slice against your skin.

“Hurry up and kill me.”

You weren’t going to give him what he wanted. It’s obvious that he wanted you to cower before him and beg for your life - but you weren’t.

If you were going to die, then so be it. But you would not feed into his ego. 

The man tilts his head, eyeless sockets staring right at you. 

The man comes closer to you, his masked face inches from yours.

You swallow, remaining whatever eye contact you could.

The knife pinches your skin a bit, trailing from your neck to your collarbone. It stings -  but not the way you thought it would have. It feels more like a papercut slicing through delicate skin.

It pierces through the fabric of your dress, slicing ever so slowly - as if  to taunt you. Your lower half is constricted, but your arms are free.

“Get off-” you hiss, your hands balling into fists and you throw a harsh jab at the masked cheek. It was just the amount of reaction you needed to kick him away from you, freeing yourself from beneath you.

You begin to crawl backwards, your eyes not leaving his figure as you struggle to get to your feet. Your breathing has increased tremendously. “Fuck you!” you spit, stumbling further away from him. You needed to grab a weapon - any weapon.

As you were rushing away to find said weapon, the masked man lifts himself up, knife gleaming in the lowlights of the theater. 

You’re behind the bar now, grasping the largest bottle of alcohol you could find and hurling it at him, then another. The third bottle you grasps you slam against the large bar island, the sharp now being used as your own weapon. The excess alcohol splashes against you, but you don’t move your eyes from his. 

You duck just as the man attacks, the knife swiping right above your head and with instinct, you thrust your own weapon towards him. 

“Ah-!” you swing it once more and with each swing, the man dodges it. “Get,” swing. “away,” swing. “from me!” you scream, swinging once more, but the Ripper’s glove hand catches your wrist. 

Your free hand is quick, however, grasping the nearest bottle and smashing it against the man's head. 

The Ripper stumbles back, the alcohol shattering and the liquid staining his clothes.

You know well enough that the attack would only stun him, not fully halt him. You toss another, this one hitting him directly in his masked face. 

Your eyes move around with great speed, wondering what you could do next - what weapon could be used upon him to save your life and the life of others.

Your eyes catch them, the small, square box of matches.

You swallow, your body moving before your brain could fully process what you were doing.  Your hands are slippery as you grasp them, but you knew exactly what you were going to do. 

You struck the match, the small flame illuminating against your face. Your eyes meet the Rippers eyeless ones and you tilt your head. 

“I won’t allow you to kill anymore people.” you say to him, almost as if he would care what you would say to him. 

You fling the match and, almost as in slow motion, does it fall onto the pile of alcohol behind the bar and directly in front of him. 

The flames spark immediately and you attempt to make this your exit. You had no idea how long you’d have, especially with the flames growing larger and larger, but you understood that you had to make your way out somehow. 

You’re positive that Jimin is long gone, having no hope of you ever making your way out alive.

The fire spread rapidly and quicker than expected was the entire scenery full of smoke. Your eyes begin to water and your throat clog up. All your ears could hear were the cracking of the flames surrounding you, unsure if this was your final moment alongside the Ripper - and if it truly was, then you couldn’t be upset with yourself.

You promised that you would stop the Ripper - that his reign in Oakville would come to an end. You promised Seokjin that his once quiet and safe town would return to just that, not realizing that your life would also be a part of that promise.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

Your chest felt heavy, as if someone was seated right on top of you. Your head is pounding, an increasing pain at all angles that even with your eyes closed, it feels as if the room is spinning.

You were trying so desperately to open your eyes - to see what the fuck was going on like the voice was speaking.

“Y/N?”

Y/N.

Y/N.

The voice appears far away, like a distant echo. You recognize the voice - Seokjin.

Where were you?

Where was he?

Why was everything so dark?

Seokjin presses a hand to your shoulder, squeezing it gently as your eyes begin to flutter open, completely glossy and dazed. The oxygen mask clings onto you, assisting in your breathing.

“You’re finally awake.” Jin sighs, closing his eyes for a few moments. “Can you hear me, Y/N?”

You cough, as expected, and Jin waits for you for him to continue.

“Jin…” you cough once more, your eyes wandering around to where you were at. “...how-”

“Are you fucking insane, Y/N?!” Jin hisses, his once soft eyes now enraged. “I had to hear from Daniel that you came face to face with the Ripper?!”

Daniel.

Jimin.

The Ripper.

Your mind swirls with what happened. Where was Jimin? Had the Ripper survived the fire since you had - did he manage to escape?

“Jin.” you begin to lift yourself up from the bed and Jin shakes his head. “I-”

“You are not capable of going anywhere, Y/N! You’ve literally survived a fire!” Jin nearly screams. 

“Where is he?” your throat is aching, but you had to know what was going on. “Where’s Jimin-”

“Gone.” Jin grits his teeth. “We…don’t need to worry about Jimin anymore, Y/N. Focus-”

“Gone?” your hands reach up at the hospital mask and you begin to lift it from your face. “Gone where? Has he been arrested or-”

“He was gone by the time we arrived, Y/N!” Jin doesn’t want to take out his frustrations upon you, but you were acting daft. His hands slap yours away from the oxygen mask and he places it back where it was once located. “Obviously he had no intention of you escaping the Ripper. Daniel told me as much as he knows.” Jin explains. “The theater is burned to the ground, Y/N. You’re lucky to even be alive.”

You inhale, the information clogging your brain.

Jimin was gone - as expected. Who else managed to escape?

“The Ripper…” you trail off. 

“There wasn’t another body recovered in the fire.” Jin murmurs back, eyes blinking away. “And right now, Y/N, I don’t care about the Ripper.” he shakes his head. “You could’ve lost your life right then and there. I…”

Jin turns away from you and you understand that this would weigh on his shoulders. Your heart jolts at the thought of Jin and what guilt he may be feeling. 

“I’m capable of taking care of myself, Jin.” you inhale. You could still hear the harsh cracking of the fire as it spread throughout the theater. “I did this for the case-”

“Fuck the case, Y/N!” Jin’s eyes turn back to you, dark ones staring right into your own. “I wouldn’t have cared if the Ripper was still alive and well as long as you made it out of there alive.”

Jin swallows, inhaling deeply.

“I don’t…I don’t want to blame you. It isn’t your fault, Y/N. You couldn’t have known but…” Jin blinks a few times, trying to find the words to say to you. “...I don’t want you on this case, anymore. It’s too risky and-”

“What?”

You look pathetic, barely able to raise your voice past a hoarse whisper. 

“You’re off the case.” Jin repeats. “Don’t fight me on this, Y/N. I’m-”

“I’m not getting off the case. I-”

“I want you to stay in Oakville.” Jin interrupts, raising his voice to challenge your own. “I want you to stay here. With me.”

You swallow, throat aching for some water but all you could think about are Jin’s words at the moment. 

“I want you to be safe.” Jin begins. “And I can only assure your safety if you’re here with me. Jimin is gone and the majority of the Ripper’s men have since been arrested.”

You sniffle, eyes roaming Jin’s face.

“I…”

“I won’t force you.” Jin shrugs his shoulders, a bit awkwardly. “I…have grown to like your company. I would like you by my side. Here. With me.” he murmurs, hoping that his words - as vague as they were - would have you understand what he truly wants from you. “I appreciate all that you’ve done for the case but now I just want you to fall back. Heal and-”

“I’ll stay.” you nod your head, swallowing back the lump in your throat; that or it was soot, who knows. 

“Good.” Jin licks his lips. “Good.” he sighs in relief, glad that he didn’t have to fight too hard. You were a stubborn one and in a way, he likes it. Not when your life is put into a compromising situation, however. 

As days dragged onto weeks and weeks dragged onto months, your mind can do nothing but wander to Jimin and how someone of his status could just disappear into thin air. The streets of Oakville were slowly returning to how Jin said they were once before - safe and homely. There was very little crime and death was at an all time minimum unless caused by natural causes. 

The once ringing telephone in Jin’s office now laid silent most days and it was just as it was before, peaceful. You began to think that maybe the Ripper was truly gone; that Jimin would never return to Oakville as it was far too risky.

The Ripper’s name was uttered as something in the past - somewhat like a folktale. The town of Oakville now allowed the sun to shine bright above their small, happy town. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to return to your own town?” Jin asks as he sets down your boxes onto the ground of his apartment. It’s labeled “kitchen”. “I don’t want to force you here with me.”

“Are you telling me you want me to go?” you tease, placing a smaller box on top of the one he sat down and cross your arms. 

“Of course not.” Jin scoffs with a playful roll of his eyes. “I just don’t want to remove you from your home.”

“Oakville is my home now.” you uncross your arms to throw a jab at Jin’s side, an act that he dodges effortlessly, smooth hands grasping your wrist to bring you closer to him. 

You’re unsure how you’d ever explain to someone how you and Jin got closer with one another after the death - or disappearance - of the Ripper. His admission to wanting you by his side was just the first (awkward) step. You working alongside him constantly was another step of you two getting closer, mixed with shy glances and awkward encounters in his home. 

“What are you thinking about?” Jin questions, arms wrapped loosely around you. “And don’t say nothing, either. I know you.”

“Sure.” you scoff, but it was true. Jin did know when your mind was clouded with a thousand thoughts at once. “Jimin…”

“Ah, of course.” Jin rests his forehead against yours. 

“You think I’m foolish to keep thinking about him, huh?” you snort. 

“No, of course not. It’s in your nature.” Jin responds. “Jimin is like…an unsolved case to you. You’re fiending-”

You pinch Jin in the chest slightly and he yelps.

“Hey!” Jin flinches but chuckles heartily at your reaction. “It’s the truth! You’re just a determined detective.”

Jin squeezes you a bit. “It’s not your fault. I want to know where the bastard went, myself. But dwelling on it would only drive me insane.”

Jin leans his head back to scan your face. He inhales deeply, a smile slowly creeping onto his lips. 

“I like to think Jimin met his demise. That he’s somewhere laying in a ditch. It’s easier to accept that he could still be out there in another town alive and well.” 

“Ugh,” you groan and throw your head back. It’s easier for Jin to not care about things such as this - maybe it was because he was a man. Men tend to lack any form of sense. 

Jin is quick to press his lips against your neck, plump lips kissing the spot he knows would be your sweet spot.

“Just forget about Jimin and everything else for now.” Jin murmurs.

“We’re supposed to redecorate…!”

“We have all week for that.” Jin exclaims. “It isn’t like there’s a lot of crime, Y/N.”

You hated when Jin was being logical. There was a lot of time on your hands as Oakville has become such a safe haven for the townspeople again. 

“How about you,” Jin’s lips crash against yours to silence you and you’re only partially surprised. “mph, just go lock up downstairs and-”

“Ugh,” Jin groans but he knows you’re right. He has already told several officers that they could go home early. Business had really slowed the last few months. “fine.” he sighs. “Then we’ll pick up where we started?”

You nod your head, a glint in your eyes that has Jin excited. 

Your eyes follow as Jin scurries out the door, his footsteps growing more faint with each passing step. You release a sigh, your body radiating heat. 

“Let’s see what I can do while Jin is locking up.” you speak to yourself, eyes roaming to the array of boxes until your eyes catch one.

Jin had insisted that he move the boxes full of items you didn’t use into the attic. They’re filled with memorabilia mostly instead of day to day items. 

You grab a chair to open the attic door to the ceiling, the stairs squeak as you drop them down onto the ground. A bit of dust catches your nostrils and instantly, you sneeze.

You grasp the box and begin to slowly ascend the attic stairs. It’s dark mostly, but your phone light is all you truly needed to not be completely creeped out by the scenery. 

There’s already boxes up there - expected seeing as Jin did state he kept the area as storage. You place your box down on the ground and grasp your flashing phone from on top of it. You scan the area, not finding anything out of the ordinary. There’s rows of boxes all closed and on top of one another, your camera finding that there’s an insane amount of dust covering the top of it that indicates that neither of them has been opened in years.

Though, your eyes catch a chest that is the only item inside the attic that isn’t covered in dust and grime and you hum. Your feet stroll towards the chest, kneeling down to shine your flashlight right at it. It’s wooden and a mahogany color, the top drawer slightly cracked open.

Your free hand pulls at the drawer to open, shining the light inside. It’s nearly  empty, aside for a few pieces of jewelry, you note, and what appears to be picture’s facing down.

“Is this an invasion of privacy…?” you ask yourself but your hand grabs at the pictures either way.

They’re old pictures and now you think they're of Jin in his youth. Your eyes scan each passing photo, more and more children coming into each frame. 

Your eyes stop at one in particular, dozen of children standing in front of what appears to be a warehouse-like building. 

Your eyes blink a few times before squinting.

“What…?” you murmur, orbs staring at a familiar face of you, right in the corner of said picture. You recall the exact outfit you wore that day, covered in mud and grime. 

You swallow, slamming the picture down into the drawer. Your heart is pounding and your head is swirling with far too many emotions to count. 

Your eyes catch onto the next photo and your heart sinks at who.

Jimin.

Jimin and Jin.

They’re young - possibly teenage years. However, they’re both smiling ear to ear with arms wrapped around the other’s shoulder.

Your breathing increases.

“Jin…”

Your ears hear him - Jin. He isn’t home yet, however he will be. He’s just down the hall and you sprint out of the attic. Your nerves are causing you to shake violently and you’re truly unaware how you managed to close the attic door and put the chair back to where it belonged as he entered. 

“I’m back. Do you think we should order a…” Jin’s eyes turn to you and instantly, he freezes. “...pizza...? Is something…wrong?” He tries to laugh but nothing is amusing.

“Huh?” you try to sound unfazed, but you know you look as though you’ve just seen a ghost. 

“Is everything okay?” Jin steps closer to you and without thinking, you step back. 

“Yeah.”  you nod your head. You touch your forehead with the back of your hand. “I’m…just feeling tired.” you lie. “And…hot. I need a-”

“Y/N.” Jin takes another step forward and with each step, you take one back. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You swallow.

Jin and Jimin knew one another. They were friends the least.

Jin knows you - for fuck sakes you knew Jin. You’ve blocked out your past life as much as you can that you completely forgot your ‘brothers and sisters’ and now Jin stands before you, reminding you everything of the past life you wished to keep behind you.

“Y/N.” Jin repeated, this time his voice was deeper and more stern.

“How did you know where to find me?” you ask Jin. “When…the fire broke out?”

“Daniel told me.” Jin responds with a tilt of his head. “Is something wrong?”

“How did you know I fought the Ripper?” you question. “Daniel wouldn’t have known. He wasn’t in the theater with me.���

Jin is silent and only his heady eyes are watching you. 

“Is there something you want to ask me, Y/N?” Jin stands straighter. “Go out and ask. Don’t jump through useless questions.”

You want to ask Jin what was truly on your mind - you were just afraid of the response. 

“Why…how do you know me?”

“That’s your question?” Jin scoffs. “You’ve been in the attic, have you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost…like a person who’s been shown the truth.”

“Stop coming closer.”

“Why?” Jin doesn’t listen and he slowly steps closer to you. “Are you afraid of me, Y/N?”

“Stop.” your teeth grit. 

“Ask me what you want to know, Y/N. I’ll answer you truthfully.”

You have nowhere to run without him easily catching you. Your heart was beating so loud that it was getting hard to focus.

“You…you’re him.” you shake your head in near disbelief. 

“Are you upset with me, Y/N? Do you look at me differently because…I was the Ripper?”

You release a choke gasp of disbelief. 

“You tried to kill me!” your back hits a wall and you curse at your own bad decisions. “You-”

“I could’ve gutted you a long time ago!” Jin suddenly roars - one so loud that it echoes off of the walls. He stomps towards you. “I could’ve had your blood seeping through these floors the same night you came.”

Jin slams his hands on either side of your face against the walls.

“I could’ve killed you that night you presented yourself for Jimin so willingly…for me so willingly.”

“What…?”

“I knew you and I were meant for one another right then and there, Y/N. When you said you would be thinking of me while giving yourself to another man.”

Your night with Jimin was another night you would rather forget and often block out.

“I don’t…I-I don’t understand-”

“You don’t think it was Jimin who fucked you, right?” Jin scoffs with a shake of his head. He looks so different. His eyes…they were so cold and deranged. So distant. 

Your stomach churns at Jin’s words. 

“You’re as strong as I remember you were. You fought me the entire time at the theater. I wasn’t expecting you to be so dumb and cause a fire.” Jin shakes his head with a low tsk. “I had to get the both of us out of there before anything happened.”

Your hands, as rough as they could, shove along his chest to get him away from you. 

“Get the fuck away from me!” you hiss, eyes blurred with hot tears. 

“You’re being rash, now, Y/N.” Jin spit. “Don’t let this ruin us.”

“You’re a murderer!” you hiss, your eyes viewing Jin as he was; the Ripper. 

“And you’re any better, Y/N?” Jin laughs. “Or does it not count because it was just a bit of poison?”

Your eyes widened at Jin’s words.

Your fist clench - another memory unblocked. 

“I didn’t…you and Jimin and-”

“If anything, you were an accessory. You caused the fire that got rid of all the evidence, baby.” Jin shrugs his shoulders. “You’re just as bad as me. Get off your fucking high horse.”

“No.” you shake your head. 

“Yes.” Jin scoffs. “The Ripper is dead, Y/N. I killed that part of me so that you and I can be together. Don’t you get that!”

Jin is quick in his movement, snatching your shoulders and forcing you to look at him. 

“The Ripper is dead. Kim Seokjin is not.” Jin grits his teeth, appearing utterly deranged. “You and I can be a family again, Y/N. Eventually you’ll come around to Jimin, too.”

“You know where Jimin is?”

“Of course I do.” Jin smiles. “Jimin is my brother. Our brother.” he murmurs. “We all went down different paths but we’re together again. The Ripper was just a phase that I’ve gotten over.”

You didn’t know Jin - not as much as you thought you had. These eyes weren’t the eyes of the Jin you were growing to love. He didn’t look as kind and soft; his eyes were different. They dance with insanity as he speaks. 

“You aren’t going to leave me again, right?” Jin watches you intensely. “I'd hate to have to kill the both of us, Y/N. But if that’s what you want.”

You stiffen, your ears not believing what they were hearing. 

“We can pretend you never found out about the past and go back to what we were doing.” Jin’s hands begin to sooth you, rubbing along your shoulders. “We can order pizza and do what we normally do.”

You feel the tear drop onto your cheek before you realize you’re crying. You’re unsure of what to say or how to respond to this new information - you’re left with more questions than answers; questions you’re far too afraid to truly grasp.

“Or…I kill you. Then myself.” Jin shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t let your emotions get in the way of our love, baby.” 

halloween masterlist

[dolliestfairy]

𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝅄ֹ ׅ♡ ೀ ʚĭɞ ‌ིᨴּ ˒˒۪

(Crazy) Yandere [Nerd] Boy x Soft!Chubby!Fem!Reader ༢𓏲๋ ⊹ ֢

𔓘 Tw : Kidnapping, Extreme Noncon (y'all are strangers bro), Rushed Fanfic, Mentions Of Blood, Virginity-Take, Extreme Somnophilia, Stalking, Extreme Obsession, Impregnate, A little of Bondage, Seriously dude you're fucking with a crazy nerd boy who is a freaking stranger to you like y'all didnt know each other but this madman is really know you to the soul from all his stalking and stuff. this fanfic is quite the Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Chubby reader fics with no skintone of reader mentioned.

𔓘 A/N : y'all.. this are f***king insane bro.. like this is kinda disturbing imo as a writer of this and also a lot of suffocating. Read at your own risk. me myself actually like the extreme yandere fics but this is still the prefix of it. stay safe while reading this because again; y'all are a stranger!! if a dark content yandere isnt your cup of tea then i highly recommend you to spend your shit at other blogs!! ty.

W/C : 6,4K for Stranger Fucking 💀

Currently thinking abt nerdy men who looks like they would shit in their pants when someone raised their voice at them, but the truth is; he's really really quite the strong. he's a nerdy man who arent shy at all (or maybe just a little) and he's simply just dont like to be bothered by anyone else. he's also a nerdy man who told himself countless time to just focus on studying and studying, and at the first moment; he actually manage to do it within his daily life, well until he met you.

You; plump, soft looking girl with chubby cheeks and doe eyes. you dont even know how much you affect him didnt you? arent you just dumb? walking there and then with such a tiny skirt that almost showed up your plump ass cheeks. walking down in the hallway with such dress that hugged all of your curves together perfectly. oh if only you find out how every night he would spend his time in his bedroom alone while his hand thrust his own cock up and down, thinking about you. he would be drown in his thoughts about how you would find out all his dark fantasy about you. but.. he do realize he shouldnt be doing this actually, no really, he should just be studying, but the soft laugh and those.. those whimpers terror you gave him just drove him to his edge.

And the fact that he masturbate about you when you both are clearly still stranger - is fucking crazy. he mostly had heard of how'd you talk, whimper and moan (wait.. how did.. he know?) and stuff like that while your own self being completely un guard around him. he swear to his thumbs he hated you for making him felt like this, i mean how could you?? a plump girl just trying to get into her daily life as normal as usual can make some nerd dude mad in love with her without her being aware at all?! he cant do this.. he cant do this anymore..!

And he really cant do it anymore. as he go to your apartement at midnight after finding out where you live. peeking through the window to what you were doing only to find you dressing in a short pastel rainbow dress lingerie with big bows placed in the back of your hair, dancing to some songs.. and oh my god he cant even explain how much he want to ripped those colorful dress lingerie off your body. he has no doubt at all that you have the most beautiful body he would ever sees in his entire life.

As he drown himself in his own thoughts until he heard a telephone ring -- it was your friend! your male friend! as you picked the phone up, talking with your friends, while he sees with his own eyes about the way you laugh softly at what-god-knows your friend was muttering to you. he doesnt and he would rather bury himself alive than admitting about the fact that he was really, really, envy and jealous. as he harshly breath at you, while all his body is literally focus with you. his eyes seeing you from head-to-toe, his ears listening carefully about the conversation you're having as his mouth try to resist to open it again because well um -- he is quite the drooling over there. that was it until you start to walk towards the front door where he was outside!!

As he sees you carefully, while hiding himself in the corner, and focused on the door handle you're about to open. until........

Until he quickly enough to put his arms and placed it onto your mouth, shuting you up until you passed out and bring you to your new home his home. as he open the bondage he placed at your mouth, and pinch your chubby cheeks until he sees your whimpering again. thats it! thats the thing that always drove him mad everydsy everynight. thinking about you whimper at whatever he was doing was like a holy candle for him. he then stood himself up, looking at your half unconscious body, and then start to strip you... to naked.

As he softly ripped all the dress lingerie you weared, and after he got the look at your boobs, he slowly put his hands up at where your nipples on, and start playing with it. while his eyes focused on your face, waiting the reaction he have been wait. and until then... you are moaning. honestly he have been thinking that he was in a dream that time. i mean -- he do have seen you moan by the way he always check on you secretly.. but he never except his own self to be the only one who could capable enough to hear your soft moan. as he sped up the phase of his hands playing your nipple, while his own other hand strat to undress himself.

And until he and your own finally completely naked. and... oh god to be damned. he swear he always sees you at some kind of whore while your other friend sees you just as an innocent normal girl, and he always have no doubt about his feelings That you have such an erotic body and at the end.. he was actually right. you do have a very very.. pleaseable body. as he placed his hands into your half unconscious body, lowering it until his hands touch your private part -- your pussy. he slowly but surely put his 3 long fingers in to play with you, and to be surprised or.. shocked even, that you are so so fucking damn tight! he even sure that your pussy is one of the most tightest thing he'd ever placed his hands on, as he quickly sped-ing up his pace at playing your pussy, watching you moan and whimper become one, he cant believe what he saw. you're literally still half unconscious! but yet you somehow still manage to bring out the sound he would die for with! at this rate he doesnt know if he wants to wake you up or just let you still be half unconscious so when you wake up, you're gonna have a some extra surprised with your naked body that has been covered with his cums. as he thinking about it while he placed his (quite big) cock at your pussy. trying to rip those tight wall of your pussy off. thats what he was trying to do until your pussy start showing a little drop of blood out of it.

Oh.. he get it.. yeah he actually get it. You're a Virgin arent you? oh.. such sweet cheeks.. well too bad yoi're going to give all of your innocents left as his own hands and dicks. the body of someone you dont even know at all. he actually felt (just a little) bit of guilt. but who cares anyway? you're literally still half unconscious! as he said it to himself while he tried his possible to pound your ass up at your fat pussy. going in and up in every corner. at first it was slowly, but then he start to change the position into a mating press just so the cums and the blood are still there. as he quickly but surely speeding his pace up like a mad man. at this rate he was at the edge of doesnt gave a fuck about the fact that you're still half unconscious but then he's also at the edge of shock and unbelief because of how you are still not waking up at his pounding.

And all of those pounding ends when his cock start to dried out with how your fat pussy suck all his cums and sperma in. pulling his cock out of your pussy only to see the view of the inside of your pussy, being drown with his cums. as his hands hold your body up just so all the cums he had restored isnt goung to spill. and until then he slowly put his hands down, letting your body down into the mating press position, watching your pussy spilling all of his cums like a fucking waterfall. (his cum waterfall) and then he placed his palm hands at your cheeks softly, while quietly muttering about how he would take care of you, and keeping you safe and that you wouldnt need to be scared of him (even after all his done to you) as he placed his other hand at your undressed belly, and then stroke it with such gentleness because he knew that right now, right at the almost-morning time, that you're going to be swellen with thousands - thousands of his sperm, and at the end of the month, he would see you placed your own hands at your bellies who at that time was full with his kid. oh how he cant wait... he just hope that you wouldnt be freaked out about the fact that you just found yourself in a unrecognizeable place with a literal fucking stranger who is now has placed a baby inside of you. yes, a baby -- his baby.

TSUKISHIMA KEI, ITOSHI RIN, MEGUMI, Itachi, Shikamaru, Nanami, Neji, Tobirama, Deku, KUNIMI, Muichiro, SEMI EITA, Konoha Akinori, Venti, XIAO, AL-HAITAM, Akaashi, KOZUME KENMA, & hatake kakashi.

did i forgeting anyone? insert ur fav!

Dolliestfairy's © Works. Do Not Repost My Creation at Any Platfroms Without My Permission.

[starboye]

starring: ghostface!drew starkey x male reader

request: ghostface/drew starkey x bubble butt fem boy twink: he calls you and he does the iconic ghostface quote but he notices you’re wearing some really tight boxers and knee high socks so he breaks in you do the chase thing, you tried crawling through the doggy door but you get stuck and he rips open your boxes and eats your ass and then fucks you like a slut, then he helps you get out and fucks you all around your house( you wake up to note saying he’ll be back and stuff like that

warnings: smut, cursing, mention of blood, knife, ass eating, dub-con to consensual, breeding kink, stomach bulge, daddy kink, slight degradation, yandere action from drew, threats, stalking

it was supposed to be a normal night, with you finally all alone in your house in some nice underwear and cute socks chilling the night away with movies and snacks, that was until you got a call from some unknown number and picked up the phone "hello" you cheerily answered but the only thing you could hear from the other side was heavy breaths.

you hung up the phone after the person didn't answer and was about to go back too enjoying your movie till you got another call from the same number, this time answering it with a little more aggression "look here i don't know if this is some sick prank but stop calling" you angrily say before hanging up, but the number calls back again.

you were going to ignore it but the rings were driving you insane so you picked up the phone and just when you were about to scream at the person they spoke "what's your favorite horror movie" the man asks in a friendly but eery tone "what" you asked confused by his random question.

"what is your favorite horror film" he asks again, this time in a more flirtatious tone "and why do you wanna know" you inquire now slightly twirling the cord of the telephone around your finger "i dunno just curious i guess" he says and you fail to notice him outside your kitchen window, lightly running his blade over the glass.

"well i guess mine is scream" you chuckle "wow really that's so cliche" the man says and you could hear the smirk on his face "hey don't judge me" you say "i won't i just didn't expect that from someone as flattering as yourself y/n" he laughs making you freeze in your place "h-how do you know my name" you nervously ask looking around your house frantically.

"oh i know everything about you y/n l/n, from where you work, what you do, and even where you live" he eerily says before hanging up the call and banging on your door feircely "come on y/n let me innn" the man yells in a creepy sing songy voice making you panic even more, and fear sets in as he finally breaks the door down.

it creaking open to a man in a ghostface mask with a knife in hand "come to daddy" the man taunts starting a chase around the house, you trying to dodge him by jumping around through the kitchen and living room, smashing a vase across his face in hopes of slowing him down till you saw an exit, the doggy door.

you hurriedly rush towards the doggy door and slide through at first but you lower half gets stuck behind the door as the man recovers and sees you, all stuck with no way out from his coming attack "well what happend here" he teases running the cold metal across the thigh of your leg making you shiver with fear "don't worry prince i'm not gonna hurt you i'm gonna make you feel so good" the man smiles.

"who the fuck are you" you ask "ghostface but you can call me drew" he says taking off the mask to reveal his very attractive face "well mr.drew could you help me i'm really stuck" you say swaying your ass back and forth to lure him in, his hands planting on your ass and you could feel his breath graze your covered ass and just then you kicked his face with your leg.

"son of a bitch" he curses loudly wincing at the pain now in his lip,you try to wiggle out and you almost manage it but drew roughly pulls you back getting you stuck again in the small door way "and just when i was thinking of maybe letting you go too" he says ripping your underwear off leaving your ass out for him and he wastes no time and dives into your ass, licking and lapping at your hole.

his hands kneading your ass like dough and his teeth nipping at the skin of your smooth ass, you whimper out as you struggle to stay focused on how to get out of this situation "shit you taste so fucking good" drew huffs lifting from his assault on your ass before pulling you back into the house making you yelp out, he turns you over on your back and forces you to look at him.

"listen here, i'm gonna fuck you now and if you try to run ima tie you up instead m'kay" he asks, the knife blade at your neck drawing some blood "yes sir" you say scared shitless at this point, he picks you up and sets you on the table, letting his hard on fall out and slap your hole, you whimper at just the feel and sight of the scary man spitting into his hand to lube you both up.

he slides in with some resistance from you but once his hips begin thrusting into you, you become a moaning mess on his cock as the thrust of him jolt your backward on the table but he holds you close by gripping your hips, seeing you very uncomfortable on the table he moves you to the living room floor.

laying you down and resuming his assault on your tight hole, covering your mouth as to not alert the neighbors of this "fuckkk you feel so good, don't i fell so big in you baby" drew asks looking at you with lust fueled eyes, his hips snapping into your ass making it nearly impossible to answer the question with anything other than incoherent babbles.

"look at you already making a mess on daddys cock" drew smirks cockily seeing your messy hole create a cream ring around the base of his dick before you cum with a loud moan, your nails digging into his back leaving scratches through his clothes "such a good botch for me" drew mutters lifting you up onto the couch and fucking you on his cock as the tv plays none other than scream.

"look at that it's your favorite movie right" drew asks directing your clouded attention to the tv which you could barely understand from the dick that was currently stuffing you full "don't blink or you could miss the best part" drew says with a grin as your head rocked back and forth not even paying attention "you just want daddy to fill you up huh, full of all my cum right" he says nuzzling into your neck.

"fuc- yesss daddy i want your cum so... so bad please breed me" you breathlessly huff running your fingers through his hair and gripping them, creating a sting in the mans scalp but he liked it "yeah gonna have you walking around here dripping with all my jizz" drew groans as he feels his climax brewing in him.

"please please mr ghostface i want it so bad" you moan out gripping his hair tighter till he came in you, painting your walls white and spreading your walls even further till you got a little bulge in your stomach from the inflation of his thick cum, him groaning deeply in your ear as he fucks you on his dick, you could feel his cum swirl around in you.

but after that you remember dropping onto the couch unconscious, drew having had left in this ruined state, when you woke up the next morning you thought it was all a dream, till you felt the aching pain in your ass and felt the cum dripping out of you and found a note on the table next to the ghostface mask he wore "i'll be back tonight, leave the back door unlocked and wear something slutty for me" it said.

you knew it wasn't the best idea to fuck someone like him but with the way he had you dumb cock drunk in seconds last night you couldn't resist and went out and bought some nice lingerie for them man and waited ass up for the secret man to arrive, hearing the back door open and shut was all you needed to hear for the heat in you to start rising again.

taglist: @mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @kadenvatsune

©starboye productions

[eatingoutmen]

MDNI. - ⚠︎ 18+ content || 🎥 ;; 「 ✦ ATTENTION WHORE ✦ 」 || 🎬 STARRING : ANDRÉS “BERLIN” DE FONOLLOSA

How did you get yourself in this predicament?

You have your hands tied behind your back, a gag around your mouth while sitting on a chair as your eyes observed ANDRÉS riding you with a deliberate and controlled pace, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he rode your cock; your tip hitting his sweet spot with each thrust and rocking of his hips against your lap. “Shit- fucking hell… such a good boy you are for me.” ANDRÉS groans with a breathless chuckle, you could only let out a frustrating whimper and writhe your body beneath his. You turned your head to hear the telephone ringing insistently on the desk, your attention was caught on the device for a moment; your eyes focused on the telephone as it rang while your mind raced with possibilities knowing it was probably the Professor calling.

“Look at me.” ANDRÉS commanded as he moved his hand and cupped your cheek gently yet firm to guide your attention back to him, you let out a needy whine as your secret lover stopped his movements and stayed still on your lap while he clicked his tongue. “Focus on me, and me alone.”

That immediately shut you up to an instant, you nodded your head obediently whined needily through the gag. ANDRÉS smirked playfully and began to ride you again, resuming his slow and controlled pace as he let out a soft grunt. “Fuckkk… querido…” ANDRÉS grunted, feeling your cock stretching out his hole while the telephone ringed insistently in the background but neither of you could focus on that right now at this intense and scandalous moment you two were having. “Mmm… you feel so good, amor…” He moaned and began to ride you faster, making you whimper and moans grow louder despite the gag in your mouth. “That’s it, good boy. Eyes on me.” ANDRÉS praised with a small smirk.

He kept doing this for a while, riding your cock while you stretched out his hole as well as his walls. You knew you wouldn’t last any longer because you could feel your orgasm approaching on how much your cockhead kissed his prostate over and over again as he relentlessly bullies himself on your cock. “You close?” ANDRÉS asked with a smirk, you moaned through the gag and nodded your head quickly, he let out a breathy laugh and rode you faster and groaned feeling his own release approaching.

A few more sloppy and relentless thrusting and eventually you reached your climax, your cock emptying your seed and came inside him and painted his walls white. ANDRÉS let out a needy moan as his own release followed, his cum shooting out of his cock and landing onto both your red jumpsuits, he pressed his forehead against yours while you both panted heavily and came down your highs at the aftermath. “Was it good for you, hm?” ANDRÉS teased with a cocky grin, he moved a hand removed the gag from you which allowed you to catch your breath more. The corner of lips tugged a sheepish smile as you let out a soft chuckle, “What’s so funny?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

“The phone… it’s still ringing.” You gestured with a glance towards the desk, he rolled his eyes and scoffed before turning his head towards the telephone that was still insistently ringing after being long forgotten by both of you. “So? Ignore it then.” ANDRÉS replied, which made you chuckle more and stared at him mischievously.

“God, sometimes I love it when you’re an attention whore.”

ʚ all works belong to eatingoutmen — do NOT steal, copy or repost anywhere without my permission from ME personally. ɞ