#and the second time around i wasn't any better at it either

[possesseddesiress]

The Great Shift: Streaming

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes.

If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

The Great Shift: Streaming

My name is Phil, I just got into college and I feel pretty lost about my life. I got into a career that I don't even like (but my parents said that money and opportunities matter more), I don't have many friends, much less a partner.

The few friends I have say it's weird that I'm so unsuccessful in love, I'm not bad looking, though maybe... yeah too skinny.

I don't have a hint of muscle, I'm small and scrawny. Also very shy, I do my best with regards to relating to others, but it's like I fail epically every time I try.

It was like my life was destined for unhappiness... and I was settling for that.

That afternoon was pretty quiet, I had a few chores (that I didn't understand), just me in my room at school because my roomie was out, and all my friends were busy. A pathetic afternoon, really.

I lay back on my bed, let out a sigh, pulling out my phone. Something I was quite a fan of, was video games, I liked the mechanics, the designs, and partly because I could pretend to be someone else: to know other worlds, other stories, although no doubt, it was also boring to play without other people.

So in part I also liked to watch some video game streamers. How they narrated the games, their charisma or their jokes, many times I just watched them while I was eating or doing something else.

There was one in particular, his name was Corey. Corey or better known as Noobro, was quite famous on Twitch, and had a certain charisma that I found quite attractive.

I looked up his profile, noticing that he was live.

- How are you today? - he said with a smile, he was playing something like Fornite. He said a couple of things but I didn't even pay attention thanks to a strange buzzing sound that started to play quite loudly. I couldn't quite identify the source, it almost seemed to be coming from my own brain.

I let go of the phone, clenching my head. I heard Corey moaning in the same way on the live feed, I swear even the lights flickered as if they were going to explode. And all at once, everything went black.

A second or two later, I felt some sort of tug, and I saw light again. I looked around confused, besides having a bad headache, I couldn't make out the noises very well either, they were like low murmurs of what seemed to be... music?

I wasn't listening to music before this, what the heck? I opened my eyes without being able to focus at all. Until I ended up glimpsing a computer in front of me.

A computer?

I blinked several times thinking that maybe it was a hallucination, but the computer with a loading screen was still in front of me every time I closed and opened my eyes. It seemed to be from a... game.

I noticed that he was also wearing headphones. I moved my face closer to the screen to notice that there was a camera above, and on the screen. A series of messages, and a thumbnail of someone's camera, seemed strange to me until I saw that it responded to my movements.

Wait... that wasn't someone's camera. That was my camera. But... Where am I?

I looked down at my hands, noticing thick fingers where small ones used to be, followed by a huge hand. I swallowed nervously, but mostly confused. I looked around, it was then that I noticed that the room looked strangely familiar.

I refocused my gaze on the screen, reading the comments, my heart pounding as I read some of them:

《 Hey, noob 》 《 What will you play today, noob? 》

I picked up a phone that was on the table, opened the camera and almost fainted at the sight of my reflection.

The man I watched almost day and night for his videos and live feeds was now in front of me... copying every move I made.

For a moment surprise was the only thing inside me, until I smelled his scent.

I noticed my new stench... strong, masculine, quite stinky, I almost let out a gasp. I wanted more, that was for sure, I tried to pull down a little more the sleeve of the t-shirt that was a little tight to expose my hairy armpits, but because of my new strength, I ended up tearing it.

Out of concern, I ended up cracking a smile, raised my arm and placed it behind the backrest, flexing it and enjoying the sensation; as my bicep swelled up and showed off my new huge muscles.

I almost didn't remember that Corey was originally on a live feed, until I heard the messages start coming out one after another.

Some confused, talking about how they woke up in other bodies and didn't know who they were now, but others were more... interesting.

《You're not him, are you? 》《 I was watching this video in my previous body, I ended up in someone else's who was also watching it, Noob, is it still you? 》

My shyness was about to cut off the transmission, but I felt a strange tingling, I had never felt it before, it was... courage?

- Nah, I'm not him - I said with unfamiliar confidence. It was strange for me to act like this but at the same time it felt so right, like something was finally finding its place in me.

《 And who are you? 》 《 How does it feel to be inside him? 》

- Well, I won't say who I was before. That's not important - I smiled, flexing my arms - It feels amazing, I look good, don't I?

I flexed my arms more and more towards the camera again, I also grabbed my pecs to start massaging them.

《 Let us see more then 》

- You sure are dirty, aren't you? - I teased, although I wasn't at all uncomfortable with what they were asking - I guess they're my fans now, so I must please you.

I spread my legs, feeling his thick build, wide and fat... I moved a little closer to the screen, starting to make slight provocative gestures: sticking out my tongue, biting my lip.

I looked like a fool at first though.... I felt good, and watching the messages explode with excitement did nothing but cheer me up more.

I continued to smell my new stinky, hairy armpits.

- You guys would love to be smelling this, seriously - I pressed my nose against my skin, ecstatic. Continuing that exploration for what seemed like hours, several of them even sent me some pretty juicy tips for getting.... more creative.

That day was somewhat chaotic in the streets, there was panic and no one knew what to do. It took the world at least a week to get used to the “Big Shift”, or at least that's what the scientists called it.

They explained that 80% of the world's population changed bodies without any control or pattern. Some changed between families, others with people from other countries, between genders... it was definitely chaos. Although it is quite lucky if we are honest, the exploration in private was undoubtedly... wonderful.

However, I did have a hard time adjusting to my new body, specifically because of the... work part.

Apparently, Corey's job wasn't just being a streamer, he was also an accountant. The career that I was about to study and that I didn't understand at all. So clearly, I ended up losing the job in a few weeks.

They gave me compensation for the whole body swap thing and at least to keep me afloat for about two months. I felt like it was all coming down but then I thought of something. Corey was famous on Twitch and other social media because he was charismatic, right?

Plus... He had a really good body.

Why wasn't I capitalizing on that?

The first bold move I took on his body was to wax my entire chest, I liked how he looked with hair, I must admit. Although seeing him hairless made it more... eye-catching. Two fat bulges that would catch anyone's attention.

I started uploading more racy stuff, pictures working out, in the gym, sweaty, with clothes that barely covered.

It was a risky move, but it sure paid off, in no time, I also opened a slightly more... explicit account, and suddenly I didn't have to worry about money anymore. I could have this glorious body in all its glory, play video games most of the day, make enough money to support myself and even have more for my personal tastes. I even bought a new car!

My life as Corey was going great, I finally had confidence with other guys (and none of them would miss the opportunity to get all body worshipping), I had money, I was doing what I loved. I finally had a purpose in life.

I'm sure you wonder what happened to the original Corey, don't you? Well, he ended up in my body.

Some people suffered a "direct" exchange, which was that two consciousnesses moved between their bodies, closing only between them.

I talked to him for a while, I thought he would be upset or going crazy, but no, he was actually happy to relive his youth again, study again the career he liked (and take advantage of his knowledge), even try to do streaming again. I think he's doing well even though he's more successful as an influencer or something.

I just know that I improve my appearance quite a bit.

And I know he also watches a lot of my new content (I checked the subscriber list so I know he's definitely there), I guess he likes to see his body still. Maybe he even fondles himself watching my videos.

Anyway, I feel pretty good about being Corey now, the big "Noobro", and not just "big" in video games, if you know what I'm talking about.

- Hey guys, welcome to a new video. I just got back from the gym all sweaty - I smiled before dipping my nose into my armpit, leaving it on display for the camera's delight - How about we play something new today?

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I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.

I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?

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[drabbles-mc]

Invisible Silver Linings (1/7)

Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x F!Reader

Series Warnings: 18+, Thunderbolts* spoilers, language, angst, mentions of scars, mentions of self-harm/suicidal ideations

Summary: You signed on to become part of a study when you realized that you didn't have anything left to lose. What harm could it really do? How much worse could it really get? ... You didn't expect to get answers to those questions. You also didn't expect to meet Bob. You'd end up thankful for at least one of those things.

Chapter Index

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: i know i haven't written for Marvel in a while, but i started working on this lil series the second i left the theater on Thursday. it's so nice to see Lewis Pullman getting the creds he deserves. 🥰anyway!!!! I've finished this series and will be posting updates on a weekly or twice-weekly basis until it's all up here and good to go. please let me know what you think!

“They've been taking us in batches,” you told him. You hadn't even bothered to introduce yourself to him, but from the moment they brought him into the room with the rest of you, he'd been looking around, a little twitchy and on-edge. You supposed that you couldn't really blame him. It was a strange position that you were all finding yourselves in. Then again, you had all chosen to sign up for it.

He turned and looked at you, eyes wide and worried at the same time. “Wh-what?”

You nodded in the direction of the doors on the opposite end of the room, not the ones that he had just walked through or anyone else either. One set brought you in, another set brought you out. You had yet to see anyone come back into the room after they left, and while there were plenty of things that that could mean, you wondered if it was the worst case scenario that had crossed your mind before. Judging by the look on his face, it wasn't going to take him long to think of that worst case scenario either.

“The doctors. Scientists. Whatever you wanna call them,” you gave up on titles with a shrug, “have been taking people in batches.”

His mouth dipped into a frown as he took in what you said. He looked around the room that the two of you were in, looked at all of the other people who were in there with you. No one looked very happy to be there even though, if their situations were anything like yours, they had signed off on being here. Not that you looked ecstatic either, so maybe you shouldn't judge. You were just tired. And uncomfortable. All these people stuffed into this room and they couldn't find better seating arrangements? At least the clothes they were forcing you all to wear were comfortable, even if they weren't exactly fashionable. Sure, they kind of made you feel like you were in an asylum of some kind, but they were baggy and soft so it could’ve been worse. The new guy looked like he was close to swimming in his.

He looked around long enough to realize that most people were sitting. There were limited chairs and tables, but you clearly hadn't let that deter you as you found a pocket of space on the floor to sit on. Not quite in the corner but you were far enough off to keep an eye on most of the people in the room with you. The entry door was also close by, and while you didn't have any plans or desire to make a break for it just yet, you figured that it might end up being your best bet if it came down to it. Staring down at you, he watched as you rested your head back against the wall behind you. Your legs were bent at the knee, and your arms were draped over the top of them. Whatever it was that he saw in your facial expression must've been just safe and inviting enough for him to decide to sit down next to you.

It wasn’t a graceful descent on his part, but he didn't fall on top of you. He was closer to you than maybe a stranger should've been in a place like this, but he didn’t seem like he even noticed. He crossed his legs, hands resting in his lap as he looked back and forth between you and the room around you. Something about the way he was sitting, the look on his face, he looked a little bit like a boy stuck in a man's body. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who should be signing up for sketchy medical trials that bring you to undisclosed places.

You would've been content to sit there in silence until it was your turn to get called, but apparently you were alone in that sentiment. “I'm Bob, by the way,” he said, sounding more sure of himself than he had the first time he spoke to you.

When you turned to look him in the eye, you found him already waiting and watching, an expectant look on his face that only added to the little aura of innocence around him. You figured one good turn deserved another if the two of you were going to be stuck together for now, so you gave him your name in return. He smiled at the sound of it, giving a tiny nod of acknowledgment.

“I think you're the first person I've talked to since I got here,” you told him.

He tilted his head, brows furrowing in thought. “When did you get here?”

Looking up at the ceiling, you thought about it for a moment. Being in this strange, mostly empty room that had no windows for natural light had already messed up your sense of time even though you hadn't been there that long yet. “Day before last.”

His eyes widened again. “And they still haven't taken you?”

You chuckled. “You should've seen how many people were in here. I think that's why they're doing…whatever they're doing, in batches.”

“How are they choosing people?” he asked, looking now at the small clusters of people who were still waiting. Some people were keeping to themselves, much like you had been before Bob showed up and decided to switch things up on you.

Letting your eyes close while your head was rested back, you shook your head. “No clue. I don't work here.”

He let out a quiet laugh at that. “Right. Sorry.”

Even though you weren't looking at him, choosing instead to stare at the backs of your eyelids, you could still feel the nervous energy that was radiating off him. If he kept this up, he was going to tire himself out before he even got to the hard part. If he couldn’t handle waiting, there was no way that he was going to be cut out for whatever was waiting on the other side of the exit doors. You didn’t have any words of comfort to offer him, mostly because you had no idea what the hell was really going on yourself. Something told you, though, that it wouldn’t take very long for him to pick up another topic of conversation. Wouldn’t take long for him to start asking more questions that you wouldn’t have any answers to.

As if he could hear your thoughts, he said, “Anyone say what exactly it is that they're doing?”

You didn’t open your eyes. “Nope.”

When he spoke up again, his voice was softer, almost like he was afraid for anyone to hear what he was saying. “I hope it works.”

That got you to crack one eye open so you could give him a bit of a sideways glance. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, instead his stare was fixed on the hem of his pants. He'd found a loose thread and was starting to pick at it.

“What'd they tell you?” you asked.

You wondered briefly if his eyes would ever end up getting stuck wide like that. “What?”

Turning your head to face him in earnest once more, you elaborated. “What'd they tell you they were doing? What'd they offer you to do this?”

His expression dampened, and suddenly it was like he couldn’t meet your eyes. His focus shifted back to the thread. He was shaking his head, and something told you the action wasn't directed at you, but rather at himself. “They said that they could make me great. They…they could make me better.” He found it in himself to look at you, and it was then that you could see how glassy his eyes had gotten. “I really wanna be better.” He sniffed, blinking a few times to beat his tears back into submission. Giving his head and shoulders a small shake, he tried to get himself sounding normal again as he asked, “Wh-what'd they tell you?”

“Something similar.” The point of your elbows dug into the tops of your knees as you dropped your head into your hands. Raking your fingers back along your scalp, you rested with your head down for a moment before looking at Bob again. “I'm not really looking to be great. I just,” you shrugged, “it can't get much worse for me so I figured why not?”

The genuine sadness on his face shocked you. All those feelings for someone who was a complete stranger to him. “Oh. I'm sor—”

You waved him off before he could finish the apology. “Don't be. Not like any of it was your fault. Besides, we both still ended up here regardless,” you made a brief gesture to the room, “so what the fuck does it really matter?”

There was a thoughtful frown on his face as he considered your words. “Right.” Quiet filled the space between you again. You could only try to venture a guess at what Bob was thinking about. Probably everything that led him here—that's what you'd spent most of your time thinking about, anyway. Wondering if this was the right choice or not, not that there were many other choices at your disposal anyway. No use in regretting it. You were here in your pajama uniform with Bob and dozens of other people whose names you hadn't bothered to try and learn. This was what you had now. There was nothing more to it than that.

Marvel Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added!): @garbinge @artemiseamoon @late-to-the-party-81 @blackhawkfanatic

[lemotmo]

I'm starting to think that Ravi being in the middle of Buddie is the same thing they did with BT by putting Eddie in every scene to stop it from happening. In the last episode we didn't see anything from Buddie and I think it's going to be like that now. I wanted to know what Ali thinks about this and her opinion is also important to me.

😂Well Nonny, you're in luck!

I was just talking about this topic with Ali and our thoughts are quite the opposite from yours.

First of all, Eddie wasn't in every BT scene just to stop it from happening, because BT did happen, remember? No, he was there to constantly remind the audience that, while Buck might be with T now, there was always someone else there who he relied on and trusted so much more than he ever did T. T was a stand in for Eddie in so many ways. They showed us time and again that Eddie was a better fit for Buck in every single way.

Second, there is absolutely no sign whatsoever they would want to stop Buddie from happening now. They have been setting up the storyline throughout season 8 (especially 8b) and all of it is leading somewhere.

Ali and I both think that Ravi is there for a reason yes, but not the reason you think.

Ravi has been there for a few seasons now. He has seen Buddie interacting since his first day on the job. More recently he was partnered up with Buck and got to know him better. He was there in 8x11 when Buck could talk about nothing else but Eddie. Then he was there to witness Buck and Eddie's silent communication in 8x16.

Buck has gotten to know Ravi better over the last few months and he obviously feels more comfortable around him these days. He seems to trust him in and outside of the field.

Now, in 17 and 18 there will be an earthquake. We have seen tons of bts where Anirudh, Oliver and Eddie are walking in and out of a building in varying degrees of dustiness. Yesterday we got that picture Anirudh made of the same underground space we saw in an earlier photograph of Oliver. He made a beautiful picture of Ryan there.

We don't think that Eddie will be back with the LAFD yet, since he was only back for the funeral and Chris is still in El Paso. He will want to go back to his son asap. But he will also realise that he wants to eventually move back to LA, because we all know that Ryan isn't going anywhere, so it's logical Eddie will move back at one point.

So walk with me for a minute... if Buck and Ravi end up getting stuck and/or pinned in a tight space underneath a building, without any way out, Eddie will most certainly come running unoffically to help them get out. It would explain his plain white henley under his turnouts.

Personally, I think that Gerrard will let him help out and even give him his turnouts back (Gerrard discovered that Bobby had hold on to them somewhere in the hope that Eddie would return someday, just like Bobby promised. 😭) because we've all seen that he has become a much softer version of himself ever since Bobby helped him out and ever since he died. (I know I know... Gerrard redemption is something we didn't want or need 🙄, but we are here now, so... let's roll with it.)

In the mean time Buck and Ravi are stuck underground somewhere with nothing to do but talk and hope they'll get rescued. Now, Ravi was always there in 8x11 and 8x16 when Buck was either talking about Eddie or just being around Eddie. So there is the possibility that Ravi already figured out how Buck feels about Eddie and he'll ask the question again: Are you in love with Eddie?

And Buck? He might just think that he doesn't want to leave the world with anything left unsaid, like he never got to tell Bobby that he loved him. So this time his answer will be different and he'll just blurt it out: 'yes, I do.'

It would give us a reason why Ravi was the one who was always there when Eddie popped up in Buck's narrative. So as you can see Nonny, our opinion here is very different from yours.

It's up to you what you want to believe of course. We are only speculating as well and there is always the possibility that we are wrong. But for us? Right now? This is a very likely scenario. 🤷‍♀️

[rexhya]

The Mystical Islands | beach gazing — ✦ ✦

synop — a marine biologist takes a solo trip to faraway islands aquire knowledge on endangered species and what can be done to help them! finding two mythical creatures wasn't exactly on your list of things but you'd never turn a blind eye to a creature in need.

warn — mini series! female reader, merman!suguru, merman!satoru, i ave no idea what real marine biologists do

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

7 AM, it was your third day and a great day on the Mystical Islands. Despite being almost 3,000 miles away from home you were feeling pretty confident about your research. You had already found a great deal of information about the wildlife in the ocean and the locals helped you as well.

It was around 12 PM when hou have first saw something that shouldnt exist. You hummed lightly, typing away at your laptop and enjoying the beach breeze. Your cabin was being rented for all of the three months you'd be staying here and you were glad to have such a nice spot near the beach.

"Suguru look, she's looking this way now. Do you think she can see us?"

"She'd better not or we might be in trouble, theres no telling what a human could do."

"Look it's fine, she went back to typing."

"You sound disappointed."

"I liked it when she was looking at us, i've never seen an eye color like that before..."

The other merman sighed at his partner, flipping his tail impatiently on the rocks. It had been like this for over three days, Satoru insisting he watch this human he found and Suguru being dragged alongside. He'd always been interested in humans but never this intense curiosity was getting dangerous.

There was no garuntee the moment you saw one of them you wouldn't try to hurt and harvest them. (like in the stories he'd heard so much about ) Of course the second you intentions were revealed Suguru would rip you apart and drag your body so far in the ocean nobody would be able to find you.

Satoru didn't budge, he continued staring at your body, giddy for every stretch, and pull of muscle you made after tapping the box that sat in front of you.

"Okay, time to go. We've been here too long, someone may have spotted us by now."

Satoru pouted but graciously relented. "Fine, but tomorrow I wanna get closer."

Suguru scowled, "Any closer and you might loose a fin. We can watch from here, that's final, now lets go."

Satoru couldn't belive it, did Suguru somehow think he was the boss of bim? "Fuck off, I am getting closer and thats final." He could kiss his merman ass.

Thinking back on it now, they probably shouldn't have started a fight on the beach of where a human lived, that's their fault.

"Uhm, are you two okay?" a feminine voice called from behind them. They snapped their heads to where ut came from.

You, more beautiful up close were peering at the two mermans rolling around covered in sand with an almost empty look on your face. You didn't seem to care they were lacking the most essential things a human should have, that being legs and feet.

Satoru was the first to speak, pushing Suguru off him and quickly righting him self into a sitting position, ( which Suguru would have said looked very slutty if he could speak properly ) and replying back.

"Of course we are, are you? I saw you looked quite stresses over there, anything bothering you?"

You sighed and nodded, seemingly reminded of your previous dilemma. "Oh yeah, it's getting so hard make any good progress around here, the seas been so quiet."

"Progress? On what?" Satoru's tail flapped excitedly agaisnt the sand, you were so friendly and man that eye color sure was unique.

Sugur watched as the two of you made conversation, his jaw permanently glued to the floor, did you not see the huge flapping tails they both had or did you simply not care. Or maybe you were one of thoes humans whos screws didn't falls perfectly into place, either eay they needed to take this opportunity and get out of here.

"Wow, your teeth look so sharp." You were talking to him now and he snapped his mouth closed embarrassed.

"Yeah they have to be sharp so we can chew through humans like you." Suguru was being mean he'd admit you hadnt done anything to them but he and Satoru seriously need to get out of here.

"Really! That's fascinating, do you eat all parts of a human just some. Does our meat taste good? I've always wondered."

Satoru cackled as Suguru's jaw fell back open. You couldn't be serious.

They would soon find out, you were complaining serious.

"W-we, We don't eat humans." Suguru choked out.

You pouted, "Oh, well they what do you eat? I can't be anything tougher than a seal I'm sure?"

He was starstruck, not only did you guess right but you were completely unconcerned about their still flipping tails.

"Hey you know were mermans right?" Suguru blurted, stopping the cackling Satoru.

Your eyes comically slid from their faces to their tails. "Well, yes I guessed that pretty quickly. What do yiu take me for huh?"

And now you were offended he undermined your knowledge? What was happening right now? This felt like a dream.

Satoru resumed laughing, this time even harder.

You were completely serious.

note — hope you enjoyed part one to this lil series!

[hell-drabbles]

Ra-on 6

Summary: "It's pretty nice, just you and me," you took a long drink of your cup before stomping onto Ra-on's naked back, forcing his face into his bowl, "and our misbehaving dog."

(More of my Ra-on because he's always fun to bully. And also I was in the mood to dig a little bit into the weirdness that is him. This one is another kinda got away from me. Over 1500 words. Enjoy!!)

Ra-on wasn't sure when the sun had risen, or when he had dozed off against the leg of the table he's under, but light pricked at his eyes and made them water. The right side of his face was numb, and he can feel his skin attempting to right itself after spending who knows how many hours sleeping against wood.

He was awake, he was uncomfortable, and he was still stuck here. The chain connecting to his maroon collar clinked as Ra-on lowered his head and tightened Minhyeok's blanket tighter around his body. He was still naked after all, still sitting on the floor because he didn't deserve a bed, let alone a seat or a cushion.

Or clothes. You banned him from wearing any, and no matter how much Minhyeok tried to get him to wear something, Ra-on would refuse. He deserves this, after all. And…

…and this was the most attention you've given him. Perhaps, if he's good enough, if he grovels and is patient enough, you'll forgive him. Or maybe you won't, and he'll be your naughty little dog for the rest of time. Either way, you would hold the leash and that's better than anyone else having it.

With the morning sun fully settled into the sky, the second floor became alive with footsteps and muffled conversations. You and Minhyeok share a bathroom as you both went about your morning routines. Passing the time just chatting about future schedules, drama at work or class, or even just reminiscing about old memories.

Maybe you're talking about the good old days, back when all of you were younger and eager to explore the world. Back when Ra-on parents were alive.

…back when the simple sight of you leaning against a tree in autumn, enjoying the breeze didn't have him salivating at the thought of licking all your sweat clean.

Ra-on felt the haze of sleepiness attempt to crawl over him, but then he felt a gentle tug on the blanket. Turning, Ra-on was met with Minhyeok, crouching down to meet his height, with an apologetic smile to his face.

Ra-on didn't fight it. He let the blanket flop to the floor. Minhyeok rolled it up in his arms. Ra-on hugged himself, curling as tightly as he could to force the cold air away. As uncomfortable as it was, it was a good thing. It forced blood away from his crotch.

Though, Ra-on doubts that will stay calm for long.

"Sorry about this." Lately, this was all Minhyeok said to him each and every morning. Before, he would offer to…negotiate with you, to get him to at least wear underwear but Ra-on refused. Shut it down as quickly as he could, because if you see that he's getting special treatment again, then you'll probably…

…you'll probably strip him too, and chain him to the other leg on the dining table. Treat him the same way you treat him. His muscles would probably ripple beneath his shivering skin, and knowing Minhyeok, he'd probably be a good little doggie. You'd pet him, you'd give him treats and teach him commands and--

Minhyeok is so very malleable. He'd probably become your favorite in no time.

So Ra-on turned his head away, so Minhyeok doesn't get the impression he's open to any kind of conversation. Minhyeok left to the kitchen. Before long, the smell of breakfast entered Ra-on nose, and it was only then did he realize how hungry he was.

His hunger froze in place when Ra-on looked down and spotted your shoes. Your dress shoes, polished to a beautiful shine. His nails sank into the flesh of his knees and he forced his eyes away, lest you see the blood already climbing over his face. When it began to travel down, Ra-on pressed his hands against it to keep anything from rising.

You pulled your chair back with a yawn, your feet lightly brushing against his outer thigh and Ra-on's entire body shivered, his tongue twitching with the urge to get that one speck of dirt off your shoe. You dropped your weight on your chair with a heavy sigh, reached out somewhere before tossing a dark red dog bowl right besides him.

It had his name printed on it, and Ra-on's thighs clenched.

Minhyeok returned with plates of food, a slightly strained smile on his face as he placed breakfast on the table. The intensity of the smell had Ra-on's stomach growling. So much so that he was tempted to strain his neck just to see what was on it.

But he had to keep still, keep the chain from making too many noises because, right now, you were talking. And a good dog doesn't interrupt his master.

"You really cooked a lot huh?" Metal clicked against wood, and liquid sloshed in glass. "Any special occasion? Or were you in a good mood?" There was a careful, dangerous weight to your tone, ready to lash out and to claim.

To claim Minhyeok, while Ra-on was still on the floor, chained to the table right next to you.

"Nothing special, just got a little inspired, is all," said Minhyeok, a little too quickly. "You're going to a party later, right? It kind of made me miss the old days, when we had parties of our own. Our weird parties."

"Hmm, getting a little nostalgic on me, huh?" Your teeth clicked against your fork and Ra-on was struck with the image of you biting and ripping his ear off.

"I can't help it, it's been a while since we last had breakfast like this." Minhyeok's voice sounded lighter now, more relaxed. From the other side of the table, Minhyeok's legs shuffled a bit, letting his thighs spread. His pants were always just so…so enticingly tight.

"Yeah, it's pretty nice, just you and me," you took a long drink of your cup before stomping onto Ra-on's naked back, forcing his face into his bowl, "and our misbehaving dog."

Luckily there was nothing in the bowl, but Ra-on choked on his own spit anyway. He coughed and wanted to push himself up, but you further dug your heel into his spine.

Ra-on was just looking. He was just looking!

"Maybe we should take him to the vet, see if we can finally get him snipped?" You lifted your weight only to slam it down between the base of his spine. "Stop struggling and stay down. I tell you to keep your eyes down and you can't even follow that."

Minhyeok rose to his feet. "Come on, I really don't think you shoul--"

Ra-on whined. It was loud, pathetic and reedy, but it got your attention. The tip of your shoe traced the dimples above his ass. He twitched and raised his hips just to get his pulsing self off the floor. Already he was making a clear puddle. He'll have to clean it up with his tongue later.

"Least you know you're not allowed to say words." You took your foot off and already his body was missing you. "Ah, right, I need to feed you. Did you finish eating Minhyeok?"

"…I don't think I can eat anymore." Minhyeok bowed his head.

"Well, put it on the floor." Your fork appeared and tapped against the leg Ra-on was tied to. "Right here, so our stupid dog doesn't miss it."

Ra-on can tell he was reluctant, but Minhyeok did as you said anyway. He set down a plentiful plate, barely picked at. "Can you please stop calling Ra-on our--"

"Seems I could use a second dog, to keep this one company." You slide the plate until it touched his knees. "You wanna be with him that much? Then start barking, Minhyeok."

"…I--"

"Strip, kneel, and start barking."

…slowly, Ra-on crawled on all fours, past the food and out from under the table. He balanced himself on balls of his feet, lifted his hands as an upright dog would, and began to bark. He was flushed fully red, entirely erect for you and Minhyeok to see, but Ra-on continued barking anyway. And when he felt it was enough, he began panting as a happy dog would.

There was no affection in your eyes, but you began to laugh and it was enough to get his blood singing in ecstasy. Finally, you were focusing on him.

"Not you, you dumb mutt." You waved him away as you turned back to your food. "Get to eating."

Ra-on lowered himself down to the plate. Before he could get anything in his mouth, however…

…Ra-on woke up, back in his bed, with sheets that have been recently cleaned by Minhyeok, in clothes that were clean but now were drench in sweat…and semen.

A dream. All of it, a dream. Of course. Because you wouldn't do that to him. You wouldn't strip him away of all his humanity and make him your pet.

No, you simply ignored him. After finding out that every single outing he agreed to was just an excuse to take more pictures to jack off to, you ignored him.

He broke your trust. He deserves this. He couldn't even go a few hours outside without needing to sneak off and take care of himself with his newest photos. Photos that were just normal. But even normal had him hungry.

…Ra-on stuffed a pillow between his legs and pulled out his phone. He won't be sleeping tonight.

[townheld]

he didn't even think twice about fusing sign language into the conversation. in ithuriel's mind, it wasn't something that they should've been thanked for. so they simply nodded when the reaper made note of it and offered up a small smile. there was a reason why he had access to so many languages. it was to be able to use them in conversations like these, to be able to better communicate with someone. if he could make it easier for someone, then why wouldn't he? they were always under the mentality that their powers weren't the only gifts they possessed. communication was another.

people that were around for centuries always had interesting takes when it came to life and time. the angel thought it had something to do with who they were too. for a phoenix, he assumed that time could pass by quickly. mainly because they were constantly reincarnated. for the reaper, it didn't seem to go by slowly either. for ithuriel? it was something in between. two hundred years ago felt just like yesterday. yet he also felt like he was much older than what he really was. “have you ever written down journals? i once met this demon that had a different journal for each century they were alive. that way they got to pinpoint it down to the century at least.” although everyone was valued with how they processed it. “time in portum is different though. for me it's a push and pull. here things slow down for me, but up in heaven it's like i'm watching five years pass in five seconds.” 

they picked up the rosary and shoved it into their pocket. then, they also took their mug with them and joined heng in their booth. ithuriel comfortably sat down across from them to continue the conversation, happy that hey were now closer. “i feel the same way in an odd sense. if i loss my divinity in this process, then what is setting me apart from a human?” brows perked up as he thought about the question to himself. “the static of the radio that never seems to get any louder or closer, but you always hear it. we're going to have to start walking around with tags that says what species we are.” they couldn't help but chuckle at the idea. “the farthest i've went this week is some place in egypt. now i'm back though.” he smiled softly at the introduction. “nice to meet you. my name is ithuriel,” then he signed the word for spear. “my vessel's name is orion.” for that one, he didn't have a special sign for just yet.

The reaper wouldn’t say they were surprised by the addition of the sign language to the conversation, but they were heavily thankful. As someone who had always had trouble with intimacy, spending too much time staring at another person would often make Zhang Heng extremely uncomfortable, that’s why they hardly ever stepped out of the house (or–wherever they were, really) without their hearing aids. Their lack of hearing was something immortality hadn’t been able to fix, and maybe, deep down, they didn’t want that to be fixed. A part of their humanity still lingering with them. A sign that they had roamed this earth as a mortal being, capable of falling ill and of dying.

“Thank you.” The reaper signed, in thanks for the kindness of the angel to use sign language to communicate with them. And then, as Ithuriel asked his question, Heng noticed their brows had furrowed a little, deep in thought about the answer. “No, I do not think it moves slowly.” They replied, finally. “Time has become an abstract notion for me, I think. Five hundred years seemed closer than five weeks, sometimes. Memories get blurred into one another, at times. Meditating helps me sort them out.” Not that they spent that much time meditating, but living in a quiet world sometimes also helped sorting out memories. “I think the world is changing fast around us. If anything, time is moving faster than before.” Once they were done, Heng wiped the sweat off their glass and signed the question to the angel. “How is it like to you?”

It occurred to them that they had been in the middle of Rosie’s diner, chatting from two separate tables, so, between their question and Ithuriel’s next comment, Heng signed for the angel to join them at their table. That way, it would give other patrons a table to seat in case the place got packed. “Yes. Their humanity is–unsettling to say the least. I think that is why my child is having trouble with his powers, too.” They shared. “If a ghost’s soul is not there, the silence is awful. It feels like a buzzing sound that never goes away. And you can’t find out where it’s coming from, but it’s there.” Usually the quiet one, Zhang Heng realized they’d been sharing too much, and, if they were actually using words, their throat would probably be dry by now. “Have you been wandering far from Portum? Pardon–I do not believe we have met. I’m Heng. Heng Zhang. My name sign is–” They used the sign for eternity, which, was similar to what their name had meant. Heng. Eternal.

[cigarette-room]

(pretty long thread rip)

I should be studying for tomorrow but instead I am restless and overthinking and thinking to myself about how there is so much wrong in approaching love from the perspective of trying to be liked and trying to be loved and trying to be good and trying to stick people to yourself with duct tape made of gifts and nice jokes and sweet words because well, it's not only tiring but they will leave in the end anyway, and loving and being loved is supposed to be rest and peace and a sound mind and the more you try the less you achieve any of that! Except I'm my mother's and father's child so I still do it anyway and hang around and try again and cling until it's dead because otherwise it all really hurts but it hurts anyway so

Just dgaf. And if you do then pretend you don't until you convince yourself and restrain your hands so they can't reach out to anyone once they turn their back on you and just. Let people live with their own decisions. I want so hard to be loved that I am making myself disposable like a used rag and for what? It's all gonna be good one day with or without anyone else

[trusweethrt]

— ୨ৎ sleepover with secret bf!rafe

authors note: i got a request for this a few weeks ago but the ask deleted itself so I'm so sorry to whoever sent that! and i'm trying to get out of my writers block so enjoy...whatever this is. (not sure how I feel about this) not proofread!! content warnings: contains smut, 18+

“come over? just for a little bit?” rafe asked as he looked at you through the facetime camera. it's been a rough day for him and you were really the only person he wanted to see right now. but it was past midnight and you weren't supposed to be out of the house around this time, let alone going to his house.

you've been told by your parents to stay away from him—countless times, actually. rafe knew he had some...things to work on, but in his mind, he wasn't that bad. at least towards you. “dunno rafe...'m already in trouble for skipping school yesterday.” you frown, tapping your manicured finger on the side of your phone. rafe sighed, sitting up against his headboard “please? it'll be quick. i'll sneak ya in and out.”

you were hesitating and that's something rafe could see clearly, but he was desperate. you were one of the only people he actually cared about these days and he didn't want to be alone right now, especially not at night.

“please..? you're the only person i want to see right now.” he pleaded, almost begging in a way. he was never one to beg, but it was the only thing he could think of that could convince you to come.

you thought it over as you bit the inside of your cheek. you knew how it would end if your parents found out you snuck out of your house. “isn't sarah home though?” rafe was silent for a moment, his hand running through his hair “no...she's out. won't be home 'til morning” he murmured. that was one less obstacle so it was one good thing. but you still weren't sure. rafe was your boyfriend and you cared about him, but sneaking out wasn't the best idea right now. “but my parents said-”

“i know sweetheart and i'm not tryna get you in trouble, but i swear it'll be like thirty minutes.” he cut you off, his tone almost desperate. you bit your lip as you leaned back against your headboard. “rafe...” you trailed off with a sigh. you weren't saying no right away, but you weren't saying yes either. it was clear you were conflicted as you hesitated before adding, “okay, fine. but just for thirty minutes. not a second longer.”

rafe's face lit up as he heard you agree. he knew he could be convincing if he wanted to and he was so glad it worked this time. “thank you baby, be outside waiting. i'll come get you.” with that, he ended the facetime, standing from his bed as he grabbed a jacket and his keys. it didn't take long for you to change into some shorts and a hoodie and put your shoes on. you carefully crept out of your room and out into the livingroom, pausing to listen for any noises. once you were sure your parents were asleep, you opened up the front door and slipped outside, shutting the door quietly behind you. by the time you were out of your house, rafe was already parked outside.

rafe was leaning against the door of his car as he waited for you. he heard the door open and shut, looking up and seeing you walking towards him. he could see you were nervous, but it didn't stop him from pulling you into a tight hug. “hey,” he greeted, his voice tired but he felt better with you in his arms. you returned his hug, leaning into the embrace. “hey...” you murmured back, your tone almost equally as tired. you could feel the exhaustion in him as he hugged you and you felt the need to ask, “you okay?”

rafe let out a sigh against your shoulder, giving you a light squeeze before leaning back “not really...” he mumbled, releasing his hold on you reluctantly. he opened the passenger side door for you, waiting until you got in before shutting the door and walking around to get into the driver's side.

you got into his car, leaning back in the seat as you looked over him. you could tell something was bothering him by the look on his face and his tone of voice. it's been a long time since he sounded that exhausted. “...rough day?”

rafe ran a hand over his face, looking over to you wearily “rough life.” he mumbled, starting up the car as he pulled out from the curb. “seatbelt.” you hummed quietly as you reached out to grab the seatbelt, buckling yourself in. you decided not to ask more about what exactly was bothering him; in time, he'd probably talk about it.

the car ride was silent as rafe drove back to his house. you didn't mind though, figuring that he needed the silence in order to calm his head for a bit. a few moments passed before he parked in his driveway, unlocking the doors and getting out. he came around the side and opened your door for you, offering his hand to help you out of the car.

you slipped your hand into his, letting him help you out of the car. walking through his yard, he quietly unlocked his front door and let you in first. “wheezie's home so we're gonna have to be quiet” he said as he shut the door behind him, locking it again.

you followed him inside “gotcha” you whispered as you looked around. “is she awake? i don't wanna be the reason she doesn't sleep.”

“she's asleep.” he mumbled, nodding towards the stairwell. “come on..” he took your hand again, quietly leading you upstairs to his bedroom. once inside, he closed the door and locked it before turning on his bedside lamp and walking over to his bed.

you followed him to his bed, crawling onto it and moving to lay back against the pillows. you could still see the exhaustion in his body as he laid down next to you, his head resting against your shoulder as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “wanna talk about anything...?” rafe was silent for a moment, almost as if he was thinking about your question. he really didn't wanna talk about anything at all. all he wanted was to lay here with you, which he thought to himself as he shook his head. “nah”

you nodded once he answered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you closed your eyes. you could tell he didn't want to talk and you were okay with that. you both laid there in comfortable silence, no sounds besides the sound of your breathing and the occasional passing of a car outside. “can i do anything to help?”

it felt good to lay here with you. it was the only real peace he's felt in weeks and it helped calm him a little. when you spoke again, he lifted his head to look at you, his tired eyes meeting yours.

he moved a bit closer to you, his arm around your waist tightening as his head rested on your chest. “this is more than enough for me, sweetheart” he murmured, his fingers brushing against your side. “i do have a request though”

you looked down at him, your fingers lightly running through his hair as you waited for him to speak. you could tell he was still thinking about something and you waited patiently before finally speaking, “what is it?” rafe's eyes closed as your fingers ran through his hair. he loved when you did that and it relaxed him greatly

he was still silent for a few more moments before finally speaking. “i need to relieve some stress.” he murmured, his fingers gently brushing against your waist once more before suddenly resting right above the drawstring of your shorts.

────୨ৎ────

“a-ah shit, rafe” your hands clench by your sides as rafe glides his tip between your drenched folds, looking down at you with this tongue between his teeth. “mmh...this wet already, darling? barely even touched ya yet.” rafe hummed, smirking down at you. all you can do is nod and let out a whimper as he tapped his cock against your cunt. “nuh-uh, words. none of that whimpering shit”

you were already a stuttering, whimpering mess as he ran his fingers over your clit. you needed more from him, wanted to feel more of him, but you knew that he wasn't going to give that to you until you answered.

you let out a shaky breath as you looked up at him, eyes wide. “yes!” you quickly whimpered, “been thinking about it all night. please, please rafe...” you whimpered, your hips bucking up in an attempt to get more from him. “i know baby, i know” rafe murmured, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he teased your clit with his thumb again “been so long since you've had this cock, yeah?”

you nodded rapidly, eyes pleading him to do something, anything. you wanted him so badly and you could tell he was just teasing, which was driving you absolutely insane. “rafe..." you murmured, your voice trembling a little. rafe chuckled softly, shaking his head “come on. don't get all shy with me now. tell me what you want” he said with a smirk, his fingers still moving over your clit, barely applying pressure. he could feel you shaking beneath him, which encouraged him to tease you a little more. “tsk tsk i want an answer. i know you know how to talk, baby. i just wanna hear your pretty little voice say it.”

you swallowed hard as you looked up at him from under your lashes; he looked so damn proud of himself. you were almost positive he got off on teasing you like this, and the last thing you wanted to do was give him that satisfaction. but your patience was wearing thin and you were getting desperate. you just wanted him to touch you already, but he was always so stubborn. you ran your tongue over your bottom lip as you met his gaze again, your voice shaking a little as you finally spoke up, “n-need you rafe…please...”

“mmh, that's my good girl. i knew you could do it baby.” rafe murmured, finally pushing his cock into your aching hole, causing both of you to let out simultaneous moans. “a-ah fuck” you gasp, gripping onto his biceps as he pushes all the way in, making you groan at the feeling, his cock slowly slipping all the way down, filling you to the hilt, “so fuckin' tight” he groans under his breath at the feeling of your narrow pussy engulfing his member.

you whimper as he remains motionless, denying you the much needed friction. “mmh what do we say after i give you something, baby?”

you could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he murmured the question into your ear. he knew what he was doing. he knew exactly how to get you to say what he wanted you to say, knowing how well he filled you up and how he wasn't moving. you moaned quietly, hands moving to grip onto his back as you looked up at him with watery eyes, “thank you.”

rafe hummed and nodded against your neck, lightly kissing just under your ear as he lifted his head, “good girl.” he said “you're welcome, my love. anytime.”

he finally pulled his hips back a little, thrusting back into you “you feel so damn good, baby.” he breathed before beginning to thrust into you harder, repeatedly hitting your cervix deliciously “been too long without having you.” he murmured, his hand gripping onto the back of your thigh, lifting your leg up over his shoulder. the change of position caused his cock to slide even deeper, making you gasp.

you whimpered at the feeling of him hitting your sweet spot, unable to speak clearly “oh...oh g-god rafe” you tried, your eyes already shut as you tried to move your hips in time with his. he could feel your nails digging into his shoulders, leaving red indents. “look at me.” he murmured in your ear, his hand reaching down to grab your chin, turning your face towards his “look at me while i'm fucking you, sweetheart. ” your mind goes a little blank for a moment when he says that, only able to focus on the feeling of him inside you. it takes a few seconds before you manage to open your eyes again, meeting his gaze. rafe's eyes are focused on you, a small smirk on his lips as he sees you staring “there you are.” he hums, biting down on his lip once he feels you start to clench around him “shit, you gonna cum already?”

“yeah...mmh, so close ray.” you moan, struggling to keep your eyes on him as his hand reaches to press his thumb against your clit, rubbing tight circles. “so fast, sweetheart?” rafe murmured with a smirk “been that long, huh? gonna make a mess all over my cock already?” you don't even have time to respond before your orgasm hits you hard, your body shaking as the coil in your stomach snapped. eyes squeezed shut, walls clenching around his twitching shaft. the way your pussy cinched around him is all rafe needed to go over the edge, spilling his seed deep inside you.

“mmh ray?” you murmur, looking up at him with your glossy eyes. “hm?”

“think 'm gonna stay here tonight.”

taglist: @bunbun-3 @drewscoquette @untitled10351 @rafesweetie @meetmebehindthemallrafe @supercutelovergirl

© anqelrafe

[gojoest]

curiosity (part 2) — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns, childhood best friends to lovers, college, no curse au, once again mention of ex gfs (one of them makes a brief appearance), pining, reader wears boy shorts, reader is a virgin (no virginity loss), so is satoru lol, mutual masturbation (handjobs + fingering), he cums on your belly (accidentally), pussyjob, first kiss, kind of proofread (sry if tenses are messed up), wc: 5.3k, dividers by @/cafekitsune 

this takes place the morning after the handjob you gave satoru and is basically a long ramble about two childhood best friends exploring each other’s bodies (nowhere near in moderation) but finding it difficult to redefine their bond. 

part 1

a/n: i didn’t think i would get around to writing a continuation but here we are... i fear there will be a part 3 as well in the future :’) i hope you enjoy! <3 

Last night Satoru and you slept together, in one bed, for the first time in years. 

Sure, it wasn’t just sleeping like you initially (and very confidently) suggested. Curiosity got the better of you after he, although not intentionally, showed you a side to him you had never seen before. And so, you got a bit handsy. 

Satoru stopped sharing a bed with you during sleepovers sometime early into high school. ‘You always hog the blanket’, ‘You toss and turn a lot’, ‘You breathe too loud’, ‘It’s too hot’... — is what he would say, and you didn’t think much of it. Shrugging it off as him being a rude idiot, trying to make you look bad. 

There was no way he’d actually tell you that he had started popping frequent boners around you, courtesy of puberty along with these unrequited feelings he started harboring for you the day you moved into his neighborhood at the age of four. 

It was embarrassing. He couldn’t possibly come clean to you — you were best friends. What if you came to hate him? What if you started avoiding him? 

He spent his high school years trying to get over you. He started dating around. But he never felt the same way with any of the other girls, a clear sign of which was his actions and the lack of dedication toward them. He’d often forget about promised dates or picking them up after school to walk home together because he was too busy following you around. Helplessly. Hopelessly. He couldn’t just leave you on your own even for a second, the thought of seeing another dude hanging around you would scare the shit out of him. Trying to let go yet strongly clinging to you. You didn’t need to like him back as long as you didn’t like anyone else either. Just stay by his side. 

And now, college isn’t any different. 

Well, it wasn’t. Until last night. 

Satoru couldn’t sleep after what happened while you dozed off quickly, as if the events that took place were nothing out of the ordinary. You seemed oddly comfortable which, truth be told, rose concern in him. 

He had a lot of questions. 

Do you like him? Weren’t you supposed to be at least a bit nervous if you did? Or were you simply so curious about these stuff that anyone would’ve been fine, it just happened to be him? He’s glad it was him. But what will happen with you two now? Will things be awkward? Can you go back to how you used to be? What is he supposed to say to you once you open your eyes? Will you start avoiding him? Should he pretend like nothing happened? 

“Shit, I fucked up”, he whispers, thumbing his forehead like he’s trying to get rid of a headache that isn’t even there. 

Please don’t avoid me, he thinks as his gaze shifts to you, still sleeping soundly. 

You were drooling on the pillow in your sleep. Your hair was a mess and your eyes were crusty, the dried residue sitting in the inner corners of them. The entire blanket was on your side too, covering only you while he was out in the open, his feet cold.  

What’s so good about you anyway?, he thought for a good minute. A soft smile creeping in on his lips. He couldn’t come up with a single thing that wasn't. 

“Mff...”, you let out a drowsy yawn and your eyes flutter open. Rolling on your back, you stretch your arms up and turn your head to look at Satoru. “Mowniiin’ ”, you drag out through another yawn. 

Satoru’s heartrate picks up. Here comes the moment he’s been dreading — facing the consequences. “Hey”, he greets back, a little bit dull in order to mask his nervousness as he acts out in his head all the different possibilities and the plausible end of your friendship. 

“You don’t have a boner again, do you?”, you ask bluntly, unaware of the sweat and blood he’d been shedding in an internal battle up until now, filled with fear that today might be the day he loses it all. 

“Really now?”, he gives you a look. Your crudeness is astounding him but in a way it also lessens the worry in his chest. “You’re really going to ask me that?” 

“...do you?”, you turn on your side again, a glint of amusement in your expression. 

“You know I am. Don’t you see it yourself?”, he clicks his tongue. 

You snicker to yourself. Of course you do. After all, the blanket was wrapped around you only while he laid exposed next to you with no layer to cover the bulge in his shorts. 

“Morning wood?”, you look at it. “Or is it because of me again?” 

“Stop assuming things, it’s morning wood”, he states point-blank. “It’s always like this when I wake up”, which was a lie. It didn’t always happen, or at least it wasn’t this insistent. 

“Hmm”, you nod. “Maybe you’re not cumming enough?” 

“That’s not how it works”, he sighs. “And this is definitely not something I’ve ever expected to hear from you” 

“Hmm”, you nod again. Peeking at him mischievously. “Can I—” 

“No.” 

“But—” 

“Cut it out, will you? What’s gotten into you ever since last night? Asking to touch me and what not?”, he snaps, frustrated.  

“But you let me” 

“Men can’t say no to that when they’re about to bust”, he lies, kind of. “But what the hell is wrong with you?” He thinks it’s so unfair to test him like this when he’s the only one with feelings. It is quite cruel of you. 

“I don’t know”, you shrug, a guilty pout on your mouth. Satoru never raises his voice at you unless something is really bugging him. “I’m not sure myself, but I liked it, what happened last night... I enjoyed it”, you quietly admit. 

“You did?”, his voice goes back to normal, but this time it’s his eyes that snap wide. A slight sense of hope creeps in inside his heart now. Maybe this little slip-up could kick start something, he starts to think. 

You nod. “Didn’t you like it too?” 

“...I did”, his face heats up and he covers it with a hand. The essence of the conversation and the fact you liked touching him made his cock even harder. It wasn’t just a simple morning wood at this point. 

“I want to do it again”, you tell him. “But do you?” 

“You ask me stuff like this when I am horny and expect me to turn you down?” He slowly slides his hand down his face, stopping it right over his mouth and cupping it into his palm. “Are you sure?”, his voice muffled. 

You shake your head affirmatively, with zero hesitation. “Can you touch me too? I got really wet last night while jerking you off... Your struggling face and the sounds you made were really...sexy. I wanted to cum too”, a tint of embarrassment in your tone now that you were saying this out loud. 

Your abrupt and not at all anticipated confession had Satoru almost chocking on his own saliva. Due to shock, it went down the wrong pipe when swallowing, leading him to cough profusely. “I am starting to think that you’re plotting to kill me one of these days” 

“It’s because you told me to come to you if I ever get curious about other things” 

“I clearly did not mean murder” 

You chuckle, and slowly peel the covers off you, throwing them out of the way and kicking them behind you. The shirt you’re wearing rolled up, exposing the boy shorts on your lower half and a damp spot visibly staining them on the front. 

“You're wet", Satoru points out, surprise and smugness mixed in his expression.  

“I thought you didn’t like to state the obvious”, you huff, rushing to fix yourself, but he reaches for your hand and stops you in your tracks.  

“Is it because of me?”, he looks at you with a glint of hope, giving you a taste of your own medicine, while guiding your touch toward his crotch. His other hand pulling his shorts and boxers down, just enough to take his cock out and press your hand on it — feeling less awkward and a little bit more confident about this now that he sees clear indications of your arousal. 

Sure, you touched him last night, but you didn’t see him... It all happened under the covers, so this was a first. He was big, both lengthy and girthy. Veiny too. Precum slicked the tip of his cock. The head was pink while the rest — a lighter shade but still a bit darker than his complexion. You didn’t think of it as pretty, yet it was stirring weird, unknown emotions and desires in you. 

“...yeah, ‘cause of you... I think”, you bury your face in the pillow, shying away, but at the same time you shamelessly wrap your hand around his length, giving it a slow first stroke, causing his breath to rasp in his chest. The needy little pant he let out the second you made contact with him urged you to rub your thighs together, the tension in your lower half growing heavier. 

Now with your roles somehow reversed, you realize how embarrassed he must’ve been last night... 

“Can I?”, he swallows nervously. His hand, slightly shaking, held out in front of your clothed pussy, waiting for your verbal permission before he goes any further.  

“Go ahead, I was the one who asked in the first place”, you reassure. 

Just like he did for you, you help your shorts down for him and place his hand between your folds. “But—”, you pause, timidly flinching at the foreign touch. “Don’t push your fingers very deep, I— well, you know...” 

He smiles. “I know, don’t worry”  

He was aware that you never had your first time. Neither did he, which you would probably never guess. 

Despite his rich and lengthy dating history, Satoru never went that far with any of his girlfriends. Not that the opportunity was never present — he had the looks and he had the charm so naturally they would throw themselves at him quite often. But he simply never desired them enough to even pop a boner. Well, sure it happened a few times here and there and only because some of them resembled you way too much. 

At the end of the day, his dick and his mind were oddly connected. And his mind, it was still stuck on you. Perhaps, deep down, he always hoped that one day you’d be his first. 

Just like last night, you were laid on your sides again, but this time both of you had your hands in each other’s pants. Your faces so close you were touching foreheads and breathing into your mouths. Not kissing, just breathing and exchanging pants and lewd moans as you worked your hands through the pleasure of the other, reveling in the sounds you each made.  

"Is this, um, okay... like this?”, he breathily asks, but what he truly means is ‘Am I doing this right?’, while he’s got his thumb on your clit, rubbing it in circles, and two of his fingers — index and middle — carefully gliding over your inner lips. 

You hum, biting your lip in an attempt to swallow the obscenity threatening to roll out of your tongue. Your mind was slowly going blank. “I-it f-feels real-ly g-good”, you manage through multiple pants. “Too g-good", you add, your grip letting loose around him, slowing down the strokes, the more he teased your folds. But, his free hand grabs yours, squeezing you back around him while he starts to buck his hips into your fist — a subtle reminder to maintain your ministrations, to not forget about him. 

You huff at his actions, but it’s only fair — you acknowledge.  

He must have quite the experience, you think. This thought a bit bothering you on itself, that he’s had his hand down other girls’ pants before, maybe his cock too, so he’s able to multitask like this... While this is a first for you. Unsure why, you feel like slapping him the more you think about it, picturing him with other girls makes you oddly jealous, but his fingers ease you back into pleasure. You’ll get mad at him later, you think. 

“Tell me if it hurts. Okay?”, he nuzzles his nose against yours — since both of his hands were busy now, this was the only way of asking you to look at him. 

He wanted to see your eyes and confirm for himself that you were indeed alright, that he was really doing this right because he’s never done it before, only seen it in porn. He was afraid that he’d get too distracted and hurt you unintentionally. You felt so good against his fingers that it was enough to make him lose control. All the wet dreams he’s had in the past can’t compare. He already had a lewd depiction of you in his mind that he used to jerk off to — about the way you’d look and feel down there, about the noises you’d make, about the ways your face would contort with fervor... But he realizes now that he was too frivolous and lacking in imagination. The real you beats it all. 

You look at him, your brows slightly lifted, lips closed but twitching in betrayal, threatening to let out the loud moan building in your throat. His fingers scarcely prodding in only weakening your resolve. 

“Let it out”, he speaks to you softly. “Don’t hold it back”, again with that sweet, sweet voice. 

"Shit, you’re so foul when you use that kind of voice”, you audibly gasp, and then let it all out.  

He chuckles. 

His pace quicker now, greedily trying to drag more moans out of you. His entire palm, squished between your legs, now covering your pussy, rubbing harder against your folds with his middle finger slightly curled so the tip of it darts inside you with every movement. Not too deep, just enough to not break your hymen. It was driving you insane and you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. You’re certain you have never been this loud in your entire life. And you really wanted to slap him again because you were the only mess right now, your urge going stronger after witnessing that cheeky expression on his face, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, too focused to make you cum — maybe he was paying you back for last night. 

But alas, you couldn’t do anything about it. You lost control, completely as he hit just the right places and brought you overwhelming, toe-curling pleasure. 

“Did it feel good?”, Satoru curiously peeks at you as you try to catch your breath. 

“Yes”, you heave. His hand was still there, fingers fumbling with your folds, hence why the tremors washing through your body took longer to quiet down. “Very”, you add. 

“Will you help me finish too?” 

You nod, fixing your loose grip around his cock but moving it in a quite relaxed manner, slowly. 

“Are you doing this on purpose?”, he huffs. 

“No. What’s the rush?” 

“We have classes” 

“We’re already late” 

You squeeze, your strokes now steadier — not faster, but heavier — as you drag your hand up and down, earning a gratifying groan out of him. “We can skip altogether”  

“And?”, he pants, with eyes half-lidded he looks at you. Are you going to suggest what he’s thinking about too? 

“We can stay like this for a bit” — you gather your pace. “Wash up” — accelerating it more after the pause. “Have breakfast” — and some more. “And do this all over again” — and... 

Satoru opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he moans low and throatily as his orgasm starts to build up. 

Was it the way you moved your hand or what you said that made him crumble so fast, he was not so sure. But it was quite the intense thing. He bucked his hips a little until every bit of drop was out, and he did so in a way that made you clench. The way he squeezed his eyes shut, nose scrunched up while he bit his lower lip, his hand gripping your waist to steady himself as he thrusted into your fist... It was way too of an arousing sight. 

He made a huge mess too. His cum sprayed all over your belly, uncontrollably. Your hand and fingers coated in it too. 

“Shit— I didn’t mean to”, he panics, jolting and rushing to grab some tissues from the nightstand, but you stop him. 

“It's okay”, you reassure him. “I think I like it”, you confess. “Next time you can cum on me intentionally” 

“There is really something wrong with your head, we should go get you checked out”, he mocks, but he hides his face in the pillow to conceal the smile stretching on his lips along with the already existing blush on his cheeks. Next time, huh?  

You stayed in for the day. Just as you suggested, you lingered in bed for a little longer, bickering back and forth, which put Satoru at ease. He was sick worried, but things were still the same between you two. Not quite as they used to be, considering last night and this morning, but you were still you. There was no tension, nor any awkwardness in the air. 

You washed up together over the bathroom sink, bumping hips as you brushed your teeth. 

He always kept a spare toothbrush for you for when you’d stay the night. He diligently changed it with a new one every now and then. Although you didn’t have any clothes over at his dorm room, he gave you his while complaining how thoughtless you were for not bringing spare clothing with you, only causing him more trouble with piling up more laundry. But he liked it, secretly. His t-shirts looked good on you, like you were his girlfriend. He didn’t have any clothes back at your room either, at first. There was no way yours would ever fit him, so he brought some and left them there. You always washed them with your clothes and they smelled like the detergent you’d always use. It made him feel like he was your boyfriend. 

Later, you had breakfast, and after that — another session of exploring your bodies. Again, you only used your hands. He sat you on the table and fingered you while you stroked his cock. 

You played some games, read manga, took a nap, ate lunch, and then you did it again. 

And again, after dinner. 

Then some more before you went to bed. 

You never kissed though, not yet. As if the kiss itself meant something entirely different in the light of what you were doing, something more intimate than masturbating each other. 

Day two and three were no different, you stayed locked in and repeated. You ate, you fucked each other with your hands, and you slept. 

Nothing changed on the fourth either, only that you ran out of food but ordered takeout. 

“Can you make it a bit spicy?”, Satoru spoke on the phone to a nearby restaurant he’d frequently order from. So frequently in fact that they knew his order by heart, and asking for the dish to be spicy was unusual of him.  

“Huh? You always make we don’t put any spice in your food? Are you sure?”, the takeout clerk gasped from the other side of the line. 

Scratching the back of his head, Satoru looked around to see if you were still in the bathroom before he spoke. “Yeah, I know. But, um— my girlfriend likes it”, he said, his face heating up with a red hue. 

You weren’t his girlfriend. Neither of you made an attempt to redefine your relationship, and he was too afraid to make the first step. What if you were simply acting out this way because you were indeed just curious?  

Either way, he wanted to say it. To say that you were his girlfriend. And it wasn’t the first time he’d done it. People would often time confuse you for a couple, and he’d never flat out deny it. You never knew about this though, it always happened behind your back. Either his friends being too nosy, or an old lady on the street telling him how good you looked together after you ran off to pet a stray cat. 

On the fifth day, some friends got a bit worried. You were gone for almost an entire week, skipping classes, so that was a given. 

suguru: wtf bro  suguru: u alive? 

satoru: yeah  satoru: more than ever 

suguru: huh 

satoru: i might have a shot with her  satoru: i'll tell u later 

suguru: with who? 

satoru: ur mom i've been pining over since i was four  satoru: be fr now  

suguru: wait  suguru: HER her??????????? 

satoru: yeah HER her 

suguru: wow it's happening? 

satoru: idk  satoru: ...kinda 

suguru: good luck bro  suguru: if you fuck it up i'll try my chance with her  suguru: so make sure u do ur best LOL 

satoru: i will beat u up and block u 

Naturally, it started to feel less awkward the more you did it. ‘Are you hard?’ or ‘Are you wet?’ being the initiating lines you were both dying to hear now, knowing well what they’d lead to. The answer was always ‘yes’, there was no denying that you were both hard and wet around each other for the most part. 

At some point you began skipping the questions, just letting your hands roam and find out. Consent was always silently present. 

Even when you weren’t being naughty with each other, it was different. You had definitely started seeing Satoru in a new light, which scared you a little bit. The way you looked at him, and the way you caught him looking at you — it wasn’t the same as it had been. There was more to it. 

On the sixth day, you tried something different.  

“My hands are tired”, you complain. 

“Let’s try something different”, Satoru proposes. 

He lies on his back, holding his cock flat against his stomach. “Hop on it” 

“What—”, your eyes pop out in shock. “I’m not ready for that, yet”, you squirm, holding your face in your palms. You were curious about intercourse, of course, but you were also scared. All the forums you scrolled through had a different take on it — some netizens said the first time was painful while others claimed they only felt a slight discomfort but nothing more. Many mentioned bleeding too. You didn’t know which category you’d fall into. And as much as you wanted it, the idea of putting Satoru’s cock inside you was quite intimidating. He was big. Will it even fit?  

Satoru chuckles. “I don’t mean that — just straddle me, sit yourself right on top of it and rock your hips back and forth” He points at his cock, “See, I am holding it down for you so it won’t enter you. You’ll just hump against the length of it and nothing more. It’ll feel good, I promise” 

You peek at him from between your fingers. “Okay”, you timidly agree. 

It was good, but short-lived. Unfortunately, you didn’t get to finish in this position because Satoru came too soon and too hard, his entire body shivering continuously. He had no idea what he was getting himself into when he proposed it but having your warmth and your slick on his cock directly from the source messed him up. It took him every ounce of restraint not to just slide it in and have his way with you. 

On the seventh day, after all the things you’d done, you finally shared your first kiss.  

It was nothing nearly romantic like it was in the books and in the movies. In fact, it kind of happened out of spite. 

It was around lunchtime. You both felt like eating pizza today, and so you ordered. In the meantime, while waiting for your food to be delivered, you hopped in the bathroom to take a quick shower. 

Satoru wanted to join you too, but you kicked him out, telling him to wait for the delivery guy. With a tail between his legs and a hangdog face he crawled back on the bed, huffing and puffing loudly so you could hear him and maybe pity him enough to invite him back... 

His brilliant performance of a sad puppy was interrupted by a knock on the door. This was quick, he thought, and jumped out of the bed, thrilled — he could pay for the food and sneak in to play with you... 

He quickly tossed on a shirt and put on some shorts on the way to get the door. 

It was not the food. 

It was his ex, standing on his doorstep with her arms crossed over her waist, eyeing him demandingly. 

“Don’t tell me you’re so heartbroken over our breakup that you would lock yourself in your room and skip classes for an entire week?”, she scoffs. 

“Did you forget who broke up with who?”, Satoru snorts. 

For sure, she did not. Satoru did it quite cruelly, over text after ghosting her for three days. It was not his proudest moment but he didn’t care enough to feel guilty over it.  

And she was fully aware of it too. But still, she liked him a lot, in fact she liked him ever since orientation and it took her an entire year to work her way to him. She was desperate. 

She sighs deeply, dropping the attitude now. “You never replied to my messages” 

“Didn’t see” 

“You did, but you left me on seen” 

“Must’ve forgotten to answer” 

His answers were short and dry. The timing was simply bad, and he wanted her out of here before you came out of the shower, concerned that her being here would create a misunderstanding in your head. 

“Look, I am sorry I said all those stuff about your friend. But it bothered me, okay? You treated her more like a girlfriend than you did me, your actual girlfriend... I was constantly under the impression that—”, before she could finish a third voice cut her off. 

“’Toru”, you yell from behind him. “Is it the food?” 

Your hair damp, a towel wrapped around your body, you saunter over to the door from behind him to peek, but your feet freeze in place. 

Oh? That girl... his ex. 

You woke up happy this morning, in fact you woke up happy every morning for the past seven days but now your mood was foul all of a sudden. That same odd feeling you’d get whenever you thought of Satoru with another girl creeped in in your chest. While you brushed it off easily in the past, you couldn’t quite do so now. The irritation grew more insistent. Your demons were threatening to act up. 

“...there was something going on between you”, the girl finishes her sentence, then pauses to let out a short laugh and shake her head in disbelief before she continues. “I guess my hunch was right, huh?” 

You step a little closer, standing right next to Satoru. 

Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on came over you. Of course, you could read the room — she obviously came here to mend things up. And you were not happy about it. Not in the slightest. Was this annoying feeling tugging at your chest called jealousy? You didn’t have a reason to hate this girl, she did nothing to you. Yet... 

“Well, well. Aren’t you a smart one?” — you couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth right now but you didn’t have it in you to stop.  

Utterly amused, Satoru stared at you. He was shocked, in a pleasingly new way. A semblance of an idiotic smile plastered on his lips while he did nothing to stop you. 

“Should I perhaps solidify your hunch with a proof so you stop running after someone else’s boyfriend?”, you glare at her. 

Standing on your toes, you clutch a handful of Satoru’s shirt with both hands, pulling him down to the level of your face for your lips to reach his, and kiss him. 

Helpless in the face of your lips laid against his, he lets out an audible gasp. The sound of it vibrating against your mouth. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, he thinks, but his eyes close anyway, melting into the softness of your lips. There was no tongue, just a long peck, and he couldn’t help but smile into it. 

Without breaking the kiss, you look at the girl from the corner of your eye, and you slam the door in her face. 

“Good riddance”, you murmur after pulling away from Satoru, and walk back inside. 

He never knew that a simple kiss like this could make him so dizzy that he would lose his balance and stumble. As if his feet got caught in something he involuntarily took a few sharp steps forward, putting his arms out to steady himself and avoid falling face down. 

“Hey”, he called out, slowly following behind you. 

“What’s her deal anyway?”, you keep going at it, still beyond irritated. “Didn’t you guys break up?” 

“Hey”, he speaks again, stepping closer. 

“And she's pestering you like this? The audacity...” 

“Hey—” 

“What!”, you yell, turning around to give him a scolding too because, knowing him, he probably didn’t end things with her in a manner that was polite and proper.  

...but he was right behind you, smiling at you affectionately with his eyes. It made your breath hitch, and your chest — feel a bit peculiar. 

“Hey”, he repeats again, softly. His hands squish your cheeks inside his palms and he slowly cranes his neck down. “Did you mean it?”, he asks through a whisper. 

You shift your gaze to the side, avoiding to look at him directly. “Did I mean what?”, you puff. 

“Calling me your boyfriend”, he tilts his head to the side, blocking your view and forcing you to look at him. 

“No... I was just saving your ass” — you try to break free to prevent the heat on your cheeks from warming the skin of his palms, from giving you away. But he’s holding you still. 

He leans in closer and whispers, “Would it be so bad if I was your boyfriend?” 

It was not a question as much it was a plea. Let me. 

“You’re a bit of a jerk sometimes, so maybe? I know for sure people will judge me for my poor taste” 

“Your mom won’t, she likes me”, he points out, proudly. 

“She likes you more than she likes me, her own daughter, so her opinion is invalid. In fact, she would tell you to go pick someone better”, you snort, and he laughs. She really did love him like her own son. After all, he grew up in her hands along with you. You spent day and night together, in and out of each other’s houses. 

“I am serious”, he gives a gentle squeeze around your face, an attempt to snap you out of the ongoing banter because he was desperate to know. You didn’t give him a proper answer, but you didn’t reject him either — there was still hope, he thought. “Would you hate it?” 

“...I don’t know”, you let out quietly, conflicted. 

“Should we try? Or are you only curious about my body?” 

“See? You’re kind of a jerk after all”, you pout. “Will things change... between us?” 

“Aren’t they already changing?”, he smiles. 

You hum, softly tugging at the hem of his shirt with both of your hands. "I don't want to lose my best friend if we screw this up” 

“Same”, he nuzzles his face closer. “That’s why, we won’t screw this up”, he quietly chants into you like a promise, drawing his lips to yours tenderly before either of you have the chance to panic any further about the implications of this change. 

[florestalio]

HIDE-N-SEEK — l.hs

recently, your town has been getting terrorized by a serial killer, going by the name of 'ghostface'. of course you were scared to be his victim. imagine the sheer terror on your face — and the utter delight on his — when your fear turns out to not have been caused by your paranoia.

GENRE— ghostface au, stalker au

WARNINGS— dubcon, then noncon, and then dubcon again (you'll see what I'm talking about), both reader and heeseung are kinda fucked up, mentions of killing, mentions of stalking, knife play, fear play, reader has tits, reader's pussy gets called 'her' a few times?, fingering, cum eating, slight spit play, spit kink (?), name-calling (baby, slut, bitch, etc.), unprotected sex (don't), blood, blood play, bulge kink, clit pinching, missionary, mating press, kind of an open ending (?), NOT PROOFREAD, let me know if I missed any!

WORDCOUNT— 8.2k

NOTE— among the italicized text, if you see normal text, it basically indicates the opposite. as in, if the entire block of text wasn't italicized, then the normal text would have been in italics instead... if that helps

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

NO ONE WAS SAFE.

No matter where you resided, if Ghostface chose you as his victim, consider yourself to be dead.

No amount of protection, whether it be in the form of weapons or guards, locked doors or high security neighbourhoods — no one was safe from him.

You may ask, who exactly was ‘Ghostface’? Why, he is a renowned serial killer, one who wears a pitch black coat and a creepy mask, paired with white rubber gloves. The last thing his victims see before dying is the creepy ghostface mask smiling down at them — as said by a ghostface victim, who had miraculously survived the attack, only to die hours later in the same hospital at which he was interviewed. Reports say that the victim had been stabbed a total of twenty times, the word ‘Ghostface' carved onto his forehead. Apparently, he didn't appreciate the fact that someone survived him — even if it was only for a few hours.

Which was why everyone was scared to go out, even during the day. Till this date, no one had ever seen his actual face, his entire existence a mystery to everyone except him. He was truly an enigma, the source of both amazement and horror for all.

People were scared to even interact with each other, in case said person turned out to be Ghostface. What if they did something to piss the other person off, resulting in their death �� perhaps in just a few hours from the aforementioned incident?

For an introvert like you, avoiding people came easy to you, it being your second nature. You weren't too worried about offending Ghostface, even by mistake. But no one was ever truly safe, not from the hands of a psycho serial killer, were they?

You would often find yourself peeking behind your shoulder at random times of the day, checking if someone was looking at you, or worse, following you. Perhaps it was simply due to your paranoia, combined with the increasing cases of deaths in the hands of Ghostface. Either way, your guard was always up.

You used to stay at the dorms on campus before, even when the deaths had started occurring on a daily basis. It was only after Regina — a girl who you never really liked because of her bitchy attitude — was found one morning by her roommate, completely mauled in her own dorm, lying in a pool of her own blood — did you finally feel terrified enough to move out of them, moving into a house in a slightly secluded region of the town, just around ten blocks away from campus. It wasn't a complete guarantee of your security, but it was better than nothing.

From some of the recent reports, apparently the victims of Ghostface were — stalked by him a few days prior to him killing them. Photos of the victims taken without their knowledge during the week before their death were found with their body. The police declared them to be taken by Ghostface, a fact that left you even more shaken than before.

You didn't have to be afraid of him. You were more than sure that you never did anything to piss anyone off, at least not knowingly. Surely no one could be holding a grudge against you, right? Especially not Ghostface?

Right?

IT WAS A NORMAL FRIDAY NIGHT — or as normal as it could be with the threat of becoming Ghostface’s next victim hanging heavily in the air.

Friday nights used to be the time when you danced, sang, got drunk, and hooked up, all night long at the frat parties that were held religiously every Friday. Now? Now people were afraid to look in other people's direction, in fear of provoking Ghostface.

It was truly remarkable, the way he had everyone in his chokehold. Rumors surrounding him specifically were mostly to blame for this.

See, according to many, Ghostface apparently likes to… toy with his victims before killing them. Exactly how does he toy with them?

According to the rumours, he gives them a phone call, taunting them. His voice is always distorted by a voice modulator, adding to the air of mystery surrounding him.

People were already downright terrified of him, but some people who apparently thought themselves to be hilarious, often mimicked Ghostface's antics — or what the rumours about him said — and called people up randomly, with a voice modulator. They would take advantage of the fact that no one actually knew what it sounded like, terrifying people to the core.

While some did it for pranking purposes, others did it for more malicious intentions, taking advantage of people's fears. It started getting worse and worse, the fakers, that is — until the government finally declared it to be a crime to mimic Ghostface, announcing a long time in jail for anyone who attempted it.

This put a stop to the mimicking, but it only made people grow more antsy. People were always silently waiting till their turn arrived to be Ghostface’s new victim, a fact that thrilled no one, but sent a chill down their spines, everytime they even thought of it.

Tonight was especially dark. The moon was behind the clouds, the eerie darkness causing you to feel more terrified than normal. It wasn't that dark, but with Ghostface out in the open…

You decided to focus on washing the rest of dirty dishes instead, trying to get your mind off the serial killer. You had procrastinated long enough, the dishes starting to pile up. What better way to distract yourself?

You turned on the television, listening to an anime while washing the dishes. Silence scared you, — which was ironic, since you were an introvert with terrible social anxiety — the need to have some kind of sound, in the tiny and isolated house of yours, other than the sound of washing dishes, was extremely high. The only available option on the television was anime, and… well, the news. But no one wants to listen to the news during these times — all the news channels simply showed Ghostface's new victims and their mutilated bodies that lay in a pool of their own blood.

You were done with washing the dishes, putting all the plates away neatly — when suddenly, your phone rang. You peeked at the screen, your lips turning into a frown — it was an unknown number.

You wiped your hands on your pants, picking up the call, putting the phone to your ear. “Hello…? May I know who this is?”

The phone remained silent for an entire minute. Just as you were about to speak again, a somewhat distorted voice came from the other side of the call. “What's your name?”

You frowned. Why was this person asking for your name, when he was the one that called you in the first place? What a fucking weirdo.

You spoke again. “I don't wish to sound rude, but — shouldn't I be the one asking that? I mean, you were the one that called me, you know — not the other way around.”

You heard a chuckle from the other side of the phone. It creeped you out, the sound more menacing than amused. He spoke again, his voice still sounding distorted. “Aren’t you adorable?”

You were starting to feel creeped out now. Your hand was gripping the last plate in your hand tightly, not even noticing how much pressure you were using on it. You spoke in a slightly higher voice, your tone pitchy with a detectable hint of panic. “Listen Mr. Stranger — I don't know who you are, nor am I particularly curious. But you aren't fucking funny, so if you don't have anything of importance to say, I'm hanging up.”

Silence. Again. This guy was really testing your patience.

Finally, he spoke again, his voice lower… still distorted. “I would watch my tone if I were you, sweetheart. It's no way to talk to a… stranger, is it?”

You gulped. He sounded so… ominous, his tone nothing short of menacing. With your anxiety spiking, you spoke again, your voice mostly level except for the slightest tremor to it. “What do you want…?”

The guy on the other side of the call let out a hum. “To know your name, of course. You still haven't told me.”

You let out a shaky breath, your grip on the plate tightening. “But why? What is the importance of my name to you?”

He let out a chuckle, his next words making your blood run cold. “So I can know who I'm looking at.”

You almost dropped the phone, all the colour from your face draining. You managed to speak up in a shaky voice. “C-Cut the act. You're not funny — the government declared jail for the pretenders, yet you're impersonating him–?”

You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “But darling, I'm not an impersonator, am I?” His voice grew lower, an underlying threat evident in it. “You don't believe me to be one either.”

Tears stung your eyes, the hand that was clutching the plate starting to shake. You slowly put down the dish, your eyes darting frantically around your living room that was connected to the open kitchen, looking around to spot any potential threat — said ‘threat’ being… Ghostface. Even if you knew that it was pointless. If Ghostface wanted to kill you, he would succeed in doing so — no matter what obstacles he faces. “L-Look Mr. Ghostface — I barely even go out! Even when I do, I mostly keep to myself, I don't even interact with anyone. I'm sure I haven't done anything to piss anyone off — let alone you, even unintentionally! So why…”

Your voice took on a tone of desperate resignation at the end, the subtle acceptance of your fate evident in it. Ghostface cooed at your tone, his own voice sounding like that of an excited child. “Aren't you cute? Don't worry, you didn't piss me off, just — intrigued me. You're always so alone, all by yourself… I just had to find out everything about you, didn't I? You are such a mystery, one I took utter delight in unraveling. It's only fair that I get a prize for my hard work, right ___?”

With each word he spoke, his voice could be heard louder and louder, coming from somewhere around the house. Right as he finished the sentence, the side door of your house, leading to the garden outside, slammed open. Ghostface stood in the doorway, a knife in one hand, a burner phone in the other. He spoke, his voice distorted from the voice modulator.

“Right, ___?”

You let out a loud scream, the tears finally breaking free, as you turned on your heel, getting out of the open kitchen, towards the stairs. You knew from all those horror movies that running into your bedroom would be the worst possible move, but you really had no choice. You could hear him behind you, laughing as he gave chase. “Running off so quickly, darling? Won't you at least give me a greeting, welcome me into your house? That's bad manners, you know. Or did mama not teach you any?”

His voice sounded like two people, speaking at once, one of a real person, the other a distorted voice like those in old radios. It unnerved you, since his voice modulator was probably glitching due to him running. You ran into your bedroom, locking it quickly — just in time for him to bang on the door loudly.

He yelled loudly, his voice bordering on that of manic excitement. “Open the door ___! You know that the bedroom is never a smart move. Or are you a dumb baby that doesn't know the basics of survival?”

His taunting was causing your already scattered thought process even harder to get together, your hands shaking. You looked for a hiding place before he inevitably broke down the door.

Under the bed? A good idea, but he would probably think of the same. But what other hiding places could there possibly…  the closet.

You quickly ran to the closet, throwing open its door. You pushed some of your clothes apart, going far inside, before pulling the clothes in front of you to make it seem as inconspicuous as possible. You sat at the back, your legs pulled up to your chest, your breathing shallow. You realised what a terrible hiding place it was, but it will have to do.

The banging grew more frantic, before he finally managed to kick down the door. You could hear his voice from inside the closet, causing you to still your breathing, to avoid getting caught. His voice was more of a menacing growl, no longer disoriented — maybe his voice modulator ran out of batteries? “Having fun princess? You're so fucking naive if you think hiding here will save you.”

He paced about the room slowly. “Where could you be hiding, hm? I hope it's not–” He dropped to his knees, peeking under the bed. “–under the bed? No, of course not. That would have been too easy. You're naive, but not that much, huh?”

But then he let out a snicker, one that almost caused you to start crying again. You could hear his footsteps again. “Or are you?”

Before you could comprehend the meaning of his words, the closet door was thrown open, his hand grabbing your wrist in a vice-like grip, pulling you out, tearing a scream out of you. “Turns out you are a dumb little bunny after all.”

He tackled your struggling figure to the ground, pinning your legs with his knees on either side of you. He used one of his hands to pin your wrists above your head, his other hand raising the knife, pushing it under your jaw, just a hair-breath shy of cutting into your throat. His voice sounded like a growl, an octave deeper. “Don't you fucking dare move — unless you would like me to slit your pretty little throat open. Trust me, I would take great pleasure in doing so.”

Your movements stilled, your breath coming out in short huffs. Tears were streaming down your face freely, your entire body covered in goosebumps. You stared up at him — at his mask, rather. He tilted his head to the side. “Did you have fun playing hide and seek? I hope you did, because I cannot guarantee that you will be having much fun now — it's my turn to have fun now, afterall.”

His words sent a chill down your spine. You were starting to accept your fate. Any moment now, he would slice the knife across your throat, slitting it in one clean swipe. He would laugh while watching the blood flowing freely from the wound, watching as the life leaves your eyes. It was all just a game for him, after all.

But he seemed to have different plans. He trailed his knife down, under the edge of your shirt. He slipped it inside, the cool metal making contact with your skin, the temperature difference sending a jolt through you. He traced the pointed end on your stomach, before doing something that shocked you — and gave you a hint of his true intentions.

He turned the knife sideways, sharp side facing up, before digging it into your shirt, slicing through it. The knife tore through the fabric like paper, before he threw the ruined fabric in some random corner of the room. You gasped at the cold air, squirming slightly. He pressed the knife above your stomach warningly. “Sit still darling. Or else I won't hesitate to cut up your useless body.”

Tears stung your eyes again at his words. But you stilled, too eager to survive. Your eyes suddenly widened as you saw him slip the knife under the middle part of your bra, before slicing it open. You gasped as he threw the discarded fabric away, the cool air hitting your boobs, your nipples instantly hardening. You were suddenly acutely aware of the precarious position you were in, unable to stop the heat creeping up your neck, as you noticed his intense gaze on your tits.

He gave you a warning look from behind his mask, his knife coming back against your throat. “One wrong move, and your throat will get sliced open.” He let go of your wrists — watching as you kept them in the same place. He smirked under the mask at your pliancy, his gloved hand coming to pinch your hardened nipples.

You let out a tiny shriek of surprise at the feeling of his rubber clad fingers groping you, unable to resist a whimper as he squeezed your mounds. He was merciless in the way he groped you, squeezing and pinching, completely unaffected by your whimpers and gasps — it was exhilarating.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to hold back a whine, as he twisted your nipple in between his fingers. You desperately tried to ignore the heat that was pooling down in your lower stomach, your heart racing.

He pinched your nipple again, squeezing your left tit roughly. He felt you shudder underneath him, the usual thrill that came with threatening his victims, running through his veins.

Yet, there was something else — an almost imperceptible hitch in your breathing, a flicker of… heat in your eyes, despite the situation you were in. Curious, he slightly moved his knife away from your throat, but not enough to make you feel any less threatened. “What's this…?”

You looked into the eyes of his mask, gulping audibly. He pinched your nipple again, tearing out a whine from you. His eyes narrowed at your reaction. He wasn't dumb — he knew when someone was turned on. But… in this situation? With a knife to your throat? Your life in his hands? It made no sense. Still — his body responded, his pants tightening.

He slowly dragged the knife down, in between your breasts, pausing at your stomach. He looked up at your face, searching for any sign of fear, or even defiance — nothing.

Instead, he saw your lips parted slightly, your breath hitching — he swore he saw your pupils dilate. He let out a shaky breath, his voice laced in disbelief. “You…”

His grip tightened noticeably, curiosity and annoyance warring in his expression. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" The realization sent a jolt of dark excitement through him. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Sick bitch.”

You let out a whimper, shaking your head frantically, in denial of the whole situation. Still, your thighs rubbed together involuntarily, trying to quell the ache between them.

An almost menacing chuckle escaped him as he registered your movement. His free hand moved to pin your thighs down, trapping them between his own once again. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, feeling his control slip. "You're really getting off on this?”

You let out a whine, squirming slightly. He stared down at you, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never been this close to losing control before. But the way you were reacting, the way you were looking at him — it was driving him insane.

"I should cut you," he growled, the knife trembling against your stomach. Your eyes fluttered slightly at the threat, a slow exhale leaving you. You couldn't understand your own body. Why, the fuck, were you reacting the way you were?

He blinked rapidly, shaking his head slightly as if to clear it. The knife lowered incrementally. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" His voice was incredulous, though tinged with reluctant awe. "Getting turned on by someone threatening you?”

Your eyes stung with tears at his words, your body reacting in the completely opposite manner — your thighs clenched, an almost pitiful whimper leaving you.

He watched your body language, the tears welling up in your eyes — a strange mix of emotions hit him. He dropped the knife to his side, as one of his gloved hands slid up to grip your jaw firmly. "You're fucked up." He whispered, anger and desire clashing in his voice.

You gulped, only just realising that your hands were free. Yet you made no attempt to move them.

His grip tightened on your jaw, leaning in until his face was almost touching yours — his mask, rather. His breath was ragged, mingling with yours. "Is this what you wanted?" he snarled, though the bite was gone from his voice, replaced by confusion, mixed with arousal. "To get me all worked up?”

You whimpered at the pressure on your jaw, your nails digging into your palm, as you clenched your fists. You were so, so painfully aroused.

A rough sound caught in his throat as he stared down at you, fighting an internal battle. He originally just wanted to play with you a little, make you feel worthless — like trash that he could easily dispose of. Disposing you was exactly what he had planned to do, although now that plan was no longer going to be put into action — at least for the time being. 

He threw the knife away, causing it to clatter to the floor. His other hand moved to your hip, digging into the flesh there. "You little…”

You winced at his grip, your nose scrunching up in pain. You stared up at him, tears still evident in your waterline.

That was his last straw. He took off his mask, allowing you a brief glimpse of his face. His last semblance of control shattered, as he cut himself off, his mouth crashing against yours in a bruising kiss. His tongue forced its way in, tangling with yours demandingly. He kissed you like he was trying to punish you, to make you pay for the effect you were having on him.

Your eyes widened in shock, as you gasped loudly into the kiss. You tried to kiss him back, to match his pace — all in vain. His lips were punishing, intending to make it hurt for you. Unfortunately all it did was make you crave for more.

He finally broke the kiss, panting heavily as he rested his forehead against yours. His heart was racing, his mind reeling. "What the fuck is going on…?" he muttered, his voice shaking with a combination of anger and awe. "You're supposed to be scared, not turned on."

You gulped. Your senses were starting to blur, all of them zeroing in on his touch and his voice. It was painstakingly weird how you were reacting — how he was reacting to you. But damn, you enjoyed it — so fucking much.

He pulled back slightly, searching your eyes with a fierce intensity. "Say something, fuck. Explain this." His hands remained gripping you, betraying his conflicted desire and frustration. "I'm trying to terrify you and instead..." He trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief.

When you didn't immediately respond, he growled low in his throat. His hands tightened around you, his body pressed flush against yours. "Fucking talk, you little bitch. Tell me why the fuck you're so turned on right now."

Your breath hitched, your mind going blank. He was insulting you, his voice carrying disgust — you fucking loved it.

A dark smirk crossed his face at your breath hitching, his thumb brushing across your lower lip. "Look at that — all worked up, can't form words…" He leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "Does it make your pussy throb when I threaten you?"

Your eyes widened at the sudden crude language and the bluntness in his voice, your skin pricking, panties practically sticking to your cunt. He was right — your pussy did indeed throb when he threatened you.

Suddenly, you realised that you recognised him. He was Heeseung, one of the most popular guys at your college.

You remembered having interacted with him just once, when he bumped into you back in your first year. He was your senior, who immediately apologised to you after that, helping you pick up your books. He walked with you for a while after that, forcefully engaging you in small talk. He didn't seem to mind your short answers or your eagerness to get rid of him at all, continuing to talk — until a friend of his called him to go to class, causing him to reluctantly stop his rambling, waving you bye and leaving.

You remembered finding out all about him that very day during recess, overhearing his name from the table next to yours in the cafeteria. It was a group of girls, who seemed to be gossiping in what they thought were hushed voices… only, they weren't. You could hear every word.

They were specifically talking about Heeseung, about how hot he was, how smart he was — both book smart and street smart. You remembered mentally rolling your eyes at their fawning, before a certain piece of information had caught your interest.

They mentioned him to be a prude, never showing interest in going into relationships or even casual hook ups. Apparently, he had never gone on a date with anyone, politely turning down everyone who asked. It seemed rather odd of him, since he seemed like the dream package.

This incident had occurred a year before the killings first started. Nevertheless, Heeseung was never the kind of guy who seemed to be capable of something as shockingly gruesome as this. The thought made you sick to your stomach, a nasty feeling under your skin.

You snapped back into the present time, looking up at him, truly looking at him. He barely looked anything like the Heeseung you met during freshman year. His smirk grew wider at the sudden realization on your face, his hand moving to gently squeeze your throat. He was going to have to have a talk with you about college later on. Right now, he had more important things to focus on. For instance, how aroused you were from your life being threatened. "Yeah, that's it. Your little heart races and your pussy gets so fucking wet when I scare you." He leaned back to look at you, his eyes gleaming with a sinister light.

He watched your throat bob as you swallowed, his hand still gently squeezing. "You're a fucking mess, you know that?" Heeseung leaned in again, his lips just a hair's breadth from yours. "A little slut who gets off on being threatened.” His words were a whisper against your lips, his breath hot against your skin. "And you know what the worst part is? I think I might actually like it." He pulled back, his gaze boring into yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

You stared up at him, your breathing slightly shallow, begging him with your eyes to touch you. Heeseung let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. "Unbelievable." His hand slid from your throat, trailing down your chest teasingly. "Here I am, supposedly threatening you, but we both know it's me who should be terrified.”

Your back arched into his touch, a small whine leaving you. He chuckled darkly at your reaction, his fingers brushing over the swell of your breasts. "Look at that — arching into my touch like a fucking bitch in heat." His hand continued down, tracing the curves of her body possessively.

You whined at his words, your back arching even more. You let out whimpers, shaky exhales leaving you. His eyes flashed with wicked amusement at the sound. "Oh, listen to those whimpers. Pathetic." He pinched your nipple abruptly, twisting just to the point of pain. "You're so fucking desperate for it, aren't you?”

You let out a loud gasp of pain, your body jolting — yet your body begged for more, a whimper eliciting from you the very next second. A smug grin spread across his face as he watched you whimper. "Five seconds ago I was trying to scare you, now look at you fucking trembling for my touch." He bent down, his lips grazing against your neck, as he nipped at your skin. "What does that make you?”

You gulped. His teeth dragged over your pulse point, marking your skin. "It makes you a needy little slut, doesn't it?" His hand finally reached your thigh, gripping it possessively. "A slut who can't get enough of my touch, no matter how much she pretends to be afraid.”

You whined, begging for more. "Mmm… that whine is fucking music to my ears." He abruptly lifted your leg, wrapping it around his waist as he pressed his hard cock against you. "Don't you see what you do to me? All of that bullshit where you pretended to be scared…”

You let out a shaky moan, pressing back against him. Heeseung silenced you with a brutal kiss, biting your lip to keep you quiet as he rubbed himself against you through your clothes. "You think I'm scary?" He growled, his hands roaming over your body possessively.

You let out sharp gasps, your voice coming out shaky. “A b-bit–?”

He bit your bottom lip harder, pulling back with your lip caught between his teeth. "Shut. Up." His voice was rough, commanding. "You don't get to smart-mouth me while you're practically dripping." He let your lip go with a sharp tug, making you whimper.

You bit your lip to muffle any further noises. His eyes darkened dangerously as he noticed your silence, one hand capturing both wrists above your head once again, while the other trailed down to your center. "Not going to lie, but princess? The way you just submitted to me like that?" He pressed against you meaningfully. "Fucking hot.”

You whimpered at his touch, your hips bucking up, pressing into his hand. He pushed his hand inside your shorts, his fingers finding her soaked panties, rubbing against your clit through the fabric. "So fucking wet. And you know what?" He rubbed faster, his thumb pressing against your clit. "I fucking love it." He released your wrists to grab your face, forcing you to look at him.

You let out a loud whimper at his sudden grip. His fingers continued their torturous rhythm, watching your expression carefully. "You're supposed to be terrified, remember?" He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Shouldn't you be trying to push me away instead of grinding against my fingers like a good little slut?”

You bit your lip, staring into his eyes, trying to prevent yourself from moaning out loud. His free hand gripped your hip tightly, pulling you flush against him, as he continued his movements. "You're a fucking liar." He growled, his fingers moving faster. "Admit it. You're not afraid of me. You're so fucking turned on.”

You let out a choked moan, grinding back onto his fingers. He grinned sadistically, his fingers finally moving your panties aside to slip inside you. "Mmm, look at that." He curled his fingers, hitting your g-spot perfectly.

You let out a loud gasp, your back arching. You could see stars at the back of your eyes, that's how good it felt. He thrust his fingers deeper, his thumb rubbing your clit in circles. "You're so fucking tight. And wet." He leaned down to bite your neck, hard, sucking a bruise on your skin. "I bet my dick would fit perfectly in this pretty little cunt.”

You clenched around his fingers at his words, the thought of it making you crave even more. His fingers continued their relentless pace, feeling you clench around him. "You haven't answered me." His voice was low and dangerous. "Is that silence because you're afraid? Or because the thought of me fucking you is making you even wetter?”

You gulped, choosing to stay silent. He nuzzled against your neck, his breath hot against your skin, as he spoke. "Let me make it easier for you. Answer this." He thrust his fingers deeper. "Am I scaring you? Or turning you on even more than before?”

You let out a moan at the feeling of his fingers hitting deeper. His fingers curled harder, hitting your g-spot perfectly. "Ah, fuck, that's it." He pulled his fingers out, using the wetness to rub against your clit before shoving them back inside. "You're turned on. Impossibly so.”

He pulled his fingers out again, this time using his thumb to rub your clit in tight circles. "You're so fucking turned on, you can't even answer properly." He pressed two fingers back inside you, curling them to hit her g-spot again.

You let out a loud moan. He chuckled darkly as he felt your moan vibrate through your body. "That's it, princess. Don't hold back." He pumped his fingers harder, the wet squelching noises filling the room. "Your pussy is practically begging to be fucked.”

He added a third finger, stretching your cunt further. "Fuck, look at her." He pulled his fingers out, rubbing your clit with all three before shoving them back inside. "Your cute little cunt is starving for my dick.”

Heeseung increased his pace, fucking you with his fingers mercilessly. "Come all over my fingers," He growled in her ear. "Show me how badly you want it." He bit down harder on your neck, hitting your g-spot perfectly as he curled his fingers.

You let out a loud mewl, your eyes rolling back into your head. You clenched around his fingers, the band in your stomach starting to coil impossibly tight. The squelching noises from where his fingers slid in and out of you at a fast pace, did absolutely nothing, but cause an embarrassed flush to creep all over your face and neck.

He pressed down on your clit with his thumb, rubbing on it sloppily. Your abundant slick helped him do just that, the pace of his fingers growing harsher, mirroring his buddying frustration. A low growl bubbled in his throat, as he forced his fingers to go in deeper, trying to practically force an orgasm out of you. Needless to say, he succeeded soon enough, your back arching with a loud cry, your pussy clamping down on his fingers, your release practically gushing around them.

“That's it…” He coaxed, his fingers still pumping in and out of you, drawing out your release. “Look so pretty like this, all pliant for me.”

Your head was empty, completely devoid of all thoughts, your legs shaking slightly from the overstimulation. He let out a snicker at your state, bringing his hand up, in front of his face. He locked eyes with you, spreading his fingers, letting you see the strings of arousal clinging to them.

Upon seeing your flushed face, a smirk creeped up on his. Maintaining eye contact with you, he leisurely started licking his fingers clean. He dragged his tongue from the bottom of his finger to the top, collecting your cum on it, his saliva replacing it on your fingers.

Your eyes fluttered slightly, mouth parting. Heeseung took that as his que to grab your jaw and hold it open — with the same hand that he had stuffed inside you just moments ago — pushing his thumb inside, pressing down on your tongue. Holding your mouth open, he gathered a wad of spit with his tongue, before leaning down and spitting right into your open mouth. He watched with hooded eyes, as your own rolled back into your head, his spit dripping down to the back of your throat.

You could feel a tingling in your pussy again, empty, aching to be stuffed. Maybe with something more than just his fingers. He noticed the slight change in your body language almost immediately, of course he did — but who was he to deny you, when you were being so good for him?

Heeseung gave you a stern look. “Behave. Be a good girl, and keep still for me, hm?”

You could only gulp in response, as he released your jaw. You watched, as he shook off the black coat — or costume, whatever it was supposed to be. You kept still, your wrists still above your head, your fists clenching tightly, mimicking your thighs. Your eyes raked over his bare torso, your gaze trailing down — eventually resting on his extremely obvious hard on in his boxers. A large patch was already forming on its front from his precum, his cock straining hard against the fabric, begging to be released.

He smirked at your gaze. Teasingly, he ran his palm over his bulge, feeling it twitch under his hand. “Like what you see baby?”

You gulped, your eyes snapping up to his own. Your breath sped slightly, wanting to do something risky. Your life was still very much in danger, but you were willing to take the risk for now.

You slowly sat up, your face now extremely close to his. He raised a brow, an unimpressed gleam in his eyes. Yet, there was a curiosity in them — wanting to know your next move.

Although your next move didn't really impress him. Quite the opposite.

You raised your hand, slowly inching it closer to his boner. His eyes narrowed at your audacity. In a flash, he reached to his side, and picked up the discarded knife, holding it to your throat. He glared down at you, a cold, calculating look in his eyes. “Lay. Back. Down. Unless you want me to slit your throat, cut the rest of your body up, and use your blood as lube to fuck your corpse?”

Your eyes widened at his words, your hand freezing mid air, before quickly falling back to your side. Upon receiving another pointed glare from him, you laid back down, mindful of the knife that was back in his hands. You wanted him — no, needed him to fuck you — you, not your future possibly no-longer-breathing corpse.

Upon ensuring that you weren't up to anymore tricks, he once again put the knife away — out of your reach, but not out of his. Heeseung shrugged off his boxers, his cock immediately slapping against his stomach. It left a trail of precum, which he gathered on his fingers, before wrapping that same hand around his dick. He started to slowly pump it, using his own precum to slick it up.

Noticing your almost pitifully needy expression, he let out an amused scoff, before holding out his hand under her mouth. “Spit.” He ordered in a gruff voice.

Your eyes widened slightly at his command, before you hesitantly obeyed. Gathering a wad of saliva in your mouth, you spit it into his hand, watching with hooded eyes, as he used it to jerk himself off faster.

Once he was done, he spread your thighs again, letting out a confused grunt at how much more force he needed to use as compared to last time. He glared up at you. “You and I both know you want this, princess. So stop trying to deny me what I hunted you for. Or else…”

You bit your lip to suppress a whimper. Were you sick for getting even wetter at his words? Definitely. Should you tell him to stop and possibly escape whatever he was going to do? Obviously. Will you do it? Absolutely not.

In fact, an absolutely brilliant idea struck your magnificent brain. You decided to not obey him. Him, the renowned serial killer, Ghostface. Were you basically signing your own death certificate? Well… no harm in finding out, right?

You tried to close your legs shut, something which immediately earned you a nasty glare from him. His jaw clenched tightly, as he forcefully shoved your legs apart again. His hand reached for the knife, your eyes widening at the sight. “Seems like someone hasn't learnt their lesson yet…”

You tried to beg him to not hurt you, but the words died in your throat when he pressed the knife to it. A creepy smile adorned his face, as he caressed your face in a gentle manner, a sharp contrast to the knife to your throat. “Let me spell it out for you–” Right as he said those words, he grabbed your wrists tightly, holding you under him firmly, the knife lifting from your throat. You got confused for a second, before a scream tore out of you.

He was carving something on your stomach.

He shallowly carved his initials onto your stomach, laughing as you screamed. “Squirming will only make it hurt more~” He almost sang, his tone causing you to sob.

He was finally done, watching the blood flow out of the wound, almost moaning at the sight. “Fuck baby, do you even realise how hot you look right now?”

You hated it, every single bit of it. You didn't want him to fuck you anymore, hell, you felt ashamed of yourself for ever wanting it. You felt disgusted beyond words by yourself, for having him carve his initials on your stomach to make you realise the kind of guy you were dealing with. He wasn't some hot fictional guy from the books you read, he was an actual serial killer — someone who could quite literally kill you as and when he pleased.

Heeseung seemed to sense your inner monologue. He snickered. “Suddenly regretting everything baby? That's cute… it's as if you believe you had a choice in this in the first place. Cute.”

You wanted to scream, cry, sob — all at the same time. How did you even manage to get yourself into this mess?

You didn't have much time to ponder, as he suddenly sliced his knife through your panties, finally ripping them off you. He shrugged off his own boxers, rubbing the tip of his cock along the arousal coating your puffy folds. A shiver ran down your spine, causing you to bite down on your lip. You hated it, you didn't want it — but your body couldn't deny how good it felt.

Heeseung wasn't any less affected than you. He let out a groan, his eyes shutting briefly. “See how good that feels baby? You think you don't want it, but your body says something different. See how your pussy keeps dripping all over my cock?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, tears welling up in them — tears from exactly what, you didn't know. Was it embarrassment? Pain? Pleasure? Neither did you know, nor were you keen on finding out.

With his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, he slowly pushed himself in, groaning from how easily he slid in, thanks to your slick. He let out a rough noise from the back of his throat. “Look at how your cunt is sucking me in like a slut. You sure you don't want this, baby?”

His knife had returned to your throat, his other hand gripping your hip. You could only bite your lip to muffle a whimper, your tears having broken free. He felt — good. You just wished this happened under different circumstances. When he wasn't cutting you up or threatening your life as Ghostface, maybe.

He bottomed out, burying himself to the hilt. He let out a groan, his eyes falling to your stomach. They widened, noticing something other than his initials he had just carved on it. There was a bulge on your stomach. “Holy shit…”

As if in a trance, he pressed down on it with his hand that wasn't holding the knife, watching as you involuntarily arched your back. He let out a laugh in disbelief. “Would you look at that? Had no idea you were this sexy, princess.”

He didn't wait to see your reaction, pulling out slowly, before slamming back inside. He watched your body jerk at the force, the bulge disappearing and reappearing. It was so, so hot.

He put the knife away, just out of reach of you. He gripped your hips with both hands, once again pulling almost completely out, watching as the bulge disappeared, before slamming back in, watching it reappear. He effectively tore a moan out of you this time, watching in amusement as you quickly slammed a hand onto your mouth, your eyes looking mortified. It was as if you were still trying to convince yourself that you didn't want this.

You were so cute. So. Fucking. Cute.

He pulled out again, pushing back in with much more force than before, setting a fast pace. He watched with a perverse amusement, as you let out a choked scream, flailing your arms above your head aimlessly, as if looking for something to grab on to. He fastened his pace, grunts leaving his throat with every thrust.

Your screaming was gradually turning into moans, the undeniable pleasure coursing through you making your head spin. It didn't help how the room was filled with wet slapping sounds from where the two of you kept connecting, the sting from the cut on your stomach barely there anymore. You felt hot, an insatiable thirst in your pussy, being quenched by his unforgiving pace.

His thrusts never once faltered, the bruising grip that he had on your hips was starting to hurt — just a bit. He let out a small groan, his eyes once again falling on your stomach, the bulge disappearing and reappearing in it at a comically fast pace. “Hah — look s’fucking cute like t-this — just lying there like a pliant little whore — taking my cock — fuck–”

He was cut off by your pussy clenching around him, his groan cutting through the constant wet slapping from where you both kept connecting. Encouraged by your reaction, he sped up, reaching an almost animalistic pace.

Your head was starting to go blank from his pace, the way he continued to pound into your sobbing cunt had you seeing stars. His name left your mouth in a breathy moan, causing his eyes to pop out, him almost spilling his load inside you right then and there.

Without stopping his unforgiving pace, he grabbed your jaw in one hand, his nails digging into your cheeks. “Say it again — c'mon baby, moan my name again — let me hear you, fuck–”

He was cut off by you whimpering, the unmistakable sound of his name leaving your mouth for the second time. With a growl, he gripped both of your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders. The new position allowed him to reach deeper, hitting your spot with every thrust. It had you seeing stars, uncontrollable moans and his name falling from your lips like a mantra.

He reached one of his hands down to rush harsh circles on your hardened bundle of nerves, trying to force an orgasm out of you. “C'mon baby, cum for me — squeeze my cock harder, fucking cum for me–”

The band in your stomach tightened to an impossible level, ready to snap. He pinched your clit, hard, continuing to rub dizzying circles around it. He delivered a harsh slap to it, causing you to finally topple over the edge.

Your ears were filled with a loud ringing noise, vision going white. You clenched around his length, gripping it in a vice like grip. Your cum flowed around his length, coating it completely. He groaned, as he kept pumping in and out of you, a white ring forming at the base of his cock. The sight had him pistoning out of you at a ridiculously fast pace, before burying himself to the hilt inside you. Warm, thick ropes of cum erupted from his tip, painting your insides white. He slowly grinded his hips, still inside you, ensuring that none of it fell out.

He stayed like that for a moment, before pulling out his softening length with a hiss. He fucked his cum back inside with his fingers, enjoying the way your body racked with shudders, little whines escaping you from the sensitivity.

He slowly sat up, admiring your spread out body. He brushed his hand through your hair, rubbing the sweat off your forehead. “You know,” He started, looking down at you with an unsettling smile. “I never fucked anyone I was going to kill before. Never felt attracted enough to them. But you–” He hesitated for a second, before speaking again. “I used to have a crush on you back in college. Remember when I bumped into you once? It was on purpose. I needed an excuse to talk to you. It really hurt me when I realised that you weren't interested in doing so, you know? You were the reason I never went out with anyone, either.”

You gulped, staring back at him. He had an unreadable expression on his face. “I started this — this killing streak, to get your attention. But then I started enjoying it too much — fantasizing what you would look like, all cut up and bleeding prettily for me, begging for me to let you live. It got me so fucking hard, you know? Jerked myself off to that thought so many nights. Until tonight — I knew I had to get you — kill you. Play with you a little first. Didn't think it would escalate to this though.”

He grinned, his eyes holding a kind of craziness that sent a chill down your spine. “Maybe I won't kill you…” He murmured, his hand caressing your cheek. “I’ll just… keep you. My pretty little toy, mine to use and play with, as and how I feel like. Isn't that right, princess?”

[honeydazai]

୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ sending them suggestive pictures while they're at work

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Fukuzawa, Fyodor, Sigma

content: nsfw, female reader, spanking, sexting, oral sxx, masturbation, semi public

It's not unusual for DAZAI to tap away on his phone during work hours, so no one — except for Kunikida, who still hasn't given up on glaring — pays it any mind when his smirk widens at his screen. What remains a secret, however, is that he's not looking at some funny tweet but instead at your tits, the blue lace of your bra making for a pleasant contrast in colour.

He's awfully smug about the whole ordeal, really; also, who is he not to play along? He definitely sends you not only some appreciative words back, but also a picture of his own, featuring either his hands — he does know that you're quite fond of his fingers, after all —, his face — because you can never complain about that! —, or his by now half-hard dick, pressing against his trousers, even though taking soft nudes borders on workplace indecency. Oh, and your pictures are definitely saved and stored away on his phone for later usage.

[new message from Dazai] “someone's needy, harassing me during work hours! just kidding bella!! you're so cute xx stunning too! how am i supposed to listen to kunikida any longer when you're so so pretty? :( ill call out sick, be there in 20 x”

CHŪYA really doesn't expect to see anything but a picture of a dog you saw outside or of a particularly pretty flower when he spares a brief glance at his phone during a Port Mafia meeting. It's already disrespectful, though he doesn't plan on anyone noticing the miniscule action — that is, until he all but chokes on his coffee at the photo of you, legs spread wide, two fingers deep inside of yourself, wearing not only his favourite lingerie set, but also one of his ties.

He tries hard to ignore the way everyone stares at him when he, all too abruptly, excuses himself to the bathroom, his face bright red. In the safety of a stall, he really can't do anything but shove his trousers to his knees, one hand immediately closing around his dick while he types your number into his phone with his free one — and while he might snap at you, oh so flustered, he's also so damn turned on that he can barely focus on anything but the sound of your voice and your photo.

“Fucking Hell, babe—, God, with how Mori was looking at me, I bet he knew what was up. Fuck—, send me another one, please, I'm so damn close, ah—”

Business meetings aren't RANPO'S favourite way to spend time. They're awfully boring, making him huff and sigh when he has to sit through them — though this one gets a lot more interesting the moment he clicks on a text message from you. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of your panties, pure lace and hiding not even the slightest bit just how wet you are, thighs glistening, though that's about all the physical reaction he's going to show. The fact that his dick strains against his trousers is no one's business.

He is, however, quick to text you back, amusement dripping from his messages, and if Fukuzawa wasn't already watching him with sharp eyes, he'd sneak away to the bathroom to call you. For now, you'll just have to do with sexting — this meeting is going to go on for a while, especially if he won't soon start contributing, and he's unfortunately got better things to do.

[new message from Ranpo] “having fun without me? youre so mean. at least send me more pics im dyin g here... maybw bend over or— ooo i know, we bought that toy a while ago, right? why don't you use that one for me, doll....”

FUKUZAWA sucks in a sharp breath the second his eyes fall onto your form clad in nothing but one of his yukatas, and even though he attempts to remain calm, he's already blushing, arousal churning low in his stomach. Really, he was just trying to take a miniscule break from all the paperwork he's facing — besides, the cat ringtone signaling your message did sound rather urgent! —, though now he's not certain whether he can focus on it again.

He ends up typing “This is most inappropriate.” in response, though he never sends it, instead replacing it with a “You look stunning.”, only to never send that one either. In the end, he just quits work a little earlier that day and hurries home faster than he'd ever want to admit, cheeks still flushed with arousal when he joins you in bed, immediately slotting himself between your pretty thighs, long fingers spreading your folds apart and into your cunt to prepare you — only to realise you've long done that yourself. How convenient. He might reprimand you a little afterwards, though both of you realise it's not to be taken seriously. When he's honest with himself, he rather liked that photo — and he'll definitely keep it.

“That was awfully inappropriate. Darling, you know I enjoy getting to hear from you during the day, and yet — what? I didn't mind you wearing my clothing in the slightest. I was worried about someone from the Agency seeing the picture. In fact, wear my clothes again whenever you feel like it. Please do. You looked quite irresistible.”

It's almost unfair just how seemingly unbothered FYODOR is. When checking his phone during a Decay of Angels meeting, aware that you know not to contact him except for important reasons, he merely glances at the photo lewdly depicting your raised skirt and the curve of your behind before putting it back into his pocket. Really, it's downright adorable that you're attempting to tease him — you should know better by now, darling.

While he doesn't bother with a response, he certainly makes sure to pay attention to you when he returns home. And, oh, the next time you want to toy with him, he sure hopes you remember this very moment, of you bent across his lap, his hand coming down ever so often on your butt, on the soft skin of your upper thighs, making you cry out with every slap. The marks, at least, will serve as a nice reminder, especially when you keep forgetting to thank him for every hit.

“There we go, dear. Ah, ah — don't cry now. This is what you wanted, is it not? My undivided attention — and you certainly have it, now. Which number were we on again? Tell me, darling, or we will have to start over, I'm afraid.”

The second SIGMA spares a quick glance at his phone, only to stumble upon a rather revealing picture you just sent him — and, God, 'rather revealing' is an understatement when he's able to see just how wet you are, thighs spread for the camera —, his face heats up significantly, earning him some odd looks from the other men he's currently in a meeting with. In a desperate attempt to regain professionalism, he clears his throat, trying to simply continue, but it's as if every thought has been erased from his mind and was replaced by you.

When getting home that evening, he's calmed down considerably, cheeks still warm with the memory of you being this bold, though his sudden calmness might just change when you expect him in that exact same position, legs wide apart, the smile on your face teasing — and who is he not to end up on his knees in front of you, tongue flattening against your cunt while both of you let out breathy moans? In the end, he's all but begging you to return the favour.

“Ah, God, I'm close. At least finish me off, please—, you were really cruel today, dear. Make it up to me? Please? Oh, fuck—”

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[realcube]

— SAIKI RELATIONSHIP HCS

☆ very hesitant to hug you/hold hands bc he is afraid he might shatter all your bones. prefers kisses, less can go wrong

☆ except that one time he kissed you and was so flustered that a whole galaxy exploded

☆ but it was one of those really distant, useless ones so he moved on

☆ or that time you held his hand and he literally started levitating ??

☆ finishes exams in two seconds then spends the rest of the time annoying you

'i don't mean to disturb you but i noticed you put the wrong answer for question four' 'get out of my head!'

☆ i already wrote a drabble about this but he morphs into different objects to 'prank' you

☆ you always want him to shrink bc what's the point of having a psychic bf if you can't carry him around on your person like a polly pocket

☆ he's very apprehensive about it, however one day he finally agrees to it because you have a shift at work and you really wanted him to join you but it would be weird if he just showed up to your place of work unannounced so he shrunk and you carried him around in your back pocket

☆ that is until you almost sat on him!! and when he dived out to avoid being crushed, he fell onto the sticky work floor covered in dust

☆ still hasn't fully recovered 😿

☆ omg if you are insecure about a physical feature of yours , instead of using his powers to change you, he will use his mind control on the entire world so that your insecurity is now the beauty standard (similar to what he did with his hair)

☆ he doesn't use mind control on you though bc it's rude

☆ in fact he tries to avoid using his powers on you all together bc it would only cause trouble (with the exception of telepathy bc he likes to speak to you.. unlike he does with most people)

☆ and he's very strict with that ethic of his

☆ which is nice and all, and really easy until he does something super embarrassing in front of you

☆ like you see him scream at a cockroach or smth

☆ and he is SO tempted to use memory alteration on you so you could just forget that ever happened

☆ but he just can't bring himself to do it

☆ OR when your birthday was before his so he got you a present but didn't do that much else, but when it was time for his birthday and you went all out, he so wanted to either go back in time and do better or just alter your memory so you think he went all out too

☆ oh and passive aggression doesn't work on him ofc

☆ if you are ever mad or upset at him for whatever reason, you can't be like 'hmph i'm not gonna tell you what you did wrong, you just have to know :<' bc he can.. y'know.. read your mind

☆ and he also knows exactly what to do to make you feel better and forgive him, every single time

☆ plus you can never stay mad at him for long anyway bc he's just too cute!!

☆ too shy to admit that he wants to spend more time with you so he will use his powers as some sort of excuse

as you're about to leave saiki's room, he lies, 'wait. don't go. i have had a precognition that something terrible is going to happen to you if you do.' 'really?' you raise an eyebrow. 'and what might that be?' he wasn't really ready for any follow up questions so he stutters and thinks of the scariest scenario he can 'toritsuka.' ... 'toritsuka is going to do what? jump me?' 'no. just toritsuka.'

☆ for your birthday or anniversary he does something you call the 'saiki special' where he duplicates himself to give you a full body massage

☆ it's what dreams are made of !!!

☆ but yeah it's a lot of effort so he saves it for special occasions

☆ he would so love to watch trashy reality tv shows with you

☆ but he so uses it against you

☆ like if you are ever studying and are like 'why am i working so hard when you are psychic and can literally set us up for the easy life 😫'

☆ he'll be like.. you know who else never worked hard a day in they're life.. the kardashians!! do you really want to end up like that??

☆ and when you say yes this is the face he makes 😐

☆ dw though bc as i said before he will be in your head during exams so he can help you a little

☆ his love language is actually spoonfeeding you food and desserts

☆ and yes he actually uses his hands opposed to his mind to control the spoon, just to show you that being a psychic doesn't mean he gets to cut corners!

[sarahs-secrets2]

okay doctorˋ♡ˊ

dr jack abbot x resident!reader

jack pulls rank during a shift, angsty with happy ending! obv medical inaccuracies, mean jack but only for a little for the plot :) (not my gif!)

inspired by this tweet/scene

wc: 1.6k

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

“That’s enough,” Abbot’s voice was strong, it hammered through your head.

“Just give me a second, I just need-” 

“You’re done.” Abbot moves behind you, waiting for you to back away. The room falls quiet. Only the sound of beeping monitors echoes through the room. Everyone is too afraid to get in between whatever is going on between you and Doctor Abbot. 

Your eyes are pleading, hoping he’ll just give you a few more minutes with the patient so you can fix it. His gaze is sharp and unforgiving, giving absolutely nothing away as he stands, gloved hands up, ready to take over. 

“Jack,” it slips out, you’re desperate. 

“You’re off the case. Out. Now.” He doesn't even look at you, which is rare, as he moves in front of you to take over the patient. The room has gone cold, along with Doctor Abbot’s demeanor. You’re too embarrassed and upset to argue, and you need fresh air immediately. Jack’s voice echoes orders as you head towards the doors, only stopping at the bin to dispose of the trauma gown and gloves. 

The ER is chaotic, but it was easy to navigate even in your state of agitation. Weaving through nurses and gurneys being pushed through the halls, you almost miss Doctor Ellis calling your name from across the nurses' station. 

“Hey,” she looks concerned but knows better than to push, “You wanna join me?” Her thumb juts over her shoulder.

“I’m…” You think for a second, running your hands down your face, trying to hide your defeat. “I’m good, gonna get some fresh air.”

“Okay.” Ellis, still unsure, lets it go. “Feel free to join when you're ready.” 

You nod back and continue towards the doors of the ambulance bay. The sun still hasn't even begun to rise, you steal a glance down at your watch as the automatic doors slide open as you approach. It’s only 3:14 am, Jack is pissed at you, and you’re not sure if you’ll even survive the rest of this shift. 

The air is cold, and the small gusts of wind don’t help either. Grateful you went with the long-sleeved shirt to go under your scrubs, you tug down the sleeves you had previously rolled up during the rush of the last case. Your hands run up and down your arms, trying to get warm. Going inside wasn't an option right now, not after the debacle with Jack. 

He was frustrating, usually right, but that’s what made him frustrating. He had given you the chance to try, and you failed, but couldn't admit it. Not to him and definitely not to yourself. You hadn't realized it, but you had begun pacing around the ambulance bay. Thankfully, there were no incoming traumas, which gave you plenty of time to mope and replay the events over in your mind. 

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath looking towards the city. Hands running down your face, which feels warm despite being in the cool air. 

“Don’t let a patient hear that, can’t risk our scores getting any lower.” 

His voice makes you jump; it’s low and gravelly, which doesn't help you as you try to decipher his mood. Jack’s hands are stuffed in his pockets as he walks towards you. He’s returned to his normal, intense eye contact, making you squirm. You’re the first to break it, looking down at your shoes, kicking some of the loose rocks near your feet. 

“Ha,” it's a forced, short laugh at his joke. Abbot doesn’t speak, he lets the silence build, making this increasingly difficult for you. You can’t pinpoint what he’s waiting for, and you know he won’t be the first to speak. 

You steal another glance at your watch, 3:21 am. 

“I had it,” your voice is sharp, cutting through the cold air. Your eyes finally meet his. 

“Hm,” it’s all he gives you. His eyebrows are raised, and his eyes look darker outside. 

“I just needed more time.” 

“No,” Jack shakes his head, now his turn to look at the ground for a split second before he looks back up. “You tried, and time was running out. You weren’t putting the patient first. You need to learn it's okay to step away.”

“That’s not true-”

“We are not doing this.” He lets out a dry laugh, but nothing is funny. “You can’t do that, you are a resident. I am your attending,” he pulls a hand out of his pocket and rubs the back of his neck. “You don’t listen, even when I’m lenient and give you the opportunity to learn. You push that boundary.” 

You’re not sure what to say. Jack and you had always been close, and getting closer. Night shifts would end, the two of you would linger at the lockers chatting, walking out together, conveniently heading the same way home, and on the rare occasion, the two of you would stop for a coffee (that you probably shouldn't be drinking if you had a shift the next day). Some nights off you would end up at the same shitty dive bar, sipping cheap beer, talking about things other than work. You had found yourself wanting to be around Jack, maybe that’s why you followed him into the triage room for a case you were unprepared for. 

“And,” he goes on, “You can’t call me Jack, not in front of everyone, not within these walls,” his finger spins around, motioning to the Pitt. 

A beat passes.

“Okay, Doctor Abbot,” you make sure to emphasize the doctor, your face giving nothing away. 

Doctor Abbot sighs, his hands tug on the stethoscope draped around his neck. He squeezes his eyes shut, tilting his head back. Your words sting. He knew what he was saying, but he didn’t expect to regret it instantly. He was rough around the edges. He knew that, but for once, it seemed like someone didn’t mind. You didn’t mind. Yet here he was ruining that, tarnishing away at that trust the two of you had built over the past few months. 

He didn’t even truly mean it. He was in his own head, beating himself up, and it ended up being taken out on you. Abbot knew you didn’t deserve it, he knew you were smart, he knew you were capable, but something about this patient reminded him too much of things he wasn’t ready to visit. Doctor Abbot’s tunnel vision consumed him in moments like these, and he put you, unwillingly, in the crossfire. It was unfair, cruel, and deeply unlike him. Even this conversation outside in the ambulance bay was unlike him. 

You were occupying his brain, making him lose his footing, questioning himself. It’s feelings Jack hasn't felt in a long time. Maybe that’s why he was short with you, maybe that’s why he needed you out of the room to think clearly. 

You’re about to head back inside. Doctor Abbot had said what he wanted to, and you weren’t interested in more of a back-and-forth with him. Just as you brush past him, his hand reaches out, lightly grabbing your arm. 

“Wait,” his voice is low, almost a whisper. You’re closer than normal, your eyes flick up to meet his, making your heart pound. “I didn’t mean that.” 

You know what he means. He doesn't need to elaborate.

“It’s okay,” you offer a nod, and you mean it. You understand Jack in ways others don’t, while it stings, you know how hard these nights can get. It’s an understanding between the two of you, and the bubbling tension seems to reside with a quiet agreement. 

Jack is still holding your arm when the sound of sirens breaks through the moment. The flashing red and white lights illuminate the ambulance bay as Jack pulls you over to the sidewalk. 

“You ready?” he nods his head towards the ambulance.

“Mhm.”

“Good,” he squeezes your shoulder, “It’s all yours.”

“Wait, Doctor Abbot-” 

He’s already headed back into the ER, turning around to offer a double thumbs up. It’s his way of saying sorry, giving you the fresh trauma. Putting his trust back in you. 

The next hours fly by, it’s busy, and you barely get a moment to apologize to Jack for your own behavior earlier in the night. You hadn’t even realized the time until you saw Doctor Robby walking into the Pitt. Your eyes flick down to your watch, 6:50 am. Immediately, your mind goes into autopilot, wrapping up cases, handing them over to the day shift, all while trying to find Abbot before you leave. 

You don’t see him till you're grabbing your bag out of your locker, “Doctor Abbot.” He closes his locker, camo backpack draped off one shoulder as he turns towards you. “I never got the chance to apologize for earlier. You were right, I'm sorry.”

He smiles and lets out a small, teasing laugh, “I usually am right.”

You laugh with him, he’s magnetic in that way, “And thank you for trusting me even though, you know.”

“We both had a moment, and we’re both still learning, we’ll get through this together.” The sincerity of his words goes straight to your heart. “Now let’s get out of here before Robby pulls us onto a trauma.” His serious tone makes you laugh a bit too loudly, resulting in some glances from the nurses' station as the two of you head out.

You and Jack are back outside together, but under much better circumstances. It's not as cold as it was at 3 am, with the appearance of the sun warming your skin as you take in the morning.

Jack takes a deep breath. “You’re off tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, I am.” It’s not a question, but you answer it anyway. 

“Coffee on me, c’mon,” Jack tilts his head down the street, towards your usual coffee spot. 

“But don’t you work tomorrow?”

“I don’t sleep anyway,” he shrugs, bumping his shoulder to yours as the pair of you walk together, falling into your routine. 

You smile, sneaking a glance at him, happy that the two of you are back to normal. “Whatever you say, Doctor Abbot." 

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

[dcxdpdabbles]

I can’t wait to see the next part for passion for fashion! i’m very interested in seeing how Tim handles everything.

Danny scurries across the street as quickly as possible. The flashing hand is counting down, meaning he only has a few seconds before clearing the road. He could wait for the next time it changes, but Danny was already late as it was.

Plus, he was pretty sure he was being followed. Usually, that wouldn't frighten him too severely, but seeing as he had been kidnapped once while in Gotham, it's safe to say this city wasn't exactly safe at all.

He manages to get across just as the light switches from the flashing red hand to a still red hand, and the cars waiting just as impatiently at the white lines roar their engines as soon as green in front of them.

They zoom past him, blaring through the wind at what Danny is sure is unsafe driving speeds. He sighs, pulling up his hood to protect his head from the gentle drizzle that started up. Today he was wearing what Dan called "sports luxe."

Danny thinks it just looked like a skater threw on a jacket over a hoodie, but what did he know? Apparently, not enough to have an opinion on the superiority of sports luxe.

Even the name sounded snobby. Dan threw a fit the moment he pointed it out, though. Sometimes, it was better to agree to disagree with his counterpart.

Danny had felt suffocated within the house lately. Gotham seemed to suddenly develop non-stop rain. It's been heavy rain, a light sprinkle, or threatening rain for a week straight. It was nothing compared to the bright, clear skies of home. How could people stand to live here all the time? It was downright miserable.

The city natives said it was just the first signs of spring, the year's rainy season.

Not to mention, it was a grim reminder that for all the time they had been in this stupid city, they only recently found out who Batman was. He wasn't sure how long Clockwork would be willing to wait, but Danny feared they were getting near an unmentioned deadline.

This morning, he had woken to a clock ticking in his chest. It faded after a while, but Danny had received the message just as loud and clear as the tick tick tick sound was.

There was a very real bomb fused to his core by the God of Time, and he said god was becoming upset with his lack of results. Dan, who had gotten the same message, was seemingly more reserved as he carefully pinned the few fabrics for their next part of the fashion contest.

The silence following their discussion of today's new experimental fashion style had felt choking. Danny had chosen to escape and walk around the city while Dan retreated further into his cave of fabrics. They agreed to meet up for lunch at one pm at the same pizza that Red Robin took him on a date to.

They could gather clues about Batman if they went to where he had shown up.

His date with Tim Drake had been a bust. The man was sweet but seemed too loyal to Batman's secrets. No matter what tricks Danny tried on that date, Tim danced around his probing for any Batman intel like a well-trained ballerina.

He couldn't even get the guy to admit he knew Batman. Either he was the best actor in the world, or Tim didn't know a thing about Batman. Still, the date at the arcade and then dinner had been a relaxing bit of fun.

Something was charming about making someone blush with a mere glance that had Danny feeling on cloud nine. He knows on some level that he is considered hot here, but to witness his effect on someone was something entirely else.

He might have asked for a second date were it not for the man who followed them throughout the date from a distance. Danny noticed him sometime after Tim had shyly offered to buy him some ice cream.

He was taking their picture. As soon as Danny saw him,, he cut the date off quickly. Not only was ita a waste of time if Tim couldn't lead him to Batman, but he also didn't want to drag poor Tim into nanother kidnapping attempt.

Was it a jerk move to cut the date mid-way? Probably.

Did it make him feel like Dash? Uncomfortably so.

But needs most. As soon as Dany told Tim he wasn't feeling well and that he would call him (he didn't), the half had all but run away. The man had quickly followed in step with him, until Danny lost him in the city two hours later.

He returned home with no leads, a new stalker, and the terrier tick tick tick echoing in his rib cage.

Three days later, the same man was back, following Danny from a distance. He was doing a good job staying further away today, but Danny had caught sight of the hummingbird tattoo and realized who it was.

Danny glances at a nearby store window to discreetly check behind him. Sure enough, the same hummingbird flashed briefly as the man reached up to raise his own hoodie.

It's on the right hand, running along the thumb. Danny breathes through his nose, walking as casually as possible but putting more speed into his steps. Around him, people are walking briskly, and his vision is somewhat disorientated by the few umbrellas that are folded open.

He slides through gaps of people, weaving and waving as casually as he can. The distance between the man and him grew bigger, but Danny knew he was still within sight.

He stuffs his hands into his pocket, feeling around for a knife disguised as a comb that Pamela had given him after picking up her new outfit. Danny had to admit that Dan outdid himself with it because she looked like a badass nymph.

Apparently, she heard some whispers that the Fenton twins were a thing of beauty and powerful men were interested in adding them to their collection. Ew.

She said it was better to be safe than sorry while presenting Dan with his own knife. "The world is a nightmare. Be the terror in it, not the victim."

Dan put her words on a poster and hung it in his studio.

Danny glances at another window, feeling his stomach drop when a familiar ticking starts up as the man quickly closes the space between. Somehow, a deep part of his soul knows that should the man catch him, Danny's bomb would be set off.

Breaking into a run, Danny pushed people out of the way, uncaring for the scene he was causing. He heard a curse before footsteps rapidly followed him. Multiple sets of footsteps.

There was more than one.

Crude. crude. crude. Stop ticking! I know I'm in danger! He thinks frantically, pushing his human legs to go faster. He blows his hoodie off his head as he sprints.

His eyes bounce around wildly, searching for anywhere safe, when he lands on an open car door of a nice black car with a man settling in the back as a diver buckles up. Not stopping to think, Danny leaps into it, ignoring the shout of surprise from the man who he landed across the lap.

He hits the diver's seat, babbling, "Drive! Drive! Drive! Please, they're after me! DRIVE"

The man he's lying on reacts fast enough to slam the car door closed just as a large man slams against it. It's someone built like a brick house and looking rather mean as he punches the glass .

Thankfully, the thing must be bulletproof because it doesn't budge. The driver slams his foot on the gas, peeling away from the crowd of kidnappers who attempt to surround the car. They nearly miss slamming into oncoming traffic, but the driver quickly drifts their car into a perfect U and flies off.

Danny gasps, slumping with relief. "Hate this stupid city so much sometimes." He grumbles under his breath, only noticing he spoke in Spanish when the man makes a fumbling sentence in response.

"Er...espanol...un poquito?" The man holds his fingers up, having them separated by only a bit of space.

" I speak English."

"Oh, good. Mind telling me what all that was about, lad? Do we need to go to the police?" The man asks, his voice gentle and warm.

Danny realizes then that he is staring into the face of the man who started the fashion contest. He is also still lying across his lap. With a yelp, he flings himself away, scrambling into the seat beside Bruce Wayne.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Wayne! I was being chased by...um, I don't know actually who they were."

"Bane's men." The driver says grimly in an English accent. "They were wearing the hummingbird of his inner circle."

"Alfred, please take us to Commissioner Gordon." Mr. Wayne commands, face turning hard, and Danny is about to tell him he's fine being dropped at home when suddenly-

"Are you hurt, chum?" Mr. Wayne asks, noticing Danny staring down at his chest pale face. Or maybe it was how he was frozen in place, waiting for a boom that might be coming.

The bomb stops ticking. Danny feels around his chest, wondering why when it clicks in his head.

"Chum?"

He stares into the startled eyes of Mr. Wayne before he feels a sharp prick on the back of his neck. He has a few seconds of whirling around to see the driver- Aflred- settling back in his driving seat. A needle in his hand.

"Are you Batman?" Danny whispers, leaning into Mr. Wayne's face. "

Batman, have you hugged your kids lately?"

"Shit. Here, I thought I escaped a kidnapping."

The world went black, and there was only one thing he was aware of. The sound.

Tic tic tic tic tic tic

[artdcnaldson]

pussydrunk 2006 art eating pussy for the first time and he can't stop moaning into your cunt and grinding against the bed. when he feels you cum on his mouth he drinks it up like he's dying of thirst and cums in his boxers.

Vintage ask that's been in my inbox since September 17th.... oops.......

but sigh.... sweet baby!Art needing to proove himself after he's lost the 2006 Junior US Open final </3 He goes back to your hotel room bc he can't stand the thought of looking at a very Smug Patrick Zweig right now, especially if somehow Tashi winds up in their hotel room, and Art has to suffer through a pathetic, soul crushing sexile.

And it's not like he's super experienced. He's fucked, but it was clumsy and rushed and awkward because he was always afraid that Patrick would ignore the sock on the door and burst in just to be a dickhead.

You're not sharing your room. You're wearing a halter top and low rise jeans and a sparkly scarf as a belt, and you smell like vanilla body spray and dove cucumber deodorant. When you kiss him, you taste like strawberries and cream, licking delicately into his mouth as you pin him beneath you on the bed.

He's never gone down on someone before, but he's watched videos. He's heard Patrick talk about it in any crude way he can. He described the smell, the taste, the way the girls' thighs would close around his ears and trap him there. He's blushing tomato red as he pulls back and looks at you. "Can I eat you out?"

He regrets it the second he asks, terrified that he'll be horrible and sloppy and awful at it, but you nod and he begins to strip you of your party clothes. He kisses the valley between your breasts, the spot below your belly button, a beauty mark near your hip.

He fits himself between your thighs, and leans forward to give a tentative lick. He sighs softly, nuzzling closer, letting his tongue explore the slick, hot flesh. You moan and he feels your thighs tense on either side of him as his tongue flicks over the bud of your clit.

You taste good. Locker room talk had convinced Art that it'd be kind of gross and dirty to eat pussy, but you were so soft and warm and wet beneath him, dripping your juices onto his eager tongue.

He knows he's hard in his jeans, and he's lucky he's on his stomach so you can't tell. He can't help but give in to the urge to rut down against the springy hotel bed, just a little... just to sooth that aching, hungry need.

Your fingers are in his hair, tangled, tugging. You moan louder, throwing your hair back. He wonders if you've ever been eaten out before. If he's doing alright. If he's better. He tries to scan his brain for anything Patrick might have said that wasn't totally disgusting, but he draws a blank. All he can focus on is the taste of you, the smell of you, the pretty sounds you're making.

It doesn't take much to get you there, which only seems to feed his ego. He's rutting against the bed like an animal in heat, moaning against your pussy, licking at you like a fucking meal. "Cumming— 'm cumming—" you gasp in a breathy tone, and he knows he's done for. He tastes your release on his tongue— the slick, heady flavor like heaven. He cums with a gasp, panting against the slick, swollen folds of your cunt as he spills his release into his boxers.

"You're really good at that," you tell him as he rolls over, the wet spot on his pants just as evident as the glistening release on his nose, mouth, and chin. He should be embarrassed, but you don't say anything, so he isn't. You don't comment about returning the favor (you think he's probably out of commission until further notice), so you ask him if he wants to just cuddle and sleep over. He can't think of anything better.

[ssahotchnerr]

I hope you meant it to be dropped here 🥺

So, about jealous Y/n: I had been thinking about this after seeing the episode where Beth (that runner-woman?) appears. I thought about the scene, with "y/n" either getting to know he was handed a paper with a number

Or maybe Aaron and "y/n" had been running together and Beth approaches without any care and reader just is like: 🤨 watching the interaction, lol

knowing you

🤭 cw; JEALOUS fem bau!reader, teasing banter (hehe r and aaron are sooo in love), suggestion/sex allusions (i'm blushing), based off of aaron and beth's first interaction in 7x10 wc; 1.3k

"Okay, okay." You panted, coming to a stop. You directed your voice forward, loud enough for Aaron to hear you, a few feet ahead. You resumed walking, slowly, hands on your hips. "Let's take a breather, yeah?"

"What's wrong?" Aaron asked as he met you halfway, a teasing smirk growing on his face. "Can't keep up?"

"I can keep up jus' fine." You insisted, still catching your breath. The afternoon breeze blew into your face, cooling the sheer layer of sweat that had collected. "Just... not for a prolonged amount of time. There's a," Another staggered breath, "difference."

"Is there?" He asked humorously. His chest rose up and down, regulating his own breathing as well. "I can easily go another mile or two.

"Fantastic. I'm so happy for you." You quipped sarcastically, causing him to laugh and a smile of your own pulling at your lips. "And that's why you're the one participating in the triathlon. Not me."

"You know..." He began proposing in a light tone of voice, eyebrows raised wittingly. "There's still time for you to sign up."

"You know, you're funny." You bantered back, a pained expression pulling onto your face at the mere thought. You shook your head, "I think my time is better spent cheering you on from the sidelines, along with the others. And then reviving you afterwards."

"Oh yeah?" He chuckled, a fondness in his eyes. All banter aside, he switched tactics, softening to a sweet sincereness. "I appreciate you accompanying me. Seriously. You know you don't have to run with me, although you do inspire me to persistent. Gotta impress you, keep you interested."

"Please, as if there's anything you could do to cause me to become uninterested." You poked a finger at his chest. "And if running means I get to spend an extra hour with you, I'll gladly accept. Besides, there's something in it for me too. Makes it all worth it."

"And what's that?"

You looked around, spotting a park vendor supplying drinks, playfully brushing his question aside. "Want a water?"

The warm glint in his eyes lingered, admirably amused. One that read: you were the most difficult person he'd ever met, but he wouldn't have it any other way. "Sure, sweetheart."

"I'll grab it," you began walking, "You stay here. Catch your breath."

Aaron grabbed your hand the moment you had stepped a foot away, smoothly drawing you back with just an equally suave grin. Once in reach, he placed his lips onto yours, interrupting your growing smile.

Your nose scrunched when the two of you parted, "You're all sweaty."

"That's never been a problem before." His smirk returned, the wet cowlicks draped over his forehead bringing a multitude of images to come to mind.

This is why you ran with him. You'd never deprive yourself the hot visual, one you'd never get tired of. The overexertion, the sweat, the defined athletic wear clinging onto his body, the heavy breathing too.

You playfully rolled your eyes, granting him another kiss before you trailed off. You steadied your breathing again, in attempt to slow your heart rate a second time.

Retrieving the waters couldn't have taken you more than five minutes: waiting in a small line, supplying cash, issuing a thank you. But when you turned back towards Aaron, your feet already moving to their own accord, you stopped short - suddenly. As he wasn't alone.

He was talking to some woman - brunette, in workout clothes of her own. Her backside was facing you, so you couldn't see any specific features; to determine who she was, a familiar face or not.

You tried to ignore the uncomfortable sensation of jealousy filling your body, drawing the conclusion that she wasn't an old friend rather quickly. It started from the bottom of your stomach, crawling up your spine, spreading widely to your limbs.

Could it be harmless? Sure, that's what you were telling yourself, until the woman in question handed him a small piece of paper. She began to retreat - finally - causing a breath of relief to escape you, until Aaron calls after her.

When she turns, you're able to see her face. She’s cute, all smiles and outwardly confident. She responds to whatever he said, follows it with a laugh, before continuing her jog. 

You bit your lip, returning to Aaron with a bit more urgency, your ponytail gliding swiftly between your shoulder blades.

"Here," You handed Aaron his water, your gaze moving past him and continuing to watch her leave. As if she can feel your stare, she looks back. Your eyes may have been playing tricks on you, but you could've sworn she gave you a cunning smirk.

Your jaw clenched, nothing but that red-hot jealousy overtaking you. It blocks out all of your surroundings - Aaron's going on about something, but you don't hear him. He's muted, fuzzy, far away. You don't realize he's talking to you until he says your name, with a tad more volume.

You startle, blinking, "Sorry, what?"

"I said, do you want to go again? Or we can take a slow, evenly-paced walk back." His lips turned upwards humorously, taking a drink. "More your speed."

He's attempting to resume the ongoing, fun banter to draw your focus elsewhere, knowing you.

"Who was that?"

"Oh, nobody." He shrugged, securing the cap. "She just, er, handed me this." He explained carefully, holding up a small piece of paper.

He did it quickly; again, making it as nonchalant as possible. But even at the heightened speed you're able to see her number scrawled across the surface.

You immediately impede forward-

"Sweetheart," Just as he expected - he grabs your arm, holding you back from any impending confrontation you were set on.

"She gave you her number?" You looked at him, perplexed. The audacity. "Did you see the way she looked at me? She probably saw us kiss and yet-"

"I know, I know." He comforted, his voice a deep contrast compared to yours, hardening the more you spoke. He can practically feel you vibrating in fury. "Hey, it's okay. I'm discarding it, of course." He crumbled it in his fist, "Have zero need for it."

"But that doesn't excuse what she just did." You try to look past him again, but he uses his body to shield your view. "And I don't like it. Not at all."

"You're right, it doesn't, but it's okay." Aaron presses a kiss to your forehead, muttering his next sentence into your skin. "I'm yours. Nothing changes that."

"Damn right you are," you huffed, crossing your arms. Despite the distance (she's almost long gone by now), you're at the ready to grab Aaron, to kiss him fiercely if she ever so lightly takes a peek back.

"Forget about it, and I don't mean that in a dismissive way. Look at me when I say this," He tossed the paper in the nearby trash, grabbing ahold of your shoulders instead. "I'm uninterested. Unfazed. Utterly in love with you and greatly anticipating showing you how much once we're in the privacy of home. Preferably in the shower, and then again in bed afterwards."

He manages to pry a smile out of you, a blush forming at your cheeks, although it doesn't dissolve your pout just yet. "But..."

"But what?" He asked gently as he releases his hold, swiping his thumb across your cheek soothingly.

"What if she can run faster than me." You mumbled pitifully. You said so half jokingly, half seriously.

Aaron laughed warmly, spanning an arm over your shoulders and pulling you directly to his chest. "I highly doubt that."

"You promise?"

"With every ounce of me."