#demon!au

The way he kissed you felt like he was hungry. Jungkook wasn’t hesitant or gentle, the way he kissed was something dangerously close to desperation.

And what shocked you most was that you kissed him back, you matched his pace instinctively.

And you enjoyed every second of it. 

It was a demanding and consuming kiss, like Jungkook had been deprived of something for far too long. Your hands gripped his shoulders, holding on as if you might fall otherwise.

The kiss deepened, slower for a few seconds before it turned greedier, as if something inside Jungkook that has been locked away for centuries, is now finally free.

And now that it is, there was no stopping it.

♡━━━ Start of NSFW ━━━♡

The world turned even more blurry as Jungkook’s hands roamed around your body. His touch felt electric and possessive. The making out session alone felt out of this world, and now his touch practically sent you to heaven.

You were not unaware of what is potentially going to happen and you did not mind it. It has been awhile for you too and you’re assuming it’s the same for him, since he’s been here for hundreds of years.

You did second guess yourself, were you really going to fuck a demon?

The rational answer would be no and that this was a being from another completely different realm that you spent months being terrified of.

So yeah, the obvious and rational answer was: absolutely not. 

But then Jungkook’s lips moved against yours and your brain, which have been making pretty reasonable points, just went completely offline. It just shuts itself down. 

You did wonder for a few seconds whether demons just have that sensual aura within them that makes it so hard for other beings to resist them.

You weren’t expecting anything, but it was not this. It was not the way Jungkook is kissing you like he has been starving for this. 

Whatever you were about to decide, whatever the rational conclusion was going to be, it became immediately and completely irrelevant the moment you registered what was actually happening. 

The way he kissed you was not the way anyone, any human, has ever kissed you. It was not comparable to anything in your past relationships and experiences. 

It was…. thorough, that was the only word that came to mind, which was a ridiculous word to use to describe a kiss, but was also the only accurate one you could think of. 

It was like Jungkoook identified exactly what you wanted, what you needed, and what you have been dreaming of in a kiss, and he obeyed and listened to all of it, and delivered it perfectly.

It was no wonder that angels go to demons for sex, even by the way Jungkook is kissing you, you knew this was going to be the best sex of your life.

You could feel Jungkook moving his hand down to the waistband of your pants. With a sound of pent-up need, he yanked them down, exposing your skin to the cool temperature. But you weren’t sure if it was just cold outside, or if it was his body radiating the cold.

His fingers were wasting no time in playing with your pussy. His fingertips softly touched your sensitive clit, making your cheeks flushed red. You gasped against his mouth, your pussy was already wet and needy from the heat between the two of you.

Jungkook rubbed your pussy from the outside before you could feel his long fingers circling your clit and putting two fingers inside you. 

“Oh, Jungkook,” you moaned, “that feels so fucking good!" you moaned as your hips started moving itself, taking his long fingers deep inside you. 

The sensation was overwhelming, and a rush of pleasure made you drop your head against his shoulders.

Jungkook shoved his fingers deeper into your wet pussy, making you moan loud enough that you instinctively placed a hand against your mouth because Taehyung was home, and the last thing you would want is for him to rush upstairs to check on you.

Your nails scratched against his wings out of pleasure, while his fingers pumped in and out of you.

At this point, you could feel Jungkook’s cock against his pants, and you just knew the size of it would literally take you out. 

It was torment for Jungkook, especially after seeing how completely red your face was. He couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction.

He wanted to fuck you right here and now, but he needed to make you even more wet than you are now, as his cock would only be hurting you if he didn’t. 

Jungkook also knew that him being a Demon would have driven your body to want him, even without you realising it.

Still, Jungkook was proud of himself for thinking this way, it meant that lust hasn’t completely taken over him. If it did, he would be fucking you without even thinking about how you would feel. 

For now, Jungkook focused on you.

As Jungkook’s fingers went deeper into your wet and throbbing pussy, your moans grew louder, there were different waves of pleasure that you felt with each thrust of his fingers. After a few more thrusts, Jungkook yanked his fingers out, leaving you panting, before crushing his mouth against yours in a rough kiss. 

You want him.

You want him so bad, your hands started fumbling at his waistband. You struggled with it for a few seconds, before finally freeing his big cock from the weight of his hundreds of years of torment.

Your legs wrapped tighter around his waist as Jungkook pinned you more firmly against the wall. Jungkook positioned himself at the entrance of your pussy, the tip of his cock teasing your swollen pussy, leaving his tip now wet with your juices. 

With his brows furrowed, Jungkook thrusted his dick into you with dominant force, burying himself deep inside your tight human pussy. Though it wasn’t your first time, the pain and pleasure was so great that you couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. 

Not in a million years did Jungkook ever think he would be fucking a human. 

He couldn’t help but be disgusted by the thought of humans, but looking at the way you are needy for him, for his cock, he pounded into you with even more force. 

You cried out, a blend of shock and ecstasy, as he filled you completely, his size stretching you in ways that combined pain and pleasure into one overwhelming sensation. Each powerful stroke drove the both of you towards the edge, and all this time he was thrusting in you, his eyes locked on yours, revealing to you the depth of his yearning and hunger. 

“You’re so fucking tight,” Jungkook moaned against your ear, making you throw your head back. It was so hot to hear what he felt while his cock was inside you.

As your bodies slammed together fast and hard, Jungkook grabbed your breasts through your shirt and ripped your shirt open. Your hard nipples popped out and Jungkook wasted no second to pinch and twist them. He fondled your breasts with one hand, before lowering his head to leave hickeys around your breasts. 

Jungkook started sucking your nipples after leaving hickeys all around your chests, and you moaned against his ear which made him thrust his cock even deeper into your wet and dripping cunt. 

With every thrust, Jungkook drove you towards pleasure you have never imagined, it was literally out of this world pleasure. His massive cock filled you so completely that your inner walls clung to him, every inch of him hitting your spots sent shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your whole body. 

You arched your back, and your breasts were bouncing freely, begging for more as his hands gripped your waist, pulling you down to meet his thrusts. The way Jungkook moved so aggressively turned your moans into breathless whimpers.

When you were about to cum, Jungkook slowed down just enough to press his mouth against yours. You melted into him, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer as your lips locked fiercely, Jungkook’s teeth played with your lower lip before sucking it gently, drawing out another moan from you. 

As the kiss broke, Jungkook sped up his thrusts, slamming his throbbing cock deeper into your dripping wet pussy. Sensing your orgasm coming, Jungkook continued thrusting his cock in and out of you.

It was all too much, you couldn’t and were not willing to hold your cum. You cried out as your pussy clenched his cock, and you whimpered into his ear as you cum all over his cock. 

But Jungkook was far from done. He started moving again, slowly grinding his hips and thrusting his cock against your pussy. 

It wasn’t until after you have cum for the third time that Jungkook yanked his cock out of your pussy.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pushed you down onto your knees, letting you drop from his embrace to the floor. His big cock, coated in your cum, was now just inches from your face. 

“Open your mouth,” Jungkook said and you obeyed. 

He shoved his cock in, stretching your jaw and hitting the back of your throat in one ruthless thrust. You couldn’t help but gagged, and you could feel your eyes watering as he gripped your head with both of his hands and fucked your mouth the way he fucked your pussy.

Jungkook’s groans turned deeper as he was about to cum. He buried his cock inside your mouth, while holding your chin up to look at him as he shot his cum down your throat, forcing you to swallow each and every single one of it.

♡━━━ End of NSFW ━━━♡

You fell asleep right away, you didn’t even know when or what was exactly happening when you fell asleep. But you were knocked out, it was like a light switch.

You didn’t have time to overthink your life decisions before falling asleep, you just fell asleep. 

It’s understandable though, you came three times in a row, with no quick breaks in-between and any human would’ve reacted the same way.

So, one moment you were aware of the surroundings, of the studio, Jungkook, and everything else around you. 

And the next, you felt your body touching the smooth bed sheet you owned. 

Jungkook had to carry you to bed, because you passed out in his arms. 

That was the Demonic trait in him, even angels can’t resist a fucking good sex with Demons. Jungkook was proud of it, he could now feel his lust being more controllable and he knew that he would master it again in no time. 

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

While you were asleep, Jungkook was wide awake.

He sat on the couch with his back against it, and he watched the ceiling and thought about nothing for a long time.

You were asleep in bed, and Jungkook could hear your breathing, slow and even, you were truly unconscious. He chuckled, proud of himself for knocking you out, giving you the best fuck of your life.

It’s a given, because Demons were made to be an expert in bed, any creature who’s ever had sex with a Demon, always ends up coming back for more. 

He was observing you before Jungkook noticed something. 

Something very strange. 

It was a subtle feeling at first. He felt a change in the air, but he thought he might have imagined it for a few minutes. 

Jungkook realised that he finally stopped hearing a sound that has been present for so long that it wasn’t bothering him anymore, and with a blink of an eye, the sound was just suddenly, simply, out of nowhere, no longer there.

Jungkook went very still.

He pressed his awareness outward, to scan the surroundings the way he learned to do in Kratos when something or someone was charging at him. 

Jungkook felt the room first, it felt the same yet different. He didn’t feel the usual boundary pressing back at him.  

Then he sees past the house, the streets, and the neighbourhood, and even the city beyond. He kept going and nothing stopped him.

And then Jungkook’s awareness was at the school, the one he assumed you worked in. Jungkook could see the kids filling the classes, Namjoon and Hoseok teaching in the school. 

Jungkook could see that far.  

Which meant the boundary was gone.

It is not weakened or cracked, the boundary is completely gone.

Gone, completely. 

Jungkook couldn’t believe what he was experiencing. He has been waiting for hundreds of years for this exact moment. For him to be able to go back to Kratos. 

He was completely taken aback by how easy it was for the curse to break. 

Then Jungkook stood up from where he was sitting.

He moved to the window, the one he stood near it for centuries, and looked out at the street below. The neighbourhood was quiet, he could see a few cars passing by and he could hear someone's dog barking two streets over.

Jungkook can leave this house.

The idea came to him with less surprise and excitement than he anticipated.

Hundreds of years, countless efforts and failures, he tried and failed multiple times to just walk out the door and now... Now he could actually go back to Kratos.

Behind him, you rolled over in your bed, covering yourself with the blanket all the way to your shoulders, and Jungkook heard you mumbling in your sleep before silence hit the room again. Jungkook looked out the window and did not think about anything for a long time.

Jungkook couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the curse broke.

That was what kept coming back to haunt him, like how he always tried to solve tactical problems from every angle, looking for the flaw in the plan.

The curse’s condition was affection from a human, a genuine feeling towards him from a human who was not terrified. 

Which meant that you are now no longer terrified of him. 

Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle. He remembered when you first came in, when you first brought up the priest and shaman, like they could be of any help for you. But he was amazed, taken aback, surprised, everything, that you, a mere human, are now no longer afraid of him.

Had it been any of his silly little plans of moving your things around? Did you become used to it and it somehow helped you be less scared of him? Was it what happened tonight? Was it the conversation, all those hours of you asking questions he answered genuinely? Or was it the sex?

Jungkook didn't know, the curse didn't exactly leave a footnote for him to understand what broke it. 

And it frankly doesn’t matter anymore.

Jungkook is now a free Demon. He can go back to Kratos and deal with his brother.

All he had to do now was find a way back across the boundary between realms, which required either the ancient ritual that requires a certain ancient fluid, or he could get help from an entity that could cross freely, and the most reliable of those was Jophiel.

To reach Jophiel meant Jungkook still needed you. 

Not that you could communicate with Jophiel, but an acquaintance of yours, Father Gabriel, could help Jungkook. 

He looked at you, who were still asleep, not realising what just happened. Not aware of what just shifted.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Jungkook sighed before turning his head towards the door that leads to the first floor of the house.

The door that for hundreds of years had been the one thing Jungkook could never cross. 

Jungkook didn’t think twice before walking across the studio towards the door, he put his hand on the door handle and felt the cool handle under his hand. 

He stepped onto the stairs, and kept walking, half-bracing himself for the familiar smoke-and-snap he’s back into the studio.

He was expecting the humiliation of finding himself back at the centre of the studio like nothing happened. 

It didn’t come.

Nothing happened.

He was in the middle of the staircase, then the bottom of it.

Then he took the last step and his foot met the ground floor, and he was standing in the hallway of a small human house he had only ever heard from above.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The ground floor of the house felt like a different world.

Jungkook knew it existed, obviously, he heard it for hundreds of years. Every conversation, every door, every laugh from Jimin and every quiet movement from Yoongi and every youtube video Taehyung watched in the kitchen while he cooked. 

Jungkook walked around and stood in the living room of a human house and looked at photographs and felt, precisely and without drama, the weight of hundreds of years of not being able to do this.

He walked to the kitchen. And the kitchen smelled like whatever Taehyung cooked the night before. There was a stack of cookbooks beside the refrigerator, one of them open to a page with a handwritten note.

Jungkook walked towards the back door leading to the backyard and opened it.

A chair was left out in the backyard and had gone slightly weathered, there was a potted plant that needed water, and the fence that separated the house from the neighbour’s house behind it.

He stood in the backyard with his wings fully spread because there was finally room for them, and he looked up at the earth sky.

It was gray, not red and no smoke. There was no heat from the ground reminding him of where he came from.

He stood there for a long time, but Jungkook will soon be in Kratos again.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Taehyung is a light sleeper.

Always has been, which was why he chose the room furthest from the street when he first moved in, and why he kept white noise on low through a speaker on his bedside table.

So when he heard movement downstairs at an hour he knew Yoongi and Jimin would still be at the office, he was sitting up in bed before he fully decided to be.

He sat still for a moment, listening.

You were home, he knew that much. You told the group chat you were sick, and Taehyung passed Namjoon in the hallway on his way out after visiting you, and even talked for a little bit with him. 

But you were sick and are probably upstairs, and yet he could hear that someone was moving around in his kitchen.

He got up, pulled on a hoodie, and walked quietly through the hallway and towards the kitchen.

He was expecting you, or maybe Yoongi or Jimin coming home earlier than usual.

But no, it wasn't either of them.

There was something, someone standing in the kitchen.

And that someone was not you, or Jimin or Yoongi.

He was tall, with broad shoulders, and was standing facing away from him, which was the only reason why Taehyung didn't immediately make a sound.

Something about the stillness of the figure, the way it wasn't moving, made him stop in his steps instead of doing anything sensible like reaching for his phone to call 911.

Taehyung squinted his eyes.

The back was bare and broad with muscle. 

The back of whoever or whatever was standing in the kitchen was built by violence and had the record of violence written all over into the skin.

Because there were scars everywhere.

The scars were long diagonal slashes that ran from the left shoulder all the way down across the spine, to Taehyung it looked like the kind of scars that only came from something with enough force behind it to mean it.

Other scars crossed over them, going the other way. Some shorter, some curved in a way that made Taehyung's stomach turn slightly because he couldn't figure out the angle or size of the thing that would have caused a scar like that.

And on top of it all, it had wings.

The wings were darker than black, which Taehyung thought wasn’t possible. 

He stood in the other side of the kitchen for what was probably ten seconds even though it felt considerably longer.

And then the figure turned around.

Taehyung saw his face and the horns.

Horns. It had fucking horns.

Taehyung never imagined in a million years that he would see a thing.. something.. or maybe a ghost.. in his house.

So Taehyung screamed, hoping someone would rescue him from this nightmare.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

You woke up from your nap because of a scream.

You immediately sat up, taken aback by the way you were woken up. The studio was usually quiet even with Jungkook around, so you knew the scream came from downstairs. 

You looked around the studio; the desk, the couch, the kitchen, then, the window, it was empty. The studio was empty and you were alone.

Which should have been fine and is completely fine because sometimes Jungkook just decides to make himself invisible or pulls his presence in so tightly that the air doesn't react to him. 

You knew this because you’ve lived with him for months, and the absence of him didn't mean he was gone.

But… it just felt weird. You sat still on your bed for a few seconds and felt the atmosphere in the room, the studio felt warm.. warmer.

Not the warmth from the lamp, blanket, or your own body heat, but warmth the way a room is warm when it has a heater on. 

You’ve lived in this studio for months and you had not once, not for a single morning, woken up to the room that felt like this. 

But now the room is warm.

You put your feet on the floor and the floor was just floor, not the “slightly-colder-than-it-should-be” floor you’ve been stepping onto every day for months.

You were confused, trying to figure out what happened, why the floor was warm, and the studio felt empty. And the first thing that came to mind made you gasp.

Is Jungkook gone?

Then before you could even analyse further, you remembered you were woken up by a scream. 

Someone screamed from downstairs and you’ve been so disoriented by the warmth in the room and the empty studio that you almost forgot that someone might have an emergency.

You grabbed the first thing within reach, which was Jungkook's shirt that was on the floor, which you put on without thinking about it because the alternative was running downstairs in considerably less.

So you ran downstairs.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Your instinct told you to go to the kitchen, and you knew it was right.

You registered the scene in pieces: Taehyung on the floor, he was not hurt. But he was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, hands pressed over his mouth, his eyes wide and fixed on the other side of the kitchen.

Taehyung definitely looked like his understanding of the world has been revised very rapidly and without him asking for it.

And you also saw.. Jungkook.

Yes, you saw Jungkook in the kitchen..? you were so confused you kept looking at Jungkook while shaking your head at him.

Jungkook was standing next to the kitchen counter. With no shirt on, his wings and horns visible, and his expression just looked very unbothered by the scene happening in front of him.

He looked different.

You have seen Jungkook a hundred of times, and you saw him even more closely today. You couldn't help but blush at the thought of looking at him more closely.

But this was different, something in Jungkook has changed. 

Jungkook looked terrifying, scarily terrifying, and some part of you agreed with your fear and without any argument. Yet underneath the terror was something else, something that might have been awe.

"Jungkook," you said, shaking your head from thinking about Jungkook and awe in one sentence.

He looked at you, still looking unbothered.

"Did the curse break?"

The corner of his mouth formed into a smirk, "It did," he replied.

You eyes got bigger as you processed what you just heard.

The curse is broken, and Jungkook is free. 

Which meant Jungkook could go back to Kratos, to the citadel, to the red sky and the north tower. 

Jungkook won't be needing you anymore.

The thought arrived quietly and settled somewhere in your chest with a weight you did not prepare for.

You looked at him standing in Taehyung's kitchen, he was enormous, unhidden, and completely free, and you tried to figure out what your face was doing and whether you had any control over it.

Apparently you did not have enough control of your expression, because Jungkook was watching you with that particular attention of his and his expression shifted slightly.

"Why are you terrified?" he asked, and then, because he was Jungkook, the demon prince, and the curse was broken which meant he apparently has nothing left to lose, he added, "you just came on my cock three times and swallowed my cum and you’re terrified of me?"

From the floor, Taehyung made a loud gasp.

You couldn’t look at Taehyung after what Jungkook just shared without your consent.

"I wasn't expecting it to happen so fast," you said, which was true, "and I need you to change the way you look, put a shirt on, hide the wings and horns. Taehyung is…." you glanced at Taehyung briefly, "Taehyung is on the floor."

Jungkook looked at Taehyung on the floor, then back at you.

For a moment you thought he was going to refuse, because he is free now and has no particular reason to do anything you asked.

He didn’t need you anymore and you didn’t know why you felt sad..? you questioned your own thoughts and feelings.

Then you heard Jungkook sighed. It was just one short exhale, he definitely found you asking him to do something mildly irritating, but the air around him shifted the way it does when he is choosing how much of himself to show.

The wings folded and disappeared, the horns were gone. 

Now Jungkook looked like a very large and unreasonably attractive human male with no shirt on, which was its own problem but a significantly more manageable one.

Then a shirt appeared, and you have stopped being surprised by all of this months ago. But it was all new to Taehyung and, from the floor, Taehyung said: "What the actual fuck!"

"I know," you said. "What?" Taehyung asked again. "I know."

"That's a..” he stopped, looked at Jungkook for one second before fear took over Taehyung again, then he looked back at you, "What the fuck is that?"

"It’s a demon," you said.

"You’re funny," Taehyung said, laughing nervously at you.

"I am a Demon," Jungkook said, which Taehyung ignored out of fear. You sighed, “I know it’s hard to believe but he is a demon, Taehyung.”

"A demon… with no shirt on.." Taehyung laughed at himself and whatever the fuck he saw today. Was this all still a dream? It would make total sense because Taehyung was asleep before all of this happened.

"He has a shirt on now," you replied.

"He didn't thirty seconds ago," Taehyung argued, still laughing nervously.

"Taehyung," you called his name to calm him down. "Why," Taehyung said, very carefully with a shaky voice, "is there a demon in my kitchen ____?"

You looked at Jungkook, who was leaning against the counter with his arms folded and the expression of someone, somedemon, who found human fear mildly entertaining.

"We should sit down," you said.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Taehyung, it turned out, was significantly more composed once he had five minutes to think and five minutes of silence, and a glass of water.

He sat at the kitchen table, you sat across from him, and Jungkook stood near the counter because Taehyung did not want Jungkook to be near him, which was very understandable.

"Okay," Taehyung said. He had both hands around his glass of water and his eyes were directly looking at yours rather than at Jungkook, which again, was very understandable, "Okay, start from the beginning."

You took a breath, before starting to explain to Taehyung why there is a demon in the kitchen, "You know how the studio has always been cold," you said.

"Yes."

"And a lot of your tenants left."

"Yes," Taehyung said, more quietly.

"That was him or his doing," you said, "he has been in the studio since before you bought the house. Since before anyone you know was born, probably. He's from…" you paused, "he's from Kratos, which is a specific part of Hell that's structured differently from what you'd imagine when you think of hell. It's basically where the powerful demons live."

"Right," Taehyung said, shaking his head, not really believing anything coming out of your mouth.

"He was cursed here," you continued,  “bound to the studio specifically and he couldn't leave the second floor. That's why the tenants before me always felt watched but nothing ever happened outside the studio, he literally couldn't go anywhere else."

Taehyung took a few minutes of silence to process this, "So he has been in this house," he said slowly, "for how long?"

"Longer than the house has existed," Jungkook said, from the counter.

Taehyung flinched at the sound of Jungkook's voice then composed himself, or at least tried to, "Right," Taehyung said again.

"The curse had a condition," you said, deciding that some details were probably not necessary at this specific moment, "and tonight the condition was met, which means the curse broke. Which is why he is..” you gestured at the kitchen, "down here."

"He can go anywhere now," Taehyung said.

"Yes."

"Is he going to hurt us?" Taehyung asked quietly. 

"No," Jungkook said, "because you are not worth the effort.”

"Okay," Taehyung said, nodding fastly, still looking at you and still holding his glass of water, "okay, so, there is a demon who has been living in the studio upstairs for…. longer than this house and you knew about this."

"Since about week two," you stated.

"And you stayed?" Taehyung asked, his mind blown by your life choices.

"The commute is very good," you defended yourself.

Taehyung stared at you, still mind blown,“The commute?"

"And the rent," you said, "and you're a good landlord and Jimin and Yoongi are nice."

"You stayed in a haunted studio because the rent was cheap," Taehyung said.

"And the commute."

Taehyung looked at you like he has just discovered an entirely new category of stupidity.

“You’re insane,” he said.

“I’m practical and logical.”

“You are living with a demon.”

“Was,” Jungkook corrected from the counter.

Taehyung opened his mouth to say something else, but Jungkook stopped moving so suddenly that you turned to look at him. His expression changed first, the irritation he felt towards Taehyung slipping away from his face as his eyes shifted past you, not towards the hallway, not towards the stairs, but towards the empty space beside your shoulder.

Then Jungkook’s voice dropped lower, if that was even possible, when he muttered, “Seokjin.”

You didn’t have time to register what he said or what he meant, you also didn’t have the time to turn around or deflect, before something cold touched the side of your neck. 

It was not a hand grabbing you, not an attack you could react to, it felt like two fingers pressing lightly against your skin, almost gentle, and then something wet and freezing spread beneath them.

Jungkook moved immediately. 

One second he was near the counter, saying ‘Seokjin’, and the next he was behind you, he was so fast, the force of his movement sent things in the kitchen clattering off the counter.

Jungkook moved so fast, he even took Taehyung by surprise and made him fall from the chair. 

His hand reached for your arm, but Seokjin was just faster, and he came with a vial already emptied out against your skin.

That was the problem.

The ancient liquid touched you right before Jungkook could stop what was happening. It moved under your skin like ink dropped into water, spreading from your neck down your chest, through your veins, cold enough to make your knees weaken. 

Jungkook’s hand closed around your wrist, but his grip suddenly felt distant, like your body was already being pulled somewhere his strength could not reach.

Seokjin smirked at his younger brother, “Too late,” he said.

Jungkook’s eyes dropped to the silver-black stain crawling across your skin, and for the first time since the curse broke, you saw panic on his face. 

Real panic. 

Not anger, not arrogance, but you could see something raw across Jungkook's face as he pulled you back against his chest and locked his arm around your waist like he could physically keep you in the world if he held on tightly enough.

But the room was already starting to get even more blurry and distant for you.

The kitchen lights stretched into thin white lines. Taehyung’s voice seemed so far away like he was somewhere distant. The floor disappeared beneath your feet even though Jungkook was still holding you, and that was when you understood why he looked so terrified. 

Seokjin did not come to fight him. He did not come to overpower Jungkook, he only needed three seconds with the one thing Jungkook did not have: a way through.

Jungkook’s wings tore out of his back so violently that glass shattered somewhere behind him. His grip tightened around you, almost painful now, but you clung to him anyway, fingers twisting into his shirt because he told you to hold on without even saying it. 

For half a second, you thought it might work. You thought Jungkook’s strength, his rage, and his desperation would be enough to keep you there.

Then Seokjin leaned closer, his smile brushing the side of your face, “Sadly, he does not have the key to go to Kratos.”

Then in one second, Jungkook’s hand was ripped from yours all at once. One moment his body was behind you. And the next, there was nothing. 

No kitchen. 

No Taehyung. 

No Jungkook. 

Just Seokjin’s hand on your neck and the horrible silence of wherever this place is.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Back in the kitchen, Jungkook stood frozen with his fingers curled around empty air. The space where you were was empty. 

Taehyung was still on the floor, breathing rapidly, staring at the empty space where you disappeared, “What the fuck just happened?! Where is ____?!” he asked, his voice shaking.

Jungkook did not answer. 

Jungkook lowered his arm slowly, his expression made Taehyung, wisely, choose not to look at Jungkook directly again.

The curse was broken and Jungkook could leave the house. 

Jungkook could walk through doors, cross streets, and stand beneath the Earth sky. But he still could not cross realms, not without the ancient liquid, not without Jophiel.

Not without you.

Ghost had watched the tour, he had been here long enough that the very walls of the factory were part of him. He could be everywhere and nowhere, it took very little energy to monitor the tour, to learn the plans these boys had for his domain.

Another group of wannabe ghost hunters, little boys with their video cameras and voice recorders, and beating hearts that raced when they tried to act tough.

Gonna be a killer backdrop for the new episode.

The fans are gonna eat this the fuck up.

Get your girl all dolled up and then we can scare the shit out of her.

At first it had all been meaningless to Ghost, the tour, the plans, the boys entering the incinerator room and standing in the shadow of the beastly relic. This is where Ghost did the most work because this was the place under his control, his connection to this realm was strongest.

It was the place he had been boen into this world.

Then they were gone, slipping out like they had never been here at all.

But they returned, with more gear, more cameras, more people. It was tiresome. The talking, the lights, the smells. Sweaty men hunched over, setting up equipment, already dressed for the much cooler night with their cargo pants, black sweatshirts, and beanies pulled down to cover thinning hair.

Ghost could smell their desires, their dreams, even the ones they pushed down and would never admit. It came with the territory, you couldn't make a deal with the devil if the devil didn't know what they were working with.

These people wanted fame, fortune and fucking. It was tediously boring.

Ghost typically didn't bother to plan how he would mess with his visitors, he simply was there and when the fancy struck him he would act. But there was something about this bunch that irked him. The leader of the group, with his preening in any reflective surface he could find, would be Ghost's target, get him alone and give him something to be properly scared about.

Any other night he would have lazed around as the men worked, faceless crew after faceless crew preparing for the investigation. He would have waited until late into the night to make his move, let them work themselves up and wait until their guard was down, their eyes heavy with sleep, when their own imaginations would do most of the work for him.

It would have been just another night for him had you not arrived.

Ghost felt you before he saw you. His target had left at some point in the evening, his words meaningless to Ghost, all that mattered was the promise to return.

What Ghost had missed in his apathy towards the men was that the promise was to return with you.

Ghost starts to piece it together, the bits and pieces of words and phrases that he's picked up on. You are the one the other men plan to scare, you are the one they plan to tie up all nice and pretty for him. He saw the ropes, the carefully moved furniture, the cleared area on the floor because this idiot may be dumb enough to bring you here into Ghost's lair but he cared enough about you to make sure you weren't lying on rocks and twigs and all the other trash that had been dragged in over the years.

Ghost studies the leader with a renewed interest. Ghost's target is more than just some friend to you, he's your boyfriend, your lover. Ghost pays attention to his desires, the way he looks at you when you climb out of the back of the van, changed into an outfit that felt out of place among the rest of the crew.

You call the man Jake, your voice is soft and placating when you speak to him. You could be a goddess, but you make yourself small for this boy.

Ghost may primarily know a human's desires, but he can know other things, he can feel your unease as you pull at the bottom hem of the skirt and your frown is strong enough to cut through everything else. It's twisted around in your desire to be anywhere but here.

Beneath that unease, beneath that desire to leave? A simmering, burning rage that grows stronger as you walk around the factory, as you stand to the side while the other little boys play with their toys.

You are a gift from the universe to Ghost, and he will gladly accept.

The hunger is back.

The gnawing hunger. The same one he felt the night he was summoned here. It's hard to ignore as the men go about their work, so many tasty treats for him to sink his teeth into. They can't see him, not now, even if he tried he would be no more than a shadowy figure. He needed to focus, to pull himself back together.

Pull himself back together so that he can have you all to himself.

He's patient, he doesn't crowd you, doesn't want you to feel his presence looming over your shoulder. He takes his time knitting back together the tendrils that had snuck further away from him. Ghost is the thing that exists just out of sight, just over your shoulder, just in the periphery. The parts of him that he pulls back are the things that give life to dark shadowy corners of the plant, they are that feeling of being watched, of being touched, phantom fingers that touch the backs of necks.

Ghost stays at the far edge of the room, an office that was long abandoned before he had been summoned here. He watches with little interest as your boyfriend directs the crew. It's obvious that he enjoys the attention, enjoys being the center of attention. His desire to be a star leaves an arid taste in Ghost's mouth. But he isn't the only one, there is another one whose desire for stardom is strong.

Ghost can make him a star.

His name is Liam. Ghost can taste Liam from where he stands, stitching himself together. He's talking to someone else on the crew, whispering something that has the other crew member smiling viciously, looking across the room at you.

can't wait to see the fatty all tied up.

bet you twenty she cries.

You are too far away to hear what they are saying, but Ghost can see that you shift from foot to foot, eyes darting around the room. These men do not deserve you, that idiot boyfriend of yours doesn't deserve you.

the fans are going to fucking love the ritual, she's a waste of space otherwise.

Ghost can't take it anymore, he wishes he had his body already, he would risk your fear if it meant he could rip this man's throat out. He doesn't have the energy for that yet, but he lashes out regardless, his hand passing through the equipment closest to him, until something sticks, his fingers catch on the stand of a light, pushing at it until the top heavy fixture falls to the floor with a crash.

You scream, the sound cuts through everything Ghost is, halting all thoughts until there is only you. He licks his lips, he can taste your fear on the air, a delicious bouquet compared to the stench of the men around you.

If your fear tastes this good he cannot wait to taste your desire right from the source.

By the time you are being led to him he feels the more solid than he has since he was summoned here. He can do far more damage now than making things go bump in the night, can do more than ghostly ghastly touches on the back of necks. Knocking over the lamp was just the beginning.

Ghost has plans now, his own desires that he needs a body for. He might not have had a need for fame or fortune but fucking, the need to fuck you might have been a stronger than the hunger.

The air was thick with the scent of your fear as your boyfriend guided you to the floor. That and the rage. The rage sat heavy on Ghost's tongue as he let it hang from his mouth, the firm feeling of it undulating was foreign after so long incorporeal.

With you tied up all nice and pretty for him, the boyfriend started to talk. Ghost was used to this, they were all the same, the tragedy, the terror, the spirits, the rumors of something more, something before. Ghost had never seen anything in his time here to suggest there was more than him, no ghosts, no lingering presences.

Miserére nobis; súscipe deprecatiónem nostram.

It wasn't the right words, not really, but Ghost felt the intent behind them, the desire, the trickle of power.

You were a perfect little lamb for him, a suitable sacrifice to pacify his hunger, one of his hungers. The rest of them, the bleating sheep who saw this as their moment in the spotlight? He would devour them as well.

Ghost would eat well.

First, he needed to take care of his lamb.

Then he could finish the ritual.

He waited patiently as the crew did their final checks. And then they were gone and you were left with your thoughts.

Ghost crept forward, his movements silent, his shadowy form flickering in and out of existence. It was tedious to be so present.

Your thoughts were loud as you fought against your restraints. Ghost tasted your frustration on the air, tongue whipping around in search of more.

Ghost found no love, no warmth, no longing in your feelings, your only desire was for your boyfriend to return and free you. Yet you stubbornly said nothing, laying there like the good lamb you were.

You deserved more.

Ghost would give you more.

In this form Ghost couldn't see the whole factory the way he typically could, but he could still sense that the crew had started their investigations, could tell they were spread out across the sprawling property, their cameras turned on, the lights turned off.

The perfect hunting grounds.

You were still quiet, silent as you gritted your teeth and pulled against the rope. Silent as you raged internally against the world. Silent until he took the first corporeal step against the gritty concrete floor. Followed by a second and a third.

"I'm actually really mad at you right now, Jake. You're such a fucking asshole, you know that?"

Jake.

Jake's fear would taste delicious as Ghost carved out his heart and completed the ritual.

You wouldn't have to worry about ending things with him, Ghost would take care of that for you.

He let you curse the man you thought he was, let you fight against the restraints, your anger curling in around him, his form strengthened by the hate and the rage and the want.

He could help you in so many ways.

You drew him in in a way no other ever had. You were a flame and he was a moth searching for the sun.

Ghost reached out a hand, the form stuttering as he focused on keeping himself together, keeping himself solid. His knuckles pressed against the soft skin of your cheek, it was tender. Your skin was cool, chilled by the frigid air.

He didn't want to stop, you begged for him to let you go, you didn't recognize the difference between his touch and the touch of others, but you would. He would brand himself into you, into your skin, into your soul. There wouldn't be a part of you that didn't recognize him.

Your anger, even misdirected at him, aroused him. Desire moving him forward as he tossed away the dagger, guiding his hands to slip beneath your sweatshirt. He peeled back your one piece of warmth to reveal your lush curves, the peaks of your breasts, hard nipples pressed against the thin material of your shirt, the bra you wore doing little to contain you.

Ghost ran a finger over one of those peaks, relishing in the way your shivered, the way you pressed up for more, the way your moaned, low in your throat. You were fighting your desire, fighting your arousal, but you couldn't hide it from him.

He needs more, he needs everything you have to offer.

You want him to fuck you, he feels your arousal, smells it sticky in the air. You words, dripping like honey on his tongue, begging for it, for more, for everything.

"The camera, babe, please let me go."

Babe. The word gives him pause, because you might want this, but you don't yet know that you want him.

And the cameras. He's not sure what they would even pick up of him in the form, not once since he had been trapped here has he been photographed or filmed in this form, corporeal and whole. He's always been the dark, shadowy figure in the corner of the frame.

He could disrupt it, it would be annoying if one of those other crew members were to notice something off with their offering. Ghost would hate to be interrupted before he was done with you. And yet, he wanted the footage for himself, he wanted to be able to relive this moment over and over. The moment he was offered salvation.

But he sensed your unease, the shift in your emotions. He wanted you present, he wanted you to enjoy this as much as he was.

Reluctantly he untangled himself from you, standing and stretching his unused muscles before walking to each camera and clicking it off the way he had watched crew after crew do.

When he returned he knelt at your side, reaching out and pressing a warm hand to your cheek. The surprise you felt at the touch, the aching loss of something Ghost couldn't understand because he couldn't comprehend why you were with a man so clearly undeserving of you.

Ghost would devourhis soul, and then he would eat the flesh from his bones and maybe that would be enough. And if not, there were plenty of other members of the crew who had wronged you, who were deserving sacrifices to complete the ritual.

It doesn't take much to push his way between your thighs, making a space for himself, the weight of your legs on his thighs further grounding him.

Ghost doesn't waste time, his fingers exploring every inch of your skin, the peaks and valleys of your curves, maneuvering you until you're in a position that leaves you perfectly exposed to him.

Your newfound arousal was dizzying, and Ghost could forgive you for mistaking him for your lover, for wishing it was him that was touching you. There would be plenty of time for you to make it up to Ghost.

"Please," your voice was breathy, desperate, you arched up looking for more, something to finally touch you.

Ghost flipped up your skirt, claws careful of your skin as he rips through the tights to separate you from him. Claws sheathed, he rubs a finger along the sticky wetness that clung to the thin material of your panties, gathering as much as he could before taking his first taste of you.

He swallowed down the growl he was certain would give him away, a possessive heat building in his chest as he tried to ignore the fact that you thought this attention, this arousal was all for another man.

Ghost was more than a man, more than any human, he could give you more than any mere mortal ever could.

He couldn't wait, he slipped his fingers beneath the drenched panties, his thumb finding your clit, slick with need and throbbing for attention. Your muted whimpers had him aching for more, aching to fill you. It wouldn't take, but Ghost could certainly try.

You clenched your teeth, jaw clicking, neck straining as you tried to be quiet. Ghost wanted your sounds, wanted to know that his fingers were just as skilled after years trapped here.

"I'm gonna cum," your words were hurried, repeating over and over. Ghost knew what was coming before you did, he could feel your pleasure building in a way no other lover of yours had understood before him. A sense of understanding that was innate, a part of him, his pace and pressure adjusting in just the right way, until your back arched and something in you let go.

It was enough to snap his control, his hands gripping at the flimsy fabric of your panties, the material tearing with the most minimal of effort before he was plunging two fingers into the wet, hot heat of your cunt, your walls fluttering around him, the tension of your previous orgasm still coursing over you.

The afterglow was not enough to distract you from the difference between Ghost's fingers and those of your former lover. Ghost could sense your confusion, could see the way your brow furrowed beneath the blindfold.

He couldn't have you ruining their fun.

Ghost curled his fingers, feeling for that spongy spot that he knew would have you seeing stars, fingers pressing firmly against it once he found it. An unrelenting pressure that had you losing focus of your thoughts.

Ghost couldn't help but rock his hips forward, hard cock pressed against your ass, teasing himself knowing it wouldn't take much for him to slip his fingers free of you and replace them with his cock.

If you thought his fingers were unrecognizable, you had never taken a cock like his before.

"Fuck me, please fuck me."

His fingers stopped without thought, pulling out from your cunt to give space for his cock. He shifted, his cock resting against you, the touch of your skin against him, unbidden, exposed.

It wouldn't take much for him to cum at this rate.

He rolled his hips forward, his cock resting at the apex of your thighs, his shaft slipping through your slickness, the smooth glide against your clit had your hands clenching again, the pleasure an almost tangible thing.

You wanted him now, he might not have been able to know your exact thoughts, but your desire, despite the confusion, despite the fact that his cock was nothing like what your boyfriend had, despite the fact that some part of you knew something was wrong…your desire was strong.

Ghost had never contemplated his death, never contemplated what came next for a being like him, born of sin, already tethered to a hellish existence, but as he slipped into the sweet heat of your cunt he thought he might just understand heaven.

He wanted nothing more than to stay with you, to burrow beneath your skin, to make you his, body and soul. But the cracking of the walkie, the grating voice of your lover and his companions broke the spell. Ghost would have to deal with them before he could deal with you.

He felt the fear creeping in, your desire shifting from that primal desire that clung to his tongue to something bitter and burnt.

That wouldn't do.

"Thought I would have more time with you, lamb."

"What are you?"

Was there an answer to that question? A demon or devil? Recently the thing that went bump in the night, the ghost that haunted these halls. He was no longer the trickster waiting at the crossroads to prey on the desperate, the destitute, the ones who had no other choice but to make a deal.

He would be whatever you wanted of him.

"I am your redemption, your salvation," he murmured the words into your neck, the tinny voices from the walkie distracting you, pulling your attention away from him, away from where it belongs.

He pressed forward, the fit deliciously tight as his cock bullied its way further into you. You clenched around him despite the hesitancy, despite the fear.

You wanted him.

You needed him.

He needed you to want him, to wait for him to avenge you, wait for him to free himself from this cage that those idiots had unwittingly locked him in, and then, then the world would be at your disposal.

You needed to see him. He did not wait to consider the impression seeing him in this form might have. His fingers moved mindlessly, slipping beneath the tear soaked blindfold and pulling it off your face.

You blinked, lashes clumped with tears, eyes wide as you struggled to look anywhere but at him. What would you see?

It doesn't matter, once he has taken care of his hunger he can be whatever you want him to be. He leans forward, whispering promises to return, promises he will keep.

Ghost indulges himself, tasting you one last time before leaving. He has work to do.

First, Ghost would find the man who was stupid enough to insult you.

Liam.

He wasn't hard to find. Liam had drawn the killing floor from the hat.

The ground here was soaked with the blood of slaughtered animals. The narrow walkways used to guide the beasts from the holding area to where they were killed, drained of blood, their carcasses then carted off for processing. The complex series of pulleys had long ago rotted from the ceilings, but the paths were still visible, some of the meat hooks still littered the dark corners.

Many visitors found this room unsettling.

Liam was already afraid before Ghost found him. He stood alone, his head darting from side to side while he talked to the camera. He had one of the handhelds, using the screen of it to see what the night vision saw. His steps were slow, careful. He looked where he stepped each time, occasionally stopping to take a reading.

Ghost had watched countless investigations, with varying degrees of interest. It was easy to manipulate the equipment, to create spikes on EMF detectors, create hot spots and cold spots. If he wanted he could interact through the Ovulus or the spirit box and maybe it had been fun at first, in the early years when the technology was new and Ghost had been trapped here long enough to crave the attention, the connection with the outside world.

But now, he was going to use it to his advantage.

There was an area of the factory where a leak had started years ago, the constant drip drip dripping of water each time it rained had eaten away at the wall there, over time corroding the cement flooring until it was near to crumbling. The groundskeeper had yet to notice it, in his youth he might have, might have seen the cracks growing across the floor in the corner of the cavernous room, but he was older now, Ghost knew about the cancer that was eating away at his bones and was not yet uncovered by his doctors.

The neglect meant that there was a place where the flooring was just as brittle as that old man's bones. A little bit of pressure, one wrong step and it would come crumbling down. It wouldn't take much.

It wouldn't be a kind death to whoever had the misfortune of stepping on that spot. If they were lucky they would fall just right to break their neck, crush their head, but if they were unlucky, if their name was Liam and they had a devil watching over them?

Ghost slipped through the dark with ease, letting the air cool around him as he went. Liam would feel the cold spot, he was steps away from the trail.

Like clockwork the man froze, eyes wide as he looked around the room.

"Woah, I just walked through a crazy cold spot. I'm talking frigid. Look at my arms."

He flashed the camera over his arm, the goosebumps visible on the screen.

"Let me get out the infrared thermo and get some readings."

Liam placed his handheld on the floor, fumbling with the gear in his backpack until he found what he was looking for. He thumbed over the buttons on the thermal camera until it blinked to life. Ghost watched the screen light up from over Liam's shoulder. It wasn't like the screens with the night vision, this one was lit with an array of reds and blues.

Standing back up, Liam held the thermal camera out in front of himself, pointing it off in the direction of the sagging floor. In the night vision you couldn't pick up on the dark ring, the discolored concrete, the hairline cracks that spread from the weak spot. You also couldn't see the colors of the thermal camera. Liam cursed, clicking through the settings until the handheld was capturing nothing but the lit up screen of the thermal camera, the reds and the blues that swirled around him.

"Woah, guys, this is crazy, I have never seen readings like this. Those blue areas of like super cold. I've got chills."

Ghost grinned, feeling the skin of his face shift with the movement, pulling against long healed scar tissue. A monster when he wanted to be, when he needed to be. He wondered what that silly little camera would pick up when he walked across the screen, would it show just the shadow of a figure? Or would it show the monster he was, the horned mask of bone he wore over his own monstrous features? The trailing claws, the prehensile tail that whipped out behind him as he walked towards Liam's doom?

"Holy shit," Liam said with a kind of reverent awe. Whatever he saw on the screen was enough to have him stopping in his tracks.

He repeated the words, hands shaking as he held the cameras up, sweeping them across the room to capture more data.

"Fuck, Jake, this is the real deal. You aren't going to fucking believe this man."

Ghost might not have understood all of the science behind the camera, but he took slow winding steps over the spot that he knew was weakest, his feet barely touching the floor, barely solid enough to put pressure, but solid enough to know that if he did push down, if he focused on that point of contact the concrete could crumble away like sand.

"Can you see that viewers? That area of super cold air? It looks like a man. I'm going to get a closer look and see if we can debunk this or not."

Liam walked towards Ghost, his eyes locked on the screen of the thermal cam, not looking at the video camera, not clicking back over to night vision.

The caretaker had warned them, they had signed contracts and more acknowledging the dangers of staying in the factory overnight, the dangers that had nothing to do with the demon lurking in the corners of rooms and everything to do with the fact that the building had long fallen to disrepair, and that it was on the edge of being condemned, demolished.

Ghost knew every weakness, every joist and support and beam that creaked and groaned at the lightest touch. He could almost taste the blood on his tongue as he thought about the mess of exposed rebar that was hidden just beneath the crumbling crust of concrete that Liam walked steadily towards.

He licked his lips.

"This is crazy, oh my god, guys wait till you—"

Ghost grinned, every sharp tooth on display even though Liam would have never seen them in the dark. But Ghost saw. Ghost saw Liam's eyes widen when his next step connected with the ground and kept going, the concrete crackling and crumbling around him, faster than he could react, faster than he could step back to safety.

The equipment fell from his hands as he twisted around, arms pinwheeling wildly as he searched for anything to grab onto, anything to help him. He cried out, the words unintelligible with fear. It didn't matter, the rest of the crew was too far away to hear him even if the words had been clear.

Ghost stalked around the hole, his own steps barely touching the ground, his shadowy figure feeling more and more solid as he soaked in the fear that filled the room, thick and syrupy sweet.

Liam probably thought himself very lucky, he had managed to grab onto something in the fall and now held on at the precipice of his demise. Each time he moved the ground around him crumbled more. His fingers scrambled against the rough concrete for something solid to latch onto, the the leverage to pull himself up. .

"Liam, Liam, Liam," Ghost tutted, giddy that this moment stretched out before him.

He might not have been able to see Ghost in the dark, but his eyes swung around searching for the source of Ghost's voice.

"Help, please, I'm slipping," he cried desperately.

Ghost had scooped up the handheld that was just out of reach of Liam's bloodied hands, nail ripping back in his desperation to claw at the ground for purchase. Ghost turned the feed towards the man who was quite literally holding on for his life, flipping through the settings until the screen lit up with the telltale glow of night vision. The colors muted, Liam's face pale in the absence of light, but the tears were there, streaks down his dusty cheeks, his nose was bleeding, perfectly styled hair out of place.

Ghost had been known to have a flair for the dramatic, what demon didn't want to flaunt their abilities, their strengths, their power.

When he spoke again it wasn't his voice.

"Uh oh, did someone not watch where they were walking?"

"Jake, fuck, help me, what are you doing?"

"bet you twenty he cries," Ghost parroted back in Liam's own voice.

"What the fuck man, come on, fuck," he cries out, fingers scrapping against the concrete.

Ghost would love to stay and savor this, watch each micro-expression on Liam's face as he loses more and more ground, slipping closer and closer to the abyss below him. But the rebar is calling his name and there are more idiots for Ghost to play with.

He stood, camera angled down so that Liam's tear stained face remained in view when he stepped forward, focusing all the energy he had been gathering into that one foot. He felt Liam's fingers beneath the skin of his heel, brittle bones that took no pressure at all to crush, the only thing that kept him hanging on through the pain was misplaced self preservation.

Ghost picked up his foot and stomped down. Bones ground against bone, the pain too much, Liam's grasp loosened, his muscles weakened from strain. He gave one last scramble, searching for some last little bit of luck, but it was fruitless, his hands disappeared over the edge, his scream cut off as the rebar punctured his lung.

The dripping of his blood echoed in the space beneath the floor, drip, drip, drip. Ghost could taste it on the air, coppery tang sitting heavy on his tongue as he licked his lips. He had one last thing to do before leaving Liam to bleed out.

Ghost clicked at the settings on the handheld and then turned it to face him, only what the screen revealed was not his skull mask, or shadowy skin, but instead a facsimile of Jake, the voice Jake's as he spoke into the camera.

"Had to see it for myself fans, and boy was it worth it. Too bad this will be Liam's last episode with us. Boo hoo, so sad."

It might not have been a perfect match to how Jake spoke, but Ghost had watched enough of these bumbling idiots recording their little shows to be believable.

Time to find his other targets.

You pulled against the restraints with a new kind of desperation when you heard the screams. You had spent enough hours listening to footage of Liam being edited to know what his fear sounded like, but this was different. It was raw, it was real, it was the kind of thing that Jake looked for when they were filming but could never capture.

Something was wrong.

Jake said he was coming for you but what if that thing came back first?

Your body felt warm just at the thought of it, all of the chill had left your skin, the only shivers were the aftershocks of pleasure. How could something so monstrous, so beastly be the first thing to turn you on in months? Even the nights you turned to the vibe and your own fingers it took time to coax your body into responding, often relying on lube and sheer determination to cum, leaving you with that hollow feeling afterwards.

So what if that thing came back first? What if it found you still tied up? Thighs sticky with cum, skirt still flipped up, pussy on full display.

Fuck, what is Jake found you like this? Someone else on the crew?

That fear of embarrassment, of shame has you moving with far more desperation than the fear of that thing lurking in the shadows.

When finally one of your wrists slipped through the bindings, the skin was rubbed raw and you were certain you were bleeding but it was too dark to see.

You needed some kind of plan, you couldn't wait here. You needed to find Jake and you needed to get the fuck out of this building.

You were feeling around in the dark for the discarded walkie, willing someone to say anything to point you in the right direction when you heard footsteps echoing down the hall, getting closer and closer.

You weren't sure you had ever been as happy as you were now, seeing Jake turned the corner, his flashlight blinding you momentarily, but the possibility of escape was higher now. You could get out of here and then never think about this place again.

"Aw, babe, you weren't supposed to be able to get out of the ropes. You stayed tied up long enough for us to get some good footage, right?"

You were reminded in that moment why you were even in this mess, why you had been finger fucked by a ghost? A monster? Some fucking shadow creature summoned by idiots and then sicced on you by your own fucking boyfriend.

"Fuck you, fuck you Jake and fuck this investigation."

"Woah, babe, what's got your knickers in a twist?" he asked, light from the flashlight scanning over the room, revealing the walkie that was just a few feet away from where you were looking.

"You tied me up and left me! You planned that, didn't you?"

The realization that he was more worried about you ruining the shot than anything else had your blood boiling.

"Sorta, but listen, I've got a really good feeling about this one. The footage we have already is insane, and the ritual is going to be the cherry on top. You at least looked scared when you were trying to get out? I tied the ropes tight enough?"

You should have been afraid, you should have told him about the monster, the demon he had unleashed on you but you found that it was easier to lean into the anger, the rage. Jake was the reason that had happened to you, Jake was the reason you were even here.

"There's a man in here," you settle on telling him something, a courtesy, a warning.

"Like a random man? They promised that there were no squatters."

He doesn't even bother to check on you, you watch the light of his flashlight bob as he walks towards some of the static cameras.

"Shit, lost the feed on this one," he walks to the second, finding that one turned off as well, cursing before darting over to the last one. "Babe, did you turn these off? We lost all of the recordings on them!"

He's practically shouting, his voice a bit frantic but the accusation in his words hurts. You hadn't turned them off, but you had asked for them to be turned off and it seemed like your demon had been obliging to that request, more than obliging.

"There's a random stranger wandering around and you're more worried about the footage? We should be telling the others to look out, to be on guard?"

"They're big boys they can handle themselves."

You wanted to argue that that might not be the case. How did you tell him that it wasn't just some random guy, that something supernatural had happened to you. Because what other explanation was there for what had happened to you, what words could describe the way that your body had been used, the pleasure you had felt for the first time.

"I don't think," you were cut off by another scream.

The beam of the flashlight swung around to the door. The scream went on, shouting accompanying it until it was cut off abruptly, the silence stretching on after.

"What the fuck was that?"

The beam of light shakes, casting dancing shadows around the room.

You know it's going to be the demon before you see him, before he materializes in the doorway. Your body is attuned to him in a way that you do not understand, his touch seared into your skin. Even just the memory of it has you clenching, thighs pressed tightly together in an attempt to ease the ache.

"Babe, who the fuck is here?"

He turns the light on you, blinding as it flashes in your eyes.

"I told you there was someone," you hissed back, eyes trained on the empty black square that is the door.

You know the moment he crosses the threshold, you might not be able to see him but you can sense him moving through the shadows, the image of him is burned into your eyes, looming over you with that bone mask, the horns curling away from his face, the face that was made up of shadows.

Jake scrambles away from the cameras and towards you, grabbing your arm and pulling you back further into the room.

You don't need to turn around to know you are getting closer to the yawning maw of the incinerator, the silent sentinel that watches your boyfriend cowering behind you like you can protect him. You don't want to protect him from the menacing figure that is stalking ever closer. This is the consequence of his own actions. This is what he summoned when he tied you down and recited those cursed words.

"Tsk tsk tsk, Jakey, hiding away like you aren't the one who called me here?"

Can he hear your thoughts?

Jake whimpered, his hand darting out to latch onto your arm, fingers digging into the soft flesh, pinching even through the thick sweatshirt.

"What are you?" he managed to stammer out the question, his voice small.

"You tie her down, say the words, scare her and we get views. Get her to cry and we have gold."

Its the demon speaking, you can see the shadowy mouth moving beneath the bone mask, just enough of the flashlight illuminating his shape, but the voice is Liam's, perfectly Liam's down to the inflection and the sass.

You turn on Jake, you can hear Liam saying that, it feels like you have heard Liam saying that. It's hard to not picture it, the two conspiring against you.

"Really, Jake? For the views?" you ask, incredulous.

"No, I wouldn't, I never, you're going to believe that?"

He gestures wildly at the demon, there's no question in your mind now that that is what he is. The demon tilts his head, watching almost curiously as Jake continues to stammer out excuses.

"We're done," the words are out before you can think it through. Its probably not the right time to end your relationship, breaking up right before a demon rips you to shreds seems pointless, but you refuse to be tethered to this excuse of a boyfriend any longer. If you are going to die you are going to die single.

"Babe," Jake starts but he is cut off by his own voice.

"Babe," the demon parrots back.

You can see the tension creeping over Jake, the anger outweighing the fear. What's he going to do, fight a demon?

The demon takes a lurching step forward, looking more solid than the last time you saw it. The fingers that had touched you so softly have been replaced by claws that drip with blood as the beast moves closer.

You take a step back, Jake's fingers still painfully tight around your arm as he's pulled back with you. You move until your back is pressed against the rusted carcass of the incinerator. It's hard to breathe, it's hard not to think that this demon is moments away from ripping you apart. You don't have to see why there is blood on his claws to know the fate of the rest of the team. Maybe some of them survived? Maybe not since last time there were no survivors.

"I can't believe you're breaking up with me and we're going to die."

"That's what you're fucking worried about," you hiss back, finally yanking your arm from his grasp.

"This was supposed to be our big break, we were going to get picked up by a network," he's crying now, near to hysterics as he pushes himself against the incinerator.

There is nowhere else to go.

The demon turns his attention on Jake, his form seeming to grow as he approached, shoulders broadening, claws lengthening, the horns twisting more and more. A slithering tongue drops from the black abyss that is his mouth and licks his lips before slithering back in. A tail whips behind him, a swish swish swish against the air that feels thick with tension, with fear.

"You're friends tasted lovely, Jakey, and you are going to taste even better. All of that fear, those insecurities."

Jake cursed under his breath, yanking your arm and pushing you toward the demon. You hadn't expected it, of course you hadn't because as much as your relationship had fallen apart you hadn't considered him a bad person, even now, with the proof of it right in front of you, it was hard to reconcile the Jake that you had first gotten tea with, the one that consoled you after the elevator, with the man who had tied you to the floor, the one who had conspired against you.

You fell, knees hitting the ground hard, tights ripping. You didn't need light to know that the skin had broke, that blood dripped down your legs as you scrambled away. From the ground the demon loomed even more.

"Lamb," the demon cooed.

You didn't have time to consider how despite being made of shadow you could still make out the demon even when the light was not trained on it, as if it was imbued with some kind of inner light, because Jake was darting across the open floor of the room, flashlight swinging wildly as he went.

"That little motherfucker," you cursed.

You felt that rage return. It was the culmination of so many lonely nights, so many passive aggressive comments, so many snide remarks from his friends. You let yourself be small for him, let yourself be the supporting actress in his success. Your love had been used as a weapon to keep you meek, to keep you in place.

Now he was running away like a coward and leaving you here to die.

But you weren't dying.

The demon stood there, turned away from you, head visibly tracking the way Jake ran for the door. He growled, deep, subsonic, you felt it in your fingertips where they pressed against the ground, you felt it in your back, pressed against the incinerator.

The sound went straight to your pussy. Idly you wondered if he would finish what he started, he had promised he would be back for you. Or would he simply end your life and be done with you, done with you the way Jake clearly was.

You wanted to tear Jake apart, limb for limb, because if he could leave you here for dead then you should be able to wish him harm. You felt a bit hysterical actually, this wasn't you, you didn't wish harm on people. But it felt so right.

Fuck the demon, tear Jake apart, and if you died in the process at least you had gotten your revenge. That's more than the other sacrifice had gotten.

"Lamb," the demon repeated, turning now to look at you.

You found the room not as dark, not as haunted as he knelt in front of you. He seemed not as large as before, as if he was making himself smaller for you, less frightening. Although there was no ignoring the blood on his claws, or the blood splattered on the bone mask when he was just a hair's breadth away from you.

"Are you scared, little lamb?"

Were you? Your heart was certainly pounding in your chest. Your breathing was shallow in that way that felt like you would never get a full breath again. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end and goosebumps had broken out across your skin.

But were you scared? Had the wires gotten crossed somewhere along the way because this felt very much like anticipation.

"No," you whispered, not trusting your voice to come out strong, to not stutter over the simple word, to not get stuck in your throat.

"Good," he purred, leaning forward and pushing his masked face against yours, the bone was surprisingly warm to the touch. "I hate to leave you again, but there is something I have to take care of."

You blinked as he leaned back, shocked when it was Jake's face string back at you. Same clothes, same haircut, same mouth, but there was something different in the eyes.

"Stay here," he commanded, still in the demon's voice but coming from Jake's mouth.

You nodded, instantly missing the warmth of him as he stood, the light leaving the room as he crossed the cavernous space, and when he turned to look you over one last time before turning the corner into the hall you wanted to cry because you knew that the moment he was gone, the moment he left it would be dark.

And it was. The dark felt worse this time, more alive, charged with some unholy awareness that blood had been spilled here.

You couldn't hear anything this time, no screams, no cutoff shouts, just silence. The kind of silence that was deafening, even worse now that you didn't have the blindfold. Perhaps that had been a mercy.

You didn't have to wait long though before you did hear something, a moan, the sound of fabric dragging against the concrete, a groan and then he was there, standing in the doorway, no longer hidden behind Jake's face.

"A present for you, lamb."

The demon dropped Jake onto the ground. He let out another groan, rolling onto his stomach and trying to crawl away. The demon didn't give him a chance, nudging him back into his back with a swift kick, then pinning him there with a solid foot on Jake's hip.

"Tell her," he instructed.

Jake tried to roll away.

"Tell her," he repeated.

"It was all my idea, the ritual, tying you up, pretending that it was random. There was a producer, he," Jake grunted as the demon ground his foot down. "Fuck, okay, there was a producer, he said he would make us an offer but that he said we didn't have enough shock value, there wasn't enough to make us stand out. Ghost hunters are a dime a dozen. But you, scaring you would help us. He said if we could prove we could set it up, get a good scare in we could just replace you when we signed. You wouldn't have to be on the show. Fuck!"

The demon ground down with more force, Jake face was slick with tears, eyes scrunched closed in pain.

"He said, he said we didn't need the fat bitch anyway, the fans wanted someone they could imagine fucking."

"And what did you say?"

You pulled yourself up to your feet. You were sure you looked a mess, blood dripping down your shines, dirt on your palms, but none of that mattered.

Jake didn't respond, he turned his face away from you.

"What did you say," you ground out.

"I-I told him it wouldn't be a problem," he cried out again, the demon's face split into a grin as he stepped harder. "I told him it wouldn't be a problem, we were going to break up soon."

"When? When did you tell him that," you took another shaky step forward as you asked, kicking something in the dark.

You looked down. It was the knife. The ceremonial knife he had brought to try and channel the energies of the people who had been murdered here. You found it hard to feel the same sympathy for them now, you knew what their fate was, it was the same fate Liam had met, same fate Jake was going to meet.

The demon's smile grew, face splitting in half as his glee grew.

You picked up the knife, the weight heavy in your hand. It wasn't some prop that Jake had found, he hadn't lied about it being real, being sharp, your thumb running over the edge of the blade, blood welling up in its wake.

"In April," he choked out.

April. April when you celebrated your anniversary alone. April when he forgot about the date he had invited you to, sat alone at the restaurant with just your tears and a very uncomfortable waiter. For six months he had been planning this, planning this moment, planning to use you and then toss you aside.

He was openly crying now, snot mixing with his tears. You didn't feel bad for him. He chose this for himself, he chose to string you along for his own personal gain, chose to use you.

It would have been harder to not let the rage consume you. You wanted revenge. Retribution.

Possessed with that all consuming need to act, you walked towards the demon and Jake, no longer scared of the looming figure, there was only one evil thing here, one person who had hurt you, and it was your chance to hurt him back.

"Fuck you, Jake."

He grunted the first time the knife plunged into his chest, but by the third time his breathing was wet, the only sound he could make a gurgle as blood bubbled from his mouth.

There was blood on your hands, on the sweatshirt that hung from your shoulders, on your face, your own blood on your knees that rubbed painfully into the ground.

A hand touched your face, guiding you to look up at the demon

"What are you?"

"Ghost," he answered.

"A ghost?"

"No, Ghost, just Ghost. And you, lamb, are my salvation."

You didn't know what he meant by that and you didn't care. You were distracted by how large his hand was, how warm, the claws gone now, his skin soft against yours. These were the fingers that had been inside you, the fingers that had given you more pleasure than you had ever known.

You wanted him to fuck you. You were already going to hell, why not add another sin to the list.

As if he knew where your thoughts had gone, the demon was pulling you up to your feet, the knife slipping from your fingers to the ground. He took your hands in his, bringing them up to his mouth where his tongue darted out, licking away the blood, slipping between each digit, tickling the soft skin between each finger.

"Are you going to kill me?" you asked.

"Why would I kill you when I can keep you for eternity. My pet," as he said the words he seemed to expand again to his full size, monstrous and fanged, with claws the bit into the skin of your wrists. He deflated on exhale, his body folding in on itself, appearing more solid.

"Ghost," you whispered his name and as if that was enough invitational he pounced, pushing you away from Jake's cooling body.

"I want to worship you," Ghost growled, his tongue plunging into your mouth, exploring every crevice before pushing down your throat. You struggled to breath around it, the feeling like nothing you had ever experienced and despite the way white spots appeared behind your closed eyes you were irrationally horny.

When he pulled away your knees were weak, but your fingers were strong as they explored his body, hard planes of muscle, no clothes to block your explorations.

"I want you to fuck me," you said, hand skating down, fingers wrapping his cock and tugging.

He growled again.

Your back was pushed into the wall. Ghost dropping down to his knees, horn mask disappearing beneath the skirt, hiking one leg over his shoulder. The stretch from his size had you arching your back but the discomfort was worth it the moment that tongue touched you.

Everything around you melted away as he lapped at your cunt, his tongue diving into you deeper than you had ever been touched, curling this way and that, hitting your g-spot over and over until you were shaking, until you were certain you would topple over unable to hold yourself up with the one foot you had planted on the ground.

You reached for the horns, for anything to ground yourself, for stability. Ghost groaned into your pussy as your fingers wrapped around the bone. He reached his own hand up, thumb circling your clit until you were screaming his name, your voice echoing around you.

Ghost didn't give you a moment to catch your breath before he was clamoring up your body, crowding you into the wall, hiking you up so that your legs were wrapped around his waist, his cock pinned between the two of you.

"I'm going to fuck this pretty pussy, and after you've come on my cock I'm going to fill you up, and then I will leave here for the first time in decades and I will take you with me and you will show me all of the devilish things this world has to offer."

You nodded, grinding against him, aching for his cock.

"Tell me what you want."

"I want you to fuck me. Please fuck me."

With his hands beneath your thighs he maneuvered you until the head of his unholy cock was at your entrance, the pressure of just the tip against your walls had your eyes rolling back. As he pushed in he licked at the tears streaming down your face. You were certain he was going to rip you in half, there was no way he would fit.

"Don't worry, lamb, you can take it," he cooed, still lapping at your skin, tongue covered in your tears, your cum and the blood from your fingers

You couldn't speak, you could barely breathe, you weren't even certain he had bottomed out before you felt him pushing up against your cervix in a way that felt like he was impaling you. You whined when he pulled out, the drag intense despite how wet you had been, before pushing back in, bullying your organs to fit him.

"Later I'll take my time with you."

You weren't sure how there would be a later, if you survived this you were certainly going to be wanted for murder, but as his cock pummeled your cervix you found you couldn't care. Not about Jake, not about Liam, not about what would happen to you. This was your salvation, this was what rapture felt like, the pleasure shooting down your spine, your toes curling in your shoes, your fingers digging into Ghost's shoulders as you arched your back, his cock hitting something in you that transcended the human experience.

Nothing mattered but the white hot heat of his cum filling you, blacking out as you came and coming to as Ghost lowered you to the ground, cum dripping down your legs, mixing with the blood. Or was it that you were bleeding?

You had no energy to care.

"Sleep, lamb," Ghost said as he lowered you to the ground, your limbs boneless, even if you wanted to you could not have stopped it. "Sleep and I will take care of everything."

As cliché as it sounds, you moved to Los Angeles to start fresh. And because your family had moved around a lot since you were a child, one more move wasn’t going to hurt you. Only this time, you were on your own. And oh, how exciting it was. Scary, but exciting.

You were privileged in the sense that your parents weren’t really against you moving away and gave you the support you needed, with your mom often sending you links with apartment listings and job offers. Missing you was the only problem they had, but they were also proud of their daughter for going after what she wants.

You found a pretty good apartment in a building that had very few residents. You tried to find out why, because the price was good, the location wasn’t the grid and the neighbourhood was more or less safe. There even was a police station which you had a pretty good view of, little dark blue figures walking to the cars parked in the big parking lot, sometimes lighting up the second they got into the car. So where was the catch?

You figured maybe people thought it amped up the chances of having cops all up in their business. Or maybe it was the sirens waking them up. You didn’t dwell on it for too long, instead choosing to see the light in the situation and joking that you could just knock on their doors if there was any kind of emergency.

A few weeks in, and you already made the new apartment feel like home. It felt like you’d lived there for years. You also became very appreciative of the lack of neighbours, because there were no parties, no stomping, no loud vacuuming. It was peaceful.

Like any other day, you woke up to the sunrise, feeling a little hotter than usual, but the golden beams gave you the energy you needed for getting out of the bed and into the shower. You brushed your teeth and did your hair, but your reflection in the mirror made your brows furrow. You didn’t have your necklace on. Weird.

Looking around your apartment, you tried to think of a reason or activity that would make you take it off, but nothing came to mind. You either forgot, or you lost it. You even tried to search the bed, in case it broke in your sleep. Nothing. Well, it will either appear somewhere or there’s nothing you can do about it, really.

You looked at work too, asked your colleagues if someone had found something, went to the lost and found, but no luck. When you had time to think about it, you did, trying to remember what could have happened to it before you’d completely give up on it.

You were ready to just forget about it, but on your way home, you were passing by the police department and something just pulled you in. You were trying to be reasonable. It’s just a necklace. They have more important things to worry about. But then the red, little devil on your shoulder told you to just go ask. You wouldn’t bother them for too long.

A couple of police cruisers drove by you and into their parking spots as your legs carried you to the entrance. And when your hand was on the door knob, you jumped at the voice interrupting your inner turmoil of whether or not this was a good idea.

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

You turned around and saw two police officers standing side by side. They were both charming, the blonde one chewed on a gum as he sent you a smile, while the one with auburn hair seemed more cautious, with his brows furrowed and hands resting on his hips, ready to solve a crime. You felt a magnetizing force when you locked eyes with him, your feet moving on their own in his direction after your last glance at the station's entrance.

“Um…”

“Did something happen, ma’am? Were you robbed or somethin'?” the older one tried again.

“Well, not exactly. I lost my necklace. I live nearby, so I figured maybe if I'd lost it somewhere in this area, someone could bring it here.”

The curly haired officer tipped his head back, forming an o with his lips in understanding.

“Ohh, see, Officer Sherman? Someone still believes in good,” he drawled out as he turned to his partner with eyebrows high on his forehead, and a lopsided smile playing on his lips. It made your cheeks flush.

Was he mocking you? Why did you feel a flip in your stomach when his eyes locked with yours again? His head tilted to the side as he studied you. His eyes were soft, his lower eye-line creating an upside-down crescent as he smiled. But there was something almost sinful in the black of his pupils, something hypnotising, and you couldn’t look away.

But when the heat started burning you from inside out, realizing you forgot to breathe, your eyes finally diverted. What the fuck was that? You were now reconsidering this whole plan.

Sammy and Ben just came back from patrolling, and he could smell you before he even saw you. They both did.

But Sammy had called his dibs on you as soon as you moved into that apartment. They had a bet going around the majority of the precinct, and Sammy had never lost. Not even this time after he declared that a beautiful piece of ass was going to move in. Which gave him the primary right to claim you. But even if he weren’t betting on you, he would find a way to get to you first.

He was smarter than most, his only true opponent was his partner who was using the too-forward strategy with everything and everyone that had legs. But not Sammy. Sammy liked to savor it. To lure them in. And then sink his teeth into them, letting go once he deemed fit.

And a beautiful piece of ass you were, but he kind of wanted to revoke that title. You looked too sweet for such crude words.

“Well, come on. I’ll check for you,” Ben spoke, taking the initiative that Sammy seemed to forget about. Your eyes snapped to Ben, and it ignited something in Sammy.

Clenching his teeth, his arm shot out in front of Ben’s body, stopping him from stepping forward with his fist pressing against Ben’s chest.

“Unfortunately,” Sammy jumped in, “Officer Sherman here has some paperwork to do. But I’d be happy to help. I’m officer Bryant, by the way. Sammy.”

Sammy recovered his smile, and you told him your name. You didn’t have to. He already knew it.

When he gestured for you to lead the way inside the building, Sammy threw Ben a look. He was already smirking at him, shrugging while doing so.

Jerk. He did it on purpose. It was the game they played, and Ben loved getting Sammy all worked up. Sammy would never admit it, but it made him better at what they did.

You felt a light brush of officer Bryant’s hand against your back. It was only fleeting, but it made your skin combust. You almost forgot why you were here as Sammy’s smell infiltrated your lungs, your blood carrying the molecules into your brain and setting off a reaction like pheromones.

You tried to ignore it.

The process was easier than you expected. Officer Bryant made you file a report, asking you to describe the necklace and to provide some kind of proof of ownership if you had one. You showed him some pictures of you on your phone, all from different angles,

Sammy felt his eyes darken as he saw you living your life through the photos. At dinner with your friends. At a birthday party with your parents. At the beach with your dog... In your swimsuit. The necklace aws adorning your bossom in each of those pictures the same way it did the night he took it from you.

You were so beautiful, too. Deep in your slumber, not having any idea what kind of neighbourhood you inserted yourself into. You looked too innocent. A bird who just left its nest. He almost wanted to protect you from himself. Such a sweet girl wandering around a big, dangerous world. He tsked as he stood next to your bed. He thought it wasn’t for you. You’d probably be safer with him down there.

“Well, would you look at that?” Sammy came in with a plastic bag, and as he opened it, he pulled out a necklace. Your necklace.

You huffed out a laugh, your eyes going wide in surprise. Honestly, you were more shocked than you were happy. Obviously, you were happy, but you really didn’t think you would be walking out of the station with it.

“I’ll just need a few more signatures, sweetheart, and then I’ll send you on your way.”

Sweetheart? There was that flip again. You felt it several times actually, throughout the whole procedure. Whenever he brushed his hands against the back of your chair when he was walking around you. Or when he moved your hand when he wanted to show you a particular segment of the form.

The climax came when he asked if you wanted him to help put the necklace on. You head moved up and down automatically.

Sammy stood himself behind you unnecessarily close, his belt brushing against the small of your back as he asked you to hold you hair up. You did so, revealing the skin of your neck and making him inhale quietly. His eyes fell close as he took in your scent, his irises switching to their glowing form for a split second. He couldn’t wait to have you, all wanting and panting and whimpering.

Oh my–, what the fuck are you doing to him? He was capable of being more patient than this. But there was something about you that was forcing him to use Ben’s ways.

Suddenly, your heart started beating faster, your chest rising from the images that fogged your mind. You couldn’t stop them, the police officer behind you was making you see things you’d never ever thought about, let alone practiced.

You saw yourself on the table in front of you, all the forms and papers you just signed discarded all over the floor as he fucked you, hard and deep.

Your breath hitched when you felt the coolness of the small pendant against your chest, almost feeling like you were caught in the act. And suddenly, the images flashed away, leaving your body flushed and your pussy wet.

Sammy’s fingers tickled your skin when he clasped the chain in place, brushing over it one last time before moving his hands away from you.

He couldn’t help it. He needed a taste. You made him starved and he needed to feed. And now he could smell how soaked you were, wishing he could just stuff his hand down into your underwear and give himself a true taste.

Sammy didn’t move, towering behind you and waiting. You turned around then, your ass almost brushing against his front and he cursed internally at the lack of contact.

The officer was looking at you with hooded eyes, a soft smile curling his lips, and you didn’t really know what to do next.

“Um..Thank you Officer Bryant.”

“Sammy, please. The pleasure is all mine.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile, avoiding eye contact because you truly felt like he could read your mind, and then you were on your way.

Sammy watched you leave, eyes raking over you figure, stopping at your ass as he bit his lip. He couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into the flesh, marking you, making you part of him. He headed his own way then, finally reaching the locker room and eager to get out of the straining uniform.

“You should have gone home, Benji,” prolonging the vowels of his words, Sammy said in a disapproving voice when he saw his partner sitting on the bench between the lockers. “I’m this close to kicking your ass for what you tried to pull earlier.”

“Oh, come on Sammy, I was just messing with you. You stood there like a stuffed dummy. Besides, if I'd gone home, I would've missed all the fun,” Ben grinned at him with a knowing look on his face, coming closer to Sammy’s locker as he reached for his shirt. Sammy looked him in the eye, not breaking the eye contact when that dangerous smile appeared on his face.

“Yeah? Thin ice, Officer Sherman. Thin ice. We'll see about fun when I burn your tongue off. See how many pussies you can get then.”

Ben just laughed at him, telling him his tongue wasn't his only strong suit. “It is fun, though, isn’t it? Getting riiight in there. I could smell both of you all the way from lost-and-found.”

Yeah, everybody probably could. This department is crawling with demons which sometimes becomes pain in Sammy's ass.

Sammy scoffed, shaking his head as he tried to stifle the smile. Ben squeezed Sammy’s shoulders from behind and shook his body, grinning from ear to ear.

“Way to go, brother. Way to go,” Ben said, comically proud of his partner. “I almost envy you. There’s just a handful of those like her. So deprived that they make even demons drunk. So fucking addictive.“

“Yeah, luckily, those last the longest, too,” Sammy murmured, in relief almost. “But it is embarrassing that it made me pull Ben down there,” he said, all sassy and provoking as he looked at the younger officer, the corner of his mouth lifting up.

But Ben just laughed, too happy and, more importantly, too Goddamn proud to get offended. “You’re just finally accepting advice from the best.”

Sammy’s chest rumbled with a laugh, his eyes gleaming when he shut his locker.

“Yeah, right. I’ll remind you of that when you’re trying to shake off three leaches all at the same time.”

“That’s part of the fun, Sammy.” Ben shrugged as Sammy slung his bag over his shoulder, shoving Ben with a quiet get outta here, before following him outside.

After your visit to the precinct, you couldn’t stop thinking about Officer Bryant, whether it was day or night. You were ashamed to admit that a man was making your work performance worse. Ashamed that you were now comparing every man you met on the street to him, even though you didn’t even have anything solid to compare them to. Ashamed that you were often making yourself cum to the image of him fucking you into that office desk. That you were dreaming about him.

Sammy felt it, too. Hell, he was the cause of all that, of course he knew everything about your life. But he felt it. Felt it across the street when you woke up, when you showered, when you made yourself cum to the thought of him. He paid you a few visits in your dreams, learning what made you tick and squirm. And yes, while he was feeding off of you, he was nothing if not a pleaser. Knowing you were satisfied satiated him just as much as the sex itself.

And now he was in your bedroom, physically looming over your sleeping form. He leaned down, dragging his nose over your cheek. He put himself into your head again, making sure you stayed asleep, although he’d love nothing more than to fuck you into consciousness.

For you, it will feel different. You’ll feel like you’re half asleep, like you’re dissociating from the real world. Similar to those images he had made you see, only this time, your body will physically participate.

Sammy pulled your covers aside, revealing your body covered only in an oversized sleeping shirt reaching your mid-thighs. He latched his mouth to your neck, sucking bruises into the skin and suppressing the need to unhinge his jaw and eject his fangs. Not yet.

You were already purring like a kitten, your thighs pressing together as you tried to relieve some of the growing ache between your legs. You saw him again. Sammy’s wild curls flicking in front of your eyes as he bit on your neck, eliciting a breathy gasp from you. Then you felt a hand sliding up your thigh, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Your legs spread involuntarily, providing him with the space he needed.

Sammy growled when his palm cupped your bare pussy, surprised you weren’t wearing any underwear. It was like he already trained you to wait for him, to make it easier for him to access you. You were already soaked too, your stickiness coating his fingers and connecting them your clit when he lifted them up an inch. The wet strings broke when he maneuvered his hand towards your thigh and spread the wetness there, rubbing and massaging it into the skin there as he watched your face.

Your brows created small creases above the bridge of your nose and your lips parted slightly, little moans escaping through them. The dry air was making your lips chapped and Sammy wanted to kiss you, to wet your lips with his spit and lick his way into your mouth. Instead, he collected more of your juices and brought them to your lips, making them all soft and shiny.

Then he bunched up your shirt, revealing your upper body to him and he swore he had never seen a more beautiful figure. He was becoming obsessed, his orbs switching colors to the yellow hues as he watched your tits harden. From how horny you were, not from the cold air.

He didn’t waste any time, latching his mouth to your nipple and pinching the other one. He rolled it between his fingers, tugging and pulling before grabbing handful of your boob and squeezing, while he sucked on its twin. This time, he couldn’t contain his teeth, his fangs slipping out and pressing against your skin just enough for you to feel the pressure, but not enough to break the barrier. He circled your nipple with his tongue, coating it with his spit before he slurped it back into his mouth. Then he crawled down the bed and spat it back onto your pussy, his hand never leaving your breast.

Sammy kissed yout thighs, licking at the already dried saltiness on your skin before he dove into your cunt. You nearly screamed when he put his tongue on you, flicking it across your puffy clit before sliding it down and back up, teasing you. He liked squirmers and you were a medallist when it came to that. The next time his tongue traveled downward, Sammy pinched your nipple between his middle finger and his ring finger, plunging the wet muscle into you before elongating it and reaching your G-spot with it. His nose pressed against your clit and he moved his head in swerving motions to create stimulation against your nub.

You walls squeezed his tongue at the motion, and your hips jerked up, the only thing blocking them was the arm that was reaching for your breast. Sammy never took his eyes off your face, not once. He didn’t even blink, his golden orbs boring into you as you tipped your head back or bit your arousal-covered lips. It was only spurring him on, withdrawing his long tongue just to slither it back into you. He twirled it around, pressing it against that spongey spot that was making your body convulse and your belly tighten

When he shortened his tongue again, he brought it flat over your pussy lips, licking a slow, torturous stripe from your hole to your clit, before he sucked on it and shook his head from side to side, bringing you just to the edge. You felt it grow inside of you, the tension building in your stomach, and it took only few sucks of his mouth and a finger being pressed to your opening before you were cumming. You spilled onto his fingers and Sammy didn’t even think twice when he brough them into his mouth, feeding himself your release. He moaned at the taste, so fresh and juicy, and he swore he could just eat you up.

Sammy flipped you over then, the motion rough as he hurried to unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants, along with his boxers. He leaned over you and ripped the pillow from under your head, making it fall to the mattress with a muffled thud. He wrapped an arm around your waist, lifting you up just enough to slip the pillow under your stomach.

You were perched up perfectly for him, with your ass and pussy on full display. He bunched your shirt up again since the hem fell back down, just to see as much of your curves as possible. His hand dragged themselves down over your back, his fingers brushing the sides of your breasts, the pads of his fingers pressing gently into your skin and muscles.

He followed your spine, down to the curve of your ass and he lingered there. Sammy couldn’t help himself, sliding just the tip of his thumb into your pussy and dragging it back up to your asshole. He massaged you there but held himself back from slipping his thumb inside. One day…

Sammy sniffed, taking his cock in his hand and sliding it against your cunt, wetting himself before he pressed the head against your opening. He groaned as he watched his fat cock disappear in your tight pussy. You were swallowing him so fucking good and he couldn't, for the love of God (🙄), believe that nobody got pussy-drunk enough to fight for you. To snatch you up.

But then again, many guys are too fucking lazy or too proud to admit they’re lacking in certain areas. It’s their loss then, because if they’d been capable enough to please a woman like you, some of them could have gotten a taste of this pretty pussy or even had it for life.

Now, it’s done for. You’re his, and nobody is going to touch you ever again. If they do, he will blow their head off. But you won’t let them, he knows it. You were too easy of a target, giving yourself to him almost voluntarily. You had already had high expectations of men before you even met Sammy. And he’s proving you that you should have them even higher.

It was easy for him to set a ruthless pace with how drenched you were. His cock was sliding into you in hard thrusts, his hips slapping against your ass and making it jiggle. He grabbed onto the flesh and pulled upwards, revealing the place where you were joined just a little more. Sammy watched your juices create a ring around the base of his cock and it made his head fall back with a long exhale, as he rolled his eyes in the back of his head. 

When he looked back down, he quickened the pace. Sammy ran his hand through his hair to slick back the curls that tickled his forehead, before grabbing onto your ass again. The bed scraped against the floor until it closed the inch-wide gap between the legs of the bed and the wall. The bedsprings were squeaking as he fucked you, angling his hips to allow himself to sink deeper into you.

As he slammed into you, the sole strength of his thrusts forced a series of gasps through your vocal cords, your body jolting with every slap of his hips against your cheeks. You pulsed around him, squeezing him so good that it even made Sammy lose his mind.

And, shit, what the hell. He’s a fucking demon. He’s supposed to be selfish. So he is, sucking on his thumb before bringing it to your back entrance, carefully slipping in just the tip. Enough to make you mewl. Enough to make your moans higher pitched. He wiggles it just once before your hips angle and you’re coming around his cock, pulsing and sucking him in.

Sammy groaned, picking up his pace again to fuck you through your orgasm. He prolonged your high for as long as he possibly could until you fell completely numb again, small puffs of air escaping your mouth.

Sammy leaned over you with his hard cock still filling up your pussy. He brushed the hair from your cheek, tugging it behind your ear and admiring your pretty face. Imagining how you’d look so fucking sexy with your lips wrapped around his cock. And you’d love it too, Sammy knows.

He fucked you three more times, twice like this, because you just feel perfect in this position, and once on your back, just to see your cute face. He left you all fucked out, with a puddle underneath you for you to wonder about once you woke up.

And when you waited for him in front of the department the next day to ask him out, all sweet and shy, he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.