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moosereblogsfics · 1 year

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No Motive

pairing: serial killer! steve x serial killer!bucky x reader

warnings: DUBCON, kind of non con, serial killer au, horror, slight dacryphilia, violence, smut, p in v, manipulation/coercion, facial, creampie, mentions of virginity loss, masturbation, MINORS DNI, dead dove do not eat. read at your own risk

summary: “Surprise, Sidney!”

a/n: this is a Scream / Grease inspired entry for @boxofbonesfic Friday The 13th challenge for Serial Killer! this is my first time writing anything dark but I had a lot of fun (i love horror/horror movies so this was a fun exercise). thank you so much bones for hosting this super fun challenge and i hope everyone had an absolutely spooktacular Friday the 13th!

word count: 1287 (cutting it close whew)

“Doors locked. Windows and blinds shut. No trips to anywhere but the grocery store or work, during daylight hours. No one is permitted to be outside of their homes after dark.”

That was what the police said. So why the hell were you outside right now? You snuck a quick glance at your boyfriend, who was driving carefree with the windows down.

“You cold, babe?” He shouted over the wind, looking over at you to flash you a cocky smirk. He looked beautiful, and that’s why you were here.

“No,” you mustered, but it was a lie. The anxiety caused by your forbidden outing induced a tremor in your hands as you pressed down your skirt. Steve would be so disappointed if he knew how you were feeling. Wasn’t this romantic? In the very least, it was what all the other couples did at school.

It was what Steve’s ex-girlfriends did with him.

You fought the urge to flip down the little vanity mirror and check your lipstick, make sure you looked pretty enough for him. Instead, you looked over at him with a smile and reached over to squeeze his thigh suggestively. That’s how you were supposed to do it, right?

The crunching of gravel under Steve’s tires drew your attention to the little road that you’ve pulled off onto. You’ve never been here, but you recognized it from its infamy— Lover’s Lake, where all the couples used to come to get a little… privacy. Nobody came here anymore, though.

Not since the killings started.

Your tongue darted out to wet your dry lips nervously, and you felt your heart pounding in fear.

“Steve, is this a good idea?” you eked out, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and nibbling at the flesh nervously. Without even looking at you, Steve grasped your chin in his forefinger and eased your lip out from your teeth before running over it with his thumb.

He’s so good to you. He knew you so well. So why didn’t you feel safe right now?

But your stomach roiled when he sighed, clearly disappointed in you as he spared an irritated look before pulling the car to stop facing the lake. “Babe, I told you this already, remember? We can’t let the killer win. When we let them control us, let them make us afraid, they win.”

“But Steve, what if the killer shows up?”

“Hey,” he said, placing a warm hand on the back of your neck and letting his fingers press on your spine. “I’m here, baby. Now go get your cute ass in the backseat.” Steve laughed when you squeaked at the pat on your butt as you made your way to the backseat.

As you sat down, you couldn’t get over how… wrong it felt. Like the ghosts of the three girls that died here were watching you, telling you to get out of here. It was disrespectful at best, dangerous for a fact. But you didn’t have it in you to say no to Steve.

He settled next to you, slinging an arm over your shoulders as the two of you looked out to the lake. Your heart beat faster when his fingers toyed with the straps of your dress and bra, before he inched them off your shoulder.

“Oops,” he laughed. It sounded harsher than you were used to, and you couldn’t hold back your discomfort anymore. You turned to him, ready to voice your objections when he captured your lips with his own.

“Steve-”

“Shh, baby,” he interrupted you, pulling down your top entirely to expose your tits to him. He kneaded the flesh between his palms, groaning and watching your nipples peak in response to his ministrations. “God, you’re so pretty. So innocent. Knew you’d be the best girlfriend a fella could ever have.” The pride that swelled within you at his words squashed the discomfort within you, and you leaned in to kiss him with a smile.

You shut your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in his kisses as his hands wandered up and down your body. You didn’t object when he pulled your dress and bra off, pulled your panties off and laid you down on the leather seats of his car.

“You see how hard I am for you, baby?” Steve groans, grabbing your hand and putting it on his bulge as he rocked his clothed thigh against your bare core. Steve Rogers, the one guy that everyone wanted, the captain of the football team, the all-American golden boy wanted you.

Steve slid his jeans off, sitting in one of the seats as he pumped his shaft twice and pulled your hips between his legs, aligning your slick cunt with his tip and driving his hips up to inch into you. You stifled your discomfort, trying to hide your winces and the tears that sprung in your eyes as he eased into your tight hole. You couldn’t let him know that you were a virgin, what would he think?

But you knew when you met Steve’s wolfish gaze, it wasn’t something you could hide from him.

“Are you a virgin, baby?” He cooed at you, condescension lacing his tone. You nodded and shut your eyes, when the sound of the door opening forced your eyes open.

Bucky, Steve’s best friend, slid into the seat next to yours. “Getting started without me, huh, pal?” Steve laughed harshly at that, exposing your body for Bucky to see. Mortification sent blood rushing through your body but Steve didn’t seem to care as he squeezed and flicked your tits, continuing to fuck into you. “You gonna let me join in, Stevie?”

“Not this time,” Steve grunted, turning to Bucky as he used your body. “This one’s a virgin.”

“Lucky,” Bucky asserted, unbuckling and sliding his already-hard cock out from his jeans. “Spit,” he instructed you, putting his hand in front of your mouth then using it as lubrication to stroke himself as he watched Steve fuck you. “You wanna cry, baby?” he asked you as he watched you, noting the stiffness of your body. “Yeah, I bet it hurts. C’mon, then, cry.”

You let the tears flow freely from you as Steve picked up the pace, uncaring about your pain as he drove further into you. But it didn’t take long for the pain to shift to pleasure, the fullness from Steve making your head loll against his shoulder.

Bucky pulled you down to face his cock, surprising you as he sprayed his release on your face, almost making you cry again as his cum mixed with your lipstick. Inexplicably, though, it triggered that blissful feeling that you’ve only felt on your own, clenching tighter on Steve’s cock as your vision whited out.

“Shit, you like that?” Steve snickered, cumming into you as your body slacked. He pulled you off unceremoniously, swinging you into his arms only to dump your nude body in the passenger seat. “I gotta go piss,” he called out, slamming the door as Bucky trailed behind him.

Bored, you opened the glovebox in search of napkins to clean your face, but when your fingers brushed against dainty metal, your heart stuttered.

Inside Steve’s glovebox lay three bloodstained necklaces, ones that you knew belonged to the dead girls because you recognized each little pendant— Darla’s pink rhinestone, Charlotte’s teddy bear, Jeanie’s heart locket.

“You weren’t supposed to see that, sweetheart,” Steve said from behind you. You saw the blood from your neck spray onto the windshield before you got the chance to scream.

“That’s gonna be a pain to get out,” Bucky commented, before the darkness swallowed you whole.

#dark fic #dark!steve #dark!bucky #serial killer!steve #serial killer!bucky #scream inspired dark fic #boxofbonesfic friday the 13th challenge #horror au #moosereblogsfics' writings #dead dove do not eat #dark!stucky x reader

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yandere-fics · 1 month

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Also I gave thought to the Runa sisters thing. Currently my ideas are

1: horny bully sister getting angry at Runa because she's too overprotective, gets mad that Runa never lets you go on any dates. Possibly turns into a "can't you see how pent up I am??? Why won't you let me see anyone?! Do you wanna fuck your own sister or something???" Situation.

2: Desperate horny sister REALLY wants Runa to take advantage of her. Is way too shy to make the first move but is CONSTANTLY trying to make Runa snap. Wears really small pajamas around the house, moans when stretching, masturbates extra loud when she gets home. That kind of thing. Maybe play into how bad Runa feels about jumping her little sisters bones, how traumatised she must be after what she's doing to her, while you're just finally getting what you've always wanted.

-girlfailure

♡ Runa With A Pent Up Bully Sister ♡

"Runa, my date stood- oh for fucks sake!" You walked into your shared apartment with Runa only to see the girl you were SUPPOSED to go out with this afternoon tied to a chair in your living room and Runa prepared to dissect them alive. "Haven't you already killed enough this week or have you become so much of a freak you need even more to feel any joy in your sad pathetic miserable life!? I hate you so much!"

"B-baby sis! It wasn't my f-fault, that t-thing was going to h-hurt you!" She panicked as you stomped off towards your bedroom, following you and leaving the girl still tied up in the living room confused. She was shaking, how could you tell her you hated her, sure she'd killed at least ten people who you had tried to go on dates with this week but don't you see? She did it out of love, she's your protector, a good protector would never allow you to go on dates. "P-please take it back, y-you don't h-hate me, y-you're j-just too kind for your own g-good! Y-you don't u-understand that I-I'd do anything to protect you!"

"No you stupid bitch, I'm mad cause I want to get laid and you keep stopping me! It's like you want me to die a virgin!" She blushed trying her best to maintain composure but failed as soon as the next part came out of your mouth. "If I don't get laid soon I am going to fuck you Runa, is that what you want?? You're a freak who wants your sister to get so pent up, she fucks you!"

"O-okay, l-let's m-make l-love." She whimpered starting to strip her clothes off causing you to laugh hysterically. Her head darted up and tears welled in her eyes as you laughed at her.

"Oh my god, you're such a fucking dweeb. 'let's make love' what kind of fucking dweeb says shit like that. God you should count yourself lucky I'm still horny enough to fuck you even after you said that bullshit." You heard the person in the living room gasp through their gag and remembered your stupid bitch sister forgot to go finish them off. "Nevermind that cunt in the living room killed my mood, go kill them or something, maybe I'll be in the mood again when you finish with them."

You'd never seen Runa kill someone that fast before, it was kind of nice she desired you that much, too bad she was still such a stupid bitch, why couldn't a hot girl desire you, instead you were left with a serial killer. Oh well, you supposed at least you got laid at the end of the day.

#girlfailure anon #yandere oc #yandere lesbian #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere scenarios #yandere asks #my oc runa #tw.incest

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lindsaywesker · 1 year

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Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day. Welcome to Too Much Information Tuesday.

School doesn't test your intelligence, it tests your memory.

Venustraphobia is the fear of beautiful women.

A tiger’s tongue is so coarse, it can lick flesh to the bone.

People who get angry easily are more likely to overestimate their intelligence.

‘I’ before ‘E’ except when your foreign neighbour Keith receives eight counterfeit beige sleighs from weird, feisty, caffeinated weightlifters.

Not once in the Humpty Dumpty nursery rhyme does it mention that he’s an egg.

Nomophobia is the fear of being without your mobile phone or losing your signal.

Erotomania is a psychological disorder where the sufferer has delusions that another person is in love with him or her.

Some restaurants in China actually lace their foods with opiates to keep customers coming back.

Your mind spends about 70% of its time replaying memories and creating scenarios.

Instead of "Once upon a time …" many Korean folktales begin with "Back when tigers used to smoke ..."

In 2013, a man bought a house next to his ex-wife just to install a giant middle finger statue for her to see every day.

One Direction once got kicked out of a hotel owned by Donald Trump because they wouldn't get out of bed to meet his daughter.

You can't make the same mistake twice. The second time you make it, it's no longer a mistake, it's a choice.

Google makes about $40 billion a year in ad revenue, which is more than CBS, NBC, ABC, and FOX combined.

Gym treadmills and stationary bikes can have 7,752 times more bacteria than a home toilet seat.

Cannabinoids (the active ingredients in cannabis) are naturally present in human breast milk.

People who spend money on experiences rather than material items tend to be happier.

Men who ejaculate at least 21 times a month may have a 20% lower chance of getting prostate cancer than those who ejaculate 4 to 7 times a month. Crack on!

Membership of the Royal Bastards Society is open to anyone who can prove illegitimate descent from a king of England, Wales or Scotland.

On March 5th, 2023, Lynyrd Skynyrd guitarist Gary Rossington died. All seven members on the 1973 Lynyrd Skynyrd debut album are now dead.

In the eighties, the FBI formed a fake company and attempted to bribe members of congress. Close to 25% of those targeted accepted the bribe and were convicted.

The Monkees named their first movie ‘Head’ so that, if they ever released a second film, it could be marketed with the slogan, "From the guys who gave you Head."

The 'stitch' that runs along the bottom of a man's scrotum is the 'scar' of what would have been a vagina. That's where the labia fused together when male hormones kicked in during embryonic development.

Vincent Gigante was a mafia boss who, for 30 years, wandered Greenwich Village in his pyjamas mumbling incoherently to himself, in an elaborate act to avoid prosecution. They called him The Oddfather.

The small Peruvian town of Santo Tomas celebrates ‘Takanakuy’ every December 25th. Men, women and children settle grudges with fist fights. Then everyone goes drinking together, ready to start the new year with a clean slate.

On March 13th, 1919, a letter from a New Orleans serial killer said he would kill again at 15 minutes past midnight but would spare the occupants of any place where a jazz band was playing. That night, every dance hall was filled to capacity and no one was murdered.

During the early 1960s, a chimpanzee named Lucy was raised as if she were a human daughter by a psychotherapist and his wife. She ate food using cutlery, wore clothes, enjoyed magazines, enjoyed drinking gin, could sign 250 words and tried to masturbate with a vacuum cleaner.

In 1913, Sarah Rector, a 10-year-old black girl received a land allotment of 160 acres in Oklahoma. The best farming land was reserved for whites, so she was given a barren plot. Oil was soon discovered there and she became the country's first black millionaire.

Okay, that’s enough information for one day. Have a tremendous and tumultuous Tuesday! I love you all.

#mixcloud #mi soul #dj #music #new blog #lockdown #coronavirus #books #democracy #brexit #cronyism #election #tuesdaymotivation #radio

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cannibalcreeps · 2 years

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Any NSFW headcannons for Deacon? 👀

Heehuehue Always~ Though this is really a guessing game for me too, I only have so much about this man that I'm just throwing out what I think may work with Deacon xD

Uncut and thick bush, though definitely stinks, man wont know what hygiene even is, mostly since he's definitely not taught it and never given any experience on why he needs it. Got an average dick in length and thickness, not a monster like most slashers out there but does it's job.

Inexperienced but a go getter, the type of guy to try and kiss you fully opened mouth and tongue out so definitely needs some help. But perfect for eating you the fuck out and has a gorilla grip on those thighs so you can't escape.

At the beginning he'd be very vanilla, just sticking with plain old doggy or missionary, but with some guidance and experience he grows to have a thing for bondage, foreplay or roleplay, but this is more just following what his partner wants from him, with how suppressed he has been, it is better he doesn't take control.

Serial masturbator, man has been having to find ways to sexually relieve himself in secret for years. A master of being quiet and quick from fear of being caught, a bit of a downfall if you want him to be loud and keep at it for long periods of time. Though his pent up sexual needs will make those quick fuck sessions turn into minutes to even hours of aggressive rough fucking, but he'll still keep quiet it will take a long time for him to be comfortable enough to let out a groan.

First time he got sucked off, Deacon saw white spots and almost passed out during the middle of it. Knuckles went white as bone and face crazy red, the amount of cum that spewed out of him got the person choking and he would have worried if he wasn't just laying there for a solid good few minutes with his brain fuzzed up like static tv.

The idea of having sex outside the house makes him nervous, though it definitely sounds exciting and he definitely wants to just rawdog you into the dirt or against a tree, but the fear of being caught, even if his father is dead, and the amount of 'God is watching' quotes bashed into his head would makes him stress too much.

Very much a cuddle-bug, the kind to have all his limbs wrapped around your body, face pressed against your neck or chest. Either naked or clothed, though he will grind and hump against you during the night and will wake up with dried up cum on your hip or leg

He is very much a tiddies man, all types of boobs as well he's not picky. Give him those huge honkers or small peekers he's placing his mouth over all of them, he definitely enjoys just putting his mouth all over his partner.

Won't say no if you're into blood or knife play, he doesn't have the kink himself but finds it pleasurable when enacting or receiving, finding the cold blade of a knife running against his skin relieving. Will only do it if you ask and wont seek it out himself as he's already got so many things he wants you to suggest to him for you two to try out.

#also this is like after-movie Deacon as I just don't want him having his shitty ass sister and father in his life anymore #he can be freeeeee finally free #finally getting some of these answered ahahaaaaaaaaaa

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sailsinstorms · 1 year

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Legacy of the Girls - Part 1

This is just a little story, not really a legacy to be honest, but just a cute way for me to get back into playing the Sims 4. It's been so long! And I do love legacies, but I also like doing my own thing as well.

Legacy of the Girls follows 5 female sims and I'll probably play them until they all settle down and move out to start their own families. I'll give them most of their autonomy, but I'll also be trying to achieve their aspirations.

So I think it would be best to introduce the girls first. They're actually shaping up to be interesting people.

This is Radley Mulligan. She's a vegetarian who's a little mean and a little gloomy. Haha. I randomized all of their traits. It's more interesting that way. Her aspiration is Freelance Botanist though — so all of those mischief/mean interactions are counteracted by her devotion to the environment. I guess?

And this is Winter Lourdez. The sweetest Sim I know. Her aspiration is Friend of the Animals because she's an animal enthusiast. And she's also an ambitious perfectionist. Not a bad bone in her body. I also had her join the medicine career because it just seemed fitting.

This is Molly Rozee (pronounced Roh-see). She looks super sweet with that pale-ass adorable face but her aspiration is to be Chief of Mischief and she's super dastardly. Girl just wants me to install extreme violence but it's not happening. Other than that she's super cheerful, noncommittal, and likes music.

This is Solar Matsumoto. She's the oldest (I don't know how that turned out but her birthday is first) she's jealous, she's gloomy, and she's got an aspiration for Extreme Sports. I think that one will be hard for me to fulfill. Eesh. She was supposed to be the edgy one — but she so isn't. Lol! Oh, she's also a Child of the Ocean, so I guess I'll have to take her on vacation a lot.

And last but not least we have Loren Starling! Loren is…well, Loren. She's outgoing, she's erratic, and she's an alluring Serial Romantic. This girl was away with the fairies from day one. It was so hard for me to get a decent head shot of her I had to wait until after I'd built the damn lot. She was always pulling these stupid faces…

My God Loren.

This is the lot that I built for them. There's like no custom content. It's just a nice big house. All the bedrooms are on the second floor, so most of their day to day activities happen on the first. 5 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, big open plan kitchen and living. I still made it look as homey as I could. I'm not a build designer or anything like that. It's functional.

Since I started playing so late, all the girls went to bed as soon as I hit play. Except one...

Loren decided the first thing she was going to do in her new home was watch some gay porn and masturbate. Yep. You really showed me exactly who you are, Loren! Lol. Thank you wicked whims for this. Is this wicked whims? I assume it's wicked whims. I couldn't believe it. I mean in hindsight I'm really not surprised.

Is that Brokeback Mountain?

Finally, all my girls asleep.

Actually, as fitting for her personality, Molly chose the biggest bedroom for herself (the pink room with the mirror and dresser). She probably made some threats under her breath as they were all walking upstairs. I wouldn't put it past her.

Winter was the first one awake in the morning. She still looks tired. Poor thing. It's probably because her room is located right above the living room and Loren was…well…we know, but maybe Winter doesn't know.

Winter: *wants to make breakfast, but doesn't know what to do with ingredients and chopping boards* Also Winter: *admires the pretty flowers instead of using the bathroom*

Molly over here was obviously given a job in the criminal field. I think she's going to like it.

Molly: This is how you cook a breakfast,bitch. The ingredients go in the pan. Winter: *nothing but thankful for the tips*

Winter: You know what we could have for breakfast. Cheese and wine! We're adults, let's live a little! Molly: You are absolute trash

(Please excuse the plumbobs. I did get better at taking photos after this travesty of a beginning.)

Radley: Just letting you know I'm vegetarian so there better not be any crabs in that there breakfast. No crabs, right? Molly: *absolutely done with the entire household in the space of 5 minutes*

Body language says it all.

Radley was given an environmental conservation job I think. I can't remember the exact title but it's definitely something she'd enjoy. It's a shame none of the girls have to go to work for like 2 days though.

When Loren finally wandered down for breakfast I decided she could have a job in the acting career. I thought it would be something different — and she'd either sink or swim at it. Or potentially be really good! Or maybe just quit eventually and do porn. So we've got:

Winter: Nurse Molly: Thief? Solar: Teacher Loren: Wannabe Actress Radley: Eco Warrior

I think that's a nice mix.

Whatever it is Solar is eating, it actually looks so delicious. Avocado sushi roll?

It's been a really lovely morning of the girls just hanging out and getting to know one another. I thought having a mean sim and a dastardly sim in the house would end with everyone crying in their bedrooms (haha!) but they're actually getting along. Who would have thought!

Wait, where's Loren?

Loren: I'm over here being perfectly delightful playing some games. You don't have to worry about me! *innocent smile*

But I do Loren... but I do...

Oh no, Radley! I can't have one of you die on day 1! This isn't a survivalist legacy! Stop, drop and roll! STOP, DROP AND ROLL!

Molly gets the credit for putting out Radley, but Winter helped too even if she was blocked by the counter! Thank God those two didn't freak out otherwise Radley would be a pile of ash on the floor right now.

Molly looks so damn cool putting out that fire in her nightdress. Like, damn. She is focused.

Molly: You're not needed. Firefighter: I'll let myself out...

This was Radley's emote after almost burning to death! #cookingmemories <3 "Oh my word, Radley, remember that time you almost burned to death and Molly saved you? Wow, good times! It was so funny! <3" I can't! This is the cutest thing ever! I want to cry!

On the other hand both Molly and Winter were feeling super confident for putting her out. That is so cute!

Meanwhile Solar and Loren had freaked out and literally evacuated the building thinking the whole thing would go up in flames. Wow, guys. Real heroic of you. Solar seems super upset by the whole experience. Poor baby. It's gonna be okay! Do you really think I'd let one of you die so easily?

Click next to keep on reading :)

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softly-savage-mint-yoongi · 2 years

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Spookinktober 2021 Day 29

Welcome to Softly Savage Mint Yoongi’s week of spooky and sexy stories to count down the last week of the best month of the year! Please enjoy these seven stories, about a zombie, a vampire, a witch and her familiar, a werewolf, a serial killer, a grim reaper, and a monster hunter- respectively. Each story is standalone, so you may read them however you like, and remember to stay scary, and sexy. ;) Spookinktober 2021 Day 29 Pairing: Jaehyun x f.reader Spooks: Grim reapers, ghosts. Talk of the afterlife, and non-descriptive death. Bigtime gothic love story vibes. Kinks: Lingerie kink, masturbation, brief mention of mutual masturbation. Voyeuristic tendencies. Cunnilingus and unprotected sex. Slow burn. Words: 4k

October. A month you loved with all your heart. For the crisp weather and crunching leaves. For heavier darkness and implications of witchcraft and immortal monsters that go bump in the night. For the incessant delights of horror flicks and bizarre costumes and that moment where you felt less like a stranger in your own life and more like you belonged. Your curiosities and desire for the season lived year-round in your bones, and your favorite tube of black lipsticks garnered the eyes of everyone every time you puckered up, like some odd creature to be viewed in a museum. So for just one month of the year, the weight of your difference to the mundane people around you eased just enough for you to breathe. Otherwise, your life was quite boring and sad. There were no friends you wished to have, no parents who cared to be anywhere near you as you wandered your family home as if you were a ghost haunting the residence. Sure, they paid the bills and anything else you could have ever wanted for, but their business lies all across the globe, and they’d never been interested in the worries or inspirations of their only child. You spent your days painting, all things so easily broken and dead, like flowers or human hearts, sometimes in the same painting. In all of your works, the visuals that you brought to life headline the same theme- that all living things are fragile. Most of your nights were spent in your bedroom and your closet, trying on your favorite things or creating new looks that fit your style. Lately, you had taken to purchasing lingerie. It was only natural, given the element of it among gothic beauty and your desire to be beautiful. Your desire to be looked at with awe and ethereal wonder rather than crude entertainment and disdain. It worked well, you thought, making you believe the woman staring back at you from the full-length mirror in your closet was just that. Not bland or odd in the slightest. She was beautiful and powerful and the intricate and delicate fabrics that brushed her skin were the toughest armor in the universe. You had looked and admired yourself until a wailing child full of emotional heartbreak pulled your attention to the window, and you leaned out to see a young boy, your neighbor, and his parents. His father carried a small dog in his arms as they made their way to the backyard. It must have been its time. Movement from the other side of the yard called your attention and you blinked, unsure if you actually saw what you thought you did. A young man, perhaps your age, dressed in all black, with dark blue hair slicked back over his forehead, save for one strand. His eyes were sad, watching the family as they lay the body of their pet to rest. At the man’s feet was a familiar shape, with curly fur, four legs, and a tail. It, too, watched the family with sad eyes. When you looked back to the man’s face, he was staring up at you from the corner of the yard, perplexed. Your eyes locked with his large ones briefly and it made you dizzy. You stood up from the window, gripping the window frame in one hand and your head with the other- uncaring about your state of delicate dress. Surely the family was too preoccupied with their grief to look up and see you attending the funeral viewing. After the wave of...whatever that was… passed, you looked back out to the corner of the yard, but the man and the spirit were both gone. You were a believer in the supernatural, but not some fanatic. Simply that there were things out there, and you respected that they exist, accepting to gaze upon them by happenstance, and let them be. You don’t remember when you fell into your bed that first night, wearing your black lace babydoll and floor-length silk robe, loosely tied around your waist. You don’t remember anything, except dreaming of the man in the corner of the yard. Of his large eyes curiously watching you as you moved about your life. You woke with a sense of familiarity when you thought about him, but condemned the strange fluttering of your heart as nothing more than an aftereffect of the

dream. Three days passed before you dreamt of him again. You went to bed wearing a piece made of silk with straps crossing your chest, ribs, and tops of your thighs- a pair of fitted fishnet leggings under it. You remembered wearing the same thing in your dream. There was no embarrassment or wave of power when your eyes met, and the way he looked upon you was of nothing but curiosity. “You saw me,” was the first thing he said to you. You liked the sound of his voice, it was soothing and calm. “Yes,” you had replied, gazing just as curiously at him, still wearing his crisp black suit. “How could you see me?” he pondered, and it was at that moment you realized you were in your room with him. He was sitting at the end of your bed. Were you really just dreaming? You’re not sure how to answer the question, “I don’t know, I just did. Should I not have been able to?” He shook his head, his eyes flickering over the things you keep in your room with mild interest, “Certainly not. Humans shouldn’t see grim reapers until they are passing to the afterlife.” You nodded, accepting if it were the truth, “Am I dead?” The grim reaper, as you now knew him by, smiled just a little at your question, shaking his head, “Not yet.” “I see,” came your automatic reply. “Then how am I seeing you right now?” He stood, gesturing around your room and looking over the trinkets on your shelf with his hands politely behind his back. “You’re dreaming.” You were so confused, “What does that have to do with it?” He laughed quietly, a simple sound from his throat that made your heart flip in your chest. “How do humans see or hear their deceased loved ones in their dreams?” His brow arched as he asked you, returning to sit on your bed, “The veil between life and death is the thinnest in your dreams.” He smiled again, at some inside joke, “That, and I have a particular ability. All grim reapers do, but mine is especially powerful here.” Your head tilted, wondering, “What exactly is it?” The grim reaper beside you smiled further, almost proud if you had to guess, “I can influence dreams. Make humans feel, hear, smell, taste things. It’s not outright manipulation, but I can help their drifting minds along or encourage a different path altogether.” That had been the end of the conversation that you could recall, and you had been angry when you regained consciousness that morning. What a cliffhanger. Even more surprising was your interest in knowing more about him- he was fascinating to you. As if you were just cracking open a new mystery novel and some force was keeping you from turning the next page to keep reading. Exciting, thought-provoking, and utterly frustrating. More time had passed. All you could think about for days was the conversation with the pleasant and handsome man in your dreams. You were inspired by him, and your paintings had taken a turn for something deeper. Dreamscapes and the night sky, of a faceless man in a black suit. Of navy hair being gripped in a woman’s hand, intimate, dark, and suggestive. You’d been surprised at yourself when you’d finished that piece. You leaned back from the easel, brush in hand paused midair, and looked around the room. You had no idea what had come over you and no matter how hard you tried, you don’t remember actually painting it. Surely enough your palette’s swirls and strokes of color matched the piece before you. Your back ached from holding the position and your hand brandished the same colors in small smudges, smears,, and flecks of dried paint. Your brush was still in your hand, wet with the deepest shade of navy blue. Navy, a pretty color. You found yourself smiling when you’d opened your most recent package. Three new lingerie pieces, two purchased specifically because of that color. It had been new, this feeling of desire for someone else. You hardly knew him, but the way he looked at you without disdain or misunderstanding drew you to him. Drawn to the conclusion that he stirred something in you. Something that made you feel pretty and wanted, although he’d never shown any signs

of desire himself. You wanted to show off, and to have him keep looking at you in your pretty lingerie in your dreams. “Do you have a name?” you had asked the next time you saw him. Still in your bedroom, still wearing that black suit. “Could I know it?” He mulled it over for a few seconds, pursing his lips and looking around the room. Eventually, he turned back to you, “You can call me Jaehyun.” It wasn’t lost on you that this may be a moniker or a fake name or a name that means something else entirely, but if it was what he wanted you to call him then who were you to deny him? Understand that dreams are strange. You could go from one place to another in the span of seconds and not know how you got there. Although your memory may have lapsed between two points, you could still remember the sense of fondness with Jaehyun. The growing feelings that remained. As if to tell something tangible happened between points A and B. Something suddenly broke inside of you, sending you over the precipice of bliss and you woke with a choked moan. A slight alarm and desperation for breath as you blinked away the wetness at the corner of your eyes. You couldn’t remember what you were dreaming about exactly that would cause such a forceful orgasm to pull you from unconsciousness. You don’t remember touching yourself at all last night, but sure enough there was a patch of your sticky essence against the fabric of your lace panties. Showering immediately after, you were too wound up, still aching for something to fill you. As if in a trance, or some kind of heat, you’d touched yourself in the shower, and again on your bed at the sight of the painting of the woman’s hand in the blue hair. Jaehyun’s hair, you’d wondered, falling over the edge of your pleasure to the thought of it being your hand holding his mouth against your core in that painting. There was a large part of you that was nervous to go to sleep that night, wondering if he had, or was even able to see any of your pleasurable experiences. If he knew you wanted him. A smug, knowing grin had been plastered on his face when he had appeared beside you on your bed. “You’re looking radiant this evening.” An embarrassed groan left your lips as you hid your face in your hands, “Shut up, I do not.” Jaehyun chuckled softly, pulling your hands away from your face. He held them, and it was the first time you could actually remember him making physical contact. “Of course you do,” he corrected, “Your outfits always make you look," he pauses, lifting a single brow to make a show of his eyes moving up and down your body, "stunning.” The confirmation of his appreciation for your lingerie was not lost on you, and it heated your cheeks as he said so. “Did you see?” you asked, desperate to know and get the humiliation of it over with so you could move past it. Jaehyun smiled, keeping one of your hands in his while bringing the other to your chin and dragging you forward. He stopped just an inch from his own face, your breath falling across his lips as he smiled at you, “I saw.” Then, he let you go and leaned back into his sitting position. “Tell me, is there another?” His question couldn’t possibly have been what you thought. “Another what?” A smile crossed his lips as he lifted a finger to rub it along his bottom lip, eyes on the floor. Then, the hand that kept yours was tugging you forward until you were leaning against him. Both of his arms were wrapped around you, his lips ghosting over your ear. You remember him being warm and solid, and an obvious bulge pressing into your hip where it landed between his thighs, “Is there someone else you think about when you touch yourself?” Your sharp gasp is all the answer he needed, but he pressed you further, “Or is it your hand in my hair that you painted so suggestively?” A whine left your lips, pressing against him to sit up straight and look him in the eye, “I’m sorry.” you apologized. Jaehyun looked at you, taken aback by your apology. He blinked twice in succession, “What are you sorry for?” Your throat was dry, “For

making you uncomfortable.” There had been a deep-rooted irony in that statement. It was the first time you ever felt shameful. It was strange to feel the need to say that particular sentence, having spent your life being entirely authentic- much to other people’s discomfort. This was the first time you cared enough for someone to consider it. Jaehyun laughed, raising his brows, “I’m rock hard and you think the idea of you wanting me is uncomfortable or unwelcome?” You shook your head at him, “No,” you start, gesturing around, “But doesn’t it feel too sudden? I mean, it doesn’t feel wrong, but I don’t want you to think I’m so easily swayed. It feels like we’ve known each other for months, not two weeks.” The grim reaper smiled, lifting your chin from the floor with his fingertips. “I know, and I don’t think it feels too sudden. Just because you might not remember how much time we’ve been spending together doesn’t mean it wasn’t real. Time flows much slower when we’re here.” There was a tinge of sadness in his statement, and it made your heart ache, “That doesn’t bother you? That I don’t always remember?” It didn’t help that he insinuated that to him it may have actually been months. He smiled at you again, pulling you closer across the bed once more, “You’re the first and only person who has ever remembered me at all. Let alone be able to see me while they are alive.” His cheek, warm and soft, nuzzled your hair as he cradled you to him, “It doesn’t bother me as long as it doesn’t bother you. What is important is that you seem to remember how I make you feel. I can tell I’m more than just desire to you.” The next morning you had woken up and remembered the way his lips had felt on your own as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, poking at the flesh. You’d begun painting his face that day. It wasn’t a project you wanted to rush through, delicately painting the exact shade of his skin and the perfect angle of the inner corner of his eyes. Nearly black in color, but quite actually the deepest shade of brown. Hours had passed that way until you were too spun up in the feel of the rest of him against you in your dreams. Of the way he had gripped your body to him tightly, grinding himself into your barely covered core and simply made out with you until you woke up, breathy, desperate, and wet. Perhaps that provocative painting of the hand had been a foreshadowing of some sort. The pleasant buzz along your skin made you shiver as you went about the next two days in a state of near undress. Loving the idea of his eyes roaming your figure secretly even though you couldn’t see him. You knew he was watching, imagining him standing directly beside you with his own length in hand when you laid in bed and put on a show just for him at night. Strings of curses leaving your lips, mixed with his name as you brought yourself to a high again and again. You painted while wearing nothing more than a black bodysuit the first day, and the sexiest dress you owned the next. It was your favorite piece, made of straps and netting that had a long skirt with a slit from hip to floor on both sides. The way the lines followed the shape of your body was one you had a hard time pulling your eyes away from. Surely Jaehyun would be finding it just as difficult to pay attention to anything except you. You had been correct in the assumption, and the moment he appeared in your dream he was whipping his jacket from his shoulders and pulling off his tie. He had pushed you down into your pillows immediately, focused on prying your mouth open with his tongue and slotting his hips against yours. His tie came in handy, using it to keep your hands locked above your head while he gave you a show in unbuttoning his dress shirt and then his belt. Teasing you in the way you had done to him by wearing nothing but these pretty little garments all day long and fucking yourself on woefully inadequate fingers at night, wishing it were him. He needed you to feel what it did to him, and waiting until you were sleeping deeply enough to meet him was

agonizingly terrible. Much to your delight, he ripped the fabric of your panties, but you couldn’t find it in you to care less. The action sent arousal straight to your core, and your lover did not stop his ministrations until your hand was freed to tangle in his hair while he licked every drop from you. Your eyes met briefly, knowing about this familiar scene and the way your black painted fingernails caressed the back of his head. Ignoring the fact that you never had any actual partners and have never had a warm tongue between your legs, you knew he was gifted. All of him, between his mouth and his fingers- finally filling you a little deeper and thicker than your own as he curled them- tapping a spot that had you shattering around him in no time at all. He had been patient and kind in his kisses and generous in his desire to give your pleasure over his, no matter how aching and swollen his stiffened cock was between his legs, pressed into the mattress. But you, sweet and kind and just as hungry, sunk to your knees for him just the same. Jaehyun never wanted to forget the sight of your lips, painted perfectly black as if to match his own aesthetic, plump and soft and wet as they worked over his length. You had him tortured for days, and finally feeling you touching him had been so much more intense than he could have imagined. An exciting kind of rush hit you the next morning when you undressed to shower and noticed that your panties were ripped. Exactly how they had been ripped in your dream. It happened again two weeks later when he had been gone from your slumber for an entire week and you had fallen into despair. When, after reuniting, his grip and his thrusts into you had been particularly rough. You were not able to get enough of him as you surrendered to his lips and his love bites, sucking and biting small purple petals into your skin wherever he pleased. In the mirror the next day, those same marks very much existed, as did the sore aching of your abused cunt. By the time Halloween had come and gone and November was well off to its holiday bustle, you and Jaehyun had fucked on every possible surface of your dream home. He had filled you in more ways than you thought possible- least of all your heart. But then, days got busy, nights a little more sleepless as your seasonal affectiveness swung hard for you. Jaehyun had only been able to meet you twice, due to his schedule becoming busier than usual and your own restlessness. All you wanted was to see him. To talk to him and be held by him, much the same as you wanted to hold him, too, and take away the loneliness you both felt. For days... like this, you waited. All you wanted was to see him. Here you are, seeing him standing before you at long last. You could cry with relief at finally being with him, at being able to touch him again as your fingers find his and twine them together. Jaehyun looks at you from his place there beside your bed- shoulders slumped. He looks sad, and you stand to hug him when he makes no move to sit with you. “What’s the matter?” you ask quietly, running your palm over his back. His eyes find yours and there are tears brimming them. He brings a single white rose from behind his back, leaning forward to place it on the bed just as you watch the first tear fall down his cheek. His chest wracks with a sob, held back by the seal of his lips as more tears flow from his eyes. You’re alarmed at his display, his heart weeping for something. For someone, you notice, when you turn to find another version of yourself lying on your bed. Her hair fans her head and her eyes are closed, lips parted just so as if she were sleeping. But her chest doesn’t move, nor does her skin hold the gentle glow of blood moving in her veins. Your lover’s rose lays in the lifeless palm of her hand. “Jaehyun,” you console, a little out of sorts until you feel him wrap his arms around you completely and crush you to his chest as he cries silently with his cheek pressed to the top of your head. “You died,” he chokes, saddened and heartbroken. To be

honest, you don’t feel all that upset about it. Jaehyun had been the one thing in your life worth living for, and he wasn’t part of the living. The way you see it, now you will get to be with him. “Why are you so upset? We can be together now.” He sniffles, pulling a ragged breath into his lungs, “Still,” he murmurs, “A life ended. The loved ones of that person will grieve, and I am no exception to that.” Your head lifts to see his face and he kisses you sweetly, sadly, and so tenderly that it breaks your heart. He loves you. The weight of the pain in his voice hurts most of all. Taking his hand, you pull him out of the room, “Come here.” You pad to the opposite end of the hall, taking note of the way neither his presence nor yours disturbs anything. No shadows, no sounds of your weight passing along the old floorboards or opening the door, even though you grip it in your palm and twist the handle. It swings open for you without a single sound. You weren’t sure if Jaehyun had seen these paintings. You doubted he had since he was too busy to even come to meet you until now. He cries a little harder when he lays eyes upon them, and you lean up to kiss the grief from his lips. “Now you know that you are worth dying for,” you convey, squeezing his hand tighter. It’s three days before Christmas when your parents find your body, having come home for the holiday to be with their daughter. They’re inconsolable, but you’re not there to see it. The only remnants of your human life are that of a pair of portraits, the last that you had painted before your easy death. One of a man in a crisp black suit jacket with navy hair and kind brown eyes looking to the left with a smile while the other painting, a self-portrait, smiles prettily to the man on her right.

#Jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut #nct x reader #nct smut #jaehyun fic #nct fic #nct fanfiction #jaehyun #jaehyun fanfiction

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somethingthatsaysbubbles · 3 years

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THE RIPPING CASE OF MS. DELIA RODWICK — Masterpost

SUMMARY: In an effort to solve the murder of several New York prostitutes, Dr. Laszlo Kreizler finds himself receiving a private dance from Bellerose’s most popular burlesque dancer. [This series takes place between Seasons 1 and 2 of The Alienist.]

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY. Spoilers for Seasons 1 and 2 of The Alienist. Rated E for Explicit Sexual Content. Rated M for Meat and Mature Themes. Smut. Sex. Oral Sex (Laszlo Receiving). Oral Sex (Reader Receiving). Vaginal Fingering. Penetrative Sex (Penis in Vagina). Unprotected Sex. Dom!Reader. Sub!Laszlo. Possessive Language. Explicit and Enthusiastic Consent. Edging. Orgasm Denial. Body Worship. Breast Kink. Self-Degradation. Praise Kink. Size Kink. Minor Creampie/Breeding Kink. Foot Kissing. Discussions of Sexual Experience/Inexperience. Aftercare. Love Marks/Hickies. Discussions of Marriage/Courting. Smoking. Drinking/Alcoholism. Choking (The Non-Sexual Kind). Nonconsensual Touches/Workplace Harassment. Undressing. Nudity. Explicit Descriptions of Arousal/Genitalia. Masturbation/Mentions of Masturbation. Graphic Descriptions of Gore and Violence. Murder/Serial Murder. Corpses. Death. Crime Scenes. Blood. Mentions of Prostitution and Sex Worker Prejudice. Violence Against Women/Sex Workers. Mentions of Domestic Violence/Child Abuse. Discussions of Childhood Trauma. Discussions of Religious Hypocrisy. Bible Verses and Churches. Canonical Disability. Mentions of Abortion, Stillbirth/Pregnancy Complications, and Coma. Loss of Family. Kidnapping. Grief. Fear. Fire. Eviction. Angst. Fluff. Letter from A Serial Killer. Malicious Evangelicalism/Catholicism/Religion. Explicit Discussions/Descriptions of Murder and Serial Murder from Perspective of Serial Murderer. Scenes of Explicit Torture. Bondage and Gagging (Non-Sexual). Broken Bones/Extreme Bodily Harm. Implied Nonconsensual Voyeurism. Stalking. Knives/Pliers. Denailing/Nail Removal. Stabbing. Guns and Gunshot Wounds. Hospitals, Doctors, and Nurses. Morphine/Prescription Drug Use. Mentions of Autopsy. Hurt and Comfort. Happy Ending.

Word Count: ~35K

Fandom: The Alienist

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x AFAB GN!Reader

A/N: Completed Work! The reader in this story is gender neutral (They/Them), and there is no use of binary, gendered language—such as “woman,” “man,” ��Miss,” “Mister,” “female,” or “male”— in reference to them. However, the reader has breasts and a vagina because that is what I—as a nonbinary, AFAB author—am most comfortable writing. The reader regularly switches between wearing period-accurate, assumed-feminine clothing and period-accurate, assumed-masculine clothing. I apologize for any historical inaccuracies. If you catch a typo or would like to be added to the taglist, let me know. Lastly, a huge shoutout to @bruhlsbees for reading as I wrote. Your love and support kept me going.

TAGLIST: @scuttle-buttle @bruhlsbees @apparrio @livvyshmiv @ajeff855 @imalsonotsure @bubblegum28universe @frozenhuntress67 @uncomfortablebagel @janine-007

Chapters:

The Water Lily Room

Above the Vaulted Sky

It’s Cold Outside

I’ll Wait For You

Exquisite

Is Love’s Bed Always Snow?

I’m Here

Una Furtiva Lagrima

Eternally Yours

This, and My Heart Beside

Extras:

Chapter 1: Sneak Peak

Memes

Read it on AO3!

#The Alienist #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler x you #dr laszlo kreizler #laszlo kriezler x reader #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler imagine #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #gender neutral fanfic #gender neutral reader #afab #reader insert

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dauntingatdusk · 3 years

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Jeffrey Dahmer - The Milwaukee Cannibal (pt.2)

DAVID THOMAS (23) – September 24 1990

David Thomas aged 24 was murdered and dismembered by Dahmer. Dahmer begins to take photographs as he dismembers the body and while the murder is in progress.

CURTIS STRAUGHTER (19) – February 18, 1991

Curtis Straughter engaged in oral sex with Dahmer, he is later murdered and dismembered. His bones were crushed but Dahmer kept his skull.

ERROL LINDSEY (19) – April 7 1991

Errol Lindsey is drugged and strangled by Dahmer before he is used to perform oral sex. Again Dahmer dismembers his body and keeps the skull.

ANTHONY HUGHES (31) – May 24 1991

Anthony Hughes, who is deaf and mute, is passed a note from Dahmer at a club. In Dahmer’s usual routine he invites him back to his place for photos. Dahmer murders Hughes and dismembers him, keeping his skull also. However before Dahmer dismembered the corpse he left the body lying around the apartment.

KONERAK SINTHASOMPHONE (14) May 26 1991

Konerak Sinthasomphone is offered money from Dahmer, and he follows him back to his place. Dahmer drugs the child and assaults him while he is unconscious. Dahmer experimented on Konerak also, drilling into the back of his skull and injecting hydrochloric acid. He did this in attempt to cfeate a “zombie” that he could have complete control of. At some point Dahmer leaves the apartment and Konerak stumbles from the building. He is spotted, bleeding from his anus, by two girls who call the police. The police investigate while Dahmer returns and explains that the child is actually his 19 year old lover. The police leave without any further investigation and Konerak is later murdered and dismembered. Dahmer also kept his skull. If the last name sounds familiar he is the brother of the 13 year old Laotian who got away from him.

MATT TURNER (20) – June 30 1991

At a gay pride parade young Matt Turner meets Dahmer. Turner would become another victim of Dahmer’s and his skull is placed in the freezer. His body is also one that Dahmer left lying around his apartment as he was dismembered.

JEREMIAH WEINBERGER (23) July 5 1991

Weinberger and Dahmer meet at a nightclub and Jeremiah actually spends the entire night at Dahmer’s apartment. When he requests to leave the next morning Dahmer became enraged and treats him not unlike Konerak. Dahmer uses boiling water in place of hydrochloric acid. Turner was left in a coma like state for two days. Dahmer would later strangle him. Weinberger was dismembered and his head was placed in the freezer alongside Matt Turner.

OLIVER LACY (23) July 15 1991

Lacy spends some time with Dahmer at his apartment engaging in consensual sexual activity. As he had done with his previous victims Dahmer drugs Lacy and murders him once he is unconscious. Lacy is dismembered and both his heart and head are placed inside Dahmer’s fridge.

JOSEPH BRADEHOFT (25) July 19 1991

Bradehoft becomes Dahmer’s last murder. The two men have consensual sex at the apartment before Bradehoft is drugged and murdered. He is dismembered with his head and torso being placed in the freezer. His other remains however were placed in a large barrel of acid that Dahmer had purchased in Early July.

TRACY EDWARDS (31) July 24 1991

Tracy Edwards is the last man who Dahmer brought back to his apartment. Tracy was given a cocktail to make him drowsy. Dahmer tried to sexually assault Tracy. Tracy had began to struggle when Dahmer put a handcuff on his right arm. As Dahmer reached for a knife Tracy ran for the unlocked door. Dahmer attempted to pull the man back inside and a brawl broke out. Tracy hit Dahmer on the side of the head which knocked him to the floor. Edwards escaped and ran into the street where he was able to flag down a patrol car. The Police returned to Dahmers apartment and began their investigation. Police found photos of various states of dismemberment, a severed head on the ground, the fridge and freezer containing a heart, flesh, and a portion of muscle. The freezer contained 3 heads, a human torso, a bag containing more flesh and internal organs. The cupboard contained various chemicals and 2 bleached skulls. Also on the floor was a large kettle holding 2 hands and set of genitals. Police found 3 more skulls in a filing cabinet. The wardrobe was opened to show a complete skeleton, dried human scalp, and more genitals. In a small box they found 2 more skulls and next to the box was a 260 litre vat containing acid. Inside the acid police found 3 human torsos in various stages of decomposition. Dahmer is arrested.

AFTER ARREST

Dahmer is charged with four counts of homicide, from the evidence police find in his home. Dahmer admits that his crimes were wrong and did not shift blame. His bail was set for 1 million dollars. On January 13 1992, Dahmer changes his plea from innocent, to guilty with an insane defense. While Dahmer admitted to killing the fifteen identified victims he continued with his defense that he suffered a mental disease and as such should not be held responsible. On February 15 of the same year Dahmer is found guilty of 15 counts of murder and sentenced to 941 years in Jail.

DEATH

On November 28 1994 Dahmer is sexually assaulted and murdered in prison by Christopher Scarver at age 34. Scarver was a convicted murderer. Dahmers body was cremated, per his request, and his ashes were split among his parents. After Death in December 1995 a judge ordered the cremation of Dahmer’s brain, which had been preserved at the request of Dahmers mother who hoped to have it studied. Joyce hoped that studying the brain would determine whether or not biological factors were behind her sons behaviour. However, Lionel sought out the cremation because that is what Dahmer requested.

PYSCHOLOGY

Conditions: Necrophilia: Lionel Dahmer noticed four year old Jefferys fascination with animal bones collected from beneath the family home. Dahmer also collected dead animals from the sides of roads. Dahmer however did not enjoy the act of killing animals, a big difference from most seriall killers in their youth. He merely was fascinated by their bodies. In High School Dahmers interest would persevere. It is believed that this fascination grew into something erotic in adolescence. Dahmer would gain another obsession at this age: compulsive masturbation. His two biggest interests would slowly began to coincide. Dahmer found the warmth from a recently deceased body arousing, however similiary to how Dahmer took no joy in the killing of animals, Dahmer claims to not be a sexual sadist. He states that he derived no pleasure from his victims’ terror or pain. Dahmer would frequently keep pieces of his victims and use them in his masturbation. He even went so far as to keep on the heads in his locker at Ambrosia Chocolate Co. Dahmer also planned to build a shrine of sorts with the skulls and skeletons of his victims. This was supposed to be a kind of supernatural shrine and help Dahmer stay connected to his victims. Cannibalism: While Dahmer initially admitted to eating one victims bicep because he wanted to try it Dahmer put another victims head and heart in the fridge to eat later. Coworkers reported that Dahmer brought meat from home with a “special gravy” but refused to let any taste it. Dahmer would also keep chopped human meat in his freezer which he shaped into patties. He would later state that he ate his victims to keep them with him forever, similar to why he kept their skulls. Pedophilia: Dahmer was arrested numerous times for exposing himself to minors or molesting them. He somehow avoided capture for these crimes. His adult victims all shared a boyish appearance and were young in age. It isn’t clear whether the allegations that Dahmer was molested by a teenage neighbour are true, but it is common in most pedophile’s background. His father has claimed he was but Dahmer denied it and no charges have been made. Denial is not unusual, however and even more so among men. Exhibitionism: Dahmer’s exhibitionism could be seen as an outgrowth of his pedophilia. In August 1982 Dahmer was charged with drunk and disorderly conduct after exposing himself to a crowd, which included children. Four years later he would be arrested for lewd behavior after he was caught masturbating infront of two twelve year old boys. He confessed to five previous incidents of public masturbating and was sentenced to one year of probation. He was also ordered to seek therapy, which he failed to do. Depression: Paraphilias are frequently comorbid with depressive symptoms. Right before he was arrested Dahmer sought and killed victims while he reported his depressive episodes to his probation officer. Dahmer also alluded that losing his job would be a good reason to kill himself. Substance Dependence: Dahmer had a long, long history of substance abuse. He abused alcohol frequently beginning in high school where a classmate recalled Dahmer drinking scotch in class. Dahmer would continue this behaviour into college where he would often pass out drunk on his way back to his dorm. His alcoholic behaviour also got him dishonourably discharged from the army. According to defense expert Carl M. Wahlstrom M.D, Dahmer had to drink in order to murder his victims and that he did not enjoy that act of killing. Asperger’s Disorder According to Lionel (Dahmer’s father) Jeffery as a young child did not hold eye contact, showed blank facial expressions, was stiff and rigid, and had trouble interacting with other children. Quote from Dahmer “The subtleties of social life were beyond my grasp. When children liked me, I did not know why. Nor could I formu- late a plan for winning their affection. I simply didn't know how things worked with other people.... And try as I might, I couldn't make other people seem less strange and unknow- able. (Silva et

al., p. 1349). “ Silva et al. (2002) belive that Dahmer’s fixation on corpses and body parts allowed him to reimagine them as love and sex objects. Morever, his meticulous fascination with bones and body parts from a young age is also a sign of Aspergers – as much as his social and emotional impairments. It is noted however that borderline personality disorder and Aspergers is difficult to tell apart in adulthood since both impair interpersonal relations and share several core symptoms. Several facts and events in Dahmer’s life seem to actually argue against an Aspergers diagnosis. There was an incident where police caught Dahmer chasing a naked and bleeding 14 year old boy. Dahmer was able to convince the police that nothing was wrong – even though he had a decomposing corpse already in his bedroom. SOURCES A&E Biography Video: Jeffrey Dahmer https://murderpedia.org/male.D/d/dahmer-jeffrey.htm Baumann, Edward, Step into My Parlor: The Chilling Story of Serial Killer Jeffrey Dahmer. 1991. Dahmer, Lionel, A Father's Story. William Morrow and Company, 1994. Davis, Don, Milwaukee Murders, Nightmare in Apartment 213: The True Story. St Martin's Paperbacks, 1995. Martingale, Moira, Cannibal Killers. St. Martin's Paperbacks, 1993. Tithecott, Richard and James Kincaid, Of Men & Monsters: Jeffrey Dahmer & the Construction of the Serial Killer.

#Jeffrey dahmer #Jeffreydahmer #Dahmer #true crime #true crime blog #true crime community #true crime post

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santigarcia · 3 years

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Human Touch Part One

a nathan bateman x f!reader fic~

word count: 3.3k

rating: T - nudity (non sexual), mentions of masturbation

summary: After a wrong turn on a hike, you find yourself on Nathan’s property and joining him for dinner.

a/n: ahhh this is part 1 of 10 of this series! i cannot wait to share it all with you!! remember these will be posted at 9 CST. check here for the schedule so you won’t miss one!! thank you to @punkpascal for encouraging this and listening to me yell nonstop! and thank you to @sergeantkane for your support and for making the moodboards for this series!!

You only agree to this because of the view. Not for any other reasons. No. No. Certainly not.

Your cousin owns a timeshare in Norway for her work. And she invites you to come up for a few weeks. You’re in desperate need to get out. She won’t even be there half the time, which is even better. You love your cousin but you’re ready for some quiet. Some space. The fresh air. And you’ve seen photographs, the mountains outside her door look beautiful.

Those are enough reasons for anyone to go.

But it’s when you find out who her ‘neighbor’ is that has you chomping at the bit to go.

The term neighbor is a loose term, the neighbor in question lives two hours in a different direction. It’s a secluded private area. But it still gives you some strange hope you might see him.

“I’ve only seen him once,” you remember your cousin telling you. She wasn’t that impressed, but you – you’re dying to see him.

Nathan Bateman, the multi-billionaire CEO, and creator of Bluebook. He’s a celebrity crush of yours. Half the reason you have a Bluebook phone in your pocket is because of him.

There’s something about him. You’ve followed his career quietly, but more than anything you think he’s handsome. Gorgeous even.

He’s a hot topic for gossip since he remains in seclusion, working on his mysterious projects. To be that close to him sends a thrill down your spine. And he’s all you can think about on the plane ride over.

Your cousin picks you up at the airport and you spend the next few days hanging out with her and relaxing. She leaves on the third day and you spend most of it reading that book you’ve been meaning to finish.

As you sit near the window, you can’t help but admire the mountains. The lush greens of the field at the foot of it, the rich white snow. The crisp air feels good to you, even if it gives you chills.

You decide that you want to go hiking. Your cousin mentioned there are several easy trails and you think you can figure them out.

You get to packing that night. You shove your backpack with things you think you’ll need. You don’t plan on being gone long, so just some essentials for the hike.

The next morning is a lovely one, that mountain air is crisp, and it fills your lungs. You feel rejuvenated. The trails are easy to follow and you walk for hours. You stop to rest every so often and keep hydrated and eat.

You have every intention of turning back when it begins to rain. Hard. Within minutes you’re soaked to the bone. It’s freezing and if you don’t get warm you worry you’ll get sick. You try not to panic, but the rain is coming down so hard you can’t see the trail.

Somehow you take a turn and find yourself going down a decline. Maybe you’re near the trails edge.

The rain continues to pour, but through it you see lights of what looks like a house. Shivering, you make the long walk to this place. It’s your port in the storm.

It’s not your cousin’s house, and you don’t remember seeing this one on the way in. You bang loudly on the front door, hoping someone will hear you over the rain. The house looks huge.

“Hello?” you bang on the door; you feel tears welling up in your eyes. You’re so cold. “Is anyone home?”

After a few moments, the door is opened. And you’re not sure who is more surprised. You or the one and only Nathan Bateman standing across from you.

“It’s you,” you gasp, shivering violently from the cold. “Nathan!”

He blinks, his eyebrow ticks up in bewilderment.

“How the hell did you even get out here? Are you okay? Yeah, come in. Shit, you’re freezing. Umm… yeah. That’s me.”

He opens the door wider so you can come inside. The warmth hits you like a wave, and it almost hurts. You haven’t stopped shaking. And now you’re trembling for any entirely different reason.

“I was hiking, and it started raining and I got lost and…” your teeth are chattering. And Nathan looks confused but concerned.

“This is a hell of a way to get introduced, but-“ he pauses for a beat. “We need to get you out of those clothes. You’re gonna get sick.”

You follow him in this maze of a house, and he takes you to a large open bathroom. He turns on the shower and you take a step towards it, but he stops you.

“This is for the steam, you need to get warm slower, you’ll go into shock.”

You’ve heard about this, and you know he’s right. One of the best ways to prevent hypothermia is warming the body through skin to skin contact and body heat.

“Look, shit, I know this isn’t ideal,” he snorts, “but you need to get naked. I won’t look.” He smiles softly and you feel sick. Maybe it’s the hypothermia.

You turn your back to him and begin to awkwardly peel off your clothes. You’ve never felt so embarrassed in your life. He’s turned the opposite direction and isn’t saying anything. You almost wish he would.

“Ok,” you tell him. You’ve turned back around with your arms covering your chest. He’s taken off his shirt, and he’s quick to wrap you up tight in his arms before you can think too much.

His bare chest is warm. His arms squeeze you tight and he rubs your back. His beard tickles your ear, and you feel all of him all at once. It’s making your head spin. Is this? Is this how you’re meeting him?

“I’m Nathan,” he chuckles softly, “but it seems you already knew that.”

You tell him your name, and he chuckles again. “Interesting meeting huh? Story to tell the grandkids.”

That gets a soft laugh from you, and you can feel him physically relax. The awkward tension has been cut.

“You’re feeling warmer now, less shivering.” He states this as if you don’t know, but it’s impossible not to shudder while naked in his arms. He seems to pick up on this, because of the look he gives you when your bodies pull apart. “You okay?” he looks at you, his eyebrow up again.

Tears well up in your eyes and you can see a look of slight panic cross his face.

“No,” he whispers, “No, hey sweetheart, it’s ok. No need to be embarrassed ok? Do you need me to call someone for you?”

“There’s no one to call,” you sniffle out. “I’m staying with my cousin at her place, but she’s out of town.”

“Do you- you wanna stay here tonight? Get warm? We can figure out shit tomorrow.”

“I’m not an inconvenience, am I?”

“Not even a little. You’re the first person I’ve seen in… months. And… it’s way too cold out there. You’re safer here. Just as long as you’re not a serial killer or somethin’… you can stay.” He gives you a little smile, and hands you a towel to wrap yourself in.

”Definitely not a serial killer. I killed a spider last week and I screamed.”

He chuckles while he dries off his chest and pulls his Henley back on.

“Is it just you in this house?” you ask trying to keep the subject off your nudity.

“Yeah, just me. It’s… yeah, it’s a little lonely. But it’s the ideal working environment. No distractions. No noise. But sometimes, it’s too quiet. Listen, hey we can talk later. You should get in the shower, get warmed up ok? Don’t turn the water up too hot alright? I’ll have my housekeeper set aside some dry clothes for you.”

He exits quietly closing the door behind you with a soft click. Once he’s gone, you drop the towel and step into the warm spray of the nicest shower you’ve ever seen.

You try to process what just happened, and you decide this must be a sign or a dream.

At one point there’s a soft knock on the door and you briefly see a woman set a stack of clothes on the counter. She exits as quickly as she arrived.

You wonder why he’d said he’d not seen another person in months when there she was.

After you dry off, you reach for the stack of dry clothes which you assume are his. There’s a soft pair of sweatpants and a warm Henley that looks like the one he was wearing. They smell fresh and clean, and you pull them on eager to not be naked in this house anymore.

You step out of the bathroom and no sooner do you step foot into the hall do you see his face.

“You don’t have any kind of electronic device on you, do you? Like your phone? Just until you leave, for security purposes. It’s just a precaution.”

“You scared me!” you laugh and touch your chest. “And I do, in my backpack. Which I don’t remember where-“

“It’s in the dining room, I’ll show you.”

Once again you follow Nathan through this maze. Your backpack is sitting on the table just as he said. The fabric is soaked, and you have little hope anything is dry on the inside. There’s a neatly folded towel next to the backpack and you spread it out to take out the contents of said pack.

Your phone is in there, and it looks dead. Soaked from the water.

“I can fix that,” he tells you and extends his hand for the phone. You hand it to him, and he pockets it.

After your phone is out, you dump the backpack onto the towel and all your stuff spills out. A clean shirt, a small first aid kit, a phone charger (just in case), and to your horror – a forgotten vibrator that had been stuffed in the bottom of your pack.

You look up at him with fear in your eyes, but he’s got that eyebrow up again.

“Carrying the essentials huh?”

“I-“

“I have so many questions about why you’re hiking with a vibrator, but you look way too embarrassed to answer them honestly. You can keep that for yourself.”

You quickly shove it and the rest of your things back into your soaked backpack.

“So, you’re just… in the middle of the wilderness, alone, with a phone and a vibrator. And no one to call. And you’re sure you’re not a serial killer?” he winks playfully.

“I swear I forgot that was in there!”

“Hey, sorry. I am the last person who’s gonna judge you for somethin’ like that. And you’re not the only person here with a vibrator,” he winks again.

“You sure you’re not a serial killer?” you flush.

“Would it make a difference if I said no?” he can’t help the grin on his face. “Kyoko, my housekeeper, is done with dinner. Would you like to eat with me?” He picks up the damp towel from the table.

“That would be nice, thank you. You’re a good host.”

“I’ll admit, I don’t get a lot of visitors. Or… any visitors, really. But against my better judgement, I’m not gonna let you freeze to death outside. And you seem… relatively harmless,” he smiles again fiddling with the towel in his hands.

The woman you saw earlier sets plates of food down on the table, and Nathan hands her the towel.

“This looks amazing, I can’t thank you enough for your hospitality.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better. You kinda looked like a wet cat when you got here. No offense,” he bites his lip and glances over at you.

“None taken,” you laugh.

“Do you drink?” he glances at you when he sees you reach for an empty glass.

“I’m not much of a drinker, but I like the occasional wine!”

He chuckles fondly, “We can definitely do wine. I have a Chateau Lafite 1787 and a Cheval Blanc 1947 that are begging to be opened. And… from the look on your face, you have no clue what that means. Kyoko, grab the Cheval.”

“I admit I don’t know! But I can tell you do. You seem to know a lot about a lot of things. Including saving someone from hypothermia,” you almost grimace at the memory.

”That’s why they pay me the big bucks,” he chuckles taking a generous sip of his freshly poured wine. “Damn… this is the good shit.”

You watch him drink and it’s beginning to hit you. This is really him; this is the Nathan that you have his social media accounts on notifications. This is the Nathan that you’ve watched random tech videos you have no interest in but wanted to hear his voice. And now you’re sitting across from him, at his table, watching him drink wine.

“You definitely seem to enjoy the finer things in life, don’t you? And yes, this is good, especially with the meal. I’m not used to this much luxury. I feel like I don’t belong here,” you bite your lip. He’s a genius. Famous and sexy as hell and you’re just-

“Well, you get used to a certain way of living when you’re… me,” he chuckles.

“This wine probably costs more than I make in a month,” you laugh taking another sip. “I don’t know what I’d do if I even had a million dollars.”

“Done.”

“Pardon?”

“I can wire your bank tomorrow.”

“Wait, you can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack,” he shrugs. “Pocket change. Consider it a get well soon present. So, what’s home like for you?” He changes the subject so abruptly, but you go along with it, but it’s hard to keep up.

Suddenly you feel like spilling your whole life out to this man. That you’re stuck. You live at home because you can’t make ends meet and nothing seems to stick. You’re looking for something, but you don’t know what it is.

“I live in a small town. It’s cozy. Simple. But sometimes it feels too small. That’s why I wanted to get away. See something new. I realize how I’ve not experienced much in my life. I want excitement. I want- well I want to move away. That’s what I want.”

He takes another sip of his wine and you can’t help but stare at his delicious beard.

“I specialize in exciting, honey. You stumbled into the right place,” he grins, another soft chuckle escapes his lips.

“I think I did, though it sounds like you know something I don’t know.”

His brow raises as he smirks devilishly, “there’s a lot you don’t know, kitten. There’s a lot I can show you. I didn’t come out here just to be alone.”

Your stomach drops and you feel your face heat. He’s called you two pet names back-to-back. His eyes are fixed on you, watching every move on your face. He’s calculating, tucking everything away into his memory.

“K-kitten?” you find your words, but you sputter on your wine. “Did you just call me kitten?”

His smirk only seems to grow. The confidence is oozing out of him and it’s thick in the air.

“You liked that, didn’t you? Your pupils are dilated.” He causally sips his wine as if he didn’t just ruin your whole life with a short sentence.

He’s rendered you speechless, the very air in your lungs is gone. And there’s a feeling low in your belly. A pang of arousal and need and thrill hits you all at once.

“I-“ your words are lost again, but he speaks up for you.

“Look, kitten,” he punctuates the word, he’s teasing you now. “You obviously did. Can we just skip to the part where we have the conversation?”

“The conversation?”

“Y’know. The one where I tell you I’m not just interested in you because you’re the first person that’s come around here, like… ever, but because you’re beautiful and interesting and genuinely fun to be around. And that you need to make the first move if you want this as much as I do because I’m not some rich asshole who’s trying to take advantage of the fact that you’re completely vulnerable right now. That conversation.” He sips his wine again, and you feel like you might pass out or jump across the table into his lap. You’re too frozen to do either.

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“Honey,” he sighs setting down his wine glass and folding his hands together resting his elbows on the table. “I don’t mince words. And let me put it to you clearly. You’re exactly my fuckin’ type.”

“Is this really happening?”

“Only if you want it to baby. But I’m as real as it gets. And I couldn’t have made a more perfect woman if I tried, and I have.” He mumbles the last part into his wine glass, it’s so quiet you almost don’t hear it.

“Look Nathan, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m in love with you.”

Both his eyebrows raise in question and a smile grin spreads across his face.

“No, I mean,” you bury your face in your hands, “I mean I have a crush on you, you’re kind of… my celebrity crush,” you wince a little and peek out from behind your hands. “My cousin really does own a timeshare and I really did want to get away, but I came because I thought you would be nearby. I didn’t actually think I’d be having dinner with you after you saw me naked.”

“So, that explains the vibrator then,” he scratches his chin, pretending he’s lost in thought. He’s messing with you but when he sees your obvious distress he leans back in his chair. You think he’s about to apologize when you get up and walk down the hall and pick a random room that’s open.

You sit down on a couch and look up to see a Jackson Pollack painting on the wall. Lights are angled at it, it’s the focal point of the room.

A few moments later you hear a soft knock on the doorframe.

Nathan walks in and leans against the desk under the painting, he’s facing you. His arms are crossed, but he doesn’t look angry.

“Look, I wanna talk to you about earlier. I know I come on….strong. And it’s a shitty excuse but you’re the first real woman I’ve seen in months that isn’t my housekeeper and what I said before about you being my type? Shit. I scared you, didn’t I?”

“It’s just overwhelming,” you flush. “My celeb crush saw me naked today and wants to have sex with me. Not to mention you offered me a MILLION dollars without batting an eye!”

“Okay, okay. How can I put you at ease about this? We obviously have a connection. And you might as well stay until I can fix your phone.”

“What about the money?”

“I could put you to work. I’m writing a thesis. And I need to make sure it’s readable to someone who may not understand all this,” he moves his hands around in the air.

“Is that worth a million dollars?”

“It would be to me; I need help on this.”

“Okay,” you nod. “I’ll do it.”

“Really?” he smiles, he seems so excited. “Great. I’ll take you to a room you can stay in. Let me give you a tour of the place.”

Your tour ends with the bedroom. He tells you goodnight and disappears down the hall. You shimmy out of the sweatpants but leave on the Henley and slide into the bed. The sheets are soft, silky. There’s a thick warm blanket on top and you snuggle deep under the covers.

You’re thinking about your day, what a crazy day it’s been. You try not to linger on the naked part, but you think more about his skin. The warmth. The touch of his beard. His obvious desire for you at dinner. You wonder what he’s doing right now. You wonder if he’s thinking about you as much as you are thinking about him. Maybe you have some charge left in the vibrator….

if this looks familiar....it’s because w/ permission from @sergeantkane, i wrote a fic based on my thread w/ her on @thatortheschlong!!

next part will come on thursday feb 18th!

tagging: @punkpascal, @pascal-isaac, @wasicskosgirl, @velvetmel0n, @huliabitch, @shadow-assassin-blix, @writefightandflightclub, @aellynera, @softboywriting, @veuliee2, @spider-starry, @mylifeliterally, @millllenniawrites, @ntlmundy, @foxilayde, @writingletterstothefire, @mandoplease, @anetteaneta, @feelmyroarrrr, @artsymaddie, @shakespeareanwannabe, @thevalentinowhitebag, @deanfanatic

#nathan bateman #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman imagine #nathan bateman x you #human touch series #part one #my writing #akljghksjgkhsjl IM SO EXCITED #PLS PLS TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK

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huihuiheart · 3 years

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BTS Masterlist

Rules and Request Information

Navigation

Key: 🔞- 18+ 🤬 - Angst 😊 - Fluff : 💗 - Female Reader 💙 - Male Reader 💜 - Gender Neutral Reader

Group:

Horror Hotel - 🤬💗 - Summary: Themed in the later 1800s and inspired by the Murder Castle. - Warnings: Kidnapping themes, murder themes, serial killer themes, death, dead bodies, suggestive themes, nudity, poker, alcohol, crematorium themes.

Namjoon:

So Close - 🔞💗 - Summary: You may the one paying him, but he’s still the dom here...and he intends to teach you a lesson that you won’t soon forget. - Warnings: Edging, denial, sex toys, orgasm control, dom/sub themes, bdsm themes, sir kink, bondage, dirty talk.

Namjoon As A Sugar Daddy - 😊🔞💜

Bloody Beautiful - 🤬💜 - Summary: You should have known your new house was too good to be true, or perhaps your fate was just inescapable. - Warnings: Ghost themes, haunting themes, blood, crying.

Jin:

Mine - 🔞💜 - Summary: Jin is ready to make the commitment, but he wonders are you? - Warnings: BDSM lifestyle themes, collaring, sir kink, mention of marking.

Yoongi:

Frosty - 😊💜- Summary: Yoongi knew you were stubborn, but at least that meant he knew you well enough to come prepared. - Warnings: None?

Hoseok:

A Little Bit Surprised - 🔞💜 - Summary: Based on 2. “Bend over, I’m not kidding.” + 36. “That’s not a fetish, that’s just weird.” - Warnings: Dom/Sub themes, dom hoseok, implied spanking , implied sex toys, light bdsm themes.

Distraction - 🤬😊🔞💜 - Summary: The strip club was the last place you expected to find an old friend. Though they seem to know exactly how to make you forget all about your ex. - Warnings: Talk about a nasty break up, stripper themes, mentions of alcohol, mentions of being drunk.

Lost Hope - 🤬💜 - Summary: What happened to your best friend growing up was tragic, but there were secrets about it that only you knew. - Warnings: Ghosts, murder (including children), avenging, blood, gore, death, graves?,mentions of abuse, mentions of bullying, mentions of suicide, bones.

Game, Set, & Match. - 🔞💜 - Summary: He set the rules, but you wanted to play a dangerous game anyways. Hoseok was going to make sure you faced the consequences though. - Warnings: Dom/Sub themes, masturbation, kind of video sex (recording), brat taming themes, lingerie, cum eating, degradation, daddy kink, drinking, implied blowjob.

Jimin:

Trapped - 🤬💜 - Summary: You finally had a chance to escape, only it didn’t quite go how you had imagined. - Warnings: Yandere themes, blood, degradation, injury, aggression, mildly suggestive themes, violence, passing out.

Stolen - 🤬💜- Summary: Jimin is tired of waiting for you to finally come to him, so...he goes to you. - Warnings: Yandere Themes, kidnapping, mentions of drinking, mentions of drugging.

Taehyung:

Watersports - 😊🔞💜 - Summary: When you and Tae have a little too much to drink, secrets start to come out and things start to get a little more...intimate. - Warnings: Watersports/piss play, not really smut in this, just very suggestive and exploring the kink, drinking (honestly they’re drunk), slight degradation (more like teasing/light humiliation), some cursing.

Arrangement - 🤬💜 - Summary: You had to marry him to get ahead in life, but there wasn’t much reason that he need you in his. - Warnings: Arranged marriage, one sided love, Taehyung is honestly just a jerk, like he just doesn’t give a fuck about your feelings, cursing.

In Bed - 🔞💜 - BDSM Test Results + Description

Taehyung As A Bad Boy - 🤬🔞(suggestive)💜

Taehyung As Your S/O - 😊💜 🔞(below cut)

Jungkook:

Red Handed - 🤬💜 - Summary: It’s bad enough waking up in someone else’s body, it’s even worse when you have to see all that they had just done. - Warnings: Serial killer themes, body transfer themes, blood, death, gore.

Planning Ahead - 😊💗 - Summary: Jungkook has been thinking about the future and he wants to be sure he has what it takes for what you two have planned for the future. - Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy.

Series:

Dear Deadly Dragon - Park Jimin - 😊🤬🔞💗- Summary: A little princess leading the army to face the dragon? That was unheard of and simply absurd. And yet….to you it seemed the only way out. At least until someone showed you another way. - Warnings: Depression, suicidal thoughts/intentions (she wants to fight the dragon as a way out of her life as a royal even if she stands no chance), mentions of arranged marriage, mentions of death, smut, more to be added as written. - Teaser _ Part 1 _

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trashmemes · 4 years

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LAST PODCAST ON THE LEFT SENTENCE STARTERS PT. 16 — quotes pulled from the podcast hosted by marcus parks, ben kissel, and henry zebrowski. contains nsfw content. feel free to make alterations.

people take murder confessions pretty seriously.

you don't have to listen to every single demented doll that tells you to do something.

just because your parents hate him, doesn't mean he's cool.

if there is one person that is over-fucked on this planet, it is [name].

kinda makes it a little hotter, i guess.

why do you get me in these conversations? how am i in this right now?

you would be surprised how much your male roommate can purposefully not see.

this is my sweet spot, this is where i'm happiest.

hey, i'm just getting closer to the fucking truth.

you wait until i get drunk later and i start talking about robots.

that town has a death curse!

if you look at "the jersey shore," they were actually scholars.

technically, you were the one that most people thought would be a serial killer.

whatever disgusting illness was inside you is now inside of me.

i'm just so thrilled you found a pool and not a fountain this time.

this is what happens in the morning? is this why you sleep in?

everyone did everything wrong this past week

my brain is getting expanded, yet interestingly enough, dumber.

don't fucking say it! don't even fucking say it!

then you just watch wheel of fortune and forget about it.

there's no fucking alcohol here.

if there was a license to listen to music, i would have yours revoked.

do not get into your heightist rant.

what was the last thing that you were enthusiastic about that turned out well?

it's never a good day when the ghost hunters show up at your door just randomly.

you never know if you're gonna see something in the skies that makes your neighbors afraid to speak to you.

i think it's fine to have sex with a sasquatch.

have you not masturbated this month?

you can't sleep naked while camping.

what a good way to get rid of your family.

it's horrifying to drive with you.

i hope that you do keep my bones, [name] - or a piece of my body.

never, ever believe the pamphlets.

let me tell you the story here: so jonah fucks the whale, right?

whatever it takes for you to forget that you are impotent.

#podcast: last podcast on the left #source: podcast #starter meme #sentence starters #roleplay meme

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lalaenwrites · 3 years

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Rated: E Warnings: Plague, zombies, plague zombies, medieval medical practices, SMUT (masturbation in the first chapter) Pairings: Eventual Adoribullavellan, in this installment we have casual Bullavellan and a LOT of Pavellan flirting. AKA 'UST and Zombies' What do you get when the inexperienced Herald of Andraste is sent to The Fallow Mire to rescue a handful of hostages? A lightning rod, considering the constant electrical storms make his already poorly-controlled magic go wild. Oh, and plague zombies. Lots of plague zombies. Dorian is enjoying the task of honing Gethrael's magical skill more than he thought, and it has nothing to do with his carefree good looks and (entirely accidental) charm. Probably. (This series is written as a serial - you can feel free to start with this installment!)

EXCERPT:

It was impossible to say whose fault it was, or whose fault it was first. Maybe it was the guy who’d just been cut down. Didn’t really matter.

The Iron Bull bellowed as he cleaved a ghoul clean in half at the waist, its papery skin and brittle bones no match for his brute strength and the keen edge of his axe. He just barely stopped himself from taking a step forwards to balance, seeing that it would’ve put him in the damn water. He shouldn’t’ve tried so hard, because he didn’t even get the chance to take a breath before he saw one of the scouts stumble a full stride into the bog.

Another two spirits rose out of the murky water. Bull roared in frustration. No sooner had the party turned spells and arrows on them than a ghoul stood, dripping, out of the mire.

“Stop touching the fucking water!” Krem shouted, knocking another of the undead back with his shield before hacking down through its shoulder. Good form. The Herald was near him, raising his sparkling blue barriers as rapidly as he could. The pulses those spirits threw were absorbed easily, but it didn’t do much to stop one of the Inquisition soldiers from being grabbed by his ankle and yanked face down into the muck. He struggled and splashed like a wounded baby druffalo, and in an instant there were a dozen of the moaning things coming at them like moths to a torch. Two of the Chargers rushed to help the drowning soldier, and another four… five… six of the undead surrounded them. People were screaming. Bull watched as another scout got her boot stuck in the mud and started flailing wildly.

There was a wicked crackling as a ghoul incinerated, a shuffling column of fire wading through the swamp for a moment before falling forwards and extinguishing. Dorian was hammering one after another with fireballs, the movements of his staff so extravagant that it was amazing he wasn’t killing anyone standing around him with the thing, the grass bar they all stood on was barely wide enough for two men to stand abreast. Solas, likewise, was focused on picking off one at a time. Dalish pushed back anything that got too close, sending them tumbling back on their little bony asses into the bog and scattering the spirits to dust.

Bull knew he’d be fucking stupid to charge out after these things, but being a commander in Seheron certainly meant he knew a panicking company when he saw it. “Anyone who isn’t a mage,” he snarled, “Stand down, don’t move!”

#my fic updates #enlea'enasal #adoribullavellan #dai fanfic

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sergeantmiller · 4 years

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The life and crimes of Jeffrey Dahmer

May 21, 1960: Jeffrey Lionel Dahmer was born at Evangelical Deaconess Hospital in Milwaukee. According to Jeffrey's father, Lionel, his mother suffered bouts of partial paralysis during the pregnancy. Doctors were unable to find any reason for the paralysis. She was given "injections of barbiturates and morphine, which would finally relax her." Later she was given phenobarbital as well.

1962: The Dahmers moved to Ames, Iowa, so Jeffrey's father could work on his Ph.D in chemistry.

1964: Jeffrey was diagnosed with a double hernia in his scrotum. Surgery corrected it. Extreme pain suffered by the child both before and after the surgery could, conceivably, have influenced later feelings of sexual inadequacy or insecurity. Lionel claimed that it was from this time on that Jeffrey began to become more and more withdrawn and introverted.

November 1966: The Dahmers moved to Doylestown, Ohio. There were several other moves over the next year as they searched for just the right place to bring up Jeffrey and his brother David, who was born on December 18.

The pregnancy was as difficult for Mrs. Dahmer as her first. At this time a teacher (Jeffrey was in the first grade) noticed that Jeffrey seemed to feel neglected. This is, of course, a normal reaction for someone used to being an only child whose family suddenly expands. Most get over it fairly quickly.

Jeffrey's father describes him as being extraordinarily shy and withdrawn during this period, actually terrified of new people and situations.

1968: The family moved to Bath, Ohio.

Jeffrey's father has reported that Jeffrey was sexually abused by a neighbor boy at this time. Jeffrey himself claimed to remember no such thing. Molestation can be a factor in gender confusion and hostility.

Late 1970: Jeffrey's mother was hospitalized twice for psychiatric problems. According to Lionel she had been taking drugs to deal with her extreme nervousness for years, but they didn't work well. Thus, she was not a stabilizing influence in Jeffrey's life.

During his school years Jeffrey built a reputation as a misfit with a penchant for stupid pranks and very heavy drinking. Some of his pranks, such as shouting things out at strange times, bleating like a sheep and faking epileptic fits, sound eerily similar to the childhood behavior of Arthur Shawcross, another serial killer who practiced cannibalism. [See The mask of sanity in the November 1994 issue of Murder Watch for more about Shawcross's odd behavior.] They don't seem to resemble each other in very many other ways.

June 4, 1978: Jeffrey graduated from high school. By this point he was living alone. His parents were going through an extremely bitter divorce and had each moved out. Because Jeffrey at 18, was legally an adult, the law did not allow for anyone to have custody of him. Therefore, no one took custody. Instability and a lack of emotional support continued.

June 18, 1978: Dahmer picked up nineteen year old Steven Mark Hicks hitchhiking. They went back to the house for a few beers. When Hicks tried to leave, Dahmer clubbed him with a barbell and strangled him with it. Over the next couple of weeks he methodically stripped the flesh from the bones, smashed the bones and disposed of the few remains in the back yard.

Dahmer said he killed Hicks because he didn't want him to leave. At least one survivor of a Dahmer attack reported that after he had been at Dahmer's apartment for a while (voluntarily), he mentioned that he wanted to leave, and Jeffrey's attitude changed; his voice became panicky, and then the attack began. However, Dahmer's fascination with death and the dead was already pronounced by the time he picked up Steven Hicks. Friends said he liked to pick up roadkill and take it to a shed behind his house, to skin the bodies. He also had a small animal cemetery. There were rumors that he killed neighborhood dogs and cats and even mounted a dog's head on a stake.

This bizarre behavior must have influenced Jeffrey's decision to kill Hicks. After all, if he just wanted to keep Hicks from leaving, he could have tied him up. Corpses are poor company, generally.

Another explanation for the killer's panicky tone when the prospective victim wanted to leave could simply be the stress of realizing that, if he was going to kill the target, he'd better do it soon. Dahmer did indicate that he never liked the killing much; he only did it to acquire dead bodies.

After his high school graduation Dahmer enrolled in Ohio State University. He stayed only one semester before dropping out. He was now creating his own instability.

December 24, 1978: Lionel remarried.

December 29, 1978: Jeffrey was sworn into the Army. After failing to become an MP he was trained as a medic and assigned to Baumholder, Germany. This was far from a plum assignment. It was also a very few years after the humiliation of Vietnam, when morale and discipline in the armed forces were poor and drug and alcohol abuse wide spread.

In the Army, Dahmer no longer stood out as a clown and prankster. He was noticed, however, for being not only a very heavy drinker, but as an unpleasant, even violent, drunk.

After his arrest in Milwaukee became known around the world, authorities in Germany looked to see if they could connect Dahmer to murders that took place there. Though information is sketchy, it seems likely that a serial killer was active in the area at the time, but that it was not Dahmer. (The victims in Germany were young women. Dahmer killed only men.)

March 26, 1981: Dahmer was discharged from the Army before his enlistment was up because his drinking had reached the point where he simply didn't function any more. Back in the U.S., he went to Florida where he slept on the beach for a few months before returning to Ohio.

October 7, 1981: Dahmer was arrested for disorderly conduct and resisting arrest and paid a small fine. He was drunk.

August 7, 1982: Dahmer was arrested again for disorderly conduct. He dropped his pants in public. By this time Dahmer was living with his grandmother, in part because she seemed to be the only person he responded to with anything like affection.

September 8, 1986: Jeffrey was arrested when he deliberately exposed himself while urinating in front of a group of children in Milwaukee. Another version of the story has it that he was masturbating.

By this time Dahmer was a frequent visitor to gay bars and bath houses. He was barred from one bath house because of allegations that on at least four separate occasions he took someone to a private booth and drugged them. No charges were filed, though one of the victims was hospitalized for a week or so.

September 15, 1987: The murder of Steven W. Tuomi, age 24. Dahmer claimed he woke up in a hotel room and found the victim dead, with no memory of doing anything to him. He bought a big suitcase, transported the body back to his grandmother's house, and proceeded to dispose of it much as he had the body of Steven Hicks.

Nine years passed between the first and second murders. In a sense, the time was so long that the second murder could be treated, mentally, as another first murder. He spent years working up to it, learning how to approach other men, how to drug them, how much to drug them. He may have been too drunk to remember the murder or he may have avoided the memory because it was unpleasant - he wasn't very skilled at killing yet.

1988

January 1988: James Doxtator, 14, killed. Dahmer offered him money to pose nude for photos, took him back to his grandmother's house. After sex Dahmer drugged and strangled him. By now his pattern of using acid and crushing force to destroy the remains was practiced.

March 24, 1988: Richard Guerrero, 25, came back to Dahmer's grandmother's house for nude photos. Again, after sex, Dahmer drugged and strangled the victim.

September 25, 1988: Dahmer moved into his own place. He offered $50 to a 13-year-old to pose nude, gave him drugged coffee and fondled him. The boy escaped. Dahmer was arrested.

From here on the pace of the murders picked up significantly. Once he had his own place, Dahmer seems to have lost most of what little control he had.

1989

January 1989: Jeffrey was convicted of 2nd degree sexual assault and enticing a child for immoral purposes. (See above) Sentenced on May 23 to five years and three years, sentences to be served concurrently. Actually served ten months, then began five years probation.

March 25: Anthony Sears,24, was last seen alive. Dahmer met him at a club, took him back to his grandmother's house. After sex, he drugged Sears and murdered him. Sears's painted skull was recovered from Dahmer's apartment after his arrest in 1991.

1990

May 29: Ricky Beeks, 33, was last seen alive. Dahmer met him at a club and offered him money to pose for nude pictures. He drugged and strangled him and had sex with the body. The victim's painted skull was recovered from Dahmer's apartment after his arrest in 1991.

June 1990: Edward W. Smith, 28, killed. Dahmer met him at a bar and offered him money for sex and pictures. After sex, Smith was drugged and strangled. Dahmer took some pictures during the process of dismembering the body.

September 2: Ernest Miller, 24, was last seen alive. He met Dahmer in front of a book store. Dahmer offered him money to come home with him. After sex, Dahmer drugged him and cut his throat. He took pictures of the body and dismembered it, putting the biceps in the freezer. He bleached the skeleton and painted the skull, which was in his apartment when he was arrested in 1991.

September 24: David C. Thomas last seen alive. Dahmer met him on the street and offered him money to come home with him. Dahmer drugged Thomas and murdered him without sex, taking pictures as he dismembered the body.

1991

March 7: Curtis Straughter, 18, last seen alive. Dahmer picked him up at a bus stop, offering him money to come home with him. He drugged Straughter and strangled him after sex, taking pictures of the dismembered body. The skull, unpainted, was recovered from Dahmer's apartment after his 1991 arrest. This is at least the third sequence of events Dahmer experimented with. Earlier, it had been sex, drugging then murder. At least once he tried drugs, murder, sex. This is drugs, sex and murder.

April 7: Errol Lindsey, 19, last seen alive. Dahmer met him on the street and offered him money to come home with him. He drugged Lindsey, strangled him and had sex with the body. The unpainted skull was recovered from Dahmer's apartment.

May 17: Dahmer met 14-year-old Konerak Sinthasomphone in front of a mall and offered him money to pose for nude pictures. After the pictures he drugged Konerak, then went out for beer. The boy escaped, naked into the street. Neighbors called police, but Dahmer convinced them that he and the boy were lovers who had merely had a little quarrel. Police, aparently unconcerned that Sinthasomphone was still too drugged to confirm or deny the story, returned him to Dahmer, who strangled him as soon as the police were gone. Dahmer had sex with his body, took pictures and dismembered him. His skull was recovered from Dahmer's apartment.

When the full details of this incident became known, mild disciplinary action was taken against the officers involved. The department was also sued for a large amount of money.

May 24: Tony Hughes, 31, last seen alive. Reportedly, Hughes and Dahmer had known each other for two years. By writing (Hughes was deaf and mute) Dahmer offered him $50.00 to come home with him and pose for nude pictures. Hughes was drugged and murdered without sex. His unpainted skull was recovered from Dahmer's apartment.

June 30: Matt Turner, 20, last seen alive. They met in Chicago at the bus station after a Gay Pride parade. Dahmer offered him money to pose nude, drugged him and strangled him with a strap. After cutting the body up, Dahmer put the head in the freezer and the rest in a barrel of acid he had obtained.

July 6: Jeremiah Weinberger, 23, last seen alive. They met in Chicago at a gay bar, where Dahmer offered him money to come back to Milwaukee. This murder is very unusual in that the victim was not murdered until the day after he came home with Dahmer. When he indicated that he wanted to leave, Dahmer drugged him, strangled him, and dismembered him, taking pictures of the process. Like the last victim, his head went into the freezer, his body into the acid.

July 15: Jeffrey was fired from the Ambrosia Chocolate Co. for bad attendance.

The same day, Oliver Lacy, 23, was last seen alive. They met on the street and went back to Dahmer's apartment for body rubs. Lacy was then drugged and strangled. Dahmer had sex with the body before dismembering it. He put the head in the refrigerator and the heart in the freezer, "to eat later."

July 16: Joseph Bradehoft, 25, last seen alive. They met at a bus stop, where Dahmer offered him money to pose for nude pictures. After sex, Dahmer drugged him and strangled him with a strap. He dismembered the body and, as before, put the head in the freezer and the body in the acid barrel.

July 22, 1991: Shortly after midnight, Tracy Edwards, 32, escaped from Dahmer with one hand in a handcuff and flagged down a police car. He lead the cops back to Dahmer's apartment. They found photos of dismembered victims and body parts in the refrigerator and freezer. Shortly, the sight of crews in biohazard protection suits taking evidence out of Dahmer's apartment was televised all over the world. The suits were necessary because of the smell of decay in the apartment and because of the acid in the barrel.

Caught red-handed, with overwhelming physical evidence against him, it's not surprising that Jeffrey confessed. His dry, unemotional descriptions of murdering a dozen and a half young men belied the reality of brutality and sadism that was revealed in Tracy Edwards' testimony.

It's possible that the sameness of the descriptions (Offers of money to pose, drugs to knock them out) was not entirely accurate. Tracy Edwards claimed he was not offered money, that he only went to Dahmer's apartment for some beers before going out again. He may have been covering up his own indiscretion, or Dahmer may have lied about the ways he lured people back to his apartment in order to make them seem less like innocent victims.

Edwards was drugged, but did not lose consciousness. This raises the possibility that the sedatives Dahmer gave victims were intended only to weaken them, while leaving them aware of what was being done to them. Dahmer had certainly had enough practice by then to have a good idea what dose was needed to knock a man out. Dahmer may have enjoyed taunting the victims about their fate and killing them, slowly, much more than he let on later.

Dahmer also claimed that he needed to drink heavily in order to be able to face killing people, but we know that he was a hard-core alcoholic for much of his life. For him, making excuses for drinking was normal and can not be regarded as likely to be honest.

1992

January 14: Dahmer entered a plea of guilty but insane in 15 of the 17 murders he claimed to have committed.

February 15: By 10-2 majority vote, a jury found Dahmer to be sane in each murder. Testimony from defense and prosecution experts took weeks and was extremely gruesome. One expert testified that Dahmer periodically removed body parts of his victims from the freezer and ate them. Another testified that this was a lie Dahmer told to make himself seem insane. The jury deliberated slightly more than ten hours.

February 17: Dahmer was sentenced to 15 consecutive life terms. At the sentencing, Dahmer read a prepared statement in which he expressed sorrow for the pain he had caused.

"I knew I was sick or evil or both. Now I believe I was sick. The doctors have told me about my sickness and now I have some peace. I know now how much harm I have caused. I tried to do the best I could after the arrest to make amends."

"I now know I will be in prison the rest of my life. I know that I will have to turn to God to help me get through each day. I should have stayed with God. I tried and failed and created a holocaust. Thank God there will be no more harm that I can do. I believe that only the Lord Jesus Christ can save me from my sins."

He later pled guilty to aggravated murder in Ohio, in the death of his first victim, Steven Hicks. He was sentenced to life in prison without parole.

November 28, 1994: Dahmer murdered in prison.

Dahmer and two other inmates were assigned to clean the staff bathroom of the Columbia Correctional Institute gymnasium in Portage, Wisconsin. Guards left them alone to do their work for about twenty minutes, starting at around 7:50 a.m. When Dahmer was discovered, he was unconscious and his head and face were bloody. He died on the way to the hospital from multiple skull fractures and brain trauma.

A bloody broom handle was found near Dahmer, but a broom is probably not sturdy enough to inflict the damage that killed him. Reports in December indicated that he was struck with a steel bar stolen from the prison weight room.

One of the other two inmates in the area with Dahmer was also attacked. Jesse Anderson, 37, was pronounced dead in the hospital at 10:04 a.m. on November 30. Anderson was convicted of stabbing and beating his wife to death in 1992. He was serving a life term.

The third inmate in the work party is twenty-five-year-old Christopher Scarver, a convicted murderer reportedly taking anti-psychotic medication. Scarver murdered a coworker when he was angry at his boss. The boss got away. Scarver claimed his boss was a racist and there has been speculation that Scarver, who is black, wanted revenge for the wrongs Dahmer and Anderson (both white) had done to black people. The majority of Dahmer's victims were black. Anderson tried to blame two fictitious black men for murdering his wife during a mugging. It's been pointed out that a desire for publicity or status may have also been a motive.

Dahmer was attacked last July, also. A convicted drug dealer tried to cut his throat with a razor blade attached to a toothbrush handle, making a crude straight razor, but the weapon fell apart. Dahmer received minimal injuries.

Scarver is said to have delusions that he is Christ. He has been in psychiatrict observation and treatment several times, with diagnoses of bi-polar disorder and schizophrenia. He was found guilty of the murder, though, and sent to prison. A jury apparently did not believe he was insane.

#Jeffrey dahmer #Murderer #Tcc #True crime #True crime community #Ted bundy #Murder #Creepy #Eric harris #Serial killers #Serial killer #Hh Holmes #Dylan klebold #Dylann roof #Nikolas cruz

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truecrimesposts · 4 years

Text

The Milwaukee Cannibal

Timeline of events

1960′s

May 21, 1960: Jeffery Lionel Dahmer was born in Milwaukee’s Evangelical Deaconess Hospital to his parents Lionel and Joyce after a very difficult pregnancy. According to Lionel, Joyce experienced random bouts of paralysis during the pregnancy, and doctors were unable to find any reason for this. To try and treat this and mostly to calm her during, she was given “injections of barbiturates and morphine, which would finally relax her.” She would apparently also be given phenobarbital.

We know now that the “Use of barbiturates during pregnancy has been associated with a higher incidence of fetal abnormalities. Neonatal barbiturate withdrawal symptoms have been reported in infants whose mothers took barbiturates during pregnancy,” but we don't know for sure if this applied to Jeffrey.

1962: The family made the decision to move to Ames, Iowa in 1962 so that Lionel could work on his Chemistry Ph.D.

1964: After their young son complained of extreme pain, Lionel and Joyce took Jeffrey to the hospital, were he was diagnosed with a brutal double hernia in his scrotum. Even after the surgery corrected the issue, Lionel would claim that this experience was what initially triggered the change in Jeffrey’s personality, apparently making him become much more shy and withdrawn. Psychologists believe that there is a possibility that this could actually have influenced his feelings of sexual inadequacy and insecurity in later life.

November 1966: When Joyce fell pregnant with her second child David, the family decided to move home in an attempt to find the perfect spot to raise their two children. This led to several moved throughout Ohio during the following year. This was not an easy time for the family, Joyce was struggling with another very difficult pregnancy, and young Jeffrey, who was now in the 1st grade, was starting to feel neglected, especially after David was born on December 18th.

Of course feeling neglected when a new baby comes along is a fairly common thing, but unlike most children, Jeffrey would not get over this feeling, instead it would get worse. Lionel describes his son at this time as extremely shy and withdrawn, even going as far as t say that he was terrified of new people and situations.

1968: After the family moved to Bath Ohio, Jeffrey experienced a new and particularly heinous kind of trauma. According to Lionel, Jeffrey was molested by a boy in the neighbourhood, however Jeffrey never once admitted to even remembering this.

It seems likely that Jeffrey repressed this memory, especially since his personality ticks pretty much every box when it comes to the traits that come with childhood memory repression:

Strong reactions to certain places people and situations.

Difficulty controlling emotions.

Difficulty keeping a job.

Struggling with a sense of abandonment.

Immaturity.

Tendency to self sabotage.

Impulsive.

Emotionally exhausted.

Anxiety.

Trouble with anger management.

1970′s

Late 1970: Over the last few years, Joyce had, according to Lionel, been taking drugs in order to try and deal with the extreme anxiety that she was facing on a near daily basis, but they didn't really work, and in the late 1970′s she was actually institutionalised twice for ‘psychiatric problems’. Since the family were so busy trying to take care of Joyce and raise their very young son, Jeffrey reportedly did not have a stabilising influence, or much emotional support.

This combined with the fact that he had grown tired of not fitting in led Jeffrey to build himself a reputation as somewhat of a clown, and a misfit. His behaviour at that time is very similar to that of fellow serial killer and cannibal Arthur Shawcross, he would drink heavily at just 10 years old and was always pulling ‘pranks’. Jeffreys pranks including randomly shouting, bleating like a sheep, and most memorably, faking epileptic fits.

June 4, 1978: By the time that Jeffrey had graduated from high school, his parents were going through a very difficult divorce and due to the fact that he was now legally an adult, he was actually living by himself in the home while his parents and brother lived elsewhere. Jeffrey had less emotional support than ever before and all the freedom in the world.

June 18, 1978: 19 year old Steven Mark Hicks was hitchhiking when Jeffrey drove by him and stopped, suggesting that he come back to his home for a few beers. Hicks agreed and the two went back to the house and began to drink, everything was going fine, until Hicks tried to leave. It is believed that Jeffreys crippling fears of abandonment kicked in and he flipped. He grabbed a barbell and began to club and then strangle Hicks with the weapon. According to Dahmer, over the next few weeks (!) Jeffrey stripped the flesh from the bones using acid (like he apparently had to a whole host of animals previously) smashed the bones and disposed of the remains in his back yard.

Dahmer would later claim that he had killed Hicks because he didn't wat him to leave. This reasoning would later be corroborated by at least one survivor of Jeffreys attack, claiming that Jeffreys entire personality changed when he mentioned wanting to leave. This reasoning isn't difficult to believe when you consider the lack of parental support, tendency to move, and I believe most noticeably his memory repression

After his high school graduation Dahmer enrolled in Ohio State University but he stayed only one term before dropping out.

December 24, 1978: Lionel remarried.

December 29, 1978: Jeffrey was trained as an army medic and shipped of to Baumholder Germany. This happened not long after the Vietnam war, and morale and discipline was at an all time low within the armed forces at the time, and drug and alcohol abuse amongst the soldiers was rife.

Dahmer’s reputation changed once he joined the army, he was no longer known as a clown an a prankster, but as an aggressive drunk.

(Interesting side note, after his arrest police actually looked into murders in the area were he was stationed to see if he was active while he was there, and there did appear to be a serial killer in Baumholder at the time, but it is not believed to be Jeffrey since it was young women being killed, and as far as is known, Jeffrey only killed men.)

1980′s

March 26, 1981: When Jeffreys drinking reached the level were he was no longer able to do his job, he was discharged from the army and sent back to the US. When he got back, he slept on the beach in Florida for a few months before returning to Ohio.

October 7, 1981: Dahmer was arrested for a drunk and disorderly and resisting arrest and paid a small fine.

August 7, 1982: Dahmer was arrested again for another drunk and disorderly. He dropped his pants in public. By this point in his life Jeffrey had moved in with his grandma, who was apparently the only person in his family who actually showed Jeffrey any affection.

September 8, 1986: By this time, Jeffrey had gone off the rails, and was getting himself into trouble pretty often. He was arrested once again for exposing himself to a group of children in Milwaukee. There are two different accounts of what happened at that time, (he was either urinating or masturbating).

Dahmer was also now frequenting gay bars and bath houses often, and actually got himself banned from one bath house, for drugging at least 4 men. No official charges were filed against him, but one of his victims was hospitalised for about a week.

September 15, 1987: According to Jeffrey, he woke up in a hotel room to find the dead body of 24 year old Steven W. Tuomi. He transported the corpse to his grandmothers home in a large suitcase, disposing of the body pretty much as he had Steven Hicks.

Nine years passed between the murders of Hicks and Tuomi, which is pretty unusual for a serial killer to do. He spent years before this second murder working his way up to it, learning how to pick up men, how to drug them, and how much. We still don't know for sure whether or not Jeffrey actually remembers the murder or not. It is possible that he was just too drunk to remember, or that, like he had for earlier trauma, he repressed the memory. I personally find it like likely that the latter is true to be honest, as it seems strange to me that he would admit to all his other crimes and not this one. Also, Jeffrey would later say that he didn't actually enjoy the killings, and that there were a necessary evil in order for him to get the bodies.

January 1988: Jeffrey offered 14 year old James Doxtator some money if he agreed to pose nude for some photos. After James agreed Jeffrey took the teenager back to his grandmothers house. After raping James (Dahmer described it as sex but James was still a child so it was actually rape) Dahmer drugged and then strangled the boy. By now his method of disposal, acid and crushing bones was well practiced.

March 24, 1988: 25 year old Richard Guerrero also came back to Jeffreys grandmothers house, once again for nude photos, and once again after sex, he drugged and strangled the young man.

September 25, 1988: Jeffrey finally moved into his own place, which is where the pace of his crimes really picked up, since he no longer felt he needed to be careful, he once again had all the freedom that he wanted.

Once he moved in, he met a 13 year old boy, who was once again offered money to pose nude for him. Jeffrey drugged the boy sing coffee and fondled him, but luckily the young boy escaped.

January 1989: Jeffrey was arrested and this time charged with 2nd degree sexual assault and enticing a child for immoral purposes.

March 25: Dahmer met Anthony Sears, 24, at a club, and like he had previously he drugged and murdered him after sex. After Dahmers arrest, Sear’s skull was recovered from Dahmer’s apartment. He had painted the skull.

May 23rd: Jeffrey was sentenced to 5 years and three years, for his attack on that 13 year old boy, but he only served 10 months before he was out on a probationary period of 5 years.

1990

May 29: Dahmer met 33 year old Ricky Beeks at a club, and used his usual MO of bribing, drugging and strangling. However this time Jeffrey had sex after he was dead, instead of before. Once again, Jeffrey had painted the mans skull, which was recovered after his arrest.

June 1990: 28 year old Edward W Smith was killed in the same way as Dahmer's previous victims, but this time Dahmer did one thing different. Jeffrey took photos of the dismemberment process.

September 2: Something changed before the murder of 24 year old Ernest Miller, causing Jeffrey to be even more gruesome than he had been previously. Instead of drugging and strangling Ernest like he had his previous victims, he drugged him and cut his throat. Once again taking pictures of the body, Jeffrey dismembered the body, putting the biceps in the freezer, and once again painting his skull.

September 24: David C Thomas was the first time that Jeffrey killed somebody without sex being involved. It is believed that David wanted to leave before having sex with Dahmer, since Dahmer was known to kill his victims in order to make sure that they couldn't leave.

1991

March 7: Curtis Straughter was 18 years old when he was murdered, with Jeffrey this time using a different sequence of events. Previously he had had sex with his victims then drugged and killed them, and at least once he had drugged and killed them and then had sex, but this time he drugged Curtis before raping and murdering him. It is likely that this change was due to the fact that Jeffreys last victim had wanted to leave prior to sex.

May 17: 14 year old Konerak Sinthasomphone was pickes up by Dahmer outside of the mall, he went with Jeffrey under the promise of money for nude pictures. After drugging the boy Jeffrey apparently felt pretty comfortable, ince he left the home to go out for a beer. The boy managed to escape, naked, and the neighbours called the police. Somehow however Jeffrey managed to convince the police that responded that he and the teenager were simply lovers who had had a fight (I don't know how they could be so stupid, this is a drugged child and a 30 year old with a pretty lengthy criminal record, including the sexual assault of a minor?! Like how do you just let that be?!) and the police actually RETURNED the poor boy to the sick serial killer. Dahmer strangled the 14 year old as soon as the police were gone, had sex with the body and then took pictures like he had previously. Konerak’s skull was also recovered from the apartment.

Once people actually discovered what had happened the officers involved received mild disciplinary action (which is nowhere near enough) and the department was sued.

May 24: Deaf and mute 31 year old Tony Hughes had reportedly known Dahmer for about 2 years when Dahmer, by writing on paper, offered the man $50 to come and pose nude for him. Hughes was drugged and murdered without sex. Once again Hughes skull was found in Jeffreys apartment.

June 30: Matt turner was killed by Jeffrey after a gay pride parade. After cutting the body up the head was put in the freezer and the rest was put into a barrel of acid.

July 6: 23 year old Jeremiah Weinberger travelled with Dahmer from Chicago to Milwaukee where he then stayed overnight. Like the previous cases, everything was fine until Jeremiah decided that he wanted to leave, at which point Dahmer drugged, killed and disposed of the young mans body.

July 15: Jeffrey was fired from the Ambrosia Chocolate Co. for bad attendance.

On this same day Oliver Lacy, 23, was killed by Dahmer. Jeffrey had sex with the body before dismembering it, at which point he put his head In the fridge and heart in the freezer “to eat later”.

July 16: Joseph Bradehoft, 25, met Jeffrey at a bus stop, where Dahmer offered him money to pose for nude pictures. After sex, Dahmer drugged him and strangled him with a strap. He dismembered the body and, as before, put the head in the freezer and the body in the acid barrel.

1992

January 14: Dahmer entered a plea of guilty but insane in 15 of the 17 murders he claimed to have committed.

February 17: Dahmer was sentenced to 15 consecutive life terms. At the sentencing, Dahmer read a prepared statement in which he expressed sorrow for the pain he had caused.

He later pled guilty to aggravated murder in Ohio, in the death of his first victim, Steven Hicks. He was sentenced to life in prison without parole.

November 28, 1994: Dahmer murdered in prison. Dahmer and two other inmates were assigned to clean the staff bathroom of the Columbia Correctional Institute gymnasium in Portage, Wisconsin. Guards left them alone to do their work for about twenty minutes, starting at around 7:50 a.m. When Dahmer was discovered, he was unconscious and his head and face were bloody. He died on the way to the hospital from multiple skull fractures and brain trauma.

Dahmer was attacked the previous July, also. A convicted drug dealer tried to cut his throat with a razor blade attached to a toothbrush handle, making a crude straight razor, but the weapon fell apart. Dahmer, received minimal injuries.

#true facts #true crime #true #crime / law / justice #major crimes #murder #murderer #Murderpedia #serial killer #killer #the milwaukee cannibal #milwaukee #cannibalism #jeffrey dahmer #dahmer #timeline #criminal justice

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sushigirlali · 4 years

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If You Don't Love Me, Lie To My Face - Part I (Reylo Fanfic)

Part I | Part II | Part III | Epilogue

Summary: Grifter!Rey helps U.S. Senator Leia Organa's son, Ben Solo, out of a jam when a couple of muggers invade her turf. Afterward, she debates robbing the rich American herself, but can she protect her heart while stealing his?

Pairing: Rey + Ben Solo | Finn + Poe Dameron

Rating: E

Continuity: Modern AU

A/N: For the first time ever, I’ve actually written most of the story before I started posting! I think it will be way less stressful since I don’t have to “keep up” with updates. New chapters will be posted each Friday. Enjoy!

Master list –> AO3 | ff.net | Tumblr

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If You Don't Love Me, Lie To My Face - Part I

By: sushigirlali

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Kennington, London

——————

There are moments in life that make you question everything that came before. A look from a stranger, an incident at your job, a terrible movie... things Rey Niima was usually able to push past without pause, but tonight, she was finding it extremely difficult to ignore the feeling that her life was about to change forever.

"Hey, give us your wallet!" A pair of brawlers had cornered a man at the mouth of a nearby alley, drawing Rey's attention as soon as she stepped out the back door of her favorite pub, The Black Prince.

"Excuse me?" the would-be victim responded indignantly. His voice was deep with an American lilt, his stature intimidating.

Did these fools really think they could steal from a man like that? But then, not all criminals were as intelligent as her.

"You heard me! I want your wallet!"

Rey hung back from the potentially violent situation unfolding before her, sizing up the assailants. Their outfits were all black, including the ski masks covering their faces, but she couldn't see any identifying marks or gang affiliations. "Must be lone wolves," she thought.

There was something familiar about the tall one doing the talking, but she couldn't place them. It probably didn't matter, though, because the redwood with the nice accent looked like he could take the both of them with one hand tied behind his broad back.

Still, for some reason, she was finding it hard to walk the other way. Definitely not because the man was the most striking person she had ever seen. No, it had to be due to the fact that these bums were causing a ruckus on her turf. At least, that's what she kept telling herself, frozen to the spot as she was.

"Listen, I just got done volunteering at a shelter all day and just want to get home. Please allow me to leave unmolested."

"Volunteering at a shelter?" she muttered under her breath. "Well, fuck. But it's not your business, don't get involved." Rey was turning around to go back inside the pub when the sound of a gun cocking drew her up short.

"Don't make me repeat myself again, pretty boy."

"Whoa, hey, there's no need for that!"

"Then empty your pockets! Now!"

"No," he said crossly. "Put that thing away before somebody gets hurt."

"Dammit," Rey groaned, retrieving the silver baton clipped to her belt. Sometimes, she really hated having a conscience; in her line of work, it was a real liability.

"Hey, get your hands off me!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," she growled, resolutely stalking toward the turbulent scene. "Oi! You lot!"

The big guy and his sidekick paused to look in her direction. "What?" the leader said in a surprisingly feminine voice.

"Not a guy," Rey mused. "Based on your absolutely abominable bullying technique, I don't think you're getting that guy's wallet any time this century, so why don't you just leave him alone and move along."

"Excuse me?" the woman said threateningly.

"I'm sorry, did I stutter?"

"You move along, little mouse, this doesn't concern you!" the shorter guy spat.

"You do know who's neighborhood this is, don't you?" Rey said tauntingly.

"Yeah?" the first one said dismissively. "So what."

"So, knock it off! We don't need the fuzz coming down here because some hooligans are roughing up a foreigner."

"Hooligans?! And who the fuck are you?"

"Me?" Rey sneered, flicking the baton out to the side so that it extended into a long poll. "I'm no one."

"Phas," the skinny guy said nervously, obviously recognizing her at last, "we should go."

Rey had never been so proud of her reputation as a grifter who was just as likely to steal an expensive piece of art from the peerage in an elaborate heist as kick a thug's ass in the street.

"But the boss—"

"He'll understand."

"But—"

"Phas!"

"Fine. But don't think this is over!" the woman yelled before running off with her companion.

"Well," the American said slowly, "that was an experience I never wish to repeat again." He smiled at her. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

"You're welcome," Rey replied gruffly, still riding high on adrenaline. "Do you always walk around by yourself at night in a city not your own?"

"Do you always save unsuspecting passersby from thieves?" he retorted.

Her phone went off, but she didn't answer it. Up close, the man was even more attractive than she had initially thought. "Suit looks expensive, too… and is that a Breitling?" Perhaps it was her lucky night after all. "Only if they're handsome," she said smoothly.

"Oh, uh…" he flushed at her compliment.

"Hmm… not the reaction I expected." It was kind of refreshing, though. "Sorry, I—ugh, one sec," she said as her cell went off again. "My brother," she explained, checking the caller ID. "I have to take this or he'll just keep phoning until I pick up."

The man shrugged, "No problem, I'll just wait over here." He stepped up onto the curb and walked a few paces away.

Rey nodded and lifted the phone to her ear. "What?" she said shortly.

"Who's the stiff?" Finn asked without preamble.

"Nobody."

"Right," he huffed. "Are you working him?"

"Undecided, stop pushing."

"Whatever you say, Rey. Just be careful."

"I will. Where are you anyway?" she said, humored by his tough older sibling act.

"Hanging outside the pub, just around the corner. Why? You need me?" Finn teased.

"No, I'll catch you later. Don't wait up." She ended the conversation before he could respond and stuffed the phone into her back pocket. "Sorry about that, uh…?"

"Ben," the stranger supplied, moving closer again. "Ben Solo."

"I'm Rey," she said, holding out a hand.

Ben's lips quirked and he gave her a firm handshake, his huge hand dwarfing hers. Rey felt a shiver run up her spine at the brief contact, but she shook it off.

"So, what's that for?" he indicated the weapon still in her hand. "Joining the circus?"

"No," she grinned, "it's a bo staff. I use it for self defense."

"And the defense of others," he said warmly.

"On occasion." She folded the bo staff back into a baton before reattaching it to her belt.

"Can I get you a drink?" he nodded toward the pub. "To say thank you?"

"I was actually on my way home before I… bumped into you."

"I could… walk you home? If you want." He didn't sound desperate, but it was a near thing.

"I'm not from around here," she said evasively. She couldn't really bring him back to her base of operations, which was only a few blocks down the street, but she didn't want to stop talking to him either. "What a dilemma."

"No? Where are you from then?"

"Nowhere."

"Okay… Well, I promise I'm not a pervert or a serial killer or anything," he said earnestly, "so you can come back to my hotel with me if you want. It's late and I'd hate for anything to happen to you."

She crossed her arms. "Because I'm a woman?"

"Hey, I'm 6'3" and double your weight and I almost got jumped like ten minutes ago," he reminded her. "It can happen to anyone."

"Fair enough," she allowed, lowering her defenses. "Still…"

"I can call my security detail if you want verification that I'm not a psycho," he offered. "I'd just like the opportunity to get to know the woman who saved my hide."

Rey's interest sharpened. "That's sweet, but uh… security detail?"

"Yeah," he said nonchalantly. "My mother is a U.S. Senator. I'm in town on her behalf. She was supposed to come herself, but her re-election campaign is heating up and she couldn't spare the time."

"You disapprove," she said perceptively.

Ben's dark brows shot up. "Yeah, actually. You a mind reader, Rey from nowhere?"

"Something like that," she smirked. "I prefer the term grifter."

"Grifter?" he said curiously. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"Oh, you know," Rey winked for effect, assuming the privileged American was about to run in the opposite direction, "I swindle rich people out of their valuables by preying on their weaknesses. Basically, I'm a professional bad guy."

Ben looked hopelessly confused by her explanation. "But you just helped me."

"Well, sometimes I like to help out the little guy." Rey looked him over. "Little big guys too."

"Like Robin Hood?" he said, disarming her with a crooked smile.

"What? I wouldn't say I'm—I'm a hero or anything," she stuttered.

"Well, you're my hero," he said smoothly, holding out a hand. "That's my driver pulling up over there, in the black Jag. Join me? Please?"

"I… okay," she agreed, placing her hand in his, "but just for a little while." This time, she couldn't ignore the shiver.

——————

Alarm bells should be going off in her head, but Rey felt perfectly comfortable with her new companion. It was odd, considering her trust issues, but Ben didn't seem to be only interested in her looks. And she knew she looked good tonight, her dark leather leggings were basically painted on and her lacy bra was visible through a mostly sheer black tank top. Add on her subtle smoky makeup and half-up hair style that emphasized her cheek bones and...

"Rey?"

She loved the way he said her name, almost like a caress. "Yes?"

"Are you hungry? I haven't had dinner yet."

"Oh, sure," she said, never one to give up a free meal. Though she did kinda wish something else was on the menu… "What is wrong with you? You just met the man! Note to self: masturbate more."

"Chinese okay?"

Her mouth watered. "Perfect."

"What do you like?"

"Besides you?" she said without thinking. "Uh, I mean—anything, really. Noodles, if they have them."

Ben let her comment pass, but he was beaming. "I like noodles too. Maybe some kind of chicken? Orange?"

"Excellent," she seconded.

"You're easy," he said, but then caught himself, looking horrified. "I mean to order food for, not—"

"It's okay," she laughed, patting his thigh. "I know what you meant."

"Sorry, I haven't done this in a long time," he said sheepishly, catching her hand before she could remove it.

"This?"

"Gone on a date."

"Oh." Was this a date? Rey couldn't remember the last time she had been on one. Pretty much anytime she'd been alone with a man not her brother in the past ten years it was because she intended to rob them.

"Not that this has to be a date," he said quickly, releasing her hand. "Sorry, I keep saying stupid things."

Dammit, but he was cute. "You don't have to keep apologizing," she replied lightly. "Let's just have dinner and talk and see where that takes us." Maybe the night would lead to some fun extracurricular activities, maybe not, but at least she'd be able to case his place. Based on what she knew so far, the guy definitely came from old money. "Just keep reminding yourself that he's potentially a mark, not a boyfriend, Rey."

"Sure," he smiled, looking relieved. "Hey, Poe?" he said to the driver. "Can you pick up some food after dropping us at the hotel? We're starving."

——————

Ben fumbled a little opening the door, but quickly recovered and ushered Rey inside with a gallant sweep of his arm. The hotel was nice, but not extravagant, something she found odd for the son of a U.S. Senator. Then again, he had apparently been helping out at a shelter all day, so maybe he really was as down to earth as he seemed.

"The bathroom is through there if you need it," he pointed toward the bedroom.

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Okay, I'm just going to grab a quick shower. Poe should be back within the hour, so make yourself at home."

"Can I join you?" she was tempted to say. "Sure, I'll just watch the telly."

Ben nodded and left the room. A few seconds later, Rey heard the water start. Flipping on the TV, she left it on the cartoon channel before having a look around.

There weren't any expensive electronics or pieces of art in plain sight, so Rey could only assume that anything valuable would be in his room. "Oh, well, nothing gained, nothing lost. Better update Finn, though."

Yanking her cell out, Rey sent a quick text to her brother with Ben's name, the hotel's address, and a couple sentences about the modest state of his living room. He answered her almost immediately, sounding concerned.

Finn: Are you sure about this bloke? If you're not there to rob him, I assume that means you're interested in something else?

Rey: Yes? Maybe? I don't know. We just met, but…

Finn: At least text me later, okay? So I don't have to worry

Rey: I will. Love you 3

Finn: Love you too, peanut

Finn: ...check the room safe if you get a chance. Those types of hotels always have them and you never know what might be inside ;)

Rolling her eyes, but knowing he was right, Rey listened for a moment. It sounded like Ben was still in the shower, so she took the opportunity to pop into the bedroom and search his closet. A standard issue hotel safe was at the back, surrounded by some very nice black suits.

It wouldn't have been hard to crack the safe if she had her gear, but her heart wouldn't have been in it even if she did. She didn't want to rob Ben Solo, which was a first. Still, she did appreciate a challenge...

"Did you need something?"

Rey whipped around to see her host in nothing but a low slung white towel. "No, I—uh…"

"Would you like something to change into?" he inquired kindly.

Unable to respond with his magnificent chest and long thighs on display, Rey just shook her head in the negative. His brow creased and she felt like a kid who had been caught snooping for Christmas presents. "Shit, shit, shit, I've totally blown it!" Backtracking to the living room, she wasn't surprised when he followed. "What should I do? Oh, god, I don't want him to think…"

"Rey, what you said earlier… about being a… what did you call it? A grifter? Are you—mmph!" he started, unable to complete his thought as Rey impulsively reached up to kiss him.

But instead of pushing her away and demanding an answer, Ben threaded his fingers through her hair and dragged her closer. Taking his response as permission, Rey wrapped her arms around his waist, gripping his bare back as the kiss went on and on.

Somehow, they ended up next to the couch. Rey pushed Ben into a sitting position and climbed onto his lap, rubbing her clothed core against the tent in his towel. "Rey," he whispered, lips trailing down to her neck, "Rey, I want you."

"Yes," she responded as he reached for her waistband. Coming up on her knees, she growled when he yanked her leggings and underwear down her hips with one forceful tug. Things were getting out of control, going too far too fast, but she didn't care; she wanted him too. "Help me," she demanded, legs trapped by the constricting garments.

"I've got you," he huffed, reaching behind her to unzip her black combat boots and pull her pants the rest of the way off.

Meanwhile, Rey tore her top and bralette over her head before going to work on the towel barely covering his lap. "Wow!" she blew out a breath, zeroing in on his ardent erection when it was uncovered. He was big, maybe bigger than anyone she'd ever been with. Would he fit?

"Fuck," Ben sighed, sitting back to stare at her body, "you're beautiful, Rey."

Feeling weirdly shy about the sincerity in his sinful voice, Rey kissed him again in lieu of a response, reaching between them to spread herself for entry.

"Wait," he said, gasping for air, "what about protection?"

"Implant," she mumbled, rubbing her slit against the tip of his penis. "I'm clean, are you?"

"Yeah, I haven't—oh, god—uh, done it in a while."

"Good." She felt strangely possessive of him, this man she had just met. It pleased her that he didn't sleep around. "Fuck me, then. Raw."

Ben slammed his mouth down on hers again, positioning his dick with one hand and gripping her left buttock with the other. But he didn't ram himself home, instead he teased her hole, sliding only a fraction of the way in before retreating. He did it over and over, mimicking the action with his tongue until she was incoherent with desire, squirming, imploring him to fill her…

And then he was, and she found that he fit very well inside her indeed. His thick cock seemed to be made for her, hitting all the right spots and ones she hadn't even known existed until now. "Ben!" she cried, furiously pumping her hips in time with his thrusts. "This is—you're—"

"I feel it too!" he returned, palming her breast and teasing her erect nipple. "From the first moment I saw you, I—"

She licked his mouth, begging for entrance, not wanting to hear his sweet words even as they made her heart soar. He opened for her, but was obviously frustrated that she had cut off his declaration. Before she knew it, the hand squeezing her ass drew back and lightly smacked against her butt-cheek.

"Oh!" Rey jolted at the slight sting, but it wasn't in pain. On the contrary, she requested, "Again! Ben, do that again, please! I'm—"

Knock, knock.

"Oh, shit, Poe's at the—"

"Don't you fucking dare, Ben Solo," she growled, bouncing up and down on him with renewed vigor. But the driver started knocking harder, likely because of the guttural sounds erupting from Ben's throat. "Come on, man, can't you tell we're busy?!"

"But—shit!" Ben hauled her against him, no longer playing, just looking for relief before his friend broke the door down.

Rey found his soft grunts and swears endearing, so she took pity on him and increased her pace even further. "Come for me, Ben," she instructed, grinding down on him with all her might. "Come now and then we can eat. Or you can eat me, whichever you prefer."

The dirty talk seemed to work, because in the next minute, Ben was biting down on her shoulder, shaking with the force of his orgasm. Not far behind, Rey led his hand to her swollen nub, needing just a hair more stimulation to tip over the edge. Almost instantly, his trembling touch sent her into climax. Still vaguely aware of what's-his-name banging on the hotel room door, she pressed her mouth to Ben's pectoral to muffle her cries and came for what felt like ages…

"That—was—amazing," Ben panted, hugging her so tightly she thought she might pop. "The—best—I've—ever—had!"

"Me—too," she couldn't help but admit.

Loosening his hold, Ben cupped her cheeks and kissed her softly. "Thank you."

"Ah—you're welcome," she said, smiling like an idiot. Before she could lean in again, Poe resumed making his presence known.

"Ben? Are you okay? Answer me! Did that woman kill you? Your mother will be so pissed if you're dead." He hit the door again. "Either answer me in the next ten seconds or I'm going to get security!"

"I'm fine, great, alive, whatever!" Ben called back loudly. "And annoyed," he said to Rey. "Go into the bedroom for a minute while I get rid of him."

"Okay," she agreed, gingerly getting up. They both groaned when he slipped out of her, which Rey found gratifying. "Can I use the shower now?"

"Sure, there are towels under the sink. My sleep shirts are in the top drawer of the dresser," he offered.

"He wants me to spend the night?" she mused, feeling giddy and terrified all at once. "Alright," she said aloud, picking up her clothes and disappearing into the bedroom she'd been casing earlier, "call out if you need backup."

"Will do," he chuckled, "will do."

——————

Ten minutes later, Rey emerged from the bathroom feeling fresh and back in control. Picking a long sleeve shirt out of Ben's dresser at random, she pulled it over her naked body before toweling off her wet hair. The black cotton was as soft as it was big, but Rey didn't mind; it smelled like Ben.

Catching her reflection in the floor length mirror by the closet, she was amused to see that the garment fell to her knees like a sack, giving her already slender body exactly zero shape. "Oh, well, it's not like I plan on wearing it lon—"

A disturbance in the living room suddenly diverted her reverie. Sneaking to the door, she carefully cracked it and peaked out.

"You can't just keep her here!" Poe nearly shouted at Ben.

"Keep your fucking voice down," he snarled back. "You're not my boss or my mother and you can't tell me what to do. I'm a grown ass man!"

"Maybe so, but you're acting like a teenager! You can't just sleep with some chick you picked up off the side of the road when Leia is counting on you to—"

"I told you," Ben said through gritted teeth, "she saved my ass and I wanted to get to know her. I didn't hire her for the fucking night!"

"Could have fooled me," Poe scoffed. "For all you know, she could have been in on the attack and—"

"Get out!" Ben ordered, clearly at his wit's end. "I'll call you when you're needed again, if you are."

"Are you firing me?!"

"Not yet," Ben said grimly, marching to the door and flinging it open. "Just go before I forget that you're my best friend and say something I regret."

"Fine," Poe said, storming out of the apartment. "Let me know when you come to your senses!"

Ben slammed the door shut, then turned around and leaned on it. Scurrying back into the bathroom before he caught her eavesdropping, she started combing her hair, attempting to look natural in case he came in after her. When he didn't, she tried not to feel disappointed.

Leaving her damp hair hanging loose around her shoulders, Rey found him sitting at the dining table in his towel with several brown paper bags in front of him. He looked lost in thought and she hoped he hadn't taken Poe's opinion about her motives to heart. "Wotcher, Ben?" she asked hesitantly.

"Hmm?" he said, looking up at her. "Sorry, I was just...uh…" The arrested look on his face made her toes curl. "Wow, you look amazing."

"This old thing?" she joked, sidling up next to him. "I borrowed it from a mate."

"He has good taste," he said, opening his arms.

"I certainly think so," she said coyly, moving to sit sideways on his lap. Rey curled one arm around his neck and placed the other one on his chest. "Are you still hungry?"

"For food?" he choked, holding her so that she wouldn't slide off.

"Food," she nodded, leaning her forehead against his, "and other things."

One of Ben's large hands inserted itself between her thighs. "These kinds of things?" he murmured. "I think we can—fuck!" he bit his lip as he discovered that she wasn't wearing anything underneath his shirt.

"We can certainly fuck," she teased, "but—oh!" Rey gasped as he stood with her in his strong arms. "Ben? What are you…?"

Before she could get the words out, he'd pushed their dinner out of the way and laid her down on the table. Placing the backs of her knees in the crook of each arm, Ben pulled her forward until her butt was on the edge of the table and her pussy was level with his mouth.

"Having dinner," he said in the most ridiculously sexy tone of voice she'd ever heard, flipping his nightshirt up so that she was bare from the waist down.

"Oh, god!" she whimpered as he lowered his head. "Ben, you don't really have to—ah!" Gripping the back of his head as he started to lick her folds, Rey shuddered every time his long nose bumped against her clit.

"Enjoying yourself?" he said a little arrogantly. "Is this why you came home with me? Cause you wanted me to make you feel good?"

Considering how very well he was treating her, and the uncertainty on his face, she decided to play along. "Yes, Ben, I wanted you the second I saw you!"

He smiled slightly, then resumed tasting her. "So, does that mean you want to come?"

"That would be lovely," she sighed, enjoying the pressure of his wide mouth.

His mouth quirked at that. "Never heard sex described that way before."

"Then you're doing it with the wrong people."

"Oh?" his gaze turned hot. "And how many people have you been doing it with?"

"Not many," she said hurriedly, "and not in a long time."

"Good girl," he said silkily. "So, if I were to put my fingers inside you, would your cunt feel… full?"

"Yes!" she panted, so wet she was dripping onto the table now.

"Let's see then."

Arching her back as he slid two fingers inside her body, Rey realized that she had never really known sexual satisfaction until tonight. She was twenty-five and still basically knew nothing about sex and relationships. "Huh."

Ben stopped moving, lifting his dark head to look at her. "Rey? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," she said dreamily. "I guess I've just never felt this way before."

He held her eyes for an extended moment, amber striking against hazel. "Yeah, me too." And then he was fingering her again, sucking and teasing her slick opening until she was crying out his name in ecstasy.

Afterward, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them. Needless to say, they skipped dinner that night.

——————

Rey grunted as she felt Ben leave the bed the next morning. He had been her heater since the sheets and pillows were strewn about the room. "Come back," she said hoarsely, throat worn from use. "I'm cold."

"Just a moment," he laughed, opening the bedroom door to fetch something from the living room. "Your cell has been going off for an hour straight."

"My cell?" she yawned. Then, "Oh, no." She sat bolt upright. "Wait! Don't—"

"Rey?" Ben called in disbelief. "Who the fuck is Finn?"

——————

A/N: I love Kingsman and always think about Rey being a punk with a heart of gold like Eggsy. I didn't include the spy angle, but I was able to visit The Black Prince, where scenes were filled for the movie, a couple years ago and have fond memories. Anyway, reviews are appreciated! <3

#reylo #reylo fic #reylo fanfic #kylo ren #ben solo #rey #modern au #my fanfiction #sushigirlali

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