do you write smut? if yes, then please can you write some chatpata smut with rehman x reader on their wedding night? thank you and i loveeee your works so much 🥰💖
Wedding Night | Rehman Dakait
Disclaimer: This fic is in no way related to the actual Rehman Dakait. This is simply for Akshaye Khanna's potrayal of the same, in the film Dhurandhar.
I do not condone the actual person's actions in any way.
Summary: Rehman worships you on your wedding night.
aaaah i haven't written smut ever (okay maybe that one marc spector one but it's been so long!) and i haven't written smut for a bollywood film ever. so pls be kind asdgfjgk
Warnings: smut! 18+ only pls, making out, p in v sex, unprotected sex, reader has praise kink
- images from pinterest -
Laughter echoes down the hall as your arms support yourself against Rehman, your husband, as he carried you towards his bedroom. The vermilion lehenga sways as he enters the bedroom, softly letting you down before he closes the doors, with a resounding click as the lock falls into place.
Rehman does not speak immediately. Instead, he stands there for a second longer than necessary, shoulders heavy with the residue of the day, the rituals, the guests, eyes finding you like a compass needle snapping into place. His eyes travel along your body, full of reverence, as if he can't believe such beauty can ever even exist.
His hands come to rest at your waist, not demanding, not urgent, just grounding, thumbs brushing slow arcs as if reminding himself you are real, that this is where he is meant to be. He exhales against your hair.
The gold bangles around your wrists jingle as they cup his face. He looks at you so lovingly, as if you're a delicate flower in his world of madness.
"We're finally married!", you breathe out, a warm smile gracing your face.
Looking at you, Rehman can't even fathom what he has done to deserve you, his apsara.
“You have no idea,” he murmurs, voice low and unguarded, “how long I have waited to get out of there.”
You turn your head towards him slightly, just enough to look at him, and the expression on his face makes your breath hitch—not hunger exactly, but something deeper, steadier, almost reverent. This is not a man taking. This is a man offering himself entirely. Totally devoted to you.
He lowers his forehead to yours, eyes closing, as though the simple act of being this close is enough to quiet something restless inside him. His hands move slowly, deliberately, tracing familiar paths, lingering like he has all the time in the world and intends to use every second of it on you.
"My wife. My love." Each declaration is met with a soft kiss, to your cheek and then your forehead.
"Meri jaan"', he murmured, his voice low, thumb tracing the fullness of your lower lip with a tenderness that fed the fire smoldering in him, and you felt your body respond instinctively, a warmth blooming low in your belly as his touch ignited sparks along your nerves.
Leaning down, he captured your lips in a kiss that started soft. There is no rush, no urgency to consume. Just warmth, the quiet promise of attention undivided. His mouth lingers like he is learning you again, like this is a ritual, and when he pulls back, it is only to press kisses along your jaw, your temple, your neck.
His hands slide up your arms, thumbs smoothing over skin with a tenderness that feels almost dangerous in its intimacy. He kisses your knuckles, your wrist, your palm—gestures so deliberate they make your chest ache more than anything.
He takes in the smell of your mehendi laden palms and presses it onto his chest, his heart drumming against his it.
"You feel that? It belongs to you, my dear. I belong to you."
There is something deeply disarming about the way he looks at you now, eyes dark but gentle, filled not with need alone but gratitude. As if loving you is not something he is entitled to, but something he is endlessly thankful for.
You tug him closer without thinking, and he responds immediately, like he has been waiting for permission, his arms folding around you fully now, holding you flush against him. He hums softly, satisfied, his mouth finding yours again, deeper this time, his thumb brushing your cheek.
You come apart, breathless and slightly step back, looking at him properly in the dim lit lights of the room.
He was a vision of restrained power, his traditional sherwani unbuttoned just enough to hint at the sculpted chest beneath, the fabric clinging to his muscular form. You smile up at him and start to remove your heavy ornaments but he stops you.
“Let me take care of you tonight,” he murmurs. He guides you to the seat by the vanity and helps you remove your bangles first. He kisses your knuckles as he delicately removes each piece, placing them carefully onto the stand. Once they are removed, he comes around behind you and slowly starts to remove the intricate design in your hair held together by numerous pins.
He takes out the jasmine flowers from your hair and ties it around his wrist, before turning his attention back to you. His fingers brush against your skin as he removes the heavy jhumkas, sending a shiver down your spine. Rehman smirks at your reaction, clearly enjoying you struggle to maintain composure.
"Everything alright, meri jaan?", he whispers against your ear, the hot breath causing the hair on the nape of your neck to stand up.
You nod barely, eyes closed as you felt the heat pool between your thighs at the gesture, before he tuts loudly.
"Use your words, sweet girl"
"Y-Yes Rehman. Everything's fine", you manage to breathe out shakily.
Rehman simply smirks, "Oh is everything just fine? Then I think there should be no problem when I do this."
You let out a moan as he dips his head against your neck, his tongue traceing a line from your neck to the back of your ear, stopping only to nib at your earlobe. The voice that leave you is a mix of a moan and gasp and you feel Rehman smile against your skin.
You turn then, smashing your lips onto his, hands, trembling slightly with anticipation, rose to his chest, fingers splaying over the warm fabric of his sherwani as you pushed it open further, revealing the taut planes of his abdomen dusted with dark hair that trailed downward temptingly. He groaned softly into your mouth at the contact, the sound sending a thrill straight to your core where a delicious ache began to build.
Breaking the kiss only to trail his lips along the column of your throat, nipping gently at the sensitive skin there while his hands worked at the intricate clasps of your blouse, he whispered praises against your pulse point that made your heart stutter.
As the blouse fell away, exposing the lace of your undergarments to the cool air of the room, his breath hitched audibly, his eyes darkening with desire as he took in the sight of your breasts straining against the delicate fabric, nipples hardening under his gaze alone. He cupped them roughly, thumbs circling the peaks through the lace in slow, teasing circles that drew a gasp from your lips, your back arching instinctively to press into his touch, and he smiled against your skin, a predatory curve that promised he would savor every inch of you before the night was through.
The skirt of your lehenga was next to succumb to his determination, his fingers deftly untying the strings and peeling the layers away with devout reverence, revealing your bare skin inch by inch until you stood before him in nothing but the thin barrier of your panties, the dampness between your legs a testament to how thoroughly he had already unraveled you.
Rehman's own clothes followed suit, his sherwani and trousers discarded to the floor in a heap, leaving him in nothing but his boxers, erection painfully hard and visibly throbbing.
He guided you back onto the bed, the mattress dipping under your combined weight as he followed, his body hovering over yours, knees parting your thighs, exposing the smooth expanse of your legs to his exploring hands. He kissed his way down your neck, lingering at the hollow of your collarbone before descending to the valley between your breasts, his mouth hot and insistent as he lavished attention on one mound, sucking the nipple into the wet heat of his mouth while his hand kneaded the other, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers until you were writhing beneath him, soft moans escaping your throat like pleas for more.
He settled between your legs then, his hips nestling against yours so that you felt the hard heat of him pressing against your core through the flimsy fabric, grinding slowly in a rhythm that mimicked the thrusts to come, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, the payal jingling messily, pulling him closer as his mouth claimed yours again in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue, desperate and devouring. His hand slid down your body, tracing the dip of your waist, the flare of your hip, before dipping between your thighs to cup your pussy, fingers pressing against the soaked cotton, rubbing in firm circles over your clit that had you bucking up against him, chasing the friction with a whimper that he swallowed greedily
"Tell me what you want, jaan", he breathed against your lips, his voice husky with restraint, though his eyes betrayed the storm raging within, and you arched into his touch, your hands roaming over the ridges of his back, nails digging in just enough to elicit a growl from deep in his chest.
"You". you managed, the word breathless
"I need you Rehman. Please.", you whimper and that was all the invitation he needed, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties and tugging them down your legs with a swiftness that contrasted his earlier languor, tossing them aside before parting your folds with gentle fingers, exposing your slick pussy to the air.
The coolness makes you gasp even as his thumb found your clit again, circling it with expert precision while two fingers delved into your entrance, stretching you slowly, curling to brush that spot inside that made stars burst behind your eyelids.
He worked you like that for what felt like an eternity, his mouth alternating between your breasts and your neck, sucking marks into your skin that would bloom like love bites come morning, a claim as ingrained as the rings on your fingers. His fingers pumped in and out of you, the wet sounds of your arousal filling the room like the most erotic symphony, building you higher and higher until your walls fluttered around him, teetering on the edge of release.
But Rehman was not one to let the crescendo come too soon. He withdrew his fingers just as your body tensed, leaving you panting and bereft, a whine of protest slipping from your lips that he silenced with another deep kiss, positioning himself at your entrance. You didn't even realize when he had slipped out of his boxers, far too engrossed with how good Rehman was making feel.
The broad head of his cock nudged against your folds, coating himself in your wetness before pushing forward inch by agonizing inch.
The stretch was exquisite, a burn that bordered on pain but melted into pleasure as he filled you completely, his cock splitting you open in the most delicious way, and you cried out, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he bottomed out. His hips pressed flush against yours, grinding against your clit in a way that had you seeing white. He stilled there, buried to the hilt, his forehead resting against yours as he allowed you both to adjust, his breath coming in ragged bursts that fanned over your face, and when he began to move, it was with a slow, grinding roll of his hips that dragged his cock along every sensitive nerve inside you, building the friction anew with each deliberate thrust.
You met him thrust for thrust, your hips rising to take him deeper, the bed creaking beneath you in time with your shared rhythm, and he praised you through gritted teeth, words tumbling out in a torrent of "so tight" and "perfect for me" that only fueled the fire coiling tighter in your core.
As the pace quickened, Rehman's control frayed at the edges, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, the slap of skin against skin echoing through the chamber. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle so that he hit that spot inside you with unerring accuracy on every plunge. The payals adding to the symphony of noises your bodies were making. He bit onto the payal, dragging your feet closer to his face on his shoulder, stopping when he deemed it close enough. He kissed your feet, trailing down to your ankle, while still thrusting deep into you.
Your pussy clenched around him like a vice as the pleasure bordered on overwhelming. Sweat slicked your bodies, making every slide and grip more sensual, more intimate, and you dropped your arms to grab at anything you could find. You grip the sheets so hard, moaning out his name like a prayer.
He reached between your bodies then, his thumb finding your clit once more, rubbing in tight circles that matched the frenzy of his hips, and it was too much, the dual sensations pushing you over the brink, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, walls spasming around his cock as you screamed his name, the sound raw and unrestrained in the candlelit hush.
Rehman followed moments later, his thrusts erratic as he chased his own release, burying himself deep one final time before spilling inside you, hot pulses of cum flooding your pussy, marking you from the inside out as his body shuddered above yours, a guttural moan tearing from his throat that vibrated through your joined forms.
He collapsed onto you gently, careful not to crush you with his weight, his cock still twitching within you as aftershocks rippled through you both, and he peppered your face with soft kisses, murmuring endearments in the afterglow, his hands stroking your hair, your sides, as if he couldn't get enough of touching you even now.
As you drifted toward sleep in his arms, the weight of his body a comforting anchor, Rehman pressed a final kiss to your temple. And as he holds you, skin to skin, breath to breath, you know with clarity that for all the power he wields beyond these walls, this is the one place where Rehman Dakait kneels willingly. In love.
A.N: i reread once and realized i've used 'reverence' so many time omg. im posting this before i overthink this asdggjkl. i'd really appreciate feedback on it 🥺👉👈
Literally I’ve been fucking complaining to my boyfriend about how I can’t find another writer on here as good as you bitch. You’ll literally forever be my fav, but any recommendations—Writers on here you like?
HA i love you
absolutely, here's a compilation of some all-time faves in no particular order. some are dark so check the tags
bos taurus / field dressing / caging a wolfdog by @/yeyinde
in the walls / gemstones / big dog by @/theorist-fox
sirius c / hound dog / buttermilk / superstore by emphemeron
rugby simon / neighbour price by @/captainfern
gunslinger / guile and guilt / ursa major by @/the-californicationist
underdog / tenderfoot by @/basementcoffee
dark matter by @/beebymoonlight
animal, sick as they come / run until you feel your lungs bleeding by @/ohbo-ohno
Your heels clack on the ground as you walk fast, nervousness filling your heart. You drop your books when the footsteps get louder, starting to run. You run down a sharp corner, breath catching in your throat the second you come face to face with a dead end. You don't dare turn around, feeling his presence behind you.
You can practically imagine his smug smile and those gleaming eyes full of condescension. His hands press in your hips, groping the soft flesh harshly. The next thing you know you're in his room.
Tiberius lets out a low, satisfied growl as you give in and let him bury his face in your chest. His hands slide back up to your ass, gripping it possessively. He grinds his thigh against your heat, trying to find some friction.
His lips move over your chest, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses up your neck. He sucks on the sensitive spot behind your ear, his fingers digging into your skin. "You smell amazing.." he mutters against your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.
His mouth latches onto your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. He moves lower, trailing hot, wet kisses down your collarbone, your hands moving to grip his hair, burying itself in the soft locks. His thigh presses harder against your core, creating delicious friction. He lets out a low groan against your skin, his fingers flexing possessively on your ass.
"You taste even better.." he breaths, his voice rough and raw with desire. He moves lower, his hands sliding under your shirt, fingers grazing the soft skin of your stomach. He pushes the fabric up, exposing more skin to his touch. He moves lower again, leaving a trail of hot kisses down your chest.
His fingers hook into the waistband of your pants, pulling them down bit by bit. He's painfully slow, his movements filled with calculated possessiveness. "Let me have you, doll.." he breathes against your skin, his fingers trailing lower. Tiberius lets out a low, primal growl as you whisper an affirmative. His fingers hook into the waistband of your pants, pulling them down with a swiftness that surprises you. His hands grab your hips, fingers digging into the skin as he manhandles you onto your back. He spreads your legs, pressing himself between them.
His face is level with your most intimate parts, his hands keeping your legs spread. He lets out a breath, his voice rough and hoarse as he takes in the sight. "You're... beautiful.." he breathes. His eyes rake over your exposed body, drinking in every inch of you. His hands slide up your thighs, spreading your legs even further. He lets out a low, raspy groan, his fingers grazing over the softness of your inner thighs. His eyes stay locked between your legs, his fingers inching closer to your center.
His hands come to rest on your hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He leans forward, his face coming closer to your core. He lets out a hot breath, the sensation against your sensitive flesh sending shivers down your spine. Tiberius's hands grip your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin. He lets out a low, hoarse moan as he inhales your scent. His tongue flicks out, grazing your clit. You let out a gasp, your hands automatically flying to his hair. He takes that as a cue, his tongue swirling around your clit. He lets out another low groan, the vibration adding to the sensation.
His hands slide under your ass, tilting your hips up, giving him better access. He dips his tongue lower, sliding itInto your heat, the warm wetness of it leaving you gasping. He gives a few slow, lazy circles with his tongue, savoring your taste. His hands grip your ass even tighter, pulling you even closer to his face. He lets out a low growl, the sound sending shivers through your body. "You're so... wet." he murmurs against your skin, his words husky and thick with desire.
He laps at your clit like it's candy, alternating between circles and flicks. His tongue is relentless, driving You to the edge, the pressure building with each flick and stroke. Your hands grip his hair tighter, fingernails raking against his scalp.
Your moans and gasps fill the room, a symphony of pleasure that drives Tiberius wild. He groans against your clit, the sound reverberating against your sensitive flesh. He sucks and swirls, his tongue working you with a level of expertise that leaves you spiraling.
His fingers dig into your hip, his grip punishingly tight. He pushes one finger into you, the sudden invasion making you gasp. He slides it into your wetness, spreading you open, preparing you for More. He pumps it in and out of you, his finger long and skilled. He adds another, the stretch slightly uncomfortable but still pleasurable. He presses them against your front wall, searching for that sweet spot.
You buck your hips, begging for more, and he gladly obliges. He adds a third finger, the stretch slightly painful now, but the pleasure outweighs it. He pumps his fingers into your dripping pussy, the sound of wet squelching filling The room. Your hands grip his hair even tighter, your nails digging into his scalp.
His mouth and fingers work in tandem, driving you towards the edge. He sucks and licks and pumps, his hands and mouth working you with a ruthless efficiency.
Pleasure pools in your belly, a coiled tight knot of heat and pressure that's ready to explode. You can't speak, can only gasp and moan, your body taut and tense, ready to snap.
Tiberius seems to sense your nearing her peak, his fingers pumping into you with a newfound urgency. He sucks at your clit, rougher than before, trying to push you over the edge. His free hand comes up, his thumb finding your clit. He rubs it in quick, relentless circles, adding to the overwhelming sensation. He moans against your clit, the vibrations sending jolt after jolt through your body.
“Come for me, baby," he growls, his fingers curling inside you, finding that sweet spot that drives you wild. You're close, so close, the pressure building to an agonizing peak. You can feel your inner muscles clenching around his fingers, your body begging for release. He doubles his efforts, his fingers pumping into you with a bruising force, his mouth still working your clit. His thumb never stops its relentless circles, the pressure building and building until you feel you're on the verge of madness.
“Please," you whine, breathless, your fists clenched in his hair. “Please, please, oh god, please… “.
He doesn't let up, only increases the speed and roughness of his fingers pumping into you. Every time he bottoms out, he puts pressure on your front wall, hitting that sweet spot that makes you see stars.
His mouth is relentless, alternating between sucking and lapping at your clit. His tongue flicks over your clit, circling and swirling before going back to sucking. His thumb never relents in its quick, unyielding circles. He sucks harder, rougher, the pressure building to a fever pitch, and you feel like you're about to snap.
You're a mess, a sweaty, shaking wreck. You can barely speak. The only sounds you can make are moans and whimpers and pleas And then you're falling, tumbling down into sweet release. You're pussy clenches hard around his fingers, your thighs quivering, your back arching off the bed. You cry out, his name spilling from your lips gasping and moaned.
He eases his fingers out of you, his mouth detaching from your clit. He places soft kisses along the insides of your thighs, then sits up, licking his fingers. His eyes are dark as they rake over you, his mouth curled up in a smug smirk as he takes in your wrecked form. You're a limp mess, sprawled out on the bed. Your chest heaves, your face flushed. Your legs are still shaking, and you feel like you're floating on air.
Tiberius stands between your legs, his eyes dark and possessive as he towers over you. He reaches out, fingers grazing your cheek. Your cheeks, rosy from pleasure and exertion.
“Gorgeous,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. “You're so beautifully debauched right now". You can only respond with a weak moan, your body too weak, too pleasure-drunk to formulate words.
He climbs onto the bed, settling between your legs. He cups your face, his eyes scanning your features, taking in the aftermath of your pleasure. His hands slide down to your hips, grip possessively tight. His fingers dig into the soft flesh, nails scraping against skin. He leans down, bracing himself on his forearms, his body pressing against yours.
His face is mere inches away, his eyes locked onto yours. He lowers his head, his lips grazing your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “You're mine,” he breathes, his voice a rough, hoarse whisper.He tugs his pants, lining and pushing in your entrance. You can only gasp, your body still sensitive from your previous orgasm. He hisses through his teeth as he slides into you, stretching your walls. He's big, bigger than his fingers.
He lets out a low, hoarse groan, his head falling to the crook of your neck. He slides all the way in, and you let out a low whine. “So tight,” he grunts, his hands sliding down to grip your ass. "So good." He pulls back, almost all the way out. He pauses, letting you adjust to his size, then slams back in, filling you up once more.
He keeps a steady pace, his hips snapping into yours with a rough, bruising force. His hands grip your hips, fingertips digging into your skin. His mouth finds your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he sucks and bites. He pulls back, his arms wrapping around you, pulling your upper body against his chest.
"Look at me," he demands. Your eyes fly open, meeting his gaze. Your hands go to his shoulders, fingers clutching the fabric of his expensive shirt. He holds eye contact as he slides in and out of you, his eyes dark, domineering. His grip on your hip is vice-like, possessiveness and dominance evident in the way he manhandles you, manipulating your body to his will.
His other hand slides into your hair, fingers gripping the locks. He pulls your head back, exposing your neck to him. He ducks his head, his lips finding your neck. He sucks and sucks, making his mark. His hips never slow down.You grip his shoulders helplessly, your body completely under his control. He's in control of your every movement, your every sound. His mouth is relentless on your neck, marking you. He's claiming you.
“You're mine,” he breathes against your skin, his voice harsh and thick. “Mine, mine, mine." His fingers curl in your hair tighter, possessiveness and obsession evident in his grip. He's taking what's his, marking you as his.
His hips snap into yours, each thrust rough and forceful. You can feel him everywhere, can't escape him. "Mine," he growls possessively against your skin, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Completely mine." His grip on your hips tightens, nails digging into your skin. Every thrust drives you further and further into the mattress, the roughness of the movement driving you wild. He's in total control, and you're at his mercy.
His mouth is hot against your neck, his teeth nipping at your flesh. He's marking you, claiming you as his own. He owns every inch of you, and there's no getting away. He's all-consuming, overwhelming.
"You're my pretty little doll, and you'll do whatever I say," he rasps, his words a command.His hand in your hair grows tighter, nearly painful. Your hips will be bruised in the morning, a mark of his possession. His movements become rougher, more insistent. Your head is spinning, your senses overwhelmed.
He's everywhere, his hands, his body, his scent, his voice. He's taking up all the space, leaving no room for anything else. He owns you entirely. “You’re mine,” he breathes into your neck, a low, raw, possessive growl that leaves no room for doubt. "Completely mine."
His hips stutter, signalling his incoming release. You clench around him purposefully, and then he's filling you up. He stiffens against you, a hoarse growl escaping his lips. His fingers dig into your skin, his body going rigid. He lets out a low curse. He finally slows to a stop, panting into your neck, his heart pounding against your chest.
His grip on you relaxes slightly, but he doesn't move away. He remains like that for a moment, as if trying to catch his breath or let the room stop spinning.
He finally moves, easing himself off you and settling beside you. He pulls you to his side, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. His fingers trace patterns on your bare skin, a small, satisfied smirk playing on his lips.
“You okay?” he asks gruffly, his voice betraying a shred of concern. You nod, your body still thrumming with pleasure. You curl into him, nestling your face into his chest. His heart is still racing, his chest rising and falling with each deep, heavy breath.
His fingers continue to trace patterns on your skin, now making lazy circles around your hip.He's uncharacteristically silent, his mind seemingly occupied with something. His fingers still roam your skin, his touch almost absentminded.
Finally, he speaks. “You're bruised,” he states gruffly, his fingers ghosting over the hickeys now blooming on your neck. Your fingers trace over the marks, wincing slightly when you touch one of the larger ones. He watches you quietly, his expression unreadable.
"Doesn't hurt," you mumble, still a little breathless. "Much*. His expression remains neutral, but his fingers continue to brush over the marks almost tenderly.
“You're lying," he says stoically, his eyes locked on the hickeys. "You should put makeup on tomorrow. Go to sleep". He lets out a low hum, sensing your drowsiness. His hand still on your neck, his fingers rubbing smooth circles. His other arm wraps around you, pulling you closer to him. He rests his chin on the top your head, holding you against him possessively.
“Sleep,” he mutters into your hair. “You'll have a long day tomorrow.”
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hope you guys enjoyed that^°^ writing smut after a WHILEEE ugh I had sex with my boyfriend and just wrote that down but changed the characters
I broke up with my boyfriend so time for some angst
She stayed quiet for a while, thinking. Then it hit her, and she sighed
"I can hide. We don't have to break up."
For the first time in a long time, he hesitates.
"Hide? What do you mean? Hide where? How?"
He takes a step closer to her, studying her expression. His gray eyes betray a mixture of frustration and a hint of sadness.
"This is because of those men, right? You think they will come after me." She spoke, looking at him with a nervous expression.
"Of course it's those fucking Dragons!" He snaps, his frustration evident. "If those bastards find out about you, they'll do anything to screw with me using you. I'm not going to let them hurt you." He runs his hand through his hair, sighing deeply as he lowers his eyes. "You don't know what they are capable of. Trust me, please. You don't want to be involved in all of this."
"I'll wait. I'll wait for you." She said, grabbing his coat, pulling him closer to her trembling form. ''I'll wait, so--.. Don't break up with me. Please.''
God-fucking-damnit, he can never say no. He's not strong enough. He looks at you for a long moment, searching for the strength to push you away.
"...I-" his voice catches, the words dying in his throat as he tries to break your hopes, but his arms, moving on his own, wrap around you in a tight embrace."No. You can't. Please. You deserve better than me."
He murmurs as he holds you against his chest, one hand caressing your hair. "You're so sweet and innocent. I am darkness and violence. I live for fighting, for the chase. You deserve someone better than me. Someone who can love you truly. Who can give you a safe life. I can't do that for you. You know I can't."
"I'll die without you". She screamed, voice trembling. "Please don't leave me. I'll wait-.. So please."
There are few things in the world more painful for him than seeing you cry. His heart feels like it's been stabbed as a tight knot forms in his chest. His eyes are also glassy with tears, but he doesn't shed them. Him, being an extremely stoic and closed-off man, would rather cut open his veins than show his tears. It's a weakness he refuses to show.
"Love. Lov-" he whispers, his voice strained, his fingers digging into your waist. He shakes his head, swallowing hard. His heart is breaking, he's unable to see you cry. Unable to hear you beg. He's is losing his composure as the knot in his chest tightens further. He wants to fight it, fight his feelings, but he cannot. His arms tighten around you.
"Alright. Please, please stop crying. I won't." He whispers in a cracked voice, pressing your face against his chest. "I won't break up, my love. I'm here, I-I'm here." His voice falters, barely audible. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, his voice low as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. His fingers press into your skin, needing to feel you close. To have you near.
His eyes are closed, tears welling up and he hates himself for being so weak. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He can hear his father's disapproving voice in his head, telling him that he shouldn't be crying. That he should be strong. That a man should never cry.
Without a word, she sat beside him and placed a hand on his back. He flinched slightly at the contact but didn’t pull away. She began rubbing slow, soothing circles, waiting for him to speak, but he stayed silent.
“Hey,” she said gently, her voice a soft melody in the silence. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, you don’t have to face it alone.”
He shook his head, his hands dropping to his lap as he wiped at his eyes hastily. “I shouldn’t be like this,” he said, his voice raw and barely audible. She knelt in front of him, her hands gently cupping his tear-streaked face. Her voice trembled, raw with emotion, but her words were steady.
“I’ll wait, okay?” she whispered, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. Her lips lingered there, as though trying to pour all her strength into him. “For days. Months. Years. I don’t care how long it takes—I'll be here, waiting for you to find your way back.”
She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her gaze fierce, unwavering. “But don’t you dare die on me. Don’t even think about it. I swear, if you try to leave me, I’ll follow you. To the ends of the earth, to the edge of whatever comes after this life—I’ll chase you, and I’ll bring you back.” Her voice cracked, but her grip on his face tightened. “You can’t escape me. You don’t get to leave me here, not like this. Not ever.”
I was smoking with my situationship and thought of this
pretty, pretty girl~•°♡
You did this for him. Wearing skirts you hated. Tops that spilled your pretty clevage out. Lacy and tight stockings, adorned in pretty bows and small pink hearts.
His knee rubs your core as he hold your legs open, and you wonder if you're the first girl he's done this with. You're aware it's your pretty little fsce that got you here.
Not the fact that you're great at building legos. Or that you can pass those speed tests by how fast you type. Or that you can whip up a research paper in just a few hours.
He breathes out smoke in your face, a bored expression on his face. His eyes aren't on your face, but down on the flimsy top you wore.
It's too small
He comments, eyes fixed in your clevage. You're suddenly aware of how half your tits are practically spilling out.
I know
He raises an eyebrow at that response. You can tell he doesn't like it one bit. The twitch on his eyebrow, the subtle fall on his lips. He tuts lowly, putting the blunt out before he rubs his knee harder.
You moan blissfully, eyes shut and eyebrows scrunched. Your face twists in pleasure, glossy opens open in an 'o' as you mumble incoherent words
please-ah, Hobie-- ngh, so good-
He's harsh. Rough. Unforgiving. His knee moves fast against your panties, pink with a small bow on it. You don't think he even noticed the little bow. His eyes are drawn to your perky breasts, watching them move. It brings him satisfaction, so he rubs harder, just to watch them shake. Lovely, he thinks.
He finds your blabbing adorable, if not your attitude. He thinks you look the prettiest like this -- dazed out by smoking his blunt, sprawled out in his bed.
Pretty, pretty girl. He thinks you're easy to break. With how pliable you turn at the slightest touch. With how your perky your nipples get with just a small graze.
You're easy
He mutters, watching you. Looking down at you, challenging you to bark back. To scream at him. To defend yourself. You can tell he's mocking you. His hand leaves your thigh, moving to pinch your perky tit.
I said you're easy, darling.
He repeats, looking for a reaction. But you're fucked out completely. Blabbing words you don't even understand, too lost in the pleasure to care about him. Your hips fuck back in his knee, whimpers leaving your shiny pink lips as you ride your high on him.
Hobie- gah, please-- ohgodyes!
You're aware he doesn't think of you. Care for you. You're just another girl. Another pretty baby that landed on his lap. Another pretty baby he's gonna use, and when he's done, he'll discard his pretty baby.
But you like it. No, you love it. Your eyes blink open, teary as you come down from your high, leaving his knee drenched.
I wrote this on my phone. Spare me if there's any spelling errors
comfort scenarios I think of when I read. i was crying alone and started thinking of how nice it would be have someone who'd actually comfort me so I wrote this LMAO
hey-?
You watch as his face falls, the packet in his hand dropping as he rushes to grab your face. His eyes scan you -- glossy eyes that threaten to cry any second, lip quivering and red from biting, and cheeks puffed out.
He immediately knows something happened. Without a word, his thumb softly wipes your tears, mumbling soft words over and over as he tries to comfort his princess
hey, hey-- im here now, okay? Tell me whats wrong, princess
Your lip quivers as you try to speak, and when he kisses your forehead, it feels like a dam has been broken. Instead of speaking, you're sobbing like a baby, crying out to him.
His heart drops low in his stomach, and he physically feels the pain in his stomach seeing you cry. He ushers you in his arms, rubbing your back lovingly and patting you. He has to kneel down to grab your face properly, grabbing your puffed cheeks and kissing your tears away.
He thinks it's cute how you puff up like a child when you cry. Your eyes turn glossy and the slight gulp of your throat give you away immediately. One word and you're crying a river. It only makes him want you keep you closer, away from harm.
Better now?
He mumbles, watching as your breathes slow down. Your lip isn't quivering anymore, but slightly parted as you take in air. Your eyes aren't glossy, but red and slightly swollen.
You give him a small nod, and he almost dies at how cute it is. Like a small child, he thinks.
Your hands tug out, silently asking to be held. He coos, immediately holding you to him. Although his grip is strong, and you can barely breath as he holds you, it's comforting.
Better.
You affirm in neck, closing your eyes. He responds by laying a kiss between your eyes, right where you have a scar. He thinks the scar makes you look prettier. His thumb gently rubs circles on your cheek, admiring how soft and pliable you become in his hold.
He doesn't ask what happened. Or why you were crying. He pats his lap, and in an instant you're already on him, snuggling in like a koala.
His fingers rub long lines on your back, as the other scratches your scalp. He feels your body get heavier. Ah, you're sleeping.
His hand stills. He lays down with you on top of him, holding you close as you continue sleeping.
waiting for him eagerly and then showing him attitude
mdni: mentions of spanking, degrading nicknames, user is slapped
please do not COPY or POST my work without permission
"Cmon, baby. I already said I'm sorry."
You turn away, not even bothering to look at him. It was past 11 PM. You'd been waiting for him to get home as he promised at 8 PM. The Chinese takeout lay cold on the table, the smell of Manchurian whafing through the air.
"... I had a night shift, baby. You know I can't refuse my manager right now. We need the money" You huff, crossing your arms. "Seriously, silent treatment?
You don't answer him. The air shifts, and the tension is so thick between the two of you. You could physically feel how irritated he was. But, you were stubborn.
"Is that how you're gonna be? Baby, I've had a long day. Don't make this worse for me. Talk to me." And when you ignore him again he pauses. There's a shift in his demeanor. His hand shoots out, easily yanking your smaller frame up. He looks down at you and that's when you know you've fucked up.
"I'm giving you one last chance. Talk to me." His tone was stern, and you could tell he wasn't playing around. So, you slapped his hand away, glaring at him. And that's what seems to cross the line.
He leaves your collar and you step back, looking up at his face. His expression is unreadable. His eyes showed tiredness. "Run. I'm giving you ten seconds. And when I find you-
You freeze, taking steps back until you hit the wall
-I'm gonna hurt you"
It's cramped. Your ankle was pressed in between layers of clothes, and your vein popped. It took every inch of your control to not move. You clasped a hand over your mouth, your breathing sounding way too loud.
A shrill screech of the rusted door opening was heard. It was your room's door, the one you had to get oiled. Your heartbeat increased with every footstep he took, the sound of his leather boots going thump thump thump.
"Come out, baby. Where are you, my love? Perhaps under the bed?" Your blood ran cold when he laughed, the throaty chuckle sending chills down your body. And when he's in front of the cupboard, you silently prayed to all the Gods you knew.
And then the door opens.
A cold hand brush against the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Frozen in terror, you didn't dare move as a low, raspy whisper pierced the silence, chilling to the very soul. "There you are, my pretty baby. I dare say, the look on your face right now is arousing me so much"
Slowly, the cupboard door ceased open, revealing a pair of piercing eyes gleaming in the dim light. With a bone-chilling grin, the figure stepped closer, his presence suffocating, engulfing you in a vortex of fear. In that moment, you realized you weren't hiding from a mere mortal, but something far more sinister, something that had been lurking in the shadows all along, waiting to claim its next victim.
"You're fucked, baby"
His hands were fast. In a second, you were stripped off clothes, and tied to bed. His hand was caressing your neck, peppering kisses down your nape.
"... N-nikol-" You winced when he slapped you right across your face, the sting making your eyes water. "Did I ask you to speak?
"You remained silent, gazing at him in fear. Then, you slowly shook your head. A satisfied hum left his throat and he sat up beside you, trailing his hand down your breasts.
His cold finger brushed against your erected nipple, sending waves of pleasure through you. You whimpered lowly, hoping not to piss him off.
All of a sudden, he removes his hand, rummaging through your desk bed. Then, he pulls out your pink vibrator, turning it on. The only sound you could hear was the buzzing of the vibrator. He leaned down, tutting when he spread your legs.
"Already so wet? Such a whore." He muttered, roughly pushing the vibrator in your cunt. Your grimaced at the sensational, toes curling. "You're better like this, you know. Chained up with your mouth shut. I'm thinking I'll keep you this way from now on." He says, staring at you with glinted eyes, watching how your greedy hole sucked the vibrator in. "What do you say, baby?" You whine as a reply, hips bucking up in response. He chuckles, caressing your stomach.
"Turn over. Face down ass up." You listened, putting your cuffed hands behind your back and raising your ass in the air. He roughly pushed your vibrator deeper, earning a moan from you.
"Count, loud and clear. Make a mistake and I'll start all over again" Huh? Count what? You open your mouth to speak, only to shut it when he starts to unbuckle his belt. The leather whips in the air and you lose your breath when you realise what he's about to do.
Whack
You yelped in pain, your hip bucking up. "O-one". It felt like your hip was on fire. Surely, they're will be marks by tomorrow.
Whack. Whack. Whack
You cry out loudly, tears dripping down your face. "F-four!" You practically scream, your cries filling up the room. His calloused hand roughly sets on your ass, caressing the marks he made.
Whack. Whack. Whack
You scream in agony, feeling a new cut. The sharp side of the belt hurt so bad. "S-seven, Nikolai!" You're a crying mess. He drops the belt in the floor, caressing the prints he made on your rear lovingly. He slides his hand down, before taking the vibrator out your hole. It's covered in your arousal, the smell whafing through the air. He grins, discarding it on the floor.
He pats your cunt before swiping a thumb and seeing his wet you are. "Huh, I don't even need to finger you. Good girl". He mutters, before bucking his hips and entering you. You practically cry out in relief, sucking him in. You're moaning over and over again, squirting over the bed, dirtying your thighs. He finds it adorable- how cock drunk you were. His hand grabbed your hair, yanking you up.
"Look at you. Fucking bimbo" You let out a lewd whine, erotically rubbing your nipples. He groaned at the sight, bucking his hips faster. "N-nikolai-! " And with a scream, you came undone. He huffed, filling you up before pulling out. His fingers spread your folds, watching the way his cum dripped down. He let out a low moan at the sight, slapping your cunt.
"I'm so s-orry Nikolai" He almost coos at your sweet tone, bending down to swoop you in his arms. You cry out, clinging on him tightly. "I was just p-issed. Wanted you all to myself. Missed you". He listened to your blabbing, hands rubbing your breast softly. By the look in his eyes, you can tell he's not done yet.
mdni: dark content, mentions of degrading nicknames, abusive and toxic relationship
starring my twink malewife Nikolai ^^
"Fyodor-?" Your sweet voice rings in his room as you walk in, opening the curtains. It's 10 AM, a perfect Sunday morning. "Wake up, it's already 10. How long are you gonna stay coped in there?" Your tone is slightly strict, nagging him for being such a bed bug. You sigh when he pulls the blanket over him, reluctant to get up. "Do you want me to splash water on your face again?". At the mention of water, he gets up, staring at you with a scrutinized expression.
"It's my day off. Go away." You huff at his cold tone, opening the window and letting sunlight in.
Its been 5 months since you started living with him. A medical student with basically zero income- you needed a cheap place to stay, which wasn't hard when you found Fyodor. You still remember it like it was yesterday. Discovering he was anaemic was easy- there were signs. The first was how cold he was- just like his demeanor. His finger tips felt like ice against your plump skin. His eyes seemed tired, a yellowish hue in them. So, when he fainted while working, it didn't surprise you.
"You know, you should stop being so mean to me". You jokingly say, earning a glare from him. He slowly gets up, gulping down water. You stare at him for a second, before making his bed up.
Huh? Blood? You freeze, looking at his undershirt. The sleeves were ripped, as if surviving an assault. Half of the buttons were either ripped off or broken in half. What makes you erk was the humongous blood stain on it, the stench making you crill your nose up. It takes you by surprise when he suddenly grabs the shirt, yanking it from your hands.
"Fyod-" "Did I ask you to make the bed? Stop pissing me off first thing in the morning."
You're taken aback by his strict tone, taking a step back. He enters the washroom, slamming the door shut. You huff, making your way over the kitchen.
You're left alone the whole day, the man not bothering to come out his room
Ring. Ring. Ring
You get up, startled by the sudden series of bells chiming. You hurriedly open the door, still half sleepy. "Who is it-...?". Your eyes meet one of a confused man. Long, white braided hair- spreading along him like an expanse of white scenery. He tilts his head, looking down at you with a grin.
"Wow, Fedya has a girlfriend? You're pretty, miss." Eh? A girlfriend? You shake your head, confused. "I'm his roomate. Who might you be?". At your question, the man fakes a disheartened smile, clutching his shirt. "How cruel, my dear Fedya hasn't mentioned me to you even once? Ah, well. He is an asshole, so." You fake a smile, looking at him. "He's not home right now. Is there a message you want me to pass down, sir-"
Oh, Lord. You freeze at the sinister smile the stranger gives you, his lips stretching wide. The lips, typically drawn in a tight, thin line, seem to stretch unnaturally across the face, forming a grim, twisted expression that appears almost predatory. The corners of his mouth turn up slightly, but there's no warmth or sincerity in the gesture. Instead, it exudes an aura of calculated malice, as if the person behind it is relishing some hidden agenda or reveling in the discomfort they are causing.
"Ah, how cute. Staying with a criminal-" Before he could complete what he was saying, you slam the door in his face, dropping to the floor. Your heartbeat is the fastest it has ever been. In a second, you're sprinting, closing all the windows in the house and double locking the back door. You hug yourself, wrapping yourself up in sheets, hoping to find some comfort.
Till dawn, the image on that smile haunts your mind.
"Fyodor? Your friend came to visit you." He quirks an eyebrow, lifting his gaze from the book he was reading. He's silent, signalling you to continue.
"He has really long, white hair. Honestly, he scared the crap out of me. He startes grinning like a madman and he said I'm living with a criminal. People these days are-"
Huh? You shut your mouth when you see his expression. His eyes are wide, staring at you as he's seen a ghost. You shiver.
"And he kept calling you Fedya". He gets up, grabbing your shoulder. You look at him, confused. " Fyo-". His hand chops down on your neck. You gasp, feeling immense pain run through your spine. In a second, you're out cold.
".. You know too much."
As you woke, your heart pounded in terror. Chains bounded your wrists and ankles, trapping you in a dim, foreboding room. Panic surged through you as you struggled against the cold metal, realizing you were captive and alone, mind racing with fear and uncertainty.
"You're up"
You lift your head, heart dropping to your stomach when you recognize the familiar face. The tired eyes, purple hair. "Fyodor-?... Why are you-.. "
And then it all comes down. The countless blood stains you found on his shirt. His absence of days, stretching to weeks. How he hated you grabbing his phone. At a point, this should have deemed suspicious to you. But, love makes you blind, right?
It was like love at first sight. His tone was oddly gentle and he was more open to you. His build was slim but he was strong, strong enough to grab you when you almost fell from the couch. You felt nervous under his gaze. When your eyes met, a rush of nervous excitement fluttered in the pit of your stomach, mingling with the undeniable pull of attraction. It was as if time stood still, the world fading away around you as you became lost in the depths of his gaze.
"... Will you kill me too, Fyodor?". Your sweet voice rings through him again, and he clenches his teeth, almost holding back. His hand grabs your chin, tilting it up. You smile at him, a genuine one.
"I love you, Fyodor."
He stares at you, silent for a moment before he slowly starts laughing. He laughs and laughs, the sound cold and humourless. "Oh, you really are dumb, aren't you? I already suspected you were one. But this? What an idiot."
He stands up now, walking to where you sit on the floor. A harsh smirk is on his lips now, and he stands above you, looking down at you with a twisted expression. "Look at you... you honestly can't see why I picked you? A dumb slut is what you are. And you're mine to play with, after all. Honestly, I'm a little disappointed. I thought you were smarter, but, clearly not. You're nothing but an idiotic whore."
"But-" Your voice cracks. "I love you, Fyodor. I love every single moment that happened between us. There’s no way all that was fake." You say, crying.
"Oh? You love me?" He grips your hair now, pulling you up to your feet. He smirks as his eyes stare darkly into your own, almost sadistically amused by your words. He's always been cruel, but... never to this degree. "My dear, look where it's gotten you, hm? You're at my mercy... do you really think confessing to loving a man like me will do you any good?"
You gasp for breath, tears streaming down your face. "Play with me, Fedya". You say, tone almost desperate. " Just don’t leave, Fedya-"
Your words die at your tongue when a cold blade presses on your neck. Before you could move, your eyes close. You suddenly realise you can't move -- won't move. The blood spills and colors the floor is a beautiful red color, soaking his shoes up. It's the last thing you ever see
please do not COPY or POST my work without permission
As the wind lashes against your face, you sprint, feeling your heart pounding in rhythm with your rapid footsteps. "We'll get caught, Kazu!" you exclaim to the boy running beside you, his vibrant yellow hair bouncing with each stride. "You're such a coward. We won't, idiot," he retorts, prompting you to yank your hand away from his grip. "I'm not an idiot," you shoot back defiantly. It's Monday, and you're already late for the morning assembly.
"What are you doing? Give me your hand," he demands, swiftly reclaiming your hand without hesitation. You huff, begrudgingly running alongside him, his grasp tightening as the school gate looms closer. Glancing at him, you notice his breath coming out in short rasps, his lips adorned with a pinkish hue under the sunlight. Your heart skips a beat as he turns back to you, flashing a wide, captivating smile. How could someone simply be there and look so enchanting?
You sigh, gradually slowing your pace as the school gate draws near. "Message me before you leave," you manage to utter before the warmth of his hand slips away, leaving you watching his figure disappear into the school building.
"Where are you going?". You murmur, still half-asleep, as you sit up in bed. Your gaze drifts to his back, illuminated by sunlight, which enhances the beauty of his tattoos. The black and purple hues intertwine, forming a dragon that winds its way from his arm to his lower back. Snapping out of your trance, you look up to find him staring at you.
"Kazu, it's still early. Stay in bed with me," ,you plead, grabbing his shirt and tugging at it. He seems to freeze momentarily at your gesture before turning his body towards you. Without a word, he gently grabs your cheek, caressing the soft skin. "Why do you stay?"
His question hits you like a bullet. After enduring all the abuse, tantrums, and headaches, why do you still stay? You remain silent, locking eyes with him as his hand lowers, covering your naked body with the thin blanket. It's a tender touch, a stark contrast to his usual behavior.
You've known him since childhood. Hanemiya is a disturbed individual, growing up with drug-addicted parents and being nurtured by gang members, which left him emotionally scarred and empty. Yet, for him, you are his solace, his peace amidst chaos. You are his moon among the stars. "Stop asking such questions. You know why," you reply dismissively, reclining carelessly in bed.
The blanket slides off you, landing on the floor, leaving you shivering in the cold air. "Kazu, hold me," you request, and he complies, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. His hair tickles your ear, prompting you to push it back. "You should cut your hair. It's getting long," you remark softly. "I know," he replies, his gaze fixed on your face.
You sigh contentedly, burying your face in his neck as you melt into his embrace. It's ironic, really. The same hands that have hurt you are now holding you, as if they genuinely want to keep you safe. You grimace, pushing away such thoughts. After all, you made a promise to him – a promise to stay forever, no matter how difficult it may become.
"W-wait, slow down, Kazu-!" You whimper, crying out from how rough he was being. It wasn't unlike his usual behavior, but this time, he seemed way different. "Kazutora-!"
"Shut up".
You freeze at his words, whining when his tongue circles around your hardened nipple. His eyes were rough and cold. You shiver against his gaze, breathlessly looking up at him. "Be gentle. Please."
Your words cause him to stop. He grips the sheet tightly, as if he were holding back. You raise your hand, grabbing his cheek softly ."What's wrong?"
"What's wrong?" He repeats the sentence and laughs. A cold, dry laugh. It drains you of any emotion. "Wrong? Who the fuck was that guy? Are you seriously going out with him?". You look up at him, confused. "What guy, Kazu?"
He finally looks at you, removing your hand from his cheeks. "The one with black hair. The one you were laughing with in the halls. Do you think he can give you what you want? Do you think he can make you wet like I do? He can't make you a slutty mess like I can". You stare at him, dumbfounded. "He's just a friend, Kazu. I don't see him like that-"
"Huh? Are you dense? Don't you see the way he eyes your breasts?. He curses under his breath, rubbing your nipple with his thumb. "Fuck, I'll kill that kid. Who the hell does he think he is, staring at you like eye candy..."
You whimper, pressing your legs together. His touch arouses you, and deep down, his jealousy makes you wetter than you already were. "Please just... Give it to me already." You mumbled, tugging at his waistband. He curses, pushing you back on the bed.
"You want it? Fuck, I'll give it to you. Spread your legs." You listen almost immediately, parting your thighs. All sense of shame leave you the second his member is visible to you. The tip is almost angry, leaking with precum. Its a good seven inch. Veiny and girthy. You gulp, nervous at the sight. How was that supposed to go in?
You gasp when he pushes the tip in, earning a cry from you. You're scared. Your hands grip his arm, and you feel your eyes tear up. He relaxes, pulling before pushing back in, this time gentler. You gasp, clawing at the sheets, making pathetic and slutty faces.
You gasp, crying his name out when he fills you completely. His tip nudges against your stomach. You look at the bulge, shivering in surprise.
please do not COPY or POST my work without permission
1 AM. The soft sounds of the bells distract you from your thoughts as you look up, sighing. It's another typical day of working night shifts. The chilly weather made you want to stroll outside, instead of sitting in, coped up in a small kitchen. The smell of burning pans and frozen peas were wired in your brain. You huffed, looking down at your fingers. The nail paint was wearing off.
The bell chimes, and you look up to see yet another customer. "What can I get you, sir-".
You freeze when you look up, eyes locking with the man. He wasn't just any man. The white locks fell down his side, expanding as if a serene display of white snow. His face was almost angelic, although devoid of any emotions. What really surprised you was the clown makeup. It was done messily- the red paint smudged against his soft features.
"Do you have a lighter?" You nod almost robotically at his question, reaching for your drawer and handing it to him. You watch him light a cigarette and your gaze falls upon his hands. His fingers had bruises and cuts and his nails were neatly cut. His hand was big. It could probably hold your face properly. You huffed, trying to distract yourself from such thoughts.
"Is that all, sir?" As if on cue, the man hands the lighter back to you. He doesn't say a word. The silence stretches on before his lips open. "Don't you think the whole world is a rattrap? It offers us riches and fame, just like cheese to the mouse."
Huh? You look up from his hands, eyes boring into his. You hadn't expected such a question. His eyes twinkled as he spoke, almost as if the idea of it amazed him.
"It's funny, isn't it? We chase after such materialistic things, that we forgot our sense of humanity. Think about it. We're all just chasing after desires and dreams, getting trapped by society's expectations and materialism. It's like we're all mice running around, oblivious to the fact that we're heading straight into the trap."
You watch his lips twitch into an inhumane smirk. You take a step back, almost as if the counter could protect you from him. You freeze when his hand grabs your chin, yanking you forward. You look at him warily. His finger left a trail of imaginary line on your face, the sharp nail making you shudder.
"... It's such a shame. People think I'm truly mad, walking around and speaking to them about it. They think being a clown has actually made me go crazy. But, can you blame me? It gives me such satisfaction, watching people fall and destroy themselves over the rattrap."
He laughed, his eyes glimmering under the soft light of the bulbs. You felt your heart drop, nerves wracking. He leaned in close enough, lips hovering right about yours.
"What trap would you fall for, dove?". He asks, his voice sickly sweet. You shivered, unable to speak. His eccentric behavior drew you in, almost as if you were a rat and he was the cheese. ".. You".
You spoke, voice hushed and meek. You looked up at him, almost dazed. His hand left your chin. You looked for his words, only for silence to continue. "Oh? That is quite unexpected." You look up at him, flinching when you realised how close he was. His hands trapped you between the counter and him. You had nowhere to go. "... Sir?" He slips his hand inside your pocket, before grinning at you. A ticket? You look at him, confused. "It's for my show. I expect you to not be late, dove".
You look down at it, reading the details. And when you raise your head to ask him why, he's already gone, the familiar sound of the bell chiming in your head as the door closes.
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