#police station dirt

[aspelladay]

Law Please Come Soon Spell

[Sometimes the problem is not the presence of authority but its absence. Perhaps someone close to you is engaged in activities that are dangerous and should be stopped. Perhaps it would be better for call concerned if someone’s activities were brought to the attention of the authorities. Although the obvious response is to call the police or inform the appropriate authorities, if only anonymously, magic spells acknowledge the complexities of human situations. Perhaps it’s not as simple or safe as just making a phone call. This following spell purports to draw legal attention toward your target without, providing your spell casting isn’t witnessed, drawing attention toward you.]

A handful of dirt from the actual area that the police need to investigate is required, whether this is the target of your spell’s residence or place of business or other.

In addition, you’ll need a handful of graveyard dirt and a handful of dirt from each of the following places: a crossroads, a prison, a courthouse, and four different police stations. If the Graveyard Dust does not actually contain dirt, obtain a handful of dirt from a cemetery as well.

Blend all the dirt together in a bowl.

Use a black seven-day candle or burn each of seven individual black candles daily.

Carve and dress the candle with a Commanding Oil and San Cipriano Oil.

Stand the candle within the bowl of dirt and burn it.

On the eighth day, when the candle(s) have completely burnt down, sprinkle the remnants of the wax, together with the dirt, onto the targeted individual’s property.

(from The Element Encyclopedia of 5,000 Spells by Judika Illes)

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

I love how you characterize Aaron Hotchner! Would you please write something for him along with the quote ‘keep your eyes open, sweetheart’? Completely up to you, but was definitely thinking about some heavy angst 🙃🙃

"look at me" - hotch x gn!bau!reader - 985 words

cw: injuries and depictions of violence, general angst, anxiety, hotch literally just being a hero as per freakin usual

why hello my love! thank you sm for this request <3

i don't write a lot of angst, it's certainly something i need practice with! but i really enjoyed writing this and i smooch ur lil forehead

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

People always say that in a near-death experience, your whole life flashes before your eyes. 

Not yours. 

You didn’t see your whole life, no. You saw bits and pieces - learning to ride a bike, walking at your high school graduation, pinning your FBI badge to your blazer. And then you just saw Aaron. 

The first time you met, shaking hands as a brazen formality in the middle of a case, feeling his deep, brown eyes scrutinize your every move, watching him watch you. He was testing you back then, seeing if you’d be a good fit for the team.

The first real conversation you shared with him - The Beatles, which song was his favorite? Laughing at him when he said Yellow Submarine. 

When he held your hand for the first and only time on a particularly rough case, about four months ago, and promised you that things would get better. 

When you comforted him for the first time, about three months ago, after Haley left him. You promised him that everything happens for a reason. 

Five minutes ago, when you told him you felt certain the unsubs were going to strike again. You felt it in the pits of your stomach, you told Aaron. And he just nodded and said he trusted your intuition. Then he held the door open for you, and led you out of the police station, into the dead-quiet night of the street.  

He clicked the key fob in his hand, and the SUV burst into red-hot flames and sent you both flying. You were immediately knocked unconscious, your body thrust out into the street flippantly, like someone had simply thrown a baseball. 

You come to on the concrete, your head pounding. All sound is muffled, but you see Aaron on his knees, hovering over you. His face is covered in dirt and soot and blood, and he keeps cupping his hand over his ear. 

“ - hear me?” Sound is restored in the middle of Aaron’s question. It’s abrupt, like someone changing the channel on the TV, but you can hear again. You feel dizzy and disoriented as you prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“Stay down,” Aaron instructs, guiding you gently to lay flat on your back once again. Your entire body is throbbing. 

“Aaron,” you feel a panicked, whispered sob escape you. He grabs your hand and you feel him squeeze it. Your eyes roll into the back of your head. You feel dizzy, like you might pass out again and Aaron’s grip tightens around your hand. “It hurts.” 

“Keep your eyes open for me, sweetheart. Please?” The endearment rolls off of Aaron’s tongue like he’s said it a million times before. He hasn’t. Your relationship with him has been professional-ish up until this point. You’re not sure how he feels about you, exactly, but at this moment, it doesn’t matter. 

 He doesn’t even acknowledge that he said it. “What hurts?” Aaron’s speaking loudly, like someone who has headphones in. His hand is still pressed against his ear. 

“All of it,” you murmur. “Everything.” 

You feel tears in your eyes. Your stomach is in knots and you feel like someone is sitting on your chest. You blink a few times, feeling the tears drip down your face and onto your lips, salty and full of dread. 

Aaron’s checking you over, you realize, lifting your head gently and quickly to make sure you’re not bleeding. He’s talking to you, telling you what he’s doing so you don’t panic even more. He uses feather-light touches to lift your arm, and pain shocks you, coursing through your wrist. “Shh, hey, I’m sorry,” he says, laying your arm by your side. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Your wrist is broken.” 

You blink a few tears away. 

“I’m going to pick you up, Y/N,” he tells you. He never calls you by your first name, but you’re in so much pain that you can’t even be jarred by it. “Can you move your other arm?” 

It feels laden, but you can. You nod and whimper in confirmation. 

“Can you hook it around my neck?” He asks as he slides his hands under you. The crooks of your knees and your back are cradled by Aaron’s arms and you wrap your arm around his neck. Once he determines you’re stable in his arms, he lifts you up. You hear sirens blaring as they get closer, and you see Aaron grimace. You feel his body tense up, his fingers curl around the fabric of your shirt. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask him in an unfiltered mumble, sniffling as he carries you towards the nearest ambulance. 

“It’s just my ear. I’m fine, Y/N. I’ll be fine,” he promises, but you feel how labored his gait is. It’s taking everything in him to carry you to the ambulance. You want to tell him to stop, to remind him that the paramedics can bring the gurney to you. But you’re so tired, so dizzy. You think maybe if you just rest your eyes a little bit, you might feel better. Your head tilts to rest in the crook of Aaron’s neck. Your eyes flutter shut. 

“Y/N, you might have a concussion. You have to stay awake, okay?” Aaron’s voice draws you back. Your eyes are shaky when they open, and you see him looking at you with weighted concern as he sets you onto the gurney. 

The paramedics load you shakily up into the ambulance, and you reach your uninjured arm out. “You’re going to the hospital with me, right?” You ask. 

Aaron nods, climbing in after the paramedics and sitting beside you. His eyes are piercing and full of consternation as he takes your uninjured hand in both of his. He runs his fingertips over your knuckles, nodding assuredly, though you are certain he is feeling exactly the opposite.  “Yeah. Of course. I’m not going to leave you.”

[callsign-dexter]

Unraveling Desires

Request: Ohhhh those are great! ❤️

39. "Another kiss like that and I won't be held responsible for my actions." with Tim Bradford pleeeease 😊

Prompt: Another kiss like that and I won't be held responsible for my actions.

Pairings: Tim Bradford x Police K-9 Officer!Wife!Reader

Warnings:

Kiss Prompts

Masterlist

You and Tim had known each other for a while now and awhile means that you both are married and have been for 5 years. You two truly loved each other and wouldn’t trade each other for other people. You two were happy with each other and you wouldn’t change that for anything. The both of you sometimes had the same shift and while he was with a trainee you were out on your own and loving it you were also a K-9 handler, you absolutely adored Lucy Chen and she was a good friend you also have her dirt on Tim that she could use against him. When he found out you were doing this you usually got it when he saw you next but you weren’t complaining.

It just happened that you both had the same shift this time and you loved it because you could tease your husband and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. You had just woken up to the sound of your alarm going off. You laid there in a bed for a few minutes watching your husband sleep and then smirked when a brilliant idea came to your mind. You leaned over and snuggled into him and then you slowly started to kiss him. First you started at the shell of his ear and then slowly made your way down his neck. He started to stir but had yet to wake up. You smirked and continued your attack and you slowly started to kiss his shirtless chest and trailing your hand up and down his stomach getting close to where you knew he needed you the most but you didn’t. You started to kiss down his sternum and then to his stomach and right before you got to his underwear started you looked up and noticed him looking at you and you smiled “Good morning.” You said and then got up and strutted to the bathroom and you could just see the look on his face.

“Hey, get over here and finish what you started.” He said sitting up on his elbows and you turned around with your toothbrush in your hand.

“What if I don’t?” You asked after you spit out the toothpaste and rinsed out your mouth. Then crawled into bed and startled him. He smirked and then flipped you over where he was now straddling you and he started kissing you.

“You’ll find out.” He said and then kissed you and trailed down until he got to your pajama pants and then stopped and then looked up and smirked then got off and started to get ready for the day.

“Fucking tease.” You said and he smirked.

“You started it, wife.” He said 

“Oh, it’s on, husband.” You said and the both of you got ready. Where he changes at the station you don’t since you have your K-9 partner, Rocky. Once changed you walked out of the bedroom to where Rocky was kenneled and let him out. You let him out and then fed him. When you got done Tim had walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, Rocky greeted him and then you were handing him his coffee cup.

“Wanna try and meet up for lunch?” You asked him and he nodded.

“You know I do; everyone loves seeing you and Rocky.” He said and at the sound of his name the Mahogany colored Belgian Malinois perked up and barked at his name and you and Tim laughed. You walked over to where you kept his stuff and got his collar that said ‘POLICE K-9 DO NOT TOUCH’ you called him over and spoke the command to sit in German and he did so and you clipped the collar on. You then slipped his bullet proof vest on. Tim looked at you in awe. He loved it when you spoke a different language. “You two have a good day. Rocky, you protect our girl.” He said and he barked as if saying ‘You got it!’ and then walked over and kissed you and you kissed back and off you went with your loyal partner out the door and into the K-9 police cruiser. Normally all police cars had to stay at the station but K-9 handlers were allowed to take theirs home because they have to transport their animal.

You drove to the station to check in and start your day. The drive was pretty quick and you made it there in no time just about the time your husband pulled in at the same time and you rolled your eyes. You parked your cruiser in the designated parking spot and got out letting Rocky out at the same time. Tim walked over and waited for you. “Were you tailing us?” You asked with a hint of playfulness in your voice.

“Now why would I do that?” He asked and then pecked you on the lips and you pushed him away.

“We’re at work.” You said but smirked because you and he knew that you didn’t care. 

“Your point is?” He asked and you shook your head and the both of you started your walk in. You had different bosses since you were in different departments but it was on the same floor. You once again parted ways while he got dressed and you went to check in with your boss. Once you were done you walked by the briefing room and smirked seeing your husband sitting there and when he caught sight of Rocky, he looked at you and smiled and then you were on your way. Wade Grey caught this but didn’t say anything. Both you and Tim were well respected in both of your departments and they knew not to mess with you. 

By the time they were out on the road you had been out for at least 30 minutes and when you heard them check in you smirked “Time to have some fun.” You said and got on the radio. “About time you guys got to work.” You said and waited for a response and Tim was the first.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Tim asked 

“I am. Been working for about 30 minutes now.” You said with a smirk and you could just see him roll his eyes. It was silent for about 10 minutes then Lucy came over the radio. The over the radio banter went back and forth. You all answered some calls and some you ended up together on. Nolan, Jackson, Angela, and Talia loved you and when they saw you and Rocky in action they were always in awe. After the call Tim met you at your cruiser leaning up on it. 

“You’re so sexy when you’re in action.” He said and you rolled your eyes but smiled as you put Rocky into his built-in kennel and you left the door open.

“So are you.” You replied and he smirked just then another call came in for a K-9 unit and you responded and then turned to your husband “Duty calls.” You said and closed Rocky’s door and hopped into the driver's side and headed off to the call. The call involved some tracking but, in the end, you got the suspect. 

Lunch time rolled around and you met Tim and the others at the usual place and went and sat with them while taking Rocky with you so he could stretch his legs. “Y/N how do you keep this man in line?” Angela asked with a smirk and Tim rolled his eyes and you laughed.

“It's easy. I just withhold sex. Works like a charm every time.” You said and they laughed with you while he rolled his eyes but he knew it was true.

“Do you like working in the K-9 department?” Nolan asked and you smiled and nodded.

“I love it. Rocky here is my companion and he listens and doesn’t talk back.” You said and they laughed.

“Hey, I listen.” Tim said 

“Yes, but you also talk back sometimes.” You said and he rolled his eyes “Love you.” You spoke

“I love you too.” He replied

“How did you meet?” Lucy asked 

“I actually met Tim on a call and he was so impressed by Rocky and I that he asked me out and the rest is history.” You said and before they could respond your radio went off requesting K-9 back-up and you responded and off you and Rocky went. 

You didn’t see any of them again for the rest of the day and night. The next time you saw Tim was when he had gotten home and you were already home. You had already changed and had dinner going when he walked through the door. “There’s my sexy wife.” He said and you smiled and walked over and wrapped his arms around your hips.

“And there is my handsome husband.” You said turning your head to kiss him. “How was your day?” You asked him when you released each other from the kiss.

“Long. Had a lot more calls this time.” He said “Yours?” He asked going to fridge and opening it to grab two beers and petting Rocky’s head.

“It was good. We had a lot of calls too and some traffic stops.” You said and he nodded and took the beer when he offered it.

“Nobody got hurt?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Nope, just the suspects that decided to hide or run.” You said chuckling and so did he. You turned off the stove “Supper is ready.” You said and he grabbed two plates and handed you one. You both got your plates and went and sat down and began to eat.

Supper was eaten in a comfortable setting with some talking about anything and everything. It was done you went over and startled his lap and kissed him with passion and fire and he responded. When you pulled away his pupils were blown and you had no doubt yours was too. “Another kiss like that and I won't be held responsible for my actions.” He said and a smirk grew on your face and you kissed him again with the same ferocity as the first kiss and he knew what you wanted. He got up quickly knocking the chair over and then started for the bedroom planning on finishing what you both started that morning. You were in for a long night and you were so ready for it and so was he.

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

@angenu01-blog

@talesofreading

[siienthiil]

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓪.

𝓭𝓮𝓯𝓽𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓼.

contents.. yandere¿ dazai osamu x reader.

Choking.

You were violently choking on the hard wood floor, your body tilted to its side and your eyesight blurred by a mixture of dirt and blood that had infiltrated your vision. You had long ago coughed up all the rich liquid that was blocking your windpipe, which was a scare flavor of saliva and blood.

The air was vile, the smell so overwhelming that you could practically taste it on your tongue. You gagged, the unpleasant aroma of filth that has been accumulated overtime settling on your tastebuds and the smell adding to your migrane. Your head was pounding and you swore it was split open by the distracting pain that pulsated through your skull and to the back of your neck. Your leg too was also fractured, but to an extent, and bruises covered your body in various places.

But, nothing. Absolutely nothing would ever compare to the absolute fury Dazai unleashed on you after he found out about your escape attempt.

.

.

It feels like you're flying

Well, maybe you are by the way your body feels totally weightless as you desperately create distance from the prison you were once held in. Tears poured from your eyes like rivulets, a strange sense of hope swelling inside your chest. A feeling that you forgot had even existed and you sure as hell didn't want that feeling to go away.

You needed to get to where people were, you needed to blend into the crowd. You needed to get to the police.

The streets were no longer silent; distant laughter, people talking and the sound of motors running as vehicles drove up and down the road. Sounds you thought you'd never miss, but you did. Months of confinment and everything around you feels new. The air was cold and crisp and it seemed like yesterday that it was just the summer, yet it felt so long.

It doesn't take you long to stumble across a police station, the big and bold lettering on the sign catching your attention from a mile away. You waste no time to advance towards the building, bare feet crushing the cold snow beneath them with every accelerating step.

Until you're not.

Slender fingers wrap around your arm and suddenly your heart is in your stomach. The grip on your arm is animalistic and full of control, fingernails digging crescents into your flesh and you find yourself unable to move another step.

"where are you going?"

.

.

You're pulled back into consciousness by the sound of heavy footsteps reverberating against the walls and moving towards the door. Your heartrate immediately skyrockets, your anxiety alleviating your impending hyperventilation and cold sweat bathing over you. Your eyes shoot wide open and you fixate on the light shining through the small crevice beneath the door.

Quietly, you breath in through your nose and out through your mouth.

In through your nose,

out through your mouth.

The breathing exercise doesn't do anything to help soothe you and infact, you feel that your heart is beating so loudly that you think that he might've heard it to.

The footsteps come to a stop infront of the door and the air soon fell omnious and tense, hinges clicking and the door slowly opening with a loud creak. Dazai peered into the room, surveying it and noting every single detail, likely to see if you made another attempt to escape; his gaze lingering on the boarded up window. He looks away from the window and his honey brown eyes fall onto you.

Your blood runs cold and you'd hope that you would just go into cardiac arrest.

There was a slight tug at the corner of his mouth before his lips curl into a full blown smile, his eyes becoming downturned and his face molding into that disgustingly bright expression. He steps into the room, closing the door behind him and flicking on the light as he takes a step in. Why was he here? Why now? Is he planning to simply just watch you this time? Rarely, he would break a few of your limbs, but you didn't trust him. Not this time around. It rarely ever happens, but there's no guarantee where his head space is in, in that moment. He could suddenly burst and let all his anger out on you again.

He walks towards you and you narrow your eyes at him, an involuntary whimper bubbling within your throat. He kneels down infront of you and reaches his hand out to touch you, fingertips barely grazing your skin before you flinched away. The second you flinched, his heart twisted with hurt and rejection. He frowns and his hand falls to his side.

"You're still upset with me?" He says and he's not asking, he's simply making the observation. He finds it amusing how you think you could stay mad at him when he threw you into this room and only fractured your leg for precautionary measures. It'll heal, but it was much better than losing a limb, no?

You don't answer him and he sighs.

"I can't have you running off on me, ___. You understand why I did what I did, right? To...?" He's expecting you answer back, his gaze lingering on you and when you don't answer him, you can hear the finaltility in his voice. "To.. keep you safe. Now, say it back to me."

"Go fuck yourself."

Surprised, he leans back just a bit and raises a brow, his face slowly lighting up with amusement as his sinister laughter fills the room. He tilts his head at you, a toothy grin remaining etched onto his face as he looks down at you with mock curiosity.

"Where did you get the balls to speak like that? You're not exactly in the right position to be insulting me." He feigned arrogance, another huff of laughter escaping from his lips, "You are way too stubborn for your own good, gorgeous. You're gonna get yourself hurt if you keep this up."

Your eyes bore into him like daggers and you don't give him the satisfaction of responding yet again. Hatred pumped through your veins, fueling your rage and you wanted nothing more than to let out all your emotions on him. All the confusion, the hate.

The lack of communication from you made him frown once again, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"What's wrong? You were talking just fine a few moments ago. Cat got your tongue?" He tilts his head again, "You know how this'll turn out for you."

"Why me?" You croak out, managing to bring it upon yourself to finally say something that wasn't just profanities. He raises a brow.

"Why not?" He said, "You gave me a reason to."

"And what was that reason? I was there for you and you turned around and fucking kidnapped me!" Your voice is strained and it hurts to even talk, your voice coming out scratchy. Most likely due to the amount of coughing and screaming you did during the past couple days.

"If you're so insistent." Dazai chuckled, "You were too busy meddling in affairs that shouldn't have concerned you and look where being nosy got you. You were naive to think nothing would happen to you when digging around for information on the port mafia. I did it to keep you safe."

"To keep me safe? From what? The port mafia? Whatever they had planned in store for me would've been much better than the shit you've put me through." You spat angrily, slowly pushing yourself from off the ground and carefully scooting yourself back into the wall. Hissing in pain when you moved your injured leg to accommodate the position you were in.

"You wouldn't have liked what they'd do to you." He states matter-of-factly.

"You're a traitor and a fucking cunt. I trusted you."

"Is that all you know how to say? Profanities?"

"You were my boyfriend! You wouldn't have done this to me if you fucking loved me-" You should've known better than to think that he'd let you finish that sentence. Abruptly, his hand came up to have a tight grip on your jaw, forcefully pulling your face towards him and forcing you to look at him, a dangerous shadow casting over his features.

"I am your boyfriend and I do love you. You do not know the shit I would do for you and you'd certainly hate me more so if you had the slightest of clue of what I've done for you." His tone of voice sends chills down your spine and you find yourself not being able to hold eye contact with him for much longer. You close your eyes and you feel tears starting to form, prompting you to squeeze your eyelids shut. He doesn't take kindly to the action, his grip on your jaw tightening and with a slight shake of your head, you finally open your eyes to meet his gaze once more.

"Does it hurt?" He suddenly asks, causing you look at him with confusion.

"W-what?"

"This." He lets go of your face and stands up, towering over you and you carefully watch him as he takes a single step towards you. Your mouth runs dry and you want nothing but to disappear into the wall and to sink into the floor as his intimidating silhouette stared down at you. You don't even see him raise his boot before his foot came to press down onto your fractured leg, sending a rush of blinding hot pain throughout your entire being. Your mouth fell open, but no screams came out. All you could manage was a painful yell before your vocal cords decided to cease on you.

"Fuck!" You screamed out, tears finally pouring out of your eyes, "P-please, wait!" You gasp.

"What was that?" Dazai asked, putting more pressure down onto your leg. You wheeze and under the blurriness, you swear you can see him looking down at you with a great amount of pride and arrogance, his eyes sparkling with intense excitement. Though, he himself would like to believe he didn't like hurting you, but how else would you learn?

"I'm sorry!"

"Say that again, I didn't hear you." What an asshole, am I right?

"P-please, Dazai..I'm sorry!" Finally, he steps off your leg and you didn't even realize that you were holding your breath until his weight was finally off it. Crying, you reach for your knee on the same leg that was fractured, rubbing it up and down to try and soothe the pain as you rocked back and forth, trying desperately to distract yourself from the agony. Fuck, you missed being at home, missed the life you had before Dazai became a lunatic. But, it made you question, was your boyfriend always like this?

"I did warn you that you'd get hurt if you kept the attitude up." It is Dazai's voice that brings you out of your thoughts, but the agonizing pain was still there and honestly, right now you could care less about him being right there. You just wanted the pain to stop. To beg him to kill you, but you knew if you did that, than he's more likely to lash out. 'Kill you? Why? So you can leave me?' While savagely beating the shit out of you. If you had the strength, you would've attempted to kill him, but despite all the shit he's done to you, you still had those vague feelings for him. Or were they really vague?

He sighed and leaned down on his heels, demanding your attention as his hand reached for yours on your knee. You pull your hand away and he doesn't move or flinch, instead, his hand comes to where you were previously trying to soothe the pain.

"All I ask is that you listen to me, ___. Otherwise you wouldn't be going through all this pain if you would just fucking-" Cutting himself off before he could say something offensive. Which was laughable on his part. He surely had no problem using violence against you as a show of power, but when it came to his words? Oh, he was sure to be 'careful' with what he said when it came to you.

"I really don't like hurting you." He said, gently rubbing your knee. It takes a lot of focus to muster up the words through your fucked up vocal cords, but when you do, you dare ask.

"Then why do you do it?"

"How else are you supposed to learn if you can't obey what I ask?"

Anger just swelled within your heart even more. That was his justification for hurting you? Because you wouldn't obey him? He was never this controlling when you two first started out, but I guess it's true that you never really realize that you're in a bad situation until it becomes too late.

"I love you, ___."

"..."

"I love you too, Dazai.."

It's been 4 years(?) since I've posted lmao. This is a rewrite of a previous 'x reader' I wrote awhile ago. I am open to taking requests and it doesn't have to explicitly be yandere, you're able to request anything.

[girls-alias]

Those Eyes - Dean Winchester P2

Title: Those Eyes - Dean Winchester Part 2

Words: 3,569

Relationship: Dean Winchester X Reader

TW: Strong language. Angst, sexual tension, masturbation talk, Dom-Sub.

Taglist: @qinnroki @deans-baby-momma @creative-writing92 @lokischickadee @take_it_on_the_run @daisy-the-quake @ilikw @selfdestructionandrhum @globetrotter28

Requested: @deans-spinster-witch @pycobutterpie @deans-queen @suckitands33

Part 1

I cleared my throat, trying to gain some self-control as I made my way to Sam at the Impala. I should have cleaned myself up again, God damn Dean. I have never in my life been so attracted to someone. No one else has even been able to control me with just their eyes before. I can't pinpoint what it is about him but then again I think it's everything about him that turns me on. He's hot as fuck and my God he knows exactly what to say and do to make me weak.

He's such a tease. "Hey," I jumped at the voice, startled by the sudden snap back to reality. I blinked my imagination away realising that I had walked back to the Impala on auto-pilot. I forced a smile on Sam as he looked at me confused. "You okay?" He asked suspiciously, his eyebrows knitted together as he rested his back against the Impala. Dean must have the keys.

"Yeah, just in a world of my own," I chuckled, joining him in resting against the car. He looked at me a little sceptically.

"You sure? You seem completely distracted. If you don't feel up to this one, you can take point on research or just chill in the motel," He added, his sympathy and soft tone showing he was worried about me. Knowing him, he probably once again thought I was on my period. He always seems sympathetic about my periods, always offering support or things I might need. He's always getting hot water bottles ready for me in case I'm in too much pain with cramps. Sometimes saying he's proud of me for getting through them and gives his condolences that I had to go through it. It's sweet and makes me feel loved, he once explained that Jess' cramps were crippling and so he was always helping her that time of month.

I chuckled as I smiled, "I'm not on my period, just a little distracted," I commented, smiling brightly as I knew that no matter how much I questioned what was happening between Dean and me, Sam was a constant in my life.

"Anything you want to talk about?" He asked, showing a little concern probably worried. I smiled softly as I shook my head.

"Nothing's on my mind, just tired I think," I shrugged, he seemed to accept that answer.

"I'm here if you need me," He added, a genuine smile on his lips. I chuckled as I smiled back.

"Thanks, Sammy," I added, my attention quickly going to movement as Dean walked out of the police station. My eyes seemed magnetised to him, I bit my lip as I admired him. Smirking as he approached us, I gulped the closer he got.

"You better not have scratched the paint," Dean joked as he approached us. Sam and I chuckled as I shook my head, both of us getting away from the car. Sam walked around the car, getting in the passenger seat as Dean continued towards me. I turned my back to him, ready to open my door but gasped as Dean's hand found my back and pushed me against the car. My eyes widened as I looked over the car, my chest against the glass window. He wiped my ass with a few swipes. I gulped, frozen in place. "Don't want both my babies dirty," He commented, his tone low and seductive. I gulped, trying to comprehend what was happening. He called me baby, he's wiping dirt off my ass and pinned me against the car. He slapped my ass harshly, a whimper leaving my lips as he chuckled. "You need to stop being so hot, the cop asked me for your number. Did you think he was hot?" He asked, I was completely dumbstruck by his question.

"No," I managed, my voice sounded small as his hand kept me against the car. I know if I moved he would let me, nothing about him or the way he acts threatens me. I know that if I showed I was uncomfortable and wanted him to stop he would.

"Good, I don't want competition." He stated simply. My eyebrows furrowed as the thought of Dean ever having competition was impossible. The only time someone would choose someone other than Dean clearly hasn't met him, they clearly hadn't felt his eyes on them and the way he controls me. "Now, get your fine ass in the car," He added, slapping my ass again before he opened his door and climbed inside. I took a deep breath to compose myself before climbing in the back.

"What was that about?" Sam asked, clearly confused as to why it took us a while to get in the car.

"Cop wanted her number, just checking if she wanted to go back in and give it to him," Dean explained, his tone showing indifference.

"Oh," Sam exclaimed, clearly surprised. I chuckled dryly.

"Wow, thanks Sam," I commented sarcastically. Sam chuckled as he shook his head but my attention was on Dean as he seemed to glare at Sam.

"No, I wasn't surprised that he asked for your number I was surprised Dean actually told you," Sam commented but Dean looked at him confused. Sam has been oblivious to everything between Dean and me. He always looks innocent to others so I don't think he knows anything has been happening for months.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked, his tone showing a little annoyance. The air in the car felt tense as we just sat waiting for Dean to start driving but Dean was waiting for answers. I gulped, waiting and not wanting to be present in the conversation.

"Well, I just mean-" Sam stumbled for answers. Dean's stare didn't quiver as he looked at Sam. I took a deep breath, his stare wasn't even at me and I was still affected. "People ask for her number all the time," Sam shrugged, my eyes rolled to the back of my head as I begged the world to eat me. Great!

"What do you mean all the time?" Dean asked but Sam chuckled.

"At least once a hunt, sometimes more. I thought you knew," Sam added, clearly a little confused. I considered holding my breath and waiting until the nightmare was over but I knew I couldn't hold my breath to death. I'd never mentioned any of this to Dean, it's not something to brag about and if anything I think it's weird. I wouldn't say that I'm hot but when I've talked with someone they're interested. It must be a mix of my looks and personality. I've never thought much of it, plus it isn't every hunt Sam's exaggerating.

"No, I didn't," Dean said plainly, his eyes turning to the mirror as he looked at me before starting the car. I gulped, instantly worrying how he would react in private.

There have been times when a guy has hit on me in a bar and Dean always got a little jealous but he also loves to tease me about it claiming that I'm way out of their leagues and they didn't stand a chance. I always thought it was hot, the jealousy and compliments. Then again, Dean breathes and I think it's hot.

The drive back to the motel was quiet, the radio playing in the background not particularly loud. My mind raced with all the possible situations that could happen with Dean. I wondered if he would be jealous or compliment me, I worried he would be annoyed. Although I didn't hide it from him on purpose, it seemed weird that it had never come up in conversation sooner. I hope he doesn't think I was keeping it a secret. I chewed on my bottom lip a little nervously.

"Y/n," I looked forward, coming back to reality as Sam chuckled softly. I smiled softly as I wondered why he had said my name. "You staying in the car?" He asked with a chuckle, I looked out the window and we were here. Dean climbed out of the car, I gathered myself jumping slightly when my door opened. I looked out seeing Dean had opened my door for me and was waiting. I bit my lip as I climbed out, thanking him as I stood up. His face was plain, I took a deep breath knowing he was most likely annoyed.

I stepped away from the car so he could close the door. Sam got out, heading to the motel room to unlock the door, I gulped following him with Dean close beside me. "I knew I wouldn't be alone in wanting you but seems you have a lot to choose from," He stated simply, his hand on my lower back as he walked with me. My breath hitched, and my heart rate quickened. I kept my eyes on Sam's back, not having the willpower to look at Dean and his eyes. God, those eyes. They're my weakness and strength all at once.

I was uneasy for a while, sitting in the motel room with the boys. A part of me wanted to make an excuse to go to my room, hopefully Dean would come but another part of me was too nervous to see what would happen. For months it has felt like a game of cat and mouse, the secret chase. Now that he may catch me, I'm worried that it won't be as fun, I could never stop being attracted to Dean but I worried that after today things would change and I am not a fan of change. I gulped, coming back into conversation with the boys as I felt Dean's eyes on me. I glanced over, he was smirking but looked back at Sam, their conversation about the case continuing.

After a little while, I was invested in the conversation. Putting in my theories and laughing along with the jokes. Dean's eyes often found me but he was holding back on looking at me like he wanted to rip my clothes off, this is the time of the day when I'm a little calmer, although he still affects me I'm still able to function in a room with him.

"Right," Sam announced, getting up from his chair and grabbing his jacket off the back of it. I looked at him confused, watching as he put on his coat. Where's he going? "I'm getting food," He explained, looking at Dean and me with a smile. My eyes widened slightly as I felt Dean's eyes on me. He smirked.

"I can do it," I tried but Sam chuckled, I probably sounded too eager.

"It's alright, I was able to take a shower this morning so you's might as well stay back and freshen up," He explained, doing my least favourite thing that he often does... he brings logic into the conversation. I sighed, wanting nothing more than to run out of the room so he didn't have a choice and so I wasn't alone with Dean.

After a little time, Sam left Dean and me alone. I gulped, forcing a smile but not looking at him. He chuckled, my eyes instinctively going to him. He licked his lips, his eyes yet again devouring me. He either needs to stop looking at me with those eyes or stop looking at me altogether.

"Hope there's enough hot water for the two of us," He started slowly. I gulped, the rest of his sentence predictable and yet my insides quivered to hear him say it. He rose from his seat at the table, eyes boring deep into mine. He smirked as he approached me on the couch, I gulped, eyes glued to him as he towered over me. He smirked devilishly as he put his hands on the back of the couch, leaning over me but lowering himself close to my face. His eyes looked deep into mine, and my breath hitched as his plump lips tempted me to kiss them. "Or maybe we should save water. Seems you have a choice of men to shower with," He finished. His voice was deep but whispered.

I gulped, mouth drying as I looked up at him. His lips slightly parted, half his lips curled into a smirk. "You know," He started, pausing for dramatic effect or waiting until my heartbeat wasn't as loud so I could hear him, it's unclear. "It seems wrong showering with you if we haven't even kissed," He added, biting his bottom lip as his eyes travelled to my lips. I held my breath, my chin raising slightly as my heart rate quickened, and my lips practically tingled with anticipation for him kissing me.

Time seemed to stand still as his lips were an inch from mine. His eyes searched my face, I gulped, lips parted as I waited, begging him to kiss me. I bit my bottom lip, his eyes catching the movement quickly, I should just grab him and kiss him! Why wait for him to do it? I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself to grab the back of his neck and close the distance between our lips.

"Guess we'll have to wait then," He spoke abruptly, standing up straight and moving away from me as if the whole thing hadn't happened. I sat, gawking at him. I gritted my teeth as I rolled my eyes. That's it! I'm done with him! I'm done with this game! If he doesn't want to kiss me then I don't want to see him. I stood, taking control of my own body. He turned around looking at me a little confused, obviously not expecting me to stand.

"Yeah, well have fun alone," I scoffed, shaking my head as I walked out. I headed a few doors down to my motel room, normally we're in the rooms next to each other but now I'm thankful that there wasn't the space for that. I need as much distance from Dean as I can get right now.

I slammed my door shut, clasping my hands together as I stopped myself from punching a hole in the door. He's not messing with me anymore, I am done being played with! I locked the door, focusing on taking a shower and pleasing myself while trying to think of anyone but Dean.

I cleaned myself up, exfoliating and getting my skin as clean as possible. A part of me wanted to wash Dean off of me, to leave no trace of him on my skin. I washed my hair, putting on a hair mask to get it as new and fresh as possible. I grew practically giddy as I leaned against the tiles, my instincts wincing away from the cold tiles. I rested back, fingers travelling down to my exposed nerves. I bit my lip, the warm water trickling down my body, the warmth washing over me as my ring and middle finger found my clit. I bit my lip harder, a whimper escaping my lips as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I sighed happily as I rubbed circles over my clit, the pleasure consuming me as I found my mind.

Thoughts of Dean clouded my mind, I fought to think of someone else, a distraction. Dean's eyes took up my mind so I opened my eyes, focusing on the sensations. I moaned softly before trailing my fingers down.

A scream escaped my lips as I jumped. A loud bang echoed through my motel room. SHIT! I hurried to turn my shower off. I peeked my head out of the bathroom seeing no one in my room, I grabbed a towel quickly wrapping it around my body as I hurried to the door. I grabbed my gun, cocking it as I looked through the peephole. I sighed as I put the gun aside. Dean fucking Winchester. Of course, it is. I rolled my eyes as I unlocked the door.

"What the fuck Dean?" I asked, annoyance in my tone as I opened the door. He looked annoyed before pushing the door wider, I stumbled back from the movement. He walked in, his back turned to me as I looked around annoyed and frustrated in more ways than one. I pushed the door shut, silently seething as I looked at Dean.

"I told you not to lock your door," His voice was angry but his eyes were hungry. Normally I'd be a puddle on the floor by now but I am done with him. I scoffed as I shook my head.

"And I told you to have fun alone," I retorted as I put my hand on my hip, looking at him angrily as he looked surprised by my response. I stayed strong as he stared me down.

"You're talking back to me now?" He asked, his eyebrows showing he wasn't asking, more stating. I maintained eye contact, not letting myself feel belittled by him.

"Yeah, there's no point in wasting both of our time and energy. I was actually showering so if you could just fuck off, that'd be great," I responded, gritting my teeth as I watched his anger grow. His eyes were darker than I've ever seen them. I made a point of not breaking eye contact first, it grew more challenging but I stayed strong. He remained still, his mind clearly clouded by his anger. I continued to fight myself to not break eye contact, it's principle now. He didn't seem to be struggling which only angered me more. "And for the love of God, will you stop looking at me with those eyes!" I shouted, my chest rising and falling rapidly. He clenched his jaw, eyebrows stiffening as he said nothing. "Don't look at me like you want to rip my clothes off, either do it or stop looking at me," I shouted, momentarily surprising myself with my own words.

Dean seemed surprised too, his anger evaporating from his expression. He looked away from me, scoffing slightly as he looked caught off guard. I clenched my jaw, offended by his reaction. I knew he was just messing with me this whole time but to scoff at that is ridiculous. I sucked my teeth angrily as I nodded, coming fully to terms with the fact this whole thing was a game to him. I tried with everything in me not to punch him in his handsome and annoying face. He shook his head as he turned towards the door.

That's what I thought. It was now so apparently obvious he was messing with me. Maybe now I'll finally get over him. I rolled my eyes as I turned around to watch him leave. My eyebrows furrowed slightly as he stopped at the door. He moved with precise movements, his hand reaching for the door handle. Seemed odd, but it all made sense why he stopped when rather than grabbing the handle he flicked the lock. My eyes widened as I gulped, we're locked in.

I stood frozen in place as he slowly turned around to look at me, his eyes still looking at me like he wanted to rip my clothes off. He moved slowly, approaching me without a word. I gulped, snapping myself back to reality.

"Dean," I cleared my throat, trying to gain some strength in my voice. "I wasn't serious," I tried, my voice sounding little as I backed away from him. His expression didn't change, he continued approaching me. "Stop messing with me," I jumped when my back hit the wall behind me. I gulped as he continued, my inside fluttering nervously. I felt little again as he towered over me. My breath hitched as he put a hand on the wall beside my head, his arm staying straight as he rested against it. His body was close to mine as he stared deep into my eyes. I bit my lip, watching as my insides churned in anticipation.

"Do I have your permission?" He asked slowly, his voice deep with desire. I gulped, taken back by his question. I was frozen in place, my lips parting as my mind considered all my options. I either put my foot down and get him to leave, he'll stop messing with me and I'll be in control of myself again... But... I nodded softly, too intimidated to speak. Dean smirked softly. His hands moved to my towel slowly. I gasped as he ripped it from my body quickly, forcefully. I gulped, fully exposed to him. He took a second to look me over, his eyes admiring every curve of my body as he licked his lips. My breath quickened as I could see his pupils dilate, the throb in his neck quickened before he bit his bottom lip. His eyes finally found mine, his breath quick as he almost growled. "From now on I'm going to look at you like I want to eat you. Let's see how long before you're begging to have this conversation again," He spoke slowly, eyes bouncing from my lips to my eyes, clearly wanting to kiss me. All ability to function left my body as I stared into his eyes. True to his word he looked at me like he wanted to devour me, like he was starving and I was the only food in sight.

God knows how I'm going to survive this.

Masterlist

Working On

Taglist

Hope you enjoyed! 💜

Part 3

[lksvi]

love him and let him love you

𝆹⭒ re6!leon kennedy x gn!reader

⏜ ‎ ◯𝆹⭒ synopsis — meeting you in raccoon city was a blessing. now, you've become the light within leon's darkest hours.

𝆹⭒◯ ⏜ content — fluff, probably some angst?, no uses of [name], i love leon kennedy, focuses on leon, a lot of leon reflecting

⏜ ‎ ◯𝆹⭒ word count — 2.2k

𝆹⭒◯ ⏜ note — the mischaracterization of leon kennedy makes me Sad so i wrote this. also requests r open js as a reminder!!!! enjoy this work!

𝆹⭒ masterlist

Leon is a graveyard of empty promises and bloodied corpses. Too many times has he promised what he cannot uphold, given what he shouldn’t– At his core, he is selfless. His heart beats the same direction of Ashley’s veins and his breath is remnant of Luis’ cigarette smoke. Those things kill, you know, he had said, not yet understanding what Spain had in store for him.

If there was any test of loyalty to his country, it was Spain.

He can’t tell you what he went through. The government holds him on a tight leash, never straying too far from the D.S.O. headquarters. Your home is a temporary peace; a light in the dark. Soft cushions and open windows, moonlight filtered through glass. Tranquility is not often felt by Leon, but whenever he is with you, at your home, with the gentle light of the moon brushing over pale skin, it buries itself into his bones. Carves into the marrow, makes a home of his ribcage.

Peace has never felt so free until he met you.

He thinks of that time often: Surrounded by the groans of the undead, brain matter sticking to the soles of his shoes. Yet, in the darkness of Raccoon City, laid a savior in the shape of you. Leon, a rookie cop who had yet to experience the weight of the world, thought you were an angel. He thought your purpose was to guide him out of the shadows, rescue him from the grime and filth that was Raccoon City.

Instead, he rescued you. Adrenaline pricked at his skin, shot through his veins. He remembers the sight of you: All-consuming fear swimming deep within angelic eyes, covering you head-to-toe. His gun did not feel heavy, nor did the bullet sound loud. All he could focus on was you, you, you.

He did not hear himself ask you, “Are you okay?” He simply saw you nod, and without a second glance, reached out to touch you. Fate intertwined your paths, brought you to him and him to you, for this moment. For Leon to gently grasp your wrist, flesh marred with dried crimson and flakes of dirt. For him to guide you to the police station, luminescent lights flickering overhead.

Underneath the fake lighting, he saw beauty personified. Breathless from running or from the sight of you, he did not know, but even if he wasn’t already panting, he would’ve started at the mere glance of you. He’s seen beautiful women, ones who turn heads and capture the lenses of cameras, but he thinks any lens would’ve shattered upon your grace.

Ever since Raccoon City, Leon has had a sworn duty: Protect the country and protect you. Helping has always been second nature for him, ever since he was six-years-old and standing up for the bullied kids housed in the orphanage, but for you, it’s his first. He helps you before he thinks of helping himself. Even with mundane tasks such as unscrewing the lids of jars and reaching something on the top shelf for you come natural to him.

He’s always helping you. So, he doesn’t know what to do with himself when you help him instead.

It’s long after midnight. Moonlight seeps through panes of glass, illuminating your living room. Tonight is cold and lonely. You reside by yourself, the glow of the television the only source of light within the home. A blanket drapes over you, shielding you from the cold, and a hot cup of tea sits on the coffee table. You’re about to go to bed when there’s a knock at your door.

You weren’t expecting anyone tonight. Confusion knits between your brows, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you stand up. Cautiously, you undo the locks and open the door, surprised to see Leon there. His sleeves are rolled up, dirt and grime stuck to the surface of his knuckles and inside of his nails. Turning up at your house with bruises and scratches are common for Leon, but he looks particularly rough tonight.

“Leon!” You gasp, moving to the side to let him in. A crooked smile plays on nude-colored lips as he steps inside, a shiver racking his frame. Dark blue fabric does little to shield him from the cold. The first few buttons are undone, revealing an array of yellow and purples peeking out from beneath it, along with a few cuts along his collarbone. “I thought you weren’t supposed to be back for another two weeks?”

A light chuckle escapes him. He’s grateful to be back in your home, the comfort already making a home within his beating heart. “Got back a little earlier,” Leon responds, raspy timbre not giving away his exhaustion. You don’t miss the hitch in his breath when he steps, or the way he tries to conceal his pain. “Thought I’d swing by, pay you a visit. How’re you holdin’ up?”

You don’t answer his question, too busy eyeing the unusual color against his skin, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re hurt,” You say instead. He offers a small sigh, a tug at the corner of his lips. “S’The job, sweetheart. What can you do?”

Gently, you lead him to your bathroom. It’s small, barely able to fit the two of you, but you make it work. You treat him as if he’s made of glass, even if you know he isn’t. Although you don’t know what happens in his line of work, you see the aftermath of it. The angry splotches against his skin, dark bruising and crimson-dried cuts. “Was this one of the rough ones?” You ask softly, even if you know the answer.

Leon can try to lie. He can attempt to conceal the truth behind vague words and shifty eyes, but he doesn’t. He sighs, watches you get out the first aid kit, and nods. “It’s always rough,” He mutters, eyes cast downwards. Talking about work isn’t something he enjoys. He doesn’t like to bring his work home, even if it infects certain aspects of his day-to-day life subconsciously.

He doesn’t trust anyone. He eyes down any suspicious looking person while getting you both coffee, always takes a sip of yours before he gives it to you, just in case. You don’t know he does these things– He’d rather deal with his paranoia himself. He doesn’t want to make you paranoid. Leon keeps you close to him in crowds, a hand splayed out on the small of your back or an arm wrapped around your waist or your hands intertwined. Touching you in some way is a must. If he can’t physically feel you, he thinks you’re going to disappear.

And Leon understands it’s silly. The things he does, the precautions he takes, he knows it’s coming from a place of anxiety. Humor me, won’t you? is what he asks every time, accompanied with a playful click of his tongue. Yet, he’d rather be safe than sorry. Risking your safety in any way is the greatest sin of all, one he refuses to even chance.

You try your best to cheer him up. His job is dangerous, that much you know, but you try to be a beacon of light for him. He has a mansion of his own, but you always welcome your quaint home up to him. A place of safety. At first, he didn’t take it. Showing up at your home was rare, if he came at all. Truthfully, he was worried about infecting your home. Plaguing the air with his anxiety, worries, and fears; somehow shifting the quiet environment to one of chaos.

His own house may be tainted, but he didn’t want to risk yours.

“Take off your shirt for me,” You instruct him. The first aid kit is laid out on the counter, gauze and bandages and band-aids littered about. He’ll never admit it, but he always looks forward to your band-aids. You always go for a colorful theme of some kind. Last time, your bandages were space themed, littered with stars and galaxies and asteroids. He secretly loves your themed band-aids.

This time, they’re Hello-Kitty themed. One of the characters, who you’ve told him is My Melody, takes up the space of the band-aid. His lips quirk in a smile. “Hello-Kitty this time, huh?” He says as he unbuttons his shirt, letting the fabric fall to the ground. Scars litter the expanse of his chest and abdomen, taut skin stretched across muscles. Chasing down Bio-Organic Weapons for a living gave him the physique he dreamed of having as a young boy (with several scars added, too).

He doesn’t say it out loud, but the themed band-aids remind him of Sherry. The young girl you two had taken care of for a short amount of time, who Leon sacrificed the rest of his adult life for. Getting recruited as a government agent was his part of keeping you, and her, safe. In exchange for his recruitment, you and Sherry got to live a normal life. Although Sherry was much more grown up, now. Seeing her in China had been whiplash for Leon.

She was a young woman now, different yet similar to the little girl you two had rescued long ago. He was different, too. No longer a bright-eyed rookie cop who blindly protected in the name of justice. He thinks back to Ada’s words– “You haven’t changed. You just think you have.”– and ponders on if he really has changed. In a way, he has. Gruesome sights and ungodly terrors have plagued him, shaped him into a man of battle. But in a way, he still helps. He still offers a hand to those in need.

Helping people has always been what he wants to do. It sits at the core of his being, flowing through his blood. He thinks of Ashley, Luis, and Sherry– All the people he could and couldn’t save. He will never be okay with not being able to save everyone. It keeps him up at night, infects his dreams until they morph into night terrors.

But he has saved people. Like you.

You nod your head, cleaning the cut on his collarbone and decorating it with a band-aid. He doesn’t tell you that he saw Sherry– Not yet, anyway. He doesn’t want to disturb the serene silence. It brings forth tranquility, a type he only feels when around you. It’s quiet as you continue patching him up, save for your delicate humming (a quirk about you that he loves– Silence often scares Leon, makes him await when the next B.O.W. will find him or when an enemy will come out of nowhere. Your humming doesn’t interrupt the silence, instead making it more peaceful) and the sound of gauze and bandages ripping.

Sleep tugs at his eyelids. It isn’t often he gets the pleasure of falling asleep, but he hopes he does tonight. Even so, he’ll get to lay with you, and that’s enough to relax him.

When you finish, you smile at him. “All done,” You tell him. You card a gentle hand through his hair, brush through the knots with nimble fingers. Luxuries such as brushing his hair aren’t often thought about during his missions. Typically, he comes back with his hair in knots. He hates the feeling of you brushing through them, but he enjoys sitting on the floor in front of the couch, your legs over his shoulders. Leon will turn his head as you’re combing through his hair simply to press a kiss to the inside of your thigh, leaving you to complain about having to start all over.

It’s the domesticity that kills him to be away from you. Thoughts of you persist even when he’s on a mission. Close calls have led to him thinking if leaving you, gentle kisses and exchanged laughter, would be the last time he saw you. A few times he’s picked himself up, even when an ache settles itself into his bones and he’s lost blood by the liters, because the thought of leaving you tears him apart. Never getting to see you making breakfast for him or your tongue sticking out when you focus or the blotches on your lips after anxiety-ridden days would break him.

He never wants to leave you. The image of you sobbing, tissues piled high and comforter up to your chin, makes his heart ache. He’s getting up before he realizes it, tugging you close. He hopes you can feel his heartbeat and understand that it beats for you. Leon’s never been good at expressing his emotions, but he hopes you know how much he loves you. How he would die and kill and tear apart flesh a thousand times over just to come home to your sweet smile.

“C’mon, sweet thing,” He murmurs into your hair. Rough fingertips gently scratch up your back, caressing the soft skin. He pulls away, just to see you look up at him. In this moment, he memorizes your eyes and your smile. He memorizes the feel of your skin, the smell of your perfume, the veins that map out a river beneath your flesh. He memorizes you and your love. “Let’s get to bed.”

[scholastic-dragon]

Hello o' talented one! I beseech thee to answer my request. (Feel like I'm summoning the Eternal Dragon 🐉)

If it pleases you and fulfills you're requirements: the baybois unspoken crush suddenly smooching them after thinking the bois died in a mission. Separately, of course.

Thank youuuu

This was the fanciest request I've ever gotten

^ this is how I felt when I started writing this lmao

(Seperate)Bay!Turtles x Gn!reader

Home Safe

Tears streamed down your face, your leg bouncing, making your body shake. I'd been hours. He was supposed to be back hours ago.

You sat in his room, on his bed, hands holding your head, willing the thoughts to stop.

He was going to come home.

He will.

He had to.

He promised.

It was a simple mission, one they'd done with the police force dozens of times. Find the tagged target, pin and neutralize them, and beat the shit out of them so the cops could take them to the station.

But this gang was known to be violent. Without reason. Without mercy.

He'd hugged you goodbye, and now you wished you'd followed your gut and told him right then and there that you loved him.

Voices rang outside the door, your heart leap: it was several.

You stand, facing the door, heart pounding.

The door opens, and there he stands....

Leo:

You sob, rushing forward, wrapping your arms around his midsection.

"Hey, hey," He coos, wincing slightly. Dropping his sheathed katanas to the floor he wraps his large arms around you. "It's alright,"

"I thought you died," You whisper, voice thick. You look up at him, he's covered in dirt and mud, and splatters of blood but he's alive and in your arms.

"I'm alright, mission just went a little sideways is all-"

Reaching up you cup his cheeks and smash your lips to his. He yelps against you, only waiting a second before kissing back, his hands frozen around your back.

You pull away, standing on your tiptoes, you kiss the words on his lips. "I love you, I've loved you for years. I'm sorry I never told you. I wanted to but I was scared. But I'm not scared now. I want you in my life forever,"

Leo's blue eyes goes wide, a smile stretching across his face. "I love you too,"

One of his hands slips into your hair, pulling you in for another passionate kiss.

Raph:

He sighs heavily, holding his shoulder, dropping his weapons half hazardly to the floor.

His eyes find your shaking form, his own going wide. "Y/n?"

You sob, rushing forward. "You're alive!" You jump into his arms, and he catches you, as he always does.

You sob into his shoulder, the one he wasn't holding, thankful to feel his heart pounding against his chest.

"Coure I'm alive," He chuckles, his hand rubbing up and down your back. "Ya think some stupid lackies can take me down?"

You pull back, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. More tears spill down your face, your hand cupping his face, your lips ghosting his.

"I thought I'd never see you again,"

"I'll never leave you,"

"Promise?"

"I promise, baby," He leans in, kissing you just as softly.

Donnie:

You're the first thing he notices.

"Y/n-" you both rush forward, leaping into each other's arms, your feet dangling off the ground.

"Donnie!" Tears spill down both of your faces, hands gripping and trying to find purchase around his shoulders.

With one hand Donnie unhooks his tools and weapons, the clatter to the floor, but he doesn't let you leave his arms.

"I didn't know if I'd ever see you again," You sob.

"I was too," He sighs. "There's something I have to tell you-"

You pull back, smashing your lips together. He wastes no time in kissing you back. Setting you down his hands tangle in your hair, titling your head up and back to meet his.

He pulls back for air, both your faces flushed.

"I love you," You both mumble at the same time, kissing again and again, long into the night.

Mikey:

"Anglecakes, what're you doing here?" His smile is tired, but his eyes shine seeing you.

"Ohmygod," You rush forward, his arms opening and pulling you tight to his chest.

"Ssshhhh, it's alright, anglecakes, I'm okay," His hands grab your thighs, hoisting you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.

"I was so worried," You sob.

"Yeah....I was too," mikeys voice cracks, his shoulder shaking as he presses his head into your neck. "But I'm okay, we're all okay, and-"

"I love you,"

Mikey pulls back, blue eyes wide, staring into your own. "What?"

"I love you, I have since the moment I met you and I wanted to tell you early. I don't want to just be your friend Mikey, I want-"

"I love you too,"

You both chuckle quietly, smashing your lips together again.

tags: @thelaundrybitch @m1dnyt3-w0lf @happymoonangel @eveandtheturtles @strawberrycakeblog @miss-andromeda @sketchy-loo6195 @leosgirl82 @sharpwindow @mysticboombox

[roses-for-rosalyn]

Hey sweetheart, I have this idea about cop!Ellie and cop!reader I've never shared bc I'm so shy to ask, but if you are open to write about it here it is.(sorry if something doesn't make sense inglish is not my first lenguage)

Well Ellie and reader are work partners and they don't really like each other because Ellie is kinda mean?(she is the director btw) but there's a tension between them anyways. So they have a night shift together and on the way in the car the reader begins to flirt, like touching ellie's thigh, and she stops in a field and fucks the reader brains out<33

-💌

This took forever but I hope I did your idea justice!

a/n: sorry I haven’t written anything in so long, life is crazy

Ellie x reader

Wc: 3k (roughly)

Minors dni 🔞 (I will jump through your screen and poke you in the eyes I stg)

CWs: police officer! Ellie and reader, play girl Ellie, fem reader, cop stuff idk, enemies to lovers (ish?), thigh riding, overstim, oral (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), multiple orgasms

—

As a small town cop things rarely became dangerous, so on the rare occasion things did go awry no one was really prepared. You got a call about a car speeding through town at about 90 miles an hour. It quickly becomes a chase with Williams at the wheel. Before she even starts catching up to the car you both begin bickering on what roads to take to catch up and who can read the license plate better. The world becomes a blur as the car picks up speed, the roaring of the engine and the sound of the sirens make it hard to hear anything.

You attempt to shout over the noise, “Williams we might be able to catch them if we take-”

“Shutthefuckup I know what I’m doing!” She yells back even louder, more irritated because you dared tell her what to do. She didn’t even let you finish and she missed the turn that would have taken you ahead of the car to block their path.

“Williams we’re gonna lose ‘em.” You couldn’t convince her, you’re not sure anyone could have. The car takes a sudden turn and she misses it, she quickly reverses and turns down the dirt road only for the car to disappear from sight. She tries to make a few turns but it’s useless, these roads went in every direction with thick woods surrounding them. Even townies got lost in there.

She slows the car down eventually coming to a stop in the middle of the road and quietly mutters “Fuck.” under her breath.

“Maybe you should have listened to the directional advice from someone who was fucking born here instead of trying to do everything yourself.” You can’t help but notice you scolded her like a primary school teacher, but she makes it so hard when she acts like this.

“Please I don’t need a fucking ‘I told you so’ talk right now.” She huffs.

“I hope you know this is completely your fault, I can’t fucking believe-”

“I swear to god if you keep talking I’m going to kick you out of this goddamn car.” She turns and looks at you straight in the eye, challenging you. Her tone is eerily calm. You narrow your gaze but say nothing, turning to look straight ahead. And with that she drives you both back to the station, defeated with only half of the criminal's license plate.

- -

Patrol partners are supposed to be friends- Or at least friend-ly. That’s what anyone would assume, you have to spend every day together, not getting along would just result in various inconvenient miscommunications and misunderstandings.

Yeah, well you weren’t that lucky. Your patrol partner is Ellie Williams aka “Williams” according to her various male coworkers. Her female coworkers tended to lean more towards nicknames like “whore” or “slut” considering she hooked up with a couple of them and then acted like she barely knew them at work the next day and did it all over again. She had to start finding hookups outside the station last month because all her go-tos had refused her unless she wanted something serious. On top of that the few that she got with turned the rest of the girls against her, all she had left was you and all the guys at the station- and you didn’t really count since you were forced to be with her. This meant recently she was particularly irritable considering she couldn’t find a lot- if any- women to relieve any of her tension, so patrolling with her for the past 30 days has been hell.

On a more positive note it made gossiping with your coworkers over coffee the best part of your day. They would talk about their hookups which would inevitably lead back to shit talking Williams- which you would enthusiastically participate in considering how she treated you on the job. However they all agreed that they tolerated it for as long as they did because the sex was good. And you believed them because they had to put up with some crazy bullshit from her. A tiny part of you yearned for them to explain just how good it was, but you’d never ever give in to that curiosity.

Williams- on the rare occasion she would say anything- was mean, she would make snide comments all the time no matter what task you were taking on. She had some sort of superiority complex because she was- admittedly- very good at her job. She had transferred from some big city to your small town station and she had much more experience. She was incredibly skilled at taking people down when she needed to. However, compared to her old job, barely anything happens here. When something did happen she would insist on taking over the task almost every single time, the only thing she couldn’t trump you in was de-escalation. She was terrible at communication and that was most of the job. Calls would mostly be noise complaints or welfare checks, so you took the lead for those and it drove her crazy. She couldn’t stand being inferior to anyone, especially on the job. So you were squabbling constantly.

And for some reason tonight she was in a particularly bad mood. You’re stationed on the side of the road, keeping watch for anyone disobeying any road safety laws and Williams is silent. Not particularly unusual, but her body language was odd, she was weirdly tense. She sat fidgeting with her hands, picking at her cuticles, occasionally glancing up if she heard a car. Nothing in you wanted to show you cared at all for her, because you didn’t, but at this point you were so bored you didn’t care if you started one of your usual squabbles.

“Something wrong Williams?” You tentatively ask.

“ ‘m fine, just tired.” she says, still not glancing up.

“You seem offly tense for a tired person.” You try to push her a bit.

She finally looks up at you, her expression remaining neutral “Considering your observations, you really think now’s a good time to test me sweetheart?” God you hated when she called you that, she refused to refer to you by your last name, always resorting to some condescending nickname.

You roll your eyes, just as you were about to respond a staticky voice interrupts, asking for anyone available for a call about a noise complaint about two minutes away. Ellie picks up the walkie and calls in saying she could take it and starts the car.

You drive there in silence and to no one’s surprise it’s Mrs. Taylor. She frequently calls at night whenever she hears her teenage neighbors so much as talk loud enough for her to hear. And every time she would make you both walk over to them and ask them to quiet down.

This time though when you got out of the car you could hear muffled music coming from the neighbor’s all the way from Mrs. Taylor’s lawn. You walk up to her door, Williams following silently, and knock gently a couple of times. You hear soft shuffling, a lock clicking and then the door opens revealing the grumpy old woman’s tired face. She’s wearing a long dusty pink robe, striped pajama pants and ratty slippers, clearly she had been recently woken up by the noise.

“Hello Mrs. Taylor.” You smile politely.

“Hello dear.” She smiles back at you, but falters for a moment when she spots your partner, refusing to acknowledge her presence. She used to babysit all the kids in the neighborhood, you were always her favorite. She treated everyone else like they were some sort of pest, especially outsiders.

“Neighbors bothering you again?” You already knew the answer, but you felt the need to be polite.

“I can’t sleep with all that ruckus, rotten children they are. Too bad too, they used to be the sweetest when they were little.” She shook her head.

“Alright we’ll get it all sorted out, you can go back to bed.” You nod your head.

The old woman smiles before reaching forward and pinching your cheek while saying “You’re so good to me dear. Come over for dinner some time so I can make it up to you.”

“Just doing my job ma'am.” You reassure her.

“Well, goodnight. Call me tomorrow morning and we’ll sort something out.” She begins shuffling backwards, and grabs the door handle.

“Good night Mrs. Taylor.” You wave at her and she closes the door.

“God you’re unbelievable.” Ellie scoffs from behind you.

“What?” you turn around to face her.

“Would it kill you to be nice to me like that once in a while?” For the life of you you could not figure out where this was coming from.

“You have to earn it.” You retort, while beginning to walk to the neighbors house. Ellie just huffs and jogs a bit to catch up to you, god forbid you get ahead of her in any way.

You make your way to the house, the bass rattling your teeth by the time you're on the front stoop. Ellie takes her usual spot behind you and you knock loudly, bashing your fist against the door. Hopefully someone hears so you don’t have to make a scene, they weren’t bad kids. Sure enough the music turns off and the door opens slowly revealing a set of scared, round eyes.

“Hey Kelly.” You knew her well from the past complaints, she was pretty polite especially for a teenager. The poor girl was practically shaking. “You probably know why we’re here.” She nods slowly. “Ok, so just do us a favor and turn your music down so we don’t get another call from Mrs. Taylor alright?” you say gently, knowing when you’re in uniform everything about you was intimidating enough without you having to yell.

“Th-that’s it?” She asks, her whole body shaking with adrenaline at this point.

“Yup, just make sure this doesn’t happen again. Shouldn’t have the volume that high anyway, it’s bad for your hearing.” You smile, “Probably don’t want to go deaf by the time you’re 20.”

Kelly just nods again “O-ok thank you. We’ll keep it down, promise.”

“Alright have a good night, stay out of trouble.” You turn away and Ellie does the same.

The walk back to the car is silent except for the steady hum of cicadas. You’re about to put your seatbelt on when Ellie says “So what do I have to do?”

You pause your movements, “What?”

“What do I have to do to earn it?” When you still look confused she elaborates “You being nice to me. What do I have to do to earn that?”

“I don’t know. With the way you treat me it’s almost like you enjoy me being mean to you.” You let out a dry laugh.

She slowly leans towards you, “Oh, I do.” She says, her tone changing completely, her voice becomes raspy and deep, almost like a whisper and a smirk tugs at her lips. “I love making you mad, but something tells me you’re even more delightful when you’re all sweet like that.”

“Williams what-” She leans even closer, inches away from your face and suddenly you forgot everything that wasn’t Ellie. You couldn’t utter a word if you tried.

“Tell me.” Her eyes flicker from yours to your lips. “What.” Her lips are so close you can almost feel her words. “To do.” You let out a sigh and give in, abandoning all logic you press your lips against hers. She stiffens but then her hands automatically move to cup your jaw so she can deepen the kiss. Her tongue swipes across your lips, inviting them to open. You can’t really move, unable to completely process what’s happening. She’s so warm and soft and everything you didn’t expect.

She starts making her way down to your neck, exploring your reactions as she kisses and sucks at the sensitive skin. A small whimper escapes from your lips, and Ellie is sure she’s never heard something more intoxicating.

“Williams-” She finds a particular spot behind your ear that causes you to let out a quiet moan, making you forget how to speak for a moment.

“W-we can’t do this here, you know that.” She stops and moves her head to meet your gaze.

“You’re right, we should probably find someplace where we don’t run the risk of teenagers or Mrs. Taylor finding us.” That wasn’t what you meant but it was probably the first time she had ever agreed with you the entire time you’ve been partners.

--

She pulls off the road into a field and as soon as she parks she immediately starts where she left off. Somehow she knew exactly how to reduce you to a whimpering mess in mere moments. In between kisses she whispers “Take off your belt.” Her tone was so sure and dominant it sent a wave of arousal straight to your center. You do as she says, you forgot you had put on your utility belt for the call, but she clearly took note. You try not to move too much as she continues marking up your skin. She stops again, “Now get in the back.” She doesn’t wait for your response before taking her own utility belt off, leaving it in the front seat and opening her door. It was a little more work in a patrol car considering there were bars separating the front and backseat, but at this point neither of you cared much.

Ellie is first to sit down in the back and shut the door behind her, you do the same and crawl over to straddle her lap. “You feelin a little eager, sweetheart?” She looks at you with that obnoxious smirk on her face, but this time it didn’t annoy you as much as it usually did. You kiss the grin off her face before moving to her neck, listening to her little sighs and moans as you press your lips to her soft skin. The noises she’s making send arousal straight to your aching center and you begin to grind down on her lap, desperate for some kind of relief. She starts taking off your belt with trembling, eager fingers and throws it off to the side. You reach for hers as she untucks your shirt and begins unbuttoning it as quickly as she could, leaving you in your tank top. Your lips meet hers and the kisses grow hungrier by the second, each of you becoming more and more eager to undress the other.

As you begin to unfasten Ellie’s shirt she sighs in frustration, “Jesus christ all these fucking layers are driving me crazy.”

You laugh and say in between kisses, “Gotta make you work for it Williams.” With that she rips off your tank top, and immediately begins groping your breasts over your bra. You moan into her mouth and begin to grind down onto her even harder. Ellie notices and spreads her legs a bit, moving your leg in between hers so you were straddling her thigh. Relief rushes through you as you lower down onto her muscular thigh and begin moving your hips back and forth. She reaches behind you to unclasp your bra leaving your top half bare for her. She can’t resist breaking the kiss to move her focus to your chest, taking your nipple in her mouth with a satisfied hum. A soft whine escapes your lips as her warm tongue circles your sensitive nipples. Her hands have a steady hold on your hips, encouraging you to move against her thigh, harder and faster. Yours have found a home in her hair, tugging harder and harder as your pleasure builds on itself causing Ellie to groan as arousal begins to pool in her boxers.

“Get up.” Ellie commands in a hoarse whisper that sends butterflies straight to your cunt. You climb off her and lean against the car door. The sight of you in the dim moonlight, topless with spread legs and unzipped pants, a fucked out expression on your face almost has Ellie coming right then and there. She unties your shoes and gently removes them, before grabbing the hem of your pants and tugging them down in one swift motion. She crawls between your legs and wraps her arms around each of your thighs, gently kissing a path to your dripping cunt. A wet spot had formed on your panties causing your face to become hot from embarrassment, but Ellie seemed to have a different reaction “God you’re so beautiful, it’s driving me crazy.” She begins teasing you over the fabric of your underwear, running her fingers up and down your slit. A whimper escapes your lips as a silent plea for more, but she continues teasing. She finally pulls the fabric of your underwear to the side and takes a moment before gently blowing on your soaked folds.

“Please-” you manage to whimper as the cool air from Ellie’s lips hits your warm center sending a pleasurable shock through you. You would expect for her to make you beg for it, but she immediately obliged, licking a line from your dripping entrance to your clit. You gasp and grip on to her hair, searching for anything to hold on to as pleasure overwhelms every one of your senses. Ellie groans at the feeling as she begins gently licking at your clit, teasing you. The sound sends vibrations through your lower body and you moan at the feeling, now losing any control you had over the volume of your voice. She begins moving her tongue in circles over your sensitive bud as she teases your entrance with a slender finger. You let out the loudest moan yet, encouraging Ellie to plunge her finger further inside you. It slides in easily, arousal practically coating your thighs at this point. Suddenly she hits the spot causing a desperate whiny “Oh fuck,” To escape from your swollen lips as you clench lightly around her finger. She adds a second, the feeling of her two fingers causes a satisfying amount of pressure to fill your cunt. She hits a spot that you swear sends white light through your closed eyes and keeps hitting it with every rough, slow thrust of her fingers. Your hips begin to move, trying to get her to fuck you harder but she only pins your down by your waist with her free hand forcing you to endure her painful pace. “Ellie,” you whine, “please- I-“ you cut yourself off with a moan.

“What do you need sweetheart?” She pauses briefly to look at your fucked out expression and your arousal has dropped all the down her chin. The very sight almost does you in.

“Please,” you beg her in hopes she’ll spare you the humiliation of asking her.

“Mm mm,” she lightly shakes her head “words baby.” That was a much better nickname, the way she said baby made your cunt flutter around her fingers

“P-please-” you sigh before finishing “-fuck me harder pleasee.” You think that’s probably the most pathetic you’ll ever sound but Ellie obeys. She sucks your puffy clit into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the hypersensitive nub before moving her fingers faster. She picks up speed until you can’t think about anything but Ellie’s mouth and fingers. The pace was practically inhuman, you tilt your head back as a silent scream rips it’s way through you before you moan “fffuuckk,” in a high pitched tone. She continues moving her hands rapidly in and out of you curling them at just the right angle. You begin to flutter around her fingers and she knew you were close.

“Almost there baby?” All you can do in response in moan, she has you practically incapacitated. She giggled a little “Good, come for me.” As her words reached your ears your pleasure finally hit it’s peak. You begin writing against Ellie’s fingers as you roughly clench down on them. Your pleasure rips through you in overwhelming waves, moans uncontrollably leaving your lips as Ellie’s fingers continue their brutal pace. She doesn’t let up though, she keeps going as your clit grows more and more sensitive. You tug at her hair but she doesn’t move, she continues as your hips begin bucking against her arm that was pinning you down.

“Ellie it’s too much I can’t-”

“You can take one more can’t you sweetheart?” She asks sweetly as she fucks your sensitive hole with no mercy. You just nod and she continues sucking and licking at your clit, occasionally moaning which only enhanced the overwhelming pleasure. This time you were more tightly wound up and faster. It didn’t take long before you approached the edge again, the feeling twice as intense. You almost worry as it begins to build and build, just as you thought you had reached your peak it kept going. You finally topple over the edge as Ellie’s teeth lightly graze your clit, the feeling sending you into overdrive. You tugs Ellie’s hair harder than you ever had before as you make a mess all over the seats and Ellie’s mouth and fingers. She laps it all up contently, actually backing down when you pushed her away this time. She leans back into her knees and tries to catch her breath.

A smirk grows on your face as you begin leaning towards her, “it’s your turn.”

—

Idrk how I feel about this but at least I finished it 😀👍

Reblogs and notes are always appreciated and encouraged 💕‼️

Hopefully I will start updating more but I can’t really promise anything lmao

[chosos-mascara]

red, blood

𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 𝙠𝙖𝙢𝙤 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - bitten by a stranger, you notice an extreme aversion to food - instead craving one substance above all. moments from taking a life, choso brings you back to normalcy; with only one issue. it's choso's blood that you crave.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - vampire!choso, (new)vampire!reader, blood drinking, mentions of death, smut, biting, blood, blood again because there's so much blood described in this fic, scratching, strangers to ?, cowgirl, sex in a forest, creampies, cunnilingus, attacking ppl for food lol, instruction.

10.8k words

You'd heard rumors of the old house on the hill. Some had stated the lot had been vacant for years, others that it had been haunted - though one questionable rumor in particular had sparked interest more than others. When Nobara would voice her theories of vampires hiding within the four tall walls, interesting and ancient beings derived from demons, your blood would run cold and skin prickle with exhilaration. She'd bring her stories forward as if truth; tales of cursed creatures surviving on the blood of humans, told with enough vivid detail to convince you Nobara had experienced said adventures herself. Though, the excitement had fizzled out when bringing the question to your mother, her excuse for the house on the hill much less interesting. Apartments. 

As adulthood had taken over, a mundane life following your mother's footsteps, you'd rarely questioned what had been so intriguing to you as a child. Maybe when driving back into town and passing by the outskirts, the house on the hill would catch your eye, but you'd never lingered upon it for more than a few moments. Caught in thought or attention diverted to the road, what had once been a mystery filled with child-like wonder had now died out. Your imagination had simply matured, like the rest of your dreams. 

As the chief of police's daughter, it had felt natural for you to move into the same profession. Your mother raising you as a single parent, tired days turned longer after she'd been called in only minutes after returning home, promises of vacations that had instead consisted of watching her work at the station, a career within the place you'd spent half of your life within had always been how you'd pictured your life progressing.

Of course, it had been that your first solo dispatch as a qualified officer had been to the woodland outside of town, connecting to the same dingy road the old house had bordered. A concerned resident had made several calls regarding screams within the woods, and you were to take a statement. 

Back slouching against the drivers seat, you took a breath. There had been a racing in your chest, nervousness for your first case to begin; your first public interaction. Perhaps somewhere within the anxiousness had been excitement, though looking through the windshield to the fog ridden forest around you, you weren't so sure. Trees stood tall, dirt path winding until reaching the base of the grassy hill. When peering upward, you could make out a faint outline of the house, a reminder to childhood conversations between yourself and friends. If only life could've remained so full of thrill.  

Once stepping from the ranger, you brushed creases from your uniform and, with a sigh, slammed the door closed. The residence you'd been called to hadn't looked well-kept, ivy taking over decaying brickwork, windows dirty. When approaching, you'd almost tripped over an exposed root from thick bush, standing as yet another reminder this home hadn't been in good shape. Before raising fist to knock, you straightened the badge on your belt, fingers grazing over the new metallic front. As your fist hit the door it had rattled, and you'd been left to notice rot within the bowed wood, oak splintering and stained. The longer you'd stood, the less driven you'd been to stay, an uneasy feeling settling in your gut. 

Though, you hadn't time to bail as the door creaked open, revealing an older gentleman hunched forward, his weight distributed between both handle and cane. His narrow eyes met yours as he questioned your presence, an apprehensive smile spreading over your lips for good measure. "Are you Fujita-san? We received a call from you regarding noise in the neighborhood." The term 'neighborhood' had been used loosely as you stood at the only house within a half-mile radius. "Come in." The cane caused a harsh bang on the hardwood floor as he shuffled backward, stopping sooner than you'd anticipated to leave a gap you'd been barely sure you would fit through. Such a confident smile had faltered when slipping between door and frame as your arm brushed over the cotton sleeve of his bath-robe.

When navigating past him, looking for a clear route to lounge or seating area, regret had pooled in your body. The house was suspiciously sparse with no light sources and evidently had not been lived within. It still begged the question of why you'd been called here, and why such an old and practically immobile man had been here to answer the door. 

 You couldn't turn to question him, words taken before formulated as cold fingers wrapped harshly over your hand, arm brought upward and a sharpness in your wrist. Yelling out in pain, you attempted to pull your limb back to safety, head snapping to lock with red eyes. Between his lips and your flesh crimson blood had flowed, staining blue uniformed shirt. No matter the resistance from yourself, the strength of his grasp wouldn't falter. Eventually, after abrasive kicks and punches, you'd knocked into his knees with a harsh stamp, frail bones cracking as he stumbled from your being. With a tug of your forearm, you broke free, quick footsteps through the door to sprint toward your car. As if graced by God, you started the engine and pulled away. 

The drive home had felt dreamlike. Sweat poured from every inch of skin, hands trembling and breaths heavy. The steering wheel had felt slippery, yet you wouldn't look down, overtaken by fear. When navigating through the surrounding country roads and eventually coming back into the city, you'd reassured yourself the liquid coating your hands had been only sweat caused by adrenaline, nothing more. Though when pulling into your drive, mind hazy as the world around you had lagged behind, you dropped your gaze, a panicked gasp when met with the crimson thickness of blood, a thick and bubbling coating of both the car's interior and your uniform. 

You woke in bed, bolting upright. Light shone through white curtains, thin cotton barely acting as a barrier from the rays of sun beyond the windows. A sheen of sweat had coated the gap between your skin and the uniform you'd still worn, the start of a fever prickling over your body only moments after waking. Your head ached, a pounding against skull that had at first felt reminiscent of a hangover, though as seconds passed, it had intensified beyond that.

A mere text to explain your absence at work had been all you'd mustered as you crouched over the toilet bowl, intense flurry of vomiting as you feigned the gap between conscious and unconsciousness. The memory of your evening before had felt hazy, only flashes of the attack within the house, with more questions raised than answered. How had you gotten home? A sudden flash of the sickening sight when parking up had flickered into mind, another retch into porcelain. 

Looking to the wrist that had bled so freely before, a bandage had been wrapped around damp skin. You peeled back the woven white to analyse the wound below - only to find undamaged flesh. A distant buzz in your head, visions of red, crimson, thick liquid originating from multiple branches, pooling into one abundant ocean. The inside of the cloth had been tainted by two distinct dots of red, yet no marks had remained over your wrist. 

Though, your internal interrogation to past self had ceased as another wave of nausea hit, this time the sickness dispelled from your body closely resembling the consistency and colour of the blood coursing through your veins. Weakness had overcome you next, collapsing to rest upon cold bathroom tile. Through a shroud of darkness you'd attempted to call for help, yet all energy had left you.

The headache had lifted. A lack of fatigue, no sweat, no unbearable fever. Had this been a dream? Pushing yourself from the floor, you stood hunch over sink, peering to the mirror hanging at head height. Hair a bird's nest, bags set deep beneath eyes, you'd felt an instinct to shower. A low growling from your stomach while rubbing soap over unclean skin had signaled the second action on your itinerary.

Cereal poured into the bowl, drowning in milk. Something usually enjoyed before work had excited you, eagerly lifting metal spoon to lips and shoveling the first sugary mouthful between your teeth. Only, crunching down on a breakfast favourite had felt agonizing, the usual sweet taste mingling with tones of chocolate now tasting foul, nausea rushing over your body in a cold sweat as you rushed to the kitchen sink. 

Eggs had been the next trial. Fried with salt and pepper dotted across white and yolk, a slice of bread to house a usually adequate food. It had taken only one bite to reach the same effect, heaving into the metal sink. 

Toast, a staple for those suffering from a stomach bug. Only a swipe of butter to prevent the dry grain sticking to the roof of mouth, but not too much as to upset a stomach. Though, perhaps there had been a little too much dairy as you'd vomited once more. An attempt to cleanse your throat with a cool glass of water had resulted in the vacation of your stomach yet again, abs aching as you retched. 

Tears had welled within your eyes as they glossed over bowls of food before you, none of which you'd been able to digest. Another shower, another set of clothes, an hour spent pacing around the kitchen in thought. There had been one simple comfort food you'd yet to try: soup. When ill, that's what most people have, right? 

Emptiness had resided within your stomach as you turned the ignition, hands placed over the wheel - with another confusing installment as you peered down to the interior. Instead of dried blood coating leather, there had been nothing to serve as evidence for the imagery belonging to the evening before.

Pulling away, foot on the gas, you instead tried to focus on what you'd be purchasing at the store. A logical place to start would be canned soup, painkillers, and electrolytes. The fever you'd slowly overcame had taken much from you, so when parking in the lot beside local grocery store you'd reminded yourself to take it easy, to be quick. 

Weak legs carried you to the automatic door, absentmindedly taking a basket to carry on your journey. Though as you'd began to shop, shuffling forward you'd been distracted by a bad scent hanging in the air, a metallic iron piercing through nostrils. Squinting your eyes, you'd attempted to simply concentrate on purchasing the essentials you'd needed, glancing to the first isle. Cracked and aged tile had sat beneath your shoes, bright lights illuminating shelves filled with stock, yet you'd found yourself unable to concentrate on any of the mundane surroundings. 

Basket between weak fingers, you felt uneasy, overwhelming smells, sounds and sensations over skin suddenly heightening, ambient chatter merging into a loud and blaring ringing. With the overstimulating environment your lungs felt squeezed of air, an inability to regulate breaths. Hyperventilating, the metal handle left your grasp, a shift in your insides as the scent that had felt so disgusting only moments prior had now intoxicated you, an all encompassing and primal need to taste - but what exactly, you hadn't been sure. Only when your vision had raised from newly empty hands had you found the source of need.

A younger woman, earbuds within her ears and a furrowed brow as she glanced among the various vegetables shelved before her. As if hunting prey, your line of tight had felt tunneled, heightened senses latched onto her movements. The music blaring into her ears had been tinny and distorted, yet you felt able to make out lyrics even if stood meters away. 

Mouth running dry, a step forward. You ran tongue across teeth, a starling difference within your gums; an ache, canines feeling unfamiliar between lips. Sharp. Within you had been an urge to bite, chew and rip apart thick mounds of flesh, to watch blood pour into the fresh wound, to drink the sweet ambrosia pooling over raw skin. An animal carnage set behind your eyes, the ringing had intensified, throat closing up with shallow breaths, head floating in a haze.

A slow step forward, consumed by untamed yearning for blood, you'd attempted to fight the fearful feeling clouding your mind, a last attempt at humanity as you'd dreaded the action you weren't sure you could take. Surroundings fading away, you'd committed, another step toward her. 

You bumped into a solid mound - a figure standing larger than you; broader. With the lock on your target removed, the predatory hypnosis had lifted, tears blinked back upon registering the measures you'd been about to take, the intention you'd had. If you hadn't been pulled from the fog, the unaware innocent would've fell victim to your teeth sinking into her skin, throat ripping from body.

"Focus on me." A deep reverberance had echoed through your core, a sudden coolness brushing over heated cheeks as he'd laid open palms to burning skin. Through blurred vision, you met eyes to the source of reprieve, deep purple orbs staring back under a furrowed brow, concentration written over his expression as he'd centered himself only on you. There had been a frown set across his lips, beneath a thick black like etched into the middle of his face, curving to the bridge of his nose. Black hair had fallen from his head and framed his profile the upper section partitioned into two loose buns.

"Good girl, that's it. Calm down." The softly spoken voice had ricocheted through your bones once more, a comfort only God himself could have given you, with a desire to obey. Staring into your soul had been a person you hadn't recognized, yet you'd felt your heart had known. Staggered breaths had turned consistent as you'd done as he'd asked, focusing purely on him, gaze locked onto the thick line across his skin.

"We're going to leave." He instructed you, sights dropping to the lips that had formed the words, a small nod as you put your trust into the stranger. "When we start walking, keep your eyes to the floor, and your mouth closed." His hands dropped from your cheeks, leaving skin bare. Only with his touch turning absent had you realized he'd been supporting your head, unexpectedly feeling much heavier without the large embrace.  "Look down, remember?" His reminder had caused you to obey, dropping your head to face the tile, bright overhead lights reflected on the sheen. 

Only when stepping foot outside had you felt yourself relax, fresh air alleviating the hyper stimulation, aiding the unbearable hunger. The sound of birdsong as day turned into evening had soothed overwhelmed ears, muscles relaxing. Once beside an unknown car, the male had halted, gesturing you to climb within the passenger seat. You'd shot him a look of confusion, yet he'd only repeated the action. Uneasiness set in as he opened the door, harsher gaze causing a churning in your stomach.  

You slipped in and he closed the door beside you, walking to the driver's side and slumping into leather. Before questioning you, he let out a sigh, eyes closing and head hitting the headrest behind him. Had you been within a different situation, you'd have admired his profile more, a sharp jawline and pretty hair, tired eyes in need of comfort. 

"Who are you?" He finally broke the silence by asking the first question he'd had when walking by your demonic form, eyes blood red and teeth poking from lip. It had been more than lucky he'd been there to stop you from your urges, and he didn't appreciate the odds. If he hadn't have been in the same store, a massacre would've occurred, an unstoppable force of cursed-being quenching an insatiable thirst. He'd known the loss of control too well, and reaped the consequences. 

Within the car you'd felt at ease from the outside world, from what had felt too fast and jaded to bare. Your lips formed your name, line of sight finally lifting from the dash to console his gaze. Concern had been etched across his features, merging with stress and sympathy. 

"What just happened?" You'd asked, and he'd turned head to glance through the windshield. He scanned over the parking lot, half empty, trees bordering concrete. How couldn't you know about what you were? Had you played dumb to manipulate his support? 

"What do you already know?" His counter-question had confused you, and he'd watched through the corner of his eye as your face contorted to that of uncertainty. "I'll ask this, then - were you bitten?" The words spoken had your eyes widening, lips parting in surprise. You hadn't connected the bite you'd endured to the sudden sickness, but it hadn't been possible he'd passed a disease to you, surely?

Events from those days before had raced through your mind; red eyes, a stinging over your wrist. With a reluctant nod from yourself, fingers ghosting over where the bite had been, you'd added your rejection of this theory. "There's no marks- I don't think he bit me hard enough to pass anything to me." 

He chose to ignore your thought process, a sense of hopelessness to your condition.  "When were you bitten?"  A squirrel had ran across the cement, stopping over a vacant parking space to pick a fallen pine-cone. You watched as your mind raced, a realization that today had felt much further than that evening than you'd thought, how long were you out? What day had it been, now?  "I don't know-" Stuttered words, you searched for the date within your mind, an image of the paperwork, the anxiety of the first solo call-out. "The first. The first of March." 

His expression dropped, jaw opening as he glanced to the digital clock on the dash, red letters stating date, and time.  "At what time?" His tone was quieter as panic set in, fear and sorrow harboring concern.  "I had a call-" Closing your eyes, you pictured the ranger's radio, time on the clock as you'd stepped from the car to forest floor. "I think around three." 

"And you haven't fed?" Disbelief had decorated him; or had it been horror?  "I tried to eat earlier, but I couldn't stomach it." The explanation had him shaking his head, lips pursing and eyes rolling. His hand balled into a fist over his thigh, fabric scrunching to the center as he'd had enough of your logical excuses.  "I'm not talking about that -" He let out a breath, choosing to spit out the fact he'd tried to keep from you. From now, your life would change forever. "Blood. You need blood." The statement had made little sense to you, though. A disapproving scowl shot his way had been ignored through closed lids, rapid thoughts as he'd searched for a fix to the situation. 

"A transfusion? I'm okay, I just had a fever." The brushing off of his concerns had angered him, how had humans been so straight-thinking? A species that he'd lived among, yet fought to understand. "I probably need a vaccination, though. Maybe he did pass something on..." Your voice trailed off in worry. The rational explanations from you had caused uneasiness, another deep exhale as he placed to fingers to temple. 

"Listen," He'd began, pulling your attention to painted nails at the end of pale fingers. "You need to drink, or your body will reject the transformation." Opening his eyes, his hand turned the key, engine humming. "Where do you live?"  "Oh, I can drive, my car's-" Beginning to point toward your own vehicle your words had died off, the dead-pan stare he'd given you instead pushing you to whisper the address with agitated tone.

Alarm bells you were sure should have rung had remained silent as he drove you home, a short journey filled with stillness. One hand over the gearshift, other on the wheel, you'd watched in admiration. The presence from the stranger had been comforting, and when walking to your door, you'd realized how little you wanted him to leave. 

Only when inviting him inside had you asked for his name, a startled drop of expression as a memory had been sparked from childhood. 

"I heard the Kamo family lives there." Nobara leaned forward, marshmallow browning in the fire as she smiled widely, a gap in the top row of teeth. Megumi rolled his eyes, a sigh from parted lips. He'd had one arm crossed over the other, wearing a frown.  "It's just folklore." His attempts to quieten his friend had been redundant as the small girl had a story to tell. When Nobara had her mind set on something, no one could stop her. 

"The Kamos are vampires, my sister told me herself!" The smile turned to scowl as she brought the marshmallow to her face, black charring coating the outside. She'd burned another one.  "What does your sister know about vampires? She's a botanist, not a monster hunter." His pessimism had been ignored as she'd instead turned to you, heartache from the burned sweet forgotten as she grinned to your curious expression. 

"My sister said they've lived in the house on the hill for decades, and they feed off the people in the neighboring houses. That old guy died, didn't you hear? What was his name..." She trailed off in thought, a disapproving sigh from Megumi as he'd added to the story he hadn't wished to be a part of.  "Fujita-san?" The correction had excited Nobara, an enthusiastic nod as she'd taken the queue to continue.  "Yeah, they found him with puncture wounds, but they couldn't do the autopsy because he disappeared from the morgue! My sister said she saw Kamo Choso by the funeral home that night - I think the Kamos took him!"  

She'd watched your guise closely, in need of validation for her story-telling skills, and maturity. You'd glanced to Megumi, his placid countenance revealing little about how he'd felt.  "I'm sure she was just visiting someone, Nobara." 

Now, Choso had stood before you, speaking of drinking, of blood and bites, of information attributed to the folklore an old friend had spoken of. Vampires were beings written into fairy-tales and horror films - things that surely couldn't apply to reality. Had he been insane? You'd watched in silence as he brought his wrist to lips, a crunch and pop of skin pierced, pulling back the wounded appendage to reveal bloodied lips. Crimson coated skin, bubbling at the incision marks. 

"What the fuck-" You'd began to chastise his actions, yet when transferring gaze to gloss over face, you'd been left speechless. His eyes no longer purple, orbs covered in a pitch black, small veins of purple and blue branching from lid to brow and bags beneath. Between his lips, teeth that had resembled more of animal than human. 

The metallic smell had returned. The pulsing within chest and body as your eyes had been drawn away from his and toward the bleeding limb before you, now inches from face. Hand skimming his skin, gaze locked to the dark red, you'd felt transfixed. Hunger and desire had brought you to the point of leaning toward his offering, lips finally locking over the wound, tongue sliding over crimson. 

The thick drink hit your throat, coating you as if honey, soothing a burn you hadn't recognized before now. A hum of pleasure muted to his skin as you took more, a warmth in your stomach, a supple pleasantry you could only imagine had mirrored that of child drinking from mother. Warm, soft, nurturing. 

Time had stilled, but a gentle push of your shoulder had indicated you'd taken enough, breaking you from the trance. Fingers reaching upward, you ghosted the liquid painted over lips and chin, grazing across teeth that hadn't felt much like your own. Choso let out a breath, watching your bewilderment with tired eyes and sincere expression. He'd felt guilt from the twisting in his stomach as you'd breathed heavy sighs of relief, ashamed of the change in his perception of you now you'd taken from him. With his blood over your lips, you'd looked pretty. 

"From now, you'll need blood to survive." He began, looking from you to instead inspect your home, glossing over framed photos in the hall, landing over a small succulent on a shelf. Through one doorway had been a lounge that he'd found himself following you into, taking a seat on the couch. Slumping back, he continued. "I'm not here to tell you what to do, but for the survival of our kind, I recommend drinking from animals. There's plenty of deer in the woodland to pick from, but it should be fresh." 

"Is that what you do?" He'd shifted on the cushions, eyes darting around the new surroundings to avoid your own questioning gaze.  "No. My father sources blood from the local hospital. Animal blood will hinder some ability - though in your case it's a better option." 

Although his flesh had healed, there had been a tightness within your chest when scanning over remnants of dried blood decorating his wrist - bringing back the intimate moment you'd shared.  "Can I... have more?" A sultry request leaving lips before you'd assessed your own questioning, though he'd chalked it down to hunger rather than the chance you had also felt a throb between legs when enjoying his blood. It had been down to the curse that you'd felt this way, after-all.

Choso's eyes felt unreadable, small movements from the tightening of his jaw as he'd hesitated. It hadn't been a good idea to encourage this behavior, yet he'd found his fingers hooking the neck of his shirt, exposing the base of neck curving to shoulder. An invitation for you to drink, a hypnotic pull toward the source of desire. He waited, pale skin exposed, for your teeth to graze him. When your eyes had landed upon the paths of veins beneath epidermis, blue lines both thick and thin, you'd leaned forward. 

Mouth watering, canines elongated and vision tunneling, there had been a magnetism toward the thick flesh and muscle that you'd felt yourself succumb to. He shuddered under the feeling of your teeth piercing sensitive skin, internalizing a moan of pleasure when he felt his blood flow from his vein to your lips. You gulped back the nectar that flowed through him and only him. 

Choso scaled a hand upward, fingers wrapping around the nape your neck and pressing you further into the crevice you'd resided within. Initially, he'd intended to pull you away, yet when a quiet hum of satisfaction had left your lips to vibrate against his skin, there had been a twang within his core; an ache that he couldn't ignore. So, instead of pushing you away, he'd forced you closer, allowing eyes to flutter shut. The near inaudible sounds of suckling had been music to his ears, tightness within his jeans when he'd allowed himself to feel a sensation he'd long since forgotten. Pleasure. 

Blood dribbled from the corner of your mouth when you'd pulled back, watching his expression intently to gauge his emotional state. Should you thank him? 

Your lips parted, his gaze locked over the small dips and creases that had been filled with his blood, coating thickly and cascading over the curve to meet chin. Choso ghosted a thumb over the mess, but chose not to swipe it away. Though, it had been too late to stop the pull you'd felt, a spark of lust ignited to the man you hadn't known but now craved.

Following your heart you'd straddled him, eyes locked when thigh caged thigh. His hands laid to rest over your hips, and as you'd set yourself still, your attention had been brought to the hardness of his crotch. Sighing at the contact, you'd been aware of the arousal pooling between legs, teeth grazing lip. Choso pulled your face to his, a moment taken to stall before you'd finally closed the gap.

When tasting his own blood so poignantly over your lips, mingling with tongue, his hips had bucked upward. He groaned at the sweet metallic nectar he'd known well, a cup over cheek, nails dragging over subtle flesh. Would he taste you, too? 

"Kamo..." Whispered between brisker kisses, you felt his lips move to linger over your cheek, trailing to your neck. The flat of his tongue rolled over skin, a shiver prickling down your spine before his mouth hovered to lobe.  "Can I?" His voice sounded deeper, a resonance of lust and husk of desire woven into the softness. A nod from you is all he'd needed to proceed, eyes overshadowed by darkness, glossy through arousal. 

A sharpness met your flesh, dragging slowly as if to tease, lips grazing the area as his mouth widened. Finally, he punctured skin, tasting your essence for the first time. Groaning, you rolled hips against his, head tilting to land over his shoulder as you shared yourself with him. Warm, lightheaded, you circled against him, a regular friction over the brick in his trousers.  "Feels good." Praises whispered to his ear had Choso yearning for more. 

Only for a moment he'd pulled back, pushing a hand to unbutton jeans and offer relief to the ache, finally free from cloth cage. Your fingers had looped through your own hem, pulling trousers to sit at mid-thigh before rolling them over knee. When exposed, Choso's eyes dropped, hands grasping the fat of your hips to guide you down onto his cock.

The stretch had been euphoric, jaw widening to allow mews to echo against his shoulder. Sinking down, you squeezed your eyes closed, arching of back only pushing you closer.  "More..." His voice was strained as he fought to ground himself, fearing the chance of losing his mind when he'd felt your intoxicating cunt take him in. It had been a long while since he'd allowed a woman to take him, since he'd felt the tightness of fleshy walls embrace him, milking his cock with each jut of hips. Once you'd found a rhythm with shallow breaths complimented by whines, Choso had reattached his lips to your neck, a vibration of chest emitting to yours to appreciate the skin he'd felt drunk against.  

Lapping, swallowing and humming had been the only noses dancing within your ears, an inability to remove your focus from the body beneath you and the flow of your soul intertwining with his. Choso's hand and the back of your head had met once again, guiding you toward the base of his neck. There had no longer been the bloody wound to signify your last bite, but he enticed you to make another, tongue grazing flesh. 

Each mouth occupied by the other's neck, a transfusion of blood through one another's vein. Choso felt himself twitch within your walls, abdomen sucking inward and a grunt as the coil had snapped, nails cutting into you with force as he drove your movements with white ropes shooting inside of you. Ecstasy had washed over the pair of you as he milked himself with your cunt, the taste of your iron oozing into his mouth. 

Once past the haze of his high, he pulled from your neck, sinking back into the sofa cushions behind. Blood stained his shirt, drips from lips to chin as the primal darkness from his eyes faded.  "Your eyes..." Voice raw, rasp tickling throat, you'd attempted to voice your confusion at the changes in appearance when feeding. The blackness had shrouded the entirety of the eye, unlike Fujita's that had been a vibrant shade of red. 

"When you feed, your face reflects the parasite inside. Eyes will change, teeth grow." His explanation had been voiced as he traced circles over the scratches he'd caused.  "I don't understand what's happening to me -" Only beginning to push further, you were stopped by drowsiness. The purple orbs had watched as you slumped forward to his shoulder, arms holding you in place.  "The transition is ending." Choso's words had been the last thing heard as darkness consumed your soul.

The haze lifted, slowly. 

Sitting upright, your confused gaze straightened out when taking in your surroundings. You'd laid on the couch, blanket over body as you'd looked around the room. There had been little sign of Choso now, but your hoarse voice called for him nonetheless, unsurprised to hear no response. When pushing yourself from firm cushion, you'd questioned the likelihood that last night had been another fever dream - though a blue piece of paper ripped from notebook and black ball-pen beside it had indicated that the evening prior had in fact been reality. Two words scribbled over the blank page had made your stomach flip.

good luck. 

Wandering through your home, you'd debated what to do. Choso had left no point of contact, and had offered little advice in terms of the newly acquired blood-lust. Only one other person had sprung to mind, one childhood friend who had shared a passion for supernatural stories of vampires hiding within the shadows; Nobara. Though, the chances of her holding valuable information had been slim, and even then, the likelihood of her laughing off your questions had been more than likely, she had been your only lead. 

Thumb hovering over call, you'd contemplated if this had in fact been a good idea. But, the more you questioned it, the less you'd felt you'd had to lose - the chance of her knowing something had outweighed the possibility of being made fun of, with much more to gain from the former. 

"Hello?" Her voice echoed through receiver, tone lightly sprinkled in annoyance.  "Nobara." Her name fell from your lips as you brought a nail to lips, biting over it before continuing. "I wanted to ask something, about when we were kids." 

She laughed in irritation. "You disappear off the face of the earth for a week and call me to ask about our childhood?" 

"I'm sorry, I've been sick with a fever," You thought, closing eyes to focus, to think of a better excuse than I got turned into a vampire. "and I spent the time in bed, remembering something."  "I was worried about you, asshole." Her tone was lighter now, though you could picture the scowl you were sure had been etched across her face. "What did you wanna ask?"  "The house, on the hill. When we were kids, you mentioned the Kamos living there." Trying to remain ambiguous, you steered clear of word vampire, weary not to plant a seed of concern within her mind. As a person within your late twenties, supernatural creatures hadn't felt appropriate to bring up without reason. 

"What are you saying, you didn't run into one, did you?" The bitchiness she'd previously displayed had suddenly switched to alertness, a red flag sprung within her mind. "Listen, stay away from Kamos. They're..." She let out a wry breath. "They're not good people."  "Oh, I just- I was just wondering about them, I've never seen one before." You'd hoped she would believe the lie, though her response had only raised more questions. 

"Okay. Was that all?" There was movement on the other side of the line, followed by another woman's voice.  "Yeah." It felt no use to keep pushing. "But, why aren't they good people?"  "If I told you, you wouldn't believe me, okay? Just- stay away from them." She'd hushed the other person, trying to listen for your response.  "Okay. Send my regards to Maki." 

With no luck from the phone call, you left isolated within your own thoughts. Two days had passed with concerned calls from your mother and colleagues, flowers sent to your door that had been thrown out due to an unbearable scent. There would be a time in which you'd have to return to work, yet you couldn't trust yourself not to attack other beings. Would this be life from now on? 

It had all started with that bite, with the house bordering the forest. Something had happened to you within that moment, that you'd been left unable to understand. Had the teeth that pierced your skin been laced with poison? 

A pounding over door had caused you to grown in annoyance, pushing yourself from the self-loathing thoughts and the safety of bed to shuffle toward the hall. The knocking had continued until you'd opened it, eyes squinting as sun had cast light into what had been the dark home you'd hidden within. Megumi had stood within the day, and without a greeting had shoved past you to enter, hand already in contact with the door above your head to slam it closed behind him. 

"Well, that was rude." Sarcastic comment from your lips, a roll of eyes, you looked to your friend in worry. Though, this fear hadn't been due to his abrupt arrival, but to the blood-lust imbued with your soul. 

"Don't tell Kugisaki." His statement had caught you off guard, opening your mouth to question him, only to be cut off. "They're hunters. The second she finds out, you're dead." 

Perplexed expression, questions swirled through your mind. "How?" Searching for an answer within his eyes, you were offered little in return. Megumi had always done well to mask his true emotion, though even with his efforts, you'd been able to read waves of genuine distress. 

"Yuji." A name you'd known well, the pink haired ball of energy the three of you would hang around with often as children, though when reaching high-school, tragedy had struck and his life had been taken. His funeral had been the first you'd attended, his death the first wave grief you'd endured. 

"What does Yuji have to do with this, Megumi?" 

He looked to the floor, exhaling slowly. 

"Megumi." Tone harsher, you pushed him further. 

"He's Kamo's half brother. They live together." 

He prepared himself for the barrage of hate, understanding your anger stemming from a place of hurt, the trauma of losing a close friend while still so young. You hadn't just mourned over the past, but the future he'd lost. Hours spent wondering if you'd have just paid more attention, or offered to walk him home that evening, he wouldn't have been killed. 

"Yuji's- He's dead, Megumi." His face was placid, eyes on the floor. "Tell me, he's dead, isn't he?" Instead of reassurance, your friend had offered an alternative.  "He was never alive." His hands grasped one another, nail picking at skin.  "Why are you being to cryptic?" Tears welled in your eyes as you pictured Yuji growing without you, without his friends. He'd been around all these years?  "He was cursed by his family, same as Choso. They're different to us, though." "Us?" 

Megumi sighed, eyes closing. "You're not the first Fujita has bitten."  Although surprised, you'd felt some relief in the fact you'd be able to control yourself around Megumi, the realization that the insatiable blood-lust had not been triggered within his presence. It had been obvious he wasn't human. 

"How does this tie into you knowing I'm a vampire?" The final piece of the puzzle.  He sighed at your label, flinching at the childish nature, yet understanding the lack of pragmatic options within this reality. "It's called a cursed-being." Corrected, your cheeks burned in embarrassment. "Kamo came home smelling like you. Did he hurt you?" You felt his gaze scanning over you, though quickly shook your head to dismiss the accusation. 

"But, Choso hasn't fed from the source in decades, why now?" You hadn't seen Megumi so sporadic before, usually mellowed and calm, now on edge. Panicked, and scarred. 

"Choso didn't hurt me. He let me feed from him." You danced around the terminology. Had this been the correct phrasing for something so foreign to you?  "No, he smelled of your blood, he must've taken some." Megumi pushed, leaving you burning up with the memories of his skin on yours, his blood trailing over your lips, the euphoria of sharing yourself with him. "Oh, don't tell me-" He pulled a face, scoffing. "That's disgusting." 

Walking through woodland, twigs broke beneath your feet. It hadn't taken long for you to find the house once more, the residence haunting your mind, to forever be ingrained within your memory, your dreams. If what Megumi had spoken had been true, Fujita would still be lurking around the surrounding wood, a being to fear. The dangers had scared you, but the need for answers had conquered fear, reasoning with yourself that you'd be dead if not able to find the truth before long. 

Bashing shoulder to door, the  bowing wood splintered, giving way after a second hit. You'd placed a foot over the barrier with reluctance, unwanted memories flooding brain when passing through the doorway. You scanned the interior, glancing over chipped flooring and decaying walls. It had been clear the lot had been vacant, something that should have been a bigger cause for alarm when you'd first approached the house. If it had been possible to turn back time and undo the need to please your mother, you'd prevent yourself from taking the case, from coming here alone. Things could've turned out differently had you valued your safety over appraisal. 

An uncomfortable emptiness had reminded you of the fact you hadn't fed since Choso had offered himself to you, and unless you'd eaten soon, you would likely die. Though, you hadn't been so sure you weren't dead already. A wooden bookshelf had been coming away from peeling walls, scent of decay ripe on your nose when growing closer. Frowning, you examined the books, finger trailing over thick coatings of dust before stopping over one decorated in a thick red cover, golden swirls ornately decorating both edges and spine. Blowing dirt away, you opened the thin, discolored pages, stopping when glossing over a drawing. Black eyes, surrounded by veins. Beneath, the text: pure-blooded eyes. 

Ornately drawn with high attention to detail, the image had closely resembled the eyes of Choso, initiating a tingle across skin upon remembering the deepness searching within your own. Chin dripping in blood, gaze lustful, an evil aura that had enticed you. They'd been vastly different to the irises you'd met in your encounter with Fujita, and held more of a predatory semblance. You scanned the writing further, searching for an explanation to the differing characteristic. 

'Descendants of the original cursed-being are named pure-bloods. A scarce species treated as royalty among most of the cursed, as pure-bloods hold the power of birth among curses. 

If bitten by a feral curse, the victim will fall to a fever, reverting to a feral state unless pure-blood is consumed by the sixth day of infection. 

Pure-blood is a great rarity among cursed-beings; worshiped. Those carrying the pure-blood will as such refrain from blood sharing, a topic deemed taboo among cursed-beings. Cursed blood is to be exchanged during mating ceremonies, an intimacy between betrothed. If un-mated, a cursed-being shall not allow another to drink from them. 

As a result of this, 99.4% of  infection cases end in feral curses.' 

The book closed by shaking hand. A breath you hadn't realized you'd held had finally been dispelled, the aching fullness of your chest withering. If the writing had held truth, Choso's action of blood sharing had been a large gesture, or display of desire. The phrase 'pure-blood' had stuck in the fore-front of mind, a reminder of the aura Choso had radiated, and the control he'd had. When he'd asked you to focus on him, to calm yourself, it had felt so natural to follow the flow of his voice and find solace within his presence - was this the presence of a pure-blood? 

A car engine approaching had pulled you from the stupor you'd allowed yourself to hang within, head snapping upward and turning toward the doorway. You pressed yourself against the wall, eyes closed and focused on listening to the footsteps that had followed the slam of a car door. The sound of radio static had caused concern, a realization that whomever had been approaching the house had likely been law-enforcement, and by that respect, would know your face. When peeking to the hall, you'd watched a beam from flashlight scan the floorboards, booted feet stepping through. 

"Anyone in here?" Low toned voice echoing through the house had your head had darting back, holding breath with back pressed to wall. Looking over your surroundings, you contemplated a better hiding place. Though, you'd became distracted when taking a steady inhale through your nose, an attempt to oxygenate your lungs after holding breath a little too long, your stomach dropped. Blood. 

The stench had been intoxicating, unbearable. Just like the woman in the grocery store, the potent scent had been something you'd felt yourself incapable of ignoring, once dry mouth now salivating, sharpness of teeth and fangs apparent against skin. Thinking back to the store, imagining Choso's face, you tried your best to ignore the pull toward vein as she edged closer, drool falling from mouth as you'd squeezed eyes closed. Through darkness, images of blood had played throughout your mind, an inescapable urge as you pushed yourself from the wall, eyes meeting victim. 

"Stop right there!" The officer had shouted, yet with your enhanced speed she'd been helpless. A wail ricocheted the empty walls of the entry-way as her arm had been twisted by your hand, weapon dropping to clatter to floor. Pushing her toward the wall, you'd lunged toward her neck, but she'd fought back with a knee to stomach and shove of hands. The actions she'd taken had mirrored your own from only a week prior, a painful reminder to the low you now found yourself within. She stumbled backward, helplessly flailing arms as she fought against your increased strength, but falling through the door to forest floor below. Lurching forward, your teeth had finally pierced the thick of her neck, face set against shoulder as she let out a weak cry.

Hunger. Within your core, echoing through your mind and body. Nothing but the desire to eat, and unwillingness to stop now the feast had begun. As you swallowed back blood, a snarl between swallows, you felt hands on your collar to follow with a sharp pull backwards. Your thirst had yet to be quenched before you'd been laying on your back, only feet away from the unconscious body. Heavy breaths, racing thoughts, you felt close to losing yourself. Her blood hadn't satisfied you yet, the curse within you begging to lunge back and drain every remnant. 

But, there was still an aching hole her blood could not fill. Something about her hadn't been fulfilling enough, incomparable to the juices Choso had offered from neck. Such a sweet taste, thick and coating your throat - there had been a clear superiority. Was this the effect of pure-blood? Within you, a switch flickered, a need for more. Would you have to kill a hundred men to search for this taste one more time? 

Through flurry of emotion, your name had been called, red eyes finally lifting from the unknown's bloodied neck to face the figure that had pulled you from her body. 

Choso.

Mouth dropping open, overtaken with need, you pushed yourself from the ground to dart toward him. Hands had hit against hard chest, and through taking him by surprise, you'd succeeded in tackling him. Just as you pressed your palms to his bicep, teeth grazing neck in preparation to taste his lineage once more, his arms had broken free from your vice and flipped to thrash you against leaf covered mud. Choso had found dominance, holding your limbs roughly against the dirt to leave you paralyzed.

"Stop." He'd uttered the words through annoyed countenance, but you continued to try beneath him, baring teeth. "Stop!" Louder now, a hypnotizing pulse pulled you from frenzied state, eyes softening and body halting. You relaxed, chest heaving with consequence to unhinged breaths. Choso's grip loosened as he sat up, ungracefully stumbling from you to instead hurry his attention to the woman you'd left injured. 

Dread coursed through your chest, a wave of nausea filling your stomach as you jolted upward. The meal previously scavenged from an innocent was regurgitated onto the floor, thick crimson falling from your mouth with deep heaves. Tears welled in your eyes as what had been tunnel-vision had lifted, the gravity of an intense situation setting in. It had been difficult to lift your gaze from the bloodied grass below, but you forced yourself to, watching as Choso had a hand placed over the innocent's head, eyes closed.

Surrounding him shone a white aura, chills cascading over your body in waves as you watched the pureness surround him. It felt as if you'd looked into his soul, an angelic song murmured into ears spoken by divine energy. Sound waves tickled your brain, eyes glossing over in awe. His eyes opened, blackness within them a contrast to what had felt to be heavenly divination blessing the unconscious body before him. 

No words had left his lips as he pushed himself upward, no longer kneeling but instead coming toward you. As he moved, the aura lifted, reality set over the world. Colours that had been bleached by transfixed mind had faded back to the normal greens and browns of woodland. He came toward you in anger, balled fists only uncurling to reach at your collar, heavy footsteps dragging you to the other side of mangled brick. Only when behind the house had he spoken, but not before a harsh shove to the brick exterior. Upon impact, a cloud of dust gushed from weak foundation.

"What the fuck was that?" His tone hadn't been the same soft comfort you'd remembered, instead a deep hatred echoing through eardrum. You looked toward him wide eyed, the overpowering demonic presence within the colorless eyes feeding dread to core.  "I lost control, I don't-" Stuttered words as you'd attempted to formulate a sentence, a panic setting over you. It felt hard to speak to a deity that had felt so strong. 

"You're lucky I was here, or you'd have exposed us all." He loosened his grip on your shirt, taking a step rearwards. The stinging from your back had eased as you'd no longer been plush to hard brick, stumbling on feet. You were weak, the blood consumed from intense hunger now vacated from your body. Back to square one. 

"I'm sorry." Your head was bowed, shoulders tense, but Choso could see your expression clearly. Regret, fear. He hadn't needed to use the powers imbued in him to read your thoughts because you displayed them clearer than day. "Is she okay?" The words uttered had caused Choso to sigh, a clear indication your intentions hadn't been from selfishness, but rather lack of control. His anger subsided as he watched you cry over the woman harmed, and felt a pull to aid you in self control. Though he hadn't trained a cursed-being before, he'd understood your confusion - he'd wanted to help. 

"I changed her memories. She's fine." Flashes of the white aura came to mind as you thought back to his palm resting over her head. Had this been the power he'd used? 

"Are you-" Looking to his eyes, you were met with the purple orbs you'd remembered when first meeting, the same eyes you brought to watch when attempting to ease hunger. There was solace in those eyes. Tired, yet soft, relief from the outer world radiating from him as if luring you in. "Are you a pure-blood?"

An exhale of amusement as his gaze dropped down, gliding over your feet. He folded an arm over the other. "You could say that. I'm a descendant of Lilith, the first curse."  "That's why your eyes are black?"  Choso nodded, painted nail grazing over the loose fitted sweater hanging from shoulders. "The Kamo carry Lilith's blood." He paused, finally lifting his sight from the autumn leaves to your apologetic gaze. "How did you know?" 

A finger raised, you pointed to the brick behind you, a glance to broken windows before explaining. "A book, in there. There were drawings, ones of eyes that looked like yours, but-" Sighing, you pushed past anxiousness as you continued. "It said cursed-being don't share blood." Once finished, you refused to look toward him. Instead, you watched the trees surrounding you, tall and looming. Although ivy had  covered the walls of the building beside you, it hadn't kissed the earth beneath or wildlife surrounding, as if protected by mother nature.

"We don't." Choso spoke with an authoritative tone. "But, you would've died if I hadn't, so just be thankful." Defensiveness hadn't been something Choso was used to, nor had scolding others. To be truthful, he hadn't strayed from the few friends he'd had, in a life he'd rather not live. Had saving you truly been a mercy? After-all, he'd not wanted the life gifted to him.

"Thank you." The words from your lips had caused his brooding expression to contort to curiosity. The hairs on his arms prickled as he surveyed your face. 

"I can end it now, if that would be easier for you." Purple orbs watched you through a sympathetic gaze. "Your life left you when you drank from me. The moments that lie ahead are filled with pain, and suffering. This curse is unbreakable, the hunger insatiable." Choso wanted to show mercy, to undo actions he wished he hadn't chosen to take. You could stop now, if you so wished.

"I'll learn." 

Head bobbing in acceptance, his cold chest tightened. Choso had led the same routine for decades, surrounded by the same faces, continuing the facade of humanity while allowing creatures below his status to feed. A new cursed-being drinking from the blood of Lilith had been a rarity in this world - you were the first to pierce his skin. The act of sharing hadn't been something he'd considered before he looked into your helpless expression, the inner fight between hunger and humanity. Though, on remembering the flow of that night, feeling another's fangs within his neck, venom coursing through his own stream and the hypnotizing suckling as you'd fed from him... he felt he couldn't lead the same lift again.

Your stomach growled with emptiness; a noise you'd began to hear more often. A sound that had been an ignition for Choso, twinge in his stomach and anxiety bubbling through a butterfly feeling he hadn't experienced since childhood. "You're hungry." His words had been more statement than question, and you'd shifted uncomfortably on your feet. Feeling exposed, you shied away, yet he had only stepped toward you with hand outstretched. 

"You can drink from me, but this will be the last time." Choso felt a semblance of sorrow from those words, a desire to have you drain his entire being.

Although you'd wanted to decline the offer, to demonstrate a pretense of self-control, your feet moved forward without the consent of your mind. The curse within you ached in it's own right when hungry, mouth watering, lungs empty. Looking to his wrist, you'd approached him through desperation, yet the lust within his being had reminded him that the neck had felt so much better, especially when you'd been wrapped around his pretty cock.

Fallen leaves padded his legs, the tall bark of tree supporting his back and open arms as he gestured you to straddle him. You'd obliged, sitting upon his lap with thighs caging his, much like the night you hadn't wished to forget. A hiss had escaped parted lips when your teeth offered relief to the meat of his shoulder, a groan to compliment the honey oozing from jugular. Lapping over the skin, you sucked the thick, pouring gore, the high returning to kiss your being. Choso's blood made your body warm, head dizzy. If he wouldn't stop you, you'd drink for eternity.

His fingers brushed your neck, moving hair to the side. Pausing meal, you withdrew from his skin to tilt head to the side and welcome his bite. Sharp fangs had grazed flesh before puncturing, hum from lips when you felt your essence flow from you. His tongue dragged the length of your neck, open mouthed kisses running from your jaw. When his teeth dragged across skin, a strained moan had escaped lips, Choso grazing the spot beneath lobe, tongue swiping to cheek. Turning face to his, Choso adamantly pressed his lips to yous. Sloppy, animal-like kisses had been shared between you, teeth clashing and tongues sliding for a taste of the other. Hints of your blood had been coating his lips, and his on yours, arousal pooling.

Choso took your lips between his teeth, a harsh bite to draw blood. You mirrored this action to his own lips, deep and passionate kisses now decorated in iron twang, a mesmerizing flow between two beings. With one hand holding head in place, the other groped your body, sliding over the small of your back to squeeze over ass, humming as his forceful grab had left him wanting more. 

Your back met with the dried mud and forest's debris, Choso's fingers hooking through the waistband of your trousers to pull them aggressively to ankle. His eyes were black, teeth sharp with an intense wraith radiating from his presence. This must have been the aura of Lilith's descendants, that of power, control. Looking to him had felt as if you were looking to a God, though with the curse demonizing him, it had been evident these creatures would be nothing more than false-Gods. Demons. 

Choso ducked to seat his face between your legs, tongue gliding over folds to coax a whine from parted lips. The sudden movement had you to stirring beneath him, legs threatening to close. This had provoked Choso's hands to meet thigh, pressing legs to open wide. He lapped a stripe once more, before circling over the bud he'd craved, whines falling to appraise him. Breaths heavy, you bucked upward, finding a pace that transfixed both you and him. Your moans were captivating and spurred him on to continue, though the ache imprisoned by his trousers wouldn't be ignored much longer. 

 His hums vibrated over your core, back arching from forest floor as the throbbing in your abdomen had built itself much deeper, desperate grinds against the mouth that pleased you.  "C-choso..." His name from your lips had been enchanting, an ethereal goddess charming his very being. Your fingers found their way to lace within black locks, tugging to the base of his skull, pulling him closer. He'd felt unable to breathe as you held him in place, yet continued on in bliss. His short pants had fanned against you, sharp breaths inward forcing him to inhale more of your scent. 

The coil snapped, a wail and cry from lips as he continued to massage your folds with his tongue. Choso lapped at the slippery juices, groaning and swallowing back as much as he'd been able. When your whimpers grew quiet and your high fizzled out, Choso's teeth sunk into the fat of your inner thigh, large hands holding the limb in place as he tasted more of you. 

His cheek pressed to your leg as he peered up at your disheveled state, chest rising and falling at rapid pace. When shifting, the tightness in his pants had grazed the forest floor, hips rolling as a shaking breath left his lips. Choso needed you, now. 

Lining up to the dripping hole he pushed himself in, moaning at the sensation of your walls finally hugging him again, a warmth on cold skin. Since that first encounter, he'd tugged fist over himself, tightening hand in attempts to mimic how your insides had felt, yet he had always been left disappointed. To have you again, now, was as if he'd been blessed. He withdrew his appendage only to push it back in once more, red lip leaking and sensitive as he'd felt overwhelmed in pleasure. 

With arms caging you beneath him, wrists grazing cheek, you tilted head to the side and bit into cartilage, a guttural groan spilling from his chest in excitement. Curses spewed from his lips as he felt his essence transferred to your being, cock twitching. His gaze dropped to watch himself disappear into you, thick base larger than he'd seen before - though he'd been sure this was due to pure arousal and lust. He considered the chance of you being his soulmate with how his body had felt against yours, two flames as one. A white ring around the base had demonstrated your pleasure and reminded him of the mules created with the movement of his mouth to your cunt, and Choso found himself pulling backward to kneel, pummeling cock and using the pad of thumb to massage just above. 

Your back arched from the floor, eyes rolling to display only whites. You'd still been sensitive from the encounter before, reacting immediately to the contact his digit gave to you.   "F-fuck, Choso, I can't-" The sensitivity had you gasping, each roll of hips to yours more intense than the last, a folding within the muscles of your stomach.  "Take it, one more." Uttered quietly the instruction rang in your ears, hands grabbing at the soil yet finding solace in nothing. The moans from your lips had been much louder now, but within the bubble you'd felt yourself within, you felt confident Choso would be the only creature to hear desperate screams. 

Once more, you lost control, blood stained mouth opening wide and muscles tightening, a flood of fluids coating Choso as he coaxed you through your climax. Several 'good girl's muttered inaudibly between thrusts, a squeeze over his cock. He leaned forward, face buried in your neck as he inhaled your scent deeply, unable to hold back as he bit into skin for a final time before his own end. 

Your nails dug into the skin of his back beneath the shirt he'd still worn, thick and toned muscle beneath your palms. Dragging fingers down, you'd created eight burning lines from shoulder to hip as your body had been pummeled to the dirt below, though as Choso grunted and groaned, it had clearly encouraged him more. 

His body his the amber leaves, laying with eyes closed, chest heaving. A comfortable silence had remained among nature, only ambiance of breaths and bird song. As one creature had called out, another had mirrored the mellow music from it's own beak, allowing the melody reprise.

"I think," You spoke quietly into the air. "Your brother knows about us." You watched the sky above the canopy, deep blue peeking through twisted branches.  "Yuji? Hm." Choso's mind had been elsewhere, yet your voice had brought him to think of family, and the repercussions of the actions the pair of you'd seemed unable to falter. "Megumi said Yuji had been able to smell my blood when you came home - can you differentiate smells?" A leaf twiddled between fingers.

"Yeah, sometimes. Your scent is stronger than most - it's sweeter. Tastes good, too." The compliment had your cheeks burning, a flutter within your chest.  "Yours is intoxicating." With your praise, it had been Choso's turn to heat up.  "Lilith's descendants taste different. We have the purest form of the curse; we pull others to us like magnets. But, it's all a facade. It's a hunting mechanism, to draw innocents to our clutches, and to manipulate those turned by our kind." The consistent hum of his voice had lulled you.

"Do you dislike your species?" Choso thought for a few moments as he watched the same patch of sky.  "Partially - but it's not our fault. It's Kenjaku's." A fledgling flew from one branch to another. " He experimented on Lilith, he cursed her and her children. We were born of wombs tortured by him, yet we have to live with the consequences from God."  

His childhood had been unpleasant. Memories of torture, pain and suffering had come to fruition, but he'd learned to push them back. Kenjaku had been a name he'd not wanted to speak, but with you, he'd felt inclined to pass on the truth.

"Could you teach me more?" Your request was hushed through fear of rejection. He pondered.  "Hm? About what?"  "How to live like this, the history... everything."  "Why?" He hadn't considered himself an airhead, though he couldn't find himself understanding the request. So much horror had surrounded that of cursed-beings, betrayal, sorrow. He hadn't been able to fathom why you wouldn't accept the naivete and ignorance as a gift.  "This is my life now." Turning to your side, you glanced over the expressionless face beside you. Purple eyes glowed in the dying light of day, pale skin decorated in shadows cast by the trees above. He considered your request, beginning where it had all started.

"We could start with home, I guess." Choso spoke, and you'd pictured the house from your childhood, full of questions and wonder. It felt as if fate had called to you all those years ago, the draw to know what had been awaiting beyond brick and mortar. Though, perhaps the pull had been towards something else; someone. The being beside you had felt like home, after-all. 

a/n: thank you so much if you read this far ! this fic took me 5 days to write, so i really hope it came out okay :,)

let me know if you guys want a part 2, there's a few ideas in my head honestly but i'm not sure how popular choso is and if people would even like that

but honestly i really put a lot into this so im nervous for what people are gonna say :')

also fun fact, just before writing this i finished evangelion and the Lilith idea is totally based off Lilith in evangelion lol

rbs and comments are really appreciated <3

tags: @suget @woozzz @goblinbabyy @iwassuna @iisuzuus @osamusriceballz @p-3-4-c-h  @hakkaisgf @athyinherblues @maxi8898 @d0riannn @sanriocandies @akalisuguru @tiredjuniper @sugar-locket @nycvalntyne @anubisisthebomb

[daddy-suguru]

𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧

anonymous asked a question!

ghostface!toji comes into your bedroom every night to watch you sleep. One night you try to grab his mask off of his face while he thinks you are still sleeping and you end up with your arms pinned and his big hand around your throat instead 🥵

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 ⇝ Toji has been stalking you unaware you’ve been watching him through the small cameras hidden around your house. And after two months when you wake up in the middle of the night you try to take his mask off. Only to get yourself pinned to the bed.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ❥ dark explicit, masochist!reader, obsessed!pervert!ghostface!toji, stalking - reader is aware - but toji doesn’t know at first, jerking off to you sleeping, choking, reader has hidden cameras around their place, recorded sex, knife/blood kink, virgin/sex dumb - reader knows basic parts but hasn’t been horny before nor knows how to fuck, bondage with belts, begging, blindfolded, cocksucking, knife kink, name carving, toji has a blood kink, biting, pussy slapping, light throat fucking and smothering you with his balls, anal with little prep/wrong hole, face slapping, spanking, degradation/prasie/ humiliation, toji is mean for your first time and doesn’t care, mirror sex, caught touching themselves - reader, squirting, hint at a second round

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ❥ 8.5k - 30min read time

It started off with little things, footprints of large shoes imprinted into the dirt outside your window, the unsettling feeling of eyes on the back of your neck. The random creaks of the floor while they walked around your house. But the damning piece of evidence is catching him on the cameras you have hidden around your house.

You should go to the police station and turn him in. But the fascination you have for the Ghostface killer stalking you along with the streets of your town stops you. And a part of you feels like maybe you should for guilty, for being willing to harbor a killer who doesn’t know you are aware of their late-night usage of your house. Yet the emotion never arises.

The guilt should be there chewing at your gut along with the fear at someone living in your house. But you can’t find it in yourself to panic when you find out that he watches you sleep for an hour every night. His large figure barely moving while standing by your bedside.

Instead, all there is inside of you is a building lingering obsession. Causing you to look into and consume every piece of media about the Ghostface killer. While you watch what your cameras catch of him over and over.

He fills your thoughts every single waking second.

At first, you thought he watched you sleep to make sure you were deep asleep. So he can move freely around your room. But then one night with your dirty panties in hand, he unzipped his pants. Pulling out the part of a man you’ve never seen before. Before using some of the lotion you left on your side table.

Slipping his gloves off before wrapping his hand around his cock, and slowly slides his hand down. And with its length and thickness, the tip of his cock is dangling by the time he reaches the base of himself. Something you’ve never been able to get over, for reasons you can’t understand.

One camera hidden in the eye of your stuffed teddy bear on the side table gives you a full and clear view of him. While he wraps your panties around the head of his cock.

Holding your bunched-up panties over his cock head while he strokes himself with his other hand. You hadn’t seen those panties since. And the thought that he carries them around lingers in your mind.

You don’t understand why the very thought of his heavy cock and his obsession with you fills your mind. While making pussy warm and wet in a way it’s never been before. Leading to a lingering frustration. Which leaves you wanting to confront him about the weird feelings he stirred up within you.

Despite the main reason of he could kill you, telling you otherwise. The same reasoning doesn’t appear in your sleeping frustrated mind. When you woke up in the middle of the night when you woke up in the middle of the night. But instead of pretending to be asleep, you sit up quickly.

Reaching out for his mask, only for him to grab your wrist pinning it above your head. His other hand goes to your throat, crushing your throat crushing your airflow. While he straddles your body.

Ghostface says to you, “Too bad you didn’t lay there till you fell back to sleep. What? You thought I wouldn’t notice when you woke up in the middle of the night. Your little night light makes it so easy to tell.” His heavy gritty voice sounding bettering than it should.

Freeing your other hand out from under the blanket. And reaching for his mask again. Only for him to let go of your throat to pin your hand. While you softly gasp, focusing on catching your breath before saying,

“Killing me would make it harder for you to hide out long term like you have been doing the past two months.” It is a last resort to see if he would spare you life.

There is a pause, and the room becomes uncomfortably quiet. While he hovers over you, his breath would hit your face if not for his mask. You can make out very faint pink stains from the blood that didn’t come out all the way.

His voice comes out low and slow, “You know?” You can hear a grin in his voice when he quickly follows the previous question with another one. “How much do you know?” Your mind quickly goes to the various times he has stolen your underwear and used it to touch himself.

You try rubbing your hands over your body, but nothing came of it. And you want to know why he loves touching himself so much. That thought comes to you while you tell Ghostface,

“I have small cameras hidden around my place. I’ve seen everything, from you watching me sleep, to stealing my favorite panties, to touching that part of yourself. To that time you frantically cleaned blood off my sofa.” His grasp on your wrists tightens, and there is a sharp tingling pain that shoots down your arms.

A soft sound passes your lips before you quickly bite into your bottom lip to muffle it. You had never made a sound like that before; it didn’t sound like a pained cry but a soft moan.

Tilting his head to the side Ghostface asks you, “Oh baby, enjoying feeling restrained? You have a basement, I could tie you up, strip you naked, and have you standing in the middle of the room. With your arms above your head so I can play with your soft body however I want. Too bad I don’t feel like going back out into the dark snowy night just go around to the side of your house.” He slips your hand into his other fist, pinning both your wrists with his large palm.

Picking up the knife he left on your side table. He presses the tip underneath your chin. While he says, “Yeah your guilty now. If anyone finds out about your willingness to harbor me, you’ll go to jail too.” He slowly drags the knife down your throat and you can’t help but whine.

He then says, “You can’t be reaching for my mask. But I’ll keep you around, you can get us food. And me some clothes. We could also fuck around if you want to.” The coolness of the hard blade gives you goosebumps. While a soft tingle that goes straight between your legs.

Adding to the wet warmth and quickly sparking the former frustration. Causing you to ask him slowly, “Tell me why I always get so wet and warm between my legs when I see you on my camera?” The tip of his knife reaches between your collarbones. And your breath hitches.

He lifts his knife in the air, the soft golden glow of your wax burner you use for a nightlight glinting off the blade. And he quickly brings the knife down, plunging it into your side table, sticking it in deep into the hard wood.

You gulp looking over at the knife sticking up right. While you think about the thickness of his arm underneath the dark bagging sleeve of his outfit.

Glancing back up at his mask, staring into the dark eyeholes. Waiting for his neck action. While missing the way the knife felt as it dragged along your skin.

He loosens his grip on your wrists enough to let the blood flow back your hands. While he says, “For the same reason I stole your panties, your horny. And next time I’m cumming on your face and not cleaning it up.” He grabs your phone off the side table. While you softly ask,

“Cum?” Trying to get him to explain a little more. But he says,

“Fuck you really are a sex dumb virgin aren’t you? I mean I never saw you show interest in anyone. And all flirting your co-worker does goes straight over your head.” You whine your cheeks burning while you shift underneath him.

You tell him, “It’s my birthday-.” Before you could finish the phone clicked open. And he goes through your phone, which sparks him asking you two questions,

“You saved the videos of me jerking off? How many times do you watch it?” Looking aside while he placing your phone down and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. While you mumble,

“Almost every other day.” That was a lie, you saw it a video day, and part of you questioned why you are so mesmerized by it. There would be days you watched two different ones in a day.

Buying your answer and asking you, “What do you do when you watch it?” Other than press your thighs together. You just stared at the video.

Telling him, “Nothing. It just makes me wetter….it’s getting frustrating more so after I’m done watching the video.“ He places his rough thumb on your bottom lip. Slowly he drags his thumb along the curve of your bottom lip. While he coos,

"Poor little slutty virgin.” Like he is taking pity on you. And the problem you’ve told him about. That you so desperately wish he could help you with. Since you blame him, you whine,

“You’re the one who makes me feel so warm and wet. I was perfectly fine before you came along. Doing weird stuff with my panties and watching me sleep.” The texture of his glove is smoother than you thought it would be. You try to ignore how badly you wish he would never stop touching you.

He sounds like he is mocking you when he says right after, “Getting yourself hot and bothered without knowing how to take care of yourself. Do you want me to fix that problem for you?” You nod and beg,

“Please! Please while you’re living here with me instead of my panties, you can use me. I’ll be a good little slut after you take my virginity.” He keeps calling you a slutty little virgin. And while you didn’t know everything that is a slut entailed you wanted to be one for him. If it meant that you got him to touch you more.

He moves his hand from your and places it next to your head, propping himself up. While he asks, “Do you hear yourself? The filthy things coming out of your mouth. Your so fucking pent up and horny that is making you take like a whore already. Keep talking like that, telling me every filthy thing that passes your little head. Then I’ll keep you.”

Letting go of your wrists and telling you, “Move and I’ll cut you.” You keep your wrists together above your head. While he spreads your legs, before grabbing your white nightgown and bunching it up around your hips.

The cool air on your damp panties gives you goosebumps. And when he leans forward any sense of cold is gone as heat flushes throughout your body. Because of his mask so close to your white panties.

He says, “Fine I’ll keep you, but since you know I’m living in your house, that means I’m making myself more comfortable. And because you have already seen my cock several times. It’s fair I get to see how wet I make you, right?” You nod. But it isn’t good enough, he doesn’t move. Until you plead with him,

“Please look at how wet I am. Want to feel your glove between my legs. And I want to be full, I don’t know what with but I have a wet hole between my legs I want filled up so badly it hurts.” He rubs your soft pussy through your panties. And when he reaches the top, rubbing your clit there is this intense pleasure that jolts throughout your body.

He lets out a groan, "Your pathetic virgin pussy soaked through your panties while I had you pinned.” The way he said his taunts almost came across as a reward. Why else would you want to hear him call your pussy pathetic while you drool through your panties, craving something you know nothing about?

Your mind drifts back to all the videos causing you to ask, “Do I get to see your cock up close since you have your face in my pussy?” Biting into your lip as he sits up and stares down at you.

He asks, “You want an up-close look?” Wanting to hear you ask for his cock some more while he stops on your clit. Rubbing small circles through your panties into your puffy nub. While your toes curl from the pleasure and your pussy spasms.

You whine, "Please! Please ghost face while you’re living instead of using my panties you can…” you trail off your cheeks burning, “play with me instead?”

He grabs the dark handle of his large knife, pulling out of the wood he stuck it into. And you want to lift your head to watch when you feel the tip of it press your navel, just above the lace of your panties.

Slowly dragging the tip along the hip, along to your hip. While you fight the natural urge to jerk your hips away. There is a soft tingling pleasure that comes from cool blade running along your skin surprised you.

Slipping the flat of the knife underneath the lace strip of your panties and slicing it. And after cutting the other side, he slowly peels the panties off your soft pussy. The soft low whistle he makes before he says,

"Your wet pussy doesn’t want to let your panties go. Now if you want me to touch you be a good girl for me. Tell me did you like me cutting your panties off?” You nod, while he places the cool flat of the blade on your clit.

Your breath hitches while he snaps, “Use your words. Does my knife feel good against your slutty virgin pussy?” How did he expect you to speak when he is doing depraved things to your pussy? With his face so close to your dripping wetness.

Softly whining, “Yes, Ghostface.” Not knowing what else to call him. And when he stands up walking towards your open bedroom door you add,

“Please don’t leave me like this. I like the way your knife feels on my skin, it’s confusing why it feels so good. Please Ghostface, play with your slutty virgin pussy.” He grabs four belts that you have over the top of your bedroom door. Before turning back to face you and telling you,

“You really want me, don’t you? I wonder if every time you make this cute frustrated face,“ he points at you, and then points at your phone, "at your phone because you are watching me jerk my cock off. Wishing that you were the one getting my dick instead of my fist.” placing three of the belts on the bed between your parted legs. He ties one belt around your ankle, before tying the other side to the stick of the bedpost.

You say, “I want your cock so badly and I don’t even know why please teach me how to be a good slut for you.” He grabs another belt, tying your other ankle up with it. While he says,

“You’re going to call me Toji. from here on out.” All the times he wanted to help you undress after you got back from your shift at the dinner. Which is at most a fifteen-minute walk from your house should you not cut through the park.

Grabbing onto your dress and ripping it in two. Earning a loud gasp as the fabric rips all the way up between your breasts. And just as you are about to ask Toji what he did that for, he rips a shred of the fabric off.

Folding it up and climbing back onto the bed. Where he grabs the two belts between your legs and puts them next to your face. Before he wraps the folded-up fabric around your eyes, he tells you,

"Rule number one, no trying to steal peaks at my face. Rule number two, your pussy is mine and anyone who you let get too close between your legs is getting stuffed underneath your floorboards, dead or alive. Doesn’t matter to me. What does matter is you don’t let anyone else touch my pretty pussy.”

You want to whine and protest being blindfolded since you want to see him in real life. And not just your phone screen. But you bite back the complaints and say,

“This pussy is all yours, no one else makes your pussy as wet and warm as you do.” You don’t think your face could get any warmer.

Toji knows he is drawing this out having you beg and plead for him to touch you. But after finding out that you’ve happily let him stay here the past two months. While he thought you did not know, watching you, while you watched him.

Every single time he jerked off to the sight of your pretty face, you saved the video the next morning onto your phone. Could you not see that you had the rare chance of saving yourself from his obsession?

You could have turned him in and been done with him. Yet you left a spare key by the back door, leaving only a small low light on next to the ground. There were always blankets, and a pillow left behind neatly folded up on the sofa. Which made it easier for him to return it to its original position so it looked like he hadn’t slept on your sofa. You had been doing little things intentionally to make it easier for him to sleep there.

His mask recently got leaked onto the news. So you must know of the manhunt the cops are leading for him. And that your town is very aware of him stalking the streets. Yet you withheld the information that he had been living at your house.

Toji hadn’t been able to stay in one house; he picked to hide out in this long before he found out. So he should have picked up that something was up.

He says, “Based on the video the bedroom camera is in this teddy bear. And the other video angle comes from,” he pauses while he turns on your overhead light and looks up at your vanity. Where he catches the black glimpse of a small camera lens watching through the decorative wooden work at the top of the vanity.

He finishes by saying, “There it is.” He makes quick work tying your wrists to the large wooden pegs of the headboard. And then he stands up, smirking to himself. While he painfully throbs inside his jeans. Which are far too tight for him now.

Seeking relief and wanting to give you a show to watch when he isn’t home. Toji turns towards the teddy bear. Which stares at him with dark beady eyes, with its round cheeks and double chin.

Glancing down at your blindfolded and bound body, spread out. With your nightgown barely clinging to your body and no longer hiding anything from him. He feels some pre-cum seep into his boxers. Which he can now add to your dirty clothes to have you wash instead of stealing some money to go to the laundry mat when is mostly empty.

Slipping of his cloak and dripping it into the floor. Leaving him in his dark short sleeve shirt and dark jeans. Which he unbuttons as he grabs the teddy bear by its gut and points its face at you. So you can see what you look like when you watch this video over later.

Setting the teddy bear on the edge of your side table. Before unzipping his pants slowly, letting out a heavy sigh at the relief. Slowly pushing his pants down and keeping his boxers on. Which hug his cock and balls, giving you a flawless imprint that shows even the slopping head of his cock in great detail.

Cupping his ball and softly messaging them while letting out a heavy groan. While you whine next to him, he chuckles softly before telling you, “Don’t worry after I make you cum for the first time, you’ll get to see my cock.”

Hearing you ask, “How are you going to make me cum?” Makes his cock jerk, the sweet sound of your voice. He adored it, it was one reason he kept you alive after he helped himself to live in your house.

You pleaded for him to use you, even though you don’t know that he wants to cut you up, cover you in handprint-shaped bruises and fill you full of cum. He wants to put his name on your lower back.

“I’m going to block your cameras take my mask off and put my face between your legs. Then I’m going to suck on your clit till your gush on my face.” He should take the time to stretch you out by fucking his fingers into you until you can take at least three of his fingers.

“I want to know how you taste, I want to see you shake while you tell me it’s too much for you to handle. I’m going to need you to say marshmallow if you want to stop. Then I’ll clean you up and your ass is going back to sleep. While I shower and raid your kitchen for food.” He grabs the teddy bear by the neck again, bringing the camera close while he slips his boxers down.

Giving the camera a close-up view of his throbbing cock. He wants you to see every single puffy vein which runs down to his thick throbbing head. Which is getting pinker by the second. When Toji’s cock head slips out of his underwear, thick pre-cum creates small strings that quickly break when he pushes his underwear down his thick thighs.

It’s a pity that you aren’t losing your virginity to someone much more gentle than he plans to be. But the chance to feel how painfully tight your virgin pussy is too good to pass up. You would slowly get used to him while he fucks himself into you, anyway.

You’re quiet, perhaps taking in everything that is happening. So he gives you a moment. While he cups his balls, massaging them while letting out a heavy groan. And then your moment to think is over as he gets on the bed.

Angling the camera towards your face while he straddles your head. Letting go of his cupped balls, covering the bottom half of your face. You made a soft sound that is muffled by his balls. He lays his cock on your face.

“When you watch this video, I want you to rub your clit with your fingers. And if you can’t make yourself cum, then ask me. And I’ll tell you how to play with yourself, for when I’m not here.” He re-arranges himself, straddling your shoulders. His balls hanging on your neck. While he touches the tip of his cock to your lips.

After nights of jerking off to the thought of your soft lips wrapping around him Toji needs to feel our wet mouth wrapping around him. Make sure that the camera has a good view of his cock resting on your lips.

Telling you, “Open your mouth and keep it open, relax your throat. So I feel my cock since you can’t see it.” You open your mouth and when he thrusts his cock past your lips deep into your throat. His heavy, low hanging balls hitting your chin.

The pace he sets is shallow and quick. While his fat cock forced your mouth open wider than opened up for. He says, “No teeth or I’m stopping completely. Let your lips go over your teeth, and suck in your sweet cheeks.” Your cheeks hallow while you groan, his cock muffling the sound.

Your throat squeezes his cock as you gag when he tries to push half of his long cock into your mouth. While the angle your laying at keeps his cock from going deep into your throat.

He pulls his cock out and asks, “What’s your safe word?” The fact you know just how fucked up he is but want him anyway is making this more enjoyable. Since he doesn’t have to hide a thing with you, in fact, he has a chance at having a home with you. One that was warm with your soft, loving embrace, sparkling eyes, gentle smile, and warm pussy would wait for him.

You breathe out, “Marshmallows,” then quickly beg, “but please don’t stop I can be a good slut for you. Please make me your slut.” Toji pulls away, getting off the bed while you whine,

“Please no, I want your fat cock in my throat. I can handle it please Toji.” You pull at the belts that bind you to the bed, keeping you in a starfish on the bed.

He grabs his cloak off the floor and quickly blocks the camera. Before he pulls his mask off his face and takes a deep breath. Which he sets on the vanity before turning to look at you.

The view of your parted legs showing him your dripping wet pussy just waiting for him to use as he wished. He doesn’t want to wait any longer, climbing into the bed.

Settling between your legs and laying down. He bites down on your left thigh and slaps your pussy making you cry. While you try to jerk your legs shut out of reflex. Causing the belts to pull on your bedframe, as it rubs your skin.

Toji says, “That’s it, cry louder, I want to hear every single whine and moan.” And he slaps your pussy again, the wetness smearing on his fingers. You jerk your hips away, pressing them into the bed.

Opening his mouth wide so he can fit your whole pussy in his mouth. Moaning as he does, dragging his tongue up along your slit. He stops at your pussy hole as it clenches. And it takes every part of him not to push his tongue inside.

Sliding his tongue up to your clit. And pressing his tongue flat against your sensitive bud. While you roll your hips, instantly forgetting that he told you to keep still. And for the moment as you get your first taste of pleasure he doesn’t stop to remind you, just yet.

You taste so sweet, the taste of your wetness coating his tongue. And causing him to run his tongue down your slit. Lingering at your clenching pussy while you try to push your hips down. And ask,

“Is it weird to want something inside there?” He pulls away and slaps your pussy before rubbing your lips and clit with his large palm. While he responds with a question,

“Where do you think I’m going to stuff my cock?” He swirls the tips of his fat fingers, but doesn’t push them past your lips. Feeling you clench as if begging for him to slip one fingers past your dripping wet lips.

Already there is a small wet spot underneath you. While your juices drip down your asshole and onto your bedsheets. He smirks at how wet you are getting from the little he has done.

He says, “I should prep you for the thickness of my cock but I want to feel the tightness of your virgin pussy as I stretch it out for the first time. It’s going to hurt but you’re going to be a good girl and beg for it anyway aren’t you?” He dips his head down and flicks your clit with his tongue. While you whimper,

“Toji your mouth is on my nnng you’re so nmmnhhplease tooooji.” You can’t even string together a proper sentence the moment his tongue touches your clit.

Adding more pressure on your puffy clit with his tongue while you grind your hips against his tongue. Only for him to grab your hips, digging his nails in and smearing some of your wetness on you. While you try your best to be still.

Soft trembles run down your legs, as you moan, “Mmnngh there is a pressure ahhnn!” Jerking your hips up causing Toji to pull away as you plead,

“Please don’t stop, I need your warm tongue on my pussy.” Toji wraps his hand around the handle of his knife. Digging the tip by your nipple while he asks,

“Does my dirty tied-up whore want to cum all over my face? Are you going to beg me for it? Tell me how much you need my tongue on your clit. And how I’m going to be the only one who eats out this dripping pussy.“ Dragging the knife and making a shallow cut near your nipple, your blood trickling out.

Making his breath hitch as he moves the knife away. While leaning down and opens his mouth up wide. Biting down on your breast and flicking your nipple with his tongue. He loudly groans while sinking his teeth in deeper, making you whine.

Whimpering to Toji, "I need you to cut me, tie me up, eat my pussy and stretch me out with your fat cock. I want to make you feel better than your hand and my panties do. Mmm please stuff your fat cock inside your virgin pussy.” With his teeth still sunken into your skin, Toji pulls away. While you arch your chest following his head.

Toji presses the tip of the knife to your side, dragging it down. Only piercing your skin as he got close to your hip, creating a long cut over your hip. And the soft cry that passes his lips has him wondering if you’re crying beneath the blindfold.

You ask him, “How does that feel good? You make me feel so funny, I don’t want it to stop.” The thought of your eyes filling up with tears while your pussy gets wetter from the pain making his cock twitch. He places the knife next to you on the bed and grabs your cut hip. Smearing the blood with his large hands while he tells you,

“What a disturbed slut you are, getting off on such filthy things. You look so fucking hot covered in blood. Fuck, you’re making a puddle and drenching your little asshole and I’m not even touching your pussy. Are you so pent up and desperate you are getting off on such sickening acts?” After easing you into taking his degradation for the praise he is taking it up.

You moan, “I’m so wet between my legs. Please I need more. Can I have more of…” You trail off not knowing what to ask for. Before you quickly add, “You, can I have more of you? I don’t care how you give it to me, I just need to feel you please Toji.”

Toji dips his head back down between your legs, he says, “I’m going to teach you every single dirty way to get both of us off. You are going to be the best slut I ever fucked. A slut made just to take my loads of cum.” Sucking your clit into his mouth and rubbing small circles into your puffy bundle of nerves.

The pressure is rapidly building between your legs. And it’s unlike anything else you’ve ever felt. It’s addictive and intense spreading throughout your body and making you shake and tremble. While weird sounds pass your lips.

Toji groans and the vibrations Sending you over the edge so quickly that your mind goes back while you let out a loud cry of, “TOJI PLESSSE!” And as he doesn’t stop the overwhelming pleasure making you try to jerk your hips away from Toji.

You wish you could see what his face looks like. But you would respect his wishes. And maybe one night he might trust you enough. Since he trusted. you enough to keep you alive and let you know a name he goes by.

The tips of his fingers swirl around the rim of your pussy. Never pushing past yet feeling the spasms that make you clench. While you whine,

“Need you inside me please can’t wait any longer.” He reaches over you and second later you feel the cool metal of his blade.

A sharp sting following as he cuts the top of your thigh. While he pulls away from your clit with a loud pop, and he bites down over the small shallow cute he made. As he places his thumb on your clit.

The roughness of his thumb on your overly sensitive clit causing you to whine, “Too much.” He let’s go of your thigh and says,

“That intense high you felt is how you know you just cummed. When your alone watching me jerk my cock I want you to rub your clit till you feel this good. But never strictly your fingers inside of yourself, that’s all for me to fill up. I’ll punish you if I found out you stuck your fingers or anything else inside my pussy.” He pulls his hand away from your pussy and you feel the knife hit the bed beside you.

There is some sound from the foot of your bed, the vanity creaks. And then seconds later he is taking your blindfold off. The bright light of your bedroom bounces off the whiteness of his mask making it harder to see with the blurriness that comes from just opening your eyes.

Just as you are about to say something he unties your wrists from the bed. Which ache from the leather of your belt rubbing them. He tells you, “You can move, and touch any part of me but my mask.” Wrapping your hand around his cock, feeling the softness of his skin in contrast to the hardness underneath.

Tracing your fingers along the thick vein that runs underneath his cock. You look up at Toji telling him, “If I can’t wrap my hand fully around your cock then I don’t think it’s going to fit.” He says,

“Don’t worry about that your pussy is more than wet enough. Once I untie your legs, I want you to be one on all fours with your ass in the air and your attention focused on your mirror. So you can see me fuck my cock into your slutty little pussy.” You let go of his cock, and he moves towards the bed of the bed.

Undoing the belts wrapping around your ankles, but leaving all four belts attached to the bed. While you close your legs and draw them in, rubbing your sore ankles. And looking at the cut on your hip. Which curves with the bent of your hip.

Toji asks, “What’s the safe word?” Getting on the bed behind you, he adds, “Or do you want to keep be nothing more than a set of holes for me to fuck my fat cock into till I dump my cum inside of you?” You move onto all fours, staring at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are wide, and Toji has blood smeared on your body. While there is a wet spot between your parted legs from where you cummed on Toji’s face.

Your body burns while you watch yourself beg, “Please stuff your cock into my pussy and take my virginity.” While he grabs his knife and gets up on his knees behind you. Cupping your left cheek with a heavy, gloved hand, he spreads your cheeks apart.

You glance up at the camera on top of your vanity which is catching all of this. While Toji drags the knife down on the far left side of your back. He says,

“You are going to be a good whore and stay still while I brand you as my personal slut. And carve my name into your lower back.” He drops his hand from your ass cheek and then you feel Toji’s thick, warm cock rubbing up and down your wet pussy lips.

Pushing your lips back, Toji doesn’t stop you as you try to take the tip of his fat cock. The intense tingling pain makes your nose curl and your back arch up, making the tip dig deeper. While you reflexively pull your hips away, unable to take even half of his cockhead.

He completes the T of his name and you say, “You’ll have to re-carve your name once it fades.” With his cock head between your puffy pussy lips, Toji lets himself go. And he grabs onto your hips. While he lifts the knife off your back, as he pulls your hips back and thrusts his hips forward.

The tip of his cock slips inside you. And you can’t stop the cry that passes your lips. Prompting Toji to ask you, “How bad does it hurt?” Your pussy tightens around him as if trying to crush him. While he uses. his strength to force his cock deep inside you.

Cutting off your reply of “A lot-NNNG!” With a loud whine as your breath picks up with the pounding of your heart. While fire hot pain fills your body as Toji’s thick cock stretches your pussy out.

The coolness of the blade becomes colder against your burning skin. As you Whine, “It hurts so good, it’s so confusing what you doing to my pussy. How does it hurt yet I don’t want it to stop?” He pulls away, till only his tip remains inside of you. And he pauses while your whimpers,

“Nng your thick cock is rubbing my insides and tugging on my pussy when you move like that.” He admires the way your lips look puffier wrapping around his cock. And the sight of himself vanishing inside you as he pushes his hips is so overwhelming he can barely keep his hand still while he carves the o of his name next to the large T.

Finishing the O, the sight of more blood covering your pretty skin makes his cock jerk. While he groans, “You’re getting wetter fucking! Keep clenching my fat cock with your pathetic pussy that only gets off on filthy, depraved fucking. Mmnn such a fucking whore crying for my cock. Don’t be confused just accept your purpose in life as a dumb cock sleeve.”

The way he looked in the mirror, naked behind you beside his mask. With its dark fabric covering his neck. While the longest hanging scrap hangs down between his thick man tits. Which if it wasn’t for you facing away from him you would run your hands over his chest. And covering him in kisses.

Moaning to Toji, “I can feel the way your cock curves inside of me nng!” He pauses with his cock deep inside of you while he carves the J and quickly follows it with the I. Before making a shallow cut between your shoulder blades. And then tossed the knife to the ground.

You feel his gloved finger press against your other hole. Opening your mouth but your words come out as a loud moan as he pushes his thick finger into your ass. While he leans down over your smaller body, pressing his large chest against your back.

Moving his hand on your hip up to your throat. Toji wraps his fingers around your neck, pressing the same sore ring he already made. He groans,

“My handprint around your throat will be like a collar showing those others your fucking taken. You are my personal cumdump, every single night you’re going to be a good slut and take my cock in any of your slutty tight holes. And you’re going to thank me for the chance to be a good whore for me aren’t you?” You can’t answer while he tightens his grasp on your throat. While he fucks his thick cock into you at a fast and rough pace.

Toji’s heavy cock head hits the back of your pussy roughly as if he is trying to push deeper. And you swear he is trying to push deeper into your gut, which you can feel bulge and protrude when his hips hit yours.

Groaning loudly with his head over your shoulder, his body large enough that it’s covering yours. Making you feel so small beneath him, while he holds onto your hips. And curls his finger inside your other hole, pushing your wetness deep inside of your ass.

He asks, “Are you about to cry from me spitting your stupid little pussy open?” When he sees the tear building in your eyes. And when he lets go of your throat the way you let out a strained cry has Toji saying,

“Mmm I hope it’s too damn for your tiny slutty pussy to handle.” He leans back, looking down at your burning back. Where the cuts give you a satisfying sting that makes your pussy throb around Toji.

Placing your hand on your gut, to feel the way he creates a bulge inside your stomach. While he pumps his fingers into your ass faster, matching the strokes of his cock. The way his finger feels pushing your wetness into your ass is strange. Yet you don’t want it to stop, as you clench both of your holes around him.

Begging Toji, “Harder, fuck your thick cock deep into my guts. It hurts so much that my brain is going-aaahhhnnnng!” His cock hits a sweet spot inside you. Which has pulling his finger out of your ass while he groans,

“There is your sweet spot, didn’t want to take my cock out of your pussy till I found it.” He pulls his cock out of your pussy leaving you empty. And before you could even complain his cock is trusting deep into your other hole. While you scramble for the words, you reach back placing your hand on his abs smeared with your blood.

The words that come out are, “That isn’t my pussy, wrong hole Toji. nnng fuck why does it feelsoooogoodtoooootojiwrong-” Your words are slurring together. While the tears blurring your vision drip down your cheeks.

Toji slips off his gloves throwing them onto the floor and grabs your hips. Keeping you from running away from him. While he pushes you fall onto your stomach. His thick thighs press your legs together while you stretch them out. As you lay down with Toji deep in your ass, straddling your body.

Toji asks, “Then why it is taking my cock so well?” Then he quickly reminds you, “Say marshmallows and I’ll stop otherwise I’m cumming inside your ass instead of your pussy so I don’t knock you up.” You wonder how his cum is going to feel inside your white hot burning ass. Which he is pressing into the bed, keeping you from wiggling away from his punishing thrusts.

Lifting your head and look straight into the mirror. Watching the lines on his abs deepen with every thrust. You beg Toji, “Please fill my ass full of your thick cum. Want to get you off and make you feel good. It feels so good knowing that you’re enjoying my slutty ass the way it’s supposed to be used. It can’t be wrong if it feels this good, it’s too much yet not enough. NnnggToji! Fuck me Toji please, please please.” The pressure is building in your gut, despite no attention being given to your clit and pussy.

Grabbing a handful of your hair to keep and holding your head up the moment you try to muffle your cries. He asks you, “Are you getting off on having your asshole fucked? I hope you are feeling my cock still in your pussy and ass tomorrow morning when you wake up. I can’t wait to see you walking fun from me spitting you open.” His heavy balls hit your ass with every thrust.

Moaning to Toji, who moves his hand from your hips to your wrist. The way Toji is pinning your smaller body with a large bulky one. While he fucks himself into your is intoxicating. Biting into your bottom lip as your eyes roll back. While an intense wave of pleasure washes over you.

Letting go of your bottom lip and moaning, “Mmmnng Toji I can feel the veins of your cock pulsing. Nng I’m a dirty slut who enjoys getting her pussy and ass filled up full of cock and cum.” Toji lets go of your hair, slapping your ass roughly, watching it ripple from the impact of his large heavy palm.

Toji groans, “Damn right you are, that’s all you are, a set of tight wet holes for me to fuck.” You shift your hips from side to side while he picks his pace up. And you don’t think he can go any faster. While your heavy bed rocks, the headboard hits the back wall with every thrust.

Thick warm cum spills inside your ass which Toji smears around as he keeps fucking himself inside of you. While he moves his hand from your hair to your throat, which he only holds. Letting go of your wrist and placing his hand on the bed next to your head to prop himself up.

Pleading with Toji, “Don’t stop I’m going to cum again.” You hear a loud moan come from Toji as he keeps fucking his sensitive cock into your cum filled asshole. His thrusts become uneven as he suddenly jerks deeper while pulling out.

Toji grunts, “Fucking cum from getting your asshole filled up now.” He lets go of your wrists and slaps your ass again. While you gush Toji loudly moans,

“My slut. is a squirter fucking shit. Squirting from getting your pretty little ass stuffed. How fucking slutty and depraved are you?” You whine and pout when he pulls away and he is no longer touching you.

You are about to sit up when he tells you, “Lay still I need to clean you up before I take a shower.” And you need to go back to sleep, I’ll be here in the morning expecting breakfast since you know I’m living here.“ By the way, your pussy and asshole ache you are thinking about ordering some food for delivery.

Grateful that you don’t have work the next day, you lay on the bed crossing your arms and resting your head. While you bask in the aching afterglow that has your whole body feeling tingly and floaty. As your mind is hazy with a heavy cloud filling it.

Toji slips off the bed and walks into your bathroom. Where you watch as he grabs the hand towel and cleans his softening cock off. Before he vanishes from the sight of the doorway. Only to appear some moments later with a fresh hand towel that he sets by the sink.

Grabbing the handle of the cabinets underneath your bathroom sink. He opens them and pulls out the medical box you have underneath your skin. Pulling out the small bottle of rubbing alcohol he pours it onto a hand towel you had by your skin.

Coming back into your room, Toji climbs back onto your bed. He presses the wet hand towel to your cut up back, cleaning the blood off your back. With a gentleness, you didn’t expect from him.

Ignoring the soft stinging pain of the disinfectant on your Mumbling your question, "Will you sleep in the bed with me? It’s cozier than the sofa.” He cups your ass cheek, gently massaging it.

“After I shower and eat something I’ll come to hog the bed and blankets from you princess.” The seemingly affectionate nickname makes your heart pound as the sleepiness that was setting in fades.

Asking Toji, “Princess? I thought I was a whore?” Part of you thinks this aftercare is better than the sex itself. While the other part of you wants Toji to fuck you again. Just so you can feel this throbbing thick cock inside of you.

He says, “When I have my cock in you yeah, you’re my fucking whore. But right now you’re my princess, you did good for me.” With the towel in your head, he rolls you onto your back. Before he gets off the bed and then lifts you off the bed, cradling you to his chest. He takes you into the bathroom and sets you down on the toilet, telling you,

“Always pee after we fuck that’s another rule.” Toji lefts you in the bathroom to use it. And he strips your bed of its sheets. You figure he already knows where the spares are after living in your house for the past two months. So you don’t bother telling him as he leaves with your soiled covers.

Wiping and then flushing, you stand up only to gasp at the wobbliness of your legs. You grab onto the corner of the bathroom counter, leaning on that for support. While you move towards the sink where you wash your hands.

Any sense of being awake vanishing as heavy exhaustion washes over you. And you can’t help but close your eyes as you yawn and dry your hands off on the large fluffy towel hanging from its metal bar.

Walking into your bedroom where you stand by your bed as Toji stretched the bedsheet over the mattress. While he says, “You look like you are about to fall asleep standing up. At least you won’t be waking up several times tonight. Since I fucked you straight to sleep.” You merely let out a soft grunt in response.

Too sleepy to speak to Toji, as you grab one of the fluffy pillows. You hug your body while you stare at the bed longingly. And the moment he finishes with the bed sheet you lay down on the bed.

Toji snickers as he spread the heavy blanket out over you. He says, “Sleep tight princess, I’ll bully you again in the morning.” Closing your eyes and letting the heaviness of sleep tempt you into drifting off.

The next morning when you wake up with the memories of last night fresh on your mind. And the warmth of Toji’s body while he lays next to you. His large arm rested over your body pinning your arm to your side.

Your clit and pussy are throbbing at the memory of Toji’s thick cock filling you up. And thoughts about what it would feel like to have him cum inside your pussy, instead of your ass fill your mind.

Biting into your bottom lip and moving your pinned arm slowly. Making his heavy arm move as he pulls away, rolling onto his back. Leaving you free to slip your hand between your legs, touching your puffy clit.

Slipping your fingers down your slit, getting your fingers tips wet. And when you touch your clit again, you can’t stop yourself from letting go of your bottom lip and whimpering, “Toji.” Which earns a grumble from Toji laying next to you.

Jerking your hips while you keep rubbing your sensitive clit. Your finger doesn’t have the warm softness of Toji’s persistent tongue. Nor the soft and smooth texture of his glove but it feels almost as good.

Toji grumbles, “You’re moving a lot for someone who is supposed to be sleeping in.” Pulling your hand away from your clit and then rolling onto your side to look up at Toji, who still has his mask on.

You confess, “I keep thinking about what you did to me last night. I need more of you, I want you to bully my pussy some more like you said you would.” You let your attention drift from his mask down along his body. Stopping where the blanket gives to a large bulge.

Toji says, “Prove it to me by sucking my cock off making my cum be the first thing you eat today.”

m.list

[trashmouth-richie]

Alright, babe. Let's do Angsty, and your words are: crunch and parking lot

xo -Amanda

@curiositydooropened you asked for angst and bby i’m delivering hot and ready in 30 minutes or less, like surfer boys pizza or a real horny boyfriend. 🍆💦

18+ HEAVY ANGST, upside down themes, s1 canon events with reader thrown into the mix. you’re dating eddie! yay!

<650 words

send me a prompt! from this post :)

A strong western wind bristled the leaves.

Wrestling colors of burnt persimmon and chestnut hues around in a whimsical swirl of a colorful tornado. Some stuck to the inky wet of the grass from the early morning rain. Others found their way like Magellan to a faraway land (a nearby leaf pile) or maybe into the yard of a lucky kid able to rake enough of them up to earn a few dimes in the pockets of their Levi’s. 

It was chilly for the unusual Indian Summer Hawkins was experiencing this fall. As if winter broke through the endless seams of  the late humid summer, demanding to be felt, to be seen.

Could you do that? Be seen? 

You heard the screech of the ailing boy nights before. The squeal of tires from the police station. His mother—you presumed, frantically called his name into the town, like a lone wolf howling into the harvest moon hung sky. 

Yet, the boy remained missing. 

Would you be missed…like the Byers’ boy? Who would call for you? Would he?

Flyers went up, crunching beneath the metallic thump of a steel staple. Into telephone posts, poked through cork boards around the school with colorful tacs. Taped to pay phones and called across radio stations. 

Eddie had assured you that he had probably run away, typical for kids that age who didn’t get what they wanted. But you felt something. Heard things in the night while curled into his chest. It spoke to you. Begged you to look for It.. 

Barbara Holland went missing. Last seen at a party of Harrington’s that you heard him loudly strutting around the hallways about to impress the quiet, pretty freshman girl. 

Again, you told your boyfriend of your worries. Cried to him about the lack of sleep you’d been getting, the nightmarish creatures you’d seen when your eyes were closed. He pulled you into him, forefinger hooked under your jaw, and like a fish on a line, you succumbed to him. It was hard not to when somebody loved you the way Eddie did. 

Had it been days? You couldn’t be sure. 

Street lights flickered. They always did at Eddie’s— it was normal. But maybe you should have been more self-aware. Maybe you would have noticed It. 

Long spindly arms clawed at your coat as you ran, bony fingers hooked into the belt around your waist, pulling you back, further and further towards the opening at the base of a tree. 

You fought, clawed at dirt and muck and shit to escape its clutches. Badly bleeding, injured, breaths away from death— until you weren’t. Until you were somehow nestled beneath foliage— safe, hiding, alone. 

The treeline behind the trailer park was where you laid. Unable to make a sound, caked with dried blood, colored dark on your body, the sharp stink of infection and decay permeated the chilly air, and you knew it was from you. 

Would he know how much you loved him? How proud of him you were for sticking up for kids who needed it?

You’d miss his smile, his dimples, that giddy dorky laugh he couldn’t hide when you tickled his sides. The way butterflies swarmed in your stomach when he kissed you.

Would he miss you…cry for you?

You lie in wait watching the leaves scatter across the dirt parking lot. Body cold and broken, blood trickling to the earth. Time ticking down to what could possibly be your inevitable end. 

[staytinyville]

OUTLAW (15)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: None

BETA READ (@mariana-mmtz)

It had been two weeks later by the time any of the boys came back to tell you about the others. Yeosang and Seonghwa had been staying with Jongho and Yunho in the meantime, rather than going back to the camp. The whole thing with the outlaw and you, made you feel unnerved. Your neighbors would look at you like you were dirt, sneering when you would pass by.

You realized the only people who didn’t look at you a certain way were the ones who stayed out late at night. Word hadn’t spread far for the real reason why you were sent to the police station, but you already knew that whatever the sheriff thought of you was what he told everyone else. 

The girl who you had saved, you learned worked in the stables of your neighborhood. She was 17, only a year older than your sister. In fact, your sister expressed how they went to school together, telling you that the girl had always been shy but after the murders she didn’t dare to look at anyone. 

It made you upset knowing she was traumatized. You wanted to get to know her, try to make her return to normal. But going through something like that, you guessed it wouldn’t be easy. You sighed to yourself as you were brought out of your head with Jongho and Yunho walking up to the front desk. 

Yeosang and Seonghwa walked out of the office, coming to stand next to you as you leaned your torso over the wood. 

“We might have found something.” Yunho spoke up. 

“What do you mean?” You frowned.

“Captain left a message for us.” The tall man leaned closer, glancing around to make sure no one was near. “They made tracks going one way but the ashes left from the campfire were blown another.” He explained. “They left in that direction.” His eyes found his friends, watching as they understood what he was talking about. 

“We have to find them.” You quickly said. 

“One step at a time, Love.” Jongho sighed. “Me and Yunho will take care of it, seeing as you all need to stay for work.”

Yeosang and Seonghwa both pursed their lips, realizing that they couldn’t just take off with a good enough excuse. 

“That's not fair.” You softly cried. 

“Honey, it's how jobs work.” Yeosang wrapped his arm around your waist, rubbing his thumb in a soothing manner.

“I'll find something to tell my parents.” You shook your head, turning to look at the man. “I have to go see them too.”

While you knew they were safe from the law in Cromer, it didn’t stop you from worrying about other towns being on the lookout for the outlaws as well. It was common for towns to be in the know about other crimes happening nearby. Who knew how far they had to go to find a safe place. 

“We'll come up with something.” Yunho sighed, watching as your eyes seemed to become downcast. 

You took in a deep breath, trying to come up with the best idea you could. The only issue you had at the moment was coming up with an excuse to give to your parents. There were a lot of things you could tell them, however it was best to create a full story just in case cracks started to show. 

Looking over at the boys, your eyes stopped on Seonghwa which caused him to look at you with wide eyes. 

“Seonghwa never told my parents where he was from.” You spoke up. “What if we say he has sick family in Dune. It's a few hours by horse. We'll be back in two days.”

They all began to think over the story, nodding to themselves when they saw it as a good excuse. However, while that would be able to get the boys free from work, they couldn’t guarantee your days off. 

“That settles our story, but why would you need to be going?” Yeosang questioned. 

“I'll tell them I'll be your navigator.” You quickly prattled off. “That you don't know how to get to Dune from Cromer.” Seonghwa raised a brow as you looked at him. 

His gave Yunho a side eye, trying to fight off the grin that threatened to overtake his lips. There were things you wanted to do in life and you would do anything to achieve them. At the moment, going to find the rest of the boys was all you wanted to do. It made heat bloom within his chest to see you care so much about wanting to see all of them.

You had four very capable men standing in front of you and yet, you knew that they felt lost without the rest of them. You couldn’t choose to stay with just one, you wanted to make sure they were all together. He had never met someone who thought of others needs before their own. You were selfless, and it caught all of their attention.

“You sure about this?” He asked you.

“I have it planned.” You smiled, nodding your head. “You two go to tell them about Seonghwa’s family. Once they accept your leave, tell them you need a navigator.” 

As they boys all took the moment to come to an understanding, they all set off in the direction they needed to. When the deputies went back to their room to gather their things, Yeosang and Seonghwa went to find your parents. 

When they came across your father in the saloon, deciding to ask him, seeing as he was the boss. With a smile on his face, Yeosang was the one who spoke to him.

“We would like to speak to you about asking for some days off.” The man softly asked.

“Oh,” Your father raised his eyebrows. “What is it?” 

“I got a letter that my grandmother is sick.” Seonghwa sighed deeply, trying his best to sound like he was worried. “She's currently in Dune where my family is taking care of her. I would like to go see her, just in case the worst comes.”

“Well, I mean of course. You can take however long you need.” Your father was a kind man. He knew what it was like to have sick family. 

Your grandmother left this world before your grandfather, having died of fever. Your grandfather died shortly thereafter to a broken heart. While your father wasn’t an only child, he was the only son and the eldest. His sisters left the home to care for their husbands, which left your father in charge of caring for his parents. 

It wasn’t Seonghwa’s duty to take care of his grandmother, but your father remembered how upset you were to lose your grandmother. If Seonghwa was as close to his grandparents as you were, your father knew how much it hurt to know they were sick. 

It pulled at your chest to know that it was all a lie. But when you returned, all you could easily say was that it was a normal sickness and that she would be fine in the following weeks. 

“Three days should suffice. It's enough to rest and travel.” Seonghwa continued on.

“Both you and Yeosang then?” Your father questioned. 

“Actually, we were hoping we could ask for a navigator. I don't really know the route to Dune from Cromer.” Seonghwa took a glance at you, watching as you came up behind your father.

“Well, I guess you can take (B/N)-”

“I'll do it.” You spoke up, a grin on your face as you looked at your father. 

“You?” Your father says skeptically.

“You told me to talk with Yeosang. I'll have plenty of time on the trip.” You tried to explain to him. 

“I don't know about that anymore, (Y/N).” While he did tell you to act buddy-buddy with Yeosang, going out for three days with two men was not exactly something your father saw as a good idea.  

“It'll be fine. I promise.” You told him, giving him a bright smile to show there was nothing to worry about. 

“Well alright.” Your father said slowly. “You all be careful.” He was looking at you, worry showing in his eyes. 

You gave him a hug, turning to give the boys a smile. “I'll go pack. We can leave in a moment.” As you turned to leave, your father was left with the two boys. 

“You boys better take care of my daughter.” He told them. 

“With our life.” Yeosang nodded his head. 

It took 30 minutes to pack up all you needed. With a tearful goodbye from your mother, you went on your way, riding on your own family horse this time rather than sitting behind Yeosang or Seonghwa. 

You sighed to yourself as you started your journey once you hit the road out of your family's estate. It was the first time you were leaving the house alone for a couple of days. You understood why your mother was upset, but also you felt like this was the first time you were someone. 

You had spent your entire life up until then doing what your parents told you to. You never went out when there was a curfew, never stayed with friends for sleepovers. Not that you ever wanted to do those kinds of things. You were living day to day, thinking that what you saw and did was all you were ever going to know. 

Meeting the boys really seemed to change the way you looked at the world. Things that you used to do in the past were so dull in comparison to what you were so used to. You had always known the kind of person you were, but having met the people you call friends now, put your thoughts into actions. 

You would have never dared to interfere with those thugs, probably living the rest of your life in guilt that would eat you away from not going to investigate. But they brought a sense of adrenalin into you. A push that leads you to want to be the hero in this story. 

“The ashes were blown that way.” Jongho showed you all where the fire pit was moved to point in another direction. 

You watched how the ashes were brushed to the side in one single direction and knew that had the wind blown away the ashes it wouldn’t look so clean. You pursed your lips, thinking about how anyone could have missed something like this. As you looked off into the direction the ashes pointed, you tried to map out the surrounding area you knew.

“There's a creek that runs off the river.” You called, pointing in that direction.

“The police of Cromer already checked it.” Yunho told you. 

“Yes, but they didn't follow along it.” You moved to climb back onto your horse. “Look around for more clues.” You told the others. 

“Are we just going to ignore that the way she bosses us around is actually really sexy?” Seonghwa placed his hands on his hips, watching you look around the area. 

“Who are you?” Yunho teased. “Wooyoung?”

It took a good 30 minutes of searching around the surrounding area of the creek to find something out of the ordinary. You came across a tree with what looked like bear claw marks on the bark. There were four slash marks going down the tree bark, but there were four more going up in the opposite direction. 

The first two marks seemed to be overlapping on another, creating an H that immediately stood out to you. “I think I found it.” You called over your shoulder. “It looks like bear marks.”

Yunho moved his horse alongside yours, raising a brow at the marks on the tree. “Yes, but Hongjoong leaves the scratches diagonal as well.” Yunho explained.

As you both looked around, you started to notice the trail of marked up trees. They all lead in one direction, making you smile brightly at the fact. “They're this way.”

You quickly tried to get your horse to move swiftly, feeling all the more hopeful that you will get to see the boys again. 

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki , @mismatchfluffysocks ,

[love-toxin]

Retrieval - entry I

plot: after escaping the horrors of Los Iluminados, a piece of your heart is still stuck in that desolate place. you won't truly be able to rest until you find him--or until you put him down like the monster you wish you'd saved him from.

(cws: post-canon divergence, re4make spoilers, yandere!plagas!leon, fem!agent!reader, guns & blunt weapons, blood, gore & injuries, violence, grief, funerals, pining [chapter smut cws: wet dreams, mild choking, possessiveness, unprotected]

wc: 5.3k

(future entries to come! <3)

No matter how much time passes, you're certain this place will always reek of blood and death. It will always be the place that you lost the person most dear to you, and in such a vile, cruel way that it still haunts your darkest nightmares.

It's been awhile since then, but it all still feels the same when you step down from the car and let the door shut with an unapologetic thud. The air hangs heavy and thick with humidity, and although the distant stench of rot is lesser this time around, it still lurks in the background of your senses like a shadow creeping by the windows of a house. The trees hang low and sway gently as you pass them, crows beckoning you deeper into the brush with their croaking trills echoing all around you. Aside from a pitiful line of cautionary police tape strung across an iron gate, even the entryway and the path leading into the village all look exactly as they did weeks ago.

The last time your feet hit the dirt here, only Leon had been your much-needed company in your venture. You'd walked through the mud and ran through the mist together; searching the lodge and being chased into the heart of the village had only been the beginning. His breathing had been the thing to keep you calm then, of all things. Those heavy pants when he scrambled through doors and soft puffs of his chest when it was a touch too quiet; it reminded you that he was alive, and saved you from having to glance over and pray in the seconds between that he wasn't being carved into a bloody stump by a Ganados.

But all that? That was a long time ago. It feels like a lifetime, and yet neither of those timelines are the truth–really, it's barely been a month since you and Leon had been separated, but it still feels like years since you've seen him.

The scent of charcoal pulls you away from the memory of him as you draw close to the circle of houses, your gun out of its holster the moment you cross underneath the main gate. You at least have the sense not to go slinging it around when you hear the crackle of twigs in the underbrush, though the sound that resembles a gasp has you eyeing the forest to your left…just long enough to watch the offending group of birds chitter and take flight suddenly up and away from the trees as you draw close. The policemen that had accompanied you here have long since granted you their goodbyes, their eyes dark and fearful at the sight of this village looming in the distance before they had driven off in a frantic hurry. When you think about it you can't really blame them, not with them knowing the unfortunate fate of the two men they had probably rubbed shoulders with back at the station. Knowing that both of them had been made sacrifice for no better reason than violence and power.

That would've been you and Leon once upon a time, if Umbrella and the virus and everything hadn't screwed it all up and blown it to pieces. Sometimes you daydream about what it could've been like at RPD, but most times it's too painful to even consider and you just end up drowning your sorrows in a bottle of liquor instead. Leon would be admonishing you for dealing with it in that way and he would've been a total hypocrite for it, but he hasn't been here to do so. The thought that he won't ever be again fills you with so much dread you can feel it in each step you take into this dilapidated heap of pig slop and manure.

It's been over a month since you've been here last, about 37 days if you've been marking off your calendar correctly. You had to take into account the retrieval, your hospital stay, and the few days that seemed to meld into each other when you'd slept almost every hour away in recovery, but altogether it totals 37 days since you last stepped foot on this soil. Over five weeks since you last saw Leon, and only a couple days since you gave a eulogy at his funeral. It had all felt fake and pitiful even with you having organized it yourself–most of the people there were the reasons he even came to this disgusting place, all those government agents and well-to-do politicians that ate up yours and Leon's survivor stories and demanded you join the military's special ops. They should be the ones paying the price in the grave, not Leon.

But as you look around now, there really isn't much to speak of in the first place, now that you feel the sense of urgency wane and lower your pistol in the wake of dead silence. Aside from the bullet holes, the crumbled tower, and the blasted-out windows that cake the dirt with glass, there's not many signs that you and Leon had even treaded ground here. It's getting later than you'd like based on the position of that hot, Spanish sun, though. You've got to get moving and quit moping around this ghost town if you want to make any progress on his retrieval before night falls.

This isn't a trip down memory lane, after all. You came here with your own rescue mission in mind; you're here to find Leon's body, and you're prepared to give him the mercy he deserves if your suspicions about his supposed death are correct. Because you can't keep living with that memory of him in your head, that version of Leon burdened with black veins and vermillion eyes and a pained gait as he tried to kill you. When there weren't enough injections of the suppressant to go around, he gave you his own–and when it came time for you to go under the knife, Leon insisted on you and Ashley going first even when he had a death grip on the lever, the Plagas taking over him quick enough that he knew exactly what he was doing. Leon gave his life for you, Ashley, and Luis to live–and you've taken on the job of returning the favour, whether it means dragging him home in a body bag to give him a worthy burial, or putting a bullet in his head and ending the monster you never wanted to see him become.

"La Americana!"

But the moment you take another step to climb over the rubble of the church, a voice shouting from behind you sends a chill rocketing right up your spine. You thought you would only hear it again in your nightmares–but no, as soon as you turn on your heel, your eyes scan over a mob of Ganados shambling right for you. Drooling, bloody, rotting villagers wielding their pitchforks and sickles, and in that momentary panic that freezes you to the ground, a cold feeling erupts inside your chest that you've never experienced before. Acting on base instinct alone you make a mad dash for the house on your right, but you're left skidding to a stop and backing away just as quick when another monster lunges out of the doorway and makes a swipe. You're being cornered, trapped, with nobody left to save you like they did before.

This is wrong. It feels wrong, it sounds wrong, it's all wrong. This is exactly what happened before, but that was a nightmare you fought through and survived. You shouldn't be here again. Why are you here again? Why are you being so stupid to feed yourself to the same monsters that took your Leon from you? Why haven't you learned your lesson? Why?

When the first gets close enough to strike, you barely even register the hot, vile presence of its foul breath on your skin. Your muscles tighten and you swing indiscriminately, the butt of your pistol smashing into its temple with a force you didn't even know you were capable of. The scythe in its hand is halfway to hitting the ground before you're crossing the distance to the second one, movements almost robotic as you empty half your magazine into its forehead and don't stop until you're standing over it. For some reason, the gore and the blood splattering over you doesn't disturb you like it should. It doesn't even feel…real.

You're all to blame for this. This is all your fault.

Whether those thoughts are self-inflicting or self-soothing, they plague your mind in a constant, changing loop as you stagger from villager to villager. There's no other option; either fight or die, because reason won't get you anywhere but closer to your own grave. It's not even worth running at this point because they'll just chase you down, and you want them to just leave you alone more than you even want to live.

Getting hit doesn't feel real. Watching the Ganados choke on metal doesn't feel real. Not even your gun clicking empty and burning hot in your hands feels real, even when your brow furrows and you whip it at the nearest monster with a grunt that sounds more feral than ferocious. It's a slaughter but you can't tell that time has passed, or that you've gained bruises from the beating you've taken, or even that you've been blowing off the faces of people who were probably just people once. It just doesn't matter in that short, fury-driven span of time, not until you have nothing more to attack and you blink yourself awake with a hatchet gripped in your hands, soaked from head to toe in rotting blood.

With one final, blood-curdling scream from the deepest pit of your stomach, you throw your arm down and send the weapon flying across the ground like a tempestuous child. The pain, fury, and grief have been building up inside you for long you've forgotten what it feels like to be free, what it once felt like to laugh away your troubles when they got too big to deal with. Now you've been planning your best friend's funeral on the days you don't drink yourself into a stupor, and nothing matters anymore. This was a stupid idea and all you've done is set yourself up for a bigger, stupider failure than you've already proven you could accomplish. Right now, the best relief would come if you just dropped dead.

….But it doesn't come, even after you've fallen to your knees and sobbed into your hands. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. You count each breath, but each of them are just as heavy and laboured as the last, never slowing or getting shallower. If anything, you feel more alive as your senses come back and you cringe at the blood starting to crust over your skin and clothes. Taking your hands away, all that fills them is a sheen of dark, wine-deep red, splattered with tears that sting just as much as your skin that's been hacked with small, shallow cuts and bruises. As the episode passes, your desire to get up is stronger than your want to just lay down and relinquish your strength.

So you press on. Not for want of something better, but for the simple fact that you have nowhere else to go but forward. You put yourself into this mess, and as you can hear Leon's voice in your head, "You can get yourself out of it."

So you walk. You scoop up your gun from the ground and wipe the blood from the handle with your shirt. You stumble over the chunks of stone and rubble that litter your path, weaving through the half-open doors that haven't leaned right since Leon had first kicked them in or shot them open. You just keep walking until the gate with that familiar symbol comes into view, and upon pushing it open you're met with the sight of a sea of graves and dead grass–and a murder of crows watching you through the tree branches while they await a new body to pick at.

Seeing the church looming over the hilltop is enough to give you a chill. Maybe the graves are helping with that, standing as crooked and crumbling as they were before, but whatever it is about that place just plagues you with a sense of unease. Each step up the hill has you on guard, peeking around to see whether more Ganados will come out–but it's just as eerily quiet as you expected it to be, and you don't even spot much more than the crows until you're past the gate and standing on the front step of the chapel. To your fortune, the door's still unlocked–as you hoped it would be, considering all that you and Leon had to endure to get it open the first time. You'll never forget that feeling of your stomach sinking when you watched him retch up all that blood over the side of the boat, nor the heat of his tight grip as he had grabbed your wrist and whimpered in pain before slipping into unconsciousness on your lap.

Life had been scary enough then, but in some way seeing Leon go through the Plagas infection hit you harder than any other mission you'd gone through…especially since you know now that he would never be cured. He was just so strong in the face of everything, even during Raccoon City, when he truly had no idea what he was doing. He had such a kind heart that he would do anything for anybody. Even if he could be a hardass at times, he was pure.

Thinking about Leon always ends up leading you to memories of his funeral, especially so as your shoulders relax and you step into this church that somewhat resembles the one that housed it. You drop your bag on the nearest pew and let it spill over on to its side, and when your wallet tumbles out, your eyes pass over the picture inside that makes another memory pop into your head.

"This world is undoubtedly worse off without Leon. It won't ever be the same, and I…I'll miss you, Sancho."

Luis hadn't more than dabbed at his eyes at the service, but he'd hugged you so tightly at the reception he could've broken your bones with ease. You sat at a pew just like this one and held your hands between you throughout the eulogies, quiet and empty while Ashley cried her eyes out a few rows ahead. Other than a few close friends from the academy, a couple surviving members of RPD, and a handful of people Leon got to know in the military, the rest of the service was populated by complete strangers to you. Including the president himself, whose hand you openly refused to shake when he approached you with his "condolences". Without Luis there to guide you away to go get some complimentary dinner, you might have told the leader of your country where exactly he could stuff his condolences.

At the very least you can get some healing by actually burying your best friend, you think as you check the perimeter of the church to ensure its security. If you succeed, which you're hoping might actually happen if you can keep the grief and overwhelming anxiety to a minimum.

"Mh?"

Perhaps it's a good sign already, but going unnoticed by you up until now you spot something out of your peripheral that looks out of place here–and when you step up to it to take a look, sitting at the crest of the church where the podium would be, is what looks to be a washbasin that might have come from one of the nearby houses. Peering over the lip it looks to be filled with nothing but clear water…and when you dip a finger in, a sigh escapes you when you feel how warm it is. There's even a towel hanging over the nearest pew that you could've sworn wasn't there earlier, but it's getting harder to see with all the blood caking your eyelashes. And not one to turn away a perfectly good miracle, you're all too happy to strip off your clothes and dunk your head, hair, and limbs into a clean, semi-refreshing bath.

While you scrub the dust, dirt, and dried entrails from your skin, your mind wanders yet again into another world–the one you lived in before, so blissfully unaware of how bad the outcome could truly be. You'd met Leon for the first time at his debriefing in the RPD, when he'd been quietly optimistic with that baby face and a well of enthusiasm that had come out in the strength of his handshake. Marvin introduced you first as his immediate superior because you'd been in that same position before; you had been the rookie from out of town the year prior, and aside from the beaming sense of pride at moving up a peg in the force, you also liked how sweet Leon was.

He'd greeted you with honorifics you didn't need, smiled when you gave him a tour, and not once did he ever scoff or roll his eyes when you were giving him advice before he had even started. You noticed him because he was new, but also because he respected you and pretty much everyone else with barely any hesitation. In his plainclothes surrounded by decorated officers he treated everyone he met like a friend, and although Marvin had expressed concern about him being a little naive once he went home, you remember that moment as you watched him get into his car, and you remember thinking that the world–and Raccoon City–needed more people like that. You liked to think that you always knew he was a hero at heart.

Your brow softens as the water starts running clear down your body, the basin filled with blood and muck that you've been scrubbing off your skin until it's raw. The tiredness is setting in now from the plane ride and the tension, and all you want to do is sleep–but a sudden start and pain flooding through your abdomen has you alert and gripping the edge of the basin. Easing your chest out of the way to look down, you watch in frustrated horror as your fingers brush by the opening of a much more significant wound than the scrapes and bruises just beneath your breast down towards your stomach. At only about a half inch wide and five or more inches long the cut isn't severe, it doesn't even seem like it's been touched by the filth you've been doused in as you pour a little more water over it. But now that you've noticed it the sting is much more palpable, and with no desire to have it infected and die a slow death you fumble for your pitiful first aid kit and work away at closing the wound. Strips of medical tape and gauze are about all you can do, though the process is slow and awkward with you trying not to stretch or strain it too much for it to hurt worse. Just your luck. It's only the first day. You just count yourself fortunate that Leon isn't here to see this because you know he'd both fuss over you and tease you to no end…although you do find yourself glancing around more as you fix yourself up, your mind on high alert while you're in this state of vulnerability. For some reason you do feel watched, although with no sounds or odd noises to tip you off you're tempted to assume you're relatively safe. You can only hope that you are, because rarely have you ever been so sluggish and desperate for rest than you feel right now and you'd rather not wake up with an axe in your skull.

When you're done and with your clothes still hanging wet over the pew, you've got little choice but to tug on an old shirt and thin shorts from the bottom of your bag, the spare set of clothes an absolute emergency item that you're glad you at least brought this time. The summer heat's still strong so hopefully it doesn't get too cold in the night, the darkness of which you can spot creeping over the horizon through the stained glass windows. Luckily for you the layout is fairly simple and you'd already rediscovered the upstairs room where Ashley had been kept in your search, so after pushing the pews with a grunt to block the doors, low windows, and finally the ladder to the second floor, you take your gathered things inside and set up on the thin, downy cover that will have to do as a mattress for tonight. You've certainly slept in worse, less secure places than this anyways.

But before you allow yourself the chance to drift off, your fingers stretch for your wallet again that you'd tucked back into your bag, the picture greeting you once more when you flip it open and slide it out. Leon's beaming face smiles back at you, and your gentle self stands beside him six years younger in front of the RPD's grand foyer statue. Him in his jacket and you in your uniform, waving and grinning at the camera with his arm around you like nothing bad ever existed in the world. You knew in your heart that day would be the start of something different, but just how different wouldn't occur to you until it was too late. The picture sits tightly in your hand for immeasurable moments that melt into one another, up until your eyes finally flutter closed and you drift off in neverending silence.

When sleep finally comes, so do the dreams. And in them, you get to see Leon in a much more visceral way than the pictures on your desk or the smell of cologne on his jacket. The walls behind you look to be the same as the room you'd fallen asleep in, but in smooth fashion a hand cups your chin and pulls your gaze back from the floor to the one who wants it the most.

Leon looms above you on bended knees, his chest bare and hair tousled as if he'd yanked off his shirt in a hurry–he's always like that, always in a rush to begin only to take his sweet, agonizing time when he's actually performing. His lips look bitten and flushed like he's been kissing you already, but maybe that's because he's been nibbling on it like he is now out of shyness, or maybe embarrassment.

"I missed you." Your voice comes out muffled as it usually does, and Leon shifts around, his hands dwarfing your knees in comparison as he moves them to fit himself between them.

"I'm right here, sweetheart." His smile lights up your world with a glow, he makes it brighter even though a shadow still casts itself over half his face from the lantern on the other side of the room. "I'm always here for you."

But you died. Those words play on your lips, but you don't allow them to slip out. If you do, the dream may end here and now, and you can't afford to let such a precious moment of affection pass you by. "I love you, Leon." You whimper instead, and he gasps with pure, undiluted need as he makes that push inside you that he's been waiting for all night–that soft, wet heat welcoming his stiff self in like it always does and always will. The pressure stings at first, it beats hard in your chest and between your legs where he lies, but it's a forgiving ache and not a dull pain. When Leon kisses you again, it all disappears just as quickly–even quicker when he eventually starts to move.

"I love you more. I'll always love you, even after you're gone." He whispers against your lips, breathing his sentiment in and capturing yours on every exhale back. His fingertips leave trails of searing desire up your flesh, warm hands guiding your arms higher to rest around his neck and keep him as close as you can. You wouldn't need to, you don't have to, but he wants to be closer and you know you do too. Being inside you isn't enough for him, he needs you to want him, to desire him so deeply you can't fathom being apart. And you do, you always do, but you never seem to manage saying it out loud even in the throes of a perverse dream…but he can.

"I'll love you even if you leave me again. I'll fuck you so good you don't even think of doing it to me." Your lover pants, his pace picking up while your pleasure jumbles up into a heated, twisted mess. It seems like he's just entered you but at the same time it feels long, like you've been at his mercy for hours or days on end and the pressure keeps mounting higher and higher too fast. These fantasies usually end too soon for your liking but that's always because you're the one folding first, legs shaking and nails digging blunt marks into his arms when he makes you see stars. You're getting close to that mark now, yet you've barely even started.

Leon suddenly holds his hand up to your throat, fingers splayed over your delicate neck to squeeze it with a growl low in his throat. "Don't ever leave me again. Promise me." At your absent reply he tightens his grip harder, and the stars in your eyes have you choking out an answer that isn't good enough. "Promise me I'm the only one. Swear on your life you won't choose him over me."

"I-I promise! Leon, p-please, I promise! I-I'm coming to–c-cumming, Lee!" You cry, overwhelmed as you look up with wet, hazy eyes at the man you've always loved. The black veins start spreading across his golden skin, and his own gaze grows cold and dark before a sudden pulse turns his irises to a bright, piercing red. The killing blow comes with a chuckle as his lips curl into a sinister smirk, and his hips plummet down to meet yours in a cacophony of sounds that will echo in your mind for days on end, just before he stills and a shudder rolls through his body. As tight as he says you are, he never fails to press himself deep enough that he releases that pent-up desire as close to your womb as possible.

"Mine. All mine. You promised."

In the next moment of bliss settling in and a groan erupting from his throat, the world blots out into darkness and you jolt up from the floor with a start.

"Shit!"

The curse just flies from your mouth on instinct, the heat having disappeared and the pressure of a body on top of you making way for cold, aching emptiness. An uncomfortably warm, sticky wetness pooled between your legs has your attention immediately, but you've got no choice but to cringe and ignore the discomfort for now. Your breathing labours in your chest for minutes upon strained minutes before eventually quieting, and only then do you groan and shift in your spot to glance at the time just to remember that you aren't in your bed nor at home. As you would hope not, considering how stiff your back is from sleeping on the ground.

Without windows it's impossible to tell just how long you've slept, and a glance around the empty room offers no clues either. So when you manage to get up and stretch, the only thing you notice fluttering down from where you'd let go of it is that same photo of yourself and Leon–with that dream in the back of your head, however, you can't bring yourself to look at him and shove it back into the plastic holder in your wallet.

Still, with that being a normal practice for you being around the person you've been harbouring feelings for, that dream in itself was stranger than most. The last thing you want is to dwell on it right this minute, but Leon's words still echo in your head regardless; what did he mean when he spoke those words? Did they have a shred of truth to them, or were they just the frantic machinations of your brain still trying to make sense of his death?

Either way, you don't really want to know. You just want to leave this place altogether–but with that option out the window, the least you can do is leave this church and get some fresh air. With the skill and briskness of a trained agent, you gather your things and briskly slip on your newly-dried clothes downstairs, a few bites of a protein bar all you need to sustain you at least for a couple hours.

Upon pushing on the heavy entrance doors, the crack of light between them opens up into a bright horizon with the sun beating down on the soil, the burst of morning light blinding you temporarily as you take those first few steps outside. It's just long enough for your surroundings to come into focus that you get a whiff of the humid air–and in seconds your nose scrunches up, the foul stench of decay pervading your senses in the instant that it takes for you to take a look around.

Lying in droves around the cemetery, piles at the bottom of the hill, and strung in pieces all around your feet, are the bodies of the Ganados. The sight of it strickens you immediately with shock, but then nauseates you to the point of clutching your mouth to keep what little food you brought from coming back up.

The corpses have been strewn around like some sort of macabre dollhouse; lying in pieces splayed every which way, facedown in the grave dirt or strung up in the trees for the crows to peck at. Some have been gutted and others dismembered. A few have their heads missing. Intestines and gore lie in bloody wake around the site of the massacre, sticking to the soles of your boots from one step into the aftermath, and you want to vomit. God, how can you not want to vomit at the sight of it all? What god could be so cruel, even to monsters?

It's sickening to the point of panic–run, you just want to turn tail and run far, far away, but your destination hasn't been decided quite yet. Ideally you would have sat down with your map and plotted it out, found your next objective, maybe would've scoped out the closest place to rest once you're finished your search. You would've been thorough and confident like any rescuer should be.

But the cowardice in your heart screams louder than courage. In a moment, you're rushing down the path and running out the gate, frantic in shoving it open just enough to slide yourself through but too disturbed to look back towards the carnage. In seconds the church is far behind you, and in a matter of minutes you're on a new path you haven't yet considered the danger of.

All you know is that you want out of this place, you want to go home–even though home has been within arm's reach since you got here. It's never too far away, especially when you inevitably follow the road that leads right towards that infamous castle gate, and your destiny.

[beejunos]

SINNERMAN | Alastor x f.reader | part 3.

Summary: After Sir Pentious’s failed attempt at spying on the hotel, the Vees approach you to make a new deal—a deal that you can’t refuse. Help them take down Alastor, and you will get to kill him again. After all, the great butcher of New Orleans had killed your brother, so it was only fair that you had killed him in return. And you would love to do it again.

Tags: Alastor x f!reader, slow burn, obsessive behaviour, enemies to lovers, spying, murder

PART 1. | PART 2. | AO3

Chapter 3. Brother, oh, brother

August 21st, 1927. New Orleans. 

The day had been unusually cold for New Orleans in August, but the radio station quickly turned warm as its employees and their families congregated in its halls to celebrate the station's explosive expansion. The clock had just turned ten o'clock at night, and laughter could be heard blending effortlessly with the music from the live band. 

The radio station's celebration occurred in its most splendid room, an old salon converted into a restaurant and lunch room. From the ceiling hung beautiful crystal chandeliers that cast a wonderfully warm glow over the crowd of people mingling all around. The walls were painted in a deep, rich indigo that made the room feel more luxurious and intimate, with dark stained wooden accents and an oak floor. On the ceilings could a faint trace of paint still be seen from a time the ceiling had been painted, but there was no possibility of interpreting what the images were anymore.

You admired the incredible art that hung on the walls as you zigzagged through the people to get to where you thought you had seen your brother. You quickly apologised to anyone you bumped into as you squeezed between groups to avoid disturbing them. Mindful of the cream-coloured dress you had bought with your own money after working long hours as a secretary at the police station, you pressed it close to your body so it never snagged on anything or anyone else. It was the closest thing you would ever come to being considered a flapper. Something you longed for desperately. To be as free as them.

However, that would never be in the cards for you. Born from one of the wealthiest families in New Orleans, it was a miracle that your mother and father had let you work at the police station at all. Like any good daughter, you loved your parents deeply, but sometimes you wished they would loosen their leach on you. 

Thankfully, you had your brother, who could get away with anything. As the eldest son, your parents expected him to one day take over the family business, but in the meantime, they let him do whatever he wanted. This led him to now work at the radio station as one of their hosts, but it was only temporary if your father would have a say. 

Your brother, Joshua, had always been a wild child. Full of energy and a lust for life that you had never seen in anyone else, and as children, he had always had the nasty habit, according to your mother, of dragging you off into his various adventures. All of these minor adventures constantly ended with both of you coming home with dirt and grass stains all over your white clothes. 

These small adventures never really ended, and even now, when both of you were adults, he would often help you escape your parents and their restrictive ways. Joshua frequently talked bout how when he was the head of the family business, he would buy you a one-way ticket to New York just so one of you could be free. But, in the meantime, he would invite you to various events that he and his friends would hold. This time, he had invited you to the event at the radio station. 

You continued to squeeze past a larger group where one of the older men laughed rather loudly at one of his jokes before you saw your brother. You called out his name as he started to walk in the other direction. Hearing his name, Joshua quickly spun around and met your gaze with the same boyish smile you had grown up with.

"There she is!" he called and held out his hand to pull you into the group he was talking to. "Everyone, I want you all to meet my little sister." 

They all greeted you by saying their own names, and you really tried to remember every single one of them. However, after a long evening of new faces, names, and job titles, it became pretty difficult to remember who was who. 

"Where's Alastor? Shouldn't he be here by now?" asked a woman with short red hair as she lit a cigarette. Her emerald green dress sparkled like green stars in the evening light, and you felt a tiny bit jealous since your parents would never allow you to wear anything that beautiful. You had to think of the good family name and reputation, as they would have said.

"Oh, I saw him just a few minutes ago," Joshua answered unhelpfully as he started to look around the crowd. However, he was a short man and could not see that far over the crowd. 

"He's dancing, as always," chuckled one of the men beside the redhead as he took her cigarette and used it himself. They looked so lovingly at each other that you had to turn away, for it felt like you were invading their tender moment. 

"Ah, there he is. Hey, Alastor! Over here!" shouted Joshua beside you and threw his arm in the air. Waving someone over to your group. Forward stepped maybe the most beautiful man you had ever seen. The description 'Tall, dark and handsome' felt like it was made specifically for him. 

Alastor towered over the group but wasn't as lanky as most men his height could be. His broad shoulders and chest balanced him out significantly, creating a statuesque figure that made you think of the marble sculptures of gods and heroes from the old masters. He dragged his hand through his dark brown hair, which was tussled from all the dancing, and you silently wished that it was your hands dragging through his hair just so you could see if it felt as silky as it looked. 

He was dressed in a beautiful maroon-striped suit that wonderfully complemented his warm brown skin, and a small treacherous part of your mind wondered what colour his skin would take if you dragged your nails over his back or chest. 

As he got close enough to join the group, you finally saw his eye colour behind his round glasses. A rich brown that you knew would turn almost golden in the sunlight. The kind of brown eyes that the poets wrote about. A lover's gaze so sweet that it could heal any broken heart. Brown eyes as sweet as honey, brown eyes like a fire-lit light, brown eyes as rich as the depth of earth. He was mysterious, intoxicating, and your heart nearly skipped a beat when he looked down at you with his brilliant smile. 

"And who might this charming belle be? I don't think we've met before." 

You thought you were going to die the moment Alastor took your hand and placed a featherlight kiss on your knuckles as butterflies erupted in your stomach. Your name felt almost foreign on your lips, but oh so right, leaving his.

Behind you, you could hear your brother snort loudly before he playfully hit Alastors shoulder.

"Settle down; that's my little sister you're flirting with." That statement only made Alastor chuckle before he let go of your hand, and you instantly missed his warmth. 

"Alastor? I don't think I've heard your name on the radio. Are you a host or perhaps an audio engineer?" you asked, desperate to continue to talk to the man. 

Alastors smile only grew as he looked down at you. From the inside pocket of his suit, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

"I'm a host, my dear. I host the show after Joshuas," he said as he lit his cigarette and put it to his plush lips. You had to implore a tremendous amount of self-control not to openly stare at his lips and his long fingers as he held the cigarette between his index and middle fingers.

Even his hands are perfection, you thought in despair.

"The Evening Hour? Oh, I've heard about it! You play by far the best jazz in all of New Orleans." 

The smile Alastor gave you felt the most genuine he had made all evening. It made you wonder how often he had to smile to hide his true feelings. 

The rest of the evening went by in a haze as you continued to talk to Alastor, and it peaked when he asked you to accompany him to a dance. The lights felt brighter, the music forever tied to the memory of Alastor's hand between your shoulder blades. It was a moment in time when you forgot who you were and what life you were expected to live. 

For a moment, you were only a girl in the arms of a boy when an infatuation took root in your heart. But all nights end, even the ones that feel like dreams, and soon you were forced to say goodbye to the man with the bewitching smile and beautiful eyes as you and your brother prepared to go home. 

The road home was dark and cold as you walked through street after street. It felt lonelier than you expected, for Joshua did not say a single word to you. You hugged your too-thin summer coat around you as you and your brother took the backdoor through the kitchen to your home.

The room was dark and empty, just as both of you had suspected, and the only things you could see were the contours of objects in the light of the moon. Both you and Joshua quickly took off your shoes before you prepared yourselves to tip-toe through the big house. 

You were halfway through the kitchen when you heard Joshua whisper your name in the dark. You turned to look at your brother, who was still standing by the door.

"Don't ever talk to Alastor again."

"What? Why?" you asked, shocked because Joshua had never demanded anything of you before, but there was a coldness to his voice that you did not like. He had an odd look on his face that you had never really seen before, and it made you hesitate, for it matched the look your father usually had before taking his anger out on others.

With a forceful tone in his voice, your brother turned to you and said, "Just stay away from him. I can't quite put my finger on it, but there's something about him that makes me feel uneasy." It wasn’t a plea; it was a demand and the type of demand that left no room for negotiations.

He gave you a quick glance before hastily making his exit from the kitchen, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Joshua never invited you to the radio station after the celebrations, so you had no real reason to go over there and talk to Alastor. Days turned into weeks, and slowly, you had to accept that your one night with the man would only be that one magical night.

You had, however, no idea that your life would come crashing down on you. 

November the 3d, 1927

It has been two long weeks since Joshua went missing, and your mother was beyond distraught. She has secluded herself in her bedroom, allowing only food and drink to be brought in and refusing to speak to anyone else but you. The only words she utters were those of cold certainty - she knows Joshua is dead. But you and your father adamantly refuse to believe her words. 

Your father, who has always been a reserved and complicated man, had begun working longer and longer hours, dreading the thought of coming home to what remains of his family. Meanwhile, you were doing your best to keep the family functioning, but the constant worry and sleepless nights were taking their toll. 

You tried to hold onto hope that Joshua had just run away, finally fed up with your father's controlling behaviour. But deep down, you know that Joshua would never have left you behind. 

He had made you an important promise—to get you out of this town and as far away from your parents as possible. You clung to this promise even as the days dragged on with no news of Joshua's whereabouts. The uncertainty and fear were nearly unbearable, but you refused to give up hope.

November the 7th, 1927

The police came knocking on your family's door in the evening. You had taken the day off from work to care for your mother when one of the policemen you knew from the office asked to talk to your father. 

"He isn't home right now," you answered hesitantly. Your father hadn't been home in a few days, and you had no idea when he would come home again. You would call his office every evening to ensure he was all right, but from your short phone calls with your father, you could tell he was not doing well. 

"Do you know when he will be back?" the officer asked, giving you a look you knew all too well. You saw it all the time in the police station. It was the same sympathetic look newer officers would give families when they had only bad news to deliver.

Pushing your shoulders back, you took a deep breath and asked the question that you did not want the answer to.

"You've found Joshua's body, haven't you?"

 The officer heaved a sigh as he looked at you with heavy eyes. A bird could be heard singing its sorrowful song somewhere in the distance as you waited for your colleague's answer. 

"A part of Joshua's body was found about five miles outside of the city. Some hunters in the area found him." 

"A part?" you asked, shocked. "But if it was a body part you've found, how can you be sure it's Joshua's?" 

Your voice rose in pitch with every word you uttered. If only the police had found all of him. If only Joshua had run away and never returned. 

"His head. We have found his head." 

Ice-cold fear pierced your heart as a piece of your soul died right there, in the hallway of your family home on a Monday evening. Your father refusing to come home, a mother who would never be the same, and all you wished was that you were in New York. Far away from everything. 

"I'm sorry to inform you and your family, but your brother was killed by The Butcher."

The butcher, a serial killer who had hunted New Orleans for the past year. Always so far away, jet so near, and now he had spilt his filth all over your family. Destroyed and mutilated your lives. A demon among men. 

A demon whose shadow now towered over you, laughing at your weak soul. Laughing at your misery and sorrow. 

A monster and everyone knew that monsters were to be hunted like the animals they were.

You would see the end of the butcher if you so died trying.

A little flashback. Oh, how the wide-eyed wonder died fast.

Taglist: @martinys-world @tremendoushearttaco @fairyv-ice @azmosposts @nyx91

[muddyorbsblr]

reckless girl pt1

See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @holdmytesseract

Summary: When you didn't show up for your date with Magnus, the last place he thought he'd find you was inside the Ystad police station…in a holding cell

Pairing: Magnus Martinsson x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: talks of injuries; cliffhanger at the end

Things to be aware of: established relationship

"Why so glum, Martinsson? Not enough sleep?" Kurt clapped a hand on the curly blond haired detective's soldier, jerking him out of his worry spiral. "Girl trouble?"

Magnus lifted his chin from his joint fists, unable to iron out the furrow between his eyebrows. "Something like that…Y/N, my girlfriend. We were supposed to meet after my shift last night and she never showed. Hasn't called or texted either."

"Maybe she ghosted you, lad," Svedberg jested from his desk. "Had enough of the barflies clinging about you, did 'erself a favor."

"No," he said with conviction. "She wouldn't do that, that's not her." You'd been dating for long enough that he knew you wouldn't just disappear from his life with no contact like that. There was something else going on, there had to be. Another reason why you weren't at the restaurant last night. Another reason you weren't picking up your phone.

"Maybe try her again," Kurt offered. "If you still have nothing, you can always find a reason to patrol around her area and pay your girl a visit."

"Really? You won't be cross if I did?"

"For anyone else I'd suspend them on the spot if they attended to matters of the heart while on duty but I'd rather have the brightest bulb in the station actually functioning in the station, rather than have his mind wandering off to where his lady could be." He gave the younger detective a tight smile, knowing full well that had he been in Martinsson's spot, he'd be doing the same thing. "Try her again."

This time your phone rang twice before someone answered. "This is the Ystad holding area, and the owner of this mobile has been detained until--"

"Officer Jansen?"

"Detective Martinsson? Why are you calling--"

"Where's Y/N? This is her phone I've been trying to reach her since last night and--"

"Well last night a Ms Y/L/N was brought here for holding and we confiscated this phone off her person. Drunk and disorderly behavior," Jansen offered.

Just then another voice, your voice, spoke through the line. "Hey, the other guy was drunk and disorderly, it's not my fault the wanker couldn't fight!"

Magnus took a deep breath, a mix of both frustration and relief. Mostly the latter knowing now where you were exactly and that he would most likely see you in the next few minutes. "Jansen, I don't know what she did but I can guarantee you she probably had a good reason for it. Could you maybe…I dunno, let her off with a warning? I'll talk to her, make sure this doesn't happen again."

There was a deep sigh from the other end of the line before the officer spoke again. "Fine. She doesn't have a record, and the other guy seems to be too embarrassed to press charges seeing as he got his arse beat by a woman, so her name stays clean. But if this happens again--"

"It won't," he answered, a little less conviction in his tone. "Could you please send her here, though? I've been on edge since last night."

"Say no more, I'll have her there with an escort in a few minutes."

It didn't take long until another officer from the holding area stepped into the detectives area, and Magnus finally laid his eyes on you. And he saw red.

The second the officer uncuffed you, he was rushing over, placing his hands on your shoulders trying to assess the damage done. Your neck was red and purple, the skin of your knuckles split and bloodied, cuts and scrapes all over your face. There even seemed to still be specks of dirt in some of the wounds.

"Hello, sweetie," you spoke after a few moments of him taking stock of the injuries you sustained, wincing when you tried to give him a smile and it opened the wound on your lip that had only healed a fraction of the way the night before. "Sorry I couldn't make it to the restaurant--"

"Never mind that, darling," he waved off your apology, taking your hands in his and pressing his lips to the backs of your fingers, being careful not to touch any injured portion of your skin. "All I care about right now is that you're safe." He jerked his head over to his desk. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up. And then you can tell me what happened. Starting with who dared lay a hand and bloody up my precious angel's face like this."

"My sister Stella's in town and we went out straight after my shift to grab some drinks--Ach." You flinched at the stinging of the alcohol-soaked cotton round that he pressed to the cut on your cheek.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he sighed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, ignoring the teasing remarks from the other detectives on the floor as he tended to your wounds. "But we have to get these cleaned out so they don't get infected. We've already lost so much time since these just stayed as they were the entire time you were in that holding cell."

"I know I know," you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut when he resumed disinfecting the cuts. "It's not my first fight, you know. Still stings like a right bitch every bloody time, though."

He finished dressing the wounds on your face before moving to your cut and bruised knuckles. "Did no one even come to check on you before they booked you last night?" he grumbled, seeing the caked blood and dirt around these wounds as well.

"No. Everyone's attention was mostly on the other guy, making sure he got to the hospital safe and all that."

"Ah, so you're the mystery assailant," Kurt spoke up, walking up to Magnus' desk. "I just got off the phone with the hospital about some professional pick-up artist, whatever the shite that is, and how he refuses to press charges because if anyone knew what happened to him it'll ruin his image." He stuck out a hand toward you. "Kurt Wallander, I'm Magnus' supervising officer."

You gave him a little wave in response. "Not exactly how I pictured meeting Magnus' workmates, but I'll take it. Hi. Y/N Y/L/N, pleased to make your acquaintance. I'd shake your hand but--"

"I'll be quite cross with you if you split open your wounds over pleasantries, sweetheart," the blond detective butted in. He turned to his supervisor. "Hang on the case you were called to this morning? The assault victim? That was--"

"Hold on…if the wanker didn't press charges, does the word 'assailant' still apply to me?"

"Yes," both men said at once.

"But I'm willing to consider this a case deservedly closed since firstly, the pervert wanker chose not to press charges. And second, he's had it coming for a long while. Man's got an entire binder of reports for sleazeball behavior, but we just don't have the laws here yet to book someone for unjust vexation," Kurt told you both before addressing you directly. "Just don't make a habit out of getting detained or else I won't be able to do anything about the station giving your boyfriend grief over dating a 'bad girl'." He put the last bit in air quotes, jerking his head over at the desks of the jeering detectives on the other side of the floor.

"I'll do what I can," you shot back, scrunching your nose in place of a smile. "But in my defense, he was getting handsy with my sister and she's a little too peaceful and zen that the woman wouldn't hurt a fly, I had to."

"Careful, darling. Wallander here has a soft spot for the hero types, he might just issue you a gun," Magnus joked, finishing up on your knuckles and pressing a soft kiss to the bandages.

"Considering that the man you put in the hospital is just one in a large group of men doing much of the same?" the senior detective shot back. "I might just, might even give Linda one just to err on the side of caution and all that." He took a finger at you. "You be careful out there. Willing to bet my badge you ticked off a good few unstable men with egos bigger than their brain power. Some of them might be capable of a bit more than a few cuts and scrapes. And might be on the hunt for who put one of their own in casts and stitches."

"I'll keep safe. Thank you, Detective Wallander." You stood up and gave an awkward wave, making a motion to start walking out of the station. "I should get going. Wouldn't want to take up more of Magnus' time while he's at work."

That got the blond detective shooting out of his seat. "I'll see you out, then." He led you out the station, hand securely at your waist as he made sure you could walk properly. "Go straight home, tell your sister you're safe and you're not going to jail. And then tomorrow, how about we meet for breakfast after you've had some rest?"

"Yes, Sir," you answered playfully before throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a hug. "Thank you, Mags," you whispered in his ear before kissing his cheek. "I love you."

His heart caught in his throat at your words. You'd never said it first before. "I love you, too, little spitfire." He tucked his fingers under your chin, pressing a tender kiss to your lips before letting you go. "I'll see you in the morning."

Only when morning came, he sat at the restaurant near the station all alone, letting a whole hour pass before concluding that you weren't coming once again. Going off of what had transpired the day before, he showed up at the Ystad police station's holding area a good hour ahead of his shift, ready to try his luck at talking your way out of whatever situation you'd gotten yourself into.

"Morning, Martinsson," Jansen greeted him once the officer caught sight of the blond curls descending the stairs. "What brings you here so early--"

"Is Y/N here? Again?"

The officer began typing away at the system, giving commentary along the way. "She's a bit of a baddie, isn't she? Getting booked there twice in just as many days--Huh…" Jansen tilted his head in confusion at the information on the screen. "I don't see anything from last night's records. Maybe check the holding cells just in case? Sorry, Martinsson."

Magnus let out a sharp exhale, the frustration radiating off him in waves. "No worries. Thanks, Jansen." He set off toward the three holding cells they had in the station, only one of them being occupied by a drunk driver that was booked last night and was awaiting for his wife to bail him out. The other two were empty and clean as a whistle, no sign of anyone having even been there in the last 24 hours.

He picked up his phone and tapped on your name, his heart thundering in his ears as he waited for you to answer. "Please tell me you just slept in, sweetheart," he mumbled, his body already shaking with every second his call went unanswered.

But then the line got picked up, and his heart lodged itself in his throat.

"Hello?" The voice of a woman. But not yours.

"Who is this?" he nearly barked at the stranger's voice. "Where's Y/N?"

"I'm Stella, her sister, hold on who the hell are you?"

"Magnus, her boyfriend. Where's your sister? Why do you have her phone?" His tone became more impatient.

"She was supposed to meet me last night for dinner. Told me she needed to get some rest after what happened the other day that got her arrested," your sister explained, the answer making the detective even more panicked. "She never showed, figured she slept too long and I'd pick her up for some breakfast, but--" Her breath hitched on the other line, a jagged exhale coming through from her end as she composed herself. "She's not here. And the place is a mess. Hang on--If you're the boyfriend, you're the detective, right?"

"Y-Yes, yes I am." He could barely manage the words; he felt so hollow inside, dreading what words he would hear next.

"I'd like to report a crime, then," Stella spoke, her voice wavering as she tried to put up a brave front. "My sister's missing, there's blood on the floor. Someone's hurt my sister."

A/N: Eeeeeee I'm so excited to give this one to y'all! It's been a while since I started on another request and when I tell you that the words just started flying when I got into the vibe that this story was gonna give. I know I know…there's a cliffhanger…but there will be a part 2 in a few days and we're gonna see just what happened after YN left the station…

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

Magnus taglist: @vbecker10

[gaiathemexicanbeauty]

"what makes you think you can..?"

(bingo challenge prompt #2 :D)

pairing: re4!leon kennedy x gn!reader word count: 693 warnings: arguing? does that count idk, angst maybe??, mentions of ashley (my queen), leon throwing disses at you for sure, no kiss kiss :(, unrequited love?, leon's a man of few words yall

takes place during re4 :3

"what makes you think you can just walk away?"

leon's voice is icy, brimming with poison when you turn your back to ashley and him. there's no doubt in your mind that he has his gun aimed and at the ready where you stand at the bottom of the dirt path. "leon, stop-" "ashley, you've been amazing company but i can fight my own battles." you say firmly, slowly turning back to face leon to show you mean no harm towards them. "don't worry, i think you can drop the act by now." he says with a glare, rainwater glistening off of his gun and drenching the three of them. you only hum in response to that, looking over at ashley: it'd really only been a few days since you'd been tagging along with the pair, but the look ashley was giving you was like you'd just kicked her dog.

"what tips you off that i'm with the bad guys, hm? am i too friendly, too giving?" you say, crossing your arms against your chest as leon tightens his grip on his gun. he doesn't respond, just keeps glaring at you with this indiscernible look in his eyes. ah. you muster up as much face as you can, trying not to both relish in and repent the way you can sense his hurt from a mile away; maybe ashley was picking up on it, too, it would make more sense as to why she'd been so willing to bond with you while leon kept you at arms' length. "who will i tell, leon? who could i possibly working for that needs to know if the president's daughter gets home safe or where she is? i don't exactly see the locals welcoming me with hugs and kisses." you say, earning a scoff from leon that makes you swallow thickly. "something tells me this is a need to know basis. but i'm also not gonna end up being the one 6 feet under when i find out who needs to know."

you let out an incredulous laugh at that, shaking your head before smiling coldly up at leon; god, you wanted to smack that stupid gun out of his hands and shake him. "i bet you used to be fun at parties. i really don't know what else i can tell you to let me home free." you say, the three of you unmoving as thunder rumbles somewhere in the distance. leon seems to just stare at you (or through you) almost in shock though it's not evident on his face. his features falter for a second, one of those 'blink and you'll miss it' moments and then you see it: under the grime and rage and stress and years he'd never even been a shadow of a thought in your mind, you see him. the boy he'd told you only bits and pieces about that explored a strange city and a strange police station ravaged by destruction and gore. the boy who never had his famed first day. the boy who's job first and foremost was the protection of others.

the moment's gone before you have time to process it, watching leon put his gun away and turn on his heel in the opposite direction; anything you wanted to say was lost to him now. ashley is left to look between the two of you, unable to meet your gaze and her eyes meeting leon's back. "ashley, let's go." "leon-" "on me." ashley's lips part in shock a bit as leon keeps walking, not looking back even once. she looks over at you, worry obvious in her expression. you finally meet her eyes, giving her a smile that says 'what can you do?' and waving her off. she doesn't take her eyes off of you, walking hesitantly before eventually turning away to catch up to leon. you watch the two of them disappear behind a patch of trees, standing in the rain for a bit longer; you tell yourself it's to show him you won't follow them but if he glanced your way for even a second, you'd join them again in a heartbeat.

◦°˚\(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

I MISSED LEON KENNEDY SO BAD, he was actually going to be my first prompt but this one helped me create that sweet sweet drama

thanks for reading once again! im having such a good time writing for this challenge and being able to do small pieces instead of one big piece. i hope you all are enjoying it too! :3

next prompt:

one finds the other crying

PSSTT here's the link to the bingo masterlist to find all the prompts in one spot ;3