#love hearing chucky getting the love | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seospicybin · 6 months

Text

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

PART I

Lee know x reader. (s,a)

Chapters: Part II

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

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

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

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

Oh, no! You're doing it again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Indeed, she is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I–I think it's—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Just one more person," you meekly say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You keep walking away, away and never looking back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SEVEN DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD.

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello!" A voice says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We got to work together," it says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"W-what?" You breathlessly say.

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

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

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

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

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

This is not real, you tell yourself out loud.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"3, 2, 1!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The man is dead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fucking shut up!" You shout at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But why?" He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But can you really save everyone?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can you turn the lights out for me?"

"Certainly."

The room turns dark but you get a newfound comfort in it.

"Goodnight," Minho's voice caresses your ears like a spring breeze.

You don't want to get used to this but you feel inexplicably at ease that there's someone else with you in this vast emptiness.

"Goodnight, Minho."

SIX DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD

You jolt awake to the sounds of your phone ringing on your bedside table and you know who it is without having to look at the contact name. Your fingers are tapping the phone screen as you squint your eyes to make sure you hit the accept call button.

"Yeah?" You ask as you put the phone on the side of your face while you're lying on your side with your eyes closed.

"You're still sleeping?" Kim asks, noticing the sleep in your voice.

"Mm-mmh," you hum in answer.

"You know what time it is?"

"I don't know. Nine or ten?" You wildly guess by how badly you want to go back to sleep.

You hear her sighing from the other line of the call, "It's almost 2 in the afternoon," she says.

You force your eyes to open to check the time yourself and see that it is indeed two in the afternoon.

"Oh?" You innocently gasp.

Realizing that may piss her off, you hurried to shift the conversation elsewhere, "Yeah, uh... why are you calling again?"

You fear that she's going to be mad about you abruptly leaving the exhibition or worse if she knew about Nick. You hold your breath, anticipating her answer.

"Oh, yes, I have good news," she says with a smile that you can feel from your end of the line.

"You sold four sculptures, darling!" She squeals.

That's exciting news but you don't have it in you to participate in that excitement, yet you feel relieved you can properly breathe at ease.

"That's... That's great!" You meekly say while raking your hair to the back with your fingers.

"I've been calling you since yesterday, you know that?"

"Oh? I, uhm..." You take a moment to think of an answer.

Summoned a demon? Found out that you have seven days to the end of the world? Killed someone to stop it?

"I needed—"

"Never mind!" She rudely cuts you off, "Guessing from how tired you sounded, you must be going straight back to work, huh?"

The sculpture is still a chunk of unshapen stone but yeah, you worked on it just a bit. Well, a work is a work.

"Yeah, I-I did," you sputter your answer yet thankful that all of her guesses are off the mark.

"I'll come with the paperwork tomorrow. For now, you can rest now or work some more, knock yourself out," she says, couldn't care less about what you're doing now that you've made money and she got to feed on a few percent of it.

"Thanks, Kim!" You say, because it's better to always be on her good side.

"Oh, come on! We both working hard," she kindly refuses but you know she feels entitled to this.

"Let's have a dinner to celebrate," she suggests.

"Yeah, yeah," you half-heartedly answer.

"Talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay."

"Bye!"

You don't even bother to say it back knowing that she'll hang up right after she said her bye. Since you've woken up already, you sit up on the bed and pull your knees up, hugging your feet as you gather your thoughts.

In your peripheral vision, you see a flash of red from the doorway of your room. You turn to look and see Minho standing with the side of his body leaning against the doorframe.

The all-black outfit he's wearing makes his honey skin glow and his hair look like a blazing fire under the sunlight. He smiles once he notices your eyes are on him.

"Morning, sunshine!" He sweetly greets you with a smile that is a little unsettling but a whole lot attractive.

He crosses his arms in front of him, exposing the veins coiling his forearms, "Oh, wait, it's way past noon," he says with a grin.

Looking at him only reminds you of the responsibility you're carrying on your shoulders: saving billions of people from being incinerated.

"Are you always like this or...?" Minho asks, breaking the silence that hung in the room as you think of the dire situation you're in.

Minho approaches you and stands at the end of the bed, "You can't stay in all day. We only have five and a half days left," he reminds you of the time-sensitive quest you're in.

The only way to save those billions is by killing three people. That's the only thing on the pro list, there are just too many cons, mainly on the killing part. The only good thing that comes out of it so far is that you only need to do two more killings.

God! What have you become?

"What should I do?" You hopelessly ask him even though it's a bad idea to ask a demon such a question.

"Just carry on as usual so the people around you don't get spooked," he answers.

It's you and him, him and you, there's no one else you can seek help from.

Minho is right. You can't just sit here and watch the day goes by or else the thing you've done would come to a waste.

You slowly scoot over to sit on the edge of the bed and rub the sleep of your eyes, not ready to face the day when you know you only have six days left to stop the end of the world.

"And while we're going on about the day we can decide who to kill next," Minho adds.

The devilish grin looks beautiful on his sculpted face but everything he says sending a chill down your spine.

"Oh, an old lady!" Minho exclaims as an elderly lady enters the elevator.

You silently watch as he scoots closer to her and smells her head, "She smells like... oh! She's sweet."

You silently groan in the corner watching what he's doing.

He places his hand on the lady's shoulder and says, "She can't stop thinking about the end though. She can't wait for it to come."

He looks at you with that wild grin plastered on his face, "You'd be doing her a favor."

You lightly shake your head at him to make him stop playing around the poor lady but he doesn't get the clues.

"She dreams of death. Even now—"

"Shut up!" You say through your gritted teeth.

The old lady turns to look at you, "What is it, my dear?"

You quickly put on a smile for her, "Oh, nothing," you politely say.

Minho walks up to stand next to you again and whispers in your ear, "Just do it. No one will miss her."

"Shut up!" You whisper back while throwing daggers with your eyes at him.

"She's nearly dead already!"

Thankfully, the elevator dings open and shoots his idea down as you step out of the elevator.

"We need to start to pick someone!" He persists as he follows you walking in the lobby.

Minho is such a nuisance.

It's hard to ignore him when he keeps talking, making remarks about everyone he sees, and constantly around you the whole time.

It's when you're working on your sculpture that you get to immerse yourself in your work and disassociate from reality.

All you hear is the slamming sound of your hammer on the chisel and pieces of stone falling onto the floor. Looking down at the mess you made, you spot one particular piece of stone lying close to your feet. You stare at it for too long you get the recollection of that night.

The weight of the rock in your hand, how you bashed someone's head with it, and the splashing sound of the man falling into the water, all of that vividly playing in the back of your head.

You stagger backward and drop your chisel onto the floor, the clattering sound echoing in the spacious studio.

"I've been meaning to tell you this," Minho appears from behind the sculpture, startling you.

"We should order food," he suggests.

You put away your hammer and take off your mask, walking to the mini fridge to get a bottle of water.

"You're a demon. You feed on..." You think for a moment to finish your sentence as you unscrew the cap of the bottle.

He snatches the flyer stuck to the fridge door and asks, "Pizza?"

You close the fridge and walk over to the couch, plopping yourself down before chugging some water into your system.

"You need to eat so you can—"

"Kill?" You finish his sentence.

Minho scrunches his nose and sits on the armrest of the couch next to you, "I was about to say think but yeah, that too," he says.

You untie your pinafore and throw it aside, he isn't wrong to say that you need to eat. What's the point of saving the world if you're going to die of starvation?

You let out a sigh and grab the flyer from his hand, typing the numbers on your phone screen.

"Cheese pizza, please? With a lot of pepperoni!"

How can you believe that he's a demon when his choice of pizza topping is like a toddler's?

"Good evening, Miss!" The concierge greets you as he sees you enter the door.

"Hi," you greet back, impatiently wanting to get back to your apartment to dwell on your fate again.

"Miss Kim came by and dropped something for you," he informs, taking out a big envelope from your mailing box.

There's a faint sound coming from the small TV tuned to a news broadcast when you come to the desk to collect it.

"Here it is, Miss," he slides the big brown envelope across the shiny surface of the desk. There's a note on top of it which you immediately recognize as Kim's.

You open to do a quick check on what's inside when you hear a glimpse of the news from the TV.

"...man found dead in the river has been identified as Ben Watson, a financial officer of a bank company, leaving a wife and a seven-year-old daughter who has been notified about his tragic death..."

You glance at the small screen and see the photograph of the man you killed that night. You can't possibly be wrong about this when you remember the horror on his face as you lifted the rock before swinging it hard to his head.

"Is there anything wrong, Miss?" The concierge asks.

You snap yourself out of your daze and put the envelope close to your chest as if someone about to steal it from you.

"No, no," your voice is quivering in panic at the sight of the man you killed.

"Thank you," you abruptly the conversation with gratitude and walking fast to the elevator.

The warm water doesn't work to calm you down when you're tainted inside. You feel filthy, inside and out. You feel sick seeing your reflection in the mirror.

You've been holding your medicine in your hand but you need something stronger, you ditch the pill and run to the kitchen.

You pull out the wine you have in the kitchen cabinet and drink it straight from the bottle, chugging it like it's water. You gasp when you stop drinking, taking the bottle with you as you sit on the sofa while you're still in your bathrobe.

"This is how you're going to end the day?" Minho asks, taking the bottle of wine from you to take a sip.

"Can you stop talking about killing for just—" You choke on air as anger bubbles up inside you.

Minho holds his hands up in defeat and leans back on the sofa next to you, "I'm just saying..." he meekly says.

The silence only resides for a minute until he speaks again, "Look, the earlier you get it done—" he stops talking when you shoot him a glare.

You take the bottle of wine from him and take a long gulp, a drop of wine escapes the corner of your mouth, dripping down your chin.

You aggressively wipe it with the sleeve of your bathrobe and recline on the sofa, looking out at the city lights that look like pinpricks in the dark of the night.

"I'm crazy..." you sadly remark.

Those words remind you of a sobering fact that what people think of you: crazy.

Ever since you were still an art student, people often found you talking to yourself in class, always in your little world with your imaginary friend. That leads you to this solitary life because normal people avoid crazy.

"People are right about me. I'm crazy," you state again, and saying it out loud makes your heart aches.

Minho turns his head and looks at you with his dark eyes that weirdly provide you warmth, "You're not crazy."

But why would a normal person kill a person because a demon told him to? You don't even know if he's real and not a product of your imagination.

"I'm a murderer..." you say with a heavy sigh and an even heavier heart.

He scoots closer until he sits close next to you, his shoulder bumps with yours on the big sofa that could fit five people. He looks at you and gently says, "Yeah, but not a crazy one."

Minho has a way of looking at bad things positively. You chuckle at the irony of his words. You can't tell if you should be happy that you're not crazy or sad that you're indeed a murderer.

He slumps down on the sofa to be on the same level as you, also turning his head to look at the view, "Want to know something?"

Instead of answering, you take a sip of the wine. You know he'll keep talking even if you refuse him.

"This is actually my first assignment," he shares.

He drops his hand on the space on the sofa, merely inches away from yours, "It's more of an initiation, sort of earning my wings."

You look at him and get a little taken aback by the proximity you can see yourself in his eyes. You almost forget what you were trying to say to him, "What are you trying to say?"

You look away because he looks exactly like the one you envisioned on your sculpture, divinely beautiful that it's hard to comprehend.

"I'm saying that I'm new to this too," he answers.

Again, you can't tell if you should be happy or sad to know that. Strangely though, you find comfort in his words.

You look at his hand splayed so close to yours and it evokes the curiosity in you that needs to be fed. You gently flip over his hand and gently slip your fingers on the spaces between his fingers, you can feel the warmth and the roughness of his finger pads on each finger.

Minho is real, he's real, you perpetually assure yourself.

You glance at him and he's looking at you, your eyes meet in a tender gaze.

"Are you real, Minho?"

You're aware of how much that question weighs. If the answer is no, you know the insurmountable pain you brought onto yourself.

He slowly blinks and you can see his dark lashes fanning out so beautifully. His crimson-red lips open and says, "I'm as real as you want me to be."

Words aren't enough to convince you. With the despair filling your heart, you lean in and innocently put your lips on his. It's a kiss that feels more than just a physical act, one that you didn't know you needed.

After getting the reassurance that you need, you pull away. However, the hand lingering on your jaw tells otherwise. He touches your face with just his fingertips yet it's enough to send a tingle inside.

Slowly, he leans in to kiss your closed eyelids ever so softly and before you know it, he brings your face closer to place a tender kiss on your lips.

And for the first time in your life, you feel the warmth no one has ever given you.

FIVE DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD

"You wake up early!" Minho says as you dress up to get ready for the day.

You ignore his words, continue collecting your things around the room, and put them into your bag.

"Are you trying to match your clothes with me?" He says, looking at your all-black outfit while sitting on the headrest of the sofa.

This morning, you woke up on the sofa still in your bathrobe and a blanket covered your body. The first thing you remember is you kissed him last night and somehow, it convinces you to keep going with the quest.

However, you still feel conflicted with what you do. You need to make sure of one thing.

"How about this handsome fucker?" Minho asks, pointing to the other person riding the elevator with you.

The man looks indeed handsome, he dressed so impeccably when it's only ten in the morning. He catches you looking and smiles at you.

You politely smile back and look away only to face Minho who's standing on the other corner of the elevator.

"He'll be losing his hair at the age of 32 and spends the next 29 years taking it out on his wife," he whispers even though no one can hear him but you.

The taxi ride to the hospital only takes fifteen minutes and you know where to go right away from the array of flower arrangements outside the separate building from the main hospital.

"Please tell me you're not doing what I'm thinking?" Minho asks in a concerned voice.

You wish to be able to shut him up for a few minutes until you can find what you're looking for. The hall is packed with people in black attire to what you can safely assume are the guests of the mourning family on the two funeral services being held by two different families.

You read the sign that leads to the Watson family yet pretend to be the one visiting the other family. Before you can sneak into their funeral service, you see someone taking the daughter outside.

"This is a bad idea!" Minho panickly says.

It's kind of alarming to hear because it's the first time he sounded genuinely concerned. You follow where the little girl is being taken and turns out, she's being taken to the park outside, probably to avoid her feeling overwhelmed.

"You're not a relative. People will get suspicious of you!" Minho nervously whispers.

You come over to the two men chatting and kindly ask for a cigarette even though you don't smoke. You stand at the other side of the door and take a drag of the smoke to be seen convincing.

"I know you're worried..." Minho sighs.

He stands next to you with his head hovering close to your ear. He takes a breath before talking, "She's not in mourning. She's not not mourning," he says as you both quietly watch the girl sitting on the bench and drinking a juice box.

"Happy that it's finished but sad that he's dead. But it has finished!" He emphasizes the last word.

You take another drag and accidentally do it excessively, sending you into a coughing fit.

"You spared her another five years of it. A lifetime of therapy," Minho explains, "a lifetime!"

You look at him to see if he meant what he said. He's a demon after all, the vision he forced you to see could be misleading, a trick to make you do what he says.

He looks back at you and smiles, "She's a mom at 29. A nan at 57," he shares.

See? He knows how to comfort you even though you don't ask for it. You give up on pretending to smoke and stab the cigarette butts onto the big ashtray. You shove your hands into the pocket of your jacket and start walking away to the parking lot.

"Why are you telling me this?" You curiously ask.

He nonchalantly shrugs as he walks next to you, "I just thought you'd like to know."

"Did you see that?" Minho shouts as he leisurely watches TV with his feet up on the couch.

You pretend not to hear him and continue sculpting, hitting the hammer harder, louder to drown out his voice. As if he read your mind, he appears behind you and places both of his hands on your shoulders.

"You should see this!" He insists, steering your body and making you watch the TV.

It's a broadcast of night news about climate change and he magically changes the channel to show news about nuclear testing.

"It's manifesting. Do you understand?"

Minho keeps switching the channel to show you every bad there is happening in the world, everything that shows the sign that the world is close to ending.

You lightly shrug him off and say, "We got this kind of news a few years ago but—"

Minho holds you by the shoulders and shakes you awake, "This is real. We don't have much time and you're the only one who can stop it!" He reminds you of the harsh truth.

Somehow that only makes you question why you have to be the one to bear such responsibility. Billions of people on earth and they chose you?

"I'm not ready yet. I'm—"

"Don't you want to see that little girl live her peaceful future?" Minho asks.

This is where you know he's being the demon he is, using your weakness to his advantage and making you give in to the temptation.

It's not so much a temptation when you have no other options, it's killing or being engulfed in flames on Friday. You muster up your courage and think of something to do.

The first killing was what Minho said it was: a beginner's luck, the man happened to be there and an abusive bastard, even in his grave, he shall not rest in peace.

This time, you plan to do it meticulously and without mistakes. You walk to the kitchen and pull open the drawer, taking out a knife you occasionally use to cut your sandwiches.

Minho shakes his head in disapproval of your choice of weapon, "You're not a knife person," he concludes.

You look at him, demanding an explanation behind that haste conclusion.

"It's messy. You could hurt yourself," he explains.

That sounds right. You put the knife back into the drawer and look around the studio to find potential killing weapons.

Minho leans into your side and whispers, "Let's choose something that is more you!"

You look at him and see that he's eyeing the table full of your sculpting tools.

You pick up the medium chisel and show it to him to seek his approval. You meet another disapproval as he strongly shakes his head.

"It's too specific. They'll know it's you. You're the only sculptor living in the area," he gives you an insight into how the devil's mind works.

You must admit that he just saved you from making a mistake. You pick another weapon that you're familiar with but also gives you the upper hand to do the killing. You pick up the hammer and turn around to show him.

A smile rises on his face as he nods in approval, "That's you! You're a basher!"

You bring the hammer close and observe it, it feels good around your hand since it's a tool that you work with most of your life.

"You've had the practice now. It'll be easier this time," Minho says with a sinister smile.

You want to believe his words so much but the nerves get to you. Your breathing becomes erratic once you realize what you're going to do with the hammer.

Minho puts his hand on the small of your back and holds you steady, "Liquor courage! That's what you need! Booze!" He suggests.

"I don't keep any alcohol in the studio," you meekly say.

Considering that sculpting involves a lot of sharp objects, it's wise to not keep anything that would dull your focus.

"Also, I just took an antidepressant an hour ago," you inform him.

"Oh, shit!" He curses and leans his body to the back, against the table.

Minho crosses his arms in front of him, then rubs his chin as he thinks of something. He then leers at you with a smirk dancing on his face, "Well, do you want a drink?"

There's a bar a few blocks away from your studio.

You got here in need of liquid courage and there's plenty of them here. You plan to only consume enough alcohol just to calm the nerves but not too much to lose your focus.

It gets you anxious to step into a new environment. You decide to go straight to order drinks.

"Whiskey, please?" You say to the bartender with a handlebar mustache.

Bartenders tend to remember the faces they have seen and yours must not have registered into his memory bank. He puts away the cloth he's holding.

"You want ice with it?" He asks.

"I'll have it dry," you answer since you came here for the alcohol, not for refreshment.

"Easy, love. We have work to do," Minho reminds as he props a hand against the countertop.

Knowing that one drink wouldn't be enough and you don't want to bother the bartender again for a drink, you decide to double.

"Make that two, please!" You hurriedly say before the bartender starts making your order.

"You don't have to get one for me," Minho grins at you.

The bartender takes another glass with him to finally fill them with your choice of potion.

"I didn't," you whisper back at him.

You immediately pay for it and bring your drinks with you to the empty spot in the corner of the bar, hidden behind the pool table.

You slowly sip your drink and feel it running through your system, stripping a layer of senses off of you, making you less aware of your surroundings.

"Okay, you see anyone tasty?" Minho asks as he sits next to you.

He cranes his neck looking for the next human sacrifice among the people who are enjoying their concoctions. His finger points to the guy with a beanie and drinking a pint of beer.

"Oh, that one perfect!" He exclaims.

He stacks his hands on top of the table and leans forward as he further speaks, "Burglaries. Mostly target the elderly. What do you reckon?" He turns to you for opinions.

The alcohol is not quite there yet so you take a longer sip. You feel the alcohol burns your throat and you wince from the bitter aftertaste.

"No?" He asks as he looks at you.

You know he's asking about the human sacrifice, not the alcohol but the answer is the same, "No."

Minho moves on. His eyes are pacing around the room to study people and check their backgrounds with his evil power.

He taps your shoulder as he finds his next candidate, "See that girl with the pints?"

You can easily spot the girl with curly hair, carrying two pints of beer in her hands.

Minho leans in close to your ear to give his intel, "She went on holiday when she was 12 years old and saw her sister drown in a swimming pool."

He suddenly lowers his voice as he tells you the rest of the story, "She could have pulled her out but she just stood there and watched."

Maybe it's true that people are the scariest.

They may look ordinary and good and all yet inside, lies this darkness that they buried deep inside them. If Minho hadn't told you, you would have taken her as a pretty girl with a nice smile and nothing more.

Minho pulls at the sleeve of your shirt and points to another guy, talking to his friend by the pool table. You're about to wave him off again until the guy turns his head and you know who it is.

"How about him? He likes to secretly film girls by drug them and once he—"

"Sent a girl into overdose," you finish his sentence.

Everyone knows who Tim Shaw other than a student in our faculty and more importantly, people know what he likes to do to innocent girls yet no one dares to make him take responsibility for what he did.

Until one night, he drugged a girl and left her on the cold floor of a club, unconscious. There's no evidence that he drugged her or it was he drugged, ended up with him getting dropped off of all charges.

You have one more drink to finish and you gulp it in one go, wanting to use this opportunity to get back for what he did to that poor, innocent girl.

Minho triumphantly smiles, knowing that you have set a target on Tim's head.

"I think we have a contender," he concludes.

Tim is exiting the bar and you take it as an advantage.

You don't need to lure him out, you wait a minute before you follow him outside to not seem conspicuous. Once you're outside, you look side to side to see where Tim is going.

"Perfect location. No witnesses," Minho answers as you both find him turning to the back of the bar.

Tim seems to hear your rushed footsteps and turns around to see you. He seems to be taken aback and you doubt that he'll recognize you. Being crazy has its advantages, you're off the asshole's radar.

You nervously laugh as he looks at you. You quickly think of something to say, "Oh, my God! It's really you, Tim!" You say with fake enthusiasm.

"I'm sorry but who..." he gets all defensive.

"I'm—" You don't know how to explain yourself other than 'the insane one from art school'.

"Oh, wait, you're that girl, the sculptor, the... uh," he brakes before he can say the infamous title of yours.

"The freaky one?" You playfully say.

He bursts into laughter and nods, "Hey, don't get me wrong. I like freaky," he says.

Minho points to the carts of empty bottles and gestures for you to use them instead of the hammer inside your bag that weighs your shoulder the longer you're carrying it.

"I was just getting a drink but it doesn't feel good drinking alone," you lie even though that's how you prefer to enjoy your poison.

"Yeah, I bet," he says with a grin that showcases his whitened teeth and malicious intent.

"How about drinking at my place?" He offers.

"Home turf. Even better," Minho comments, appearing behind you.

You don't want to seem desperate to be with Tim because honestly, you're just stalling to find the perfect opportunity to kill him. It's time to put what you learned from Kim into practice.

"I, uhm..." you rub the back of your neck and shyly smile at him, "I don't think that's..."

As you pretend to consider his offer, he's secretly checking you out. His eyes travel up and down your body, you bet he thinks of lewd things even though you're dressed like a bible salesman with the same outfit you wore to the funeral service.

He takes a step forward and smiles at you, "I live not far from here. You can easily crawl back here if you think I'm a bad drinking partner," he seduces.

Tim must have thought you were as gullible as the other. Oh, he has no idea the surprise you have for him!

"If you don't mind, yeah," you say with a low giggle.

"Okay," he says with a triumphant smile.

His house is indeed only two blocks away from the bar and he keeps boasting about how he owns a house from his inheritance and the rising price of property these days.

"Please, come in!" He lets you into his house.

You step on a crumpled beer can as you enter the living room and are horrified at the amount of trash littering the place.

"A few friends and I watched a football match last night," he concisely explains.

He takes off his jacket and hangs it on the coat rack, "How about we drink in my room?"

You uneasily glance at Minho and he nods. You look back at Tim then put on a fake smile for him, "Yes."

He leads the way up the stairs and you follow him, climbing the steps with the hammer getting heavier and heavier inside your bag.

Tim turns around and sees you being hesitant, "There's no need to be shy now," he says with a lopsided grin.

You respond with a smile, keeping your head tilted up, and continue climbing up the stairs.

"Now!" Minho orders.

"Hit him with the hammer now!" He says again so close to your ear.

Your head snaps in his direction and hisses through your gritted teeth, "Shut the fuck up!"

Tim catches you talking and looks over his shoulder, "What's that?"

"Can't wait to see the bedroom!" You lie and add a giggle to sound convincing.

He smirks at you before pushing the door to his bedroom, "Come on in!"

His room is less messy than his living room in which he helplessly tries to make it seem tidy by flattening the pile of his duvet.

"You can sit down here," he says, patting the space next to him on the bed.

"You're not really going to have sex with him, are you?" Minho asks as he quietly watches you from across the bed.

A deadly glare is enough to answer him and he immediately refrains from pressuring you.

"I was just checking," he adds.

It's when you're in his bedroom that you start to fear Tim, not when you know what he is capable of. But at the same time, it fuels your hate fire, it reminds you of the reason why you need to eliminate scum like him.

"You keep your alcohol in your room?" You ask.

It's obvious that he took you here for different intention. He's taking you here for the sole reason that is to ruin your life.

"Oh, yeah, the drinks," he smacks his lips together and awkwardly paces in the room.

He reaches for the portable speaker on top of his dresser and turns it on, "You can wait for the drinks while listening to music," he says.

You nod, "That sounds nice!"

He gets out of his bedroom and heads back downstairs. While he's doing what you believe is spiking your drink with substance, you think of a plan on how you're going to kill him.

First, you take the hammer out of your bag and practice your swing. You get panicked with each second passed and haven't found a way to catch him off guard.

The footsteps on the stairs signal you that he's on his way here. You decide to do the classic way by hiding in the back of the door, planning to strike him from behind.

You see his figure entering the room, carrying two glasses of drinks in his hands, "It's your lucky day because I found a bottle of—"

Without thinking, you swing your hammer hard and hit him right on the side of the head. It's a weak blow and you can see that from how he's staggering backward, still conscious.

There's no turning back now that you have done it. You come charging at him, attacking him while he's still disoriented from the first blow.

He collapses onto the bed and not giving him time to recover, you keep hitting his head with the hammer with blood splattering the bed and wall with every swing of the hammer going onto his head.

You whimper as blood gets on your face and see that Tim is lying cold on the bed, dead. However, you land another blow just to make sure you've done it and leave no room for mistakes.

"You're good, you're good," Minho says from across the room.

That's when you stop and take a step back. It feels like your soul has left your body, you suddenly feel drained and the hammer drops onto the floor.

You look at the mess you made, the bloody mess and dead body, your life that is once far from all of it. Your throat suddenly closes up and you find it hard to breathe.

After a moment, Minho gets to your side to say, "You can't have that lying around," he's eyeing the bloody hammer lying on the floor.

With your mouth gaping for air, you bend down to pick it up and shove it back into your bag.

"Cleans anything you touched," Minho instructed.

You take a handkerchief from inside your jacket and use it to wipe surfaces you probably made contact with even though you're sure there aren't any.

You leave the bedroom after wiping the handle of the door and make a turn to the stairs when you hear the front door creak open.

You peek from the top of the stairs and someone is turning the lights in the kitchen.

"Get out before he sees you," Minho whispers.

It's bad when he needs to whisper like that even though no one can hear or see him, but you. The adrenaline is still pumping and you make the most of it by bracing yourself to make a run down the stairs and to the front door that is only a few meters away.

You take a deep breath before quietly descending the stairs without making any noise. You can feel your heart beating in your ear yet you keep going as the door is only a reach away.

You successfully land on the base of the stairs when your bag accidentally hits a flower pot, sending it breaking into pieces on the floor.

"Tim?" The man calls.

He looks at you with confusion drawn on his face, "Who are you?"

It's too late for you to break into a run as he sees your face and officially makes him an eyewitness. You can't leave an eyewitness, at least, not until you've done all three human sacrifices.

Is it necessary to kill him though?

You can think and consider as much as you want but it all comes down to the one question: kill or end the world?

Support my blog by kindly reblog, comment or tip me on my ko-fi!

taglist: @svintsandghosts @abiaswreck @septicrebel @cursed-mars-bars @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @tangylemonade @bluenights1899 @thisisnotstraight88 @elizalabs3 @avyskai @is2cb97 @simeonswhore @marvelous-llama @linovely @jisungsleftcheek @hanjisbeloved @luvsskzs @knowleeknow @army-stay-noel @djeniryuu @bigsobs4skz @toplinehyunjin @channies-luv @foxinnie8 @biribarabiribbaem @dalamjisung @moasworld @sherryblossom @fawnpeaks @lukeys-giggle @obeythemasters @primoppang @devilsmatches @skz-streamer @freckleboilix @idkluvutellme @laylasbunbunny @cherry-edibles @cutiespaghetti @yourmercibeaucoupsblog @hanjisunginc

#stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #lee know x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz fics #skz fanfics #kpop smut #kpop fics #kpop fanfics #seospicy smut

669 notes · View notes

stvrni0lo · 9 months

Text

𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬

chris sturniolo x reader (fluff)

summary: chris expresses his concerns of getting makeup on his face when you just want to give him a kiss on the cheek

warnings/notes: extremely short i’m sorry

requested?: yes! number 15 “you’re gonna get lipstick all over me” from my dialogue prompts

> > >

You were getting ready to go to a costume party. Chris had suggested that you dress up as Chucky and Tiffany, meaning you had to have dark lipstick on.

As you added the finishing touches to your makeup, you could hear Chris padding towards you from your bed. He had been ready a while ago and decided to watch you get ready from the comfort of your sheets. He sat next to you on the floor as you smeared lipstick on your lips.

His hand came to encase around your waist, leaning his head on you.

“You look good,” he stated.

His eyes drifted from your eye makeup, to your hair, and finally, to your lips. He lifted his head up to kiss your cheek, reveling in the joy on your face as you smiled at him through the mirror.

“Thank you.”

You popped the cap back on, throwing the lipstick onto your pile of makeup on the floor. Turning to look at him, you noticed that he was already staring at your lips.

Your hands rested on his shoulder as you moved in to kiss his cheek. After pecking him, you moved back to check if you had stained him. Sure enough, there was a dark lip mark on his jaw.

Stifling a giggle, you move your head down to his neck to place another kiss there. His hand gripped your waist a little tighter.

“You’re gonna get lipstick all over me,” he groaned.

You simply hummed as you moved across his neck to peck to other side before lifting your face. His eyes darted to your smudged lipstick, a dopey smile on his face.

“I don’t see you complaining,” you muttered as you leaned in to capture his lips.

Chris’ other hand flew to your hip as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. Your hands threaded through his hair as the other held his face, holding him close to you.

You pulled away to catch your breath, noticing the stains of lipstick all over his face. Giggling, you turned his cheek with your fingers so he could look in the mirror.

“I don’t know, it kind of suits you,” you said.

Chris laughed as he rolled his eyes, standing up to go wipe his neck and face.

“As much as I love having your lip marks all over me, I don’t think Nick and Matt would appreciate me walking down like this.”

You gave him one last kiss before he left to go clean himself up.

Looking in the mirror, you figured you should also fix up your makeup. Although to you, it was worth the mess you made.

- - -

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@lollibumblebee

@dwntwn-strnlo

@gracietaylorsversions

@20nugs

@thetriplets3

@sunshinewwx

@gwenlore

@gabbylovesreading

@ssturniolo

@opheliaofficial07

@stargirlv0id

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader

611 notes · View notes

luvghostie · 2 years

Text

╰┈➤ 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒

𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘/𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘༊*·˚

{𝘎𝘕 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘪 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞, + 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦}

*ೃ༄ 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐲𝐞𝐫𝐬

When you called him daddy for the first time it took him aback...and he's a ruthless serial killer- he obviously didn't say anything but the name made him hard just hearing it. The feeling was quite unusual for Michael. The name sent a feeling of pure pleasure throughout his body.

Now you call him daddy any chance you can. No doubt you'll be fucked until you can't think straight anymore.

*ೃ༄ 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐲

Baby is a chaotic but fun person to be around. If she finds interest in you, gender and mental state won't affect her. Baby likes you for you, if you were innocent she'd love you even more. Yes, she kills people but she knows something good when she sees it. Even mother Firefly likes you!!

Baby seems like the dominant type as she likes power. So, when you called her mommy it only filled her ego more. She'll be all over you as the name is something that triggers sexual desires. She'll make you say it again finding enjoyment in your humiliation and will fuck you all night long. (Otis most definitely heard you and told you guys to shut the fuck up)

*ೃ༄ 𝐎𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝

Let's be honest, you've been calling Otis daddy since you two first got together. His manners and the way he carries himself just give off the vibe. The name ate away at you until you finally said it. Oh boy, the number of times you two fucked that night was unbelievable.

It's like a habit now. Sexual activity or not, it's a slip of the tongue and a nickname you call him 24/7. Baby thinks it's cute but she doesn't want to hear you guys fuck. The poor girl already has trauma from the brief things she's walked in on.

*ೃ༄ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

Spaulding didn't expect you for the kinky type. The innocent-looking ones are always the kinkiest. But, he likes the name and even makes you call him daddy in embarrassing situations. Out in public? You know he'll make you call him it just for humor or to make others uncomfortable.

In the bedroom, the nickname is still a must. Spaulding loves it when he feels in control. Having you a moaning mess saying his favorite new analysis, it's absolutely perfect.

*ೃ༄ 𝐓𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞

Look at her, it's no surprise you call her mommy. When you use the nickname she finds it rather flattering. She's had many exes in the past, (Chucky being one of them) who love her dominant side. She knows what she wants and how to get it.

Like Otis, she'll fuck you harder than you possibly could imagine. Reminder, this girl is super freaky and will tease you to the point that you can't take it anymore. That bright pretty smile never leaves her face while you scream her name.

*ೃ༄ 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝

You guys were in the middle of having sex when you accidentally called him daddy. He stopped himself before asking you to repeat what you said. He's been called that name many times, coming from you though, it feels right.

He'll have you call him daddy whenever you need anything. The name makes him feel powerful over you and turns him on so much. I have a good feeling you guys fuck every night because of it.

*ೃ༄ 𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞

Dollface is a very complicated person. She can be sweet then turn around and eat your heart out. When you guys did have sex, being called mommy was the last thing she expected.

Doll likes the name shockingly. She makes you say it now and then as it makes her happy. However, She won't push you to do anything you don't like. If you want round two or want to make love more often just let her know.

*ೃ༄ 𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐧

This man will either find it very funny or very sexy. There's no in-between. When you guys do have sex it's always full of new experiences. Once, Art blew an air horn in your ear while you were fixing to cum. You punched the shit out of him which he found absolutely funny.

*ೃ༄𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬

Billy actually asked if you could call him daddy. He'll admit it to you, the word coming from your mouth sounds like heaven. Gosh, say it all the time and he'll fold.

Billy loves seeing you beneath him and when you moan daddy- boy losses all self-respect. He isn't ashamed to ask you what his ‘name’ is. Every time you say anything besides daddy he'll just go faster.

*ೃ༄ 𝐒𝐭𝐮 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

Daddy? He never expected you to call him daddy. No one's ever called Stu something like that before. The common, baby, babe, and a nickname they've given him have always been usual. This is a new leaf though and from now on that's the only name he wants you to call him.

3K notes · View notes

sinkovia · 3 months

Note

Fluff idea!!!!!!

Hear me out:

Reader adopts two cats, Price has to deal with them :3

I jus think it'll be fun

I THINK PRICE WOULD HAVE SO MUCH BEEF WITH THE CATS LMAO. Only at first though, I feel like he would slowly start warming up to them after realizing they could be sweet and not act like giant New York street rats.

As you enter the pet store to grab some bird feed for your front porch hummingbird feeders, you find yourself drawn to the area near the adoption center. You heard the sound of soft mewing as you approached, and two feline faces peered out from a cage, their eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and wariness.

Reading the tag, you discovered that they were a girl and boy duo who had just arrived at the store yesterday. Found in a box outside, they looked a bit worse for wear, and the tag mentioned that they were the last ones left for adoption. Unable to resist the pull of compassion, you decided to get a closer look.

One of the cats, the more adventurous of the two, cautiously approached. You extended your hand through the bars, and the cat sniffed it curiously before rubbing the top of its head against your palm. A wave of affection swept over you as you felt the soft fur under your fingers.

The two kitties had tugged at your heartstrings, and you knew you couldn't leave them behind. Your excitement grew, and with a sense of purpose, you started looking for a store worker to inquire about the adoption process. The idea of providing a loving home for them made your trip to the pet store even more fulfilling than you had anticipated.

The front door creaked open, and you slipped inside with a cardboard box cradled carefully in your arms. John, engrossed in something on the TV, glanced your way as he heard the door but didn't pay it much mind until he saw you with the box.

"What's in the box?" curiosity etched on his face.

"Nothing," you replied with a sly smile, but just as you spoke, a soft meow emanated from the box. John raised an eyebrow, immediately skeptical.

"No, you didn't," he declared with a knowing look as the meows continued. You winced slightly, rubbing your stomach, and with a dramatic expression, "Ooo wow, must have been that food I ate earlier. I'm so gassy,"

The meows persisted, growing louder, and you paused. Caught in the act, you couldn't suppress your smile. John just shook his head, laughing at your attempt at secrecy. You kneeled down, letting them out of the box. They slowly peeked their heads out one after the other.

“You got two? love.” You quickly picked one up, holding him up in front of John’s face.

“Look how cute they are hun. This one is Chucky and that one is Tiff. It’s short for Tiffany.” He smiled seeing how excited you were.

As days passed, John's initial amusement turned into exasperation when he found himself facing the challenges that came with the new additions to the family. The first encounter was during a flea bath. Attempting to help, he found himself in a comical struggle as Chucky scratched him when he wriggled in his arms.

"You bloody spawn of the devil!" John exclaimed as he ran up his arm and scratched down his back. Losing his balance, he stumbled foward, ending up in the tub, now covered in cat hair.

You quickly put Tiff down, “Oh my god are you okay?” you helped him out of the tub and left to get a towel. He huffed, glaring at Chucky lick his paw on the bathroom counter as if nothing happened.

Nighttime snuggling became a distant memory as the cats took their positions on either side of you, leaving no room for John to join in. He would glare at them as they slept peacefully, snuggled and warm next to you, and all he could do was shake his head, muttering about "bloody spawns of the devil."

The next morning, as John stood in the kitchen, pouring coffee into a mug, he saw Chucky eyeing him from the counter. He scowled at him.

"You're like a rat, you know that?" he muttered, shooting a glare at him. "You think you can snuggle up next to my wife and kick me to the curb? You're a little devil spawn."

Your head peeked into the kitchen, eyebrows raised. "Did you say something?"

John casually took a step back from the cat, "No, love. Nothing at all." when you left he took a sip of his coffee glaring at Chucky who just slowly blinked at him.

One afternoon, during John's focused work, the duo darted through the house, leaving chaos in their wake as they knocked over his coffee mug. While John sighed in frustration, you got up chasing after them. Catching one of the troublemakers, you held him up to John's face.

"I'm sorry for spilling coffee on your paperwork, I promise it won't happen again," you voiced the imaginary apology on behalf of Chucky. John initially wore an unamused expression until you peeked your head from behind the feline, revealing an apologetic smile. The tension melted, and a reluctant grin spread across John's face.

In the days that followed, the cats, undeterred by John's attempts to shoo them away, found his legs to be irresistible scratching posts. Persistent and curious, they continued their mischief, extending their claws despite John's efforts to maintain a sense of composure.

On one particular night, as John lay on his back, Tiff decided to make herself comfortable. She stretched luxuriously before gracefully climbing onto his chest, kneading his stomach with her paws. After a few rounds of kneading, she curled into a ball, settling on his chest. John huffed out a sigh, feeling the weight of the feline on him. Her large, puffy tail occasionally swiped across his nose, prompting him to turn his head to the side. However, her tail still managed to find its way toward him, eliciting a sneeze or two and a touch of irritation to the otherwise peaceful night.

John couldn't deny the joy the cats brought to the household. John found himself growing attached to the mischievous pair. The initial resistance transformed into reluctant acceptance, and before long, he was reaching for them to scratch behind their ears and indulging them in their nightly cuddle sessions. The stray cats had not only found a home but had also carved out a special place in John's heart.

╭∩╮( •̀_•́ )╭∩╮ << Price to Chucky when reader isn't looking.

168 notes · View notes

series-thoughts · 6 months

Text

I had an angsty BarclayPierce Au idea:

@streets-in-paradise

So I mentioned to @barclaysangel before about fixing the Chucky timeline and the idea of what would have happened if Andy made it to the door in time at the end of Cult.

Basically, he gets to the door, is able to knock Nica out and then escape with her. (Tiffany had gone inside after hearing the alarm since she didn't know what was taking so long)

Andy meets Kyle back at the cabin, and they find out that Chucky was telling the truth about Nica still being there. Nica spends the next year or so at the cabin with Andy, and after just under a year, they find a way to get Chucky out of her.

However, over the time Nica has been staying with him, she's getting more and more concerned about what could happen to Andy if someone found out she was there since she is still a fugitive. She's also kind of afraid of herself after being possessed since she knows she wants to go after Chucky and Tiffany and kill them for everything they've done, especially in regards to Alice. She's afraid that she may have inherited some of Chucky’s bloodlust and what that could lead to. Not helped by the fact that they both have feelings for each other, she doesn't want to risk losing another person she loves.

So eventually, she decides to go one night and leaves a note for Andy explaining why and thanking him for everything, and that's the last he hears from her until the events of season 1 (set in 2021).

Nica has spent the time between then and season 1 on the lamb and tracking Chucky and Tiffany, trying to find out what they are planning and ultimately follows them to Hackensack. Andy and Kyle arrive in Hackensack earlier than in the show (since the timing doesn't make sense), and Andy and Nica end up crossing paths as they're trying to stop Chucky's plan...

#chucky #chucky 2021 #child's play #chucky syfy #andy barclay #nica pierce #kyle simpson #chucky au #eloise's random chucky thoughts #barclaypierce #andy x nica

220 notes · View notes

pray4saint · 8 months

Note

My friend, do you think you could write something for dteam and chucky sammy about if they were having to sleep on the couch or something after an argument?

in the doghouse

masterlist & descrip. tv-ma. 15+. arguments. established relationships. bf!ted, bf!charlie, bf!schlatt. suggestive endings for ted & charlie, fluffy ending with schlatt.

started july 29th, finished sept 5th.

a/n. i'm writing dteam and chuckle sammy separately so here's chuckle sammy, tags: @st4rrybear & @slxtmeri

a/n 2. took like, a month off from writing this but here it FINALLY IS / as i'm finishing this, all of these feel a little out of character, esp schlatt's bc it was rushed but WHATEVER, lmk what you think

ted nivison

you don't even tell him anything, you just bring out a pillow and a blanket to the living room

your boyfriend laughs, ”are you serious?” you nod, ”as a fuckin' heart attack.” your arms remain crossed while you turn to storm off to the bedroom. he looks at your fleeting figure almost questioningly, like it still confuses him. at least until you slam the door behind you, then it becomes so much more real.

unfortunately for ted, he knew he couldn't sleep without you in his arms, or at the very least by his side. after a moment of thought and going back and forth over if it was really worth it to upset you again, he made his way down the hall and pushed the door open without a second thought. his eyes are trained on the floor when he first speaks, ”y/n, angel, honey–” and then he gets choked up, his gaze moving up to you, bare-chested. ”ted i told you to sleep on the couch!” you cross your arms over your chest and ted shakes his head, stepping closer to you. ”you know i can't do that.” he doesn't stop, his steps only getting closer. his arms find their way to yours, and his eyes train themselves on yours. ”teddy, go.” you pull one hand away and point behind him at the door. ”i can't do that either.”

you sigh, trying to keep your angered tone. ”and why is that?”

”because i'm not used to sleeping without you.” he puts on his best dramatics with his next words. ”if you send me back out there, my love, i'll just wait for you to fall asleep and find my way back in here to sleep with you anyways.” you try so hard to bite back the smile that wants so badly to peek out and say hi to him.

with matched dramatics, you let out another sigh. ”fine, but you're gonna have to make it up to me, you know that right?” you look up at him, smile tugging at your lips, and he pulls your chest flush against his chest. he leans down, voice barely a whisper in your ear. ”can i start now?” you nod breathlessly, and ted's lips attach to your neck. ”your wish is my command angel.” oh.

charlie slimecicle

'you know what charlie? you can sleep on the couch tonight.'

he yells back at you. ”but baby, i'm sorry!” you suck air in through your teeth, shaking your head at him. ”it's too late now charlie, now i'm going to bed, i suggest you get some rest.”

charlie waits for you to get back to the bedroom, genuinely debating with himself if he should just sleep on the couch and give you space or go on and beg for forgiveness. ultimately, charlie decided he'd try to sleep on the couch, alone, without you. the thought of it alone sent shivers down his spine and chills up his arms.

your boyfriend tossed and turned on the couch, trying to get comfortable, but he just couldn't. not without you. he sat up, groggy. then his head whipped around at the sound of your footsteps padding down the hallway. the flick of a light switch and the buzz of the lightbulb turned on revealed your figure, sloppily walking in, trying not to wake up too much. but it was too late for charlie, now he was invested in getting back in bed next to you.

he trotted his way back into the bedroom, trying to think of any and every possible solution to make you forgive him.

”y/n?” you jump back when you hear his voice combined with the feeling of his hands on your hips, pulling you closer. ”charlie what the fuck? you scared me.” his shoulders slump down, oops. ”i need you to forgive me. please? i'm sorry.” your eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly and when they did, you could see charlie sat on the bed, legs crossed, hands reached out to thumb circles into your sides, eyes trained on your face even in the dark.

”baby–” you place your hands on his shoulders and he lets out a deep breath. in all honesty, you'd forgotten your anger at him an hour ago, but you still knew he was like soft clay in your hands and under your gaze. ”i can forgive you, no problem, but..” his eyes brightened up and you could feel how his hands tensed against your hips. ”i need to know how you're gonna make it up to me.” your hands flip up so it's just your fingertips dancing along his shoulders. your tone is laced with faux patronisation but he doesn't pick up on it. his hands squeeze at your sides before moving around the front of the waistband of your underwear. ”maybe..” you pull the edge of your bottom lip under your upper teeth with a smile. ”that could work.”

jschlatt

'you can sleep your ass on the couch tonight.'

schlatt tilts his head at you with this condescending look. ”drop the attitude.” at his statement, you return to your argument, getting in his face about it. he tries to bite back the amused smile tugging at his lips at how upset you are before he reaches for your arm, holding you still. ”did'ya not hear me doll?” he pauses for a second, looking down at you. ”drop the fuckin' attitude.”

you have to fight the urge to laugh. ”yeah, no. i recognise that tone, you're not domming your way out of this one.” even though you said it, you weren't a hundred percent sure if you meant it, but still, you held your ground. your boyfriend groans, and his tone of voice changes. ”baby are you serious?” he's almost pleading, and it surprised you how quickly his attitude went from trying to fuck his way out of trouble to being seemingly on the verge of tears. you nod at the taller man, ”yeah. i'll bring you a pillow and a blanket.” you tell him, shaking your arm out of his hard grip before rubbing gently over the spot on your arm.

”but.. no. no no no.” he's calmer now, but still upset. he follows you all the way back to your bedroom. ”i'm sorry baby.” he says almost sheepishly and for a moment, you consider just letting it go, after all; you knew he didn't realise how important the argument was to you. but you had to hold your ground, it'd been a mistake you'd made in past relationships. ”sorry for what j?” you ask, turning around in the doorway to face him – or more accurately, look up at him. despite how much bigger he was than you, you and him both knew that you were in charge here, and despite how difficult it was to get it out, he apologised, again.

”see, now was that so hard?” you ask, a smile spreading across your face as your hands reach up to hold his cheeks. he scoffs and fights the urge to roll his eyes. ”n-no.” you pull his face closer to yours and press a small kiss to his lips. ”you can come to bed later, alright?” he perks up and moves his arms around you, nodding with a wide grin. by later, you meant when he was actually ready to go to bed because you know streamers (no matter how rare they stream), basically nocturnal. ”i love you sweetheart.”

pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.

376 notes · View notes

ryomens-vixen · 6 months

Text

I don't even think I can handle Chucky!Sukuna, Can you?

Contains: NSFW, Comedy, Yandere Tendencies, Vulgar language, Non-Con.

Summary: Before Sukuna passed away he made you promise to bring him back by any means necessary, and you did... But he wasn't too happy about it.

Word count: Idk Sis... 🤷🏾‍♀️

Find my kinktober stuff on my Masterlist

*CRASH*

*SCREAM*

"Ryomen you told me to bring you back by any me- AH!" Yup he was absolutely pissed, stopping your sentence by the chuck of a kitchen knife that pierced the wall just inches from your face. Seeing this angry little devil inside of a children's doll Scurry about the kitchen floor in a tantrum curses and insult was laughable, but you knew who you were dealing with at the end of the day.

"Kuna just calm-"

"Tell me to calm down again, and you'll wish you hadn't!" He pointed his stubby finger at you with an enraged scrunched up face.

"What in your right mind gave you the fuckin idea to do THIS it me? Huh? Is some kinda sick joke? My dumb lovestruck wife couldn't find an actual vessel?!" God he's so hot when he's pissed, when he's degrading you.

"W-Well I wouldn't say dumb-"

"Stop goddamn talking, god I can't hear myself think with you running your mouth~" he paced back and forth about the kitchen area thinking to himself meanwhile all your dumb little brain could think about was his hand wrapped firmly around your neck once the both of you could find a perfect vessel. Hell maybe even once that looked exactly like him, but what? All you could think about was the way he manhandled you all the time. Just thinking about it made you more wet than him degrading you just now- if only he wasn't in the body of a children's toy... Something bigger... Something you could customize like the dildo you begged him to customize in the same size and shape of his cock.

💡💡💡-!!!

"Kuna! I have an idea!" You swiftly picked him up, your perverted mind racing with the thought of customizing a body for him...a sex doll to be precise.

"Well you better make this shit quick I can't stand this picking me up bullshit much longer- Ouch!"

In your excitement you might have accidentally banged his precious forehead against the frame of the door to your bedroom. While snickering about your pervy and full proof idea of transferring his soul to the body of a sex doll. As much as he would absolutely love to entertain the thought sukuna was far too busy trying to hold his temper with you, but at the same time excited to take some anger out on you in due time.

Finally it was here the sex doll you spent a few thousand dollars on made in the same likeness as your late husband. You watched as Ryomen was getting use to his new temporary body, the silicone abs, muscles, cock. Two? You customized it was two? You weren't paying attention, but Sukuna was definitely smirking your way at the thought of you bouncing on both of his cocks. He also thought about fucking you dumb.. But it Would only make you more dumb and he didn't need that at all.

"Do you like it, Ryomen! I worked so ha-" Ryomen had swiftly grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing both of his silicone cocks into your mouth shutting you up completely. "Hey.. Watch the tee- Ah What the hell~" Sukuna kept a tight grip on your hair as he fucked into your throat, He threw his head back letting out a deep groan pushing his cocks balls deep down your throat. Holding you there just the listen to the coughing and gagging you made, patting on his thigh trying to signal to him that you needed air.

"Fuuuuck~ If I wasn't plastic if I wasn't plastic I swear you'd be drinking my fuckin kids right now." He pulled out from your throat, dragging you once again by the hair and tossing you to the bed while listening to how you gasped and wheezed for air. The mere sight of struggle from his lovely, dumb, perverted wife just turned him on even more.

Before you knew it he had your wrists, and ankles all tied up, ball gag in mouth, while he pounded into both of your tight holes. Sukuna watched as tears streamed down your face and eyes rolled back- oh did he take pleasure in that.. Licking your tears from your eyes, yanking and tugging at back of of you head. Right now you were just a dirty little who're to him and he loved every bit of- just like you loved EVERY bit of him right? Right.

"Awww, Does my dirty bitch of a wife want me to stop? Heh I don't think so doll face, You're mine!" He only pounded deeper completely bullying your gspot isn't almost like you could feel him in your guts it felt so good, but it was so overstimulating. It was all too good until you felt a sharp stinging pain on your back causing a muffled scream to come out of you. Sukuna was literally slicing at his name into your back with scary accurate precision. "oh be fuckin quiet, don't you get it baby? I'm a good, fuck..., good guy like that stupid doll says- so I'ma breed and mark you like a GOOD GUY should~"

"Fuck that's so good~"

"Kuuu... N... Na.. ~"

taglist: @blkkizzat @gojos-thot-patrol-main @biscuitsngravie @satkuna @callm3senpaii @candycandy00

Gonna go do my make up for Halloween Bye!

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #jjk drabbles #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #kinktober

204 notes · View notes

tkachuktkaching · 11 months

Text

Celebrating with some much deserved Chucky Love

A few Quotes on Matthew Tkachuk from his Coach & Teammates

"I think Chucky's that guy," "No surprise." - Ryan Lomberg

“Matthew has a sense of what each guy can do, and he has the ability to tailor his game to those different people.” - Panthers Head Coach Paul Maurice

“Chucky knows how to score big goals. His composure and his hockey IQ, he’s such a smart player. It’s a big goal. He’s been great for us all season long, especially in the playoffs.” - Sergei Bobrovsky

“The patience he had at the end, not too many guys have that, but we can talk about that later,

He’s unbelievable. It’s hard to talk about the guy who sits right next to me, but ever since he got here, the first message (Tkachuk sent), it was like we knew each other for 10 years. The way you talk to me and the way you get everyone together with this organization and with this team, how we spend time off ice.

It’s just been an unreal addition. Everyone sees what he does on the ice, but off-ice, it’s been eye-opening with how great of a person he is. How he breathes hockey and everything around it every day. It’s unreal.” - Panthers captain Aleksander Barkov

Photo Erin Brown/Twitter

Quotes : SportsNet & nhl.com

#matthew tkachuk #florida panthers #nhl playoffs #love hearing chucky getting the love #chucky appreciation post

86 notes · View notes

bookshelf-dust · 6 months

Text

community service

ghostface!billy hargrove x fem!reader

word count: 3,714

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, being drunk, drunk driving, domestic abuse (super small mention), rather violent and descriptive murder, literally this is just murder, slight suggestive ideas

a/n: hi!! look at me! i remembered how to write! anyway. this fic has been in the drafts for months, but here it is. one of the kills is inspired by a kill from scream 2, and another is from *i think* the first season of chucky. anyway. it’s not gonna be for everyone! it’s dark and fucked up and kinda questionable. but it’s also for my masked men lovers. i see you. i am you. i hope you enjoy!! i love you!! <333

other ghostface! au’s: steddie & eddie

————

You check your watch for what seems like the millionth time, only for a few minutes to have passed since the last time you looked. Billy is late again, but at least now you know why.

You hadn’t been stupid enough to think he was having an affair, not when you know so much better than that. When you know he’d do anything for you.

The longer you sit here, the more unfocused your eyes get, and you start to think about everything you’ve realized over the past week. Part of you has known for longer. You just didn’t want to overanalyze this, not like you do everything else.

You hoped he’d come to you. But clearly he wants to keep this to himself.

He’d been doing well, too, up until you found the smear of blood inside the bathroom cabinet. He’d pranced around the room half-naked that night after his shower, so you knew he wasn’t the one who’d been injured.

Last week you decided to clean out the closet on your day off. You remembered a pair of shoes that you hadn’t seen in forever, and began looking through all the boxes buried in the corners, under piles of clothes discarded in a rush to get ready.

You’d pulled the lid off a surprisingly light box, only to find a mask. One you’d seen in costume stores, at Halloween parties. On the news.

And you just knew.

There hadn’t ever been an instance where he’d worn it. None of his simple Halloween costumes ever required a mask. He hadn’t ever worn it for you, even if you’d like that much more than you’re sure is normal.

What’s more concerning is that this realization–it didn’t scare you. You aren’t scared now, sitting in the living room, waiting for him to come home, knowing exactly what he’s been up to. He probably thinks you’re in bed by now, anticipating him joining you.

Instead, you sit curled in a chair, socked feet tucked up under you. Your body is tired, you can feel as much, but your mind won’t rest until you’ve taken care of this.

It’s then, when you’re starting to get sick of waiting, that you hear the sound of heavy footsteps, thick-soled boots bounding up the front stairs. Your spine straightens, eyes glued to the way the lock turns with a twist of his key, his shadow as it spills across the floor when he walks inside.

Billy isn’t surprised to see the living room glowing in a yellow light. You usually leave it on for him anyway. What he’s not expecting is to see you sitting in your chair, chin resting on your hand, as you watch him remove his jacket.

“What are you doing up so late, baby?”

You don’t move, just keep your eyes on him as he walks towards you. He’s wearing a black t-shirt, a very tight one, and it occurs to you that you haven’t seen his arms in a little while. They’re bigger. You’re sure of it.

“It’s only eleven forty-five,” you say.

He laughs, dropping gently to his knees in front of you, hands going to rest on your own. He presses a kiss to the top of your bare thigh.

“You’re usually in bed by now.”

He kisses your knee, lips warm against your skin except for where the cold metal of his new piercing touches you. It’s healed, but still strange to see him with it after all this time.

“Wanted to see you.”

Billy is in love with you. And that means he knows you like the back of his hand. So this, the way you’ve sat out here for him, that sad but almost frustrated look in your eye, it tells him everything he needs to know.

It tells him that you know.

You’re a very intelligent woman. You’re his smart girl, and he knew you’d figure it out sooner or later. He’d only kept it from you because he knew you’d worry. Knew you’d overthink it and make yourself crazy. He just wanted you to have some peace of mind. But clearly that hasn’t worked out so well.

“And ask you something,” you continue, reaching down to twist one of his curls around your finger.

There it is.

“Shoot.” Billy wraps his hands around the backs of your knees, fingertips still chilly from the cool night air. His grip is soft, but still possessive.

You rub your nose, look up at the ceiling and take a deep breath.

“When were you gonna let me in on your little secret?”

You can feel his breath on your bare legs when he exhales. He tilts his head and presses his cheek gently against your knee.

“Look at me,” he says, voice firm. You oblige.

“It feels kind of shitty that you kept it from me. That I only found out because I decided to be productive for once and do a little cleaning. We’re not supposed to keep secrets from each other, Billy. That’s what makes this work.”

When you’ve finished, he straightens his back and pushes off the floor. He’s looming over you now. It doesn’t intimidate you, even if it should. If other people might be scared of him.

That’s what he’s stuck on. You’re not scared. You’re not angry about what he’s doing. You’re concerned about fucking communication.

He leans down and sets his hands against the armrests of your chair. You have no choice but to look him in the eye.

“You’re my girl. It’s a crazy world out there.” He lifts one hand and runs his thumb underneath your eye before removing it again. “I gotta keep you safe.”

You drop your head back against the chair. “Jesus christ, Billy. This goes both ways. I want to take care of you just like you do for me. I don’t think it’s fair that you kept this to yourself when I could’ve helped you deal with it, I don’t know.”

He doesn’t scoff. He doesn’t even quirk a brow. He’s taking you seriously, just like always.

“What, you wanna clean me up or somethin’?”

You’re quiet. He rubs the tip of his nose against your cheek.

“You know the answer to that.”

Billy takes your chin in his hand. “I apologize for not telling you earlier. I didn’t want to worry you. It takes awhile to get back from Hawkins, that’s why I’ve been home so late. Work was just an excuse.”

“Hawkins?”

He kisses you, mouth slotting against your own. The way he sucks on your bottom lip leaves you feeling dazed, though you know that’s exactly why he does it. Just to see the look in your eye. He should’ve known you’d take this well.

“Yeah. ‘Lotta shit left behind back there. Best to do some community service while I can, don’t you think?”

There’s a bruise on his bicep, dark in the dim lighting of your living room.

“Yeah, Billy. I think so.”

————

The phone hooked to the wall in Jason’s office starts to ring. He rolls his eyes. Anyone important enough would know what time of day it is, and that means he’s busy.

Jason stands still at the altar, flipping through the last few pages of notes he made for his next service. He checks his watch, noting that he should start confessionals soon. His shoulders rise and fall, steady breaths filling his lungs.

The phone keeps ringing, and it’s starting to make him angry. He stops what he’s doing and stomps out in the hall, stepping just far enough inside the small room to answer the phone.

“What?”

The line is silent, but someone is on the other side, and he knows it.

“Hello? What do you want?”

He hears someone inhale. “Why don’t you lose the attitude, Carver? Still haven’t gotten that stick outta your ass?”

Jason puts the phone in his other hand.

“Excuse me? Who is this?”

“No need to worry about that, Pastor Carver. Now, would you like to play a game, Jason?”

The blonde rubs a hand over his forehead. What is he, five?

“No. I have a job to do. Grow up.” He hangs up the phone, slamming it back in its place before walking back out.

Jason is older now. Went to community college, pursued ministry. He always knew that’s where he would end up. It’s what he deserves. It gives him great power, preaching.

Not that a damn word that comes out of his mouth isn’t bullshit.

But this is what he is good at. He will not be teased. He is important, and he knows it.

He collects his notes from where he’d set them on the altar, picks up his personalized Bible, slips the cap back onto his pen.

The confessional booth is set up in the corner, against the wall with the biggest window. He thinks it’s the most beautiful spot in the church, what with the way the stain glass plays across the floor.

He enters the booth, thumb entwining in the chain around his neck. When Jason started his work, he’d taken part in confessionals much more often. Now that he’s so committed, he has to schedule a specific time period where people can come in.

And he knows they will. They always do. People praise Pastor Carver for being so wise, for guiding them in the right direction, into the right hands.

But he doesn’t take kindly to criticism. He knows what he’s doing. He was made for this. Now he can protect people like him from the people he went to high school with. Now he has real power.

There’s some light shuffling coming from the other side of the booth. Did someone come in? Maybe he didn’t hear them over that stupid phone call. He shouldn’t have answered.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

He’s met with silence. He listens, but there’s nothing. He knows he heard something. He’s still young, in perfect health. He doesn’t make mistakes like that.

“We can begin whenever you’re ready,” he says, wondering if maybe whoever is in the other booth might be shy. If maybe they’re a new member of the church congress.

Still he gets no response. He doesn’t like being ignored. What is with people today?

Jason presses the side of his face against the wood, trying to hear through the small gaps. They’re not wide enough to see through clearly, but he gets a glance at something moving. He knew it. He hears the shuffle again, temper rising.

“Listen, If you’re not gonna—”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. A knife, with a freshly sharpened blade, slices through that cheap wood, settling in his cheek. He can’t speak. The metal scrapes against his teeth. If he were to try, he’d certainly lose his tongue.

Blood fills his mouth, and his ears start to ring. He can’t breathe, can’t hear. When the knife is yanked back, pulled maliciously from his face, he’s so completely shocked that he falls, brain malfunctioning. Shutting down, surely.

Quick and easy was best for someone like Jason Carver. Such a big fuckin’ mouth. Never using it for any good, only to push his corrupt agenda on others—like he’s some god.

He should’ve played the damn game. Maybe Billy ought to forego the phone calls and get eight to it. Seems that being blunt is the only way to get through to these assholes.

Wiping his knife off against his robe, Billy steps out of the booth and walks around to Jason’s side. The man sits on the floor, slumped against the seat. His eyes are open, but he’s lost too much blood to be able to form a retort.

Billy leans down, grabbing at the chain around Jason’s neck. The blonde tries to grab for this mysterious figure's arm, tries to do anything, but it doesn’t matter.

The chain breaks easily, gold cross standing out against his gloved hand. He tucks it into his pocket. Such a waste of space, this guy. So fucking pretentious.

Billy has never been happier to take out the trash.

————

When Billy gets home, he’s pissed. Mainly because he’s dirty. Carver was a bleeder, got that shit everywhere. It’s on the hem of his robe, caked onto his shoe where he had to step up and get the necklace off.

But more so, he’s pissed that he has to be the one to do this. That people are so blind to the shit storm around them.

He kicks the back door shut behind him.

“Billy?” Your voice calls out to him.

“Headin’ to the bathroom, sweet thing.” He hears you hop off the bed and pad down the hall.

You’re such a fuckin’ sweetheart. He can’t believe it.

You walk into the bathroom the moment he throws the mask down on the toilet seat, blood staining the white material. You watch him put his shoes and the robe in the tub.

He spins around, a smile spreading across his face. “Hey, baby. How’s my girl?”

You meet him halfway for a kiss. “I’m okay. Are you?”

“Better now that I’m with you. Listen, can you do me a favor, sugar?”

You nod.

“In the back of the closet, you know where, there’s a little jewelry box. Can you bring it in here?”

“Of course.”

He winks at you, tying his curls up on the top of his head. “Be quick.”

When you return, he opens the box, and your heart drops at the sheer amount of jewelry inside. But the longer you look, the more you realize what this is.

He’s kept something from everyone. There are rings. Chains. Keyrings. Holy shit. There’s a pair of earrings that look like some Karen Wheeler used to wear. Something very expensive looking, like only a Harrington would have. There’s a lighter, too. With the last name Byers engraved on it.

You stop gawking when Billy tosses the cross necklace inside. He’s almost done. And when he is, you’ll both get out of here. He’s gonna give you such a good life. You just don’t know his plans yet.

“It’s so much safer without them here, you know that, baby?”

Billy looks you in the eye. You push a curl back behind his ear.

“I know. You do such a good job, Billy.”

————

Tommy Hagan has been a piece of shit since elementary school, and he’s destined to be one for the rest of his life.

He works at a car dealership, still in Hawkins, still drinking and pretending like he’s seventeen. He peaked in high school, and everyone knows it. Shit, he knows it, and that’s why he’s still clinging to this lifestyle, even when no one else has.

Fucking Steve Harrington even got his ass out of Hawkins, and that’s saying something. Tommy thought Steve would be there for the rest of his life, raising that stupid family he blabbed about, sending the kids to the same schools, but no.

Even Carol left. The woman he should have married. The chick he treated like shit after they graduated, all because he wasn’t ready to grow up–and she was.

He’s still not ready. Not as he sits in his living room, alone because his wife went to stay with her sister. He’s been drinking out of his ass lately, and the other night, he put his hands on her. Tommy isn’t even sure he cares, if he’s honest with himself.

He’s an insecure asshole. He was in high school, and Billy saw the way he treated you because you were quiet. Saw the way he spoke to Carol when they were alone, the way he’d corner other girls at football games or parties, even when Carol was looking for him.

It doesn’t matter who he married. Not really. Tommy Hagan was destined to become a deadbeat wife-beater, and he’d never have had the initiative to change that.

He finishes the beer he’s been nursing and pushes off the couch, heading for the kitchen to find another.

He tosses the bottle into the garbage can rather than the recycling, and it seems to hit hard enough that it shatters inside the trash bag. He shrugs it off. It’s not like he ever takes it out anyway.

Tommy pulls the refrigerator door open, metal handle cool under his fingertips. That was his last beer.

“Y’gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

He slams the door closed, the rattling of jars and bottles inside echoing throughout the quiet room. He presses his forehead against the wall, thinking. Shit, if he can’t drink, he might as well eat something.

There’s a TV dinner in the freezer. He pulls it out, shoving it in the microwave as quickly as possible.

Something else that hasn’t changed: how fucking impatient Tommy is. He can’t even handle waiting the two minutes required for his food.

He opens drawers, trying to find the silverware before realizing it’s all dirty. He can’t believe this shit.

He yanks open the dishwasher and pulls out the bottom rack. The microwave starts to beep though, and Tommy backs off for a moment to retrieve his dinner.

With how loud the beeping was, he didn’t hear anyone approach. Didn’t hear the floorboards creak. Didn’t realize that there was someone lurking behind him.

He removes the TV dinner and wipes his hands down his face. “Fuckin’ hell.”

He bends down once more, reaching for a knife so that he’ll be able to cut up his tiny steak.

He doesn’t expect to be shoved, not in the safety of his own home. And he’s certainly not quick enough or to be able to prevent it himself from stumbling, tripping, unable to catch himself. He yells out, but there’s no one else to hear it.

He grabs for the counter, but it’s much too slippery with that fucking vinyl countertop. He’s got no chance.

Tommy Hagan falls forward. When he realizes where he’s headed, what his body is falling over, he thinks for a moment that he should try and brace himself for the fall. But it’s no use. Nothing about his situation is providing him a way out.

His body collides with the silverware basket, into every knife and fork standing there. Like they were waiting for him.

It’s happened so fast that he can’t even scream. All that comes out is a strangled moan. He’s bleeding and he can feel it. He can hear the footsteps behind him, and he tries to reach for the floor, tries to push up and twist to see who’s done this to him. His hand slips in the mess, but he doesn’t have to do much when someone is pulling his hair, using it as leverage to yank him up. The knives below him scrape and drag, his skin tugging in unnatural ways.

Tommy coughs, blood filling his mouth. He can’t speak. He can’t do the one thing he’s good at: open that big mouth.

The masked figure looming over him grabs his other hand, causing him to press further into the silverware. He screams, but it comes out garbled as they tug off his wedding ring.

Tommy’s hair is released, and he sinks impossibly deeper, metal piercing everything.

“Such a shame, Hagan.” The figure speaks. Tommy doesn’t recognize the voice. He wishes he could yell, ask what they want, why they’re doing this–but he can’t.

“Never deserved that wife of yours. Never deserved anything you got. But this? Yeah, this is the surprise you needed.”

The last thing Tommy hears is his own front door slamming shut and locking. How did they get a key? He’ll never know. He’ll die here, and no one is coming for him.

————

When Billy slips into bed with you that night, he coaxes your head onto his chest, wanting to feel you. Wanting to know that you’re really there. He leans down to kiss you, finding your eyes glued to the closet door. You know it’s in there.

“What is it, baby?”

You blink, shaking your head. You sit up some, and slip your hand under the edge of his t-shirt, fingers running over the soft of his warm tummy.

“Is this fulfilling for you? Is it something you think you’ll do forever?”

Billy allows himself to think for a moment, and while he does, he gently pulls you closer, leaning up to get that kiss he wanted. When he pulls away, he has an answer for you.

“It’s not something I want to do forever, no. I know we moved to the city and out of Hawkins, but I go back there because it doesn’t feel right to leave those motherfuckers there, roaming around and making it worse. There are good people there, and they don’t deserve to live in a place that’s drowning in shit. So yeah, it’s fulfilling in that I know I can make it a better place. I can protect the people who once protected me.”

And that’s true. Joyce is still there. He talks to her on the phone a few times a week. Shit, the woman is practically his surrogate mother. Max is still there, in college with her friends. Sure, she’ll transfer soon, but still. He can’t leave it like that.

He would’ve taken care of Neil had he not done that himself. Stomped off one night, drunk, and never came home. He got in an accident. Billy was glad to skip that chore.

“I’m almost done, sweetheart, I promise. Just wanted to leave behind something better. I won’t do this much longer. Just wanna keep you safe. It’s so scary out there, baby. I only want the best for you.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, watching his chest rise and fall. This should freak you out, shouldn’t it? It should alarm you? It doesn’t. He’s so good at this. He’s a natural. Doesn’t leave a trace. You do feel safer, admittedly.

“I understand. I just want you to be careful.”

His nails scratch lightly at your neck. “Hey, you don’t have to worry about that. I’ve got this. Nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby. This hellhole is gonna be so much better when I’m done.”

“Yeah, Billy. It is. Then maybe we can get out of here for real.”

“Of course. Anything for my girl.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#savannah’s fics #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #ghostface!billy hargrove #ghostface!billy #billy hargrove x female reader

199 notes · View notes

dontbethatguy20 · 5 months

Note

Hellooo! Chucky has been recently added to DBD, as you probably know, but I'm not sure if you are willing to write for him :( If you are, I've got a silly little request that goes like this: survivor reader is downed by Chucky, but before he can summon his spirit to carry them to the hook they tap his nose and go: "Boop!" (If you are okay with it, I would also love to know Tiffany's reaction to getting booped in the nose!) Thank you and no hard feelings if you don't write for them! 🩷

I love this. It's adorable :) Don't worry, I got you.))

Chucky:

He'll be taken back and he'll freeze for a moment and be like "Ok, what the fuck?"

He'd take a couple of seconds to process before he just shakes out of his head before probably doing his mori on you out of spite.

I feel in the next trial with you he'd see you, he'd roll his eyes and be like, "Really? This guy agian" then save you for last probably couse imhe thinks you're going to do it agian and dosnt want it to happen.

When he finally gets to you agian, he'd probably be one of two things, be irritated but let you do it before killing you like "get it over with" and he'd roll his eyes or just try to kill you before you could do it agian.

Story to go with:

Five minutes was all it took. Five minutes for 3 of the strangers I arrived in this fog with to be picked off one by one.

I looked on from the cover of a bush maybe 20 feet away as the last of my improvised team fell.

A piercing laugh ripped through the cold night air. “That’s what you get when you play with dolls asshole!” The possessed doll’s knife sliced through skin and muscle easily cutting the terrified scream short.

A choked whimper escaped my lips, “Shit.” I whispered quickly clasping my bloodstained hands to my mouth. A futile attempt it seemed.

Chucky’s head spun with a sickening click. His plastic eyes lit with excitement for yet another plaything.

“I know you’re there you little shitstain!” He twirled his knife, coated with viscera gleaming in the moonlight.

My thoughts raced through my options. He knows I’m near. If I move he’ll hear me. What can I do? Shit! Maybe if I stay here he’ll leave thinking I ran away. Wait…where did he go…?

Chucky was no longer near the body he’d just disemboweled.

He left!

I backed out of the bush slowly.

I have to find the gates.

“Hide and seek is over fuckface! Guess what?! You lose!” My head whipped around to face the 2 foot killing machine just in time to witness the blade sink into my thigh bringing me to my knees. A scream tore itself from my throat whether from pain or shock was unclear.

My head was screaming at me to run but my injured leg refused to cooperate.

This is it. I’m going to die here.

“What’s wrong? Don’t wanna play tag?” Chucky snickered and readied himself for the final blow. “Say goodnight!”

He really is an actual doll… possessed. I wonder…

Before he could attack I allowed myself to act on an intrusive thought.

In one swift motion I reached out and with one finger I gently pressed the doll’s nose. “Boop.”

He froze. His hands fell to his sides, face scrunching in visible confusion.

“Boop? Fucking boop?!” He shook his head and cackled loudly holding his midsection to steady himself from the laughter. “Thanks for the laugh kid, I’m gonna have to tell Tiff about this one.” He grinned maliciously, his knife raised above his head, “Game over!”

The last sensation I felt was the cold steel scraping my ribs. The sound of my own innards being thrown in the dirt and that damned laughter, my lullaby.

Tiffany:

She'd be taken aback a little but be like, "Oh, cute, kinda adorable," like she'd actully like what you did.

She'd probably complain to chucky that he doesn't do adorable shit like that. "Why don't you do shit like that, you dipshit?" That's what she'd say to him

She'll still hook ya, but if you get off hook, she'll then come after you last couse she thought it was adorable. But if you're lucky she'll let you get hatch.

If you guys are in a trial and she sees you agian, she'd be like, "Oh, you agian" in a happy tone of voice and she'd wonder if you'd do it agian.

Tiffany's story to go with:

You were in a trial, the sound of other survivors around, the sounds of screams here and there.

You have been lucky enough to do a couple of gens without too much trouble until you were on your way to a gen you saw. You ran over, or tried at least. That's when you heard little tippy tappies behind you. You looked, and there she was, Tiffany, coming straight for you.

You screamed in fear and then ran. You did run her a good while, enough for a couple of other survivors to finish a gen, and that's when she got you. She was about you just kill you from the ground but that when you got a good look at her. "She's just a pretty doll," you thought. You, by impulse, just booped the tip of her nose.

She paused for a moment before speaking. "Awww, that was kinda cute." it gave her a little smile.

"I'll let you live this once, only couse I got to complain to chucky about not doing shit like that." she'd then carry you to hatch.

(Mines kinda short lol

Credit

Chuckys story and editor of my post : https://www.tumblr.com/astarionsrightnipple

#dbd x reader #dbd #dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #chucky x reader #Tiffany x reader #chucky Tiffany x reader #Tiffany chucky x reader #dbd chucky x reader #dbd chucky #dbd Tiffany #dbd Tiffany x reader

140 notes · View notes

alsofortheb0ys · 7 months

Text

DEPOWERED HOMELANDER × MALE READER

I LOVE DEPOWERED HOMIE! I WANNA SQUISH HIM 🤏🧍‍♂️Sorry, if the ending feels rushed cause it was lol. And I didn't proofread too also👍

John sat quietly on the floor maybe a little too close to the television for the good of his now human eyes. He wasn't really paying attention to the random Chopped episode, just giving his harsh feedback at the chef's mistake.

He had no right to given the fact that he has no knowledge of cooking. The box mac and cheese with undercooked noodles and chucky sauce that was still in the pot that sat in his lap that he was eating with an Ikea kids spoon.

Ever since losing his powers nearly a year ago, this was the daily occurrence for John. A constant cycle of depression that never went away.

His whole purpose, the reason of existence was stripped away from him. Vought quickly got rid of him without thought.

They took nearly everything. His apartment and other properties he had. Most of his money. Gave himthe excuse that the bank was a Vought account since he had no form of identification to open one.

Sure, they gave him enough to live out the rest of his life but it was pay for his silence that came with a NDA but they offered no mental treatment for all those years of manipulation and abuse they put him through.

Now he just sits at his and Y/N shared apartment waiting for his return. Y/N was his sole reason to keep going. His light that never stopped shining.

Y/N still worked for Vought, sometimes being gone for days or weeks. There wasn't much of an option to leave. They had trapped him just like John.

Even using John as bait for him to stay. He gets John, Vought gets Y/N.

John wasn't stupid, he knew Y/N wasn't staying by choice but still he felt betrayed.

Y/N always greeted John with the biggest smile and shower him with kisses and praise. John couldn't get his head around how he still loved him. Most of the time John didn't shower of days, still in clothes cover with sweet Thai chili sauce and sweat from his nightmares.

Powerless and useless.

Today would be no different. After getting to the last bit of his food, John hears Y/N's key jiggling as the lock turns.

"Johnny, I'm home!" Y/N says kicking off his snickers as he never comes home without changing out if his costume. Not wanting to risk their privacy and identities.

"You cooked something? It smells good!" Y/N said with enthusiasm.

"Yeah, I did that pasta and cheese thing in a box." John answered with a smile, slightly pride of himself for cooking and because he was happy to see his boyfriend.

"Give me a bite. I'm hungry." Y/N flopped down on the couch, placing his legs on either side of John.

"Is this a new episode?" Y/N says with a mouthful of noodles.

"Yeah, sorry I didn't wait to watch it with you. I wasn't sure when you'd be back."

Usually the two of you watched it together. It was silly but the show was a comfort, reminding him of you and it always eased his mind.

"It's okay. Just watch it with me again."

Y/N began kissing the back of John's short hair that was now brown as the dye wore off and John didn't bother to dye agian. John decided to shave his hair due to the fact it got matted and tangled due to him not bathing.

Well, he did it with your help. John cried while you did it. It felt like he was saying goodbye to who he was. He was no longer The Homelander. A god among men. But John. A weak mud person.

"Stop, Y/N. I'm dirty." John tried slipping away but Y/N's arms were quick to wrap around him, locking him in place. He felt shameful he didn't shower. If he had enough self well, he'd usually shower if he knew you were coming home even though it felt like a huge task.

"It's fine. Don't care. I just want to kiss you."

John gave in and signed. Truthfully, he didn't want him to stop. He loved it. Loved any ounce of affection Y/N gave him, even though he knew he didn't deserve it.

They sat in silence while finishing the episode. Y/N never stopped giving John kisses, just slowed down, giving them ever so often.

"Want to take a bath with me?" Y/N asked as the credits rolled.

"Yeah, that'd be nice. Let me just wash the dishes."

John went to get up but Y/N sat him down.

"Let me soak it and l'lI I deal with it tomorrow." Y/N grabbed the pot and ran to the sink before John could argue.

Even though the act was sweet, it upset John.

Validated he feelings of being useless. John felt tears prick his eyes but quickly blinked them away.

"Alrighty! Ready to go, baby?" Y/N bounced back into the living room, outreaching his hand for John to take.

John nods and stands to his feet, taking Y/N's hand into his. Without any warning, Y/N scoops John into his arms. His arms tuck under John's legs, their chests touching.

Instead of giving protest, John begins to cry uncontrollably. Y/N begins to panic while in his stops right in his tracks.

"Baby? John, you alright? Did I hurt you?"

Y/N tries to turn John's face to look at him, his right hand gently resting on his cheek but John doesn't move.

"No...no..no. P-please...I'm sorry." John wails, his tears soaking Y/N's shirt.

John felt so stupid in the moment. He was crying like a baby while being held like one.

What sets him off is when he remembers when he'd carry Y/N. To the bedroom. The bathroom. After a long day.

John loved being taken care of but he loved giving care. For most of his life, he made decisions based on his satisfaction but when he found Y/N, he felt selflessness. He gave love as pure as Y/N's.

But he can't do it anymore. He takes more than he gives. Y/N gives his all while John wastes away, taking and taking.

He's powerless. Just another thing added to the growing list of things he can never do again.

"No, baby. Don't be sorry. What's got you upset, puppy?" Y/N rubs small circles along John's back as he calms down.

John feels like he's cried all the tears he had. He just whimpers while chewing on the collar of the dirty shirt he was wearing.

It was a coping method Y/N taught him. For the longest time, when John had a panic attack or was overwhelmed, he would hit his fists against his head or bite his lip.

When he was a supe he ran no risks of hurting himself, but he wasn't any more.

He'd bite his lip bloody and bruises covered his cheeks for the first few months. Y/N was there every step of the way, whispering praise and sweet words as he cried himself tired.

Today was no different.

John sniffed, still chewing on his shirt.

"Puppy, you want to talk about it or we can later? But we're going to have too. It's important I understand what's going on with you. I need to know what's the matter."

Another thing that made John hate himself. To Y/N it was important he knew John's emotional well-being but John never paid attention to his.

He couldn't count how much times Y/N would come home stressed from Vought breathing down his neck or how times Ashley called during one of his very few off days.

It was because John didn't understand his own emotions let alone someone else's. He was never taught how to properly deal with them. Just left alone to bottle them up till he exploded.

But Y/N helped him even though John felt like he was going nowhere. Y/N was so patience and caring it almost makes him sick.

"Y/N...I'm useless. W-why don't you hate me?" John finally whispers out, slightly muffled by the t-shirt in his mouth.

"Oh Johnny, you're not." You gave a kiss to his temple. "I love you. Love you so much."

"N-no, y-you're lying. No one can love me." John could feel himself being to tear up again.

"No, baby. Look at me." Y/N gently takes John's face in yhis left hand, making him look at him this time. "I love you with powers and without."

"You sure?" John bearly whispers.

"Yes, baby. More than anything." You promise. "Now do you want to tell me what's up?"

John signs and snuggles his face against Y/N's neck.

He follows Y/N steady breath and feels their heartbeats almost in sync. The warmth of his skin against his.

"I just want to be able to care for you. To be strong for you." John sniffles, he wants to cry again. "But I can't. Feel so useless and weak.

"Aw, my baby. You're not. You're so so strong and I'm so proud of you. I know it's hard for you and can't even imagine how hard you've had it but I'm here for you no matter what."

"You promise?" John's voice was bearly auditable. He sounded like a child making his parent promise that there was no monster under the bed.

"Yes, puppy. I promise." Y/N seals the promise in with a kiss on John's forehead. "How about that bath? You have some cheese on your hair."

"Yeah. I'd still like that."

"Alrighty, baby. You wanna walk or you wanna be carried the rest of the way?"

"Carry. Please." John's words slurred slightly. It seemed that all the crying had suddenly taken all his energy.

"Ok, Princey. All that crying must have gotten you tired huh?"

John doesn't verbally answer but just nods againstY/N's neck. They make their way to the bathroom, Y/N humming a little tune; John closes his eyes and listens.

Y/N sets John on the side of the tub and fills the water, checking once in a while to see it the water's too hot or too cold. He added a bath bomb, a gentle scent of lilies.

Oncethe tub is filled, Y/N begins to take off John's clothes. He never really wore much. Usually one of Y/N's shirt and a pair of boxers.

John closed his eyes tightly. Lately he had a hard time looking at his own body. He was never as muscler as his suit used to show but he didn't need them with super strength. He was much more scrawny now and it made him once again feel weak.

Y/N's warm hands grounded John before he strayed more into his self consciousness. He had picked him up and put him into the warm water. John had opened his eyes to Y/N's removing his clothes.

John smiled. His boyfriend was gorgeous. He felt like he could stare at him for days just admiring his beautiful figure.

"Did I ever tell you you're handsome?" John said as he closed his eyes again. This time not to advoid seeing himself but relaxing into the bath.

"Lots, yes." You chuckle as you gently move John forward so you can sit behind him.

"Well, you are."

Both fell silent as they enjoyed their bath together. Y/N's wandered, lathering soap on John's body. His hair, his back, his shoulders, his chest, every part of him treated gently.

"Y/N?" John breaks the silence.

"Yes, puppy?"

"Thank you. For everything. I know I'm hard to deal with. I'm trying to get better. I promise. You stayed though you didn't have to. But you did. I want you to know I'm grateful." John teared up again, not out of sadness this time.

"It's okay, Johnny. I stay cause I love you. I know you're trying and you have been better. Just baby steps."

John did feel better. He had a ways to go but Y/N was with him and that was all that mattered.

#homelander #the boys series #homelander x male reader #homelander x reader #depowered homelander #homelander fanfiction

173 notes · View notes

dirtybitfic · 3 months

Text

HALLOWSEVE

matt sturniolo fanfiction

contains ~ mask kink, party, drinking, smoking,running (you'll see what I mean), choking , slapping, (Nick names like ma baby slut and sir)SMUTTTTT

y/n pov~

I was getting ready to go to this party in a graveyard tonight.

you may be thinking why the actual fuck is someone throwing a party in a graveyard. Buuuuut that's a very normal in the small town I live in . Everybody's parents are either always home or they'll snitch if someone has a party without their parents knowing so we have all our partys in the graveyard.

the grave yard is on the west side of town which is the more rugged part most of the super hot bad boys with tattoos like on that side of town. my side of town is the more "proper" side . My parents expect me to get a's and b's always have a clean room and never do anything that will look bad and bring shame to their name.

I HATE MY FUCKING PARENTS like im just a girl who wants to go out have fun and make bad decisions from time to time so when hallows eve rolls around I get EXTRA fucking excited for the weekend.

This year im dressing chuckys bride Tiffani. I think the movies are a good laugh and I just love the makeup for it so it was an easy choice.

This is the entire outfit .

I had already put my dress on and decided to do some fake blood to spice up the look for some reason I feel really hot covered in blood.

I based my makeup on this look but just kept my normal eyebrows and drew them in black and shaped them a little thinner. I decided it was time to get my wig on.

My best friend Lena just got here so I went down to let her in and damn she looks so hot .

HEY BIIITCH

HEYYY YOU LOOK SO FUCKING HOT

YOU TOO ALL COVERED IN BLOOD AND SHIT

YOU DONT THINK ITS TOO MUCH

NO GIRL IT MAKES YOUR LOOK 10 TIMES HOTTER

OKAY GOOD LET ME GET MY STOCKINGS AND BOOTS ON THEN WE CAN START WALKING TO THE PART OKAY.

alright I'll wait in the living room.

okay ill just be a second

I went and threw on my stocking and boots and grabbed my pen and put it in my pocket in my jacket along with my phone.

Okay lets get going

we started walking and surprisingly the boots are easy and confortahbe to walk in so far . the walk is about 20 minutes.

we would drive but lena totaled her car last moth and since my parents are always gone on business trips they told me they didn't feel like buying me a car said it waisted their money. sooo yeah I don't have a car due to my parents greed. lovely right .

girl I can't wait to see the westside guys tonight.

same bitch same I need to see some men who actually have a personality and are hot all the guys on our side of town are boring

no for real they are bland and can't fuck for shit

I just know half these west side boys are crazy in bed

I bet they are dominant too

oooh bitch and if I see a man in a mask im jumping on his plain and simple

realest shit I've heard in weeks and trust girl if I see a man covered in tattoos with lights eyes and light hair he's mine plain and simple

you know I've always wanted to be fucked in a grave yard and chase through one and oh my god imagine a man dragging you into the crypts fuck that would be the best night of my life

fuckkk bitch that actually sounds like the actual hottest thing ever.

RIGHT LIKE DRAG ME DOWN THOSE STAIRS IN THE DARK AS I KICK AND SCREAM IN FEAR AS YOU DRAG ME BY MY HAIR AND THROW ME ON THE GROUND AS FUCK ME LIKE A SLUTTTT

damn girl you really need some dick tonight cause wow that was a lot

buuuuut I agree

hahah yeahhh that's if I can find a man worth my time you know im picky

yeah I know but hey I have a feeling this hallows eve is gonna be a good one

I fucking hope so

we start to get closer to the graveyard and start to hear faint music as we got closer

we got to the gates and saw a shit tone of people in the further back of the yard drinking and dancing the music was a lot louder now as we walked through the gates and over around the people who were dancing.

I pulled out my pen and took a couple hits handing it to lena to take a couple hits.

hey y/n I hear behind me I turn around to see its a guy from my chemistry class I don't remember his name and honestly I don't care to try .

umm hi

you look really hot I almost didn't recognize you

oh yeah what gave it away

your ass I could spot it from a mile away

oh how nice well if you'll excuse me i'm gonna go get a drink

oh um yeah okay we'll see you in class monday

mmhm yeah bye

I hate men like what the fuck you could have said my eyes or my hands or anything else but my fucking ass but noooo

I was walking over to the coolers the I spotted a tall man holding a ghost face mask in his hand talking to some other super hot guys .

they looked a bit older maybe early 20s but fuck me the one holding the mask is so hot i'm drooling . I bent over to grab a drink and he turned around looking at something deeper in the woods I followed his direction and saw a crypt slowly peep out of the shadows.

it looked so ominous and creepy which excited me but I looked back at him to find him starting at me .

I took a deep breathe as we made deep eye contact he started smirking at me and then made his way over to me I just stood here maintaining eye contact as a small smile crept onto my face.

I know I said I was picky but fuck the man is everything I want and more he's tall, blue eyes dark hair , a sexy ass smirk, and is covered in tattoos. He has a lure to him and im determined to find out what it is .

as he stands infant of me I have to look up to meet his gaze .

god his face looks like it was carved from the gods his jaw is so sharp and his cheekbones are so sculpted along with his very dead boy eye that drive me up a wall.

what's your name beautiful

I almost folded right then and there his voice is deep and demanding it send sock waves straight to my pussy.

y/n

it nice to meet you y/n

its nice to meet you too uuuh

matt

Matt its nice to meet you

so you in high school y/n

yep im a senior

nice nice so your like what 18

im a actually 19 I uh failed first grade

hmmm interesting

why is that interesting

it thought girls like you never failed anything so poised and perfect all the time

yeah well I guess it'll come as a shock to you im far from perfect and poised

oh really he says with a smirk

yep sure is

okay then what's the craziest thing you've done

I broke into my ex boyfriends house and smashed his car to pieces when I found out he was cheating on me

damn fiesty, I like that

yeah he messed with the wrong fucking bitch. most people think im little miss perfect when im actually just a psychotic mess

a very sexy psychotic mess

oh really

yeah princess this might come a shock but I don't normally talk to girls at these parties but there's something about you I just couldn't resist

as long as you don't say it was my ass well be good

why would I say it was your ass

ah some loser form one of my classes said the only reason he could tell I was me tonight was my ass because he could pick it out of a crowd pretty much

well that's objectifying

right like ew I mean yeah I know my ass is nice I mean I guess but why did he think that would make me like him

cause hes a little fucking high school boy

oh yeah so im guessing your not in high school anymore

nope graduated 2 years ago im 20

god I can't wait to be out of that hell whole and leave this town

yeah I get that small towns are meant for everyone

yeah its definitely not the place I wanna be living fir the rest of my life

same ... hey you wanna go for a walk go check out the crypts

id love too

he grabs my hand as we start walking further in the the grave yard I look back and see lena talking to one of his friends who I know is her type so she won't be missing me and I sure won't be missing her with Matt right next to me.

so you ever gonna it mask on matt

why do you want me too

maybe maybe not

I will later youll see

well that was kinda creepy wait your not taking me out her to murder me are you

no id never kill someone so beautiful it would be such a waste

I just looked up at him smiling at this point we already passed the first crypt he had been eyeing earlier and were so far form he party the music is no longer in ear shot.

the only sound is the leaves crunching under our feet and the cicadas its slightly creepy but it also has me becoming a bit turned on .

I sigh as I see flashes of Matt chasing me in his mask and dragging me into a crypt and fucking my brains out

what is that pretty little mind of yours thinking right now princess

what oh uhhh nothing nothing

that sigh didn't sound like nothing

okay fine I was just thinking about a fantasy ive always had about this grave yard and the crypts

okay explain he says as we come to a stop and he sits down on one of the raised graves. I go to sit next to him but he pulls me onto his lap.my breathe hitches as the sudden contact of my ass on his lap but I just stare off ahead of us at the willow trees surrounding the wooded areas.

I feel his breathe on my neck

tell me this fantasy ma

the nick name has me becoming wet its so hot

well its starts off with me being chased through the graves and the woods to the biggest crypt and the guy chasing me catches me and drags me down the stairs of the crypt and throws me to the floor fucking me as he calls me his dirty little slut amongst other things.

wow very detailed how long have you had this fantasy

since I was 16

hmm have you ever told anyone else about this before

yeah one of my ex boyfriends . I told him before we were coming to a party here seeing if he would make it a reality and he stopped the car told me to get out and walk and said I was mentally ill and disgusting and broke up with me.

what a pussy I mean a guy like me would have jumped at the chance for a girl to even have a fantasy remotely like that.

what do you mean a guy like you

a dominant man who isn't scared of a little fun and games

mmmm I moan as I shift on his lap

are you a submissive type of girl y/n

ye-yeah I guess

you like when a man takes control tells you how much of a slut you are as he makes you shake and cry underneath him hmm

oh fuck im so turned on right now I dotnt even know how to react

ohh yeah I bet you do . you like when a guy smacks you ass so hard it leaves a mark or when a guy slaps you across the face so hard you head snaps to the opposite side.

mmm yeah I-i d-do

someones a little turned on . aren't you ma

mmm was all I could get out a small moan answering his question

he slaps my thigh hard causing me to gasp.

answer me when I ask you a fucking question

ye-yes im sorry

im sorry what

im sorry sir

mmm good girl now stand up

what w-why

because I fucking told you too now stand up

I stood up and turned sound to face him I kept my head down as he stood tall and slim infant of me . I saw his hand holding the mask move up and I followed his movements he held the mask next to face smirking.

you got a mask kink ma?

wh-what I -

don't even think about lying to me right now

I sighed looking down yes I whispered

what was that im sorry I couldn't hear you

I said yes

drop the attitude

yes sir

good girl he says as he slips the mask on making my stomach flutter and a gush of arousal soak my underwear

now im gonna give you a head start

wh- a head start for w-what

your fantasy ma you better start running

b-but im in heels what if I--

1...2...

I turn and start sprinting the best I can in these fucking boots. I can't believe this is actually happening right now the hottest guy i've ever seen is making my fantasy a reality. He had no hesitation and I know for damn sure he is gonna fulfill my needs just the way he carries himself tells me he knows how to make a girl feel good .

I start to run out of momentum I turn to see him coming in hot behind me as he runs into me grabbing me from behind causing me to scream from the impact.

caught ya

mm seems like it what a shame im breathing hard from running so far

he throws me over his shoulder causing me to let a small laugh out

get all your laughs out now ma cause i'll have you doing nothing but screaming in a second .

all I did was moan at the thought. He gave my ass a hard slap causing me to moan into his back

he came to a stop and set me down I turned to see why he stopped and was met with a large stone entry way with a door at the end.

wow

yeah creepy right

yeah but also beautiful

come on ma time to get you screaming my name

oh fuck I said as he grabbed my arm and started dragging me towards the door

he kicked the door open easily and started ascending the stairs I stumbled into his back causing him to yank me infant of him as he held me by the hair .

mm ow matt

keep fucking walking your fine

its so da-dark

what you scared of the dark or something

k-kinda y-yeah

aww cute

I heard the flick of a lighter and then there was light shining down the stairs I guess there was a torch on the wall because he lit it and handed it me so I could carry it and see as we kept walking down the stairs. Once we reaches the bottom I looked around taking in our surroundings.

there were more torches on the walls so I went and lit them with the one I was holding then put it out so I could set it down.

I turned to look at Matt he had taken the mask off and threw it aside I could finally see his beautiful face again causing me to smile .

what?

nothing just like looking at you

oh really and why is that?

I don't know your just so... beautiful ... dark and mysterious but you feel so --- safe and warm you know

wow ... ive never been described like that before

oh really? how are you usually described

dark, mean , cold, asshole , crazy

I don't think that at all

im glad you don't I like your description much more

yeah me too he walked towards me and stood right infant of me

he put his hand around my neck chocking me slightly making me look up at him.

( listen to My own summer and beware by deaftones and for the next part)

he leans down so are lips are almost touching .

Im gonna ruin you

do it

He attaches our lips the kiss is deep and needy.

His other hand moves to my ass giving it a squeeze making me moan into the kiss.

He moves his hand from my neck down to my jacket taking it off. then moving my dress straps down my arms pulling the top to bunch at my waist as he breaks the kiss and moves down to neck sucking and biting leaving marks in his way.

mmmm matt i moan as he moves to my tits liking and sucking my nipples.I tug at his shirt wanting him to take it off and he does .

Get on your knees now

I get down to my knees and look up at him waiting for his next move he started undoing his belt and I just watch as his large veiny hands move to his button and zipper of his jeans pulling them down.

He's left in his boxers and I can see his large dick print being confined by the thin fabric .

well are you gonna just sit there or do I need to tell you what to do

I move to remove his boxers as his dick pops out . I start salivating just looking at it he's pretty big and thick too .

I take him in my hand and pump a couple times before giving the head small kisses and licks I go down to the base and lick up them take him in my mouth

mmm fuck that's a good girl

I moan around his tip from his small praise and continue to suck hard but at a slow pace trying my best not to gag.

He takes my hair in his hands and starts thrusting into my mouth causing me to gag and tears to well up in my eyes.

Good girl sucking me in so good

I moan again causing him to throw his head back and thrust harder after a second he pulls out of my mouth as I start couching .

He kneels down in front of me putting his hand on my chest and pushes me back til im laying on my back on the rough ground.

Im gonna make you cum so hard your legs are shaking around my head ma

oh fuck matt please

He takes off my dress and panties so I’m fully exposed to him.

he moves down so his head is between my legs . I jump when he starts sucking on my clit and god the things he's doing with his mouth are enough to send me over the edge in under a minute.

FUCK MMMM

feel good ma

yes fuck uhhh so good

mmmm he hums as he sucks on my clit sending me into a shaking orgasm.

mmmm FUCK MATT im cumming

mmmm good girl look at you shaking from just my mouth

I thought he was done but he keeps licking and sucking then he adds two fingers into me causing my legs to shake uncontrollably.

F-FUCKK MATT ITS T-TOO M-MUCH I CANT

awww yes you can ma give me one more I know you can

mmmmm fuck... fuck matt im so close

mmm he groans as he licks my clit and moves his fingers in and out at a fast pace his other hand moves under my thigh lifting it over his shoulder .

My breathing is rapid as I feel my second orgasm moving in at a rapid rate. But this time I know damn well im gonna squirt so I chose to warn him.

M-MATT fuck im g-gonna squirt

mmmm good girl soak my face baby give it to me

f-fuck fuck oh my god

such a good girl you gonna quirt all over me

FUCK UHHH-MA-MATT IM GONNA .... FUCKKKKK

I scream as I quirt all over him

gooooood girl that's it ma

fuck matt I say as I come down from my high

awww look at your legs shaking

shut up

all 4s now

matt your so big I don't know if I can h- before I finish my sentence he grabs me by the neck

I wasn't fucking asking now do as your told

yes sir I say kind of bratty

fix your tone when you speak to me slut he says as he lightly slaps me across the face and fuck was it the hottest thing ever.

I move to all 4s and spread my legs for him.

Good girl he says as he lines himself up with my leaking entrance.

Go slow please matt I say knowing this is gonna hurt.

I will ma don't worry he says as he slowly starts sliding his tip in

mmm ... fuck I say as I felt him stretching me wide causing a burning sensation.

You okay ma he asks sweetly .

mmhm just h-hurts a little

I know you can take it ma its okay I got you

he bottoms out hitting so deep in me . It hurts so good

mm fuck your so tight ma

mmm- fu-fuck matt your stretching me s-so much

I know ma I know tell me when to move

I gave myself a little time to adjust

o-okay you can m-move

he starts thrusting slow and deep the pain starts to slowly go away and starts feeling like heaven.

fuck faster matt

try asking again he says slapping my ass hard causing me to gasp

p-please sir please fuck me faster

such a good girl for me

he starts pounding into me at a faster pace sending shock waves through my whole body .

FUCK MATT MMM S-SO DEEP

mmm yeah you like that slut

fuck ...Y-YES FUCK

such a good slut taking me so well

the degrading name makes me clench around him

aww you like when I call you a slut huh

y-yes I-l-love it

he brings his hand to hair clenching it hard in his fist as his other hand goes onto my back making me arch even more for him causing him to hit so deep it makes my legs uncontrollably shake.

F-FUCK MATT YOUR TO DEEP I-CA-CANT T-TAKE IT

yes you can slut he growls out through gritted teeth

N-NO I CANT I say harshly bringing my hand back pushing on his stomach trying to push him away .

he grabs my arm harshly holding it behind my back as his hand in my hair moves to my throat gripping it hard.

your gonna fucking take it like a good little girl

N-no

no? he says harshly as his hips fault to a stop and he pulls me up to meet his chest as he grips my neck harder.

since you wanna sit like a fucking brat he says as he shoves me face down on the rough ground holding both of my hands behind my back

he lowers himself so his breathe Is hitting my ear causing me to shiver

ill fucking treat you like one he says as he starts thrusting rough, fast, deep and harder than ive ever been fucked in my life.

M-MATTT FUCK FUCK

aww what's wrong am I being to rough

Y-YES MATT PLEASE FUCK P-

please what

PLEASE I-CA-CANT T-TAKE IT I-MMM FUCK

you know your mouth is saying one thing but your pussy is saying something completely different

MMM FU-FUCK SHIT Y-YOUR SO DEEP

you like it when I fuck you like a bratty slut and you can't say no I feel you clenching my fucking cock

mmmm F-FUCK yes

yes what slut he takes both my hands in one hand and brings his down harshly on my ass

ye-yes sir fuck sir I lo-love it

atta girl you gonna cum for me

ye-yes sir mmm fuck he starts pounding me harder than I ever thought was possible as he slaps my ass harshly

cum on my cock me give it to ma

F-FUCK M-MATT MMMMM I scream as I cum all over his cock.

He keeps pounding into me harshly I started to come down. from my high as my legs were shaking and starting to give out under my weight.

m-MATT I ca-cant keep myself up m-much longer

he pulls out slapping my ass

flip over for me ma

I flip over laying on my back holding onto my legs trying to stop them from shaking but it doesn't help at all.

Keep eye contact for ill stop got it

y-yes sir

good girl he says as he lines himself back up to my entrance

he slides back in and starts pounding into me deep and slow he grabs my legs bringing them up onto his shoulders hitting me so deeply I can feel him in my stomach.

F-FUCK MATT YOUR S-SO BIG

he brings one hand down onto my stomach as he feels himself inside me as his other one moves to my neck shocking me not too hard but the perfect amount of pressure to drive me crazy.

fuck your so fucking wet for me mama

mmmm fu-fuck matt i th-think I gonna squirt

the pressure he is applying on my lower stomach has me about to turn into a damn fountain.

squirt all over me baby soak me

F-FUCK MATT I- I can't even finish what I was saying as I felt myself let go all over him.

fuuuuuck your so fucking hot

mmm fu-fuck matt

he starts pounding into me again my legs won't stop shaking around his neck and I start to feel overstimulated.

m-matt i ca-cant take it a-anymore pl-please

yes you can baby I know you can

I try to push him out of me by pushing on his toned abdomen with only causes him to slap me across the face making me whine out .

keep you hands down understand

y-yes sir I-im s-sorry

good girl im getting close ma I promise just hold on for a little longer

f-fuck okay

he sets my legs so they are around his waist as he brings his body flush against mine as he fuck me deep and rough

F-FUCK MATT MMMM

I start clawing at his back from over stimulation .

fu-fuck ma I can feel you clenching again

I claw his back deeper as I feel pressure building in my stomach and then suddenly snap

fuck ma your squirting again jesus

I didn't even know I was squirting all I felt was extra pleasure run through me

F-fuck matt mmm god

I squirt over and over I can't seem to stop (nah cause this happened to me in real life it was Lowkey disturbing not gonna lie a bitch was in pain the next day)

Jesus y/n ive never seen some one squirt so much so close together

I c-cant s-stop

I know baby its okay

I claw down his back harder and I bury my face into his shoulder as I bite down as I squirt again my legs are shaking so much they start cramping but I literally can not stop squirting and its driving me crazy .

F-fuck ma your soaking me j-jesus christ

I-im sorry

don't be sorry this is the hottest thing ever

mmmmmm FUCK I scream as I quirt even harder from his hips angling even more hitting deeper

fuck ma im gonna cum

fu-fuck matt fill me up p-please fuck

yeah you wanna be a good little cum slut

Y-YES FUCK MATT PLEASE I scream I squirt yet again as it starting to make my stomach hurt

his hips start to sputter and his thrusts become sloppy.

f-fuck im cuming he says as I feel his warm cum fill me up I moan out as I squirt one last time before his thrusts stop and he pulls out .I feel our mixed liquids running out of my pussy.

fuck that was ... the best sex.. ive ever h-had I say as I laugh a little curling my legs into my chest as my entire body is shaking and tears are streaming down my face.

F-fuck after that I never wanna fuck anyone else

I laugh as I shake uncontrollably I th-think you broke me

aww baby im sorry was a actually to rough

n-no I fucking loved it I just don't think ill be able to stand let alone walk out of here I laughed casein g him to chuckle and shake his head.

he went and grabbed his clothes putting them on and then coming back over to me helping me up my knees immediately buckle so he has to hold me up against the wall so I don't fall as he helps me putt my outfit back on. I felt my back burning really bad as he slid my dress over my head.

OW FUCK I cried out as the stinging got worse

wh-what what's wrong

my-b-back is burning like another fucker

he spins me around JESUS im so sorry it must have been from your backing rubbing on the ground you have big strawberries all over your back

eh honestly I deserve it I definitely did a mean number on your back

uuuh yeah you think he turns around lifting his shirt showing me his back I gasp.

OH JESUS MATT why didn't you stop me those are deep and bleeding

well I uh- I have a pain kink so I thoroughly enjoyed it

o-oh well then I guess your welcome

yes thank you very very much he says as he turns around and gives me a sweet and soft kiss .

come on your coming home with me

I try to walk but my legs fail me and he laughs at me

stop laughing bitch you did this to me

watch that pretty little mouth or your getting round two when we get home

as much as I enjoyed this I could not handle anymore tonight so I brought my hand up to my mouth acting like Im zipping them and threw away the key

come on drama queen he says as he picks me up and I lock my arms around his neck and legs around his waist

I keep my head sizzled into his chest as he blows out the torches on the walls and grabs the last lit one and makes his way back up the stairs he blows out the torch as we walk out of the crypt.

as we approach the part of the grave yard the party was going on in I hear the faint music again I start to feel embarrassed about the state i'm in right now . He walks over to his friends .

Damn bro you have been gone for three fucking hours

God is she even alive anymore

I let out a small giggle at his friends statement.

Yeah yeah funny bro she's fine but were heading home so ill catch you guys later

okay bye bro

byeeee I say as I smile and wave at them as matt walks away from them.

they all just laugh and shake their heads

your friends seem fun

yeah their pretty cool

oh my god y/n

we both look over at my best friend

You been gone for three fucking hours I thought you were dead

no no im fine I promise

she smirks at me as her eyes run over my face and body that is still clinging to matt.

wow you guys had a lot of fun

yep sure did im matt by the way

nice to meet you matt well y/n I guess your going home with him huh

yep sure am I love you and we'll talk tomorrow okay

okay I love you

I love you too

matt walks us all the way to his car he opens the door and sets me down as he shuts the door and gets into the drivers side.

he starts up the car and drives to him house . he parks the car then hops out to help me out and we slowly walk to the door as he unlocks it and we enter.

wanna showers pretty girl

yes please

alright come on its upstairs

we get to the bathroom and he sets me down on the toilet .

go pee im gonna grab a change of clothes for us real quick

okay I finish up my business ad he come back in and helps me get my clothes off and I take my wig off and undo the braid bun I did under the wig.

wow I love your natural hair

aww thank you I said smiling

you wouldn't happen to have like makeup remover or face wash would you

um let me check my mom might have left some in the guest bathroom last time she was here

okay thank you

as he left the bathroom I smiled to myself and the looked over the work he did on my neck and chest then I looked down at my knees seeing that they are scraped and bruising.

I turned to look at my back and Jesus it was so scraped that there was blood and it was also bruising.

here you go my mom left these makeup wipes

thank you I said as I grabbed them and took my makeup off

you know I never thought about how bad a crypt floor would damage my body when I had my fantasy

yeahhh we probably should have thought about that

mm yeah. but hey it was worth it

sure was . You know I didn't even wanna go to that party but im glad I did

oh yeah? and why is that?

I would have never met the most beautiful girl ive ever seen and fucked her into oblivion

mmmm yeah I guess your right and thank you for the compliment

of course ma now lets shower

we hopped into the shower and we washed each others bodys both hissing when the soap and water hit our tainted backs .

we got out and dried off as we put on our change of clothes .

sorry I didn't you know have a change of underwear for you but I there yours in the wash so they are clean for you tomorrow

oh its okay thank you

of course wanna go to bed im fucking exhausted

yes please im spent

he led me to his room and we crawled under the covers as he turned on his fan .

we cuddled into each other as we started to drift off to sleep in each others arms.

hey y/n

yeah matt

I know we just met tonight and stuff but uh would you maybe wanna go out on a real date sometime

yes id love that matt I looked at him smiling as he smiled at me placing a sweet kiss on my forehead .

we fell asleep and that was that.

Gooooooooood NIIIIIIIGHT xoxo

#smut #fanfiction #matt sturniolo #mattdom

78 notes · View notes