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pucksandpower · 11 months ago

Text

Of Roomates and Revenge

Lewis Hamilton x fake girlfriend!Reader

Featuring Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, Charles Leclerc, Pierre Gasly, Esteban Ocon, and Nico Rosberg

Summary: in which your search for a free place to stay leads to helping one half of Brocedes live out his petty fantasy for revenge … and falling in love while doing so

Cat and Apartment Sitter Needed (Monaco)

Compensation: €1500/week plus all the Red Bull you can drink

I��m a world-traveling young professional who is rarely home. My two beautiful and rambunctious bengal cats need someone to stay with them in my Monaco apartment whenever I’m away for work.

The ideal candidate will be an experienced cat person who is prepared to deal with a lot of energy, chaos, and shenanigans from these two little terrors. They knock everything off every surface, wrestle at 3am, and will likely attempt to smother you while you sleep. If you can handle that, we’ll get along just fine.

In addition to caring for the cats, you will need to keep my place relatively tidy (i.e. no crushed Red Bull cans or fast food wrappers everywhere), collect any packages or mail that arrives, and randomly turn a few lights on and off every evening so the neighbors don’t get suspicious.

The position is ideal for a mature student, digital nomad, or someone between living situations who wants an amazing place to stay for free in one of the world’s hotspots.

Drop me a line if you think you can handle the cats from hell and wouldn't mind living in a 230 m² penthouse apartment with a private terrace, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a badass view of the Mediterranean. Preference goes to non-smokers who follow directions well and won’t throw ragers when I’m gone.

Send a brief intro, your experience with cats, and a couple photos attached. Urgently need someone for various stretches starting mid-February.

Do NOT contact me with unsolicited services or offers.

Live-in Cactus Caretaker Needed (Monaco)

Compensation: €1000/week, free snacks, and you can play my Xbox

I’m a young dude who’s rarely home because of my job that involves a lot of international travel. I have a single cactus plant that I promised my mum I would keep alive until she visits again. The thing is ... I have absolutely no idea how to care for plants. Like, I nearly killed it the first week by forgetting it existed.

What I need is someone responsible who can essentially live in my swanky Monaco apartment whenever I’m gone and keep my tiny cactus friend alive.

Duties would include:

Watering the cactus like ... once a month? Twice a month? I don’t know how often it needs water

Not letting the cactus die in any other way (pretty sure they need sunlight too … I think)

Keeping the place tidy (I’m a bit of a mess)

In return, you’d get:

A sick apartment all to yourself with a stunning view, giant TV, and full kitchen (please for the love of god be careful in there ... I almost burned the place down trying to make a grilled cheese once. Seriously, I'm not exaggerating. I almost went up in flames over a silly sandwich. If you can't even operate a microwave, we may have problems. There’s only room for one idiot like that in Monaco — and it’s me)

Unlimited snacks/drinks from my well-stocked pantry

Free rein over my gaming setup (just don’t break anything)

First dibs on any events/reservations I can’t make

The ideal person is responsible, shows they can follow basic instructions for cactus care, laidback since you’ll be alone a lot, and trustworthy enough not to wreck the place or throw illegal parties. Having a green thumb would be great, but frankly if you can manage not to kill the one plant, that’s good enough for me.

Send a brief bio about yourself and your qualifications as a cactus/housesitter if interested! I’m gone quite frequently starting in February so could use someone ASAP.

No scammy offers or soliciting, please!

Roommate Needed to Drink Wine and Listen to My Woes (Monaco)

Compensation: Free rent in a nice apartment, plus all the wine you can drink

Are you a good listener? Do you enjoy dry red wines and occasional bouts of tears and venting? If so, I’ve got the perfect living situation for you!

I’m a youngish guy with a high-stress job that involves a lot of traveling. When I’m home in Monaco, I tend to unwind by polishing off a couple bottles of nice Bordeaux or Burgundy while complaining about work, my colleagues, and my rival who is giving me really mixed signals.

What I need is a roommate who doesn’t mind a little drunken blubbering here and there.

You’ll get:

Your own bedroom in my spacious 2BR/2BA apartment in the La Condamine district

Rights to my kitchen, living room with large TV, piano, and music recording equipment

Access to the building’s pool, sauna, fitness center, and lounge areas

As much wine as you can drink (and more)

In exchange, you’ll be expected to:

Listen to my periodic rants and rave sessions without judgement

Preferably nod along or offer supportive-sounding feedback like “Yeah, that’s really tough man” or “Wow, they sound terrible”

Refill wine glasses as needed

Maybe rub my back or pat my head if I’m really going through it

The ideal candidate is a decent human being who can empathize with the high-pressure struggles of a young professional trying to make it in a cut-throat career.

You’ll need a decent amount of free time and lots of patience. Prior experience as a life coach, therapist, or sympathetic drinking buddy is a plus.

If you can handle crying guys after a few too many glasses of Châteauneuf-du-Pape, inquire within! Include a little about yourself and why you would make a good non-judgmental wine friend. Merci!

Expand Your Search? Similar Opportunities:

Impartial Referee Wanted for Parking Lot Brawls (France)

Compensation: €400 per event

Two athletic young men in their late-20s are looking for a level-headed third party to oversee and officiate their semi-regular parking lot boxing matches. Yes, you read that right — we’re talking straight-up fisticuffs in the back alley behind the Circuit Paul Ricard.

A little background: We’ve been frenemies/rivals since we were kids — constantly competing in friends, employment opportunities, you name it. There’s a healthy amount of hatred between us that simply can't be resolved through words alone. Every few months, we feel the need to just take out our pent-up aggression on each other's faces.

Up until now, it’s been an unregulated shitshow with no real rules or oversight. We’re looking for someone impartial who can:

Set some fair ground rules around where/how we can strike

Ensure no prop weapons get involved (last time he tried to scalp me with a wrench)

Officiate and declare a winner once one of us is knocked out or quits

Ideally have some basic first-aid skills in case of a nasty cut or broken nose

We will pay €400 cash at the start of each bout. You’ll get a free show of two extremely fit dudes wailing on each other until there’s a clear victor.

Loser exits with his tail between his legs, winner gets to gloat for the next couple months until we run it back.

If you can be a neutral third party and aren’t squeamish about a little blood, send us your info with some details about yourself and your experience resolving conflicts (legally or not). First come first served — our next fight is tentatively scheduled for mid-May!

No flakes or perverts, please. Serious connoisseurs of violence only.

P.S. Don’t be scared to give out penalties (one of us is used to that)

Actor or Actress Needed to Annoy Ungrateful Ex-Friend (Monaco)

Compensation: €2700 per week, free luxury accommodations

I’m a successful guy in my late 30s looking to hire someone to pretend to be my significant other for a few months. Before you get the wrong idea, let me explain ...

I had a major falling out with a former best friend who stabbed me in the back years ago. We live in the same apartment building, just one floor apart.

I’m trying to show him how amazing my life still is without him … and maybe make him jealous in the process.

That’s where you come in. I need you to move into my penthouse temporarily and act as my gorgeous new boyfriend/girlfriend.

Your main duties would include:

Loudly introducing yourself to said ex-friend by knocking on his door and being line “Hi, is [insert my name] here?” Then pretend to be embarrassed and apologize when he tells you that you’re at the wrong apartment

Hang out in the hallway near his place and have very loud fake conversations detailing our imaginary passionate nights together (rated R)

Post cringy coupley photos on your social media of us dressed up going out, cuddling on my yacht, etc

Ideally you’re an aspiring actor/actress or just a really convincing liar. Being somewhat loud and dramatic is a plus. You’ll need to be willing to play along if my petty ex-friend tries to confront us.

In return, you’ll be living in a lavish penthouse with all the amenities for free. You’ll have your own private suite and can hang out on the oversized balcony, by the pool, or in the media room when you’re off the clock. Might also be able to introduce you to some high-profile people if you’re trying to network.

Oh, and my bulldog will provide plenty of cuddles.

If you can pull off a remarkably realistic fake partner act and aren’t afraid of a little light deception, hit me up! Please include a couple photos plus a bit about yourself and your acting experience. Aiming to start mid-April.

I’m an equal opportunity employer — girlfriend, boyfriend, nonbinary partner, you name it. All genders welcome to apply for the role if you’ve got what it takes! Only preference is that you have especially luscious hair … for reasons.

No weirdos please.

Hi,

Okay, I have to admit — your ridiculous request to hire a fake girlfriend to make your ex-best friend jealous is quite possibly the pettiest thing I’ve ever heard. And I absolutely love it.

I’m literally the perfect person for this role. Petty vengeance is my middle name (well, not really, it's actually Y/M/N ... but you get the idea).

A little about my qualifications:

Took some theatre electives in university so I can really sell the dramatics

Lots of experience putting on an Oscar-worthy performance faking ... well, you know ... thanks to my douchebag ex-boyfriend who couldn’t be bothered to learn how to pleasure a woman 🙄

Not afraid to get LOUD and will happily reenact our “passionate nights” at earsplitting volumes in that hallway

Can pull off playing dumb if your friend tries to interrogate me about you (“Oh [whatever your name is]? Yeah he’s just the best at ... stuff”)

No shame in my pettiness game — I once spent my weekly paycheck on a Cameo just so an ex’s favorite celebrity would call him a dingleberry

In terms of looks, I’ve been told I have just the right amount of “hot” to make your poor pal jealous without it being too unbelievable. I’m attaching a few photos for reference.

Let me know if you want to meet up for a glass of wine and we can workshop some juicy storylines for our imaginary romance. Perhaps I was a former fling you rediscovered? A hot younger thing giving you a new lease on life? The possibilities are endless!

I’m a pro at faking it, so selling our relationship will be a piece of cake. Your ex-friend will be bright green with envy by the time I’m through!

Let’s make him regret the day he double-crossed you, babe.

Cheers,

Y/N

r/offmychest

u/NotBritneySpears · 16h

My ex-best friend’s new girlfriend is the WORST!

I really need to get this off my chest. My upstairs neighbor’s new girlfriend is, without a doubt, the most insufferable human being on the planet. She’s loud, obnoxious, and seems to take immense pleasure in tormenting me for some reason.

A little background: I used to be really close friends with my neighbor. We had a big falling out a while back over ... well, it’s a long story. We don’t talk anymore and there’s a lot of resentment between us. Clearly the universe is trying to get back at me now with this new girl.

This chick has made it her personal mission to give me a play-by-play account of every single intimate encounter she has with him. And I mean DETAILED accounts. The other day I was just trying to enjoy my morning coffee and I hear her incredibly shrill voice from right outside my door:

“Oh he was an ANIMAL last night! The things he did with his tongue, I thought I was going to pass out!”

Like, seriously? Keep it to yourself, weirdo! That’s just the tame stuff too. Sometimes she’ll go into pretty graphic detail describing body parts and positions that I really didn’t need a mental picture of.

Here’s the thing — she quite obviously positions herself to be as close as possible to my apartment without actually trespassing — I mean, she doesn’t even live on my floor for god’s sake! So every word comes through crystal clear. I’ve confronted her about it a few times and she just plays dumb, like:

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry if I was being loud! We just get so carried away sometimes, you know how it is,” with this stupid ditzy valley girl voice and hair toss.

I don’t know if my former best friend put her up to this or if she’s just a massive troll in her own right. But it’s like psychological warfare at this point. Literally ANY time I’m home, I have to listen to her yap about their Sex Olympian-level escapades.

My wife even heard them once and thought I was playing porn at an insane volume! She doesn’t believe me that it’s just this deranged lady running her mouth constantly.

I’m half-tempted to start recording her rants and blast them back at full volume to give them a taste of their own medicine. Or maybe start describing lurid details of my own (admittedly not quite so colorful) sex life in retaliation.

I don’t know, maybe I’m being oversensitive. But living under these two insufferable assholes is a waking nightmare. I need to move or something because this is massively affecting my peace of mind. Who knows if they will ever get bored of tormenting me and move on.

Rant over. Thanks for letting me vent about the neighbors from hell.

u/chronicgossiper · 12h

Damn, that sucks man. Your neighbor and his gf sound like immature assholes trying to get a rise out of you. I’d look into noise complaint options or even see if you can get them evicted for harassment.

Reply to u/chronicgossiper · 11h

Seriously? You really think the landlord would evict someone over this? It’s not like they’re blasting music at 3am. Sounds more like passive aggressive pettiness than anything illegal.

u/chronicgossiper · 10h

Idk, having to listen to people loudly describe their sex acts against your will seems like it could qualify as harassment or creating a hostile environment. Worth exploring at least if they won’t stop.

u/NotBritneySpears · 9h

Eviction isn’t really an option here since we all own our apartments and there’s no landlord dictating that. It’s not that type of building.

u/nosyandproud · 8h

Did your former friend move into that building first or did you move in knowing he lived there?

u/NotBritneySpears · 7h

He was there first, I bought my place a few years after him when I could afford it. Never expected he'd pull something this childish.

Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 6h

So you willingly moved into the same building as your ex-best friend that you aren’t on speaking terms with? That’s just asking for drama, dude.

u/NotBritneySpears · 5h

It’s a great building in an amazing location. I wasn’t going to not pursue the opportunity just because he lives there too. It’s a big place, I didn’t think we’d be running into each other much.

Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 4h

Still seems like a weird decision to willingly insert yourself into his orbit like that if the relationship was so fractured. Probably should’ve seen some fallout coming.

u/nosyandproud · 3h

Yeah exactly, why would you move somwhere your ex-friend lives if you two clash that much? Kinda put yourself in this situation.

u/NotBritneySpears · 2h

Okay, let me be clear — he and I were best friends for over a decade before we had a colossal falling out a few years ago. We’re not just some casual ex-buddies who don’t get along. We were legitimately very close for most of our lives until things went nuclear between us. When I decided to move into the building, our friendship had been over for a while already. I really didn’t anticipate he’d take things to this vindictive level years later. I’m not going to miss out on my dream home just because of what happened between us.

Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 1h

This is getting juicyyy, do tell about what caused the falling out!

u/NotBritneySpears

Not really trying to dredge up old drama, that’s a whole other can of worms. The girlfriend situation is annoying enough as is.

Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 51m

Fair enough, you gave context. Still think you two need to have an adult conversation about boundaries. Purposely trying to loudly narrate their sex life at you is unhinged.

r/relationships

u/yourusername · 19h

I’m catching real feelings for the guy who hired me to be his fake girlfriend to get revenge on his ex-friend ... help?

Buckle up folks, because I’ve got one hell of a tangled situation to unpack here. This is going to be a long one.

About a month ago, I responded to this Facebook Marketplace ad from a guy (let’s call him L) looking to hire someone to pretend to be his new girlfriend. The goal was to make his former best friend/downstairs neighbor jealous after a brutal falling out between them.

I know, I know, it sounds ridiculous. But the benefits were good and I’d be living in his insane luxury penthouse in Monaco rent-free. More importantly, I really vibed with L’s pettiness and desire to get deliciously pathetic revenge on his ex-friend. My last boyfriend was the actual worst, so I was absolutely here for any slightly insane Karen antics.

Anyway, we hit it off immediately at the “audition” over drinks. L is brilliant, successful, gorgeous, and fucking hilarious in a sarcastic, unfiltered way. We both have a wicked mean streak and frankly get off on emotionally messy situations. It was like looking into a mirror — two beautiful trainwrecks finding each other in the wreckage.

From night one, we had crazy chemistry. The back-and-forth banter was electric, we finished each other’s sentences, etc. I felt so comfortable around him despite the bizarre circumstances. I assumed it was all fun and games to toy with his former best friend.

But over the last few weeks of loudly chronicling our “sex marathons”!outside said ex-friend’s door and doing phony coupley things around the city, I’ve realized my feelings are ... complicated. L and I CONNECT on a deeper level, in addition to just being partners in crime. We’ll be tangled up watching movies and he’ll make some perfectly timed quippy comment that has me cackling until my abs hurt. Or we’ll get deliriously wasted and end up baring our souls about our upbringings, dreams, fears — everything.

I’ve never been so open or comfortable around someone before. Our walls are gone. And the most messed up part? Some small, perverse part of me loves the strange intimacy we’ve manufactured through this farce. How much closer can you get than meticulously co-creating a fictional relationship?

In the beginning, I think we were both just in it for the laughs and pettiness factor. But something shifted for me recently. One night we were drunkenly rehearsing how I was going to describe our latest imaginary tryst to his ex-friend and ... I don’t know, I couldn’t stop staring at his lips while he was talking. His face was so close to mine and I felt breathless. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to ditch the script and really kiss him. I had to physically stop myself from lunging forward.

Later, when I went back to my room, I was hit with a crushing wave of realization — I have actual romantic FEELINGS for this basketcase who hired me to play-act as his girlfriend! What the actual fuck?

Guys, I’m in too deep. How did I let this happen? L is technically still my employer and this whole operation has an expiration date. His former friend is already growing visibly annoyed, so Phase 2 (feign a dramatic breakup, I move out, L moves on with his life) is likely coming up very soon.

Do I just bury my feelings and end this gig without saying anything? Do I risk the humiliation of confessing my heart to someone who was only pretending to want me around? Or should I just go for it and make out with him next time we’re tangled on the couch? I’m spiraling here!

The pettiness that brought us together may also tear us apart. Or maybe I’m just a sad clown who read too much into a fake relationship. Someone slap me with a reality check, please! I need perspective from the outside.

Tl;DR - Developed legit romantic feelings for the guy who hired me to be his fake girlfriend as part of his weird revenge plot. Not sure if I should come clean, keep it professional, or start actually making out with him for real. This was NOT part of the deal!

u/judgingloudly · 18h

Oh honey, you are in a MESS. This is like a bad romcom plot but IRL. I think your only real option is to fess up and tell L how you’re feeling. Contrary to popular belief, the fake dating trope doesn’t always have to stay pretend!

If he doesn’t feel the same way, at least you put it all out there and can move on with some dignity intact. But who knows — from how you describe the crazy chemistry and connection, he might feel relieved you said something first! Don’t let this fire burn out without taking your shot. Oh and definitely keep us updated, I’m invested now!

Reply to u/judgingloudly · 17h

I agree with this take. You already acknowledged you’re in too deep emotionally. Might as well put those cards on the table and let the chips fall where they may. Shooting your shot is always better than letting the “what if” eat away at you forever!

u/livefordrama · 16h

I’m sorry but I simply must ask — how did you land a gig like this? And does he happen to have any more openings for a fake girlfriend? Asking for a friend …

u/yourusername · 15h

Honestly it was a random Facebook ad looking for exactly this — a girl to move in and fake date this guy to drive his feuding neighbor up the wall. I applied semi-joking but he picked me!

As for openings, not that I know of ... yet. I may have to quit soon depending how this all plays out, so will keep you posted if my spot opens up!

Reply to u/yourusername · 14h

Omg please do! I would 100% take on a role like this, it sounds like a total riot.

u/unpaidtherapist · 13h

Girl, I think you already know what you have to do here. Is keeping things professional and never admitting your feelings really an option at this point? You’re clearly enamored with this guy and he seems to reciprocate the intensity at least platonically so far. I say GO FOR IT!

Just pull him aside one day, say “hey this isn’t just an act for me anymore, I really like you and need to know if there’s a possibility for us or not.” If he’s as caught off guard and freaked out as you’re implying, a direct conversation is needed to get those cards on the table. Don’t die wondering “what if?” That’s my advice.

u/everydayopportunist · 12h

This is so wild, I’m living for this drama! Seriously might need to pursue some similar gigs myself, apparently that’s where all the romance happens these days 😂

u/devilsadvocate · 11h

I’m sorry but I have to go against the grain here — please do NOT make a move or confess any feelings! This guy hired you for a very specific job under very specific pretenses. Catching real feels was not part of the deal at all. Selfishly throwing that at him out of the blue would be so unfair after he opened his home to you. I worry he could feel betrayed and violated even if he did secretly like you back.

My advice? Give it a few weeks, see if these feelings persist or if it was just a passing crush brought on by the intimacy you’ve found yourselves in. If it’s still intense after cooling off, then maybe consider looping him in. But don’t go nuclear until you're absolutely sure. You could risk imploding a good work situation and friendship over a temporary infatuation. Tread very lightly!

Reply to u/devilsadvocate · 10h

I’m with this take, OP shouldn’t jeopardize her living situation if her feelings might be fleeting. Taking a step back and giving it more time could provide clarity. It’s easy to get caught up in the fantasy.

The more prudent move is to wait until the “job” wraps up before considering opening that can of worms. If feelings persist minus the contrived closeness, she’ll know it's real. But springing it on the guy now seems wildly unfair and could blow up in her face.

r/AmITheAsshole

u/veganGOAT · 15h

AITA for turning down my fake girlfriend after she admitted feelings, only to want her back days later?

I think I may have tremendously fucked up in a spectacularly messy way. Let me walk you through the tangled web I’ve woven ...

A couple months ago, I (39M) hired this woman to essentially move into my apartment and pretend to be my new girlfriend. I know it sounds batshit crazy … but I was trying to make my ex-best friend/neighbor jealous after a bitter falling out between us.

She was the perfect partner for this ruse — sarcastic and spunky, with a hint of unhinged energy. We bonded instantly over bottles of wine and throwing deliciously overblown “loud sex” performances in the hallway to drive my ex-friend nuts. What was meant to be a transaction quickly bloomed into a legitimately fun, effortless friendship.

Soon after, we started having real sex. It sort of just … happened, albeit very awkwardly at first. Like “well this is weird, want to try it for real just to see?” And what do you know, we had insane chemistry between the sheets too! We were soon sleeping together nearly every night, always swearing afterwards that it was “just for fun” and didn’t mean anything more.

But I started catching feelings. She was hilarious, confident, beautiful — everything I could ever want in a partner. We had connected on a deeper level through the medium of batshit pettiness. And our physical intimacy only amplified that bond.

Cut to a couple weeks ago. We had just finished a particularly athletic round and were cuddled up, spent. Out of nowhere, she pipes up nervously: “Hey … I think I’m really falling for you. I don't want this to just be sex or games anymore. I want to really try being together.”

I froze. The words I had been longing to hear suddenly terrified me in that moment. My throat clenched up as a wave of panic crashed over me (yes, I’m well aware of how stupid this was in hindsight). After an agonizing pause, I managed to choke out: “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. This thing between us was only ever supposed to be fake. I don’t think of you that way.”

I could actually see her face crumble. She quickly mumbled “okay” and slid out of my bed, wrapping a sheet around herself to cover her dejection. I swear I heard muffled sobs through the wall once she was back in her guest room. I felt like a piece of shit.

The next few days were some of the most awkward, brutal tension I’ve ever experienced. She was now acting like a scorned woman just doing her job, no intimacy whatsoever. We could barely make eye contact.

It took seeing her so closed off, so cold, for me to realize how much I desperately missed her warmth, humor, friendship. How much I longed for the easy intimacy we once had, both emotional and physical. I tried a few times to apologize or explain myself, but she brushed me off — utterly walled off to protect herself.

After days of wrestling with my suppressed feelings, I realized that I was in love with this wonderful woman. Hiring her as a fake girlfriend was one of the best things I had ever done because it brought her into my life … and now I didn’t want to let her go. She was becoming my person, even if she had started out as a farce.

But here’s where I really need some impartial perspective — AITA for freezing up and rejecting her confession?

I didn’t meant to tank her feelings so callously. I think I just ... panicked in that moment. The idea of committing to a real relationship terrified me in ways I didn’t expect. My career keeps me constantly on the go, always jet-setting to the next thing. Could I really give a romance the time and energy it deserves right now?

Part of me also felt massively conflicted about the circumstances. I’m literally paying her to pretend to be my girlfriend as a sort of ongoing petty revenge. If I admitted I wanted to actually date her, wouldn't that blur consent lines in some messed up way? Like, is she just going along with it because she’s on the payroll?

I know these both sound like flimsy excuses, but they were very real fears racing through my mind in that moment. Fears that made me impulsively reject her, despite how utterly gone I was.

Now, days later, those same hangups don’t seem so insurmountable. Maybe she and I could make something work, travel schedules and all. And if she reciprocated feelings, it would be a starting point — not her just placating me for a check. We could rip up the old arrangement and start fresh.

But I haven’t confessed any of this to her yet out of gut-wrenching cowardice. She’s still giving me this cold, professional shoulder. I don’t know how to begin recanting my idiotic reaction and opening up about the REAL reasons I panicked — the commitment fears, the moral dilemma, all of it.

Part of me wonders if I even have the right to try and pursue things with her at this point? I absolutely shattered her feelings for my own hangups just days ago. AITA for potentially stringing her along further by trying to retroactively take it all back? Maybe I’ve missed my window and should just let this phase of my life be over before it gets even more painful and messy?

Ugh, I’m rambling now. The crux is — AITA for how I recklessly rejected her in that moment? Do I even have a right to try and make amends after that thunderous fumble? Or should I just take the L, chalk it up to collateral damage of being in the world’s most messy pseudo-relationship, and move on?

u/juryofone · 14h

YTA, but only because you handled the initial rejection in the worst way possible. Your reasons for hesitating are somewhat understandable. But you really dropped the ball in communicating that to her in the moment.

Instead of calmly explaining where your headspace was at, you just blurted out a kneejerk rejection that crushed her feelings. No wonder she went ice cold — that had to sting like hell! If you had taken a breath and talked it through with more nuance, maybe you could’ve reached an understanding.

The good news is, you’ve now realized how much you DO want this woman in your life as more than a pretend romance. I don’t think you’re an AH for having those feelings or wanting to pursue her again, provided you make a sincere, thoughtful effort to apologize for your tactless approach before.

My advice? Explain the real reasons you froze up, how torn you felt over everything, and make it clear you still have feelings. But lead with a heartfelt apology for how horribly you botched it at first. If she’s willing to give you one more chance after that, DO NOT blow it.

Reply to u/juryofone · 13h

I agree with this take. He’s not an AH for the situation, but majorly the AH for the WAY he handled rejecting her. That had to sting badly after putting herself out there. The mature thing is to own up to that and properly communicate where his head was at.

Reply to u/juryofone · 12h

Yeah, going straight for “I can’t do that, I don’t think of you that way” after she bared her soul was so harsh and unnecessary. He could have let her down wayyyy more gently if he was that conflicted about it all. She must’ve felt like a fool!

u/neutralpartier · 11h

NAH — I get that you panicked in the heat of the moment and why this whole situation is heavy with ethical quandaries. The reality is, you two started off pretending but real feelings developed, and that’s okay! It happens. The moral issue only remains if you knowingly took advantage of or manipulated her feelings while she was on your payroll. Since you seem just as confused as she was, I don’t think any lines were really crossed.

The way forward is to rip off the bandaid once and for all. If you have mutual feelings now, figure out if you want to date as equals. If not, it’s time to part ways amicably while you both still can. But don’t keep paying her while catching feels — THAT would make you an AH.

u/glasshalfempty · 10h

ESH ... look, you suck for how you handled rejecting her confession. That was really hurtful and avoidant no matter your internal struggles. She sucks for going into this thinking it was all pretend, catching real feelings, and expecting you to want to be serious too. You PAID her to be your fake GF and made that clear.

My suggestion is to have an honest discussion about whether you can BOTH separate the transactions from reality. If you’re both all-in on trying for real, great! But one of you is going to get burned if expectations don’t align. And please, for the love of god, stop paying her!

Reply to u/glasshalfempty · 9h

This is exactly what I was thinking too! Way too messy ethically to keep paying her as the lines blur between fantasy job and real romance. Either take the plunge and date properly or go separate ways for good.

Reply to u/glasshalfempty · 8h

Agree but like ... is this even real? How does someone end up hiring a fake girlfriend to make their former best friend jealous? That alone sounds like a bad romcom plot.

u/criticaloverthinker · 7h

I’m calling cap on this whole wild story. Childhood besties turned feuding enemies living in the same building? A fake girlfriend who moves in as part of an elaborate revenge plan? It’s all too unbelievable.

u/struggling-with-reddit · 6h

I’ll play along and rate, but no way is this post legit lol. Having a fake girlfriend you eventually catch feelings for while pranking your neighbor? What’s next, one of you is actually royalty or a secret millionaire? Too much happening here.

Reply to u/struggling-with-reddit · 5h

Hahaha I know right, the excessive details and backstory gave it away as creative writing practice or something. No judgment from me, it was an entertaining read at least!

u/struggling-with-reddit · 4h

Next thing you know, OP will be claiming he’s Michael Schumacher or something 😂

r/AmITheAsshole

u/veganGOAT · 8h

UPDATE — I’m the idiot who rejected then realized I loved my fake girlfriend … and she took me back!

When I made my initial post a bit over a month ago about this whole fake girlfriend situation, most of you understandably called it outrageously far-fetched.

Which, fair. How does someone actually end up hiring a woman to fake date them just to make their neighbor jealous? It does sound ripped straight from a Nicholas Sparks fever dream.

Well put on your straight jackets, because this ridiculous saga is 100% real. And I’ve got an update that’s even crazier than the original tale ...

After reading the feedback on my initial post (and getting a whole lot of shit from some friends too), it became crystal clear that I had to make things right. I put her through the emotional wringer by callously rejecting her in the moment, when her feelings were just as tangled up as mine were. I owed her a sincere apology and a proper explanation of why I froze — with no more deflections or excuses.

So I wrote her a long letter. I laid it all out there. How torn I felt about the ethical and emotional complexities of our arrangement. How her vulnerability awoke my own fears about commitment, my transient lifestyle, and whether I could realistically be the partner she deserved. Mostly, I repeatedly owned up to being a thoughtless prick who shattered her trust out of pure pathetic self-preservation.

But above all, I made one thing clear — despite my bumbling, I had fallen for her too. Completely and utterly. She had cracked through my defenses and healing her hurt became the only thing that mattered.

I ended the letter by owning up to the fact that she now held all the power. While she had moved into this arrangement under certain pretenses, I had violated that implied contract. The ball was entirely in her court now. I would abide by whatever decision she landed on — friendship, an amicable parting of ways, or taking the terrifying gamble of trying to make this the real deal.

When she emerged from her room the next morning, I could barely look at her. I was a sweaty, nauseated wreck, steeling myself for the worst. She sat down next to me in silence and unleashed the longest, most blistering dressing down of my life. How I had made her feel so small, so foolish, so painfully vulnerable. Words like “coward” and “asshole” were thrown around. But you know what phrase stung most?

“I wish you had told me all of this up front instead of dealing with it like a child. I could’ve understood where you were coming from.”

It was a dagger — she was absolutely right. My dumb automatic rejection utterly betrayed the openness and intimacy we had built. Still, she didn’t dismiss me entirely. She would need some time to think, but asked that I stand by for an answer.

The limbo period was … not fun.

After four excruciating days, she came to me again. This time, she was almost shy, like her old self. She told me she had thought it over extensively, and ultimately my explanation and full-hearted apology won her over. I may be an idiot, an asshole, and a bit of a mess (her words), but I was an honest idiot with a good heart under all the bravado. And that’s what had drawn her to me in the first place.

So with the understanding that we would both need to work on our communication skills and respective hang-ups, she was in. We would press the reset button altogether, end our old arrangement, and try to make this relationship happen for real — messy origins be damned.

That was exactly a month ago today, and things have never been better. Sure, we still lean into some harmless (and vaguely unhinged) pettiness with my former friend from time to time. Some habits are too fun to quit cold turkey. But ultimately, I’ve never been so grateful for the insane set of circumstances that brought this amazing woman into my life. We may have started as an acting exercise, but we took a leap together into something beautifully real.

And yeah, I still have to hear shit from literally everyone about how our romance origin story is the most unbelievable meet-cute of all time. But I’ve learned to lean into the absurdity. After all, what’s life without a little chaos and a perfect partner to share in the pandemonium?

Thanks to everyone who offered candid advice on my original post. You may have received an update sooner if not for all the people accusing me of faking it! All I can say is … this is my blissfully ridiculous reality now.

u/juryofone · 7h

Well hot damn, I have to hand it to you — this saga is even wilder than the original post let on! I went from being totally skeptical of the whole outrageous situation to being fully invested in this insane romance. Love that she put you through the wringer a bit before taking you back. You absolutely deserved that and more after treating her like you did.

But huge props to you for manning up with that apology and giving her the power to make the next move. That vulnerability and respect for her feelings despite your own doubts is what true partnership is all about. I have a feeling you two chaotic bastards are going to be just fine as a real couple now that all the crazy pretenses have been stripped away. Wishing you both nothing but more pandemonium and pettiness together!

u/neutralpartier · 7h

I’m officially obsessed with this love story. You went from hiring a woman off to punk your neighbor, to breaking her heart over catching feelings, to doing the MOST to grovel your way back into her good graces, to ACTUALLY SUCCEEDING. It’s romcom gold! I need this to get optioned for a movie immediately.

u/glasshalffull · 6h

As wild as this story has been from start to finish, this update has me straight up emotional! The groveling, the way you explained your fears, her roasting you for days before mercifully taking you back … my heart. Love that she cut straight through the bullshit by calling you an idiot AND acknowledging your good heart. That’s the ideal balance.

I’m so invested in this nonsense and need regular updates on how things progress from here. You better not blow it after all this chaos or I’ll be leading the charge to vandalize your apartment!

u/romanticempath · 5h

What a journey! To go from manufacturing a fake relationship purely for petty vengeance, to developing REAL emotional stakes, to breaking each other's hearts quite viscerally, to finding your way back together through sheer vulnerability? Incredible stuff.

I laughed, cried (a little, don’t judge), and cringed throughout this entire saga. Thank you for bringing us all along for the insane roller coaster. I wish nothing but ridiculous happiness for you and her moving forward!

u/fairytaledreamer · 4h

I’m sorry but I still can’t get over the fact that this is somehow a real series of events? You’re a madman and this is truly unhinged (but also incredible). How did ALL of this unfold before your 40s?

Romcoms have been put to bed. Welcome to 2024, where people actually hire fake GFs to get revenge on their scorned former friends, develop legit attachment issues, torpedo everything in a panic, grovel for redemption fit for cinematic history, and somehow STILL end up together in some sort of demented happily ever after!

All I can say is cherish the chaos you've manifested. I can’t wait to see what bonkers plotlines await the two you. Start recording everything for the biopic!

Reply to u/fairytaledreamer · 3h

“Cherish the chaos” is absolutely the perfect sign off for this update. I’m deceased at this whole wild drama, but also soooo invested! Cannot wait for the inevitable Netflix mini series. Thanks for the laughs, drama, and emotional whiplash!

r/offmychest

u/NotBritneySpears · 21h

My ex-bestie’s wedding to his obnoxious girlfriend was a nightmare … and so was their wedding night (unfortunately)

You’ll have to bear with me on this one, because I’m still reeling a bit from one of the most cringey, uncomfortable, and downright baffling weekends of my entire life. I need to get this off my chest before I have a full mental breakdown.

A couple years ago, I made a post venting about my former best friend’s new girlfriend at the time. For those who missed the saga, she was an insufferably loud woman who seemed to take immense pleasure in loudly narrating her sex life with my former friend right outside my apartment door. It was psychological warfare, plain and simple.

Well, I’m sure you can all see where this is going based on the title. Against all odds and reason, this woman and my ex-friend somehow stuck it out … until he put a ring on it last year. Which leads me to the first in a cascading series of mind-numbing events — receiving a wedding invitation from the happy couple!

Now, let’s be clear — I have not spoken to my former best friend in almost a decade at this point. Not since our cataclysmic falling out (a story for another day). We were thick as thieves until our bond was shattered beyond repair. For him to invite me to his wedding with the woman who crudely mocked their intimacy for my benefit was … certainly a choice.

On one hand, why on EARTH would you invite the person whose heart you deliberately stomped on so many years ago? It felt like a cruel joke, rubbing salt in an open wound that never fully healed. A reminder of their domestic bliss and my bitter ostracism.

Yet on the other hand, maybe there was a subconscious part of me that would have felt insulted if he didn’t invite me after so many shared years? As if he had utterly erased me from his life without a second thought? The thought gut punched me too in an admittedly unhealthy way.

Long story short, I RSVP’d yes … half out of morbid curiosity and half out of a deeply unwell desire to not get excluded from such a significant life event. In hindsight, a foolish decision that kicked off a horrifically uncomfortable series of events.

The wedding itself was … a lot. An over-the-top spectacle at an insanely expensive venue. My miserable self stuck out like a sore thumb surrounded by all the adoring couple’s friends and family. I sat through mushy vows reaffirming their “unlikely origin” in the “most unexpected yet fortuitous way” … while trying not to puke.

So yeah, sheer cringe start to finish. Little did I know the worst discomfort was yet to come!

In perhaps the most on-brand grand gesture of the entire weekend, the groom rented out an entire boutique hotel for all out-of-town guests to stay at after the reception. That way we could all keep the party going nearby before he whisked his new bride off to parts unknown on their honeymoon the next day.

Ever the gracious host with a penchant for the spectacle, he let wedding guests draw for their room assignments out of an actual top hat. I somehow managed to get seated right next to his parents who, while cordial enough, knew me as the ex-best friend responsible for so much fractured history.

But wait, there’s more! Wouldn’t you know, the universe is supremely messed up because I ended up with the room directly underneath the newlywed suite. Yes … I spent their wedding night listening to a live-streamed porn broadcast courtesy of the paper-thin walls and floors.

Dolphin sounds didn’t even BEGIN to cover the unholy noises raining down from above around 2am. I’m talking full-on screams of unbridled passion echoing off the walls at maximum volume. Mind you, this woman had become infamous for over-enunciating their coitus for my benefit previously. Now it was a frighteningly real-life rendition that no noise-cancelling headphones could drown out.

I finally had to flee my room to the lobby. I ended up crashing on one of the lobby couches until an employee politely asked me to leave around 6am. Disheveled, disoriented, and officially diagnosed with PTSD from the sounds I cannot unhear.

So yeah … not exactly a therapeutic reunion that could have allowed my ex-friend and I to bury the hatchet. If anything, this wedding was one massive “screw you” that opened up all the same unresolved wounds. I need about 20 years of intensive therapy to move on.

I also need to find a new place to live because I can’t bear returning to that cursed apartment building.

u/chronicgossiper · 18h

Dude, I think you need to get some serious perspective here. Your ex-friend getting married and going on a honeymoon has absolutely zero to do with you. That level of self-centeredness is off the charts.

Why in the world would this guy plan an entire wedding — one of the biggest days of his life — around secretly tormenting you again over ancient history? That makes no sense. He invited you as a polite gesture after years apart, probably hoping to start burying the hatchet. The room assignments were random by your own admission.

As for the … “noises” … look, they were on their wedding night. Maybe overenthusiastic, but 100% to be expected between newlyweds. It’s not some psychological ploy, just poor planning on their part for thin walls. You’re projecting like crazy if you think that was directed at you specifically.

At a certain point, you have to realize the universe doesn’t actually revolve around your grudges or history with this person. They’ve clearly moved on to live their best life. It’s on you to stop obsessing over them and do the same.

Reply to u/chronicgossiper · 16h

I agree, this is just pure paranoia from OP. No newly wedded couple is sitting around thinking “how can we sneakily stick it to your ex-best friend during our wedding festivities?” That’s deranged thinking.

They invited you to be polite, you drew an unlucky room assignment near their suite, and then biology happened on their wedding night. Hilarious and awkward coincidence? Yes. Intricately designed fuck you from the bride and groom? Come on now, that’s giving them way too much credit.

u/NotBritneySpears · 13h

Maybe you all have a point, and I am still holding onto way too much resentment and baggage from our falling out. My intention wasn’t to imply they orchestrated an elaborate sting operation around their wedding. More just a general sense that the universe has a funny way of reminding me about them at highly inconvenient times over the years.

Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 12h

Even that line of thinking is incredibly self-centered though. Why would random coincidences or them just … living their lives be the “universe’s way of reminding you” about your failed friendship? That makes it sound like they should perpetually be walking on eggshells and avoiding certain life events just because you can’t get over the past.

Look, it sucks that things fell apart so badly between you two. But they have clearly moved on, as you should too. This obsessive framing of their marriage as some universal affront to you is … not healthy, my dude.

u/nosyandproud · 10h

The wedding itself sounds like it was in poor taste for sure, so I can certainly understand feeling aggravated and triggered being there as the scorned former friend.

That said … you’re borrowing A LOT of trouble by assuming any of their private wedding night activities were purposely being broadcast to you specifically. Projection level 1000 there.

At the end of the day, these people have built a whole entire life and future together now that quite literally has nothing to do with you anymore. You looking for “signs” that they’re still fixated on you is just self-involvement. For your own mental health, you have to let go of whatever happened and see them as background characters in the story of your life now.

u/realitychecker · 7h

OP, you need to take a step back and realize that the sheer logistics involved in purposely torturing you at their wedding are just not plausible. Do you really think they were like:

“Alright honey, for our wedding night I was thinking we should make sure your former friend gets the room directly below ours! That way when we really get after it, he’ll be able to hear every excruciating moan and body smacking sound in haunting detail! That’ll show him for being your friend a decade ago! Mwahaha!”

Come on, mate. That’s delusional cartoon villain level scheming you’re attributing to them. Occam's Razor — they just wanted to consummate their marriage in privacy and didn’t account for the thin hotel walls. The world doesn’t actually revolve around your history with this!

Reply to u/realitychecker · 5h

Lmaooo the idea of them sitting around strategizing the most psychological warfare possible on their wedding night is killing me. “Yes honey, we simply MUST reenact scenes from our noisiest adult films for your ex-best friend’s terrible pleasure!”

u/buildingbridges

OP, it seems like you really miss having your friend in your life if I’m reading between the lines here. Getting invested to this level over random coincidences at his wedding doesn’t come from a place of hatred, but hurt and longing for that bond again.

My advice? Use this weekend as a wake-up call to stop obsessing, reflect on whatever caused your rift, and decide if you want to properly reconnect. If not, you need to rip that band-aid off for good and stop torturing yourself over what will never be again. Or the walls between you two will just get thinner and thinner ...

r/ask

u/amateurdetective · 15h

I think these juicy Reddit posts actually interconnect … but I need your help cracking the code

I think I’ve stumbled onto something wild here and I need the Reddit hive mind to help me piece this tangled web together. Are you ready for some batshit conspiracy-level connecting of barely-there dots? Too bad, I’m going in anyway.

So, over the past few years, I kept seeing these extremely juicy, dramatically-written posts pop up every few months that seemed … oddly interconnected despite being in different subreddits.

Hear me out:

First there was the unhinged post in r/offmychest from a guy ranting about his former best friend’s obnoxious new girlfriend. Dude was griping about how this woman would loudly recount the smutty details of her sex life with the ex-friend whenever she was in his general vicinity, seemingly just to mess with the OP. We’re talking legitimately disturbing stuff about feeling “psychologically tortured” by her oversharing.

Fast forward a few months and I stumble across a wild post in r/relationships from the perspective of this same “obnoxious” girlfriend! Except her story painted a whole different, unhinged picture — she was hired on FACEBOOK MARKETPLACE by the former friend to literally move in and fake date him as part of an ongoing revenge plot against the OP from the first post. She rapidly develops legitimate feelings for the guy and it becomes a messy will-they-won’t-they romcom situation.

But THEN there was a follow-up post from the fake boyfriend’s side in r/AmITheAsshole about him realizing he caught feelings too before nearly blowing it, followed by another saga-capping update about them deciding to pursue a real relationship against all odds and absurdity.

Are you seeing the parallels here? These three posters each gave one side of an absolute dumpster fire of a convoluted love triangle situation that seemingly intersected. And based on the intricate backstories, my crackpot theory is they all emanated from the same formerly tight friend group that experienced a bitter falling out.

The insane attention to detail, literary flair, and geometry of it all almost had me utterly convinced these were all fictionalized creative writing exercises posted separately across Reddit … but building on the same unhinged storylines each step of the way.

I’m utterly obsessed with mapping this all out into one cohesive narrative now. My working theory is something like this:

Some guy hired an actress to pose as his fake GF and torment his former friend as revenge for some past betrayal

The two fake partners rapidly caught real feelings amid the ruse, he panics and nearly torpedoes it

Meanwhile, the ex-best friend is losing his mind overhearing the fake girlfriend’s loud performances and comes to Reddit for advice, not realizing it’s all a ploy

After a saga of miscommunication, the fake boyfriend comes clean and the couple decide to actually date for real

Capping things off, the former friend is forced to attend their wedding where he’s subjected to one final night of unholy noises

Does it all track? Or have I completely unraveled the conspiracy and stumbled onto a drastically personal set of circumstances being workshopped on Reddit? If so, that’s some ludicrously elaborate storytelling!

I need to know if I’m onto something here or completely off my rocker. If the former, I’ll burn every last calorie mapping out a master record of events across all the posts. If the latter … someone needs to drop their juicy fanfic writing prompts because these were WILDLY entertaining reads.

Help me connect these dots or point me towards any other potentially linked tales! This has been a public service aneurysm brought to you by pure boredom.

u/scepeticbynature · 14h

Wow, you’ve gone full Sherlock Holmes with this. I’m dying at how insanely detailed your working theory is in tying together these random Reddit posts into one cohesive narrative. This is either a brilliant piece of performance art … or you need your meds adjusted, my friend.

Reply to u/scepticbynature · 12h

Hahaha exactly! The amount of time and brain power OP has devoted to mapping this out is beyond obsessive. I don’t know whether to applaud the commitment to the bit or get them professional help.

u/amateurdetective · 10h

I’m sorry, did you actually read through the posts in question? The intersecting pieces of random, elaborate backstory between all three distinct voices is way too specific and layered for it to be an accidental alignment. There are unambiguous throughlines about:

A pair of feuding former childhood best friends

One hiring a woman off Facebook to pose as his fake GF and torment the other as revenge

Said fake relationship descending into a very real emotional entanglement for both parties

The eventual fallout of the ex-friend having to bear witnessing the real couple’s wedding and chaos that followed

Like that’s such a bizarrely specific plot keeping consistent across three different users’ lenses! So you’re either pointing out the artistry of someone doing an incredibly elaborate creative writing exercise across multiple subs … or these people are just leading unbelievably unhinged lives. And part of me hopes it’s the latter? It’s too batshit crazy not to be true!

Reply to u/amateurdetective · 9h

Or, and hear me out … it’s all an internal dialogue you’re having with your numerous Reddit personalities to work out your own unresolved relationship issues. We’re all just incredibly intricate fragments of your aching psyche!

u/opinionatedtruther · 7h

Lmao you are both nuts, but I have to side with OP on this one. The chances of these being all interconnected fabricated stories is way too perfect to be an accident. All the tiny threads and recurring backstories/character details woven between wildly different subreddit posts? That’s not a coincidence.

I could buy it maybe being some extended Reddit fanfic experiment between a couple of redditors seeing who can craft more engaging characters and drama while world-building off each other’s plot threads. Like a weird form of collabing through the confined lens of Reddit posts. It would be pretty genius if so.

But for it to be entirely real with all the coinciding details scattered across entirely unrelated posts like that? I’m sorry, but there’s just no way. That’s beyond the scope of believability for me. OP may be bungling the conspiracy, but they’re onto something for sure!

u/amateurdetective · 6h

THANK YOU, someone gets it! And to answer your other theory … while I can’t 100% rule out some sort of viral Reddit fanfic experiment, I struggle to believe even the most creative writers would be capable of improvising THAT intricately interconnected of a storyline stream-of-consciousness style like that.

Like each voice and perspective they inhabit remains remarkably consistent across such wildly different contexts (relationship drama, life events, ethical debates, and updates). It would take incredible skill to stay in the headspaces of these distinct individuals and keep their personalities/plot orbits from tangling into an incomprehensible mess. While possible, it seems incredibly unlikely.

That’s what has me believing there’s a remarkable kernel of stranger-than-fiction truth at the heart of this whole saga being teased out piece-by-piece. Or again … I’ve finally been gaslit into being a tin foil hatter of beautiful Reddit fantasies. Either way I’m here for it!

Reply to u/amateurdetective · 3h

All I have to say is please touch some grass and post to r/creativewriting instead 🙄

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alley-cc · 5 months ago

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Plus size reader

Note: F!Reader, 18+ MDNI

After an unnecessarily long three months in the middle of fucking nowhere, Simon is just itching to get home. Back to his flat in Manchester. Back to solitude for five blissful weeks. But, before that he has to survive the trip home. Survive sitting in the airport with wailing children and disgruntled civilians. They're all in the same boat here. All tired, hungry and just want to get to their destination.

God, he needs a stiff drink.

People shuffle around him, finding their seats to wait in until the plane arrives. He's tempted to cash in a favour with Nik, it would probably get him home quicker.

He feels the eyes of a curious child two rows behind him burning into the back of his head. He hears the stressed voice of a mother fussing over her newborn baby seven seats across from him. He smells the pungent perfume that the elderly woman in front of him is wearing. To top it all off, the seat he'd found himself a home in would rival the rough terrain he had been sleeping on for the entirety of his mission.

Then you come along. A soft sweet-looking girl. Your hands clutching tightly onto the duffle bag strung across your shoulder. He watches your eyes dart around the waiting area, landing on the free seat beside him. Your teeth anxiously bite at your lip as you venture over to it. Shy thing, you are. Soft apologies fall from your lips whenever your body brushes against a fellow passenger.

You finally make eye contact with him. "Sorry, is this seat occupied?" you ask tentatively. Simon lets out a grunt in response causing your eyes to widen. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't see a bag....I didn't mean to assume....I'll find another spot....I..." the words from your lips sounding as sweet as honey.

"Sit." He orders. Your mouth snaps shut and cheeks blush a bashful red. You place your bag down on the floor, your blouse dipping down with your body. It gives him a front-seat view of your tits which sit so prettily in the black lace bra that holds them.

If he were a lesser man, he'd have reached out and felt them. You'd like that, he tells himself. You'd like the way he'd sit you on his lap, hands trailing the curves and valleys of your beautiful body. Letting you grind down against him with your full weight. Desperate girl. His lips sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck. He'd mark you up so you'd remember him for far longer than it would take for those marks to fade.

You manage to seat yourself into the small pokey chair. Good girl. Obedient girl. Thighs that he'd kill to sink his hands into are flush against his own. You wrap your arms around your stomach in an attempt to make yourself smaller. The words take up all the space you need sweetheart bounce around in his head but never make it out. Your ankles cross to hold your legs together. He'll have to teach you to keep them apart for him.

You offer him a smile, another thing he'd kill for. "Headed home?" You ask. Simon grunts in response causing a small frown to tug on your lips as you shift into a more comfortable position. "I just moved to Manchester. I think it's pretty." You tell him. Not as pretty as you'd look under me, on top of me, on your knees for me.

Silence settles between the two of you, from his peripheral he notices the way your fingers fidget. "Where are you sitting on the plane?" you pipe up. "23B" Simon huffs. "Oh, we're neighbours," you note with a quiet laugh.

Just his luck.

He wonders if you've got all your essentials tucked away in that duffle bag of yours. Because when the plane lands, you won't be headed back to your new place. You'll be headed to his.

_________________________________________________________

Hi, hello, hey!

Brain went blank and spat this out. I've been seeing a few like sitting next to Price or Ghost on an airplane artworks and I love love love. I'm unapologetically down bad for those silly little video game characters. Anyway, Stay hydrated and stay slay. Mwah x

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost cod #call of duty #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley cod #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #cod mwii #cod modern warfare

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lustlovehart · 2 months ago

Note

I LOVE TWST monster au. It so cool and interesting!!! I'm INLOVE

I don't know if your taking requests or not but if you are I NEED to know more about Vil. Like have he every try to seduce you?? Like make you kiss him or worse 😳.

Anyway have a goodnight or goodday

Warnings: NSFW, some canon to the au, some past drafts, GN! Bodied Reader, Possession/Obsession

Ahaha… Funny you say this, in the monster list, Vil’s entire snippet was centered around reader and him being freaks before I realized I should tone it down 💀

First, Non-Canon/Draft stuff! The dynamic between reader and Vil was basically just

( They were fighting and then they somehow ended up in bed while they screamed hate at each other. When they were done they realized they lowkey liked it. )

Essentially, Vil is the only one in the monster cast who has ever been intimate with reader. In my mind, MH!Reader still understood it was wrong, so you never go all the way with him. You think this arrangement is completely reasonable, considering of firm Vil is on not letting you kill him. You’re entirely convinced he hates you, so letting him feed off you to feel the self indulgent pleasure of his tongue, is a fine arrangement.

Unbeknownst to you, every time he finds himself in the bed with you, he can only clench his nails. He’s been starving this whole time… Why? Because, contrary to you thinking he’s sapping your energy away, he hasn’t consumed a single piece of your vitality. Neither, has he seen anyone else to quench that desire.

It’s pathetic, he’s losing the soft feeling of his pure skin, simply cause he can’t bear the idea of slowly killing you. But, he doesn’t wanna do this with anyone else now. The only one he wishes to taste is you.

… Truly, what have you done to this all famed incubus?

Fun fact! The Incubus Vil fic I have written is actually before I changed this part of his lore, sooo, there might be a small chunk in there where it’s implied you and Vil had a freak off ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

And now onto Canon! This one will be a little vague to avoid heavy spoilers, but, you’re basically right! Vil does attempt to seduce reader, and it works, but only slightly.

Unlike MH!Reader previously, in the current au, they have a bit more self control, so you notice his seduction, and the sweet smell that wafts the air, but through simple will power, you push through the temptation.

There are several times where you wonder if you should just go through with it, but then you remember the hoard of monsters who act as your second shadow, the two monster hunters who will no doubt shoot Vil at every possible chance, and the angel Vil has a strong hatred for. Yeah, probably not the best choice.

Honestly, it ticks off Vil, but also is what makes him continue pursuing you. It would be easier to sleep with other people if you stopped looking at him with those eyes.

Yet, you don’t, so it’ll never happen.

#monster!twst #askves #n/sfw #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #twst smut #Vil schoenheit smut

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decentwritings · 4 months ago

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Chapter 3

Summary: You’re unable to grasp the luck you have. You were raised to run from danger, to go the opposite direction of bad influences. So when you somehow find yourself right in the center of it, you discover that running wasn’t exactly what you were taught. It only took GhostFace and a pretty girl to remember that.

previous part <- -> next part

You manage to sneak off when the group disperses, jogging to your dorm to grab your shower essentials. The shower is long and refreshing, and super soapy because you believe you couldn't get rid of the horrible smell.

Once showered, you get dressed in some of your most comfortable clothes and lay back on your bed. You hope to catch a few hours of sleep before anyone realizes you're gone.

You shut your eyes, and it only feels like a second before you open them again. The sun is still up, and you roll over to check the time, groaning at the one hour of sleep. You decide it isn't enough, because it's not, and you roll back over, attempting another round of sleep.

Again, you aren't sure how long it's been when you open your eyes, and the sun is still up, though you can see its need to end the day as it sets slowly. You wake up this time because of a noise somewhere in the room. You rub the sleep from your eyes, sitting up slowly, scanning the room.

If it's GhostFace, could he at least give you the courtesy of killing you in your sleep? The urge to lie back down is heavy, but you fight it, figuring the group should see your presence at least once more today.

You take your phone off its charger and open your drawer full of junk. Your sister gave you pepper spray before your first day at Blackmore—nearly seven months ago. It's expired. But you're not sure if it's illegal to use expired pepper spray, so you pocket it anyway. You also grab the utility knife you took from your brother's pack-out gear when you helped him with a job one day. He had like ten, so you were sure he wouldn't miss one.

The knife is still sharp and has a little shine to it. You clip it to your waistband, then shut the drawer. With a sigh, you mentally prepare yourself for the day and head out of your dorm.

The halls are eerily empty, but you figure it must be exam day for most of the students. You don't bother questioning it anymore, walking down the hall as you catch up on the notifications on your phone.

Three messages from your mom, informing you of her day and one asking about yours. The last message is to call her when you get free time. You have another message from your sister, who gives you instructions on how to give your nephews (her dogs) their medication. Then you check the messages Danny has left you, which are way more than he usually sends.

Where are you?

Sam said you left

Answer your phone

If you don't call in the next hour and you're not dead, I'll kill you myself

Your cousin says the nicest things. You roll your eyes and click the phone button to call him. The phone doesn't even ring, and you hear Danny's voice instantly.

"Where are you?" He shouts over the phone and you have to pull the phone away from your ear from how loud he is.

"Good morning to you, too, dear cousin," you respond with an eye roll, exiting the dormitory. You shield your eyes from the sun, preparing yourself for a long walk to your car.

"Morning? It's nearly six o'clock," Danny informs you, and you glance at the clock on your phone. You hum, surprised; he's right. "Where the hell have you been? I called you five times."

You run across the street, avoiding cars coming down the road. You ignore a honk from one of them, raising a peace sign at the driver before walking off.

"Dude, I didn't sleep last night," you say, reminding the man with a huff. "I don't sleep, I get cranky. And me cranky is basically GhostFace without a mask," you shake your head.

The line is silent for a long minute, you check to make sure he's still on the line.

"That's not funny," Danny says eventually.

You shrug. "I wasn't trying to be," you mutter, glancing at the strangers waiting for the light to change beside you.

The whole being suspicious of everyone is becoming second nature really quickly. You just hope it doesn't turn into paranoia.

"Look, I'm heading over to pick up my car and then going to your place," you inform him, finally able to cross the street. You pass by a bodega and are really tempted to go in and get yourself a sandwich. With self control, you don't and continue your walk. "Relax. Tell your girlfriend to calm her–"

"Don't finish that sentence," Danny interrupts, voice firm.

You raise your hands in surrender, passing an alley after peeking in it for anything lurking. It's broad daylight but you never know, right?

Danny orders you to stay on the phone with him until you're at your car. You ramble about random things, and you can tell he's not listening with the constant "mmm-hmms" he gives you. You don't mind, finding it endearing of his worry for you.

You gasp at the sight of your car, finally earning his full attention.

"What?" Danny shouts, worried.

You practically skip over to your car, unlocking it as you do. "My baby," you sniffle, close to tears. "She's okay," you whisper, relieved.

The line goes silent again.

"You're an idiot."

You shrug, hopping into the driver's seat. You check in the back for any GhostFaces. When it's empty, you turn back and turn your car on.

"Alright," you rub your hands together, excited. "I'm heading to your place. Do I need to pick up snacks or something?"

"No. It's not some party," Danny sighs, and you can imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just go to Sam's, stay there. Don't leave. Understand?"

You nod, then pause. "Wait, I have a class at seven-thirty," you tell him and hear him sigh again. "Does that mean I won't be able to go?"

"Go to my apartment," he says, "Now." He demands, annoyed.

You raise your hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. Geez," you mutter. "Excuse me for worrying about my college education."

Danny tells you his shift ends in a couple of hours, to not embarrass yourself while with the Carpenters and their friends. You reassure him you will be nothing but a perfect guest. He doesn't comment on it and says his goodbye.

When you're at the red light, you catch a glimpse of someone in the corner of your eye. You recognize the boy as he heads down an alley, glancing at his surroundings. But this isn't the way you were; the way you were checking no one was following you. No. He was glancing around to make sure no one was watching him.

You forget for a moment you're driving, until you hear a honk behind you. You glare at the driver through your rearview mirror then look back, searching for Ethan. He's disappeared and you can't figure out how he vanished that quickly.

You shake it off, not wanting to jump to conclusions. Mindy offered a great possibility for the boy and you didn't believe it because...well, he is the shy and dorky roommate of Chad's. Which makes it the perfect cover.

Damn, Mindy's theories are contagious.

You find a great parking spot just a block over from your cousin's apartment building. You triple check to make sure your car is locked then head over to the building. The sun was beginning to set behind you and you begin to believe this day may end without any incidents.

After situating yourself at Danny's place, you go across the hall and knock on the Carpenter's door.

You see an eye through the peephole. You raise a brow. "If I were GhostFace, why would I knock?" You question, confused.

The door takes a while to open, you assume because of all the locks you hear needing to be unlocked.

Mindy appears behind the door a minute later. "Wow, you really have never seen a horror movie," she says, allowing you entry to the apartment. "A fake knock is horror movie 101."

You shake your head then shrug. "I don't see the appeal," you explain, greeting everyone briefly with a head nod. Tara offers you a smile and you can't control the smile that you return. "If I wanted to get scared, I'll just go to my sister's early in the morning. You wanna see horror? You should see her without makeup," you shiver at the thought.

Sam exits the kitchen, and you think; you think, you see her sigh in relief.

"Good, you're here," Sam says, and points a thumb over her shoulder. "We have pizza."

You nod, then pause when you hear noise occurring behind a closed door. You stare at the door then back at the group of friends. They don't seem at all fazed.

"So my knocking was concerning, but that isn't?" You question as you point at the closed door.

"Oh, that's Quinn," Chad explains, waving his hand dismissively. He enters the kitchen, leaving you with still no understanding.

Tara laughs at your expression, waving you over to join them. You notice Anika comfortable position on the couch, but don't question it. You follow Tara into the kitchen, taking a seat at the end of the table.

"She's...sex positive," Tara explains further. "She has a guy over almost every night."

You lean back to look at the closed door. The sounds practically echo throughout the apartment. You struggle to drown it out, but you try your best to as you return your attention to the table.

You do a double take, noticing a missing person. "Where's Ethan?"

"He's got a class," Chad answers, probably knowing his roommate's schedule.

You have to bite your tongue, wanting to tell them you do too but you decided not to go. Well, Danny basically told you not to go but you didn't plan on going anyway. You hated your Visual Literacy class with a passion.

"Eat," Tara slides the pizza box towards you.

You thank her, grabbing a slice. As you chew, you hear Chad scoot his chair closer to you.

"So, Y/N, right?" You nod, mouth still full. He smile then glances at Tara briefly. You aren't sure what that was about but don't question. "Tell us about yourself. For starters, why English?"

You swallow the food in your mouth. "Umm," you see the others staring at you, awaiting your response. "Well, I just need a degree. It's looking like you can't get a decent, well-paying job without a bachelor's so..." you shrug.

Chad hums. "Valid point," he comments. "Any hobbies? Do you play any sports? Do you even like sports? Ooh, do you like videos games?" He asks excitedly.

After swallowing again, you nod. "Yes, yes, yes and yes," you answer, unsure if he expected more than just the one word. And when he blinks, waiting for you to continue, you assume he does. "My current hobby is just fixing up my dad's old Toyota Chaser, still debating whether to sell it when I'm done or not."

"You're fixing a car?" Mindy leans over to ask, eyes squinting in confusion.

You chuckle and nod. "Yeah. My dad was a mechanic, so he taught me how to fix the basics," you shrug, taking another bite of your pizza. "Then I got tired of the basics, so we ended up learning how to add mods to cars. I just sold my old Subaru WRX—the most mods I've ever done on a car. She came out—" you let out a wolf whistle.

"Then why did you sell it?" Tara asks, the question clearly on everyone's mind.

You suddenly lose your appetite and set the rest of your pizza down on a napkin. Clearing your throat, you shrug. "Needed the cash. Where's your bathroom?" you ask, standing up to avoid more questions.

Sam furrows her brows. "Second door on your right," she answers gently.

You give two thumbs up and head in that direction. Once you're out of earshot, Chad looks at the group.

"Nice job, Tara," he says, shaking his head with a scoff. "You scared your crush."

Tara narrows her eyes at him. "It's not a crush."

"She'd have to actually interact with them for it to be anything," Mindy huffs, only to get a kick under the table. She winces and rubs her leg with a frown. "I'm just saying, you practically begged Anika to invite them to the party and you didn't even give them the time of day."

"At least we know you two have the same type," Chad quips, pointing between Mindy and Tara as he grabs another slice. Mindy giggles at his remark, the sisters' reactions more amusing than expected.

Tara hides her face in her hands, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, you're struggling to recompose yourself. Lately, you haven't had time to process what happened almost a month ago. The past couple of hours have been a rush of emotions, full of firsts and new friendships. You splash cold water on your face, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Tara's question about your car stirred up feelings you've tried to suppress, forcing you to confront something you've been avoiding. Your sister has been handling it better–sort of, taking her anniversary vacation a month early, while your brother picked up a huge job building a mansion for some millionaire in California. All of you have escaped your hometown—except your mother, who stayed behind, clinging to some connection to your father.

You take a deep breath, trying to push the thoughts away before anyone notices how long you've been in the bathroom.

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket and pull it out to see a message from Danny. He's letting you know he's leaving work and expects to arrive in about twenty minutes. He mentions wanting to grab something to eat before heading home. You reply, reassuring him that you're with the Carpenters and to be careful, before slipping the phone back into your pocket and exiting the bathroom.

Anika waves at you from the couch, but her smile falters when she sees your expression. "You alright?" she asks, patting the spot next to her.

You sit down beside her with a sigh, your eyes flicking toward the muted TV. The news is on, and it strikes you that this is the first time in years you've actually paid attention to a newscaster. "It's been a crazy couple of hours," you say with a shrug. "I also think this is the longest I've been outside the dorm in a while. Feels weird. Is New York always this packed?" you ask, adding a hint of playfulness to steer her away from worrying.

Anika shoots you a knowing look but doesn't push. You can tell she plans to ask later—and you know you'll have to face it then.

Your attention is suddenly drawn to Quinn's room. Her screams grow louder, more intense than before. You share a glance with Anika, and without exchanging words, you both know what the other is thinking. But neither of you says anything, turning your attention back to the TV, both silently choosing to stay quiet for now.

The TV is muted, but you find yourself reading the captions to keep your mind busy. Then, your phone vibrates again. This time, Danny's calling. You excuse yourself and stand to answer.

Before you can say anything, he shouts, "Get out, quick!" You pull the phone away from your ear, startled by his volume. "He's in the apartment! Tell Sam—"

A sudden, heavy thump against the apartment door makes you freeze. Instinctively, you turn toward the sound as the others rush out to join you. Another thud shakes the door, rattling the locks and hinges with each blow.

The door rattles violently, each strike louder than the last. You freeze for a second, unsure of where to move first, before Sam takes charge. You want to hide, run but you're frozen where you stand.

"Everyone get back!" she commands, pulling you behind her. Her eyes dart to the nearest weapons—a lamp, a chair—anything within reach. Tara's fingers curl around your arm, tugging you back toward the windows.

The door splinters as the locks give way, and a large figure forces his way into the apartment. Your heart pounds in your chest as Sam rushes forward, grabbing the nearest heavy object—a bat leaning against the wall—and swings without hesitation. Your hand itches to reach for the knife on your waist but you think its just a pin compared to the knife GhostFace has.

You're suddenly aware of the grip on your arm, and its Tara's, who's staring at her sister in worry. It was obvious to you that Sam took the big sister role seriously, but to see how serious she takes it makes you summon that bravado from hours ago. You thought it was all used up but apparently its still there.

You grab your knife and flick it open, rushing forward to help Sam. The adrenaline surges through your veins, pushing you forward. Sam swings the bat again, but the intruder anticipates it this time, blocking it with his forearm before shoving her back.

Sam shoves you hard, her voice full of urgency. "Run!"

Your instinct is to stay and fight, but Tara's grip on your arm tightens as she yanks you backward. Before you can argue or even think, Chad's hand locks around Tara's wrist, dragging both of you toward the hallway.

The echo of Anika's scream cuts through the chaos, freezing your blood. You whip around, heart pounding in your chest. They aren't behind you.

Without thinking, you come to a dead stop, yanking your arm free from Tara's grip.

"Y/N, wait!" Tara's voice is frantic, but you're already sprinting back up the stairs, adrenaline pumping through your veins, faster than you thought possible. Your legs burn, but you don't stop.

You hear Tara calling your name, but it's drowned out by the roar in your ears. Reaching the apartment again, you jump over the broken door, breathing hard, and your eyes dart around. The first room you burst into freezes you in your tracks.

Quinn is there. She lies motionless, her body lifeless, and the sight makes your stomach churn. Your mind screams at you to stop, but it only pushes you forward. You force your gaze away, barreling through the hallway.

You spot GhostFace pushing against a bedroom door. Sam and the others have to be on the other side.

Instinct kicks in.

Your eyes land on a chair near the wall, and without hesitation, you grab it. Charging forward, you swing with everything you have. The impact sends GhostFace stumbling back, crashing to the ground. His knife skitters across the floor, spinning out of reach.

GhostFace stumbles, trying to regain his footing, and you seize the chance. You dive for his knife, fingers just brushing the handle when he yanks at your ankle, pulling you down hard. You crash to the floor in front of him, and as he swings his fist, you barely manage to block it with your arm.

"Shy and dorky, my ass," you mutter through gritted teeth, seeing the surprise in his eyes through the mask.

He freezes for a moment, just enough for you to shove him off and scramble to your feet. Your body aches from the fall, but adrenaline pushes you on. Your eyes dart toward the window, and you see Danny rushing Sam and an injured Mindy into his apartment. His gaze locks with yours, filled with a plea—run.

But you can't. Not now. Not when everything you've suspected has just been confirmed.

GhostFace, however, isn't done. While you were distracted, he regains his knife, standing with that signature menacing tilt of his head, glaring down at you.

You throw your hands up in frustration. "What? I don't know what follows!" you shout, exasperated.

He doesn't respond—not verbally, at least. Instead, he lunges, slashing at you with his knife. You dodge one strike, but the second is too quick. The blade slices through your abdomen, sending a wave of pain shooting through you.

You let out a sharp breath, staggering back and clutching your wound, teeth clenched as blood seeps between your fingers. The pain is intense, but you force yourself to stay upright, glaring back at him with defiance despite the throbbing ache.

You hate to admit it, but you're glad your brother got you into anime.

"Come on, Ethan," you taunt, shifting your weight cautiously to the left as he mirrors your movements to the right. "End this now. Take the mask off."

Either he's stubborn or you're wrong, because instead of revealing himself, he lunges again, knife sparkling in the dim light. You try to evade the slashes, but your patience runs thin, and it makes you sloppy. As you attempt to block the knife from reaching your chest, it lodges into the palm of your hand instead. A scream rips from your throat, raw and uncontrollable, as pain radiates through your body.

He twists the blade, and you whimper, barely keeping your feet. The world around you blurs as adrenaline and pain mix, but then you hear it—a shout from down the hall.

"Police!"

You want to call out to the officer, to warn him, but your voice fails you. Instead, summoning every ounce of strength left in you, you push him away. He stumbles back, momentarily off balance, and when he regains his composure, you catch a glimpse of what you think is a glare beneath the mask.

In a surprising move, he dashes past you, and just as the realization hits, you feel your legs buckle. Darkness creeps in, and your vision fades as you collapse, everything going quiet.

#jenna ortega #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #sam carpenter #scream vi #scream 6 #jenna ortega x reader #the unwitting hero

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chxrryhansen · 1 year ago

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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s Concepts 6/50

Character; Rafe Cameron

Kink; Non con (DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT)

Dialogue; “Look at the mess you made.”

Requested by; Anon <333

As always, this blog contains 18+ content only, your media consumption is your own responsibility, THIS IS A DARK FIC!!! Please be warned, this fic is NON CONSENSUAL. Read at your own risk

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

You stirred in the silky bed sheets, yawning as you woke from your nap, attempting to raising your hands to wipe away the crust.

Except they wouldn’t move.

You shot up, slowly becoming more aware of your surroundings as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. Each of your wrists were cuffed to opposing ends of a king size bed. The cuffs restraining you jingled as you attempted to pull your hands free.

How could this have possibly happened?

Your memory jogged as you recalled being at a party, hosted by a random boy you hadn’t even met. A party you didn’t want to attend in the first place but of course caved at your best friend’s pleads and bribery to pay for your drinks for the night- and the next few.

You remembered being blackout drunk, no longer caring about manners you had crawled into the first bed you found. Falling into a deep sleep.

As your eyes adjusted you noticed a tall male frame standing at your left. Due to the darkness of the room you couldn’t quite make out the face of the mysterious figure.

“Wh-Who are you?” you trembled, your body shaking in fear.

“Spread your legs.” the male commands, ignoring your question, his voice stern but oddly familiar. Your breathing picks up as you begin to panic, your hands flailing as you begin to scream “Help! H-“ He rushes forwards, his large hand smacking over your mouth essentially silencing your cries.

“Scream like that again and i- i swear to god i’ll fuckin’ kill you.” he growled.

“You got that?” he pressured once again, you nodded your head at a rapid pace, believing his threat to be true.

His hand fell from your mouth as he straddled you from above, his thick hands pulling up your dress and pushing your panties to the side. He groaned at the sight of your pretty pussy, soaked for him already and you didn’t realise it.

Before you knew it, the mystery man had removed his boxers and began to palm his cock in his hand. His thick shaft leading up to a swollen pink tip. His balls big and full of cum, ready to empty inside you.

Without warning he pressed his bulbous tip against your hole and thrust forcefully into you. Bottoming out in a single thrust as you began to scream at the top of your lungs.

His hand once again covered your mouth, only this time his other hand pinched your nose alongside it. Oxygen left your lungs faster than you imagined, your body thrashed, legs kicking, arms flailing. Still impailed on his fat cock, your pussy clenched in desperation of breath making him let out a long moan as he smothered you.

Just as you felt your body still and you begin to roll back he removed his grasp. You gasped desperate to fill your lungs with as much oxygen as you could get.

You were cut off as he began to thrust his length into you, your walls sucking him in. “You’re fuckin’ soaked, always knew you were a whore.” he sneered as you cried out. You begged him to stop, telling him he didn’t need to do this and that you promised not to tell anybody which only seemed to entice him further.

Suddenly you felt a knot in your stomach begin to tighten “No no no.” you choked, desperate to not cum all over your rapists cock.

You couldn’t hold in your moans of pleasure as you squirted, your juices coating his cock and his abs. “F-fuck look at the mess you made, dirty fuckin’ girl” he grunted.

His hips stuttered as his warm seed began to fill you up, hot ropes of cum spurted into your cunt, leaking out due to the amount of sperm he emptied inside of you. You quivered and shook around his length, coming down from your forced high.

He leaned over you, flicking on the light switch beside his bed.

You closed your eyes as the bright light made them sting, slowly blinking as your pupils shrunk down and your vision became less blurry.

Your face fell further as you recognised the figure infront of you. Your squirt still dripping down his body and his cum still leaking out of your own.

“Cmon’ don’t look so shocked you slut, it was only a matter of time before i found you.” Rafe chuckled as he watched your eyes begin to fill up with tears once again. How did he find you?

How does he always fucking find you.

#chxrrys concepts #rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey fic #drew starkey smut #drew starkey x reader #dark! rafe cameron #rafe x reader #dark rafe cameron x reader #rafe smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey

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moriitis · 26 days ago

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Any other proxy headcanons you got?

Including the main three. Brian, Tim, Toby, Kate.

MASTERLIST.

MENTIONS OF THIS HC.

Obviously in terms of rank, the main group are the highest. It goes; - Proxies - Killers

Proxies are the most trained individuals when it comes to tracking, stalking, hunting and survival while out on their own. Slender essentially trusts knows that these main four are the most useful out of everyone else. The best part about it is that these are probably the most basic looking people who do work under his wing, so they are really the only ones tasked with venturing out into civilisation. They are mostly tasked with hiring other recruits, eliminating targets that could pose as a threat and to essentially cover up the tracks of the other killers. If you have these four rock up suddenly in your town or state, you know something is about to go down.

Although, it's pretty rare for them to travel in the pack. Most the time they are on their own, as it's easier that way. These guys are good at acting nonchalant, becoming your friend and slipping themselves into your social group and life.

I feel like Toby is the best at turning up in your life, that ray of sunshine you need when it feels as if everything is spiralling. Along with Brian, but most the time he does the stalking and following you around whereas Toby is more hands on at actually hanging out with you. Brian knows what meds you are on, what hospital you went to, your parents, anything that could pose a threat to the mission.

Kate and Tim on the other hand are mostly scouting the area for anymore protentional recruits. I wouldn't see the pair sleeping together or hanging around together. Toby would sleep in his car, Tim or Brian maybe a hotel room whereas Kate would rough it out and sleep somewhere remote like an abandoned building.

Obviously I also have this headcanon where I believe if a Proxy steps out of line, they essentially have to be 're-programmed.' So, if Toby starts (let's say) develops feelings or feels a little too connected to normal life or memories start flooding back of his life before OR even, he feels as if he doesn't want to do this anymore; the proxy in question will basically disappear.

They'll come back as a literal machine, praising Slender, praising everything and all the work he has done. The proxy won't think, won't feel, they have a task and that's to recruit or kill.

But that only happens in instances where the Proxy in question fucks up or steps out of line. Essentially, they are all brainwashed and Slender is the fucking puppeteer.

Occasionally they'll all hang out, in a cabin or some waffle house or something. They just attempt to act normal, Tim and Brian are better at it whereas at first for Toby and Kate, it took some time for them to adjust to it all.

#creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #ticci toby #toby rogers #creepypasta headcanons #headcanons #ticci toby headcanons #proxy headcanons #proxies #proxy creepypasta

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queenmuzz · 1 month ago

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A snippet set before Tearstone Island

“Professsser!” Harding’s voice is both loud and yet nearly incomprehensible through her slur. He pastes a polite smile on his face as he quickly assesses her condition as completely plastered. He can’t blame her, as this is the night before they intend to kill gods, emotions are running high.

“Sorry Lace.” Taash apologizes to the dwarf, carrying her on their back, piggyback, almost like a child “I didn’t expect the Rivain Rum to hit you so hard. Barely affects me.”

“Thaat’s because you’re soooooo taaaaall and strooooong,” Harding croons, nuzzling their neck and shoulder, and causing the Adari face to darken in embarrassment.

“I’m taking you to bed.” They look up at Emmrich, “To sleep.” They quickly clarify. He nods, knowing that Taash's intentions are pure. Still, he does pity Harding, who will probably wake up with a horrible hangover, and gently places his hand on her head, letting the healing magic course from him to her.

“That should allow you to sleep it off comfortably,” he says as she closes her eyes and smiles, “If you wake up with more discomfort, I can provide a potion.”

“Gee thanks, Professor,” Harding murmurs with genuine appreciation, her eyes semi closed in relief, “You are sooo patient and kind with all of us, I bet that’s why Rook loves you so much.” He freezes, and barely keeps his expression of shock under wraps. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

His blood runs cold in his veins. Did she overhear their argument? Did Zea tell her he had essentially broken things off between them, albeit as gently as he possibly could?

“Pardon?”

“I’m sorry I ever doubted you and her being together. You make an adorable couple… almost as adorable as ussss…” She trails off to rest her head on Taash’s shoulder.

“Okayyyy. Time for bed. Before you say something we BOTH regret. Thanks Professor.”

He risked a single question, “Taash, did you see Rook on your way back?”

“Oh yeah. I think she was heading towards the dining room a while back. Lucanis is with Neve, so I assume she was making something to eat.” They look over their shoulder at the now half asleep dwarf. “Or to raid the wine cellar.”

He nods his thanks, trying to keep calm. Zea has never been one to over indulge on alcohol, but he worries about her emotional state right now. He needs to find her, attempt to apologise before its too late…

#dragon age the veilguard #veilguard spoilers #emmrich volkarin #emmrich x rook #emmrook #Spoiler: He doesn't get there in time #but not for the reasons you think #Also I do not hold harding's reservation about the emmrook relationship against her #as she's more concerned about Emmrich than Rook #the age gap is not even the most important concern to her

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sleeplessdreamer14 · 9 months ago

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𝕬𝖍, 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕱𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝕶𝖎𝖑𝖑

𝔣𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔪: what we do in the shadows

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: you’re a half-blood vampire and you take your first victim.

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤: canon typical themes, brief cathartic violence, (implied) attempted sa, minor character death, blo0d (obviously)

𝔞/𝔫: the ending may be a bit rushed I just really wanted to post this already

“I was bitten, I believe…” you began, pausing for a moment to do some math in your head, wiggling one of your feet as you sat on the couch. “Two months ago. And y’know, in terms of vampirism, being a half-blood has its perks.” you continued with a shrug.

The scene cuts to you sitting in your bedroom in the light of the sun, completely unharmed. And your bed wasn’t a coffin, but took a similar shape. You gave the coffin a try once when you were first turned, but you couldn’t really sleep. Another scene showed you snacking on a Kit-Kat while reading.

“I can still eat human food, though I am garlic intolerant now, which is kind of a bummer. But that’s not even my biggest problem.”

The camera shows footage of you unscrewing the cap on a liter bottle containing a thick, dark burgundy liquid before pouring it into a glass.

“My vampire half still needs blood, like once or twice a week. Found that out the hard way.”

During your first week of being a vampire, you got very lightheaded and fainted in the middle of the hall since you hadn’t drank any blood since turning. Since you could digest human food, you could go a bit longer than most vampires without blood, but you still needed it.

“Straight up, I’m not a fan. Drinking it is one thing, draining it from the body is another.” you admitted, shaking your head and shrugging. “I ju- I can’t. I’ve tried, and I can’t.”

Thankfully, Lazlo had recently taken a victim that day so they gathered enough spare blood out of the chap to give to you.

The cameras cut to an interview with Lazlo and Nadja, sitting side by side as per usual.

“We don’t really mind saving blood for them sometimes,” Nadja said. “Most of our victims, we don’t even finish all the way.”

The footage cuts to a short scene of Nadja holding up a still bleeding victim by the shirt whilst Guillermo holds the aforementioned liter bottle with a funnel in the top to collect blood, grimacing and trying to just focus on keeping the funnel in the bottle.

“Yes, but we do believe it’s about time they learn to attain blood for themself.” Lazlo said, and Nadja nodded in agreement. “The only thing I’ve seen them drain was a goose. And even after that, they insisted on burying it.”

“Even though it bit the shit out of them.” Nadja added. “In the wild, baby animals rely on their mothers for sustenance for the first few months of their lives before learning to hunt for themselves. (Name) is kind of like our weird little pup.”

You knew they were right. You had been a vampire for two months, and you still had yet to take a human victim. The problem was that you would always overthink it. For one thing, you didn’t want to kill an innocent person, but he cause of all the ‘what if’s, you couldn’t really detect anyone really deserving of such a gruesome and sudden death. Curse this big heart of yours. Plus it was New York, and Staten Island for that matter. Who knows where these people have been and what’s running through their veins?

But half-blood or not, learning to hunt is essential.

Anyway, you were walking through the streets one night with the others since they had recently found a good hunting ground and didn’t want to leave you alone in the house. Nandor suggested that maybe one of them would have the general disposition of a goose and you could drain them. You weren’t too sure about that, but thanked him anyway.

Now, one of the perks of your vampire half was an enhanced sense of hearing, and because of this, you overheard a conversation from inside one of the apartments,

“I’m should really go now… I can’t stand up.”

That made you stop. If your blood wasn’t already running cold, it just got colder. Guillermo seemed to notice you falling behind. “(Name), are you still coming?”

“Uh, yeah, um..” you hesitated, glancing between them and the apartment, bouncing on your feet slightly. “I’ll uh.. I’ll meet you guys there, okay? I’ll just be a minute.”

Before they could respond, you turned into a bat and flew up towards wherever the voice came from. A knot began to form in your tiny stomach as you dreaded what you might find, and when you came up to the window, your suspicions were confirmed as you peered into the dimly lit room. That was all you needed to bare your teeth and shift back into your human form, rearing your foot back to kick the window open.

It seemed the universe noticed you needed incentive and answered.

Nadja wiped some excess blood from her jaw and licked her lips, humming contently. It had been only been about twenty minutes since you went off on your own, and she hoped you were alright, wondering what you could have been doing. As if on cue, she heard a familiar squeaking and the sound of little wings flapping towards them.

“Nadja! Nadja Nadja Na-”

POOF

“Nadja!” you exclaimed joyfully after landing on your feet and regaining your composure. All three vampires and one human turned to face your direction, and were surprised to see you with a beaming smile on your blood stained face. “I did it!” you exclaimed with excitement, panting slightly.

Realization dawned on the pod of vampires, and Nadja’s smile grew to match your own.

“All by yourself?” “Yes!!”

Laughter filled the air as Nadja pulled you in for a short hug. You sighed in exhilaration, “Call em crazy but I kinda wanna do it again.”

“We have plenty of time before the sun rises again,” Lazlo said, smiling proudly at you with a hand around your shoulders as you walked with them. “Plenty of time to get your practice in.”

Yeah, you were gonna do just like fine.

#wwdits x reader #wwdits platonic #wwdits #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows x reader #nadja of antipaxos #lazlo cravensworth #guillermo de la cruz #my writing #my stuff #nandor the relentless

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sweetwolfcupcake · 1 month ago

Text

Swords in the Court: Peace at Last

Secret Garden

Yandere Don John x Reader

Word count: 5k+

Part 2

Warning: Violence, blood, masturbation, misogyny and a hint of religious rigidity (the fic is set in the medieval era, what else do you expect?)

Note: This story is set in a fictionalised historical setting. Though there are clear inspirations drawn from the real world and history, this tale in no way tries to explain, change or state any historical, political, communal, geographical or religious 'facts'. Kindly treat this short-series as it is, a fiction

Unedited and poor attempt at medieval-world description

He is swinging.

Muffled sounds, yelling, groaning, hooves, metal....

He is laid somewhere.

Cool cloth on his face, and a faint fragrance he fails to grasp, despite being almost within his reach.

Cool, warm–it burns!

John gasps awake, feeling a particular area of his torso burning.

There are muffled voices around him. He blinks, trying to clear his vision, but it dims again.

The next time John wakes up, he is startled by a jerk. Through his limited vision, he can make out two people struggling on the floor. Grunting, he sits up, despite his arms shaking and his vision unclear, but his eyes manage to focus every now and then.

—--

You know you should not be visiting Lord John’s chamber at this unholy hour. But the royal healer had given you a vial of essential medicine that you forgot to administer. That is the excuse you have managed to come up with as you near his chamber with a water-filled vial.

Why would you do that?

You should be leaving for the capital by now.

But the Earl and Duke requested that you stay for the feast, which has most of the residents distracted at the moment. Your steps slow down when you do not see a single guard outside his chamber.

Something does not feel right.

You rush inside his chamber just in time to find a maid holding a dagger. Before you know it, you pounce on her. She gasps, caught off guard and the weapon drops while the world around you tilts as you crash on the floor with her.

“Who sent you?” You ask, breathlessly trying to pin her, but she elbows you on your side, making you wheeze.

Perhaps fate truly is yours this night. By pure chance, you manage to hold her ankle as she tries to flee, it earns you a haphazard kick on your chin that could have been a lot worse had you not been holding her ankle. But it makes your teeth sink into your lower lip. You do not even register the metallic tang on your tongue as you pull her down with all the strength you can gather.

“You are going to be found out and beheaded anyway but—bitch!”

Your attempt to negotiate is met with another hard shove. It makes you cry out and lose your hold on her before she scrambles towards the dagger and raises back on her feet. You follow after her, but she already has the dagger in her hold. She is now attacking a sat-up John, who groans, trying to keep the blade away.

It happens so fast. You are not thinking of the consequences, but you get hold of the first heavy item that you find and swing across her face. It turns out to be an elaborate candle stand—heavy, intricate, now marred with the girl’s blood who has fallen, bleeding on the floor.

“Are you alright?” You rush to a groaning John whose blood tricks through his palm. The struggle has opened his wound.

“Guards! GUARDS!!”

—-----

There is stillness in the chamber, except for the hushed whispers. The ‘maid’ is dead, and while you recover from the shock of having killed somebody, your mind is flooded with questions.

“This is a grave misstep in our honoured man’s safety and it shall be investigated.” the Earl tries to assure.

“Until then…”

“Until then me and Borachio shall be in this chamber with John,” Conrade speaks up.

“He’s right, we cannot give the snakes another opportunity,” Borachio adds.

“Lord Juan must rest. He has already done so much, gone through—”

“I am well, my Lord. Sleeping had almost cost me my life.”

Whether it is the herbs mixed with pain or an ambush of emotions, it feels as if his voice has gained a layer of gruffness as he cuts off the Duke

“I would like some peace for now.”

“S-sure, My Lord, the knights shall be guarding your chamber every hour of the day and the night from now on.”

With that, the Earl begins to urge everyone to exit the chamber, leaving behind only his two most trusted friends. You follow them out as well.

“My Lady…”

Your steps cease and for the first time in the night after what has transpired, you look into Don John’s eyes. You are yet to come to terms with the fact that you have indeed killed someone. But his eyes seem to have the most alluring shade of brown, especially under the candlelight. The rest of the people have left, leaving only four of you in the chamber.

“I cannot thank you enough…You have risked your life to save mine. I have no clue how to return this priceless favour.”

You did not save his life for a favour. You were expecting nothing at all, you still are not.

“I expect nothing in return, My Lord. I acted on reflexes and by God’s grace, you are unharmed.

“Seems like I have cheated death too many times now.” His lips curve up in a cynical but faint smile before he nods “You have been exceptionally kind and generous to me. I shall never forget it.”

You try searching for anything other than the pure gratitude and admiration you see in his eyes. You can find nothing else.

“You are our honoured guest, I was doing my duty.”

He saved me once, I am simply returning the favour

You manage to give an appropriate response despite your mind’s state and with a nod, you greet him good night and exit the chamber. Once outside, you feel like you can finally breathe.

—---

The rest of the two days pass in peace—two days. That is how long Lord John can wait before he insists on riding his horse again, against the royal physician's advice. By now, a letter from the capital has arrived, revealing that the Emperor of Spain has officially extended his support to the Kingdom. George has been captured and taken to the capital, and you deem the King of France no fool.

Peace reigns for now.

The journey back is slower, but at least there is no hovering threat of war. Back in the palace, the wedding preparations have taken full swing.

“You had me on the edge for whole four days, five days, if we count all.” Maddie is by your side as soon as you enter the palace, while a grand welcome is prepared for the commander, and Lord Juan who volunteered and risked his life in the battle.

“I am well, as you can see. Lord John though…By now you must have heard what has transpired.”

Maddie nods and squeezes your shoulder “Everybody here speaks of your bravery.”

“I didn’t want—” Your throat closes in as you vacantly stare at the crowd cheering for the men entering the palace gates or horses “ I didn’t want to…”

“Hush, I know, I know. Everybody knows you have the Queen’s support.”

You understand that nothing is permanent here.

“But, I don’t understand, what were you doing there in his chamber at that time? There was a feast, right?”

Your friend’s question makes your thoughts still for a moment and by pure coincidence, Lord John rides through the gates, the cheerful uproar heightens but his eyes rise to meet yours as you stand along with your friend, waiting from above.

“He’s looking at us,” Maddie whispers.

You dare to think that there’s something akin to a smile in his eyes.

“I know.”

You reply before dropping your gaze and greeting him with a curtsy, subtle enough not to garner attention, but obvious in your movements for him.

—---

Ever since the battle, every waking moment, the image flashes behind John’s eyes—the man, wearing the Kingdom’s armour attacking him. His blade was crimson, and the helmet protected his identity. He was so close, and yet, due to the brutality of warfare and general chaos, John could not quite catch any sign of identification.

But, does he need to?

“I do not understand, you have been quiet since the attack, don’t you want to find out?” Borachio whispers into his ears as they sit to bear witness to the beheadings—a punishment for treason.

The name of the next rebel baron is announced as soon as the fourth head rolls down to the ground.

“Do not appear distracted, Borachio. This is a very important event.” John’s tone gives away nothing, surprising his friend.

“John—”

“We shall not speak of it now.” His jaw clenches with his words and Borachio is wise enough not to poke further.

Throughout his life, John has been playing a delicate dance with death. First, as a boy, when fortune has been on his side and perhaps death, slightly merciful—why else would he survive then?

But as he grew into a man, he learnt that death always followed him, especially as long as he was in the palace—a glaring threat to the Crown Prince’s claim to the throne. He never released how much the weight of the title of ‘bastard’ held until his first brush with death, the first time his steps faltered and he almost fell into the waiting abyss.

There have been times when he was ready to embrace death—for so long, John the Bastard deliberately danced on the risky side of death, waiting, just waiting to fall finally and be free. But once he understood the potential he had and the power his sword and mind wielded—the freedom that came with being a bastard—his steps slowed and turned more graceful. He wished to live. Ever since, he has not been dancing with death with open arms, he has been cheating death, bidding his time.

But Don Juan, the recognised bastard knows that death shall take him when it decides it must. He will live. He will live to rise.

He has always been ambitious, but never truly eyed the throne. It was too much. He hated the court, after all. And yet he is a threat. Every breath he takes is poison to his own so-called family. They fear him and paint him as a villain. John knows he is no noble-hearted hero. But he is not a villain either, not yet at least.

He has been a fool, though. He thought that once the Crown was secured, they would let him be. His mentor has never been wrong, the old man told him. But he should have known better. He had enough.

John’s steely gaze remains fixed on the ongoing beheadings.

Oh how fragile the human life is, one forceful swing and everything turns into a ‘has been’. No sky cries, no leaf flutters and the world moves as it always has. Great deaths make no difference. Great lives do.

John’s eyes turn to the Crown Prince, sitting with his brothers.

They feared that a child would bring chaos to their empire, and marked him as an enemy ever since his first breath into this world, while all John has ever done is to avoid conflict. As a boy, he stood no chance against them anyway, and he respected his mother and her choices. But the world he is a part of is not run by kindness. She did not believe in revenge, she did not like brutality. But she is gone now.

He thought choosing tact, winning the Emperor’s favour could earn him what he deserved, a noble title—he could then retire far away from the court, maybe take a wife—he never wanted the throne, he wanted a regal title, he wished to have many dreamed of, rising from nothing, they could keep the crown. And yet they stabbed him from the back— even when he fought for the Empire’s favour.

But this will be the last time he allows it. He has had enough.

They always feared that the Empire’s bastard son, the true firstborn would be the cause of their downfall.

So be it.

John turns his eyes back on the executioner as he swings the weapon, cutting off another head—clean and precise, with crimson all over.

He shall turn all their fears into reality.

John vows to himself, watching the head roll down.

Picking up the previously untouched cup, he gestures to a servant to fill it with wine.

He shall give them a reason to fear him. They have watered the poison tree for too long, now it bears the fruits, and they must consume it. Must face the consequences of their deeds.

—------

You do not understand its necessity. Why does your presence matter here? You stand behind the Queen and the King, tense and barely keeping your tears from showing. Every death reminds you of the night.

There was blood on the candlestand. It was heavy, carved with gold, maybe—you don’t remember. But you remember how you hit the girl with all your strength, bringing it down to the side of her head. There was so much blood—-on the floor, on the side of her disfigured face, from the gash on her head. Her hair was matted with blood, her eyes were cold and open and—

A hand on your elbow makes you flinch.

“The Queen,” Maddie whispers, nudging you.

You look at the Queen waiting with her cup of wine.

“Forgive me, Your Grace.” With quick, precise movements, you refill her cup. She looks away but gestures for you to bend and come close. You oblige immediately.

“It is important to stay, George has not been beheaded yet. So chin up and watch. Get used to it if you wish to stay in the court and rise.”

You stiffen and gulp but nod anyway

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The world is no kind place, you know this much and you have witnessed enough to know how brutal the court can be.

Straightening up, you square your shoulders and steel your heart as you watch George being brought for execution. He is given no privilege of any speech before his death. He has not even confessed to his sin, he does not need to. With his baleful eyes, he glares at the Queen and the King. His lips move as he keeps his eyes lacking any fear or remorse until the executioner swings the axe and his head rolls down, joining the rest on the ground.

You let out a slow quivering breath. This is the first time you have witnessed so many executions together. The Queen ordered that you must be present, so here you are, watching headless bodies fall.

But you know deep down, that if you cannot stand to witness brutality, you will never be able to rise, have a place in the court. Is it not what you want? What have you always wanted?

Your gaze flickers towards Lord John, sitting at a distance, drinking wine while he watches with the nonchalance that you know only comes with a certain proximity to death and bloodshed. Perhaps he has witnessed many.

Perhaps that is why he is where he is, at the edge of Dukedom. You conclude, looking away. You want power, so you must play safe now. Lord John seems like a dangerous temptation in flesh and bones.

—------

You feel ashamed, but not half as much as you should. Is it not a sin? Touching yourself at the thought of another man? Regardless of the fact that you have no husband or lover, yet. You lay in your bed, finally able to relax. There is nothing to worry about other than the upcoming feast in celebration of victory, a masque shall be hosted as well. As the Lady-in-Waiting, you have the privilege to choose from some of the finest materials to be sewn together. But none shall be finer than the royal family, of course.

Should you not be wondering about the dress? You need to oversee the food arrangements along with the Earl of Casterwood and, of course, make sure that there is plenty of wine incoming.

You do worry about it, you have been, but you as if seamlessly, your thoughts have shifted to the enigmatic Bastard Prince— Lord John. You admit that throughout your years in the court, you have shielded yourself with the Queen’s shadow, being close to her, resisting temptation. Any fool would think you are religious, but you are not, none of them are. But you know that it is impossible without marriage if you have to climb the ranks. You are a woman, after all.

You admit that apart from a brief, fiery affair with a squire around your age, that sizzled down as quickly as it had burst in flames, no man has made your head turn. He was too eager to bury himself between your legs and you could not have done that to yourself. You never intended to marry him anyway. You never allowed him to go beyond your breasts, and he was sloppy even then. A boy. Yes, you were no more than fourteen, but even then you knew you did not want him, you wanted more.

But Lord John has managed to turn your head and keep your gaze. You are afraid to admit that he is, indeed an attractive man and not just objectively—there are so many of them in the court already. But you find him handsome in every way you know attraction works for you. He is the only man you are afraid can disarm and seduce you before you know it and it has kept you on edge, you want to keep your distance.

In the darkness of the night though, you cannot help but remember him as you saw him at Katherine's. The body tanned to a beautiful bronze—almost golden, and the way his sheen of sweat made him glow under filtering sun rays. His raven hair is always brushed to perfection, but that day, it was tousled so perfectly, strands falling on his forehead, as if fueling the fire that simmers just below the surface of his deep, dark eyes—the perfect brown, under the sun, it was dipped in gold. His nose almost matches his eyes in sharpness, the straight defined line that shapes his handsome face to allure even the most indifferent eyes. But despite the sharpness and subdued fire in his eyes, there is the subtlety of something—maybe the worldly experience, but it almost seems…soft.

Yet, he possesses a body that seems crafted by some divine force. But you know, it is crafted by skill, war and scars. You saw him that day, half-naked, the pants so loose it almost exposed him to your eyes. Something about the deep, straight scar on his stomach makes him twice more attractive.

You remember the glimpse of his back against the supple, thighs, the way he bent as his hips rocked in rhythm, it was just a glimpse but that was enough to know. Your hand finds comfort between your legs and you grasp your inner thigh, imagining it to be his hand. They are big, you have noticed that too, but even with the fleeting, formal touches, they have been gentle with you. Tonight, you allow yourself the delusion of a fairytale, imagining him to be a loyal, gentle lover, even though you know that it is far from the truth, none of the men from any royal court can be loyal. You can bet from the stories and whispers you have heard, rarely a man is gentle or cares about anything beyond his own pleasure. You envision the loosely hung pants around his lower waist, the strings in his hold as you rub yourself, slow and firm at first, imagining his thumb on your pearl.

That day, you heard his laughter—honeyed, deep and echoing in that chamber, and his moans that rang with Kathrine’s. There was an elegant sweetness to the raw masculine sounds. You gasp, feeling the pleasure building, remembering the way his body glowed, the way he sauntered towards you, the mirth in his eyes along with the dying heat of pleasure. You imagine his lips on your breasts, his hips along with yours, moving in rhythm as you gasp, biting your lips to suppress the sounds of pleasure as you come undone, your slick covering your fingertips.

Warmth flushes in your cheeks and the rest of your body when you open your eyes, floating down from the pleasure with laboured breaths, you sigh and stare vacantly at the ceiling, feeling cold and ashamed of touching yourself to the thought of a man whose intentions are still veiled.

For now, Lord John is an enigma you are strangely drawn to, but you have enough confidence in yourself to not make any life-altering mistakes. Folks like you do not get second chances.

—-----

A few days before the great feast when the engagement and the Spanish alliance are to be declared, the King decides to host a grand game to amuse himself and his guests. The Empire’s fleet shall touch the Kingdom’s coasts in a few more nights—until then, the festivities keep on their swing.

“Does it taste better than the last?”

Maddie and you have chosen a table that offers an unrestricted view of the ground only a few feet below.

“I like the tarts more.” You disagree, taking another tart onto your plate.

“Look at that, how the energy has shifted now. People are cheering for the Princess, the king, the Queen. These days have been so tensed, I couldn’t sleep, worrying about you.”

You smile and hold Madeline’s hand across the table. “It’s done now. The Pretender is dead, France would not dare to take a head-on conflict with Spain by our side, and all we need to worry is about our role in a wedding that shall go down in history.”

“By God’s grace, may this be true.” She squeezes your hand and you return the gesture keenly.

She glances at the ongoing sports when something catches her eye. “Look at that stallion. Isn’t it magnificent?”

You follow her gaze to find Lord John riding his infamous stallion, Igor. You have heard whispers about Igor’s speed, power, and rebellious nature. His hooves will kick anyone but Lord John. Under the autumn sun, Lord John rides his beloved jet-black stallion, its mane dancing with the wind. The simple, white and beige attire suits him. He appears regal with a rugged edge, the kind of man they would write and sing ballads about.

You return your gaze to your plate as soon as you realise that you have been staring longer than you should. You have a world before you. A simple mistake can dismantle everything—all you have earned and built. Besides, the Queen is cautious about him, and so are you.

“What? Don’t you find him handsome? The dashing half-brother of the Crown Prince who led a battle against a looming threat and won?”

You let out a chuckle and meet your friend’s gaze “Write a ballad about him.”

Madeline shrugs “I might, you know me. But there has to be a lady love for that. He wins every battle just to return to her. Someone he burns for.”

“How romantic.” You roll your eyes and drink from your cup “Shall we find him a bride then?”

Maddie tilts her head and scoffs “I think he already has a name in mind.”

You scoff and shake your head when she continues to stare at you, “Oh come on, why on earth would you think that?”

“Mhm.” She smirks and takes a sip from her cup as well “It is subtle but keen eyes can never miss,”

“You’re thinking too far Maddie. He is pleasant for the sight and certainly knows how to treat a lady but…there’s nothing more.”

You clarify, smoothening the non-existent lines on your dress while you try not to focus on your heating cheeks and think about his piercing gaze. You watch as his sword cuts through hanging targets. You never bothered to investigate what they are, but they seem heavy and are constantly moving due to being hanged from the high branches and clean cuts are impressive. Most men there struggle while he makes it seem as easy as cutting butter.

You scoff and look away. Men and their silly games. The court is the real game. You pretend not to hear how the young girls and women swoon over him, but they try not to be obvious. After all, he is the Bastard Prince, his fortunes are uncertain.

“How much do you think he knows of the court?” You put the question out of whim.

“Looking at where he is, he must be good,” Madeline replies.

“Hm, a man who knows the battlefield and the court…” you trail off, leaning closer before continuing “You think he desires the throne, Maddie?”

Madeline sighs and leans away, resting her back “Who doesn’t?”

There, your answer. The one reason you were looking for is to ground yourself. Don John is not the man you should harbour any feelings for. This response is the water you need to kill the simmering fire.

—----

You find yourself in the chapel on your knees. You have been visiting regularly these days, paying attention, searching for a word, some explanation, assurance.

You did not want to kill that girl, it was a desperate move in the heat of the moment. You know it, God knows this is true but she haunts you, that night haunts you in your dreams. The silence in the chapel is soothing to you, a little place you can hide away from side-eyes, whispers and scoffs.

Your fingers intertwine in a praying position as you wait for an answer—a thought, an explanation, an epiphany? Anything. You are faltering, you know you are. Are your ambitions impossible? Is it a sign that you stop? You have not even begun.

“Show me a sign, Father. Lead me out of this darkness.”

“May the light shine upon us all.”

You flinch and turn around, only to find Lord John sitting on one of the benches, head slightly bowed, eyes closed and fingers crossed in prayer. But they open in no time and the hypnotic gaze meets yours.

“My Lord?” You raise and greet him.

“Please.” He smiles, and it makes your heart flutter in all the ways you would not want it to. “John will be fine, I don’t mind.” He shifts, making space for you to sit. “Do me the honour, my Lady.”

You want to say that in the traditional sense, you are no lady either. You are safe as long as the Queen has power, or you have her favour. Instead, you smile, slightly confused but walk towards him anyway to sit beside him.

“Forgive me,” He begins after a moment of pause.

“Forgive you? You rode all the way to the battlefield, fought a battle that was not even yours, risked everything—-”

“But you saved my life. And I feel I have not thanked you enough.” He finishes.

The setting sun casts perfect rays over the glass windows, which are painted with intricacies, and some of the light falls on the side of his face. He almost seems…harmless and sweet. But you would not fall for that. You are not one of those sheltered, privileged court maidens, trying to find fairytales in real life like beautiful fools.

Maybe it’s not their fault. Deep down, you know you do resent them. You are not the most enchanting rosy-cheeked maiden, nor do you have an aristocratic surname to make up for it. You have nothing but your wit and knowledge, and you hold on to them like the lifelines they are.

“I was doing my duty, My Lord.”

His smile conveys more than simple politeness, but he turns to look ahead before you can read him.

“Good, because I thought you were repaying the favour. I saved your face that day at Katherine’s and so you saved my life.”

Remembering that day, you had slightly shrugged off the garbs of courtly mannerisms. You had been as direct as you could to him, and perhaps, he had been honest to you.

“You said you want ‘everything’ that day.”

He smiles but keeps his eyes on the alter ahead “I still do.”

“And what does ‘everything’ mean? Don’t you have everything you could possibly ask for?”

“Are you afraid?”

“Of you?” You scoff, though deep down, there might be a seedling of truth to it “No, My Lord.”

“Good, fear hinders growth in this world. So does guilt, and plain kindness. You have come so far, I understand how it must feel, to receive disapproving stares, thinly veiled threats and reminders that you do not belong here. I would know.”

You have been staring at the altar as well, the candles’ steady glow has something hypnotic about it. But his words make you turn to him. You can only imagine the amount of pain he had been put through being a bastard, living right under the same roof as his half-brothers and their mother, a reminder of the Emperor’s infidelity.

“I can only imagine the conflict and pain you might have faced growing up.” You mean it, you cannot possibly fathom his pain.

“There, and the snakes will have you…” He clicks his fingers and turns to you. “...just like that.”

You frown, confused.

“You wish to rise, don’t you? People like us know that we are meant for greater things but we don’t have an easy path.”

You cannot deny that, but choose to respond with silence.

“Whatever happened that night, you did to save my life. I know you feel guilty. But allow me to give you this piece of advice. This will not be the last time your hands have someone else’s blood on them if you make up your mind to rise in court. How do you think Empires are made?”

“I do not wish to rule.”

John raises an eyebrow “Everybody wants to rule the world. It’s only a matter of chance and time.” He turns to meet your gaze

“So your ‘everything’ encompasses a lot.”

His smile is cryptic this time “I have everything I could possibly ask for, you said it yourself, My lady.” There’s a sharpness in his gaze, the simmering fire you had first seen, just below the surface.

“Then I am happy for you.”

“And you, My Lady. Do you have everything you could possibly want? Would you dare to eyes a higher seat? Something more than the court here could offer you?”

You frown, unable to read him this time “I…I don’t think I understand what you suggest my Lord.”

He turns to the alter again “I think you would do excellent in the Spanish court.”

“As the Princess’ Lady-in-Waiting?”

He is silent for a moment before he makes his intention clear “As my partner. We can empathise with each other and are familiar with the conflicts we face. Besides, you could evade the sorry fate of marrying a fat old man and have all your potential wasted being a nurse.”

“Are you…Are you offering me to be your mistress?”

What else can it be? John is an ambitious man and he would choose a worthy ally through marriage. Despite your best efforts, it stings you as you gulp a lump down your throat.

“I find you fitting and your company quite pleasing. You have ambition and potential for court politics, while the heart to never judge someone by their birth.”

“You ask me to be your mistress, right at the chapel and try to make it sound like you are taking vows.” You can barely keep your voice from cracking as you raise, struggling to keep your tears from showing.

Why must it hurt you far deeper than it has to? More than it is supposed to?

“If your sharp and knowing eyes could read even an ounce of me, My Lord, “ you grit out “Then you you would know, I am no whore.”

With that, you give him a courteous bow and march out of the place, no longer trusting your voice or your eyes.

—-----

You manage to hold back till you are back in your room, but as soon as you shut the door, the tears flow. You are not sobbing—-that can be counted as slightly dramatic for your standards. You simply are hurt.

What were you even thinking?

John is an ambitious man, standing on the edge of everything he has built from the ground, at the very doorstep of the life he probably had envisioned. Dukedom is a surety after his heroic victory at the battle. Of course, he will seek a strong alliance with a powerful family through marriage.

Why would he choose you? A nobody. Someone with nothing to offer.

He has, royal blood running in his veins after all. Perhaps he considers that he is doing you the honour by offering the position of his mistress.

The thought fills you with anger. Surely, he has never led you on. Whatever silly attraction you have developed for the half-prince is purely your doing, your fault.

But no more of it. You wanted answers, God gave you one. You have something to keep yourself grounded. You must not falter now.

****

#soft yandere #yandere don john #yandere don john x reader #don juan x reader #soft dark don john #keanuverse #yandere don juan #don john x reader #keanuverse community

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velvet4510 · 2 months ago

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People seem to think that when Erik tells Charles on the plane that “Raven was … we were … I could see why she meant so much to you”, it’s somehow an implication that Erik and Raven were sleeping together.

But I don’t.

Why would he say “I could see why she meant so much to you” to her brother if they’d been sleeping together? If Charles was Raven’s ex, then it would’ve made sense, but no, Charles is Raven’s brother - and thus sleeping with her would never enable Erik to “see why” Charles cared for her.

Also, if you go along with the headcanon that Charles and Erik were sleeping together during First Class, it makes even less sense to assume that’s what Erik is insinuating - “I know we used to sleep together and now I get why you love your sister because I slept with her too!” Huh???

So yeah, that is very obviously not what Erik is trying to imply here.

So what is Erik actually implying?

Well, let’s consider what he’s responding to. Charles just asked “how was she?” He’s inquiring about Raven’s wellbeing back in November 1963, thirteen months after the Cuba incident, when Erik last saw her before he left for Dallas. Erik’s first response to that question was that she was “strong, driven, loyal,” essentially explaining Raven’s personality, traits that Charles already knew about. Charles’ emphasis on “was” when he repeats the question makes it undoubtedly clear that he wants to know if Raven was all right, physically and emotionally. Erik understands Charles better than anyone; he definitely gets what Charles wants to know.

But … all Erik can say is “she was…” before he trails off. He is hesitant to tell Charles about Raven’s wellbeing at the time. As if he knows Charles wouldn’t like the answer.

He then tweaks it to “We were…” The shift from “she” to “we” means he’s about to share both of their emotional wellbeings at the time. Why would he include his own? Because they were feeling/going through the same thing.

I think they both were still, even a year later, quite haunted by what happened on the beach and thinking about Charles - they must’ve found out that he was crippled. Either Emma discovered it with her telepathy or Raven discovered it by sneaking into the hospital in disguise.

So while Charles might’ve misunderstood and thought Erik was insinuating he was involved with Raven, in truth Erik just didn’t know how to say that he and Raven were NOT ok because they missed Charles so much and were mortified that he’d been so badly hurt and probably assumed that he hated them which is why they didn’t dare try to face him again before JFK.

Erik saw how much Raven still cared about her brother, and about all the Brotherhood and all the mutants they were helping. He witnessed her best and worst qualities, and so he came to see what Charles saw in her; hence his comment. He could see why her brother loved her so much, because he also developed a brotherly affection for her.

Also later on in the phone booth, Erik’s comment to Raven “it’s been a long time since we were this close” sounds like a romantic statement by itself, but when you put it in context, it’s really not. Erik has been in solitary confinement for 10 years and still adjusting to finally being free again. So it’s been a long time since he was physically close to ANYONE, let alone Raven, and it’s still so jarring that he can’t help but comment. Plus he knows she’s mad at him for trying to kill her so he says something tender in an honestly pathetic attempt to let her know he doesn’t actually hate her or want her dead. When she understandably isn’t having it, he cuts the crap and tells her the truth about the Sentinels. It’s really one of the most unromantic scenes in the series.

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leth-writes · 6 months ago

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yandere Aemond Targaryen x reader

warnings: discussions of sex and violence!

So building off of the idea of a reader who’s a servant to Aemond. But, you’ve been working with another family, trying to overthrow the Targaryens and install new leaders onto the iron throne. You’ve pretended for years to be meek and less intelligent than you actually are, all in an attempt to get close enough to discover his weakness.

In this version of the story, you’re a lot more receptive to Aemond’s advances, being more willing to have a short fling. Maybe you even fake a demure demeanor, pretending to be shy, maybe even pretending to be a virgin just to entrap him even further. You’re blushing and asking him to teach you what to do, all the while you have a long-term partner at home, just waiting for you to return. Sure, it feels bad cheating on the love of your life, but at least you’re doing something for your kingdom.

This goes on for at least a couple of months, more likely even a year or two, all the while Aemond is slowly falling in love.

He’s revealing his deepest, darkest secrets and you’re pretending to care but then going straight to your servant’s quarters and sending a letter right away detailing the whole conversation.

He’s taking you on long walks throughout the gardens, trying to get a feel for your passions and hobbies, and you’re just glad the facade is working. All you care about is achieving your goal and making it out alive.

As he becomes more and more possessive, however, you begin to have the inkling that maybe you’ve made a mistake, maybe you shouldn’t have been the one to undertake this mission.

He relieves you of your duties, making it so that you can spend practically every moment of every day with him.

Maybe you even start to develop feelings, especially after the two of you are intimate for the first time. He’s hot enough to justify sleeping together for you, even if you aren’t in love just yet. Still, you develop a sense of fondness for him.

He begins following you and sending other servants to record everything you do. This is how he first becomes aware of your habit of sending letters. He intercepts one you’ve sent to your partner, and is convinced you’re essentially cheating on him.

So he resolves to find your partner and… deal with them.

In the meantime you notice him being even more possessive; he isn’t even letting you leave to sleep in your room. You’re basically sharing his living quarters, locked in whenever he’s busy. Still, you convince one of your fellow servants to let you go send a letter.

He’s also a lot more… rough with you when the two of you are intimate.

You chalk this up to the growing sense of possession he has, but in reality it’s just him thinking about how he’s been unintentionally humiliated; who could be so great you care more about them than him, a prince of the most powerful family in the kingdom? He could kill you for this offense, but he finds himself certain he would miss you too much, so he resolves to cut you off from the outside world.

Next time you send a letter, he follows it with Vhagar. When it finds its way to a known insurrectionist compound, he knows you’ve been lying to him. He has Vhagar torch the whole place, paying particular attention to killing your partner, and brings along their head as a souvenir.

You’re just lying in his bed, reading a novel, relaxing by candle light, when he barges in.

The first thing you notice is the sickly sweet smell following him, then you see the ash, then you see the charred remains of your partner’s horrified face.

You scream and you cry and you rage and you pound against his chest, but he’s completely silent, face absent of his constant smirk for practically the first time since you first met him.

That night, he’s the roughest he’s ever been, and he goes for hours until you’re absolutely incoherent.

Your neck looks like you’ve been mauled, face slack and mind completely empty. When you wake up, you’re chained in the corner, only a pillow in front of you.

He makes you sleep on the floor and stay in that corner until he knows he can trust you, and maybe a little while after that; after all, you had almost made a fool of a prince.

#yandere aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #yandere aemond x reader #aemond x reader #lethwrites

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haloinnit · 29 days ago

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Batfamily AU Idea-

Hi! I suck at writing so it would be cool if someone made this a reality but-

Do you ever listen to music that gives you an idea for a scenario and or AU for one of your interests? Well, a while back I was listening to Sleep Well by CG5. It's a Poppy Playtime song but it got me thinking, "Hey, what if the batkids were ghosts? What if they died as Robin, some entity is manipulating them into blaming Bruce, and they try to get the new Robin to either stay away from Bruce or join them?"

So essentially, the first three Robins, Dick, Jason, and Tim die in some way shape or form as Robin.

Dick - I have two ideas for him. The Court of Owls takes him and attempts to turn him into a Talon, but it fails, leading to his death. OR Slade kidnaps him to turn him into Renegade, but the training is too much for him, and he meets his demise.

Jason - Obvious. He was killed by the Joker but nobody punched the universe so he was never revived instead becoming a vengeful spirit.

Tim - Joker Jr incident gone totally wrong. Either the torture was too much on his body, and he didn't make it, or the torture was too much for his mind, and he, well, unalived himself.

Entity - Now this could be something completely made up or an actual character but essentially, it manipulates the ghosts, making them vengeful against Bruce. They see the new Robin, Damian, and are instantly trying to get him to either join them or see that Batman is the reason for their deaths.

Now, this may be original it may not be. If it's not, shout out to the original person! This is open for suggestions and I'll take whatever criticism you throw at me. Hell, you can give head canons and edit this however you want! Go crazy!

#Batfamily #Batfamily au #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #damian wayne #writers on tumblr #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #fanfic

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muneca-lemon-steppa · 1 year ago

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Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 3

Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader

Words: 4,990, Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Sexism, Arguing, Man trying to get with reader.

A/N: AAAHHHH PART 3?!!? Guys this is so much fun for me and I'm so glad you guys are having fun too. Is it weird that I feel like we are doing this together? Also guys just to warn you... we are getting a little angsty,,, a little violent... So if you are not into it, comment and I will give you the general plot of this chapter if it become too much! Anyway please enjoy, love you guys so much! And if I forgot to add you to the taglist I am so sorry! Just lemme know and I'll amend it! And if you need to see the other parts, click the tag with the title of the series, and it should have all the parts together! Ok I’m done!

The home of Alfie Solomons was the quintessential diorama of an old man's bachelor pad. Despite the anxious and angsty attempts by his elderly maid Sarah, the home still carried the air of a man who not only preferred to be left alone, but also had no plans of adding anyone into his inner sanctum. There was paper and documents strewn about, half read books piled by his favorite chair, a hosting bar cart that was looking more ancient than him, and a massive dog making his home on the floor in front of the roaring fire. Alfie silently thanked Sarah for her efforts. Sarah was the best housekeeper he could have ever asked for, she was essentially silent, and did not scold him for the ever present animal pen he kept. Then only things she asked for was to be paid on time, for her Sabbath to be uninterrupted, and to be warned ahead of time if there was to be company. Luckily, he never had to concern her with the last item.

With a grunt he landed on his favorite chair, studying the unused love seat and the matching chair to his that sat across from him. It was a set that was meant to host, that was meant to have visitors and entertain. He had no idea why he bought them, they looked exactly as they did when he bought them three years ago. Untouched. And yet he couldn't help but imagine you sitting so prettily on the chair beside him. With every inhale he could smell the lingering scent of you on his jacket lapel. Clean, like plain soap and fresh air. A kiss of lavender oil that washed over him as you flipped your hair out of your face. He could see so clearly you laughing at his jokes, pouring out tea for you and him, rubbing Cyrils face and giggling at Alfie's gruffness. He could see you darning a small sock...

With a groan Alfie rubbed the visions out of his eyes like a dream. Because that's what it was isn't it? A stupid stupid dream. You were so... fresh and sweet and... frustrating and loud and obnoxious and such a know it all and... beautiful and kind and smart and...

Alfie huffed and got up to beg for sleep in his room, but his head on the pillow only ran through these reveries even more. You were much to young. 10 years his junior at least. You were pure and kind, and he was a bad man. It was an unequal yoke to carry. He had killed people in the war and at home. He had manipulated and schemed to get this. And you deserved more. You deserved a good man, a softer man. Someone who lived a quiet life and could give you a life above board, where you never had to look over your shoulder. Someone who was gentle and wouldn't argue with you, would just treat you like the Queen of Sheba. That is what you deserved. Not some old gangster with a bad back and dozens of men plotting his demise. With a sigh he resolved his promise. He would take care of you as long as you let him. Protect you from all the mess and nonsense of this job, and let you be the girl you are. And when it was time to let you go... he'd let you go. He could protect you and honor you ask long as you'd let him, but when the right man came along, he’d let you leave, knowing that you were safe. And with a sigh he rolled over, letting himself sleep for a few hours, his mind slipping off into a world where you maybe chose him, and made that other chair your favorite.

Across Camden you had just finished explaining to your mother that your very kind boss had just brought you home after a late night in the office. You had to assure her that you were safe and that he was very respectable, that no danger was present. Though the constant worrying and fussing irritated you sometimes, she was a good woman, a good mother, who just wanted the best for her oldest child.

Your mother and father got married incredibly young, and were forced to become acquainted with the world and it’s imbalances even earlier. Where you still got to be young and childless and educated, your mother at your age had already had you, and was working in the family tailors shop full time. The day you realized your mother could scarcely write her name, you heard your mother sobbing to your father late in the evening. It was then that you resolved to do your best in everything, making sure your mothers sacrifices weren’t in vain. And if it took a little white lie to keep her from having a heart attack? Well… it would be worth it.

“Ah I just don’t know darling, that seems awfully forward don’t you think? I don’t even remember your father being alone with me ever until our wedding night? Are we sure he is a good man? Do you have anything with you in your purse darling?”

“Mama I promise you everything is fine. I think his insistence in NOT letting me walk home is evidence enough yes?”

Your mother fiddled with the end of her long braid, a habit indicating her anxiety, a motion you know well, “Mmm I suppose… but darling I just worry. Young women now… very very independent and it is good but… oh I just don’t want you to be taken advantage of darling. Will you take a weapon or something with you?”

You laughed, and maybe you shouldn’t laugh at your own mother. But… oh it is your mother!!! The sweet woman that she was! Who refused to go to sleep without a candle, and forbid your father from cleaning his gun around her, and dropped many a plate due to loud noises… what does she know about a weapon!! “Mama what weapon?! Shall I bring a hand gun to work? Mama none of us know how to use a gun, except Papa and Eli! I’m ok I promise! My boss is not a dangerous man!”

From her place in the kitchen cabinet you heard her speak, “Oh hush! Of course not a gun!! You are absolutely ridiculous. No just take this pocket knife ok? Oh please don’t look so disturbed! It is in good condition and your father got it for me when he would have to work late at the tailors! Will just put it in your work bag please? For your poor mother? If you love me you’ll do it!”

With a laugh and a kiss on her soft cheek you affirmed her, “Of course mama, I could never refuse your gifts. Now now mama don’t be cross i am not teasing! Just promise me you don’t worry about me anymore! I am a grown woman and I am very capable of taking care of things. I learned from the best yeah?”

You mother nodded and kissed your cheek back, patting your head, “Yes yes. Well thank you my love. Now I’m off to bed, and you should too. Sleep well my darling.”

As you prepared for bed you felt a heaviness in the pit of your stomach. What would your mother say when she found out you had been lying to her? What if she did find out? What if she sees you with Alfie in the street? No no it wasn’t possible. Your mother hadn’t left this side of Camden in a decade, and she hates going farther than two blocks. No no it’s fine. You’re fine. And technically, it wasn’t a complete lie! No Alfie was honorable! And he was sweet! And he was handsome… and kind…. and smart… and rugged… if he weren’t a gangster you would’ve probably been matched with him… to be his wife.. No no! No what a childish fantasy. Those are the thoughts of a love struck child. He was your boss and that was it! So what if he was handsome? You were his secretary and that was it! And if he somehow decided to… promote you… you allowed a giggle to leave your chest as you blew out the lamp next to you. Tomorrow is another day.

Soon you developed a routine with Alfie, and the next few months seemed to fly like a wonderful dream. During the week you woke up, making yourself and Alfie lunch for day. The walk to the bakery was typically a lovely and brisk one, with the rising sun being your partner.

Upon arriving at the office, you make quick work of saying hello to the regular faces, and sneaking a sweet treat to Ollie. You set the kettle on, making sure a nice hot cup is ready for you and Alfie upon his arrival. A healthy amount of milk and sugar for you. Almost no milk for Alfie, but extra sugar. Then the daily schedule needs to be attended to. After working with Alfie for a few months you’ve developed a system of who gets what treatment. Some names get tea and a pleasant seat. Some get very bitter tea and must stand the entire time while they wait. Some get absolutely nothing, and are made to stand with their back to Alfie’s door, wondering how they will be summoned. Shot or call. During the meetings you take copious notes. Partially to make sure you don’t miss anything that Alfie will need to call upon later, partially to make visitors nervous about what is being recorded. You had become quite the necessary tool for Alfie. You added a certain glamour and class to the office. A sort of authority in the way you walked that continued to make weak men sweat in the office. Alfie’s favorite part of these meetings was having you re-read what was said, noticing that you added a certain something to keep the pressure on the other party. You were proving yourself an absolute natural.

It was during a day like this when Alfie came back from a ‘social visit’ with a big smile on his face, “Shalom treacle!! Get your coat darling we’re going out!”

You looked up from the calendar you were organizing, “Shalom Alfie, what do you mean we are going out? You have an appointment at 2, and you need to look at the numbers from last week and-“

“Hush woman, fuck the meeting I said we are going out.”

He grabbed your long coat from the hook, and held it open for you to put it on, “Now my love we have very special things today. You remember the gaming club Tommy mentioned? Well he found a place right? And today we are going to look at it and get a price for it.”

As you put your arms through the sleeves, and grabbed your scarf from Alfie you can’t help but question, “But what does this have to do with me? Why do you want me there?”

Alfie then finished his dressing of you by handing you your bag and offering you his arm, “What does this have to do with you? What does this have to do with you? Have I heard that right? Well my dear you put the fear of the devil himself into men like no other. Make them piss themselves. No no don’t laugh treacle it’s true! I need you to strike fear in the hearts of these sinners and help me find the holes. Think you can do it darling?”

The way he smiled at you… it made you want to do anything and everything for him. You smiled and nodded, “Let’s get on with it then.”

Alfie smiled even greater at the small smirk that played on your beautiful lips. He loved it when you worked with him like this. You walked arm and arm, laughing and carrying on like mischievous children ready to prank their teacher. You arrive at the possible location still laughing when you meet Thomas Shelby, and two other men, who you can only assume are the other Shelby brothers that you’ve heard so much about. Your eyes meet with Tommy’s, and you feel your stomach drop at the wink he gives you before walking toward you and Alfie. “Alfie, glad you could make it, “ he stoops down to grab your hand and kiss it, “Good to see you again darling. Let me introduce you to my brothers.”

You’re introduced to both Arthur and John. Your eyes soften at both their faces. John’s eyes show a soft mirth, a sweetness of a young man who still has so much to learn, much like Eli. Arthur… just looking at him your heart is heavy. You don’t know anything about him but his eyes look sad, and there is a weight to his shoulders that make you already feel quite sorry for him.

It takes about three flights of stairs to reach the top floor of the building. It's musty, clearly has not been used for some time, there are cobwebs and piles of dust over every counter, and the once white cloths covering the tables are now a dingy gray. Your wide eyes look up and around the space, clutching your notepad and pen to your chest, "What did this place used to be?"

Tommy answered, "It was once a bar, a little club run by some young idiot who thought he knew his way around this business. Couldn't make it past a year. Now.... it's been sitting vacant. Waiting for us."

You stray from Alfie's side, making notes of everything that would need to be done, "What all is included in the sale?"

"Everything. Tables, counters, fixtures, chairs. All for a reasonable price if you ask me."

"Mmmm Alfie will be the judge of that I think. Alfie, the wall paper will need to be redone yes? I think a richer color on the walls."

Alfie looked at Tommy and smiled, "Yes you're quite right treacle. A wine red yeah? Something indicative of the debauchery of such a hell hole."

"Mmm yes. Tommy, John, Arthur... how stable is this bar counter? How much would it cost to replace it?"

And so went the rest of the afternoon. You milling around the space making notes and sketches, and supplementing with the comments of the men in the room, who may or may not have been following you like ducklings. John and Arthur pulled curtains to let light in, and frankly John was more than willing to do what it took to gain a pleased smile from you. Once adequate notes had been taken, everyone sat around a table, waiting for the agent to come by and agree to a price.

During this part of the meeting, you tended to hold your tongue, only responding to when Alfie asked you to ‘refresh’ his memory on a particular point. It was these parts of the meetings that you could really see Alfie work his magic. Tommy Shelby and Alfie Solomons couldn’t be more different. Where Tommy was smooth and steady in tone, Alfie was a hurricane. A bear of a man who ripped things to shreds. Though on the surface it looked as though Alfie was merely destroying and rebuilding on a whim, there was a method. Study his opponent, memorize the motions and responses to his moves, and utilize it against them. Use previous information to flip and return on his enemy. It was a studied craft. Something you knew that had worked on for a long time. It was an art piece, and with every wink he threw your way, it was clear it was not just an act, but a piece of him. He was a gangster, through and through.

Soon enough, a deal was reached, and a plan was set in place for renovations to start the very next day. And in accordance with their 50/50 split, equal men of Shelby’s and Solomons’ men would be taking part in the work. All the men shook hands, you nodded and smiled at the Shelbys, quick to rebuff Tommy’s offer to take your hand again. Alfie seemed to be in a particularly good mood, and as you walked out of the building, he looked at you and said, “Oi... you hungry?"

You stopped and peered up in his eyes that were partially obscured by the wide brim of his hat, "Mr. Solomons are you asking me to dinner?"

He rolled his eyes, "Oh goodness... see this is why you can never be nice right? Because there you go... being cheeky with me... can never be a yes or no with you yeah? It's always got to be something with you innit? I mean - "

"Alfie Alfie! Yes I am hungry! Now take me to dinner and buy me a drink yeah?" You laughed at his blustering and grabbed his arm, making him meet your eyes, he huffed in response but couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"Buy you a drink yeah buy you a drink! Buy you a hobby so you stop harassing old men. I mean don't you have anything better to do than just be mean to your old boss?"

You laughed as you both walked away down the street, "What do you mean a hobby? My whole life now is just doing your bidding isn't it? And someone must keep you humble, all that business makes your head explode."

You let Alfie lead you to a clandestine pub a few blocks away, shrouded by family businesses and laughing people. As soon as Alfie walked in, the wait staff scurried around, clearing a table in the corner for both you and Alfie. Soon enough you had been given food and drink, and you felt increasingly more relaxed in your seat, facing away from the door opposite of Alfie. You allowed yourself to day dream in the comfortable silence you occupied. It didn't feel like dinner with your boss. It felt like dinner with a friend. Dinner with more than a friend. You imagined about what it would be like with Alfie all the time. To spend the afternoon with him walking through town, enjoying the sun and the conversation. To be taken to dinner with him, meet with friends and repeating faces. To be taken back home with him... sit in front of his fire... to fall asleep with him...

"Hello... treacle??" You're knocked out of your reverie with Alfie's bejeweled fingers waving in front of your face.

"Oh my gosh Alfie I'm so sorry! Yes whats wrong?"

Alfie laughed heartily head thrown back, "Goodness darling your mind must've been in fucking Timbuktu! I was asking if you wanted another drink?"

You felt the heat flush to your ears and cheeks and chuckled in your embarassment, "Oh my goodness I'm so embarrassed. No no I'm fine Alfie thank you. You go, I'll keep our table."

Alfie nodded and went to the bar to grab another glass of Rum. You proceeded to look around the cozy pub when a man slid into Alfie's seat. "Well hello beautiful. Mind if I sit here?"

Your eyes rushed to him. Young. Could be handsome if he cared to bathe and wash the stink of liquor off of him and change his shirt. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was sweaty. Stupid. Clearly so. "I'm sorry but you must be mistaking me for someone else. I'm here with my boss and you are sitting in his seat."

He sneered and winked at you, "Oh I saw the old man alright. Solomons yeah, I know him. I'm not too worried about the old man darling. Why don't you come sit with me yeah? I promise I am much more pleasant company."

The irritation was brewing in your stomach, but in truth you didn't want to cause a scene, "If you know Mr. Solomons then you either have a death wish or you are stupid. Please leave and get away from me. Mr. Solomons will not be happy to see you in his seat."

"You calling me stupid?"

"I am. You are clearly an imbecile, and a drunk one at that, now if you excuse me."

You proceeded to get up to find Alfie, when the man stood up and grabbed your arm, "You dumb bitch, how dare you get up. I'm trying to be nice to you!"

The table fell over with a clatter, and you began to scream, "Get off of me!!"

Before you could say another word Alfie came through wretching the man's hand off your arm, squeezing the man's neck."Now you listen to me right? You apologize to the young lady right now."

The young man's face began to slowly turn red, but he managed to splutter out, "Or what? You're gonna hit me with your cane?"

Alfie only seemed to squeeze tighter, and you saw something in Alfie's eyes that you've never seen before. It scared you. "No... no no... this is what's going to happen. If you don't apologize to the sweet young lady here. I will kill you. If you do apologize, I will not kill you. Now I think... I think that is a pretty generous offer yeah? And little man... I think you know who I am. And I think you know that killing little vermin like you doesn't bother me the least bit yeah? So what will it be? Quickly now!"

Without Alfie letting go, the slowly purpling face gasped out, "I'm sorry. I'm so... sorry ma'am."

You nodded back, feeling bile rise in your throat. Alfie dropped the man unceremoniously on the floor with a crack of the table. Without looking away from the gasping man he yelled to seemingly no one and everyone, "OUT!"

Every patron but you and the owner scrambled out with out a second thought. The bar owner locked the door and went to the back, and you felt your pulse quicken ringing in your ears. The sick in your stomach swirling. Alfie circled the still gasping man, who had bruises blooming on his throat, "Now... who taught you to grab women like that eh? Who said that was ok?"

The man didn't respond, and in anger Alfie kicked him right in the ribs. You screamed behind your hands as you heard the sickening thud and crack. Alfie grabbed the man by the collar and shoved him against the wall, 'WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? YOU THINK YOU CAN GRAB MY SECRETARY! YOU CAN GRAB MY GUEST?"

The young man began to sob, begging, and saying he was sorry. Alfie only continued, "Oh you crying now yeah? I thought you said you knew about me and weren't scared. That's why you thought you could harass my sweet secretary yeah? Well let me get you better acquainted."

With that, you saw the Mad Baker of Camden for the first time. Beating and beating and beating the man in front of you. Blood coating the knuckles of Alfie, as the young man's face proceeded to take the most brutal beating of it's life. You tried to stay quiet but it became too much, "ALFIE ENOUGH! It's enough Alfie!"

He paused, fist mid air as the man quivered underneath him. Alfie turned to you, "Enough? It's enough?? This man touched you without your permission and this is enough?!"

"You're going to kill him Alfie! Please enough!"

"I determine when it's enough!"

And he went back to punching him, growing more and more wrathful. And it became too much when the groans stopped, but the punches didn't. All you could do was scream at Alfie and weep. When Alfie finally finished and was heaving, you shoved a napkin in Alfie's hand and left without a word.

You began walking down the street, the tears streaming down your face. You didn't want anyone to see you crying, and the slowly setting sun aided. It was going to be an hour walk home. Your feet will hurt by the end of the night. But you didn't care. You needed the walk. You needed the air. You needed the scent of blood out of your nose and the sight of Alfie out of your mind. You had walked for who knows how long when you heard Alfie's voice yelling over the sound of a car, "Get in the car NOW!"

You looked over your shoulder, Alfie was yelling your name out the window of the car, with Ollie driving. You turned your head back and kept walking forward. You kept hearing Alfie curse, yelling your name, "Stop being a child and get in. DO AS I SAY NOW!"

"OR WHAT? YOU'LL BEAT ME WITHIN AN INCH OF MY LIFE??"

You tried to keep walking, but in a dangerous move the car sped and swerved in front of you, blocking your walk. You gasped as Alfie got out of the car, with a red stained, jeweled finger in your face, "Listen to me... you stop this act. You get in the car right now. You can be angry at me all you want but listen to me... you do not walk home alone. You work for me, you don't walk alone at night. Now. Get. In. The. Fucking. Car."

Tears were still streaming down your face, and you were so so angry with him, but you didn't have a choice. And your feet were hurting. With a huff you walk in the car, not letting him hold the door open for you. You sat in your seat, nodding at a very embarrassed looking Ollie. As soon as Alfie sat next to you, you stared out the window, looking at all the apartments whose occupants were definitely not listening in to your argument. You sat in silence for a few moments, but you couldn't hold it in any longer, "That was too far Alfie."

"I decide what is too far."

"You could have killed him."

"And the world would be better for it."

"You cannot treat people like that Alfie. He was just a child."

"A child who definitely would have hurt another woman in the future, he needed to learn a lesson."

You turned to him then, "Oh and that's how people are taught then yeah? Beating them to a bloody pulp any time they make you upset?"

He leaned in to your face, getting dangerously quiet, "This is my life darling. This is what you signed up for."

You scoffed, "I did not sign up to be a witness to you being a beast! This is not a way to live! This is heinous! You don't have a right to treat people this way!"

You didn't realize your volume, or the way your heart was racing. You were heaving, tears streaming down your face. His eyes... fixated on you. There was rage but you knew it wasn't at you, "I have every right darling. This is the life that has been given to me. Everything that I have, everything that I can give to you, Ollie, and the rest of the men in that distillery, is because of what I do. This world that we live in darling? You think that's fair? Nah... that ain't fair. If you want anything in this life... you need to take it. Grab it with both hands and never let go and never let anyone else take it. This is the way this world works beloved. This. This is what you signed up for. Now either grow up... or don't come back to the office."

You breath stopped. You didn't even consider that option. You felt more tears fall as you turn to face the window again. The rest of the car ride was in agonizing silence. You hated every minute. Alfie made no noise except a huff. After an infinity, you finally reached your home before you could move Alfie put his hand out, "Don't get up yet."

He grumbled as he got out of the car, looked around at both ends of the street, and then went to your door, opening it and helping you out. You refused to meet his eyes but you took his hand. You also let him walk you to the door, and as you reached for the door, you hear him cough and say, "I want you back at the office treacle alright? Course I do. But you really need to decide whether you can handle this. I hate seeing you upset I do darling. But this is who I am. This is the business. Now you need to decide if you can do it. Alright?"

You nodded your head limply. He just patted your head, feeling sick in his stomach, "Alright then. I'll know your answer if I don't see you tomorrow. Good night sweet heart."

"Goodnight Alfie." You whispered, turning your back quickly to run upstairs. Alfie would drive home in complete silence that night, agonizing about what would happen.

You ran past your whole family gathered around mending the laundry in the sitting room. You refused to tell you mother what happened, and didn't let Eli in your room. When your younger sister asked you what was wrong, you just cried in her chubby baby arms, while she patted your head with her child palms. You cried in your pillow, reliving the vision you saw, wondering what to do. You didn't want to see that kind of violence, you had never seen anything like that. But you loved this job. You loved your freedom. You loved spending time in the office, laughing with Alfie and meeting new people. You tossed and turned all night, but sleep would not take you. It was well past midnight when you finally felt the exhaustion of the day creep its' fingers over your eyes.

And then you smelled the smoke.

Tag List: @jokersqueenofchaos @hoodeddreams13 @satur9-saturnalia

#alfie solomons #peaky blinders #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons x y/n #alfie solomons fanfic #Interviews for New Beginnings #peaky blinder fanfic

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