psspp - Untitled
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When I Put My Hands On You ( Masky X Famele OC )

when i put my hands on you ( masky x famele OC )

Intrude: Sabrina Johnson started a dangerous game with a dangerous person as the game progresses the more the masked obsession increases.

And Sabrina fears what the outcome will be in the final round.

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the first chapter of this is not the complete story and more an idea of a chapter for more in the future, this here is practical a public scribble of the story so it will have little context more in the future I intend to release the full story

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There are two things that pull Sabrina out of her sleep.

The first is the weight of someone sitting on her bed.

The second is Masky familiar feeling in her presence.

Sabrina suddenly stands up, her amber eyes darting to the foot of the sofa bed. Masky is obscured by shadow, his expression hidden from her view, but when he speaks, his voice is as clear as the moonlight filtering through his bedroom windows. “You woke up faster than I thought,” he observes, kneeling on her bed.

She's woken up to find Masky in her room or in her bed so many times before that, at this point, she finds it more boring than anything else. Sabrina sighs and rubs her temples. "What forced you to break into my house this time?"

Moonlight hits half of Masky. In his face, the edges closer to hers. He appears to have stepped out of a tenebrist painting, his striking features depicted in silver and obsidian. “We need to talk,” Masky says in a tone that's as cold as his gauze.

“And we will. Tomorrow.” Sabrina quickly looks at the alarm clock and then back at it. When it's not three in the morning.” She sternly enunciates the last four words before bringing her hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn.

Masky grabs Sabrina by the wrist and pulls her forward in one fluid motion. “You seem to have forgotten how this works,” he sees, pressing his face against hers as he grips her wrist more tightly. "When I say we need to talk, we talk."

Masky grabs Sabrina by the wrist and pulls her forward in one fluid motion. “You seem to have forgotten how this works,” he sees, pressing his face against hers as he grips her wrist more tightly. "When I say we need to talk, we talk."

Sabrina looks at him with cool indifference. "I would hardly call it conversation," she intones, "and I don't remember that's how things work between us."

Masky eyes darken as a high-pitched bark of melancholy laugh escapes him. "I thought you might say that." His lips curve into a smile that reminds Sabrina of a predator with its teeth, a smile that is more of a threat than an expression of pleasure. "And I think it's time to remind you of what it means to be mine."

Sabrina releases her wrist from Masky grip and flits back. "What are you talking about?" she says more forcefully than she intended. "I already told you. I don't belong to-"

Masky growls, his eyes glittering wildly. He grabs Sabrina by the shoulders and throws her against the mattress. Her bedroom seems to spin around her, and by the time she flashes the bedroom back into focus, Masky is astride her, perched on top of her like an incubus. "You're mine," he growls, his tone as dark as the shadows that fill the corners of her room. He sinks his teeth into her neck, just above her wrist. "I don't know why this is so hard for you to accept." Masky bites down hard enough to draw blood and tightens his grip on Sabrina's bare shoulders to keep her in place as she pulls away from him. Her mouth feels like a red-hot iron against her skin as he covers her neck and shoulders with bites, hard and meant to hurt. Her wounds are terrible, but the searing pain in her neck and shoulders is nothing compared to the heat that springs to life inside her before being erased by a wave of shame.

Masky pulls away and straightens, licking Sabrina's blood from her lips. "Let me make this clear," he says humbly as he stutters at her and assesses the damage he's done. “Your heart” – he puts his hand over it beating his heart – “your life, and your very soul belong to me. I understand?"

"I understand you're jealous," Sabrina says firmly, "but I- Her hands close around her throat like the jaws of a vise and the air moves around them. Her tenebrous presence deepens into something darker than night and becomes heavier and more noxious than the thickest smoke. Sabrina tries to move, to fight him like she did before, but it's as if her presence is physically holding her back. She is paralyzed.

“Don't confuse this with something it's not,” Masky hisses as he squeezes his neck, cutting off his air. "It's about reminding you of your place." Sabrina's vision starts to blur and her head starts to spin from lack of oxygen, but she keeps her eyes fixed on Masky even as the shadows around him seem to unnaturally increase and black spots begin to dot her. eyesight. "I could kill you right here and now." He lets the words hang in the air as he stares into Sabrina's red face. "But I'm not going."

Masky takes his hands from her throat and his lips curve in a hint of a self-satisfied smile as Sabrina uses the opportunity to take a deep breath in a series of breathless gasps. Bastard, she thought, scowling at him.

Masky drags his knuckles over Sabrina to her cheek. "You know, you're the only one who doesn't seem to understand that you belong to me. Your brother your so-called friends even my host…” He scrunches up his nose in disgust, unable to hide his contempt. "They all know you're mine." Masky slips his hand into the back pocket of his jeans. "So tell me Sabrina," he says, bringing his mouth to her ear, "what should I do to make you understand that I'm your masky pulls a pocketknife from his pocket with a dramatic flourish and holds it up in the moonlight. Sabrina instantly recognizes the It's the knife she kept under her pillow until about two months ago, when she woke up one morning to find it was gone. he studies her icy expression. “Perhaps I should carve my name into your flesh as a permanent reminder,” he muses, dragging the blade across her cheek in a wicked caress. Sabrina debates whether it's worth answering while ignoring the sting of the blade when it pierces your skin. A drop of blood spurts from the small, shallow cut, and Masky offers her a smile as sharp and cruel as the knife in his hand. "On the other hand, that doesn't solve the problem, does it?"

The only problem here is your lack of control,” Sabtjns replies without missing a beat, disdain coloring his words.

"Actually, I've been exercising a lot of moderation." Masky leans over and drags his tongue over the cut on Sabrina's cheek, chuckling darkly when her face twists into a grimace of disgust. "But I can change that." He cleans her knife using her nightgown before closing the knife and putting it back in his pocket. "And I could start by eliminating these pests you surround yourself with."

Sabrina's eyes widen in alarm, but she quickly regains her usual cold blood. “You are bluffing. It would just reduce the amount of influence you have over me. ”

“I'm surprised to hear you talk so coldly about your pathetic friends,” says Masky, brushing his thumb against her lips. "That's probably for the best, though. After all, they don't seem to value you as much as you value them."

Sabrina rolls her eyes. She is so familiar with this particular line of manipulation that she can list each step. First, Masky will highlight the times when her friends didn't trust her. Then he will point out how much effort she put into helping her brother and his friends. Add a teaspoon of no one appreciates you like I do, a dash of I would never abandon you despite all evidence to the contrary, a dash of I'm just the one who understands you, a dash of we're not so different The 3000-Year-Old Recipe of Masky for emotional manipulation.

"Where do you want to get?" Sabrina asks, her emotionless masky voice running her fingers down her throat, her nails scratching at the wounds in her neck. "My point is they won't come after you." In contrast to the implied threat that sets off the alarm in Sabrina's head and turns the blood in her veins to ice, Masky's tone is casual, almost colloquial.

Come looking for me? What-"

"It's the simplest solution." Masky continues fluidly, as if Sabrina has never interfered. "If I can't get rid of them, I'll just get you out of them."

Sabrina can feel the color drain from her face and her brows furrow. Her mouth is dry. Her lungs seem to be full of ice. She wanted to protest, wanted to tell him how stupid this was, but the words were frozen in her throat.

“That's a beautiful expression,” Masky practically purrs, his voice dark and resonant as he holds Sabrina to his face with his hands. He reads to her and drinks in every detail of her countenance, from her furrowed brow and her fierce, but slightly eager, her gauze to her soft lips, she pursed in disgust. "I wonder, is this your way of trying to appease me?" He didn't give her a chance to respond before slamming his lips against hers with blunt force. “Because everything you're doing is tempting me even more,” Masky says, biting his bottom lip. "I could arrange a place in the mansion for you and make you my prisoner here and now."

Despite the chill that coats Sabrina's insides, it feels like a heat haze has settled over her head, thickening as Masky pinches her chin. Still, she felt compelled to challenge him, not to back down. “I'm not letting this happen,” Sabrina replies, her voice firmer than she feels.

Masky laughs and turns away from her. “What can you do to stop me? You can't even move. And even if you could, it wouldn't do any good. You look exhausted.” He tucks a strand of hair behind Kohaku's ear with mocking gentleness. “I thought a lot about locking you up with me,” he says, apropos of nothing. “About the terrible things I would do to you and how you would have no choice but to lie down and accept. You would be entirely under my control, where you belong. Masky's breath catches in his throat, his eyes glittering with animalistic excitement and hunger that sends a shiver down Sabrina's spine. "Just think about it." Sabrina never wanted to think of anything less, but her imagination betrays her. Her mind passes through a series of images and sensations, each like a snapshot of some eerie nightmare. His sharp scalpel smile and fingers gliding under her skin. Darkness bubbling in her lungs like tar. An image of herself, her lips painted in her own blood, lying sprawled out like a porcelain doll. Masky cradled her in his arms, the two of them alone in an ebony void.

"I would be your whole world." Masky closes his eyes and smiles to himself, and for a moment he looks completely at peace. “I would be your god. ”

“You're delusional,” Sabrina retorts, her voice filled with disgust. Masky opens his eyes and laughs. "And you are helpless." He pats Sabrina on her cheek condescendingly while looking at her with a thoughtful expression. Silence falls between them, and it seems like a few minutes have passed when Masky speaks. “You know, condemning you to the shadows now would hardly be satisfying,” he says when he finally gets off her. "Breaking you piece by piece looks much more attractive." Masky swings his legs on the edge of the bed. “When I win in our little game I will extinguish all hope you have, I will drown you in darkness. I hope so."

he gets up and walks towards the door. “I would hate to have to speed up my plans for you,” he says, looking back at Sabrina over his shoulder, “but who knows what I might do if you keep testing me like this. You have no idea how hard it is for me to contain myself when it comes to you. "

Masky flashes one last mocking smile before walking out of her. "Good dreams."

And with those parting words, he closes the door behind him.

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