NSFW - drabble

You stagger down the streets, ignorant of the glances men are giving you. Anyone with eyes can see you're wasted. You're a walking target, babe.

You're not aware of a lot of things. Where were you going? You didn't know, now you find yourself out of the clubbing district. The streets aren't as bright as they used to be, just buildings upon buildings with their lights out.

You were also not aware of the black car that's been trailing you for at least ten minutes or more - headlights off, of course.

Leon had been 'in the area.' Oh, who are we kidding? He's following you again, just like he does every night you go out with your friends.

You finally notice him as he honks. "Asshole." You spit out, quickly stopping to let the car pass.

It doesn't, instead the Porsche's driverside window rolls down to reveal your stalker. "Harsh, but okay."

"Leon! Oh, baby I am so happy to see you." You take back your curse from earlier, feeling relieved to see his face. He always comes to your rescue! You see him as a guardian angel, still unaware of his repeated stalking. It isn't fate, this shit is on purpose. Calculated. Practiced.

You almost trip on the way to the window. Leaning into the opening, you give your older boyfriend a clear view of your cleavage. (With the way the shirt splits, it's more than just cleavage. It's a miracle your nipples are still covered, saving you some decency in your drunken state.)

You look like a hooker trying to pick up a customer - have some class.

He gives you a disarming smile, but his words are anything but. "Get in the fucking car. Now."

You don't remember fumbling to the passenger seat, but you sure can hear the scolding you're getting.

"I'm way too old for this shit. Picking you up, drunk off your ass in-" He inhales sharply, the hand on your thigh starting to grip you harder. "In god knows where... wearing that."

You don't hate his scoldings. Hell, you'd be lying if it didn't make you a little hot. You've got issues, but who doesn't?

"M'sorry." You slur your words, pulling up your shirt self-consciously.

"Fuck that, you're ready to show your body for everyone at that club, but now..." Leon removes the hand from your thigh and tugs down your shirt, ripping the cheap fabric down the middle. You're exposed, leaving you in that tight skirt and your plunging bra.

You yelp, too shocked by his actions to ask how he knew you were at a club. He was working today, you didn't have a chance to tell him your plans.

"Why don't you take off that bra, angel." The older man eyes you from the car mirror. You felt small, not all in the moment mentally. Like you've got yourself in big trouble, that tightness in your chest when you'd walk to the principal's office.

Your hands find your head, the buzz from the alcohol becoming too much. You're going to get carsick, fast.

Like Leon could give a fuck right now. He doesn't ask you a second time, taking initative to flick the front closure of your bra open. He takes a nipple and tugs.

It isn't until you threaten to throw up all over his car's expensive interior that Leon finds a place to pull over. It was some backroad shoulder, looks right out of a horror movie. You wouldn't feel safe if it wasn't for your boyfriend - ironically.

Such a nice car parked in a place like this. No matter, Leon can handle it if some shady individuals dare to try him right now. He wouldn't be opposed to blowing someone's brains out for intruding on you two.

You're both in the back seat, but this is Leon Kennedy we're dealing with - he's got a gun under the seat. Loaded, safety off. The thought stirs another fucked up fantasy in his mind, but he puts a pin in it for now. Wait, when did you two get in the back? This is bad, your memories are blending together.

You're in Leon's lap now, facing him. You've long lost your bra and what was left of your shirt. You wince at the feeling of his gloved hands on your thighs. Looks like you're down to your panties.

Your head... your head. It's reeling. It's as if someone hit you square between the eyes. Leon mumbles something along the lines of 'punishment fitting the crime.' You lean against the back of the driver's seat.

"Stay with me, angel." Leon won't let you sleep. He pinches your nipple harshly as he did earlier, turning his hand slightly to the left. You hiss as the pleasure stings into familiar pain. You cry out, you're awake.

"Awake.." You pant, struggling to remain conscious.

Your mind is clouded over, drunk. Leon's painfully hard in his pants at the scene, his pretty little thing all malleable and helpless. He just had to come rescue you. You never know what kind of sick perverts are out there. (Or in this car with you.)

"Anyone could have come and picked you right off the curb." Leon's lecturing you again, the grip on your plush thighs becomes painful. You'll see bruises tomorrow - damn, he was strong for his age. "Would you like some random man groping you like this? Huh?"

You want to argue with him, to tell him that you're more careful than that - responsible. Truth is, if Leon hadn't been threatening the other man following you? You'd be in that exact situation. To think of it, you did hear a large 'thud' at some point in your drunken stroll.

Your lover makes quick work of your panties, you think you see him stuff them in his jacket.

He doesn't care to take off his gloves, shoving two covered fingers up your cunt. The stretch is instant, painful - it burns. You almost forgot this was a punishment. You try to squirm out of his iron grip, to no avail.

"Nuh.. nah.. hurts." You drool out your words, "Stah..."

Your protests are lost on the older man. Even as you stand - as far as you can while still straddling him - he keeps up the brutal pace.

"You're going to learn this lesson, sober or not. That's not my fucking problem you drank too much." Leon's speaking at you, knowing you're too far gone to be spoken to.

Sobbing, you're not going anywhere. You're trapped in this earned hell. You're bracing yourself against the ceiling of the luxury car, tears falling down onto your lover's lap. Still glad to see him?

His free hand wipes the tears from your face, smudging your makeup in the process. The leather glove stinks of - what you didn't realize at the time - gunshot residue. Leon dons a shit-eating grin as he wipes the mess around your face.

You hate it when he does that. You'd much rather have the sweet, love-making Leon you've come accustomed to.

"Yucky.. yucky!" You try to shut your mouth as your lover attempts to shove his tear and makeup-stained gloved fingers down your throat. You didn't stand a chance against him. Leon gets his way and presses his middle finger down on the middle of your tongue, his index forming a hook to keep your mouth wide open for him. The dubious amount of drinks you had tonight didn't help your gag reflex either. He pulls back right before you'd vomit on him.

You lose your grip on reality as the breath floods back into your lungs. That tightness in your core, right above your clit. You're gonna squirt from this fucked up punishment. Thankfully, you're insanely wet for your older lover, so the gloves don't hurt as much as they did at the start. Your pussy tightens around Leon's fingers.

"Luh.. love you! I'm so sorrysorrysorry..." You gave up running a while ago. You're limp, supported by the man responsible for your rescue and ruin. You keep begging for forgiveness as you squirt all over Leon, the orgasm he forced upon you sending shockwaves through your body.

"I love you too, baby." He keeps thrusting his large fingers in and out, in and out, taking breaks to pull out so you can squirt to your fullest. "I love you so much that I came all the way out here to get your ass off of these streets - punish you so you can make a better fucking choice next time." See, he really did care! If you were gonna get snatched by a psychopath tonight, aren't you glad it's him?

────୨ৎ────

You passed the fuck out right after that orgasm. Leon held you close, rocking you back and forth in his arms. You'd pass in and out of reality, hearing his loving words - happy to know he didn't mean any of the harsh words he'd be yelling at you earlier.

"You did so good for me, sweet love." The older man's voice becomes soft, encompassing you. He hums a tune you hardly recognize as you drift to sleep in his arms, ruined and fucked out.

You wouldn't remember anything past your climax the next morning, but Leon's dedicated to aftercare no matter. You were wrapped in your favorite blanket from home before being carefully tucked in the passenger seat. He'd click the seatbelt over your sleeping frame, afraid any more rough treatment would shatter you for good.

Leon S. Kennedy was your guardian angel, in his own fucked up way - and you wouldn't have it any other way. You smile in your sleep, dreaming of him even now.

he doesn't undress, doesn't shower, doesn't even step out his boots when he makes heavy steps towards your bedroom. even with all the exhaustion flowing through his body, he knows what he needs. he needs his...sister.

licking his lips, he pulls the covers off your body, a sheer black nightgown riding up your soft thighs. as mentioned, Pope never let you know when he came home. so you, being the doll you are, always make the effort to lay to rest in something pretty, something easy, something teasing.

he bites his lip, hands running up your unconscious legs as he moves you onto your back, his own knees denting the mattress as he leans over the side of you. in the morning, you'll scold him about the marks they leave on your duvet. but for now, you're at his dismay.

every time he greets you like this, you're always ready for him. your arousal seeping onto the back of your thighs, as you don't wear underwear when he leaves. clean, smooth, buttery with your brown sugar lotion coating your body. he inhales deep, hunched over your body as he goes from your hair, down your back, to your ass. you're all mine, he thinks.

he peels off his leather jacket, hands hurriedly sliding off his belt as his dick strains against the harsh denim. he watches your face stir ever so slightly as he runs his knuckles against your soft cheek, "such a pretty lil girl.." he's whispers, his thumb gliding over your plush lip, pressing down on it to watch it squish against his digit.

"missed your throat, sweetie..s'all i could think about.." your mouth opens around him as he slides his thumb past your teeth slowly, his breath picking up as he watches himself intrude you. "you been lettin' anyone use this mouth, baby? she still reserved for your big brother? guess we'll find out."

he's palming himself through his cotton boxers, eyes locked on how you take his thumb deeper into your mouth. he feels you come into consciousness from the inside—your tongue twitching against him as he presses down, curving along it as your lips began to register the unfamiliar thing.

your lashes flutter, he feels your breath pick up against his hand, and its not long until your little hand raises in its sleepy state. you let out a groggy whine, grabbing onto his forehead as you blink awake, Andrew's breath hitching when you stare up at him with big, sleepy eyes. opening your mouth around his thumb, you let it rest on your lips. "..A-Andy..?" you mewl, squinting slighlty to see his pretty face.

with your head angled up he tucks a stray hair behind your ear, his spit covered thumb circling your plump lips. "sorry to wake you bub...just got home.." you hear that word—no that name, that tone of voice. and it clicks in your mind what he wants, even through your tired body.

its what he usually did when he came home from a job. sometimes he wanted to be dad. but more times than none, he was your big brother, not your boyfriend. not in the scene, at least. "what..what're you doin'..?" you watch him bite down on his lip when you give into his play, the hand that's not holding his forearm rests on his thigh, right under where the skin flexes out his boxers.

"don't worry honey. just open your mouth, okay? your big brother had a stressful fuckin' day. gonna help me out?" you watch with big eyes as he gets his pants down to his knees. you push weakly at his thighs, "andy...m'tired.." you whine, squeaking when he grabs your chin roughly to pull you closer.

"I know i know,,I'll be quick just-just open your mouth.." he slaps at your cheek, and you whimper as you stick out your tongue. he taps his tip along it roughly,a raspy hum exiting his mouth before fisting at your hair, easing his cock in your mouth. your eyes roll back the deeper he goes, lip stretching around his fat dick.

from above you, Andrew let's out a long groan, head thrown back slighlty, eyes not leaving the sight of you. "there you go bubby..alll the way back—nuh-uh," he slaps at your cheek again when you gag slightly, tears brimming your lashline, "take it, don't push me. you can do it." he grunts, keeping your head down.

your hands find his thighs, holding yourself steady as he meets your face with his thrusts. you whine and moan around him, lifting your tongue to glide along the underside of his cock, the action making him groan louder. "y'so fucking good baby, Jesus christ.." his hand holds the underside of your jaw, angling your head up as he speeds up his hips, his firey pubes tickling your lips.

you gag with each hit of the back of your throat, tears running down your cheeks now, and he pulls at your hair harder. "fuck bubby, fuck y-oh my god you're so good, takin' that shit huh?" he's getting cocky, your cheeks burning after each impact he sends through you, little sobs humming around his dick.

"you just take it n take it for me every time, such a good Lil sister.." your hands rake up his thighs, bunching his shirt above his abs as he slams his dick down your throat, pornographic gags being heard under his slew of girly sounding moans. "yeah baby, yeah, doin' so fuckin good, m-fuuuck m'almost done, just a lil longer okay?"

his eyes roll back as he hunches over your body, knees pressing deeper into the mattress, your neck beginning to strain from how he forces your head back. your thighs rub together under your gown, arousal pooling onto your thighs the louder he gets, using your throat to reach his release.

as your eyes fog with tears you watch his stomach spasm, abs tightening with each heavy breath he takes, your hands sliding from how tired you are. "bubby m'gonna cum, gonna cum down your fucking throat oh my fffucking god," he moans, brows furrowed as he looks down into your eyes that roll back with each jittery, hurried thrust.

his moans come out raspier, whinier as he reaches his climax, his jaw slack before he squeezes his eyes shut, hips stuttering to a stop as he paints the walls of your throat, holding your head down harder, letting it fill up your mouth before he slowly pulls out, still holding the underside of your chin.

had he not caught your body, you would've fallen face first into his pubes, your eyes shut with tears coating your lashes. as he huffs and puffs, he let's you calm yourself, stroking your wet cheek as he bends down to your level. "show me you swallowed." he rasps, and you shoot up, sticking your tongue out to show your good work. he bites his lip in a smirk, "that's me good girl." he kisses your stained cheek, smiling at the pleased sound you make as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"did so good, baby. you ok?" he whsiperd as you both come down from your scene, "tired..missed you..m'so wet for you.." you mumble into his ear, youre cheek to cheek with each other as he lays you ln your back. he dips his hand between your legs, almost a little astonished at how fucking soaked you were.

every inch of you on show, your body that's been seen by countless pervs online, but now with your sweet little face on show too. there's new additions since you stopped showing off--matching nipple piercings, a tattoo just above your cunt, things you'd planned months ago when you'd settled on this idea. nik would be the first to see them, then your dad and the whole wide web.

"look right at camera, malyshka." nik coos, oh so sweetly but with a sick smirk, like he hasn't just skull fucked you within a hairs breadth of passing out choked on his cock. like your face isn't covered in globs of your own drool, his spit and your running mascara. like he hasn't plastered your driving licence to your forehead just like you asked.

"yes, uncle. papochka."

you blink up through tear-stained lashes, expression the very picture of innocence as you tongue at your uncle's cock and connect with the lens like you were made for this. maybe you were, having been groomed by all the hardcore porn you've watched, by the men who molded you in their image, by your loving, perverted uncle who encouraged every step of your little plan. 

"good girl. they're gonna love you."  he whispers before plunging deep inside until his cockhead forces open your throat. "take it all, gag on it, that's it." his encouragement is lovely, something that's been so familiar for so long you obey without question.

his spare hand cradles the back of your head, not needing to coax you down to the root because youre already raping your own throat on his cock, depriving yourself of oxygen because you know his pleasure is more important. you delight in the way his fat hairy stomach buries you into his musk, the dichotomy of your smooth young body with his older one.

it's perfect, euphoric, rational thought pushed out of you brain along with the ability to breathe, inhibitions leaking out of your cunt down your leg.

this is what you'd dreamed of all along, doing something that would finally get your daddy's attention, something that might finally get him to act. 

after all, surely he won't sit idle as his only daughter's sex tape is spread round the base, round the world, her being subjugated to the most depraved acts by a man he trusted, all while his surname is right there in print, tying the two of them together forever. 

you'd be nothing more than a porn fuck toy for sick misogynist men the world over, no one would look at you or him the same way. 

finally, he'll act, and show he cares.  

"pretty little price girl." 

the words just about reach your ears just as your vision goes fuzzy, and you tap on nik's thigh for release. he takes far longer than he should to relent from bullying his cock further down your throat. 

you're coughing and sputtering, desperate for air and yet riding the high, aching and throbbing and barely recovering--but nik knows your limits better than you do, he's smart, a man, so many years your senior and wiser still. 

so as you gasp just for the chance to breathe, he lines himself up and lets go--warm piss running over your pretty little face, gushing into your gaping mouth, dripping down to your tits and the jacket with captain price sown on the breast. 

"such a mess for your uncle nik." he barks a laugh, one that makes your clit throb. "make your smart face for your dad, hmm, just like I showed you?" 

dex had his issues and you were aware of that. there was many of nights where he would sob into your chest, begging you never to leave him and you held him through it all.

when you found out he was the masked assassin known as 'bullseye' you thought nothing of it. sure, killing is wrong, but you didn't have any plans on leaving him ever. you loved him for who he is and if that includes 'bullseye', you were ready to adapt.

however, he did not hold the same sentiment that you did.

"you were not supposed to find out about this," he's pacing and fiddling with his fingers, shirt wrinkled and sweat beading on his forehead. there's a vein popping in his neck, the familiar visual cue of his anxiety. "dex, i don't care about it, i just want you to know i'm here for you." you try to explain yourself for what seems to be the hundredth time, to no avail he continues not to listen to you. he is thoroughly convinced you are going to leave him.

"you're just saying that, i know you are." his footsteps have stopped and he's now facing you, eyes glossy and voice wobbly. you can't help the pang in your heart when he says that because you know he means what he's saying. he's spiraling for no reason, and slowly your attempts to aid him are making him lose it more. you are powerless in this situation.

***

"that's really the last thing you can remember?" he knows the answer yet continues to ask. he's looming over you, your hands bound behind your back rendering you completely helpless. "you should know i'm not going to hurt you and i don't plan on it. i just needed to sedate you, i was scared you were going to run from me." he sounds like his throat has wires around it. choking out every little word like he's going to cry at his next breath.

it's suffocating him to do this to you, or at least that's what he's trying to sell to you.

that's when the anger set in. your eyebrows furrowed and your survival instincts went out the window. "excuse me? you aren't gonna hurt me? oh, isn't it my lucky fucking day." you spat, shaking your head in disapproval at him as you try to wriggle your way out of the tight restraints around your wrists. he watched intently, lips pursed as if he was thinking of what to say or do next.

"baby please, i would never hurt you, don't be mean" he pleads as he kneels to your level, had reaching to card through your hair. you try to pull away at the attention but all he does is hold you in place. "you know i can't lose you, please don't take this personally" every word he says is making your heart drop into your stomach, tears welling up in your eyes and your mouth unable to open and form words.

on one hand he was right, he would never hurt you and a part of you, even in this situation, knew he wouldn't hurt you physically. it conflicted with any reasonable thought, because on another hand he is capable of this, so he is capable of killing you and getting away with it. the thought of that alone made adrenaline shoot through you like heroine in your veins and a sob choke through your mouth.

he was quick to wipe your rapidly streaming tears, shushing you as you sobbed and coughed. "shh, 's gonna be okay, i got'ya. not ever gonna let you leave my side." the words are meant to soothe, but they cut through your skin and only make the sobs worse. the man who was meant to protect you from all evil, the man who was meant to stay by your side and hold you through it all, the man you loved with no conviction was the same man to tie you up inside of your shared apartment off of the sole fear of you leaving him. the same man who was holding you while you sobbed, unable to move on your own.

a sick part of you felt cared for and it made you disgusted. you pushed the feeling away with your body and soul, sobbing into him as he held you like nothing has changed.

except everything has changed and you seemed to be the only one out of you two to understand that.

you were a normal person who lived a normal life with who you thought was a normal boyfriend. now, not only is he now known as an assassin named bullseye, but he's holding you in contempt based off of a feeling. no matter how many times you replay that fact in your brain it's never something you get used to. as you sit with yourself, the man before you seeming to be busy as his head is in the crook of your neck, strong arms holding you close to him while he rocks you back and forth. its uncomfortable and strange and you're cold. you want him to stop, you want it to go back to the way it was before all of this.

"i need... i need a sweater, dex." you speak for the first time in what seems to be hours for dex but only minutes in reality. your voice is broken from all the crying and it comes out mumbled but dex understands you regardless of it all. he nods as he gets you his black fbi quarter zip, bringing it above your head and taking your hair out of the fabric as to not have it get stuck or feel uncomfortable on your skin.

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.