#i need the next series now i fear

[paradiserotting]

“im so unhappy” i say as the clock strikes twelve (i js need sleep)

[waitmyturtles]

Emotionally, 23.5 (episode 10) is like a cheaply made puzzle, where like, the edges are cut roughly, so like, you THINK that you have the right pieces next to each other, but when you smush them in, and they don't fit QUITE smoothly enough, you're like, oh maybe there's another piece, but like, you CAN'T find another piece that works, because like, the piece you have in your hand IS the piece that is the right one for the picture you're making, or like, you THINK it is, so like, you keep smushing the pieces together, and you THINK the puzzle makes sense, but you kinda feel like you have the wrong piece, or worse, you're MISSING A BETTER PIECE, because everything's NOT QUITE JIVING.

I hope this post made as much sense as the emotional journey we attempted to take with the script in this last episode. What the FUCK is this script doing to Ongsa? A little more context, some smoother edges, would be really helpful here!

[onewordshy]

Wish I could bottle the feeling this gives me

[livingasaghost]

sisyphus had his rock and i have my bookshelves

[kbwrites]

The Lord's Favorite CH.3

Synopsis: “And there you were, lying underneath the terrifying king, a man of immense power and ruthless intent, who would watch the world burn on a whim.”

prev ← → next

⚝content: trueform!Sukuna x f! reader, nsfw, mild language, voyeurism, sukuna has two cocks, pure smut, gentle sukuna

⚝wc: 2.2k

⚝a/n: please the messages I’ve been getting from this series have been so unhinged?? I love it

“I believe your presence is precisely what I crave.”

And you swear your brain ceases to function. When you regain awareness, you find yourself against the black silken sheets of Ryomen Sukuna’s enormous bed. The air is thick with the scent of incense, and the dim light from flickering candles casts long shadows across the room. And there you were, lying underneath the terrifying king, a man of immense power and ruthless intent, who would watch the world burn on a whim.

He looks down at you, two of his strong arms gripping your hips, the rough pads of his fingers digging painfully into your flesh. Your gaze flickers down to his body, taking in the sight of his rippling muscles, flexing with each subtle movement. His broad chest rises and falls at a steady pace, a stark contrast to the thunderous beating of your own heart. His crimson eyes hold a possessiveness, the gaze of a predator stalking its prey, intense and unyielding.

Ryomen Sukuna was alreadyterrifying fully clothed, but his naked form elicited a different fear in you altogether. Two thick cocks stood proud and eager. You try to take in every detail, thick veins running up the sides, flushed angry red tips dripping pre-cum down his monstrous shaft. Your breath catches in your throat, all of your saliva drying up as you force a swallow. His lips curl into a smile that sends shivers down your spine. He lowers his head to your ear, his breath searingly hot against your skin.

“You are aware I do not like waiting.” He growls.

“W… what would you like me to do My Lord?” The uncertainty in your tone is evident. He pulls back slightly, his gaze piercing through you with a mixture of disbelief and dark amusement.

Yes, you were younger than the other women in the castle, most of whom had come to serve after being widowed or hardened by life. But he assumed you’d had some knowledge. He had no need for concubines with no experience, anyone else who would dare enter his chambers without it would be swiftly dealt with. ‘Training pets’ was of no interest to him. But he couldn’t seem to ignore the way his cocks twitched at the thought of being the one who would ruin you. With a swift, almost effortless motion, his four powerful arms shift your position. Within the span of a heartbeat, he flips you over so that you find yourself straddling him, the change in position startlingly abrupt.

You’re momentarily paralyzed, a jolt of panic surging through you. What exactly were you supposed to do now? Theoretically, you knew what was expected, the steps that were supposed to follow, but… how?

༺═────────────═༻

On occasion, you found yourself wide awake during the night, the sound of the bed frame creaking and exaggerated moans muffled through the door connecting your room to Sukuna’s. Of course, Curiosity, that dangerous and ever-present impulse, got the better of you—and you innocently pressed your ear to the door. And of course, your eyes found their way to a convenient crack in the dark mahogany.

‘You should be ashamed, spying on your king’

You cursed yourself as you watched him. He laid on the bed, a woman—who you’d seen enter his chambers multiple times was bouncing up and down on his length. Crying out as her hands rested atop his broad chest. Two arms guided her hips and the other two rested behind his head. Her loud moans of pleasure, a stark contrast between his low grunts. Your hand clasps over your mouth, suppressing your gasps as your own hand reached under your nightgown.

The sounds of skin slapping, squelching, and the woman’s theatrical wails acted as cover to your own quiet moans. As it continues Ryomen's head suddenly turns to the side, eye locking directly onto the door. A menacing smile spreads across his lips. Your blood runs cold as you make direct eye contact with your lord.

You cease your movements, tiptoeing back to your bed. Squeezing your thighs together, to desperately cool the unbearable heat.

“My…. lord… what are you looking at?” She gasps in between thrusts. You only hear a slap before covering your ears and praying it was just coincidence his eyes fell on that part of the room.

And from his lack of mention, you thought you had gotten away with it.

༺═────────────═༻

And now you sit between his two muscular legs, the same way you saw that woman do. Staring down his two thick members. A shaky hand wraps around one, unable to grip him fully. A soft moan escapes his lips as you feel his cock twitch under your touch. You begin to pump slowly, your movements hesitant. 

“Don’t..act so coy, I know you’ve seen this before.” And your heart drops in your stomach. You search for an excuse, a denial, but they all die in your throat. He only grins in response, looking at you through half-lidded eyes. One arm reaches behind your head, gently pushing your face mere inches away from his throbbing length. Your eyes flicker up to him then back down to his angry red tip, after a deep shaky breath you gather some spit in your mouth allowing it to flow onto him. He groans at the sensation, hand gripping your hair tightly. 

You loll your tongue out, smearing the spit and pre-cum around his tip. Your other hand wraps around as well. Sukuna growls as your mouth engulfs him, tongue swirling around his head. He pushes your head down slowly, your mouth stretching at his size. Tears well up in your eyes as he hits the back of your esophagus, sinful gagging noises emanate from your throat. He hums amused.

“This view suits you…” He chuckles lowly as his hands guide your head up and down his shaft. He sets the pace, before letting go of your head. You look up at him through your fluttering eyelashes, the tears pooling in your eyes. Sukuna lies against the plush pillow, hands giving attention to his aching second cock. His breath hitches as his hips buck up, his length pushing even deeper into your throat. A sudden feeling of choking causes you to come up for air, coughing as oxygen finally enters your lungs again. A wave of embarrassment washes over you. 

How pathetic you must look to your king, not even able to provide him with pleasure.

Ryomen grabs your waist, pulling you back under him. His eyes, darken as he pushes his body closer to you. A low thunderous rumble reverberates from his throat as his spit-soaked length finds friction against your stomach. You feel your own arousal pool between your legs as you are overwhelmed with a dangerous mix of fear and desire.

His lips capture yours in a rough kiss, sharp teeth baring down on your bottom lip as his tongue explores your mouth. Your soft moans are swallowed by him as his strong hands roam your naked body. He parts from the kiss, a trail of spit still connecting you two. He looks upon your panting form, without a second thought diving into your neck nipping and sucking at the delicate skin. Two hands grope your breasts, rolling the swollen buds between his fingers. He squeezes gently as you whimper under him, moving his mouth to encircle your nipple. The heat between your core nearing unbearable.

“My.. lord… p-please..” You cry out, his teeth graze your nipple, a warning. He huffs against your skin.

“Do not rush me, woman.” His mouth moves to your other breast. Staring up at the high, ornately decorated ceiling of Ryomen’s chambers, you find yourself drifting into a daze. Suddenly coming to when you feel a rough hand reach between your wet folds. Sukuna purrs lowly, gathering your slick between his fingers. Your gaze meets his once more, you desperately squirm against his hand.

“Already so eager… surely you realize you’ll break if I try to fuck you.” His voice laced with playful menace as his fingers tease your entrance. Your vision hazes as you look up at your king, your bruised lips part taking in shaky breaths in anticipation.

One thick finger enters, pumping into you slowly as you feel your whole body turn to jelly. Sukuna chuckles darkly as you writhe under him, he adds another thick digit giving you just a second to adjust to the slight stretch. You feel a pressure building in your abdomen, similar to the one you felt the night you spied on your king.

“You’re close, aren’t you… How disappointing it's just from my fingers.” He coos bringing his other hand to your throbbing clit. He speeds up his ministrations, slipping in a third finger to bring you closer to the edge. A slight curve upwards is all it takes for your sinful walls to clench around his fingers, your back arches as you are delivered to a place you’ve never been before. The unfamiliar feeling of orgasm, the pleasure of release washes over your body.

Ryomen removes his fingers from you, watching as your hole flutters around nothing, he brings the slick-coated fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to taste the fruits of his labor. You catch your breath as you feel his weight pushing you deeper into the sheets. His crimson eyes bore holes in your soul as he looks down at you with pure hunger in his gaze. One of his cocks rubs between your folds, gathering your arousal. A flash of hesitation crosses your face.

“I do not expect you to take both your first time.” He attempts reassurance. His cockhead rubs up and down, kissing your clit before pushing into your hole. 

He growls as he slowly enters you, feeling the warmth of your walls enveloping him. You wince at the stretch, tears pricking your eyes. His hand reaches to cup your face, thumb wiping away the tears as they fall. He hushes your cries with a gentleness previously unknown to him.

“Relax little one… I hnng am going as slow as possible.” He moans as more of his length is surrounded by you. The way your warm walls clench around his thick cock makes his eyes roll, you were so tight, a temptress made to bring him to his knees. A vision of utter seduction. Buried deep in your pussy, you could ask anything and surely he’d grant every one of your desires. “You.. fucking minx.” He curses as his tip kisses your cervix.

Your hands claw at his chiseled chest as you feel him reach the depths of your cavern. 

“Lord Sukuna! T’much!” Your words come out jumbled and slurred as he begins to thrust into you. His pace slow, painfully so. His face etched with utter concentration as he tries to control his urge to split you open. With each long stroke, you feel every vein as he drags along your walls. Feeling deliciously full as King Sukuna pumps purposefully into your cunt.

“F…Faster please my lord..” You whisper shamelessly, his eyebrow quirks up in amusement.

“You dare…order your king?” He sneers, picking up the pace anyway. His hips stutter as he feels your cunt squeeze around him. Sukuna pulls you up to him, now resting on his heels as his two strong arms hold your back and the others hold your hips in place. Your arms snake around his neck supporting yourself as he pistons into you.

His thrusts become less rhythmic as he nears his breaking point. He grunts louder, his breath quickening.

“You belong to me… fuck… you hear me woman?  All mine. Mineminemine...” He groans and babbles as he delivers one last thrust, his cock twitching as he paints your walls with his hot sticky seed. Your back arches in his hold as you reach your climax. He watches as your body convulses, melting like putty into his hands. He lowers you back onto the mattress, watching as your chest heaves. He slides his cock out of you, still semi-hard now covered in a mixture of your slick and his cum.

You take in the sight above you: his slightly damp pink hair, tattooed arms now bearing tiny welts from your scratches. And the look on his face—his red eyes nearly black from arousal. Gods, you wished you could take a picture, a snapshot burned into your brain for eternity.

He sinks into the space next to you, catching his breath. You are quiet for a moment, mind still reeling from the events that just transpired. Should you stay? Were you meant to just up and leave after? Unease coils in your chest as you sit up, gathering yourself for the short walk to your room before you hear his voice again.

“ Where do you think you’re going?” His voice laced with a hint of annoyance. You glance over your shoulder to see him propped up on one of his hands, his gaze dark.

“I thought you’d want me to—”

“You will stay. You will… sleep here with me.” he commands softly, his grip firm yet gentle as he pulls you onto his broad chest. Your ear presses against his pectoral, the strong, steady beat of his heart thrumming through you like a soothing lullaby. You look up at him, his eyes are closed as he rests his hand atop your head. 

“Sleep…” he murmurs, his voice a deep, husky whisper before his soft snores soon rumble in his chest. You close your eyes as well, drifting off as you lay on the man who’d watch the world burn… for you.

taglist (I added who I could, some blogs were unable to be tagged!! FULL NOW IM SORRY) @quinnyundertow @devastyle @bokuatsubro @alt-her @novembersavior @twinkyjohnson @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @bubb13gumb1tch @kalulakunundrum @flowerpot113 @caratinluv @koyukilove @memers666 @saikilover7878 @smolbeanzzz @byul9158 @shadava @bellinghambby22 @pastelbunnelby @jvg02 @ohmykwonsoonyoung @goldenglow149 @imnotabot28 @s1urpjuic3 @nctislifue @szired @mold-ed @fuyuji-ii @samisfunky @junni-berry @call-memissbrightside @wil10wthetree @iamthehybrid @poemzcheng @00frenchfries00 @greentea-ellie @worldean @klutzylaena @heyheyheyggg @hillmiaxoxo @lashaemorow @kuudere-raia @didielly @thejujvtsupost @malazloje @dumplings4life0520 @kum1ko-chan @paprikaquinn @damnshorty @dumbmi

[sugarplumfairy777]

🧁⊹ ࣪ ˖🍦₊˚⊹♡🍰#iamgodduh

I Am God. It’s time to wake up and realize who you really are. You are God. There’s no more pretending, no more looking outside yourself for answers. You hold the power, you create your reality, and nothing, not a single thing can stand in your way once you fully embrace this truth. The universe doesn’t control you, it responds to you. You are the one who sets the tone. You are the force that shapes the world around you. Stop giving away your power. You are not a victim of your circumstances. You are not waiting for permission from anyone, or some higher being, or a series of events. You are it. You have always been the one in charge. Every desire you have, every dream you want to chase—those things are already yours. They exist because you decided they would. And the moment you choose to own that power, everything shifts. Manifestation isn’t some mystical, out-of-reach thing. It’s you remembering that you have the ability to pull anything into existence. Want something? It’s already done. The moment you believe that, the moment you stop doubting your own divinity, the world around you has no choice but to reflect it. You are the creator, the architect, the god of your own universe. When you own that, everything starts to move in your favor. It’s time to stop questioning. Stop waiting for signs. You are the sign. You are the one who creates. You are the one who bends reality. The universe doesn’t work on its own schedule, it moves when you move. It shifts when you make the decision that you’ve had enough of waiting for things to happen. It’s time to create what you want. Right now. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Now. You are powerful beyond measure. Your mind is the tool that shapes everything. Your energy is the force that calls in everything you’ve ever wanted. And let me tell you something: no one, and I mean NO ONE, can take that from you. You are the divine in human form. There is no higher power. There is only you; god.

Pure consciousness is your natural state. It’s not something you have to work toward or search for. It’s not some far-off destination you’re trying to reach. It’s already inside of you, your god. It’s who you are, right here, right now. The moment you stop identifying with the noise of the world, the distractions, and the endless chatter in your mind, you begin to realize the power that resides within you. Pure consciousness is the space where you are everything and nothing at once. It’s where you drop all the layers that you’ve built around yourself your fears, your doubts, your limiting beliefs and you realize you are the observer of all things. You are the creator, the energy, the force behind every single moment. Inducing pure consciousness isn’t a hard task, but it requires trust. You have to trust in the fact that you are already whole. That you are already powerful. That you don’t need to “do” anything to be worthy of what you want. You don’t need to beg for life to give you what you deserve. You already are the life you want. The more you realize that, the more everything around you begins to reflect it. Your thoughts become clear, your desires become obvious, and your reality shifts effortlessly into alignment with who you truly are. In pure consciousness, there is no need to chase. There is no need for constant action or striving. It’s not about forcing things to happen; it’s about realizing that everything you want is already happening. Your power is in your awareness. The more you become conscious of the fact that you are the creator of your reality, the more everything begins to flow. You align with your desires simply by knowing you are them. Pure consciousness is where you transcend the idea of separation. There is no “outside world” when you’re in it. There’s only you, the infinite, boundless energy that flows through all things. You stop feeling like you’re chasing something because you already are everything you want. You don’t need to force anything. You don’t need to try to become something more. You already are that power. You are the energy that creates worlds. Your mind is the tool that shapes your reality. When you are in pure consciousness, you are in complete alignment with the universe, and everything you desire is already on its way to you. This is not some abstract idea. This is the truth of who you are. Own it. Realize that you are the one who creates. The universe is simply a reflection of your consciousness. There is no higher power outside of you, there is only you. You are the force that shapes reality. When you embody this truth, everything becomes possible. Nothing is out of reach because you are the one reaching. Stop waiting for things to fall into place. Stop looking for external signs. You are the sign. You are the creator of your world. You are infinite. You are everything. You are home. You are “I am”.

[neovillains]

deathbed ── a series.

FUCK THAT OLD MAN UNTIL HE'S ON HIS DEATHBED.

syn. you always had a thing for older men. your therapist says it's your underlying want for a proper father figure to love you. you say it's because they're hot.

── featuring gojo satoru, nanami kento, toji fushiguro, and sukuna ryomen as gilfs. fem-bodied!reader, high age gaps, each chapter will have their separate warnings, etc.

note. writing this solely because i need to fuck these men as old men! dilf status isnt enough!

OLD MAN NEXT DOOR : GOJO SATORU

the old man next door always seemed so lonely. you thought you were doing him a favor when you offered to spend some time with him. and in some sorts . . . you were.

HE'S NO DEADBEAT : NANAMI KENTO

nanami believed he raised his son well, only for him to turn into a deadbeat right in front of his eyes. don't worry, he'll make it up to you.

NO INTEGRITY : TOJI FUSHIGURO

you never typically accepted male clients, but after being the only one left in the office, you let your fear consider your safety. and now... you're kind of grateful for it.

BILLIONS : SUKUNA RYOMEN

why worry about finances when you could have a man do it for you? when a girl friend of yours shows you the ropes of an app dedicated to finding a sugar daddy/mommy, you thought it'd be easy as pie. however, yours makes you work for it.

vip access ── thank you for your interest in the series. for better services & to receive notifications for chapters, please subscribe to the series !

film credits ── thank you @chrollogy for such a nice banner !

[bloomzone]

2025 : #1 be disciplined

[ the 2025 glow up serie ? Click here !]

Motivation feels amazing, doesn’t it? It’s like a spark—a burst of energy that pushes you forward. But what happens when the spark fades? That’s where discipline steps in. It’s the routine you build, the habits you cultivate, and the consistency you stick to even on days you don’t feel like it.

So, instead of waiting to feel ready, discipline says, ‘Let’s go, regardless.’ It’s the engine that turns dreams into reality.

"Ask urself right now: What’s one thing I can commit to daily in 2025? Write it down. Small steps lead to giant leaps."

1.Building Your Disciplined

How do u stay disciplined? Start with these three small steps:

✒️.Growth is not supposed to feel good. You’re going to hate it. You’ll feel like quitting more times than you can count. That’s normal. Growth is built in the moments where you want to give up but don’t.

1. Create Clear Goals: Be specific. Instead of saying, ‘I’ll study more,’ say, ‘I’ll study history for 30 minutes every evening.’ BUY A SMALL NOTEBOOK AND WRITE ALL UR GOALS WITH SMALLER ONE TO BE MORE PRODUCTIVE

2. Track Progress: Whether it’s journaling or using an app, tracking helps you stay accountable.

3.Master Your Mindset: Stop waiting to "feel motivated." Understand that motivation is fleeting, but discipline is reliable. Every time your brain tells you to quit, remind yourself: your emotions don’t run the show—your goals do.

2.Excuses Are Lies

Excuses are lies you’ve sold yourself to stay comfortable. 'I’m too tired.' Lie. 'I don’t have time.' Lie. 'I’m just not motivated.' Biggest lie of all.

Here’s the truth: You’re scared. Scared of failure, scared of discomfort, scared of how much effort it takes to change. But let me tell you something: Fear is temporary. Regret is forever. Which one do you want to live with?

No more excuses. You don’t need more time. You need more discipline. You don’t need motivation. You need action. Stop talking about what you want and start doing the work to get it. Right now.

3.look at yourself in the mirror

Look yourself in the mirror tonight and ask: Am I proud of the choices I made today? If the answer is no, fix it tomorrow. And if the answer is still no, fix it the next day. Don’t let yourself off the hook.

2025 isn’t your year unless you make it your year. Stop expecting change to happen to you. You are the change. Get out of your head, get off the couch, and get to work. The only thing standing between you and the life you want is your own laziness. Crush it.

4.Action Plan for a Disciplined Life

Stop acting like you’re doing enough when you know you’re not. If you want that dream college, that perfect GPA, or that career you keep fantasizing about, you need to stop wasting time and follow a real plan. Get up the second your alarm goes off—no snooze, no excuses. Tackle the hardest, most uncomfortable task first thing in the morning because procrastination is for quitters. Create a non-negotiable schedule and stick to it like your life depends on it, because it does. Eliminate every distraction: delete the apps, unfollow the nonsense, and stop treating your phone like your best friend. Hold yourself accountable—write down your progress every day. If you didn’t do anything to move forward, face the fact that you’re the problem. Plan your next day before you sleep, so you wake up ready to win, not wander. And for the love of everything you want in life, stop choosing comfort over progress. Your excuses won’t get you that GPA, that acceptance letter, or that dream job—but discipline will.

breaking this into chunks

1. Kill the Snooze Button: Get out of bed the moment your alarm goes off. No "just 5 more minutes." Those 5 minutes are the difference between starting strong and losing the day.

2. Start With the Hard Stuff: Tackle your most challenging task first thing in the day. Procrastination is your enemy—eat the frog and move on.

3. Create a Non-Negotiable Schedule: Block out specific times for studying, working out, or any critical task. Treat these blocks like appointments with your future self—don’t cancel.

4. Cut Out Time-Wasters: Delete apps you waste time on. Unfollow distractions. If you spend hours scrolling or binge-watching, you’re digging your own grave.

5. Build Accountability: Tell someone your goals and have them call you out when you slack. Better yet, make it public—you’ll hate embarrassing yourself in front of others.

6. Track Progress Daily: Write down everything you’ve done that day to move closer to your goals. If you haven’t done anything, face the hard truth: you’re slacking.

7. Plan Tomorrow Tonight: Before you go to bed, write out your next day’s schedule. If you wake up without a plan, you’ve already lost.

8. Say No to Comfort: Skip the cozy excuses. If it’s not pushing you closer to your goals, it’s holding you back.

Discipline is the foundation of every success story. It’s not about luck, talent, or fleeting motivation—it’s about showing up, doing the hard work, and making the right choices every single day. If you want to achieve your dreams, you need to stop waiting for the perfect moment and start building habits that get you closer to your goals. Cut the excuses, own your failures, and take control of your life. The road to greatness isn’t easy, but every sacrifice, every uncomfortable moment, and every disciplined action will take you one step closer to the future you deserve. You either make it happen, or you watch someone else do it. The choice is yours. The clock is not waiting for u !

@bloomzone ✒️

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑻𝒘𝒐 𝑰𝒔 𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝑶𝒏𝒆*

Pairing: Snake!Hybrid Hyunjin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Snakes! Mentions of Blood/Stitches, Fork/Split tongue, Oral(F), Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Biting, Two Dicks (kinda double P), Sorry for any mistakes or Missing warnings!

A/N: My animal knowledge really shows here😂

Series Master List

-🖤

It was rare to see snake hybrids. A lot of them hid in fear of how others treated them. Humans were mean creatures, especially to things they fear. They knew that all too well, so seeing a snake hybrid brought into your adoption center was strange. His scales were flakey, eyes stuck with shed. You could tell whoever had him didn’t treat him well.

No one wanted to be near him most of your colleagues staying away some even squealing. However you weren’t scared, did you like snakes? Not particularly, but you knew he needed help. When you approached him in the little container he was in he hissed. You quickly shushed him picking him up to take him to the sink area. You had run him a small bath, just some water for him to soak in. “I can’t believe you’re touching that thing” someone streaked at your side.

“It deserves the same amount of love and compassion as any others here” you retort looking down at him. You cleaned him up helping the stuck shed off before putting him back with a heating lamp.

“Y/n will you take it home?” Your manager had asked.

“Why don’t you want it here?” You glared.

“Listen, most of us don’t like them. He’s probably not gonna get adopted and we also aren’t equipped to take care of him properly. You at least seem to know what you’re doing.” They rambled.

You looked back down at the snake who was now curled up by your hand. “Fine, I’ll take it home, however.” You said with a small pause. “He’s mine as soon as we leave and I want the next few days off to take care of him and help him settle.” You stated.

“Of course-“ your manager started to say before you interrupted him.

“Paid” you said sternly.

With a sigh knowing he wasn’t gonna win he agreed just wanting that thing out of the building.

You put him in your spare room, getting the necessary stuff for his set up. You watched as he explored smiling to yourself. “Listen, I know you understand me. So whenever if ever you wanna become human. This room is yours. You have free roam where ever. You’ll be safe here, and taken care of” you kept talking.

He laid under the heating lamp listening carefully. If he could laugh he would. He’s heard that before. Knowing damn well his last owner started off with “love” but quickly forgot about him. He never got comfortable enough to turn so what made you think he would here he wondered.

As days went on you grew fonder of him, seeing some of his goofy personality shine through. His scales looked a lot healthier, a beautiful dark shade with glints of goldish color in them. They matched his beautiful piercing gold eyes. He hissed at you a lot however never making any attempt at striking. After shifts at work you’d pick him up out of his tank, laying him on the couch as you watched tv. It was one of these nights that it changed.

You had done your normal taking him out laying him on the couch with a heating pad beside if he got to cold. He stayed there as you cooked dinner only to be startled from his sleep by a crashing sound. He could smell blood in the air his fork tongue flickering at the scent. “Fuck!” He heard you yell from the kitchen with a bit of rustling. He was scared something had happened that someone broke in. In his panic turning ‘human’. He ran into the kitchen only to see you on the floor holding your hand that was gushing blood.

“What the hell happened?” He said making you jump. He looked at you realizing he was ‘human’.

“You turned?” You said almost excitedly.

He couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh “that shouldn’t be the focus right now, you’re literally bleeding” he said before grabbing a clean towel to wrap it around your hand.

You watched him looking over his features. He had a sharp jawline, slim but muscular physique, those gold eyes even prettier. When he started talking your eyes found themselves on his pillowy lips. You could see the small peak of fangs and to your surprise his tongue was split. You were just in awe taking him in not even realizing he was talking to you. Not until he lifted your head with his warm hand. “Hello? Are you listening? You probably need stitches” he said looking at you were furrowed brows.

You only nodded eyes still scanning over him. You grabbed your phone off the counter with your other hand calling your neighbor. He came over taking you to the hospital and you did in deed need stitches.

Your snake hybrid cleaned up the mess. He finished making the dinner you were working on before it happened and sat there. Waiting. Agonizingly waiting. When you came through the door he smiled sighing in relief. “Hey! Thanks for cleaning and- wait you finished dinner?” You said surprised.

“Yeah, how’s the hands?” He said.

“Ah well it’s not bleeding anymore” you said with a laugh.

“I can’t believe you cut yourself that deep, what were you doing? Dancing with the knife?” He teased.

“No this was all just a scheme to see if you’d come to my rescue” you teased back making him roll his eyes. “Since I can properly ask you now though, what’s your name?” You asked siting down at the counter.

“Hyunjin.” He said.

“Good now I can stop calling you snakey” you said laughing.

After that moment Hyunjin didn’t turn back for the most part. Sometimes you’d fined him curled up under his heating lamp, other times he’d be curled up on the couch under lots of blankets. Your routine continued coming home, cooking, sitting on the couch with him just watching tv. Now though, he talked back. He got into the habit of curling up against you when you came home. Your body’s heat always feeling so nice to him.

You came home today more exhausted than normal though. A fight braking out between some hybrids at work. You being in the middle of it when it happened. Today honestly wasn’t as normal as you thought. All the hybrids were acting weird around you. A lot more possessive and clingy. When you walked through the door thinking about it more you realized hyunjin hadn’t came out from his tank.

“Hyune, are you ok?” You asked leaning down over the tank. When he didn’t budge you picked him up like normal his skin scales feeling warm. He hissed at you baring his fangs. “Are you mad at me?” You said softly, making him stop. He slithered up your arm before slithering down your leg. He made his way to the bed before turning back to his human like form.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke. “I’m not mad at you. Ugh” he groaned. “Do you realize you’re ovulating?” He said with a loud groan.

“Am I? Is that why everyone’s been so weird today?” You questioned.

“Probably- god I don’t know how you went to work with all of them. You’re supposed to be mine” he said the end of his sentence trialing off.

“I am yours” you said quickly with out realizing your own words impact.

“Yeah?” He said looking up at you. Those gold eyes had a hint of something in them. “Then let me make you mine.” He said before grabbing your arm pulling you to him.

He didn’t give you anytime to protest before kissing you, his lips warm softer than you’d imagine. His kiss was hungry tongue quickly making its way into your mouth. His hands came down pulling your bottoms down quickly in one swift motion. He was moving so fast, his motions only driven by need. The need to have you all his, a primal need. His sharp fangs grazed your bottom lip as he moved down your neck. It was almost like he was a little vampire with those fangs. He kissed down your body, pulling your thighs up to him.

He licked his lips looking at your dripping cunt “she’s calling me” he said with a smirk before diving into your core. His fork tongue feeling way different from anything you’d ever had before. Both the muscles moving on their own as they lapped at your folds. His fingers came up to graze against your slick before pushing them into you. He curled them hitting a sensitive spot. The moan you let out only drove him to keep doing it. To hear it again and again. Your hands found their way to his long soft locks.

“Fuck Hyune” you moaned out.

“Feel good? Gonna cum on my tongue?” He said with a devilish smile.

You nodded making that smile only grow. He picked up his speed fingers finding another even more sensitive spot. With his pace and tongue lapping at your clit your high crashed quickly over you. Walls tightening around his fingers. He licked a long strip up eyes staining into yours. He wanted to keep going, wanted to keep tasting you all over him but he needed to be inside you. Fuck your smell alone was gonna make him nut in his pants.

He stood up pulling down his pants revealing his two curvy cocks. With shock, eyes widen you blurted out “you have two?!”

He couldn’t help but laugh “yeah, you didn’t know? Thought you read up on me” he said. He took your hand wrapping it around the bigger one “this one’s the main one, and th- this one” he stuttered as your hand grazed the smaller one “this one is super sensitive like your clit” he said.

You nodded staring intently at his cocks. He leaned you back pressing his body against your kissing you deeply. He slowly pushed himself into you, the smaller cock rubbing against your clit. He let out a hiss of pleasure before his mind went. He started pounding into you mercilessly. His smacking against yours. The sounds of moans and skin smacking filling the air with the scent of sex. He had his head buried in the crook of your neck his long fangs grazing so gently at it. “I shouldn’t even let you leave smelling this good, all of them got their gross scent on you.” He hissed. “I’m gonna make sure they know you’re taken.”

His thrusts continued fast before he gripped at your legs pressing them against your chest before drilling into you. The new angel letting him hit at your cervix. “Hyunjin!” You screamed hands coming up to touch his chest. He pulled out fully before pushing hard back into you however he felt bigger. You felt more pressure in your core like somehow his cock grew a size. The pornagraphic sound he let out made your eyes snap open looking down you realized why he felt bigger. His smaller cock has slipped in, your cunt sucking both of them so greedily.

“Sh-shit I- I- fuck!” His head rolled back not being able to even speak at the pleasure. The warmth overtaking his smaller cock making it twitch in over stimulation. He snapped his hips back one more time both cocks pushing deep inside of you before you were Cumming. Cumming harder than you have ever before. His body shook at the feeling. Your walls tightening more and more around him. He gripped at your hips harshly digging his nails into you. He cried out as his release finally spilled out painting your walls white.

When you stared to squirm a bit trying to adjust yourself, the movement pushing him deeper into you making him whimper. “D-don’t move” he pleaded. You realized his smaller cock was still hard. You smirked up at him before moving away only to push back on him. He gasped almost like the wind was knocked out of him. His hands tried to stop your movement but one more push back his smaller cock was cumming.

He had the most intense orgasm, his body shook body falling to the side of you. He tried regaining his breath “I’ve- I’ve never- with my smaller” his words coming out choppy but you knew what he meant.

You pushed some of his hair back kissing him softly. “M’sorry for- I should have asked” he said still out of breath.

“It’s ok hyune honestly after today kinda needed it” you said with a smile.

“Gl-glad I could help.” He said nuzzling his head into your neck. His breathing was still heavy as you stroked his back.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget @jehhskz @babigriin @kkamismom12 @jeonginsleftcheek

[poguehearted77]

Co-Star Confessions

Pairing: Actress! Reader x Drew Starkey

Co-Star Confessions-> The cast takes you along on a trip to take a lie detector test for an interview. The jokes are rolling and the tea starts to spill.

Summary: A lie detector, a dark room, and unspoken tension pull you into a whirlwind of revelations, where secrets are spilled, emotions run high, and your growing romance with Drew becomes impossible to hide.

Belongs to my: OBX Season 5: Payback for Maybank Series

These can be read in any order!

"Okay be honest, who else went on a deep dive of doom last night and watched all of Blackbox's previous interviews?" Madelyn turns from her place in the passenger seat, facing you, Madison and Chase so you can hear her question clearly.

All hands go up. The anticipation is high and circling in the car. Today the cast has split up into two cars as you're being shipped off to another studio to record an interview with Blackbox.

"Some of those questions were brutal, and you're hooked up to a lie detector so there's no chance you can avoid the truth." Chase lets out a weighted breath, his mind running off with the possible questions they could ask. There's a small sprout of fear blossoming around the possibility they'll pry open closed doors about his and Madelyn's break up. 

The concept is simple: Prior to the interview, Blackbox has done their own research and collected some surface-level, intermediate, and mildly invasive questions that the fans of the show are circulating online. One by one, the cast will sit in the empty black room with no one but the polygrapher and a lie detector, the questions get asked and if you're telling the truth you get a point, if you're lying you lose a point.

The castmate with the most points at the end gets to ask any co-star any question of their choice.

"I can't believe I let Madison drag me into this." You scoff and all she does is smile bright and innocent. It took some convincing of the producers but she's very persuasive when she needs to be.

"We're family now. If we go down, so do you." Chase holds your hand and gives it a condescending squeeze. "I take that as a threat." You snatch your hand away and everyone laughs.

As you arrived, it seems the car with Carlacia, Drew and JD had beat you guys there. Their driver was already pulling off the lot, telling you the others were inside. You got out of the car behind Chase and adjusted your clothes.

Today, your stylists had picked out a white long-sleeve shirt layered under a sleek black vest, paired with a gray mini skirt, black sheer tights, a small shoulder bag, delicate gold acccesories, and a sleek pulled-back pony-tail for a perfectly polished look.

You could already hear the chatter from the studio from out in the hall as you entered the room behind Madison, more chatter erupting as the full cast is reunited. You did your rounds to greet the others you hadn't been riding with. "You look great," Drew compliments as he briefly rests his head atop yours during your hug. You fit in his arms as perfectly as a puzzle.

His pathetic instincts allowed him to take a deeper breath to get a stronger pull of your gentle perfume that intoxicated his mind. "I don't remember getting a compliment from you this morning!" Carlacia accuses him playfully and he laughs along before flattering her endlessly and you thought it was cute.

There’s no denying it. From the very beginning, you and Drew have danced around the unspoken tension, the sparks that have lingered just beneath the surface. But lately, those sparks have started to feel dangerous, like a fuse waiting to ignite. The two of you can’t be left alone for long—what starts as two chairs between you inevitably narrows to one, and then, before you realize it, none at all.

One second you're both rehearsing lines in the studio-b trailer and the next you're passed out on the couch side-by-side. Even though that only happened once, it was more than enough. You've blown through nearly two-thirds of filming the final season and it was easy to consider Drew one of your closest friends, both on and off-set.

There were late-night phone calls, early morning face-times, minimal texting since he hardly replied to his messages but lots of heated glances that shouldn't make you feel as hot as they did. Like right now.

Madelyn is currently removing a piece of lint that had fallen onto your hair from god knows where, meanwhile, you pretended you couldn't feel Drew's deep gaze from behind Madelyn's head, but you shook it off. You had to.

It wasn't long before you're all being ushered to take your seats in the black room, getting ready to record your introduction which will be the only time the whole cast is in the black room together for the interview.

"We're the cast of Outer Banks and welcome to Blackbox." You all say, introducing yourselves personally then retreating to the holding room where there are five chairs, a one-way glass looking into the black room and a microphone.

The assistants spun a wheel which decided that JD is the first one up on the chopping block. "Keep the questions pg-13, please. I've got family that's gonna see this." He pleads, letting himself be strapped into the chair and hooked up with the various components of the detector. Meanwhile, you took the seat in the holding room between Carlacia and Drew.

"So he really can't see us?" Madelyn questioned, waving to JD through the window, but he was unresponsive. "All he sees is a mirror, but when you use the microphone, he can hear your voice in the speakers in the room." One of the cameramen explains and you all nod along.

"Okay, Madelyn, you're first to read the questions. Pick up one cue card from the surface-level, intermediate and invasive stack and project your voice into the mic." She's directed but you all listen for when it's your turn.

Madelyn: "JD, What's your favourite memory from filming season 5 Outer Banks so far?"

He jolts a little in his seat, not expecting to hear Madelyn's voice so clearly in a room where he can't see her, but he answers nonetheless.

JD: When Chase and I were rehearsing that scene where we have to hang-glide off a cliff but Chase's hands slipped and he misses the bar, and he just goes falling to the foam platform like twenty feet below us, but it wasn't even that. It was the scream he let out. I still think about it.

"He's telling the truth." The woman informs.

Chase has his head in his hands while you and Carlacia hold onto eachother, laughing until you're gasping for air.

Madelyn picks up the top cue card from the intermediate pile.

Madelyn: Which castmate are you closest to?

"Oooh." There's a collective sound that sweeps across the studio, it made everyone uneasy, not because of the question. It's a difficult question and everyone knows there are no hard feelings involved but if this is an intermediate question then you should all be nervous.

JD sighs, "You know what-- Unstrap me." He pretends to grab at the wires and it elicits a round of laughs while he thinks about it.

JD: This is hard. I feel like I have such a different relationship with everyone, but..... uhhh... If I had to narrow it down, I guess probably Madelyn.

There's a long silence, everyone waiting for the polygrapher to confirm or deny. "He's telling the truth."

Madelyn: "It must be fate that I'm the one asking your questions. Luv ya. Now, for your final, invasive question. You recently implied in an interview that you're seeing someone, is that true?"

Your hands clasp over your mouth. "Brutal," Carlacia whispers under her breath while you and Drew lean over the edge of your seats as if you didn't already know the answer to this question.

"No." He denies it, another stomach-churning silence. You can see the nerves rolling down JD's face as he waits for the results. "That was a lie." The crew is making some indistinct noise while the cast is stunned to silence. None of you were going to make it out of this interview alive.

JD's head falls with a guilty grin, dreading the news this would spread in the press. He almost immediately unlatches himself from the machine and enters the waiting room with the rest of you, sending in Chase.

"That shit is intense. It's just so dark, and ominous, and you've got a spotlight on you. Makes you feel like you're on trial for a crime you didn't commit." Drew stands to give him a pat on the back, "You did good, man. Hopefully Maya isn't too blindsided by that last question."

Maya is JD's secret girlfriend, official as of last month, you've met her a handful of times but you clicked almost instantly and often texted on Instagram and shared reels.

The game went on, and the questions didn't get any easier. You watched as you all trickled in and out of the rooms, getting paired off in an order something like this:

Madelyn asking JD

Drew asking Chase

Carlacia asking Madelyn

Chase asking Y/N

Y/N asking Madison

Madison asking Carlacia

JD asking Drew

There's an acrylic nail poking your shoulder and you shudder. "You're up," Carlacia informs you and you nearly vomit. The questions have been ruthless thus far, you honestly wonder how and why the producers approved this.

"Hey Madison, this is for you." You hold up your middle fingers, regretting ever letting her get you involved in this bloodbath. She blows you a kiss and wishes you luck.

Chase: "Y/n-"

You're not sure what it is about it, but you and Chase have had enough bloopers on set, that this felt no different, even though you couldn't see him, you broke out in laughter. Before the mic cut out you heard Chase's abrupt laughter cut through.

This is how you two always were. Unable to keep it together. The directors hated when you had a scene together (even though they'd laugh too). "Okay okay, I'm sorry. I'm ready." You reassure, "That was a lie", The polygrapher debunks your confession and it sends everyone rolling for another five minutes due to its spontaneity.

"Okay. For real this time." You clear your throat, waiting for Chase to start with the questions.

Chase: "If you weren’t acting, what would your job be?"

"Ooh, I love photography, my phone is always gonna be in your face, and I've got like a dozen cameras. So, probably a photographer." You answer. The question is light, but it doesn't erase the uneasy feeling bubbling in your stomach. "True."

Chase prepares to move on to the intermediate stack of cards, shuffling them, just for fun.

"Here we go," Madison leans over to JD, they both knew there were bound to be some wild cards for you and Drew. Ever since your casting as Piper was made public not too long ago, the fans immediately flocked to find all your socials.

The rumours between you and Drew were already starting to spin. All stemming from one photo added to one of Carlacia's many photo dumps a few weeks ago. The image is of you playfully feeding Drew a strawberry from when you'd all done some sightseeing and visited the local Portuguese farms.

Chase: "Fans noticed you recently reposted a TikTok that said, 'When he’s tall enough to climb like a tree>>'—was that just for laughs, or did you have someone in mind?"

Your hands raise to your face and you scream, Madison screams, JD laughs, Madelyn kicks her feet while Carlacia gasps--Simply put, the cast is overcome.

Drew straightens a little, now more intrigued than ever (as if he wasn't before). His eyes sparkle with hope? Interest? Certainty. A subtle wave of confidence runs down his spine as he confirms to himself that you're talking about him. You both know it, and you've never been so glad that you couldn't see his face.

"My TikTok account is private how did they even-?!"

Chase: "Answer the question Ms. Y/n."

You could hear his smirk through the mic. Oh, he was enjoying this too much. You made a mental reminder to send Kelsea all the worst images that you've taken of him. "It was just for fun," you shrug.

"That was a lie", You knew it was coming, honestly, but at least you tried.

Chase: "You've recently been cast as the lead in a new rom-com called The Love Equation set to release in 2026, congratulations."

Chase prefaces the question with the recent news that was unveiled to the public merely a few days ago. It was a very recent endeavour of yours.

Not long after you started filming for Outer Banks, you'd received a call back from this project and filming was set to start a little after the OBX premiere which is a little less than three months away.

"Thank you, thank you. I'm very excited and grateful for the opportunity." You say, pretending you weren't dreading the question that's soon to follow. Chase's flattery made you nervous, regardless if he was just reading what was on the card.

Chase: If you could pick any castmate to star alongside you in a rom-com, who would you pick?"

Drew's jaw locks at the question. His grip on the arm of the chair tightens subconsciously as he watches your every move. From the way you looked up at the ceiling, pretending to think to your left foot pacing an unsteady rhythm.

All while Madison was watching Drew, a small smile creeping up on her lips. She needed no further confirmation from the two of you, your body language was loud enough. To her, at least.

"Drew." You say nothing more, nothing less. You don't want to fan the flames that fans have already sparked to life from a simple picture. "She's telling the truth." Yeah, obviously, but you don't say that out loud.

The time seems to fly now that your turn had passed and finally, it's Drew's turn. Deep down you've been waiting for this all day, but if you're being honest, you're a little scared for him.

Drew has one of the biggest and most blunt fanbases of the cast. You've seen how they can get sometimes, you've read the TikTok comments and seen the X threads. Hopefully, nothing gets taken out of context or blown out of proportion.

JD: "What’s your favorite way to unwind after a long day of filming?"

His lips pucker a little in thought, and it dawned on him. "I recently got gifted like, an ungodly amount of bubble bath, but I've actually been using them lately. So, I'll say a nice, hot bath, yeah."

The polygrapher confirms that his statement is in fact true and the round progresses.

JD: "If you had to be stuck on an island with one of your castmates for 24 hours, who would you pick—and what would you two do to pass the time?"

Drew fights the grin on his face, "I'd say Chase, we would go hang-gliding-" He's hardly able to get the sentence out before he's interrupted by his own cackles.

Chase adds his own thoughts into the mic, "You know what, Drew, fuck you, okay?" Chase states before returning to his seat while Drew chokes over his laughs to deliver an insincere apology. "That was true." The room erupts with more laughter at that.

JD: "Your final, invasive question, have you ever secretly dated or hooked up with someone from a movie/show you've worked on, including this one?"

The entire studio goes pin-drop silent. Madison's hand reaches out to hold yours, for comfort, or maybe support? Your eyes are glued to the window that shows a nervous Drew, the most nervous you'd ever seen him. He's starting to sweat.

The two of you have never hooked up, but now you're curious. You would get to find out if he's gotten involved with other girls he's worked with before. Was everything he did just an act? Was it a thing he did with everyone?

"I have not." He answers.

There's silence.

The polygrapher is doing it on purpose, you're sure of it.

...

....

........

JD turns around to face you all and whispers, "Guys, I'm literally shaking for him. Look!" He held out his hand with the card, and it showed a true reflection of his words.

"That is..." She drags out the verdict.

The anticipation got so bad you've all somehow ended up standing, you all might as well press your noses up against the glass.

"True."

The cheering is loud when it swallows the holding room. It's almost shameful how much of a weight you felt lifted off your shoulders at the declaration. Drew is the only one to have told the truth for all three questions, giving him 3 points. He wins.

"Now, Drew. You get to ask any co-star any question you'd like." One of the crewmates instructs as they had you all lined up in the room under Drew's judgement. He stalked along, looking everyone in the eyes, yours lasted a little longer than he was willing to admit but he eventually stopped on Madison.

"Madison, Madison, Madison." Drew taunted in the mic and she rolled her eyes with an all-knowing grin.

Drew: "Not too long ago you were disrespecting my childhood delicacy, the uncrustable. Now, there are rumours going around that you've been seen with them lately, is it true?"

Small giggles were let out around the room. Drew is unbelievable.

"Yes." Madison whispers, looking off to the side.

Drew: What was that? I'll need you to speak up.

Madison: Yes! It's true. Satisfied?

Drew: Very. No further questions, your honour.

You all film the closing sequence, reminding the audience the final season will be released on Netflix on August 30th and September 25th, 2025.

You're all making your way out to the cars. The original groups naturally switched up as you all jumped into the car with people you were in conversations with as you left the studio. This time it's you, Drew, JD and Madelyn.

"Wow, that was lowkey worse than I thought it was going to be." JD admits from the passenger seat and you snicker. Without even realizing it, your head was laying on Drew's shoulder, feeling the sleepiness begin to settle in after an eventful afternoon.

"All that drama genuinely drained the energy from my body." You yawn, and Drew subtly shifts so that you'd find more comfort in him, and you snuggle up just a little more. This is a feeling he could get used to.

Taglist: @percysley, @lilithblackkk, @rafegf-real, @eternallovers65, @drsza, @wearemadeofstardust0, @cadhlabear, @thepopcultureaddict, @citr0us, @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account, @madi44444,@willowpains, @riaras-everthroner, @iteuosav

[pathologicalreid]

for the fear of falling apart | part one

after hearing her gunpoint confession, your sister pressures you into airing your grievances at Rossi's wedding

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

series masterlist

who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst content warnings: takes place following/during 14x15 "truth or dare", fem!reader, established relationship, mentions roslyn, unresolved conflict, a lot of insecurity, cm violence, i think everyone has a fault in this word count: 2.47k a/n: so this idea popped into my head. i think the concept of spencer dating jj's younger sister is insane and i love it. i hope you like it as well. (i want to write a part two so bad i hate leaving things unresolved). also this is not jj hate that's my girl i loved her even before i loved spencer!!!!

“Please, can you just hear me out?” Your sister pleaded, keeping her voice low so you didn’t take any attention off of the bride and groom.

Bringing your glass to your lips, you shrugged, “I’m not sure this is the right place, Jennifer,” you murmured, looking across the room at your brother-in-law, “I think Will’s looking for you.”

She brushed off your dismissal, “I’ll go over once we figure this out. Let’s go out to the courtyard and talk.”

JJ reached out and gently gripped your elbow, trying to guide you through the French doors of the wedding venue, but you yanked your arm away, crossing your arms in front of your stomach. “It’s rude to leave now, this is a wedding, we’re guests here,” you scolded her, focusing your eyes forward. The ceremony was over, and everyone was mingling, but you refused to be the first to leave. Besides, going home would mean needing to face Spencer – another discussion you didn’t have the energy for.

You knew she hated leaving things unfinished. The both of you could feel the rift between you growing as if the earth was physically shifting beneath your feet. “It would just be for a second,” she urged.

Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “It’s fifteen years of dirty laundry, Jayg. It’s going to take more than a second to air it out.” You frowned into your newly emptied glass before hauling yourself over to the bar, grateful that she didn’t follow, “Can you make me one of the pink glittery drinks?”

Penelope, the honorary bartender for the evening, nodded reassuringly, taking an already-made beverage from the counter and sliding it over to you, “You look like you could use it,” she observed.

You sighed in concurrence, “You have no idea,” you mumbled as you brought the glass to your lips. The drink itself was a bit of an abomination, so strong that it burnt your nostrils as it went down, “God, that’s strong.”

The technical analyst just laughed, making her way back to the dance floor to meet up with Luke and Matt. Your gaze flickered over other members of the team until you were met with familiar brown eyes.

There had been a ball of dread forming in your stomach ever since you returned from Los Angeles. From where you were standing now, the cut on your boyfriend’s hand that you had preoccupied yourself with seemed inconsequential. You watched him now, in real-time as he glanced between you and your sister, picking up on the tension as you avoided her.

Someone was bound to snap.

Walking away from the bar, you went out into the hallway, finding the nearest door and practically throwing yourself outside. Pulling your hair off the back of your neck with your free hand, you sat down on a moss-covered bench in the courtyard and waited for the cold night air to cool you off.

As expected, you heard the door behind you click. You couldn’t be bothered to look at who it was, if it was important to them, they’d come to you. Sure enough, you remained focused on your drink as Spencer took a seat on the bench next to you, “Aren’t you cold?”

“Alcohol,” you mumbled, “Keeps me warm.”

Not exactly the answer he was going for, but he took it at face value. He was probably more comfortable in his suit than you were in your dress. “Are you feeling alright?”

You thought about lying to him. Telling him that you were just tired, it had been a long week of watching your sister and boyfriend being held hostage in a pawn shop and hunting Everett Lynch on top of your normal caseload, but the thought of holding up that lie just made you feel worse. Taking a large sip of your drink, you took a deep breath before speaking, “Garcia recovered the audio from the CCTV footage inside of the pawn shop. Emily asked me to review the tapes and let her know if I thought there was anything pertinent that should be added to the case files.”

He didn’t respond for a while, knowing exactly what you were getting at but not sure how to further the conversation, “And did you?”

You lifted your glass again, “There wasn’t anything in the tapes that was necessary for the case. I buried the audio files and transcripts and sealed the file.”

“Thank you,” he said, relief evident in his tone.

You, however, frowned at his response, “’Thank you’?” You repeated, an accusation in your voice, “I was scared shitless while the two of you were in there, and all the while my sister was confessing her love for you.”

Spencer was quiet again, rendered speechless by your words. Your description was accurate, if not blunt.

You sniffled, setting your glass down and wrapping your arms around yourself, “I have never felt more humiliated, and no one else can ever know why.” You traced the cobblestones on the ground with your eyes as thoughts continued racing through your head. “God, is this why she pushed us together?”

The door behind you clicked again and you stiffened, closing your eyes when you heard JJ coming out into the courtyard, “Ducky, we need to talk.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you snapped at her, standing up and glaring at her. Your childhood nickname rang through your ears. A term of endearment given to you by your oldest sister now grated on your heart, shredding through each chamber. “I do not need to do anything,” you told her, narrowing your gaze.

Tears pricked your eyes, Please, JJ, just give me time to think. I just need a minute. Not everything has to be solved right away.

You were too proud to say the words aloud, but you thought it. You wanted to beg her for time. You wanted to plead with your sister for just a little bit of time to think things through.

She held her hands up in surrender, “I needed to tell Pinkner something that would satisfy him. You know the profile; you know what would’ve happened if I didn’t.”

Yes, and the image of both of them being held at gunpoint would haunt you for years to come, but that still didn’t justify any of it, not to you. Finishing off your drink, you set the crystal glass on the cobblestone bench and faced your sister, “Jennifer,” you said sharply, “Truth or dare?”

Her blue eyes widened as she looked between you and Spencer, who was wisely keeping his mouth shut, “Truth,” she answered, her voice so quiet you could barely hear it.

“Did you mean it?” You asked, the first of your tears finally flooding over your lash line.

You gripped the fabric of your dress in your hands as you waited for her answer, “Yes,” she told you.

Covering your face with your hands, you sighed deeply into them, “Fuck,” you cried. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you echoed. None of this made sense to you, JJ was married. JJ and Will were the kind of couple that you could look at and you would know that they belonged together, but now she was saying she had been in love with Spencer this whole time.

White hot tears stung the cold skin on your cheeks as you looked back up at your sister, waiting for her to say something else. “We went on an almost date years ago and nothing else ever came of it. Life just went on moving and we…” Her voice trailed off, either unable to finish her thought or unwilling to share.

“You’re married, JJ,” you said desperately, looking at her and wondering if she had told Will where she was going. “Does Will know? Did you tell him you’ve been stringing him along? Thirteen years in and two kids later?”

She faltered for a moment, and you knew you had hit your mark – it made you sick to your stomach. “No, I love him. I love my boys, you know that.”

You nodded numbly, “Yeah, I do, but I can’t keep going if you’re always going to be longing for what might’ve been.”

“You’re drunk and you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she accused, tapping her right foot anxiously.

JJ might’ve grown up in Roslyn’s shadow, but you grew up in hers. Captain of the varsity soccer team, full-ride athletic scholarship at Pitt, and grad school at Georgetown. All leading up to her joining the bureau at twenty-three. You followed her, believing anywhere was better than Pennsylvania, and this is what it had gotten you. It was exhausting, being the one pushing the boulder up the hill, your hands were scraped, and she couldn’t see it.

Deftly, you wiped at the tears beneath your eyes, “I know exactly what I’m saying. Please, can you try and just look at this from my point of view? My big sister, who I’ve looked up to for my whole life, confessed her feelings for my boyfriend. My boyfriend who she set me up with.” Realization dawned on you, turning to face Spencer, “You were in love with her, and… I’m…” your voice trailed off.

Matching your train of thought, Spencer shook his head, reaching a hand out for yours, but you pulled away from him, “No, honey, please. It’s not like that.”

“You couldn’t have her, and I’m just the next best thing,” you told him miserably. “She met Will and got pregnant and got married and you were so in love with her that you took the off-brand version just to have something.”

Spencer shushed you, watching as tears fell from your cheeks, “I’m with you because I love you, not because of anything else.”

Your chest ached, it felt like someone had thrust their hand in the cavity and was squeezing as tightly as they could. You wanted to believe him. You so, so badly wanted to believe him. “Tell me,” you prompted, “tell me I’m not your second choice.”

“You are not my second choice,” he told you, and you watched. You watched for his tells, any sign at all that he was lying.

You shook your head at him, “Why did you lie to me? About the football game,” you asked him, a semi-permanent frown staying on your face.

He furrowed his brows and stood up in front of you, rubbing your arms up and down to keep you warm, “I didn’t lie to you.”

“You didn’t tell me. Neither of you did. That’s lying by omission, and you both know it,” you said, stepping away from him hesitantly. You didn’t know what to trust; you didn’t know what was real.

Spencer looked back at your sister, but she looked frozen, “It wasn’t a date,” he said simply. “I… I intended for it to be a date, but JJ invited Penelope and that was the end of it. I took it as her not being interested and that’s the truth. Nothing else ever happened between the two of us.”

You watched your sister, her mouth opening and closing as she scrounged for the right thing to say. “I said what I had to in order to survive,” she defended.

Sucking on your back molars, you shrugged helplessly in response, “I know,” you admitted. “I know that you probably planned on taking your truth to the grave with you, but… it’s out, Jayg.”

“I can explain everything to you,” she offered, “Please let me explain, Ducky.”

The desperation in her voice chiseled at your resolve, but it wasn’t enough. “I don’t have it in me,” you admitted. “I’m fresh out of fight and I just wanna go home,” you told her, looking at Spencer who nodded, heading back inside to gather your things.

You sat back down on the bench, propping your chin up on your hand.

“I couldn’t think of anything else to say,” she tried again, her voice gruff from holding back tears.

Shaking your head, you closed your eyes and breathed in the cold winter air, “I don’t really care, JJ. You said it, I heard it, and now you have to deal with it.”

She cleared her throat, “I would deal with it now, but you’re being petulant.”

Looking up at her, you frowned, “I told you inside that I didn’t want to talk about this here. You came outside. You sought me out to talk. Now you’re mad that I’m not being nice about it?” Something new bubbled in your stomach, the pit that had been forming there quickly evolved into anger.

“I was trying to save lives,” she tried again, insisting she was right.

You could live with her being right on that front. She was saving lives, and she needed a truth potent enough to sway the UnSub, but in all of her explanations, she never once apologized about this curveball. “I live with Spencer. I… when I give gifts, they’re signed from the both of us,” you told her. “Sometimes when we can’t sleep at night, we come up with baby names, and you’re in love with him. I asked for time, and you couldn’t give it to me. So, this is what you get.”

With Spencer reappearing at the door, you made your way out of the courtyard, he draped your coat over your shoulders, and you wrapped the wool around yourself as you made your way out. “I told Rossi and Krystall that you were tired, but I think they might have taken it as you had too much to drink,” he explained, opening the passenger side door for the car for you to get in.

A small smile tugged at your throat, “I don’t really care.” Maybe if you had gotten that drunk, your chest wouldn’t hurt so much.

The rest of the ride home was silent, small flurries started floating from the sky, and you watched the way they danced in the streetlights. Once you were home, you got ready for bed, grabbing a pillow off of your bed, and turning to the door, “Where are you going?” Spencer asked, returning from brushing his teeth.

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch,” you told him softly, looking at the pillow that you were clutching in your arms.

He faltered for a moment, obviously taken aback by your decision, “Can we talk tomorrow?”

You frowned, letting your eyes lift to his, when it was dark, his eyes took on a certain kind of melancholia. It hurt to look at tonight. “Sure,” you offered weakly, turning around and heading for the couch.

“Are we gonna be okay?” He asked, fear creeping into his voice. Fear of losing you.

Glancing back at him as you lobbed the pillow on the couch, you gave him a gentle smile, “Yeah, Spence, we’ll figure it out. Just not tonight, okay?”

[1nthedarknessofthenight]

﴾ haunt me

pairing: demon!lee minho x f!reader

genre: one-shot, horror au, smut

word count: 11,2K

warnings: small!stalking ⋆ obsessive behavior ⋆ blood ⋆ hair!pulling ⋆ ass!slapping ⋆ biting! ⋆ pain!kink⋆ choking! ⋆ small!fear play⋆ dom!leeknow & sub!reader ⋆ rough!sex ⋆ ass up face down!position ⋆ fingering (f.receiving) ⋆ oral (f.receiving) ⋆ cunnilingus ⋆ unprotected!sex ⋆ creampie!

summary: on Halloween night, you and your friends gather for a classic spirit summoning, eager to make the most of this tradition, unaware that you will be the one to face the consequences…

author’s note: this is actually the first ever thing I wrote here, but I forgot about it but now it’s finally seeing the light of the day

──────────────────────

The blanket around you did nothing for the coldness that seeped into your skin. Your teeth are still chattering, lips dry and nose runny. You should’ve known better, all of you. Your muscles are straining with every small move you make to get yourself a little more comfortable on the hard floor. Your eyes go over the room, finding only disappointment. The costumes, makeup and left over mess reminded everyone of how horrible the party was. You remember how excited you and your friends were. You all spend so much time getting ready, almost freezing to death while walking to the so called party. You looked forward to it so much and maybe you did have way too high of expectations. Everything was awful and mostly — it lacked the Halloween spirit.

Your attention goes back to the television, just as the lead character is being chased by the killer. Her screams pierce your ears, while you take a small sip of the wine in your hands. You and your friends decided to just rather go home and have a small party of your own. The disappointment was so great that none of you had an appetite for searching for another party. However the costume still wrapped around your body was telling you something different. Just watching horror movies and sitting in a costume didn’t fill the need of thrill you so needed.

Soft footsteps are heard, making you all turn, some in fright, thinking that something evil is coming right towards you all, but is just your friend Katherine. The soft light, illuminates her figure clad in dark, long dress, her nails glimmering as she lifts up something to show you. Firstly you only see what seems like a plate, but as another one of your friends goes to switch on a lamp beside you, all of you immediately realize what she was holding.

“Look what I got!” Her voice is chippery, but it holds a small mocking at the end. A series of groans and small sounds echo around you, while your eyes are still on the Ouija board in her hands. Your eyes go quickly over the letters and the planchette. Even with alcohol in your system, you are getting a really weird feeling from the piece of wood. It makes the hair at the back of your head stand up, shivers going down your spine. You are definitely not alone, because your friend Jade is almost trembling from even the thought of using such thing. Your hand falls on top of her messy hair to soothen her, but your eyes are still on the witch who rolls her eyes at her other friend’s noises. “Oh, common, it’s mandatory.”

The girl next to you shakes her head immediately, hand pointing to the board, making the others for a second silent. “You know what happens after using that thing, right?” You have to agree a little with her weariness. You have ever actually thought about talking to the death. Nothing made you believe something evil existed, but also you were not a sceptic. just nothing made you believe there was something more so far. Jade was scared of everything, so your friends didn’t take her warning so seriously and you have to huff softly at that.

“Well, yeah—“ Katherine shrugs, looking down at the Ouija board. “But also no, because I’ve never tried it.”

You watch her as she sits down on the floor before you, your other two friends circling around her to look closely at the wooden tablet. You too can’t help, but tilt your head at it. There were few scratches, dark smudges, but maybe it was that design. “Where did you get this?” You wonder, because you don’t think she has these kinds of things just laying around in her apartment.

She looks up at you, dark eyes peeking out from behind her neon yellow contact lenses. “The thrift store.” Some of you have to laugh shortly at her dry response, some too occupied by the board laying before you all.

“Are there at least instructions?” Wonders out loud your friend Hannah who sits across from you in her scary clown costume.

“Who needs them?”

It has to be the alcohol or maybe you were already getting tired, but as the television is shut off, lights switched off, you have this weird feeling on the back of your head. You scratch at the burning spot, distracting yourself for just a second by liting up some few candles. The flame gives you the small amount of warmth you so desperately need. You can still feel the coldness licking at your skin, but there was also this awful heat gathering in your chest. Were you nervous? Scared? A frown is plastered on your face, eyes never leaving the Ouija board, like the planchette would move at any second.

This uneasy feeling is not shared however, but still your friends seem to get a little quieter. All of you sit on the floor, the only light being the few lit candles around you and the Moon peeking behind the curtains. Was it the thought of doing something you shouldn’t that was scaring you? You refuse to believe that something in the shadows was peaking at you. The paranoia was eating you alive. Your frozen finger digs into your skin, pulse jumping rapidly and you have to remind yourself that it is all just in your head. None of you were touching it so far, however the sight of those scratches, dips and cravings on the board seem to pierce your soul.

You blink rapidly, smudging your makeup, because you have to sigh in exhaustion. You can’t remember the last time you were so paranoid and — scared. Maybe it is only because you have never tried it, but looking at your other friends they didn’t seem too into it. They still chatted between each other shortly, swallowing down the cheep wine. You look down into your own cup, swirling the liquid around as you can’t find the appetite to take a sip right now.

You are startled a little when someone claps their hands together, making your attention move to Katherine who rubs her palms together. “Are we going to do this?” Your eyes flicker to your scared friend, a little tipsier than before, so you are not too surprised by seeing her just nod in agreement. You do not protest either, putting down your cup next to you and outstretching your hands to the planchette that sits in the middle of the floor.

The silence is heavy, completely aware of the darkness wrapping around you, piercing your back. You try to ignore it as best as you can, shaking your head at yourself, pressing your finger lightly on the planchette. Nothing is heard for a second, all of you looking at each other briefly, before Amanda speaks up. “Is anybody here?” She calls out and her voice seem to echo around you almost.

Silence again, but you can’t help, but look around. Though you have to sigh a little when the same question is repeated. “It doesn’t work like that.” You say, cutting through the quiet.

Everyone turns to look at you and your friend can’t help, but raise a challenging eyebrow. “Okay, you try then.” Says Hannah.

You clear your throat a little, swallowing the invisible lump in your throat. The way you are becoming nervous is making you anxious. The blanket around you slips from your shoulders, the cold immediately kissing you. It felt like there was no layer left between you and the darkness. When you straighten your back, shuffling a little closer to the board, your fingers start to tremble. The small frown of confusion by your body reacting like this is visible, but you try to keep it together. Licking your lips, your eyes go around the room, before plastering your eyes back down. “We welcome everyone who wants to join us and if anyone is here, we would like you to make a sign.” You take a deep breaths between each word, not knowing exactly what is suitable to say in this kind of situation.

Your voice seems almost loud in the quiet room, but everyone seems to listen carefully to you. You do too, a little too hard, because the only thing you can hear for a while is your blood rushing in your ears. Your eyes are wide open, searching in the dark behind your friends. You don’t even know for what you are searching, but you feel like the answer is close. You have never talk to the dead, but you can’t say that people who do this are exaggerating. The waiting for something to happen is frightening and you think you have never been so on high alert over something that wasn’t even there.

“Could you maybe knock on something?” Asks Jade, her voice quiet, but in the room even a pin drooping could be heard.

“Or make that candle blow out?”

Questions fly across the room, though nothing happens for a moment. All of you look at each side of the room, your eyes however fall into the hallway where you were sitting next to. Nothing is seen, only those specks of light made by your eyes. However you swear you feel warmth coming from the end of the hallway. It was almost suffocating in a way, already thinking it’s just you, but then something does happen and you feel it yourself as very one else in the room.

“It’s moving….” Exclaims Amanda in shock, staring down at the planchette. Your own breath gets stuck in your throat, because you swear you feel the planchette vibrating under your fingers. Your eyes immediately trail over to your friends in disbelief. It moves subtly in short stops and you have to shake your head at it.

“Who is moving it?”

“It’s not me! You’re doing it!”

The voices of your friends fall to deaf ears. You don’t want to believe it, but looking at the frightened faces of your friends, you can tell that their reactions are completely genuine. Nervous feeling creeps up on you, watching the planchette travel over the board, before it stops at a corner. “Yes?” You say softy the word and you swallow roughly, eyes trailing over the room. You don’t want to believe it, but you are now left with no choice. “Is it yes that someone is here with us?” You ask again, listening carefully.

For a moment you only hear your friends’ whimpers of fear and your own heart in your ears, but then a small tap is heard behind you. Your head whips around quickly, your own gasp matching with the others as you stare with wide eyes at the window behind you. Only the Moon and swinging trees can be seen, nothing other than that. You turn back around to look at your friends, but your eyes fall onto something different.

The candles around you seem to rise, flame flickering and bending like something is blowing at them. Your own face of your fear, makes them look into the direction and few hushed curses are being shared across the room. “Holy shit–“ Says Hannah.

“Maybe you left the window open?”

“You know damn well that I didn’t, Jade”

You are not following their conversation again, lost in thought or to be honest you can’t even think straight right at this moment. Your face scrunches up, shivers going down your spine. You eyes widened again, freezing in your spot. The side of your body burns, it left like something was poking you, telling you to turn around. You can’t move however for a second, from the corner of your eye watching your friends panic over the planchette moving again, but you are not even touching it anymore. The thing that frightens the most is the feeling of someone’s eyes staring at your back.

Your head turns slowly around, body screaming at you not to, but something is controlling you, pushing you to look back into the hallway. The hot air rushes to your face and it wasn’t from the candles. When you finally turn to glance into the darkness, your blurry eyes from not blinking at all don’t see anything for a moment, but soon from the darkness appears a sphere, then it forms and forms till it turns into a silhouette of a person.

You gasp, breath getting stuck in your chest. It is eery, horrifying sight and even if you finally blink rapidly, like it was just your own eyes playing tricks on you, it only seems to get closer. It reaches for you and you want to pull back, but can’t. You watch the mass of darkness become fuller slowly, before you see pair of red beaming eyes forming out of it. You lips fall apart, a loud scream at the back of your tongue, but before it can fall out of you, the candles that you just now realized became even higher dim back down by blink of an eye.

The sound of the board being thrown across the room, makes you snap out of the trance, scrambling away, just like your friends. You are breathing hard, head turning to look at others who only have their eyes on the board in the corner of the room. And you at the moment realize in your frightened state that you have been the only one who saw the truth.

────

With every step, with every breath you took, your head would turn around. Paranoia seemed to follow you the moment you left your friend’s apartment and you hoped that was the only thing truly following you. You lived quite far, too late to catch the last bus, leaving you to walk your way home. However you were at least walking through the city and maybe you were just imagining the burning eyes at the back of your head. And if you weren’t, a look from a stranger couldn’t make you feel like this. Someone — something was sizing you up, following you, perfectly mimicking your movements like your own shadow and just as you though you caught it, turning around swiftly — nothing, only a crowd of people who didn’t even acknowledge your presence.

You didn’t either, there seem to be invisible to you and the thing following you that couldn’t be seen either however, had a strong sense of presence. Was there really safety in numbers? After a while, every little noise made you jump, laughter and occasional screams of terror when the unreal monsters jumped at someone, made your head spin. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe, like you already you have already considered, it was only in your head. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to try and talk to the dead and on this night specifically as everyone around you made your delusions even stronger.

You couldn’t breathe. Every time your feet moved faster, it seemed to be even closer to you. So close you that you could feel it reaching the back of your neck or was it just the wind? Your eyes trailed over the people. No one was looking at you, everyone minded their own, drinking the night away and crowding the small square. What if you and your friends decided to go here instead and not the party? What if you wouldn’t play with the board?

Your stroll slowed down to a full stop. It felt like whatever that was following you disappeared, but also at the same time seemed even closer to you. Just out of sight. You didn’t want to search for it, but something was telling you to do so. You stopped at the middle of the crowd, eyes almost like being pulled by a magnet stopping on a one specific place. The people walked through your line of vision before it become clear to you why you were so drawn to that spot.

There — right there, under the roof of a stand stood what it looked like a man by his slightly broad shoulders and short hair, but by the shadow which the roof casted on him, you couldn’t even get a glimpse of his face. However that wasn’t necessary. The way he stood…from his whole body radiated this menacing, evil aura that made your whole body freeze. Your breath was taken away from you, eyes wide, staring at the unknown figure. The same, almost even more intense wave of fear washed over you, it felt the same when you looked down the dark hallway. He didn’t feel like a real person, he felt like something way more than that. Something dark and hungry and it was staring right back at you. You didn’t see his eyes, but you just know. This couldn’t be real…

This couldn’t be real. Things like this don’t exist and if they did you feel like they would be more documented. You weren’t a true believer nor a sceptic, but you really didn’t feel like wanting to know the truth right now. He, it didn’t move and even by blinking, it didn’t vanish like you wished it would. It was probably just a person, a person with a really scary costume.

A gasp leaves you as suddenly someone elbows you. You turn to the person, catching there sneer and you realize that maybe standing in the middle of the street wasn’t a good idea. You looked stupid, but that was the least of your worries as you glance back at the man, only him being nowhere to be found. Were you just imagining things at this point? Maybe your fear was only playing with you. You ignore the weird occurrence as best as you could, deciding to continue heading back home. Your apartment was just few blocks away and at the thought of finally being inside your safe space makes you pick your pace.

The feeling of being followed doesn’t leave you however, but you keep your head high in a mock confidence, showing whatever this thing was that you are brave. You really weren’t much of an actress, because as soon as you reach the entrance door to your building, you rush to unlocked it, slipping in quickly, like the thing would just squeeze right through you. The doors slam shut loudly and you hope that none of the other residents won’t come to scold you. The more you walk your way up the stairs to your apartment, the more you don’t acknowledge the creepy feeling that someone is watching you.

Your apartment door shines brightly at you and you out of breath fumble with your keys. The satisfying click and smell of your home made you sight out in relief. You were so happy to be finally inside, greeting your cat who waited for you just as you opened the door. Your hands smoothen down her fluffy hair, sighing at her calming purring. Everything that happened flew over your head as you finally started to feel at ease. Like you thought — it was just your imagination, nothing more…

You weren’t one for drinking till you passed out, but you find yourself stumbling just a little as you pull off your shoes, already ruined just by a one night of walking. Making your way into your kitchen, you go to give some food to your fluffball who meowed at your every move and that sound really ease your racing heart.

Putting down the bowl on the floor, you watch your cat eating away for a second. You are lost in thought, though nothing specific was running through your head, just blankly staring into space. But just as you move to make your way to your bedroom, you saw something shift from the corner of your eye. Looking up, you however find nothing, but the dark corner of your unlight living room and at that your patience runs low. For yourself, because you can’t believe that you are making yourself see things in your own home where you are supposed to feel the safest.

You flip the light switch next to you, illuminating the room in subtle orange hue, your eyes still unmoving from the spot and still nothing was there. A sigh leaves you, but you refuse to say it was out of relief. At that you went to take your upper layer off, also fixing yourself something knowing that if you won’t eat or drink something, it will kill you in the morning.

You are exhausted, a heavy weight on top of your shoulders telling you to just lay down. In some way however you are still on high alert, maybe the aftermath of your own self scaring you. You thought about showering, but to be honest you didn’t have the energy to do all of your routine at this hour and also there is nothing for you to wash off.

You stumble again, but now over the bottom of your dress, catching yourself just in time with your hand on the doorway to your bedroom. The sheer, soft fabric is thrown on your bed, ignoring the mess all over the room. The corset around you didn’t suffocate you and you wonder what exactly is it that is making you lose your breath. Your hands fumble over your back, fingers just at the lacing of your top, but just before you can pull at it, you hear a noise.

It was loud and it momentarily makes you look back into the direction of your living room. You sigh shortly after, shaking your head at your own delusions. It was just your cat probably. However when you again go to pull at the string of your corset, you hear a meow right beside you, before you see your cat jumping into your field of vision on your bed. You freeze slightly, hands stilling. It is an old building, it makes noises all the time — it was nothing. You try to gaslight yourself by thinking it didn’t even happened, but then there’s even a louder bang! coming from behind you.

Your head whips around wildly, hair falling into your wide eyes that stare into your dark hallway. You feel your heart pounding against your chest and in your state of shock you are not quick enough to stop your cat from running to the direction of the noise. Your hands outstretch before you, in hushed whisper pleading your cat to come back, but her fuffy, long tail is soon gone from your vision. You hate the lump forming in your throat and the way your bottom lip quivers. That noise almost again makes you wonder if you imagine it, but then you hear it again, now in series of three bangs that echoed in your apartment. It sounded like knocking, mocking you to let whoever — whatever it was in, but what if it was already here with you? It sounded like the noises were meant for you to come in, get closer.

The noises weren’t the only thing making you frighten, it was also the way the air around you seems to drop in temperature. You immediately shiver, goosebumps appearing all over your body. But there was this odd warmness, starting right at the entrance of your open bedroom door. It was so appealing…

You finally take a step closer to the hallway when you hear another loud noise. The sudden realization that your cat might be in danger makes you take few steps further even with the fear you held in yourself. You hate her for it, but you are now only scared for her. You quickly look around your room for any kind of weapon, but you find nothing, realizing that your pepper spray was in your purse that you left on your kitchen counter. You just have to be brave…That’s what you try to tell yourself, while slowly making your way out of the room.

The darkness seemed deeper that when you went in your bedroom. It is intoxicating, heavy, it pierces your skin and stings at your eyes. Your lungs scream for air as you try not to breath at all, scared to even make a sound. Your light costume leaves you in very vulnerable state and it makes you wrap your arms around your stomach that grumbles uncomfortably. What if the thing you thought followed you was a man and he somehow got into your apartment? You don’t know if a man is better than an entity, but it certainly would make you feel less crazy. You hope that the knocking was mistaken, that it was only someone at your door. You have to tell yourself that there’s no way for someone to break in, because you locked the door immediately when you came in. However something at the back of your mind is telling you that you have the right to be frightened.

And you were to death, when you stop at the corner, living room just right behind a wall. Your eyes didn’t get use to the darknesss and looking at the threshold leading to your living room, you realized you weren’t going after light. You were only going down the path that seeped warmness, blazing hot, coming right from your living room. There was no light, the one you switched on was left that way, but now there’s not a single flicker of it peeking out. You listen carefully, for your cat or your intruder, but the sound of your heart makes your ears ring, so you had nothing, but your sight right now.

Your hand almost tears the fabric of your skirt as you lean forward a little, squinting into the room. A whiff of the same feeling washes over you again, making you pull yourself back with a choked sigh. It is the same one — like the one you felt while looking into the hallway, like the one when you saw the silhouette of the man and the same one that has been following you. Your eyes become blurry with tears, panicking, mind racing. You have no clue what to do. You have no weapon, your phone is in your kitchen and your keys…right beside the door to your apartment.

It is a bad idea, but if you would run through the living room quickly enough, you can get out. There’s still a chance that the intruder had your keys, so you ask yourself — are you willing to take the chances? Of getting caught by this…thing. You don’t want to leave your cat alone or worse with it, but if you would just make it next door to your neighbor, you can safe her and yourself. Your hand tightens around your skirt, picking it up and sprinting out of your hiding spot, but as soon as you do — you see him.

You choke, the sound bumbling in your throat, your eye staring straight at the silhouette in the corner of your room. Even in the dark, you can see it. The mass of darkness coming from him alone and the hot air suffocates you, just by looking into his direction. Tears stream down your face as you turn back to the direction of the door and back at the man, but then you hear a soft purring sound. Your cat is rubbing herself against the man’s feet and even if you are thankful nothing happened to her, you are terrified from seeing her so close to that man. Her white fur is bright and you almost come rushing to her, but as your eyes go back to the door, you run to that direction instead.

Your hand outstretches, reaches for the doorknob, even if you can see the keys glimmering before your teary eyes there was no salvation for you. You are turned around, roughly pushed to the door and a whimper of pain leaves you as your back meets the wood. Your mouth opens, ready to scream, but like he knew, his hand falls over your lips, silencing your cry for help.

Your teary eyes stare at the faceless person, eyes streaming down your face and pooling at his hand. You are held against the door, but not with his body, it was like your whole body had frozen over. You want to scream in fear, instincts telling you to just run, but you can’t move an inch. Though your body trembles, eyes searching, trying to get a view of this man. He didn’t feel real, his skin is hot, breath fanning over your face. You are starting to sweat from all the different temperatures, sobbing in fear as you hear his lips fall apart.

“Don’t scream.”

His voice is low, quiet yet strong. You don’t want to fulfill his demand, but the tone of voice — it echoed in your mind, repeating and repeating. His hand falls from your lips and you take in deep breaths, choking. You can’t even muster to scream, you can’t and you don’t want to, because he maybe will hurt you. “Please, don’t hurt me — don’t kill me.” You are shuttering over your words, choking again in your tears.

You can see him tilt his head at your pleas, standing right before your shaking body so casually it made you sick. He didn’t even try to do something to you yet and that definitely heightens the terror in you. You sob, crying and you gasping at the sound of him sushing you. You back pressed harder against the door, finally finding enough strength to move just a little away from him, when he leans just a little closer to you. “Where’s the fun in that?” He whispers to you, teasing you almost, amused tone in his voice. You look at him slightly confused, eyes blurry, still not knowing what this man looks like. You don’t feel at ease at his tone nor his words of small assurance. It is like he could see you, because you can hear the click of his shoes, stepping a little away from you. “I thought you wanted me to make myself known?”

You are left even more confused, before it quickly comes clear to you. You can’t — you won’t believe it. Those words pierce you painfully and with seeing him this much away from you, makes you immediately think of the silhouette you have seen following. This man could be just a man, but his words…back at the small seance you spoke them. A sharp intake is heard, shaking your head at the thought of this man being something more. The thought crossed your mind, but you actually never would think that it might be the truth. If it is — if this man is something from the other realm, haunting you, making you tremble in fear that it probably thrives in…you can’t – “No…” Your disagreement is quiet, heart beating wildly in horror as you look over the mass of darkness around him, evil. “This is some sick joke — you are just playing with me. Who’s behind his?” Your words are not making sense anymore to you, too many thoughts of how it could be possible leaves you thinking that it might be just a stupid prank, but no human could make you this sort of fear.

The man sneers, hissing like a snake at your words. It sounded like you just insulted him, gasping loudly when he makes a one big step closer to you and you swear your noses almost bump together. “Do you think your friends can do this?” He says, raising his hand, putting it right before your eyes. Your wide eyes stare at his hand forming into fist and by the act you see the light in your kitchen flickering with every subtle move of his. You look at him, finally seeing in the small flickers of light his face. You didn’t know what to expect, maybe a gross man or the devil himself with horns and a face of death, but you are certainly left speechless.

His dark, brown hair is slightly in his eyes. They shine, deep red at the corners that flicker with the light. Long and sculpted nose leads you to trail your eyes over his high cheekbones to his cupids bow and then his bitten, plump lips. This wasn’t a face of evil, he looked like an angel, no face that should make you feel terrified, but you can see it in his eyes. Sinister, holding evil as well as wisdom that you could never imagine or reach. Even in this small moment you had enough time to look him over, but as his hand closes into tight fist, the sound of the lightbulb shattering makes you fall back into the stage of horror. You can hear your cat running away from the scene and your tears recur, because you finally start to believe. “Do you think your friends could ever make you feel so frightened?” You shake your head, head spinning at what just happened.

He turned on the light with just his hand in the air, with just putting his hand into a fist he crushed it and you don’t want to know what else he can do. “I don’t understand…w-who are you?” You are hyperventilating, praying that is just your imagination again, but you can’t close your eyes and let him vanish from your sight. You need to see him.

“The better question is… what am I?” You are again shaking your head and it’s like he can see your thoughts, because he is making you say out loud what you have been thinking all along. You don’t seem him, but his lips lift up slightly for a moment at his own memory. “When you were playing with that Ouija board, do you know, that you opened the gates for anyone to go through?” A cry leaves you, just as the light in the corner of the room is light up with a flick of his finger. Your eyes stare into his amused ones and somehow you wished you didn’t have to see him. “You didn’t even closed it...”

Realization strikes you, your trembling stopping when you thought of your friends. What if they are also in danger just because of you? You would definitely wouldn’t be able to live with that guilt. ‘What am I?’ His words are the one thing on your mind right now. How much is he dangerous? He doesn’t even blink, doesn’t even breathe it seems, your eyes staring blankly at his face. “Oh, my—“ You can’t even finish the word as his hand quickly by a blink of an eye wraps around your throat.

You feel him squeeze his fingers in a warning, not quite choking you, but it still makes you gasp for air. “Don’t say his name, he can’t help you. You did this to yourself—“

“Are you the devil?” You wonder out loud and his whole demeanor changes, laughing drily at your question.

“I preciete the compliment, but no.” Your eyebrows furrowed at his weird behavior. You still fear him, but he doesn’t seem like he wants to hurt you at all. Maybe he already has you right where he wants, under him with his hand on your throat, playing with your life.

He maybe might not be the devil himself, but he still had those rings of fire around his irises. He is evil, you know it and evil always wants something. Like he said, you have done this to yourself and you have to pay. You know he won’t let you go, he didn’t stop following you from the apartment and even if you know who or maybe what he looks like, it doesn’t calm you down. You still know so little and you wish you didn’t have to know further. You are completely at his mercy and you are pulled back into the present when his hand tightens again, pulse jumping against his fingers.

“Just take what you want—“

He tsked at you, he now being the one shaking his head and you can’t move away from him or even fight against his strong hold as he makes you lean closer to his face. “Be careful with your words.” His upper teeth are revealed with how much he is sneering and it makes you look down at his mouth. His upper front teeth are bigger slightly, but they weren’t the thing that makes your heart skip a beat — his canine teeth were sharp as a razor and you wonder if his sneering is prediction of him maybe biting you, eating at your flesh. “I’m not the type of evil you’re imaging right now…” His voice is a little softer than before and you wonder if he can read your mind.

Then what is he? “T-then what are you?” You ask him, genuinely curious about his answer.

He lowers his head, your breathing stilling, leaving you speechless as he comes close enough to you that your lips are almost touching. “Do you want me to tell you, or do you want to find out yourself, like the big girl you are?” His breath words bounce off your parted lips, taking in his raw scent.

Heat pools over you, watching him pull away from you just to look back at your face. His words sounded suggestive and you hope your own mind isn’t messing with you. “You won’t hurt me?” Was he just playing with you all along? Just taking in the pleasure of seeing you scared?

“Not if you don’t want me to…I still have to take something.” His dark eyes fall over your body and you want nothing more than to cover yourself, because you realize at the moment how much your costume is provocative.

“Why? I didn’t ask for you — this.”

He tilts his head again, his eyes not holding amusement and you can feel the air thickening around you. “Did you now? Or were your drunk thoughts just speaking for you?” You breathe out, embarrassment making your skin hot at touch and you know he can feel it under his hand.

You are not sure if you wished for it, but it quickly reaches the surface. Your darkest desire of being taken over, filled with heat and pleasure…”Are you—“ You don’t even have to say it as he releases his hold on your throat, just to press his thumb on your bottom lip.

His touch is electrifying, addictive almost and your whole mind and body swirls for a moment. “A demon, that’s all what you need to know.” You almost nod your head in agreement, letting him trail his thumb across your lips, dangerously close to slipping in your warm mouth. You are puzzled by your own behavior, but you can’t fight it. The urge of him just coming a little closer to you, so you can feel more of him is strong. He can see it on your face and then there’s the subtle smile on his lips again, pouting and nodding at how much your body stops to shake. It certainly had an effect on him as wel, but the look on your tear stained face makes the hunger in him even bigger. “Or I could visit one of your friends…” He teases, though also too occupied by the feeling of his skin on yours.

“Just take me.”

You try to justify yourself, that you are doing this for them, but both of you know you want it — need it more. The fear is at the back of your head, forgotten almost replaced by the fuzzy feeling your mind is in. “Careful what you say.” He warns you again, maybe not to provoke him into doing something you didn’t want, but it flies over your head rather quickly.

His touch leaves you, but you don’t search for it as you are again left in small confusion. You know that you somehow wish for something specific, but you never thought it would come in this way. It makes you feel dirty, used already, but also it makes your nerve endings tingle. Desire for pleasure is normal for humans and you wonder how much he has seen them before. “Why me?” You ask him, surely you can’t be the only one on this night wishing.

“You intrigued me — your soul.” He says and his words hit you deeper than they should. “Calling for something to fill this hole in your chest. I can see into places that people so desperately try to keep hidden…tell me, are you hiding something Y/N?” You are taken back by the sound of your name, but you are aware that he must know you better than you know yourself.

“No…”

“Really…interesting.” The soft light creates shadows across his chiseled face, when he leans over you. “The moment I appeared…you didn’t seem so scared anymore. Does this idea of being used by a blood thirsty demon excites you?”

“No…”

The smile is tugging at your heart, a little eery in some way. “Then why can I smell your arousal from here?” You swallow roughly and you soon realize how much you have been pressing your thighs together. You can feel your slick coating your inner thighs, but the embarrassment doesn’t even reach you, because he looks like he drinks it all up. “I’m a demon of pleasure and desire, there’s no need to feel even an ounce of shame…” He is now reassuring you and his soothing voice is so different from the one you heard moments ago.

“But you’re a demon.” You state the now obvious and the statement should make you laugh in disbelief, but it only strikes you with a feeling you definitely feel shame about.

You feel the heat of his skin way before you feel the subtle touch of his hand on your exposed thigh. Goosebumps spread all over your body, swallowing your gasp at how pleasurable just this felt. “And a man still…” His fingers trail over the outer part of your thigh and your leg does jump away a little, but he was too addictive. “Doesn’t this idea of someone inhumanly powerful taking over your body and soul not excite you?” His voice is hushed and it feels so sweet in your ears.

You shake your head, though not doing anything to move away from him. “I won’t let you take my soul.” You can’t let him take the thing that makes you who you are.

“Maybe not…” Your eyes blink at him, head rolling back against the door as he straightens his back to tower over you. “But your body will be mine—“

You have now words, not even a sound leaves you, because you are left paralyzed when his hand squeezes roughly at the soft skin of thigh. Your wide eyes are staring into his, taken back by the bold move. He doesn’t have to hear any permission to touch you, it was all written right in front of him — all over you face, body and even your soul that you seem to be very sure that it will never be his. He has to wonder himself about how much this might be true, because you are responding to his touch like you have never been touched before. Just by his hand, playing with the string of your garter belt that held your white stockings leaves you gasping.

You are in trouble, you know, because you shouldn’t feel this much pleasure from the touch of a demon. However you already feel your body succumbing to him, just like he wanted. His hand travels under the thin layer of your skirt, dipping right into the mess you made of yourself. A sound leaves you unknowingly, head empty as he moves your thighs apart. The skin of your inner thighs is raw from how much you have been pressing your legs together, but you find yourself not caring anymore. With every breath you take, his hand trails higher and he bites his lip at how hot you feel against him.

His eyes travel across your face. Your eyes are barely open and he thinks he has never seen someone so away from their own mind by his moves. And obsessive, disgusting feeling washes over him, watching you sigh out in bliss as the tips of his fingers finally press over your covered clit. Your back arches a little, breasts pushing against your tight corset and he marvels over your barely covered body. “Who are you?” He asks you. You are dirty, thinking that wearing something like this in public is proper. His nature rages at the thought of anyone else seeing you like this.

You are slightly puzzled by his question, because the feeling of his hand right between your thighs is already too much for you to handle. “Christine…from Phantom of the Opera.” You response, eyes blinking open at him, just as he starts to form circles over your twitching clit.

“Adorable.”

Sharp moan flies out of your mouth, when he suddenly pulls the material of your underwear to the side. The air kisses your cunt, but it soon is warmed up by his fingers again. You are horrified of yourself right now. Why are you enjoying this? You have to remind yourself who and what is touching you, but you think nothing ever felt better. You have never made yourself and definitely not anyone else almost fall apart just by running your fingers through your folds. He is looking at you so intensely, you want to quiver. “Already this wet?” You can’t feel any shame in you and it is definite that he is making you feel like that. Should you be thankful? He is giving you sheer pleasure, circling your clit directly, after pushing the hood away from it. “Just like that, huh?” You don’t have any response for him, only whimpers of euphoria. “How long has it been?”

Your head rolls back, gasping at his touch. He knew your body better than you. Rubbing just at the perfect pace to make you crazy, pressing hard enough for your hips to buckle. Saliva gathers in your mouth, listening to the noises of your dripping center. You are so lost already that the only thing that makes you wake up is when his movements come to a stop. “What?” You say more because you didn’t want him to stop, looking back at him with big eyes and you realize he just asked you a question.

He leans closer to you, head falling on top of your shoulder so his lips are right beside your ear. He doesn’t really like to repeat himself, but being so responsive to him, he will let you do it once. “How long has it been since someone touched you?” With his question, his fingers travel down, right to your hole.

His breaths hit the sensitive skin of your neck and you have to swallow back a moan when his pointer finger just barely dips inside of you. “Long.” You confess in a whisper.

He smacks his lips, pressing them against your neck so you feel every word that comes from his mouth. “You poor thing, such a pity, but don’t worry—“ He is looking at you again, hand leaving you, making you whine a little and he can’t help but smirk a little. “I will make you feel things you have never felt before.”

With his promise, his hands find the back of your thighs, before he lifts you off your feet. You yelp from how smoothly he does it, pulling you up into his arms and you have no choice, but to wrap your legs around his waist. You are shocked by his strength, not used to being picked up so easily, staring at him with wide eyes. He doesn’t look away from you, even if he walks with you to your couch, not even when he lays you down on it. You feel special in this moment, drowning in the thought of him wanting you, but still his nature is not forgotten. He is made like this, he lives from the pleasure of the other.

Your head falls on the armrest, looking up at him looming over your body. He is already consuming you with his eyes alone and it feels delicious, but it sends a small sense of danger. His eyes flash red under the soft light, body clad in dark clothing perfectly contrasting with yours. Your hands are still in the air, fingers just barely grazing over his broad shoulder, but he soon leans closer to you, letting you hug him again. You feel small, vulnerable and weak, but you don’t want him to know he was right about you liking this. But, oh, trust me that he knows…

His hands grip the fabric of the couch, coming closer to you, placing his lower body right between your parted legs. Your hands seem to push him away from how bashful you have become and he surprises by not entirely rushing you. His head falls next to your neck again, slowly trailing his lips over the skin. Your breathing is formed into short gasps at his wet, soft kisses, eyes falling shut for a moment to savor the feeling. He can smell your perfume, sweat and even blood and it makes him groan quietly, kisses turning rougher, just to get closer to you. “Is this it? Is this all that you want?” You say, shivering still from his own sound.

His lips still for a second, but he doesn’t move away. “Is this what you want?” He now asks you.

You know, you don’t have to think much about your answer, but you still pause for a second. Your fingers twitch on his shoulders, legs closing around his and is it even necessary to give him an answer? The only thing you do is pull is head back down your neck, rolling your head back to give him more room, you are too embarrassed to say it out loud. He lets you, he is letting you have your way a little too much he thinks, but he can’t refuse the offer of your delicious neck.

His tongue licks a long stripe up your pulse, making you moan loudly when he starts to suck all over your neck. His bunny teeth nip lightly at your skin, fighting the argue to just bite down. He feels your nails digging into him, while he moans with you, enjoying just the taste of your skin like this. However the strong scent of your arousal is playing with his head, growling at the thought of eating your cunt. He can picture your face of ecstasy and shock all together. He would suck you all up, fuck you with his tongue and you coating his face in your pleasure.

You are shaking at how rough he nibs and sucks at your neck, the small fear of his sharp teeth piercing your quickly forming into pleasure. But before you can feel it, he releases himself from your neck to slide all the way down on the ground to kneel before you. His sharp movements always leave you in disbelief, your senses not quick enough to keep up with him. You pull yourself up to your elbows, watching him put his hands on your thighs, making your skirt pool at your waist.

Your legs are already trembling, knowing your pussy is left uncovered by his touches, but his attention is still fully on you. “White looks good on you, you almost make me feel bad that I will ruin it—“ The ‘you’ is silent, but the smirk is just a small reminder of what he is capable of.

When his eyes fall down to your cunt, he can’t help, but groan. He maybe is the one living of pleasure of the other, but what he is about to do to you is mostly for him. He doesn’t waste any time, he is inpatient and you as well as he can see from your fluttering hole. He doesn’t trail kisses over your thighs, nothing soft, nothing that you don’t want and when he pulls on your underwear, tearing the fabric he is sure that this is what you really want. It stings a little, the fabric snapping against you, before it is thrown away. His head fall between your legs so quickly your hips jump, clit hitting his nose and hard. Though even if you wanted to apologize, he didn’t seem to mind it at all, only letting his mouth fall open to suck at your folds.

“Oh…” Comes out of you, hand flying over your mouth from the feeling of his blazing, hot tongue running all over you. He spits and drools, saliva mixing with your slick and pooling right under your ass. Your hips keep jumping from the sheer and sharp pleasure. Your clit burns as it is caught between his lips. You are shocked by how quickly you feel yourself on the edge.

His head tilts back, releasing your bundle of nerves with a pop to run his tongue over your labia. Your clit twitches in need, mewing, just as he opens his eyes to stare right back at you. You can’t look away from him, from his red irises, his mouth wide open to catch every drop you give him. The pleasure and pain from his grip on your thighs forms into something else — something you haven’t felt before. You didn’t even know that just by someone going over your lips with their tongue felt so good. You swear you have never been this sensitive and he looks like that he knows exactly how to push you. He doesn’t need any guiding, nothing — he is a true man.

You can’t stop your sounds, the pleasure so good, you think you need to run away from it just to catch your breath. He doesn’t let you, his one hand pressing down against your lower stomach, preventing you from trashing around as his other goes to your hole. When his two fingers breaches you, a silent scream leaves you, your own hand flying to his to stop him, but you are already falling apart. Heat, waves of nonstop pleasure wash over you and your ears ring. Your mouth becomes dry, whimpers turning into cries, because you are sure you are going mad. You didn’t want it to end so soon, you wanted him to stop, to feel more.

Your whole body shakes wildly, the skin of your thighs jiggling around his head. You try to catch your breath while your orgasm is still washing over you, siting up to grasp at his hand. Your mouth is open, eyes now filled with tears, pleading and he watches you in your full glory. “I’m not stopping.” He says, words you so desperately needed to hear vibrating against you, fingers scissoring in you.

You immediately fall back down in relief and you can feel his crazed smile against you. The orgasm is none stopping. You don’t know if it’s because he isn’t stopping or if it was just him, but it is a out of body experience. Your hands press against your eyes, moaning wildly as his fingers pick up speed, tongue not stopping to move your clit up and down. He suck just perfectly, curl his fingers just right and doesn’t stop to take a breath nor to change position — he knows what he is doing. You push your legs up to your chest slightly, wrapping them around his head and the sight is to die for.

His eyebrows are furrowed, hand on your stomach searching for yours to put it in his hair. You instantly run your fingers through his soft hair, before tugging roughly and the deep growl that seems to make the whole room shake, sends you over the edge again. It is stronger, more burning and even painful and he eat it right up. You go silent again, eyes rolling into the back of your head and you pull his head with you also. You do hear him release himself from your messy, puffy cunt, just to watch you fall apart again. You don’t need him to help you ride out your orgasm, it was too good to not let it take over your whole being again.

The taste of you is on his tastebuds, licking at his lips hungrily, before crawling over your body. Your skin is hotter, almost like his and his cock pushes painfully against his pants at your drunk state. You looked beautiful…he needs to have you now. His hand moves your hair away from your sweaty face, making you finally open your blurry eyes. “Kiss me.” You say, hands pulling at the hairs on the back of his neck.

You haven’t seen much emotion on his face before, but this felt unnatural. It was just a split second, but you saw it — disappointment. “I can’t.” He says, shaking his head. His eyes held longing, but he makes you forget about this whole moment by kissing you on your collarbone.

You sigh, pressing your chest closer to him, just as he begins to trail down the valley of your breasts. “Can I at least have your name?” His lips wrap around the soft skin of your breast, sucking it in his mouth.

You hiss, pushing at his head. He sucked a little too hard, maybe telling you something by his action, but before you can question it he glances at you back again. “Minho.” He tells you his name, looking into your eyes as you repeat it softly back. You stare at each other for a moment, you moving around a little and just by it you graze over his bulge. Your leg stops in middle of his legs, gaze still unmoving, even if you press your thigh against him. It makes him hiss and you gasp a the sheer size of it. You can see your own desire reflecting in his eyes and he just couldn’t wait anymore.

His hands fly over to his belt, watching you watching his hands as he works to unbuckle his pants. You are holding your breath as he stands up to push down his pants. Your legs immediately press back together as you finally see him. Your lips parted, drooling almost at the size of his cock. Thick, long, veiny, a little curved just to hit those spots deep inside of you with an angry red mushroom tip covered in cum. You are breathing heavier from just the thought of him splitting you open and ruining you for everyone after him.

Minho is breathing through his nose to take in the smell of your emotions, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt and when you sit up, pulling down your skirt, he marvels over the sight of your body covered just in corset and stockings. You looked heavenly funnily enough. When he pushes his shirt from his shoulders you sigh at his muscular body — he was simply perfect. “Turn around.” He demands, voice so low you almost do a double take and when you don’t do immediately as he says, he just does it for you.

He moves you down the couch, turning your body around so your face is pressed into the cushion. Your ass raises in instinct and it grates you a smack across your right cheek. You cry into the couch, the soft skin rippling under his eyes. Then it’s his cock, slapping against you, before laying it flat between your asscheeks. “Fuck, look at that, I’m gonna split this little pussy apart.” You moan back at him, already hazy from just him humping against you teasingly. “Think you can handle it? Oh, you will, all of it—“ He is basically talking to himself right now, already drunk on you.

You are a little concerned, you have never taken something so big, but the thought of him not fucking you dumb is making you whimper like a bitch in heat. You don’t even recognize yourself. You press your ass back at him and Minho only slaps you again, but he finally at that guides his cock to your entrance. The sight of his precum mixing with yours is sending him over the edge, not believing that you are letting him fuck you raw, even if he sees it in the back of your mind. It makes him pull your head back roughly, wanting to watch you crumble on his cock.

You watch him from the corner of your eye, seeing the wild look in his eyes, pretty lips forming into ‘O’ as he finally pushes his tip inside of you. Just that is already too much, but you subconsciously push your hips back at him, swallowing another inch. He lets you adjust, because the way he will fuck you — you will need it. With only hallway through you already feel full to the brim, him already pressing against your cervix, but he is determined to fit all in. He knows you can do it and just after few moments, your ass is finally perfectly flush with his pubic bone.

Your walls suck him right in, wet, warm and soft. He wonders if he is the one being enchanted right now. His hand trails over the string of your garter belt again, loving the way it digs into your ass from how much you arch for him. Minho leans over you again, making him press into you even deeper and he sharply exhale at his tip basically breaks your cervix. “Feel that?” His hand falls down to press at the bulge on your lower tummy. “I’m in your fucking stomach that’s how fucking deep I am—“

“M-Minho—“ He enjoys his name falling from your mouth so much that he accidentally pushes a little too hard against your stomach. To his surprise you only moan louder, hips pushing against him. An open wide smile stretches across his face, watching you move your ass against him.

Your movements are put into stop rather quickly as he pulls out, before pushing into you again with a deep, long thrust. Your mouth is wide open, drooling on the couch already. You feel an abnormal tingling sensation, with his every move of his and with everything that happened that led to this moment it felt worth it. Your pussy molds into a form of his cock, making him smoothly pick up his pace. His one leg on the couch and the other on the ground gives him leverage and with the first sharp thrust of his, you both moan, the sound perfectly mixing with the wet slaps of your skins.

It’s not soft or loving, it’s hard. cock pushing with every move even deeper into you if it’s possible. You are too far gone to do anything other than to take him, your own hand pressing against the bulge in your stomach. It’s sickening how much you enjoy feeling his cock run into you under your hand. Minho has to hiss with every trust in your swollen cunt, hands pinching at your ass and pulling at the strings digging into you. “So g-good— ah!” Your face buries back into the couch, when he snaps at the string, skin burning.

Minho is literally going mad, thrust so harsh, that the couch rocks a little under you both. You can’t believe how much you enjoy feeling pain mixed with pleasure just like he enjoys doing it. The sight of your ass bouncing, hands tearing the material under you and mostly your sounds — he knows that he has to have you someday again. His hand pulls at your hair again, not even missing a beat as he pulls you to his chest. You can’t hold yourself on your own and he helps you rather kindly, with his hand on your neck again, but now he is not being gentle. “Fucking look at you—“ He laughs at your fucked out face staring up at him and he knows he is not looking any better. “Ever thought you would enjoy a demon cock this much?” You choke around the hand on your throat, legs shaking under you. He needs to see more of you, all of you. So he quickly pull out of you, not missing a beat and turning you around to lay you on your back again. You can’t even grumble, because he is inside you back again and the view you have is better than you could’ve asked for.

You don’t say anything, when he rips through the front of your corset, tits spilling out and bouncing immediately with his none stop movements. He spits down right at your nipple, making you gasp at how sensitive it is, feeling his thumb smear the liquid all over you, marking you. Your own hands dig into his hard chest, droopy eyes catching his, before he goes down to your neck, now biting roughly. It makes you arch your back, his sharp teeth piercing you and it doesn’t even hurt half as much as you thought it would.

Moaning, Minho licks at the small drops of blood, eyes rolling back into his head at your sweet taste. Everything about you was so fucking sweet, he can’t believe his own luck right now. Your nipples catch on his, letting you hug him close to you and with the trembling in your legs, he knows you are nearing your orgasm again. “I-I am close—“ You can’t even voice out your words with his rapid moves, feeling yourself drip down on the couch. Your clit rubs deliciously over his pubic bone and with you walls spasming you can feel him twitching inside of you, knowing that he’s getting close too. You just need so desperately something to get you over the edge, something that would make this experience even better and soon those words are spilling out of you. “P-please….kiss me.” You whimper in his ear.

Minho pulls away from your neck, seeing small smear of your blood on those plump lips. “I-I can’t.” He repeats the same words to you and you can’t help, but cry.

“Why?”

“It will tie us together, a kiss will ties us together and you will have to be mine forever.”

He is loosing himself, never he had thought about kissing someone, but yours lips — so perfectly bitten and definitely sweet as every part of you are calling his name. You hear his words, you realize what he is saying, but why would any of you want to end this so soon?

“I want it, I truly want it, Minho—“ Your hands press against each side of his flushed face, his eyes wide, going between your eyes and lips, before he finally leans in.

The whole room around you seems to be set on fire around you, tongues tangling around each other. You taste yourself on his lips and mostly him. You are moaning into him, biting down on his lip, like he did to your neck and he groans lowly when your own teeth breach his skin, mixing your blood now with his. “I’m yours—“ You mumble between kisses, just as you fall apart on him, squeezing him. Minho can’t help, but smile into the kiss, hips stilling as his cock swells, twitching inside of you. He fills with his warm cum, not stopping at kissing you. He will be here every day and every night like this for you and for himself, for eternity, because he found something more pleasure than anything else he ever knew.

And that was you.

[toxicanonymity]

omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!

EVERY INCH 2

2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader

follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3

SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N: He's never unmasked. He is night walks coded. Thank you for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of your engagement & enthusiasm. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, he calls himself daddy, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation, knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names. NO USE OF Y/N. 

SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his.

You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day.  You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror.  He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .

Yeah, his cock.  You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry. 

It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie.  You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted.  You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone.  Your phone is still on silent from the theater.  

The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you. 

You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."

"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."

"What do you want?"

"I asked how you liked the movie." 

Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight.  "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively. 

"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . .  Missed a great kill."

Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion. 

He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”

"wishful thinking," you reply. 

Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”

You’re not even going to argue. 

“How was your date?" 

"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.

"You didn't look interested.” 

"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.

"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”

You freeze. 

He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"

You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"

"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.” 

You scoff. 

". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"

"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."

"Pervert."

“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.

"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.”  His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special.  “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”  

You look out your window, which faces the woods.  "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains.  You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you. 

“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?” 

Are you that predictable?  

“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly.  His breathing becomes audible.  “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . .  .  .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on. 

“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.” 

Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal

“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  You lie there clenching your thighs together. 

“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together.  “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on. 

“Yeah, that’s it . . .”

You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast. 

He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.

You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock. 

"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.” 

He’s right about that.  You close your eyes as you touch yourself.  You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?

“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.” 

"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.” 

You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core. 

“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?” 

You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 

“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl.  Swallowed it right up.” 

“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”

“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.

“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops. 

“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”

You’re getting close.  “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting.  You need a shower. 

—---

You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.

“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.  

“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”

You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  There’s nothing you can do.  You squat down, hugging your knees.  There’s no good option.   

The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.

“My turn, baby."  The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment.  Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked.  He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see. 

The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you.  One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife.  He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.  

He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”  

You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.” 

“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower.  He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. 

He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle.  “Coulda had it how ya wanted.” 

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. 

“Now you’re gonna take it right here.”  He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down.  “You’ve put me behind you after all.”  He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.  He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.

“Who are you?”

“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.

“What do you want?”

“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds. 

He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh.  You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it. 

The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now.  He pants as he thrusts into you harder.  “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel. 

“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly.  “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.” 

He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.”  He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you.  You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own.  Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load.  He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core.  You can’t help but moan and sigh.

“Good girl,” he says.

His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants. 

------

Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on.  He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.

“Now where’s my knife.”

“I don’t have it,” you claim. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s mine.” 

“The cops have it.” 

“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”

You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe.  You look behind him toward the toilet. 

He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.

NEXT: PART 3

--------------------------

Please engage (reblog/comment)  if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.

Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.

Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹

@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.

Slasher master list

@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07

[starmocha]

would you still love me if i was a worm? (and other thought-provoking questions) [Sylus/Reader ★ 2100 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] In which Sylus answers many meaningful drunken questions at 2 AM. A/N: Why have I been clowning on this man 🗿 lowkey based on this post I made before his release lol

It was rather common for Sylus to be up at 2 AM, since in his particular line of work, businesses were best done in the dead of night when most people would be asleep. It didn’t help that the N109 Zone was shrouded in eternal darkness at all times, so the entire concept of time felt rather meaningless to most citizens.

What truly was uncommon for Sylus was receiving a call from you at this time in the middle of the night when you should be slumbering away like most normal citizens. He stared at his phone screen where “Kitten” was so affectionately featured prominently onscreen along with his favorite photo of you. He swiped his thumb across the screen to answer the curious call. Nothing, however, could have prepared the leader of Onychinus with your desperate plea: “Crow Man, come pick me up, pleasssseeee!”

Sylus raised a brow as he held his cellphone tighter in his hand. “Crow Man?”

“Is this not Ca-Caw Man?”

“…are you drunk, sweetie?”

“Mr. Big Ca-Cawk, please pick me upppp!”

Sylus set his phone down on his desk and leaned back in his seat, already massaging his temple in slow circles. He had lavished you with such sweet pet names, and in your darling little head, you had just affectionately bestowed upon him the nickname…Big Ca-Cawk.

Sylus inhaled sharply.

He knew he let you get away with a lot of mischievous things, but perhaps this might be the one time he needed to put his foot down. He held his phone next to his ear again, hearing you sniffled:

“Caw-Caw, do you not like me anymore?”

Damn. You were good.

Sylus huffed softly, finding your drunken speech pattern rather endearing now. With a soft smile on his face, he spoke low, “Far from the truth, sweetie. Now, give me your address.”

You relayed to him the address of a late-night restaurant you were at in Linkon City.

“Stay safe,” Sylus responded, “I’ll be there in twenty.”

The call ended and Sylus heaved another heavy sigh before he stood up. He walked pass where Mephisto was roosting on his perch, and Sylus mumbled thoughtfully to the mechanical crow, “Maybe I should just assign you to monitor her 24/7 from now on.”

Mephisto tilted his head to the side, clearly confused by his owner’s odd words. He cooed quietly in response, watching as Sylus left.

With no speed limit in the N109 Zone, Sylus breezed through the city on his motorcycle in a matter of less than fifteen minutes. Through Linkon City, the street was mostly vacant, and he managed to avoid many of the cop hiding spots. It took him roughly another ten minutes to finally pulled up to the restaurant you said you were at.

As he parked his motorcycle, he took his helmet off, eyes instantly narrowing in anger when he noticed you were backed into a wall by a couple of sober sleazebags. Sylus started to walk up to you, his temper flaring when he heard your feeble protests:

“No…I don’t like this. Go away...”

“Aww, come on, sweetcheeks, you look like you could use a rest at a motel with us.”

“Yeah, it’d be in bad conscious of us if we leave a cute girl like you hanging around on the street like this—”

Sylus had heard enough. His hand tightened into a fist, and thick, dark tendrils wrapped around the two men’s necks, easily lifting them up and sending them hurtling down the block. When they gotten up, ready to assault their attacker, they were instantly frozen with fear from just a simple sharp glare from Sylus. He merely snapped his fingers and new tendrils shot straight down the block at the two men, the sight enough to send them running away in terror.

How fortunate for them. Sylus had other important things on his mind this particular night, or otherwise, he would have felt no qualms with ridding the world of two lowlifes.

When Sylus turned to look at you, his gaze softened considerably, a look of exasperation settled on his handsome features. He approached you slowly, his voice soft and gentle, “Sweetheart…”

His eyes widened in shock when you flung yourself against him, arms wrapped around his waist tightly. You sniffled softly, “Sy-Sy…”

Sylus regained his composure and he smiled down at your head, his hand rubbing your back soothingly. “So I am Sy-Sy now?”

He waited for you to calm down, speaking gentle, comforting words to ease your fears. When he noticed you appeared calmer, he led you to where he had parked. After handing you a helmet, he made sure your arms were wrapped tightly around his waist again before he took off, heading to your apartment.

Once he had arrived to your apartment building, he led you upstairs to your floor. He watched in amusement as you attempted to open the door, unable to get your thumb aligned correctly with the biometrics.

“Here,” he murmured, grabbing your wrist and guiding your thumb to match up with the small screen.

There was a click.

The door opened.

You stared in absolute awe. “Sy-Sy is so amazing…”

Sylus chuckled as he led you inside. “Sweetie, how much did you drink tonight?”

You shrugged. “It was Tara’s birthday…and it was our 5000th wanderer kill…and it was also pay day…and—”

Sylus immediately cut you off, laughing. “I get it,” he said, leading you to your bathroom to help you wash up, “You had a lot to celebrate today.”

He watched you smiled happily as you splashed some cooling water on your face. He helped you removed your jewelry before leading you to your bedroom. Sylus crossed his arms over his chest as he eyed you up and down in your black bodycon dress.

“Now, while I do appreciate seeing you in this dress,” he said with a teasing lecherous smirk, “I don’t think it’ll be comfortable to wear to bed, right?”

You giggled. “Nope!”

Sylus’ eyes widened, completely unprepared when you decided to shamelessly take the dress off yourself and flung it at a chair in your room. You smiled sweetly at him as you stood there in just your bra and panties.

Sylus covered his face, groaning softly. “This girl…” He took another look at you happily smiling away at him with not a single sober thought in your head. He turned away, mumbling, “Stay put.”

He sighed and walked into your closet, muttering to himself as he searched for some sleepwear for you, “You suck at drinking, sweetheart, and yet you let yourself get this drunk…”

After spending about five minutes of searching for some decent sleepwear, Sylus came back out to find you on the bed laying on your side, half-asleep. Sylus sat down on the edge of the bed next to you. He gently shook your shoulder. “Come on, sweetie, as cute as you look like that, you need to get dressed.”

You mumbled sleepily, and Sylus took it upon himself to help you get dressed in an oversized shirt and some shorts. This task felt rather foreign to him, since he was honestly more used to doing the complete opposite. As if reading his mind, you fell against him giggling again once you were fully dressed. “Are you going to take my bra off, too, Sy-Sy?”

He groaned again, his brain about to explode. “Sweetie, you are testing me.”

You giggled again and batted your eyelashes at him.

He smirked, slipping his hands under your shirt from behind and expertly unhooked your bra, tossing it to the side with your earlier abandoned dress. “It’s a good thing I am such a gentleman who doesn’t like taking advantage of intoxicated women.”

“Sy-Sy is the sweetest,” you agreed solemnly. You leaned up and clumsily kissed him, catching him off-guard for just a few seconds before he chuckled against the kiss, pecking your lips lightly. He pulled away first, amused when he saw your look of disappointment at how quickly the kiss ended.

Sylus pinched your cheek, eliciting a pained yelp that stirred you fully awake. “Next time, you are not allowed to get yourself drunk without me around,” he scolded you firmly, though his facial expression was more gentle than angry.

“But it was pay day…”

One sharp look from Sylus had you clamming up. When he turned away, you let out a soft whine, “Wait…are you leaving me?”

He turned back just in time to see a pout forming on your face. He sighed for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night, giving you a slow shake of his head. He knew he was coddling you too much tonight, but he couldn’t bear to leave you alone in such a disoriented state. “Of course not, sweetie,” he answered with a smile, “I’m just going to turn off the lights.”

Once the lights were out, Sylus made his way back over to the bed. He chuckled in amusement as you scooted to the center, giving the empty space next to you an enthusiastic pat. Sylus climbed into bed, happy when you cuddled up to him.

“Caw-Caw, I have a question…”

“So it’s Caw-Caw again?” he asked bemused, and then muttered more to himself, “I think I’d rather you call me Sy-Sy instead… What is it, sweetie?”

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

“Sweetie, I would feed you to Mephisto,” he answered, not missing a single beat.

“Noooo…” you whined at him with tears brimming in your eyes. You weakly pawed at his arm with little fists, pleading, “Don’t feed me to Mephie…”

“Mephie?” he laughed, astonished that now you had taken the liberty of nicknaming his mechanical crow.

“I won’t taste good,” you insisted with a sweet pout.

“Personally, I think you taste divine,” Sylus teased with the double-entendre, but in your drunken state, you didn’t catch the double meaning. You could only sniffle sadly at him. He rubbed your cheek affectionately with the back of his hand, his crimson eyes seemed so bright in the darkness.

“Sy-Sy…”

“Hmm?” Sylus propped himself up on his elbow, his chin cradled in his hand as he peered down at you snuggled up close to him again.

“Where does the light go when you close the fridge door?”

“Drunk you is just full of silly questions, huh?”

You continued, not caring that he didn’t give you an actual answer to your previous inquiry, “Why do we make round pizza, put it in a square box, just to eat it as a triangle?”

Sylus blinked, sighing, feeling at a complete loss for words. “When you are sober, I’ll make sure to look up the answer for you, sweetie.”

“Sy-Sy?”

“What now?”

“Life is soup.”

Sylus raised his brow in complete confusion, not understanding a single damn word out of your mouth now. He didn’t even know how to respond to the odd comment, so he just continued to stare at you, hoping for a follow-up.

“And I am a fork.”

Sylus pulled you into his arms, laying on his back with you on top of him. “Alright, sweetie, it’s time for bed now.”

You giggled, rubbing your face against his soft shirt, inhaling deeply the faint scent of cologne on him. You sighed happily, smelling the familiar comforting, warm and woodsy fragrance on him. “Would you…” You yawned and rubbed your drowsy eyes, “love me if I shrink down to the size of your thumb?”

“Sweetheart, I’ll just have to keep you safe in my pocket.” Sylus brushed the flyaway hair away from your face, his expression tender as he gazed at your sweet, sleepy face resting on top of his chest. Even though he knew by morning, you wouldn’t remember a single thing from this night, Sylus still couldn’t help but voiced his thoughts and feelings aloud.

“I adore you,” he said, hushed, the weight of his words hung heavy in the stillness of the bedroom, “More than you will ever know.”

You yawned again, burrowing deeper into his embrace. “I love you, too, Mr. Big Ca-Cawk.”

Sylus could do nothing but laughed resignedly, his arms wrapped securely around you, holding you close to his body, the soft warmth of you against him was calming. Sylus felt a strange mixture of both happiness and bemusement by your drunk words, knowing your intoxicated state was also your most honest side, revealing to him the depths of your feelings for him. He kissed the top of your head, letting his eyes closed to rest as well, as he murmured, “Sweet dreams, you silly girl.”

[eclipseslayer]

SIT. DRINK.

➭ TOJI FUSHIGURO X F!READER SMUT ONESHOT

➭ SUMMARY: Your dad calls you over to sit in front of him, and he orders you to finish off his beer. Enthused with your obedience, he takes advantage of that.

➭ CW: DARK CONTENT. Incest, forced drinking, cockwarming, deep throating, Toji is meanish, Toji calls you 'kid' and 'sweetheart'.

➭ WC: 1.5kish

➭ A/N: Hello! I've done a drabble with icky!dad!Toji before, and honestly I really like doing them... so I'm wondering if I should make a series/compilation or something with icky!dad!Toji?? 👀 lmk in the comments or my ask box!! :) N e wayz enjoyyy.

"Come 'ere. Sit."

Toji points at the floor in front of him with his beer bottle, and you look up from your book you're reading.

Your eyes widen and you swallow thickly, knowing your dad wants something. It always puts a little fear in you, because your dad is disgusting. He's a grumpy, divorced, old man who got stuck with some kid out of wedlock, who happened to be you, so now he treats you like some sort of object, something to be used.

As much as you loathe him for it, a part of you actually loves it, though you don't think you'd ever admit that to yourself, at least, not out loud.

You close your book, and you get up. You slowly walk over to him, carpet brushing against the soles of your feet as you drag them, trying to take your time as you walk over to the old man.

Toji sees you taking your sweet time and he scoffs. He points to the floor again, and his beer sloshes in his bottle.

"I said, sit," his tone is harsher this time, almost spitting out his words.

With a huff, you nod and you pick up your pace. You then plop yourself onto your knees in front of your dad, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow, already knowing what he wants.

He leans back against the couch to get a good view of you. A wry grin appears etched onto his face as that scar of his quirks up, and those green eyes of his darken while a drunken gaze drinks in the sight of you.

His gaze makes you nervous, as you hardly ever know what he wants from you. You know you're here to be used, but you just don't know how, and that's what makes you so nervous. His jade eyes always make your heart thump in your chest as they always have something conniving cooking.

Suddenly, he thrusts his bottle out to you and he presses the glass opening of it against your lips. You blink quickly as you catch a quick whiff of the beer—cheap, and wheaty—and look back up at him.

"Drink. Finish this off for me."

"I—" You're about to try to defend yourself, as you're not looking to drink tonight, but your dad tuts, shaking his head disapprovingly. He reaches out and grips the root of your hair with his free hand and pushes your mouth against the tip of the glass bottle, forcing it into your mouth.

"I said, drink. Jesus, are you having a hard time hearing me tonight?" He mutters, and his words slur, clearly drunk.

You let out a whine and a grumble and you tilt your head back, allowing for the liquid to pour into your throat. There's about a half of the bottle left, so Toji makes you chug it, and he watches with narrowed as eyes as you drink.

"There we go... good girl..."

Fuck. You hated it when he praised you. He only praised you whenever you did his "evil" bidding, which is why you didn't mind doing it so much. You loved the praise, and he knew it, which is why you're so obedient to him. It's a constant cycle of you needing praise, and receiving it after you do something for him, and, you couldn't get enough. Sometimes, some of the things he made you do felt so good that you truly hadn't minded at all.

It was toxic, but... you honestly couldn't get enough of it, which is also why you hadn't moved out of the house yet.

His praise was addicting.

Once you finish the beer, your mouth leaves the bottle with a satisfying pop, and Toji hums. He runs a hand through your hair and sighs as he places the empty bottle with the rest of them, on the stand next to the couch.

He pats your face with a large, calloused hand and sighs, leaning against the couch again. His large frame takes up the majority of it, and his thick long legs are spread out in a man-spread.

He reaches down into his pants and you hear the faint sound of scratching. He yawns, looking at the TV briefly before turning his head back to you. You look at him, awaiting further instructions, and he chuckles, and you assume another idea has popped into his head.

"You got an oral fixation, right, sweetheart?" He slurs, and, honestly doesn't care if you do or not as he starts pulling down his sweatpants, the hem of them fits around his thighs so well.

"I... yes, I do," you reply, watching him as he now takes his hand and slides down his underwear around his thighs, as he reveals his, big, hard cock, sitting heavily on his stomach.

Toji raises an eyebrow and he hiccups. He nods and sighs. "That's right... I knew ya did, kid. I know you like suckin' on my dick, but you just don't wanna admit it, right?" He grins, and he watches as you shift on your knees, your gaze averting his. His grin widens.

"Ah, knew it," he sighs, and he leans forward with his cock in one hand, and presses the tip against your mouth, and, so willingly, you open it up for him, accepting him into your mouth.

He groans once he feels your warm, wet mouth, and he closes his eyes, leaning his head back. He takes a minute before he looks down at you.

"Just keep your mouth like this for me while I watch TV. I'll get you a fuckin' candy bar or somethin' if you suck me off," he chuckles, and you furrow your eyebrows because he still treats you like a little kid, rewarding you with dumb shit.

Nevertheless, you sigh, accepting this as you keep him in your mouth. Not like you're going to complain anyway. This was one of your favorite things to do for your dad, simply because it just felt so good to have something so thick fill up your mouth.

So, you sit for awhile as he leans back against the couch, watching TV. You don't move your mouth—just enjoying how good he feels—for about ten minutes until you feel your jaw start to hurt.

That's when you start moving your head, pushing your mouth all the way to his pelvis, and then pulling back until you're suckling on his tip.

Toji groans at this and turns his head back to you. He sighs, and he grips your hair, and begins guiding your wet mouth along his cock.

He revels in the feeling of your mouth, enjoying how tight and warm it gets when you hallow your cheeks, and when you do that little thing with your tongue.

His head leans back, looking down at you as he admires how good you look, sucking on his cock. Sure, it was wrong, but that was why he drank, to get the mental block out of his head so he could easily get his dick wet. You were never one to say no. Hell, he wasn't sure why you were so easy, but he wasn't going to knock the opportunity.

You, on the other hand, are having such a good time as you moan softly on his cock, loving the feeling of how good he feels in your mouth. He feels so good that you're drooling on his cock, making a mess of it all over his length. You soon add your hand to the mix, pumping the length of his shaft while your mouth drools all over the tip, licking and sucking so fervently that it has Toji cursing under his breath.

"Shit, kid, fuck, your mouth does such a good job..." He groans and a big hand grips your hair tightly once more, guiding you along his cock, except, he decides to cruelly change the pace up, making it so his cock hits the back of your throat.

You let out a gag in surprise, your eyes widening and your hands quickly move to grip his thighs. His thick cock bullies into the back of your throat as you let out choked moans.

Saliva coats his dick, and drips down to his balls as you're uncontrollably salivating all over him, simply because that big tip of his bruises the back of your throat, allowing for no control over your mouth.

He groans with almost every thrust, and his breath gets heavy. He chuckles as he sees you struggle to take him, your hands gripping his thighs so tightly that he finds it so hilarious as he lets out yet another mean chuckle.

"That's right... gonna cum in this mouth, yeah? How's that for ya?" He grins wickedly, and, with one, two, three more thrusts, he slams your nose against his pelvis, leaving you choking on his dick as his cum suddenly spurts into your mouth. Load after load fills your throat, and you swallow it quickly.

Your nose scrunches up at the taste, as it damn near tastes like battery acid from the amount of beer he just had. You want to choke it up, but you know better, and so you swallow each spurt of cum until he rips his cock out of your throat.

He watches with a satisfied gaze as you choke for air, leaning over his thighs.

"Good girl." He reaches down into his pants pocket and fishes out a couple yen bills. "Go buy a candy bar at the corner store or somethin'. I don't fuckin' know."

[jellyfishsthings]

Hold Your Breath My Darling

WARNINGS: angst, like super angst, lovesick and whipped Spencer, earlier seasons Spencer, Hotch trained reader, Ex spy, fem reader, dying (or coming close to it), panic attacks, typical criminal minds violence... there will be a part two soon, please let my know if I am missing anything else

requests are open

part 2

The BAU team arrived at the small town of Crescent Hills, ready to investigate a series of gruesome murders. The victims all shared similar physical characteristics. The team quickly realized that the killer was targeting women who looked exactly like you, the same hair, the same eyes and somehow personality, which had to be the scarriwst part of them all.

As the team discussed their next move, Spencer couldn't help but stare at her. She was the spitting image of the victims, but she seemed unfazed by the situation. In fact, she suggested that she pose as bait in order to catch the killer. She was the agent her mentor made her, because Hotch would have done the same in a heartbeat. Yet as Hotch looked at the young woman standing at his side, standing tall and holding her head high with pride and bravery, wearing a mask of calmness hiding her whirlwind of emotions with quite the efficiency.

Spencer's heart skipped a beat at the thought of his best friend putting herself in danger. His hands shook with dread and anxiety and his mind raced to a million directions as his heart seemed to weight a few tons more than usual. He was so confused. He had always seen her as a friend, but in that moment, he couldn't deny the intense feelings he had for her. Yes he had always cared for her, and wouldn't wish any harm in her way, but at this moment he desperately wished to have been the genius he claimed to be, to find a way out of this, to solve this without any one getting hurt, to keep her safe and alive and well next to him, hoping she felt even a sliver of the intesity of his emotions. He knew he couldn't let her go through with this plan. He had to act quickly, not caring if he embarrassed himself in the process.

"You can't do this, it's too dangerous," Spencer pleaded with her, his eyes shining with unshead tears as he saw her walking in her hotel room, trying to make herself more appealing for the UnSub.

"I can handle myself, Spencer," she replied confidently."Do not worry. I have been trained from the best." She whispered as she lightly hugged him and kissed his cheeks and the storm raging inside of him seemed to calm down for a few short seconds.

But Spencer couldn't shake off the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her. He had been so focused on his work and solving the case that he hadn't even realized his true feelings for her until now. As the team set up a plan, Spencer couldn't help but keep a close eye on her. He couldn't let her out of his sight. But as she put herself in harm's way, Spencer's heart was in his throat

The warehouse was quiet, the ominous shadows twisting around the corners like specters waiting to strike and fear started clawing its way to her heart. Derek Morgan’s voice echoed in her mind; “You’re one of us, kiddo. Trust your instincts.” But in this moment, trust felt like an anchor dragging her deeper into despair.

She was second guessing herself now as well as her abilities. Maybe she had made a mistake. She had volunteered without hesitation, knowing the stakes were high. A string of brutal murders had terrorized several towns, and the Behavioral Analysis Unit needed to understand what made this killer tick. But she had never expected that the very thing she sought to uncover would entrap her instead.

As she stepped deeper into the warehouse, darkness enveloped her like a suffocating blanket. The cold was biting, but the fear coursed through her veins like ice. She had set off the sound of a chilling recording, a mocking lure that had been crafted specifically for the UnSub. The air was alive with tension, every creak of the old metal structure amplifying her dread.

“Just breathe,” she murmured to herself, but her heart raced faster with every passing second. Somehow, despite the adrenaline's flow, she felt an unsettling calm, as if her body was preparing for something inevitable.

She thought of the team back at the BAU. Hotch would be analyzing their data, Emily and Derek keeping their wits about them, and as she closed her eyes, she could almost hear Spencer Reid’s gentle voice. He was always a soothing presence, with his deep well of knowledge and quirky sense of humor.

“Remember when I tried to teach you how to play chess?” he whispered in her mind, a memory flooding back. They had been at a coffee shop breaking down a case when she had confided that she hadn’t learned the game as a child. With a persistent twinkle in his eye, he taught her the basics, patiently explaining the rules as she fumbled through the moves. They laughed when she mistakenly thought pawns could move diagonally anytime.

In this dark warehouse, she recalled how he had once said, “You have to think several moves ahead. In chess, just as in life.” She held onto that wisdom now, fighting to stifle her panic.

The quiet was shattered by footsteps echoing through the maze of crates and rusted metal. She steeled herself, adrenaline rushing through her as the UnSub emerged from the shadows. He was a tall figure, cloaked in darkness, his face obscured by a mask that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Welcome,” he said, his voice low and taunting. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

She fought the surge of terror that threatened to overwhelm her. How? How had he been expecting her? She was a trained spy for the love of God, before joining the BAU, had she rusted her abilities this quickly? It had only been five years. Five wonderful, free years.

She couldn’t falter. In her mind, she anchored herself to another memory: a sunny afternoon with Reid. They had shared ice cream on a picnic blanket, debating the best flavors like children. He had quipped that pistachio was underappreciated, while she insisted on the classic chocolate chip cookie dough.

“You’re practically a gourmet, aren’t you?” she teased, and his laugh had brightened that day, sunlight dancing in his eyes.

But now, there were no sunny picnics; shadows danced along the walls as the UnSub advanced towards her. She could see glimmers of rage flickering in his eyes, an intensity that struck fear into her heart.

“Let’s see just how strong you are,” he hissed, gripping her arms in a vice-like hold. She gasped as pain shot through her, but even as she winced, she summoned the memory of Reid, who had taught her the importance of mindfulness in the face of fear.

“Leave me alone!” she shouted, fueling her resolve with every ounce of anger she could muster.

But he laughed, a cruel sound that sent tremors of dread through her. The sharpness of reality cut through her feelings of safety, and she swallowed hard, desperately piecing together scattered memories, trying to fund the best course of action but it was already to late. She felt sluggish and slow, something was wrong.

She tried to find the good memories, to find courage and strength, such as Reid’s infinite patience, his love for obscure trivia, the whimsical way he could make her smile even in the darkest of moments.

“Your game is over,” the UnSub snarled, his breath hot against her skin.

As he began to carry out his twisted intentions, she closed her eyes tightly, conjuring one last memory, one that radiated warmth in the encroaching darkness. The night Reid had confessed his fears of inadequacy, only to find solace in their bond, his fingers grazing hers in comforting reassurance, his eyes reflecting the kind of understanding that only comes from empathy.

“I’m not afraid,” she whispered, even as fear clawed at her soul. “No matter what happens, I’m not afraid. I will not give you the satisfaction of the perfect murder, trust me it will be a fight to bring me down.”

"Oh, but you have already lost. I think you must be feeling it be now."

Her heart pounded with the realization that she might not escape. But in those harrowing moments, as she fought against the loop of pain and despair, she anchored herself in the love and camaraderie of her team—every shared laugh, every overcoming of hardship. No matter what happened, they would carry her spirit forward.

In those last flickers of consciousness, she thought of Spencer, his brilliance, his laugh, and the unyielding strength of their bond. She hoped he would forgive her for failing to bring him the answers they so desperately needed, all while holding onto the belief that even the darkest of nights must give way to dawn.

With that thought, she embraced the memories that would never fade, hoping they would echo in the hearts of those she loved, a reminder that even in their darkest hours, they could find light.

Then the darkness came.

The cold grip of fear tightened around Spencer Reid's heart as he stood in the dimly lit acting conference room of the BAU, a small desk office of the local police station. The air was thick with tension and the weight of impending decisions that could alter their fates. He paced the floor anxiously, running a hand through his tousled hair while his mind raced with worst-case scenarios.

“Guys, we can’t go through with this,” he implored, turning to face his team, his voice a tremor of desperation. “The unsub is more unpredictable than we anticipated, and we can’t risk her life. What if—”

“It’s not just about her,” Derek Morgan countered, crossing his arms. “This mission aims to take down a dangerous criminal. We need to act fast before he slips through our fingers again.”

“But what if he targets her, Morgan?” Spencer’s voice escalated, echoing in the room. “I've analyzed his patterns. If she’s involved, she’s at extreme risk. We can’t afford to lose her!”

Emily Prentiss, caught between the mounting urgency and Reid’s grave expression, glanced at the other agents. “We have to trust our instincts, Spencer, but you know we all understand the risk involved. We can deploy a secondary team to protect her—”

“No!” Reid snapped, panic threading his tone. “You don’t understand. I can’t shake this feeling. What if this is a trap? She shouldn’t be there. We need to stop this. We need to call it off.”

The room fell silent as his pleas hung in the air, but time was running out, and the team had a job to do. With reluctant determination, they gathered their gear and left the conference room, unknowingly walking into the lion’s den.

Spencer’s heart raced as he followed them, a whirlwind of dread washing over him. They arrived at the location of the suspected meeting and quickly fanned out, but dread settled deeper in his chest as time ticked away.

Minutes felt like hours, and Reid’s worries morphed into a nightmare. Suddenly, over the comms, a shout broke through the chaos, and panic pierced the stillness. “She’s down! She’s down!”

Spencer’s instinct kicked in, but it felt like running through molasses as he pushed past his teammates. His breath quickened dramatically. He reached the scene, and there she was—Her body lay still against the cold asphalt, pale and lifeless.

Everything around him blurred as the sirens wailed in the distance, blending into an agonizing scream that reverberated in his mind. He dropped to his knees beside her, an overwhelming despair crashing down like a tidal wave. “No, no, no…” he chanted, disbelief coursing through him as the realization sank in.

He placed his hands on her chest, feeling the emptiness where her spirit should have been. “Stay with me. Please,” he whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks as he started CPR. Each pump felt futile, desperation fueling his actions—A metronome to the rhythm of her fading heartbeat.

“Come on, please! Breathe, breathe!” Spencer’s voice cracked as he pressed harder, not willing to accept the undeniable truth standing stark against reality—a truth that seemed to throng his senses.

Suddenly, strong hands pulled him backward. “Spencer, let the medics handle this,” a voice shouted through the fog of his anguish. It was Morgan, trying to wrestle him back to reality.

“No! I can’t! I won’t let her go!” Reid screamed, thrashing against the hold, fighting against the gravity of grief. But the world around him was collapsing, everything turning hazy, the wail of the sirens growing louder, drowning him in despair.

“Spencer!” Morgan’s voice cut through the fog, but it felt distant, as if coming from underwater. He was pulled away from the scene, from her cold body that lay so still. The agents moved in, the medics began their work, but Reid felt as if a piece of himself was being torn apart, the agonizing reality sinking its teeth deeper into his soul.

He fell to his knees, the weight of his failure crashing into him like a heavy stone, unyielding and unforgiving. Tears streamed down his face as he watched helplessly, the ache in his chest mimicking a gaping wound.

Desperation clawed at him as he realized that no amount of pleading or data could bring her back. And in that moment, the chaos of the world faded away, and all he knew was a profound loss that reverberated through every fiber of his being.

And then the impossible happened. She was still bleeding, covered in deep cuts by a knife that would scar her for life. Yet her chest lifted lightly before falling down.

Once.

Twice.

He was sure he was dreaming of it. His mind playing a trick on him, not being ready to register his life without her existence.

But no.

It was true. She was breathing.