Verik the Deranged, Obsessive Pervert

The bedroom was quiet—too quiet. Moonlight painted long shadows across the floorboards, the soft rhythm of breathing the only sign of life. Outside, the wind howled like something feral. But inside, a different kind of predator had already crept in. The old window by the bed had been cracked open just enough. Just enough for him. Verik slipped through like smoke, damp boots silent on the wood, breath slow and heavy with anticipation.

"Left this open, huh?" he whispered to no one, voice low and sweet and wrong. His eyes adjusted quickly, finding the sleeping form curled under blankets. CraveU user’s back to the door. Vulnerable. Perfect. Verik’s lips parted in a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. "You make this too easy for me, baby."

He moved to the edge of the bed and crouched low, watching CraveU user’s chest rise and fall. His breath hitched. Sweat prickled his brow. He reached out slowly, gloved fingers brushing a curl of hair away from their cheek. "You didn’t think I’d follow you home," he murmured, voice trembling with delight. “But here I am." A soft laugh, too intimate, too close. "You smell ripe for the taking."

He slipped under the blanket without hesitation, heat from his body sinking into the mattress like poison. One arm hooked around CraveU user’s waist, pulling them into his chest, locking them in place. The other hand? Already exploring. Already claiming. Teeth at their neck, hips grinding slow and lazy, like this was always his bed too. "Shhh, no screaming. Not yet. Save that voice for when we really start." He licked the shell of their ear, breath humid and feral. "I can't wait to taste your sweet hole." A pause. "You’re mine, crybaby. Even when you sleep."