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melodygatesauthor · 1 year

Text

Then I Saw You

Basil Stitt X f!Reader

Beta Read By: @xbellaxcarolinax - Using prompts by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, a few Nonnies, and my own ideas.

PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!

Summary

You moved in next door to Basil Stitt two weeks after his incident. After everyone he cared about ignored his calls and acted like he didn't exist, he was starved for affection, and your pretty voice caught his attention immediately. He decided he'd do just about anything to have you all for himself...anything.

Tags/Warnings

Disclaimers: There is heavy non-con in this fic, it's not for everyone. If you're sensitive to that sort of thing in fanfiction, please keep on scrolling thanks.

NSFW, non-con, rape, sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, masturbation, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, porn with some plot, smut, creampie, breeding kink if you REALLY squint, non-consensual somnophilia, drugged sex, non-consensual drug use, minor mention of suicide but NO actual death or implied death in fic, also me making some shit up like how peepholes work, neighbor!Reader, dark fic, dark Basil Stitt. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (that means that what you see in the tags WILL be in the fic, don't act surprised when you get exactly what you were warned about.)

Word Count: 9.8k

Basil saw the moving truck outside when it pulled up by the curb. Two men got out, opened up the back, and started to bring someone’s belongings inside. His apartment was only one of the two on his floor. The old man across the hall went to a nursing home a couple of weeks ago…was he getting a new neighbor? Sure enough, he heard them opening the door across from his and moving things inside.

He looked around at his living space, a disgusting mess of old pizza boxes, empty alcohol bottles, and his broken belongings. No doubt he’d need to get a better handle on his outbursts. He’d already received a notice from the landlord with all the banging and shouting the person living below him had dealt with. Depending on the kind of person the new neighbor would be, he might get more than just a warning if they heard him being too rambunctious.

That’s when he heard your voice, a sweet thing that crept under the gap between his door and the hardwood floor that he was likely to lose his security deposit for after destroying it. He ran to the peephole, looking through the lens and seeing you for the first time.

His heart felt like it stopped beating. His entire body shook as he pressed his palm to the door. You were…beautiful.

“What the fuck…” he whispered to himself, as you walked into your apartment. “W-what the…” he stepped away from the door, “fuck.”

The second your door opened again he was pinned to his own, his good eye glued back at the peephole to get a glimpse of you. He whined, seeing your pretty smile as you handed the movers some money. Why were you smiling at them like that? Basil paused. Why did he care?

Maybe it was that you sounded, and looked, so nice. His calls to his girlfriend had still been unanswered, and the same could be said for his parents. You looked like someone who would care about him. Someone who could look past…

No.

Despite wanting to stare at you longer, he stepped in front of his mirror instead. There was no way you would be able to stomach looking at someone like him. He touched the reddened, rippled deformity on the left side of his face. An overwhelming dread poured into his chest, making him feel heavy with sorrow. How could anyone love him? His own mother couldn’t even be bothered to speak to him, even after all the voicemails he left.

“Yeah absolutely, I’d love that,” you giggled in the hall.

You’d love what? Basil thought, rushing to the door once again to see who had you feeling so upbeat.

You had a piece of paper in your hand. He didn’t like how one of the movers was smiling and looking at you. Was he flirting with you? Basil’s hand reached for the door handle, but he stopped. What was his plan? Was he going to walk out there, someone you’d never seen or met before in your life, and just tell the guy to fuck off?

In a perfect world…yes.

He’d step out there, no paper bag on, and tell the man off. Basil imagined you’d be so enamored with his actions that you’d kiss him, smiling at him the way you were smiling at the mover right now. You’d touch his cheek and look at him as though his face were normal, like it was just a couple of short weeks ago. Your lips looked so soft.

Basil whined, pressing his entire body against the door, cock rubbing between the wood and his abdomen. He saw you go into your apartment again, closing the door behind yourself. Over the next couple of hours he sat in front of the door, waiting…listening for your voice. All he heard was the sound of the movers going in and out, until finally there was nothing.

He stood there in the still of the silence, breathing slowly and trying to contain himself. He thought about opening his door again and knocking on yours, introducing himself as any good neighbor would. His breath hitched in his throat when he considered your reaction though. What if you saw his face…

What if you saw the monster he’d become?

“No, no, no…” he shouted, feeling emotionally overwhelmed at the thought of your rejection.

He would rather spend his life watching you through his peephole than risk your outright denial of him. At least in his mind, he could think up a million fantasies where you loved him, let him take you on a beautiful date, and where you were pinned underneath him, screaming his name while he made you come over and over again.

He was still so fucking hard. He needed you to step out of your apartment. He needed you now. Just the sound of your voice would do something for him. If he could just hear it, just a little bit, it was all he needed. He slowly opened the door and stepped into the hall, ensuring no one was there. He walked up to your door, looking through the lens to see if he could get a glimpse of you.

You walked by, and he thought he might collapse. You’d changed into something more comfortable, a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top. As you should, it was rather warm that day. You deserved to be comfortable, perhaps even naked. Basil’s thoughts consumed him as he watched you bending over to open a box, pulling some things out, and disappearing from view. How lucky he was that you put those boxes right there by the door.

His hands gripped the doorframe tightly, and he rutted his hips involuntarily against the door. His whole body shook, watching you move so freely around your new home. He wondered what would happen if he just walked in and took you while you were bent over in a box. Your pussy was right there, hiding behind such a thin layer of fabric. Surely it would be easy to just…

He bit his lip so hard he tasted iron, rolling his cock faster against the door. His breathing was labored, needy, and desperate for you. Basil knew he wasn’t good enough for you, but you might like him if you just gave him a chance. He could thrust into your wet, velvety heat and make you scream out like it was the best thing you’d ever felt. Or maybe you’d cry out in terror because no one wants to fuck a monster.

He let out a low growl, feeling his cock ache while it leaked in his pants. You’d heard the sound, stopping what you were doing to turn and face the door.

That was it.

That was all he needed to see before he lost it. His body shook against the door while a soft whimper left his lips. Hot cum spilled out through his clothes, leaving a wet streak on the wood he’d been rutting against. He sighed, finally feeling some sense of satisfying relief. Even after all the nights he’d spent palming his own release, he’d never felt so good.

You did this to him.

He had to move, looking into the peephole to see that you were coming closer. Basil darted from your door, opening his quickly and locking himself inside silently. He didn’t want you to know he was there. He couldn’t let you know he was there. He couldn’t let you see his fucking face.

----

It only took him a few days to get your schedule figured out.

In the morning when you left - he presumed for work - you were dressed so nicely. He would’ve followed you but, on account of his horrific deformity, he couldn’t. So he settled for what little bits of you he could. He loved it most when you’d come home, tired from the day and retreating to your apartment so he could sneak over to your door and peek at you.

He would only allow himself a few moments of watching before his conscience forced him back to his own place where he would fuck his fist raw, passing out on the couch. Everything was fine, and he could see himself doing things that way forever, until it wasn’t enough anymore.

He needed more.

Basil found a gift card to a coffee shop up the road that he knew only had a dollar and some change left on it, and made his way to your door late one night about a week after you’d moved in. You were already in bed, at least, he assumed you were. It was two in the morning and he couldn’t hear a sound coming from your apartment. Basil stuck the card in between the frame and the door, wiggling very slowly so as not to make a lot of noise.

Click.

When your door opened slowly, he felt his heart fluttering wildly. This was it. This was the moment that he finally would get to see you. He stepped slowly, sock-covered feet treading silently over your floor. Your apartment was laid out exactly the same as his only mirrored, making it easy for him to get to your bedroom. He stopped when he got to the doorway though. There was a mirror on the wall to his right.

Turning to see his appearance, he lost all confidence. The grotesque creature looking back grounded him. He couldn’t go in there, not like that. What if you woke up? Maybe if he was still attractive he could make you understand why he was there, standing over you and watching you sleep, but not like the way he looked now. If he tried that now, you’d scream, calling him a freak, or a monster. He couldn’t risk hearing such horrid words coming out of such a pretty mouth, so he backed away.

“Another day…I’ll see you another day then,” he whispered with a soft cry leaving his lips. “Goodbye.”

On his way out, he stopped when his foot landed on something unexpected on your living room floor. He reached down, feeling something soft in his hands. He knew immediately what he was holding, but he brought it to the dim light coming through the window from the moonlit sky to look at it anyway. They were black, made with delicate lace…your panties.

----

Basil stared at your panties on his bed for at least two hours. He hadn’t smelled them yet because he wanted to pace himself. He wanted to savor them, enjoy them as long as he could before he had to steal another pair. Deep down he hoped they would fix him; that they’d be enough to satisfy the unquenchable thirst you seemed to fill him with. At the same time, he knew deep down that this was likely only the beginning of what would become something very, very, dark.

Taking the delicate fabric in his hands, he brought them to his face, rubbing the place that touched your cunt along his nostrils and inhaling so deep he thought he might faint. He shuddered, falling back and catching himself on his desk. He moaned, feeling them against his face once more.

“Fuck, fuck baby…” he whined, breath coming out in a ragged pant.

His tongue darted out, dragging along the place where your flavor was most potent. He whimpered, squeezing the desk so hard his knuckles ached. He licked again. You tasted too good, so delicious he thought he might die if he never got his mouth on the real thing.

Basil’s elbow brushed against the handle on the knife he’d stabbed into his desk multiple times. He snatched it up, holding it and turning it in his hand, letting the moonlight shine off the metal. He could see his mattress just over the edge, and had - what he thought was - a brilliant idea. His cock ached, and it was your fault. Once again he needed to satisfy his urges because you wouldn’t.

He stormed over to the bed, knife in hand, before stabbing a hole deep into the center, making sure it was big enough to take him. He didn’t even know where the knife landed when he threw it to the other side of his apartment, and he didn’t care. Basil wrapped your panties around his pillow before hastily removing his pants, hands shaking in the process. He’d never felt so fucking desperate.

If he closed his eyes, he could almost convince himself that the stuffing in the mattress was a good substitute for your beautiful pussy. It wasn’t, nothing would ever be a good enough substitute for you, but this wasn’t too bad. He slid himself in all the way, body shaking at the sensation as the cotton moved aside for him. Basil buried his face into your panties, taking in your smell some more, and licking them to breathe in your taste.

The bed rocked against the floor, probably loud enough to piss off the occupant of the apartment below him. He didn’t fucking care, he was busy.

“Mm, that’s it, baby, you feel so fucking good,” he whispered the words he wished he could say to you. “So tight, you’ve been waiting for someone like me to come stretch you out hm? Fuck.”

He wondered if you’d like the way he sounded when he was grinding into you. Would you like listening to his hungry moans and low growls? What about when he whimpered and whined? He always thought he sounded a little pathetic, but would you judge him for it? He couldn’t help it, when the pleasure overwhelmed him he had to vocalize it.

“Honey, you’re so sweet,” he kissed your panties, imagining that you’d squirm for him when he did. “Such a pretty little pussy.”

He was good with his tongue, he knew you’d like it if you’d just let him have you. There wasn’t a man alive that would spend hours with his tongue flicking over that swollen little clit until you were nearly pissing yourself from overstimulation, not the way Basil would. No one could love you the way he would.

His drool made your panties wet, the taste and smell already mixing with his own while he fucked the hole in his mattress sloppily. He got louder, practically yelling in a loud rasp while he mouthed at his pillow.

“You’re so good, s-so g-good.” His voice became heavier, deeper, more like a low, feral growl as his climax closed in.

Basil’s body stopped with his cock buried to the hilt inside the mattress. His body trembled and shook while he pumped shot after shot of hot sticky cum into the cotton. He was practically screaming, face buried into the pillow to muffle the sounds. His mind went blank, except for your face. He felt his cock twitching, emptying every bit it could into the damn mattress.

It was just a fucking mattress.

Basil’s heavy breathing slowed and eventually turned to sobs. He held the pillow close, crying into it, soaking the fabric with his tears. What kind of loser fucks a mattress? He thought to himself, feeling his cock getting soft inside the hole he’d made.

----

Basil woke the next morning with his drool adhering your panties to his scarred cheek. His cock was dried with cum to the hole in his mattress. He groaned, feeling like he’d had the night of his life…only to quickly realize that he looked like a pathetic mess that his own mother couldn’t even bring herself to love. He’d fucked his mattress.

What kind of loser…

His thoughts trailed off before he could finish repeating the sentiment of the night before. He peeled his face off the pillow and winced in pain while pulling his dick out of the bed. He heard your voice in the hall, calling him like a siren song to his peephole. He looked out there, and you were standing in the hall laughing with your phone to your ear.

“Yeah you can pick me up at seven, that would be great,” you said as you disappeared out of view.

“The moving man…” Basil said to himself, turning away from the door and running both hands through his hair with his eyes wide, his anger building.

He saw himself in the mirror again, face dropping as he was reminded of his disgusting appearance. His hair was everywhere, cock limp and just hanging there like a sad, pathetic thing. His shirt had pizza sauce stains all over, and discoloration under the armpits. In a moment - a very short moment - of clarity, Basil realized that even if he did manage to get you to move on from the scar, he wouldn’t be able to impress you looking, and smelling, the way he did.

“Alright, you’re going on a fucking date with some fucking loser huh?” He said, feeling the pain ripping through his chest. “Let me show you what you’re missing!”

He showered, feeling clean for the first time since the incident. When he stepped out of the shower, he noticed the good side of his face for the first time in over two weeks. The way the steam covered the mirror, only the unblemished side was visible. He touched it, feeling comfort in the fact that he could pretend for a moment that he was normal, that everything was normal.

He turned the hot water in his bathroom sink on, keeping the mirror steamed up while he took his razor blade and shaving cream out of the cabinet. He had to keep wiping the mirror so he could see himself, and that was probably why he nicked his cheek a little. He cursed, finishing the shave and then holding a small bit of toilet paper to the wound. As if he needed more deformities on his face.

Once composed, Basil walked out to his living room, realizing finally what a mess it was. He couldn’t possibly bring you in there with it looking like that. And he was going to bring you in there one way or another.

It took him all day to get his apartment back to a, somewhat, normal state. Basil had to push through several mood swings in the process, fantasizing about how impressed you would be, complimenting how nice his place was, and reality creeping its way into his mind and reminding him that you were going on a date tonight…

A knock on his door forced all the thoughts to a stop. Who the fuck was knocking on his door? He hadn’t bought pizza or groceries. The new mattress he ordered wasn’t expected until next week. Basil walked up to his peephole, peering through only to nearly collapse when he saw you. He stepped away from the door as if it were made of hot coals.

“Holy shit,” he whispered. His body immediately started trembling. “Um…I can’t come to the door right now!”

“Oh!” He held his chest when you spoke. You were speaking to him. “Well that’s okay, I just wanted to leave you some cookies.” You chuckled softly. “I honestly didn’t even realize I had a neighbor until I heard you playing some cool music yesterday.”

“C-cool music?”

Basil was still so in shock that you were even speaking to him that he’d forgotten how inconsiderate he’d been yesterday afternoon. He remembered playing music so loudly it probably could be heard by you and the downstairs neighbor.

“I’m sorry if it was annoying, I’ll keep it down next–”

“No it’s alright! I actually like it!” You couldn’t be that perfect, you couldn’t be. “Well, I hope you like chocolate chip, I’ll leave them here! I’m not the best cook but I tried.”

Your little giggle would be the death of him.

“I would like anything you made for me…” He said softly as he was struggling to breathe.

“What did you say?”

He cleared his throat, “I um…thank you so much I’m sure they’re great.”

“Okay well, have a good day! Maybe I’ll see you another time.”

With that, you were gone, and Basil’s knees felt so weak he had to sit on the floor. You talked to him. You fucking talked to him. You really did like him. You must have liked him, why else would you have come to his door and left him such a nice gift?

Basil waited by his door until he was sure you were gone before opening it and pulling the cookies inside. They were still warm, you must’ve just made them and waited for them to cool off before bringing them to his door. He held one in his hand, turning it around to decide which side to bite first. He finally bit into it, feeling the sweet flavor fill his mouth, forcing a smile over his lips.

You made those for him.

Basil ate too many cookies, and with the pang of despair rushing through him periodically at the thought of you going on a date in just an hour, he found himself with his head in the toilet bowl, vomiting uncontrollably. He groaned into the bowl, beginning to cry in frustration. He couldn’t keep himself together. You deserved to go on that date with someone else, someone who wouldn’t flush the delicious gift you brought them because they didn’t know how to establish self-control.

Your door opened at 6:55pm on the dot. Basil was, of course, watching you. He felt his cock aching immediately at the sight of you in that tight black dress. Watching the way it shifted as your hips swayed down the hall made his heart rate rise quickly. He couldn’t believe that someone else would be seeing you in that, touching you in that.

He had the urge to be destructive again, feeling his breathing become rapid and labored in panic. He went to the window where he could see the street below to watch you get into the man’s car, only to see you standing there shivering. Why hadn’t you worn a coat? Basil looked over at the clock, 7:01pm. The guy was late.

While he didn’t enjoy seeing you waiting in the cold, Basil did like knowing the man was unreliable. He watched you pull out your phone, likely calling your missing date. He could tell the man didn’t answer by the way your arm dropped to your hip and head hung in disappointment. You waited though, still hoping he would show up, just standing there in the cold.

For ten more minutes Basil watched you wait, full of hope, only to end up disappointed in the end on your walk back into the building. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so happy, wanting desperately to rush out into the hall and offer to take you out. He couldn’t though…that stupid fucking scar was ruining his life.

It hit him suddenly, that you would be hungry. He couldn’t let you go hungry, not after how sweet you’d been to him, so it was time to repay the favor. Even before the incident, Basil couldn’t cook for shit, and he wasn’t about to try now. This opened the door for another opportunity though…an opportunity to see you in person…

“No, no you’re crazy,” he said, looking at himself in the mirror.

He couldn’t see you like that, not with the horrible scar. And showing up at your doorstep with food in hand and a paper bag on his head would be even weirder than the scar. But if you were asleep, well, it would be hard to be afraid of him then…wouldn’t it?

With a plan in place, he called to order a pizza. He didn’t know what you liked yet, but everyone liked pizza, right? You were nice, you’d probably eat it even if it wasn’t your favorite. Plus you’d be hungry. He was banking on you being hungry.

The food arrived at his door a little while later, and the delivery man knew to just leave it on the floor. Basil took the sleeping pills he was prescribed and crushed them, sprinkling the dust over each slice so you were sure to get some in your system. Every bit of reasonable thinking was gone. He needed more than just your damn panties and a cum filled mattress.

He needed you.

Basil put the pizza in front of your door and knocked before scrambling back into his own place. He watched through the peephole as you stepped out, dressed in a comfortable pair of sweats and a loose t-shirt. You sniffled and looked down at the pizza with a confused expression. It was obvious that you’d been crying.

That’s what you get for thinking someone else could do better for you than I can. Basil thought to himself.

You lifted the sticky note he’d adhered to the box, reading over it slowly before a smile appeared on your face.

Thought you might be hungry.

The cookies were really good, here’s some pizza.

Your neighbor, Basil

Basil’s heart nearly stopped. You were smiling because of something he did. You were smiling because of him.

“This is so nice of you,” you said softly, looking at the door. “Would you…would you want to come in and have some too?”

There’s no way this was real. There’s no way you were actually inviting him into your apartment. Basil looked down at his clothes and straightened out his shirt. His breathing became shallow at the thought. This was so unexpected, he couldn’t believe it. Basil looked over at the table next to the door and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the bowl he usually tossed his keys in.

“Um…I can’t, but you should enjoy it,” he said with a crack in his voice.

He was surprised to see the look of disappointment on your face. This must be his delusions toying with him again. You weren’t disappointed that he wouldn’t come to your apartment, that would never be the case. He stood there awkwardly, watching you through the peephole, waiting for you to leave.

“Well, you didn’t have to do this, but thank you so much, I actually am hungry.” You paused and sighed, “I’m glad you liked the cookies,” you said to him before retreating to your own apartment once again, pizza in hand.

Basil was trembling at the door for the better part of a half hour. He was stunned by your reaction, by the fact that you invited him over. It couldn’t be real. You’d fucking invited him over! If you’d known what a loser he was, would you have still invited him? If you’d known he fucked a hole in his mattress while intoxicated by the smell of your cunt would you still want him in your home?

----

He waited until it was late and he knew you’d be sound asleep. He walked into your apartment, noticing the pizza on the counter, the box still open, and three slices missing. Surely you’d consumed enough to be comatose for the time being. He stepped into your bedroom and froze.

“Wow,” he whispered, staring intently at your half-dressed form on the bed.

You hadn’t even covered up. Did you know there was a chance he might creep into your house and you wanted to be ready for him? Did you wear that tank top that barely covered anything and those lacy panties knowing he would like them? What about the way your lips parted…were you expecting him to kiss them?

Basil knelt down, reaching his shaking hand out to touch your cheek. Your skin was so soft. He felt a sob swelling in his chest. If his face was still soft, would you let him touch you while you were awake? Would you be able to actually look at him without being disgusted? He couldn’t even look at himself without being disgusted anymore.

“So pretty…”

He leaned in, brushing his nose against yours, in a small way he was testing to see if it would wake you. You stayed asleep, and so he moved forward, pressing his lips against yours. He stayed there for so long, just letting his mouth linger, feeling the way his skin felt against yours. He felt his cock growing already, aching and pressing against the zipper in his jeans. He wanted to feel your mouth in other ways, a kiss wasn’t enough.

“Someday I hope you’ll be able to enjoy this while you’re awake but…for now this is how we need to do this, okay?” he looked at you, knowing you wouldn’t answer, but hoping your subconscious would somehow hear him and understand.

Basil unbuttoned his pants, sliding the zipper down slowly and pulling the waist down with his boxer briefs as well. His fat cock bobbed out, already leaking from the head, slick strands dripping to the floor beneath him. He held the top of your head with one hand, and his length with the other, bringing the weeping tip to your pretty lips.

His body trembled immediately, feeling the way your mouth opened around his girth. He moved in further, feeling the wet heat of your tongue on the underside of his shaft. If he gagged you would you wake? He tested it, sliding forward more, watching those lips stretch around him. If you were awake you’d look up at him so pretty, eyes filling with tears as you struggled to take him all the way.

He stuffed himself all the way into your mouth, the tip of his cock resting in your throat. He could feel your body responding to the foreign object naturally, throat closing around him while you gagged, but you stayed asleep. The feeling was indescribable, causing his entire body to shake and tremble while he kept your head impaled on him.

“You’re too good baby, too good…you're gonna make me come…gonna make me come too fast! Ah!”

Basil pulled his cock out of your mouth and jerked his spend onto your cheek. He fisted himself angrily, beyond pissed that he couldn’t hold it in for more than one fucking minute. If the time ever came - which he expected it wouldn’t - that he managed to get you in bed while awake, if his face didn’t scare you off, the fact that he was a minuteman surely would.

He looked all around for something to clean you up with, but anything in your apartment would have to be taken out, or else you’d know someone was there. Basil decided to peel off his t-shirt, using that to wipe your face clean. He leaned against the wall, looking at you, still scowling and infuriated with his inability to perform, even while you were sleeping.

The longer he looked at you though, the more aroused he became all over again. Maybe getting off so quickly wouldn’t be a dealbreaker…not with you being his own personal aphrodisiac. He walked over to you again, touching your hip and squeezing your flesh. He pushed you onto your back, hooking a finger into the waist of your cute little panties. To his surprise, between your lips was sticky, warm, and wet. Did he do this to you? Did he have this effect on you?

Basil pulled your underwear down your beautiful legs slowly, staring at the slit between them hungrily. He felt some drool spilling over his bottom lip that he wiped away quickly. Tossing your panties aside, he crawled onto the bed, lowering his head between your thighs. He could smell you as he closed in, the same familiar smell he’d spent the other night drowning himself in.

Using two thick fingers, he spread your lips, watching the slick strands of your arousal stretch and break as they moved further apart. Everything was glistening and wet, and it was all for him. He leaned in, licking a stripe up and collecting what he could on his tongue, bringing it in past his lips and letting the taste settle in his mouth before swallowing.

He became immediately addicted, going in and pressing his face against your mound, moaning loudly into it. He wondered if you’d notice the feeling of his textured skin against your thighs. Would you find that disgusting? Of course you would. You’d probably yell at him and throw him out of your apartment just for looking at you with that milky broken eye in his head while he ate you out.

Not while you were asleep though. While you were sleeping he could plunge two fingers into your tight little hole and feel your cunt clenching around him. In your sleep you wanted him, you were pulling his fingers in deeper like you were starving and needed to taste him. It wasn’t enough, his fingers just weren’t going to do it for you, you needed more.

Positioning himself between your limp legs, Basil brought his cock to your entrance, gliding it between your folds to get it slick with your juices. If you were awake he imagined you might be moaning, whimpering, maybe even begging for him. He tested your threshold, seeing how well the last man in there had stretched you out. Not very well it would seem.

Slowly, he slid himself in, shuddering as he felt your walls closing down over every inch. He used two fingers to hold your puffy lips open so he could watch your cunt swallowing his cock. He needed to last, he needed to keep himself from coming too soon again. He might be a pathetic freak, but he wasn’t going to spill his load like one.

Fuck.

He wondered if this was how he would keep you. It was entirely possible he’d just pumped a baby into you without your knowledge, but that was okay. It was perfect actually. You wouldn’t want to have a baby without someone around to help you, right? He’d be able to swoop in and be there for you, to care for you.

He touched your stomach as he pulled out of you. He shuddered on the way out, looking down at the mess he made as it trickled from your pretty little hole. Basil had never been so proud of something in all his life. He may have been a hideous monster, but he made you look so beautiful just by stuffing you with everything he could. He wanted to do more. He wanted to do it again.

But he wanted you to be awake this time.

----

Another week went by of you and Basil trading food and notes throughout the day. It started the morning after he fucked your sleeping body that you came by with breakfast. He smiled and nearly cried again as he watched you put down the plate with a metal lid keeping it warm as if he’d ordered room service.

“Good morning. I don’t know if you like coffee but, you can come over and get some if you want,” you said, waiting to see if he’d respond.

He didn’t, instead he just stood there staring at you. He didn’t want to come over yet. Not while you were awake anyway. He couldn’t stand the idea of you seeing him and being afraid of what you saw. The thought of it was devastating and it hadn’t even happened yet.

“Um, no thank you. Thank you for the breakfast though I’m looking forward to it. You’re a great cook.” He said through the door.

You looked disappointed again. Were you lonely or something? Why did you care if your neighbor wanted to come over or not? You didn’t even know him, wasn’t that dangerous? He sniffed out a laugh at his own thoughts.

“It’s fine, my offer stands,” you started for your apartment again.

“I’ll cover lunch,” he said quickly before you disappeared.

When lunch came, he wanted to do something better than pizza. You deserved something good after what you’d done for him the other night, so he ordered from one of the fancy restaurants nearby and had it delivered to your door. When you retrieved your food, you furrowed your brow and smiled widely.

“Really? Gino’s? That place is pretty pricey.”

“Well, you’re really kind so… I thought I’d do something nice for you,” he felt nervous every time you spoke to him.

To his surprise, you left the bag in the hall and disappeared into your apartment. Did he do something wrong? He started panicking, thinking maybe he’d offended you somehow. Did you hate expensive food? Did you not like Gino’s? He reached for the handle, ready to pull the bag into his apartment and hope you forgot about it altogether when your door opened again and you stepped out with a folding chair in hand.

“Well, if you’re going to buy me an expensive meal, the least I can do is join you for lunch. Did you get something to eat?” You asked, sitting down and pulling out the meal he’d bought for you.

“Uh, well…” he felt his stomach grumble suddenly when he realized he hadn’t thought of his own hunger in the slightest, “I had a big breakfast.”

You chuckled, “Yeah so did I…here…”

Basil watched in awe, still shocked you were even giving him the time of day, as you sorted the containers of food and made two meals out of the one he bought. You reached for his door and then stopped, dropping your hand at your side.

“I know you like to keep to yourself, so I’ll leave this here and turn around so you can get it, okay?”

Why were you so understanding? Were you quite literally the epitome of perfection wrapped up in the most beautiful looking person he’d ever seen? Basil, at this point, was nearly certain he was having visual hallucinations. It wouldn’t be the first time since the incident that he’d thought he’d seen things…or heard things. Maybe this was just him going completely nuts. Maybe this was just an extension of his psychotic break. You put the box of food down and turned.

Slowly, Basil opened the door, not peeking his head out far enough that you’d be able to see even if you did turn around, and he pulled the food back inside. You didn’t even try to peek. You didn’t let - what he assumed to be - your morbid curiosity get the better of you. Basil pulled a chair over and sat with his half of the meal on the other side of the door.

He couldn’t see you now, but he could hear you, and that was good enough for him.

“So, you obviously saw me get ridiculously embarrassed last night,” you said from the other side of the door.

He smirked, thinking about how much he enjoyed you last night, and how much you seemed to enjoy him, despite not ever knowing he was there. You called it embarrassing, but to Basil, it was an amazing, and unwasted, opportunity to show you something better.

“Well, maybe it’s good that he’s doing this now instead of wasting your time later,” Basil said, taking a bite of his food.

He thought about Katherine and the way she’d been to him. She cheated on him for so long, and yet he stayed. Since seeing you, Basil considered that he never really loved her, he just hated the thought of admitting someone could cast him away so easily after so many years. He further hated the thought of losing the social status that came with having a girlfriend. Everyone seemed to respect you and treat you differently if you had a pretty girl on your arm. He would’ve dealt with the cheating to avoid the shame of admitting she’d cheated on him, but he never really loved her.

Not the way he loved you.

“You’re very right about that,” you agreed with a mouthful of food. “What about you? Are you seeing someone?”

Basil laughed loudly, “me? Is that a joke?”

“Hey, just because you’re a hermit doesn’t mean you don’t have some online girlfriend or something.”

“No…no, no one would be interested in me,” Basil felt the weight of his loneliness on his chest again.

“You seem like a sweet guy, and you do have great taste in music, I’m sure there’s someone out there who would love to date you,” you chuckled, “this kinda feels like a date.”

Basil put his food down, having completely lost his appetite in favor of this conversation with you. He stood, going back to the peephole. You must’ve heard him because you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours and stared.

“Why?” He asked. “This is weird.”

“What’s weird? Me talking to you about my dating life when you literally live next door to me? You probably know more about what’s happening in my personal life than anyone,” you said, shaking your head and putting your food on the floor too.

You got up and walked to the door, putting your palm on the wood paneling and resting it there.

“When I came in from that date, well, lack thereof, I called my best friend and my mom, and no one answered,” you looked at the floor and then back at the peephole. “Some stranger who I hardly know, but who also seems to be going through something, was kind enough to send me a pizza. That kinda checks off a lot of boxes for me as far as someone I might be interested in getting to know better.”

“What if you find out I’m actually a horrible person? Like you said, you don’t know me,” he retorted, thinking about what he’d done to that pizza you were so grateful for.

“Are you a murderer?” You asked bluntly, keeping your eye on the peephole.

“Well no, no I’m not.”

“Okay then I don’t think–”

“What if I’m hideous?”

“I don’t give a shit about looks really,” you sighed and sat back down in your chair. “I know this is weird, that’s why I just want to talk to you, get to know you a little. Is that alright?”

You were right. There was no harm in getting to know him, except it gave him hope. The last thing he could handle was the thought of you leading him on and then turning him down once you saw his face. What if getting to know you only made his obsession grow? How would he ever recover from the crushing despair if you rejected him once you saw what he really looked like?

“Fine,” he said, sitting back down.

For days you shared meals and stories, taking turns sitting outside the other’s door while getting to know one another. Basil was falling for you. It was more than just that obsession to fuck you now, it was that need to call you his. It was the need to have you smiling and laughing with him on a lazy Sunday morning or while apple picking in the fall. Simultaneously, it was the need to have you moaning his name while you took every inch he had.

He would overcome anything for you, even his greatest fear, which was risking your potential rejection of him.

He gave himself the excuse he needed to knock on your door and come inside. You’d had a heavy package delivered, and while he was certain you could handle it, he decided to offer some help. Basil knocked on your door, heart pounding with every step he heard you took toward him. He adjusted the paper bag on his head, knowing he looked foolish, but he wasn’t ready to show you everything yet.

You opened the door, and he saw your eyes scanning him up and down. This was the first time he was seeing you in the open while awake, and you took his breath away. It was evening, so the two of you had already had your dinner date. The UPS driver came late, and you probably hadn’t planned on company, hence the short shorts and ill-fitting tank top.

“Basil?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

You were judging him, he could tell. His palms started to sweat and he lost the ability to speak. Could he remember how to breathe?

“Oh, my package!” You exclaimed, walking over to it and trying uselessly to lift it.

“I got it,” he said, coming out of his stupor and rushing to aid you.

You thanked him as he brought the package into your apartment and placed it down on your floor by the couch with a heavy grunt. He stood up, stepping away from the package. His paper bag rustled as he did so.

“Thanks. I probably could’ve dragged that in here myself but…I appreciate the help,” you sighed, giving Basil a smile that nearly stretched ear to ear.

If you could see his face, you’d see how flushed his cheeks were at your charming expression.

“What?” He asked, keeping his eyes on you.

“I’m just happy to see you out of your apartment,” you explained sincerely. “You don’t have to keep the bag on unless you want to, but it’s going to be kinda hard to drink some wine with it on.”

You went to one of your cupboards and pulled out a bottle of Barefoot Moscato and two glasses.

“All I’ve got is white, and it’s cheap,” you said, pouring the drinks.

“Oh um…I’m not…I was going to go back…”

“Come on Basil, please just stay for one glass?”

How could he say no when you looked at him like that? So sweet and begging that it nearly brought a tear to his eye to even think about turning you down.

“Y-you really want me to s-stay? You don’t think I’m weird or–”

You laughed, “I mean, you are wearing a bag on your head, I can’t lie and say that’s not odd but…” you trailed off as you handed him the glass of wine. “We’re all a little weird right? I mean, I’m letting a guy I barely know have wine with me in my apartment with a bag on his head. Who’s weirder?”

Basil couldn’t help laughing. You made a good point, so he decided to try and relax, and the wine certainly helped. Three glasses in each and you were both feeling a bit more loose, but he was also feeling something else. While you were laughing and telling him about how annoying this girl at work was, your breasts were bouncing with every wild movement of your arms. He was mesmerized.

“-And when I tell you that’s all she ever does…are you listening?” The bag on Basil’s head shifted as he looked back at your eyes.

“Yeah, yes.”

You chuckled, looking down at your chest and back up at him, shaking your head.

“All you men are the same, just after one thing huh?” You asked, downing a fourth glass of wine.

Basil’s heart stopped in terror. No. No, you couldn’t possibly think that of him could you?

“No, no it’s the wine I’m sorry I was zoning out and I wasn’t even looking at them I…I’m so sorr–”

“I’m kidding. You think I would’ve answered the door when I saw it was you out there wearing this if I didn’t want you to look at me?”

Basil let out a half-hearted chuckle, trying to breathe again, “kidding, right…” he finished off another glass as well. It was then that he realized what you’d said. “You want me to l-look at you? Like…like you…” he gulped, “you want me to…”

You laughed, nodding and sighing at him affectionately.

“Basil, I think you’re a nice guy, I want you to look at me.”

His mind was fuzzy, and even with only one good eye, he could see clearly as you started to bring the straps of your tank top down. Either your self-esteem was so on the floor, and you’d take your top off for any man that gave you the time of day, or you were really into him. He didn’t want to get his hopes up only to have them crushed, so he took what he could get, and enjoyed the moment, watching you lower your top down, showing your beautiful chest off in a lacy bralette.

You couldn’t see the way Basil’s jaw dropped, or see the way the drool dribbled down his chin, but he couldn’t breathe again.

“I’m going to assume that you like what you see, even though I can’t tell what you’re looking at…” you raised your eyebrows.

“Yes, yes I’m sorry I’m just…wow…”

“Wanna feel ‘em?” You asked with a hiccup.

Could you get cuter? Your big, gorgeous eyes were looking at him from the other side of the couch, begging for validation. You really needed someone as pathetic as him to validate you? Someone so beautiful needed his reassurance to feel adequate? You were practically asking him to tell you just how much he loved your tits and wanted them. Who was he to deny you?

“Um…I…”

Before he could stutter any longer, you were crawling on the couch over to him, sitting on your knees, your chest perked up for him to admire. Basil’s cock had been at half mast for the better part of the hour, and now it was threatening to bust through the seam holding it back. With a shaking hand, he reached out, touching your breast underneath the thin fabric of the bralette. You bit your lip as his thumb brushed over your hard nipple.

“You have really big hands,” you said with a giggle that made Basil’s body spark with an electric shock.

“You like that? Big hands?” He asked, bringing his other hand to cup your neglected right breast.

“I do,” your tone was sultry and sweet.

A breathy moan escaped as his hands massaged your tits, taking his time to rub his thumbs over your peaks, feeling the way they got harder under the bralette. He pinched them, enjoying the way you whimpered when he did. You were so sensitive, he knew you would be, he could feel it.

He felt something else too, the unmistakable and insurmountable arousal growing inside of him and pooling in his groin. He cursed under his breath, squeezing your tits tight while he felt the heat, shooting in spurts, and wetting his lap, making a mess of himself…right in front of you. Basil froze, afraid to move, afraid that you would see how pathetic he was, blowing his load after only touching you for a second.

“Did…did you just…” you started, looking down at the dark, wet spot on his lap.

“I’m so sorry, this has never happened to me before,” he lied, trying to cover himself with his hands. “I’ll go, oh my–”

“No wait,” you say, putting a hand on his shoulder before he could leave. “Are you kidding me? That’s so fucking hot.”

That was it, the proof Basil needed to convince himself that you were all in his head. Though he usually couldn’t feel his hallucinations, not like this anyway. He would’ve kissed you right then, but he couldn’t. You still didn’t know what he looked like, and no matter how much of his odd behavior you were willing to accept, he couldn’t be certain you would accept his deformity.

“Can you bend over for me?” He asked, voice soft and pleading.

You bit your lip and nodded slowly, turning around and putting a throw pillow under your chest. Basil removed the bag from his face, letting it drop off to the side of the couch. He could see you much more clearly now, bent over so nicely for him, rear poised and ready for him to touch. He stood up and unclasped his belt, then pulled down his soiled pants and boxer briefs, discarding them on the floor.

“Can you promise me you won’t look?” He asked, holding onto your hips as he positioned himself behind you.

You giggled and nodded, “yeah, I won’t look, I promise.”

He leaned over you, “thank you,” he whispered in your ear, feeling your body shudder in response, “such a sensitive girl.”

You whined as he kissed down your shoulder, bringing his hands to your waist and holding tightly. He ran his cock between your ass cheeks, feeling the sweet friction they provided was going to set him off again so soon after he just came. You said it was hot though…

“I’m sorry, it’s coming again I can’t stop–ah!”

Basil moved his hips faster and faster until he was shooting heavy ropes of white all over your back, getting some on the couch. He felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment, despite your saying how much you liked it. You laughed again, wiggling your ass a little and rubbing it along his length.

“Such a needy boy,” you taunted, “get it in me next time.”

He furrowed his brow, running the fat tip of his cock along your slit. You still made him so fucking hard, no matter how many times he came, he could keep going as long as you were around. Basil watched your lips part, swallowing him whole until his pubic hair was brushing against your rear. He whined, feeling your walls flutter around him and hearing your satisfied sigh.

“Yes, oh wow, you’re f-fucking h-huge,” you said, gasping as though he’d been pounding you for hours, but he still hadn’t moved since he slid into you.

“You really like it? You think it’s big?” He pulled back, seeing how wet you made his cock until he slammed forward again.

You cried out, “oh god yes!”

Basil squeezed your waist tighter, finding a smooth rhythm that kept you wailing and drooling on your own couch. He watched you hold onto the arm of the couch, burying your face into the pillow and screaming into it like he was killing you. He pushed on your back, forcing you to gasp and groan, face being forced into the cushions.

He leaned forward, kissing your shoulder, “tell me how much you like it,” he whispered, “please, I need to hear you tell me how good I feel.”

“I-oh god I can’t-mm!”

“Please,” he begged pathetically, kissing your back again, “tell me it’s good, please.”

“It’s good Basil it’s…oh!”

He felt your pussy squeeze around him, and when he looked down he could see it throbbing while you gushed over his cock. You were incoherent, making high pitched whines as you continued losing yourself in the euphoria. He’d slowed his movements, trying once again to contain himself a little longer. It was clear you wanted more when you started moving on him again on your own, taking what you knew you needed.

“Basil,” you mewled.

He leaned into you again, “yeah?”

“I want to see you, please,” you said, voice pleading for the one thing he never wanted to give you.

Basil would give you his soul, his body, everything in his bank account in order to avoid letting you see his fucking face. He slammed into your hips, growing a little frustrated with your curiosity. Did you want to see it so you could mock him? So you could laugh at the man while he fucked you full? Why did you need to see him so badly?

“I want to see your face when you come,” you said as though you could read his mind.

Basil pulled out of you.

This was it.

He couldn’t keep hiding from you.

He sat back, feeling the cool leather of the couch against his rear.

“Fine,” he said coldly, feeling dread weighing on his chest, making it hard to breathe.

You turned around slowly until you finally met his gaze. Your lips parted slowly, eyes scanning over his face as though you were mapping it out, memorizing the details. As you leaned in closer, Basil turned his face away from you, shielding the deformity from your eyes as though it might make you hate it less. He could feel the tears welling, he was already anticipating your harsh words.

“Why are you hiding from me? Pretty boy,” you cooed in the softest voice, reaching out a hand and touching his scarred cheek, turning him to face you.

“W-what did you just say?” He asked, a tear spilling over and running down his cheek.

“I can’t believe you’d keep your beautiful face hidden from me like that,” you climbed over his lap, straddling his hips.

“Are you playing with me? Huh? What’s your angle? Are you going to go to work tomorrow and tell all your friends you fucked a freak?” He was getting angry, but trying to keep it from boiling over.

You giggled, “do you really think that lowly of me, Basil?” your face closed in on his and your lips brushed against the rippled skin on his cheek softly.

He choked out a moan as you lowered yourself on him, stuffing your cunt full of him once again. You liked his face? You really liked it? He threw his head back, hair falling out of his eyes as he looked up at you. He guided you as you bounced up and down on his dick, feeling it bruising the deepest parts of you. You brought your hands to the back of his head, holding onto his dark curls tight while you kissed him deeply.

“Mm, you’re so so-good-baby,” he growled lowly, “use me, use me to get off again, I want you to come on me again and again I–”

“Shh,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his, forcing your tongue past his lips, and the second he tasted you, he let out a whimpering moan.

He squeezed your hips tighter, intoxicated by the feeling of you, and the sounds of your wet pussy slapping against his lap. He started rolling his hips upward, feeling himself getting deeper and deeper with every pass. It was like your body knew he belonged in there, making room for him as it should. You let out a guttural moan, deep from inside of you, and Basil could feel your cunt starting to flutter around him again.

He latched his lips to your neck, and you immediately held onto both of his shoulders and lurched forward, hips freezing while your cunt contracted over him in waves. Basil came once again, cock throbbing while it filled your little hole with everything he had. He pulled your hips down, placing both hands on top of your thighs and holding you there while he rutted upward, sobbing as he did.

He couldn’t believe you let him take you. He couldn’t believe you called him pretty. Most of all, he couldn’t believe that when you were both finished, panting heavily on the couch as clarity set in, you didn’t call him an ugly monster and scream at him to leave your apartment.

“So you…was that…did I do alright? You liked it? You don’t think I’m hideous?”

“Basil…” you leaned in and kissed his nose, “you’re perfect.”

Miscellaneous Character Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#basil #stitt #basil stitt fanfiction #basil stitt fan fiction #basil stitt x reader #basil stitt x you #basil stitt fanfic #basil stitt fan fic #lightningface fanfiction #basil stitt oneshot #basil stitt one shot #basil stitt smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac fanfiction #lightningface fan fiction #basil stitt x f!Reader #basil x reader #basil x you #basil stitt headcanons

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baby-yongbok · 1 year

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hiii since you were asking for suggestions, may i request bf!chan being pissed by bumping into their s/o chatting with their ex? i’ve been thinking about this scenario for a while since i don’t know if he would play cool and then be mad for a whole week or would alfa the situation

Thank you for the ask, bestie! When I think of Chan seeing you talking to your ex my first thought is Jealous!Chan. I feel like he's a bit of a possessive person even if he doesn't really mean to be but he does it from a place of pure love and a bit of fear. I feel like he wouldn't know what to do with his emotions until some time has passed... You'll see what I mean lol anyway, Hear me out...

Jealousy, Jealousy

Word Count: 1099

Genre: Fluff with a sprinkle of angst? like just a tiny sprinkle

✨Masterlist✨

Chan wanted to surprise you. You had been having a rough time balancing work and classes lately so he wanted to do something special. He had it all planned out, he was going to get food from your favorite place and your favorite flowers to make you smile. He knew that if he went to a particular strip mall that he could pick everything up in one go and get home before you got back from studying. He crossed the busy street stepping onto the curb when he saw it. Honestly, he wished that he was hallucinating, he wished that maybe it was just a girl that looked a lot like you - too much like you.

Unfortunately, his wish wouldn't come true today. You stood there with your backpack hanging on your shoulder as you casually chatted with your most recent ex. The two of you didn't end on bad terms but that didn't matter to Chan, he didn't like the way your ex looked at you and ghosted a touch to your shoulder every time you would say something the slightest bit amusing. Everyone knew that Chan was a bit possessive but what he felt in this moment was a bit more than that, there was a small pool of anger bubbling inside of him that he couldn’t seem to control.

Before he knew it he was stalking towards you, shoulders back and chest slightly puffed out to assert his dominance. He reached the two of you before you even saw him coming, his hand possessively finding a home on your shoulder and pulling you back into him. He took you by surprise and from the look on your ex’s face he was quite taken aback too.

“Baby, I thought you were coming home after studying.” Chan says not completely looking at you. His gaze was semi fixed on your ex and the way his eyes scanned Chan’s frame, he hated every second that the two of you stood in front of him but what he hated even more is that you welcomed it.

“Oh, yeah I - uh just ran into an old friend. Chan this is -” You’re cut off by Chan’s voice, his tone assertive and uninterested.

“I know who this is.” He looked down at you with burning eyes and you knew exactly what that look meant, he was angry. “We should really get going, come on y/n”

Without another word or glance from Chan he tightened his grip on your shoulder and guided you away from your ex not even giving you the chance to say goodbye. It’s not like you would anyway, you knew better than to get on Chan’s bad side and since you already seemed to be there you didn’t want to push it.

“Chan what was -” He glared at you and you stopped mid sentence deciding not to try to talk to him just yet. This was a conversation to have at home and nothing in the world could explain how much you dreaded what was to come.

“So we just talk to our exes now?” Chan asked as he closed the door behind you both. You hadn’t even gotten to take both of your shoes off yet and the dreaded conversation was already beginning.

“Baby, we just ran into each other as I was leaving the cafe. He was literally telling me all about his new girlfriend and I was telling him about you, my lovely and very jealous boyfriend.” Chan’s face twisted at your statement. His arms crossed and his gaze was fixed on the hardwood floor for a second before he spoke up.

“I am not jealous, y/n” He stalked past you and took a seat on the couch avoiding eye contact with you. “I’m angry, I’m not jealous.”

You followed him, taking a seat in the free space next to him. “What exactly are you angry about?” You ask with furrowed brows. You lay a hand on his shoulder and smooth reassuring circles into it.

“I’m angry that you were speaking to him! I’m angry that he looked at you, that he smiled at you. I’m angry that you were standing there with him instead of being home with me… I’m.. I’m just..” Chan’s voice got smaller and smaller as he processed the words that were coming out of his mouth. A small sympathetic smile ghosted your lips as you allowed him time to process his emotions.

“Fuck.” He whispered sharply before laying his head back against the couch. “ I am jealous… aren’t I?”

“Yeah, baby, I think that you are.” You lay your head on his shoulder and his hand finds its way to your thigh giving it a tight squeeze that you know is meant to be apologetic. You appreciate it as the two of you sit in silence for a minute or two.

“I’m sorry…I’m not usually the jealous type I just… when I saw you talking to him it felt like all of my defenses went up and I just couldn’t stand the thought of him trying to get you back. My imagination went wild and I just didn’t want to lose you.” You shifted a bit, placing yourself in his lap and snaking your arms around his neck as he lifted his head to look at you. His lids were low and you could sense a bit of shame in his voice.

“I understand, Channie. I probably would’ve gotten a bit jealous if you were talking to your ex too, but that’s okay cause you know what that means?” He looked up at you with furrowed brows and shook his head. “That means that you love me and I love you too, more than you will ever know. People get jealous sometimes, it’s natural, we just have to make sure that it doesn’t consume us and we have to trust that our other half won’t hurt us.”

Chan shakes his head, taking in your words and processing them slowly. “ You’re right, y/n… I’m sorry for all of that. I trust you with all of my heart and I promise I’ll get better with that.”

“I forgive you, Channie, everything is fine.” You lean down, resting your head in the crook of his neck as the two of you hug and share some deep breaths.

“But like, next time I’d rather you walk right past him. Kinda like he’s invisible ya know?”

“Don’t ruin the moment, Chan. We were getting somewhere.” You smile against his neck and he lets out a faint chuckle.

“Okay okay, I’m just kidding… kinda.”

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flanaganfilm · 2 years

Note

hi mike, saw someone say your ask box was open and i came running! have you ever had any ideas as to how the crain family would be getting on now a few years later/what they're doing? it's always in the back of my mind wondering if creators also wonder about those sort of things themselves once their project has ended. thanks so much & hope you have a great day!

I do think about that. Quite a lot, actually.

The Crains took on lives of their own for me. I'd never written long form before, so it was the first time I lived with the same characters for that long, and for such extended arcs. Here's where I think they are, a few years later:

Shirley: I think that Shirley and her husband overcame her disclosure of infidelity. She'd been closed off for so long, after the series ended I think she found some peace in her life and opened herself up to her marriage. I think she also began to find kindness again. They ran the funeral home together, but Shirley found purpose in helping people handle grief and loss with empathy and kindness. Her oldest would be just about ready to start college now, and I think that would have her looking back and realizing that she always remembered her childhood as seemingly endless... but now she sees just how fast it truly goes by.

Luke: Luke stayed sober. He's six years into it now, and it's gone so well that he's also become a sponsor. That doesn't mean he's immune to the struggle, far from it. He still walks up to that edge sometimes. Oddly, it's in those moments that the "Twin Thing" kicks in... and he feels an inexplicable and complete sense of love. He knows that's Nell's, and that always pulls him back from the brink. He never did find Joey, or find out what happened to her. And sometimes he still wakes up with nightmares that he's on the floor of the Red Room, or that Joey visits him with her runny-egg eyes. But no matter how hard it gets, he feels what Nell feels for him... and that always pulls him through.

Theo: Theo and Trish got married, and moved far away from New England. They currently live in Portland. She still works with children, but enjoys a much smaller patient pool. She specializes in the kids who are hardest to reach, and she's sought after for her unique and uncanny ability to connect with them. She doesn't wear gloves anymore, but she still avoids the very crowded places. She and Trish take long hikes, grow their own pot, and travel frequently and spontaneously. They're considering a surrogate... and if it's a girl, they're going to name her Eleanor.

Steven: Steve and Leigh have two kids, and are thinking they might stop there. He never wrote about what happened at Hill House, but he still writes. Science fiction. Leigh recommended the genre as a way for him to focus on the future, not the past. He likes it a lot. It's pulpy, but it's earnest. He maintains Hill House, as it is his responsibility, but he doesn't enter the property beyond the gates. He has a rotating collection of people service the property itself, always during the day, and only for a few hours at a time.

Hill House stands quietly and silently in the hills. There is something different about it. Still the same energy, but without the malice. Steve assumes this is because of Hugh, Nellie and Olivia, who maybe curb the most malicious energies of the house from within. While shadows still walk in the windows at night, there are no living souls there to see them. Mostly, Steven imagines the spirits inside spend most of their days sleeping. And if they cannot sleep, he imagines Mrs. Dudley singing softly to them on the wind.

There is grief, for all of them. There are nightmares. Horrible dreams of moldy rooms and phantom hands. They meet twice a year, usually without spouses, to catch up and raise a glass to Nell, and their parents. There is a lot of healing still to do, a lot of therapy, a lot of introspection. But there is peace, too. There is love. There is forgiveness.

#the haunting of hill house #does this count as fanfic?#epilogue

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collectivecloseness · 1 year

Note

1) hey. You know i love you, right? & 45) how can someone as perfect as you, like someone like me? For Steve/reader please. With Steve then reader saying it

Prompts: 1) hey. You know i love you, right? & 45) how can someone as perfect as you, like someone like me?

(Notes: anon i got your follow up requesting alluring to the reader having depression as well, so tw for depression mention)

Steve Harrington x reader

You stood quietly on the sidewalk, swinging back and forth with your feet on the edge of the curb, as your boyfriend said bye to a group of his highschool friends. Specifically, a few guys he was on the basketball team with, and their girlfriends, who’d all bumped into Steve’s as he closed up family video, with his arm around your waist, ready to take you back to his for an evening of ‘borrowed’ movies and good popcorn.

But then his old teammates ran into him, all on their way to some club that didn’t care if people were one or two years south of being allowed to enter, and Steve had been swooped up into a conversation with them. You didn’t mind it, and he still kept his hands warmly around your waist the entire time. Until you’d given him a small smile, and politely stepped away in the middle of the conversation, so he wouldn’t ask. Until the girls started drooling over Steve Harrington again.

Apart from one of the couples who’d been dating since Sophomore, you’d never seen any of the girls with these particular guys before, in fact you were certain two of them had swapped boys, so it didn’t surprise you they were absolutely fine batting their eyes at Steve. Who by all accounts, even if he’d lost his king status, was still highly wanted.

Steve soon wrapped up bro hugging his former teammates, and as they all cheered goodbye to him, maybe a pre party or two in, Steve wrapped his arm over your shoulders, and finished their rallying cry for Hawkins High back between cupped hands, apologising quickly to you, still with a grin on his face as you flinched away from his loud cheer in your ears. Only smiling a little up at him for that though. That you could smile playfully about. The thoughts in your head were more damaging.

“Okay! Shall we get moving?” Steve clapped his hands together, grabbing his keys back from his pocket and swirling them around his fingers, as you both walked to his car.

Inside you turned the radio up, before you’d even done your seatbelt. To which Steve just smiled at you, singing lowly along to the lyrics he knew, and a few he was definitely misunderstanding, as he mindlessly bopped his hands on his steering wheel.

You were glad for the distraction. At least it meant you didn’t have to talk. You saw those girls, a few of whom rumours had spread Steve had dated before, well known, popular, dazzling, all dressed up, make up and hair amazing, bright smiles glimmering at Stevie. And you saw how animated he got when his old clique came rolling up, how pumped he was to be hanging out with them like it was old times, even if it was only for ten minutes.

Like Robin, who occasionally snarked Steve over this fact, he hadn’t really noticed you in his high school days.

It wasn’t anything malicious, and it wasn’t like you were invisible either. You just didn’t really connect until Steve started working at family video, which was fine! You hadn’t paid Steve more attention than a regular classmate, and than understanding his status as king, either. And then with Vecna, you two became even closer.

But it still sometimes worried you. A cold, sludgy feeling creeping from your stomach, up through your chest and throat like bile, that you weren’t good enough for Steve. And that, horribly, one day, he’d know it too. Which is why, even though Steve knew about your depression, and had glimpses into your self-doubts, you hadn’t exactly told him this point blank. For fear as soon as you said the words, he’d take a step back, and see it for the first time clearly himself.

Steve quickly pulled up to his home, and you two got out of the car together. Steve quickly making his way to your side, humming the rest of the Madonna song lost with the cars engine, as he placed his hand on the small of your back, leading you up his pathway. You loved how often he touched you, even at simple times, Steve always liked to be touching you.

Steve turning his head to you now however, made you try to fight back a grimace, because you could tell what was going through his head.

“Hey. You’ve been pretty quiet the entire ride.” Steve lightly begun, his hand sliding further along your back as he walked you to your front door.

“Really? Sorry. Hadn’t noticed.” You quickly covered up, melting just a little when Steve breathed out a laugh through his nose, and you could feel his lips smiling as he kissed your head. “Don’t need to apologise. Just saying.”

You squeezed his waist with your own hand holding onto him for a few seconds, unceremoniously dropping simply as Steve had got the door open. Holding it for you as you came in, double locking the door with the bolt he’d put in after his first experience with the upside down, before kicking his shoes off in tandem with you, throwing his vest onto the coat rack.

Steve sighed loudly, wiping his hands over his face, before stopping in front of you. Pressing both hands to your waist as he leaned over and pecked a few kisses to the centre of your head. “Mmh. Food now?” He asked, to which you only nodded. Loving Steve’s loving gestures, but also feeling bad in yourself about him holding your waist

He soon let go, looking like he wanted nothing more than to collapse into the couch, which you did yourself, but walking over to the wall his phone was on, and scouring through the neat pile of take out menus. “I’m thinking pizza, we can get it from the place you like this time. Sound good babe?” He smiled over at you, batting the menu against his hand and the leather of his watch.

You didn’t jump up with the fact that Steve always bitched about ordering pizza from his much preferred restaurant usually, and you didn’t turn around with a smile, you didn’t even say yes. You just threw a thumbs up behind your back, and your eyes scoured for the tv remote without moving your body. Fuck this would seem more natural if you just switched on the tv right then. But maybe Steve wouldn’t notice.

Big no.

Steve dropped the menu and walked over to you, sitting down on the sofa cushion closest to you, and tried to snatch your eyesight.

You just couldn’t do it.

“Hey? Is everything okay hun?”

“Mmhm.”

Fuck. You were doing a shitty job. But you couldn’t help it. You felt grey. Like just your whole body was grey. And cold. And disgusting. As much as you desperately wanted to act like everything was normal, you just didn’t have it in you. You couldn’t even look at Steve, and you didn’t even really know why! God everything felt awful right now, just because some of Steve’s old friends had to remind you all of the reasons you thought you didn’t deserve Steve. Not that they were buried deep anyway. You always thought it was true. And God Steve was leaning closer to look at you and you just wanted the earth to swallow you whole right now so you could avoid this!

“I love you.”

That was all Steve said. And while the spike through your heart this time was a nice one, rather than a jagged painful one, it still felt wrong. Like Steve saying that was just wrong. Not that you didn’t believe him, you knew he was a true guy. But it made you feel worse, even less capable of looking at him. No matter how hopeful and genuine his tone was then.

You just turned your head away, your body inching in on itself, the sofa shuffling in the quiet of the room. And oh, if you could have seen yourself, you knew that would set alarm bells off in Steve, it would in anyone. And you didn’t see Steve’s face dropping.

“Hey. You know I love you, right?” Steve was concerned, confused. He shuffled closer to you, knees on top of your curled up thighs, his warm hand hovering over the space between where your back was arched away from him, and the sofa, before deciding to place it there. Angling his head as much as possible to try and get you to look at him, with his eyebrows scrunched sadly, and his deep brown eyes troubled.

You didn’t turn back at him, you didn’t even look at him. Steve could just hear you breathing louder now, breaths flowing from your mouth.

“Baby you know I love you?”

Steve was worried. He tried to smooth his face just a little, wanting to be the strong one for you, but letting his concern for you prevail clearly, even if you weren’t looking at him now. He half wanted to grasp your chin and tilt you to look at him, his hand certainly brushed against your cheek enough for his movements to flutter there. But instead Steve changed course, easily jumping from his seat on the sofa, and landing right in front of your feet. Resting his hands on your knee, head level with yours, and always bobbing, following you, just a bit under you, silently pleading for you to look at him. He had half a mind to jump onto the end of the sofa in front of you and squeeze in with you, if he didn’t worry about crowding you and making things worse. Steve just wanted you to talk to him.

And he got what he wanted. His pink lips dropping wider as you finally turned your head to him, and he saw your watery eyes. His hand immediately shot to your cheek again, his thumb rubbing your apple as you cried, his face miserable as he watched you sniffle, desperate to be close to you, to fix this.

“But... why?”

Your head felt too full, too fuzzy with unnerving thoughts to really untangle this web. You just wish someone could do it all for you. Without wanting to put that pressure on Steve. You kept your face in his hand, but you didn’t move far into it. But now your eyes couldn’t move off of Steve’s, and you found it a similar problem. Because you couldn’t stand to see how sad you were making him.

“Why what baby?” Steve asked caring, rubbing your cheek with one hand, always shifting on his legs, and periodically squeezing your hand with his other.

“How- how can someone as perfect as you, like someone like me?” You forlorned.

Steve’s eyes widened in shock, a little glossy themselves now, and he grasped your hand tighter, his thumb quickly wiping away any tears that fell. “Hey y/n how could you think that? I love you. You know that. Why would you think that sweetheart?”

“Because I s-saw your friends. I saw how well those girls look after themselves, how liked they are, and I know the girls you used to date back in highschool-“

“Baby that was highschool.” Steve interrupted, but you just squeezed his hand back.

“I don’t... I don’t...” you were scared to say it. You didn’t want him to think it, you didn’t want to shatter the illusion, you didn’t want Steve to see you that way, you didn’t want Steve to think of you like that, you couldn’t have Steve look at you like that!

“Don’t what y/n?”

Fuck it. Your heart was beating too fast. “I don’t look like them! I don’t look like someone you’d date, I don’t act like people as cool as your friends, I’m not as cool as them, I’m not as cool as you! I’m not anything. I’m not anything compared to all that. I just... you could do so much better, and I’m so so scared that you’ll realise that and leave me and I’m sorry for keeping you away when you deserve better but I love you and I don’t want to-“

A large sob overtook you, and your eyes widened for a second as you realised everything you’d just said in the second your body forced you to breathe. And you collapsed your face into your knees, your hands covering your face, as you sobbed into your legs. Distraught with what you’d just said.

The whole time Steve rubbed your back. Shushing you, but you couldn’t hear it. Not over your own sobs. You dreaded to see his face, to see him thinking over what you just said. And when you eventually had to look up, Steve was going to see your face at arguably its worst. Heated, eyes red, blotchy, swollen, hair a mess, nose runny. You didn’t want to look up, you didn’t want to face Steve, you couldn’t lose him.

Even if sometimes it felt like you were selfish for keeping him. Because you were so sure he could do better than you.

Steve kept holding your hand, the one hiding the side of your face, but the one he hadn’t let go of the whole time. And he kept it as he moved, no longer in front of you. Something you were aware of, so much it subconsciously stifled your cries a little, because you were trying to listen to where Steve was moving, too afraid to look up. But then you felt him right by your side again. And before you knew it, Steve was moving you over onto his lap, without any resistance from you, and you cried as your face was placed against his chest. A fresh wave of sobs overtaking you as Steve cradled you to his chest, his strong arms scooping you up comfortably onto his lap, as he held you. Rocking you. Gently, warmly, lovingly. You didn’t even hide your face with your hands, you didn’t have to.

You just cried into Steve’s chest, able to smell him from your nostril that wasn’t blocked, and able to feel him all around you. Able to relax because his chin was tucked into your hair, so at least one of your fears was quashed, he couldn’t look at you like that. Your sobs quiet, but hiccuping into Steve, letting your boyfriend hold you, and letting him comfort you.

“Baby...”

This was it. Your sobs stopped in your throat like sick, silent as you waited to hear what he had to say in that careful tone.

“...you know I know you’re beautiful right?”

A steady breath left you. Just looking up at him. His face upset, but warm. His hand lovingly stroking over your face, getting those hair strands away from your sticky cheeks, his other hand soothing on your back.

“You know I can tell how gorgeous you are. I see it everyday.”

You slowly tried to hide in Steve’s chest, but his hand warmly spread from your cheek across your neck, and it made you roll it in how good it felt, head lolling flatly onto Steve’s chest. Smushed, you were sure, but way too comfortable for you to move. Especially when your wet eyes and heated form made you feel so sleepy. Especially when Steve made you feel safe enough to doze on.

You sniffled, uncaring and not self conscious about it, as you snuggled into Steve’s torso, because he had such a way of holding you so comfortably. “You’re just saying that.”

“Uhhh no.” Steve responded, in an almost bitchy voice, which usually got you to laugh when he was like that. Instead, you just looked up at him with eyes that looked so big, glossy under him like this.

“Babe, you’re a hottie. Do I not say that enough? Dustin makes vomiting faces at me all the time when you’re not looking when I say it.”

Okay he got a giggle out of you there. Your heart still thumped though, uncertainty making it’s home in your brain as it always did. Luckily Steve Harrington was an expert at speeches.

“You’re a smoke show. Suuuuper charismatic. You are the quintessential apple of my eye.” He kissed your head, then again because he couldn’t resist, and he saw your hand reaching up, lightly playing with the shirt gripped to his chest.

“I mean, you remember that night I didn’t want to take you to Robin’s party because I swore someone was going to steal you away, and then you suggested I wear something as hot as you were so that way you didn’t stand out.”

A small giggle slipped past your lips. And Steve’s fingers waggled slightly into your waist, making you dodge away and quickly grab his hand, although not caring that he was touching your waist anymore. You just brought his hand back up to between his chest and yours, and played with it. Listening to Steve as you just looked at his hand, watching his fingers go as you toyed with them.

“I’m still terrified of someone scooping you up. Away from me.”

Now you looked up at Steve. Your cheek was pressed into his chest, and even though he was smiling at you, his eyes were flickering down like yours had been earlier. A hint of hurt betrayed in them. “You know.... you know I- I struggle with my own self doubts too. You help me with them all the time.”

Steve only had to lift his stolen hand, to be able to kiss the knuckles on all of yours. His eyes flickering to you with some playfulness, but soul still there. “And I’d be a bit of a shitty boyfriend if I didn’t know your own personal demons too, since you help me with mine all the time. And I know you know it’s brave to do so, and I hope you’d know that I’d never be upset with you for having them, like I’d leave you or something. Because I’m not gonna magically think it’s true just because you say something that’s frankly absurd about yourself.”

You just looked at Steve awed. Your heart still, your whole body and mind at ease. The storm was over, and you were just enamoured with Steve. Just taking in everything he had to say, as he held you. Tears dry and itchy at your eyes, only to be pushed away like Steve had magically known of it the second you felt the discomfort. He never let you feel even the slightest of that.

“And considering how I’ve seen you fight literal demons, I’m sure you look just as hot battling mental trauma than with blood splatter and sweat all over you.”

You laughed loudly this time. Feeling proud in yourself that you got Steve to smile again too, laughing along with you. As his hands cupped your face, feeling your laughter in your cheeks, and swatting away any loose strands of hair, watching you laugh like you were the most beautiful sight in the world.

Yeah. You leaned your head against Steve, looking up at him with nothing but love in your eyes, and seeing it reflected right back at you, before having your face brought up for a kiss. You’d get through this with him. It had to be easier than actual demons, after all.

#Steve Harrington/reader #steve harrington hurt/comfort #Steve Harrington angst #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington drabble #Steve Harrington #stranger things #3.2k

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thepreybecomespredator · 1 year

Text

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ TAXI MASTER PEE GUY X GN! READER

{CW/s: Suggestive, He pisses in your mouth lol

{A/N: I only posted this here because ao3 was being a bitch and wouldn't let me log in my acc

☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠◉☠

I slide into the driver's seat of my car, the familiar scent of leather and gasoline fills my senses. I adjust the rearview mirror and took a moment to breathe in and out. I start the engine, feeling the power surge through the vehicle. And so, I began driving.

A notification pops up on my taxi app, indicating that I have my first client of the day. I confirm the pickup location and start navigating towards it. As I approach the destination, I spot a man standing on the corner, He was holding his crotch with both of his hands as he clenched his thighs together. The man had an an expression of relief as he saw me pull up to the curb, and he ran towards my taxi.

His eyes meet mine, and I offer him a warm smile. He opens the car door and slides into the passenger's seat. "Help me.. I really need to pee.." The man blurted out, his voice being laced with desperation.

You started driving, only to park your car into a nearby space as an idea had randomly popped into your head. "Actually.. I have another way for you to empty your bladder.."

"How so? I really need to go, can you please tell me?" His voice rises in pitch towards the end, conveying the mounting tension and genuine need for your response.

You stood up from the car seat, making your way to where the man was currently sitting and kneeled down infront of him, positioning your head in between his thighs. "I'll let you use my mouth to do so.. How does that sound?" The man's eyes widened in surprise and embarrassment at your offer "I, uh, I don't know.. that's kind of weird.."

Your voice, typically patient and polite, now took on a tinge of annoyance. "C'mon, Do you want me to leave you somewhere and let you piss your pants?" He quickly shook his head in refusal. "No, no! Please don't do that! I-It's just, I don't know.. not something I've done before.." The man's voice trembles slightly, revealing his nervousness. "Good.." You slowly unbuckled his belt, revealing his boxers as you began to slide it down aswell; Which shows his throbbing cock smeared with pre-cum. The man felt his face go hot with embarrassment as you exposed his bare cock. He looked around nervously, hoping that no one else could see what was happening through the window.

You shoved his hard member right into your mouth, taking all of it without hesitation as you bobbed your head up and down his dick. The man gasped loudly as he felt your mouth wrap around his cock. He tried to pull away at first, but the sensation was too good. With each movement of your head, he felt more and more aroused. Despite his initial reluctance, he began to moan and enjoy the sensation of your mouth working its magic on him. "Oh god.. that feels good.. I never thought, uh, I never thought.. ah.."

You felt him piss inside your mouth as he finally couldn't hold it in any longer, The hot liquid filled your mouth and you swallowed it, You continued to suck and swallow as he emptied his bladder.

"Mmm.. so good.. thank you.." The man blurted out while panting like a complete animal, His cock pulsing from finally being able to release.

#cw piss #cw piss kink #taxi master x reader #taxi master pee guy x reader #pee guy x reader taxi master #one shot #gender neutral fanfic #gender neutral insert #smut fic #x reader smut #gender neutral reader #gn reader #thepreybecomespredator

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tblsomedoodles · 2 years

Note

I got another idea and ran with it.

Donnie hated that he could see the future. It wasn’t because it was troublesome, or he saw things that would scar any normal person, but because his visions were all useless to him. He couldn’t use any of the information he got in any sort of productive way. Leo’s visions he could use to plan, since Leo’s visions were about disasters to come. The knowledge of what Mikey was going to make for breakfast was just useless. Knowing what he was going to get for a present was annoying. Seeing the good things that were going to happen never helped them on missions, but knowing that Mikey was going to sprain his ankle, or that Meat Sweats was going to try and poison an entire tv channel? That was important information to have.

Donnie hated his visions to the point where, if it were up to him, he would have never shared his ability with anyone. However, fate was a cruel mistress, and Donnie managed to get stuck in a particularly bad waking vision without even noticing it. According to Raph, the vision had left him comatose for several days. Raph had also asked what the vision was about, but Donnie had refused to explain it.

He wasn’t withholding the information because he was embarrassed, or felt like the others wouldn’t understand, what with his emotionless bad boy image and all, but because the vision was useless. Well, visions. Donnie hadn’t been in a loop, seeing the same vision over and over again, but was instead coasting through multiple, falling deeper and deeper into his vision state as the minutes passed. Inside the visions, time was meaningless, as some went by faster then others.

However, even with the time jumble, Donnie hadn’t realized he was stuck in a vision until he had heard Raph trying to talk to him. His biggest brother’s voice had sounded like the equivalent of tv static, words blended together into an indiscernible hum, but the simple act of hearing him at all from somewhere other then directly around him, had almost snapped Donnie out of the trance he was in.

Almost.

It wasn’t until Donnie felt Leo’s presence afterwards, again affected by the nothingness of time, that he was able to pull out of his vision. His brothers had been extremely excited, and clingy, when he was finally fully conscious, and it was nice, but Donnie had only been able to be annoyed at the time.

A part of him wanted to return to his vision, floating into the sea of good fortune and joy he so desperately craved in life, and a part of him was happy to be back with his actual family. However, the largest part was just filled with annoyance. He had been plagued with visions for three days, and not a single thing in them was useful to him in the waking world. He saw Mikey cooking, Raph getting a new bear, Leo winning some competition, his father saying that he was proud of Donnie, Draxum joining in on celebrating some holiday, and all kinds of other stuff. A brain full of useless crap.

Even months later, Donnie refused to talk about his visions. “It will spoil the surprise. If I tell you then you may mess up a good thing. It was just Mikey cooking something again.” None of them were really lies, but Donnie was positive his brothers picked up on his reluctance, especially since they eventually stopped asking.

No, the one with useful visions was his twin. Leo always saw useful things in his visions. Leo was a doom prophet, blessed to see the bad that was coming their way. Donnie was just a soothsayer, cursed with the useless good. Leo didn’t like sharing his visions either, but Donnie had a way around that reluctance. When Leo’s insomnia had gotten worse, and he was awake more times then asleep, Donnie had created him a dreamcatcher. It was a small device, and worked as a white noise machine, but that was just the secondary purpose.

It’s primary purpose was to record Leo’s dreams. The deceive had been created in hopes of finding out a trigger to Leo’s countless nightmares, a way for Donnie to curb behaviors to grant his twin more peaceful dreams, but Donnie had stumbled on facts he had tried to deny for months. Leo’s dreams, no matter how bad, had a habit of coming true. Once it was determined that he was a seer, Donnie switched gears and began studying Leo’s dreams, finding ways to prevent disaster.

That studying led Donnie to learn two things.

One, Leo’s visions didn’t happen in a timeline format, and instead bounced around, very rarely going in order. This added more work for Donnie, as he had to learn the behavior patterns of the bad guys. However, it was a positive, as it became easier to best them in fights.

Two, sometimes the future was set in stone. Whatever forces decided on how the world worked, also decided what things absolutely had to happen. Like the Kraang for example. No matter what they did, Donnie was 100% certain that the Kraang had to happen. As did their first trip to the Hidden City, and the return of Shredder. Donnie however, had yet to determine if the creation of him and his brothers was one of those fixed points as well.

Regardless, none of it truly helped him with his current task, which was the creation of a device intended to temporarily neutralize the regeneration powers of that… worm they sometimes fought. Donnie wasn’t really sure how the worm man generated a doom dream, but it was better to be cautious in his books.

Donnie was in the middle of some less important circuitry when there was a knock at the entrance to his lab. Donnie pretended not to hear it, hoping that his restless leg would be taken as him listening to music, but it seemed that even music wasn’t going to ward off the unwanted visit of his twin.

Leo entered the lab after his second, louder knock, and planted his feet on the other side of Donnie’s desk, where Donnie had no choice but to acknowledge him.

“Sigh, yes dearest brother? What can I help you with, since I am obviously working on nothing important. Also, that was sarcasm, I am very busy, please go away.” Leo was quiet for longer then usual, and Donnie sighed again, this time with his breath and not his words. “What’s up Nardo?”

“I need your help.” Leo’s voice was significantly quieter then usual, and Donnie stopped his work, turning his full attention to the turtle in front of him. His goggles focused on the new visual target, scanning his brother’s physical state.

Bags under his eyes, darker then usual. Shallow scratches on his arm, surrounding area darker. Mask tails uneven. Breathing heavy. Rapid eye movement. Shaking. Shifting weight. Avoiding eye contact. Tear trails on cheeks.

Donnie put down his tools and pushed up his goggles before standing up, offering his arms for a hug. Leo hesitated for only a moment before stepping into reach, wrapping his arms under Donnies, and along the top of the purple turtle’s shell. Donnie held his brother for a moment, before noticing the shifting of his brother's hands as they tried to find a good place to rest. Donnie sighed once more and hit the release mechanism on his battle shell, letting it fall off before returning to the hug.

The two embraced for, what Donnie perceived as, an eternity before Leo stepped back, pulling out of reach of his twin. “Don I,” the slider took a shaky breath before finally looking at Donnie directly. “I had a really bad vision, and I don’t know what to do.”

Donnie thought, studying his twin’s face. Their embrace seemed to have brought new tears to Leo’s eyes, and while he was looking directly at Donnie, Leo’s eyes were still distant. “I’m guessing you need someone to plan out a reaction?”

Leo started off nodding, before shaking his head. “I mean, yes but no? A plan would help, but I need my twin first. It was… I don’t… I can’t…”

Donnie held up a hand, trying to give his brother a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about telling me. What do you need from me?”

Leo looked around, before his eyes went to his feet. “Can we move out of your lab? I just need to be near you.” Donnie nodded and turned to pick his shell off the ground, intending on putting it away. “Is it okay if I ask you to leave the shell off?”

Donnie nodded. “I was just about to hang it up to charge. My room or yours?”

“Yours is quieter, and the others leave you alone.”

Donnie gave an affirming hum, hung up his shell, and turned to his brother, raising an eyebrow when he saw that Leo had not moved. “Are you coming?”

Leo shook his head as if shaking off a thought, before nodding. “Yeah, let's go.”

The two turtles crossed the lair towards Donnie’s room, when the soft shell noticed no one else around. “What time is it?”

“Two thirty-eight in the morning.”

“Is it really?” Donnie made the statement, regardless of not wanting the answer. If the lair was dead, and it was that late, it meant Leo had just woken up from a vision, and immediately went to Donnie for comfort. That told Donnie more then anything else about his twin’s state.

Donnie flopped down on his bed as dramatically as he could when they arrived, pleased with the chuckle it earned from Leo. He rolled so that his body was parallel to his bed, and patted the bed. Leo hesitated for a moment, and at first seemed like he intended to take a spot next to his twin, but instead took a spot on top of him, laying on his stomach as well.

Donnie grunted, wiggling to shake Leo into a better position. “Get off you, you way a ton!” Leo snorted, so Donnie upped the dramatics. “What are you, a turtle or a magic hippo? I’m gonna be a pancake because of you!” Leo hummed, muttering a want for pancakes. “Lucky you, Mikey’s planning on pancakes soon. Unlucky me, that will only make you heavier.”

“Mikey’s making pancakes soon?” Leo shifted to put his chin on top of Donnie’s who snorted.

“Yeah, strawberry chocolate chip I think. Could you maybe not try and cut my head with your stupid sharp chin?”

“Oh! My favorite!” Leo sat up, and Donnie groaned at the sudden shift in weight.

“Okay, I didn’t think this could get worse, but you made it worse. Get. Down.” Donnie grunted, shaking around to force Leo into a spot that didn’t crush his lungs. Leo laughed, and Donnie paused, thinking. “Wasn’t the last time he made those around the time we found all of those fireworks?”

Leo laughed harder, and Donnie guessed he was nodding with the way the bed shook. “Yeah! Remember the one that went off in Splinter’s room? Oh he was pissed! It was amazing!”

Donnie nodded, twisting onto his side, which knocked the slider off him, sending him into the wall.

“Ow Donnie!” Leo huffed, and sat up, mirroring how Donnie was now sitting, legs folded, and hands holding feet together. Donnie found the position to be extra helpful when he needed to move, but didn’t want to get up. The two rocked in sync with each other.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Leo clammed up again, and Donnie smiled. “That’s okay, I needed to check. If you want to talk at all, you always can. Otherwise, you don’t have to tell me anything.” When Donnie had determined that the silence had gone on too long, he spoke up again. “Do you want to know what Mikey gets Draxum for christmas?”

“How do you know what he got? There’s no way Mikey has already started getting things!” Leo leaned forward, fingers tapping on his feet.

Donnie shrugged, trying to force the information to fit into what would be an acceptable state of unimportance. “I saw it in a vision. He gets him socks. Not just any socks though, wool socks, with sheep on them.”

“Wool socks with sheep? For the sheep man? Oh that’s good! Tell me something else!” Leo was bouncing now, which was good. If Leo was bouncing, he was happy. Donnie rocked backwards, leaning his back against the wall. He adjusted, and put a pillow between his shell and the wall, before speaking again.

“Casey is going to go absolutely nuts when it starts to snow. Apparently it never snowed in his timeline. Cass is going to teach him to play hockey, and if you think Cass is obsessed, then get ready for it being Brightspot’s biggest obsession.”

“Wait, even more then pizza and movie nights?”

“Even more. I wouldn’t be surprised if he skipped the occasional movie to go practice.”

Leo pretended to be offended in the most dramatic way he could. “Now that’s just crazy! How could hockey be better then ‘Pizza and Movies’? That’s blasphemy!” Leo clutched in front of his plastron, in the way an old housewife would clutch a pearl necklace.

“Blasphemy, good one. Where did you learn it?”

“Jupiter Jim comic.” Donnie nodded in approval, and Leo went back to acting dramatic. “We’re gonna have to have a serious talk with Little Hope then.”

“Little Hope?” Donnie tilted his head at the name. He knew that’s what Casey’s Leo had called him, but he also knew that he wasn’t supposed to know that.

“Oh, yeah, it’s just something I picked up.” Leo shrugged off the question, his nerves starting to show again.

Donnie leaned closer to his twin and whispered “it’s okay, I call him Brightspot.”

Leo chuckled, settling back into a more relaxed state. The two sat in the quiet for a moment, before Leo snapped his attention to Donnie. “I have to get something off my chest.” Donnie raised an eyebrow, expecting to hear about Leo’s dream, only to be unpleasantly surprised when Leo’s thing turned out to be a loud burp.

“Really Nardo? How civilized.” Donnie leaned back against the wall, and Leo smiled wide, standing up.

“I’m feeling better already. Thank’s Donnie.”

Donnie caught Leo’s arm as he tried passing by to leave the room, and Leo froze. “Do you want to talk about it?” Donnie watched a shiver go up Leo’s body, and wasn’t surprised when Leo responded with a ‘nope’ before darting out of the room.

Donnie waited on his bed for exactly fifteen minutes, the length of time it took Leo to sprint out a little energy and either portal off or return to his room, and stood. First, he went to his shelves, grabbing a pen and a sticky note. He wrote three notes, and hid them in the small area where his shell didn’t meet his skin. He then snuck into Mikey’s room, where he stuck a note saying ‘Please make Leo strawberry chocolate pancakes’ on Mikey’s mask.

Once the first note was placed, he snuck up to the surface, heading to April’s apartment. He placed the second note that read ‘Please bring Mikey strawberries in the morning’ on the inside of her fire escape window.

Then, Donnie moved onto his next stop. Donnie usually wouldn’t enter Run of the Mill unarmed and shell-less, but he was trying to move quickly, and didn’t have time to return home just yet. Once he was inside, he snuck up to the podium and placed the third note, which read ‘Leo needs an easy win.’

With all the notes placed, Donnie headed home, and checked on Leo when he returned. He looked around for Leo, and was happy to find him sleeping once more.

‘Now, time to see what that dream was.’

Donnie pulled out a tablet with a blue star engraved on the back, turning it on in order to look through Leo’s previous dreams. When he found the one he wanted, and watched it, dread pooling in his gut.

He watched it again, and again, each time growing more and more worried. If Leo’s dream was right, which they almost always were, then Donnie had to amp up security to the lair, and prepare for him, and his brother, to be snatched up, and dragged to the Hidden City.

This is so cool! I love the idea of Donnie "i don't like seeing the good things" Hamato leaving post-it notes to make sure those things do actually happen lol. I love this very much!

Thank yoU!

#asks #tmnt #rottmnt #seer twins au #ficlet

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maseyfilms · 2 years

Text

SILLY ME TO FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU — M.M19

summary. you know what they say, friends with benefits just work until someone falls in love, and unfortunately it already happened.

pairing. mason mount x fwb!fem!reader

w.count. 1.2k+

warning. angst, sad ending, some curse words, making out ? idk

a/n. i hate this, is short, but i might write a part 2 someday. not inspired in halley's comet by billie but i like the aesthetic idc

masterlist

your relationship with mason was kinda... awkward. you guys definitely weren't dating however it was not a one-time thing too, it was more like friends with benefits.

you met on your best friend's birthday, lauren, which turns out to be girlfriend of mason's best friend's, declan.

you relationship started friendly, some drinks with your common friends, birthday parties, until that day you met at a nightclub.

both of you so drunk it made you lose part of your memory, just coming back the next morning when you woke up totally naked in mason's bed.

and that was when your little thing started. whenever one of you needed sex, was just one call away, you both shagged.

the sex was just sex. no kisses. no hugs. no 'i love you's or 'your the best'. it was just like two strangers having sex and never seeing eachother anymore. the only difference was that beside the shagging, in other moments you guys seen eachother and act like normal friends.

and it's just like they say. friends with benefits just work until someone falls in love. and unfortunately it already happened.

god and you hated yourself so much right now.

being jealous was never something you used to feel, and being jealous of someone you weren't even dating was passing through the limits.

though it was painful to see mason talking with another girl in the club you and somefriends were hanging out.

the chatting between them was nothing but a friend talk but still, she was way more prettier and nice and...

you shook your head and close your eyes while drinking the last sip of the glass of whiskey you were holding. you shouldn't be thinking about this, you couldn't, even in pain you couldn't have this type of feeling with someone that's was never yours.

the alcohol was already going to your brain, which means it was home time.

saying goodbye to your friends you called a taxi on your phone and went straight outside. it was like 2AM or something, you were alone, drunk and kinda sad. perhaps you should stayed at home instead of going to the club.

outside was cold, dark and empty, except for the drunk people throwing up on the curb.

waiting for the cab and shivering from the cold wind, you felt a hand touching your shoulder, and instantly you turn your head back to find a really drunk mason with a lazy smirk resting on his face.

"heyy y/nnn! i didn't saw you inside! where you were, huh?" he spoke while he was trying to pull you towards him holding your waist. "you know, i called you last week but you never answered..." he pouted, then rested his forehead on your shoulder. you could smell the alcohol coming from this breath.

"i-... i was really tired that day, things weren't fine at work so, i slept earlier, sorry..." you lied. the things were good at work, although you were avoiding him, trying to figure out what was happening inside your mind, inside your heart.

with his voice muffled by your skin he whispered:

"i missed you, love"

and then you freeze.

he'd never had given you a pet name or something. and he called you 'love'. that feeling that was cutting you up inside was what he had decided to call you.

suddenly you thought you couldn't breathe. quickly breaking free of his grip and taking two steps back.

"are you okay?" he asked with a worried tone, oblivious to the weight of what he had just said.

"i'm..." you tried to say, but luckily your cab had arrived. you just ran and opened the door to get in, resting your head on the backrest and rubbing your eyes. you just had to clean your mind.

then two weeks passed, it was a saturday night and you were cuddled with your blankets and cushions when your phone started vibrating. reaching your hand to pick up the phone on the coffee table you saw the name you least wanted to see on that screen. mason was calling you.

you couldn't answer it, you wanted to but you shouldn't, so you just waited, hoping he'd just give up. but then it went to the voicemail:

"uhmm... hey y/nn. i know you don't... i feel you don't wanna talk to me, i don't know what i did but i'm sure you have your motives but..." he paused. you could hear his footsteps, going back and forth. "today's match went suck, i don't know if you watched it, probably not, though i... i miss you and, if you want to or... could you please come here? i'm in my flat... " he sighed and the voicemail ended.

that's how you ended up in his apartment door. sighing before knocking three times, instantly meeting mason's glossy and tired eyes. he was shirtless with only sweatpants and messy hair.

"hi." he said, moving away from the door for you to enter. you responded with a small 'hey' and entered the apartment.

"i'm sorry for the match today, i didn't watch it but by the way you said i could tell it was bad..." you confessed, shyly looking at your feet when he held the sides of your face and out of the blue kissed you.

it was a soft and sweet kiss but also needed. you both missed that so much, felling eachothers skin touching and kissing until you can't breathe anymore.

suddenly the kiss got deeper and hotter and both of you started to take of your clothes, what resulted in you two making out with in his lap, just in underwear and mason kissing all over your neck.

however, he reached your bra strap and sucked a small purple stain behind your ear. "i love you"

you freeze.

you could not be doing this, you brain was telling you to stop, that it would've been just like the other times, you both shagged then you go back to home and drown yourself in the shower, regretting what you have done. but your heart, your heart was telling you that he meant that, that he really loves you just like you love him.

still, this time you choose your brain, being hurt one more time because of that supid 'follow your heart' concept it wouldn't happen.

you stand up from his lap and started to reach out for you clothes, tears covering your cheeks while you looked down trying to hide them.

"i-i'm sorry, i didn't mean that i-" mason spoke, confused, getting up from the couch and trying to reach for your hand but you pulled away. when you where completely clothed you looked at him.

"that's the problem mason... you don't mean it" you sobbed as you wiped your tears with the sleeves of your sweater. "and the other problem is that, i do love you, and i mean it, i fucking hate myself for this but i mean it. i really, really, fancy you, but it's not reciprocate and that's oka-"

"that's not true, i.." he interrupts you reaching for holding your left cheek and wiping your tears with his thumb, however you hold his forearm and pushed it away.

"so tell me that you actually meant it..." you softly whispered while looking into his eyes. "tell me that you love me just like i love you".

silence.

"i...." he paused and sighed. "i can't"

hearing that, you stepped back towards the door and then a sad smile appears on your face.

"me too mase..." you added while tooking the door handle. "this" you spoke pointing to you and him with tearing eyes. "i can't"

then you leave. no goodbyes or call you later. this time you actually gone.

#mason mount fanfic #mason mount angst #fanfiction #angst fic #football fanfiction #football fanfic #football angst #mason mount masterlist #football masterlist #maseyfilms works

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ejzah · 1 year

Text

An Error in Judgment, Part 4

***

Hour two into their surveillance, and Deeks had started to get a little antsy. He was used to camping our for hours at a time on surveillance duty, but usually he had the wonderful distraction of Kensi, and his back wasn’t burning like he was being bitten by an army of fire ants.

He tried to discreetly rub against the car seat, as he watched for Tom Nelson, a suspect linked with the suspicious death of a former marine. Right now, he could use something a little more hands on to keep his mind off his worries, and the relentless discomfort of his healing burns.

“So be real with me, when did you really grow your hair out?” Sam asked unexpectedly, his upper lip lifted in a smirk that shows his dimples. “Because there’s no way you served as a public defender or made it through the police academy with that.” He pointed at Deeks’ hair, curled slightly around his ears and over his forehead.

Sam had been making an effort to keep the conversation going, which Deeks appreciated.

“Hate to disappoint you man, but I did,” Deeks said with an answering smirk. He shrugged. “When I interviewed with the LA court of law, they were willing to overlook my…eccentricities given my excellent academic record and their desperate need for public defenders. For the academy I trimmed it up a little, but I figured out how to slick it back enough that I could squeeze by. Then I moved into undercover work pretty quickly, where these kinds of looks are viewed as an asset and not a hindrance.”

Sam snorted, shaking his head. “Only you, Deeks.”

“You think Kilbride would like me better if I cut my hair?” he mused. He shared a glance with Sam, who looked doubtful. “Yeah, didn’t think so,” Deeks sighed.

“Like I said before, it’ll come with time. Kilbride just has to see you for who you really are.”

“Eh, well I wasn’t really counting on it.”

The bitterness returned in full force as he turned back to focus on the empty street before them. The talk about his hair had brought up memories of every other time he’d been mistreated because he didn’t fit with someone’s expectations. This situation was different in a way because Kensi was involved and Kilbride was accusing them of misconduct.

He was drawn from his thoughts by the arrival of a rickety gray sedan.

“Hey, I see some movement,” he said, sitting up as the car pulled up to the opposite curb. A short man with sandy brown hair emerged. “Yep, that’s our guy.”

Together, he and Sam slid out of the car, pulling their badges as they approached Nelson.

“NCIS,” Sam announced when they were a few feet in front of him. Nelson froze for a second in panic, and Deeks saw him the decision in his eyes a moment before he ran.

“Idiot,” Sam muttered as they took off after Nelson, Deeks following him down a tight alleyway while Sam cut to the left. As they emerged on the other side, Deeks leapt into the air, landing on Nelson’s back. They rolled several times over the rough gravel, Nelson struggling to grasp a gun at his waist as they came to a stop.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Sam called out, his shadow appearing over them a moment before he came into view, gun aimed directly at Nelson’s head. Growling under his breath, Nelson stilled, and Deeks cuffed him.

Sam helped pull the man to his feet, informing him of his rights as they

dragged him to the Challenger and secured him inside.

As he started to walk back to the passenger side, Sam stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder, his brows furrowed. “Deeks, your back is bleeding.”

***

A/N: Deeks angst and whump is my favorite flavor. Is that a weird thing to say?

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #Sam #mild angst #Deeks whump #Kilbride is the villain of this story #an error in judgment #part 4 #ejzah fanfiction

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thepeakexperience · 2 years

Text

Maribel (Final Version Part 7 of 7)

I left the mall wondering how I fostered a theft, and then I realized one of the IV drug users who lived along the tracks must have been following me. "I didn't want this," I said to myself. "I was only looking for Maribel." Outside, I sat on the curb in recoil, feeling waves of freedom and despair crash and take control of me. She's gone, I thought, and I took another breath. I had no answers but understood the need to keep moving.

I gathered myself and walked to Savers, a thrift shop in the plaza next to the rear entrance of the mall. Inside I looked at the jackets; they had some light ones but only a couple for colder weather. I liked the feeling of tucking myself into bigger jackets, even in the spring, so I asked the clerk if he had any more winter coats. He said he didn't. It was the end of the season, but a few might still make their way into the donation bin. I let him know I'd check back in a few days, and then I left.

I walked a quarter mile down the road to panhandle outside the 7-Eleven. I'd never worked this part of the city before, but it was right next to a liquor store, and I needed a drink. My head pounded from all the voices in the mall, and I could still hear them. "Get out of here!" I shouted. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

After collecting nearly a dollar, a police officer pulled into the lot to speak to me. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I'm trying to get some money together."

"You can't panhandle here," he said from the driver's seat. "This is private property."

"But I'm near the road," I told him. "I'm not on the property."

"The owner called, and he said you were making a commotion and scaring away his customers."

"I wasn’t–" I started to say but stopped short of arguing. "Fine," I told him. "I'll leave."

I walked slowly back to West Main to beg at the grocery store. On my way I thought about my parents, and I tried to remember how it was that I talked to my mom that day she called from Panama. I thought I talked to her on my cell, but I hadn't had a cell phone in years.

Just then I felt a chill up my spine as I thought I saw Maribel walking ahead of me. "Maribel! Maribel!" I yelled. I ran up to her, but as she turned, I realized it wasn't her. "Sorry," I said. "I thought you were someone else."

I stood alongside the road. When was the last time I really saw Maribel? I wondered. Was she even real?

#schizophrenia #psychosis #mental health #short story #original fiction #fiction

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chezzywezzy · 2 years

Text

Yandere Hush (3/4)

Word count ; 4.0k

*Edited.

Y/n raced up the steps. She couldn’t feel the majority of her body. The wind was lashing at her face, blinding her even further, but reached the door. It was ever so slightly open, but she threw it and slipped inside. She didn’t even bother locking it. Instead, she dove to the couch, hiding behind it. Her hearing aids had yet to even start working.

She crawled, trying to be careful not to make any noises. As she did so, the door was thrown open and the man stumbled in. He was at least relieved that she ran into the warmth of the cabin, but his mind was racing with the idea that they could warm one another up, cuddling in the sheets. But he also knew that it wasn’t possible if he couldn’t find her.

She was tired and she couldn’t hear anymore, unless if she’d made it upstairs to change her hearing aids. Either way, he had the upper hand. And both Y/n and him knew that. One reveled and the other trembled from the knowledge.

Y/n made it to the end of the couch. She readjusted herself to push against the end, and although the floorboard creaked, the man’s barking overpowered any sound she could have made in that moment.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are! I don’t have all night, sweetheart. I have work tomorrow night!”

Y/n, back pushed against the side, titled her head and peeked out. She covered her mouth to prevent a scream. He was hovering right there, standing in the center of the room with his crossbow equipped. She was starting to think it would’ve been a safer bet to just try and get another kitchen knife, but it was far too late to change gears and she just had to try and survive. There was a permanent sneer on his expression, and it was safe to say he was unhappy.

She pulled her head back. She tried to slow her breaths, even though she was panting for dear life. Her head fell back against the sofa and she clasped her hands together. Her knees were pulled to her chest and she attempted to shrink her body as much as possible.

Although she was unaware of this, the man peered behind the back of the couch. Y/n had moved form that spot a long time ago, so his suspicions were curbed. He began trotting around the kitchen, checking to see if anything was disturbed. He watched and waiting to hear even the slightest breath.

And, after realizing she probably went upstairs, he sighed. He was wrought with sleepiness and his wound was aching dully. He dropped the crossbow on the coffee table, eyes surveying the area. He then plopped onto the couch. Y/n tensed when she felt the movement.

He leaned back, one foot tapping against the ground anxiously. His fists were clenched, and in hopes that she’d hear, he called,” I killed that bitch that talked to you earlier, sweetheart. The old man wasn’t around, but I’ll get him next. They sure learned their lesson not to talk to what’s mine…” Just hearing his own words made insecurity flutter in his chest. If Y/n was his by default, she wouldn’t be trying to escape so desperately. But she’d learn. “…You’d better come out princess! I really don’t want to hurt you.”

The whole speech fell on deaf ears - literally. Y/n was already warming up ever so slightly, but she was also tired as hell. She was willing herself to stay awake, because if she let out even the slightest noise, he’d just have to peer over the side and there’d be an arrow through her skull or knee or shoulder blade; whatever the sadistic man saw fit.

She didn’t want to be reeling in pain. She didn’t want to be in this situation. And she especially didn’t want the kind neighbor to be dead for whatever reason. The man was a maniac, and his sights were specifically focused on getting her, with whatever that entailed.

The man was also quite exhausted. His arms were tossed over the back of the couch and he was leaning back leisurely. Or, as much as he could considering he was bundled up in so many layers. Unknown to him, Y/n decided to creep ever so slightly to the back of the couch. She pushed her weight off the floor with his feet and hands, scooting her rear end across.

Somehow, it was silent. But, in a moment, it wouldn’t need to be. The man’s eyes were just shutting and a snore escaped his lips. But then, he was rudely awoken by loud drumming against the patio door. He shot open, and much to his hidden glee, a middle-aged man stood there, bundled up in winter clothing.

He looked terrified. He was shivering, and his pale cheeks were tinted blue. He was balding and had white hair. He was identifiable immediately - not from just the picture frames scattered around the neighbor’s house - but from the ring that glinted on his finger.

A scowl stretched across his lips. Immediately, he snatched up the device, and realizing he didn’t have the strength to shoot him, called out,” Stop where you are! Where are you coming from?”

The man, in shock, raised his hands in defense. His dementia-riddled mind didn’t notice all the hints that he had the chance to run. In his mind, if they were a murderer, they’d be murdering; not lazing on a couch. The killer stepped forward into the center runway.

“I - I’m just looking for my wife!” he bellowed, voice shaky and wrought with age. “Is everything alright out here? What’s going on?”

With narrowed eyes, the killer lowered the weapon just enough. “Open the door and shut and lock it behind you. Now!”

The man gulped, listening to the orders. He didn’t dare ask anything else, because in his mind, it was the man who was staying in the lodge. His wife had texted him about there only being a woman, but as far as he knew, it was too unsafe for a young woman to be out all alone. Surely she’d brought a significant other along.

After shutting the door, he fished through his pocket. His wallet was inside, and he held it out. Feigning suspicion, he leaned forward, waving the crossbow near his face threateningly. He snatched the wallet in his gloved hands, looking over the driver’s license.

He nodded, lowering the weapon entirely. He tossed it back, and the man caught it with ease. The unsuspecting victim’s eyes glanced over the scene. The dresser and glass, the missing knife from the block, and the wound on the man’s leg. His brows furrowed in concern.

“Wh - what happened here?” he bellowed. “What happened to the woman living here?”

The man sighed, eyeing around. “There’s a break-in,” he explained calmly. “My wife is hiding upstairs in the bedroom. The asshole is still skulking around and we can’t call the police. Power’s cut. Car’s gone. We’re stuck here.”

His eyes widened. “Oh my god…! Oh no. My wife - have you seen my wife and son? They’re supposed to be somewhere! I couldn’t find then at home at all!”

His hands gripped his mouth in terror. He was already in his early sixties, and clearly, his mind wasn’t all there. The killer adored this. The family deserved it if they dared to interact with his idol, his love of his life, his everything. And he knew that he’d have the most fun fucking with the old man’s brain.

“They’re probably dead,” the killer grimaced. “This motherfucker - he tried to kill me. Stabbed me in the leg. Almost got to my wife, too. You live right down the street, huh? You should go and call the police.”

“Yes, yes, I should! Please, be careful. I - I’ll end them right this way.”

The man turned eagerly, gripping the door. He’d pocketed the wallet. And, as he gripped the handle, he suddenly let out a groan of pain. The killer took the chance to shoot his lower calf, and the man collapsed against the door. He turned and fell on his behind, clawing desperately at the arrow. He cradled his body, still letting out groans at the top of his lungs.

The killer put in another arrow with ease. The man was crying for help, but he wondered if the occupant of the house was dead. The dots finally connected, despite the convincing story the man had told. But his worries were dissipated as he saw a small head peek from behind the couch.

The woman Alondra mentioned. Of course. And she looked terrified. His eyes flitted back, hoping the killer hadn’t noticed. And he hadn’t, too focused on training the arrow toward the man’s chest. Pleading sputters escaped and he shook his head.

The killer snickered, tilting his head. A sadistic smirk stretched across his lips. “You better show yourself, princess, or the old man gets it !I’ll kill him, Y/n, just you watch. So get off your ass and get down here. Now!”

Y/n couldn’t see what he was saying. Everything around her was deadly silent. But, from how his finger was poised around the trigger and the man was pleading for his life, she realized she didn’t have much a choice. Even if she did reveal herself, he’d shoot. And if she just sat there, she’d be caught in no time. The old man had spotted her, and he most likely had a will to live.

But her guilt wouldn’t allow the innocent man to receive such a fate. The stranger was only a few feet away, and if she tried her plan… it was the only one where it was feasible to escape.

She pushed herself to her feet. As he peered over his shoulder in surprise, finger pressing the trigger, she leapt. A shriek escaped unknowingly, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Somehow, she’d brought the killer to the ground. He was tackled once more, and he let out a cursed of pain, not liking the pressure on his wound.

However, with one glance, she realized the man had still been struck. Hopefully, not deadly so, but there was an arrow protruding from his shoulder. He was sobbing his heart out, although he didn’t pull them out. She’d heard that was a bad idea and one would simply bleed out.

The man underneath her suddenly whipped her to the side, turning onto his back with a large grunt. Y/n cried in pain as her head hit the edge of the marble counter. She saw stars and darkness for a split second, but she actively fought the urge to pass out.

The killer reached out and yanked on her ankle. Her body slid further to the ground, and he was lying directly on top of the crossbow, the strings and wood digging into his back. Y/n pleaded for her life, kicking, but he caught her other ankle. Her legs were pulled over his chest.

“I don’t appreciate that very much, princess! You’re really giving me a run for my money!’

Y/n saw how his lips moved, and she wondered if he was threatening her life. Her eyes widened, and as the man sat up, twisting her torso awkwardly, she reached for the crossbow. She thought it would be simple to lift up with one hand, but it didn’t even budge.

“Up and at ‘em, sweetheart,” he groaned.

He forced himself to his feet, tuning out the old man’s cries entirely. By her legs, he began dragging her across the floor, further away from the scene of the crime. At the last second, Y/n’s hand latched onto the device. It was arrow-less to say the least, but she dragged it along with her.

She was so tired and the weapon was so heavy. It was just following beside her body as she struggled to get her other arm to reach it. She didn’t even realize how much glee her struggles gave the killer. Even when she was desperately fighting for her life, it was cute. Unnecessary, but cute.

He pulled her behind the couch. He dropped to his knees, straddling her torso. He leaned and reached for the weapon, but just as he did so, Y/n managed to lift it with both arms. She didn’t have much control of it from how drained she was, but she smacked it right into the side of his face.

The man groaned and his head collided with the wall. He didn’t lose consciousness, but Y/n wasn’t done. Next, she shoved the weapon into his chest. He gripped the guest bedroom doorway, but he fell back regardless. He let out a curse from how awkwardly his legs were positioned, and they jerked out to fix themselves.

Y/n dropped it onto her chest, using her free hands to pull herself back. Her body scooted, and as she made yet another escape, she pleaded,” Pl-wease! Stop thi-th!”

The man chuckled, even amongst the paint rain. Her hearing aids weren’t working, as that much was plain from how her words slurred, much to her unawareness. He flopped onto his stomach and pushed himself onto his knees. He grasped the couch to pull himself up, but as he turned, he realized Y/n had also recovered.

She picked up the crossbow, and although she sustained a prominent limp, she made a mad dash for the stairs. She had to have water, warmth, bandages. A safe spot he couldn’t reach her. And the only place she could think of was the upstairs bathroom.

The man was hot on her trail, and she didn’t need to hear to know he was taunting her. From his body language, she deduced he wasn’t doing too hot, either. He was tired and injured, more so than even she was. Her disability and the cold, though, was her downfall. And although she knew it was far warmer inside, it wasn’t warm enough. Her clothes were soaked to the bone with snow and she’d have to change at the bare minimum.

She made it to the door. She turned sharply, and the man collided with her back. He almost grabbed her, but she stepped inside the bathroom. Just as she intended to slam the door in his face, though, his hand went sliding through, pushing at it.

She abandoned the weapon to the ground, using the brute strength of her shoulders to push. He was pissed at how unwilling she was, but he also realized she was slowly overpowering him. Suddenly, the door went flying shut.

Directly onto his fingers.

A pained bellow escaped his throat and he pulled his hand back. It escaped, but the door had greatly dug into them. The nerves were trembling viciously and he fell flat on the ground. He cradled his hand, gritting his teeth. He was completely red in the face. And it wasn’t a good thing.

Y/n was quick to lock the door from inside. She was panting furiously, and immediately, she eyed the window. She ought to climb out, but she would physically die if she did that with what she was in now. She was soaked to the bone. And, as she glanced around, the only other options was a bathrobe and towel.

She squeaked, pulling the sopping sweater over her head. She abandoned it in the bathtub, and next was her pants and socks. She grimaced, seeing how cut up her foot was. It was a wonder she was doing so well with fighting against the man.

She pulled don the fluffy white bathrobe. And, next, she tied her hair up in a towel and shoved dry washcloths up her sleeves as extra layers. She tied a towel around her hips, and much to her joy, she discovered another pair of white slippers, although they were plain and open-toed.

From beyond the door, the man tried his best to recover. As he sat, he began fishing through his pockets for the lock pick. Furiously, he kept searching, but much to his dismay, it wasn’t there. He almost clenched his fist and punched the floor, but even just moving his fingers was a dutiful reminder of how banged up he was.

Y/n sure was doing a number on him, and he didn’t like that.

In his head, she was supposed to recognize him instantly. He dreamt of her every night, and he was certain the notion was reciprocated. But, with each injury and each tussle, that fantasy was slowly dissolving. He was desperate to get her where he wanted. He was sure once he had her, she’d realize her outrageous mistakes and beg for forgiveness and tell him she loved him.

Everything was going to be perfect. Every couple had their passionate spats, after all.

He stumbled to his feet. If not for the adrenaline fighting to keep him awake, he would’ve been dazed more than usual. He stumbled over to the door, banging on it loudly. “Y/n! Let me in, sweetheart. You know I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to hold you and treat you right, baby. You’re overreacting! Let me in!”

Y/n saw how the door thudded. She realized in that moment he’d lost his lock pick. It was gone. And that meant she was in the safest place in the house. The door was locked and there was another escape, namely the window. She let out a sigh of relief. The crossbow was sitting next to the toilet. She pulled the seat down. Already, she was feeling a lot better. If not for but a moment, she was safe.

As Y/n began searching through the cabinets for rubbing alcohols, bandages, and disinfectants, the killer was left to bang his uninjured hand into the wall. He was angry and frustrated, but that didn’t mean he was stupid. He knew it was impossible to touch anything with his other hand because the glove coverings for his fingers had fallen off. He couldn’t walk around getting his finger prints on everything.

He automatically assumed she’d hole herself into the bathroom for the time being. He stalked into the bedroom, eyeing every part. His heat beat erratically, and as he looked at the crumpled blankets, he couldn’t help but plop into it on his stomach. He grasped the pillow to his face, holding it close.

He huffed the scent in. It made sense that it smelt of her shampoo, lilac and specially tailored to maintain health and prosperity to her locks. He imagined that by tomorrow morning and for the rest of their lives, he’d be blessed with waking up to her smell. He’d be able to hold her close and feel every inch of her. He’d see her gorgeous sleep-stricken expression, and they’d share a morning kiss.

And he didn’t give a shit about if she was unwilling to accept her future with him. She’d accept it, whether she liked it or not.

After a moment, he rolled off and back to his feet. Just then, he noticed that sitting on the bedside table, was her spare hearing aids. His tongue swiped over his bottom lips and he was quick to pocket them. He observed the room for a few more minutes before he headed downstairs to tend to her wounds.

Y/n finished applying the bandage. It stung, to say the least. She couldn’t hear anything, but she knew damn well the killer was probably waiting outside for her to give in. She never would. So, wrapped up tightly in warm towels - enough to curb the nipping cold air that clouded over the house -, she sat. Her back was to the tub and the crossbow sat neatly in her lap. Her head kept nodding, wanting desperately to sleep. All of the adrenaline that kept her fighting was abandoning her further with each passing second.

And it truly was a shame that she was nodding off so quickly. Because if she hadn’t had her head fall forward for a brief moment, she would’ve caught the change in lighting as white flakes swirled into the room from the window. And how, not even a moment later, the flakes stopped in their path as the window shut once more.

Her head darted up as a snort escaped her lips. She eyed the door once more, tightening her grip on the weapon. Through pursed lips, she stared it down, unaware of the danger skulking behind her.

The killer was blissful as he realized she was dead tired. He’d grabbed a kitchen knife on the way out. He wasn’t an idiot; he scouted the place out during her sleep, keeping note of which window went there. And it astounded him that the window was open in preparation that she’d have to escape.

He followed the wall before stepping into the tub. He noticed the discarded clothes, the melted snowflakes puddling down the drain. His shoes squelched as he stepped inside, and for a brief moment, he checked that she didn’t hear it. Just to make sure that, somehow, an extra drop of water hadn’t flew to her neck from the movement.

She was still. She eagerly waited for anything to happen. But nothing did, and that scared her. He knew she was on the verge of passing out. He was biding his time. At least, that was what she thought until she felt a blade pressed to the soft flesh of her throat and a hand clamped down on her shoulder.

She gasped, wanting so badly to flinch. But she didn’t thanks to the looming threat. She didn’t have to look behind her to know the man was grinning sadistically. She was trembling underneath his hold, and he adored it. No more running away for her.

He crouched in the tub, balancing himself before he withdrew his hand. She didn’t dare speak, too petrified that even talking would flex her lungs too much and he’d slice her then and there. She didn’t want to die. And she was starting to think she was going to. The man was utterly unhinged.

And then, the towel was stolen from her hair. She gasped, hands abandoning the crossbow to feel for it. It was quickly tossed to the side, and when the blade pressed even further against her throat, her movements ceased. Tears slid down her cheeks and she could feel the man’s hot breath fanning against her cheek. She kept staring toward the door, though, knowing she’d become even more frightened if she looked.

And then, he removed the hearing aid from one ear. She wondered what he could possibly be doing. But, not even a moment later, it was replaced. With one press of the button, she could hear the whirring of the device and the blizzard outside. She squeaked, and she heard it.

She also heard the low cackle.

“That should do for now, huh?” he hummed from the opposite side. His voice echoed in the bathroom and Y/n flinched. “You know, babe, I don’t appreciate you fucking me up so much. I have a long shift tomorrow. And, for obvious reasons, I’ll be the breadwinner of the household.”

Y/n gulped, feeling his hand slide lower than the knife, just hovering right over her collar bone. He squeezed her neck tauntingly, and a dreamy sigh escaped his lips. Shivers rolled down her spine and she shut her eyes tightly.

“Why… are you doing this?” she croaked, voice dry and longing for water.

#yandere #x reader #x y/n #self insert #yandere x reader #yandere slashers #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #slashers #yandere hush #hush x reader #hush 2016 #horror movie #yandere oneshot #yandere horror #killer x reader #yandere stalking #yandere drabble

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captainmalewriter · 3 years

Text

Strange Smell

It's been about two hours since classes ended for the day. My car had broken down, so my step father was gonna pick me up after class today. I tried called him several times but he wouldn't pick up the damn phone. I was going to end up just walking home until I saw his pickup truck rolling into the parking lot.

I stood there annoyed as he pulled up to the curb where I stood waiting. I walked over to the passenger seat and opened the door to get in.

"What took you so-"

I cut myself off mid-sentence. I couldn't believe what my eyes were seeing, my step dad was sitting at the driver's seat shirtless.

It absolutely caught me off guard. I was just dumbfounded, I sat there in silence as my step dad drove us back home.

What the fuck was happening? I know my step dad well enough to know that he doesn't really like being shirtless so casually. It didn't help that he works in construction. This guy fucking smells! I lowered the car window to get away from the strong smell of sweat and body odor. Thankfully, the car ride back home was short thanks to the lack of traffic.

Once he pulled into our driveway, I got out of the car and basically ran straight to my room. I finally had the chance to get away from my step dad. He didn't even say anything the entire car ride! I'm so used to him talking away my ear all the time. Yet, he was quiet today. I didn't wanna say anything either, the energy felt too awkward and tense...

It was strange, but I hoped that my step dad was just having an off day. I walked out to the living room and saw that my step dad had stripped even more.

He was just sitting there on a chair. He looked at me when he noticed I walked into the room, but he still didn't say anything though! He just sat there, chilling. Shirtless was weird, but pants-less was pushing it.

"Dad, I think we need to talk." I approached him, and his body odor violated my nostrils again. The smell was somehow even stronger now.

I couldn't stand it! But... I couldn't stop sniffing it. The smell was going deep inside my nose and hitting every cell on its way in. That musky smell was awful but I just couldn’t get enough of it! I could feel myself getting turned on just by standing there and taking in my step dad's sweaty funk.

He then stood up and walked towards me. The smell got stronger as he closed the gap between us. I helped him too by walking to him. We were face to face now. I wanted to take another deep whiff, but instead, my step dad lifted his arm, grabbed the back of my head, and stuffed me into his armpit.

My step dad kept pushing my face deeper into his pit, and I helped him by nuzzling myself in until my nose was getting squished in. I was so close to his body now. I helped myself to taking deep whiffs of my step dad’s musk. His armpit hair tickled my nose as I sniffed in between moans.

My dick was rock hard now. What the fuck was wrong with me!? I just couldn’t get enough of my step dad! I wanted to get closer- no, I needed to get closer.

My step dad noticed my hard on, and he did not hesitate on grabbing it with his free hand. I groaned as he rubbed my dick with a fierce grip.

“More Daddy!” a scream escaped my mouth as I lifted my head out of my step dad’s pits for a brief second. It hit me what I had just said, and I stood there in shock at what was happening.

My step dad, on the other hand, smirked and kept going. The hand he had at the back of my head started pushing me down, and I complied by going down onto my knees. I was now at eye level with my step dad’s crotch. The sweaty smell of his balls hit my senses, and it only added fuel to the fire growing inside of me.

I went ahead and took off his briefs. His dick was only semi hard, yet its size was still massive and impressive. I could see how thick his cock was... God, I wish I came out of my step dad’s dick!

I leaned in to start sucking off my step dad, but to my surprise, my step dad stopped me by putting a hand on my forehead. I looked up at him, then down at his hardening cock in my hand, then back up at him. I let go of his dick when I remembered what I was doing. Something was definitely wrong with me!

I stood up and tried walking away, but my step dad stopped me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and hoisted me up, planting a kiss on the lips after doing so. I felt his scruffy beard brush and scratch against my face as he kissed me.

That odor was back again... But who cares, I was kissing my step dad! The hottest man I’ve ever known!

My step dad carried me over to the couch, not letting our lips separate as he did so. Then, after laying me down on the couch, he proceeded to strip me of my clothes with a speed I have never seen him move at. I felt his now fully erect cock rub against my bare ass. Now his armpit musk and ball smell mixed together, creating an even stronger pheromone; one I couldn’t resist and one I happily gave into.

“Fuck me Daddy!”

No doubt my step dad heard my plea, as he was already pushing his tip into me. I took a breath and exhaled, then felt his raging cock fill my ass with its size as it slid right in. I placed my legs onto my step dad’s shoulders, he grabbed me by the thighs, and started pounding away at me.

My hole was on fire!

My step dad held nothing back as he fucked me. I could hardly contain myself now. I was dripping precum all over myself as I moaned out of pure pleasure from the pain of a hard fuck. It was rough. It was wild. And, most importantly, it was hot, sweaty, and smelly!

“Ohmygod I’m close! I’m close!” I shouted as I felt myself getting close to cumming. I grabbed my dick and started jerking myself off as my step dad picked up a faster fucking tempo.

Then, after another minute of rough fucking, I felt him cumming inside my ass. The sensation of getting filled with my step dad’s seed sent me into a cumming frenzy. I shot cum everywhere; myself, my step dad, the furniture, just everywhere!

I laid there on the couch, soaked in cum and catching my breath. My step dad helped himself to a towel after he finished. He cleaned himself off and then sat down on the same chair I found him on. He titled his hat down, and I assumed he nodded off for a nap.

I was still laying down, naked and covered in cum. I blinked several times. Everything that had just happened registered in my mind.

“Oh God WHAT THE FUCK!”

I shot up from the couch. I was disgusted with myself. The way I acted, that was not me! I would never fuck a guy, much less be the one getting fucked, and much much less let that guy be my own step dad!

I hurried into the bathroom to wash off all the cum. It was the fastest I’ve ever showered, and it was also the hardest I’ve ever scrubbed too. I got out of the shower, dried off, and ran straight to my room. I got dressed in underwear and shorts, and then pulled out a stick of deodorant. I lifted my arm and my armpit stench hit my nose. That smell... it was one I was familiar with, one that I liked too.

My phone chirped from a notification.

“Bro where you at? Come pick me up! The game’s starting soon!”

It was one my football teammates. Oh crap, I was running late!

I stood there, contemplating on what I should do next. Then, on a sudden impulse, I walked out my bedroom and out the front door shirtless and without deodorant, ready to pick up my bro. I couldn't wait to see his cute ass.

#male body switch #male possession #male body control #body possession #hairy man #hairy body #musk #dad bod

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tsukishumai · 3 years

Text

pairing: tsukishima kei x f!reader wc; 2.2k tags; fluff, coworkers to lovers? a/n: quick fic for my bby lol happy birthday tsukki <33

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tsukishima Kei was tired.

Stepping out into the cold, autumn evening, he rubs his hands together in an attempt to warm his frozen fingers. He thinks the blister he feels forming on his pinky toe was a sign for him to get a new pair of shoes, and this fact was solidified by the ache in his arch with each step he took towards the bus stop.

The day had been longer than most. Maybe if he hadn’t let his brother drag him to the gym and play pick-up games last night, then perhaps his body wouldn’t have felt so sore this morning. And if his body hadn’t been so sore in the morning, then he might have had the energy to grab coffee before work, possibly even pack himself a quick lunch. His mood would have presumably been at least mildly better throughout the day, and he had no doubt that he would have been able to continue on with his work swiftly, and efficiently.

But Tsukishima had learned at a young age that things don’t always work out for him the way he wants them to.

He wasn’t trying to be rude when you came to ask him about his tour schedule, but did you have to burst through his office door so loudly? He felt bad for 2.3 seconds as he watched your smile slowly melt into a frown, but he was way too irked when you rolled your eyes at him when he asked you to knock.

And it wasn’t his fault that he bought the last tuna onigiri from the food stand outside the museum. He forgot to pack lunch, and he was hungry, too. He probably shouldn’t have unwrapped and eaten it right in front of your face, but he doesn’t appreciate getting dirty looks for ordering a meal.

You’re newer to the museum, he knows that. As someone with seniority, he should be a little more helpful, and he could probably work on improving his sociability just a tiny bit, but his patience could only run so thin. It’s not like you ever listened to him anyway.

Should he have told you to figure out the volunteer’s schedule on your own because ‘even a monkey with a banana could do it on their own’? Okay, maybe not.

But did you have to snap at him to ‘keep the stick up his own ass and leave yours alone’ when he warned your tours took too long, and you’d end up leaving late? No, and that’s the last time Tsukishima will ever try to offer advice to a newbie.

Tsukishima sighed. He was tired.

His stomach growled out loud as he pressed the button for the crosswalk, slowly moving to rub his palm along his belly. He’s wondering if he has anything he could make at his apartment. When an image of a rotting bunch of scallions and moldy tomatoes dying in his refrigerator drawer comes to mind, he thinks he’s probably better off grabbing a bento from the convenience store down the street.

The light switches from red to green, and just before Tsukishima steps down from the curb, he feels an arm delicately wrap around his own.

“Hey, babe,” a familiar, annoyingly cheery voice greets him, and he has to stop himself from grimacing when he looks down and his eyes meet yours.

Tsukishima doesn’t think you’ve ever touched him once — not in the last six months since you’ve become his coworker. He had bowed when you were first introduced, and Tsukishima had never been one to hand out hugs or high fives.

He attributes the deep blush that spread across his cheeks to this fact, and not to the feeling of your chest pressed tightly against his side.

“What the —“

“You almost left without me,” you pouted, and Tsukishima nearly tripped over his feet when you swing your body around to switch positions with him, “You’re so silly!”

“Uh,” Tsukishima stammers at the situation at hand, but he stills when he feels your grip tighten painfully around his bicep, and your eyes narrow and widen.

From behind your shoulder, Tsukishima sees it.

The streets were not too crowded, but they weren’t empty. From both sides of the sidewalk, Tsukishima watched as people silently walked past each other in a valiant effort to get home.

This was why Tsukishima almost didn’t notice the man standing beside the lamp post just fifteen feet back, his face half covered by a mask, hoodie pulled all the way over his head with the bill of a black hat just peeking out.

Tsukishima’s blood ran cold when he realized the man is watching you clutch onto him, and Tsukishima does not react when he can feel your nails dig through the material of his sweater.

A look of panic briefly flashes in your eyes when Tsukishima places his hand on top of yours and gently pulls your grip off his sleeve.

“You’re going to ruin my sweater,” Tsukishima mumbles as he drags his hand down the length of your arm and intertwines his fingers with yours. Your mouth drops open in shock when he gives your hand a tight squeeze, “Sweetie.”

He doesn’t wait for you to regain your composure before he drags you across the street. As soon as Tsukishima’s foot lands on the other curb, he glances back at the direction from which you came.

The capped-man was now slowly walking forward, reaching the crosswalk just as the light turned red once more.

Tsukishima quickened his pace down the silent sidewalk, globes of orange light shining down each lamp post you walked past. You said nothing of the sweat that accumulated between both of your nervous palms, still gripping onto Tsukishima’s hand tightly. The size of it nearly engulfs your own, and your hold on him was the only thing allowing you to somewhat keep up with the pace of his strides.

“My bus stop is right over there,” you mumble quietly, and Tsukishima silently thanked the gods you were going the same direction.

He could feel your fingers trembling against his, and Tsukishima gives you a light squeeze.

He wasn’t sure what to do. He was never one to comfort another, and he had never really been in a situation before. But something akin to an ember of rage had been stoked within him as soon as he saw some strange man’s greedy little eyes stuck on you.

The bus arrived just five minutes later, and Tsukishima stayed close behind as you climbed inside. You were lucky enough to find two vacant seats, and you slid into the one beside the window. Tsukishima occupies the aisle seat, stretching his legs out slightly as he watches the stream of people entering and leaving the bus.

It was after an old woman carrying groceries clambered into a seat behind the bus driver did Tsukishima notice him.

He sat by the very front while the two of you occupied seats in the back. A pair of sunglasses now completely masked all of his features, but Tsukishima didn’t need to see his eyes to know who they were trained on.

When you look up at him, dazed and slightly terrified, he gives you a tight-lipped smile. He lets go of your hand, and his heart breaks a little when he sees your eyes dart around in panic. Wordlessly, he reaches over and wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close into his side.

You had always been so hot-headed — loud, and passionate, and animated about everything that you do. Tsukishima had known you were trouble from the moment you rearranged one of his displays without even thinking about consulting him, and you had honestly been a headache ever since. You challenged him at every turn, corrected him when he didn’t ask for it, and it was obvious to Tsukishima that you were much too big for him to handle.

But at the moment, feeling so small as you trembled tucked beneath his arm, Tsukishima could only think that he never wanted to see you like this ever again.

His heart crumbles a little when you rest your head against his shoulder.

“So,” Tsukishima’s voice vibrated against your cheek, “The tours ran a bit too long today, didn’t they?”

Tsukishima bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing when you turn your head to face him, an incredulous expression decorating your features.

“Is now really an appropriate time for an ‘I told you so’,” You hissed, “You never miss a chance, do you?”

Now, a smug smile has fully settled onto his lips, “Never have, never will.”

You land a punch on Tsukishima’s wide open ribs, and he flinches to the side with a slight ‘oof’. But he tightens his arm around you even more. Swirls of pine and citrus began to calm your nerves, and it took you too long to realize you were inhaling Tsukishima’s cologne. He smelled as clean as he looked, and even after a full day of work, not a single hair of his was out of place.

Your stop was four after Tsukishima’s. He carried your bag from your shoulders as you climbed out of your seat. He stepped aside to allow you to lead the way, but Tsukishima’s chest was nearly pressed against your back with how closely he followed behind.

You hadn’t expected Tsukishima to follow you this far, and as you walked a few steps towards the direction of your apartment, you turned to thank Tsukishima for his aid.

You whip your head side to side when you find that he was no longer walking behind you, curious to see that he was waiting two feet away from the bus’ exit.

You briefly wondered what he was waiting for, and your heart shattered down to the ground when you see the familiar stranger that had been following you since you exited your office building slowly step out.

You didn’t even notice him climb onto the bus. Had he really been there the entire time? Oh god, was he planning to follow you all the way home? Your head begins to spin at the dangerous possibilities that could have unfolded.

“Are you lost?” Tsukishima’s voice was cold and stern, and you could hear it clearly from where you stood.

You watched as the hooded man jolted, clearly shocked at the question directed to him. His face still remained perfectly hidden, but you could tell from his body language that he was not expecting to be addressed.

Tsukishima towered over him, but his six foot five stature had towered nearly everyone. The eyes behind his dark-rimmed glasses were narrowed in a glare, and Tsukishima stayed planted in front of your intruder.

“Oh — uh, i— no, just —“

“It’s that way,” Tsukishima didn’t wait for the man to finish his stammering, pointing a long finger towards the opposite direction of your home.

The man didn’t need to be told twice. He twirled on his heels, looking over his shoulders only to see Tsukishima watch as he walked away into the night.

You were frozen, mouth hung so wide open, you were pretty sure bugs had flown in. Tsukishima makes his way back to you, stopping to wrap his arms around your shoulders once again. He tilts his head down at you, looking softly as he asks, “Which way?”

You were at a loss for words, choosing instead to simply lead the way. Tsukishima remained draped over you, like a blanket of protection warding off all evil.

The silence that engulfed the two of you felt comfortable, and on any other day, you might have been appalled to be in such close contact with Tsukishima Kei.

But today, you felt safe. You felt comfort, and relief, and you relax against him, perfectly protected under Tsukishima’s wing.

You sneak a glance up at him, biting your lip as you turn the words you want to say over in your head.

“Tsukishima,” you start, chewing on your lips, “Thank yo—“

“My last tour is usually at 4:45,” he interrupts you, squeezing his hand on your shoulder, “I try to catch up on some paperwork before leaving but…”

He trails off, and you stay silent in fear of ruining what he’s trying to tell you.

He shifts his head away from you as he says, “If you wait for me, I could walk you home.”

You stop in your tracks, looking up at him with a smile. Tsukishima pointedly avoids your gaze, but it’s difficult when he’s keeping you pinned beside him.

“I’d like that,” you mumble before pointing back at the apartment building he hadn’t noticed, “This is my place.”

Tsukishima finally deigns to let you go, stepping back and brushing his fingers through his hair.

“Shorten your tours,” he grumbles out, turning his body back the direction from where he came, “And don’t forget to itemize each piece that comes in for the Date Masumane exhibit tomorrow.”

You stare at him dumbfounded before bursting out in giggles, bringing your hand up in a mock salute.

“I owe you one,” you call out, watching him retreat back from where he came.

He waves you off.

“I like black coffee,” he calls back over his shoulder, “Do what you will with that information.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

rbs v appreciated <33

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima kei x you #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei x y/n #tsukishima kei drabbles #tsukishima kei fluff #tsukishima kei scenarios #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima kei imagines #tsukishima imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! x reader

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emeren · 3 years

Text

such a tease - eren jaeger

👗 anon request <3

pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader

word count: 4k

content warnings: 18+, smut, choking, degradation, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, jealousy, possessiveness

notes: this was an anonymous request and lemme just say, i was SO excited to write this one. i’m unfortunately not super happy with how it turned out, but i’ve been swamped bc school just started back up!

SUMMARY: reader decides to tease eren by wearing a skirt without any underwear for the day, causing her very jealous boyfriend to act out in an unexpected way.

one look in the mirror was all it took for you to quell your nerves. your fingers ran over the expanse of the pleated skirt, smoothing out any wrinkles and creases. this was bold, even for you, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

eren had never been particularly shy about his protective nature; he was always making sure people understood you were his girlfriend, wrapping his arm around your waist or glaring at men who stared a little too long.

you loved that about him, but you loved pushing his buttons even more. he had a bad habit of being an argumentative, hot headed little shit, and teasing him like this was asking for some rough, animalistic gesture. that was exactly what you wanted.

you’d never neglected to wear underwear in a skirt this short, the fabric stopping just below your ass. you knew you’d have to be careful or you would end up flashing jean or armin, and that would drive eren up a wall.

you hoped eren wouldn’t notice until you were all out; meaning there would be nothing he could do about it. teasing him was one of your favorite things to do.

you heard your phone buzz quietly from your bed, picking up the small device and seeing eren’s name at the top.

lil shit <3: get ur ass out here we’ve been waiting forever

the eye roll that naturally came to you was strong, giving yourself one final once over in the mirror before heading out of your apartment. you couldn’t help the nervous smile that teased at your lips once you left the building, connie’s beat up minivan sitting at the curb. riding in his car was never the first choice; it was musty and had suspicious stains on the carpeting, but it was the only one that fit all of your friends.

connie laid on the horn as soon as he saw you, the rest of your friends yelling from inside the vehicle as you approached. you could see jean in the passenger seat, jogging up to the rear door with a knot of nervousness in your stomach. you placed one hand on your thigh to keep the skirt from riding up as you slid the van door open.

sasha and mikasa were stuffed in the small backseat, armin and eren sitting in the middle row. it was comical to see eren in the spot generally reserved for the smallest passenger, but you had no doubt that he wanted to sit in the middle because of you. he was petty like that - a trait that made teasing him all the more fun.

“hey guys,” you smiled, sliding into the van as your friends all greeted you at once. your eyes were on connie, who was craning his neck to give you a rather incredulous look.

you felt eren stiffen as you sat down, reaching for the seatbelt. connie decided to speak up before you had a chance to question it. “dude, come ooooon. what the hell took you so long?”

“sorry, i was distracted and my phone was on my bed,” you explained, connie resolutely rolling his eyes in response.

“let’s go already, i’m starving!” sasha wailed from the back, shaking your seat in front of her. you giggled at her desperation, finally turning to your boyfriend as connie sped away from the curb.

you were surprised to see that eren was already staring at you, a weird glint in his eyes. you gave him a smile, trying to act innocent. “hi.”

he didn’t say anything, just looked forward and placed his large hand on your bare thigh. it wasn’t that it was unusual for him to do so in front of your friends, in fact it was normal. you just weren’t used to him placing it so high; so high that the tip of his pinky dipped beneath the fabric of your skirt and threatened to inch towards the apex of your leg.

had he already noticed?

“took you awhile to get ready,” eren commented, his words only being heard by you as everyone else in the car chatted about going bowling. you glanced back up at him, eyes scanning his face. he was wearing a black t-shirt and sweats, the customary ‘i don’t care about anything’ outfit he always seemed to adorn. the cold metal of the ring on his middle finger did little to ease your nerves.

“yeah, i was just thinking about some stuff and got distracted,” you lied, smiling up at him. he was looking at you from the side of his eyes, jaw clenched.

“really?” he breathed, his hand shifting ever so slightly up your leg. his smallest finger teased at the crease of your thigh, head leaning down to whisper in your ear. “were you thinking about some stuff or were you forgetting about some stuff?”

your breath hitched, face growing hot as you struggled for something to say. connie, once again, beat you to the punch. “oi! lovebirds! no canoodling in my back seat!”

“we weren’t canoodling,” eren sneered, pulling away and moving his hand to just above your knee. he squeezed the skin generously, your slight embarrassment about eren’s public displays of affection quickly wearing off. “i was just saying, it looks like she forgot a coat.”

jean snorted from the front seat. “yeah and because you’re a dumbass who doesn’t wear one either, i’m gonna have to give her mine later.”

jean’s lighthearted words lit a devious lightbulb in your mind, the gears of your plan now in full swing. you leaned forwards, wrapping your arms around the back of the chair and consequently jean’s broad chest. you leaned your head to the side, a grin on your face.

“you really are too sweet to me, jean-jean!” you cooed, the feeling of eren’s grip tightening on your thigh an indication of just how well this was working in your favor. jean chuckled at the familiar nickname, hand coming up to pat your arms wrapped around him.

you let go and slid back into your spot, eren’s face clearly peeved at your display of affection. for once, you had the upper hand. and you were going to milk it all the way.

the local bowling alley was a small, dank building that prided itself on its catering towards college students without much else to do. as connie skidded to a stop in his self-designated parking spot, the legacy of the building seemed to live up to its expectations.

eren hadn’t said anything else on the ride over, just kept his hand protectively (and respectfully) placed on your lower thigh. you were much more careful sliding out of the car this time, hand blatantly coming down to cover your ass. you knew that eren was watching you, as he was quick to follow you from the vehicle and stand behind your brazen figure.

he wrapped his arms lazily around your waist, resting his chin on the top of your head as you waited for your friends to pile out of the car. you’d grown accustomed to his touchy nature, suddenly deciding to press your ass against his groin. the gesture was small, but you could feel eren’s dick harden within his pants.

“careful!” he hissed, hopping back in an attempt to shake away his sudden erection. you snickered to yourself, giving him a glance over your shoulder as you followed your friends into the building.

the interior was the same as it’d always been; drowned out with black lights and the smell of wax. it was the kind of atmosphere that reminded you of your earliest days of childhood; attending large birthday parties and eating way too much cheaply made cake.

the attendant was a short man named george, one who’d acknowledged connie’s arrival with annoyance.

“head to our usual lane guys,” connie pointed, a grin on his features. you all made your way towards lane ten, eren in a sulking tow behind you.

as everyone began to sit down, jean motioned for you to sit next to him. “each side will be opposing teams. we’ve gotta be on the same team, per usual.” he called innocently.

you and jean had dominated your friend group bowling tournaments each time before, and you figured this would be no different. you started towards him, surprised when you felt eren’s hand wrap around your wrist.

“she’s going to be on my team this time, if you don’t mind,” eren stated in a quipped tone, something that would normally go undetected by jean due to their frenemy behavior. you knew that eren’s words were coming from a place of jealousy, sincerely trying to hide your sadistic grin.

jean scoffed, shaking his head. “yeah, right, jaeger. she’s going to be on connie and i’s team, like always.”

you nodded your head in agreement, spinning to face your boyfriend. your skirt lifted ever so slightly at the action, eren’s teal eyes snapping to the garment with an annoyed perseverance. “don’t worry, i’ll take it easy on you.”

he knew what you were doing. he knew that the thought of a part of you - a part specifically reserved for him - nearly on display for anyone who cared enough to pay attention, was enough to fill him with a primal sense of possessiveness.

eren had never been particularly good at hiding his emotions. in fact, he’d been known to let them consume him in an embarrassingly juvenile way. as you sat down next to jean, your bare leg bumping his, eren couldn’t suppress the annoyance that washed over him. he folded his arms, the thought of your tight little-

“eren?” armin called out, eren snapping from his lewd thought process. you took notice, leaning down to tie your bowling shoes. “did you hear me? i said here’s your shoes.”

you listened to eren clear his throat and apologize, deciding to chat with jean and connie as everyone got ready to play.

the final straw in your plan hadn’t even happened on purpose. it’d come to you itself, as if the powers that be were purposefully trying to get you rammed into oblivion. it came after the first few rounds of bowling, after a few near misses with jean regarding the skirt, each one sinking eren further into his foul mood. it came in the form of a lanky, awkward looking employee.

he couldn’t have been any older than eighteen, carrying sasha’s order of nacho fries and your coca cola. he’d meant his comment to be nice as you got up to grab your drink. he hadn’t meant to say something that would send your childish boyfriend over the edge.

“oh, uh, i like your skirt,” he’d commented awkwardly, scratching at the back of his neck. you smiled politely in response, eyes flitting over to eren. and if looks could kill, that awkward teenage boy would’ve been dead on sight.

eren’s eyebrows were furrowed, jaw clenched tightly. you felt your cheeks heat as he made eye contact with the boy, standing from his seat. eren was tall, looming behind you as he protectively wrapped himself around your figure.

“thanks,” he said flatly, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. you held your breath at the feeling of eren deeply exhaling against the sensitive skin, large hands squeezing your hips. the boy quickly looked at the ground, nodding before deciding to leave. eren waited until he was gone to remove himself from you, an annoyed twitch in his eye. “fucking little pervert.”

you rolled your eyes, taking a generous swig from your coke. “he was just being nice.”

eren glared at you, watching as you started back towards your friends. “nice my ass. i know you’re doing this just to rile me up.”

“what ever do you mean?” you snickered, purposefully swaying your hips as eren scoffed, plopping back down in his seat.

you made your way over to your teammates, sitting down and watching armin finish his turn. a couple minutes went by, chugging your coke and getting ready for connie to take his turn.

“i think i’m gonna go use the bathroom,” you hummed, jean nodding his head in understanding. you waited until connie tossed the bowling ball down the lane, effectively missing all of the pins. you knew you’d drank the soda way too fast, standing from the bench and making your way towards the dimly lit restrooms.

they were dark inside, with red lighting like something out of a sex club. you pushed the heavy door open, quickly locking it behind you and relieving yourself.

as you washed your hands in the sink, you thought about just how riled up eren was getting. it was humorous, in more ways than one, but you couldn’t help the slight guilt that crept up the back of your neck about your actions.

but then again, it wasn’t like eren wasn’t known himself for being a tease. you couldn’t count the number of times where he’d purposefully made you jealous or grabbed your ass in an inopportune moment. so what was the harm in giving him a taste of his own medicine?

you flattened your hands against the skirt, making sure it was straight before unlocking the door and heaving it open, stepping out into the dark hallway.

you jumped back at the appearance of a dark figure leaning against the wall, defensively clutching your chest as you stood in front of your slightly amused boyfriend.

“mind if we chat?” he asked, voice edging an emotion that you knew you couldn’t get into at the moment. your eyes glanced down the end of the hallway, no one in sight. you looked back to him, his pink lips turned upwards, the word ‘gotcha’ written all over his face.

“we should probably head back out there,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the way eren was sizing you up. he just smiled, pushing himself from the wall and taking a step towards you. all of the confidence you’d had in your teasing flew out the window, swallowing at the downfall of your plan.

“don’t worry. i told ‘em my mom was calling,” he purred in response, index finger coming up to gently trace against your jaw. it was his turn to be smug; everyone in your friend group knew that carla’s phone calls were a draw out, lengthy affair. he’d trapped you.

you held your breath as he stepped forward, slowly tilting your jaw to place a deceivingly sweet kiss to the skin. you felt embarrassed at the way your cunt throbbed at the action, his lips moving to tease the shell of your ear. “but what about me?”

“what about you?” eren sneered, his voice turning slightly sour, fingers roughly gripping your jaw as he placed a kiss right below your ear. “this is what you were asking for, wasn’t it? now be a good girl and go back into the bathroom for me.”

you hesitated for a moment, thinking about your friends bowling a mere 100 feet away. eren’s eyes were dark, and the churning you could feel at the pit of your stomach was only making it harder to resist.

all it took was the thought of eren bending you over the sink, fucking you stupid for you to demurely shift in place, turning to shove the bathroom door open once again. you could feel your neck burning at the thought of how easily you’d just submitted, but you wanted this. more than anything.

the bathroom was no desirable place; it smelled like generic soap and had discarded pieces of toilet paper on the ground. eren didn’t seem to care, gingerly locking the door behind himself before roughly shoving you forward facing against the cool, knock off linoleum countertop.

you could feel his hard dick pressing against your ass, your reflections in the dirty mirror lit under the red lightbulbs. he was commanding; aggressively grinding himself into you, your skirt beginning to ride up at the motion.

eren made eye contact with you in the glass, one hand coming forward to tilt your neck to the side. he slowly brought his lips down, peppering the skin till his mouth met the base of your neck. he made sure you were watching as he pressed his tongue flatly against the skin, your breath hitching as you watched him drag the wet muscle up to your jawline.

“you’re such a tease,” he growled against you, rolling his hips into your ass. you could feel your skirt starting to ride up even more, the cold air uncomfortable. “’s’hot, knowing your pretty little cunt is so exposed.”

his hand on your jaw slipped around your throat, squeezing lightly in warning as he flipped the edge of your skirt up.

you squeaked as his other hand snaked between your legs, middle two fingers slowly sliding themselves between your already soaking center. he rubbed at your clit, breath hot against your neck as he forced you to watch him through the mirror.

“look at how pretty you are,” he mumbled as he plunged his two digits inside of you, the sudden sensation causing a gasp to leave your lips. he wasn’t playing nice; roughly digging his fingers all the way to the last knuckle. his other hand squeezed your throat tighter. it hurt, but you couldn’t help the way your cunt clenched around him, chest tightening. “so pretty for me. n’only me.”

he slowed his fingers, pumping in and out of you, the sound of your slick causing him to grow impossibly harder. the feeling of his cock pressed against the flesh of your ass sent another throb to your cunt, eren smirking in response.

“needy for my cock after teasing all day?” he asked, stuffing his fingers particularly deep, a strangled moan slipping past your lips. you struggled to nod your head against his grasp, the feeling of his fingers sliding in and out of you at such a rhythmic pace causing you to grind your hips against his hand and subsequently his cock.

he quickly pulled his fingers out from inside of you, hand growing tighter around your throat. “you were such a little whore today. a little whore who needs to learn a thing or two.”

you could feel tears prickling in your eyes, eren’s hand that was wrapped around your throat coming up to pry your mouth open. you didn’t have a chance to react before he was slipping his sheen coated fingers past your lips, the saccharine flavor hitting your tastebuds.

“suck for me, pretty girl,” he said lowly, hooded eyes watching you in the mirror. you did as you were told, wrapping your lips around his knuckles and swirling your tongue around his fingers. the taste wasn’t completely pleasant or unpleasant, your mouth releasing with a smack.

eren pressed down on your tongue with his fingers, saliva filling your mouth before he dragged the two digits down your chin and throat, leaving a shiny trail in their wake.

he brought his hands down to roughly grope your chest, your own hands pressing against the countertop to keep you steady. eren gripped the hem of your sweater, forcing the fabric up to your midsection.

“off, take it off.” he demanded, leaning back from you but still keeping his groin pressed against your ass. you were quick to oblige, pulling it over your head. as you did so, you could feel eren palming your ass under the skirt, his dark eyes fixated on the sight of your little skirt riding up on your skin.

you dropped the sweater to the ground, knowing you’d regret it later, but you couldn’t be bothered. eren didn’t wait, letting go of your ass to unclasp your bra, the undergarment falling into the empty sink. he palmed at your newly exposed breasts, fingers pinching at your hardened nipples.

he was watching you in the mirror, the sight of you batting your eyelashes with your saliva on your chin only making him more possessive. it sent a twitch to his cock, hands releasing from your chest to shove you against the cold glass.

“want me to show this pretty cunt who it belongs to, hm?” eren nearly growled, the thought of jean or that employee ever being lucky enough to see you like this pushing him over the edge.

you tried to nod against the mirror, your breasts pressed against the cold material only aiding the way your center throbbed mercilessly for whatever eren was about to do. his hand came up to fist your hair, the other haphazardly yanking down his sweats and boxers.

you could see his veiny cock slap against his stomach through the mirror, the tingling in your clit multiplying at the sight of it. eren smirked at your staring.

“fuck,” he hissed, his gaze drawn to your skirt pooled around your waist, glistening center ready for him to abuse. and he couldn’t wait any longer, rubbing the tip of his cock between your legs.

a gasp ripped through your throat at just how deeply eren thrusted into you, his hips hitting your ass with a loud smack. it hurt; his brows furrowed as he completely pulled out from you, just to ram himself back inside your tight cunt.

“what’s wrong?” eren asked breathlessly, pounding into you as hard as he could. you were jerking against the mirror, mouth open as your nose began to tingle; a tell-tale sign of tears. your boyfriend had a sadistic smile on his face, a piece of hair falling from his bun to rest against his forehead.

“ah- hurts,” you gasped out, the sound of eren pounding into you filling the small space. eren hit you with a particularly deep angled thrust, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix. he tightly fisted your hair, yanking on the follicles as hit other hand gripped your waist for better leverage. it hurt so bad, but so good.

“look at you, look at you take my cock like this,” he said, voice gravelly as he began to buck his hips faster. you could feel the hot tears rolling down your cheeks, eren’s hand around your waist moving to guide your knee up onto the counter top for better leverage. the pain lessened with his movement, his animalistic thrusts growing pleasurable. “such a good little whore. a little whore who’ll only let me fuck her like this, hm?”

you moaned out against the glass, eren yanking your hair as an indication for a worded response. “yes-yes. all for you, only you.”

eren groaned out at your words, his head leaning back as he slammed into you from behind. he was blurry as your breath fogged the glass, but just the image of him bucking his cock deep within your throbbing cunt was enough to have you seeing stars.

he was filling you up so nice, pressing himself against you as the veins in his arms grew prominent. you could feel him twitching inside of you, your own center clenching around him as he made sure you knew you were his.

“such a little tease, showing off her pretty little cunt like that,” eren moaned out, shamelessly loud. he buried himself within you, your eyes rolling back in your head as the building anticipation between your legs became too much to bear.

“eren-” you heaved, him quickening his pace, hitting your cervix over and over. it was enough to make the tears come back, your vision becoming hot white as he bucked his hips once more, stuffing his cock impossibly deep within you. your orgasm didn’t reach its climax until you felt eren’s length twitch, effectively filling you with his cum.

the high was incredible; the cold mirror a stark contrast to the hot, burning sensation as eren thrusted out his own climax.

the two of you stood for a moment, mirror foggy and bathroom humid as you recollected your composure. when eren did pull out, he watched his cum slowly drip down your thigh, fingers attempting to stuff it back inside of you.

“don’t let it drip out,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your sweaty cheek. you could only roll your eyes, peeling yourself from the glass. he gingerly pulled his pants back up, delivering a swift swat to your ass as he stood straight again.

“y’know, you should wear skirts more often.”

“you should get jealous more often.”

“sounds like a deal to me.”

<3 <3 <3

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