#riize tw

you jumped slightly, your head snapping up. anton was standing at the end of the row of bookshelves, his tall, lanky frame relaxed as he leaned against the metal casing.

he was wearing a washed-out, oversized black hoodie that practically swallowed his hands, his messy dark hair falling right into his eyes. he looked exactly like he always did—the quiet, soft-spoken music major who had randomly sat next to you in the dining hall three months ago and awkwardly struck up a conversation about playlist curation.

since then, he’d become your shadow. your sweet, harmless best friend who always happened to be walking in the same direction as you, always knew exactly what kind of coffee you liked, and always offered to walk you back to your dorm late at night.

"anton, oh my god, you scared me" you breathed, letting out a shaky laugh as you pressed a hand to your chest. "what are you even doing down here? i thought you went back to the dorms hours ago."

he didn't answer right away. he walked over, his movements slow, almost heavy, before he slipped into the plastic chair right next to yours. the proximity was instant. anton was big—much bigger than his shy demeanor let on—and when he sat next to you, his broad shoulders completely blocked out the rest of the dim basement row.

"i saw your laptop was still active on our shared drive" anton murmured, his voice that low, raspy cadence that always sounded like he’d just woken up. he tilted his head, his dark eyes fixed on your face, tracking the way your eyelashes fluttered. "and i knew you hadn't walked home yet. it's dangerous for you to be out here alone. you're too careless."

"i'm fine, anton, it's just campus" you smiled, turning back to your laptop.

you didn't see the way his expression completely shifted the second your back was turned. the soft, gentle "best friend" smile vanished, replaced by an intense, heavy stare that dark-eyed and predatory.

anton hadn't just "happened" to see your laptop active. he had a tracking app synced to your student login. he knew exactly which desk you sat at every tuesday and thursday.

he knew the exact route you took through the quad, the brand of laundry detergent you used because he lingered a second too long whenever he hugged you goodbye, and he had a hidden folder on his hard drive filled with candid photos he’d taken of you when you weren't looking—laughing in class, biting the end of your pen while studying, walking in the rain.

he had orchestrated the entire friendship. the shy, awkward boy routine was the only way to get inside your perimeter without scaring you off. he needed to be close enough to touch you, to smell you, to listen to the sweet, naive way you complained about your day while completely oblivious to the fact that he was drowning in a sickening, dark obsession with you.

"you look tired" anton whispered, his hand slowly coming up to rest on the back of your chair. his long fingers brushed against a stray strand of your hair, the touch so light it was almost accidental. "your skin is all flushed. are you warm?"

"a little" you muttered, shifting slightly. the air in the basement felt suddenly thick, almost suffocating. "the heating down here is weird."

"let me help" he said softly.

before you could say anything, anton reached over. his large, warm hands caught the hem of your oversized crewneck sweater. he didn't wait for permission; he just pulled it up and over your head in one smooth, practiced motion, leaving you sitting there in just your thin, ribbed tank top. the cool air hit your bare arms, making your nipples instantly harden against the thin cotton of your bra underneath.

your breath hitched. anton didn't look away. his eyes dropped directly to your chest, his gaze heavy and completely unbothered by the fact that he was staring. the shy nerd act was completely slipping, a dark, perverted hunger taking its place.

"anton..." you murmured, your heart suddenly hammering against your ribs. the way he was looking at you didn't feel like a friend at all. it felt dangerous. "what are you doing?"

"you're so pretty" he choked out, his voice dropping into a rough, demanding register you’d never heard from him before. he didn't give you space to think. he reached out, his long, pale fingers wrapping firmly around your jaw, his thumb digging into your cheekbone to force your head back.

"you have no idea how long i've been sitting next to you, watching you breathe, watching your mouth move, just waiting for you to be completely alone with me."

"wait— anton, stop, you're hurting me a little—" you gasped, your hands flying up to grip his thick wrists. you tried to pull away, but he didn't budge an inch. his grip was like iron, his tall body leaning over you until you were pinned flat against the plastic back of the library chair.

"i'm not going to hurt you, sweetgirl" he murmured, his face inches from yours. through the dark fringe of his hair, his eyes were completely blown out, black and wild with obsession.

"but you've been driving me crazy for months. you think it was an accident that i sat next to you that day? you think it's a coincidence that i know exactly when you're sad, or what you want to eat? i know everything about you. i watch you constantly."

your brain scrambled, a sudden chill running down your spine as his words registered. he was watching you. the late-night texts, the accidental run-ins—it hadn't been luck. he was stalking you.

"you're crazy" you whimpered, a tear of pure overstimulation and panic slipping down your cheek. "let me go, anton, please—"

"shh" he hissed softly, leaning down to lick the tear right off your skin, his tongue hot and wet against your cheek before his mouth moved to your ear. he bit the soft lobe, hard enough to make you arch your back with a sharp cry. "don't say that. i'm your best friend, remember? i'm the only one who takes care of you. and right now, i'm going to take care of how wet you are."

before you could scream, his free hand slid down your stomach, his large palm heavy and unyielding as it shoved straight down the waistband of your sweatpants. his fingers ripped your underwear aside, his thick middle finger driving deep inside your damp center without a single bit of preparation.

a choked-out scream ripped from your throat, but anton instantly slammed his mouth over yours, cutting off the sound. the kiss was sloppy, violent, and utterly dominating, his tongue invading your mouth, tasting like the mints he always chewed. down below, his fingers were moving in a brutal, fast rhythm, bottoming out against your cervix over and over until your legs were shaking uncontrollably.

"mmph—!" you thrashed against him, your fists uselessly beating against his broad chest, but the more you fought, the harder he fucked you with his hand, his thumb brutally grinding against your clit until your brain completely short-circuited.

he broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips as he panted heavily, his face flushed and sweating.

"look at you" he growled, watching your eyes roll back as your walls clenched frantically around his fingers. "you're so tight. you're soaking wet for your stalker, aren't you? you love how dirty i am. you love that i know exactly how to break you."

"no— stop— tony, please, it's too much—" you sobbed, your hips bucking off the chair involuntarily as a massive, shattering climax tore through you.

anton let out a low, guttural growl at the feeling of your walls crushing his hand. he pulled his wet fingers out with a loud, slick sound and immediately stood up. he didn't even bother to take his pants off the right way—he just unzipped his sweats, pulling his thick, pulsing shaft free. it was covered in pre-cum, throbbing angrily in the dim light of the basement.

he grabbed your hips, sitting you easily on top of the table before dragging your body forward until your ass was at the very edge of the table, your legs forced wide open over his broad shoulders.

"look at me" he commanded, his voice vibrating in your chest. "i want you to see exactly who's taking this from you. your sweet little friend."

he didn't give you another second to breathe. anton leaned all his weight forward and slammed his entire length inside you in one blunt, unyielding motion.

the massive invasion made your head snap back, a broken, jagged shriek echoing through the empty library stacks as his thick cock bottomed out against your womb. the friction was intense, borderline painful, but as he immediately started pounding into you in a heavy, punishing rhythm, the pain quickly melted into an overwhelming, blinding heat.

"fuck! you're so small" anton choked out, his hands gripping your hips so tightly his fingers left immediate red marks on your skin. his chest was heaving, his pelvis slapping violently against yours with a wet, heavy sound.

"i'm going to fill you up so deep you're never going to forget what i look like. you're mine now. i'm never letting you walk away from me."

you were a complete mess beneath him, crying, shaking, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as he completely ruined you.

he kept talking dirty, his voice sweet but his actions entirely predatory, telling you how he was going to walk you home after this and lock the door behind him, how he was going to watch you sleep every single night.

"cum for me again" he groaned, his pace becoming frantic, his thrusts shallower but faster as he reached his limit.

"clench around me, baby. show me how good you take your friend's cock."

you screamed, your body stiffening as a second, even more violent orgasm locked your muscles. the extreme pressure broke anton completely. he let out a loud, animalistic moan, burying his face in your neck as he delivered one final, deepest thrust, holding himself inside you as he came hard. you felt every single hot, thick pulse of his semen pumping deep into your core, overflowing until it was dripping down the plastic chair.

he stayed there for a long time, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his breath ragged as he slowly came down from the high.

finally, he pulled out with a wet pop. anton quietly zipped his pants, his expression instantly shifting back to that soft, gentle calmness. he reached over, grabbed your sweater from the floor, and gently shook the dust off it before wrapping it carefully around your shivering shoulders.