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husbadosandfics · 28 days ago

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tokyo revengers ⇢ YOU’RE TOO DRUNK TO RECOGNIZE YOUR BOYFRIEND

ft. manjiro “mikey” sano, ken “draken” ryuguji, keisuke baji, takashi mitsuya, rindou haitani, ran haitani & shuji hanma

warnings: alcohol and a very hammered reader. the boys are more responsible than you <3

this is one of the rare occurrences wherein MIKEY actually shares his food. when you’ve finally given up on fighting him for the last bottle of alcohol, you start whining about your sudden hunger so he slides his plate of nachos over to you. he watches you eye it for a second before you drag your gaze up to him. “i have a boyfriend you know?” you tell him, your attempt to be menacing coming out pathetically as the attitude dripping from your tone is dampened by your slurred speech. mikey doesn’t need the club to be well lit. the strobe lights already illuminate your face enough for him to get a clear view of your glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. “i know,” he confirms with a tinge of exasperation, “because it’s me. mikey. your boyfriend.” he emphasizes his last words, his last effort to knock some sense into you but you only let out a cackle which catches him off guard. “nice try but mikey never shares his food.”

“that’s enough.” DRAKEN snatches the last of your many drinks for the night before you can gulp it down. being the perceptive boyfriend he is, he can already hear the complaint that’s about to slip from your tongue so he’s quick to pull you by the wrist, up from your seat and out the door. “where are you taking me?” you ask as clearly as your drunken state can let you—not so much but enough for your boyfriend to understand. “home.” at his curt reply, you yank your hand from his grip with a strength that startles even toman’s former vice president. “what the hell are you doing?” draken hisses lest you make a scene in public. “i’m calling my boyfriend,” you warn him, “bet he can kick your ass.” “yeah? i’d like to see him try.” he dismisses your empty threat, reaching for you once more to guide you to the exit but upon hearing a few whispers from prying strangers who are clearly getting the wrong idea, he stops in his tracks and turns to no one in particular, no longer caring about whatever commotion he may cause as his voice booms over the loud music: “i’m the boyfriend!”

“let me go!” you relentlessly thrash around, yelling out threats of calling your boyfriend, while BAJI—the boyfriend in question—pulls you into an empty alleyway to avoid any possible public humiliation for the both of you. “fuck,” he huffs out a breath, “when did you get this strong?” some time in the night, he’s tuned you out telling him off, on a sole mission to stop you from drinking more than you already have. and he’s relieved he managed to get you out of the bar—that is until he hears a weird noise coming from you. “wh-” baji doesn’t get the chance to utter a single word as you begin to throw up. in a panic, he hastily puts your hair up with his spare tie before rubbing soothing circles on your back. your hair looks real messy, he notes, but that’s the least of his worries. “you feeling better?” he checks on you after a while, only to be met by more retching, making him grumble to himself, “and i get an earful when i drink too much.”

MITSUYA is helping you get on your feet—sweet boyfriend he is—but as soon as you find your footing, you give him a hefty shove. “i have a boyfriend, jackass!” you seethe, too drunk to recognize him, and all he can do is sigh as he regains his balance. “yes. me.” something clicks in your brain at his response and you squint your eyes to get a better look at him. “takashi?” “hi, love.” and just like that, you perk up, your mouth stretching into a wide grin. “taka,” you squeal, excitement coursing through your veins when you recognize your boyfriend, “hiiiii~” he laughs at the shift in your tone and takes the opportunity to slide an arm around your waist once more. “let’s get you home okay?” “mhm.” you wrap your arms around him and he lifts you with ease. mitsuya assumes you’re fast asleep until a few minutes later, you mumble something against his skin, “someone tried to flirt with me but i said no.” a chuckle bubbles past his lips as he adjusts his hold on you. “really?” “mhm,” you nod into his neck as you snuggle closer, “i only love you.” “i love you more.” “love you most,” you reply before soft snores fall from your lips and your breathing evens out.

you’re rambling about RINDOU to rindou himself, going on and on about the reasons that made you fall in love with him. and while you’re occasionally interrupted by your hiccups, he patiently listens to your every word then he hears a “but.” the ways you describe him next are less flattering, less romantic—how he tries so hard to act indifferent to your cooing as if the tips of his ears don’t instantly turn red. or how he has a permanent scowl etched on his face. and other things you already tell him even when you’re sober. “he’s really lucky he doesn’t have any wrinkles yet,” you add with a giggle. “you’re really annoying when you’re drunk, you know that?” rindou deadpans. despite the lack of lighting in the club, he doesn’t miss the shock washing over you, your eyes getting mistier by the second. “what?” your voice comes out shaky and your bottom lip starts to wobble, making rindou release another groan. “for fuck’s sake.”

in spite of your insistence to stay at the club, RAN easily managed to drag you to his car. this isn’t his first rodeo. as an older brother, he has had to deal with rindou when he was blackout drunk. “where are we going?” you mumble as you begin to stir in the passenger seat. “home.” “i wanna see ran.” your boyfriend throws you a quick glance—your eyes remain closed and the rest of your words are incomprehensible—before he focuses back on the road. amused by your drunken state, he plays along. “alright, we’re going to ran.” the stretch of silence that follows is cut short when you speak again, “i’m thirsty.” so ran makes a quick stop at a convenience store, coming back shortly with a bottle in hand. he unscrews the cap before he gives you the drink, “careful.” you take a big gulp, instantly grimacing at the taste and it elicits a snort from your boyfriend. “what is this?” “water.”

“want more,” you slur. across from you, HANMA watches as you clumsily reach for the empty shot glasses on the table, flipping them upside down as if more alcohol will magically appear. he’s not going to lie—he finds it funny. entertaining, even. and if the circumstances were any different, he would’ve even encouraged this behavior. but he’s your boyfriend now and if there’s one thing he truly cares about, it’s you. drunk out of your wits, you don’t notice when hanma slides out of the booth until he’s soon presenting two more glasses to you. even though the contents are the same, he asks you to choose, “which one?” “hmm… that.” before you can get your hands on your drink, hanma intercepts and downs it in one go. you’re about to protest when he throws you over his shoulder and chugs the other drink out of your sight before heading for the exit. “let’s go.”

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husbadosandfics · 28 days ago

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He isn't the type to let you bend over to pick something up in peace.

As soon as he sees your upper body go down, your ass perched perfectly in the air, he can't help but appear behind you all of a sudden. Hand reeled back, and bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

Just when you notice the devious presence behind you, a loud slap echoes from your right cheek and you fall forward from the impact.

The recoil traveled throughout your entire leg, and he couldn't feel more proud of himself in that moment.

"Ow!" You winced, looking back to see a smug look on his face "Did you have to do it that hard?"

"Listen sweetheart" he chuckled, before bending down to place you over his shoulder "If you're gonna wear that around the house you can't expect me not to touch"

"That was not just a touch" you whined, still feeling the harsh sting your behind has been granted with.

"Awww, then let me rub it better yeah?"

GOJO, TOJI, geto, Sukuna, Bakugo, HAWKS, dabi, KARMA, kurroo, Bokuto, Atsumu, HANMA, BAJI, Mikey, RAN, Tengen

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husbadosandfics · 30 days ago

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Do you still make Batman x reader? If yes, could I request a "reader figures out Bruce Wayne is Batman"?

Thank you!

❝honeymoon❞

parts: next plot: 'til death do you part. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: arranged marriage, friends to enemies to (fake) lovers, implied history between reader and bruce. words: 760.

a/n: a little something quick that I thought of!

Recognizing that you had agreed to this, you had been prepared to accept anything. An affair, a drug addiction, secret ties to the mafia overlords like high society always suspected. That was your job as Bruce's spouse: contractually obligated to be okay with it and never let anyone find out about it. Whatever it was.

Even now, as your brain short circuits and the floor feels like you're about to sink right into it, you're looking for ways to be okay with this, and he's looking at you like he wants to kill you.

It's a fleeting look. One second there, the next vanished. Neither of you say anything but there is a world of things being felt, you're certain. One of you has to budge. "This... isn’t what I was expecting."

But Bruce doesn't laugh (and you'd never expect him to, not in your presence). He stands there, heaving slow breaths to calm himself down, the cowl still conspicuously trembling between both of his hands. He could've tossed it or let it go but it's almost like you've frozen him solid.

"Where did you get that?" Is all he demands, eyes trained on the key glimmering in your hand now. "The doormen have orders to-"

"To not let me in? I know. I had the key made myself. Your doormen are easy to persuade with the right amount of money."

Bruce's lip twitches and he scoffs. "I won't tell anyone," you assure him, about 75% convinced of it yourself, "It does me no good to have extra eyes on me, and I'm sure you've got contingency plans in place were I or anyone else to expose you. You were always very good about that. Plans."

"Of course you won't. Your mother wouldn't approve of the disruption in cash flow."

Your eyes narrow. "I am not interested in what my mother wants."

"Why not? She's a part of this marriage, too. Isn't she?"

"Can we talk about the suit?" Bruce stiffens when you bring back attention to the compromised position you'd found him in. "I have questions, and I suppose if you want me to be good at lying about your... hobby, you'll have to prep me."

"I think the less you know, the better. Personally."

"The 'my husband's just busy with work' spiel is getting old, and people are already starting to talk about us living apart. Now, when I agreed to marry you," you watch him flinch as you take a step forward, "I promised that I would be with you in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, 'til death do us part. Your business is my business. Your secret," within arm's length of his cowl, you wrench it from his grasp and he relents rather easily, "is my secret. I will take it with me to the grave so long as you keep up your end of the bargain."

Up close, you take in the black paint smeared over his eyes, a fitting backdrop for his stunning eyes so cool. The fire in the hearth flickers off of them, reflecting back at you as you stand but inches apart.

Just as you stole his cowl, Bruce steals your key. He holds it up in the palm of his glove, "You want to move in."

You hum, "It would help with appearances. And my mother would be pleased."

"I thought you weren't interested in what your mother wants."

"I'm not, but she's interested in you, and given tonight's revelation... I think you'd like someone keeping her nose out of your business."

You punctuate your point with a touch to his chest, palm laid flat over his heart and the several layers of iron-clad padding in front of it. His hair falls into his eyes as he looks down at it, then back at you. There's discomfort there but... something else. Resignation, you'd wager. Defeat. You almost sigh in relief when it dawns on you that you've—rather miraculously—won this battle going in completely blind.

Later, it will dawn on you (or plummet on you) just what you've witnessed tonight. Just what you've agreed to. Just who you've married.

Bruce peels your hand away, placing the key in your palm before releasing it like a burning stone. "There are guest rooms on the second floor." He pauses when you're not fast enough to school your expression, his mouth turning down into a scowl, "This changes nothing else." And he stalks away.

Nothing else. This changes nothing else, but if anyone were to ask, the honeymoon was going great.

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husbadosandfics · 30 days ago

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Showers and Soft Touches

Pairing: Bruce Wayne(battinson) x fem!reader

Summary: Someone joins you in the shower, and just some cute Bruce moments.

Warnings: Non-sexual nudity, suggestive, slightly ooc Bruce, shower sharing,

Word Count: 1.2k

a/n: This has been sitting in my drafts for forever so here I am finally posting it. I based some of the hair part on my own hair, so I’m so so sorry if it’s not the same as your routine!! Hope you enjoy this cute domestic fanfic.

You turn the faucet almost as far to the left as possible. The shower head sprouts out a patch of cold water before the temperature evens out and the water begins to heat. As steam begins to fill your master bathroom you reach out your hand to inspect the water. It's perfect. Just how you like it.

You step into the shower slowly making sure not to slip, before running your body under the water. Immediately your body loses its tension, and your muscles practically moan under the pressure of the hot water.

You reach for your shampoo slowly, wanting the relaxation to last as long as possible. You pour the liquid onto your hand and watch it slowly seep back into the bottle when you pull your hand up ever so slightly. You click the lid closed and place it back in its home. You begin to lather your hair, taking care to scrub until there is an abundance of suds coated through your hair.

Before you can wash out your now clean hair you feel a pair of arms wrap under your uplifted arms and around your torso. You jump at the sudden cold temperature of the hands against your warm skin. A head finds a resting spot on your shoulder, and you turn to see Bruce. His eyes closed and a content sound came from his throat.

You lower your arms so you can hug him back, or your version, rest your arms along his. Bruce doesn’t seem to mind your soapy hands. He just opens his eyes to meet yours. You lean in and kiss his cheek. The coldness of his skin is a stark contrast to yours. Your lips tingle at the feeling, and they linger longer than they should.

Bruce takes a step back letting the water hit his back. He seems to instantly relax, but to a stranger it would have gone unnoticed.

“Here, let me.” Bruce hums out softly, his low gravelly voice reverberating into your back. He unwraps his arms form around you and takes your hair in his hands. He gently leans your head back to rinse out the suds of soap from your hair. He’s careful to make sure he shields your eyes from the soap.

When the shampoo is all out Bruce takes hold of your bottle of conditioner, the expensive one he got for you. He lathers his hands with the creamy substance and gently runs his fingers through the knots in your hair. You breathe a sigh of content at his soft ministrations. And he smiles softly.

“Feel good?” He asks slowly, the corner of his lips lifted in a smirk.

“Yeah, especially when I’m not doing it.” You breathe out smiling. And he leans in kissing your cheek before continuing.

After your hair is lathered with conditioner, you reach to take hold of the bar of soap resting near Bruce’s and your razors. Out of the corner of your eye you see Bruce pouring shampoo on his hair before scrubbing it into his scalp.

You wash your body thoroughly, taking time to make sure you leave no skin untouched by the soap. Bruce rinses out his hair before quickly finishing up his routine. You follow suit, washing out your hair, then continuing with your hair routine.

By the time you wrap a towel around your body Bruce is already standing by the mirror and sink, ruffling out the water from his hair with a smaller towel. His towel hangs low on his hips, showing off his prominent v line. Your eyes slowly travel up his toned torso, to his pecks, his shoulder, and finally to his eyes, which are embarrassingly already on you.

Your face heats up as you look down, you adjust your towel awkwardly. Bruce just smiles gently walking over to you. You look up as he approaches you, his eyes catching yours.

“Sorry.” You whisper uncomfortably.

“Its okay,” he says with a tender look in his eyes. You turn your attention towards the floor embarrassment seeping from you. When he doesn’t move after a minute, still holding his gaze on you and your face you look up into his eyes again.

“What?” You asked with a small smile, eyebrows scrunching. “Do I still have soap on me?” You ask, inspecting your shoulders and bare legs. Bruce hesitantly places his hand on your cheek making you look up at him again.

“Just think…you're adorable.” He whispers lovingly but shyly to you. You push him away playfully, trying to hide the fact that his words sent butterflies to your stomach and a giddy feeling to your heart.

You walk towards the door motioning for him to follow, and he does.

As you step out of the large doors to your bathroom you are greeted with fresh clothes on your king size bed. You hear Bruce’s feet pad over to the corner of the room closest to the large windows. There is shuffling before the crackling of a needle tip hitting a vinyl is heard throughout the room. La vie en rose performed by Édith Piaf fills your ears.

You turn to see Bruce starting your vinyl player, he looks at you with soft eyes. He leans against the wall near the window and you turn again to the bed. You let your towel fall to the floor as you reach for your underwear.

You can hear Bruce's quiet footsteps once again, walking towards you as your underwear just about reaches your thighs. You feel his large warm hands touch yours from behind you. Both of your hands are now situated on your underwear. He pulls them the rest of the way up for you. His hands then move up to caress the curve of your waist with a soft feathery touch.

You turn, bare chest meeting bare chest. You look up into his deep steel blue eyes finding nothing but warmth hidden under the surface. He wraps his arms around your middle pulling you closer to his broad chest. Following suit you reach up on your toes to wrap your arms around his bare neck. His damp hair prickles your wrists, hair slightly dripping down. But it doesn’t bother you.

You rest your cheek on his collarbone, letting his breathing and beating heart lull your eyes shut. As he shifts you in his arms your nipples perk at the moment. He hums softly into your hair and it vibrates through both of you.

“Could stay like this forever,” you softly say into his skin. His grip on you tightens as your soft lips meet his scared chest. You still keep your body close to him as you leave a soft trail of kisses up his neck and finally to his pink lips.

He holds you there, his lips tenderly moving with yours. The tingle of his lips on yours sends whimpers up your throat. You part your lips to let his warm mouth explore yours. Your fingertips brush through his hair tugging slightly when you feel his tongue brush along yours. Bruce’s lips are so warm you never want to pull away. His arms caress your sides and back gently moving along your drying skin with love.

When you too finally do part your hands travel down to his chest so you can get a good look at his face.

“I love you darling.” You say quietly, and he sighs with a smile.

”Love you too.” He whispers softly, letting his body sway with yours to the music radiating from the corner.

This. This is what you loved most in the world.

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husbadosandfics · 30 days ago

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Caught making out

Bruce Wayne x reader

Blurb

A/N: omg yes you are seeing this right. I WROTE AGAIN. Literally almost a year ago but. I slowly want to write again. After seeing Blue beetle and my battinson obsession coming back. I felt inspired. Hope my writing has gotten better. Enjoy.

The uncomfortable feeling of the side of the table against your thighs was easily ignored. Warm big hands ran over your back. Lips pressed against yours. His light stubble scratching your face slightly.

“Bruce” You tried to mumble against his lips. Tried.

Because the moment you went down to his cave after you had woken up to a cold bed, you had gone downstairs to see what he was doing. Clearly, he was trying to make that up in some type of way. Seeing him shirtless, tinkering with some new gadget for his suit, warmed your heart when you came down to the basement. And before you knew it he had you on the table kissing you like it was his last day on earth. You had wanted to warn him. You knew Alfred was always up when Bruce was awake. But the fear of getting caught by Alfred disappeared from your mind the moment one of his hands went under your shirt.

Shivering, you pulled lightly at his soft hair that was between your fingers. He groaned and pressed his body even closer against yours. The kisses became more passionate. You could hear something, but it did not register fully.

A loud cough broke the spell between you and Bruce. You both pulled away with a gasp. Eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights. Cheeks heating up. His hand disappeared from underneath your shirt. Bruce's broad shoulders blocked Alfred's figure, but you did not need to see him to hear the humor in his voice, but also reminding you of a father that caught his son.

“Breakfast is ready, Master Bruce.” You did not know how you were going to face him again.

More to come

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husbadosandfics · 1 month ago

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ooh for the kiss drabbles, how about Bruce + 50?

You are so lucky i have been in such a bruce mood lately!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Have something fluffy with some suggestive dialogue. You know me.

KISS DRABBLE PROMPTS

Bruce said he rarely used the fireplaces in Wayne Tower but a deep freeze in early February led to you practically begging Alfred to light them. You’d never had them growing up and were enamored with the concept of curling up in front of it with a blanket and a book, letting the snowy night pass by while you waited for Bruce to return from his patrol around the city. Wind howled outside, adding to the gentle crackle of the fire and creating a cozy atmosphere that would have been impossible in your old apartment.

You’d nodded off at some point while waiting, your book falling to the floor. It wasn’t until someone gently shook your shoulder that you woke up, blinking as you took in your surroundings. The fire was still going, so either Alfred had been stoking it while you were asleep or you hadn’t been out for that long. Finally, you looked up at the man who’d woken you up.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” His voice was soft, as it often was when he came back from the city.

“You look cold.” Without saying anything else, you lifted the blanket and gestured for him to join you on the loveseat. Wordlessly, he crawled in beside you, practically curling up against your body with his own. His hands slid under your shirt, curling around you as he reclined with you, his head resting on your chest. You hissed at the feeling of the cold tips of his fingers on your skin. “Fuck, you are cold!”

He hummed, his chest rumbling as he burrowed into the heat created by the combination of your body and the blanket. When he spoke, his voice was muffled against your skin. “And you’re warm.”

“Could warm you up other ways.” You said. His hands shifted as he adjusted his body so he could look at your face. You moved one of your hands to run through his hair, still mused from his helmet. You brushed it out of his eyes, which still had some black that he’d been unable to wipe fully away. His eyes shut as he leaned into your touch, a movement that would be imperceptible to anyone observing but felt like the world shifting to you. “Or we could just stay here.”

You leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips, a light touch that intensified when he responded by pressing back into you. One of his hands, still cold, came to rest on the side of your neck, causing you to break from the kiss with a laugh. He smiled, before leaning forward again to press another kiss to your jaw. Slowly, he moved from your jaw down to where his hand had rested on your neck, warming the skin with his lips. When he reached your chest again, he simply rested his head there, seemingly content to just lay with you until the fireplace slowly died.

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husbadosandfics · 1 month ago

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cam 3

pairing: Edward Nashton x GN!Reader

part: 1, 2, 3

summary: Edward finally gets the courage to return the books he doesn’t need. Or maybe he just finally gets the courage to see you again.

contains: reader works at a bookstore, obsessed edward

warnings: dub-con, stalking

word count: 3.5k

masterlist

a.n: i uploaded this first on ao3 under the name "cam" - deerrat

Edward had forced himself to stop watching you every night, and it was agony.

He sits hunched over his cluttered desk, pushing aside the left-over container of takeout from last night. Or is it from the day before then? He can’t remember. His brain felt more jumbled than usual, much like his apartment. Papers were strewn in an organized chaos, books he had bought stacked in front of him, and a desk lamp casting a pale halo over the whole mess. He stares at the black void of his monitor, fingers steepled under his chin as though in prayer. But the object of is devotion wasn’t something traditionally divine. It was you.

He closes his eyes, letting the memory wash over him, just as it had for days now. It still haunted him, wracking him with humiliation – how he hadn’t reacted more to your joke. He had been too worried about his financial situation to notice the way your voice had risen in soft amusement as you made that small joke – ”You sure this is all?” You weren’t making fun of him. You were too kind to do that. You wanted to engage in a lighthearted exchange. At least he hoped this was the case. He should’ve said something clever – wittier. Banter – that’s what people liked, right? Instead, he giggled pathetically, like a nervous schoolgirl. How mortifying.

How did I not find out that you worked there? he thinks. It wasn’t a coincidence, no. Coincidence was too random, too cold for something as perfect as this. This was fate. It was a deliberate act of providence pulling him into your orbit. How could he have been so blind? All these weeks of watching, observing, and protecting you, but he never thought fate would intervene so directly. You, his angel, his penance and salvation, worked in the very bookstore he had visited for his plans without any prior knowledge of this.

Edward shifts in his chair, picking up one of the books from the pile on his desk. He thumbs through its pages, inhaling deeply to pick up any remnant of the bookstore. The words swam meaninglessly in his head – he wasn’t even sure he needed this book for his research. Only a few that he bought were helpful, the rest…had been props that gave him more time with you and not between monitors. The guilt began to claw at him, then, sharper than it had been in days.

That thought burned in him, a smoldering ember of shame. He wasn’t supposed to be monitoring you. He wasn’t supposed to follow your life like this. It was wrong for him to do this – he knew that. Edward swallowed hard and lowered his head. I am more than unworthy. He watched you in secret, through the forbidden lens of your webcam. He worshipped you like a sinner who itched to dare touch the divine. It was maddening torture. He was holding back as much as he could.

He glances at your crumpled photograph on his desk, a grainy printout he’d taken from a frozen frame of the feed. Your eyes were wide – unaware – staring back at him. And, for a moment, he hated himself. He hates how much he grew to need you, how much he craves the heat of your gaze to leave scorch marks all over his body. He wanted you to see him – to see him for who he truly was. He knew you could since you had such a kind soul. Edward presses his palms against his eyes, the edges of his vision turning red.

“Forgive me,” he whispers. He wasn’t sure if he was speaking to you, to God, or to the hollow space inside himself.

But Edward had always struggled with the line between right and wrong, hadn’t he? Especially when it was down to something as overwhelming and consuming as you. He clenches his fists, shaking his head violently as if it would get rid of the thought.

But, as he often does, he found a way to justify it. You had come into his life for a reason. He didn’t seek out your hacked webcam – it just happened to be there. He didn’t seek out where you worked – he was only there for his research. He stumbled into the store, nothing more than another nameless customer to you. But he knew there was something more. Surely, there was a purpose behind this. His breath hitches as he remembers your face, the way the overhead lights and fell across your features. Divine. Just… divine. He was, honest to God, grateful that he had bought so many books; his plan for just a few seconds more with you worked somewhat. He only wishes he paid more attention to what he picked up. Some of these were of no use to him whatsoever.

The receipt.

Edward, suddenly frantic, begins digging through the piles of trash on his desk. The thin slip of paper was slightly crumpled, the ink faintly legible. He smooths it carefully over a clean spot on his desk.

He couldn’t go back to that bookstore, right? Could he? What if you realized what he was this time. What if you looked right through him and witnessed the depravity in the recesses of his mind? But what if he couldn’t bring himself to ever go back? The that of letting this chance – this miracle - slip away made his chest tighten almost painfully.

His thin lips twist into a nervous, trembling smile. The books he didn’t need anymore – they were his excuse. The reason he gave himself to go back. How had he forgotten? But it wasn’t just an excuse – it was an offering. He would place himself before you again, risking rejection, risking everything, because that is what you deserved.

With unsteady hands, Edward begins to sort through the books on his desk. He would stand before you, hoping you would see him as him. Not as a stranger, but as someone meant to be there.

Because he was meant to be there.

Fate had made that so.

The soft humming coming from the computer was the only sound in the room, steady and swallowing the silence. Edward sits before the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard in hesitancy. He doesn’t know if he should proceed. He swore to himself – swore – that he wouldn’t do this anymore. No, not after seeing you. Not after speaking to you. That encounter should have been enough to quench any thirst of watching you without your knowledge. It should have been sacred.

But he was weak. Weak and pathetic.

“It’s not wrong,” he murmurs, his voice cracking under the weight of his lie. “It’s not… I’m just making sure you’re okay.”

The mouse moves under his trembling hand, navigating through various folders and encrypted paths until a hacked feed blinks to life. It flickers for a moment before stabilizing, revealing the small, intimate view of your world. The camera is angled to show just enough of this corner of your apartment – your couch, a bookshelf, and part of your kitchen.

God, there you were.

Edward’s breath catches in his throat as he leans closer to the screen, glasses slipping just slightly down the bridge of his nose. You are in the kitchen, back turned to the camera as you reach for something in a cupboard. The nature of the mundane scene was supposed to have reassured him. It should have been proof that you are safe, and that you didn’t need him hovering over you like this. But he can’t look away.

You move with an unconscious grace that he finds absolutely mesmerizing. Every gesture of yours was imbued with meaning. The way you tilt your head as you pour water into a mug, the soft sigh that escapes your lips are you settle on the couch with your tea. You look so cozy; he almost wants to get up and make himself a cup of tea.

“I’m not doing anything bad. This isn’t wrong,” he whispers, brows pinching together. He presses a hand to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his sweater to quiet the rapid pounding of his heart. “It’s not. I missed you. I just wanted to see you.”

The guilt was there, he could feel it, but he pushes it aside. He can’t stop now. You were just too precious, sitting there in the comfort of your apartment. The world was filled with many dangers you couldn’t possibly anticipate. Edward wanted to shield you from them.

His chair creaks as he leans back, tearing his gaze from the screen for only a moment. He taps his fingers on the desk with a relentless rhythm. Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me. He’s not strong enough to let you go – not yet. A soft sound from the feed draws his attention back to the screen. You had pulled out a book and were now reading, tucking your legs under you. His mouth went dry. This was almost too much for him. His lips part in a quiet gasp as he tries to keep himself from letting his eyes stare greedily at your bare legs.

In a sort of distraction, Edward reaches for the black notebook on his desk. He flips to the page where he had written your name. He adds another line beneath the things he already scrawled:

Reads in the evening. Looks peaceful. Like a saint in quiet contemplation.

The words blur as his eyes fill with unshed tears. He quickly closes the notebook with shaking hands. He didn’t dare look back at the screen.

“Enough,” he mutters pathetically. “That’s enough.”

He minimizes the feed but doesn’t close it, the tiny icon blinks at the bottom of the screen like a beacon. His resolve wavers for only a brief moment before he turns his attention to another task. Pulling up the bookstore’s system, he had found this to be quite easy. He hacked the website shortly after learning you worked there. He navigates through the interface with a practiced ease, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he looks for a schedule. When he sees your name appear, his heart skips a beat.

“Tomorrow?” he whispers, lips curling into a smile. “You’ll be there tomorrow.”

He sits back in his chair, the tension in his shoulders easing. What he was doing wasn’t wrong. He was just preparing – it was part of his mission. He had to know and make sure that you would be there when he returned the books. Edward glances at the icon where your feed was, hand over the mouse. Just one more look - just to make sure you were still safe.

Instead, and with all the strength he could muster, he closes it and stands up, the wheels of his chair scraping against the floor. He turns away from the computer, closing his eyes and clenching his fists at his sides.

“Forgive me,” he murmurs. “Forgive me for what I am.”

The words hang heavy and low in the air as he moves to his bed. The screen behind him glows on, casting long shadows across the room.

Tomorrow. He just had to wait for tomorrow, and then he would see you again. Patience was a virtue.

Edward stands in front of the glass door of the bookstore, the strap of his canvas bag digging into his shoulder as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. His pulse is erratic, the beats thundering in his ears like a drum signaling an impending reckoning. Edward had timed his arrival perfectly. He couldn’t be too early because returning books wouldn’t take too long, and he wanted to see you. He couldn’t arrive the second you got there because you wouldn’t have settled in immediately. He came just in time, assuming you’d be behind the counter or doing some other tasks around the store.

He adjusts his glasses with shaky hands and pauses momentarily to mumble a small prayer. He lets his arm fall back to his side and grips the door handle. Stepping inside, the small bell above the entrance chimes. The sound reverberates through him like a church bell, calling the faithful to worship. The bookstore was warm and inviting, the scent of paper and wood polish attacking his senses. He stores every detail – the layout of the shelves, awkwardly placed stacks of books, the other customers browsing the aisles, and the distant singing of a playlist drifting through the air.

You are crouched near one of the lower shelves next to the counter, sliding a book into place with careful precision. Edward’s breath falters, body tensing as though struck by a divine force. You’re entirely unaware of him as you focus on your task. But, to Edward, you are the center of the universe and the axis upon which everything turns. He clutches the strap of the bag tighter, knuckles whitening as a thousand thoughts race through his mind. Should I approach you now? Would that seem strange? What if he says something wrong, something that shatters the fragile connection he believes you share?

For a moment, he considers turning around and leaving – never to return. But the thought of wasting this chance – this gift – was unbearable. He forces his legs to move before the instinct to run away fully takes over. The sounds of his shoes against the wooden floor must have caught your attention because you stand and turn toward him. When your eyes meet his, Edward’s stomach twists violently, a heady mix of elation and terror floods his senses.

“Hi there,” you say sweetly and softly. Recognition lights up your expression, and you offer him a small smile. “Back so soon?”

Edward freezes, his tongue suddenly feeling too large for his mouth. The logical part of his mind screams at him to say something - anything – but the words are tangled in his throat.

“I… uh…” He shifts the bag on his shoulder and awkwardly fumbles with the strap. “I… bought too many. I mean-I don’t need all of them. I thought, thought I did, but…”

His voice trails off and he averts his gaze, rounded cheeks flushing a deep red. You tilt your head slightly, your smile growing a fraction wider. Edward swears he could see some type of glow in your eyes – like a little switch went off. Was it kindness? Patience?

“Hey, it happens,” you shrug and gesture toward the counter. “Go ahead and set them down. I can take care of the return for you.”

Edward moves closer to the counter; his movements were stiff and mechanical as though he were a puppet on strings. He pulls the books from his bag and stacks them as neatly as he can, careful not to let them tumble. You glance at the titles as you begin processing the return, fingers moving deftly over the register.

“Guess you had an ambitious reading list, huh?” Your eyes flick up to his, a playful smile on your lips.

Edward blinks, stunned by the sound of your voice addressing him directly. He nods – too quickly – and clutches the edge of the counter to ground himself.

“Yeah,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whistle.

You chuckle softly, the sound light and airy and perfect. Edward’s chest tightens. That noise had just carved itself into his memory. He watches as you start the return process, using the receipt and credit card he fumbled to place on the counter.

“Well,” you say, sliding the receipt closer to him. “If you decide you need them after all, you know where to find us.”

Edward stares at the receipt for a moment, willing himself to respond, to say something witty or memorable. Instead, all he manages is a mumbled “Thank you.”

As he tucks the receipt into his bag, you give him one last smile. A simple, fleeting thing that leaves him both ecstatic and hollow.

“Have a great day.” You give a small wave before turning your attention back to the register.

Edward lingers for a moment longer, feet rooted to the spot. He wants to say more and extend the moment, but the heavy weight of his nerves presses him back. He turns and walks to the door, each step feeling heavier than the last.

After stepping outside, the cold hair hits him like a slap, shocking him out of his haze. He seizes the strap of his bag tightly, heart still pounding. You spoke to him more than he thought you would. You even smiled at him. And though the interaction was short-lived, it felt monumental.

This wasn’t the end, he tells himself. It can’t be. This was only the beginning.

The walk home was a blur for Edward. The world had reduced itself to muted colors and distant sounds as his mind churns in relentless turmoil. His hand clutches the receipt in his pocket, the thin paper crumpling from the force of his grip. He replays the encounter over in his mind, each iteration punctured by a fresh wave of self-recrimination.

“Idiot,” he mutters under his breath as he climbs the stairs to his apartment. “Why didn’t I say something normal? Anything?”

He fumbles with his keys, the jangling sound sharp against the oppressive silence of the hallway. He finally manages to shove the door open, and slam it shut behind him. He turns around and leans against it, chest heaving as though he ran a marathon. His eyes flutter closed and he presses his forehead against the cool wood. Your face lingers in his mind like an afterimage burning into his vision.

Edward’s heart clenches painfully, the memory of it both calming and tormenting. You smiled at him—four times. Not only out of obligation or politeness, but with a genuine warmth. The kind of warmth that someone like him doesn’t deserve. He pulls the receipt from his pocket, uncrumpling it. This – it wasn’t just a piece of paper anymore; it was proof. Proof that you saw him, spoke to him, shared the smallest moment with him. This was sacred, a tangible fragment of your interaction. He crosses the room with hurried movements. He pulls open a drawer, retrieving a small, unassuming box. He stares at the pictures he has of you in there before gingerly and reverently placing the receipt inside. He stares at everything in the box again, his breathing shallow. It was all wrong, all of it. And, he knew that. But even as shame courses through him, so does something else. Something that’s deeper, darker, and more powerful.

“I can’t help it,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “You’re… you’re my everything.”

He shuts the box quickly and pushes it aside, making his way to his desk. The computer was waiting for him – as if expecting what he was going to do. He hesitates even letting his hands go near the keyboard.

“I just want to make sure you got home safe,” he murmurs as he searches for your webcam.

The soft flow of a nearby lamp shines a light on your figure. You are seated at a table, a pen in hand, scribbling something in a notebook. You bite your bottom lip in concentration, briefly glancing up at your laptop to see whatever you were writing notes for. Edward pretends that he’s sitting across from you – admiring you. He rests his chin on his hands, eyes fixing on you.

But beneath all that adoration, a storm rages. His thoughts spiral into darker places, every moment of calm shattering by the fresh surge of self-loathing. What was he doing? Watching you like this – hoarding every moment like you were lovers. Pretending to be in the same room as you. How could he claim to care for you when his actions were so disgustingly invasive, so wrong?

“I’m protecting you. I’m doing this for you.” But the words sound hollow in his own ears.

The lie is becoming harder to sustain. He knows that. He can feel it in the way his chest aches. His fingers itch to reach out through the screen and finally bridge the impossible distance between you.

Edward pushes back from the desk and stands abruptly. He begins to pace in the claustrophobic confines of his apartment, his hands gripping his hair as he struggles to contain the chaos within him. And yet, he knows he can’t stop.

He can’t walk away. He can’t let you go. The though to removing himself from your life – even in this unseen way – was too painful. You were a light in his darkness and the only thing that made the endless nights worth enduring. He sinks to his knees, hands clasped together, pressing his chest against his thighs as though in full supplication.

“I swear,” he whispers, tears slipping down his cheeks. “I swear I’ll protect you. From everything. Frome everyone.”

He whines as the final vow slips from his lips:

“Even from myself.”

But, deep down, Edward knows that it was a promise he was too weak to keep.

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husbadosandfics · 1 month ago

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Yandere!Chef x Vampire!Reader

A/N: If you like this setting, consider reading this story too! It features another yandere employee at your castle: a maid. A male maid. And, if you wanna know more about the levels, check this post :) . Anyways, back to this himbo Warning: Not nsfw, but suggestive. MDNI. Chef calls reader "Madam"

Danger level: ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆

Submissive level: ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♡

_______________________________

~Your First Dinner with Him~

Yandere!Chef who is really oblivious. He has been staying at your castle for a while now and yet, he still doesn’t know that you are a vampire. You did try to tell him on his first day here that food is not substantial for you, but he had politely interrupted you with a “I insist, Madam. Please go rest, the food will be ready in a moment” and even guided you to the living room, by gently pushing on your lower back with his large, rough hand. You were too flustered by the gesture to continue arguing.

Your second attempt was during dinner. You thought about striking when he would go sit down after putting both plates on the table, but, much to your dismay, after that, he remained standing beside you instead. Confused, you looked up (realllllly up. How tall was this guy??) and found him nervously watching you. You were weak to his puppy look. You took a bite: “Hm! It is really good”. A smile broke on his face, his eyes turning into tiny crescent moons. “I am glad you think so, Madam! Please let me know if you have any special requests. I want to properly take care of you”, he enthusiastically, albeit a bit sheepishly, replied. Ugh, his expressions, his demeanor…way too cute. New hobby acquired: eating human food.

~His Favorite Dinner (?) with You~

Yandere!Chef, who you rarely see with a frown, who usually wears that soft and kind smile of his, looks rather uneasy today, some would say even depressed. The truth is: he can’t stand his body. Seeing it in the mirror this morning completely killed his mood. He was not aware of it before, as the change was gradual; however, it seems like he gained weight while working here as your personal chef. A number of his big, hard-earned muscles from years of underground fighting, like his pecs, his abdomen and his butt glutes, currently have a squish to the touch. They aren’t purely solid anymore. His form strayed from bulky to a bit more beefy.

Why is that a problem? Well, ladies don’t find this attractive. At least, the ones from his village didn’t. He had witnessed it before. Had he stayed there, he would have been the subject of their disapproving and disgusted stares. Even among the regular folks, chubbiness was written off as being lazy and unreliable. You are too kind to think or do something like that, but he doesn't want your politeness, he doesn't want your open-mindedness, he wants your love.

Lost in thoughts of new workout routines, he doesn’t notice his cut finger until blood starts to drip onto the vegetables. Ah…if he had dog ears, they would have flopped on his head. He already ruined his body, he doesn't need to ruin your dinner too.

Turning around, it would appear that the person on his mind is right behind him.

“M-madam! How did you get ther-", which is a very valid question; prior to this, there were no sounds owned by your footsteps nor by the kitchen’s door opening and closing. Yet, instead of answering, you just abruptly…grab his wrist and…put his finger in your mouth? At the contact, the broad-shouldered man makes a little noise. You don’t mind him as you begin to suck the blood out of the injury.

He is very confused, he doesn't understand why you are doing this. The feel of your tongue on his skin, how you both are standing so intimately close to each other; it doesn’t favor his thinking either. It is actually making him lightheaded. Like is this sensation akin to pleasure that keeps building up the more this situation goes on. He lets out another whimper when your hand slides under his shirt to squeeze at the small fat of his stomach.

As this snaps him out of his haze, he begins to weakly plead instead, without real conviction, to let go of his hand; he doesn’t want you to get sick. He could easily overpower you, but he can’t get his body to stop trembling. All he can do is bring a shaky hand to his mouth to muffle the sounds that keep spilling out since the feeling from earlier is now more intense, more delightful.

Before this could escalate, you finally release his finger with a pop. You look up and find your poor chef completely flushed, his eyes unfocused, taking heavy breaths.

Guess you owe him an explanation, huh?

~H̶̝̿i̸̭̓s̴͉̿ ̷͉͑b̴̒͜e̶͊ͅs̴̠͋t̶̮͆ ̵̡̀d̴̟́ĩ̷̦s̷͛ͅh̶͍͛ ̵̣̃ ~

Yandere!Chef who now feeds you proper food.

“From which animal is this blood from? It tastes exquisite! I never had something like this before”, you excitedly ask him.

“Oh, you know Madam, just ventured deeper into the forest than usual”, he answers vaguely.

He doesn’t want to worry you by saying it actually belongs to the rude asshole who pushed you the other day.

Isn’t that sweet?

…

Drink well, darling

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husbadosandfics · 2 months ago

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Loser yandere, who is so desperate that he would do anything for your attention. No matter how humiliating.

He'd make sure to "accidentally" fall down in front of you so you help him up. You have to! It's what any person would do.

He'd put on an extra dramatic act for you. Pretending he injured his ankle really badly. Crying his heart out. He'd make you feel like a hero who saved the day.

You become his friend after helping him heal, spending the entire day with him. Of course, he'd do something for you to make up for occupying your time. Buy your favorite foods or give you small gifts.

After a while, he only became more annoying with his tactics. He'd become more confident. Not afraid to get caught lying.

"Ow, a paper cut. It hurts so bad... Can you kiss it better?"

"My shoulders feel so tense... Can you message them for me? Please?"

"I think my hair is all tangled. Can you run your hands through them? It'll soothe the pain..."

He'll start whining about how he's never had his first kiss before. What a loser. But you were his friend, you could teach him, right?

You rejected him. You thought he was dumb, clumsy, and lacked severe social awareness.

"Just one kiss! Please. Please. Please. Please. Pretty please. Pretty pleaseeee~"

"No. I already told you that kisses need to have intentions."

"And the intention is that... I learn."

"That's not what I meant-"

"Nooo! Come on.."

He opens his mouth to probably whine more. And you've had enough.

You push your fingers in his mouth. You don't really know how it happened, but his mouth swallowed around them. The feeling of his warm mouth against your skin felt good. You didn't lose composure. You were annoyed. Glad to finally quiet him down.

"Shut. Up. Shut up. For fuck's sake, it's been half an hour!"

He whimpers against your fingers. The feeling of your fingers in his mouth made him feel euphoric. Just as you were about to pull them out, he began to suck. His eyes were half-lidden as they looked into yours. It was as if he was begging for more.

"What the hell are you doing?" You tried to yank back your hand, but he grabbed your wrist. A pained moan escaped him. As if pulling out your fingers would physically hurt him.

"Nnmh.." He sucks greedily at your skin, licking in-between your fingers.

"Ugh, you're disgusting! What's gotten into you?" You forcibly take your fingers out, yanking your wrist out of his grasp.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I just.. I just- Um.. I panicked? I thought you wanted me to do it! I didn't know how else to respond..."

What was he supposed to say? He couldn't think of anything. He'd lower himself down on his knees, look up at you, and beg for forgiveness. All he knew was how to humilate himself after all.

Pt. 2.

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husbadosandfics · 2 months ago

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Continuation of this. A bit suggestive at the end.

Loser yandere was on his knees, begging for forgiveness. He got ahead of himself. Sucking your fingers like a perverted freak. He looked up at you with glassy eyes, pouting just slightly. He didn't mind your pity. In fact, he wanted it. The worst he made himself look, the more you let things pass.

You sighed, ultimately having no choice but to forgive him. He looked so sad, so lonely. Like a stray puppy begging for attention. Why wouldn't you spare his feelings? He had no real friends. It made sense that he didn't know how to act properly.

Except he did. He was just manipulating you, saying the right things to make you cave and hang out with him. He would speak with a certain depressed tone that would melt your heart, and when you agreed, he would become extremely happy. Cheering and overreacting. A great excuse to excitedly hug you. Throw his arms around your shoulders and get lost in your scent.

He was strangely smart. Using both negative and positive reinforcement. Getting you to say yes to avoid making him sad, and making you feel content by his contagious smile. All part of his plan that'll eventually end with you two happily engaged.

Even if that strategy didn't work, he'd just whine and beg. He knew you couldn't take it. You would glare at him, and he'd feel a strange sensation through his body. Sometimes, he wondered how being hit by you would feel like. Or maybe with your hand wrapped around his throat.

Given how much he bothered you, it was a miracle you were still friends with him. It wasn't all that bad. You somehow had fun hanging around with him, laughing at his silly jokes. He'd take you to so many places. Always making sure you were enjoying your time so you'd come back for more!

When you weren't in public, he'd get clingy. It was obvious he was touch-starved and a big attention seeker. He wanted to have you touch him, get close to him, and pay attention to him. Only him.

"I can't get this stupid button undone... Can you help me take this shirt off? Come onnn, it's way too hot in this room..."

"Look how good I smell. Come on, sniff my neck. It's a new thing I bought. It smells like your favorite!"

"I'm so hungry, and my hands are all tired. Ughh.. Can you feed me a snack? I'll open my mouth wide for you. Aaah~"

He'd still bug you about the kiss. Not ever talking about the incident afterwards. Those few months of reinforcement should've made you softer to him. He should've been able to get you to agree. But you stayed determined to deny him.

"I want a kiss already... Why can't you, my bestest friend, show me how it feels~? All of these movies have one. I'm being reminded of how much of a loser I am every single day." He grumpily said to himself as you both watched a weird horror movie. The scared couple on the screen made out to relieve their stress... or something. It was a strange movie he (purposely) picked.

"Can't you fucking understand?! It'll change this whole relationship. I told you that a million times." You crossed your arms, darting your gaze from the movie to him.

He sighed. You sighed. Then you exchanged a look. "Alright. Fine. You're not gonna stop asking, are you? Just promise me you won't act all awkward after it."

He lit up, nodding eagerly. "Really?! Oh, wow! Thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyou! You're the best! Seriously. A life saver~"

"Shut it." You groaned, watching the last bits of the movie with the characters escaping.

"Yes, ma'am. You got it." He climbed on your lap. That made you stiff a bit, looking at him with a confused look. He set his legs on your sides, his arms wrapping around your neck. "How is this gonna work? Can you please do it very slowly?"

"Eh...? Okay. Just go on. Whenever you're ready." You wrapped your arm around his waist, not knowing what else to do with them. He hummed happily. His face came closer to you, and somehow, you felt nervous. You shrugged it off, letting him kiss you at his own pace.

"Here I go..." he whispered, his nose rubbing against yours.

He pressed a small peck on your lips as if to test out how it feels. Before you could correct him, he kissed you again. This time longer and harder. You squeaked at the suddenness, forced to lean back against the couch as he began to lick your lips, asking for entry.

You reluctantly opened your mouth, and he wasted no time. Pushing his tongue inside your mouth. Lapping at anything he could find. Your tongue brushed against each other, eliciting a moan from him. His hand held the back of your head to keep you from pulling away. Shifting a bit on your lap, whimpering against your lips.

He kept licking your tongue, sucking on it. He moaned again when you finally returned the kiss. His movements were clumsy, making it easier for you to take control. After a minute, he pulled away, panting as he buried his face into your neck. He seemed embarrassed, and so you hugged his waist tighter.

He moaned against your neck. "Ah.. that felt so nice. Mmh, shit..."

"Yeah... you got a little ahead of yourself, y'know. It was supposed to be a simple kiss. I never said tongue was allowed." You pointed out. Rolling your eyes, because you knew he didn't care.

"You never said it wasn't." He sat up to look you, tilting his head innocently. "I would've listened to you if you said it."

"No, you wouldn't have." You mumbled.

"You also didn't say I can't go for another one~!" He leaned in again and captured your lips in another kiss. You protested, hands gripping his shoulders now to push him away. He whined, sucking your lips as if that would change your mind. "But, please, just one more. I still haven't learned the proper technique yet."

You were beginning to understand that he had a different reason for overstepping boundaries. The way he kissed you, the way he tried to savor your taste, the way his pressed his body against yourself. It was like he was trying to devour you. Trying to be one with you.

He moaned loudly when he pulled away. His body was shaking a bit, his eyes dilating. Something pressed against your stomach. You didn't need to look down to see what it was. "Um... Oops?"

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husbadosandfics · 2 months ago

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tw ( yandere. nsft. )

g/n reader - minors and ageless blogs, DNI.

loser yan :3

"y-you feel so good," he let out whimpers in your ear as he laid on top of you, his cock resting in between your thighs. "m' not even inside but you feel s-so good..."

"if i feel so good, then make me cum already," you said, impatiently. "if you can force me to stay with you, you can make me cum."

"just wait...!" he frustratingly said. his fingers went through your hair, tugging a bit. "h-have to cum first-" he interrupted himself with a louder than usual moan, his hand gripping tighter on your hair unconsciously.

he lined the tip of his cock with your hole, only shoving halfway before he came, his eyes glistening as he nearly cried from overstimulating himself.

"s-sorry, i- you felt too g-good, i couldn't help myself...!"

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husbadosandfics · 2 months ago

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the perverse recluse

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DNI

𓆩♡𓆪 LEVYATHAN "LEVY" SAMPSON MILLER ↳ nickname: levy (pronounced as lee-vi, but i personally pronounce it as leh-vee); prefers to be called levy

𓆩♡𓆪 AGE ↳ 23 years old

𓆩♡𓆪 BIRTHDAY ↳ september 19th

𓆩♡𓆪 HEIGHT ↳ 6'2'' (at full standing height, looks a little shorter due to constant bad posture)

𓆩♡𓆪 SPECIES ↳ human

𓆩♡𓆪 CAREER ↳ n/a; a full-time mechanical engineering college student, occasionally streams but not very often (his online persona is awful and no one watches him)

𓆩♡𓆪 AREA OF RESIDENCE ↳ apartment 10143 (3 bed, 2 bath) ↳ resides with childhood friend and roommate adonis "adon" onyx hawkins; adon's girlfriend invidia "vidia"/"kors/kora" kora mirasol occasionally will use the other spare room when visiting if adon is not there

𓆩♡𓆪 APPEARANCE ↳ a tall, lanky and lean pale skinned male with long, unkept, and badly dyed brown hair; ends and roots are his natural blonde hair color ↳ light green eyes, almost olive-colored; down-turned and is quite expressive, wears round-square glasses only when he's reading or on the computer (actually has perfect vision, he's just protecting his eyes and will forget to take them off most of the time) ↳ has a mole under the corner of his left eye ↳ light stubble on chin ↳ ear piercings; three on his left (two helixes, one lobe), one on his right (lobe) ↳ very low and terrible maintenance: forced to bathe every three days in a week (sometimes forgets or doesn't want to, so he lies), has a very filthy room that he's also forced to clean every two weeks, hair is usually greasy, smells quite bad prior to now being forced to shower (axe, sweat, monster energy all in one); has sparse body hair ↳ long, thin fingers; kinda bony-looking ↳ creepy expressions; has an uncomfortably wide smile when he gets really excited about something ↳ some faded SH scars on his forearms and inner thighs ↳ nsfw (smh cause ik you mfkers wanna know, TULIP AND BOW I'M BLAMING YOU) — grower: 4.5 in, 1.5 in (soft); 7.3 in, 2.2 (hard) — uncircumcised with a slight curve upwards when hard — slight happy trail — prominent vein on the right side of the shaft — slightly darker and heavy hanging balls — fluid description: pale yellow-white that comes out in thick, sticky ropes; tastes very salty and sour, hard to swallow because of the amount and the taste

𓆩♡𓆪 PERSONALITY (get ready for just me saying how gross he is) ↳ levy is a strange and disgusting individual that makes it difficult to even be around. he's rude, weird, gross; basically a completely horrid scumbag that's ever walked the earth. it's hard to talk about any positive traits he has, because he has little to none at all. it's a miracle for one person to continue being his friend, perhaps adon is the only piece of sanity levy has left in his depraved life.

↳ levy rarely gets embarrassed, he's disgustingly proud of his revolting and very misogynistic lifestyle. he takes sick pleasure in grossing people out as it makes him stand out as an individual, making his name quite known around the college campus as the "freak" whenever he goes out. it's almost freeing, but suffocating at the same time.

↳ surprisingly, levy is pretty intelligent and well-spoken due to the amount of private schooling and top tutors he's been through when he was younger. he's almost the top of his class in his major and has a large amount of scholarships that support his education, letting him spend his actual money/allowance on his hobbies. he's lazy with anything else, but when it comes to education, he's at the peak of his grades. crazy for someone well-educated to be a piece of shit!

↳ levy is spoiled rotten by his very, very distant parents, making him have a complex about getting what he wants and getting his way. due to being raised by distant parents however, had caused him to become immediately and unhealthily clingy to those that manage and willingly become close to him, even if it doesn't seem like it as it's not a physical clinginess.

↳ levy has no game, like absolutely none at all. he cannot flirt for shit as he's extremely awkward, everything that comes out of his mouth is vulgar and/or an insult, he cannot shut the fuck up to let the other speak, and he's constantly speaking down on the person to make him look like the bigger person. he then blames women for his loneliness, even though it's literally all his fault for being an asshole. again, it's a surprise that anyone can stand being around him.

↳ levy is constantly horny, be it because he was raised to hide his emotions or because he's constantly jerking his dick to oversensitivity over 2D tits. it's truly a problem because he brings in his fantasies in every conversation with adon, and he's genuinely so sick of it so he has to remind him to stop being a perv or an asshole or both.

↳ levy actually does shuts the fuck up a little bit when it comes to vidia, which he himself finds crazy due to how much he does not like real women. for some reason, he wants her to think that he's cool and not as bad as he actually is, which makes adon (her bf) a little suspicious of his intentions. listening to her talk and actually like being around him too caught his immediate attention, his obsession over her growing like an untreated wound. he does slip up though and let his real personality shine, but when he starts noticing that she doesn't really care about what he says or does, he starts pushing the limits of what he can do to her.

↳ levy has a festering rot of envy towards adon and vidia once he knew they were in a relationship. jealousy towards adon since he's dating a girl that he so desperately wants for the first time during his time on earth, his twisted mind thinking of every position that he's putting her in just down the hallway and beating his dick off to it (he's never came harder than that). jealousy towards vidia because she stole the one person that's willing to be around him without much judgment and has been with him since two of them were still young (he's in denial of wanting adon's affection to be like vidia's).

↳ very obviously, levy is quite insecure about his whole existence. everything he does or says is a defense mechanism to hide his true fears and shames, choosing to blame others instead of working on bettering himself. he believes that it's easier this way, to be seen as hated and disgusting rather than trying to change what he's always been. if he can't better himself, someone has to be as bad as him, maybe even worse. he'll turn them to be as sick as he is, one way or another.

↳ levy's pretty impulsive due to being extremely sheltered in his younger years. he wants to do everything as soon as possible, has to experience everything as much as he can. sometimes he goes into it with no plan, other times, he'll create extensive plans with details that many look over. it's worrying how much he plans, as if he's expecting the end of the world with how much endings he makes up.

↳ levy's not fond of anyone that's not vidia or adon, he's actually extremely distrusting of others due to how much he was bullied when he was younger and somewhat currently. he kinda hides it well, only working with others in order to get things done or when he wants something from them. adon was the first person he ever trusted and he doesn't really try manipulating him since he's able to predict most of levy's shenanigans. vidia took a little more time for him to fully trust when she came into the two's lives, but levy likes how easy she is to mess with compared to adon, he gets away with a lot with her that he can't with him.

𓆩♡𓆪 ABILITIES: none since levy's a normal person, like he's literally just a smart, manipulative jackass

𓆩♡𓆪 BACKGROUND (TW: BULLYING, INDICATED CHILD ABUSE [VERBAL/NEGLECT], SELF-HARM + SU1C1D@L INTENTIONS) ↳ levy thinks that he was once someone sweet. kind. caring. it's difficult to try and recall if he every was, but all he knows now is that he refuses to change who he is currently. it's far too late. from a young age, he knew that affection in his home wasn't commonplace. his existence tolerated by his father and his mother outright despising every fiber of his living being; his parents seemed to not be in agreeance with each other as well, very little words being exchanged between one another. perhaps his original softness was the reason they may have not liked him as their son, the once poor and innocent boy being subjected to mistreatment and weeks of loneliness well before he was ready to start kindergarten. from there, perhaps that's where the first change started.

↳ crybaby was the first nickname, all because he tripped on the playground, then came weirdo and monster. "monster" came along when another kid and her lackies shoved him into the ground. this was the first time levy tried to fight back in the 2nd grade, thrashing around and screaming in fear until he hit a girl in the face and her nose stared to bleed. levy didn't mean it! he was just trying to defend himself! but the children said otherwise, saying that levy had a creepy smile on his face when he realized he punched the girl. liars. all of them were liars! after the office meeting and the insistence of how it was his fault for starting the entire thing, it was then as his parents screamed bloody murder at his misdemeanor in the car drive home, levy came to the realization that there is no such thing as love nor kindness in this world of his.

↳ the bullying became worse after that. due to his parents' wealthy background, levy went to a private school that went from kindergarten all the way to the 12th grade, so he was constantly facing his oppressors every single fucking day. it went from childish insults to shoving around to actual physical abuse. there was never a day he didn't come home with bruises or fresh new cuts, things he had to hide away from his parents. not like they'd care if he died anyways. levy stopped fighting back, letting those assholes vent out their frustrations against him, letting them push him around like some ragdoll, letting them use him as a form of sadistic entertainment. he was numb to it all, no one cared about him anyways. why should he even try anymore?

↳ he came along and changed everything, the second biggest change in his life. levy can remember what day it was, what the weather was like, what he was planning to do that very same day after school. it was the 7th grade, he was getting his normal beatings, a harsh kick to his stomach almost making him lose complete consciousness as the group that surrounded him laughed until he puked on the leader's shoes. he cursed at him, telling him to lick his shoes clean or he'll end his life. good, levy thought as he closed his eyes, just end it already.

↳ "get away from him!" a voice, bold and fierce in his ringing ears, as if a superhero had come to save him. his eyes were heavy and swollen, but it took all his might to reopen them and see who was trying to save him. the new kid, someone that he's seen in brief passings and whom was on the school's football team. the group of bullies taunted him at first, but were cut short as the new kid punched him straight in the mouth before he could finish his sentence. it was a 4v1, something levy thought he had no chance of winning, but to his surprise, the new kid held his own. he may had a few new bruises here and there on his face and body, but he managed to scare them off completely, leaving only the two of them there together. the new kid looked down at him, heaving heavily with a tired smile as he reached out to him. "are you okay? i wish i could've caught you guys earlier so they didn't try and hurt you. i'm adonis."

↳ levy stared at his outstretched hand, tears welling up in his eyes for the first time in years. "thank you," he whispered quietly, grasping at his hand and pulling him down to the floor with him, quickly holding onto the boy as if he was some lifeline. "thank you so much adon. i'm levy." he was invited to adon's home, a place that was considerable seen as "poor" in the richer neighborhoods, and was cleaned up by his mother and father, feeling the desired softness and kindness from complete strangers. this is what he was searching for, what he needed for years from his own kin. right here in adon's home was no doubt love. he cried again, unable to explain why he was to his new friend but he embraced him nonetheless.

↳ they were notably a strange duo. one of the most considerably popular and handsome athletes hanging with the dubbed freak, but they didn't care. adon liked to say that titles made in school were to put people into a place, making someone matter more than the other when all of them should be getting along. levy liked his kind views, although hopeful, it was something that was very much nonexistent in their school. life seemed to go a little more smoother after adon and him became friends, his parents also seemed to get off his back and actually support him once they noticed that adon was coming over consistently to hang out with levy. they both don't speak of that day of their circumstantial meeting, but he likes to think they've created a mutual agreement from it. one thing that levy couldn't stand however, was that adon couldn't protect him all the time from the constant hounding of torment from those who still hated levy's guts. as much as he wanted him to, there was no way he could always be there in his life. levy hated being away from him because of that reason, he should always be with him. always.

↳ discovering the internet was his third major change, the most severe he thinks. levy was in the 10th grade, trying to find where to watch his current favorite anime, when he came across these incel-related forums, pages, posts, things he found a sudden relation to. due to his vulnerable and very unstable mental state, he consumed these toxic medias with a passion. they made him feel heard, understood. adon had a limited understanding of levy's circumstances, he never quite mentioned everything to him due to his fear of adon abandoning him afterwards, what's the use of telling him about all his pain anyways. he ranted on these forums about his hatred towards those that tormented all his life, he spilled every detail of how he hated his family, every person who've shunned him. once his posts blew up, he was seen as valid, agreed upon. levy was finally seen as his true self without judgment, finding himself a home within the confines of the internet, its filthy talons digging deep into his brain.

↳ knowing that adon was always around others that weren't levy made his skin crawl inexplicably, frustration and envy clawing deeply in his veins and into his skin. it was also around the time adon started to date girls, taking away his attention and his time from him. this isn't how it's supposed to go, adon was supposed to be his friend, he's supposed to always there for him and him alone. each of those girls tell adon lies about levy, how he freaks them out and how they think he's a terrible person to be around. fucking whores, trying to take away the one person that genuinely loved him. so he worked his own lies, truths really once he managed found what they were doing behind his beloved best friend's back online and irl, and exposed them of their crimes with a secret account. adon came back to him every single time, smiling with a hidden sadness as he showed up to his house to play games together. he came back to him and that was all that mattered to levy.

↳ college came around and the two of them decided to live together in an apartment nearby their college. levy was the one who followed adon as he got a well-deserved scholarship for football. he could've cared less on where he went, but as long as he still had his best friend, that's all that mattered to him. living in close proximity with him was a dream come true, there he didn't have to fight much for adon's attention. outside though was more difficult, the two of them having clashing majors to his misfortune. adon started dating again as well, and levy did the same things he did in high school, ensuring that he was the only one worth his company. within two years, levy's mentality was on the decline because of this accumulated hate, and it had become very obvious to his best friend that he desperately needed help. his room was a mess, his best friend was a mess. this wasn't the same little boy he once saved from those bullies all those years ago, if he noticed sooner, maybe then he could've saved him from this fate. maybe.

↳ another female came into the apartment one day, that's fine, he'll just do the same thing to her as the rest. yet, the one thing she did made him notice that she wasn't like the rest of them. no, she was completely different from all of them. levy was in the kitchen, boiling a pot of water for his ramen noodles, when this girl quietly approached him and stood next to him, watching the water boil along with him. he glared at her, annoyed that a female was bothering him and about to tell her off when she smiled at him. genuinely smiled, he can definitely tell it was real. "sorry to bother you. adon's asleep and i got hungry, levy right? oh! i don't know if he mentioned me before but i'm invidia, or you can call me kora. it's my middle name, simpler than invidia."

↳ he felt like his heart was stuck in his throat as she batted her pretty little eyes at him, adon's shirt clinging onto her obviously bare body as she tugged it further down her legs. they definitely fucked, he didn't hear it this time since he was locked in with his game. "y-yeah... levy. that's m-m... me, vidia." the nickname slipped out and she softly giggled, eyes crinkling in delight.

↳ "vidia! that's cute, no one's ever called me that before." levy felt his skin crawl with warmth as she cooed sweetly towards him, his pale cheeks flushing red and his heart beating away in his chest. what the hell was this kind of feeling? she asked if there was another pack of ramen she could eat, he shook his head and said that his was the only one left. there was a pout to her lips when he quickly brought up the fact that they could share. sharing? with a female? that was unheard of with levy, even he was frightened of these actions of his as he placed the finished bowl in between them on the table. they ate and occasionally spoke to each other, her kind smiles continuing for him as he muttered new facts about himself, a formed strain in his sweatpants nagging for his hand as he realized that they were sharing indirect "kisses", something that he never gotten before from an irl. she offered to clean up for him and he agreed as fast as possible, making an excuse to "finish" a project and slipped into his room and onto his bed. that night, he could only think of vidia. fucking vidia. loving vidia.

↳ he seethed in bed, covered in sweat once he came back down to reality. that was the first time levy was jealous of adon's relationship with this female and not of him alone. he wanted her, needed her more than adon does. this female was special, she actually seemed to enjoy his company like he did. never had he been once grateful for him bringing a girl home than tonight, he just hoped that he'll be one by her side the next time around.

𓆩♡𓆪 OTHER INFO ↳ levy's favorite games are: valorant, league of legends, overwatch, call of duty, fortnite, some gacha games (the fan service-y ones especially like nikke and girl's frontline), and the free-roam world ones. his favorite animes are mostly shonen and seinen related, especially ones that are borderline hentai/ecchi. he very much pays for skins and merchandise since he gets a hefty allowance from his parents.

↳ levy is a closeted bisexual, though he'd never admit that he likes men (only specifically adon, so does it really count as being bisexual if he loves one man? - his excuse). his "type" is his 2D girls with large breasts and thick thighs, something that vidia contains (though that's not just what he likes from her surprise surprise). he could really give two shits about a female's personality, all of them are the same either way.

↳ levy was actually supposed to be a twin, but he absorbed them in the womb. it was assumed that his twin was going to be a boy as well, and he believes a part of him feels been empty because of that fact. he also partially thinks that is also a part of the reason of his parents' weren't fond of him when he was younger.

↳ levy dyes his hair brown as it's the color that his parents' don't have (both are blondes + are russian immigrants, he cannot speak it and vaguely understands some of the language). he believes that it fits him much better than the blond, even if it fades quickly and is always a sloppy job.

↳ vidia does levy's skincare whenever she comes around. he first did not want to do it at all cause that's such a girly thing to do, but then he came to the realization that she gets to touch him in an almost loving way, so he finally agreed to go through it. it's really nice, even if he doesn't admit it aloud, though he has to hide the half-chub he gets whenever she touches his face. adon also gets his skincare done by her as well, so it's a bonding experience for all of them.

↳ adon is the chef of the apartment as levy does not know how to cook for himself since he was raised with people cooking for him. he can somewhat cook simple meals (boiling water, making pancakes, microwaving meals), but he prefers to eat out more than anything. adon's cooking isn't bad, it's just way too healthy for his palate. his mom in particular was a health nut/almond mom, so he was only raised with the worst tasting food in mankind. he feels a little better eating adon's food since he can tell it's made with love.

↳ once levy started to become more comfortable around vidia, he does start to call her meaner names (stupid bimbo and fucking slut is one of his favorites) and she just laughs it off, unusually proud of being called these names. she says she's owning up to his words, that she knows she obviously isn't one, and finds him silly for saying them. it makes him want to put her in her place even more, wanting to make her his stupid bimbo or slut.

↳ though it may not seem like it, adon and levy share a lot of interests. one shared interest to note: levy gets to show adon the newest animes coming out that he might be interested in watching with him, and in exchange for watching those animes, adon helps levy workout. it's unfortunate that he has to move his body to be in shape, but he actually put a bit of muscle with his friend's help and it helps him actually be active for once. he's very much a sleeper build kind of guy since he's so lean.

↳ levy is very much still a virgin. obviously there's multiple reasons he's still one, and he's deluded himself to the fact that he'll only be able to lose it to vidia. he also thinks he's a dominant kind of guy when in reality, he's very much the guy that's whimpering and crying during sex.

↳ levy has an extreme aversion to being touched by others that aren't adon or vidia. it freaks him the hell out immensely, even if it's just a simple tap to the shoulder. it's a trauma response from being bullied from hell and back, and though he craves being held and touched most days, it can only be from those two dubbed special individuals of his.

↳ he wears silly boxers, nothing like the calvin klein's that adon wears. they all have some sort of print on them and it makes easy to differentiate their laundry from one another because of it.

↳ levy hasn't harmed himself ever since meeting adon and has no urges to start ever again, making it about 10 years since he last done so. he feels pretty indifferent about the scars left behind as it was a reminder of his past pain prior to meeting him, but otherwise than that, they're just now a part of his body. he thinks of getting tattoos to cover them, but he can't decided on what he really wants to get.

↳ he thinks that his parents giving him excessive amounts of money and buying whatever he wants is a way for them to win over his forgiveness over their treatment of him when he was younger. levy could give two shits about them trying to buy his forgiveness, but as long as he's able to keep buying his merch, he'd gladly pocket their dirty money. he also gets to secretly spoil adon and vidia with the money, and he won't ever admit that he's the one gifting them the pricey items they wanted.

(will continue to update this whenever i get ideas)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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