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kugokizs · 2 years

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DEVILISH | F. TOJI (m)

what was supposed to be a chill night alone turns into a fight for your life; Toji has been watching you, waiting for the best moment to strike, and he’s finally found the right time — but why are you so utterly enticing?

PAIRING: toji x fem! reader

WARNINGS: dub-con, serial killer!toji, predator and prey dynamics, mentions of murder/violence, breeding, mating press, degrading, mentions of stalking, morally grey character, dumbification, size kinkkkk, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, pussy eating, oh and they have sex outside… on the ground. lmk if i’m missing anything !!!

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

A/N: i honestly can’t remember if i based this off scream or scary movie but toji is a serial killer !! pls be advised, view at your own risk, pls my loves, keep yourself safe!! send me an ask or reblog if you enjoyed !! tysmm.

NOW PLAYING: all i need by lloyd, one night only by sonder, devilish by chase atlantic, & skin by rihanna.

Toji Fushiguro is a very sinister man.

He holds grudges, is very keen on practicing “eye for an eye”, and he holds dear his power over weak, vulnerable, young women. He prowls for the pleasure of it, for the thrill — to hear them beg for mercy, for one more chance. They beg on their knees as if he’s a God, the bringer of all evil, the grim reaper, the devil himself. And, Toji thinks, maybe he is. After all, who else could invoke such fear in people. Who else could cause someone to shiver just at the mention of his name? To run for the hills at any sign of danger. Who else could do what he does? No one, and that’s what makes him enjoy it even more.

Toji Fushiguro is a very sinister man, and right now he has his eyes on you. It’s been months, bumping into you at the grocery store, handing you things that you’ve dropped accidentally, holding the door open for you, dropping food on your doorstep — he’s seen it all. Late nights with friends, early morning at university, skipping lunch to study in the library… Toji has been there. Watching, waiting, prowling. Ever since the first time he saw you he’s wanted you, to add you to his ever growing collection, to keep you, to make you his. You’re his. And the only one between you both who didn’t know that yet, was you.

He has a foot buried in your grass, a cap hanging low on his head and a knife tucked inside his jacket. He makes sure to move with precision, watching out for the automated sprinklers and for any animals that might come looking. After all this time he knows the routine well. He knows when you’re staying home all night, what time you usually shower, when you eat, everything. He knows you’re a naturally anxious person, jumping at any sudden movements or noises, and he also knows you’re careless. Blasting music on flimsy headphones, falling asleep to the sound in your ear, oblivious to the world around you. Oblivious to the devil creeping on your doorstep.

He crouches down low, your blinds open just enough that he can see you plopped down on your couch with a bowl of ice cream in hand and a silly movie playing on the TV. Your legs are curled up, oversized pajama pants falling over the soles of your feet, and your attention solely on what’s playing in front of you. Toji’s been inside your house before, on the rare days where he wasn’t following you around he made his way through the place, memorizing the layout, seeing which rooms were the most lived-in, taking his time to appreciate your bedroom and all it had to offer. Drawers upon drawers of lingerie greeted him when he peaked inside — he didn’t think you had it in you. His fingerprints would’ve been all over the place if not for gloves, his face on every camera if he hadn’t known all the blindspots. And thank God you didn’t have cameras inside, because then it’d only make it harder for him, and if you wanted something a little less painful when your time was up, it was best you didn’t piss him off.

Though Toji thinks he might play with you a bit. You’re interesting, just anxious enough to get by yet careless and reckless enough to get caught in a stupid situation. You’re pretty — innocent in the sexiest way possible. You look like you’d go dumb for a taste of his cock and that’s exactly what he likes most about you, but he knows you’ve got a good head on your shoulders and he appreciates that, too.

The moon shines a ghastly glow over his features right as the end credits of the movie start to run, and that’s when he decides it’s time to play. He picks up a smooth, round, pebble — no bigger than a quarter, and throws it so that it hits the window pane. He crouches down just the smallest bit lower, eyes peeking over the blinds and he trusts the darkness to obscure him. He knows that you won’t ever get close enough to actually look through them, and he’s right. Always so easily frightened, like a little lamb. You freeze where you’re sitting, head whipping around to look at where the sound came from, and you pause for only a few moments, watching and waiting to see if it comes again. At least a minute passes before you turn back to the TV, curling in on yourself and tucking your lip between your teeth.

Toji can barely stifle the giggle that threatens to leave his lips, it feels like childish glee watching you get so scared from a measly little rock against your window, but he does it again, throwing it harder now, and the sound echoes so loudly that he can hear it bounce back from inside your living room. This time you stand up, looking back towards the window and stepping forward, head tilting downwards as you try to see through the blinds. You squint at the glare from your lights and otherwise stay silent. Toji is sure your heart is beating erratically, your hands starting to shake, and he thanks God that you have so many windows. You don’t sit back down, instead looking around the room and muting the TV. You stay like that for a long time, you’ve always been so overly paranoid, and it fills Toji with immense satisfaction to know that he’s the one doing this to you.

He walks away from the window, allowing you to rotate methodically on uneasy feet and a rapidly beating heart, creeping around to the back door and picking the locks. He’s already deactivated the back camera and dropped a cat by your front porch so it didn’t seem too suspicious that you weren’t getting alerts. He knows that’s it’s rare anything ever triggers the back camera, and you feel too secure with the gate locking it from the outside. He’s easily bypassed those barriers, and now he simply opens the door. He knows you have sensors to tell you when the door has been open and shut, and he didn’t bother shutting those off. He wants to see how scared you can really get.

He shuts the door and slips into the closet, covering his lone figure with various jackets and scarves that hang from the hooks. There’s boxes and bottles of cleaning supplies piled at the bottom, and they block his legs from view. He’s still, silent, and patient. He hears your footsteps rushing towards the door, your heavy breathing, your frantic whispers of “Oh God,” and his eyes all but roll back in undeniable pleasure. He’s going to ruin you.

Your footsteps get nearer before they stop, you’re most likely looking through the window of the now closed back door, hands trembling and knees weak in fear. You’re probably on the verge of tears, barely holding in a whimper. He doesn’t hear you step away, but he can see your shadow from under the door. Hmm. You’re trying to be cautious now, are you? Toji already knows this routine. You’ll run to grab your phone, call someone, try to get in your car and drive away. Maybe grab a large kitchen knife just in case, but what are the chances of you actually using it? Toji has practice, he’s skilled, he’s used to this. You, a lone studious girl who’s paranoid but way too careless for her own good, has never stabbed anyone in her life. Has never even imagined it, so what’s the chances of you dropping the knife before it can even plunge into him? Maybe trying to get away with a scratch in the arm or a stab to the leg, but Toji has enough scars for that to not even matter. He’ll keep coming and there’ll be nowhere for you to hide.

But he’s gonna let you try, let you think there’s a chance for you to run for the hills, maybe get to some help in time, he’ll let that relieved smile flit itself upon your face before he comes back to rip that hope from your body, just to do it all over again until the fight leaves you completely. Maybe he’ll let you reach someone in time, someone innocent, and then kill them right in front of you. Make sure you realize that this is your fault, you did this, you put this innocent person in danger. You murderer. You killed them. You.

Toji realizes he has a lot to think about.

Your chest pounds with the rapid beating of your heart. Your legs barely hold your weight and threaten to crumble with every movement, shaking every time you stop and wobbling uncontrollably when you run. You grab a knife from the kitchen counter and run back to the living room and grab your phone. It all started with the random sounds coming from the window. They came out of nowhere, pounding harder and harder until they stopped completely. You had thought you saw someone moving behind the blinds but chalked it up to paranoia. It’s been raining a lot more recently, so maybe it was just the rain pouring down onto the windows.

You tried to go back to your movie after that, you had clutched your phone tightly despite reassuring yourself multiple times that it was nothing. There was nothing there. You were almost able to relax. Almost, before your security system alerted you of the back door opening. At that moment it felt like your heart had lurched out of your chest, as if the shock and fear had paralyzed and crippled you completely. The silence was suddenly too thick — too loud, and it was all you could do to attempt to heave yourself up and off the couch to investigate. You already knew you should never venture deeper, never look for the source of the sound, but you needed to see.

When you got to the back door it was already shut. You’d ventured on tippy toes to look through the small window and there was nothing there. Yet you couldn’t stop the way your breath left you in heavy gasps, the acrid smell of fear and anxiousness seeping from you in waves. You didn’t forget the closet right in front of the door, but you knew you’d never be able to open the door without shaky limbs. If there was someone in there, you’d let them leave of their own accord. You were leaving immediately. You slowly stepped away, looking up to the ceiling and clutching your lip tightly between your teeth. Sweat formed at the top of your mouth and you felt like you were going to throw up. Your throat ached, your stomach was in knots, and you felt like you could collapse at any second.

You crossed the living room with amble speed, grabbing a jacket from the hook by your front door and running outside. Rain dropped down in an angered flurry, beating the pavement with troubled fists, and your shoes were soaked with water before you could fully cross your front lawn. You scrambled to get the car door open, throwing yourself inside ungracefully. The first thing you did was look in the backseat before locking the doors and wasted no time taking off out your driveway and into the streets. You wanted to play music, blast it even, it was what calmed you always and without it you were leaving yourself vulnerable to the fear you’d been trying to ignore. You’d be able to get away — far, far, away — and sometime in the future you’d forget this night ever happened. You’d contact the authorities, move somewhere tropical maybe, and pray they never came looking.

The fear was slowly starting to easen, there were no cars following you, no weird men in the road, nothing but the stars and the moon and the lone sound of rain. You were slowly starting to relax, allowing yourself to take a few deep breaths, before a hazard sign started blaring on your dashboard.

Flat tire.

Flat tire?

You kept driving, desperate for a few more miles between you and home, but your car didn’t appreciate that, and you came to a stop. A fear-mongering, bone-chilling, stop.

You couldn’t afford to waste time, you had to keep moving. You jumped out the car, a tight grip on your knife in one hand and your phone in the other. Your feet splashed in large puddles, the streets lined with thick trees that had never looked so imposing until now. A quick look around told you that you were alone, but you couldn’t be sure. You kept moving, rushing but not moving too fast where the sounds of your splashing would drown any other noises out. Your hand curled tightly on the knife as if it was a lifeline, and your phone was inside your pocket — kept safe from the rain. Streetlights shined down from above, blinding white lights that illuminated the entire area before you, and you were grateful for it but loathed it all at the same time. Bright lights mean you could see everything around you, but it also meant anything around could see you too.

Your breath was shaky, every exhale felt like it would be your last, but you didn’t stop moving. The brushing of trees or a snap of a branch would make you jump and squeal in fear just to see it was a product of the wind or your own feet pressing against wood. Ahead you could see the shadows of houses, loud and imposing in structure, and your legs carried you faster with a new found determination. Your vision was blurry with tears of relief and raindrops that sat on your eyelashes, just to be blocked by something — something warm and soft, something sturdy, something breathing.

You couldn’t help the shrill scream that left your lips, but it was drowned out by the storm anyway. You stomped hard on his boot and sliced, not sure if you hurt him but giving yourself a chance to run away. Your legs pumped with adrenaline, your eyes wide in fright. Your grip on the knife only got even tighter, your nails embedding themselves lightly in your palm, but you had to keep going. Any noises became muffled as you ran, the sounds of trees rustling in the wind, rain slapping against the pavement, your feet slamming against the ground. His own feet moving leisurely behind you. It all became nothing but background noise to the pounding of your heart.

“There you are, little lamb.”

The whimper that leaves your lips has Toji grinning in delight. He surges forward, trapping you between strong arms and a broad chest, pressing against you tightly and dragging you backwards. You claw at his arms, kick your feet, and use the knife to slash at any part of his body that you could. You didn’t make it easy, and you could hear him growl in frustration. He tipped the knife out of your hands and then gripped your arm with a frightening intensity, you bit your lip to stop the cry of pain from leaving your mouth.

“Stop fighting.”

“Ugh, get off me!” You cried, and you bit at the skin of his arm, hard, and he pushed you off, allowing you to fall flat on your back. You groaned, rolling over on your side before a dark shadow loomed over you. You winced, your eyes shutting in fear before strong fingers gripped your chin.

“Not so fiesty anymore? We were having lots of fun,” He cooed, a devilish grin forming on his — and you hate to say it — near perfect features. The only blemish on his face was the small scar over his lips, and even that made him look attractive. You lost your breath for a short moment, staring into unforgiving eyes and at pearly white teeth, before you came back to your senses and jerked your knee upwards into a firm abdomen. When the man didn’t even bother to pretend to be hurt you did it again, but this time you used your hands to push him backwards as well. He stumbled just a little, but it was enough for you to jump to your feet and start running back in the direction you came.

“You’ll stop if you know what’s good for you,” The man grumbled, but you didn’t stop moving. You wouldn’t. You didn’t bother screaming for help this time and ran straight through unforgiving trees and underbrush. You weren’t worried about getting lost anymore and could only focus on losing him and getting away.

Except he must’ve known, because gone was the leisurely pace he’d originally held. He ran through the trees with crippling speed, and it was all you could do not to yelp in fear and keep moving. But it didn’t seem like any speed you took was fast enough, for he kept getting closer and closer. It was just your luck that you’d trip over the roots of a large tree, falling flat on your face. You attempted to scramble backwards before he could reach you, but your limbs were growing tired, your brain was ready to shut off, and not even the adrenaline could keep the paralyzing fear from your veins. you whimpered as a large hand grabbed at your ankle, dragging you through the mud and leaves.

“Come on, little lamb, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

All you could do is bite your lip to stop the whimpers and cries from flooding out. You squeezed your eyes shut, stiffening when soft lips brushed against your skin. “We can have fun, can’t we?” He murmured, and your breath left you in a shudder. Calloused hands rubbed against the skin exposed by the lift of your shirt, and small puffs of breath knocked against the shell of your ear. “Do you wanna have fun?”

Your heart kicks up an irritating notch when he slides a warm hand up your shirt. You can feel the way his fingers ghost over your skin with an unnatural intensity, as if his touch is amplified tenfold.

“Look at me, pretty,” He growls, your eyes opening at his command against your better judgement. His pupils are dilated, staring down at you with desire. The way he looks at you is an awakening, and with a foreign feeling surging through you, you bury your fingers into the collar of his shirt, bringing him down for a kiss. It’s a little awkward with your apprehension, your fear, your desire to just give up — all teeth and clumsy movements until he takes the lead. He licks into your mouth, coaxing feelings out of you you've never felt before— kissing you into blissful dizziness.

"I wonder why you're so pretty, hm? Been torturing me for months, sweet thing," He hums, pressing your thighs apart, tongue pushing against yours, his lips cherry red. You want to kiss him again.

Your breath hitches when his hands move to your pants, slipping under the hem and unbuttoning the fabric. When he pulls your pants down slowly, so slowly it feels like time stands still, all that’s on your mind is him. His breathing, his touch, the cold feeling of his fingers. When your pink, lacy panties come into view the chuckle Toji lets out is so deep it feels like a heavy blanket over your mind, soothing you yet igniting something in you that you didn’t know existed. God, you’re in the demon's bed but you feel like you’ve gotten a taste of heaven, and when those soft, cherry red lips ghost over your skin, trailing over your pelvis, leaving light kisses along your skin, all you can do is jerk in his hold.

"Pretty little lambs deserve to know what it feels like to have me right here,” Toji starts, leaning down to press a trail of kisses to your inner thigh. He bites and marks along the fleshiest parts, chuckling at your quiet whimpers and yelps. He slides a hand up between your thighs and rubs between your folds, still covered by your lacy panties. “Aren’t you scared?” Toji murmurs, before splitting them to rub your clit through the fabric. You feel like falling as he circles between your thighs, a gasp hiccupping at the base of your throat before it gets stuck— you can’t make a sound.

You faintly hear the rustle of clothing and the absence of Toji’s touch, opening your eyes to see him pulling his shirt off, biceps flexing as he does. He’s so big, and fuck, his whole body could cover your own if he really wanted. He towers over you, caging you in and surrounding you from all sides. When his shirt is off and thrown somewhere to the floor, he looms over you, his hands pressing into the bedding at either side of your head, and all you can do is gasp— your eyes widening at his proximity.

You allow him to pull your underwear down until they’re hanging off your ankle, your arousal sticks to the fabric, but with a flick of his wrist they’re gone. They’re gone. Oh god. You’re really doing this. You take a deep breath, and when a warm hand comes to press against your cheek you yelp. It’s okay. You’re okay. Right?

Soft lips press against your skin, tainting the unmarked flesh with bites and bruises. He paints your neck purple and blue, fingers ghosting between your thighs, tracing and playing with the obvious wetness coating your arousal. His mouth travels upwards, pressing against your own as he claims your lips in a devouring kiss. Everything is on fire, hot and burning as lust begins to entirely consume you.

A small moan slips past your lips as he dips a finger into your slick, warm cunt, and you clench around the digit almost immediately as instinct. The cool air and your nerves make your thighs tremble, but it doesn’t seem to affect him— not at all— if the way he keeps eye contact with you while he fingers you slowly is any indicator. Painfully slow. You don’t know if this is to pleasure you or torture you, and you can’t help the way your thighs tense under his ministrations.

His eyes roam over the look on your face, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, bright eyes glazed over and hooded in a bliss that’s otherwise foreign to you, a particular ease directed towards him. Then he shamelessly lets his eyes drop down to your thighs that tremble even harsher under his gaze. The action only forces his mind to run wild. He can’t help but wonder how you do it— looking all innocent— being all innocent but acting like you’re not. Like you’re so sure. You’re confused, God, you don’t know what real pleasure is— and it’s Toji’s job to teach you. Fuck, did he want to be under you, gazing up at you through half lidded eyes, hungrily eating up the sight of you bouncing on his cock like the slut you could be.

He dipped his head down, and your hands automatically perched themselves on his shoulders, and he grins, moving the finger thrusting into your cunt harsher, faster.

“Oh, god,” You moaned, loud, your grip on his bare shoulders tightening ever so slight. His skin was warm under your fingers— soft and smooth and fuck if it didn’t feel good.

He groaned, cock stiffening more than it already had. At this rate he was probably going to cum in his pants untouched, but he held himself back. He moved his mouth from yours to slip lower, down lower and lower still until he came face to face with your arousal.

“Fuck. You’re driving me crazy.”

You tried to quiet your moans by clamping a hand over your mouth, but sitting up and watching the way he sucked and licked at your arousal made your head spin. He made the action so nasty. So filthy. He was wild yet careful. But what did you know? All you knew was that it was driving you insane and you didn’t know anything could feel this good.

One hand supported his weight on the ground by your head while the other was preoccupied, curled around his cock as he stared down at you— something akin to a beast in his gaze. Tip reddened and precum oozing from the slit while he groaned. The tingly feeling in your groin was coming back, similar to the fluttering you always felt whenever a boy you liked would come bother you. It intensifies when Toji wraps your legs around his waist and pulls you closer to him, your body dragging grass from under you.

He rubs the tip of his cock against your pussy, teasing actions feeling more like torture before he finally sinks in. Slowly, deliberately, but you still tense. It’s scary, having something stick itself inside of you. Having him stick himself inside you.

“Relax,” Toji murmurs, pressing his mouth to your cheek. “You’re having fun, right?”

Dark eyes are locked intensely on your cunt, Toji watching the slide of his cock as he thrusts inside. His hair is plastered along his forehead, and he sinks back into your inviting walls with another roll of his hips.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.”

You moan, high and light, your eyes fluttering closed in bliss while Toji’s chest expands with a satisfied breath. He rolls his hips into yours— sinking his cock into your cunt saying the filthiest words you’ve ever known, before his words break off into a moan, his tone lower and deeper.

“Oh, please don’t stop— be nice to me,” You babble, your hands grabbing at whatever you can— his shoulders, his back, his hair; and that’s all it takes before he suddenly takes up a pace that’s a little faster, rougher as your pussy squelches, wet and messy while your arousal smears along your thighs and the ground below you.

Your body jolts with each thrust, pussy clenching around him as Toji moans—every twitch and squeeze of your pussy leaving him breathless. “Come on, little lamb,” He groans, and you don’t know what to do. You’re too lost in the haze of pleasure that’s taken over you— you can’t hear past the slap of your skin and his groans in your ear. You know you’re moaning, but you can barely hear yourself. It’s all him. Him all over you, surrounding you, making you feel good.

He grunts as you clench down on him with another roll of his hips, sinking deeper into you with each thrust. “That’s it, pretty,” he grunts, “Taking me so well, fuck. So greedy for me.” And you tense up, your body convulsing and arching upwards as his thrusts grow more frantic— harsher and harsher as he groans gutturally in your ear with one last thrust long and deep, and when something shoots deep inside, you shiver one last time before your body sinks into the grass and debris and Toji’s weight cases you in.

You feel boneless, lethargic with your movement. You feel when the man gets off you, when he closes your legs after slipping your underwear back on. You hear it when he sighs, something deep and satisfied, and you barely manage to answer when he asks you how you feel. Yet, somehow, it all comes back to you in a flash. You sit up, head throbbing, and stare up at him. Wide-eyed and fearful.

“Please don’t kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel.”

He grins, “I think we can work something out.”

a/n: excuse the corny ending i couldn’t help myself

#toji x you #jujutsu toji #toji smut #toji x y/n #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #toji drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji scenarios #toji x female reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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dazaiandhislovelybandages · 5 months

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My Girl {Dabi} (pt 2)

A/n: I wasn't originally planning on writing a part 2 on this one but the comments and the reblogs were asking for a part 2 so here it is. Hopefully those of you who asked it, will actually like it. For those of you who haven't read it, here is Part 1

Pairing: Dabi/ Toua Todoroki x fem!civilian!reader

Trigger warning: mentions of death, fire, slightly suggested, mentions of a creepy looking dude but nothing further than that, mentions of scars

From that day on a few things changed. Dabi was sleeping in his apartment more often. He hadn't mentioned you touching yourself to the thought of him again, not that you had actually talked to him again after that day.

"Doll..." You heard his voice through the paper thin walls of your bedroom. You had been laying on your bed, one week after your unexpected yet fateful meeting with him, getting ready to fall asleep.

"What?" You turned your head to the side, pressing your cheek against the wall so he could actually hear you. If the layout of his apartment was the same as yours then his bedroom was where he was at the moment.

"Moan for me, come on."

Oh you were so lucky that he couldn't see the blush on your face and the way your eyes widened immediately upon hearing his suggestive words. If your ears weren't deceiving you then he was most probably chuckling, thriving from teasing you.

"Shut it." You weren't sure what had given you the confidence to talk to one of the most dangerous villains like that but then again, he was pushing your limits with this. If you had known that the walls were so thin or that you were a little too loud then you would have never indulged in your desires.

But what was done, was done. You couldn't do anything to take it back.

"Oh I have become quite the greedy bastard, doll."

"You act like a starved man."

"How can I not?" He let out a breathy chuckle. Really how thin were those shitty walls? "It's not often a girl treats me like a human being."

There was something in his words. Not sarcasm, not honesty. You couldn't quite pinpoint it but the way he said 'human being' was a little... off. As if he didn't believe it.

Nevertheless, you didn't respond, slowly getting out of your comfortable and warm bed to start getting dressed. It was past midnight and even though you had tried to ignore the growling sounds of your stomach, too tired and bored to cook, you couldn't take it anymore.

The pace with which you brushed your teeth and wore new clothes was a fast one. It was extremely cold and the air condition in your apartment was broken to the point where it only produced cold air.

In a matter of five minutes, you were walking towards the nearest convinience store, a small -almost tiny- building. You rarely went there, unless you actually couldn't avoid it. Located at the end of the narrow alley, a straight line from where your apartment building was, was the tiny and creepy looking convinience store. The only source of light was the cold tone faint lamp inside the store -practically a horror movie setting.

The old man working there was almost half asleep, not even paying attention to the costumers walking in or if they were paying for what they were buying or straight up stealing. You couldn't help but feel bad for him, feeling sorry that he didn't have a second employee to work the night shifts and that his store was so scary looking that almost no one walked in.

Not wanting to distrub his sleep, you walked straight towards the aisle with the instant noodles hoping to find something that could ease your hunger.

Normally you wouldn't have to browse so much because the store you usually went to had way more options which included your favourite but here the options were quite limited.

That was when you felt someone staring at you. At first you thought it was Dabi -with how deeply the old man at the counter was sleeping he could have easily walked in unnoticed. You were going to ignore it. Not wanting your encounters with him to become more awkward than they already were.

And so you did. But the feeling that someone was straight up stalking you continued and something in you screamed that if it was Dabi then he would have said something already. Yet... how well did you actually know that man? Apart from the information provided by the news and the internet, you knew nothing. Well he loved cats but that was it. Would he really speak to you or would he just wait until you were scared shitless and then tease you endlessly? You didn't know.

Dabi was a villain after all. Villains lie.

"I would never hurt you my ass." You mumbled under your breath and grabbed the first pack of noodles, ready to leave when you noticed that the old man was not in he counter anymore. That was when it settled in, that feeling that you were being watched.

There was a new man on the counter, whatever his quirk was his face resembled the face of a bird and it was so unsettling. From the way this man's eyes were placed basically at the sides of his face to the way his nose was huge. Everything made you scared.

Placing the exact amount of money the noodles cost on the counter, you managed to pull your shit together and actually walk out of the store. You had seen that man before. His face was on wanted posters across your neighbour and even though you hadn't stop to check his crimes, you could tell that he was dangerous.

Where had that old man gone?

You ran back to your apartment, quickly locking the door behind you and setting the noodles on the kitchen table before heading to the bedroom to change back in your pyjamas.

Just when silence had fallen upon the apartment, the only sound being the water being boiled for the noodles, you heard a knock on your door. Standing frozen above the boiling water, you prayed that whoever was outside would leave.

"Doll it's me. Open up before the police finds me because I did a very bad thing."

Dabi's voice was the last thing you had expected to hear... theoretically because in practice... you didn't talk to anyone else in the building.

The smell of smoke and ash filled the living room when Dabi walked in. "There you are, why don't you help with my stapples hm?"

"I thought you were next door." You asked confused, trying to make sense of why he was in your apartment and why his skin was falling off at some places.

"I was." He looked back at you, clearly amused by how confused you were. A small smirk found its place on his face and removed his boots before laying down on the couch. "But then you stopped responding, I heard the door open and I thought I should follow you. And you will be surprised now, doll, there was a creepy guy following you as well."

"That I know." You mumbled removing the pot from the stove and pouring the hot water in the cup of noodles. "He is at the convinience store."

"Was." A small pause followed with you looking at the noodles with wide eyes. "He was at the store. He is not anymore." There was this eerly nonchalant tone in his voice.

"What do you mean... was?" You slowly turned around to face him, almost offended at how he was laying on your couch with his arms behind his head.

"There is no convenience store there anymore. And thus there is no creepy looking guy ogling at my girl on this planet, anymore."

Needless to say that you were dumbfounded. You couldn't even find the words or figure out if you should feel scared or honoured that someone did this for you.

"You burnt the guy-"

"The convenience store." He quickly corrected you.

"What about the old guy?"

"That creepy looking dude um..." He didn't have to say more. You were a little shocked.

"Why?"

"You took care of my scars..." He said, his deep voice barely above a whisper. "And that dude deserved it okay? He had been mocking the League for quite some time now. And if I hadn't burnt him, Shigaraki would have turned him into ash." He paused again. "That's not the point though. No one bothers my girl, that's all."

A/n: DABI DARK ROMANCE LET'S GO

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indierpgnewsletter · 6 months

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The problem with asking if games are art is that the answer can be as simple and as complicated as you have time for. In some sense, anyone trying to be stingy about what qualifies as art is fighting a battle that was decided a long time ago. Today, anything can be art if you're willing to give it your attention and let it move you.

The more interesting question when it comes to tabletop games is, which art are you talking about?

The most common is the art in the books - beautiful illustration and beautiful writing that makes an RPG book an “art book”. I was recently posting on the site formerly known as twitter about how momatoes’ ARC was a work of art. As evidence, I posted screenshots of the PDF. The pages were filled with art, words, and layout that was dark but not scary, a kind of modern fairytale aesthetic that hints at hidden depths. Like a sculpture where marble looks like cloth, it's a feat of technical skill that can both humble and inspire you.

Then, there's the art of playing RPGs. This is a tricky one because there’s lots of things this isn’t: this isn’t acting, this isn’t the same as performing in an actual play. It’s adjacent to performance but not exactly the same and its importance varies across playstyles. But if comedy is an art, then people are busting their gut laughing in their games. If drama is an art, well, often it’s much more moving when someone you know adds the slightest quiver to their voice than when someone in a movie bursts into tears in the rain as a violin plays in the background. Sometimes its just knowing who or when to pass the ball to, and doing it deftly.

And then, there’s the art of design. Which I think Robin Laws referred to as “the hidden art”, though that is probably a little controversial. It’s not exactly writing, it’s more about what or how to write. It’s not exactly the sum total of everything that goes into a book. In some games, the bulk of the design is just the premise. The rest is left to the players. In some games, it’s carefully choreographed ritual. Eithery way, like all art, most of it will leave you cold but some of it can grab you and change you.

(This was originally published in the indie rpg newsletter.)

#ttrpg #ttrpg community #ttrpg design #art criticism #indie rpg

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malusokay · 2 years

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Autumn bucket list

Go apple picking. I've been obsessed with Apples lately.

Thrift some cute and cosy sweaters. Those cute 'grandpa sweaters' you know? :)

Make a Pumpkin or Apple pie. Yummy.

Have a hot chocolate date with friends. S'mors seem fun too, but I've never tried them!

Watch scary movies. I kinda hate scary movies ngl, haha.

Carve cute pumpkins. Don't hurt yourself tho.

Buy an Autumn scented candle. I love the Yankee ones

Change Phone/IPad theme. It's so much work but ill be worth it.

Get dark red nails. Autumn classic, am I right?

Go for a walk at night. spookyyy...

Jump in a pile of leaves. Unless you live in a rainy area like me, lol.

Eat Pumpkin soup. My fav for cold weather.

Bake cinnamon rolls from scratch. Tried and failed, will try again tho!

Visit a farmers market. You can take some cute pics there too!

Host a family game night. Unless your family sucks. You can also do this with friends <3

Learn how to knit/crochet. I crochet my dog a sweater, and she hates it :(

Buy some new books. I just bought 'The Secret History'!

Make your room cosy. Fairy lights, blankets, candles...

Buy some cute loungewear. Any brand recommendations??

Visit a corn maze. Try not to get lost.

Make an autumn playlist. Feel free to share the link in the comments! <3

Harry Potter marathon. Another classic.

Buy a new and warm hat. I want a fluffy one.

Change social media layout. I just changed my Twitter! Should I update Tumblr too?

Read and annotate a book. Or more than one depending on how cool you are, lol.

Visit a pumpkin patch. aaaanother classic haha.

Lots of cosy coffee dates. I've never had a pumpkin spice latte.

Visit the countryside. I'm revisiting Norways soon (Oslo and the countryside), and I'm so excited!!

Please feel free to add more suggestions in the comments! <3

✩‧₊*:・love ya ･:*₊‧✩

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ghostytoad · 7 months

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🎃 ROTTMNT Halloween Headcanons 🎃

Haunted House Edition

Summary: The gang go to a scare attraction/haunted house. Headcanons for: Raph, Donnie, Leo, Mikey, April, Cassandra, & Casey Jr

CW: panic attack/ptsd mention, v mild violence(?), overall spooky vibes

Raph:

is a big baby when it comes to scare attractions/haunted houses

tries to worm his way out of their plans every year

goes anyways bc mikey needs someone big to cling onto & raph can't say no to his baby brother

has all of the exit locations memorized in case he needs to make a quick escape (aka run away)

has never made it to the end

will usually tap out at the halfway point

has the highest pitched scream out of all of them

never admits he's the one screaming tho

accidentally k.o. punched a scare actor one year after they jumped out at him

he cried and apologized to the poor actor for hours after that

still feels bad abt it to this day

Donnie:

is thoroughly unimpressed by all the theatrics

will only tag along to watch & record raph and mikey running away

the only scary thing here is the abundant use of pyrotechnics and the stark lack of fire exits

makes it to the end every times

goes into a long rant about the science of fear and how misused it was afterwards

can predict where every scare actor is/when they'll pop out with scary accuracy

once stayed behind after closing & redid the layout to "improve" the scare factor

he also reprogrammed a few animatronics & amplified the pyrotechnics

things did not go as planned at all

he's now banned from every scare attraction in new york

still sneaks in tho

Leo:

scare attractions? total walk in the park for this guy

sure, he gets scared a few times but he thrives on the adrenaline rush

will tease raph and mikey about their fear stink the entire time

sometimes likes to portal behind a few hiding scare actors and scare the living shit out of them

once snuck into a scare attraction after closing and stole a ms. cuddles prop

hid it under raph's bed (and gave the poor turtle a heart attack)

post-movie: the worst part about scare attractions are the slithery/tentacle monsters

his brothers make sure to cover his eyes & stay on guard for him

he's never backed out once

but he did have a panic attack one year when a kraang-looking monster came out at him

donnie had to carry him the rest of the way after he refused to tap out

Mikey:

is scared easily but loves the thrill of getting scared

has to convince raph that he's old enough to go with them every time they make plans

put on his cockiest brave-face standing when they're waiting in line

will cling to raph as soon as they go in tho

won't admit he's scared until raph (inevitably) runs away without him

taps out usually near the end

not bc he's scared at all, no!

he's just worried abt raph is all

he totally didn't scream and run away

will approach scare actors afterwards and gush about their costumes and makeup

sometimes helps april with her halloween makeup

only made it to the end once; he had his eyes closed the entire time

so it doesn't really count even tho he insists that it so does count

April:

loves scare attractions!! halloween is her holiday, baby!!

usually the first one to make plans to go to a haunted house

works as a scare actor some years

absolutely loves every minute of it

ignores donnie's suggestions on how to improve her scares

not bc they aren't great ideas, some of them just aren't "legal"

knows where all the best scares are & is friends with most of the scare actors in the area so they get "unlimited rides"

was fired one year for stealing a few scare props to bring home

now has leo help portal her in to steal more props

makes it to the end of every attraction with a huge grin on her face and an upbeat attitude

nothing can scare this girl!

except maybe long lines.....

Cass:

haunted house? is that like.... a code word for something?

the gang tried taking her to a haunted house one year

now they all have a lifetime ban there

she wouldn't stop attacking the poor scare actors

"CASS, NONE OF THIS IS REAL! PUT THE TEENAGER DOWN AND LET GO OF THE SCYTHE!!"

she's still new to the concept of haunted houses

but she's trying

she's determined to "beat" the attractions and make it all the way to the end

but she's usually kicked out for beating up another scare actor

she's getting better at it tho

prefers haunted mazes bc they give her a chance to practice her stealth skills

Casey Jr:

the boy grew up in the apocalypse so he's always on edge

scare attractions probably aren't the best for him

has never hit anyone but will dodge and weave all scares like its an obstacle course

usually carries his weapon and is always prepared for an attack just in case

v protective of raph & mikey

he's usually on body guard duty for those two

sometimes the noise and chaos is too much for the poor boy

he tries to tap out before it gets too bad for him

one year, he didn't tap out soon enough & ended up having a bad episode

paramedics had to be called and he had to be rushed to hospital that year

the gang hasn't forgiven themselves since....

leo especially

but he insists he'll be okay every time they ask!

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bunnyyamor · 2 years

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daddy kink

[ OCTOBER 27TH ] TOJI FUSHIGURO x fem! reader (step-dad au)

synopsis; you had wanted to trick or treat with your whole family but your mom was busy on halloween night. so instead you were stuck trick or treating with your step dad. wk; 3k

warnings; mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, dark content, daddy kink, pseudo-incest, age gaps, pet-names, public sex, unprotected sex, fingering, enemies-to-lovers, jealous! toji, over protective! toji, dirty talk, beta read!

notes; so i changed the layout a wee bit, but this is by far my fav fic i think ive written. idk its my style aesthetic and i love her lol. also toji is one of my favs cuz he is so fine so enjoy bbys. pls remember to unhide mature posts in tumblr settings and comment, like and reblog!

-nav : kinktober m.list : kinktober taglist

“so i’m thinking we’ll hit up the neighbors house, then maybe go egg some houses.” your mother raised her brow with a glare. “then we can come back home and eat all our candy while watching spoooooky movies,” you moved your fingers in a scary way. “that’s the plan. so what are you going to wear this year?”

“actually, honey. i’m not going.”

“what?” your mouth widened in shock. you were looking forward to this day for a whole year. “but you had your whole outfit picked out and everything.”

your mother rolled her eyes, annoyed, “i know. look, it’s not like i chose to not go. they have me wanting to come in for another shift.”

you were texting on your phone, pissed. “then tell them no. literally i got this day off for this, so can you.”

“it’s not that simple. i don’t know why you can’t do anything on your own? i already told you i tried, enough, what do you want from me?”

“you never hang out with me anymore,” you pouted. “it’s always work or that man.”

your mother snapped at your face, “watch yourself. that is your step-father.”

“he is nothing to me,” you crossed your arms. “he is just a dude you’ve been with for a while that stays at our house.”

“i want you to respect him, y/n. he is a good man.”

footsteps boomed down the stairs. there he was. the man that was with your mother for almost 2 years now. toji fushiguro. it looked as if he had just come out of the shower. he was wearing gray sweatpants without a shirt and his hair dripped on his shoulders. “hey baby,” his voice was raspy as he kissed your mom.

“jesus fucking christ. put on a shirt dude.” you shouldered him as you walked by.

“y/n!” your mom shouted.

you saw in your peripheral vision toji’s face darkened in anger. but you didn’t care if he was angry. he could suck it!

“what mom? i’m being a good girl.” you slid over your couch and laid there, upside down, texting on your phone, trying to make late plans. “maybe i’ll ask my friend if i can go to a party. aye, that’ll do it. i can go get wasted.” you chuckled.

you knew your mother was probably rubbing her temple and your ‘step-father’ was consoling her. he literally made you want to vomit. he made you angry and his presence was a nuisance to you.

“y/n, you know how we feel about you going to those parties. besides i don’t really like your friends,” toji crossed his arms. he had a way of making your mother think exactly like him. even if she was half on your side and thinking she would immediately turn her morals to his. your mother treated your step-father as if he was all knowing. she listened and did everything he told her. it bothered you so much.

you jumped up from the couch and made your way to toji’s huge form. he was humongous, broad shoulders, muscles galore, he almost touched your house's ceiling. he was a huge man. that didn’t intimidate you one bit. “you can’t tell me what to do. this is my house, my mom, and my life.”

toji smirked, “that’s true but i also am your step-father.” he took one step closer to you. the air shifting between you two. his arms were crossed over his chest. you never realized how thick he was on his chest area. they literally protruded under his arms. still, even with his size, you didn’t want him to think he won.

“i know who you really are. you can’t fool me. and you will never be my father,” you uttered the words so that only you and toji could hear. you thought that would break him but instead it grew a gleam in his eyes. something shined within him that made him break the smirk into a toothy grin. he was playing your game. “whatever. i’ll just call megumi and hang out with him. we’ll go trick-or-treating.”

“megumi texted me. he’s going with yuji itadori actually. so, it looks like it’s just you and me sweetheart.” toji winked.

you threw your hands up in the air frustrated. “yay,” your mom clapped her hands, “daddy and daughter time.”

you went upstairs and got changed in your ballerina costume. maybe you could separate from him and hang out with your friends. this was supposed to be a family gathering but of course, your mother had to ruin it.

you came downstairs and as you came down you noticed your mom was gone and instead toji sat on the couch. something was different with him. “you done?” he called out.

you stood at the top of the stairs, waiting for him to turn around. he stood up and turned and you knew that something was different. you felt different with your step-dad. toji smirked as he showed up in a nightwing costume. each muscle outlined, his hair disheveled, and he was wearing the eye mask. he leaned against the couch, you couldn't help it but divert your eyes to his cock. it was outlined as well, and…huge. you gulped. “wow you look-”

“cool?” he slowly walked over to the end of the stairs. “not so boring?” his eyes slowly made their way from your legs up to your face. “ballerina?”

you did your makeup pink themed and you wore a cute gloss over your lips. your lips were pursed out, all innocent looking. you were all pink and girly. super feminine. even painting your nails red. you wore a pink leotard with a sheer pink skirt. the leotard was tight, showing all your curves and ass. you looked like a cake topper, a cute pink macaroon. any man would want to take a bite.

“sweetheart, you look so beautiful. so perfect, delicate.” he whispered as his hands traveled up your legs. you didn’t have a snappy comeback. instead he made you flustered. his eyes held some kind of villainy within him. his neck curved, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he stared up at you as if you were an angel. he looked guilty and wanting at the same time. his eyes were half-lidded. you noticed the way he sniffed the air, sniffing you. his big, calloused hands looked so gigantic against your legs, covering your entire calf as he rubbed it lightly and squeezed it gently. “you ready?” his voice was hoarse.

you covered your face, wanting to hide your emotions and feelings. you were only human. “yeah, whatever. let’s just get this over with, old man.” you pushed him aside as you walked in front of him. you realized he was staring at your ass.

what was wrong with your step-father? he was your mother’s boyfriend! and yet why did you feel dirty? why did you feel that if something happened today you would let him do whatever he wanted to you? why did you want him to do something to you? why was he acting this way all of a sudden?

everyone was out. the night was young as so many families walked around the neighborhood in their costumes, wanting candy. you knew the town, knew the houses, the streets so you walked around like you knew everyone, it was true you did. toji looked at you with pride. the way you walked around, not afraid, acting like you were the main character. a part of him was irked by your rudeness but also he couldn't help but stare at you. he couldn’t help but be attracted to you.

“let’s pause here,” you said. you had put a spray around your hair and neck that was sparkles. it twinkled in the moonlight. this caught toji’s attention. you smelled like vanilla and looked like a diamond. all your sparkles catching his eye. you whipped your phone out and leaned your head against toji’s shoulder. “let’s take a selfie and send it to mom. she wants one.” you lied through your teeth. you looked away as you said this lie.

toji grinned evilly. “mom? or more like you?” his face dipped to your height. he pushed you against a fence, caging your small body with his. you winced, finally breaking, he was winning. your tiny hands pressed against his chest, strong and plump. you were hot. toji was pinning you against the fence. his face was only centimeters away from yours. “c’mon baby. you can tell daddy the truth.”

“i-i-it’s. okay fine. doesn’t matter. mom will like it.” you shouted, hiding your face. you were never bashful or shy! why were you becoming like this? he made you this way!

“okay, let’s send her a selfie.” toji all of a sudden picked you up, arm under your ass as his big hands gripped your plump thighs. “what the fuck?” your body was placed on his shoulder. the sides of your leotard rising higher from the movement. your heart was beating faster than ever before. “toji, what are you doing-”

“toji? angel, i’m your step-father. call me daddy.”

you gulped, “f-fine. what are you doing, daddy?” you felt the heat rush to your cheeks. you also felt wetness down at the name.

“i’m taking a picture with my sweet baby girl. alright, say cheese!”

you hated him. hated him more than ever in this moment. he was playing with you and your mom. he was messing with your mind. you knew it wasn’t because he actually liked you, it was because he wanted to get back at you for earlier. “n-no! i don’t have to listen to you.” you crossed your arms. the side of your ass was pressed next to toji’s face. toji raised his brow and shook his head, “good girls listen.” his mouth then turned to bite a piece of your ass peeking from the leotard. it was a light bite and then his tongue peaked out and licked the bite. “c’mon, smile.”

you jumped but was held still by toji. “toji-i mean, daddy!” your step-father just bit your ass. and you liked it. you liked it so much. you wiggled on his shoulder. finally, you smiled and toji took the selfie. he came out so attractive. his jawline was prominent in the photo, he looked like a model. his smirk making his scar above his lip prominent. you were wide eyed looking innocent in the camera. more from what toji just did seconds ago and from where you were seated. toji carried you like you weighed nothing.

he put you back down and you felt dizzy from everything. what were you feeling? “send me that picture,” toji’s hands landed on your shoulder then traveled up to around your neck, caressing your skin there. “i think you look so beautiful in it.”

why were you so quiet? you decided, toji wasn’t going to win. you were going to give him a taste of his own medicine.

you both went to a door. you knew who lived there. it was a guy that you knew had a crush on you from when you both were in high school. of course, you never liked him but you wanted toji to realize you didn’t care about him and his actions.

toji knocked the door for you. he was behind you most of the day, keeping an eye out since it was night. you weren’t going to lie, you did like how protective he was over you. you felt safe with him. he always had a shoulder wrapped around you or his hand on you to make sure you were always with him. always standing behind you, close by, so close you can smell his cologne.

“thank you daddy.” you smiled wide. excited for what was gonna happen. the door opened and low and behold it was the guy that had a crush on you. “y/n? wow, welcome! damn, you look good.” he eyed you up and down. you felt a hand on your shoulder. it was toji’s and it was tightening around you. you looked up behind you and saw his face. if looks could kill! he looked so scary! he wore a scowl and his eyes were dark, full of anger.

you rolled your eyes and popped your butt out to the side, placing your hands on your hips, posing. “you think so baby? aww thank you, love!”

the guy leaned against the door frame, coming closer to you. toji pulled you back so you fell back against his chest. “i’m her boyfriend.”

“wh-what?” you were about to fight toji. trying to turn around to protest but toji held you in place. “so, back off.” he threatened with a glare.

the guy backed off, throwing his hands up, surrendering. “damn, sorry man. i didn’t know. well, here’s some candy. enjoy your trick or treat y/n.”

you rolled your eyes and said a quiet “thank you.” you bent down to pick up the candy in the plastic jack o'lantern bucket. you noticed the guy backed away to look at your breasts almost spilling over. you knew toji would not like it. you heard toji grumble in the back of you. but you also noticed that when you bent over your ass by accidently grazed against toji’s dick, you felt it was hard! “c’mon baby. let’s go.” he grabbed your arm, dragging you away.

you both walked without saying a word. most of the streets were empty, people heading home. toji acted weird, walking in front of you this time, which was something he didn’t do this whole time.

“daddy?” you called out to him.

“i can’t believe how you acted. the way he looked at you.” you saw toji rub his temple and bang the fence beside him with his fist.

“it wasn’t my fault! he was the one all up on me. i was an innocent bystander. what was with the whole, oh i’m her boyfriend?” you imitated him.

toji turned around, anger evident on his face. “sweetheart, i saw the way he looked at you, daddy knows that look. when a man wants to ravage a sweet girl. the way he looked at you made me so angry, so disgusted.” toji’s jaw clenched. “if i said i was your boyfriend, i knew he would leave you alone.”

you were so done. you shook your head and resumed to walk, wanting to be ahead of him and by yourself. you shoved against him, “whatever. i can’t stand you! i try to like you! try to give you a chance! you think you can play with my feelings and emotions. the way i feel!”

toji grabbed you and picked you up to press you against the fence, like earlier. caging your body.

“not again with this!” you tried to push him away from you.

toji clenched the sides of your head and dipped his head to press his feverishly lips against yours. the kiss was passionate, heated. the smacking of lips. you tried to not move your mouth but you couldn't help it. you needed to kiss him. you wrapped your tiny arms, compared to his, around his head to deepen the kiss.

“daddy, i want you.” you moaned in the kiss.

“i know baby. i know.” his tongue dragged into your mouth. fighting with your tongue. both breaths hot. moaning and groaning. teeth gnashing. your fingers tangled themselves in his hair. your body was automatically attracted to his, wanting to be pressed against him.

“we shouldn't do this.” you said.

“i know.” toji agreed. but then his lips went to your neck. you suck in the air as his plump lips touched the vein on your neck. he could feel your pulse, how rapid it was. you were excited. you wanted this so bad now.

“you know i hate you so much,” you pushed toji’s head closer so he was licking all your neck.

“i never hated you. i’ve tried to fight this feeling. but you are so stubborn, such a bad girl.”

you dragged his head back to your lips. you bit his lip. the flesh between your teeth as you dragged it out. eyes directly on his.

toji picked you up, desperately, his hands under your ass, groping and squeezing your flesh. “you in this outfit. fuck. you really were testing me baby. daddy wanted to fuck you really bad.”

you grinded on his hands. loving how thick they were and veiny. he was very handsome as much as you hated him. “please daddy, fuck me. make me yours.” your eyes were innocent.

toji finally ripped his eye mask off, so his face was plain. you wanted to see his real, raw emotions while he fucked you. he held you with one hand, kissing you sloppily, while the other hand was starting to rip your leotard. “daddy, i’m not wearing underwear! everyone is gonna see me.”

“over my dead body,” he growled. “i’ll rip my costume and wrap it around you.” he ripped the fabric of the leotard that covered your pussy.

when it was finally gone, you shivered slightly from the cool october air hitting your wet pussy. “i’m cold.” you pouted.

“don’t worry. daddy, will make you all warm.” toji smirked as his thick fingers slowly touched your cunt. you gasped from the touch then hummed at the feeling. he knew what he was doing. “just like that.”

“baby likes this?”

“i would like it more if it was daddy’s cock.”

toji played with your wetness between his fingers then he lifted the fingers into his mouth. eye contact never leaving as he sucked his fingers dry. “wow, sweetheart. you taste so delicious. does this pussy belong to me?”

you nodded, so hot. his fingers circled your clit, making your legs shake from the nerves. he played with your folds, stretching them slightly. “you ready?”

you looked down at his pent up frustration. it was huge and it wasn’t even uncovered. “yes,” you said low. you were scared. you never fucked someone so big as him.

“don’t worry baby, daddy will go slow for his angel.” he kissed your forehead as he unzipped. he took his swollen cock out. it was super thick, dripping already with need. he saw you that way as well. he was very much attracted to you.

toji lifted your legs over his arms. your pussy wide and displayed for him. “look at that pretty pussy. all for daddy. it is so beautiful.”

he was wet and you were soaked. his cock slid it slowly into you. it was perfect. he fit you like a puzzle piece. it went in, inch by inch. “that’s it. take it.” his breath was shaky. you knew he wanted to fuck you hard, wanting to dive into you. but he took it slow. finally he bottomed out.

“oh my god,” you moaned. moving your hips for him to go fast.

“already baby! i just put it in. you naughty girl.” toji’s hips went back and forward. both of you getting wetter and squelching. skin sticking. “but if that’s what you want, my baby gets what she wants.” suddenly, toji’s hips started going quicker. he was humping up inside your cunt, your juice dripping down his cock.

“yesss right there. fuck! yes daddy! right there daddy!” you hugged onto him. your grip tight. his balls slapped against your cunt. his thick cock was dragging in and out. this was not making love, this was pure, straight up, fucking you. he was feral. biting onto your shoulder.

toji grunted, pounding inside you. nonstop. he was holding you and fucking you. sweat was dripping down his temple. you were pinned against someones fence, being fucked out of your mind. toji kissed you again while he fucked your brains out. loving how you clenched around him. how tight you were.

“god i feel so full, daddy,” you cried.

“that’s okay. take it. take it.” toji noticed how you pulsed around his dick. he loved how every time his cock came peeking out of you it was covered, drenched with your cream. you looked so perfect. so angelic. breathing harshly, trying to take all of him. lips puffy, eyelashes thick with tears from the stimulation. your hair was starting to stick to your skin from the sweat. you looked like his favorite vision. he wanted to remember this moment. paint a picture of you this way. his tongue licked inside your mouth, opened mouths making out. his cock and pounding didn’t stop. it went faster, fervently. needing. it was unstoppable. he was unstoppable. if someone was watching let them. you were worth it. he didn’t care in that moment about your mother, he wanted you. wanted to take you to a lair and fuck you everyday every second. you were his drug.

“daddy, i don’t think i can last longer. i’m gonna cum!”

“go ahead baby. cum for daddy.” he growled as his forehead rested against yours. wanting to see your face. wanting to see how you looked as you took all his seed.

“ahhhhh!” you shook, grasping onto toji’s shoulders.

toji didn’t stop. he loved to feel your goopy-ness drip on his cock. it was warm and felt like a velvet blanket of a waterfall onto him.

“i’m so fucking lucky,” he whispered to you. “shittt, fuck,” he grunted as he finally came. not able to last because your pussy walls pulsed against his shaft, milking him for everything he was worth.

“i love you daddy. thank you daddy, fuck,” you kissed him again. it was sloppy, disgusting. saliva everywhere. but you wanted him to know you were his but if he could be yours.

“i know. i know.” he moaned against your lips. he was still into you and when you both calmed down he slipped out of you. before you could even ask him anything, he ripped his top in half and wrapped it around your hips. he held onto your hand to walk with you but you tripped. you were too weak and held still on the fence.

“i got you.” toji picked you up bridal style. “how bout we cuddle on the couch and watch spooky movies?

your tiny hands touched his face in a feather like touch, “okay. also, i don’t hate you as much.”

toji walked with you cuddled in his arms, he was smirking. “i know.”

#cry baby *🧸*#jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji fic #fushiguro toji smut #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x you #fushiguro x y/n #fushiguro toji x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji

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existslikepristin · 10 months

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This is dedicated to all the people who guessed wrong on this post, because nobody guessed correctly. :soojinbully:

Anonymous editor is back at it again for this one!

Tags: NSFW, TheLounge, Twice, Jeongyeon, gender-unspecified reader because it's still rainbow month babyyy!, fingering, heavy make outs, a bit of embarrassment, more prose-y than normal for me, don't worry there's no actual horror in this one, voyeurism I think?, wow I spelled voyeurism right on the first try

Not Summer Yet

Jeongyeon's face, barely illuminated in a sea of pitch black, contorts in terror. Slowly, a hand rises to clasp over her mouth. Her fingers are crushing yours, grasping desperately to them like a lifeline thrown to a drowning casualty. It's not slow motion. She's just stuck that way, eyes widening slowly, like portals to some unknown hell.

You've waited for this. Yes, this terror is your fault, and exactly what you wanted. Even now, as she clings to you, fully aware of your orchestration and yet unable to deny her attachment to you, you regret nothing. A smile creeps up your lips. Yes… this will do.

The basement door opens…

Jeongyeon shrieks, and drops the mostly empty bucket of popcorn.

~~~~~

"Oh my gosh, that was so scary!" She says for the seventh time since leaving the theater.

"Ha, right?" You chuckle. You've already told her about the first time you saw the movie. Old, black and white, and so masterfully directed as to cause suspenseful dread so many decades later. It's no wonder it still occasionally gets a real theater showing.

"Sheeeesh. Well… here I am," Jeongyeon gestures at the apartment building's front door. You stroll off the street with her and get an unexpected hug. It's awkward and from the side, but with a little finagling, you twist around in her arms and return it.

She nuzzles your shoulder and drapes her chin over it. Here you are, just a couple of cuddling hamsters on the sidewalk. The smell of her perfume reminds you of your first date together. You barely caught a whiff because you weren’t sniffing her like a weirdo, but it was distinct, musky, ever so slightly fruity, an unripe grove, but the kind growing the organic stuff. You’re not sure if you could say you enjoyed the excessively salty hot pot you ate together, but that matters so little, and you found out so much you have in common, at least as far as taste in all-you-can-eat ingredients is concerned.

“Do you want to come in?”

It’s a good thing Jeongyeon’s chin is over your shoulder, because you’d be pretty embarrassed at how far your eyes are popping out if she could see them. “Yeah, sure,” you say immediately to avoid the appearance of hesitation.

A key code is punched in, a door is opened. No monsters or serial killers behind this one, but you feel some amount of suspense anyway. Jeongyeon has not made any suggestions like this yet, so the presumably sexual proposition… Maybe it’s not sexual. Seems like a stretch, but it’s best to err on the side of caution, as they say and as you definitely adhere (note: that is sarcasm).

Jeongyeon guides you through the apartment. You’re not exactly unfamiliar with its layout, but you’d rather not recall your second date dammit here you go you can’t stop it. That was when you discovered that Jeongyeon was an idol, and that you were an idiot. Several of her friends tagged along. It was sort of a triple date kind of situation. You saw them and you asked Jeongyeon, “OMG, you’re friends with Twice?” and she said, “I’m in Twice.” You then spent the rest of the evening with a glowing red face while Nayeon, Jihyo, Chaeyoung, Tzuyu, and Mina explained in excruciating detail all of the sex they’d already had with you up until that point. Jeongyeon was unbothered, and asked you out on a third date once the wine tasting was over. The unwitting eavesdroppers sitting at the adjacent tables, however, looked very judgemental.

You snap out of that devastatingly traumatic flashback as Jeongyeon sits you down on a bed, in her room, with the lights set quite dim. She sits next to you and her fingers entwine with yours. This adorable piece of shit must think she can win you over by being cute and wholesome, and she’s correct.

“Can I kiss you?” she asks.

You don’t need to be asked Twice (get used to it because this stupid joke will be used several more times tonight). You get on that faster than Nayeon getting naked, which is a measurement of time you have experience with. Don’t think about your second date again. Think about the third.

That was the first time Jeongyeon held your hand. You were on the roof of one of the JYP office buildings, looking out over Seoul. It was perhaps the least fancy date you’ve ever been on, and barely even counted as one, according to Yeri. There was no food, music, or dancing. There were a couple bottles of mediocre beer, a couple of lingering touches, and a couple of minds exchanging deep thoughts about the secrets of the universe. It was mostly her thoughts that were deep, you’d admit. You’ve been avoiding universal secrets whenever possible since Halloween.

It’s so electric when your lips touch you think you might need to make a call to the apartment’s manager to file a safety complaint. It’s as if you’ve known her and waited for this for years… which isn’t entirely, technically inaccurate. It’s wonderful.

Her kisses are as slow as the multi-month build up to this moment. Sitting side by side as you are, you don’t have much choice, but it’s nice. Despite the initial thundershock popping you with that ten percent chance of paralysis, you’re feeling comfortable. Her nose brushes your cheek, her wistful breath puffs off of you, and her fingers curl onto your shirt sleeve.

You respond to it all in kind, resting your palm on her knee and caressing her jawline. She’s soft, and yet you’re the one who feels like you’re melting. Maybe she’s feeling the same way, but given how smoothly she pulls you down until you’re both on your backs with your legs hanging off the bed, you suspect that she’s feeling more like a marshmallow hovering over a campfire. Soft and cool, but she’s got a s’more to warm up for—That’s a horrendous simile and we’re moving on to reminisce about your fourth date.

That date was a walk in the park, literally. It was in the middle of the night, so it felt like you and Jeongyeon were the only two people in the world, hopping onto the playground swings, hand in hand, with just a pair of nearby streetlamps keeping you from tripping over the end of a slide and face planting.

“Hey,” she’d started, “Stop me if this is weird.”

Rather than quip about how you’re friends with Yerin so nothing’s weird anymore, you kept your mouth shut.

“I have a really hard time saying things like this, but I think I kind of like you.”

Back in the present, Jeongyeon’s kisses are only barely more insistent, her breath a little needier. Your instincts are teetering back and forth between flipping her over and taking the lead because you think you know what she wants or begging her for more because you’re pretty sure you know what you want. Normally you’d have so much better of a read on the situation, but Jeongyeon is like a prescription signature.

She sneaks her hand under the hem of your shirt, lightly stroking your stomach as she pushes up. Her breath gets shaky, and she lifts herself away from you.

“Sorry,” she whispers, “I… shouldn’t…”

Just like on the swings, words don’t feel right. You touch her cheek, gently guiding her to look into your eyes. Once there, you glance down at her shirt and back up, then carefully take the uppermost button of that shirt between your fingers. You hope she’s looking for permission, because that’s what you want to give her.

Good call, that was. She quickly unbuttons the rest, from the bottom to the top. Her shirt falls open and she falls onto you, all lips and hushed breaths. Your poor shirt gets stretched near to the point of ripping as you and Jeongyeon try to pull it up and out from the middle of your crushing embrace. Both of you give up at a point, unwilling to separate from each other and satisfied enough by the skin to skin contact of your stomachs.

Such a dramatic kiss is not doing wonders for your hair or hers, as your fingers clutch at each other's heads.

Besides your head, she seems to have a particular fondness for your shoulders, and you’re obviously loving the freedom you've been given to explore her back. You aren’t even sure how you managed to unclasp her bra one-handed, but at some point or another you did. The loose, stiff fabric quickly becomes a point of discomfort, but is handled just as fast. Jeongyeon sits up, thrashing an arm to throw off one of her sleeves and half of the bra. You don't get to see much as you're busy yanking your shirt over your head, but you find yourself unable to care when she catches your mouth immediately as it becomes available again.

Full upper-frontal contact has been achieved and you wonder how you survived this long without it. Jeongyeon’s breasts are some of the softest you’ve ever felt. Perhaps the softest. And you’ve felt a lot (including but not limited to half her roommates but let’s not get into that again). Maybe the marshmallow simile was… no, still feels weird rolling off the tongue in your mind.

On the note of tongues though, Jeongyeon is getting bolder and bolder, opening her mouth a bit more with each kiss, and lightly brushing her tongue across your lips.

Your first kiss had been significantly more chaste. It was your fifth date, and she’d invited you to a board game cafe. Unluckily for you, most of Itzy was there too (invited by Jeongyeon (your theory is that she prefers group dates as they deter her from delving into, and burning out on, deep conversations)). The two of you picked Ryujin to be on your team, which meant you got your asses carried to an absolute victory, crushing Yeji, Lia, and Chaeryeong’s spirits. The three of them proceeded to retaliate by embarrassing you, recounting their less than wholesome and more than sensual past encounters with you to Jeongyeon. Chaeryeong dropped another unexpected knowledge bomb though, recounting her less than wholesome past encounter with Jeongyeon. That one shocked everybody at the table, but you didn’t make a deal out of it, since Jeongyeon had at that point given you the same courtesy Twice.

The kiss had been on your cheek, barely tapping the corner of your mouth. Come to think of it, she hadn’t asked back then. Must not have been as planned as this make out session.

This make out session, speaking of which, is becoming less modest by the second. You’re not sure exactly when it happened—perhaps during your fifth date flashback—but your hand managed to get inside Jeongyeon’s jeans. You haven’t gotten very far, but your excitement ramps up as she breathes in through her teeth and shifts herself upward, pushing your fingers past and under the elastic of her underwear.

“Is this okay?” you mutter.

Her shaky, shallow breaths syncopate with her hurried nodding, and she plunges back down to you, her kisses suddenly giving off a distinctly desperate vibe. They’re a little more spread out now too, occasionally hitting your jawline and neck, sucking gently, encouraging you.

Your hand is soaked well before you actually reach Jeongyeon’s clit, but when you do, she has to back away from you to take in a full, shuddering gasp. She unbuttons and unzips her jeans quickly before dropping back into the make out. How considerate of her. That will make this a lot easier on your wrist, and gives you a tangential reminder of how fantastic her ass looked in these pants. She’d said as much herself, and pointed it out while you were in line for the movie earlier tonight (which was/is still your sixth date). Up until… well, up until right now… it was the closest—only—thing to a sexual comment she’d made to you. You briefly wonder if you should take back your prior thought about her winning you over by being cute and wholesome, but that is definitely still the case. Her restrained grip on your shoulders is undeniably and unequivocally still adorable.

Jeongyeon’s face, barely illuminated in a sea of pitch black, contorting in pleasure and only millimeters away from your own, suddenly becomes a lot more illuminated.

“—and I told him as long as I get some solid—” Jihyo gasps, loud and over-dramatic.

Jeongyeon sits halfway up, eyes screwed shut, lips tight, and shoulders hunched. “Fuck,” she whispers quietly enough it was probably not meant to be out loud.

Jihyo’s footfalls thunder down the hallway. “Nayeon, guess what!”

“I am… I’m so sorry,” Jeongyeon groans, placing her fingertips to her forehead.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you tell her, taking her hand away from her head.

She sighs and glances back over her shoulder. You follow her gaze to the door and see a barely hidden, peeping Tzuyu. Jeongyeon drapes her shirt onto her back again. She doesn’t button it, just sort of hides behind it.

“I guess…” she starts. She hangs her head like a wilting flower. Some mix of pensiveness and dejection, the depths of which you can certainly estimate, emanates from her. The last breath of spring has come and gone, and summer has arrived, beating fields down with too much heat and light. A hardier plant will be in her place soon, happy to provide color and aromas. “I guess maybe next time. I didn’t mean for—”

You take her chin between your thumb and forefinger, lifting her just a bit to look her in the eye. You like the mud and the mossy smell. “Don’t worry about it. It really is okay.”

Jeongyeon stares, half-lidded, for a few intense moments, and lays back down on top of you. Your mouths meet once more. Her passion is somewhat reduced, but you can feel it speeding up from its pause again.

Well, this is not quite what you meant by “it’s okay.” You were just trying to make her feel better about being interrupted, not suggest that it was cool for her roommates to watch your spicy make out session. You suppose it’s fine… Yeah, fuck it.

You snake an arm between the two of you and Jeongyeon shifts a little to the side to allow you access to her breast. This is the first you’ve gotten your hands on it, and you can fucking cut it out with the marshmallow shit. This has happened Twice already. Her tits are soft. You don’t recall the last time you even felt a marshmallow. The texture is completely different. You know marshmallows are dry as hell. You don’t need this explained to you. This is in your head. Oh, and it’s a damn good thing Jeongyeon’s not a mind reader because you’re thinking like a fucking idiot right now. Marshmallows. Fucking hell.

Jeongyeon’s tits are the tittiest. Forget this nonsense and squeeze.

It's not easy to ignore the whispers and clambering just outside the open bedroom door. Four hushed voices. Now five. This apartment is ridiculous, but deep moans bring you back into the moment and focus your mind, drowning out the other voices not with volume but sensuality. "Please?"

You don't need clarification, since Jeongyeon is already gently guiding your wrist down and back to its place inside her pants. You take it from there, getting yourself snug underneath her. Dampness becomes wet again, and her folds form an easy path to her clit when you overshoot.

Strained breaths, knitted eyebrows, and desperately grasping fingers are her unsubtle clues that you're on the right track. Her legs open wider as you circle her clit. Such a tiny button.

She kisses you. Of course there's more kissing, but it's a lot less controlled now, less accurate. Whether that's because her eyes are closed or because she twitches every time you stroke with your whole finger, swiping over her entrance while continuing the clitoral stimulation you started with, you can't tell. Either way, her lips end up all over your mouth and neck, and she makes it sound like she needs these kisses more than you.

Jeongyeon hunches down, pressing her face into your chest. Her ever-quickening, heavier breaths tickle your sternum. It seems she’s losing touch with the world, fingers fluttering over your shoulders and neck as she repeats herself in staccato whispers, “Please. Please. Please.”

And please you do (or pleased you are, or perhaps she is). You keep up the pace, almost going off-course from how slick she’s become. Flinging an arm around her back, you hold her in place, where you can kiss the top of her head, and take in that most her of scents, buried in her hair, taking you out to the woods where you can smell the soil giving of its life to the weak and strong alike. It’s only right that you give some back.

Jeongyeon shakes, and the immense restraint she was displaying fades. She collapses on top of you, her forearms crushing you into her from below. You didn’t even realize how much strength she had in such a soft body. Her breath holds at first, but croaks from her throat in tiny bursts before she can’t take it anymore and bawls it into your neck.

It takes some time for her to come down, her chest bouncing against yours in a pattern you’d definitely mistake for sobbing if she wasn’t still peppering your throat with kisses and her eyes weren’t so dry. Though, what little makeup she was wearing is now smeared across some combination of her cheeks and your torso.

“That was…” she says, then continues after a gulp of air, “Amazing. You’re amazing…”

You can’t help but smile and say, “No, you.”

Her lips twitch up until she’s smiling back, and she gives you a deep kiss, reminiscent of every flower you’ve ever seen bloom. “Stay here,” she mumbles against your cheek, “Okay?”

Without waiting for your response, Jeongyeon peels herself away from you, onto her feet, and toward the bedroom door. One pair of footsteps thunders away (probably Jihyo again), but you can still see multiple heads peeking through, blushing furiously, and one that isn’t blushing at all (Chaeyoung’s).

One small fist reaches past the door, which Jeongyeon quickly bumps with her own before she gently pushes it away and closes the door. The room becomes even dimmer, but with your mostly adjusted eyes you can still see Jeongyeon turn to face you again. Her form is merely outlined by her open shirt and pants that are barely hanging on to her hips.

“May I return the favor please?” she asks politely.

You can’t imagine denying her.

#kpop smut #fanfic #twice smut #twice x reader #twice x you #jeongyeon #jeongyeon smut #gender neutral reader

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strawberriemarswrites · 1 month

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CHAPTER NINE

Chapter Summary: With the weight of suspicion lifted, you can hang out with Bartolomeo in peace. Well, hang out... among other things... Pairing: Bartolomeo x F!Reader Rating: Explicit (18+ only, NSFW Chapter; PiV sex, lots of biting, eating out, coitus interruptus/pulling out) TW: Other than references to the stalking that's been going on, none <3 enjoy~ Ao3 Link: Chapter Nine (5,095 words)

Bartolomeo’s apartment layout was a mirror image of yours. The tidiness was anything but. While it was free of trash, likely thanks to the frantic clean-up he did before letting you in, it was still a bit of a disaster. The kitchen counter was overflowing with mail, some of it just empty envelopes. The pile was accompanied by a key tray filled with change, two lighters, and a set of keys joined together by a jolly roger keychain. Turning toward the living room area, you were greeted by the sight of various clothes scattered about. Some draped over the couch, others on the floor, while the majority was piled onto a battered armchair.

Then your gaze fell on Bartolomeo, who was scratching the back of his head as he picked up some of the discarded garments. “Sorry, it’s still pretty bad. I uh... I wasn’t expectin’ anyone over.”

You smirked. “You don’t strike me as the type to clean up for just anyone.”

As his skin flushed and he continued bundling clothes into his arms, you silenced the part of your brain that insisted he was the type to break into apartments. He was the one who offered to hang out after all, making it so you didn’t have to impose it upon him. If he really was the culprit, would he really risk letting you in where you could find evidence?

You let your eyes wander once more, this time landing on his TV stand. There were dust imprints from the consoles he had let you borrow, but he still had one on the bottom shelf with different games stacked beside it. To the left of his setup was a tall bookshelf with more games, and a few shelves of DVDs. Curious, you wandered over.

Bartolomeo was doing an exceptional job at not visibly freaking out. You were here. In his apartment. Alone with him. He wished it could have been better circumstances — if he’d had more time to prepare he would have better hidden his dirty clothes. And got his shit off the counter. Maybe even put clean sheets on his bed. You cooked for him, he could have probably made something for you. He wasn’t the best, but he could’ve made like... omelets. Those weren’t too hard. It was just a matter of not letting the fact you were finally in his apartment distract him.

He could do that. Easy. Totally. Definitely without burning the eggs.

He’d probably just end up burning the complex down instead, if the fact that he couldn’t stop staring at you was anything to go by. He nearly jumped out of his skin when you looked over your shoulder, catching him in the act.

You giggled, “What? What are you looking at?”

Bartolomeo shook his head. “N-nothin’. You uh. You wanna watch something?”

You shrugged, returning your attention to the options. “I was just being nosy, but sure.” You then picked up Screamoff the shelf and stuck your tongue out at him, asking in your best gravelly voice, “What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A smile slowly crept across his face as tension rolled off his shoulders. He could do this.

After setting up the movie and a playful argument over who would pay for takeout (which Bartolomeo won, holding his phone out of reach with one hand and keeping you back with the other), you were next to one another on the couch. There was plenty of room to sit on opposite sides, but it somehow felt... right, sitting closer to him. You wondered if it was partially from guilt, and you wanted to be closer as a way of apologizing for your suspicion.

Deep down, however, you knew it was because despite that, despite being “just friends”, you still had it bad for him. You decided from the moment he was cleared of guilt to lean against that boundary, if only just a little.

For his part, Bartolomeo was trying to lean against it as well. The close proximity made his heart race, and he summoned up the courage to let an arm drape across the back of the couch, propping one ankle onto the opposite knee. The mere inches between his arm and your back was enough to send sparks through his nerves, and he resisted the urge to let his arm fall onto your shoulders. Not yet.

The hair on your neck stood, feeling his arm behind you. Slowly, you let yourself relax, the warmth radiating from him drawing you closer as you sank into the couch. When the food arrived you assumed he would retreat back into himself, but surprisingly no — he would lean forward for a bite, and every time he sat back his arm returned as well. Gradually, over the course of the film, you found yourself leaning even closer, your hand brushing against his leg.

Bartolomeo wasn’t entirely sure when his heartbeat became louder than the movie, but he knew it wasn’t from the rising tension on screen. He could feel you inching nearer, whether you meant to or not. He was determined not to make the same mistake he had before at the diner — if you were uncomfortable, he trusted you would correct yourself or say something. And if you did, this would be a rare moment that he’d get to be so close. At least while you were awake and aware.

By the time the movie was done, you were almost completely against him, your head near his shoulder and your hand pressed between your leg and his.

Both of you separated, faces beet red as Bartolomeo took the trash to the kitchen and you skittishly retrieved the DVD. You glanced over your shoulder before pulling out your phone and quickly texting Robin,

“Any chance you can bring my keys tomorrow morning?”

The response came quickly, “Having fun?”

“Maybe? We’re watching movies. He almost had his arm around me.

“Even if it doesn’t... go anywhere. I might just crash on his couch.”

Another moment passed, then, “Tomorrow works.

“Don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. Call if it changes.

“Have fun~”

Your heart skipped a beat. Hopefully you would, if you weren’t misreading things this time. Even if it meant you had to be the one to make the move.

Bartolomeo took in a deep breath, leaning against the kitchen counter. This was agony. It was nice, receiving the light physical contact that he did, but the pain of leaving things unspoken much longer was going to kill him. If he didn’t do something now, he never would, and he would spend who knows how long pining, and watching, and following, and breaking in...

And doing anything to keep other people from having you.

He took another deep breath, straightened his back, and turned around. Now or never.

“Well, Robin won’t be able to get my keys until tomorrow morning,” you sighed, turning your attention back to the DVD shelf. “Anything you wanna watch?”

He stepped out of the kitchen, feeling his heart beat heavier with each step toward you. “Nah, you’re the guest. You pick.”

You shrugged, running a finger along the titles, lingering on a few — Boondock Saints, Pirates of the Caribbean, Jaws — before pulling out Silence of the Lambs to read the summary. Half way through, you felt a warmth against your back.

Bartolomeo’s chest rose and fell as he wrapped his arms around your waist, bending just a bit to press his head to the top of yours. “Been thinkin’ lately. About you.”

You let out a shuddering breath, your heart racing. “W-what about me?”

His hold tightened, pulling you closer to him. “How I’ve been wantin’ to hold you like this for a while now.”

You gently put one hand on his forearm, swallowing. “How long?”

You felt his chest heave again and his breath huffed down your neck. “Since we got to talkin’, back when you first moved in.”

The movie case slipped from your hold and clattered to the floor. This whole time? As long as you have? Little moments began to creep into your mind. The way he seemed to flush at the slightest contact with you. How frequently he took time out of his day to talk to you. Every time he called you “sweetheart”. And then the bigger things — the creep at the bar and the jerk who harassed you on the train. Bartolomeo had gone out of his way to protect you. And when you were stood up by Cavendish, he was there to comfort you.

You suddenly felt ridiculous for having misread the signs.

Slowly, you managed to turn in his hold, his forehead now pressed to yours. His eyes bore into you, amber irises like crackling flames. Unable to stop their trembling, you lifted your hands to either side of his face, your thumbs stroking his cheeks as you tried to calm your rapidly increasing heart rate. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I dunno. Guess I was nervous. You’re so... you’re so cute. And good. And soft.” He averted his gaze, his cheeks turning warmer. “And I’m not any of those things.”

“Barto...” You tried to lean into his line of sight. “You’re definitely cute — you’re helping me harbor a cat, and I hear how you talk to him.” Your thumb traced the lines of his face tattoo. “You made a creep drug himself and punched some jerkwad’s lights out for me. If that’s not good, I don’t know what is.”

He cracked a lopsided grin. “Still not soft.”

“You don’t have to be.” You brushed your thumbs over his cheeks again. “Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

He swallowed the thick lump in his throat. “I’ve been holdin’ back for a long time. Now you’re here, and I like holdin’ ya like this, and I don’t wanna ruin it.”

“How could you ruin it?”

The flames in Bartolomeo’s eyes flickered as he finally looked at you. “...’cause I wanna ruin you.”

Your heart fluttered, a sensation that rapidly descended to your stomach, then swelled to an ache between your thighs. With a deep breath to steady yourself, filled with confidence now knowing the truth, you were going to do what you had been wanting to since you met him.

Your hands moved behind his neck as you lifted yourself on your toes to kiss him.

His teeth made it a tad awkward at first, but after a moment, when he realized what was going on, he began kissing back — then his mouth fit perfectly against yours. He moved his hands to your hips, his grip almost too tight, and you felt his tongue push against your lips. You gladly granted access, both of you sighing between each other’s mouths as he slid inside. You let out a soft moan that ended in a squeak as he pressed his teeth into your lower lip. He then abruptly pulled away, leaving you dizzy and breathless as he leaned down and began placing soft kisses all down your neck, in between each one breathing out “please”.

Your core ached a little harder as you lifted one hand to thread it into his hair, the locks silky between your fingers. After he nipped at where your neck met your shoulder, you pulled at the base of his scalp, leaning into his ear.

“I want you to ruin me.”

You were swept up into his arms before you could utter another syllable.

With a startled shout you held tight to his shoulders as Bartolomeo carried you to his room, stealing another heated kiss from you, and another, and another, before he lowered you onto the edge of his bed. Your pants were gone all too quickly and discarded somewhere in the room as he sank to his knees between your legs, trailing more kisses down your right thigh, then the left, before nipping at the underside of your knee.

“I’ve wanted you so fuckin’ badly,” he sighed as he peppered more kisses on your skin.

You nodded, breathless. “I’ve wanted you, too.”

Bartolomeo’s heart clenched and he looked away, his voice wavering. “Don’t — don’t go sayin’ that if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it.” You tangled your fingers in his hair and tipped his head back. “I’ve wanted you since we met.”

You could swear you saw his eyes water, and he lifted your legs over his shoulders, kissing your thighs again. “Please, please, please let me have you.”

Another flutter in your chest shot right down to your loins. “I’m yours.”

A soft moan rolled through his chest and he bit down on one thigh, making you throw your head back and cry out. He sucked on the skin there, his teeth pressing into the soft flesh and threatening to puncture, the sharp pain of a forming bruise sending pleasurable shocks through your nerves. When he finally let go, a dark hickey was left behind, trailed by a string of saliva and just the faintest bit of blood where his teeth managed to break through.

Bartolomeo then spread your legs just a bit further, stroking one thumb against your covered folds, his eyes shining in the dark room. “I’m gonna take good care of you.”

You giggled, “You talking to me or my cunt?”

His gaze flicked up to yours, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Both.”

The responding laugh quickly melted into a heady moan, your eyes fluttering shut as Bartolomeo ran his tongue over the outside of your panties. The barrier between his mouth and your core was torturously thin, the warmth and wetness of his tongue seeping through the fabric and mixing with yours. You felt the tip nudge against your clit, making you shudder and whine. He repeated the action, going slower and pushing harder against the fabric, just barely teasing your entrance.

Your grip on his hair tightened and he groaned, looking up at you. He only paused for a moment, before he pulled the fabric of your underwear aside and gave another long, languid lick to your folds. You bit back a shrill whine, falling back against the bed and holding his head with both hands, rolling your hips to meet each stroke and shivering every time the tip caught the edge of your entrance or pressed against your clit.

Bartolomeo relented, placing kisses along your hips and letting your legs drop from his shoulders. Agonizingly slow, he dragged your underwear off, his eyes flicking between your blissful face and the sight of the warm, dripping pussy before him. He could hardly believe this was happening — part of him was terrified he’d wake up and everything that had happened up to this point would be a dream. But the feel of your soft thighs in his hands, the smell of your slick, the dark hickey he left on your skin, all of it reassured him this was real. You were real. And you were right there for the taking.

He dove right back in, pushing your knees further apart as he devoured your cunt. His fangs dragged against your outer folds while he caught your clit on his front teeth, the sharp edges drawing forth a scream from you as your hips jerked upward. He lifted your legs over his shoulders again and held your hips down to the bed, pinning you in place as he teased the sensitive bud.

After letting loose another scream, you brought one hand to your face, biting your knuckle to keep from being too loud. A smart move, given you nearly screamed again when his tongue slid inside of you, his nose and the cold metal of his septum ring taking its place near your clit. With every arch of your hips, his grip seemed to get tighter, pressing you down more firmly to the mattress as he continued his onslaught, occasionally circling his tongue around the rim of your entrance before slipping right back inside.

Bartolomeo looked up after a particularly hard twitch of your hips, seeing you biting your knuckle. He growled softly, an action that sent pleasurable ripples up your spine, before pulling away, trailing wet kisses up over your hips and stomach. Stopping just above your navel, he released your hips to reach up and pull your hand away, pushing himself up onto the bed to straddle you. As he pinned your wrist beside your head, he took your chin in the other hand, looking down into your lust-hazed eyes with a mix of adoration and danger.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice low, his grip on your wrist flexing. “I wanna hear you.” He then leaned down to your ear, continuing, “I want everyone for miles to know you’re my girl.”

You couldn’t help the sharp whine in your voice, “Barto, please.”

He chuckled, nuzzling your cheek. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

His nickname for you took on a whole new meaning, knowing how he’d meant it, hearing it in that husky tone. With a shuddering breath you said, “More.”

He released your wrist. “Sit up against the headboard.”

You nodded, scooting yourself backwards and upright, taking his face in your hands to kiss him again. He responded in kind, his mouth covering yours as he again slid his tongue past your lips, and you tasted yourself on him. You were so occupied with the kiss that you hardly noticed the hand drifting down between your thighs until his fingers circled your clit, making you throw your head back again with a needy cry. Electricity fired through every fiber of your being, your hips arching up to meet his hand and attempting to grind against it. All the while he kissed down your neck and shoulder, leaving soft bites in his wake and dragging his teeth across your skin.

It was only when your hands fell to his shoulders that you realized Bartolomeo was, annoyingly, still clothed. With a frustrated groan you pulled at his shirt, tugging it up to expose his midriff.

A low laugh reverberated in his chest and he kissed your cheek. “Relax, sweetheart. I get it.”

He removed his fingers from your folds and sat back on his knees, towering over you as he slowly pulled his shirt over his head. Your heart leapt to your throat, your gaze drifting from the tattoo on his toned chest down to the dusting of happy trail peeking out from his jeans. All too eager to respond in kind, you whipped your own shirt off and tossed it aside, before pausing to make eye contact. His eyes were wide, watching you with utter fascination as you slowly unhooked your bra and let it slide off your shoulders, finally fully naked before him.

He looked you up and down, his Adam’s apple bobbing and his eyes getting misty again. “Fuck... you’re beautiful.” He nearly collapsed on top of you as he buried his face in your neck, breathing in your scent. “How’d I get to be so lucky?”

You giggled, threading your fingers in his hair. You both would’ve been luckier if you’d known sooner, you thought. If either of you had actually said anything, maybe you could have been coming home to this every day for the past few months.

You could come home to it every day from now on.

With a desperate groan Bartolomeo shoved his jeans and boxers down his hips, kicking them off the bed as he pulled you down by the waist to lay fully flat against the mattress. He cradled your face in his hands and kissed you again, smothering you with more as he covered your cheeks and trailed them down your neck, each one gracing you with little scratches as his fangs caught your flesh. You dragged your nails down his back and he responded with a guttural moan, his hips bucking and pressing his length against you as a result. You gasped at the heated contact, looking down between your bodies.

Oh shit. He really was long. You couldn’t resist reaching down and taking his shaft in your hand, sighing at the weight and velvety feel.

Bartolomeo let out a choked gasp, his eyes widening before squeezing shut as he bit down hard on his lip. Fuck, fuck your hand felt so much better than his, so small and soft in comparison. You gave him a squeeze and he practically yelped, burying his face in your chest to stifle the sound.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he whined, rolling his hips forward and making his cock slide in your hand. “You feel so good.”

You stroked along his length, the resulting moan from him vibrating your ribcage. You lifted your hips, pressing his cock between your body and hand, crooning, “You’re supposed to say that after you start fucking me.”

He smiled and lifted his head, caressing your cheek with the side of his hand. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

His other hand covered yours and helped guide himself down, slowly sliding along your slick folds. The pressure of his length against your core was torment, making you ache with each teasing stroke. You lifted your hips again, trying to catch the head of his cock on the opening of your cunt, whimpering with each attempt.

Bartolomeo bit his lip again, hard enough to draw blood. It was taking every ounce of restraint he had not to shove into you — he wanted to savor this moment, knowing you were as desperate for him as he was for you, drinking in every needy whine and frustrated rake of your nails on his arms and back. But he was also so much bigger than you... he thought he’d be fine girth-wise, but length? He’d likely bottom out before you even reached the base.

“Barto,” you groaned, digging your nails into his back, “stop teasing and fuck me.”

“Ohh, shit.” He slowed his hips, lining up his head with your opening. “Say that again.”

You put your hands on either side of his face, looking into his fiery eyes. “Fuck me, Bartolomeo. Please.”

“That’s my girl.”

With that, he plunged his cock inside.

Your scream caught in your throat, the burning stretch of your walls a sweet relief from the torture. He pushed in slow, inch by blissful inch, stopping just shy of your cervix. For a moment, you both stayed there, adjusting to each other and staring into one another’s eyes. Bartolomeo then pulled his hips back, then snapped them forward again, pushing in as far as he could go. He was right — he wouldn’t fit to the hilt. But he was going to be damn sure to enjoy as much he was able to drive in to the fullest.

The next thrust sent spots scattering into your vision, and you finally let out the scream trapped in your chest, clenching tight around him. His groaning grew almost feral as he picked up speed, once more burying his face in your neck and biting. You shrieked, unsure if the sharp pain was him sucking at the skin or his teeth breaking through it, but combined with the feeling of his dick bullying its way as deep as it could go, you were more than willing to endure anything he decided to do with you. Even if it meant letting him eat you whole.

Bartolomeo let go of your neck with a satisfying pop , laving over the dark bruise he left behind and tasting the traces of blood there. His hips stuttered — shit, he hurt you... you tasted so much better than he ever dreamed — but he couldn’t stop. From how tight you became when he released his bite, you weren’t letting go of his shaft any time soon, regardless. Good. He needed this. He needed you.

“Mine,” he rasped, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

You whimpered, your eyes watering as you met each thrust, hooking your legs around his waist to draw him in as deep as he could go. Your name fell from his lips with every thrust like a prayer, occasionally broken by the deep husk of “mine”.

The tension in your gut finally snapped and you saw white, screaming Bartolomeo’s name in his ear as you held tight, your cunt spasming around him. Fire flooded your veins, spreading across your back and down again through your legs. He wasn’t far behind, his prayer devolving, “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

He abruptly pulled out, his orgasm ripping through him like lightning as he came, his seed spilling over your stomach and thighs. He quickly sat upright and took hold of his cock, pumping out the last of it onto your mound, unable to stop a bit of drool from dripping down his chin onto you. You whined and writhed beneath him from the sudden loss of contact, but in hindsight it was for the better, considering neither of you had protection.

Panting, Bartolomeo collapsed beside you, one arm draped over your chest and pulling you close as he peppered your face with kisses. Breathless, you returned some of them, struggling to keep up in the post orgasm haze, but relishing every time your mouths connected.

After a few more placed to your forehead, he shakily stood from the bed, holding your face in his hands.

“Stay here,” he muttered, giving your cheeks a soft squeeze. “Please — please stay right here.”

You laughed, taking hold of his wrists. “I’m not going anywhere.”

This time he couldn’t help it. A few tears slid down his face and he kissed your forehead again before parting and rushing to the bathroom. He nearly tripped running back with a hand towel, truly terrified that you weren’t going to be there, that you’d fade away. But there you were, splayed out on the bed with your eyes closed, a pretty smile on your face.

When you opened your eyes and directed that smile at him, he melted, crawling atop the mattress to kiss you again as he slowly wiped away the mess he made on you. You sighed, letting yourself relax as he cleaned.

Once he was done he pulled his bedsheets over you both, staring down at you with wide, watery eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh again, stroking your thumbs over his slightly dampened cheeks. “Everything okay?”

Bartolomeo couldn’t stop the words if he tried. “I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you saw your smile reflected in his eyes. “I love you, too.”

He pulled you close to his chest as you fell asleep, holding you as tight as he could without hurting you.

He was yours.

You were his.

Finally.

You awoke to find you and Bartolomeo lying diagonally across his bed, with him holding you close to his chest. His teddy bear he didn’t want falling off. You let out a content sigh, at first tempted to snuggle down closer and enjoy the heat radiating from him.

Unfortunately, your bladder demanded release, and his hold was just a little too firm to wriggle your way out of.

“Barto?”

He hummed, burying his face into your hair.

“Barto, I need to pee.”

He sighed, his breath tickling your neck as he muttered, “So go pee.”

You snorted, tugging at the arms around you. “Kinda need you to let me go first.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“You’d rather I pee the bed?”

He nuzzled the shell of your ear, purring, “Sounds kinky.”

“Eugh, gross !” you laughed, now squirming desperately to get out of his hold. “Not even remotelyappealing!”

He chuckled and lifted one arm to release you. “Go piss, girl.”

It took an embarrassing amount of effort not to laugh too hard as you ran across the hall to the bathroom. When you returned, Bartolomeo was sitting on the edge of the bed, the blanket half-draped over his lap doing little to disguise his morning wood. Sunlight managed to peek through the curtains, outlining him in a warm glow. His hair was a mess, half of it hanging over his face until he pushed it back with a yawn. When his eyes met yours, he smiled. Even with his fangs, the expression was soft, and brimmed with adoration.

How did you ever think he didn’t love you?

You smiled back and moved to stand between his knees. He took your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over them before he suddenly laid back, pulling you down with him. You squealed, giggling as he began peppering your face with kisses, trailing them down your neck and back up again. You pushed against him, fighting to sit back upright, but his arms kept you close, denying you relief from the onslaught of affection. He barely left enough room for himself to speak between kisses.

“I wanna—” chu “—spend every day—” chu “—just like this.—” chu “—Don’t wanna—” chu “—spend—” chu “—a single—” chu “—second—” chu “—without you.”

After a few more kisses, Bartolomeo paused, then sighed. “Now I gotta piss.”

“Guess you’re gonna have to spend just a few more seconds without me.” You kissed along his jawline. “Think you’ll survive?”

“I guess,” he whined, giving you one more squeeze before getting up. He gave you a wide, almost dopey smile at you over his shoulder as he left, then leaned back into the doorway and quickly said, “Stay right there. Gonna be right back.”

Another giggle bubbled forth from you as he darted off. With a happy sigh you shifted on the bed to lay on it properly, one hand slipping underneath his pillows. Your palm touched a different fabric than the pillow case, and your curiosity piqued. Curling your fingers you rolled onto your back and pulled the mystery fabric out, holding it over your head.

A small, light purple t-shirt, with the words “Bite Me” across the front in black, drippy font.

The bed fell out from beneath you. Everything in your periphery melted away. You sat upright, sliding your legs off the bed as you stared at the shirt in your hands. Your shirt. The one you lost not long after moving in. And it smelled like your perfume. How did it smell like your perfume? The shirt had been missing for months, it shouldn’t have still smelled like you.

Your stomach lurched. The world around you began to spin just a little too fast as a horrible chill crept up your spine. Movement out of the corner of your eye drew your attention to the door.

Bartolomeo was standing at the threshold, still as stone.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you asked a question you already knew the answer to.

“Why do you have my shirt?”

#ifdyokaat #one piece x reader #bartolomeo #bartolomeo one piece #bartolomeo the cannibal #bartolomeo x you #reader insert #i'll fucking digest you one kiss at a time #yandere #behold... the chapter i have lovingly called.... THE NUKE #for a couple of reasons #enjoy <3 #...while you can~

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lakemojave · 3 months

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I feel so bad that I didn't actually play resident evil 6 for my project last year. I based a lot of my opinions about it based off how wild its narrative content was and secondhand accounts about its gameplay. It's very easy to say "it's bad" just by looking at it, but playing the game itself reveals much deeper, more fundamental flaws that you don't get just watching a video essay or let's play.

Resident Evil 6 is attempting to be so many kinds of games at once, so it's actually so many kinds of bad at once. The first ten or fifteen minutes of the game are a slow crawl through dark corridors and university ballrooms; there are no enemies, just a series of tutorializing sections and thin attempts at building a tense atmosphere. It's extremely slow and dreadfully boring, which is crazy because all of this happens within seconds after shooting your best friend, the zombified president of the united states like a rabid dog.

It moves to a city in the midst of the first wave of a zombie outbreak, then a cathedral filled with traps, then a secret lab, then like three layers of medieval dungeon. The tone and genre intention of this section varies wildly, but it seems to be a repeat of the spare parts of Residents Evil one through four: first the abandoned opulent structure, then the burning city, then the gothic architecture complete with spike traps. The city section is actually really good because at this point there had been no reimagining of the Raccoon City destruction in a modern console, so the level of chaos and manic destruction at play with the return of more classic zombies to the series is extremely refreshing and fun. Then the cathedral happens and, after a pretty boring cemetery maze, there's a really good sequence of co op puzzles that harkens back to classic Resident Evil design. It's a good series of levels--the problem is that it's derivative.

It's not just derivative of it's own series, actually. For all the references to past games, Resident Evil 6 is assembled mostly from the spare parts of other popular action games from the 2010s. There's lots more mobility mechanics, way less ammo scarcity, absolute heaps of weak zombies, cover mechanics, swimming sections, and quick time event after quick time event. Combined with the artificial widescreen black bars, it's riffing off of Uncharted, Gears of War, and David Cage style design so closely. So many of the dungeon props and layouts look almost exactly like levels from Dark Souls or Skyrim, and when we get to Chris' campaign the tone is almost indistinguishable from Call of Duty: Modern Warfare. Is there an aspect of game design that was popular in the 2010s, or even just happened to appear in games that were popular in the 2010s? That mechanic is absolutely in Resident Evil 6.

When RE6 has an original idea, it is so patently ridiculous and unhinged that my immersion is immediately shattered and I can't possibly take the game seriously. When RE6 is borrowing an idea, it is so bland and anonymous that my immersion isn't given the respect it needs to form whatsoever. RE6 fluctuates between these two moods so repeatedly and with so little warning that experiencing the game first hand is like going to a haunted house and, instead of actually getting the proper experience, a guy in a room just beats the shit out of you. Is it scary? Technically it is, but not in the way I wanted, not in the way I enjoyed, and the experience was so painful that I could barely process what was happening.

Like all bad horror movies, if you're gonna experience Resident Evil 6 at all, I insist you do it with a friend. That is the only way to salvage the experience--to suffer with someone else.

#resident evil #re6

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spookie-bitch · 1 year

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I saw that in a scary movie once

Pairings: Tara Carpenter X Fem Reader

Contains: fluff, and angst

Warnings: Major scream 6 spoilers, mentions of death, blood, and violence.

Prologue: You and Tara first met in kindergarten and have been best friends since, and in the recent events you two have only gotten closer. Recently you have noticed new feelings arousing, mabey it was the way she looked at you with those honey brown eyes or the barrage of freckles plastered across her face but you felt there was something more that friendship in the feelings that you felt. You could only hope that she felt the same.

You, Tara, Sam, and Chad had just entered the theater,you and Tara thought it would be best to explore and get a good layout of the place before any problems arouse. You new that Sam was looking at the variety of old ghostface costumes that were put on display, so you and Tara opted to start somewhere close by and eventually decide on going too see what is behind a nearby door. It ended up being a room with some kind of front desk were people would usually buy their tickets and popcorn. You both spotted an old pack of some kind of candy and reached for it. "Oh, you can have it," you said to Tara when you noticed that she went for it too.

"No no, you can have it," said Tara. You were about to object when Tara said, "You think I want them, there like 100 years old." You both laughed lightly at her joke when she added, "maybe that's your thing." You stared at each other for a while just admiring each other's features not knowing what to say.

A smile formed in both of your faces. She looked at the candy, "I actually," she was cut off by your lips meeting hers. You weren't sure what got into you but you were glad that you did what you did because she returned the gesture without a second thought. "I should have done that a lot sooner," You said pulling away. "You really should have," she giggled. "But you could do it a lot more times," she said smirking. You both leaned back in before ghostface appeared, not giving either of you time to react. In one fluid movement, ghostface cut Tara in the back. You scream, grabbing her as her balance wavered from the unexpected attack. She topples to the side barley keeping herself on two feel. ghostface turns to you ready for their second attack. Their knife cuts through the air in multiple swift, calculated movements trying to land another hit. You were lucky enough to barley miss getting cut by the knife that you know all to well for all the wrong reasons.

As they try to stab you, you grab their arms and throw them against a glass case. Unfortunately their head wich was protected by the mask was the only thing that hit it causing them to get right back up. You didn't even think of running you only instinct was to fight. They swung their knife at you again, dodging it you punch ed them as hard as you could in the face.

They fell to the floor and when they tried to get back up again you kicked them in the gut hoping to buy you and Tara some time. You turned around and ran to Tara yelling, "Come-on Tara let's go, come-on, come-on, come-on!" When you open the door you both scream when Sam is unexpectedly at the other side of the door.

You yell, "go, go, go!" Not wanting to waste any time. When you close the door behind you Sam says, "It's Kirby, she's the killer." You mumble, "oh shit." as you run over to the elevator. As soon as you get there Sam says, "That's locked." You sigh throwing your hands up in the air and exclaim, "were trapped?" "She made this whole theater a kill box," says Sam, "for us."

"Hey, what about that," says Tara looking up, "There's an exit door." "Maybe it leads to the roof or something," she says panicked. "Well there's only one was to find out," you say, "let's go, let's go!" You all speed walk towards the ladder when ghostface jumps down in front of you all.

He swings him knife at Tara and she dodges it by flinging herself to the side and landing on the floor. They take a few more swings at you and Sam causing the knife that you didn't know that Sam had to fall to the floor along with her. Ghostface turns their attention to you and swings the knife at full power towards your neck, you dodged it but the mannequin behind you wasn't spared.

You charge at Ghostface knocking them over. Sam rushes towards Tara saying, "Tara come-on!" As she rushes over to Tara you take an old fashioned camera that was behind you and slam it against ghostface's head.

Sam and Tara run through the slightly see-through ghostface themed curtains with you following not far behind them. "This way," exclaimed Tara. You all run through the door that you lead to the front room that you and Tara first got attacked, ghostface not following far behind. You were last in the single file line that you all ran in down a tight hall with Tara in first and Sam in close second. Ghostface was about to catch up when you threw the camera at him.

When you rounded the corner you threw down the popcorn machine hoping that it would buy you all some time. But they were already right behind you and got around it in no time taking a few swings at you wich you dodged most but ended up being stabbed by one. Tara and Sam grabbed on arm each and slammed ghostface against the counter, pulling him off of you.

When they let go, you punched ghostface with all of your remaining strength. They fell to the floor and Tara kicked them in the face. "Careful, go," you yelled grabbing a small bubble gum machine. You were about to smash their face as hard as you could when you felt a knife enter your side.

You screamed in shear pain. As you fell to the floor. "NO!" screamed Tara. She made an attempt to run towards you but Sam grabbed her restraining her as the other ghostface got up. "Y/N," she screamed trying to loosen sam's grip on her as both of the ghostfaces held you down and stabbed you over and over.

At first it hurt more than anything you have aver experienced, but then you started to go numb blood dripping from your mouth. you thought, "Tara likes me back, she kissed me, maybe that's- your thoughts were cut off by Tara blood curling screech she let out. She screamed your name. It brought you back, the reaction of the girl who you loved most. Now, you were determined to live. But your vision started declining more and more.

Tara watched it horror as you were being stabbed dozens of times. As your seemingly lifeless body fell to the floor and Sam practically dragged Tara away as everything happened. It's not that Sam didn't care about you, it's just that she wasn't going to lose anyone else, especially her sister. Tara was dragged back through the door, both of the ghostfaces turning their attention to the sisters.

Tara and Sam ran through another door bringing them back to the main theater. As Tara ran towards one direction Sam rerouted Tara saying, "This way." Tara followed but didn't say a word, she was to stunned to really say anything, the only thing she could do was cry, so she did.As they ran towards the curtains one if the ghostfaces jumps through the curtains. Tara, still crying gets dragged by Sam turning around to run but the other ghostface is turning the corner.

Tara let's out a small scream as ghostface moves their knife in a motion signaling "NO."Sam turns around to see the other ghostface pointing their knife at the sisters. "Ready?" Asks Sam. Tara only whimpered in response. "I need you to be ready, ready." Says Sam holding a brick in her hand. Tara closes her eyes and swallows trying to calm herself down. "Look at me," says Sam. Tara turns her head to look at Sam. They look at each other for a few seconds until Tara says, "I'm ready."Turning her head back around. They are now back to back, one if the ghostfaces us in front of each of them. Tara gets a surtain surge if confidence and yells at ghostface, "Come-on MOTHERFUCKER!" Gunshots are fired in their direction causing everyone including the two ghostfaces to duck. The one in front of Tara crouches behind a table, the girls covering their heads due to them being out in the open. they look at the stage to see who is firing the gun to reveal Kirby.

Turns out it wasn't her after all."Stay the fuck back!" Says Sam as Kirby walks down the stairs with a tiered look on her face. "We know it's you Kirby." Says Tara. "No." Says Kirby walking towards them, "One of them... knocked me out!" Says Kirby gasping for breath."Stop!" Says someone in the distance. Kirby aimes the gun towards the newcomer making sure that they don't try anything. "Get away from the girls!" Says the unknown person. The sisters turn around revealing that the unknown person is none other than sheriff Wayne. Kirby and Wayne, guns pointed at each other. "What are you doing!?" Says Kirby on high alert. "Did you kill Quinn?" Asks Wayne tears in his eyes. "Did you kill my daughter?!" "Jesus Christ!" Exclaimed Kirby wide eyed. She looks at Sam and Tara with a confused look on her face."What ever he's been saying to you," says Kirby defensively, "don't listen to him!" "He's probably the killer," Kirby adds. As soon as the words leave her mouth ghostface comes through one if the doors."Behind you!" Screams Kirby. But Wayne didn't move, instead he shoots Kirby twice in the chest as ghostface makes their advance behind him. Sam and Tara look at Kirby with nothing but shock in their eyes as ghostface stands behind Wayne. Wayne has a half smirk on his face seeming accomplished by the murder of someone he had been working with for the past few days. The girls turn their heads to look at the killers standing in front of them. "Good job," says Wayne, ghostface turning to look at their comrade. The other ghostface joins Wayne's other side and the one in the left re- focuses on Sam and Tara. "Both of you," he adds.

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