Incel!Sam Monroe | Layout.
โ Incel!Sam Monroe x Fem!Reader
โ CW: 18+ content, unhealthy relationships, incel lexicon, (fictional) misogyny, hateful commentary, masturbation.
His fingers moved furiously across the keyboard, making hisโ already rattling desk sway in a finite back and forth motion, a vivid sound, proof of the frustration that ran hot through his veins.
"Stupid... fucking... bitch," He spat between clenched teeth, lighting up the cigarette with a pale hand, fingerpads almost worn from flicking the lighter one too many times. "Thinks everyone will believe her bluepill fantasy. Think again."
The cigarrete had the effect of molten lava on a can of beans; it burned, it consumed, and momentarily, it pushed Sam's thoughts away, giving his brain a much needed respite from the constant self loathing and hatredโ but, per usual, it lasted a few seconds, before everything came crashing back down, although it never truly left.
Scrolling down his beloved forums, he read, those blue eyes scanning the worldโ his worldโ of other people who understood. People who could sympathize with him in a world where he was the "weird" one.
Yet, just like when one chases the problems away with posts and poor excuses for coping, your face flashed back in.
He couldn't let that happen.
His index finger hit enter quite loudly, loud enough that it seemed to overshadow his speakers, making Bathory sound almost comical. With a scoff, he read his own comment: "I know bro, AWALT. I get it."
Did he? Did he really get it?
What would his little online peers think of him if they could see him sneaking a hand underneath his stained boxers as he scrolls down your Instagram page?
Sam's wrist moves up and down, slowly at first, then, as his anger spikes up, his speed does tooโ back hunched, tongue running over his labret piercing, soft grunts and panting falling from his chapped lips as he pictured itโ well, all. Pinning you down, kissing you all over, his hands around your neck, his tongue between your thighs evenโ outrageous, filthy, embarrasing.
"Fuckingโ fucking foid, can'tโ can't even... use her brain, just herโ tits," Sam curses, chewing on his bottom lip, before his thumb rolls down the scroller wheel, finding what he refuses to acknowledge is his favorite picture of youโ smiling in the middle of a damn college party he refused to show his face at because... "Fucking hell!"
With violent motions, he wipes his hand down with a ripped Kleenex, panting, cursing, boiling alive.
