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The red led cursor was blurry as you tried to adjust your tired, sleepy vision.

3:17.

Your digital clock reads.

You rolled over to your back in your bed, feeling an unnatural cold chill spilling through your room.

You turned your head, looking towards the window beside your bed. The curtains were swaying violently against the cold night wind that invaded your room. Your window was open. How weird. You clearly remember closing it before going to bed. You never leave it open, much less on windy days like these.

You sigh heavily, bringing a hand to rub your tired face as you close your eyes. You must have forgotten this time. Not very unlikely.

“Fuck.” you whisper a cuss at your own recklessness.

Groaning, you toss your covers away, sitting up in bed in a swift motion, even though you were dying of tiredness. You sighed again and stood up, feeling the sharp, cold wind kiss your exposed body, raising all your body hair at once.

Hissing through your teeth, you tried to shield yourself from the cold as much as you could and ran quickly toward the windowsill, grabbing the edges of both windows by the sills, sealing the latches and making sure they were properly closed. The icy wind ceased immediately. You looked at the small, dark forest that surrounded your house outside. Nothing out of the ordinary, just the leaves of the trees swaying in the wind.

You adjusted the curtains, letting only a small beam of moonlight illuminate the room, and took a step back without turning completely.

You yawned, ready to return to your warm bed and sleep a little longer before your alarm clock rang. Before another tiring day came...

You took another step back. Something that felt like a body bumped into you from behind.

Before you could even breathe to scream, or do anything, a cold palm brutally covered your mouth, fingers digging into your cheek. As you struggled forward, contorting your torso with all the strength you possessed in a desperate attempt to break free from whatever was holding you, something icy and metallic pressed firmly against the side of your neck — right over your carotid artery, which was throbbing frantically.

With all the strength you could muster, you looked down. Through the panic and the dim light, you saw a pale blur of a hand covering your mouth. Further down, gripping your neck was a sharp, bloody knife. You couldn’t tell if the crimson splatter on the blade was yours or someone else’s, but the sight made your heart race even faster, the pulse so violent you could see the blade jump slightly against your skin with each beat. Your hands instinctively flew toward the pale hand that was choking your mouth.

Your nails scratched and dug into the man’s wrist and knuckles with all the force you possessed, tearing the skin and drawing fresh blood onto your fingers. You poured all your strength into the attack, scratching him like a wild animal, but the man didn’t even flinch. His grip remained firm, unyielding, as if your desperate violence was nothing more than an irritating breeze.

“Mmmph!” you whimpered desperately against his palm, your eyes wide with terror as you writhed and struggled, trying to break free. But it was impossible to escape it.

“Shhh, now,” he whispered, his voice low and hoarse, his lips so close you felt the warm brush of his breath and the light touch of his mouth on the delicate shell of your ear. A violent shiver ran down your spine, every hair on your body standing on end. “Wouldn’t like waking the neighbors, would you?”

His tone was deceptively calm, almost intimate, carrying a dark amusement that made your stomach churn. The faint scent emanating from him — something coppery mixed with sweat — invaded your nostrils as he held you still. You could feel the firmness of his chest pressed against your back, the steady rhythm of his breathing in stark contrast to your own frantic, muffled gasps.

You tried to scream again, the sound dying uselessly against his palm. Tears of pure terror burned in the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision. The knife at your throat didn’t move, but you felt the slightest movement of the blade as he adjusted his grip, the sharp edge grazing your skin. Your entire body froze instantly. A sudden movement from either of you and the cut would be deep, perhaps fatal.

“Shhh, easy,” he murmured, his warm breath brushing your ear. “You make a sound, a fucking peep, and I’ll slit that pretty throat of yours. Nod for me if you understand.” he commanded.

All you could do now was cooperate if you wanted to get out of this situation alive and breathing. You closed your eyes and slowly nodded against his chest.

“That’s it… good girl.” he cooed, the compliment sliding smoothly against your ear. His thumb slid across your cheek in a teasing caress, spreading tears that had escaped your eyes down your cheeks.

The instant his palm lifted from your mouth, he violently turned you to face him. Brutally, he threw you against the bedroom wall. The back of your head slammed against the solid surface, sending a sharp wave of pain through your skull like blood mingling with water. The impact left you stunned and dizzy, the world spinning for a few terrifying seconds as black dots danced before your eyes. A low groan escaped your lips.

He kept the bloody knife pressed firmly against your neck, the sharp point now penetrating just enough to draw a thin, warm line of your own blood that trickled slowly down your collarbone. You gasped.

Now, for the first time, you could see him clearly, the dim moonlight illuminating his features; he was tall and thin, his skin terribly pale and covered in scars that looked like burns. His long, jet-black hair fell disheveled over his shoulders, partially covering one eye. Black ear gauges stretched his earlobes, accompanied by a few silver piercings. His nails were painted black, some chipped. Deep, black circles encircled his large, sleepless blue eyes, which remained fixed and motionless on you. And then there was his smile, brutally carved from ear to ear, the jagged scars pulling his lips into a grotesque, permanent grin, even when his mouth was closed. The cuts looked old, but were still fresh at the edges, leaking blood all over them.

He wore a white hoodie, filthy and heavily stained with splashes of dried blood on his chest and sleeves. Beneath, black jeans outlined his legs, and on his feet, black all stars sneakers, also worn and stained with dried blood.

Your breath caught in your throat as the recognition hit you like a second blow to the head.

You knew him. Jeff.

He’d walked into the video rental store where you worked about three weeks ago. Late at night, just before closing. He rented some old horror movies, barely said a word, only asked for your name, said his, paid in cash, and left. You remembered those piercing and unsettling blue eyes as he stared at you for too long while browsing the shelves in the horror movie aisle, a black bandana covering his sinister carved smile. He was… weird, to say the least. Sure, maybe weirder than most of the weirdos who usually showed up at the store. But harmless enough at the time.

Now, that same man had you pinned against your bedroom wall with a knife to your throat. But… how? How had he found your address? How had he managed to get in even with all the doors and windows locked? Well, now you couldn’t clearly remember if you had actually locked the bedroom window…

Jeff’s scarred lips tightened into an even wider, more horrifying smile, the sculpted edges stretching grotesquely, exposing his teeth through the lacerated flesh.

“You remember me, right?” he whispered, his voice low and heavy with dark pleasure as he noticed the recognition light up your face for a few seconds. He leaned closer, his face just inches from yours.

“J-Jeff…?” was all you managed to murmur, your voice barely above a shaky breath.

“See! You do remember me!” he exclaimed, sounding genuinely delighted. His manic blue eyes lit up with sick excitement, the deep black circles around them making the color pop even more unnaturally.

“Yeah… how could I forget a guy like you…” you couldn’t help but let out a sarcastic remark.

Jeff let out a low, raspy laugh that sounded more like a growl, clearly amused by your attitude. The carved smile on his face twisted grotesquely as he chuckled, the jagged scars crinkling and stretching.

“Feisty even with a knife to your throat… I like that…” he purred, his breath hot against your lips.

He slowly dragged the flat side of the bloody knife down the front of your throat, not cutting deeper, but letting you feel the cold steel and the sticky blood on the blade. That made you remember. Panic immediately flooded your senses.

“W-what… what do you want from me?” you whispered shakily, barely able to get the words out. “Please, Jeff… just tell me what you want.”

Jeff’s grotesque smile stretched even wider, the scarred corners of his mouth pulling tight as a low, delighted chuckle rumbled from his chest. He looked genuinely thrilled by your fear, like it was the best thing he’d heard all night.

“Oh, princess…” he murmured, his voice dripping with dark amusement. He tilted his head, long black hair falling over one eye as he studied your terrified expression. “I just want to play. That’s all. You can entertain me tonight, can’t you? Be my pretty little toy for a few hours…”

You were terrified, he could see it, smell it — taste it. He suddenly leaned in even closer, pressing his nose into your hair. You felt him inhale deeply, slowly, deliberately, breathing you in like he was savoring the most intoxicating scent in the world. A low, guttural groan rumbled from his chest, vibrating against you as he held the knife steady at your throat.

“Fuck, yes... you smell so good… even better up close.” he groaned, voice husky and dripping with hunger. He pulled back just enough to look at your face again. His wide eyes roamed over your tear-streaked cheeks with predatory fascination.

Then, without warning, he leaned in and dragged his warm, surprisingly long, wet tongue slowly up one of your cheeks, licking away the salty tears in one long, deliberate stroke. He did the same to the other side, savoring the taste, his scarred lips brushing your skin as he let out another soft, pleased groan.

“Mmm… so sweet...” he whispered against your damp skin, his breath hot and ragged. His fingers gripped your chin tightly, keeping your head exactly where he wanted it.

You shuddered violently, revulsion, fear, and… something else you couldn’t quite name twisted in your stomach. The wetness of his tongue lingered on your cheeks, making your skin crawl. Your head still throbbed from where it had slammed against the wall, and the cold steel of the knife kept you painfully aware that at any moment, he could end your life in an instant.

But he was savoring every second of it, you were aware of that. As if he was preparing the meat before devouring it. So… you could take advantage of that, couldn’t you?

“J-Jeff…” you started, trying to sound firmer, softer. “You… you said you wanted to… play. Well, we can play now.” you suggested, forcing a shaky smirk, your fearful eyes searching his hollow, manic blue ones, desperately looking for any sign that he might accept instead of simply gutting you right there.

Jeff froze immediately, and he just stared at you for some agonizing seconds. You were already thinking your attempt to make him decline the idea of gutting you had failed when his scarred smile slowly stretched wider, upwards, into what you thought was supposed to be a smirk. A dark, amused, delighted laugh bubbled from his throat.

When his laughter died out, he tilted his head, that smirk still there. He leaned back just enough to look you straight in the eyes, his voice turning playful yet dangerously serious.

“Right. Here’s the deal then. We’re going to play a little game. Hide and seek, my favorite. You get one minute to run and hide anywhere in this house. I’ll close my eyes and count. If I find you…” his tongue slid slowly across his scarred lips. “Then I get to do whatever I want with you. Anything. No limits.”

He paused, letting the horrifying weight of his words sink in.

“But if I can’t find you before the sun comes up… I’ll leave. I’ll walk out that door and you’ll never see me again. I promise.”

You didn’t know if you could trust a guy who has stalked you for weeks, just broke into your house and now is making you play a twisted game to not kill you. Oh, yeah, of course. But, as much as unpredictable, unstable and untrustable Jeff seemed to be, you decided to agree. Whatever to stay alive.

His blue eyes gleamed with pure madness and excitement as he watched your reaction. The permanent carved smile on his face made the “promise” look like a sick joke.

Jeff finally stepped back, giving you the tiniest bit of space. He pulled the knife away from your neck, though he still held it casually in his hand, the blade glinting under the moonlight.

He raised one black-nailed finger to his lips in a mocking “shhh” gesture.

“Better start running. Your minute starts… now.”

He turned around dramatically, facing the opposite wall, and began counting in a low, singsong voice that echoed through the silent house.

“One…”

“Two…”

His voice was calm, almost cheerful, but you could hear the hunger underneath it.

“Three…”

Your legs felt like jelly. Your head still throbbed from being slammed against the wall. Every instinct screamed at you to run. But all you could do was stand there like a terrified lamb waiting for its sacrifice.

“Four…”

Jeff didn’t even turn around, but you could feel his twisted smile growing as he counted.

“Five…”

“Six…”

Adrenaline flushed through your veins, burning away the dizziness in your head from hitting the wall. Without thinking twice, your legs bolted.

You sprinted down the room, flashing the dark hallway, bare feet against the cold wooden floor. Your breath came in short, panicked gasps as you tried to think of the best spot for hiding, your eyes flickering frenetically from each end of each way possible. All of them seemed like a trap now.

“Seven… eight… nine…”

Jeff’s calm, singsong voice was a constant reminder of how much time you were losing by standing there. Your heart was pounding in your ribcage, you could hear the frantic pulse in your ears, while your mind raced desperately.

You didn’t dare turn any lights on. The only lighting came from the faint moonlight filtering from the half-open curtains and the single hallway bulb you’d left on earlier. You still had some seconds to think.

Closet? Too obvious. Under the bed? It’ll be the first place he’ll check. Basement? No, too far, too dark, too loud...

You darted into the living room, nearly tripping over the coffee table in the dark.

“Twenty… twenty-one…”

Heart pounding, you made a split-second decision and ran toward the kitchen. You quietly opened the pantry door, slipped inside, and carefully closed it behind you, leaving only a tiny crack for air. The small space smelled of spices and old wood. You crouched down behind the tall shelves, pulling your knees to your chest and trying to make yourself as small as possible. Your hands trembled violently as you pressed them over your mouth to muffle your loud, erratic breathing.

“Thirty-five… thirty-six…”

You tried to steady your breathing, but every inhale felt too loud. Tears streamed silently down your cheeks. This can’t be real. This can’t be happening. The image of Jeff’s pale face, those black-ringed eyes, and that gruesome smile burned behind your eyelids.

“Forty-eight… forty-nine… fifty…”

His counting grew slower, more deliberate, like he was savoring the moment.

You squeezed your eyes shut, praying that he wouldn’t find you. You could still feel the ghost of his body pressed against yours, his hot breath on your ear, the cold blade against your skin…

“Fifty-eight… fifty-nine… sixty.”

Silence.

Then came the sound you dreaded most; slow, deliberate footsteps echoing through the hallway.

“Ready or not…” Jeff called out in a playful tone that sent ice through your veins. “Here I come!”

You heard him move around the house with terrifying calmness. You heard your closet door creaking at first, furniture being shoved aside, drawings being opened… He didn't seem to be rushing. He was enjoying the hunt.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…” he hummed softly, his voice growing closer to the kitchen. “I can smell you, you know. It’s sweet.” he let out a soft, raspy, disturbing chuckle.

He went into the kitchen, you were sure. You could hear his shoes scrapping through the tiled floor, slow and steady. It stopped right in front of the pantry door.

Your entire body went rigid. You held your breath. You closed your eyes shut, feeling the tears soak your cheeks.

The pantry door creaked open slightly.

Moonlight spilled in through the crack, illuminating the shelves. You saw the shadow of Jeff's tall figure standing there.

Jeff inhaled deeply, almost like he was smelling the air.

“Mmm… I know you’re there,” he whispered, voice dripping with dark hunger. “I can hear your little heart racing.”

He took one step closer. Then another. The door opened wider.

Your stomach dropped as his pale hand with black-painted nails appeared, gripping the edge of the pantry door fully and yanked it open with a sharp motion. The sudden movement made you flinch violently. You tried to shrink further into the corner behind the shelves, but there was nowhere left to go.

Jeff tilted his head, that horrifying carved grin widening as his eyes locked onto you. For a second he just stared, drinking in the sight of you trembling, curled up like a frightened, wounded animal.

“There you are…” he whispered, almost tenderly. “Look at you. So small. So scared. So fucking perfect.”

You couldn’t stop the broken sob that escaped your lips.

In one swift movement, he reached in, grabbed a fistful of your hair and dragged you out the pantry. You cried out as he yanked you forward, your scalp burning. Your bare feet stumbled across the kitchen tiles as he pulled you upright and slammed your back against the kitchen counter.

The knife was back at your throat instantly, the cold, sticky bloodied blade pressing firmly under your chin, forcing your head up.

“Game over,” Jeff said with dark amusement, his face inches from your. “I win.”

You were shaking uncontrollably now, tears streaming down your cheeks. Your voice cracked with pure terror as you murmured: “No, wait… Please… you said if you didn’t find me…”

“I said before sunrise,” he interrupted, chuckling. “And I found you in under two minutes. Pathetic, really. I thought you could do better than that...”

He pressed his body against yours, trapping you between the counter and his lean, surprisingly strong frame. You could feel the warmth of his chest through the bloody hoodie, the metallic smell of blood and faint sweat invading your senses. His long hair brushed your face as he leaned in closer, his scarred lips ghosting over your jaw.

“You lost, princess,” he breathed against your skin, voice husky and dripping with excitement. “That means I get to do whatever I want with you tonight.”

His free hand slid slowly down your side, fingers digging into your waist possessively. The knife stayed steady at your throat, a constant deadly reminder.

Jeff pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes again. His manic blue gaze was filled with pure, unfiltered hunger, madness and… affection?

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long…” he muttered softly, his wide eyes roaming over your tear-streaked face. “Watching you, waiting for you…” he leaned slowly closer until his scarred lips were ghosting over your cheeks, depositing, to your surprise, small kisses all over the damp skin of your cheeks.

Surprise flashed through your senses at the unexpected tenderness, the contrast jarring against the cold bite of steel pressing into your neck. His lips were rough, scarred and warm, brushing away a few of your tears with each gentle press. He hummed low in his throat, almost content, as if this were some long-awaited reunion rather than the nightmare it was.

“You’re even prettier up close,” he whispered between kisses, his voice dropping into something almost reverent. His fingers on your waist tightened, pulling your body flush against his in a possessive hold that left no room for escape. “So soft… so perfect. My pretty little thing.”

He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, careful not to let the knife slip, and inhaled deeply, like he was savoring your scent. The tip of the blade never wavered, but his other hand stroked up and down your side in slow, soothing circles, as if trying to calm a frightened animal.

“I love you,” Jeff breathed against your skin, the words raw and fervent, laced with that unhinged devotion. “I love you so fucking much it hurts. You have no idea how long I’ve loved you… how many nights I spent watching you, how many nights I spent planning this perfect moment…”

He pulled back again, just far enough to lock eyes with you, his grin stretching wider, the carved smile pulling at his pale cheeks. The affection in his gaze was genuine in its own twisted way, burning brighter than the madness. “Now say it back,” he demanded softly, though the command was edged with steel, just like the knife. His thumb brushed tenderly over your bottom lip, wiping away another tear. “Say it: ‘I love you too, Jeff’.”

You hesitated, your trembling lips refusing to form the words. Then, you felt the press of the knife just a fraction firmer against your pulse, quickly reminding you again of your fate. That gave you enough courage to force your fear-hazed brain to work.

“I… I love you too, Jeff.” you felt your cheeks burning as soon as you realized what you just said.

Jeff’s expression shifted with triumph, the manic light in his eyes flickering with amusement, something almost playful. “Liar,” he whispered, chuckling lowly, the sound vibrating through his chest where it was pressed against you, sending shivers down your spine. “But you will soon.” he promised, voice dripping into an affectionate murmur.

Without any warning, Jeff suddenly spun you around, bending you forward over the kitchen counter with brutal force. Your cheek pressed hard against the cold marble as he kept the knife to the side of your neck. His hips pressed against your ass from behind, pinning you completely.

Jeff’s carved smile pressed coldly against the nape of your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin as his fingers continued their slow, possessive journey under your thin t-shirt. His black-painted nails scraped lightly up your spine, raising goosebumps everywhere they touched.

You were bent helplessly over the kitchen counter, cheek smashed against the cold marble, ass pushed out against him. The bloody knife stayed firmly against the side of your throat, the sharp edge biting just enough to remind you how easily he could end you.

“Such soft skin,” he murmured, voice thick with lust and madness. “I’ve imagined how you’d feel for weeks… and you’re so much better than I thought.”

His hips rocked forward slowly, grinding his growing erection against your ass through his jeans, letting you feel exactly what the game had done to him. A low, raspy groan escaped his scarred lips.

You whimpered, fresh tears slipping down your face and onto the counter.

“P-please… Jeff…” you begged, voice small and broken.

He laughed softly, the sound vibrating against your back.

“Begging already? But we’ve barely started…”

With one rough tug, he yanked your t-shirt up to your shoulders, exposing your bare back to the cool air. His hand roamed greedily over your skin, squeezing, scratching, claiming every inch. Then he reached around and roughly palmed one of your breasts through your t-shirt, pinching your nipple hard enough to make you gasp sharply.

“That’s it,” he hissed in approval. “Make those pretty little sounds for me.”

He suddenly pulled you upright by your hair, spinning you around to face him again. Your back hit the counter edge as he towered over you. Up close, his appearance was even more terrifying and… mesmerizing.

Jeff stared straight into your terrified eyes as he slowly dragged the flat of the knife down between your breasts, the cold steel making you shiver violently.

“Take it off,” he ordered, voice low and dangerous. “All of it. I want to see what’s mine tonight.”

When you hesitated, trembling too much to move, he pressed the blade harder against your stomach.

“Now,” he growled. “Or I’ll cut it off you myself… and I might not be careful.”

With shaking hands, you pulled the t-shirt over your head and dropped it to the floor. The cool air hit your exposed breasts, making your nipples harden immediately. Jeff’s eyes darkened with hunger, his carved grin widening impossibly.

“Fuck… look at you.” he breathed, almost reverently. He holstered the knife for a second in the waistband of his jeans, only to replace it with his hands. Both of them grabbed your breasts roughly, squeezing and kneading while his thumbs flicked over your sensitive nipples.

You bit your lip hard to stay quiet, but a soft, involuntary moan escaped anyway.

Jeff’s eyes lit up with savage delight.

“Don’t hold back,” he whispered, leaning down to drag his tongue slowly across your collarbone, licking up the trail of dried blood from earlier. “Let me know how good I’m making you feel…” he let out a delighted whimper.

One of his hands slid down your stomach, fingers slipping under the waistband of your shorts. He pushed them down along with your panties in one rough motion, letting them pool at your ankles. You were completely naked now, pressed against the kitchen counter while he remained fully dressed in his bloodied clothes.

Jeff stepped back for a moment, just staring at your exposed body like a predator admiring his catch. His long hair fell across his face as he tilted his head, black nails tapping the handle of the knife still tucked in his jeans.

“So fucking beautiful,” he said softly. Then his voice dropped into a darker, more commanding tone. “Get on your knees.”

When you didn’t move fast enough, he grabbed you by the hair and forced you down onto the cold kitchen floor. The knife was back in his hand instantly, pressing against your cheek as he stood over you.

“Look at me while you do it,” he ordered, using his free hand to unzip his black jeans. “No teeth.” he smirked.

His hard cock sprang free, pale and throbbing, the tip already glistening. He guided it to your lips, smearing the precum across them.

“Open your mouth, princess,” Jeff commanded, his voice low and rough with arousal. His fingers twisted tighter in your hair, yanking your head back slightly so you had no choice but to look up at him.

You hesitated for only a second, lips trembling.

Jeff’s manic blue eyes narrowed. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

He gave little taps on your cheek with the cold flat of the knife, pressing it harder against your skin, just to remind you of what was waiting for you if you didn’t comply; the sticky blood smearing across it beautifully. You gasped, flinching away from the steel instinctively. Jeff was quick to put you back in your place; tightening his knuckles against your locks, the pain pinching deeper in your already sore scalp.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jeff said mockingly, shaking his head as he kept tightening his knuckles on your hair. You let out an involuntary cry. “Tsk, tsk… such a bad girl. Still fighting…”

Your hands immediately flew to his knuckles on your hair, scratching your nails on his skin, while your watery, pleading eyes were set on him, silently asking for him to be gentle. Though that didn’t make him loosen his grip.

“Try to run again and I’ll cut you open,” he warned, voice low and serious. “Understand?”

You nodded frantically, a whimper escaping you. Your hand immediately left his knuckles to rest flat and shakingly against your thigh.

“Open your fucking mouth. Now.” Jeff commanded again.

You parted your lips, and he immediately pushed forward, sliding the head of his cock into your warm mouth. He was thick and hot against your tongue, the salty taste of his precum filling your senses. A deep, guttural groan rumbled from his chest as he sank deeper, not stopping until he hit the back of your throat.

“Fuuuck… that’s it,” he hissed through his carved smile, the scars stretching grotesquely. “Look at those pretty lips wrapped around me. Just like I imagined...”

He held your head in place with both hands now — one still gripping your hair, the other pressing the knife flat against your other cheek, the tip dangerously close to your eye. You could feel his pulse throbbing against your tongue as he started to move, slow and deep at first, savoring every second.

Tears spilled down your face as you struggled to breathe around him, gagging softly when he pushed too far. The sound only seemed to excite him more.

“Yeah… choke on it,” he growled, his long black hair falling forward as he looked down at you. His pale skin was flushed with pleasure, the deep black circles around his eyes making him look even more deranged. “You have no idea how many nights I jerked off thinking about fucking that smart mouth of yours while you were safe in your bed.”

He began thrusting harder, hips snapping forward with more force, using your mouth roughly. The wet, obscene sounds of him sliding in and out filled the silent kitchen. Every time you tried to pull back for air, he forced you back down, the knife never leaving your face.

“Good girl… just like that,” he praised breathlessly, his carved grin never fading. “You’re doing so well. Taking me so deep even while you’re crying. Fuck, you look beautiful like this.”

After several long, brutal minutes, he finally pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting your swollen lips to his glistening cock. You gasped desperately for air, coughing and trembling on your knees.

Jeff didn’t give you long to recover. He grabbed you by the arms and hauled you up, slamming your back against the kitchen counter once again. In one swift motion, he lifted you onto the cold marble surface, spreading your legs wide and stepping between them. The knife returned to your throat immediately.

“Spread them more.” he ordered.

You obeyed, terrified, your entire body shaking. Jeff looked down between your legs, his blue eyes darkening with raw hunger as he saw how wet you were despite your fear.

“Pathetic,” he mocked with a dark chuckle. “Scared out of your mind and your pussy is still dripping for me. What a filthy little thing you are.”

He rubbed the head of his cock slowly up and down your slick folds, teasing your clit, coating himself in your arousal. You whimpered, gripping the edge of the counter so hard your knuckles turned white.

Jeff leaned over you, his bloody hoodie brushing against your bare breasts. His face hovered inches from yours, that horrifying permanent smile filling your vision.

“Beg me to fuck you,” he whispered hotly against your lips. “Beg me nicely, or I’ll shove this knife somewhere much worse than your throat.”

Your voice came out broken and small, thick with tears: “Please… Jeff… please, fuck me…”

His eyes flashed with triumph.

“I can’t hear you...”

“Please! Please, fuck me, Jeff…” you cried, voice cracking.

That was all he needed.

With one brutal thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, stretching you open painfully. A sharp cry tore from your throat as he filled you completely. Jeff groaned loudly in pleasure, his head falling back for a moment, long black hair swaying.

“Goddamn… so fucking tight.” he growled.

He didn’t wait. He started fucking you hard and fast right there on the kitchen counter, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the house. One hand kept the knife pressed to your throat while the other gripped your hip hard enough to bruise, pulling you into every savage thrust.

“Say my name,” he demanded, pounding into you mercilessly. “Say it while I ruin this pretty pussy.”

“J-Jeff…!” you sobbed.

“Louder!” he snarled, angling his hips to hit that spot inside you that made stars explode behind your eyes.

“Jeff! Oh God… Jeff!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face.

His carved smile widened into something truly monstrous as he fucked you harder, leaning down to lick the tears from your cheeks with his tongue.

You felt your body jolting with every deep stroke, your gummy walls already clenching around his length. Despite the absolute terror you were feeling, you couldn’t help but whimper every time Jeff stroked that soft spot inside you.

“Fuck, Jeff… yeah…” you whimpered pathetically as he kept abusing your cunt, his scarred lips now leaving your cheeks to work on your neck, nibbling and twisting the skin hard between his teeth. He chuckled when you gasped and clenched harder around him.

“Yeah? You like that?” he asked, his breath ghosting over your ear. “I knew you would end up liking it. Such a filthy little slut for me…” he purred.

Unexpectedly, the knife that was being held up to your neck was left aside as he tossed it somewhere — still close enough that he could grab it by the handle and press it against your beautiful neck if even the slightest thought of escaping crossed your, now, useless cock-drunk brain — in the counter, being replaced by his white pale hands.

Jeff laced his hands on your throat, squeezing the sides of your skin at the same time he pounded into you. The pressure made your head spin, vision blurring at the edges as pleasure and fear mixed into something sick and addictive. Your nails dug deep into his shoulders still covered by the hoodie, and he hissed in approval, hips snapping harder.

“J-Jeff…” you let out a weak whisper, feeling your vision hazing. The lack of air only made Jeff's thrusts even more intense and delicious now. Not long enough, you became a babbling mess below him.

You could feel your orgasm building up in your stomach. You were so close, and you could tell Jeff was as well by the way his hips were faltering against you, his thrusts getting more erratic and a little slow. You could feel his fingers starting to loosen its tight grip, increasingly easing the delicious, delirious pressure on your neck until his hands were just there, holding your sore throat gently.

Jeff’s hips stuttered, his breathing turning ragged as he felt you tightening around him again.

“Aww, you’re gonna cum for me, right? C’mon… you were so chatty before. Use that pretty mouth of yours.” one of his hands left your throat, slipping between your bodies, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing it in fast, relentless circles.

A gasp followed by a sharp whimper rolled out of your lips as you tried to gather any words to reply. Your mind felt like a huge cloud of pleasure. “Mmmph, yeah… I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum, Jeff.” was all that you managed to let out, your hips shakily moving against his fingers, trying to get more of the friction he was applying while his cock kissed your cervix deliciously.

Jeff’s eyes lit up, amused by your attitude, amused that you were chasing more of him. The pressure built fast until your vision whited out and your whole body seized, orgasm crashing through you in violent waves. You cried out his name in frenetic follow-ups.

Jeff followed right after with a guttural groan, burying himself to the hilt as he spilled his cum deep inside you, hot and thick. He didn’t pull out. Instead he collapsed against you, still twitching, still leaking, arms wrapping around your trembling frame like a vice.

“My sweet girl…” he murmured into your neck, pressing soft, obsessive kisses along the bruises he’d left.

His lips left your neck and he pressed his forehead against yours, those unblinking eyes staring straight into your hazy ones with something that looked like worship. He leaned in, letting his scarred lips hover against yours for a bit, his quick hot breath fanning across them. He kissed you then, messy and desperate, tongue pushing past your lips like he wanted to crawl inside your soul. You whimpered against his mouth, trying to keep up with his pace, moving your tongue against his.

When he pulled out, a weak string of saliva connected both of your mouths.

“I love you,” he whispered against your mouth, the words dripping with obsession, sick and heavy. “Love you so much. I’d kill anyone who even looks at you. You know that, right? You’re mine. Only mine.” his hands slid up to cup your face, thumbs brushing away the almost dried tears from the corners of your eyes. The touch was gentle, almost loving.

He pulled away just enough to look you straight, he seemed to enjoy the vision. Now, you could see his face more clearly above you; his dark pupils were blown wide, almost covering the blue irises entirely, his eyelids — now you saw that he actually had them — were half-lid, the tips of his dark hair brushing the sides of your bruised neck, his expression distorted with affection. He was beautiful.

You could feel him growing flaccid inside you, and he immediately slid out of you, leaving you empty again, but his cum leaking down your thighs obscenely. Without letting his eyes leave your face, he straightened up, pulling his pants up. You realized you were bare naked as you straightened yourself on the counter, sitting up to meet his gaze.

He seemed to realize that as well, tilting his head slightly before bending down to gather your clothes from the floor. He moved with an odd calmness, like this was something ordinary, something domestic.

He handed them to you without a word.

“Thanks…” you said softly, pulling your shirt over your shoulders, then your panties followed by your shorts.

He watched you finish dressing, that wide, carved grin never leaving his face. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Your heart hammered so hard you were sure he could hear it. Now that it was over, the fear came crashing back in full force.

You swallowed hard, voice barely above a whisper. “…Are you going to kill me now?”

Jeff paused. For a second the only sound was the faint drip of the kitchen faucet. Then a low, raspy chuckle slipped out between his teeth.

“Kill you?” he tilted his head, the motion almost bird-like. “Nah. Not tonight.”

Not tonight? So he has plans to kill you sometime? That made your throat tighten and… your cunt clench.

He stepped closer again, crowding you against the counter. One pale hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb pressing into your cheek hard enough to make the skin whiten. “Say it,” he murmured, voice dropping into that dangerous, velvet-rough tone. “Tell me you love me. And this time… mean it.”

Your lips trembled. The words felt heavy, but they came out willingly, soft and gentle. “I love you, Jeff.”

Something shifted in his expression. The endless black pits around his eyes seemed to soften, just a fraction. The carved smile actually looked… pleased. Genuinely pleased. He let out a slow breath, almost like relief, and his forehead rested against yours for a moment. “Good girl,” he whispered. “My good fucking girl. You finally get it. You’re just like me.”

For a heartbeat, the moment felt almost tender. Then, without warning, he grabbed you by the hips and slammed you back down onto the counter, pinning you flat with his body. The breath left your lungs in a gasp. Before you could even react, his hand flashed to the end of the counter and the familiar silver blade of his knife appeared, gleaming under the dim kitchen light. He pressed the cold edge right against your throat, the sharp tip kissing your pulse right again.

He said he wasn’t going to kill you. Well, maybe not tonight. So, he should keep his promise... right? But the thought of him just pushing that knife into you, coating himself with your blood… was enough to make you whimper involuntarily.

Jeff let out a dark chuckle when he noticed the needy sound that slipped through you. “Oh, you like this, don’t ya?” he hissed, eyes wild with dark delight. “Knowing I could slit your pretty little throat right now and watch you bleed out while you’re still leaking from me. Say it. Tell me you love that I can kill you whenever I want.”

Your voice cracked, fear and something much darker twisting together. “I… I love it…”

Before you could finish, he dragged the knife down in one smooth, deliberate motion. The blade bit into the soft skin of your lower belly, carving deep enough to draw a bright line of red. Pain exploded across your nerves. You cried out sharply, body jerking against his hold, tears instantly springing to your eyes.

But deep down, beneath the burning sting and the terror, a sick, shameful heat bloomed in your chest. You hated how much you craved the ownership in that cut.

Jeff kept carving, slow and careful, forming the jagged letters of his name into your flesh.

J E F F

Blood welled up immediately, trickling down your sides and staining the edge of the counter. When he was finished, he lifted the knife, admiring his work with a smile. He brought the blade to his mouth and dragged his tongue along the flat of it, licking your blood clean off the steel with obvious relish. You felt your folds wetting beneath your panties yet again at the sight of that.

“It gets so much sweeter when you’re scared,” he rasped, voice thick with satisfaction, tongue licking his lips like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. “Just so you won’t forget me.”

You were still panting, tears streaming down your face, the fresh cuts throbbing with every heartbeat. He stared at you for a long moment, drinking in the sight of you broken and bleeding and still looking at him like that.

Then, without another word, Jeff turned and walked out of the kitchen. You heard the front door clicking shut a few seconds later, leaving you alone on the counter with his name freshly etched into your skin and the echo of his words ringing in your ears.

Just so you won’t forget me.

You definitely wouldn’t.

As the late afternoon settled over New York City, the first cool raindrops kissed your skin, hinting at the storm gathering in the distance. Your hurried footsteps carried you along, grocery bags in hand as you closed in on your apartment building block by block. Wanting to try a new recipe after work had caused you to wander to the grocery store, which was quite a ways from your apartment. How unfortunate, being as you were sure the bottom was about to fall out and you and the grocery bags would be soaked. You held on hope, walking faster than normal, eyes tilting to the sky every few moments as it grew a deeper grey.

Your eyes squinted at the first signs of your building, and irritation quickly grew when you noticed a small crowd by the front entrance. Brows furrowed, you crossed the final crosswalk and closed in on the group of people. Of all places to gather, here? Really? Though you weren’t entirely sure what for at first, you told yourself to ignore it and scoot past them all. You just wanted to get inside.

That’s when you spotted him. You nearly physically recoiled, eyes widening a bit. Blinking, you swore your eyes deceived you. Why on earth was Michael Jackson outside of your apartment? You stood behind the crowd, glancing around for a moment, noticing the lack of anyone who looked important besides him. Surely he wasn’t wandering the streets alone?

You huffed, lifting one of the heavy grocery bags higher on your hip as your brain worked a mile a minute. First of all, you loved Michael Jackson. This felt like some sort of odd fever dream. Rationality broke through however, your eyes raking along his features. You couldn’t see his eyes for the sunglasses shielding them, but what you could see made your stomach churn. He looked worried. Glancing around every few seconds after signing miscellaneous items and kindly nodding at folks. Teeth gnawing at his bottom lip. He was alone. Lacking security. Possibly lost. And the crowd was only growing. Likely close to twenty-five people now.

So, you made your mind up quickly. Rounding the crowd, you mumbled ‘excuse me’ over and over as you cut past people. A few of them getting visibly annoyed with you. “You’re blocking the entrance. People who live here can’t get in!” You said a little loud, causing some of them to take a few steps back. Without another thought, you closed in on the celebrity, clearly startling him. “I live here, come with me.” You said without hesitation, and something flashed through his eyes. Something like relief. Maybe laced with a little fear. “The crowd’s getting worse— I can help.” You said next, and you watched him nod, not saying anything as he waved at the crowd and started to follow you. As the two of you entered the front corridor, you made sure the door locked behind you. Fans still hollering, watching Michael through the glass door.

“Elevator.” You muttered quickly, growing a little scared when one started to pull at the door handle. The door was shitty and though it locked you absolutely didn’t trust it.

You watched Michael follow you into the cramped elevator, only letting out a breath of relief when the metal door slid closed. “Thank you.” He said immediately, pushing his sunglasses up.

“You don’t have to thank me.” You said quickly, smiling a little. “May I ask where your security is, though?”

“Back at the hotel.” He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly shaken. “I uh— snuck out.”

“Well, I hope I haven’t freaked you out. I just figured you could hide away here until the crowd is gone. Think it’s about to storm too.” You explained, the elevator coming to a stop shortly after. “You probably shouldn’t sneak out like that. That could’ve been bad.”

He smiled weakly, lowering his head. “Yeah.” His voice was melodic. Sweet. “I’ve done it before and gotten mobbed. Was hoping this time that wouldn’t happen but…”

“You wanted to feel normal.” You finish for him. “I get it.”

He meets your eyes, looking a little embarrassed. Warmth spreads quickly through his chest as he realizes you understand. And for a moment, he drinks you in. Eyes raking along your soft features. Comforting smile. His guardian angel. Surely you were sent to him on purpose.

The metal door slides open once again, and you’re met with a quiet hallway.

“Can I help you carry something?” Michael asks, motioning to the large brown grocery bags.

“Oh.” You chuckle, offering him one. “Thank you.”

As you step into the hallway, you fiddle with your keys, picking out the familar worn gold one as you walk toward your door. And when the lock flicks, a loud chorus of meows erupt from behind the wooden door.

“Sorry in advance for my cat. She’s a bit of a menace.” You say, hearing Michael laugh a little behind you.

As the two of you enter the apartment, Michael glanced around. For some reason, he felt safe. Even though you were a total stranger. The space was clean. Cozy. Smelled like pine. And then, a loud meowing at his feet as a beautiful tabby cat rubbed against his ankle. “Hi there.” He giggled, the sound of his laughter hitting you like a punch to the gut.

You sat the large grocery bag down on your kitchen counter before you reached for the one he was carrying, thanking him again.

And then, you turned to reach out a hand to him, speaking your name with confidence. He smiled, moving to shake your hand. “Since I didn’t get to introduce myself normally.” You chuckled.

“Thank you, really.” He said, tone genuine. “I appreciate it.”

“It’s no issue at all. Make yourself at home.” You say simply. “I know you don’t know me, but I promise I’m not a weirdo.”

He lets out another sweet laugh. “I believe you.”

You begin to unpack the groceries, and Michael is quick to help, making small talk in the meanwhile. He asks you questions, figuring he might as well get to know you a little. He’d probably be here for a few hours with the rain that was now pouring outside.

So, you open up to him. Answer his questions. Ask him some. It feels normal. Not like a world famous celebrity is standing in your kitchen.

“Glass of wine?” You offer, tilting your head.

“No thank you.” He smiles politely. And you nod.

Once you pour yourself one and turn back around, Michael has wandered out of the small kitchen. You peek out of the doorway, noticing him flipping through your large collection of records.

After a few seconds, he speaks up.

“You listen to me?” He looks over his shoulder, picking Thriller out of the pile.

“Most people do.” You retort, smiling. Making him laugh again. You’re fun. Playful. He likes you.

Michael grins, and thanks his lucky stars that of all the places he could get stuck at, it was here. Of all the people he could be stuck with, it’s you. Sure, you were a stranger. But you were clever. Polite. Clearly generous. And most definitely pretty. Maybe sneaking out hadn’t been such a bad idea after all. For the first time in a while he felt normal. Bill would most definitely fuss at him later for trusting a random person. Following them into their apartment. Intuition though, told Michael he was more than safe here.

You took to a nearby window, sliding it open and letting the sound of rain fill the small space. Breathing in the fresh air. Glass of wine in hand, you took to the couch next, watching Michael place a record onto the turntable, reaching to drop the needle. Otis Redding’s familar voice started to fill the room, and you immediately smiled, nodding in approval. One of your favorites.

“I’ve always wondered what you listen to.” You say, breaking the silence between the two of you.

Michael smiles. “What d’ya mean?”

“Everyone listens to you.” You explain. “You create the music. I just always wonder when I listen to music what the artists listen to. Where they get inspiration from.”

Michael thinks he could listen to your voice all day. Something about it is painfully soothing.

“Knowing you listen to Otis Redding pleases me deeply.” You finish, laughing a little.

“Everyone listens to Otis Redding.” Michael plays, taking a seat on a nearby loveseat.

“Mmmm, not true.” You smile smugly, sipping your wine. “I’ve had quite a few friends flip through those records and have no clue who he is.”

“Well, everyone with good taste listens to him then.” Michael corrects playfully, watching the way your lips turn up into a smile.

“I’ll accept that.”

An hour later you find yourself back in the kitchen, sautéing some vegetables and admittedly feeling a little buzzed from two glasses of wine. Wondering just how your random Tuesday evening had turned into this. Cooking a meal as Michael Jackson kept you company, telling you a story about being in the studio recently. He’d requested to help you cook but inevitably almost chopped a finger off when he was slicing some vegetables, so he relinquished himself of said duties, both of you laughing together. So there he was, looking painfully handsome as he watched you. The pretty stranger he was absolutely struck by.

The rain had started to dissipate, and between the glowing candle or two on the coffee table and the low music flowing throughout the living room, everything felt oh so cozy. Michael watched you, bowl in hand, as you swung a leg out of the open window, looking back at him with a smile. He raised a brow, walking closer. “Figured I’d show you my favorite spot.” You smiled back at him. A true smile that made his cheeks heat up. He watched you climb out onto the fire escape, spread out a towel, and take a seat. Quickly patting the spot next to you. You’d always hated heights but thankfully you were only a couple floors up, so it didn’t bother you too terribly bad. Often finding solace in this very spot, listening to the sounds of the city.

Michael climbed out clumsily, taking a seat next to you, fascination flowing through him. Eyes flickering around as he took in his surroundings. Tall buildings. People walking below. “I love to people watch.” He admits. “I could sit here for hours.”

“Mmm.” You agreed, taking a bite of your food. “Me too. I sit out here a lot.”

“You’ve got a cozy place.” Michael says, moving his fork around.

“Cozy but painfully small.” You chuckle. “And overly expensive.”

As you watch him take a bite, you see his eyes light up, a groan leaving him. You smile as you watch him enjoy his food, watching the people wander below.

For a while, you stayed silent, letting him unwind. Watching him just exist. The man you’d only ever seen on TV. Heard on the radio. The larger than life musician who many only dreamed of sharing a moment with. And here you were. Next to him on your fire escape. Giggling like you’d been friends for years. Life had a funny way of working sometimes.

Following dinner, Michael was able to get his security on the phone after a failed attempt a bit earlier. Organizing someone to come pick him up.

“They were worried sick.” He chuckled a little, watching you lean against the couch.

“I bet they were!” You smiled. “They’re gonna start locking you in your hotel room if you keep running off.”

“God, I hope not.” He laughs as he lingers nearby. “Maybe it wasn’t the smartest decision but atleast this time it was worth it. Meeting you I mean.”

Your face softens, cheeks heating up. “Glad I could help. It was nice to meet you as well, despite the circumstances.”

“And thank you for dinner.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Michael.”

He smiles, shy. “But I do. You saved me and took me in and cooked me dinner. Made me feel human again. I’ll always remember it.”

In the last few moments of your time together, Michael was quick to obtain your phone number, expressing that he’d want to come back and visit you when he was in the city again. And after a quick hug, he was gone. Swept away by his head of security who was sure to quietly thank you for keeping Michael safe before he left.

As you closed the door behind you, you leaned up against it, smiling like a fool. Shaking your head a little in disbelief. And when you started to walk towards the kitchen to clean up, you noticed something on the coffee table. His own record he’d pulled out of your stack. As you approached the table, hands reaching for the Thriller album, you noticed the marker next to it.

His handwriting graced your eyes, a tiny message he’d scribbled in the corner.

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞, 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞.

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥.

under the fluorescent yellow light, you saw armin freeze, tips of his ears turning a dark shade of red. "nothing," he said, but it was a bit too quickly so you knew that he was lying. "don't worry about it."

"what did you say?"

armin dropped his forehead against the open pages of his black notebook, groaning quietly as to not disturb any of the other students at tables near you. you laughed, cocking your head to the side. sunlight shined through the window next to you, catching the golden strands of armin's hair.

he looked back up at you. "i asked if you'd maybe want to go to get coffee with me on saturday." he stared at his notebook then, stubbornly like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"are you asking me on a date?" you asked, reaching across the table to nudge his papers, prompting him to look back up at you.

"that was the idea."

your heartbeat picked up, realizing that yes, armin was trying to ask you on a date. you knew that there was something different shifting between the both of you, and maybe you should've asked him to go on a date sooner.

he was always saving you a seat before class started if you were going to be a little late, he always walked you home whenever you two would be up late in the evenings for study sessions. you thought you had been making it up in your head, but the way that armin was looking as red as a strawberry right now, you knew that the feelings were mutual.

you gave him a smile. "of course, min. you said saturday?"

his eyebrows lifted, relief spreading across his whole face.

"yes, saturday!"

that saturday, you promised to meet armin at the local coffee shop around ten in the morning. you spent twenty minutes deciding what to wear because armin had only seen you in your half assed outfits to go to school, you wanted to look cute for him.

you didn't want to be late, so you made your way over to the shop ignoring the way that your heart was beating a million miles per minute in your chest. when you checked the clock on your phone as you entered the café, you saw it was 9:53.

the scent of fresh coffee and sweet pastries filled your senses, greeting you into the space. not so surprisingly, there was already a crowd of people here for the weekend rush. some students sat at the corner tables and over by the high tables by the windows with their laptops open and there were others reading books and newspapers.

you searched the room, about to pull out your phone again to text armin, but it wasn't hard to spot him in the crowd. he was already sitting at a smaller, two person table near the corner window. the mug in both of his hands was steaming, fogging up the bottom of his glasses lens. as you walked up closer to him, you saw he was wearing a cream colored sweater underneath a light jacket.

upon seeing you, armin stood up quick enough that the chair scraped lightly against the floor, making both of you giggle. "i got here early . . ." he said when you made it in front of him.

"how early?"

" . . . 9:35"

you laughed. "were you really that nervous?"

"no! i just wanted to make sure there was a table for us!"

you hummed, not really believing him but you didn't want to add to his embarrassment. the nervousness that you had felt while you were getting ready and walking over here seemed to dissipate, leaving just the same comfortable energy between the two of you. it was always easy to talk to armin.

after getting your own cup, setting it down on the wooden table, you listened to him talk about some movie he had watched earlier that week, stirring more sugar into his coffee. you were definitely looking at him more than you were listening, he always looked so passionate when he talked about things that interested him. armin's eyes would light up and he would have a tiny smile, pushing the strands of his blonde hair behind his ear.

" . . . y/n, you're staring at me. did i spill coffee on myself or something?"

your cheeks reddened, shaking your head. "no, sorry."

armin gave you a big smile, hiding it by sipping on his mug. you always knew when he was trying to not look pleased with himself. "i think it's nice," he said when he put the coffee back on the table.

"what's nice?"

"i don't know . . ." armin gave an awkward smile. "i just think it's nice knowing you're staring at me."

"well you're nice to stare at."

armin froze, and for a moment you wondered if you had been too direct, but that fear was replaced when you saw the familiar redness tint his cheeks as well.

he tried to combat his shyness by going into another topic, and you decided to not tease him further, even though it was so cute to see him get all flustered.

you guys ended up talking for so long that the morning crowd in the café was all gone, the clock reading almost noon. "should we get out of here? you wanna come to mine?" you asked him. "we can watch that movie you were talking about?" you didn't want to end the date, it was going so well.

armin nodded, taking your mug and his to the dirty dishes bin. a few minutes later you both walked outside, the afternoon air warm against your face, and you stood there, his shoulder bumping into yours. when you turned to look at him, he was staring at you looking genuinely nervous. he glanced down at your mouth and you grinned.

"min, you know you can kiss me right?" you asked, giggling.

he continued to stare. "are you sure?"

before he could think himself into a circle, you leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. armin's hand came to settle against your cheek, kissing you like he was terrified of getting it wrong. your hand grabbed his wrist, pulling him a fraction closer.

He takes the bag reluctantly, knowing that it’s going to be his favorite with a bite in it because you get hungry on your way here. “You have to stop coming into my classes unannounced. Last time one of my students asked me if you were my girlfriend.”

“Oh no, that might’ve been terrible for you!” you gasp, putting a hand in your chest pitying him. You get up, circling the table until you’re in front of him. “So, so terrible!” you pout, pressing his chest with two fingers and the back of his knees hit his table. 

“We’re in a class, remember?” he tells you as you rest your arms on his shoulders and his hands hug your waist out of muscle memory. 

“Your class, actually.” You tickle the back of his neck, trying to get him to laugh. “Why the glasses?”

He blinks, like he doesn’t understand you, but then you tap the temple of the glasses. “Oh, that. Yeah, does it make me look smarter?”

“Not really,” you say instantly. “It makes you look like a slut. Look, I drew you with them on.” 

Without breaking your embrace, you grab the notebook filled with sketches of Sanemi in more decent and indecent positions until you reach the last page. You show it to him, a pencil sketch of him looking down at his books, glasses falling from his nose and hair slightly messy. He never understood why you drew him so beautifully, he’s never seen himself like that. 

“Hm, it’s good, I guess,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. 

You tilt your head at him, still pressed close enough that you can feel the way his fingers flex against your waist. “Oh, come on, Sanemi. I spent like twenty minutes on your stupid slutty glasses alone. At least pretend you like it.”

He huffs a laugh,his eyes flick back down to the sketch, thumb brushing lightly over the edge of the page. “You made me look soft. I don’t look soft.”

“You do when you’re focused,” you whisper, letting your fingers trace the line of his jaw just to watch his expression flicker. “Especially with these on. They’re ridiculous, by the way. You don’t need them.”

Sanemi shifts his weight, still backed against the desk, but he doesn’t push you away. Instead his hands slide a little lower, thumbs pressing into your hips. “Maybe I wore them so you’d shut up.”

“Liaaar. You wore them because you knew I’d notice.” You lean in closer, nose almost brushing his. “Admit it. You like when I crash your lectures and draw you like some lovesick art student.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a faint flush creeping up his neck that you pretend not to notice. “You are some lovesick art student. Ten years and you still can’t stay out of my classes.”

“Ten years and you still let me sit in your chair and bring you half-eaten donuts,” you fire back, grinning. Your arms stay looped around his shoulders, playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Face it, Shinazugawa. You’d miss me if I stopped showing up.”

For a second he just looks at you, he always had beautiful eyes that matured over the time together. Then he reaches up, gently tugging one of your hands down so he can press a quick kiss to your knuckles. It’s so casual, so easy, like muscle memory again, but it still sends warmth rushing through you.

“Don’t push it,” he mutters, voice gruff, but his lips twitch like he’s fighting a smile. “And give me the rest of that donut before you eat it all.”

quiet moans slipped from your lips as you felt the bulge beneath his sweatpants rub deliciously against your sensitive bud. your panties were completely soaked, leaving a wet spot on his gray sweatpants.

eager to feel him without any barriers between you, you whined impatiently, “please toji—i need more—” your brows furrowed into a pout.

“you’re not ready.” he muttered.

his scarred lips trailed lower, pressing soft kisses against your collarbones that were quickly driving you insane.

“please! i am! i’m ready, please, just do it already, toji—” you whined, pressing your hands against his shoulders trying to push him away from your neck.

toji let out a heavy sigh, allowing your hands to guide him back. slowly, a small, mischievous smile tugged at his lips as he paused for a moment, jade eyes fixed on yours.

“you’re going to regret those words,” he warned, amusement lacing his voice.

toji straightened up and reached for the hem of his shirt, quickly pulling it over his head before tossing it somewhere across the room.

honestly, you felt yourself drool a little every time you saw him shirtless, showing off all his muscular glory. his shoulders were broad and solid, like stone, with biceps that looked as though they had been sculpted by god himself. and your favorite part: his massive pecs, nearly the size of your head, with soft pinkish nipples.

toji’s body was much bigger than yours. his back could practically cover your entire frame; you felt lucky to have him as a roommate as you shamelessly stared at him.

“you like what you see?” toji teased, a wide grin spreading across his face, his sharp teeth on display.

you felt your face grow warm, flushing red as you forced your eyes away from him.

toji had always found your flustered reactions alluring. he’d be lying if he said he had never noticed how timid you were. how you’d avoid his gaze at all costs whenever he wandered around the apartment shirtless, or how you’d grow especially quiet whenever he brought up anything sexual in conversation. it was clear as day that you were inexperienced, so why not be a good roommate and change that?

“you sure you want this?”

“just hurry up toji” you retorted, visibly annoyed.

sighing, toji yanked his sweatpants down, and you immediately understood what he had meant earlier. you definitely regretted your words.

toji was huge.

not just long—he was thick, too. around nine inches, veiny, and slightly curved upward, with a prominent tip. you gaped at him as his length slapped against his stomach, leaving a damp patch behind.

toji’s cock twitched under your stare.

and your amazement was quickly replaced with panic. how the fuck was that supposed to fit inside you? you could barely take two of your own fingers.

your roommate snorted at your expression, amusement flickering across his face at the sight of your furrowed brows and wide eyes.

“relax, sugar. i’ll go slow, yeah?” he attempted to reassure you.

you swallowed hard.

you watched as his rough hands made their way to your thighs, reaching for the hem of your lacy panties, which were completely soaked.

as he pulled them down, toji’s eyes darkened at the sight of a thin string of slick connecting the fabric to your cunt. letting out a hungry groan, he continued to push the fabric down your legs. you lifted your feet to help him remove them.

toji thought you had the prettiest pussy he had ever seen. he could feel himself practically salivating at the sight of your soaked hole.

your roommate shifted closer before lowering his head and pressing a lingering kiss against your clit.

you mewled at the contact, involuntarily bucking your hips against his lips. toji pulled away, though his gaze remained fixed on you. or her.

“greedy,” he mumbled, his voice low.

straightening up once again, he wrapped a hand around his length, giving it a few slow strokes as he positioned himself between your legs, rubbing against your swollen folds, moving up and down until you were squirming and whining beneath him. “stop teasing…” you mewled.

toji let out a small airy laugh at your eagerness.

gradually, he lined himself up with your slick entrance. he paused before speaking, admiring your shiny pussy. “alright, take a deep breath for me, sweets.”

just as you began drawing air into your lungs, you felt him begin to push inside you. all the air was knocked from your lungs almost immediately. your hands gripped the sheets with all the strength you could muster, your knuckles turning white.

“fuck, toji—” you gasped, the stretch unlike anything you had ever felt before.

“shit, doll… need you to—haah—relax for me,” he said through gritted teeth.

he sank his hips deeper, and you nearly lost it. you could feel every inch and ridge of him, and it was driving you out of your mind.

feeling the slick warmth of you coating him all the way to the base, your breath caught in your throat. instinctively, your legs spread wider to accommodate him, but as he was only halfway in, your lips parted as a loud moan escaped you.

“oh my g-godddd—tojiii—”

“hehe—haah—shit. such a tight fucking pussy,” toji groaned as he buried the rest of himself inside you. “gonna kill me, baby.”

you felt impossibly full with his heavy, hot cock inside your gummy walls. it felt as though your soul was being pulled straight from your body.

toji set a slow pace, doing his best to keep himself under control and resist the urge to just slam his dick inside you until you’re gushing all over him while filling his ears with your beautiful noises. but soon enough that self control vanished.

eagerly, he lifted one of your legs and draped it over his shoulder while pushing the other aside, allowing him to fuck you even deeper, reaching spots that your own fingers could never.

“toji—hah… feels so good—!” you whined, your voice dripping with need.

you could feel him stretching you with every slow roll of his hips, making your eyes threaten to roll back at the sensation.

you watched his cock go in and out of you, already forming a white ring around his thick girth while warmth continued to build low in your stomach.

little by little, you grew more comfortable with the feeling of him, and with that comfort came a growing ache for more.

as though he could read your mind, toji’s pace quickened, pounding into you like his life depended on it. his hips turned sloppy and relentless, slamming into your soaked cunt without giving you any time to adjust, to breathe. he was splitting you apart.

“wait—tojiii—” you sobbed.

his pace turned almost animalistic, rutting into you like he was trying to carve himself into you.

“fuck, sugar… should’ve done this waayyy sooner,” he babbled. “she’s squeezing me in. pretty pussy doesn’t wanna let me go.” his words made you throb, cunt fluttering around his cock.

“oh my—godddd, fuck!—” you couldn’t hold back your moans. at all.

especially when he grabbed both of your legs and pushed them up to your chest.

the position felt completely different—deeper, more intimate, more intense.

you felt his plump tip hit that one spongy spot inside you, and you completely lost it—your jaw dropping as a loud, lewd gasp tore out of you.

“FUCK!”

“heh—feels good baby? yeah, i know” you heard your roommate say, you clenched around him once more, his voice never failed to get you all worked up.

you could feel your body going limp as he blessed you with hit after hit, tears falling uncontrollably down your face as lewd moans escaped your drooling lips.

all you could hear were his grunts so close to your ear and the loud, wet noises coming from your soaked pussy. chills ran down your spine at the feeling of toji’s cock twitching inside you. "gonna cum inside this pretty pussy. you want that, baby?"

"yes!—pleasee—tojiiiii—" you were a babbling mess as his hips slammed unapologetically into you. the loud sounds of skin clapping filled your ears as you felt warm waves spread all over your body.

your hole gushed all over his cock, his thick length completely coated in your juices, just as he wanted. "fuckk yes baby…soak my cock just like that."

your brain felt mushy as you grew closer to your climax, his hips abusing your sweet cunt. "shit...hah...gonna cum—baby—" you heard your roommate mumble as he bottomed out. suddenly, your vision whitened, followed by a hot wave of pleasure washing all over your body. you went rigid, your toes curling and your legs trembling uncontrollably against toji’s shoulders as you squirted all over his crotch. "fuh-uckk..." you mewled, letting out broken sobs.

“haah—baby—gonna—“ he followed right after you, thick, warm ropes of cum painting your gummy walls white while his hips rolled slow, small circles against you.

your legs continued to tremble beneath him until your orgasm fully washed over you, your breathing shifting from rapid to deep as you grew exhausted.

you could feel his body start to melt on top of you, and you two stayed like that for a moment, unmoving, catching your breath.

"shit, sweets. milked the shit outta’ me," he said breathlessly while pulling himself off of you and tucking his now soft cock back into his sweatpants. "how did i do, baby?" toji asked as he fell onto his bed right next to you and pulled you to his chest.

you stretched your aching legs on the mattress, resting your damp forehead on his bare chest as you closed your heavy eyes.

regaining your usual timidity, you quietly responded, "did good, toji..."

he snorted at that.

silence stretched between you as you both felt yourselves getting sleepy. you felt your consciousness escape before quickly snapping out of it.

"wait, you didn't use a condom," you said, alarmed, raising your head to look at him.

jade eyes stared back at yours. "oopsies."

© xosugu. do not plagiarize.

your coupling leaves a damp, sticky puddle spreading under you, yet again forgetting to spread a towel in the rush of ripping each other’s clothes off to fuck like you’re in heat. toji has you splayed on your side with a leg dangling over his shoulder, knelt between your thighs and holding you in a grip that keeps you right where he wants you.

the bed springs of the cheap mattress shift and creak under your shared weight with every thrust, clapping of his pelvis slapping against your ass reverberating loud in the air as he manuevers each inch in and out of your warmth. your skin sticks to his where your bodies tangle and overlaps, nails biting into his fat biceps hard enough to leave your mark, moans leaving you in shaky exhales.

“mmh, ‘ji. right there— right, ooh fuck—”

“yeah? right there?” his eyes drop low, watching his cock disappear into your cunt and pull back out slick and glistening, over and over. “she’s so noisy today. listen to her.” he quiets down and you’re left to listen to the embarrassing wet squelches of the loads he’s already spilled deep being pushed deeper and deeper by his bulbous tip.

if you weren’t as far gone as you currently are, you’d be more on his ass over losing your money, being a kind of shitty boyfriend. too bad you can only think of his perfect mid dick.

your toes curl hard enough to cramp, cunt convulsing around him. big hands find your waist to pull you into his thrusts, no care for how deep that sends him, how full it makes you. he dips to shut you up with a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth, swapping spit, swallowing down grunts and moans while his hips keep their pace. your tits shift and bounce with every thrust, nipples peaked, breaths coming out more paced.

he can see everything perfectly from this angle—the lewd sight of your folds stretched arounds his cock, the slick cream of your shared arousal forming a white ring near his base, that lewd expression he’s not sure you know you’re making.

toji is far from unaffected, hand sliding from your hip to push that lifted leg closer to your chest to open you up, letting his cock pound into you at an impossibly deeper angle. you’re sure you’re drooling, waterline leaking tears as you claw at his shoulders and stumble over praise of how good it feels.

“that’s it, hold onto me.” the new angle has cock probing at that soft spot continuously, thumb working firm circles over clit. he’s fucked you enough times to know your tells, but you’re shaking thighs are enough of a non-verbal cue for him. “you gonna cum?” “m-mhm—I’m c—oh my god—cumming again-” your body can only handle so much pleasure till you’re seizing around him, cunt pulling him deeper in waves as your back arches. your orgasm crests and crashes over you all at once, clawing at his shoulder as you soak his cock for the umpteenth time. “there it is…there ya fuckin’—” he punctuates with a deep thrust that jostles your frame, strained croak punching out of you from somewhere deep, “—go. make a mess, baby.”

he works you through your peak, thumb unrelenting, hips still snapping as you whine and convulse around him. he tips over faster than the previous times — lips pressing against your ankle, balls pulling tight. he finishes with a long, rough moan that sends heat flooding where he’s emptying into you, walls fluttering helplessly around his throbbing length.

his head drops, sweat dampened inky strands falling forward, hips making small involuntary rolls that drags out both of your pleasure. the room falls silent save for your breathing, his grip on your leg slackening to let it lower. you shift just enough to end up on your back with your legs bracketing either side of his hips. he gradually lowers himself down onto you, solid weight of his frame pinning you under him. gentle hands find his back, splaying wide over hard muscles, skimming lightly over scratch marks. he burrows his face deeper into your neck, a low grunt warming your skin. “don’t you go starting stuff you can’t finish.”

his friend, still in you at this point, twitches with renewed interest and you can only huff out an exasperated laugh at him. “i’m literally just touching you.”

"exactly."

“Hi,” he says, smiling kindly. “Welcome. Let me know if you need help finding anything.”

You smile back, leaning against the counter a bit. “Thanks. I’m just browsing for now. This place is adorable. Do you get a lot of tourists in here?”

He nods, pushing his glasses down from the top of his head onto his nose. “Yeah, quite a few. Especially in summer, people come in looking for souvenirs or something light to read by the pool.” He pauses, then adds with a shy little laugh, “Though I always try to convince them to take something better than just a beach read.”

You tilt your head. “Oh? Like what?”

His eyes light up a little. “Depends on what you like. If you want something atmospheric, there’s this Italian author who writes these quiet stories about old families in Tuscany. Or if you’re into history, I just got some new translations of ancient Roman stuff. Super interesting, actually. Did you know the aqueducts they built are still functioning in some places?”

You can’t help grinning. He’s clearly passionate about it. “You sound like you know your stuff. Are you studying literature or something?”

Armin rubs the back of his neck, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “Yeah, actually. I’m doing a program here for a few months. History and literature double major back home.”

“Cute,” you say without thinking, then laugh softly when his eyes widen. “I mean, it’s nice. Most people don’t get that excited about books anymore.”

He smiles, looking down at the counter for a moment, after that, the conversation flows easily. You tell him you’re on your first solo vacation, trying to relax after a rough year. He listens so attentively, nodding along and asking gentle questions.

“What kind of work do you do?” he asks, leaning forward on his elbows.

You explain a bit about your job, keeping it light and he seems genuinely interested. In return he tells you about some of the books he’s been reading lately, a mix of classic philosophy and modern fantasy. “I just finished this one series about explorers in a fictional world. The world-building is insane. I stayed up way too late because I couldn’t stop.”

You laugh. “Total nerd, huh?”

“Just a little,” he says with a sheepish grin. “My friends tease me about it all the time.”

Time passes without you noticing. A couple of customers come and go, but he handles them quickly and comes right back to talk with you. You end up sitting on the little stool by the counter, flipping through books he recommends while he works. He points out passages he loves, reading them out loud in his softest voice, and you find yourself hanging on every word.

Eventually the clock on the wall hits closing time. He flips the sign on the door and lets out a small sigh. “Shift’s over. I didn’t mean to keep you here so long, sorry if I talked your ear off.”

“You didn’t,” you say honestly. “I had fun.”

He hesitates, fiddling with his fingers as his cheeks go a little pink again. “Um… this might be forward, but would you… maybe want to grab a drink? There’s a nice little place just around the corner. They do really good spritz. If you’re not busy, I mean. No pressure at all.”

You smile, feeling a warm flutter in your chest at how sweetly awkward he looks asking. “I’d love that, Armin.”

His face brightens instantly. “Really? Okay, cool. Let me just lock up.”

As you step back out into the golden evening light together, he walks beside you, already starting to ask what kind of drinks you usually like. The conversation picks up right where it left off and you think this might be the best decision you’ve made all trip.

a/n: i love a meet cute omg and armin is such a sweetheart to write i love him<33 this was for my girlie @antholoji i hope you liked it