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bisexual-horror-fan · 2 years

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"A Deep And Festering Need." Edward Porris X Famous Actor! GN! Reader.

SO! A friend of mine and I attempted to watch Antiviral (2012) the other day, I say attempted because we could not get through it, but part of why I wanted to watch it was because Douglas Smith was in it and you know I love him! So while I didn’t like the movie, the world it is in is interesting, and I got thinking about the character D.S. plays Edward Porris and I am not saying he will become a regular but fuck it, have a little dark as fuck drabble with him. Briefest of rundowns of the movie, a company sells illnesses that celebs have been infected with, taken right from the host that fans can purchase to be closer to them. Yeah so this goes some places. I am talking some seriously obsessive vibes. I wrote this in one sitting just to get it out. Enjoy.

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Rating. Mature. Length. 2.3K. Edward Porris X GN! Famous Actor! Reader. No Pronouns specified. Warnings: Obsessive Behaviour. Stalking. Mentions Of Sickness And Needles. Masturbation. Putting Reader On A Pedestal. Breaking And Entering. Restrained Reader. Gagged Reader. Manipulation. Dark Fic!

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It isn’t enough.

Owning every single movie you were in, no matter how small the part, every single TV show appearance, doesn’t matter how brief, was the start. He collected stories, watched every single interview you had done, every press junket he could get his hands on, every article and interview.

Next was pictures, signed glamour shots and behind the scene stills. Pictures cut out of tabloid magazines that while yes, they captured you in the sense that they took your picture they didn’t really capture YOU as a person. It was shallow and superficial, done for money, not like what he does, not out of love. He collages his favourites together, meticulous, loves having a spread of you, a proverbial feast for the eyes.

Next he knew he needed things you had touched.

The clothing that he had bought from auctions, bits of costumes from movies you had appeared in, rich and indulgent fabrics, velvets and embroidered silks. Even the more personal and intimate items he had gotten from private sellers, bits of sheer softness and thin lace that have kissed you places he wishes that he could, things that have the sheer essence of you clinging to them. He would wrap the delicate materials around his shaking fingers and inhale you, the other hand wrapped around himself. The urge to spill into them was tempting, insanely tempting, but he doesn’t want to overpower the lingering bit of you with him. He needs that distinctly you factor to hold onto them as long as possible. He knew if he encased himself in these items while he played he wouldn’t be able to control himself or hold back and would make a mess of them, ruin them.

He found out your favourite perfumes and bought them naturally, cost was no object when it came to you. He sprayed his bed with them so he could imagine you in the sheets beside him, would spray it on your items. Even if he had the worst day imaginable, he could come home and the smell of you would waft over him and the stress would melt out of his tense body.

When the Lucas company announced that they had added you to their line-up he knew he needed it. The next step. To be made sick with something that was inside of you, to have part of you inside of him? A dream come true.

The place was unsettlingly sterile. White on white on more white still. He waited in the pristine waiting room with sweaty palms and soon found himself on the other side of a glass desk, bare except for three packages in the space between him and the agent and a TV playing a small video of you on loop.

He couldn’t look anywhere but you.

The video was ten seconds long but he didn’t care. It was you in a similarly white room, (was it filmed here? Had you been in the same building as him?), a small cock of your head, a warm and fond smile, the kind that he had seen as an after effect when an interviewer genuinely made you laugh. Whoever was behind the camera, did they tell a well timed joke to get that smile out of you? The sales person was speaking, talking to him but he was still looking at you in that outfit, your favourite colour, it looked so good on you.

“So which would you like?”

He still didn’t look away from you as he selected.

The experience was a good one, he shouldn’t have enjoyed it so much but he did. The person who sold it to him was the same to administer it, he had selected the first sample you donated, a common cold. He wasn’t counting on how weirdly joyful it made him. Stuck in bed, feeling weak and exhausted, throat raw from coughing, feverish and stricken with chills. But he loved it, a high like no other when he was so low knowing that he had the same experience you had, that the same illness that had plagued you was now in him.

He went back over and over again till he had everything you ever had.

He’d never felt closer to you. And it still wasn’t enough.

He met you. At a movie premier. You were a vision, the movie was amazing, your performance was moving, he got to speak with you. He felt like he was on cloud nine, he asked questions, you seemed happy, answered his questions and took a picture with him.

It fueled him on his next venture, pushed him to it.

It was your fault really.

You had set up camp inside him and he fucking craved you. He would touch your belongings, watch your interviews, trace the curve of your cheek on a picture he had of you by his bedside, the injection sites where that part of you had entered him and he would ache. It wasn’t enough, none of it was.

He needed more.

He needed you.

Your address was not hard to find, he had it memorised for God knows how long. He planned as long as he needed, this couldn’t be rushed, this meeting needed to be perfect after all, it was what you deserved, what you both did honestly. Stalking you was almost too much fun, gave him such a rush it was hard to give up but he knew actually getting to have you would be infinitely better.

He had studied the security well, breaking in was almost laughable, but he wasn’t laughing. He was inside your house. It was so thoroughly you. Bits of you were everywhere. A veritable treasure trove but he couldn’t waste his time, not for long anyway, not when you were upstairs.

When he found your bedroom his breath caught.

You were splayed on your bed, in silky nightclothes, just a thin sheet covering you on this summer night, a fan going in the corner of the room. You looked gorgeous, like a renaissance painting but better, so, so much better because it was you, real and here, living and breathing.

He reached into his bag, fingers closed around expanese of coiled rope and he approached slowly and quietly.

You woke up slowly, limbs felt heavy, much too heavy, you were having trouble breathing, you felt weird. You stirred and you realised that there was something in your mouth, your tongue tried to push it out but you couldn’t. You tried to reach to your mouth to pull whatever it was out but you couldn not. Your arms couldn’t move. Your eyes opened, still bleary with sleep and you moved, tried to shift to sit up but you couldn’t. You struggled, eyes darting around, squirming, trying to find out what was going on and you caught the sight of them, ropes, tying your wrists and ankles to the bed posts. You were tied to the bed and gagged.

You wondered how, you screamed into the gag but then the mattress sagged, you looked up to find you weren’t alone. A man, sitting on the bed with you now, you could barely make out his face, you could see he was clad in all black, see a mop of brown curls on his head, he reached out to you, was speaking to you.

“Hey, hey, shhhh, it’s okay! It’s only me.” Me who? You didn’t recognize him at all.

A questioning sound comes from behind the gag and he laughs a little, “Oh you can’t see me, hold on.”

He reached over, turned on the lamp, the soft yellow glow of the light fills the space between you and you can see his face. A warm smile, blue eyes looking back at you, expectant, hopeful, like he wanted something. But what could he want?

“This is like so embarrassing but I am a massive fan. I’ve been following your work almost your whole career, you are just-”

He exhales, a small shake of his head, “-amazing. The best in film working today, I mean it you know! People could take lessons from you! Learn something and they should, from the way you carry yourself to the devotion to your craft and-”

He kept rambling on, excitedly, talking about you, in depth, about all manner of things. He was manic, as if he couldn’t settle on one thought for long or as if almost all of the things pertaining to you were of equal note, all his favourite.

This guy was crazy, a mad obsessed fan, someone who broke in and you were alone and tied and gagged and who knows what he would do to you.

Tears began to well up, your shoulders shook and breathing turned erratic. He took immediate notice. His hands reached out, one on your thigh as he tutted and cooed to you, “It’s okay, I know this is a lot, but I am here for you, I can help you through it! This is going to be a big transition.”

His hands on you made you jerk and you struggled harder, screaming into the gag and his hand on your thigh gripped harder.

“This might help. You know we’ve actually met before, here, see?” He held up his phone, showing you a picture. “We met at that film premier you had last month and we took this together-”

You see yourself dressed to the nines like your team always did for an event like this, you next to him, a big smile on your face, typical when taking a photo with a fan and him, looking utterly delighted. You do remember him upon seeing the picture. He was nice, sweet, very complimentary, asked a few interesting questions about the film, insightful ones, he didn’t overstep and asked so nicely for a picture that you went along with it no problem, did it happily even.

You never really know who someone truly is. He seemed like such a normal guy but here he was, sitting on your bed, having broken in and tied you down.

“-I love this picture. I made it my lock screen. Getting to meet you then was so fucking good, best I thought I could ever feel-” His other hand met your face, back of his knuckles brush over your cheek and he inhales shakily, “-till now anyway.”

You start to cry then. The tears finally fall and he seems so concerned. “I know, no one has ever cared this much about you, right?”

You can see through the tears he is smiling, this soft and sad kind of smile, concern in his eyes. “No one gets you like I do. No one understands you like me. I see the real you, I’ve loved you for years.”

He didn't stop talking.

“I’ve had all the sickness you have. Some of you is inside of me, we-we’ve had the same experiences, shared that pain, that agony. That first cold I got from you knocked me on my ass.” He laughed, as if it was fucking funny. “I was bedridden for like four fucking days.”

Oh he was one of those. You hadn't wanted to give your samples to that company but the studio and your publicist insisted. They said it would be good for your career, that your fans would love it. You supposed they were onto something.

Sick was right, he was sick, how can he talk like this? As if you were old friends? Like you weren't tied up and afraid for your life, shaking like a leaf.

He says your name and nearly shivers at that and you whimper behind the gag. He leans closer, you can smell him now, the scent of him is sweat and musk and something with a lot of spice and heat behind it, a smell that in another circumstance might light a fire in you but now it just serves to turn your stomach.

He reassures you. “I am gonna treat you so well. I am gonna do everything I can until you care about me, like I care about you.”

He was off the deep end. Totally obsessed. You were in massive trouble.

It took less time than he thought it would honestly.

You and he spent so much time together, you learned all about him, you were invested in him, cared about him, he had done everything right and now you didn’t have to hide. Sure you had been put off by his collection at first and his uh intensity, but you learned to love it all, to love him.

You made your relationship public. He stole you away that night for about six months and the public had missed you, he felt guilty hiding you away, if he was one of those poor fuckers who was denied you for a half a year he would have died. At the same time, having you all to himself was, bliss, heaven, an extended honeymoon and you weren’t even married. Yet.

But there was time for that later.

He was with you almost always. He insisted but the few times he couldn’t be with you he trusted you, no way would you betray him at this point.

It was nearly a year since that night, another premier, like that first night he met you in person, but this time he wasn’t some fan behind the velvet rope, he was just as dressed up as you were and he was your date.

He was close enough he could hear you.

“So you’ve almost always come to events like this alone, but you aren’t tonight! How did you and Edward meet?”

The interviewer asked and you leaned in a little closer to the mic they were holding, big smile on your lips as you said, “Oh! We met at my last premier actually, he was a fan, we started talking and just clicked so well, around a month later we ran off on that little impromptu vacation everyone’s been talking about.”

“Yes! Meeting and so quickly going off on a trip for half a year with almost no word from you! Everyone was going crazy wondering where you went, some people thought you were missing or kidnapped, can you imagine?”

You laughed just a little too hard at that and so did Edward.

“So you met, you fell in love, galavanted off, and then came back and everyone was more hungry for you than ever, it wasn’t planned that way but it was an amazing career move.” The interviewer continued.

You began to respond, “True, true, I didn’t plan it like that but it’s not why I did it. I just…” You glanced over your shoulder, he smiled wider, he waved to you and you finished your thought, “...Couldn’t say no to him.”

#Edward Porris X reader #BHF writing #I took a break from comms #After my hard day I needed something just for me!#I hope you all enjoy this!#Not really spicy but hey this is a nice change of pace!#Might write more of him if people like this

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