Author’s note - I was planning to post these with the others yesterday, but I got so worn out from writing. So here they are now! I'm really enjoying creating these little stories and I'm trying to introduce more characters—so meet my version of Jane! My requests are still open, so feel free to send them in. Thank you all so much for your support, Ilysm! <33
Glass shattered against the wall as Jane hurled another empty bottle in frustration. The sound echoed through her room like a gunshot, matching the thunder in her veins.
"Where the fuck is it?" she snarled, upending an entire drawer onto the floor. Makeup scattered like shrapnel, but her prized black lipstick was nowhere to be found. "I swear to god, when I find out who—" She stopped, nostrils flaring as she caught a familiar scent. Her scent.
The door clicked open.
"Don't you fucking dare," Jane warned, not bothering to turn around. She knew that presence, could feel those eyes on her back like a physical touch.
(y/n) stepped in anyway, boots crunching over broken glass. "Redecorating?"
"Get out before I make you regret having legs," Jane growled, finally turning to face her roommate.
The sight made her blood boil. There, on (y/n)'s perfect lips, was the unmistakable shade of her black lipstick.
"Make me," (y/n) purred, leaning against the doorframe with deliberate insolence.
Jane crossed the room in three swift strides, pinning (y/n) against the wall with an arm across her chest.
"You've got exactly five seconds to explain why you're wearing my lipstick before I remind you who runs this show."
"Maybe I just wanted to look pretty for you," (y/n) teased, not even trying to hide her smirk.
"Four seconds." Jane's rings caught the light as she flexed her fingers.
"You know black's my color too—"(y/n)'s breath hitched as Jane pressed closer, the leather of her jacket creaking.
"Three." The floorboards groaned beneath them as Jane shifted her weight.
"—and you never share—" (y/n)'s back arched slightly off the wall, her shirt riding up to reveal a strip of skin.
"Two." Jane's free hand traced down (y/n)'s side, making her shiver.
"What happens at zero?" (y/n)'s whisper was almost lost beneath the patter of rain against their window.
"One." Jane's hand found her pocket, retrieving the stolen lipstick. The metal tube was still warm from (y/n)'s body heat. "You little thief," she breathed, pressing closer. "Did you really think you could take what's mine without consequences?"
(y/n) tilted her chin up defiantly, the motion causing her silver necklace to catch the light."Maybe I wanted the consequences."
"Oh, sweetheart," Jane laughed darkly, the sound echoing off the room's exposed brick wall. Her rings scraped against the wallpaper as she leaned in closer. "You have no idea what you're asking for." She grabbed (y/n)'s jaw with one hand, thumb pressing against those black-stained lips. The lipstick had been applied messily, like (y/n) had done it in a hurry. "Look at the mess you've made. Black really isn't your shade."
"Seems to work just fine on you," (y/n) managed, breath hitching as Jane's grip tightened. (Y/n) hands found purchase on Jane's leather jacket, fingers curling into the worn material.
Jane released her suddenly, stepping back. The floorboards creaked beneath her heels as she moved, the sound sharp in the tension-filled air "Wipe it off."
"What?" (y/n) remained against the wall, looking deliciously disheveled.
"The lipstick. Take it off. Now." Jane's voice carried an edge that made (y/n) shiver.
"Make me."
The challenge hung in the air for exactly one heartbeat before Jane surged forward, crushing their bodies together. The impact sent a framed poster rattling against the wall as she grabbed a handful of (y/n)'s hair, yanking her head back. "You really want to play this game?"
"Already winning," (y/n) gasped, eyes gleaming with defiance.
Jane spun them around, marching (y/n) backward until her legs hit the vanity. Makeup clattered to the floor as Jane lifted her onto the surface. "Let's see how smart that mouth is when I'm done with it."
She uncapped the lipstick with her teeth, never breaking eye contact. "Hold. Still."
"Or what?"
"Or I'll make you." Jane traced the black stick across (y/n)'s lips with excruciating slowness. "See? Much better when you behave."
(y/n)'s hand shot up, deliberately smearing the fresh application across Jane's mask. "Oops."
"You're really pushing it," Jane growled, grabbing both of (y/n)'s wrists and pinning them above her head.
"Maybe that's the point," (y/n) breathed, arching up against her.
Jane's free hand yanked her own mask up just enough to expose her lips. "Last chance to back down."
"I never back down."
"Your funeral." Jane crashed their lips together, claiming (y/n)'s mouth with bruising force. She bit down on her lower lip, drawing a whimper that sent electricity down her spine.
(y/n) wrapped her legs around Jane's waist, pulling her closer. "Is this supposed to be punishment?"
Jane broke the kiss, leaving them both gasping. "Oh, baby," she purred, trailing black-stained lips down (y/n)'s neck, "we haven't even started the punishment yet."
"Promise?" (y/n) challenged, voice breaking as Jane's teeth found her pulse point.
"Shut up," Jane commanded, releasing (y/n)'s wrists to grab her hips instead. "You've done enough talking for one day."
"Make me."
Jane's laugh was dark velvet against (y/n)'s skin. "That's exactly what I intend to do."
The night had left Jack ravenous, but not just for food. Three days of hunting had ended in a messy chase—his prey proving more trouble than they were worth. His three tongues, each with a mind of their own, writhed restlessly behind his teeth as he finally made his way home, his combat boots heavy on the wooden floors. The scent of (y/n) hit him before he even reached their bedroom—sweet, intoxicating, alive.
His heightened senses picked up every detail of her: the soft whisper of her breath, the subtle shift of fabric as she moved in her sleep, the thundering drumbeat of her heart that called to him. The blue mask that concealed his face felt suffocating now, trapping his desire behind its cool surface. He removed it slowly, fingers trailing over the familiar contours before setting it on the nightstand.
"You smell like blood," (y/n) murmured, her voice thick with sleep but tinged with something darker. The sound sent shivers down his spine.
"Messy eat," he growled, his dirty brown hair falling forward as he stripped off his grey sweater. The fabric caught briefly on his scarred skin before dropping to the floor beside his boots. His grey jeans followed, leaving him in just his boxers as he crawled into bed.
(y/n)'s breath hitched as his cool skin met hers. "Missed you," she whispered, pressing back against him. The contact made all three of his tongues press against his teeth, desperate to taste her.
"Dangerous," he warned, but his arms were already wrapping around her waist, pulling her flush against him. One hand splayed across her stomach, the other gripping her hip with barely contained need. "Shouldn't tempt me when I'm hungry." He kissed her jaw
(Y/n) laughed softly, the sound making his grip tighten. "Maybe I like dangerous."
Morning came too soon, but (y/n) had plans of her own. She studied Jack's sleeping form—the way his lips parted slightly, revealing hints of his extraordinary anatomy, the scars that mapped stories across his skin. With deliberate care, she decorated his mask with lipstick kisses, each one a promise of what was to come.
When Jack woke, the house was alive with knowing snickers. Jeff's mocking tone, Jane's attempted warning, but it was (y/n)'s heartbeat that caught his attention—faster than usual, excited.
"Made you coffee," she said innocently, but her pulse betrayed her mischief.
The kitchen air was thick with tension as Sally's giggling revealed the prank. “Why is there kisses on his mask!” Sally howled with laughter.
Jack's fingers found the lipstick marks, and something stirred inside him. He moved through the kitchen with predatory grace, his blindness forgotten as he tracked (y/n) by sound and scent.
The whipped cream was cold in his hand as he sprayed it across her neck, her shriek of surprise mixing with breathless laughter. But Jack wasn't laughing as he cornered her against the counter, his body caging her in.
"Playing games, little one?" His voice was rough, dangerous. He lifted his mask just enough to expose his mouth, all three tongues emerging to taste the air between them. The first tongue traced her jaw, the second followed the line of whipped cream down her neck, and the third flicked teasingly against her pulse point.
(y/n)'s hands fisted in his grey sweater, her body trembling. "Jack," she gasped, the sound nearly his undoing.
"You marked my mask," he growled against her skin, each tongue leaving its own wet trail. "Marked what's mine." His hands gripped the counter on either side of her, the wood creaking under his strength. "Should show you what real marking feels like."
Sally's rapid retreat went unnoticed as Jack's tongues worked in tandem, tasting, teasing, claiming. (y/n)'s heart raced beneath his ministrations, her body arching into his touch.
"Next time," he promised darkly, one tongue flicking out to catch a drop of whipped cream at her collarbone, "I won't just be late." Another tongue traced the shell of her ear as he whispered, "I'll take my time devouring every..." The third tongue dragged slowly up her throat. "Single..." His teeth grazed her pulse point. "Inch."
The kitchen filled with the sound of (y/n)'s ragged breathing and Jack's low growl, the air electric with promise. His mask might have been covered in her playful kisses, but he intended to leave marks of his own—marks that would remind her exactly what kind of creature she'd chosen to love.
