#mr.[p-name] was so cool

[nelson-riddle-me-this]

Here's my Cowboy Bebop vibes playlist - music that's (imo) similar to Yoko Kanno's music for the show! Both Spotify and YouTube versions. Enjoy!

[talaok]

A gentleman

This is my gift to @lucyeyelesbarrow for the Pedrostories Secret Santa event💖

Pairing: bfd!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend is a good guy, but he's not so good at sex, but thankfully, his dad makes up for it

Warnings: smut| Cheating, kinda exhibitionism, oral sex (f receiving), a bit of fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, no use of y/n just overuse of pet names, no use of Joel either, just Mr. Miller and sir (so naturally we've got a bit of a sir kink).

a/n: babe you said slut by Taylor and i ran with it. also, this didn't turn out as good as I wanted, but nevertheless, I hope you'll like it. And huge thanks to @decembermidnight cause this idea is basically (completely) hers so give her some love or smth.

Jason was a good guy,

he was such a good guy, always so kind, always gentle and respectful... everything any girl could ever dream of, right?

wrong

He should have been, he really should have been the perfect man, but he wasn't.

He wasn't a man, he was just a boy

A really nice, sweet, cute boy that had just one, little, big problem... he fucked like one.

He fucked like he was scared of breaking you, actually, no he didn't fuck at all... he made love, which would have been fine... if it wasn't for the fact that he wasn't any good at it.

Every time you had sex he lasted no more than a few minutes (on his good days) and it was always just the same, always missionary, always slow and breathy and just not... right.

And it's not like you hadn't tried, god knows how many times you had, you tried changing positions, switching up his thrusting method, or even asking him to go down on you, but the outcome was always the same... you were left unsatisfied, every. single time.

You had even gone as far as starting to wonder if perhaps the problem was you, but then again every time you were alone everything worked just fine.

And as perfect as he was, there's only as much a girl can take.

You needed sex, the real kind, you needed to get fucked good, by a man who didn't need instructions, by someone who wasn't afraid to take what he wanted, by a man, you needed a real man.

And perhaps you'd always had one in mind.

You were in the kitchen, the fridge open, the cool air hardening your nipples, just a tiny white tank top on you, no bra, only a pair of panties.

You came down here to get a drink, but your focus had shifted to your fingers beneath your panties, drawing fast circles on your clit.

And yes it was pathetic, masturbating in a kitchen that wasn't even yours, but your body was desperate for that orgasm your boyfriend had deprived you of not even 10 minutes ago.

You were caging your bottom lip between your teeth, trying not to make a sound, but as all your emphasis went there, you must have stopped listening for anyone coming and missed the footsteps stomping down the stairs.

"I thought you'd be aslee-" 

his eyes widened as he finally took you in

"shit I'm sorry darlin'-" he apologized, his eyes diverting a moment too late, only after they had taken you in completely, only after they had taken a good glimpse of your tits, and of the hand in your underwear.

To say you were red was an understatement.

He was there, the man you were just thinking of (although you had tried to refrain) was there, right in front of you, in all his broadness and glory, looking every bit of hot as ever,

him, your boyfriend's dad, 

Mr. Miller had just caught you masturbating while standing in his kitchen.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't-I was just-I needed water and I-"

You finally rushed your trembling fingers out of your panties, your chest heaving and your voice breaking.

"No need to apologize sweetheart" he shook his head, his gaze finding yours "'s alright"

And although you were half naked, his eyes remained on yours.

Because that's how he was, that's how Mr. Miller was,

He was a gentleman,

In a world of boys, he was a gentleman.

Just like that time he caught you just out of the shower, just as every time he wouldn't let you open your own door, not on his watch, just as every dinner, every expense, every single thing, was his treat, and he didn't need a thank you, he did it because that's simply how he did things, how he'd been taught to treat women.

You watched each other for a moment, you panicking, him as calm as ever, and only after a good minute, did you finally feel brave enough to say something,

"I-I think I'll go-"

He frowned, "didn't you come here to get a drink?"

You swallowed, realizing your hands were empty "I-I did, you're right"

You opened the fridge again, and to the demise of your heart, he stepped closer, watching you like a hawk from above, and stealing all the air out of your lungs.

"What were you doing sweetheart?"

You swore you could have started crying right there and then.

Did he really just ask that?

Why the fuck would he ever ask that?

"I-I wasn't- I wasn't doing anything, Mr. Miller"

He tried to hide the smirk crawling on his lips, but a shadow of it still appeared

"now we both know that ain't true, darlin'" he smiled, as you took a bottle of water and closed the fridge to try and keep your brain occupied by something else other than this fucking man.

You took a deep breath, looking up at him.

Your bottom lip was between your front teeth, and with his thumb, he freed it, his hand lingering on your chin.

"there's no need to be shy" he murmured, his voice as sweet as honey "I just wanna help"

And as always, as always his touch melted you completely, like ice in the August sun.

"M-Mr. Miller-"

"yes, doll?"

only hearing him call you that made your breathing hitch.

"I..."

"just tell me," his voice was as low and hot as it could be "I won't judge"

And then, for some reason, you did, You told him the truth.

maybe he had put a spell on you, or maybe, just maybe, you would have done anything this man asked for.

"I was- I was touching myself"

But of course he knew, you could see it all over his face as he nodded, his eyes now a shade darker.

"and why's that?" he asked, stepping an inch closer,

you took a step back to get out of his penetrating aura, just to realize he had confined you between the table and his body with nowhere else to go.

"my son's just upstairs" he continued, his eyes scrutinizing every inch of your face "Couldn't he have helped with that?" 

You gulped as his fingers gently moved some hair out of your face, making you shiver altogether

"I know if I were him, I would want nothing more than to do just that" he murmured "I would want to pleasure you in any way I could" and then, as if he'd gotten back to himself, to the respectful gentleman you'd always known, he dropped his hand, "so why were you touching yourself, sweetheart?"

What were you supposed to say?

That his son couldn't do it?

That in 3 months of dating, he'd made you come a total of 0 times?

Now that's not really a conversation you wanted to have with his father, was it?

"I was just- I- I don't know Mr. Miller" you lied

But he saw right through you, his head shaking in disapproval

"but you do know, doll" he urged "There's gotta be a reason"

And then it clicked.

He knew. Somehow he fucking knew.

"I-I-" you stuttered "It's just that Jason... he- he can't-"

but you couldn't end that sentence, how could you ever?

So of course, he did it for you.

"He can't make you come"

And the darkness was back again, the gentleman long gone.

"ain't that right?"

You could only offer a shy nod

"a pretty thing like you..." he murmured, his breath tickling your skin as he leaned closer, "and he's not taking care of you..." he tsked "Now that's a shame"

his hands were on your waist, holding you in place.

"I thought I'd taught him how to treat a woman... guess I was wrong" he shook his head "I mean look at you," he murmured "he should be making you come until you can't take it anymore"

"Mr. Miller-" you whimpered

"yes sugar"

"please" you begged, not exactly knowing for what

"Please what?" he asked, his right hand stroking your sides "you want somethin' from me?"

"I-I" you stumbled over your own words, not knowing how to get them out "Could you- could you please do it?"

He smirked properly at that, his left hand lowering down your belly

"do what?"

"you know" you breathed "You know what"

He inhaled your scent, his eyes still focused on yours "Say it" he ordered "Say it and I'll do it"

And what could you have done, if not exactly what he'd just said

"Please Mr. Miller" you pleaded "please make me come"

His fingers were beneath your panties before you could get another word out.

"Ah-" you gasped

"shhh" he shushed you, "Don't worry darlin'" he murmured "I'm here, I'll take care of you" he said, his big hand cupping your whole pussy

"look at that" he grinned, his mouth ghosting yours "she's already wet f'me”

A gasp fled your throat again as his finger seeped between your folds, gathering your slick and teasing your hole just to travel up to your clit

“Mmm” he hummed “so wet doll” he shook his head, smiling devilishly “are you always like this for me?” he asked, “For your boyfriend’s father?“

And although the fact that you could feel his hard cock against your thighs made that taunt more than a little hypocritical, you still couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed.

“Answer me” he urged, his lips now grazing yours

“Yes” you confessed, your voice nothing more than a whisper “I-I am Mr. Miller”

He groaned at that

He knew it was wrong, that everything about this was wrong, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about this, if he said hearing you call him Mr. Miller with that sweet voice of yours every day didn't make his cock half hard, if he said that from the moment he met you, he hadn't been jealous of his own son.

"here's how this is gonna work sweetheart" he breathed, his fingers gripping the edge of your panties "I'm gonna taste you now... because fuck me, but I need to-" he explained, slowly lowering your underwear "And you..." he smiled, your panties suddenly on the ground "you're gonna be a good girl and stay quiet" 

His lips lowered from right next to your ear, onto your pulse point

"Can you do that f'me?"

A little squeak left your mouth, and a deep chuckle rumbled from his chest

"Can you be a good girl f'me, doll?"

You didn't trust yourself with words, so all you did was nod

"good" he hummed, his lips on your clavicle "Now get on the table"

And so you did, you hopped on the table, and he kneeled before you, his hands on your thighs.

"Spread your legs sugar" he said, having you obliging immediately

A soft appreciative sound erupted from his throat.

"prettiest pussy I've ever seen" he purred, leaning closer to it "on the prettiest girl I've ever seen"

Your belly was moving up and down in sync with your erratic breathing, but he didn't seem to care, his only focus was between your legs.

he looked as if he did this every day, as if fucking his son's girlfriend was an everyday thing.

He started off slow, his lips meeting the inside of your thighs, then your mound, then your lips, and then, just when you felt a moment away from bursting, his tongue came to play, as he licked between your folds without care, groaning in pleasure at the taste of you.

"Delicious" he hummed "You're fucking delicious doll" he looked at you, continuing to do so even when his hands gripped your thighs, and his talented muscle teased your hole, making you gasp and forcing your right hand to his hair.

"Does he do this?" he couldn't stop himself from asking "Does he eat this pretty pussy sweetheart?"

"n-no" you managed to whisper as he continued his work, now savoring you entirely while deliberately avoiding your clit.

"Now that's just wrong," he said, his eyes unfocusing from yours and lowering to your heat for a moment "look at that" he murmured, watching mesmerized as your juices drenched his mouth "I could eat this pussy for every meal"

And that was it, he was done with teasing all of a sudden, his lips were on your clit, sucking it deliciously as fingers you didn't even notice having gone from your leg thrust into you with ease.

"O-Oh s-shit" you moaned, although trying not to do so.

"quiet sweetheart" he shushed you, going back to his work in a moment

His fingers were now curling upwards, finding that spot that made you see stars like he knew your body better than yourself, or certainly, better than his son.

His tongue was alternating between lapping at your clit and sucking on it, and he expected you to not make a sound? now that was just impossible.

"oh my god" you gripped his hair, his fingers speeding up "o-oh my god-Mr. Miller- i-it feels so good"

"I know it does" he answered "I can feel it, sweetheart"

And then he was back at work, and as you watched enchanted how perfect he looked between your thighs, his hair a mess, his eyes so dark they didn't even seem brown anymore... you felt it, you felt the orgasm approach faster than it ever had, embarrassingly fast one could say, but then again, it certainly wasn't your fault, Mr. Miller knew what he was doing.

"I-I think-" you cried

"I know" he didn't need you to finish "Let go f'me, doll"

And so you did, you bit your lip and threw your head back as an orgasm powerful enough to kill you took over your body, leaving you a whimpering, wobbly mess.

"fucking delicious" he groaned, selfishly licking your core once again before he was back up to you, watching as you breathed heavily into the air.

"felt good?"

"yeah," you smiled mindlessly "felt amazing Mr. Miller"

"good enough to want another one?"

You didn't need to think twice

"yes" you breathed, one of your arms going between his neck as you begged him, while the other found the bulge in his boxers "please" you swallowed "Please fuck me"

"you want my cock?" he asked, already freeing it from his briefs "is that it?"

"yes," you whimpered, 

"how much?"

"a lot" you promised "I want it so much Mr. Miller, please"

"yeah?" he taunted, positioning it at your entrance

"yeah-" you managed before he had pushed into you, making such a feeling erupt in you that you forgot all about your boyfriend upstairs and cried loudly because fuck it, but he was so fucking big.

His hand covered your mouth before you had even realized what had happened.

"I thought you said you were gonna be good" 

Your eyes widened as your pussy still tried to accommodate the importance of him

A muffled "I'm sorry" made it to his ears

"I wouldn't wanna have to stop"

"no" you begged immediately "no please don't stop" You shook your head, so desperate you would have felt pathetic if it wasn't that you weren't thinking about anything anymore besides your pleasure, besides him, besides this, whatever it was.

"if I take this off you you'll be quiet?" he asked, nodding to his hand

"yes," you nodded "yes, sir, please"

Sir?

Fuck

If his cock could have gotten harder it would have.

"alright then" he conceded, taking his hand away "Can I move sweetheart?"

"mh-mh" you hummed, nodding eagerly

a soft grin spread over his face at that, but before you could fully take in the beauty of it, of him, of his patchy salt and pepper beard and pink lips, he had done as you asked, and started moving

"fuck" you whimpered "y-you're so big"

The implication behind your words hit you only after having pronounced them, but he was kind enough not to comment on it.

"and yet you're taking me all like a good girl" he groaned "taking all of my cock inside this tight little pussy of yours"

His right hand got rid of your tank top, pulling it down until your boobs spilled from it so he could grab and grope at them freely while his thrusts got faster, and somehow, somehow even fucking deeper, and you were just- god you were in another universe, and right when you shut your eyes, your forehead falling to his in bliss, another moan escaped you, and his hand found your lips again

"What did I tell you sweetheart?" he grunted, his pace not slowing down "I need you to stay quiet" he explained again "I need you to be good and not make a sound so I can fuck you like you nee-"

"Babe?"

Your heart skipped a beat.

It was his voice, your boyfriend's voice, coming from upstairs

"babe, is everything alright?"

Your eyes widened and his movements stopped as you stared into each other's eyes for a moment

What do I do? What do I do? what the fuck do I do?

"answer him," Joel said, freeing your mouth without any further explanation.

"I-" you mumbled

"do it sweetheart, or he's gonna come down here, and I don't think either of us want that"

And so of course, you did

"I-I'm fine!" you yelled

"are you sure?"

And just when you were about to answer, his fingers materialized on your clit, circling it.

You gasped, widening your eyes at him 

"answer" he commanded, not stopping, the opposite actually, starting his thrusts again "Answer him doll"

"b-but"

"just do it" he murmured "Tell him you're sure"

You gulped, breathing heavily, 

"I'm sure!" 

"Ok"

And just like that, as if it were a miracle, Jason stopped his questioning, and you hid your face into the crook of Joel's neck, biting his skin as his pace fastened again, making that fucking feeling his son couldn't create take over your whole belly again.

"Mr Miller- oh my god" you cried, actual tears threatening to spill your eyes at the feeling

"shh" he cooed "I know sweetheart I know" he felt your walls tighten around him as the fingers in your hair gripped his locks harder "there we go," he grunted, his cock so deep inside of you you could feel it in your belly "that's all you needed wasn't it?" he asked " for someone to abuse this little pussy" he groaned, "for me, for me to fuck you like you deserve"

his lips were just before yours, not even an inch distancing you from a kiss, and yet, you weren't gonna cross that line, not today.

"yes" you moaned lowly "yes sir, yes"

"fuck" he groaned "you feel so good sweetheart, squeezing me so good... such a good girl"

"oh" you moaned, back into his neck "s-shit"

"'s ok" he purred, his fingers and hips working relentlessly to destroy you completely "'s ok sweetheart just-"

"Babe, can you bring me some water too?"

And if before Joel had stopped, it wasn't even remotely in his plans now. There you were, on the verge of an orgasm, and he was supposed to stop? no fucking way

He did the opposite, he started going harder, the table shifting on the floor.

You gasped and moaned before you finally freed your mouth from your neck, clinging to him as you answered

"Yes!" you screamed, hoping the pure pleasure behind your words wouldn't be hearable "Yes! I-I'm c-coming!"

"Yeah" he groaned into your ear "Yeah you are sweetheart" he purred, completely drowning out whatever response Jason gave you "Now give it to me, come all over my cock like a good girl"

And just like that, white pure bliss washed over you, and for a moment you were somewhere else, heaven, or hell more probably, but another universe for sure.

And you only came back when Joel's grunts sounded in your ears, when his thrusts got more sloppy, when you answered the words "Where do you want it?" with a simple "inside", and then finally, you fully came back to earth when he did, when he filled you up to the brim, remaining still deep inside you so none of it went to waste.

"fuck" he groaned after a while, finally pulling out of you to meet your eyes.

"Mr. Miller-"

You were waiting for the guilt to take over you, but somehow, for whatever reason, it still hadn't, and he felt exactly the same

"Babe?"

"shit" you gasped, getting off the table to put your panties back on.

"you need to go doll" Joel murmured, helping you put your tank top back into place

"Mr. Miller..." you murmured, your voice as shaky as your legs "I've got your come running down my thighs"

A soft smirk pulled at his lips

"should have thought of that before you said you wanted it inside" he taunted, his hands on your waist "or before you decided to touch yourself in my kitchen, sweetheart"

[deen-djarin]

Suds n’ Trunks

Summary: Joel ordered a car washing service…bikini car washing service.

Tags: 18+, No Outbreak!Joel, Cheeky Flirty!Reader, Porn with a sprinkle of plot, Daddy kink, Choking, Joel is a menace and so is reader, Oral (m & f receiving), Unprotected P-in-V, Consensual Creampie

��

The sun shone on the perfect suburban streets of Austin, Texas. So hot you could fry an egg if you wanted to. You rolled your windows down, driving down a neighborhood you’re not familiar with, and pulled up at the house that sits in the cul de sac, a dirty- no filthy ford pickup truck parked on its driveway.

This must be the place.

A sigh fell from your lips as you hopped off your car with your supplies in hand; a bucket, sponge, microfiber rag, and various soaps for different parts of the car. The heat was even worse after you’ve left the comfort of your air conditioned car, but the thought of being out of your clothes and soaked in suds and the cool water excites you.

Once you’ve discovered this lucrative market of bored, horny, lonely middle aged suburban guys— eager to see a show, and maybe get their car cleaned as well, you start to do this gig every summer. The money is good plus these guys tip generously.

Your service by its core is nothing but a mobile car wash, but the carwash is being done by you, clad in a skimpy bikini. c’mon, who wouldn’t want that right?

When you scored your first customer, you became a spectacle for the neighborhood. Your client shamelessly pulls out a lawn chair, having a grand ol’ time “enjoying the sun” as you wash their car. Neighbors walking out their houses mowing their already perfectly trimmed lawn, walking their dogs, cats, and some approached your client for a neighborly talk they probably haven’t had in months.

You’ve gotten the whole neighborhood out of their house basically, then your client list doubles with those people coming over to you and asking to do theirs next. Some cars don't even need washing, but you do them anyway with a smile knowing you’re gonna eat good that night.

Ever since then you decided to do this gig every summer, cheekily naming your little business “Suds ‘n Trunks”.

—

You ring the doorbell of the Miller’s residence and step back. You could hear a soft grumble from behind the door before it opened and reveal a scruffy, middle aged, handsome man. your eyes scans him quickly, his hair tousled, his shoulders broad, big arms, big hands, Jesus Christ you want to just-

“Can I help you?”

His gruff, deep, Texan drawl snaps you out of your trance and brings you back to reality.

“Uhm yes, Mr. Miller? you called for a car wash?” You asked him with a sweet voice you come to learn that older men love, it always works like a charm, making them tip you a fat wad of cash— these men just craved attention from a pretty girl, and you’re happy to give that to them.

“Oh..yeah you could uh, it's that one right there,” he motioned to the dirty pickup truck. You give him a smile and nodded, “okay, i’ll go on and get started then.” Joel nodded and shut the door immediately.

��

A red Ford bronco sat on his driveway, absolutely covered in filth. You usually don't deal with this much grime, dust, and mud. Granted, most cars you’ve washed barely need a wash, the clients just wanted to see you wet and covered in suds, which you couldn’t really blame them.

You took a breath and started to step out of your tanktop and shorts, revealing the red matching bikini you’re wearing underneath and started to go to work.

—

Joel was exhausted after doing several construction projects back to back yesterday, from dawn to the ungodly hours of the night resulting in his beloved truck — Shirley— looking like it had been dragged in the mud…literally.

Joel likes to take care of his things, Shirley is no exception. His free time on the weekends is often spent on his truck in the garage, polishing her to perfection. But after all the hard work he did, just the thought of washing her made his back groan in protest.

So he got the number of your services from his coworkers after they commented on the state of Shirley, a smirk planted on their faces and they kept snickering which Joel found odd, but he was too fed up and exhausted to think twice on booking your services.

Joel grunts as he settles on his couch, his cold bottle of beer in one hand, the tv remote on the other. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table, and turned on the TV.

It's finally his time for him to take his hard-earned relaxation time. which should be easy, but he could hear the annoying sputtering sound of his neighbor’s lawnmower.

That thing needs more oil. He thought to himself as he took a sip of his beer.

Then another sound of a lawnmower sounded from the other side of the house, even more annoying than the first.

What the fuck? Why are they all mowin’ the lawn at the same time? at this hour? he thought.

Then comes the obnoxious yapping of Mr. Thompson's french bulldog and chihuahua.

What the hell is goin’ on? it's a whole ruckus out there.

He groaned, frustrated that the whole neighborhood seems to be against his well deserved relaxing time. He grumbled as he strides towards his window, drawing up the blinds to see what the fuck is going on out there.

His eyes nearly bulged out, blush quickly crept up his neck to his cheeks, and his cock twitching in his pants instantly at the sight.

You, bend over in the hood of his car, wet, covered in suds, in a fucking bikini. He tried to look away, he really did, but the way your hips sways, your ass jiggled, as you scrubbed hard with the caked on mud on his truck— it was hypnotizing.

—

“What the hell are ya doin’?”

The sight of Joel's furrowed brow as he stared at you in your revealing outfit was a mix of disapproval and desire. Your sweet smile remained as you answered his question, "Mr. Miller! I'm just washing your car."

His gaze roamed over you, making you shiver with anticipation. "In that?" He grunted, clearly torn between his disgust and arousal. "Well, yes… It's part of my service."

The man stood silent for a moment, his confusion palpable. "Part of your service?"

"Uhm, yeah... It's a bikini car wash service… You didn't know?" you tilted your head, confused.

Joel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "How the hell was I supposed to know?"

"The name is Suds 'n' Trunks," you reminded him softly.

"I know what it's called!" he huffed, clearly frustrated.

Unsure of how to proceed, you hesitated. "So, uhm, you want me to just dress up and go or—"

"No, finish your job," he grumbled, still irritated. Your eyes trailed down to the growing tent in his jeans, confirming the source of his conflicting emotions.

You hid your smirk and purred, "Yes, sir," before returning to your task. The knowledge that you had such a potent effect on him only fueled your desire to please him.

—

Your back is even more curved now, ass sticking up more than they should as you washed the side of his truck, knowing Joel is looking– watching you like a hawk while he sits on the porch, a beer in his hand and a cigarette on the other. you turned your head over your shoulder just to give him a small smile, which he returned with his jaw clenching.

You bask under his gaze, your body tingling, giving him the best show you’ve ever given. you squatted as you started to clean the lower part of the truck, your ass jiggle with every hard scrub you give.

The tension between the two of you is palpable, leaving Joel frustrated, he knows damn well you’re taunting him. He’s torn between wanting to yell at you for acting so unprofessional and embarrassing him in front of the watchful eyes of his nosy neighbors— or fucking you against the truck for payback.

He sits there watching you, contemplating on what to do. You gave him another cheeky look over your shoulder and that was it, his last resolve snapped, fuck it.

—

“Careful with her,” he said lowly as he approached you.

You turned your head, batting your eyelashes, “Hm?”

“You’re goin’ too hard on her, just painted that part,” he murmured as he got closer, just right behind you.

“But the mud is really caked on this part,” you told him and went back to scrubbing.

“A-ah, hey,” he tutted and leaned down behind you, his large palms sitting atop of yours “Gentle…easy does it,” he murmured, his hot breath fanned against your ear.

You had to bite your lip to suppress a moan as you felt his hardness pressed against your thigh. Your hand following his movements, “There we go…there we go, good girl,” he murmured and you swore every part of your body shivered.

“This is gonna take longer to finish, sir,” you murmured, your voice a mere whisper as you turned your head to him.

“I know…but you’re gonna get a bigger reward out of it, how’s that sound hm?” he muttered to your ear before abruptly pulling away from you and sitting back on the porch.

your breath hitched, heartbeat skipping, and the heat between your legs grew hotter. You turned your head towards him to see him sitting back at his porch, his head nodded at you to continue your work, a small smirk curved his lips.

—

You’re halfway done with the truck when his neighbor starts to approach you, a middle aged guy you came to learn named Michael. He’s been clearly hitting on you, and trying to get a closer look on what you’re doing. which usually doesn’t bother you but you could practically feel Joel's watchful eyes boring into your back.

“So you do this for a living?” he asked as he stood a few feet away from you, “It's just a summer gig i do,” you replied with a small smile, keeping the response light.

"Sweet, it's nice seeing a young, beautiful, hard-working woman," he chuckled. Your jaw tensed for a moment before you forced a tight-lipped smile.

"Can you do my car next? It's pretty dirty too," he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. You felt a flush of annoyance, but your eyes met Joel's, who glared disapprovingly from his porch.

"Well, uh..." you hesitated, glancing back at Joel. He shook his head, a clear indication that he didn't want you to entertain Michael's advances. "Sorry, Michael. I'm booked for today... I gotta go somewhere after this."

Michael sighed, "Aw, just my luck," he lamented. "I'll ask Joel for your number, huh? I'll book you as soon as you're free." You chuckled, "Yeah, you go do that."

Michael made his way over to Joel, asking for your number. Joel nodded, but with a grunt, he gave Michael the wrong number. A smirk played on your lips as you returned to your work.

—

After what feels like forever you finally finished with the last drag of your microfiber rag. You let out a sigh and turned around to Joel sauntering his way. “All done Mr. Miller,” you purred.

He looked at his truck, all clean and shiny. A satisfied smirk graced his face, “you did a good job” he praised. “Good enough to get that reward?” you murmured with your head tilted innocently. Joel let out a small chuckle “Mmhm... come on inside and i’ll get it sorted for you, pretty girl.”

Your eyes gleamed with lust and you bit your lip in anticipation as he led you inside his house. The wind hits your wet body, the coolness leaves your nipples even harder, your body tingling with need.

By the time the two of you were inside, Joel’s body was taut, like a spring ready to burst. He couldn’t hold it in anymore, his large palms grab a hold of your wet body and pinned you against his door, you let out a surprised whimper at his sudden actions.

“Been a good girl for me huh? Takin’ care of my truck,” he murmured as he leaned down and his lips grazed your jaw to the skin under your ear. “Been naughty too haven’t you? Tauntin’ me with this sweet ass of yours,” he grabbed your ass and gave it a hard squeeze making you let out a small moan, he pulled you closer, his hard cock pressing against your wet bikini bottoms.

You couldn’t help but grind your hips against him, needy and desperate for friction, eliciting a small moan from you and a groan from him. “What do you have to say about that huh? Pretty girl?,” he muttered and nibbled on your earlobe, “I’m sorry sir” you panted softly.

“Yeah? Doesn’t seem to be that sorry,” he chuckled lowly, his voice gravely and his accent was thicker than before “Think I would have to punish you… you thought it was funny huh? Makin’ me hard as a rock with those fucking neighbors watchin’?” he growled to your ear and slapped your ass, you whimpered and jolted forwards.

“I’m sorry sir..please don't punish me,” you whined and bit your lip. “You’re sorry huh? Go on, pretty thing, show me how sorry you are,” he murmured. You didn't need to be told twice, you fell to your knees, eyes wide as you looked up to his face, hands deftly undoing his belt and jeans and pulling it down along with his boxers.

Your mouth salivated just from the sight of his cock springing free, thick, veiny, and throbbing, just how you thought it would be. He gave you a nod to tell you ‘go on’, you leaned down and darted your tongue out, tasting the heady taste of his precum. He groaned and tossed his head back, hand tangling in your hair and pulled you in, you hummed and finally wrapped your mouth around his girth with a small whimper. Your jaw straining to accommodate him, tongue moving with practiced ease as you sink down deeper, taking in more of him.

“Fuck yeah..good fuckin’ girl…thats it,” he muttered and started to guide your head the way he wanted, you thrive with his praises, taking in him as deep as you could. Gagging and sputtering here and there but you didn't stop at all in search of his approval and satisfaction, you didn’t want to stop. The room was filled with the sound of his grunts and heavy breaths, along with the obscene sounds from you and your muffled whimpers.

Joel nearly came when he saw you starting to snake your hand between your legs, “Naughty fuckin’ slut, touchin’ yourself huh?” he groaned and started to thrust into your mouth, holding your head in place. “You want me to take care of that? Hm?” he growled and you whined as an answer. Suddenly he abruptly pulled you away from his cock, “get on the fuckin’ couch,” he muttered, you scrambled off the floor and quickly gotten on the nearby couch, “on your hands and knees, sweetheart,” he commanded and you did as he said, bending over, facing the backrest of the couch.

He stood behind you and pushed you legs wider, your head craned over your shoulder to look at him with your needy expression, bottom lip between your teeth. He gripped your chin and he leaned down, finally crashing his lips to yours. He was rough, didn’t even hesitate on pushing his tongue into your mouth, tongue dominating yours, making you whine and push your hips back, desperate, begging for him.

His kiss left you panting as he pulled away, he trailed kisses down your back, biting on the knot that holds your bikini top together and pulling on it and letting it unravel, his hand started to grope your tits, playing, pinching, pulling on your sensitive nipples. “Mr. Miller,” you panted “please..”

“Use your word, Baby, what do you need?” he murmured to the crook of your neck. You whimpered and kept moving your hips, “anything- please- your finger, mouth- anything, i need you,” you rambled desperately. Joel chuckled darkly, his large fingers playing with the knots of your bikini bottoms, “needy little thing,” he murmured before pulling on the knots and unraveling the red wet fabric, making it fall to the couch.

Joel practically growled at the sight before him, you, bent over with your ass high in the air, naked, your pussy dripping and ready for him. “Look at you..” he murmured and leaned down, groping your ass and pushing it apart to reveal more of you. “Mmh..” he grumbles before leaning down and placing a broad lick on your cunt. “Oh- god- Mr- mmhngh! Mr. Miller” you whined and pushed your hips more to his face. Joel groaned and started to really eat you out, his large palms splayed on your ass, face completely buried in your drooling pussy. “It's Joel, sweetheart,” he chuckled as he pulled away from your cunt for a second, “I wanna hear ya moan my name.”

“Joel..” you breathed, getting used to the feel of his name on your lips. Joel started to flick his tongue rapidly on your clit, making your eyes roll back and moan out his name, “fuck- ahh! Joel!” He grunted in response, “yeah that’s it, moan my name…mmhhh good fuckin’ girl.”

You were falling apart already at the hands of his tongue, moving on your pussy with practiced ease. Joel relished the sounds of your moans, and the sweet and tangy taste of your cunt. He groaned and started to push his thick fingers to your entrance, “Joel! Ahnghh! F-fuck! mmhngh!!” you cried out, he grunted and pulled away from your pussy for a second, “That’s it baby, you’re gonna cum hm? Gonna be a good girl an cum on my face?” he muttered and curled his digits to hit that heavenly spot within you, you whined in response, barely able to come up with words but nodded with your eyes closed in pleasure. “Good girl, c’mon, come on my face” he panted and started double his efforts, his tongue flicking on your sensitive clit, slurping all your juices, whilst his fingers kept hitting that sweet spot over and over again.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, you back arched and your eyes rolled back, you swore you saw stars. His name kept falling from your lips in between moans and whimpers which he responded with praises.

“good girl, that’s it”

“you’re so pretty when you cum for me”

“tastes so good baby, there you go..”

He peppered kisses across your shoulders and back as he waited for you to come down from your high. “joel..” you panted and kept pushing your hips back to grind against his throbbing cock, eliciting a groan from his lips, “yeah? you want my cock, pretty girl?” he muttered and rutted his hips against you, his cock sliding against your cunt. “yes- please joel- please-“ you let out a loud moan when he suddenly pushed his cock into your core.

“fuuuck” he groaned as he pushed himself in “fuck- shit, baby you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he panted and gripped your hips tight. “joel! oh- f-fuck hhngh!” you whimpered and gripped the back of the couch. Joel pulled back until his cock is almost fully slipped back, you whined at the loss of his stretch, then he slammed back in. “Fuck! Oh- f-fuuckk! Joeel!!” you cried out, “Yeah baby that’s it- shit- yeah take it baby, take it” he growled to your ear and wrapped your hair on his hand and yanked it back. Your head tilted back at the force and he crashed his lips to yours again, swalowing all your moans and whimpers as he fucked you with a relentless pace.

“J-joel” you warned between pants, “Yeah i know baby- fuck- yeah i can feel it,” he groaned and panted “c’mon baby give it to me, cum on my cock, c’mon” he murmured and went faster. The sound of his skin smacking against yours gets louder and louder, the couch groaned and creaked in protest. You could barely utter any coherent words at this point, just slurring his name and how good it feels between moans and pants.

Your back arched and trembles as you cry out his name like a prayer. Joel slowed down for a second, letting you ride out the orgasm, “there you go…hmm there you go” he muttered soothingly, his hips rocking deliberately, slowly. “You can take more, sweetheart?” he murmured to your ear, you couldn’t help but nod. ”Good girl,” he praised to your ear and kissed your jaw before his arm wrapped around your waist, the other around your chest and pulled you up until his chest pressed against your back. He resumed his hard relentless thrusts, his hand on your chest groping and playing with your hard nipples. you felt like floating at this point, just taking everything he gave you like a good girl.

“Who’s pussy is this?” He growled to your ear, you could barely talk just letting out sounds of pleasure, he spanked your ass hard and you gasped out a moan, “Yours! Hahngh! All yours!” you whined, Joel gripped your neck and pulled you closer to him “Who?” he demanded, you panted and choked out, “Yours daddy!” bingo.

He growled and bent you over again, his hand still tight on your neck, choking you just right. “Yeah that’s right, such a good girl for daddy,” he muttered and pounded into you. You kept choking out moans, calling him daddy over and over. He shifted his position, propping one leg on the couch to get a different angle, deeper, and it allowed him to reach that spot within you. “Oh my g- aahhngh!! daddy!! right there, oh fuck- fuck me right there!!” you cried out. He grunted and let out a dark chuckle, “there sweetheart?” he taunted as he thrusted extra hard aiming at that spot again. “yes!! yes- yes please- please i- daddy please” you rambled, begging for him, his cock has reduced you to nothing but desperate and needy. “well since you asked so nicely,” he said coyly before hitting that spot over and over again.

You felt you’re gonna shatter yet again in any second, a ticking time bomb set on your lower belly. “D-daddy i’m- hah- i’m-” you could barely finish your choked out sentence. “Yeah? Gonna cum again for daddy?” he panted to your ear, all you could do was nodded and give a whimper of confirmation. He chuckled darkly and his hand snaked down to rub your clit with fervor while his hips kept pounding to your ass, “Go on then, come for me, come for daddy,” he muttered to your ear.

Your vision blurred and you saw white. It feels like you’re barely conscious, your third orgasm hits you even harder than the last. You didn’t noticed whats happening until joel groaned, “Fuck yeah you’re squirtin’ on me baby- good girl- hhnngh good fuckin’ girl.” Your thighs trembled, wet with your release, red from his thrusts.

He finally let go of your neck and you gasped out for much needed air, his thrusts started to stutter. “Where do you want it?” he panted to your ear, “Inside, inside daddy, please,” you begged and started to move your hips to meet his. Joel couldn’t hold back any longer, 1, 2, 3 hard thrusts later and he came completely undone inside you. “Fuuuckk!! Fuck yeah- oh shit baby” he moaned, “fuck! makin’ me cum so much, pretty girl…oh yeah good fuckin’ girl,” he panted to your ear.

After his hips stilled, he pulled out of you, making you whine and clench around nothing, pushing his hot sticky seed out of you.

He chuckled and whispered to your ear, “look at you…all messy n’ dirty,” he cooed. “You cleaned my truck now it's time for me to clean you,” he murmured before peppering kisses down your spine yet again.

—

author’s note: THIS WAS MY FIRST FIC EVER AHSHSHEH so forgive me if its shitty or the grammar is horrible bc english is my 2nd language:3 ALSO i have never written smut before heheheh, your feedback is greatly appreciated!! thank you for reading this horny piece of literature!!

[elikajinnie]

Mysterious Circumstances - N.R

P: Serial Killer!Ni-ki X FemReader!

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Murder, Corruption, Blood/Injury, Deceit, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Jealousy, Attempted Murder, everybody say poor jiung.

Synopsis: When you move into a new apartment, your mysterious neighbor Ni-ki catches your attention—but so does a dangerous murderer with an unsettling obsession with you. As your friend Jiung warns you that Ni-ki may be hiding secrets, you're forced to question who you can trust.

Wordcount: 29k

a/n: rewatching dexter morgan now cause why not? anyways enjoy and feel free to leave feedback and reblog <3

--

In this economy, it was nearly impossible to find an affordable place as a student trying to juggle both work and school. But somehow, luck had tipped in your favor, and you managed to land a tiny student apartment. Sure, it was a bit removed from the city center, and the bus route wasn’t always reliable, but it was yours.

Moving day had been chaotic, but a few neighbors were kind enough to offer help as you dragged your furniture and bags inside. Over the next few days, you got to know a handful of them. There was Mrs. Han, an older woman who always had a story to share and a recipe for every occasion, and there were two other students who, like you, often looked like they were running on pure caffeine and sheer willpower.

The only person you hadn’t met was your next-door neighbor. You'd actually thought the apartment beside yours was empty; the place was as quiet as a graveyard, and you'd never heard a single noise from it. It isn’t until Mrs. Han brings you a steaming bowl of her homemade stew that you learn the truth.

“Ah, dear,” she says between sips of the tea you made for her, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “You must meet the young man next door! Such a nice fellow, but he’s been away. Family in Japan, you know?”

Her enthusiasm catches you off guard. You chuckle lightly, trying to play it cool. “Sure, sounds nice,” you say, but a hint of curiosity creeps in.

“Oh, he’s so handsome!” she insists, her voice laced with genuine fondness. “You two would make such a lovely couple!”

You pause, your laughter dying in your throat. “Thanks, but I’m not looking for anyone,” you explain, the weight of your recent breakup hanging over you like a dark cloud.

Mrs. Han`s face falls slightly, but her optimism doesn’t waver. “That’s unfortunate... You would have liked him!”

“What’s his name?” you ask, playing along, if only to satisfy your own curiosity.

“Nishimura Ri-ki,” she replies, her smile returning as she savors the sound of his name, as if it were a cherished secret.

You nod, storing that name away for a later moment when you might need it, a faint ember of intrigue igniting within you.

So, you settled in, figuring it’d be a while before you’d have a chance to meet him, if ever.

But one night, as you were deep into your notes, trying to make sense of a mountain of study material, you heard it—the unmistakable click of the door next door opening, then closing softly. Footsteps, light and deliberate, moved across the floor, and you caught the sound of muffled words in Japanese.

There was a rustling, the faint scrape of what sounded like heavy bags being set down, and then silence. After a moment, a new thought clicked into place—your elusive neighbor had finally returned.

Curiosity tugged at you, but you hesitated. It wasn’t as though you could just walk over and knock. He’d likely just gotten back from a long trip and would want to settle in. But as you listened to the familiar sounds of unpacking through the wall, you wondered what he was like. Maybe he'd be just another busy student like you, or maybe… someone you wouldn’t expect.

And one morning, as you’re hurrying down the hall, you finally see him.

He’s standing outside his door, tall—very tall—with dark hair falling into his eyes as he fumbles sleepily with his keys, muttering something under his breath. There's an effortless, almost careless confidence in the way he stands, the kind that draws your attention without even trying. When he finally looks up, his eyes meet yours, and the old woman’s words echo in your head: handsome.

He has a striking face, sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and piercing eyes that seem both focused and detached. His build is slim yet lean, and he’s dressed in a way that’s understated but impossibly stylish. It’s hard not to notice; there’s a refined edge to him that somehow makes the early-morning grogginess look deliberate, like it’s just part of his charm.

At first glance, he seems… intimidating. The intensity in his gaze catches you off guard, and for a moment, you find yourself frozen, unsure if you should look away or say something.

“Ah, you must be the new neighbor,” he says, his voice smooth and warm, carrying a casual friendliness that makes you feel as if you’re talking to someone you’ve known for ages.

You nod, feeling a slight, inevitable awkwardness. “Yeah, that’s me. Nice to finally meet you… Ri-ki, right?”

He grins, nodding. “That’s right. But you can call me Ni-ki—that’s what most people use.”

You offer him your name in return, and he repeats it softly, as if testing it, making sure he gets it just right. There’s a faint trace of an accent in his voice, a subtle lilt that adds to his charm.

“Nice name,” he says, giving you a small, genuine smile. His smiles are understated, almost reserved, yet they have a sincerity that leaves an impression. And just for a second, his gaze lingers on you—curious, almost as if he’s sizing you up. You catch it, but brush it off as nothing.

“If you ever need anything, just knock,” he says, leaning back with a quiet ease. “I’m still getting back into the swing of things here, but I’m around.”

With that, he gives a casual wave and slips into his apartment, leaving you alone in the hallway. You stand there, still feeling the warmth of his voice, and can’t help but wonder if the old lady had been right about him after all.

In the days that followed, you found yourself crossing paths with Ni-ki more frequently, mostly in the early mornings when you were both heading out. There was an ease to these encounters—a nod, a brief exchange of “good mornings,” maybe a small smile from him. He had a quiet way of being friendly, but you noticed a certain mystery to his routine. While you only ever seemed to run into him during the day, at night, you’d often hear the door to his apartment open and close. You figured he had some job with late hours, something that kept him out through the night.

One morning, though, your usual passing-by turned a little strange.

As you were locking your door, Ni-ki appeared down the hallway, carrying a bag slung over one shoulder. He stopped in front of his door, setting the bag down to dig for his keys. Just as he was fishing them out, a roll of duct tape slipped out and rolled across the floor, stopping neatly at your feet.

You crouched down, picking it up, and turned it over in your hand, your eyes meeting his for a brief moment as you handed it back. “You dropped this.”

Ni-ki blinked, then gave you a soft, appreciative smile as he took it from you. “Thanks,” he said, tucking the tape back into his bag without another word, and slipping into his apartment with a nod. You couldn’t quite place it, but the encounter left you feeling slightly unsettled, even if you brushed it off as nothing.

With a sigh, you headed down to the street, making your way to the building’s parking lot. You hated this route, especially at night, with the narrow alleyways and strewn trash. A few small shops lined the way, and there was always a sense of something lingering in the shadows. But it was the only path to the lot, so you resigned yourself to walking it, tightening your grip on your bag.

Halfway there, you paused, catching sight of a familiar sight on the wall outside a laundromat: a collection of missing person posters. You’d noticed them when you first moved in—rows of faces staring back at you, each one accompanied by details of last sightings and worried pleas from family members. It had unsettled you from the beginning, so much so that you avoided coming home too late. And when you did, you always clutched your pepper spray tightly in your bag.

Today, however, something different caught your eye. There was a new poster on the wall, freshly pinned beside the others. The picture was of a young woman, her smile frozen in a snapshot of happier days. Below the photo, it said she had last been seen three days ago, near her home. A chill ran down your spine as you stared at it.

You turned away quickly, heart racing as you hurried towards the parking lot, relief flooding over you as you finally got to your car and locked the doors.

--

It was late afternoon when you returned home from work, your feet aching as you climbed the stairs. Just as you rounded the corner toward your apartment, you spotted one of your neighbors standing in the hallway. He looked a little worn out himself, books and papers spilling out of his bag, but he straightened up and offered a friendly smile when he noticed you approaching.

“Hey! You’re the new neighbor, right?” he asked.

You nodded, and he introduced himself as Jiung, one of the other students who shared the floor with you. You exchanged a few polite comments about school, life in the building, and eventually, you found yourself laughing at his stories about late-night study sessions gone wrong. “Hey, we should study together sometime!” Jiung suggested enthusiastically. “I could use a study buddy to keep me on track.”

You were about to respond when the door to Ni-ki’s apartment opened, and he stepped out, a bag slung over his shoulder. He looked like he was on his way somewhere, but he paused when he saw you and Jiung talking. There was no emotion in his gaze as he glanced at Jiung, who greeted him with a friendly nod. “Hey, Ni-ki! How’s it going?”

Ni-ki gave the briefest nod in response, eyes cool and unreadable. It wasn’t exactly unfriendly, but there was a noticeable distance. However, when you spoke up, greeting him with a casual “Hey, Ni-ki,” his whole demeanor shifted. His gaze softened as it landed on you, and the corners of his mouth curved into a faint smile.

“Hey,” he replied, voice warm, and he seemed to hold your gaze for a beat longer than necessary. “Headed out for a bit,” he added, lifting the strap of his bag as if in explanation. “I’ll see you around.”

“See you,” you replied, catching that small, almost private smile he gave before he turned and headed down the hallway.

Once he was gone, you turned back to Jiung, your curiosity piqued. “What’s he like? Ni-ki, I mean. He seems… quiet.”

Jiung shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, he’s not much of a talker. I’ve seen him around, but he usually keeps to himself. I’m surprised he smiled at you. That’s not something I’ve seen him do.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? He seems nice enough.”

“Nice? Sure,” Jiung chuckled, a hint of disbelief in his tone. “Just… mysterious, I guess.”

You couldn’t help but shrug, your thoughts lingering on the way Ni-ki had looked at you. It was easy to let your mind wander about him, but you shook it off, needing to focus on your own routine.

“Anyway, I should get going,” you said, unlocking your door and stepping inside. “But I’d love to study together soon!”

Jiung waved goodbye, and you kicked off your shoes, letting the familiar comfort of your apartment wash over you. After tossing your bag onto the couch, you headed straight for the bathroom, eager to wash away the day.

After your shower, you were heading to the kitchen to make dinner, the sudden sound of your doorbell caught you off guard. Peeking through the peephole, you spotted Jiung standing in the hallway, looking cheerful and a bit expectant.

Curiosity piqued, you opened the door. “Hey! What’s up?”

“Hey! I was just wondering if you wanted to grab dinner at that little diner down the street,” he offered, his enthusiasm contagious. “I hear their burgers are amazing!”

The idea was tempting, and you found yourself smiling. “Sure! That sounds great.”

Within moments, you were both strolling down the street, the evening air pleasantly cool against your skin. Jiung chatted easily, sharing amusing stories from his day that had you laughing.

Once you settled into a cozy booth at the diner, you couldn’t help but appreciate how at ease Jiung made you feel. As you perused the menu, you turned the conversation toward him. “So, what do you do for work?” you asked, genuinely curious.

His eyes lit up as he leaned back, a grin on his face. “I work in criminology.”

You blinked, taken aback. “Wait, really? I knew you studied crime, but I didn’t realize you had a job in it!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” he replied, a hint of pride in his voice. “I’m mostly in the back right now, just filling out papers and doing administrative stuff. But with everything going on—the people disappearing—I’ve been able to look into some of the cases.”

You leaned in, intrigued. “What do you think about it? Do you really think they’ll find the people?”

Jiung’s expression shifted, a seriousness replacing the earlier lightheartedness. “Honestly? I think they’ll find most of them in a ditch somewhere… dead,” he said, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

A chill ran down your spine, the earlier comfort now tinged with unease. “That’s… grim,” you said quietly, feeling a knot in your stomach at the thought. “Do you think they’re all connected?”

He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “It’s hard to say. There are definitely patterns in cases like this, but a lot of it just feels random. It’s the uncertainty that gets to you. You never know what’s going to happen next.”

You both fell into a contemplative silence, the diner buzzing around you, the laughter of other patrons fading into the background as the weight of the conversation settled in.

“Let’s change the topic,” you suggested, attempting to lighten the mood. “What’s your favorite kind of burger?”

Jiung’s expression brightened at your attempt to shift the conversation. “Oh, definitely a classic cheeseburger! You can’t go wrong with a juicy patty and melted cheese,” he said, his enthusiasm returning as he leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “How about you? What’s your go-to?”

You laughed, relieved at the change in tone. “Hard to say!”

He nodded “Well we should totally do a burger night sometime, try out different places around here.”

“I’m in! I’ve been wanting to explore more of the area,” you replied, feeling a sense of excitement at the prospect of more outings together.

Just then, the waitress arrived to take your order, and you both made your selections, sharing a few more laughs as Jiung recounted a funny story from his work. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and as your food arrived, you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company.

With each bite of your burger, you felt more at ease. Jiung was a great conversationalist, effortlessly switching from light-hearted jokes to more serious topics, never lingering too long on any one subject.

After finishing your meal, you leaned back in your seat, satisfied. “That was amazing! I’m definitely coming back here,” you said, glancing at Jiung.

“Right? It’s a hidden gem,” he agreed, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “So, what else do you like to do when you’re not buried in schoolwork?”

You took a moment to think, then smiled. “I love camping with friends. It’s a nice break from everything.”

“Camping, huh? That sounds awesome! I haven’t been in ages,” he said, his face lighting up. “I’d love to join you guys sometime if you ever need an extra hand.”

“Absolutely!” you replied.

Eventually, you realized how late it had gotten. With a reluctant sigh, you reached for your phone to check the time. “Wow, we should probably head back. I have class early in the morning,” you said, feeling a slight twinge of disappointment at the thought of the night ending.

“Yeah, I should get back too. I have some work to finish up,” Jiung replied, but there was a hint of reluctance in his voice as well.

When you reached your building, you turned to Jiung with a smile. “Thanks for dinner, Jiung. I had a great time!”

“Me too! We definitely need to do this again,” he replied, his smile wide and genuine.

You waved goodbye to Jiung, the warmth of the evening still buzzing in your chest as you stepped into the building. The comforting familiarity of your apartment awaited you, and you closed the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment to savor the afterglow of a good night.

After dropping your bag onto the couch, you moved through the small space, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

As you got ready for bed, your mind wandered back to Jiung’s laughter and the easy way he’d made you feel. You smiled at the thought of him, picturing the way he’d animatedly shared stories, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm.

You brushed your teeth and slipped into your pajamas, the familiar routine comforting you as you settled into bed. As you pulled the covers up, a sense of sleepiness enveloped you, and you closed your eyes, allowing the events of the day to fade into the background.

Meanwhile, just on the other side of the wall, Ni-ki stood silently in his dimly lit bedroom. The faint light of the street lamps outside illuminated the room, casting shadows on the wall that separated him from you. He was staring at that very wall, deep in thought.

Thoughts swirled in his mind, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of how drawn he was to you. The way you’d smiled at him earlier, your laughter echoing even in his thoughts, was intoxicating. There was something about you that felt different—refreshing and genuine. You captivated him in a way that made it hard to focus on anything else, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to truly know you. The longing to have you in his arms for himself coursed through him, an obsession that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

As he stood there, he couldn’t help but realize how you had taken over his every thought since he had returned home. Every little interaction replayed in his mind, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke, the softness in your voice. He felt an urge to be closer to you, to share more than just a wall.

Unable to resist, he walked closer to the wall, his heart pounding in anticipation. At the edge of his room, he crouched down near a small hole, a remnant from when the building had been renovated. It was barely noticeable, easily missed by anyone else. But to him, it was a window into a world he yearned to explore.

Peering through the tiny opening, he felt a rush of emotions as he caught a glimpse of your bedroom. There you were, peacefully sleeping on your bed, the gentle rise and fall of your chest barely visible in the dim light. The sight struck him with an overwhelming sense of want. You looked so serene, completely unaware of his presence, and he felt a strange mix of admiration and longing wash over him.

For a moment, time stood still as he watched you, entranced by the vulnerability of the moment. The shadows danced around your figure, and he wished more than anything to reach out, to bridge the distance that lay between you. But he knew he couldn't—not yet.

As the seconds stretched into minutes, he began to feel his thoughts spiraling, sinking deeper into an obsession that had taken root faster than he’d ever anticipated. He felt restless, his mind racing with a relentless need to be closer to you, to make you truly his. His hands clenched into fists, and he tore his gaze away, feeling the tension pulse within him.

Pushing himself up, he took a steadying breath, trying to clear his mind. He grabbed his bag from the corner of his room, hastily slinging it over his shoulder as he headed for the door. The apartment felt stifling, as though the walls themselves were closing in on him. He needed air, space, somewhere to let his restless energy burn itself out.

As he stepped out into the cool night, the familiar darkness of the alleyways called to him, a place where he could blend into the shadows. He moved through the narrow streets with purpose, the muted sound of his footsteps swallowed by the thick silence of the night. His thoughts continued to circle back to you, and he struggled to shake the hold you had on him, the way you’d invaded his every thought.

The alleys, littered with discarded trash and the occasional flicker of a broken streetlight, felt like a fitting place for the storm brewing inside him. Ni-ki knew he’d have to confront these feelings eventually, to figure out what he wanted from you—or rather, what he was willing to do to have it.

--

The next morning, you woke up and began your usual routine. The sun barely peeked through the blinds, casting soft lines of light across your room as you stretched, pushing away the lingering sleepiness. After washing up and getting dressed, you wandered into the kitchen to start breakfast. You flipped on the TV on the counter, letting the morning news fill the quiet apartment.

But today’s news wasn’t the usual report of traffic and weather.

The screen flashed to a somber-faced anchor as she reported the story. “Breaking news this morning. Authorities have confirmed the discovery of several bodies in the nearby forest—those of individuals reported missing over the past few weeks.”

You froze, the toast forgotten in your hand.

“According to sources,” the anchor continued, her voice steady but grave, “all the victims were found in shallow graves scattered throughout the area. While police are withholding certain details of the investigation, it appears the victims suffered similar injuries before being disposed of.”

The camera cut to aerial shots of a dense, mist-shrouded forest, police cars dotting the dirt paths and officials gathering at the edge of the trees. Crime scene tape fluttered in the breeze, sectioning off parts of the forest where investigators combed the ground. The reporter’s voice droned on, but you barely heard the rest, caught in a mix of shock and unease.

Your mind flashed back to the rows of missing person posters in the alleyway, the faces staring back at you.

The broadcast shifted to interviews with shaken locals, expressing their horror and sorrow. You took a shaky breath and forced yourself to turn away from the TV, hoping to shake off the creeping fear that settled in. It was hard to believe this was happening so close to home—and to think that just last night, you'd felt safe, even happy.

You rubbed at your arms, trying to rid yourself of the unease. Part of you wanted to text Jiung, maybe even ask if he’d heard anything. After all, he’d told you just last night that he was beginning to work on some of the missing person cases. Maybe he’d have some answers… or at least a comforting word. But a new thought hit you, one that made your stomach turn—Jiung’s earlier words echoed back to you, cold and direct: they’ll probably find them in a ditch, dead somewhere.

With an effort, you shook it off, grabbing your bag and heading out, trying to focus on the day ahead.

As you stepped out of your apartment, the hallway felt unusually quiet, almost tense, as if it, too, held its breath in response to the morning's grim news. You glanced down the hall, half-expecting to see a few neighbors gathering, maybe exchanging words about the unsettling report. But it was empty, still, as though the building itself had absorbed the heaviness of what you’d just learned.

Making your way toward the elevator, you felt a pang of nervousness, and just as you were about to press the button, the sound of footsteps caught your attention, echoing from around the corner.

You turned and saw Ni-ki. He looked calm, almost unbothered, his expression as unreadable as ever. A hint of a small smile crept onto his face as he noticed you, his eyes flickering over you in that way that always seemed to linger just a beat too long.

“Morning,” he greeted, his voice low and casual.

“Morning,” you replied, trying to muster a steady smile.

“You okay?” he asked, his gaze a little sharper, as if he could sense something was off.

“Just… heard the news. They found the bodies of some of those missing people,” you said quietly, glancing down.

He nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful, as though he were considering the words carefully. “Yeah. It’s unsettling, isn’t it? This city’s not what it used to be.”

You nodded, a strange feeling settling over you. He was calm, too calm. But then again, maybe he was just better at masking his emotions.

“So, off to work?” he asked, his tone light, almost as if he were changing the subject intentionally.

“Yeah,” you said, feeling relieved to talk about something mundane, something far from the gruesome reality of the news. “I should get going.”

“Be careful out there,” he said, and his gaze lingered on you, that same unreadable intensity in his eyes. There was something in the way he looked at you, something that felt both protective and… something else you couldn’t quite name.

With a small nod, you turned and stepped into the elevator, feeling his gaze on you until the doors closed.

--

That evening, as you lay in bed, the feeling of unease crept back, refusing to let you rest.

You shifted beneath the covers, trying to find a comfortable position. It felt like the city was closing in on you, secrets lurking around every corner, even in your own building.

But finally, as exhaustion took its toll, your eyelids grew heavy, and you drifted off, slipping into a restless sleep.

The room around you blurred into shadows, and your dreams stirred, fragmented images of faces you didn’t recognize flashing across your mind. A faint sense of dread seeped into the dream, mingling with the strange silence of the hallways in your building. In your dream, you were walking down a dim corridor, the walls narrowing, pressing in closer with each step.

And then, somewhere in the distance, you heard a voice, low and almost familiar, calling your name.

You turned, but the hallway stretched endlessly, fading into darkness. You started to walk faster, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling, the sense of being watched creeping over you. Every now and then, you'd glimpse shadows flickering at the edge of your vision, but whenever you looked, there was nothing.

The voice grew closer, a deep, almost soothing tone that sent shivers down your spine. It was calling your name again, soft and persistent, like a lullaby pulling you deeper.

In the stillness, you felt a hand on your shoulder, gentle but firm. You spun around, and suddenly you weren’t in the hallway anymore—you were back in your bedroom, lying in bed, your heart pounding as you blinked at the familiar shadows. It took a moment to convince yourself you were truly awake, that whatever presence had been in your dreams was just that—a dream.

But as you stared up at the ceiling, trying to steady your breathing, you felt a lingering presence, as though someone had just left the room, watching you in silence.

The next day, after a long shift at work, you returned home, grateful to finally relax. Dropping your bag by the door, you slipped into something more comfortable and settled on the couch, absently flicking through channels as you tried to unwind.

You didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you stumbled upon a crime show rerun, its familiar theme music drawing you in. Without thinking, you leaned back, letting the sounds and scenes wash over you, instantly hooked by the storyline. The show delved into a detective's pursuit of a mysterious suspect, each piece of evidence drawing him closer to the truth—and closer to a chilling revelation.

As you watched, you couldn’t help but feel a strange, lingering tension, like the details were tugging at something buried in the back of your mind. Each time the show shifted to a dimly lit crime scene or the detective narrowed in on his suspicions, a shiver ran through you. The storyline was fictional, you reminded yourself, just a cleverly crafted script. But the suspense was so gripping, so real, that you could feel your pulse quicken with each reveal.

The episode built to a tense, nail-biting finale as the detective pieced together the last clues. With each passing moment, it became painfully clear that the killer had always been closer than anyone expected. As the scene unfolded, the detective arrived at a secluded cabin on the outskirts of town, where he confronted his best friend—the very friend who had been beside him through every twist and turn of the investigation. The friend tried to justify himself, a calm expression masking a chilling emptiness as he spoke about why he’d done it, how easy it had been to lie, to manipulate the detective into trusting him completely.

The camera closed in on the detective’s face, his expression a mixture of betrayal and horror. As the final credits rolled, the weight of that last revelation hung in the air, you realized you’d been sitting there with your legs tucked to your chest, entirely wrapped up in the drama. You exhaled, blinking as you pulled yourself back into the present. You got up, turning off the TV and glancing around the room, still feeling a faint tension prickling at the edges of your awareness.

You gave yourself a small shake, trying to laugh it off. It was just a TV show, after all. Nothing to get worked up over.

But as you walked toward your bedroom, preparing for bed, you couldn’t shake the faint echo of the show’s final line: “Sometimes, the people closest to us are the ones hiding the darkest secrets.”

You shivered, the weight of that line lingering with you as you slipped under the covers, feeling a strange, nagging unease as the room darkened around you.

--

The night was quiet, the air thick with an eerie stillness as the woman walked down the empty street. Her voice was soft but cheerful as she spoke on the phone, the distant warmth of her father's voice on the other end keeping her company. She laughed lightly, reassuring him, “I’ll be home soon, don’t worry. Just a few more blocks.”

Her voice echoed faintly down the road, but she didn’t notice the lurking shadows around her or the faint glint of the black van parked just a little too conveniently along her path. She was focused on her conversation, on the comfortable thoughts of home.

As she passed the van, a figure stepped from behind it, tall and cloaked in darkness, their features obscured by the smooth, black surface of a mask. In one swift movement, the figure lunged forward, a blade glinting under the dim streetlights. Before she could scream, the knife plunged into her back, silencing her words with a strangled gasp. Her phone clattered to the ground, her father’s voice calling her name desperately from the other end.

In one fluid motion, the figure hauled her up, opened the van door, and shoved her inside. The door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the still night.

The figure adjusted their mask, scanning the area, making sure no one had seen—only to freeze as they noticed a lone figure, a woman standing a short distance away, eyes wide with shock and horror. She’d seen everything.

The masked figure tilted their head, pointing toward her with a gloved hand. “Oh, hello there, sweetheart” they said, the voice disturbingly calm, almost playful.

The woman’s breath hitched, her hands trembling as she took a step back. She tried to scream, to turn and run, but terror had locked her in place. The figure began to move toward her, each step slow and deliberate, closing the distance in long, measured strides.

A strangled sound escaped her lips, and she finally turned, her feet stumbling over themselves as she bolted down the street, desperate for an escape. But her footsteps were matched, quicker, heavier, the figure gaining on her with chilling ease.

She didn’t make it far before she felt a hand clamp over her shoulder, yanking her back with brutal strength. Her scream was muffled as she was dragged backward, her last sight of the quiet street fading as she was pulled into the waiting darkness.

The next day, news broke of a grisly discovery—a woman’s body found stabbed multiple times in a dark alleyway. The details were still emerging, but there were hints of something more chilling: a second woman reported missing, suspected murdered.

The morning news report broke in as you settled into your seat for lunch at school, your friends gathered around the table, chatting and laughing. But the tone shifted as Ji-wong's voice rose above the clamor.

“Did you guys hear? They found a woman’s body in an alleyway last night,” she said, her face a mix of shock and disbelief. “She was stabbed multiple times. It’s all over the news.”

Your heart sank as you absorbed her words. You glanced at the TV mounted in the cafeteria, the screen flickering with images of the crime scene, police tape strung around the darkened alley, a crowd of reporters clamoring for details. The news anchor’s voice droned on, detailing the discovery.

You could hear your friends exchanging hushed whispers, their voices overlapping in concern and intrigue. “Can you believe it?” one of them exclaimed, shaking their head. “How could something like this happen here?”

Another chimed in, “It’s so scary. We walk these streets all the time!”

You remained quiet, a knot tightening in your stomach as you picked at your food. Your friends continued to discuss theories about the killer, sharing opinions about how to stay safe, but all you could focus on was the weight of the news.

Ji-wong glanced over at you, concern etched on her face. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked gently, sensing your quietness.

You nodded, forcing a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah, just… a lot to take in.”

She nodded, but you could see the worry linger in her gaze as the conversation shifted back to the details of the crime, leaving you lost in your thoughts.

After school, you and your friends made your way to Hyerin’s place, arms full of books and bags. Her apartment was warm and welcoming, instantly lifting the tense cloud. The group settled in, books sprawled across the coffee table as you attempted to study, though the conversation soon drifted to lighter topics.

Not long after, someone suggested ordering pizza, and before you knew it, the textbooks were forgotten as laughter filled the room, everyone relaxed and joking around. Between bites of pizza and bursts of laughter, time flew by, the clock on the wall ticking faster than you realized. By the time you glanced at it, it was well past midnight.

A slight unease settled over you as you checked the time again. “I should probably get going soon,” you said, not wanting to admit that the thought of walking home this late made you nervous.

But Hyerin just waved her hand, dismissing your concern. “Don’t worry about it! You can just stay here. We have extra blankets and space on the couch.”

Relieved, you nodded, grateful to avoid the long walk through the dark streets. “Thanks, Hyerin. I really didn’t want to be out after midnight.”

“Of course!” she said brightly. “I wouldn’t want to walk out there either. And besides, it’s more fun with you here.”

--

Ni-ki stared through the small hole, his gaze tracing over your empty room, irritation bubbling under his calm exterior. You weren’t home. The thought gnawed at him, and he found himself pacing across his apartment, restless. He glanced at the clock on the wall, each passing second heightening his frustration until he muttered a low curse, grabbing his bag before stepping out.

He paused outside your door, jaw clenched as he stared at it, mind racing. Just then, he heard footsteps, and when he looked up, Jiung was locking his own door. “Hey,” Jiung said casually, but Ni-ki's mind was racing with questions.

“Where’s Y/N?” Ni-ki asked, trying to keep his tone neutral, though he could feel the tension coiling inside him.

“Oh, she’s with a friend,” Jiung replied, shrugging as he continued on his way.

A spark of anger ignited in Ni-ki’s chest. Why did Jiung know where you were? Why did he have that information when Ni-ki did not? But he masked his irritation with indifference, taking a steadying breath, his expression smoothing into cold neutrality as he watched Jiung’s back disappear through the door. He waited a moment, then slipped out of the building behind him, falling into step at a distance.

The night air was crisp, brushing against his skin as he moved silently, slipping on a mask to cover the lower half of his face, fingers grazing the blade concealed in his bag. He kept his steps light, trailing Jiung with a practiced patience, biding his time.

But then, his gaze shifted to a young man walking toward them, absorbed in his phone, completely unaware of his surroundings. Ni-ki paused, the choice lingering between them like an invitation. His eyes followed Jiung, now gaining distance, then flicked back to the man much closer, oblivious, vulnerable.

With a silent groan, he made his decision. He turned from Jiung and closed in on the young man, steps quickening, his grip on the blade tightening. He moved like a shadow, swift and silent, until he was right behind him. In a single, precise motion, his blade flashing in the dim light before the man's gasp was choked into a sickening gurgle, the sound of struggle dwindling into silence.

Ni-ki let the body slump to the ground, sparing a glance over his shoulder to ensure no one had seen. Jiung had already disappeared down the road, blissfully unaware of the fate that had played out in his wake. With one last look at the lifeless figure, Ni-ki wiped his blade, pocketed it, and slipped back into the night.

--

The next day, you returned from Hyerin’s place, still a bit groggy from the late night. But as you neared your building, something felt… wrong. A few police cars were parked on the street, their lights flashing in silent urgency. You blinked, unsure if it was exhaustion playing tricks on you, but the closer you got, the more the scene came into focus.

A section of the street near the entrance was cordoned off with yellow police tape, and a small group of officers clustered around the area, deep in discussion. Your steps slowed as you took in the scene, eyes widening with a growing sense of dread.

Just then, two officers noticed you and made their way over. “Excuse me,” one of them said, glancing down at his notebook before looking back at you. “Do you live in this building?”

You swallowed, feeling suddenly very aware of the tension in the air. “Yes,” you replied, nodding.

The officer’s expression was calm but serious. “Have you noticed anything unusual or suspicious lately?”

You shook your head slowly, feeling a strange weight settle in your chest. “No, I… I was out with a friend last night, actually. I just got back.”

The other officer exchanged a glance with his partner before saying, “If you do happen to notice anything, please report it right away. Safety’s a priority right now.”

Your stomach twisted as a flash of concern crossed your face. “Can I… ask what happened?”

The first officer sighed, nodding slightly as he spoke, “A young man’s body was found nearby early this morning. We’re still investigating, but if you hear or see anything, let us know.”

You nodded, processing his words in silence as you managed a quick goodbye, leaving the officers behind. Your thoughts were a mix of shock and unease as you continued toward your apartment.

By the time you closed the door behind you, your mind was still reeling from what you’d heard. A young man, here?

--

You sat curled up on the couch, the glow of the TV casting dim shadows across the room as you continued with the latest episode of the crime show.

Just as the plot thickened, your doorbell rang. Reluctantly, you tore your attention away, padding over to the door. Peeking through the peephole, you saw Jiung standing there, looking a bit nervous. You opened the door with a curious smile.

“Hey, Jiung. What’s up?” you asked, noticing his slight hesitation as he shifted from foot to foot.

He took a breath and then, in a slightly rushed tone, asked, “Would you… maybe want to go out with me sometime? Like… on a date?”

Surprised, you paused, caught off guard. After a moment’s thought, you gave him a small smile. “I’ll think about it, Jiung.”

His face lit up, and he nodded quickly. “Great! I’ll, uh, let you think it over.” He flashed you a happy grin before heading down the hallway, glancing back once with a wave as he disappeared around the corner.

You closed the door and went back to the couch, feeling a bit dazed from the unexpected moment. But just as you settled down, another knock echoed through the room. With a sigh, you got up again, peering through the peephole. This time, it was Ni-ki.

You opened the door, offering him a polite smile. “Hey, Ni-ki.”

“Hey,” he greeted with a quiet smile of his own, holding up an empty container. “Do you have any salt? I’m all out.”

“Sure, come on in,” you said, motioning for him to step inside. You made your way to the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets for the salt shaker.

Ni-ki’s eyes wandered over to the TV screen, and when you came back to hand him the salt, he glanced over at you with interest. “You watch this show too?” he asked, his tone holding a hint of excitement. “It’s one of my favorites.”

Your eyes lit up, a smile forming as you looked at him. “Really? I just started watching it recently.”

He nodded, his eyes returning to the screen. “Yeah, I’ve been following it since the start. It really keeps you on edge.”

Before you realized it, you were both seated on the couch, completely immersed in the show. The storyline unfolded, and the detective chased after his best friend—the killer—through a dark, shadowed warehouse. Each twist and turn of the chase drew you both in, leaning closer as the suspense built.

It wasn’t until the episode ended that you noticed how comfortable the room had become, Ni-ki looked at you, his usual reserve softened.

“That was… intense,” you said, breaking the silence.

Ni-ki’s eyes lingered on you, a quiet glint in his gaze. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice softer than usual. “But it’s always better watching with someone who’s just as into it.”

Eventually, sleepless night caught up with you, and your eyelids grew heavy. As you fought to stay awake, your head slowly tilted, finally coming to rest on Ni-ki’s shoulder. You let out a soft sigh, and the tension in your body eased as sleep washed over you.

Ni-ki stilled, watching you as you drifted off, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Gently, he shifted so you were more comfortable against him, his arm wrapping subtly around you to hold you steady. He stayed like that for a long moment, his gaze lingering on your peaceful expression, feeling your warmth beside him.

When he was sure you were fully asleep, his hand moved slowly, almost hesitantly, to brush against your cheek, tracing a light line along the edge of your jaw with the tip of his finger. The dim light cast soft shadows across your face, and he watched, entranced, as his fingertip moved along your skin.

He leaned in, his face mere inches from yours, his breath warm and steady as he stayed close, hovering. His gaze flickered to your slightly parted lips, and for a second, his own breath hitched. The air was thick with an unspoken closeness, and he held that position, suspended between a lingering ache and restraint.

Carefully, he leaned back, settling you more comfortably against him, his hand resting softly on your shoulder as he continued to watch over you, his fingers curling protectively around you.

Ni-ki’s gaze darkened as he continued to watch you, his fingers resting softly on your shoulder. His eyes traced the gentle curve of your neck, and an almost imperceptible smile crossed his lips. He leaned in, his breath warm against your skin as he murmured softly, almost to himself, “Red would look good on you.”

His fingers slid up, tracing the line of your neck. His grip tightened ever so slightly, lingering just enough to feel your pulse under his fingertips, steady and unknowing. He let out a slow breath, as if grounding himself, as his thumb brushed softly against the side of your throat.

For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, caught between something intense and something careful, like he was savoring this quiet moment he had with you. After a second, his fingers relaxed, trailing back down your shoulder in a gentle motion, his gaze softening. He drew in a slow breath and finally leaned back, keeping you close but releasing the subtle tension in his touch.

He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have you truly his, for you to look up at him with trust, completely unaware of the thoughts running through his mind. For now, though, he was content to simply stay by your side, holding you in the quiet of the night.

Ni-ki rose slowly, careful not to disturb you as he scooped you up in his arms. You stirred, blinking sleepily as he carried you toward the bedroom, but he gently hushed you, his voice soft and reassuring. "Shh… just sleep." You let out a quiet hum, drifting back into sleep as he placed you on the bed, pulling the blanket over you.

Once you were settled, he crouched beside the bed, his gaze intense as he took you in, his arms resting on the mattress as he leaned closer. Slowly, his hand reached out, thumb brushing gently over your bottom lip, tracing its softness, almost reverent. He caught himself lingering, letting his fingers ghost across your cheek, as if memorizing every line and curve of your face.

With you here, looking so serene, he could almost pretend to feel peace, like a balm against the darkness that usually gripped him. There was something about you—something that stilled the turbulence in his mind, turning the razor-edged thoughts of violence into something softer, more possessive. Yet, deep down, he knew: if you ever found out who he truly was, you would recoil, flee, maybe even scream. The thought unsettled him. And he couldn’t allow it.

But that was fine, he decided, his hand lingering on your cheek. You would be his. No matter what it took, he would find a way to make you understand, to make you stay, even if he had to teach you how to love him. If it came to that, he could handle it. He would mold you to be his, through your resistance, your fear—until all that was left was the love he craved from you.

Leaning forward, he whispered, almost to himself, "You'll come to love me… just wait."

Ni-ki stood for a long moment at your bedside, watching as you slept, peaceful and unaware of the thoughts circling in his mind. Finally, he straightened, brushing his fingers over the blanket one last time before he slipped out of the room. Quietly, he closed the door behind him, sealing you safely inside as he moved toward his own room.

Once there, he pulled a black bag from beneath his bed, checking its contents with practiced ease. With a final look around, he slung it over his shoulder and left the apartment, locking the door behind him. Outside, the air was cool, and the streets were veiled in a soft hush of night, faintly lit by scattered streetlights.

He walked with a steady stride, blending into the shadows as if they welcomed him. His mind was calm, sharp, each step carrying him forward with a chilling sense of purpose. There was nothing to fear out here. No shadows lurking around corners or dangers in the quiet alleys.

Why would he worry?

--

Days passed, and you started noticing that Jiung seemed increasingly interested in following up on his offer for a date. Every time you ran into him, he would smile a bit wider, his eyes hopeful as he casually asked if you’d made up your mind. His persistence was endearing, and yet… your answer was still unsure, hovering in your mind.

Meanwhile, your time with Ni-ki only grew, filling the quiet corners of your routine with an unexpected ease. He was becoming a fixture in your days, almost as though he’d always been there. You’d find him at your door some evenings, asking if he could join you for whatever crime show you were watching, his attention firmly on you as the plot unraveled on the screen.

He rarely shared much about himself, but you didn’t mind. It felt natural, sitting side by side, sometimes letting your head rest on his shoulder as you got lost in the suspense. Occasionally, he would make small comments on the case, his voice low, adding details you hadn’t noticed.

Then there were the times you’d spend in his apartment, which felt equally familiar now. You’d find yourself leaning over his shoulder, challenging him in games as he let out a soft laugh, relaxed and genuinely happy.

Laughter filled Ni-ki’s room as you clutched the game controller, triumphantly beating him for the third time in a row. Ni-ki groaned, his face caught between frustration and amusement as he asked, “How do you keep winning? Seriously!”

You shrugged, smirking as you teased, “Maybe you’re just not as good as you think.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not one to take the defeat so easily, and before you knew it, he lunged at you in a playful attack. His hands found your sides, mercilessly tickling you as you shrieked, squirming to escape his grip.

“Ni-ki—stop!” you managed between laughs, trying to push him off, but he only grinned, enjoying his victory as he held you down on the bed. Your laughter eventually softened, leaving a warm silence between you as the two of you lay there, his face hovering close to yours.

His breathing slowed, and as he gazed at you, the teasing glint in his eyes softened into something deeper. You could feel your heartbeat quicken as his gaze drifted down to your lips, and without a word, you found yourself leaning into the moment, mirroring his movement.

Slowly, his lips met yours, gentle and cautious at first, as though testing the connection. But the kiss quickly grew deeper, more intense, stealing the air from your lungs as you returned it, feeling a sense of warmth and closeness you hadn’t expected. For a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fall away.

To Ni-ki, this was both heaven and torment. Having you so close, feeling the softness of your lips against his—it was everything he’d wanted and yet, in some ways, so agonizingly out of reach. He ached for more, for all of you, yet held himself back, savoring every second with a longing that made his heart pound.

The kiss lingered, soft yet fervent, as if neither of you wanted to pull away. When you finally did, it was only because you both needed to catch your breath, your faces still close, foreheads nearly touching as you shared a quiet smile.

Ni-ki’s hand brushed along your cheek, his thumb tracing soft circles as he looked at you, a warmth in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. The tension between you was thick, yet comfortable, like something long-awaited that had finally fallen into place.

“Didn’t expect that, did you?” he murmured, his voice a soft tease, though you could hear the tremor of excitement there.

You shook your head, a bit breathless, your own heart still racing. “No… but I’m not complaining.”

His lips curled into a smile. “Good.”

Without waiting, Ni-ki leaned in, closing the small gap between you once more. His lips met yours with a deeper, more assured warmth, as if he was savoring each second, each soft touch.

This kiss was different—more intense, more deliberate, and you found yourself melting into him, your arms slipping around his neck to pull him closer. He responded eagerly, his hand moving to rest on your waist, holding you against him as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.

Just as the kiss deepened, your phone buzzed, cutting through the perfect moment. Reluctantly, you pulled back, a bit breathless, and glanced at the screen. It was your boss.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you whispered, and Ni-ki nodded, though you noticed a faint flicker of annoyance in his eyes.

Answering the call, you heard your boss’s familiar voice sounding slightly frantic. “Hey, sorry to call last minute, but we’re understaffed tonight. Any chance you could come in for a bit?”

You hesitated, ready to turn him down, but then he added, “I’ll pay double for the overtime.”

You bit your lip, considering it. Rent was due soon, and you were already running a little behind. “Alright,” you finally said with a sigh. “I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

Ending the call, you looked at Ni-ki apologetically. “I have to go to work… They’re understaffed.”

He shrugged, though you sensed the tension just beneath his relaxed expression. “No worries. We’ll pick this up another time.”

With a quick goodbye, you grabbed your bag, left the apartment, and hurried down the stairs, thinking about the night ahead. You didn’t see the way Ni-ki’s expression hardened the moment you were gone, his eyes narrowing at the door, simmering with anger at the interruption.

Your shift stretched far longer than expected, the minutes slipping by until hours had passed. By the time you finally finished work, the streets were dark, only dim streetlights casting long shadows over the quiet city. Your fingers clenched tightly around your keys, each small noise setting your nerves on edge. As you walked past a dark alleyway, a faint, agonized moan caught your attention. You paused, heart pounding as you peered into the murky darkness. Shadows seemed to shift against the brick walls, making you question if your mind was simply playing tricks.

Then, abruptly, a shoe flew out of the darkness and landed at your feet. The pale glow of the nearby streetlight barely illuminated it, but it was unmistakably there, lying askew on the cold pavement. You froze, glancing around, but the street was empty. No one else was around.

Taking a steadying breath, you stepped into the alley, clutching your keys with knuckles white. As you walked past the shoe, each step carried you deeper into the shadows, your breath shallow with dread. Just a few paces in, you saw it.

There, sprawled across the grimy ground, lay Jiung, his skin pale, eyes half-lidded with pain. Blood soaked his shirt, dark and spreading from multiple stab wounds across his abdomen. His breaths came in shallow, desperate gasps.

“Jiung…” you whispered, dropping to your knees beside him, voice shaking with panic as you scrambled to pull out your phone. You pressed one hand against his wounds, trying to staunch the bleeding, feeling the warmth of his blood seeping through your fingers.

“I’ll call for help,” you assured him, barely holding back tears as you dialed for an ambulance with a trembling hand.

But then, a chilling sensation ran down your spine. You felt the weight of a presence behind you, like ice settling in your veins. Slowly, you looked over your shoulder—and saw a tall shadow standing at the entrance to the alleyway. The streetlight behind them cast their face into darkness, but there was something menacing in their stance, the way they loomed over you and Jiung.

In a flash of movement, Jiung pushed himself up with a guttural scream, lunging toward the figure despite his injuries. “Run!” he cried, voice raspy with desperation as he collided with the attacker, buying you precious seconds to escape.

Heart hammering, you didn’t waste a moment. You turned and sprinted out of the alley, Jiung’s shout echoing in your ears. You didn’t dare look back, but the pounding of footsteps behind you pushed you faster as you bolted down the street, breath catching in your throat.

“Help!” you screamed, hoping, praying someone would hear. But the quiet streets remained desolate, and all you could do was keep running as the footsteps behind you grew closer, each one filling you with a terror you’d never known before.

The sound of heavy footsteps grew louder, and before you could take another step, a gloved hand shot out from behind you, silencing your scream as another arm snaked around your torso, pinning your arms to your sides. Panic surged through you, and you squirmed, trying to break free, but his grip was iron, unyielding.

Then you felt the cold press of a knife’s edge against your throat, sharp and threatening, making your breath hitch as fear flooded your veins.

"Where are you running off to in such a hurry, doll?" deep, gravelly voice purred in your ear. The words sent a shiver of fear racing down your spine. His breath was hot against your skin as he held you impossibly close, his grip tightening.

You froze, every nerve paralyzed in his grip as he kept you close, his body pressing against yours to ensure you couldn’t break away. The gloved hand over your mouth stifled any sound, leaving you helpless, trapped in his grasp.

"That's it," he continued, his voice almost a whisper but laced with malice, "be a good girl and don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

You held your breath, every muscle tensed, but he only chuckled, his tone shifting to something almost playful, his lips inches from your ear. “You know… you could’ve ignored it, kept on walking home like a smart little thing.” He tilted his head, sounding almost regretful, though the teasing edge to his words betrayed his satisfaction. “But no, you just had to be the hero. Couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

He let out a soft, taunting hum, as though savoring the moment. “Admit it,” he said, his tone slipping into something disturbingly flirty, almost tender. "You liked the thrill, didn’t you? The danger of getting a little too close…”

Your mind raced, desperately searching for some way to escape, but his grip tightened, pressing the blade just a fraction closer, enough to remind you how easily he could hurt you.

Summoning every ounce of courage, you jerked your head back, surprising him for an instant as you managed to shift just enough for your foot to slam down on his. He grunted, his hold loosening slightly, and you seized the opportunity, twisting out of his grasp as you stumbled forward, barely managing to break free.

With adrenaline surging, you started to run again, praying you could get far enough before he caught up once more.

Your heart raced as you stumbled onto the open street, glancing back to see the shadowy figure still gaining on you. But just as hope seemed to fade, you spotted two police officers rounding a corner up ahead. Relief surged through you, and you screamed, “Help! He’s right behind me!”

Hearing the desperation in your voice, both officers turned immediately. At the sight of them, your pursuer halted, cursed under his breath, and bolted in the opposite direction. One officer shot a quick look your way before sprinting down the street after him, while the other rushed to your side, her eyes filled with concern as she gently placed a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” she reassured, keeping her voice calm. “Take deep breaths for me, alright? Tell me what happened.”

Gasping for air, you struggled to relay what had occurred. “There’s… there’s a victim in the alleyway,” you managed between breaths. “He’s hurt badly… please, he needs help.”

The officer’s expression turned grim as she quickly radioed the situation, calling for another police unit and an ambulance to head to the location immediately. She stayed with you, grounding you as you both waited, her presence steady and comforting.

Moments later, her radio crackled to life, and a voice came through. “We’ve located the victim. Ambulance is on the way—he’s alive. Repeat, the victim is alive and en route to the hospital.”

A wave of relief washed over you at the news. Jiung was still alive. The weight of it hit you, and a smile of sheer gratitude flickered on your face, even as exhaustion threatened to pull you under.

Not long after, the other officer returned, breathing heavily, a frustrated look on his face. “I lost him,” he admitted, shaking his head. “He knew these streets too well… slipped into a maze of alleys. But we’ll catch him.”

The officer looked at you with a soft, reassuring gaze. “Would you be willing to come down to the station and give a witness report?”

You nodded, feeling a sense of duty but also the weight of the night’s events. They guided you into the police cruiser, and the short drive to the station was filled with a comforting silence. Once there, you filled out the report, recounting every detail you could remember. When it was over, the officer who had helped you before offered to drive you home.

You thanked her sincerely as you stepped out of the car in front of your building, exhaustion tugging at every limb. “Thank you… for everything,” you said, meeting her kind gaze.

“No need to thank me; just take care of yourself. Call if you remember anything else.”

You nodded, feeling the night’s intensity fade as you finally stepped into the familiar, quiet space of your apartment. You took a deep breath and pulled out your phone, sending Jiung a message, asking him to let you know as soon as he was well enough to reply.

After a hot shower, you felt slightly more grounded. You sat on the couch, flipping through channels until a horror movie caught your eye. Something about the way the killer on-screen moved in relentless pursuit of his victim made your pulse quicken. You’d just been in a scene like this, and yet… as you watched the screen, a dark thrill crept into your thoughts.

You shifted uncomfortably as the killer on-screen cornered his next victim, remembering what it felt like to be hunted down, to feel the darkness creeping in, to hear that voice whispering things you hadn’t wanted to admit. The words echoed in your mind—“Admit it. You like this. You like the fear.” You shook your head, trying to push the thoughts away, but it was like they had a grip on you now. You couldn’t help but admit that there was something unsettlingly captivating about the chase, about the fear.

You tried to push the unsettling thoughts away—tried to focus on the killer on the screen, how methodical and cold they were, but the feeling of being hunted, being chased, was all too real. The way the killer's footsteps echoed in the victim’s ears, how their every breath seemed to be more desperate, more frantic—the adrenaline that had coursed through you earlier in the night crept back up, making your pulse quicken.

Your eyes slowly drifted to the door. The thought of being alone here, in the dark, made your heart race. You wrapped your arms around your knees, pulling them tightly to your chest.

Suddenly, the phone buzzed in your pocket, snapping you out of your trance. You pulled it out quickly, half-expecting the worst, but it was just a message from Jiung.

“I’m okay. I made it through surgery, just need some rest. Thanks for being there tonight. I owe you one.”

A flood of relief rushed over you, and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You typed back quickly, “I’m glad you’re okay. Take care of yourself. I’m here if you need anything.” It wasn’t much, but it felt like the right thing to say.

You dropped your phone beside you on the couch, and the movie continued to play in the background, but now you couldn’t stop thinking about the killer—the way they moved with such confidence, with such control. You wondered if you had been a part of some twisted game, a part of something you couldn’t even begin to understand.

You rubbed your eyes, feeling exhaustion from the long day, but the unease wouldn’t let go. Maybe you didn’t need to be scared. Maybe it was just a nightmare that you’d wake up from. But deep down, you knew that something about tonight had changed you. It wasn’t just the danger, but the feeling of the chase, the adrenaline, and the way you couldn’t help but wonder if you'd somehow enjoyed it.

The thought made you shiver, but there was no denying it. And in that moment, as you sat there, you couldn’t help but think—maybe you’d never be the same again.

The familiar sound of Ni-ki’s door opening caused a shiver to run down your spine. It was a noise you’d come to recognize, and as soon as you heard it, your body stiffened, a strange feeling pulling at your chest. You couldn’t explain it, but it was as if something in you needed him, needed to feel his presence.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was just the nerves from the night still lingering, but then you felt that push—an overwhelming urge to reach out. Without fully thinking it through, you grabbed your phone and sent a quick message to him: "Can you come over?"

The ping came almost instantly from next door, and for a moment, all you could hear was the sound of your heartbeat, loud in your ears. Then, it fell quiet again.

You stared at your screen, watching the message go from "Sent" to "Read." Your heart beat a little faster, your pulse quickening in anticipation.

Then the sound of footsteps. Heavy and deliberate. You watched the time, and in the span of a few seconds, Ni-ki's door opened, then closed softly. You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what was about to happen.

There were two sharp knocks on your door, and your stomach fluttered.

You opened it quickly, not wanting to second-guess yourself. The moment the door cracked, you rushed forward, pulling him into a tight hug. His warmth and the familiar scent of him enveloped you, and you couldn’t help but hold on a little tighter than you meant to.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low but filled with concern.

His body was solid against yours, his warmth comforting in the wake of everything that had happened. But after a few moments, his hands gently cupped your shoulders, pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes scanning your face with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

“What happened?” he asked softly, his voice low, the tenderness in his words making your heart ache a little.

You didn’t answer immediately, not wanting to let go of him just yet. You squeezed your eyes shut and clung to him for a little longer, trying to steady yourself. When you finally opened your eyes, you pulled away just enough to hold him at arm’s length, feeling that strange mix of relief and uncertainty washing over you. You could feel the flutter of anxiety in your stomach, but you knew you had to say something.

"Can we sit down?" you asked, your voice soft and almost pleading, your fingers still gripping his shirt tightly. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, the lingering fear from earlier making it difficult to fully focus on anything other than the sound of your own heartbeat.

Without a word, Ni-ki nodded and allowed you to lead him to the couch. As you both sat down, you could feel him sitting closer than usual, his presence a constant comfort, but his eyes were still searching your face. It made you feel exposed, like there was something about you he could see, something you were trying to hide.

You turned to face him, the weight of everything rushing back now that you had a moment to think. “There was... there was someone in the alley. I—" you stammered, suddenly feeling the weight of the night’s events pushing down on you. You took a deep breath, gathering your words. "I found Jiung... he was... he was stabbed. And then..." Your voice broke for a second as you swallowed hard, the image of Jiung on the ground, bleeding, still so fresh in your mind.

Ni-ki’s eyes didn’t leave you, and his gaze softened, his hand reaching out instinctively to touch yours. His thumb gently traced your knuckles, the touch grounding you. He didn’t interrupt you, just silently waiting for you to finish, allowing you to speak in your own time.

"And then I—" You felt yourself faltering, but you pushed through. "I heard him. The person. He... he came after me." The memory of his grip, the way he whispered to you, the coldness of the blade against your throat, made your chest tighten. You shuddered involuntarily, your hands tightening around Ni-ki’s.

“But then the police came. They helped me. And Jiung... he’s alive.” Your voice shook with relief, but there was still something raw in your tone. “But I couldn’t shake it, Ni-ki. I keep thinking about it, feeling like he’s still out there.”

Ni-ki’s jaw tightened as he listened, his eyes focused on you with an intensity that made you feel both comforted and exposed. He didn’t speak for a moment, just leaned closer, his face softening. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said quietly.

You nodded slowly, trying to shake the images of the night from your mind. You had always found it hard to be vulnerable, but with Ni-ki, it was easier to just let go of the walls.

“Thank you for coming,” you murmured, looking up at him. "I... I needed someone. And I didn’t know who else to call."

Ni-ki smiled, though it was laced with something deeper—something you couldn’t quite place. His hand gently squeezed yours. “I’ll be here as long as you want me to be.”

His words melted some of the tension still lingering in your chest, and for a brief moment, you felt like you could breathe easier. You leaned back into the couch, your body relaxing just a fraction, but you didn’t let go of his hand.

You picked up the remote from the side table and hit play on the movie you’d paused earlier. The flickering of the TV screen and the eerie music of the horror film filled the silence, but it didn’t feel as suffocating now that Ni-ki was here with you.

As the movie played on, the tension in the room grew, thickening with every chase scene. You could feel your body reacting even before the first footstep of the pursuer echoed across the screen. Your eyes narrowed in, focused entirely on the characters as the camera swiveled between the running victim and the shadowed killer. Every time the chase escalated, your breath would hitch, your shoulders tightening with the anticipation of what was to come next.

When the killer finally caught up to the victim, you couldn’t help but shiver. The chase scenes felt too real, too close to what you had experienced just hours ago. The grip of the knife, the feeling of running, your breath coming faster as you tried to escape—it all flooded back in an instant, and your body involuntarily tensed. You clenched your fists in your lap, trying to steady yourself as the screen flickered with flashes of horror.

Unbeknownst to you, Ni-ki was watching intently, his eyes trained on your every reaction. He could see how your breath quickened, how your body stiffened with each passing moment, how the fear from the movie bled into your own memories. The way your hands trembled slightly, the way you seemed to draw closer to him when the killer gained on the victim.

His gaze deepened with satisfaction. He could see how easily the thrill of the chase consumed you. How, despite the terror, there was something almost addictive about it—the danger, the vulnerability, the adrenaline. And it stirred something inside of him, a dark thought that he couldn’t ignore.

He watched you carefully, a small, pleased smile tugging at the corner of his lips as you flinched at every tense moment. He knew this feeling—he could feel it, too. The hunt, the chase, the thrill of bringing someone to the edge of fear. You’d experienced it in the alley, running from him, and now, you were reliving it through the film. But he could tell there was more to you than just fear. You liked it. You liked the adrenaline.

Ni-ki’s hand slowly shifted towards you, resting just near your knee, not touching yet, but close enough to sense your tension. His thumb twitched, as if he could feel the currents of your unease, of your suppressed excitement. He knew you weren’t just scared. You were drawn to it, to the rush of being pursued, to the danger.

He was sure of it now—he could make you understand. He could shape you, mold you to match his world. All he had to do was push you far enough, make you see the thrill the way he did. He’d show you how to embrace it, how to live for the chase, to revel in the fear, to become a part of it—just like him.

And no one would stand in his way.

Not Jiung. Not anyone.

He’d take care of the loose ends soon enough, with that same meticulous care. Just as he had with so many others. But you—you—would be his masterpiece. He would make sure of it.

His fingers brushed lightly against your leg, just enough to make you flinch, but not enough to pull you out of the movie. And as the next chase scene unfolded on the screen, Ni-ki smiled to himself, savoring the moment.

He could tell you were deep in your thoughts, processing the fear, but also something else—something beneath the surface. You were on edge, yet you didn’t pull away. You were still here, still sitting with him. That pleased him more than you could know.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze softening as he took in the way you gripped the couch, the way your body tensed with every dramatic moment. He noticed the little things—how you took a sharp breath when the victim almost got caught, how your eyes widened in brief anticipation, but you didn’t look away.

“You okay?” Ni-ki asked casually, breaking the silence, his voice soft yet filled with a certain curiosity. His tone seemed almost too casual for what he was observing, but it made you snap back to reality.

You nodded quickly, forcing a small, reassuring smile, though the flicker of unease still danced in your eyes. “Yeah, just… wasn’t expecting a movie like this.”

He chuckled, a low sound, and leaned back against the couch, stretching his legs out in front of him. “I get it,” he said, the words carrying a gentle teasing quality. “But you seem to be handling it well.”

You looked over at him, unsure of what he meant, but his eyes were fixed on the screen now, and you couldn't quite read his expression.

"Thanks for staying," you said quietly, the words slipping out before you could think to stop them.

“Of course," he replied, glancing at you briefly, his smile soft. "I’m not going anywhere.”

By the time the movie ended, the adrenaline had faded, and the room felt quieter, and you found yourself leaning back into the couch, your body finally starting to relax.

Ni-ki turned to you, his expression unreadable but his presence still comforting. “Feel better?”

You nodded, your smile small but genuine. “Yeah, I do. Thanks for being here."

He gave a small nod, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he looked away. "Anytime," he said softly, the words hanging in the air between you.

--

The sunlight filtered softly through the blinds as you slowly awoke, groggily blinking as you tried to get your bearings. The familiar warmth of the couch wrapped around you, but as your eyes adjusted, you realized that the person who had kept you company the night before—Ni-ki—was no longer beside you. The spot on the couch where he’d been was empty, and the space next to you felt cold in comparison.

You groaned, sitting up and stretching. You must've dozed off again after the movie had ended. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep until you woke up now, all tangled in the blanket.

Shaking off the remnants of sleep, you stood up, ran through your usual morning routine, and gathered your things. You quickly dressed, brushed your hair, and splashed some water on your face to wake yourself up more fully. There was a lot to do today.

After grabbing a quick bite, you made your way to the hospital. Jiung had been transferred there after the attack, and you were eager to see how he was doing. As soon as you entered his room, you saw him sitting up in bed, looking far better than you expected after the ordeal.

He smiled weakly when he saw you, though there was still a tinge of pain in his eyes. “Hey, you came. I’m so glad to see you.”

You smiled back, your heart lightening at the sight of him doing so much better. “Of course, Jiung. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he replied, shifting to make himself more comfortable. “The doctors said I’ll be fine to go home in a couple of days. Just need to rest a bit more.”

“That’s great news,” you said, relieved. You sat down beside his bed, glad to see he was recovering well.

Jiung paused, looking at you with an almost hesitant expression. “Hey, I was thinking… once I’m out of here, maybe we could go grab a coffee or something? I know you are still thinking.”

You hesitated, glancing down at your hands for a moment. It was clear that Jiung had more than just friendship in mind, and you didn’t want to hurt him. But you also needed to be honest with him.

“Jiung…” you started softly, meeting his eyes. “I think you’re great, but I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and I see you as a friend. I’m actually interested in someone else.”

His face softened, but there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes. He gave a small nod, though, his smile never quite fading. “I understand. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a girlfriend.”

You gave him a gentle smile in return, feeling a pang of guilt, but also relief at having been honest with him. “Thank you for understanding, Jiung. You’re a really good person, and I’m glad we’re friends.”

“I’m glad we’re friends, too,” he said, his voice steady despite the slight sadness in it. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will. And you get better, alright?” you replied, giving him a small wave as you stood up to leave.

After your visit, you made your way to work, your thoughts still lingering on the conversation with Jiung. As much as it had been the right thing to do, it didn’t make it any easier. You focused on your tasks at work, trying to push the lingering thoughts aside and focus on the tasks at hand. It was a long shift, but at least it gave you a break from the emotional weight of everything that had happened lately.

The evening had crept up on you faster than you expected. The time spent with your friends at the mall was a welcome distraction, but as the sky darkened, the familiar unease from earlier in the week began to creep back. You said your goodbyes, as they headed in different directions, and made your way to your car, feeling the weight of the day on your shoulders.

You climbed into your car, started the engine, and drove home, your mind preoccupied. The streets were relatively quiet, the rush of the city settling down as night enveloped everything in shadows. A part of you felt relieved to be heading back to your apartment, but another part felt uneasy. The events of the past few days—the attack on Jiung, the strange tension with Ni-ki—lingered in your thoughts, gnawing at the back of your mind.

Once you parked your car and grabbed your shopping bag from the back seat, you stepped out, pulling the door shut with a soft click. The air was crisp, a cool breeze brushing against your face as you locked the car and started walking toward your apartment. The familiar sounds of the street felt oddly distant, almost muffled by the growing darkness.

Your senses felt more alert than usual, and you quickened your pace, the soft click of your shoes against the pavement echoing in the quiet evening. Something about tonight felt off, the air thick with an unspoken tension that you couldn’t quite place. Every shadow seemed to stretch longer, every flicker of movement felt like a warning.

You glanced over your shoulder, but the street behind you remained empty. Still, the unease gnawed at you.

Maybe it’s nothing, you thought to yourself, trying to shake off the feeling, but it didn’t help. You picked up your pace again, hands clutching your shopping bag a little tighter. The streetlights above flickered intermittently, casting long shadows across the pavement.

As you neared your apartment building, you paused for just a second, glancing up at your door. Everything appeared normal, yet the feeling of being watched was inescapable. You exhaled slowly, trying to calm your racing heart, and told yourself it was just your mind playing tricks.

But then you heard something.

A sound behind you. A shuffle of footsteps.

Your head snapped around, but the street was still empty. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you stood there for a moment, frozen in place. The wind rustled the leaves nearby, but that was the only noise in the air.

You couldn’t shake the feeling of being followed.

Just get inside, you urged yourself, turning back toward the door of your building. You fumbled with your keys, your fingers cold and unsteady as you slid the key into the lock. The sound of footsteps drew closer, and just as you pushed the door open, a voice, low and unfamiliar, echoed from behind you.

“You’re not alone tonight.”

Your heart stopped. The hairs on your neck prickled with fear.

Before you could turn around, a gloved hand rested against the door, pushing it slightly back into its frame, and you were pulled backward.

The moment you were pulled into the alleyway, the cold grip of fear clamped down on your chest. You were yanked roughly, stumbling over your own feet, and before you could even think to scream, a gloved hand pressed tightly over your mouth, stifling any sound. The sharp edge of a knife was placed at your throat, just enough to make you feel the cold metal against your skin, but not yet enough to break it.

"You're lucky I let you live after you interfered last time," the man muttered, his voice low and cold, as if every word was carefully measured. "But… I guess I’ll forgive you. After all, it’s not your fault you got in the way. Just another mistake. But don’t worry, I’ll finish what I started."

He pressed the knife a little harder into your side, making you wince, and his voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. "You won’t stop me this time."

Your eyes darted to the alley’s entrance, and you tried to struggle against his grip, but his hand on your mouth only tightened, and the blade felt like it could pierce your skin with the slightest movement. Panic surged through you, but before you could react further, you heard something.

Footsteps. The faint sound of boots hitting pavement.

You froze.

The man must have heard it too, because his voice turned sharp, a warning whisper. "Stay quiet," he hissed. "If you make a sound, I’ll finish it right here."

Your breath caught in your throat as three police officers walked into view, their figures passing by the alley’s opening. The sounds of their conversation blended with the quiet night, but they didn’t seem to notice the two of you hidden in the shadows.

Your heart hammered in your chest as they came closer, their uniforms barely visible in the low light, the soft murmur of their voices floating into the alley. You dared not move a muscle, barely able to breathe, as you felt the pressure of the knife against your side.

The man’s grip on you tightened, forcing you to stand still, and you could feel the pulse of fear racing through your veins. Your eyes stayed locked on the officers, willing them to see you, to help, but they kept walking past without a second glance. Their conversation faded, and just like that, they were gone, leaving nothing but silence behind.

The man’s grip on you was relentless, pressing you deeper into the shadows. But in that brief, fleeting moment, you found your opening.

His hold slackened just enough, his focus momentarily distracted by the fading sound of the officers’ footsteps. His attention turned slightly to make sure they had truly gone, just long enough for you to summon the courage to move.

With a burst of adrenaline, you jerked your body to the side, slipping out of his grasp. Your heart pounded in your ears as you darted forward, legs propelling you as fast as they could carry you. The alley seemed to stretch endlessly in front of you, and with every step, the fear that gripped your chest pushed you further, faster.

You didn’t look back—couldn’t afford to—but you heard the sound of his footsteps pounding behind you, growing louder. He was coming after you. His breath was ragged, but there was no mercy in his pursuit, only the promise of violence. The sound of his pursuit echoed down the narrow alley, each step closer to your heels making your breath come quicker, your legs feel weaker.

You turned a corner, hoping to lose him, but the streets around you were eerily empty, void of the people you so desperately needed. The streetlights flickered weakly, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly, making you feel as though the darkness was swallowing you whole.

There was no one. No one to help you. No one to witness your struggle.

You tried to scream, but your voice was caught in your throat, choking on your fear. Every alley you passed was as desolate as the last, every street devoid of life. The city seemed to hold its breath as you ran, its silence mocking your desperate escape.

Your legs burned, your lungs screamed for air, but you didn’t dare stop. If you did, he would catch you. And the thought of what he would do made your skin crawl, your heart race even faster.

But then, you heard it. His footsteps were louder now, more insistent. He was gaining on you. The realization hit you like a wave—you weren’t going to outrun him.

Desperation set in as you searched for any place to hide, any escape, but the streets stretched on endlessly, the buildings looming on either side like dark sentinels. The only sound that filled the air was your frantic breathing and the thudding of your own heartbeat.

You had to think. You had to survive.

You pushed yourself harder, heart hammering in your chest as you darted through another narrow alley. Desperation clawed at your throat, but somehow, you found an abandoned dumpster in the corner of the alley, its shadow deep and offering a small sliver of cover.

With trembling hands, you crouched behind it, pulling your legs close to your chest, trying to quiet your frantic breathing. You held your breath, praying that he wouldn’t hear you or see you. The night felt suffocating, the dark streets now your only allies.

You pressed yourself against the cold, gritty wall of the alley, the rough surface scraping your skin as you slowly peeked out, just enough to see him.

The man was standing a few feet away, his head shifting left and right, scanning the area. He was looking for you—searching for you, and every passing moment felt like an eternity. The way he moved, his body tense, the way his eyes narrowed behind the mask, told you that he was intent on finding you.

He was tall, lean, and wore a baggy jacket with the hood pulled low over his head, casting his features in shadow. His jeans hung loosely around his waist, the fabric almost swallowing his legs. A mask covered his mouth, hiding his expression, but you could see the sharpness of his eyes, cold and calculating as they swept over the alley.

You held your breath again, not daring to move a muscle. The air felt thick, and the sound of his footsteps seemed impossibly loud as he stepped closer to where you were hiding. You could hear him muttering under his breath, a low, almost inaudible grumble of frustration as he searched. He was so close now, standing right in the spot where you had just been moments before.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you forced yourself to stay still, not even daring to blink. If you moved, if he saw you… you didn’t want to think about what would happen. The fear that gripped your throat made it hard to breathe, but you didn’t dare exhale too loudly.

The man stepped closer again, his body tensing, clearly aware that you were near. You could see the muscles in his arms flexing beneath the fabric of his jacket, his hands twitching near the knife in his pocket. His breathing was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring the hunt.

You swallowed hard, your entire body on edge. It felt like the world had stopped, the only thing in motion was him, his every movement calculated, methodical.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, he stepped back, his head turning as if he had sensed something—or maybe it was just the cold night playing tricks on him. His eyes scanned the surrounding area once more, and for a moment, you thought he might give up.

You knew, the moment you moved, he would be on you. You just had to wait, to let him think he’d missed you. Just a little longer, just enough time for you to figure out your next move.

You waited, heart racing, every muscle in your body tensed, when the man who had been stalking you suddenly vanished into the shadows. The air felt thick with suspense, the silence almost deafening as you kept your eyes trained on the dark alleyway, afraid to make a move just yet.

It wasn’t until several minutes later that you finally saw why he’d left. A tall, broad-shouldered man appeared at the mouth of the alleyway, his gait confident and purposeful. You recognized him instantly—the owner of the laundromat a few blocks over. His muscular build and rough demeanor made him hard to miss. He was the type who could take care of himself, the type you’d want by your side if trouble were brewing. He strolled past the alley, seemingly unaware of the danger that had been lurking just moments before.

Taking the opportunity, you slowly began to step out of your hiding place, keeping your movements as quiet and fluid as possible. With the laundromat owner walking ahead, you kept a few steps behind him, grateful for the presence of someone who seemed safe, someone who might be the buffer between you and whatever danger had been stalking you just minutes before.

As you walked, you couldn’t shake the eerie feeling of being watched, that prickling sensation creeping up your spine. Your eyes darted over your shoulder, searching the dark streets. But there was no one. Still, the unsettling feeling lingered like a shadow that wouldn’t let go.

You turned back around and quickened your pace, staying close to the laundromat owner. The walk back to your apartment felt like it took forever. Every turn, every creak in the distance, made your heart pound faster. You refused to look back again, forcing yourself to focus on getting to the safety of your apartment.

The moment you reached your building, you breathed a sigh of relief. The door to the apartment building seemed like a small fortress in that moment. You glanced once more over your shoulder—nothing. But the nagging sensation that something, someone, was still watching you refused to let go.

You hurried up the stairs to your apartment, not bothering to check the other floors, not caring who might be around. Your only priority was getting inside, locking the door, and sealing yourself off from whatever it was that was chasing you—whether it was the man in the alley or the dark thoughts you tried to push away.

As you entered your apartment, you locked the door behind you, breathing heavily. You walked to your room, closing the door with a soft click, and pressed your back against it for a moment. Your hands were trembling as you looked around your room.

But even in the safety of your room, the adrenaline still buzzed in your veins. The fear hadn’t fully dissipated, but something else had settled into the pit of your stomach. It wasn’t just fear anymore—it was an unsettling sense of anticipation. A craving that you couldn’t name, a feeling that made your skin tingle and your breath quicken, not from fear this time, but something else. Something darker.

The feeling grew, gnawing at you from the inside. You pushed it down, told yourself to focus, to get some sleep, to let go of the rush. But deep inside, you knew what it was.

It was the thrill. The addiction to it. The way your body had reacted to the chase, the near escape, the uncertainty of what might happen next.

You shook your head, trying to clear the thoughts, telling yourself to stop. It was a dangerous game to play with such thoughts. But in the back of your mind, a voice whispered that you would never be able to stop craving it.

That night, as you lay in your bed, the exhaustion from the long day weighed heavily on your body. The adrenaline from the events earlier had faded, leaving behind a deep, aching tiredness. You pulled the blanket up to your chin, closed your eyes, and let yourself drift into sleep, unaware of the quiet presence watching you.

Just beyond the wall of your room, in the shadows, Ni-ki stood silently, his eyes fixated on the small hole in the wall that gave him an unobstructed view into your room.

He smiled, a dark, satisfied smile. You had no idea how close he was, no idea how much he had watched you tonight, how every move you made—every step you took—had been carefully observed. Even the small crack in the wall had become an entryway for him to see you, to observe you without you knowing. To see you in your most vulnerable state—sleeping, unaware of the danger just beyond your reach.

His fingers traced the edge of the hole, a slow, deliberate movement as he drank in the sight of you. He admired the way you shifted in your sleep, how your body instinctively curled up for warmth, how your lips parted slightly in a soft breath. He knew you didn’t fully understand the danger, didn’t fully comprehend the way he had been keeping watch over you, but that would change.

You had something inside you. Something that made you crave the chaos, the rush, the thrill of danger. He could see it now. He could feel it in the way your body reacted, in the subtle ways you would flinch at the chase scenes on the TV, in the way your heart raced when you were close to danger. You liked it, didn't you? The feeling of being hunted, the rush of barely escaping.

And that was where he had to be patient. He would guide you. Mold you. Shape you into someone who wouldn’t just run from him. No, you’d be by his side, not as a victim, but as someone who wanted to walk this dangerous path with him. It would take time, but he was willing to wait.

As you slept, Ni-ki’s gaze never left you, his heart thumping in quiet anticipation. It wasn’t just the thrill he enjoyed now. It was you.

You had no idea how impressive you were, how far you'd come in such a short amount of time. The way you escaped from his grasp earlier—it had caught him off guard, in a way. The determination in you, the fight, the way you pushed through the fear. It was something he admired, even if you didn’t fully realize the extent of it.

When you managed to slip away from him, when you outwitted him for those few seconds, it ignited something within him. He was impressed—not many could do that. Not many could slip through his fingers like that, especially when he was so close. It wasn't just the thrill of the chase anymore; it was the way you handled it. You were more than just a victim to him now. You were becoming something else—something he wanted more than anything.

The rush he felt watching you run, the adrenaline pulsing through his veins, was addicting. You had that same fire, that same dangerous allure that kept pulling him back in. Your fear, your resistance, even your attempts at fighting back, had only made him more intrigued, more obsessed.

It was clear now—you were no longer just a victim for him to hunt. You were a challenge. A beautiful, unpredictable challenge. And he loved every moment of it.

His fingers grazed the wall as he leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing with focus. You had nearly escaped him, but in doing so, you’d only stoked the flames of his desire to catch you even more. You were strong, quick, and clever. But more than that, you were unpredictable, and that made you more enticing than any victim he had ever encountered.

He could already picture it—the next time you faced him, the next time you ran, the next time you resisted. He’d be ready for it. And this time, he wouldn’t let you go. Not until you fully understood the game.

With a slow, deliberate breath, he pulled himself away from the wall, slipping quietly out of the shadows, his mind already whirring with plans. He would let you think you had control for now, let you think you were escaping him. But soon enough, he’d pull you back in, closer than ever before.

Ni-ki knew the thrill wasn’t just in the chase anymore. The real excitement would come when you finally stopped running—when you embraced the darkness he offered, when you no longer resisted him. That was when he’d truly have you. And when that time came, you would understand. You would want it too.

But for now, he would let you breathe. He would let you think you were free, even though, deep down, you already belonged to him. The pull would only get stronger.

And when you woke in the morning, when you faced the world again, he would be right there, ready to take the next step in bringing you closer to him. Because this wasn’t just about chasing you anymore—it was about claiming you, piece by piece.

He turned away from the wall and quietly left, leaving the hole behind, but his mind was already set on the next move.

Soon enough, you would be his.

--

You had just opened your door, heading out for class, when you froze in your tracks. The road ahead of you was blocked. Someone had left a shopping bag on the ground right in your path, unmistakably familiar. Your breath caught in your throat as you took a step closer, recognizing the bag immediately.

It was the same one you had dropped during your frantic run from the killer, the one you had barely managed to grab before fleeing for your life. How could it possibly be here?

Your heart raced in your chest, and your hands trembled as you reached down to pick it up. As you did, a cold shiver ran down your spine. The weight of it was just as it had been before, and when you peered inside, you saw everything you’d bought from the mall—a few pieces of clothing, makeup, and the lipstick you’d picked out without much thought.

But there was something else, something more unnerving—there was a note. It was attached to the lipstick. You slowly pulled it out, and the moment your eyes fell on the words, your stomach dropped.

“You forgot your bag, doll. I thought I’d return it to you. I’d love to see this shade on your lips next time we meet.”

The words were simple, but the implications were enough to send a chill down your spine. It felt like the note had been written just for you, as if he knew where you’d be, as if he was keeping track of you.

You glanced around the hallway, but there was no sign of anyone, no figure lurking in the shadows. You were completely alone. Still, the presence of that note, the familiarity of his words, left you feeling exposed, vulnerable. He was closer than you realized. He was always watching.

You quickly stuffed the note back into the bag, clutching it tightly as your heart hammered in your chest. But even as you turned to leave, a sinking feeling gnawed at the back of your mind, knowing that every time you tried to move forward, something—someone—was always just one step behind you.

--

Over the next few days, your life seemed to settle into a new rhythm. You spent more time with Ni-ki, and each moment felt different from anything you had experienced before. His presence was comforting, a sense of protection lingering whenever he was near. It wasn’t just the way he would quietly stand watch over you when you were vulnerable, but the subtle ways he made sure you felt safe.

As much as you tried to shake off the unsettling memories of that night, Ni-ki's company made you feel… reassured. The small crush you had once harbored for him began to grow. His calm demeanor, the way he carried himself with confidence, and the way he seemed to understand everything without saying much—it made him irresistible. It was so easy to let your guard down when he was around, even if a small part of you still questioned things you couldn’t quite understand.

Then Jiung came back from the hospital.

The moment he stepped into your apartment, there was an odd tension in the air. He’d been through a lot, and he looked exhausted, but there was something else in his eyes—something darker, a sharpness you hadn’t noticed before. He wasn’t the same since the attack, and maybe it was the trauma or just his protective nature, but when he saw Ni-ki, his demeanor shifted. He greeted you with a tired smile, but his gaze lingered on Ni-ki longer than it should’ve.

You could sense something was off. He seemed distant, colder, and even though he was happy to see you, his eyes kept flicking to Ni-ki, narrowing as if trying to make sense of something.

Later, as you and Jiung were talking, he dropped a bombshell.

“Have you noticed anything strange about him?” Jiung asked, his voice low, guarded.

“Who?” you asked, slightly confused.

“Ni-ki,” he answered, his eyes not meeting yours but focused on the spot where Ni-ki had been sitting earlier. “I’ve been doing some thinking… about all those murders. The ones that happened around the same time he showed up… It’s too much of a coincidence. And the way he’s always around, watching you—something’s off.”

You laughed softly, trying to ease the tension. “Jiung, you’re being paranoid. Ni-ki’s harmless.”

But Jiung didn’t seem convinced. “I’m serious. You’ve been around him a lot, right? Think about it. His timing, his habits… don’t you think it’s strange?”

You shook your head, brushing off the unease creeping into your chest. “You’re crazy. Ni-ki would never hurt anyone. He’s been nothing but nice to me, Jiung. You’re just imagining things.”

Jiung clenched his fists, frustration evident on his face. “I’m not imagining anything! You need to be careful. He’s dangerous. I’m telling you.”

You met his gaze with an exasperated sigh. “I know you’re worried, but Ni-ki isn’t who you think he is. He’s not the bad guy here.” You stood up, trying to change the subject. “Anyway, I’m sure you’re just tired from everything that happened at the hospital. Maybe you should rest.”

Jiung stared at you for a long moment, searching your face for any sign of doubt. But there was none. Finally, he shook his head, as if giving up on convincing you. “I hope you’re right,” he muttered, but the suspicion still lingered in his eyes.

The rest of the conversation was awkward. Despite your assurances, you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right. Jiung’s words had planted a seed of doubt, but you quickly silenced it. Ni-ki had always been kind to you. He was always there when you needed him. He wasn’t dangerous.

Right?

But as the days passed, and you spent more time with Ni-ki, you began to notice small things that didn’t sit right. There were moments when you would catch him looking at you a little too intently, or when his smile would slip into something darker when you weren’t paying attention. The tension from Jiung’s warning kept gnawing at the back of your mind, but each time you saw Ni-ki’s face—calm, patient, understanding—you pushed it aside.

Jiung had to be wrong. He was just being paranoid.

Still, something inside you felt like it was teetering on the edge of something you couldn’t quite grasp.

A few days later, Jiung showed up at your door again. This time, he was holding a manila folder, and the look on his face was grave.

You didn’t want to invite him in, but he didn’t give you much of a choice. As he pushed the door open, you stepped back, arms crossed defensively.

“I’ve got more to show you,” Jiung said, a mix of urgency and frustration in his voice.

“Jiung, I told you already, I don’t want to talk about this,” you said, trying to shut down the conversation before it even started.

But he was insistent, handing you the folder. “Look at this. You need to see it.”

Reluctantly, you opened the folder, your heart racing as you flipped through the papers. They were mostly copies of reports from the police and CCTV footage, but one image caught your eye: it was a grainy shot of Ni-ki walking alone through the streets at night. The image was taken from a security camera, and it was timestamped around the time of one of the murders.

“Jiung, this is just footage of him walking down the street,” you muttered, trying to brush it off.

But Jiung wasn’t backing down. He pointed to another image, a close-up shot of Ni-ki entering a small shop—a shop you knew he worked at. “This is him going to work, isn’t it? You know it is,” Jiung said, his voice tight with tension. “This is where the pattern starts. He’s always around. Always at the right place at the right time.”

You stared at the photo, your mind spinning. You didn’t want to admit it, but the timing was too coincidental. But still, something about it didn’t sit right with you. Ni-ki had always been kind, gentle, and… well, he was your friend. You had to believe that.

“Jiung, please,” you said, your voice pleading. “This isn’t enough. It’s just… it’s a coincidence, okay? Ni-ki is a good guy. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

Jiung’s face hardened. “You’re just ignoring the facts. I’m telling you, you’re in danger. He’s been involved in every single one of these murders, and you’ve been around him. You need to stay away from him before it’s too late.”

You shook your head, frustration bubbling up. “I’ve had enough of this, Jiung. You need to leave.”

You didn’t give him a chance to argue, firmly holding out the folder with the papers he had given you. “Take your stuff and go.”

Jiung looked at you one last time, eyes filled with a mix of hurt and frustration. “I’m just trying to protect you, you know,” he muttered before taking the folder from your hand and walking out the door.

Once he was gone, you locked it behind him, letting out a long sigh of relief. You couldn’t ignore the gnawing feeling in your stomach, though, the small part of you that wondered if maybe Jiung had been right. But then you thought of Ni-ki—his smile, the way he always looked out for you, the way he’d been there for you time and time again.

No. You couldn’t believe it. Ni-ki wasn’t capable of what Jiung accused him of.

You couldn’t let yourself doubt him.

--

You were curled up on the couch with Ni-ki, the soft glow of the TV lighting up the dark room as you both watched a movie. The atmosphere was comfortable, the kind of quiet warmth that made you feel safe with him.

But then, the sound of your doorbell broke the calm.

You groaned, irritated that the moment was being interrupted. As you stood up and made your way to the door, Ni-ki didn't even glance away from the screen, still lounging back on the couch. You opened the door, not expecting much, only to find Jiung standing there. His presence instantly put you on edge.

"Jiung? What are you—"

Before you could finish your sentence, Jiung’s eyes immediately darted past you to the living room, locking onto Ni-ki. There was a brief moment of silence, and you could practically feel the tension building in the air. His discomfort was palpable, his body stiff as he shifted uneasily on his feet.

“I was wondering if you had any more information on the murder,” Jiung asked, his tone direct but strained. “Anything else you might have forgotten to tell the police? Some small detail that could help?”

You blinked in confusion, then sighed. You were so tired of this. The suspicion, the constant questioning—it felt like a weight you couldn’t escape. You could see the doubt in his eyes, and it stung.

“Jiung, I already told you everything,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm but firm.

He didn’t look convinced, his gaze flickering to Ni-ki again, lingering a little too long. Ni-ki, for his part, seemed unaffected, his expression unreadable.

"Well, if you remember anything else—" Jiung started, but you cut him off.

“Look, I really need to go to the bathroom,” you said, your patience wearing thin. “I’ll be back in a minute. Can you just... wait here?”

Jiung nodded, though you could see the worry in his eyes as he glanced at Ni-ki one last time.

You didn’t want to deal with this right now, and as you made your way toward the bathroom, you hoped that maybe Jiung would leave. But just as you reached the door, you heard it. A loud crash, followed by shouts, then the sound of things scattering across the floor.

Your heart skipped a beat. You rushed back toward the living room, and your stomach dropped when you saw what was happening. Ni-ki and Jiung were on the floor, tangled together in a mess of flailing limbs. They were shouting at each other, the aggression in their voices unmistakable.

“Jiung, what the hell—” you gasped.

The two of them were a mess—clothes half-ripped, hair disheveled, and faces already starting to show the marks of their struggle. Ni-ki’s grip on Jiung’s shirt was unforgiving, his knuckles white with the intensity of his hold, while Jiung pushed back with all his might, trying to break free.

The coffee table had been knocked over in the chaos, and your bowl of popcorn lay shattered across the floor, the pieces scattered like a reminder of how quickly things had gone wrong.

“Ni-ki is the killer! Don’t you see it?!” Jiung shouted, his voice hoarse and frantic as he tried to land a punch, but Ni-ki dodged it easily. His voice rang with panic, eyes wide as he looked at you. “You’re protecting him! You don’t know who he is!”

You felt the words cut through you like a knife, your heart pounding in your chest as the truth of what Jiung was accusing sank in. Was it possible? Was Ni-ki really the killer? The one responsible for everything? Your mind raced, but every part of you resisted the thought. You knew Ni-ki—he couldn’t be.

But Jiung’s anger and fear were real. His accusations filled the room like a thick, oppressive fog.

Ni-ki’s expression remained cold, unflinching, despite the heat of the fight. His face was a mask of controlled rage as he twisted Jiung’s shirt tighter. “You don’t know anything,” he growled, his voice low and menacing. “You’re just trying to get a rise out of her.”

Jiung tried to break free, his breath ragged. “You think I’m lying? You think I’m crazy? I saw the patterns, I saw the way he’s always there, after dark. You think that’s a coincidence?!” He shoved Ni-ki with all his strength, causing the two of them to stumble. “You can’t hide it anymore. You’ll slip up, and when you do—”

Ni-ki cut him off, his grip tightening as he shoved Jiung into the wall with a brutal force. “I’m done with you,” he snarled, his voice filled with a chilling finality. “You’ve said your piece. Now, get the hell out of my sight.”

Jiung’s face twisted with frustration as he took in the damage around him—the overturned coffee table, the popcorn on the floor. He seemed to come to a realization then, one you couldn’t quite place, and he stared at Ni-ki one last time with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“You’re the monster,” Jiung spat, his voice trembling. “And she’ll see it too. She’ll figure it out eventually.”

Jiung opened the door, his hands trembling as he stepped out, casting one last glance at you before leaving, his figure disappearing into the hallway.

The room felt unnaturally still after he was gone. The only sounds were your breathing and the faint hum of the air conditioner.

Ni-ki, still standing where Jiung had left him, slowly relaxed his stance, though the tension in his body remained. He took a step back, as if finally realizing how close to the edge things had been. His eyes locked onto you, the intensity of his gaze making your heart skip a beat. But this time, there was something else there, something deeper—something you couldn’t quite understand.

“You don’t believe him, do you?” Ni-ki asked, his voice softer now, almost too calm.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Your mind was a whirlwind, caught between what you had just witnessed and the person you thought you knew.

“He’s just trying to scare you,” Ni-ki continued, taking a step closer to you, his expression unreadable. “You know me better than that. I’d never hurt you. You have to know that.”

But you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in your chest. The questions, the doubts, they had been creeping in for weeks, ever since you first met him. Every time you thought you could trust him completely, something dark—something off—seemed to follow in his wake.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing thoughts. “I don’t know what to believe anymore,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

Ni-ki didn’t respond immediately, just standing there, his eyes never leaving yours, watching you as if waiting for something. You could feel the weight of his gaze, the way it seemed to see straight through you.

But then, his lips curved into a small, reassuring smile. “You don’t have to think about it right now,” he said softly.

The words sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t know why. You didn’t know what to do with the tangled mess of emotions swirling inside you.

The days following Jiung’s visit felt like an eternity. You couldn’t shake the weight of his accusations or the image of Ni-ki and Jiung fighting, each man standing for something so different.

You started to keep Ni-ki at arm's length, your interactions with him becoming more guarded. You’d still spend time together, but there was a distance now—something unsaid that hung in the air between you, a barrier that wasn’t there before.

Ni-ki noticed. His usual calm demeanor faltered, just for a moment, whenever you hesitated to answer his calls or avoided his gaze for too long. But he didn’t press it. Not directly. Instead, he continued to show up, his presence always just a step away from being too much, and yet you let him in. Every time. Maybe it was the loneliness, or the need for something familiar, something you could hold onto.

One evening, you opened the door to find him standing there, the familiar tilt of his head and that quiet smile of his. He was calm, as always, but there was something in his eyes—something searching. He didn’t have to say anything to make you feel it.

“You’re avoiding me,” he said quietly, stepping into the apartment without waiting for you to invite him in.

You couldn’t bring yourself to lie. “I don’t know what to think anymore,” you admitted, your voice low. “I’m confused.”

Ni-ki closed the door behind him with a soft click and turned to face you, his eyes unwavering. “I understand,” he said, his tone almost too understanding. “But you’ve got to trust me. I haven’t done anything wrong. You know me better than anyone else.”

You wanted to believe him. You really did. But Jiung’s accusations, the evidence he showed you… it made it harder.

“Ni-ki, I…” You faltered, your words feeling heavy in your chest. “I don’t know who to trust.”

He stepped closer, his gaze locking onto yours, the space between you shrinking with each word. “You can trust me,” he said, his voice softer, almost coaxing. “I know it’s hard to see through all the confusion, but I swear to you, I’m innocent. I would never hurt you.”

You took a step back, your mind fighting with your heart. Your body told you to believe him, to let go of the doubt. But the fear still lingered, a shadow at the edge of your thoughts.

“You have to understand, what Jiung said… It’s all just paranoia,” he murmured, his voice low and comforting, like a whisper meant to calm the storm inside you. “He doesn’t understand me the way you do. You know me. You know who I am.” His hand reached out, fingers brushing gently along your arm. "You know that I would never hurt you. I’d never hurt anyone you care about."

You shook your head slightly, still conflicted, but his touch made it hard to focus. “But Jiung…” you started, your voice faltering.

“He’s crazy,” Ni-ki interrupted, a flicker of frustration flashing in his eyes before it softened again, replaced by that unwavering calm. "He’s got a wild imagination. He's pushing all these ideas in your head. Don’t listen to him. You’re smart. You know what feels right.” He took another step closer, his hand moving to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You feel it too, don’t you? The connection between us? The way I protect you, the way I look out for you? There’s nothing wrong with that.”

You swallowed hard, his words sinking deeper into your mind, like a slow poison—soft and insidious. The memory of Jiung’s accusations felt distant now, buried beneath the weight of Ni-ki’s soothing tone. "But... what if he was right?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, the fear creeping in again.

Ni-ki gave you a small smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He cupped your chin gently, lifting it, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Jiung doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s just scared. Of me, of what he can’t have But you, you’re not scared, are you?” His voice dropped even lower, intimate and coaxing. “You know I would never hurt you. Why would I? I care about you. I would do anything for you.”

You hesitated, the conflicting emotions a jumbled mess in your mind. Ni-ki continued, his fingers sliding from your chin to the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer. “You’re safe with me. You’ve always been safe with me. Jiung doesn’t want to see that. But you do. You trust me, right?”

You nodded, despite the knot in your stomach, the small voice of doubt still lingering in the back of your mind. It felt easier to trust him in this moment. He was right there, offering you comfort, offering you understanding. Everything about him seemed so sure, so calm, as though the whole world was just a puzzle he’d already figured out.

“You’ll see,” Ni-ki whispered, brushing his lips lightly against your forehead, “once Jiung’s out of the picture, you won’t have to worry about anything. We can be happy. Together.”

Before you could say anything else, Ni-ki lifted your chin, tilting your head back slightly. His breath was warm on your skin as he leaned in, and for a moment, you froze, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. But then, before you could stop yourself, he kissed you.

His lips were soft, almost tentative at first, as if waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. You didn’t pull away. Instead, your arms found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. Ni-ki responded immediately, his hand moving from your chin to the back of your neck, his grip possessive but gentle.

His other hand slid around your waist, pulling your body against his, the heat of his touch igniting something inside you that you had tried to ignore. The kiss was intense, consuming—everything you had been pushing down rising to the surface.

He backed you towards the wall, his body pressing against yours, and you could feel the tension between you both, the energy swirling in the space around you. You kissed him back, feeling the surge of desire you hadn’t realized was building up inside you.

In that moment, everything else faded away—the doubt, the fear, the confusion. All that mattered was the way he held you, the way he kissed you, the way he made you feel like you were the only thing in the world.

Ni-ki’s lips lingered for just a moment longer before he pulled back slightly, his breath warm against your face. His gaze softened as he looked down at you, his hands gently resting on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing in small circles.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice low, full of awe. “I don’t know if you realize it, but you really are.” His eyes searched yours, intense and filled with something that felt almost too deep to understand, yet you couldn’t help but drown in it. “You’re perfect. Everything about you, your smile, the way you think… It’s everything I could ever want.”

You stood there, your heart beating faster, warmth blooming in your chest. No one had ever spoken to you like that before, with such intensity, such devotion. It was intoxicating.

“You make me feel like I’m the luckiest person in the world,” he continued, his lips curling into a smile, almost possessive in its warmth. “I love everything about you.” His voice dropped lower, more intimate. “I love how you trust me. How you’re mine.”

His words wrapped around you like silk, each compliment sinking deeper into your chest, making you feel cherished, wanted in a way that left you breathless. It was like he had tapped into something inside you, something you didn’t even know was there.

“You make me feel like nothing else matters,” he murmured, his hand sliding up to gently hold your cheek. “I need you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

You felt a soft smile tug at the corner of your lips, your heart swelling with something that almost felt too big for your chest. For a moment, you almost forgot about everything else—about the doubts, the warnings, the nagging feeling that there was something off. It didn’t matter. Because in that moment, Ni-ki was the center of your world.

And the way he looked at you, so tender, so fixated, made you believe that you were the only one who could make him feel this way.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’ll always love you. No one else, just you.”

You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the emotion that swelled in your chest. You didn’t question it.

Because in that moment, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was him. And the love he gave you. The kind of love that wrapped around you like chains, making you feel like you were everything to him.

You didn’t need to know that it wasn’t the healthy kind of love. The kind of love that makes you feel safe, seen, and valued. No, this was the kind of love that thrived on obsession, on want, The kind of love that turned into possession, into something dangerous.

But you didn’t need to know that. Not yet.

--

The cool evening air wrapped around you as you walked down the dimly lit street, the soft hum of the city’s late-night life barely audible. Your fingers danced across your phone’s screen, sending a quick text to Ni-ki. You smiled at the thought of him, your chest warm with the affection you’d come to associate with him in these past few days. It had been a week since any news of the killer had surfaced in the area, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you allowed yourself to feel a little at ease.

The street was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant sound of cars passing.

But the moment you raised your eyes from your phone, something shifted in the air.

The silence seemed heavier now, thick with something you couldn’t quite place. Your heartbeat quickened, and despite your attempts to ignore it, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You slowed your pace, scanning the quiet street, looking for any sign of movement, but saw nothing. Nothing that seemed out of place.

Yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you. You had ignored it before, the anxiety bubbling up every now and then, but tonight… tonight, it felt different.

You kept walking, fingers tightening around your phone, clutching it like a lifeline. You tried to push the thought out of your mind, convincing yourself it was nothing, just the remnants of your paranoia, but your instincts were screaming.

Your eyes darted from the street to the alleyways, scanning the shadows. The streetlights flickered as you walked past them, casting long, eerie shadows that seemed to move with you. You quickened your pace, not sure why, but feeling an undeniable need to get home, to the safety of your apartment.

Then, a sharp sound broke the stillness behind you.

You froze.

Footsteps—fast, heavy, and far too close.

You turned around, eyes wide, but the street was empty. The night air felt colder now, and you felt the rush of adrenaline hit your bloodstream. Your mind raced, trying to find logic in the situation, trying to explain the sudden unease that crawled under your skin. You glanced back at your phone, feeling a desperate need to call Ni-ki, to hear his voice. But then your phone buzzed in your hand, and your breath caught in your throat.

It was a message from him. “Are you home yet? I’m thinking about you.”

You took a shaky breath, attempting to steady yourself, but it didn’t help. Something felt wrong. Your heart pounded in your chest, your senses on edge. You turned the corner, taking a route that led you toward your apartment building, but before you could take another step, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up again.

The footsteps were louder now, closing in.

And this time, you could feel it—someone was behind you. You didn’t dare turn around. Instead, you broke into a sprint, desperate to make it to the safety of your apartment. Your heart raced, pumping with fear, as your footfalls echoed in the night. You could hear the sound of running footsteps following you, getting closer, faster.

With every beat of your heart, you felt the fear building. Your breaths came in sharp gasps as you rounded the last corner before your building came into sight. The lights were on in the lobby, a beacon of safety you were nearly within reach of.

But just as you reached the door, a cold hand gripped your wrist, pulling you back into the shadows.

You felt the sharp tug of your wrist as you got dragged further into the shadows, your heart racing as panic surged through your veins. His grip was iron-tight, and each step he took felt like it was pulling you farther from safety. The familiar, chilling voice whispered again, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Did you really think you were safe?” he murmured, the words coated in something dark.

The world seemed to slow as you looked around, your eyes desperately searching for help. And then, in that moment, you saw him—Jiung. He was walking out of the apartment building, his expression tight, a storm cloud of anger above his head.

Without thinking, you swung your head back, using the only weapon you had—the back of your skull. You slammed it against the killer’s face with all your might. The sound of it echoed in the night, and he grunted in pain, stumbling back. The grip on your wrist loosened for just a second.

That was all you needed.

You took off running.

“Jiung!” you screamed, voice hoarse with fear. “The killer is here!”

Jiung whipped around at the sound of your voice. His eyes widened in shock and recognition as he saw the state you were in, but there was no hesitation. He grabbed your wrist without a second thought and pulled you down the street with him. Your heart pounded in your chest as your feet barely touched the ground.

The sound of your footsteps echoed in the night, but Jiung’s determination led you to safety. He didn’t stop running until you reached a narrow alleyway, the faint glow of a streetlamp casting long shadows against the walls. He yanked you behind a dumpster, urgency in every movement.

“Stay quiet,” Jiung hissed, fumbling for his phone with shaky hands. His breath was quick, his eyes scanning the street, his voice low and urgent. “We need to wait until he passes. Don’t make a sound.”

You nodded, pressing yourself against the cold brick wall, trying to steady your breathing. Your body felt like it was on fire from adrenaline, but there was no time to process it. You had to stay quiet. You had to stay hidden.

You peaked through behing the dumpster, your breath barely a whisper as you watched the street. The killer was there, his head scanning the area. His posture was tense, each step measured, and it made your stomach drop.

You quickly pulled your head back, heart racing. Your eyes met Jiung’s, and the terror in them was mirrored in his. He pressed a finger to his lips, motioning for you to stay as still as possible. You did, trying to make yourself as small as possible, breathing shallowly, praying he wouldn’t find you.

You pushed back against the wall even further, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment, hoping the fear would subside, but it only grew. You could hear the faint shuffle of the killer’s footsteps, closer now. Every sound felt louder in the silence of the alley. Your pulse drummed in your ears, and your chest tightened.

Jiung’s phone buzzed in his hand, but he didn’t dare answer it. Instead, his eyes locked onto yours, full of resolve. He would protect you, no matter what. But the question was, how long could you stay hidden? How long until he found you?

You felt the seconds stretch into what felt like eternity, your body frozen in place. The cold air seemed to grow heavier as every nerve in your body screamed for you to move, to run, to do something—anything. But your feet remained rooted to the ground as the wind shifted, carrying with it the familiar, suffocating scent of the killer.

You opened your eyes, your breath catching in your throat as your gaze landed on him.

There he was.

He stood there, just a few feet away, his eyes locked on you. His voice was low, almost mocking, as he leaned in slightly, his gaze never leaving you.

"Found you," he said, his tone sending an ice-cold shiver down your spine.

Before you could react, the terror overwhelmed you. Your throat felt tight as a scream tore its way out of you, a cry of desperation, of pure fear. You backed away, stumbling, but there was nowhere to go.

Jiung reacted instantly, leaping up from behind the dumpster, his body moving with the speed of someone who had no choice but to fight. He threw himself at the killer, fists flying. They collided with each other in a flurry of punches and kicks, a blur of movement and desperation.

But the killer was prepared. He pulled out a knife, gleaming cold under the dim streetlights, and without hesitation, he lunged.

Time seemed to slow as the blade plunged into Jiung’s abdomen, a sickening sound echoing in the alley.

You froze, unable to move, unable to breathe, as Jiung gasped, his hands clutching at the wound. Blood spilled between his fingers, and you could see the life draining from his face as he stumbled back. His breath came in quick, shallow gasps.

But Jiung wasn’t done yet. Despite the pain, despite the blood spilling from him, he refused to back down. His hand shot out toward a pile of broken glass nearby—sharp shards that glittered like jagged teeth in the dim light. His fingers wrapped around one, and with a primal yell, he swung it at the killer.

The sharp glass met the killer’s skin, drawing a streak of blood across his arm. The killer grunted in pain, momentarily stunned, but he recovered quickly. His eyes locked onto Jiung’s, full of rage, as he prepared to strike again.

You sat there, paralyzed, unable to do anything but watch in horror as the two men fought, the sound of fists meeting flesh, the sickening slashes of the knife cutting through the air. Your mind was screaming for you to act, to help, but your body refused to obey.

All you could do was watch the violence unfold before you, heart pounding in your chest, terrified of what would happen next.

In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stop. Jiung, his face contorted with pain and fury, managed to land a punch to the killer's jaw. The force of the blow sent the killer stumbling back, giving Jiung a brief but crucial opening.

With a desperate gasp, Jiung grabbed the killer’s mask, his hands trembling with the effort, and in one swift motion, he tore it off.

The world around you seemed to freeze as the dim streetlight illuminated the face beneath the mask. The face you had seen so many times before—every day, every week.

It was Ni-ki.

Your heart slammed against your ribcage, your breath caught in your throat. It couldn’t be—this wasn’t possible. Your mind refused to process it, even as the sight before you screamed the truth.

Ni-ki’s face was battered, blood smeared across his nose, a split lip, and a cut above his eyebrow. But despite the damage, despite the blood, he still wore that same, twisted smile. The kind of smile that made your stomach turn, the kind that sent a chill down your spine.

He looked at you, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement, and with the bloodstained remnants of his smile, he spoke.

“Surprise, doll.”

The words echoed in your head, ringing louder than the chaos around you. The killer—the man who had been terrorizing the streets, the one who had been hunting you, was the very person you had let into your life. The man you had trusted. The man you love.

Ni-ki.

He stepped closer, blood dripping from his face as he took a slow, deliberate breath, savoring the shock on your face. The man you thought you knew, the one who had played the role of the charming, protective figure, was now standing before you as the very monster you had feared.

And he was enjoying every second of it.

Jiung, weak and struggling to stay on his feet, gritted his teeth as he raised the shard of glass again, ready to fight, but the sheer realization of what Ni-ki was sent a wave of terror crashing over you. You couldn’t move, couldn’t think straight.

Ni-ki's eyes flickered to Jiung, then back to you, his smile widening, dark and crazy. He reached up to wipe the blood from his nose, his voice low, almost amused as he looked at the two of you.

“You really thought you could stop me? Cute.” He chuckled, a sound that made your blood run cold.

Everything you thought you knew—everything you had believed about him—was a lie. The person you had been so drawn to, the one who had seemed so perfect, was the very person who had been hunting you all along.

Ni-ki’s smile never wavered as he approached Jiung, who was struggling to stay conscious, his breath shallow and ragged. The bleeding from his stab wound had only worsened as he lay there, weakened and unable to defend himself.

Ni-ki crouched down beside Jiung, his fingers trailing lazily over the blood-soaked ground, clearly enjoying the sight of his former victim.

“You know,” Ni-ki murmured, his voice low and dripping with mockery, “you were right. You figured me out before anyone else did.” He tilted his head, a cruel gleam flashing in his eyes. “But it was a stupid way to prove it, don’t you think?”

Jiung, barely clinging to consciousness, managed to grit his teeth, his hands shaking as he tried to push himself up. He cursed Ni-ki out through his bloodstained lips, his voice rough but filled with defiance. “You’re insane, Ni-ki. You’re nothing but a sick, twisted bastard.”

Ni-ki didn’t flinch. In fact, he laughed, the sound almost too light for the situation, as if it was all some kind of sick joke to him. He reached out, grabbing Jiung by the collar of his shirt and jerking him up slightly before slamming him back down onto the cold, filthy pavement.

Jiung let out a pained gasp, trying to punch him, but his efforts were weak, his body too battered and bloodied to fight properly. Ni-ki easily dodged, stepping aside with a lazy grin. “Come on, Jiung, I thought you were better than that.” He made a mocking sound, almost disappointed. “You’re just a nobody, trying to play somebody. But you’ll never be anybody.”

With a swift movement, Ni-ki stepped back and let Jiung fall back to the floor, helpless and weak. He turned his attention back to you, eyes glinting with the same unsettling hunger he’d always had.

“You’re mine now, doll,” Ni-ki purred, his voice low and possessive. The way he looked at you now was different, like a predator sizing up its prey. “And I’m not letting you go.”

His words sent a chill down your spine, a mix of fear and a strange, confusing part of you that still wasn’t sure how to feel. He stood there, watching you with an almost calculating gaze, his smirk never leaving his face as he took in the way you reacted to the scene before you.

Suddenly the sound of sirens pierced the air, their wail growing louder, closer. For a brief moment, Ni-ki froze, his eyes flashing with irritation. His gaze snapped from you to the distant entrance of the alleyway as the first set of flashing lights illuminated the street.

“No…” he muttered under his breath, before cursing loudly. “Not now!”

Without a second thought, he spun on his heel and sprinted, darting into the shadows, his footsteps quick and erratic. You barely registered his movement as you looked up, heart pounding, to see the police officers now rushing toward the scene.

“Shoot!” Jiung’s weak, pained shout broke through the ringing in your ears, the officers opened fire. The sound of gunshots echoed through the alleyway, and you flinched, eyes wide with terror as you heard Ni-ki shout in pain.

“Move! Move!” one of the officers shouted, his voice urgent. Another officer, with the familiar stride of someone used to chasing down criminals, sprinted after Ni-ki, disappearing into the night.

The remaining officers rushed to you and Jiung, the crackling urgency in their movements. One of them knelt by Jiung’s side, his face grim as he assessed the situation. The other officer quickly turned to you, his hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you. “Stay with him,” he urged. “We’ve called an ambulance. It’s on the way.”

But you knew. You knew that it might be too late. You saw Jiung’s face, pale and drawn with blood, his breath ragged and shallow, the crimson slowly spreading across his chest. His eyes fluttered, struggling to stay open.

“Jiung…” You whispered his name, voice shaky, as you crouched down next to him. His hand reached out weakly, grasping yours with a weak, trembling hold.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. His eyes were cloudy, but he was still looking at you, even if it seemed so distant now. “I tried to… I tried to protect you…”

Tears blurred your vision. “You did, Jiung. You did.”

His faint smile made your heart shatter, but there was nothing you could do now, nothing but to stay with him.

The ambulance finally arrived, and the paramedics rushed in, their movements swift and professional, trying desperately to stabilize Jiung. They didn’t waste time, quickly getting him onto the stretcher and into the back of the ambulance.

You sat in the back of the ambulance, your heart in your throat, as they worked on him, trying to keep his weak pulse steady. Every bump in the road seemed like it could be the last.

The hospital came into view soon enough, and you felt numb as they rolled Jiung inside, their movements swift and precise, but it all felt too late. The doctors rushed to assess him, shouting orders, and you were left standing in the sterile hallway, your heart pounding in your chest.

Every passing minute felt like an eternity. You had been checked for injuries, given a few mild sedatives to calm your nerves, but nothing could ease the gnawing anxiety gnawing at your stomach. You needed news. You needed to know if Jiung was okay. If he had survived.

You waited. And waited.

You didn’t know how much time had passed when a doctor finally appeared at the door, his face grim but not completely hopeless.

“Are you here for Jiung?” the doctor asked, his tone serious.

“Yes,” you said, standing up too quickly, your knees unsteady. “How is he?”

The doctor hesitated, looking at you carefully. “We’ve managed to stabilize him, but it’s touch-and-go. His injuries are severe. We’re doing everything we can, but we can’t promise anything.”

You nodded numbly, a tear slipping down your cheek as you whispered, “Please… don’t let him die.”

The doctor gave you a small, sympathetic nod, before turning to walk down the hall, leaving you in that suffocating silence again. You didn’t know what else to do. You had no strength left.

But you didn’t leave.

--

The moment the doctor told you the good news, you felt like a weight you hadn’t realized you’d been carrying was lifted from your chest. He was stable, still weak, but his heart rate had steadied, and the monitors that had been beeping in a steady rhythm now felt like a lifeline.

You stepped into the sterile room, the sound of the heart monitor beeping steadily filling the air. Jiung was still unconscious, but the rhythm of his heartbeat on the monitor brought you a sense of relief you hadn’t realized you needed. The steady beep seemed like the only reassuring sound in the world right now.

You pulled a chair beside his bed, your hand gently resting on his. It was warm, his skin still carrying the weight of the battle he’d fought. The wounds were bandaged, the cuts and bruises still visible, but there was a certain peacefulness now. The machines were there to help him, to keep him alive. His breath was soft, but steady.

“You’re going to be okay,” you whispered, your voice hoarse, but full of hope. “You’re going to be okay, Jiung.”

You spent the next few hours in that quiet, sterile room, making sure that Jiung had everything he needed. When his family arrived, you greeted them with a nod, letting them take over. They seemed so relieved, and you could tell that the weight on their shoulders was starting to lift. But there was still a long road ahead.

After some time, the police came, and you were escorted to the station for questioning. The tightness in your chest from the night before was still there, and the quiet hum of the station didn’t do anything to calm you.

You sat nervously in the sterile, fluorescent-lit room of the police station, your hands pressed tightly together in your lap, your mind racing. The low hum of conversation and the shuffle of paperwork echoed from the hallway, but inside the room, it felt like everything was suspended in a heavy silence.

A detective entered the room, his expression serious. He was holding a folder, flipping through papers before glancing up at you. “We’ve got an update,” he said, his voice flat.

You sat up straighter, trying to prepare yourself for what was to come, but the unease that had settled deep in your chest couldn’t be shaken. “Is it about Ni-ki?”

The detective paused for a moment, then nodded. “He’s gone.”

The words hit you like a punch in the gut. You blinked, feeling the world shift beneath your feet. “Gone?” you repeated, unable to comprehend. “What do you mean ‘gone’?”

“They lost him,” the detective explained, his voice barely betraying any emotion. “We thought we had him cornered. But there was no sign of him anywhere. No trail, no leads.”

You swallowed hard, the room suddenly feeling too small. Your thoughts raced, your chest tightening as you grappled with the realization that Ni-ki had somehow escaped. How was that even possible?

“How?” you whispered, more to yourself than to the detective. “How could he just... disappear?”

The detective’s eyes softened slightly, as if sensing the turmoil inside you. “We’re still investigating, but from the evidence we gathered, we think he’s been one step ahead of us the whole time. He could be anywhere by now.”

Your mind went blank, the world spinning around you. Ni-ki—your Ni-ki—was gone.

Suddenly officers surrounded you with questions, all trying to piece together the night’s events, asking for every detail.

You answered as best you could, your mind replaying the horrible events that had unfolded over the past few weeks. Every time they asked about Ni-ki, the feelings in your chest tightened, and it took everything in you to answer without faltering.

It wasn’t until one of the detectives asked you a question you didn’t expect that your breath caught in your throat.

“Has Ni-ki contacted you?” the detective asked, his voice firm but measured. “We know you two are close. If he reaches out again, we’d like you to wear a wire. We can use you as bait to catch him.”

You froze. The words hung in the air, thick with their implications. The flashbacks to every moment with Ni-ki flooded your mind—his kindness, his protection, the way he’d whispered promises to you, the way he held you, the way he looked at you. You remembered the way he told you that he loved you, the way he made you feel safe. You remembered the thrill, the obsession, the pull of his presence.

You swallowed hard. You had always known, deep down, that something wasn’t right. But your love for him had blinded you. You couldn’t ignore it anymore. He was a murderer, a criminal, and as much as you hated to admit it, you knew he was guilty of everything they were accusing him of.

But still, the hesitation gnawed at you.

“Do you think he’ll hurt you?” the detective asked, noticing the uncertainty in your face.

You didn’t answer immediately. You thought of his words: “I would never hurt you, doll.” His voice echoed in your mind. He had never hurt you, had he? You were still alive, still breathing.

But the question lingered—could you trust him? Could you really risk everything for a man who had been hiding his true nature from you all along? A man who had killed without remorse?

You took a deep breath, the weight of the decision heavy on your chest. Slowly, you nodded.

“Yes,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll do it.”

The detective gave you a nod of approval, but you could feel the heaviness in the air. You weren’t sure if you had made the right choice, but you knew it was the only option you had. The man you loved was dangerous. And the only way to stop him, to protect others, was to help the police catch him.

The thought of wearing a wire, of luring him in, made your stomach twist with anxiety. But you couldn’t ignore the truth. Ni-ki was a killer, and it was time to face that reality.

“Thank you,” the detective said. “We’ll arrange everything. Just stay in touch, and when he reaches out, we’ll be ready.”

You nodded, feeling numb. You left the station, your thoughts swirling. The weight of what you’d just agreed to hung over you.

When you got home, the sight of Ni-ki’s apartment door covered with police tape sent a cold shiver down your spine. The red-and-white stripes, the ominous warning of a crime scene, were a stark reminder of how close to the edge you had come. How everything had spiraled out of control, and how much you had been willing to ignore just to hold onto something—or someone—you thought you could trust.

With a deep breath, you turned away and walked into your own apartment, the familiar surroundings offering little comfort as you closed the door behind you. The silence in your space was suffocating, every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet somehow louder than usual.

You didn’t do much that night. No calls, no messages, no distractions. You just walked to your bed and collapsed on it, staring up at the ceiling, the weight of everything pressing in around you. You could feel the tension in your body, the deep ache in your chest where love and regret tangled together in a confusing knot.

The memories of him, of his touch, his smile, his voice, and all the promises he’d made to you… it was too much to bear all at once. You didn’t know what to feel anymore, what to believe. Every memory, every whisper of his voice felt like it was suffocating you, forcing you to hold on when all you wanted was to let go.

--

A few days passed, the police investigation continuing but yielding no new leads. You tried to keep your life as normal as possible, but the weight of the unknown pressed down on you every minute of the day. The fear that Ni-ki could be watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, never left you.

Your phone buzzed suddenly, the vibration echoing in the empty room. At first, you didn't think much of it, but as you glanced at the screen, something caught your attention. The message was from an unknown number, and your heart skipped a beat. It was a message you hadn’t been expecting, but deep down, you knew exactly who it was from.

The message itself was simple, only a few words, but it sent a jolt of fear down your spine.

“Doll, I’ve missed you.”

Your breath hitched in your chest, and your fingers trembled slightly as you stared at the screen. The word doll was unmistakable. Ni-ki. It could only be him.

For a moment, you sat frozen, every muscle in your body tight, your mind racing as the weight of his message sank in. You wanted to call the police, to reach out for help, but a part of you held you back. You had no idea where he was, but there was an undeniable pull that made it hard to ignore him.

You hesitated for a moment, then typed back a simple question, your fingers unsteady.

“What do you want from me?”

The response came quickly, almost immediately, and it sent a chill down your spine.

“Just a little reunion. I think you’ll be happy to see me."

You quickly typed back, your fingers trembling as you struggled to keep your hands steady.

"Where?"

The seconds that passed felt like hours, your pulse quickening as you waited for a response. Finally, the phone buzzed again, the screen lighting up with another message.

This time, it was different. There were no words. Only an address.

An address that made your stomach drop.

"Come alone."

You stared at the screen, your mind racing. The fear started to set in as you thought about the implications of the message. Was this a trap? Or was he truly trying to see you again? Your thoughts spun in every direction, but one thing was clear—he wanted to meet. And somehow, you knew that he was in control of this situation.

Your hand hovered over your phone, your body frozen in indecision. Every part of you screamed to ignore the message, to let the police handle it. But you knew Ni-ki wasn’t that easy to catch. He’d always been two steps ahead.

You looked at the address again, the numbers blurred by your anxious tears. You couldn’t tell if you were ready to face him, but deep down, you knew you were already preparing yourself for what was to come. You had to go. You had to see him one last time.

With trembling hands, you typed a simple response:

"I’ll be there."

The message sent, and you felt a knot form in your stomach.

--

The next night, the air felt heavier than usual. You stood at the address Ni-ki had sent, staring at the old, abandoned building in front of you. The structure was decaying, graffiti littering its walls, the windows cracked and boarded up. It looked like the perfect place for a secret meeting, a place no one would think to look. The chill of the night sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself glancing around, half-expecting someone to jump out at you.

Nobody.

You checked your phone, noticing you were a bit early. The minutes ticked by slowly, each one stretching longer than the last. The silence felt heavy, each creak and rustle sending your nerves on edge. You took a steadying breath, wondering if maybe—just maybe—he wouldn’t show up.

But then, you felt it. A presence, warm and unsettlingly familiar, hovering close behind you. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as a low voice whispered near your ear, smooth yet laced with that teasing edge you knew all too well.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show, doll,” he purred, his voice sinking into your bones.

Your heart leaped, and you spun around, coming face to face with him. “You’re a little early, aren’t you?” Ni-ki purred, his steps slow and confident as he closed the distance between you, his presence suddenly overwhelming. “Did you think I’d forget about you?”

His gaze was intense, studying every little reaction from you. It was like he was savoring this moment, his dark eyes never leaving yours, his lips curling into that unsettling grin that made you feel both drawn to him and repulsed at the same time.

You swallowed hard, your mind racing as you tried to piece together your next move. What were you supposed to say? Your body tensed, but your feet remained rooted to the spot, your arms folded tightly across your chest as if to protect yourself from the overwhelming pull he had over you.

“Why did you bring me here, Ni-ki?” You managed, your voice steadier than you felt, but inside you could feel your nerves unraveling.

Ni-ki chuckled softly, taking another step closer. “To see you, doll. To see if you’re ready to stop pretending you’re someone else, stop running.” His fingers brushed against your arm lightly, and you flinched, though he didn’t seem to care.

He moved even closer, his face only inches from yours. “You’ve been running from me, haven’t you?” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “You didn’t really think I’d let you go so easily, did you?”

The realization hit you hard. He hadn’t contacted you to let go or to explain—he had brought you here to remind you that he still had you, wrapped up in his world, whether you wanted it or not. And as his fingers reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, you knew he wasn’t going to let you slip away.

“Oh, doll,” he murmured, his words dripping with twisted affection. “I thought you’d realize by now—you and I, we’re… inevitable. I’m part of you, as much as you are part of me. We fit, don’t you see? That little thrill you get, that rush in your veins when you’re with me… it’s more than just fear.” He paused, his eyes gleaming with something dark and possessive. “It’s excitement, isn’t it?”

He tilted his head, watching every twitch of your expression, every flicker of hesitation in your eyes. "You like it, don’t you? The thrill of it all, the mystery, the danger… If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have come here tonight. You didn’t have to answer that message.” His hand moved, slipping to the back of your neck, his thumb grazing over your pulse, feeling the rapid beat under his fingers. “But you wanted to. Part of you was… curious. Maybe even… drawn to me. You still want to see me, even after everything."

You swallowed, feeling a chill at how easily he could see right through you, peeling away layers to reach the uncertainty you’d tried to bury. His gaze held yours, and you felt paralyzed under it, trapped in the intensity of his words.

“I make you feel alive, don’t I?” His voice was barely above a whisper now, the words wrapping around you, pulling you in despite yourself. “Tell me, honestly. Do you really want to go back to your quiet, predictable life, or do you want to be here, with me?”

Your heart raced under his touch, every word sinking in deeper, stirring up feelings you had tried so hard to push down. Part of you wanted to resist, to walk away and bury this twisted pull he seemed to have over you. But as you looked into his eyes, his gaze so intense it felt like he was unraveling every part of you, you realized how hard it was to lie to yourself any longer.

As his hand slipped from your neck, trailing down your arm to finally capture your wrist, he tightened his grip just enough to make you feel the weight of his hold. “You were always meant to be here, doll. That’s why you came tonight, why you didn’t stay away. You could have told the police, could’ve run in any direction—but you came here, to me. You’re not running, not really.”

Ni-ki leaned closer, his mouth just beside your ear. “I know you don’t want to admit it, but… you’re mine, and I’m yours. It’s just the way it is. No one else would understand you the way I do.” His words were laced with dark promise, wrapping around you like a spell, coaxing you into that familiar, dangerous warmth.

“And you can try to push me away again,” he whispered, his breath warm and steady, “but it’ll never work, because I’m already in here.” His finger tapped lightly against your temple, and then he let his hand fall, brushing down your arm. “Deep down, you don’t want me to leave, do you? You don’t want to lose me.”

The realization sunk deeper, and he leaned back, smirking as he took in the flicker of doubt he’d stirred in your eyes. “So why don’t you just accept it? Stop fighting, and give in to what we both know is already there.”

You held his gaze, feeling the heat of his grip on your neck, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Every warning bell in your mind rang out, but they were muffled, tangled up in the intensity of his presence, in the dark thrill of being so close to him. You wanted to pull away, to deny the pull he had over you, but you knew it was no use. He was right; you were already caught in his orbit, unable to resist him fully.

Your voice was barely a whisper as you answered, your own words feeling both like a confession and a surrender. “I… I don’t want you to leave,” you admitted, feeling the last of your defenses crumble as you looked up at him. “I tried to run, tried to push you away… but you’re right. I don’t want to lose you.”

His smirk deepened, satisfaction glinting in his eyes as he held you close. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, thumb brushing softly along your jaw. “See? You’re exactly where you belong. With me.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours with a softness that seemed almost out of place given the tension swirling around you. And then you gave in, letting him pull you closer, his hands pressing against your back as he deepened the kiss, pouring every unspoken word, every dark promise, into it. It was desperate, raw, and so intense that it felt like he was claiming you, binding you to him with a connection that you couldn’t ignore, no matter how wrong it felt.

When you finally pulled back, your breath unsteady, you met his eyes, feeling a surge of conflicting emotions rise in your chest. You loved him, or maybe it was more accurate to say you loved the way he made you feel, the way he held you as if you were the center of his universe. But you knew—deep down, somewhere you’d tried to ignore—that this was unsustainable. Dangerous. A boundary crossed that couldn’t be uncrossed.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, a tremble in your voice.

Just then, the sound of footsteps and the bark of commands echoed through the building. The police swarmed the room, moving in, guns raised and voices sharp. Ni-ki’s face twisted in fury as he took a step back, his body coiled. He fought, thrashing against the officers who closed in on him, a snarl on his face as he shoved, swung, and resisted with every bit of strength he had.

“Get off me!” he roared, his eyes searching wildly until they found yours. He kept fighting, even as they forced him down, the weight of handcuffs snapping around his wrists with a finality that cut into the air like a knife. “No! Let me go! You can’t keep me!”

They pulled you back, and an officer shielded you as Ni-ki thrashed, his desperate gaze locked onto you, his voice growing louder, more desperate, with each passing second. “She’s mine! You can’t keep us apart!” His voice cracked, but the fury remained as they dragged him, his eyes searing into yours with a mixture of anger and desperation.

And despite everything, the weight of the heartbreak fell over you like a shroud. Tears blurred your vision, your chest tightening painfully as he was pulled out of the building, his screams fading into the night. You knew this was the only way, the only choice you had if you wanted to break free of his dangerous hold.

But some twisted part of you yearned for him, for the way he’d made you feel, for the thrilling, frightening attention he had given you. The line between love and fear had blurred beyond recognition, and as the officers led you away, you could still feel the haunting echo of his words.

In the silence, you knew you’d never be the same.

--

The news spread quickly—The killer was caught. People felt safe again; there was a renewed sense of calm throughout the city, like a collective sigh of relief after months of fear. It was over. Even Jiung, recovering in the hospital, felt a victorious pride in knowing he had been right all along. The police had commended him, his bravery gaining him recognition, a promotion, and a hefty raise. He was the hero of this story, finally validated.

But for you, life had taken a different turn. Every day felt hollow without Ni-ki. The nights were the hardest, when the memories of him became a ghost haunting the quiet hours. You would lie awake, your mind replaying the stolen glances, the thrill of his attention, the depth in his eyes when he looked at you. You missed him, an ache buried so deep it was almost painful. You’d wake from dreams where he was still with you, his arms wrapped around you, his lips brushing against your skin, whispering that you were his.

It was wrong, you told yourself over and over, to feel this way. But he had given you something no one else ever had, even in all its twisted intensity. His devotion, unhinged and consuming, had been a kind of dark comfort that felt impossible to replace.

You tried to fill your days with normal things, going through the motions, reconnecting with friends, putting on a brave face. But it was never enough. The nights stretched on endlessly, his absence lingering in every shadow, the memories of him entwining with the silence, pulling you back to a place that you wished you could escape from, but part of you never truly wanted to let go.

--

It had been weeks since they’d taken him away, weeks since you’d forced yourself to start a new chapter. You’d moved to a better part of town, the kind of place you hoped would feel safe, far from the past and far from the memories of him. But today, standing in your living room, the news alert on your phone shook you to your core:

Ni-ki had escaped from prison.

The words didn’t seem real. You read them again, your heart pounding louder with each second. He had escaped? The walls of your new apartment suddenly felt too thin, too fragile. The past weeks had been a struggle, true, but you had managed to convince yourself that it was over. That he was gone. That you were safe.

And now? You could practically hear his voice in your mind, that teasing, low murmur, saying he’d find you wherever you went. The memories flooded back—how he looked at you, how he made you feel like the only person in his world.

Your phone buzzed again, and your breath hitched, a small part of you both dreading and hoping it was him.

But it was a message from Jiung: "Stay inside. Lock all doors and windows. Police are already on high alert."

You sat down, trying to gather your thoughts. He couldn’t know where you were, could he? You’d been careful, had avoided any trace of the life you’d shared in that darker part of town. And yet, you couldn’t ignore the feeling that he was already close. That he’d find you, just like he promised.

An unsettling thrill ran through you, a twisted reminder of the love that still lingered, even after everything. You whispered to yourself, clutching your phone tightly, “What am I going to do?”

You weren’t sure how long you had been sitting there, the news about Ni-ki’s escape still echoing in your mind, when you heard the faintest sound outside your door. It was soft at first, almost imperceptible, like the creak of old wood underfoot. Your heart raced, eyes darting to the door. You couldn’t breathe for a moment, waiting for it to happen again.

Then you heard it—a quiet knock, a rhythm you knew too well. Your stomach churned, and instinctively, your feet moved toward the door. You tried to stop yourself, but your hand had already reached for the handle, your body pulling you closer to something you couldn’t resist.

You opened the door just a crack, and there he was—Ni-ki.

He stood there in the hallway, his familiar dark eyes staring back at you, intense and unrelenting. His jaw was set, his expression something dark.

For a moment, neither of you moved. He took one slow step forward, and without even thinking, you found yourself stepping into his arms, pressing your face into his chest, your body trembling as you hugged him tightly.

“You found me,” you whispered, your voice a mix of fear and longing. You didn’t care anymore. In this moment, it felt like he was the only thing that made sense in your life, the only thing that could put you at ease.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you so tightly you could barely breathe. “I told you I would,” he murmured, his voice almost playful despite the heaviness of his words.

His hands were on your back, gently caressing you as he whispered more words of possession, of devotion, his voice low and hypnotic. "You're the only one who understands me… the only one who’s ever really seen me."

Before you could respond, he tilted your chin up, his gaze never leaving yours, and leaned in. His lips brushed against yours, soft at first, before his kiss deepened, seizing control, pulling you closer. You couldn’t pull away. You didn’t want to.

The kiss felt familiar, intense, almost suffocating. There was no turning back now. It was as if everything that had happened before—the pain, the fear, the escape—had led to this moment.

His fingers tangled in your hair, and his lips brushed against your ear as he continued, his voice a dangerous mixture of softness and intensity. “I told you, doll,” he whispered, each word drawing you in deeper, “no one else could ever love you the way I do. No one else knows you like I do.”

He leaned back slightly, just enough to study your face, his dark eyes filled with a twisted sort of devotion. “You tried to replace me, didn’t you?” he asked, though the question was more of a knowing accusation. “But it didn’t work. You felt it too. No one could make you feel this alive… not like I can.”

You swallowed, caught in his gaze, and even as a shiver of fear flickered through you, it was overshadowed by the intoxicating pull he had. The way his eyes roamed over you made your heart pound, every glance and touch leaving a mark you couldn’t shake.

His hand moved from your hair, trailing down your shoulder and then your arm, coming to rest on your waist. “You can try to deny it,” he whispered, his mouth hovering just above yours, “but I know you missed this… missed me.” His fingers tightened, holding you with certainty, like he was reaffirming his claim. “It’s in your eyes, doll.”

In that moment, he pressed his lips to yours again, the kiss deep, full of all the things he wouldn’t say—how he’d waited, how he’d planned, how he wouldn’t let you slip away again. His hold was unrelenting, a reminder that you were his, that no matter how much you tried to run or forget, he would always come back for you.

When he finally pulled back, his gaze intense, he murmured, “There’s no life without me, doll. We’re meant to be.” His fingers brushed down your face as he continued, “I’ll take care of you. Protect you. Nobody else deserves you but me. And now… you’re never escaping me again.”

And despite the warning in his words, you found yourself nodding, caught in his spell, the line between fear and desire blurring with every touch, every whisper.

[thekissofaphrodite]

Maroon

Clarisse La Rue X Daughter of Iris!Reader

Summary: A lipstick mark resulted in a rather hasty rumour about you and clarisse.

Warnings: Kissing? Cursing :P (Remind me if I missed one)

Author's note: I wrote this at exactly 1 in the morning with no shame, but im here to serve since we don't have anough Clarrise FFs🫡

——

You two always ended up like this.

With your legs wrapped around Clarisse's waist, your red lipstick smudge with marks and kisses along her neck, and Your polished nails tangled on her soft curly hair.

Apparently, You noticed this pattern happening everyday. Clarrise coming to you to ramble about a her supposed 'bad day' , then, you comforting her, caressing her cheeks until it turns out into a hot makeout session Inside of her cabin.

you and clarrise would get multiple violation warnings from chiron, but little to none from Mr. D who even had the nerve to point out one of your hickeys.

--

It was another day in camp half blood, and your job was to teach younger campers how to handle a sword.

"Hold the sword properly— No no no. Not like that Jerry—"

"MY name's Gary—"

"Same thing"

" Grip it tightly, and swing it to your opponent, now there's a trick, you can maim so that they lose their focus and then you can attack...." While you kept teaching the children who looked at you with their puppy eyes, Clarisse watched you from afar, Her lips curled into a soft, patent smile. Of course, you caught her eyes and winked, leaving her blushing madly.

It wasn't even 2 minutes before five of the kids you were teaching started giggling to each other and whispering coherently.

You looked back at them with your browser raised.

"Is something funny?" You asked.

"Nothing!"

——

"You're gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous," Clarrise whispered as her lips trailed down your neck, A soft moan escaped from your lips as you caught a small smirk gracing her lips.

Her face was full of lipstick marks, including her neck that almost looked like a graffiti wall with your maroon lipstick staining her neck.

"Please give me more—"

You gasped and flinched as you heard three loud knocks on the door.

Clarisse, who was kissing the valley of your breasts shot a look to the door, She muttered a string of curses under her breath and immediately stormed after the one who dared to interrupt her and her lovely girlfriend...But no one knows that you two were in a relationship.

"No, NO! Clarisse-"

Before you could even grab her, she swung the door open, Her eyes glaring at the person with rage.

But, surprisingly. No one was there, You were greeted by the cool midnight breeze.

Clarrise muttered another string of curses before slamming the door shut and cupping your cheeks, Kissing you passionately again.

At that moment, you coulve sworn you saw a familiar silhouette hiding from the distance peaking at you and clarrise, brushing your thoughts aside. You kept kissing her until you reached her bed bunk.

——

The next day was a mess.

Campers looked at you like you were some prey. Something was odd.

as you sat at the mess hall, trying to scan the crowd for your friends but they weren't there.

As soon as the Ares girl stepped into the mess hall, you immediately knew why people stared at you two, One of clarrise's half siblings decided to play a prank on her but instead caught you two in a rather...private moment.

As you watch clarrise's half sibling smirk, your eyes catch the sight that everyone sees.

The Scarlet Mark of your maroon lipstick on her neck.

A/N: Hey loves!! This is a short clarisse FF since I wrote this in a rush (don't ask why) :P, Since we don't have more of Dior's clarrise I decided to write this one!! <333 I hope you like it, and don't be afraid to submit a request!!

[izzabela]

white noise - audio 1

a/n: I just wanted to drop in and say....THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING THE ORIGINAL IDEA SO HARD GUYS!!! special thanks to @junovae , @red5tars , @devil-in-hiding , and @beloveds-embrace for boosting and hyping my idea up. i've been letting this marinate in my head for a long time, and I'm so glad that it's well-received :)

please please PLEASE enjoy guys, i worked really hard to make sure this was a perfect first chapter :>

"What on God's green Earth do you think you're doing with this schedule!?" your boss's words flying to you as fast as the papers he threw off the side his desk.

As the assortment of schedules, checks, files, and folders rain down like snow, you simply look at your boss with a cool smile and dead eyes. You've dealt with things like this before, the same tantrums over and over again with a man who's still growing up at forty-five.

The sun was setting over the New York City skyline, and you've just about had it for the day. It's been thirty minutes since your allotted time to clock out, and this man-child is still holding you up like a baby with his pacifier.

"Sir, you have a meeting with XYZ's CEO stand-in Friday morning," you calmly explain to the toddler as you pick up his mess. "That same day, you have a lunch on Wall Street with Mr. Allen in regard to the upcoming acquisition to one of your sub-companies."

Without breaking a sweat (but most definitely popping a blood vessel), you continue to give reasonable excuses for your choice in scheduling.

"And on that same day, sir, your presence is requested at your brother's residence, to celebrate his third engagement," you finish, giving him a good once-over to see how he's doing. "Speaking of, did you purchase that Rolex I linked you? I had sent you a message via work-phone with the exact link."

He's matting his poorly-worn toupee wig down and coughing profusely.

100-0, you tally your mental game you've been keeping track of.

As you grab the last piece of paper, ironically the one with his Friday schedule, you place the stack back on the center of his desk. There's enough force pressed down that his name plaque jumps (maybe in fear for your wrath too).

"Do you have any other questions sir? Or am I free to go home?" you smile tightly, hands neatly over themselves on your belly.

"Y-you're free to leave," he pulls his necktie nervously, beads of sweat on his forehead and palms as his butter-fingers attempt to fix his tie.

You nod, keeping the tight smile all the way past the threshold of his office, past the snarky bitch of a front-desk woman, and all the way to the elevator.

"Good afternoon, Pumps," the elevator-doorman greets you. "Long day in the office?"

"An understatement, George..." you sigh, rubbing your temples in circles to soothe an incoming headache.

George was probably your only peace in this hellscape of an office: kind demeanor, soft voice, manners, it seems the bar is below the ground with how poorly people behave here in your office.

It's silent on the way down, the light jazz of the elevator music filling the conversation-less space.

Ding

George's gloved hand presses the open door button, and you mosey on out with a little falter in your step.

"Take a rest, Pumps. Lord knows what will happen if you leave that man to his devices," he humors, earning your chuckle as you give him one more wave before walking past the front desk of the main entrance and into the revolving doors.

You spin in the revolving doors for a mere moment before getting spat out back on the street. You'd think that the sunset would help soothe your growing pain, but the streets come to life with blaring neon lights and flickering street lamps.

This is New York City after all.

Slapping your shades on and plugging your earphones in, you begin the trek home. Your houlders slumped and legs dragging like an army man coming home from deployment, you mindlessly listen to your de-stress playlist to try and relax before heading home. You don't think the pain of your head will leave until Siri reads a notification.

A NEW POST FROM GHOST PLUS A LONG MESSAGE, WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO READ IT?

Suddenly all your pain felt nonexistent, and you've regained bounce in your step once again. Your favorite voice actor posted, and a long notification means scripted content.

You discovered him, a VA named "Ghost" after scrolling through Reddit for a bit. The nation of subgroups and communities, you found your forever home with him after a ramble fap of his after a stressful day of work a couple of years ago.

Enamored by his husky voice, low timbre of his throat, and his British accent, you learned he had more than just Reddit. You didn't think you'd be addicted, but after exhausting his master-list on Reddit, you decide to follow his links to other places.

Other than his fifty-thousand on Reddit, he has one-hundred thousand on Youtube for his SFWs and one million on TFCo (the audio company he belongs to)- and when you saw his exclusive content? Well, you just had to get your hands on it all. Not to mention he's a successful voice acting career in audio books (you've bought those solely because he voices some of the characters).

And if one thinks this is degenerate, try working for a man who can't think for himself- you'd do anything to decompress and relax.

Which is where you are in the present, picking up your pace to head back to your house so you can relax with the voice that makes you delusional.

The walk felt like a marathon, but you finally made it to the lobby of your apartment. You don't even need to push the door open when they swing inwards for you, accompanied by another familiar voice.

"'Notha long day, Pumps?" a thick Yankee accent rings in your ears. You offer a bright smile, trying to hide the fact your leg muscles have been screaming at you all day.

You take your earphones out. "Nothin' I can't handle, Tony," you describe your day in a mere two words. He only sighs and shakes his head, offering to walk you all the way to the elevator.

Tony looks at you funny, "Can't fool me, lil' miss," he scolds. "Your calves are twitchin', 'ich means you need a good 'n long bath."

You chuckle, "You got it Thomas. Warm bath and sleep."

You hear a faint "atta girl" as you step into the elevator, and his figure disappears behind the silver walls as you go up to another battle.

Ding

The doors part, and you hear the echo of your shoes bounce off the walls as you near your flat door. Lost in the sea of your stuff, your keys probably lost in the void called "your purse," you hear a shuffle and a click of another door opening.

Out walks the guy that moved in right next door. You watch with a glare, eyeing him like someone eyes a stain on their clothes. He wears the same black trousers, black t-shirt topped with a black jacket with his head hooded, and that stupid black face mask with the lower part of a skull.

"Evenin' Simon," you begrudgingly greet. He turns towards you, also eyes you head to toe, and nods.

You do everything in your power to hold yourself back from strangling him.

Simon always struck you as odd: didn't talk to anyone, wore black (and black only), and dressed poorly. Everyone who lived in this side of NYC came from daddy's money, mommy's trust fund, or a mix of both. You took his apprehension in talking as introversion, so you tried to make your presence (and support) known from afar.

In the first month he moved in, you tried to strike up conversation whenever you'd see him leave or enter his room. Just like he did now, he'd offer nothing but a simple glance-over and a sizing, eyeing up and down like a child.

Over the next couple of months, you tried peace offerings of food and snacks. From homemade meals, to little snacks and munchies, you left them at his doorstep for him to grab by himself. You're pretty sure he hated them, usually finding nothing left on your door.

(Unbeknownst to you, Simon ate everything of yours to the bone- no crumbs left).

Since his initial move-in, you've counted that it'll be almost a year since he moved next door to you. God found you his strongest soldier with the way you remained so patient with him and his disdain for others.

One thing you haven't let go, though, was the noise he made late in the night. Whatever he missed in the day (which is usually 100% of noise he never made in the day), he'd make it up tenfold deep into the night. Sometimes you hear him curse loudly, or the annoying creak of his bed slamming into his wall. There were even moments where you've heard him laugh like a villain, before he'd goes back to letting curses wring out like water from a wash rag.

You've really tried to be patient with him, but juggling between a fool of a boss and an ignorant man, you felt it chip away at you like weathered stone.

You make your frustration clear, shuffling the stuff in your bag a bit louder, hoping that he'd get the memo, but he walks past you like a speck of dirt- unnoticed and left behind. Finding your flat key, you groan as you twist, unlock, and make it inside your apartment. You drop everything in the hallway, kick your heels off, and crash on your couch.

Usually you'd take this time to scroll through Instagram, catch up with messages you missed, or simply flip through Netflix to find the perfect show, but all you craved right now is sleep, a shower, and food (maybe a bit of wine too).

"Get to it, Pumps," you scold yourself, pushing yourself off the plush cushions. "For George and Tony..."

Seems your doorman and elevator-man were right, a hot shower does wonders. Though you came out of the shower a bit dazed, at least you were relaxed now. Your stomach wasn't, though, as it grumbled angrily.

"Yeah yeah, I heard ya," you mumbled, opening up your fridge to find it empty and sad (was that a fly leaving?). You curse and make a mental note for groceries tomorrow after work.

"Ramen will do just fine," you answer yourself, walking to the pantry to grab an instant pack to cook.

It's nice and quiet as you cook your noodles, the faint sounds of the city traffic sounding more like a lullaby than record scratch. You look over to your side as you stir your pot, the floor-to-ceiling windows allowing full view of the Empire State building, park, and the other buildings in the area.

Taking the pot off the stove, you carefully place it over a pot holder and grab a bowl. Pouring the soup and noodles in, you multitask and check anymore notifications you missed through the day, and the one from a couple of hours ago is first in line. The TFCo notification banner is calling your name, and you press it immediately to see what's new with your man, "Ghost."

The notification read an announcement for a new exclusive drop, a werewolf!shifter! in rut taking his pretty bunny!shifter in heat, and the tags filled your belly with butterflies: primal play, chase, CNC, shifters, and a mean!ghost tag- the list is filled with dirty tropes that make your core tighten and panties damp.

You're tempted to drop everything and fall victim to your desires, but ignoring your stomach felt like a bad omen in the making (and another earful from Tony would not be good). Besides, it was on your phone- you can wait.

Enjoying the loaded sodium soup of your ramen, you do some more doom scrolling on some other accounts and socials of VAs you follow. You occasionally listen to Soap Dish, a Scot with a fiery temper and even hotter audios, you listen to him when you want something goofy or silly. Occasionally though, he'll drop a great CNC, mean audio that really gets you heated.

Then there's Gazzandgoo (Gaz for short), another British VA with great all-around content. Ranging from mean BDSM audios to him whimpering and subbing, you enjoy Gaz's flexibility and range with his voice. A guilty pleasure of yours is his whimpering and sub audios (high powered job needs equal amounts of destress right?).

Slurping the last of your soup down, you didn't realize the time left you as your phone's clock read "eleven thirty" (was the doom-scroll that bad this time around?). Doesn't matter since it's officially "you time"- where only you, your search history, and the government knows what you're doing tonight.

After a quick rinse and toss of your bowl and utensils in your dishwasher, you dig for your headphones from your bag so you can indulge. Scooping it out, along with some papers, hair pins, and business cards, you leave the mess for tomorrow as you enter your room. Pictures of your friends, the few family you had in contact, diploma, and posters judge you as you get into bed and in a comfortable position.

Leaning back, headphones in, you press the notification of the TFCo app and watch your phone light up with the direct audio link of Ghost and his latest content.

There's lots of sound effects as the audio plays, the script being very in depth. You hear the rustling of leaves and grass, the billowing breeze, and the faintest noise of pebbles rolling over each other. The image of a forest is painted in your mind, and the painting gains a new addition with the sound of ragged breathing.

"Ah.... fuck..." the recording of Ghost's voice is in the background as you hear his groans and moans grow closer.

You close your eyes and let yourself go in the audio, imagining Ghost's werewolf character pouncing on top of you.

"'N what's this pretty bunny doin' here?" he muses in your ears. "Wandered on the wrong side of the forest, huh? Stupid fucking bun..."

Your legs twist and close, the friction of your panty fabric and your legs pressing together getting you worked up. Imagining what Ghost looks like, what he feels like, is sending you into overdrive as he continues to speak in your headphones.

"You look fucking delicious," he groans, and you shiver as you hear the sound effects of his hands running across a toy he uses for a body. "So soft, so fucking perfect. Gonna be a meal for me?"

You dumbly reply to the emptiness of your room, and your cheeks blush as Ghost groans again.

"You sound so cute begging for your life. How 'bout a deal?" he eggs you on, and you nod once again.

"If you can outrun me and make it out the forest, you get your life," he offers the first half of his wager.

He chuckles, "The other part? That's easy, isn't it bun?" you hear him brush over his mic to get real close. "If you can't, you'll be my meal."

"On the count of three. One, two," your chest is rising and falling quickly, the anticipation of what he'll do pushing you to the edge. "Go."

The sound effects of your character running through the grass, hopping and sprinting in order to stay alive. You cave and shove your hands down under the waistband of your panties, fingers flicking over your sensitive bud as you can hear Ghost grow closer and closer.

You hear the sounds of Ghost wrestling, noises of foliage and nature bending and breaking under you. The audio paints the picture of you pinned under Ghost, and his maniacal laughter rolls through your ears thanks to binaural headphone settings.

"Pathetic," he spits out at your futile escape. "Were you even trying?"

It sounds like Ghost was sniffing you, his inhalations close to the mic as he comments on your scent. You can also hear the sfx of him reaching down and to your aching pussy.

"Oh... maybe you weren't trying bunny," he teases, the audio effects of pussy squelching invading your ears. "Maybe you wanted this- wanted to get lost, caught, and eaten alive by the big bad wolf..."

You whimper, circles over your little clit growing faster and needier as his voice rings through your mind. "Beg me for your life- 'please don't eat me, Mr. Wolf'- beg me nice 'n proper..."

The squelching grows more obscene, and you can't tell if that's your own cunt or the toy he's using in the audio. It doesn't matter though, as the sounds of wet pussy stop, and you hear a shift in weight and position.

"I take it back- no need to beg when your cunt is drenched, bun," he teases, and you're so sure his cock in tapping the entrance of the toy that represents you.

"What? Scared? 'Fraid my cock's gonna hurt?" he asks, and you respond with a sad keen (ironic, since your fingers are working overtime for you to reach your peak).

Suddenly, a deep grumble and "oh fuck" is heard, and you realize Ghost is stuffing you full in the audio. You moan a little louder, slipping a single finger in, curling it to make sure it hits your spot just right.

Perverted sounds of Ghost's cock bullying the toy he uses to represent his listeners fill your ears, and the sounds of said toy smashing into his hips add sprinkles of erotica as you imagine yourself getting stuffed full of him. Lost in your own pleasure, you squeeze your eyes tight as you focus on reaching your finish.

You must've wandered a little too far in your imagination as you didn't feel your earbuds fall of your ears. The audio is no longer heard for you, but you can't tell when you're riding off of your imagination (and maybe the faint audio that's coming from the earbuds, since they're on full blast).

You're drawn out of your lust as the earbuds fall like marbles on your hardwood floors. Immediately, your hand flies away from your aching sex, and you see the buds lay pitifully on the floor. You groan, borderline sulking over the fact something so simple drew you away from your peak.

As you reach for your tech, your ears catch on to another noise. It's coming past your bedroom walls, and it sounds a lot like the audio you're listening to right now.

"Such a good girl f'r me..." the voice groans, a strangled moan escaping the lips of your neighbor and entering your ears.

"He sounds so familiar...." you whisper to yourself, and the next line he grunts out pieces all of the issues you've had with him together.

"You wanted this, didn'tcha? Takin' all 'f me like a dumb slag, but'cha wanted this didn'tcha?"

"You like this, don't ya?" he annunciates, semi-muffled noises of a pocket-pussy getting stretched out like actual cunt floating into your ears.

Every ounce of arousal has left your body as your braincells fire and connect the dots, and you swear you can hear the sounds of bells echoing in your brain.

"Ghost" is Simon, and Simon is "Ghost."

And "Ghost" is your neighbor.

ding ding ding

[cherubfae]

𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔶 𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔫, 𝔟𝔞𝔟𝔶 {𝔩𝔢𝔬𝔫 𝔨𝔢𝔫𝔫𝔢𝔡𝔶}

Happy Halloween, my loves! And a blessed Samhain to my fellow pagans! Please have a safe and lovely holiday no matter what you do or don't celebrate! Now then, care to spend some time with Mr. Kennedy? Please, mind the tags! Thank you!! (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

|| 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐁𝐅𝐀𝐄'𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ||

tags: ghostface!RE4!Leon, fem!reader, masturbation, voyeurism, unprotected sex, fear/domination roleplay, consensual, fake home invasion scenario, Leon is kinda mean, dirty talk, pet names, breeding kink, perverted call trope, killer x victim trope, consensual dubcon (just in case), predator/prey dynamics, dumbification, dacryphilia, aftercare

"Bend over, sugar. I wanna see that pretty little pussy." The modified voice growled with a fiery hunger. The stranger's words made you wet soooo easily. You shift forward, hiking up your skirt and wiggle your ass in the direction of your window. He growled with pleasure, breathing trembling. Faint slick noises echo from the mysterious caller's line. Was he...?

"Yeah.. Fuck.. Look at that cunt. You're so sweet, doll. Your panties barely cover your pretty lil' pussy lips... Just beggin' for a fat, thick cock inside ya, huh?" The man snarled. "Say it. I wanna hear my pretty prey beg me to fuck her."

Heat rises to your cheeks, your teeth worrying at your lip. "P-please, mister... Please, come fuck me. I wanna feel you stretch me open."

"Fuckkkkkk..." He drew out the word with a deep, breathy growl. You could practically feel his breath tremble through the receiver. Curiously, you seem to find yourself grinning at the conversation. Hell. You were enjoying it. You liked the idea of this stranger jerking off to you. You wanted to be used by him. Defiled.

The old floorboards creaked behind you. "Don't mind if I fuckin' do, dollface."

You quickly turn with wide eyes, blinking rapidly at the sudden imposing male in your living room. The rubber mask he wore was shrouded in black, like a hood, the face was stretched in a ghoulish, eternal scream. The empty black eyes were soulless and terrifyingly hot. Through the thin silver of mesh that covered the eyeholes, you could barely make out stormy ocean eyes; the pupils large and black.

The rest of his attire wasn't too impressive, but his stature was. Broad shoulders and muscular arms stretched the polyester inky robe taut, well defined pectorals and, fuck, even his abdomen was perfectly sculpted. Every hard angle of him outlined against the slightly shimmery fabric like tiny silver stars splashed onto a pitch black night sky.

"Fuck, you look even sweeter in person." His head cocks to the side, huffing deeply through the mask. He lowered his face to you, the mask cool against your heated skin. "Looks like I caught myself a willing pup."

Heavy, wet smacks of the masked stranger's swollen balls thudding against your ass rings round and round in your ears. Tears drip down your cheeks, your thighs burning under the strain of having them tucked to your chest for so long. You vaguely hear him chuckle cruelly, his large hand keeping you pinned to the coffee table--which had been nearest surface.

"Fuck, look at ya, doll. You're not gonna be able to see just how I wide I'm stretchin' ya if you cry too much... Not that I mind one fuckin' bit. You're the real Halloween treat, aintcha? Sweeter than any candy." He pressed his mask face against your heated cheeks, the rubber cool on your skin.

You're almost painfully lying at an angle against the low wooden table, unable to think of anything but his impossibly thick cock pistoning in and out of your wet channel. You've gone numb to your own lewd noises, you crying, your moans, the wet squelch of your pussy. Faintly, you can hear the wood creak and groan beneath the added weight.

Slowly, your eyes lift to the stranger, your mind clouded with a dense fog, slowly dragging them down the muscular outline of his shoulders and torso, to where he'd yanked up the hem of his robe and bared the slightly tanned, taut muscular skin of his stomach and his neatly trimmed pubic mound; the girth of his flushed cock a centerpiece in the course curls of ashen blond hair.

The stranger's muscles flex tightly, too enraptured in his own movements to notice your stare. The hazy, lustful admiration you send his way. He'd pulled his cock free from his pants. Of average length, beautifully flushed, and already glistening with pre. His cock was deliciously thick and heavy. Like it weighed him down. Like it hurt to be gifted such a perfect cock.

He fits inside of you so well. It's overwhelming in the most pleasing of ways, how he seemed to be able to stroke places inside of you that you'd never seemed to reach. The second he slipped inside, you knew you were a goner.

Sound rushes back and crashes into you like a tidal wave, like you'd been plugged back in. Your moans and sobs bounce off the walls of your living room. The stranger's laugh resounds in your ears, pulling you out of your own mind for a second.

"Pftt.. You even moan like a little slut, don't you? Hear now needy this puffy pussy is for me? Pathetic, princess, really... If I had been any other killer, would you have put out for them as easily as you did for me? No?" He mocked the last word, breath coming out in deep, shuddering pants. "Tell me why I don't believe you, princess."

Swallowing thickly, you arch upwards into him, loosely rolling your hips to meet his pounding thrusts. "No one... No one makes me feel this good, Mr. Ghostface, sir..."

"Ghostface?" The stranger cooed, full of faux sweetness. "Oh, I like that. I think I'll use that for the next pretty kitty I spray against the walls. Why the long face? Nothin' to get upset about. This is the only cunt I am interested in." He bowed over your body, hips snapping with visceral force.

You grunt, eyes closing as his cock repeatedly nudges at your cervix. "Everyone else is swine as far as I'm concerned. But you, sugar, you're the real fuckin' deal. Gonna make me marry you, huh? Is that it? Gonna make a filthy fuckin' killer marry you because of you and your sweet pussy?"

Everything was starting to feel a bit too much. He was hitting a bit too deep, talking a bit too much, and your mind was spinning like a top, way too fast, and about to topple over.

A pained whine leaves your lips faster than you realize and you feel the man above you stutter, his movements stilling for a second as he looks down at you; deep blue eyes more visible in the soft glow of the table lamp. His facade was slipping, little by little.

He's waiting, you realize, waiting silently for you to give him the go ahead. Asking a million questions with just one look at his crystalline eyes. You nod your head, feeling a bit like jelly with how numb your legs have gotten.

"Words." His tone brooked no argument. Swallowing thickly, you shift up the table a little. Your bare, sweaty skin squeaking against the polished wood.

Managing a soft, reassuring smile, you nod again. "You can move, Leon. I'm okay."

With a fierce growl, Leon yanked off the mask, his hair sweaty and disheveled, and scooped you up and off the table, carrying you through the hall towards your bedroom. The mask lay forgotten on the sofa cushions.

Curling into his embrace, you softly nuzzle him noting how your roles were most definitely forgotten by this point. Leon wasn't fond of accidentally hurting and even in roleplay, he would never do so intentionally.

"M'not gonna risk that again." Your boyfriend grumbled, tucking your head under his chin. "We're gonna do something different, baby."

"Okay, honey." You nuzzle him, sweetly. He looked down at you with a slight smile, his eyes visibly softening and pupils slowly widened. "I really was okay though."

"I know. But that was more than enough for me." Leon grunted next to your ear and splayed his warm palm across your back. Your delicious cunt is still snuggled tight around his thick length, every jostle sinking you down deeper.

Kicking the bedroom door open, his heavy stomping echoes as he hurls his boots off of his feet and settles your naked body atop the crisp sheets. Holding himself above you.

"I'm gonna make it up to you. Gonna let me taste you, baby?" Cupping your cheek in his large hand, his touch is sweet and reverent. You smile and lean into his touch, giving him a little nod. Leon's lips quirk upwards. "Good."

Leon kisses a trail between your breaths, mapping out a path across your skin. His lips slide gently over your stomach and finally lower to your aching core. Parting your folds with two fingers, he dives in.

He's a messy eater. Lapping and sucking and moaning against your skin, furiously swiping the tip of his tongue against your bundle of nerves; two fingers knuckle deep inside of you the entire time, curling into a language 'come here' motion. And you know he won't be stopping any time soon.

It seems like hours have passed when Leon pulls himself from your warm cunt. He replaced his tongue and fingers with his cock. The soft, plush tip sliding to part your lower lips for him, gathering your spilling nectar with a rapt moan.

"This pussy was made f'me, wasn't it, baby?" Leon looked down at you tenderly. Easing his hips forward, it's not long before his thick length sinks into you fully. Leon settles into an easy push-pull motion, rocking himself into you. His hand grappled for your hip, hiking your leg slowly to rest on his shoulder. And then the other one.

The bed rocks and creeks violently under the animalistic motions. Leon's snarling is borderline feral, you have half a mind to wonder if he was actually a werewolf this year. Round, heavy balls snap wetly against your ass and the coarse hairs surrounded dick feel like heaven as he fucks you dumb.

"Give it to me... come on, baby. I know you got in ya." Leon stroked his hand down your tummy to toy with your wet clit. Making tight, quick circles, Leon sends you careening off the edge and crying out his name.

With a loud shout, Leon's hips snap flush to yours. He's cumming, cumming, cumming. Cock throbbing as he gives you every last pent-up drop he has to offer. Until you're dripping in his seed and it overflows; leaking out of your poor, soft hole. Sweeping his tip across your clit, Leon prolongs both your pleasure for a couple more seconds. His softened cock slides between your folds, guiding himself back in to feel your nice, warm heat around him once again.

"Did it feel okay? It wasn't too much?" Leon asked, gently running a warm washcloth between your thighs. He tenderly cleans away every drop of your combined fluids. Aftercare was something he enjoyed just as much as the main act itself. "I felt like, maybe, that I was getting a little too into it at times..."

"No, no, I'm so glad you had fun. I promise I had fun too. I was a little sad that we ended it so early into the evening." You smile and shake your head. "It was perfect. You were perfect. Thank you for trying it out with me."

Leon chuckled, the corner of his lip crooking into a smile. Leaning down to you, he kisses your head and gently runs his knuckles down your cheek. He finished up and helped you slip into some extra comfortable pyjamas. It was still Halloween for a few more hours.

"Well, maybe we'll continue it next year?" A hint of hopefulness glimmered from his words. Guess the tough-guy agent really did enjoy letting loose and being the big, bad guy sometimes. Especially if it meant he was balls-deep inside of you.

You lay back among the strewn pillows and messy sheets, humming in agreement. Leon settles against your side on his tummy, propping his chin on your shoulder.

"I didn't realize ghosts were non-binary."

Leon's statement came completely out of the blue. You snicker softly and look at your boyfriend confused. Raising a brow, you motioned for him to continue. "I'm sorry-- they what?"

He grinned, "Ghosts. No matter their gender they're all wearing dresses!" He waggled his eyebrows, clearly impressed with his joke.

You groan, tossing your head back in mock exasperation. "Leonnn!"

Leon's laughter echoed throughout the house, full of mirth, more than content to be in his own little bubble with you while the town enjoyed the hauntingly fun festivities.

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[antidesire]

12:59 antidesire

not another vendetta/id!leon post.. wuh oh. thank you for 500 followers ♡

f!reader x dbf!leon, 18+ only. reader wears a bikini, a skirt and some makeup, alcohol consumption, reader is 21+, leon is pushing 40. size kink!!, praise, leon calls reader good girl, baby girl, little one, small, reader calls leon daddy like a couple times, reader is very eager to please, a lot of dirty talk, cunnilingus, p in v, creampie. this is purely fictional always use protection and practice safe sex. 4.5k+ of filfth, probably more rushed and messy than it should be not sure how i feel about it, i apologise.

leon s. kennedy,

you only knew of the older man from your father, the two had met during a pub crawl one night, and your father was quite the talker, giving him the rundown on all the best liquors, telling him all kinds of crazy stories about his life (nothing compared to mr. kennedy) and all the trouble he got in to in his younger days, so the two hit it off like a house on fire and suddenly leon kennedy was a part of your father's friend group despite being younger compared to your father, he seemed to relate a lot to him (his entire tab being paid for by his new friend probably helped too).

you were used to it, how sociable your father was, he always made time to enjoy his weekends, whether it be out on the town or inside, and that day was scorching hot so he had decided a garden party was the only option, it seemed silly not to what with the pool in the back yard and a barbeque grill.

with a group message to all his and your mother's friends, the plans were set.

you wouldn't say you were being promiscuous or inappropriate- not on purpose, surely never. it just so happened that your favourite bikini was on the skimpier side, a little triangular bra and thong, and in a colour that complimented your skin strikingly well, some heart sunglasses for some contrast, cute- that's what you'd call it, cute.

did your mom's friends approve? absolutely not, whispering their outrage and shock under their breaths, sending glares over to their husbands, it did make you laugh.

your mom might've cared, and your dad as well- too bad they were already more than tipsy by the time their guests arrived.

the water felt so warm thanks to the sun beaming down on the garden, with your butt perched on the edge of the pool you dangled your legs inside the cool water as you leaned back on your palms, basking in the rays.

"leon!" you heard your father call out in excitement and your head whipped around, you'd never heard of a leon before. "it's so good to see you man, how have you been?"

leon was gorgeous, and that was to put things modestly. he didn't look as old as your other father's friends and good lord he was a hundred times sexier than any of them.

his hair was dark, not too long, but you noticed one side swept over his eye. he had partial stubble along his chin and upper lip, and his dark locks contrasted with his icy blue eyes.

suddenly you were the one ogling, sunglasses tipped down the length of your nose, determined to know more about this leon.

sloshing of the water turned your dad’s attention back to you, encouraging you over to meet his friend, “this is my daughter,” your dad told leon your name before introducing him to you.

“it’s nice to meet you leon.” you smiled, holding out your hand politely to which he shook and you could’ve sworn you saw a smile tugging at his lips.

“it’s nice to meet you too.” he nodded, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes swiftly grazed over your body before distracting himself with the bottle in his hands, “i come bearing gifts.”

you watched from afar when your mother called you into the kitchen to aid her in preparing some food that couldn’t be handled on the grill your father was cooking in, “mama, does leon have a wife?” you blurted out the question before you could even swish it around in your head a little longer.

“hmm, I don’t think so, why’s that?” she laughed, tossing some salad and dressing in a bowl.

“m’ just wondering, dad’s other friends all do.” you hummed, shrugging to make it seem less suspicious.

the food went down well, even better with the delicious cocktails you and your mom whipped together earlier, a delicious buzz whirling throughout your body that had you up and moving towards the kitchen to grab another one.

“you got a spare glass? smashed mine.” you heard a voice call out, jolting in surprise, head bumping the cabinet above you,

“shit.” you cursed under your breath, hand flying up to rub the top of your head, glancing back to see it was the older man you had your eyes on earlier.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you.” he laughed, footsteps coming closer, “you alright?” a cold but firm grasp was suddenly at your waist, an excuse to lean in and observe the ‘damage’.

oh god, you could smell his cologne, musky and expensive, “i’m good, you didn’t scare me- well, you did a little, but it’s fine.” wow, real smooth.

you could almost feel the vibrations in his chest when he chuckled, you had to lean back against the counter to distance the two of you, your face furrowing in confusion when he only got closer, hand reaching up above your head, “they up here?” he gestured towards the cabinet above your head.

was he toying with you right now?

“t-they’re all the way at the back, we used most of em’ already.” you mumbled, barely loud enough for him to hear, “let me check.” you spoke up before twirling yourself around, your hands pushing yourself upwards to go on your tippy toes so you could reach the glass at the back.

you purposefully shoved your ass back against him, back arched to give him a nice view of the expanse of your bare back, small strings of your bikini high on your hips, you were just generous like that. you feigned innocence as you felt around for a few more seconds, “ah-ha!” you cooed, plucking the glass down and turning yourself back to face him, “here you are.” you smiled, tapping the rim of the glass against his chest as his eyes hung a little lower on your body.

“thank you, sweetheart.” his fingertips grazed yours before taking the glass from you, your eyes dashing down to his hand, noticing blood.

“you cut yourself.” you jut your bottom lip out into a pout, extending your arm to grab his wrist and pull him over to the bathroom, glass in his hand long forgotten about.

"it's just from where the glass smashed, it's not a big deal." he was trying to brush it off but you were already grabbing the first aid kit before he could finish his sentence.

"let me look at it under the light." you encouraged him closer as you put yourself up until you were sat on the sink, first aid kit on your lap.

the light from the cabinet above the sink did make it easier to see the cut, it also made it easier to notice how slender his fingers were, veins running all the way up his bulky arms, disappearing under his black compression shirt he wore, "you're not warm like that by the way?" you glanced up from his hand, referring to his shirt, "you can join me in the pool after." you cooed, voice overly sweet as you dabbed some disinfectant on his cut, grabbing a bandaid next.

leon shook his head, a small chuckle leaving his lips, "i'm not sure your parents would appreciate that." oh, were you too obvious? oops.

your eyes rolled at that, legs swaying in the air back and forth as the rip of the paper from the bandaid could be heard in the silence, your nimble fingers pushing the dressing around the cut securely before giving his hand a squeeze to gesture that you were done.

a small sigh escaped your lips as your head leaned back against the cabinet, still perched pretty on top of the sink, your thighs looked plush and soft like this and the way the glitter from your lipgloss sparkled under the light was like its own little spell, a cautious one.

but you, you threw all caution to the wind now he voiced acknowledgment about your little games, your eyes dragged shamelessly over him, twiddling the string of your bikini panties between your fingers, "d'you not wanna touch me?" you spoke quietly.

you heard leon exhale before you felt his fingertips at your lower thighs, pushing them open so he could step closer, “you’re not playing fair.” his head tilted, fingers pinching at the soft flesh of your thighs, “you do this with all your dad’s friends, huh?”

you hummed out, your hand placing on top of his and pushing it even higher up your thigh, “i’m not normally like this, you’re special.” you cooed out, leaning in towards his ears, “i pinky promise.”

you yelped when his fingers pulled the elastic of your panties back until it snapped back against your skin, “aah.” you shivered, legs raising to clench either side of his hips.

"i won't tell anyone." you whined, rubbing your thighs against him to distract the lingering stinging sensation.

the way you sweetened your voice and fluttered your eyelashes had him reeling closer, so close you could feel his hot breath at your neck, smell the scent of sweat on him from the hot scorching day.

your fingers trailed upwards, pushing at his shirt until he grasped firmly at your wrists, shoving them out of the way, “if i got you here, i wanna do things my way.” he spoke directly, eyebrow raised as he looked for what seemed like your confirmation, to which you gave him a prompt nod, perhaps a little eagerly.

“good girl.” two simple words and your stomach was doing somersaults, all the blood rushing straight to your cheeks. it sounded like pure honey falling from his lips, sweeter than the cocktails you had previously enjoyed.

leon didn’t miss the way the little pet name clearly had you dazed either, he was quite attentive, fingers grazing back and forth over the goosebumps on your thigh whilst the other was placed at your chin, thumb rubbing along your jaw, "you're such a pretty little thing, your old man told me he had a beautiful, smart daughter at home.. i should've believed him more, i shouldn't have come." he snickered, shaking his head.

"it's too late for that now." you huffed, knocking your head to his and catching his lips until they meshed with yours, feeling his stubble graze your skin, igniting pulses of desire straight between your legs.

he didn't bite, you only felt him relax a little into the kiss before pushing himself away with an expression you couldn't read on his face, "you're making it hard to think straight."

you laughed at that, "don't think at all, that's what i like to do." you winked, "just do what feels good." you giggled and leon could feel his heart skip a beat, you were so damn cute.

"fuck.." he threw his head back, chuckling at the situation he found himself in. when his attention was back on you he noticed your fingers between your legs, rubbing your fingers against your clothed pussy.

"mh-mh," he shook his head, swatting away your hand, "let me take care of you, sweetheart." he breathed out, fingers tucking under your panties, dragging them all the way down before flinging them somewhere on the floor, long forgotten about along with his sense of morals.

you whimpered at the feeling of cold porcelain on your bare skin, feeling your pussy brush against it when he pushed your thighs open, "s-shit.." you whimpered.

you almost forgot to keep breathing when you watched him kneel down, taking a position in between your legs, perching them both over his shoulders, fingertips squeezing and rubbing the outside of your thighs, "you don't mind if i'm a little selfish and have a taste first, yeah baby?" he blinked up at you and if the feeling of your thighs already squeezing around his head wasn't enough, maybe the audible moan followed up by a mantra of "yes, yes, yes" was enough.

"you're so cute, you get excited about the littlest things." he observed, leaning in to press wet, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh, stubble scraping along your skin.

"n-no i don't." you tried to deny out of embarrassment, only getting a chuckle of disbelief in response, knowing your body's reactions spoke for itself.

he breathed you in, eyes fluttering shut as his tongue dashed out to lick upwards to your clit, the tip of his tongue circling over the sensitive little nub which had your finger flying in his hair, "ohh, my god.." you mewled, hips already pushing up towards his face for more which he was happy to oblige.

flattening his tongue allowed you to feel him everywhere, every little inch of your cunt being showered with attention, your legs kicking against his upper back until he pulled back, allowing you a second to breathe though he didn't waste it, spitting on your clit and letting the saliva run down your pussy just so he could tongue fuck it inside you.

he had a firm grasp on your thighs now, tongue pressing past your puffy lips and inside you, pushing his tongue further and further, breathing you in until the tip of his nose pushed deliciously against your clit, grinding against it for further friction, "pleasuhh-nghnn," you brokenly moaned, legs trembling either side of him, but he kept going and it was almost embarrassing how sloppy he sounded, eating you out like he was starved, only pulling back when he wanted to pay attention to your poor puffy clit, tongue flicking and prodding before his lips sealed around it, sucking the sensitive little nub into his mouth and groaning which added a mouth-watering vibration, "daddy, please." you gasped out.

you clearly spoke too soon when a sudden knock of someone's fist against the wooden door pulled you out of your bliss.

you could've cried when he pulled away to stand up, pleasure fizzling out into nothing, legs squeezing together to maintain the warmth of where he had been perched, "don't.." you pleaded, grabbing a hold of his arms and pushing him towards you, bare soaked pussy grinding against the belt he had on around his waist.

"leon, you in here?" your father's voice spoke up again, the door handle rattling, leon gave your arm a reassuring squeeze before he plucked your bikini panties off the ground, stuffing them in his pocket and opening the door just wide enough to slip out.

being the gentleman he is, he wiped the residue of glistening saliva and cum from his mouth and chin with the back of his hand before speaking up with an excuse, "sorry, was just cooling down."

you heard your father announce needing help with something that happened in the front yard.

both their footsteps wandered away and you cursed aloud, jumping off the sink and stomping your feet on the floor, why now?!

your head peaked out of the bathroom ever so slightly until you knew the coast was clear, scurrying to your bedroom to pick up your skirt, tugging it up until you were decent enough.

with quick steps you rushed down the stairs only to see everyone in the front yard, “what happened?” you asked your mom.

“steve got a little too drunk and saw the keys still in leon’s bike.. he crashed it into the bush.” she pointed to the damage and your eyes widened, it wasn’t like it was irreversible damage but by the way leon was tugging it out of the branches and accessing things, it didn’t look good either.

“oops..” you whispered under your breath, noticing the panicked man profusely apologising and promising to pay for any damages.

leon didn’t look too concerned though- with all things considered, only brushing the man off and mumbling about how he’ll fix it himself, that no one else should be touching it anymore, as he perches it up, stuffing the keys in his back pocket- alongside your panties.

“i’m sorry man, you always have a place to crash here or we can get you a cab back home, come back for it when you can, don’t stress yourself any further.” your dad tried to fix the situation, patting leon on the back as his other friend looked like a kicked dog, wife in his ear scolding him.

“think i’ll have to crash here, i’ll bring a friend over to help me take it back tomorrow, would rather not let her outta my sight anymore.” he forced out a chuckle.

the night drew in much quicker what with your father’s friends' antics, despite leon trying to play it cool and telling them it was no big deal, clearly, there was some tension which had everyone saying their goodbyes as the sun set and the night grew on.

“darling, can you go grab leon some fresh sheets and pillows for the night?” you heard your dad call out, turning on your feet before leon could even protest.

you hopped up the stairs and towards your room, plucking out your clean strawberry sheets with a matching plush pillow for the older man, happily bringing it down and presenting them to him, “sorry if they’re not your style.” you cooed, eyelashes fluttering at him once again.

“they’re just what i like, don’t worry.” he played along before, two-finger saluting both of your parents goodnight with a thank you as they declared they were going to bed, clearly the alcohol and mood change helping their swift decision to head to bed

“is everything okay?” you followed closely behind him like a puppy dog, bumping into his back when he halted his steps as he reached the living room, throwing the bed sheets on the couch.

“it happened, no point still being angry about it, i can fix it anyway.” he told you, glancing behind his shoulder before turning to face you, arms crossing over his chest as though he was expecting something from you.

“what?” you pouted, looking up at him, doe eyes and puffed out cheeks.

“you can’t leave me alone even after almost getting caught?” his head tilted and suddenly you felt a lot smaller underneath him.

you didn’t know how to respond, part of you was humiliated, the other wanting to bite back, “i was worried!” you whined, fist coming up to hit his chest.

leon laughed, pushing his hair out of his face and walking into you until your knees buckled and you fell back against the couch, “you’re so cute.” you didn’t have time to think, already feeling his thumb push past your lips and settle on your tongue.

“such a pretty little thing.” he sighed out, eyebrows furrowed as he admired every little detail on your face, eyes grazing over your features.

“you want me so bad don’t you sweetheart?” his voice hummed out sweetly, forcing you to nod your head, though you didn’t need to be, willing to do anything he asked of you, waiting at his beckon and call.

“sweet thing.” leon pulled his hand away, grasping the end of his shirt and pulling it over his head, your eyes wasting no time taking in everything you could, the way his muscles were defined, how a light sheen of sweat was sticky on top of his skin and how the trail of dark curly hair lead from his bellybutton down into the waistband of his boxers.

“please..” you whined out, hand going up to squeeze his arm, pulling it until he was touching your neck, dragging it towards your chest.

his eyes lazily followed your movements, fingers tugging under the straps of your bikini bra until the skimpy fabric fell into your lap, “want my skirt off next daddy?” you asked him, head tilted up as your fingers already went towards the zip.

he shook his head, tongue darting out to lick over his bottom lip, admiring your pretty tits and the peek of your thighs under your skirt puddling over your lap, “no no, keep it on, it’s cute.”

his pants came off next, your eyes watching him cup his erection through his boxers, stroking himself on top of the fabric, "lemme help." you shifted closer, tongue licking the outline of him, the texture of the cotton fabric grazing against your tastebuds, licking a trail upwards to the tip of his dick pushing against the fabric.

you let leon push down his boxers, his hard cock slapping back against his chest, standing tall with the tip the prettiest red you had ever seen, glistening with a bead of his pearly precum.

you giggled, leaning in to lick from his balls, upwards his length, tongue feeling the veins running up the underside of him before the muscle reached his tip, kitten licking up the sticky cum whilst his hand rested at the back of your head. pushing you further against him, his other hand gripped at the base of his cock, slapping the tip of himself on your tongue and watching you go cross-eyed.

you let him guide you until the tip of him was pushed past your swollen lips, "mmh, that's it sexy." he groaned out, "you're so sweet, baby, i'd love to have you choking on this cock one day." he chuckled out, feeling you push yourself further down, as though you were proving yourself, hearing your pathetic little sputtering and gagging already.

"be careful little one, s'okay." he stroked the top of your head and you let your throat relax, drool pushing past the corner of your lips and tears stinging at your eyes, "you don't have to take it all, you're only a small thing."

his words were making your fingers curl into his hips, nails dragging down his skin hard enough to decorate him with red marks, you so badly wanted to keep going but you were far too excited, you had lost yourself already trying to impress him, failing but he found it cute, he found everything about you so fucking cute.

"shh, shh.." he hushed you when you pulled your mouth away to speak, thumb flicking away some stray tears that landed on your cheeks, "don't worry about it sweetheart, you make me feel good just sitting there looking so pretty."

you could feel your heart flutter out of your chest, swallowing down any humiliation and need to apologise for the sad attempt of pleasing him with your mouth, you couldn't help it, your head was a little foggy as soon as he started speaking.

you watched as he next lifted his hand up, finger twirling in the air, indicating that he wanted you to turn around, "all fours for me." he helped you maneuver into a comfortable position on the couch, your back arched, head stuffed into the strawberry printed cotton sheets and your legs spread to accommodate leon behind you.

"you have the prettiest little pussy i've ever seen, y'know that?" he uttered behind you, hand squeezing your ass, spreading you open as he pushed himself flush against you, feeling the way your pussy pulse around nothing whilst he teasingly dragged himself back and forth your slippery folds.

"n-need it, need it so bad.." you mewled out, wiggling your ass a little to try and find some friction, your skirt shifting up higher on your waist. you lurched forward suddenly when he pushed his cock inside you without warning, your squeal muffled by the sheets.

"oh.. shit, fuckkkk.." he dragged out his words as he felt your pussy pulsate and contract around him, "holy fuck, you're so- mhfm," he had to cut himself off to take a second, "so fucking tight." he exhaled, hand placing at your lower back where your skirt was, grabbing a fistful of the fabric to help you push back and forth on his cock.

"you gotta be quiet yeah? don't wanna wake your parents up.." he chuckled, hips reeling back before pushing into you again, "imagine the look on your old man's face, finding his sweet daughter fucked stupid by the man he invited into his home." he grunted, pulling you flush against him with the help of his grasp on your skirt.

"poor thing, you can't help it can you baby? you wanted this dick so bad, i don't blame you sweetheart, i really don't." he cooed mockingly as his pace became more consistently deeper and more violent.

drool was pooling on your freshly washed sheets, countless sobs of pleasure and chants of leon's name deafened thanks to your head being stuffed into the couch. you couldn't care about anything he was insinuating, if this was bad then why did it feel sooo good.

you felt a stretch in your shoulder when he grabbed your arm behind your back, pulling it towards him, "that's it, pussy feels so damn good." he groaned much louder than he should've considering what he scolded you before just moments before.

"feels s'good!" you sobbed out. you could feel his hips slapping against your thighs and your ass, you could hear it every time he drilled his fat cock into you, incoherent babbling against the sheets and fat tears rolling down your cheeks, growing closer and closer each time he shoved himself down your dripping cunt.

"right there? yeah, i know you like that dick, can feel you fucking squeezing me back in every time i'm not deep in your guts." he laughed out euphorically, feeling as though you were driving him crazy, he'd never been this dumbfounded over pussy before.

"in—" you squealed out, legs trembling, "inside! o-oh my fughnnn, cum inside!" you blubbered out desperately, fingers clawing at the sheets underneath you, no regard for your volume, far too gone.

your breath was heaving and you couldn't stop the constant squeals of joy and tears flowing as your body shivered with pure bliss, leon noticed this and didn't let up on his pace, hips jackhammering into you erratically and if he didn't have a grip on your skirt and your arm you would've been flung to the other side of the couch, "that's it baby girl, cum on my cock, you're doing so well, m'so proud." he praised.

your stomach clenched and spasmed as your release washed over your entire body, muscles trembling and jolting, voice breathless and hoarse whilst leon fucked your sticky release back into you, desperate to chase his own high, holding you steady so you wouldn't fall limply against the couch.

"ah!" leon grunted, soppy wet sounds of your pussy bouncing off of the walls as he continuously pounded into your abused pussy, "i'm cumming, fuck, fuck, fuck!" he gritted his teeth, pushing his hips flush against you as he whispered out breathlessly, "take it, take it baby." warm hot ropes of his cum spurting out and filling up your pussy.

you were completely spent but something about the sensation had you feeling so warm, so full it made your toes curl and you regained enough energy to push back against him, not wanting to lose even a drop of it.

you both spent more than a few minutes like this, basking in each other's warmth and closeness until you were collapsing from exhaustion, whimpering at the empty, sticky feeling between your legs.

leon leaned down, pressing soft kisses to your back and shoulders, rubbing and squeezing your waist to relieve any tension, "let me clean you up." was the last thing you heard him say, your eyes growing heavier and heavier.

leon didn't mind, he cleaned you up well, lifted you up, and quietly headed to your bedroom, tucking you into bed after ridding you of your skirt which he ripped, so you could enjoy your peaceful slumber for the night as he slipped away back downstairs to remove any evidence of what happened before the sun would come up and he would have to face your father once again.

[c0la-queen]

RAGHHHHHHHHH

Could you ever so kind and provide some general dating Headcannons for all the four boys?? 🥺👉👈

Maybe some extra with red leader or someone else if you’re fine with that??? 🥺💜

Mwah mwah you have amazing work <3 /p

Oh my gods I am SO sorry that this is so late!! For some reason, Mr. Tumblr decided not to notify me about your ask?? And then I was at my bestie's house this weekend, so I haven't checked my inbox until now. Begging for your forgiveness rn Anon!!

Also literally kissing you for asking for Red Leader!! Mwah, mwah!!

---

Edd

If you are dating Edd... girlie I am so sorry for your sanity.

Don't get me wrong, I love Edd! He was my first Eddsworld love, my pookie bear for real! But he's the biggest bastard of the entire gang and I stand by that.

Calls you dumb pet names to try and make you laugh. Sugar Tits (regardless of gender or lack thereof, might I add), Baby Doll, Sexy.

He WILL grab/slap your ass all the time. Even in public. Only grins when you glare at him.

This man is a horrible influence. It will be so hard to get your shit done if he has decided that you need to be spending time with him. Why worry about work or chores when you could be all cuddled up with him and Ringo on the couch?

Will sulk if you reject his attempts.

If he's trying to get shit done and you're pestering him for attention? He will drop his basket of laundry or the dishes in his hands in a millisecond.

If he's working on a commission or animation, he'll let you sit in his lap in his chair, let you sit all pretty for him while he works. When he finishes, if you've fallen asleep by then -which you usually do - then he'll carefully move you both to his bed and snuggle up to you and take a nap with you.

Speaking of cuddling, he does naturally run hot. Comes with being a big boy <3 But if you don't enjoy that, then he'll use his powers to cool down his skin for you. Anything to keep cuddling!

He also uses his powers whenever possible. Will abuse them without shame. He puts things on the highest shelf, just so you have to him for help. He'll put patches of ice on the floor under your feet, just so he can catch you before you fall (he'll never let you actually get hurt), and uses his super strength to scoop you up randomly and carry you around.

You cannot show your text messages to ANYONE. He will say filthy things, just to fluster you. Horny Bastard. Finds ways to turn even the most mundane conversations into teasing.

He'd do cute couple things with you, like painting together and swapping canvases every 5 minutes. His favorite is going to cat cafes. The cats literally love him, its like he's made of catnip with how they swarm him.

Physical affection is a huge thing with him. Even little touches throughout the day, like ruffling your hair as he passes by, or a big hug from behind while you fix food.

Overall, big teddy bear that just likes to see his darling blush.

Tom

As I've stated in previous works, Tom is a secret romantic.

He's not a traditional romantic like Matt, but he's romantic in his own way.

Likes parallel play a lot. Finds it relaxing to just sit in his room, testing new songs on his bass while you lay on his bed reading a book. Or in your room, lounging on one of your plush beanbag and organizing his Spotify playlists while you fold your laundry.

Dates with him consist of record stores, concerts, and late night walks.

He'll sing for you if you ask him to.

Very down to earth, both as a person and as a boyfriend. If you have problems, he'll listen patiently until you're done, then help you brainstorm solutions. He doesn't downplay or ignore your feelings, but he doesn't jump to emotions like others might.

He tends to sleep in late on his nights off, since he's more of a night owl than anything. You know that, so you've made it a little tradition to fix him coffee around 11. You know exactly how he takes it, and he always thanks you with a kiss on the cheek and a sleepy, mumbled "you're the best."

Very caring. He'll make sure you've eaten and had water. Will usher you to bed if he can see that you're tired, or do your chores for you if you can't do them for whatever reason. If you can't sleep, he'll make you a mug of chamomile tea and sing you a little lullaby.

When it comes to his monster tendencies, he tries to keep you away from it all. He's bitter about what he is, and he thinks that you're better off separated from that side of him.

At the start of relationship, he'd get angry if you tried to push it. He'd snap at you, distance himself, not talk to you for maybe a couple of days. Further on in the relationship, though, if you push the issue and reassure him that you love every side of him, even the monstrous one, then he'd be more willing. Willing to let you in, to let you see that part of him. He'd be nervous about it, but he'd do it because he loves you.

Matt

He is a traditional romantic! His Mama raised him right, and he drinks his Respect Juice.

Makes sure you two have date night at least once every week. Dressing up nice, going out to dinner or a play, taking a walk through the town to wind down the night. Heading back into the house, changing back into comfortable clothes. He'd wipe your makeup off for you, if you wear it.

Absolutely the kind of guy to get down on his knees in front of you and unbuckle/untie your shoes or high heels for you. He's just so devotional.

If, for whatever reason, you guys are unable to have your date night, he'll make it up to you in some way. A bouquet of your favorite flowers sitting on your bed with a little note. A passionate kiss before one of you has to leave the house. A heartfelt love letter sealed with wax.

Makes sure to text you throughout the day with sweet messages. Compliments, "I love you"s, selfies, updates on what is happening at work. Or just reminders that he's thinking of you. Misses you.

Likes to cook meals for you if its just the two of you at home. Breakfast is his forte, but he's not the worst at following a recipe.

Always amazing for advice. He'll let you talk to him while he hugs you from behind. If it's something sad, he might cry. Just the idea of you going through something negative makes him sad, too.

If he doesn't have advice for you, he'd do anything in his power to find someone who does. One of the other roommates, or even his mother, if you're comfortable with it.

Speaking of his mother, she absolutely adores you. Since Matt has such a good relationship with her, he's already told her so much about you. She thinks its wonderful that her baby has fallen in love. After a while, Matt will even bring you along to his lunches with his mother. You two hit it off instantly.

If you're okay with it, then Matt would love to show you off on his social media. He thinks you're so gorgeous, the entire world should know that he managed to land you. Its never anything invasive, and he always gets your permission before he posts things. Blocks any weird or gross comments.

Loves going on shopping dates with you. Most of the time, its at the mall or a mall in a different town, because he loves walking around and window shopping. Occasionally, he'll take you to more expensive stores. It doesn't bother him, he loves spoiling you. No matter where you two are, he'll buy you anything that you want. If you are adamant to spend your own money, he won't put up too much of a fuss, though he does prefer to pay for you.

He'll do that couples trend with you where you find nail polish that matches the other's eye color.

Gift giving is just one of his love languages in general. It makes him so happy to give his loved one things that he bought. For you specifically, he'll also throw in hand made gifts. He may not be the most talented artistically, but he'll stay awake late into the night, sitting on the floor with a YouTube tutorial playing, paper and cardboard scattered around, a pencil between his teeth, paint on his hands and smeared on his cheek. The end result may look a little crude, but he'll still present it to you with pride. And, of course, you always love it.

Tord

Tord is probably the most romantically stunted of the four. Its not that he doesn't love you, far from it really. He just grew up in an environment where love wasn't freely given, and was often limited for appearances.

His father, as the Red Leader, insisted that he keep a professional and feared image. So, Tord never saw him being affectionate with his mother.

It might be hard at first. You'll struggle. You two may fight. But you'll always make up in the end. He'll listen to you, try to understand your point of view.

He's not against physical affection, but he's able to live without it. Will indulge you whenever you ask. If he's busy, which he usually is, he'll let you drape yourself over him from behind while he sits in his chair, letting you rest your cheek on the top of his head and watch him work.

More than anything, his love language is words of affirmation. Despite being a man of few words, he'll always give you praise. He'll make sure you know that you are his, he is yours, and he loves you. Nothing will change that.

Scary dog privilege. He'll always walk just behind you in public, keeping a guiding hand on the small of your back. Stays alert of you surroundings and the people around, so that you don't have to. You don't even have to worry about people approaching you in public. One piercing glare from Tord is enough to deter anyone.

Not the best at giving advice to problems. He'll listen, but sometimes he can't quite understand why something is an issue. Doesn't invalidate your feelings on purpose, it just happens inadvertently at times. Always, ALWAYS apologizes and holds you close when he realizes what he did.

His preferred dates are nights in at home. Cuddled up on the couch with takeout watching shitty rom-coms. Cooking food that he ate growing up in Norway while you sit at the kitchen table watching. Going to the convenience store at midnight to get Ben and Jerry's in the middle of anime binges.

You become his crutch. When he's having bad paranoia on nights that are too quiet, he'll seek you out. Just having you lay in bed with him, warm and solid and breathing, always calms him down.

He will never let you meet his parents. You are one of the very few good things in his life, and he wants to keep that away from his fucked up home life. Might let you meet his little sister, but not for a long time.

Surprisingly, he does tend to talk more when its just the two of you. He allows you into his head, verbalizing his thoughts to you. He'll ramble about his projects, tell you about the history behind his culture, or rant about things that annoy him. Denies it vehemently in front of others.

He is a huge tease, second only to Edd. What's dangerous is how casual he is about it. Loves making you squirm, and he'll never even change his expression. Sometimes he won't even be looking at you, but rest assured that he is swimming in satisfaction over how flustered you are.

Red Leader

I have so many thoughts about him. Oh my lord.

This is going off the scenario where Reader is a Red Army soldier and met him through the army, after the events of The End.

I want to clarify that this is NOT following the events of TBATF!!! This is my own Red Army timeline, what I refer to in my Eddsworld bubble as "The Bad End"

There are two ways that you'd be able to catch Red Leader's attention. Either you are an extremely talented soldier that does well among your peers, enough to earn the praise of your superior officers and eventually Red Leader himself. Or, you were assigned as his personal assistant to help with paperwork and meetings, but you were so good at handling his temper and attitude that he found himself surprised.

The latter of the two is my favorite, so I'll be working under that one.

Before you, Red Leader had been through several assistants. None of them lasted more than a month. By nature, he was a moody, temperamental man. The stress of the army and oncoming war only made that worse. He saw those previous assistants as nuisances, only getting in his way. He would yell at them, berate them, drive them to the brink until they beg Paul and Pat to transfer them.

When they assigned you to him, they expected the same thing to happen. The two even made bets on how long you'd last. On your first day, Red Leader was nasty to you. Gruff and rude. But... you bit back. That took him by surprise. Instead of taking the insult and shuffling out like a puppy with its tail between its legs, you pursed your lips and gave him a stern look and talked to him in a way that nobody dared to. He should've been angry. Should have screamed at you, discharged you from the army in a heartbeat.

Instead, he found that he quite enjoyed it. He enjoyed your spitfire. Not that he'd let you know. He only gave you a noncommittal hum and dismissed you with a wave of his hand. But... he kept you around. Even found excuses for you to come into his office more than necessary. His penchant for teasing came back full force. He'd poke and prod, finding ways to make you react with that fire he so loved.

It takes a long time for him to finally make a move. Probably takes a near-death experience for him, or an injury to you for him to realize that he wants this. He wants a future with you.

At first, he may seem a little cold in public. Not to the degree that his father was - he promised himself that he would never be like his father. Simply a more... professional air about the entire thing. It was more out of anxiety than anything. He didn't want to make you a target, didn't want to cause you to get hurt. As his army grows more powerful and takes over more and more countries, he grows more comfortable with PDA. He knows that when he is the most powerful man in the world, he doesn't have to worry about anyone hurting you.

He would probably treat you more like a spouse than a girlfriend/boyfriend right off the bat. He's older now, thinking more about the future than the present. He already knows that he wants to be with you forever, so why go through the formalities and hassle of dating?

Always makes time for you whenever he can. If he's in a meeting with his generals or another world leader, he'll sneak text messages to you. Doesn't give a shit if he's caught. What are they going to do to him, Red Leader?

If he's cooped up in his office all day, his door is always open to you. Loves having you drop by unannounced to bring him food or coffee. He'll let you climb into his lap while he works, or sit behind him in his chair and cling to him. Even if you're just sitting in a separate chair nearby, working on your own stuff. He's happy.

If you want to continue being a soldier, or his assistant, he'll let you. But he's also perfectly happy to have you simply be his partner and not have a care in the world. You could sit all pretty in his quarters waiting for him to get off duty, or use the time to pursue your own hobbies and interests. As long as you're happy and cared for, it's okay with him.

Spoils you rotten. You're Red Leader's, so of course you only deserve the best things. Anything in the world you want, you only have to ask for it. It's yours. He would raze entire cities just to see you smile.

He does enjoy taking you out on dates. While also spending time with you, he sees it as a way to show you off to the world. Dressing you up in the finest clothes that he got you, the prettiest jewelry that he bought. Taking you to restaurants and operas where everyone can see you hanging on his arm. It makes him puff up with pride.

When the two of you are alone, he's so adoring. Loves snuggling. It's a struggle to convince him to let you out of bed in the mornings, he'll just be clinging to you. If you do somehow manage to escape his grasp, he'll catch you around the waist and drag you back to bed. Won't stop until Paul or Pat message him to get his ass out of bed. He always grumbles about how "it's my damn army, I should get to sleep in as long as I want".

Sometimes, at night, he has pains in his right shoulder, the side where he's burned and amputated. It can range from a dull ache to excruciating pain. On nights that it hurts too much to move, you'll scramble out of bed and get his medication from his nightstand, gently coaxing him to take it. You'll hold him and comfort him until the pain subsides and he falls back asleep.

He doesn't like to talk about it, really. It feels weird, letting anyone see this part of his life. Letting you see his vulnerability. Letting you see him.

But he does.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Sweet Redemption

Title: Sweet Redemption

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Dennis Baker x Female!Reader

Word Count: 5.5K

Summary: You move into the neighborhood and meet Dennis Baker, a man in the middle of a divorce. Trying to keep yourself honest, you keep him at a distance. But you're drawn together after a mishap online. Will it end sweetly or on a sour note?

Warnings: ending of a marriage due to infidelity, nosy neighbors, slight social media stalking, alcohol consumption, premature ejaculation, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, hyperspermia, mention of bodily fluids

Beta: @peyton-warren

A/N: This all started as a dream, and no it wasn’t like a Stephanie Meyer situation. More like, I dreamt of Dennis cumming in his pants from getting too excited and then 5,000+ words fell out of my fingers. So, enjoy!!

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

It’s been the talk of the neighborhood. Mrs. Baker was moving out of the house she shared with Mr. Baker, and it was quite a messy ordeal. It was the stuff of trashy romance novels, but here it was in real life. The worst part was trying to sympathize with Mr. Baker losing his marriage. Of course, this was a sad thing, and you understood that he was distraught. But, ever since last summer at the neighborhood block party, you had been falling for Mr. ‘Please, call me Dennis’ Baker. 

You had just moved in and were excited to get out and meet your new neighbors. You met most of the cul-de-sac the day you moved in. But the Bakers seemed to keep to themselves, for the most part. 

At the block party, you made baked goods for everyone to enjoy. The first person to come and try your lemon bars was Mr. Baker. He stormed out of his house a few moments prior, and you tried to keep your eyes to yourself, but you couldn’t help but watch as he charged to a cooler holding beer and pulled out a fresh bottle. 

Using his shirt to cover the cap before he twisted it, you got a sneak peek of his washboard abs and happy trail. Tossing the bottle cap back into the cooler, he took a long pull of the hoppy liquid, swiping the bottle across his forehead to cool himself down. He took off his glasses to wipe off the sweat on his brow and put them back on, surveying the cul-de-sac.

As soon as he saw you, he seemed to be transfixed. He walked over to your lawn, where you had set up a little table with your lemon bars and some fresh, ice-cold lemonade. He reached over the table, offering his large hand for a handshake, and you loved having your hand in his, even if only for a moment. His grip was firm, and his smile was wide.

“You just moved in, yeah? I’m Dennis Baker. Welcome to the neighborhood,” he bantered, his gemstone-blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

“Thank you, Mr. Baker,” you mumbled, adding your name at the end.

“Nice to meet you. And please, call me Dennis,” he encouraged, looking down at the treats between you. “Lemon bars are my favorite.”

You lift the tray so he can take one. “Try one before Mrs. Johnson brings her grandkids over and there are none left,” you insisted, nodding to where the older woman was wrangling the kids.

He laughed, the sound tickling your eardrums. “I think you’re right, they look ravenous,” he joked, picking up one of the bars between his fingers and biting into the sweet yet tart delight. 

His eyes closed, a sinful moan escaping his lips as he finished. He sucked on his thumb and forefinger to get every last morsel of the delicacy, but a crumb stayed behind on his plump, pink lips.

You grabbed a napkin, and before you knew what you were doing, you dabbed at his lip to wipe away the offensive piece of shortbread crust. You froze, your hand gripping the napkin so close to his succulent mouth, ready to apologize for treating him like a messy child. But he saves you from your embarrassment.

“I swear, I am such a mess. My wife will tell you the same damn thing, I'm sure," he lamented, a nervous chuckle on his lips as he took the napkin from your hand and wiped his mouth.

“Dennis!” His wife stands outside their front door with her hands on her hips. Her ash blonde waves reflected the sunlight, but the fire in her eyes made you want to be swallowed up into the earth. 

“Speak of the devil, and she shall appear,” he mumbles lowly, just loud enough for you to catch what he said. “Um, thanks for the, uh, lemon bar. I’ll see you around, I guess.” He smiles at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and you immediately feel the urge to wrap your arms around him and tell him that everything will be ok.

Instead, you smile back politely and give a little wave. You watch him until he turns around to walk back to his house, busying yourself with pouring a cup of lemonade. You gulped the drink in one go, trying to soothe your suddenly dry mouth, when Mrs. Johnson walked over.

“Alright, kids. Take one lemon bar and go sit down in the shade, ok?” One by one, the three youngsters take a napkin and a lemon bar, and you pour each a glass of lemonade. Once they have their snacks, they walk back to sit under the shade of a tree. You almost forgot Mrs. Johnson was still there until she cleared her throat. “So, I see you met Mr. Baker. Easy with that one, honey.”

“I’m sorry?” you asked, knowing damn well what she meant.

“He’s married, child. Unhappily, but still very much married,” she began, shaking her head as she watched Dennis’ retreating form enter his front door. When she turned back around, she looked you right in the eyes and started to whisper. “Now, you didn’t hear this from me. But word on the street is they’re in the middle of a divorce because of infidelity. That hussy went and got mixed up with the pool boy, and poor Dennis was the last to know, of course. And I don’t mean to lecture you on who you should be drooling over, but I can’t help wanting to make sure you know what you are getting into, baby.”

“I’m not—I wasn’t drooling. We barely even spoke,” you stuttered, shaking your head.

“Mhm, okay. Just try your best to wait for the ink to dry on that divorce decree, alright?” She patted your hand that lay on the table, then walked back to her grandchildren.

‘Well, that was fun,’ you thought to yourself. You poured yourself another lemonade, took a sip, and peeked over the top of the cup to see the blinds closing quickly in the front window of the Baker house. Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you packed up your small table to take everything back inside. 

Over the last year, you heeded Mrs. Johnson’s warning and managed to keep Dennis at arm’s length. You greeted each other when you happened to check the mailbox at the same time, exchanged recipes when you bumped into one another at the grocery store, and even commented on the other’s social media posts. 

Speaking of social media, you noticed when Dennis cropped his wife out of a few photos. You hated to admit it, but you stalked his page more than once. It became a habit of yours to scroll through his posts now and then. He usually reposted articles about creative writing workshops and local beer tastings. You watched the evolution of his life from a man divorcing his wife to a man who looked forward to the future.

One night, while enjoying a glass of wine, you open your laptop and begin scrolling through your feed. You find yourself clicking on an article about online dating and pushing past the fear of putting yourself out there. As you reach the end of the piece, you click the thumbs-up button and are shown other names of friends who also liked it. And that’s when you see it.

‘Dennis Baker also liked this.’ 

So, it looked like Dennis was ready to move on. You chew your lip, thinking a million things all at once. You click out of the article and resume scrolling for the night. 

After about a half hour, you get up to refresh your chardonnay. As you pour a healthy glass, you hear a ‘ding’ come from your laptop. Returning to the couch, you set down your glass and pick up the computer. 

You search the screen for what could have made that sound, and you spot a notification in the corner. Clicking it reveals a pop-up that says, ‘Dennis Baker liked your photo.’. Clicking it again, you are shown the photo in question. It’s a selfie you took about three weeks ago when you and a few friends went to the beach. You smile at the camera lens and show off your skimpy two-piece bathing suit as you lay on a lounger.

This man liked your thirst trap from three weeks ago, at 10:36 pm on a Thursday. It could be a fluke, but it could be that this man stalks your page as well. You don’t have the chance to ponder it in-depth because you are startled by another ‘ding’.

This time, there is an alert from the Messenger app. 

‘You have a new message from Dennis Baker.’

You waste no time clicking the notification and are brought to the web-based messenger. 

Hey, what are the chances that my liking your photo just now isn’t creepy??

Not creepy at all 😉

Just unexpected

Then again, it is a thirst trap, guess it worked lol

Oh, it definitely worked 😁

And by that, I mean you take great selfies

You looked beautiful, I mean

I am shit at this, I’m sorry

You wish you could reach through the computer screen and cradle his face in your hands and tell him that everything is fine. But instead, you gush over him calling you beautiful, and try to lighten the mood.

No apologies necessary

And thank you for the compliment 😉

What are you up to tonight?

Besides flattering me ☺️

I was just taking a break from writing

Have a deadline coming up and my mind is a mess

Saw you were online, so I figured ‘why not’

Still getting used to a quiet house

I’m sorry

You have nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart

That responsibility belongs to my ex-wife

But enough about her, what are you doing up so late?

Just enjoying some wine 😉

And I also don’t like the quiet all the time

Sometimes you just want a body next to you

The chardonnay gave you some liquid courage, allowing you to say what you think.

I doubt that was an invitation

But

If you wanted, I wouldn’t mind the company

You could relax and have some wine

And I could get some writing done

Totally up to you

I would love the company as well

I’m sure Mrs. Johnson and the other old bitties would talk about us though

Let them talk, doesn’t bother me one bit

Mrs. Johnson doesn’t scare me

And either way, it’s our business

Not hers

Not that we have business

I’m shutting up now

‘A man this wonderful should never have to feel like he isn’t allowed to express himself,’ you thought to yourself. Plus, you know you wouldn’t exactly mind it if you and he did have some ‘business’.

I know what you mean

You don’t have to shut up lol

But I think I might go to bed in a bit

Yeah it is getting late

Do you want to exchange numbers?

No pressure, of course

Just figured it would be easier than this

Yeah that sounds great

You exchange numbers and smile at your phone before saving his contact and returning to your online chat.

Well, good luck writing

And don’t stay up too late 😉

I’ll try my best

Good night, sweetheart 😁

Good night, Dennis

You close your laptop and gulp down the rest of your wine. Well, so much for keeping him at arm’s length.

Throughout the next week, you and Dennis send texts back and forth from morning to midnight. You find out you have similar interests in movies and humor, but you differ in music and food tastes. Both of you love horror films and John Mulaney stand-up. You enjoy any music you could dance to and trying interesting new foods, while he likes easy listening and “nothing too spicy”.

Good morning and good night texts sandwich your other messages that range from fascinating to mundane. If you were honest with yourself, there were moments where you wish the texts would get a bit spicier. You didn’t want to force him into a conversation he wasn’t ready to have. Also, you didn’t want to assume he would ever want to have a conversation like that.

You invited Dennis over on Friday night; neither of you had plans, and you were feeling a bit on the lonely side since your friends all had significant others to hang out with. You get home from work, take a shower, and change into some comfy loungewear. 

Just as you are finishing your dinner dishes, you get a text from Dennis asking if he can head over. After sending a quick text to the affirmative, you set your phone on the counter. You’re drying your wine glass from dinner when your doorbell rings. You hang up your dish towel and go to answer the door.

You check your appearance in the mirror in the foyer and are pleased with yourself. Opening the door, you are greeted by a smiling Dennis who holds his laptop case in one hand and a bottle of your favorite red blend in the other. More wine!You step aside to let him into your house and note that he looks relaxed for once.

“I picked this up for you. I remember you saying that you liked it,” he says, giving you the bottle once he is in your living room. The self-satisfied smile on his face does nothing to quell the fire between your legs.

“Thank you, Dennis,” you beam, taking the bottle in one hand while the other squeezes his bicep. You’re surprised when he flexes under your grip, biting your lip and rushing to the kitchen to open the bottle.

“No problem, sweetheart. Mind if I get set up here on the couch?” He inquires, already sitting down and taking out his laptop.

“Yeah, that’s perfect. There’s an outlet for your charger on the wall next to the—”

“I got it!” He interjects, cutting you off and plugging in his charger. He sits again and starts to boot up his laptop, looking over at you and noticing you are having trouble opening the wine. 

He walks over to you, taking the bottle and corkscrew from your hands after wordlessly offering help. Effortlessly, he pops the cork on the bottle and pours you a healthy glass. You accept the wine, take a sip, and thank him for his help.

“Next time, just say that you need help. I’m not gonna think any less of you, sweetheart,” he reassures, smiling and rubbing a hand down your arm. 

You stand there looking up at him, wishing you weren’t intimidated by this normally unassuming man. Clearing your throat, you find your voice. 

“Come on, you told me you were gonna read me some of what you’re writing,” you probe, nodding to the couch.

“That’s right, I did say that,” he snorts, running a hand through his hair and walking back to the living room. “But, remember, I’m no Shakespeare. So, don’t expect this to be—”

“Dennis?” You cut him off, your hand going to his solid shoulder.

“Yeah?” His soft, aquamarine orbs move to you.

“Shut up and show me your work,” you insist, dropping your hand from his arm so you don’t accidentally ruffle his hair. He’s so cute when he’s pathetic and down on himself, but you would never tell him that. 

That nervous laugh of his is your absolute favorite; it never disappoints. 

“Alright, um, this one I’m working on is about the new brewery that opened up on Main Street a few months ago. It’s owned by this guy who used to own another brewery with friends, but one day he just decided to open this place. Anyway, uh, I’ll start here,” he begins, adjusting his glasses on his face.

Dennis launches into a tale about a brewmaster who decides to follow his dream of being the sole owner of a brewery, leaving behind his skeptical friends and doubtful family. Against all odds, he was able to find a building that was available for purchase in his budget. Along with help from a friend who was an interior designer, he created an inviting space where people could not only come to have a drink but also learn about the brewing process.

The way he wrote about the owner’s friends and family not believing in him sounded like he knew what it was like to be doubted, to be second-guessed. You sip from your glass while Dennis reads aloud, and you study him. 

He fidgets while he speaks, fingers smoothing over the keys until he uses the trackpad to scroll down to the next paragraph. While he scrolls, his tongue pokes out of his mouth to moisten his bottom lip. Now and then, he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

He ends the story with some flowery words about overcoming odds, trusting your gut, and being your own biggest motivator. Had those words come from anyone else, you wouldn’t have believed them. But because you know what Dennis has gone through and have seen with your own eyes how he has persevered, you are drawn in by the words like a moth to a flame.

“So, come on. What is your honest opinion? I promise I won’t be offended,” he sighs, expecting the worst.

You’re unsure if you are drunk from the good wine or moved by his words. But instead of trying to figure it out, you drain your glass and set it on the coffee table. You then turn to Dennis and move his laptop to the coffee table as well; all the while he furrows his brow and waits to see what you’re up to.

You get up on your knees, move Dennis' clammy hands away from nervously rubbing his thighs, and climb onto his lap. His eyes widen, and you can tell he doesn’t know what to do as you invade his space. When you settle in straddling his legs, your hands go to his chest. You’re not surprised when firm pecs greet your palms or when a bulge twitches under your ass.

“Dennis, you are an amazing writer. I was hooked from the first sentence. I can tell how passionate you are about writing. Makes me wonder if you’re passionate like that in other areas,” you confess, licking your wine-stained lips and sliding your hands from his chest to rest on his shoulders.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows deeply before speaking. “Th—thank you, sweetheart. I mean, it’s just a puff piece I was working on. You should see what Nathan comes up with; he’s already a junior editor, and—”

“Dennis?” You cut him off, covering his mouth with your forefinger in a ‘shhh’ gesture. “With all due respect, I don’t care what Nathan does. I’m complimenting you, and you will accept it. When I move my finger from your lips, you will say, ‘Thank you’ and we will move on, ok?”

He nods quickly, his glasses sliding down his nose a bit. You remove your finger from his lips and adjust his glasses for him. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his hands at his sides and aching to touch you.

“Good boy,” you tease, biting your lip in a devilish grin. You notice his breathing quicken. And was that a whimper? A pink hue dusts his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and you realize he’s very much turned on. You are so mesmerized by how hot he looks that you are rendered speechless, allowing Dennis to take it the wrong way.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

This time, you cut off his words with a kiss. As soon as your mouths touch, you feel a slight flutter in your chest. It’s just a brush of lips, a fleeting second where you throw caution to the wind. But you’re convinced this is just the beginning.

Leaning back, you look into Dennis’ eyes. Searching for what, you don’t know. He lets out a breath, saying nothing while his hands remain at his sides. The moment stretches long enough that you begin to think that you fucked up.

You tremble, afraid that you may have crossed a line. “Fuck, I’m so sor—”

Now, it’s your turn to get cut off. His large hand raises to touch your cheek, his thumb on your lips. “Sweetheart, you have nothing to be sorry for. I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long, since that day at the block party. I can’t believe that you want me, too.”

Instead of responding, your hand grips his wrist, and you open your mouth to take the tip of his thumb between your lips. You suck on his thumb sinfully, watching as his pupils dilate. Swirling your tongue around his digit, you close your eyes and savor the little noises he makes.

As you let his thumb slip from your lips, you adjust yourself in his lap. The hardening length in his pants brushes against your ass. He hisses, a mixture of pleasure and pain on his face. You gyrate your hips slowly, setting a rhythm of teasing him before you lean in to nip and kiss his neck. 

His hands go to your waist, guiding you as you grind into him. “Is this ok, sweetheart?” 

“Mhm,” you murmur between the kisses you leave on his neck. 

His grip on you tightens momentarily, and he lets out a breathy groan. You feel his arms wrap around you, and he pulls you close, effectively stopping you from moving your hips any longer. Your arms encircle him, your hand tangling in his dishwater-blonde hair. 

You sit there, enveloped in each other until you realize Dennis just came in his pants. Lifting yourself, you spot the wet spot on his jeans. In place of feeling grossed out by the offensive patch of cum, you are even more aroused than you were while you rode his lap. You just made this man cum in his pants; you couldn’t be prouder.

“Good going, Dennis. You just came in your pants like a horny teenager. Maybe you do have a bad penis,” he says to himself, just loud enough for you to hear.

You ignore his negative self-talk and remove yourself from his grip, standing up before him. He looks so small as he sits there, and all you want to do is cuddle him like a hurt puppy. But rather than cuddle, you determine it’s your turn to cum with his help.

“Dennis, get up and follow me,” you order, already walking away. You hear his soft footfalls behind you, doing as he’s told.

Once you get to your bedroom, you sit at the edge of the bed and move yourself to lie back on your pillows. You instruct him to take off his jeans and lay next to you. He takes off all of his clothing, leaving his boxer briefs on to cover his softening cock.

When he is on the bed, he silently asks for permission to undress you by tucking his fingers in your bottoms. You nod, lying on your back, and he gets to work. Pulling down your leggings, he peppers your legs with kisses. With your pants off, he can see the small damp patch in your underwear and lets out a whimper. 

“Dennis, do you want to eat my pussy?” you hint, widening your legs.

“Yes, please, can I?” he pleads, smoothing a hand up your thigh.

“Finish undressing me and then lay down so I can ride that pretty face of yours,” you direct, smiling up at him as he hovers above you.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he replies, carefully helping you undress fully. He lays down, his head supported by one of your pillows. You face away from him, throwing one leg over his torso, scooting up until your vagina is just above his lips. “Take everything you need. Use me, sweetheart.”

Lowering yourself, you are met with his hot, wet mouth. He licks a stripe between your folds, splitting you down the middle. Once he gets to your soaked entrance, he laps up what nectar has accumulated there, moaning all the while. Your hands go to his abdomen to hold yourself up, marveling at how sculpted he is.

His hands grip your ass, opening you up so he can dive in further. The sloppy sounds of him slurping up your juices only serve to make you whimper and call out his name. He eats you out like it’s his dream come true, and you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

His tongue swirls around your clit then flicks up and down on the sensitive bead until you’re a moaning mess. Your eyes lose focus for a second, and when you regain sight, you notice his hardening length. You watch his cock bob as you let out a particularly breathy whine.

When he changes tactics and sucks on your clit, you keen like a cat in heat. You can feel yourself reaching the point of no return quicker than you thought possible. He moans into your sex when you lean forward and palm him through his boxer briefs. Your hand can barely fit around it, and the sight alone has you pressing yourself further into Dennis’ mouth.

He begins to pump into your hand as you rub your soaked pussy up and down his face, taking what you need just like he said you could. With the way his mouth slides across your snatch, you’re getting beard burn, and you couldn’t give two shits. You fuck yourself on his tongue, your clit stimulated by his bottom lip. 

Within a handful of minutes, you’re gushing into his mouth, and he is drinking you down until you have nothing left to give. He lazily presses kisses to your outer labia as you catch your breath. When you can’t take anymore, he helps you lie down next to him.

He wraps his arms around you, soothing a hand down your arm as you come down from your high. You come back to yourself once you feel his hard dick slightly pressing into your hip. You say nothing at first until you realize he’s canting his hips and humping into you like a horny puppy.

You reach for his erection, slipping your hand into his underwear and stroking him. The tighter your grip, the louder he groans. You turn slightly to face him and help him remove his last article of clothing. His uncut cock is heavy as it hangs between you. It looks pretty, and you bet it tastes good, too. Licking your lips, you dip your head and lick the bead of precum that leaks from his shiny red tip.

The whimper that leaves his mouth is too precious. You can tell that if you use your mouth on him, he is bound to blow sooner rather than later. You take pity on him and lay on your back again, throwing your leg over his hip. 

“Need you to fuck me, Dennis. Need you so bad,” you beg, teasing his tip while it sits just under your heat.

“Are you sure, sweetheart? I don’t want you to feel pressured just because we’re naked in bed together,” he counters, courteous to a fault.

“I’m sure, Dennis. I want you. I need you,” you stress, pressing your hips into him.

“It’s okay. I’m right here, sweetheart,” he consoles, turning your head to capture your lips in a kiss. While you kiss, he pushes his tip between your folds, teasing your hole. He slips into your tight entrance, ramming forward until you take him in completely.

Letting you get used to the intrusion, he stills for a beat until you break the kiss. You nod, mutely imploring him to move. He gets the hint, pulling out until only his thick mushroom head is inside you before pushing back in. His grip around your waist tenses as he begins to fuck you in earnest.

Dragging moan after groan from you, he revels in the different noises you make. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear as his dick is squeezed by your cunt with every thrust. He pecks your cheek and neck, littering your warm skin with kisses.

As he continues to cuddlefuck you, you’ve never felt safer in a lover’s arms. He periodically asks if you’re okay as if he’s afraid that any false move will have you running for the hills. You hum in approval every time, unsure if your voice can articulate how amazing he makes you feel.

“So good for me, sweetheart. You were made for me. Hmm, I can’t get enough of you. You’re perfect. Every fucking inch of you, sweetheart. Even the parts of you that I don’t know about. I needed this. Needed you, sweetheart. Do you know how beautiful you are?” He babbles as he gets lost pumping inside you.

“Oh, Dennis. Dennis, I’m gonna cum. That’s it, right there,” you ramble, feeling your walls clamp down around his shaft. Your back arches, allowing him to go impossibly deeper. You realize no one has ever made you cum like this, and you bask in the afterglow for as long as you can as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, his hips stuttering as he chases his release. “Right behind you, sweetheart. Ugh, I’m gonna cum. Where-”

“Don’t you dare fucking pull out! Wanna feel you,” you insist, your hand going to his ass to stop him from withdrawing.

“Fuck! Fuck, here it comes,” he howls, stilling his hips as his dick twitches and releases rope after rope of cum inside you. He cums so much that it starts to leak out past his thick meat. “Shit, I can’t believe I’m still cumming, sweetheart. Just keeps going. Oh, God.” You can still feel him spurting cum inside you, and you’re sure that if you weren’t on birth control, he would be impregnating you right now.

As his cock finally softens, it slips free from you along with some of his thick load. Both of you are so tired from your coupling that instead of cleaning up, you remove the comforter from the bed and climb under the sheets. Dennis is the big spoon, attaching himself to you once you press your ass into him.

You sleep soundly that night, lulled by his heartbeat against your back.

After a few months, you make it official. Dennis is yours, and you are his. Neither of you can get enough of each other, and keeping this secret has had its struggles. But together, you could get through anything. Dennis was moving up in his career as a writer, and you were proud to say you made leaps and bounds in your job.

Attending the neighborhood’s Halloween party together, you are dressed as Gomez and Morticia Adams. The way Dennis dotes on you, kissing you every chance he can get, it is the perfect costume. Plus, he looked adorable in that pin-striped suit with his hair slicked back. You were no slouch in your floor-length black long-sleeved fitted dress.

You get some looks and a few smiles as well. But when Dennis makes a bathroom run, you are approached by Mrs. Johnson. She hugs you and chuckles to herself before stepping back and patting your growing tummy. Your eyes widen, and you wonder how she could tell when Dennis didn’t even know.

“So, when can we expect the pitter-patter of little feet?” She inquires, a soft smile on her face.

“I go to the doctor on Tuesday to find out. How the hell did you know?” You challenge, crossing your arms to cover your belly.

“You thought you two were slick, sneaking back and forth to each other’s houses since the summer. Me and the girls have been watching the way you two interact. That’s the look of people in love. Plus, your tits are so big right now they look like you’re smuggling two Christmas hams in that bra,” she laughs again, rubbing your arm when you frown slightly. “Don’t worry, child. That man loves you more than he ever loved that hussy he was married to. Keep doing what you’re doing, and we’ll soon be calling you ‘Mrs. Baker’.”

Dennis appears next to you, whisking you away to the dance floor. He twirls you around and makes you laugh with his terrible dance moves and goofy faces. Nothing makes him happier than making you happy, and vice versa. You two were truly made for each other, and nothing could separate you. 

But the best part? When you are about six months pregnant, you go grocery shopping, running into Dennis's ex-wife in the bread aisle. It's priceless to see the look of shock on her face when she realizes he's the father and your new husband. Life doesn’t get much better than that. 

Dear Life,

Thanks for the lemons!

Sincerely,

The Bakers

A/N: First time writing for Dennis, and I don’t think this will be that last. Please let me know what you think!! I hope you all enjoyed this nutty little story. Sorry for the lemon puns!

**Tag List**

@cevansbaby-dove @startcarvingdarling @iwudbutnah @thezombieprostitute @thabiddie23

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

[stuckinthesun]

༝༚༝༚ Tic-Tac-Toe ༝༚༝༚ — Part Two

Part One

Black suit mod!Leon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: nsfw mdni, drunk sex, p in v, semi-public sex, pet names, riding, spanking, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex (please wrap it jfc)

wc: 2.8k

Ashley got dragged away from you again by another group of people just dying to know about her experience. You honestly felt bad for your friend and you would’ve stayed with her, but with how much you’ve drank you couldn’t trust your mouth right now.

So instead you decided to get some air.

The cool night air hit your face the moment you stepped out of the banquet hall, instantly making your head feel clearer.

Well, almost clear.

It seemed no matter how many glasses of champagne you drank, you couldn’t get Leon out of your head. How good he looked in that dark suit, the sound of his laugh, the feeling of his fingers trailing up your thigh.

God, you’re blushing just thinking about it!

Subconsciously you look down at your leg, at the unfinished game of tic-tac-toe still marking your skin. The one X he left on you stands out against all your markings, and you brush your fingers over it.

“Hey, there you are.” A deep voice startled you, making you jump and turn around.

Leon stood there with an easy smile and a half-empty glass of champagne. He looked the same as before, except his tie was loose and his cheeks were tinted pink with alcohol.

So sexy and disheveled, great.

You blink at him for a second as his words sink in, “Were you looking for me?”

The pink on his face deepens, “Well, I wanted to know if you were up for finishing our game of tic-tac-toe. Would hate to leave it unfinished on your leg.”

You look down at your leg again before smiling at him, “Well I hope you brought a pen because I left mine back inside.”

“I have one in my car,” He shrugs, looking out into the parking lot of the hall toward where you assume his car is.

“Mr. Kennedy,” You say dramatically, pretending to be scandalized, “Are you inviting me to your car? Alone? In the middle of a party while we’re both intoxicated?”

Leon lets out a surprised chuckle and you notice the color on his face deepen more, “You’re making it sound like high school.”

That makes you laugh before you shake your head and smile, “Alright well, as long as you don’t plan on driving, then I’d love to join you in your car for some leg tic-tac-toe.”

“I promise I won’t be driving,” Leon smiled back at you before nodding his head in the direction of his car.

“I’m surprised you were able to escape the vultures inside.” You joked as the both of you snuck away toward Leon’s car drunkenly.

The blonde smirked, “I’m damn good at my job, Miss. If I couldn’t escape a bunch of drunk old men, then I wouldn’t have been able to save your friend.”

“I guess you have a point,” You hum, noticing the nice car you’re approaching.

Leon pulls out a set of keys from his dress pants before unlocking the vehicle. Stepping up to the sleek black car, he opens the passenger door for you.

“Thank you,” You blushed slightly before slipping inside, and you made sure your dress was completely in the car before Leon carefully closed the door.

You looked around the interior of the car as Leon jogged around to the driver's side, it was fairly clean. So clean in fact, it made you wonder just how often Leon was away on those scary missions like the one to save your best friend.

The car door slamming shut brings you back to the moment and you look up to see Leon placing his champagne glass in the cup holder, “Oh my god, did you steal that?”

“No? I’ll probably take it back,” He shrugged, opening up the middle console and pulling out a pen, “Besides we know the President, it’ll be fine.”

“This is true,” You nod and shimmy yourself in your seat so you can once again prop your legs up in his lap. The stretch across the console was uncomfortable but you would make it work, “Alright Kennedy, enough chitchat. It’s game time.”

“Oh, suddenly you’re competitive?” Leon raised an eyebrow as he popped the cap off the pen and grabbed your leg.

The awkward angle made it difficult for him to see the game of tic-tac-toe, so you tried to shift yourself again, “I’ve always been competitive, you just didn’t see it before because we were so rudely interrup- huh?!”

You were cut off mid-sentence by Leon, apparently frustrated with the angle of your legs, leaning forward to wrap an arm around your waist, the other around your leg, and pull you to straddle his lap.

“That’s better,” Leon hummed, quickly marking your skin with another X before looking up at you with a smirk, “Your turn.”

You stare at him, completely caught off guard by his actions. He just continues to smirk at you, pushing the pen into your hand as he indicates toward the game of X’s and O’s.

A blush heats your skin as you feel his hands on your thighs, his fingers once again tangling in your tights and making your breath hitch.

“This okay?” Leon asked, voice teasing but you could tell the question was genuine. If you said you were uncomfortable and wanted to get off, you truly believe he would let you without a second thought.

This thought brings you reassurance for some reason and you smirk back at him, “Course, just need to get comfortable.”

Leon doesn’t get to reply before you’re sitting up a little, and pulling the skirt of your dress out from under you. Honestly, it had been uncomfortable, the fabric pulling tightly against your skin since Leon hadn’t bothered to adjust it before moving you. Now the skirt of your dress pools around your waist, and your warm center sits on his lap only covered by your panties and some string.

His grip on your thighs tightens, making his fingers tug at your tights and tearing them ever so slightly. Your smirk just deepens, “That’s better.”

Finally, you take your turn drawing an O right below his, successfully cutting him off. You hand the pen back to him with a triumphant smile.

“Don’t get too excited,” Leon says, quickly drawing an X across from his previous one.

“Why not? I’m obviously going to win.” You quickly take back the pen and make your move.

“Oh you think so, do you?” Leon’s marking your skin again, the drag of the pen almost hurts.

“Yeah, I do!” You cry out as you draw a messy O and look up at Leon who’s already looking at you with something close to wonder.

Then suddenly, he’s kissing you.

Leon’s hands grab the sides of your face and tug you closer, smashing your lips together. You kiss back without a second thought, dropping the pen in your hand to run your fingers through his hair, pulling him into you.

The kiss is desperate, it’s exactly how both of you have felt since the first time you met inside the banquet hall. His tongue runs along your bottom lip and you're quick to give him access, opening your mouth and moaning at the feeling of his tongue against yours.

Leon’s hands slide along your body, feeling every curve of your smooth skin. Your hands slide down his shoulders, pulling his suit jacket with you. Understanding, Leon sits up without breaking the kiss and quickly shrugs out of his coat.

Flinging the article of clothing to the back of the car, Leon leans back into his seat. His hands glide up your back, following along the teeth of the zipper until he finds the handle.

You feel him start to pull on the small piece of metal, exposing your upper back, before he pulls away from the kiss, “Is this okay?”

It’s the same question he asked before, except the teasing tone is replaced by a breathy grunt. Your answer is the same as before too, just instead of answering verbally, you nod frantically as you tug his tie off from around his neck.

You throw the piece of silk into the passenger seat as Leon finishes unzipping your dress, letting it hang loosely off your shoulders as he kisses your neck. A soft sigh passes between your lips and you tilt your head to the side to give him better access.

“Oh fuck,” You moan, rolling your hips down against his and feeling his bulge pressing against your barely concealed center.

“Fuck baby,” Leon groans, his head thumping back against the headrest, “Don’t roll your hips like that till I’m inside you.”

“Then hurry,” You whine, reaching between the two of you to start undoing his belt. The straps of your dress slip from your shoulders as you do so, exposing your bra to Leon.

As you make quick work of pulling the leather strap from the metal buckle, you feel his large hand cup your breast. You whine again and push your chest out so he can get a better feel, and you can’t help but close your eyes when he squeezes.

“God you’re really beautiful,” Leon whispers, leaning forward to press open-mouth kisses against your collarbone as you finally pull his belt free from his dress pants, “I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you. When I first brought Ashley back.”

That has you pausing. You open your eyes and lean away from him furrowing your eyebrows, “Really?”

“Yeah.” Leon nodded, looking at you with lust-filled eyes, “I didn’t say anything for obvious reasons.”

“You didn’t even know my name earlier,” You pointed out, frowning even more.

“Like I said before, you never told me your name!”

“Yeah, but why didn’t you ask anyone or I don’t know get your spy people to look it up?”

“First off, I’m not a spy.” Leon said chuckling and you just rolled your eyes, “And second, I wanted you to tell me your name.”

Your eyes widen as your chest fills with a sudden warmth. A line like that shouldn’t be all that romantic, and yet for some reason you’re blushing.

Throwing the belt next to the tie in the passenger seat, you grab the collar of Leon’s shirt and pull him into a kiss. It’s messy and heated, much like the first one, but it doesn’t last as long. You quickly pull back, leaning away from the agent as he tries to chase you for another one, and beg, “Please fuck me.”

Leon stops in his attempt at trying to capture your lips again and smirks, “I will, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

Suddenly your dress is over your head and being thrown into the back of the car. You shiver a little, at both the air on your skin and the feeling of being exposed, before you pull his vest off.

His hands glide along your thighs as he kisses your neck and collarbone, stopping at your ass and squeezing. You moan, unbuttoning his pants and untucking his dress shirt.

You feel his fingers lace in between the wide gaps in your tights, and you barely have a second to realize what he’s going to do before he pulls. A loud ripping sound fills the car as you feel Leon rip the crotch of your fishnets wide open.

“Been thinking about doing that all night.” Leon hums, pushing your panties to the side through the gap he made, exposing your dripping pussy.

You gasp, rolling your hips to push back against his hand and you feel him slip his middle finger inside of you, making you cry out, “Already so wet and I hadn’t even touched you yet.”

“Please Leon,” You beg, rocking back against the digit inside of you.

“Need to get out of these pants first.” Leon mumbles, bucking his hips up as if to remind you that his cock is still tucked inside his pants.

You nod, leaning your forehead against his as you look down and begin unbuttoning his slacks. His finger inside of you begins to thrust, curling up just right and rubbing against your G-spot. You let out a long moan, your fingers stuttering against his zipper, causing Leon to hiss and thrust up.

“Come on honey, pull me out so I can get inside this pussy.” Leon says, pushing another finger inside of you and making you see stars.

Quickly you pull Leon’s cock from his dress pants, him lifting his hips slightly so you can pull both the slacks and his underwear down his thighs a little. Once he was finally free from the restraints of his pants, you spit in your palm before wrapping it around his shaft and pumping.

Leon let out a surprised groan, his grip on your ass tightening and his fingers inside of you suddenly reaching deeper, “S-shit baby. Won’t last long if you keep doing that.”

“Then fucking fuck me,” You huff breathlessly, impatient and so turned on.

A loud smack sound rings out, followed by a burning pain on your right asscheek that makes you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

Leon spanked you. Leon just fucking spanked you and you moaned.

Leon looks at you with amusement, “You’re the one who wrapped your hand around my dick instead of your cunt.”

“I can’t exactly get your dick inside me with your fingers in the way,” You glare at him, squeezing the base of his cock just to see his face pinch in pleasure.

“Fine,” Leon grits, removing his fingers from inside you and pulling your hips to align better with his. Your hand fell away from his cock and you quickly gripped the back of the seat as Leon pushed himself inside of you without warning.

Both of you cried out, you louder than him, as he bottomed out, seating himself fully inside of you. Neither of you moved, you trying to adjust to the size of him, and him trying not to cum instantly at the feeling of your warm, wet cunt wrapped so tightly around him.

“There, that better?” Leon asked after a moment of silence and all you could do was nod. You felt his hands on your thighs again, rubbing up and down, every once in a while pulling at the fishnets and letting them snap back against your skin, “Yeah? Then why don’t you try moving those hips for me like you did earlier.”

Slowly you begin to roll your hips around his cock buried inside of you. Leon’s hands instantly stop to rest on the juncture between your hips and thighs, fingers squeezing into the meat of your skin and encouraging your movements, “Fuck there you go, good girl.”

The stimulation and the praise make you moan and ride him faster, your hands move to grip his shoulders as you begin bouncing a little. Leon curses and thrusts up into you, somehow reaching deeper and pushing against your cervix.

“Holy shit,” You moan when Leon pushes a hand between you and begins rubbing your clit, his other hand cupping the back of your head as he presses kisses to your jaw, “Leon, I’m gonna- fuck I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum baby, cum on my cock. Show me how good I make you feel.” Leon groans against your skin, his fingers moving faster against your clit and his hips thrusting up harder.

With a shout of the agent's name, you came, hard, your body tightening up and shaking from the amount of pleasure you felt. Leon fucked you through it, trying not to cum until he could pull out, but the feeling of your walls clamping around him was too much and he was tipping over the edge right with you.

You felt Leon’s hot cum spill inside of you, filling you up and causing another wave of pleasure to shoot through your body. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer and the two of you sat there together as you came down from your highs.

After a moment you pull away from the embrace and look at the man beneath you. Leon’s blue eyes were hazy as he stared at you and puckered his lips, asking for a kiss. You giggled and gave him one, hand sliding up his neck and cupping his cheeks.

“I have a hotel not too far from here if you want to get cleaned up,” Leon mumbled into the kiss.

You smirked, “You have an entire hotel? What exactly do they pay you?”

“I have a hotel room, smart ass.” Leon huffed, rolling his eyes and pulling away from you.

A chuckle escapes you, “Yeah I’ll go to your hotel room with you, on one condition.”

“Oh?” Leon raises an eyebrow, his hands resting on your thighs, “And what’s that?”

“We actually finish this game of tic-tac-toe.”

Taglist : @cassiecasluciluce @ymrai @admirxation @chessysourcandy @cinnamonminni @uriynne @rottenrosethorns

I did it guys I finally finished it!!! Hope it was worth the wait😭

[pearlzier]

miscalcᅟᅟ꒰͡ ‎ ‎⭒۫ ‎ ‎ִ ‎ ‎͡꒱ᅟᅟulation

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀from the inbox / ok kjnda self insert bc work is gonna kill mr but 18 y/o dean winchester pining after the loser/shy girl (reader) in class and goes to buy condoms before one of the hangouts/dates and sees them behind the counter (they work there) and have to cash him out. like reader is thinking that they were lowkey dating and didnt think anything was gonna happen so theyre like "hey whwt the hell man" until he has to be like "uhhhh they were supposed to be for us"

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀warnings / loser!fem/afab!reader, smut, public sex kinda. they're in the back of a convenience store (real classy), virgin!reader, p in v, reader is wearing jean skirt, off the shoulder sweater, knee high socks and converse, THEY USED A CONDOM so proud, fingering

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀author's notes / cringefail loser shy reader is so me + thank u to 💌 anon ilysm :3

YOU AND DEAN ARE PRETTY MUCH OPPOSITES. like, on the surface. dean is consider the absolute hottie mchotson of your class. girls would do fucking anything for him. all because he has pretty green eyes and a nice face and smooth voice and what the fuck—he's just the total package. it's not like he's a stupid jock or anything either, kid's pretty smart considering the fact he's been through more schools, towns and guns than one could count. despite being 'the new kid', he acts like he's been in the same class with everyone for the past.. forever.

which he hasn't.

but you have. you've been in the same grade as all of the kids in your class, the same elementary, middle, now, and most of them still can't remember your name. it would suck if you weren't used to it. you kept to yourself anyway, not really wanting to interact with the superifical people who populated your grade. having been given the title of a loser, you had taken it in stride and worn it likr a badge of honour. literally, who cared if everyone you saw for like the majority of your life thought you were weird.

a big issue though—dean really fucking likes you.

much to the absolute horror, mortification, whatever words would describe a hatred for the fact that dean had eyes for you, of your peers. the guy who was considered an absolute bombshell by near damn everyone in the vicinity was pining for you. you. like, even you thought it was a stupid joke, like the ones guys play to make their friends like them but really aren't funny whatsoever—but no, he really did like you.

his confession of the fact that he really does like you literally went like this:

"i like you," he told you. it had all started because he kept staring at you and you thought that was freaky and weird, but it also made you feel nice which was freaky and weird in its own right. you'd confronted him about it, in a movement of misplaced courage, and that was his response.

"what—" you thought it would've been some like—just, not this. not the fact he had the hots for you, because damn. it was no secret dean was hot as fuck, but, you never would've thought.. you—loser. him? bombshell. "you like me?"

he looked at you funny, but nodded. "yeah?"

the conversation was far too questioning than statement filled. it was more like who could ask the most questions in a minute. "oh," you said simply, displaying how inept at social interaction you are. was that what you were supposed to say when someone told you that they like you? probably not. but it simply fueled his attraction to you. "i mean, i like you too."

"you like me?" his words mirrored your own previously and you nod dumbly, blinking slowly for a moment as he processed your words. "cool," he says, simply. then he asks, "wanna go to the diner?" to which you swiftly agreed.

so the two of you would hang out often. it was like, a date, kind of. you considered it dating, what you two are doing. and dean does too, both of you are dating, in a relationship. you're his girlfriend, he's your boyfriend. but nothing had happened between you in terms of.. intimacy. you'd kissed a few times, cuddled at your place since his place was a so called 'no go zone' . and did all sorts of couply things. he'd recently taken you to a themepark and after doing all the sweet lovey dovey things you'd proceeded to throw up in a bush. you preferred getting to cuddle and watch a movie with him afterwards anyway.

you didn't think much of dean calling you the night prior to ask if he could come over the next day, wanting to visit you. "can i come over tomorrow?" he asked, voice low with sleep as he shifted in bed, the shifting of fabrics and pillows being heard over the landline.

"you're asking like i'd say no," was your retort, literally immediate. a chuckle bubbled from dean and he rolled his eyes at your sassy behaviour, "damn, alright, sweetheart, i'll see you tomorrow then." and the call ended. things between you and dean didn't have to be long winded, seeing as the two of you were so blunt in nature anyway. you went to bed happy knowing your boyfriend was gonna hang with you the next day.

unfortunately, a dearly beloved thing called work existed, and you had a shift to finish up before the bliss of being with dean hit you like a tsunami. your beloved place of work is a convenience store which so happens to be frequented by the majority of people who go to your school. thank god for a lack of uniform, you got to wear whatever you wanted as you dished out cigarettes and candy to someone who definitely wasn't old enough to buy the former. hey, you had a living to earn.

you're zoned out like crazy as some music plays in your headphones, no one having come up to the front to cash out anything they wanted in a while. faintly aware of the front door opening, hearing the bell chime, you simply wait for someone to come up to you rather than seek more work. you really don't get paid enough to do more than the bare minimum of cashing people out. soon, a figure appears infront of you and you process that first rather than the items being placed down on the counter. "dean!" your voice is excited, maybe you could go straight back to yours with him rather than trudge home on your own as you usually do.

"hey—" he looks like he'd been taken off guard by your presence. he blinks slowly, glancing down in a comically slow fashion and so your gaze follows his and you narrow your eyes for a moment. condoms. you look back ip and find his cheeks flushed, and the slightly irrational part of you jumps to the immediate thought that those condoms were in fact for some other chick.

"hey, what the fuck, dude," you frown, but you don't really want to jump to conclusions. a part of your mind thinks you should've expected this from a guy like dean but he seems so genuinely innocent and confused that you don't voice that thought and simply look at him expectantly with a narrowed gaze.

"it's not like that, it's—" dean doesn't know how to get what he means across without sounding weird which ends up having him sound like an absolute douchebag. he stares at you for a moment with those green eyes and he goes to speak, but you beat him to it.

"i know i'm not.. that cool, but what the hell, man—"

now he cuts you off, with an, "uhhhh, it was for us," which immediately shuts you the fuck up. you blink, staring at him, and he continues, "like, i know we haven't done anything.. but uh, i wanted to see—if we did, i wanted to be prepared, y'know, sweetheart? i sound insane, shit."

"no, you don't, that's actually really sweet," you mumble, embarassed that you'd jumped to conclusions so quickly. a soft smile adorns dean's lips and he leans against the counter, catching your attention with a little look. "so do i get these condoms for free, considering my reasons for purchase?"

"shut the fuck up," you grumble, unclipping your name tag as you'd decided to go on a self-proclaimed break. you wander around the counter and flip the sign on the door to the one with horribly scrawled—'gone 4 lunch, be back or something'—before you hear dean muse, "guess that's a yes then." he thinks you look adorable in your jean skirt and off the shoulder sweater—not to forget the knee highs and converse.

"you're not mad at me, are you?" dean decides to ask as he pockets the now free condoms, making his way over to you whilst you head into the backroom. his eyes flutter around for a moment before he sits himself down on a box, taking you in for a moment before he glances away, finding himself noticing a lot more than he usually does.

"no, m'not mad," your head shakes as you slide your headphones into your backpack, and the test of the stuff you'd brought with you to work to pass the time. you're about to speak about how dean's unusually quiet when you feel him behind you, his hands sliding to your hips gently. he gently sways you, and a laugh bubbles from your throat, "what are you doing?"

"trying to uhm.." he doesn't actually know, and he scratches the back of his head for a minute before he twirls you around into his body and a boyish grin adorns his handsome features. "seduce you," seduce you? nice going dean.

"seduce me, huh? real smooth," dean didn't want to scare you or like frighten you or anything but.. he wanted to go a little further than the simple kisses and cuddles the two of you were so prone to. it's almost like you can tell he's thinking this, but maybe that's because he's so close and you can feel his jeans start to tent a little bit at the front against your thighs. "are we gonna—"

"only if you want to," dean had been with a few girls in the past, but he never felt the way he feels about you towards them. you'd had partners before but you'd never been physical with anyone in your life. the most you'd done is kiss, and the most you'd done with dean is kiss too. "if it's okay with you, i don't wanna make you unco—"

you shut him up by pressing your lips to his, which dean graciously accepts, and returns the kiss. his hands slide over the curve of your thigh as he tugs you closer to him, his plush lips parting with a soft breath and to slip his tongue into your mouth. this isn't new for you guys, the whole kissing thing, but it feels charged differently. "always feel so good," he breaths gently into your mouth, grasping tightly at you.

the two of you pull apart for a moment. there's a moment of quiet between the two of you before dean grasps at your thighs and lifts you onto the couch. it's got questionable stains on it, and most likely isn't the dream place to lose your virginity on but with dean? it is a dream. it really does. "you touched yourself before?"

you practically splutter at the question, lashes fluttering at it. you nod meekly for a moment though, chest rising and falling in gentle breaths. your weight shifts on the couch and you mumble, "yeah, i have," he seems pleased with this fact, as he mutters, "makes my job easier."

"just relax for me," he says softly, pushing you back. he runs his eyes over your figure for a moment, taking you in before he starts hiking up your skirt. "you feelin' good still? okay?" he asks gently, wanting to know whether you're still comfortable with what he's doing.

"m'good, m'okay," you affirm, feeling a twitch in your thigh with his fingers brushing your soft skin. he's hiking your skirt up your thighs, bunching it up around your waist before he meets your gaze again. swallowing hard, your chest rises and falls in gentle breaths. "just.. feels different."

"good different?" dean cocks a brow as he meets your gaze, fingers curling into the side of your panties before he slid them down your thighs. a soft smirk plays on his lips, and he coos gently at the sight of your puffy, wet count without fabric covering it. he swallows hard, not wanting to get ahead of himself but practically straining against his jeans with every look at you he gets. it's not fair on his heart nor his dick.

you flinch a little at the cold air hitting your pussy, "what? yeah, yeah, good different," your words are mumbled out, mind a little fuzzy from his fingers brushing up over your inner thigh. you meet his gaze, swallowing thickly. "good different."

"good," dean says quietly, blue eyes fluttering over you for a moment before he runs his fingers through your folds gently, a soft groan slipping past his lips at the wet sounds made by the action. you squirm beneath his touch, eyes meeting his once more. he starts once more, "gotta get you ready for me, okay? don't want it to hurt. gotta get you nice 'n' ready," he explains what hes doing, thumb sliding to your clit to apply gentle pressured circles. "is that good? d'you like that?"

judging by the pretty sounds coming from you, you like it a lot. "feels.. uhm," you don't know how to describe it since it's so different. "really good," dean laughs at your words with a little shake of his head.

"just good, huh?" dean muses, "think i can do better than that," he circles his thumb over your clit in a tight circle once more before his fingers glide over your soaked entrance. he runs his free hand through his hair for a moment before he pushes his fingers slowly inside your hole, watching the way you let out a soft sound instinctively at the intrusion. dean seeks your hand at that moment, his fingers interlacing with yours so he can hold your hand tight.

returning the grip, you hold onto his hand tight with a shaky breath. your free hand cradles his hand as your fingers interlace with his own, and you bring it close to your chest for a second. "holy shit," his fingers are bigger than your own, fill you a little more than your own and just.. feel better than rubbing one out. honestly, you're glad this isn't like the most romantic thing ever because you probably would've started bawling your damn eyes out. because he was being so sweet.

"you like that?" dean asks gently, coaxing his fingers further within you before they go as far as he can push them. you're so tight around him, he has to wait a little before he can slip them back again. he repeats the motion a few times to fight against your warm resistance before he gains a gentle rhythm, "this good? still feels good?

you were almost getting annoyed with him asking if it felt okay because he knew damn well it did, but it meant a lot that he was caring so much for your wellbeing even when he really just wanted to get inside you. "still feels good," you affirm with a gentle squeeze of his hand, and dean smiles softly, nodding. he tugs you closer, pumping his fingers into your wet hole fervently. seeing the way your legs tremble, he decides to rub tight circles on your clit in the process of thrusting his fingers. he meets your gaze, and he nods, "i got you."

borderline overwhelmed, your grip tightens hard on his hand. but dean can take it, so he simply brings you closer, continuing his motions. "dean—" your words are practically a whine, eyes darting away for a second, almost embarassed that you're coming so early. but you're sensitive and have never felt this good in your life, so within seconds, your thighs are trembling around his hand, a building pressure in your abdomen growing.

"close, huh?" he asks gently, feeling how your walls tighten around his fingers. he keeps up the pace, even increasing it to get you over the edge. you whimper shakily, crying out as your climax hits you like a damn wave. you pant, chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. dean's quiet for a moment, taking you in, in all your blissed out state. a soft, breathy chuckle slipping past his lips, he slowly eases his fingers from you. he watches how they glisten with your release, gently wiping it off on his jeans. "did amazin', shit," he's amazed by you, wholeheartedly. he'd dreamt, literally, of having you like this before and holy fucking shit, to have you like this, it makes his heart race.

"i feel like literal jelly," you breath out shakily, a breathless laugh escaping you. he smiles, sliding his hands to your hips and bringing you into his body once more. "is it like, time to—what do people even say when they have sex, i feel so stupid," dean laughs at that, shaking his head, "you sound fine, okay? and uh, yeah, i guess. i don't think i can wait anymore, s'practically killin' me."

shifting his weight, he lowers you back down against the couch and starting to unbutton his jeans, tugging down the zip afterwards. he tugs down the denim past his thighs, letting it pool around his ankles before he steps out of it. "damn," you mutter as you take him in, eyes dropping down to the bulge in his boxers before you meet his gaze, "need me to take care of that?" you joke, flashing a gentle smile before you giggle.

"you're such a fuckin' dork," dean rolls his eyes, watching you just for a second. his fingers curl into the waistband of his boxers, and he tugs them down over his thighs too. you instantly run your eyes over his cock, taking in the way his length hits against his abdomen, the precum oozing from the tip making it glisten slightly—you'd never seen a dick in person before but you were sure he had the prettiest one. "like what you see?" he can't help himself, flashing a gentle grin.

"looks like it, right?" you mutter, and he rolls his eyes, pumping his hand over his dick a few times, precum dripping over his hand for a moment. "gonna be smart with me, huh? after i've been so nice? breakin' my heart, babe," the two of you smile at eachother, and you shift your weight, a little apprehensive.

"what's it gonna feel like?" you wonder outloud, eyes meeting his. dean's quiet for a minute, grunting under his breath with a final pump of his dick before he rummages in his pocket for a moment. tugging out the condom packet, he tore it open with his teeth. he glanced at it for a moment before he slowly rolled it onto his cock, a breathy sound slipping past his lips. when he's done, he aligns himself with your entrance, smearing your juices around your hole once more as a precaution.

"full," dean knows what it'll feel like for him, tight, amazing, wet, the best feeling of his entire life. but for you? he'd never thought about it all that much. "good," he seems certain about that.

"you sure?" even you're a tiny bit sceptical.

"you don't believe me? you're gonna feel good, baby, i'll make sure of it," with that, dean slowly pushes the head of his cock into you, grunting almost immediately at how tight you are. his eyes roll back into his head a little, and you squeeze your eyes shut, lips parting with a soft breath. "see, feelin' good already and i haven't even fucked you yet," that's the side of dean you knew was hiding, from the moment he kissed you earlier. the cocky side of him, self assured, the one who knows that he's good in bed, the one who knows he can fuck a girl good.

"and why haven't you fucked me yet, dean?"

"tryna' be patient here, jesus. but you're beggin' me to fuck you? really fuck you? was gonna make love, but, y'know," he takes your words as an indication that you're ready. he bucks his hips a little more and he bottoms out within you, causing a sharp gasp to escape you. "and there we go, there she is. mm, feel so tight. so tight. been dreamin' 'bout this pussy since i met you," he's balls deep inside you, and you're proud of yourself for not cumming the moment he pushed into you. you grip his hands instantly, both of them this time, not wanting to let go. your eyes meet his and he looks proud of himself, self-assured, but so glad you're feeling good.

"please, uh, uh.. move," you say after you've adjusted to the size of him, your thighs drenched with your own juices already. dean nods his head gently, not before hiking your legs up around his waist to give him that leverage to thrust into you properly. "and if you ask me whether m'sure i swear to god de—"

he cuts you off by pulling out then thrusting back into you again, setting a quick pace. "you start gettin' mouthy with me, i gotta show you who's the expert, okay? i wanna hear those noises, 'cause i know they're pretty," his hips snap into yours, the sounds of skin smacking against skin ringing in your ears. you're dazed with the feeling of him pounding in and out of you, a feeling you've never felt before. but it feels so familiar, so right that it's like you've done this forever.

he was right, you do sound so pretty as he fucks into you again and again and again, showing that he does in fact know what he's doing and that he is in fact the expert here. not you. just watch and learn, is his point here. "i'm gonna, uh, fuck, come again—" you weren't gonna last long with him pounding into you like this, his balls smacking against your cunt only causing more pleasure and more wet, filthy sounds. "m'sorry.." you apologise, feeling a little pathetic for it.

"don't apologise," he mumbles, sliding his hand to your back and drawing you in closer, so he buries deeper inside you but also so he can hold you closer. "don't you apologise to me, babe, wanna feel it, wanna feel you come around me, that's all i ask." and you obliged, squeezing his hand tighter than ever as you gushed around his cock, making a mess of him. dean glanced down to see your juices practically spray out of you, and he smiles coyly, not slowing in his motions. you squirm, and he mutters gently, "just a little more, promise, just a little."

you relax, the faint feeling of overstimulation creeping up on you. however it doesn't last that long, as you feel dean's hip movements stutter then come to an end, buried inside you as he panted. his ropes of cum painted the inside of the condom white, a shaky whine slipping past his lips as he meets your gaze. "god, that was—"

"amazing," you breathed out, relaxing back against the couch. "i'd love to go again, but uhm, i—"

"s'alright, i get it," dean shifted, keeping himself within you. he maneuvers the both of you so you're on top of him. not for riding purposes, you guys could try that another time, but so he could hold him close. his hand cradles the back of your head gently, and he nuzzles you into him. "we should've done that earlier."

you mumble in agreement, "agreed," as you relax against him. "honestly, i was thinking of quitting this place but turns out it's a literal sex charm."

"we did not just fuck because you work at a convenience store, don't get that in your head, babe, i swear—"

𓈒⠀ ✧ @wi4hfulth1nking @t3l3vangelism @xoxotiffanysheree @https-roman @blue-d @lavieurs @drewstarkeyzwhore @a-cup-of-nightshade @1-read-the-hobbit-in-1937

[formulawolff]

xvii. facing reality - t.w.

pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: 2.9k

warnings: cursing, age gap relationships, (slight) sexism, unfair treatment of drivers, toto being down bad per usual, mentions of divorce, allegations of infidelity, james being a dick, yadayadayada

a/n: i am aware that it is solely up to the drivers in terms of contract talks, negotiations, etc. however, let's just pretend that we do not see it and that there are some restrictions when it comes to our golden girl. okay? okay cool :p

prev. | next.

the only noise was the dull roar of the engine, and well, the occasional shuffle of papers as he flips through his notebook, careful not to produce much movement in his shoulder.

nestled on his right shoulder was your head, your breathing rhythmic, both arms cuddling his bicep. 

turning his head, his mouth places a kiss on your temple, “i love you, sweet girl.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

the ease in which the words flowed from his lips sent a ripple of bliss throughout his chest. the warm, cozy feeling only intensifies tenfold as you wrinkle your nose, nuzzling into the fabric of his button-up. although you’re deep in slumber, you respond, voice thickened with exhaustion.

“i love you, toto.”

“get some rest,” he murmurs, “i’ll wake you when we make it to montreal.”

sometimes the bustling season schedule had its perks. since drivers were not required to fly in with their teams to races, typically everyone flew separately from their respective locations. so, toto had you accompany him on his jet to canada, where the two of you could be alone for just a little while longer.

approximately twelve hours longer, where you would have to go your separate ways once landing. it was arranged that theodore would be driving you to the track, where you would be able to reunite with alex and the rest of the williams crew.

meanwhile, mr. wolff had a few business obligations to attend. one was a meeting with a few potential investors for the 2025 season, while the other obligation was a little more personal.

someone had to recognize your accomplishments over the last few weeks. 

and he was going to be that person.

to add to your bracelet, toto arranged a meeting with a private jeweler where he would pick out four more charms to add to your bracelet. 

one for sazuka. one for miami. one for emilia romagna. and finally, one for monaco. 

the initial plan was to gift you the new charms before qualifying, so that you could have a few more additions to your bracelet. in toto’s mind, he liked to imagine that the bracelet was your good luck charm. 

after all, it seemed to be working. 

with the current driver standings, you were at the top of the board. max was behind you, trailing by a decent amount of points. at his tail was charles leclerc, lando norris in fourth. although your name was a hot topic in the world of formula one, rumors flying that you were the main contender for the title, it was still too early to make any definitive judgments. 

formula one was ever-changing. a single race could shift the leaderboard, as many drivers were close in points. a single weekend could also shift the team standings, as williams was now thrust in the mix for the second or third spot, fighting tooth and nail with red bull, ferrari and mclaren. 

it was all thanks to you. your reflexes, your critical thinking, your ability to remain level-headed under pressure, and your exceptional knowledge of the cars and the sport were the reason why williams was in their position.

it was the sole reason why you were the leader of the pack. sure, the car helped, but a majority of the credit was due to the american driver. 

the first american female driver to ever win points. the first to ever win a grand prix. the first woman to win five consecutive grand prixes.

the only woman to ever win a grand prix. 

you were one of one. 

additionally, you were the second woman in the history of the sport to ever score points, decades after lella lombardi paved the way. 

there was so much at stake, so much weight to be carried on your shoulders. 

yet, here you were, lightly snoring, your lips parted as your brows twitched, lashes fluttering. 

it seemed the closer the two you got, there was always something that tried to pry you further apart. 

hours ago, toto received an email in his inbox from the mercedes public relations team, formally asking the team principal if he could maintain his distance from the williams driver. this was mainly for the sake of the image of the team as a whole. 

to manage this, he needed to refrain from speaking to the driver in either one of the garages, in the paddock, in any area of the track or designated team areas. this was to be during press conferences, and well throughout any public interaction with the driver before, during, or between racing events. 

of course, mercedes supported the decisions he made in his personal life wholeheartedly and wanted nothing but the best for him when it came to his romantic and personal endeavors. however, with the current public perception of his romantic relationship with the williams driver, it was best that he focused solely on the team and their potential accomplishments for the time-being. the team was his top priority for the weekend. 

oh, and the most crucial aspect of the entire email. 

we hope that you abide by our advice and take the necessary precautions. we are hoping for a great weekend in canada!

some fucking email that was.

although there was no formal threat of repercussions, the team principal was not going to take any risks. 

even if it slightly killed him inside to do so.

it appeared that in order to have access to you, toto was going to have to tread carefully. there would have to be thoroughly coordinated meetings, where he would have to sneak away just to even catch a glimpse of your gorgeous face. he would have to slip into your motorhome in the late hours of the night, just as he used to in jeddah, suzuka, and miami. 

however, since that kiss in monaco, things were a little more intense. 

there were eyes now. on both of you. 

eyes that would follow his every move, watching as he departed from the paddock or garage. eyes that were trained by pr teams to ensure that the delicate mercedes reputation remained intact. eyes that were determined to keep the two of you separated, no matter his frustration or protest. 

you were going to be so close, yet so far. 

he would be able to look, but not touch. 

and fuck, was that shit was going to drive him absolutely insane. 

on a similar note, you had gotten the notification from the williams public relation team just as you were boarding the jet. 

although you received the same sort of message within the email, you also happened to get a text from james. 

that one was far more threatening, laced with a sour bitterness that had toto’s blood boiling, his fists tightening on the armrests, knuckles tinged white. 

i do not want to see you look in the direction of the mercedes paddock while we’re in montreal. and if i catch you talking to him between practices or the race…

as much as toto prompted you to get into contact with the human resources department to report the text, you protested. mostly due to the fact that you were already in hot water with williams. despite their reassurances that you were not to face consequences for monaco, there was still that anxiety gnawing away at you, an ever-looming thought in the back of your mind. 

even if you weren’t in trouble for your romantic pursuits, williams had made it very clear that they did not approve of the relationship. 

at least, their public relations department, some members of the board, and james, your team principal, had made it very clear. 

and to you, that was enough to keep you on your best behavior. 

however, there were approximately eleven more hours of the flight before you made it to your destination. 

for the mercedes team principal, that meant he had to savor your presence for eleven more hours before the two of were forced to go your separate ways. 

fuck the mercedes pr team for suggesting those pitiful rules. fuck the williams pr team for reminding you of their disapproval. 

and most importantly, fuck james vowles for speaking to you that way. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“there she is!” 

“hi,” you wave, suppressing a giggle as he waggles his brows, pointing finger guns in your direction.

“how’d it gooo? did you two lay under the starlight and give one another googly eyes until the sun rose over the beautiful mountains of monte carlo?”

alex is peering at you, his gaze honed in as you shrug, “it was fine.” 

he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “you guys spent days together and you can’t tell me a single detail?” 

carefully, you scan the room, taking in your surroundings. currently, you were in the williams paddock, situated next to alex in one of the many debrief rooms. james was going to arrive any minute, ben in tow, along with members of the core crew. 

keeping your voice low, you fidget with the sleeves your hoodie, grateful for the traces of citrus and spice that lingered, “james texted me before i boarded my flight here.” 

alex straightens in his seat, leaning forward so that your voice didn’t have to carry, “no shot. what did he say?” 

“he said that he didn’t want me to even look in the direction of the mercedes paddock,” the words are shaky, brimmed with apprehension, “the text had a really off-putting tone to it. toto wanted me to report it but i’m not sure if i should. i’m already in an awkward position with williams and i don’t want to complicate things further.” 

alex’s tongue runs along his lower lip, the driver’s brows scrunched together. there’s concern glittering in his gaze, his fingers resting on his chin. 

“that’s really shitty of james considering i was there at that meeting following monaco. everyone seemed to be in good standing with one another. i remember patrick reminding you over and over again that you weren’t in any sort of trouble. maybe he said that so you could focus on the race this weekend?” 

“probably,” you mutter, slumping into the chair, “it just fucking sucks, you know? all of this back and forth. it’s like having fucking vertigo. one minute i feel like i’m on cloud nine, and the world loves me. james is over the moon, and the crew is hoisting me up into the air. within seconds, everyone is avoiding me. they’re shooting me dirty looks or spreading shit about me on social media. they’ll murmur under their breath that i’m a homewrecker or a slut.”

before you know it, alex has several tissues is his grasp, gently laying them on your thigh. raising your read, you feel the slickness of tears on your heated cheeks, your palms clammy as you wipe them on your sweats.

“i cannot imagine how fucking hard this must be for you.” 

“it is,” your lower lip trembles as you dab the tissue on your lids, “why do you think i flew out to monte carlo? why do you think i’ve been avoiding wantage? ignoring the emails? i just don’t feel like my relationship with williams is genuine anymore. sometimes i regret that race in monaco–”

“hey,” a thumb massages your shoulder, his voice light, “don’t ever feel guilty about that race.”

you shake your head, the words spilling out of gritted teeth, “if i would have let charles overtale me, he would have won. i would have never left that podium. i would have never kissed–”

“everything okay in here?” 

a voice rings through the room, your head swiveling to the doorway.

james enters the room, the williams crew following in suit. using your sleeve, you brush away the tears, exhaling as alex tosses the tissues in the nearest trash bin. he scrunches his nose, nudging you with his knee.

“you’re welcome for that.”

“what would i do without you?” a laugh bubbles up in your throat as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, bringing you in for an affectionate embrace. 

his mouth hovers by your ear, eyes darting to james before shifting back to you, “we can talk more later. i promise. i want to know how you and your pookie bear are doing!”

“okay you two,” james clicks his tongue, “i hate to interrupt gossip hour, but it’s time to discuss racing strategies for the weekend. unfortunately spilling secrets about a certain team principal does not get us anywhere in terms of winning.”

at his snide remark, you feel a twinge of frustration brew in your stomach, churning it into a knot as james’ attention falls on you, his arms folded across his chest, brow arched ever so slightly. 

“can you promise us that you’ll be one hundred percent focused on the race this weekend? one hundred percent dedicated to williams and only williams?”

your jaw clenches, brows knitting together, “isn’t that what i’ve been – yes. i can promise you that.i’ll be dedicated to the team this weekend, just as i’ve always been.”

“good,” james’ expression is unreadable as he tuts, “okay! let’s get started. ben, would you like to begin with the latest upgrades to the cars?”

mirroring the others, you slide the headphones over your ears, ben’s voice drowning in your ears as dives into the subject at hand. 

as much as your mind wanted you to pay attention, to listen closely, you were not present. 

not one bit.

your thoughts were elsewhere, wandering back to that one individual.

toto. 

fuck, did your heart absolutely ache. 

how were you supposed to maintain your distance for an entire weekend if you could barely keep it together after merely hours apart? 

you could sense your knee bouncing, your teeth gnashing into your cheek, chewing away at the flesh. 

fuck, this was going to suck.  

your thumbs itch, urging you to fish your phone out of your pocket. yet, you know that shouldn’t, as there were numerous eyes right along with you in the room. there were a few times in which you did glance at your phone in the past during debriefings, but that was to simply check notifications, pull up footage, or type a quick response to send back to toto. 

if james happened to catch you peeking at your phone? oh god, he would probably treat you like some sort of child and have you sit right next to him. just so that he could observe your every move and ensure that you were honed in on the tasks at hand. fuck, if he was frustrated enough, he would probably snatch that phone right out of your hand, keeping it until you all were finished. 

the treatment you were receiving since monaco was becoming more and more insulting. almost degrading, really. 

sure, you were at the top of the leaderboard. sure, you were one of the best drivers that the team had signed in a years. sure, you were writing history with every record you shattered. 

but when you were involved with the team principal of mercedes, those things didn’t really matter. you were treated like a petulant child, disciplined for something that was beyond your control. 

there was no reason to punish you over the man you were in love with. 

yet, that was just the reality of the situation. 

as harsh as it was, it was probably wise to keep the two of you separated. although the pr teams were working overtime, busting their asses to squash the rumors, to silence those whispers, there were still the ever-looming truths.

one, you were engaging in a romantic relationship with a man thirty years older than you. 

two, toto was recently divorced. that was not a good look for each party involved. it raised the questions of how long the two of you were really talking, how long you had been tiptoeing around. the heated debates if you actually knew about the divorce or if you were a homewrecker.

and of course, the third and final truth.

the mercedes amg petronas was searching to sign their second driver for the 2025 season. toto especially, as he was their main scout, announcing numerous times that he had spoken with a menagerie of drivers, even beyond formula one. 

the hot gossip was that you were to be that second driver. you were the prized pick, a valuable asset to any team on the grid. the apple of toto’s eye. the object of his every desire. the final piece to his puzzle. 

although the entire world was under the impression that they were just speculations, they were blissfully unaware that it was indeed the truth. 

toto was going to approach james after the canadian grand prix with his proposal. 

all he needed was that blessing, the nod of approval to begin the contract talks.

however, there was that one uncertainty. the one thing that both of you were unsure of, waves of anxiety pumping through your veins each time your mind wandered. 

there was that possibility that james could say no. that there would be no contract talks.

even though it ultimately was up to the driver, the fia had made it very clear there were to be no private meetings, nothing left in the dark. especially if you were to depart ways from williams and sign with mercedes. 

so if james said no, you would be fucked. 

majorly, utterly, completely fucked. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

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as always, thank you guys for the endless support on this series! let me know if you would like to be tagged! we have about three chapters left! i love you all!! <33

[toxicanonymity]

the narrative.

4.7k, darkish!Javi Gutierrez x f!reader

"Control the narrative. You probably say that when you cum." - Roman Roy, Succession, s1 e1. PREMISE: Javi is in the middle of a publicity disaster due to his illegal activities and big mouth. Enter you (and he will). Penthouse vibe and attire inspired by Justified City Primeval. WARNINGS: I8+ ONE SHOT, dark(ish?) Javi, canon-typical lack of realism, drug references, gratuitous bulge, alcohol, praise, mention of someone sucking Javi's dick in the past, unprofessional behavior, power dynamics, pressure, DUBCON unsafe p in v (etc.), mild gun play, romance. A/N: Dedicated to @noxturnalpascal 🖤 Never thought I'd start the year with this guy, but thots happened. I only have one other Javi G. fic.

When you show up to Javi's home in the Hollywood hills, you're mildly surprised the car is stopping. It looks like any other skyrise. It's not his main residence, but he has the whole top floor to himself. You’ve refreshed yourself on the task during the ride – Javi Gutierrez is a PR nightmare lately, and he needs to be reminded how to handle press, especially questions about his recent run-ins with the law and ties to his family business. You'll run through a few practice questions with him, refresh him on the way to his event, and say goodbye. It should be simple. 

On your way into Javi’s building, the concierge greets you, then makes polite conversation as he escorts you to the penthouse. 

"Mr. Gutierrez already has company," he mentions as he uses a key card then holds the door open for you. 

You step into Javi’s apartment and the door closes behind you. It feels intrusive, just showing up in his personal space without someone to introduce you.  It's quiet for a moment, and you take in the opulence -- the sky high ceilings, the glittery floor sparkling under your modest wedge heels. You adjust your little black dress and fix your hair, then stand and wait with your bag.

You take a deep, calming breath. At least this isn’t a celebrity you have a crush on. He isn’t necessarily your type. He seems like such a teddy bear. He’ll be cool. He’s down to earth, you tell yourself, but can’t think of any evidence to support that claim. What kind of company does he have, you wonder. Is it a woman?

"One more, one more," Javi begs out of view, and your breath hitches at his voice. It's not the pitch or measured cadence you hear in the movies or even interviews. It's deep, gruff, and unpolished. "One more, Nick." 

Your heart jumps at the name. 

Nick sighs. "Alright, what are we drinking to?"

"Balas y drogas," Javi booms. (Bullets and drugs). "Brindemos" (cheers). 

"As always," Nick monotones, and you hear their glasses clink. A few seconds later, boots begin to click and echo, and they're coming in your direction. 

Entranced by the sparkle of the floor, you see a pair of snakeskin boots cross in front of you first. The boots pause, and your gaze pans up over his unexpectedly bare legs, which are muscular and only slightly hairy. Your eyes continue up over the swell of his thighs, and then–by the time you see it, it’s too late not to look right at it--a generous bulge under a blue striped swimsuit. You yank your eyes upward so fast, you almost don't see the gold pistol he’s holding at his side. Javi raises an empty highball glass, gestures it toward you, and you're studying the rings his hand when he complains, "You are early." He taps a ring on the glass and looks around behind you. “They sent you alone?”

“Yes, Mr. Gutierrez.” You introduce yourself. When you speak, he holds surprisingly warm eye contact, given his opening line. It feels like he’s really seeing you, maybe even connecting with you. 

“Please, call me Javi.” He walks around the counter and makes no effort to close his silk robe, trailing behind him.  "Make yourself a drink," he nods toward a wet bar behind him as he puts his glass in the sink. His curls are a mess, but he doesn't look bad. His strong chest glistens under his gold chain.  "Make Nick something, too. NICK--" 

"I'm right here, Javi. I really have to go." Nick greets you with an unenthused nod, "Hi,” then his phone rings and he quickly bids farewell to Javi: "I'll see ya later bud." Nick slowly staggers toward the door as he answers the phone. 

-

As the door closes behind Nick, Javi watches your face. "He has a key, you know. He'll be back," then he again urges you toward the wet bar, slightly more politely this time.  "Please, help yourself.  Why did they send you so early?"

"I'm an hour late," you tell him. His security team stalled you because he wasn’t ready.

He looks at his gold watch. "Mierda" (Shit). He meets your gaze again with apologetic eyes. "An hour late. . . maybe I do like you. . ."  The third time he refers you to the bar, you go around the counter and at least browse his liquor selection. 

A few minutes later, you're mindlessly reading the liquor bottles when you see a reflection in a bottle of mezcal. Something moves behind you.

"Tequila," Javi murmurs a few inches from your ear. “If you cannot decide.” You stiffen but manage not to jump, or so you think. "Relax, mamacita.” A large, warm hand comes to your bare shoulder, making your chest get hot. Javi’s lips brush the shell of your ear. “Relax,” he repeats. “It is only Javi.” He smells faintly of pipe or hookah smoke.

He lingers for a moment, smells your hair, then his hand trails down your bicep, and butterflies rush through your body so fast you have to step away.  He looks only slightly bemused. He checks you out even more obviously this time, then silently walks backwards through the kitchen, and you forget not to stare. You follow the way the light highlights his little belly. His happy trail leads you right to the slight swing and jiggle of the massive lump precariously contained by that swimsuit. How much of it is balls, you wonder. And at that moment, he reaches down to adjust himself before turning around and heading to his bedroom. 

Your face is on fire, and you’re tingling down South. You pour yourself a drink. You need one. The floor-to-ceiling windows offer quite a view of the city. It feels like Javi is taking a long time. In the distance, he begins to sing. You didn’t expect to be attracted to him, but now you have this feeling in your chest, like you’re waiting for a date with someone you like. Someone you’re still getting to know. You try to brush it off and not read too much into the look in his eyes. He’s an actor. He probably knows how to make people feel special, you remind yourself, but you can’t help but feel a little giddy as you wait. 

You take a seat on his velvet sectional. You sip your drink and begin to feel more confident. When you go to put your drink down on the nearest coffee table, there isn't much space amid the array of empty bottles and glasses, and a hookah. You set your drink on a silver tray, and only then do you realize you've disrupted the geometric residue of tiny white lines. “Shit,” you whisper. 

While Javi gets ready, you read some of his past quotes to the press. It messes with your head. Sure, he was rude to you at first, but then so warm. There’s one particular quote you’re stuck on. It isn’t too hard to imagine him saying something like this. You catch yourself feeling sad about it, not because it was so rude of him, but because of the insinuation of him with another woman.  In your mind, you know this feeling is irrational after having only interacted with Javi for only a moment. You have to compose yourself into professional mode again. 

—-

Javi returns freshly showered, wearing slacks and a patterned, long-sleeve, button-up shirt that hugs his biceps. He checks you out as he fastens his last cuff link. Then he sucks in his stomach and tucks in his shirt by shoving his hands all the way into his pants. He keeps eye contact with you as he tucks in the front, and finishes it off with a subtle cup of his balls. Then he stands normally again, and the curve of his little belly presses against the shirt above his pants. He doesn't put on a belt. He gestures for you to walk in front of him. 

Javi stays close on the way downstairs. On the elevator, you can feel his breath on your cheek. When the doors open, his hand on your back ushers you out. The soft padding of his stomach grazes your arm.

—-

Back outside Javi’s apartment, the car you arrived in – the one that picked you up at the Dobis PR office – is gone. You’ll ride in Javi’s car. His security team wants to accompany the two of you in the vehicle, and it’s clear they normally ride with Javi. But Javi convinces them to follow in another car this time. Just this once. You get into a black Mercedes sprinter outfitted with a raised roof, big leather bench seat, and a bar. 

As you settle into the van, Javi is making sure you’re comfortable, making small talk, and you just want to chat with him, but you do have a job to do. He’s sitting in the corner of the bench in the very back of the van, and you’re next to him, with your body mostly facing him. You begin to broach the topic at hand, distracted by his closeness and the aftershave molecules wafting into your nostrils. “Okay Javi, so, I’m familiar with your, uh, difficulties with law enforcement recently, and my role here is to kinda help you help yourself with that in the press.”  

He nods. 

“So let’s start where we are. Do you remember what you said when Page Six asked for a comment?”

He briefly leans in the opposite direction from you to open the minifridge. He pulls out a bottle of champagne. “Page Six, remind me which one is that.”

Is he going to make you say it? Fine. “You don't remember telling the writer her lips were made to suck your dick?” 

“That was out of context,” he mutters. You search his face for whether it‘s a joke, but he’s not laughing, and he’s not meeting your eyes.  

You ask, “Is there a context where that’s a good comment to make?” And you hope it lands softer than it sounds to your own ears. 

“Yes,” Javi nods and brushes a curl out of his forehead. He shifts in the seat and wrings his hand around the neck of the champagne bottle in his lap. “With a cock in her mouth.” Hearing the word cock in his voice gives you a zing of arousal. 

You’re at a loss for words. “Are you saying you weren't answering a question when you said that?”

“The conversation was over,” Javi nods. 

“--And she had your–”

“My cock, yes,” he confirms. “In her mouth.” He reads your face, then shrugs. “She wanted a taste of Javi, and I am afraid I could not resist.” Your mind is going places - How did that happen, you wonder. Did she just drop to her knees? Does it happen all the time? Could you have a taste of Javi? Do you want one? No, you don’t want to be just another girl.

You and Javi look at each other for a moment, neither of you completely focused, then you say the only thing you can think to say, “Fair enough,” as you close your folio. Then you can’t help but add, “Optimally, it's not the best idea to sleep with. . . certain people . . .who can make you look bad.” The thought falls apart as you watch his face, and you wonder if you're overstepping. 

“It was only a mouth,” Javi clarifies, then lowers his voice. “I would never make the love to her.” 

Now his eyes are fixed on your lips. His mind is going places. You watch him salivate over the shape of your mouth and don’t dare to interrupt his filthy train of thought. But that bulge in his swim trunks is seared in your mind. The subtle way it moved with each step. You have to stare at anything else to keep your eyes off his pants. You look at the bits of silver in his beard and the sparkle in his eyes

“Hm?” he asks and you snap out of your trance. 

“We need to control the narrative,” you mumble, as if you're thinking about work. 

“I don’t have a narrative, I have the truth. And the truth is too dangerous, mami.” He extends an arm behind you. 

The intrigue shakes you from your dirty thoughts. You shouldn’t pry, so you try not to, but having heard his explanation for the Page Six comment, you’re wondering if there really is a good explanation for how he got caught riding dirty with both narcotics and unregistered weapons.

He scoots closer, so he’s mostly on your bench rather than in the corner, and he extends an arm behind you. “I have to say, you are a smart girl.” He brushes your shoulder with his thumb. “Very pretty, too,” he adds quietly. “And very smart not to ask.”

“Thanks,” you mumble. What else can you say?

He looks you over, and his face hardens in an instant. “You should fire them,” he says. “They put a pretty girl like you in a van with me.” He scoffs. “They don’t respect you, I’m sorry to say.” 

What is that supposed to mean? You stare at him blankly, then say, “I can’t fire them, I work for them.”

“Well then you should fire your job. Quit it, the job.” You suppose he’s that out of touch. He probably doesn’t even know how much rent is in LA. Increasingly incredulous, he asks, “They sent you here alone?” 

Your mouth feels dry. You nod and try to swallow. 

His face softens. “No, please do not be scared,” he tries to recover, cupping your shoulder warmly with his palm. “But they should care more about you. You are precious.” 

“Well. . . Thanks, I think I’ll be okay,” you stammer.

Javi chuckles and locks all the doors to the van. Your upper body quickly goes cold as he settles in again next to you, his knee touching yours. How did he even do that?

He smiles darkly. “You felt that, right? In your spine?” His thumb brushes the nape of your neck, then the top of your spine.

You nod, otherwise paralyzed. 

“Fire them,” he repeats in a whisper.

You stand up just an inch to smooth your dress, and before you can sit back down, the van lurches out of nowhere.  You’re propelled face-first into Javi’s arms. The unopened bottle of champagne rolls away. Your faces are only a few inches apart. His shirt is soft, his body is warm, and you’re breathing his minty breath. The van lurches again and he hugs you into him, protectively. 

“I apologize, sir,” the driver announces through a speaker. 

You slowly begin to sit up from him. His arms are slow to release you. As you sit up, he lays a hand on your thigh. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I should warn you,” he murmurs. “Traffic is very bad here.” 

—--

You sit there with Javi’s arm behind you and his other hand on your thigh, and neither of you speaks. He’s practically enveloping you with his whole body.

“You are thinking about it, right?”  

The pitch of his voice and a nod toward your skirt tells you what he’s talking about, and you don’t answer.  He takes his hand off your thigh only to adjust himself, and your face heats up. 

He sighs. “So, if you are the press, what should I say right now?”

After a loaded beat of silence, you snap out of it and begin to ramble, “Well, I haven't asked you a question, so you don't have to say anything, in fact, unless they ask–”

He reaches for your face. He rests four fingers on the side of your face, then brushes his thumb over your lips. “Shh. I won't say it,” he whispers. “That this press is the most beautiful girl. . .” Your lips part and let his thumb into your mouth, but your tongue pulls back.

“That I need her. . .in a way I cannot explain.” You gasp and look down. He takes his thumb  out of your mouth, then his hand drifts to his pants. “That I want to twist her legs around me like a pretzel.” The glint of his rings catches your eye, slowly moving atop his pants. His eyelids are heavy. “I should not say it, right?” 

You look at his mouth then meet his eyes again and shake your head no, ever so slightly. 

“But I can think it,” he whispers with a nod. “I can feel it,” he nods with a raise of his eyebrows. “Dios mio. . . I can have it.” 

He hugs you, slides a hand under your opposite thigh, and swiftly pulls you into straddling him with your knees on the seat and your skirt hanging loosely in his lap. You aren’t wearing stockings, but you’re wearing modest boy shorts. His hips lift up to meet you as he pulls you down with a sigh. His warm package feels even bigger than it looked. He closes his eyes and runs his hands over your back as your loins throb against each other. 

He holds your body firmly in place for a few gentle little thrusts that make you gush with each push of his bulge. Then, satisfied that you're not going anywhere, he pulls your face in for a long, steamy kiss, with his rings pressed against your cheek. As he feeds you his tongue, his hips keep moving, slowly pressing himself against you.

He pulls his face away and asks, “Do we have to go to this thing?” 

“No,” you say, pleased at this turn of events. He cups your head, and you explain, “Not at all. We wanted you to lay low. But you insisted-”

“I want to lay low with you,” he murmurs against your cheek. “Let me lay with you.”  Your insides are throbbing and swelling. His lips and the slightest hint of his teeth drag down your neck while his thick manhood hardens more against the crotch of your boy shorts. “I'll give you more than a taste, Mamacita. We're going to lay together.”  

He asks the driver to take you back to his place. Then he latches onto your neck, and you let out a little moan.  The van turns around to head back to his place. 

“I just need to text the team,” you tell him and get off his lap. You straighten your dress and begin to text your manager.  While you're on your phone, he keeps kissing and nibbling at you. 

Your manager calls, and you clear your throat. Javi occupies himself by popping open the bottle of champagne. You receive accolades for talking him out of the event. 

—--

When you're off the phone, Javi has somewhat composed himself. “Now we have all night.” He hands you a flute of champagne. A voice comes over the intercom saying there's a security matter Mr. Gutierrez needs to be briefed on. The van pulls over and Rafael, Javi’s head of security, joins you. 

“Your brother is back,” Rafael tells him. “And he's not happy about what you took.”

“Puta Madre,” Javi grumbles. “You know what he would have done with it.” 

“I know,” Rafi nods. 

“I have plans tonight, Rafi.” Javi looks at you adoringly. “The most important plans of my life.” He turns back to Rafi.  “Do you see this beautiful woman? We have plans.” 

“You have to stay with me,” Javi tells you. “I’ll keep you safe.” 

When you arrive back at Javi’s place, Rafi insists on escorting the two of you up to the penthouse. The place has already been cleaned up, and a maid is on her way out. 

“Thank you, Sandy,” Javi says as she passes by. She nods. 

——-

You excuse yourself to freshen up while Javi rants to Rafael. There's a crashing noise and you take your time coming back from the restroom, unsure what awaits. 

You come back to the main room and put your bag on a stool at the counter. Rafael is on his way out to stand guard by the door. Javi is sitting on the sofa with his pants off and his shirt unbuttoned, holding his gold pistol against his thigh. 

“I asked Rafi to give us some privacy,” Javi says. “We will not let this ruin our night.” He looks at you hungrily. “Come. Sit.” He makes space in his lap and looks down at himself. He’s wearing black boxer briefs.

You straddle him but don't sit yet. His free hand slides up the back of your thigh and he grabs a handful of ass. “You are the most beautiful woman,” he sighs. “And you feel so good in my hands.”

With his other hand, Javi nudges the golden gun under your skirt, and the metal on your bare thigh makes you flinch. “Shhh.”  He slowly slides the barrel along your inner thigh where the hem of your underwear is. He slides it lightly back and forth, breathing deeply through his nose. Then, his lips part as he rubs it along the damp crotch of your boy shorts. Your whole body erupts in goosebumps. He watches your face as he rubs you with the barrel of his pistol. He angles it upward each time he reaches your front. 

He palms your ass at the same rhythm as he massages you with the gun, as if encouraging you to ride it. Then he holds it still between his legs, pulls you closer against it, and your hips move on their own, seeking more pressure against the barrel. You twitch and gasp and he sucks in a deep breath through his nose. He moves you on the gun and you grind against the barrel until you’re almost at the edge and your thighs are trembling. 

“Good girl,” he sighs. He brings the side of the barrel to his nose and sniffs. Then he makes eye contact with you as he presses his lips to the side of the barrel and dips his tongue onto the metal.  He kisses the gun goodbye, then puts it aside. “I will keep you safe,” he reassures you again. 

Javi takes your hand in his and puts it on the hard bulge and you almost come. He’s so big, and so hard, the seams of his boxer briefs must be ready to burst. He uses your hand to massage himself. At the same time, he grabs the back of your head and pulls you into him for a passionate kiss. Your palm begins to massage his shaft. Feeling the hard shape of him, you can tell how thick he is, and it's more than a handful. Your fingers cradle his balls as you massage the lower part of his shaft. He pulls his underwear down and your skin meets his bare cock.

Both his palms engulf your ass cheeks and he lifts your dress all the way up over your ass so he can see your hips before desperately pulling you fully onto him. He smacks your ass, then kneads it again and licks into your mouth as he grinds up against you. 

He gropes your breasts and pulls your dress all the way up, taking it over your head. His hands find your bra clasp, and he frees your breasts, taking one to his mouth right away. He reaches into your smooth, stretchy boy shorts and gasps at the feeling of your bare, dripping cunt. He holds his cock in his hand and brings the tip to the bottom seam of your underwear. He wedges his cock into the garment, resting against your inner thigh, then a little further, and the bare skin of his tip nudging between your slippery folds makes you weak in the knees. He puts his cock all the way into your underwear from the bottom, wet from your slick, and pulls you tight against him. You grind together and his shaft massages your clit. The pressure builds and quickly boils over, and you moan as you begin to pulse against him. 

“Oh, my love,” Javi sighs, then moans as you grind and come against his cock in your panties. “Such a pretty sight and sound.”

With pleasure still washing over you, he wraps an arm tight around you, turns and lays you down on your back as your orgasm wanes. 

His cock slides out of your underwear as he makes space to finish undressing you both. He tears your underwear down in a frenzy and can't get out of his own soon enough. Within seconds, you're both nude on the sofa in the dimly lit room.

Javi sits on his knees between your legs and pumps himself slowly, belly pushing out, eyes dancing across your body. His cock is so stiff and thick, you can't take your eyes off it. You throb and ache for it. He runs his flattened fingers through your dripping seam and moans at your wetness. 

“I cannot wait another moment to feel you, my love.” 

Javi gets on top of you, his belly pressing into you as he positions himself then notches at your entrance. His gold chain hangs and grazes your chest. He hikes your leg up and you wrap it around him. 

“Good,” he whispers.

Javi shoves into you, punching the air out of your lungs with a brief burn at the stretch. He groans as he fills you with his flesh as fast as your body will allow. “Javi,” you gasp as his girth spreads you apart. His dick twitches at the sound of his name on your lips. He sighs your name and you're almost flattered he knows it, giving you a brief twinge of uncertainty that's quickly replaced by pleasure as he withdraws a few inches then slams into you. 

“You are so beautiful,” he pants as he begins to fuck you steadily. He kisses your chest and your neck. “It was fate that you came here to me.” 

He moans and grunts as he buries his cock in you. You wrap your other leg around him. His body is solid and soft against yours.  So much skin on skin and it all feels right. You feel safe, and you feel adored. The way he looks at you, the way he feels you, moves on you, it’s like he’s been waiting for you forever. He hooks a hand under your shoulder for more leverage, and the force of each punch of his hips jiggles your breasts. He slows down and fucks you more tenderly, but still with power. The movement of his hips is fluid and smooth. 

After a few minutes, he moans, “Ohh, my love,” then sighs your name. “I have to give you my cum, I have to give it to you.” You aren’t sure, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything to disrupt this moment. You’ve never had someone make love to you this way. “I’m going to explode,” he warns.

He buries his mouth in the crook of your neck, bottoms out, and groans as he erupts deep in your core, sending you for another climax of your own. Then his lips scramble up your neck and jaw to find your lips and he kisses you passionately as warm bursts of his cum fill you up. “Mmm,” he moans into your mouth as you clench around his cock. 

When you’re both finished coming, he stays inside for a moment. “We will be joined again,” he assures you as he pulls out.

He lays half on his side, with a bit of his weight on you for a moment. He strokes your face and admires you tenderly. You excuse yourself to the restroom, and he goes with you, escorting you to his master bath instead of the guest room you used earlier. He shows you his bedroom on the other side and says, “you will stay here with me.” 

-

When you come out of the restroom to Javi’s bed, you approach hesitantly. “Are you sure?” you ask. 

“I would not dream of letting you leave,” he assures you. 

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Heartless

Takeshi Kovacs X F!Reader

Summary: you get hurt, and all you want is for Takeshi to comfort you

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, choking, praising, bit of soft!dom!Tak, creampie, explicit language, mentions of murder, blood, typical violence for this show

WC: 4.5k

A/N: please I know, lia you wrote something??? Ik, fucking wild. Its been like 6months lmao. But I was rewatching altered carbon and man I really missed tak. I might slowly dive back into my joel era but for now this is this. I dedicate this to @a-reader-and-a-writer. If this flops oh well, at least I was happy writing it.

You often regretted your life choices. Stupid decisions you made as a teenager that ultimately led you into a world of violence and death. It seemed never ending. Because no matter how many times you tried to go straight, use your skills and intelligence for something good, your reputation always preceded you, and you would end up in the same place; with a gun in your hand, covered in blood, and with another body to add to your conscience. Though, ninety percent of the time it wasn't your fault. Just like this time it was not your fault. Trouble just seemed to find you. Or you liked to find trouble, or maybe both. 

“Ah Miss, what a pleasant surprise.” The AI that was this lovely hotel greeted you. “Oh. It appears that you are injured. Do you require medical assistance?” 

You looked down at your blood stained clothes and hands, you felt the slightest throb on your shoulder from where a bullet had grazed you, and the stinging burn on your side from where a switchblade slashed at your skin. But to be completely honest you had grown numb to it. You simply shrugged. 

“Nope. Just need a shower and some tequila.” You waved him off and you walked straight to the elevator, but before you entered, you turned around in your tracks to narrow your eyes at Poe. “Where is Takeshi?”

“Ah, Mr. Kovacs is not here at the moment. He left some hours ago to attend to some private matters he didn't disclose with me.” He answered plainly and you nodded. 

“Shocker. Well if he comes, don't tell him I'm here? Cool? Great.” You were about to go up to the room you used whenever you and Takeshi were fighting, when Poe spoke again. 

“Why is that? Wouldn't he like to know you are injured?” 

“Oh fuck, no. Don't even tell him you saw me like this.”  

Takeshi would go absolutely mad if someone spoke to you the wrong way. You still remember one time you joined him on one of his interrogations, for one reason or another. The man wouldn't keep his eyes off you, though you paid it no mind, you were used to men being nothing short of disgusting, or them calling you every sexual name in the book. But Takeshi? Man, pissed was nothing to describe the level of anger going through him. He didn't stop until the man was nothing but red. You, of course, while amused by his protectiveness of you, got him to stop. 

“Tak, sweetheart, you need him conscious and breathing, don't you think?” 

“He won't be doing much of either anymore.” 

Takeshi was cute when he was angry, more so when he was overprotective of you. But even then, there were some lines you never wanted to cross. And if he ever saw you like this, the thought of someone hurting you like this would drive him mad. No stack would be left unharmed by him if he had any say in the matter. 

So for the sake of the men you did leave alive, it would be best if Tak didn't see you like this. 

“Well, why not?” Poe pushed, clearly he didn't understand the level of insanity Takeshi was capable of reaching. 

“Because, if Tak sees me like this, he is not going to be very happy. He is going to actually cut somebody's head off—Again. Actually no, scratch that, he is going to decapitate and destack a lot of somebody's,” You said as slowly and as clearly as you possibly could, pausing to stare at the hologram as if to make a point. “So do not tell Takeshi I'm here, or that you saw me like this.” 

So much for wanting to stay out of trouble for once. 

~~~~~~

Man what a fucking shitshow. Truly, he didn't understand when the world had gotten so damn complicated. He didn't like to leave messes, he really didn't, but sometimes people would just force his hand, he had to get answers one way or another. 

He should call you. Yes. He should do that. If there was one thing in this fucked up reality of his that he knew would never go wrong, it was seeing you. 

“Mr. Kovacs,” Poe appeared at the bar, getting Takeshi's attention, but he didn't even bother to look. “I was not expecting to see you tonight. Were you able to attend to your matters?” 

“Yeah.” Was all he responded to as he walked towards the elevator. His eyes were glued to the ground as a cigarette hung from his lips, he was tired and annoyed, frustrated and even more tired, but something caught his attention as he thought about his own self misery. 

Blood. 

“Why is there blood here?” He asked Poe with a slight shift from apathy to alarm as he traced the trails of blood droplets back the way he came.

“Oh… Yes.. That… Well you see.” 

“Was someone here?” He asked with sharpness in his naturally baritone voice, looking around for anything out of place or broken, but everything looked normal. 

“No. Well… Yes.. But..” 

Takeshi’s head snapped to look at the AI, eyes narrowed as he stared intensely, waiting for an answer. 

Oh. It better not be. 

~~~~~~

Just get in the shower. You can do that, can't you? 

Apparently you struggled more than you should have with that. It wasn't like you had a bullet in you, but then again, you also had gotten thrown through a table, and punched repeatedly, and stabbed, and shot—kind of. But man was the pain starting to infect every muscle, every joint, every crevice of your body. You weren't exactly sure how you got out of the shower. But you managed to wash the dried blood off you. Though you were still left with two open wounds that were most likely going to have to be cauterized. 

You weren't going to enjoy this very much. 

You were hoping to just throw yourself on the bed and get it over with before Takeshi decided to spontaneously show up. By then your wounds would have been closed, what were two new scars? It's not like Takeshi would notice two more among so many. Or maybe he would notice, but by then it would have been enough time for him to be angry about it but not actually do anything about it. 

Pushing through the now throbbing pain shooting through your shoulder every time you moved your arm, you managed to get yourself into your underwear, but that was as far as that went. 

You had made it halfway from the bathroom to your bed when you heard your name being called, rather loudly, by a voice you were all too familiar with.

Well fuck. 

Takeshi followed the blood. There were drops on the elevator floor, stains on the buttons of the elevator. When the door opened, he followed the drops as his heart began to race. It wasn't a lot of blood, you weren't bleeding out, that was for sure, but his mind wouldn't stop racing. He called your name as he walked further into your room. 

His jaw tightened at the sight of you, slightly hunched over, holding your side as you limped across the room. And the look you gave him was one of deer in headlights. 

“Takeshi…” Your voice was hesitant, soft, wary as you leaned on one of the couches to support yourself. 

He was in front of you in three, maybe four, long, heavy strides. His eyes were frantic, darting all over as he looked over your face. Your eye looked like it was going to bruise, your lip split and your jaw looked angry with a forming bruise. 

“Who..” His words were barely audible, just barely above a rasp as he gripped your non bruised jaw tightly, forcing you to look at him. 

“Tak…” 

“Who the fuck did this to you?” 

You should not be getting wet at the sound of his angry words, but the rasp laced in his tongue had you clenching your thighs together. Takeshi was hot when he was angry. 

“It's fine, Tak. I'm fine, really.” You looked up to find his frantic eyes filled with fiery emotions, his jaw clenching and unclenching with each uneven breath he took. “You should see the other guy.” 

Normally Takeshi found your dry humor amusing. But he couldn't get himself to even let out a chuckle, instead he huffed as he looked over your face. 

“I want a name. Right now.” His words were barely audible, between huffs and puffs as he begrudgingly helped you sit down on the loveseat. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. 

“Can't. Kinda shot him in the stack.” You answered flatly, huffing out a small breath as you threw your head back over the armrest. Takeshi narrowed his eyes at you, noting each bruise and mark on your torso, including the angry looking cut on your side. 

“This wasn't just one person,” it wasn't a question, it was a fact, he knew that. He stared blankly at you as he waited for your response. The sigh you let out was confirmation enough. “What happened? And I want an answer without the attitude.” 

You winced, a hiss of discomfort leaving your mouth as he ran the laser over the large gash on your side. You closed your eyes, counting to five in your head before you answered. 

“I thought I was going in for a job. Something about needing access to some encrypted files,” You recalled what you had so innocently assumed to be just a simple hacking job, in and out with a decent pay, oh how mistaken you were. “The dude that had contacted me suddenly starts getting all up in my face, and asks me some weird questions about you. And when I told him to fuck off, his friends came out.” 

You shot him a glare when he silently moved to your shoulder, but that one was less deep so it didn't hurt as much, it definitely didn't hurt as much as when the bullet actually touched your skin though. 

“Why didn't you call me?” His eyes were sharp on you as he waited for your answer. Was he seriously angry at you?

“Oh right, and what was I supposed to say, ‘oh, hey sweetie, could you please come shoot some people I was doing illegal business with in the stack with me, pretty please?’” You raised your voice to a higher pitch, doing this valley girl accent which only made him inhale deeply. 

“Do you ever answer anything without the bullshit?” He muttered with exasperation as he angrily lit up a cigarette and took a drag out of it. 

“I handled it, Takeshi. Let it go.” You ultimately sighed, reaching over to brush your bruised knuckles over the side of his face. 

His eyes found your face, he saw the forming bruises, and he remembered the blood. Somebody did this to you. Somebody hurt you and he wasn't there to stop it. You could have died. He could feel the anger settle in the pit of his stomach and he began to feel the urge to rip somebody's stack out with his bare hands. His fists clenched at his sides. 

“Like hell.” He stood up so fast it gave you whiplash. You didn't want him to go. You needed him. 

“Don't go,” You stood up so fast your side was definitely screaming at you but you didn't care. He wasn't looking at you, his eyes looked way past your head at the nearest wall. But you grabbed his face, forcing him to meet your eyes. “I need you.. Please? For once just stay with me.” 

Please. 

You didn't beg often. But when you did, there was not a thing in this world he could ever deny you. He found your eyes, big mistake. The second he saw those pleading eyes he was done for. He hated the ways in which you could so easily tug at the strings of his cold heart. For the longest time he thought he didn't have a heart, until he saw you for the first time and that thing started beating. 

His mouth was on yours, he kissed you long and hard. He grabbed your face as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth. He held you, pulling your body against his. Your fist bunched around his shirt, gripping it like vice as he kissed you with fervor, like this was the last thing he ever wanted to do in this world. 

“You wanna take care of me? Hm?” You spoke softly against his lips, your fingers now threading through his long golden strands. 

The grunt that rumbled in his throat was almost animalistic. He wanted you on that bed and he never wanted you to leave it. 

“You're in pain..” He muttered through deep breaths as his long fingers gripped your jaw, forcing your head back as he brushed his nose against yours, holding on to the little stability he had left. “Don't wanna hurt you.” 

“I like it when you hurt me. I want it.” Your words were soft and desperate, quiet as you brushed your lips over his. Pain was the last thing on your mind when you had him this close, when you felt his touch, when you knew he was hanging in by a thread. You needed this more than you needed air in your lungs. 

“You want it?” He repeated, voice as low as it could go, eyes closed as he waited for that confirmation, for your permission, to absolutely ruin you. 

“Yes. Please Takeshi, I need it.” 

There wasn't anything better than Takeshi's cock in your guts after a brush with death.

His large calloused hands found the back of your bare thighs, he so easily hoisted you up around his waist as his lips crashed against yours without another word being said. He was a man of little words afterall. He was a man of action. And he was goddamn sure he would give you exactly what you needed. 

Your back landed on the soft duvets, but his lips never parted from yours. Your frantic hands shoved his coat off his shoulders, then the buttons of his shirt as he fumbled with his pants. It took some time, between desperate grabs and frantic hands, he was just as naked as you, only your underwear left between the two of you. 

His lips found your neck, wet kisses all over the skin as his hands roamed your body. He pulled back enough for his eyes to look you over. He would never get tired of looking at you. 

“You're so…” He didn't have to say it, the look in those hazel eyes of his said every word he wasn't capable of saying out loud. 

You gave him a smile, your eyes big with both longing and endearment. He kissed you one more time before he tugged your panties down. He settled just beside you, thick thighs caging one of yours as his long fingers brushed over your clit, leaving you to gasp against his mouth. His lips curved up slightly as his fingers moved in slow, long circles. He could feel you get wetter and wetter the longer he kept up his torture. He liked to hear you whine and beg for it. 

“Tak..” His name fell from your lips when you no longer could keep your mouth closed, you were gripping at his shoulder as you helplessly grinded against his fingers, desperate for more. 

“Mhm?” His lips were on your ear, his warm breath ghosting over the side of your face with each sharp inhale he took. “Need me to fuck you with my fingers, then with my cock? Is that it?” 

You were nodding so hard, gasping softly when he circled his fingers around your wet hole, teasing you. 

“Mhm!—Please—” You didn't even get the chance to finish your sentence when two long fingers buried themselves deep into your cunt. 

Your lips fell open as your eyes unconsciously rolled back into your head, the delicious feeling of his thick fingers filling you. It wasn't long before Takeshi was all but fucking you with his fingers, and you were nothing but sobs of pleasure. He buried his fingers to the knuckle, brushing your most sensitive spot with each snap of your wrist. 

Fuck did you look pretty like this. But you looked prettier when you were drunk on his cock. 

His free hand gripped your hair, keeping your head in place so he could watch the way your face would contort with pleasure. The lewd sound of your wet cunt being filled by his fingers wasn't lost on him either. He loved it. He was addicted to it. 

“That's it, let it go, sweetheart.” He grunted through his teeth when he realized you were so close, the way your hips were so desperately following the movements of his hand and the grip you had on his wrist was all but telling. He gave you a long satisfied hum when he felt your release coat his hand with a sob of his name. 

His fingers only left you when you were digging your nails into his wrist. His lips curled up in amusement at your desperate attempts but he ultimately complied. His lips were on your forehead as he eased you back into steady breathing.  

“You okay?” He was quiet, but you heard it. You simply nodded in response, still not fully able to find your voice. Good enough. “Good, ‘cause I'm gonna give you exactly what you deserve now.” 

He grabbed your arms and flipped you on your stomach with ease. You were taken aback, instinctively pushing yourself up on your forearms, but a hand on your back forced you back down. 

“Easy. Just relax, sweetheart,” he shushed you softly, you felt him move around for a second until you felt him behind you, right in between your open thighs. “Lemme take care of you, hm?” 

Your response was in the form of a soft hum, you lied flat on your stomach, your head to the side so you could breathe and your ass up enough for him to do as he pleased. And you waited, rather impatiently. You could feel Takeshi's hands on your hips, then up your back, until one of them settled on your shoulder blades. 

You were about to open your mouth when you felt the head of his cock brush over your wet clit. The only sound leaving your throat was that of a choked out moan. 

“You want it?” His lips were on your ear, voice smooth, but with this baritone rasp, a combination that drove you insane. You were nodding into the blankets. 

“Yes, Takeshi. Please.” 

Fuck, he was rolling his eyes at the sound of his name leaving your lips like that. He didn't need to say anything else. He pushed himself into you with a long, hard thrust that had you gasping. 

“Ahh….” You squeezed your eyes shut, hands squeezing the sheets in front of you at the feeling of his cock stretching your walls. You have been with Takeshi for some time now, but you never truly got used to the size of him (with this sleeve at least). “Fuck— you're so..” 

He eased a hand up and down your back, shushing you softly, he was used to it by now. When he felt you start to back into his cock he knew you were fine. He dug his fingers into your shoulder, holding you down on the mattress as he snapped his hips. A gasped cry left your lips. Again, and again with each brush of his cock, until he had you sobbing into the mattress. 

Takeshi, he fucked hard, and he liked it rough, but he had learned to take his time, he learned to take it slow, drag out the feeling for as long as possible, until you were nothing but a sobbing mess. His hand was wrapped around your hair, pushing your head down as he leaned over you. His chest was flush against your back as he rutted his hips against your ass, his lips on the back of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses everywhere he could. 

Takeshi wasn't very talkative, ever, but goddamn was he noisy. His heavy pants, ragged grunts, the occasional fuck, were all in your ear which each delicious drag of his cock. 

“Goddamn,” he breathed out, nipping at your jaw as he pulled your head up enough to look at your fucked out face, “you feel so fucking good.” 

“Mhmmm. Shit, Tak. Feels so—” You couldn't even finish a cohesive sentence you were so cock drunk, so high on the feeling of his cock brushing that one spot that had you rolling your eyes. You reached behind you, trying to grab him, any of him. 

“Feels good, doesn't it baby?” You could hear the slight smirk on his lips as he wrapped his arm over your neck from shoulder to shoulder, almost as if he was putting you in a headlock. 

“Yes! Fuck yes—” 

“Of course it does.” 

That was enough of taking it slow for one night. 

Takeshi held you in place with his arm over your neck as he drilled into you. The only sounds leaving your mouth were sobs and choked out pants. You couldn't say any words at that point. He was fucking you so hard into that mattress you didn't even realize when the burn in your stomach started to build. All you knew it was that you were digging your nails into his arms so hard the marks would be there for days. It felt good to be caged under his body, with nowhere to go. Not that you wanted to be anywhere else. 

“C'mon, let me take care of you. I'm right here.” He rasped out, hanging on by a thread himself. God, it felt so fucking good. You were barely hanging on. But the second his thumb found your swollen clit you were done for. You couldn't even make a sound, you fell into a silent cry, eyes rolled into the back of your head as your release washed over you. “That's it. I got you.” 

He could feel your release coat his cock, and the feeling of you coming all over him only made him go over the edge himself. He gave you two, maybe three more long, hard drags of his cock before he was spilling himself inside you with a breathy fuck leaving his lips in the process. 

You all but collapsed, your head falling on the pillows as you panted, Takeshi did the same. He dropped his face on your neck, eyes closed as he steadied his breath. He stayed there for some time, he couldn't hold himself up forever, but fuck this felt so nice. You underneath him, wrapped under his arms, nobody could hurt you here. His lips eventually found the side of your head for a chaste kiss before he moved to lay beside you. But the distance between you lasted a whole five seconds because he was pulling you to him. He positioned you to face him, one leg thrown over his torso as both of his arms caged you in. He would keep you here if he could. 

Silence ultimately drowned out your soft breaths, but not once did he stop looking at you. And you could tell something eating at him, weighing on his chest. You brought a hand to his face and you saw him close his eyes with a sigh. 

“I'm sorry I wasn't there.” He finally said, riddled with guilt and anger all over again. You frowned softly and shook your head at him. 

“Stop that, okay? It wasn't your fault.” You answered, smoothing out the soft frown above his eyebrows. He looked at you, watching as you brushed the loose strands of hair out of his eyes but he said nothing. “I'm a big girl, Takeshi. What I do or what messes I get myself into are not your fault. So stop. If I was mad at you I wouldn't let you rearrange my guts, would I?” 

Takeshi didn't laugh often. Or ever really. But sometimes your absurdity brought on a genuine chuckle out of him.

“Aw, so he has a sense of humor. He's not a robot!” You snorted, raising your voice like you were announcing it to the entire city. He rolled his eyes at you. 

“I don't fuck like a robot, do I?” There was a tiny shit eating grin on his face which made you shove his shoulder playfully. 

“Oh my God, shut the fuck up.” You kissed him with a soft laugh. 

~~~~~~~

Goddammit Takeshi Kovacs.

This man just simply couldn't wake up and stay in bed with you for one day. Just one fucking time, you asked. 

You groaned tiredly as you stretched out your sore muscles before sitting up. No tall angry looking envoy anywhere. How tragic. You were about to get out of bed when the door swung open. You were about to reach for your gun on the nightstand when you saw it was just Takeshi, and he looked rather amused. 

“You're awake.” He raised his eyebrows at you in surprise, expecting you to be passed out after the night you had, partly his doing. You looked at him with suspicion as he walked to the bed. “I have something for you.” 

“Is it a decapitated head?” You blinked at him, feigning innocence and he chuckled.

“No. Well I didn't bring it here anyway.” He shrugged as he handed you a red and blue switchblade. It looked kind of cool. You stared at it for a good few seconds before you looked up at him with confusion. 

“What's this?” 

“The owner of this.” He pointed at the brand new scar on your side. Your eyes widened with realization and your mouth fell open. 

“Takeshi—” 

“I don't want to hear you.” He cut you off before you could even yell at him for not letting it go. You frowned at him deeply. He sighed as he sat beside you. “They had it coming. They touched you. It's that simple.” 

You stared at him, and you wanted to force yourself to be angry at him, angry at him for not letting it go, angry at him for treating you like some damsel in distress who needed him to save her. But when you looked into his eyes you didn't see the hero's complex. Not at all. You saw a man who was looking at the only thing that mattered to him in this world. And he'd be damned if he ever let anyone take that away from him again. 

“Awe, baby, so you aren't so heartless after all.” Your smile was mocking on the outside, but deep down it was one of endearment.

“Fuck you.” 

You loved him. And even someone as heartless as him was capable of love, too.

[luvyeni]

❛RELAX❜ ( o. shotaro )

💬nia's notes: i know i said i wouldn't start wriring for riize just yet , but i couldn't help it i just love taro.

p. stoner!shotaro x shy!reader w. 3.4k (idk either)

warnings? drug usage , unprotected sex , dirty talk , pwp , cumming inside , oral ( f. receiving), fingering ,

— 𖦹 ( smoking weed with shotaro leads to something more ) !

"you're late mr. osaki." you looked up from your computer , you sat in the way back , so you got a good look at the entire class , including the boy who stood at the door , shoulders hung , he definitely didn't want to be here. "this the eighth time this month class starts at one o'clock not one-thirty."

he nodded , head still low. "i slept late." the teacher shook her head. "take a seat mr. osaki , next time set a better alarm." she turned back to the projector.

he made his way to the back , the rest of the desk filled up except the one next to you , your bag occupied the chair. "can i sit?" he said looking at you, you could now see that his eyes were red , he was high. "hello?" he waved his hand in front of your face. "h-huh?"

"mrs.(last name) , mr. osaki , is there a problem." the class turned to face you both. "just trying to sit down." he kept his eyes on you. "so can i sit down?" you nodded , quickly moved your things from the seat — he sat down , everyone turning back to the board and your heart finally stopped beating at 100 miles per hour from all the attention.

you tried to focus on the board , but you couldn't help but glance over to him everyone once and a while , you've see him every once in a while in this class , he'd often sit in the back , he almost never paid attention , but he always passed — getting up and leaving , he basically was there for attendance.

"you know i can feel you staring at me?" his whisper voice spooked you , you tried to turn , but it was no use. "y-you don't have any books." you said , he could barely hear you , but he chuckled. "yeah , i know." he said. "i'll get someone else to do it."

you went to face him again , but he beat you to it , his face was already close to yours. "what about you princess?" he smirked at your flustered stated. "you wanna do it for me , be a good girl and do my work for me?"

"wh-what." he sat back in his chair , head low again. "i was kidding (name)." how'd he know your name? "you're gonna miss the class if you don't pay attention. the class , that's right. "sh-shit." you cursed , turning to the right page , refocusing on the work , taking the notes down on your computer.

shotaro watched you , in fact he always watched you — you just never payed any attention to your surroundings , always trying to get somewhere quickly and quietly , but sometimes he'd catch you , mumbling things to yourself while working and he thought it was cute , he thought you were cute , so when god gave him the opportunity to sit next to you , he took it even though he was high out of his mind and could barely pick up on anything.

class went by quickly , shotaro had fallen asleep , probably sleeping off his high , while you jotted down the notes. "we have a test coming up , it's worth half your grades , so remember to study." you packed up all your stuff. "mrs.( last name)?" you looked up. "y-yes?" the professor pointed to shotaro. "please wake him up." she shook her. "don't even know why he bothers to come."

you turned to the sleeping boy , reaching out and lightly tapping him. "h-hey." you tapped him once again , a little harder this time , his eyes fluttered open , no longer red , his pupils back to normal. "class is over now." you said , about to walk away , when he grabbed your wrist.

"wait." his voice groggily from sleep. "let me take you home." he said. "you don't live on campus , correct?" you nodded. "b-but you don't have to." you said. "it's cool , i want to." he stood up. "wh-why?"

you were so cute , all shy. "maybe i just hang out with you , not everyone is all scary." he said. "you'll take me straight home?" you questioned. "i promise." he smirked , moving close to you , his body close to yours. "unless you have another place." he laughed as you took a step back. "let's go." he took your bag from your shoulders , putting it on his.

you guys made it to his car , he opened your door , letting you step inside before he closed the door , jogging over to the drivers side , climbing in , tossing your bookbag in the back. "ready?"

you looked out the window as drove , picking at the string on your skirt nervously , shotaro picked up on it , grabbing your hand. "stop that , you don't want to mess it up do you?" you shook your head , stopping. "good girl." those words sending a shiver down your spine.

"you hungry?" he spoke up. "we can stop for food." he wanted to grab food with you , did he mean like a date? was he asking you out on a date? "don't think too much of it , you'll hurt that pretty head of yours." he said. "there's a drive through mcdonalds near by , we can pick something up." you nodded , he let out a tsk sound.

"ah you can do better." he said. "let me hear that pretty voice , use your words." you couldn't understand it , but the way he spoke to you , it made you feel something , something you've never felt before — but it made you want to listen to him. "o-okay" he smiled. "good girl , let's go."

he pulled into the drive through , the lady spoke through the voice machine , he ordered what he want , turning to you getting your order before telling her what you want. "okay , you guys can pull up to the front window."

after getting your food , he placed it in your lap , driving off. you noticed he missed the exit to get back to your house , your eyes widening. "m-my house— i know." had that been any other person , you've would been shitting your pants , but with him surprisingly you felt safe. "i have place where we can eat our food and talk."

he drove for about ten more minutes , pulling into a old parking lot. "don't be so nervous." he said. "i would never put you in any harm , just relax." he said , grabbing the bag , taking the food out. "here you go." you shyly too the box of chicken nuggets , sitting them in your lap , he smiled. "cute."

he turned on a random tv show on his phone , sitting it up so you could see while you ate , occasionally making conversation with you , smiling when you shyly nod or avoided his eye contact — which never away , his eyes were always on you , watching everything you did.

"i-is th-there something on my face?" you said , looking for a napkin. "no , just like looking at you." you were flustered again , his constant flirting was going to kill you. "w-why?"

"because you're pretty." he said. "and i like staring at you." you quickly switched the subject. "i took all the notes down , i'll send them to you." he turned to you , laughing. "i didn't really mean for you to actually do my work for me princess." you began to pick at the string on your skirt again.

"hey." he grabbed your hands. "thank you , but don't worry your pretty little head about me." you nodded , and he let your hand go , this time resting his hand on your knee. "just relax , when you're with me that's all you have to do is relax."

he reached in the glove compartment , pull out a small metal can , opening it — revealing four pre-rolled joints. "sh-shotaro , what are you doing?" he smiled , taking one out , along with his lighter. "what does it look like?" he put the blunt to his mouth , about to light it. "b-but you can't drive if you're high."

"well then i guess you have to stay right here with me until im sober again." he light it up , taking a drag , inhaling , then exhaling. "you don't mind that do you." it probably should've bothered you , but it really didn't , you actually wanted to spend more time with him , this was probably the most you've been out in like forever. "i-i guess i don't mind."

you watched him take multiple drags , his body slumping further and further into the seat , he turned the radio on , r&b playing on a low volume as smoke filled the car. "you want to try?"

you shook your head. "i-i'm fine." you've never done something like that before , you wouldn't even know what to do. "why not , it will finally take your mind off everything." he said. "i-i've never done it before." of course you haven't. "i know , but that doesn't mean you can't try."

you thought about it before agreeing , what harm could it be. "s-sure." you said , he sat up , taking the blunt out of his mouth. "you don't have to , i won't force you (name)." he said. "i-i want to."

he nodded , you turned to him. "let me lead." you obey , and he held the blunt to your mouth. "open up." he tapped the blunt on your lips , you got that feeling again that you did earlier — parting your lips. "good girl , now close."

you obeyed , closing your lips. "now inhale it — not too much." he watched you closely , tapping your cheek with his finger , signaling you to stop , now hold it , that's it , just a little longer." the smoke filled your lungs. "now let go." you coughed , the smoke coming out of your mouth. "it's okay , it's okay." he patted your back. "it's always like that the first few times , you'll get the hang of it."

he let you hit it two more times , before he seem your eyes get redder and redder , before he was pulling it away from your lips. "that's enough , three is enough for someone like you."

you sat back , your body felt like it was melting into the seat. "look at you , finally relaxing." he smiled , you chuckled. "and you laughed , that's three wins for me today." he said. "three?" he hummed. "i got you to hang out with me , i got you relax and i got you to smile." he counted them.

he noticed you in your own world , picking with the hem of your skirt. "what's troubling that pretty head again?" he held your hands down once again. "wh-why did you want to hang out with me?" you said. "are you not having good time."

"n-no it's not that, it's just that , you've never paid attention to me before , wh-why all of sudden." he smiled , you were so clueless. "how would you know pretty , you alway have your head in the clouds , talking to yourself." your face heated up with embarrassment.

"do i really talk to myself?" you didn't evem realize you were doing it now , he laughed. "you're so cute." he rubbed your knee. "that's why i wanted to hang out with you , everything about you is so cute." your face was on fire , you turned out to face the window.

"especially when you get all shy , i find that so cute." he grabbed your jaw , turning it to face him. "why'd you turn away?" he smirked , his eyes fell to your lip , which you were chewing on. "am i making you nervous?"

you could barely comprehend what was going on , between the weed flowing through your system , and his hand resting on your leg , the other forcing you to look at him , it was all too much. "i really want to kiss you right now." your eyes widened.

"can i?" his thumb ran across your bottom lip , you nodded. "i need to hear you princess , use those words." you were afraid , not knowing what would come out. "y-yes , you can." he smiled , leaning in , his lips pressing against yours.

his lips felt nice , soft against yours. he could tell you were still nervous , pulling away. "look at you , your eyes all glazed over." he chuckled. "did you like it?" he questioned. "you want another one?" you nodded. "words pretty girl."

"i want another one." you said , your voice the most clear than has been , shotaro took notice of this. "how about you come sit right here and get it." he patted his lap , your eyes fluttered to his his lap , the to him. "y-your lap?" he nodded. "yeah , if you want to." you thought about it , you'd never even gone this far with a guy , but you wanted to — you wanted to go that far with shotaro. "o-okay."

you undid your seat belt , slowly climbing into his lap , hovering right above him. "let me help you." he grabbed your hips , pulling you down. "there you go pretty girl." his hands rested on your thighs , on of them coming up to caress your cheek. "just relax for me." he pulled you into another kiss.

you don't know if it was the weed , or his kisses , but you were on cloud nine and you didn't want to come down , he deeped the kiss , it was sloppy at first , but he allowed you to find your own pace , eventually getting the hang of it.

this was the best high of his life , he wish he could stay like this forever , in this moments , you on top of him , your lips against his , smoke still floodings the car , making it hotter than it already was.

the feeling from earlier was back and it was stronger than ever , traveling from your stomach to in between your legs , an almost unbearable , you couldn't help but move.

shotaro smirked , pulling away , you chased his lips desperately. "calm down." he whispered , against your lips. "you're getting so worked up princess , try and relax for me , you can have everything you want in a minute."

he wanted to make sure you really wanted this , that it wasn't just the weed talking. "you don't have to do this." he said. "i still really just want to hang out with you." he rested his forehead against yours. "i-i want to." you said. "i really want to."

his cock was hardening against his slacks , you were on top of him , your eyes blown out as you practically begged him to fuck you , grinding against him. "fu-fuck , if you keep grinding against me , im gonna cum in my pants." he grunted.

"i-i didn't mean to." he threw his head back against the headrest. "i know princess , i know you don't." he played with the ends of your shirt. "let's get you out of this." he lifted your shirt above your head , revealing your pink bra.

"so pretty baby , can i take it off?" you were about to nod , but deciding to skip that part , "y-yes." he smiled. "you finally caught on princess , keep using those words , let me hear that pretty voice." he reached behind you , undoing the hooks , letting your bra fall , your tits bouncing from the impact. "such pretty tits." his hand came up , engulfing your boobs , squeezing them.

"sh-shotaro." you moaned , and he was slowly losing it , you moaned so prettily , even prettier than he imagined. "so soft." he whispered , bringing his lips to your bud , sucking on it. "sh-shit , feels so good." you felt your panties soaking even more , you probably were making such a mess , but you couldn't care right now , you needed him.

oh couldn't hold it anymore , he needed to feel you , he needed to be inside you. "fu-fuck , fuck princess i need you , please i need to fuck you." he moaned , waiting for your word , once you gave it to him he was directing you to the back seat , laying you on your back.

"wanna taste you first." he sighed , kissing your stomach , making his way down to your skirt , lifting it up to your waist. "pretty panties." you whined , squirming your hips.

"relax , i told you , you'll get everything you want." he pulled your panties down your legs , he'll find them later — kissing right above your tailbone.

it was cramped , but that didn't stop him spreading your legs as much as he could , buring himself in between them , licking a strip up your cunt. "ohmygod." you moaned. "f-feels so good." he hummed against your heat , you moans only egging him on.

you tasted like heaven , this was his new drug , you were all he ever needed to feel high again , he pulled away , giving your clit little kitten licks. "you taste so good princess." his lips wet from your slick. "want my fingers?"

he rubbed your swollen bud , you nodded. "p-please." he pushed one finger into your hole. "your little cunt is barely taking my finger princess , i don't think im gonna fit." he added another finger , a slight sting making you hiss.

"it's okay , it's okay." he slowly thrusted his fingers into you , the pain slowly subsiding. "that's it , my fingers like a good girl." your stomach began to tighten. "you're clenching around my fingers." he rubbed your clit in circles. "you gonna cum?" you nodded. "go a head , cum on fingers , so i can make you do it again on my cock." he sped up his fingers , the band tighten more and more — before it snapped. "fuck 'taro , im cumming!" you screamed , cumming all over his fingers. "fuck!"

"good girl , fuck you came so much." he pulled his fingers out , bringing them back to his mouth , getting another taste , his cock twitching in his pants. "shit."

he undid his pants , pulling them down enough for his cock to spring out , resting against his stomach. his cock was big , a long vein adorned the side , his tip red , leaking with pre-cum. "are you sure you want , we don't have to go any further?"

you whined , reaching down grabbing his cock. "pl-please." your voice was desperate , as you stroked his cock. "i want it so much." you begged , shotaro cursed , grabbing your hand , replacing it with his own , lining himself up with your cunt. "i'll go slow."

and slow he did , sinking into your cunt , both of you letting out a moan. "fu-fuck , you're so fucking tight." his voice was shaky. "baby , you gotta stop clenching , im gonna cum." he grunted. "ca-can't help it." you mewled. "y-you're so big." he smirked , rocking his hips.

"yeah , you feeling full of my cock?" you moaned. "s-so full." he held your leg around his waist as he pounded into your needy hole. "you're so vocal now , what happened to my shy baby , where is she?" he grunted. "s-still here?" you moaned.

"yeah? she's still in there , but i like this version though , you moaning for me like a little slut." you tightened around his cock , making him hiss. "sh-shit , you like being called that?" he grunted , hitting that gummy spot. "there it is?" he continuously thrusted against that spot.

"my perfect girl , this is all just for me?" he rubbed your clit. "only i get to see you like this , all slutted out , right?" you felt your orgasm. "ye-yes , fuck 'taro im gonna cum." he kissed your lips. "go ahead , cum for me."

he pressed his forhead against yours , wrapping your leg around his waist , hitting deeper than before , trigger your orgasm. "taro fuck." you tightened around him hard. "oh shit." he didn't even have a chance , before he was spilling his cum into your cunt.

"sh-shit , im so sorry." he pulled out slowly , his cum seeping out of your cunt , his cock twitching at the sight , he didn't mean it this time , he can't be to sure next time. "i-its okay , i'm on birth control."

he let your leg go slowly , carefully just incase you were sore. "let me clean you up." he grabbed a tissue , carefully cleaning you off. "you did so well." he praised , your face turned hot. "st-stop it." you stuttered. "ah , there she is." he smiled. "so cute."

he helped you get dressed , you climbed out of the car , getting back into the passenger's seat , he climbed back into the drivers seat. "i don't want to take you back right now." he said slumped in his seat sad. "w-we c-can come back tomorrow." you said , he sat back up happily. "okay , i'll pick you up after class." he started the car , placing his hand on your thigh , much higher than before.

"maybe tomorrow you can put my cock in that pretty mouth of yours."

©️LUVYENI