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blkkizzat · 8 months

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ღ 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞!𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 ღ

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐨𝐟 𝟐 (part 1)

18+ONLY MDNI

kizzatober series: Smooth Criminals

Kinktober Prompts: Clothed Male/Naked Female, Thigh Riding, Knife Play Synopsis: The university campus is being terrorized by a copycat Ghostface killer. As a popular sorority girl with a dumb jock bf, you are a prime choice to be his next victim especially given how he can't stop thinking about you. But you're no ordinary Sorority Girl bimbo, now are you? CW: AU college fic. blood obsession/hematolagnia, bimbo reader, murder, slight DV/SA mentions (from your npc jerk ass bf), unprotected sex, masturbation, LOTS of teasing/foreplay, slight age gap (roughly 21 vs 28) and dark content. NOTE: If death/killer romanticization related shit triggers you this is probably a fic to avoid because that is happening all through this bitch. I literally wrote a murder fluff smut fic lmfao. WC: 9.9 of 15.4k Lightly black fem coded (reader is an AKA lmfao) but no descriptors.

A/N: I had no idea so many people would be this hyped for Part 2. No really, I'm shocked! But It gets real here peoples! Lots of smut and dark shit below so please read the content warnings! I don't want no crying in the mentions and DMs cause y'all should know how out of pocket I am by now and I took it there lmfao.

If you riding with me still Thank You for putting up with my OCD bullshit and for all the support, comments and reblogs on Part 1! y'all real asf & ilysm

Enjoy!

Previously:

“Whatever, let’s fucking go Y/N. We have an important party to throw later.”

Dean grabs your wrist and jerks you away with you barely being able to grab your bag.

Your stomach twists and you are at a complete loss for words but manage to flash an apologetic look at Choso while you are dragged off.

However when your eyes meet he looks right through you.

The expression on his face is stone cold and it sends a chill up your spine.

☠

Sigh.

For the first time ever in your life you are miserable at a party.

To say you had been excited leading up to today would have been an understatement. The initiation party after rush was one of the biggest events in the greek system and you had led the charge this year in planning the party.

Nevertheless, any cheerful enthusiasm you held had been trampled on by the disaster that had taken place earlier in the day with Choso.

If getting out of going wouldn’t be more trouble than it was worth you would have faked being sick. It’s not like you hadn’t already stressed yourself into a headache.

Yet here you were suffering through, completely sober. Not even being able to bring yourself to drink away your problems.

How could you even pretend to enjoy yourself when your forced smile cracked as soon as the mental image of Choso’s icy expression looped through your mind?

Your chest got a little tighter each time you remembered and it frazzled your nerves.

Just about everyone and everything annoyed you right now.

Even the party: Hunter vs Hunted, one of your favorites, was soured.

Typically the theme entailed girls dressed up as various exotic animals or woodland creatures and the boys dressed as safari game hunters or woodsmen. But this time around, no thanks to singular frat boy hivemind, they all got the bright idea to collectively cosplay as Ghostface.

Taking a new meaning on Hunter.

They couldn’t carry knives on campus of course so they all carried around metal bats which they probably stole from the baseball team.

Sure, let’s all dress up as the masked serial killer while he is still on the loose.

You rolled your eyes.

The pilfered bats were a hazard waiting to happen too. You could only be thankful that the party was at Dean’s frat and not your own sorority so him and the rest of those idiots could fuck their own shit up once they inevitably got way too hammered and started swinging them around.

You mostly just wished they hadn’t changed the plan without telling you.

Then at least you could have dressed up in line with the horror theme and wouldn’t have had to wear this sexy Bambi costume which although skimpy, the fur parts made it way too hot to be wearing in a crowded party indoors.

On edge and not being able to leave, you did the next best thing and sequestered yourself in the kitchen pantry.

It was spacious and a lot cooler than the rest of the house.

You made yourself look busy in there by restocking snacks and making sure there was an ample supply of red cups ready to go around for the keg.

When someone did notice you tucked away, you gave the best fake smile you could muster and made-up an excuse not to join in on whatever drinking game they were playing promising you would ‘catch up in a minute.’

Fortunately for you, most of your friends and sorority sisters were a bit too faded by this point to notice you missing and never joining in.

Maybe a bit longer and you could slip out unnoticed?

That was your plan at least until you felt Dean throw an arm over you from behind.

“There you are babe!”

Urgh.

The overwhelming ick and nausea you felt from him touching you rivaled your worst hangover.

You immediately shrug him off.

“Come on babe don’t be like that. Get a freshman to take over. We're gonna play rage cage.”

You threw Dean a wary look.

You try to tell him you aren’t in the mood but of course your selfish dickhead of a boyfriend ignores you.

Dean then proceeds to pull your arm and lead you out of the pantry through the kitchen.

On a different day you probably would have just given in, easier to go along with the flow than cause an issue. Today however was different and the last thing in the world you wanted to do was play fucking rage cage with a bunch of horny frat boys who were just trying to get girls drunk enough to fuck.

“Goddamnit, Dean I said no!”

Your tolerance had boiled past its limits.

You forcibly snatch your hand back, knocking some empty bottles over on the counter in the process which come crashing down to the floor shattering into pieces.

Your words and movements dripped with so much aggression you surprised yourself, Dean and the people around you who had turned to see what the commotion was.

”No? No? You’re really telling me no Y/N? After you’ve been acting like a fuckin’ bitch all day since I crashed your make out session with that freak.”

Immediately self-conscious, your eyes darted around the crowd of people that had now turned their full attention toward you.

You hated confrontation and never wanted to be that couple fighting at a party.

Ducking down quickly, you begin to pick up the shattered pieces of bottled glass on the floor.

The pounding of your headache against your temples grew feverishly and the harsh fluorescent kitchen lights started to make you feel faint, you hoped Dean would just let this go if you backed down.

“Look, we’ll talk about that later, ok? Just please don’t be an asshole Dean, I really don’t feel good right now.”

You pleaded with him, quietly trying to quell the situation.

But true to his infamous asshole nature, Dean wasn’t going to let you off so easily. He wanted to humiliate you as he felt you humiliated him in front of his friends earlier with that nobody loser.

”Now, I’m the asshole?” Dean questioned to his frat brothers smugly.

“Hey, maybe I am for having a girlfriend like Y/N, who would slut herself out for a grade in front of the entire quad!”

Dean had all but yelled that last part out. Your drunken clown of a boyfriend didn’t care if he caused a scene at your expense.

Now you had the full attention of everyone in the kitchen.

You took a shaky breath as you stood up and felt the crunch of broken glass beneath your heels.

An unfamiliar sensation of rage rises within you.

It really wasn’t in your nature to be angry even when you were upset, you mostly just cried but now you were pissed to say the least.

He has some fucking nerve.

Especially when you knew no one starting on the football team studied at all and were all automatically passed through whatever easy bullshit major they signed up for.

“Dean–”

You start yet pause for a moment, trying to keep your cool.

“–you know how hard I study.”

Twisting the proverbial knife in your back to wind you up further Dean continued.

“Yeah, Y/N That's what’s so pathetic about it. You get Bs. That pussy ain’t even good enough for an A. I would know.”

Collective gasps, snickers and whispers arose from around the kitchen. Word had spread of your fighting as more people gathered in the doorway.

Typically this is where you would have run off crying. However, you were exhausted mentally and emotionally. You had already cried for a good hour today while getting ready.

The only emotions you had readily available to tap into was the hidden well of resentment and ire you held for Dean.

“And how would you even know what good pussy is Dean? You can’t last longer than two pumps, is it not all the same for you?”

You snapped back.

Your fists had formed into a tight ball.

You are so enraged you can’t even feel the prick from the broken glass bottle still in your hand puncturing your skin.

How long has it been since you stood up for yourself?

You can’t remember the last time you even fought with anyone like this but it felt good seeing the smug look on his face fall as his friends around him jeered and laughed.

“I know how to settle this Y/N.”

Dean mused as he yanked one of your sorority sisters nearby toward you.

“How ‘bout we ask Aaliyah then, eh? She got more than 2 pumps last weekend after you left the party to go chase after Ghostface–”

Your head snaps to your AKA sister in question, Aaliyah, who looked like she saw a cursed spirit as all the color drained from her face. Her eyes shamefully hit the floor before they met your gaze.

She couldn’t even look at you which only further solidified Dean’s accusations.

So Dean himself confirmed he’d been cheating on you? Cool.

With your own Sorority sister, who you considered one of your besties since you both rushed together?

Even better.

Blood slowly trickled out of your hand to drip on the floor from how rigidly you held onto the glass but the small red puddle went unnoticed as your whole vision was already saturated with the color red when you looked at Dean who hadn’t even finished his disrespectful tirade.

“–Although on second thought, it was probably an excuse for you to go suck off that loser freak TA of yours right?”

More heckles erupted from the crowd around you and you don’t think you have ever hated someone so much in your life as you hated Dean right at this moment.

Sure you were upset with Aaliyah but your fury was purely focused on Dean.

He had some nerve to start so much shit earlier over an almost-kiss when he was fucking your good friend behind your back.

“And how fucking out of her mind was she then, huh Dean? Would she even remember? You pathetic piece of shit...”

You get directly in his face.

“...that limp dick of yours fumbles orgasms like you fumble passes. That’s why we lost the big game last week. And guess what? That's also why we’re now OVER!”

Dean’s bulky build towers over you but he might as well have been 3 feet tall to you as the razor edge of your words eviscerate him.

“So who’s the fucking loser now Dean?”

Everyone in the room was stunned into silence by the venom dripping from someone they had never even heard raise their voice before.

You don't notice anyone else's reactions though as suddenly you became hyperaware of the large fractured piece of bottled glass cutting into you.

Your eyes flickered back to Dean as your hand twitches.

For a fleeting moment you felt an inkling urge to drive the glass in your hand directly into Dean’s smug ass face.

Yet whatever dark fury burned in you was instantly snuffed out as you felt a flood of cold bitter beer splash down on you from Dean’s red solo cup.

”Why don’t you cool off for a bit dear,” Dean cooed at you, mocking you and your now ruined Bambi costume as he and the frat boys around you started to roar with laughter.

That was it.

You were done.

Dean had succeeded in humiliating you.

Any contention or further will to fight within you had dissipated the moment you were doused in beer.

The glass in your hand drops onto the ground as a dull ache radiates from your wound that continues to seep blood onto the floor.

“I hope you realize this is the last time an AKA will grace this sorry ass frat for a party. I’ll see to that. Enjoy the rest of your night fellas!”

The icy air of your words contrasted with the perfect pageant smile you gave them and it unsettled those around you especially as they all notice the blood gushing from your hand.

The crowd immediately parts as you leave. No one dares utter a word to you as you exit the party through the side kitchen door.

You can feel your phone go off as you get a flurry of group texts and missed facetimes. Most of your sisters weren’t even in the kitchen to witness the scene.

You respond to the group chat to tell them just to stay and enjoy the party and turn your phone on ‘do not disturb.’

You just wanted to be alone.

You’d deal with the fallout tomorrow.

☠

Choso wore a twisted grin hidden under his Ghostface mask.

The hunter vs hunted party meant a perfect time for him to hunt.

Leaning against a building Choso was shrouded in the dark cover of shadows far removed from campus lights.

Old habits, he mused. There was really no need for him to hide at all tonight.

He could actually walk around openly as Ghostface now without causing alarm seeing as how most of those fraternity morons were dressed up like him tonight.

This made things even easier.

Choso scanned the area for his next prey.

Someone, anyone alone would do.

Choso had been itching to spill blood since he had the enticing inclination to slash your boyfriend’s throat earlier.

Currently he wanted nothing more than to see a violent geyser of blood spurt from his next victim. Having it be a shithead frat guy would only sweeten the kill so he had stalked close to frat row for his latest victim.

There.

Seeing movement in the distance, a lone figure, Choso cautiously advances trailing in the shadows towards them until they come into focus under the street lights.

He nearly does a double take when he recognizes it's you.

Shouldn’t Miss-Perfect-Social-Butterfly be having the time of her life right now with her cretins being crowned queen of the frats or something?

Choso thought bitterly.

That is, until he got a good look at you.

You were wet and shivering as you failed to sniff back the tears pouring down your face.

Despite his desire to stay angry with you, his jaw involuntarily clenches as he had never seen you this upset before.

Something had happened.

Choso confused look turns deadly as vision travels down to see you nursing the hand you cradled to your chest. He recognizes blood running down your forearm to stain your already soiled costume.

A territorial urge swelled within him, not knowing you had inflicted your own injury.

You were his prey.

It was unforgivable for someone else to spill what was his to enjoy.

Choso immediately concluded the cause of it was Dean.

Boyfriend or not he would gladly gut that motherfucker at the drop of a dime.

He hadn’t forgotten how roughly he had dragged you off earlier.

And more importantly how you had let that asswipe drag you off. That honestly had fired his temper more than anything.

A storm of conflicting feelings, Choso yearns to see more of your blood splattered on the ground as much as he secretly covets to have you writhing underneath him.

Should he approach you?

No. Not yet.

Although, he would never have a more perfect chance than now to kill you if he was ever actually going to go through with it.

Securing his knife on the inside of his robe, Choso silently propels himself after you.

Never falling too far behind, he vigilantly watches you from a distance as both your protector and predator.

☠

A warm shower was just what you needed but you were pissed you had to wash your hair 3 times to get the smell of Milwaukee's out, which proved insanely hard to do with one functioning hand.

You could have killed Dean.

No actually though, as you remembered the dark seething compulsion you felt.

You weren’t sure what had gotten into you earlier.

Pushing those thoughts to the side though you focused on the gash in your hand, it was pretty gnarly.

You were just thankful the first aid kid in your sorority house had enough gauze and tape until you could get to the campus nurse tomorrow.

You probably needed stitches as any sudden movements had the fragile skin of your palm bleeding again.

Returning to your room in a comfy pink cotton bra and thong you throw your towel over a chair.

You start to reach for your fluffy robe when you see Choso’s black track jacket on your desk. It still had the small coffee stains on it from earlier but you opted to slip into it anyway.

Truthfully, you lied to him.

You hadn’t just been carrying it around waiting to give it back to him.

You had worn it more times this past week than you would willingly admit to anyone.

You even took it on purpose instead of your actual jacket this morning not actually thinking you would run into Choso but when you had seen him, you knew you wanted him to see you in it.

With a sigh of frustration, you dove face first into the pillows of your bed as you curled into his jacket.

It was your only comfort at the moment.

Your mind wanders and you can’t help but think of how better a boyfriend Choso would have been to you.

Dean would never let you wear his jackets, no matter how cold you were. He said you were too air-headed and would ruin or lose it.

Not that he wasn’t right, you definitely were accident prone.

But that's why it had meant so much to you when Choso, not even your boyfriend, had given you his own without a second thought.

You only hoped he didn’t hate you now.

Not that you could blame him if he did.

Even you hated you a bit for even being with a jerk like Dean in the first place no matter how convenient you thought it had been for you.

How could you even face Choso in class next week?

Despite your heart crumpling when you thought of Choso’s cold intimidating gaze being cast upon you again, you admittedly had never seen a look that intense before from anyone.

It was also impossible to forget the ravenous look in his eyes when he was so close to kissing you.

He looked as if he would devour you whole.

God, everything about him was so sexy.

His strong jaw set firm, his eyes dark pools that sucked you in even from memory, his lean muscular body.

You wish you had realized how bad you had been crushing on him sooner. Before everything got so fucked up.

You fidgeted as an ache developed between your legs.

Turning your head to the side you used your bandaged hand to gently push his jacket collar into your face.

It still smelled like him despite how many times you’ve worn it this week and despite the faint smell of old coffee from earlier.

Squirming on your bed, you tried in vain to keep your legs from sliding against each other creating more friction as your body became increasingly hotter.

A shameless whine escaped your lips as you huffed his woody masculine scent in and out.

Your legs rubbed together more eagerly.

Shit, you were so horny.

Still laid flat on your belly you lifted your hips up for access as a manicured finger pressed into your clit toying with yourself from the outside of your pink cotton thong.

Choso was so meticulous, so knowledgeable in everything he did you were sure he knew how to make you cum.

You were desperate for him as you remembered what it felt like when he caught you from falling last week.

How good would his sculpted chest feel pressed into you now?

Would he look at you with the same want that flared across his features when he had gotten a glimpse of your panties you had intentionally put on display for him?

You didn’t miss how it matched the look he gave you when he nearly kissed.

“Choso…”

You moaned out loud.

You could feel the wet spot your teasing was earning you spread over your thong as your cunt continued to drool over your fantasies of him.

Craving more you lifted your ass up higher while your fingers fumbled to slide under the flimsy fabric.

“A-ahhh s-shit Cho– F-fuck!”

You panted as you sunk two fingers into your cunt. You worked to diligently pump them in and out of you as you pressing your palm down firmly over your swollen clit.

Your face buried itself deeper in his jacket as you gasped and your warm breath pushed back against you as you imagined it was his own tickling your neck.

All your senses screamed with want to be consumed by him and you pined for the feeling of his cock stretching your wet cunt instead of your slim fingers that weren’t cut out for the job.

“F-fuck C-Choso.. Mmm, let me cum.”

You practically sobbed when you glided a third finger into your pussy, two wasn’t enough to quell the craze that had overtaken you.

Ironically and unbeknownst to you, Choso (who had hidden himself in your closet during your shower), was mere moments away from losing his own goddamn mind.

Wholly entranced, he listened to you wantonly call for him like a sweet siren song and watched utterly fixated on the way you fiercely finger fucked your pussy like it was his own cock.

All the while in his jacket sniffing the sweaty soiled material like some filthy fucking pervert.

Fuck!

When he had followed you back to the sorority house he had finally resolved to kill you, but now he was at a standstill as there was no plausible way this was actually happening in front of him.

The obscene ASMR of your cunt sloshing rang in his ears and your legs quivered obscenely with you approaching your orgasm.

Your desperate thrusts caused his oversized jacket to ride up to your hips revealing the way your ass bare ass jiggled when you drove your hips down and pushed your digits up deeper into your core that waited greedily to suck them in.

You chanted out Choso’s name with urgency straining your voice as you climaxed. The bed creaked from you now humping the mattress while riding out your high.

Shit you were fucking sexy.

Thought you'd just been toying with him for fun all this time...

Until now.

Choso’s grip on his knife tightened as adrenaline surged through his body.

He could feel the blood pumping through his dick.

He wanted to fuck you.

Badly.

Give you what you’ve both been needing all this time.

Choso fully bricked, suppressed a hiss through clenched teeth as he palmed the bulge in his pants but remained otherwise still.

He can’t imagine a positive reaction if he burst out of your closet as Ghostface nor could he just take off his mask and pop out of your closet as your TA like he was some fucking creeper.

This was pure agony.

You never failed to find some way to unravel him.

Choso was so tense, his body coiled so tightly, he couldn't control his thigh involuntarily twitching and his knee recoiled against your closet door.

He cursed himself for the millionth time at the lack of control he had around you, he had never had to restrain himself so much around anyone else.

Ecstasy was etched on your features as you looked around puzzled from where the noise came from.

However, the even louder boom of the front door slamming shocked you out of your blissful daze and stole your attention away.

You sat up quickly and wondered if your sorority sisters were back already.

You glanced at the clock.

10:32 pm.

It was still much too early for them to leave.

But who else could it be?

You groaned and reluctantly hopped off the bed, zipping up Choso’s jacket fully to hide the slick between your legs and went out to greet them so you could avoid them coming into your room and return to your solitude as quickly as possible.

You were tired, frustrated and still horny as hell.

You only wanted make yourself cum hard enough you could fall asleep and end this miserable ass day.

☠

“Girls~! You really didn’t have to leave so early~!”

You call out to your sisters.

It was a little late for a show of solidarity if that's what they thought they were doing.

You rolled your eyes.

But it was eerily quiet as you received no response.

That’s odd.

Walking down the hall you froze once the view from the top floor opens into the foyer below and you see the front door wide open.

Not a single soul in sight or to be heard.

“Girls?”

Fight or flight senses kick into gear altering you to the possible dangers below.

You might be a bit of a ditz but you studied enough forensics and had seen enough scary movies to know how this shit usually ended.

You turn back to run to your room to call someone but stopped as you noticed your phone on the entryway table by the door.

Crap.

Steeling yourself you slowly inched your way towards the staircase, stopping at times to lean over the banister for any signs of someone.

“This isn’t funny girls! You know I’ve already had a really shitty night!”

But only the hollow sound of wind whipping through the door answered you as it swayed on its hinges.

This was an older house.

Maybe you didn’t close the door all the way in the beginning?

No one in your sorority house ever locked the doors, which now you considered probably wasn’t the greatest tradition to keep up while you were at home all alone and a serial killer was on the loose.

You crept down the stairs trying to silence any creaks as best you could.

“I swear on a stack of Vogues if this is a prank you all of you whores will all be on campus clean-up community service duty for the rest of the semester!”

Still nothing but silence as you reached the bottom of the staircase.

The lights were on in the entire house. From what you could tell the den and living room areas surrounding the foyer were empty.

You sighed. Maybe it was just the wind.

You close the door and this time make sure to lock it as you clutch your phone and turn to scamper back upstairs when you feel something grab at you from behind.

“Want to die Y/N?”

You let out a screech as you whip your around to see a figure you recognize as Ghostface reach for you as you stumble backwards into the den.

Tripping over your own feet, you fall back landing on your injured hand and knocking your head against the edge of a coffee table.

A roar of laughter erupts as you groan dazed from the floor.

“You really are a clumsy ditz, babe.”

Puzzled and near concussed, you blink through blurry vision to see Dean pull off the Ghostface mask as he crouches down to your level and leans on his metal bat tauntingly.

Pain blossoms sharply in the back of your head and you can feel the puncture wound on your hand open and saturate your bandage.

“The fuck are you doing here Dean?”

You glared up at him through your one good hand that covered your face as you struggle to get your bearings back.

You couldn’t catch a fucking break tonight.

“Still being a huge bitch even though I came all the way over here to say sorry, eh?”

Dean hummed, brow raised as he chuckled.

“I thought a little fright would put you in a good mood, Y/N.”

“Nice way of apologizing Dean. Insult me, scare me half to death and give me a concussion.”

You knew this man was not sorry at all.

Someone sober enough had probably informed Dean that you did have the power to essentially kill their fraternity’s social life, cucking his entire house for the foreseeable future. They likely sent him to make things right with you ASAP.

But even with all that on the line your tool of an ex was such a huge dick he couldn’t even do the bare minimum to give you a decent apology like an actual human being (not that you would have accepted it).

“I see I was right about one thing though.”

Dean got your attention as he pointed down at the moisture running down your legs.

You immediately pull Choso’s jacket down further to cover yourself.

You couldn’t give a fuck what he thought at this point. You’d confess to fucking the entire Forensics department if got him out of your face.

“Sure Dean, think what you want okay? Just fucking GET. OUT.”

You felt dizzy from the pressure thrumming in the back of your skull.

“Yeah and if I say no whore? Then what?”

Dean slid a clammy hand over your knee which sent another wave of nausea through you, your head spinning.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to stop his hand traveling lower before you suddenly noticed Dean’s body being ripped away from you entirely.

The scene that followed occurred in a whirlwind as your head felt like it would explode trying to focus on anything.

Your eyes strain to keep up with the action only registering fractions of it through your blurred vision.

You see…blood?

Is it yours?

No. It’s flowing from Dean’s shoulder.

Another person?

…Ghostface?

Yes.

Your double vision struggled to pinpoint exactly what was happening as Dean and the masked Ghostface fought for dominance, somehow ending up back in the foyer.

Dean was barely able to keep the large hunting knife from sinking into his chest.

Was this even real?

Were you really about to witness a Ghostface crime scene in action?

Were you next?

You felt like you were witnessing it all play out through someone else’s body as your mind floated off and you felt more disconnected.

Your awareness faded in and out.

There was no doubt, you definitely had a small concussion.

“Y/N!”

Your head snaps up as you finally hear Dean shouting your name although it sounded like you were in a fishbowl.

He had somehow gotten leverage and evened the odds with the killer as they both now had a hold of the blade’s handle.

“Y/N! Pay attention you ditzy ass bimbo! Don’t just sit there looking stupid, get the fucking bat.”

You scanned the floor around you.

Sure enough, there was the scuffed metal bat shining back at you resting by your knees.

Your injured hand grazes it and you see a red trail of blood smearing across it as the cool smooth metal soothes your ruptured skin.

“Y/N, what the fuck are you daydreaming about?! Get your ass over here!”

You grip the bat’s handle, ignoring the pain to use it and the coffee table as leverage to push you up off the floor.

You sway on your feet as your blood pressure drastically drops from standing too quickly.

Your head feels light.

Your body feels light.

Surprisingly too, even the large heavy metal bat now feels light in your injured palm.

“Fucking finally, Y/N!”

Dean yelled as he saw you on your feet.

“It’s not like I’m trying to fight off a killer here or anything dumb bitch.”

Dumb bitch?

Oh yeah, he means you.

God, Dean was fucking annoying you just wished he would shut up sometimes.

You couldn’t even think straight.

What were you doing again?

Right, the bat. He told you to bring it to him.

You wanted to sit down again. You were so tired.

You couldn't rest though as Dean’s voice was ringing in your ears.

You just wanted him to shut up more than anything so you willed yourself forward.

“Give Dean the bat, Give Dean the bat.”

You lowly repeated in a mantra like state.

Your vision was spotted with black dots swirling like the pain in your head.

GiveDeanthebatGiveDeanthebatGiveDeanthebat

You gripped the handle in both hands.

You were going to give Dean the bat.

“Y/N! Goddamn bitch move your lazy fuckin–”

C-R-A-C-K!

The slick sound ricochets throughout the entryway and reverberates in your ears.

C-R-A-C-K!

You feel warm droplets of moisture spray on you.

C-R-A-C-K!

The bat and Dean’s motionless body both simultaneously hit the floor with a thud.

You closed your eyes.

You felt… relief?

Like you could breathe again as the hazy veil that had shrouded your thoughts lifted and the throbbing in your head slowly receded.

You weren’t sure how to describe what you were feeling but it was some mix between euphoria, exhilaration and… freedom?

Well, you were finally free of Dean for good now.

You couldn’t help but be amused by that thought as you wiggle your toes in the warm red liquid that pooled around them.

A child-like giggle resounds from you.

Was this post nut kill clarity?

Catching a glimpse of yourself in the hallway mirror you noticed blood and chunks of brain matter strewn all over Choso’s jacket.

You wouldn’t be able to go without washing it now.

You frowned at the thought of his scent being washed away as well as you unzipped it, checking to see if the stains seeped through the lining too.

You had made such a mess.

Quick movements out of the corner of your eyes reminded you of the fact you were not alone.

The actual Ghostface killer stood mere feet away from you, his intentions clear as he visibly heaved and extended his knife out to the side approaching you.

You sighed exhausted.

“I’m not going to be able to blame this one on you, am I?”

Ghostface shook his head, confirming what you already knew.

☠

Choso felt his own adrenaline reach a frenzied peak.

He approached you with the animalistic stature of a predator who was sizing up another.

You were a killer now, no longer simply his prey.

Proving as much as eyes showed no remorse for the life you had taken.

Yet given what he had walked in on just minutes ago and how distraught you were leaving the party, there was nothing for to mourn anyway.

The only emotion your shown was concern for the on coming threat of him as you backed up to keep from his advances.

Heh, that could just as easily be him right now bleeding out on the floor.

He mused as he side stepped Dean’s body to stalk closer towards you.

Choso smirked, he was only disappointed he wasn’t the one to kill him.

Although he couldn’t deny how beautiful you looked creating your own work of art.

A bit abstract and not as precise as his own methods.

Nevertheless, Choso continues to be amazed by how his cute and clumsy little undergrad just showed him a darkness he had only previously recognized in himself.

Choso watches you back away until your ankles hit the bottom of the staircase.

Your feet and hands were slick with blood and you couldn’t find your footing on the steps nor support yourself on the railing so you were forced to scooch up the stairs.

Yet given your injury even that proved difficult for you.

What would he do with you now?

“W-We’re even right? You saved me, I saved you.”

You tried to bargain as you saw him crawl up the staircase after you.

Ghostface cocked his head to the side considering your words as he reached you and stopped your escape with a strong gloved hand digging into the flesh of your hip.

Ghostface suspended himself over you covering your frame entirely and his metallic blade glared in the light as if it would pierce into you at the slightest whim.

Were you going to die like this?

Despite the danger you couldn’t help but be a bit turned on.

Especially as Ghostface’s touch reminded you so much of–

“Did you get off on killing your boyfriend Y/N?”

Ghosface taunted, speaking for the first time.

“...or were you already this fucking wet from fantasizing about someone else, hm?”

Your eyes widened.

Your mind raced too fast to reach a succinct conclusion. But you were disappointed to hear a voice box distortion instead of the actual person's voice beneath the mask.

Your flurry of jumbled thoughts are paused when you feel the cool caresses of the flat metal side of his blade drag across the skin of your stomach leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Your chest heaved slowly with steady intensity as your breath shuddered.

“Are you turned on now Y/N?”

You look away from Ghostface as he taunts as you. You feel more self-conscious considering who you think is under the mask.

Just how fucked up was it you were turned on from murdering your boyfriend in cold blood to save a serial killer who might have been the guy you had just been masturbating to who was also the serial killer Ghostface and very likely about to kill you now?

Very.

Very fucked up was the answer.

You would have been ashamed if you could bring yourself to care.

Choso’s jerks your face back to him as the hand with the blade parts your legs.

The lust in your eyes and your drenched cunt were all the answers he needed.

“AHH!”

You cry out as you feel the smooth metal come down to slap your clothed pussy hard and slide against your lips.

You fight the urge to close your legs. You can’t or the sharpened edges of the knife would stab your thighs.

You bite your bottom lip to the point of drawing blood.

This does not go unnoticed by Choso as he brings his gloved hand to your lips to soothe the bite.

His soft leather covered thumb hooks past your lips to guide your mouth open, exploring your mouth as you openly moan.

“Tsk, Tsk, we can't have you breaking skin and wasting more of that pretty blood that belongs to me.”

You shiver at his words dripping in possessiveness and your mouth encloses around his thumb, sucking as your tongue still squirms under its pressure.

A strained hiss comes from Choso and his eyes roam down to admire the slime trail of sticky fluid your clothed cunt dripped his blade.

Before Choso can get a peak at your pussy your hands fly down to cover yourself.

Amused, Choso gently removes his hand from your mouth to palm your inner thigh as his thumb slick from your spit rubs circles into your flesh.

His coaxing has you spreading your legs wider as he brushes up against the hands covering your cunt.

“Show me Y/N.”

He breathed out.

You pouted and shook your head.

“Is my little slut a liar then? I recall you telling me you didn’t mind if I saw your panties.”

Your suspicions confirmed you gasped in realization but Choso could no longer control himself as his hunting knife returned to your body to trail up your stomach this time the pointy edge hovering over your soft skin.

Your stomach sucks in to create distance between the blade and your skin causing your chest to push up through your arms but it's exactly what Choso had wanted.

Whoosh

With a swift slash through the air his blade slices your bra in two and its straps fall back down your shoulders laying bare your breast and hardened nipples to the cool air.

Exposed, your hands instinctively move from you core to cover your tits.

You see Choso pull back from you to sit up fully.

No longer touching you as he opted to imprint into his memory the imagery of your wet puffed pussy glistening through the soaked and now nearly transparent thong which clung to your lower lips like second skin.

He shifted his mask as the voice box moved from over this mouth.

“Y/N” he sighed.

Hearing his actual voice had you whining with need again.

Choso couldn’t keep his hands off you for long as he grasped hold of your thong and slipped his fingers between the fabric covering your cunt.

Choso rubbed the sticky moisture on the thin fabric between his thumb and forefingers while his knuckles bullied into your clit, causing your toes to curl.

“Mmm C-Choso.”

Your hands went from simply covering your tits to messaging them, pulling on your nipples, as you couldn’t hold back the sounds from the pleasure you felt from him touching you.

Shit. He wanted to ruin you.

Choso’s knife returns to your throat applying soft pressure dangerously close to breaking skin.

“So tell me what you want then, Y/N?”

Choso knew you wanted him but he wanted you to say it.

He needed you to admit it to him outright before he could really believe it.

His knuckles had stopped teasing your clit and your body trembled as you bucked your hips into his hand and pouted.

“I want you to hurry up and decide if you’re going to fuck me or kill me before my sorority sisters get back Choso!”

Choso smirked under the mask.

Becoming a killer turned you into a bit of a brat.

But he knew how to handle you.

Heh, fair enough.

Driving the knife into the staircase behind your head he pulls you up, swapping positions and seating you on his thigh.

He pulls his soiled track jacket off of you and you shiver as the cold air hits your back.

“Mm, Fuck me Choso”

You sighed longingly, arms encircling his neck.

“Mm, Should I though?”

Choso questions out loud as you melt deeper into him from his hands roaming your body.

One settles on your hip under the band of your thong and the other peels you back by your hair so Choso can see your eyes blown out fully with lust.

“Or should I make you wait like I’ve been waiting ever since you first stumbled into class in that slutty green skirt?”

You cried out and our tongue lolled out of your mouth when he yanked your panties roughly by the front, pulling the material between your pussy lips.

Your clit was cradled in the steamy fabric and you clutched the front of his robes for stability as your eyes rolled back.

“Do you know how much you made me suffer thinking about that pretty pussy of yours? How many times I fisted my cock? How much blood I spilled to forget the way you looked in those slutty outfits?”

Choso's own desire was apparent in his raspy voice.

You shake your head and tears spill as he pulls the fabric tighter over your clit.

“I-I w-wanted you too” you sniffled out.

“Then prove it.” Choso breathed out huskily.

“I want that needy cunt of yours to beg me by fucking herself real nice on my thigh like she did on your mattress earlier.”

You could have combusted as he admitted he had in fact been watching you from your closet but you couldn’t help but obey his orders.

The frantic way your heart pounded in your chest couldn’t trump the unbearable arousal between your legs.

You braced yourself on his shoulders as you began to rock your hips on him.

“That’s it baby.”

Choso encouraged you as you heard a loud rip and realized he had cut away your thong when you felt him snatch the material right off of you.

Your plump pussy lips parted when pressed onto his thigh and you felt the rough material of his heavy robes directly chafing against your clit.

Surrendering to pleasure you circled your hips to grind down on him as Choso started bouncing you on his leg.

The impact of your weight forcing your clit down while his thigh pushed up into you shaking.

“S-shiiiit D-daddy!”

You cried out arching back.

Choso could have busted in his pants completely untouched when he heard you call him daddy.

You didn’t know how much you had him wrapped around your perfectly manicured fingers.

He would kill every single one of those bastard frat fucks on campus on a whim if you asked him to.

He would do anything for you.

Choso's muscular thigh flexing underneath your cunt felt amazing but your hole was screaming to be filled as it gaped around the phantom thought of his cock penetrating you.

“N-Need more. S’not enough Daddy”

You beg, whining into the mouth opening of his mask.

Your breath enters through the material as your hot tongue presses against the cloth barrier hungrily.

His own tongue responds in kind, entangling with yours through his mask and you moan deeper into the opening.

You feel so good yet are still frustrated that you were naked while you couldn’t even see a sliver of skin from him still in his full Ghostface attire.

You move to lift up his mask when he stops you, breaking the makeshift kiss.

“Now, now Y/N.”

Choso playfully chides.

“Can you think of nothing but my dick? You’ve forgotten so quickly this is still a crime scene?”

You panted as you looked over your shoulder and spot the gruesome remains of Dean’s lifeless body and half bashed in face. Blood stained the foyer rug and pieces of tissue splattered on curtains, walls and even the fake plants.

Right.

You still had no idea what you were going to do about that situation but Dean was already dead. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Honestly you felt as if you might die as well if you couldn’t get Choso’s dick inside of you soon.

Your hips never stopped grinding down on his thigh as you returned your attention to him.

You knew if Choso couldn’t even kiss you, he couldn’t fuck you either as those same rules applied to both potential sources of DNA.

“S’fine.” You pout.

“I-I had your jacket, y-your DNA could c-come from that.”

Your injured hand came to cup the slide of his masked face and your other rubbed the outline of cock over his jeans, feeling the precum soil through them despite the thickness of the fabric.

Blood from your hand smeared onto the pristine white Ghostface mask as you pulled your foreheads to touch.

“I’ll admit Dean was right, w-we w-were sleeping together...”

Choso chuckled.

“..and get me expelled for sleeping with a student on top of a motive to connect me to your victim?”

He gave your ass harsh smack.

Your cheeks clenched and your panting grew more ragged as you chased your high against him.

“Y/N you gotta think with that sexy little head of yours not that needy little cunt if you really want me to fuck you. I know you’re smart. This should be easy for you.”

You groaned.

Thinking was virtually impossible right now.

You wanted to give up and resort to begging again but Choso calling you smart (something your recently deceased ex never did) and now rubbing your thighs encouragingly, had made you so happy you wanted to make him more proud of you.

You reluctantly stopped your hips, ignoring the fiery ache shooting through in your cunt but you wanted to cum from his cock not his thigh.

You closed your eyes and exhaled a shaky breath.

Focus Y/N, you willed yourself.

Focusing became harder to do though when Choso became impatient and had nuzzled his masked face into your chest.

His mouth latched to your nipple through the black cloth, swirling his tongue and grazing his teeth against your bud causing it to swell.

“Oh!” you smiled sweetly down at him and his abs tightened as he held you closer to him.

“We get rid of the body! Clean up and make sure there's no crime scene to be found!”

“That’s correct,” Choso praised you as if you answered a question in class correctly.

“Now, most importantly, how exactly will we get rid of the body, Y/N?”

“We…w-we..”

Your fingertips grazed your lips and you bit a nail as you pensively considered your options.

You looked like you were thinking so hard on this.

So fucking cute.

“Come on baby, tell me.”

Choso was the one begging you now while he lifted your hips just enough to pull up his robes and position you to straddle his dick straining against his jeans.

You were so close to the answer. He knew it would come to you and he wanted to be inside of you as soon as you got it.

You clasped your hands together and gave him one of your pageant winning smiles he grew to love.

“We make a kill room!”

“Smart girl” Choso said as he lifted his mask and his lips came crashing down on yours.

☠

“Shit-Shit-Shit!”

You cried as you lower yourself onto Choso’s cock.

You had begged and pleaded him for this but Choso was so much bigger and longer than you expected.

You never had a problem taking dick before but not only was Choso huge he had 3 rows of top and frenum ladder ball piercings on his long veiny cock that dragged against your gspot when you tried to force him inside you.

You still had about an inch to go and his fat cockhead was already pressing against your cervix.

“Fuck baby you really been keeping all this good pussy from me?”

Choso spread your cheeks to assist you down on his enlarged length but your walls vice gripped his cock preventing him from guiding you down further.

Choso grunted, he was going to cum fast if you didn’t ease up.

Pulling you back, he captured your lips again devouring them as he violently pushed his tongue into your mouth in a sloppy kiss, dominating you completely.

A tremor shot through your cunt as your hips jerked and your legs quivered.

“My slutty girl is so sensitive she came from just kissing?”

Choso teased knowingly pulling back to allow you air and lapping at the drool from the corners of your mouth.

It wasn’t just a kiss.

Without the hindrance of a mask Choso’s kisses felt like he was eating you alive and set your body ablaze.

Your orgasm came with enough intensity to loosen your walls allowing you to finally sink down to the base. However your legs were still vibrating and unable to support you riding him.

You fell forward into the crook of his neck.

“C-can’t D-daddy” you babbled into his neck drooling.

Choso wanted to tease you more. He wanted to goad and praise you enough so you would ride him in earnest until your perfect pretty face sobbed for him to fuck you but time was of the essence now.

You both probably had a good hour and a half left before the cops broke up the party and members of your sorority started heading back.

He needed to finish you quickly and he silently promised to take his time with you later.

Rising up, Choso positioned his arms under your thighs to keep you seated on his cock as he walked up the few steps to reach the landing in the middle of the staircase.

Placing your back carefully against the wall he glides his hands over your sweat and blood laden skin to lift your legs onto his shoulders. His grip settles onto the fat of your ass and he marvels at how his fingers sink into them.

Choso allows you time to get adjusted to the new position as he now held you in a standing mating press.

“Ready?”

You nod and Choso takes that as his greenlight to rigorously fuck you into the wall with such vigor you felt it quaking behind you.

There was no possible way you could have ever been ready for that though and your hands dive into his hair tugging at the roots under his man buns as if you intended to scalp him.

Your reactions fuel his cruel thrusts as Choso greedily drinks your guttural screams into his mouth.

They sound more heavenly than any he had heard before even from his own victims.

Slamming you down on his cock, Choso manhandled you like you weighed nothing to him.

His piercings and engorged veins continue to scrape the walls of your core with every stroke as you gush around him soaking his robes.

Choso wanted more of you.

He didn’t think he would ever get enough.

You felt so fucking good he could fuck you like this for hours and he cursed the dwindling time he had before he needed to remove himself from the warm comfort of your mushy cunt.

The hallway echoed with sounds of his hips sadistically ramming your body further into the wall as well as the sloshy vulgar noises his cock tore from your tight creamy cunt.

“S-so c-lose Cho–”

Were the only words you could croak out as your cries become lodged in your throat.

The pleasure you received being folded between Choso and the wall had you salivating like crazy. Drool was pooling in your mouth faster than it could dribble out down the sides.

You locked eyes with him.

The wild glint in them was so primordially feral you can’t believe you ever mistook the restraint he tried to maintain around you for shyness.

Frankly, there was nothing timid about him.

The cold confidence of a true killer radiated off of him and into your core as each of his thrusts felt like they were stabbing into your womb.

Your whines turned into horse croaks as you desperately gasped for air.

Like a killer he showed you no mercy as his long cock shifted your guts up and into your lungs.

Choso was quite literally murdering your cunt.

“Yeah Y/N? Is my girl gonna cum all pretty like on this dick?”

Too cockdrunk to reply, your pussy readily spoke up for you as your walls clenched and spasmed. White stars flood your vision as your body vibrates against him as you cum hard, gurgling his name.

Choso’s hips stuttered and his moans increased as he fucked you through your orgasm and chased his own.

He knew better than to cum inside you, he wasn’t wearing a condom and didn’t even know if you were on birth control.

But your cunt was like a drug to him so Choso resigned himself to cleaning you up after as he gave one last thrust, injecting you with his hot seed that scorched your insides and sent you spasming all over again.

It took a few minutes for Choso to catch his breath but he gently released your legs down to touch the floor as he pulled out of you.

You groaned immediately at the loss after being so full as you still tried to regain your own steady breaths.

Not missing a beat, Choso moved with reverence as if he was worshiping your form from the kisses he peppered down your chest and belly.

“Eyes on me baby,”

Choso ordered, glancing up at you.

You nodded your breath hitching once he reached below your belly button and he threw one of your legs over his shoulder again.

He shamelessly breathed in the scent of sex wafting off your pussy.

The musky mixture of his cum and your juices combined with sweat and blood entered his nostrils and sent his eyes rolling back into his skull.

You shuddered.

You wanted to feel his mouth on you more than anything but you knew you couldn’t both remain like this in the open hallway for much longer.

Seemingly forgetting all concerns of time, Choso’s thumbs lightly ghost over your battered pussy lips as he slowly peeled back the slippery folds.

His chest swoll with pride seeing how much of his cum you had taken inside of you.

Choso's tongue salaciously darted out to catch the drippings that seeped out of your messy little cunt.

Despite your concerns, you can’t resist bucking up towards his face as he brought your hips off the wall towards him.

“Be patient princess, let me enjoy this.”

Choso open handedly spanks your pussy, landing a direct hit on your clit which has you shaking as your squirt spritz onto his face.

His thick tongue rolls out of his mouth like a man starved licking his lips at the feast before him

“Goddamn, I already love her so much”

He cooed into your cunt while looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.

“Go out with me, yeah Y/N? I’ll treat her right. Just let me have a taste of her everyday.”

You almost came on his face again from the utter display of depravity he was showing you, not missing the fact he was so pussy drunk he was technically asking your cunt to be his girlfriend instead of you.

To be fair you were both way past the point where he needed to ask you out anyway as he was an accomplice to your homicide and soon-to-be cover up.

“Okay Choso, I’ll be your girlfriend,”

You grinned at him.

Choso thanked you by gently placing a kiss on your clit before nose-diving into your folds like a mad man between your legs.

Seeing how sensitive you are it wasn't long before he had you thrashing on his lips from the nasty way he heartily ate your cunt out.

The suckling, bubbling and squeaking sounds of him inhaling your pussy nearly had you at your peak again.

Yet you were snapped out of your pleasure when you heard the grandfather clock in the hall ring signaling it was midnight.

Fuck what if the party got broken up earlier than expected?

“W-we don’t have time for this Choso.” You plead anxiously as you pry his head out of from between your legs.

The sounds of the clock chiming and the sight of Dean’s body still laying in the entryway made you more nervous with every passing minute it remained there.

His eyes narrowed dangerously on you as he nuzzled his nose back into your cunt hooking it under your clitoral hood.

“Oh? My sweet girl gets one kill and thinks she knows better than me what we have time for?”

His expression dares you to pull him away again as he drags the flat of his tongue lazily over your clit.

“Please Choso…”

Choso relents as he feels you tense up more, he wouldn't be able to enjoy himself unless you were.

“You trust me right Y/N?”

“Yes”

You breathe out as his fingers play with your puffed pussy lips.

“Do you have the key to the basement?”

You nod.

“And you know exactly where the supply closet is, baby?”

You nod again.

“Perfect. This won't take long at all then.”

Choso assures you as his confident words calm your worries.

“So now just relax princess and let me take care of you. This isn’t my first clean up job babe…”

You weren’t sure if Choso was talking about your cunt or the dead body, but you didn’t doubt he was experienced in both.

“Give me 15 minutes to see how many times I can make you squirt on my tongue. Then we can finally make that dexter kill room you like so much, yeah?”

You nodded once more and Choso wasted no time drowning his face back into your cunt.

You sighed contently.

He was already the best boyfriend you ever had.

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ��ʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ

A/N: How was that? Did I do our emo kang justice? Lmk! (y'all better lmk cause y'all busted my balls for days over this lmfaoooo)

Also ding dong Dean is DEAD thank fuck. Whew I made that man as horrible as possible so you could kill him. Tbh, I would kill a nigga just for pouring Milwakees in my hair alone, that shit smells and tastes like cat piss lol.

Also here if y'all wanna see a cute lil pixivi I made of me bimbo!reader x Ghostface!Choso.

You know the original idea for this was actually based on a fic I was writing where Choso, Yuji and Sukuna (all brothers) all transfer to your university and bimbo!reader (no bf this time) clearly likes Choso but his oblivious emo ass has no idea and keeps being a dick to you cause he thinks you are just making fun of him. LOL! I may in the future still end up writing a version for that since this ended up going in a completely different direction with Ghostface thrown into the mix.

Y'all this fic was way too fuckin long. I know theres likely errors/redundancies still so I will comb through it later and I may edit/reword somethings too but general content will stay the same. Tbh, what took so long is the last scene cause I decided I cannot write a smut fic with Choso where that man isn't acting completely deranged and unhinged over the taste of pussy. He's munch, he can't help it.

Reblog for Ghostface!Choso to be your personal munch, but likes and comments are appreciated all the same!

Next up on Kizzatober, Werewolf!Toji from Thrilling Ghouls! (PWP)

ღTaglistღ: @callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @akaza-simp01 @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @samicamy-13 @strvqtt @wisteriaflowersss @spookyy-gracee @jujutsualy @anakalana @crying-person @missphanosaur18 @jazzmynerule @megatqistina @trobed1312 @mimiemie @insomninaz @bloodysweetcat @cyyberm00n @nikkitc0703 @briefrebelfanalmond (so sorry if I missed anyone but I'm delirious rn forgive me ily)

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doctorcurdlejr · 13 days

Text

This is from a longer post I wrote about I saw the tv glow but just posting this bit on its own bc of the conversation around the movie I guess:

The point is that this movie is one big glaring trans allegory about how it sucks dog shit to live in the suburbs, and even at our most repressed we find these little snow globes of actualization in the glow of a tv screen that isn't afraid to show you the world you see. I've seen some people say that, like, in this context accepting or coming into your transness is this monumental death of self, which I get, but I feel there lacks a nuance in that because either way Owen is dying. Unlike Maddy who buries herself alive only to come out renewed, Owen doesn't kill himself upon facing the reality that the world is constructed to keep him miserable and the only way out is to take back what it is that the world wants to keep scooped out of him. Instead he just passively lets it drag him to a much more permanent death. This lack of suicide sucks in the kind of way that forces you to sit in your car on the midnight drive home and think to yourself am I letting myself suffocate because at some point knowing the misery became less scary than admitting I've been capable of doing something about it the whole time?

Maddy is an out lesbian who left town to escape the misery and found it strapped to her ankles. She slinks out, an animal pressed against the gymnasium floor, and says "I'm not telling you anything you don't already know." Owen looks into the camera and narrates. He cuts himself open with a box cutter, fully acknowledges what's there, and the movie ends with his suffocating apology parade for the unremarkable inconvenience of his excruciating suffering. You can be gay and trans, you can know it and you can stop repressing it, but you're not going to stop suffocating until you can find a way to destroy the part of you that truly deeply does want to die, reaching for the comforting euthanasia of normalcy. Stop visiting the dream of the life you want and make it into your reality with the same kind of unrepentant conviction seen in some underfunded but wildly ambitious teen television series. In other words: you must try to survive the ego death of being weird. A weirdo, who doesn't fit in and doesn't want to fit in.

#i saw the tv glow #i saw the tv glow spoilers #a day in the life

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certainlynotasimp · 1 year

Note

can i req miguel and sunshine where she has a BUNCH of hickeys but shes too nice to make fun of so the spiders tease miguel instead?

Just A Taste

(Miguel O' Hara x Female! Reader)

A/N: Omg this is so funny and cute!!! I was kinda struggling writing this because I was like, 'How much is too much for hickeys?'. It's currently hot as hell where I live and so you can tell where that inspo comes from this can be read as a part 2 or a sister fic to Just A Bite. I almost made it an unofficial part 2.25 to Our Girl, but I changed my mind. Also, I'm sorry it's a little short, but I hope you like it.

A/N: I also really wanna try that sorbet thingy where they come in the fruit shells if you know what I'm talking about. If you love this then please check out the master list and if you wanna be kept informed about updates on the Miggy and Sunny series, then comment on this taglist and you'll be added.

WARNINGS: Grumpy x Sunshine, Female reader/ Female pronouns, Barely any use of Y/N ((Sunny is her nickname, not her actual name)), OOC Characters, Flirty Miguel, Some implications of NSFW content, and Google Translated Spanish.

~~~~~~~~

It was very rare that it would get so hot that Miguel would be laid back with the rules. He held everyone to a certain standard when it came to being a part of his elite task force and he was a stickler for them to act like it. Despite this, he only expected three rules to remain to be followed at all times.

All Spidermen can’t travel to other worlds without notice.

Spidermen can’t travel without a mask on to protect the identity of all Spidermen.

Everyone has to wear their spider suits at all times.

Unfortunately, certain circumstances don't really allow certain rules to be followed reasonably. Especially when it involves people with special circumstances.

Such as this.

“Miggy!” A soft whine emits from the chair beside him as the woman sat upside down. Her unmasked face felt hot as a light sheen of sweat made her beautiful face glow against the soft light of the monitor. “It’s so hot…I thought you said Lyla would fix the air hours ago.”

Miguel rolls his eyes at the sight of her feet lightly hanging over the top of the chair as. “Mi amor, if you stay like that, you’re gonna have a lot more to worry about than a heat stroke.” He playfully pinches her ankle as he grabs a tablet from the table, fanning his own burning skin.

Due to a massive heat wave, Earth-928 was experiencing the hottest summer it has ever had in history, causing Lyla’s A/C system to malfunction. The Lobby was left a broiling mess with Spidermen refusing to come by until the AI’s systems are rebooted. Only a handful of spiders were on base with the residential sweetheart suffering the most since she lives there.

“Can I please take this off?” She moans as she swings up and shoots him those dreaded puppy dog eyes.

“Oh?” Miguel quirks an eyebrow as his eyelids lower. A playful smile graces his handsome face as he chastises. “I didn’t expect you to be so risky, mi sol.”

A flurry of butterflies spread out in her gut as she glares at Miguel. His response is to chuckle as that pretty glossed lip pokes out as she scolds him, “Not like that, Miguel, and you know it. This suit feels like a furnace and I just want to relax…”

The idea of his cute little lover prancing around in the nude would be an interesting idea to Spiderman, but he knew that his love would never agree to do that with others in the Head Quarters. Miguel bites his lip as he contemplates torturing his arañita some more, but he decides to show mercy as he relents.

“Alright, mi amor.” He sighs as he allows his own suit to dissipate, exposing the tight black tank top and tight athletic pants. “Pero tendrás que cumplir esa pequeña fantasía mía más tarde, mi niña bonita.”

His remark is ignored as she stands up from her cheer with a quiet “fuck yea”. After tinkering with her gizmo, the black and white suit disappears revealing her white tank top and black running shorts, but Miguel couldn’t help but smirk at the blotches of bruises that marred her skin.

Just before he could comment on it, the door opens as a voice complains, “YO BIG MAN! You need to tell that computer to fix this air!”

Another voice accompanies the new yorker's as the tall Brit yells out. “It’s sweltering here, man!”

Ben and Hobie came to a halt as they see their friend smile at them. “Hey, guys!” Sunny calls and waves at them while their faces grow ten degrees hotter.

The poor woman’s entire body was covered in hickeys. Her shoulders and collarbone were littered with several little puncture wounds while her neck had multiple light scratches dragging down. A distinct handprint was present at the base of her neck like a necklace with matching bracelets on her wrists. Her exposed thighs bared no better as the inner sides of her thighs had similar bite marks with a matching set of claw marks on the outside of her thighs.

Ben swats a hand over his mouth as his hand slams over his horrified mouth while Hobie looks at Miguel in an amused expression. The urge to throw himself into another dimension plagues Miguel’s thoughts as he realizes that he will never live this moment down for the rest of his life. Rubbing his hand over his face in frustration, the oblivious spider turns back to her lover as she tilts her head at why everyone was acting weird.

“Miggy, are you alright?” She mumbles as Hobie joins them up there with fake concern wrapping around his voice. “Yea, boss, are you alright? You looking a bit flushed, yea?” Hobie struggles to hide the growing laughter in his voice as Miguel throws him a nasty glare.

The punk was never afraid of getting under his leader’s skin, but his ego really took over when he knows his boss would definitely not do anything while his missus was right there watching him. Ben also decides to join the fun by remarking, “Yea, you look like you need something to blow off that steam. Maybe a little taste of something sweet, right?” He teases as he figures he was safe.

Unfortunately, he unknowingly sparked an idea in the naive spider’s mind. She claps her hands in excitement as she exclaims, “That’s a great idea, Ben! I think I have some sorbets in the freezer of Miguel’s apartment.”

Miguel wickedly smirks as he realizes that he may have an opportunity to exact some revenge as the two other boys tried to reason with her to stay.

“Oh wait, Sunny, You really don’t have to..”

“Yea, Love. We are fine really!”

The boys try to reassure her that she didn’t need to travel all that way to get some ice cream before a smooth voice says,

“Es una idea maravillosa, mi amor.” Miguel praises as his love’s smile brightens in response. “¿Por qué no vas a buscarme a mí ya ti ya que estos dos quieren ser miserables en este momento, de acuerdo?” He coos causing the woman to swoon at his soft tone.

“Alrighty, Miggy.” She grins as she opens the portal with her gizmo. The boys’ hearts stop in their chests as the little spider ignores their pleas to stay and happily skips through the portal to Miguel’s apartment.

“Now then…” Miguel’s menacing voice twists around his cruel smile as he looks at the trembling boys. “What is it that you guys wanted to talk about?”

Yep, they are fucked.

~~~~~~~

As the portal reopens on the observation deck, a smiling jumping spider comes back through with two packages in her hand and two spoons as she calls out, “Miggy, I’m back!”

“Llegando, mi sol.” His voice surprises her as he swings himself back onto the platform. She tilts her head as she begins to ask where he went when she noticed that he was now shirtless with the evidence of what she’s done to him now on full display.

His chest had small dark circles littering his pectorals that created a trail down his abdomen and his abs, disappearing into the dark brown happy trail that began below his belly button. Upon seeing her stunned face, Miguel chuckles as he gently takes one of the icy treats from her shaking hands and a spoon before sitting down in his chair.

“Gracias Amor.” He says nonchalantly as he rips open the packaging and starts eating the sorbet from its fruit shell.

“N-no problem, Miggy..” She sits beside him and opens her treat as she avoids looking at his powerful back muscles as they flex and move as he ate the sugary sweet. She almost drops the damned thing after the deep scratches on his shoulder blades reminded her of what they did just the night prior.

“¿Qué pasa, mami? Miguel mocks as a mischievous smirk causes his fangs to poke out. “¿No te gusta tu sorbete? ¿O hay algo más que te gustaría probar?” He purrs as the spoon in her hand falls to the floor with him chuckling.

“Miguel!” She scolds as she begins to bend over to pick up the spoon as another spoon full of an icy treat. Her stomach flips as Miguel looks at her with his pretty apologetic red eyes as he pokes her pouting lips with his peace offering.

“I’m sorry for teasing, my love. You just look so cute and flustered.” He admits he gives her a soft curl of his lip.

Matching his smile, Sunny opens her mouth and happily accepts his apology with a small moan. She sighs as she lets go of his spoon with a satisfied smile.

“So good!~”

“I’m glad.” He smiles as he dips his own bite and eats it. “Es casi tan dulce como tú…”

“Miggy!” An embarrassed voice shrills as the man laughs with his love.

~~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

arañita - Little spider

Pero tendrás que cumplir esa pequeña fantasía mía más tarde, mi niña bonita.--But, you are gonna have to fulfill that little fantasy of mine later, my pretty girl.

Es una idea maravillosa, mi amor.- That's a wonderful idea, my love.

¿Por qué no vas a buscarme a mí ya ti ya que estos dos quieren ser miserables en este momento, de acuerdo? -Why don't you go get me and you some since these two want to be miserable right now, alright?

Llegando, mi sol.- Coming, my sun.

Thank you,love- Gracias amor

¿Qué pasa, mami?- What's a matter, mami?

Es casi tan dulce como tú…–It's almost as sweet as you...

~~~~~~~~~~

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#miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman into the spiderverse #miguel ohara #fanfic #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara

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seospicybin · 7 months

Text

DON'T THEY KNOW IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD?

PART I

Lee know x reader. (s,a)

Chapters: Part II

Synopsis: Making a contact with an ancient object, you meet a demon who takes form of the man you desired and forces you to commit terrible acts to stop the world from ending. (14k words)

Author's note: I indulge myself with a spooky fic and demon Minho in it. Read with cautions and enjoy x

Based on an episode of Black Mirror. Content warnings: Violence, gore, mentions of abuse, assaults and graphic imagery. Reader's discretion is advised!

"Carving is easy. You just go down to the skin and stop." - Michelangelo

Oh, no! You're doing it again.

When you think you're talking in your head, you're actually talking loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. It's even worse that your voice is echoing in the big chamber of the empty gallery.

They seem to not care about it or pretend to because Kim has just walked in to check everyone's work. She's your friend from art school turns an art dealer and she has a way to control everyone around her.

"I told you to let us do it for you," she says, clicking her tongue at you and crossing her arms in front of her chest.

The gallery is having some of your pieces of art displayed for the exhibition tonight and you want to make sure that they're presented the way you envisioned it.

You carefully step down the ladder and stand next to Kim, looking at the sculpture you made of a man holding an arrow with an apple stuck at the end of the arrow.

You hear Kim dreamily sigh then look at you, "You're going to sell..." She pauses to emphasize the word she's going to say next, "Big!"

Money isn't the reason why you create these sculptures but you need it in order to keep being able to do this. You have no idea how expensive a block of stone is!

The reason why you made these sculptures is because this is what you love doing: envision your imagination onto a block of stone and you carve it to bring it to life.

Why did you choose stone as the medium? Because they're durable, stubborn yet resilient. It takes time to create one sculpture but once you've seen the result, you forget about the hard work behind it.

Kim puts her hand on your shoulder and snaps you out of your reverie, "Stop worrying about your sculptures," she says.

She turns you around to force you to face her and puts her other hand on your shoulder, "Go home. Get dressed. Put some color on those cheeks. Have a pre-party with a glass of wine or two."

Dressing up sounds like a lot of work, you'd rather stay in your dungarees and striped top, "Can I just wear these?"

It's like she has just heard someone dies, Kim's hand flies to her temple and screws her eyes shut for a second, "Trust me when I say that the people coming tonight wouldn't expect the artist behind these magnificent sculptures to look like Chucky," she says with a sneering smile.

She squeezes your shoulder and tilts her head to the side, "And that's me putting it the nicest way possible because you're my friend."

It's still a mystery how you ended up friends with someone like Kim, she's the opposite of what you are, an extrovert, a tolerable narcissist, she likes attention and is forthright to the point it's borderline insolent. You're so used to her audacious way of treating you and the blunt words that come out of her red-lipped mouth.

She's been like this even before you met her and you are the friend who likes to suffer in silence, you think that's why you became friends. Nevertheless, Kim treats you better than she treats anyone else for that matter.

That explains why the gallery staff are so afraid of her. It's always best to get out of her way unless she wants you to be there. You pick up your bag from the floor along with your jacket.

"I'll go then," you meekly say.

She grabs your elbow before leaving, "Go home," she says with a glare.

"Home. Not your studio," she says again, making it clear to you.

She knows you well enough to know that you like spending your days in your studio instead of your apartment. You sling the strap of your bag on one shoulder, "Go home. Get dressed. Come to the exhibition late," you repeat the things she wanted you to do.

Kim smiles and gently cups your cheek, "Good girl. Now go!"

Once you get home though, you spend hours just sitting in the emptiness that lingers in your apartment that is too big for one person to live in it.

This is why you prefer to stay in your studio, you like to keep your head occupied rather than being alone with your thoughts like this.

And your thoughts, they're mostly of unkind things and...

Your phone rings from inside your bag and steers your mind back to your head. Without having to look at it, you can tell who it is. There are no other people who call you daily except, well, if it's an emergency call.

"Are you getting ready yet?" Kim goes straight to the point.

"Uh... yeah, I just showered, I—" you jolt awake from lying down on the sofa.

"I'm having problems picking what to wear," you add a laugh in the hope of sounding convincing.

There's a wave of laughter from her end of the phone call before Kim talks to the phone, "Stop joking. Do you like it?"

You get completely confused because she suddenly compliments herself out of the blue, "Huh? What?"

You can hear her dramatic, low sigh and you can imagine her subtle eye roll as she's doing it, "The dress. The one I hung in your closet," she tells you.

You quietly trudge your way to the closet and open it to find the said dress.

"Yes, it's beautiful!" You hurriedly say, not wanting to let her get suspicious as she waits for a response.

"Aren't you lucky to have me as your friend?" she exclaims, sounding so confident with her words.

"I am the luckiest," you tell her as you observe the dress and already regretting hastily approving the dress as you notice it has a plunging neckline.

"I know," she brags and her smirk flashes through your head.

In the background, you hear something is calling her and Kim answers with a shout, "I'm coming."

She dramatically sighs before talking to you, "Work is calling. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, see you tonight!" You're more than relieved to end the phone call with her.

It's too early to celebrate as she hasn't ended the call yet and she always ends the call first. You have an inkling that she'll call your name.

Indeed, she is.

"Hey, don't forget to take your meds, okay?" She says.

That's probably the only yet the most endearing thing she does to you and what makes her your friend.

"Yeah, don't worry about it," you tell her.

It's time to fully assess the dress and you're in awe of how much skin you'll show if you're wearing this. Of course, you have the option not to wear but it all comes down to wearing the dress or facing Kim's wrath.

The former seems to be the safer choice and also because you're not a confrontational person, you like to avoid conflict.

Not wearing the dress means you're going straight into conflict and you don't want that.

With a defeated spirit, you put the dress on even though you have no idea how to move in such a tight dress. You summon up your below-average make-up skill for tonight and put some colors on you.

Not forgetting Kim's words, you take your medicine and wash it down with a long gulp of water. You give yourself a few minutes as you wait for the medicine to work while you sit on the couch holding a glass of water in both hands, staring out at the view from your apartment.

Kim insisted you take this apartment when you're okay with living in the studio. Not only that it's too expensive of a place to live on your own but a big place only makes you inexplicably lonely.

However, after seeing the view from up here, you feel like you're not part of this world in the most humbling way. Seeing the city and the buildings look like pieces of block makes you realize that they don't matter that much. They're all just... material things.

You sigh as you get hit by a wave of melancholia and you take it that the medicine is working.

Uncomfortable walking out of your apartment in your dress, you put on a coat as you leave the apartment with the sounds of your heels clicking against the floor.

The owner of the building passed away yesterday, there are so many guests visiting the penthouse where he lived. The first elevator that arrives on your floor is crowded so you skip on getting on that one. You patiently wait for the next one to arrive while clutching your purse in front of you.

A minute later, the other elevator arrives and the doors slide open, you see there's someone else inside. You believe he's been from the penthouse from how he dressed in all black.

You look down to avoid eye contact and step inside, standing at the back of the limited space while trying not to look at the man's face on the reflection from the mirror that walled the elevator.

Arrived in the main lobby, the elevator dings open and the man doesn't waste time but walks out with hands shoved inside his coat pocket.

You fix your coat before stepping out and you feel your feet kicking on something, it's clattering across the floor. You bend down to pick it up, something that you guess is a pocket watch.

Your first thought is that it belongs to the man and you look around to see if he's still around to give it to him, but he's nowhere. It's as if he's gone with the wind.

"Miss, your driver has been waiting outside!" The concierge informs you from behind his desk the second he sees you.

"Yes. I'm coming!" You hurriedly shove the pocket watch inside your purse.

As Kim instructed, you come late to the exhibition and it's already filled with people dressed so impeccably for the occasion. You take a deep breath before entering the scene that is the least you wanted to be.

You take your coat off and hand it to the girl handling the coat check, along with your purse. You feel naked even though you're not, but it's not just the dress, being in the crowd is not your forte.

The first thing to do in a situation like this is to find Kim. You avoid making contact with everyone you're walking past as you look for her in the crowd. It's not hard to spot her when she's always the center of attention anywhere she is.

"There she is!" She gasps the moment she sees you're coming her way.

She puts away her champagne flute and walks up to you, embracing you like the trophy you are, "My rising star!"

Kim puts her hand on the small of your back and smiles brightly while discreetly judging your look.

"Isn't she amazing?" She brags you off to the group of people she's talking to.

You can only sheepishly smile next to her and avoid everyone's eyes.

"She is the artist behind those magnificent sculptures," she adds with that saccharine smile of hers.

They're starting to throw praises at you and you can hear all of them talking at once, making you more uncomfortable staying in there.

You take a step back but Kim's hand does not allow you to escape, she glances at you and takes the cue.

"Excuse us," Kim says to everyone, "Enjoy the exhibition!"

Kim steers you away and pulls you aside, before you can comment on her choice of dress, she snatches the chance from you.

"You could've picked nicker shoes," she whispers through her gritted teeth at you.

You automatically look down to see your heeled shoes which you think match the dress you're wearing.

"I–I think it's—"

She cuts through your words, not giving you a chance to explain. She grabs you by the elbow, "We have no time to change it," she says, then steers you somewhere.

As Kim continues to brag you around like you're the art piece instead of the artist, you start to get that feeling that she's using you.

As a matter of fact, she used you to propel her career as an art dealer. Ever since you agreed to let her sell your art for you, her career took off.

You're more than happy to be of help but she does everything extra and she's been taking you to meet a lot of people that their faces started to blur and it's getting overwhelming that you need to get out of it.

"I'll just—" You barely finish your sentence when you walk away and find somewhere to gain some composure.

You keep walking until you find the restroom and push yourself inside, lock yourself in one of the stalls just sit on the toilet, and just breathe.

You hear the ruckus outside the stall and someone probably needs to use the toilet, you reluctantly get up to start heading outside.

The plan to leave unnoticed comes to a failure when Kim is already there right outside the restroom, "Where have you been?"

You take a deep breath to calm yourself and try to explain, "Kim, I don't think I can do this anymore. I—"

Then again, she never let you finish your sentence, "One more. I need you to meet your new potential buyer."

You grip the side of your dress and you feel like tearing it apart, "No, Kim. You know how I do with people, I don't— I just want to go home," you desperately tell her just to let you go when you're an adult and can do whatever you want.

Kim lets out an exaggerated huff and sends her fringe flying off her forehead, crossing her arms in front of her and you know what's coming for you.

"You think I'm doing this for me?" She asks.

Actually, yes. The initial plan is to sell your art but in the end, she makes it all about her.

"I'm doing it for you!" She says, turning it all on to you. She always finds a way to turn it all on to you, making you feel guilty and defeated.

Talking back to her means that you're saying yes to war and you don't want to fight a losing fight. You fist the fabric of your dress trying to suppress the anger brewing inside you.

"Just one more person," you meekly say.

Her face softens at the sign that you're once again giving her the power, "That's right. Just one more and I'll let you go."

You finally let go of your dress and you wipe your sweaty palm down the back of your dress as she guides you back to the gallery.

"All you have to do is stand next to me, smiling and explaining your art to people," Kim instructed like that wasn't what you've been doing all night.

Except that she forgot that you need to fake all of that.

Kim takes you to one of your sculpture displays and three people in suits have been waiting, talking with drinks in their hands.

"Hello, gentlemen," Kim says with an extra polite voice that makes you shudder at how fake she sounded.

"Heard you're looking for the amazing artist behind these beautiful sculptures?" She continues, presenting you like you're the one who's about to get sold, not the sculpture.

One of the three seems to be the one in charge with a stance that oozes confidence and power, a smirk that only someone who grew up with a silver spoon stuck to his mouth can master. He looks years older than you but his face shows no fine lines but that's just because he never had to frown in his life.

"I adore your art so much," he praises with a teeth-baring smile.

Kim turns at you and introduces him, "This is Nicholas de Ville from the de Ville family."

The way she enunciated his last name only means that this person holds importance and she expects you to impress him.

He holds his hand out next with an expensive, shining wristwatch decorated his wrist, "I'm Nicholas de Ville. You can call me Nick."

He may seem nice and polite because all privileged people learn manners but they only apply that lesson in real life occasionally.

You take his hand or else Kim will force you to do it. You shake his hand for a while and accidentally meet his gaze as you try to take your hand back.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. de Ville!" You say as politely as you can.

"Nick, please!" He insists with a smile.

"And the pleasure is all mine." He adds with a smile that says so many things and they send a chill down your spine.

Kim lets go of her hand and lightly touches you on your arm, "Mr. de Ville wants to know more about your sculptures so..." she quietly pushes you his way.

Nick courteously laughs and says, "Would you be kind enough to give me the tour?"

You consider it for a moment but seeing Kim's glare, you know you have no option.

"Yes, sure, I would love to," you answer with a strained smile.

"Great! Please, lead the way!" Nick says.

When you think the other two are coming with you, it's just you and Nick, walking through your sculptures and you explain each one without trying to bore him like Kim has taught you a few times.

"... it's inspired by the Greek mythology. The apple in the arrow means that when it comes to love, we know no rules, we follow our desires—"

Nick is too busy looking at you instead of looking at the sculpture you're tirelessly explaining to him. Guessing that he isn't interested, you stop talking altogether.

"I'm sorry if I'm rambling," you sheepishly say to him and keep looking at the sculpture.

"No, no, that's okay," Nick says with a smile and takes a stand close to you, also looking at the sculpture.

"Your art is as beautiful as you," he says.

You're getting uncomfortable at how close he is with his elbow brushing yours. You nervously swallow air and lowly mutter, "Thank you."

Nick takes it the wrong way. He takes it that you're replying to his flirtation when you thought he was earnestly complimenting you, he starts to place his hand on your shoulder.

You reflexively shrug his hand away but that only sends his hand down to your back where he can touch your exposed skin. As his fingers make contact with your skin, you take a step back until his hand drops.

"I'm sorry," you regret apologizing for something that you didn't do wrong.

He looks at you as if he didn't just do something wrong or touch you without your consent. You feel repulsed by yourself and take another step back, "I'm sorry, I just need to—"

You keep walking away, away and never looking back.

The musty smell and dust that hang in the air welcome you to the studio.

You take your dress off the first thing you do when you get there and put on any clothes you can find in the dresser, a black T-shirt and worn-out jeans.

You put your earrings inside your purse and the pocket watch you collected earlier spills out of it, falling onto the couch.

You're intrigued to see inside the locket to get a hint on who the owner is, you're trying so hard to open it with the strength you have but it won't budge.

Exhausted from trying to open the antique-looking object, you give up and walk over to the sculpture you're working on. You put the pocket watch down on the table next to your carving tools, then pick up a chisel and a hammer.

For every hit of the hammer, you feel like unleashing something that makes you feel lighter and lighter and makes you hit the chisel harder and harder.

You eventually get exhausted and take a step back, leaning against the table while looking at the unshapen block of stone in front of you.

You grope around for a bottle of water and take a sip, putting it down as you wipe your mouth after. Your fingers nudge something as you place your hand on the table, it's the pocket watch blinking under the fluorescent light.

It seems to be calling for you, inviting you to try and uncover the mystery inside.

Looking at the small chisel next to it, you decide to give it another try by prying it open with the chisel. You slip the sharp end in the crack and use your strength to push it open only for the chisel to slide to the slide, cutting the side of your finger.

You drop the pocket watch as blood drops from the wound onto the table. It's not the first time you injured yourself, you know what to do. You go to the bathroom, wash your finger under the running water then grab your first aid kit from the drawer.

After tending to your small injury, you decide to not continue working when you're angry. You take another sip of water and lie down on the couch.

With the quiet that hangs in the room, you slowly drift into sleep.

SEVEN DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD.

The darkness greets you even though you have opened your eyes.

Pretty sure you kept one of the lights on when you went to sleep but it's all dark now in the room, you can't see anything but lights that shine through the cracks of the blinds.

You slowly get up from the couch to turn the light on, carefully walking to where the switch is, and once you flip it, lights flood the room.

The first thing you see is the pocket watch that is now open, you walk over to the table and pick it up to see inside that it's just a normal watch but it doesn't have numbers on it like all watches have.

You close it and see that your blood tainted the lid, this time, you can easily open it without a hassle.

"Hello!" A voice says.

Surprised to hear a voice coming from it, you drop it back onto the table. A moment later, you laugh it off, thinking that you misheard it considering that you just woke up from sleep.

With hesitancy, you pick the pocket watch again and look at it. Your thumb wipes the glass cover of the watch.

"Hi, Hello, I'm Minho. I'm a demon. You anointed this talisman with your blood so now we're bound together and—"

It speaks again and in response, you hurl it across the room until it hits the wall and drops onto the floor. You stand there, frozen on your feet, and wonder...

"Look, I've got a whole introductory speech here," the voice says again, coming from the part of the room where the pocket watch is.

For protection, you stand behind the open bathroom door and look at the pocket watch talking like a lunatic you are.

"We got to work together," it says.

You whimper hearing the voice again and you know that it's real, you're not making this up.

"Can you pick me up? Just pick me up. Come on, pick me up! Please?" It demands.

You take cautious steps to get to where the pocket watch lies on the floor.

"That's it, come on. Come on. I won't bite, I promise. Come on," it says as if it could see that you're coming to pick it up.

You swallow air and slowly bend down to pick it up from the floor, holding the pocket watch in your hand.

"As I was saying, you anointed the talisman and the rules are you've got to carry out three human sacrifices over the next seven days or else the world is going to end," it speaks again.

That's a lot of information to take in, not to mention that you're already having a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that the pocket watch is talking to you.

"W-what?" You breathlessly say.

"If you want me to help you, you need to permit me entry."

Entry? That sounds like a bad idea. You just stand there and look at the pocket watch.

"Do you permit me entry? Yes or no?" It asks.

You shake your head and convince yourself that maybe it is not real.

"You have to say yes. Just say the word yes."

This is not real, you tell yourself out loud.

"Or let's do this, if you say yes, I'll... I'll stop, okay? I'll go away. You'll never hear from me again like this didn't happen." It persuades.

This is not real, this is not real, you chant in your head.

"Just say yes. Say it! Say it. Say it. Say it," it chants louder and it starts to fill your head, endlessly echoing.

You want it to stop so you impulsively say, "Yes."

The chants stop and the light flickers off, filling the room with darkness again. You whimper in fear as the pocket watch starts ticking in your hand.

You hear something deeply breathing a few feet from behind you. Curious, you spin around on your feet to see what it is, but you can't see it as it's lurking in the dark

However, you feel good about not being able to see it as fear creeping up inside you. You walk backward until you hit the wall behind you.

"Hey, come on, what's the matter?" The thing says as he takes a step forward, revealing his form to you.

The first thing you can make out the shape of that thing is two long horns on his head and two red eyes.

"All right. I lied about going away," he says in a deep, growling voice.

"My regular appearance is a bit too much for this realm."

He takes a step back and disappears in the dark. After a while, he takes another step to the front and has already taken a different shape. He looks normal now, as in looking like a human and not just any human, he looks like...

"I peered into your soul and apparently, this is a physical look you find appealing so..." he says with his arms spread out and a proud grin on his face.

"I don't know. Let me have a look!" He walks over to the mirror hung on the wall next to you.

He looks just like the sculpture you made, he has a sharp nose, chiseled jaws, and a hair color as intense as red roses go. You feel a mix of fear, awe, and confusion inside and it's getting overwhelming.

He leans close to the mirror and fixes his hair, "Wow!"

He seems impressed by how he looks, "Okay, isn't it what you want?" He turns to you.

Not getting an answer from you, he smiles, then says, "Uh... I mean, I can work with this."

You can only whimper with your mouth parted open, having a hard time wrapping your head around this situation. If it's happening or not, is he real or not, did you take your meds or not?

"You have to calm down so we can talk. Just talk to me!" Minho says, noticing that you're in a state of panic.

For a split second, you see his eyes flash like those belonging to feline creatures, gleaming like two marbles in the dark. You can feel cold sweat on your back as you slump down against the wall until you're sitting down on the floor.

He squats down in front of you and reaches for your head but you're quick to dodge away from it.

"You know, we have got to work together," he assures you.

It's not fair that he has a face that came from your imagination, it gives you a sense of familiarity that lures you to give in. However, you're not sure if you should be giving in to him.

You bang the back of your head to the wall, close your eyes, and repeatedly chant like it's a mantra, "You're not real. You're not real. You're not real."

But that is not enough to expel him. You open your eyes and still find him there. hand and a grin.

"Like I said, we have got to work together," he tells you again.

To give you the space to gather your thoughts, he walks around the studio while talking, "You marked the talisman. I don't make the rules."

With the lights turning back on, your eyes can easily follow his figure going around the room and looking at the sculpture you're working on.

His fingers slowly graze the rough surface of the carved stone and then he turns his head at you.

"Basically, we need to deliver three human sacrifices by next Friday or else it's..." he informs you again as if you haven't heard him the first time, "burning skies time."

You can feel anxiety rising inside you and your throat is closing up, making it harder for you to breathe.

"I sense you need convincing. Uh..." Minho walks up to you again and offers his hands to you.

You look at his hands for a moment before letting him help you to get up from the floor. You imagine your hands reaching for fragments of your imagination but instead of that, you feel his warm skin and firm grip as he hoists you up until you're standing on your feet.

If he's not real then how can you hold him?

He looks at you for a second to make sure you're okay then nods, "Let me show you how this will play out, alright? What will happen if we don't succeed," he says.

He walks to stand behind you and puts a hand in front of your eyes, "You ready?" He asks, his hot breath fans your neck as he speaks.

You're not sure what he's asking you to get ready for. You're not even sure if you're living the reality right now.

"Ready?" He asks again and once again his breath tickles your ear.

"3, 2, 1!"

As if you're being transported to another time and place, you open your eyes to see fire. It's the studio but it is on fire.

"This is what we're dealing with!" Minho says but you can't see him anywhere.

Fire is everywhere and you can feel the heat of it burning your skin and thick smoke filling your lungs that you start coughing, retching for air.

"Scorching wall of flame. It's agonizing death for all and so on," he continues.

You're flailing around to get air, walking to the window to open it only to find it hot to touch and you see that the whole city burns with you. You hear people screaming and sirens blaring everywhere but anywhere you look, it's just blazing fire.

You get away from the window until your back hits the table behind you and snaps you back to reality. Your head turns to the side and see Minho there, leaning against the table next to you.

"See, burning people they smell like... a burnt slice of meat on a griddle. It's better if you dissociate from it," he coyly says.

The images are so vivid that you feel the need to escape it, run away from here and so you do. You make a run to the door and he's already standing there next to it.

"If we're being honest, I don't want the apocalypse to come about any more than you do," he says.

You turn the knob and open it, running through the hall that leads to the exit door. Yet Minho is already there too.

"So let's stop it happening, you and me, mmh?" He says to you.

"All we have to do is deliver three sacrifices in seven days," he pops at the end of the hall.

You yank the door open and find him standing outside the door.

"It's only three killings," he says with a malicious laugh.

You rush to climb down the steps trying to escape what you know is like trying to get out of your head, it's inescapable.

"Animals don't count. You have to do humans," Minho informs at the base of the stairs.

You hurriedly unlock the iron gate and pull it open, running into the street in the middle of the night but of course, he's already there too.

"We can do like one kill a day but I'm good with one kill in two days and—"

You decide to go the other way from where Minho is standing and just aimlessly walking to avoid him. You know the neighborhood but not as good as when it's at night.

You walk down the stairs that lead to the riverbank, feeling more afraid of Minho instead of being mugged at night.

"That is fewer people than die falling off ladders in the same time period," Minho magically appears on the stairs, leaning against the railing.

"You'd be less lethal than a ladder," he adds with a sly smirk.

Your eyes are watery either from the cold wind or the anxiety taking over you. You sniffle before talking to him, "If I talk to you, you're real so I'm not going—"

You walk away before you can finish your sentence and walk along the riverbank, hugging yourself.

"Well, we started conversing already so that ship has sailed."

You can't believe that he's still following you when he knows exactly why you are trying to get away.

"No, it hasn't," you persist when you know he's right.

"Oh, oh yes it has," he talks back with a mocking tone.

You stop on your track and grunt in frustration, bending down to pick whatever is close to you.

Minho stops walking as well and says, "Don't worry. We're a team. I'm on your side, you know?"

He takes a step forward and keeps talking, ignoring that he's the reason why you're so frustrated.

"Let's just get kill number one under your belt, mmh?" He says in a softer tone.

You turn at him, your finger pointing right at his sharp nose and sternly tell him, "You can stop it because I am not killing anyone!"

You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and try to face him again, "You're not real so I don't why you keep talking to me," you snarl.

Minho coyly smiles at you and calmly responds, "That's what I'm here for. Moral support!"

He takes even a closer step to you and lowers his voice, "So, just hold on to that rock and hit someone with it!"

You get confused by what he said, "What rock?"

He eyes your hand on your side, "The one in your hand, love!" He answers.

You don't even realize you've been holding it until he pointed it out. The moment you know, you can feel its weight in your hand.

You gasp in surprise and glare at Minho, "I'm not doing what you say."

You hear footsteps coming from under the bridge and turn around to see a middle-aged man, "Are you alright, Miss?"

But Minho sees it as an opportunity, he stands and looms behind you, whispering evil things into your head.

"Mmmh... yeah," he hums in victory.

"He's perfect. No witnesses. Talk about beginner's luck," he whispers to you so close that it feels like he's living inside your head.

You feel his hand resting on your shoulder as he further persuades you, "Just one quick pop to the head and you're done."

For a second, you wanted to do what he said just so he could stop bothering you. However, the conscience in you is talking you out of it.

You walk toward the man and try to seek help from him, "Please, make him stop!" You say, gesturing to Minho who's standing right next to you.

The man looks confused by what you said and asks, "Make who stop?"

Disoriented by what's real or not, you keep looking back at Minho, then at the man, getting pushed to where you hit your limit.

The man walks up to you, feeling more concerned for you that he asks again, "Is everything alright?"

The relentless demon he is, Minho stands close next to you and whispers, "Would it help if I told you I can see into this man's soul and he absolutely deserves to die?"

This time you know it's his way to get what he wants, to get you to do the deed. You look away and hastily shout, "Shut up!"

Yet Minho keeps talking about the man as he's giving you a stare, one that you're way too familiar with, and convinces you that he thinks you're crazy.

"He has a wife and a daughter, you want to know what he does to them?" Minho's words hold intense hatred in them like you can feel the bitterness of it on your tongue.

You look at him to see if he's just tricking you to kill the man, "Don't trust me? Well, get a load of this!"

Minho covers your eyes with his hand again and this time, images of the man abusing his wife and daughter over and over again that you can't bear to watch anymore.

He snaps you back to reality again and says, "You'll save them both from years of pain, shame, and guilt."

Fueled by the rage from what you've seen through Minho's vision, you launch yourself at the man and hit him hard on the head, sending him tumbling to the side and into the river.

You stand there watching his body sinking into the water until the air stops bubbling to the surface of water and that's when you're certain that he's dead.

The man is dead.

Despite the shock, you manage to walk away while still carrying the rock in your hand, and once you realize you've been holding to it long enough. You throw it into the river then break into a run back to the studio.

You vomit everything into the toilet bowl once you're back in the studio, retching nothing but saliva and air.

Minho is standing at the doorway of the bathroom as he says, "It takes some used to but a couple more of that and I'll be out of your hair," he says.

You flush the toilet and sit on the bathroom floor, looking at him with teary eyes and the shock that hasn't left your body yet.

He pulls out the pocket watch and shows you that the Roman number written inside has gone one line, "See? One line has gone which means one sacrifice registered. Two to go."

You get up from the floor and drag yourself to the couch, feeling so drained by whatever has driven you to do unimaginable things, one that you thought you'd never done in your life.

Morning has passed but you can't find the energy to live for the day.

You're lying down on the couch watching the sky turn brighter with every hour passed. It hasn't sunk in yet what you did last night. It feels like a dream but at the same time, you can still feel the weight of the rock in your hand.

Minho has been quiet but you know he's lurking in the room and he decides to interfere by standing in front of you.

He tips his head to the side and asks, "How long are you going to stay like this?"

He then sits on the other end of the couch and says, "Well, you have to, at least, do whatever it is you do as a sculptor. You can't have people getting suspicious."

How come he takes it lightly? How did he get so calm after telling you to kill a man and watch you doing it?

"Fucking shut up!" You shout at him.

Talking to him makes everything unbearably real and it makes you recollect what happened last night. The guilt, the disgust you feel for yourself, the blood on your hands, you can see everything now under the daylight.

"I killed a man," you croak, saying it hurts that tears start to crawl out of you.

"I've killed someone," you meekly say with a tear rolling down from the corner of your eyes.

"Yeah, but that was hours ago," Minho nonchalantly says.

"I keep feeling the crack of his skull on the rock," you pause to sniffle and turn to look at Minho, "I did that."

But he wouldn't get what you feel because he's not a human in the first place. Minho is a demon.

"It's your fault. You're not even—" You stop talking because it's no use to talk to an entity that knows no compassion.

You brush your hair to the back and deeply sigh. Turning your head at Minho again to ask, "Why is this happening to me?"

You use the heel of your hand to press on your eye to stop crying, "I'm not a bad person."

"No, no, no," Minho quickly denies.

He moves to stand behind the couch and leans close to you, "It wouldn't work if you were. It has to be someone corruptible," he explains.

Your forehead wrinkles and forms a questioning look on your face, trying to make sense of what he said.

"If you think about it, what's happening here, it reflects really well on your character," he says with a smile.

What he said only assures you that you are a bad person. What you did is the reflection of what you truly are, a bad person.

You nod and wipe your wet cheek with the back of your hand. You get up to sit on the couch and grab your purse, rummaging inside to pull out your phone.

"What are you doing?" Minho asks with a panicked voice.

You dial the police line on your phone and show it to him, "Calling the police."

He jolts on his feet and sits next to you on the couch as you hit the call button.

"But why?" He asks.

You can hear the dialing tone ringing so close to your ear, "So they'll arrest me," you simply answer.

Minho nervously chuckles, "Then you won't be able to do the other sacrifices," he reminds you to rethink your choices.

"Good!" You shortly respond, trying to stay in your right mind this time.

"Then the Apocalypse will happen and billions will die. I know, I know, I get it. You don't want blood on your hand but if it saves billions..." He's babbling, desperately trying to stop you from turning yourself in.

The way he puts it that way, he makes you choose the lesser between the two evils.

"Hello, police department, may I help you?" The operator speaks on the phone.

Kill three people who deserve it or save billions of innocent people?

You find yourself hanging up the call and putting your phone away, once again failing to do the right thing.

"See? You're a good person!" Minho says as he exhales in relief.

To be honest, you don't know what's good or bad, right or wrong anymore. It's one big blur to you.

You feel frustrated once again, you feel like a failure but on the bigger picture, you're trying to stop the world from ending.

But can you really save everyone?

You can't wait to dwell on everything in the comfort of your apartment. Before you can do all that, you need to set boundaries with him. You face him and look him right in the eyes, "I have six days to kill two more so please, give me a break for now."

Minho gets quiet for a moment before nodding in agreement, "That's fair."

Feeling the need to wash yourself from whatever it is clinging to your body, you get a shower and take your meds to help you decompress while sitting on the end of your bed in your bathrobe.

"I don't know why you take those pills," Minho says as he enters your room.

You quietly sigh at him and say, "Can you at least give me a few minutes until it's working?"

"Want to wash it down with wine?" He offers, showing the bottle of red in his hand.

You shake your head, "I can't drink alcohol after taking antidepressants," you answer, not sure why bother answering him.

"That sucks!" He says and puts the wine bottle down on top of your dresser, "I was thinking we could celebrate our first kill."

You feel a little faint at the mention of the word kill and celebrate being put in one sentence. You climb onto the bed and pull your duvet, "I need to rest."

Minho appears at the end of your bed, looking down at you with his dark, wide eyes, "That's right. We have a lot to do tomorrow."

"Can you turn the lights out for me?"

"Certainly."

The room turns dark but you get a newfound comfort in it.

"Goodnight," Minho's voice caresses your ears like a spring breeze.

You don't want to get used to this but you feel inexplicably at ease that there's someone else with you in this vast emptiness.

"Goodnight, Minho."

SIX DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD

You jolt awake to the sounds of your phone ringing on your bedside table and you know who it is without having to look at the contact name. Your fingers are tapping the phone screen as you squint your eyes to make sure you hit the accept call button.

"Yeah?" You ask as you put the phone on the side of your face while you're lying on your side with your eyes closed.

"You're still sleeping?" Kim asks, noticing the sleep in your voice.

"Mm-mmh," you hum in answer.

"You know what time it is?"

"I don't know. Nine or ten?" You wildly guess by how badly you want to go back to sleep.

You hear her sighing from the other line of the call, "It's almost 2 in the afternoon," she says.

You force your eyes to open to check the time yourself and see that it is indeed two in the afternoon.

"Oh?" You innocently gasp.

Realizing that may piss her off, you hurried to shift the conversation elsewhere, "Yeah, uh... why are you calling again?"

You fear that she's going to be mad about you abruptly leaving the exhibition or worse if she knew about Nick. You hold your breath, anticipating her answer.

"Oh, yes, I have good news," she says with a smile that you can feel from your end of the line.

"You sold four sculptures, darling!" She squeals.

That's exciting news but you don't have it in you to participate in that excitement, yet you feel relieved you can properly breathe at ease.

"That's... That's great!" You meekly say while raking your hair to the back with your fingers.

"I've been calling you since yesterday, you know that?"

"Oh? I, uhm..." You take a moment to think of an answer.

Summoned a demon? Found out that you have seven days to the end of the world? Killed someone to stop it?

"I needed—"

"Never mind!" She rudely cuts you off, "Guessing from how tired you sounded, you must be going straight back to work, huh?"

The sculpture is still a chunk of unshapen stone but yeah, you worked on it just a bit. Well, a work is a work.

"Yeah, I-I did," you sputter your answer yet thankful that all of her guesses are off the mark.

"I'll come with the paperwork tomorrow. For now, you can rest now or work some more, knock yourself out," she says, couldn't care less about what you're doing now that you've made money and she got to feed on a few percent of it.

"Thanks, Kim!" You say, because it's better to always be on her good side.

"Oh, come on! We both working hard," she kindly refuses but you know she feels entitled to this.

"Let's have a dinner to celebrate," she suggests.

"Yeah, yeah," you half-heartedly answer.

"Talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay."

"Bye!"

You don't even bother to say it back knowing that she'll hang up right after she said her bye. Since you've woken up already, you sit up on the bed and pull your knees up, hugging your feet as you gather your thoughts.

In your peripheral vision, you see a flash of red from the doorway of your room. You turn to look and see Minho standing with the side of his body leaning against the doorframe.

The all-black outfit he's wearing makes his honey skin glow and his hair look like a blazing fire under the sunlight. He smiles once he notices your eyes are on him.

"Morning, sunshine!" He sweetly greets you with a smile that is a little unsettling but a whole lot attractive.

He crosses his arms in front of him, exposing the veins coiling his forearms, "Oh, wait, it's way past noon," he says with a grin.

Looking at him only reminds you of the responsibility you're carrying on your shoulders: saving billions of people from being incinerated.

"Are you always like this or...?" Minho asks, breaking the silence that hung in the room as you think of the dire situation you're in.

Minho approaches you and stands at the end of the bed, "You can't stay in all day. We only have five and a half days left," he reminds you of the time-sensitive quest you're in.

The only way to save those billions is by killing three people. That's the only thing on the pro list, there are just too many cons, mainly on the killing part. The only good thing that comes out of it so far is that you only need to do two more killings.

God! What have you become?

"What should I do?" You hopelessly ask him even though it's a bad idea to ask a demon such a question.

"Just carry on as usual so the people around you don't get spooked," he answers.

It's you and him, him and you, there's no one else you can seek help from.

Minho is right. You can't just sit here and watch the day goes by or else the thing you've done would come to a waste.

You slowly scoot over to sit on the edge of the bed and rub the sleep of your eyes, not ready to face the day when you know you only have six days left to stop the end of the world.

"And while we're going on about the day we can decide who to kill next," Minho adds.

The devilish grin looks beautiful on his sculpted face but everything he says sending a chill down your spine.

"Oh, an old lady!" Minho exclaims as an elderly lady enters the elevator.

You silently watch as he scoots closer to her and smells her head, "She smells like... oh! She's sweet."

You silently groan in the corner watching what he's doing.

He places his hand on the lady's shoulder and says, "She can't stop thinking about the end though. She can't wait for it to come."

He looks at you with that wild grin plastered on his face, "You'd be doing her a favor."

You lightly shake your head at him to make him stop playing around the poor lady but he doesn't get the clues.

"She dreams of death. Even now—"

"Shut up!" You say through your gritted teeth.

The old lady turns to look at you, "What is it, my dear?"

You quickly put on a smile for her, "Oh, nothing," you politely say.

Minho walks up to stand next to you again and whispers in your ear, "Just do it. No one will miss her."

"Shut up!" You whisper back while throwing daggers with your eyes at him.

"She's nearly dead already!"

Thankfully, the elevator dings open and shoots his idea down as you step out of the elevator.

"We need to start to pick someone!" He persists as he follows you walking in the lobby.

Minho is such a nuisance.

It's hard to ignore him when he keeps talking, making remarks about everyone he sees, and constantly around you the whole time.

It's when you're working on your sculpture that you get to immerse yourself in your work and disassociate from reality.

All you hear is the slamming sound of your hammer on the chisel and pieces of stone falling onto the floor. Looking down at the mess you made, you spot one particular piece of stone lying close to your feet. You stare at it for too long you get the recollection of that night.

The weight of the rock in your hand, how you bashed someone's head with it, and the splashing sound of the man falling into the water, all of that vividly playing in the back of your head.

You stagger backward and drop your chisel onto the floor, the clattering sound echoing in the spacious studio.

"I've been meaning to tell you this," Minho appears from behind the sculpture, startling you.

"We should order food," he suggests.

You put away your hammer and take off your mask, walking to the mini fridge to get a bottle of water.

"You're a demon. You feed on..." You think for a moment to finish your sentence as you unscrew the cap of the bottle.

He snatches the flyer stuck to the fridge door and asks, "Pizza?"

You close the fridge and walk over to the couch, plopping yourself down before chugging some water into your system.

"You need to eat so you can—"

"Kill?" You finish his sentence.

Minho scrunches his nose and sits on the armrest of the couch next to you, "I was about to say think but yeah, that too," he says.

You untie your pinafore and throw it aside, he isn't wrong to say that you need to eat. What's the point of saving the world if you're going to die of starvation?

You let out a sigh and grab the flyer from his hand, typing the numbers on your phone screen.

"Cheese pizza, please? With a lot of pepperoni!"

How can you believe that he's a demon when his choice of pizza topping is like a toddler's?

"Good evening, Miss!" The concierge greets you as he sees you enter the door.

"Hi," you greet back, impatiently wanting to get back to your apartment to dwell on your fate again.

"Miss Kim came by and dropped something for you," he informs, taking out a big envelope from your mailing box.

There's a faint sound coming from the small TV tuned to a news broadcast when you come to the desk to collect it.

"Here it is, Miss," he slides the big brown envelope across the shiny surface of the desk. There's a note on top of it which you immediately recognize as Kim's.

You open to do a quick check on what's inside when you hear a glimpse of the news from the TV.

"...man found dead in the river has been identified as Ben Watson, a financial officer of a bank company, leaving a wife and a seven-year-old daughter who has been notified about his tragic death..."

You glance at the small screen and see the photograph of the man you killed that night. You can't possibly be wrong about this when you remember the horror on his face as you lifted the rock before swinging it hard to his head.

"Is there anything wrong, Miss?" The concierge asks.

You snap yourself out of your daze and put the envelope close to your chest as if someone about to steal it from you.

"No, no," your voice is quivering in panic at the sight of the man you killed.

"Thank you," you abruptly the conversation with gratitude and walking fast to the elevator.

The warm water doesn't work to calm you down when you're tainted inside. You feel filthy, inside and out. You feel sick seeing your reflection in the mirror.

You've been holding your medicine in your hand but you need something stronger, you ditch the pill and run to the kitchen.

You pull out the wine you have in the kitchen cabinet and drink it straight from the bottle, chugging it like it's water. You gasp when you stop drinking, taking the bottle with you as you sit on the sofa while you're still in your bathrobe.

"This is how you're going to end the day?" Minho asks, taking the bottle of wine from you to take a sip.

"Can you stop talking about killing for just—" You choke on air as anger bubbles up inside you.

Minho holds his hands up in defeat and leans back on the sofa next to you, "I'm just saying..." he meekly says.

The silence only resides for a minute until he speaks again, "Look, the earlier you get it done—" he stops talking when you shoot him a glare.

You take the bottle of wine from him and take a long gulp, a drop of wine escapes the corner of your mouth, dripping down your chin.

You aggressively wipe it with the sleeve of your bathrobe and recline on the sofa, looking out at the city lights that look like pinpricks in the dark of the night.

"I'm crazy..." you sadly remark.

Those words remind you of a sobering fact that what people think of you: crazy.

Ever since you were still an art student, people often found you talking to yourself in class, always in your little world with your imaginary friend. That leads you to this solitary life because normal people avoid crazy.

"People are right about me. I'm crazy," you state again, and saying it out loud makes your heart aches.

Minho turns his head and looks at you with his dark eyes that weirdly provide you warmth, "You're not crazy."

But why would a normal person kill a person because a demon told him to? You don't even know if he's real and not a product of your imagination.

"I'm a murderer..." you say with a heavy sigh and an even heavier heart.

He scoots closer until he sits close next to you, his shoulder bumps with yours on the big sofa that could fit five people. He looks at you and gently says, "Yeah, but not a crazy one."

Minho has a way of looking at bad things positively. You chuckle at the irony of his words. You can't tell if you should be happy that you're not crazy or sad that you're indeed a murderer.

He slumps down on the sofa to be on the same level as you, also turning his head to look at the view, "Want to know something?"

Instead of answering, you take a sip of the wine. You know he'll keep talking even if you refuse him.

"This is actually my first assignment," he shares.

He drops his hand on the space on the sofa, merely inches away from yours, "It's more of an initiation, sort of earning my wings."

You look at him and get a little taken aback by the proximity you can see yourself in his eyes. You almost forget what you were trying to say to him, "What are you trying to say?"

You look away because he looks exactly like the one you envisioned on your sculpture, divinely beautiful that it's hard to comprehend.

"I'm saying that I'm new to this too," he answers.

Again, you can't tell if you should be happy or sad to know that. Strangely though, you find comfort in his words.

You look at his hand splayed so close to yours and it evokes the curiosity in you that needs to be fed. You gently flip over his hand and gently slip your fingers on the spaces between his fingers, you can feel the warmth and the roughness of his finger pads on each finger.

Minho is real, he's real, you perpetually assure yourself.

You glance at him and he's looking at you, your eyes meet in a tender gaze.

"Are you real, Minho?"

You're aware of how much that question weighs. If the answer is no, you know the insurmountable pain you brought onto yourself.

He slowly blinks and you can see his dark lashes fanning out so beautifully. His crimson-red lips open and says, "I'm as real as you want me to be."

Words aren't enough to convince you. With the despair filling your heart, you lean in and innocently put your lips on his. It's a kiss that feels more than just a physical act, one that you didn't know you needed.

After getting the reassurance that you need, you pull away. However, the hand lingering on your jaw tells otherwise. He touches your face with just his fingertips yet it's enough to send a tingle inside.

Slowly, he leans in to kiss your closed eyelids ever so softly and before you know it, he brings your face closer to place a tender kiss on your lips.

And for the first time in your life, you feel the warmth no one has ever given you.

FIVE DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD

"You wake up early!" Minho says as you dress up to get ready for the day.

You ignore his words, continue collecting your things around the room, and put them into your bag.

"Are you trying to match your clothes with me?" He says, looking at your all-black outfit while sitting on the headrest of the sofa.

This morning, you woke up on the sofa still in your bathrobe and a blanket covered your body. The first thing you remember is you kissed him last night and somehow, it convinces you to keep going with the quest.

However, you still feel conflicted with what you do. You need to make sure of one thing.

"How about this handsome fucker?" Minho asks, pointing to the other person riding the elevator with you.

The man looks indeed handsome, he dressed so impeccably when it's only ten in the morning. He catches you looking and smiles at you.

You politely smile back and look away only to face Minho who's standing on the other corner of the elevator.

"He'll be losing his hair at the age of 32 and spends the next 29 years taking it out on his wife," he whispers even though no one can hear him but you.

The taxi ride to the hospital only takes fifteen minutes and you know where to go right away from the array of flower arrangements outside the separate building from the main hospital.

"Please tell me you're not doing what I'm thinking?" Minho asks in a concerned voice.

You wish to be able to shut him up for a few minutes until you can find what you're looking for. The hall is packed with people in black attire to what you can safely assume are the guests of the mourning family on the two funeral services being held by two different families.

You read the sign that leads to the Watson family yet pretend to be the one visiting the other family. Before you can sneak into their funeral service, you see someone taking the daughter outside.

"This is a bad idea!" Minho panickly says.

It's kind of alarming to hear because it's the first time he sounded genuinely concerned. You follow where the little girl is being taken and turns out, she's being taken to the park outside, probably to avoid her feeling overwhelmed.

"You're not a relative. People will get suspicious of you!" Minho nervously whispers.

You come over to the two men chatting and kindly ask for a cigarette even though you don't smoke. You stand at the other side of the door and take a drag of the smoke to be seen convincing.

"I know you're worried..." Minho sighs.

He stands next to you with his head hovering close to your ear. He takes a breath before talking, "She's not in mourning. She's not not mourning," he says as you both quietly watch the girl sitting on the bench and drinking a juice box.

"Happy that it's finished but sad that he's dead. But it has finished!" He emphasizes the last word.

You take another drag and accidentally do it excessively, sending you into a coughing fit.

"You spared her another five years of it. A lifetime of therapy," Minho explains, "a lifetime!"

You look at him to see if he meant what he said. He's a demon after all, the vision he forced you to see could be misleading, a trick to make you do what he says.

He looks back at you and smiles, "She's a mom at 29. A nan at 57," he shares.

See? He knows how to comfort you even though you don't ask for it. You give up on pretending to smoke and stab the cigarette butts onto the big ashtray. You shove your hands into the pocket of your jacket and start walking away to the parking lot.

"Why are you telling me this?" You curiously ask.

He nonchalantly shrugs as he walks next to you, "I just thought you'd like to know."

"Did you see that?" Minho shouts as he leisurely watches TV with his feet up on the couch.

You pretend not to hear him and continue sculpting, hitting the hammer harder, louder to drown out his voice. As if he read your mind, he appears behind you and places both of his hands on your shoulders.

"You should see this!" He insists, steering your body and making you watch the TV.

It's a broadcast of night news about climate change and he magically changes the channel to show news about nuclear testing.

"It's manifesting. Do you understand?"

Minho keeps switching the channel to show you every bad there is happening in the world, everything that shows the sign that the world is close to ending.

You lightly shrug him off and say, "We got this kind of news a few years ago but—"

Minho holds you by the shoulders and shakes you awake, "This is real. We don't have much time and you're the only one who can stop it!" He reminds you of the harsh truth.

Somehow that only makes you question why you have to be the one to bear such responsibility. Billions of people on earth and they chose you?

"I'm not ready yet. I'm—"

"Don't you want to see that little girl live her peaceful future?" Minho asks.

This is where you know he's being the demon he is, using your weakness to his advantage and making you give in to the temptation.

It's not so much a temptation when you have no other options, it's killing or being engulfed in flames on Friday. You muster up your courage and think of something to do.

The first killing was what Minho said it was: a beginner's luck, the man happened to be there and an abusive bastard, even in his grave, he shall not rest in peace.

This time, you plan to do it meticulously and without mistakes. You walk to the kitchen and pull open the drawer, taking out a knife you occasionally use to cut your sandwiches.

Minho shakes his head in disapproval of your choice of weapon, "You're not a knife person," he concludes.

You look at him, demanding an explanation behind that haste conclusion.

"It's messy. You could hurt yourself," he explains.

That sounds right. You put the knife back into the drawer and look around the studio to find potential killing weapons.

Minho leans into your side and whispers, "Let's choose something that is more you!"

You look at him and see that he's eyeing the table full of your sculpting tools.

You pick up the medium chisel and show it to him to seek his approval. You meet another disapproval as he strongly shakes his head.

"It's too specific. They'll know it's you. You're the only sculptor living in the area," he gives you an insight into how the devil's mind works.

You must admit that he just saved you from making a mistake. You pick another weapon that you're familiar with but also gives you the upper hand to do the killing. You pick up the hammer and turn around to show him.

A smile rises on his face as he nods in approval, "That's you! You're a basher!"

You bring the hammer close and observe it, it feels good around your hand since it's a tool that you work with most of your life.

"You've had the practice now. It'll be easier this time," Minho says with a sinister smile.

You want to believe his words so much but the nerves get to you. Your breathing becomes erratic once you realize what you're going to do with the hammer.

Minho puts his hand on the small of your back and holds you steady, "Liquor courage! That's what you need! Booze!" He suggests.

"I don't keep any alcohol in the studio," you meekly say.

Considering that sculpting involves a lot of sharp objects, it's wise to not keep anything that would dull your focus.

"Also, I just took an antidepressant an hour ago," you inform him.

"Oh, shit!" He curses and leans his body to the back, against the table.

Minho crosses his arms in front of him, then rubs his chin as he thinks of something. He then leers at you with a smirk dancing on his face, "Well, do you want a drink?"

There's a bar a few blocks away from your studio.

You got here in need of liquid courage and there's plenty of them here. You plan to only consume enough alcohol just to calm the nerves but not too much to lose your focus.

It gets you anxious to step into a new environment. You decide to go straight to order drinks.

"Whiskey, please?" You say to the bartender with a handlebar mustache.

Bartenders tend to remember the faces they have seen and yours must not have registered into his memory bank. He puts away the cloth he's holding.

"You want ice with it?" He asks.

"I'll have it dry," you answer since you came here for the alcohol, not for refreshment.

"Easy, love. We have work to do," Minho reminds as he props a hand against the countertop.

Knowing that one drink wouldn't be enough and you don't want to bother the bartender again for a drink, you decide to double.

"Make that two, please!" You hurriedly say before the bartender starts making your order.

"You don't have to get one for me," Minho grins at you.

The bartender takes another glass with him to finally fill them with your choice of potion.

"I didn't," you whisper back at him.

You immediately pay for it and bring your drinks with you to the empty spot in the corner of the bar, hidden behind the pool table.

You slowly sip your drink and feel it running through your system, stripping a layer of senses off of you, making you less aware of your surroundings.

"Okay, you see anyone tasty?" Minho asks as he sits next to you.

He cranes his neck looking for the next human sacrifice among the people who are enjoying their concoctions. His finger points to the guy with a beanie and drinking a pint of beer.

"Oh, that one perfect!" He exclaims.

He stacks his hands on top of the table and leans forward as he further speaks, "Burglaries. Mostly target the elderly. What do you reckon?" He turns to you for opinions.

The alcohol is not quite there yet so you take a longer sip. You feel the alcohol burns your throat and you wince from the bitter aftertaste.

"No?" He asks as he looks at you.

You know he's asking about the human sacrifice, not the alcohol but the answer is the same, "No."

Minho moves on. His eyes are pacing around the room to study people and check their backgrounds with his evil power.

He taps your shoulder as he finds his next candidate, "See that girl with the pints?"

You can easily spot the girl with curly hair, carrying two pints of beer in her hands.

Minho leans in close to your ear to give his intel, "She went on holiday when she was 12 years old and saw her sister drown in a swimming pool."

He suddenly lowers his voice as he tells you the rest of the story, "She could have pulled her out but she just stood there and watched."

Maybe it's true that people are the scariest.

They may look ordinary and good and all yet inside, lies this darkness that they buried deep inside them. If Minho hadn't told you, you would have taken her as a pretty girl with a nice smile and nothing more.

Minho pulls at the sleeve of your shirt and points to another guy, talking to his friend by the pool table. You're about to wave him off again until the guy turns his head and you know who it is.

"How about him? He likes to secretly film girls by drug them and once he—"

"Sent a girl into overdose," you finish his sentence.

Everyone knows who Tim Shaw other than a student in our faculty and more importantly, people know what he likes to do to innocent girls yet no one dares to make him take responsibility for what he did.

Until one night, he drugged a girl and left her on the cold floor of a club, unconscious. There's no evidence that he drugged her or it was he drugged, ended up with him getting dropped off of all charges.

You have one more drink to finish and you gulp it in one go, wanting to use this opportunity to get back for what he did to that poor, innocent girl.

Minho triumphantly smiles, knowing that you have set a target on Tim's head.

"I think we have a contender," he concludes.

Tim is exiting the bar and you take it as an advantage.

You don't need to lure him out, you wait a minute before you follow him outside to not seem conspicuous. Once you're outside, you look side to side to see where Tim is going.

"Perfect location. No witnesses," Minho answers as you both find him turning to the back of the bar.

Tim seems to hear your rushed footsteps and turns around to see you. He seems to be taken aback and you doubt that he'll recognize you. Being crazy has its advantages, you're off the asshole's radar.

You nervously laugh as he looks at you. You quickly think of something to say, "Oh, my God! It's really you, Tim!" You say with fake enthusiasm.

"I'm sorry but who..." he gets all defensive.

"I'm—" You don't know how to explain yourself other than 'the insane one from art school'.

"Oh, wait, you're that girl, the sculptor, the... uh," he brakes before he can say the infamous title of yours.

"The freaky one?" You playfully say.

He bursts into laughter and nods, "Hey, don't get me wrong. I like freaky," he says.

Minho points to the carts of empty bottles and gestures for you to use them instead of the hammer inside your bag that weighs your shoulder the longer you're carrying it.

"I was just getting a drink but it doesn't feel good drinking alone," you lie even though that's how you prefer to enjoy your poison.

"Yeah, I bet," he says with a grin that showcases his whitened teeth and malicious intent.

"How about drinking at my place?" He offers.

"Home turf. Even better," Minho comments, appearing behind you.

You don't want to seem desperate to be with Tim because honestly, you're just stalling to find the perfect opportunity to kill him. It's time to put what you learned from Kim into practice.

"I, uhm..." you rub the back of your neck and shyly smile at him, "I don't think that's..."

As you pretend to consider his offer, he's secretly checking you out. His eyes travel up and down your body, you bet he thinks of lewd things even though you're dressed like a bible salesman with the same outfit you wore to the funeral service.

He takes a step forward and smiles at you, "I live not far from here. You can easily crawl back here if you think I'm a bad drinking partner," he seduces.

Tim must have thought you were as gullible as the other. Oh, he has no idea the surprise you have for him!

"If you don't mind, yeah," you say with a low giggle.

"Okay," he says with a triumphant smile.

His house is indeed only two blocks away from the bar and he keeps boasting about how he owns a house from his inheritance and the rising price of property these days.

"Please, come in!" He lets you into his house.

You step on a crumpled beer can as you enter the living room and are horrified at the amount of trash littering the place.

"A few friends and I watched a football match last night," he concisely explains.

He takes off his jacket and hangs it on the coat rack, "How about we drink in my room?"

You uneasily glance at Minho and he nods. You look back at Tim then put on a fake smile for him, "Yes."

He leads the way up the stairs and you follow him, climbing the steps with the hammer getting heavier and heavier inside your bag.

Tim turns around and sees you being hesitant, "There's no need to be shy now," he says with a lopsided grin.

You respond with a smile, keeping your head tilted up, and continue climbing up the stairs.

"Now!" Minho orders.

"Hit him with the hammer now!" He says again so close to your ear.

Your head snaps in his direction and hisses through your gritted teeth, "Shut the fuck up!"

Tim catches you talking and looks over his shoulder, "What's that?"

"Can't wait to see the bedroom!" You lie and add a giggle to sound convincing.

He smirks at you before pushing the door to his bedroom, "Come on in!"

His room is less messy than his living room in which he helplessly tries to make it seem tidy by flattening the pile of his duvet.

"You can sit down here," he says, patting the space next to him on the bed.

"You're not really going to have sex with him, are you?" Minho asks as he quietly watches you from across the bed.

A deadly glare is enough to answer him and he immediately refrains from pressuring you.

"I was just checking," he adds.

It's when you're in his bedroom that you start to fear Tim, not when you know what he is capable of. But at the same time, it fuels your hate fire, it reminds you of the reason why you need to eliminate scum like him.

"You keep your alcohol in your room?" You ask.

It's obvious that he took you here for different intention. He's taking you here for the sole reason that is to ruin your life.

"Oh, yeah, the drinks," he smacks his lips together and awkwardly paces in the room.

He reaches for the portable speaker on top of his dresser and turns it on, "You can wait for the drinks while listening to music," he says.

You nod, "That sounds nice!"

He gets out of his bedroom and heads back downstairs. While he's doing what you believe is spiking your drink with substance, you think of a plan on how you're going to kill him.

First, you take the hammer out of your bag and practice your swing. You get panicked with each second passed and haven't found a way to catch him off guard.

The footsteps on the stairs signal you that he's on his way here. You decide to do the classic way by hiding in the back of the door, planning to strike him from behind.

You see his figure entering the room, carrying two glasses of drinks in his hands, "It's your lucky day because I found a bottle of—"

Without thinking, you swing your hammer hard and hit him right on the side of the head. It's a weak blow and you can see that from how he's staggering backward, still conscious.

There's no turning back now that you have done it. You come charging at him, attacking him while he's still disoriented from the first blow.

He collapses onto the bed and not giving him time to recover, you keep hitting his head with the hammer with blood splattering the bed and wall with every swing of the hammer going onto his head.

You whimper as blood gets on your face and see that Tim is lying cold on the bed, dead. However, you land another blow just to make sure you've done it and leave no room for mistakes.

"You're good, you're good," Minho says from across the room.

That's when you stop and take a step back. It feels like your soul has left your body, you suddenly feel drained and the hammer drops onto the floor.

You look at the mess you made, the bloody mess and dead body, your life that is once far from all of it. Your throat suddenly closes up and you find it hard to breathe.

After a moment, Minho gets to your side to say, "You can't have that lying around," he's eyeing the bloody hammer lying on the floor.

With your mouth gaping for air, you bend down to pick it up and shove it back into your bag.

"Cleans anything you touched," Minho instructed.

You take a handkerchief from inside your jacket and use it to wipe surfaces you probably made contact with even though you're sure there aren't any.

You leave the bedroom after wiping the handle of the door and make a turn to the stairs when you hear the front door creak open.

You peek from the top of the stairs and someone is turning the lights in the kitchen.

"Get out before he sees you," Minho whispers.

It's bad when he needs to whisper like that even though no one can hear or see him, but you. The adrenaline is still pumping and you make the most of it by bracing yourself to make a run down the stairs and to the front door that is only a few meters away.

You take a deep breath before quietly descending the stairs without making any noise. You can feel your heart beating in your ear yet you keep going as the door is only a reach away.

You successfully land on the base of the stairs when your bag accidentally hits a flower pot, sending it breaking into pieces on the floor.

"Tim?" The man calls.

He looks at you with confusion drawn on his face, "Who are you?"

It's too late for you to break into a run as he sees your face and officially makes him an eyewitness. You can't leave an eyewitness, at least, not until you've done all three human sacrifices.

Is it necessary to kill him though?

You can think and consider as much as you want but it all comes down to the one question: kill or end the world?

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autistichalsin · 8 months

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*INHALES*

I don't like when people say Halsin is a "generic nice guy" or a "generic hippy type" actually!!!!!!!

Kindness isn't generic! Especially not in the face of trauma! It is fucking hard to be kind in a world that doesn't particularly reward kindness! It is REALLY FUCKING HARD to go through victimization like Halsin faced, rape and imprisonment and war and torture- and still come out of it with a big, selfless, caring heart! It is brave to be abused and then decide to be better, to make the world a warmer, kinder place in any way you can, and in fact to be so devoted to doing so that any shortcoming will devastate you!

Halsin ISN'T just a nice guy, actually! He is a sufferer of trauma, of PTSD and survivor's guilt and loss, who still wants to take care of unloved orphans. Who, in fact, sees their plight when everyone else, even his fellow Druid Jaheira is busy fighting the Absolute. Who wants to protect animals, and the environment itself, and everyone else without a voice, because it is the right thing to do, even if his past has been filled with people who had no interest in doing the right thing to him.

Kindness isn't boring!!!! People take being kind for granted because it's what you're "supposed" to do. And, yeah, of course you're supposed to be kind. But if you go outside and take a look, you'll discover that a lot of people stop doing what they're supposed to do the instant they can do so without consequence. Look how people treat service workers. Look at the rates of child abuse. Halsin says himself, a society should be judged on how it treats its most vulnerable- because a fair number of people who act 'good' are actually waiting for the right person to bully.

Halsin was raped and imprisoned for three years. He lost his entire family. His first childhood friend was cursed. He watched his companions die after a bloody battle and then had to abandon the victims of the curse to rescue the survivors who could make it themselves. He was forced into a leadership position he never wanted. Then, while trying to solve two problems, ceremorphosis and the shadow curse, he was imprisoned again and tortured. And that's just at the start of his part in the game, that's leaving out traumas that can happen to him in branching storylines like if he's Orin's prisoner, or if the Rite of Thorns is completed and he's locked out of his home forever.

It takes a lot of strength to go through that and not give in to misanthropy and cynicism. Yet if the player is an asshole and calls him naive, Halsin says outright- "I outgrew cynicism around the age of 200." And THAT is even MORE difficult than being nice in the face of trauma. WAY harder. Still believing in better after you've been hurt, victimized, abused? Still being able to trust others not to hurt you? It ain't easy, friends.

But Halsin does it. No matter what he goes through, he doesn't stop being kind and he doesn't stop believing that a better world is possible, and that he CAN make the world better, and that he SHOULD make the world better.

There's nothing generic or boring about that. It's a beautiful, moving trait. Maybe it won't resonate with everyone, and that's okay, this post isn't me saying you're "wrong" if Halsin doesn't resonate with you in any way! But he's not boring. He's not generic.

It's just that by definition, what makes him so special is so understated, so hard to understand unless you've had a certain experience, that it's really easy to miss the beauty of it entirely.

#halsin #bg3 #baldurs gate 3

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zuhuan · 7 months

Text

Jujutsu Kaisen men x S/O on their period

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Megumi Fushiguro, Choso Kamo

Summary: Your beloved helps with your period.

Genre: fluff, comfort (!mentions of blood!nausea!)

COMMISIONS -> open

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Gojo Satoru:

• It's only natural that your period came at the worst possible time. You are at school until late this afternoon and you even have club activities after classes. You wrote to Gojo that you had your period. He responded like "Oh, thank God."

• You yelled at him for not showing empathy, but then he took matters into his own hands. He knew how much you were suffering at this time, so he asked you out of Jujutsu High School and you went home. On the way home, he went to the nearby convenience store to buy some snack, pads and all the necessary things. Your boyfriend doesn't care that other people think it's weird that he has to buy feminine hygiene products.

• He use his warm hands instead of the heating pad. He would gently pull you close, wrap his arms around you and caress you.

• Gojo takes advantage of the fact that you want to cuddle and just lie down all day, but if you ask for anything, he will help you immediately.

• "Fuuckk... I'm in so much pain... everything hurts." He would ask if you would like to take the medicine. With a glass of water and the medicine in hand, he would kneel beside you by the bed and help you swallow the medicine.

• After you take it, he will lie down next to you and let you fall asleep in a position that is comfortable for you while caressing your face and back. "Rest my love." And he kisses you.

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Nanami Kento:

• Knows in advance when your period will come, keeps a calendar about it and monitors whether everything is in order.

• He is the type of- "Angel, your period is coming soon, do you have everything you need?" (omg I need a man like him)

• If you don't feel like eating, or you can't because you're feeling nauseous, he won't force you to eat, but he'll still cook you heavenly delicious food in case you feel hungry later.

• If you accidentally get your period in your sleep and he wake up first in the morning and find blood on your bedclothes and panties, he tries to wake you up and lead you out of the room so that you don't notice. He knows how uncomfortable you feel at this time.

• Nanami isn't a huge fan of physical touch, but he puts it aside and hugs and kisses you. He would be more attentive to you and call you cute names much more during this time (which of course pleases both him and you). On such names as "My precious, My little bunny, My only love."

• He would definitely ask if everything is okay down there and if there was anything unusual.

• You will be in very good hands with him and you will be completely pampered.

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Megumi Fushiguro:

• Megumi is already very skilled at this. He learned all this on his own just for you. He also keeps track of when your period will come and when it should end in a calendar. He handles your mood swings well and always tries to cheer you up depending on the situation.

• When he sees that you are suffering a lot, he slowly sits down next to you, asking if he can do something for you. You shake your head and turn away from him. "Honey I want to help you." Megumi's face starts to fill with worry and he hugs you from behind. He would gently kiss your temples and neck while you feel his warm breath and the feeling runs down your spine.

• It is not awkward for him to talk to you about whether everything is fine with your period.

• He would cook you your favorite kind of instant noodles (because he knows you love it) and you would eat it snuggled up on the sofa. He always makes sure you stay hydrated and eat enough. He will only let you take the medicine if you have eaten before! If you manage to fall asleep, he will carry you to your shared bedroom on tiptoe and cover you with many blankets so you don't get cold.

• Before getting into bed next to you, Megumi prepares the heating pad and carefully places it next to your stomach and his hands on it so as not to wake you up.

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Choso Kamo:

• He knows blood well, so he can perfectly sense when your period is coming. But he is not a great expert in the biological process itself. He is trying his best to help you through this period.

• He would make you hot tea and a few bites of food. You told him earlier that you are very nauseous, so he is afraid that if you eat too much you might throw up. Well, you didn't even have to eat a bite and you already ran to the toilet because you had to throw up. Choso wouldn't be scared of the situation, he would be there by your side stroking your back and holding your hair back. He would calm you down with kind words. "You're good my love, don't worry I'm here for you. I love you." After you were done, he helped you clean up.

• You would feel like a baby (here you can see what a good father he would be).

• He would ease your pain by caressing your whole body while holding you in his warm and comfortable arms until you fall asleep.

• If it were so difficult for you to move that you couldn't even clean yourself, he wouldn't let you, especially during this period. Your boyfriend would help you undress and get into the tub and give you a nice massage while he bathes you (nothing dirty).

• He would let you hang on him like a little koala. He would caress your face and then kiss you and try to distract you from your pain. He is the perfect companion in such a situation. Let's protect this man at all costs!

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blue-devil-of-the-lord · 17 days

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Hi hi! The blue man deserves more attention. It's criminal how much I adore him. Anyways— Kurt x Reader(97' works fine but whatever you prefer)

Reader is a mutant with abilities that make her cold to the touch. So she wears gloves and sweaters and avoids touching people so they won't be uncomfortable. But oh the blue man won't just have that since it's obvious reader is touch starved. I mean, this man does not hesitate hugging Rogue. A bit of fluff, cuddles? Maybe a love confession from Kurt, like the definition of "your beauty never ever scared me" on both ends. I don't know anymore I'm rambling at this point

Chilled to the soul

Kurt Wagner x fem!reader Words: 1.2K A/N: The way I desperately need a hug from that man

It was a cold evening. She sat by the window, her gloved hands wrapped around a mug, looking out at the starry sky with sad eyes. Her legs were pulled up, almost disappearing under the long, thick sweater, which he knew she didn't need because her mutation didn't allow her to perceive or suffer from temperature differences.

Kurt hated having to see her like this. He knew she only wore those sweaters and damn gloves so that others wouldn't feel uncomfortable and she didn't like them herself, but she put up with it. He had watched her in silence for the last few months and years, but he had reached a point where he couldn't stand it any longer.

On quiet soles, he walked across the room toward her and settled across from her on the windowsill as his tail whipped slowly back and forth. "Are you all right, my dear?" She looked over at him and smiled, though he could see the slight glimmer her eyes held: tears. "I..." she wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

"It's nothing. It really is. I'm just a little..." Her voice broke off and she took a deep breath to regain her composure. Carefully, his tail wrapped around her cup and lifted it from her hands to set it on the floor. With her eyebrows drawn together, she looked at him. "Kurt, what-?"

"Shhh," he murmured, taking her hands in his. Carefully, he began to pull on her gloves, whereupon she pulled her hands away, her fingers trembling slightly. "You don't want that." He looked up. "I know what I want. The question is whether you want it. If you don't, I won't."

Her eyes were wide and still glistening, but this time not with tears and hesitantly, very slowly, she put her hands back in his. He smiled and the tip of his tail ran over her calf. "Thank you." Tenderly, he plucked first one, then the other from her hands and placed them carefully beside him on the windowsill.

Then he held out his hands and waited. Kurt wouldn't force her, he knew how touch-sensitive she was and he would give her the time she needed.

Her eyes fluttered back and forth between his hands and his face and he could clearly see the doubt in them, but just smiled. "It's okay. As soon as you're ready."

She swallowed audibly, but nodded and stared at her hands as if she couldn't believe they were hers. Then she took a deep breath and gently ran one of her fingers over his bare palm.

The cold automatically spread through his body and he suppressed the urge to shiver, but she seemed to have noticed because she immediately withdrew her hand. "You're feeling uncomfortable, I'm so terribly sorry."

She reached for the gloves, seemingly with the prospect of leaving, however Kurt's tail wrapped around her wrist, intent on catching her by the fabric of the sweater, and she paused.

"Please don't. It's not unpleasant," he whispered, leaning forward slightly, his hands still outstretched. "It was just a little unfamiliar."

She looked at him and he could see the despair and at the same time rising hope in her gaze.

"I don't know Kurt..."

"Please." Her gaze traveled over his face and for a moment he feared she would refuse his request - which he would respect. But then she sighed and turned back to him. Slowly, her fingers approached his palm and this time he didn't flinch when her skin touched his. She was careful, her touch no more than a breath at first, but she became bolder the longer he let her do it and began to let several fingers dance across his palm at once.

His eyes never left her face and when she finally released hers from his hands and looked at him, she nodded slightly. That was all the invitation he needed.

Quickly, almost greedily, as if he had been waiting for this for ages, he closed his hands around hers and, after some difficulty, intertwined their fingers.

Her fingertips tapped against the back of his hand and he couldn't help but smile broadly at her, even as the cold spread through his body. It wasn't too strong, bearable, and clearly worth it if he could see her wondering, hopeful, craving look in return.

Tears gathered in her eyes and slowly began to run down her cheek. "Shhhh, it's okay," he murmured, carefully putting his arms around her, close enough for her to feel him, yet far enough away should she want to pull away. For a few moments she was frozen in his arms and Kurt wondered if he had gone too far, but she sobbed quietly and wrapped her arms around his middle.

She tucked her head under his chin and buried her face in his top as she clung to him like a drowning woman. Kurt smiled slightly and pressed his hand lightly against the back of her head, burying his fingers in her hair. He didn't know how long she had been in his arms, but he really didn't care. His heart was pounding in his chest, but this wasn't for him, it was for her.

It took a while for her to detach herself, but even then she only left his arms enough to look at him. Her cheeks were puffy from crying and her eyes were red, but she was beaming from the bottom of her heart and Kurt couldn't help but think that she had never been more beautiful. "Thank you, Kurt." Her voice hoarse and low. Despite its softness, he heard her perfectly. "Thank you for not shying away from touching me."

"How could I?" His voice was soft and gentle and he carefully ran a finger over her cheek to wipe away a tear. By now, he barely registered the cold. "You are beautiful, my love." His next move was a little forward, but he couldn't stop himself. He hungered for her touch and after tasting it, he was sure he would never get enough.

Kurt leaned in, but paused when his lips were just mere millimeters from hers. As much as he craved it, he was a gentleman. If she didn't want it, he wouldn't hold it against her.

She looked up at him in surprise for a moment, her eyes wide and searching his. Then, as if making a silent decision, she closed her eyes and leaned forward, closing the distance for good.

Kurt had the feeling that he had arrived in heaven. Her lips were cold, but so incredibly soft and tender that he felt like he was melting. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her closer, feeling her body against his. He closed his eyes in pleasure, his head spinning from her closeness and the sensation of her snug against him.

She, in turn, buried her hands in his hair, making it impossible for him to move in any direction other than forward, toward her. Kurt didn’t know why he should complain. The sensation of her fingers entwined in his hair sent shivers down his spine, grounding him in the moment. Every fiber of his being craved her touch, and he felt a profound sense of contentment wash over him.

She may be cold to the touch, but God, she sparked a fire in him that threatened to engulf him and Kurt felt no need to fight back as long as it meant he could stay in her arms.

#kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #kurt wagner #nightcrawler #xmen #x men #xmen 97 #x men 97

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visgrapplinghooks · 9 months

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I think… there's a certain part of the human brain that craves attention when we are suffering. Deep down, we all want people to take care of us when we feel sick. Like when we're kids and our parents would feed us and and dote on us. Especially when your parents were otherwise… not good to you, being ill was the one time you got positive attention and compassion.

With chronic pain and illness, you don't tune out that desire to be doted on and loved in times of suffering. You force yourself to ignore that need because you think it'll never be fulfilled by the people around you. Where's my mom to make me soup when I'm sick or check my temperature? Where's my friends to drop by just to see how I'm doing?

And I think I'm often caught between wanting support from the people around me and not wanting to feel like a burden. Then I avoid reaching out to get support and then feel resentment towards others for not giving me the support and attention I wanted deep down.

I'm not entirely blameless in my social frustrations related to my chronic pain, but I do think there's something to be said about how devastatingly isolating it can feel to be a person with chronic pain/disability/illness and know that you will never get your needs from others fully fulfilled to the extent you want. Learning to find that balance of tempering your expectations, fulfilling your own needs, and communicating to your support system what specifically you need. At least... I hope that's something I can learn as a skill over time.

A stable and proactive social support system is one of the most important things a chronically pained person can have, I think.

#chronic pain #chronic illness #chronically ill #chronically fatigued #chronic disability #disability #disabled #disabilities #actually disabled #chronic pain posting #spoonie #fibromyalgia

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painfulstretch · 2 months

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i wanna pump you full with big heavy multiples and give you birth suppressants until you're uncomfortably overdue. one day i sneak labor inducing pills into your food, three times the amount that's recommended, and take you out into public. the dose i gave you is so high that you speedrun through early labor and dilate faster than you're prepared to handle. it doesn't take long before the first massive head comes barreling through your birth canal and the sheer pressure brings you to your knees. people stare but nobody cares enough to help or even ask if you're okay. i force you to your feet and make you keep walking, even though the contractions are coming faster and stronger by the second. i tell you to keep quiet and not to push. you try to be good for me even though i can see how much you want to drop down and scream those babies out of your tight tiny hole. you understand that i do this because i love you, right? i just love showing you and that big belly of yours off, showing everyone that you belong to me and what we've made together.

we move for two hours, your steps becoming increasingly unsteady and your breathing having turned into panicked panting. by the time we finally arrive home, there’s a huge bulge between your legs - despite your efforts to follow my orders, your body has pushed our baby down on its own.

i lead you to the bed, make you lie down and tell you you're allowed to push. your relief is shortlived because as the head inches ever so slightly forward, forming that famous teardrop shape, i stop its descend with my hand. your hips buck in surprise at the searing pain in your nether region and i use that moment to snap the chestity belt i've been holding, unbeknownst to you, into place around your hips.

i said you're allowed to push, not to birth. you really ought to pay more attention to what i say.

i can't be mad at you for not listening, of course. not when you look this beautiful - face red with exertion and glistening with sweat, writhing helplessly, trying and failing to find a position that relieves some of the agony, sobbing and screaming about how much it hurts, how big it is, begging to let you give birth. i just sit back and enjoy the show.

i let you suffer like that the entire night, watch as you wear yourself out with useless pushes. that baby's not going anywhere, darling, not until i decide it is. it's early morning when i finally do. you've earned the right to give birth, i think. i unlock the chastity belt but by now you're too weak to push properly. one would think your canal would be loose at this point but no, the baby still creeps forward at a torturous slow speed, making you feel every detail of the face. and those shoulders, wow, looks like we have a future quarterback in our family!

you've been in hard labor for almost 20 hours by the time the baby finally slides out of you. you're a sobbing mess but the tears of pain mix with tears of relief.

the next five minutes are nice for you. you hold our baby and even though your nether regions must still burn like hell, you're smiling weakly.

then your belly shrinks again, you wince, i see pure panic and horror flash over your face. i take the baby from you as you abruptly, uncontrollably start to bear down again, contractions hitting you again at full force as our next big baby forces its way through your body. despite the fact it's too huge for you, it's still a bit smaller than its sibling and slides forward quite fast. too fast for my liking. look at that, it's already beginning to crown. no, we can't have that, can we? where would be the fun in that?

you're so caught up in your pain that you don’t even notice me snapping the chastity belt back into place. even as you push fruitlessly, the head bulging grotesquely between your legs with no chance of escape.

don't worry, darling, i'll make sure there's a couple more fun days ahead for you. we have time, and there's still some babies left in that belly of yours.

#labor pain #birth kink #painful birth #difficult birth #prolonged labor

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 2 months

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hii I JUST LOVE YOUR WORK i stay and read them every day tbh, it's my first time requesting so I'm a lil nervous (also english isn't my first language so if i write too tangled things don't mind please) yandere disease has been corrupting my mind lately like this disease has taken over the world and now people are divided in two types: yanderes and darlings. Every darling is forced to stay with their yanderes by their parents and government when they turn 20 , like goverment has been taking care of yanderes too much, there's territories and special occasions where yanderes can meet darlings, if darling tries to escape people are just gonna drag them to their "soulmate" otherwise they think darling are too weak and fragile to protect themselves.

If you're too busy, just ignore this. I also know how hard it is to write. Hope you're doing good💗💗

Your English is perfect ❤️ better than some native speakers' ❤️ I'm sorry this took so long, I hope you enjoy!!

Yandere!Fiance x GN!Reader

There were conspiracy theories as to how it happened.

Populations around the globe had declined dramatically, worrying nearly every country in every continent. The most popular theory online was that to combat the rapidly declining birth rate, one (or more) of the suffering countries conspired to create a new kind of biological warfare; an illness directed at their own people to foster relations. Unfortunately, while half of people were naturally immune to the attack, the other half were affected too much.

It was just a theory. Nothing could be proved. No government wanted to get to the bottom of the "attack" because their economies were booming; who would want to rid people of an illness that drove the rate of divorce to an all time low? It didn't matter if there were a few hiccups along the way.. As long as people were pushing out more babies, governments across the planet were more than happy to just create new laws to keep the death rates minimal ensure happiness amongst couples.

(Reader) prayed on their knees like fanatic, begging any God that may be listening, for years that they could be one of the Lovers instead of a Darling. They were terrified of the idea of becoming someone's Darling; becoming a prisoner to a loving murderer. No matter how perfect each family unit seemed to be, the young adult could see it in their father's eyes, the longing for the outside world, away from their mother. The suffocating love their mother drowned him in; the almost unnoticeable quiver to his smile.. (Reader) wished upon every single star in the sky that they could fall madly in love with someone, just so they didn't have to live through the rose tinted hell their father did.

But every crush they had was normal, none of the guys they thought were cute in highschool awakened some kind instinct in them. Eventually (Reader) turned 19 years old, and found out that they were engaged.

"To who??" (Reader) nearly barfed onto the dinner table. Their parents sat across from them, smiling happily from the good news they had just delivered to their child.

"He went to the same elementary school as you! Isn't that romantic?" Their mother cooed, poking her husband while doing so. "Apparently he's known since forever that you two are soul mates, but he's been too shy until recently to approach the Family Planning Bureau about his feelings~"

(Reader) gripped their thighs under the table while their eyes stung from the blossoming tears. ".. Do I have to meet him?" They asked quietly.

Although the building was painted bright blue and was surrounded by a beautiful, flowery landscape, it felt like a prison with it's tall chain link fencing.

The sorrowful expression on their father's sympathetic face burned into their retina so painfully, that every time they blinked while on the bus to their first meeting with their "fiance" they could still see it. He knew just as well as (Reader) did that there was no escape.

Even the walk towards a private meeting room past other Darlings felt like a death march. (Reader) could only hope that the "electric chair" wouldn't be too painful.

The kind guard opened a door, and a young man they did not recognize sitting inside immediately stood up, his face bright red.

His freckled and bespectacled face was almost hidden by his wavy, unbrushed hair. A smile stretched sweetly across his round cheeks, and (Reader) noticed that his blush went down his neck. "Ah- (Reader)! It's nice to- it's nice to meet you!"

It didn't matter that he was incredibly adorable: (Reader) was determined not to let their guard down.

"You said we went to elementary school together?"

"Yes-"

"-I'm sorry, but I don't remember you." They interrupted him, curt and to the point.

Instead of looking offended, his eyes softened and his smile became (somehow) warmer. "I'm sorry." He motioned to a seat near the table he was just sitting at. "I can explain everything.. if you give me a chance."

Reluctantly, (Reader) sat across from him. It was hard to deny that he was attractive, really being their ideal man, but they continuously bit the inside of their cheek to prevent themselves from feeling any sort of positive emotion. They knew better than to fall into this trap.

"My name is Anthony." His freckles almost disappeared entirely under his blush. "I'm sorry I never had the confidence to approach you.."

"Huh?" The confused teen forgot to hold their tongue. "Isn't it, like, frowned upon to talk to your Darling before registering with the bureau?"

Anthony rubbed his hands together nervously. "I - I really didn't want you to meet me this way.." He sucked in air between his teeth, looking faint. "I.. Do you believe in true love?"

A pang shot through (Reader's) heart. They remembered every time they would chase a crush, yearning for something true and genuine. Reading love stories from the days before the bureau, and wondering if that was what love was really like once upon a time. "No."

He sighed sadly. "I believe.. or at least, I want to believe in true love." Anthony sat straighter, staring into (Reader's) eyes with a shaky confidence. "I should have asked you out when I first met you in the fifth grade. I'm sorry I was too nervous to talk to you back then."

Vibrating adrenaline shook their system as they tried to make sense of what this stranger was saying.

"I wanted to ask you out, and take you on dates, and get to know you like in the old days."

"Why didn't you?"

His head fell slightly, obscuring his face entirely. "I thought that my feelings for you weren't strong enough.."

(Reader) suddenly felt as though they were connected with Anthony on a spiritual level; as though he was the only person in the whole world to understand them. The need for love, conflicting with the fear of not being a Lover, being destined to be labeled as a Darling. "Are you.." (Reader) dropped their voice to a whisper, "are you a lover?"

Sorrow filled Anthony's figure. Shoulders slumped, and back shuddering under his uneven, heavy breaths. "Would you report me if I wasn't?"

It was as if God had finally answered (Reader's) prayers. Their heart was racing; their head felt lighter than a cloud. Stuttering over their words, the young adult had to avert their gaze. "I don't remember you.. but I wouldn't mind getting to know you." Even though they didn't love him, Anthony felt like their one and only chance to fall in love naturally. To not be trapped like their father.

"Then.. I can see you again?"

(Reader) smiled. "Yeah.."

....

The second (Reader) left the room, Anthony's head hit the table with a loud bang.

It felt like he was going to vomit with how excited he was, and he couldn't contain his giggles any longer. Being in the same room as his childhood love was almost too much for him, and he almost ruined everything.

Anthony had worked so hard to make (Reader) love him.

He knew they liked shy, nerdy types, so he morphed into that. Destroying his eye sight so he could wear glasses, growing out his hair so he could always look slightly dishevelled, biting his tongue until it bled to force himself to stay in character.

Tears pooled around his nose on the table. He was smarter than the Lovers that made his precious (Reader) scared to be a Darling.

"I'm so happy..~" Anthony sobbed loudly in the empty room. "Please fall in love with me quickly~ Although, I don't mind waiting on you forever.. I want you to love me now..!"

#yandere #yandere x reader #gn reader #thank you for interacting with me #sorry it took so long #yandere fiance #yandere oc #cw manipulation

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mushies-stories · 9 months

Text

involuntary experiment

Jonathan Crane X F!Reader

Summary: Scarecrow uses a new toxin on himself and the reader, a hero who decided to seek him out alone this time in hope of bringing him down. this is literrlly porn and some plot aha

Wanrings: SMUT 18+, no use of Y/N, dubcon, Drugged, Dom/sub dynamic if you squint, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia, pnv, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral(Mreceiving), fingering(Freceiving) pet names, over stimulation, No use of Y/N, over all soft Crane? Squirting, mild science experimentation, claiming? Kinda… I think that's it XD

word count: 4564

You had been after Scarecrow for a while now but his dumb little henchmen always seem to buy him just enough time to pull some kind of toxin out, forcing you to retreat or suffer in fear. So you figured this time you would catch him off guard, you knew who he really was and his face wasn't a secret unlike yours.

Follow him after his deal with some other low life, remember that low life, then follow him back to whatever hole he thrived in. easy.

It really was easy. You followed him down to the basement of some abandoned building on the out-skirts of gotham. You waited silently as he unlocked the rusty metal door and slid it open then made your move. In an instant you were kicking him into the room that turned out to be a basic lab. You thought the kick would have knocked him on his ass, instead he stumbled a little and dropped his briefcase but managed to collect himself rather quickly. Quick enough that when you went to attack again he was swinging his body around and stopping your arm from hurling your fist into his jaw.

You were stunned for a moment, surprised that he was even able to block you. His henchmen normally did the heavy lifting. His free hand was reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling something out. Shoving him you freed your arm and backed up. You stayed alert just in case but you knew he wouldn't hit himself with his own toxin. His mask was in the briefcase across the room.

You eyes him as he pulled the canister out, he stared back with a tight smirk. “Oh, you decided to give me a house visit? How special.” He snorted. The liquid in the canister wasn't normal, this one was a pale pink.

“Well I figured it was time to put an end to your madness, Dr. Johnathan Cran.” you said and shrugged.

His smirk grew. “That so? Growing tired of chasing me then?” He took a step closer and straightened up in defense. “You know, I was waiting for an opportunity to try this new toxin out.” he said, shaking the canister with another step and taking his glasses off in the process, placing them in his jacket pocket.

You stepped back, wanting to keep space between you. “That so? How are you gonna do that without your mask?” you said, glancing at the case that sat on the ground between you both. “Because I can bet I'll get to you before you make it to that mask.” you stated, ready for him to make a move.

A low chuckle left the man. His piercing eyes staring into you with no regard to your threat. “See, the thing is.” he began, taking another step. “I don't want the mask this time. I've seen this on people alone, how they suffer alone in their cells at arkham. I want to see what happens when two people are under the influence together.” he said, undoing the cap and tossing the smoking can between you.

Smoke filled the room immediately and during the coughing fit the smoke caused, you watched him. He was clearly affected by the smoke, coughing along with you but stayed perfectly skill in place. You weren't sure why he wasn't making a move. “What is this?” you choked out.

You both slowly composed yourself as the smoke settled and fresh air became available. “It’s an aphrodisiac, laced with a little truth serum.” he said, a grin growing on his face as your eyes winded at his words. “The more sexual desire creeps in, the stronger the effect.” Jonathan said factually.

You shook your head in disbelief. “That's insane.” you said quietly.

He stood straight, cocky. “Perhaps. But tell me this, have you ever thought about how id fuck you? Late at night have you ever thought about how well my cock would stuff your pussy?” His words were sudden, lewd and they had an instant reaction on your body.

You shook the feeling of heat on your face away. “What are you talking about?”

He chuckles and steps closer, leaving only a couple feet of space left. “Does your pussy ache at the thought of me fucking you?” he stepped closer when you didnt flinch back and then closed the gap when you only continued to stare at him in disbelief. The toxin was making you more compliant, more willing to let him be closer to you. A hand came to cup your cheek, the skin there felt like it was on fire from the contact. “Tell me, how do you feel?” his head tilted with an almost knowing grin as he looked down at you.

You blinked slowly, your brain starting to fog up. You wanted to fight back, say something to wipe the smirk off his face but those thoughts swirled with the ones just like he was saying. You had the occasional thought about him, knowing what he looks like helps. It was a few times and everytime you felt disgusted by it, he was a deranged madman who drugged people. You looked up at him with pleading eyes, wanting nothing more than to hide as you felt your body tip more into desire for the criminal in front of you.

“Well? Speak up. Is your pussy getting wet for me right now? Feeling hotter and needier, need me to fuck you all better?” he asked softly, almost caring while his thumb stroked your cheek.

A small whimper escaped past your lips. Every word he spoke awoken a new spark in your brain that killed off all logic and left only a scorching burn of desire between your legs. You nodded slowly. “Y-yes.” you whispered, eyes barely keeping focused on his own that watched you with eyes that must look similar to your own, blown out and full of growing lust.

“Good girl.” He cooed. Stepping away he dropped his hand from your face and nodded once. “Undress, and don't forget to take the mask off.” He ordered.

You hesitated a moment, you started with your shoes but your hands froze before they could move to your shirt. feeling embarrassed now at the order as your brain attempts to wrap itself around what's happening. But he was watching you so intently and the gleam in his eyes was enough to push your brain to move your hands to the button and zipper of your pants and undo them. You slowly slid them down along with your belt and tools with shaky hands and kicked them aside. Then you went for the shirt and tossed them in the forming pile next to you. “Dr. Crane… my head feels…” you tried to express how you felt as your body and mind gave further in, the hesitation leaving you as you exposed yourself to him, now taking your bra off and sliding your panties down and subconsciously rubbing your thighs together.

He smirks at how you now called him by his title “Oh sweet girl, I know.” his hand came back to cradle your cheek, this time thumbing the hem of your mask. “Why don't you take this off as well, clear your head up a bit.” His smile could have been mistaken for sincere. He slid the mask over your head and his smile grew when he saw your full face. “Well, I've been missing out huh?”

Before you could even register just how exposed you were, his lips were on yours. The kiss wasn't harsh but it wasn't gentle, it was needy and hungry. His hands found your hips and pulled you flush against him. You clutched the front of his suit jacket as his lips worked against your own and you could feel just how hard he was with his bulge tightly pressed between your bodies. You couldn't help the small gasp you let out that became an invitation for Jonathan's skilled tongue to work its way into your mouth to further the pleasure. Even a kiss was making your sex pulse. You peered over at the canister at your feet but before those thoughts of the toxic’s involvement could form in your head you were swept away by Jonathan biting your lower lip. All desire to fight was lost and replaced by the need for Johnathan to fuck you untill your pussy was ruined.

When you pulled away with shaky breaths Johnathan didn’t look as composed as he had before. It looked like the aphrodisiac was finally taking its full effect on him as well. He brought both hands up to cup your cheek, forcing you to look up at him. “I want to feel these lips, pretty girl, can you do that?” he asked. You nodded and he let you sink down to your knees. You wasted no time undoing his belt and pants, pulling them down enough to let his cock spring free before you. You couldn't help but rub your thighs together at the sight. You took him in your hands and pumped a few times, causing the man above you to let out a few shaky breaths. Pre cum adorned his cock head and was slowly dripping down his length. “Like it sweet girl?” he asked, looking down at your blown out eyes.

You nodded and leaned in to lick a fat strip along his cock before slipping your lips around the leaky tip and sucking it like a lollipop. I deep groan rumbled through Johnathan. “Been wanting to taste your cock.” you confessed breathlessly before sliding down his cock and hollowing your cheeks around him, immediately starting a slow pop of your head.

Jonathan brought a hand to tangle in your hair, making sure it stays out of his view as you sucked him off. “Fuck baby.” he groaned “iv thought about your mouth on my cock so many times.” you moaned softly around his cock, continuing to suck him, the need to taste him and make him cum driving you to bob your head faster. “Just like that sweet girl, oh fuck just like that.” he leaned his head back, hand lax in your hair as you worked him.

One hand fisted pumping his shaft while the other went to gently grope his balls. You moaned around his cock at the heavy set and squeezed them. Jonathan groaned and gripped your hair. He pushed you down further until you were gagging with the tip of his cock hitting your throat. You struggled around his massive girth and you had to bring both hands up to hold into his pants to keep steady. “Fuck, baby..” he grit out between breathy groans, his seed shooting into the back of your throat. “So good baby, make sure to take all of it.” you struggled to maintain focus while he rutted himself into your mouth. “Fuck this aphrodisiac makes everything so sensitive.” he huffed.

You swallowed and began coughing and gasping for air as soon as he pulled out and released his hold on you to rake through his own hair. Regaining a little brain function you noticed his dick was still hard and still leaking precum. Then you felt the tingling in your core increase and you could feel just how wet you had gotten with hardly any touching. “Dr. Cane… will you fuck me now?” you asked, looking up at him with doe eyes.

His hair was now disheveled and red tinted his cheeks. He brought you up with a hand on your chin while the other traveled to your hips, rubbing circles on the hot flesh with his thumb. “But I wanted to taste your dripping cunt and taste your cum sweet thing.” He said, his eyes showing how much he really was affected by his own desires right now. Letting go of your hip, his hand traveled to run a slender finger through your folds.

You gasped as the sudden stimulation. His fingers continued to work through your folds and soon started teasing your entrance. “Bu-but I want to feel you inside.” you whined out as his fingers pushed into your tight pussy.

He pumped into you a few times before pushing his palm down against your clit, adding to the stimulation and causing your pussy to clench around his digits. “If I can't now then you'll just have to let me after I’ve cleaned you up and the toxin wears off because if i fuck you now im filling you with my cum over and over until I have nothing left to give you.” he voice was low, filled with meaning and truth.

With the mix of his hand fucking your pussy relentless and his dirty words, you were reeling, hanging onto him as your legs began to shake. You tried to nod between soft moans while trying to keep your eyes open, the pleasure starting to feel too good as heat pooled in your stomach.

“Tell me sweet girl, want me to fuck you full of my cum, want to wake up still stuffed and leaking all over?” he said, digging his palm into your cunt. “Use your words, let me hear you.” he said, moving closer to your face as you quickly came undone in his hand.

You nodded faster and let out a shaky breathless moan as his motions of pounding his fingers and grinding his palm into your sex intensified. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you tried to maintain focus on his blown out pupils. “Yes, yes please. Just fu-fuck me Dr. Crane!” you squealed out as your orgasm hit you.

His hand wrapped itself into your hair, bringing you to rest your head against his chest. He let you grind into his hand while you settled from your high.

He listened to your moans dye into soft whimpers as your hips stilled with his fingers still buried in your cunt. “So good baby, you sounded so good for me.” He praised, finally pulling his hand away from your leaky hole. You flinched when he brought his index and middle fingers to your lips. “Open up and taste yourself.” he encouraged. You parted your lips and let him press his slick fingers against your tongue.

You moaned around his fingers as you sucked your own release off of them. Then you looked up at the mad scientist with needy eyes. “Now? Please Dr. Crane? Will you fuck me now?” you asked though you were already pulling his jacket off his shoulders and unbuttoning his shirt. Your brain could only focus on him, your need for him to stuff your pussy.

His eyes softened and he allowed you to tug the shirt off. You began to kiss and bite his exposed flesh along his collarbone and jaw. “Fuck, alright baby. C’mer.” he grunted, picking you up by the thighs and within a few long strides he was laying between your legs on the couch that sat along the back wall. “Gonna be a good girl and take my fat cock?” he asked, rubbing his cock along your folds.

You gasped as he smeared your slick on his cock. “M’ready! Please put it in~” you begged and wrapped your legs around his hips to bring him closer. “Need you so bad, please.”

His cock twitched against your heat. “Fuck, so needy for me.” he smirked and poked your tight hole with the tip of his cock. “Dripping wet and begging for my dick, what a dirty girl.” He teased and slowly sank into you. His hands held your hips in place as he bottomed out and you shook gently under him, legs squeezing his hips. You let out a loud and needy whine as he stretched your pussy open. He stilled inside and came to lean over you, arm next to your head caging you in. “don't worry, I'll take good care of you.” he cooed, rolling his hips into you and smirking at the face of Ah it caused you to make.

You hadnt had sex that felt this good before, his dick felt like it was made for your pussy. When he started a moderate pace to allow you to adjust a moment you could feel the slight curve of his cock. The veins on his cock dragging along your inner walls had you practically mewling under him with how good you felt.

He chuckled and started a faster pace, making sure to bottom out with every thrust. Your pussy was sucking him in and squeezing him just right he could tell he was already close again. His thrust picked up so he pounding into you with precision and where it felt best and you were a moaning mess on his cock. Your hands came to hold his shoulders as he fucked into you. With your head pressed back into the couch cushions you lost yourself in his movements, so good you couldn’t tell that you were building to another orgasm until it was right there and the only warning you gave was a desperate moan and jumbled words.

Johnathan groaned and leaned his head between your shoulder and head, his cock twitched before his hot load filled your gummy walls. “So tight baby, your pussy’s so good baby.” he praised as his hips rocked into you, making sure to fuck his cum deep and keep it there. He leaned up to look at you, a soft smile played at his lips. “Like my cum filling you up?” he asked, stroking some hair away from your face.

You smiled at him. “Feel so good. m’ warm and full.” you admitted. Your legs tugged him closer, not wanting him to pull out, you still felt so needy, you needed more. “Can I have more Dr. Crane?” you asked sweetly.

His smile turned darker, more mischievous. “Oh baby, do you need me to fuck you tell your little pussy is dripping full of my cum?” He rolled his hips again teasingly. You nodded, breath caught in your through with how deep he was, and again his dick was still totally hard. “You were just begging me so well sweet girl, even calling me Dr.Crane like a good girl. You can do that again right?” he smiled and waited as he continued to roll his hips gently, just enough for a little friction.

You nodded and cleared your throat. “Please, need you to fuck me full Dr. Crane.” you rushed out. His words had a way of causing the deepest reaction from you. You needed him so desperately you didn't understand anything but him right now. “Please, I need it.”

“Need it that bad? Tell me whose pussy this is then, tell me baby girl who do you belong to?” his eyes were fixed on yours, his face turned more serious. Your eyes widened at what he was saying, he wanted you to be his and his alone. The implication should have probably frightened you, made you struggle away but it didn't. You wanted him to ruin you, have you in every way. “Well?” he pressed.

“Yours, Dr. Crane.” you said softly and pushed yourself against him with a little whine. “All yours.” you conceded.

With a low groan he slowly began to thrust into you again, pulling back almost completely to fill you up again. “That's it, all mine.” he sank his back into the crook of your neck and littered it with sloppy kisses and the warmth of his tongue and teeth grazing the now new overly sensitive spot on your body. A hand came to roam over your breasts, squeezing one and pinching at your nipple before repeating the actions to the other. You whined and your hands came to tug at his dark hair. He smiled against your jaw before nipping at it. The thought of his marks adorning your chest and neck tomorrow made you feel even warmer.

You held tightly to him now that he was pounding into you with a firm hold on your hips. Your whole body was responding to him perfectly and he just knew exactly where to hit that spot that had your legs shaking and eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Fu-ck, gonna cum!” you managed to squeak out, every thrust taking your breath with it. The only acknowledgement from Johnathan was his free hand snaking up your chest and his hand wrapped itself tightly around your through. He pulled back to look at you as his hips snapped into you faster, his eyes transfixed on watching you come undone under him. Your eyes fluttered to maintain focus on his face as the all too familiar sensation took over. You shook as you felt your release practically poor out of you with how stuffed you were.

“So good, so fucking tight.” he said with a low groans as he thrusted into you, not giving you a moment to catch your breath after your climax. His eyes are fixed where your bodies connect, watching his cock ruin your pussy. “Fucking perfect. My pussy. My girl.” he grunts between thrusts. You held onto him, arms locked around his neck. He fucked into you desperately and he was still hitting you so deep you couldn't help the lewd sounds coming from you. Your sweet little whimpers and moans encouraging him to fuck you faster. He grinned down at your fucked out face, tears streaming down your cheeks as your body became sweetly overstimulated. He could feel and hear your slick coating your lower bodies.

It was becoming overwhelming for you, his cock hitting the right spots over and over without stopping while his ships slammed into you. “To much! Too–aahh much please!” you begged for release, still to cling to him.

“Sshhh baby you can do it, give me one more. Squeeze my cock like that one more time.” he encouraged through low groans. He brought the hand down between your bodies to run fast circles on your clit. “You can do it, cum again for me. Such a pretty thing when you cum.” The sounds of your fluids mixing filled the room along with breathy moans and gasps from the both of you.

You cried out a moan and screwed your eyes shut. He was going to force another orgasim from your abused cunt and there was no stopping him, you could feel your stomach tighten and pussy flutter uncountably around his girth. “Fuck! Please ple-” you groaned out as another orgasm shook through your body, your pussy spasming around his cock as he continued to stroke your sweet spot through your climax. You felt his cock shoot another full load of his hot cum deep into your waiting pussy.

“Good girl.” he cooed, slowing his relentless pounding as your pussy pulsed around his cock. “So good baby, you did so well, are you ready for your treat?” he asked and you nodded, your chest heaving as you looked up at him and his still hard cock twitched at the sight of tears pricking the corners of your eyes. He smirked at the thought of you being so overly stimulated and crying for him. Then with you still impaled on his throbbing cock, he wrapped his arms around your back and brought you to sit on his lap with his legs now firm on the ground.

Your back arched and you let out a strangled moan as he managed to sink just a little further into you. You could feel his cum leaking from your spent hole and down his dick, your mixed fluids soon began drenching his pants as he bounced you on his cock. “Dr. Crane, so much cu-um.” you whimpered, trying to hold yourself up with shaky arms. “So full, there's so much.” you babbled out between moans. You were cock drunk and it was evident as your eyes streamed with tears

Johnathan couldn't blame you however, he was right there with you, your pussy was constantly clenching around him like you were always on the verge of another orgasm. “You can handle a little more right? I mean look how much has already spilled out?” he said, gazing down at where your bodies connected. You followed his eyes and the sight alone sent a shiver through you. Slick and cum oozed around the base of his cock with every thrust into you. “Your pussy feels so good Babygirl, squeezing me so tight. Do you want to cum again?” he asked, bringing a hand down to rub against your overly sensitive clit as his hips rutted up against your own.

You whined and your arms folded in on you, no longer able to hold yourself up. You were so tired but he felt too good, your pussy responded so well to his touch you couldn’t help when another orgasm began to wind itself up. “To mu-uch, feels weird Dr. Crane” you practically screeched into his chest and blinked away tears that threatened to fall.

His hips continued to hit your tender bundle of nerves while his hands simultaneously slammed you down into his cock and abused your throbbing clit. “Good, that's it, let it feel good and make a mess for me.” he encouraged, feeling his own release creeping up. His words relaxed you and you soon felt the wave slam into you within seconds. Your body tensed and your legs shook around him as you self liquid drench his lower stomach and under your bodies. You cried into his chest, tears now rolling down your cheeks. “Fu-cuk, that's it. Squeezing me so well to take my fat load.” He groaned, leaning his forehead against your shoulder and rutting into you as he emptied his balls into your sloppy hole.

You pulled back and looked at him, eyes tired and pussy still fluttering around him. Your mind and body were so tired but your pussy shuddered at the thought of him pulling out. “Can we stay like this?” you asked hopefully.

He smiled softly at you and brought his hands to cradle you upper and lower back. He leaned back more and pulled you to lay on his chest. “Don't worry sweet girl, I got you.” he coles while stroking your back and gently rocking his hips up.

you whined softly against him. “Some toxin, you can keep coming after all of that.” you noted, almost frightened since your pussy was pusling and raw some rought he was already fucking you.

He chuckled and rolled his hips gently again, starting a steady rhythm that was actually relaxing and had you curling into you as your eyes fluttered shut. “I know, and thankfully I have you to take it all for me, I did say I’d give you everything.” he held you firmly against him, his hips picking up speed but staying gentle and as calming as he can manage. “I'll take good care of you.” he whispered into your ear. You sighed and gave in, relaxing fully into him as he used your pussy to get off again. You didn’t want to fight it, even this, being a ragdoll for him to fuck into was wonderful.

To say the mess you woke up to was almost alarming. you, laying on his chest with his soft cock still buried in you with mixed fluids still soaking your bodies.

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