#safe from stalkers. Locking your window

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤSTALKERㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Dick Grayson x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : How It's Like Having Him As Your Stalker?

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

You never noticed him at first.

Which was strange, really. Because Dick was a presence—magnetic, charming, always the kind of guy who could steal attention in any room, even when he wasn’t trying.

But with you? He liked to stay hidden. Lurking in the shadows. Watching.

At first, it was innocent (or so he told himself). He noticed you at a coffee shop one day, lost in a book, chewing on the end of your pen as you scribbled something in a notebook. He found himself drawn to the little things—the way you furrowed your brows when concentrating, the way you smiled at something on your phone, the soft way you carried yourself. It was just curiosity at first. That’s all.

Then he saw you again. And again. And suddenly, he was seeing you everywhere.

It became a habit, a compulsion. He memorized your routine like it was a mission. When you got coffee. What time you left work. What stores you liked to browse in. He told himself he was just making sure you were safe—because Gotham was dangerous, right? A girl like you, alone? Vulnerable? It only made sense that he’d keep an eye on you.

Then he got closer.

It started small. Brushing past you on the subway, close enough to inhale the scent of your shampoo. Sitting near you in a cafe, pretending to be busy on his phone while he listened to the way you spoke. Learning your favorite drink, so he could leave it waiting for you at the counter when you arrived—anonymously, of course. You’d glance around, confused, but never knew it was him.

You weren’t even aware that he was already in your apartment.

Not when you were there, of course—he’d never scare you like that. But while you were out? He’d slip inside with an ease that almost disappointed him (you really needed better locks). He never took anything—he just… looked. Examined the little pieces of your life. The books stacked beside your bed. The jewelry you left on the dresser. The clothes draped over the chair, still carrying the ghost of your body’s warmth.

He touched them sometimes. Ran his fingers over the fabric. Just to feel close to you.

The obsession grew.

He started taking things—small things, things you wouldn’t notice were gone. A hair tie. A receipt you left on the counter. A half-used tube of lip balm. They were trophies, proof that he was part of your world even if you didn’t know it yet.

And the pictures. Oh, the pictures.

They covered his walls. You smiling. You asleep on the bus, head tucked against the window. You looking at a menu, deep in thought. Hundreds of them, from every angle, every moment of your life he could capture without you noticing.

And the best part?

You liked him.

You had no idea, of course, but Dick could see it. The way you glanced at him when he finally started talking to you, when he finally made himself known in your life. It was easy—he was charming, he was sweet, he was everything you’d want in a guy.

So he inserted himself into your life, seamlessly.

“Oh, hey, fancy seeing you here!” A bright smile. A friendly laugh. “What a coincidence, huh?”

It wasn’t a coincidence.

It was orchestrated, down to the second. Every “random” encounter, every meeting—it was all planned, deliberate. But you didn’t question it. Why would you? He was Dick Grayson. A gentleman. A hero.

You never realized the full weight of his devotion.

Never realized how deep it ran.

Never realized how much worse it could get.

Because the thought of losing you? The thought of someone else having you?

It made him sick.

It made him furious.

It made him violent.

You noticed the change after a while. The possessiveness in his touch, the way his grip lingered on your wrist, the way his blue eyes darkened when you so much as smiled at another man.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt,” he’d say, voice honey-sweet. “You’re too trusting, sweetheart. Not everyone has good intentions.”

Not like him.

So when your ex went missing, you didn’t think much of it.

When that guy at work—the one who flirted with you—got mugged and beaten within an inch of his life, you chalked it up to Gotham’s crime rate.

And when you started feeling like you were being watched, even in the safety of your own home���well.

Dick was always there to reassure you.

“It’s okay, babe,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

And he meant it.

Even if that meant keeping you all to himself.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[dollyfiles]

you are stalker!rafe’s new obsession

cw: dark!rafe, stalking, being rafe’s prey, obsession, explicit themes, violence, mentions of murder, knifes, blood, killing, inspired by the song “tag, you’re it.” by melanie martinez

you always felt eyes on you.

it started as an unease, a fleeting paranoia that maybe someone was watching. the first time you noticed it was in the parking lot of your favorite café.

you’d been fumbling with your keys when you felt it, that slow, suffocating pressure of being watched. but when you turned around, the only thing behind you was the golden glow of the streetlamp and the empty asphalt.

that night, you convinced yourself that you were imagining things. but then the notes started. small, carefully folded pieces of paper left under your windshield wiper. the handwriting was neat but strangely intimate, like someone whispering a secret in your ear.

“red looks good on you.”

“you shouldn’t walk alone at night.”

“i see you, sweetheart.”

your stomach twisted every time you found one. your friends laughed it off. “it’s probably some dumb guy with a crush,” they said. “creepy, but harmless.” but you knew better. and then there he was..

rafe cameron. he liked watching you. you barely knew him, but that didn’t stop him from showing up everywhere you went.

you looked soft. delicate. the kind of girl who smiled at strangers and said thank you too much. the kind of girl who had no idea how dangerous the world could be. he wondered how you’d look when you were afraid. the thought sent a slow, satisfied shiver down his spine.

it started small. a glance here, a lingering stare there. following you, just to see if you’d notice. but you never did. not at first. so, he pushed further.

one night, you woke up gasping. there was a soft and deliberate sound right outside your window. your heart pounded as you reached for your phone, hands shaking. peeling back the curtain just a bit, you saw him.

rafe.

standing beneath the streetlamp, staring at your window. a slow grin curled across his face as he saw you hiding there, watching. you shut the curtain so fast it nearly ripped off the rod.

good. he thought. the fear suited you.

the next morning, you found a fresh note tucked into your mailbox.

“run, little rabbit.”

your hands shook as you crumpled it, tightness building in your throat. you immediately told your friends. they said you were overreacting. you then told the police. they told you they couldn’t do much without proof.

that was the worst part. no one believed you. no one except rafe. and he loved that. but the real fun started when he got inside..

the first time, he didn’t take anything. didn’t break anything. just stood in your room, breathing in the scent of you—sweet, something floral, something innocent.

a single red rose was placed on your pillow one evening when you came home late. your perfume bottle—half-empty even though you hadn’t used it in days.

rafe wanted you to know he’d been there. that he could reach you whenever he wanted. that you were his.

on the night he finally decided to take you, it rained.

thunder rumbled in the distance as he stood outside your apartment, watching the glow of your bedroom window. you were in there. safe, warm, his. you just didn’t know it yet.

a click of the lock. the back door swung open with ease. you’d been good about locking it the last few nights. he wondered if you’d slipped up—or if you were getting too comfortable.

either way, it didn’t matter. rafe stepped inside, his pulse steady, movements slow. he didn’t rush. didn’t make a sound.

you were in the living room, curled up on the couch, phone in your hand. you were texting someone—he could see the soft glow of the screen lighting up your face.

you had no idea he was right there. he let the seconds stretch, savoring the moment. then, finally—he knocked. soft at first. then harder. persistent. your stomach dropped.

for a long, delicious moment, silence stretched between you. he could picture your heartbeat picking up, that sweet little pulse hammering in your throat.

you didn’t react at first. smart girl. but it was too late.

a low chuckle echoed from the dark hallway. you froze, pulling your knees to your chest. "you hide like a scared little rabbit," rafe’s voice drawled from the shadows.

he was inside.

you immediately bolted. ripping the kitchen drawer open, you snatched the first knife your fingers touched, your pulse a wild drum in your ears.

then his dark figure stepped forward. he was drenched from the storm, his shirt clinging to his chest, his blue eyes locked onto you like you were prey. he moved slowly, deliberately, as if savoring the moment.

"y/n," he murmured, tilting his head. "you weren't supposed to run yet.” your grip on the knife tightened, “get out." you screamed. his smirk deepened, amused. "now, why would I do that?"

the air in the room thickened. then—your phone rang. the shrill sound shattered the tension, and in that split second, you lunged.

the knife sliced through the air, but rafe was faster. he caught your wrist mid-swing, twisting it until the blade clattered to the floor. you gasped in pain. you made it too easy.

"you fight, too?" his breath was warm against your ear as he yanked you close, his grip rough, "i like that." you thrashed, kicking at him, but he barely flinched. the phone kept ringing. you screamed.

"you’re making this way more fun than i expected," he murmured, like this was a game. and you were his favorite new toy. your stomach lurched.

you couldn't let him win.

your eyes darted around the kitchen, searching and then your eyes caught it. the kettle. still full from when you’d boiled water earlier.

with one desperate motion, you threw yourself forward, stretching your free arm as far as it would go—fingers closing around the kettle's handle. and then you swung.

rafe screamed. the sting of boiling water shot through him. and his grip loosened just enough. you wrenched free, diving for the knife. your fingers closed around the handle, and before you could think twice—before you could hesitate—a flash of silver.

cold steel buried into his stomach. his breath hitched. the world around him tilted. his hands shot to the knife, warmth spreading beneath his fingertips, the sting sharp, alive.

and then he looked at you. you were panting. wide-eyed. but not terrified. no, this was something else entirely.

anger. power. something dark, something almost hungry. rafe’s lips twitched, his vision going hazy, but still—he grinned. you were finally playing the game.

you took a step closer, your breath shaky but your grip on the knife solid. "tag," you whispered. and then—you twisted it. "you’re it," you spat lastly.

a guttural sound escaped him, half groan, half laughter. fuck. he felt it all. the blade cutting deeper, the fire spreading through his veins, the sharp edge of death curling around him like a lover.

god, you were perfect.

his vision began to darken at the edges, but he was still grinning, teeth red with blood. his hand weakly reached for you, brushing your wrist, smearing crimson against your skin.

"shit," he rasped, his voice slurred, "you finally get it, don’t ya’?”

you yanked the knife free, and he choked, body collapsing to the floor. everything felt distant, fading—but not before he caught one last glimpse of you standing over him, fierce, wild, untouchable.

rafe had never wanted you more.

and as the world went black, the last thought that curled through his sick mind was simple.

you were finally his kind of dangerous.

a/n: something a lil different but im actually very happy with this !!

tags: @dearapril @deansbeer @rafesheaven @rafeysbangs @rafesbowbunny @rafespreciosa @rafesangelita @rafey-baby @plaidcowboy @filthyrafe @figthoughts @drewsephrry @et6rnalsun @dulcescorderitas @littlelamy @inspiredangel @fawnhart @cherrygirlfriend @rafesweetie @hauntedfawnn @starzify

[hannahsturniolo]

ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ғᴀɴ

Warnings: physical fighting, stalker (not sure about anything else?)

Summary: you go to the same coffee shop every Friday morning with the triplets, you made the mistake a few weeks ago of posting an Instagram story of you in the coffee shop, and some guy who was obsessed with you, found out you go there every Friday.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You woke up next to Matt so excited because today is Friday, which means going to your favourite coffee shop with the boys. You made it a tradition.

You got ready, put on one of Matt’s oversized hoodies, black leggings, and your white converse. You put on a little bit of mascara and threw your hair into a bun.

You always post about what you’re doing on social media because you are an influencer. So once you got there, you took a picture of the coffee you ordered which had “Greenhouse coffee shop” written on the side of it, and posted it to your story.

About an hour went past of laughing and talking about life and we went to go exit the coffee shop. Nick and Chris were walking infront of you and Matt walking out hand in hand. You were walking just outside of the coffee shop passing by the windows.

You heard a man say out loud “that’s Y/N.”

You froze. Usually it’s young girls, or some of Matt’s fans that stop you on the street. You’ve never had a man call out to you.

You turn around, and so do the triplets.

“Hi” you said shyly.

“I’m a big fan of yours, and I’d really like a picture.”

You were still thrown off that it was a man, but you weren’t going to be rude, so you said sure. You stood beside him, and Matt stood close by keeping an eye out.

You felt the man go to reach down to your ass.

Matt noticed right away, walked over and put his arm out infront of you, protecting you. Nudging you back just a little bit.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Matt asked the man with a rude tone.

You were now standing behind Matt. Nick and Chris walking up to you to make sure you were okay.

“Are you okay Y/N?” Chris asked.

“Yeah I’m okay, he just tried to grab at my ass.” You said very upset.

“What the fuck.” Chris replied.

The man backed up a little bit, “I’m sorry man, I’m just in love with her.”

“With my girl?? You don’t even know her, you’re a stranger to her!” Matt yelled back.

Chris grabbed your shoulder to pull you further from Matt and the man.

The man still continued. He shoved Matt out of the way trying to come back onto you.

Matt shoved him back.

“You better go now before I get involved” Chris said angry.

“Chris bring her to the car, and lock the doors. I’ll deal with him.” Matt told Chris.

Chris brought you to the car, and Nick stayed with Matt to make sure nothing bad was happening.

“Can you just leave my girl alone? She doesn’t want you” Matt yelled at the guy.

The guy got up in Matt’s face, so Matt punched him.

The guy fell to the ground, got up and started to walk away yelling “one day she’ll be mine!”.

“Just let him walk away. Let’s not start a scene” Nick told Matt. Matt and Nick walked back to the car.

Matt seen you crying in the passenger seat. Matt’s heart dropped.

Matt opened the drivers seat door and sat down, while Nick and Chris were in the back.

Matt turned to you, “I’m sorry baby you had to see that. I was just trying to protect you, no one should grab you like that.”

Matt grabbed your hand.

“Are you okay?” Matt asked you.

“I just can’t believe that happened. What if I was by myself?” You cried into your hands.

“Baby if something like that ever happens and none of us are around, you find the nearest person to help you.” Matt said.

Matt reached over to the passenger seat and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“As long as you’re with any of us Y/N, you’re safe. We’d never let anything happen to you.” Nick says reaching to the front seat putting his hand on your shoulder.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Idk how I feel about this lol. I wrote this in like 20 minutes. Just a thought that popped in my head.

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰: 𝗛𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱

Word Count: 4.3 K (I told you, It's been in my head for a long time)

Warnings: Jeong Yunho x sub!fem reader, Haunting Adeline AU, DUB-CON, partial somnophilia, unprotected sex, olfactophilia (scent play), sexual persuasion, stalker!yunho, oral (fem receiving), possessiveness, nipple play, jealousy, fear play, manipulation, kissing, biting, marking, praise (princess, good girl etc) and body worship.

Warning: 18+ only of course. This is a DARK FIC and it contains taboo and dark depictions of abuse that could be triggering. If you choose to read further, then you have heeded this warning and I hold no responsibility for your emotional well-being.

No sound was more loud and teeth-chattering than the wind howling

The night used to be your friend, a safe space, a creative outlet for your inner world and thoughts.

But now it felt like it was taunting you, teasing you as you held the coffee mug in your frozen hands, forcing yourself to stay awake as the minutes felt slow and agonising.

You prayed for the comfort of being alone now knowing you weren't...ever.

For He was always there.

Another rose was found on the coffee table this morning, all fresh and pruned with the thorns removed and a piece of paper wrapped around the stem.

The delicate handwriting revealed the next mission of this uninvited presence and it caused you to feel a sense of uneasiness you've never felt before.

My patience is running thin. I'll be with you tonight, my princess. Yunho

You silently walked over to the window that was uncovered by the drapes, watching the raindrops fall on the glass as you peered outside to gaze at the shrubbery and looming pine trees.

You hid in the shadows, trying not to reveal your face as you peered out the front of your domain, no sign of civilian life around you at all.

There was fear inside of you, fear of your safety and for your life sure but there was anticipation and curiosity.

Probably a lot less fear than you should have for the stalker who's found you, isolated you and admittedly-cared for you.

Your eyes lock onto the shadow formation in the bushes, your heart racing as you found your dark knight.

His tall, lithe build standing there in the heavy rain, covered in black and the hood of his parka covering his face except for a small sliver that revealed the plumpness of his lips and defined cupid's bow.

The one that has been sending you roses month after months, all pruned with pieces of paper tied around the stem.

The one that has been leaving nicely-packaged gifts on the empty side of your bed, all wrapped in crimson paper with a pretty rose on top.

All containing gifts of the highest quality such as perfume, a silver necklace with the 'Y' initial, makeup, sanitary products (how did he even know when your cycle was?), panties.

The latest one was an oversized plain, black t-shirt that smelt of musk and cologne, it smelt like he had worn it, slept in it...some perverted part of you wondered if he had worn it whilst jerking off with you in his mind- what was he even thinking about doing to you?

All the messages he gifted to you all revealed the same desires but with sickly, sweet words.

How he yearns for you. How he loves you, how he just wants to protect you, care for you, be your safety net from the cruelty of the world.

His desire to take you, claim you, ravage you, to bend and mould you to his will.

It felt like you were being courted and hunted for at the same time, were you to be his Queen or a gilded bird locked in a cage?

The reality of the situation quickened when the shadow form moved, your eyes locked on how his lips turned into a twisted smirk and he lifted his right hand to offer you a slow, taunting wave.

You quickly dashed away from the window without bothering to close it, running to the middle living and dropping yourself in front of the glowing hearth- wrapping the blanket around your shoulders further tightly around your body.

Ring the police, scream, run...why aren't you doing this? You hadn't even locked the doors...why? What's wrong with you?

The truth was this man brought out a perverted joy in you, the joy of being wanted, of being pursued, a temptation stirred in your belly at what could happen tonight.

He wouldn't kill you (at least you hoped) and you were tired, burnt out, lonely...maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to let him in?

The thoughts were too much for your sleep-deprived brain to cope with and in front of the hearth with a pillow on the floor and your blanket wrapped around you.

You fell asleep.

You lost the game.

The room was steeped in darkness, the only light a faint sliver of moonlight filtering through the curtains. The air was thick with the kind of stillness that made everything feel suspended in time.

Yunho stood silently near your feet, watching you scrunch your nose up cutely whilst you were asleep on the floor with the hearth flame slowly turning into ash.

He had been watching you for what felt like hours, the corners of his lips curled in a faint, almost tender smile. There was something intoxicating about your vulnerability, the way you were completely unaware of his presence. You were so peaceful, so trusting in your sleep, and it stirred something dark and possessive within him.

Yunho moved closer, the floorboards creaking ever so slightly under his weight. His breath hitched as he reached out, his fingers hovering just above your skin. He could feel the warmth radiating from you could almost hear the blood pulsing just beneath the surface. The urge to touch you, to claim you as his own, was overwhelming. Yet, he held back, savoring the moment, relishing in the power he had over you.

But he resisted, choosing instead to let his fingers trace a delicate line down the side of your face, his touch as light as a feather.

Your skin was soft, impossibly soft, and he could feel you shiver under his touch, your body reacting even in sleep. It was intoxicating, this power he held over you, this control. He could do anything—anything—and you would be helpless to stop him. The thought sent a thrill down his spine, dark and thrilling, as he leaned in even closer, his lips hovering just above your ear.

“Mine,” he whispered, the word barely audible, but it sent a shiver through you, your body instinctively curling in on itself, as if trying to escape an unseen threat. Yunho’s smile widened, satisfaction and something far darker curling in his chest. You were his, in every sense of the word, and tonight he would make sure you knew it.

As if sensing the shift in the air, your eyes flutter open, groggy and unfocused at first. You blink, your vision clearing, only to find Yunho’s face inches from your own, his eyes dark and intense, filled with an emotion that sends a chill down your spine. Panic surges through you as you try to push yourself up, but Yunho’s hand is already on your wrist, holding you in place with a grip that is firm yet strangely gentle.

“Shhh,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, but there’s a sinister edge to it, a promise of something far more dangerous lurking beneath the surface. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, a wild, frantic rhythm that matches the fear rising within you. But there’s something else too, something that makes your pulse quicken for an entirely different reason. His gaze is intense, burning with a possessive hunger that makes you feel both terrified and inexplicably drawn to him.

“What do you want?” you breathe, your voice trembling as you search his eyes for any hint of mercy, but all you find is that same dark intensity, a need that matches your own but twisted into something far more dangerous.

Yunho’s smile is slow, almost predatory, as he leans in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “You. I want you, all of you. And I’m not letting you go.”

The words send a shiver through you, a mix of fear and something far more dangerous, something that makes your pulse race with a heady mix of terror and desire. You know you should fight, should scream, should do anything to escape his hold, but all you can do is stare into his eyes, trapped in the dark, magnetic pull of his gaze.

And then, with a gentleness that belies the darkness in his eyes, Yunho releases your wrist, his fingers brushing against your skin as he pulls back slightly, giving you just enough space to breathe, to think, but not enough to escape. The room feels colder without his touch, and you realize with a start that a part of you misses the warmth, the connection, no matter how twisted it is.

“What are you going to do to me?” you whisper, your voice barely audible, your fear mixing with a curiosity you can’t quite suppress.

Yunho’s smile is slow, almost lazy, as if he has all the time in the world. “That depends on you,” he replies, his voice soft but filled with a dangerous promise. “But one thing is certain—you won’t ever want to leave me. Not after tonight.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and full of meaning, as Yunho’s gaze holds yours, daring you to resist, to fight, even as he knows you won’t. Not really. The darkness in him calls to something deep within you, something you hadn’t known existed until this moment, something that responds to his possessiveness, his unyielding desire to claim you as his own.

And as the tension thickens between you, you realize with a start that you’re not entirely sure you want to resist. Not when the alternative is losing yourself completely to the dark, twisted allure of Yunho’s obsession.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, but there’s an edge to it, a raw, unfiltered need that makes your breath catch in your throat. “I’ll take care of you my princess, I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted… if you let me.”

His hand moves to your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse, feeling the frantic beat of your heart beneath his touch. You can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” Yunho whispers, his lips grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. “For you. You have no idea how much I want you.”

His dark hair frames his lashes and enhances the intensity of his gaze, the parka gone from his shoulders and now replaced by a black, long-sleeved henley shirt and his cheeks flushed red with desire.

His other hand moves to your waist, pulling you closer, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he’s afraid you might disappear if he’s too rough. But you’re not going anywhere—you can’t, even if you wanted to.

There’s a moment of hesitation, a brief second where you could pull away, where you could resist the pull of his gaze, the magnetic attraction that binds you to him.

'How I needed you'

His lips brush against yours, soft and tentative at first, and whatever resistance you might have had crumbles beneath the intensity of the moment.

The kiss is slow, deliberate, filled with a hunger that Yunho has kept restrained for far too long. His hand moves from your neck to cradle the back of your head, deepening the kiss, and you find yourself responding, your body leaning into him, craving the warmth and the connection despite the fear that lingers in the back of your mind.

Yunho groans against your lips, the sound vibrating through your entire body, sending a rush of heat pooling in your lower abdomen. His grip on your waist tightens, pulling you even closer until there’s no space left between you. The kiss becomes more urgent, more demanding, and you can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

When he finally pulls back, you’re both breathless, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to process what just happened. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes half-lidded, dark with desire as he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, the words a possessive growl that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. “Say it.”

There’s no hesitation in your response, the words tumbling from your lips before you can even think to stop them. “I’m yours.”

Yunho’s eyes flare with satisfaction, and then he’s kissing you again, harder this time, his hands roaming your body with a need that borders on desperation.

He drapes his body over yours and cements you to the floor, his body providing all the heat you needed as he kisses down your neck, his teeth clamping down on the skin and leaving a mark.

A dark chuckle leaves his breath as you moan at the sting, the sensation changing as he licks over it to soothe the pain before averting his attention to the base of your throat.

You could feel how hard he was as he grinded on your thigh, it aroused and terrified you about how big he felt, your imagination betraying you as the thought of how you would take him made your mouth water.

Fuck, you hoped he was nice enough to prep you or would he be mean and expect you to take that thick cock of his without any prep at all?

His hands tug at the fabric of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one fluid motion. You shiver as the cool air hits your skin, but the chill is quickly replaced by the heat of Yunho’s touch as his hands explore every inch of you, memorizing the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. “So perfect.”

The praise sends a flush of heat through you, your body arching into his touch, craving more.

Your thoughts were undone when his hands cupped the curve of your breasts, squeezing them gently and kneading the flesh as a moan echoed from his throat.

'So soft, so full, just like how I imagined them princess' His voice was deep, raspy and filled with need as he leaned down and wrapped his lips around the bud, his tongue swirling and suckling as he kneaded the other one with his fingers.

Yunho could be buried in your tits all day and it would feel like heaven to him, his teeth scraping the edge as he pulled away with a thick, sucking noise before moving on to the other.

His lashes fluttered and his moans were beginning to sound like music to your ears, your hands gripping the surface beneath you as you stifled your moans, though you weren't not sure why- no one could hear you.

He pulled his mouth away from your swollen bud before reaching up to gently tilt your chin down so you could see him, his pupils blown-out and dilated- who was fucked more, you or him?

'Don't silence yourself- I need to hear you princess. You can try and fight this but I see the way you respond to me. You crave this as much as I do, even if you won't admit it'.

Your body shivered at those words as Yunho placed kisses down your naval, biting the skin every so often so your body was a myriad of his kisses and claims.

A squeal left your body as Yunho roughly pulled your hips to him, grabbing the fabric of your thin leggings and tearing the material near the crotch region.

You were fascinated at how he could tear the fabric with his bare hands, watching the veins in his hands, neck and forearms dance as he pulled the material roughly down your legs.

'I never want you this clothed when you're with me princess, I'm going to steal all the pants you own. Want you easy and pliable for when I come to your room and fuck you senseless every night'.

Yunho's eyes turned predatory and wild as he buried his nose in your panties, his hands holding down your hips and fingers kneading into the flesh.

The tip of his nose rubbed your clit through the material and your cheeks reddened at the sound of him inhaling your scent, a deep guttural groan resounded through the room.

"Mmm, you smell so sweet, baby. I could stay between your legs forever," Yunho growled, his voice rough with desire. His hands tightened around your hips as he pressed his nose harder against your clothed core, the warmth of his breath sending shivers through your body.

Your back arched involuntarily, a gasp slipping past your lips as he dragged his nose down, teasing the edge of your panties with his tongue. "You're trembling already, princess," he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk. "I haven't even started."

Yunho’s fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. His gaze was dark, hungry, and it made your heart race in your chest. "Gonna ruin you, you know that, right?" His voice was low, full of promise, and it sent heat pooling between your thighs.

With your panties tossed aside, he wasted no time, his mouth finding its place against your bare skin. His tongue flicked out, teasing your clit, while his grip on your hips kept you pinned firmly in place. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve alight with pleasure as he worked you over with expert precision.

"Yunho..." you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair, desperate for something to hold onto as your body began to quake beneath him. He hummed against you, the vibrations only adding to the intensity of your pleasure.

"You taste even better than I imagined," he groaned between licks, his voice barely above a whisper. "I could make you come like this, princess, but I want you to beg for it first."

Your body bucked against him, desperate for more, but his grip tightened, keeping you in place. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "Say it," he commanded, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me how bad you need me."

Your breath hitched, every part of you aching with want. "I need you, Yunho. Please... don't stop."

His eyes darkened even more, satisfaction washing over his features. "Good girl." Then, without warning, he dove back in, his tongue and fingers relentless as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, the room filled with the sound of your breathless moans and his low growls.

You were lost in the haze of pleasure, your body trembling uncontrollably as he devoured you, your release building until it was impossible to hold back. With a final cry, you shattered, waves of ecstasy crashing over you as Yunho held you through it, his mouth never letting up until you were completely spent beneath him.

Panting, you stared up at the ceiling, still dazed from the intensity of it all. Yunho wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking as he crawled up your body, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

"That's just the start, princess," he whispered against your lips, his breath mingling with yours. "You better be ready for more."

Yunho pulled back from the kiss, his lips still hovering over yours, but his eyes were blazing with something darker. His fingers trailed over your flushed skin, gripping your throat just tight enough to send a pulse of fear through you, but it only heightened the intensity of the moment.

"You think this is enough?" he growled, his voice dripping with an edge of dangerous obsession. "No, baby, I’m not even close to being done with you. You’re mine, all of you. I don’t care who’s looked at you, touched you before. From now on, I’m the only one who gets to claim you."

His hands roamed possessively over your body, fingers digging into your skin like he wanted to leave marks—like he wanted to brand you as his. "I’m going to make sure you feel me everywhere," he whispered, leaning in to nip at your ear. "You’ll wake up every morning aching for me, and no one else will ever satisfy you the way I do."

He leaned down, his tongue darting out to lick the sweat from your neck before sucking hard on the sensitive spot beneath your jaw. The bite of pain mixed with pleasure sent a shockwave through you, your body reacting instantly, but Yunho only grinned, like he could feel your helplessness.

"You think you can get away from me?" His voice was a low growl as he pressed his body flush against yours, trapping you beneath him. "You think you have any choice but to need me? No, baby, you belong to me. I’ll make sure of it."

His eyes flashed with something feral as he dragged his fingers down your body, his nails scraping just enough to leave faint red lines on your skin. "I’ll steal every last piece of you until there's nothing left for anyone else. You won’t be able to think about anyone but me."

He ripped his shirt off with one swift motion, revealing the sculpted muscle underneath, and his hands went to the button of his jeans, his gaze never leaving yours. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else," he said, his voice gravelly and raw. "You're going to beg me, over and over, for more, and I’ll make sure you're dripping with nothing but me."

He leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "You're not going anywhere, princess. You're mine. And I’m going to remind you of that every night, every time you try to breathe without me."

His grip on you tightened, and his lips curved into a wild smirk. "I’m going to make sure you never forget who owns you."

He had you locked underneath him, using his frame and height like the gilded cage he wanted to contain you in. He needed you to understand the size of him, his height, his strength and how he could overpower you in every single way.

Your eyes opened to see his shoes thrown on the floor and Yunho pulling down the zipper of his jeans, both of you naked and the hearth silhouetting Yunho's frame.

He looked like Hades who had crawled out of the shadows, an unworldly beauty only enhanced by the onyx of his eyes which were filled with an insatiable need, a need to brand you with his soul or whatever you were willing to fucking take of his.

His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he pumped himself, your eyes widening when you saw how big he was- long, thick and girthy and your mouth became dry from the thought of it inside you.

"I’m going to make sure you feel me everywhere," he whispered, removing his hand to move your legs around his hips, "You’ll wake up every morning aching for me, and no one else will ever satisfy you the way I do."

You flinched at the feeling of the tip of his cock near your entrance, his other hand planted against the side of your face, his breath ghosted over your face he murmured against your lips.

"Tell me you're mine again, princess. Say it'.

Your pulse raced, the intensity of his words wrapping around you like a vice. "I'm yours, Yunho," you gasped, your voice trembling with both fear and need.

He thrust into you without warning, the possessiveness in every movement making your mind spin. Each thrust was a declaration, a reminder that Yunho wasn’t just taking you—he was claiming every part of you, stamping his presence on your body, heart, and soul. The world outside faded until there was nothing but him, his heat, his grip, his hunger.

'Ahh, you feel like heaven' He moaned out in ecstasy before kissing you feverishly, the swipes of his tongue matching the pace of his hips 'you're my heaven'.

A changed position has you beginning to drool for him as he drops this knees down, grabs your thighs and pushes them towards your chest, angling his hips higher and grinding over your clit.

'You're my life, I'd live for you, I'd- ahhh! I'd kill for you, I'd murder everyone in the whole world if it keeps you safe and with me'.

The overwhelming intensity of his movements drove you to the edge, and soon you were unraveling beneath him, your body quaking as he pulled you deeper into the ecstasy.

As you cried out his name, your voice hoarse from the pleasure, Yunho groaned, his own release following not long after. He held you tight, as if letting you go now would be impossible.

Yunho’s grip remained firm as he buried his face against your neck, his breath hot and ragged. The way his body pressed into yours felt overwhelming, suffocating even, as though he was trying to imprint himself on every inch of your skin.

When he finally pulled back, his breath heavy and eyes dark, Yunho stared down at you with something that made your blood run cold. His thumb traced your lips, slow and possessive, his gaze never wavering. "You can try to get away," he murmured, his voice low and almost too calm. "But no one knows you like I do. No one will ever have you like this."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling in your chest like a vice. His lips ghosted over your ear, the air between you thick with tension. "I’ve been watching you for so long... you can’t escape me now, princess."

The possessive tone in his voice was chilling, his eyes wild with a dark obsession. There was no softness here, no tenderness—only the certainty that he wasn’t letting go.

"I’ll always be watching. Always." His grip tightened slightly as if to remind you that he was never far away.

Happy surprise party gift to you from me! This is a sneak peek into next month's Kinktober and the fics won't be as long as this but thank you to everyone who supported me with posting this- I'm about to go to sleep because I'm so nervous.

I'm going to include my taglist and ppl who commented on my post regarding this fic- only read if you're interested.

Taglist: @mykryptonitelight @cursedeastern @sugarnspice630 @ja3hwa @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell @scuzmunkie @marievllr-abg @umbralhelwolf @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @junieshohoho @gyuhanniescarat @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @hologramhoneymoon @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @laylasbunbunny @anyamaris @krishastumblernow @hexheathen @i-love-ateez @michel-angelhoe @northerngalxy @justaaveragereader @silentreaderthings @daddysspecialdollyworld @abby-grace @wisejudgedragonhairdo @smilefordongil @writhingwrecked @hongthoven @almightyddeonghwa @planet-dawn

[keeira2]

I’LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU

stalkerexbf!rafe x fem!reader

masterlist

summary: life takes a weird turn when your introduced with an anonymous stalker. but everything changes when he breaks into your house and your met with him face to face..

warnings: crazy!rafe, pantie stealing?, creepy!rafe, rafe threatens you with a gun, sort of cnc, heavy on the smut, CNC, spit kink, degrading kink, tied up reader, soft!rafe at the end? MDNI 18+!! if i miss any pls lmk

a/n: this is kinda long whoops, not rlly proof read so ignore any mistakes pls. it’s also rlly kinky js giving everyone a heads up. hope you guys like it :3

after another long shift at the pelican yacht club, you’re finally home. throwing your keys onto the kitchen bench nd undress for ur shower. which was what you desperately needed after serving snobby kooks for the past six hours. you let the hot water fall down your body. scrubbing ur scalp and body clean of any grime from the day.

wrapped in ur towel, you walk to ur bedroom to get dressed. grabbing a baggy tee nd a lacy thong. as ur going thru ur lingerie drawer, you notice ur favourite pair of black panties missing? which was weird because you remember folding them nd placing them in there the night before.

you brush past it, getting dressed nd collapsing onto the bed to watch murder documentaries. after less than half the episode, you find urself drifting into a deep sleep.

days, even weeks go by, your daily routine unphased. another closing shift at work, you grab ur belongings nd start to walk home. usually you’d catch the bus, but when you close it’s already 10pm nd there aren’t any buses running this late to the cut. so you walk home, wrapped in ur fur hoodie trying to ignore the cold air.

it’s only a 10 minute walk to get home, which has never been a problem especially bc you know most ppl in the cut. but this time you feel a burning gaze shooting right thru you.

you shiver, partly because it’s cold but mostly bc you have an overbearing feeling that ur being watched. you hear a rustling in the bushes behind you, which could’ve been the wind but you were NOT taking any chances. so you start to run, not looking back. you don’t stop until you get home, quickly unlocking the door nd slamming it closed behind you.

you make sure to lock all the doors and windows before hopping in the shower, which helped you shake the creepy feeling off of you. you heat up some popcorn nd snuggle under your covers.

ur trying to pick a movie to watch, occasionally leaning over to grab a handful of popcorn you hear your phone ‘ding!’. lazily reaching over to grab and check it, you freeze when ur gaze lands on the message.

unknown number: you don’t need to run away from me, doll. was js making sure you got home safe ;)

someone was following you. oh my god. you sat still for a moment, still in shock. how did they get your number? how long have they been following you? you basically led them to your home, do they know where you live now?

millions of thoughts racing through ur head, you couldn’t help but text back, your hands shaking over the letters.

you: who are you???? please leave me alone.

before you can even shut ur phone off, another ‘ding!’ catches your attention like he was waiting for your response.

unknown number: you’ll find out who i am soon enough. i’m just looking after you, don’t be scared, doll.

what does he mean i’ll found out soon enough? is he gonna come after me? did he follow me home? you’re literally shaking in fear now, ur mind racing with different possibilities.

you: please. leave me alone.

you see he’s typing, but stops. he doesn’t text you for the rest of the night, maybe he listened and he’s actually gonna leave you alone. you were just hoping that maybe it was a prank from ur friends. anything except the fact that you might actually have a stalker.

you struggle to fall asleep that night. tossing and turning in your bed, desperately trying to calm yourself. ‘the doors are locked, nobody can get in. ur okay’ you reassure yourself.

a few days go by and you start to notice more panties going missing. what the fuck? you’re left with only a few pairs now, and there’s no way you’ve just misplaced them. the realisation dawns on you. what if he’s been here. has he been in ur house??

you try calming yourself down. ensuring every window nd door is locked. sitting back down ur cozy bed, u slip under the covers and bring ur knees up to your chest in a fetal position. your breathing is heavy while u hold ur head in ur hands. you quietly sob. ur so scared. you’ve only been living by yourself for 6 months and you were scared then. why me??

you didn’t even realise how much time had gone by or when you’d gotten tired. but you rub your closed eyes, letting out a big yawn and stretching your arms out. but when you finally open them, you freeze.

a man is standing in ur room, looking right at you. you can’t muster up the courage to say anything so you just stare back completely still, unable to see his face.

“hey doll, you miss me?” a familiar voice asks, stepping closer.

your mouth falls agape. no. no. no. no. no. this cannot be happening. you’d ended things with him MONTHS ago after he started acting out, getting angry all the time, threatening to hurt you and being literally insane. you blink ur tears away, one managing to roll down ur cheek.

“r-rafe..?” you whisper, if the house wasn’t completely silent he wouldn’t have been able to hear you.

“you’re so pretty when ur sleeping, baby.” taking a step closer to you now. you try to move backwards but ur back already pressed against the bed frame. u see him reach behind him, pulling what looks like a gun out of his back pocket.

“n-no, no please.. what are you doing?” you ask shakily, trying to back away further away from him to the other side of the bed.

he sighs, “i don’t wanna have to use this, doll,” shaking the gun in his hand to refer to it,” just listen to what i say and don’t give me a reason to hurt you, alright?”

you tremble with fear, “please, rafe, please leave.. i wont tell anyone. just please” you plead with him. praying that he’ll just go and never come back, even tho you know deep down that’s not gonna happen.

“m’sorry, no can do,” taking another step foward until he’s standing over you, ”missed you so much, can’t leave now.”

his words made your heart flutter, you couldn’t help it. you couldn’t deny the way ur thighs clenched together at the thought of him putting in all this effort just to see you. why are you like this oh my god?? no. u want him to leave. you need him to leave.

after a second of hesitation you finally ask “..what do you want, rafe?” wiping a tear from ur face.

he sits down across from you on the bed, holding the gun up to face you. ‘he’s only doing this to scare you.. he would never actually hurt you’ you try convincing yourself.

“aw come on, don’t be like that, angel” his hand grazing ur knee, before placing his large hand inbetween them to gently pull ur legs apart, “i bet ur so wet right now, so desperate f’me.” he groans nd u notice the massive buldge in his jeans.

u shake ur head, “no, rafe,” you sob again, “please go.” he brings the hand that’s holding the gun to your face, pushing the hair out of ur face with it, “sh sh, it’s okay.. ur okay. save the tears for when i’m done with you, alright?”

you don’t know if that’s reassurance or a threat but either way you feel your pussy getting wetter, his hand travelling lower until its resting on ur plush thigh.

“i need you to stay still, baby, or ur gonna get hurt.” he warns sternly before standing up and reaching for his back pocket again, pulling out a thick rope. u already know how this is gonna go.

he snatches both ur hands nd goes to tie them to the headboard. u squirm nd use ur trembling body to try and push him off, he doesn’t budge until u slap his face. his face turning back to you slowly, a hand against his jaw with a smirk.

“what did i just say? hm? ur gonna regret that, doll, makin me do things i rlly didn’t wanna do.” with a harsh grip he snatches ur wrists again, ur body squirming trying to release your arms but to no avail. when ur wrists are tied down, you whince, the pressure making you sore.

he reaches down to grip ur face and pulls you in to a desperate, hungry kiss. he hovers over you, pulling ur legs apart with his body. his tongue invading your mouth. as much as you hated this, you couldn’t help but kiss him back.

when he finally pulls away he wastes no time in ripping off ur shirt, “no bra, hm? knew you wanted this.” he groans and attaches his lips to ur tits, licking and sucking at ur nipples causing you to let out a series of faint moans.

rafe pulls away, snatching ur knees to spread your legs apart wide. eyeing you down, admiring the wet patch he’s created through ur panties. he lays on his stomach infront of you, giving ur thighs open mouth kisses.

“r-rafe, please..hmmpf” u whine. u don’t know if ur asking him to stop or if u want him to do more. ur so ashamed.

“please what, doll? use ur words cmon.” he teases ur swollen clit with his thumb, over the fabric of ur soaked panties.

when u don’t respond, his big hand slaps your pussy, causing you to let out a scream. “i said use ur fucking words” he raises his voice at you.

“p-please, eat me out,” u whimper when he rubs circles over ur clit, “need you.” that was enough to please him. so he tugs ur panties off, sliding them off ur legs and his tongue was licking a long stripe thru ur folds. “u taste so good, baby” he mumbles into you. without any warning, he inserts two fingers and thrusts mercilessly, now sucking ur puffy clit.

you let out a scream, or a moan, you didn’t know what it was but he makes you feel so so good. almost made you forget how he’s been breaking into your house and stalking you.

u tug to wrap your hands in his hair but remember ur wrists are tightly bound. he’s holding u down with one hand and fucking you with the other.

you feel yourself getting close, clenching around his fingers. u start to squirm, lifting your hips so he can get deeper but he detaches his mouth from ur clit and pulls out his drenched fingers.

“..why’d you stop?” you whimper, desperate for your release.

“youll cum when i say you can.” your eyes pleading with him but he shakes his head. “now your gonna take my cock like the filthy slut you are.” reaching for his belt nd yanking his jeans nd boxers off.

he starts teasing your folds with his cock, making you squirm even more. you know this is wrong. he’s insane. but you can’t help but enjoy his torment.

suddenly he roughly thrusts into you, without letting you adjust, pounding into you ruthlessly. the sounds of your skins clapping, his heavy grunts and your screams echo the room.

your legs unconsciously wrap around his waist. his hands grip onto your hips tightly, surely leaving bruises for you in the morning. “r-rafe, fuck, please sto-“ you screech when he goes in deeper. “fucking take it, quit complaining.” he yells before taking your tit in one hand, teasing your nipple inbetween his fingers.

he knew your body so well. you hated it. if this was anybody else you wouldn’t have been enjoying it like you are now. but it’s rafe. even when he was acting crazy in your relationship, he always made sure you knew how much he loved and cared for you. how he would do anything for you.

you can feel your release finally coming. you clench around his cock, silently begging he’ll let you cum. but to no avail, he pulls out. he unwraps your legs and sits over your chest. “open.” when you don’t comply he grabs your jaw and sticks his thumb into your mouth, “i said fucking open.” the second your lips start to part, he pushes his dick into your mouth, thrusting relentlessly making you gag around him. tears start to well in your eyes and when you try to pull your head away he latches his hand in your hair to stop you from moving. finally releasing you when you feel his cock twitch, followed by a hot flow of cum invading your throat.

he grabs onto your jaw again, giving you three light slaps to you cheek and spits in your mouth. “fucking swallow it,” hesitantly you do, opening your mouth back up and sticking out your tounge to show him.

he smirks, content with the sight in front of him. your hair disheveled, hot tears covering your cheeks and that look in your eyes, which you always had when you were around him. his sweet angel. he loved ruining you.

“rafey.. can i cum now, please? i’ve been a good girl.” you beg. the nickname making him flustered, which fortunately for him you don’t notice in the dark room.

“d’you think you deserve it?” he asks teasing to which you nod eagerly.

“please.” all your self respect and pride out the window now because you were so cockdrunk on ur psycho ex boyfriend you couldn’t think properly.

he shuffles back, spreading your legs apart again and moves his hand towards where you need him most. he begins toying with ur swollen clit before thrusting back into you. this time slower but just as deep.

you don’t hold back your moans, he makes you feel so good. but your cockdrunk haze interrupted when he started to speak again. “tell me you love me.” he groans, his eyes locking on yours. his thrusts hitting deeper, picking up the pace.

you were immediately taken aback. ofcourse you loved him, it’s rafe. but he’s crazy, god, he broke into your house and threatened you with a gun. he noticed your hesitation and starting rubbing your clit, almost sending you over the edge.

“y-yes, fuck, rafe i love you! hmmpf” you scream, your pussy clenching around him once again, his hand tightly gripping your throat. his thrusts brutal, pounding into you. you tug at the ropes bouncing your wrists when you feel pure bliss, your mind hazed and your pussy aching. his thrusts not stopping to ride out your high. you let out a loud, shaky moan/scream. the neighbours probably thought you were getting murdered. your orgasm leaves you limp, only ur legs shaking when he pulls out, yanking his boxers and pants back up.

what you’ve just done dawns over you. you’re so ashamed. you actually begged him to keep going. your tears reappear, trying to be as quiet as possible so rafe doesn’t notice and yell at you again. you wanted to kick him out, call the police and never see him again. the other part of you wanted him to hold you in his arms while you cry, and beg him never to leave your side. but right now, rafe decides for you.

he leans over to give you a sweet peck on the lips and reaches for your bound wrists. “are you gonna be good?” he whispers, eyes scanning your face for any lies. “i’ll be good, rafe. promise.” and you meant it, even tho you were choking back sobs of humiliation, you still meant it.

he untied the rope, your wrists aching and bruises already appearing. he leaves pecks all over the markings, which is his way of saying he’s sorry for hurting you. “i love you so much, y/n” he confesses, straightening back up to face you again. without even thinking, you lean forward, taking his jaw in your hands and you kiss him.

the kiss is beautiful, it wasn’t rushed or heated. it was slow and meaningful. when you finally pull away, you avoid his gaze. “i love you, rafey,” his eyes widen, he didn’t think you’d actually say it back. he knew you said it before, not because you meant it but because he basically forced you. but you did mean it. you never had stopped loving him, you were just tired of his lack of sanity.

he stands up and walks out of your room, leaving you on the bed alone without saying a word. a minute goes by, you felt so dirty and disgusting now. but before any worse thoughts could swarm your head, you hear footsteps heading towards your room. rafe is back, and hes holding a towel. oh, how you missed him.

he taps your thigh, signalling you to spread your legs and cleans up the mess you’d both made. discarding the towel, he crawls onto your bed and slides under the covers with you. “i’m really sorry, baby. i wasn’t trying to scare you. i just- i didn’t know what else to do.” his excuse was sloppy (and insane) but you still forgave him. you knew he was messed up, but so were you. in his head, he was just trying to show you how much he loved you, even tho to any normal person it’s a really creepy way to get someone back, you understood enough to let him hold you.

his arms wrapped around your waist, ur head snuggled in the warmth of his neck. “i know, rafe.. i’ll always love you.” you whispered before drifting to a heavy sleep in the comfort of his arms.

[dumbseee]

oh shit.

pro hero!bakugo who has a crush on you.

pro hero!bakugo katsuki x idol!reader.

genre: fluff

__

- the first time bakugo agreed to do an interview was because todoroki and izuku were also there. the top three heroes were asked all sorts of questions before the journalist finally asked thee question. "so~ you guys are so private, we don’t really know much about you. so let’s get to know our top three heroes! first question, who is your celebrity crush?" she asked, a smirk on her lips as she looked at the three heroes in front of her. izuku blushed, fumbling with his answer, todoroki crossed his arms on his chest, saying that he had no time for that kind of stuff, and bakugo scoffed, crossing his legs on the small table in front of them. "celebrity crush? do you have other shitty questions or are we done?" he glared at the interviewer who nearly melted on the spot. izuku elbowed his friend and offered an awkward smile to the poor woman. "but aren’t you a big fan of y/n? i heard you sing her songs under the shower, one time." shoto chimed in, face blank. "what?! no! what are you saying ice hot?! i’ll fucking crush your face, come here!" bakugo jumped from his seat and had to be restrained by izuku and a few security guards, meanwhile shoto sat there, wondering what he did wrong this time.

- the interview went viral, with everyone making fun of the mighty dynamight and his little crush on you. he nearly sent shoto to the moon after seeing all those edits of you and him on social media or your fans calling him the president of the fandom. your fans are even shipping you together! and he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t like it. he actually made a fake twitter and tiktok account where he’d like and favourite every single edit/tweet about you. he’d be smiling and blushing like a high schooler in the dark of his room.

- he has a locked drawer in his room, where he keeps all your albums and merch. he’d literally set on fire whoever manage to open it and discover his little secret.

- he spent hours in front of his phone, the screen showing your dm page on instagram, he wanted to dm you so bad. make the first move and try to get close to you, but bakugo was a coward, as funny as it sounded, bakugo was very intimidated by you. he ended up throwing his phone away, he’d try again tomorrow.

- one day he got called for an incident involving a woman and someone who tried to break into her house. nothing major so bakugo went alone, imagine his shock when he saw that the victim was you and the man was your stalker who’s been following you and harassing you for months. he immediately saw red and grabbed the man, slammed him to the ground and threatened to shove a bomb down his ass if he moved. "are you okay?" when you saw dynamite arrive from your window, you immediately ran outside, since you felt safe with the hero around. you hugged yourself and nodded, looking down at the shaking man, but bakugo didn’t believe you. soon enough, police arrived to arrest the man and everyone left, leaving you alone with bakugo. "he’ll leave you alone now, i’ll make sure of it." he smiled gently, putting a hand on your shoulder you forced a smile but slowly lost it when you saw him getting ready to leave. you quickly grabbed his hand and looked at him with pleading eyes, the sight made his heart jump. "please, will you stay with me?" how could he say no?

- bakugo couldn’t get rid of the pink color decorating his cheeks. it was the first time he met his celebrity crush and bakugo wished it was different. he wished he came earlier so you wouldn’t even be aware that your stalker was trying to break into your home. you offered him some food and water but he declined everything, you were getting ready for bed when the incident happened so you were exhausted from practice and rehearsal. you also felt bad for keeping him with you when he was clearly busy or tired from patrolling. "i’m so sorry for bothering you, i know he won’t come back, but i’m still terrified." you played with your hand and felt tears burning your eyes. "don’t. you don’t have to be ashamed for feeling scared, but trust me when i say this, this bastard won’t ever come close to you again." he said it in such a low tone, you thought you imagined it. you nodded and hugged him, which surprised him to no end and also made him as red as a tomato. he didn’t know what to do with his hands so he simply put them around your waist, gently patting your back.

- you fell asleep with the light on, bakugo was sitting on the chair next to your bed and kept his eye on you. he stayed with you till the sun woke up. he noticed every detail of your face, the small freckles decorating your beautiful nose, your long and dark lashes, your full and soft lips and overall your beautiful face. you were, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman bakugo had ever seen in his life. while looking at you, he felt a weird sense of possessiveness and protection wash over him. he wanted to protect you and make sure no one would ever hurt you again.

- when you woke up, you saw a small note on your nightstand, "had to leave for work pretty girl, but don’t worry i’ll see you soon. here’s my number: xxx - xxx - xxx" you didn’t know why but you smiled at his note. of course, you immediately registered his number and sent him a lovely text, thanking him again for yesterday and inviting him for dinner some day. you also signed it "your celebrity crush (;" bakugo almost choke on his coffee when he read your text.

[cheezb6llz]

YAN! STALKER SONIC/SHADOW X STALKER READER

wooo stalker x stalker trope!! basically they break into ur house to watch u sleep or something just to find your room covered in photos of THEMMMM?? (their room looks the same just with photos of reader lol)

SONIC

It was 2:03AM.

You were asleep. Calm. Breathing slowly. The soft hum of the fan covered the quiet sound of air shifting as something, or someone, entered your room.

A blue blur came to a stop. Sonic stood at the foot of your bed, arms relaxed. he had told himself over and over that he wouldn’t do this. That just watching you from a distance was enough. That sneaking in wasn’t necessary. But curiosity had slowly become obsession, and Sonic had never been great at holding back.

What he saw when he stepped inside? He froze.

“…Whoa.”

His voice came out soft, barely a breath.

Your walls were covered in him.

Pictures, newspaper articles, photos from races and missions, even a few grainy ones that had clearly been taken from afar. Some had red strings connecting them. Others had little hearts. There was even one of him mid battle.

“Oh, you’re just as bad as me..” he whispered, grinning like a maniac.

His eyes scanned the room. His missing shoe.. he thought he’d lost that. A stray quill from a fight. One of his gloves. Seriously?

He moved toward your desk. reached out and touched a photo. It was him, mid-run, but there was a note written in your handwriting on the corner.

“Look at him. He’s perfect.”

His heart beat quickly as you shifted in your sleep.

Your eyes fluttered open, dazed and half-asleep.

And then your eyes locked on blue fur, green eyes, and a wide, overly satisfied smile.

“Hiya.”

“What the HELL- SONIC!?”

You shot upright, grabbing your pillow like a weapon.

“Easy, easy!” He laughed, hands up. “It’s just me! No need to get all screechy.”

“You broke into my house?!”

“I mean, broke is such a strong word.” He gave you that familiar grin, but his eyes were darting around, soaking up every bit of your insane Sonic themed bedroom.

“I- Oh my god. You saw. You saw everything.”

He stepped closer, his eyes lighting up.

“You kept my glove,” he murmured. “Didn’t even realize it went missing. You’ve been watching me?”

“…I can explain.”

“Don’t.” He grinned wider. “You just made my whole year.”

You stared. “You’re not weirded out?”

“Weirded out?” He laughed, soft, breathy. “Babe, I’ve got a tunnel in Green Hill full of pictures of you. I time my runs so I pass by your place just when you get home. I faked injuries just to visit your town clinic.”

Your jaw dropped.

“You’re crazy-”

“For you.”

He was suddenly right next to you. Grinning, a little flushed, green eyes glowing.

“You don’t get it,” he said, voice low. “I thought I had to hide it. Pretend I was just the fun hero who waved and ran off. But now? Knowing you feel the same?”

He leaned in. Just inches from your face.

“There’s nothing holding me back anymore.”

Your heart was racing. You hated how fast your mind changed from terrified to curious.

“…So what now?” you asked. Sonic’s smile turned dark.

“Now? You’re mine.”

—

SHADOW

The moonlight cast a faint glow across the grass as Shadow stood motionless beneath a tree across from your home. his red eyes gleamed in the dark, focused on your window. You had gone to bed exactly forty seven minutes ago. He knew your routine down to the second.

He told himself this would be the only time he’d do this, that he’d just check in. Make sure you were safe. Nothing more.

But he knew deep down that was a lie.

In the stillness of the night, he murmured,

“Chaos Control.”

A ripple of energy, then silence again.

He stood in your bedroom.

The rush of adrenaline hit him first, the sound of your breathing, the subtle rise and fall of your chest. You looked peaceful, untouched by the darkness of the world. His world.

But then he saw it.

He turned his head slightly, and his breath caught. The wall. The shelves. The desk.

Photos. Of him.

At first he thought his mind was playing tricks. That maybe he’d stepped into some illusion. But the longer he stood there, the clearer it became.

Grainy shots of him mid-battle. Close-ups of his face, some with little hearts drawn next to them. A worn communicator he’d discarded months ago sat neatly displayed. A tuft of his fur???

He stepped forward slowly, eyes narrowing, not in suspicion, but disbelief.

You had watched him. You had collected him.

“You…”

His voice was barely audible. Not even to you, still sleeping. But something twisted deep in his chest. Your obsession mirrored his own.

He reached toward the photos, his fingers hovering over one where he stood atop a burning rooftop, eyes glowing. You’d written next to it in tiny handwriting “I wonder if he thinks about me.”

“Oh, you have no idea..”

Then.. You shifted.

Your eyes blinked open, adjusting to the faint glow of the moonlight through the window.

Then you saw him, sitting at the edge of your bed, staring at your wall.

“…Shadow?”

You bolted upwards.

“What the hell-!? What are you doing in my room!? It’s the middle of the night- How did you even-??”

Shadow didn’t turn to you right away. He simply said.. “You kept my communicator.”

You froze. Your heartbeat quickened as if it wasn’t fast enough already.

“Oh god.”

You stared at the collection of photos and trinkets behind him like it was a shrine. Because, well, it kind of was…!

“I can explain.” you whispered, mortified.

Shadow finally looked at you. His gaze was unreadable.

“You don’t need to.”

He stood, slowly, approaching you.

“I came here tonight to see you. Just for a moment. I didn’t expect to find… this.”

He gestured toward the wall. No judgment. No anger.

“You’ve been watching me.” he continued. “You know what I’ve done. What I’m capable of. And still..”

You looked away. “I know it’s weird.”

“It’s not.”

Your eyes met his again.

Shadow’s expression was calm.

“You’ve seen the worst of me.” He said softly, “And yet… you still admire me. You care.”

You didn’t speak. You didn’t have to.

Shadow stepped closer. Slowly. Carefully. Like a predator approaching prey.

“I thought I’d have to protect you from afar forever.” he murmured. “That if I got too close, you’d run. That I’d hurt you.”

His voice lowered.

“But you’re just like me.”

You felt your breath hitch.

“You… wait, you like me?” you asked, not even sure if you believed it.

Shadow leaned down, brushing your hair away from your face gently.

“I’ve loved you longer than I’ll ever admit.”

Silence wrapped around the room. Then you said it.

“..I’ve loved you too.”

His breath caught, no more restraint.

He leaned in, forehead pressed to yours, his voice rough with emotion.

“You’re mine,” he whispered. “And I won’t let anyone take you from me. Ever.”

And this time, when he sat beside you again, it wasn’t to watch you sleep. It was to stay.

[thatnonameuser]

A Wonderland Of Yanderes

Intro, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 here

There is no safe place here.

No home to return to, and the path back is just so far out of reach, that it's practically nonexistent.

Ramshackle is nice enough. It's a roof over your head. Walls to protect you from the chill and weather. A bed for you to sleep in at night. But it's not safe.

Rusty old hinges hang on my tiny threads of metal.

Locks on doors and windows are old and can't close properly.

Windows with cracks and holes the hands can fit through and open them with ease.

You chose your bedroom because it had the least holes in the walls and windows, had a bathroom you could use without accidentally bumping into the ghosts, and door that wasn't splintering at the touch of a hand.

But besides that, in the case of an obsessed stalker ready to take you home and away from your life for good, you might as well be sleeping outside.

Your door doesn't lock properly, and the locks on the windows are so weak they might as well not exist. A warm welcome to someone creeping on you in the night, wanting to come in and do whatever creepy or sick things they please.

You covered the holes in the walls and windows with old sheets and furniture, but what's stopping someone from peering through to watch you sleep at night.

It's no sanctuary or safe hiding spot, but where else is there to go?

Asking to room with Ace and Deuce could be a disaster if they decide to cross some very important boundaries as you sleep.

The old dorm is all Crowley could have offered, and after you're meeting today, you doubt he'd be very helpful. Or even concerned.

"Hey Grim, do you wanna stay in my bed tonight?" You don't want to sleep alone tonight, with what you discovered today still fresh in your mind.

"The Great Grim deserves his own bed, Why would he share one with his Henchman!" This coming from someone who sleeps in a basket with an old comforter pilled into it, if the day had been kinder you would've laughed. Would have.

You sigh, "I'll give you your own pillow and half the bed. I just don't want to sleep alone tonight."

Grim grumbles wordlessly for a few seconds before answering with a reluctant "....ok."

You smile, hugging him, "You're the best, Grim."

Grim squirms against your embrace, trying to escape, "Of course I'm the best Henchman! Now lemme go!"

Grimm jumps onto the bed to find your most comfortable pillow as you prop one of the old chairs against the door handle. A makeshift lock, just until you can get some thaumarks together to get a new lock for the door.

Your library escapade had yielded some fruit. You found a book about all the nations laws, so you at least knew were to run if you're being chased. Not helpful for now, but possibly in future, for emergencies.

More importantly, you saw a list of the different types of crazy, separated by dorm. With that it mind, and some helpful books about darling manipulation, capture and possession, you can plan around whatever you face.

Hopefully.

From what you researched each of the seven the dorms were dedicated to were yanderes, whose treatment of their respective darlings matched that of the students.

Ace and Deuce's dorm was your first priority, with their growing fondness for you. Heartslaybul had a reputation for housing the most controlling of yanderes. All obsessed with keeping their darlings under their control and rule. Based on the strictness of the Queen of Hearts, it makes sense that controlling behaviour was the thing that separated them from the rest. You pitied the poor King of Hearts, her darling, a man too afraid of his wife's rules out of fear of being beheaded. It was so hard to believe that Ace and Deuce in the few days you'd known them, and the near death experience you shared together, were anywhere close to that level of a relationship control freak but from what you saw in the hall this afternoon, over a slightly too tight grip or what you wanted to do that afternoon, made you wonder what you hadn't seen before. Who else was like that? What was the extent of their control? How much freedom would they take from you to make themselves happy?

Next was Savanaclaw, a dorm nearly packed to the brim with beastmen, was a dorm full of possessive yanderes. All more than willing to fight their rivals to the death to get their darlings all to themselves. Based on the persistence of the King of Beasts, they will stop at nothing to get their darlings. No crime, not even murder is off the table. King of Beasts' sister-in-law was his darling, whom he killed her husband, his brother, for. If the rest of the dorm is like him, that means they'd willingly kill their own families to get you for themselves. And if that other book was right, they'd get away with it too. You made a mental note to carry a knife if you ever have to go to that dorm.

Octavinelle, similarly is also full of possessive yanderes, though they tend to come from the sea rather than the land. Even if they're similar to the yanderes in Savanaclaw, they're more sneaky than outright violent. The Sea Witch's benevolence mirrors the other students' preferred traps, as she tricked her darling into a deal that ended them in her garden, a mollusk until they stayed 'willingly'. Their preference is catch them, break their spirit and then, obviously, 'profit'. You made a silent promise to yourself then, never ever make a deal, or an arrangement with anyone in that dorm. No matter the offer or the cost.

Scarabia's next. A dorm based on the Sorcerer of the Sands and his mindfulness. In this case, mindfulness is another word for him being manipulative. Mind control was that man's specialty, and the woman who would have been his darling just barely escaped it, if it wasn't for her quick thinking. If the students in that dorm are anything like that, then you need to never speak with them. You might not be able to think that fast on your feet.

Pomefiore, a dorm about tenacity, determination, meant to match that of the Fairest Queen's. The poison that rots within its students are of the obsessive variety, as all of them have one thing in common, and that's their practically worship-level devotion to something about their darlings, that boils over into everything else. That dorm scares you especially, as the book had told you many horrible things. The Pomefiore Dorm Head has a spell book holding all the spells a yandere would ever need. Love potions, lethal poisons, even a spell to lock a darling inside a mirror, just as the Fairest Queen did with her lover, where they'll be forced only to look at whoever trapped them there forever until that person lets them out.

Ignihyde, a dorm of technology has enough history to date back centuries, founded based on the diligence of the King of the Underworld. The story about his darling is eerily familiar to a myth from your world. His wife was stalked for months to years, before being kidnapped and trapped in the dark and lonely underworld till she was tricked into staying forever. It makes perfect sense that dorm is full of stalkers. Devoting all their efforts into learning everything about their lives, before abducting them, and trapping them into the darkness to never see the sunshine again. A rumor recorded in the book said something about the Shroud family, said to have descended straight from the King, who have a very special fruit that has been used from the beginning to bind their darlings to them for the rest of their lives, and the afterlife that follows. That note makes you want to check every nook and cranny in Ramshackle for any cameras hidden from view.

And finally there's Diasomnia, the enigma. Based of the nobility of the Thorn Fae's spirit. That chapter was practically empty. Not one source could be found that had any information about her darling. They could have been the king who stole her wings, the princess she'd cursed or saved, the raven she taught to be human, or someone not mentioned in her tale. They could have been the prize jewel of the dragon's hoard but there was no evidence on how the Fae caught them, what happened to them after the Fae's death. The yanderes in Diasomnia were just as enigmatic. Some were devoted, sadistic, obsessive, but there was never a pattern to follow. No trick consistently used. Nothing. It's probably safest to avoid them at all costs. You don't know what they're capable of, after all.

But now, you can only prepare for the present. And you weren't really prepared, all you had was the sturdiest wooden chair from the dining room and a freshly sharpened knife from the kitchen, for emergencies.

Still, you promised Ace and Deuce you would hang out with them tomorrow, might as well, get some rest before you make yourself sick with worry.

You toss on one of your few pyjamas, the longest ones you own to prevent anyone from peeping in and seeing you in a compromising state of undress while you slept. Crawling into bed, Grim firmly cements his sleeping spot of choice to be right in the middle of where you curled up in bed. You laugh, but it ends in yawn. Exhaustion fills you and your eyes start to fall heavy.

It's only just before you drift off, that the mirror you have on the wall starts to glow.

[snoopyana]

props and mayhem.

l.ch. smut. stalker!anton. he’s in your house, again. male masturbation, mentions of female masturbation, mentions of unsolicited recordings and photographs, voyuerism, stalking, breaking n entering. self-edging, a little orgasm denial, you are asleep during the whole thing. to be safe, noncon but not technically rape.

you can’t see him, but he can see you. he can also hear you, maybe even touch you if he so desired.

it had become a ritual. lock the doors twice, make sure it clicks. check every window in the house, make sure nothing is left cracked open. close all the blinds and curtains, make sure no one can peek-in. after one too many windows left open — after you swore you’d closed them before — it really started to get to you.

it was kind of like OCD in a way, but not full-fledged. just little things to ease your mind before you went to bed at night or before you left the house for work.

faint, yet visible, footprints left on your hardwood. too big to be yours. fingerprints on the dustiest of surfaces, that you certainly haven’t touched in a weeks, months even. clothes shifted, articles even missing. panties, socks, the occasional earring. and yeah, the missing things always turn up again.

but how? by who?

feet tucked under your legs, your head rested on one of the many pillows that crowded your couch. it was supposed to be a chill saturday night, with clueless playing on your living room tv and snacks filling every inch of your coffee table. but you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

you never really felt alone when you live alone.

shifting around the cushions, your eyes scanned the darkened areas of your home. analyzing the shadows in the kitchen, to the dimly lit hallway that led deeper into your home. although nothing moved, nothing was out of place, the feeling wouldn’t fade.

curling up into yourself, it took everything to focus on the tv. keeping your ears split incase something did happen, a weird noise that couldn’t be excused with the age of your home or an appliance. your eyes shifty, incase an uninvited shadow decided to past by.

but even with your heightened senses, hyper-awareness, and borderline crazy precautions, the sound of your backdoor clicking open seemed to slip right past you. just quiet enough to be covered by the noise of your tv. creaking up ever so slowly, avoiding the loud, old floorboards — and slipping into your bedroom.

time and time again, he found his way back inside.

it was an inconvenience at first, when you started to catch onto his nightly — maybe even daytime — visits. his usual point of entry, your bathroom window, locked and sealed after every shower. he’d watch from the shadows as you stood in front of the glass, with one hand keeping your towel in place and the other fumbling around with the hinges on the window. triple-checking that it was locked before exiting. and he realized you were doing this to every window.

as when he attempted to sneak-in through your bedroom, he was met with nothing. the window sadly doing its job and staying shut. windows soon turned to doors and before he knew it, he was completely shut out.

it really irked anton when the blinds were pulled shut and curtain gaps were completely covered. he could only see you when you left the house, but that’s not fair.

because everyone can see you when you leave the house.

he felt, special in a way. you never personally invited him into your home, not once. but he was able to take a peek into what life was like for you inside those walls. it’s what he looked forward to. he never meant to get so deep in, it just simply happened.

when he saw you walking into the library, he couldn’t help but follow. it was like his feet had a mind of their own. and it kept happening, he would wait everyday after his classes to see when you’d arrive — even skipping just to watch you work all day. entering the library and trailing behind you as you shelved returned novels. and soon enough, watching turned into full on following.

memorizing what time you got off work each day, memorizing your license plate, even remembering what path you take if you decided to walk home that day.

he had everything down to a T, by accident.

or maybe it was on purpose, but that didn’t matter to him. all anton cared for, was watching as you made your way home. disappearing into the place, leaving him to wait for you the next day. he couldn’t remember exactly when he got tired of waiting, but it didn’t take long to stop fighting back the urge to go inside — just once.

adrenaline rushing through his body, leaving him a little lightheaded when he first entered your house. exploring the halls, memorizing them actually. anton had the whole layout mapped out in his mind. and that’s when one time, turned into two times and so on.

he also happened to not be able to remember exactly when it turned sexual. at first it was just a crush, a big one at that. an innocent crush really, admiration and love from afar. sure, he’d accidentally seen you naked once or twice while people-watching — but he always looked away!

until he stopped looking away. it went from staring, to taking a photo, and another one, and recording. rushing back to his dorm to jack-off to the exclusive material he’d personally filmed.

but on the nights he caught you in your room — hand down your pajama shorts — he couldn’t necessarily wait until he got back home to deal with the problem in his own pants. that was the time he learned he could cum untouched, multiple times.

so when his main source of pleasure was abruptly snatched from him, it was a problem. a big problem.

but (un)fortunately , he soon learned that your house was aged. the locks were a little rusty, easy to manipulate. so it wasn’t long before he was able to make way inside again. knowing exactly where you were, he avoided venturing into the front of the home, and opted to slip into your bedroom and wait. wait for the television to shut off. wait for your soft slippers to hit the ground as you walked. wait for your bedroom door to open and shut. wait for you to fall asleep.

anton has gotten used to playing the waiting game.

and wait he did.

you were close to knocking out right on the couch, but your back would hate you for that. so instead, you lazily turned off the tv. check. sliding into the slippers that were forgotten in the side of the sofa, you’d gather the empty wrappers and toss them into the kitchen trash. check. body heavy, ready to be at rest, you made your way down the hallway. floorboards groaning under your weight as you shuffled across.

pushing open your room door and quickly closing it again before ultimately flopping down into the mattress. check. and it didn’t take long until the lights in your head were out and you’d lay fast asleep. even falling into a deep sleep recently.

now he was done waiting. slipping from out of his makeshift hiding place in your closet, anton situated himself in your desk chair. turning the seat to have a perfect view of the room, of you.

this part always made his skin crawl and his hands sweat. pulling down his basketball shorts, anton made quick work of his underwear as well. pushing the pieces of fabic down his legs and stuffing the hem of his hoodie into his mouth.

noise was also a major issue.

he’d remember it like it was yesterday(it could have been yesterday, but who’s to say?) when he had gotten a little too excited, a little too loud, a little too bold. moaning as if he owned the place, and nearly personally giving himself a pass to jail and a criminal offense on his record. so now, he started to muffle himself. he could never be entirely quiet.

harshly gripping at his base, his dick twitched and leaked in his fist. every inch of his body overflowing with excitement, his blood could be close to a boil as his body quickly heated up. slowly dragging his inclosed hand up and down, his other tightly gripped onto the plush armrests of you chair — and he was sure to leave a mark with the way his nails ripped into the fabric.

increasing his pace as the night went on, but stopping right before he reached the edge. biting down on his hoodie every single time, tears brimming on his waterline — threatening to slip whenever his warm hand left his body.

thought he had to cut his edging session short, as one particularly loud whine caused you to shift and flip in your bed. even though it gave him a better view of your face, it meant you were now facing him. the risk of getting caught increased ten fold, and it did nothing but make his body even more jumpy and excited.

it made him a little cocky, knowing how close he was to getting caught. but it would never quite happen, anton would slip out just in time before you were completely alert again.

twisting his wrist, it only took a few more pumps before his head was lazily hanging to the side and he was painting his own stomach with cum. groaning into the fabric one last time, anton released the cloth from his mouth. shivering when the damp material came into contact with his heated torso.

pulling up his shorts, anton made his way over to your bed. the boy watched as you slept, taking in how peaceful you seemed all while he had lost his mind seconds before. a loopy smile on his face, his shaky hands brushed away hair from your face.

what would he do without your perfect company. it’s sick entertainment really, but god does it feel good.

hey. are you tired of my ptv lyrics yet? they’re in almost every fic i write, sorry!! anyway, i tried to add a little backstory to this, bc it probably won’t be the last time i use this duo. do we like? or should i scrap it 😞 but this was really fun, im enjoying writing again guys!!

[merrybloomwrites]

Safe and Sound

Summary: Being an online personality on a well known Youtube channel comes with it's fair amount of attention. But when one fan starts to get too close for comfort, Spencer is there to keep you safe.

Word Count: 2.6K

CW: stalker, getting drugged

AN: Another story for Whumptober! This has been in my mind for awhile so I'm happy to share this protective Spencer story with you all! It's a bit of a heavier story again so please make sure to note the content warning and please don't read if those topics make you uncomfortable or trigger you in any way.

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

You always knew that there are people on the internet that are creeps. Or are just plain weird. Getting a job as a cast member as Smosh only confirmed that fact. 

It doesn’t happen every time you're in a video, but you’ll occasionally see some odd comments about you. People who hate you, people who love you a bit too much, people who notice the tiniest, most random things about you. It’s a bit off-putting, but not enough to really concern you. They’re just randos on the internet you will never interact with in real life. 

But then you start to get this weird feeling whenever you leave your apartment. You figure you’re just being paranoid, but still, it’s uncomfortable. Almost as though you’re being watched. 

It’s disconcerting, but temporary, and by the time you arrive at work, or the grocery store, or the local bar to hang with friends, you’ve forgotten all about it. 

And then the letters start. Letters sent to your apartment with no return address. They’re typed, even your address isn’t handwritten but rather stamped on. 

As though the anonymity wasn’t bad enough, the content of the letters had your anxiety spiking. The person was clearly unwell, and obsessed with you. Sentences like, “I need to have you,” and “you will be mine” are all too common in their writing. 

You bring the letters to the police and explain what your job is to give context of how this stalker probably found you. They say they’ll look into it, but there’s not much they can do. 

Disheartened, you try to protect yourself as much as you can. You get extra locks for your doors and windows, as well as install cameras to catch anyone who may get close to your home. It’s not much, but at least you can feel a bit safer when you’re at your apartment.

You tell Ian and Anthony as well as a couple other higher ups at Smosh to make them aware of the situation. They ask if you want to take a step back from appearing in videos for the time being, but you want to continue on like usual. Whoever this person is, you refuse to let them force you to change things about your life. 

The letters continue, roughly one a week for a few months. You bring all of them to the police, trying to help get to the bottom of this, but you have nothing else to go on. 

Then one day as you leave for work, you have that feeling of being watched once again. You scan the area and notice a person sitting on a bench in the park across the street. Which wouldn’t be weird, except this man seems to be looking directly at you. It could be a coincidence, but something has you feeling like it may be something more sinister. You take out your phone and try to discreetly take a video of this person. 

You debate over sending the video to the police officer you’ve been in contact with, but since the person isn’t doing anything obviously nefarious, it would probably be a waste of everyone’s time. You do show it to Ian when you get to the office. You’re not sure why you share it, maybe you want him to validate you that it’s weird, or maybe you want him to tell you it’s totally normal and everything is fine. 

What you don’t realize is that it isn’t just you and Ian in the kitchen, but that Spencer has overheard the conversation as well. 

“Wait, what’s going on?” he says, walking over to you, a confused look on his face.

“I, uhm, well I kind of seem to have a stalker,” you state.

“Oh my god. Are you okay? Are you safe?” he asks worriedly.

 “Yea. I mean, I think so. Mostly it’s just letters getting mailed to my house. But I’ve been having this weird feeling like I’m being watched. And there was this guy looking at me from the park this morning, but I think that’s just a coincidence.”

“Y/N, that’s-” he stands there at a loss for words. “That sounds dangerous, like bad news waiting to happen.”

“I’ve gone to the police,” you explain. “They have all the information I have. But there’s nothing they can do, at least not yet.”

“You mean not until something bad happens. I hate that.” 

“I’ve done everything I can to protect my home so I feel safe there. If I didn’t then I wouldn’t stay.”

“I’m glad to hear that. But if you ever don’t feel safe, you can come stay with me,” Spencer says.

“Or me,” Ian adds. 

“Thanks guys. I promise that if it gets worse then I’ll take one of you up on that offer.” 

It’s nice to know that they have your back, that you have places you can go if anything were to happen. Because while you try to stay positive, you can’t lie. You’re scared. You’re scared that whoever this person is will do something more serious. And as terrifying as that is, you’re less anxious knowing you have people you can turn to. 

More weeks pass, and the letters continue. You see the same man twice more at the park, taking videos each time. After the third, you do send all of them to the police, since there now seems to be a pattern. The officer you speak with assures you that they’re looking into it, trying to identify the man. She also asks you to call them if he shows up again.

The following Friday a group of your friends decide to hang at a local bar to celebrate the end of a long filming week. You have a drink, dance with some friends, and for a moment, you forget about your problems.

But the feeling of being watched comes back. This time it’s worse than ever, your skin prickling with anxiety. Scanning the room, you notice a man whose eyes are locked on you. He looks vaguely familiar, but you can’t place where you might know him from.

Brushing it off, you go up to the bar to order another drink. It’s a busy night, and the bar is crowded so it takes a few minutes for you to get served. You scan the room, trying to find that guy again but you’ve lost him amongst the sea of people. 

When you look back at the bar your cocktail is waiting for you so you place down your cash, grab your drink, and head back to your friends. You dance with them again, taking sips of your drink and just letting loose.

After a little while you start to feel a bit dizzy and figure that the cocktail must be pretty strong. You slow down, drinking less and trying to take deep breaths to combat the lightheadedness. It doesn’t seem to be helping, and you start to feel a bit nauseous, so you excuse yourself to the bathroom. 

You walk to the hallway on unsteady legs, and miraculously are able to use the restroom. You slowly wash your hands, concentrating deeply on the task. 

On your way back to your friends you get confused, taking a wrong turn and going down the wrong hallway. It’s dark back here, and if you were more coherent you’d realize that customers aren’t supposed to be here, and the only door leads to a storage room. 

Turning around you find that you’re suddenly not alone. A tall man is there smiling at you. It’s not someone you recognize but you have a vague sense that you should know him. He steps closer and you start to feel anxious, not liking the situation you’ve found yourself in. 

“Excuse me,” you try to say, but your mouth feels almost numb, and you’re not sure the words actually came out. 

“I’m glad I found you Y/N,” he says. You stare at him, trying to figure out how you know him. “It’s time to get going, sweetheart.”

He starts to lead you away and you follow, unable to come up with a reason to stay. The music gets louder, lights are flashing in your eyes, and you’re becoming more and more disoriented. 

The next thing you know, a group of your friends are frantically speaking to you, the man nowhere to be found. You desperately try to focus on any one thing, but it’s chaos all around you. Hands cup your face and you flinch before meeting the eyes of the person who placed them there so gently. 

“Spencer?” you ask, needing confirmation that your muddled mind has at least one thing correct.

“Yea, it’s Spencer,” he replies as he moves his hands off of you, relieved that he now has your attention. “Can you tell me what happened?”

You shake your head no.

“Do you know who that man is?” Spencer asks.

Again you just shake your head.

You sway on your feet and Spencer quickly steps in and helps you sit on the floor. You lean your head back against the wall, but you find that makes the dizziness worse, so you rest it on your knees instead. You’re turned to look at Spencer, needing to focus on something safe right now. 

There’s more commotion, and you watch as Spencer speaks with a couple of people in uniform. He places a calming hand on your back and tries asking you more questions, but everything is too murky for you to understand.

You’re so drowsy, and you stop fighting your heavy eyelids, letting them close as the world around you finally goes quiet.

You’re not out for long, waking up a short while later in the ambulance. Spencer is still there, now holding onto your hand. 

At the hospital a lovely doctor checks you over to make sure you’re not injured. She takes blood and gives you some IV hydration. By the time you’re discharged, the world has stopped spinning and you’re able to understand and answer the questions you’re being asked. 

Two of the police officers come to the hospital to speak with you now that you’re more coherent, and you tell them about the man. One of the officers is the woman you’d been in contact with regarding the letters and the stranger at the park and she pulls up the pictures you had taken as well as a still from the security footage from the bar.

Your blood runs cold as you realize that it is absolutely the same person. Just a moment ago you were reeling from the fact that you had been roofied. And now you find out that it wasn’t just some random guy that did it, but instead one who has been stalking you for months. You weren’t drugged on some whim. This had to have been planned, thought out for who knows how long. 

You keep it together until the police officers leave and then you turn to Spencer, eyes wide and filling with tears.

After taking a deep breath you say, “Thank you so much for finding me. I can’t imagine what he would have done if you hadn’t come looking for me.”

“I would never have been able to forgive myself if anything happened to you,” is his reply. 

You can’t think of anything to say in reply, so you choose to lean into his side instead. He wraps an arm around you, and it might be your imagination, but you think you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head. 

“C’mon. The guys dropped my car off, let’s get you home,” Spencer says. 

“No!” You quickly shout. “He knows where I live. He’ll find me there.”

“Y/N, they have him down at the police station. But I actually didn’t mean your home. I meant mine, if you’re alright with that.”

“Oh. Yes, please, I’m good with that.”

Spencer keeps his arm around your waist as he leads you out of the hospital and to his car in the nearby lot. He opens the passenger door and pulls out a sweatshirt. He helps you pull it over your head before you sit in the seat. You struggle a moment with the seatbelt, and he leans in to click it for you. It’s embarrassing, him having to do all of this because you’re still so shaky, but he doesn’t see it that way. 

He talks the whole way to his place, and you’re grateful for the random stories that fill the silence. It keeps your mind from slipping into the dark fearful thoughts that keep trying to pop up.

Once at his apartment he asks if you want to take a shower or get some sleep. 

“Shower first, if that’s okay?” you answer.

“Of course it’s okay. Whatever you need,” he replies. “I’ll get some breakfast ready as well. Anything particular you want?”

Your stomach is still unsettled so you ask if it’s possible to just have toast.

“I think I can handle toast,” he says with a smile, causing you to giggle. “I’ll make you a smoothie too, how does that sound?”

“Perfect.” 

Spencer leads you to the bathroom where he starts the shower and shows you how to change the temperature of the water. He steps out for a moment and comes back with a stack of clean clothes for you to wear.

“I’ll be right down the hall if you need anything,” he says before he leaves the room.

You shower as quickly as you can, wanting to get back to Spencer. Being alone is the last thing you want right now, but you also need to wash last night off of you so you can feel clean.

It feels amazing to slip into Spencer’s cozy sweats, his old, worn t-shirt, and soft hoodie. 

He’s in the kitchen and you watch as he butters toast and pours the smoothie into two cups. Breakfast is quiet as you focus on eating slowly so as to not upset your stomach. You finish as much as you can before the exhaustion really sets in. 

“C’mon, you need to sleep,” he says. The polite part of you wants to help clear the dishes as a thank you, but he’s right. You can barely stay upright on the way to his room. He closes the blinds and tucks you in, and you fall asleep almost immediately. 

You’re not sure how long you sleep before a nightmare has you jolting awake, screaming. 

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asks as he runs into the room. 

He sits on the bed beside you and you try to explain the dream you’d just had in which Spencer hadn’t saved the day and you’d ended up with that man. But as you go to speak nothing comes out except a shattered sob. 

Without hesitation he pulls you to him and holds you close. He gently rocks you as he tells you, “You’re safe, you got away, he can’t get you,” over and over until the message sinks in. 

You don’t say anything, but slowly your tears fade away and your eyes start to feel heavy once again. You want to lay back down and rest some more, but you don’t want Spencer to leave again.

“Stay. Please.” 

It’s all you get out before you fall back to sleep. 

You wake up hours later with Spencer still holding you, and for the first time in months, you know that you’re safe, and that everything is going to be okay.

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

AN: Thank you for reading! I only have one or two more Spencer story ideas so lmk if you have any requests!

[insert-cat-meme]

Followed

First fic here. Hope this isn’t one of those things I will scold myself later for being “cringy” or something like that.

Warnings: stalking, paranoia, break ins, manipulation, overall unhealthy behaviour

Yandere! Chrollo x Reader

Word count: 2215

Reading below this point means you agree to the above mentioned warnings.

At this point, you wondered if your stalker wanted you to notice them.

Things had been like this for about a month now. It started with a shadow peeking into your room through your window. Thankfully, you had not been in a state of undress, but the fact alone made you clutch your blanket a bit tighter for many nights to come.

There had been flowers delivered to your door without any indication about who could have sent them. When you asked the nice lady living in the apartment across the hall, she could only tell you that some postal service had delivered them.

She gave you cake that evening, a gesture at least somewhat comforting for you.

Other incidents started to pile up as well. Your mailbox slightly ajar even though you were sure you had closed it properly the day before.

What finally broke the last straw was the note on your fridge. Walking one day into your kitchen, you learned how much terror could be conveyed through a small piece of paper.

The dreadful sinking of a stone in your stomach at the supposedly nice message, “Make sure you eat something healthy. You have been ordering a lot of take out the last few days.” had almost been a completely new feeling at its intensity.

Immediately you had filed the number of the police but after the two officers could not find anything other than the note, they informed you that they could not do anything. There were no broken locks, all windows closed neatly and not a single thing of your possessions had been stolen.

On that day you ordered a locksmith to instal a new lock in your door and additional ones to your windows.

It was understandable, really. The police could only help you in the boundaries of the law but it almost felt like you had been cheated out of your security.

For a moment you contemplated moving out of Yorknew again, back to the place you had grown up but you had no financial means for that. This city was expensive and where were you supposed to find work?

So you just had to bite your tongue and hope to stumble upon a solution somewhere along the way.

Clutching your bag a bit closer to your chest, you stepped out of the train into the dirty station of your neighbourhood. One of the three walls of the small house meant to offer protection from the elements was covered in plastic. Apparently someone had broken the glass, leaving a gaping space behind.

Keeping one hand in the pocket of your jacket, you made your way down the street. You envied the people who could afford to live in the central area. By no means was your flat a bad one. At worst it’s environment was caked in dirt, the city not caring to clean the areas most tourists wouldn’t stumble upon but the way to work and back home was a long one.

Feeling around, you felt th pepper spray bump against your hand. You were aware that it was more for reassurance than actual protection. If you were to ever confront whoever was watching you, you were to most likely freeze up in fear.

Reaching into your bag with your other hand, you started to search for your keys. The door of the place you had. once considered safe was now almost in sight. Only a few weeks ago you would have been jumping from joy mentally at the thought of being able to finally relax but now you couldn’t even do that anymore.

Just as you were finally able to pull out the jingling bundle of metal, you saw someone standing in front of the door to your apartment complex.

Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to continue to walk. There was no reason to assume that this was your stalker, your nightmares personified, one of the faces staring down on you in your darkest dreams.

Growing taller and taller in the horizon you took not of their black shirt, it clinging to their slim frame and the bandanna covering their forehead. Letting out a sigh of relief, you felt a slight sting as the hand that had curled around your keys started to relax, visible imprints left behind by them. Raising the hand holding onto them, you called out to him.

Chrollo had been a friend of yours for a while now. What had been a run in with someone looking for directions had blossomed into a friendship. He was almost too good to be friends with you. You usually imagined those incredibly book-smart type of people to look down on ordinary workers like you but instead, the ravenette had been nothing else but kind to you.

The only less than optimal thing about your friendship was that he was only in Yorknew for work but hey, that was what phones were made for, right?

Coming to a halt in front of him, you took in the slight disheveled look of his hair, his clothing seemingly comfortable yet still indicating that he had just arrived, small stains of barely visible liquid clinging to the hem of his shirt.

You knew it had been raining just this noon so he couldn’t have been here for too long considering that he also needed to settle in somewhere (or at least you hoped so).

The dim light of the sunset threw a soft glow across his black strands and for a moment you wanted to run your fingers along them. They had to be soft.

Thankfully, the other one of the two brain cells in your head shot that thought down immediately and instead decided to greet him.

After fighting with the lick for a few seconds, you opened up the door, leading him up the stairs to your flat whilst hoping and desperately praying to whatever higher power willing to hear you out, that you had cleaned up so that your home would look at least somewhat close to tidy.

When the two of you finally reached your door, you had to suppress a sigh. Another bundle of flowers sat in front of your door. The tranquil beauty and the fear they created within you was almost ironic.

No, it was ironic. Why were a pile of plant cells kept alive by photosynthesis capable of striking you with such terror?

Although, the first time was definitely more frightening but the more it happened, the more you started to just simply accept them. Humans, adaptability and all of that.

Picking them up whilst trying to hide your trembling hands, you tried to ignore the inquisitive look Chrollo was throwing at you. He must have noticed that something was wrong considering the slight look of worry ghosting over his face.

Finally opening the door to your destination, you ushered the male inside. Whatever you had begged just minutes ago must have heard you; there was barely and mess.

After sitting your guest down on your couch, you excused yourself into the kitchen under the pretense of preparing something to drink for him. The pile of greens you had disposed of continued to grow this evening as well.

Not wanting to leave Chrollo all alone in your living room, you hurried up and filled two glasses of water. If you had more time you would have offered something more fancy but you didn’t want to test his patience any longer.

Returning back to him, you saw that he had lifted the cover of a book lying on the coffee table. You had grabbed it on one of your grocery trips, throwing it inside of your cart in hopes of getting some sort of entertainment from it.

If you had known that Corollo of all people would be visiting, you would have thrown the thing out immediately considering that it was some cheap romance cliché.

Clearing your throat, you hoped that he didn’t notice the heat travelling up your neck. Letting go of it, he turned his full attention on you. “Secret admirer?”

His tone was teasing, a small smile tugging at the sides of his mouth. Yet there was also something else. Instead of two teasing orbs laughing in unison with his facial expression, there were only two gaping holes filled with the endlessness of an abyss.

Laughing, you tried to ease the tension whilst sitting down on the other end of the couch. You were thankful for the warm light filtering through the window. Otherwise, you might have mistaken your friend for being angry.

Perhaps he was angry? God, why were you so bad at figuring stuff like this out?

Starting to play with the loose thread of one of the cushions leaning against the backrest, you started to carefully approach the subject like someone might approach a snake hissing aggressively at them. “… I think, no I know, I am being followed.”

Looking up to him once more, you expected something like outrage. No, that was wrong. You didn’t know Chrollo that long but you knew that it took a lot more to make him act in any hasty way. Such an emotion like outrage was reserved for cases like someone murdering someone close to him.

That didn’t mean there was no response to your words though. Slowly, he turned his head sideways, his eyes drifting slightly to the left. “If you wouldn’t mind, could you elaborate?”

Taking a deep breath in, you tried to force yourself to stay calm at the memories emerging whenever you had to deal with your stalker. “Those flowers…”

Hearing your voice break, the black haired male nodded in understanding. “A stalker then… I see.”

His gaze continued to focus slightly left to your head. “That must have been frightening.”

This time, it was your turn to nod. You felt guilty for telling him this whole mess you had found yourself. Someone as kind as him shouldn’t be burdened with your problems.

“But, oh well, what else to do…” Laughing once more, you tried to change the subject. “How has work been?”

Snapping his head back into your direction, his eyes stared back into your own but unlike the last time, they didn’t feel like two nails hammering you into your seat but instead like a warm drink during a cold day. The comfort of returning home after a long day.

“Nothing new really. Like always we did what we came there to do.” At least he was doing well.

You really did have a knack for getting yourself into trouble. First you had attracted his and then the attention of someone else. Well, he couldn’t blame you for that last one. Not really.

The Hunter had been so blatantly obvious with his tailing that the leader of the Phantom Troupe had to keep himself from looking out of the window the entire time.

Not like ignoring someone so obnoxious was a challenge but whenever he thought back to the moment he had discovered the young man following you around about three weeks ago, he contemplated on using one of his nen abilities on him.

Although, perhaps he should have been thankful considering Chrollo had been watching you almost a year before approaching you under the excuse of asking for directions. When he found out that there was another one observing you, he had finally been able to give you small gifts. One of them being the flowers you had just thrown out so ungraciously. The note, a product of him being more often around than you would ever be able to guess.

If they messed up with such a simple thing like closing a mail box properly and being discovered from time to time, who was he to blame?

Perhaps the two of them weren’t that different considering that only the end objective was the difference between him and your little shadow.

Digging deeper, he had discovered that the Hunter was a new one, desperate to prove himself and had somehow found out that you were in contact with Chrollo.

He needed to tie that loose end. Fast.

But for now he would enjoy this. You had grown to trust him so nicely. It was the right choice to study which behaviours you liked the most in people.

Should he tell you that he was having a vacation and planing to spend it close to you? It was not like he was lying. Most of his life outside of heists could be considered vacation. You did seem to like the innocent facade he put up for you. Growing closer to you in more intimate ways shouldn’t be too hard.

You were a bit naive. Not stupid. No, you were like most ordinary citizens. If you were that he would have dropped you the second he came to that conclusion but for some reason he just couldn’t let you be.

Just as you were about to tell him about something that happened last week, leaning over to pick up one of the glasses, he saw the man shadowing you peek into the room, his gaze meeting his own.

Yes, perhaps it was time to get rid of him. It had been fun to play around but this was starting to get annoying.

[hanniewho]

I loved your Mikey headcanons, Can you write your Gerard headcanons? You can write anything from sfw to dead dove

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Notes: I have so many things to yap about this skrunkly pookie wookie cookie of a man. And stalker gee would be so perfect omgomgmg

༘ ⋆｡ ˚ Warnings: Noncon, Panty sniffing, Masturbating, Privacy invasion, Corruption kink, Mention of piss, Blood and literally disgusting shit (I do not condone any of this behavior in real life so don't do it it's not cool and it's not hot!)

⋆✦ Pairings: Stalker! Gerard x Underage virgin fem reader

۫ ꣑ৎ DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

𝜗𝜚˚⋆SFW

The first time he saw you was one of the tour they're having, and you're in the front row with your mum and the closest to the stage.

You look so happy and smiling widely to him it made him almost forgot that's he's singing.

He feels so disgusted of himself for crushing on you, a high schooler, and not even legal yet, but he can't help it. You're so gorgeous and look so innocent he just wanna ruin you.

He would leave you flowers and gifts everyday with a note on it "Keep going you're great!" "Have some treat you're the best♡" "Even with all of these flowers none of them can show how much I love you :)"

You're wondering where these are coming from and who sends them. It's sweet and adorable but you're freaking out.

You don't even feel safe at home anymore because you feel like you're being watched, so you go to school even more often even though you hated it but it's better than staying home.

You feel your anxiety grew each week, and you talk about it to your friends. All of them are concerned for you.

And when you're at home you rarely came out of your room anymore.

You made sure all the windows are covered in curtains and locked, but of course, he found a way to break in he just loves you so much.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ NSFW

He would take so many pictures of you just to touch himself right after it he can't help himself.

He will break into your room just to kneel next to your bed and admire how pretty you are. And in the morning you wonder why your thighs always ended up with sticky load.

Your panties always go missing, too and here he is sniffing someone's panties and playing his rock hard cock.

He just love you so so much that he can't help himself but to dream to fuck you so good.

He always imagine how tight your pussy is since he knows everything about you.

He knows you're a virgin, and it turns him on even more he just wanna ruin your cute pussy and make you his!

You jolted awake to a pounding, your heart racing. At first, you thought it was the bass from your neighbor's stereo, but it was something more... personal. You lay in your small, dimly-lit room, the only source of light the flickering street lamp outside your window, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The mattress beneath you protested with every thrust, and the headboard thudded rhythmically against the wall. Panic set in as you realized the pounding was coming from inside you. You were being violated, your tight, virgin body being used against your will.

The pain was sharp, like a knife slicing through the tender barrier of your innocence. You tried to scream, but a rough hand clamped over your mouth, stifling the sound. You tasted the metallic tang of fear as you bit down on your lip, trying to hold back the tears. Your eyes searched the room frantically, but all you could make out was the dark figure hovering above you, his identity obscured by the shadows. His breath was hot and ragged, a stark contrast to the cool air in the room, and you felt his body weight pressing you down into the mattress.

He leaned closer, his grunts becoming more feral with every thrust. The smell of him, musky and unwelcome, filled your nostrils as he whispered into your ear, "You're tighter than I imagined." His words were a dark revelation, confirming the horror of what was happening. The hand over your mouth moved to grip your neck, his thumb tracing the pulse point, as if he were fascinated by the throb of your terror. "You're like killing me," he groaned, his voice a sinister rasp, "squeezing my cock like that." His eyes gleamed in the dim light, a sick, twisted pleasure etched into his features as he took in your wide-eyed, horrified gaze.

You couldn't help but moan into his hand, the pain morphing into a confusing mix of agony and arousal. The person you called your hero, your celebrity crush, was fucking you in the sacred sanctity of your own room, your parents' house a prison keeping you trapped with this monster. You felt a tear slip down your cheek, only to be lost in the pillow beneath you, as your body began to betray you. Your hips moved of their own accord, desperately seeking some semblance of comfort in the unyielding assault, and your walls clenched around him, a reflexive response to the intrusion.

Leaning down, he whispered into your ear, "Relax, okay?" His voice was soothing, a stark contrast to the violence of his actions. "It won't hurt so much if you just let go." His breath was warm and minty, and you realized with a start that he had been watching you, learning your routines, memorizing your scent, all while planning this twisted rendezvous. His teeth grazed the tender skin of your neck, and you felt a pinch as his fangs pierced your flesh. The pain was immediate and sharp, but it was soon overwhelmed by a rush of heat and pleasure that flooded your body. You were being turned on against your will, your traitorous body responding to the bite of the man who had been stalking you.

As he bit deeper, you felt your muscles relaxing, a strange lethargy seeping into your limbs. His hand around your neck tightened, and his thumb caressed your pulse as it raced under his touch. His eyes held yours, the gleam in them now one of power and satisfaction as he watched the fear slowly recede. You couldn't fight anymore; you were his to do with as he pleased. He began to move in earnest, his hips pistoning into you with a force that made the bed frame creak in protest. Each thrust sent waves of conflicting sensations through you: pain, pleasure, disgust, and a sick, twisted need for more.

"Fuck, you're so good," he grunted, his breath hot and ragged in your ear. His cock was thick and merciless, stretching you to the brink of what you could bear. His words were a taunt, a declaration of his victory over your will. "You're going to take all of me, aren't you?" His hand left your neck, instead reaching down to cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of resistance, any spark of defiance. But all he saw was a dull acceptance, a silent plea for it to be over.

He slammed into you again, his hips punishing your vulnerable form. "You want that, don't you?" His voice was a mix of lust and malice. "You want to be filled with my kids." His words were a violation in themselves, a perversion of the innocent crush you had once held for him. You felt your stomach clench at the thought, but your body responded, your walls contracting around him in an involuntary invitation for more. "Say it," he demanded, his voice now a growl. "Tell me how much you want it."

You shake your head 'no- please don't i-', your voice muffled by his palm, but he only laughed, the sound echoing through the room, sending shivers down your spine. "Oh, I know you do," he whispered, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic delight. "Your body's singing it for me." His thumb traced the outline of your lip, smearing your own blood onto your skin. "Say it," he repeated, his voice a seductive command that seemed to resonate in your very bones.

The struggle within you was visceral, a war between the primal instinct to survive and the uncontrollable desire that his bite had kindled. Each thrust brought you closer to the precipice of pleasure and pain, and you felt your resolve crumbling. "I-I don't," you managed to choke out, your voice trembling.

He leaned in closer, his eyes burning into yours. "Say it," he whispered, his voice a seductive purr. "Say you want it." His thumb slid over your lip, the coppery taste of your own blood a stark reminder of the power he held over you.

You felt his tongue, warm and wet, trace the line of your neck. His breath hitched as he took in your scent, his pupils dilating with arousal. "I saw how you looked at me that day," he murmured, his voice a low, dark rumble. "Your eyes, it's like you're looking at me like I saved your life." His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of disgust and a perverse thrill that made your stomach churn.

His licks grew more insistent, his tongue circling the bite marks like a vulture over fresh kill. Each pass sent a jolt of sensation through your body, and you couldn't help the small whimpers that escaped your lips. The pleasure was wrong, a twisted mockery of what it should be, but it was there, undeniable and intoxicating. His hand moved from your chin to your throat, squeezing gently, reminding you of the power he had over your life. "Look at me," he demanded, his voice a whispered snarl.

You met his gaze, those piercing eyes that had once held so much hope and admiration now filled with a dark, possessive hunger. "Tell me," he said, his voice thick with desire, "tell me how much you want me to fill you with my cum." The words were a slap in the face, but your body responded with a betraying throb, your arousal growing with each twisted second that ticked by. You felt your cheeks flush with shame and anger, but the fight in you was waning.

With a snarl, he grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and exposing your throat. His teeth sank into your flesh again, this time with a ferocity that made you gasp. The pain was intense, but it was quickly drowned out by the flood of pleasure that followed, as if your body had been rewired to crave his bite. He began to fuck you harder, his hips slapping against your thighs with a wet, obscene sound. His hand moved to your chest, his long, cold fingers playing with your nipples, rolling and pinching until you moaned into his palm.

You couldn't believe what was happening. The person you had once adored, the one whose posters lined your walls, was now the monster that owned your body. And yet, the pleasure was undeniable, a sick, twisted dance of pain and ecstasy that made you feel so alive yet so dirty. Your not fully developed breasts bounced with each thrust, and you could feel the ache deep within you, the pressure building, threatening to shatter the last of your resolve. You cursed your parents for being out of town, leaving you at the mercy of this madman who had invaded your sanctuary.

As you felt his fingers tease and pinch your sensitive nipples, you bit down on your bottom lip, the sting of pain mixing with the sensation of his teeth in your neck. It was as if your body was torn between the need to scream for help and the betraying pleasure that coursed through your veins with every twisted caress. You could feel his excitement growing, his movements becoming more frantic, and you knew he was close to his release. Your eyes squeezed shut, trying to block out the reality of his possession, trying to find a shred of dignity in the dark corners of your mind.

The curses you silently whispered to your parents grew louder in your head with every thrust, your anger a fiery beacon in the sea of fear and despair. They had always been so overprotective, so concerned about who you talked to, who you saw, what you did. Yet, here you were, in the most vulnerable moment of your life, and they were nowhere to be found. The irony was a bitter pill to swallow, making the situation feel even more like a nightmare you couldn't wake from.

As the pressure within you grew, so did the intensity of his bites, his teeth digging deeper into your tender flesh, his hands now a vice around your throat and the small mounds of your chest. You could feel his hunger, his need to claim you fully, to make you his in the most primal way possible. Each pinch of your nipples sent a jolt of pain-laced pleasure through your body, making your toes curl and your back arch involuntarily. Your breaths came out in ragged gasps, muffled by the hand that still covered your mouth.

His laugh was a low, guttural sound that vibrated against your skin, sending goosebumps down your spine. "Oh fuck," he groaned, "you're clenching around me like a vise, baby. You need to stop that, it's killing my dick." His words were a twisted mix of pain and pleasure, the kind that made your stomach drop and your pussy clench around him even tighter. His hips rocked into you with renewed vigor, the slap of skin on skin echoing in the quiet room.

The pressure within you built to a crescendo, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of an orgasm you never wanted, never asked for. His eyes bore into yours, the hunger in them unmistakable as he whispered, "You're going to come for me, aren't you?" It was a question that didn't need an answer; his cock was a living testament to your body's response to his violent ministrations.

His hand trailed down from your throat, over your chest, and paused at the bulge of your stomach. He pushed into the soft flesh, the feeling of his hand so alien, so wrong, and yet your body responded with a betraying shiver of excitement. The reality of his invasion was stark, a physical manifestation of the deep, dark secret that was now lodged within you. He grinned, his teeth stained with your blood, and you realized with a jolt of horror that he was watching the signs of his own pleasure reflected in your eyes.

"Look at that," he murmured, his voice a dark caress that sent a shiver down your spine. "You're so full of me." His fingers circled the swollen flesh of your abdomen, pressing down as he thrust into you, emphasizing the depth of his penetration. The feeling was overwhelming, a mix of revulsion and a perverse thrill that had you biting down harder on the hand muffling your screams. You could feel the head of his cock nudging against your cervix with every plunge, the sensation both terrifying and exhilarating.

His eyes never left yours, watching with a twisted fascination as you squirmed beneath him. "You're going to take it all," he breathed, his voice thick with lust. "You're going to take every drop of my cum, and you're going to beg for more." His hand on your stomach grew more insistent, his nails digging in slightly, a reminder of the power he held over you. You felt the first tremors of an orgasm you never wanted, your body's natural response to the relentless pounding that was driving you closer to the edge.

Your eyes searched his, pleading, but all you saw was the monster that lurked beneath the surface. His hand moved lower, his thumb circling your clit with a practiced ease that made you feel even more violated. He knew exactly what he was doing, how to make your body respond even as your mind recoiled in horror. The pressure grew unbearable, and you knew you were going to break. "Please," you whispered, your voice a trembling mess. "Please stop." But the words were lost in the cacophony of your own moans and his grunts of pleasure.

His eyes narrowed, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "You're going to come for me, aren't you?" His thumb pressed down harder, and you felt your body tighten around him. "You're going to scream my name when I fill you up." The thought of giving him what he wanted was unbearable, but the sensation was too intense to ignore. You bit down on the hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds that were threatening to escape. "I feel like I'm gonna pee," you sobbed, your voice muffled and pathetic.

Gerard chuckled darkly, his teeth still buried in your neck. "That's it," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You're gonna come for me, baby." His hips bucked faster, his cock slamming into you with a ferocity that was both terrifying and exhilarating. You felt a warm rush building, the pressure in your lower belly becoming unbearable. It was as if your body was being torn apart by the force of his lust and your own unwanted response.

You couldn't stop the moan that escaped, your body arching off the bed despite your attempts to hold back. The pleasure was like a wildfire, consuming you, turning your fear and anger into something darker, something that made you feel alive in the most twisted way possible. His eyes never left yours, his smile widening as he watched you fall apart beneath him. "That's it," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. "Let go for me."

And then, with a final, brutal thrust, you did. The orgasm ripped through you, tearing apart the last shreds of your dignity. Your walls spasmed around his cock, milking him, and you felt him tense, his hips jerking as he emptied himself into you. His bite grew deeper, and you felt a warmth spread from the puncture wounds, a strange feeling that was both soothing and terrifying. His cum filled you, a thick, hot presence that made your stomach churn with a mix of pleasure and disgust. You were his now, in the most intimate way possible, and there was no going back.

Tears streamed down your face as he pulled away, his eyes still gleaming with triumph. He licked the blood from his teeth with a satisfied smack, a grin spreading across his face like a dark shadow. "See?" he murmured, his voice a dark purr. "It's not so bad, is it?" He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "You liked it, didn't you?" His hand slid down your body, coming to rest on the sticky mess between your legs, his fingers coated in your blood and his cum. "You're going to want more," he promised, his voice dripping with a sinister anticipation.

The sobs that tore from your throat were a mix of pain and anger, a visceral rejection of his claim. "No," you slurred out, your voice thick with tears and fear. "Fuck no." But even as you denied it, your traitorous body was still quivering with the aftershocks of your unwanted orgasm, the muscles of your pussy clenching around the emptiness he had left behind. You felt dirty, used, and utterly destroyed. The taste of your own blood in your mouth was a stark reminder of the reality of the situation.

He pulled out of you with a wet pop, the absence of his thick cock leaving you feeling both relieved and violated. He leaned over, his smile wide and predatory, and pushed your leg over his shoulder. The gesture was almost gentle, a stark contrast to the violence that had just occurred. "Aww, you're clenching around nothing," he cooed, his voice a twisted parody of affection. "That's so cute." His thumb traced over your swollen clit, and you couldn't help the involuntary jerk of your hips, the sensitivity of your overstimulated flesh making you shiver.

The room spun around you, the smell of sex and fear thick in the air. You felt his eyes on you, watching you with a mix of curiosity and hunger. It was as if he were studying you, cataloging your every reaction for some twisted, future encounter. "You're so responsive," he murmured, his voice a low purr that sent a shiver down your spine. "I can't wait to see what else I can get you to do." His fingers slid back inside you, coated in your juices and his own seed, and you whimpered, your body betraying you with a shudder of pleasure.

He began to pump his fingers in and out, his thumb rubbing slow circles around your clit. Your body responded despite the horror of the situation, your walls clenching around his intrusion. The sensation was too much, a blend of pain and pleasure that you couldn't escape. His eyes never left yours, a silent challenge that made your stomach twist. "You want more," he whispered, his breath hot against your cheek. "You can't help it."

You felt yourself trembling, your muscles tightening around his fingers as he worked you expertly. Your mind screamed for it to stop, but your body was a traitor, responding to his touch like it was a lifeline. He leaned in closer, his mouth grazing your ear as he murmured, "Just say it. Tell me how much you want me to fill you up again." The words were a dark seduction, a siren's call that your body was powerless to resist.

With each word, his grip on your neck loosened slightly, his thumb tracing gentle patterns along your jawline. His breath was sweet, a stark contrast to the metallic taste of your own blood. "Let me love you," he whispered, his voice a velvet caress that made your skin crawl and your stomach churn. "Let me give you everything you've ever dreamed of." His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, and you felt your mouth open slightly, his words a drug that clouded your judgment.

Your mind reeled with the promise of escape, of a life free from the pain and fear that now suffocated you. You wanted to believe him, to give in to the dark allure of his words. But deep down, you knew it was a lie. He was a predator, a monster masquerading as a savior. "Anything," he murmured, his eyes searching yours, "just tell me what you want, and it's yours." The weight of his body was a constant reminder of his power, his fingers still moving inside you with a disturbing gentleness.

You searched for something, anything to cling to, a way out of the horror that had become your reality. And in that moment, a spark of defiance flickered to life. "Get out," you whispered, your voice hoarse from screaming into his hand. "Leave me alone." The words were a whispered challenge, a declaration of your refusal to be his plaything.

He paused, his eyes narrowing, his thumb still circling your clit. "What did you say?" His voice was deceptively calm, a serpent coiled and ready to strike. But you felt a shift in the air, a hint of doubt in his touch. You knew you had to be careful, to play the part of the victim while searching for a way to fight back.

"Please," you whimpered, forcing a tremble into your voice, "please don't do this." Your eyes searched his, trying to find a shred of humanity in the monster that held you captive. His hand stilled, and for a moment, you thought you'd convinced him. But then his smile grew, a chilling twist of his lips that sent a cold shiver down your spine.

"You're so convincing," he said, his voice low and mocking. "But we both know the truth, don't we?" He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your face. "Your body tells me everything I need to know." His hand around your neck tightened, a silent warning not to challenge him. His thumb slid back to your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your breath hitch.

You felt a flicker of anger, a small flame of rebellion that grew with each sickening stroke. "No," you choked out, your voice a hoarse whisper. "It's not what I want." But even as you denied it, your body was betraying you again, your pussy clenching around his fingers. The pleasure was a living lie, a mockery of everything you felt for him before this night.

Gerard leaned in closer, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Oh, but it is," he murmured, his voice a dark symphony of temptation. "You can't lie to me, not like this." His words were a taunt, a declaration of his victory over your will. You felt his breath on your neck as he took in your scent, his fangs scraping against your skin. The anticipation was a knife's edge, cutting through the fog of fear and pain.

You swallowed hard, your eyes searching the room for anything that could serve as a weapon. But it was a futile effort; he had chosen his hunting ground well. The room was empty, stripped of anything that could help you. The only sounds were the ragged gasps of your own breath and the wet, obscene noises of his fingers moving in and out of you. You could feel his cock, still hard and demanding, pressing against your inner thigh. The thought of him taking you again was almost too much to bear.

With a snarl, you reached down and grabbed his wrist, trying to pull his hand away from your pussy. He laughed, the sound a chilling counterpoint to the seriousness of the situation. "So feisty," he said, his grip tightening around your throat. "But it's too late for that." His thumb continued to circle your clit, and you bit back a whimper of pleasure.

He leaned in, peppering your face with wet, open-mouthed kisses. "How about you be a good girl and just take my cock, yeah?" he murmured, his voice a seductive hiss that made your skin crawl. His other hand reached up to fondle your underdeveloped breast, his cold, claw-like fingers pinching your tender nipple. The sensation was a mix of pain and arousal that had you writhing beneath him, hating yourself for the response your body couldn't help but give.

With a grin, he flipped you onto your stomach, your face buried in the pillows. The fabric muffled your cries as he pushed your legs apart, his body looming over you like a dark specter. "Don't go stiff," he warned, his voice a harsh whisper, "it'll hurt." The reality of his words sank in, and you forced yourself to relax, your body trembling with fear and revulsion.

You felt the mattress shift as he positioned himself behind you, his cock, still slick with your blood and juices, pressing against your bruised entrance. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back as he entered you once more, the pillows muffling your screams. Each thrust was a painful reminder of his dominance, your body stretching to accommodate his thickness. The smell of him was everywhere, a heady mix of lust and power that made your stomach churn.

His balls slapped against your ass with each movement, the sensation a stark contrast to the coldness of his skin. Each time he buried himself to the hilt, you felt the heat of his body deep inside you, the reality of his invasion impossible to ignore. His breath was hot on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he whispered sweet nothings that curdled in your ears. "You're mine," he murmured, his voice a dark symphony of possession. "I own every part of you."

The bed frame groaned in protest, the springs squeaking with the force of his thrusts. You could feel the sticky mess of your combined fluids coating your thighs, a sticky reminder of his dominance. His hand moved up to your neck, his grip tightening as he began to fuck you harder, the pain bringing tears to your eyes. "Scream for me," he ordered, his voice a harsh command. "Let me hear how much you love it."

You bit down on the pillow, muffling your cries as best you could. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg, but your body was no longer your own. Each thrust sent waves of painful pleasure through you, a twisted symphony of agony and arousal that you couldn't ignore. His other hand slid down to your clit, his thumb pressing down with just the right amount of pressure to send sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours was a rhythmic beat in the quiet of the night, a morbid soundtrack to the horror playing out. You felt his cock swell even further inside you, the pressure building until it was almost unbearable. Your muscles tightened, preparing for the inevitable release. You clenched your eyes shut, willing it to stop, but it was as if your body had a mind of its own.

With a feral growl, he leaned down and bit into your shoulder, the pain sharp and sudden. Your muffled scream was lost in the fabric of the pillow as you felt him come, his hot seed filling you up. Your body responded in kind, betraying you once again with a powerful orgasm that had you bucking against him. He held you down, grunting with each spurt of his release, his teeth still embedded in your skin.

As the tremors of his climax subsided, he pulled out of you, his grip on your hair releasing. You collapsed onto the mattress, your body a trembling mess of pain and pleasure. The metallic taste of your own blood mingled with your tears as you lay there, panting and defeated. He rolled you onto your back, his eyes gleaming in the dim light as he licked the blood from your neck, his tongue hot and rough against your sensitive skin.

"Look at me," he demanded, his voice a low growl. You met his gaze, the defiance in your eyes replaced with a dull emptiness. He studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. "You're going to be a good girl for me, aren't you?" He whispered, his thumb tracing the fresh bite marks on your neck. "You're going to do everything I say."

You nodded weakly, the fight draining out of you. What was the point in resisting? Your body had already betrayed you once; it would surely do so again. He smirked, pleased with your response. "That's my girl," he said, his voice a dark caress that made your skin crawl. He leaned in and kissed you, his tongue forcing its way past your lips, tasting of your blood and his own saliva.

As he pulled away, you felt a strange warmth spread through your body, a sensation that was both soothing and terrifying. It was as if he were marking you from the inside out, leaving a part of himself in every inch of your being. Your eyes fluttered closed, unable to meet his gaze any longer. The weight of his body lifted from yours, and you heard the rustle of clothing as he dressed.

The sound of his belt buckling was a stark reminder of the reality of your situation. He was going to leave you here, used and discarded like a piece of trash. "Are you just going to leave me like that?" you managed to croak out, the words barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Gerard paused, his eyes flickering down to the mess between your legs before meeting yours again. "We're not done yet," he said, his voice a dark promise that sent a cold shiver down your spine. "But you need to rest, little one. I have big plans for you." He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I'll be watching you, always."

The room grew colder as he left, the door clicking shut with a finality that echoed through the silence. You lay there, your body still trembling with aftershocks of pain and unwanted pleasure. The smell of him lingered, a heady mix of cologne and sweat that made you want to retch. Your mind raced, trying to process the horror of what had just happened, the reality of your new life as his toy, his pet, his...lover?

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 11: Exhibitionism/Voyeurism - Winter Soldier

Summary: Home alone, you think it's safe to have some 'special time', but unbeknown to you, he's there, always watching and admiring.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dubious content, stalker!winter soldier, masturbation, sex toys, loneliness, exhibitionism, voyeurism

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Being the adoptive daughter of the infamous Alexander Pierce wasn’t always as exciting and full of potential danger as you’d expect. For the most part, you are confined to your heavily guarded home 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Despite being an adult and wanting to live your own life, your father deemed it too dangerous that you could be captured and used for ransom.

Throughout your life, you’d never even seen one second of action or risk, and some would say that just means your father has protected you to the best of his abilities. There is a point, however, where you need something exciting in your life even though there are only limited ways to get any thrill.

This usually occurred when you were home alone, like tonight. Bored out of your mind whilst watching the TV attached to the wall in the living room, your dad walked past, clicking a button on his phone before tying his show lace. Glancing at the time on your phone, you assumed he was going to work, considering it was so late; you knew better than to ask him what was wrong to demand his time.

Walking over, your dad briefly paused to lean down and kiss your forehead, pretending he cared, but there was nothing Alexander Pierce truly loved more than Hydra. He didn’t even need to say that he was leaving as your dad prepared to leave, assuming you had caught on to his gathering of stuff that he would be going, but before he could step out of the door, you shouted in his direction, “Am I expecting company tonight?”

Your Dad knew who you were referring to. The Winter Soldier. The assassin whom you’d met on numerous occasions tended to turn up unannounced to your home in search of your father to debrief or receive new orders, so you made sure to ask regarding his whereabouts so that you could be prepared for a midnight visit.

“No, he’s a couple of states away on a mission and not due to be back for another few days. I’ll lock up on my way out; don’t wait up for me”. Without another look or even an ‘I love you’, Alexander Pierce left out of the front door, and the sound of the shutters around the windows started to descend, and the thick locks on all doors clicked into place.

You were locked in, and as soon as the metal stopped creaking and you knew your dad’s car had driven off, you sighed in sweet relief at finally being home alone. It was almost like an automatic reaction for your body to become horny as soon as you were locked in, knowing that no one would interrupt and you had free reign to do whatever you pleased, which would always be masturbation.

Turning up the TV loud so you could hear it from your bedroom and not feel as alone, you changed your clothing to just an oversized shirt and nothing more, selecting which vibrator you wanted from the box beneath your bed. Today was going to be the purple bullet vibrator and then returned to the living room.

This was one of the only places where you could feel any sort of rebellion or thrill. Yes, you could and do masturbate in your bedroom just like anyone else would, but being able to do it in technically a public space gave you little bursts of adrenaline. If your father returned home, you’d be able to hear the security system unlocking, but it was also an area that was supposed to be where everyone gathered and had family time. This didn’t refer to your home, though, as you were the only person to use the living area as your father was either in his office, the gym or not home at all.

Lying down on the soft couch, your head nestling into the decorative pillow, you tried to focus your mind into the horny zone. The excitement you anticipated hit you in your gut as you lifted your shirt until it rested over your collarbones to reveal your nude body.

As the chilled breeze ghosted over your skin, it caused a ripple effect of goosebumps to shiver over you, nipples hardening, which sparked pleasure to build in your abdomen and moisture to slick at your entrance. Closing your eyes, your fingers teased over your breasts, imagining they were someone else's hands, exploring the fresh and finding where you were most sensitive.

Pinching your nipples gently, you released a soft sigh as another hand drifted down to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Biting your lip, your knees separated to allow your fingers to collect some of the juices that had leaked from your hole and then spread it over your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves in circles.

You were entirely in the zone, feeling increasingly more aroused with breathy moans and whimpers escaping your open mouth each second. This was your favourite place to be, hot and bothered, getting yourself off to feel your cunt pulsing around two of your fingers.

Then you were pressing the vibrator against your clit with two fingers delved into your warmth, curling and pressing on the spot that had your back arching and breaths hitching.

Everything was building, like an orchestra reaching its crescendo, approaching the peak of no return and complete euphoria. Then, the sensation rushed over you. Not the pleasant orgasmic blissful shiver but a haunting, the hairs standing on end over your arms and the back of your neck with unease. It felt like someone was watching you, but that wasn’t the case; the building was locked down, and the security cameras didn't point in this direction.

Your eyes opened on instinct, and fear, horror and dread pulsed through your stomach as you screamed, closing your legs and rushing to stand and cover your body with your shirt. Your knees buckled from the lasting effects of getting yourself off, but you clung to the arm of the couch whilst trying to turn off the vibrator.

It felt like your heart had moved to your throat, with the fear of throwing up and passing out at the same time taking over as you stared unblinking at the man currently sitting in the armchair next to the couch you’d been masturbating on. He was sitting as still as a statute, head to toe, in his tactical gear, even the mask.

“Soldier?” your voice reverberates off the walls you’ve shouted that loud. All it earned you was a tilt of his head to the side, but he didn’t say a single word, so you continued to shout, even though you knew you should have remained calm around someone as dangerous as him. “What the fuck are you doing here? You should have knocked or- something! How did you even get in here?!”

He simply sat there, staring at you with deep blue eyes, his long hair framing his face, his deadly hands resting on the arms of the chair, acting casually like he hadn’t just been sitting there as you feverishly masturbated naked in front of him. The more time passed, the worse your tremors became, almost like you were vibrating with anxiety.

It wasn’t uncommon for the Winter Soldier to not knock when he came to the house however usually your father was present or he’d been anticipated but for him to somehow get in when the house was on lockdown and not be expected, it had you on edge.

“Why didn’t you announce yourself, Soldier?” you tried to sound confident and not fearful, but your voice cracked on the last word, which gave away your anxiety. Your thoughts were going around and around in your head; how long had he been there? How did you not even hear him walking into the room?

The Assets head tilted to the other right, his eyes remaining focused only on your face as he finally began to talk in his low, drawled voice, “Why did you stop?”

Your eyes widened in shock briefly before trying to regain control, “What did you say?”

“You don’t usually stop. Why did you stop now?”

Your heart seemed to stop at this question. Swallowing the thick glob of spit in your mouth, you asked, “What do you mean usually? Have... have you seen me doing this before?”

He nods slowly, and you want to vomit immediately. Closing your eyes briefly, you tried to take a deep breath, hoping it would give you some composure. Maybe this was karma working her evil magic on you, you had decided, for having a kink with being caught, which is why you masturbated in the living room. Why on earth were you now upset when you’d actually been caught?

Sighing and rubbing both hands over your face, ignoring that they were still slightly wet from earlier, you tried to explain to the assassin, “You know, it’s not normal to watch people during intimate times like this. You’re supposed to announce yourself or something”.

“But you look at peace when you do it”, he says in the same emotionless voice. His words catch you off guard, but he continues, “You didn’t finish today like you usually do”.

The way he spoke about what you were doing, you weren’t even sure he knew what it was or the consequences of your actions. You knew his history, who he was and how they controlled him. Did he even know what sex was with all the times his mind had been wiped? He wasn’t acting like a creep, even if he had snuck in to watch you masturbate and clearly had watched it several times before. If he was going to hurt you, he would have done so by now, so tentatively, you sat back onto the couch, still pulling the bottom of your shirt lower over your legs and hiding the vibrator beneath your thigh.

“I didn’t finish like the other times because I didn’t know you were watching; it can make people uncomfortable knowing someone is watching them”.

“Does it make you uncomfortable that you know I’m watching?” his tone lowered with the question he was asking.

“Yes! I don’t want people to watch me do this, and what if my Dad finds out? What if you tell him what I’ve been doing?”

Bucky finally showed some emotion as he frowned in confusion, “Why would I tell your father about this? It has nothing to do with the mission? I like watching you because you seem to enjoy it; isn’t that a good thing?”

He seemed so innocent in his questioning. “Just so I’m getting this right, are you expecting me to continue?” The soldier nods yes in an answer as you release a long breath. “If I say no, will you kill me?” This time, he shakes his head, giving you the answer no, which did little to alleviate the nerves catapulting through you.

Standing up from the couch whilst clutching the vibrator, you rushed towards your bedroom, intending to hide the sex toy and lock yourself in so that you didn’t have to sit looking at the soldier anymore. However, as you stood before the door, you thought it over more. If he’d been watching you all of this time, then what’s the difference with him being here now? He could overpower you any time he wanted, and he didn't want any pleasure back; otherwise, he would have made advances before.

This whole situation came about because you liked the thought of being watched or caught, so why were you running away from that scenario? Having made up your mind, you returned to the living room, where the Soldier hadn’t moved even a strand of hair since you’d left in a hurry.

Sitting back on the couch, your eyes remained everywhere but on him. In fact, as you led back down, you closed your eyes with the hopes that not being able to see him would help to calm the pounding of your nervous heart.

Your nipples were still hard, so you pressed on them through your shirt with trembling fingers, not quite believing you were in this situation. The wetness from your earlier escapades was still evident over your thighs, which you sept firmly closed. Biting your lower lip until it hurt, you kept stimulating your nipples by rubbing the peaks around in circles before pinching them to elicit more of a reaction between your legs.

It worked after a couple of minutes as your muscles lost the tension and melted into the cushions further. Eventually, your thighs were spreading as you tried to only think about that orgasm that had been so very close to pleasuring your body but had quickly disappeared from the soldier's appearance.

With your legs now parted and cunt on full displaying, facing the Asset at the end of the couch, you turned the vibrator on, deciding to go straight for the toy this time rather than playing around first. Pressing the device just above your clit, you released a breathy moan, thighs shaking with the increased delight.

This time, your body heated to the point of sweat, and your face hot to the touch because no matter how much you tried to think of anything else, it always came back to the man sitting near you. With your hips jolting and rolling to push against the vibrator, your fingers moved the shirt further up your stomach, revealing your navel and breasts so you could rub and play with them without restriction.

Then, to both your horror and delight, the Winter Solider flashed into your mind, but this time, it was him hovering above you, using his gloved hands to press against your nipples. Your moans increased in volume, back arching with this thought as you begged your mind to continue this naughty thought.

Releasing your breast, your hand trailed down your body, tickling the delicate skin before dipping past your clit and two fingers into your drenched cunt. You were sure he had thicker fingers than you, but the thought of him between your legs, curling them right into that beautiful spot, his other hand holding the vibrator to your clit, had you whithering around on the couch.

Your pussy clenched harshly around your fingers, trying to draw them deeper, needing their fullness. You weren’t sure when it was, but at some point, your eyes opened so that you could look directly at the man in question, who still had failed to move from his seat in the armchair. You weren’t looking at his body thought; you were looking at those sparking blue eyes partially hidden beneath his hair as they continued to look at just your face like he only wanted to see the pleasure you displayed rather than just touching yourself.

“Oh god”, you groan aloud to these thoughts, legs spreading further open and half-flopping off the couch as you curl your fingers faster and harder. You wished it was his fingers touching you, getting you off and bringing you close to the point of orgasming. The vibrator stroked back and forth against your throbbing clit, and that was all the additional stimulation you needed to reach your peak.

Your eyes finally closed once more as you came hard, body shaking and curling in on yourself with each pulse of your pussy around your fingers. You hadn’t orgasmed that hard in months, so it took you a couple of minutes to try and catch your breath and come out of the buzzing created by the euphoria. 

Now what? You thought whilst turning off the vibrator entirely and leaving the two of you in complete silence. The assassins still hadn’t moved, and for a brief second, you thought of his arousal. Could he even be turned on? Was that a function the scientists allowed him to keep while brainwashed? Was he watching you enough to turn him on?

The thought was swiftly pushed out of your mind as you realised he was the fucking Winter Soldier, the highest-trained assassin who was also 70+ years old; this was probably last on his list of things to be worried about. Sitting up whilst covering your body with your t-shirt once more, you struggled to think what to say or do.

“Do you want me to call my Dad to tell him you’re here for a debrief?” From the corner of your eye, the Asset nodded. You stood to take the call in your bedroom, but as you stood, your eyes briefly looked at him more clearly and noticed that he very evidently had an erection with the way his tactical gear was tented at the crotch. For some reason, this made you feel relieved that he had been turned on by what you saw, and it wasn’t just a one-way situation.

Standing and walking into your bedroom, you collapsed onto the bed with your phone raised to your ear.

Your dad answered immediately with a stern tone, “Yes?”

“Uh hey, Dad, just to let you know, the Soldier’s here”.

“What?” came Alexander Pierces’ concerned voice through the mobile.

“Yeah, he just turned up a couple of minutes ago in the living room”.

“Well, tell him to get back to the compound. I won’t be home tonight, so he needs to come here”.

Finishing the conversation with him, you stood to tell the Soldier his orders but found him nowhere in the building, not in the living room, kitchen or even by the front door. He had simply vanished, and what's more, the alarm was still in place, which meant he had a way of getting in and out of your home without triggering the alarm, which you were sure if it terrified or excited you.

[jessiso]

"No Safe Distance"

A Criminal Minds one-shot | Post Prison Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader.

Assigned as her bodyguard after a stalker threatens her life, a guarded post-prison Spencer Reid fights his growing feelings for her—until danger forces them both to confront what’s been building between them.

cw: angst, past trauma, emotional tension, inner conflict, mentions of death, stalking, potential harm, implied sex

w/c 1,145

...

It had been twenty-six days since Spencer Reid moved into your house.

Twenty-six days since the FBI classified the threats against your life as credible.

Since the messages escalated from cryptic letters to photographs of your every move.

Since they realized the man stalking you wasn’t just obsessed—he was planning something.

And twenty-six days since Spencer had taken the corner bedroom downstairs and barely spoken more than a sentence or two at a time.

You weren’t sure what you expected when they told you an agent would be assigned full-time to keep you safe.

Maybe a well-meaning rookie. Maybe someone fatherly and gentle.

But you got Spencer Reid.

He was quiet. Guarded. So smart it was a little terrifying. And intense in ways you couldn’t quite describe, even now.

His brown eyes missed nothing—every twitch of your hands, every tremor in your voice, every flicker of fear. He noticed. He always noticed.

But he never let you see anything in him.

Not softness. Not kindness. And definitely not affection.

At least, not directly.

The first time you fell asleep on the couch, you woke up tucked in with a blanket.

He denied it.

When you forgot to lock the bathroom door and he nearly kicked it in thinking something had happened—you’d seen something flash in his expression.

Panic. Fury. Relief.

Then it was gone, just like always.

Tonight, the house was too quiet.

The news had reported another woman missing—another woman with long dark hair, just like yours.

You were curled up on the window seat, legs drawn to your chest, trying not to tremble.

The silence felt wrong. Too sharp, too still.

Spencer sat in the living room chair, a book on his lap but his eyes unmoving.

You could feel the tension in the air like electricity, humming between you.

You finally broke. "He’s not going to stop, is he?"

His voice was low and flat. “No.”

That honesty was brutal. No comfort. No false hope.

You stared at him, his frame tense, the muscles in his jaw tight, a vein throbbing in his neck.

You spoke again before you could stop yourself. “Do you think he’s watching me? Right now?”

Spencer’s head snapped up, his gaze sharp as a blade. “Don’t say that.”

“But—”

“He is watching you.” Spencer stood now, walking toward you with a tightly coiled energy that made your heart pound. “He’s studying you. Hunting you. And every time you say things like that, you minimize the danger you’re in.”

You blinked, startled by his intensity. “I’m not minimizing—”

“Yes, you are.” His voice was quieter now but no less fierce. “You think I’m here because I want to be? You think I like sleeping with a gun under my pillow every night and checking every lock twice and keeping my hand on my weapon when you walk past a window?”

There it was. The heat. The buried emotion leaking out in controlled bursts.

Your throat tightened. “You don’t have to stay, you know.”

Something dark flickered in his expression, and before you could take it back, he crossed the room in three steps.

“You think I’d leave you now?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “You think I haven’t already memorized every exit, every deadbolt, every creaking floorboard in this house just in case I need to kill someone for you?”

You swallowed, air thin in your lungs.

Spencer’s hands gripped the edge of the window seat on either side of your thighs. Not touching, but so close.

“You’re not just a case anymore,” he murmured, eyes boring into yours. “That’s the problem.”

Your pulse raced. “Then what am I?”

His jaw flexed. “A mistake.”

The words hit you like ice water. You pulled back, the breath caught in your throat, but he didn’t move away.

“I can’t feel things for you,” Spencer said. “Not now. Not like this.”

“But you do,” you whispered.

He flinched. Just barely. But it was there.

He looked away like the truth burned him.

“I can’t be what you want,” he said. “Not when I wake up every night thinking about solitary confinement. Not when I still jump at the sound of cell doors slamming in my dreams. I’m not whole.”

You reached out before you could second-guess yourself, your hand finding his wrist, fingers curling there. His pulse jumped beneath your touch.

“I don’t need you to be whole,” you said softly. “I just need you to be real with me.”

His eyes closed. A breath escaped him. Then, suddenly, Spencer surged forward, lips crashing against yours in a kiss that felt like breaking glass.

You gasped, shocked at the ferocity of it—at the way his hands found your waist like he was trying to memorize the feel of you.

Dominant. Desperate. Unforgiving.

It was raw and consuming, and he didn’t hold back—didn’t pretend.

You’d kissed men before. But you’d never been claimed.

He pulled away just enough to speak, his voice like thunder. “You don’t understand what you’re asking for.”

“Try me.”

“I’m not gentle. Not with this. Not with you.”

You whispered, “I don’t want gentle.”

Spencer’s hands curled tighter on your hips, eyes dark with something close to agony. “If I let myself have you, even a little, I won’t be able to stop.”

“Then don’t stop.”

Something inside him cracked. You heard it—felt it.

He kissed you again, this time slower but no less intense, and you were pulled down into him like gravity.

His hands slid beneath your thighs and lifted you effortlessly into his lap, pressing you flush against him.

You broke the kiss long enough to whisper against his mouth, “Tell me you want me.”

He groaned, forehead falling to your shoulder.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” he whispered. “To care about someone and not be able to save them. I’ve lost people. I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“But I trust you.”

That stilled him. Entirely. Like those words were sacred. Dangerous.

He leaned back just enough to look into your eyes. “You shouldn’t.”

But he kissed you again anyway.

The night passed in a haze of stolen touches and soft moans.

You never made it to your bed—Spencer carried you to the couch, his hands reverent and possessive all at once.

When he touched you, it was like he was rewriting all the pieces of himself he thought were broken.

He whispered your name like a prayer, like he couldn’t believe it was real.

And when it was over—when your breaths were slowing and your body was molded against his—you felt the shift.

Not just lust.

Not just protection.

Something else. Something scarier.

Spencer’s fingers traced shapes on your back, his voice barely audible.

“I’m going to find him,” he said. “And when I do…”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

He didn’t need to.

You knew.

[mingtinysworld]

Lock your windows

Pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader

Genre: smut, "dark" romance

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: After a discussion with your experimental boyfriend, you two are able to play out one of your long awaited fantasies

Warnings: MDNI, CNC, "stalker" wooyoung, role playing?? oral (m/f receiving), fingering, mention of a safe word, it seems noncon but just read til the end please trust me😭

Network: @newworldnet

A/n: idk why but the idea of wooyoung being a stalker is so hot to me. I also know he would be such an experimental partner to have, it's driving me insane. I need him so very badly

You and your friends screech in laughter as someone says something hilarious. You and your friend group have been out for a couple hours now, drinking, eating, shopping, just having the best night out ever. The air is warm and stale, the humidity making your hair puff up in frizziness.

As you stumble along the path in your black high heels and sparkly silver dress you stand out, like a shiny pearl in the ocean. The glitter makes shadows on the dimly lit walls, making the light bounce off. You start laughing at something again when you suddenly stop.

A shiver slithers up your spine and makes the hairs of your nape stand up in alarm. Your friends realize you’re not following them anymore and they stare in confusion. They ask if you’re ok but you’re too busy looking around, trying to find the source of the eerie feeling.

You can’t seem to find anything in the shadows and tentatively take steps forward. Your friends look at each other with raised eyebrows but choose to shrug it off. You keep walking but you don’t say anything until you reach your doorstep. They say goodnight and leave you to your apartment.

You walk in and throw yourself on the cushiony couch, resting your eyes from exhaustion. You tap your foot quietly and hum a random tune that’s been stuck in your head all day when you hear a distant clatter from the direction of your bedroom and your eyes shoot open and foot stops tapping. You stand up curiously and walk towards your room.

As you walk in you can feel a cold breeze and you blink in confusion. You see that your window is wide open, blinds pulled apart. You don’t remember leaving your window open but you must’ve been in a rush and didn’t even realize. You shake your head at your inattentiveness and close it shut. You return to your spot on the couch and shut your eyes once more.

There’s clattering coming from the same direction again and you sit up in alarm this time. You warily go to your room, trying to inspect what the noise is. You see the window is open again, making the curtain billow in the wind.

“What the fuck.” You exclaim. You’re convinced you’re going crazy. You’re sure you closed it, but maybe the day is really getting to your head. You take a step and are thrown down to the ground in an instant. You gasp from the impact, managing to catch yourself on your elbows, but your knees are on fire from the carpet burn.

You try to turn on your back and find that your movements are restricted from a weight on your lower back. It feels like a boot is pressing you down, pushing the air out of your lungs. You breathe in tightly and your whole body tenses. You whimper in pain and the pressure lifts a little and you sigh in relief.

“Hi my love, we finally meet.” The stranger speaks with a low tone.

“W-who are you?” You wheeze out.

“I’m your lover of course, who else would I be?” He says matter of factly. You furrow your eyebrow in confusion.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” You try to talk without your voice betraying your fear. He chuckles at that and completely removes his boot.

“Oh you’ll understand what I mean soon.”

He reaches down to turn you over. As you lay on your back in the dark room, you observe his face as best you can, the only light provided being the single lamppost outside. He has long jet black hair and dark glimmering eyes. His nose has a perfect point and his mouth is turned up at the corners in a sneer.

He also studies you in turn. Your beauty up close does not compare to the months of watching you from afar. The hundreds of photographs hanging in his room pale in comparison. He’s filled with so much pure excitement at seeing you face to face finally.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment. For the day I get to caress your face, for the day I get to hear your sinful noises brought out by me. I’ve been very, very patient and this is my reward.” He looks into your eyes deeply, as if he’s mentally willing you to believe his words.

You feel a shiver go up your spine as you realize that the man is completely serious. He truly believes his delusions and it isn’t up for a discussion. He looks down at his silver watch, as if he’s on a mission. With a growing dread and arousal you realize that he is on a mission.

You are the mission.

You continue to stare at him with wide, fearful eyes as he straddles your still form. He leans into your neck and just stays there, nose taking in your scent deeply. He inhales and exhales and groans quietly. With his mouth muffled against your collarbone, he speaks.

“I can just smell the arousal coming off of you. You really love this huh.” You let out a small whimper at that and he raises his head.

“Don’t worry angel, Wooyoung is here to take care of you. I got you.” He speaks with a promising tone.

He leans in once more and he can feel your rapid heartbeat, which only aids in exciting him further. He kisses you with ease, almost intimately, caressing your bare arms and leaving goosebumps in his wake. You try to use your knee to push him off and he growls into your open mouth. The sweet kiss turns into an animalistic one. He gropes your breasts and kisses you breathless. As he rocks back and forth across your abdomen you can feel his growing bulge.

You feel your cunt throb emptily, needing something you’re too ashamed to admit. You submit to his feverish kisses and try to relax your body. He notices the change and grins in response.

“There you are, my love. Let’s get to the bed, shall we? I’d rather take you on a softer material.” He mockingly pouts and furrows his eyebrows. He lifts you up with ease and gently sets you on the bed. His hands settle underneath your shirt, slightly tickling your stomach. You squirm in hopes that he touches you sometime soon, or else you’ll explode.

He trails down your body, reaching your flimsy shorts and teasingly blows air on you. You buck your hips instinctively and he holds you down, clucking his tongue in disapproval.

“Nuh uh baby, I thought you were gonna be good for me?” He cocks his head sideways, questioning you.

“Yes, yes, I will, I promise.” You babble, feeling fucked out already.

He gives you a soft smile and rubs your thighs soothingly before landing a harsh smack. Your body jolts in reaction but you manage to hold in your yelp. Without wasting another second he pulls your shorts aside and dives in.

You muffle your moan into the palm of your hand, feeling like you need to scream. The stimulation is making you feel relief but so much torture at the same time. Wooyoung’s expert tongue is lapping up your slick, almost like a hungry animal and when he looks up at you, his gaze is as sharp as a predator.

His finger finds your clit with ease and twists and pulls as you mewl pathetically. Not once does he come up for air, he practically buries his head in your pussy, prodding his tongue into every crevice.

“You taste so sweet mmhh.” Wooyoung moans into your pussy, sending vibrations up your body. He digs his fingers into your hips, holding you even closer. You have to bite on your hand now to keep yourself quiet. He slightly bites down on your clit and you let out a shriek. Your body jolts up and you cum with a shuddering breath.

He finally removes himself from you and stares down at the state of your cunt. It’s a sopping wet mess, covered in spit and slick. His face is also covered in your juices, and he greedily licks up what he can. You close your eyes in an attempt to recover, but it’s interrupted by his fingers.

He rams two fingers deep into you until he’s knuckle deep. He finds your g-spot immediately and you see stars, making you hold on to his wrist in a desperate attempt, but he simply pins your hand to your side. You grind your hips deeper into his fingers, needing to feel more. He reads your mind and adds in a third finger.

You moan at the stretch and clamp around him. He looks at your face intently, watching your screwed up face of pleasure. He wastes no time adding a final fourth finger. You gasp at the sensation and convulse from the intensity. Your whole body shakes as you reach the peak of your climax. You cry out and gush around Wooyoung’s slender fingers and he fucks you through your orgasm.

You groan lightly, feeling the energy escape your body. Wooyoung softly caresses your stomach to bring you down and you close your eyes and breathe out. He crawls to you slowly, and you open one eye from feeling the dip of the mattress.

Wooyoung takes your hand and puts it over his hardened bulge. He grinds into your hand slowly, letting out groans of satisfaction. Due to your exhaustion he chooses to go easy on you. He pulls down his pants and gets closer to your awaiting mouth. He slides in slowly, only going halfway. You let your mouth go slack and have him use you gently. He moves in and out, poking the inside of your cheek occasionally. You land a soft hand on him once more and attempt to help out. He throws his head back and enjoys the sensation of your warm mouth.

With a few more soft thrusts he pulls out of your mouth and cums all over your breasts. Once he comes down from his high he grabs towels to clean you up. He gently dabs at your used cunt and slick thighs, including your now cum stained breasts. You feel sleep calling your name and let out a content sigh. Wooyoung notices and lets out a giggle whilst cuddling up to your side.

"Thank you for trusting me baby." He expresses his gratitude by giving small pecks to your face.

"I told you I wouldn't have to use my safe word. You were perfect." You mumble, only half awake.

"I know love, but it's always good to be prepared. It would kill me if I ever hurt you." He speaks reverently, like you're a goddess to worship.

You give him a grunt of acknowledgement to let him know you're still listening even though your tired body is screaming for sleep. Wooyoung looks at your serene face, remembering how wild and frenzied you had looked only moments prior. Before you're completely out he leans down to whisper in your ear.

"I guess this is what happens when you don't lock your windows baby."

[midnightarcheress]

Simon has a new assignment.

pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader 1 | gold rush masterlist.

after years exhausting his body in the military and too many losses to count, Simon decided to retire. goodbye extensive deployments, food and sleep deprivation, constant adrenaline pump in his veins, hours spent washing the blood off of his fingernails. except he didn’t truly retire. life as a civilian again was too strange, too boring. he thrives in following orders and being the best at it. he missed having a purpose, even if it’s far from saving the world.

so, because of that, he agreed on joining a private military company as a contractor. never takes the dirty, mercenary-like jobs though – despite being rusted, his moral compass is still there, so he usually sticks with the security, training, bodyguarding type of work. easy enough to not take a toll on his body, and to not strain his conscience with the worry of ending innocent lives to cover up some bastard’s filth, but demanding enough to keep his mind out of his own life for a while.

the guy on the other side of the line doesn’t tell him much about the new task. bodyguard for an actress, indefinite time, details via e-mail. a few minutes later, the computer screen lights up with the case information and his eyes skim through the text; famous actress, has been receiving threatening letters and who ultimately has a stalker. a seemingly uncapturable one, as the police have not been able to trace them for months. incompetent wankers. in his prime he would locate terrorists with ease; nothing he couldn’t do right now, but his contract was strict – keep her safe and keep to yourself.

he doesn’t recognize the name, but the small picture attached to the message is slightly familiar, maybe from one of the times he spent hours flicking through the channels on the telly while battling a crippling insomnia. his brows knit together when he peers at the set of rules that accompanies the e-mail. no talking, no touching unless extremely necessary, must keep distance at all times.

in the months he’s been working in the company, he never had a job with an actual celebrity – mostly politicians and businesspeople, extremely straightforward and simple to execute, usually for a short period of time. he’s convinced that it will be the longest mission of his life, probably dealing with an entitled rich woman who’s used to having everybody begging at her feet.

dread fills his mind as he watches the trees quickly passing by his window on the car. the drive to the meeting is short enough to contain the rate of the antipathy brewing on his chest, but long enough to make him question accepting the assignment.

he pulls up on the driveway and walks towards a tall, modern building, filled with frantic people walking from side to side. glancing at his phone, he re-reads the details of the reunion; second door on the 23th floor, her manager will be expecting you. his fingers tap on the side of his thigh as the lift raises to the office level, eyes glaring at the mirror in the back of the platform. the image on the glass differs from the one on his past – military buzzcut and skull-printed balaclava replaced by messy blond locks and a neck gaiter, still covering a bit of his face even after all this time. old habits die hard.

the doors pry open right after the number appears on the screen and he walks down the hallway to the office, stopping on his tracks as he notices a feminine voice coming from inside the room. “i’m scared just as much as you, but is this really necessary?” she’s in there too? wasn’t the meeting only with the guy?

“yes, princess, it is necessary. do you want to make the front-page news as a corpse?” another voice can be heard responding, this time, male. must be the manager.  “in case you've forgotten, i’m also your friend, and i’m merely concerned about your safety. we cannot let that stunt from last week happen again.” stunt. he recalls part of the information on the file, depicting how she was almost assaulted by a weirdo that followed her on the street; however, the creepy prick was cleared from being the stalker and left the station on bail. great justice system. 

“we’ve already increased the security on your house, he was just hired to keep you safe on the outside.” he decides to stop eavesdropping and knocks sharply on the door. “must be him.” the man says, and he listens as footsteps approach the entryway.

“well, hello there. please, come in,” he steps aside, allowing Simon to enter the room. the office is fairly average, leather couch on one corner, portraits on the wall of what he assumes are the man’s clients, but all of the attention goes to the large windows showing a perfect view of the city. “so, i’m Daniel, the great manager as you may know," he smugly speaks, "and of course you already know her.” he gestures to the woman on the armchair.

the woman from the picture. the woman from the late night movie he was absentmindedly watching on a late night. you. you look the same as he'd seen before, but somehow entirely different. the warm sunlight coming through the glass shines on your skin when you stand on your feet, golden flecks twinkling in your irises as you offer him your name and extend a hand to greet him, sweetly mouthing “and you are?”

he shakes your hand with a firm grasp, stirring away the sudden void in his brain and swallowing the lump on his throat that hindered his words. “Ghost.” easy detachment. his gruff voice reverberates in the space as he repeats the orders in his head, the sense of doubt starting to cloud his judgement. keep to yourself. maybe the job won’t be as bad as he thought.

been a bit obsessed with this idea so i decided to write it and see how it goes.