hi my brain has been non stop thinking about zeke drilling into the back of a girl and being an inch short of putting a bag over her head to imagine it’s tenet reader since you hit my inbox about it earlier— @zekeslut so landlord zeke is climbing the ranks.
can’t blame you— i myself love the concept of zeke pining and lusting over someone that doesn’t seem to notice him. with all that’s happened to him, i imagine him as someone that comes up with many ways to gain attention, even if they’re not conventional in the slightest.
tw: implied but really rough sex, a sexually and emotionally frustrated zeke, 18+ content (mdni), and my shitty english + writing skills.
at first, he didn’t really pay you any attention. sure, you had a nice body from what one could gather and a voice that could get stuck in his head, but only for a while… until it didn’t. it didn’t help you that the first time he came to see you (one that was actually trying to be polite, an old trick of him to get tenants to trust him and have such a good impression of him that the mere thought of not paying was akin to some unforgivable sin), you opened the door with only a towel covering your soft, damp breast. he would know later that you really hadn’t meant to be seen half-naked by him, but he could only accept your half-assed apologies while he tried te blurb his.
all lies, of course, as he ended up having to lock himself up to wrap his hand around his member, trying to think of your body as he had thought of every other other body he’s fucked and not actually think of you— trying not to think of your voice, the way you’ve always laughed as you passed through his apartment with such a contagious laughter, trying not to think of your glee when he let you know that yes, you can use the pool, and especially trying not to think of the smile he gave to you when you both sealed the deal (“this is your home now, no need to thank me” he had said, perhaps genuinely as well).
but he did, and worst of all— he always thinks of it and more, because when he came into his hand he has to cling onto the room’s door knob so he won’t fall. zeke, with knees weak and heartbeat echoing into his head, knows that this is but the beginning. it came in handy that your job is such a dead-end that every month you’re struggling, if only a little, to pay your due. he won’t evict you, but you didn’t need to know that.
the girls he brought were both a help to his ends as well as a nuisance; sure, they made him hard enough that they were blubbering, spent messes with half a mind after he was done— but they were also noisy, tasteless, silly girls that were too eager to please him, it made him sick that in all their attempts to be you they could potentially drive you away as well.
he would end up pressing their faces against the mattress, the pillows— when he’s lucid enough in between the lust and the anger (and with each time he’s without you, zeke struggles to find any lust and only comes up with more and more frustration), he resorts to fucking their throat until he empties himself into their mouths, appreciating that they open their lips to show his work and sway their hips to ask more… that is, until he remembers it's not you.
it's frustrating, infuriating and contradicting, that no matter how many times zeke reaches his high, how many times he wrecks a beautiful woman's body he can only think of you. no, it's not frustrating: it's maddening.
he consoles himself every time thinking that underneath his floor, you're hearing it all: the chanting of his name, the way he and this-night-gal make the bed cry with every thrust, every move. he hopes that the filth that pours from his mouth and into their bodies passes through the matress and the floor, that it falls into your head as you sleep (or try to sleep) in order to make you think that it could be your body the one zeke paints in white.
you wouldn't need to pay any rent if you live here with me, zeke thinks. and the thought alone of waking up next morning to you is better than any obscenity the girl in front of him is trying to come up with.
"you must be a really desperate slut to ask a fifth time for my cock, but i'm a generous man, my dear," zeke doesn't even want to disimulate that he's not looking at them, he's looking into his mind, underneath the concrete and the little tenant trying to sleep. "all fours, darling. don't say anything except my name for them."
'for her' he struggles not to say, as he pushes himself in one go and tries to think of her— his little tenant that, with luck, must be writhing underneath her sheets begging for zeke.
"Listen to me— you won't get near me nor my friends. If you do, I will lock you on the sewers," he would say, not a twinge of doubt or feign on his voice, "Understood?" And Mandy would nod, nod until he made sure she wasn't just playing alone and let her go.
Of course, most big brothers would exaggerate when threatening their siblings. Even Stuttering Bill Denbrough did, once upon a time where she saw him picking little Georgie (oh god, Georgie) and he had been late, more busy playing with other kids from pre-K. But Henry wasn't Stuttering Bill Denbrough, and unfortunately for Mandy, he wasn't like most older siblings.
Fortunately for her, unlike other girls, Mandy wouldn't tag along him and his friends, that had been a long time ago, a time where Henry would just break her dolls (back when she had dolls, anyway) and when he saw her crying he would put her hand on her mouth, just so they wouldn't bother daddy. Mandy didn't like to think of those times, even if they were easier, prettier— better. She would only get mad, knowing they would never come back.
Yes, those where the times that, when walking down to school (or at least, when Henry didn't had to walk down the school) she would dare to try and grab Henry's hand and, for a while at least, he would tighten his grip so she wouldn't scrap her knees for tripping with a rock, even if he either would laugh at her clumsiness of growl that because of her they would lose their time.
Now she only pulled herself as close to the edge of the seat as she could, thinking that if she sat still and said nothing she wouldn't bother her brother's friends— more importantly, that Henry's friends wouldn't notice it.
I don't know if it was IC in Anduin's part, since I still have to catch up with the lore, but I made a little drabble and I was thinking of posting it. Would anybody read it?
I’ve been having these ideas for a long, long ass time ever since 2013-2015, but I’ve never had the courage to actually do so until now. So anyway, I’m here to announce an Obi-Wan Kenobi/Original Female Character is in the works, in case you’re interested! Just follow the tag “petta writes”
patrick hockstetter + bower’s gang imagines-fanfiction
So, basically, I watched IT and the plot bunnies started to run, especially for the Bower’s Gang and Patrick. Because of course, my inspiration hits hard when it comes with the bad guys.
So, yes, if you got a request or something leave it on my inbox or if you wanna know what I’m working on, send a message. I will post everything on my fanfiction sideblog, @pettas-fics
In which Cosette is an aspiring chef who presents her dishes on a contest hold by the Vinsmoke, and when these try to diss her for her humble background there comes Sanji, a famous chef who praises her cook and offers to teach her from now on.
So, yes, I’m really hyped with Vera as a character even though I, what, only though about it for a few weeks? xD
Anyhow, I’ve also wanted to practice some expressions so, here is a character study for my One Piece OC, Elena Vera, in Oda’s style and a quick doodle on my own style as well >w< Also, I’ve totatally failed on making her look like Freya Mavor.
Imagine this: they have to make sure that Sanji won’t bail out of the wedding and they know that the bracelets and Zeff won’t be enough, they need another reinforcement. Knowing they already have Cosette right under their thumb, they force her to be Sanji’s company, monitoring him so he won’t do anything.
Sanji is aware that they’re not handing him a handmaiden of sorts just for laughs, and is just polite to her, but slowly, they start to get close.
Like, really close.
As in “I’m starting to fantasize you and compromising everything I’ve worked for for a future with you” close.
Bonus: they might start a physical relationship ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
