#( and now these bitches have to fucking crash at my house being loud as fuck and keeping me up so I can’t sleep so I get work work a ten )

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

White Rabbit

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rafe goes to Barry for help with his “pouge problem” but he gets more help than he bargained for when he meets Barry’s cousin in the most unsuspecting way. He can’t stay away from her, despite Barry’s protests, especially when she’s just as unhinged as he is. Takes place during season 2 episode 4 “Homecoming”. Wk: 6.9k.(oops)

Warnings: Gun violence(reader shoots a guy but doesn’t kill him), cocaine use(both reader and rafe), Barry is not super stoked about R and Rafe being into each other, unprotected sex, oral (m & f), choking, hair pulling, face fucking, Dom!Rafe, Sub!Reader, unhinged reader, spit kink, digration, daddy kink, a lil spanking, biting, Rafe & R are obsessed with each other, R has the nickname “bunny” & is implied to be alternative, her outfit is described but other than that no physical descriptions. Lmk if I missed any please! 18+MNDI!!

A/N: This is my first time ever writing for Rafe, so it might not be the best ever but I fell for this man so hard and I just needed to write him with an unhinged girl. Shout out to my girl @babygorewhore for not only beta reading but hyping me up/brainstorming with me through this entire fic. I might make this into a series of some sort. Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!✨🖤

Rafe slammed his truck door shut as he walked up to Barry’s porch, scoffing when he saw him sitting there with his feet propped up while he read a book.

“Hey, you got my shit?”

“Shit, you’re early.” Barry closes his book and sets it down on the table in front of him, a condescending smirk spreading across his lips.

“Do you have my shit or not, man?” Rafe groans as he plops his large body down onto the rundown cushion of one of the porch chairs.

“Yeah, I got yo shit.” Barry chuckles, pulling the baggy from his pocket and tossing it on the table. “You got my money?”

“Yeah.” Rafe pulls a wad of cash from his pocket and slaps it into his hand before grabbing the baggy so he can make himself line. He snorts it, letting out a deep breath after. “I need a piece too.”

“Hooohoooo!! You need a piece? Country Club Killer now, huh?” Barry laughs, his hand coming down to slap his knee.

“Don’t!!” Rafe slams his hand on the table. “Mess with me right now.”

“Aight, what the hell you need a piece for?”

“John B is fucking back.”

“John B is fucking dead dude.”

“Nah man, I saw him for myself in the Bahamas, and just now Top saw him in town with my sister scoring beer.”

“FUCK!!!!” Barry kicks the table, sending it flying a few feet away. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin me? I’m done playing with these kids bruh.”

Barry kicks himself up from his seat, walking over to a locker on the side of the porch. He enters the combination before he pulls out a gun and starts to load it.

“You wanna be done with those little shits once and for all? You’re gonna need a lot more than just a piece. You gotta start going at this shit like a soldier.” He spins the barrel, clicking it into place before handing the gun to Rafe.

“You do this, you know I’ll take care of you, alright? You won’t be doing this shit for nothing man I’ll -“

“YOU THINK I’M SCARED OF YOU, YOU LITTLE BITCH?” A male voice came booming from behind the house.

“IF YOU AREN’T NOW, YOU FUCKING WILL BE!” Another voice followed, but this one was unmistakably female.

“Dude, what the fuck was that? Is that chick okay? Should you like - I don’t know - deal with that or some shit?” Rafe’s blue eyes scan the other man’s face for signs of distress but it was almost like if he hadn’t mentioned it, he wouldn’t have even noticed.

“Nah bro, that’s my cousin. She’s got it, stop trippin. We doin’ this or not?”

There’s a loud crash and then he hears the girl's voice again.

“I TOLD YOU TO GET ON YOUR FUCKING KNEES, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!!!”

“Dude I’m gonna go check it out, that doesn’t sound good.” Rafe isn’t sure why he really gives a shit if this random chick who he hasn’t even seen is alright or not, maybe he’s just high and paranoid. Either way his curiosity gets the best of him and he starts walking towards the back of Barry’s place.

“She doesn’t need your help pretty boy, trust me.” Barry snorts and shakes his head as he begrudgingly follows him.

When Rafe rounds the corner the sight he sees is far from what he was expecting. The man who he heard yelling was shorter than him but more built, probably middle aged, he wore a white tank top and black board shorts and the look in his eyes told him that he was definitely one of Barry’s customers or less reliable dealers. The girl on the other hand? You were half his size, your hair in two braids with ribbons tied at the ends of them, you were wearing a tiny little baby pink tank top and black spandex shorts that barely covered her ass. You had combat boots on your feet that had little white ruffle socks sticking out of the top of them, but what was most shocking? You were holding a Glock in one of your small hands, and the collar of the man’s tank top was gathered in the other. You were standing on your tiptoes whilst also pulling the man down so he was face level with you, the Glock held to his head.

“I said, get on your fucking knees mother fucker, you got a hearing problem or some shit?” You growl at the man and it sends shivers down Rafe’s spine. You were beautiful. He watches as you shove the Glock into the man’s temple and ram your boot clad heel into his thigh causing him to fall to his knees with a grunt.

“Much better.” You smile as you tap his cheek with the gun before bringing it back to the side of his head. “Now, where the fuck is my fucking money?”

“I told you! I told you I don’t fucking have it right now I just need a little time!” The man’s voice is shaky now, his eyes traveling between you and the gun held to his head.

“Time? This isn’t a fucking loan service! Get me my money by tomorrow, or you’re fucked!” Your eyes are filled with fire and you let out a dry laugh.

“What’re you gonna do? Send Barry after me? Where is he at? He knows I always pay, just let me talk to hi-“ He’s cut off abruptly when you hit him across the cheek with the gun.

“SHUT UP!! You’re not fucking talking to Barry, you’re talking to me. If you don’t get my money you aren’t going to have to deal with him, you’re going to have to deal with me. Which I promise you don’t fucking want.” Rafe watches as you lean down into the guy's face, your eyes boring into his, a sinister smile paints your lips, and he isn’t even ashamed of the fact that he felt his cock stir in his pants at your display of dominance over this man twice your size. “Got it??”

“I don’t know how you expect me to get that amount by tomorrow I-“ The man grunts when you hit him in the face with the gun again, his face whipping to the side.

“I said, got it?” You hold the gun between his eyes, your smile never faltering.

“Yeah - yeah! I got it! I got it! Can I go now!?” The man holds his hands by his head in surrender, seemingly not wanting to argue with you further.

“I fucking mean it asshole, tomorrow, by sunset.” You glare at him momentarily before your smile returns, tapping his cheek with the gun again before turning to walk off.

“You aren’t gonna do shit bitch, you’re nothing without that little gun.”

Rafe’s blue eyes widen as he watches the man’s hand reach out and grab for your Glock. He subconsciously takes a step forward in your defense but soon realizes maybe you really don’t need help. Your body whips around, pulling the gun from the guy's reach and shooting him in the foot all in one motion. He screams out in pain, his hands grabbing onto his foot as he falls to the ground.

“Bring me my fucking money. Tomorrow. Or you’re going to be in a lot more pain than that.” You crouch down and spit in the guy's face before walking over him and into the house, letting the door slam shut behind you. Rafe stands there with his dick half hard and his jaw hanging open as he stares at the closed door you just disappeared behind.

“I told you she fuckin’ had it, and don’t even fuckin’ think about it, country club.” Barry’s voice snaps him out of his trance.

“Wha-? Think about what?”

“I see how you’re fuckin’ lookin at her dude, that’s like my sister in there. You stay your messy ass away from her, aight?”

“We should go check on her…” Rafe ignores Barry’s warning, walking towards the house despite his protests.

You let out an agitated groan as you flop down on the couch and toss your Glock on the cushion next to you. You grab a little clear baggy off the coffee table and sprinkle some of the powder onto the small mirror in front of you, using the random gift card you found in your wallet to push a portion of it into a straight line. You grab the rolled dollar bill sitting on the mirror and bring it up to your nose so fucking ready for this line after dealing with that shit head, but right when you bend over the front door slams open, causing you to jump back. Your foot hits the table and the movement makes a mess of your line. You let out a curse under your breath, your eyes rising to glare at your intruder.

You expect Barry, or maybe that fucking idiot really did want to lose a finger today. But instead of the brown eyes of your cousin, or the bloodshot hazel ones of your unreliable dealer, your eyes lock with piercing blue ones. You have to physically stop yourself from gasping at the sight of the man in front of you. He’s tall, really tall, and built, his chest and arms perfectly filling out the blue button up shirt he wore. His chestnut hair looked silky to the touch, his jaw looked perfect for biting, and his face was just all around beautiful. Especially those eyes, the look in them stern. There was something else there you couldn’t quite decipher, it almost seemed possessive.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his voice laced with concern.

“Uh - yeah? Aside from the fact that you just scared the shit out of me and made me knock my line all over the table, I’m just peachy.” You scoff, throwing him a playful smirk and roll of your eyes.

“Country Club here seems to think you’re some kinda damsel in distress or some shit.” Barry walks through the door behind him, smacking his bicep with the back of his hand and laughing loudly.

“Damsel in distress, huh? I don’t think I’d mind if a pretty boy like you came to my rescue.” You bite your bottom lip, your eyes roaming his figure.

“Hell fuckin’ nah! Quit that shit out right now, Bunny. I mean it. I told him the same shit, I don’t want this.” He gestures between you and Rafe. “To be a thing. You two are a recipe for fuckin’ disaster. This is Rafe Cameron, the dude I was tellin’ you about.”

“What the fuck did you tell her about me man?” Rafe’s voice comes out almost panicked and you find yourself wanting to comfort him immediately. You jump up from your seat and walk around the table so you can stand in front of him. He’s even taller up close, you have to tilt your head all the way to meet his eyes and you stop yourself from clenching your thighs at the height difference.

“So this is the guy that killed the sheriff, huh? Pretty boy is a cop killer? I find that kind of sexy…” You twirl a strand of your hair between your fingers, your teeth subconsciously finding your bottom lip again as you look up at him through your lashes.

“Barry, what the hell man? You told her that shit?” He addresses the other man but his eyes don’t leave yours, the look in them changed from concern to defense, and maybe a little lust? He was honestly looking at you like he wanted to choke you to death and this time you really couldn’t stop yourself from clenching your thighs where you stood.

“Hey, I’m not going to rat you out or some shit. Barry gave me the low down on everyone on the island when I moved, if I’m going to work for him I need to know the ins and outs, ya know? He trusts me, if you trust him, you can trust me. I’m cool.” You give him a smile that you hope is reassuring, you aren’t sure why but you want him to trust you.

“Alright.” His eyes search your face, almost as if he’s trying to read your thoughts, to see if you really mean it.

“Alright, we good?” You extend your hand towards him and he takes it in his much larger one, shaking it.

“We’re good.” You go to pull your hand away but he tightens his grasp, keeping it held in his. “You didn’t tell me your name though, or should I just call you, what did Barry call you? Bunny?”

“Bunny is preferred, but you can call me my real name too, if you’d like.” You let your thumb run across the back of his hand as you tell him your name, your eyes never leaving his.

“AIGHT! That’s enough of alla that.” Barry pushes past you, plopping down on the couch he grabs the bong on the coffee table and starts to load it.

“Bare, stop acting like you’re in charge of who I flirt with. I'm a grown ass woman, you're being dramatic.” You scoff, sending him a death glare.

“Seriously man, you’re acting like you’re her dad or some shit.” He chuckles when your cousin flips him off. “I’m sorry about your line by the way, I really just came to check in on you after I saw you arguing with that asshole out there. Let me make it up to you.”

Rafe brings his hand up to your shoulder, running his thumb over the blade a few times before letting it graze down your arm as he walks towards the couch. You watch as he sits down next to Barry and picks up your gift card, expertly lining the fine power back into a nice row before patting the cushion next to him. A smile breaks across your lips as you take the empty seat. He doesn’t miss the way your tits bounce when your ass hits the couch and the smell of your sweet perfume makes his cock twitch.

“For you, pretty girl.” He holds the folded dollar bill up to you with a smirk and you happily take it from him.

“Thanks, cutie.” You wink at him. When you lean down Rafe notices your hair is in your way so like it’s the most casual thing in the world he brings his large hand up to your face and sweeps the straw pieces behind your ear. He pushes the rest of it behind your shoulder and his hand stays there while you inhale through your nostril. His touch doesn’t leave you, even when you lean back against the couch, he simply adjusts it so it’s around your shoulder.

“You gonna flirt with my cousin all goddamn night or are we gonna deal with your little pouge problem?”

“Pouge problem? What’s going on?” You raise your eyebrows, your eyes traveling between Barry and Rafe.

“You remember that little fucker John B I was telling you about? His ass is alive and back on the island.” Barry shakes his head and lets out a dry laugh.

“That’s the kid the cops think killed the sheriff, right? Damn. That’s not good for you, Rafe.” You make eye contact and bite your lip nervously. “Those kids know you actually killed her, don’t they?”

“Yeah, and my fucking sister is with them. Her and John B were there, they saw the whole goddamn thing.” Rafe groans, his hands running through his hair in frustration. “I can’t have them opening their fucking mouths. I just can’t.”

“Then you know what you have to do, right? Shut them the fuck up, once and for all.” Your eyes darken and it reminded him of the way they looked outside, when you were holding a gun to your dealer's head.

“Yeah, no shit dude, that’s why I said we were going to deal with it.” Barry scoffs, rolling his eyes at you.

“Okay, I don’t know what the hell is up with you attitude Bare, but fucking ditch it.” You glare at him as you grab the couch pillow next to you and throw it at his face.

“Oh? You wanna fuckin’ go bruh?” Your cousin grins at you, gripping the pillow in his hand and swinging it over Rafe’s body, directly into your face with a cackle.

“Oh you mother fucker!” You let out a laugh, your hands go for the pillow but it’s ripped from your grasp.

“CUT IT THE FUCK OUT!!” Rafe takes the pillow in his large ringed hand and throws it across the room causing you to jump, your smile falling. “Barry, are you gonna help me or not man?”

“Hey.” Your eyes are soft again, you put your hand on his chest and rub soft circles onto his skin through his shirt with the pad of your thumb. “He’s going to help you, and I will too. We were just fucking around, everything’s alright. You’re probably under a lot of stress, huh? Poor thing.”

Rafe isn’t exactly sure how to react. No one has ever taken his anger and looked at it as more than just that, anger, yet here you are knowing him for all of ten minutes and the minute he loses his temper you see it for what it is, stress. Plus you’re kind of coddling him, and he’s never had anyone coddle him before. He almost feels speechless.

“I’m not gonna suck your dick about it like she is but I’m gonna help you man, fuckin’ relax. We doin’ this shit tonight?” Barry cracks his knuckles and kicks his feet up on the coffee table, earning an immediate glare from you. He scoffs, taking his feet off the table with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t know why you care so much if my feet are on the table dude, it’s my fuckin’ table anyways.”

“The drugs I put inside my nose are on this table, I don’t want your dirty ass shoes on it. It's common sense really.” He rolls his eyes and you flip him off, sticking your tongue out at him.

“Yeah man, tonight. I want to give this shit over with. I bet you anything they’re at John B’s. They’re stupid enough to go there.” Rafe’s hand is tapping on his already shaking leg and you can tell he’s anxious, you reach out and grab it, stopping his motions. He doesn’t look at you, but he intertwines your fingers, his hand squeezing yours. You squeeze his back and bring your other hand to his bicep so you can rub soothing circles on it. He lets out a sigh. “Once it’s dark, then they won’t see us coming.”

“Aight, let’s do this shit. Bunny, you in?” Barry raises a brow at you, his eyes lingering on the way you’re touching Rafe. “Also, I thought I said I didn’t want this to be a thing.”

“It could be dangerous, I don’t know if you should come, I wouldn't want anything to happen to you.” Rafe answers before you can, his hand squeezing yours again in what you assume is supposed to be reassurance but it actually just pisses you off.

“Okay.” Your voice is stern, your hands leave him as you stand from the couch and he immediately misses your touch. “I wanna get something straight, right fucking now. I am not some weak little girl who sits at home while all the fun shit goes down. If that’s the kinda girl you’re into, you are not going to find that with me. I’m a ride or die type of bitch. If my man is in trouble, I’m helping him. So if you want this to be a ‘thing’ as Barry is calling it, then I suggest you accept that sooner rather than later.”

“And you, have no fucking say in who I do and don’t engage with sexually or romatically. Me and Rafe clearly have chemistry and I could tell that the moment I locked eyes with him, so you’re just going to have to get the fuck over it. Are we clear? Both of you?” You look between them, your hands on your hips and that fire Rafe is already becoming addicted to in your eyes.

“Whatever, your lil ass has always been fuckin’ impossible to control. If this blows up in your face I’m gonna say I told you so, cuz.” Barry snorts.

“Yeah baby, I got it.” Rafe cuts in, sending a shockwave through your body with the pet name. “I saw you out there with that guy, you might be tougher than Barry.”

This makes you smile, your eyes turning soft as you approach him on the couch. This time you don’t take the seat next to him, you sit across his lap, facing your cousin with a triumphant smile. Rafe's arm circles around your waist and you nestle in closer to him.

“Alright then. Glad we are all on the same page now. So what’s the plan?”

“FUCK!!!!” Rafe was pissed, he threw himself into the driver's seat of his truck, slamming his hands down on the wheel. “FUCKING BULLSHIT!! THEY HAD TO OF JUST BEEN FUCKING BEEN THERE! POUGE FOR LIFE SARAH?! HUH?! I SEE HOW IT FUCKING IS!!”

“Rafe…” You approach the open driver's door, gently resting your hand on top of one of his that was white knuckling the steering wheel. Completely unafraid, despite the fact that he’s still holding the gun Barry gave him in his other hand. “Let’s just calm down for a second, okay? We’re gonna work it out, they aren’t going to fuck with you.”

“ARE YOU SERIOUS? I’M FUCKED! YOU DON’T FUCKING GET IT! YOU DON’T KNOW MY FUCKING DAD! YOU DON’T KNOW MY FAMILY, IF IT COMES BETWEEN ME AND MY GODDAMN SISTER HE’S GONNA FUCKING CHOOSE HER!!!” His hands leave the wheel, weaving through his hair and tugging, the gun pressed up against the side of his face.

“Hey.” You put your hands over his, turning his face towards yours. “I might not know about all that shit, maybe not yet at least, but I know that when I say I’m going to do something I get it done. You aren’t alone in this, I’m going to help you, okay?”

Your voice is sweet, the look in your eyes is gentle and reassuring, and your hands? They’re so soft, and cool against his face, the feeling of them soothes him in a way he’s never felt before. He lets out a sigh, relaxing under your touch.

“We are going to deal with this, but for right now we need to get the fuck out of here. Those gunshots could’ve caught someone’s attention.” You run your thumbs over the top of his hands before grabbing onto the gun, pulling it from his grasp with a smile. You tuck it into your boot and lean up onto your tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Yeah, alright.” He nods, his hands smoothing through his hair.

You walk around the front of the truck so you can hop into the passenger seat, Barry already sat in the back anxiously bouncing his leg.

“Okay, let’s take Barry back to the house and then I think you and I should go somewhere together.” You buckle your seatbelt and turn to face him.

“Yeah? Where?” He shoves the keys in the ignition and puts the truck in drive, pulling away from the Châtea and into the night.

“Just trust me, I know a spot.” You kick your feet up on the dash, reaching into your purse for a cigarette and your lighter.

“Every instinct in my body is telling me to tell you to bring your ass home with me, but you’re not gonna listen to me for shit so I’m not gonna waste my breath. Gimme one of those fuckin’ cigarettes though.” Barry leans forward, snatching the entire pack and your lighter from your hands.

“Yeah, you’re better off not arguing with me Bare. Fucking give those back though, dick.” He rolls his eyes, lighting the cigarette he took from your pack before throwing it back to you.

“Yeah whatever, just fuckin’ take me home man.”

“Okay, take a left here and on your right you’re gonna see a little road that goes through these trees.” You point out the window, directing Rafe as he drives.

“Where the hell are you taking me, huh? You taking me out somewhere quiet to sacrifice me?” He chuckles, looking over at you with a smirk.

“Mmm, I bet you’d like that, huh? Preppy rich boys like you always like the fucked up alternative girls from the sticks.” You return his smirk with one of your own.

“Ha! I guess you’re right, I wouldn’t mind if you spilled a little bit of my blood, as long as I could spill yours too…” he reaches the end of the road, driving into a clearing in the trees, a patch of lone beach in front of you.

“Yeah? That’s hot. Stop here.” He obliges, putting the truck into park and taking off his seatbelt. You do the same, turning towards him with your legs tucked underneath you.

“What’re we really doing out here, vampire girl?” His eyes meet yours momentarily before the trail down your body, taking extra time to admire your tits in your top.

“Mmm, well, I know you’re really stressed and I just thought… maybe you could take some of your frustrations out on me?” You lock eyes with him, your tongue running over your bottom lip before you take it between your teeth.

“Yeah? You brought me out here so I would fuck the shit out of you?” He licks his lips, his large hand reaches out to rest on your thigh, squeezing the meat of it between his fingers.

“Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t want to take me home after that shit you said about your family and Barry would probably either kill us both or have a stroke if you fucked me how I want you to fuck me at my place.” You said it oh so matter of fact, that smirk ever present on your lips.

“And how do you want me to fuck you? Huh, bunny?” His hand runs along the length of your thigh, stopping at the hem of your shorts. He grabs onto it, the tips of his thumb and his pinky just dipping under the fabric.

“I want you to fuck me like you hate me, take your frustrations out on me, Rafe. Use me.” Your voice comes out desperate and it makes him groan.

“I’ve barely even touched you yet and you’re already practically begging for me… you wanna be my little slut, that it?” His thumb runs down the seam of your shorts, stopping at your wet core. “You’re fucking dripping. I can feel it through your panties.”

“It’s all for you, want you, want to be your little slut so bad.”

“Fuck.” The hand not on your thigh reaches for your throat, squeezing it and cutting off your air supply in the most delicious way. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

He uses his grip on your throat to pull your face to his, smashing his lips against your own in a bruising kiss. You moan against his mouth and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. You bring your hands up to tangle your fingers through his hair at the same time that his hand on your thigh pushes your shorts and panties to the side, burying two fingers in your wet cunt with little resistance. He begins pumping them in and out of you while his grip on your throat never falters. He pulls away from the kiss, his blue eyes almost black with lust as they bore into your own. His thumb finds your clit and your back arches, a loud moan ripping through you.

“Open your fucking mouth.” You oblige, sticking your tongue out and looking up at him through your lashes. He leans over you and lets a string of spit drop onto your waiting tongue. You moan as you happily swallow it. “Good girl. Want you to cum for me.”

His fingers hook just right inside you, rubbing against your g-spot and his thumb circles your clit perfectly. You feel your high approaching fast, you push your tank top down, letting your braless tits fall free. You grab them in your hands, tweaking your nipples, it causes your eyes to roll back and you feel that coil in your stomach about to snap. Rafe’s hand leaves your throat and grips onto your jaw in one swift motion.

“Fucking look at me when I make you cum.” He squeezes your cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger, causing your lips to pout. “I own this pussy now, that means I own your orgasms too, look at me while I take what’s mine.”

You open your eyes, and the minute they meet his your high crashes over you like a tidal wave. A broken moan leaves your throat and your walls clench around his large fingers as they continue to fuck you through your high. He pulls them from your pussy, holding them up to his face to examine them. They’re creamy white and glistening in the moonlight. You grab his wrist and take them into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. He growls in response, shoving them further down your throat. You gag and he licks his lips, the sound going straight to his cock.

“Fuck, wanna feel you gagging around my dick. Get out of the truck and get on your knees, now.” He pulls his fingers from between your lips and takes them into his own mouth. The taste of your spit mixed with the remainder of your arousal sending his eyes to the back of his head. You follow his direction, hastily throwing the truck door open and getting out. You start to walk around the back and he stops you halfway, grabbing you by the hair so he can pull your head back, forcing you to look up at him. “I’m going to fuck this pretty little mouth while you kneel in the sand like the dirty slut you are. Bet you’d like that, huh?”

You nod as best as you can with the grip he has on your head, that sickeningly sweet smirk from when he first saw you earlier that day spread across your lips.

“Yeah, daddy, I want you to use my mouth like a fucking cock sleeve.” His eyes widen and a groan rips through him at the sound of that name leaving your lips.

“Fuck. Take this off.” He grabs the hem of your tank top and you lift your arms so he can pull it over your head. He takes your tits in his hands and squeezes them, the coolness of them sending a shiver down your spine and straight to your core, your nipples hardening under his touch. “Fucking perfect tits. Knees. Now.”

You drop to your knees and eagerly reach for the button on his shorts undoing it and his zipper in one swift motion. His cock is straining against his black boxers and your mouth waters at the sight. You pull his shorts and boxers down and it springs free, thick and hard and leaking just for you. You knew he would be big, but goddamn his cock is huge.

“Mmm daddy, you’re so big, fuck.” You spit on your hand and bring it to his shaft, lightly stroking him. That bead of precum on his head is practically begging you to taste it so you lean forward and lick his slit with the tip of your tongue. You circle his tip before taking it in your mouth and sucking eagerly.

“Yeah, that’s right baby, suck daddy’s cock.” His hands grab onto your braids like makeshift handlebars and he uses his grip to push himself all the way down your throat, causing you to gag around him. He holds your head there for a few seconds before pulling you off with a pop. Your mouth subconsciously chases his taste. “Oh you’re such an eager little whore huh? You like that? You like gagging on my cock?”

You nod and his grip on your hair tightens, pulling your head back so you’re looking up into his eyes.

“Fuckin’ answer me when I’m talking to you.”

“Yes - yes daddy, I fucking love it.”

“That’s what I thought.” He smirks down at you, shoving his cock back into your mouth and immediately thrusting into your throat. You gag and your eyes water, your mascara already starting to run down your cheeks. “God. Fucking look at you, I can see my cock in your throat baby.”

So much drool is dripping out of the sides of your mouth that it’s started to run down your chest and onto your tits. You swipe your fingers through it, wetting them before bringing them to his balls, caressing them in your lubed up hand.

“Oh fuck! Yeah, shiiiiit, play with my fucking balls, that’s so fucking good.” You look up at him and his head is thrown back, his neck on display, you can see all the veins in his biceps and the moans leaving him are feral. Your pussy clenches around nothing at the sight. Your hand travels between your legs and into your little spandex shorts, expertly finding your already slick clit and rubbing quick circles over it. Your moans increase in volume and it causes him to glance down at you, taking notice of your hand in your shorts.

“Hey, what the fuck did I say huh?” He pulls you off of him, bending at the waist so his face is hovering over yours. “I said that’s my fucking pussy, that means I’m the only one who gets to make you cum. Get up.”

He lets go of your hair, grabbing you underneath your arms and pulling you to your feet. He turns towards the truck and rips the bed open, grabbing onto your hips and roughly turning you. He pushes down on your back, and you take the hint, bending at the waist so your top half is against the truck bed. The plastic floor is cool and rough against your nipples and your lower half hangs off the truck, your feet not touching the ground. A harsh smack lands on your ass, causing you to help and jolt forward.

“You’re not so tough now, huh, vampire girl? Your pathetic dealers know you’re just a little slut who likes to get thrown around? Or is that just for me?” He grabs onto your shorts and panties, ripping them down to your ankles where they pool at the top of your boots. “Look at you, you’re so fucking wet.”

He drops to his knees, his tongue licking a stripe from your clit to your asshole and back again. He sucks your sensitive bud into his mouth and his hand comes down on your ass again. You feel like you’re going to cum embarrassingly soon. His fingers run through your slick lips before they’re sliding inside you, immediately hooking into your sweet spot. You cum suddenly and hard, your whole body shaking underneath him.

“Please fuck me now daddy, please, I want your cock so bad” you voice is whiney and you shake your ass from side to side, arching your back so it’s further on display for him.

“Quit begging, I’m gonna give you what you want, don’t be a greedy brat.” He stands, two harsh smacks landing on your ass. He takes his cock in his hand and runs the head through your slit, coating it in your wetness. He pushes into you in one swift motion, and immediately starts fucking you at a brutal pace.

“Yes! Fuck! You’re so big, feels so full.” Your voice is a breathy moan, his cock feels like it’s in your lungs and the door to the truck bed is digging into your hips but god it feels so good. His hands are grabbing your hips so roughly that you think his nails might be drawing blood, and god you hope they are. You want him to mark you as his, anywhere and everywhere.

“Fuuuuck, you’re so fucking tight, gripping my cock so good. This pussy was fucking made for me. Say it.” He leans over you, practically crushing you, but his cock hits even deeper than before and his mouth latches onto your neck and it’s like he read your mind because he starts to roughly suck and bite into your skin. Definitely leaving marks behind. “Say it. Say this pussy was made for me.”

“This pussy was fucking made for you, daddy.” You arch your back, pushing your ass back against him the best you can with your limited movement, wanting to feel every ridge and vein of him as deep inside you as possible.

“Yeah it fucking was.” He leans back, his hand gripping onto your hair again so he can pull your back against his chest. The sting of the truck against your hips at an all time high. He releases your hair so he can grip onto your throat instead, his other hand coming down to rub your clit. The feelings of pain mixed with pleasure sending you closer and closer to another orgasm. “You gonna cum already? I can feel you tightening around my cock baby girl.”

“Yeah - yeah I’m - fuck - I’m gonna cum for you daddy, you just feel sofuckinggood.” You’re a drooling whimpering mess and the coil is seconds away from snapping when he stops his movements and pulls out of you, taking your orgasm with him. “Hey what-“

Before you can protest he grips onto your hips, flipping you over onto your back. He grabs your throat and pulls you into a sitting position, grabbing onto your thigh with his other hand so he can pull you to the edge of the truck.

“I told you, I want you to look at me when you cum. You owe me for that last one.” He slams his cock into you, continuing to fuck you like his life depends on it. His thumb finds your clit again and his mouth latches onto your neck, biting down so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if you had a bruise in the shape of his teeth marks. You’d get it tattooed if he wanted. You already knew at that moment this man had ruined all other men for you. He had you.

“Fuck - fuck daddy, I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum”

“Fucking cum for me, I’ll fill this little pussy up, paint your walls with my cum. Milk my cock, slut.”

His words send you over the edge, cumming harder than you have all night. Your walls convulse around him and your nails rake down his back, leaving red marks in their wake. But that’s not what does him in, it’s the fact that you never break eye contact with him for a second. Obeying him like the good girl you are.

“Fuck! Good fucking girl, best fucking pussy I’ve ever had. Never gonna leave you alone now. Never quitting this pussy.” He cums with a growl, shoving his cock deep inside you. He fucks you through his high, his thrusts never letting up, his face shoved into your neck. When he finally starts to come down he lets his softening cock slip out of you, his lips finding yours and kissing you with fever.

“Never quittting this pussy, huh, pretty boy? That��s a bold statement to make about a girl you just met.” You smirk at him, taking his face in his hands and caressing his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Don’t fucking care, I meant every word. You’re fucking mine now.” He turns his head to the side, placing a kiss on the inside of your palm.

“Does that mean you’re mine too? I don’t do one sided bullshit.”

“Yeah baby, that means I’m yours too. Come on, get your clothes on, let’s get the fuck out of here.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips, grabbing your clothes off the sandy ground and shaking them out before handing them to you.

“You gonna take me home now? Barry is just gonna love all the hickies I know you left on my neck.” You smirk at him, pulling your shirt over your head.

“Nah, I’m bringing you home with me. Gonna fuck you all night long.” He cups your jaw in his hand, his thumb running over your bottom lip.

“What about your family?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Fuck em, you’re my girl now, they’re going to have to get used to it. Get your ass in the truck, I wanna fuck you in my shower.”

You giggle, running around to jump in the truck. You didn’t even see his family that night. But they definitely heard Rafe making good on his promise to fuck you all night long and you couldn’t even find it in yourself to feel bad. Not that night, and not the next morning when he introduced you to his dad and step mom while they had disgusted looks on their faces. You just smiled, happily shaking their hands like you weren’t calling their son daddy until the sun came up.

Tagging moots who might be interested: @chrrymunson @emsgoodthinkin @imyourdaninow 🖤

#rafe Cameron #rafe OBX #rafe Cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe Cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron x fem!reader #Dolly writes

[xoxokaulitz]

Make up sex w tokio hotel🤗

No pacific pronouns, can be seen as any gender. requests open<3

2008 n up will make a 2023 one

Bill

We all know bill is hella scary when he's mad, so you'd back down but he'd still be mad.

Definitely would curse at you in German

Would say "Scheiße" a lot

Definitely would run his hand through his hair and sigh..🤗 lawd have mercy

"I'm holding myself back for you, liebe. Please do not test me right now.”

Would sing LOUD ASF and pretend he couldn't hear you. When you would try to talk to him he would sing even louder.

"Bill! I am talking to you, don't act like you can't fucking hear me!"

You'd get enough you'd kiss him to shut him up.

Now..

He'd definitely degrade you a lot. No doubt.

He'd even call you his fuck toy and doll.

"Hm? You wanna cum? No, you decided to be a fucking bitch this morning, so now your gonna take me like the slut you are."

If you'd beg him he would pretend to think and then say no.☠️

Tom

He's scary but not that scary as Bill.

He would definitely like chuckle angrily and move around a lot.

"I'm a asshole? What's new, its not like I never heard that word come out of someone's mouth."

Would play his guitar to cool down. If you tried to talk to him he would lose it.

He'd say; "What? Are you coming back to bitch at me?' In German and then scoff and continue playing.

He would definitely try to play his guitar aggressive and loudly and then be like "I can't hear you." Knowing damn well he can😒.

He would also put on music and pretend he can't hear you. He wouldn't care when you came in the room he made his practice room in your house.

You would get enough and crash your lips onto his, and it would get more heated.

Touching on your waist a lot.🤭

"Hm? What was that? You wanna cum? Nuh uh, you were being a bitch earlier and now you wanna cum? No, your gonna sit here and let me use this tight hole."

Georg

Bro

This mf is imitating when he's mad omfg..

He would say nothing and let you yell at him, he would death stare at while sitting there all imitating n shit😭

"Look, you know what, l'm just gonna go upstairs and play on my guitar."

You'd get so fucking heated omg

"Georg are you serious?! You do this every fucking argument! You go huddle yourself in your practice room, and at like nothing is wrong!"

He would slam his practice door room and you'd bust right back in. "Georg Listing! Who the fuck you think are you slamming this fucking door in my face!"

You would be yelling at him and he would get enough and put his guitar down and walk up to you with that imitating ass look omg 😭you'd start backing up while stuttering on your words🫢.

You'd back onto his table and he'd put his hands on the side of the table. "I'm so fucking sick of your yapping."

And then he would kiss you aggressively while y'all moving y'all's heads to the sides.

He would grab the hair tie off your arm because you kept it there for him when he needed one, and he tied his hair in a ponytail.

Would praise you! Also would kinda grip your hair.. 🤗

"So good for me, very good for me." He said while grabbing your hair while he face fucked you. He would definitely lay you on the table in his practice room while fucking the emotions out of u.

Gustav

He would get so mad at a point every sentence he speaks has a curse word in it.

He would take off his hat in frustration and run his fingers through his hair and then put it back on.🤭

“Schatz will you—“

You’d be so mad you wouldn’t hear him calling you and then he just screamed at you💔.

“SCHATZ! I’m not dealing with this right now!! I had a long day with the band, and I’m tired! Leave me!”

He’d storm off and go play his drums HELLA LOUD and fast.

You open the door and slammed it and then went off at him. You know he couldn’t hear you well, but it was a good stress reliever to get everything out that’s been bothering you.

You got so mad and then left. You knew he wasn’t gonna stop anytime soon.

He come back later after showering and cooling down and lay in bed with you. He would start kissing your neck and rubbing all over. “Liebe..I’m sorry for yelling at you..”

You couldn’t help but cry, because Gustav never raised his voice at you, ever. If you did he wouldn’t, he never liked having arguments with you.

He would hear you and turn you over and immediately get sad. “No no no..liebe…” He would at in such a sad voice. He would kiss all over you and wipe your tears.

Then..he kisses your lips and you didn’t wanna pull anyway and it became more heated🤭.

He would praise the fuck out of you😭

“Your so beautiful meine liebe..I’m obsessed.”

Missionary, he wanna see how good he’s fucking his baby. He will definitely pound harder when he feels you tightening around him.

He would go to fucking crazy and he would have no choice but to degrade you.

“Fuck, your gonna cum? Your gonna cum huh? That’s right baby, come on this dick, come on this fucking dick like the slut you are!”

that was a roller coaster 🫢

hello everyone!! i had this account for a year but never posted omg😭. i have a huge passion for writing but not as much as i love dancing! but u kinda get it!

i am currently accepting requests, but i will make on what to NOT request for them!!

banner made by tokiosaturn0 on Pinterest, I only use this one and the black one they made!! if u are the artist themselves and want removal DM me!!

#tokio hotel smut #bill kaulitz #tom kaulitz #gustav schäfer #georg listing #bill kaulitz smut #gender neutral reader #no pronouns #tom kaulitz smut #gustav schäfer smut #georg listing smut #tokio hotel #2000s blog

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 1

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships.* Abusive relationship, getting *out* of an abusive relationship, alcoholism, alcohol, mention of sleeping in a car. Summary: One of the worst days of your life takes a sharp right turn into the unexpected when you learn of the death of a long-lost relative. Notes: It's heeeere! Spooky season has officially arrived and with it comes our annual spooky-themed soulmate story! Bringing our two canonical vampires together is going to be endless shenanigans. 🧛‍♂️🧡 Since this story is mostly set inside one of the mansions that I work in, we're planning on using photos of the house as chapter headers some of the time. Visual reference fun!

"Hurry up and get your shit." The drunken bellow from downstairs is followed up by a loud crash, another curse and a thump as your boyfriend – ex-boyfriend – continues to throw the equivalent of a temper tantrum. It hadn't been the first time you've fought, or that the asshole had threatened to throw you out on your ass, but the fist sized hole in the wall that had only been an inch from your face was new, escalating violence.

"Lazy, good for nothing cunt! I work all goddamn day and you couldn't even fucking do what I asked!"

It's not that you don't work. Or that you didn't work. But after getting fired four days ago following yet another day calling out of work to clean up some mess caused by your boyfriend, your manager had said it was the final straw and sent you packing. Since then you had tried to clean up the house, get the back-log of laundry out of the way, and at least make a nice dinner while you applied for new jobs. It isn't your fault that the neighbor's dog got into your yard and ripped a hole in one of his shirts on the clothesline. There is absolutely no way you could have done anything about it. But it is the thing that sent him over the deep end this time and has him screaming at you yet again.

Running upstairs was the best thing you could do to get away from his fist, and now you're just praying that you have enough trash bags in the house to cram your stuff into before he decides to come after you again. You'll be sleeping in your car tonight, but at least all the locks on the doors work. You can manage a few nights in a securely locked car. It's just...that you're not quite sure where you'll go after that.

The sound of the top to a Natural Light beer being cracked open sounds from the base of the stairwell and he takes several loud gulps. Belching from drinking too fast and hitting the wall with the flat of his hand. "Come on, bitch!" He calls out. "I ain't got all night!"

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you pace back to the top of the stairwell and lean down so you can actually see him. Ten goddamn years with this man and this is how it ends. "I'll be gone by the time you get home," you promise him, the resignation obvious in your voice. He'll go to the bar to see his friends like he does after he eats dinner almost every night. You've never been the kind of girlfriend to stop him from seeing his friends, so they have had a routine for almost as many years as you've been together.

"Good." He glares up at you and points a finger. "You better not take any of my shit either." He warns you. "Tired of taking care of your stupid ass. You're in for a rude wake up call. Shit's not easy out there." He burps again and turns around to stumble down the hall. "You are such a disappointment." He yells out before opening the front door and letting it slam behind him, rattling the windows.

"Yeah." You sigh, shaking your head with one of those cheap fleece throw blankets in your hand. It has ballet slippers on it, a relic of a childhood long dream long forgotten. "I know I am." Holding up the blanket to look at it more closely, you debate throwing the damn thing out entirely, but it will keep you warm in the car tonight. It will go into a trash bag along with everything else.

As soon as the blanket is shoved in with your two miniature throw pillows, your phone goes off in your pocket. Expecting it to be Derek, ready to yell at you some more, you're surprised to see Private splashed across the screen instead. If you don't answer it and it is him for any reason, there will be hell to pay. "Hello?"

The smooth, cultured voice on the other end of the line is slightly raspy. As if the person has spent a lifetime swallowing brandy and smoking cigars, or had spent all day talking. In actuality, both of those things are true. Your name is spoken in the form of a question. Asking if he had reached the right person.

"Speaking." The automatic answer doesn't make you feel any less confused, but at least they aren't yelling at you. "Can I ask who's calling, please?"

"Antonio Colette," He tells you quickly. "With Colette and Dupree. I am calling about your late, great aunt, Etienne Brown." He shuffles through the papers to bring up the will that had been laid out, along with the investigators report on you. It was how he had found your current number. "I am executing her estate and quite frankly, it has been a search to find you."

"I'm sorry," you shake your head against the phone as though the man could possibly see you. "I don't know anyone by that name. My, um...I don't know a lot of my family. But that isn't a name I recognize. Maybe you have the wrong person?" There is no reason that any family member you've never heard of would have left you anything in a will, so he must have the wrong number. That's the only explanation you can think of.

"No, ma'am." He tells you. "I don't think I have the wrong person. Is this not a good time to talk?" He can hear something in your voice, and while most were always happy to inherit something, you might have pressing matters to attend to.

Hesitating for a reason you can't quite put your finger on, you glance out the window in the corner of your now former bedroom, the one that overlooks the driveway. Derek's truck is gone, and your shoulders slump a little. You have hours until he comes home now. Usually it's not until after last call. "No...no it's okay. I'm just...not having a great day. What did you want to speak to me about?"

"Ms. Brown was very particular about her will. As executor of the estate, it is my duty to make sure that her last wishes are carried out. As there is no other living relative on your mother's side, she decided that you would be the sole heir of her estate." He explains. "This includes the eight-bedroom mansion and the trust that has been established to pay for the manor. Her private accounts. The total combined monetary worth of twelve point two million dollars."

The crash that he hears from your side of the phone call is you falling over – a product of your legs giving out the second he said the word mansion and then losing your balance all over again at the sum total of the estate. "Wh—what?" You manage to breathe, barely managing not to break down in tears all over again. For an entirely different reason, this time.

"Of course, there is one issue that you must be made aware of." He's used to people being surprised, so he doesn't try to explain. You will soon be holding paperwork that you can read again and again if needed. "There are two tenants in the mansion. Ms. Brown has given them a lifetime estate on the rooms they occupy." He tells you. "Meaning they live there for as long as they wish."

"O—okay..." As fast as your mind can possibly turn, you still feel like you can't quite keep up with it, and you end up curled up at the foot of your bed hugging the throw blanket that was still in your hands when your phone rang. "So...I just...get a mansion? And twe—twelve million dollars? And the only caveat is that I have two tenants?" None of it makes any sense, but you'll be damned if it doesn't sound like the perfect way out of the hell that you've found yourself in.

“Pretty much.” Antonio agrees. “When would you be available to tour the property and sign some paperwork?” He asks, flipping over to his calendar to pencil you in.

"I—" Stumbling again, your forehead drops onto the pillow clutched against your chest before you tip your head back and stare up at the mottled ceiling. "I guess...as soon as I can get there?" It's not as though you have anything else to do at the moment. Or even anyone to tell where you're going. "But, can I ask? Um...where exactly is this house?"

“Newport, Rhode Island.” He supplies. “I must confess that I could not find a current address for you, just this phone number, so I am not quite sure where you are traveling from.

"Dandridge, Tennessee." Six years you've lived in this town and it never felt like home, but maybe now that's for the best. With a sigh, you try to think if you've ever even heard of Newport, Rhode Island and come up entirely blank other than knowing that Rhode Island is in New England. Which is a pretty decent drive away. "It might take me a few days to drive up there. Maybe two days? Depending on how late into the night I drive."

“That’s fine.” Colette agrees. “I will give you my number. If you find yourself here quicker than you anticipate, give me a call and I can meet you with the keys.”

"Okay." For a second the brief fear that your car might not even last a two-day drive flashes through your mind but you push it aside and let out a sigh in favor of sitting up to grab the pen off your nearby desk so you can take down the lawyer's phone number. "I...um...thank you, Mr. Colette. This is..." It's insane. It's completely insane and you can't even wrap your head around it. "It's life changing."

“I will see you in two days.” Mr. Colette responds and then ends the call before he sighs. Dropping his head into his hand, he rubs his temple. Whoever you are, he feels sorry for you. No way you know what the hell you are getting into.

******

The first night you're honestly exhausted, and you end up sleeping in your packed-full car behind the twenty-four-hour diner with the really nice waitresses that don't get upset that you need a safe place to park for one night. Telling them that you're moving had done the trick, and the extremely kind pair of women had gotten their line cook to whip you up a sandwich for dinner and one more to take with you when you left town in the morning.

The gps on your phone – thank god the bill is in your name – says that it will take thirteen hours and thirty-seven minutes of driving. Deciding to go, go, go as best you can, you leave town at sunrise and end up crossing the border into Rhode Island at almost eleven that same night. Stopping for bathroom breaks and to gas up the car – plus traffic, of course – has cost some time, but you made it. Now all you had to do was make the last leg of the journey out to Newport. Surprised to find that Newport is actually on an island (didn't you learn at one point that Rhode Island isn't an island?) you pull into a truck stop to finally sleep for the night. You'll do the last forty-five minutes of the drive in the morning.

******

Feeling and probably looking like shit the next morning is the price you pay for getting here quickly, but you call the lawyer at nine in the morning when his office's website says it opens and arrange to meet him at the address he gives you. Bellevue Avenue just sounds fancy, and when you get to the island you realize why. This entire town seems filled to the brim with mansions, expensive shops, and swanky restaurants.

Antonio had been surprised that you had driven through the night, but perhaps he shouldn't have been. He gives you the address to his offices and tells his secretary to make sure that there is a good selection of bagels and muffins out this morning in case you would like something while you go over the paperwork. You are a very important client, and he would like to keep you if possible.

Tired and more than a little ragged, you pull your car up to the office on Thames Street and cut the engine with a sigh. There’s a lot of touristy stuff around, especially on this part of the island, and that means you haven’t seen a single dingy diner or fast food drive-up since you got here. Everything is expensive cafes and fancy restaurants. The thought that you might have to skip breakfast is discouraging until you walk into the lawyer’s office tentatively and smell coffee.

"Good morning." Raquel stands from behind her desk and smooths her pencil skirt down before she walks around the desk. Antonio and his partner prefer that she personally greet each client and she doesn't let her facial expression change from one of welcome when she sees the tired, beaten down appearance of the woman who walked into the door. Her heart clenches at the sight and even if you are not the client that he had been expecting, she will invite you to have some coffee and pastries while she waits for someone to work you into their calendar. "May I help you?" She asks as she offers her manicured hand to shake.

“I—I’m here to see Mr. Colette.” You give her your name along with the handshake she obviously expects, and try to shake the feeling that that smile of hers is probably plastered on. Of course it is. It’s first thing in the morning and she works in a law office.

"Of course." You are the important client, so she immediately waves you to the glass doors. "Please follow me." She tells you. "Mr. Colette is getting all the necessary documents together, but we have tea, coffee, bagels, and some delicious pastries available while you wait?" She wants you to feel comfortable as she walks you down the short hall to the smaller conference room where she had set everything up for the meeting.

“Thank you.” It doesn’t make one single bit of sense to you that they’ve gone through all this trouble, but this long-lost great aunt of yours must have been an important client. Maybe they think you’re important too? Well – they’ll be disabused of that idea pretty soon.

"Please let me know if there is anything I can get you." She senses that you aren't comfortable and she doesn't want to crowd you or do anything to upset you. "I'll let Mr. Colette know you are here."

There are a few minutes to wait, sitting in that conference room surrounded by food that you don’t dare touch, and you end up staring blankly at a photograph on the wall of a yacht on the ocean. It’s almost trance-like, how you sit there and stare, and you end up nearly jumping out of your seat when the heavy wooden doors open again and an elegant looking, well-dressed man walks through flanked by the woman who greeted you.

“Good morning.” Antonio smiles as he assesses the woman who had inherited a fortune and more. He is aware of the details of the will and the history behind it, so he feels like this is personal. “We will have quite a few things to go through, so if you don’t mind, I’m going to make myself a plate.” He chuckles. “No breakfast yet and I’m hungry.”

“Of course.” It’s a little bit like permission, and you feel comfortable enough pouring a cup of black coffee and putting a croissant on a plate for yourself when Mr. Colette motions for you to join him. In a few mere moments the three of you are sitting down at the conference table and Raquel presents her boss with a thick folder of paperwork in a leather sleeve and takes out her own notebook in turn.

“Now.” Antonio looks down at the paperwork and then back up at you. “Thank you for coming so quickly.” He starts off with. “Hopefully this transition will be seamless for you and perhaps after this I can show you around your new home?”

“It still doesn’t feel very real,” you admit, carefully sipping your hot coffee and looking down at the papers in front of him. “And you said there’s two other people…already living there?”

“Yes.” He nods. “Family friends of Ms. Brown.” He tells you vaguely.

“Alright.” Already you’ve made up your mind not to bother them, these people who live in a house that you’re inheriting out of nowhere. Who are you to intrude in their lives? “I assume there’s a lot of paperwork? I’ve never owned a house before so this is all new to me.”

“The taxes and the maintenance for the home are paid out of the trust. So you do not need to worry about that. If anything happens, call and we will take care of getting the bill paid.” He explains. “I’ve already taken the liberty of ordering you debit cards and credit cards.” He pulls out an envelope and slides it over to you. “All of them are active and ready to use.”

So people really live like this, huh? is all you can think to yourself as the lawyer’s secretary also sets a card down in front of you that has a man’s name and phone number with the title of caretaker listed on it. That along with the cards already has your head spinning, but then a set of keys is set down on the table as well. Front door. Kitchen door. Terrace doors. Each antique key is labeled carefully with a tag in elegant handwriting. Closets. Attic storage. Utility closet. It’s so much to take in — too much, arguably — and then a set of car keys is added to the pile. “What’s this?” You ask, already starting to feel your head spin a little.

“This is the car.” Antonio tells you. “The 1963 Chevrolet Corvette Stingray that Ms. Brown also willed to you.” He hums. “I have all the maintenance records for the car here as well. Her other cars were sold or given away before she died, but this one conveyed with her other belongings to you. I believe she said, ‘it goes with the house’.”

“I—um—wow…” Not that you know much about cars, but it sounds impressive and you’re momentarily thankful that you’ve been driving stick for the last few years, since your broken-down third-hand Volvo came into your life. “Are there any more surprises I should be aware of?”

“I’m not exactly sure what you will consider surprises.” The lawyer chuckles and slides a scrap of paper towards you. “The combination to the safe. It’s where the collection of Ms. Brown’s jewelry is.”

A safe full of jewels, a presumably fancy vintage car, a mansion, and a literal fortune? Frankly, it’s all a surprise. “If this house comes with servants I might black out,” you warn jokingly, staring at the slip of paper with the safe combination like it’s a foreign language.

“Well, the staff is paid from the trust.” He tells you seriously. “If you wish to make changes, please let me know. Right now….” He shuffles some papers. “There is the housekeeper and her assistant, the gardener, the pool company, and the window washer.” He looks up. “The pool company and window washer come by once a week. The gardener, the housekeeper and her assistant are all full time employees.”

The dead pan stare you have for the man is completely slack, and it takes far longer than you’re proud of to shake off the embarrassment of staring at him like an imbecile. “You’re serious?” You ask in equal parts confusion and awe. “I was kidding.”

“I assure you, the help is needed.” He tells you seriously. “A house of this size could not possibly be managed by one person alone.”

“Right.” The best you can do is nod vaguely and try not to have a panic attack over the responsibility landing in your lap, and you look between the lawyer and his clerk again. “You said it’s…eight bedrooms?” That place must be a palace…

“That is…the main bedrooms.” Antonio admits. “That doesn’t include the old servants’ quarters, although they are not occupied now.”

“Fuuuuck…” Even mumbling under your breath is obvious, and the paper that is slid in front of you is a clearly labeled blueprint of the house. Four floors, distinctly marked 38,000 square feet, and with more doorways, closets, and stairwells than you can shake a stick at.

“I can understand that it is overwhelming, but the staff is prepared for your arrival.” You look panicked and he doesn’t think that’s a good thing. It’s almost as if you feel…guilty.

“Can I ask…?” Swallowing down the dear at how daunting all of this feels, you abandon your small breakfast and sit back in the uncomfortable padded chair you’re seated in. “Anything about Ms. Brown? What did she do? How did she pass?” Where did all her money come from? The fact is, you had never even heard of her, but she left you an entire life.

“Ms. Brown died at 91.” He’s a little surprised that you are curious, but you don’t seem to be the type of person that is overly greedy. “Complications of old age.”

“I see.” Jittery fingers curl the edge of one page and you bite your lip, trying to see if anything doesn’t fit. But it all seems to knit together properly, in a way that just accidentally benefits you in the craziest way possible. “And she was just…independently wealthy?” It seems unlikely considering your family has so little, but who knows? Anything is possible.

“Some of it was leftover from her wealthy soulmate.” He admits. “They never had children. Some of it was from investments. She was a smart lady.”

“She must have been.” It’s easy to just waste money, you’ve seen that firsthand too many times. “Well…I assume I need to sign things? Make the ownership…official?”

“Absolutely.” He cracks a small smile. “Sign your life away, is the saying.”

Raquel slides a stack of papers over towards you. “All the places for you to sigh are indicated with a tab.”

A dozen different signatures and initials go by like lightning and before you know it, Raquel is excusing herself with the stack of papers to make copies and file things away. “Is there…anything else?” You ask, tentative about what else there could even be.

“Nothing that I can think of.” Mr. Colette hums. “I had the housekeeper stock the pantry and kitchen with basic items.” He tells you.

“That was very kind of you.” Since you aren’t really sure what else to say, you take a determined look at the pile of keys in front of you and muster a smile. “Would you mind showing me the house? The drive was long and it would be nice to settle in.” The further you get from Derek and his reach, the better off you know you will be. Even if you had loved him as best as you could — it had never been enough. Maybe these next people won’t be too disappointed in you. Not the way he was, at least.

“Of course.” He would make sure that you are comfortable before he turns you loose on the house. Or perhaps abandoning you to it would be a more apt phrasing. “Whenever you wish to leave here. I’ve cleared my schedule for the morning.”

“There’s no time like the present, I guess? I can follow you in my car.” You have half a mind to ask if the other occupants will be there, but you can’t see how he would possibly know that so you put the question aside in your mind.

“Of course.” He can’t think of anything else that needs to be address. “We will file all of the paperwork with the probate court and you will be receiving new registration for the car and a title to the house in four to six weeks. Sometimes it does take a few months.” He warns.

“I can’t imagine I’ll need them with any kind of speed.” After all, you have no plans to do anything of importance. In fact, if you never do anything besides sit in your little corner of this town for the rest of your life and remain unnoticed by everyone, you’ll be happier for it.

“Well.” He hands off the papers to the assistant and stands. “Shall we?” He asks, motioning towards the door.

******

Even with the heavy traffic of downtown Newport, the drive from the Law Offices of Colette & Dupree over to Bellevue Avenue takes under ten minutes. You drive by a grocery store and a drug store on the way – both good things to know the location of – as well as numerous high end shops, restaurants, and cafes. There is a bustling town here and it looks like students, too. Young adults with stuffed-full backpacks wearing all manner of paraphernalia that reads Salve Regina University seem to dominate certain areas.

After what seems like dozens of affluent homes, Mr. Colette’s blinker turns on before one of many stone walls and turns left into a driveway. When you follow suit and drive through the front gate, you’re glad to be alone because the gasp you let out is audible. Chateau-sur-Mer rises up and peeks out from behind trees like a monument. More massive than you ever would have dreamed of, the stone-faced house points north with a beautiful, multifaceted landscape surrounding it in every direction. Three stories, with a beautiful back porch, and spires and a tower to boot, the house is offset by a gigantic weeping tree that you don’t recognize and an otherwise reasonably sized house in one corner of the property that seems utterly dwarfed by the mansion it otherwise guards. Caretaker, you remember after a second. There is a caretaker…and presumably that is where he lives? It’s just…you had already had trouble wrapping your head around it. But now that you see it? It’s just…beautiful.

The sleek Jaguar comes to a stop and Antonio steps out and turns towards the older, slightly perilous looking Volvo. He hopes that you will get rid of it, or replace it now that you have the means. He had watched it seemingly buck several times while stopped at traffic lights.

“This is it?” If your question sounds dubious, it isn’t meant to. Honestly you’re almost too flabbergasted to really wrap your head around everything. There are a few cars parked under a structure to the left of the house that you assume used to be stables, from the look of it. Now the small windows that show you inside give a peak at bumpers and break lights instead of manes and carriages. There are a half dozen cars inside that you assume must belong to the other occupants and the staff, with more empty spaces standing open before the gorgeous black and chrome sports car that you now hold the keys to. “I mean it’s…it’s so much room. I’m almost glad there’s other people who will be around a lot.”

“The property is safe.” He assures you. “There’s a surveillance system that you can access and a security system that nothing in the world can rival.” He chuckles at his own joke and motions towards the house. “Shall we go inside?”

“Sure.” Not that you understand why one little old lady would need such a hardcore security system, but you nod anyway and let the lawyer – your lawyer? – lead the way. The house looms, almost daring you to come inside, but you are faced with an ordinary carved wooden door when you actually get close.

"It was built in 1852. Or completed in that year." Mr. Colette tells you as he takes the large keyring from you to unlock the front door and hands the keys back to you with a small grin. "It was once considered a ‘cottage’." He scoffs. "Although I tend to think of something a little smaller as a cottage."

“This is about four cottages all stacked on top of each other.” Walking through the front door cloaks you in near-darkness immediately. When your eyes adjust you stumble up a half-dozen wide marble steps into a front hall that grows up and up and up into an atrium taller than any you’ve ever seen before. The staircase behind you looks like it belongs to the set of a BBC drama and the thick red velvet curtains hanging in the entryway feel more like an old proscenium theater than a house. But the warm carved wood everywhere and colorfully painted forest scenes on the walls are immediately cozy in their own right. “Oh wow…” Your eyes are wide as you look around. It’s…it’s stunning.”

“Any changes you want to make, you are perfectly able to.” The lawyer reminds you, although he couldn’t imagine wanting to change anything about this estate. The mixture of Victorian and Gilded age architecture is a perfect combination to make a gorgeous house.

“I really don’t think that will be necessary.” After all, people already live here. The last thing you want to do is intrude on other people’s lives. “So this is the Great Hall, I guess?” The floor plan that Raquel gave you at the lawyer’s office is going to end up being invaluable, you think, as you pull it out and inspect the drawing of the first floor.

“Yes.” While he’s happy you don’t want to change anything, your tone makes it sound like it would be rude to do so. “The kitchens have been completely remodeled, modern appliances, but they still kept the charm of the rest of the house.”

“And that’s…” You consult the floor plan when there isn’t an obvious appliance anywhere in sight. “In the basement?”

“It is on the lower level.” Guiding you into the house, he explains. “Heat caused by the kitchens was unwanted so after the kitchens being in a different building fell out of fashion, they decided to make sure the kitchen was in the basement to keep the rest of the house cooler during the summer months. There’s the elevator over here, if you wish to use that instead of taking the stairs?”

Mr. Colette motions to the left of the main stairwell, to a portion of the first floor with red and black patterned flooring, and down a hallway. Curious enough to be led around by the suggestion and also noting that the floor plan in your hands says Servants’ Hall for this portion of the house, you follow him tentatively and watch him open what appeared to be a regular closet door. Instead there is a metal grating behind it, which is also opened, and a carved dark wood elevator car stands waiting for you. The kind of thing that would absolutely get you killed in a horror movie, it’s surprisingly sturdy when you step into it and Colette closes the door and gate easily. He presses the ‘B’ button before you can even ask about stairs and the antique elevator jolts to life, headed downstairs.

“Don’t worry,” he sends you a reassuring smile. “The elevator is safe.” He listens to the clanking and feels the carriage start to slow down.

The basement of this house is not like any basement you’ve ever been in before. The enormously long hallway with red and black flooring identical to the hall upstairs seems to stretch and stretch, and there are more doors down here than you could ever fathom needing. But there are voices coming from a room just a few yards away and that is both comforting and nerve-wracking at once. Other people means you won’t be lonely, but it also means new needs, new demands, and potentially new people to disappoint.

“Mr. Colette?” A woman’s voice sounds, loud and clear with a thick Rhode Island accent, from the room and only half a second later a tall, slim woman with gray and silver peppered through her brown hair and glasses attached to a beaded chain appears in the hall. “We weren’t sure when to expect you,” she says with a thin smile. “And this must be the new owner.”

“Yes.” The lawyer who has spent many hours in this house smiles at the housekeeper and waves your forward. Introducing you by your first and last name. “This is Marjorie Taylor and Renee Green. They are the ones who keep the house sparkling and the linens fresh.” He explains. “Mrs. Taylor would also cook for you if you would like.”

“I insist on it,” Mrs. Taylor informs you, smiling in a sort of polite-but-curious way and she shakes your hand when you offer it. “It’s very nice to meet you, ma’am.” When you falter and repeat your first name, thinking that maybe she had forgotten it or something, she shakes her head and gives you that same amused, thin-lipped smile. “There are a couple of things we stay old fashioned about here,” she tells you. But leaves out that the contract she signed with the rather suave gentleman who hired her specified it. “I’m Mrs. Taylor. This is Renee. The caretaker is Mr. Taylor, and the gardener is Mr. Finchley. The whole staff live in the caretaker’s cottage on the grounds and we are always reachable except for our day off each week. The schedule is written out for you. I left it on the desk in the library along with the necessary phone numbers and other important information.

“You’re very thorough, Mrs. Taylor.” It comes out with a note of surprise and you drop your eyes to the floor, embarrassed. “I mean — thank you. It is very much appreciated.”

“It is my pleasure.” She assures you with a soft smile. “It will be good to have people in the home again.” The others that were here kept to themselves and were often not around.

“I’m just one person,” you assure her, as if to say that you won’t cause trouble or get in the way. Those were things that Derek accused you of far too often. Even if it is the job that these people have taken on — the job not cleaning and cooking and taking care — you would never want to be a burden or a strain on them. “And…I tend to be fairly low key.”

“Well, I hope that you will let us take care of you.” Mrs. Taylor hums. “We have been delighted to hear that you had been located and were coming. I am sure that we will find a way to rub along together.”

“I’m sure.” You say, trying to smile and be reassuring. These people seem to be expecting a boss, not a wallflower, and that isn’t what you are. “I’m very glad to have gotten the call.” That, at least, is true.

“Would you like breakfast after the tour?” She asks. “I can have a tray brought up to whatever room you choose, and Mr. Taylor would be happy to bring up any luggage and boxes you have.”

Renee nods. “I would be happy to help you unpack.” She offers.

“I don’t want to be any trouble.” You protest immediately, but both women give you such placid, polite smiles that you swallow your anxiety about butting into the house and replace it with fear of being rude. “I—I mean…thank you. That actually sounds very nice.”

“Our pleasure.” The elder woman assures you. “Perhaps later on, once you have settled in, we can go over your preferences.” She tilts her head. “For now, do you have any food allergies I should make note of?”

“None.” Just as soon as you shake your head though, something in your gut churns and the smell of Derek’s cheap beer somehow overtakes you out of nowhere. It’s like a sense memory you never needed, and you stammer inelegantly. “But I—I, um…I don’t drink. Alcohol, I mean.” You did before. A long time ago. But seeing what it did to the man you thought you were going to spend your life with has ruined it for you. Soulmate or not, you had really thought Derek was the one. But his one comes in a can.

“Yes ma’am.” If it sounds odd to her, she doesn’t make it visible, just nodding politely. “I will make sure you have a nice tray sent up, I know you will be tired from travel.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Taylor.” “I’ll show our new resident The call buttons after she chooses a bedroom, so you’ll know where to bring her tray.” Colette assures the housekeeper with a smile. “We’ll just head back upstairs.”

“Perfect.” She smiles at the lawyer. “Oh, Max and Eddie aren’t here right now, so if you show her their rooms, just go right in.”

You thank both women again and follow Mr. Colette back upstairs, where he motions to the left of the hallway where the elevator is hidden and you end up in a room that is wall-to-wall cabinets. There are beautiful serving pieces and sets of China in those cases, as well as stunning crystal and glassware. If you ever throw a Victorian themed dinner party, it looks like you’ll be all set for dishes.

“The preservation society on the island has been itching to get their hands on this estate.” Antonio muses as he slows down to let you take in the vastness of the collection. “Ms. Brown always enjoyed thumbing her nose at them.” He chuckles quietly. “I believe that you would have liked her. She was a firecracker.”

“She had great taste.” There is a set of China in the cases that you keep coming back to — the intricate gilding and beautifully painted flowers utterly mesmerizing you for a few moments. There seem to be three different full sets of China here and two full sets of glassware. Every different size dish or glass you can think of is here.

“Now it is yours to keep and use however you wish.” He reminds you as he moves towards the display of real silverware.

“I think it’s actually harder to wrap my head around that now that I’m in the house,” you admit, trying for a laugh and just sort of letting out a huffed breath instead. On the floor plan, the door to the left of you is marked Butler’s Pantry and that seems like someplace you shouldn’t go. To the right, though, the plan says Dining Room. “This way next?” You guess? The door looks innocuous enough — it’s just a dining room. It can’t be that crazy.

“Wherever you would like to go.” Antonio insists as he pushes open the swinging double doors silently. The large dining room table with the massive set of three chandeliers dominates the room.

The gasp from your lips has you pretty sure that you’re going to be saying “Wow” a hell of a lot in this house, and every room just makes the feeling grow. From the forest green walls of the dining room outfitted with ornate carvings in dark wood – to the silver painted walls of the ballroom with its six foot high mirrors and gilt relief work on every wall panel. A parlor room off one end of the ballroom is all decorated in green silk fabric – even the walls – with clean white accents. Beyond that is a hallway with a stained-glass ceiling and a white marble floor that is decked in red leather sofas and contains huge white marble statues and paintings on the walls that are nearly life sized. The library is the most ornate yet, with carvings on every single wooden surface, lush carpeting and sitting space, and even a hidden door built into one bookcase. “Where does that go?” You ask immediately, too tentative to open it yourself.

“This, I believe, goes to the morning room.” He tells you, cocking his head as he thinks. “It has been some time since I have completely gone through the house.” He admits.

“Is it okay to go through? I mean the house is old but it’s not so old that it’s unsafe, right?” The idea of a door in a book axe is too good for anyone to pass up, especially you.

“Absolutely.” Antonio pulls the leaver to open the door. “Ms. Brown and her soulmate would spend quite I bit of time in this room. I believe it was her favorite.”

The middle section of the bookcase pulls toward you smoothly, allowing you and Mr. Colette to pass into a large corner room with enormous picture windows on two sides and built in bookcases on every other wall. Like an extension of the library there are books everywhere, a red leather windows seat that matches the sofas in the marble hall, and even intricate wooden shutters that close over the windows in sections to regulate how much light is let in. One side of the room is dominated by a large fireplace with yet one more large mirror set in the wall above it, and there are small statues all along the mantle. A billiard table takes up most of the space in the middle of the room, but a table and chairs and a desk also fit neatly with plenty of room to move.

“This house goes on forever,” you observe with a laugh of disbelief.

“It is one of the larger cottages.” He agrees. “In fact, it was the largest house until the Vanderbilts built the Breakers.” He imparts that little fact with a smirk as he looks around the room. “But I’ve always been fond of this estate.”

“It’s beautiful.” Having seen it up close and personal, you can imagine that photos don’t do it justice. It must seem crowded or busy in pictures. But in person? It’s like the house is hugging you. After another minute looking around the morning room, you follow Colette back out to the entryway and head upstairs. There is fabric, not wallpaper, hanging on the walls around the master staircase and it is painted with a forest scene that seems reminiscent of folk tales. Like magic could be lurking behind any corner or a satyr just might come out from behind a bush. There is a tree painted on the underside of the enormous staircase, trunk and branches extending upward to sprout leaves and welcome birds, and it crawls all the way up the stairwell to extend out to the ceiling of the second-floor landing and atrium. Dozens of little painted songbirds light on branches everywhere to make you feel like you have climbed into the forest that is painted on the walls.

“Every room has its own theme.” He explains at the top of the stairwell looking down the hallway at the doors. “If you don’t mind. I will step away to make a call.”

"Of course." Far be it from you to stop him from attending to his business, and you follow along the railing in the hallway to make your way into a different hall. This one is just a rectangular room with the now familiar built-in cases along the walls, paintings and intricate light fixtures above the cases, and six doors to choose from. To open them one by one seems like a massive intrusion, but you can't figure out any other way to see what else is up here. The floor plan marks four bedrooms on this floor as well as a sitting room and a nursery, though you can't understand why there is a nursery if there were never any children living here. Maybe your great-aunt and her soulmate wanted children but just could never have them? That's a far sadder thought than you can muster at the moment.

Hoping that you're facing the right direction, you open the door on the opposite wall from where you are standing and – yes, you had it right – the sitting room is full of plush chairs and love seats with a petite fireplace that has a huge flatscreen television over it where you assume a mirror once stood. The fireplace has a small stand inside it that obviously prevents fires from ever being laid, but more importantly seems to be the storage rack for multiple video game systems. Whoever Max and Eddie are, these other occupants of the house seem to thoroughly enjoy video games.

To the right of that room is a beautifully laid bedroom with honey colored furniture and homey gray and white pinstripe wallpaper. A writing desk stands at the ready between a window trimmed in lace curtains and a white marble fireplace, and it feels like exactly the kind of room that you would love to be brought to if you were a guest in someone's house. As much as it is sweet, inviting, and unexpectedly friendly, it feels…spoken for somehow. It’s nothing you can describe fully, but it makes you think that you shouldn’t disturb the room. Like whoever had claimed it originally might still come back one day to curl up in that bed or sit down at that desk.

There are two more bedrooms – one with furniture made of a wood that is somehow remarkably the same shade as roasted butternut squash and the other with a luxurious, if slightly gothic, yellow velvet and dark walnut loveseat and red upholstered chairs in it that all beg to be read in – but both rooms very obviously are occupied. These must be the rooms that Max and Eddie claimed whenever it was that they arrived. The next door to the left of Max's room yields a large, airy bedroom decorated in all sorts of shades and textures of blue with dark wood furniture and soft pink silk and lace curtains over the windows. A painting of a smiling young woman hangs above the fireplace with two lamps in the shapes of cherubs holding the light source aloft. Two cream-colored chairs sit by a small table and two more blue velvet chairs flank another. You could have a whole party in this spick-and-span room without any effort whatsoever.

“This is the one, I see.” Antonio has returned. Lingering in the doorway as he watches you move from Knick knack to knick knack with an almost dreamy expression on your face. “Let me show you the call system.” He gives you an apologetic look. “I’m afraid that I am needed in court.”

A set of buttons by the door to what you very accidentally have apparently selected as your room will summon a member of the house's small staff, Mr. Colette tells you, and there is a similar button on a handle by your bed, almost like the call button for a nurse in the hospital. "Don't let me keep you," you murmur, waving off another apology from the man who has literally swept into your life and changed everything about it. The last thing you want is to stand in the way of anything he has to do. "I'll, um...I guess I'll unpack."

As if on a secret cue, the door to the elevator opens on the other side of the hall and an ornate rolling cart, much like the ones at the posh hotels, rolls out. Your trash bags are all neatly stacked with the few boxes and the one bag you had managed to take from your ex's house. The older, stately looking man pushing it does not judge, his sharp eyes looking for the room where the new owner has decided to take up residence so he can help in any way possible. Renee is behind him, a fully ladened tray on another rolling cart.

You can hear them rolling down the hallway before you see them, and Mr. Colette smiles in satisfaction. “I’ll leave you to it,” he says, looking toward the doorway as the source of the noise comes into view. “If you need anything, you have your staff here, and my number. Please don’t hesitate.”

“Right. Thank you, Mr. Colette.” As soon as you say his name he disappears from view, and you’re left face-to-face with the embarrassing sight of your trash bags in this gorgeous home.

“I took the liberty of moving your car into the carriage house.” Mr. Taylor tells you. In addition to being the caretaker, he also maintains all the vehicles here. Your car is in sore need of some TLC and he is already itching to get to it.

“That’s very kind of you. You really don’t have to go through any extra trouble.” The sight of garbage bags just feels wrong in a house this old and grand, and it just makes you feel like apologizing for that, too. “As you can see it…it really shouldn’t take me too long to get settled in.”

“It just means you can rest.” Renee offers with a smile as she rolls the tray over to the couches and table. “Here, ma’am?” She asks politely.

"Hopefully it won't take too long to find a new job." The offhanded and automatic thought doesn't even phase you, although you don't enjoy the fact that you'll have to explain why your last place let you go. At least you can assure them that it won't happen anymore – since Derek isn't in your life there won't be any erratic or unexpected phone calls to have to respond to immediately. "Thank you, Renee. It...it all looks wonderful." Laden with a steaming silver coffeepot and fresh pastries with butter, jam, and fruit, the delicate China on the tray looks like it has been laid for a queen.

“My pleasure, ma’am.” Mr. Taylor quietly excuses himself, and Renee turns towards the cart with an eagerness to begin. “Do you have some specific organization for your things?” She asks, hoping to know how you would like things. “Or shall I organize them for you?”

Even if you had specific organization, it would no longer apply to this house. The feeling that everything should be in a specific place and that rooms have specific functions is very different from how you were living before. "I'm sure you'll know just where things are supposed to go," you tell her, with a definite air of 'because I don't have any clue'.

“Yes ma’am.” She nods and immediately whirls around to start wheeling the cart into the dressing room just off to the side of the bathroom.

"Renee?" Following her just a few steps and sticking your head into the dressing room, you have to swallow yet another sigh over how beautiful this house is and how grand everything seems at first blush. You shake it away, though, when her head pops up expectantly. "I don't suppose I could ask any of you to call me by my name, could I? Mrs. Taylor seemed rather set on using a title..."

“It— it’s not done.” Renee admits with a bashful smile. “Although Mrs. Taylor did call Ms. Brown by her nickname at Ms. Brown’s insistence.”

"She had a nickname?" For some reason that intrigues you, even though she had an unusual name to begin with. You've never heard of a woman named Etienne before.

“Cookie.” Renee smiles fondly. “She went by Cookie for as long as she could remember.”

"That's very sweet." And actually makes you smile too, though you can't quite figure out why it warms you through the way it does.

“Do you have a nickname, ma’am?” She asks curiously. “I am sure that Mrs. Taylor would have no issue using a nickname for you.”

"I—" About to protest that you really don't, or at least that you can't think of one, a long-lost memory gets dredged up from the bottom of your mind that you haven't given any thought to in a long time. "I used to like being called Dolly. Quite a lot."

“Yes Ms. Dolly.” The nickname is no more unusual than ‘Cookie’ and the smile that thinking of your nickname is soft and real as it makes you light up.

"Thank you, Renee." It actually relaxes you measurably just to have a little bit less formality, and you offer the girl another genuine, if small, smile.

"My pleasure." She turns back to the bag that is opened and starts to carefully remove all of the clothes to sort and organize into piles before she can fold or hang them. "I should have all of this sorted in just an hour or so."

"Please don't feel like you need to rush. It isn't like I have anywhere to go." The fact that someone else is doing your laundry makes you more than a little embarrassed but you try to remember that it's literally her job. "But...again...thank you."

She doesn't bother to remind you that it's her job, just humming quietly as she continues to make note of what you have that needs pressing.

"Renee?" Even after you've walked away, you double back to look into the dressing room where she is sorting through the things you brought from Tennessee. "Was, this...um...was this Ms. Brown's room?"

"It was, Dolly." She stands up and moves towards the door. "Does that upset you?"

"I...don't really know," you admit after a moment of thinking about it. "I think it's more that...I don't want to disturb it? Like if she had a favourite chair, or painting, or lamp or something, then I wouldn't ever want to move it." Saying it out loud makes you sigh, and you huff a laugh at yourself. "That probably sounds silly."

Her own laugh is slightly ironic. "Please don't worry about that." She assures you. "Ms. Brown loved to rearrange her furniture based off of how she was feeling that week." She tells you. "It drove Mrs. Taylor up the wall, but she would almost insist on moving most of it herself. Even up until a few years ago."

"Wasn't she in her 90s?" You ask, surprised to hear anything so active about the old woman who had lived here.

"She was spry." Renee can sense that you are eager for information about the older lady that had lived in this house. "She did love to pull the chaise in front of the windows and read." She tells you. "Especially on rainy days where the storm raged outside. She would sit with a pot of tea or hot chocolate for hours."

"God, that sounds so relaxing." And in a house full of books, who could blame her? You can't even imagine actually having the time to read every book you saw in the house while you were walking around. " I might have to follow suit for a little while. Just...until I find a new job."

Renee frowns slightly and tilts her head. "A job?" She asks. "Are you someone who likes to keep busy?"

"I guess—" It hadn't occurred to you that you could just not have a job, and that makes you frown far deeper than Renee is at the moment. "I guess so? I didn't really think...I've just always had a job. I didn't really think I'd ever be able to not have one..."

"Perhaps you have something you enjoy doing?" She asks. "Forgive me for being so forward, but you have the means to do whatever you wish now, Dolly."

"I guess I haven't really given it a lot of thought." That makes you frown again, this one considerably more confused, and you shrug your shoulders. "I won't bother you anymore. Thank you, Renee." It's a heady thought to chew over while you eat your breakfast, but it's something that you're going to have to think about. What did you dream about when you used to dream of growing up? You can barely remember anymore.

She doesn't want to pry, so she nods again and turns back towards the dressing room again. It's obvious that you are kind of lost and her heart goes out to you. Hopefully being here will make the sadness in your eyes disappear.

______

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#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips x f!reader #Eddie BtVS #Bloodsucking Bastards #soulmate au #a mysterious inheritance

[the-hole-in-terzos-shoe]

Call Me, Little Sunshine

For my Best Ghestie @mustluvecho 's BIRTHDAY!!!!! Everyone wish her a happy birthday even though I'm posting this hella late in the day! ❤️🎉🎂🎈💝💋🥰

Demon!Papa x GN!Reader

It's a bit Copia coded for my bestie Echo, but could be read as any Papa. Let me know which one you prefer to read it as 😉

TW: abusive boyfriend (mostly verbal, cussing, but he does push Reader at one point, and slam a door), demon stuff, haunting, night terrors, scratches on Reader's body, scary imagery, some light SMUT, MDNI, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.9k

EDIT: I wanted to add my bestie's amazing artwork!!!! She really beautifully captured the vibe I was going for 🥰

Please like and reblog her artworks for this fic here and here!

At first it started small: rapping on the window, a creaky door, faucets emanating a strange sulfuric odor. Typical household problems, you shrugged it off... But now there were other things happening, unexplainable things. The smoky apparition that you'd see out of the corner of your eye, always just out of sight; the claw marks on your back and legs; and the ice cold breath you feel at the back of your neck have you convinced that something is out to get you.

Having just moved in with your boyfriend of only a year, you sit in the kitchen one night unpacking dishes so you wouldn't have to eat off paper plates like you had the last few weeks. Maybe settling into the house would make these crazy illusions go away.

𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺. That's what your boyfriend calls all the things you see and feel and hear. But you don't feel crazy, and it feels real when you lie frozen in horror, watching the dark figure with tall golden horns and one glowing white eye stare at you from the foot of your bed. Sometimes it even dares to reach for you, perhaps if only you make your pounding heart jump up to your ears.

You're not sure what this thing is or why it's chosen 𝘺𝘰𝘶 to taunt... or to haunt, you don't really know. But your nights often end with you falling asleep from sheer exhaustion from the terror you feel as this entity makes itself more and more known.

"Fuck, baby, you've gotta get some help. These hallucinations are getting to be a bit too much for you to take, huh?" He says as you sob into your pillow in the early hours of the morning. Little did he know, at least to you, it was no hallucination. That 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 had grabbed your foot, pulling you harshly from your slumber as you flailed and screamed to stay on the bed.

You're snapped out of your thoughts by a plate crashing to the floor at least a meter away from the table where it had been sitting. You jump up and shriek, half from shock, half in frustration.

"Dammit, babe, you can't be such a ditz! We payed a lot of money for you to go around being careless with the dishes," your boyfriend scolds you.

"At least I was trying to unpack," you argue, voice small.

"What was that?" The look on his face turns dark, as he approaches you again.

"I'm- I'm just trying to help," you squeak. Really you felt like it was the least you could do; you'd had a lot of trouble finding a job since moving out here, so you just try to help around the house as much as possible.

"Don't bother!" he shouts, shoving you back against the kitchen counter, "Especially if you're just gonna break shit!"

As you squeeze your eyes shut, cowering away from your boyfriend's outburst, you feel it: the now familiar ice cold breath right next to your ear. A sensation comes over you that almost feels like a hug, protective. Then, loudly, and without warning, all the cabinets in the kitchen burst open as a loud growl rips through the room!

You drop to your knees out of instinct, and the fear-filled tears start to flow. "What the fuck?! You crazy bitch!" your boyfriend cusses at you before storming out of the room. Of course he would blame it on you... A completely unexplainable event, and it's somehow your fault.

Unable to muster the concern to clean the kitchen, you just drag yourself up the stairs, heading to bed early for the night. At least you'll have a long time alone since you know your boyfriend will be up late into the night playing video games and yelling with his friends.

𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶?

Lying there in the darkness save for some moonlight spilling in from outside, you can't help the feeling of guilt that overcomes your mind. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘢𝘸𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦? 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘣? 𝘐 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘧𝘧, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵? 𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦... 𝘐𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴.

As you clutch your pillow to your chest, resting on your side in the fetal position, you fight back the tears once again. You can't wrap your head around all this--it seems like your whole world has been turned upside down and you hardly recognize the man you thought you were in love with.

Softly at first, you feel something touch you, like fingers sliding up your side. Automatically, you freeze, unable to fight off this entity that's been bothering you. Next, that hand slides down your thigh. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰���� 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥? It certainly feels like one, five fingertips caressing you almost... sensually?

Climbing back up your thigh, this apparition grips your hip as you hear a sigh just over your shoulder. Then, you feel lips at your ear as claws dig into the flesh of your backside, not hard enough to hurt, but just right. An involuntary whimper leaves you as you feel yourself giving into this demon. You have to be hallucinating, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥? It feels just like someone pressed up behind you as hands roam your body bringing you--dare you say it?--pleasure.

𝘍𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰

Your whole body feels so warm, you could be on fire, but a special kind of heat settles between your legs. Hearing a deep rumble of a moan, you turn your head as much as your muscles will allow, seemingly still frozen to the spot; out of the corner of your eye, you make out the tall golden horns as the figure presses soft kisses to your jaw.

Breathing deeply, he stops, moving to hover above you. In the dark room, you can't see much besides the glimmer of gold metal, the silhouette of his form, a skeletal face, and that glowing white eye. He stares into your eyes, as if asking for permission, and when you continue to stare back, his hand starts to snake down to give you attention where you need it most.

Grunting and grinding your hips up against his fingers, you call out for him, "Papa..." You're not even sure how you know what to call him.

Suddenly, he turns his head as the door creaks open, and in an instant, he's gone, fading away like a fog.

Waking with a gasp, you find you're still on your side cuddling your pillow.

"Hey, it's okay," your boyfriend cooes, "it's just me. Go back to sleep." He comes over and pets your hair as you get your bearings straight.

𝘐𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳...

Your boyfriend climbs in bed, throwing an arm over you and giving you a peck on the forehead, "Goodnight, babe."

𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴, you think, as he drifts off, and you try to ingore the throbbing at your core.

• • •

The next time this presence--Papa--makes itself known, is when you're entering your room. It's broad daylight outside and all you can make out is a faint gray mist as you're slammed back against the door, the wood rattling loudly in the frame. But before you can freeze up from fright, your eyes flutter closed and a soft sigh leaves your chest as you feel the distinct peppering of kisses across the pulse points of your neck. It's a harsh juxtaposition to the way your boyfriend pushes you around.

Without realizing it, your hands are pinned in place as a haze of lust washes over you, and were it not for the entity bringing you immense and sudden satisfaction, you'd probably be aware of how crazy you look pinned to the door by seemingly nothing.

For the first time, you reach out, allowing yourself a touch. Your fingers are met with a clothed torso. Your run your digits down the buttons on his shirt, stopping at the bottom when his breath hitches as you slip under to tease the skin.

𝘓𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺

𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘦?

Slowly opening your eyes, you're finally met with the sight of him. At first, you almost don't recognize him as the figure that's been haunting you every night for months. The striking black and white skull visage is unfamiliar to you, yet the horns and white eye, glowing even in the day time, give it away as him.

"Papa?" You properly meet his eyes for the first time; the left a ghastly pale, and the right a warm golden green. Softly, you brush your fingertips across his cheek, hardly able to believe he's real.

"Yes, my child?" He asks warmly, arms still embracing you.

Without another word, you lean up, pressing your lips softly to his. He returns the sentiment with a kiss so sweet, so seemingly full of emotion, you feel tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. As you sigh into the kiss, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips, cupping the back of your head to keep you in place. With him, you know if you wanted to pull away, he would let you--but you don't want to.

And you know you should feel guilty about your boyfriend in the next room, but you don't. He had proven time and time again that 𝘩𝘦 was the real horror in this house. So much so that he'd driven you into the arms of a demon.

You feel safer with some creature from hell than you do with your own boyfriend.

As if (ironically) summoned, here he comes, banging on the door to bitch about something else. "Babe! What are you doing in there? What all that moan-"

*SLAM!*

When he pushed the door open, a sharp burst of wind closes it again. Papa simply chuckles and looks down at you; it must've been him that closed the entryway.

Before you can ask, the door flies open again, doorknob slamming into the wall, "What the fuck was that?!" The man screams, locking eyes with you and then with the eccentric looking individual on your arm, "And 𝘸𝘩𝘰 the fuck is 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵?!?!"

𝘌𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘺

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺

"Call me Mephistopheles. Or your worst nightmare, whichever you can actually pronounce," Papa speaks up. "Now, get away from her, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥, or I 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 make you regret it."

"Oh yeah? What's some loser in a cheap Halloween costume gonna do, huh?" your boyfriend retorts.

Rather than waste another breath on this loser, the demon transforms into, well... a demon: hoofed feet, black claws, fiery eyes, and all. What sounds like a choir of screeching tortured souls rings out, causing you to grimace and clap your hands over your ears.

After what feels like forever but was surely only seconds, the sound ceases, and when you open your eyes, your boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

"Is-is he gone?" Your voice cracks, as your body folds against Papa's chest.

He catches you in another embrace, this time dark ashen black leathery wings cocooning around the two of you. "You won't ever have to worry about him again, amore."

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦.

#tw #tw abuse #abusiveboyfriend #tw yelling #tw cussing #tw violence #the band ghost #ghost band #copia #papa emeritus iv #papa iv #papa emeritus iii #papa iii #terzo #shitghosting #secondo #primo #papa ii #papa i #papa 3 #ghost fandom #ghost fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #drabble #oneshot #horror #happy birthday #MDNI #18+ only

[mrs-snape5984]

“I will follow you into the dark…”

“If there′s no one beside you, when your soul embarks, then I’ll follow you into the dark. (…) The time for sleep is now. But it′s nothing to cry about, ‘cause we′ll hold each other soon in the blackest of rooms.” (“I will follow you into the dark” by Death Cab for Cutie)

Trigger warning: My thoughts of despair can be quite dark. If anyone has difficulties with reading these things, please skip the next five paragraphs.

I’m struggling with ME/CFS for 1,5 years now and my life, as I knew it before, has changed drastically. Damn, I’ve lost so much…so much I’ve taken for granted, although my life wasn’t easy before this disease, either.

The small things in life, which have always felt so naturally, are gone for me. Driving my car, being active with my three children, going to work, taking care of my household, meeting my friends and family, making a phone call, taking care of myself, watching TV, listening to loud music, reading more than just a few pages of a book, drinking a glass of wine, leaving the house or even my dark room in general….everything was just taken from me by this fucking bitch of a disease, called ME/CFS!

I feel so stupid for having regarded these things as a matter of course….and I would rather relinquish the things I’ve gotten instead: The pains, the fevers, the lack of orientation when I’m leaving my darkness, the fatigue, the brain fog, the disability of comprehending things, the hypersensitivity to dealing with noises and lights, the lack of understanding from others…the list seems to be endless.

Every little thing too much results in another “crash” of my disease…and it’s getting worse every time. I’ve lost some friends over this period of time, my children have lost their active and funny mother and on some days, I’m trying to fight the thought away, that I’ve lost the sense of purpose in my life.

It’s only going downhill from here…further down into the darkness, which is now the only stability in my life. I’ve lost the grip on myself…the understanding of who I really am. What is left of myself?

Sure, I still haven’t lost my sense of sarcasm and my rather dark humour. I’m also sure, that I’m still an empathetic person, who’s interested in other’s thoughts and feelings. And maybe that’s exactly, what I should rely on. These are parts of my personality, which this goddamn disease ME/CFS hasn’t stolen from me.

The other thing, no one, not even ME/CFS, could ever take from me, is my love for Severus Snape. Since 21 years, I’m clinging to him, letting him comfort me and console my troubled heart and soul. He’s the one, who’s following me into the dark…being my unwavering companion in these rough times.

When I commissioned @madfantasy for this stunning piece of art, we’ve talked a lot about the meaning behind it. Mani, my dear friend, I’m beyond grateful for your understanding of the feelings, which I wanted to express with this artwork. I’ve never met anyone else in my entire existence, who had the ability to grasp every nuance of my emotions, transforming them into something so powerful…so creative…so beautiful!! You are such a gem of a soul and my heart swells with joy for being counted as your friend. I’m sending you my love! 🖤🖤🖤

🖤 Severus & Julia 🖤

#Severus x Julia #severus x oc #i love severus #fuck me/cfs #commissioning artwork is my goddamn coping mechanism #Mani you did it again #he’s my safe place #he’s my comfort blanket #he’s my guiding light #he’s my everything #mani is wonderful #severus snape #i love snape #snape love #snape #pro severus snape #snape content #snart #severus snape fan art #severus fanart #severus snape art #snape art #mecfs #writing is my coping mechanism #disability #grieving

[eddies-whoreee]

Thots on Kinks

Inspired by @indulgentlyinclined her series is amazing plz go check it out!!

These are going to be my own personal takes on different kinks! I only write for Steve and Eddie. Maybe I’ll throw in Billy sometimes.

Humiliation

Eddie

He makes fun of how wet you get with little touches. How needy you are. He loves seeing you cry and whine, telling him to stop being mean. But he knows you love it maybe even more than him, if that was possible. He loved the way your cheeks heated up with utter embarrassment.

“You’re wet already? I barely touched you” he teases as his hands dip in your panties, his fingers coated with your slick. “Baby, didn’t know you were this easy.” He latched onto you neck making you moan his name. “Fuck your soaking my hand, such a needy slut” he mumbles in your ear as he slides two fingers in your entrance making you cry out. “Yeah? Just a slut who needs to be filled up?” He asks pumping his finger in you at a fast pace making your eyes roll in the back of your head. “Listen to that baby, hear how much you need me?” He coos. As the sound of him fucking your wet pussy fills the room. Loud as ever. You nod feeling embarrassed but it only edged you closer to your orgasm.

Steve

Steve likes to get you fucked out then make you ride him. Knowing your weak and can barely even move. Thighs shaking with pure pleasure as you struggle to ride him. “Is this all you can do? Really?” He asks completely monotone. Tears were already pouring down your face, “c’mon go faster” he says landing a slap on your ass making you jump. “Fucking hell, do I have to do everything around here” he says faux anger lacing his voice as he starts fucking into you at a harsh and fast pace.

You were trying you really were but you were to weak from your two previous orgasms. “Can’t do anything right, just a worthless whore” he states as you cry out his name, your third orgasm crashing over you. “ that’s all your used for, just fucktoy” he coos as he shoots his hot load into your pussy. Whining at the feeling of being filled up.

Billy

He likes to humiliate you in front of people. One time you were drunk and you had gotten too loud with him and he held his hand over your mouth, in front of all his friends. “Stop acting like I won’t spank you right here in front of them” he tells you. “Now I’m going to take my hand off, apologize to everyone for causing a scene” he demands, you nod your head slowly. He removes his hands from your mouth. “Sorry for causing a scene guys” you tell them with a sigh. Cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Or one time you were being a brat at one of his friend’s house party, it was a small party just the basketball team and some of their girlfriends. He dragged you to the nearest bathroom which was right next to the living room where the party was set in. He wasted no time in bending you over the sink, pushing you dress up and taking off his belt to spank you. By the time he was done you were a screaming crying mess. Your make up was ruined, mascara running down your face. Your ass burned and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was bleeding. He grabs you by the hair from behind lifting your head up so your looking at yourself in the mirror. “Don’t you even think about fixing up your makeup, I want them to see what happens when you act like a bitch” he smiles giving you ass on last slap with his hand making you whimper.

And when you did return, one of his friends made a joke, “aww did you get spanked for talking back, poor baby” he laughs with a fake pout. You cheeks were red, and you spent the rest of the night sitting on your sensitive ass and in Billy’s arms. Safe to say you didn’t talk back in front of his friends again.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #stranger things #eddie munson fics #eddie x reader #darker smut fics #smutty thots #steve harrington stranger things #steve x reader #steve harrington x fem #eddie stranger things #humiliating kink #humiliation kink #billy hargrove #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove stranger things

[queers-gambit]

Do As You're Told

prompt: ( requested ) Billy's less than impressed when his lady decides to disobey his warnings and cuts loose at a party. he might have to teach her a lesson about doing as you're told.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 4.1k [she's a shorty]

note: Billy’s a little OC in this cause I’m a sucker for the whole “dickhead to everyone except my boo” thing. so Billy’s in love with a strong woman but he might push her buttons a little extra at this party…

warnings: author's insecurity to write smut so...my bad for the ending... cursing, degrading name calling, underage drinking, teens being dumb, boys being dumb, um, suggestive language? as always, proceed with maturity!!

The music was so loud, it vibrated the ground walked or stumbled upon. The house was stuffed full of teenagers all looking to say 'fuck school' and 'hello summer', making it swelteringly hot and for refuge to be taken on the back patio where only a few stragglers were mingling.

Yeah, some nobody was trying to break Billy's keg stand record and started puking around second 13. Though not my usual crowd, it proved semi-entertaining as teenager after teenager drowned their worries and sorrows and increasingly made fools of themselves.

"There you are!" Chrissy giggled as she stumbled out of the backdoor, finding me there, fist clenched and perched under my temple as I leaned my elbow on the arm of the chair. "Wow, someone looks like she's having a great time, huh?"

I sighed when Chrissy crashed drunkenly into the seat beside me, a girlish giggle escaping her once again when my hands jutted out to make sure she actually landed in the chair.

"Think you've had enough to drink, babe," I chuckled lowly, eyeing her cautiously.

"Mh, I don't think you've had enough," she countered. "C'mon, what good is an end of the year party if you're not gonna drink?"

I rolled my eyes, "You obviously don't know my boyfriend."

A sort of shadow crossed Chrissy's face, her expression souring, "I don't need to know him to know he's a dickhead."

"Easy, girl," I warned half-heartedly; even though I knew he was, I didn't like hearing other people talk shit about him. They would never know Billy the way I did but right now, that was fine - if they thought he was a dick, I wasn't gonna bend over backwards to defend him. My eyes returned to the front of me, surveying the party crowd.

Billy had actually ditched me when a few of the 'basketball bros' dictated more of his attention. It wasn't the first time, either, and I get he was a star player and all, but seriously? C'mon!

"Seriously, what's up?" Chrissy asked, her voice softer than a moment ago. "You've been out here all night, looking like someone kicked your puppy."

"I'm honestly just tired," I shrugged. "Billy wanted to come tonight, I didn't. Just kinda wanted to hang at home tonight, Mr. Wilson's final really kicked my ass."

"So, why'd you show up tonight?"

"And what?" I scoffed. "Let all the bitches of Hawkins think my man's single so when he's shitfaced, they can make a move on him? Not likely," I shook my head.

"Well, how much fun can it be, sitting alone, outside, sober, while your man's in there," she pointed towards Tina's house, "having the time of his freaking life?"

I sighed, "It's not fun at all, Chris, but whatever. I'd rather be here than at home, wondering what the fuck he's doing."

"I knew it," she grinned. "So, does that mean you'll let me get you a shot or two?"

"No," I blanched with a shudder, "not since two weekends ago... I don't think I can even smell vodka without feeling sick."

"Well, lucky for you," Chrissy grinned, holding up a plastic water bottle, "I snagged us some tequila."

"Oh, really?" I smirked, pinning her with an amused look - knowing tequila was my weakness.

"Mhm, thought you could use some loosening up, so, I snuck it from Mom's liquor cabinet! C'mon," she pouted, "school's out for the summer - just let loose a little."

I sighed, "I don't know, Billy was pretty adamant I stay sober."

She scoffed, "Why? So, he can have all the fun?"

I shrugged, "I don't pretend to understand the way my boyfriend thinks."

"So?" Chrissy smiled, handing over the water bottle. "C'mon," she pouted when I paused to think.

"All right," I sighed, "screw it, right? Summer's here."

"Exactly," Chrissy beamed, watching as I poured a (healthy) shot into my mouth before swallowing. "You know, it's actually kinda intimidating how you just take that back with no chaser, no lime..."

I shrugged, "We don't drink for the taste, babe."

"Wanna dance?" She beamed.

"Uh, in a second," I nodded, taking a second shot and feeling the liquid warm my stomach before it extended into my veins. "Can we go to the kitchen so I can make a drink?" I held up the half-gone water bottle of tequila.

"Hell yeah," she squeaked with a grin, letting me pull her up with me and link our arms.

"Is Jason around?" I asked.

"Yeah, somewhere," she shrugged. "I wanted to hang with my bestie tonight."

I chuckled, leaning over to peck her cheek, "My rescuer."

"Your hero," she teased, giggling when she locked her hand in mine when we entered the stifling house.

Hordes of teenagers were huddled everywhere.

"Move," I snapped to a few people, unamused by their sloppiness due to my relative sobriety. Knowing I was the designated 'queen' of Hawkins, people parted ways to let Chrissy Cunningham and I pass through them. However, when a few girls didn't get the memo, I was glaring, "You thick in the head or something? Fuck outta my way."

They parted like Moses did the Red Sea.

"Ooooookay we're definitely getting you a drink," Chrissy shook her head, hands on my shoulders now to direct me into the kitchen. "You get kinda mean when you're irritated and sober. Real bitchy."

"I get annoyed when bitches don't listen," I shook my head, grabbing a solo cup and opening Tina's fridge. I scanned the contents before grabbing the orange juice and pouring half a cup, topping it off with tequila and giving a couple stirs before taking a sip.

"You're just mad at your boyfriend. Better?" Chrissy smiled.

"Much," I sighed, holding a finger to her to chug the rest of my drink. I ignored the way her eyes widened and her hands fiddled nervously, lowering my cup to refill it and nod at her. "All right, I'm good."

"Yeah? Feeling loose?"

"Sure," I shrugged with a softer smile; truly feeling my annoyance with everyone at the party dimming to a simmer.

"Loose enough to dance with me now?" She pouted dramatically.

"Yeah, let's hit it, babes," I chuckled, taking another mouthful before lacing our hands together and venturing towards the dance floor. Well, 'dance floor' was hard to call it since it was the darker part of Tina's house that was used for classmates to grind on each other.

Chrissy and I made for the middle, easily creating space around us as she giggled and took my hand before losing herself in the music. It required about half of my second cup before I felt like dancing too, and Chrissy was more than happy to cheer in encouragement.

It felt like the longer the minutes ticked on, the more I drank. It was easy to lose myself in a night of teenage debauchery, feeling Chrissy's hands on my hips as we swayed to the music. She giggled when I ground back on her, swinging my hips side to side, unaware of the eyes glaring daggers into our backs.

Chrissy tapped my shoulder and I turned, leaning in to hear her over the blaring music, "I'm gonna get another drink!"

I nodded, "Grab me one, please - I'm gonna hit the bathroom."

She nodded in agreement and we made a promise to meet up again before parting ways. I had left my empty solo cup on a random end table, stumbling over other feet to push my way towards the hallway.

Only, Tommy H. was standing there, talking to Patrick and Joshua. I rolled my eyes subtly, knowing all three of these boys pined uselessly after me since puberty did a real number on me in the eighth grade. I had a bit of a reputation, being the 'queen' made me a high priority dating target and I was adamant on not dating any of the shit-for-brains dumbasses that populated this town. And so I didn't date. I wasn't interested.

Until Billy fucking Hargrove zoomed into town with his Camaro, bad attitude, and ringlets of golden tresses.

Bastard, I thought to myself.

"OOohhh," Tommy called when he caught sight of me, "lookie here, boys! You lost or somethin', princess?"

"How can I be lost when I obviously have a destination in mind, Tommy?" I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Why else would I ever come around you guys willingly, if not to get around you?"

"Oh, kitty has claws," Patrick leered with a knowing smirk.

I rolled my eyes, "You guys gonna stand in my way all night, or what?"

"At least she's still a bitch," Josh laughed at Tommy. "Some things don't change, do they?" he pinned me with a look. "I can see Billy winds you real tight, huh? You tellin' me that guys not hittin' it right?"

I scoffed before cooing teasingly, "Awe, someone's jealous they don't get no type of pussy. And jealous I rejected you time and again, hm?"

Tommy laughed, "I can see your man isn't fucking you right if you're still such a stuck up bitch."

"Oh, look, surprise surprise, someone's a little mad they've been fucking the same pussy since, what? 7th grade?" I laughed at his expression, pushing past them. "Settle down, boys, you're making a fool of yourselves."

What I didn't realize was Billy watching the entire exchange, downing the rest of his beer when I walked away. I suppose when I pushed past Tommy and Patrick, he mistook the hand I used to push Patrick's shoulder for a flirtatious move.

After I left the bathroom, I noticed the boys gone from the mouth of the hall and moved for the overcrowded living room again. But before I could step out into the sea of bobbing and weaving kids, someone grabbed my upper arm and yanked me to the side.

The force was enough for my feet to trip over each other, "Holy shit! Hey, jackass - " I trailed off, seeing Billy as I caught myself on his abdomen before straightening. "Billy? What the hell, baby? You wanted my attention, just say it for fuck's sake."

"Oh, if I want your attention, I just gotta ask?" Billy sneered, his eyes rimmed with a red haze alcohol produced. "Did Tommy ask you nicely? That why you were standing there, eye fucking him and his boys, hmm? Tryna disrespect me or some shit?"

A few eyes turned to look at us dude to Billy's volume, but I ignored them and scoffed with a glare to Billy, "You're fucking ridiculous - are you being serious right now?"

"You just say the word, doll, and I'll leave you to your new man, hmm? Or is it your new men? Gonna take 'em all home?"

I rolled my eyes, "You're ridiculous - "

"What's fucking ridiculous is my girlfriend standing feet away from me, flirting with anyone who pays her an ounce of attention."

"Are you - "

"Everyone warned me you were some prude," he sneered, "the way you rejected everyone until I came along, but I'm guessing you're actually just a whore, huh? Desperate for any kind of attention."

I didn't think, and the tequila in my system spurred my actions as my hand just pulled back and flattened across Billy's cheek. The crowd around us 'oooh-ed' in shock as I snarled, "You ever think about muttering those words to me again, it'll be the last time you speak to me. Fucking asshole."

Feeling overwhelmed and pretty humiliated, I turned on my heel and pushed past the gaggle of gawking teenagers and after ignoring the way Chrissy called my name in confusion, ripped open the front door to jog through it.

I practically flew down the driveway.

I felt a few tears swell in my eyes, desperate to get out from under everyone's judgmental eyes after providing them with the start of the summer season gossip. From behind me, Billy charged out of the front door and called my name over and over, but I was in no mood to deal with him. With a hand wiping at my cheeks, I turned down the driveway and started down the darkened road.

"Go away from me, Billy!" I snapped.

"Baby," he groaned, "just c'mere!"

"Fuck off!"

"Don't walk away from me! Let's just talk!"

"Go away, William! Just leave me alone!"

"Get over here! Now! C'mon! Don't be so fucking dramatic!"

"Dramatic!?" I repeated, turning to glare at him; hair fanning around me like the skirt of a dress before falling flat around my shoulders. "You're saying I'm dramatic for wanting to get the fuck away from you because you so effortlessly insulted me in front of everyone? Jesus Christ, Billy! Just do me a favor, and fuck off!"

Billy took a few powerful strides to meet me, his hand grabbing my wrist as I struggled. "I'm not gonna hurt you, baby," he rushed, my hands balled up and pounding into his chest, "hey, hey, it's okay, just let me explain, it's okay - "

"No, it's not!" I snapped. "You're such an asshole and I can't stand you when you're like this - you get the smallest emotion you don't know what to do with and just fly off the fucking handle! I'm not dealing with your bullshit anymore, Billy, let go!"

"Baby - "

"No, you wanna call me a whore?" I ripped my hands away from him to glare into the eyes I'll stare into for a lifetime, "Fine! Fine, fucking call me a whore, but then never speak to me again!"

Billy sighed, catching my elbows in his hands, "You been drinking?"

I scoffed, "That's your concern? Get the fuck off me."

Billy shook his head, "I can smell it on you, how much did you - "

"That's all you, jackass. You've been drinking all night with your cronies - "

"Hey," he snapped, tugging me into his chest tighter. "You're not thinking straight, darlin' - "

"I'm thinking perfectly fine, you're the one causing issues," I wrangled myself a step away.

"Just," he sighed, running his other hand through his hair, "get in the car, baby, please, and let me take you home."

"Wouldn't want you to be seen with a whore like me," I snarled, trying to wrangle myself free.

"Baby, I didn't mean it - "

"Oh, fuck off!" I couldn't help the crack in my voice when his hands dropped in earnest shock. I next to never cried, even when Billy and I were fighting after being programmed into the rock solid eldest child my parents ensured I turned out to be. "You can't say shit you don't mean and then try to double back! If you're gonna say something, say it with your fucking chest!"

Billy sighed, nodding, "Your'e right."

"W-What?"

"You're right," he sighed again. "I can't say shit and try to backtrack. I didn't mean it, princess, I just got jealous."

"Of what?" I sobbed. "I'm dating you! And since you're so concerned with rumors, why not pay attention to the rumor that I've never dated anyone in this town?"

"Wait," Billy paused. "Hang on, you're serious?"

I scoffed, turning to walk away, "You're so fucking stupid."

"Baby," he frowned, catching my arm again and instead of pulling me, he moved in front of me, "hang on, no, wait. Hang on. Look, you're right - "

"If you want to pay attention to shit, pay attention to how I don't want anyone in this fucking town. I never wanted shit to do with their stupidity and the way they treated me but then you came in." Billy's face softened a little as I couldn't stop the tears down my cheeks, "You came into town, and into my life, and you fucked everything up, okay? You ruined my life because it's only you for me. Fucking bitch."

"Sweetheart, listen," he sighed, "I was way out of line calling you a whore. I'm so sorry - "

"Don't be sorry, just do better," my lungs rattled a bit from the heavy emotion. "I don't understand life after you, you totally wrecked everyone for me, and I don't know how to honestly be without you. You've just - I don't know, you mean everything to me, and hearing you call me a whore in front of everyone just fucking cut too deep. You have to do better, please."

"I will," he swore, "I will, princess, I'm sorry. I just..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair again out of stress as his eyes looked to the side of my head, "I got insecure, okay?" His eyes dropped in shame.

"Insecure about what?"

"About you not wanting to be with me anymore," he muttered. "You've known Tommy, Josh, Patrick, Jason, all those guys your whole life. I just started to think you'll want them, instead of me, who..."

"Who, what, B?" I frowned, feet shifting to keep them from going numb.

"Who knew you, who knew your life, this town... Who could be here for you better than I can."

My brows furrowed, "If I wanted to date any of those dumbasses, I would have. But I didn't want them, I only ever wanted you. But I don't want you if you're going to insult me, belittle me, and degrade me for fuck's sake. I don't deserve that - "

"No, you're right," his hand rose to caress my cheek, the sounds of Tina's party thumping in the background as the lights from her house illuminated us. "You're right, baby, you don't deserve to be treated like that. I'm sorry, okay? I promised I'd treat you like the princess you are, and I'm sorry for not doing that."

I shook my head, looking away from his pleading blue eyes, "Doesn't do me much good now."

"I know," he nodded, "but I really am sorry, okay? I got insecure and for that I can't apologize enough, baby. Sometimes it feels like you can do better than me."

"Before tonight, nobody's ever treated me better," I whispered. "You take care of me and protect me, but I don't think you trust me."

"Of course I trust you," he rushed, head shaking in disbelief, "I just don't trust anyone else with you, I start to think their history with you will overshadow what we're trying to build."

"Billy, if you can't trust me to tell off a few drunken boys who are working on my last nerve, then you don't trust me."

He frowned, shaking his head, "That's not it - "

"Then, why are we together?"

"Because I love you, princess, you hear me? Okay? You make me a better person," he sighed. "But it worries me when you're drinking and... And you're away from me. I can't protect you - "

"I don't always need protection!" I snapped. "I'm capable of taking care of myself! And I can drink if I want to - "

"Baby, the way I don't trust none of these guys?" he stressed, eyes wide. "It triples when you're drinking because I just - I worry, okay? I'm afraid someone's going to take advantage of you!"

I shook my head, "B, the moment someone crosses any line, I'm coming to you. You protect me, you always have, so, if someone even opens their mouth and I can't handle it for whatever reason, I know for a fact you will. And maybe if you didn't ditch me, you wouldn't have to worry so much."

"You're right I shouldn't leave you like that, but of course you know I would help you - I promise," he swore.

"Then can you try a new approach?" I sniffled, wiping tears from my cheeks. "Like, seriously, baby, I can't handle this if you're going to treat me like you treat everyone else."

"No, baby," he sighed, tugging me in closer so I was cradled to his chest, "I'm so sorry, you're right. I'll just... I'll do better. Okay? I'll do better, and I'm so sorry for calling you a whore. You're not, you're the furthest from it - I just get scared and I lash out."

"Well, stop lashing out at me," I mumbled into his chest.

"I promise, I hear you," he shook his head. "You gonna let me drive you home?"

"How much have you had to drink?"

He chuckled, "Enough, but I sobered all the way up just now. Hate seeing you walk away from me."

I sighed, "I hate walking away from you but I hate when you lash out at me more."

"I'm working on it, baby," he whispered, leaning in to peck my forehead. "C'mon, we can get home and watch a movie, hmm? Like you wanted to earlier, right?" He smiled down at me.

My eyes rolled, "Maybe. My place or yours?"

"Yours, Neil told me don't bother comin' home if it's after 11," Billy shrugged, glancing at his watch before throwing his arm around my shoulders. He directed us towards his car while fishing his keys out of his pocket, "Your parents gonna be mad?"

"If they wake up, yes," I chuckled, hanging off his waist so I was huddled under his arm for warmth.

"We'll be real quiet," he muttered, unlocking the passenger door to open it, "but no promises you'll be able to keep that pretty little mouth shut when I'm making everything up to you tonight."

I smirked, the way his mood changes giving me something akin to whiplash but knowing he was just trying to move on from the tense moment earlier. "Maybe you could put something in my mouth to help me stay silent, hmm?"

Billy grinned, "I have a few ideas, yeah. C'mon, princess," he sighed, offering me his hand to hold so I could drop into my seat in his Camaro.

I waited as he jogged around the front of the car, and when he got in, Billy sighed and looked over at me while turning the key in the ignition. "You know," I trailed my hand over his thigh, "you might've been onto something."

"What d'you mean, baby?" He reached to turn the radio off, listening to my words clearly.

I smirked, "Maybe with you, I can be a bit of a whore."

Billy's jaw flexed, eyes flickering between my eyes and lips, "Yeah?"

"Mhm," I leaned over the center console. "But only with you. Right, baby?"

"Damn straight," he breathed, leaning in to press a sweltering hot kiss to my lips. I whined shrilly when his tongue almost instantly swept into my mouth and his teeth trapped my bottom lip, one of his hands snaking around to hold the back of my head in order to control the tempo of the kiss.

"Billy," I chuckled when he pulled away to press kisses across my cheek, around my jaw, and latch onto my ear lobe - causing an involuntary flinch of my shoulder and moan. "Fuck, Billy," I praised, letting my hand ghost over his denim-clad crotch, hearing him hiss in my ear.

He groaned as I wiggled my hand across his waistband; his hips rising just slightly to straighten out and allow me to rake my fingernails through his pubic hair.

"Keep playin', sweetheart," Billy muttered in my ear, "and I'll take you in the back seat right fuckin' now."

"Why move that far?" I smirked, pulling the hand that wasn't keeping me balanced up to his abdomen and drawing my nails over skin; forcing a small shiver.

"Hey, hey," he pulled back, hand fisting gently in my hair to tile my head back and still my hand, "I'm not kiddin', pretty girl, you're playin' a dangerous game."

"What if I want to?"

"Thought you were mad at me?"

"Doesn't mean I don't want to fuck you. And my parents are home, so, you can eat me out quietly later if you really want."

He chuckled, eyes flickering down to my lips as he bit his own, "With all them people in that house? Where any of them can walk by and see what a mess I make of you?"

"You're the one who called me a whore in front of them, maybe you can show 'em how you fuck me like one, too."

Billy sighed for a second, "Never livin' that down, am I?"

"Not yet, sweets," I let my hand move back to cup his crotch rather forcefully. He took a sharp inhale, eyes glaring back at me as I smirked, "Wanna fight about it some more or work it out other ways?"

"Get in the back seat right fucking now, and for the rest of the night, princess," his hand reached to latch around my neck and earn my gaze, "you're actually gonna do as you're told."

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove one shot #stranger things #stranger things x reader #requests open

[conitagray]

"i’m still into you, morales."

pairing: miles morales !1610 x reader

genre: angst to fluff:)

inspo song: still into you. - paramore

warnings: cursing, blood, near death experience for reader, angry miles:(, green goblin being a creepy ass bitch, weapons.

words: 1.2k.

summary: the only way he can keep you safe is by breaking up with you for your safety, but months later you run into him and fortunately, you’re still into him.

a/n- ill be taking a small break after writing this due to my mental health literally crashing but i promise yall once im back ill post something😭 this is a small fic bc im currently focusing on other stuff at the moment AND i wanna thank @smokeywhalee for giving me the idea on the last part love ya mwahh❤❤

can't count the years on one hand that we've been, together.

miles and you have been best friends since you were small— quite frankly your whole childhood. miles was always right by your side through thick and thin, and you did too.

but when our fingers interlock, can’t deny, can’t deny you’re worth it.

and that’s when you started dating miles, you realized he fell in love with you the moment he saw you and his love grew fonder and fonder as he grew older.

you recount the night that you first, told his mother, and on the drive back to your house, he told you for the first time he loved you.

and you felt the weight of the world fall off your shoulders, and you sing along to the start of forever—

but that ended soon.

ever since miles became spiderman, his life started to become more dangerous — and you were worried sick.

everyday he would climb to your apartment, wounded and injured and you’d always patch him up, and he would always leave you worried.

so that’s when he decided to leave you for his own safety— and yours.

when he broke the news to you, it’s like your whole world stopped— you were frozen and so was time, but it was for your own good and his.

“i’m so so sorry mi corazon, it’s for your own good, i promise. please don’t cry anymore.” he whined, cupping your jawline as he wiped your tears.

you could see his glistening eyes, his tears waiting to fall as if they were impatient, you felt your heart shatter even more every minute you looked into his eyes.

you grabbed the said hand that was on your jaw, holding it tightly and savoring the last moment you both were witnessing.

he gave you one final goodbye kiss and in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

you couldn’t do anything now that your love of your life was gone, you couldn’t believe it that your last moment with miles is with him leaving.

———

hours of sleepless nights, days of overthinking and sadness burying you, and weeks of crying passed since miles left you and you couldn't even tell time anymore, you were still into him but what could you do now?

it was not until everything went downhill for you.

the green goblin has been miles's archnemesis for god knows how long ever since he became spiderman— and the green goblin was determined to find you, the love of his life, and make him miserable, so he used you as bait.

as you were walking down a sketchy road to pass the convenience store to get a snack, you heard a loud clang in a sketchy alleyway and you stopped in your tracks, turning your head to look at the gloomy area— and before you knew it, the green goblin glided out and took you in, covering your mouth to prevent you from screaming and his other hand holding a knife.

he took you to a rooftop in a sketchy area, the moon and street lights being so dim you can barely see anything. the green goblins breath over your neck as the knife he was holding was now on your neck, as he glided through the surface of it and making you bleed and wince in pain.

“what do you want from me? let me fucking go please!” you screamed as tears planted your face— trying to escape from his grasp.

“now now sweetheart, i need your little boyfriend, you’re useless to me— i just need to kill you and then kill him next.”

he whispered into your ear as you cringed back— his words echoing in your mind over and over again, the realization hitting you that he’s gonna kill miles— when you heard a voice from afar, a familiar voice you’ve always known.

“let ‘em go.” the voice was demeaning, when you lifted your head up and saw.. “miles..?” you whispered as tears began streaming down your face, when the green goblin shut you up by slicing another cut with the knife as you cried out in pain.

miles webbed the knife onto the ground as he stepped closer and was ready to pounce on the green goblin, he’d do anything just to keep you alive— even it means he had to face the opposite.

“hold on now— if you’re gonna kill me you’ll be killing them now wouldn’t you?” he said, his free hand now gripping on your neck as he choked you— your struggling making your breath shorter every second.

miles put his hand down as he looked over to the green goblins glider that was on the side of the door— he grabbed it by webbing it and slid it off the rooftop, the web still holding on to it as it was dangling off the rooftop.

the green goblin gasped as he let go of your neck, leaving you to fall on the ground as you gasped for air— the sight of you making miles want to punch out the green goblins guts for doing this to you.

“it’s either, you give me them or i’ll drop your precious little glider.” miles protested, his voice was low but angry— a side of him you’ve never seen before.

the green goblin didn’t answer as he kept stepping closer to miles, and miles backing away in his every move.

the green goblin got tired of his little game and grabbed your hand and threw you over to miles, which in result making miles more furious.

“there, you have them now give me back my glider.” the green goblin protested as he walked closer to miles.

“come and catch it then.” miles let go of the web resulting the green goblin shouting a “NO!” — the glider falling down as the green goblin jumped to get it.

miles then looked over to you, bending down to your height as you sat on the floor— in pain and helpless.

“are you okay?” miles panicked, his both hands on your shoulders as he scanned for wounds other than the one on your neck.

you nodded as you swallowed the lump in your throat, causing you to tear up again and this making miles even more worried.

“i’m.. i’m still into you, morales.” you blurted out, causing miles to look at you with admiration.

“i should be over by the butterflies already but, i’m into you,”

as you sighed shakily to look up at miles, his hand reached for your jawline as he caressed it softly, wiping the blood away from your neck as he kissed you softly.

its like you’ve been waiting for this moment forever, now that the green goblin was gone (or was he..?)— he had you all to himself with no worries.

he pulled away from the kiss, chuckling softly as your forehead pressed on his, your nose brushing over his.

“god how i missed you and this moment, mi vida, i’m so sorry i left you— there want a day that passed by that i haven’t thought about you.” he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you closer to him as your head was on his shoulder.

“i missed you more, and i’m glad you’re still into me.”

© hearts4hobie, all rights reserved. do not steal, translate, and rewrite without permission. love y’all mwah♥️ 💋

#conitagray #fluff #angst #across the spider verse #astv x reader #astv #miles my beloved #miles morales #miles morales 1610 x reader #miles x reader #miles morales 1610 #spidermanacrossthespiderverse

[sol-emers]

Hii new story based off the TV show "Yellowjackets" if any of you would like to be tagged in the next parts please comment, and I own none of the gifs all rights go to them:) Also please give me feedback! I love to know if I made mistakes or if you giys think the story should go in a certain direction!

- sol ☀️

Cornelia Street

Summary: A soccer team gets in a plane crash and stranded for 19 months. In team already full of secrets and drama what more could go down?

Warnings: mentions of drinking, alcohol, descriptions of gore, blood, mentions of sex, and a shitty relationships with parents (nothing physical)

Oc x multiple male, female characters

||

"So what do you think really happend out there?" 

1996

August wanted to be anywhere but here right now. 

It was early morning, two hours shy from when she had to be in a classroom- foot tapping, eyes rolling, and boredom already becoming something she was dreading. 

She flipped the fried eggs as her mom floated around the kitchen talking August and her siblings ear off about the next few days ahead. 

Nothing she and her siblings hadn't heard before. Their mom had a press conference in Tampa and was already anticipating leaving her children behind for some hot fuck to probably make some more. 

If there's anyone August hated it was her mother. 

Usually as she was the eldest it was up to her to make sure her siblings were fed and roofed while her mother was gone, but in two days time she was sure she'd be at nationals winning the trophy with her best friend Van right at her side. 

She couldn't wait. 

"Now remember Augustine, no party's, no boys, absolutely no mischief while I'm gone." 

She rolled her eyes, "that's nice and all mother, but it seems you've forgotten. Willa is in charge this week." 

Her mother could only pause, sighing prickly like she hadn't known her daughter was going out of town for the past week. 

"Fine. Willa you heard what I just said. Remember feed your brothers, your sister will leave you money on the table before she leaves, a vacation charge since she thinks she deserves to go on her trip." 

August sighed sharply, scraping the rest of the eggs roughly on to the plate before placing it in front of her baby brother. Messing with his curls before moving on to her other brother, giving him is food as well- kissing the side of his head. 

August and Willa served themselves, both having the smallest portion in comparison to their mother and brothers plates. 

The two made eye contact, a silent promise made to be kept while August would be gone.

They kept the stare until a loud honking echoed from the outside of the house, a yell making its way from the screen door.

"A! We're late hurry the fuck up!" 

August, avoiding her mother's glared scooped up the rest of her food. It being gone quick due to the urgency. Grabbing her bag sliding her books and pens inside and hopping to the door with one foot out of her shoe. 

"Bye loves, mom- don't wait up!" 

She yelled, running out the door to her smirking friend waiting impatiently for the brunette. 

"How are the kiddies?" Was the first thing Van asked as August climed through her car window (the door was sealed shut).

"They could be better-"

One leg through.

"Uh- if my mom wasn't such a bitch, drive."

As she got her other leg in. 

Van laughed and just sped off in her shitbox car she stole off her dad after he left.  

Van and August met when they were in elementary school, initially bonding on the fact that they both had shitty moms and shared love for music and soccer. 

After they had already become friends Van's dad left and August's died and the bond had been sealed forever.

Trauma can do that shit. 

Wouldn't they know it. 

"She still going on that trip?" 

"Yup." And she was not happy about it. The trip hadn't even been scheduled when her team had won their ticket to nationals, but as soon as August brought up the tickets to her mom it had been suddenly booked for months. 

Her mom hadn't wanted her to go. 

"What our lovely mothers dont realize is once we are gone were gone- like do they think we'll just always stick around?" 

Van had come up with the theory August's mom had scheduled the trip as a power move, a way to tell her even when the options right there- that'd she would never leave. 

Thank god for Willa. 

Willa was two years under August, a sophomore and August's first best friend. The two sisters are close and have already agreed to naming any future children after each other. Spouses be damned. 

August scoffed once more, leaning down into her bag taking out her journal and turning up their favorite band. Noting that they were almost at the camp grounds where the party was being held. Yes the party was in their honor but with the two of them being in student council it was their job to help set these things up. 

(It also helped the school didn't realize August had a fake ID and would usually booze these things up)

It's there fault for never having adult supervision at these things. 

Hours later and now in the locker room prepping for the pep rally, the girls were in better moods. Blasting music and brushing hair was what you'd see and hear if you even walked past the girls locker room door in the hallway. 

"here I go, here I go, here I go again! girls whats my weakness?" they all sang and shouted "men!" at the end.

Natalie and Lottie dancing around each other was all August could notice as she tried not to stare from her locker. 

Only joining in on the fun as Van grabbed her arms and started jumping like they were about to get in a fight- singing along practically screaming the lyrics in each other's faces. 

"i swear, I stared, my niece my witness, my brother had it goin on with something kind of. uh! wicked wicked had to kick it!"

Only letting go when it was clear they really didn't have the time to be fooling as the girls did face paint and tied up there sneakers. 

August adjusted her bangs one more time before closing her locker and migrating to the far left of the room, where she could now hear the conversation happening. 

"Well- hey at least you can wear it next year." Her best friend offered as comfort to the freshman pouting over prom. 

"You don't get it Van, cause nobody asked you." 

August raised her eyebrows at the white girls audacity and Van's non existent reaction. If it were her, she didn't give a damn that she was on her team why does she think it's any of her business? 

"Okay, your done." Van said nodding lightly at the freshman. Until she smiled and walked away like she didn't just drop a bitch bomb. 

Lottie waited by the door until she was gone, only letting out a "Jesus christ" at the display from minutes prior. 

While snorts and chuckles were let out in the locker room. Before the four girls, Van, Lottie, Tai, and August moved to check their reflection in the mirror. 

"Does someone wanna tell Kelly Kapowski

to maybe worry less about prom and maybe more about not fucking up nationals" 

"Oh come on" 

"She's right-" 

"I mean if she plays like she did at states."

"That's not going to happen." Tai said leaning back with her arms crossed, letting August come over and help wrap a silk scarf around her head like a headband. 

"Anyone see jackie?" 

"Right here." The girl in question said, leaving the coaches office smirking smug and she gestured to the gym doors. 

"Sounds like our cue gals" brushing past August's shoulder as she walked past. 

"Sound like our cue gals" August repeated, mocking the teams captain making brief eye contact with Nat on the way out to the gym, hearing the last of the boys team lame portion of the celebration.

August knew she was a bitch eighty percent of the time. She just had little energy for others bullshit and can almost always tell when someone's going to end up being a snake. And little miss Jackie Taylor had been on that list since day one.

Starting to run when Jackie did, number 10 Augstine Jones made her effort to bask in the praise while she had it. 

Smiling up at everyone at the bleachers feeling like she'd accomplished something, humming along in her head when she felt inspiration flooding towards her brain. 

As soon as they were excused she ran back to the locker room searching for a pen and her book, settling for a pencil and a sticky note she'd shove in later writing down sort rhyming lines.

She knew the lines were sad, but they were just as much poetic if anything. Which was pretty much her brand with everything these days. 

As the other girls rushed into the locker room, mostly prepping for the fact that now that the glory was over they had to practice for the next couple hours. 

A faint clearing of a throat got her attention and she turns to the left to see Taissa nudging her head out side staring at her with wide eyes. 

Taissa and August weren't close but the two had definitely established a bond. Being two of the very few black girls in their age group, plus their mutual connection and love for Van kept them friendly. 

August shoved the sticky note somewhere in her locker, closing it before jogging out the room where she discovered Tai, Nat, and Lottie waiting for her to join them. 

"Group meeting- now." Tai said leaning the other confused girls out the school.

"Sorry to burst your bubble there T but this isn't the team- it's like less than a portion of it." August said leaning up against a lamp post when they finally got outside.

Tai rolled her eyes and started her point. Talking about taking about Ally and how she would end up dragging down the team if they let her have the ball during nationals. 

Nat looked upset and kept glancing at August expecting the same reaction. 

Though all she would find was a contemplative face as she thought about what Taissa had brought up. 

"This is what we've worked for all season. Do you really wanna take that chance?" 

"Yeah" Nat said straighting up her shoulders, "because I'm not a fuckin asshole." 

"What are you guys talking about?" Shauna joined,

"Ally" lottie said nodding her head slightly.

"What about her?" 

"Did you black out at states? She totally choked-" 

"She's a freshman-" 

"Which is exactly why Tai has a point. She's a freshmen, she needs another year or so before being a varsity. I don't know what coach was thinking." 

"Exactly she's a liability." 

"So what do you want to do about it?" 

"She can't screw up if she doesn't get the ball." 

"You wanna freeze her out." Shauna concluded, as August raised her eyebrows expecting a better plan.

They were a team and while yes she was a liability it was a weaker move to just not use her at all. It shows that they aren't a team and that isn't what champions do. 

"At least we know what we're working with." Tai said looking for security in her team. 

Lottie and August stared at each other, "she kind of sucks but- I don't know." 

August shook her head, "I agree she definitely shouldn't be playing- but maybe we could convince coach to bench her or something. I mean we really don't need her and it's for a logical reason."

Technically they really didn't need Ally there. The Yellowjackets had a centerback and Ally was really there for back up, which Lottie wouldn't end up needing anyway. It was better to just bench her incase the girls did need her. 

"You need a logical reason because it's bullshit-" 

"Oh yeah? What's your plan?" 

"Play like a fucking team and win? Its worked so far." 

She shook her head- "everything works until it doesn't. And for the record, you smell like a wino, get your shit together" 

"Don't fuckin talk to her like that tai!" 

"Okay- now you shut up." Nat waved her hand in August's face. 

"You don't get to defend me after siding with her." She said, August rolling her eyes at the childness of it all. 

"And you know what- fuck this." She threw her hands up and just walked away- the other girls letting her. 

While August just sighed and followed after the blond who wasn't giving her the time of day. Eventually she followed Nat all the way to practice, where there was no opening to even talk to her. 

But August knew that. Coach was a grade a asshole- even with Coach Scott taking over for him today. There were strict rules when it came to practice starting. 

"Alright bring it in, take a knee ladies!" 

Coach Scott said as everyone kneeled around him in the grass. 

"What up state champs!" he yelled out as everyone cheered.

"Okay- so JV is gonna help us out with a little scrimmage today, uh Coach Martinez had to take care of a family thing, so JV your gonna grab a pinny from Misty and let's get started." Coach Scott said.

"uh excuse me Coach Scott? shouldnt we say a prayer first?" Laura Lee asked a hopeful but expectant expression on her face. 

He hesitated but shook his head tiredly, "Its just a scrimmage Laura Lee, but sure. Yeah knock yourself out. Everyone joined together reluctantly and listened as laura lee said some prayer, everyone said amen and then as soon as they could got to playing the game.

Shauna dribbles upfield, easily maneuvering around the JV defender. Allie races open on her left, but Shauna ignores her, opting for a trickier pass to Van. When Natalie darts in and kicks the ball. 

"Nat over here!" August said, but instead

she ignored her and passed the ball to Ally.

August just ignored the petty girl, continuing to run. Like she hadn't just been ignored. 

"Alright lets go varsity! Taissa wants to see you step it up and quite frankly that makes two of us! lets see some hustle!" Coach Scott said.

The game kept progressing, getting slightly heated though only a scrimmage. 

Shauna and Taissa continued on with the plan, dodging any attempt Ally made for the ball and it got to the point of Jackie and Van staring right at the two girls almost asking 'what the fuck?' 

August who'd walked away before Shauna and Taissa agreed on the plan. Had only recently caught on to the fact that they were in fact going through with it. 

She contemplated if she should or shouldn't- before she heard a sickening snap! 

Turning her head to Taissa and Ally she sees- well she doesn't quite know what she's looking at, is that bone? 

When she comes to the realization it is- August turns away immediately walking to the other side of the field trying to catch her breath in shock of what just happened, because previous to before the break she'd just been sprinting across the field. 

Only half registering her best friend to the side of her throwing up her guts, until she snapped out of it and grabbed on to Van's hair as the girl puked. 

Once Ally was taken by the ambulance, Coach Scott riding with her to the hospital the rest of the team walked back to the locker room in silence. 

A tense air floating around as the girls slowly got ready to head home for the night until the party later. 

Everyone's avoiding eye contact- really unsure about what they would even say if someone did open their mouth. 

Except Nat, who's very obviously glaring at Tai. Jackie is the one who breaks the silence. Her perky voice echoing in the room as she says "I know we're all worried about Allie. But I really think we need

to focus on the positive right now. It might not be as bad as it looks"

Nat scoffs shaking her head. 

"You could see her fucking bones, Jackie. I'm pretty sure it's exactly as bad as it looks."

"Oh God. I think I'm gonna puke again…" Van said, shaking her head regrettably, as August looked at her and hesitantly rubbed her back- hoping to give some sort of comfort. 

Jackie glares a Nat, taking a breath before continuing "I mean, we're still a team. And we still have each other. And…" 

She drifted off as August muttered "some team we are" shaking her head and looking to nat with an apologetic look. The guilt already rushing in, knowing she even just slightly agreed with the plan.

Jackie just turned to Shauna hoping for some backup- but really all she got was a tired look. 

Natalie just slams her locker shut. Done with this conversation and intense air. Leaving the locker room dramatically as Augustine not so discrete slowly inched up and followed after the girl. 

Hoping it looked like she just wanted to get out of there despite Van being her ride. 

(Though she wasn't really) 

Following Nat out into the hallway all the way till they made it to Nats car. August very quickly snatching the keys from her already knowing most likely she wasn't sober. 

They both got in and August started driving, the same tense air having followed all the way to the car. 

"So, are you going to stay mad at me forever?" 

Natalie sighed and turned to look out the window. "I'm- I'm not mad at you okay." 

"Okay? So why do I suddenly feel like I ripped up your favorite Montley Crue shirt?" August asked the fake blond teasingly.

That got Nat to loosen up a bit, "Oh please if anything it's your favorite shirt- with how often you steal it." 

"The day I stop wearing your clothes is the day we break up love." 

"Yeah well that's not happening anytime soon." She said, suddenly staring at August with her pouty lip jutted out like she was upset. 

August and Van had to be the queens of secret relationships. Though August definitely took the title for this one because hers remained a secret to her best friend. 

August and Natalie had almost always been foils in their day to day life. Pure opposites yet so alike at the same time, they clashed perfectly. 

They had years of unreleased sexual tension by homecoming of junior year, they were fucking by Christmas and in love by Valentines. 

The two had kept it a secret for their parents sake, with Nats dad and August's mom being on their backs constantly it was easier keeping those parts of themselves hidden away. 

The only one who even knew they were closer than just two teammates was Natalie's mom who just assumed they were close friends who had a lot of sleepovers. 

Van knows that there's someone in August's life she just never pushes for details. If anyone knows the backlash a secret coming out can have its her. 

So she goes with the flow dropping August off everyday and going home with Taissa, only knowing that her friends has a ride with someone who loves her. 

Speaking of a ride. August pulls over, face impassive as she stared at nothing. Nat knows better than to say anything, giving time and patience to the girl in front of her.

August's hands came up to Nats face, redirecting the girls focus to her. Cupping her cheeks and bringing their lips together. 

Although the annoyance for her girlfriend was still firmly in her chest, she would never fight August. Instead leaning further into the kiss. 

When they separated all August could think was, "You sure your not mad?" 

"No, more disappointed that you would've just let that happen." She said, grazing her hand up and down the brunettes cheek. 

Leaning closer, right up next to August's ear she whispers. "But I may know of a few ways you can make it up to me." She smirks leaning back on the leather seats, looking down at her girlfriends love shining through her eyes as clear as glass. 

"Well then I must not disappoint." 

||

Hope you guys liked it- please don't be a silent reader, and please let me know if you'd like to be tagged! Augustines face claim is young Tatyana Ali- in specifics her teenage Fresh prince of Belair era. Willa's face claim is young halle bailey:)

Thanks for reading, see you soon!

-sol

#yellowjackets showtime #yellowjackets #natalie scatorccio #travis martinez #lottie matthews #van palmer #taissa turner #jackie taylor #shauna shipman #jeff shipman #callie #coach scott #misty quigley #laura lee #six of crows #austin butler #kaz brekker #nina zenik #austin butler elvis #stucky x daughter!reader #stucky x daughter #young tony stark #young tony stark x reader #bucky barnes x reader series

[ravenzeppeli]

Pissed Off |Yandere Diego Brando x Reader|

Warning: strong language, spanking/whipping, nudity, sexual remarks, yandere. MA.

         The room was silent, so silent that you felt yourself growing extremely uncomfortable as Diego’s cyan eyes stared into your soul. His eyes were hard, hands balled into fists at his side. He stood across from you, the unmade queen size bed that the two of you shared behind him. He was pissed, his fists beginning to shake - you couldn’t help but look away, feeling as if you’ve crossed a serious line in your relationship.

         Suddenly, the silence was broken by a laugh - his laugh was dry, loud, his beaming laugh echoing off of the thin eggshell painted walls. “It’s funny how you always test me, so funny!” He exclaimed suddenly, the sudden base in voice causing you to flinch. “Why don’t you come over here? Let me get a closer look at what my girlfriend decided to wear out without my knowledge!”

         You didn’t move. You didn’t want to move towards him because you knew that he was upset. He was possessive - not only did you leave without telling him, but you also were wearing tight pants and a shirt that was showing a little too much cleavage. In your defense, you didn’t know that he would be coming home early today.. he came home three hours earlier today, something that he never does.

        “I paid people to watch you. The funny thing is that you do this at least three times a week. You could go out with me - when I get home I would love to go anywhere you’d like!” He exclaimed even louder, his bare feet padding against the hardwood floor, coming towards you. “You didn’t even cover yourself up. You just let men stare at your ripe breasts on full display because that corset is definitely doing it’s job!” His voice switched, thick bitterness now coating his tone as he stood in front of you, looking directly at you. “Anything you want to say to me, my girlfriend?”

         You let your head raise, his face inches away from yours - Diego wasn’t an extremely tall or buff man, but he was still just as intimidating, maybe even more so. “I’m sorry, Diego, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, though! I was just going on walks, nothing more than that, I swear to you.” You weren’t running around cheating. You just wanted peace. Time out of this house.. was that so wrong?

         He shrugged his shoulders, “do you think that I care? You broke my rules. That’s what I care about. And you know what I gotta do when you break the rules, don’t ya?” He questioned, his hands lowering, and you heard it.. you heard that damned doing, him unfastening his thick leather belt. Fuck.. could you avoid this? Shit, you kind of liked it when he spanked you. It was nice having someone in control of your life for you.

        “You spank me when I break the rules, but can’t I get a warning?” You questioned, getting a scoff in response, his belt being pulled from its loops, the leather gently hitting your leg. “How about I spank you for being an annoying boyfriend? How would you like that, bitch?” You snapped suddenly, being offended by his scoff but you already regretted what you said by the sudden stiffness that formed in his body, his hands folding the belt in half, smacking your clothed behind with one swift smack, causing you to crash into him, a pained groan escaping your lips. “Ow, I’m sorry alright?!” You cried, only because you knew that you fucked up bad.

          His other hand fiddled with your pants button, snatching your pants down, revealing that you weren’t wearing any underwear. “Is this some kind of joke?! Why aren’t you wearing any undergarments?!” He snapped at you, grabbing you by your waist and dragging you over to the bed. “I’m going to beat your ass, that’s it! You are going to get it proper, you disrespect strumpet!” He threw you on the bed, and before you could even position yourself, he let you have it - and he let you have it good. He was going to make sure that his anger was felt.

           The belt violent cracked down on your bare bottom, landing in the center of your ass and making a loud pop sound when it met your skin, and you couldn’t help but to let a loud gasp escape your lips. It hurt - he always warmed you up before he stared so you weren’t used to such brutality. The second hit came crashing in the same spot, and you let your hands shoot behind your bottom, protecting the newly bruising area from his harsh blows. “P-please, w-wait!” You cried out, your hands rubbing at your flesh- ow, your cool touch only made it sting worse.

         “Oh no the fuck you don’t,” he snapped, his other hand grabbing your wrists and pinning them behind your back. “Don’t you make me tie you up and wet your bottom, I can make this punishment much worse then it already is if you don’t obey me! You knew that you would get in trouble!” The belt crashed down on the same area twice, causing tears to practically spill from your eyes.

        You blinked roughly, the salt from your tears stinging your eyes, but that was the least of your worries. You felt it - a purple bruise forming on your ass. It hurt. It hurt so bad that you immediately regretted testing him. “P-please, I’ll.. I’ll listen!” You cried out, a choked sob escaping your lips when the belt crashed down on the area just below the bruise twice, leaving behind a string just as severe. “It hurts, please!”

        “You damn right you’ll listen, sneaking around for two months behind my back deserves a punishment like this!” He screamed, landing a sharp smack on your sit spot, your body jerking up from the pain. “You promised me that you weren’t sneaking off, you lied to my face for two months! I waited for you to be honest, but you never were, so now I’m going to bruise your ass up like I never have before!” Two more smacks were landed on the sit spots, each one harder than the last.

          You felt as if you were going to go mad - this wasn’t the spankings that you were use too, he was never this hard! You didn’t like this, but you weren’t supposed to.. this was a punishment, an actual punishment that really fucking hurt. “I’m sorry that I lied, I’ll never lie to you again Diego!” You told him, and you meant that.. you didn’t like being punished so harshly but he did warn you.. you should have listened to his warnings.

          “Don’t worry, my lovely, I know that you won’t! If you do, a fresh switch will be going on your wet bottom, and I’ll do it right on the front porch so that the neighborhood sees! I’ll strip you naked and let them watch, make sure the husbands bring their wives so they learn to listen!” Diego screamed, the belt now covering every inch of your ass in a repeated motion - he just kept getting angrier. “You will know your place as my girlfriend, and you won’t leave without me! You won’t dress improperly!”

        You wiggled violently against his grip, but he was stronger than you. It was like he had some other force working with him to keep you down. “Okay, okay!” You cried out, kicking your legs, making sure that out didn’t accidentally kick him because then all hell would break loose. “It hurts, my ass hurts! I can’t take it, I’ll be good! I WILL LISTEN!” You screamed, and with that, you heard the belt drop. Good.. it was over, but he wasn’t moving. You had a bad feeling suddenly..

            

            “I will not be lied to anymore.. I refuse to allow it.” Suddenly, his palm crashed down on your raw and sore ass with all off his strength, a loud pop sound filling the air. No.. no more, you began to sob, words not being able to come out of your mouth. “I love you, and I will protect you.. from you. I deserve a thank you for punishing you, don’t you think?” He questioned, letting his palm crash into your left cheek, the pain causing your entire body to have a severe shake.

         You couldn’t fight back. You had to give him exactly what he wanted. You knew he was crazy going into this, so this was your burden to carry. You loved him, and because you loved him as much as you did, you found yourself obeying him. “T-thank you for punishing me! I-I love you too, I’m so sorry, Diego!” You showing thanks sounded more like begging. You just wanted him to stop.

          His hand crashed against your backside once more before another laugh escaped his lips. He landed next to you, sitting down on the edge of the bed as he freed your arms. He leaned down, placing a kiss on your lips. “Perfect, now get up and stand in front of me. Have your bare bottom facing me - I’m not done with you yet. After spankings come time outs.”

       You listened, quickly standing up and walking in front of him. You were quick to turn your back to him, not wanting him to see your face anymore due to how badly you were sobbing.. and this just made it worse because it wasn’t over yet. Why couldn’t it just be over?

         “Bend over and put your hands on your knees, I want to sit here and stare at your naked bottom. I also see that your pussy is wet, I’ll have a good view of that too as you’re bent over. You know I like this punishment the most.. so go ahead and bend over for me,” Diego told you, his hand smacking your left cheek. “You’re so cute.. thinking you could get away with lying to me. I bet the thought of lying will never cross your pretty little mind again.”

         You bent yourself over, placing your hands on your knees and closing your eyes. You had a long and humiliating night ahead of you.. Diego was on a warpath and you were the only thing in his path. You and your lies, you definitely wouldn’t be lying to him ever again. You would listen to him, and you would avoid these situations.. but were they unavoidable? You didn’t know.. but you had a bad feeling.

#tw nude #tw whipping #tw adult themes #tw yandere #tw physical abuse #tw physical violence #tw physical harm #ravenzeppeli #jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #tw strong language #ravenzeppeli yandere #tw language #steel ball run #diego brando #sbr

[aajjks]

reward!jungkook

its been four days and jungkook hasn’t left the house. he’s too consumed by guilt and grief to step outside and show his face. no one has told him about syelle’s funeral and he wonders if it’s because nobody wanted him to attend.

he just lays in bed wallowing in his own regrets. he curses himself for being so stupid and so blind for you when he should’ve been syelle’s side. he holds onto her wedding ring and whispers apologies he hopes she can hear even though what he did was unforgivable.

how can he live on when he took an innocent woman’s life? why can’t this be one of his worst nightmares where he wakes up in a cold sweat? syelle is alive and you never existed.

why couldn’t it be him that died from a broken heart?

*ding dong*

“jungkook? hey!! it’s eunwoo open—“

“just break it down, eunwoo. he’s been in there for four days!”

“alright alright”

slowly, jungkook makes his way downstairs to open the door for eunwoo and his wife of 3 years, alina.

“jungkook! oh my goodness! i’m so sorry we’re late” says alina as she takes his hand in hers. “sorry for your loss. i know it must be traumatizing to find her there like that. are you okay?”

that’s right, neither eunwoo nor alina knows about his infidelity. they don’t know about the sex tape or you. jungkook wonders if he should tell his friends the truth considering they knew nothing about it. was he so wrapped up in you that he forgot all about his friends?

it all happened so fast that he can’t remember when it all came crashing down but he feels it. hurt, guilt, grief, hate, he feels it all.

“poor girl passed from a broken heart…was she depressed or something? you know what, don’t tell us. you’re still grieving and we don’t want to overwhelm you” says alina as the three of them take a seat on the leather couch.

“you haven’t called or texted us in weeks. we wanted to make sure you were okay”

“yeah, her funeral is tomorrow. we wanted to go with you so you wouldn’t be alone”

should jungkook tell his friends the truth?

Jungkook starts to wallow so loud, Eunwoo’s eyes widen but his wife is not surprised because he’s a grieving husband at the end of the day

“why are you so surprised? his wife died-if I died, wouldn’t you cry like this?”

She whispers getting close to her husband’s face, but right now they need to focus on their friend who’s crying like a kid. they didn’t know that he loved Syelle so much because it was more of an arranged marriage but of course, everyone falls in love with time.

And it’s so sad because she was so young and hearing that she died from a broken heart possibly could have went wrong?

“Come on man just tell us what’s going on why do you look so guilty?” Eunwoo asks and yes they’re curious because… jungkook is just refusing eye contact with them.

He needs to prepare himself for another punch to the jaw, or maybe his nose this time. So Jungkook takes in a breath, “I was having an affair.” He breathes out and the couples eyes almost pop out of their eye sockets.

“you bastard- WHAT THE FUCK MAN.” Eunwoo cusses. “ I had been cheating on her for more than a year with a girl I fell in love with…”

You.

“and the night she died. I was busy fucking yn.. but yn turned out to be a crazy bitch who sent her a video that I wasn’t even aware of being recorded- to her.. and she died..”

Honestly, who the fuck is yn? They’re both wondering and alina so disgusted while her husband gets up from his chair, and grabs jungkook by his shoulders to punch him.

That makes a cringing noise, but… he deserves it.

Jungkook hisses and tears come out of his eyes. It’s not because of the physical pain. It’s because of the pain in his heart.

“I-I know! THAT BITCH WON’T STOP CALLING ME- I left her I just want to die! KILL ME PLEASE.” He cries on pathetically, his lip has started to bleed.

“you’re fucked up you know that? SHE DIED OF A BROKEN HEART, BECAUSE OF YOU AT THE AGE OF 24. THAT’S CRAZY YOU’RE GOING TO BURN IN HELL WHO THE FUCK IS THIS WOMAN I NEED TO SEE HER FACE.” Eunwoo groans at jungkook.

“I KNOW, BUT I STILL LOVE HER- I CAN’T HELP IT BUT SYELLE DIDN’T DESERVE TO DIE.” Jungkook actually crazy because he still feels like he loves you..

But his conscious, and his heart is so heavy with what’s happened to Syelle.

“I REALLY WISH SHE DIDN’T DIE.”

Alina has tears in her eyes and she can’t help but stare at the ring in jungkooks grip, he’s lying he’s not in love with you.

He’s in love with his wife, who is dead now.

“OH, YOU’RE PATHETIC.”

Jungkook knows.

“please I need to attend her funeral and I will stop with yn… I will be alone for the rest of my life because Syelle didn’t deserve this and now she’s dead because of me- THAT’S RIGHT YOU NEED TO REDEEM YOURSELF, SO GET READY TOMORROW AND WE’RE GOING TO THE FUNERAL OF YOUR WIFE-I swear to God if I see your mistress there, I’m going to kill that bitch with my hands.”

#ask: reward!jungkook

[chialattea]

Lol, my Hawke is also the bottom in her relationship with Bela (it just makes sense to me) and they do commit crimes together but she tends to be more blue/diplomatic. Is yours sarcastic? And what exactly is their dynamic like?

OH MY GOD I JUST SAW THISN HFGVFYU

I forgot tumblr asks were a thing,, thank god i started fucking around and clicked the correct button.

Bottom Hawke enjoyers unite!!!! I just think it's especially funny considering theyre quote unquote the leader of the group, so thinking of them as actually losers who are just winging it makes me so happy.

My Hawke is mostly a purple/sarcastic hawke. She's mostly quite laid back and easygoing because she's allergic to taking things seriously and/or confronting her issues, which bites her in the ass as the story progresses. She'd rather die than let people know she has feelings other than funny one-liners. She's loud and rash, but somehow things keep working out for her... Until they dont. They really come crashing down. Behind her chronic class clown facade is someone with a very set personal moral code. She genuinely cares for her friends and has a surprisingly high EQ, which is why the kirkwall gang hasnt devolved into beating each other senseless. At first glance she seems flaky and unreliable, but she's relentless when it comes to that she thinks as her responsibilities: her family, her friends, and for some fucking reason the city of Kirkwall (she really, really wishes she hadnt gotten attached god fucking damnit, its a dumpster but its HER dumpster). Those are the only three subjects you'll see her getting serious about. Other than that she values freedom quite highly and doesn't really care about the big picture or politics. She's more of a small-scale, act local kind of gal.

At first Isabela and her get along like a house on fire; they love partying, they love drinking, Isabela finds Hawke's smartass attitude hilarious and Hawke finds really attractive how Isabela can steal shit without being found out. The problems start when Hawke's sense of responsibility and morals start to show up. It's not like Hawke has any issue with Isabela doing whatever she wants, she's a "live and let live" kind of person, but,,, even if Hawke presents herself as an unrepentant clown, she's anything but. She wants to help to a self-sacrificing degree, refuses to engage with her own needs and has little sense of self-preservation. She's careless yet also keeps prioritizing everyone else before herself, which infuriates Isabela. They begin a situationship which is supposed to be purely physical, but Hawke gets attached yet refuses to admit it, even to herself; Isabela finds Hawke's newfound moral righteousness grating and makes her feel judged for her choices. Basically miscommunications galore. They have a big fight where neither of them actually listen to each other and refuse to be emotionally vulnerable.

And yet both of them come back for the other in their time of need, regardless and even in spite of their positions because no matter what they actively choose to love each other,, does that make sense? After the second act both of them decide their relationship is worth the trouble of,, working through their issues together and trying to better themselves. As everything around Hawke and Kirkwall start crashing down their relationship becomes their solace. It's hard, and they fuck up a lot, but they choose to make it work and actively care for their relationship.

Yeah but anyways, my Hawke is also a bumbling idiot with enough charisma to compensate it. She has fucked before but blushes like a maiden the second she sees Isabela's ankle. She's the "me and the bad bitch i pulled with my whimsical rizz" meme. Isabela is like hawke no and shes like hawke YESSSSS she's a golden retriever. if i had to choose a character she's most similar to it'd be gideon i guess.

TLDR; hawke: "isabela i taped myself to the ceiling but now i cant get down can you handfeed me some hot pockets" isabela: "why do i find this attractive"

#da2 #dragon age #chia rambles #hawkebela #god i wrote this without thinking ill definitely make a better post #but i wanted to answer because i felt so bad i hadnt seen this ask before #anyways its all about emotional vulnerability and choosing to love each other around here #and being chaotic together #be gay do crimes #aveline is constantly on the verge of a stroke #hawke is the kind of gal who says yippee unironically #shes cringe but she is free #everyone is like god damnit shes so fucking pathetic why do we like her #shes eating food off the floor #yet somehow when push comes to shove she DELIVERS #so they grow attached to their horror

[calypsos-siren]

Chapter One - Calypso's Siren

Plot: I felt like Finnick and Annie's story never received the love that it deserved. I'm a huge fan of Finnick x Annie but struggle with the helpless & hopeless idea of Annie.

This is like my own personal love letter to women who have gone through trauma but are more than their breakdowns.

I'd appreciate if you'd listen to this while you read :)

-------------------------

For a moment, I swear a fog engulfs me - the moisture circling around my head, sinking into my skin, drawing itself down my throat. Every sense elusive as I make a desperate attempt to tether myself to anything concrete. A loud crash from an adjacent room causes my teeth to clamp down on my tongue, feeling the relief of the metallic bitterness that follows suite. For now, I am alive. I am breathing. I try to ignore the taste, but it's a filling my mouth at a pace identical to the man storming towards my open door.

Dad lingers in the doorway, gripping a jar that makes my nose instinctively scrunch. His anger is evident as he scans me up in down, assessing the damage of my latest outburst. He is a specter of disdain and lost sympathy, a relic of who he was before it all had began to crumble. Had he held on, perhaps, even just a bit, he may have embraced being our lifeline. Instead, he turned to a mistress in the form of liquid fire and drowned in his sins.

He leans, hand clenching the doorframe's remnants, oblivious in sickness, wrapped in spite. He silently scrutinizes me in his drunken haze, comparing every twitch of my form to hers. He doesn't need to speak to show this, his green eyes narrow and his mouth is held in a snarl. His face twisted into something that looks remarkably like resentment.

"Your mother did this to you." It comes out with venom. He's slurring so much that anyone else would not catch it - but I've been here before. His words have long slipped down my throat in battered sobs and carved themselves into my very core.

"Nothing to do with you at all. She's ruined every ounce of you."

His words are harsh and the corners of my mouth begin to taste like salt. I force myself to relax my jaw, resisting the impulse to react. Instead, I focus on clawing the wooden base of my battered bedside. The rotting wood easily finds a home beneath my fingernails, releasing the smell of moss and oak.

He waits, waiting for my resolve to crumble. I try. Giving him the breakdown that he wants is what my body screams for. I'm exhausted — he is exhausting. He wants, no, needs proof of any signs of weakness in order to justify his brigade. When the seams start to fray and my shoulders begin to shake, he takes his opportunity.

"I was told women from Seven are strong. Were you strong enough to watch the Games last year, Annie? A woman from Seven dominated that fucking arena. She is what I was told. And I got stuck with you,"

He spits and it lands at my feet.

"Your mom had the looks, I'll give that bitch that. But fuck, her bloodline is tainted." His gestures punctuate his words. Even in death, she bears the burden of his rage.

He forgets to add what was unsaid. Every fiber of your being reminds me of her and I cannot stand it.

"I'm fine, Dad. Really."

I repeat and we pretend that my voice didn't crack twice. I try not to acknowledge that he wants me to beg for forgiveness for being born from my mother. The distance between the foot on my bed and the hallway seems immeasurably large, freezing, but I try my best not to quiver. I fail at that, too.

I'm too busy shoving my face between my knees to notice his retreat, instead it's signaled by the sound of a slamming door and the attempted start of a dying boat engine. It begins my opportunity to drag myself to the wash. I subtly wipe up liquor and spit, dragging along an old sock as I move. Numbness encases me, but perhaps that's for the best. Isn't it?

I catch my reflection in the shards of recently broken glass littering the hallway. Inside this house, my reflection burns.

I grab a chunk of ice from our small insulated fridge and forcefully breathe through my mouth. The smell of fish is too apparent for my taste - combined with an uneasy stomach still recovering from our fight, I refuse to take the chance to inhale the slimy scent, instead focusing on my thoughts as I hold it beneath my eyes. Ice helps with swelling, though I question why it seems less efficient on swelling associated with tears.

The burn of the ice begins to settle into my bones and I welcome the pain, a change from the usual shroud of nothingness. However, it does little to soothe the thoughts ricocheting in my head. Today is the day of the Reaping - and my breath hitches at the reminder.

"This is the first year that you took out tesserae. It's not going to be you. Even if it was, someone would volunteer."

I don't bother to turn, instead opting to watch Kaia in the mirror. The scorn of pity looks less vicious in the reflection.

"I'm going on the boat before the Reaping. Come." Her voice carries a demand tempered by sympathy, the illusion of choice offered. She steps forward, pulling my body towards her in what little comfort she knows how to give.

And it is comforting. Kaia is the only sense of security that I've felt for a very long time. I'd like to think that I can offer the same to her, though I have a hunch that she's too busy being protective to benefit from it. She pulls away and stares at me, unapproving but lacking judgement.

"Sit down." She ushers towards the closed toilet as she reaches for a drawer. I follow her instructions, ignoring how heavy the air feels.

Kaia moved in silently, a gentle hum echoing through the porcelain enclosure. I kept my gaze averted, trying to avoid meeting my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I didn't want to confront the bruises on my skin, the dark circles beneath my eyes, the sickly pallor that had become a constant. But despite my best efforts to evade it, glimpses of my reflection taunted me in the periphery.

Kaia's comb moved through my hair in patient strokes, her silence a comforting gesture. We didn't need to talk about it.

She shook her head gently, the comb stilling for a moment. Her lips separated, paused, before opting for silence. Instead, she began braiding my rust shaded hair. I watched her olive hands dig into my locks, going through the motions that she surely has memorized. Separate the top half of my hair, then create a fishtail braid on each side, meet to create one large fishtail that sits on the scrunched waves of the bottom half.

She snaps the elastic before looking in the mirror. I look away when her eyes fall to the floor.

"Alright. Yeah, you're alright. Let's go."

Kaia moved through the decrepit shed, each footstep a sure marker of her location. It had seen better days. It was likely to never see them again. It seems like the only thing we are capable of is destruction here. Everything around us seems to twist, snap, and shatter before we follow suite. Ignoring the ghost in the hallway, she snaps the front door open and rushes out, essentially running towards our docked boat. I pause in the doorway, watching. She naturally excludes the grace of a victor, easily maneuvering through the dock to fetch our swaying raft. Her presence demands reverence and I say a silent thank you to the spirits of the sea for offering her this protection. Towering and dark-haired, she embodies the hue of olive skin—a testament to our small oceanfront life. She's long been ineligible for the Games at 22 and I begin to suspect that the spirits only look after their own.

My attempt to follow halts abruptly as I begin to catch up to her. The sensation of the sand against my bare feet offers a comfort that is rarely given and I try to soak in this moment. Just in case my name is drawn from that crystal bowl, I want to remember this. Weather worn slabs of wood and the smell of salt in the air, screeching fowls in the distance as they fight against the waves. This is me, and this is home.

She looks so happy. Her entire body stretches towards the waves as the tide pulls aggressively today. The spirits know, today. Kaia doesn't seem to mind; instead, she seems to greet the splashes with a warm welcome. It doesn't take long for her yellow sundress to be stained with sea salt. It's an obvious reminder of the day, once again, our usual attire tucked away and our best hanging over frail skin.

Kaia taps the boat's wooden boards, wordlessly urging me to snap out of it. Move. I climb aboard and hug my knees back to my chest. The sun has barely crept in and the air still bites at my skin, but it's a reprieve from the sweat and panic of this morning. I hardly notice when she pushes the small vessel further into the waves.

"I'm going to miss this." I murmur, though I'm not sure whether I'm talking to myself or Kaia.

"Miss what? You're so much like mom is, Annie. You worry too much."

"Like how Mom was."

"Like how Mom was."

There's an understood silence. I lean back, hoping for the sun to consume me. Can it burn me up? Spread my ashes amongst the wind before I ever stand before another Reaping.

"Do you ever miss her?" Kaia is the first to break the silence. I contemplate whether she can read my thoughts or if the look on my face gives it away.

"Sometimes. It depends. I don't know."

And truly I don't. Mom - a mix of honeyed coastal florals on good days, ash and whiskey on bad ones. She'd wander around with crimson pouring from her skin, a glaze over her eyes that verified that she wasn't fully aware of the things in front of her. But in her daze, in whatever nightmare consumed her from week to week, she would brush my hair and sing lullabies. She would rock herself from heel to heel while throwing her arms over me, matching her rhythm to the boats that swayed through the window. And we would just exist in each other's presence. And we would pretend to not notice the smell of blood in the air, or how rough the gauze was against my skin.

"Do you know why? Why was she like that, Kaia?"

Kaia's features soften, hesitancy evident, her eyes going distant before allowing in a deep breath. I decided to lean back into the hull, letting myself be set aflame with my eyes closed. This small act of privacy is the best I can offer.

"Maybe not today. Or any day. There's never a good day to talk about Mom unraveling, I guess," she scoffed. I'm not sure who at.

"One of her friends was a tribute in the 59th Hunger Games. In true District 4 fashion, she teamed with the careers. With us. We are the careers, you know. Despite how shitty our life is here." The lack of hidden cameras often gave Kaia an increased confidence and rage.

"She made it pretty far, I've seen the games. I found an old copy of it before we found Mom with a piece of rope wrapped,"

Anger surges, her breath hitching.

"Forget it. But I found the copy. She was stabbed - repeatedly. Mom watched it, lost it. It was easier for Dad to protect you, you were still young. You didn't get it yet. Me? I would catch her in the middle of the night, curled up on the couch, a copy of the games flashing from the TV. Over, and over, and over..."

I rolled over to take a peak at her, only to see her trying to catch her composure. Decided it's best to bury my face in folded arms instead. This is already hard, and she doesn't need someone staring at her in pity to make it worse.

"She was stabbed. The tribute from Two threw knives that hit its target but not with the intended accuracy. There was so much blood, I'm not sure exactly where she was hit. She bled out slowly. The recording has her screams, her begs for someone to kill her. Nobody did. Sometimes I would find Mom on the kitchen floor, carving her legs."

I winced.

"Sorry. She was in a lot of pain. She's not in pain now."

"Dad is."

"Yeah."

"I look just like her," I move my head to rest in my folded hands. "He has a hard time with it. I see the way he looks at me."

She leans back and doesn't deny it. But we know. With every sway to the rhythm of the ocean, every soft lullaby in the pitch black of our home, every breakdown.. every unraveling.

"I wish Mom fixed it rather than handing it to me. It feels like some sick generational curse."

"Maybe it is."

"Maybe. When we were little, I always loved how Nana would pinch me, telling me that I was their own piece of District 7 in District 4. They seemed so proud that we represented our parents, that you represented a piece of Dad and I represented a piece of Mom" The last part came out dirtier than intended. Kaia holds her tongue.

"Then she took a kitchen knife and carved herself to pieces in disgust with herself. So now here I am, wondering what this means for me, the identical copy of mom, when mom hated every piece of herself."

"Funny how that turned out. I'm the embodiment of a drunken abuser, you of a self-destructive lunatic."

We laugh and let that be.

The sound of the ocean surged forth, filling the gaps in conversation with its ceaseless rhythm.

The boat swayed softly - offering a small amount of solace. The wind whips through my hair, occasionally blurring my vision. I silently ask if it would be too much to go out this peacefully.

My feet dip into the water, soothing the burn beginning to develop. I wonder if they'll try to make it interesting this year - purposefully rig the drawing to someone in particular or force the names of a victor's family. There's a lot of them, now. My skin seems to burn in response, as if the sea begins to whisper a silent reprimand. It's not as though they'll ever admit to it. That likely wouldn't happen this year, or maybe it would, but nobody from District Four has made it past the Cornucopia since Finnick Odair.

A 14 year old is considered a child in the games, the Capitol's show that they can brutally murder the youngest of our children without resistance. A sharp stab collects in my chest as I recall his games, he was too young to understand that type of pain. It was my second year of eligibility, I was only a year younger than him. That moment developed my fear, as though if a boy from the class above me can be subject to that brutality, than so can I.

But he won, and he survived, though surely benefiting from the help of a wealthy family's training capabilities and hailing from a Career district. He continued this luxurious life, if you don't believe in the rumors, that is. Whispers between the women of our district, spoken behind closed doors of how the Capitol sells him off in return for his defiance. The defiance of refusing an agonizing death for show.

Everyone praises him when he comes home, lines up the street on the Victor's Village with gifts. I think some of them are pining for those rumors to be true. It's silly, watching girls line up stuffed manatees to the home of a man who comes home with sunken eyes and hollow cheeks. He tries to hide it, but when you live in a cycle of exhaustion, you learn to recognize those who do too. 

#the hunger games #finnick odair #annie cresta #finnick x annie #thg series #thg #thg fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #thg finnick #annie x finnick #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #johanna mason #finnick imagine #hunger games finnick #mockingjay #catching fire

[jedi-lothwolf]

AI-less Whumptober Day 13: Bloody Knuckles (Alt Prompt 1 )

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Waring: violents

Summary: After Adrien detransforms, he is pulled from his hiding place and has to fight the villain out of costume.

  Adrien wasn't sure what to do when he turned the corner and detransformed. He tried to hide at first, telling Plagg to get some cheese from his jacket as he planned what to do next. He slid into a classroom and dove under some chairs.

    "Cat Noir!" A singsong voice teased.

    "Fuck" he whispered. "Plagg hurry please."

    "There's no cheese!" He whispered harshly.

    "Go find something. Meet me back here." As Plagg snuck off, Adrien brought him knees in further.

    Sound Steeler was mad at the world. After being in a car crash, she was informed that her hearing would never be the same. An injury near her ear made even loud noises sound like whispers. Now as she stole others hearing, she could hear everything. She wouldn't stop until she found the man who did this to her.

    The sound of Adrien's breathing was too loud. Sound Steeler grabbed him from under the chairs. She threw him across the room and into the wall. It hurt more than he remembered.

    "Look, a straggler!" She screamed. Without another word and without reason, the villain attacked.

    Adrien moved from his place against the wall just in time. He grabbed a chair and hurled it at her. "Hey! What did I do?"

    "Nothing! Isn't it funny how that happens?!" Adrien ducked under a table and went to the other side. As Sound Steeler went to get him from the side he entered, the hero grabbed a metal water bottle and slammed into her head. She looked up and scowled. "You little bitch!" 

   Then she grabbed him. Adrien didn't want to hurt anyone. As Cat Noir he could avoid having to fight. But out of his costume it was too dangerous.

    The next thing he knew he was standing up. He had pulled the akuma off of her belt and was standing there. Adrien hid under a table as Plagg flew back in the room to transform.

    "Are you okay?" He asked the girl. She looked to be maybe sixteen.

    She stood up. "what?"

    Cat Noir nodded his head and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from the destroyed room. "Are you okay?"

    "Yeah."

    "Cataclysm." Cat Noir reached and destroyed the butterfly. "Let's get you home." He wrote.

    "I'm sorry" She almost yelled. Adrien just smiled. He took her home before returning to his school. The classroom was still destroyed.

    "Hey Adrien!" Nino yelled. "That was crazy!" He looked down. "What happened?"

    Adrien looked down. "Oh. Ummm." Blood fell from his fingers. Not much but it still stood out on the floor. His knuckles were torn and he realized just how much his hands hurt. He wanted to slam his hands behind him but instead he just stood there.

    The boy started to shake. How long had it been? Did anyone else see? He wondered why Ladybug hadn't showed up and began to panic as he remembered he would have to explain to his father why his hands had been so messed up.

    "You okay?" Nino started to get more concerned. "Here, come with me. Let's get away from the crowd." Before Adrien could disagree, Nino was leading him away.

    They entered the boiler room. Nino looked at Adrien. "Okay, so what happened?"

    "How do I explain this to my father?"

    "I think that's the wrong thing to be upset over."

    As Adrien brought his hands up to his chest, be stared at them. This had never happened before. He looked at the blood and the tares in his skin. He moved his fingers and hissed before looking back at Nino. "I'm never going to be allowed out of the house again."

    Tears went to Adrien's eyes. Everything at once hit him. Here he was, standing in front of his best friend in a room they shouldn't even be in, hands tattered because he had beat the shit out of the victim who attacked him, and the thing he was scared of the most was his father.

    Nino sat down and motioned for Adrien to do the same. He did. "Bro, what happened?"

    "The akuma" he started. He took his hands into lap and rested them there. "I had gotten stuck in the classroom that got destroyed. When I heard Sound Stealer coming I dove under some chairs.

    Adrien stopped to breathe. "She pulled me from under the chairs and, my back hurts. Actually everything hurts." He leaned into Nino.  "I had to do something. She was gonna kill me. When I broke the akumatised object she wasn't hurt."

    "Yo where the hell was Cat Noir and Ladybug?" Nino raised his voice.

    "Ladybug wasn't at the fight and Cat Noir ran out of time."

    "I'm gonna sneak into the nurse's office and see if I can get you some bandages and disinfectant. I'll be right back." Nino stood up and headed out the door.

    Adrien sat there. "You good kid?" Plagg asked.

    "What took you so long?"

    "There was nothing to eat nearby!" The kwami swore.

    "It's fine." Nino returned.

    "Okay so I don't know what I'm doing." He took out his phone and looked up what to do. He put some disinfectant on each cut and wrapped his hand gently. "Just tell your father the truth. Or actually that's one of the worst ideas I've ever had. Let's find you some gloves."

    "Okay." They looked around the school until they came to the conclusion that they would have to buy some.

    "I'll sneak into your house and give them to you. Sound good?"

    "Nino, I don't think you should come in." Adrien pulled off his backpack and handed him a folder. "Here, just say I forgot it."

    Nino took the folder, "sneaky, I like it."

    Later that day, Nino brought Adrien his folder. When Adrien looked inside, a pair of black fingerless gloves rested in it with a note. "I thought these would be less inconspicuous. Love ya bro and good luck!" Adrien smiled. At Least now he didn't have to worry about his father. Didn't stop his hands from hurting though. 

#miraculous ladybug #bloody knuckles #violents #adrien agreste #adrien agrest whump #cat noir whump #cat noir #nino lahiffe #nino #mlb #ai less whumptober

[winderlylandchime]

The man is back and better than ever (well kinda but whatever). So here I come with 2x08 and 2x09 but tumblr sucks so this is 1/2, anyway. He got into the house took his pills, immediately went out on a smoke and screamed to me ‘he was right! Who the fuck made that rule about smoking in hospitals?!’ Came back and said ‘cmon loser!’ He silently groaned for 5 minutes until the locker room scene and yelled ‘BRIAN YOU BEAUTIFUL BASTARD, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I MISSED YOU!’ He is now watching Mikey and Ben and goes ‘*loud groan* for the love of Beyoncé, please tell me this dude isn’t THIS boring the whole time? If his whole thing is Buddha and HIV, i am gonna hate it here’ cut to the club scene ‘JUSTIN YOU BEAUTIFUL RASCAL! I MISSED YOU SO MUCH! of course my boy can spot a rolex the second he sees it! Attaboy!’…’OH BEN IN A CLUB? Maybe he isn’t boring! *ben takes his shirt off* what a whore, i like it *raises his soda as a cheers*’ and now the introduction scene happened and he almost had a stroke ‘Well of course he’s positive, he studied Buddha and all that crap. And you just complimented him so obviously he’s happy, why are you so bitc- *pauses the ep and is silent for a sec* YOU MOTHERFUCKER YOU MEAN POSITIVE AS IN HIV?! HOW DOES THAT AFFECT ANYTHING YOU FUCKI- AND WHY IS THAT ANY OF YOUR BUSINESS TO TALK YOU LITTLE DWEEB!…*looks at the paused tv*…Justin looks really good in that jersey’ ‘okay Mel is funny sometimes..but dude we don’t throw food on the ground..damn it, i like her at times but she’s so bitchy sometimes but the feminist in me is saying she has the right for it but like she’s just so *blows a raspberry* at times’ and we are now at the diner scene and he is STRESSED! This man is ready to fight ‘Ted..dude, shush. I get it, the year is 2001..2?3? Wait is this before the towers? Whatever, the year is early and you are scared but listen to me *snaps his fingers at paused ted on screen* i am from the future and we are alright! I mean most of us..some of us…okay so like a group of us are good..you know what? The world sucks but like we’re dealing with it, there’s always a tomorrow, now calm the fuck down bc you are stressing me out…plus doesn’t vic have hiv? Someone call Deb to smack ted bc i am only one man’ And now Deb is up and im not prepared for whats going to happen, it’s like witnessing a train crash ‘exactly Deb! Tell him he has a shitty attitude, smack him for me please. tell them Deb! why does she look like she just ate dog shit? Well i mean it is a lot to hear since its like 200early’ oh sweet summer child. I will say he was pleasantly surprised that Brian was silent and not assholey. ‘Who the fuck has clowns in their home? Deb this is weird even for you. Why can’t she talk to Vic? *pauses the ep* vic my boy, I’ll talk to you. These bitches *holds up the dvd with the cast on it* have me stressed out of my fucking mind. Anyway continue, man’ i would like everyone to know at this point i am holding my breath preparing for the crash.

WELCOME BACK DEAR SWEET ANON AND BROTHER ANON! You’ve been missed.

Literally loling from the start about Brian being right about smoking and hospitals. (Someone should tell Brian and your brother about oxygen tanks)

I love how he sees how BORING Ben is but definitely is protective of Ted’s shitty moment of disclosing his serostatus and warning Michael off of him. And then the total letdown with “Doesn’t Vic have HIV?” and “who the fuck has clowns in their home?” OUR MAN HAS A VERY GOOD POINT.

And yes… the crash. Let’s get to that…

#ask winderlylandchime #dear sweet anon #queer as folk #a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023

[bananaapplewaffle]

A Twisted Halloween II: Spectral Soiree: Book 1 and Book 2

Let’s go!

Book 1: Endless Night

He really said go to sleep now because you WILL be cleaning

Who didn’t have any fun at all

WAIT THEY GOT DEUCE

Oh thank god

Damn all the freshmen from Pomefiore Dorm

Shout out to the game crashing

Rook…sigh

Damn Lilia and Malleus gone too

But…

Powerful spell casted over the entire school

I hate where the Headmage’s office is

Damn…ain’t nobody worried about me and Grim?

Hit’em with the “Time stop!”

Damn that was random as fuck but smart as hell

AAAAA

ACE CARES ABOUT US

You definitely forget about us, Crowley

I wonder what Lilia’s scream sounded like

WE FUCKING MISSING BITCH

RIDDLE IS PISSED

GIRL WHAT HAPPENED WITH THE MIRROR

Mirror Machine broke…

Not even surprised that that’s what he’s worried about

Fuck it, gon head

Every fucking time

They don’t want to do shit

OH?

TODAY THEY WANNA DO SHIT???

MAN FUCK OUTTA HERE

Halloween Party bitches!

GIRL LESSON BLOCKED

BRB GOTTA TAKE 10 MORE LESSONS

Who?

Ah, Crewel

Leona and Jamil my beloveds

I love how these two didn’t pose

Just crossed arms and hands on hips

And standing there

?????????

VARGAS WHAT THE HELL

Ion what my dog was just dreaming about but she sure was thumping her tail on the floor

TITLE SCREEN

WHERE THE FUCK

Who or whatever did this recreated the stamp locations but made them real

Which means…we might be at the “castle” being “protected” by the “dragon

Book 2: Scattered Flight

Not Riddle using the Hallowenders name…

EVEN ORTHO IS TIRED OF IT

WELL

GAVE US IT FOR WHAT

TO NOT WORK

TRASH

Riddle you literally entered this place through the Dark Mirror

There’s got to be some magic energy here

Ruggie you gotta visit my house more

THE GHOST SCARED RIDDLE

RIDDLE’S SCREAM SCARED RUGGIE

Man what the fuck is going on here

What do y’all mean by the Spectral Realm

THEY GOT RUGGIE

HIS BIGGEST WEAKNESS

SPARKLY SHIT

WHAT IS IT

GIRL WE JUMPED TO ANOTHER BUBBLE

Ooooo

Sebek, loud and worried

Rook, on that shit

Trey, ready to go home

I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS SHIT

THE FUCK REALM OF DARKNESS

Can’t believe you’d say that shit to a kh hoe like me

THIRTEEN??????

Everyone move this is for the kh hoes ONLY

Rook is just on his shit

How the hell did Silver figure it out that quick

LILIA HAS BEEN HERE BEFORE???

Silver is simply at the wrong school

42? Does that mean there’s a set amount

Like 50?

Either way, I’m already tired

And Leona was even quicker and even more nonchalant

These mfkers started fighting real quick

I love Ace

“WAIT THIS LOOKS LIKE THE ONE FROM RAMSHACKLE! WHERE’S THE PERFECT AND GRIM??”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

THESE MFKERS

LEONA AND FLOYD MY BELOVEDS

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

HE FUCKING GOT ACE

HE’S FUCKING POSSESSED

Ace I’m so sorry bestie

He’s back!

Leona and his fucking brains are showing again

Little tidbit

Ortho please don’t try to tie Leona’s tail again…

Twisted Ramblings

#waffle plays #waffle plays twst #a twisted halloween