#tfothou x reader

[gorgeys]

MEET ME AT MIDNIGHT ★ camille l'espanaye

camille l’espanaye x femCEO!reader

again, you find yourself seated across from camille on a quiet night, and this time your flirting has real consequences

warnings: nothing really, it’s all sfw just some sexual suggestions

word count: 2440

note: this takes place before the court case and everything starts

also the ending is kinda rushed bc i just wanted to finish it sorry

the two regally dressed doormen opened each side of the gigantic glass doors, allowing your entry into the restaurant. famously known as the most elegant restaurant in all of new york city, it was unusually empty on this saturday night.  all of the tables were barren except one against the far glass wall.

it was a table for two, already prepped with the proper silverware and two full glasses of wine.  the table’s occupant didn’t spare you a glance as you took your time sauntering over to her.  you knew she must be able to hear the loud clicking of your heels against the marble floor, especially among the off-putting silence, but her eyes were fixed on the sights of the city behind the glass wall.  located on the top floor of a skyscraper, the entire skyline was visible through the glass walls of the restaurant.  it was an especially astounding sight in the dark hours of the night when the city glowed brighter than the stars in the sky.

only when you placed a perfectly manicured hand over the cream tablecloth did she turn her head to look at you.

“and for a second i thought he might actually show up,” you said, still standing over her.  you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth.  “i should’ve known better.”

one of the waiters seemingly appeared out of nowhere to pull your chair out for you.  you gave him a smile and your thanks before you took your seat and he disappeared into oblivion.

“roderick always has to send one of the minions to do his bidding,” you said, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in your chair.

“please, my father has much better things to do than deal with your antics,” camille said, reaching for her wine glass.  her gaze was as sturdy as you remembered.

“and you don’t?”

“apparently not,” she said before taking a sip.  “but you should thank me actually because he could’ve sent froderick instead.”

“you’re right, what a bore” you said.  you suddenly leaned forward and rested your elbows on the tabletop. you pushed yourself so close to her that your chin hovered just above the candle in the center of the table.  your face was illuminated so desirably by the light that camille wouldn’t have dreamt of taking her eyes off of you.  “thank you, camille,” you said, almost in a whisper.  the silkiness of your voice and the slight pout of your lips tempted and teased her.  she knew exactly what you were doing yet you were still undeniably persuasive.

it wasn’t until you abruptly returned to your original position that she was pulled out of your trance.

“you're welcome,” she said plainly, adjusting herself in her seat.

the server brought over two identical hors d'oeuvres before scurrying back to the kitchen.

“but i’d like to think you enjoy my antics.  you must like me a little if you keep agreeing to this,” you said with a knowing smile.

“i’m only here because the rest of my siblings are too incompetent to do…well, anything really,” she said, disinterestedly poking at the food with her fork.

“don’t lie to me.  no one—not even your father—tells you what to do.  you’re here because you want to be.  and because you like me, don’t you?”

camille looked up from her food only to glare at you through hooded eyes.  she hated your smug little smile and the way it made her feel.

“aww, come on, say it.  say you like me.  make me feel good,” you said, placing your hands over your chest.

as much as she would deny it, a little part of her brain wondered how good she could make you feel.  especially when you looked as good as you did, all dolled up for her in that red dress.  her eyes followed your hands which laid just above the hem.  it was only then that she realized you had worn the same dress for your vanity fair cover last month.  oh to be a fly on the wall during that shoot.

“i didn’t think a woman like you would need so much validation,” camille said, finally taking a bite.  “but look at you being a pathetic little praise pony.”

maybe you were going crazy but you could’ve sworn you saw a smile itching at her lips.  and that made you smile.

“i only want praise from you.”

she looked back up at you and you pursed your lips in an exaggerated pout.  if only she knew how serious you were.

“well, you won’t be getting any.  not tonight, at least,” she said.

your eyebrows jumped at that last part, intrigued by her suggestion.

“are you implying-”

“i’m not implying anything,” she quickly interrupted, predicting your every move.  “are you?”

“depends.”  you reached for your wine glass and took a long, thoughtful sip as you basked in the moment of silence you had created.  you ignored camille’s expectant stare for you to finish your thought and let her sit with the possibilities of what you meant.

“i mean, you take me out on these expensive dinner dates, rent out restaurants for me, and expect me not to feel special?  you do this for all of your girls?”

she scoffed at you.  your attitude would be irritating if you were any other person.

“you flatter yourself too much,” she said, leaning forward.  “if i wanted you, i would already have you,” she said with a self-assured nod and a tight, smug smile.  typically that assertive tone left no room for argument, no matter how true or untrue her statement was.  but that was never the case with you.

“oh, don’t lie to me, camille,” you said, leaning in to match her posture.  “i know you’re like your father: intimidated by powerful women.”

camille’s eyebrows shot up, surprised by your sheer audacity, but her eyes and smile still held an element of amusement.  not often was she curious—because in most situations she already knew too much—but the cunning look in your eyes pushed her toward that unfamiliar feeling.

“what else do you think you know about me?” she said, placing her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand as if she had all day.

“oh, just the regular things.  i know that you’re lucky number five,” you said, holding up and wiggling five fingers.  “i know that you and frederick are the only ones who are staying in the family business.  i know…that you’re bright and very good at what you do.”

she was barely listening, lost in your face and your hypnotizing eyes that never strayed from hers.  your words were blending together in her head, turning her brain to mush as she silently admired you in your natural state.  

it was your power that had intoxicated her.  not necessarily your business status or bank account, but the way you carried yourself.  the two of you were alike in that way.

“and that’s why it’s strange that he’s next in line for CEO while you’re slaving away in the basement being daddy’s sock puppet.”

that statement sobered her up quick.  you knew you struck a nerve when her brows pulled down and her eyes narrowed.  she wasn’t hard to offend.

“god, i can’t believe saffron hasn’t crashed and burned because clearly you don’t know a damn thing about business,” she spat, teeth showing and venom oozing from her lips.  “fortunato wouldn’t be a thing if it wasn’t for me cleaning up everyone’s load of dogshit.  you don’t even know how much dumb fuckery i have to deal with; my father—my entire family owes me.”

“relax, camille,” you said in your smooth tone, unphased by her aggression, your lips daring to quirk into a smile.  “that’s exactly what i’m saying; they don’t give you enough credit for what you do.”

suddenly camille was a bit lost as she was unable to figure out what your angle was.  you now sounded so genuine that it was off putting.  she had been so used to your play-fighting and exaggerated lust that she almost didn’t know how to take a real compliment from you.  almost.

“thank you,” she said, pushing her back over her shoulder and averting her eyes toward the window.  she was slightly embarrassed by her unwarranted, short-lived blow-up but made her best attempt to play if off.

“i mean, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to understand that your brother’s a flamboyant idiot.  i mean, i think i actually lose brain cells when he opens his mouth,” you said, smiling to yourself.  “but, even if you’re playing for the other team, i can admit that you’re impressive.  you’ve made yourself indispensable to fortunato.  you’re twice the man he’ll ever be.”

camille tried to restrain herself but a smile spilled onto her lips. it ranked among the top compliments she had ever received.  half because she knew it was true and the other half simply because it was coming from you.

your heart jumped, her rare show of warmth encouraging you to continue.

“i mean, just think about all that you could do if only you were given the means.  anywhere you are is already a force to be reckoned with, but with you at the top of the ladder, fortunato would be impenetrable.”

“cut the crap,” camille said, remnants of a smile still playing on her lips.  “what are you actually trying to say?”

she analyzed every twitch of your expression for a hint.

“what? i can’t just admire you?” you asked, tilting your head to the size and studying her as if she was a prized work of art.

she was a work of art.

she licked her lips, enjoying your adoring gaze.

“save it for the bedroom, y/n,” she said so casually, clasping her hands on the table.  your stomach churned at the thought, your mind drifting.  “i’m the one who called you here but you talk like there’s something on your mind.”

“just you.  always you, actually,” you said.  your smile was smaller and more thoughtful this time.

you had assumed that, with the court case looming, camille had come to broker a deal with you.  as the CEO of a competing pharma company that was in good standing with the public, fortunato could greatly improve their image and reliability by partnering with your company, saffron.  it was an obvious move, one you had predicted months before.  you had just been waiting for the ushers to finally approach you.  and in that time, you had developed a risky counterattack.

she was silent, her eyebrows raised and her lips pressed together, attempting to coax a response out of you.  you breathed deeply and then you gave her what she wanted.

“maybe your father doesn’t appreciate you, but i would appreciate you so much.”

your emphasis was telling.  you would never directly say what you meant but camille always understood.  though there was a hint of something else lacing your strong voice this time.  something not entirely sensual.

“appreciate?  now what could you possibly mean by that?”  she asked, wondering if your promise was simply flirtatious or if there was a deeper meaning behind it.

you chuckled and then you sighed, chastising her lack of deduction with the shake of your head.  your fingers danced across the tablecloth like a spider crawling toward camille.

“you really can’t take a hint, can you?”

she rolled her eyes at your rebuke.  meanwhile you leaned toward her, bracing yourself with your elbows on the table.

“you need to leave your father.  and then i’ll make you mine,” you said.  she was about to laugh but then she noticed your gaze.  it was uncharacteristically straight and serious.  that’s what made her realize that you weren’t joking.

 “i mean that, if you leave fortunato, there will be a spot waiting for you at saffron.  and i can guarantee you that it’s a much higher one than you currently hold.  how does president sound?  maybe even COO if you can charm the board.”

she immediately scoffed at you.

“you’re out of your goddamn mind, you know that?” she said, appalled by your request.  still, it was a better reaction than you were expecting.  “i…wh-what about the will, huh?  i’d just betray my entire family and get cut off?”

“well, first of all, we both know you couldn’t give a single fuck about your ‘family’.  it’s not like they raised you. and as for the will, it won’t matter in the end.  you’ll be making more than all of your siblings combined working under me.”  you subtly flashed her the diamonds on your fingers as proof.  “ten or twenty million more won’t even make a dent in your back account.  you’ll be the richest woman in the world. and do you know why?”

you stuck your chin up at her and smiled fully.  she watched anxiously as the long expanse of your neck revealed itself to her and your eyelashes fluttered majestically.

“because you’ll have me.  all to yourself.”

camille’s chin lowered, looking up at you through her own eyelashes as if to question the validity of your statement.  you nodded reassuringly.

“what are you waiting for?  i mean, fortunato is only on the decline.  it’s time to do something good for once and jump ship,” you said.

you paused, noticing the hesitation behind her blue eyes.  it seemed that she was actually considering your proposal.  so you decided to lay the seduction on heavy.

“there’s nothing left for you at fortunato.  but everything you could have is sitting right here,” you said, confidently motioning toward yourself.  “i mean, come on, baby, look at this face and tell me you don’t want it, this body,” you said, smoothing out your dress.

the wrinkle in her brow and the slight gap between her lips was telling. that distant yet focused look in her eye told you that daydreams were whisking her off to far away places.  she was imagining what her alternate life would be like, what it would feel like, what you would feel like. she was clearly conflicted.

“well, i’ll give you some time to think about,” you said, abruptly standing up from your chair.  she didn’t protest as you picked up your half full wine glass.  “in the meantime, don’t be a stranger,” you said, leaving her with a final smug smile.

you intentionally swayed your hips as you retreated from the restaurant, taking your wine to-go, reminding her that she would be stupid not to take you up on your offer.

“until we meet again.”

#camille l'espanaye x reader #camille usher #camille l'espanaye #the fall of the house of usher #tfothou #tfothou x reader #house of usher #house of usher x reader #fall of the house of usher #the fall of the house of usher x reader #fall of the house of usher x reader #mike flanagan #flanaverse #kate siegel

[the-fandom-abyss]

Inevitable

Verna x Reader

Genre: Angst ❀

Word Count: 647 words

Gif: here

A/N: I do apologise if this is not up to standard. I was inspired by the gif and wrote this in under 20 minutes so please forgive me

1k Follower Celebration

Verna sought comfort in the space next to you, anchoring her to the moment to come. She had wrestled with herself, weighing the choices that were locked in place. For once, there was a consequence of a deal that she didn’t approve. If she could have foreseen what was to come, who you would become, she would have never made the deal. Never sealed the Usher name in blood. She took a deep, staggered breath before her eyes poured into yours. “There is a lot about my job I love. But there are moments like these that bring me no joy, I hope you know that” The tone of her voice was enough to communicate it was final. It created a wave of mixed emotions, on one hand you were relieved the time had finally come after the horrors you have faced. On the other hand, you were terrified of what lies on the other side, what would be greeting you as your eyes closed.

“So it’s time?” Verna soaked in the worry that was laced in your words, offering a comforting hand on top of yours.

“I fear that it is”

“Then so be it” Her hand squeezed yours in understanding. She admired the calm that came with the acceptance, there was no bargaining or anger. She was met with a quiet nod and a squeeze of her hand in return.

“I left you till last darling, I was selfish in my work but a deal is a deal. I can’t honour that until you have been put to rest”

“I understand, we knew this was inevitable” with your eyes cast down, you tried your best to hide the tears that flowed down your cheeks. It was a sign of weakness that did not need to be shared in the final hour.

Verna raised her hand and placed it under your chin, gently tilting your head back to eye level.“And yet I couldn’t help but fall for a beauty that I can’t have” the words were softly spoken, filled with all the emotion she could manage.

“You will always have all of me Verna. I don’t regret a single moment and if I had the choice to do it all over, I would choose you in a heartbeat”

A gravelly chuckle escaped Verna’s lips with a small shake of her head. “Always the romantic, my love” She was amused by your statement, knowing that you were sincere from start to finish.

“Even faced with death”

“I will cherish this time with you and know that decades will pass but you will always be with me” a single tear fell down the apple of her cheek, for death it weeps in the face of love.

“I love you Verna” the world stood still, if only for a moment. The whistle of the wind outside was enough of an indication that the would hadn’t stopped. Verna leant forward, slowing closing the gap between you.

“I love you” the last thought was of the woman that had changed your life. The last vision was of pure love with a glint of sadness hidden behind orbs of green, sealed in a soft kiss to your temple. Her hand gently held the back of your head as she lowered you down on to the bed. In the time after, she tucked you in, like she had many nights before your final slumber. She surrounded you in items that you adored, knowing that it would bring you comfort. Even if an item or two was missing as a token of the time you spent together. She was sentimental in that way, searching for trinkets from tragedies she had caused. This time was different, she had taken a life that she had wished she hadn’t. Death will always be for many more to come but none will be as important as you.

#verna #verna imagine #verna x reader #the fall of the house of usher imagine #the fall of the house of usher x reader #tfothou x reader #tfothou imagine

[sawyerconfort]

dancing with the devil | verna x reader

I'm back!!!

this one is just a spooky season special, as I've been away for all these days and haven't done one yet, I thought it would be cool to do it now!

this oneshot comes a lot from my obsession with Mike Flanagan's work, which even led me to watch The Fall of the House of Usher recently.

and, of course, it also comes from my obsession with Carla Gugino.

so, I hope you like it!

late requests coming out soon, so stay tuned!

enjoy!

requests open, but please be patient with me.

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

PROMPT: It's New Year's Eve, and you find yourself in a bar, completely alone, with no one to give you the good luck's kiss. But a mysterious new barista catches your eye, and she could be your salvation, if only she didn't hide so many secrets.

***

You weren't one to complain, but it had been a pretty horrible year.

People generally await the New Year with a lot of ambition, full of resolutions, glamorous plans and self-centered achievements. But you do not.

You just wanted the next one to be better.

As if the miserable conditions you were experiencing at Fortunato were not enough, not being paid enough for the effort you made, sitting at the reception desk at the behest of the great Rufus Griswold - who did nothing except try to harass you in every way -, in a routine exhausting where you could never sleep properly, you still had your parents, and the terrible relationship you had with them.

So, when you sat at that bar, at the lonely counter, all you thought about was stuffing yourself until you pass out, hoping for a counting miracle. Some people were getting along well when you arrived, and others were giving you side-eye, but with the thought that you were less attractive to them, you decided that the counter would be the best option.

Suddenly, those eyes that looked yellow from afar fell on you, and the figure that carried them turned around, with a subtle smile.

"I see someone needs a drink, hm?"

You looked at her, and shrugged, before answering. "Just today. I can't drink, I still have work tomorrow."

She continued to smile, and you had the slight impression that her eyes had returned to their normal color. Clear, deep and very eye-catching. But it could just be the impression, because you were too exhausted to make sense.

"Ah, I understand. Just a minute, I'll prepare something relaxing for you, miss…"

"(Y\N)."

She nodded, turning away and concentrating on preparing whatever the drink was. Like I said before, you were too tired to care about what drink you were going to drink. If you could just get to New Year with something in your throat, that would be a good idea.

After minutes that felt like seconds of waiting, the barista turned to you, two shiny glass cups in her hands. She was still smiling subtly as she slid your glass and turned hers in her other hand.

She served you with the same smile, and then looked at you. "It's funny, I can see there's something wrong with you... Something that's stopping you from celebrating tonight."

You looked back at her, frowning, and sighing afterwards.

"It's true, it was... It wasn't a very good year", you commented, feeling terrible for venting to a stranger. "But the year ahead will be better, I know that."

"And why is that? Why was it so bad?"

"My boss, my work... everything makes me exhausted... and not having anyone to talk to is really bad at these moments...", You took a sip. "Um, that's great, is it Merlot?"

"It's Merlot, but it's not one of the best...", the barista said, tapping her glass still. "I've seen and experienced better, around the world."

"Have you been around the world?", you asked, unable to resist your curiosity. She smiled and nodded. "Where did you go? On that expedition?"

"I've been there too, but not just on this occasion", she said, and suddenly stopped, as if she were saying too much. "You know, it's interesting, being on the other side. Sometimes it's tiring, it breaks my heart, but... It's good, there are things there that are worth the effort."

You were more intrigued. She didn't look like the type of person who would travel around the world, wearing black clothes and a gothic look, as if she wanted to hide on purpose. Generally, these trips are made for people who want to be seen, above all else in the world.

"What are you talking about, exactly?"

"Have you ever had a dream... a desire... a deep, hidden desire that no one has ever fulfilled, and that you yourself didn't imagine you could achieve?", she looked at you with the same curiosity as you. "I'm like... A dream maker. I go on these trips just for that..."

You frowned, still not understanding, but took another sip to hide it, nodding.

"Are you the personification of the genie in the lamp?"

She laughed. "Ah, I would like to, but no. It would be a lot of ego on my part, but I would say that I'm better than him", she laughed. "Verna is my name, but the name never makes that much of a difference to me."

“Different name, never heard it before,” you said, drinking again. "Are you from here?"

"I'm from nowhere. I'm everywhere, at all times... it's strange, I know, but it makes sense to me."

You nodded, finding it strange. And then, he found it even stranger when she helped herself to the Merlot on the counter and drank some. She smiled at you, still tapping the glass.

"But what about you, (Y/N)? Do you have any desires that you thought would be unrealizable, unattainable? Please be honest with me."

You opened your mouth, and then thought a little. "No. I think I'm happy this way. Except for a few little things that I would change here and there..."

She softened her gaze and took a sip, her clear eyes suddenly yellowed again and wide, fixed on you. "What kind?"

“Like, my boss giving me the justice I deserve, and stop hitting on me,” you laughed, drinking the last sip and pouring yourself again. "Not much."

"Your boss is too terrible for you, (Y/N)," Verna replied, smiling. "Don't ask me how I know this, but I do. One day someone will show him what's really good, don't worry."

You frowned. "You seem so sure, are you some kind of psychic?"

She laughed. "No. I would like to be, but no. I... I see people's possibilities. And that's it. I help them based on the possibilities."

She stared at you again, and looked away at the TV, where the ball was falling on the screen in Times Square.

"Oh, it looks like it's almost time," she whispered, laughing. "Your year is going to be great, (Y/N), I'll make sure of that."

“You…” you started, but she shushed you, smiling.

"You just have to make a deal with me."

"What kind of deal?"

Verna thought for a while, and then smiled. "Wow, you seem so sure..."

She was mocking you, of course, you realized right away, and with a muffled laugh, you glanced back at the TV, hearing people echoing a countdown. The ball finally reached its destination, and you turned around, seeing Verna's yellow eyes glued to yours again. She suddenly leaned over and stole a peck from you, taking a little too long to pull away.

“Was that your deal?”, you whispered, smiling mischievously. Verna took a moment to open her eyes and then tilted her head, as if agreeing.

She thought for a while and then finally said, her voice low, slowly close to your ear, as if she wanted to seduce or bewitch you. She had one of the softest voices you'd ever heard, and apparently she knew how to use it.

"Actually, it was a plan to find out if you were trustworthy, if you were innocent enough to accept my deal…", she whispered. "And because I know, deep down, that what you wanted most was to be kissed on New Year's Eve, my sweet client."

You trailed off, looking at her, getting lost in the soft expression on her pale face. Suddenly, an impulsive idea occurred to you, and you leaned in again, kissing her, this time with more intensity. When you touched her hair, behind the back of her head, you had the impression that it melted at the touch, as if Verna were just an illusion, as if she were the literal cosmic dust from which human beings possibly emerged.

However, the kiss didn't last long. She pushed you away with her feather-light hands, and to the naked eye, it looked like it was just a breeze of wind stopping you both. She touched your face, running her fingers lightly across your cheek as she whispered:

"We can't do that right now, (Y\N). I'm afraid you're not sober enough, and it wouldn't be wise for me to take advantage of this."

You looked at it for a moment and realized it made sense. But she had kissed you first, so it was clearly just an excuse, as always happened. You started to wonder if your kiss was that bad.

"But, Verna…"

"Please, darling. I'm trying to be reasonable. Like I said, I work with possibilities, and the possibility of us working out is less than zero. Don't get me wrong, it's just in case…", she hesitated. "Condemning pure-souled humans to my cruel and inevitable fate wouldn't be extremely political of me."

You sighed, and gave her the space she needed, even though you couldn't take your eyes off her. Verna was the same, and you could feel that, despite what it seemed like, that moment you shared wasn't just fun, much less just a New Year's kiss.

Verna poured you the rest of the Merlot and, with the same soft expression, touched your face again. This time, her voice was clear, and in a moment of vulnerability, she made it more than explicit that she wasn't lying when she said:

"But we'll still meet, (Y\N)," she whispered, her fingers again like soft feathers touching his skin. "Our deal may not have been sealed, but you've proven enough innocence and courage to convince me that you're capable of this. You'll have a great new job, I promise, and your boss will never bother you again."

She nodded, and you allowed yourself to nod too, so confused that you definitely didn't know what to believe anymore. There was a little devil on your shoulder urging you to try again, and there was another devil, right in front of you, who would be harder to convince than you expected.

"And of course, you will have my full protection," Verna whispered, smiling. "I'm not going to promise you eternal life, because that would be impossible even for someone like me. But I promise, and I need you to believe me on this one, I promise that I will move mountains so no one will hurt you again."

You smiled, and drank the last sip. Suddenly, another impulse. This time, a question, instead of an action.

"What are you? An angel? A genie without a lamp? A tempting devil who seeks souls and deals?"

Verna smiled, and simply looked away at her glass again, magically empty. "I already told you. I'm nothing, I don't have a life. I'm just what your mind wants me to be."

You were confused, but suddenly, a memory hit you hard. When you looked at Verna, it was as if she already knew.

"I really need to go. My mom will be furious if I get home late, even on New Year's..."

She nodded. "Please don't take any chances. This part, I won't be able to protect you."

You laughed, stood up and slid out the only dollar bill you had. Verna looked at the ballot, he turned it around and handed it back to you, denying it.

"No need. The bill is already paid."

"What?"

"Please don't insist. I insist."

You looked at her, shrugged, and frowned, suddenly realizing that maybe it was for the best. She kept watching you, until you left, and as soon as you turned outside, on the street, you noticed who had just walked through a solid wall.

The bar was gone.

And she was gone too.

Even more confused - and blaming the drink -, you put your hands in your pockets to protect yourself, and walked back home, into the daylight. As soon as you crossed the street, however, another very curious thing caught your attention.

There was a raven, standing still, resting on a post. It was just any raven, but it was a raven, and it looked down at you. Suddenly, you had the impression that he had winked at you.

"What nonsense. Ravens don't blink," you whispered to yourself, looking at the raven again. He remained there, standing still, as if he hadn't even noticed you. Deciding to ignore that crazy night, you turned around.

As you disappeared down the street, you whispered to yourself once again.

"Ravens don't blink."

Oh, but if you only knew that they do more than blink... If you only knew...

#lgbt #romance #oneshot #imagine #fluff #angst #the fall of the house of usher #tfothou x reader #carla gugino #carla gugino x reader #verna x reader #I love verna I would make deals with her for sure #this year's spooky season is finally out! #yes I'm back who cheered #requests coming soon

[madwomansapologist]

holiday season | tamerlane usher

Navigation | More Tamerlane Usher | AO3

synopsis: You're not the type to step on bussiness, but you won't be in a place where everyone stinks like hatred. You thought Tamerlane would understand it. Maybe she is used to the stench. Maybe she is part of it.

warnings: marriage problems. family problems. angst. hurt/comfort. kiss and make up.

A week felt like centuries. The more you wanted for the holidays to end so you could go back to your home, slower the time passed. All alone, you found yourself recalling about Tolstoy. That bastard really never missed. Each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

Your family isn't one of those from margarine adds. You have your fights, moments you would rather eat your boot then talk to one of them, but the love is there. People commit mistakes, do awful things knowing they're awful, but the love was there still.

You don't see any love between the Ushers.

There is devotion, of course. Roderick and his money, Madeline and her influence. Their accomplishments serve as inspiration, and their respect means everything. There is devotion, envy, but you don't see love.

Siblings are meant to fight over the smalest things, but you worry they might actually hate one another. You wouldn't say that aloud, but you don't think that love isn't just not being showed: you think it's not there at all.

In between the walls of the mansion, the most used word is bastard. You thought it was disgusting, judged them, until you couldn't blind yourself from truth anymore.

Tamerlane uses it too.

You don't like what being with her family does to Tamerlane. She gets mean. Cruel. She acts as if she was better than others, on a higher place than those common people.

That's one of the reasons why you didn't want to spend Christmas at the mansion. And also one of the reasons why she'd been yelling at you for the last five minutes.

"Those people are fucking idiots, useless fucking idiots. Don't defend them. They don't fucking deserve it."

If the mansion wasn't so wide you would be afraid of others hearing everything. Still, shame covered your face. Tamerlane made it look like you were running away from her, betraying her in some way.

"Does that mean you need to act like that? C'mon, Tammy. 'Bastards'? Do you truly think that's how siblings are supposed to treat one another? Do you truly think I'm wrong for not wanting to spend my time in this awful place?"

"Frederick is my only brother, not the rest," Tamerlane pointed at you. Frustrated, you sat down in the bed. "Don't you ever say that again."

You raised your hands, surrendering. "It doesn't change the fact that I don't want to be here anymore. Can't you see how this place changes you? How it changes everyone?"

"Are you really going to let me here? Look, we have plans here. Froderick won't..."

"I'm asking you to go home with me," you held her hands. Looking deep into her eyes, you tried to soothe her. "Tammy, you don't want to be here. You're an adult. Fuck what Roderick or Madeline want from you. Let's go somewhere better."

For a second you thought she would agree. But Tamerlane let your hands go, and you had to accept the truth.

"I can't."

You sighed. "I'm leaving. The only real question is if I'll go alone or with my wife."

Tamerlane laughed. The same way she does when Victorine or Camille open their mouths. It was mean, cruel. Not at all like the Tamerlane you fell in love with. Sometimes you wonder if you created her on your mind. "So step right out."

The Ushers are prideful to a fault, but so are you. You didn't even took your clothes from the wardrobe. Your phone was on your pockets, car key on the bedside table. At least it wouldn't take you long.

Without saying another word, you left Tamerlane behind.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Tamerlane expected you to cease the fire. She thought you would call her, maybe come back in the middle of the night before anyone noticed you left, pretend that nothing happened. She was sure you would come back to her.

But you didn't.

She gave you time, space, but you didn't reach back for her. Tamerlane swore to herself to not go after you, but in the middle of the night your name glow in the screen of her phone. You ignore the call.

What were you doing? Where were you? Hearing Camille and Victorine fighting over something stupid, she wondered if you were spending christmas alone.

Tamerlane didn't told anyone she was going home. Part of her didn't even knew where she was driving towards. She just did, guilt filling her mind. Tamerlane couldn't sleep without you.

She found you watching Malcolm, a bowl with junk food in your hands. You saw her, but said nothing. Tamerlane sat beside you, the silence acting as daggers against her skin.

"You shouldn't eat this," she murmured. "We have real, healthy food here. You Goldbug Box must be..."

"Do I look like I care, Tamerlane?"

She breathed deep. "I'm sorry."

That earned a glance from you. "For what? Yelling at me at your father's house? Leaving me alone during Christmas? Being just overall cruel?"

"I don't... Everything. I'm sorry about everything. I'm just... I was too scared to leave, and too scared to be without you. I shouldn't have acted like that."

You gave another bite on your burger. "That's better."

"Do you forgive me?"

You had to fight back a smile. She went after you, and admitted to be in the wrong for once. You want Tammy to do better, but this is a starting point. "Sure," you told her. "Want me to restart the episode?"

Tamerlane took of her shoes and sat back down. She stole one of your fries and put her head on your shoulder. "No need," she looked at you. You were smiling. Good. "I'll probably sleep."

"Good night," you kissed her lips. "And good dreams."

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

GENERAL TAGLIST: @lovelyy-moonlight

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

#madwomansapologist #the fall of the house of usher x reader #the fall of the house of usher #the fall of the house of usher imagine #tfothou #tfothou x reader #tamerlane usher #tamerlane usher x reader #samanthasloyanedit #samantha sloyan

[multific]

Selfish

Prospero Usher x Reader

SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES - This is your only warning!

Summary: When you got the call saying that your exboyfriend was badly injured after a rave, you rushed to the hospital.

His entire family was dead, every one of them.

But before that, there was you.

You, a simple girl, and him, a rich asshole.

It was meant to be a typical love story, your Cinderella story.

But it was cut short.

You had enough of his behaviour about two years into your relationship.

When all the drugs started. When all the men and women started to flood his home. 

When your home became a junkie palace.

In the beginning, you tried to enjoy it, you wanted to stay by his side, so of course you stayed.

But then, you had enough and left.

Your heart broke, you had to leave him, but it was the best for both of you.

The arguments stopped, he could be who he wants to be, and you, you went back to work.

But then, one day, you met a woman.

She promised you that she would save Prospero in exchange for something of yours.

At first, you laughed at her, but then, the things she told you, you took her deal.

The Usher bloodline was supposed to end. A debt was to be paid, but you got the chance to save him.

And you took the deal.

The deal, a life for a life.

You sacrifice someone near and dear in order to save him.

You were confused if this mysterious woman even knew about your mother, and what she had done. She must know.

And yet, she wanted her.

So, you agreed.

You agreed to give up your drunken, abusive mother, for your ex who rather hosts an orgy.

Yet, you never expected to get the call about him and his injuries.

Prospero needed a caretaker and his father directly asked for you before his death.

You were stunned.

But you also knew you had no choice. 

So, you were there when he was still in the hospital, you were there when he was let out of the hospital.

And, you lived in his apartment now. You cooking him breakfast, which he barely touched.

He didn’t look at you, during the day, didn’t even acknowledge your presence most of the time.

But you were okay with that.

And during the nights, you slept in the same bed. His huge bed, which you were sure would blind people under a UV lamp. 

And yet you slept in it.

It wasn’t like he didn’t have another room, but you preferred to be close since he woke up many times due to pain and you had to give him meds.

You changed the bandages on his shoulders and arms.

He didn’t say a single word.

Until one day.

You were in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the two of you when he came out of his bedroom.

“You really are a desperate bitch. What have you done to my father so he would make sure you are included in his will?”

You turned at looked at Prospero.

No word came out of your mouth, his words were so hurtful.

“I mean, you must have done something.”

“He called me, he told me that you are in need of help.”

“I threw you out long before that tho.”

“You sure did. You threw me out because I was too normal, because I didn’t fit into this… madness of yours.” you said, anger slowly getting the better of you.

“Madness? You were just too plain. Like some unseasoned chicken! I wanted to have fun, I wanted to have more! More than anyone could ever have.”

“And look where that took you.” he scoffed at your response.

“And look at you, Y/N. My father paid you for all of this, and you so obediently came to my rescue, right?” your anger blinded you by his words. It was all money money money, with him. 

You hated that.

“Even if your father didn’t pay, I would have.”

“Don’t make me laugh!” he yelled.

“I would have because I love you, Prospero.” there it was. All of your feelings and frustrations on a plate, served right to him. “For the last year, all I have been doing is reading every fucking article, I created fake profiles so I can check your social media. I even went to the clubs you went to because I wanted to see you. I love you, and I know I could have never been enough for you. I didn’t fit into this world of yours. I told you, I don’t share, I don’t compromise. I wanted you all to myself. I do agree with you. I am pathetic. I truly believed I could help you.”

“You came into my life again after I told you to fuck off. You spend your days here, cooking, playing house-wife or whatever and then during the night you sleep next to me and cuddle me just like you used to.”

“As I said, I agree with you, I’m pathetic.” you said as tears fell from your eyes, you quickly whipped them. “I will leave you alone. You healed enough already, you can take it from here.” you stormed into the bathroom, crying as you put your stuff into your bags.

“What are you doing?” he came in after you, watching you throwing your things away.

“I’m leaving. You won’t have to deal with my pathetic ass anymore. You can call as many whores as you wish.”

“Stop calling yourself that! I never said you were pathetic!”

“Do you know, what I went through? Do you know what I gave up to save you?! I gave her my mother and my sister! For your life! And you call me a desperate bitch? I am one okay? I am so desperately in love with you, it blinded my judgement.” you said with all the anger you had inside.

“What are you talking about?” he asked with a confused voice.

“Nothing.” you said as you closed your suitcase.

“You never loved me, you loved my money or rather, my father’s money.” you chuckled. 

“Just how much did all those drugs fuck up your mind? Or was it one of your many lovers convincing you so they can feast on your money? Use your fucking brain Perry.” you grabbed your bags and went to leave but he followed you.

“What did you mean you gave up your sister for my life?” his tone was now a lot calmer. But when you didn’t answer him, he grabbed your wrist and made you turn around, you looked at him and he noticed the tears in your eyes. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore. It was an exchange. And I agreed.” you whispered as his fingers moved from your wrist to your palm and locked with your fingers.

You could tell he was confused, of course he was.

You were confused yourself.

You looked at him, eyes meeting his.

“Is that… is that why I don’t have any withdrawal from the… drugs?” he asked and you nodded. “Is that why I got out of an acid rain?” you nodded again. “Why?” came his last question.

“Because I love you.” your answer was simple yet true. He pulled you into a hug.

His arms tightened around you.

“Thank you.” he whispered into your hair and you nearly broke down crying. “I’m not letting you go ever again.”

“I know.” you said.

You would have to live with this guilt. With the fact that he wouldn’t have been in love with you. Truth was, you really sold your sister for his love and not his life. In exchange for his love, so he would forever be in love with you, never leave you, and never cheat on you. You sacrificed something great.

But maybe the woman was right, humans are very selfish.

And you proved her just right.

In case you want to help out a dreamer: patreon.com/multific  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS 

#prospero usher #prospero usher x reader #prospero usher imagine #prospero usher imagines #prospero usher fanfic #prospero usher fanfiction #perry usher #perry usher x reader #perry usher x you #perry usher fanfic #perry usher imagine #perry usher imagines #the fall of the house of usher #tfothou #flanaverse #x female reader #x reader #tfothou spoilers #fall of the house of usher #the fall of the house of usher imagine #the fall of the house of usher imagines #the fall of the house of usher fanfic #the fall of the house of usher fanfiction

[denaliwrites]

Tomorrow I Shall Be Fetterless

Verna x Fem!Usher!Reader

Catch & Release Prompt: "Poison"

Summary: (18+) You always were the smartest of the Usher children. Perhaps, just this once, you were a little too smart, yet not smart enough.

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Implied / Referenced Stalking. Depression. Hints of Neglect & Resentment. Oral (F Receiving). Vaginal Fingering. Overstimulation. Vomitting. Unwitting / Unintentional Suicide. Character Death.

You had seen the pattern. The writing on the wall. The dark looming shadow of death swallowing each of you up, one by one. It drove you crazy, how none of the others seemed to get it. Why didn't they get it?

If there was an answer for you somewhere out there, you knew it lay beyond the veil. And you only knew this because, soon, inevitably, your time would be up, and there just simply wasn't enough time left for you to figure out why all your siblings were fucking idiots.

And maybe you were too, to some extent. You knew Death was coming for you, yet you were surprised when it arrived to take you.

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

You'd been struggling lately.

Long before your siblings started dropping like flies, an existential sadness had been gnawing away at your mental reserves. It drained you, exhausted you, made it nearly impossible for you to do... anything.

Your father tried to understand, and for that you supposed you owed him some credit. But trying wasn't the same thing as doing, and eventually he, as well as everyone else in your family, got tired of trying.

He even said as much, in the text he sent you.

And then your brothers and sisters started dying in horrific ways, seemingly by accident but uncoincidentally one after the other. Your father increased your security, knowing nothing about your struggles but for the fact you were a danger to yourself, but otherwise did nothing to try to help you.

You couldn't even call yourself the disappointment (Perry) or the black sheep (Leo) of the family. You were simply forgotten.

No one thought to call you to check up on you. The only person who'd bothered to text you out of any sense of concern was Leo. Camille had texted, too -- but it was only to prep you for the oncoming PR storm.

Now both of them were dead, and no one at all bothered to check in, not even a basic, minimal effort "u ok?" text.

So when there was a knock at your door, and you opened it to see a delivery girl holding a gorgeous (and huge) bouquet of assorted white flowers, you were pleasantly surprised.

The girl -- well, woman, and definitely a mature one -- wanted to chat, but when you gently explained that you weren't in the mood she seemed understanding, and it struck you how this random stranger you'd talked to for all of a minute was able to show you more compassion than your own family.

Speaking of, when you withdrew the card from the bouquet, you expected the Usher name, or the Fortunato logo at least, to be present somewhere. Instead, in beautiful calligraphy, you read From Your Biggest Fan.

You were quick to realize the implications, but too tired and overwhelmed to really care. If you had a stalker, dealing with it would have to wait -- you had infinitely bigger problems at the moment.

It helped a little, though, receiving that one small gesture of kindness, even if it was from someone with an unhealthy obsession with you.

You woke the next morning to the sounds of cooking emanating from your kitchen.

You were so tired that it didn't strike you as odd at first. Forgetting the past week, you thought maybe Leo had come by for a visit and decided to make breakfast while he waited for you to wake up.

When you finally stepped into the room, though, you weren't greeted by Leo, and just the sight of someone else reminded you that Leo -- your only ally in the family -- was dead.

In your kitchen, at your stove, with your spatula and your eggs, stood the delivery woman from the day before.

"I wasn't sure how you take your eggs," she said, tossing her head in your direction to offer you a smile. "I figured scrambled was a safe bet."

You looked at the array of foods laid out over your kitchen island, all surrounding that bouquet, now placed in a vase with water.

"You're my biggest fan?" And though you had asked, you knew that she was. You didn't need her confirmation, but she gave it anyway in the form of a pleased hum.

You weren't sure how to handle this situation.

Calling the cops could be dangerous, set the woman off and get you killed. But then, not calling them could get you killed, too. Contacting your family was almost certainly out of the question -- if Leo were still alive, you'd maybe have a chance. But with him gone... your only real hope was Tammy, and she... the kindest way to put it was "didn't care for you."

The woman was watching you, still smiling, when you looked up from your phone. The look she gave you was kind, sympathetic. Loving, almost, if not for the fact that she was a crazed stalker.

"It's okay," she said soothingly. "Please. Eat."

You had to admit, the food looked incredible. You didn't even remember having this much stuff in your house. Had she brought things to make for you?

She continued to watch you as you poured yourself coffee, handed you the creamer when you reached for it but couldn't quite get your hands on it, piled your plate high with pancakes and bacon and hashbrowns and eggs and seemingly a million other things.

She continued to watch you as you ate and drank it all up.

It was the most satisfying meal you'd ever had, and as an Usher that was saying something. Your life had been full of rich and lavish meals.

As your stomach filled and your eating slowed and eventually came to a stop, your eyes drifted to the bouquet in front of you. "Why white?" you asked, dropping your chin to rest on your hand.

"Isn't it lovely?" she returned your question with her own.

"Yes," you answered simply, admiring the flowers.

"You're quite lonely, aren't you?" she asked, gently.

"Yes," you answered again, this time with a sigh. "My family, they..."

"Don't understand?"

"No." You sighed again.

"I do."

The woman rounded the island, coming to stand before you. Her hands were on you near instantly -- nothing too risqué, one was on your shoulder and one was on your neck -- but it was the most you'd been touched in at least a year, maybe even more. You melted into it, releasing another sigh as those hands squeezed you comfortingly.

This stranger -- this woman who'd brought you beautiful flowers and then broken into your home and made you the most luxurious meal you'd ever had...

Just with one electric touch, you wanted her. No. Needed her. You felt it -- knew it -- all the way down into your soul.

You were suddenly standing, and you weren't sure if you had moved on your own or if she had moved you, but ultimately it didn't matter. Her lips were on yours, fevered and desperate. Her hands were winding in your hair, guiding you nearer. Everything she did to you was so tender, so caring and loving. Even just her kiss was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before.

She pulled you into the bedroom, pushed you onto your bed, and rid you of your clothes. It had to have taken time -- at least a minute, surely, but it felt like only a moment passed.

And then she was kneeling at the side of the bed, delicately lifting your legs and guiding them to rest over her shoulders. "Be a good girl for me, will you?" she teased, her breath dancing over your slit and sending a spark of pleasure into your gut.

You weren't sure if she could see you nod, but you did it anyway.

"Good girls speak up," she admonished gently, and you realized that she'd pulled away.

"Y-yes," you whimpered, desperate for her.

You heard her chuckle from between your legs and felt an immediate sense of relief.

"What do you want, little lamb?" she asked, and her breath on your cunt made you squirm in need.

"Y-you," you answered, honestly. "I d-don't care how."

Another chuckle, this one strikingly darker than the last, emanated from between your legs and seemed to echo around the room. A mere moment later and you felt a hot, wet tongue tease at your folds. You cried out, hips rolling in a desperate bid for more. Forcefully, a hand came to rest over your belly, pressing you down into the bed with surprising strength. Just as you gasped from the shock of it, her tongue dipped into your cunt.

"Oh, God," you keened, hips twitching under her hand. "Please..."

"Little lamb, are you already close?" Her voice was teasing, and chased by a sweet kiss to your clit.

"N-no," you whined. You could feel her lips pulling up in a smirk. "... Maybe," you confessed, worried she'd stop.

"Good girl," she praised you, and it took all your willpower not to drop over the edge right then and there. "You're being so good for me. Would you like to cum?"

"Yes... please..."

"Such a good girl."

She buried her face in your pussy, then, tongue playing at your entrance and lapping across your clit in random intervals that had you writhing desperately for release. Each tiny tidbit of attention pushed you closer, and at some point she gave up on keeping you still, as her hands had moved from pinning your hips to the bed to wrapping amorously around your thighs. While her tongue did wonders with your pussy, her hands massaged gentle patterns into the thin and tender flesh of your inner thighs.

"Cum for me, little lamb," she whispered, but somehow you heard her.

Her hands trailed from your thighs and up your belly until they found your own. She twined her fingers with your own, giving them a squeeze in a silent offer of support as your orgasm built and built.

You took the offer, your hands all but clinging as your climax tore through you. Your back arched dramatically as a scream pealed from your throat. Your legs quaked and tensed around her head, and for a brief moment you were worried you might crush her skull with your thighs before the thought was chased away by her lips and tongue sucking at your clit.

"F-fuck... fuck!" you cried, sobbed even, unbelievable pleasure coursing through you in waves.

It took what felt like ages for you to come down.

She didn't pull away until your last weak twitches came to a stuttering halt. The only thing moving your body after a few minutes was the heavy panting breaths heaving your chest heavenward.

The woman crawled up on the bed with you, her body hovering over yours. With the light spilling over her back and casting the rest of her in shadow, she looked almost demonic... but you didn't mind.

The slight glint to her eyes, however, sent a terrified thrill right through you -- and straight down into your core.

She seemed to recognize the spark of arousal in your eyes, as her expression shifted from one of relaxed ardor to one of wicked understanding.

"Already up for round two?" she asked before planting a biting kiss to your cheek.

Your hips involuntarily bucked as a moan escaped your hoarse throat. "Y-yes," you responded through it.

"What an eager little lamb," she teased, the hand not supporting her body grazing over your skin lightly. It ran over your breast, sending another shock of pleasure down into the growing well in your core. Over your belly, causing the tender flesh there to ripple. Over your pubic bone. And, finally, her hand found its way to your already soaked cunt. Fingers teased your folds, gliding smoothly along the slit before they were plunged inside.

You were so wet that you easily took her first two fingers and could've taken a third if she'd so chosen to grace you with it. She must've figured, and you agreed, that the two were enough.

The pads pressed at your G-spot exploratorily. When you wailed in ecstasy and gave a sharp buck of your hips, the woman chuckled and drove her fingers back into that spot, harder. And as she did so, her thumb circled your clit.

It was a merciless tirade of stimulation. Already sensitive from the previous orgasm, it didn't take nearly as much to send you back over the edge -- but she didn't relent upon your second release.

"You're being such a good girl," she murmured into your lips as her fingers hammered your G-spot, over and over again. "Such a good girl. You've got one more for me, don't you?"

You were sobbing, aching from the overstimulation and her battering your cunt to heavenly oblivion.

"Y-yes," you wailed anyway.

She drove her fingers home once again, and your slick-drenched walls clenched weakly around her until you were in the throes of another orgasm.

You barely heard her praise as she pulled her hand out of your cunt.

Your arms were around her, desperately clinging, body shaking with sobs and residual twitches from the orgasmic flood she'd unleashed on you.

Gently, she shushed you, her arms soft and firm around you. It took a lot of coaxing, but eventually she managed to untangle you from her body and lay you to rest on your bed.

"Sleep now, little lamb."

And you did.

You woke to sharp pains roiling in your gut, and a pounding heart.

The woman seemed to know something was wrong. She didn't seem concerned, but she was at your side all the same, stroking your hair.

"It's all right," she was saying, but you could only just hear her over the sound of your heart beating with worrying, dizzying power in your chest. It was almost enough to drive you mad, if not for the stomach pains warring for your attention.

"It's all right," she repeated.

You were going to be sick.

You managed to sit up before the feeling overwhelmed you. The woman pulled you to her chest, and didn't seem at all bothered when you released a torrent of half-digested breakfast foods all over her back.

"That's it," she cooed, stroking your back comfortingly.

You were not comforted.

"Wh-what--" You couldn't even finish your thought as another wave of intense nausea swamped your senses, driving you to heave yet more of the contents of your stomach over her shoulder.

"Don't worry," she said with a sigh. "It'll be over soon."

You weren't sure which part of this she meant. It certainly didn't feel like the vomiting would be over soon -- if anything, it felt like maybe that would go on forever. It was nonstop, even after you were sure there was nothing left for you to expel.

And your heart -- it continued to hammer away, showing no signs of settling. In fact, you were pretty sure that it was getting worse.

"I-I need--" You whimpered, pulling out of her embrace. Wobbly legs struggled to support you, but you somehow managed to stand and, using the walls for support, you made your way to the kitchen where you'd left your phone.

You heard the woman's padding footsteps behind you, following dutifully -- or, maybe more accurately, curiously.

You just made it to the island when your legs gave out, and she was right there to catch you, to keep you standing.

"It's okay," she said again.

"Wh-what did you d-do?" you barely managed before a wave of nausea sent you into a fit of dry heaves. She held you through it, keeping you afloat both physically and mentally.

"Only what you wanted. What you needed."

It was then, as your eyes glanced up, that you saw the bare stems laying on the counter, the handful of delicate white flowers littered around them -- the suspicious gaps in the bouquet where the flowers should've been.

"Amazing, isn't it?" she asked. You couldn't answer. Your heart -- you swore it was only seconds away from breaking out of your ribcage -- or bursting. "That such a pretty little flower could be so devastatingly lethal."

You whimpered, hands grasping at her arms as the realization of your impending death struck you.

"It's okay," she repeated again, stroking your hair lovingly. "Isn't this what you wanted?" There was no judgement in her voice, no cruelty and no pity. All along, she really had understood. "You've always craved freedom -- from your family, from the torment of your own existence." Your legs finally lost all use, and even she couldn't keep you standing anymore. You were lowered gently to the floor, held so tenderly in her arms. "Today you wear these chains, but tomorrow? You shall be fetterless."

"Tomorrow I shall be fetterless," you repeated, relief flooding your voice as the edges of unconsciousness closed in on your vision. The last thing you saw was her, and the last thing you heard was the stilling of your heart.

#verna x reader #verna x you #tfothou fic #tfothou fanfiction #the fall of the house of usher #the warnings on this fic are a wild ride #verna overcooked the cream #carla gugino #everyone say “thank you raz” for the idea #catch and release prompt #vernas a babe #sorry not sorry #for anyone curious the flower is oleander #bonus points if you guess what verna infused with it

[diana-prince-ww]

every day i search “madeline usher x reader” and every day there’s nothing 😔

(i’m gonna have to do it myself aren’t i??)

#madeline usher #madeline usher x reader #come on guysssssss #plsssssss #give me madeline usher romanceeeeeee #i love herrrrrrrr #tfothou

[cloveroctobers]

OCTOBER PROMPTS 🦇 — 10. Napoleon “Leo” Usher

A/N: where is the work for my man who’s gonna do it for me every time?! This series wasn’t my fav (better than the midnight club ofc! Argue amongst yourselves) but everything was executed very well! EAT THE RICH! Anyways I’ll probably do a re-watch at some point to appreciate it better. Look at me being back on my writing kick, someone bring me a treat and by treat I mean truffle fries. Alright this is kinda late and I usually never risk writing for any of Mike’s work but here I am. Hope this doesn’t flop but with the dust in this tag makes this very likely!! Okay ✌🏽

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & HERE + I’m using: A is afraid to get the Halloween decorations out of the attic or garage, fearing there’s bugs, which leaves B to do it. + Going to questionable lengths to decorate their house/apartment.

Synopsis: People can say a lot of things about Napoleon Usher but some may not be aware that he’s actually a homebody. However there’s a few places he doesn’t mind spending his time and that so happens to be at his best friend’s place, who also doesn’t mind actually putting him to work.

WARNINGS: Platonic x reader! language + dark themes/humor + mentions of s*ic*de + gender neutral friendly!

<- read my previous anthology prompt here.

⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️

[6 weeks before the fall…]

Second guessing.

That happened to be something that was always jammed into Rudelle Povea’s head ever since they were young. Their parents taught them to be curious when things didn’t feel right in their gut and many times that resulted in phone calls home for being, “too disruptive to others in class,” which really meant too annoying for teachers who just wanted to teach without mountains of inquires coming from this kid to being, “too smart-mouthed and a know it all for me,” from their maternal grandmother who eventually gained guardianship over Rudelle.

If something’s been instilled in you for the longest, it can become a habit—whether good or bad is always up for debate. Sure at times it made Rudelle feel as if they were being a bit indecisive but they always looked at life as one big question mark. They didn’t have to just simply take it for what was thrown at them. If they were prompted to question it all, then in a sense they were persuaded to see everything from all angles before going through with a final thought.

Rudelle wasn’t incapable of making a decision, never think that but they always needed all of the facts before going forth. For instance: take the death of Rudelle’s parents when they were only twelve years old back in the United Kingdom. Rudelle’s grandmother was not only controlling and cruel but she was also a really good liar that kept up with the tale of how Rudelle’s parents died. As if Rudelle would never get older and do a deep dive considering the career they went into as a pathologist assistant before Rudelle got laid off.

How convenient that they seemed to be laid off the further along they got into the reports of their parents’ apparent murder-suicide. Lots of sealed off information and blocked out text was enough for Rudelle to come to terms with their family constantly hiding but what exactly?There were always more questions than answers but there was no doubt in Rudelle’s mind that their grandmother had something to do with this.

A crack sounded at the window, bringing Rudelle out of their lengthy daze, spotting a black crow flying from their sight yet again. Rudelle didn’t waste any time, pulling out their phone to make note of the arrival of the same crow and exact date when it provided more damage to their window in the living room. Sighing they got to their feet, phone still in their hand as they got closer to the window, inspecting the cracks that seemed to get bigger each time.

After the sixth ring the line picked up.

“Leo, you coming ‘round?”

“…what’s in it for me?”

“Good company.”

“Is that a underlying proposition for us finally hooking up?” He sounds wide-awake now.

Rudelle snorts, “Keep on dreaming, mate.”

Rudelle doesn’t wait for a response as they end the call, knowing that when they called each other it was rarely for a chat since they could just text and send voice notes to each other. If they called each other it was usually within good reason—although it was a fact that Rudelle Povea and Napoleon Usher lived slightly different lifestyles.

It was about half an hour later when Napoleon shows up to Rudelle’s apartment, barely appearing, almost as if he was struggling to hold himself upright against the door.

Rudelle snickers at the dark attire and their friend’s appearance, “I’m surprised you didn’t use your key this time, why the long face? Did I ruin the post party?”

Napoleon rolls his eyes as he shoves his way inside the familiar apartment. He’s kicking off his shoes in the foyer and heads to the right to dive face first into the beige couch.

Rudelle closed the door behind the man and heads to where he is and squats beside him, “So…”

“No! I don’t want to take your fucking quiz, let me sleep.”

“I wasn’t going to ask any more about your night because I can just tell how it went,” Rudelle responds before adding, “I actually saw that crow again—

Napoleon lifts his chin to glance towards the window and sighs, “Where’s the maintenance manager when you need them? You do have that here in this unpleasant building, yeah?”

“I don’t care about the window.”

He blinks hard at Rudelle, “well you should, love. There’s what? Three cracks now and if you don’t know, they can spread and who knows what else will get into this building once the window finally decides to give way?”

“Your concern is sweet.” Rudelle’s reply is sarcastic.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Buuut! This is the crow’s third time doing that and it’s got me thinking.” Rudelle plops down on the floor, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Let me guess? About you fantasizing about being Brandon Lee’s eternal lover.” Napoleon mumbles—as if he hasn’t heard this before.

Rudelle’s been going on about this crow for a few weeks now and, “the Crow,” (1994) happened to be one of their favorite movies. The thing about Rudelle is that they always tried to find meaning and symbolism for everything. They honestly should have went into literature. Napoleon may have half-lidded eyes right now but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t ever listening. He’s known Rudelle for years, before Roderick came around and molded him into a Usher. They’ve always had a hunch for something and Rudelle wasn’t wrong about Napoleon’s father so who’s to say they would be wrong about this crow?

“No Leo…this time I’m thinking about decorating.”

Napoleon sighs as a smile appears on his face then, “I knew this day would come! There’s not much to work with but I’ve been saying this flat needs a makeover. It just doesn’t fit for you, you know? You’ve got personality and yet this still looks like a staged showing when we first toured this dreadful place. It’s boring and sort of stale—much like Tamerlane’s home now that I’ve come to think of it.”

“Whoa there, I don’t have nearly enough mirrors for us to match.”

“Funny,” Napoleon smirks a bit at the jab since that’s what it was. It’s not like he would ever blame his siblings for the way they all turned out and carried themselves, they had their father to thank for that but that also didn’t mean they were really loving towards each other either. They didn’t know what that felt like either and although Napoleon had his mother in his life, they drifted the moment she sent him here to meet Roderick at eighteen. The Usher siblings gave each other shit right to each others faces and behind each other’s backs.

Rudelle’s been around since before Napoleon gained the title of “being a usher,” so she’s seen it all and only threw in jabs to get a reaction from Napoleon. They knew to tread lightly, not out of fear but they still knew their lane and left that open for Leo to completely bash—if need be. However that still wasn’t in his nature to bash any of his half-siblings, he still saw something in them that they all shared…the torment conditions of being a usher maybe?

Believe it or not, he’s got some feelings about the mere thought of having siblings although they had their issues…there was still some level of respect beneath it all. This was just who they were, take it or leave it.

The world would most likely leave it.

Yes he was closer? If you want to use that term—to Camille and Perry but he was the one who wasn’t afraid to stand on how fucked this family is and always would be while the rest chose to shield that to the public eye.

“Which space are you thinking of first? This living room should be it since it’s the second focal point of this flat. And please don’t tell me you’re going for wallpaper? This is not the bloody 1920’s.” Napoleon spoke, resting his cheek against the back of his hand.

Rudelle shook their head, “I’m not really talking about renovations Leo. The crow’s got me thinking about Halloween decorations…which are down in the basement.”

Leo sits up instead and opens his mouth ready to respond until something catches his eyes on the coffee table. He leans over to snatch the files up, already sensing what they were before his eyes briefly scanned over them. “Ru! You’re investigating again?!”

“Well yes but this has nothing to do with my desire to be festive this time around.”

“I can’t say I believe that,” Leo shakes his head in disapproval, “this is the same shit that got you laid off from a decent pay—for your standards and now look! You’ve gone and decided to be some sort of archivist?”

“They actually haven’t called me back about that interview so…”

“And why do you think that is?”

“My nan’s got just enough pull as daddy Roderick and Auntie Madeline?”

Leo rubs at his beard in frustration, “for fucks sake I almost threw up in my mouth just then. I told you before not to refer to Roderick as that!” He glared at Rudelle who is definitely amused, knowing that irritates him then continued on, “…That could be almost true since your nan gives shady vibes too but you can’t keep doing this.”

“Why not? I’ve got nothing else better to do.” Rudelle shrugs confused before stating, “Just your unemployed friend on a Tuesday that’s keeping busy and trying to not ride on their savings.”

Leo raised his brow, “you think cracking the case on your parents’ death is somehow gonna give you income? That’s like wishing on a lucky star babe. There’s a reason you haven’t got anywhere with this and it’s been months, yeah?!”

“They were framed for a murder they probably didn’t commit which led to their deaths…if I can fix this then I can sue this shit system for if not all it’s worth then…I’ll take half.”

The determination was clear in Leo’s best friend’s eyes. They didn’t see that it was sounding a bit deranged but they had their own facts as well and if they strongly believed this then who was Leo to stomp on it? Leo didn’t know how it felt to not have two parents around but he did know how it felt to have a emotionally sad mother raising him. His mum was kind hearted to Rudelle back when they all lived in Redbridge and it certainly wasn’t out of pity, she was kind to anyone who shared the same decency to her son.

See, Napoleon’s mum is also very observant. She knew from the moment that Napoleon and Rudelle became friends (aged fourteen) that they would be able to keep each other afloat.

They were the pieces of good—more so Rudelle on the surface—that battled the bad the world laid upon them.

“Alright then…” Napoleon trailed off glancing upwards in thought, “in the mean time, you suppose decorating for Halloween will bring you clarity?”

Rudelle shrugs, “maybe. This could be a breakthrough.”

A breakthrough to just accept the job Napoleon’s been offering them since they settled into this city back when Rudelle was twenty-one. Leo’s been into gaming since he can remember, always wanted the latest games that his mother couldn’t afford at the time just to end up with it later on mercilessly. Not really—Roderick made it his job to buy his way in and taking care of Leo financially from a distance.

Yet when those eighteen years arrived and he actually met the mysterious man who tried to buy—definitely not his love—but rather his place as a Usher…Napoleon thought he was getting a chance to build a relationship with a man he didn’t know very well…but instead he was one of the shiny pieces in Roderick’s game.

Rudelle had dreams of being a geologist until she was in custody of their grandmother. They always had that woman in their ear growing up, dictating what they should be instead of what they wanted. All kids have dreams and aspirations but along the way there’s often detours. Those detours happen to be people who only saw greed and Rudelle chose what she thought would be the better option. To do it all on her own instead of being beneath her grandmother’s claws and Leo was still affiliated business wise or not no matter what choice he made.

They were both similar in that way.

Making their own choices, thinking it would work out in their favor.

“Fuck it, let’s do it.”

“Great,” Rudelle grinned ready to get to their feet, “I’ll grab the keys for the basement and you can head down. It’s seventy-four which is in the path of almost like a S shape.”

Leo frowns as Rudelle begins to move around the apartment in search of the keys, “wait…you’re not sending me down there alone are you?”

“Yes I am.” Rudelle went through the cabinets of their white kitchen, “there’s bugs down there. I can’t—I won’t. I can still feel those ant bites from last year just speaking on it.” They trail off in thought, scratching at their collarbone, “Which is why I kept most of my decorations shoved in closets up here.”

Leo frowns, “you sure you weren’t on shrooms?”

“Oh piss off! I still got the bills to prove it.”

“So you want me? This glorious piece of ass to be a early feast for some critters? Do you hate me? Do we suddenly have a problem that I’m unaware of?”

“You just said you’re going to participate in my breakthrough? Aren’t we mates?”

“Mates don’t set up mates!”

Rudelle pretends to think about it, which earns them a shove from Leo while Rudelle laughs in return latching onto some keys that were tossed into a drawer.

“Fine, if you wanna hold hands just say that.”

“Are you really going to hold my hand? A taken man?”

Rudelle was tempted to throw in a, ‘Glad you remember that you actually have a boyfriend this time around, considering how many times I’ve caught you in cheating acts.’

But they refrained…only because they had this idea to get their hands on the decorations and didn’t want to do it alone. Sure Rudelle maybe grasping at straws but that holiday changed the trajectory of everything losing their parents on that Halloween night. If you believe in the supernatural…maybe just maybe they could communicate with them in some way.

“Only if you’re afraid of the dark.”

“It’s not of the dark, rather what’s in it.”

“Don’t you worry buttercup, I’ve thought of it all.” Rudelle’s patting Leo’s cheek who furrows his brows as they disappear again around their home.

Leo exhales deeply, “if you did then why am I being dragged into this?!”

“Because you’re my best friend and you can’t help but to love me back.”

“I guess…”

“What?!” Rudelle calls from somewhere in the apartment.

“I said I must confess! You know like queen Britney once said.”

“Uh huh.” Rudelle appears back in front of Leo who started peeking through their fridge.

He clasps a tatted hand to his chest, “I forgot that you’re so light on your feet, should have been a astronaut.”

“Not a chance, I think you’d miss me too much,” Rudelle winks and begins to model out the accessories they gathered for the both of them on their sudden adventure.

Leo thinks about it, taking a bite out of the cold veggie pizza and shrugs, “eh you’re probably right.”

There was no denying that Leo classified Rudelle as his only and legitimate friend who didn’t care about his nepotism. Don’t think they didn’t argue over money when his ignorance got the best of him in the beginning but it didn’t become a thing until it became a thing from time to time.

The basement in Rudelle’s building always smelled of moth balls, fresh dirt, cigarette smoke, and wet air. It wasn’t the best thing to inhale but with the city that they lived in it wasn’t anything foreign. The deeper the pair traveled through the bottom of the building, the colder it felt; even with the friends standing side by side.

Leo whispers to his left, “you look like you’re not batting on a full wicket.” Referring to Rudelle’s attire of a full hooded wetsuit, sunglasses, and a KN95 mask.

“Sounds like you’re jealous and wouldn’t be able to pull off this fit.”

“Even if I wanted to,” Leo starts doing that irritated blinking he so commonly does, “which trust me I don’t—I’d like for my balls to breathe so that’ll be a negative on the jealously part. You however still are giving very much nutbag.”

Rudelle bows, “thank you, thank you. A true star is going to war.”

“Star? Let’s not go that far with that outfit you’re wearing.”

“You should really talk to your therapist about your haterism,” Rudelle bumps Leo’s shoulder, “ready?”

“Not really,” Leo comments, “what are the sunnies for?”

“The jumping spiders.”

“The what?!” Leo stops in his tracks, “you never said a thing about that. I thought we only had to worry about the ants. Spiders are much worse than ants!”

Rudelle shushes the man from beneath their mask, “can’t turn away now, we’re not far from the decor.”

Leo is muttering away as Rudelle begins to drag the brooding man along, “you have me smelling like a old man who has back spasms on a daily with this lavender and eucalyptus oil. You better be lucky that I like you.”

“Oh what ever would I do if a usher despised little ol’ me?” Rudelle pouts beneath their mask.

“More like, what would you do without me?” Leo mentioned as they traveled the s path to the storage room.

You know that eerie feeling you have when it feels like someone is watching you from the corner of a room or standing over you as you sleep? It’s one of the reasons why Rudelle sleeps with the covers completely over their face. It’s also one of the reasons why Leo was more of a side sleeper than any other position—unless he was up to something else that is. That same feeling was creeping up the nape of Leo’s neck although his hoodie was tightened to his head.

As the friends take what feels like slow steps closer to the storage, there’s a tapping feeling that falls upon Leo’s right shoulder. It’s instant that he whips his head to his left to where Rudelle once stood but they’re actually up ahead, unlocking the first gates to the storage room.

“Did you feel that?” Leo calls out, while looking behind him at the path in which they came.

The creaking of the gate is followed before Rudelle says anything, “depends what was felt.”

Leo isn’t sure if he likes that response, “what do you mean?”

“I’m not the only tenant that doesn’t like coming down here.” Rudelle says, “come on then, don’t be afraid.”

“I’d actually feel quite better if I had my Mjölnir.”

“You’ve got me, babe?” Rudelle grins over at Leo who snorts as he cautiously approaches them.

Leo stands at the entrance of the gate while Rudelle is already inside, “is that supposed to be comforting?”

“Sonny and Cher think so.” Rudelle winks over at Leo who shakes his head at that.

“Cute but not really my style of music.”

“Don’t I know it Mr. Hangs out at cracked out pubs for fun.”

“Definitely not my kinda party either.” Leo steps inside the gate while Rudelle searches for their storage, trying to recollect which side it was actually on.

Rudelle let’s out a cackle at that. They remembered a time when a tattoo-less glasses wearing Leo was afraid to try a spliff back in the day and now look at him, the main party man out of the duo.

Leo let’s put a whistle as he walks down the aisle of gated storages that seemed to be collecting dust on top of their piled up items. “This isn’t so bad although most of you may have a hoarding problem.”

With those words lingering in the air, the main gate behind them seems to slam shut behind them making both Rudelle and Leo’s heads turn back to the entrance.

“Don’t tell me—

Rudelle shakes their head in disapproval, “I told you to use the brick to keep it open!”

“When did you say that?!” Leo exasperates, hands thrown up in the air.

“Back when you said someone tapped on your shoulder.”

Leo rests his clasped hands on top of his hood as he gulped, “I—I never told you that.”

“Yes you did.”

“No! No I didn’t, Ru!” Leo felt unsettled, “I only asked if you felt it but never elaborated to what it was.”

Rudelle hums at this.

They could have sworn they heard Leo explaining that to them? There were reasons why the tenants on Sycapine hardly ever came this far down in the building. Things that couldn’t be explained, much like what the two best friends were experiencing. Leo would later brush this off not bothering to connect what he encountered with Ru as similar incidents his own family would face but way more extreme.

“Well…might as well stay awhile. We got nothing else better to do, since you just locked us in.” Rudelle unlocks their storage section, holding eye contact with a very annoyed Leo.

Leo points, “I didn’t do anything! You thought you could suddenly telepathically tell me shit for real this time?!”

It wouldn’t be Rudelle’s first time.

“You’re the one who said someone tapped on your shoulder, so clearly you’re the one who failed at telepathy.”

Leo felt his eye twitch, “I knew I should have stayed home.”

“Whatever,” Rudelle says kicking a box towards the dark haired man, “pop a squat buddy, you’re not going anywhere.”

Leo kicks back at the box and rushes over to the gate to rattle against it, thinking that would apparently get it to unlock. Slipping their hand against the padlock, he couldn’t angle his wrist just right to pad any numbers in and the extra stab was seeing a brick right across the gate, almost mocking Leo with bright green eyes while the hallway went black for a good two seconds, demanding that Leo witness the disturbing image.

The after effects of a party never had Leo like this before.

There’s another touch but it’s a pinch this time that sends him snatching his hand back through the gaps in the gate. Holding onto his skin he examines it to see that there’s no damage only tricks playing on his mind?

He glances back at Rudelle who comes back out shoving a heavy box out of their storage.

Leo finds a spot on the lighter box Rudelle previously kicked his way, keeping quiet until they come back with yet another box to sit across from Leo. He tilts his gaze sideways to read the text, “HALLOWEEN,” on the brown box.

“You owe me big time for this.”

Rudelle dips their head, “cross my heart—

“Don’t finish that sentence!” Leo shushes his friend while peering around, “never made any sense to me anyway. Who the fuck hopes to die?!”

“Relax babes, the yelling.” Rudelle curls a finger against their ear.

“Sorry are my frustrations bothering you?”

“No but you acting like a dickhead is.”

“How are you being so calm about this?”

“Normally I wouldn’t be but things are happening too much for this to be a coincidence so I’m looking at this as another perspective. This all could be my parents’ doing. Thus! The breakthrough.” Rudelle taps on their temple.

“If you say breakthrough one more time,” Leo warns, “you’re good at second guessing yourself and believing whatever your brain tells you to but has it occurred to you that this could all be the devil?”

Rudelle says, “and here I thought you weren’t religious.”

“I didn’t put a label on anything, it’s not really my thing but one thing I know is evil. And what I feel down here is not necessarily kind. Are you sure you wanna fuck with that more with these decorations?” Leo leaned his elbows into his knees.

Rudelle sighs, “can you definitely say that? And not just blame it on anxiety?”

“Would you say the same with the crows? I mean that is the whole reason why we’re down here.”

Rudelle is silent at this for awhile and Leo can see the wheels turning but he’s not the most patient.

“I’m convinced it’s something else.” Rudelle exhales, “I know this building better since I did the research before moving in.”

“Do I wanna know that history?”

Rudelle lightly shakes their head, “I’ll keep it to myself…otherwise you might burst a blood vessel and I feel better having you focused rather than pissed.”

“fucking hell! I don’t like it when you keep secrets.”

“I know!” Rudelle yells back, “but this is an itch that I can finally scratch and I just need the support.”

Leo rubbed at his face, digging the palms into his tired eyes. He understood, of course he understood, he just didn’t exactly enjoy things that go bump in the night.

Never did but being the kind of friend that he is, he would get his point across—even if you didn’t like it but still find a way to be what you needed.

“Fine,” Leo holds out his hand which Rudelle smiled at before quickly tapping the back of their hands together before moving into a smoking motion, pointer and thumb pressed together as they pressed a kiss there before pulling away to exhale the bad into the air, “one love.”

“Always.”

Leo’s smile quickly vanished, “Just know…”

“Ah, here we go.”

“I’ll fucking haunt you if I go first.”

“Way to ruin the moment, Leon.” Rudelle rolls their eyes, “there’s answers in here somewhere.”

Leo feels he’s holding his breath as Rudelle begins to reach for the flaps of the brown box. He’s not sure what could be so off-putting by Halloween decorations and if these would be the usual kind? He personally wasn’t the biggest fan of Halloween as he didn’t enjoy being spooked since that tended to make things difficult for him.

‘Yes there are…but are they the answers they want?’ A feminine voice belonging to the entity named Vera, who hasn’t fully introduced themselves yet speaks above the long time friend’s heads but she doesn’t show herself.

She lingers in the shadows for now but she’s never far. So she watches on as the box becomes open, four flaps folded back as Rudelle takes a large inhale, peeking at Leo who holds their stare.

Unbeknownst to them, the gate behind Leo quietly unlocks and leaves the door ajar.

⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️🕷️🕸️♱⋆ ⋆♱🕸️

Continue along with my fall anthology prompts here.

#queued #tfothou #tfothou netflix #the fall of the house of usher #Netflix #rahul kohli #rahul kohli x reader #Napoleon usher #Napoleon usher x reader #leo usher #Leo usher x reader #fall prompts #Spotify

[gorgeys]

um what am i doing

#camille l'espanaye #camille usher #the fall of the house of usher #tfothou #camille l'espanaye x reader #house of usher #house of usher x reader #tfothou x reader #the fall of the house of usher x reader

[the-fandom-abyss]

Here’s a sentence prompt for you:

The skies opened, droplets splashing against the pavement, creating a gloomy atmosphere.

The skies opened, droplets splashing against the pavement, creating a gloomy atmosphere. The weight of what you had just seen digs you deeper into the concrete below your knees. If only she had listened, if she had taken a moment to think about her actions, about what could happen.

A bolt of lightning flashed in the distance, commanding your attention. The static filled the air, causing the hairs on your arms to stand. Something was drawing you to look up, seek the skyline further. It urged you with a gust of wind, forcing your eyes to look forward.

Another bolt of lightning, struck close to the empty parking lot. Supplying enough light to illuminate Camille’s abandoned car and the small puddles that began to form. And that was when you saw it, a figure that you so desperately wanted to forget.

A scream rippled from your throat, pure fear shooting through every nerve ending. There stood Camille, torn to shreds in her blood soaked clothes. Just as quick as the lightning had offered light, it was taken away. The carpark was left in darkness, like it once was when you arrived.

Yet that didn’t stop Camille from entering the full light of the corporate sign to reside right in front of you. In pure horror, no sound could escape you, eyes frozen to the figure in front of you. She crouched down, her glazed eyes staring into yours. A sad smile curved her lips, while her cold hand reached for your cheek. It was the only comfort she could provide, the last comfort she’ll ever be able to give and you both took solace in that.

1k Follower Celebration

#camille l'espanaye #camille l’espanaye imagine #Camille l’espanaye x reader #first sentence prompt #tfothou #the fall of the house of usher #tfothou x reader #tfothou imagine

[the-fandom-abyss]

Hi! I was just wondering do you take requests? If so could you ever write something sweet and h/c with Verna? Literally anything at all with her being kind and comforting. I don't see many blogs writing her so I'd be really grateful. If not, then what's your opinion on her character overall? I'd love to hear your thoughts! Thanks!!

One thing we didn’t get to dive into is how romantic Verna is. You can see that in the way she recites poems, the way she sends people to sleep, how she speaks to them moments before their passing. I feel that is how she would be with someone she loves. She would be the one to cook breakfast in bed, just so she could snuggle with you longer. Or she would set up a romantic dinner with candles and music, just so she can end the night by dancing with you. Or something as simple as cleaning, she would want to be near you at all times, help out where she can.

Sometimes Verna’s comforting techniques can be a bit skewed. For example, if anyone uses their power over you or threatens you in any way. She will strike a deal with them, just like she did with the Ushers. She will mention this to you with a “they’ll never hurt you again”. Their luck will begin to turn and eventually they will cease to exist. If she is feeling particularly passionate about it, there might be some luck in the deal for you. Whether that be riches, houses, cars, power. Whatever Verna believes you need in that moment, she’ll get for you.

Alternatively, she is also the world’s best listener. She will happily hear your side of the story, soaking it all in. She will ask if you want to vent, or want some advice or if you want her to problem solve. Depending on the answer, she will act accordingly. When it’s just to listen, she will comfort you afterwards with a stress free bath, cuddles with a movie or she’ll brush your hair for you. She’ll tell you how proud she is when you express your emotions.

If you are wanting advice, Verna will draw upon her many years in humanity to find the perfect response. Sometimes the advice does not translate well but her heart was in the right place. Her advice can even be goofy, just something for you to smile or giggle at, because for her that is the simplest joy.

If you wanted her to problem solve that doesn’t involve her creating deals and orchestrating their deaths. She will offer suggestions that could help and like her advice they can be very hit or miss. It’s the thought she puts into it that counts. Often times you ask for help just to hear her speak, her voice is just so beautiful when passionate. And of course Verna knows this so she will go around the block with her response just so that you get the most of it.

Death is something that many people fear, which rightly so, if your death is anything like the Usher family. However, death can also be kind and gentle which is seen through Verna’s actions. If it ever comes to it, Verna will send you with sweet dreams. She will morph the atmosphere to be one of love and respect, something that you would find peace in. Once it was done, she would wait with you, just long enough for you to transition over.

1k Follower Celebration

#Verna headcannon #Verna x reader #Verna imagine #tfothou imagine #tfothou headcannon #tfothou x reader

[madwomansapologist]

lost in your fire | camille l'espanaye

Navigation | More Camille L'Espanaye | AO3

synopsis: When you survived the entire selection process to be Camille L'espanaye's new assistant, you certainly didn't expect to find this type of employment contract. You could bet your life that the worst thing that could happen to you would be a Miranda-Andrea type of employement. Good thing you didn't.

warnings: smut. strip tease. oral. fingering. degradation. praise. pussy slap. age gap. dom/sub. s&m. co workers. tw: use of 'needy pretty slut'. sugar mommy? that can tagged as abuse of power? prostituition? female!reader. gif: @azrphales

You never thought that graduating in journalism would be the answer to all your problems. It isn't an easy profession, nor is it respected or pays that much. You didn't expect your life to be perfect once you got your diploma.

But damn.

Horrible bosses, jobs that added nothing to your life, laughable salaries. Little free time, little rest, little leisure. Little of everything, except work and stress. Those were always a lot.

And all because you didn't have money. If you had been born into a wealthy family everything would be so different. So much better. Because you know you have talent and determination, what you lack is chance. Is luck. And anyone alive knows that luck is just another name for money.

So when you went to the job interview to be Camille L'espanaye's assistant, you weren't surprised that you did it well. You for sure were surprised to be chosen over someone with an established surname. Or that had a least already finished college. Someone older, experienced. But what surprised you more were the terms of contract.

You didn't know for sure if Camille L'espanaye had too much courage or just lacked the shame, but she was the one to give you the contract. Not someone from HR, not a group of lawyers that would speak for her, but the woman herself.

She did like it was just another thursday for her. Maybe for Camille it was.

You dropped the contract on her desk. "So you want a whore?"

Before that you were so polite. Even thought Camille barely looked into your face, you kept on that thankful-employer act. You said it would be a honor to work for her. But after reading that, nothing mattered anymore.

"I need an assistant," Camille didn't look up from her notebook. She was writing something, the way her fingers moved showed concern while her voice was uterly disinterest. She didn't look up from it since you entered her office. "Someone that I can trust to gather information, follow my orders, know when to speak up and when to shut up. But I also require certain things from my assistants."

"Do I look like a whore?"

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe it wasn't the lack of money or a renowed surname. Maybe all your rich colleagues got into great jobs while you rot was because... they are better for you. Maybe that's the only thing you are capable of: work on horrible places because others wouldn't be stupid enough to hire you.

Camille chose you because she wants to fuck you. Not because you are talented, competent, competitive. Not because of your writing, your morals, your desire to become something more. Camille saw you as a fuckable body with a pretty face and nothing more.

"It's not my problem to give a shit about your..."

"That was the reason I made till the finish line?" Camille was the one surprised now. Not only you interrupted her, but there was something on your voice. It sounded almost dissapointed. "Because you wanted to fuck me?"

Camille looked at you for the first time.

Her platinum hair moved along when she bent over the table, her face founding a support on her open hands. Camille was something. There was a fire on her eyes, a flame that just couldn't die.

When Camille L'espanaye looked at you, it burned.

She was more than the daughter of someone important. Camille was the very next best thing.

"I read your thesis. The gatekeep theory and it's changes during the last decade," Camille didn't look bored. Not anymore. "And I read your articles. Your blog. But you know what surprised me the most?"

You found difficult to open your mouth. "What?"

"Your empty curriculum," she laughed. You would have feel ofended, but she kept on talking. "You have talent, that's for sure, but no one noticed it yet. I know you're starving for a opportunity. Now all you need to do is chose: will you grab it, or will you spend the rest of your life hating whoever made the right decision?"

You glared at the paper. "That's not safe for me," you didn't realize you're were gaving in until you opened your mouth. That shocked you. To know that just a few words from Camille turned your no into a almost.

Camille noticed that too. "Item IX."

You thought she would say something more, but at the end you had to open the document again. Item IX was about... limits. Safewords, six different spreadsheets to be filled with your answers about anything related to sex, Camille's own boundaries, NDAs that protect the both of you.

You spend a few minutes in silence. Just thinking to yourself, trying to find a answer. Yes or no? You looked at Camille, and it startled you to see that she was glaring at you. She was so blasé, but her burning eyes showed you interest, curiosity.

Hunger.

You grabbed the pen in front of Camille's smartphone and signed where it was needed. You left the contract on her table, grabbed your purse and didn't looked back.

And what a shame. Because if you had, you would've see how Camille L'espanaye observed every step you gave.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Most of your time is spend with you running from one place to another, gathering information about anything that Camille think is troublesome. Making the right questions, tooking the right photos, knowing when to get out before people get upset.

If Camille senses that something stink, your job is to show her how much of shit is involved on it.

Except by your first day of work. That was unusual. It included getting measured for your uniform and an appointment with her hairdresser. You also run a few blood tests, consulted a gynecologist and signed documents in front of a scary lawyer.

But today was a calm day, and your feet were so grateful for it. It was the first time in two weeks that you could just sit still. Organizing Camille's agenda, confirming her presence on a few events and denying any request for a interview, you took your heels off.

That's the thing about news channels and saturdays: everyone that makes things interesting are too busy enjoying their day off. Normally you are one of those people, but Camille needed you here today.

The phone rang, and she didn't even gave you the time to answer. "My office. Now."

Your heels announced your presence. White dresses, gold earrings and black heels: that was your uniform meanwhile the real one was being made.

Camille was paying attention to her phone, tipping as fast as humanly possible, when you entered her office. Everything was black and white, just like your clothes. "Open it," Camille murmured gesturing towards a golden box on her table.

You got near it, leaving your table beside the box, and opened. Inside it you found the reason why you're working today. Your uniform was there.

Camille clearly can have anything she want, all she needs to do is open her mouth. But there is no way she could speed up a sewing process. Not without getting bad clothes.

You took it from inside the box and notice how it looked just like those school's uniforms that appear on series about rich people. It was soft, warm, and beautiful. There was also a pair of new, black shoes.

She really wanted you to look young.

"And... done," Camille closed her eyes, and passed her fingers throught her hair. It must have been a really stressing conversation. "Now put it on."

"Alright," you put everything inside the box ans took it on your arms, going to the bathroom at the end of the corridor. But before you could made to the door, Camille's voice stopped you.

"Do it here."

Camille demanding you to get dresses in front of her should have make you want to vomit. You shouldn't want that, or her, or that fucking job.

But you do. Fuck, you want that.

Camille told you to grab the opportunity. She show you that it wouldn't wait for you. And it was the right choice. Not only your payment is really good, but she is also paying your college debt as a act of encoragment — her words. Working for Camille will open so many doors for you, and those that won't you can open with her money.

And all she's asking is for you to fuck her.

You fucked girls for free, and none of them were directly responsible for you buying a new car. Why not put a price on your body? Camille is willing to pay it.

It helps that she's hot as fuck.

So you put the box on a couch and gave her the show she wanted. You started just taking off your earrings and necklace. Then you opened the ziper of your dress, slow enough to make her sigh. You let it slid of your body, revealing that you wore nothing bellow it.

You twirl the dress on your fingers, then throw it at her. It feel right beside Camille's phone. Once more her facade broke a bit, her smile way closer to a laugh then to a smirk.

As you put on your new clothes, you gave her a little spin. "Come here," was all Camille said.

You licked your lips and walked towards her. Right in front of Camille, you felt her eyes analizing every single detail of you. She gave you smirk.

"Kneel for me," she ordered. You did as she wanted, your heels digging on the skin of your feet. "Now use your mouth. Prove me your worth."

Camille opened her legs, the dress went up her tights and revealed her black thong. You touched her skin, your fingertips just brushing against her knees and thights. You slid them across her covered pussy, a touch so delicate it felt like a ghost.

Looking into Camille's burning eyes, you put her thong aside and revealed herself to you.

From then on, you were nothing but a starving woman.

Camille held on by your hair. She wasn't delicate. She just grabbed you, almost like you would run away. How could you ever do that? Not with her being so sweet. Not with her lips so warm against your lips.

"Fuck," she whispered. Her incoerent words showed that you were doing a good job. "Just like that."

You looked up, and then you saw Camille looking deep into your eyes. It made you go even harder on her, totally focused on making Camille reach heaven.

"What a pretty thing you are," Camille moaned. Her hand, before pulling your hair with no regards, now carressed your cheeks. "You're such a needy pretty slut, aren't you? My fucktoy."

You moaned against her dripping pussy, drunk on her arousal, and felt Camille shaking bellow you. She's so blasé, so colected, but now you saw her breaking bit by bit.

More confident, you grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer to you. Your tongue brushed against her sensitive clit, your fingers spread her pussy from inside. The sounds she made were the prettiest song you ever heard.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Camille couldn't stop screaming. That all put together bussinesswoman you meet were long gone. She was just a woman in need of a helping hand. "I'm 'bout to, oh god..."

Your felt her melting against you, her legs trembling against your arms. You stopped when her body collapsed against her armchair.

"Get up," she murmured. This time not out of disinterest, but because she was lost on her own pleasure.

Standing, you turned your back to her so you could get your things and leave. But before you could walk away, two hands grabbed you by your waist.

Camille, standing before you, caressed your skin. "Where are you going?" She bit your shoulder, and her teeths dig on your skin. It wasn't delicate, but it was good. "Already running away from me?"

"I thought you were done," you whispered. Her taste was still on your mouth. So sweet it could give you toothaches.

Camille kept on bitting your neck, licking it right after, until she made to your ear. "I'm not done with you," she whispered, and you didn't knew if she was mocking you.

"Sit on my table," she slapped your ass when you moved. "Open your legs." She once slapped you, but this time on your pussy.

The moan that escaped you made Camille force herself against your mouth. She tasted herself on you, but she also felt the taste of your lipstick. Camille licked your lips, trying to get more of you, then went back to explore your mouth.

Her fingers played with your lips, so wet for her, and entered on your tight pussy. So warm, so made for her. Camille curved her fingers, and you held into her. "Just like that," you moaned. "Please, just..."

Camille went harder, so hard you knew that it would hurt the other day, but you didn't care. Camille could hurt you however she wants, as long as she keep on making you feel like that.

"Be a good bitch and cum on my fingers," Camille grabbed you by the chin. That made you open your mouth, and Camille noticed the way your lips covered on her saliva shone. "Show me your tongue."

Camille spat on it, and you gadly took it. You blinked to her.

"Fuck," Camille fingered you as she pinched your clit. You were so close. "You really have a talent for that, don't you? Thinking about making you mine. Chain you to my bed so I can use you whenever I want."

"Do it," you whimpered against her lips.

She spread her fingers inside you. You gasped, your body chocking against her. You couldn't think, you couldn't see, all you did was moan as you came.

Camille continued until you were too sensitive to take it. She licked her lips, now addicted to your taste, and stepped away from you.

She took off her thong and thrown it at you. Camille moved your body, taking her phone right behind you, and sat on her armchair. You breath as you watched her go back to work, but you also smiled when you noticed her trembling feet.

"Cover yourself," Camille started. "Clean my agenda for tomorrow, scheduled a meeting Pym and find someone that make a coffee that doesn't suck like yours."

"But you swallow," you murmured as you put on her thong. It was wet from her arousal and your spit.

"What did you just said?"

"You heard me," you took your tablet and didn't gave her time before you walked away.

Camille L'espanaye observed every step you gave. When you were gone, she throw her phone away and closed her eyes.

"I am so fucked," Camille whispered to herself.

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higher than heaven | tamerlane usher

Navigation | More Tamerlane Usher | AO3

synopsis: Goldbug launch was a tremendous sucess. Of course Tamerlane knew it would be one, but it still was nice to see it being well received by the press. And the best part was that, when she got out of the stage and out of that sucessfull entrepreneur mode, Tamerlane had you waiting with open arms.

warnings: fluff. married life. fix fic. entrepreneur meets entrepreneur and fall in love. tammy will get her well deserved rest time!!!! female!reader.

The launch was expensive, but it was worth every penny. More than just self-care, Goldbug is luxury. Rarity. It is for few, and that is why it is desired by everyone. It was expensive, it will pay for itself and more.

And when everyone present felt special, felt deserving of the great wonders that only generational money and political influence could achieve, Tamerlane knew that Goldbug was a sucess. She knew that her name would never be forgotten. That her family would never be able to forget how even during a judicial hell she was the reason the name Usher was associated with something desirable.

And Tammy knew you were waiting for her.

Tamerlane presented Goldbug, she sold it, but you were the one making sure the press would say the right thing. While journalists were drinking champagne, you repeated the names of the suppliers. While influencers were distracted by the beauty of the event, you somehow convinced them to take photos in the right place and at the right time. And if the futile personalities who were invited suggested that luxury was something they were used to, you reminded them of what Goldbug really was: the perfect way to make someone green with envy.

Her model, her muse, the face of her empire under construction. Your hair, your necklace, your dress. Your perfume, your eyeline, your hells. Your brain. You. You, as whole. You were part of this. You were a reason for Goldbug to be desirable. You were perfect, just as always.

But Tammy guess she isn't impartial when it comes to you. You could have someone's blood on your face, a weapon on your hands, and she would still think of you in the same perfect. Perfect. And hers.

It was impossible to talk during the launch, even when drinks were being served for you two it was still work, but your eyes meet and she saw how proud they were of her. Smiles were hidden behind glasses. Your hand bumped into Tamerlane's elbow while you were talking to a deputy's wife. You were the one to start her standing ovation.

When the event ended, Madeline approached with a discreet smile on her face. "The articles have already started to come out." Apparently the reporters were faster than Tammy had imagined. "You did a good for the family. And so did she."

Frederick can suck that, Tamerlane thought while walking towards her car. Not only the best daughter, she also has the best wife. Those cakes can suck it too.

The security guard opened the car door, and a calm smile dominated Tamerlane's face as soon as she saw you reading something on your phone. "They're all fawning over you," you whispered as Tammy sat right next to you.

Tamerlane rested her head on the bench and didn't answer you. She just looked at you. The makeup on yoyr eyes was smudged. You rubbed them. The lipstick in the center of your lips was faded, the red getting lost with each sip from the various glasses that passed through your hand. Your bun was falling, and your hairpins were showing.

Perfect.

The car accelerated, and Tamerlane took a deep breath. She let the air inside her lungs change, peace dominate her body. Instead of putting on her belt, Tamerlane laid her head on your lap.

"You were amazing on the stage. I could never," you whispered. Even if the driver had better things to do than pay attention to your conversation, you still prefer to make it as intimate as you can. Your fingers caressed her hair, nails lightly scratching her scalp. "Green really is your color."

Tamerlane chuckle. "I don't think there is something you can't do, my other half." Tammy closed her eyes, your fingers giving her goosebumps. She squeezed your knee, tugging at the thin fabric of your dress. "Green?"

"Yes, my other half" Tammy could almost hear your smile as you mirrored her. "Green."

Tammy didn't even notice she fell asleep. She just felt the car stop, the engine going silent. She still felt your fingers sliding against her scalp. "Wake up, sleepyhead." You didn't stop caressing her. "Bed is more comfortable."

That made her get out of the car.

Maybe it was childish and irresponsible, but you didn't shower before bed. Tammy threw her heels away, you stood in front of one of the bedroom's mirror struggling to get rid of the hairpins. She walked over to you, and wrapped her arms around your waist. "In need of help, pretty lady?"

"Call me a damnsel in distress," you held her hands. Tamerlane smelled like strawberry. Not like something made to smell like strawberry, but just like the fruit. It was so great you could sleep against her.

You had to let go for Tammy to help you, and you missed her even with her behind you. "After all that," you started. "When Goldbug is stable and the trials end..."

Tammy put the hairpins on the dressing table. "That's okay. I don't wanna talk about it, but I know it's happening. Just go on."

It was your time to help her. You unzip the green dress, and handed Tammy her nightgown. "When it's done, we could go on a vacation. Just the two of us."

She pulled the sheets off the bed and lay down. You turned off the lights and changed into your pajamas in the dark. "Where?" Tammy turned on the lamp. "Where we didn't went yet?"

You lay down, pulled the blanket over yourself, and turned to face her. Tammy snuggled closer to you, her cold feet touching yours. "Greece."

"Greece it is", Tammy kissed your lips lightly. "You reread Percy Jackson, didn't you?"

You laughed against her lips. "You know me so well."

"Of course I do," you felt her smile growing. None of you could move away. None of you wanted that. "Do you think for even a second that I could think about anything that isn't you?"

"Oh, shit." You rubbed your nose against hers. "Tamerlane, do you have a crush on me?"

"Fuck you," was the last thing she told you before sleeping on your arms.

It was a amazing night. Perfect, Tamerlane would say.

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A&W | tamerlane usher & william 'bill-t' wilson

Navigation | More Tamerlane Usher | AO3

synopsis: You were the new girl. A play pretend, for Tamerlane Usher. A way to satisfy his wife, for Bill. They just couldn't predict you would be Tamerlane's clone. Or that you would do them so well. [3,6K]

warnings: smut. prostituition. threesome. voyeurism. masturbation. p in v. cream pie. oral. fingering. tw: use of 'good boy' and 'so fucking pretty'. dom!tamerlane. switch!reader. female!reader. reader is described to look alike tamerlane.

Tamerlane Usher expected to see a new, different face when she opened her front door. "Sorry for being late," you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. With a delicate smile, you reached out to her. "You may call me Love."

But all Tammy saw was herself.

It was like facing a mirror. You weren't a clone, there were enough different traits and details for her to be sure of it, but you looked like another version of Tamerlane. Like someone's blurred memory of her.

Your hair was a little bit longer, but it was the same color and texture as hers. Your eyelashes were a little bit ticker, but your eyes shone in the same tone as hers. Your smile was beaming and unapolagetic, but your lips were exactly like hers. So different, and yet so similar.

Tamerlane thought about how she so easily can forget someone's face. How sometimes imagination take place over memory. She imagined if anyone ever thought about her, but only pictured you. Would Bill ever do that? After this night, would he think about Tammy and see her copycat instead?

"Love?" Tamerlane licked her lips, a smirk growing slowly on her face. She didn't touch your hand, just gave you space to enter. "We thought you had changed your mind."

After the Goldbug launch, the last girl warned she was moving to another city. Tamerlane couldn't just hire anyone. First: she has standarts. Second: she has a reputation. It took her sometime to find someone, and for those past few weeks she felt starved.

She was so relieved when the last girl told about you. After discussing with you through e-mail, Tammy knew you were open to most of her desires. Then it came the NDAs, blood tests, creation of a new bank account. And Pym's research about you.

When he called her 4am to only say you were clean, Tamerlane almost felt like herself again.

"I would never," you said as your followed Tammy. "The last girl send me the wrong address."

It was difficult to not look at yourself through any of the mirrors there. Althought, maybe you could just look at Tamerlane. She is your distorced mirror.

After she gave you the envelope with the payment, a man came out of the kitchen with a bowl of salad. And his face certainty weren't new for you.

Of course you knew who Tamerlane Usher was. It feels impossible to try to survive without bumping into something owened by a Usher or their partners. You knew her name, her brand, but not her face. As any smart rich person, she went out of her away to not be famous.

Maybe you could pass by Roderick Usher and not realize who he was. Madeline could be right behind you and you would never noticed. But that would never happened with William "Bill" Wilson.

His face is everywhere. Sometimes it feels like it's stalking you. So many products, banners, commercials. It's impossible to use Tik Tok and never had seen at least a second of his classes. Either because of his knowledge about health or how no one can understand how he is able to smile while working out, people know Bill.

Bill is the face of Tamerlane's empire.

And here was him, serving the table.

Everything smelled so good. And also looked so delicious. Even the salad. Distracted by the food, it took you a second to notice the mesmerized look on his face.

"Your hair," Bill murmured. He sounded uncomfortable. Almost ofended. He glared at Tamerlane. "You chose that wig?"

You reached out to him already expecting to be ignored as when you did the same with Tamerlane. "Hello, Bill. I'm Love," it surprised you when he grabbed your hand.

It was a stiff, reservated movement. But you still feel like he saw you as more than the thing that will spicy the night. Like when you act as polite as you can with an worker because you want be sure that they will understand you see them as human beings. The quick gest carried some sort of companionship.

You both are working for Tamerlane tonight.

"That's my hair..." You touched a strand of it, twirling it on your hand. You tried to sound unsure, insecure. "You don't like it?"

Bill hesitated. Normally they ask Tamerlane if she liked what they chose, not him. Those girls could make him bleed and they would still ask Tamerlane if they should keep going. It never is about him, Bill don't want it to be about him, so why bother? But you held your gaze on him, waiting for an opinion, and so he had to came up with one.

"Is just that," it was almost a whisper. Bill put his hands behind his back, and for a second ignored your gaze by looking at Tammy. "You both are identicals."

"I don't think so," you said, touching your lips lightly. By his tone, you couldn't say if it was a good or a bad thing for him. You turned to Tammy, who was pushing a chair for her, and then went back to Bill's eyes. Your smirk surprised him. "My clothes are cheaper."

That made them smile. You unbuttoned your black coat, and Bill took it from your hands. Even from behind, you could feel him staring at you. Staring at your emerald dress.

Tamerlane, already sat on her chair, saw you giving her a little spin. That made her breathe in. She could already feel her womb warming up.

You both were matching.

"I thought we should start with dinner. Let's do a celebration, maybe a birthday. Just eat, drink, enjoy one another. Do you drink wine? Good. We'll talk about the rest later."

Bill pulled your chair. You sat at the beginning of the table, and held his hand before Bill could get away from you. Carressing it, you felt the warmth of his skin. "I'm so, so sorry for being late," you whispered. "I really am."

"That's fine," Bill finally said after a few seconds of silence.

"I can see you worked a lot. Everything looks amazing." You put your head in between your hands, watching Bill sitting beside you. "I love when you cook for me. It makes me feel like I'm part of a team. Our team."

Unsure of how to proceed, Bill looked at Tamerlane. He waited for instructions, maybe just as controled by Tamerlane as you. Her eyes were approving, so he turned back to you with more confidence.

Bill think it's so funny how he was turned into a puppet by her hands. Who would imagine that he would ever bend like that? Love really fucks people up. At least his love for Tamerlane did fucked him up.

He would do anything for her. Anything to keep her. Including this. If she needs that, so be it.

"I feel the same," and Bill really wasn't lying. He just wasn't. "Makes me feel part of something."

Tamerlane slid against her chair, intrigued by how this was going.

You grabbed his hand, and he carressed yours. "We against the world, right?"

Bill smiled. "Always."

You knew he was beautiful, who could ignore that fact, but he was so much prettier from up close. So sweet. For a moment you just watched him, and you also felt like he was watching you.

"I almost forgot," you walked to where he put your coat and searched for something on the pockets. "The real reason why I'm late."

You came back with a white, tiny box in your hands. You settled it in front of Bill, and took a bite from the plate he made for you. "Perfect, as always," you licked your lips and tapped the box twice. "C'mon. I want to see your reaction."

He took it on his hands, feeling how light the box was. When he opened it, he saw a hand watch. "Did you liked it? It's so difficult to gift someone. What can I give to someone that can have anything? There are so many things that can go wrong. If you didn't, I can just..."

"I loved it," Bill stopped you. "But I don't have anything for you."

You took it from his hands, and opened to put it around his fist. "You don't need to." Your hands stayed against his forearm, strucking it lightly. "You're more than enough to make me happy."

Tamerlane was already dripping.

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Tamerlane told you both to wait while she made sure everything was ready and set. You finished your glass of wine, the only one you drank that night, and got distracted observing the room for long enough to forget you weren't alone.

What remind you of that was noise coming from the kitchen.

You walked slowly, so carefully that Bill didn't even saw you. But you saw him. He bend over the sink, searching for something that looked like a medicine box, murmuring something to himself. And when he found, you recognized the blue pill on his hand.

"That just broke my heart, big boy." The way Bill got startled made you smirk. "I'm not pretty enough for you?"

Alone, you could see how he was more relaxed. Maybe calmer. Near his wife, Bill needs to lie. Near you, he don't need to. Even thought you know that this dinner wasn't entirely a play pretend, it was still one.

"You're not the problem," he murmured.

"Then what is the problem?" You whispered, stepping closer to him. "Don't tell me you gonna fuck a woman for your wife and not even enjoy it?"

"That way is easier for the both of us," Bill whispered, mirroring you. "None of us wants to be here, let's just get it done already."

You held his hand before he could put the pill on his mouth. "You think I don't want to be here?" You got even closer. "That I don't want to be near you?"

Bill didn't knew what to say. He just agreed.

"I can't wait to make you feel good. To make sure you won't have time to think those stupid thoughts. You won't worry about anything else." Carressing his chest, you felt how stiff he really was. How nervous and uncomfortable that whole night has been for him. What a shame. A man as pretty as him don't deserve to ever feel that way. "Because that's what I do. That's what I love to do."

Your hands massaged his shoulders, then his forearms. "So tense," you grabbed Bill's hands and kissed his knuckles. Not even once you looked away from him. "You can pretend I'm her."

Calmly, you slid your fingers against his. Just playing with his skin, letting goosebumps on him. "I won't be ofended. If it's easier for you. It's easier for her, that I know."

Bill whimpered, and you never before wanted so bad to break someone. To take this mask Bill use, his all put together way, and smash it against the ground. To see him wide, unapolagetic.

You bite lightly his middle finger, just to mess with him, before you straighned up your posture. "I promise not to say a damn thing. If it makes it easier. All you need to do is to closer your eyes."

Tamerlane's heels made you look away, but you kept on holding his hand. "Can you do that for me, big boy?" You turned back to him, a ghost of a smile appearing on your face. "Can you fuck me like I'm yours?"

"Everything alright over here?" Tamerlane announced herself.

You blinked at Bill before turning to her. You gave Tammy another beaming smile.

You followed her to the bedroom, the tension rising. You could feel Bill watching you, his gaze burning your back. When Tamerlane locked the door, you took a deep breath.

"Since it's our first time, let's start slowly," Tamerlane walked toward her armchair. "Bill, help her take off her dress. I want you both to kiss, it don't need to be romantic, and then lie on bed with her on top. We'll see how it goes."

You stepped towards Bill. "You like when I wear green?"

"Yes, I do." Bill was more eager to answer this time. Maybe it has something to do with the way you made him unable to look away while you followed Tamerlane.

"I like it better when I'm wearing nothing. And you?"

Tamerlane unbuttoned her pants, unable to look away. This was... different. No one ever bothered to talk. To continue this act no matter what happens. She was salivating.

Bill held your waist, and he did so with force. You felt fingers brush against your ribs, moving up to brush against your breasts, squeezing the flesh of your waist. His gaze alone seemed capable of tearing your dress.

You turned around, and Bill pulled you against him. That felt so right. You took a deep breath, holding his hand against your body. You rubbed against him, feeling him through his pants, and smiled victoriously.

“The zipper,” you whispered.

Bill opened it calmly, noticing every inch of exposed skin, his finger brushing against your back. The dress fell off. You stepped out of it, and kicked it towards Tamerlane.

She smirked.

You were fun.

Which meant she was fun.

Bill grabbed your waist again, but without the dress the touch felt so new. You both just kept like that, as if it was a normal thing for the both of you, until you chose to turned around. You knew you were putting on a little show for the both of them.

“Kiss me,” you commanded. As if it was you the one ordering that. As if it was your idea, not Tammy's. As if you were her. You promised Bill to make him believe you were Tamerlane. You always keep your promises. "Now."

And Bill did as you wanted him to. As you ordered him to.

It was raw. Famine. You felt like Bill was trying to taste your soul. To hold onto it and never let it go. Bill kissed you like he was a starved man, and you accept him like a sheep waiting to be sacrified. And still, you weren't a sheep. You couldn't be one. Not if you want him to see you as Tamerlane.

Tamerlane is a wolf.

You pulled him by the collar of his shirt, not bothering to be gentle. You held him like Bill was yours, which meant that for tonight he would be. You pushed him, causing Bill to stumble back. He gasped, just like Tamerlane.

"Sit down," you demanded.

Bill couldn't think straight, his mind confused from the wine and the desire for more, so you pushed him hard. He fell onto the bed, staring at you from below as if you were a sight he had never seen before. "Is it so difficult to obey me?"

He shook his head. "No," he felt the need to repeat.

If you were Tamerlane, he would never be so needy. You would satisfy him whenever you could. But you can understand her side. There's nothing as beautiful as a giant man smelling like desire.

“Take off your shirt,” you ordered. This time he obeyed. As Bill threw his shirt away, you caressed his chest. So much more delicate than the push, so much more certain than the provocations exchanged in the kitchen. "Good boy."

You sat on his lap, and carefully laid him on the bed. You nibbled his lip, licked his thick neck, scratched his pecs. You slid your hand down his pants, knowing well that Bill was looking at your exposed intimacy, and felt his dick. Getting hard.

Even with tissue separating your skin from his, you knew he was big. That made you drool.

Tamerlane had already thrown her pants away. Her shirt was unbuttoned, her bra lost on the floor. She continued to wear her panties, just because she liked the feeling of them rubbing against her hand.

You grabbed Bill's hand and placed it on your waist. "Squeeze," and he did. His hands roamed your body, and you began to rub yourself against his growing bulge.

You opened his pant, and smirked when you saw his cock. "Say please," you hissed.

Bill swallowed. He squeezed you, his nail digging into your skin, but it was a good pain. "Pretty please," that made you want to get him inside your mouth. Make him melt against your tongue, choke on him until your eye burns, let him occupy your mouth for the rest of the night. But Tamerlane said you were supposed to be on top of him, and you weren't going to disobey her.

You sliding your hand up and down, and saw as Bill closed his eyes. You pushed your thumb against a vein, following it until his most sensitive point. And Bill was indeed sensitive. How long has been since he was last worshiped?

"Tammy," Bill moaned. And when he did it, Tammy let a whimper escape her throat. You stopped breathing, filled with a sense of pride. Bill whispered sweet nothing, chills went down your spine.

When you took him inside you, inch by inch, Bill shuddered. He grabbed your body, scratched your skin, moaned Tamerlane's name. You squeezed your walls, and you saw when Bill lost control. When it was too good to think.

You didn't look at Tamerlane. You could feel her gaze burning you, you knew you only had to look in any of the mirrors to see her, but you didn't dare. You only heard the moans, the wet sounds that her pussy made. That added to Bill inside you almost made you lose control.

Almost, because you wanted them to lose it sooner.

Bouncing on his dick, Bill spread his thick muscular legs. You were surprised when he lifted his torso, pulling your body close, but his mouth against yours silenced any exclamations from you.

Bill held his back, and without any effort he changed the position. Him on top, your legs pinning him against you, his forearms resting on the bed. That kiss was more than anything. He devoured you. And he did it so well you didn't even remember that you were supossed to be on top of him.

Tamerlane also forgot about that.

She just imagined herself in your place. She imagined herself commanding, demanding, mocking him. Tamerlane imagined herself making him feel so good that she would need to remind him to touch her, to look at her, to breathe. And then Tamerlane found herself being overpowered. Being thrown on the bed because Bill felt so much pleasure that he simply needed more, he needed everything she could give him, he needed it even if it meant disobeying her.

And when Bill whimpered Love, when he moaned your name while fucking you so good, she imagine herself between you both. She imagined her fingers deep into you, feeling how warm and wet he made you for her. Tamerlane imagined Bill kissing her the way he did to you, with your hands tucking on her hair.

Bill brushed the hair out of your face. "So fucking pretty," he murmured against her mouth. You opened your eyes, your mouth turning in a soft smile, and you felt tears forming on your eyelid. Bill was even better than you imagined. "You're mine," he growled. "So fucking mine."

His digits found a home in your pussy, spreading your arousal against your clit. Your nails entered his skin, and with a little more force you would be able to make him bleed. And it was at that moment that Bill came apart inside you.

He filled you, made you complete, all while moaning against your face. You trapped him with your legs, leaving him even deeper inside you, and only then did you have the courage to look at her.

Tamerlane couldn't keep her eyes open. Couldn't see it. She felt so good, so soft, so on the edge of an orgasm that she couldn't control her body. Her arm burned, her fingers curled over her clit, but she couldn't stop. She couldn't do anything but continue.

So when she felt a soft tongue against her pussy, the moan sounded too much like a scream. But she opened her eyes, saw you kneeling, looking at her with so much desire, and thought of nothing but to continue. As well as letting you lick up every drop of her. Letting you make her feel as good as you made Bill just a few seconds ago.

Tamerlane imagined his cum dripping down your legs. She looked up, and saw Bill recovering on the bed. She saw his smile, the way he looked deep into her eyes. And she saw that he was happy. Really happy.

Tamerlane squeezed her hair, guiding your tongue tightly against her. She replaced her fingers with yours, and in no time Tamerlane came looking right into Bill's eyes.

He was hard. Again. Sitting on him, your back against Bill's sweaty chest, he fucked you deliciously. Again. Tamerlane licked your breasts, bit your nipples, rubbed her hand against your pussy in such a dirty way. Such a good way.

Embraced by them, you felt so right. Like you were at the exactly place you should be. Like everything in your life led you towards them. Or maybe it was just the second orgams coming.

When Tamerlane woke up later that same morning, the first thing she saw was you between them both. Bill sleeping peacefully, hugging you from behind with his hand resting on Tamerlane's tight.

And she just went back to sleep.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

#madwomansapologist #the fall of the house of usher #the fall of the house of usher fanfiction #the fall of the house of usher fanfic #the fall of the house of usher fic #the fall of the house of usher scenario #the fall of the house of usher oneshot #the fall of the house of usher imagine #tamerlane usher #tamerlane usher x reader #tamerlane usher x you #tamerlane usher x y/n #tamerlane usher fanfiction #tamerlane usher fanfic #tamerlane usher fic #tamerlane usher scenario #tamerlane usher imagine #tammy usher #william wilson #tfothou spoilers #willian wilson x reader #william wilson x reader x tamerlane usher #tamerlane usher x reader x william wilson #william wilson x reader #william wilson x you #william wilson x y/n #william 'bill-t' wilson x reader #the fall of the house of usher x reader

[the-fandom-abyss]

Verna Masterlist

[Fluff ♡] [Angst ❀] [Smut ☆]

Fics:

📍Inevitable ❀

HC:

📍Sweet Verna

#Verna #Verna x reader #tfothou #tfothou imagine

[madwomansapologist]

Hiya, was wondering what you hav in the works atm?

hiya!

well i have two headcanons for the good place. one being a sub!michael and the other a shawn falling in love.

from tfothou i have a lot of things. but those closer to being done is a oneshot about camille x journalist!reader and a tamerlane x reader x william. but i'm writing a few about this series.

i also have two oneshots for the addams family, but those are stuck with me for months. i'm trying to finish them, but it just isn't that easy.

there is the first chapter of my new series 'Moonlight Meets Sunlight', which is way longer than i thought it would be.

the seventh chapter of Autumn Thunderstorm. it's almost done.

but there's a few things on my queue: the second part for a agatha harkness oneshot and headcanons for ariel.

and now that you asked me this i realized that i wrote a lot the past few weeks. i'm kinda surprised with myself

#ask box