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#if yall want part 2 let me know
captain-yeet · 2 years
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How to be Human (Felix x Fem!Reader Oneshot)
Summary: Peace couldn’t always be for forever. The love of your life has been hurt, after he had constantly worried for your safety being in jeopardy. What happens when a man as strong and formidable as a mountain becomes human?
CW: None, hurt/comfort vibes, angst.
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Vampires and humans in relationships weren't rare, but uncommon enough that if such a thing were to happen, certain precautions were to be taken.
He'd always worried about me. I'm "small and fragile compared to him", after all. I'd always tell him, "Honey, I'm surrounded by vampires, one of them being you. It's gonna be fine."
I hadn't given much thought to the concept of someone hurting him.
I loved our shared room. It was cozy; Felix was a little bit plain when it came to décor save for some mounted weapons on the wall from his human days circa two thousand-something years ago.
Granted I was no grand interior designer myself. My contributions have been posted plants and one stylized painting of a cat meme done in the same style as Starry Night. Felix grudgingly let me hang that.
It was home. Our home.
I hope he comes home soon. Its supposed to be today. He'd been sent out on a job to look into some weird humans who'd supposedly been spreading the word about vampires in Italy, some odd 20 miles from Volterra.
Sunlight slowly creeped into the room through the curtain, engulfing the room in a gentle golden glow.
A knock brought me out of my calm reverie. Reluctantly, I rolled off the bed and trudged over to the door. Demetri stood there, white as a ghost. There was a faraway look in his eyes that immediately sparked alarm bells in my mind. “Dem, what’s wrong? Where’s Felix?”
Demetri swallowed. “He - I need to tell you something, dear. You’re not going to like this.”
My heart sped up. “Is he - no no, please tell me isn’t dea-”
Demetri grabbed me by the shoulders, his gaze intense. “No. Calm yourself. He is alive, but badly hurt. He wanted me to come talk to you to prepare you for the condition he’s in.”
 “What kind of condition?” I whispered, my mind going to the worst possible scenarios. Did he get burned? A burn was what I considered the worst. His beautiful face that always gave me the biggest smile whenever his eyes met mine.
Wordlessly Demetri held his hand for me to take. “I’ll take you to him now. I can explain on the way.”
My darling mate - my partner, my boyfriend, husband, soulmate -  had been attacked by a gifted vampire that temporarily took away his immortality. I watched him writhe uncomfortably in  a room some guards had set up as a temporary sick bay for him. Demetri and two others in the room who’s faces I didn’t recognize shared lost glances as the once strong vampire moaned and groaned in pain. They swiftly excused themselves, leaving me and Demetri alone with Felix.
 “Felix?” I cried out, moving past Demetri and to Felix’s side. I cupped my hand against his cheek; he was so clammy... Seeing his skin flush with color was so jarring, after being accustomed to his pale skin.
His eyes fluttered, squeezing shut momentarily before brown eyes met mine. Brown. Not red. The familiar vermillion gone and replaced with a woodsy brown. I couldn’t help the sob that left my lips and I pressed my forehead against his. 
 “Cara mia, you don’t need to see me like this,” he rasped. A sickly stench reached my nose and I recognized it was vomit. He’d been vomiting.
 “Well I’m here,” I retorted, softly, pulling back to give him an empathetic look. “Have you eaten? Had water?”
Felix’s brows scrunched. “Uh, water yes,” he replied slowly. “No food.”
He looked past me toward his best friend, the two sharing a long silent exchange.
The cogs were spinning in my head faster than I could keep up with. But I got the jist of the look. Turning my head to Demetri as well, I quietly asked him, “When was the last time he ate?”
Demetri opened and closed his mouth. He couldn’t meet my eyes, instead choosing to continue looking at Felix. “...We hadn’t thought of it, I’m so sorry.”
I loved Demetri. He had been an absolute sweetheart since I began living in Italy with Felix. I considered him a brother. A dear friend. Whenever Felix was away he’d be right there to keep me company, all I had to do was ask when he wasn’t busy. The fury the coursed through my veins at the immortal’s foolishness burned hot in my blood. 
 “He’s been turned human and you didn’t think he’d need to be fed? How long has he been like this?”
 “Y/N,” Felix croaked. I shushed him gently, stroking his face. 
 “How long?” I asked again, my voice cracking.
A short, five second silence filled the room.
 “Three days,” Demetri said so softly I almost didn’t catch it.
 “Three days?” I growled.
That’s it. Absolutely not. I rose to my feet, my hands gliding down Felix’s sweaty arms. “I’m taking him. I will care for him. How could you guys not have thought that maybe after, what, a millennia of immortality he wouldn’t need some kind of nourishment other than water?”
 “Two millennia,” Felix added, “I’m two thousand years old, baby girl.”
 “Darling I love you so much but please, let me handle this.”
I had to think. We had a kitchen in the castle, which had a considerate amount of dust plastered all over the countertops. No fridge. No modern or semi-modern-ish oven to work with. To be fair, only myself and the receptionists were the only humans in the castle that lived for longer than an hour long tour. And the receptionist had lunch breaks. Me, on the other hand, I’d either get lunch or go to the little apartment Felix had purchased for us in the city. 
He wanted us to have privacy to get to know each other, when the bond was first realized.
So I stormed out of the room shouting a command to Demetri to get him some water but not to let Felix drink all of it at once. If it had been days since he ate, he needed food immediately. There was a little sandwich place nearby that I love and adore. A simple footlong should sate him... hopefully. 
                                                              ~~~
 “Here, have this.”
I set the footlong onto Felix’s lap. I didn’t want to upset his stomach with anything too over the top. A simple ham and provolone sub with lettuce, tomato, mayo and honey mustard. Granted I just ordered what I normally get. But regardless, the sandwich would be perfect for his weakened state.
Demetri was openly staring at Felix, watching his every move. Felix looked at the sandwich, then to me, then to Demetri and repeated the cycle, his face turning a shade darker.
If he wasn’t starved like a dog, I’d be gushing over him blushing in embarrassment.
 “Dem stop with the staring,” I scolded him.
He cleared his throat, averting his eyes to the wall in front of him.
Gingerly, Felix picked up the sandwich, eyeing it like it was a small gross creature in his grasp. So much hesitation came with the first bite. While I sat with him I watched him attempt to chew. He had the idea of chewing down - the manners of keeping his mouth closed. He’d seen me eat. He knows how chewing works in theory.
In practice?
It was like watching a five year old try to be polite at the dinner table at a family gig.
After three bites he pushed the sandwich away, wrapping it back up and placing it on an end table next to the bed. I wanted to take away the sadness in him. He slouched in defeat, wrapping his arms around his stomach.
I reached out to wipe away some mayo at the corner of his mouth, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’ll take a bit until you feel a little better,” I informed him.
Felix pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his chin there. “Any word on the location of the one that did this to me?” He asked Demetri. I tried not to let it show he chose to ignore me. Not eating for thousands of years and suddenly needing to had to be a shock to his system...
But still, the way he couldn’t look me in the eyes...
 “I’ll be setting out soon with the twins to retrieve them. I know their location. They will be brought to justice,” he hissed, reaching out to clap Felix on the shoulder, albeit a bit too rough, the now human executioner grunting at Demetri’s hard handed reassurance. 
 “Demetri’s got this, honey,” I added, sharing a worried look with the tracker who had become like a brother to me. “He knows I’ll find a way to kick his ass if he doesn’t.”
Demetri chuckled. Felix didn’t.
A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Loud growling from Felix’s stomach interrupted the flow of conversation. 
Shaking his head, Demetri gently squeezed my shoulder with words of comfort before he bid farewell to us, leaving the two of us alone.
 “Let’s get you home, yeah?” I stood up and grabbed his discarded clothes that covered a nearby chair, setting them on the bed in front of him.
Felix slowly grabbed his shirt, taking pause. “If I don’t become immortal again...”
I sat next to him on the bed, replacing the shirt in his hands with my hands. “You will.”
 “But if I don’t.” he snarled, finally meeting my eyes. Tears brimmed in them threatening to spill over. “If, I don’t, I can’t protect you properly. I’m so, so sorry I failed you this way Y/N.”
Now it was my turn to be confused. “Failed me?” I repeated. “How? By becoming human for a little while? This isn’t your fault!”
 “By becoming weak! I promised you the day we confessed our love for each other that I would take care of you. You’re in my world now, embroiled in all the vampire nonsense and the politics, and the danger that comes with it. I need to be my strongest to make sure you’re always well protected and now that I’m mortal I cannot protect you from my kind.”
 “I don’t expect you to bear that weight alone!” I let go to cup his face in my hands, our eyes locked on each others. “We belong to each other, that means both of us protects the other, not just you taking care of me!” I reminded him.
That silenced him for a moment. “So, you don’t feel let down at all by me?”
This was what he was worrying about?
I responded by pressing my lips to his softly, putting as much passion and “I love you so much” energy behind it that I hoped he’d understand what I was trying to convey with my actions. “Not one bit, I breathed against his lips.
Strong arms wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me into his chest. I melted into his hold, throwing my arms around his neck, enjoying the sensation of his arms around me. Human or vampire I don’t think I’d ever get tired of his touch. 
Time became obsolete. I don’t know how long we stayed like that for. The sun had dimmed in brightness by the time we pulled away from each other. “Let’s go home, you can eat the rest of that when we get back and I’ll show you some good things about behind human. I plan on taking full advantage of this situation.”
Felix chuckled, wiping the tears from his face and looking at me with so much adoration I was thankful he couldn’t hear my heart falter under his intense, loving gaze. “Say less. Unless it involves the two of us in bed and me making you scream my name over and over again, then please tell me more.”
I threw his coat at his face with a giggle. “Felix!” I gasped, giving him a scolding look. The bastard knew what that kind of talk did to me. A small fire flickered to life that only he could douse.
Despite everything he smirked, knowing exactly what was going on in my mind and body. “You said we should take advantage of the situation. Now I can fuck you without wanting to drink your blood and you expect my train of thought to not go there when you say things like that?”
Oh I hated him and loved him fiercely. “Get dressed. I was talking about like, eating chocolate and things like that. Sleeping, for gods sake!”
 “There’ll be sleeping to come after you do, don’t worry darling.”
 “Get dressed. Now.”
 He put his shirt on and threw the covers off his body, swinging his legs out of the bed. Shaking his head he shimmied into his clothes. “Yes ma’am, what you say goes.”
We walked out of Volterra hand in hand back to our little piece of paradise we call home. I had full faith Demetri will find a way to reverse what’s been done. But for now, it’s time to take advantage and show my previously-a-vampire mate the fun parts of being human. 
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afewproblems · 1 year
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Eddie downs the last of his beer and tosses the empty red cup into the kitchen sink, right between a couple who were clearly gearing up to claim one of the spare rooms upstairs. 
Eddie snickers and winks as the girl tells him to fuck off while her boyfriend flips him the bird, god he loves highschool parties, and this one is no exception.
It's Halloween and business is booming for Eddie Munson.
He imagines Dian Fossey felt similarly, wandering through the Congo studying the great apes' behavior patterns and social structure from within rather than observing from afar. 
So far Eddie's observations have paid off in spades and he's managed to sell out most of his stash by targeting the basketball team and their girlfriends. No one wants to get high all by themselves after all, it's almost too easy the way these sheep all flock together. 
Eddie leaves the kitchen behind him, but not before snagging a can of something cold from a nearby cooler of half melted ice. With a decent buzz going, what's one more? He's done working for the night after all. 
Eddie climbs the stairs, dodging drunk teens left and right as they make their way past him, shirts ruffled and hair messy. Eddie snorts, ignoring the wistful pull in his chest as a tall boy on the swim team pulls his girlfriend closer to press a chaste kiss to the top of her head before smoothing her curls away from her forehead. 
Unfortunately no one Eddie would be interested in would accept him brushing their hair like that without punching him in the face.
He shakes his head and continues forward, he's an observer, nothing more. 
Eddie passes a closed door on the second floor and pauses as a raised voice splits through the wood.
"It's bullshit, you're bullshit," the voice slurs out and Eddie feels a wide grin pull at the corner of his mouth. 
He takes a step closer, nearly pressing his ear to the flat of the door.
"Like we're in love?" Another voice says softly, a guy, "you don't love me?" 
A small part of Eddie knows he shouldn't be listening to this, he can hear the waiver in this guy's voice like his heart is slowly cracking in his chest. Shit, he almost feels bad for this guy. 
But the people that go to these stupid parties, the Hawkins elite, the gorillas in the mist, deserve their bullshit --to use this girls turn-of-phrase.
The only reason they didn't mess with Eddie was because he was these highschool shit-heads main source of weed. 
Its karma, plain and simple, Eddie reasons as he presses even closer now.
"It's. Bullshit". The girl hisses emphatically and for a second Eddie hears nothing.
It happens so quickly after that. 
The door swings inward, causing Eddie to stumble into a tall firm chest as the bathroom guy collides with him.
"What the fuck?" The guy says as he pushes Eddie away from himself and --no way.
"Harrington?"
Steve blinks once, his wide hazel eyes red rimmed and shiny in the dim light of the hallway, the tip of his nose is pink as he reaches up to pinch it roughly before swiping across his eyes as well.
Even though Eddie's fairly certain that he and Steve are the same height, he seems smaller like this, deflated, standing in the hallway while a party rages down below them both. 
A cheer rings out, startling Steve into action.
He steps widely around Eddie, enough that his shoulder connects with the wall in his haste to take the stairs down, two at a time, as though Hell is hot on his heels. 
And Eddie should leave it, go back to the party, see if there are any snacks left before calling it a night, but something pushes him to follow the path Steve took.
It's like he's possessed, the haunted look in those hazel eyes forcing him forward until he's outside on the lawn.
A few other teens are outside, including a couple making out on the porch, Eddie steps over them and jogs to the end of the driveway.
He spots Steve down the street sitting on a large rock at the end of another neighbor's lawn with his face in his hands.
He looks up as Eddie gets closer and curses softly.
"Seriously? It wasn't enough that you were listening, you're following me now?" His voice cracks on the last word as he wipes his eyes again, he can't quite hide the way the moonlight catches the tear tracks running down his cheek and neck though.  
"Oh come on Harrington," Eddie says, walking up to Steve. He sits on one of the other rocks and takes a crumpled pack of smokes out of his vest pocket, "it's no fun if you're sad".
"What is?" Steve mumbles after a beat, wiping his eyes again as he stares at the ground. 
"Making fun of you," Eddie shrugs as he takes a cigarette and puts it between his lips, he smiles at the startled bark of laughter from Steve.
"You're a prick," he huffs softly, the barest of smiles slowly blooming across his face.
Eddie can count the constellation of freckles and moles across his face, giving the blanket of stars above them a run for their money. His hand twitches at the thought of touching the ones on Steve's throat.
Eddie coughs once, mentally tallying the number of drinks he must have had for those kinds of  thoughts and shifts on the rock to adjust his pants. 
He holds out the pack to Steve who looks at the nearly empty sleeve before his eyes shift to the house behind Eddie. 
"Nance hated cigarettes," Steve murmurs as the corner of his mouth twitches into a terrible frown. It's gone in an instant as Steve blinks once and reaches out for the pack.
"I got something stronger if you want?" Eddie offers, he shrugs when Steve looks up at him with suspicious eyes. 
"Come on Harrington, I'm not gonna keep kicking you when you're down, you need a pick-me-up and then I can get back into it," Eddie stands up and without thinking, holds out a hand towards Steve, "what do you say?"
Steve stares up at him, his eyes flick once to the outstretched hand before he snorts dryly and slowly takes his hand. 
It's warm in Eddie's own. The fingers squeeze gently as Steve uses it to hoist himself up until he's once again eye level with Eddie. 
From this close Eddie can see the way his eyelashes have clumped together with leftover tears and the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes
Oh…this, this was a bad idea. Eddie swallows roughly as Steve finally nods.
"Lead the way Munson," Steve says with the barest of smirks as he wipes his face one last time, "and if you tell anyone about this, I'll slash your tires".
Eddie cackles at that, "there he is!"
He claps Steve on the back as he leads them towards where he parked his van down the road, "our chariot awaits!"
Eddie ignores the small voice that whispers in his ear, the one that sounds remarkably like his uncle, as it asks him just what the hell he thinks he's doing with Harrington of all people? 
It'll be fine, he tells himself.
Besides, what's the worst that could happen?
Part Two
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he-calls-me-kitten · 2 years
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His Darling Apprentice
Solomon's growing lust for his precious student GN! MC.
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He thought it was curiousity and nothing more - this unprompted desire to see you every day. And you didn't disappoint. On the days he couldn't make it, you made sure you did.
Even if it was for 10 minutes between two classes, or dropping by Purgatory Hall on the weekends - your daily meeting was inevitable. He didn't realise how addicted he'd grown to it until it was too late.
It was as if his day didn't end until he had seen you atleast once, smiling and waving as you called out his name, rushing toward him when there was no need to. He wasn't going anywhere. He had simply grown fond of you, he decided.
It got worse, the more you became physically comfortable with him. Resting your chin on his shoulder to read his latest research, tackle hugging him when you finally got a difficult spell right, falling asleep on his lap during late night study sessions. On the days you didn't touch him, he lay sleepless at night.
⚜️
"Solomon! Right here, I've saved you a seat!" You waved to him as he entered the cafe. He smiled and let his body guide him.
It was such a natural thing now too. Whenever you both were in a room together, he'd come sit with you. And you never once, forgot to keep a place open for him.
"So this is the place Asmo is working at?" Solomon flinched at the overwhelming sweet scent in the room. You laughed. The best laugh he's ever heard.
"Yes it takes a while to get used to." You explained. "What else can we expect from a place that only serves desserts anyway, right? Oh there he is! Asmo!"
Solomon followed your gaze to see Asmo coming over to your table, holding two pink drinks on his tray. "Both my favourite humans came to see me! I'm so grateful to my beauty!"
"That uniform looks adorable on you. Is it comfortable?" You said, reaching out to touch the puffy sleeve. Asmo's response was a blur. Solomon's hand twitched involuntarily.
No, touch me instead.
He was shocked at his own thoughts. You literally live with seven other demons who fawn over you endlessly. He didn't think twice about it. Then why does he care now? And why was he imagining you in that cafe uniform too?
"Now here's the deadberry swirlie you two like so much. I added extra whipped cream for you, MC." Asmo winked before someone else called for him.
Solomon sipped from it, the sour and sweet of the drink refreshing his overcrowded brain. "It tastes as good as we remember it, doesn't it MC?"
"Yes. Just a tad bit too much whipped cream though." You laughed as you tried to clean the mess you'd made.
All around your mouth and fingers, dripping down your chin, traces lining down your neck and- Solomon shook his head to snap out of it. But you licking away at it was not helping his depraved spiraling thoughts, as he imagined something entirely unholy.
"Oops, you've got some on your chin too." You reached toward him, a dainty finger wiping off his skin. Your touch felt like a pleasant burn as he watched you lick your finger right after.
You realized none of it, but it was harder for him to keep up a conversation the entire evening.
⚜️
"Ah finally over!" You sighed in relief. "That was the longest assignment we had this term! Ridiculous! It's almost 2 am!"
"Oh come on, I'm sure you've tackled similar things in the human world." Solomon said, setting his paper down after the last revision. He chuckled to himself seeing you in such cute cat-themed pajamas.
"I doubt anything in the human world is tedious enough to make both Simeon and Satan fall asleep trying to finish." You said softly, glancing at the angel and demon asleep in their respective places at the shared table. You had kindly draped some blankets on them.
"Well atleast Operation Study Sleepover can conclude now." Solomon said, preparing to get up. "Now you go sleep on the bed, I'll take the couch, as decided."
He caught you pouting. You had really insisted on taking the couch instead but after a 3-2 round of rock, paper, scissor - you had to give into his rules instead. He tucked you in bed and watched you from the couch, making sour faces at him. Giving him the better blanket wasn't enough for you.
How can someone be this adorable?
He drifted off to sleep watching you twisting and turning in bed, trying to get comfortable. And when he woke up, there was a whole other suprise waiting for him.
"M-MC..." There you were, snuggled tight in his arms, under the same blanket. Your legs were draped over his. The weight of your thighs were nerve-racking and delightful. He felt your arms wrapped around his waist, your breath tingling the bare skin over his collar-bones.
He felt himself harden at your touch, your breath and your lips so close to his. He could lean over an inch and kiss you. Could he possibly dare? What if you hated him for it? No. He couldn't take that chance.
But he couldn't stay here either. He was bursting for release. He softly chanted a spell and found himself in the bathroom. Leaning against the cool tiles, he jerked himself off. The first of many, as he would discover soon.
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imreszekeres · 1 year
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YEAH :)
new general/murdersim Ash ref come n get itttt
Ash (she/they/he) is mine >:)
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ayyponine · 1 year
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girl help im going back n forth on whether or not i should send an email to thank the beautiful man fr letting me join the drawing session last week (more info on that entire situation here and here) and letting him know i probably wont be back but appreciate having had the experience either way. great or horrible idea leave a comment or DM to lmk.
#anyway more nuance on the whole situation is this. i am very single and this guy keeps being on my mind but i do not have any read on him#the last contact we had was me makin an ass of myself by going like hehe yeah this was nice everyone was nice ok yall have a nice evenin bye#while my heart was like visibly pounding out of my chest and u could probably see on my face i was internally thinking girl shut UP!!! LEAVE#so im like ok either hes weirded out by me so let me say thx AGAIN now in a composed way AND giving him peace of mind knowing i wont be back#unless?? i was not as awkward as i thought & get reassured i can return any time and then i could still b like thanks! and just Not go#i mean even then he might say it's fine even if he IS uncomfrtable w me just to 1. be nice and 2. make money w a participant locked in yknow#it does NOT help that the line btwn casual and professional was like NOT there btw its him just hosting the event as we all do our art idkkk#anyway if you THINK youve PROBABLY been a lil off is it better to 1. have a do-over and get closure or 2. fuck off forever hoping u never#like EVER run into the dude again and be awkward AGAIN bc well! u live in the same city and are both into art so?? there IS a possibility#I CAN SEE THE PROS AND CONS OF BOTH OPTIONS REALLY#yay for sending email: get a response get some clarity NOW. nay for sending email: girl u met him twice. please. leave the stranger alone <3#the one positive abt me feeling Dumb and Embarrassing is at least every time i think back i heave a Big Ole Sigh. feels nice tbh feels good#sad part is i rediscovered how much i love doing art and want to improve. would love to return it was so cheap.. pleek ill get over my crush
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photomatt · 7 months
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You gonna do anything or make any statement about the rampant transmisogyny on this hellsite, especially in cases like predstrogen recently? Or yall gonna stay silent and keep letting/making us get pushed off of it.
I have a number of asks about this, so this is to address all of them, I won't do each individually.
We generally do not comment on individual cases, but because there seems to be mass misinformation around this, I will make an exception and comment on predstrogen.
First, Tumblr has a number of LGBT+ including trans people on staff, and they see things from the inside fully, and they're not protesting this case.
Why do we wrongly have a transphobe reputation? We did have an external contract moderator last year that was making transphobic moderation (and also selling moderation, criminally). As soon as we were aware that person was fired, and we later terminated the entire relationship with that contracting firm and have brought almost everything in-house (at great cost). I have previously commented on this publicly, several times.
I am not aware of any Automattician (people who work at Automattic and Tumblr) who has made any transphobic moderation actions. If it's reported it is investigated immediately, if anything were found that person would be terminated for cause immediately.
Predstrogen's account was suspended for:
Repeated mis-tagging of adult content against Tumblr's community guidelines. This has nothing to do with clothed transition photos, she had 20+ other blogs and multiple accounts with names so explicit I can't post them here without a mature tag.
Multiple cases of harassment of other Tumblr users, not just me.
Multiple threats of violence, not just the one I share below.
These represent a breach of our Terms of Service, and we've exercised our right to refuse service.
Threats of violence are never okay. Threats of violence are not protected speech. We will work with police and FBI where appropriate, though to be clear prestrogen's case hasn't warranted that so far. I'm referring to what we may potentially do for other threats. I just got a death threat yesterday from someone mad about predstrogen, and that account was immediately terminated.
So regardless of whether you still think Tumblr staff is somehow a bunch of transphobes, know that threats of violence or death are still not acceptable and will result in immediate and serious action. Know that when you rile people up, they can do dumb things with possibly permanent consequences.
(2 hours later update: I have changed instances of the pronoun "they" or "their" to "the account" because I am unaware of pronoun preference in this instance and don't want to misgender anyone. Thank you for the people who reported this as an issue. Update 2: "She" is apparently better, the post now says that. Sorry for the mistake.)
Here's one (of many!) examples of the harassment violations, this one targets me but there are others targeting other users on the site.
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The second part seems to indicate she wanted to be suspended, I'm unaware of why, perhaps to create this sort of uproar. I agree the hammers feel silly, but the start, "i hope photomatt dies forever a painful death" is a violation of Tumblr's community guidelines and terms of service.
The car part did hit close to home as I have almost died twice in car accidents.
Update 2: Added this text to the adult content part: This has nothing to do with clothed transition photos, she had 20+ other blogs and multiple accounts with names so explicit I can't post them here without a mature tag.
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hamilando · 2 months
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ੈ✩ wrong couple ? (smau) ੈ✩
pairing : lando norris x fem reader
summary : the chaotic process of Lando getting a wife
fc: Olivia Culpo
a/n : This is a series, and this is PART 2, let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part ! it was requested anonymously, thank you for requesting it 🫶🏻
·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚
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liked by landonorris, alexandramieux and 137,937 others
ynculpo sunsets with the best man I could get 🌅
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user1 I saw what she did there 🗿
user2 MA'AM!? WHAT IS THE CRUISE FOR !?
user3 istg everyone is just posting pics and not telling anything
user4 MAX AND KELLY GOT ENGAGED !?
user5 #KELLAX
user6 that sounds like a crime mob name 😭
landonorris forever and ever 🧡
liked by ynculpo
user7 I luvvv how lando's media personality is different from his real one
user8 Sir Lando, please lend em your gf, she is too gorgeous 🤺
user7 Only Lewis is Sir, Lando is master 🫦
charlesleclerc mama and papa 🐱
ynculpo HELL NO- I CANT BE A GRANDMA AT 24
oscar.piastri 😔
ollie.bearman 😔
ynculpo stop, you have alex
fransisca.gnomes I am stealing her lando
landonorris sure, take her for the day, because her nights are mine
maxverstappen1 you horny ass
landonorris what? you never watch Netflix and chill with Kelly ?
maxverstappen1 😒
user9 did he mean netflix or chill
user10 or NETFLIX AND CHILL
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liked by maxverstappen1, ynculpo, landonorris, fransisca.gnomes and 1,284,294 others
kellypiquet mijn wereld ❤️
view comments
maxverstappen1 to many more years and watching P grow ❤️
liked by kellypiquet
user1 IS THAT A RING ON HER RING FINGER
user2 THE CRUISE WAS INDEED FOR HER AND MAX’S PROPOSAL
user3 THEY ARE GETTING MARRIED
user4 congrats to the best couple 🌟
user5 max really took that groomer as his wife…
user6 can you like not spoil their special day ?
user7 max, pls tell Lando to propose to yn as well
user8 fr, they have been dating for almost 4 years now
fransisca.gnomes my heart 🥹
liked by kellypiquet
landonorris best sil 🧡
liked by kellypiquet
user9 LANDO’S COMMENT
user10 LANDO JUST CONFIRMED
user11 damn, max flexing his money from this proposal
user12 if my standards are not up-
user13 fr, DAMIAN, YOU BETTER PROPOSE TO ME IN PRIVATE HIRED CRUISE
user14 who is damian? user13 my bf 🗿
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liked by landonorris, kellypiquet and 849,278 others
maxverstappen1 best man duties
view comments
user1 TOLD YA
user2 HE IS GETTING MARRIED YALL
user3 EVEN KELLYY LIKED
user4 she likes all posts 🗿
user5 MY PENELOPE AND MAX HEART
user6 MAX VERSTAPPEN, 3 TIME WORLD CHAMPION IS NOW MARRIED
user7 we got one more down before Lewis 🤺
landonorris 😏🙃
liked by maxverstappen1
charlesleclerc so excited 💪🏻
liked by maxverstappen1
carlossainz55 tequilla and music 🌇
liked by maxverstappen1
user8 THE GRID DRIVERS ARENT EVEN DENYING IT
user9 GRID MARRIAGE WOOHOHOHOHOHOHO
user10 but isn't the best man for someone else's wedding ?
user11 wait..
user12 WHAT
user13 y'all it's him and Kelly getting married only, being a best man for Kelly ?
user14 makes sense
user15 y'all are dumb
user16 why is Lando in all the pics tho?
user17 can't there be friends 😒
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liked by user1, user2, user3, and 483,683 others
f1wags New Marriage in grid !? A huge ‘marry me’ was seen in the ocean, presumably where the f1 grid cruise was passing by. With the recent post of Kelly Piquet, Max Vertsappen’s girlfriend, it seems she is the new Mrs. Verstappen ?
view comments
user1 AHAHAHAHAHAH
user2 told ya-
user3 where is my invite ?
user4 to all the haters, TAKE THAT
user5 can’t wait for more max x penelope crumbs 🥹
user6 that man seriously showed off his wealth for the proposal
user7 they look cute together ngl-
tg: @lydia-demarek @mel164 @h34rts4maisey @poppyflower-22 @dolphlinda
@ilivbullyingjeongin @fangirlforever2000 @magnusi-97 @clo5406 @yesmanbabe
@wosof1 @luvsforme @nikfigueiredo @evie-119 @clarenciago
@raynetargaryan2 @brekkers-whore @lifesass @formula1-motogpfan @yawn-zi
@barcelonaloverf1life @jxnellat @gigicisneros @yukimaniac @l-sofiamia-l
@s0phiad @shiftermeance @coriyaps @formulaal
@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @landotd @fulla02 @orlafitz1664
@abq654 @mastermindbaby @awritingtree @nichmeddar @emz2092
@mysteriesincorporated @dramallama9 @emxlando @ahnneyong @burkylover
@czennieszn @weekendlusting @charli123456789 @mamako23
@mxdi0 @claudiajacobs
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sm-baby · 5 months
Text
TADC fanart masterpost! (WIP)
Not a "must read" i just wanted to put them all in one place :3c yall can just play russian roulette with these... have fun!
TADC CARNIVAL AU Masterpost
General The Amazing Digital Circus comics:
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The Confession booth || Dubbed Version by @briandraws || Dubbed Version by @volticglitch
Exit door (Kofi request)
General Doodles
First ever TADC POST!
Second ever TADC post!
OMG I lovveee The Amazing Digital Circus
Caine Expression test!
Pomni Doodles
Beat his ass, Pomni
Christmas:
You did great || Dubbed Version by @volticglitch
You did Great (Part 2) || Dubbed Version by @mramazingva
The Snowman Comic || Bonus
Mistletoe
Bubble and Harold
Happy Holidays!
Able:
Able.AI introduction post!
Oh Able fucking died
Stop hitting your brother, Caine
Brothers Communication!
Able Voice Claim
Able let go of them!!
Babygirl pose
Big hands
Catboy Able???
Able put your clothes back on!
My, what a lovely drawing!
Able Doodles!!
Cutie patootie!
How'd you get there!!
Oh no Pomni
Gangle... ayo...
Company's Boys!
Showtime (Caine x Pomni):
First ever Showtime post!
God damn it, Jax!!
Char.AI joke
Caine has no body!
Comic Pomni and Caine wedding
Sleep
Doodle dump!
Dance with me!
Doodle dump (Again)!
Casual relationship || Dubbed version by @mramazingva
Asking out Caine || Dubbed Version @mramazingva
Doodle Page!
Doodle dump! (again again)
Pomni no!!
Doodle time (Feat. Able, Ragatha)
Doodle dump (again again again)
This, too, is showtime
Marriage!
Plushy showtime!
Showtime and other's support!
The Siblings Episode:
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Meet The Pomni Sisters and The Raggedy siblings!
Join in, sister!
Randy and Ragatha!
Meet Pomni and Pomni!
Meet Jingle!
Meet Kingly!
Meet Jillz!
Zooble's Sibling?
Kinger and Kingly
I don't know what you expected
How Great They are
They're not real
Thoughts on Caine?
Thoughts on Caine? gone wrong this time
the wonders of sisterhood
Night 1 !!!!!!
Freakshow AU (Fan content): WIP bc im tired !!
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Desclaimer: The AU is made by @hootbon ! I draw a lot of Showtime about it, but showime is not canon! This is just me being indulgent and being a fan of her amazing work.
FREAKSHOW AU Fanfics Masterpost
Meet Freakshow Able!
"The Mansion" Skinset
Freakshow and Carnival Merge (Mini AU)
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jinkiezzsstuff · 7 months
Text
At First Sight PT2
Alastor x doe!reader
PART ONE PART 3
this is a short part 2 to a request, tbh i didn’t think about continuing it before so i struggled a bit and it’s quite short! i’m so sorry gang ;-; i hope it satiates yall if not lemme know what i can cook up for you
Warnings: love sick alastor + reader, ooc alastor, mates/soulmate trope, mentions of reproduction and pregnancy (dw yall i didn’t do the no no there is no pregnancy it’s just mentioned bc it supposed to be gn), short short, swearing, not proof read, hmmmm i think that’s it lmk whatcha think
wee little taglist for the people who asked kiss kiss: @fairyv-ice @chirimeimei
Tucked underneath Alastors chin you laid comfortably alongside him in bed. You’d been awake awhile now tail thumping softly behind you as you watched the demon sleep his smiled soft and barely showing. He laid in pyjama bottoms only chest bare and on display for you. You absentmindedly traced the scars along his torso feeling him respond with goosebumps every now and again.
“Goodmorning my doe,” Alastors voice rang out, killing the silence. It was shocking to hear his static gone and his regular voice out on display, dripped in sleepy sultry. “Good morning my buck.” You reply sickeningly sweet while crawling up to lean over his face, his eyes were lidded now gazing at you with a loving look in his eyes.
“Did you sleep well?” You asked playing with the stray hair that swept across his face. “Indeed darling very well. I should be good for several days.” He chirped happily, ears flicking. “We should head down, i need to talk to Charlie.” You say with a grimace.
Last night when Charlie caught you and Al, you felt guilty, you knew Charlie was a sweetheart but you practically abandoned her all day for Alastor, then scared her silly with a deal and sex! Groaning you grab your head while Alastor stood. With a snap of his fingers the two of you were dressed, and that did take a load of stress of you. “Come now my doe, I’ll be there the whole time, no shame and if there is we’ll be ashamed together!”
Alastor seemed pretty bright in his exclamation holding his arm out to you. Obviously you trusted Al you gave yourself and soul to him and only him just last night. So while attached at the arm the two of you trotted downstairs.
Arriving downstairs interlocked you were both greeted by all the patrons already in the living area next to the bar. Charlie was the first to make a noise gasping, meanwhile Angel was practically vibrating in his seat. Just as Angel was about to talk Vaggie interrupted. “You made a fucking deal!?” Screamed the fallen angel, hands thrown behind her as the rest of her body lurched forward. Frowning you bit your lip, of course this was gonna be an awkward conversation with Charlie, but with the whole hotel listening. Even worse!
“Neva mind that Vagina! Let’s talk about the real stuff. How big? Seven? Eight? Twelve?! Ouch-“ Vaggie knocked Angel over the head with the back of her spear. “Yikes alright, twelve is greedy…. ten?” Angel whispered cackling at Vaggie who growled at her. Alastor, obviously unhappy, began to crackle with static, black shadows oozing out from the floor and encompassing the room slowly.
At the sight of Alastor’s figure demonically stretching the room fell silent, you only gazed up at the deer slightly aroused by his stature and the way his antlers screwed out like branches. “You’re quite the sight.” You say dreamily, barely even noticing you spoke to begin with, Alastor’s head cracked down to you. Coming back to himself Alastor hummed out adoringly, petting your head but wanting to kiss you, unfortunately that was a step too far for him right now.
“Uhm anyway, YN, can you please tell me about the deal?” Charlie begged worry on her face as she looked to you and Alastor. You felt the guilt crawl at you again. “I… well I’m not sure why but there’s just this pull i have to Alastor, he asked me to be his i said yes i…” You veered off feeling too embarrassed by all the eyes, thankfully Alastor pulled you in theatrically waving his microphone around, taking the attention off you.
“Well this lovely doe was just made for me you see? I’m perfectly capable of protecting such a divine creature and though I don't doubt your ability, princess I'd feel a lot more comfortable being the one to do so.” Alastor fired off sounding like a proper radio host as he did so. Charlie looked confused but then perked up happily.
“This is thee perfect redeeming quality Alastor, love is so pure! This is great!” As Charlie felt giddy, Vaggie felt suspicious eyeing the red demon. “So what did you even sell- what was the deal?” You hummed tapping your finger to your lip; well you didn’t know, just that you gave yourself to him.
Looking up to Alastor for help here he happily obliged. “Worry not you angry little woman,” Alastor replied, pinching Vaggies cheek, her angrily pushing him off. “The contract was nothing greater than marriage.” The entire room, yourself included, was surprised at this. You knew this was a soul binding contract, but for him to make that connection on his own was well to you sweet as ever. Your tail flicked happily behind you as you looked to Alastor who returned to your side.
Charlie was as equally as happy as you were, but Vaggie and Husk kept within the same boat of apprehension. “Why so suddenly?” Asked Vaggie again, but Alastor shrugged her off. “I’m unsure dear, just that i couldn’t resist this little doe. Like fate.” Alastor pondered meanwhile you briefly seethed at Alastor for referring to Vaggie as dear.
“Maybe it’s like some soulmate bullshit between deer?” Angel pipped up, putting in his required two cents. Husk groaned at that, but Charlie squeaked jumping up. “That is totally possible! It happened with my dad! Well, y’know in the beginning.” Charlie chuckled, brushing her hair behind her ear. Alastor shook his head rapidly a soft laugh echoing out of him.
“No way dear, how is that possible?” He mocked bopping Charlie atop the head with his mic, you again weren’t happy hearing him call another demon dear, but you let it fly. “Well you both are deer, could it be instinctual?” Charlie reasoned her pitch, giving away her uncertainty.
You hummed looking up towards Alastor to see him already looking down to you. “I think Alastor and I would need to talk about it privately before we have a group conversation about it. It’s kinda of embarrassing.” You admit already tired of the discussion. Charlie however didn’t like the idea of not having an answer, so with a plan in mind she turned to Vaggie. “Vaggie can you take them to the library, maybe look some stuff up online? We need to figure this out.” Charlie asked giving Vaggie a look that conveyed this was more of a do this rather than a can you do this.
Nodding her head Vaggie looked at you, who looked at Alastor. Alastor shrugged and muttered he didn’t see the issue, so long as you were safe. So you and Vaggie headed off, meanwhile Charlie calmly asked to speak with Alastor in private.
Alone in Alastor’s radio tower, Charlie sat on one side of the broadcasting table while Alastor sat behind it, tunes playing out of him. “So Al,” Charlie started breathing out a deep breath. “Can you please tell me what’s going on with the deal, listen i can’t have them get hurt! I’ll even make a deal.” Charlie said sadly gazing off, she didn’t want to make a deal, but she would.
Alastor watched her, and pitied her odd behaviour. Resting his chin on his hand Alastor sat quietly for a moment, Charlie waiting with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. “It was nothing malicious that i can assure you. Although, i’m not sure what happened between them and myself, I felt pretty agressive in my feelings to protect them. Of course that private moment between us should’ve stayed private,” Alastors words were stern as he glared down at Charlie who shrunk bashfully in her seat.
“But suppose since you know i will confess in that moment of intensity, i did the only thing I knew how to do to my dear. I’m not particularly good with emotions, and so I simply ensured I’d have them with a deal.” Tapping his nails on the desk Alastor kept his composure but inside he was scolding himself for even letting that much truth out. Charlie seemed to like the sound of that though, nodding her head in agreement.
“So you won’t, and you don’t have any plans to hurt them?” Alastors ears pinned back subconsciously, he didn’t enjoy being accused of cruelty when it came to you, and he didn’t know he could be any more truthful. “My dear i swear, on my mother, not a hair on their pretty doe head, will ever be hurt by me.” Holding his right hand up, head high Alastor watched as Charlie eased into a smile. Nodding at him.
Rejoining the crew downstairs Alastor and Charlie were shocked to see you and Vaggie had returned. “How come you guys are back so quick?” Vaggie turned at the sound of Charlie’s voice, eyes bugged slightly. “Yeah you won’t believe what we found.” Vaggie said handing Charlie a book about demons and mating. Charlie didn’t seem too keen on the book ‘uhs’ immediately falling from her mouth.
You stepped up, opening the book to the checked marked place. “It’s species dependent on how mating affects someone, in this case Doe’s are more of a rarity in hell meaning it was an instinct for the two of us to kinda ‘mate’ or ‘bond’ to one another, as if we had to worry about going extinct.” You scoffed watching as Charlie glazed over the words while listening to you. “Weird. It must be because you’re a hellborn and an angel, so technically you can reproduce.”
A record scratch sounded out from Alastor, the lot of you looking towards his stiff figure. “Don’t worry Al, we’re pretty sure you’re still unable to.” Charlie hushed to him, before giving you a look that told you, she didn’t really know that to be true. You weren’t worried though, almost a hundred percent certain that he would not be able to have children. “Welp, at least now we know that’s a thing,” Angel sighed from the background, Vaggie glaring at him.
Pulling you into his side Alastor grinned his poise returned. “Look at us figuring stuff out why wasn’t this just the teamwork we all needed, good job.” Alastor applauded slightly condescending, but Charlie was happy with it nonetheless giving two thumbs up to you and Alastor.
2K notes · View notes
landograndprix · 4 months
Text
╰┈➤ ❝ desire us • l.n c.l ❞ i
part two
➪ life changed after you decided to go through it as a single woman, offering your daughter the best life she deserves, focusing on work, friends and family but damn, that guy.
➪ life is good and so is your 'friendship' with lando
➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando
➪ book two is here & im so so sorry it took so long :( this takes place 2/3 years after desire. I kept the taglist from the first part of this series but let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore. Comments and feedback are welcome <3 **I fucked up with Shangai gp and Suzuka, please pretend you never saw that 😭
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y/nusername
📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco
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liked by manon_roux, charles_leclerc and 578,982 others
y/nusername meeting manon's mini 👶🏻
tagged manon_roux
view all 1,212 comments
norrizz welcome to the world manon's mini! <3
milliexoxo he's here! Will drop by soon 💙
↳ manon_roux still in florida with your boy?
milliexoxo yessss ☺
logansargeant what's his name, logan?
manon_roux boy you wish :')
logiebear still not over the fact logan is a part of this silly ass friend group 😂
norry4 congrats to Manon & Alice 🍼
joris__trouche bienvenue petit garçon 💙 (welcome baby boy)
landooooo zoe would make a great big sister 👀
↳ carlandooo bet lando would love to volunteer 👀
landooooo lando give y/n a 2nd baby pls 😭
norrisgp what the actual fuck is wrong with you guys?
landonorris thanks for the nephew 💙
landonorris his name's lando right?
↳ alicedidier 🖕
landonorris classy
yukisan MANON HAD A BABY?!
↳ landoscar girl her and her wife have a whole football team already 💀
yukisan WIFE?!
charles_leclerc bébé, tu es déjà tellement aimé 👶🏻💙 (baby boy, you're so loved already)
leclerc_16 all these men in the comments having massive baby fever lmao
charlos16 I personally think Charles and y/n should give zoe a sibling
↳ norry4 leave them alone jfc
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y/nusername
📍 Australia
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 462,781 others
y/nusername straya 🇦🇺
view all 1,222 comments
oscarpiastri would've given you a tour if you'd told me you were here
↳ y/nusername I've been here before, I know my way around :')
oscarpiastri I guess what i'm trying to ask is; do you want to hang out?
y/nusername no, I only want to hang out with lily
oscarpiastri that's fair and totally understandable
landoscar I love them your honor 😭
norrizz just two girlie girls living their best lives 🥺
charles_leclerc c'est définitivement ta fille 😂 (definitely the your daughter)
↳ arthur_leclerc deux divas (two divas)
y/nusername tu devrais peut-être te regarder dans le miroir une seconde ;) (maybe you should look in the mirror for a second)
joris__trouche trois divas dont Arthur 😂 (three divas including Arthur)
y/nusername fais-en quatre parce que tu es le plus grand de tous 🤣 (make that four because you are the biggest one of them all)
norry4 can't wait to see your pretty face on TV again <3
milliexoxo thanks for the invite..
↳ y/nusername you're welcome 😘
logansarge mom abandoning her child again lol
hamilt44n pls continue to humble Danica this season 😂
sharl16 I'm counting 3 adorable koalas in this post 🐨
landonorris do you want to build a snowman?
↳ y/nusername no
landonorris oh ☹️
y/nlando please y'all still so cute :(
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y/nusername
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liked by manon_roux, oscarpiastri and 413,678 other
y/nusername osc & co.
tagged: milliexoxo, oscarpiastri, landonorris
view all 1,319 comments
mrsnorris interesting
oscarpiastri knew I was being watched
norrisfour in the mclaren garage again? Interesting indeed 👀
↳ bott_ass she was in Oscar's side of the garage, calm your tits
norrizz yall need to chill out, she's with mclaren, ferrari and williams most of the time. She's friends with their drivers. Give it a break.
logansarge what the hell millie, a mclaren hoodie?! 😭
↳ milliexoxo I'm sorry, it was the first thing I found in y/n her suitcase!
landoscar it's alright bestie, we know it's your favorite team <3
milliexoxo don't tell my bf :(
charlos16 dinner with lando you say?
maxfnorris where's zoë?
↳ sharl16 she's got a dad too yknow?
maxfnorris I never see them together
sharl16 then you need a pair of glasses cause youre blind as shit, Charles loves to show off his daughter 💀
landonorris starting to feel you're a bit obsessed with osc
↳ y/nusername just a bit?
landonorris a bit too much
manon_roux same 🥰
y/nusername yeah, don't you just want to pinch his cheeks and ruffle his hair?
manon_roux i just want to kidnap him and put him in my basement
oscarpiastri this is getting weird now, should I be worried?
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y/nusername posted to their story
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manon_roux replied to your story
manon_roux
What are you doing in London?
I mean I know why you're in London but want to see if you're going to be secretive about it again 😂
y/nusername
?
manon_roux
No shame in visiting the people you'll call your in laws in a couple of months 😉
y/nusername
Don't you have a newborn to look after?
manon_roux
He's taking a nap
If he let's me, I'll have 20-30 minutes to annoy you
Are you staying at his place?
y/nusername
I hope Noah keeps you up at night
manon_roux
He's got a one bedroom flat, right?
y/nusername
He's got a couch
manon_roux
lol and who's sleeping on it? You?
He's not letting you sleep on his couch and you're not letting him sleep on the couch either
y/nusername
People can sleep in the same bed without anything going on
We did it before
manon_roux
we never dated nor do we still have feelings for each other
y/nusername
I'm glad you know how I feel
manon_roux
Bubs you're an open book to me, it's written all over your face
Even your baby daddy is trying to get you two back together
y/nusername
what?
manon_roux
oh c'mon charles is trying so damn hard to get you and lando back together, don't play dumb with me 😂
you meeting up with mum and dad norris? 🥰
y/nusername
You've been hanging out with millie too much
manon_roux
and you've been hanging out with my wife too much because why are you ignoring my questions?
y/nusername
Suck my nonexistent dick babes
manon_roux
I tried for years babes but turns out your into British goblins :(
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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseoki @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @devineendevers @celestialend @jsjcue @d3kstar @themislovesf1 @geehsf @mehrmonga @gentlemonsterworld
Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew @mcmuppet @justdreamersdream
Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-cm @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader @norwayxo @sunny44 @honeymoonelvis47
1K notes · View notes
all444miles · 1 year
Text
— JERSEY LUV
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— pairing: e-42 miles x black!fem!reader — genre: suggestive, but fluff. — summary: attractive things Miles does that just make you fold instantly. — a/n: this was js in my drafts n i was like "i should post this" while yall waiting 4 my new fic !! the entire time i was writing this I was losing my absolute SHITTT. 😭 Like, i was dead by the first hc. this might as well be those "what's it like dating miles" type shi but i wanted to make it diff, yk? listen to some kind of fold-worthy song while u read this - anyways, im waffling. enjoy, mls !! part 2 part 3 !
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MILES MORALES that does not take your attitude. He loves you, yes, but if you do too much or talk crazy, he's gonna put you in your place. It's nun violent, of course, but he may just grab your neck once or twice.
"Chiquita, watch yo tone wit me." "Drop that attitude f'me." "Miss me with that voice, ma."
MILES MORALES that manspreads. that's it. that's all.
MILES MORALES that's always gonna call you by some kind of nickname. He just loves it, and you do too. Princesa, ma, hermosa, the list goes on and on. One time he called you lil mami (if you're shorter) and you actually lost it.
MILES MORALES that always has his hands on you. Your waist, your thigh, your face, everywhere. He just needs to make sure your there.
MILES MORALES that lives for your kisses and always kisses you. Doesn't matter the place, the time, nothing. If he wants a kiss from you, or wants to give you some, it's gonna happen. Especially when you have lipstick/lipgloss on.
"Mi reina, lemme love on you."
MILES MORALES that drives with one hand because his other always on your thigh. It's like his lil resting spot.
MILES MORALES that'll always let you know he misses you, he'll spam you with "i miss you" texts or voice notes w him going on abt his day when you not around ‹3
MILES MORALES that has social media but only uses it to post you. You the love of his life, why wouldn't he let evb else know that?
MILES MORALES that loves to spoil you. You like that pandora bracelet? It's yours. You have a shein cart? Its on its way. He loves to spoil his girl, its his love language atp.
MILES MORALES that always keeps eye contact with you and make sure you keep contact with him whenever yall talking. dont look away if he say sum that makes you fold, he gon grab your chin and make you face him 🤭
"Nah nah baby, don't turn away. Keep ya eyes on me."
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quick @ to my boo @laaailuh
© all444miles 2023. do not plagerize, copy, or repost my work in any way shape or form, without my permission.
likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !
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urfriendlywriter · 1 year
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friends to lovers heart fluttering moments:
(feel free to use<3 i miss being active :') TAG ME WHEN YALL WRITE PLSSS WOULD LOVE TO READD )
running into their arms after being away for too long !!!!
leaning into each other when laughing.
casually linking arms, holding-hands, sharing hugs that lasts a teensy tiny bit longer. AHHHHH
them watching you do ur own thing with so much admiration [I've one want in life-]
"why?" "because it's you." (like them doing smthng espeviallyyforu)
"I'll do anything, as long as it's with you." n they nonchalantly say it.??? ( MA SONGG OMG)
spending more time together than usual
having your parents tease you and ship you together > ~ <
teasing them and they actually blush???
getting physically close during the denial phase. IMAGINE KISSING AND FREAKING OUT SAYING, "friends... kiss. right?"
getting ur breath hitched whenever they're too close.
imagine lingering with ur mouth slightly parted while both of ur noses brush, eyes fluttering just wondering---where this is going.
^ AND WHEN THEY SAY, "fuck it. may i kiss u?" but their voice is so low, yearning so hard.
getting noticeably shy after going a lil too hard on the kissing--"it's ok, we're still friends, right?"
a third person NOTICING IT AND going, "oh SO yall are the type to kiss and nOT TELL?" "WhAT NO, WE DIDNT-" "YEAH WE DIDN'T."
^ but one if one of them is an idiot n they go, "HOW DID U NOTICE?" "ha, so i was correct. yall mfs-!!!"
and the realising phase of how much you like them
and not being able to wait until u see them. so u can confess, get it out and about.
or what if? they end up ur house at 4 am in pouring rain and say, "i know we're best friends, but i want to be more. Let me be yours forever please, and not just as friends this time." AAAAAAAH.
SCREAMING N FIGHTING KISSING IN THE RAIN, ITS 2 AM N UR LOVIN THEIR NAME SO IN LOVE BUT U ACT INSANEEE N THATS THE WAY U LOVE THEMMM
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dollgxtz · 17 days
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His Watchful Eye Pt. 3
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Word Count: 9k
Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, noncon, dubcon, drugging, kidnapping, obedience training, mentions of suicide, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, stalking, pet names like kitten, sweetie, pretty, ownership, manipulation
Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh, @eliasxchocolate, @nozomiaj, @xmiisuki, @sylus-kitten, @its-regretti , @m0onlustre , @ve1vet-cake @letgobro @starkeysslvt, @yarafic, @prince-nikko, @leialmela
AN: It seems like these chapters just get longer and longer xDD. Hope yall don't mind! This is also on my A03 if you feel its too long to read on tumblr. Please heed the warnings and don't read this if you're sensitive to the subjects. Also! Reader has no specific skin tone, I just use images I think represent the chapter well, you can imagine her however you want! If you want to be added to the taglist please let me know, also please make sure your tumblr settings allow you to be tagged! <3
"I hate you," you whisper, your voice barely audible, muffled by his chest. The words come out broken, hollow, lacking the fire they once carried. But it’s all you can manage, the last flicker of resistance in a sea of overwhelming fatigue. "I know," Sylus replies, his voice soft and almost indulgent, as though your hatred is just another part of the game to him. He holds you tighter, his hand continuing to caress your hair. "But it doesn’t matter, sweetie. You’re mine now. Hate me all you want, I’ll still take care of you."
Read Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 4
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You ease yourself into the bath, the water just a touch hotter than you'd like, enveloping your skin in a near-burning sensation. It’s almost too much, the heat prickling at your body, but you stay still, letting the warmth slowly settle around you. Steam rises in soft, curling tendrils, and you can feel the tension in your muscles begin to release, even as the heat clings to you, almost suffocating in its intensity. Your breath catches for a moment, but soon you adjust, your body reluctantly surrendering to the soothing, yet overwhelming, embrace of the water.
Despite the searing heat, you slowly begin to lose yourself in thought. When was the last time you'd allowed yourself to truly relax since this whole nightmare began? As much as you hated to admit it, the water felt good—comforting even—offering a fleeting sense of escape. For once, your worries seemed to dissolve into the bathwater, sinking like stones to the bottom. No thoughts of impending doom, no fear lurking at the edges of your mind. Just you, the gentle bubbles, and the soft, soothing scent of cherry shampoo drifting in the steam.
And no Sylus.
Your face twists into a scowl at the very thought of him. No. This was supposed to be your time, a moment for yourself. You can’t let him invade this too. Don’t think about him, you urge yourself. Focus on the bath. Focus on the warmth. Desperate to banish any trace of him from your mind, you sink lower into the water, leaving only your nose and eyes above the surface, your breath shallow as you try to disappear beneath the heat.
But it doesn’t work. His presence lingers in your thoughts like a shadow you can't shake—the memory of his touch, his voice, the sickly sweet promises he’d whisper after those twisted "sessions."
Before you can stop yourself, you plunge fully beneath the water, submerging yourself entirely, as if you could drown his memory along with your thoughts—perhaps even drown yourself if that’s what it takes to make it all stop.
The deafening roar of water fills your ears, muffling the world around you. Instinct keeps your breath held tight, but a dark thought persisted—what would happen if you really… let go? Sylus has made it clear he has no intention of releasing you. Maybe this, right here, is your only way out.
A tightness coils in your chest as your body begins its primal fight for air. The burning need to breathe claws at your lungs, but there’s no panic—just a calm, almost eerie resolve. Slowly, deliberately, you part your lips, ready to let the water rush in. This is it. Your escape. The only freedom Sylus can't take from you.
Death.
You wonder what kind of face he would make when he would discover your barely warm body bobbing in the bath water, having escaped the clutches of his captivity in a way he could not undo.
You wished you'd be around to see it.
Just as the warm sensation of water touches the back of your throat, a sharp tingling prickles across your scalp. A second later, you're violently yanked from the water, gasping for air as the bathroom floods back into focus. You blink wildly, clearing the stinging bathwater from your eyes, only to be met by a familiar face.
"Why willingly subject yourself to waterboarding?" Sylus asks, his tone laced with disappointment, as if you’ve failed some unspoken test. You glare at him angrily, grabbing at the grip he has on your hair.
"Don't tell me I'll have to supervise your baths too?"
"Let go!" you shout, clawing at his fingers, desperately trying to free your hair from his grip. To your surprise, he does, and you quickly retreat to the far edge of the tub, pressing your back against the cool porcelain. Water clings to your skin, dripping down your face as you try to steady your breath. His eyes roam over you, calculating, as if taking in every detail. Suddenly self conscious of your naked figure, you hug your arms around your breasts. You notice, for the first time, the shopping bags dangling from his other hand. He sets them down with unnerving care before casually crossing the bathroom to grab a stool.
You watch warily as he pulls it up beside the tub, seating himself directly across from you, his eyes never leaving your face.
"I wasn’t trying to kill myself," you snap, your voice sharp as you avoid his gaze. "I’d rather not give you more reasons to watch me."
Sylus chuckles softly, clearly unfazed by your defiance, as if your words barely register. Without another glance at you, he begins rummaging through the bags at his feet, his movements methodical and unhurried. After a moment, he pulls out a small white box, and you narrow your eyes, watching as he carefully peels away the packaging. Something small and silver tumbles into his palm, catching the light.
"Nail clippers?" you ask, disbelief creeping into your voice.
He nods, then casually tugs down the collar of his shirt, revealing the jagged red scratches you had raked across his skin during the last time he had forced himself on you. The sight of them makes you smirk—small, uneven lines, but they’re there, vivid reminders that you hadn’t gone down without a fight. You can almost feel your nails digging into him again, that brief moment of satisfaction before he'd pinned you, your resistance crushed beneath his weight.
"The first step in taming an angry kitten," he muses with a grin, "is taking her claws." His voice is disturbingly light, almost playful, as he reaches out toward you.
You hesitate, staring at his outstretched hand. Your instincts scream at you to pull away, but what choice do you have? Reluctantly, you slip your hand into his, your fingers trembling ever so slightly as he curls his hand around yours. His grip is firm but not harsh, his skin warm against your own, the casual dominance in his touch making your stomach churn. He watches you closely, his gaze never wavering, as if daring you to resist.
"Isn't that called declawing?" you mutter bitterly, trying to keep your voice steady as you avert your eyes. You watch instead as he presses the clippers to your nails, the metal cool against your fingertips. The soft snip of each nail being cut echoes in the quiet bathroom, a steady, unnerving rhythm.
Sylus smirks, tilting his head as he replies, "Oh?" His tone is amused, almost mocking. "Would you rather I pull them out instead?" His voice remains calm, and you're unsure if he's joking or not.
You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. Each clip of the clippers feels more invasive than the last, stripping away not just your nails, but a part of yourself—your small weapon of defiance.
It struck you as odd. Just yesterday, the two of you had been locked in a bitter struggle on his bed—panting, groaning, bodies slick with sweat, fighting for entirely different goals. For him, dominance. For you, escape. And now here he was, calmly and methodically clipping your nails, the act almost tender, as if you were lovers sharing an intimate moment.
Neither of you speaks until he finishes. Sylus turns your hands over slowly, inspecting his work with the same detached precision, ensuring he’s clipped them short enough. Finally satisfied, he releases your hand, letting the clippers fall from his grasp with a metallic clatter against the bathroom floor. You frown down at the newly cut length of your nails, feeling stripped of yet another small defense.
Before you can dwell on the thought, he leans over the bath, his face inching dangerously close to yours. There's hardly any space to retreat, and you’re forced to face him, your breath catching in your throat as his presence looms over you. His lips find the soft skin of your neck, leaving light, deliberate kisses that send a shiver of tension through your body.
Sensing your stiffness, he chuckles under his breath, the sound low and familiar, before cupping your face in his hand. His fingers are firm, cradling your jaw with unnerving gentleness.
"Relax..." he whispers, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, almost teasing kiss. "I won’t do anything now. Didn’t I promise you a break?"
His words echo in your mind, bringing with them the memory of his promise from this morning. Instead of threatening you for obedience, he’d dangled a twisted form of kindness—a reward, rather than punishment. A carrot, not a stick.
Promising that if you didn't put up a fight this morning, that would be the only time he would be inside you that day.
You would have been an idiot to refuse such an offer. Almost daily assaults had left you feeling sore and exhausted. Sure, you knew he was offering you crumbs of kindness as a way to train you into obedience but you were much stronger than that. He wouldn't break you so easily.
You simply hummed and nodded in agreement, giving him a small kiss back. You had come to learn that the quicker you returned his affection, the sooner he would relent. It worked, as he almost immediately smiled and leaned back on the stool. He suddenly reaches is arm up and looks at the watch on his wrist.
"Come on out. I bought a few things for you, sweetie," Sylus says softly, his eyes drifting back to your still-exposed body. You tense instinctively, sinking lower into the water as if it could shield you from his gaze. His words may be gentle, but the weight of his attention feels oppressive, suffocating.
Sensing your discomfort, he lets out a quiet laugh. "I’ll turn around. Just don’t try drowning yourself again," he chuckles, as though reading your mind. True to his word, he turns his back to you, but the tension in the room remains thick, your heart pounding in your chest. You wish, more than anything, that he would just leave, give you a moment of peace, but you know better than to ask.
With a deep breath, you grip the edge of the tub, steadying yourself as you rise from the water. The cool air hits your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of the bath, and your wet feet make a quiet slap against the cold tile as you step out. Quickly, you reach for the white towel resting on the sink and begin to dry yourself, moving with an urgency spurred by your skepticism that Sylus will stay turned away for long.
As you dry yourself, you notice something unexpected—when you reach between your legs, your hand freezes. A slight gasp escapes your lips as you spot it: crimson streaks, trailing down your inner thigh. For a moment, you stare in disbelief, watching the droplets of blood slowly slide down your leg. Then, reality hits, and you frantically press the towel to your skin, catching the blood before it can reach the floor.
"What's wrong?" Sylus asks, his voice suddenly alert as he turns his head, catching your gasp. His eyes lock onto the bloodstained towel, his posture shifting as he steps toward you, concern etched across his face. "Are you hurt?"
You swallow hard, a strange mixture of emotions flooding through you. "My period..." you say softly, almost under your breath, but then, a smile creeps onto your face, one you can't suppress.
Relief crashes over you like a tidal wave. You’ve never been so happy to see blood in your life.
You aren’t pregnant. You aren’t pregnant.
Your mind races, the implications still sinking in. It’s not over, but for now, you’re safe. Your hands shake as you pull your gaze from the red stain, your breath coming in short, shaky bursts. Then, a creeping awareness settles in—you aren’t alone.
Sylus is standing behind you. You feel his presence before you see him, the weight of his silence pressing against you. You quickly wipe the smile from your face, the relief vanishing as you turn slowly to face him.
"My period... it’s just my period," you whisper, your voice trembling, barely able to hold steady. You try to read his face, desperate for any sign of how he’s reacting. His expression shifts—concern morphs into a frown, and then... nothing. His face goes blank, like a mask slipping into place. You search frantically for any flicker of emotion—anger, frustration, relief—but it’s as though he’s walled himself off, unreachable.
Was he angry? Disappointed? You couldn’t tell, and that terrified you. Your stomach twists in knots, anxiety bubbling up again. The relief you felt moments ago is quickly replaced by a new dread. One disaster averted, but what now?
"Right," he says calmly, his voice devoid of any warmth, as though this is just another mundane detail in his well-controlled world. He reaches for the bloodied towel in your hands, his movements smooth and deliberate, like nothing about this situation surprises him. "Don’t worry about this. Just finish dressing."
He leans down, pulling open the cabinet under the sink. Your heart skips a beat as he sets several packages of pads and tampons on the counter, each one the exact brand and size you regularly use. A cold chill runs down your spine. How long had he been watching you before bringing you here? How much does he already know? The intimate knowledge of your life, right down to your feminine products, feels like another layer of control—a calculated invasion disguised as care.
"If you don’t want to use these, I’ll have Luke and Kieran get different ones," he says, his tone disturbingly casual, as though this conversation is perfectly normal.
Your throat tightens. "No, these are fine... thank you."
He gives a slight nod, but it’s mechanical, his face still unreadable, and he turns to leave, collecting the rest of your discarded clothes from the bathroom floor. His steps are quick but unhurried, a man always in control of his actions, of everything around him. He leaves you standing there, shaken, and once again, you feel small under his gaze. Whatever he’s feeling, he’s locked it away. You’ll never know unless he decides to let you.
The door closes behind him, and you’re left alone with your thoughts—and the creeping realization that you may never be truly alone again.
After gathering enough courage to leave the bathroom, you cautiously crack open the bedroom door. You peer out, spotting Sylus lounging on the leather sofa, his eyes glued to his phone. His posture is relaxed, casual, as if nothing unusual has happened. But the moment you step into the room, he looks up—his gaze sharp, as though he’s been waiting for you.
"Took you long enough," he says, a smirk playing at his lips, amusement evident in his voice. The cold, distant air he had in the bathroom has vanished, replaced with the easy confidence you’ve come to expect. He’s back to being the Sylus you recognize, the one who shifts between charm and control like flipping a switch.
You force a smile, trying to match his casual tone. "Yeah, well, drowning myself was starting to seem tempting again," you quip, keeping your voice light. You move past him toward the bed, wanting nothing more than to put some distance between the two of you. But before you can get far, his hand shoots out, wrapping around your wrist with a gentle but firm grip. The sudden contact sends a jolt through you, freezing you in place.
His touch isn’t rough, but there’s something in it that holds you captive, a subtle reminder of the power he holds. You glance down at his hand, then back up at him, unsure whether to pull away or let him guide the moment.
"Are you hungry?" he asks, his voice soft now, almost concerned. But the question hangs in the air, heavier than it should be.
"Oh! Uh... yeah?" you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. As much as you wanted to ignore him and crawl into bed, the thought of food was too tempting to resist. Sylus stands, his grip on your wrist still firm, tugging you toward the bedroom door.
Your heart skips a beat as you watch him press his finger against the scanner beside the door. Why is he letting you this close? The lock hums and with a soft click, the door swings open. You stare at it, a thousand questions racing through your mind.
He turns back to you, his playful demeanor from moments ago evaporating in an instant, replaced by something darker, colder. His eyes lock onto yours, and suddenly, the atmosphere feels suffocating.
"Behave," he says, his voice low and serious. "Don’t wander off without me, and if you try anything... you won’t leave this room or the bed for weeks. Understood?"
The threat in his words chills you to your core. You're frozen in place, trying to process what’s happening. Is this real? Are you dreaming? Why now? The door stands open before you, a symbol of freedom, but it feels more like a trap, a carefully laid test. The air between you crackles with tension. One wrong move, and you know there will be consequences.
You shake your head quickly, pushing aside any fleeting thoughts of rebellion. Not now. Not yet.
Trying to break the moment, you turn your gaze toward the unopened bags still sitting in the corner of the room. "Didn’t you say you bought me some stuff?" you ask, your voice tentative, eyes flicking toward the bags. "I’m curious about what’s in them."
Anything to steer the conversation away from the potential threat.
"It’s okay, you can look at them later" Sylus says, his voice smooth and reassuring as he swings the door open wider. The invitation seems casual, but there’s something unsettling about how easily he offers it. His hand loosens slightly around your wrist, though he doesn’t let go completely, as if to remind you that the freedom he's offering has limits.
Your eyes flick from the open door to his face, searching for any hint of what’s really going on. His expression is calm, almost too calm, as if he’s in complete control of the situation, confident that you won’t dare make a move without his permission. The open door, the promise of something beyond this room, suddenly feels less like an escape and more like a stage he's set for you.
Every instinct in your body screams that this isn’t as simple as it looks. It’s a test, another subtle power play to remind you where you stand. The reassurance in his voice only deepens the pit in your stomach. He’s letting you out, but on his terms.
You force a nod, trying to swallow the growing unease. "Okay," you murmur, though the word feels foreign in your mouth, like you’re agreeing to something you don’t fully understand.
Sylus smiles—a small, practiced curve of his lips, but his eyes remain unreadable. He steps aside, making room for you to pass, yet the tension in the air doesn’t dissipate. It lingers, wrapping itself around you like a noose tightening with every step you take toward the door.
As you step cautiously past the threshold, the hallway beyond the door reveals a world of striking opulence. The air feels cooler, heavier, carrying the scent of leather and polished stone. Beneath your bare feet, the floor is a dark, sleek tile, almost black, with a high gloss that catches the low light and reflects distorted, shadowy images of the surroundings. Each step echoes slightly, the subtle tap of your feet magnified by the smooth surface, giving the space a cavernous, eerie quality.
The walls are a deep, charcoal black, lined with intricately carved molding that runs up to the high, coffered ceilings. Elegant sconces along the walls cast pools of soft, amber light, their glow bouncing off the glossy tiles, adding an extra layer of depth to the room. The lighting is deliberately dim, creating an atmosphere of perpetual twilight, where shadows stretch and warp across the dark floor, leaving certain corners cloaked in deeper darkness.
To your left, a grand staircase spirals down, its wrought iron railings twisting in elaborate, almost gothic designs. The banister is polished ebony, gleaming faintly in the soft light, while the steps are lined with a deep, crimson runner that stands in stark contrast to the black tiles, offering a rare touch of softness amid the cold, hard surfaces. The staircase seems to descend endlessly, vanishing into shadows that hint at more hidden secrets below.
Expensive art lines the walls—large, dark oil paintings that seem impossibly old, their subjects watching with melancholy or judgment. The frames are thick, gilded with gold, though their luster is muted with age. Between the paintings, mirrors with heavy, ornate frames reflect fragments of the space, but never enough to give you a full view—only glimpses, distorted by the interplay of light and shadow.
Despite the mansions undeniable beauty, there’s a coldness that seeps through the dark tile, a chill that seems to rise from the floor itself. Every detail, from the smooth tile to the velvet drapes, feels curated and perfect, yet it lacks any warmth or comfort. The space feels like a cage disguised in luxury—beautiful, yes, but suffocating in its grandiosity.
"Kitchen is downstairs" Sylus says, nodding in their direction. You quietly make a mental note of everything as you descend. This is your chance to map out the house, make a potential escape route. Even if Sylus was close behind, you shouldn't waste this opportunity gawking at everything. So he's filthy rich, so what?
Your eyes flit from the deep shadows that pool in the corners of the hall to the heavy drapery that conceals what’s outside. Every window, every door, every hallway could be a potential escape route if you ever get the chance. You tell yourself to remember where they are, how the house is laid out. A plan begins to form in the back of your mind, hazy but determined. One way or another, you’ll need to know this place inside and out.
Each step down the staircase feels like a test, a countdown of sorts. The further you go, the deeper you descend into Sylus’s world. The weight of his gaze makes it hard to breathe, but you know you can’t falter now. You keep your pace steady, your face expressionless, pretending that this is just a simple walk down the stairs, but inside, your thoughts race. Every second counts, and you’re not going to let this moment slip away unnoticed.
The rich, savory smell of roasted chicken invades your senses as you reach the last step, filling the air with an unexpected warmth. The faint crackle of fire and the clattering of pans echo from the nearby kitchen, the sounds weaving into the dark, quiet luxury of the house. It’s a stark contrast to the cold, empty grandeur surrounding you—this small slice of normalcy, of life. But the moment feels fragile, like it could break at any second.
Your foot barely touches the last step when Sylus’s hands clamp down on your shoulders. The sudden contact sends a jolt of fear through your body, your heart lurching as you instinctively jump.
"You’re jumpy," he says softly, his voice smooth but carrying a hint of amusement, as though your fear is entertaining to him. The warmth of the kitchen clashes with the cold tension between you, and the contrast makes the moment feel surreal.
Sylus guides you away from the comforting noises of the kitchen, leading you into a room that exudes the same dark, expensive elegance as the rest of the house. The atmosphere shifts as you step into the space—less intimate, more like a showpiece designed to impress rather than to live in. It’s reminiscent of a living room, though everything feels just a little too perfect, too polished.
Your eyes widen as a massive flatscreen TV comes into view, its size nearly absurd against the backdrop of rich, dark wood paneling and plush furniture. "Huh? I didn’t know they made TVs this big..." you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them. The screen is so large, it feels more like a home theater than a living room—something you’d only expect to see in movies or magazines. While the Hunter's Association paid you well, this level of luxury was foreign to you, something you'd never even considered owning.
Sylus follows your gaze to the screen, his expression unreadable. "Is something wrong with it? Too big? I can have it downsized," he offers casually, though his eyes search yours intently, as if he’s genuinely concerned about your comfort. His suggestion catches you off guard, and you cock your head in confusion. Why would he even suggest such a thing?
"No! It’s fine," you say quickly, shaking your head, still baffled by his willingness to adjust even something so extravagant for you. "I’ve just never seen one this huge."
Sylus nods, seemingly satisfied with your response, and motions toward the sofa. "Sit," he says, his tone soft but commanding. The sofa is deep, covered in smooth leather, and it practically swallows you when you lower yourself onto it.
He wastes no time sitting next to you, checking his watch again. You fiddle nervously beside him, feeling out of place in such a space. First he lets you out of his room for the very first time in weeks, and now the both of you are sitting on the couch casually as if this was routine.
You desperately wished you could tell what he was thinking.
"Chef should be done in a few minutes" Sylus said, interrupting your anxious thoughts. He tenderly intertwines his fingers with yours, lifting your hand up to press a soft kiss against your knuckles. His gaze is unwavering as he looks at you.
Your gaze shifts, briefly breaking away from his piercing eyes, and lands on a shelf in the corner of the room behind him. Something there catches your attention—an old, meticulously cared-for record player. Its polished surface gleams in the low light, a relic of a different time. It’s beautiful in its simplicity, standing out against the modern opulence surrounding it. You wonder briefly about its significance. Why something so old in a house filled with the latest luxuries?
But the question fades as Sylus’s thumb gently strokes your hand, pulling your focus back to him. He's being tender right now, and feeling bold, you start talking.
"I didn't think the leader of Onychinus would live in such a grand place" you say calmly, eyeing his reaction. Instead of anger of irritation, he simply smiles as if he already realized you had figured out his identity.
"Oh? What were you thinking then?"
"Well...I figured you would be in hiding" you say plainly, gritting your teeth a bit. "This place is pretty easy to spot. Lots of hiding places too."
Sylus chuckles as if you just told him something funny. "Sweetie nothing gets in or out of this place without me knowing, that's hardly a worry"
You mentally curse yourself. Of course he has cameras. Why wouldn’t he? A man like Sylus would never leave anything to chance, especially not in a place like this. Escaping wouldn’t be as simple as memorizing the layout of the house. You’d have to make it past the cameras, the eyes constantly watching, recording every move. The realization makes your stomach sink. Even your thoughts of escape feel smaller, less attainable now.
The air grows thick with the scent of steam and roasted chicken as a figure appears around the corner. The chef, an older man with deep-set lines in his face, moves with quiet precision. He says nothing as he places an exquisite spread of chicken and side dishes on the table in front of you. Everything looks impossibly perfect—the golden-brown skin of the chicken, the vibrant vegetables, the delicately arranged plates. It’s the kind of meal you might see in a restaurant you could never afford, yet it feels out of place here, too refined and elegant for the suffocating tension in the room.
The chef doesn’t speak, not a word, but he gives a small nod in Sylus’s direction before quietly retreating from the room. His presence, brief and silent, only adds to the strange, controlled atmosphere. You find yourself wondering if he knows—if he’s aware of the twisted dynamic at play here—or if he’s just another piece of the puzzle that makes up Sylus’s meticulously crafted world.
For a moment, you think about the cameras again. They’re watching, just like Sylus. Always watching. You force yourself to focus on the meal, trying not to give away the panic bubbling beneath your calm exterior. You smile faintly, but your mind races with the next hurdle: it’s not just about getting out of the house, it’s about getting out unseen.
Sylus glances at you, his hand still resting on yours. "Eat," he says softly, his voice smooth but with an edge of command beneath it. The invitation sounds pleasant, but you know better. This isn’t a request.
You nod, swallowing hard, a knot of anxiety tightening in your throat. You start with the green beans, methodically chewing, your mind already strategizing. Green beans—protein and energy for running. Every bite, every move from here on out has to be deliberate, with purpose. Escaping this place was never going to be easy, but now it feels even more impossible. Still, you cling to the idea that preparation is key. You’ll need your strength for when the time comes.
As you chew, you glance at Sylus and notice something unsettling. He hasn’t touched his plate. His gaze is fixed on you, watching, as if he’s waiting for something. The unease that had been simmering beneath the surface now starts to bubble up. You meet his eyes, silently questioning why he’s not eating. He smiles tenderly.
"I’ll be tracking your ovulation window from now on," he says casually, as though he were discussing the weather. "Since you’ve gotten your first period since staying here, now would be a good time to start."
The words hit you like ice water, chilling you to the core. You freeze, your fork halting mid-air as the meaning of what he said sinks in. The casualness of his tone, the way he drops such a personal, invasive statement into the conversation as if it’s nothing, leaves you reeling. He’s watching you, gauging your reaction, his smile lingering in the same unsettling way.
The room, with all its lavish furnishings and exquisite food, suddenly feels more like a cage than ever. It’s not just about being physically trapped anymore—it’s the knowledge that even your body is under his control. He’s tracking you, monitoring the most intimate parts of your life. Any illusion of autonomy shatters, leaving only the cold reality of how deeply he intends to dominate every aspect of your existence.
You force yourself to swallow the bite in your mouth, your heart pounding in your chest. Stay calm, you tell yourself. Don’t react. Not yet.
"That won't guarantee a baby" you retort, trying your best to hide a scowl. You know you’re pushing him, testing the boundaries, but the words slip out before you can stop them. The shift in his expression is immediate. The amusement that once danced in his eyes evaporates, replaced by something darker, more calculated.
His face contorts into a deep frown, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he processes your defiance. For a moment, he says nothing, and the air between you feels charged, thick with unspoken tension.
"Maybe not the first time," he starts slowly, his voice dropping a notch, finally picking up his own fork. His tone is calm, but there’s a cold edge to it, like he’s already several steps ahead in whatever twisted game he’s playing. "Or the second time."
He takes a deliberate bite, chewing slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, as if daring you to interrupt. After what feels like an eternity, he swallows and leans back against the sofa, his gaze sharp and unrelenting.
"But it will eventually."
The words hang in the air, a dark promise. His voice is measured, controlled, but beneath the surface, you can feel the underlying threat. Sylus isn’t just talking about biology; he’s making it clear that he will keep trying, over and over again, until he gets what he wants. The casual way he says it, as if it’s inevitable, sends a shiver down your spine.
The words settle in your mind, their dark implications unfurling like a slow, creeping poison. You can’t take it anymore—the calm, the control, the endless power games. Something inside you snaps. The fear, the careful restraint you’ve held onto for weeks, crumbles all at once. Before you can stop yourself, you slam your fist down onto the table, the sharp clatter of silverware echoing through the room.
"Do you even hear yourself?" you shout, your voice shaking with rage. "You think this is some sick game? You can’t just… you can’t control my body like that! You can't just—" Your voice breaks, the dam of emotions bursting wide open. "You think you can force this? That you can just keep me here, like I’m some… some breeding stock? Like I don’t have a say in my own life?"
Your breath comes in short, ragged bursts, your heart pounding in your ears. The words are spilling out now, unstoppable. "You think tracking my ovulation, making your plans—doing whatever sick family fantasy thing you have in mind—is going to work? You have no right! No right to decide what happens to me, no right to decide my future for your delusions!"
Sylus's fork clatters back onto his plate, his face blank at first, but the tension in the air is palpable. He doesn’t interrupt, just watches as you lose control, like he’s waiting for something—maybe for you to exhaust yourself, maybe for you to break down entirely. But you don’t care anymore.
"You’re insane!" you spit, your voice cracking as the emotions surge, unstoppable now. "This whole place—this whole twisted world of yours—it’s a prison. Do you even get that? It doesn’t matter how much money you throw at it, how many things you control, it’ll never make you anything but a monster!"
The words hang in the air, trembling with the rawness of your outburst. Your chest heaves, your hands shaking uncontrollably. You’re on the verge of tears, but you refuse to let them fall. Not in front of him. Not now.
"I'll kill myself before any child of yours ever calls me mom" you say, your words ringing through the still and quiet mansion.
Sylus’s expression shifts, the mask of calm slipping ever so slightly. His eyes narrow, and his lips press into a thin, tight line. For a moment, the room feels like it’s holding its breath. Then, as if something in him cracks open, he smiles. A slow, unnerving grin spreads across his face, the darkness in his eyes momentarily replaced by something even more disturbing—amusement.
You stare at him, dumbfounded, trying to process the sudden shift in his demeanor. The anger you had expected never comes. Instead, a low chuckle rumbles from his chest, growing louder, filling the room with an eerie echo that makes your skin crawl.
"Are you done with your little tantrum, kitten?" he coos, his voice dripping with condescension. The way he says "kitten" sends a shiver down your spine, the pet name laced with eerie sweetness. Without warning, he reaches out, gripping your wrist with an unsettling gentleness, pulling you toward him with ease.
Before you can react, he yanks you down onto his lap, forcing you to straddle him. Your body stiffens, the weight of him beneath you both unsettling and humiliating. You feel trapped, like prey ensnared in a hunter’s grasp. His arm wraps around your waist, locking you in place. You try to pull away, but his hold is unyielding.
"Poor thing," he murmurs, his voice soft but taunting as his fingers trail lazily up your back, "you’re just a little ball of anger, aren’t you?" His smile widens as his hand slides into your hair, gently tugging it, controlling even the smallest movements. You feel the tension in your body spike, but any resistance you try to muster is immediately swallowed by the cold reality of his control.
"You know," he continues, his tone light, almost playful, as if you weren’t just screaming at him moments ago, "I could let you keep fighting me. Let you wear yourself out like a kitten clawing at something it can’t catch." He chuckles again, his fingers tightening in your hair, forcing your head to tilt just enough so that you have no choice but to meet his gaze. His eyes, dark and unreadable, lock onto yours with a frightening intensity.
"But we both know how this ends, don’t we?" he whispers, his voice dropping into something dangerously low. His smile never fades, but the amusement in his eyes sharpens into something cruel. "You’ll tire yourself out. You always do."
A whimper escapes your lips as his grip tightens in your hair, the pressure mounting to the point where it’s impossible to hold back any longer. The tears you’ve fought so desperately to contain now spill freely, streaking down your cheeks. Your body trembles as the emotional dam breaks, the fear, frustration, and helplessness flooding out all at once.
Sylus notices. His expression shifts, softening in a way that feels strange. The cruel amusement that once gleamed in his eyes fades, replaced by something disturbingly gentle. He loosens his grip on your hair, letting his fingers glide down to your cheek. His thumb brushes away the hot tears, wiping them tenderly.
"Don’t cry pretty girl," he murmurs, his voice a quiet coo. The gentleness in his tone feels like a strange juxtaposition to the fear still gripping your chest. His other hand slides down to cradle your face, keeping you close, but no longer with the same force. "It’s okay. I promised I’d take care of you, didn’t I?"
He presses soft kisses on your lips as they tremble and you just let him, the weight of the situation crashing on you. "Just take my cum and have my baby, I'll take care of everything else. Doesn't that sound easy?"
You jerk your head away from him at the mere thought of him impregnating you.
He turns your head back towards him, his lips pressing a soft kiss against your tear-streaked cheek, the touch almost reverent. The sensation makes your skin crawl, the tenderness a cruel mockery of the power he so clearly holds over you. You want to pull away, but his hands keep you there, gently holding you in place as if to soothe the very tears he caused.
His lips move to your hand, kissing your tear-stained fist, as though he’s trying to console you after making you break down. The gesture feels wrong, every soft touch an extension of his control masquerading as care. He’s not only comforting you out of kindness and love but he’s reminding you that even your pain belongs to him, that he can take you to the brink of despair and then pull you back whenever he pleases.
"You can scream, you can break my things, you can throw tantrums, but in the end..." His voice lowers, chillingly calm. "You’re still mine. You still belong to me. Your anger? It’s nothing. It won’t change anything."
The room feels smaller now, his words wrapping around you like a vice, tightening with every breath. You can’t breathe, can’t think, the weight of the situation crashing down on you all over again.
"And as for your outburst..." he says, his lips curling into a faint smile. "It will have consequences."
Your body trembles as his thumb brushes away another tear, his touch tender, almost soothing. And despite the revulsion that twists in your stomach, despite every fiber of your being screaming at you to push him away, you don’t.
You can’t.
You’re just so exhausted.
Without even realizing it, you lean into him, your body betraying your mind. The weight of your exhaustion is unbearable, and the fight you’ve held onto for so long begins to slip through your fingers like sand. Your head rests against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing providing a sick sort of comfort that you hate yourself for needing.
He holds you gently, his arm wrapping around your waist, securing you against him as though he’s protecting you. The irony is suffocating. This man, who has twisted your world into a living nightmare, is now the one offering you comfort. And as much as you despise him for it, for the control he wields over you, you sink deeper into his embrace, desperate for the warmth and the momentary relief from your own anguish.
"There you go," he murmurs softly, his fingers stroking your hair in long, calming motions. "See? It’s not so bad, is it?"
The words cut, each one a reminder of the power he holds over you, but you’re too drained to care anymore. The anger, the defiance, the hatred—it’s all still there, burning under the surface, but right now, the only thing you can feel is the weight of your own exhaustion pulling you down, dragging you into a state of reluctant surrender.
"I hate you," you whisper, your voice barely audible, muffled by his chest. The words come out broken, hollow, lacking the fire they once carried. But it’s all you can manage, the last flicker of resistance in a sea of overwhelming fatigue.
"I know," Sylus replies, his voice soft and almost indulgent, as though your hatred is just another part of the game to him. He holds you tighter, his hand continuing to caress your hair.
"But it doesn’t matter, sweetie. You’re mine now. Hate me all you want, I’ll still take care of you."
You hate him for saying it. You hate him for making you feel like you need him. But in this moment, you’re too tired to fight him. You allow yourself to collapse into the illusion of safety, just for a little while, even though you know it’s a trap.
You wake to the sensation of being moved, cradled like you’re something fragile. It’s disorienting at first, and for a brief, blissful moment, you don’t remember where you are. But then the cold reality slams into you.
Sylus.
Your eyes flicker open, and through the haze of sleep, you realize he’s carrying you. His arms are steady, but the feel of his hold sends a chill down your spine. You try to shake off the drowsiness, to push yourself upright, but your limbs feel weak and uncooperative.
"Shh," he whispers, his voice gentle, though it only makes the situation worse. "Go back to sleep. You’re safe."
Safe. The word rings hollow in your mind. You know better. Even though his touch is soft and careful, even though his voice is low and comforting, you know exactly where you are—exactly who holds you.
Your heart sinks as you hear the faint whirr of a door opening. He’s taking you back to the room, the one where you’ve spent so many weeks locked away, trapped. A lump forms in your throat as you realize what’s happening, but you’re too weak to fight it. You had a brief taste of freedom, even if it was a twisted version of it, but now he’s putting you back in your cage.
Sylus steps into his room, the dim light casting long shadows over the dark, lavish space. He moves with deliberate care, like he’s handling something precious, lowering you onto the bed with a gentleness that feels grotesque in its contrast to what he’s actually doing.
Your body sinks into the mattress, your limbs too heavy to lift. You manage a weak protest, a soft whimper of resistance, but he shushes you again, his hand brushing the side of your face with infuriating tenderness.
"Sleep, kitten. You need your rest."
He moves to the door, and you hear the unmistakable sound of the lock. The finality of it sends a fresh wave of despair through you. You’re back in the same room, the same prison, despite the moments of fragile comfort you had shared. It all meant nothing. You’re still his prisoner.
You turn your face into the pillow, tears pricking at your eyes once more, but you’re too drained to cry again. Your body aches, your mind is foggy, and sleep still tugs at you, relentless in its pull. You hate that you find any sense of comfort in the bed, in the quiet, but there’s no fight left in you tonight.
With the sound of the lock still echoing in your mind, you close your eyes and let yourself slip back into unconsciousness, knowing that tomorrow, nothing will have changed.
You wake suddenly, gasping for air, your skin slick with sweat. The sheets are tangled around your legs, suffocatingly warm. For a moment, you think it's just another nightmare—the kind that leaves you feeling claustrophobic and panicked—but the heat in the room is real, heavy, and stifling.
You sit up slowly, blinking in the darkness, your breath coming in shallow gasps. Something feels off. The usual low hum of electricity, the steady whir of the ceiling fan, the soft glow of electronics—they’re all gone. Silence presses down around you, and the air in the room feels thick and still, almost oppressive.
The power’s out.
It hits you slowly at first, like a distant thought struggling to surface. The heat, the silence... no fan, no lights. And then it clicks. The power’s out. The fingerprint scanner.
Your heart skips a beat, adrenaline spiking through your veins. No power means the security system that’s kept you locked in this room—trapped and helpless—is down. The scanner on the door, the one that’s monitored your every movement, is dead. It has to be.
This could be your only chance.
You stumble out of bed, your legs shaky, still groggy from sleep but jolted awake by the rush of adrenaline. Your hands tremble as you feel your way to the door in the dark, the oppressive heat clinging to your skin. The room is suffocating, the air too thick to breathe, but none of that matters now.
You press your thumb against the scanner, holding your breath. Nothing happens. The small screen remains black, unresponsive. It’s not working.
A flicker of hope flares in your chest. The lock isn’t powered. You press your palm against the door and push, feeling it give under your hand. Slowly, carefully, you ease the door open just a crack and peer out into the hallway.
The corridor is bathed in shadow, darker than when you last saw it. The ambient lights, the security monitors, everything is dead. The house is eerily still, the silence even more unnerving than before. You step into the hallway, your heart racing as you move forward, each step deliberate and cautious.
For a brief, terrifying moment, you expect to hear Sylus’s voice, or the sound of footsteps approaching from behind, but the house remains quiet. You know he has Luke and Kieran stationed somewhere, but for now, the way seems clear.
You make your way toward the grand staircase, remembering some parts of the house from earlier. The front door is just ahead, at the bottom of the stairs. The hallway stretches before you, dark and endless, but your pulse quickens with the possibility of freedom.
You take a breath and descend the stairs as quietly as possible, gripping the banister for balance. Each creak of the wood beneath your feet feels deafening in the stillness. Your eyes dart around the hallway, searching the shadows for any sign of movement.
Finally, you reach the bottom of the stairs. The front door looms ahead, and you move toward it, the air growing cooler as you get closer. Your hand reaches for the door handle, and just as your fingers brush the cool metal, you freeze.
Voices.
You hear them—low, muffled voices coming from outside the door. Sylus’s men.
"Shit, powers out. We gotta start the generators."
Your heart sinks. They're right outside. You cant go this way without immediately being manhandled.
You glance around frantically, your mind racing for another way out. The house is massive, full of rooms and corridors, but you have no idea where the other exits lead. Still, you can’t afford to stand here and think—you need to move.
Then you remember. The kitchen. Maybe there's a way out there?
It’s a long shot, but you don’t have any other options. You turn quickly, darting down the hallway, your footsteps light and deliberate on the smooth, black tile. The shadows seem to stretch and twist around you, and every small creak feels like it’s echoing through the silence. You try to keep calm, but the fear of being caught wraps tighter around your chest with every passing second.
You reach the kitchen, and the oppressive heat of the house seems to lessen as you step inside. The room is large and dark, no light to be seen through the windows. The scent of stale food lingers in the air, remnants of a meal long forgotten, but you barely notice it. Your eyes dart to the side door.
It’s small, barely noticeable in the corner of the room, half-concealed behind shelves and cabinets. The door leads out to the horse racing track—you remember Sylus mentioning it in conversation once.
You rush toward the door, your pulse thundering in your ears. You reach for the handle, your hand trembling as it wraps around the cool metal. For a brief moment, you fear it’ll be locked, that this last chance at freedom will slip through your fingers.
Thankfully, with a twist and a click it opens.
The space beyond the kitchen is nothing like you expected—no trees, no breeze, just the harsh, cold landscape of the N109 zone. The dark, black midnight sky looms over you like an oppressive blanket, thick and unwelcoming. No stars, no moonlight, just an endless void stretching above you. The air is still and stale, a reflection of the lifelessness surrounding you.
But you have no time to process any of it. You can’t stop now. You have to keep moving.
Your feet press into the cracked, uneven ground as you forge ahead, your breath shallow and quick. As you walk, the outline of several horse stables comes into view. The structures are dark, the animals inside unmoving, their silhouettes barely visible in the low light. Thankfully, the horses are all asleep. None stir as you pass by quietly, your body tense and ready to bolt at the slightest sound. The only thing you hear is the quiet crunch of your own footsteps on the rough surface beneath you.
Ahead, a tall fence looms in the distance, a final obstacle standing between you and the outer edges of the N109 zone. You approach it cautiously, your heart pounding in your chest as you study its height. It’s rusted and worn, but still sturdy enough to make the climb difficult. You don’t have time to think—you have to act.
Gripping the cold metal tightly, you heave yourself up, your muscles straining with each movement. Your hands slip slightly, the rough texture of the fence biting into your palms as you scramble to find footing. Panic flares briefly in your chest, but you grit your teeth and push through the fear. You can’t stop now.
Just as you manage to get a decent grip, you hear it—the unmistakable hum of power returning. Behind you, Sylus’s mansion springs to life. Lights flicker on in the distance, illuminating the cold, empty halls that only moments ago were shrouded in darkness. The power’s back. It won’t be long before they notice you’re gone. They’ll be coming for you.
It’s now or never.
With a final burst of strength, you haul yourself up the last few feet of the fence, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The metal digs into your skin, but you don’t care. You pull yourself over the top, balancing precariously for a moment before launching yourself over.
You crash onto the other side, landing face-first on the hard, unforgiving ground. Pain shoots through your body as your knees and elbows scrape against the jagged surface, but you don’t let it stop you. You’ve come too far to be caught now.
For a moment, you lie there, dazed and gasping for breath, the shock of the impact making your head spin. The cold ground beneath you feels like both a punishment and a reminder that you’re not free yet. Behind you, you can hear the faint sounds of activity from the mansion—the twins moving, footsteps echoing in the distance.
They know.
Ignoring the pain, you force yourself to your feet, your body protesting with every movement. The fence looms behind you like a dark sentinel, separating you from the life you’re fleeing. You don’t dare look back at the mansion, don’t give yourself the chance to second-guess your next move.
You start running.
The landscape ahead is bleak and dark, with nothing but cold, cracked streets in every direction. There’s no breeze, no noise apart from your labored breathing and the pounding of your feet against the ground. A few tall and bleak buildings reminiscent of a part of a city come into view. You start making your way there.
You’re outside. You’re running. And for the first time in what feels like forever, the possibility of freedom is real, even if it’s still far out of reach.
In the distance, perched on a dead landline, a mechanical crow preens its feathers. Its head jerks toward a running girl, its red eyes locking onto her figure. Without warning, it spreads its metal wings and takes off in her direction, gears whirring as it follows from above.
582 notes · View notes
mattybsgroupie · 27 days
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secret 2 | matt sturniolo
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contents: established relationship; cursing; fingering (f receiving); praising; p in v; double v penetration; creampie; dom!matt
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notes: well, ask and you shall receive! thank you for not hating on the pegging fic lmao here’s the part 2, now with dom matt using your dildo on you along with his cock… and that will be the last dom fic in a while I NEED A BREAK. thank you guys for all the love and support, 1,5K followers is insane lmao. not proofread as usual so i apologize beforehand for any mistakes, enjoy this one! love yall sm ♡
request by: @cherib3lla & anon
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“what are you doing with this?” i questioned, holding back a giggle. it was a hilarious sight, a barefoot matt with his messy hair wearing a plain white t-shirt, blue plaid underwear, holding my pink dildo on his left hand.
“did you clean it? after we used it?” he asked, waving the toy around and staring at me.
“no matt, i took it out of you and put it back in the box” i ironically responded. “of course i did”.
“good” matt nodded, dragging his feet and making his way to the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress, legs crossed, still analyzing the dildo. he stroked the silicone as if he was giving it a handjob, realizing his regular fist felt too loose on the toy. “do you like this better than my cock?”
“matthew” i adjusted myself, crawling next to matt before letting my digits caress his covered shoulder. “i told you before, this is just a toy. no, i don't like it better than your cock” i gave him a smooch on his cheek, feeling his growing beard tickle my skin. 
“it doesn't fill me up as good and it doesn't cum inside of me” i whispered into his ear before nibbling on his lobe, trailing my kisses down his neck. matt let go of the dildo and tilted his head, giving me more access to mark him. 
“you think you can take both? my dick and this fake plastic one?” he grinned naughtily, opening his eyes when he realized i had sat down and stopped with the love bites. “c'mon, you're used to my size aren't you baby?” he teased and i looked away, not wanting to give in.
matt placed his palm on my cheek, thumb resting on my chin, holding my jaw upwards. he untangled his legs, pressing both knees on the mattress and hovering over me before laying his body on top of mine, holding his weight with both elbows. 
“fine.” i said, knowing he was still interested in what the dildo could do. “but you gotta go slow, please?”
“anything for my sweet girl” matt moved closer, his lips brushing against mine before taking them in a passionate kiss. one of his hands moved to my thigh, groping the flesh as he licked my lower lip, silently asking to go forward. 
i opened my mouth and his tongue quickly slid in, rolling against my own. matt’s grip tightened, a muffled moan coming from my throat as his palm rested just above my pussy. i bucked my hips upwards, trying to grind myself against his hand. 
“already?” matt asked, kissing my jaw. “want me to touch you?”
“please” i sighed heavily, my fingers going to the back of his neck, playing with his brown locks and trying to get him closer. “need you so bad”
“you asked me to go slow, princess” he reminded me and i groaned. i needed some relief. “be patient, yeah? promise you’re gonna feel so fucking good” matt dragged his tongue across my neck, tugging the hem of my t-shit when he reached my collarbones. i nodded desperately, lifting my arms so he’d take it off for me.
matt tossed my shirt somewhere in his room, latching his lips around my hardened nipple, sucking it while his hands held my waist, the grip of his fingers leaving red marks on my bare skin. he placed his digits on my covered pussy, rubbing my clit over the cloth.
i could see a smirk forming on his face when i let out a moan, finally deciding to touch me properly. matt's hands entered my pants and lifted my hips, rapidly removing my shorts and leaving me entirely naked. my pussy was dripping, my leaking juices had formed a huge wet patch on my panties while he teased me.
matt's middle finger and index once again pressed against my clit, making my legs tremble from the sudden friction. he traveled through my wet folds, stroking every inch he could reach before positioning his digits at my entrance, not waiting to start slipping his finger in. with my mouth hanging open, matt fully entered me and started thrusting back and forth, taking advantage of my throbbing pussy to slip another one in.
"matt!" i whimpered, my nails digging into his back as he began to curve them inside me.
“gotta stretch that pretty pussy first, huh? how you’re gonna take my cock if you can’t handle my fingers, baby?” he said, fastening his pace. i started clenching, i knew if he hit my spot i wouldn’t last long.
matt placed a few more kisses on my chest, slowly pulling out of me. “wanna use your big girl toy?” i nodded eagerly, begging to be filled. matt, however, wasn’t in a rush, taking an incredible amount of time to grab the dildo and coat it with my juices.
“told you to be patient baby” he said as i whined, matt softly dragging the silicone tip across my clit. “you’re gonna have to take both anyways” he spoke to himself, boosting his own ego.
matt positioned the dildo on my entrance, not making any effort to get in. i had to lower my hips, my hole finally touching the pink shaft. “sliding in so easily, huh?” he said, pushing it inside of me. i let my legs hang loose around his waist, as if it was his actual cock fucking me.
matt kept slow, steady movements for a while, until he decided he could no longer hide his aching boner. i could see his hardened dick from miles away, his lenght poking my thighs as he adjusted himself in between my legs.
“look how worked up you got me” matt spoke, pulling his pants down and showing me his cock before wrapping his knuckles around his shaft, spreading the pre-cum downwards. he was trying so hard to make it work, he wanted to fuck me with both at the same time. as soon as his leaking tip touched my entrance, he hissed “shit- so fucking tight”.
matt realized he would have to do a bit more effort for his plan to work. he pulled the dildo out of me, once again making me complain. at this point, i was basically getting edged, not receiving any relief to my throbbing pussy. matt placed his hands on my hips, slowly burying himself inside of me. his dick was so much bigger than my dildo, making me throw my head back as his length stretched my walls.
“you’re so big! fuck!” i moaned, grabbing the sheets since i could no longer reach his back. i needed him closer, needed him all the way inside.
he began to move his hips, pouding inside of me until he reached my sweet spot. “matt, please” i moaned in surprise “please, let me cum! just once!” i begged, the knot in my lower belly getting harder to hold.
“you're gonna be good” he started, “and you're gonna wait until i say you can cum”. matt's thrusts became sloppier, slower, dragging his dick just enough so he could feel good.
“how the fuck should i do that?” matt spoked to himself once again, grabbing the pink dildo and bringing it closer to his own cock. he was gonna push both inside of me, at the same time.
“relax for me princess, c’mon” matt whispered, pulling out the right amount to align both tips on my entrance. “you’re doing so well for me hm? just a little more yeah?”
“please” his praises always worked, my walls gradually unclenching. “slow, please, fuck!”
“theeere you go” he said, finally being able to fit his dick and the silicone toy inside of me. “it’s in baby, all in” matt admired his work, pressing my tummy to feel his own length. i rolled my eyes, no longer being able to speak.
“yeah? can feel it right here huh? good girl, so good to me. taking two cocks at once, fuck” he groaned before hovering his body over mine, bucking his hips forward as his lips came back to mine in a failed attempt to cover my moans.
“matt, i’m gonna- i’m close” i managed to speak, his blue eyes locked with mine, reassuring me i could take it. he was no longer containing himself, the silicone getting dragged on his veins along with the wetness of my pussy helping him to reach his high quicker.
“whenever you want” he nodded and i wrapped my hands around his shoulder. “no need to ask, cum all over me princess”
one of matt's hands came back to my boobs, groping my titties and rubbing my nipple with his thumb as gave a few last thrusts, twitching dick inside of me begging for release. my orgasm suddenly hit me, making me arch my back and curl my toes, my chest panting heavily as matt came in thick spurts into my throbbing pussy. as he savored the last moments of his orgasm, his cum started to leak from me, both of us groaning — him with the delightful sight, me with with the overwhelming sensation.
matt pulled out and collapsed next to me, resting his head on the mattress and opening his arms so i'd snuggle on his chest.
when matt came back to his senses, he realized he was still holding the dildo on his hand, the stickiness from our releases messing his hand. “well, that’s kinda icky” he showed it to me and i rolled my eyes, pretending i didn't find that insanely hot. “but i’m starting to enjoy this pink thing”.
“yeah? want me to use it on you again?” i chuckled, biting his neck and getting closer to him, resting my hands on his waist.
“it's a secret, i told you before” he spoke, caressing my head as he tried to fix my hair. “i might think about it if you let me do that to you again.”
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taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @mommykinks4matt @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @her-favorite @bugeyedgrl @mattslittlecumsslut @sturncakez @riowritesitall @joemamaaa42069 @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @mattscoquette @sturniolofandomthings @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn @lizzymacdonald06 @sofieeeeex @blahbel668 @fratbrochrisgf @bagsbyclair0 @sturnobsessedwh0re @cayleeuhithinknot @sturniolo04 @1c3b4th @mattsfavbigtitties @bellassturniolo @sturnsxplr-25
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691 notes · View notes
lubrumalis · 3 months
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ghost character analysis
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tw: spoilers from ghost mw2 comics, nsfw, dead dove do not eat, mature content.
this is pretty much a part 2 to ghost headcanons except with more lore and analysis (im still not sure if reboot ghost has the same backstory as the og ghost).
ghost is not a cold, calculated, ruthless man. maybe in a separate au or something, but theres a huge difference between ghost and simon riley. in fact, we need to understand that the reason he even chose ghost as a new name for himself is because of all that's happened to him. his family got killed, he got tortured by roba, and had to eliminate many men on his own. before that he was simon, not ghost. in the comic he literally calls the child hostages he was saving ‘sweetheart’ and ‘love’. hes not that mean and cold yall
we know that PTSD does shit to it's victims, ghost lost his entire family and had no one. think of it as a coping mechanism to have a new name to be known as.
ghost is a ruthless killer. simon is just some guy.
ghost sets himself to an incredibly high standard of discipline. i think it's intuitive that military boys will need to be punctual and organized to some degree, but ghost takes this to a whole other level. considering his father's abusive behavior (explained by his disturbing statements said to simon, is a drug addict, and beats simons mom) his home life was likely chaotic as a child.
in the mw2: ghost comic (issue #3) it specifically stated the following: "discipline, precision, control. these are what riley built his whole life on. break those down and the dark stuff begins to ooze out..." again, this is probably a form of trauma response to his childhood.
so what does this lead to? well firstly, this probably means his room is incredibly tidy and organized (monotone design i know :,c).
would never in his life touch drugs. this is a promise he made to himself.
also kinda proves that ghost aint a reckless guy. he thinks things through before doing it.
ghost isn’t that hypersexual. theres no way of knowing his history with women, but i like to think ghost is not that horny 24/7 and needs a fuckbuddy. in the mw2 comic, he was on a mission and was in an area full of prostitutes (wasn’t actively on duty, but on his way) when they tried to hit on him he politely rejects one of them, and later tells them to fuck off😀 so yea contrary to popular belief i dont think he really enjoys one night stands or the idea of being entertained by random women. in fact, i hc he might actually be a virgin or just have a really low body count.
ghost is a feminist!😁 (misandrist too). ok let me reword that, ghost doesnt like men and respects women. one of the reasons why he doesn’t want to be around prostitutes and do one night stands (his father killed a hooker in front of him, very traumatic) is because he thinks the concept of quick, casual sex is not good for society and dilutes the value of meaningful relationships. but also, remember the discipline, precision, control thing? its apart of his principle. but also, in the comic, sparks (soldier he worked with) knocked out and attempted to rape a woman, ghosts literally looked disgusted and called the police (also why he’d never do that himself, i dont get the hcs that say he does). ghosts seen how his dad treated his mom and absolutely hates abusers. anyways onto misandry—i think ghost internally thinks men are violent and disgusting (ghosts would choose the bear over the man, even though hes a man) mainly because throughout his military career majority of the bad stuff hes seen was done by men, so hes much more relaxed in a room of women vs man. ghost thinks his dad is the epitome of pure evil (canon! he said this to his therapist). this doesn’t mean hes scared or hates all men tho!
ghost isn’t close with tf141… including soap. now before you attack me let me explain. sure, he trusts them to some degree, but i dont think they naturally just hangout when they’re not deployed. in the end we need to understand they are SAS soldiers, they are working a real job that mainly consists of them shooting and dismantling others. considering ghosts betrayal in the past (in the comic, a few soldiers ghost previously worked with killed his entire family 😢) he isn’t gonna just trust his teammates because theyre his teammates. im also pretty sure they all live in different cities while not deployed. tf141 probably all want to separate their job from their personal lives, which includes each other. but onto soap, i dont think him and ghost have a deep brotherly relationship. but i think they care about each other, but exchanging some dad jokes and bantering doesn’t mean they’re suddenly soulmates or brothers. think about it… you and you’re co worker joke around sometimes, never hangout outside of work, and now people are shipping you and calling the two of you besties. makes no sense.
ghost is extremely patriotic. in the comic (i reference this way too much but theres SOOO MUCH LORE i recommend reading it) ghost tells his teammates the reason for joining the military: queen and country, right after 9/11. he also said “the world has changed”. interestingly enough army enlistment did actually skyrocketed after 9/11 attacks, ghost was among them. he probably thought ww3 was about to happen, or that ‘theres no more peace’ or whatever. i hc being obsessed with soccer too lmao and getting mad if english teams dont win. also his playful banter with johnny “get us a tea?”. probably very proud of his british heritage.
ghost doesn’t have much friends. hes a really, reallyyyyy lonely guy. i hc him as an introvert in the first place, but trust issues make this worse. in the comic, he was literally in the newspaper for killing his family and then killing himself (he didnt, he was framed that way tho) so its likely most of his formers friends probably think hes dead. ghost likely got some sort of amnesty or exemption from the military after knowing he didn’t actually kill his family, but whats in the news stays true to the public. even if he does have friends he probably doesn’t share feelings with them or form a long term bond.
ghost is extremely cynical. this is obvious tbh, but i think ghost believes hes going to die in the middle of a battlefield, shot or stabbed, a painful death, body left to rot for weeks, and no one to remember him. just like that. and he accepts that fact too.
ghost isn’t a picky eater. growing up in an abusive household where his parents couldn’t hold a stable job, he had to eat what there was. some days he settles for cheap beans and toast and when people call him out for it, he tells em to fuck off😀
ghost is emotionally fucked up, probably kind of depressed. i mean this guys been through hell: got sa’d, buried alive, had to dig through underground dirt and worms with a jawbone, tortured in horrible ways, had his entire family killed, abusive dad, and the weight of his grey morales because he killed lots of people as a soldier. wow! would you look at that list, itd be more strange if he wasn’t emotionally fucked up after was has happened😅. even when tortured, seeing his family dead, ghost was never shown to have cried in the comic. i hc hes emotionally numb. however, i do think hes emotionally MATURE and able to communicate his emotions, but hes still emotionally fucked. for example a scene where he was talking about his experience with roba (guy who tortured ghost) and ghosts father to a therapist. i think ghosts may be traumatized, but this doesn’t stop him from attempting to get help and communicating how he feels and thinks about this world.
ghost wears a mask... not because hes insecure and traumatized it's to separate ghost from simon riley. first of all he learned the consequences of revealing your identity during deployment, in the comic, he reveals his face in missions before his family got killed. i think he wears a mask because 1) its practical, no one knows who he is, 2) an analogy for himself to remind him simon riley, his original identity, was dead the moment his family was murdered, this SAS soldier with a skull mask is GHOST (yes this is canon, ghost references in the comic!).
in issue #1 while some kids were being held hostage, he starts telling his life story to them to calm them down/distract them from the bad situation. this is his explanation to why he wears a skull mask, word by word: "I bet you're wondering why I wear these bones on my face. It's a tribute to an old friend of mine. He's dead now, but man if he wasn't the baddest motherfucker on the planet."
in issue #6, when ghost was trekking through a jungle in the middle of nowhere attempting to kill roba (a drug lord that started this all, brainwashed soldiers to kill ghosts family), he was never caught. ghost himself, the narrator, says that "even for a single man to get through the jungle, the patrols, the wall, the security... well that man would have to be a ghost."
however, im still a little confused whether or not reboot ghost and 2009 have the same backstories. reboot ghosts mask is more realistic and his look is much more intimidating, his reason for wearing that kind of mask is probably psychological warfare (getting milena the financier to speak up about makarov). i think 2009 ghosts reason to wearing a mask is more personal compared to reboot.
BUT WHAT ABOUT AN S/O???
i think ghost is the guy to not have one in the first place. obviously. but i lowkey think if he had one and really liked them, he would commit. in fact i find it hard to imagine hes a player or isn’t serious about relationships. when his brother tommy got addicted to drugs and fucked up his life, simon quit the military until tommy got 100% better and married. yup. he stayed to help him recover, for years. thats how loving and committed this man is🥹🥹.
ghost would not cheat on his s/o. i can't stress how important this hc is, because it's so out of character for him to do so. sure, guys in the military statistically have higher divorce rates, incidences of infidelity, and much more red flag stuff, but knowing what happened to him, he would never do that. doesn't matter how stressed, lonely, sexually frustrated this man is; he would not cheat on his partner. this guy has been through far more stressful situations and got through it, you think hes gonna cheat because hes stressed because of work?
its not sunshine and rainbows or absolute toxicity being with him. it's not really a mix of both either. ghost isn't that princess treatment, super squishy and cuddly, sweet guy who likes fluffy stuff. he definitely isn't the toxic guy who leaves you with mixed signals either.
hes quite the gentleman when it comes to approaching relationships, hes seen how his dad treated his mom, and ghost wants to do the exact opposite. i believe ghost likes to use the traditional courting methods when dating someone: gifting flowers, paying for dates, holding the door open (ladies first typa guy!!), the old fashioned stuff. idk if i should point it out again but this guy DOES NOT FW modern dating practices, he wouldn't download dating apps, or start 'talking stages'. i dont think he would write love letters just because hes not very good at writing poetry or expressing his feelings in the first place.
theres still downsides to being with him. the long distance, the time being apart (months and months). but i dont think he'd go as far as being emotionally avoidant.
also something really random ive noticed is that 2009 and reboot ghost are very different, personality wise. i like to think that 2009 ghost represents simon riley much better, but the reboot ghost actually gives the essence and character of what a 'ghost' in the military is.
more random headcanons:
simon prefers dogs over cats because dogs are loyal and stay with you until the end (stereotypically)
hates snakes and spiders
probably wouldn’t do 50/50 on dates, he pays!
avoids saying manchester slang when deployed
drinks and smokes. not always. he’s disciplined but he still does that stuff.. hes a british guy in his 30s whos kinda depressed, grew up with adults around him smoking 24/7, whatd you think😀😀 (its canon that most of tf141 smoke anyway)
listens to 80’s rock music. its canon that his mom enjoys the band siouxsie and the banshees :)), he probs does too
shaves his beard
is actually confident hes not bad looking. dude, hes 6’2, in shape with a jawline🙄
i don't enjoy hcs of ghost being the scariest out of tf141 (appearance wise yes). but soap seems much more scary imo, he was the youngest guy to pass SAS selections in the history of the UK military, and was nicknamed soap because of fast and good he is at cleaning up 'messes' (basically killing people).
id arguably say ghost is the most compassionate out of 141, if we're talking about the OG 2009 one.
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norrizzandpia · 9 months
Note
reader finding out that lando only pursued her bc one of his pr team told him to date somebody of her caliber
I love these kinds of tropes
One-Sided Fake Dating (LN4)
Summary: When Y/n has continuously been used for the image that has pristinely been constructed for her and the connections she has through relation to her parents, she has cultivated a dark image on the world, especially on love. However, when Lando comes into her life and shows her what it’s like to be wanted for who you are and not what you can provide, she begins to open up and she begins to explore what it’s like to be loved and to love. Although, nothing is permanent and what happens when the man she had thought to be better than everyone who had previously screwed her over turns out to be worse?
Warnings: angst, language, sexual references, i build this couple up just have them come crashing down, this one’s rough but all my posts are so its ok, family trauma, me being cliche when it comes to making up fake rich last names sorry sue me
Note: it’s a sad ending but AS WE ALL KNOW i cant take those so there will most likely be a part two lmk if yall want to see that
Part 2 link
She hated these things. Galas where men approached her for the last name written on her birth certificate and women fawned over her dress in order to become one step closer to the opportunities only she held access to. A drink in her hand, the little droplets leaking onto the ring adorning her finger, her eyes gazed upon attendees of the party her father had thrown. Men and women dressed to the nines in designer clothing, a rotten feeling manifested in her stomach. It was indescribably cold, something that settled within her and was a stark reminder that, in a room full of people ready to wait on her hand and foot, she was alone. Neither her father nor mother could make her feel any semblance of warmth, not when they exploited the image she had perfectly curated over the span of her life. The perfect, girl-next-door persona had been all she was destined for when she was birthed into the hands of Nick and Amy Winchester, two heirs to two successful oil businesses. Neither of them had truly made the effort to make her feel as though she was destined for more, other than a pawn in their Public Relations game.
She stared at them shortly, studying their faces and the way they moved about the room, wondering whether she had ever truly known them. Her parents were an anomaly, filthy rich and happy as ever. Although, no one ever knew what went on behind doors.
“Y/n Winchester, how lucky I am to finally meet you in person. I’ve heard so many great things.” A voice startled her from her deep mind, turning it back on to the mission at hand, putting on a front that she had everything she ever wanted.
Turning around, her gaze found that of Lando Norris, a man her parents had never shut up about, having been friends with his father and loving the way he so seamlessly fell into what they had always wanted her to be, but she never quite came close. This man was the image of the self-inadequacy she had been forced to feel from the moment she could slightly understand the concept. She despised him.
The fake smile she had flaunted for years graced her face, “Lando Norris, it’s lovely to meet you as well.”
He extended his hand to her, her fingers falling onto the bed of his as he pressed his lips to the back of her palm. The warm pressure spread up her arm and down her body as they held each other’s eyes. Something about the deep greenness of his made her want to know more, made the hatred and envy she had held for him diminish.
“I have to say you’re even more beautiful in person.” He whispered, lowering her hand but not letting go.
A tinge of red wrapped around her cheeks, “Thank you. You’re quite handsome as well.”
The entire thing felt incredibly mysterious. The way he cradled her hand; the way his eyes pierced hers; the way he was so intoxicating and the way she didn’t know why. She wanted more, wanted to know more.
Drowning in the confusion pertaining to her sudden change of feelings toward him, she couldn’t make out what he had been speaking about. As a result he simply stared at her with raised eyebrows, “Y/n, am I boring you already?”
She shook her head with a soft smile, “No, I’m sorry. Just got lost in thought.”
“About me?” He rubuttled quickly. So quick she couldn’t hesitate or think before she began nodding slowly. Her brain had shrunk at the hands of the smell of his cologne and all she could rely on was the years of PR training.
His eyebrows raised further, “Oh? Well, that’s a good sign considering I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since you walked into the room.”
She choked slightly on her drink, not expecting him to be quite forward, “Sorry?”
He smiled a sinister smile, one that drew her in and made her want to run away all at once, “You’re intoxicating, Y/n.”
She cocked her head, “Is being bold your way of picking up women, Norris?”
He shook his head with a chuckle, “Being bold is my way of trying to make you fall in love with me. The women of my past are nothing like you, Winchester. I never wanted them to fall in love with me, however, with you,” He leaned in closer, “I want you all to myself.”
Pulsing between her legs told her this night would be ending very differently then she originally intended, “Is that so? I have to say, I’m not entirely opposed.”
His lips were centimeters from hers, his hot breath fanning her face, “Good because I was never going to stop until you were.”
In the light of the morning, Y/n’s mind ran wild at the consequences of what waking up in bed next to Lando Norris meant. He was known for sleeping around, for playing women and adding notches to his bedpost. Being another one of his past girls wouldn’t go over well for her image, an innocent and pure one that was meticulously portrayed so no one would see her as something inherently sexual.
However, as his arm slung over her waist, she couldn’t find it in herself to truly care. Sure, she was a bit panicked for what her parents would say, but with the memories of the night before and the dull aching between her legs, she knew this wouldn’t be a one time thing.
Throwing caution to the wind wasn’t something she typically did, but maybe she could try just this once.
His arm rustled on her warm skin, his eyelids creaking open as he stared at her, “Morning, Y/n.”
She giggled, “Not a good morning for you, Norris?”
His teeth peaked through in a flirtatious grin, “No, Winchester. It is a very very good morning.”
She turned around, slipping out of his arms and off the bed to pull her dress back on.
“What are you doing?” He asked, a grovel in his voice that made her never want to leave the quiet oasis of his room.
She turned around with a questionable glint in her eyes, “Leaving?”
He shook his head and propped his body up on his elbow, leaning over to grab her hand softly, “No, Y/n. Stay.”
There was a pleading in his eyes, one she had never seen in the media and one she had certainly never seen throughout the time they spent together. It made her give in.
She plopped back in bed next to him, his arm fell around her shoulders and he kissed her temple, “Why are you still in clothes?”
She laughed, thinking he was joking, but his hands over the soft skin of her arms as he pulled it down made the joyous sound dwindle down.
She certainly stopped laughing when his lips started descending down her stomach.
A persistent knocking on her door had her groaning and running over, “I’m coming!”
Her hand clutched the door knob, throwing open the door of her apartment near her university's campus, before she was greeted with the sweet image of her boyfriend.
She tilted her head with a soft smile, “Lan? What are you doing here?”
He pushed through the threshold, a nice smell of roses hitting her nose as he turned around to face her in her foyer.
“What’s with the flowers?” She questioned as he just stood there with an innocent smile.
He walked closer, planting a short kiss on her lips before whispering, “Happy three months.”
He held the flowers in between their bodies, continuing to grin at her as the occasion dawned on her.
She wrapped him in a hug, taking the red plant from his hands and kissing his cheek aggressively, “You are so cute! Thank you!”
He followed her further into the apartment as she went to the kitchen to put them in water. Questions flew from her lips, “How’d you know? Were you keeping track? You didn’t do this for our one month or two? Also, I thought we agreed to only celebrate the big ones like six months or a year? Was I supposed to get you something? Oh shit, Lan, I didn’t get you something.”
He giggled at her and shook his head, slithering his arms around her waist and pulling her into him when she was done with the flowers, “No, love, I just got a Snapchat memory that informed me it was three months ago today I asked you to be my girlfriend. I was going to ignore it, but I thought against it when I remembered how lucky I am to have you. I thought I’d just remind you of that.”
She blushed and wrapped her arms around his neck, “You’re sweet.”
“Only for you.” He murmured as she closed the gap between their lips.
At first, Y/n was a bit hesitant with Lando. With his past with women, sleeping around and never holding a commitment, she wondered if he would treat her a priority. Although, she was pleasantly surprised when he started speaking to her, treating her better than any of her ex’s. He was kind and gentle, compassionate, empathetic, understanding, and loving. He was everything and she was beginning to think he was her everything.
They continued kissing in her kitchen before she was reminded of the homework splayed out on the desk in her room, stress riddling her body once more. Lando clocked the tension, letting his hands rub up and down her back soothingly before softly speaking, “You okay, love?”
She tried to nod, but shook her head instead, her face pressing into his chest as she huffed, “No, I’m so stressed.”
Lando frowned, “Why? What’s going on?”
She led him to her room, his hand clutched in hers as she dragged him. When they reached her door, she opened it and he found a messy room drowning in papers and textbooks. The sight of it let alone made him panic.
“Christ,” He murmured. His hand squeezed hers in support as the two stared upon the mess.
Her voice became wobbly as she spoke, “I have so many assignments due and my room is a fucking shit show. I can’t think when it’s like this. It just adds to my stress. I don’t know what to do, Lando. I don’t have time to clean my room, I don’t have time to eat, I don’t have time to sleep. I’m fucking drowning.”
She choked up as her words felt suffocating. Lando was quick to pull her back into him, shushing her and caressing the hair on her head as she sniffled into his shirt. He led her to her bed, sitting her down and letting her lean on him, emotionally and physically. When she calmed down, he whispered into her hair, his lips having kissed multiple times there, “How about you sit at your desk, do what you can of your assignments, and I clean your room. I’ll make it spotless that way you don’t have to worry about it and then I’ll make some dinner, yeah? I can order in from your favorite place or I can make it myself. Whatever you want, baby. But, when your room is clean and the food is ready, you will give yourself a break. Trust me, laying with me on the couch and watching movies before going to bed at a reasonable hour will help you tomorrow so you can get more things done. You will get through this.”
She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with glossy eyes, “You’d clean my room for me?”
He chuckled, hands cradling her face, “Of course, love. I’d do a lot more for you.”
🏎️
Four hours later, Lando had cleaned her entire apartment, ordered her favorite meal from a diner down the street, and plated it on the countertop of her kitchen. He was pleased with himself when he walked into her room, lightly pulled her earphone out and led her back into the kitchen where her face lit up at what he had done. Falling into his arms, she mumbled quick praises of gratitude into his neck, kissing at the skin as a thank you.
The wrinkles in her forehead had loosened by the time they made it to the couch, his legs kicked up as she sprawled out on him. There was quiet conversation of what they would watch before settling on The Holiday, a movie Y/n had loved since the moment she watched it when she was twelve.
As much as she loved it, however, she fell asleep twenty minutes in. Soft intakes of breath alerted Lando of the sleeping girl on him and he decided to stay there. He watched the movie all the way through, scratching her back softly throughout the entire thing. She moved a bit, but never away from him, always closer to him and his heart warmed every time.
When he laid her down in her bed and she whispered for him to stay, there was no argument in his mind. He stayed and he was beginning to think he always would.
“What’s your biggest fear?” Lando said into the darkness of the night as they sat in his car.
Y/n thought it over, knowing exactly what it was, but deciding if spilling that to him was appropriate in a five month relationship.
“Spiders.” She replied, fear taking over and forcing her out of what she truly wanted to say.
Lando looked over at her blankly, “What’s your biggest fear, Y/n?”
She laughed, “Spiders, Lan.”
He shook his head, “Tell me the truth, love.”
She exhaled a breath and began, “Going my entire life without making my parents proud.”
Her sentence hung in the air, her words hitting him as he searched for clarification, “You have made them proud, Y/n.”
She scoffed and shook her head as the feeling of Lando’s hand slipping into hers spread throughout her body in a grave reminder that he was there for her, “No, they have never looked at me long enough to see what I’ve tried to achieve and what I have achieved.”
His eyes bore into the side of her face as he listened intently, “No one knows that my parents are not who they portray themselves to be. Sure, they’re in love and they have fun times together, but they never wanted me. I know that, they know that, the staff, and the people they’ve employed to keep our image know that. They had me out of obligation, out of pressure from the outside world to have a child after they got married. I know they never wanted children, they’ve both said it to me before. From the moment I was born, I was not seen as a human or a baby who needed nurturing, I was seen as an object that could warmly slip into the narrative of their lives and compliment the rumors surrounding them. I was never meant to be anything else than their public pride and joy. Privately, I have never meant anything.”
Lando’s fingers grazed over the skin of her cheek, wiping a tear she hadn’t realized was there. He turned her face to his, forcing her eyes to see the love that ran deep for her, and stated so forcefully, “You are so much more than that.”
She stared at him, not knowing what to say to something that had never been reaffirmed in her entire life, and waited for him to continue.
“For them to disregard you that way shows how shallow they are. It has nothing to do with you. You are not nothing. You should’ve never been exploited and made to feel as though you served someone else. You are wanted. I want you, Y/n. That means something. I know it does because I love you and I want you.” He finished, wiping the tears that flowed down her cheeks.
In a broken whisper, “You love me?”
He smiled at her, leaning in and letting his lips rest just beside hers, “From the moment I met you.”
The words brought life back into her body as she softly giggled through the wetness on her cheeks, “I thought you were trying to make me fall in love with you. Didn’t think the plan was for you to fall in love with me too.”
It wasn’t, he thought.
He kissed her, “It’s hard not to fall in love with someone like you. You are my everything, Y/n.”
Right there. His last sentence echoed what had been repeating in her head for months. A person who loved her just as much as she loved them, what a sight.
“I love you too, you know.” She said, loving the way he continued to wipe residual tears and whisper soft words that contradicted the idea engrained in her head that she wasn’t meant for great things, that she wasn’t intelligent or a force to be reckoned with. Single-handedly, unknowingly, Lando changed her narrative and the idea that, once her parents were gone, she was useless.
He nodded, “I know. I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
He wouldn’t, that was the truth. What this relationship was built on, though? He couldn’t bear to utter the words.
Lies.
Galas. Something she used to hate, but, with Lando’s hand on her thigh and his jokes in her ear, she began to find fun in them.
“Don’t you think that woman’s dress makes her look like a flamingo?” Lando lowly whispered as he discreetly pointed to someone across the room that had a light pink dress on, ruffled with feathers.
His comparison was spot on and Y/n had to stop herself from snorting out her drink, “Lando! Stop!”
She giggled and he leaned into her, the two a picture of young love. There were others sitting beside them at the table, drinking expensive wine from expensive glasses and observing the famous couple. In the six months they had been together, the public had not ceased to stop talking about the two. Lando had skyrocketed to worldwide fame, larger than what he had possessed before. Y/n being the internet’s it girl, heiress to billion-dollar oil companies and a young woman who had everything everybody else wanted, forced Lando into a large spotlight. There was traction surrounding his name and because of his connection to her, his companies, his career saw an increase in brand deals, income essentially. By just being her boyfriend, everything tied to Lando had exponentially grown. McLaren included. It was everything they had expected.
A little too much wine in one of Lando’s coworkers was dangerous as he blabbered out, “I’m surprised you two are still together!”
There were a few knowing chuckles around the table as everyone eyed each other. Lando gave him a fixed glare, dark and challenging as he tried to plead with the drunk man to stop talking.
Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed as she leaned in, “What do you mean?”
The man threw his hands up as he leaned back in his chair, “Just with the way you two got together, I didn’t think Lando would stick around for this long.”
“Y/n, let’s go.” Lando stood abruptly from the table, his hand in hers as he tried to pull her from the situation.
Y/n shook her head as all eyes stared at her, “No, Lando, what’s he talking about?”
Lando pleaded with her, “Y/n, listen to me. It doesn’t matter. Please. Come with me. Let’s leave.”
She was stuck, wanting to pry into the man’s mind, but seeing the way Lando was begging her to comply.
However, at the end of the day, she was a curious individual.
“Sorry,” She stuck her hand out to smooth down the table cloth, “Can you please elaborate?”
“Y/n-” Lando started, but she just shook her head.
His mind raced as reality dawned on him and the moment where he lost her came to fruition.
Wine sloshed out of his glass as the man drank the last sip before he began, “Lando started dating you because of your last name.”
There was a lingering smile on her lips from previously wanting to keep a happy demeanor at the Gala, but the moment the sentence fell from his lips, it gradually faded.
Lando sat back down beside her and wrapped a hand around her arm, the other on her thigh, and squeezed harshly.
“Y/n, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
The man scoffed, “What are you talking about?! I was there! I was the one who suggested you approach her. I was the one who laid out what would happen to your career if you dated Y/n Winchester. Come on, Lando, don’t be a liar.”
Her heart beat slowly as she scanned the table, the others still sipping on their glasses as they watched the scene play out. Their expressions, lacking shock, made her realize that every person sitting before her knew that Lando’s love for her was a joke. Everyone, but her.
Her head gradually turned to the side, capturing Lando’s eyes with hers. There was still pleading within them, but, this time, he was pleading for her to still love him, for her to not leave him.
To hell with him, she thought.
“Is this true?” She asked, her tone cold and distant as she ripped her arm and leg from his grasp.
He shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face in anxiety, “No, well, kind of. Yes, but- Y/n,” He shot up from his chair as she made a move to leave.
She grabbed her purse which was hung over the back of her chair, her legs making quick strides toward the exit. Lando, being taller than her, walked quickly beside her, spewing out words that now meant nothing to her.
“I’m so sorry, Y/n,” He choked out. She didn’t have to look to know he was crying, “I didn’t know what I was doing. I was half drunk the night we got together, so were you. I always thought you were gorgeous. What I’m trying to say, fuck, is that it was never truly fake for me. You did mean something to me. You mean something to me. Y/n, are you listening to me?”
She threw open the doors to the party, letting the cool air coat the cold blood running through her veins, and whipped around aggressively to face him.
“Did you mean it when you said it?” She yelled, strong front trying desperately to stay up as she crumbled to pieces on the inside.
Lando shook his head in confusion, “When I said what?”
She stopped her foot on the ground, heel threatening to snap under the force, “When you said you loved me! When you said I meant everything to you! When you said I had purpose! Did you mean it?!”
She screamed at him and he stepped closer, but she put a hand up, “Don’t fucking come near me.”
Lando stood helplessly, “Yes, of course, I meant it. Y/n, everything was real for me.”
She cocked her head, “Was it? When did it stop being a ploy for my last name?”
Lando let his head fall to look at the ground, “The morning after we slept together.”
She groaned loudly, tears now falling freely from her cheeks, “Oh! How sweet! So, after you had sex with me, you started truly feeling something for me. If that’s even fucking true. You know, Lando,” She willed his eyes to keep her stare as she yelled, “You’re no better than everybody in there. I told you how I’ve never had anybody be in my life without wanting what comes with having a name like mine. I told you, I confided in you, how much it hurt for a ten word name to mean more than the feelings I have, to mean more than who I am as a person. You’re no better than my father, my mother, and everybody else who has exploited me in the past. Actually!” She continued, not caring that Lando was wiping tears off his face with his white button up, “Actually, you’re worse than all of them. At least, they were obvious with wanting me for the things I could give them. You made me think you loved me. You made me think that you fell in love with me for who I am. You made me think that I was finally being seen as a human being.”
Lando shot back, “I do love you, don’t fucking fight that. Don’t question that. I sure as fuck fell in love with you for who you are and I see you as who you are. Your last name doesn’t mean shit to me, Y/n.”
She hit his chest with her hand, “But, it did! It did, Lando, and that makes this fucking tainted! You’re just like them! You’re just like-”
She broke down into sobs, crying pathetically into his arms as he tried to coax her. The sound of betrayal was evident in the way she cried, a different kind to the one he heard before when her parents dismissed her or someone tried gaining something from her. This betrayal cut deep because of the love that clutched her heart and refused to let go even in the wake of what he had done. This betrayal ruined any semblance of trust she had with the world, demolishing it for anyone that tried to do what he attempted; to love her.
A moment went by, Y/n gathering herself and realizing she laid in the arms of someone she no longer trusted, and she forcefully backed herself away from him. Wiping her tears with his suit jacket, the one a bit too big for her because it was tailored to his frame and the one he had given her earlier in the night when she had grown cold, Y/n stopped meeting his eye.
“Delete my number from your phone. Never fucking talk to me again. You should be fucking ashamed of yourself.” She murmured, turning around and trying to walk down the dark street before Lando reached out to grab her arm.
When he forced her to turn around, his eyes were bloodshot and begging for forgiveness, begging for her, “Y/n, I love you. Please. Please.”
Still, she couldn’t meet his eye, softly and defeatedly whispering, “I will never be able to figure out if you love me for me or love me for what I can give to you. That is why this will never work. That is why you need to let go of my arm and let me go back to my apartment without you. That is why you need to let me go.”
He kept a hold on her arm and on the life he wanted them to have together, “Y/n, I can show you. I can show you how much you mean to me. Please, just give me another chance.”
She shook her head, “Goddamnit, Lando! Let fucking go of me! This is ruined! It will never be the same! You have done the worst possible thing. You have hurt me in the worst possible way. You have treated me the way everyone else has. I am not something you can use because you are greedy.”
He nodded his head intently, “I know. I know that. I always have.”
Fed up and emotionally distraught, Y/n ripped her arm from his hold and no longer did he reach out for her when her last parting words were, “No, you always haven’t. If you always had, you would’ve never approached me and we would’ve never found ourselves here.”
A/N: part 2?
UPDATE: part 2 posted
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