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#then it is good enough and he should not beat himself up about it (which he doesnt. but he does)
scalproie · 5 months
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Domesticated Post-Tekken 2 Era Kazuya is my favorite to think about because this would be so good for him and everyone else but he would have an absolutely miserable time during it
#like I dont think he would REALLY miss the rich ceo lifestyle bc i dont see it as smth he ASPIRES to but as a means to give himself power#if you (jun) somehow manage to convince him that he does not actually NEED power then i think hes adaptable enough to ajust to a humble life#and the whole being rich thing fed into his worst traits#but I think being close to jun all the time would be torture for him bc he would CONSTANTLY be confronted to his own faulty morality#he cant help feeling above other common people bc he endured much more pain and hardships at 5yo than them in a lifestyle-#but he cannot act on his superiority complex about them bc Its Not The Right Thing To Do#he looks at his newborn son and feel *nothing* before feeling frustration and irritation toward *himself*#bc hes smart enough to know he SHOULD be feeling smth#and if he relunctantly admit this to jun she would tell him that if the best he can do (for now) is to not wish or do any harm on jin-#then it is good enough and he should not beat himself up about it (which he doesnt. but he does)#and even jun. she is another person he could lose and he knows deep down he would be happier without her#but being near her bring back to life smth that died years ago at the bottom of that cliff#and he wont admit it but hes scared to lose it again. even if right now its brings him nothing but discomfort and pain#hes not even sure if he *loves* her. and when he asks her whats in it for her. why she stays with him#(not out of self-consciousness but genuine confusion) she just smiles at him because he IS considering the feelings of someone else#like she is so understanding and he genuinely does try and its a really slow healing process#hes still gonna stay a little bit of a prick smug at times but at least he will be immensely more chill out#and even maybe fall in love with jun *jun* down the line. characters that fall in love with each other years into the relationship👍#and his whole exploration of fatherhood with jin. him vaguely recalling smth nice jinpachi (or god forbid. HEIHACHI pre-cliff) did to him#and doing the same to jin out of the blue for the sake of experimentation#and jin's positive reaction making him FINALLY AT LAST feel some tiny tiny thing for his son.#also for all her tree-hugger talk. jun is right meditating in the forest DOES help kaz a lot#anyway. yeah👍#tagging later#tekken
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storiesforallfandoms · 5 months
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winner ~ josh futturman;future man
word count: 2263
request?: no
description: in which she walks in on her best friend..."celebrating" his big win, and decides to help him
pairing: josh futterman x female!reader
warnings: swearing, smut (masturbation, oral - m receiving, unprotected p in v, josh is a bottom bitch but we been knew)
masterlist (one, two, three)
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My hand was raised to knock on the door when it suddenly swung open. Mrs. Futturman smiled at me. "Oh, hello (Y/N)! Come on in!"
"Thank you, Mrs. Futturman," I said as I stepped past her. "Is Josh home?"
"Yes, he's upstairs in his room playing that fantasy game he loves so much."
Of course he was. I could've predicted that. If Josh wasn't at work, he was locked in his bedroom trying to beat an unbeatable video game. If I was ever able to actually coax him out of his room to come over to my place, all he'd do was talk about the game. It was like an addiction for him. I guess it could've been worse; Josh could actually be socializing and getting a girlfriend.
Yeah, I know. Best girl friend with a crush on my best guy friend cliche. Unrequited crush on a friend and all that.
"Hey (Y/N)!" Mr. Futturman said as he came down the hallway. "Looking for Joshy?"
"That I am, Mr. Futturman. I know he's in his room."
"Diane and I are going out for a few hours. Help yourselves to whatever you want!"
Josh's dad patted me on the shoulder and his mom smiled at me before they both walked out. I watched as they got into their car, then turned to do exactly as Mr. Futturman said: help myself to whatever I wanted. I grabbed a can of soda from the fridge and one of Mrs. Futturman's famous cupcakes. I would've grabbed one for Josh, too, but if he was deep enough into his game I knew he wouldn't be eating for a while.
I climbed the stairs to Josh's room. If we hadn't been such good friends, I would've knocked on his door instead of just walking in. If I had paid more attention to the sounds coming from his room instead of his mom's delicious cupcake, I would've realized they were not the sounds of his video game.
Honestly, if I hadn't come over at all, I wouldn't have seen what I did.
Because instead of finding my best friend deep in his game, I found him with his head thrown back against his gaming chair and his hand wrapped around his cock, furiously pumping. The sounds coming from his mouth were sinful and things I definitely should not be hearing. I was frozen, watching the entire situation that I knew I should not have been watching. I was so shocked that my drink and cupcake slipped from my hand. The soda can clattered to the floor, soda spilling all over the floor at my feet. It was that sound that finally made Josh open his eyes and turn to look at me. I could only imagine my panicked expression matched the one on his face.
"Shit," he breathed, trying to pull up his boxers.
I finally remembered myself and turned away as he tried to cover himself. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't know..."
"You could've knocked!"
"When do I ever knock, dickhead?" I could hear him still struggling. I fought every urge that was telling me to turn around and look at him again. "Your parents told me you were playing Biotic Wars."
"I was. I - uh - I beat the game. I was...celebrating."
Under different circumstances, I'd probably get very excited over Josh beating his game. That would make him the first person to ever beat Biotic Wars in the entire world. It was certainly an achievement worth celebrating.
But a different idea crossed my mind.
I turned back to Josh, who still had his pants around his ankles and his boxers haphazardly pulled up. I could still see the outline of his hard cock fighting against the material of his boxers.
"Maybe I can help you celebrate."
He looked at me in confusion. I swallowed my nerve and started across the room. Josh's eyes followed my every move as I came to stand in front of him. His eyes widened as I sank to my knees in front of him. I watched his face as I reached for the waistband of his boxers, waiting to see if he was going to protest.
"Please," he whimpered.
I couldn't help but smirk as I pulled his boxers down to meet his pants. His cock sprang free, red and painfully hard. I couldn't help but marvel at the size. I had definitely fantasized about him when I was alone, but I was definitely doing him an injustice with those fantasies.
I pushed Josh so he was sitting down in his gamer chair again. I wrapped my hand around the base of his dick and pumped slowly. Josh's mouth fell open as I took the tip in my mouth, still pumping my hand at the base. I swirled my tongue around the head every so slowly, looking up at him through my eyelashes. I held his eye as I took more of him into my mouth, going down just enough for my mouth to meet where my fist was wrapped around him. His head fell back against his chair again as I began to bob my head on his dick.
I held on to his thigh with my other hand, trying to keep myself steady as I picked up the pace slightly. Josh was a moaning mess, putty in my hands (almost literally). I glanced up at him again, watching his Adam's apple bob with every lewd sound that came from his mouth.
"Can you take it any deeper?" he asked. "Please?"
There was something about the begging tone of his voice that turned me on even more. I removed my hand from the base of his dick, placing it on his other thigh and taking him further into my mouth. His eyes screwed shut as he moan out into the room again. I could feel his dick twitching in my mouth with every inch that I took in. Eventually I almost had him completely taken in, the tip all but touching the back of my throat. I had never felt so grateful to not have a gag reflex.
His hand found it's way to my hair, just resting there at first as I started to pull my head back. But then I was being shoved back down at such a quick speed that my eyes suddenly watered and I quickly had to pull off to start coughing.
"Shit, I'm so sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just...it felt so good. I needed to be in your mouth again."
"It's okay," I said. "But maybe don't shove your dick down my throat suddenly, okay?"
He nodded quickly. "Okay, okay. Please put my dick in your mouth again."
I smirked up at him. "Well, since you're being so good and using your manners."
He moaned out as I took him into my mouth again. I didn't tease this time. I immediately picked up my pace. Saliva started dripping from my mouth and ran down his cock. I was somewhat impressed by the fact that his chair hadn't toppled over or broke or anything with the sheer force of what was going on.
Josh's hand fisted my hair as whimpers and moans escaped from his lips. I could feel his dick twitching, signaling that he was getting close to his release.
"Stop," he said, his hand pulling at my hair. "Wait, stop."
I pulled off and looked up at him. "Are you okay?"
"I am so much more than okay. I'm actually really close, but I want to be inside of you before I cum. If...if that's okay, I mean."
I was off my knees before he could even finish his sentence. I got onto his lap and pressed my lips to his. It caught him by surprise, but he was responding to my kiss quickly. His hands held my waist as I awkwardly straddled him in his chair, the plastic of the arm rests digging into my legs.
"We have to move to the bed," I said between kisses. "I can't fuck on this thing."
"I figured it was a long shot, but the thought was so hot to me," he said.
I got off his lap and he stood. He kicked his pants and boxers off into a pile on the floor before reaching for my shirt. He paused a moment, like he was waiting for my permission. I playfully rolled my eyes and pulled the shirt off myself and removing his as well. I started kissing him again, deciding to give him the pleasure of taking off my pants and panties himself. Once I had them kicked to the floor, joining the other discarded clothing, we both started backing up towards his bed. I lightly pushed him so he was laying down on the bed before climbing on top of him.
"Fuck," he breathed. "This is a nice view."
I giggled. "You're a real charmer, Josh."
I spit in my hand and lathered it over his already saliva soaked cock. I hovered over him, lining him up with my entrance, before slowly sinking down onto him. We moaned in unison as I went down until he was buried completely inside of me. His hands were gripping at my hips, no doubt leaving crescent indents in my skin.
"Please move," he begged. "Fuck, I need to feel you, please."
"I never took you to be such a sub," I teased. "But I like to hear you beg. Can you ask me nicely one more time to ride your cock?"
"God, please ride me. I need to cum so bad. I wanna feel you before I cum."
I put my hands against his bare chest to steady myself and slowly began to grind on his cock. He was buried so deep inside of me, hitting the one spot my past hook ups could only dream of hitting. With every slow grind, he was nudging that spot more and more, and his pubic bone was rubbing against my clit. I hadn't realized how turned on sucking his dick alone had made me, but I felt like I wasn't about to last long either.
I leaned over to kiss Josh's lips. His tongue ran along my bottom lip, asking for entrance, which I granted him. My grinds had turned into bounces on his cock, the pressure inside me building more and more by the second. I could tell by the way his dick was twitching that he was getting close too.
"Shit, I'm gonna cum," he breathed. "Fuck, I-I don't have a condom on."
"I'm on the pill," I assured him. "I want to feel you cum inside of me."
"Fuck!" he cried out, his head lulling back onto the pillow beneath him as he finally reached his climax. The feeling of his warmth filling me up was enough to push me over the edge as well, crying out into the otherwise silent house.
I sat on top of him as both of us tried to regain our breaths. Josh sat up, wrapping an arm around my lower back to cradled me as he flipped us over. I gasped as he slowly pulled out of me, feeling his seed running out of me.
"I had to clean my sheets anyways," he said, eyeing the mess between my legs. "Hold on, let me clean us up."
He hurried out of the room and returned with two cloths. He passed one to me and we both cleaned ourselves up. He tossed the cloths onto the floor with the rest of our discarded clothes before getting back onto his bed with me. I was a little shocked when he pulled me into his arms, but I wasn't about to protest to post-sex cuddles.
"So," he said, running his fingers up and down my arm, idly, "how long have you been wanting to do that?"
"Uh...since I went through puberty and realized what sex was?" I offered.
He whistled. "That long, huh? And you never told me?"
"How was I supposed to tell you? Hey Josh, I know we've been best friends since primary school and you probably don't view me like this, but I have a massive fucking crush on you. Anyways, enjoy your video game that you never stop playing."
"Who says I don't view you the same way?"
"Well, obviously you view me as someone you want to have sex with considering the fact that we just had sex."
"I view you as more than someone I want to have sex with - "
"Friends with benefits is still just seeing me as someone you wanna have sex with."
"Will you listen to me?" he said as he covered my mouth with his hand. "I mean I like you, too, (Y/N). I always have. But I thought you only saw me as a friend, so obviously I wasn't about to say anything."
I groaned and pushed his hand off of my mouth. "God, we are such a cliche, aren't we?"
He chuckled and placed a finger under my chin, tilting my head up so that he could kiss me on the lips again.
"At least this finally happened now that you finished that game," I said. "I never would've gotten your attention beforehand."
"That's not true!"
"Josh, you didn't pay attention to me before. Being your girlfriend wouldn't have made much of a difference."
"It totally would've!"
"Shut up before I decide to take back everything I said."
I kissed him before he could come up with a comeback.
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emmyrosee · 6 months
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Geto doesn’t know how to respond to pet names.
It took him a long enough time to become used to the traditional “baby” and “love,” it was just recently when you started busting out these absurd nicknames for whatever thing you could be subjecting him too.
You were cooking once, and you called him “scnhookums” and asked him to pass the peppers. He dropped the tray.
Driving, you told your “stinky man” to take a left. He slammed on his brakes.
You’d been painting his nails and got some on his cuticle, and you asked your “little poop” to pass you some acetone. He just took his hands away.
It’s not that he doesn’t… like them, they’re just not quite what he expects. They’re so extreme, so left field that in a way, he feels as if you’re mocking him, making fun of him.
He doesn’t like that feeling.
But what he hates even more, is when you pause on giving him disgustingly sweet pet names. This, makes him feel like you no longer care, no longer wanting to take the time to come up with the gushy names that keep him in a shy state.
And you haven’t given him one in days.
He hasn’t been able to sleep. Nothing major, nightmares plaguing the dreams he thinks should be pleasant, 
“Shhh,” you soothe. “Stay asleep. I’ve got you.”
He merely nods and lets his head bury back into the pillows, your lips press against his temple before he lets his breathing even out once again.
As if your kiss soothed the monsters that dance, he’s able to sleep a few more hours, waking up disgustingly late and pouting to find your side of the bed cold.
He’s not proud of the pout okay, you’re just really good at scratching the affectionate itch that digs his brain. all he wants is his ‘pooky bear’ to cuddle their little ‘chickadee’ and let him fall back asleep in their arms.
He’s sure those names aren’t far in your arsenal of names.
When he finally does come to search you out, he’s not completely surprised to see you, stretched out on the couch and in a state of relaxation he finds envy in.
“What’re you watching?” He asks, shuffling into the living room. You smile up at him and say nothing, but instead pat your lap as an invitation for him to come and curl against you.
With a nod, he does just that, letting himself lay down on the couch with you, his head nestled in your thighs. Your fingers instantly start their magic on carding his loose hair, and his eyes slack slightly at the tingly feeling.
“Feel better?” You ask, and he hums contently. “I told you more sleep would help. You just never listen to me.”
He says nothing, merely letting his fingers gently trace the lines on your kneecap.
There’s a whirl of silence in the room, and he feels his eyes grow tired from your loving touch, the post warmth of his shower, and the cat that’s curled on his feet, keeping them warm under her rhythmic breathing.
“My handsome man,” you mumble, bending down to plant a kiss at his temple. his eyes widen as he cranes his head up to look at you, curved in surprise and a glimmer of love in his dark pools. “So pretty it hurts… my handsome, pretty man.”
That. That, he could get used to.
He smiles dopily and turns his head to nuzzle into your thigh, trying to hide the heating of his cheeks from you and your potential teasing by keeping his face buried.
But you don’t pick on him. Instead, you click your tongue adoringly and press another kiss to his temple. He feels your nose taking deep breaths of his scent, and your thumb strokes his cheek lovingly.
“Shut up”, Suguru says happily, as an acceptance, letting his sleepy eyes close and allowing your affections to swallow him whole.
Yes, he thinks to himself. It’s the fluttery feeling everyone talks about. The air filling his lungs and his head skipping beats just by the tone of which you call him handsome.
You call him your man.
Maybe pet names don’t always have to be sticky and sweet; but it just makes the most meaningful ones penetrate his heart that much more.
And this pet name, he hopes you decide to keep.
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luveline · 8 months
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hot bombshell bau!reader flirting and winking at spencer every chance she gets and poor spencer just gets hot and bothered very flustered and blushing😋😋
i love you jade i read ur blog like it's the daily newspaper<33
I love you anon, thank you for requesting ♡ fem!reader
"So," says a voice, low and syrupy as warmth spreads up Spencer's side, "how's my favourite agent?" 
Your perfume a subtle fragrance of jasmine and vanilla alike, sweetness that lingers —and Spencer knows, having thought of you every time he walks past the sugar ring donut stand by the Staples Mill Station for weeks— you put a hand on his shoulder and lean in for a one-armed hug. His skin erupts with goosebumps. 
"Y/N," he says, sounding much too much like a wimp for his own liking. He clears his throat. "When did you get back?" 
He's afraid to look at you. He doesn't have a choice. His heart skips a beat at the state of you, which is to say you look stunning in your dark clothes, a tight cut top that borders unprofessional and a pair of thigh hugging pants that pass the border completely. (He's kidding. Mostly. You're dressed fine. He's a loser, is all.) 
"This morning. They couldn't keep me from you if they tried, handsome. You look good." You disengage from his side. Spencer's relieved and regretful at once. "I love the haircut, they take a little more than you were expecting?" 
"Is it too short?" he asks unsurely. 
"It's perfect."
Spencer's taller than you but he never feels it until you're looking up at him, pretty eyes and quirked lips, permanent amusement in your gaze. "I missed you," you say.
"Y/N," Hotch says as he descends the steps to the bullpen. "We talked about this." 
"Pen and Morgan do it every day." Your eyebrows pinch together. 
Hotch doesn't say anything else, an empty coffee mug in hand as he passes. You don't baulk at his disapproving look, the opposite, sitting on the edge of Morgan's desk to kick your kitten heels gently, a slow back and forth that has Spencer's eyeline pulling down your legs. He shakes it off, but not before you've noticed. 
"You don't mind, do you, babe?" you ask. "My flirting?" 
It'll probably kill him sooner rather than later. "No. Don't mind." 
"'Cus I can stop, I promise. But you're the kind of boy that should be flirted with, you know? And the kind of smart that makes you crazy attractive, which is unfair. It's not like you needed help in that particular department." You lean back as you talk, scrounging around Morgan's things.
"Second shelf," Spencer says. 
You stop your searching to grin at him. Pleased, you reach down to the second drawer of Morgan's desk and find what you'd been looking for, a coveted, half-eaten pack of cherry twizzlers. 
"But we're not like Pen and Morgan," you say, bringing a twizzler to your mouth. 
"We're not?" Spencer asks, confused. He may not summon the necessary charisma to flirt back, but he likes what you have. 
"Nope." You take another bite, chew, leaving Spencer in anticipation. Finally, you swallow, lips curving into an even stickier smile. "'Cus Pen and Morgan are never gonna happen. They're better as friends…" 
You slip down off of Morgan's desk, leaving his twizzlers behind. Spencer has enough sense about him to anticipate your approach. He's proud of himself for the composure he maintains as your footsteps slow. He even takes a step back to follow you, to your abject delight. 
"But we're not just friends, are we?" you ask softly. You lift your chin. He can smell the cherry on you. 
"Y/N, enough," Hotch says from somewhere behind. You refuse to look away, and while Spencer fears his chief's tone, he manages to hold your gaze. "HR will mandate another presentation." 
"It's alright, Hotch," Spencer says. His cheeks are flushed and his palms are clammy, but his voice holds up. "I don't mind." 
"I'm sure you don't." 
"This could all be avoided if we took this somewhere a little more private," you murmur. 
"Enough. I won't tell you again, Y/N. Shouldn't you be helping Penelope with her ViCAP recalibration?" Hotch asks pointedly. 
Spencer takes it for what it is; an effort to separate you from each other before it goes too far. You know it too, rolling your eyes at Spencer like you've a shared secret —Can you believe this guy?— clasping his arm loosely in farewell.
"See you later, Spence." You call him handsome, babe, bub, even sweetheart, but Spence is the worst of all of them because of how you say it, your voice entrenched in pure honey. His heart pangs as you go.  
Hotch lingers by Spencer's side, coffee freshly filled and steaming in rings. "You know, you're getting better," he says sympathetically. 
Spencer rubs the bridge of his nose roughly. "Thanks." 
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plutoswritingplanet · 2 months
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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha Harkonnen x Female!Reader) pt.1
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a/n: i had a "no bald men" rule before he licked a knife... so y'all know my priorities are in order. Cross-Posted on AO3
Warnings: Dub-Con (as per usual), Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atreides (it's just such a good prompt i couldn't help myself),
Summary: A month-long engagement to the na-Baron Harkonnen makes you question, whether a marriage can bloom on the grounds of hate. Loosely based on "Special Death" by Mirah.
Pt.2, Pt.3 Pt.4 (finale)
The message comes from the Emperor himself. An indisputable order that renders your Father speechless. You've never seen him quite as distraught, as when he has visited you in your chambers to deliver the news. Hands fidgeting, eyes refusing to meet yours, heavy shadows falling across his face. He seems to expect your reaction, not giving you as much as a flinch, when you scream your protests at him. And he should've expected as much, you were always the more impulsive of Duke Leto's children. 
- But the Harkonnens are beasts - you argue, voice breaking - You've said it yourself, many times.
- Actually, I think that was Gurney...
- You've never denied it!
And he doesn't deny it now, head hung low. Never, not once in your life, have you seen your Father give up. Until today. 
Your Mother enters just a few seconds after him, her dress flowing around her ankles as if she had floated in on a cloud. She stands to the side of your bed, hands folded, and an impassive expression embedded onto her features. And the more she speaks of the centuries of breeding, the importance of an union and the powers beyond your understanding, the less you see of your mother. What stands before you, instead, is a Bene Gesserit sister, veiled in schemes and dark plans, which were in the making before you were even born. You curse yourself for not noticing this stranger sooner, and storm off, out of your room, your shawl blowing out behind you like bat wings.
Paul doesn't visit you, but you can hear him, even through the effort of swallowing down your tears. He fights for you against your Father. He would fight for you against the whole Empire if he had to, and your heart swells, as he throws a particularly nasty curse into the air of your Father's study. It doesn't change anything. According to the decree of the Emperror, the oldest daughter of the Duke Leto Atreides will marry Feyd Rautha, an heir to the Baron Harkonnen. A centuries long dispute is about to be put to an end, and all thanks to the small sacrifice, which is your life. All would be well in the galaxy. Really, you should be honored, to be tasked with such a monumental peace treaty.
Everyone in the court seems to know about your situation. Mournful looks follow you, as you walk into the training barracks, ridding yourself of layers upon layers of flowing fabrics, leaving you in a rather tight costume, light enough to beat your frustrations out on someone.
Duncan Idaho meets your searching eyes, and you know he is aware as well. All it takes is one inclination of your chin, and he's up on his feet, sword in hand. Loyal as ever, he stands in front of you, watches with mixed feelings as you enable your shield, no questions asked. None needed. 
He barely has time to put his defenses up, when you charge at him, fury and despair pushing your movements into stances which are clumsy and ill though out. Still, there's power within your strikes, a strength of someone who needs to move, unless they break. So he lets you, for a couple of minutes. He dodges your attacks, pairing some of them, never moving quite into the offense.
The rest of the soldiers scurry off somewhere, for which you will be thankful in the future. They might hear your cries of anger, but they will not see you break. They will not see the way your blade smashes into Duncan's shield over and over again, with no regard for the slow attacks, which would penetrate it. Likewise, they don't see your sparring partner fall to his knees and swipe you off your feet in a split-second movement, making you hit the floor with a frustrated snarl. And they don't see you finally give up, and cry, hugging your blade to your chest, the severity of your circumstance falling onto you, crushing you down.
- Never fight in anger, Princess - Duncan reminds you, voice cautious, and you growl at him like a wild animal - It dulls your instincts, makes you distracted.
- Did you know? - you demand, your sharp voice cutting through his half-assed lecture.
For a moment he looks truly remorseful. His eyes float around the room, and your heart sinks when he sighs deeply.
- I found out not long ago - he confesses - Your Father told me. 
Your blade slides against the floor as you throw it, a raw scream tearing through your throat. Duncan takes a step towards you, hand extended towards your shaking form. But, before he can attempt to touch you, you're up, rolling your shoulders forcefully. Tears stain your cheeks, and you wipe them roughly with the back of your hand, skin becoming irritated almost instantly. There are swords laid out on a small table, just beside you,  your fingers grip the cold handle so hard, your knuckles seem to creak under the pressure. Duncan readies himself as well, dusting off his trousers. 
He's not good at comforting, but he's the best at fighting, and if that's what you need in this cold morning, he'll oblige. 
- You'll make it through, you know - he says, his voice genuine, and you laugh without any mirth.
Your blades clash, faces coming closer as you absentmindedly notice small scars adorning his cheeks.
- You can adapt to anything - you strike against his shoulder, the shield pushes your blade away - We could send you to Arrakis right now, and a week later you'd be riding a damned Sandworm into battle.
To that, you laugh, this time your smile reaching your eyes. The idea is preposterous, but it renders your footsteps lighter, and you twist to dodge a nasty blow to the right arm. Duncan huffs a laugh as well, as you slip through his fingers. He points his blade in your direction, a smirk playing across his lips, and you bare your teeth in a playful display of wildness.
- Careful, Princess, you might scare your betrothed away - Duncan teases, as you roll your dagger in your hand.
- Scare a damned Harkonnen? Do you find me that intimidating? - the idea thrills you just a little bit, you're woman enough to admit it.
- I think you're fucking terrifying.
- Duncan Idaho, you better not be swearing at my Daughter.
Your face falls immediately, as your Father approaches the two of you, shooting Duncan a stern gaze which holds no real threat. Still, your sparring partner raises his hands, his blade tucked away safely into his belt. There's sweat clinging to your skin from all the training, mingling with drying tears on your cheeks, and Duke Leto tries very hard not to comment on your choice of processing recent events. Still, he nods at you, and like a good daughter, you put your blade away, walking from the barracks after him. 
***
The Emperor has called for a traditional, Atreides engagement. A mercy, which you're eternally grateful for. You're not too aware of Harkonnen customs regarding marriage, but given the House's reputation, it couldn't have been pleasant. House Atreides however, took to such matters much more ceremonially, old-fashioned to some. 
Soon, a ship is arriving, with your betrothed onboard, and a month-long courting period willcommence. After that, official engagement and soon after, a wedding. Then, you will be transported back on Geidis Prime, where a life of misery awaits. That's all the time you have. A month.  
The dress, which was picked out for you, is uncomfortable and shows both too much and too little skin at the same time. While your legs are bare and exposed to an almost scandalous degree, a high, stiff collar nearly chokes the life out of you. This whole getup was the idea of your mother, as an attempt to highlight your best features and hide all that might be considered less desirable. 
You have no idea what's wrong with your neck. Perhaps, by cutting off your airflow, your mother aimed to keep you docile. 
She frowns deeply as you tug on the fabric, nerves climbing up your spine, growing more desperate every second. She swats at your hand, and you throw her a look. Out of the corner of your eye Paul smiles at your antics, your only consolation in this hopeless place. 
- Stop fidgeting, you'll tear the dress - Lady Jessica scolds you, and you can sense actual worry underlining her stern voice.
The Harkonnen ship slowly glides into the atmosphere of your home planet, a black, awful thing. Like all things on Geidis Prime, dark and miserable. Soon, you'll join them, adorned in equally black and lifeless clothing, never to see your family again. Never to see the Ocean. Your nails bite into the collar of the dress, you can hear a stitch tear.
- Stop that.
Your hands fall uselessly against your body, as your mother uses the Voice on you. Wouldn't be the first time, you were quite the unruly daughter and Lady Jessica was determined to make a Lady out of you no matter the means. Still, this time, the unnatural tone feels more like a panicked plea,  than a light-hearted scolding. 
- Relax Mother - your voice is sharp, despite the slight tremble - In a months time I'll be gone from here forever, stuck in some blackened cell, wistfully sighing "ooh" "aah".
You place your hand on your forehead in a dramatic display of doubtful acting abilities. When you were younger, your mother would laugh at you, as you enacted scenes from romance books. You would throw yourself at a nearby piece of furniture, pretending to be some wronged lover, or an unhappy bride waiting for someone to liberate her. And your mother would clap her hands, thoroughly entertained.
Today however, she doesn't even crack a smile.
- I don't expect you to be happy about all this - she whispers - But I do expect you to wear your grief with some grace.
A slap would've been kinder, you think, and stare ahead, as the Harkonnen ship opens, and a group of people dressed in black spill out of it like ants from a drowning anthill. Your heart is thrumming hard in your chest, and your hand reaches out, despite all your apprehension, towards your mother. A force of habit, to search consolation within her disregarding the fact, that it was her meddling that put you here. 
Her fingers lace with yours, thumb stroking your palm in an attempt to soothe you. 
Immediately, you know which one of the bald headed Harkonnen is your betrothed. 
He's much taller than you, an imposing figure even despite his rather lean built. His skin is almost completely white, as expected, his teeth are blackened out, as expected as well, and his eyes are bearing into you with an intensity so oppressing, you almost look away. Almost. 
- I present to you, Feyd Rautha, the na-Baron of House Harkonnen. 
The pale man steps forward, releasing you from his gaze for only just a moment, to trade pleasantries with your Father, who looks beyond miserable as he fixes your soon-to-be husband with a tired look. Then, Feyd Rautha is brought before you.
There's grace to his movements you did not expect, as he pushes his black cloak aside, and kneels in front of you. Harkonnen were known for their bulky ruthlessness, but this one... This one reminded you of a panther, the way his eyes travelled the length of your body, full lips pulling upward into a barely noticable smirk. 
Customs, you remind yourself, as your mother's hand squeezes your fingers. You don't want to let her go, but you do, slowly, with so many mixed thoughts rattling around your brain, it makes your head swim. 
Feyd Rautha grabs your extended hand in such a gentle manner, you're almost convinced the Harkonnens have shaved some poor bastard and dropped him off instead of the real na-Baron. Then, he lifts your palm up, until his lips press against your fingertips, a gesture so tender, your heart does a flip in your chest. And then, it stops all together, when his grip on your palm tightens, and he pulls your hand closer, to kiss it properly. As if he can't help himself, he looks up at you, and you realize. 
You almost got yourself caught, but reading people's intentions have been taught to you as fervently as reading texts, and you can see right through this facade of chivalry. There's darkness in this man, a swirling void, which brings a wave of cold fear upon you. This cunning, depraved creature will soon enough become your husband, and you'll be stuck with him forever. How long will he keep up this impeccable appearence? Was this performence for you, your Father, his own twisted fun, or all the things combined?
With a furrowed brow, you tear your hand out of his grasp, a full body shiver running up your spine at the sight of his self-satisfied smirk. He drinks up your reactions like a man parched, and you fight hard to put on a mask of indifference, as he rises from his knees to stand before you in all his imposing glory.
***
You can feel his eyes follow you, as the welcome committee retreats into the Palace. He doesn't let you out of his sight throughout the feast, which takes place immediately after his arrival, and even now, as he gets ready to "entertain" the court by indulging in some barbaric ceremony of his, his eyes are trained only on you. 
It's uncomfortable, to say the least, having him stare at you, while you sit surrounded by your family, who, for the most part, say nothing. Except Paul. Your dear baby brother, your protector in all this madness. As Feyd Rautha throws his coat to the side, showing off his (admittedly impressive) muscles, Paul leans towards you.
- He looks like a hard boiled egg, don't you think sister? - he whispers and subsequently ends your vow of silence. 
The giggle you let out is caught quickly by everyone around, your betrothed included, before you press an open palm against your lips. 
- Behave - your mother warns, and you try, you really do.
But in the serene light of the fading sun, your soon-to-be husband's head does look frighteningly egg-ish. God, you'll get yourself killed, before the wedding ceremony is even resolved if you keep this up.
You're seated high in an outdoor theater. One of your grandfather's favorite places, where he used to dance with bulls for sport. Where he met his demise.
Feyd Rautha presents his knives to you and your family, their blades glint ominously in the setting sun. Again, you are struck with the sheer grace this man exudes. His movements, despite being forceful and wild, have a beauty to them, as if he was rehearsing ancient dance moves, rather than killing blows.
And, despite your brother's earlier comment, there is something enticing in the way his pale skin catches the rays of bleeding sunshine, slowly creeping towards the horizon. He's almost beautiful, almost handsome enough to consider. 
The thought leaves your head almost immediately, as the Harkonnen servants bring in his apparent opponent. Your heart drops to your stomach at the sight of a beaten, dark skinned warrior. Immediately you recognize a Fremen, you've read so much about them in your free time. You know how they filter water, what they eat, how they move through the sands, and despite your knowledge you can't fathom, why this poor man has been brought here. 
At your side, Paul shifts in his seat, all jokes leaving him in a hurry. The both of you watch, as the man you're promised to toys with a clearly drugged victim. Slashes bloom on the prisoners skin, blood sprays in the air. You refuse to look away, to show such weakness, even as Feyd Rautha grabs the poor man by his hair and with a forceful push impales his throat on the blade. Blood pours down onto the sand, paints the Harkonnen's face and chest a deep shade of red.
It's a brutal display of power, of cruelty and wildness the Harkonnens are known for. Suddenly, everything Gurney has warned you about, while training your fighting skills, rings like a thousand of bells in your ears. This is who you will marry, who you will spend your entire life with. 
You swallow down an urge to throw up, and stand up from your seat. 
The show must go on, you think, throwing your Mother one, venomous look, trying to force her to understand your pain. Then, you lock eyes with your betrothed, who watches you from below with a cruel smile, blackened teeth on full display. You meant to congratulate him, to play the part as instructed, but you can do nothing of the sort. Instead, you stare back at him, disgust flowing from your features like a broken faucet. 
Lady Jessica opens her mouth, but before she can, without a doubt, scold you again, you're out of the seating area, your footsteps echoing in the halls. 
Once you're sufficiently tucked away from prying eyes, your back hits the wall, and you allow yourself feel the luxury of unbridled panic. Your breathing comes out in fast, shallow pants, as cold sweat forms on your forehead. Thoughts racing, your fingers tangle into your hair, tugging at the roots. This is your future, the only future waiting for you, and it's filled wth pain and blood.
- Have you enjoyed the fight, my Lady? - you immediately know it's him, despite not hearing him speak before.
A gasp of surprise leaves you before you can catch it, and your back straightens almost painfully fast. 
There he stands, tall and lean, and terrifying. Blood still decorates his torso creating a contrast that is both terrifying and hypnotizing. He watches you, curiosity and humor swirling behind his eyes. You can't decide whether they are completely blackened out, or if they hold a blue, almost serene hue. 
- No - you answer, finding your voice entirely too shaky for your liking - I did not enjoy it.
He laughs, a guttural, low sound that makes the hair stand at the back of your neck. You know he wouldn't dare try anything here, right under your Father's nose while the engagement is still in the making. Yet, as you stand frozen, just you, him and the marble walls around you, dread finds home in the pit of your stomach.
- Was that man Fremen? - you ask, partially to fill the silence, partially because you're genuinely curious.
The man shrugs, you can see muscles moving under his white skin. He takes a step towards you and you will yourself not to run.
- Sometimes we bring a couple of captured desert rats home - he explains with a nonchalant tone - Mostly for entertainment.
The almost bored intonation he uses to describe this barbaric ritual makes something boil deep inside you. 
- That's cruel - you counter, emotions flowing freely onto your face, much to the man's delight - To deny those men the honor of dying on their home planet. To drag them into a completely foreign place, just to kill them for sport, like some animals... It's...
- Some of them live - he cuts you off, taking another couple of steps towards you, but in your growing outrage, you barely notice - Our brothels are filled with Fremen whores.
Your face twist into an expression of utter repulsion, and Feyd Rautha raises his eyebrows in a pathetic mask of confusion, almost childlike giddiness lighting up his eyes as he looks down at you.
- Oh, don't give me that look, my Lady. - he cooes, and you've never felt a stronger urge to slap the daylights out of someone - I know for a fact there are brothels on your planet filled with hungry soldiers.
- Yes - you bark back at him - but the people there are working prostitutes, not slaves!
He shrugs, looking somewhere to the side of your face.
- A waste of money, if you'd ask me.
- Good thing no one has - there's venom in your voice, and your betrothed sucks a breath through his teeth.
You curse yourself for leaving your dagger, for not concealing it somewhere in this ridiculous dress, because the way the Harkonnen's expression shifts freezes blood right in your veins. 
He looks at you, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, while something much darker lurks in his eyes. His bloodied hand comes up, finger making contact with the exposed skin of your shoulder. You can feel the thick liquid stick to your flesh, as he drags his hand down, painting you, marking you.
- You're quite the little viper, my Lady.
Watching him silently, you don't respond. Don't know how to, when he closes the distance between your bodies enough to make you feel the heat radiating off of his chest, while the smell of blood and sweat completely assaults your senses. It's sickening, the way he looks at you, like you're a new toy, just waiting to be unpacked and destroyed by too eager hands. 
- My Uncle, the Baron, has instructed me, to be the utmost gentleman to you. To woo you completely - his voice is low, barely above a whisper, as he grins down at you - But I just can't lie to my future wife like that, can I?
He leans closer and finally, you take a step back, sliding out of his space, assessing a cautious stance. His hand almost follows you, the skin of your shoulder feels conflictingly cold without him.
- Once we're wed, I will possess you completely - this time you stand your ground, as he approaches, circling you like a lion stalking it's prey - And then...
He leans down beside you, shoulder to your shoulder, close enough for you to feel his hot breath graze your ear.
- Like the bull that took your grandfather's life, I shall pierce you.
The violent innuendo doesn't slip past you, and with hatred brewing behind your eyes, you look straight at him, forcing your fear to lay dormant. 
- You're disgusting.
- And you're blushing like a lovely, virgin bride should - he concludes, sending an awful wink your way, before withdrawing from you completely. 
Your veins burn hot, as you watch him leave, a selfish confidence painting his steps, and you beg every God in existence to grant you a sword in your hand. Or a dagger. A kitchen knife would do as well. Anything, that would help you cut this unbeatable, patronizing, infuriatingly handsome smirk from Feyd Rauthas face.
Alas, you're left with nothing, only a small glimmer of hope dangling in front of you, after your damned betrothed's words fully register in your brain.
A bride you might be, but certainly not a virgin one. Duncan Idaho made sure of that many years ago. The thought makes you smile, despite nerves wreaking havoc in your body. At least that's the one thing Feyd Rautha won't be able to take from you.
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sunderwight · 4 months
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Liushen AU where SY transmigrates into SJ's older brother, and subsequently nopes them right out of the slavery backstory by using his general knowledge of the story and actually being an adult in a kid's body to just leave (basically) with SJ and YQ.
SY carts them both up to Cang Qiong for the next sect trials. It's actually not all that hard, the trickiest part is getting enough to eat and finding safe places to sleep between leaving the slavers and taking the trials (SY manages just barely, with considerable help from his new little brothers.) Nobody bothers to go after them because it's before Qiu Jianluo and this style of human traffickers mostly operate by virtue of their merchandise having nowhere else to go. Chasing down runaways is an expense not worth indulging, given that most of them either come straight back or die of exposure.
Anyway, they take the trials, and as expected YQY gets chosen to become a personal disciple for the sect leader, and SJ gets chosen by the Qing Jing Peak Lord, but also as (kind of) expected (by SY alone) nobody wants SY. He's older the Yue Qi, so too old, and unlike YQ and SJ his cultivation potential isn't striking enough to make any exceptions for him.
SY, however, can't leave it at that. He's spent more than five minutes with the street kid codependency gang, so he's gotten attached to both of them. And he knows what will happen if they're left to their own devices and The Plot proceeds accordingly. (Also, they keep threatening to not stay at the sect if SY doesn't stay too, for some reason.) So with a heavy heart and internal candle lit for himself, SY heads to Bai Zhan Peak. Which is the only peak that accepts disciples by way of them turning up and refusing to leave.
SY's not much of a fighter. He actually really hates the atmosphere on BZP, he's not bad at physical cultivation (his health's pretty good in this life, ironic considering how much worse his situation was) but the random ambushes and survival-of-the-fittest stuff is just not his brand. But that's okay, because it turns out that BZP actually DESPERATELY needs disciples on the actual peak who are interested in things other than fighting and cultivating their own strength. Stuff like, filling out requisition requests for An Ding every time things break, apologizing to An Ding every time things break again, organizing schedules, browbeating senior disciples into actually teaching, educating disciples on virtually any artistic or social skill, hosting lectures on how to beat vicious beasts without just overpowering them, and etc.
Okay so some of this stuff isn't and has never actually been on Bai Zhan's curriculum but Shen Yuan is going to make this place tolerable. And stop these children from needlessly getting acid burns or lyme disease or scurvy or whatever. He keeps internally chewing out Airplane for designing a sect system that means there are a lot of largely unsupervised 12-year-olds running around the wilderness on a mountain picking fights all the time. (When he actually meets Shang Qinghua and figures him out he switches to doing it in person, of course, in twice-monthly bitching sessions that look a lot like budding friendship.)
Of course one of the worst offenders is the Liu kid, who SY would suspect was actually raised by wolves if he didn't know for a fact that Liu Qingge has a younger sister, and also the kinds of nice clothing and letters from home that strongly imply not only does he have a family, but that the family is pretty well-off. Liu Qingge is at first deeply offended by SY being a BZP disciple. He rarely fights anyone, and uses tricks and evasion tactics whenever a fight can't be avoided. And he does other annoying stuff, like pestering him about meals and baths and lecturing him on identifying dangerous plants and the early signs of qi deviation. This is not what their peak is about! He should get with the program already! Just fight stuff until you're too tired to keep fighting stuff!
Also SY's younger brother, SJ, is pure evil (at least according to baby Liu Qingge) even though his other younger brother (?) is cool and nice.
Anyway, Liu Qingge stops complaining about SY after their first mission together, where Liu Qingge doesn't lose a fight but does get into a kind of pyrrhic victory situation where he's really badly hurt, and it's SY who helps him win (correctly identifying the monster and then pointing out its weakness) and takes care of him afterwards and gets him safely back to Cang Qiong. SY expresses surprise at LQG actually being polite to him, and LQG realizes that he's been a colossal ass if people think he wouldn't be grateful to someone who saved his life, so the usual Liushen dynamic proceeds from there. Liu Qingge starts bringing SY fans he leaves behind and hunts down animals that are supposed to be useful for bolstering weak cultivation, SY invites LQG to tea and keeps the critters as pets, etc etc.
SY doesn't get the Head Disciple position, because that's only acquired via beating the current peak lord in combat and lol no. Also he's not interested in stealing it from Liu Qingge, to whom it rightfully belongs (in his mind). But that's fine, because Liu Qingge takes the position when the next generation ascends and then he lets SY exclusively handle all the peak duties SY actually likes (mainly teaching). It's perfect -- Liu Qingge gets to focus on his War God antics and occasional administration/meetings without having to deal with students his has no patience for, but the disciples of BZP don't get neglected because SY is actually teaching and organizing classes and student care. BZP hasn't enjoyed a golden age like this since it was founded!
Things are pretty good overall, but Shen Yuan knows that it's only a matter of time before The Plot shows up, and so he can't rest completely easily.
Meanwhile, the will-they-or-won't-they bets on Liushen have been going strong for a while now. The thing is, most of their martial siblings are convinced that these two are already "together", and just being circumspect about it. Those who know SY well (like SJ, YQY, and SQH) know better but think that SY's romantic obtuseness is to blame, whereas those who know LQG well (LMY, WQW, and MQF) are pretty sure that it's actually LQG's obtuseness that's the problem. Of course it's actually both of them, so efforts to "fix" matters by getting through one of their thick skulls inevitably run afoul of the other's.
An additional complication is of course: SJ doesn't like LQG (mutual), and now that he's the leader of his own peak, he wants to poach SY to come and live there. Not only so he can have one of the 2 people he trusts actually close at hand, but also because SJ also hates actually teaching the atrocious little brats on his peak, and would like to have SY come and do it for him. YQY is still a total pushover for him too, and is also now the sect leader, so YQY agrees that SY can change peaks if SY and LQG both agree to it.
Liu Qingge, of course, is a no, but he's a variable "no". He's not going to hold Shen Yuan against his will or anything.
As for Shen Yuan, it's... complicated. He doesn't really like BZP, but it's gotten a lot better than it was at the start. These days he's actually pretty proud of his accomplishments, and it's more comfortable, but it's still a rough and rowdy place with fewer creature comforts, libraries, or other appealing points than QJP. Also, if he goes to Qing Jing to teach, he can personally ensure that SJ doesn't go around persecuting any of his students!
But... SJ never lived with the Qiu family in this AU, and even though SY's not totally clear on what the PIDW backstory for SJ was, he knows he's a better guy now than the scum villain in the book was. He has a reputation for making cutting remarks, not for being an abusive snake or a lecher. SY's honestly less worried about him doing anything bad at all, and there are other people on QJP who can teach. It might even be good for SJ to promote more people to fill out a social circle he can rely on! That guy needs more friends, seriously.
And QJP really doesn't need more layabout literary intellectual types who get into pointless arguments, which is all SY would be if he went there. Just yet another nerdy scholar for the rich kids with middling cultivation that the peak favors to ignore. At least on BZP he's filling a gap.
SY is clearly torn, and the fact that SY's considering it has LQG upset, and LQG doesn't handle being upset very well, so of course they have an argument about it. SY storms off to cool his head and LQG is like, this is it, he's gone to Qing Jing Peak, I've drive him off by being too aggressive and he's probably remembering all those times I told him he didn't belong here and oh no what have I done maybe if I build him a heated bath and get him books he will come back???
Turns out that SY just went to An Ding to vent at SQH while SQH was like "I think you would have fewer problems if you and Liu Qingge just got married and my disciples could call you Shigu to your face instead of behind your back" and SY threw melon seeds at him and sulked on his fainting couch (which is always cold for some reason...)
Thus begins the Liushen Divorce Arc where SY tries to be anywhere but BZP or QJP, Liu Qingge tries to figure out what thing he can punch to fix this not-punchable problem, SJ is like "I don't see what the big deal is they should break up Liu Qingge is awful and I want my brother to teach my classes for me" like the spoiled youngest sibling he's finally allowed to be, YQY is trying to moderate this Hades vs Demeter situation and is all "well maybe SY could spend half the year on QJP and half on BZP?", and Liu Mingyan is going "I know my brother if this doesn't work out he is going to die single and pining like an idiot" and so keeps conscripting other disciples to y'know, lock SY and LQG into storage closets together (ineffective: LQG can punch through walls) or at least get them in the same room (underestimating SY's willingness to yeet himself out of windows to avoid awkward social interactions.)
By the time Luo Binghe joins the sect (as a Qiong Ding disciple), the drama is in full swing and is the main topic of gossip across most of the peaks.
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audrey-emeralds · 4 months
Text
Smashing Diamonds
Pairing: Nate Jacobs x Fem!Reader
Summary: The well-organized party turns south for Nate when he sees his former fling just a few steps away from Maddie, with whom he recently rekindled. Deciding to stay away from her, he realizes he can't help himself after noticing what she is wearing. Word count: 2.3k (2381 words)
Warnings: smut, dirty talk, name-calling, slut shaming, degradation, fingering, a bit of choking, cursing, unprotected sex
A/n: I don't know why but I got the need to try something dirty and Nate is the perfect person to try this on. Anyway, first time really trying to get into it, so I apologize if it isn't the best. Also, I wrote this as quickly as I could, because I was afraid the writer's block was gonna get me, but thankful it did!
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Friday night, a perfect time for partying. When your friend Lea first mentioned the idea, you already knew what you wanted to wear. A very transparent top and skirt, with minimal material, mostly consisting of thin stripes of diamonds. A hot look for any club.
However, Lea didn't have any club on her mind. She mentioned your friends from East Highland High.
" You remember Barbara, yeah, well she said that there was this party happening on Friday and how we should totally come. " You thought about it, not much linked you to the people from there, which seemed like a great opportunity to meet new people and face new adventures. Without any hesitation, you agreed to this party.
~~~time skip~~~
After dressing up, you gave yourself a few spins, and view your reflection from the full body mirror, admiring the shiny gems that only covered small parts of your skin.
" This is going to be epic. " You took a selfie of yourself as you heard a car honking in front of your house. Quickening your steps, you managed to pass your living room with neither of your parents taking a glance at you, knowing they wouldn't approve of the outfit.
" Damn, girl, are you trying to get knocked up?!?! " Lea let her jaw fall to the floor as you were walking towards her car.
" Hahaha, not really. " A giggle slipped through your glossy lips.
" Well, good luck trying to find a guy who will pull out in time with you like this. "
You gasped dramatically, giggling once again. " Oh my God, Lea! " She winked at you, driving away from your house and straight to the party house.
Before you even stepped into the house, a smell of weed hit your nose. Alcohol bottles were at every table, every counter, and at any corner available. The whole house was covered in purple and pink lights, pouring over the crowds, not missing a single human. Music was bombing the whole place with its beat, and you couldn't wait to get to the dancing.
You noticed that just next to the big sofa, Barbara sat on an armchair, vaping casually. Lea and you made your way over to her. She quickly saw you coming her way and stood up with open arms.
" Look who's here!! " She screamed out, even though it was barely heard due to the loud music.
" So glad you could come! " She said firstly looking at Lea and then at you. It took her 10 seconds to look at you before she commented " Obviously with a purpose! "
You laughed, smiling at her and slightly shrugging. Lea just nodded enthusiastically at her. She encourages you to give Barbara a turn, at which you initially shake your arms. However, Barbara was intrigued and kept encouraging you to do so. Giving them a mocking eye roll, you spun around with Lea holding your hand in the air.
" Well shit, you better take that ass on the dance floor. " BB clicked with her tongue.
" Oh, don't worry I will, but first I need a drink to warm up. " At your words Barbara, lead you two to the drinks, giving each of you a glass.
" In that case, drink the fuck up! "
Two and a half cups of alcohol were more than enough to make you drag yourself and Lea on the dance floor. The beat was gushing out of the speakers so loudly, you could feel it in your chest.
You completely let yourself go to the music, the freedom you were able to feel while dancing was mesmerizing. Nothing else had your focus and attention, with this addictive feeling you couldn't care less what your outfit was showing and whatnot.
Across the room, Nate was standing with his friends, as each held their cup, staring at the new girl. You.
" Fuck, who's that? " One groaned out while eyeing your body.
" Just some girl from Valley Torah High. " Nate's voice spoke as each of his friends turned to him with interest.
" Yo, Jacobs, you never told us about this one. You fucked her, right? " The same guy asked, waiting to hear confirmation. Nate looked at him quickly before, staring back at you.
" Ohhh! So where are the photos, we didn't see her yet. " Nate frowned at him, as the group of guys laughed.
" I didn't take any. " He admitted quickly. Meeting the guy's confused faces, he added. " Didn't have time. "
" I see. " The black-haired one said straightening himself up. " Well in that case we will make some. " He turned to the guy next to him, pulling out his phone and handing it to him, before deciding otherwise and giving his phone to Nate.
" I trust you will know better which angles to film. " With that, he started approaching you. Nate didn't even acknowledge the phone fully, his mind was kept on you.
The way you swayed to the song, dancing and turning. Nate had sex with you twice, firstly after meeting you at a party and the secondly when you accidentally found yourself in the same store. Expect that nothing else happened, you two barely ever talked, you knew your names but that was it.
Nate did make an effort to ask for your number, but with him getting together with Maddie once again, he didn't think of contacting you. He did, however, look at your social media, just enough to know which school you attended and who you hung out with.
Since he was on good terms with Maddie, who knows would you two ever interact again, if it wasn't for this night, that outfit, and Nate's friend.
As the guy was approaching you, Nate took the chance to look at your surroundings, seeing his girlfriend had spotted you. " Of course, she did, who fucking didn't? " He thought to himself while watching the stipes of your skirt reveal your cheeks.
The sight made him close his eyes for a second to regain his senses. The outfit was almost slutty, whorish, he thought, but yet it just made it harder for him to not start rubbing his pants.
Just before the man next to you could get to you, one of Nate's friends tried to call out to him. " Yo, you filmin' this? "
Without any hesitation, Nate dropped the damn phone, muttering under his breath " fuck this. " and fastly started making his way towards you.
His friends laughed a bit, at his reaction, waiting to see what was about to unfold. You were still in your own world when a black-haired guy spoke to you. " Hey- " not even properly starting his sentence before Nate go to him. He looked at him with a puzzled look on his face. " Thanks for borrowing me your phone, now you can go back for it, I left it with Caleb. " The taller guy said, composed and relaxed.
You stared at the two strangers, the taller one had a serious face as he spoke to the other one. " What are you talk- "
" Caleb has it. Your phone. " He cut him off, you tried to hear better what were they talking about as you leaned closer to them. The two of them just stared at each other, not matching their facial expression.
" Go. " The taller one almost whispered it to the other one's ear, who left only a second later. Just then you could recognise the man in front of you.
" Oh hey, you. Nate right? " He just nodded slowly, his eyes watching you lazily, his figure towering over you. You stared at him, awkwardly standing, feeling a bit uncomfortable since you were the only two people not dancing in the crowd.
" Come with me. " Nate said, walking away to the stairs. You followed before stopping in front of the stairs and calling after him. " For what? "
He turned to you, an annoying expression on his face, almost frustrated. " We both know why you are here, so you gonna come and get it or what? " You turned back to see Lea was drinking at the kitchen counter, before meeting your eye, you supposed she couldn't see Nate, but she knew what going upstairs meant, so with a jovial smile, she made a cheering gesture.
You laughed, acknowledging her excitement, and then followed Nate upstairs. He didn't look at the people that were there, he walked right passed them and into a room, that seemed almost fully prepared for this encounter to take place.
You went in after him, closing the door. " So you remember me? " He asked a rhetorical question. " Then you must remember what you were doing to me. " Your eyes glanced at him innocently, after all that dancing, you still felt a bit mischievous.
" I don't know Nate, am I suppose remember it? " He immediately came closer to you, almost fully, chest to chest. " You wanna play a game ha? "
" Is this what you came for? "
You preached up your lips as if you were thinking about it, locking up at him and seeing the tense position of his jaw. A lot took for you to not smile, since you knew the moment you looked down you would see how much more tension was held in his lower area. But, of course you couldn't resist to look. " Oh my. " You gasped, almost faking it. " Now I see what is stressing you out. "
Your hand automatically pushed itself on his bulge, making him bite into his lower lip. But before you could even react to that, he spun you around and pinned you on the wall. Now his covered dick almost went right into your hole, as he made the quietest groan ever.
As he held you in that position, his big hands began to rub in the inner of both of your thighs, the warmth it was creating made you push yourself into him completely out of reflex. He groaned into your ear, before sneaking one of his hands into your panties, only to rip them off you. His fingers immediately stuck themselves inside you, teasing each and every part viciously.
" Fuck, ah! " You moaned hard into the wall. He left his right hand to flick around your pussy and let his left hand reach your breasts. He easily got to them, as only the diamond stripes kept him from squeezing them firmly causing you to hiss out in a painful satisfaction.
" Fuck, yeah! Tell me how it feels. " Nate pushed his still-covered front into you, as his fingers played with your entrance, before entering into you once again.
" Oh, Nate! " You practically screamed out his name. " It feels so fucking good! " You couldn't help but drag yourself all over his pants, just wishing you could pull them down. However, your hands were more preoccupied with holding you against the wall.
" Imagine how good would it feel with my dick inside you. " At that, you whined mockingly, pushing your ass into him. This made his hand leave your pinched breasts as he smacked your ass, vividly leaving his handprint on it.
" A whore like you would, just love that, wouldn't you? " You nodded hard, making sure he had seen it. His left hand then once again made contact with your ass, slapping it to the point of full redness. His fingers still worked on you, as you felt your orgasm approaching. Nate noticed it, smirking before completely letting you go. He placed his hands on his pants, starting to pull them down. You turned to him, wishing to do it yourself, but were met with rejection.
" You better keep those hands on the fucking wall. You already fucked with me enough tonight, so I'm going to let you know how it feels. " You barely turned around, as he slipped his hard dick into you. The sudden thrust into you made you scream out in pleasure. Nate didn't even let you take a full breath in before he started pounding into you.
He thrusted more and more into you, groaning at the feeling. His hands held your hips as he fucked you. His eyes watched your ass bounce with all the diamond stripes. The diamonds glimmered and shook at each smack, creating a quite beautiful sight that was hard to look away from. It was mesmerizing him and he truly thought about how much he enjoyed this, having you against the wall, being completely at his mercy and command, he was becoming harder just thinking about it.
You hummed at his thrusts until Nate grabbed your neck and choked it." Be louder...can't hear you. " He said as he slammed his full length into you. " Mhm, I'm gonna cum! " You yelped out, squeezing his dick so perfectly. " Yeah, come on...fuck! " Nate encouraged smugly, stopping his rhyme just for a moment. " I want to see you cum on my dick. " He then slammed once again, strongly into you, as you shook helplessly.
" You wanted this all along. To get...fucked so well. And so...dirty! " Nate panted into your ear, biting on your earlobe, before relesing it. " Mhm, fuck...I like you this tight. And wet. " His left hand was left at your ass as his right one returned to your pussy. Fingers rubbing into you, before sliding in.
" Mhmm... " You moaned as tears started to come out of your eyes. " Yeah...come on! Come on my dick! " With just one merciless push into you, you released your juices all over him. Nate groaned at the feeling of wetness covering him, throwing his head back, before returning to fucking you.
" Nate! Ah! " You groaned, feeling his dick twitch. " Fuck, cum in me! " When you said it, almost breathlessly, he knew he couldn't keep going for long. It took a few more thrusts, before he too released his juices, pushing himself fully into you, back to back. He left breaths on your back, as you both calmed down and returned to your normal breathing pace.
Nate pulled his dick out of you, walked over to the bathroom, getting himself a towel and cleaning himself up.
" You still fuck good, Jacobs. I remember it. " Nate only smirked at your words, trying to not let it affect him too much. He took one towel and gave it to you to do the same.
" I still have your number. I might text you for another time. "
" We will see if you will. "
1K notes · View notes
astupidweeb69 · 4 months
Text
The Roommate (Dark!Ticci Toby x F!Reader)
NSFW One-shot
Author's note: This is my first time writing smut, so sorry if this turned out bad. It's also way longer than I thought, hopefully there aren't any spelling errors. Cross posted on my AO3 account.
Warnings: Swearing. Toby being creepy, he hurts the reader, blood kink? unprotected sex, creampie, biting, it's just... a lot. (4,519 words) - Minors DNI!
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___________________________________________________________
Your brother hated his new roommate.
From what you gathered from the phone calls you two had, you knew he kept to himself, was kind of creepy and left the occasional mess in the kitchen. Your brother had tried to include him when he went out with his other college friends, but he always refused. The guy was gone at odd hours during the night, and smelled like dirt and pine.
You told him it was his own fault for posting an ad for a roommate on Craigslist.
It wasn’t all bad though. He paid his rent on time, always in cash - which he slipped under your brother's bedroom door at the end of every month. Plus, he had insisted on not signing any formal documentation. The lease they had was just a last minute document drawn up for a short term stay. 
Your brother would only have to put up with him for 6 months. Then he’d be gone.
But hey, beggars can’t be choosers. And your brother needed someone to pick up part of the rent last minute.
After a few months it had seemed like he’d grown accustomed to the strange ‘twitchy’ man he lived with, that is, until you told him your plans to visit.
You finally got some time off, and it was the only chance you’d get to see him. So when all the hotels in the area were fully booked you were not about to give up. And….your brother’s place had a perfectly good couch available, right?
He was reluctant at first, but after much pleading, he finally agreed.
On one condition.
Stay away from Toby.
You figured he was just being overprotective. It was kind of sweet, but he’d never been that adamant about you not talking to someone before. There must have been something seriously messed up with the guy. And to be perfectly honest, it made you second guess whether you’d actually go through with the trip out there.
But you already bought the plane ticket, and you couldn’t let that money go to waste.
So now you sat in the passenger seat of your brother's truck, the two of you making idle chit chat as he drove you back to his place from the airport. 
He talked about school, the classes he was taking, what parties he’d been going to, and fraternities he’d been considering joining. That last part earned him some of your teasing about becoming a beer pong loving, “Frat Bro”.
Only after a few beats of silence, you decided to ask him something that had been bugging you since your arrival. 
“Your roommate knows I’m staying at your place, right?”
It was a simple enough question. The last thing you wanted was to intrude on someone else’s living space after all.
You saw your brother grip the steering wheel harder. “Yeah. Toby should know you’re coming.” His response was curt and lacking his previous joyful tone.
“You two fighting or something?” 
Your brother sighed. “No just,” He paused for a moment, and glanced at you. “He’s been acting weirder than usual.”
“Weird how?” 
He didn’t say anything for a while, instead mulling over his choice of words. Not wanting to scare you, but still wanting to give you a heads up of the situation. “He’s been talking to himself. A lot.”
“That’s not that bad. Lots of people do that.” You don’t know why you felt the need to defend a person you hadn’t met yet.
Another pause. This one is longer than before.
“You haven’t heard what he’s been saying.”
______________________________________________________________
The road ahead was dark, lit up by the dim headlights of the car. The only thing out here now was trees, broken up by the occasional house. It was definitely far from campus.
The driveway was gravel, the truck rocking back and forth from the potholes and uneven terrain, finally coming to a stop in front of the house. Painted a dull plain white, one story, rather small, but it would do. It’s not like you were expecting a mansion.
After the car came to a stop, you grabbed your luggage from the backseat, following your brother to the front door where he quickly unlocked it. 
The living room was sparsely decorated, with an old brown couch in the center, a small television and a coffee table littered with cans and half finished drinks.
It completely lacked a homey vibe. Definitely felt like a typical bachelor pad. You nudged his shoulder. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”
“Hey, I’m not majoring in interior design.” Your brother shot back, beginning to walk away past the kitchen, calling out to you. “I’m gonna go to bed.”
Your eyebrows furrowed with a look of disappointment.  “Already? I thought we’d, like…. watch TV or something?”
“Next time don’t get such a late flight.” His face stretched into a yawn. “There’s plenty of blankets in the closet. Try not to make too much noise.” Disappearing behind the door of his bedroom, he left you standing in the room alone with your bags.
Time for bed I guess. 
You sprawled yourself out on the couch, placing a pillow on the armrest, and rolled out the fuzzy blanket you’d found over your body. You turned to face the front door. The room was pitch black, with a few beams of moonlight split up by the venetian blinds.
You picked up your phone from the coffee table by your side, figuring you could watch a few videos before you fell asleep.
The screen lit up, temporarily blinding you before your eyes adjusted. Mindlessly, you scrolled through youtube to find a thumbnail that would spark any interest.
You were about to click one, when you heard someone at the front door. Your eyes widened briefly, and you quickly shut your phone off. You don’t know why. It wasn’t like you were a kid and your mom was coming into your room to see if you were actually asleep. But it felt like you needed to shut your eyes.
So you did.
The door opened slowly, whoever it was trying to remain undetected. 
However, the scent that followed gave them away immediately. You actually had to stop yourself from reacting. It was a mixture of BO, dirt, and something else. Something dead.
Without even having to look, you knew it was Toby.
Footsteps, careful and calculated. The floorboards creaking. 
You waited for him to walk by, expecting him to go to his room so you could continue playing on your phone.
But he didn’t.
The movements stopped halfway through, and you heard him, on the balls of his feet, making his way over to the couch you were on.
The fuck?
You felt your throat dry up. You wanted to swallow down your nerves, but you couldn’t react. You had to continue pretending, right?
You could hear him, his voice low and soft, like velvet. A boyish tone, the occasional word being broken up by some kind of stutter, muttering things you couldn’t make out.
He stopped when he got to your side, standing right in front of your face. 
If you opened your eyes right now you’d probably see him peering down. His jeans dirty and torn, honey brown stare filled with curiosity, looking at the glimpses of your curves that peaked through the blanket on top of you.
A hand reached out. 
Cold, yet somehow clammy… texture rough and calloused. 
He was touching you. 
He was touching your face.
Don’t move. Don’t you dare even flinch.
“M-must be the ssss-sister…”
That was the first clear sentence you could understand.
He retracted his hand. But you could still hear him, the heavy breathing. 
His whispering.
“Soft”
Then he left.
Only afterwards did you realize you’d been holding your breath.
______________________________________________________________
“You look awful.” Your brother commented when he saw you the next morning.
It was true that you barely slept that night, made obvious by the bags under your eyes, and the change in your complexion. The interaction with the stranger, the one you’d been warned of,  had plagued your mind, stirring up thoughts that kept you awake. 
You grabbed a coffee mug, pouring yourself a glass, before joining your brother at the kitchen table.
From this angle, you had a clear view of the hallway. There were three doors, one must have led to the bathroom, and the other remaining two were the bedrooms. 
You only stared at one of the doors though. The one leading to Toby’s room. 
You knew, at some point he’d emerge and you’d finally be able to put a face to the name. A face to the hand that touched you.
For a moment, you wondered if you should tell your brother what happened. He’d probably flip out, maybe even confront the man. 
So, despite your better judgment, you decided to keep it to yourself. 
He only touched your face. Sure, it was creepy as hell, but you didn’t want to cause a fight during your vacation.
Your brother clapped his hands together, getting your attention. 
“So listen!” He grinned widely. “We gotta plan out the strategy for tonight.”
“Strategy?” You asked hesitantly.
“Yeah strategy. There’s a party I want to go to. Kappa Alpha is hosting it.” 
You tsked, sipping your coffee. “You realize I don’t know anything about the frats here. Is that like… a popular one or?”
He nodded. “Yeah it is. I’ve been trying to get into this one for a while now, so getting the invite is a big deal.”
You frowned. You were already so tired, and the idea of going to a kegger was not exactly on your ‘to do’ list. But it was important to him. So you complied.
“Okay. What time does it-”
A door opened. You stopped talking.
Your eyes widened to look over towards the sound. 
Toby was up.
The first thing you noticed was a mop of dark brown hair, unkempt, with curls that went in every direction. It was slightly greasy too, he clearly hadn’t showered in a while. There was light stubble on his jawline, and his skin was a sickly, almost gray color. A snake bite graced his lower lip, and there were a few more pieces of metal sticking out the cartilage of his ears.
He shuffled forward, looking tired, still in a pair of plaid green pajama bottoms and a t-shirt with little alien faces on them.
Once he made it into the kitchen, Toby finally glanced over. You looked away immediately, embarrassed that you were caught staring.
He was handsome. You hated to admit it. But he was. You pushed the thought out of your head, reminding yourself of who he was.
“Muh-morning….” He croaked out.
Your brother gave a little nod, just enough to acknowledge him, turning back to you while Toby started toasting a poptart.
“It starts at 9, but we should show up at 10 o'clock. I don’t want to look too eager.”
“Whuh-what starts at 9?” Toby interjected.
Both you and your brother looked at him, before nervously meeting each other's gaze.
“Oh uh!” Your brother stammered. “Just another party.” He motioned over to you with his thumb. “This is my sister, (Y/N), by the way.”
Toby’s eyes bore into yours. You swallowed, trying to give him a polite, reassuring smile.
“Nice to meet you…. Toby, right?” 
You acted unsure. Like you didn’t know his name by heart. Like you hadn’t had your brother vent to you about him for hours over the phone. 
“Yuh-yeah. That’s right.” He looked back at your brother. “Is the puh-party tonight?”
“Yeah it’s at a frat house. Did you…” He hesitated, before finally asking him. “Want to come?”
Toby bit his poptart, shrugging his shoulders. “I've guh-got nothing better tuh-to do.” The twitching man looked back at you, wiping some crumbs from his lip. He didn’t have emotion behind his eyes, just a weird intense focus on your face.
You pretended to be unbothered. 
It didn’t work.
He noticed.
And he liked the way you squirmed.
______________________________________________________________
Toby stayed in his room the rest of the day. Occasionally going into the kitchen, grabbing a snack, usually some kind of junk food, before he’d scurry back into his little cave.
You started getting ready as soon as the sun went down. It’d been a while since you’d been to a party and you wanted to look your best. Or look like you got a full 8 hours of sleep at the very least.
Toby said he’d meet you guys there. Saying something about how he needed ‘to take care of something first’. No one questioned him. Both you and your brother glad not to have to share a car ride with him.
Loud bumping music, the kind that shook a house and pounded in your chest, enveloped you when you walked inside the frat house. 
Flashing lights, a crowd in the middle of the dancefloor jumping up and down. The air was hot from too many people in a room at once. You could barely move through them all to get to the bar.
God you were going to need a drink to get through this.
Maybe even a couple.
Especially after your brother left you alone to go mingle.
One tequila shot, then two maybe three rum and cokes later. You didn’t even know how long you’d been there. Time seemed to freeze. There was only the music, only the dancing, only the bodies moving against you.
You felt hot. Your cheeks burned, and it wasn’t just from the temperature of the room anymore. The room spinned a little when you walked forward. Not enough to consider yourself completely wasted though. But enough to feel…. Friendlier.
More social.
Less inhibited. 
Numb.
After a lot of struggling, you made your way to the back of the room. 
You leaned against a wall, catching your breath, holding a red solo cup in your hand.  You could hear people trying to hold conversations by shouting over the music. 
And there were plenty of people making out. In fact, you’d say the majority of people were just straight up groping each other.
It made you a little jealous if you were being honest with yourself.
You looked around, wondering if maybe you could find someone cute. You didn’t intend on getting lucky or anything, but it would sure beat just standing there like an idiot. When was the last time you even kissed somebody?
Finally, you locked on to someone across the room. Someone with honey brown eyes. Someone familiar.
Toby.
He grinned when your eyes met. It was the first time you’d seen him do that. Large toothy canine’s, that bandage on his cheek shifting slightly. 
Oh god you felt your heart flutter.
You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. There was something wrong with him. Your brother didn’t like him. Nobody did.
He creeped you out.
He didn’t shower. 
He smelled like death. 
You listed the reasons out, and damn if there weren’t a lot of them. But in the end it didn’t matter. In the end, it was painfully, woefully, obvious what was going to happen.
And you were already walking over there.
You slithered over to his side, sweating, peering up at him through your eyelashes. Trying to look cute. Desirable.
It was working. 
He could’ve eaten you up if you gave him the chance. 
But you didn’t know that.
You fiddled with the end of your skirt, the jacket you originally wore tied around your waist. A flush on your cheeks, you let your hand gently touch his shoulder.
“H-hey… glad to see you made it.”
He tilted his head to the side, leaning down to hear you better. It made your stomach stir with excitement, he made you feel small kneeling down like that. But you liked it. Liked that he was paying attention to you, and only you.
“Whuh-what did you say?” His breath was hot on your cheek. Using the loud music as an excuse to get closer, to touch your skin. Making the hair on your neck stick up.
You breathed heavily in his ear on purpose. “I said, I’m glad you made it.”
Toby’s lips parted, not responding at first, but not moving away either. “Oh? Yuh-yeah?” He sounded amused, voice lowering an octave. “Excited to suh-see little ole’ muh-me?” 
It was kind of a stupid, cheesy thing to say. Like he didn’t really know how to flirt, but maybe saw a couple movies and memorized the lines. But it somehow worked for him.
“Oh, I’m sure nothing about you is little.”
Why did you say that?
Why?
It just came out naturally. Oh god, now your face felt flushed from embarrassment.
You felt him touch the side of your face. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, it sounded heavenly.
“Yuh-you know, I’m having trouble huh-hearing you.” He paused looking around, making sure no one was watching. You wondered why. 
“Do you want to go somewhere more private?”
That was enough to make heat travel between your thighs. 
Fuck. 
One meek nod from you was all he needed, before grabbing your wrist tightly.
Too tight, like he was unaware he could hurt you. Or maybe he liked causing a little pain?
He dragged you upstairs, practically lifting you with one arm, you felt like you were gliding over the steps. The muscles of his arms barely flexing under that hoodie of his, as if you were weightless.
He was strong. 
You both traveled through the hallway, careful not to bump into anyone loitering in the hall. Some of the other party goers shooting you looks, but they were mostly directed towards Toby. They weren’t judging you or anything. In fact, they looked worried, maybe even a little scared. You started to wonder more about him. What was his reputation like if this was everyone’s reaction to him? Or perhaps he really just looked that scary. 
So why did he turn you on? 
He pushed you into an unoccupied room and flicked the light switch on.
You barely registered him locking the door behind him.
With one shove of his palm he pushed you backwards onto the bed. Your arms flailed a bit out of instinct, falling down on the mattress with an ‘oof’.
You swallowed thickly, watching him eye the way your legs had parted slightly. Your skirt hiking up dangerously on your thighs. You had to fight the urge to close them.
“Yuh-you look scared.” That velvet, sweet, voice of his was twisted by something sick. 
“Are you?” His head cocked to the side, a wolfish grin on his face.
“Yes.” Was your reply. You didn’t feel like you could lie to him now. Feeling too exposed to even think straight.
He licked his lips, slowly approaching you. His fingers danced across your shoulders, traveling down your arms, sending goosebumps down your spine. They were cold and calloused, just like you remembered from the night before. 
“Then whuh-why did you follow me here?” He cupped the side of your face, his thumb grazing across your bottom lip. You were going to respond, but he quickly shoved his finger in your mouth, gagging you. He wanted you to suck on them, but he didn’t communicate that well. “Why duh-did you….approach me?”
You let your tongue glide over his finger. His eyes narrowed, watching your face, before he started talking to himself. “Fuckin’ stuh-stupid.”
You paused. Was he talking about you? 
“Should be whuh-working tonight…” He muttered. “Target just downstairs…. Ssss-so easy…this better be worth it…..” Toby chuckled to himself like he just told a joke.
You didn’t understand what was going on. Should you just ignore him and continue? 
Toby retracted his hand from your mouth.
“Sss-so pretty….” He pushed your back onto the bed, crawling over you, his broad chest heaving, face pink and eyes lidded. Pupils dilated with lust. “So…. suh-soft….(Y/N)....” 
You shivered when he said your name like that, feeling your panties dampen even more than before. Especially when he started running a large hand up your inner thigh.
You let out a shaky breath.
“Yuh-you like it when I touch you…. I know you do…” Your eyes flickered down at him, letting him continue his ramblings, Toby’s face breaking into another evil looking smile. “Luh-letting me touch you last nuh-night…. Pretending to be asleep.”
Your stomach dropped. You couldn’t hide it in your face, he fucking knew. 
He fucking knew the whole time. 
He burst out laughing at your expression. “Yuh-you’re still not even telling me to stuh-stop now!” Toby gripped your hip with one of his hands, lifting up the hem of your shirt with the other. 
Before you knew it, he tossed the fabric over to the corner. 
Your bra was next. 
In any other circumstances you might’ve found it cute, or funny, when he struggled with the clasp. But something told you pointing it out to him wouldn’t have been a good idea. 
He groaned at the sight of your exposed torso, immediately diving into your tits. Your nipples perked at the attention. 
He was right. You weren’t stopping him. Your body screamed at you to. The smell of dirt and grime, of all things dead and decaying, it permeated off of him the more he touched you.
Toby’s mouth latched on to your left breast, the other gripped tightly in his hand. You knew you’d have bruises there tomorrow. You didn’t care. 
He licked and nipped at the tender flesh, the swell of your tits heaving, your head thrown back and lips parted, letting out soft moans here and there.
A noticeable bulge grinded against your leg, as he huffed, humping himself against you like a dog. 
After a while, he finally lifted his head up. 
Toby looked you in the eye, grinning, licking your nipple teasingly one last time, before his attention moved to your skirt. 
His hands searched your sides for a zipper, he grunted out of irritation when he couldn’t find it immediately. 
You took the opportunity to gently put a hand over his, guiding it to where it was. “Here.” You said softly. “Let me help you.”
His eyes snapped up to your face when you touched him. 
Immediately, his lips crashed onto yours. Needy, desperate, quickly shoving his tongue down your throat. You kissed back, swirling your tongue around his, ignoring the weird taste of metal coming from his mouth. His breath was hot and heavy, kisses sloppy. You doubted he got much practice, but he seemed to be learning quickly.
He made up for it with enthusiasm.
Finally pulling away, you both unzipped your skirt together. Lifting your hips off the bed, you shimmyed them down your legs, Toby watching in fascination.
“I’m guh-gonna fuck you.” He stated matter of factly. Then he whispered something that made your blood run cold. 
“...Fuck you bloody.”
Shit this guy was scary.
In a few seconds, he ripped his hoodie off, along with his shirt. His chest was heavily scarred, a noticeable slash starting from his left side over to his shoulder, and a dark happy trail rising up from the waistband of his jeans.
You didn’t comment on it, but it was worrisome. You could only imagine what would cause someone to get hurt so badly and so often.
That said, Toby was definitely toned. A bit sickly looking, but his muscles had just a hint of a six pack formed. Maybe he did more exercise than you initially thought. 
He kicked off his jeans next, unceremoniously pulling his boxers down, revealing himself to you. Lazily, he stroked himself, a thick layer of precum smearing down his shaft. It was long, veiny, but not very girthy. A flushed red tip, looking painfully hard.
You pulled down your panties slowly, already soaked, and ready. The anticipation was killing you, but you wanted to make him wait for it. His Adam's apple bobbed watching you, and you liked reveling in his stares.
“Guh-gonna split you in two…” Toby murmured, to no one in particular.
He hooked his arm under one of your legs, his body shivering with need, pulling your hips against him. He glided his shaft over your cunt, rubbing your clit slowly. He noticed you tense, how you whimpered slightly, and how your slick covered him more at the action. Looking in awe like it was some revelation to him.
Toby licked his lips, before finally enveloping himself in your heat. 
It was quick. Like he was slamming a drawer shut, but he immediately bottomed out. You gritted your teeth in pain, before crying out when he started viciously pounding into you. 
It fucking hurt. It hurt a lot.
“Shit..! Tuh-tight!”
Obviously, your muscles had tensed around him, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden fullness of his cock stuffing you. Unable to adjust.
You whimpered when he didn’t let up, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. A dull ache between your legs as he continued thrusting. The wet sound of skin slapping together coming from where the two of you were joined, burying his face in your neck, breathing in your scent.
Toby inhaled sharply, before you felt his mouth open wide.
Teeth broke through your skin instantly, a warm liquid dripping down your neck.
You screamed.
You screamed louder than you ever have in your life.
You screamed bloody fucking murder.
“Toby!” Clawing at his back, trying to get him to stop, you started crying. “Toby! Please!”
Luckily for you, he released his jaw to call out “(Y-Y/N)!” Not understanding your cries weren’t from pleasure.
It egged him on, encouraged him. His pelvis slamming into yours, with no let up, your tits bouncing at the force. Itching his fingers to your clit, he rubbed it in harsh circular movements, making you tighten around him.
You babbled nonsense. Finally some of the pain subsiding for pleasure, and maybe it was the lingering effects of alcohol, or the slight blood loss, but you felt a buzzing in your head. Basically incoherent, the faster he went. The brutal, bruising speed.
The way he gripped your breast, the way his hand remained on your pearl, trying his best to get you to finish, but not quite knowing how. 
Something started to build. 
More and more.
Hearing him growl, pant, like an animal. It was doing something to you.
You moaned loudly, wrapping your legs around him. The coil snapping, muscle spasming, pulling his cock in deeper, triggering his own climax. 
His hips stuttered against you, letting out a gasp. A warmth filling you, Toby completely emptying himself inside with a deep groan, eyes rolling back in his head. 
He gave a few sloppy, slow thrusts, before finally rolling off, and onto the bed next to you.
His cum leaking out of your cunt and staining the sheets.
Everything went blank for a moment, realization only just settling in. The gravity of the situation, the blood on your neck.
And an arm wrapped around your shoulders, drawing you close.
“I knew you’d be worth the truh-trouble.”
1K notes · View notes
Text
18+ MDNI
I cant stop thinking about Eren being desperate for you 24/7...
This man is so whipped for you, its actually comical.
He's constantly asking if he can put his dick in you for a little bit. He doesn't even care if you guys are actually fucking he just likes the intimacy.
He gives absolutely zero fucks about what you two are doing or where you are.
"Baby, let me stuff your pussy while you do your make-up please?"
"Come sit on my cock while I play this game."
Like just imagine...
You're on your bed laying on your stomach just minding your business, trying to take a nap, when you hear him come in. There's a few moments of silence until you feel him strip your yoga pants and panties down to rest under the swell of your ass. In your half asleep dreamy haze you feel him spread your ass open wide which makes you stir
"Shhh, just go back to sleep." You feel him stroke your hair lovingly and slip two fingers into your waiting cunt. You whine and whimper as you grow needier. A quiet whisper "Fuckkkk yesss" can be heard as his long and thick veiny cock sinks into you so deep making you feel so amazingly full as usual.
Don't even get me started on how he gets so horny for you doing mundane tasks
"Lift your skirt for me, please." Missing the questioning tone and sounding more like a demand.
"WE'RE IN A FUCKING GROCERY STORE!"
"So? No one's gonna see, I promise." You didn't even get a chance to reply before he has your skirt in hand. Pulling your panties to the side and thrusting himself violently inside you, bottoming out. You choke out a gasp at being fully impaled on him so suddenly. He kisses your temple when he hears you hiss and whimper as tears start to sting your eyes from the stretch with no prep. You shiver as you hear him mumble a soft "Such a good little whore for me," with a sigh of content in your ear. He starts moving in and out of you slowly, only stopping when another person walks into the aisle.
He let's your skirt hang around you as normally as possible, while he goes in as deep as he can and stills. Grabbing something off the shelves and putting in infront of you as if you both were reading the label. His jacket covering both your sides from view while the cart blocks your front.
The man walks past you both and leaves the aisle, without missing a beat Eren starts pounding into you again. "See, no one will know. So just be a good slut for me while I use this pussy to jerk off my fat cock, yeah?" He ended up cumming deep inside you, making both of you moan louder than you should. He pulled out and tucked himself back in his jeans pulling your panties back into place. He cups your pussy pressing his fingers on top of the cotton, and rubbed rough circles onto your fucked out hole. "Keep all of it inside, baby. We don't want people to ask questions if it starts to drip onto the floor."
How he'd just walk up to you on the couch and spread your legs while you watched you favorite show. He is very happy to see his personal fucktoy so ready for him, splayed out on the couch naked. Wordlessly laying between your thighs, taking his time to eat you out hard bringing you to atleast 3 orgasms before sitting up and sinking his cock into your needy pussy.
He whines so loud and deliciously as he buries himself to the base. He lifts your legs and pushes them to your chest, allowing him to go impossibly deeper. The scream that you let out when he starting roughly humping into you was enough to turn him into an absolute mess. He starts POUNDING that pussy so hard that he barley notices the bulge that forms in your lower belly.
But when he does tho.... he goes absolutely feral with the sight of his cockhead poking out under your skin just bellow your belly button.
He forgot what it even feels like to cum anywhere besides your wet and warm holes. Like this man straight up refuses to cum if he can't stuff it deep inside you one way or another. Even if you ask him to cum somewhere else he only agrees if he can push it into you with his fingers afterwards.
This man's moans, whimpers and whines are fucking immaculate. He is so vocal and absolutely unafraid about being heard, he is so pussy whipped he couldn't care any less if he was being too loud.
In conclusion this man has me by the neck and the pussy. I just know he's packing ONG!😫
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bangarangdarling · 11 months
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blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so
Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.
Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.
Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.
Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go. 
Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe. 
Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.
Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling. 
Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo. 
It was the proverbial straw. 
“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”
Nothing. 
“HEY!”
He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead. 
Silence rang for a beat.
Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range. 
The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him.  “Geez, need attention much?” 
Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?” 
Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.” 
It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.
But, see. That just gave him an idea. 
Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all. 
“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,” 
He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude. 
“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly. 
“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”
It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up. 
“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”
“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.” 
Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified.  “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.
“Yeah?” 
“Can you come here?” 
The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.
“You tired?”
“Uh, no. I’m fine--”
“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm. 
There was a countdown, three, two, one...
A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs.  “Dude, what the hell?” 
“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”
“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?” 
Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth. 
“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?” 
Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.
“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.
God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking. 
Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.” 
Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move. 
“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,”  Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them. 
“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”
“Dude, Eddie, noooo!” 
“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.” 
“You guys, let’s just go already,” 
“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,” 
The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together. 
It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.
What can he say? He’s a weak man. 
“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in. 
“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.” 
A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that. 
The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!” 
The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly. 
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nariism · 7 months
Text
Wriothesley has fallen asleep on the job.
It's not a surprise, not in the least. He's spent more time at the Fortress of Meropide than he has at home lately, overworking himself with an unfathomable amount of new inmates to house.
He's always taken his work quite seriously, both as a show of gratitude to the people of Fontaine and to protect his pride in having the most inescapable prison in the entire nation. And more than that, he's always refused your help much to your chagrin.
You find him asleep at his desk, piles of paperwork buried under his head as a makeshift pillow. He snores softly, meaning that he must have just knocked out recently.
A quiet sigh escapes you as you tread over to his sleeping form, draping the coat dangling on the back of his chair over his body as a temporary blanket. Fontaine is chilly, and despite his unusual warmth, risking Wriothesley getting sick is the last thing you want in the world.
It strikes you then. He's asleep. Asleep, in front of you, completely vulnerable and unknowingly allowing you to observe every part of him without judgement: the slow rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathes, human and alive; the hair that's fallen out of place and over the eyes which you love so much; the light murmurs of his recited dreams leaving his lips yet unintelligible.
You're surprised that it's never dawned on you before. You've rarely had the chance to see him sleep.
Wriothesley always roused before the crack of dawn, waking you after him with his lips pressed to your forehead. "Good morning, pretty," he would greet you before taking off for the day. And he was so warm to hold at night that you would often fall asleep before him, comforted by the slow beating of his heart against your ear.
It's a strange sight to see him looking so unguarded, all evidence of the torment of his busy day washed out of his expression as he snores.
You shouldn't. You know you shouldn't. But you can't help it. The Kamera is pulled from your bag before you can stop yourself, fingers nimbly getting the lens ready without stirring him. You're just about to take a picture worth a thousand words when—
"Mornin', pretty."
You almost drop the Kamera out of surprise, clutching it to your chest while you glare at the smugness written all over his face. There's a gruffness and slur to his voice that makes you weak in the knees, so unlike how you're used to hearing him in the mornings when he's already had his tea.
His steely eyes peer up at you curiously as you try and stammer out a weak excuse, to little avail. You should have known that the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide would have sharp enough senses to wake with even the smallest disturbance. He sits up straight, the coat hanging on his shoulders falling off onto the seat.
(It makes him melt that you've attempted to keep him warm, even though it seems like you've come all the way out to the Fortress at such an hour just to check up on him.)
He looks around. "No one escorted you?"
You bashfully avert your eyes, fumbling around with your Kamera and trying pathetically to hide it behind your back as if you weren't caught red-handed already.
"The guards let me in."
"But you came alone?"
His frown deepens when you nod. Wriothesley gathers up his remaining papers into one pile and shoves them aside before striding over to you. "Have a guard escort you home. It's dangerous to go back alone," is his demand.
"You're not coming home tonight?" You ask quietly, lips pulling back into a small pout of disappointment. His heart aches at the thought that he may have been neglecting you in the last few days, even more than he had been neglecting himself.
"I have to finish up some things," he tells you with the slightest bit of guilt bleeding into his words. He runs a hand through his hair before sighing. "Why don't you stay here tonight?"
It's a lame offer, asking the love of his life to sleep in such a dinky, run-down place. But the light that explodes in your eyes and smile tell him that you don't care. You never would, so long as you were by his side.
"Okay," you whisper, and he kisses you in apology.
That night, at an hour so late that not even the prisoners make a peep, he realizes that your Kamera is still set down on the coffee table beside your resting form. He has drowned you in his coat and a spare blanket, laid you out across his office couch, and though it's not luxurious you seem to be resting well.
Just a few more days. A few more days of processing all of the new papers sent by Neuvillette and he would be free to come home to your loving arms and fall asleep in your shared bed. For now, this would have to suffice.
The man gathers you up into his arms and slides beneath you, holding you atop his chest like he always does. He's careful not to wake you as he settles in to call it a night.
There's a faint shutter as he holds the device up in the air and takes a picture of the both of you, with your body curled up against his and his arm around your waist.
He presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. "Goodnight, pretty."
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("When did you take this?!"
"You don't like it?" He asks you nonchalantly, eyes busy with reading the morning Steambird.
"I didn't say that," you grumble, flustered at how he's holding you in the image. Did he always hold you so close? So protectively?
Wriothesley smiles at you with his lips on the rim of his mug. "You snore, by the way."
"Shut up!")
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© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
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begginmonty · 6 months
Note
Thinking about Mike avoiding you after you saw him beating that man in the fountain ‘cause in his mind you think that he’s a monster and never want to see him again
(Sorry for any mistake, that’s not my first language)
dont apologise hun!
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you worked at the coffee stand in the mall. wasn't the best pay and perhaps the hours were sometimes a little too long but you got to work in the same building as your boyfriend so, it wasn't the end of the world.
you were busy cleaning the counter, "is that mike-? y/n! y/n!" your co-worker called you and you quickly walked over to where she was, following her eyesight and suddenly there was your boyfriend tackling a man into a fountain. "oh my god" you mumbled, practically jumping over the counter and running to where you boyfriend was beating the ever living fuck out of some guy. but you knew mike, he wasn't one just to spring attacks, there had to be a good cause for this, a decent enough reason. you watched as your boyfriend was pulled off the guy by jeremiah, his coworker, and everyone was crowding around, and thats when mike had made eye contact with you. there was a confused look upon your face which he mistook for fear and disappointment. "wha-" you had mouthed, motioning to what had happened but he quickly had looked away.
you'd picked mike up from the police station that evening and he hadn't muttered a single word to you nor made eye contact with you. the car journey was silent, and when you arrived home he just got out the car and into the house. you'd sighed and gotten out the car, and walked into the house, max shared a quizzical look at you. "yeah, i dont know. thanks for watching abby though" you handed her a $30 and she said her goodbyes before leaving.
"what's wrong with mike?" abby had asked, you didn't want to tell her anything. so you told her he'd had a long day and that she should be getting ready for bed. you tucked her up in bed and left her to sleep.
the evening carried on and you wanted to let mike collect himself before you spoke to him, he needed space sometimes and you totally respected that. but by like 10pm, he was still in the room. you had knocked a few times on the door but you were met with silence. he finally emerged from the bedroom around 11pm to find you sat on the couch watching tv. "baby?" you spoke up, but he ignored you and went off into the kitchen to grab water, "mike? hello?" you'd stood up now and made your way over to him, blocking him so he couldn't walk away, he was face forward, leaning against the counter staring out into space "baby, please talk to me" mike hated how your voice sounded sad, he didn't want to make you sad.
"i'm not mad at you or anything mike, i promise, i just want you to talk to me" you said softly, walking behind him and hugging him from behind, "im not sure what happened but i promise you mike, i am not mad at you or anything like that, okay?"
"im sorry" his voice was quiet, "i just, uh, it looked like he was taking the kid y'know, and then you were there and you looked scared of me and i-"
"i could never be scared of you" you mumbled into his shoulder, pressing a kiss there "we can talk about it later, lets just go to bed yeah?"
mike nodded, and the two of you went to bed.
(its a bit shit soz<;3)
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igotanidea · 2 months
Text
A moment of weakness: Damian Wayne x reader
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part 1 : Family rules
***
Everything that happened after seemed like a blur.
Her hand in his when they were sneaking out the ballroom.
Escaping watchful gazes of both their fathers.
The rustle of her dress on the carpeted floor that muffled the sound of their feet.
And then.
His lips on hers.
One of his hand on her cheek, and the other on her waist as he was pulling her closer to him. Stubbornly yet lacking the proficiency his older brothers may possess. Which was perfectly understandable since she was the first girl to capture Damian Wayne’s attention. The first that put so much charm on him that beyond all that hateful, snarky attitude something much more delicate and caring started to bloom.
“I still hate you…” she whispered pulling back, feeling the need to make it very clear that this kiss was stemming only from that emotion and nothing beyond. Even if her ragged breath and dilated pupils were enough of an evidence of her lying.
“Naturally” he responded. His rapidly beating heart and the sensation of her body in his arms causing this young boy to almost tremble. At this moment, when they were finally alone for the first time in years since they have known each other he was torn in two directions. Not making a fool of himself in front of her and proving that he wasn’t a foolish boy who could be easily charmed but a strong, capable and dominant man. Regardless of the fact they were both seventeen.
“I hate you too. And if you think there’s something more just because of the fact I’m kissing you right now you’re gravely mistaken.” Damian whispered brushing his lips over hers again, already intoxicated and losing his cool head.
“Kissing?” she mocked melting into him and snuggling closer to his embrace “Didn’t notice…”
“Mhm…”
“We shouldn’t…”
‘You’re absolutely right…”
“No one should know about it…”
“No one will. You won’t tell anyone out of fear of daddy dearest, right?” he looked at her with eyes shining with the familiar mischief and mockery.
“And you will keep the steam out of your mouth due to embarrassment, won’t you?” she retorted, matching his level of sarcasm.
And then they kissed again.
Her hands in his hair, running through soft dark strands.
His arms wrapping around her securely as if never wanting to let her go.
Just a little moment of weakness they both would deny if asked.
But for now, with no one around they decided to indulge in the lack of rationality, with both intensity and shyness of two teenagers confused by their own emotions.
So good. So right. So messed up.
Lost in the best meaning of the word, as if the world stopped turning and even existing just because they wanted to cherish the moment.
Foolish little kids.
Torn from the fantasy by the sound of cameras and flashes of light shooting straight into their eyes.
“Damian! Damian, look here!”
“Damian, who’s your mystery girl!?”
“Come on, pretty one, smile for the picture!”
“What is your name girl?!”
Too many questions and sounds for the person who was not used to having any attention at all. And being attacked by paparazzi and reporters who were skilled in intimidating was simply too much for poor Y/N whose head started spinning immediately.
‘Hey, I know that girl!” one of the scribblers yelled “she’s the daughter of Wayne’s competitor on the market!”
Shit.
Now that was a problem.
While her first instinct was to run away and hide in whatever hole would appear first, Damian stood proudly without an ounce of emotion on his face, preventing her from doing anything stupid or reckless.
And that cold, strong façade, making him look just like his father, finally got the reporters to stop yelling and taking photos.
“leave.” He said coldly spurring on another wave of shouting. ‘LEAVE. You were not invited here nor asked to interrupt the private life of the habitants. Your sole purpose on this gala was to focus on the official part. Therefore, you are trespassing beyond your scope of passage. And that will not be tolerated. I will not repeat myself. LEAVE NOW unless you want to deal with the consequences.”
Under any other circumstances this would probably be grotesque, but no one wanted any trouble from the son of the Bruce Wayne aka Bruce Wayne himself, so the intruders finally retreated.
“Damian—”
“I’ll take care of it.” He retorted coldly moving away from her turning back to his cold self, hiding in the shell.
“But what if-?” she could only fear what were to happen if the photos of them together leaked into the press – or worse – internet.
“I said I’ll take care of it, haven’t you heard?!” he snapped.
“Oh I heard loud enough! You’re just not very capable in taking care of things, forgive my audacity. So are you really that surprised I’m skeptical about it?!”
“Don’t you dare—” he took step forward reaching for her arm but she wriggled out swiftly
“You stay the hell away from me Wayne.”
“No. you stay the hell away from me Y/L/N.”
“With pleasure!”
“Great!”
“fine!” she cried out crossing arms over her chest
“fine!” he barely held back from sticking tongue out at her
And with that they got back to the gala, using two different ways to not be seen together and pretended like nothing had happened.
***
The next day, Sunday passed without anything extraordinary happening.
Not a word from either of them.
Even if she was reaching for her phone countless times ready to shot him a quick message and check up if he was doing fine.
Even if he was one foot out the door every time a thought of her crossed his mind.
“Idiot” she was thinking throwing her phone away for a hundredth time scrolling through her contact list.
“Harridan.” he was smacking his forehead trying to get some sense in his brain throwing the coat away and retrieving into his room.
***
And then there was Monday.
One of those grey-clouds, rainy, windy Monday when getting out of bed and focusing on duties seemed impossible.
But from the moment she walked through the school door something felt odd. Just like in those stupid teenage movies she was met with whispers and furtive glances followed by malicious giggles and finger pointing.
The hell?
Y/N barely got to her locker when one of the most popular and obviously, the meanest girl in school crossed her way slamming the locker door into her face.
“Lisa.” Y/N almost rolled her eyes.
“Y/N.” the self-appointed queen B grinned like a predator “did anything fun this weekend?”
“Are you trying to make yourself feel better now or something?”
“Don’t you dare talk back at me, you little slut!”
“I’m sorry, what did you just call me?!”
“oh, it’s not just my opinion.” Lisa smiled mockingly “the whole internet keeps talking about the entertainment you got yourself on Saturday.”
“What--?”
Lisa clicked on something in her phone and put the screen into her face.
So it was officially settled.
Damian fucking Wayne was completely helpless when it came to dealing with things.
And the fact that she was looking at the picture of them both, taken at the gala, showing each details of them kissing and holding each other was enough of a prove.
All the problems stemming from the leak put aside as she focused on one thing and one thing only.
She was going to kill him.
***
Meanwhile Damian was greeted in school with charming smiles and encouraging shouts.
It’s always easier for the boys.
“Was she good?” one of the boys smirked at him.
“What-?”
“Y/N Y/L/N. Was she good?”
“Huh?” none of that were making any sense to Damian who frowned in confusion.
And then he saw the same photo and the blood drained from his face.
Someone was going to pay for this.
That is- if he could actually convince Y/N that he had nothing to do with the publishing of it. That it was his intention to actually protect her himself from scandal.
However, judging by the way she was walking his way, with the rage of a buffalo, it was going to be rather complicated.  
@gabriiiiiiii @6000-fandoms @jinviktor
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suguruplsr · 7 months
Note
ex geto as you roommate (love your work🩷🩷)
Ex suguru as your roommate!
✰ ✰ ✰ roommate!ex!suguru headcannons !
જ⁀➴ mind was racing, heart beating, thighs quivering, toes sh****** — when i saw this <3 and ty ilyyyy
,,roommate!ex!suguru x ex!fem!reader , suguru is toxic a bit , and a asshole , he brings girls over , soft sex , idk 🧍🏾‍♀️
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Roommate!Ex!Suguru who you broke up with after finding out he was talking to multiple girls on campus. even a few you knew and smiled to your face while their nudes were in their messages with him. but you didn't have any choice but to stay with him, only as his roomate of course.
Roommate!Ex!Suguru who finds the changes in not only how you two act with each other, but how you live together, a nuisance. his room no longer cluttered with a few of your belongings, the smell of your body wash fading away in his sheets, (he didn't wash them and his pillow case for nearly 3 weeks), your voice waking him softly, the sound of the front door closing right as he wakes up with no aroma of food, all of it was gone.
Roommate!Ex!Suguru who can't handle it. hearing your voice through the thin walls, talking to some guy over the phone. he's sure he knows the guy. a goodie two-shoes with absolutely no game at all. at least in suguru's opinion. it's bewildering that the guy even got you to the point of talking to him in that oh so sultry voice that you used to use on suguru himself. even if it was directed towards him. just hearing it made his heart, and something else jump.
Roommate!Ex!Suguru who starts waking up early. up at 8 am, drinking a cup coffee, (his 4th cup), with nothing but a dark pair of sweats on, and his hair messy and untied. he’d scroll through his phone, not responding to his messages of girls he hasn’t talked to after the break up. all just to see you up and ready for a good 15 minutes before you leave for nearly 12 hours, and he's sure you're not that busy, you're so cute avoiding and ignoring his existence.
Roommate!Ex!Suguru who's just so nosy, and doesn't know what to do with knowing that you're actually moving on from him. so he begins to tell you little lies, "that guy? no, the really smart one. yea, he's just fucking the psychology professor for a good grade.", "i heard some guy got your number yesterday. don't worry about who told me- he has herpes!" , "did you hear about that rumor of him and his sister? yes i saw that clown kissing her” he can’t let you leave him just yet, maybe he should start threatening people?
Roommate!Ex!Suguru whose lies are just so funny to you. you know what is true and what’s not. and you also know he’s just being a huge dick. but you can’t help but indulge him just a tiny bit and cut off a few guys just to see how his eyes twinkle, with a small, “i told you so.” it makes you feel jittery, desperately wanting to just, ‘burst his bubble’, and call him out on his bull.
Roommate!Ex!Suguru who begins to realize that despite you listening to his words, you aren’t as affected as he wishes you were. he knows it’s wrong to be upset that his, not-so-good, actions aren’t enough to push you over the edge. over back to him. he can still hear you talking to that one guy. you met him like a month ago and you’ve been going on dates with him every single week. he knows his ego is too big, especially to think that he’s better than some smart, preppy, cute guy. but he can’t help it.
Roommate!Ex!Suguru who begins to get petty. talking to new girls and finding quick fuck buddies whose names he can’t remember. but what he eventually did, which definitely pissed you off, was bring them home. sneaking them in the house and fucking them closer to your shared wall. acting clueless when you cuss him out in the morning. you never showed your face to them though, knowing that he picks a new girl every week so it was best just avoid the temporary girls. maybe he never saves their numbers because even he finds their shrills annoying. it makes you facepalm, the dick is never that good.
Roommate!Ex!Suguru who actually hooks up with one girl more than once. surprising you when she walks out his room, finding you, who was making a bowl of cereal before you get ready for work.
“And who the hell are you..?” you sigh at the sound of her snob tone. but you can’t blame her. “i’m his roomate, and i’m leaving.” short and sweet. respectful. and yet she just had to open her mouth, “of course. geto wouldn’t fuck someone like you..” she trails off under her breath, making you whip your head with a roll of you eyes. “oh please. suguru, has fucked me more times than i can count. and you aren’t going to disrespect me where i live, so good day ma’am.” you open the door, a smug look on your face as she stomps out.
“did you really have to do that..” suguru slumped out of his room with a yawn, feigned annoyance on his pretty face, but you could tell he felt rather happy from the crinkle of his eyes. you aren’t sure why he’s obviously deriving some joy from seeing you kick out one of his hoes. but it makes your lips curl in a smile. “stop having sex with girls while i’m here. plus i think her wig was slipping.” your eyes soften at the sight of him covering his croaky laugh. you follow in suite with a few chuckles as you two actually continue the conversation, talking for nearly an hour before you have to go.
Roommate!Ex!Suguru who you begin to get more comfortable with compared to before. the tension between you two lessening within weeks. you two even continued having your late night horror movies, which you stopped after breaking up, or talking to each for hours about gossip that you two bring home. hell, both of you spent two hours talking about the guy you’ve been seeing, piecing up to the fact that he may have been a bad ex of some girl you knew. suguru was fairly happy when you called the guy and broke things off.
Roommate!Ex!Suguru who starts to change as your friendship heals. becoming more involved in things he actually likes, cutting off on his smoking and drinking habits, getting good grades, working out. you knew he was genuine about his growth in becoming more healthy from him doing it unconsciously and without question.
Roommate!Ex!Suguru whose change slowly attracts you. its refreshing. but you knew from his glances and small intimate touches, that he still wanted you. you thought he’d be over you after nearly 5 months but you’ve decided to wait. maybe he’s caught on to your own fleeting actions? anytime you’re touching him, he makes it a mission to have your hands on him longer than they should be.
Roommate!Ex!Suguru who gets bolder after a small incident of him accidentally cornering you…
“that’s the salt.” “oh..” you sigh playfully as he puts the salt back, searching for the sugar again and moving around you. you admit, it was kinda scary how his taller build just towered over you. large arms going around your head and— wait what?
pausing, you place the knife down on the cutting board and look up. suguru’s jaw was way above you, one of his long and large arms around your whole body to reach up to the cabinet as he searched for the sugar shaker. turning, you tried to move away but his other arm blocked your way.
and of course. with the way your kitchen was styled, part of the counter blocked the other side. “suguru….” your voice comes out quieter than you wish it did, so meek and quiet. “suguru..” you say it louder, making him halt and look down at you. god, you looked adorable, your eyes trying to look anywhere but him, biting your lip. gesturing to the sink, you stammer, eyes flickering up to him only to look away. “you’re kinda..” “oh- sorry”
suguru immediately moves away, watching silently as you wash your hands. he could tell how nervous you were from how you had let your hands stay in the water a little longer than needed, taking a deep breath. so cute.
Roommate!Ex!Suguru who lets his hands linger on you more, sometimes guiding your body when moving around you, or helping you out. “your bonnet’s falling a bit, lemme fix that right quick.” and you know it doesn’t take that long to adjust your bonnet. you know it doesn’t take that long to get a piece of lint off you. you know it doesn’t take that long to fix your necklace. you know. yet you never speak out on it. but maybe that’s why he keeps doing it.
Roomate!Ex!Suguru who makes small innuendos when you least expect it. loving the small gasp that escapes your lips, head whipping to him with traces of your ice cream on your lips. “what? i’m just saying~” he’d tease, wiping off the ice cream and licking it off his thumb. the tension quickly easing as you slap his shoulder with a huff.
Roomate!Ex!Suguru who knows you both aren’t shy of knowing each other's bodies. but you two can’t help but act like little virgins who can’t handle being near each other without getting nervous. it’s like falling in love all over again, but with sexual tension. and it's killing him. you both know what you want so why not act on it and try again. together.
Roomate!Ex!Suguru who works you up, annoying you and turning you on all in one day only to shut you up with a kiss. which leads to both of you eventually stumbling onto the couch..
“m’so sorry baby.. should’ve been better” you huff as suguru mutters the nth apology, his feather like kisses on your neck numbing the pain of his cock sliding into to you for the first time in what feels like forever. “i know— um, oh fuck.. sugu, please, it’s okay! i..” your whimpers make suguru’s eyes lock onto you, leaving little scratches on his chest.
he was in deep. cock pushed to the hilt and right at your sweet spot. just pressing it. but he just wouldn’t move, your pussy was so tight, so he could just grind into you and he’s sure he’d cum. “s-sorry baby. i’m just so sorry n’ i can’t think. fuckin’ pussy is a-amazing..” suguru closes his eyes tight. his voice having an undertone of a whine as he slowly rocks his cock in and out of you.
“uh— mm, your so deep suguru~ just like this.. still need ta’ get used to it” your moan has a chuckle leaving his lips. both of you were in a drunk haze of sex and emotions, unable to even fuck properly. “yea? o-ok. that’s fine. but please tell me you’re gonna take me back after this. fuck. really wanna be with you again. i love you so much and—“
you cut him off like a small kiss, a ditzy smile playing on your lips, “of course you idiot. i don’t just let anyone fuck me. not on a couch of all things. a-and i love you too.” your nails dig into his shoulder at the feeling of his cock dragging in slowly. it made you feel delirious, and him leaning down to continue the kisses topped it off, speaking between them, “then i’m not fucking you. i’m making— ha, love to you..”
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dreamisols · 8 months
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—your boyfriend has a cute but questionable habit —wc: 1,140 ; sleepy proofread —fluff, birthday fluff, rin is (squeezes him gently), some personal headcanons, and slight younger rinnie personality headcanons —rimi's ramble: happiest birthday to rin itoshi my boy uee i love him so much <3 also halfway into writing this i realized how soft i always make him but i'd gladly ramble about that too
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it's been well over a year into your relationship with rin itoshi.
and at this juncture, you could say that he's opened up to you about nearly everything. it took time, and you were as patient as ever in his eyes. he showed you everything about himself: the good, the bad, what he wants to be, and who he used to be. you can't be fooled by his grumpy persona and harsh body language, not when he finally bared his whole raw heart for you to hold and love. you two knew practically everything about each other.
which might be why you noticed rin slowly picking up some of his old habits from childhood.
for instance, he'd wake you up sometimes from your summer midday naps to offer going out and buying some popsicles from a convenience store nearby to battle the afternoon heat. despite your lazy protests, you'd drag your feet and go with him. and you'd watch as his teal eyes carefully scan the selection of icy treats inside the freezer despite knowing he'd always grab the blue twin pops.
another is when he'd take you to aquariums for dates more often. he once told you in passing that his brother used to love taking him to aquariums when they both couldn't sit and overlook the beach. and now because of how frequently you two have dates there, you two are practically regarded as regulars by the employees (they've joked to rin once about how he should propose to you in one of their scenic spots in the future; rin choked on the water he was drinking).
but the most prominent one is how rin would have this mindless habit of asking permission for the most no-brainer, useless, and quite frankly, idiotically endearing things.
you didn't question it at first. they were honestly all reasonable things to ask from someone who's in a relationship for the first time. albeit he was extremely awkward the first few times around, with him struggling to get the words out, you eventually got used to his small requests and questions.
a small "may i come in?" after every time he knocks on your door whenever he's over at your place.
a shy offer of "do you want me to brush your hair?" when he notices you dozing off a bit after a fresh evening shower.
even a "is it alright if i stay out late with the team?" text once every blue moon whenever he's dragged to their shenanigans (completely against his will).
rin may be struggling with socializing and understanding others' social cues well enough, but mama itoshi didn't raise a disrespectful boy.
you really haven't paid much attention to this habit of his until his birthday.
"i... i can do anything with you..?" rin questions, almost in disbelief. nodding, you parrot his words back, "yep! it's your special day today, so everything's your call!"
"anything...?" he asks again. and like earlier, you nod once more.
there was a beat of silence that accompanied the shocked look rin gave you.
"obviously, everything within reason..!" you cough nervously, afraid rin might've gotten the wrong idea or got too pressured by your supposed surprise, "we also don't have to go out or anything... like i said, whatever you-"
"can... we hold hands...?"
you stop your frantic rambling when your mind processed his words. your gaze is directly at him, but he's staring at the ground like he finally discovered something groundbreaking. the way he spoke sounded as if he was in utter disbelief. it was like if his crush told him that they liked him back, or like he was told that he won the grand prize of something big.
which is confusing.
"y-yes we can?" you quirk one of your brows with a rather unsure smile, "we often hold our hands together, rinnie. we even interlock fingers."
your boyfriend still has that dumb surprised look casted on the wooden floor, "oh.. yeah..."
you were about to question the tone of his voice when he perks up so suddenly and goes on a tangent,
"can we wear matching scarfs when we go out, then? it's practical for the temperature. can we use the one you bought us... that one with the sanrio dog you said reminded you of me because of soccer— pochacco?"
he sits upright and looks up at you with eyes filled with so much anticipation that you can't bear to look away, "we can wear that, right?"
you nod again, "yes rinnie, we can wear that out. like you said, it's cold anyways-"
your excited boyfriend cuts you off once more, like an overly excited child, "if it's cold, can we cuddle? oh, maybe we can also get a mini cake from the bakery nearby? or better yet a parfait— can we share? i don't like overly sweet food..." he gasps softly, like he's struck with the most genius idea, and looks up at you once more for permission.
"can i kiss you..? but.. like, a lot-"
you finally squish his cheeks to stop his mouth from blabbering more and more words that make you both want to squeal at his cuteness and shake him like a dog does with a chew toy because of how annoyingly stupidly adorable he is.
"rin itoshi." the man sits straight at the use of his full name. "i love you with all my heart but oh my god if you ask permission from me for yet another stupid thing i might kiss you and or muffle you with the couch pillow." as if for good measure that your point gets across, you flick rin's forehead softly.
"you know that you're free to spoil yourself, match anything with me, and indulge in any form of affection you're comfortable with." you leave a soft kiss on his cheek, which elicits a gasp from your boyfriend.
"so no more of these useless questions, okay?"
rin nods three times, still looking at you with all the love in the world. your black cat of a boyfriend has magically morphed into this puppy of a man, you can practically envision his imaginary tail wagging from excitement. but you don't mind this side of rin—the side of his that allows his inner emotions, his inner youth run free. if anything, it's a testament to how much he's grown comfortable with you.
your lips form a small smile, your eyes reflect all your love back at him.
just as you were about to change the topic, you catch his teal eyes drift to your lips, back up to your eyes, then down to the floor.
three seconds pass.
"can we-" "you just want the kiss on the lips, don't you?"
if it results in more opportunities for kisses, then yes, he doesn't mind asking all these stupid nonsensical questions.
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likes and reblogs are appreciated, but please don’t copy or repost my work!
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American Psycho Killer
Summary: Leon S. Kennedy, a man who’s taken his duty of protection very seriously. He’ll do anything to ensure the safety of people, especially the safety of one particular girl.
Warning: stalking, murdering, mentions of planned murder, mentions of drugs and drug abuse, gore (kinda), death, masturbation (m receiving), smut, creampie, yan!leon, not proofread lol, fem reader, psychopathic.
A/N: I did my research for this as I wanted this to sound a little spooky teehee :3
“I got you under my skin” - Mirotic, TVXQ!
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Psychopath vs. Sociopath. The popular argument in between psychologists.
Leon never really cared enough to get himself checked out but there were signs. He didn’t feel empathy for others, his moves were calculated and he’s highly educated. He has a well paying career, he pretends to be this normal guy when in reality, he’s psychopathic.
What defines a psychopath apart from a sociopath? Psychopaths, at least in Leon’s case, cannot form established bonds with others. He doesn’t feel guilt or sad when he sees a person die by his hands.
His job already requires him to kill so this was an easy feat. He doesn’t care. He can’t feel anything.
He couldn’t feel anything until you came along.
Leon lived in this apartment complex just downtown of a city in the state. The apartment was big and had security cameras all around. It was well guarded and the people were kind.
When he saw the new neighbor move in, he felt weird. He narrowed his eyes as he watched you from the window of his apartment loft. He was growing suspicious at his behavior. Why did his chest feel warm? Why is his heart beating fast? Why are his hands sweating?
He didn’t know. Up to this point he didn’t feel anything but you brought something to him and it made him uneasy. So he decided to keep an eye on you.
Days passed after you moved in and you settled just fine. The old lady at the end of the hall brought you cookies, a sweet old lady. She talked to Leon a few times and he didn’t think much of her other than just as his neighbor. Nothing more.
But if you were to ask him what he thought of you? Oh boy, he thought a lot of things. Both good and bad.
Being a psychopath isn’t praised in society. Only 1% of the population is considered one and no one knew he belonged to that percentage. And he’d like to keep it that way; his excuse for his behavior was his job. He always left early in the morning and came back late at night. A manipulator and a liar is what he was, and a very good one.
He’s seen you leave your apartment from time to time. You’d take out the trash, went out with your friends- he’s seen everything you do.
Leon isn’t stupid, he’s attentive and observant. He leaves no trace behind of the murder he just committed. The male neighbor across from your door saw you one day when you walked out of your door with a short dress.
The man eye-fucked you so much he literally almost started drooling. Leon cringed and found him repulsive. How dare he look at you like you were some meat on the market?
He felt anger and disgust. No one should look at you like that. No one.
So, one summer day, he made up an excuse to visit him. Something about a water pipe connecting to his sink that didn’t make it work. Like I said, Leon is a good manipulator and a good liar. He always gets what he wants.
The male neighbor invited him in and closed the door behind him. He offered Leon a beer, to which he refused. He found liquor and other substances repulsive. He walked over to the man’s kitchen sink and began to inspect it.
He noticed the man’s sink had a garbage disposal unit. That’s pretty dangerous, he thought to himself.
He walked over to where the man was sitting. The male neighbor was sitting on his reclining couch as he watched a game with a cup of beer on the stand next to him. The neighbor was so engrossed on the football game that he didn’t notice Leon slipping something into his drink.
Leon was smart. Dangerously smart. He knew everything when it came to death- he worked in the DSO, of course he knew some things. He knew the effects of alprazolam and what it does to the brain.
So when he lied to a psychiatrist about his insomnia and got prescribed some Xanax, he crushed a high dosage into fine powder and slipped it into the man’s beer.
Stupid bastard, Leon thought to himself.
He watched as the male neighbor took a sip of his drink and Leon waited. Xanax is a powerful drug, can cause hallucinations and make your brain become a little too calm. You’re bound to fall asleep at some point. And with the amount Leon dropped into his drink, he knew he’d knock out sooner than later.
After a few minutes of “tinkering” with the man’s sink. He got up and went to check on the man again.
And sure as hell did the man find himself in a profound slumber. His snores layering with the sound of the TV.
Too easy, Leon smirked to himself. He put on some elastic gloves and made sure he wore shoes that wouldn’t leave footprints. In case things would get messy, of course.
He poured the man’s drink down the sink to get rid of the evidence. He then thought hard about how he should go about this.
There’s many different ways one can commit murder but Leon wanted the cleanest one. So he came up with one.
He brought pans to the stove and made it seem like the man was cooking something for himself. He partially cooked a stupid egg and left it there. Leon went back to where the man was sitting and dragged him out of his couch and towards the kitchen. Since this man’s place was small, the kitchen and dining area were joined together. He sat there man down on the dining table, which happened to be near the stove. He took out the man’s phone and put it in the man’s hand to make it seem like he was using it.
Leon went back to the kitchen and continued to prepare the scene. He took out bottles of alcohol the man had and poured them down the drain to make it look like he’d had a few drinks. He took a single cup from the cup rack and filled it up halfway. With the cup and bottle of whiskey in both hands, he walked back to the table where the man was sitting and laid them on the table. He took the half empty cup and smeared the man’s lip on the rim. You must cover every single detail.
He even poured a little alcohol into the man’s already parted lips. Leon walked back to the stoved and kept the gas on. Now all he needed to do was wait and let nature do its thing.
Leon walked out of his apartment, pretending to still be talking to the man since there was a camera on the corner of the hall. As the door opened, the camera couldn’t record that Leon had been talking to himself. It made the act believable.
With a smile, Leon walked back to his place and stayed there.
A few hours passed and it started to get dark outside, each resident was inside their unit and ready to go to sleep when the fire alarm began to sound. Everyone was forced to evacuate the premises as the firefighters came to the scene.
You saw as the ambulance brought out a stretcher into the building. Someone was still inside, you thought to yourself as your eyes widened and your heart rate increased. You tried to move but felt someone’s hand on your arm, it was Leon.
“Don’t. It’s too dangerous,” he replied in a serious tone as he stared at you with those cold blue eyes. You pinched your brows together. He was right. If you were to try and save the person, you’d die in the process. You nodded defeatedly and he let go of your arm. He stood there watching you- analyzing you.
You had a good heart, he thought. Too good for his liking. That made you an easy target for people and he loathed the idea of people exploiting your kindness. He vowed to protect you, to mark his hands dirty for you.
As the EMT brought back the stretcher, you could see a person lying there lifeless. All the other residents immediately started to mutter amongst themselves, some started to cry and others gasped in shock. You simply stood there, wide eyed and jaw slack. Leon’s expression remained unchanged as he watched you react to the man’s death. The man deserved it, he thought to himself.
Couldn’t you see that he was protecting you? You’ll come around eventually, he thought.
As the ambulance left the area, the firefighters started to clear the smoke as the police arrived. The police began to do their investigation as the firefighters checked the unit and deemed it good after clearing out the fire and the smoke. One police officer began to make her way to the apartment as the other stayed behind with the residents to ask questions.
Leon was a smooth talker. A trait most psychopaths had. He could get himself out of any situation and he could lie. So when the police asked him what had happened, Leon simply replied with, “I’m not sure. I went to his apartment to check his water supply as my sink stopped working and he lived next to me. I noticed he was making himself some food but I was too busy checking our pipes. He reeked of alcohol and barely spoke to me,” Leon’s tone was different. He sounded likey he spoke the truth.
You couldn’t help but listen to his words. To you, they are true. You saw him walk out of the man’s apartment.
The investigation was deemed as self-manslaughter. The police believed that the man suffered from deliberate alcohol poisoning which caused him to pass out in the process of cooking himself some food.
This made news headlines. Everyone believed the story but they thought the man was stupid enough to cook while he was drunk. Many of the residents believed it, he was a known alcoholic. Leon was never caught.
He was watching you from the window, months after the incident occurred. You had just come back from your college lecture. Leon knew. He stalked you, he followed you.
He knew your weekly routine. Monday through Thursday you had lectures. On Friday, you did work study. And the weekends were reserved for your personal time. He felt proud of you for balancing your life. You lived healthily and he couldn’t help but feel proud at your decisions. He knew you were smart enough to take care of yourself.
He knew the campus you went to, he knew the classes you were taking, he knew your major- he knew everything. But he pretended like he didn’t.
So when he saw you in the parking lot, right next to his car and you had trouble with your groceries, he couldn’t help but feel like your knight in shining armor. With his hardened expression, he asked you in his stern and serious voice, “Need some help?”
You smiled sheepishly and nodded, “Yeah… you don’t mind helping me?” You scratched your head awkwardly. On the inside, he found it adorable. But on the outside, he maintained his cool. He nodded and walked over to your car to retrieve the bags of groceries you bought. He was so strong he carried all the bags to your apartment door. You thanked him graciously and invited him inside.
“You can put them on the table, I’ll assort them,” you said as you took of your jacket and hanged it on the rack right next to the door. He nodded and walked over to the dining table, where he put all the bags with food. He took this opportunity to look around your place.
You kept it simple. It was nice, colorful, but nice. You had tons of books on your shelves, he took a mental note that you probably liked to stay indoors. He noticed the way your laptop and a few papers were scattered on the couch and coffee table, you were studious and dedicated to your education. He silently applauded you in his head. He liked that about you. You had goals and ambitions.
“Thank you, again. I owe you one,” you walked up to him and gave him a warm, genuine smile. He looked down at you and nodded again. Pretty smile, he thought to himself.
“It’s no problem, let me know if you need help with anything. I’m a couple doors away,” he replied with his usual serious tone. He remained unchanged, at least to you. To him, he felt like he about to combust into pieces. You were perfect, absolutely perfect.
Days went by and you found yourself talking to Leon more often. Or at least on the days you could. Leon was gone most of the day, he told you about his hectic work schedule and you couldn’t help but feel bad about him. So you decided to make him a small dinner with a note.
You left it on the front door of his apartment and walked back to yours. When Leon came back from work, it was 2:27 a.m. As he climbed up the steps of the stairs, he noticed something on his front door and felt slightly confused. He hasn’t ordered anything. He grew cautious and slowly approached his door. But then he saw your name on a sticky note. He quickly picked up the lunch box and walked inside his apartment.
Walking to his dining table, he read the note you left. Even your handwriting was perfect. The little swirls of the letters, almost writing in cursive made him want to keep you all to himself. He brought the piece of paper to his nose and sniffed it roughly, the paper crumbling in his hands as he could smell your scent on it. He groaned in pleasure as he could imagine your soft and small hands picking up a pen and write something just for him.
Just for him.
That thought alone almost set him off. He couldn’t eat dinner, not with the growing erection in his pants. He put the dinner you made in his freezer and quickly walked to his bedroom. He sat down on his bed and unbuckled his belt, throwing it somewhere on the floor. He pulled down his pants and boxers and watched as his cocked sprung freely, hitting his abdomen with a thwack.
His left hand held the piece of water with your handwriting and your scent while his right hand traveled to his cock. He brought the piece of paper to his nose again and closed his eyes in pure delight. Your scent was intoxicating- sweet vanilla with a hint of coffee. He grunted and moaned at the thought of your hands picking writing this note. He could picture your small hands wrapping his big cock, rubbing his base up and down as your scent infiltrated his airway.
His muscles tensed up as the thought of having you in between his legs made his cock throb. His stomach coiled as he felt himself nearing his orgasm. He could imagine your mouth sucking on his cock as he rammed his hips deeper down your throat, making you gag on him. He’d grab your hair and pull you closer to his pelvic area, having his blonde pubic hair rub against your face as you took his cock like a good girl.
He growled your name as he came in himself. White ropes shooting down at his palm as he tried to collect his cum and prevent it from staining any of his furniture. He sighed softly and laid his back on the mattress as he thought of you.
You drive him wild, he’d do anything for you. If it meant having you as his.
And that’s what drove him to kill more people. One day, he overheard you while both of you “coincidentally” went to get the mail from the lobby. You were speaking on the phone to a friend and he tried to make it seem like he wasn’t listening. But he was.
He heard you talk about how your ex is pestering you and giving you a hard time. That you cried last night because you two had an argument while he tried to get back together. His blood ran through his veins as you mentioned you cried.
He’d kill anyone who made this sweet and perfect angel cry. And that’s what his next murder was going to be. He went back to his apartment and began to stalk you again. As a government agent, he had privileges the common folk didn’t have. He was able to run a background check on you and found out your ex. To his surprise, he was your first and only relationship so far. He knew this guy probably broke your heart as your first relationship will always be your worst one.
He narrowed his eyes in anger as he found the man who broke your heart. And jotted down the information he had on him- his address, his workplace, his contact information, etc. Leon found everything thanks to his job.
When you heard news about your ex dying, you were shocked to see that he died from overdose. You’ve never known he was a drug addict, or at least that’s what Leon made it seem to be.
Leon drove all the way this man’s house and observed his routine. Your ex went to work, came back home, and went to the bar. An alcoholic, this made it easier for him.
Leon walked into the bar with his casual clothes, he spotted the man sitting on the bar counter with a drink already in his hand. He walked over and sat next to him as he ordered himself whiskey.
Your ex was already stupidly drunk, flirting up some poor girl who was just trying to talk to her friend. So he’s a creep too, he thought to himself as he took a sip his drink.
Why do you always find yourself around creepy and perverted men?
Leon looked around and made sure no one was watching him as slipped some stuff into his drink. Leon then continued to sip his drink and even chatted up the bartender.
The more your ex drank, the closer he got to an overdose. Turns out if you mix alcohol with prednisone, the effects could be fatal. Your ex would develop a liver damage that could potentially end his life if he kept drinking like he was right now.
It was getting late and Leon paid his tab. It was 11 PM and he decided he should go home. He wasn’t drunk, not yet at least. So he was perfectly capable of driving back to his apartment. But not your ex.
It was nearing closing time for the bar and the poor bartender saw your ex passed out on the counter. She didn’t know what to do but she tried waking him up.
Unresponsive. Her eyes widened slightly as she over to his side and checked for a pulse.
Flat line. She called the police and reported the death.
The police declared it suicide. They believed he voluntarily took drugs and alcohol at the same time.
In your mind, you were in denial but then you slowly began to think to yourself. He’s been acting weird and out of the ordinary when he’d talk about getting back together. It all made sense now. His aggressive behavior, his short temper… he was a drug addict and an alcoholic.
You attended the funeral, of course. And when you came back, Leon had been unlocking his door. He saw your puffy eyes as you had your heels in your hands. You looked like you’ve been crying- which you probably were. Leon paused as he stared at you, he nodded once at you, acknowledging your presence. He then spoke up in a tired voice, “Rough day?”
You nodded as you blinked slowly, “You could say that.”
He hummed in response and looked back down at his doorknob. Then he looked back to you, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Leon himself was tired as he just came back from a tough mission, but he would never be too tired for you. He pushed his exhaustion to the side and would rather take care of your needs for you.
You sighed and nodded slowly, “I could use a drink.”
He invited you over to his apartment and let you sit down on his couch as he took two glasses and one bottle of Jack. He walked over to the couch and set down the glasses and the bottle on the coffee table as he sat down next to you.
He began to pour for the both of you, not wanting you to work any more than you’ve already had.
“Cheers,” you muttered under your breath as you clanked your glass with his and chugged the liquid down your throat. The burning sensation almost making you forget about the mental strain you had.
He watched you as you set down the glass back down on the coffee table. Even in this state, you looked absolutely beautiful. He couldn’t wait to have you for himself. To prove to you that what you needed was a real man.
One thing let to another and you found yourself pinned under him on his bed. Your legs spread open as your knees rested on his shoulders. The head of his cock abusing your cervix, bruising it with brute force as he pulled out and pushed back in harshly. His balls smacking against your ass as his arms caged you under him. Your hands were on his shoulders, nails clawing deep into his flesh as the bed creaked from him pounding into you. The headboard hitting the wall behind the bed as he pulled out and forced his cock back into your tight walls. Your cunt clenching around his member as his hands gripped on your hair, forcing your head up so he could hear your stupid blabber.
He pulled out and rolled you over to your stomach. His left hand gripped on your waist as his right hand gripped the back of your neck and pushed your face down the sheets of his bed as he rammed his cock from behind you. Your ass jiggling as pounded harsher and harsher. Making sure you knew who you belonged to. He’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk.
You kept moaning his name against his pillow. Drool falling down your lips as tears rolled down your cheeks from the pleasure. You felt him even deeper from this position. His left hand gripped on your waist as it then traveled down to your ass and smacked, almost immediately seeing his hand print show in a pink and red hue on your skin. The burning sensation of the slap only made you more needy for his touch. His left hand found your hip and forced your body to clash against his as he fucked you straight to bliss.
Stars clouded your eyes as you whimpered and moaned. He cock throbbed and twitched inside of you as it stretched you. It hurt but it hurt good. His right hand gently squeezed the back of your throat, causing you to moan.
“Fuck- Leon- ‘mma cum-“ you spoke breathlessly in between moans and whimpers. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Cum for me,” he pressed a kiss on your shoulder blade as he felt you squirm under him. Your body convulsing as your orgasm took the best of you.
Your pussy clamped and clenched around him, wedging him with your juices. He didn’t stop, however. He kept pounding into you as the squelching sound echoed through his room.
He grunted and growled as he felt himself about to cum. He began to speed up and he let go of your neck. Now that both of his hands were on your hips, he gripped the fat of them and forced your body in and out of his cock. Bruising your cervix as your ass hit his hips. The sweat making your skin glisten under the shitty light of his room. You looked even more beautiful when he was fucking you like this.
His hot and sticky cum spurted out of his cock, coating your walls with a part of himself. In his sick and twisted mind, he branded you. He branded you with his essence and he didn’t regret it. He pulled out and heard you moan dumbly as he watched his cum slowly drip down the lips of your cunt to his bedsheet. He’d have to clean them but he didn’t care. He gave your ass a gentle squeeze as he patted your back for you to lay down. He knew you enjoyed it so much since you were on the brink of passing out.
You closed your eyes and felt as Leon cleaned you up. He took your hand and placed a gentle kiss on you knuckles. He was grateful to have you.
He wouldn’t mind killing again. Now that you were his in his mind, he’d go as far as killing every man who’s ever laid eyes on you.
For you, he’d become the world’s best serial killer.
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