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bimbosandbubbles · 1 year

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❀⤷Summer Frights!

Summertime Slashers m.list here

Starring Yandere Ghostface Josuke and Okuyasu

Synopsis-Your anxiety raises high when there’s been a slew of murders around your small town,rumored to be a copycat Ghostface terrorizing the town. Soon though your anxiety raises even higher when one night the Ghostface gives you a call around midnight.

Warning’s-murder,descriptive gore,dub con,non con,phone sex,multiple sex scenes,knife play,anxiety,heavy degrading,vulgar words,breeding,double penetration(oral and vaginal), mask kink,praising,pet names,unhealthy obsessive behavior,photos taken without consent,video taken without verbal consent, pussy eating, bondage,blood,biting,yandere,dacryphilia,humiliation,fear play,mentions of boxing Okuyasu and Med student Josuke.NOT PROOFREAD

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ AND UP! MINORS DONT INTERACT!

Word count-10.8k/10,891(First fic and I went overboard)

A shaky breath falls from your lips, a apparent sign of the inner turmoil you feel inside. You thought that this wouldn't happen anymore..That this couldn't happen in your city. That the ever looming presence of death couldn't haunt you so early into your life..you're only a freshman college student,barely graduated from a small high school in Morioh. Why here? Why peaceful little Morioh? Why did a dumb copy cat of a serial kill have to terrorize this quaint town?

And why did you let the thought of Ghostface morning haunt your nightmares? They were everywhere! In the morning when you woke up,they were your very first thought. When you showered,you constantly wondered if they would be stalking from behind the curtains,waiting to mangle and mane your soft body. When you walked from class, you imagined the killer in black being anyone.

Like this very moment right now. You imagine the seemingly kind house wife who just waved at you secretly using one her kitchen knives to kill the poor victim you read about in a news article posted a mere week ago. A victim you considered an acquaintance before his untimely death. You had known him from high school simply because he did something completely unexpected to someone who looks like you. He had confessed,poured out his pure and untainted feelings for you. However,you didn't feel the same and gently rejected him,making sure to still encourage him to stay sweet like the way he was. Over the years the two of you only shared small hello's or encouragements for the future.

But now..he had no more future. For,he was dead,mutilated and found with ripped pages of fat fetish pornos in his emptied stomach that was bare of any bodily organ. The thought of his suffering throughout the ordeal made your skin crawl in fear. Was he screaming for help? Was he begging anyone from the closest proximity to stop his death? Most of all,did he plead for the killers not to hurt him,to spare him?

And because of those bothersome thoughts you couldn't help but think that anyone is guilty for such a sick crime. Every step you take,you look around your once peaceful route to home,wondering if one of these seemingly normal people murdered someone without remorse. The houses you once stared at in calmness and familiarity were now morphed into murder houses. Houses,owned by killers that could be waiting to torture their next victim in utter bloodlust. Nowhere and no one were considered safe to anymore.

You grip your book bag tighter to your shoulder,holding the cool leather material closer to your side. The baby blue sundress you're adorning being softly tugged by refreshing summer wind. The sensation being a reliever to your anxiety induced sweat. Which reminds you that it's really summer now. That you should be happy because you just left your last class of the semester and that you won't have to worry about class for three whole months. However,despite the beautiful sun beaming down at you paired with the perfect breeze you can't help but feel so gloomy inside. How could anyone be happy when someone was just murdered only a week ago? How could anyone be happy when your acquaintance was already the 5th victim of a copy cat serial killer?

Immediately your morbid thoughts are shooed away by a loud booming voice. "Oi,(Reader)! How can ya leave without saying goodbye?" You snap your head back,not being able to fight how a toothy smile once you see your goofy friend. " 'Yasu,I'm sorry! I was in a rush!" Your once eager feet stopped walking to allow the male to catch up with you. Though it's not like he needed you to stop,the man is fit,years of working out and boxing shaping his athletic body. Just as soon as he called out from a distance he's already stooped next you.

"So you were in a rush?" His raspy voice asks. "Mhm I was,I'm just kinda pent and wound up from school and.." You don't have the heart to finish what you were gonna say. But it doesn't seem like you need to because Okuyasu finishes it for you,"The murders." You find Okuyasu's bluntness is nice,because at least something is straightforward to you in this mystery of a murderer or murderers.

"Yeah. It's been kinda umm..scary for me at least." Okuyasu nods as he puts his long muscled arm around your meaty shoulder. "They got me feeling on the fence a little too,especially that last guy. I mean porno mags stuffed in there? Plus them being that weird feeding shit,the guy must've been a real sick pervert." Okuyasu says nonchalantly,as he massages the flesh on right shoulder.

You can't help but think that that's why he had confessed to you before. Because you were a fetish to him,something he got off to and that's it. Now that Okuyasu pointed that out to you can't help but feel a little less empathetic towards the victim now. Disgusting. "Yeah,that's weird." You dryly add. "But umm what'd you chase after me for? I know you didn't just come here to scold me for leaving so soon." Okuyasu's eye's widen like he's barely recalled something. "Right! Umm Josuke and I wanted to invite to a little party at the beach! It'll only be us and a few other friends."

At that,your smile slightly falters. The thought of going to a party with a serial killer on the loose scared you. "Umm Yasu I'm not sure..I just wanna stay home at the moment." Okuyasu already looks at you with pleading black eyes,"C'mon (Reader), we haven't hanged out in forever. Josuke gets ya all the time cause he goes to a stupid university with ya. So please,won't ya just go with us?"

You chuckle," 'Yasu the boxing gym is right by the university,I always talk to you for like 15 minutes a day before and after class." He whines,"But today ya didn't say goodbye,Josuke got you forgetting all about me. That's why you gotta go to this party!" You find his needy behavior cute—almost endearing so you humor him. "Hmm..maybe I'll go. But if I don't go then why don't you and Josuke come over after the party? Just knock on the door and I'll let you in." Okuyasu pouts before speaking,"But what if ya’re sleepin?" You smile at him as you touch the hand he has resting on your shoulder," I won't be,trust me." Technically your promise wasn't empty,ever since the murders you've been having a hard time sleeping.

"Got ya! That sounds good. But I gotta go Josuke's waiting for me with his fancy ass car." He moves his hand to let go of your shoulder but he's met with your pudgy hand gripping it to your flesh harder. "Wait,can you walk me home please Yasu? I feel safer with you around." It's true,the man's positive energy managed to make you briefly forget your dark thoughts earlier.

He stares at you in thought,looking at your needy expression. It's almost like he visibly melted at your words and expression. "Yeah I'll getcha home! Lemme just call Josuke so he knows." Okuyasu pulls out his cracked phone and quickly calls Josuke,"Yo bro,(Reader) wants me to walk her home so just pick me up in the front of her house. Alright bye." He stuffs his phone back into his pocket and tightens his arm he has draped over you.

"Thanks 'Yasu." You kindly remark. " 'Course gotta keep my girl safe." You brush off the usage of "my girl" due to the fact that Josuke and him use it only in reference of how protective they are of you cause of the years long friendship the three of you share. At least that's what you think,right? It couldn't be used romantically,not when Okuyasu and Josuke got new girls on their arms most of the time. However the thought of being Okuyasu's or Josuke's girl..or both is something you find yourself frequently fantasizing about. But that's just silly,dreamful thinking.

The two of you start walking and talking. Conversation flows easily with Okuyasu,it always does. It does too with Josuke but Okuyasu somehow always eases you. He's your comforter,he always has been.

"Welp this is my stop." Okuyasu's voice says. You nod sadly,not wanting to say goodbye so soon to your living comfort. " 'Suke's not here yet,why don't you come inside until he shows up?" Okuyasu doesn't even think before he exclaims,"Yes!" You giggle at his enthusiasm,unlocking the door as you do so.

You enter and Okuyasu does the same behind you,making sure to close and lock the door.

"So are you hungry?" He smiles widely,"I always am!" You smile,"Yes you are! I got some spaghetti and meatballs if that's what you want."

"Yes, I love Italian food! I'll eat whatever you got left if ya let me!" You scrunch your brows in mock thought,"Okay,I'll let you have the whole container." He makes a noise of celebration as he follows you to the kitchen.

The pair of you walk into the kitchen smiling and chuckling, though your happy demeanor falters once you see the sink filled to the brim with dishes. " 'Yasu you can get the food from the fridge,I got to work on the dishes." Okuyasu nods with no hesitation as he rushes to the fridge. You grab an apron that Okuyasu had given you for a birthday years ago with a cringy motto that reads,"A dolla will make ya holla!"

Once he find the spaghetti he puts it in the microwave and he smiles gleefully once he sees you putting the apron on to wash the dishes. "Ya still kept that old thing?" You nod,"Yeah,it's my favorite." You don't miss the small blush that paints his cheeks when you remark that it's your favorite. "Good,it looks great on ya." You smile and turn to make soapy water for the seemingly never ending pile of dishes you had to wash.

Okuyasu’s food is finished in the microwave the moment the beep is heard. He grabs his food and sits down on a chair by the island. You turn your back to him once the water is done and start washing dishes. "Do ya normally wear a apron when ya do the dishes?" You answer back,"No,just when I'm wearing something like a dress or something I like a lot." He hums in thought before you hear him messily slurp and devour the spaghetti.

He swallows before hitting you with another question,"So where are your parents? They're usually home by now." You scrub off a nasty dish while replying,"Umm well I kinda own the house now. Since the beginning of summer,they left and said I had the house to myself. I don't think they'll be back for a few more months. They said that since I'm a college student I deserve my own private space and used that as an excuse to finally travel,not that I mind of course,they deserve that break."

"So ya're alone for a few months?" Okuyasu asks. "Yeah I am." You confirm once more. "Then me and Josuke should come over more often." He quickly says. "And Koichi and his little girlfriend too." He makes sure to add. "Yeah,I could definitely use the company in that case." You warmly welcome the idea. Not only so you're not experiencing isolation but also so you won't make yourself a easy target for the killer.

There's a few minutes of silence—comfortable minutes ,one's where you just hear clanging of the dishes occasionally and your dear friend excitedly devouring the food you've made. You've grown so accustomed to the silence that you can't stop the shocked gasp that falls from your lips once you feel a big calloused hand placed on your wide waist. "That was yummy,thank ya (Reader)." He doesn't bother to move his heavy hand once he hears the little gasp instead he tightens his grasp on your squishy waist.

"O-Oh you're welcome 'Yasu. It's a thank you for walking me home." He smiles,"No need to thank me. Like I said I gotta take care of my girl." He emphasizes his words when starts tracing small circles onto the cotton fabric of your dress. "This is real pretty,"he pinches the material of the dress,"Looks really cute on ya. But you always look real cute." Suddenly nothing else matters,not the dishes,not the fact that Josuke's coming soon,not even the murder that's roaming Morioh,all that matters right now is Okuyasu's touch.

You lean into his touch,"Thanks 'Yasu." Your words come out breathlessly. He hums in acknowledgement,his now two hands becoming his main focus. He squeezes the abundant flesh of your tummy that's hidden by your dress. "Ya're so damn soft." You can't help but let out a small whine at his gentle yet rough actions.

He leans against your back pushing his extremely tall frame against yours,black eyes leering at you. "Thank you 'Yasu." You can't help the awkward and repetitive response,not used to your friend behaving this way with you. Sure,he was flirty with you before but never this upfront with you. His touch advances,inching further up to your slightly exposed cleavage. " 'Y-Yasu.?" You can't help the panicked question. What is he gonna reach for?

"Yeah?" The grumble of his voice sounds erotic,almost like he's turned on right now. "What're you doing?" The question you asked held no malicious harm instead just innocent wonder. That must've snapped out of his daze. "I'm just trynna give ya hug,Josuke's gonna be outside soon so I'm saying a early goodbye." With that his big arms wrap around the whole expanse of your plush middle,his hard rock chest molds against your roll adorned back.

He leans down to give you a wet kiss on your neck,which makes you let out a shocked whine. " 'Yasu!" You exclaimed in embarrassment. "What?" He asks cluelessly. "You can't kiss me without telling me! It's embarrassing!" He smiles,"Yeah? Well Imma kiss you." He kisses your neck again,the attention on your sensitive neck making you giggle.

You slightly push his head away,"Now you know what to do if you wanna kiss me." He hums in acknowledgement. Soon a honk rings out from the front of your house. "Gotta go! Josuke's out front." He let's go of you which leaves you missing his warm touch.

" 'Kay say hi to him for me! See ya later 'Yasu." The male nods and rushes to the front door,the door slamming as he leaves. You leave the kitchen once he's gone to make sure to lock the door. And slowly you trudge back to the kitchen,"Time to do the dishes again."

☠︎

To say the least you were beat after doing the dishes. It's such a easy labor required task however you dread it. But it's not only dirty cups or plates draining you,it's the constant anxiety you feel deep down. Plus the way Okuyasu was behaving with you was different..It made you question so many things. However,the energy for being thoughtful and curious was sucking up too much from you.

You had to take a nap,just a short one. You just need to catch up with your sleep. You wander to find your phone so you can put it on silent and not be bothered with the outside world right now. Surely,you find it and set it to silent,placing it on the coffee table next to the couch that you plop on.

You lay down and curl up like a baby. Sleep,you tell yourself. Go to sleep. Though you craved a nap,you knew that a nightmare might come to haunt your only escape from reality. You haven't been having them too often but when they came,they'd be terrifying.

You forcibly shut your eyes and just relax. Soon enough you find everything leaving,all that is here is just a dreamless peaceful abyss.

However peace can never last long when death is afoot. You wake up with a start,gasping for air and clenching your poor couch cushions in fear. Eventually though,you're able to calm down. You sit up and reach for your phone to look at the time. The screen glare's at you as your eyes struggle to adapt to the light,"12:00 am. How long was I out for?" As soon as you voice your confusion. You see your phone alert you that a unknown caller is calling. You do what everyone else does when they see an unknown caller alert— decline.

"I'm hungry as hell." You mutter. You get up and stretch,letting out an almost pornagraphic moan. Your attention is taken off stretching the moment you see your phone violently shaking. You roll your eyes in annoyance. Who the hell is this persistent? You grab your phone and instantly your annoyed attitude morphs into one of fear.

Ten texts and multiple missed calls decorate your lock screen. They read threats like,"Answer the phone slut!" Or "I'll fucking murder you if you don't answer right now." Your breathing quickens,"What the hell should I do?" You thought of calling the cops but immediately you think about the original ghost face killings. Ghost face was always near by when he made calls so..that means the killers might be very close to you. But this might be just sick prank call,right?

So you do the not so smart thing and try to survive instead. Hurriedly you call the number and find yourself met with the taunting ring of the phone. Finally,an alarmingly deep voice speaks on the other end of the line. "Imma make this simple for you. Start rubbing your pussy right now."

Your breath takes a pause in your throat. Did you hear that right? "W-What?" You ask. "I said start rubbing your pussy now. Don't be a disobedient slut." For some reason a bit of fear leaves you,being replaced with courage. "No." You state. The voice chuckles,"No? What,now you want to act all brave? I know that you tremble in fear every time you hear about what we’ve done in the news. So don't act all confident with me and just rub your pussy like a good slut."

You gasp in amazed fear. This was—it couldn't

be—Ghostface themselves or himself. The voice chuckles once more at your shocked display. "Aww you're so cute but you're so dumb! That's why I need you to rub your pretty little cunt for me,it's the only thing your little dumb brain can handle."

With a uneven breath you ask,"Do you want me to umm..get naked?" You could hear a smug smile once he replies,"Good girl! You're learning how to please me. Yes,I want you to get naked and I want you right in front of that window you got in front of the coffee table. I want you to have your legs spread completely wide with your back against the table,I wanna see ya just like that,got it?" See you? He could see you? The thought alone makes your blood run cold.

"I expect an answer every time I say something. Do you understand me?" You quickly cough up a small yes. "Good,now hurry up and undress." You couldn't believe you found yourself submitting so easily to a killer—a perverted killer who's getting off to your garnered fear of them. It makes you so angry—so enraged yet you found yourself obeying like some obedient pup all because of fear. Such a coward—such a pussy you are right now. However you can't bring yourself to scold your submissive actions any harder because absolute terror is overruling the anger your feel.

And that's how you find yourself bare of any clothing,nude and vulnerable for the eyes of a sick fuck. Your baby blue dress stays by your feet,a visual reminder of your embarrassing submission . A low groan is heard through the phone , a groan that sounds so lustful it has you curling into yourself. "Fuckkkk,you're so perfect. You're so fucking gorgeous. Spin for me,I want to see all of you." The demand leaves no room for arguments so you shyly—albeit awkwardly you do a little turn hurriedly . "Mmm,my perfect girl. Do another spin for me,slowly this time. I wanna look at what I own."

You obey his command once more,dying of humiliation the longer each turn took. What's worse is you don't know where he's looking from. Is he in the front of the window? Is he in a tree up above? You don't even know if it's just a he,it could be a them—the murderous duo who's now personally terrorizing you. "Good girl,now put the phone on ya table and put me on speaker. Now spread your legs for me like a good girl."

Once again you find yourself obeying him to the exact T. As you bend down to place your back against the table you wonder why he's doing this to you? Why you? Why your town? Why poor little Morioh?

You feel the cool wood make contact with the rolls that adorn your soft back. A little whimper leaving your insanely chapped lips once the cold table touches you. "Mmm,good girl,"he practically purrs,"Now I don't want you to start rubbin just yet. Play with those pretty tits,yeah?" The phasing of his last sentence made you queasy because of the sheer audacity to make that sound like a question when at it's core it's a order. A order that reminds you of your fear.

Your fingers slightly tease your blooming bud—the cool air teasing your nipple away from it's natural softness. It feels nice—good so good that you almost forget why you're doing this. Your other hand squeezes the stretch mark decorated breast on the side closest to your heart. The warm,gentle attention riles out a small moan from your mouth.

The man on phone coos to you,celebrating the obedience he didn't have to fight you on. "You're so gorgeous! So glad you're such a good girl for me and I didn't have to hurt your perfect body! My smart girl knows what's best for her,huh?"

You hum a response,too focused on the task that's melting in your hands. Your breast continues to be meddle with,each massaging motion feeling better than the last.

Somehow his already deep voice reaches a lower octave,"Stop. Start playin with your pussy." Lust oozes from the speaker. Untouched,evil desire is all you heard come out of him at this moment. Is that why he's doing to you? Lust? To own your body with the leash of fear he has snug around your neck? What a sick pervert.

You reach down,inching away from your sweaty chest—touching the wet arousal you're disgusted to have formed. You could call it a natural bodily reaction to the fondling your breasts received but you know—you know that his degrading praise had a hand in the layer of moisture that built up on your pussy.

Your fingers clip onto your aching clit,a rubbing motion starting on from there. Rub,rub,rub, and rub is all you can think about—your pleasure,the promise of cumming is what you deserve for being forced to put on a show for a murderer. "Atta girl,keep rubbin. Your pussy looks so pretty,doll! Fuck,just wanna stuff my face in there. Would ya like me to eat you out,huh,sweet thing?" His words are slightly labored this time,an almost groany tone releasing from his lips.

"Mhm!" Is all you mutter. A short answer,yet just the answer that the serial killer needed to hear. "Yeah? Want me to suck on that fuckin pretty clit? Want me to force my face in between those thick ass thighs? Yeah—shit,wanna have you on my face—don't wanna fuckin breath until you cum all over my face." His groans—oh my god his groans, your could feel your needy cunt clench around nothing. He sounded so good,so wanton,so needy! But you can't enjoy his sounds,not when he's taunting you like this—not when he and his partner murdered five innocent people!

But what if you just let yourself indulge for a second? Just a quick second and then you could go back to quivering in fear. Oh please—oh please just a moment to get pleasure from his desire of you. "Hmmph—Shit all I can think about is your cute ass sittin on ma face. I'll eat your pretty little cunt for days! Fuck—Fuck—put ya fingers inside! Wann' see your pussy stretched out."

You don't question the command—two fingers sink into your clamping hole. A keen frees itself from your gasping throat. Feels so good! Feels so good to have something inside,something to distract your empty pussy. You start making a up and down motion,each movement making contact with your warm sensitive walls.

"Ah—feels good!" You babble. It's embarrassing—demeaning how easily you gave into him—the pleasure he gives has you oh so sensitive. "Yeah,baby? Ya cunt feel good?" You furiously nod your head,knowing that verbal responses weren't the only thing he'd understand. He's watching you after all.

"Shit, you're so good for me! Ma lil slut—my good fuckin cock whore! Fuck—wish I could be in ya instead of your little ass fingers, I could make ya feel so much better—stretch ya out real nice and good,have ya screaming fa' me and scratching my back. Wouldn't I,baby?" You almost choke on your moans when you force out a response. " Y-You would! You'd mmm—make me scream!"

"Shitttt...keep talkin like that,sweet thing. Wanna replace your fingers so fuckin badly now—gonna make sure your little cunt is a cum dump once I'm done with ya! Gonna bred ya and ruin ya for anybody else—shit—fuck yourself harder right now."

You oblige and start reaching — wiggling fingers inching deeper for that wonderfully good spot. You feel so close if only you could find that small mushy spot that would make you see stars.

Almost like he could read your body language perfectly he says,"Ya're close aren't you? Ya gonna cum soon? Fuck—me too! Gonna cum—wanna cum with ya! Shit—need ya to cum now."

Almost like some magic word you find that special spot and a pathetic mewl comes out of your mouth. Your back arches out,the position forcing out your plentiful tummy out even more.

You huff and huff an attempt to catch your lost breath. The man has became silent, any sign of him being present is gone.

The air is only full of the smell of your sex and your constant puffs. Finally, he speaks up again,"Ya did a good job,sweet thing! Call ya tomorrow at the same time." With that he leaves you to sit in silence accompanied by the constant blaring reminder of his quick exit.

Your mouth gapes open,"What the fuck just happened?"

☠︎☠︎

"(Readerrrr), ya there?" Josuke calls out. His concerned diamond blue eyes pour into yours. Your body flinches at the sound of your friend's deep voice. "Y-Yeah,just a little shaken up." You reply. Smoothly Josuke's sleeveless arms round your shoulders and coddles you closer to his chest. "Ya? Did ya have a nightmare before we got here?"

You accept his affection gesture—leaning in and pushing your pudgy cheek into his chiseled pecs. "Why didn't you tell me and Okuyasu,we could've taken care of ya way earlier." Chiding with him,Okuyasu pipes out,"Yeah! You can tell us anythin. We got ya back."

The thought of spilling your guts and telling them whatever happened only an hour ago crosses your mind—it's brief because you realize it's stupid. No way you'd put any of your friends in danger involving the terrorizers of Morioh. That's right—it's only been a hour since the call,only an an hour since you've dirtily indulged into his demands. But no—enjoying it meant they'd win and you can't let them have anymore power over you.

A part of you wonders what if? What if Josuke and Okuyasu came just at the stroke of midnight? Would they have been able to protect you from the murderers? But that what if is a distant reality—the real reality being is that your favorite duo showed up at your doorstep with snacks in hand and bright smiles. Stories of Koichi being forced into a embarrassing bathing suit by Yukako and Rohan screaming Josuke's head off when he buried him in the sand while he was sleeping on beach were exchanged with you.

Stories that kept the air light and distractive until the three of you sat on the couch to watch a movie. The polite custom of staying silent during a movie was driving you crazy,the silence leaving too much space in your head to think about what occurred.

You place a fake smile onto your lips," Thanks you guys but really I'm fine,I promise." To add weight to your adds you further snuggle into Josuke's chest and reach for Okuyasu's mangled hand,to which he gratefully accepts by gripping your hands in a no escape hold. "If ya say so." Okuyasu says. Josuke gives an annoyed look towards the unaware male,one that you've learned means that Okuyasu didn't say the right thing or he said something dumb. "What Okuyasu meant to say is if you want us to stay the night or just stay away longer?"

At first,the instinctual answer was no—strictly because you don't want to cause them too much trouble. Josuke constantly takes you places in his car because you're too fearful of the bus or walking too far away from home. Okuyasu was a already like a guard dog before the murders,but now he constantly wants to stick to you like glue no matter where you go. Of course there's exceptions of this happening like today but majority of the time that's what happens.

However,that first move to say no is gone out the window once they start touching you. Josuke starts thumbing at your back,creating soothing patterns all over the the hot skin. Okuyasu's big veiny hands are twiddling with your fingers like you're some dainty little thing to him. The touches feel good—comforting,making your poor little stressed mind let go.

"Okay." You mumble. "Yeah?" Josuke confirms. "Mhm." You hum into his chest. "Hell yeah! We haven't stayed over in forever!" Okuyasu exclaims. "Are we gonna sleep in your room?" The blunt man asks. Now that he's mentioned it,you're not sure where they should sleep. The suggestion of your room didn't really concern you all that much. After all these are your friends so won't do anything strange,right?

Sure,they are 6'1 and 6'4 men who's body weight mostly consist of pure hard earned muscle but besides that the thought of them sleeping in a room shared with you isn't really intimidating at all. In fact,it comforts you knowing that they're going to be with you in your room. You know you'd have incoming nightmares or a sleepless night ahead caused by that call,so two friends that happen to be men and very attractive are just doing what good friends do.

"Of course, you're gonna sleep in my room,silly! It wouldn't be a sleep over if you weren't." You happily exclaim. "Yeah!" Okuyasu leans over you to give Josuke a type of handshake that you don't even bother to look at. It fills you with glee to see the two of them so ecstatic to be staying with you. However,the feeling of glee doesn't overcome the impending sleepiness you start to feel.

"I think I should start setting up the bed for us." You state. Josuke's brow perks up in a inquisitively,"Us?" A rush of flustered heat floods through your body for the assumption that three of you would share your bed. You feel so comfortable with them it merely slipped out. "Um—I mean it's just cause I have pretty big bed and they'll be plenty of space for you two but I realize how silly that is now. Just forget it I'll

get—

"No,No! That's perfect, me and Oku' won't mind at all. You're our friend after all." You catch many nice things about his interrupting sentence,especially the way his honeyed tongue says "our " with almost a possessive gripe. You brush over it though, no matter how odd it sounded—instead you choose to favor his laxness about sharing a bed with you.

"Uhh well perfect! Let me just set up then and I'll call you two up to bed." You offer a marshmallowey smile before you turn from the pair and walk your way up the stairs—missing the lust glazed stares of your trusted friends directed at your teasing dimpled cheeks peeking out from your loose cotton shorts. If only you could see Josuke and Okuyasu hissing as they adjust the semi's that's grown in their jeans.

You find yourself in your room,adjusting your bed for more room and comfort. You move your stuff animals and overly big pillows,setting it on free spaces throughout the room. That's it,that's all you had to do. Yet,you weren't gonna call them up. Not yet.

You stare down at the baby blue sun dress you took off during the call that you tossed on your floor in a crying haze once the killer hung up. The dress felt like a lingering memory of what happened and what's to come. "Call you tomorrow at the same time." The words ring in your head, a consistent reminder to of your impending doom. You'd be some type of sick sexual outlet for the killer(s). And then what? Once they were done with terrorizing you with calls would they come up from a secret hiding place by your house and tally you off as another victim of theirs? The 6th victim? Or worse would they violate you—ignore your agency—the word no and pleas of reason would mean nothing to them.

And now you're here,being such a coward. Accepting their plans for you like some type of sick puppy. You make yourself sick,the thought of just surrendering makes a deep pool of raging nausea roar from the bottom of your belly. How can you be so—so easily available? You just obeyed whatever he said and when you did stand up to him you just surrendered due to the deep rooted fear of what he and his accomplice could do.

Just how weak willed how are you? Listening to a killer that demanded you to touch yourself and actually doing it! Loving the way he praised you—guiltily indulging into the desperate groans

he howled out for you. And worst of all, actually feeling your heart and clit beat with the promise of this repeating tomorrow. How sick you are.

You swallow a wad of contempt mixed with saliva before your tongue sticks out to wet your flaky lips. You call out," 'Sukeeee! 'Yasu!! You can come up now!" They heard you as soon as you said the sentence because you quickly hear the stomping up the stairs.

During the short time you throw the dress in your closet and look back in a lost daze before you slam the closet door shut. You sigh,"What am I gonna do?" You don't have much time to think about the next step before Okuyasu zooms into the door frame. He's panting—big wide chest moving up and down in a seducing rhythm. "Told ya I could beat you up the stairs Josuke!" He proudly and rather cutely says.

Not even a second later Josuke is up behind Okuyasu, Josuke's shorter frame slightly being blocked by him. It's funny how someone even as tall as Josuke looks short compared to Okuyasu. The pompadour wearing man rolls his eyes,"Yeah,Yeah meathead I know I lost." Okuyasu doesn't even bother to hide his amusement,in fact,the man can't stop laughing. "Maybe you should become a boxer like me instead of being Mr.Future Doctor. That'll get you faster."

"Yeah and risk breaking this nose?" He points to his perfectly pointed and straight nose. "No,thanks." You giggle at their interaction,"I don't know 'Yasu, Josuke's pretty built for someone who doesn't box." Okuyasu dramatically slacks his jaw,"C'monnnn he's not better than babies." Okuyasu flexes his thick arms,posing them in a abstract Y position.

You smile and lean over to touch the hard mass of muscles,chubby digits feel up his biceps. "Ooo very hard 'Yasu!" The teasing compliment flusters the tall man,making him splutter out,"Course they are! I take good care of myself! I eat real good too!" You look at him,"I know, 'Yasu. Anyone can really tell how good you take care of yourself."

Josuke chuckles this time,"Well remember Okuyasu,this future doctor takes care of all your injuries because you always spend your money

too fast and can't afford an actual hospital bill." Okuyasu whines," Man you can't use that against me,I always get my money back anyways."

"Right." Josuke remarks sarcastically. You laugh once more before disputing the whole interaction. "All right,all right you both are just great the way you but you'd be even better asleep." The both whine out an okay and drag their feet to your bed.

You slide into the middle of the soft mattress but stopping halfway though to ask,"Are you guys fine with me being in the middle?" They don't seem to mind because they simply just shake their head. You nod and finally make yourself comfy in the insulated center of the bed.

However,comfort doesn't last long when both of the males turn their handsome faces towards you. You don't fail to catch their staring eyes drinking you in. You feel a pool of nervous saliva coat your mouth," 'Suke can you turn off the light?" The male nods and leans over to switch off the lamp placed on your bedside table.

The second the lights turned off Okuyasu boldly grips wraps his big arms around the whole expanse of your rounded front—thick hard muscle grasping your wide waist in possessiveness. The actions so sudden a small gasp flees from you. " 'Yasu not so rough!" You exclaim in a flustered panic. He doesn't say anything in response,instead digging his scabbed extremities into the plushness of your pouch sitting above your pillowy hip bones and groin.

He nuzzles his face into your shoulder,instantly knocking out onto your flesh. Josuke and you share a glance of shock and amusement. You break the silence with a quiet giggle. "I forgot how easily he goes to sleep." Josuke nods,"I know right? He's just like a baby."

You smile,"Yeah,wish I could go to sleep as easily as him." Bright diamond blue eyes peer into you,analyzing your very being. An inhale of breath is heard before," How have you been holding up?" The question rings into the air,almost like you don't want to answer it. You can't tell Josuke—your protector,your friend,the guys who's ward off bullies by going in a blind rage of attack when bad things has ever been said about you—that the taunting ghost of Morioh called you to get himself off in some sick way.

He'd get only hurt and dragged into a unfolding mess. You can't do that to him! Sure,he's strong and tall,standing at 6'1 feet with some raging fighting skills. But could he take on the Ghostface? The man who mutilated a person you used to know so inhumanly. Not even to mention there's most likely two of them. No,Josuke couldn't know. For his sake.

"I've been doing okay. Just always nervous,ya know?" He hums in acknowledgment,long lashes kissing his cheek bones. His smooth yet textured fingers gently rub back and forth on a small patch of flesh of your cheek. "I know,baby. But me and Oku will take care of ya anyway you need. All you need is us,the rest of the world will just ruin ya."

You look up at him and catch his wrist in affectionate hold,your own fingers rubbing skin as well. "Mmm,I know you'll take care of me—the both of you but I just can't get this constant fear out of me. I'm so scared of them. " Josuke looks at you in thought,trying to find the right thing to say to comfort you.

"You're not their MO,they won't touch you." You find comfort in how matter factly he states it,like he's completely sure that nothing will happen to you. "I know but it's just the last victim I knew. You remember that one guy in high school who confessed to me? That was him. And it's just so hard for me to actually grasp that he's no longer here anymore."

Josuke's gentle and somber expression melts away,twisting in a disgusted one. "That guy was a creep,(Reader). He just fetishized you,like you're some type of meat. And you're not,you're the most sweetest,most beautiful,most considerate person and that fucker was probably just jerking off to ya body." You're gagged by how easily he tore into the deceased man.

"But still—" You try to speak but you're cut off with a cold cut sentence,"No,I think he got exactly what was coming to him." You stare up at the male, shocked by the discovery of just how cold and ruthless he could be. " Josuke..." you trail off. He looks at you,his angry expression fleeing from him the moment he does.

"I'm sorry I must scare ya talking like that." He stops rubbing your cheek,replacing the soothing touch with cupping it. You nod,"Yeah,I've never heard you so...cruel before." He leans closer to you,softly sighing. "I know but creeps like that just piss me off. I'm sorry, I won't talk like that in front of you again."

You peer into Josuke's pretty eyes,not missing the barely lingering murderous glint reflecting in them. It fills you with a pool of anxiety and a little drop of suspicion. But Josuke couldn't be one of the men plaguing Morioh,he loves Morioh after all! He talks about the city so beautifully—the people he loves that reside here. So naturally,you easily brush off the creeping inkling.

" It's okay,let's just not talk about it anymore." You assure as you lean into his touch. People could call it delusional or just pure ignorance to brush off someone's body and verbal language if they were acting like Josuke a few moments ago. But no,you feel in your heart that he and Okuyasu could never commit such heinous crimes. They could never..at least that's what you told yourself to help halt the booming alarm bells coursing through your brain.

Josuke nods,"Yeah,let's just go to sleep,m'kay?" You don't protest him,welcoming the suggestion of sleep. " G'Night 'Suke." He hums a response and snuggles closer to your neck. You close your eyes,attempting to drift off to a peaceful darkness.

Josuke's rhythmic breathing against the nape of your neck soothes you like a lullaby does.

☠︎☠︎

"Sorry me and Okuyasu had to go to work. We tried to wake u up but u wouldn't budge. See you later tho and stay safe!" Is what you read as you groggily pour yourself some milk for the cereal you're about to eat.

"Ughgg I can't believe I slept in for so long..." you complain. It's now 4:39 in the afternoon and you find yourself dazzlingly eating not so good cereal.

You guess though,that at least this is somewhat normal for a person your age. To sleep long and be unproductive the moment summer break hits. But you're no longer a normal college student anymore,for the man taunting your innocent city is now personally bothering you.

You wait and wait and wait,doing things to keep your mind busy until the clock strikes 12. Time slowly yet quickly slips the your finger tips. It seems every time you pursue an activity the time goes the quicker. It's almost like the universe can sense your unrelenting anxiety and chose to pick on you.

5' o clock

6' o clock

7' o clock

8' o clock

9'o clock

10'o clock

11' o clock

Your face is crest fallen once you look down at your phone and realize that it's only one hour away from the awaiting phone call. Your chest tightens and suddenly all the air from your lungs flees. One breath,then another,and a third one before you slide down a wall.

It feels like the whole sky is resting on your racing chest. It's too much—it hurts it's so much.

You wheeze and try to compose your breathing. Slowly—extremely slow your compose yourself and once you do you immediately stand up.

"I can't stay here..! I-I have to go!" The thought of staying in your own house is too much right now. The thought of just sitting in your home like a sitting duck almost makes another panic attack ensue. You hurriedly grab your phone and stuff it into the pocket of the mid thigh length shorts you're wearing and slide on some sandals.

You rush out your door and start an instant pace away from your house. Further,you just needed to be further. It's now finally hitting you that there's no real escape! The police couldn't and wouldn't help,after all they haven't done much of anything to help with the disgusting crimes committed prior. Josuke and Okuyasu can't help you,they're just regular young adults just like you.

You're just screwed,so screwed. And you may have made yourself even more screwed by making the rather impulsive decision to walk away from home. But you honestly didn't make it too far,being only 10 houses away from your own. You pull out your phone from your pocket and it's barely 11:15. You could still walk back to your house..but then what? He'd call and tell you to touch yourself again and then you'd just do whatever he says?

That didn't sound good to you at all. However the choices are slim—go to the police force who won't do anything about or accept whatever they'll want you to do. Both of those choice sound horrible,however one has a more merciful fate. If you were to go to the police you feel that they would know but if you were just to be obedient,maybe,just maybe you'd have a sliver of hope to be unharmed.

With that you briskly walk back to your once beloved home. The overwhelming sense of dread constantly pokes at you. You'd just have to suck it up,no matter what they gave to you.

You wrap your ample arms around the protruding roundness of your stomach,gripping anything for comfort. Despite your poor attempt at comfort you still feel a sinking ball of anxiety fall lower into the never ending pit of your tummy.

You never thought that is ever growing ball of sensed doom could get any bigger,however once you arrive at your house and find the door to your house is barely ajar.

Your heart booms and booms against it's confined cage. The hairs of the back of neck stand tall once you feel the familiar vibration of your phone shaking against your leg. A shaky hand reaches for the cellular device and you see the dreaded numbers.

Unlike last time,you made sure there's no room for blowing off a unknown number again. You answer,fear injecting your tone,"H-Hello?" You can practically hear the smile on the murderer's face,"Heya doll! You've been a good girl fa' us?" This voice...sounds different—raspy and deeper than the voice prior. This must the other half of Ghostface.

"Y-Yes." You answer. "Hmm...Don't sound so bummed out! It'll be good in a lil bit,okay?" You're off put by the shift in personality and tone. This Ghostface sounded nicer,less impatient and sadistic. Although the new voice is a scary find,it doesn't distract you from the slightly opened door to your home. "Did you come to my house?"

The question stands still,the man on the other line letting it cruelly marinate. "I dunno,why don't ya find out?" A thin layer of anticipation sweat coats your face as you gulp down a wad of saliva. "I'm waiting inside,are ya really gonna make me be here all night?" It's whiny—his tone,almost childish. It reminds you of someone but you can't put your finger in it.

"N-No." You remark. "Yeah? Then,hurry inside. I gotta surprise for ya." Something told you that this surprise isn't something you'll be very glad to see. The images of someone's intestines lining your floor as some sick substitute for romantic rose petals—blood splatters coating the untouched decor instead of calming candles. Or worse,them waiting with knives in their hand preparing to torture you and mutilate your body.

What you find when you enter the invaded house isn't intestines,nor blood splatters. No,what you find is much worse than anyone's sick mutilation. Dozens of polariod pictures decorate the wooden floor. With each step you take it's like looking at a mirror full of past yous because all the images laid on the foundation are of you. Naked,clothed,changing,eating,sleeping—whatever a person's daily normal activities are all there right in front of you.

But what's really the icing on this fucked up cake,is the two bodies cloaked in black and elongated dramatic masks,standing there in the middle of splay of pictures. Ghostface. The sights are so terrifying,so incredibly off putting that you don't know what to look at—the secretly taken pictures or the Ghostfaces that have ruined Morioh.

"Well are ya just gonna stand there or are ya gonna greet us?" The raspy voice rhetorically asks. If you weren’t suffering from shock you would’ve made the smart choice and walked over to them but you physically couldn’t move. Your body feels like a leaf struggling to fight the wind

— the trembling exuding from your nerves being unstoppable. “Aww she’s scared! We can’t just leave her like that.” The one who’s slightly taller says.

“Yeah,you’re right. Let’s make this easier for her.” The pair walk over to you and there’s so much tension. So much fearful curiosity on what’s going to happen to you. “P-Please…” That’s all you can mutter. Just please. Please what? Please don’t murder me? Please don’t hurt me? You don’t know what you’re asking for but you just wanted to stop whatever’s happening to you.

“ Josuke’s she’s pleading,I feel bad.” Josuke? Your Josuke? There’s no way you heard that right. A hard swat is heard,a harsh impact landing on the male’s arm. “Ya idiot! She was supposed to know after we were done! Fuck,you just ruined our plan.” The man you call a friend,the man who’s comforted you from Ghostface …is the one disturbing Morioh.

You want to be pissed,want to yell and scream and tell them what sick bastards they are. They only thing you can manage is a broken sob fleeing from your body. Hot tears soak your cheeks, the constant moisture never leaving. You can’t even bear to stand anymore,your knees giving out on hard wooden floor.

“Why?! Josuke,how could you?! Okuyasu why?! Just why?!” You cradle your hands in your face and just sob,letting snot and salty tears build up on the skin. Hard heavy boots stomp their way to your form and a gloved hand forces you to look up at a screaming mask.

“Don’t go pitying yourself. You should be thankful we did all this for you—because we love you. Don’t you realize how lucky you are to have two people so in love with you?” By now Josuke’s taken off his mask,allowing you to stare at his crazed expression. Okuyasu joins in,his bare face shown to you too,”Yeah! Me and Josuke are just doing this because we love ya! So just be a good girl like last night and everything should be good,m’kay?”

“You love me..YOU LOVE ME?!” You voice trembles with a mixture of rage and betrayal. “How can you even claim to love me when you hurt my community?! How do you even have the audacity to say such a thing when you’ve lied and manipulated me?! You two bastards are sick!” You’re about to stand up before Josuke’s strong hand shoots out and pushes your head down with a insane amount of strength.

“You’ve always been stubborn (Reader)…but if ya can’t see what we’re trying to do for you then fine. I didn’t want to be so rough with ya…only wanted to scare ya a bit and then fuck your poor little brains out but since you wanna be a bitch though we’ll do it the hard way.” Effortlessly,so easily he scoops you up and hauls you over his shoulder. You hang over his muscular back and scratch your dull nails through the fabric. It doesn’t seem to be effective and only manages to piss him off because he roughly spanks your slightly exposed bottom.

“Behave.” He warns. You whine at the impact but stop your physical protest. “Okuyasu go get the rope,she won’t stay still.” Chills crawl down your spine the moment he utters that and so…casually too. “Right.” Okuyasu stops following you two and goes back downstairs.

Josuke takes you to your room and plops you on the bed. You attempt to force out all the hatred and betrayal and..sadness you feel once you look at him in face again. He chuckles at that,seemingly amused by it. “You can never be mad at us—at me,you’ve always had such a soft spot for me and Okuyasu. So just accept whatever we give you,yeah?”

With that he pushes you flat on your back onto the springy mattress,his big hand cradling your wrists as he straddles you. He pulls something from his pants and once you see the reflective glimmer of a cool metal your chest starts racing up and down. “What’re you do—“ His gloved fingers mush your lips shut. “Shhh..just let me do it.”

He brings the knife down to your thin cotton tank top,the tip of the jagged knife circling your hardened nipple. “No bra?” He smugly asks. “Were you waiting for me and ‘Oku to ruin ya’re cunt?” You shake your head no and he chuckles. “What do that little phone call I gave you yesterday didn’t have ya pacing in excitement? Didn’t have your pretty fuckin cunt clenching around nothin?”

You ignore him yet he’s still amused. “It’s okay,sweet thing you don’t have to lie to me. I know how your body feels.” He continues his gestures,making sure the cool blade nips at your erect nipples. A small whine falls from your lips at the cold contact—sounds are pulled from you by the attention on your bare breasts. “Shit ya sound so good,ya know that? Fuck needa see your pretty titties.”

He quickly cuts open your shirt with the weapon,not caring about how dangerous the swift motions are. Josuke practically drools once he his dilated pupils lock onto your chest and tummy. “Fuck,Okuyasu better hurry up before I take you for myself…” His veiny hands grip the pillowy flesh rested on your chest,his flat finger nails digging into you.

Okuyasu comes barging into the room with a coil of rope and a cam recorder. “Noo you started without me!” He impatiently sets the items onto the bed and rushes over to hover over you. His eyes light up like a little kid in a candy shop once he lays eyes on you. “Ya’re so fuckin gorgeous (Reader)!” Impulsively his hand reaches over to touch your boobs,not even bothered by the fact that Josuke’s hands are over them.

“ Josuke move your hands,I wanna feel.” He complains. “Whatever…” He arises from his straddling position and walks over to the other side of the bed. Happily Okuyasu takes his spot and hops over your laying body. His face dives into your chest and whatever he’s doing feels so unbelievably nice. He suckles like a baby being nursed on your exposed nipples,rotating from your left to right one. He mushes and massages eagerly,loving the way you feel.

“You taste…so fucking good! I wanna know what that pretty cunt tastes like!” He pops off your tits so crudely but you can’t bring yourself to care. All you can even get out is small whimpers and grips on his hair. “Yeah,Okuyasu eat her cunt! I’ve been thinking about that since I called her. It’s so fuckin fat Okuyasu…and her little clit just throbs whenever you give it any attention.”

“Shit really? You’re a real lucky bastard Josuke,gettin to see her cummin on her fingers.” Josuke chuckles,”I think you’re the lucky one,you’re the one who gets to taste it first.” Okuyasu doesn’t argue that so he hastily pulls down your shorts and panties. “Spread your legs,baby.”

You do as he says,allowing him to slide off your clothes. He quickly slides down your body,making his way to your cunt. He pushes your thighs apart and whistles an appreciative tune. “Mmm..you weren’t lying,her pussy’s so pretty.” Without any warning he nudges his nose against your clit. Affectionately teasing the throbbing button.

He spreads apart your pussy lips even separating your thick pubic hair that’s stuck to the moisture of your cunt. He dives in with zero hesitation,wrapping his mouth around your hammering clitoris. You writhe and moan at his attentive behavior—everywhere,his tongue felt everywhere.

It felt like you couldn’t catch a break, every few minutes you were gasping and moaning,arching your back away from the bed. Okuyasu spits down your pussy as he sits up to look at you. “You look so fuckin cute. Josuke you gotta film this…look at her face—fuck I got so much pre cause of it.” He immerses himself back in between your legs this time scissoring two of his fingers into your accommodating walls.

His free hand clenches the hanging fat above your cunt,the harder he licks the more his grip becomes more rough. “Look at me,sweet thing..Look at the camera.” Josuke points the camera down at you with one hand,the other rubbing a painful looking bulge fighting against the fabric of his pants. You whine and whimper,” Y-Yasu! Don’t stop!”

Your encouragement only makes the tongue in between your legs move more passionately. It feels so good! So good! So good,that you can’t fight back the cascading tears falling from your eyes. “Shit—you feel so good that ya’re crying,baby? Yeah? You like Oku’s tongue on your sweet cunt?” The male leans down and lick away the salty tasting liquid from you plush cheeks. “Mmm..just everything tastes good about you.”

“Aaah! ‘Gnna cum! G’nna cum!” Slur after slur Okuyasu continues his aggressive attack on your sensitive pussy. You push away from his mouth,using your hands to uproot you from your place on your back however you’re met with big hands digging into the flesh of your wide hips. “Nu uh,don’t move away from him! You’re interrupting his meal. We can’t let ya do that…” Josuke sets the camera down onto bedside table and reaches for the discarded rope.

He swiftly bounds you by your wrists and softly pushes you back onto the bed. “Now be a good girl and take it!” He exclaims. By then Okuyasu seems to have found a special spot that would take you over the brink of pleasure. He curls his digits against the mushy spot and a loud hysterical scream falls from your lips.

You see black spots taking over your vision. You can’t hear anything,can’t even see,a mind numbing orgasm taking over all senses.

You’re so incoherent that you don’t even know how you’re sprawled out on your hands and knees. “Ya’re gonna take this dick,doll? Hmm,you want this fat cock hitting ya cervix?”

You look behind you and find Josuke positioned behind you.

“W-What??” Okuyasu hushes you by pushing the tip of his pre cum covered head against your lips. “Just enjoy it,doll face..Just enjoy it.” Is all you hear before the tip of his mouth enters your mouth.

You mumble around his tip right before Josuke mercilessly thrusts inside of your cunt. Your lips pop off Okuyasu’s tip in a surprised moan. “ Gentle! Be gentle! Fuck—omg!” Your moan against Okuyasu’s inner thigh,the toll of Josuke’s rough treatment becoming more obvious.

“C’mon baby,don’t ignore me! I need you…” Okuyasu whines. He nudges your mouth to his once more and this time you’re ready for it. You curl your tongue around the expanse of his shaft. You set a constant motion,bobbing your head halfway down his cock and jerking off what you can’t fit in your mouth.

Josuke seems to like the pace you’ve set and gyrates his hips into you each time you pull away from Okuyasu’s dick. In and out,in and out,that’s all you can think—feel about. It’s so euphoric,feels so new. Each time Okuyasu’s thick cock burns the back of your throat,Josuke’s cock deliciously drags against your clamping walls.

The man behind you has a death grip onto the fat of you wealthy hips. “Fuck,I’m gonna cum in this pussy! Gonna claim this pussy as mine! Shit!” His labored breath quickens the deeper and deeper he goes into you.

Okuyasu groans and forces your head further down his cock. You gag and grip the sheets as your back of your throat is constantly touched by his oozing tip. It’s too much! It’s too much to have them both focusing you on you at the same time.

You try to pull away to express the intense overstimulation you’re facing but a rough hand keeps you still. But what really sends you over the edge is when you feel two fingers reaching over you and circling your clit. “Mmhm! You’re so good,baby! Taking me so well!” Okuyasu compliments.

Josuke groans and mutter babbles of praises. It’s a mantra of noises,diluting the idea of time for you. You’re not sure if it’s been hours,minutes or mere seconds.

But still you find yourself so close to the brink of sweet paradise. “Such. A. Perfect. Fucking.Cunt.” Each word is emphasized with a balls deep thrust. You moan on Okuyasu’s cock,gripping the sheets underneath you.

You’re so close,so close! You could feel your orgasm creeping up on you! “Mmmf!” A shocked whimper is muffled by white hot liquid overflowing in your mouth. You don’t even have to process it before Josuke tightens his grip on you and mounts you like a animal in rut.

“Shit m’ gonna cum in ya! Want ya cunt to take every single drop!” He groans and leans against you,punching your cervix with the head of his fat cock. That’s when you can’t hold it anymore and you slump forward,finally letting go of Okuyasu’s member from your oral hold.

Josuke fucks you throughout your orgasm,every single thrust paired with filthy words. Finally at his last thrust his hips still as he releases a huge load into you. He huffs and huffs against your back,Okuyasu mimicking his actions as well.

And you can barely keep your eyes open—the vision offered to you being slowly whisked away. From then your whole surroundings disappear and everything doesn’t exist anymore…

Not even the fact that Morioh’s killers made you theirs…

Reblogs are greatly appreciated! So are comments!<3

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sterngiirl · 1 year

Text

Anywhere but home.

Rohan Kishibe x reader.

NSFW, foreplay at the end, a bit semi-public! Also a bit horrific? Enemies to lover dynamics. (;

Rohan is 25 years old in this fic, you are 21, minor age gap.

Summary: You move into a new house in Morioh, hoping for a fresh start. But soon after you settle in, you begin to notice strange things happening. Objects move on their own, and you hear whispers in the middle of the night. You also start having vivid nightmares that seem to have a connection to the house.

Desperate for answers, you turn to Rohan Kishibe, who is known for his supernatural investigations.

A/N: I re-watched ‘Thus Spoke Kishibe Rohan’ recently, and this show is so good. So here I am, trying to write a kind of ‘horrific’ inspired story. It’s my first time writing in this genre, but I enjoyed it very much! So, please enjoy. (;

Word count: 13k (turn out longer than I thought).

Morioh, Café Deux Magots, 9 am.

You sighed heavily, the fatigue and stress evident in your voice as you spoke. "They keep whispering: 'You belong in this house, you can't escape'. It wakes me up at night, I haven't slept for two weeks." You said, your voice shaking with exhaustion.

You glanced wearily at your coffee cup, the dark liquid providing the only source of energy to keep you going. "I wasn't a fan of coffee, but it's the only thing keeping me awake at this point," you added, feeling defeated and lost.

You knew you weren't crazy, and that your house was haunted. After two months of unexplainable occurrences and eerie whispers, you had to face the truth.

You had sought out the most arrogant resident of Morioh, Rohan Kishibe, hoping for some kind of solution to your problem. However, his response was far from sympathetic. "Humpf. Considering the state of your face, it's not surprising, really," he retorted, his voice dripping with mock concern.

Your eyes were bloodshot and your hair was unkempt, evidence of the sleepless nights you had endured, there was nothing funny about your situation.

Despite his lack of empathy, you knew Rohan was your only hope, unfortunately. You leaned in, desperation creeping into your voice. "Please, Rohan. I don't know what to do anymore. I can't live like this."

Rohan leaned back in his chair, his piercing gaze focused on you as if trying to read your thoughts. You could feel his eyes on you, evaluating your situation and coming up with a solution. Finally, he broke the silence with a matter-of-fact statement.

"Moves out, changes house."

You felt a surge of frustration at the suggestion. If only it was that simple.

You had invested everything you had into buying this house and moving to Morioh, and now you were trapped in it. The thought of leaving the town that had captured your heart was unbearable. You had your friends there, your job and study.

"Not everyone has your fortune," you retorted, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice. "I put everything into this house to be in Morioh. I have no solutions."

The sky above the city was a canvas of bright colors, with hues of orange, yellow, and pink blending seamlessly together. The sun was shining high, casting a warm glow over the town, even though it was still early in the morning. The café terrace was a pleasant spot to enjoy the beautiful day, with a gentle spring breeze blowing through the area, carrying with it the sweet scent of blooming flowers.

As you sat at the table, sipping your coffee, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the moment of peace amidst the chaos of your house. The warm sun on your skin and the soft breeze in your hair were soothing, and for a moment, you almost forgot about the whispers and shadows that haunted your every waking moment.

Looking around, you noticed the other patrons of the café, chatting and laughing with each other, completely unaware of the darkness that lurked in your home. It was a strange feeling, knowing that you were the only one experiencing this horror.

"Koichi told me I could ask for your help," you said, trying to keep your tone respectful.

"Koichi thinks I'm friends with everyone, I'm not," Rohan replied in a disinterested manner, not bothering to look up from his coffee cup.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment at Rohan's response. Feeling frustrated and a bit defeated, you took a deep breath and tried to assert yourself. "But you know me," you said, trying to reason with him. "You have a unique set of skills that might be useful in my situation."

Rohan's smirk widened as he leaned back in his chair. "And here I thought you were just another superstitious fool," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But it seems like you're actually serious about this." As he makes his comment he looks up at you.

“Complimenting me? You really got there?” he continued, sarcastically, “You are really desperate.”

You felt a surge of anger rising within you, but you swallowed it back down. Rohan was your last hope. "Yes, I'm serious," you replied, trying to keep your voice calm. "I've been living in that house for two months now, and I know that it's haunted. I can't explain the things that have been happening."

Rohan raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. "Like what?" he asked.

"Like the voices," you say, frustrated to repeat yourself, shuddering at the memory. "They whisper to me in the middle of the night. And then there are the shadows - they move like they have a life of their own. Also… It seems like the objects are moving and floating."

Rohan leaned forward, his eyes gleaming this time with small interest. "This sounds like something out of a horror movie," he said, still amused.

You gritted your teeth, trying to keep your cool. "And also, Rohan, just because I believe in ghosts doesn't mean I'm crazy. And just because I'm asking for your help doesn't mean I'm a fool." you retorted, almost matching his sassy energy.

Rohan raised an eyebrow, his smirk still in place. "I never said you were crazy or a fool," he said with a fake offended tone. "But you have to admit, a fortnight ago you were perfectly normal. That’s why I’m suspicious.”

You let out a sigh, feeling some of your tension dissipate a little. "I know it's a long shot," you said, "but I'm desperate. I'll do whatever it takes to get rid of these ghosts and reclaim my home."

Rohan reached for a sheet of paper and a pencil, ready to capture your expression. "I don't take this kind of story lightly," he said, "But you seem really, really, really hopeless.” The way he emphasized the word 'really' irked you. “Let me capture that."

You frowned, feeling irritated by his dismissive attitude. "I'm not a character for your manga," you protested weakly.

Rohan simply shrugged and began sketching, his pencil moving quickly over the paper. You watched him in silence, feeling a mix of frustration and exhaustion. Finally, he finished and held up the sketch for you to see.

You stared at the drawing, it was perfectly done, nothing surprising. But strangely, you were disappointed that the only time he drew you was because of your depressed and tired face. Plus, Rohan hadn't made a single effort to make you more charming.

"I hate you, I really do," you said through gritted teeth.

As you sat across from Rohan, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at his demeanor. It seemed like he was always looking for a way to put you down, always trying to one-up you with his snarky comments and sly remarks.

Rohan merely chuckled and put the sketch away. "Don't be so dramatic," he said, "It's just a sketch."

As Rohan's hand closed around his coffee cup, his gaze remained locked on you. It was a piercing stare that made your skin tingle and your heart rate quicken. His green eyes seemed to scrutinize every detail of your face, as if searching for something deeper within you. You couldn't help but feel a sense of discomfort under his intense gaze, almost as if he was trying to read your mind.

You noticed a small smirk playing on his lips, as if he knew exactly what effect he was having on you. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes burned with a fierce intensity that made you feel like you were under a microscope. It was almost as if he was challenging you to make a move, to push back against his words.

Despite your annoyance at his nonchalant demeanor, you couldn't deny the magnetic pull he had on you. It was a strange mix of attraction and frustration that left you feeling both exhilarated and irritated. You found yourself wondering what it would be like to get closer to him, to understand the depths of his mind that seemed to be hidden beneath his sassy and arrogant personality.

You had known each other for two years, but it always felt like an uphill battle to get along with him. Your relationship had been strained from the beginning, with your shared constant bickering and snarky remarks. He hated the way you handled him with such a lack of interest.

When you first met, you were still a student and had to travel from S city to Morioh for your studies. But now, after settling down permanently a few months ago, you had to face him on a regular basis. It wasn't easy to deal with his (sometimes) cruel personality, but you tried your best to maintain a cordial relationship with him for the sake of Koichi.

And yet, there was always an underlying tension between the two of you.

You both shared a passion for art and culture as you were a journalist and photographer, which should have brought you closer together. But instead, it felt like another point of contention between you. However, deep down, you couldn't deny the fact that there was something intriguing about Rohan that drew you in. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to your relationship than meets the eye.

Breaking the tense silence that had built up dangerously, you spoke up, “So? Now that you believe me, and you're sure I'm not playing a sick joke on you, will you agree to help me?"

"Of course, I'll help you," he said. You couldn't help but notice his serious tone as he responded to your request. He seemed to be considering something, his words cryptic and mysterious. "But only if you're willing to help me in return."

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, wondering what Rohan could possibly need help with from you.

But before you could ask, he continued, "I have a new idea for my manga, and I think you could help me with it." The great Rohan Kishibe, asking for your help? This was unexpected.

Was this a genuine gesture, or just another one of his games? You couldn't help but feel a twinge of hope concerning your situation.

Still, you were curious. "How can I help?" you asked.

"You'll find out soon enough," he replied enigmatically, "but for now, let's focus on your haunted house. Who knows, maybe this story will inspire me just as well." He shrugged, and brought his coffee cup to his lips.

The Rohan you knew so well, would have relished in your frustration, but this new side of him was different. It was almost... endearing.

Over time, you began to see that there was more to Rohan than just his prickly exterior. You saw tiny glimpses of vulnerability and passion, of someone who was deeply committed to his craft and unafraid to push boundaries. And despite all of his flaws, you found yourself drawn to him, unable to resist.

As you looked into his eyes, you saw a glimmer of something that you couldn't quite put your finger on. Was it attraction? Admiration? Or something else entirely?

But more important is that finally, someone was taking you seriously. "What do we do?" you asked.

Rohan grinned, his eyes glinting with excitement. "We investigate," he said. "We'll spend a night in your haunted house, and see what we can find."

You felt a wave of anxiety wash over you, the thought of facing whatever lurked inside filled you with dread, and it must have been evident on your face because Rohan chuckled at your reaction.

"Don't be afraid, Y/n," he said, his voice soothing and calm. "I'll be there with you. You don't have to face this alone, I’m familiar with the paranormal."

The reassurance in his words did little to quell the fear that had taken root in your heart, but the fact that he was willing to stand by your side gave you a glimmer of hope. As you looked into his eyes, you could see the determination and confidence there.

"One more night shouldn't scare you," he continued, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "And who knows, we might even uncover something interesting."

Despite the unease that still lingered within you, you couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement at the prospect of uncovering the mystery of the haunted house with Rohan by your side.

With a deep breath, you finally nodded in agreement.

Morioh, your house, 9pm.

As the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house, you felt your heart skip a beat. Anxiety and fear had consumed you so completely that you were now paralyzed, unable to even move from your spot. The thought of being alone in the house made you feel vulnerable and exposed.

Hours had passed since you had arrived, and you had spent most of the afternoon anxiously waiting for Rohan's arrival. Every creak and rustle had made you jump, your nerves frayed with the constant anticipation of danger.

You knew Rohan had a busy schedule with a manuscript to complete in the afternoon and an important dinner with his editor that evening. Despite all of this, he promised to come over and help you tonight. You couldn't help but feel grateful for his commitment and dedication, especially considering his busy schedule. And to your surprise, he kept his promise and arrived promptly, showing his reliability and respect for his word.

When you opened the door to welcome Rohan, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. However, he let out a laugh that echoed through the hallway. His silhouette was barely visible in the dim light, but you could tell he was smirking smugly.

"You look even worse than this morning, Y/n. I almost feel sorry for you," he teased. "Nice pajamas by the way," he added, mockingly commenting on your current outfit.

“Thank you for your kind words Rohan, as always.” You scowled at him, and motioned for him to come in.

He stepped inside, taking in the interior of your house with a critical eye. It was the first time he had ever been to your place, and it was clear that he was unimpressed.

Your house was simple and small, with a modern design and minimalist decor. There was nothing spooky or foreboding about it, which made you feel a bit embarrassed for calling him over. But the fear of spending another night alone in the house had been too much to bear.

Rohan dropped his bag by the door and walked around the entrance and the living room connected to it, studying the decorations and furniture. "It's not exactly what I was expecting," he remarked, his tone laced with disappointment.

You bristled at his comment. "What were you expecting? A haunted mansion?" you retorted, feeling defensive.

He turned to face you, his expression unreadable. "No, not a mansion. But I was hoping for something a bit more... interesting. I mean, where's the history? The character?" he asked, gesturing around the room.

You rolled your eyes, already regretting asking for his help. It was clear that Rohan wasn't easily impressed, and you had a feeling that this was going to be a long night.

You sighed and closed the door behind you, feeling a mixture of nervousness and reluctance as you prepared to spend another night in your haunted house. As you turned to face Rohan, you tried to change the subject for a moment, not particularly excited about investigating the spirits that haunted the place.

"How did your dinner go?" you asked, hoping to distract him and perhaps buy some time before confronting the eerie atmosphere that awaited you.

Rohan was already leaning over the bookcase in your living room, scanning the titles of your books. "That went well," he said, his voice a little weary. "Izumi drains all my energy every time..."

You raised an eyebrow, curious. "Izumi?"

"My editor, remember, you know her," Rohan explained, turning to face you. "But I think I managed to give her the impression that I wasn't uninterested or bored..."

Rohan picked up a book from the shelf and opened it without asking for permission, as if he owned everything. It was a book of documentary photography about Italy, and specifically, the Venice Carnival.

"Since when do you care about people's opinions?" you asked, a bit surprised trying not to show your annoyance. Rohan had always struck you as someone who didn't care much for others.

Rohan chuckled. "Izumi is different," he said, his tone serious. "She works for me, brings me the books I need, and if I disappoint her, they’ll give me another editor. And I don't have the patience for that."

You nodded, understanding his point. Rohan was a successful manga artist, and he relied on his editor to promote and distribute his work. Displeasing her would have dire consequences for his career.

“You aren’t jealous?” Rohan asked curiously, closing the book he had been perusing and tucking it under his arm, shamelessly.

As he asked the question, a frown creased your forehead, and you found yourself surprised by the suddenness of it. You had never thought of yourself as the type to feel jealous, especially not when it came to Rohan. He was your ‘dear’ enemy. But the more you thought about it, the more you realized that there was a small part of you that was bothered by his relationship with Izumi.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of irritation at the thought of him putting up with her volatile temper, going to parties and dinners with her, and even talking about his passion. When he couldn't even hold a cordial conversation with you.

It all seemed so intimate, so exclusive, and you couldn't help but wonder what it was that made her so special. Was it her looks? Her intelligence? Her influence in the publishing industry? You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but the fact remained that Rohan seemed to prioritize her over you, at least in some ways.

Despite these feelings, you knew that you couldn't show them to Rohan. He was too perceptive, too insightful, and would be able to pick up on any subtle cues or hints. So you forced a neutral expression and replied as casually as you could manage, "No, I don't care."

You hoped that your words would be convincing enough to put any doubts or suspicions out of Rohan's mind, but deep down you knew that the issue wasn't really resolved, especially facing his smirk.

"So, are we ready to investigate my house?" Your heart was pounding in your chest as you nervously asked Rohan. You never thought you would actually be saying those words out loud, but here you were, about to face whatever paranormal activity lurked within the walls of your home.

The thought of facing Rohan's vicious questions was almost as terrifying as the idea of encountering a ghost, so it was time to change his mind once again.

To your surprise, Rohan chuckled at your question and responded with enthusiasm. "Let's do this," he said with a grin. It was clear that he was excited to explore and his eagerness helped to ease some of your anxiety.

Several hours had passed since Rohan's arrival, and the night was well underway, nearing midnight. Despite your expectations, nothing unusual had occurred. No floating objects, no strange whispers, not even a creaking sound. It was almost embarrassing for you, as you knew the paranormal activities that are normally occurring. But in the mangaka's presence, nothing.

You felt the weight of exhaustion in your eyes, and the temptation to fall asleep was strong. The presence of Rohan, usually unsettling and intimidating, strangely gave you a sense of calm. However you knew that you couldn't let your guard down. So instead, you watched him work, silently impressed by his dedication and attention to detail.

Meanwhile, and to your luck Rohan remained serious and focused on his investigation. He was looking at the papers of the house alongside you in the living room, trying to understand its history, location, and plans. He was determined to get to the bottom of the mystery.

Just when you were about to give up hope and go to bed, Rohan suddenly exclaimed, "Ah!" He raised a piece of paper before his eyes and exclaimed, "I was thinking too narrowly. The house was built on an old cemetery. That should explain some of it."

You were surprised and a bit creeped out by the revelation. “The agent took care to hide it from me…”, you said in a plaintive voice. “I wonder why.”

“Maybe they were having trouble selling it, and since you're not exactly from Morioh, they saw an opportunity,” Rohan suggested. He sighed, “It's a shame it happened to you, Y/n. But, it's just a cemetery, nothing that should justify what you described to me.”

As Rohan lifted his eyes from the papers to observe you, his gaze was intense and piercing, as if trying to read your thoughts and emotions. These past days, it was a habit of his, admiring you like a sort of unique masterpiece.

You couldn't help but feel a bit vulnerable under his scrutiny, but at the same time, there was a sense of understanding and sympathy in his eyes. Which was surprising.

It was almost as if he could see through your tough exterior and was genuinely concerned about your well-being. His gaze was unwavering, yet comforting, and it made you feel like you could trust him in that instant.

“I doubt you've been sleep deprived for weeks to play a trick on me... So you might as well take advantage of the fact that it's quiet so you can get some rest.” He finally said.

Despite the fact that Rohan's words were unexpectedly kind, you shook your head frantically, feeling the weight of fear pressing down on you. "No, I can't sleep," you replied, your voice trembling. "Sleeping in this house terrifies me, Rohan."

You weren't usually this vulnerable, especially in front of someone like him who could easily take advantage of your weaknesses to make fun of it. But the long hours of being awake, the weariness that crept up on you, and the realization that the house you thought was just an ordinary one had a dark and sinister past, all combined broke down your defenses.

Rohan kept his gaze on you, his hand on his chin as if he was contemplating deeply. You could see the understanding in his eyes, the empathy he felt for you despite his usually aloof and distant demeanor. It was a strangely comforting feeling.

"I didn't say I was leaving," he said after a moment, breaking the silence that had descended upon the room. "I took my clothes to change, if you wish, I will stay with you."

His words surprised you, and you looked up at him in confusion. "Why would you do that for me?"

Rohan shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "I need your help for my manga," he replied. "And besides, I wouldn't want you to be alone in here. Who knows what could happen."

You didn't know what to say, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and apprehension. You knew that Rohan was not the easiest person to be around, and that his presence could be just as unsettling as the house itself. But at the same time, you couldn't deny the fact that having him there made you feel safer somehow.

"Okay," you said finally, giving in to the exhaustion that had been weighing down on you. "Stay with me, please."

On this agreement, you stood up as best you could, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. Ready to go to bed, you turned to Rohan and said, "I don't have a guest room though, I hope you don't mind sleeping in my room."

"I wasn't planning on sleeping in the guest room anyway," Rohan replied, his voice collected. "If something happens, I want both of us to witness it." He carefully put away the papers he had been consulting and neatly picked up his bag.

You watched him in silence, still feeling a bit uneasy about the situation but grateful for his company. You were usually a strong and independent person, but the events of the past few days had taken a toll on you, both physically and mentally.

At this point, you were far too tired to protest or make any of your famous remarks to provoke him. You accepted the situation easily, even though the thought of sharing your bed with Rohan made you feel a bit uneasy.

"Well, follow me," you said, motioning for him to follow you to your room, which was upstairs.

You led Rohan up the stairs towards your bedroom. As you walked, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that you wouldn't have to spend the night alone in this house. You had never been so grateful for someone's company.

Once you reached your bedroom, you hesitated for a moment before opening the door. You knew it was silly, but you couldn't help feeling embarrassed by the state of your room. It was cluttered with books, clothes, and various items, a reflection of your chaotic lifestyle.

"Sorry for the mess," you muttered as you stepped inside, feeling self-conscious.

Rohan didn't seem to mind, though. He simply placed his bag down and looked around the room, taking everything in. "Interesting," he murmured to himself, almost as if he was talking to the room itself.

You couldn't help but feel curious. "What's interesting?" you asked, your fatigue momentarily forgotten.

He turned to face you, his eyes gleaming with a strange intensity. "Your room. It's like a reflection of your mind. Chaotic, but with a clear sense of purpose. And yet, there's something more, something hidden beneath the surface."

You couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine at his words. It was as if he could see right through you. But before you could ask any more questions, he gestured to the bed.

"Come on, let's get some rest," he said, his tone gentle but firm.

You nodded, feeling grateful for his presence once again. As you crawled into bed, you couldn't help but wonder what he meant by his words. Was there really something hidden beneath the surface of your mind? Or was it just your imagination, fueled by the fear and fatigue of the past few weeks?

Rohan bend down to set his bag on the floor, his eyes scanning the room briefly once again. You watched as he took a few steps towards the door before turning to face you once again. "I'm going to change my clothes," he announced.

You nodded in response, and explained to him where the bathroom was. As he left the room, you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. The silence that enveloped the room was heavy and suffocating. And not to help, the empty seat next to you seemed to mock you, a constant reminder that in a few moments it would be occupied by Rohan.

You sighed in frustration, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on you. On one hand, you couldn't stand Rohan and the way he always seemed to have an answer for everything. He had a way of getting under your skin like no one else could, and you resented him for it.

But on the other hand, you couldn't deny the fact that you were more than glad that out of everyone you knew in Morioh, it was him that was here with you in this moment. There was something about his presence that was comforting, despite the circumstances. It was a strange feeling, and you couldn't quite make sense of it.

As you sat there lost in thought, Rohan returned to the room dressed in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants. He looked relaxed but still very stylish. I was as if everything was normal and he had just finished a long day at work, ready to unwind.

"Very well," he said. "Let's get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Despite his prickly personality, you had always felt a strange connection to Rohan. Maybe it was because you both shared a passion for art, or maybe it was because he had always been there for you when you needed him.

He looked at you and asked, "Feeling any better?" His voice was soft, as he took a seat next to you in the bed. You could feel the weight and the warmth of his presence just next to your body.

You shrugged in response, not quite sure how to answer. "I don't know, to be honest. This whole thing has me feeling pretty shaken up." As you settled in, pushing the cover up to your shoulder, ready to sleep, you felt Rohan's eyes on you. "Is everything alright?" you asked, feeling self-conscious.

Rohan hesitated for a moment before replying, “Nothing.” His answer seemed dismissive, but you could tell that he was holding something back.

You raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "Are you sure about that?" you asked, hoping that he would open up to you.

He sighed, clearly not happy to talk about it, but he opened up anyway. "I just wanted to make sure you're comfortable," he said. "You've been through a lot these past few days, and I want to make sure you're okay."

You smiled, feeling touched by his concern. "Thank you," you said. "I'm just glad to have someone here with me."

For a moment you thought your comment made him tense, but he just nodded and turned off the lamp on the bedside table. As the room fell into darkness, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. You were grateful for Rohan's presence, and you knew that you wouldn't have been able to get through this without him.

"You know, I don't usually like having anyone stay with me," you admitted. "But it's nice to have someone to talk to."

Rohan chuckled softly. "I know what you mean," he said. "Sometimes it's nice to have someone around, even if you don't want to admit it."

You laughed quietly, feeling a sense of ease between the two of you. "In fact, I'm just glad you are the one here," you admitted, feeling your eyes start to droop with fatigue.

Rohan leaned over, "I'm not going anywhere," he whispered in your ear. "I'll be here as long as you need me."

As you drifted off to sleep, you felt a sense of safety in Rohan's presence.

. . . 'You belong in this house, you can't escape'

The whisper left you with the sensation of a warm breath on the back of your neck, causing your skin to crawl with fear. You woke up with a start, your heart pounding in your chest. When you opened your eyes, you were greeted by the darkness that filled your room. It was impossible to know what time it was, if you had even slept for long.

But in that darkness, you felt a presence, malevolent and dangerous, looming over you like a shadow.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and a cold sweat broke out across your forehead as you lay there, paralyzed with fear. Your mind raced, trying to rationalize the situation, but nothing made sense. You couldn't shake the feeling that someone or something was watching you, waiting to strike.

You tried to reach out from under the blanket to turn on the light of your bedside lamp, but your arm refused to move. It felt as if something was holding you down, trapping you in place.

The silence was deafening, and you could hear nothing but the sound of your own breathing and the pounding of your heart. The malevolent presence in the room had become more palpable, more tangible.

You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that it was all just a bad dream. But when you opened them again, the darkness remained, and the presence was still there. You knew that you had to do something, but fear had rendered you immobile.

The seconds ticked by like hours, and you could feel your sanity slipping away. You were trapped in a nightmare, with no way out.

At that moment, a sinister voice whispered in your ear, causing every hair on your body to stand on end. ‘Let me feed myself,' you could feel the warm breath gushing over your face, and you knew that you were in grave danger.

You tried to scream, but fear had paralyzed you. You felt like your brain was boiling as you struggled to understand how you could have fallen asleep in the presence of such danger. You tried to think, to collect your thoughts, to remember what had happened, but your mind was in a haze.

You were frozen in fear, unable to move or even breathe. Every nerve in your body was screaming for you to get up, to run, to do something, but you were unable to move a muscle.

Then suddenly a spark of hope came to your mind, yes, Rohan. Desperately, you reached out for him, hoping to find some comfort in his presence. But your hand met nothing but cold, empty space.

Terror flooded your body as the realization hit you that you were completely alone.

Unable to contain your fear any longer, you began to cry uncontrollably. Your sobs echoed through the empty room in a plaintive, painful moan, a haunting sound that only added to the terror of the situation. The darkness seemed to press in on you, suffocating you with its weight.

You were convinced that this was the end. The last night of your life. The thought filled you with a sense of crushing despair, and you sobbed even harder, your body wracked with pain.

“Y/n!” someone yelled out your name.

The door to your room creaked open, and you were momentarily blinded by the sudden flood of light. You blinked several times, trying to adjust your vision to the brightness. When your eyes finally focused, you saw Rohan standing in the doorway, his expression etched with concern.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to find the words to respond. You managed to stammer out, "Did you see it? It was just here a moment ago."

Rohan's eyes widened with alarm as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "Who was here? What are you talking about?"

You could feel the fear rising up in your throat as you tried to explain what had just happened. Rohan listened to you, trying to understand your rambling words. He didn't seem very convinced. "T-The shadow," you said, your voice trembling. "It was here with me. I felt a breath on the back of my neck."

Rohan's expression softened as he realized how scared you were. He crossed the room to stand next to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "It's okay," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "I'm here now. You're safe."

You let out a shuddering breath, feeling the tension slowly begin to drain from your body. You looked around the room, but there was no sign of anyone else. It was just you and Rohan.

"I don't understand," you said, your voice still shaking. "I was so sure that there was someone else in here with me."

Rohan nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Sometimes our minds can play tricks on us," he said. "Especially when we're scared or anxious. It's possible that you just imagined it."

You knew that Rohan was trying to help, but his words didn't bring you any comfort. You were certain that there had been someone else in the room with you. But who? And why? The questions swirled around in your mind, leaving you feeling more confused and frightened than ever.

However, you barely had time to dry your tears when Rohan took you by the shoulders, shaking you a little in the process, you could feel your heart racing and your body tensing up. You knew exactly what he was about to do, and you were not ready for it. You had begged him before not to use his Stand, Heaven's Door, on you again, and you thought he had agreed not to. But here he was, with his hand raised and his Stand activated, ready to invade your mind once again.

Tears were still streaming down your face as you pleaded with him to stop. "No, Rohan, please! You promised me you wouldn't do this again!" Your voice was choked with emotion, but it didn't seem to deter him. He was determined to get the information he wanted, no matter the cost to your well-being.

You were acutely aware of the strange happenings in Morioh, with the bizarre powers possessed by many of its inhabitants. You hadn’t one, but Koichi and Okuyasu talked about their Stands and their abilities, and you knew that Rohan's Stand was even more dangerous than most. He could manipulate your memories and thoughts, altering them in any way he saw fit. The thought of him rooting around in your mind, exposing your most private thoughts and memories, filled you with a sense of dread.

You recalled the last time he had used his Stand on you, demonstrating its powers by using some of your deepest secrets to mock you. It had been a traumatic experience that left you feeling violated and helpless. After that, you had made him promise not to use it on you again, but now it seemed he had gone back on his word.

Rohan's arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you into a close embrace. You could feel his strong chest pressing against yours, his body heat enveloping you in a warm embrace. Despite your anger towards him, you couldn't help but notice how muscular and toned he felt despite his slender figure, and a small part of you found the closeness exhilarating.

You struggled against his grip, pushing against his chest with all your might, but he held you even tighter, refusing to let you go. His hands slid down your back, holding you firmly against him, and you could feel his breath on your neck as he leaned in closer.

"Please calm down," he tried to soothe you. "I'm doing this for your own good."

You gritted your teeth, angry at him for violating your trust and breaking his promise. But even as you pushed against him, you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of longing deep within you, a desire for something more than just anger and frustration.

Despite your protests, Rohan didn't stop. "I'm sorry Y/n, but I have to get this straight. Heaven's Door!" he said, as his hand made contact with your forehead you felt a strange sensation, almost like he was peeling back the layers of your mind.

A bright light flashed before your eyes and you felt your body go limp. Your consciousness seemed to fade away as the pages of a book appeared all around you. You were suddenly aware that Rohan's stand had turned you into a book, and he was reading through the pages to learn everything about you. You wanted to scream, to protest against this invasion of your privacy, but you were unable to move or speak.

You were completely at his mercy.

The next thing you knew, your world went black, and you lost consciousness.

As you regained consciousness, you realized that you were not alone in the room. You found yourself lying on Rohan's shoulder, and he was reading a book. "I hate you," you groaned and ran your hand over your face to make sure everything was back to normal.

You lifted your head from his shoulder slightly, trying to collect your thoughts. Rohan on the other hand chuckled softly, the sound of his voice almost taunting. "So I was right, you really are jealous of Izumi."

You felt a twinge of embarrassment as Rohan revealed his knowledge of your jealous feelings towards Izumi. You had been trying to hide those feelings from everyone, even yourself, because you knew they were unfounded and irrational. There was no concrete reason for your jealousy, only the fact that Rohan seemed to pay more attention to her than to you.

It was frustrating to feel this way, but you couldn't help it. You knew that Izumi was a talented editor, and it was natural for Rohan to want to work with her. But still, the way he praised her and seemed to be constantly in her presence made you feel somehow insecure.

You wince, feeling a pang of annoyance. "Why do you always have to do that?"

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I couldn't help it. You know how I am." Rohan closed the book he was holding and placed it on the coffee table, his tone light. Rohan tilted his head and smiled. "Jealousy can be a powerful emotion, but it doesn't have to control you. I don’t admit it often, but you're important to me too, you know that."

“Thank you.” You looked up at him, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. Maybe there was nothing to be jealous of after all. However, his teasing demeanor didn't amuse you. "Is that really the only information you found interesting? Nothing to do with my house?" you asked.

You sat up and looked around, trying to get your thoughts straight. As you took in your surroundings, you couldn't help but notice the strikingly luxurious decor of Rohan's living room. The room was well-lit with recessed lighting fixtures that cast a warm, welcoming glow. You noticed that there were several pieces of artwork adorning the walls, all of which seemed to be original pieces.

You recognized some of the furniture pieces from Rohan's manga, Pink Dark Boy. The couch you were sitting on was plush and comfortable, covered in soft velvet fabric. It was positioned facing a large flat-screen television mounted on the opposite wall, which was currently displaying a paused documentary.

To your left was a sleek black coffee table adorned with a stack of magazines and books, including some of Rohan's own publications. The bookshelves lining the walls were filled to the brim with novels, manga, and art books. You could see that Rohan had an extensive collection of literature and graphic novels, many of which you had also heard of before.

As you took in the details of the room, you couldn't help but feel a little out of place. The decor was far too extravagant and not to your taste. It was clear that Rohan had a penchant for luxury, and you couldn't help but wonder how much he had spent on the furnishings and artwork.

"Why are we at your house?" you asked, confused.

Rohan looked at you with a sly smirk, "Well, you passed out, so I brought you here to rest. And, of course, to get some more information about you."

You groaned, "I can't believe you did it again. I thought we had an agreement."

Rohan's smile faded slightly, "I'm sorry, Y/n. But I had to know. There's something strange going on, and I need to protect myself and those close to me." he paused, “Simply put, you.”

You let out a deep sigh of frustration. Rohan's behavior was so unpredictable, one moment he was teasing and mocking you, the next he claimed to be there to protect you. It was difficult for you to decipher what his true intentions were, especially in your current emotional state. You felt confused and conflicted, not knowing what or who to believe. It was as if Rohan was playing a constant game of tug-of-war with your emotions while you desperately wanted to trust him.

"I understand that, but you can't just go around invading people's privacy like that. It's not right." you finally say.

Rohan nodded, "I know, and I promise not to do it again. But, let's focus on the actual useful information I found. You were asking about the house, right?"

You nodded, "Yes, please tell me what you found."

Rohan's expression was grave, indicating that what he had to say was of great importance. "I cannot determine if the house is a stand or if it is genuinely haunted by the spirits of the cemetery. However, when I used Heaven's Door on you, I only found information from the evening, none of your past. These pages were blank," he explained.

He propped his hand on his chin, looking contemplative. "I couldn't sleep, so I decided to explore the house thoroughly to see if I could find any clues. But I came up empty-handed. However, I believe the house is feeding off of you. To test my theory, I brought you here, and indeed, your past came back on the pages," he continued, his eyes studying you closely.

You listened to him intently, a mixture of fear and curiosity gnawing at your insides. "What do you mean, the house is feeding off of me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rohan let out a deep sigh. "I don't know. It's just a theory for now. But I believe that the house is somehow drawing on your memories, possibly to sustain itself or grow stronger. Maybe even digest you with time," he explained, his gaze never leaving you.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. "What are we going to do?" you asked, feeling a shiver run down your spine.

Rohan's expression softened slightly as he reached out and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We'll figure it out together. I won't let anything happen to you," he promised, his eyes holding yours.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of confusion and surprise at the way Rohan was acting. The Rohan you had known for years was confident, charismatic, and always seemed to be in control. He could be sharp-tongued and cutting, and never hesitated to use his wit to put others in their place. But this Rohan, the one who was being gentle and supportive, was a side of him you had never seen before.

As you thought about it, you realized that you had never really seen him in private before. You had only ever seen him in public, where he was always performing for others. But now, in this private moment, he was showing you a side of himself that was vulnerable and caring.

You couldn't help but wonder what had brought about this change in him. Was it your current situation that had softened him? Or was he simply revealing a side of himself that he had kept hidden from others?

Either way, you found yourself grateful for his kindness and support. It made you feel less alone in this strange, unsettling situation.

"Tomorrow, Koichi and I will go and get your affairs. And while we sort it out, you'll live here. Unlike you, because I'm objectively wealthier, I have a guest room you can stay in," he explained, looking at you with a serious expression.

You couldn't believe it. Rohan, who had always treated you with disdain and ridicule, was now offering you a place to stay and helping you with your problems. You felt tears forming in your eyes, but this time they were tears of relief and gratitude.

"Thank you Rohan, thank you very much," you said, your voice cracking with emotion.

And under the emotion, you took him in your arms. As you hugged him, you felt the tension in your body slowly begin to dissipate. It was as if the weight of the situation was lifting off your shoulders, and you were grateful for Rohan's support. You held him tightly, trying to convey the depth of your gratitude.

At first, he didn't react much to your embrace, and you could feel his body tensing up under your touch. It was clear that Rohan was not used to physical affection, and you wondered how often he allowed himself to be vulnerable like this. However, after a few moments, he wrapped his arms around your waist, his hold initially awkward and unsure. But then, gradually, his embrace became firmer, and you could feel him drawing you closer.

He rested his chin on the top of your head, and you could feel his breath on your hair. For a few moments, you simply held each other, neither of you speaking. You felt a sense of comfort in his embrace, and it was almost as if the two of you were connected in a way that went beyond words.

Eventually, Rohan let out a small sigh, and you could feel him relaxing his hold on you slightly. It was as if he was still uncertain about showing this level of affection, but he didn't want to push you away rudely. So you did it for him, pulling yourself back slightly, looking up at him, and you could see a faint blush on his cheeks.

"I'm doing all this for my manga, don't get any ideas," he said, his tone teasing but also a little guarded.

You couldn't help but laugh, even though your voice was muffled by your sobs. "Of course," you said, smiling up at him. Despite his attempt to downplay the moment, you knew that Rohan was genuinely there for you, and you were grateful for his support.

Morioh, Rohan’s house, 5 pm.

As the days passed, you settled into Rohan's home, gradually becoming more comfortable with your living situation. You discovered that he was not the arrogant, unfeeling man he had initially portrayed himself as, but rather someone who was fiercely passionate about his work and those he cared about.

You both spent long hours talking about everything under the sun, sharing your hopes, fears, and dreams. You found yourself admiring him, his sharp wit and intelligence, his strong will and determination.

Despite knowing that your feelings for him were forbidden, you couldn't help but fall for him. You tried to push these feelings aside, but the more time you spent with him, the more difficult it became to ignore the pull you felt towards him. You found yourself anticipating his presence, longing to hear his voice and see his face.

Your heart would flutter whenever he touched you, even if it was just a brief brush of his hand, and you found yourself daydreaming about him more and more often. You knew that the consequences of acting on your feelings could be disastrous, but it was hard to resist the allure of this man who had become your friend, your enemy, and your protector all at once.

Despite your internal struggles, your time at Rohan's house was the happiest you had been in a while. You felt safe and protected, surrounded by his lavish lifestyle and the comforts of his home. He had even shown you around his private studio, where he spent countless hours creating his manga masterpieces. The walls were lined with sketches and drawings, each one a testament to his talent and creativity.

As you spent more time at Rohan's house, you began to notice more of his quirks and idiosyncrasies. He was a man who held himself to a high standard, sometimes to the point of being overly critical of his own work. You admired his dedication and attention to detail, but it also meant that he could be a perfectionist at times.

Despite this, Rohan was also surprisingly sensitive and empathetic. You had caught him watching sad movies by himself late at night, and he would sometimes open up to you about his own personal struggles. Seeing this vulnerable side of him made your heart ache with compassion and understanding.

As your feelings for him grew, you couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same way. You caught him looking at you sometimes, his piercing gaze making your heart race. But then he would quickly look away, as if embarrassed.

The tension between you two was more palpable than ever, but neither of you dared to cross the line. You knew it was forbidden to feel this way, but you couldn't help it. Rohan had become such an important part of your life, and you couldn't imagine living without him.

However, your happiness was short-lived.

"Y/n?" Rohan called out from the doorway to find out where you were.

As you basked in the warmth of the sun, enjoying your soda and engrossed in your manga, Rohan's voice calling your name jolted you back to reality. You quickly set your manga down and turned your gaze towards the inside of the house, "I'm outside!" you replied, calling back from one of the outdoor patio chairs where you sat.

As he walked towards you. His usually calm and collected demeanor was replaced with an air of agitation that made you uneasy.

As he sat down beside you, you couldn't help but notice that he was empty-handed, a rare occurrence for him after a shopping trip. You knew Rohan was an avid collector of books and that he rarely returned from a trip without a few new additions to his already extensive library.

"Is something wrong?" you asked him, concern etched on your face.

"I have managed to crack the secret of your house. I lied to you, I didn't want to worry you. But it's all cleared up," Rohan said, his voice low.

The news hit you like a ton of bricks. You were stunned, unable to process the implications of what Rohan had just revealed. Your mind was racing with questions, wondering how he could have possibly uncovered the secret of your house.

"Wait, what do you mean?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly with fear and anxiety.

Rohan took a deep breath, his expression serious and grave. "There was a box hidden within the walls," he explained. "It was trapped, and it contained the souls of everyone who ever lived in the house. It was probably put there as revenge for desecrating a cemetery."

Your heart sank at the thought of the trapped souls, and you felt a chill run down your spine. It was a terrifying concept, and you couldn't believe that something like that could have been hidden in your house, how many people had disappeared because of it.

"I destroyed it after studying it," Rohan announced, pulling out a sheet of paper from his bag. He handed it to you, and as you looked closer, you saw that it was a series of intricate sketches of the box from various angles. The level of detail was impressive, and even as a drawing, the box looked ominous and unsettling.

You couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine as you gazed at the sketches, trying to imagine what it must have been like to come face to face with such a terrifying artifact. "This is what was trying to ingest your soul,” Rohan teased with a smirk, his eyes sparkling mischievously. The comment sent a chill through you, but you couldn't help but appreciate the humor in his tone.

Relief washed over you, and you couldn't help but let out a small sigh. "Thank you, Rohan," you said, feeling a surge of gratitude towards him. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

Rohan let out a small huff, and a hint of a smile played at the corner of his lips. "You don't have to thank me," he replied in a casual tone, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

You couldn't help but laugh as you listened to Rohan's response. His usual detached and arrogant attitude had been stripped away, and you could sense a newfound sincerity in his words. Knowing the lengths he had gone to solve the mystery of your house, you found his remarks more endearing than annoying.

"Well, I still want to thank you. You saved me from a lot of trouble," you said, smiling at him.

Rohan's smirk grew a little wider at your words. "It was a minor inconvenience, really," he said, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms above his head. "Besides, I'm always up for a good mystery to solve."

You chuckled, glad that he was taking it so well. "Well, I'm just glad it's over. I can finally go home." You tried to hide the reluctance in your voice.

Rohan's smirk turned mischievous as he leaned towards you. "But do you really want to leave? You could stay here with me, you know." He winked at you, causing you to roll your eyes and laugh.

"Nice try, Rohan. But I think it's time for me to go home and stop bothering you with my insufferable presence." You stood up from the chair. "Thank you again for taking care of everything."

Rohan stood up as well, "I think, Y/n, you have forgotten our deal." He put his hand on your shoulder to stop you.

It's been a while now, and with everything that's been going on lately, you've forgotten the original agreement. "I have to help you with your manga, right?"

“Yes,” Rohan spoke calmly as he leaned in towards you, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close to him. You felt the warmth of his body against yours, the heat of the summer sun adding to the sensation. You could smell his expensive cologne, a pleasant scent that mixed with the fresh air and the nearby flowers.

As you stood there in Rohan's embrace, you couldn't help but notice the way his body felt against yours. The warmth of his bare skin, the firmness of his muscles, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each breath he took.

His hold was firm but not overpowering, allowing you to move slightly if you wanted to, but you knew he wouldn't let go unless he had to. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, allowing yourself to be enveloped in his warmth.

Since the night he brought you to his house, you hadn't been this close to him again. Sometimes you would sit on the sofa together, watching a film or a documentary, or chatting about random things.

Sometimes you would cook together in the kitchen, trying out new recipes and enjoying each other's company. But nothing like this.

It was strange, you thought to yourself, how this moment could feel so intimate. If he too was aware of the way his body was pressed against yours, of the way your heartbeats seemed to sync up. But you didn't dare ask, afraid of what his answer might be.

"Since I solved the case of your house, technically, you can't refuse me anything." Rohan's voice interrupted your thoughts. His breath hitched in your neck, reminding you of the proximity. The warmth of his body pressed against you, making it difficult to focus on anything else. His grip tightened, holding you in place.

There was nothing romantic or sympathetic about his words. It was a reminder that there was an arrangement, almost professional in its nature. It was all calculated. Just when you were beginning to think he had a kind heart...

"You did all this... In order to use the agreement to get your way?" You asked, disappointed.

Rohan just chuckled, still holding you close. "You've already helped me a lot, you know. I needed to add a strong female character to my manga, and having you by my side lately has given me everything I needed."

As he spoke, his left hand roamed your back dangerously, exploring every single inch. Being in a tank top because of the heat, it didn't take him long to find your bare skin underneath. The sensation of his fingers tracing patterns on your skin sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch.

"I could see your character, your habits, but I didn't get a chance to feel your body." He smiled, his thumb running over your lips with his free hand, “Or your lips, I wonder how they taste…”. You could feel your heart racing in your chest as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin.

As much as you tried to resist, there was something undeniably attractive about him. The way he held you, the way he spoke, the way his touch sent electric currents through your body - it was all too much to ignore.

But you couldn't let him have his way. "That doesn't mean you can just do whatever you want," you said, trying to sound strong and assertive despite the butterflies in your stomach.

Rohan chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. "Of course not, my dear. But it does mean that you owe me a favor or two." He leaned in even closer, his lips almost touching yours. "And who knows what else I might need from you in the future."

You were acutely aware of the tension building between you and Rohan. His confident and arrogant demeanor had always been a turn-on for you, but you also knew that giving in to him would mean crossing a line you might not be able to come back from. It was a dangerous game you were playing, but one that you couldn't seem to resist.

"Rohan, this isn't what we agreed on," you said firmly, trying to ignore the way your body was begging for more. "I agreed to be a model of observation to satisfy your curiosity and help feed your manga. But this...this isn't part of the deal." It was not how you imagined things would develop.

Rohan just smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Who said anything about agreements?" he said, his hand still hovering close to your skin. His teasing was torture, and he knew it. "I'm just a man who knows what he wants, and right now, what I want is you."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "You can't just change the rules like that. It's not fair to me," you said, your voice firm. "Besides, I'm not just some character in your manga. I'm a real person with feelings and desires, and I won't be treated like an object."

Rohan's smile faded slightly, and for a moment, you thought he might back down. But then he leaned in closer, his breath hot on your lips. "I know you're more than just a character," he whispered. "And I promise to treat you with the respect you deserve. But right now, I can't resist you."

"Why do you always have to be so smug?" you retorted, trying to mask the wavering in your voice. "I don't want to complicate things between us."

Rohan held you closer, his hand reaching up to caress your cheek. "Complication is what makes life interesting," he said softly, looking directly at you.

You could feel his body pressing against yours, his hand now firmly on your waist. Despite your better judgment, a part of you couldn't deny the attraction you felt for him. "I can't do this, Rohan," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't let things go any further between us. It's not right." You tried to resist, in vain.

You could feel his breath on your skin, warm and inviting. His eyes were fixed on yours, dark and intense, as if they were trying to read your deepest desires. You knew he could see right through your lies, and it was infuriating.

"Stop trying to fight it," he said, his voice low and husky. "You know you want this as much as I do."

You shook your head, trying to push him away. "This is wrong, we are enemies," you protested weakly, but your body betrayed you as it leaned into him.

He chuckled, his lips curving into a devilish grin. "Wrong? Who says what's wrong or right? I can feel the heat between us. Don't pretend like you can't."

His hands traced lazy circles on your back, sending shivers down your spine. You closed your eyes, trying to push away the dirty thoughts that were flooding your mind. This was a mistake. You had agreed to help him with his manga if he would with your house, but you never intended for things to go this far. Yet here you were, in his arms, giving in to his every touch and caress.

"Rohan, please," you whispered, but he didn't stop. Instead, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing this time against your ear.

"Please what?" he murmured, his voice sending chills down your spine. "Please stop? Please keep going?"

Under his touch, your resolve began to crumble as the heat from his body wrapped around you like a cocoon. The attraction between you two was palpable, almost suffocating, and you could feel your heart racing in your chest. You knew it was only a matter of time before you surrendered completely to him.

"Please, keep going..." You whispered, your voice barely above a breathy sigh.

You felt your heart racing as his lips met yours in a searing kiss, his hands traveling down your body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Your body was responding to his touch in ways you never thought possible, and the chemistry between you was undeniable.

As you melted into his embrace, you could feel all thoughts and worries of the past few days slipping away. The only thing that mattered was the passion and desire that coursed through your veins. You were completely consumed by the intensity of your feelings for him, and you knew that there was no turning back.

His kisses were extremely demanding, but you responded eagerly, your own desire building with each passing moment. The intensity of the connection that had been brewing for so long, was finally released.

As his hands explored your body, you couldn't help but arch into him, wanting more of his touch. You knew that this was dangerous territory, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop. The pull towards him was too strong, and you knew that you would do whatever it took to be with him.

You were lost in the moment, consumed by the intensity of your feelings for him. The world around you faded away as you gave in completely to the heat, reveling in the passion that you shared.

Rohan's toned arms wrapped around your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly and carrying you to the table. You gasped at the sudden movement, feeling a jolt of excitement shoot through you. You were taken aback by his sudden boldness, but couldn't deny the thrill it sent through your body.

Sitting on the table, you felt a rush of cool air hit your back as Rohan's warm body pressed up against yours once again. His lips captured yours again, his tongue slipping past your lips this time, teasing and caressing, exploring your mouth with a hunger that took your breath away.

Despite the rush of passion, a part of you couldn't help but feel self-conscious. You were still outside on the patio of his house, with the possibility of being seen by anyone who happened to walk by. But Rohan didn't seem to care, his hands wandering freely over your body, caressing every curve and dip.

His touch sends shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but moan into his mouth. The sound only seemed to spur him on, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and exposing your bare stomach and chest to the cool night air. Your hands found their way to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as you pulled him even closer.

Finally, when the need for air became too much, you both pulled back, gasping for breath. You looked into each other's eyes, the intensity of the moment still lingering between you. It was clear that neither of you wanted to stop there, but for now, you both settled for the electric touch of your bodies as you sat on the table, lost in each other's embrace.

"Perfect and delightful," he said, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction. Rohan's satisfied expression only added to the intensity of the moment, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at having pleased him. As he wiped the drool from his mouth with his thumb, he added, "See, you can help me when you put your mind to it."

His gaze was different from his usual arrogant demeanor, and you could feel the affection and happiness radiating from him. It made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn't help but blush under his gaze. Despite his good looks and charm, you always tried to keep your distance, but in this moment, you couldn't help but admire him.

"If it really helps..." you trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

He chuckled at your shyness. "Of course it does. You have a really beautiful face, your voice is perfect, and your skin is soft." He paused for a moment, studying your face. "You know, you're not just helping me with my manga. You're also helping me become a better artist."

"I'm glad I can help," you said softly, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

And then, his hands landed softly on your chest, their feather-light touch sending shivers down your spine. Despite the gentle caress, there was a hint of cruelty in his expertise, as if he was toying with your nipples just to see how far he could push you. The way he moved his hands with such precision and care made you feel like you were a rare and precious work of art, and your heart raced with the intensity of the moment.

You couldn't help but notice the way he studied you, his eyes taking in every inch of your body as if committing it to memory. It was as if he was learning every curve, every line, every inch of you. The attention he gave you was exhilarating.

As his fingers traced delicate patterns across your chest, you felt your breath catch in your throat. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn't help but let out a soft moan. He seemed to revel in your reaction, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he continued his exploration.

It was as if he was in a trance, lost in the sensation of touching you, and you couldn't help but feel like you were under his spell. His touch was delicate yet powerful, pinching your nipples and caressing your skin, a perfect balance of tenderness and domination that left you craving.

Rohan's hand continued its relentless exploration, moving down your stomach, to the edge of your inner thigh. His fingers were soft and delicate against your skin. You tried to resist, but your body betrayed you, responding eagerly to his touch.

"Y/n, darling," he said huskily, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear. "And I love how much power I have over you."

His words sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips. You were helpless under his touch, completely at his mercy.

"Rohan, please," you gasped, but your protests were half-hearted at best, you were almost begging him at this point. Deep down, you didn't really want him to stop. You desperately wanted him to keep going, to take you to heights of pleasure that you had never experienced before.

And as his fingers slipped under the waistband of your shorts, you knew that there was no turning back. Rohan's fingers traced the edge of your panty, teasingly brushing against the wetness of it. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and you found yourself arching towards him, silently begging for more.

"God, you're so beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot against your neck. "I could spend hours exploring every inch of you."

You moaned in response, your mind foggy with desire. His touch was sending shivers down your spine, and you felt like you were on the brink of something incredible.

"Please, Rohan," you whispered, unable to form a coherent sentence. "I need you."

You couldn't control the sounds that escaped your lips as Rohan's fingers slipped ast your panty, delving deeply inside you. The sensations were overwhelming, and you felt like you were on the brink of losing yourself completely to him. His expert touch was electric, and you couldn't help but writhe and moan beneath him.

He leaned in closer, pressing his lips to your ear, "You feel so good, baby. So tight and wet for me," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. His words only served to heighten the intensity of the moment, sending you spiraling further into ecstasy.

You were soaking wet at this point, drenched for him. His finger stroked your insides, his thumb brushed against your sensitive bundle of nerves while his lips lingered on your breasts, placing numerous small kisses with a certain amount of hunger.

As he added a second finger, your body responded eagerly, your legs tightening around him, trapping him against the table and your body. Your insides softened further, the stretching of his fingers was astounding. You were completely consumed by the pleasure he was giving you, and you wanted nothing more than to surrender yourself to him completely.

"You're doing so well, my good girl," Rohan hummed, his breath hot against your skin as he continued his relentless assault on your body. "Perfect for me."

And as he added a third finger, the stretching of your insides was almost overwhelming. His fingers shattered everything, all the common sense you had in you. You wanted him to ruin you with his love. In a manner as violent as the emotions you had for each other.

With each additional finger, your insides were stretched beyond your wildest imagination. Rohan's dexterity was almost unbelievable as his fingers moved in and out of you teasing your most sensitive spots, his thumb brushing expertly against your sensitive bundle of nerves. He kissed his way up your neck, placing numerous small kisses, while you writhed beneath him, completely under his spell.

With each movement of his fingers, you felt yourself edging closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. You were so close that it was almost painful, and you couldn't help but moan his name, begging him to take you over the edge.

As if sensing your imminent release, Rohan increased the pressure of his fingers and his thumb, sending you over the edge with a loud cry. You came hard, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm.

And as he finally pushed you over the edge, your body convulsed with pleasure. You were lost in the sensation, completely consumed by the intensity of your feelings for him.

But even as your body was wracked with pleasure, you knew that you wanted more. You wanted Rohan to continue his ministries, to take you to even greater heights of pleasure. You were completely under his spell, lost in the ecstasy of his touch. Your eyes fluttered open, and you looked up at him, feeling completely vulnerable and exposed, yet strangely safe in his arms.

"You're amazing," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I want more."

As your body slowly came down from the heights of pleasure, you couldn't help but feel a sense of submission to him. You knew that you would do anything for Rohan, no matter how frightening or dangerous it might be. You were completely his, consumed by the intensity of your feelings for him.

Rohan's eyes bore into yours as he slowly withdrew his fingers from inside you, leaving you feeling empty and wanting. This left you with a void that bothered you. But his smug smile told you that he was pleased to see you in such a messy and desperate state, begging for more of his touch.

But Rohan wasted no time in bringing his fingers to his mouth,, you couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine. The way he savored the taste of your essence, his tongue running between his fingers to clean them, was extremely erotic and perverse. His tongue ran between his fingers, cleaning them of your essence as he tasted you. It was an incredibly intimate act. You couldn't help but watch in fascination as he licked his fingers clean, his eyes never leaving yours.

The way he looked at you made you feel like the only person in the world, like he couldn't get enough of you. And as he slowly removed his fingers from his mouth, you knew that he was far from finished with you.

He leaned in so close that you could feel his breath on your lips, sending shivers down your spine. As his words flowed over you like warm honey, you felt a wave of desire wash over you. "You taste so delicious," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours. "I could do this all day."

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips claiming yours in a deep, passionate kiss. You melted against him, your body responding to his touch like it always did.

But as quickly as the moment began, it was over. Rohan pulled away, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "However," he said, his voice low and husky. "I have to go and draw all this to make sure I'm not missing any details."

You looked at him in disbelief. "Are you going to leave me like this?" you protested.

He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent shivers through you. "We might be seen," he replied, his eyes scanning the area around you. "You're moaning quite loudly, darling."

You blushed, embarrassed by your own lack of self-control. He put your shirt and shorts back on, his touch gentle and comforting. "But I didn't say you were finished helping me," he said, his eyes locking onto yours. "Even if you don't live with me anymore, I hope you'll come often," he added, his tone turning playful. “You are always welcome,”

You wanted to protest, to tell him that you couldn't keep doing this, that it was too much for your heart to handle. But before you could say anything, Rohan kissed you again, his lips silencing your words. And then he was gone, disappearing inside the building to continue his work.

You were left standing there, feeling a mix of frustration, desire, and confusion. You pouted, the words "I hate you" escaping your lips in a soft whisper. But even as you said them, you knew that they weren't true. You didn't hate Rohan - quite the opposite.

#rohan kishibe x reader #rohan kishibe #rohan kishibe smut #jjba x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba smut #jojo

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bonebreakz · 10 months

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Teenager things [Josuke x Fem!Reader]

Warnings: Mentions of bullying, reader has a female body.

Note: a bit self indulgent as the reader is portrayed with a chubbier/curvier body. This WILL have a part 2 because hell it's big..

Josuke always considered himself a more romantic kind of guy, the one who'd only date whoever he truly loved. You were his - if not first - big crush, and boy did he get so hot and bothered whenever you were around. Something about you drove him crazy but he never could describe it, so whenever he commented on your appearance in some kind of way with his friends Okuyasu and Koichi they immediantly took notice of his behaviour towards you and tried making him show his feelings for you, which always failed because he'd refuse to go any further because of his nervousness. They knew you two would come around eventually, waiting until Josuke realised his feelings were mutual.

"This is going to be so fun! I'm ready to kick some ass!" Okuyasu cheered as he clenched his fists together. "I wish i could play with you guys..Ill be rooting for you though!" Exclaimed Koichi as he had Yukako holding him close, he had broken his arm in a previous accident and had a cast on. The day was where the schools had a basketball game against the other teams from other cities, Josuke and Okuyasu were on Morioh High's team, and while Okuyasu was pretty excited for the game, Josuke was a bit more nervous but still determined. When the time came for the game to start, he noticed groups of girls reunited in the both opposite sides of the court, which were cheerleaders! You were on the right side, settling in your position to begin, while you adjusted the tight clothes in your form, you heard snickers coming from the other girls on your side and on the opposite, which led you to sigh annoyedly - and also saddened - in reponse to their mocking ways about your figure.The game went on and you were cheering with the team, when Josuke finally noticed you were on cheering his heart rate skyrocketed like never before, you looked astoningshingly gorgeous in his eyes - especially in that outfit - and in the brief moment he was moving it was if time slowed down so he could take a moment to appreciate you. Your gazes met and it was time for you to blush, and that short moment of eye contact with you was what made him even more etermined to win that game, because he knew you were cheering for - him - his team.

After what seemeed like hours of endless jumping, screaming and swinging pompoms the game was finally over, it was exhausting for you so when you heard the whistle you stopped immediantly to catch your breath, when you did you looked up to the scoreboard and your lips curled in a relieved smile as you saw Morioh High won the basketball game. Your gaze was driven to where Josuke was, with his friends and classmates as they congratulated their victory, you could see how huge the grin in his face was, how his skin glistened with the droplets of sweat rolling down and eventually to his soaked shirt where your eyes were graced by the brief lining of his toned body under his clothes. You shook your head with a red face to drive away the thoughts, walking to the dressing room so you could take off that damned cheerleader outfit. Entering, you noticed there were already some girls there, and as you changed you could hear their whispers. "I can't believe how they let someone as horrendous as her get in the cheerleading team." One of them said while applying her eyeshadow. "Did you see how her belly bounced when she jumped?" Another of them snickered, you were tired of hearing those things said about you over and over again, quickly finishing putting your clothes on and heading off the changing room.

-to be continued...

#jjba x reader #jojo #jojo x reader #character x reader #josuke higashitaka #josuke x reader #jojo josuke #diu #jjba diu #jojo diamond is unbreakable #jojo no kimyou na bouken #female reader #fem reader #x reader #x you #afab reader #chubby reader

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fauzhee10069 · 1 year

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TGCF map?

While I’m writing a fic and looking for a map, I found this fan made map on reddit thread:

Source: a reddit thread

Unlike the map in MDZS, this fan-made map of TGCF is like any other map in fantasy settings (eg LOTR, Final Fantasy series, anime One Piece/HxH, etc).

But what if the TGCF world itself uses China map as reference like in the MDZS?

Because there is one location that also exists in the real world, namely: the Gobi Desert.

Ke‌ ‌Mo‌ ‌demanded, “Our‌ ‌kingdom‌ ‌had‌ ‌disappeared‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌Gobi‌ ‌for‌ ‌over‌ ‌two‌ ‌hundred‌ years.‌ ‌You‌ ‌are‌ ‌not‌ ‌of‌ ‌our‌ ‌people, why‌ ‌do‌ ‌you‌ ‌know‌ ‌our‌ ‌tongue? ‌Who‌ ‌are‌ ‌you?”‌ (TGCF chapter 24)

Xie‌ ‌Lian‌ ‌immediately‌ ‌said,‌ ‌“General‌ ‌Ke‌ ‌Mo,‌ ‌I‌ ‌think‌ ‌you’ve‌ ‌mistaken‌ ‌something.‌ ‌We’ve‌ traveled‌ ‌across‌ ‌the‌ ‌Gobi‌ ‌desert‌ ‌to‌ ‌get‌ ‌rid‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌Guoshi‌ ‌of‌ ‌Banyue,‌ ‌how‌ ‌can‌ ‌we‌ ‌be‌ ‌the‌ helpers‌ ‌she‌ ‌sent‌ ‌for?”‌ (TGCF chapter 26)

And here is the location of Gobi desert:

So I want to try guessing the locations in TGCF are, which, although the names are fictional, are based on real locations.

Like Morioh and S city in JoJo which are said to be based on Sendai, Miyagi prefecture.

Before proceeding, remember that this is a fan-made and not a serious project either. This is purely headcanon so you are free to agree or disagree, if you prefer your own headcanon then so be it.

First, regarding the location of Mount Tonglu (Wuyong), I was looking for a map showing the locations of volcanoes in China and found this:

However, I didn't really check the history of these mountains, so I more or less made up the location of Mt. Tonglu here:

The map above is for the event circa 2000 years ago, since volcano eruptions by a single mountain was capable to buried the entire Wuyong kingdom, it made me think that Wuyong's territory wasn't that big.

Besides that, I was inspired by the "No Paths Are Bound" fanfic which brought Xianle into the history of Wuyong. Moreover, it was mentioned that for the people of Wuyong, they tried to invade other kingdoms to take over their land & have their people move in. Thus, I’ve made Xianle and Xuli bordered Wuyong.

Most readers believe that Xuli was located in the north, considering Pei Ming's domain (although I don't think it really has to be, because Xuli kingdom had already fallen during present time which I think, its location is no longer necessary where).

There is also Zhaoyi, my made up kingdom for my fic (therefore, not canon). I was inspired by the timeline of the Xia dynasty era where the royal territory was not as big as during imperial era, so I also made Xianle’s territory quite small as well.

Generally in every dynasty there is always territorial upheaval which often ends with one dynasty overthrowing another. In this fanfic of mine, I want to make sure that the Zhaoyi kingdom will be absorbed by Xianle. Yong'an itself was part of another country in the past which will be taken by Xianle.

The old capital of Zhaoyi is Qiyi. Qiyi itself is actually the old name of Qishan. Again, I got inspired by NPAB to incorporate MDZS’ places in TGCF. The name 'Zhaoyi' itself is taken from the history of Qishan County in the Spring and Autumn period during King Wu’s reign (Zhou dynasty) as one of its state; Shao (召 or 邵).

Regarding Lang’er bay location, I’ve made it based on Qinghai lake. Wait a minute, why the lake? Isn’t it a bay? The initial fan-made map is correct in seeing the concept of Lang'er bay as a ‘truly bay’. But I want to match the location of Lang'er bay to the map of China, which according to TGCF, located to the west of Xianle. The problem is, to the west of China there are no bays! Therefore, I tried to redefine the word 'bay' and I came up with this:

Thunder Bay! According to wiki, Thunder Bay is a large bay on the northern shore of Lake Superior, in Thunder Bay District, Ontario, Canada.

In addition, in Qinghai Lake itself there is a spot called “Fairy Bay Area”.

Years later, Wuyong had fallen, its territory was absorbed by Xuli. Xianle itself was expanding its territory and managed to seize part of Zhaoyi's. Zhaoyi moved the capital in unknown location (presumably around Yong’an, which still belonged to said kingdom). Also, moving the capital was a common thing to do since a long time ago.

During this time, Banyue and Yushi were found. It is noted that Banyue was located around Gobi desert and Yushi was a kingdom far to the south of Xianle. The blank territory between Xianle and Yushi can be filled with any random countries.

As time went by, Xianle and Xuli were keep growing. The Zhaoyi Kingdom finally fell and Yong'an officially became a part of Xianle. Despite that, some remnants of Zhaoyi still exist as autonomous zone led by rebels.

Circa 800 years ago, Yushi eventually fell and became part of Xuli's territory. You can see how ambitious Xuli country was back then (like the Mongol empire). Xianle itself began to clash with Xuli and managed to seize part of its territory. However during this tension, Banyue took its chance to absorb the autonomous zone of Zhaoyi. More places are revealed.

Less than a decade later, the fall of Xianle happened as a result of the civil war with the Yong'an rebels. Feng Xin mentioned that Yong'an obtained help from other countries secretly. Thus, given the tension between Xianle and Xuli, I presumed that it was Xuli who was secretly helping Yong'an (and also some of the rebel descendants of Zhaoyi who held grudges against Xianle). Actually some of the Xuli people prayed to Pei Ming, but Pei Ming paid no heed, considering that King of Xuli at that time made him break his sword.

During this time, there was a new dynasty that was starting to grow which would become the home country of Shi Wudu, Shi Qingxuan and He Xuan.

The decline of Xuli was starting to happen, as Yong’an and the unnamed country absorbed some of its territories. Yushi's region was eventually taken over by the unnamed country. Yong'an itself became a bigger country than Xianle, its territory reached the eastern edge (which would become Lang Qianqiu's domain later).

The location of Mount Yujun is revealed. Mount Yujun itself is said to be in Pei Ming's domain (north), because we already believe that Xuli is in the north, then Mount Yujun itself is located in Xuli.

Xuli had finally fallen while Banyue itself kept growing. Ling Wen and Pei Ming were responsible for the fall of their own kingdom (lol), I thought the latter agreed to participate because he saw how corrupt his nation had become. Xuli is then divided into several countries which I don’t bother to name and set the regional boundaries.

Circa 200 years ago, Banyue eventually was eradicated by Yong’an. Some years ago (it was not necessary to coincide with the fall of Banyue), the Black Water Demon Lair was discovered. According to TGCF, Black Water Demon Lair is located in the South Sea.

In the southern part of China there is a tropical island called Hainan, a place that I think is suitable for Black Water Island. In the middle of Black Water Island, there is Black Water Lake, and coincidentally:

On the island of Hainan there is also a lake. In the middle of the lake, there is also a small island that I actually wanted to make the location of the Nether Water Manor on, but I just remembered that the manor is like being in separated dimension (iirc underwater inside the lake).

Finally, Yong'an nation also fell and was divided into several countries (which again, I careless to name and set their territories). More places relevant to the plot are revealed (including the MDZS’ one as a tribute to NPAB). In the end, the largest country is Shi Qingxuan’s unnamed country (lol), and also in the Himalayan region there are several unnamed countries.

Interestingly, in the present timeline of TGCF, there aren’t named countries that are still standing.

Specifically below is a map showing the domains of the martial gods:

The domain divisions are purely made up and not based on regional divisions used IRL.

Thank you to those of you who have read up to here. I made this not to ridicule the fantasy map, not at all. In fact I think the TGCF storyline will be more in line with the fantasy map. It's just that I was challenged to use a map of China thanks to the existence of 'Gobi Desert' the novel mentioned.

#tgcf map #tian guan ci fu #tgcf meta #china map #fan made theory #my headcanon #mxtx crossover #alternate universe #heaven official's blessing #no paths are bound #loss of history

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maraschino-girl · 4 months

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pachinko 🎰 { part 1 }

✐ Yoshikage Kira makes a gamble when New York City becomes his new hunting ground, and he soon realizes the prize he's heading toward isn't the one he bargained for. Yoshikage Kira / Patrick Bateman

moriohpsycho AU

~6k words

multi-chapter, 80's-90's era

blood and gore, homophobia, drug use, explicit content

warning ‼️ two depraved serial killers being themselves

✦ NOTES : i have no words... except idk how this happened LMFAO ♡✮☁️✧˖ AO3 °⋆💿。°✩

My name is Yoshikage Kira. First name is Yoshikage. Last name is Kira. I’m partially named after my father, and I was considered his pride and joy.

I’m 33-years-old, not married, and I used to live in the villas of Morioh. I had worked in Kame-yu Department regional management office. It was menial work but I enjoyed it. It was repetitive, it was a routine, it was predictable. I lived a quiet, humble life. My favorite movie is The Remains of the Day, and my favorite designer brands include Valentino and Gianfranco Ferré.

I no longer reside in Japan due to an incident, one I prefer to not discuss at this moment, but this little incident forced me to flee my town and take refuge somewhere where those ants can’t find me. They can’t find me anyhow, all thanks to my Bites the Dust, though despite this, I’m cashing in my insurance just in case.

If I had to pick any city in the world, I wouldn’t say New York City was my first choice; it’s an overwhelming, bustling metropolis with eyes everywhere, both robotic and human, and from what I’ve heard, riddled with crime and filth. But, I’ve soon learned that it’s easy to be alone in a crowd, and there’s nothing wrong with ‘competition’, petty criminals who can take all those mechanical eyes off of me. They want to be seen, they want to be noticed and even hailed for their art. I do not. I have no need for it.

What I do need though is a way to perfectly mesh with this new crowd of mine, and this group of… what do you call them? Yuppies, preppies? Or, Ivy League brats if you’re bitter and sipping beer on the side of 5th Avenue (She had the most disgusting hands I’ve ever seen).

These preppy scholars and businessmen on Wall Street and inside Pierce & Pierce, my dwelling for the next whoever knows how long, adorn themselves with muted hues and statement accessories. I have to switch out my ‘lilacs’ and ‘baby blues’ for ‘eggplant’ and ‘elegant navies’. My ties at least can stay as far as I’m concerned; I’ve seen worse patterns on arguably more fashionable people.

Manhattan has a plethora of designer stores, so many in fact I’m on the verge of an anxiety attack. I’ve had a painful lunch with a Charles McBride, an audacious man but a colleague first and foremost, and I tried to discuss the plans for the fiscal quarter but he wasn’t having it– the entire conversation replays in my head while I’m attempting to maneuver the streets, only serving to worsening the panic inside me. Any store will do, any at all, and so I slip inside a Bergdorf Goodman. I nearly go in a circle due to the revolving doors but luckily no one catches my faux pas.

I didn’t know what a Bergdorf was, but now knowing it’s a department store relieves my anxiety.

Kimiko, my lady since I arrived in New York, hardly comforts me now when I entwine my fingers with hers, and the sickeningly sweet scent of rot is beginning to put me off, so I walk towards the fragrances.

I could get her something with notes of orange blossom and peony, or something sultry with cinnamon and leather, but that thought is cut short when a woman hunts me down from behind. I’m looking at the collection of Dior perfumes when she pops up, her voice extremely loud and shaky. A new girl, perhaps?

“Hello, sir! I see you’re checking out our Miss Dior! This is a very lovely perfume, suitable for the very lovely lady in your life! Um, would you like a sample?” She waves a thin white strip in front of me, and oh my god, her—

Spritz.

I gasp when the perfume incinerates my eyes, her string of apologies piercing my ears just as badly. She immediately fetches me a wet napkin, trying to help me rub my eyes but I yank the napkin away from her. Through my stinging, blurry vision, I hold up her right hand.

“That is a beautiful, uh, ruby ring you have on,” I swallow thickly, blinking frantically. “Sterling silver and ruby, very nice.” It’s a bead of blood atop of a milky white canvas, oh my.

“Why, thank you!” she gleams. I hold her gaze, enticing her, and forcefully crinkle my eyes. She has rather pretty eyes and a bright smile, albeit overlined with a crisp apple red. The red doesn’t shine as well on her face as it does around her fingers. Her name tag says ‘JENNIFER’.

Jennifer briefly checks me out, then scrunches her brow. “Gosh, I’m just a klutz today! I’m so sorry.”

“No need to apologize, really. Mistakes happen,” I reply, a tad confused, until she holds up Kimiko. My heart freezes, the blasting muzak slows down as she casually handles my now ex-girlfriend.

“Matthew, one of the assistants must’ve dropped this when setting up the display. We’re not usually so messy!”

The gold bangle I gifted Kimiko hides the jagged edges of her wrist, and her decomposition has sucked out the apricot tone she used to have. I continue to stare because frankly there’s nothing else I can do at this moment. Except, maybe cry— that’s a big possibility.

Jennifer giggles, “Listen, I’ll take this back to our storage and I’ll ring you up for the Miss Dior, yeah?”

I open my mouth but it takes great strength to speak. “Yes. Yeah, that’s fine. Um, are the registers near your storage?”

“Yeah, there’s one right by the cosmetics, if you don’t mind following me.”

“I don’t mind, no.” Go. Go! Go! Go! “I actually need to hurry to my office after this, so please, with haste.”

“Of course! C’mon, follow me.” She plucks a plastic-wrapped package of Miss Dior off the shelf and points toward the glossy collections of cosmetics. I ensure no one is really paying attention, and of course, the few patrons around are engrossed in their shopping.

Jennifer sets the item on the cash register and tells me she will be right back. I huff, and give one last sweep of the store, and trace her steps into the EMPLOYEES ONLY swing door. I don’t bother to hide my footfalls due to her heels echoing through the concrete maze of these back rooms. All I need is privacy, and I need something, anything to aid me, although simply choking her isn’t ruled out yet.

She doesn’t have a care in the world, doesn’t have a single instinct to look over her shoulder. There’s another door at the far end of the narrow hallway that she disappears into, and I’ll follow her there too, but first:

A giant sapphire and glass star-shaped perfume bottle on a wire shelf catches my attention. It’s asymmetrically shaped, and looks like it belongs atop a Christmas tree, but I deduce it must be for advertising purposes. It’s dense, sturdy, and particularly sharp. I may have had an incident but it seems my luck has yet to run out. This is not an ideal location, none of this is remotely ideal, but there’s not much to be done about it. Besides, Killer Queen didn’t gift me intelligence and charm, only an easy way out. I will do as I’ve always done and I will win.

I will do what it takes to retain my comfort and happiness, and live my life to the fullest.

✃ ✃ ✃

I’m having lunch with Patrick Bateman, a coworker, and his friends slash fellow coworkers Timothy Price, David Van Patten, and Craig McDermott at a “trendy” restaurant called Flamingo East. Apparently, a couple other bankers will be joining us but they have yet to do so; I’m fine with that.

I’m familiar with Mr. Bateman. He has the office right next to mine, but I see more of his secretary than I do of him. The scarce moments we share are somewhat bizarre, and I can’t quite place my finger on what exactly makes them bizarre, they just are. He’s cordial, refined, and narcissistic, much like the others— they’re a breed of their own, a species known only to the rich New England coast, but he still stands out. I’d like to say I’m perceptive, I have to be, and if I have suspicions about someone I’m usually correct.

I also notice that Mr. McDermott and I are wearing the same cologne, Drakkar Noir, a scent laden with lemon, mint, lavender, and bergamot. Either this cologne is thicker than I anticipated or he’s doused himself in it— either way, it’s comforting blending in.

I’m wearing a double breasted linen-and-cotton suit in the shade ‘imperial violet’, a subdued deep purple, a ‘nude periwinkle’ button down cotton shirt that looks off-white in this bright lighting, all by Cerruti 1881. My silk tie is by Alexander Julian, and it has a striped pattern in shades of ‘egg yolk’, ‘vanilla’, and ‘charcoal’; the pattern reminds me of the candy sticks in a sweets shop in Morioh. I met an ex-girlfriend there, now that I look back on it. She always bought matcha tea cakes, every day at 5 pm, like clockwork.

Well, there’s no time for nostalgia right now. I open the briefcase that’s sitting on my lap.

“Mr. Van Patten, I have papers regarding the—”

“Hey, hey,” he holds a hand up, “We’re not doing that right now.”

He then makes a neck-slicing gesture, probably telling me to shut up. He’s at least nicer than his friends. With his round glasses and round brown eyes, he looks borderline puppy dog-ish. I avert my eyes and purse my lips to avoid smirking, lest they start naming me that vulgar word they assign to any man in a one meter radius.

“My apologies.”

Mr. McDermott speaks up next. “This is lunch, we’re drinking, having a good time, no time for that shit.”

I nod my head in understanding and put away my briefcase. Does anyone here actually work, or is it purely kept to the office? Hm.

“So, what are we having?” Patrick asks the table.

I pick up the menu then, and furrow my brows at the options. Fine dining is, uh, fine dining, I suppose.

“Two J&B’s, or three?” Mr. Price asks me.

I clear my throat. “Two, I’ll just have the dry martini.”

“Fruity,” one of them says under their breath. I don’t even bother.

There’s a salmon plate topped with chives and soy sauce, with a side of mashed red pepper sweet potatoes and honeyed zucchini and squash. That’s appetizing. There’s also an ‘organic’ strawberry jello salad mixed with manzanilla olives and cream cheese. Less appetizing.

Mr. McDermott decides to bestow a secret upon us. “I heard they serve shark here.”

“Yeah, and there’s a leprechaun in Turtle Bay that hands out free vials of crack.”

“No, really man, if you tell the waiter a code or something, the chef will hand you a cloche that has a fucking shark fin under it.”

Mr. Price rolls his eyes. “You think the waiter would care if I asked him to drown you in the fountain over there?”

“The waiter looks like a faggoty actor-in-training, so give him a good tip, or just like, you know, your dick and maybe he will.”

“Did I tell you guys that Sabrina—”

“Which one?”

“You don’t know this one. Anyway, she was blowing me the other night and the stupid bitch used her teeth.” Mr. Van Patten gags.

Everyone at the table including me inwardly cringes.

“I was like, the fuck you using your teeth for? I’m already circumcised, and thanks to you, I’m now soft. She kept trying to suck on my flaccid dick and the whole thing was just fucking weird.”

“She was what?”

“You didn’t slap her? Kick her out?”

“I kicked her out right after that. And she’s been blowing up my receiver ever since. Give me another chance, David, please!” he mocks.

“I mean, if she’s willing to suck a softie…”

“She does have nice tits,” Mr. Van Patten admits. Their conversation dies down and slowly they turn their attention on me. I hold my breath and pretend I’m deciding on my order.

“What’s your type, Kira?” The million dollar question.

This is no group to be cheeky with, and too intelligent of an answer will cause me more harm than good. I choose carefully. “I do, uh, have an affinity for blondes.”

They nod.

“You like ditzy? Ditzy is cute. Patrick?”

He shrugs; I don’t know him well but he’s quiet this morning. I answer instead. “I’d prefer ditzy over arrogant and obnoxious.”

“Yep, yep.”

Mr. Bateman suddenly gets up and mumbles about heading to the bathroom. Mr. Price follows him with his gaze and has an amused smile, a knowing smile as he sips his drink. I shouldn’t be nosy but it’s common here apparently to gossip. I too watch him then lean over and whisper.

“Is he sick?” I feign concern. For a moment I wonder if he really is sick, placebo already hitting me with a bomb of nausea in my stomach.

Mr. Price scoffs. “He isn’t sick, he’s balls deep in Halcion. Did you see his eyes?”

They laugh at him. “His pupils are bigger than the fucking plates.”

I’m not entirely sure what that is but I refuse to ask for obvious reasons. The waitress, caked up in makeup and her hair crunchy with Aquanet, takes our drink orders and promptly skitters off. I noticed these things because her nails were crooked, one literally twice the size of the others, and she was noisily smacking gum in her mouth. So garish.

Mr. Bateman returns simultaneously as our drinks arrive, and he wastes no time in downing his. He whispers, “Nice tits” under his breath as our waitress leaves, and then says something else that astounds me. “Did you know I chopped off an East Villager’s hand and jerked off with it?”

I stare at Mr. Bateman as he announces this. He sips his whiskey, and annoyingly shakes his leg, vibrating the table. I look toward our colleagues, back to him, to his friends, back to him. No one says anything. Actually, his friends are too busy fawning over a ‘hardbody’ writing down another table’s order.

“C’mon, she’s smokin’!”

“Nah, nah, no.” Mr. Price is as picky as ever. “Look at her hips.”

“What? You don’t like Coke bottles?”

“I like coke-caine. And Diet Coke, which maybe she should drink more of.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, he’s kinda right. I think I saw her before, in the strings section of the New York Philharmonic.”

Mr. Bateman and I are in our own little bubble. I almost want to reply, but with what? Oh, that’s a hobby of mine as well! Are you like me? Did you also see the wonderful ad in Times Square for Tiffany & Co. and had to rush home for relief?

No, no— he might’ve said this expecting a response. He must know. How could he know? It wouldn’t make sense, I’ve covered my tracks! Or, so I thought. Is he stalking me? Is he aware of how often I daydream about my past girlfriends? Does he know about Jennifer? Has he seen Jennifer? There’s no other reason as to why he would make such a remark unless to evoke me! But what would he gain? What could he possibly gain from terrifying me?

I don’t realize I’m breathing hard until Mr. Van Patten nudges my shoulder.

“Dude, you okay?”

“Pretty sure he’s tweaking.”

I snap back, “No, I’m not. I’m fine. Um, I apologize.” I wipe my brow with a handkerchief. “It’s quite warm in here.”

They don’t believe me but luckily, they don’t care either. I glance back toward Mr. Bateman who’s silently mouthing the appetizers as he reads off the menu. He’s unaffected. He’s strange.

I don’t care for strange men.

✃ ✃ ✃

I didn’t think I’d replace Jennifer so quickly, but with a city so vast and brimming with the prettiest the States has to offer, I guess it was inevitable. And in that same vein, it’s inevitable that I would end up erasing evidence in the fashion of a stereotypical killer.

I drag Heather’s remains, a garbage bag stretched wide with the unnecessary parts of her, and a few miscellaneous things I filled it with to rid the bag of its human body shape. Again, this is not suitable for me, and I don’t like being reminded of what life was like prior to attaining Killer Queen. The act feels dirty, in a more ragged, mask-wearing type of way, and elementary, too. This is how others do this? Who has the time? Who has the attention to detail, and how do they deal with the constant anxiety of covering their tracks?

It reminds me of the last night Heather drew breath and she made me watch a horror film about a deadly surgeon. Despite eagerly returning home with me, she refused to let me get any closer to her even when she squealed and jumped at horribly-designed reanimated zombies. I even tried to kiss her on the lips, which mind you was the last thing I wanted to do, but it was a perfect segway to twist her figure around and hack off my prize, the true beauty, the love of my life.

And yet, she freaked out when I touched her waist, and lo and behold, a brand new suit was ruined from head to toe (which is also stuffed inside with Heather). The film kept playing as I cleaned up the mess, and—

Oh, yes, that’s why I brought that up… Well, it doesn’t matter. The clean-up of a botched murder is the bane of my existence. That’s all.

My stroke of luck shines when I find a dumpster right behind the apartment building I live in. It’s somewhat hidden, though not entirely thanks to the splattering of windows, some lit some completely black, that look down on the alley. Considering I’ve caught domestic violence, passionate love making, and other embarrassing acts through neighbors’ windows, there’s definitely nothing interesting about an innocent man and his garbage.

I wipe my brow and drag the bag another few meters before pausing again. You don’t realize how heavy a dead woman is until you have to dump her body. I’m tired, and want this over with so I can finish my stretching routine— I bought a book the other day that lists basic yoga positions to help loosen the hip flexors, a recent issue of mine— and listen to Mariya Takeuchi’s Variety album on the turntable I bought at Radio Shack. If I can hurry through this, expertly, I will be rewarded a lovely evening with my new girlfriend.

“Ha! Look at us! Both dumping bodies!”

Freeze. I slowly turn my head while feeling for the handle of the knife in my coat pocket.

A man carrying two bulging garbage bags of his own stands at the opposite end of the alleyway where it opens up to the main street. The shadow of the lamplights briefly obscure his face but he walks closer, and I see a goofy grin and wrinkles.

“This is the only dumpster I’ll go to ‘round here honestly, because the college kids that live below me fill the other one up to the brim, can you believe that?” He closes the distance between us and he lets go of his bags to place his hands on his rounded, lumpy hips.

“Uh.” I lick my lips then smack them. “Yeah, I can.”

“I mean this city is crazy, real crazy, and my wife always told me that this wasn’t a good decision but I couldn’t stand the heat down in Austin anymore, I just couldn’t. I mean, us old folks, just me by the way, not you, haha, you’re a handsome fellow, very sharply dressed! You should have a raincoat or somethin’, it’s been real stormy out, you don’t wanna ruin your like, Gew-chi suit, anyway—”

I’m still hunched over, Heather’s casket clutched in my hand. He hasn't studied its’ off putting shape, thank God, but this is too close for comfort.

“Are you new to the city?” he suddenly asks.

“Well—”

“There’s not a lot of neighborly love ‘round here, at least that’s how it feels to me. There’s no more lemonade on the porch and chit-chattin’ with Bobby, just drinking Bud Light and sweepin’ cigarette ashes on my balcony ‘cause of those gawd-dayum NYU kids. That’s so selfish, ain’t it?”

“Sure.”

“I just don’t care for it. That, and the winters are real brutal. Cold and icy as all hell.”

I don’t even want to entertain this, and yet: “I would say Hell isn’t very icy at all.”

As expected, he doesn’t hear me. “It’s irritatin’! But my wife, you know, she loves the lights, the hustle and bustle, the cute little shops and the expresso machines.”

I’m beginning to get a migraine.

“Also, the Chinese food. We only had one Chinese buffet when growin’ up, and I got food poisoning every single time. They told me it was the MSG. What do you think?”

Sir, sir, this is so very interesting, I’m genuinely engaged and wish to further this arousing conversation but I would much prefer if you just turned around so I can get this over with.

Beyond this man, I catch a Valentino suit and head of slicked-back brown hair standing at an ATM. He looks stick-like from this far out, but I can pick out those broad shoulders and tense stance out of a sea of stockbrokers. It’s as if he can’t relax, always coiled up like a viper readying to attack; that’s smart of him, especially while I’m around.

This man is rambling on about sales taxes and humidity, grating my ears and blocking my vision every time I peer around him. Mr. Bateman counts clean cash with elegant, black gloves on and starts walking with confidence he doesn’t deserve. Frustration is getting the better of me— he’s finally alone, very likely unarmed, and I’m about to lose a golden opportunity all because of this man!

Even when I attempt to interject with kind courtesy and ‘oh, of course, yes, but you see’, he steamrolls me. I give up then, and heave Heather and her garbage over the rim of the dumpster. Thump! She goes. This is your cue now, sir. Throw your things away and leave me alone.

“Sir,” I cut through him with a stern, deep voice. “I have to get home, if you excuse me. I have to… feed my girlfriend, she’s been alone all day.”

Awkward pause.

The man chuckles. “Is your girlfriend a cat?”

“Yes. Excuse me.” I brush past him and with great relief, he shuts up.

I count ten steps down the street, hearing the thuds of him tossing his garbage in the dumpster, and I count two seconds exactly before I turn on my heel, speed back the way I came and pounce on the defenseless man while his back is turned. My knife is sharp and easily cleaves through his spine and shoulder blades as I relentlessly stab him, enough so in such rapid succession he can hardly scream. By the time he can open his mouth, his lungs have already filled with blood and so his agonized cries are guttural and bubbly. He reaches out, for what I don’t know, maybe trying to crawl away from me, but it’s no use. His thick denim jacket soaks up most of the damage, and it’s only my gloves that are soiled. That’s fine, really, it’s a miniscule consequence.

Now that he’s mincemeat and paralyzed, on the verge of death if not deceased already, I flick my head to fix the tendrils of hair that have fallen in my face. I’ll leave his corpse; there’s a stabbing or a mugging printed every morning in the newspaper, and I doubt anyone will be questioning an older gentleman being assaulted on his nightly routine. The alleyways are dangerous, as you know. Wrong place, wrong time; it can happen to anyone.

I take another deep breath and search for Mr. Bateman, who is nowhere to be found. He went west, but there are a million doors and stops and shops and whatever else that way. Besides, even if he were right in front of me, it’d be hard to conceal bloodied hands and my frenzied disposition. I lust to take him down and for that reason, I have to be careful.

Sigh.

Until next time, Mr. Bateman.

✃ ✃ ✃

The next excursion that the fine men at Pierce & Pierce have decided on is a rendezvous at a place called Nell’s. It’s not quite a dance club, and it’s too unpleasant to be a chill rooftop bar. The shift between neon and darkness is nauseating, and they seem to have both the ceiling fans on full blast as well as the heated conditioning. I’m sweating yet chilled to the bone. I had to skip lunch due to the piles of paperwork stacked on my desk and I’m feeling the effects of an empty stomach. Apparently, the others have secretaries who do the menial work, but I am without a lady to sign off and look at these documents for me so I wasted my entire day, all 10 hours of it on reading what might as well have been hieroglyphics.

The silver lining to my mundane day is that I managed to find Mr. Bateman’s full address in his secretary’s desk once everyone else had left. That woman didn’t bother to lock any of the drawers, how naive considering there’s sensitive financial information in those folders. Not my problem. What’s next is figuring out when to use this key— I realized he lived rather close to me, another stroke of my luck, but I have to plan ahead. I could directly follow him home and stage a break-in; still easier said than done.

I stash away my plans for now.

It’s nearly 8 pm, right when I would be winding down for bed, when I’m interrupted. A colleague named Tom Hamlin called me asking if I minded meeting him tonight to discuss ‘important matters’. Like the hardworking man I am, I readily accepted and very shortly after, ‘important matters’ became a party invitation. Mr. Hamlin had me start at Harry’s to join up with none other than Patrick Bateman, Craig McDermott, and two other men I didn’t recognize, Victor Powell and George Reeves.

I hanged in the back of the group, intently watching Mr. Bateman who was glaring razor sharp daggers at Mr. Powell— I was oddly curious about why that was, as the former had a semi-permanent scowl, and to see this visceral hate directed towards someone who wears Valentino like him (like me), had slicked-back hair like him (and like me), and even had a resembling smirk, is fascinating. What is so striking about him? One might think of the common petty reasons: found cheating on his girlfriend, stole a deal from him, maybe even openly mocked him, like a bullying situation, but my perfect intuition tells me it’s much deeper than that.

Hm. It shouldn’t matter anyhow. Mr. Powell won’t have to worry about his “biggest fan” much longer.

Inside Nell’s, we sit in an open circle-shaped booth with me at one end and my target at the other. When we make eye contact, I smile but he doesn’t return it. How snobbish.

They’re sharing the menu and I patiently wait my turn, my hands clasped on my lap. I want to leave. I planned a date with Heather, and it’s unacceptable that I can’t even attend my own planned date. I’m starving, I’m thirsty, I refuse to look at the menu right now. So, when the waiter comes by wanting our orders, I ask for a glass of ice water, to the bemusement of my colleagues.

“Hard liquor ages you,” is what I say when one of them persists to bug me. My response hits where it hurts, and I hide my joy when he then questions his drink of choice.

“Hamlin, can you score tonight?”

“Uh, duh! I’m way ahead of you.”

“It’s not from that same guy, right? What’s his name, Carlos?”

“Ricardo.”

The waitress at the booth behind us has wonderfully long, luscious fingers. Her jingly diamond bracelet accentuates her tan skin so well, and those curved, almond-shaped purple nails. My god. I wonder if I should drop Heather (we’ve only dated for 5 days, that’s a little short, isn’t it?), and too late do I look over to them shuffling out of the other end of the booth. I briefly panic.

I might stay and rope the waitress into coming home with me, but I also don’t want to be left with a pricey bill because I’m the ‘newbie’ from Japan. Irritated, I follow after, barely keeping them in my sight through the winding hallways. They end up in the men’s bathroom, half of the group idling at the sinks while the other half, including Mr. Bateman squeeze into a wider stall.

I manage to fit in at the same time that Mr. Price sprinkles a mound of white powder onto an upside-facing mirror bolted to the wall. I may have been a mere office worker, but I’m not naive— that is a drug I recognize. I only knew of one person, a dolt from University, who had the guts to snort it before exams. I almost snitched on him when he was licking it from his hand in the middle of the train platform, but I figured his idiocy would be his downfall. I figured too, not my business. I was proven right during the exams themselves! I don’t know what cocaine entirely does, and it’s very likely he had a cocktail of substances in his system because he was whispering to his pencil as if it was an omniscient deity.

Anyway, I prefer to not begin whispering to inanimate objects as well, and I let my turn pass me up. Mr. Van Patten uses a handkerchief and wipes his brow, staring me down. Please don’t.

“Not interested, huh?”

I ponder this deeply, ignoring how Mr. Bateman judges me too. “I’m not fond of it, to be honest.”

“Have you tried it? I bet the stuff in Japan isn’t as good.”

“Not particularly,” I stutter a bit, and that entices them further.

“He’s scared, dude.”

“He’s a straight-edge, of course he hasn’t had the good shit.”

“What are you afraid of? You’re not gonna explode from it. It’s fucking cocaine, not bath salts.”

Mr. Bateman fixates me with a lopsided grin. “What a loser. More for me, I guess.”

I’m not acting right. This isn’t me. I don’t give into peer pressure, this isn’t Mr. Kira, and yet before I register it, I’ve picked up the rolled dollar bill and sniffed a skinny line. I clear my throat and at first, I don’t think I even snorted anything, until my nostril burns. They hoot and holler, congratulating me on popping some cherry. I blink rapidly, my right eye now stinging. What am I doing?

I just stand there, back against the metal stall. Deep breath, in and out. This too shall pass. I’ll wait it out and then go home, stretch, have my glass of milk, and sleep peacefully with my girlfriend. Remember, anything that gives effects fast, exits the body fast. I nod to myself. It’ll work out! It always does!

Besides, I don’t feel different but I might be expecting too much from a drug that resembles sugar. Actually, one of them just commented that the last gram was ‘NutraSweet’, so, there’s a chance this is all a placebo effect. Watching these men in their tight suits, wallets stuffed with cash and their ‘AmEx’, glittering jewelry, and they’re high off sugar. Damn sugar. Ha. That is hilarious.

My, my, just like the girl I dated after I finished my college education! She would sip sake, wait, no it wasn’t even sake, it was water! Water! She had made an utter fool of herself, and jumped onto a table at the restaurant she had stringed me along to, and she subsequently fell, nearly cracked her skull open.

We were kicked out, both of us, even though I was the pinnacle of elegance in my seat. She made a whole show, basically an educational presentation, of why I should come home with her, and yes, she was an easy catch, and her hands were softer than velvet, prettier than her objectively attractive face, but I couldn’t stand her whiny attitude so I had left her crying on the street.

She really thought I would have sex with her after that?

“What’s so funny, dude?” Puppy-eyes says. Why does he look so sad? So concerned?

My cackling echoes in the steel stalls, matching the thunderous tempo of some pop singer’s hit song upstairs. I don’t know what’s so funny, to be honest, but I can’t stop. I cover my face for a moment, my shoulders shaking, and I find solace in a cold corner.

My diaphragm aches and my sinuses are unbearably dry, yet my teeth rattle and the corners of my lips twitch into a smile I can’t stop. I lick my lips, tasting metal, over, and over, and over—

“Victor, how tight was Francine?”

“Pretty sure she’s a virgin. Or, was.” Hiss, smoke pours out of his mouth.

“Ha, Bateman said she was loose.”

He furrows his brow and frowns, as if it pains him to say, “Loosest fucking slut I’ve met.”

Another plume of smoke. I’m dizzy. “Really? She was tight, man. Maybe your dick’s tiny.”

They guffaw like hyenas and I make eye contact with Mr. Bateman. This isn’t the first time, and surely won’t be the last, that he’s the target of their pissing contests. Judging by his expression, the routine is stale. He’s looking through me, briefly, and indifference morphs into unbridled, sinister glee.

“I think I might chop your dick off, fry it, and throw it to the pigeons.”

The booming laughter doesn’t cease, in fact, one of them slaps his shoulder while he barely contains some need for violence. He pierces his cuticles with his thumbnail, much like I am doing right now.

Is that all you want to do? After he humiliated you?

“No. I actually might fry your whole body and feed you to the homeless, you bucktoothed bastard.”

Mr. Bateman rubs the rest of the powder onto his gums, and the sight of his fingers caressing his wetted lips, going inside his mouth, it’s—

It’s—

What? It’s what?

I clench my eyes. I need to leave now. I can not be here anymore, it is not worth it. I am vulnerable and in a state I do not wish to be in.

Someone pats me, hard, on the back but I don’t turn around, feeling stuck in place. In slow motion, his voice reverberates.

“Killer.”

“What?” My heart sinks.

“Kira, your nose is bleeding, dude.”

I wipe at my nose and brush away the stains on my bloody knuckles. I am not feeling well.

I’m growing erect, for an unknown reason, and I’m acutely aware of everything around me. The stifling cologne, the fluorescent lighting, the waterfalls crashing in the sinks outside the stall, the snorting and flushing, the vibration of my own hands. I haven’t trimmed my nails in quite some time. I should do that when I return home.

⭀ To be continued⥫

#american psycho #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo's bizarre adventure #patrick bateman #writers on tumblr #kira yoshikage #moriohpsycho #teehee #make sure you listen to sussudio and love my way when reading !!

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