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ninyard · 12 days

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I just saw a post wondering what Andrew and Neil’s first proper argument is, and naturally I have to offer this:

Andrew and Neil don’t fight. They’ll ignore each other if they’re pissed off - but never for more than a few hours, or maybe until one of them has slept it off and decide it’s not worth it (usually Andrew). They’ll have tiffs but never over anything serious.

Except for in the months coming up to Andrew’s graduation. That is when I believe Andrew and Neil have their first real argument.

Andrew gets officially signed to his pro team around abouts the February of that year. It’s in a state further away that Neil expected, and since they found out, Neil keeps catching Andrew looking at apartments or researching the state and the team. He’s happy for him, of course he is, but he can’t quite identify what this feeling in his stomach is every time Andrew brings it up. The little fights that last longer than their usually bickering start not long after; Neil getting more pissed off by the little things Andrew does, Andrew having off-days with Neil more and more often, each of them asking for their own space because they know if they stay around each other they’re going to start a fight. It’s gradual in a way that they don’t realise for a little while that it’s getting worse, until just after the championship finals, and the season is officially over, when three days have passed without them talking for not much of a reason at all. Neil used his finals as an excuse, but Andrew didn’t have any good reason. After those three days, they’re finally alone in their dorm for whatever reason, and maybe Andrew has started packing or he’s just got some sort of welcome package from the team: everything explodes. Andrew tries to kiss Neil, and something feels wrong, and when Neil asks what the fuck is going on, all hell breaks loose.

Andrew doesn’t yell, of course he doesn’t, but he’s venomous. He’s asking Neil why he’s acting as if the world is going to end just because he’s graduating, he’s angry at him for becoming so dependent on his presence, he’s angry at himself for feeling like he’s found a future in Neil when this was never the plan. He was supposed to be nothing. A casual fuck, with an end date and no feelings but fuck if he can’t live his life without him now. Neil yells, because he does, and he’s angry that Andrew still seems so unsure about what they are, how comfortable they were, but suddenly things are different, and it feels like he doesn’t care. He’s angry at himself for building his life around Andrew, but he’s the only reason why Neil Josten exists. Andrew reminds him of that, and it makes everything worse.

It goes on for far too long, quickly becoming meaningless and just an excuse for either of them to vent out the frustration they’ve been keeping inside for months.

“You know that I won’t overstep your boundaries,” Neil points a finger at him. “So in your head it’s okay to treat me like shit and ignore me because you know that I will give you that space.”

He doesn’t even really think that, but every little thing, every little excuse is multiplied by a thousand when he feels this red hot rage. He hates the things that come out of his mouth, but Andrew gives it back, and his insistent refusal to back down just further butts their heads together and infuriates them both.

“I won’t chase after you because you’ve decided to allow me distance,” Andrew says, calm and ice cold. “You can’t invent boundaries for me and then be upset that they exist.”

Lows blows after low blows, unfair quips and insults from both sides, slamming of drawers and doors and throwing of things; they have never, ever fought like this before. It’s over everything and nothing at the same time. Andrew knew it was only a matter of time before campus security was called, but when he tried to tell Neil to calm down and lower his voice, it only made things worse.

They’ve been unkind and awful with each other for about an hour when Neil finds himself starting to get so furiously angry thats he’s upset, that he can feel himself being needlessly nasty with Andrew. For the first time ever he feels the tilt. He feels their foundations getting rocked, a crack in the base of the pyramid of their relationship that gives him the feeling that this might not last forever. He leaves their dorm with a slam of the door, and goes for a run. He hasn’t done that in a while, a run from his feelings, running from his problems and responsibilities. He’s not sure how long it’s been before he finds himself too far away from campus, because he just ran in a straight line.

When he checks his phone he realises he’s over an hour walk away from their dorms. He almost calls Matt, and hesitates over Coach’s phone number, but instead he clicks Andrew’s name. It’s only ringing for two rings before the ringing ends and there’s a quiet hiss at the other end of the line. Neil double checks that he’s answered, because Andrew hasn’t said anything, and brings the phone back to his ear.

“Can you come pick me up?” His breathing is heavy, all of his anger drained out through his feet with every single step that he took to get further away from their dorm.

“Where are you?” Andrew is quick to respond, and Neil can hear him already picking up his keys.

Neil tells him the name of some bar that he can see, and Andrew hangs up almost instantly afterwards. Neil starts to put his phone away, used to the abrupt endings of phone calls, but wishing he would say something more. He puts his phone away and wonders why Andrew can’t just give him something. He’s not looking for a Love you! Bye! But maybe just an answer that let him know he was listening. but then it starts to ring again, and it’s Andrew, and Neil doesn’t say anything when he answers.

“I’m leaving now,” Andrew says. There’s something in his voice. “I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”

“Okay,” Neil responds. “Thank you.”

Andrew hums in acknowledgment, but this time he doesn’t hang up immediately. He hesitates, but he’s somewhere outside now.

“I will always pick you up.” He says after a while, after he’s shut his car door and the engine has rumbled to life, and maybe it sounds like I love you, I care about you, I need you. Maybe it sounds like I need you to know that i can’t lose this.

“I know,” Neil says, and it sounds like I can’t do this without you. “Thank you.”

Andrew waits a second or two then before hanging up, and Neil waits for him by the curb. Andrew is there quicker than twenty minutes later. Neither of them say anything as Neil slips into the passenger seat, and neither of them say anything as they pull away. Neither of them say anything until Andrew has switched the engine off, and the car is sitting in its parking spot. They look at each other then, and maybe then they understand what’s happening.

“I’m not above telling you that I don’t want to leave here,” leave you. “But this was always a certainty. You’ve had plenty of time to prepare.”

“I thought that I had,” Neil tells him.

It’s the truth, in some way. He realises then that all of these little fights, and growing agitation, and this almost primal urge to push Andrew away was how he’d prepared. He’s been trying his hardest to soften the blow that it would have on him, and if he pushed him away first, then it wouldn’t hurt when he inevitably pushed him back or let him go. Only, that was never going to happen, and that’s what made it worse - nothing could happen to them now that would not bring them back to each other. So when Neil pushed and pushed and pushed and Andrew was constantly hitting a wall instead of a door, all they were doing was filling the room with resentment.

They sit in the car then and talk about the reality: Andrew was moving away in just a few weeks, moving further away than they’d ever been apart. The truth was that regardless of whether or not Neil decides to spend the summer with him, August would come, and Neil would go back to PSU, and Andrew would stay wherever it was that he was staying. They’d been fighting more in a subconscious test with each other, to see if one of them were going to give up, to see it this was the thing that would finally tear them apart. They talk about that, too, as difficult as it is for Andrew to be honest about that kind of thing. Neil asks him if he thinks it would be better for them to break up, to give each other space, to let Andrew flourish on his new team and meet new people and grow into himself as a professional exy player. It’s the first time either of them have acknowledged the possibility out loud with each other, and it destroys Neil to ask it, and it destroys Andrew to hear it.

Andrew thinks about how Exy was supposed to be the deal with Kevin: how he was supposed to come off his meds, and Kevin would give him purpose, and he would find something to live for in the sport that would not love him back. Instead he gave him Neil. That was his something to live for, and while he’d started to learn how to live for himself, and he would eventually survive without him, he didn’t want to. He couldn’t. He would sooner give it all up just to keep him, and Neil knew that was the truth.

Neil thinks about how Neil was supposed to be temporary. Now it was the future, it was Andrew, it was a long and successful life. Neil Josten did not have an expiry date anymore. He could have things that were his own, things to keep, things to live for.

They knew it wouldn’t be easy, but as the evening went on, and they stay in that car and talk about the future, they’d truly come to the understanding that neither of them can lose each other. They will always be half of one another, and no amount of distance can change that. It’s hard conversation after hard conversation, and it’s emotional in the way that Andrew and Neil get emotional. All the fighting ends up being a catalyst for possibly the most personal, deep, intimate discussion they’ve ever had. There’s lots of silences and voices that threaten to raise but stay low. There’s a lot of questions, and answers, and questions without answers, too. Buts it’s needed. Andrew could not leave PSU without them having this conversation. If he had, I think they would’ve struggled a whole lot more with the distance, and the conversations they would have afterwards would’ve been far more difficult.

Ultimately that’s where they end the conversation sometime past midnight - with a semi newfound understanding of where they stand with each other, what they are, what the future means for them. It’s a fight that needed to happen, and in their own ways they apologise for the things that they said. Maybe they don’t say sorry, they just say everything is going to be okay, and distance will not be the thing that ruins this.

I don’t know. I really do think it’s a fight that’s needs to happen. I think it’s a terrible, angry, nasty argument, and they both feel awful about the things they said and did, but it had to happen. Yeah, could it have been communicated with words? Sure. But Andrew had to understand how afraid Neil was of losing him, he had to understand what Neil was doing to protect himself from it. And Neil had to understand that Andrew was always, always willing to fight for him, but he couldn’t do that if Neil wasn’t willing to see that he would.

#maybe they don’t ever fight #but if they did #if they had one break up worthy argument #I think this would be it #idk!!!!!#again clearing out the drafts #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #aftg #all for the game #mine

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a-hazbin-reader · 4 months

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how about a reader who's been feeling pretty overworked recently?and just needs to rest but is to stubborn to Al does something about it?

Now it's Alastor's turn to pamper~

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: None I think??

Description: ☝️⬆️

You've been going nonstop all week and it's been taking it's toll on you physically and mentally

There's so much that needs done and you're only one person, you don't have time to sit and relax

Which means you're unintentionally taking time with you away from Alastor

Not his ears drooping and folding back when he realizes you're going to turn him down

"I'm so sorry, Alastor, I'm just too tired to go out and I really need to finish this."

"Y/N, it's our date night and I insist that you-"

"I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you later, I promise."

But you pass out and Alastor has to carry you to bed, hating that you're so overworked right now, that you have no time to spare for him

Which in his deer brain, means that you're neglecting him because you're so fried from work

And that means he's gotta fix this

But you're stubbon and won't relax willingly so he's got to get creative

"Darling, won't you take this bubble bath with me? I need help getting my back~"

🥵🥵 s-sure

He takes special care to massage and scrub every part of you until you're a gooey mess in his hands

Despite his claws, he can be surprisingly gentle, it's rather soothing to feel them ghosting over your skin

It's not until later when your back is against his chest and he's kissing your shoulder that you realize he's been spoiling you the entire time

Literally carries you to bed bridal style and dries your body with a loving reverence that makes you blush

"Alastor, I can do this myself-"

"Hush now, let me do this for you..."

Rubs fancy lotions and creams into your skin, massaging until you inevitably fall asleep under his care

Nobody is allowed to wake you or bother you at all for the time being, he'll make sure of it

He finds excuses to interrupt you during your work, forcing you to take breaks

"Darling, I accidentally made too much jambalaya! So I thought I might bring you some as I am quite sure you haven't eaten today~"

"Alastor, I don't have time to-that smells really good..."

It's so good you could cry, devouring the entire thing while he stays and has lunch with you, turning it into a mini date

You didn't even realize how tense were before Alastor showed up, feeling full and relaxed after he gives you a parting kiss

You really don't want him to go, watching him leave with a longing expression

Not him purposefully stealing something you need so that you have no choice but to seek him out

"Have you seen my folder? I can't get back to work without it!"

"Hm? I can't say that I have, but have you seen what a beautiful day it is outside? Why not just skip work today, and we'll take a stroll through Cannibal Town?"

Won't take no for an answer, already looping his arm with yours and marching you outside

It is actually a beautiful day outside

Takes you to all your old haunts and spends all day buying anything you even look at

It feels good to catch up with Rosie and some of your old friends, not having realized how long it's been since you've seen them

He also takes you out dancing, which leaves you tired and sore, but in the best way possible, he was always exciting to dance with

Will carry you home if he has to, will actually find an excuse to do so

"Do your feet hurt? Here, let me carry you~"

You pass out before he puts the blanket over you, soothed by his scent on your pillow

It's not until later when you wake up to him putting your folder back in your bag that you realize what he's been up to

"Alastor..?"

Oh fuck he's been caught

"Darling! I was just-cleaning off your bag and-"

"...just shut up and come back to bed..."

Literally climbs right on top of you and flops on you like he's your own personal weighted blanket

Kissing your neck and shoulders before whispering into your ear with a slightly guilty voice

"Are you angry with me?"

"Mm...not if you keep giving me attention like this..."

Well, he wouldn't want his darling Y/N to start getting angry with him now, would he?

The next day you feel more renewed and refreshed than you have in weeks, waking up tangled in Alastor's arms

You chuckle softly and push some of his hair out of his (totally not pretending) sleeping face, admiring his handsome features

He's a sneaky man who tricks you into relaxing and taking time for yourself because he loves you

And you love him all the more for it

This one was too cute! I hope you like it

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

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starkwlkr · 3 months

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Could you do fic for Mark Webber with wife reader? (He's Oscar's manager) And they both acted like dad & mom toward Lando and Oscar, especially. Just them spending time together and worries for the boys whenever something goes wrong. Mark does his best to comfort her. Just something fluff and cute. Maybe a little surprise for Mark at the end. I'll let you decide what it was. Tag me later!! Thanks!! :))

work parents | mark webber

thanks for the request!! @pear-1206

When you and Mark were dating, you supported him throughout his career in F1. Now that you were married and had a teenage daughter, you were supporting another person in F1, Oscar. He was young, talented and skilled. You were sure that in a couple of years he would be world champion. You tried to attend as many races as you could, mostly during the summer since your and Mark’s daughter was out of school. Your daughter was studying in Harvard at the moment meaning you and Mark haven’t seen her since spring break. She had secretly made plans to surprise you and Mark at the race. Oscar was the one that had gotten her a paddock pass.

It was Oscar’s first home race so you knew you had to attend. It was going to be a special one after all. You got up early to start getting ready while Mark was getting a few extra minutes of sleep.

Mark still asleep shirtless. He looked so peaceful that you didn’t want to bother him considering he arrived home late the night before, but you had a tight schedule to follow. You walked to the bed and gently placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Mark, you have to get up, honey. Oscar might already be waiting for us at the track. It’s race day.”

“Give me five minutes.” He mumbled.

“I’ll let you do anything when we get back—” You couldn’t even finish since Mark had gotten immediately.

“We wouldn’t want to keep Oscar waiting, hurry up, love.” He tried to give you a morning kiss but you stopped him. “What? Don’t act like you care about morning breath now.”

“I already put on lipstick—”

“And you can put it on again. I want to kiss my wife.” You rolled your eyes, but gave in.

As Mark got ready, you made sure you had your paddock passes. Eventually you made it out of the house and now you were on your way to the circuit. Mark had his hand on your thigh while the other was on the steering wheel. When you made it to the paddock entrance, Oscar was waiting with his girlfriend Lily.

“Hi, I hope we didn’t keep you waiting for too long.” You said as you exited the car. “Lily, so great to see you again.” You greeted the girl.

“Hi Mrs. Webber, great to see you too.” Lily replied.

The group of four made their way into paddock, greeting fans and photographers. Mark held your hand making you remember the times when you were still dating and Mark was still racing. You followed Mark and Oscar to the Mclaren garage since Lily had excused herself to go to the Mclaren motorhome. It felt nice to be back.

“Mrs. Webber!” Lando greeted you as soon as he saw you. “Lovely to see you as always.”

“Hi Lando.” You hugged the Brit.

“No mini Webber today?” He asked when he noticed your daughter wasn’t with you.

“No, she’s in Massachusetts. She sends luck to both of you though.” Mark responded.

Oscar wasn’t one to spill secrets, but when he knew something that he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, he would act nervous. He absolutely hated it.

“She is? Nice, right? Who would’ve thought that mini Webber would go to Harvard!” Lando and Oscar were both called by Zak so they excused themselves from the couple.

“Okay . . .” You brushed it off as him being nervous about the race. You scooted closer to Mark. “First home race must be getting to him.” You whispered.

“I’ll take care of him, love.”

“Don’t forget about Lando.”

The 2023 Australian Grand Prix was one big chaotic mess and you were there to witness it. It felt like a rollercoaster of emotions when the race was restarted again. After three red flags and 58 laps, Max had won.

“P8 for Oscar, what a race.” Mark said, sitting beside you. “You can let go of my hand now, honey, race is over.” He gestured to your hand that tightly held his. He couldn’t remember what lap you decided to hold it, but he didn’t mind.

“Thank fuck. I thought I was going to have a heart attack or something.” You let go. “I just wish my baby girl was here.”

“She’ll be home soon. Summer is just around the corner and then we’ll have a moody teen girl with a coffee addiction in our house. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

When Oscar got back to the garage, you and Mark were there to celebrate his points. “You did so well! Good job, Osc!” You hugged the driver.

“Thank you, Mrs. Webber.” Oscar smiled.

“Oh! Where’s Lando? Was it P6 or 7? Who cares? Points for the Mclaren boys!” You cheered as you left to go find Lando. Lando’s race engineer had told you that the driver was in his driver’s room so you walked to the room in search of the Brit.

As you were about to knock on the door, Lando and your daughter came out. Talk about perfect timing. . .

“Mum . . Hi.” Your daughter laughed nervously.

“Listen, I love you to death but what are you doing here? You should be in Boston!” You scolded the girl.

“This sounds like a family matter so I’m just going to go.” Lando tried to leave it you stepped in front of him. “Hi Mrs. Webber.” He innocently said.

“Good job on getting points.” You sighed and gave him a hug. “Now care to explain?”

“It was her idea! I am the true victim here!”

“You jerk!”

“Okay! Stop it.” You raised your voice. “Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

“I wanted to surprise you and dad by coming here and Lando and Oscar were helping me so I hid here. I’m only here for a couple days . . I missed you guys.” She explained.

“Yeah, what she said.” Lando added.

“We missed you too. I am definitely surprised and dad will be too. Come on, we have to celebrate the Mclaren boys scoring points!” You grabbed your daughters hand and walked together to meet up with Mark and Oscar.

Lando stayed behind a bit confused. “You’re not mad at me, right Mrs. Webber?”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #mark webber x reader #mark webber imagine #mark webber fanfic #mark webber #mark webber one shot

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clownd1ck · 3 months

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trouble, j. miller | chapter one

mob!joel miller x fem!reader

chapter summary: after getting fired from your job at the bookstore, your grandparents introduce you to the man who’s been helping them out for awhile: joel miller. now, it’s his turn to help you.

chapter warnings: reader swears and has dry humour (she’s a bit of me x), mentions of vip’s getting touchy but it’s hypothetical if that makes sense?? reader calls her grandparents ‘pops’ and ‘nonna’, no beta cause i cba, blah blah blah that’s it

also no hate to anyone who reads romance/physical smut books, the hate is simply towards minors who read them & their parents for allowing them LOL

word count: 2518

(series masterlist)

you really don’t know how much longer you can do this.

you’re six hours into your ten hour shift. you’re bored, you haven’t had your lunch break, and your phone is charging behind the desk where you were watching criminal minds before two teenage girls walked into the bookstore.

you’ve watched them for the past twenty minutes. they practically ran to the romance section, picking up books and flicking to certain pages you know had the most pornographic scenes in them before they’d giggle amongst themselves and add it to the pile they were building.

can teenage girls even afford this many books? you had been working since you were sixteen, and you’d barely get enough money to buy yourself two books whilst the rest would be stored away for college. and is this what people were reading nowadays? a male character that exudes toxic masculine standards whilst the author plays into the whole “innocent, virginal” female character who hadn’t the slightest clue about sex or life? is this what parents were allowing their children to-

“we want these books.” a demanding voice speaks to you, and you almost have to do a double take when you see the two teenage girls stood before you at the counter. god, you couldn’t even rely on the younger generation to be polite these days, especially not when one of them is judging you for your oversized hoodie and sweats and the crocs that sit on your feet.

“of course.” you force a smile, biting back on the insults you wish to hurl upon them. but, your boss is in the back. probably doing jackshit like she usually does, leaving you to work your ass off without any breaks.

the scanner scans the barcode on the back of every book before placing them in two bags. dante’s nine circles of hell sounds more appealing than this. you might just grab one of the books and hit yourself with it, hoping you hit so hard you might pass out and get to leave early. not like your boss would allow it, but the thought of having a hot shower and slipping into bed sounded nice.

“and your total is $194.68, is that going to be cash or card?” you rest your hands on the counter, looking at the two girls. one of them whips out a card, so black and matte you almost feel the courage to ask her if: it’s her fathers, and if so, is he single?

you hand her the card machine where she taps the card, and once the payment is deemed successful, one of the girls takes the bag, looks into it and frowns. “these aren’t in the right order.”

“excuse me?”

“the books aren’t in the right order.”

there’s a right order to put books in. none of them were even a series, and even then, does it really matter if your fucking fairy porn trilogy is separated?

“did you ask for them in a certain order?”

the girl gives you a look. “no?”

“so then why would i know what order to put them in?” you’re so done. you’re so fucking done, mentally, physically, and in the eyes of your boss, as well. the girls look at you, mouths agape, probably because they didn’t think they’d be spoken to this way, but you always said that the second a customer is rude to you, you’re being rude back.

the duo scowl at you as they leave the store, muttering insults under their breaths like it was a middle school friendship break up. you sigh, going to turn around to grab your phone when you jump back, spotting your boss leant against the wall.

“you’re fired.” she states.

“yes!” you fist pump the air sarcastically, grabbing your stuff and practically racing out the store. you didn’t even care if you were supposed to wait until the end of your shift to fully leave your job. you were hungry, tired, and your pops and nonna had told you that pops’ infamous burgers would be made for dinner and you were eager.

on your walk home, you listen to your music. it was relatively dark outside, and ideally, as a woman, you shouldn’t be wearing headphones in the dark. but you had always been more frightened by the noises you could hear rather than the ones you couldn’t.

you step into your home, taking your shoes off by the door and walk into the kitchen. you stop at the sight. your pops and nonna were stood in the kitchen talking to a man you have never seen before and you’re almost offended that your grandparents hadn’t allowed you to meet him because jesus christ and all things holy, that man is beautiful.

he’s tall. scarily tall, actually. and not to say you have a thing for muscular men but you would not mind letting this stranger throw you about. he leans on the kitchen counter, arms folded across his chest as he eyes you up.

“he. who is he?” you point to the man, looking at your grandparents.

your nonna tuts your name. “he is joel miller, helps us out where we need it. why are you home so early, sugar, i thought you had a ten hour shift today?” nonna embraces you, kissing your cheek as she taps your arm, signaling for you to sit down at the kitchen table.

a faux laugh escapes you. “heh, well, you see-”

“don’t tell me that damn boss of yours ‘s been givin’ you a hard time again.” your pops speaks up this time, interrupting you this time. your pops was a scary man. he used to be involved in a lot of shit back in the day, constantly being chased down streets and alleyways by the police, always having them on his doorstep which would cause his mother to scold him. you can’t count the amount of times he’s threatened to come down and give your boss an earful on both hands.

“she actually fired me. apparently addressing one’s stupidity isn’t allowed. however, i am more focused on joel. joel, what is your purpose in this here house?” your head turns to look at the man as he addresses you, and he gives you a small smirk, walking over to the table and sitting across from you.

“she got a mouth on her, don’t she?” he asks your grandparents, and your nonna chuckles.

“always has. only started living with us when she was eighteen because of college, but she’s always had something to say.”

“something that’s gotta be shared with everyone.” your pops adds, and you give him a playful pout.

“right here guys, right here.” you announce. “back to the topic at hand. joel, why have you interrupted my pops’ burger night?” you’re facing each other now, your eyes analysing his face but all he does is smirk and since when was smirking so attractive on a man?

“well, your grandparents here mentioned how you hated your job, and i just so happen to have one that needs filled at one of my clubs.” his texan accent was prominent and full as he spoke, his brown eyes never leaving yours. “‘s if you want it, of course.”

“what club?”

“apocalypse.”

you slam your hands on the table with a wide grin. “i’m sold. when do i start?”

joel chuckles. “no questions about the pay, the shifts?”

you shake your head. “nope, don’t care. you know how hard that club is to get into?” you turn your head to look at your grandparents. “extremely fucking hard, i’ll tell you that right now. and i’ll get to work in there? god, life is so generous to me sometimes.” you exhale lightly, jokingly.

joel doesn’t stay for your pops’ burgers, but he’s given some to take home anyway. you decide to walk him to the door, being the ever so kind woman that you were, ready to see him off when he stops.

“ya’ start at five p.m. tomorrow, alright? i’ll have someone show you around, get you your uniform ‘nd all that before the club opens.”

nodding your head at joel, you bid him goodbye and watch as he makes his way to a sleek, black porsche, get in, and drive off.

____

“what do you mean you’re working for joel miller?” alicia asks you. alicia was the first friend you made at college after you chewed her ear off for the entirety of your first class. a girl who followed gothic fashion and was an absolute sweetheart compared to the people you’ve known in the past.

“i mean exactly what i said, babe. he’s apparently been looking after my grandparents for awhile and he offered me a job at apocalypse after that old bitch fired me.” you shrug, taking a bite of burger you got from dining hall.

“but joel miller is…he’s dangerous! everyone says his clubs are just money laundering schemes to hide his actual money.” naomi spoke up this time. ever the worrier, she was.

“money laundering would mean that no one was using his clubs and they were just there, naomi. the clubs are exclusive. i mean, we’ve all seen the lines to get in. we’ve been in those lines!” alicia somewhat comes to your defense even though you know she’s fully against you working there.

“my friend tina, the one from the political science class, worked there last year, and she says the pay is amazing!” a woman with black curls approaches your trio, another close friend of yours: georgia. “don’t get me wrong, she said some shady stuff happens in the v.i.p. lounge, but probably just guys gambling or something.”

you embrace georgia. “see, good pay and all i have to do is not ask questions. i’ll be fine, guys. and you,” you look at georgia “need to meet me at our cafe so you can tell me about that little masc lesbian of yours.”

you finish the rest of your burger, and pick up your bag. “gotta get home, but i’ll fill you all when i see you.”

you wave goodbye to your friends, walking out of the building as you scroll on your phone. when you get to the street, you bump into someone, about to apologise until you look up and gasp dramatically. “you! are you stalking me. god, joel, i didn’t know i was worth being stalked. that’s so flattering.”

joel scoffs, and opens the passenger door to his black porsche. “get in. ‘m gonna drive you down to the club.”

“don’t have to tell me twice.” you get into the passenger seat, placing your bag down in between your legs and joel closed your door. he rounds the front, getting in beside you and starts the car.

“ya’ hungry?” he asks, driving away from your college building.

“i ate just before i left. had a cheeseburger. not the most edible thing i’ve ever had, but it worked.”

“if you’re hungry when we get there, i’ll take ya’ down to the kitchen and grab you somethin’ there. house mom might have some snacks for ya’ too.”

brows furrowed, you turn to look at him. “the fuck is a house mom?”

“older woman who works with the dancers, takes care of ‘em in between dances. she’ll have snacks, spare outfits or shoes, hygiene products. helps ‘em all like a mom would.”

“nice.” you nod your head, and soon you’re in the private parking lot for the club. joel gets out first, rounding to your side and opening the door up for you. “gotta love a southern gentleman.” you snicker, walking into the club behind him.

he walks up a set of marbled stairs, heading to the second floor. “you’ll be working in the v.i.p. lounge, ‘s where all the dancers are and most of our staff.”

the second floor of the club is lit with red led lights, creating a sultry atmosphere. there are private rooms scattered all around, but there are booths scattered in the middle. joel walks you down to a hidden room and opens the door.

“this is my office. you can put your shit in here.” you walk in and place your bag down on the cushioned sofa, taking a seat beside your belongings. “i’m here when i’m not in the booths doing business, but if anything happens out there, ya’ come and find me, alright?”

you nod your head at him.

“all v.i.p’s know dancers and staff aren’t to be touched, but you gotta promise you’ll come find me if that rule is broken.” after promising, he continues. “i’ll take you down to adele and see if she’s got any spare uniform for you. she’ll walk you through anything else.”

joel guides you down the haul with a hand on your lower back, and if there was a camera following you, you would’ve hand an office moment with this simple touch.

“momma!” joel yells, knocking on a pink door.

the door opens, and an african-american woman opens it. she looks at joel, then you, and embraces you in a tight hug. “welcome, baby. this the new girl we’ve been hearing about?”

“yes ma’am!” you answer before joel can, shooting him a shit-eating grin.

joel speaks your name, and your eyes meet his. “go inside while i talk to adele, she’ll be back to help you in a minute.”

as you step inside the room, you’re met with an abundance of dancers. some are singing, doing their hair and make up, zipping up their heels, and others are lay on sat around eating some snacks.

“hi guys!” you wave at everyone, and they all squeal when they see you, immediately asking questions.

you answer them as best as you can until adele comes in. “now, i gotta get her some heels and her uniform, and when i come back-” adele glances around the room, pointing at an east asian woman with pin straight black hair. “lucy, do her make up, just so she knows what the standard is. your hair is fine, baby, don’t need anyone touching that.”

lucy smiles and waves at you, and you return it as adele leads you into the changing rooms. “uniforms are simple. black shorts, black long sleeve, and…what size shoe are you, baby?”

you respond, and she goes over to a rack of black, leather heeled boots. they’re platformed, shiny, and you know your feet are going to hurt the second your shift is done. “and these. i’ll let you get changed and you just come straight out when you’re done. help yourself to some snacks as well.”

“i don’t have to pay you for them?”

adele chuckles. “no, baby. joel gives me the money to buy the snacks. anything for you girls, joel pays for.” and with that, she leaves the room.

you sigh, looking at the mirror in front of you. this was a new job, with a hot boss, and from what you could tell, the rest of the girls in there were lovely.

this was your life now.

____

a/n: first chapter mother fuckers let’s GOOOOO

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sparklingblu · 19 days

Text

Atonement

Giselle x Male Reader

TW: blood, choking(not the hot kind), death, self harm, a lot of dark stuff

"Truth or Dare?"

"Truth"

"If you have the choice to fuck anyone in this room, who would it be?"

The moment these sinful word leaves Giselle's lips, you realize you have fallen right into her trap. And without a doubt, Giselle is aware of it. You can see it from the way the corner of her lips twitch like she's trying desperately not to mock at your loss for words, the way her eyes bore into yours as if challenging you to give the answer that have been on your mind for far too long. She tilts her head, urging you to response.

But even if you don't, she would have already known the answer. Anyone would. Giselle, the perfect example of teenage royalty. Giselle, who can make any men bow down before her with a flick of her finger. Giselle, who always act like she owns the world. And that's not so far from the truth. The world doesn't revolve around Giselle. The entire solar system does.

And she has every right to act that way. Money? Popularity? Charisma? There isn't anything Giselle can't check off on that list. Her parents being the main contributor to the university's funds, she's practically untouchable here. A goddess, you may even say. That's not a metaphor, because metaphors are a figure of speech. And Giselle is a long way off from it.

She has the type of aura that can turn heads wherever she lays her feet on. A vixen. A siren who pulls men in to their deepest, darkest fantasies they have never even realize existed till they have seen her. The worst thing? She takes pleasure in it. The thought that these men will fantasize about her, giving in to their carnal desires that she has awakened just by being in their presence. The amount of sperm that will be wasted on thoughts of her and her only before they are even given life. All those reminds her that she's Giselle. The untouchable. The unbothered.

If you start thinking you can beat Giselle in at least some aspect, think again. Because that will be your last thought before she shows you she's on the top of the food chain. What you are good at, she does it better. If not, she will make sure you are no longer good at it. Because she's Giselle.

People might ask, if she is that ruthless, wouldn't she be hated? Wouldn't she be an outcast? It's the total opposite. Her twisted and cryptic demeanor is what lures people into her dungeon, hoping to find a way through, hoping to get to her core, to get even the slightest idea of who she really is beneath these layers of her indifference, only to end up as another victim that has fallen to her arctic charm.

No one would be stupid enough not to recognize her deadly allure. The poisoned apple. The evidences lie all around them. Men, who would trade their soul just to have a chance with her. Women, who would die to be her. And in some cases, to be both. Yet, they follow the footsteps of those before them. Because she's that irresistible. A living embodiment of lust and pride. Tempting and tempting until you give in and take a bite of that forbidden fruit.

And you are not so far off from becoming one of them. With every passing second, it gets harder not to lay your eyes on Giselle. She has your undivided attention like an insect caught in a spiderweb.

You try averting your eyes to the far far wall, anywhere you will be freed of Giselle's pull, only to be greeted by the maniacal smile of the human skull, grinning like crazy, as if saying "You can't escape from her. Not now, not then"

You shouldn't have even come to this Halloween party in the first place. This whole night have been nothing but a mistake. You should have stayed in your room and finished up your assignment like you first intended to. Halloween is nothing but an excuse for people to get wasted and imitated things they aren't without the judgement from society for one single night. It should have dawned on you back then. You don't even have a costume. What do you want to dress as? You have no idea. A mummy? A wizard? A vampire? A fucking vampire. Out of all the cheesy options of pop culture icons, you have to choose the cheesiest one. With a trench coat a friend of yours borrowed, your swept back hair and your fake fangs, you looked like a handed down Edward Cullen.

Nevertheless, your desperation to fit in: to talk to real people rather than strangers online, ultimately lead you to your despair. Saying the party is lively would be an understatement. It has surpassed liveliness, it has a life of its own. People poured into Giselle's dorm, The Coven, from every direction. The eerie tunes of Halloween carols and artificial screams filled the air, which are farther complemented by the paper bats that hang from the ceiling an the fog machines hissing in the corner. On the dance floor, students move in hypnotic synchrony, their costume ranging from classic monsters to familiar icons you see everywhere. Bodies entwining and intertwining beneath the luminous glow of the string lights that scatter the ceiling.

Being the loner you are, the first thing you do when you arrive is look for someone you know. Anyone who can help you in the quest not to be the odd one out. You sigh in relief when you see one of the familiar face near a drink table, which is exceptional just like everything in this party. A champagne tower stands on the far end, which you are surprised someone wasted has not knocked it down yet. All across the length of the table lies buckets holding different type of bottles, a different kind of magic in each one. And if you are not a drinker, worry not because an ice bucket full of every known fizzy drink known to man is just up for grabs in one corner. Everything is designed to fit anyone's need. Only a fool would not give a second glance to this playground for taste buds.

And you are no fool, so you grab a glass of champagne and head to where your friend is, if you can call someone a friend after talking to them once during a lecture. He's cosplaying Pennywise but with his crumpled jumpsuit and the white makeup which is horribly done, he looks more like a circuit clown who just got fired. You don't expect him to recognize you but much to your surprise, he does. Offering a hand to shake, he says his formal greetings.

"This party is probably the best one I have ever been to" he says in awe. "I heard Giselle organize all of this, must be nice to have your parents paying your bill"

Hinting the envy and jealousy in his voice, you don't blame him. Because it's Giselle you are talking about. There's no one else here who can turn a party into a masterpiece. You should be thankful you got to be a part of it regardless if her parents pay for this or not.

So, you just nod in agreement and change the topic. After a while, you realize listening to a heartbroken guy/clown talking about his exes is not exactly the best thing to do at a party like this. This is not a chance you get everyday and you are not going to let it go to waste by tragedies.

"Excuse me for a moment" you cut him off, chug down rest of your champagne and wander farther. If the party was lively before, now it's on full swing. The dancing has escalated to make out sessions among some of the couples, fueled by the heat of the moment. Much to your disgust, a pool of vomit litters a spot on the floor, the work of someone who have had too much to drink. As you tear through the sea of people, either horny or drunk, you start to wonder if the whole university have been confined into one large mass of bodies here tonight. You bump into Frankenstein, nearly get knocked out by a drunk Darth Vader and hear a curse (not that kind of curse) from a Harry Potter , who's probably high.

You have already failed your initial plan to socialize, there's no way you can make conversation with these people who have transcended to the peak of bliss. Dancing is an option, if it isn't for the fact that you are a horrible dancer and your moves will be worse than those drunkards wilding without a care in the world.

Part of you want to leave, this place is starting to suffocate you with the stench of bodies that cover every inch of this hall, the euphoric faces that appear and disappear with each flash of the lights overhead and the worst of all, the make out sessions happening at any spot you lay your eyes on.

It's such an absurd idea to feel disturbed by the sight of lips against lips, tongues entwined with tongues. Afterall, it's just one of the many ways humans express their desires, the need to touch, to be touched. Yet, combined with this vague atmosphere of the party, the act becomes unbearably explicit.

You feel like a fool for seeing it this way but whatever this party is composed of, it's starting to affect you. What seems like a glamorous spree looks like a maze of skin and more skins to you now. The music, once perfectly fitted with the event, sounds like a broken symphony.

What you should do is indulge yourself in this moment. Just become one of the bodies that make up this sea of bodies. But regardless, you have to turn the whole thing into an illusion of madness and badness. Just to make an excuse to leave this damn place. Just because you don't want to admit you are never mean to be at social events.

And you would have lied to yourself and leave, if it isn't for the music that suddenly dies and the lights that dissolve into shadows. Apart from a few gasps that slip out, the entire room goes dead silent, save for the white noise of a humming fan in the background.

Your impulsive thoughts take this as a sign to re enter your mind. Is that it? Has the party ended? Maybe something went wrong with the electronics? Just more excuse to make yourself believe you don't leave this party because you wanted to. It has to be something else.

Thankfully, you are too caught in the abrupt halt that you are more curious to see what will happen next rather than act on your impulses. For a few seconds, the room remain still, swallowed by darkness. It seems to go on forever until light showered on a spot at the top of the spiral staircase, descending from one corner of the hall. Another glow pierce the gloom then another, until the whole staircase has been light up.

With the radiance that contrast the staircase and the rest of the room, it looks like a stairway straight from heaven, materializing only for the divine. But the one who descends from those steps is anything but divine. Depraved is too weak of a word to describe her.

Down from the stairs comes the queen herself, Giselle, with the faintest clue of a smile on her lips and her eyes, scanning the crowd the way a queen would do to her subjects. No one complains because everyone here is in debt to her. If it's not for Giselle, they will never achieve the felicity of this night, that they have happily surrendered to, unknowingly becoming just one of Giselle's pawns. And you are not excluded.

Giselle isn't wearing a costume, she's just in a different layer of skin. Why would she try to be someone else when she's already Giselle? If the darkness has been eliminated by the light, it is soon going to be reabsorbed by Giselle, whose entire frame is coated in a layer of black sheath dress. The long sleeves of her attire leave no room for skin except the opening at her collar bones, displaying her radiant milky skin. A stygian veil loom over her long hair that falls on either side, as if she's an Oracle going to mutter a prophecy at any moment. Nothing about the outfit makes Giselle stand out more. At a glance, another pretty girl of your fantasies. However, her eyes tell a different story. These pools of cerulean blue that pull anyone who dare to stare right into them like a tide, gripping their core, leaving them breathless.

She's too pretty to be human, you think. Maybe she isn't. Maybe she's send from the higher powers to test the homo sapiens of their real nature, to expose their deepest desires. If that's the case, everyone had already failed ,evident by the way their eyes follow her with each step she takes.

Giselle stops right in the middle step, regarding the horde of flesh stunned by her appearance.

"I'm sure you are having a blast" Giselle speaks, though her voice isn't thundering, it cuts through the crowd like ripples.

Everyone cheers, a cluster of voices competing to be heard. When the silence returns, Giselle speaks again.

"Let go of your worries tonight! Drink! Dance! Get wasted! Party like there's no tomorrow!"

Anther roar erupt from the crowd. A handful of people start dancing without music, overwhelmed with bliss. This time the noise don't cease, chatters of conversation amplify until the whole room is bustling with activity again, even with the lights gone.

A shrill like nail scratching on metal shrieked from the sound boxes, causing everyone to cover their ears, shutting their mouth. When the crowd is silent again, Giselle's voice appears once more.

"I'm glad to see you all are enjoying yourself but there's one last event of the night to top this entire party. I promised you have never ever experienced anything like this"

The crowd remains hushed, eager to hear the next words Giselle will say. Excited to be even more euphoric than they already are. Giselle, who seems to notice it, smiles with satisfaction. And that's the first time you have seen her truly smile.

The corner of her lips will twitch from time to time but they never bloom into a pure smile, quickly ceased before it's given life. But when she does, you become even more sure that she's not human. When people smile, they mean it as a way to show or act like they are glad, content or happy. But Giselle's smile contains neither of these emotions. It's like a work of art, superficially it's nothing but a bent in the line of her lips. But when it is studied closely, you realize she's not smiling out of pure bliss, but rather the joy she gets from seeing how the others cower before her. How easy it is for her to bend their wills without even trying.

However, your astonishment is short lived as Giselle's face returns back to her neutral expression again to continue her speech.

"Unfortunately, only a chosen few will be given the chance to experience this event. And to give everyone a fair chance, I decide to leave things to luck. Are you ready?"

The crowd agree in unison, anxious with anticipation. A shriek comes out from a girl concerning with someone spilling drink on her dress. But everyone is too focused on what comes next to care.

Giselle reached into her cleavage and pulls out five black roses, how she manages to fit all of them in there, you have no idea. Nevertheless, she raises her hand so that everyone can see the flowers.

"I will throw these roses into the crowd and the five person who manage to acquire them will join me in the event. However, there are rules. No one is allowed to move, shove or try to steal it from the ones who caught it. If anyone breaks these rules, they will be banned from this party. Get it?"

Everyone nods in agreement, though you notice some people secretly trying to shove the person in front of them to be closer to the front. One even acts like they trip just to claim that few extra inches.

"Ready? Here they go"

Giselle launches the roses into the air, which spirals into the crowd, admiring the sight with unblinking eyes. Your position isn't the best. You are not at the far back but you are not in the front either. You are in the center , where the bodies are the most compressing. You barely have any room to move.

But much to your surprise, a rose lands right on your hair and the horde around you turn to you, the envy and spite unfiltered on their faces. That should have been me, they would be thinking. You snatch the rose from your hair, twirling it from the stem.

You are still dazed by what had happened. Getting chosen for an exclusive event of Giselle? You must have used up your whole year of luck. Cheers erupt from the other four who share your fate. The rest of the crowd groan and murmur in disappointment.

"Seems like we have our winners!" Giselle announces, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "For the rest of you, the party will carry on. Enjoy yourself. The chosen ones, follow me up the stairs"

The light flood the hall again. Music starts blasting from the speakers. The party has returned back to its full swing. People departs heading back to carry on what they were doing. Drink, dance or get wasted, like Giselle had quoted.

You look up to the staircase and see Giselle already climbing back up, the other four following her steps. You are amazed to see that the Pennywise guy you talked to earlier is one of them. The other three are females. One dressed like Harley Quinn, the other a hybrid between Ariel and Aquaman, holding a trident and the last one looks like she just cuts up holes in an old blouse and put it on, hoping to look like someone.

Not wanting to be left out, you follow them. The stairway curves into a single door, which surprises you because you expect it to open up onto the upper floor. On the door, a strange symbol is curved. A thin upside down heart, almost identical to a tear drop, but this one have two bumps. Maybe another creepy Halloween decoration.

Without giving it much thought, you follow Giselle inside, who pushes the door open. You are left breathless by the sight before you. There isn't a room beyond the door. It's a whole chamber. A circular space encircled by shelves of books, vials and items you have never seen before. A small creature that looks like a fusion between a snake and a butterfly floats in a flask of green liquid. The other holds the skull of a cat, or so you think. Nearby, a strange liquid bubbles in a cauldron. The mixed smell of wood and rotten meat doesn't help. The one single window have been closed shut so that the only light source is the lamp on a nearby desk. If Giselle set all this up for tonight, she has gone way over the top.

"Welcome to my chamber!" Giselle says, her voice dripping with glee. Her blue eyes seem to hint the oncoming of something big. "Tonight, we are gonna play a special game. And trust me, you have never ever played it before"

From a drawer, Giselle pulls out a thin bottle, identical to the ones that hold wine. But it isn't an ordinary bottle. On the surface, strange symbols are curved, shapes and words of languages you don't understand. Another Halloween prop?

"We are going to play 'Spin the Bottle'!"

Giselle announces but no one replies. This is the special game? A party game every high schooler knows. Maybe the only difference being it's a Halloween themed bottle.

"Oh, I know what you are thinking" Giselle raises an eyebrow. "It's a game everyone knows, right? What's so special about it? Well, you will see"

She reaches into the drawer again and this time, she pulls out two decks of card. One looks freshly bought and the other worn out, the card corners bent. Giselle extend her arms, displaying the decks to the others.

"This is what makes it so special. I'll show you. Sit"

Giselle points to the floor. Seriously? But no one argue and take their places. You sit down, the Pennywise guy on your right and Harley Quinn on your left. Giselle sits right in front of you, Aquaman(or woman) taking her right and Ms. Tattered Clothes on her left. A circle is formed.

"Ehmm.... can you put that away?" Giselle asks Aquawoman, who's still holding her plastic trident. The girl's face lights up with a blush.

"Oh, sorry" she apologizes, quickly shoving her weapon onto a desk.

"Now, I will show you how to play" Giselle sets the bottle earlier in the middle space, putting each of the decks on either side. Everyone's eyes follow her moves intently, dying to know what makes everything so special. "It's very similar to a normal Spin the Bottle. Someone spins the bottle, and when it points to a certain person, they have to kiss, or choose one, Truth or Dare. But there's no kissing here. It's either Truth or Dare. Unlike the original game, you can't just ask or dare someone whatever you want. You have to pick a card" Giselle points to the new batch of cards. "This is the deck of Truth, if someone chooses to be honest, the spinner have to choose a card from here and ask them the question on the card" She points to the other worn out deck. "This is the deck of Fate, the deck for Dare, you can say. Choose a card from here if someone is feeling adventurous" Giselle looks each of you carefully. "Got it?"

You still doubt this game is anything but special. It's still Spin the Bottle with a couple extra items thrown in. There isn't anything that makes it stand out. Still, Giselle seems to think otherwise.

"Why no kissing?" Mr. Pennywise asks, the grin on his face makes him look even more abominable. You are thankful you are beside him so that you won't see his face constantly.

"Because I say so" Giselle says firmly. Again, showing everyone who's in charge.

"Oh...alright" Pennywise replies, disappointed. And you somehow feel glad to see him that way.

"Ok, let's begin. I will start first" Without a warning, Giselle spins the bottle. It rotates and rotates until it finally points at Mr. Pennywise. He grins again and you feel like throwing up.

"Man....if there was only kissing" he groans in disappointment. Giselle's expression remains unwavered.

"Truth or Dare?" she asks, tilting her head.

"I'm shy so...Truth!" he strains his voice on purpose and it's not funny, not at all.

"Very well" Giselle takes the top card on the deck. She raises it to read and you notice a symbol of a scale on the back, representing justice, or in this case, the truth.

"What's your greatest insecurity?" Giselle asks, looking at the guy straight into his eyes.

"Ehm....that's.." Pennywise scratches his head, seemingly baffled by the question. The whole points of insecurities is that you keep them to yourself. No one would spill it in a party game. Or would they?

"I...don't know" he tries for an awkward smile. "I'm always happy with myself so...."

"Is that so?" Giselle's voice is smug, as if she knows he's lying. "What do you think guys?" she asks the others. No one answers except the girl in the torn blouse. "Maybe....?"

"We will see soon" Giselle puts the card back into the deck, shuffling it. "Is your answer final?"

"Yeah, why not?" Pennywise answers, though he looks uneasy. "You are really hyping up this Halloween vibe, huh?"

"Oh, you flatter me. But you should have put your words to good use elsewhere" Giselle sounds almost delighted and the rest of the people in the room shifts uneasily, including you.

For a moment everything was silent. You could have heard your heartbeat if it's not for the popping sounds the boiling cauldron is making. Then it happens. Pennywise starts making sounds like someone have stuffed his throat with a rock. He clutches his neck, trying to scream. But the only sounds that come out are muffled whines like a deer getting run on by a truck, again and again. His eyes start to bulge as if they are going to jump out at any moment. His face white as a sheet of paper.

Everyone stares in shock, yet no one tries to help, too shocked by the scene before them. No one makes a sound except Giselle, who makes a note. "See? That happens when you are not honest"

"Make it stop! He's going to die" Harley Quinn cries, her eyes wide with terror.

"Oh, I'm not doing anything to him. He's being punished for his own mistake, being dishonest" Giselle muses lightly as if someone isn't dying before her.

Pennywise falls to the ground with a loud thud and his body goes limp. Aquawoman and Ms. Tattered Clothes screams. Your breath hitches. You hate this guy but you don't want him to die. Not like this.

"What have you done?" Harley Quinn screams in horror, covering her mouth with her hands.

"Nothing. He dug his own grave" Giselle says with indifference. Her face shows no sign of remorse.

"This game has gone too far! I'm leaving" Harley Quinn screams and stands up, trying to walk away. However, she falls back as if an invisible barrier has been put up. "Let me go!" she cries, tears already flowing down her face.

"Now now" Giselle looks at the girl. "No need to be afraid. You just have to be truthful if you don't want to end up like him. It's that easy. Once the game is over, you can leave"

"Let me go, please...." Harley Quinn pleads but Giselle's eyes are no longer on her. When her begging goes unanswered, the girl sits up, sniffling. The others silent as they were.

All this time, you are staring at the lifeless face of Pennywise. His mouth hangs open in an unfinished scream. The terrors in his eyes accentuating his pale lifeless face that you have no idea how it gets even whiter over his clown makeup. His fingers crooked, trying to cling on something. Anything that will keep him alive.

He's dead, you think. He's really dead. This is no longer another Halloween prop. It's a real corpse. Is Giselle the one who did it? She didn't even lift a finger but isn't she the one who starts this game? Maybe it's the cards. Maybe they are magic.

The sense of pride and joy you had had earlier is gone. This is one deadly game. All you want to do is get out of here as soon as possible. But Harley Quinn had already proved it's not a choice. You must stay here.

"Shall we continue?" Giselle asked, handing the bottle to Harley Quinn, maybe out of pity, if she even feels pitiful.

The girl takes the bottle with shaking hands and before she spins it, Giselle raises a hand. "Oh, wait. We have an inactive member"

You instantly realizes she's talking about the lifeless body beside you. She points to it and asks. "You, Mr. Vampire. Can you shove that body somewhere?" she asks it the way someone would ask for a pencil, without a trace of loath in her voice. Like she's asking you to get rid of a dead fly.

"Yeah..sure" you complies. After seeing what happens to Pennywise and Harley Quinn, you are not feeling rebellious. Giselle isn't the one to mess with. You hold the body up by the arms and drag it to a nearby shelf, propping it.

Suddenly, a thought enters your mind. You are away from Giselle. There's no invisible barrier when you stood up. This is the chance to get away. To get out of this mess that has just begun once and for all. You cast a glance to the door and instantly, Giselle's voice flows through your ears. "Don't even think about it"

Without further words, you return to your initial space, now between Harley Quinn and Aquawoman, who had took the vacant spot.

"Let's begin" Giselle orders and Harley Quinn spins the bottle without hesitation. It whirls and whirls, finally slowing down before you.......no, it's Aquawoman.

"Truth or...Dare?" Harley Quinn asks, her voice still shaky from crying earlier. For a moment, Aquawoman is silent. Then she makes her choice. "Dare"

"Oh...this one is feeling adventurous" Giselle compliments. Her eyes fixed on the girl so intently it looks like she's going to burn a hole through her.

Harley Queen picks up the card from the old deck. The symbol on the back of this card is a scythe, a symbol for punishment? Not really a good idea. She gulps after seeing what's written on the card. "You....you have to..." she stutters.

"Say it dear" Giselle urges. "Say the words"

"You have to paint your name....with your....your...blood..." Her words thin to a whisper at the end.

Aquawoman looks like all the blood in her body have been sucked out. "What..?" she asks, although there isn't a need. The instructions are clear.

"You heard her, dear. You have to write your name in your own blood. Doesn't it sound fun?" Giselle asks. If she's trying to be funny, now is not the time.

"I can't......please ask me to do anything. Not this...please, I beg you" Aquawoman begs but Giselle simply shrugs her shoulders.

"You have to do what yo are asked. Or else, you see what happened to Mr. no insecurities. You want to follow him?" Giselle's words seem to snap the girl back to her senses, though nothing about this makes sense.

"How do I do it?" she asks. Her voice so small you have to focus on every words.

"Simple" Giselle stands, takes a dagger from a drawer and hands it to her. "Paint it on the floor right in front of you. By the way what's your name?"

The girl swallows. "Penelope" Not a good time to have an eight letter names, you think. You wonder if her blood is enough. There are nearly six liters of blood in a human body but even if less than half of it is lost....You shut your train of thoughts. Not another corpse. It can't happen.

Aquawoman takes the dagger with trembling hands and sits down, staring at it as if it's a foreign object. Slowly, she pulls up the sleeve, raising it to her forearm, setting the edge on her flesh. It sinks in and a trail of blood starts to pour from the opening. Grimacing, she collects it with her forefinger and writes the first letter on the floor, P. But it isn't enough as half of the letter only formed.

The girl sinks the blade deeper, her lips pursed, trying to seal away a scream. More blood pours. The first letter is completed. You watch the gruesome scene as the girl paints her name. E, then N, after that L. Halfway but she's already trembling. Her whole arm is soaked with blood.

Giselle watches it with a hint of amusement in her eyes. Now you know what's beneath that cold face everyone tries to decipher. It's a sick, twisted mind. Ruined beyond repair. And she likes it that way.

"I can't do this anymore..." Aquawoman mutters in a hoarse voice, setting the dagger down. "It hurt so much"

"Just use your other arm" Giselle advices. "You are nearly there"

"But...." the girl reconsiders and takes the dagger with her bloody hand, raising it to cut another opening in her other arms. She slices and more blood flows. More paint.

The girl continues painting, her temples beaded with sweat. If her eyes can speak, they are screaming for help. The name gets completed one word after another. O, P, then she stops.

"Please......it...it hurts....I'm nearly done, please...can I.." she pleads and begs. Her hands trembling, both covered in red.

"One last letter" Giselle muses. "Complete it"

"I can't....please...?" she asks for mercy. But Giselle isn't known for being merciful.

"Are you saying you can't do it?" Giselle insists.

"No...no....but I can't-" She drops her dagger and stumbles forward, propping herself on her palms. She has lost too much blood.

"Very well then" Giselle says, her expression solemn.

"I...I don't want to.." The girl can no longer speaks. Not because she is choking. But because blood starts to pour from her eyes. A waterfall of blood, enough to write her names a hundred times. You back away in disgust, a few drops staining your coat. The other two cover their eyes, unable to comprehend the horror of the scene. Gisell watches the never ending flow of blood with interest. Not even caring the droplets hitting her dress.

"What a pity, she was so promising" Giselle sighs as the body lands on the floor with a loud thud. "Another one eliminated. Mr. Vampire, would you be so kind to..?" She points it a the corpse. Damn this, why does everyone around you have to die? Without complaint, you grab her from the waist, the only part unstained with her blood and put her next to Pennywise.

Two down. Two corpses. Who's next? You should have left when you had the chance. You should have continue being the loner you are. Stay in your room and spend Halloween watching Dracula. At least it won't be real. At least you won't die. Your desperation have lead you to your demise. There's no way out of here.

Regardless, this game that's nothing but sick must go on. Because Giselle says so. All of you are nothing but pawns on her chessboard. Disposable. Weak.

You expect Giselle to take the spot next to you but instead, Harley Quinn takes it. Giselle is still right in front of you. Those pools of blue still piercing into your soul, inch by inch. Now the circle, or rather a rhombus, consists only of four.

No one complains. They have already seen two examples. No one's eager to become another. The bottle is now in the hands of Ms. Tattered clothes, who stares at it like it's an explosive. You have no idea about the order the bottle is being passed. But it just one of the many thing that doesn't make any sense.

The bottle spins, pointing directly across from the spinner, at Harley Quinn.

"Truth or Dare?" This question, these words that have reaped two souls.

"Truth" Harley Queen makes her choice, at least she won't be cutting her vessels open. That's not exactly a reassuring thought. You have no idea about the other questions in that deck.

A card is pulled. The question is read.

"If someone here is to die, who do you wish it is?"

A simple question, yet the answer a double pointed sword. You know her answer because you would have answered the same. It's 'Giselle'. If she's dead, you all can leave. You all can stop playing this deadly game. But if the truth is spoken, who knows what Giselle will do?

"It's..eh..." Harley Queen stutters, debating with herself. Tell the truth, she risks facing Giselle's wrath. Lie, she dies. Neither's a good choice.

"It's ok dear, speak your mind" Giselle encourages. She pulls her veil farther below and the shadows it cast pale the blue of her eyes. Yet, they are as intent as ever.

"You" Harley Quinn makes her decision. She lowers her head like she's scared of what comes next.

"Eh....honest..." Giselle muses, a faint smile forming on her lips, the exotic kind. "Your courage is admirable, dear. The truth is good. But sometimes, it must be twisted to fit the situation. Afterall, the Truth is bitter"

Giselle smiles and again you are baffled by its arcane amidst the chaos. You would have forgotten you are on the verge of dying had she not sheathed it.

"I'm sorry dear. Such honesty should be rewarded but this time the stakes are high" Giselle sighs, blowing air.

"This is unfair! I spoke the truth! I'm going to die either way, why are you doing this?" Harley Quinn bellows in rage. Her face so red you think it's going to explode.

"You are correct. Lie or Truth, both leads to the same end. But I'm doing this because I find it fun. Because I can" Giselle admits and you have no doubt that she is ,in fact, enjoying this. Her smile had said it all.

"You can't do this! If others know..." her words are cut short by the flames that engulf her. You back away in shock. Thankfully, you don't get to move another corpse as the flames consumes everything in one swift blast. Ash, the remnants of what was once human rain to the floor.

"She talked too much. It's a good thing she went quick" Giselle says lazily. This dead seems to be the least interesting to her.

The nature of the game has become obvious. Truth or Dare, you die either way. It's inevitable. Everyone here must meet their end to satisfy Giselle's hunger. But of course, the game must go on.

"Your turn, pretty boy" Giselle says, handing you the bottle. You take it. Even before spinning, you already know who it's gonna land on. And of course, it does. The deadly little container point rights towards Ms. Tattered Clothes. Another vicitm. The second last.

"Truth or Dare?" You say the three deadly words.

The girl is silent, seemingly struggling to say the right words. Except that there isn't one. Her whole face is frozen in fear, staring into space.

"Hurry up, dear" Giselle says. "We don't have all night"

The girl raises her head to look at Giselle, pleading with her eyes.

"I don't want to die. Please....I will do anything..." she cowers before Giselle, begging for her life. Giselle seeems amused at the fragile creature bowing before her. The idea of having someone's life to do as she wishes filling her with delight.

"Now, don't be scared. Nothing lasts forever afterall. The least you can do is make a choice. Truth or Dare?" Giselle repeats your question.

"I...I'm..." The girl sits back up, realizing there's no way to escape. "Truth"

Giselle looks at you and you pull a card from the deck of Truth. You flip the card to the other side, only to be greeted by a strange sight. The other side of the card is blank. No letters or questions, just a white space.

"What's the meaning of this?" you asks, showing the card to Giselle.

"Oh dear, I'm really sorry" Giselle says with false compassion. "Seems like you have landed on the empty card, which means there's no questions for you to answer"

"What do you...mean?" the girl insists. "This must be a mistake, maybe he can pull another card"

"That would be against the rules" Giselle set the card down in front of the girl. "And I like to follow them"

"So what? If I didn't answer, I wouldn't be lying right? That means I won't be punished" The girl insists once more. And in a sense, what she says make sense. How could she lie if there isn't even a question?

"You are not wrong" Giselle replies. "But it also means you wouldn't be telling the truth either. And that would be lying"

"That makes no fucking sense!" The girl screams, letting her anger gets the best of her. "You are just finding an excuse to kill people!"

"I thought you already know" Giselle sighs. "You are a slow one"

The girl turns to you. "Please, help me. You are going to die too, you know that right? Maybe if both of us can-"

And then she is no more. Her whole body dissolves into a whirlwind of colors which gets sucked in to the blank page of the card like a vortex.

"A shame" Giselle puts the card back into the deck. "Seems like it's just us now"

You have never thought much thought to what happens after death. But now, you start wondering if you have done enough good to get into Heaven. You surely haven't done anything catastrophic but you haven't accomplished anything remarkable either. You just have to hope the good outweights the bad. Because soon, you will be nothing more than another soul reaped for Giselle's amusement.

What was left of Giselle's facade as the perfect human being has gone. She's anything but that. A demon that indulges herself in the suffering of others. Plucking a life after another like fruits.

Giselle takes the bottle. "My turn" she muses, her voice eager to conclude the act. You being the one to close it out.

The bottle doesn't need to be spinned. The result is clear as day. Giselle does it anyway. The compass of death spins and spins, inevitably pointing towards you.

"Truth or Dare?" The last question for this night, the last question you will hear.

"Truth" you reply, surprised at yourself for how quick your respone is. Have you accepted your end?

"If you have the choice to fuck anyone in this room, who would it be?"

Giselle asks, not pulling a card from the deck. Doesn't it break the rules? No, Giselle makes the rules.

The question seems so odd compared to the others you have heard tonight. The other ones are designed either to force you to lie or mix you up so thoroughly you can't answer. But this question? The answer is simple but not without risk. Giselle, the only other human being here, the sole female, that's the answer, the truth. But you don't want to go up in flames like Harley Quinn did nor you want to choke to death like Pennywise. There isn't a way out. You accept your fate.

"You" you answer. "I would do it with you"

Giselle's face shows no emotion. Her eyes staring into yours, unblinking. You start repenting the sins you might have done. Sooner or later, you would end in a horrible way.

"I think so" Giselle finally speaks. She pulls down her veil to let her hair fall freely around her shoulder. Without it, she looks even more sinister. A wolf in sheep skin.

"End me already" you requests. "Let's finish this"

Giselle chuckles. The voice that comes out is frozen, like she hasn't laughed in a millennia and she's just trying again right now.

"What a brave man" Giselle praises. "But you won't escape me that easily. What you will face is worse than death"

You curse under your breath. Death is not the ideal option but at least it will release you. Now, that chance has went up in smoke.

"Lie down" Giselle orders.

"Why?" You questions. If you are not going to die, at least you want to know what you will be facing.

"Lie down" she repeats. Knowing there's no point in defying her, you obliges. Giselle walks up to you, setting a foot on your chest, looming over you. She smirks and that's when you get a crazy thought. The others were lucky. At least they escape this in a way. You wouldn't.

"Good boy" she compliments. You feel a sense of joy despite the state you are in. It feels so wrong. "Lose your fangs, I don't want you to bite"

You pull of the fake fangs from your mouth. Though you still looks like a sleep deprived vampire with the rest of your attire.

Giselle pulls back her leg, regarding you with her blue eyes like a predator ready to pounce. If she starts skinning you alive, you wouldn't be surprised. However, what she proceeds to do is the exact opposite.

She kneels beside you, her fingers trailing along your chest. The touch left you craving for more. With each movement, she sends a shiver down your spine. At this moment, the only god you will worship is Giselle. You will devote your soul to her if it means she will keep doing this.

Her fingers trail across your chest, down to your waist and then land right on your crotch. She squeezes your clothed mamba, which is already rock hard from her gratifying touch. A smile forms on her lips once more. This time from the joy of seeing how badly you need her.

"Oh, you are already so hard" Giselle mocks and squeezes your dick over the fabric once more. The agony from her harsh grip merges with pleasure and you can no longer distinguish which is which. All you know is you want her to keep doing this. Keep hurting you because with pain, there's pleasure.

"Are you enjoying this?" Giselle gives one final squeeze and let go, leaving you throbbing. You could have cummed from her hands alone if she repeats the motion one more time. Nonetheless, you want her to keep going. To find comfort in the hands of your reaper. The very thought shames you but it gets clouded by a stronger emotion, lust.

Giselle presses her upper body against your chest and you would have put your hands on her waist if it isn't for the fact that she could kill you in a heartbeat. Her black hair streaked with blonde sprawled out on your torso, a curtain of silk. If it isn't enough to drive you wild, the rosy smell of her perfume mixed with the faintest scent of her sweat does the job. Diamond is no longer the hardest material on earth because your cock is already pushing through your pants, trying to escape its boundaries.

Giselle moves further up, lining her face with yours. Under the glow of the lamp, you get the full view of her boobs, which are pushed upward with how hard she's pressing into you. The trench of her cleavage is a dark pit without a bottom, which you will eagerly jump into. Just to get more of her. To indulge in her.

Her fingers move along your ribs, your neck, ending on your face, cupping it, holding it like something tender. "Vampire doesn't suit you, you know?" she asks. Just a simple remark but it deprives you of your common sense. All you feel now is regret. Regret for cosplaying as this stupid creature. Regret for not being good enough for Giselle. "But outfits can be removed, hmm?" Giselle starts unbuttoning your shirt and in this case, literally unbutton. She pulls off the first button. Then the other. Then the other.

A fire has been lit inside you and with each button you lose, the flames rose higher. Giselle's touch is electric and even if it's deadly, you will happily surrender. Because you crave for it too much to care.

Giselle spread open your shirt, the sides parting to reveal your bare chest. She lays a finger and trace it down to your stomach. Her eyes lit up with thrill when they land on your bulge. "Oh, nearly forgot him" Giselle grabs you waistband and pulls it down. Your cock springs up, finally escaping its confinement, throbbing with anticipation.

Giselle holds it from the base and gives it one single pump. And you realize that is all you have needed in life. Your mind is screaming 'Keep going. Don't stop' but you don't utter a single word. Either you are paralyzed from her touch or you don't need to. Because Giselle already knows.

"Look at you, all pumped up. Do I turn you on that much?" She doesn't need to ask. The evident is before her eyes. Another pump. A groan escapes your lips. She smiles. "But it would be unfair if you get your release so quick after everything you went through, hmm?" You want to scream. Tell her to let you cum. In any way. Even her hands are enough. Just let you out of this beautiful prison.

She stands and your dick aches, yearning for her touch again. Giselle stands right above your face, her feet set on either sides of you. You get a glimpse of her pussy. And you swear it's the most perfect thing you have seen.

"How's the view down there?" Giselle asks. "Do you like my pussy?" Yes, you would have answered. Absolutely. But as usual, your vocal cords lose their ability.

"You wanna taste it?" Giselle lifts up the hem of her dress, just enough to expose her full round ass. Skin snowy white just like the rest of her body. "I don't hear an answer"

"Yes..." You manage to utter one single word through the invisible chokehold.

"Very well.." Giselle lowers her ass, taking her rightful throne right on your face. No sooner you feel the pressure than you start licking her pink cavern like there's no tomorrow. Your nose is squashed between her buttocks, cutting off your supply of oxygen. But you don't care. Because this is all you have ever wanted.

"Mhmm yes....just like that" Giselle words encourage you to continue your service to her, treating her like the goddess she is. There is only one goal in you mind at the moment. Make her cum. So that she will praises you. Just one single word would be enough.

So you channel everything you have into your tongue. Slurping her pussy, eating her out. Each time your tongue runs across her velvety flesh, you extract a moan from her. You twirl your tongue on her clit and Giselle tense up, another impure sound betraying her lips.

"God, yes....don't stop..." You don't plan to. Your face is drenched in the juice already spilling out of her and your own spit. This is just a small price to pay to taste the delicacy between her legs. The taste can only be described as otherworldly. Because you are sure there isn't anything that taste like this on earth.

Giselle starts rocking her hips, making your tongue catches up with her pace. She's fucking herself on your tongue, just another object to appease her. Your flesh and blood, all hers. And she will use it as she sees fit.

You hold onto her thighs for support. You are drowning in her elixir, the juice that's suffocating you yet empowers you to keep going. Giselle had said this is worse than death. But maybe it isn't so bad afterall.

However, being deprived of oxygen for so long have its consequences as you start feeling your consciousness slowly drift away, although your tongues move as vigorously as ever. Giselle is still rocking on your face, feeding you the nectar you crave so bad. You are starting to think this is how you will die when a waterfall of the clear liquid pour out of Giselle's cavern, soaking your face whole.

You gasp, your lungs filled with air again after Giselle stop using you as a meat chair. One last drop of her juice falls onto your lips. Instinctively, you lick it up.

" You did well, pretty boy" Giselle praises, her voice hoarse. "You deserve a reward" Those were the sweetest word you have ever heard. She walks slowly back to where your legs lay sprawled on the floor. Sitting down, a hand of hers wrap around the base of your stiff cock. "Miss me?" she asked, giving it a pump. Your body tense from her lethal touch. Giselle takes this as a sign to keep going.

She starts moving her hand up and down, stroking every inch of you. The fire in you burn brighter than ever. Waves after waves of pleasure course through your veins and you drown in them happily. With the other hand, Giselle fondle your balls, giving each one a gentle squeeze. "Look how full they are. Is it because of me, hmm?" Not wanting her to stop, you answer briskly. "Yes, yes...." "I think so" Giselle move her remaining hand from your balls to your shaft, now pumping it with both her hands. There isn't a single inch she misses and from time to time, she would rub your tip with her thumb, delivering extra fatal blows.

All you can do is take in the feeling. But you don't close your eyes because it would be stupid to miss the sight of a goddess giving you a handjob. All it exists in the world for now are Giselle's hands, your cock and the flames inside you that dance wild.

"Are you feeling good? You like my hands, huh?" Giselle asks, picking up the pace even more. This time you are too lost in bliss to answer. Not daring to miss the feeling of one single pump because it could be the last. Giselle is giving you a handjob not because she wants you to feel good. Just like everything else in her world, your dick exists to entertain you. She's rejoicing in the sense of superiority, the ability to deliver or deny you pleasure.

She's being generous at least. Her hands don't seem to be stopping time soon. However, your end is near. The flame inside you have turned into a volcano, ready to erupt at any moment. The tingling sensation starts to grow into an amalgam of throbs and pulses. Giselle, who undoubtedly feel it, smiles. "Are you going to cum?" Another unnecessary question. "Cum, cum all over my hands"

And that's all you need to hear before you erupts, spewing globs after globs of cum. Some land on Giselle's dress, the others spill down her fingers. She keeps pumping you until your climax finally subside.

"That's a lot. It would be a shame to let it go to waste" Giselle licks your cum off her fingers and the sight alone is enough to get you hard again. She sucks the last drop off her middle finger and her eyes rest on yours. "We are just getting started. I hope you have a lot more"

You nod and that's not a lie because your dick is already up again like a spear. But this spear will impale something else.

"I want that cock stuffing me full, now" Giselle orders. "Come on, you have been on the ground for so long" You stands up and follow Giselle's lead, who bends over on a desk and spreads open her lips to reveal her pink insides. An invitation. "Just fuck me already"

Instantly, you shove your pole into her wet folds. Giselle lets out a gutteral moan, her back arching. "Oh, yes.....stuff me with that huge cock" If her hands had felt phenomenal to you, her wet cunt feels a thousand times more. You thrusts into her wet hole again and again, already lubed up by her juices earlier.

"Oh god, yes....just like that" Giselle moans and you gives her ass a slap, unable to resist the sight of it rippling each time your cervix meets her buttocks. More juice flows and Giselle moans louder. You knead the soft flesh of her ass, the touch of her skin like cotton in your grasp.

"Harder! Fuck me harder!" You are already putting every ounce of your strength but if Giselle orders, who are you not to oblige? You slam your hips harder. Your cock is already soaking from her juice and the friction no longer matters. It moves with the speed you desire.

Right at that moment, your eyes fall on the two corpses you have lined up against the shlef. Pennywise, with his bulging eyes and midway scream seems to be telling you "Is this what we die for? So that she can fuck you?" The other one, Aquawoman, with her blood soaked body seems to ask the same thing.

But the sickest thing is you wanna answer 'Yes, this is what you die for, so that I can fuck her' How corrupted have you become to put your animalistic desire above the life of others? But it no longer matters because the feeling of Giselle's cunt on your cock is the only thing you need.

Your attention reverts back from the lifeless bodies as Giselle's walls clench you hard. She was tight before. Now she's even tighter. You give your all to penetrate her tight folds but after going for so long, your strength is starting to waver. Giselle, however, is as energetic as ever. She pushes her ass back to meet your thrusts halfway, impatient to wait even for a split second.

You can only take so much as the second spiral of tingles start working their way down to your pelvis. "Fuck, Giselle, I'm gonna cum.." you warn. "Give it all to me, babe. Fill up my cunt. Yesssss..." Giselle hisses as her tight hole get pumped with the next torrent of baby batter exiting your shaft. Despite cumming earlier, the second orgasm hits you with the same euphoric wave, you start seeing the stars.

A steady drip of cum pours out of Giselle's pussy as you pull out. You are panting and all your limbs feel like jelly. Giselle has sucked out every bit of strength left in you. Pushing a finger into her pulsing hole, Giselle scoops out some of your cum, tasting it. "Mhmm...creamy.." She mutters as though she's testing out a new dessert. Maybe to her, it is.

"Are you already tired? Awwww....poor boy. But you know you can't stop until I'm satisfied right?" Giselle's words wash over you like a tide. Suddenly, you start believing you can go again. Afterall, your sole purpose is to entertain her.

You nod and you no longer knows if it's you or whatever is possessing you in this moment. All you can think is how you want to serve Giselle. Even if someone try to give you the escape you have been seeking desperately earlier, you would have refused it. Because now, you are Giselle's.

"Good boy" These words. How you crave them. You would do anything just to hear these words. "Sit" Giselle points to a wingback chair nearby, red just like the blood flowing from the corpse. You obeys. Giselle stands right in front of you, her arms folded. "Here's a little treat for you" Giselle pulls off her dress from the hem, making herself bare. Her body is a work of art, sculpted by the creator himself. Your masculine urges lead your eye right to her tits, which is as perfect as the rest of her body. The round globes that you can suck on for the rest of your life. "You like my tits?" Just one of the many redundant questions of the night. "Yes..." You mutter dreamily. "Taste them" Giselle grips the arms of the chair and leans in, her milkbags only an inch from your face. Instantly, you rises to put your lips on her tits, the other hand kneading the supple flesh of the other. You suck on her nipples ad even an infant can't rival your hunger. You need this.

"Do you like them that much?" With your mouth stuffed with her nipple, you can't answer. You don't need to. You move the attention of your lips to her other tit, switching positions with the first one. As you slurp and lick her tits, blood start to flow to your dick again. Not as hard as earlier but enough to do the job.

Suddenly, Giselle moves back and you are greeted by the emptiness. Sensing your disappointment, she chuckles. "Oh, babe. Don't be so upset, we have better things to do" She kneels, the shadow of your fully erected cock darkening her features. "I wonder how you taste" Giselle licks the underside of your shaft. One single movement but nonetheless, you bask in the sensation. "Not bad.." Another lick. This time on your tip. She twirls her tongue, collecting the remnants of cum from the earlier session. "Delicious...." And just like that, she swallows your shaft all the way down to the base. Her nose presses against your plevis but her eyes remain focused on yours.

You throw your head back. The walls of her throat are no less talented than her pussy walls. Gag reflex seems to be a joke to her as she impale herself on your cock over and over, barely making a sound except the occasional gurgle of spits flowing from the corner of her lips. Her plump lips seal around you perfectly, tracing every vein with each bob. Giselle ways to use you doesn't seem to be running out anytime soon and you like it that way. You want her to keep using you until you are no longer human but a vessel for her pleasure.

And her eyes. If her mouth is sucking the physical strength out of you, they are draining your willpower. There is no present or future. There's only Giselle.

Giselle releases your cock from her mouth with a pop, her hands now stroking your cock, drenched in her spit. "I must say...I'm impressed. No one have last that long" Is she talking about 'lasting' as in not dying yet? You couldn't care less. Her fingers glide over your pole smoothly with the lube her spit provides. She twists her fingers, cockscrewing you. The hunger in her eyes never dim and it never will. She will never be satisfied. Not by you, not by anyone else. You are just another toy, thrown away when it gets boring.

Another spiral of twists and turns, her hands work like magic. Not a single second goes to waste because there's nothing else that can cut off your attention. You moan and you hate yourself for it. But if Giselle likes it, your emotions can be thrown away.

"How cute. You are whining" Her movements turn swift, determined to milk you of every last drop. "Are you gonna cum again? Hmm? It's ok, cum on my tits. You have been a good boy. You deserve this" Words have powers and you believe it. As soon as her lips stop moving, your body jerks, spraying spurt after spurt of cum on her tits. Most of it find their way to the canvas of her boobs but a few land on her face. "Yes, babe...let it all out" Giselle hands leave your shaft.

Once again gripping the chair arms, she leans in, this time to your face. "Goodbye" She presses her lips to yours. A sense of calm flows through your core. Her lips that just sucks you off press harder and harder. Her tongue enters your mouth and you return the action, a ballad of muscles with the symphony of breaths. You can't stop. She won't stop.

Suddenly, you realize. You can't breathe. Air wouldn't enter your lungs. Does it matter? Breathing, is it as important as Giselle? No, it isn't. You are well aware you have gone insane. Ever seen a mad man and wonder what's going on in his mind? Don't. He knows himself more than you ever will. So you don't need to be questioned. You have accepted your fate. If it's a curse, you will gladly embrace it because all you can think of is Giselle, Giselle and Giselle until your last breath.

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(I have never written something this crazy before. But who isn't for Giselle?)

#kpop smut #giselle smut #aespa smut #male reader #girl group smut

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fallenneziah · 1 month

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If you are excepting requests? May I request a ghost x reader where he sees reader working out and at first he thinks she’s doing it because she wants( he lowkey doesnt want her to lose the weight, 🩷he likes her chubby :((( )but then she just stops eating and doing things she normally does because she’s insecure and he just comforts her. kinda long but only if u wanna do it🫶🏼🫶🏼 feel free to change some thingsss

Aww, thank you anon. Requests are open, I'll happily write for you guys (please send me stuff 😅😂)

Beauty standards.

Cw: unhealthy weight loss, unhealthy coping mechanisms, eating disorder (in standard), Ghost taking care of you. Just fluffy.

Ghost is absolutely enamored by you. As a 6'4 man with muscles for miles, he absolutely adores you to be somewhat opposite of him.

There's just something about your soft tummy and despite how much you workout and how strong you get you never lose that soft plush to your skin that makes him want to pick you up and cradle you for hours.

There was something about your warm thighs. He loved holding them. He loved when you sat on his lap and he could pull your thighs in and squeeze the soft skin in his calloused hand.

What he would give to feel your tummy in his hands, sleeping with his head on your chest and your hands on his skin.

Your body is everything to him. He would love it, kiss it, and worship it every day. He just thinks you're absolutely beautiful.

But lately you haven't been feeling as excited about your body as he is. You'd promised yourself you would stop going on Instagram just to split compare yourself so much to the obvious filtered oblivion that were the supposed supermodels. And you promised you wouldn't let any of it get to you.

You were chubby, and sometimes being labelled as simply cute hit a little nerve inside you. Especially in military.

Slowly falling back down that hole. First staring to with a random weight suggestion board that had been cycling around. You decided to try it, and soon exercise took up a huge chunk of your day. More than it usually did.

Grabbing a half a bite of breakfast to leave for your ass crack of dawn morning run followed up by the crazy workout routine you'd been suggested.

At first Simon commented on the stride and how he was impressed you were stepping up. Under the impression you were taking care of your body's needs.

But it only got worse. Until you felt no change in the workout routine and simply decided you would just stop eating.

You had to get thinner somehow and you wouldn't stop until you could confidently post a picture looking like one of the Karcrashions.

You skipped out on meals and simply gave the excuse of being tired and that you'd get food later. But this only flew for so long. How you thought you'd get away with it with the others let alone your own boyfriend was a wonder.

Once again, laying in your bed after rejecting dinner, hearing the door open. You recognized the heavy footsteps as he approached, kneeling onto the bed.

"Hey Simon..."

Simon hummed, his arms wrapping around you, pushing the blanket back and laying down behind you, kissing your neck.

"Tell me what's wrong." He whispers, pressing another soft kiss behind your ear.

"I'm fine baby, I'm just not feeling hungry."

Simon kisses your nape again. "You're never hungry anymore..."

"Just on a new diet..." You mumbled, wanting to tell him and wanting to hide at the same time. Simon squeezed you gently, his hand splaying across your stomach. His kisses slowly stop and he lays his head there, just listening.

The moment of silence passed before you finally managed out. "I feel Hideous..."

Simon shifts slowly. "Why? What makes you feel... Hideous."

You roll onto your back, giving him a firm look. "You know exactly what. Look at me... No matter what I do I can't get rid of this stupid fat!"

Simon remained silent, nodding a little. His heart sank. Simon understood what it meant to hate yourself. He still remembers the time when he felt like he would rather die than live in his body.

But he loved your body. He could never see you as hideous.

"What? You mean your stomach?" He gently rubbed the plump area. You scoffed though. "It's everything. My thighs, my arms, my stomach..."

Simon looked you up and down, effortlessly lifting you up. He kneeled in front of you, gently wiping a tear before it could fall far.

"Fuck what anyone else says. Fuck it." He leans forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and gently kissing your thighs.

"I love every inch of you." He whispered. "The world can burn before I give one fuck about what they say about you."

You sniffled and grimaced. "I hate it... I wish I was skinny."

Simon looked up at you. "Sweetheart, you're beautiful. You're perfectly healthy. What woman wants a bloke with abs and no fluff. Like sleeping on a goddamn xylophone." He gently kissed your stomach, holding your thighs.

"Everyone likes a little bit of fluff."

"I know I do."

He stood and swept you up again, making you gasp and grip onto him, legs curling around him. He played back down on the bed and postures you on top of him.

"No woman's stomach is completely flat, thigh gap? I couldn't give less of a fuck. All I care about is that you're still healthy, and ultimately, you're happy."

Your eyes brimmed with more tears, sniffling. "You don't... Think I'm ugly?"

Simon leaned up, sliding you down into his lap. He wrapped your legs around his torso and kissed you softly. "Not a day since I met you."

A lot of times, seeing your body in a positive light is a hard thing. Even with people around you who encouraged your proportions. Simon knew this. He knew he could help, he could love you and reassure you that he wasn't here just because of your body.

He loves his fluffy princess 😊.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #call of duty #simon ghost riley x female reader #cod x y/n #fluff this time

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blueparadis · 8 months

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╰┈➤ INSCAPE ✦ AYATO KAMISATO.

⟣ ──┈ · · · + synopsis ➢ After a year of marriage when your confrontation strikes the heart of lord kamisato, he dedices to play fair and by your rules. Certainly, if he does what you ask of him, you would not be angry at him would you now?

⟣ ──┈ · · · + cw ➣ fem!reader, wife!reader, husband!ayato kamisato, trophy wife treatment, terms of endearment, established relationship, marriage of convenience, angst and comfort, enemies to lovers dynamic, sorta hate sex ( but there is no sex. i mean there is but just a little ),drunk!reader, marking, temperature play ( wax play + ice play ), virginity k!nk, foreplay, aftercare >> implied piv sex; 2,2k word count. | blog navigation + koct’23 masterlist. |

A month has passed since you stepped into the Kamisato estate yet Ayato rarely made time for his wife. Of course, like all other men, he used work as an excuse to avoid you like a plague. How could he not? When you confessed that your father had forced you into this marriage with tears in your eyes and rage in your heart yelling that if you could you would have rather die than be a man like him. It was a bolt from the blue to see someone with whom Ayato had decided to share half of him choose death over him. So, Ayato kept his distance; kept up the mirage of this marriage, and deserted you in your misery. It has been a month since the day you married him and nothing has changed since then.

As usual, after eight, Thoma accompanied his master to the study room. “Tomorrow I have to go somewhere. Thoma, please take care of the household for a day.” His butler listens and nods.

“When will you be back Lord Ayato?” Thoma asked hanging his master’s coat in the rack. “Will your lady accompany you?” Ayato pauses stacking files one upon the other on his hand to ponder and then answers.

“It is just work-related.” Thoma beams at that and leaves his master alone in his room. The part where Ayato stands is just the entrance, where the light is always on. He grabs another candle stand and walks up to his desk in the dark, lighting them up. And, when he turns around his eyes glimmered on you like grapes ripening before the arrival of the season.

You turn around standing against the window admiring the moon in its glory with a goblet in your hand and a wine bottle kept on your husband’s table. It is empty. You look at your husband, part your lips, and bring the goblet near your soft lips speaking in a calm tone. “You do not seem surprised to see me here.” You take a sip and tilt your head. “Have you been thinking about me—like this: standing here, waiting for you, my love?” Ayato does not break his silence. He just watches like a hawk. He leans against his desk crossing his arms over his chest.

You slowly walk up to him making sure you do not trip. The moment you move the world takes a quick spin, composing yourself you see your husband inches away from you. Finishing the last bit of wine you keep the glass on the desk. You keep your hands on the desk along his firm stature and lean into his face. “Or were you expecting someone else, my love?” You are clearly drunk and maybe so, because you wanted to confront him since never before have you been this rebellious.

Ayato has always kept a distance from you, letting you live freely, working the way you want. While attending parties and get-togethers, you were cautious not to let the curtain of perfect marriage slip and show the world its ugly, rotten side. At times like that, his heart warmed from your vicinity; mind and body at constant battle for you. Of course, what would you know what it is like to love someone, and get nothing in return? That kind of love eats you from the inside.

If you hated him openly he could give you an excuse, perhaps an affair or chronic drinking habit but you are perfect maintaining this marriage. But you suspected him of cheating on you was salt to his wound. It hurt his pride.

Ayato grabs one of your hands, pushing it away and spinning you to stand behind you. Both of your hands are under his grip. His left hand being free finds its way over your breasts. He does not like them. There is a fair amount of distance between his left hand and your upper body. As he finishes tracing your body and ultimately keeping his gloved hand over your belly button he hoarsely whispered into your ears, “You tell me. For whom are you wearing this flimsy dress?

He rests his chin over the nook of your shoulders. You release a soft breath. “Or is it because you have been lonely?” You rub your thighs together feeling the warmth of his breath behind your ears. “Did you ask help from Thoma?”

“What? How could you—I’d never— Ayato shuhses you swinging his body a little making you sway, as if calming a crying baby. Then he speaks sternly, “At least I have a name. Who are you accusing me of?”

“Why are you breathing so hard, love?” He exclaims eye over your belly letting you know how much he can feel your restlessness.

“Leave me Ayato. Leave my hand.” You murmur. There is still a fight in you despite being hurt. He rubs his nose against your shoulder line making you arch your head a bit. He is trying to remember what triggered you and that you were willing to wash all your pride and shame to come to him. You hear a pop sound and a little later feel the graze of his lips, the hot breaths. He understands now. He understands why, why are you here? Closing his mouth he presses his body against your back.

You turn your head to take a look at his face. Your eyes are burning, eyelids heavy and vision focuses and defocuses often. “Thoma— he will, will be here to serve your dinner.” You drawl, one word toppling over the other. The way you took his butler’s name sounded like you were moaning it. “Please. Please Ayato. Leave me.” You feel his hand that was over your tummy loving away and as you take a sigh of relief you turn your face from him. As you close your eyes to dull the incoming wave of pain, you feel his hands underneath your nightgown, nudging in between your thighs seeking permission.

“What?” Ayato drawls tightening his grip on your wrists at the valley of your waist. “Didn’t you say you hated me on our first night? Then, why are you so wet?” He elongated ‘so’ as he spoke into your ears causing goosebumps to light up your supple skin. Embarrassment and shame bloomed all over your body. Your mind denied him while your body was willing to accept him. Not to mention that you are so wet and just from this? Another lie came into the light. The fact that you told him that you were a virgin to keep him ravaging you away is such a brave and bold move.

“Aren’t you full of surprises my love?” He pulls out his gloved hand making you whimper and extends it in front of you to show how much you are turned on. Your arousal stuck onto his gloved hands, drips along the base of his palm as he motions his ring and middle finger. “Not only that,” He scooted over to a side shamelessly staring at your breasts, “Your nipples. They are hard.” His lips moved closer to your ears. He whispers, “So hard.” Makes him wanna suck and bruise them.

The wine is doing its job perfectly. Your senses are lithe and loose. There is a tingling feeling all over your skin and wherever his touch graces, the feeling magnifies resonating in between your legs. The grip on your hands that are held at your back is still there, still so strong. You fidget with your hands a little and Ayato shifts his hand, inserting his fingers through the gaps of your of both hands locking them firmly.

You turn your head, with lust coinciding with desperation in your eyes, and your lips dash onto yours. Ayato is surprised at first but when he notices that your eyes are closed, lips so dedicatedly working against his he returns the favor. You think his instincts are becoming dilute. You slip your tongue trying to dull his senses more so that you can break free from his hold but all you feel is the cold grab of his gloved hand on your breasts over the cloth. Your body curls instantly under his touch making you snatch your mouth away.

“C’mon, it is our one-month anniversary. Let’s celebrate.” He mutters reading into your thoughts and then, pulling his glove by holding it in between his teeth exposing his ivory white skin. When he inclines for a kiss you turn away your head. Your breaths become erratic, heavy, and irregular. He can help you with that but you are being so stubborn. There is a pregnant pause before he bends you over the desk, and towers above you to murmur into your ears. “Fine. Have it your way.”

Ayato stands spreading his legs further against your lower body making you immobile. Still, you manage to turn and face him. You notice him holding a candle in one hand. You could sense what was going on in his mind but before your body could follow the directions of your mind he grabbed your hands, locked them by slipping his fingers into yours and pinning them over your head. He lets a drop of wax fall onto your body. It is good that your robe is still on you. But it does not hurt much, there is a pleasure rapidly following the stinging pain making you greedy for another shot.

“That is no good. You are enjoying it.” He growls and pulls your robe down letting a train of wax fall on your skin. You try to scream, thinking about the amount of pain you will get but Ayato’s lips block you from doing so. Tears rolling from the corner of your eyes yet you do not want to let go of his lips. He is kissing so fervently, hungrily. You did not think your husband was capable of such passion.

Ayato breaks the kiss. The resistive forces in your body have died now. He does not even have to tell you to stay still. He bends the candle to let the wax fall on your skin again holding your garment above your boobs. “Now, my dear wife. Who are you trying to provoke by not wearing anything under? Is it me?” He drawls dramatically letting the wax fall in a trail over your boob writing the letters of his initials. You do not scream, neither protest but rather moan in pleasure. The pleasure is addictive, like the cool Breeze after a storm.

Keeping the candle in its place he pulls you up embracing. A certain while you feel the hot wax on your back again and you bite onto the column of his neck. The more he pours, the stronger your sucks and bites become. Once the candle reduces to half he stops and watching your body so bruised and red makes him mourn but the look on your face turns the table.

“Ayato. Ayato, please. I need you.” you start. Intoxication is still in effect numbing your senses. “I need you inside me, please, I miss you.” you moan and whimper in his arms. Ayato hears a knock. He knows it is Thoma. Must have heard your voices. Slipping his coat over you he takes you into his arms.

“Lord Ayato—” he gasps, opening the door. Ayato adjusts you in his arms and you curl into his chest.

He instructs, “Thoma. We are going to have dinner later.” and walks towards the washroom. Thoma asks if he should prepare a bath but Ayato just tells him he needs some ice.

Ayato places you beside the sink, on the slab. He starts undressing himself thinking how he will be inside you for the first time, fuck you witless. The way you are drunk so much, he thinks, you will barely resist or feel the pain, only the pleasure.

Thoma kept a box of ice outside the door already, Ayato picks them up and he walks towards you naked, with ice in his hands, and rubs them over your back. With such cold hands, he pulls apart your legs to make himself comfortable in between your legs. His cock is hard and awake. You touch his member, making him moan against your ear. He keeps rubbing your back with those ice cubes as you work up his cock to take him in.

“Eager. Aren’t we?” Ayato says against your ears as you place your hands around him. “You have no idea what you are asking for my wife.”

You buck your hips and push him to feel him inside you. The tip of his cock grazes your entrance. You murmur, “Oh, try me. I'm actually hard to impress.” and feel him push his cock all at once, feeling his base against your inner thighs. You scratch onto his back feeling the momentarily alive pain followed by a great wave of pleasure.

“I’m warning you. I’m going to hurt you if I fuck you.” Ayato rasps.

And you mutter over his lips in erratic breaths. “Oh— you mean — sharing the pain, — my dear husband?”

“Ummm—hmmm” Ayato coos, kissing your lips. The night is going to be long and memorable.

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pictureinme · 8 months

Text

kinktober day ii. HATE FUCK – jackson rippner

word count: ~700 tags: jealous/rough sex, fingering, degradation, semi-public masterlist | ao3

Slinking away from the group of guys you were halfheartedly flirting with, you head to the bathroom. Who cares that much about the stock market? Before you can even think about closing the door, Jackson’s hand snakes around your waist, pulling you harshly towards his chest.

“Did you really think you could pull that shit and get away with it?”

You bite back a subconscious moan, “Pull what? I’m just giving you a taste of your own medicine.”

“That’s what that was, huh?” his grip tightens, and you hear his breath quicken, “It wasn’t you just being a slut, begging to be fucked by strangers?”

Jackson lets go of you, only to slam the door and push you against it.

“This is my goddamn job, (Y/N),” the smell of his cologne permeates your senses, increasing your arousal. “You don’t get to have the same excuse. I own you.”

Your lust-filled eyes look up at him, and he begins to realize your true intentions.

“Oh, I see how it is. You wanted me to get all pissed, so you could get put in your place, yeah?”

His hand roughly pulls down your dress– revealing your chest to him and causing you to whimper.

“I hate seeing you with other women… I know it’s your job, but I fucking hate– ah!”

Jackson roughly fondles your breasts, enough to hurt, “Don’t try and explain yourself, you know what you got yourself into.”

Keeping one hand on your chest, he reaches the other to pull down your panties– quickly realizing you’re not wearing any. He rolls his eyes, tutting as he spreads your lips open.

You let him explore your body, taking what you both know is rightfully his.

“So wet, did those guys do this to you? Did they talk about passing you around?”

Shaking your head vehemently, you cry out, “No, no! You did this… it’s for you.”

“Hard to believe you when I saw the way you flirted with them,” his index finger enters your warmth, and you whine.

As quickly as he entered the first finger, he added two more, causing your whines to grow exponentially.

“You’re gonna take it, (Y/N), I know you need it,” his breath is hot against your ear. The constant stimulation was making you feel weak in the knees, but his hand kept you up.

“Please, please, Jackson!” You don’t even know what you’re pleading for, but he does.

He moves his hand from your breast to grab your jaw, “You’re gonna be good and quiet for me, unless you want those guys to hear?”

Jackson’s hand forces your head to nod, even if you tried your best to shake it the other way.

“You really are a whore, aren’t you?”

Trying to deny it, you open your mouth, but he shoves his fingers inside. Groaning around them, you obediently suck, despite his not asking. His fingers filling you up in two ways was making you tremble in delight, and you felt close.

He notices you clenching, and he chuckles, “Close already, (Y/N)? So desperate… I don’t think you deserve it.”

Jackson’s fingers muffle your cry of protest, but his fingering speeds up, making it that much harder for you. You begin to feel his hard-on through his slacks rubbing against you.

“Gonna make you come in this random fucking bathroom, like a real slut would, yeah?”

You moan, his fingers were unrelenting in both your mouth and your warmth. His dark eyes watched your expression, he wanted to see you fall apart, unable to resist your release.

“Dumb whore can’t even talk, can she?” You shudder violently, and he smiles.

“That’s right, come all over my fingers, you can’t even fight it…”

He groans as he feels you tighten around his fingers, spasming all the while. You subconsciously bite down on his other fingers, causing him to groan even louder. As you calm down, he pulls away, watching your heavily breathing body still against the door.

“Meet me at the car,” Jackson exits the bathroom, pushing you aside. You exhale shakily, smiling. You were really in for it.

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner smut #kinktober 2023

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disneyprincemuke · 5 months

Text

where the fun begins * ls2 (ms47)

logan sees you wrapped around another’s arms shortly after you ghost him and he decides to wreak some havoc

pairings: frat!logan x reader, college!mick x reader

notes: hi guys fun fact i am running out of logan gifs to use because i write for him too much LMFAO it’s a very interesting problem to have

(f1 masterlist)

| one | two | three | four |

“hey, isn’t that,” oscar presses his lips into a thin line, pointing across the bowling alley towards your direction. “isn’t that the girl you brought to our party a couple times?”

logan hums in confusion as he walks back towards oacar from his turn. he tilts his head and follows his friends’ finger.

there you were, at the end of the long stretch in the bowling alley surrounded by your girlfriends. but it’s not difficult to pick out the odd one out of the group: a guy.

a blonde guy, in fact. logan almost laughs seeing you hop over to him after your turn, his smile dropping almost immediately when he sees you tuck yourself under his arm and wrapping yours around his waist.

“oh, wow,” oscar mutters, eyebrows raising in shock. “i didn’t know you guys broke up.”

absolute lie. oscar knows everything that goes on in the frat house. he has eyes and ears everywhere on campus. as for you, he’s been secretly seeing your friend lily, and she had briefly mentioned that you and logan stopped talking not too long ago.

he was starting to worry about logan’s antics getting too crazy again, skipping classes and bringing back random girls again. it all started to make sense when lily dropped the bomb on him.

and he doesn’t blame you.

“we weren’t dating,” logan answers quickly, waving his friend’s concerns away. he tries to tell if you would pull away from this unnamed guy, feeling the frustration in his chest grow as he watches you with him.

he hasn’t seen, or talked to you, in almost three weeks. he’s tried calling and sending you text messages, even frequenting spots on campus he knows that you could pass by or hang out in. he never sees you anywhere.

he misses you, as much as he hates to admit it. while you had bought his endless excuses to take your dating situation slow and he refused to put a label on what you had, he does like you genuinely.

“mate, where are you going?” liam lifts his head, turning to logan who’s already walking away. “it’s your turn.”

“play for me,” logan mutters, shaking his head. “i’ll be right back.”

“let’s just take a quick toilet break, maybe,” oscar mutters, patting liam on the back. the australian huffs, putting the bowling ball he had just picked up back onto the rails.

he chases after logan and waves a hand in his face. “are you sure about this? should you even really be approaching her?”

“i just wanna ask her something, don’t worry,” logan snorts, ignoring his friend’s silent pleads to turn back the other way.

he’s typically the type to wreak havoc, which he actually put aside during the short couple of months he was with you. you were more on the reserved side and found that logan was too chaotic with his ways, especially with his parties and defiant attitude.

but when you ghosted him out of the blue after one of his parties, the urge to be a menace rose back up again.

“hey, you seem to have a type, you know.” he leans on the table right next to you, chin resting in his palm. “tall, blonde…”

your laugh is cut short, tearing away the arm wrapped around you. you step forward and turn to him with a confused stare. “logan… come on.”

some of your friends has taken notice of his presence, exchanging glances and giving him dirty looks. logan resists the urge to take the jab at them because he kind of owes it to them that you’d even given him a chance in the first place.

oscar presses his lips into a thin line, glancing at lily with wide eyes. when she told him he had plans, he didn’t know those plans would be at the bowling alley either.

perhaps she planned it so you could parade your new boyfriend in front of logan unknowingly? which is, he has to admit, kind of funny. he’ll make sure to ask lily about it later.

“what? just an observation,” he grins smugly at you, knowing well how you hate every second of this interaction.

he knows how much it irritates you when he’s causing trouble and chaos. or even just trying to spark up an argument — it’s never in your typical serene nature to engage in anything that causes you too much stress.

“can you please just go?” he sees you glance at oscar, your eyes downturned with a plead. “not here, logan.”

“i thought you’d be more excited to see me,” logan tilts his head, trying to sport an innocent stare. “we haven’t seen each other in three weeks. don’t you remember the times when you couldn’t even go two days without seeing me?”

“logan!” you scoff exasperatedly, glancing at the boy watching the scene go down. “seriously, can you not cause a scene?”

“i’m just making small talk.” logan finally turns his head to acknowledge your friend. now that he’s gotten a good look at him, he looks kind of familiar. is he the guy in one of your classes that he’s caught staring dreamily at you? he is pretty sure it is. “found yourself a boyfriend, did you?”

“mate, she asked you to fuck off,” mick scoffs with a small smile.

“logan, let’s just go back. let’s go,” oscar mutters, ready to walk away, towing logan by the elbow to head back to the other end of the bowling alley.

“no,” logan mutters, moving his arm out of oscar’s grasp. he leans on the table again and clasps his hands together. “she’s cute, right? you just wanna put her right in your little pocket?”

you close your eyes and purse your lips, opening them to glare at logan. “we’re just trying to have a game of bowling.”

“yeah, she’s very cute,” mick smiles forcefully at him. he keeps a hand on the small of your back as he turns to logan. “sucks, right? she isn’t at your beck and call anymore?”

“he’s just trying to get a reaction out of you. just ignore him,” you mutter, tugging at his arm towards the lane that your friends have settled in. “it’s easy.” you glance at logan. “i’ve been doing it for three weeks.”

logan laughs, raising his eyebrows at your response. he’s growing agitated as well but he can’t show that to you. you shouldn’t know what kind of effect you’ve got on him. “i never got invited to the plans you’d make with your friends,” he points at mick nonchalantly, “why him?”

you stop in your tracks and tilt your head. you furrow your eyebrows, unsure if he had really asked you that question when the answer is very clearly in everyone’s faces.

hell, even oscar knows why you didn’t opt for the option that is logan sargeant.

“why’s that matter?” you chuckle dryly. “my friends like inviting him to our plans.”

logan tilts his head, looking at your friends with a small smile. some of them return the gesture, some of them simply roll their eyes and scoff at him. “they like me.”

“used to, mate,” oscar whispers, only loud enough for him to hear. he tugs on logan’s shirt again. “let’s go. the guys are waiting for us.”

“not everyone likes hanging around a dick,” mick shrugs simply. he looks at oscar. “no offense.”

“none taken,” oscar laughs dryly, pulling logan in the direction of their lane at the other end of the alley. he smiles at you apologetically. “sorry for us being here.”

you smile at oscar. “no worries. you’re not the issue.”

logan shrugs, rolling his eyes, still very much committed to the nonchalant facade. though, it irritates him seeing you intertwine your fingers with mick.

objectively speaking, he could cause a scene right then and there. but seeing as that you’re not biting into his games, then there’s no reason for him to do that. it would only be embarrassing.

“i just came over to invite you to the party we’re throwing this friday night,” logan smiles, finally pushing himself off the table. he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “i’ll expect you there — i don’t just invite anybody to our house parties.”

you grin. “thanks, i’ll think about it.”

“mate, just fuck off. do you not get what ghosting means? she doesn’t want anything to do with you,” mick smiles, the innocence and friendliness of it all making logan want to tear walls down and flip tables.

“just letting you know,” logan says directly at you. “you know i always know how to show you where the fun begins.”

“okay,” you answer shortly, mick finally moving from his spot to step away from logan and oscar. “see you around, logan. it’s nice seeing you again, oscar.”

“sorry again for the bother,” oscar laughs sheepishly, pushing logan away from the table. he looks over at mick and your friends with an apologetic nod. “sorry guys.”

“i’ll be waiting for you to be in attendance, babe,” logan winks at you before he finally lets oscar whisk him away. “we’ll have fun just like we used to.”

“stop it!” oscar scolds, giving him a hard shove to kickstart their walk. “and what party are you inviting her to? we don’t have a party this weekend.”

“yeah,” logan smiles proudly, nodding at oscar. “we are now throwing a party on friday.”

@cashtons-wife

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you

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sunlightmurdock · 9 months

Note

Mav’s daughter and Bradley trying to keep quiet in the room next door to him😳

THIS ONE IS SO LONG SHIT

Mav having all of his buddies over for a football night, it’s a big group of guys all hanging out in the living room, talking about guy stuff. When you get back from drinks with your friends early, you usually would’ve walked right past them and headed to your room. But, your eyes lock with Bradley Bradshaw’s — and seeing as he has already been screwing your brains out every chance that he has gotten for the past few months, your mind is swiftly changed.

He’s already looking over the short dress you had worn out as he lowers his beer away from his lips, his face growing serious as you drop your keys into the bowl by the door and stride confidently over.

“Hi, boys.” You smile, dropping down onto the couch between Bradley and a much older aviator — you can’t remember all of their call signs, that’s too much work. Maverick looks up from the screen and offers you a smile.

“Hey. How was Corrine’s birthday?” Maverick asks, his attention back on the game before he’s even done speaking. Bradley stares at the screen as the smell of your perfume fills his senses and makes his jeans just a smidge less comfortable.

“Corey’s. She got shitfaced and we had to take her home and put her to bed. Lucy’s staying with her.” You explain calmly, reaching out and curling your fingers around Bradley’s beer bottle. He releases it into your hand without protest, not able to stand the thought of your dad seeing you touching him.

You bring the bottle to your mouth and take a drink, humming contentedly as you pass the bottle back to him.

“That sounds like a good time.” Maverick mumbles, brows knitting together as yet another pass is fumbled by his team. Bradley glances down at you. You’re glaring across at Maverick. He knows you hate it when Mav pretends he’s listening to you.

You push yourself up from the couch and Bradley realises just how short your dress is as you have to adjust it.

“Alright, well, I’m just going to hit the hay,” You decide, knowing that Bradley’s the only person in this room listening to you. You lift your arms and stretch them up over your head. “Night, everybody.”

“G’night, kiddo.” Maverick waves you off absently. Bradley feels his throat tighten as he cranes his neck to watch you head towards the stairs. It’s been exactly six days since he was inside you last, and god, it feels like it’s been an eternity.

His eyes are trained in on you as you walk over to a purse that you had discarded on the stairs and bend down to dig through it. The dress does exactly what you want it to do, riding up just slightly and giving him the perfect view of the black panties between your legs.

And then, you disappear up the stairs. Bradley lifts the beer to his mouth and gulps down a quick drink. He knows you want him to follow you. He wants to. But there are like twelve guys in this house, all of whom are his coworkers and one of whom is your dad. He does his best to sit and focus on the game.

But he knows you’re up there waiting for him and he knows exactly which pair of panties you’re wearing, and it turns out that he’s a weaker man than he thought he was. Well, when it comes to you anyway.

He doesn’t even have to excuse himself, they’re all so focused on the score. He walks silently upstairs, crossing the hall and wrapping his fingers around your door handle. He already knows which room is yours, he has been here before.

He twists the handle and opens it, exhaling softly as he finds you out of the dress already and wearing his t-shirt. You’re laying back on your bed with your fingers dipped between your legs, your lip between your teeth.

Smiling, you take a second just to look him over. Just as handsome as when you had first seen him. Wearing a fitted black tee with his dog tags just visible under the collar, and a pair of faded blue jeans, his curls fixed. You press your thighs together and withdraw your hand from your underwear.

He steps inside and shuts the door behind him, crossing the room to press one knee down onto your bed and cover your body with his. He kisses your mouth deeply, fingers plucking softly at his t-shirt as it sits loosely over your body. “I thought I told you not to wear this around here.”

It’s got his squadron on it. Mav would know who’s it is in a heartbeat.

“Are you scared of my dad seeing it?”

“If I was, I wouldn’t be dumb enough to be up here right now.” He tells you calmly, between deeper and deeper kisses. His big hands grab at your knees and part them easily, letting him settle between your thighs.

No, he’s not afraid of your father. He’s afraid of not seeing you again if Mav does find out. He’s afraid of the way that he feels about you now. He’s afraid of the fact that he couldn’t even make himself stay downstairs and just watch the game.

Bradley’s thick hands shove at the t-shirt, pulling it up and over your head. Downstairs, there’s a roar of cheers. Using the sudden volume to his advantage, he nudges your panties to the side and presses a finger into you, curling it expertly and making you jolt.

“Fuck.” You pant out against his lips. He groans softly as you push your hand between your grinding bodies and palm him over his jeans. “More.”

“You’ll take what I give you.” Rooster tells you firmly, feeling you clench around his finger response. He pulls back to look you in the eye. “Cute dress that you wore out tonight. I’ll bet the guys loved it.”

“They did.” You tease him, gasping as he pumps a second finger into you, curling them routinely and making your stomach tighten. “But I just want you. Only you, Rooster.”

He groans softly, lowering his mouth to adorn your chest with filthy, open-mouthed kisses. He knows that. He knows how badly you want him. He’s got the nudes on his phone, and your clothes at his place to prove it. But he loves how desperate you are for him. The way you stare at him across the room, or dangle off of his arm when he’s not paying you enough attention.

The way you’re looking up at him now.

Fuck, he adores it. It’s right as you’re about to cum on his fingers that he slaps a hand over your mouth. He knows by now that you couldn’t keep quiet if your life depended on it. Even with his thick palm covering your jaw, your sound is muffled but desperate as you push your heels into your sheets.

He checks his watch as you’re unbuckling his belt and shoving his jeans down. “Fuck,” He pants out as you’re taking him into your mouth. “Baby, it’s almost half-time. We’ve gotta — shit — we’ve gotta be quiet.”

You hum around him compliantly, but both of you know that it’s quite simply not going to be that easy. Plus, you’ve had to hide from Mav for long enough now that you really couldn’t care less by this point.

Bradley plants you on your back, both of you sighing in relief as he finally presses into you until your hips are flush to his. He leans down and rests his forehead against yours, his dog tags resting against your chin.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby girl.” Bradley whispers, his brown eyes looking just so endless when he’s up this close. You take your bottom lip between your teeth, trailing your fingertips along the muscles in his back. Bradley swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he looks down between your body and his. “I missed you. So much.”

You hum eagerly, lifting your mouth to pepper kisses along this thick throat. “Missed you too. Can’t believe you made me wait so long.”

“I know,” He groans softly as he starts to rock his hips, his bicep flexing as his fist balls into the soft florals adorning the pillow behind your head. “You were so good, waiting for me. We’ve gotta be quiet now, but I’m gonna make it up to you. Alright, baby? — How’s that sound?”

You giggle softly as he kisses your temple, the sound interrupted by a sharp moan as his cock hits something sensitive deep inside you.

“Shit.” Bradley pants out, brows drawing together as he pulls back to shake his head, still fucking into you slowly. “Shh, shh, shh. Here.”

He presses two digits into your mouth at once, his eyes practically rolling back in his head at the feeling of your tight pussy and warm mouth around him at once. His digits press at the back of your throat as he starts to pick up the pace, your moans muffled around them.

Then, when he’s got your knees pinned back against your chest and needs his hands free again, you turn your face into the crook of his neck, grabbing onto his broad shoulders desperately as you try to quiet yourself to the point that tears are brimming in your eyes.

“That’s it. Cum for me. I’m so fucking close, baby, I want you to do it for me.” He growls into your ear, feeling your nails digging into his shoulder blades in response. He snaps his hips forwards sharply as his thumb works circles on your clit. It’s got to be half-time by now, and as much as Mav irritates you — the last thing you want is for him to see you crying because of how hard you’re about to cum.

Turning your face away from his neck, you press your nails into his tanned skin, pressing your lips flush to his shoulder and grazing your teeth along the flesh. Bradley grunts, his hips stuttering as you quieten yourself by biting hard at the muscle there.

Your walls clenching around him as you ride out your own high sets him off, his hands white knuckling around the backs of your thighs as he spills inside of you.

And then he’s walking downstairs again, fully aware of your nail marks trailing in scorching red lines down his back. Not to mention the distinct bite mark on the swell of his shoulder. He settles back down onto the couch and picks up his beer, not making eye contact with a single person in the room. Not even the one who went upstairs to use the bathroom ten minutes ago and heard Mav’s daughter whimpering Rooster’s name.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #jake seresin #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #thots night (:#top gun smut

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messrmoonyy · 2 months

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-Sadie Adler as your gf hcs ( sfw/nsfw )

Sadie Adler x Fem!reader

A/N- I am in fact posting these out of pure and utter spite because Sadie Adler can. And will. Kiss girls. Because this is what?! Fan fiction!And it brings me an insane amount of joy that the sheer idea alone of Sadie being queer angers people. Sadie Adler kisses girls pass it on!!!

These are mostlyyy epilogue and beyond based Sadie pls lemme be your lil housewife

Dedicated to @queer-sadie-adler for being the true voice of reason lately amidst the hell hole that has been the queer Sadie discussions. You’re awesome.

Masterlist - requests are open!

• she’s incredibly protective of you. One wrong look your way and she’s ready to start shooting or swinging. Shes so a ‘ why don’t ya take a picture, it’ll last longer ‘ baby has some slight anger issues

• falls very much into the ‘ I hate everyone except you ‘ category. So stoney faced and ready to brawl with everyone, but soft gazes and tender touches with you.

• you hear her before you see her. She’ll ride back home to you after going after a bounty and proudly announce her return with a ‘ honey I’m home! ‘ as she rides up to your home.

• secretly adores the way you fuss over her before she goes out. She lost everything other than you in the space of like. A year. so it’s nice to be reminded how much you care about her. And that she has someone in the world to care about herself.

• she’s actually a pretty decent cook. And you can often expect her to try cook you something nice. Especially if she’s gotten onto your bad side some how, she knows a nice romantic meal will butter you up nice and quick

• I have this thought that she is just a nightmare to share a bed with. Girly tosses and turns and takes up too much damn space. But it just gives you the excuse to crawl up close to her and get comfy in the little space she leaves, falling asleep practically on top of her.

• and on the subject of sleeping. Has just the finest motherfuckin morning voice you’ve ever heard. Her raspy ‘ Mornin my darlin’ in your ear everyday makes you wanna melt into a puddle every damn time.

• loves sharing a bath with you. Especially if she’s been gone for a few days. She’ll make some excuse that it’s just to save on water. But in reality she just wants to relax and hold you close to her, feel your skin on hers to remind her she’s not just some angry bounty hunter. All tough and rough and fighting. She needs the gentle and the calm you provide her.

• hand holding. Forehead kisses. Sitting in her lap as you read on the porch. Just small, gentle acts of intimacy. The kind not discussed but well practiced between lovers.

• she can get in her head a little sometimes. She knows it’s not easy being in a relationship like that in 1907. And she knows that she doesn’t make it much easier on you with the works she does either.

• but she loves you wholeheartedly. And she knows that you love her just as equally. And as much as she feels she doesn’t deserve you, she’ll keep loving you until you don’t want her anymore which would never happen of course

•NSFW•

• she needs to be the one in control all of the time. This isn’t to say she doesn’t like receiving, or like having you on top of her. She just likes to be the one with her hands on the reins yk.

• in fact. She quite enjoys you on top of her or In her lap. But even so, know that she’s the one pulling the strings and she’s two steps ahead of you at all times

• she’s gentle and soft with you, but determined. Whether that’s knowing exactly where to touch you and abusing that same spot over and over again until you’re a shaking mess. Or telling you where and how to touch her.

• I said this in my last hcs but fingers in the mouthhhhh. Idc what anyone says. I see it so vividly. She loves it. Loves watching you suck her fingers to get them wet. Or clean them off.

• eats pussy like a god. Will have you seeing stars and thanking whatever Lord may exist for putting that woman right between your thighs. Sloppy and thorough and has you coming with her name on your tongue.

• thigh riding!!!!

• girly loves to manspread. Will sit there and pat her leg for you to perch on, but manoeuvre you to straddle her leg instead. And she loves how it makes you blush ‘ you’re a regular ol’ cowgirl now ain’t ya honey? ‘ as she leans back in her seat to watch you I’m literally going insane

• morning sex!! Waking up spooning with her, teasing her by wiggling your hips against her until she slips a hand over your hips and between your legs

• ‘ this what y’ wanted? Been dreamin of me honey? ‘

• will absolutely get up afterwards as casual as ever and ask what’s for breakfast. As if she hadn’t just had her fingers buried in your cunt.

• her aftercare is just so gentle. Especially if she’s been gone a while and has you coming for hours on end. She’ll praise you and hold you and help clean you up. Maybe drag you into the tub with her and sit behind you to wash your hair.

• and she enjoys the intimacy of dressing you so much more than undressing. Getting you comfy and cosy in clean night clothes before snuggling up with you in bed, letting you rest your head on her chest and tangling up your legs together.

#Sadie Adler kisses girls pass it on!!#I’m also writing a drabble/os on that thigh riding thing as we speak #gnawing at the bars of my enclosure for this woman #Sadie Adler #sadie adler x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 community #rdr2 fanfic #Sadie Adler smut #x you #fluff #arthur morgan #john marston #van der linde gang #rdr2 Sadie

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writingwithfolklore · 5 months

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Creating Fictional Holidays

Happy Holidays everyone!

Like mythology or folklore, holidays can add an extra bit of realism and magic to your fictional worlds, and provide for an interesting setting to portray characters, culture, or even family dynamic.

While you can use real world holidays and adapt them to your worlds, you may also want to create your own! Here’s a few things to consider:

1. What does your holiday celebrate?

Typically, holidays come from historical events or events believed to have happened by religious groups. Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Christ. Diwali celebrates the victory of light over darkness, or good’s triumph over evil. Passover celebrates Israelites’ escape from slavery. This would be a great chance to delve into the history of your world, and how it forms and influences communities.

Otherwise (and as well as), holidays can be expressions of important cultural values such as community, hard work, or family. The Day of the Dead (or Dia de los Muertos) is the celebration of honoring passed family members, Labour day is held to honour the struggle for unionization by working people. What does your holiday say about the society or community that created it?

2. How has your holiday adapted?

As much as holiday is entrenched in longstanding tradition, there is no escaping modernization and adaption to contemporary norms. As much as Christmas is a religious holiday at its roots, for many, it’s a celebration of family and gift giving. Rather than being a saint, Santa has become the jolly toy-maker separated from religion entirely.

If your holiday began to celebrate say Harvest season, but in modern times ‘harvest season’ is no longer regularly recognized, how does this society continue to celebrate this holiday? Where does tradition and modern standards intersect?

3. How do people perceive the holiday?

Even joyous, wholesome holidays are going to have haters. Just think of Valentines Day coming around every year—there are people who love it, people who hate it, and people who see it as a superficial excuse to fund capitalism and consumer culture. What do the people of your world believe about the holiday, or what groups/communities are invited or left out?

4. What rituals go into celebrating your holiday?

During Christmas, many families bring in a tree, wrap gifts to put under it, and bake cookies for a secret intruder in the night. A ritual is just a way people honour something—it doesn’t necessarily have to be cultish or ‘evil’. What longstanding rituals go into the celebration of your holiday?

Maybe gifts are exchanged, candles are lit, cards are given out, money is donated, certain foods are given up or certain times limit eating (such as fasting), families gather, parties are held, etc. etc. There are thousands of ways people celebrate what’s important to them. Consider how each family or character in your story might take a slightly different spin on the same rituals.

I hope no matter what or how you celebrate this year, you get time to spend with your loved ones <3

#writing #creative writing #writers #screenwriting #writing community #writing inspiration #books #filmmaking #film #writing advice #holidays #festiveseason #worldbuilding

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mickeyswhore · 7 months

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Billy's Plaything

A/N: Part 2? Maybe?

Summary: Billy is your stepbrother, he makes you embarrassed. What happens when you tease him instead?

Billy Loomis x Reader

Warnings: inappropriate step-sibling relationship, creepy behaviour, light smut.

GIF by @coppoladelrey

You hated Billy Loomis, despised him. You often dreamed about him being dead, but that was only half of the time, the other half you wanted him in your bed, you dreamed about him fucking you in the best way possible, or when both of those emotions collided and you thought about fucking Billy Loomis after he came to your bedroom to yell at you.

After his mother left, his father found a nice woman to settle down with. The only problem? That was your mother, and the two of you met and it was clear as day that you hated him and he hated you but both of your parents were too in love to notice the animosity, ever since your father died when you were 5, your mother was never in a relationship and she was so happy, so you decided to just take it for her happiness.

His father was a nice person, he treated your mother very well and made sure to get things you liked and also paid for a lot of classes just to accommodate for uprooting your life and moving to his house. But Billy? He infuriated you, he made your life hell but it was such small things that it didn't make sense to talk to your parents.

“WHAT THE FUCK, BILLY?” He did it again, he stole so many of your panties and he always had the same excuse.

“It probably got mixed up with my boxers, you need to chill.” His voice was so calm but his smirk made you furious, so you slapped him. Your breathing was hard and you felt yourself getting wet because of Billy and you hated yourself for it. “I’m gonna give you a pass because you’re probably on your period or something…” You were about to slap him again but he stopped your hand by holding your arm, fuck he was strong you thought. “You only get one of those, baby.” He was looking at your lips, fuck you wanted to kiss him.

“Let go of me.” Billy laughed, he knew as much as you that your words had no weight behind them.

“You can just remove your arm.” You snapped out of your trance and removed your arm from his grip.

“You’re a fucking psycho, Billy.” You were so annoyed at him, his eyes darkened and he got even closer to you.

“But what does that say about you?” He whispered in your ear, shivers running down your spine but you frowned. “If I am a psycho like you say, why do you want to fuck me?” You were stuttering and Billy laughed at your sudden shyness. “Do you think I don’t hear you fucking yourself calling my name, huh? Do you think that I never noticed you trying to take a peak at me changing? Baby, you’re not subtle at all…and I bet that if I put my fingers inside your tight little pussy, you’d be so fucking wet.” His smirk never left his face, you got caught and you hated that he was right.

“You’re wrong, I would never call your name when I’m cumming. You’re just delusional.” You were proud of yourself for not stuttering but Billy laugh.

“Who said that you called my name when you were cumming?” With that Billy left you in his room, you were flabbergasted by his antics and you felt like shit because despite his antics, you wanted your step brother to fuck you.

-------------------------------------

It kept getting worse, Billy was teasing you all the time and you were so annoyed about the fact that he had that much of an effect on you. Billy made you into his plaything and you had no say in it whatsoever, it was infuriating and the fact that he was plaguing your dreams and fantasies made all of this ten times worse.

“We’re going on a trip to Switzerland, I trust that you kids will be alright for a week?” Billy’s father announced at dinner and you saw how happy your mother was, so you decided to simply go along with it and not say anything.

“Sure, dad. Hope you guys have fun, don’t forget to call.” Billy smiled and then he looked at you, his gaze was making you feel as if you were naked, he saw right through you and you hated it.

“I’m so happy for you mom.” You kissed her cheek, even though your mother was the reason why you were living with Billy, you could never resent her. She deserved to be happy, even if you weren’t.

---------------------------------------

You decided to just be in your room and not see Billy, but you weren’t that lucky. He came to your room and was snooping around, you hated when he did that but decided to ignore him. Giving in and fighting was what Billy wanted, so you decided not to fall for it. Be strong, you thought to yourself.

“You’re gonna ignore me the whole week, baby?” Billy laid in bed next to you, but you decided not to react. “Come on, have you been dreaming about me?” You took a deep breath, but decided to change the dynamic between the two of you.

You straddled him and got extremely close to his face, you could tell that he was surprised and you were so proud of yourself for making him speechless.

“Every night, baby.” You whispered and started grinding on his cock and it was hard already.

“What you’re doing?” He asked with a small voice, he definitely wasn’t expecting that from you, Billy does the teasing, not you.

“What we want, right?” You kissed his neck and Billy pushed you away and left your room, you started laughing and went back to reading your book.

Billy left you alone all day, you were grateful that you weren’t an ass out of yourself in front of him and maybe the worst was behind you now, but wrong you were.

You were now ready for bed, you put on your nightgown and already moisturised your skin and you were happy. When you were in bed Billy entered your bedroom, and he got on top of you with a predatory look on his eyes and you too stunned to speak.

“I gotta say, you caught me off guard earlier but we need to fuck so we can stop playing this game, baby.” He was expecting your answer, but you were simply looking at him, you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. “What do you say, baby?” You nodded your head but Billy wagged his finger in front of your face. “I need words, baby…come on.” He whispered.

“Please, fuck me Billy.” He started kissing you, there was no tenderness to it simply lust. Billy started playing with your nipples, and he inserted two fingers inside you.

“Oh, baby…you’re so wet, you’re such a freak for wanting your stepbrother to fuck you, huh?” His words making you even more turned on, you were moaning and pulling his hair, it felt so fucking good.

When you were about to cum, the phone rang. You and Billy were frozen but you were the first to move, he finally removed his fingers and you picked up the phone.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Hey, honey. Just called to let you two know that we arrived at the hotel, and I love you very much. Try not to kill each other.” Your mother laughed, you did too, awkwardly.

“I love you too, mom.” The two of you started to chat about other things, and she hangs up.

You slowly start to walk back to your bedroom, now that you’re less horny it started to dawn on you that this was a bad idea, Billy is your stepbrother for fuck’s sake. It doesn’t matter how much you wanted him, you didn't want to ruin your mother’s relationship.

“It was my mother.” You announced to Billy.

“I heard.” He got closer to you, and started to kiss your neck but you stopped him.

“We shouldn’t do this, Billy.” He was now making patterns across your arm.

“Why not?” He kept eye contact with you, making it hard to keep your resolve.

“Our parents are happy, Billy. If we do this, they might break up.” His touch was comforting, but it really wasn’t helping.

“I get what you’re saying, but they won’t find out.” You didn't seem convinced, at all. “I won’t force you into this, ever. But just so you know, I need to fuck this tight little pussy and I know that you need my cock deep inside you until I fuck you dumb and you don’t know anything but my name, baby.” He kissed your cheek and left your bedroom.

You could hear him masturbating, he sounded so hot and when he finished he yelled your name. You had a decision to make and Billy made it all up to it, he wasn’t going to pursue you, if you wanted…you were going to have to get it.

#billy loomis x reader #billy loomis x you #billy loomis x female reader #billy loomis x y/n #billy loomis smut #billy loomis imagine #scream 1996 #billy loomis

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weebsinstash · 3 months

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*me, a poor peasant child holding up my plate.*

Please sire, may I have some more platonic yandere Lucifer and Charlie? 🥺

Of course, starving Victorian child! (Also you just said platonic but I wound up writing this as like, mostly family platonic yandere so idk if that's a distinct difference to you but, here ya go!)

-- I feel like these two would really kinda infantilize you, specifically when it comes to violence, drugs, alcohol, and sex. You know how Charlie is clearly an adult woman but it could not be anymore clear that she's still really sheltered and naive, almost like a kid would be? Like the skit she had Pentious and Angel do literally brought up like, no sex before marriage as a sign of being a good person... did her dad ACTUALLY raise her with vaguely traditional/religious values. That's the kinda thing they start enforcing on you. Oh, you're dressed so cute! where are you going? gasp! A bar??? But that's soooo .... risky!! You're young, and, you're just so nice, and... why don't you stay home and play board games with the Morningstars instead?

You're over here, "can I PLEASE smoke some fucking weed" and Lucifer would deadass with his full chest, "no, none of the Devil's lettuce for MY baby! Those other Sinners can run around with their crack and their whippets and their absinthe but MY CHILD is better than that"

-- platonic yandere Charlie and Lucifer passing the single brain cell they share back and forth, "Dad, they bought some new clothes and I thought it was gonna be for that outing we're taking later this week but they put it on and left the Hotel and went somewhere else!! Who else would they dress up for? Do you think they have a secret second family and they actually hate us? 🥺" "Charlie, do you have any idea how... totally possible that is, oh golly, we've gotta follow them and make amends so they come home!!" and you're just like.... having coffee with a new friend

You're at a cafe looking cute and Lucifer and Charlie are having a stakeout in the fucking bushes nearby or some shit, Lucifer grinding his teeth trying to guess who this piece of shit trying to take his baby away is, growling how hes gonna rip them apart, like who the actual fuck does this person think they are, and Charlie is like, trying to be a little more level headed "haha cmon Dad they would never replace us :)" but then the second she looks over and sees this other person is exchanging too many meaningful glances at you and making you laugh, her switch flips. "Actually yeah Dad you know what you were totally right, they're obviously a creep trying to hurt Readsr and we should kill this guy :)"

--Charlie has no problem with you hanging out with Alastor but I like the idea that she can suddenly see right through him when it's YOU he's doing stuff to. He can be on his whole "oh just call me dad" shit to her and it'd give her the warm fuzzies, but the second she sees Alastor going out of his way to come up and interact with you in front of her father, she knows he's trying to rile her dad up and may even tell him he needs to wait his turn and interact with you later. Lucifer meanwhile all but wants to bite the cannibal like a rabid dog for coming near you and treats him like Al's the evil villain trying to take away his little royal heir. He has no idea what that yellow toothed black gum cretin wants to do to his baby!

-- I can just see arguing with Lucifer, "why can't I date? Charlie gets to date!!" and Lucifer's just like trying to bullshit an excuse for why he just doesn't want you dating because, you're his widdle baby and he isn't ready to see you act adult yet :( the only man you should be kissing is your short father on the cheek! Lucifer is VERY MUCH "I am the only supportive guardian figure you need in your life" kinda yandere dad, if you go to anyone else for help before him he's taking it as a personal slight against him and vows to show up that other person so you never "choose them over him" ever again

-- obviously I'm so fucking biased but. Lucifer with Daughter Reader is obviously just him being your tiny guard dog all the time like, he is so soft, he is such a girl dad. No men talking to either of his baby girls!! No touching his little princesses!!! You'll be out in fucking public as a grown ass woman and Lucifer would still be like, "oh, there's a lot of people here, here sweetie, hold my hand so you don't get lost", marching around holding your hand as the most powerful Anti Rizz Shield in all of Hell, he has no shame, this man is fucking Mayes Hughes whipping out his wallet, "wanna see photos of my girls?!?!?!? Here's one of them in matching dresses, here's one from the musical we went to last week, and here- gosh arent they just the cutest ☺️❤️"

like if you ever wander into another ring like Gluttony by accident, Bee is buzzing up to you, "oh my gosh, it's Luci's little pup, sweetie you're not supposed to be down here, let me get you back upstairs, your pops is FREAKING!!" and talking to you like she already knows you like a friend because Lucifer is showing your photos to ALL his demon friends at every like, Rulers of Hell meeting. Lucifer is over here beaming with pride as Stolas looks over his special I Love My Daughters Photo Album and nodding his head, "perhaps we can arrange some playtime with your girls and my Via, let them all get to know each other" and it's like Lucifer can you PLEASE stop recruiting other all powerful almighty demons into the Let's All Be Platonic In A Creepy Overprotective Way Club. You just turn around one day and like half the Overlords and a few of the Cardinal Sins are all vying for your attention and you're like a celebrity and it's cause your dumb duck dad is blabbing his mouth showing your picture to anyone with eyes

-- you know how Sinner Demons come in all these different sizes and shapes, with fur and wings and, bugs and dinosaurs, fish and object heads? What if Lucifer has the power to alter your demonic form? One day you turn around and you're no longer whatever multi armed fuzzy creature you once were, but you're now... human again. Or at least, human like. You've got your old face again, your old skin tone, but, you've got horns that look suspiciously like your friend and her father's, a retractable tail with a heart on it like theirs, maybe even those like, kinda weird rosy cheek things. And it's because Lucifer and Charlie have decided, well, they don't care what you look like regardless, but now, don't you actually look like a member of the family? Now everyone can tell when you're together! ^^

Like it's kinda sweet but the adjacent horror of Lucifer "oh yeah I completely changed the shape and appearance of your body to more resemble me and my daughter so you look like you're ACTUALLY our family :)" like can you imagine him pulling this kind of shit when you're like not even that kind of close yet. Basically kidnapping you into the Morningstar family tree and actually making you look like them to the point other people can spot you and instantly know to steer clear. Maybe you even get a little special outfit of your own,your own little suit and bow tie with an apple or snake on it somewhere

-- you know how sometimes you just want to be alone? You just like space? You just like not knowing you're being watched or having to share your space with anyone else, you can just breathe? It's not about hating someone else or other people, it's just like... wanting to be the master of your own space for a while?

Foreign fucking concept to these two. Your activities become THEIR activities. Oh cool you're 6 episodes deep into an anime? Here's Charlie and Lucifer, "oooo what are we watching?" "Oh she's really pretty, what's her name, is she the main character?" "That lady sure isn't wearing a lot of clothes, I don't know if this is appropriate for you to watch" "oooo oooo pause it, I'll go make popcorn, dont start it again without me!"

Don't get me wrong I can see this being adorable, you're just like adhd autism infodumping and catching them all upon who everyone is and all the stuff that's happened and "I can restart it from the beginning and we can watch it together?" And they're eagerly hanging off of your every word based on how interested and excited you are about the subject, for whatever hobby or show you're indulging in

BUT I can see this turning into them intruding on everything you do and when you finally do try and say "hey I'd like a little space" that turns into a DISCUSSION. wait why don't you want to spend time with them? Are you sad? Did they do something wrong? Tell them exactly what you're thinking, OBVIOUSLY the correct action ISNT to just give you the space, CLEARLY this is an emergency needing investigation!! Like God forbid you tell them a lie to sneak off and hang out with someone else because THEN it's "who is this clearly abusive evil person telling our precious Reader to lie to us? The altar calls for their blood"

--SINGING!!! These two sing all the time (Charlie sings the most as the Not Depressed Morningstar) and they teach you too! They'll encourage you to join into song, and even just do those little songs you and I do when we're doing small tasks. You'll catch them in the kitchen, "washing the dishes, washing the plates, put them away and have a wonderful day ^^" and they'll try and rope you into singing until eventually you're expected to belt out musical numbers with them like anyone else in this show (bonus points for your first musical song being some sort of rebellious rock ballad about wanting to run away from them because they make you feel controlled or something)

-- mandatory family trips to Lu Lu World! You are NOT going home until you play all sorts of games and eat all sorts of carnival food and are struggling to walk home carrying your giant stuffed duck. God, really missing my childhood going to Six Flags before capitalism ruined amusement parks...

-- "cringe" does not exist in this family and they wont make you feel bad for liking something unless it's like ACTUALLY HARMFUL (like getting drunk and high). You cannot tell me these two do not already have fursonas and they'll geek out on the couch watching cartoons and playing video games with you. You're eating candy watching Naruto and playing LEGO Batman and playing dice games and they're loving every second (Reader why did you have to hit that Nat 20 roll on the "Getting Adopted By The Morningstars" quest, now they're never leaving you alone bro, bro i think youre gonna have to murderhobo your way outta this bro--)

-- I feeeeeeeeeel like. Lucifer if he concentrates really really hard would be able to tell where you are at all times because, Hell is HIS house. He um. He literally has pocket dimension "make shit appear out of nowhere" powers, so like... do you think he can feel all the souls in Hell? Do you think he would be able to concentrate and be like, "oh I can tell Reader is in that direction and is feeling really happy right now"

I just... I picture Reader having a really awful fight where you yell and scream at Lucifer and you can tell you actually really hurt his feelings, maybe even making him tear up, which would then make Charlie really upset with you, and then you're running off because you feel like you can't stay there anymore, and you're wandering the streets, lost, hungry, starting to get cold, wishing you could go back and apologize but feeling like they would never take you back, and, of course, the age old trope, you get cornered by some robbers or some potential attackers and they start beating you around and, all you can think is how ungrateful you were, that you wanted to apologize to Charlie and Lucifer but they probably hated you now, it's too late, it's... it's...

You don't know if it'll work, but you're about to be hurt really badly and you're genuinely scared and missing them and, you just clasp your hands and say a prayer, calling out to Lucifer, but you're like... literally saying it like... you're manically whispering and whimpering not knowing what the fuck you're supposed to say or if something like this would even work, "O Dark Lord Lucifer please hear my plea for your aid and-- no fuck it, come help me DAD I'm really really SCARED DAD THEYRE GONNA HURT ME COME ON DAD PLEASE DAD I'M SORRY, WHAT I SAID WAS WRONG, DAD PLEASE-" and he's there like, before you're even done speaking. You're still covering your head and whimpering and crying and you just hear, "It's OK now" and he's standing over you with bloodied fists and the attackers all crumpled on the ground and he's picking you up like it's nothing to take you back home.

-- lastly, I feel like there's few boundaries on nudity with these two. Like, it's not incestuous or anything, but if Lucifer walks in on you changing and you've got your beav out, he would probably politely put a hand over his eyes and keep talking anyways. Charlie treats it like walking in on her sibling, on someone her age she's known all her life. She'll be walking up, picking lint off your clothes, helping clasp your bra, whichever whatever without any regards for how exposed you might be feeling. Oh you're feeling shy? But she's your sister; you don't have to be shy!!

It's all fun and games until you're completely butt ass naked having Family Bath Time, Charlie scrubbing shampoo through your hair while Lucifer has ungodly amounts of duck themed bath toys floating around and you accidentally catch sight of THE Angel Of The Bottomless Pit's full-on dick and balls that you're realizing, oh, when they said they want to treat you like family, they meant like FAMILY family... oh shit... hope this doesn't turn into a huge "hey also we couldnt bear the thought of losing you so you're kind of immortal now" kind of problem...

#yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hellaverse #yandere x reader #hh #sinprompts

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