#stalker nigel

[dolicekiss]

Golden Girl

PAIRING: Toxic Yandere!Nigel x Reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni) dubcon, breath play, murder, violence, slapping, stalking (the reader), gun play, hair pulling, choking, forced oral (male receiving), forced fucking, sabotaging the reader, humiliation, degrading & praise, threats, abuse, forced fingering, breeding kink (nigel wants to baby trap reader), a completely filthy fucked up oneshot

SYNOPSIS: Going to a club in Bucharest was normal, you thought. But when bodies of the boys you interacted with after leaving the club started turning up, your vacation was put on hold. Worried whether you were the killer’s next victim — you were all over the place but what you didn't know was you'd caught the eye of a well known mob boss, Nigel Banyai and the man was willing to do just about anything to make you his.

Fourth body this week.

Found dead in the woods — littered with knife wounds like fucking red confetti. You were terrified but what scared you more was the Romanian police on your ass since all the boys ending up dead were somehow leaving links which trailed back to you.

Everytime a boy or a man was found, they called you in for questioning. Having no solid proof against you, they always released you but with a warning that they will catch you if you were behind the murders. It all became worse when you were forbidden from fleeing the country or even the city — forced to suffer in fear in Bucharest.

It angered you.

Why the fuck was someone targetting you, like this? Sabotaging you, forcing you to stay in Bucharest? It irritated you and this was not something you had looked forward to when you made plans to come to Bucharest.

You were puzzled.

Were you also on the killer’s target list? Was he going to come for you too, kill you too? Were you also gonna end up on the news like all those boys?

You made up your mind to visit the club from where this all began from.

Ever since you'd left, a bloody trail fucking followed and this was getting out of hand. Four men were dead — because they had interested with you. One had asked for your number at the club, the other had catcalled you a few days later on the street and the other two were friends who harassed you after you rejected them.

You decided to go.

In the same outfit, at the same exact time.

You entered the club — it was in a shady area but it was a fun club. Filled with escorts and strippers. It was the best kinda club, especially for a wild girl like you. As you maneuvered your way through the sweaty crowd of people dancing on the floor, you made it to the bar.

Plopping down on a stool, you ordered a simple martini and threw your bare leg over the other. In certain scrutiny, your gaze ran over the people. Attempting to find the person who had sabotaged you this bad. All you saw were people having fun, kissing and grinding against each other.

When your drink arrived, you took a sip and groaned in frustration. Hand drowned in your hair, gripping onto it to relieve yourself from some of the frustration.

You decided to scan the crowd once more and this time a pair of piercing dark eyes captured your attention. A blonde man, standing there, in a secluded corner. He stared at you, like he was drinking you in and the way he looked at you caused chills to run up your spine.

He was fucking gorgeous.

But his aura was prominent enough for you to notice it throughout the whole club.

You lowered your gaze and shook your head, emptying out your martini. The song changed and everyone screamed, their energy rejuvenated. You ordered another drink and then felt someone sit right next to you. It was that blonde, gorgeous with golden strands hovering over his forehead.

“First time here?”

His thick accent was delicious. You wanted to eat him because of the way he sounded and looked.

“No. Second, which is ironic because my first was fucking awful.” You spat out the venomous words, fingers tightening around the glass as you brought it to your red lips and drank a sip.

The handsome stranger scoffed at you, ordering himself a drink too. A Bourbon and it fit his taste. “Why was the first time awful?”

You sighed, leaning into your seat. “Someone is killing every boy I talk to. I'd be careful if I were you.”

It was as if you'd cracked a joke. His laugh was loud and deep, sending chills direct to your already soaked cunt. The man was straight out of some fictional book, his demeanor and looks making you act like some feline in heat ready to mate.

Too bad, you had no idea what was coming.

“Sounds like someone's got themselves the attention of a stalker.” His comment caused you still. He was right.

It could've been a stalker.

Which only heightened your fear. You finished your glass of martini and before you could order another one, the man spoke up. “Boys should learn how to take no for an answer. It would save them a lot of trouble.”

With that, he rose up from the stool and walked into the crowd of people. Your blood ran cold when your brain registered his words through the heavy bass of the music roaring through the speakers. Eyes widening in realization, you also stood up and ran in pursuit of him.

You didn't know what you were thinking, following the man that was murdering all these boys. You were afraid but you were also curious — like a cat that was about to get slaughtered because of her curiosity.

You only caught a glimpse of his blonde hair moving through the crowd and you followed him, heels clicking against the floor as you found yourself making your way outside through the back door. This exit lead you to an empty area, deserted and abandoned. The music slowly disappearing the further you delved into this area.

It was like some tight alleyway.

The smell of rain and concrete prominent.

“What a silly move. Following your stalker out here, all alone.” You heard his voice to your left and a drop of sweat trickled down your spine.

Your gaze followed from where his voice was coming from and you found him leaned against the wall, under a dimly lit lamp. Between his fingers, he held a cigarette as he smoked. You swallowed tightly and gathered your courage, the same determination which you used to track down the man who'd ruined your vacation.

You were pissed.

“Fuck do you want from me? Just why are you killing all these boys?”

He continued smoking. Dragging in puffs and squinting his eyes while doing so. Then he finished it and threw the little cigarette aside, not bothering to crush it. He took slow, predatory steps towards you, standing at a foot's distance.

Then he lit up another cigarette.

“They dared to approach what's mine.” He said, with boldness.

You let out a dry laugh. Was he fucking serious? He was a handsome man, too bad he was also delusional. You approached him, your finger extending out and pointing at his chest. “I'm not some fucking piece of land you'll claim. I haven't even met you, nor do I know you. You have the fucking Romanian police on my ass like cat after mouse.”

Your anger was bubbling up with each passing second. You didn't even care that he'd killed people — that being the least bit of your concerns. You were upset because you couldn't have fun, you couldn't roam around the country like how you'd dreamed to. It was all going down.

Because of him.

“I wouldn't speak to me like this if I were you. I don't like brats.” He said, voice dangerously low and my knees nearly buckled. You frowned and furrowed your eyebrows at him. “I don't give a fuck. You're ruining my vacation, for what reason? What did I do to you?”

He sighed, flicking open the pale packet and retrieving another cigarette. He lit it up and looked at you, as he placed it between his lips.

“You belong to me, darling.” He blowed the smoke of his cigarette into your face and you coughed out, hand flying in front of your face to move the smoke away.

Before you could argue more with him, he had his hand wrapped around your throat and forced you up against the wall. You struggled, caught off guard but you still struggled although it proved useless. He discarded his cigarette, spitting it out to the side. The man was ten times stronger than you, his rough hand clasping around your throat while his other retrieved a gun from his leather belt.

Your eyes widened in horror at the weapon.

Was he going to kill you?

Glancing between him and the weapon, you shook your head. He brought it up to your head, holding it against it. “Such a dirty little mouth you've got. I bet it can also take my gun when I fuck your little cunt, no?”

You gasped at his words.

And he took it as a chance to slide the barrel of his gun into your mouth. The metal cold and sour against your flaccid tongue, nostrils inhaling the strong scent of gunpowder wafting off it. Tears had decorated your waterline, mind registering the vulnerable situation you were in.

You tried to apologize — regretting following him but it didn't work. The words came out as muffled cries when he slid his gun further into your mouth.

“You look pretty like this.” He whispered against you, staring into your teary gaze. “I bet you've got quite the perfect cocksucking mouth.”

You tried to say something, so he retracted his gun from your mouth, allowing you a chance to speak. “Please—let me go. I'm sorry, I want to go.”

He smiled at you. “Oh no baby, you're not going anywhere. The only reason why I got the police after your sweet little ass is because I knew you'd try to escape. Try to make a run for it. How could I let that happen, hm?”

Your gaze enlarged.

So it was him who purposely did that?

This was all a part of his fucked up plan to sabotage you from leaving the country? Just who was he, how did he have this much power and why the fuck did he want you? It all came crashing down on you like a damn plane.

“Why?” You croaked out.

He sighed, still holding the gun in his thick hand. That was a question of pure foolery. Had you not noticed the way he looked at you? How possessive he was acting? Nigel’s feelings for you went past something as minor as lust. He was truly devoted to you and needed you by his side. Even if it meant by force. “When you came to my club, dressed like this,” he pointed his gun up and down at the same outfit you wore from before. “it made me want to fucking kidnap you and keep you away from everyone. Dressed like a little whore, only I deserve to see this beautiful body of yours.”

You flinched at his words.

The stranger trailed the cold and wet —from being in your mouth— barrel down to your top, as it hung by a chain over your round tits. He scoffed at the sight of it. He fucking loved how you looked in the outfit but if it was enough to give him a hard time in his pants, it was enough to give others a hard time concealing their lust too. That did not sit right with Nigel.

He was a beguiling man.

You could see it in his darkened gaze but your fear had gotten the best of you.

He used his gun to remove the loose top hanging on your tits, a hoarse chuckle emitting from his throat when he saw just how easily the glimmering fabric exposed your tits to him. Your bare chest on full display, peaks hardened to perfection. The tip of his barrel ran over your right nipple and a suppressed whimper escaped you.

“I-I promise I won't tell anyone.” Your endeavor to get yourself out of this situation was of proper amusement to him.

Nigel raised a brow. “Yeah? Even if you tell someone, no one will help you. There's no point in begging and pleading — unless you're into me taking you by force. I wouldn't mind, I fucking love breaking stubborn little girls like you and leaving them damaged.”

It was as if your heart had stopped pumping blood into your veins, your brain growing cold and numb. Obviously there was no point in begging and you tried to struggle against his frame pressed up against you, pushing him with the strength of your shoulders. It only worked as fuel to his incinerating anger.

Nigel walloped you across the face with his other hand before shoving the gun back into your mouth. Actions rough and full of vigor, he rammed it in and out of your mouth while tears furiously fell down your face. The stinging pain from the slap and the searing of your jaw was a combination you found yourself to loathe.

He stared at you, eyes sharp and pupils completely dilated. Deep down you wished that someone, anyone came in this area and saved you from the man but your brain told you over and over again that no one was coming. Your body begging to surrender to the man's abuse.

The feeling of his cold barrel on your tongue felt foreign, your eyebrows scrunching up and Nigel nearly melted at how fucking cute you appeared. Saliva sputtered around the gun, coating your chin in slick and then once he'd had enough, he pulled it out.

“God, you have it so wet, I could easily fuck you with it.” He commented, head tilted as he stared at the gun covered in slick.

You shook your head, making a meek little sound at the suggestion. Getting fucked with a gun was not on your vacation list, especially by a dangerous killer like him. He could fucking blow you up with one single push of the trigger and the idea scared you but also —excited you.

“I wanna go home.” You cried, struggling once more. Nigel took hint of how you were not gonna become pliant anytime sooner so he reached over and grabbed a fistful of your locks — covered in confetti and glitter from being in the club. There it was. Another heavy slap delivered to your cheek, this time not only did your cheek hurt but also your lips stung too.

Running a tongue over it, you tasted metal and cringed.

He'd busted your lip.

“Get on your fucking knees if you still want all your damn teeth in your mouth.” You shivered at the sheer dominance behind his chilling threat. Nodding your head at him, he forced you down on your knees and you allowed him to. Knees scraping against the hard concrete, body aching from all sides.

Nigel pulled more on your hair, tugging you by your locks against the prominent bulge in his pants. “Take it out and suck it. If you don't want me to kill you right now, you better show me just how good of a cocksucker you are.”

You cried tears of vulnerability and devastation, nodding your head at him. Nigel wasn't actually going to kill you, no. He adored you too much to do that but this was necessary, in order to make you more pliant and obedient. More bendable and easy. His cock throbbed in his briefs, enjoying the look of fear that crossed your features. It suited you well.

You'd come here with the attitude of a fucking lioness and now you were nothing but a scared little bunny, cornered and captured.

With shaky fingers, you reached for his little zipper and pulled it down. Then you slowly maneuvered your hand through the little space and felt the thickness of his cock. Rock hard and girthy, you pulled it out. It immediately slapped you across your face and the size of it left you dismayed.

How the fuck were you going to fit that into your mouth?

“I-It won't fit.” You whispered, looking up at him and when you did that, you felt the vein going underside his cock throb against your hand. You weren't gonna lie, it was a pretty cock. It's head thick, seeping with precum and almost a dark shade of pink. The rest of it was long, thick and had protruding veins going up and down. Your jaw still ached from the gun, just how badly was his cock going to destroy you?

Nigel bucked his hips forward, causing his cock to nuzzle against the side of your face, a satisfied hum eliciting from his chest. “It'll fit, I'll make it fit. Even if I have to shoot your throat open so I can fuck it.”

Panic settled in. His ability to throw such gruesome threats around like nothing terrified you. It made you wonder just who this man was and how powerful he was to have you cornered like this — without a care in the world about the law enforcements or the repercussions to his actions.

Your tongue peeked out from the folds of your lips, running over his slit in one single lick and as a response the man shuddered in your hold. His groan was loud as he stared down at you, grip painfully tight on your roots. “Don't fucking tease me, my darling. I wouldn't want to mess up this beautiful face of yours.”

Idle threats were not his cup of tea. He meant every word he said when his gaze darkened and you got to work. Lips circling around his head, taking him into your mouth and sucking on it. Tongue caressing the underside of his cock, running over the protruding purple vein.

Nigel nearly melted at how fucking tight your mouth was. Even after preparing it with his gun, fucking it thoroughly so it'd expand, he was still feeling its contraction around his cock. Wet, tight and gummy. He slipped his length past by your palate, hitting it against your uvula and then sliding it along your windpipe.

When he did that, entered such a forbidden territory, you tried to stabilize your breathing and body by resting both your palms against his thick thighs. Fingernails scraping the cotton fabric of his dress pants — eyes falling shut. You tried to ignore it, the pain you felt and how you were fighting not to gag over it.

But you did.

Ended up coughing, sputtering all over his cock and he only moaned at that. Your saliva trickling down your chin and making a wet ring around his length.

Nigel held your head firmly with both his hands and began to fuck into your mouth. Thoroughly and carefully, he pressed his cock along your tongue and everytime you made a gagged sound, you felt it throb inside your mouth.

He seemed to love how much you were struggling against him. Little fists delivering hopeful thuds to be freed but all he did was shove himself farther down your tight little throat. “Ah, fuck. I wonder how tight your cunt is going to be. Just the thought of being inside your pussy has me near.”

Nigel’s huffed out a sharp breath, his hips twitching forward helping himself breach the barrier of your throat. Tears streamed down your face and at the sight of you this fucked up, he pressed at your head all the way until his perfectly trimmed hair at the base of his cock brushed against your nose.

You tried to inhale through your nose and Nigel chuckled. His thumb and finger pinched your nose, preventing it from breathing. Your lungs expanded, desperately trying to intake any form of oxygen and when it didn't receive it, you started to punch and beat at his thighs.

Loud gagging sounds filled the air and as he fucked your throat, he let out prominent grunts of pleasure. Chest rumbling from how good you felt wrapped around him, how he forbade you from breathing. Your life dancing in the palm of his little life, completely controlling you.

“Christ, you're so pathetic like this. What was it that you said? I was ruining your vacation, huh? Try to escape me now, Darling.” His words burned you with humiliation as you punched and threw a fit, eyelids dropping and eyes rolling back to your skull. You nearly saw black, almost on the verge of passing out but he pulled out.

Only for a split moment.

To admire the trail of spit connecting your lips to the head of his cock. The saliva glistening around your mouth, forming small bubbles underneath the dimly lit lamp. Your short gasps echoed in the alleyway, as your lungs swelled up to take in air. Nigel found you so beautiful like this, wrecked and ruined. And the best part was that he hadn't even fucked you yet.

The fact filled him with overflowing excitement.

You could only catch your breath once or twice before he occupied the expanse of your mouth again, thrusting roughly and painfully down your throat. He caught a glimpse of the print of his cock in your throat and nearly came — hips driving themselves in aggressive and vigorous thrusts. You could tell he was close by the way his hips twitched and his balls throbbed.

“Yes. Yes— Just like that. Take it baby, take all my fucking cum. You're so good, so fucking good.”

Nigel, with one aggressive thrust, shot his load right down your throat. Barely giving you a chance to spit it out, forcing you to swallow it. When he pulled out and found your mouth to be empty, no sign of his cum, a satisfied glint appeared in his gaze.

“Good girl. You swallowed before I could tell you.”

No, you didn't swallow. He'd forcefully cum down your throat and fucked it down your fucking windpipe. Your body shivered up, feeling cold but Nigel didn't really seem to care. The man was panting like a dog, chest rising up and down while he supported himself against the wall with his palm.

His other hand still in your hair, lazily sitting atop it.

You sniffled, swallowing back a loud sob threatening to escape. There was still hope inside you, that maybe after giving him his release, he'd let you go. So you tried your luck.

“Can I go now? Please?”

His head dropped down. Eyes holding contact with your teary ones and your words made him laugh. A deep, breathless laugh ringing against yours ears. He shook his head at you as if you were a child, who'd asked a question beyond stupidity.

“You thought this was all in the heat of the moment, that I needed a pretty mouth to cum inside?” His hand reached for you, fingers circling around your arm and pulling you up on your feet. His rough manhandling caused your knees to scrape brutally along the floor, a small whimper expressing your pain.

He was glaring at you. “I own this fucking club and all the escorts that work here. I could cum down anyone's throat here, my darling girl.” Nigel leaned in closer to you, the space between the two of you shrinking and it worried you. “It is your mouth I want to cum inside and your cunt I want to fuck. The soonee you accept it the better it is for you.”

You shook your head.

There was still fight left in you.

As you raised your hand, you slammed it down on his cheek. Tears swimming in your eyes causing your vision to become a blur but the pure rage that had awakened in his eyes was something even your blurry vision couldn't ignore.

You almost immediately regretted it.

“Fine.” He muttered, “you wanna act like a brat, you'll get treated like one.”

Nigel slammed your head against the concrete wall and the newfound pain in your head fucking throbbed, increasing and swallowing you whole. The next few minutes were a blur. You could feel him roughly pulling up the mini skirt you wore, in a fit of rage ripping the material of your lace panties. Nigel hated and loved how you were dressed at the same time.

Like some little prostitute.

“I wanted to be gentle but look what you're making me do. All you had to do was be fucking still and obey me, now I'm forced to treat you like this.” His raw manipulation nearly made you feel guilty in the vulnerable moment. Brain succumbing to his words and actions of pure brutality.

Nigel hiked your leg up, wrapping it around his own waist. He brought his hand down to your cunt and smacked along the stripe, watching you flinch. The action slightly brought you back but still not enough to register what was happening.

You were dumb now.

Like a braindead puppy who'd suffered enough.

Your body gave up to him. “Look how wet your little pussy is. All this fucking act of resilience for what? Just to have a soaked cunt?”

You flinched at his words. The brutal man shoved a finger inside you, forcing it in and you cried out. Blurry vision struggling to make out the outline of his face, the hard ridges blending in with the background. He soon added another, followed by another. Pace rough and fingers curved — he slammed them upwards and made you cry out with each thrust.

“N-No.” You managed to cry out, throat completely parched and dry from all the crying. The amount of tears you'd shed had you dehydrated and you needed a crisp bottle of cold water. Only that could cure all this now.

Nigel was knuckles deep inside you and he enjoyed how your pussy clamped around his fingers, wet and squelchy. The sounds of your flesh reacting to his had made his half soft cock erect again. Standing tall and curved against his stomach. He was still being too kind, preparing you to take his cock. He didn't know how many dicks had you taken in your cunt but his was about to be the last.

Thumb caressing your swollen bud, moving it in circles. He loved the way your body twitched and moved, your face still drenched in tears as if you hated this meanwhile your hot little body had its own mind. Clenching around his fingers, nipples hard and sensitive, your hips grinding against his fingers.

“You've got the prettiest fucking cunt I've ever seen, darling.” He commented, pulling out his fingers and rubbing them all over his length. his act of lubrication of his own cock with your arousal making you cringe.

Nigel rubbed his fat head over your swollen clit, watching your face distort in one of pleasure. You cried yet you let out soft little moans of complete contentment. Your lips were agape, and your eyebrows were pinched together. It was such a beautiful sight.

“Look at me.” He commanded and this time you hurried to listen. Finding his gaze and meeting it, you blinked away a few tears and he leaned forward to finally do what he had been wishing to do.

He occupied your lips in a rough kiss, head tilting to the side. His tongue forced open your lips — although he didn't have to actually force it open. The pain in your head made you pliant and obedient, which was a result of satisfactory for him. The man was practically eating your mouth. Teeth clashing against teeth, tongue fighting with tongue, saliva mixing in together. He didn't care your mouth was stained with the salty taste of his own cum.

Nigel was a filthy fucking bastard.

While he kissed you, he stroked himself a couple of times before guiding his thick head to your hole. The second you felt the burning stretch, your hips began to writhe against the wall. Before you could struggle more, Nigel’s brawny arms slithered down to your waist and he lifted you up with ease.

Pinning you on the wall.

He wrapped both your legs around his hips and fully bottomed out inside you. Feeling each and every vein grazing against your tight gummy walls. You had the cunt of a fucking virgin, so tight and so fucking raw. He knew how virgins felt like — he loved the taste of innocence.

Though he knew you were anything but a virgin.

That fiery little mouth you had proved that he wasn't the only man whom you had wrapped around your finger just by existing. He stalked you, everytime you tried to get laid he'd eliminate the men. Kill them and make sure no one could ever lay their hands on you, with or without your consent. Without your knowledge he'd protected you against multiple men.

The man eventually bottomed out inside you, his pelvis pressed against your clit. He still had his hands pinning yours to the wall and it was beginning to hurt. You needed some sort of relief from this torture so you looked at Nigel, with a pleading look of innocence in your eyes. “My arms, t-they hurt.”

He looked at you, contemplating whether to release you or not. “Your arms hurt, yeah? You wanna rest them on my neck?”

You nodded your head when he raised a brow at you. The amount of control he had over his actions, his expressions, it was too attractive but also intimidating. A chuckle rumbled from his throat and you flinched at it, staring at him in confusion. “Aw, and what makes you think I'll let you? You have been nothing but disobedient. Your behavior has been a fit of utter disappointment.”

You were speechless. How could he be this cruel to you? A lone tear slid down your face as you accepted your faith, the ache in your shoulders growing by each second. Nigel’s heart clenched at the sight, he couldn't be mad at you anymore. Not when he was entirely whipped.

His hands slowly retracted and your head slowly rose up, staring at him. He brought your arms to his nape and circled them around it. Your hold tightened and you leaned forward, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

There was no fight left in you.

You wanted this to get over with as soon as possible.

Nigel found this version of yours endearing and he couldn't wait till he had completely broken you. His cock began to move inside you, in agonizingly slow thrusts and your soft whimpers slid right in his ear. He held you in his arms while he fucked himself into you, feeling how your thighs twitched and your cunt clenched around him.

“You're so tight, baby.” He slurred, his strokes going more vigorous. Hips snapping inside you and your moans delighting him to a new extent. You could feel the stinging sensation of his fingernails piercing through your skin from how hard he was gripping onto your hips, using your hole to chase his own release.

Nigel was breathless, panting like some wild animal when ravaging its prey. You were that prey and being ravaged by him was something that broke you apart. Blonde strands hovering over his forehead, he was honestly a godly sight. The skin of your back scraped lightly across the wall — whenever he thrusted inside you.

Stomach flipping and heart thumping wildly in your ears, you sniffled and whimpered from each harsh stroke. “Look at me, fucking look at me.”

And you did.

Lifting your head from his shoulder and meeting his dark gaze. The way he stared at you, it was like he had finally found purpose in life. The raw obsession in his eyes was overwhelming for you to even register. Nigel dug his nails into your skin, littering crescent moons. All the sensations — of pain, of pleasure, of the taboo this was, of everything, you were consumed by it.

“You're gorgeous.” He whispered, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. Your heart flipped and you realized how fucked out you were because there was no way in hell you were flustered over compliments by this man.

Your hair stuck to your drenched forehead, a few strands finding residence over your cheeks too. Your lips are swollen and busted and your eyes are continuously glossing from the aggression of this man. Why did you capture his attention? Why couldn't it be someone else?

Nigel felt himself close.

So did you.

Your stomach had aggressive butterflies and your thighs convulsed, letting him know that you were near. He leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth, sucking on it and swirling his tongue around it. That and his thumb rubbing your clit was enough to send you over the edge. “Cum for me, my pretty. Cream all over my cock. Claim me as yours.” A loud scream tore through you, as you unraveled.

Eyes rolling back to your skull. Lips agape and the heaving movement of your chest cutting short — your cunt clenched around him and sucked him in. Desperately trying to keep his cock inside you. All this was enough to send Nigel over the cliff too. Seeing how beautiful you looked when you came all on his cock, your breathing short and little huffs escaped your lips. It was all so etheral for him.

To chase his own release, his thrusts grew relentless and he started to pound into you like some fucking animal. “I'm gonna cum inside you. I'm gonna give you a child, our child. You can't escape me, ever.”

You weakly shook your head but the way he fucked you had your body surging forward over his. You sobbed, tears of pleasure and sensitivity streaming down. Your cunt was throbbing and so was his cock, pulsating inside you. Balls hot and then he did what he'd promised you. He coated your insides white, spilling his hot seed inside your cunt.

Nigel was gasping — eyes squeezed shut and the blonde strands clouding his darkened vision. His hips stuttered, the more he came inside you. Rope after rope, enough to give you a child and you mentally punched yourself for not being on birth control. Him eliminating all the men around you made you not take the birth control anymore.

It fell right into his favor.

“You're going to milk me fucking dry, my pretty.” He growled, his own head falling into the crook of your neck. You could feel his harsh pants crashing against your sensitive skin. After catching his breath for awhile, Nigel pulled out of your cunt and you immediately arched your back — a whine sputtering from your lips.

The feeling of his cock sliding out of your hypersensitive walls made you clutch tightly onto him. Nigel held you with one hand and his body pressing into yours, while with the other he tucked himself inside his briefs and zipped up his pants. Then he also fixed you up too. Placing you down on the floor.

Your mini skirt was thankfully not ripped as he pulled it down over your ass. He tossed his jacket over your in a possessive manner. The man didn't want anyone to see you in this slutty little outfit anymore, now that he had claimed you as his.

“You're quiet.” He said, as he watched the cum leak out from underneath the mini skirt of yours, staining your legs. Nigel didn't bother to clean you up, reveling in the idea of his cum leaking out of you. You stared at him, a little braindead from what he'd done to you.

Then you swallowed, in an attempt to coat your dehydrated throat with your saliva. “Can I not be quiet? Does that bother you too?”

Nigel was surprised for a moment. He'd expected you to be silent but your sass was still there and he fucking loved it. How despite what he'd done to you, your sassy little attitude was still there concealed behind the frozen response of your brain to this situation.

He picked you up and smiled. “You're mine now. I'm taking you home.”

You didn't have it in you to resist him anymore. He'd already gotten what he wanted; you. Your face laid across his shoulder as he took you towards the open road and soon slid you right inside the passenger seat of his car. Your head leaned on the leather seat as you watched him, while he drove.

Nigel was fucking enthralled. Even if you weren't going to get pregnant, he'd make sure he's fucked you enough times to make you have his child. He didn't care if it had to be by force, he needed you. Wanted to keep you with him. Forever. In Bucharest.

[contentabnormal]

This week on Content Abnormal we present Basil Rathbone & Nigel Bruce in "The Canary Trainer", one of The New Adventures Of Sherlock Holmes!

[thesiltverses]

If there’s a list of books or plays or movies or tv series that influenced Eskew/TSV what’d be the top 10?

Probably different every time someone asks! But today let's go with...

Kafka's Castle / Trial / Penal Colony / Metamorphosis, Ligotti's Kafka-inspired stories (e.g The Town Manager) and other semi-adjacent absurdists and brilliant weirdos (Daniil Kharms, David Lynch, Hans Henny Jahn, Kobo Abe, arguably Fernando Pessoa?) who like to deal with social performance, human reaction and the pretence of normality in the face of unbearable strangeness, monstrous impositions and nightmare logic

Beckett's Happy Days / Endgame / Not I / WfG / Malone trilogy for the tragically pointless but inescapable search for meaning and fulfilment in ourselves, in our memories, in other people, in this wasted landscape, etc

Junji Ito's Uzumaki / Gyo / Amigara Fault / other stuff for powerfully making the argument that ludicrous horrors are also terrifying and gross horrors are also hilarious

Works that explore the helpless terror and allure in being horribly transfigured into a final shape that makes sense of us (The Fly / Videodrome, Annihilation, Ovid's Metamorphoses, Society, Ito again) or relatedly the shameless joy of setting fire to our social and familial and societal environment and embracing the wild, devilish, bestial and profane (a lot of stuff, but I'm thinking of the works of Angela Carter and Leonora Carrington and also The Witch and Carrie, that one Clarice Lispector book where she eats a bug)

Dostoevsky's Devils, Crime and Punishment and Notes from Underground for his unsurpassed collection of asocial self-obsessives having an existentially bad time and handling that poorly

The 1973 double bill of The Wicker Man / Don't Look Now for exploring the tragedy and horror of how our search for meaning may entrap us into a dead end of meaningless horrors

All of LeGuin's fiction but particularly The Dispossessed and Omelas.

The Wire for its peerless portrayal of a cast of complicated and largely unheroic human beings all attempting to either reach or destroy one another but who are ultimately all adrift and alone in the modern supersystem. The Wire and The Lives of Others for affirming the worth of even futile and powerless to support others who are suffering within that supersystem.

Any and all shit about strange and awful environments which may possibly possess a malevolent will or which are perhaps merely beholden to their own natural laws and we are the ones drawn to destroy ourselves within them (The Stone Tapes and many of Nigel Kneale's other works, The Children of Green Noah, The Haunting of Hill House, Roadside Picnic / Stalker, The Terror, The Minpins, Annihilation again, The Island of Morel, I know House of Leaves is a perfect fit for this but personally I always found it a bit hacky)

Riddley Walker, A Canticle for Leibowitz, and other post-apocalyptic work - to some extent Mad Max and the better Fallout games apply - that find the value and humanity (while recognising the potential for self-destruction) in our absurd efforts to construct meaning and to tell meaningful stories from out of the ruin and chaos all around us.

There's other stuff - The Silt Verses steals a lot of its initial atmospherics from True Detective Season 1, both shows are inevitably in dialogue with the mechanics and themes of Lovecraftian cosmic horror even if I wouldn't call Lovecraft a positive influence - but that's a pretty good list, I think.

[xxbrightshadowxx]

CBS Ghosts Hotel Au

Here’s a synopsis of an au I’ve had for Ghosts for quite a while:

Samantha Woodstone, determined to get her bed and breakfast on the map, agrees to host a big event which the hosts will play handsomely. Problem? She has two weeks to prepare and needs a new head chief. She soon meets the perfect candidate, Jay Arondekar, an excellent chief however how long will it take before her boss and employee relationship take a turn?

Meanwhile, checking into the bed and breakfast is newly divorced dad Pete Martino and his daughter Laura, wanting to spend time with her before she moved off for college. His daughter, however worried that her dad may never find love again after her mom. Fortunately, the odds turn into her favor as her father pines over entertainer/singer, Alberta Hayes. A woman with a determination to get out of a contract with her manger/cheating bootlegger boyfriend and away from her creepy stalker.

Elsewhere, Issac Higgintoot tries to become co-manger at the hotel, however Nigel Chessum, an old British rival from his years in law school. As their friendly rivalry continues as they fight for the job, Isaac makes a discovery about himself he wasn’t prepared for. The question reminds, will Nigel feel the same?

Native American, Sasappis, is determined to get the spotlight as head performer at the BNB. To get an okay from Sam, he must perform a groundbreaking story, requiring him to find a muse. As the week progresses, he reunites with an old childhood friend and crush of his, Shiki, he believes he finds his muse. Unfortunately, he meets Jessica, one of the two new interns. He soon finds himself in one of his favorite tropes of all, the love triangle.

Looking to reconnect with his son, Thor agrees to a job as security guard at the BNB. As he sees his son again and his grandchildren, Thor struggles to overcome his prejudice beliefs to be a part of his son’s life again. Fortunately for him, he meets former cult member and hippie, Susan ‘Flower’ Montero. As he spends more time with her, determined to let go of his hot-headed behavior, he soon realizes his feelings for her go far beyond platonical.

Finally, the host of the event Elias and Hetty Wood along with their son Thomas, stay at the hotel for Elias and Hetty to renew their vows. Hetty just can’t wait for this to be over, tired of her stale marriage. However, she meets young, finance bro, Trevor Leftkowitz. The young man, desperate to get teenage girl, Stephine to stop hitting on him, he and Hetty set up a strangers with benefits situation. As time past though and the ceremony comes up, Hetty wonders if staying married to Elias is truly worth it.

Unbeknownst to the majority, an evil scheme created by Elias lurks around. A plan made to steal ownership of the BNB and ruin Sam’s life.

Through friendship, change, and love, these strangers’ lives all intertwined in the span of just two weeks. The only question left is, will love triumph or will they be left miserable?

I may or may not write a fic of this. I don’t know yet.

[archerslittlefox]

`ᥫ᭡ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 my loves

@fatedprinceofhearts my silly boyfriend 💗💗 @littlefoxs-cat my princess fluffkins fox 💕

`ᥫ᭡ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 friends/acquaintances

@theunwedbride my bestie <33 @vampirel00rd jacks’s best friend & a sweet vampire @marisoltourmaline my step sister @evaismine my ex. i'm not yours, luc. @theauroravalor chaos's twin sister, stay away from my jacks

@crownprinceofthemagnificentnorth my ex husband

@legendarydante caraval master, he likes my cat <3 @thefateslayer princess donatella, jacks’s ex @scarlettdragnasantos the empress of the south

`ᥫ᭡ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 the fates

@the-maidendeath @themistressluck @solaninejestermad @the-poisoner @priestess-priestess @the-undeadqueen @the-assassinfate @gavrielthefate @thearacle @thepregnantmaid @ladyprisoner

`ᥫ᭡ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 reporters + stalkers

@kristofknightlinger i think he likes ankles @iminyourwallschaosvalor @the-heckler

`ᥫ᭡ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 alter egos?

@crimsonsrosegold @rosegoldscrimson @legendary-chaoss @chaotic-legend @thesailors-favouritelover @fatedprinces-favouritelover

don’t know them but they seem nice <3 or scary

@tattooed-nigel @histographeraiko @thekingofdeath @sour-purple-plums @highking-cardan

// dm to join ouabh rp! 🙈💕

[iminyourwallschaosvalor]

Hello 👋🏻

Resident stalker photographer of the Magnificent North, Valenda, ect. You can call me Ghost

I stalk

@vampirel00rd pookie who needs to get his head out of his ass.

@theunwedbride my second favourite fate

@archerslittlefox why you hate me?

@fatedprinceofhearts third favourite fate.

@thefateslayer she’s cool and lets me stalk her

@legendarydante he’s cool and maybe gay

@meridianempress I like to invade her privacy

@julianbernardomarrerosantos looks FIIIIINNNEE without a shirt

@lyricmerrywood lala’s dead brother, chaos and Jacks’s friend

@histographeraiko @tattooed-nigel idk who you are

@thesailors-favouritelover cool jacks

@crimsonsrosegold @rosegoldscrimson scargelin

@priestess-priestess @the-poisoner @the-assassinfate @ladyprisoner @pregnantmaid @the-maidendeath @themistressluck @the-undeadqueen @gavrielthefate fates who aren’t as cool as chaos

extras: @warneraaronanderson @highking-cardan

I would rather die again than stalk

@theauroravalor I don’t have to like you just bc you’re chaos’s sister

@princeapollothearcher stupid tree

@marisoltourmaline witch

@evaismine fake ass bitch

@theghostoftheshadows I was here first.

@kristofknightlinger reporter

[elisedonut]

Dammit, you've got me thinking about Colin >:( the thing is, because I'm new to this idk who my favourite ship with him is. Like Percy is cute and Harry is too and so is Ginny or Luna but that's it for me. Cute. WHERE'S THE BURNING PASSION WHERE IS THAT SHIP THAT MAKES MY INSIDES CRUNCHY I HAVEN'T READ ENOUGH TO KNOW IT WHEN I SEE IT :(

>:)

I love Colin so much obv my favorite is Percy/Colin but I do like Harry/Colin as a one sided crush and am kinda falling into the idea of Luna/Colin as a work place romance ever since I learned of that line he has in a game about wanting to work for the quibbler

I do recommend

Different by Miraphina Atherton (mew_tsubaki)

Its a Nigel/Colin fic and I loved it a ton and think it does well in both its Colin and Dennis portrayals

(Nigel is a movie only character that they used to replace Colin and Dennis because Colin's actor grew too fast to keep playing him so personality wise he's pretty much just another Creevey without the last name)

I feel like Colin just kinda inherently falls into that cute and/tragic category like he has passion but other then his photography it's not tapped into as much as it could be. His type of love just inherently feels very puppy like and obsessive and I love that about him so much

like he would make such a good stalker because he practically already is one but he'd be so nice about it which makes it more fun to me personally

our guy just doesn't understand boundaries much and that's ok he can steal Percy's sweaters and take creepy photos of him when he's not paying attention and know his whole daily schedule and Percy will probably kinda like that about him

Harry's just like "How do you even deal with him."

while Percy's just "Just because you didn't like the attention doesn't mean I don't"

In that soulmate AU

Percy finds a whole album of just him that Colin had hidden away so random people wouldn't see it and a bunch of them don't even make sense on how he took them

Percy unpacks his stuff after his sixth year just to find multiple articles of clothing missing because Colin took them home with him without asking because Percy left it unattended for like five minutes and Colin came into the room and saw it and went swipe without thought because he's going to miss him over the summer.

Colin being physically incapable of keeping the smile of his face when he sees him after Percy graduated that really it's a wonder they've been able to keep their soulmate status a secret at all

just give me all the innocent affections

all the Colin being obsessive and kind of creepy without noticing because he's just so excited about everything

like 'it's not creepy to steal your soulmates sweater just so you can sleep with it over the summer' is his thought process but then he has to explain to his dad why he has a sweater like 3x his size and his dads just like sigh Colin...

[razzlerdazzler]

Hey! Mind if I have a Warrick Brown x reader where she gets pushed out of the window and injured by Nigel Crane instead of nick in season 2?

Falling

@micheleamidalajedi Sorry it took so long, I hope you like it :)

Pairing: Warrick X Reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, hospital

“Hey babe, did you read what they wrote about Nick?” You ask with a smile on your face and the department’s newsletter in your hand as you walk towards your boyfriend in the break room. He looks up at you with a smile as you put the newsletter on the table so he can read it as you sit in the chair next to him as he eats his lunch. He smiles and nods as he looks down at the newsletter. “Greg showed me it earlier, seems like our Nick has become quite the celebrity.” he chuckles as he takes a bite out of his sandwich.

 You chuckle and nod,”it’s kind of weird seeing him be called a crime stopper considering that’s what we do for a living, but I'm happy that he’s getting the recognition that he deserves.” Warrick smiles and nods and finishes his sandwich. “Let’s just hope that it doesn’t go to his head,” he jokes. “Yeah, we don’t want to inflate his ego more than it already is.” He gets up from his chair and throws his trash away.

As he starts walking back towards the table, he asks, “I was wondering if you wanted to go to dinner with me tonight, there’s a restaurant that just opened up a few blocks from here that I've been dying to take you to.” You smirk as you watch him get closer towards the table, but instead of sitting back down in his chair he puts his hand on the table and leans down towards you until both of your faces are only inches apart. You smirk and look over towards the doorway and make sure that nobody’s coming into the break room, and then look back towards him.

You quickly look down at his soft lips before making eye contact with him again and you smile as you lean in and give him a quick, gentle peck on his cheek instead of his lips. “Sounds like a date,” you say with a teasing smirk as you pull away. He groans and hides his face in your shoulder with a chuckle. “You little tease, I'm gonna get you back for that later.” You smirk as he pulls his face away from your shoulder and stands back up, “I'm sure you will.” You say before you see Gil enter the break room.

“Hey, I need you two to head down to a possible suspects house for the Jane Galloway case and bring him in so we can ask him a couple of questions.” You nod, “she’s the stalker case correct?” Gil nods, “we figured out that her killer had to have had access to her house voluntarily so we’re suspecting that somebody from a utility company did it. We looked through her bills and found that the last utility person who came to her house was a man named Nigel Crane who works at Luna Cable.” He gives you both the man’s address and walks back towards his office. Warrick looks over at you, “let’s head out.”

You nod and follow him towards the van and get strapped into the passenger seat while he takes the driver's seat. Soon you’re both off towards Nigel’s house. During the drive you both remain in a comfortable silence as you think about the case. That is until you come to a weird realization and you look over at Warrick who’s focused on driving. “Hey isn’t Luna Cable the same company that did work on Nick’s tv?” Warrick glances over at you before turning his eyes back to the road. “Yeah it is now that I think about it,” he glances over at you again. “Do you think it’s a coincidence?”

You stare out at the road worriedly, “I hope so.” You suddenly feel warmth on your thigh and you look down to see Warrick's hand gently squeezing your thigh in a comforting manner. You look over towards him and see him staring at the road as he continues to drive. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I'm sure everything will be fine, it’s probably just a coincidence.” You smile at his comforting words and you can feel your worry wash away. You relax into your seat and gently put your hand over his and gently squeeze it with a small smile. “Thank you.” He smiles and glances over at you, “don’t mention it sweetheart.”

Soon, after another couple of minutes of comforting silence you reach Nigel Crane’s house. Warrick parks the van on the side of the road and you both get out and look at the house. “Well this is the place,” you say as you both start to walk down the driveway towards the house. As you get closer to the front door Warrick puts an arm in front of you, signaling for you to stop. You look over at him confused, “what’s wrong?” He points towards the front door, causing you to notice that it’s slightly ajar. You both look over at each other worriedly and prepare for the worst.

You walk towards the ajar door and knock on it, “Nigel Crane?” You call out with no response. You both glance at each other before Warrick opens the door further and you both take a step inside the house and you immediately notice that most of the lights are out and it’s completely quiet. “Nigel Crane are you here? We’re with the police, we’ve got some questions, we need to ask you about Jane Galloway!” Warrick calls out in the quiet house but he doesn’t get a response.

You look over at him confused, “maybe he’s not home?” Warrick glances around the room, “maybe, let's check all of the rooms just in case.” You nod as you both search around the first floor of the house and meet at the stairs leading to the second floor. “Maybe he’s upstairs taking a nap?” You suggest sarcastically. Warrick looks over at you with a smile. “Even after we’ve been calling out for him?” You smirk and shrug, “maybe he’s a heavy sleeper?” Warrick chuckles and shakes his head before you both head upstairs. You both continue to check the rooms but they’re all empty.

“Maybe he’ll be back later?” You suggest and Warrick nods. “I’ll call Gil and let him know that we can’t find him.” You nod as Warrick takes his phone out and tries to call Gil, but with no success. “Huh, guess the reception is bad in here,” he says. He nods over towards the balcony that one of the rooms seems to have. “I’ll try calling him out there and see if it's any better.” You nod as he walks out to the balcony and you look around the empty hallway, and notice that you both missed a room. You walk towards the door and quietly open it and look inside, only to see a large bed and a couple of dressers. “Huh, this must be the main bedroom,” you say to yourself as you take a couple of steps inside.

As you walk into the room you feel your body freeze and your eyes widen in surprise when you immediately notice what looks to be blood stains on the carpet. As you walk further into the room cautiously, and follow the blood stains you notice that the stains lead to a trash can that’s right beside the window. You walk towards the trash can and squat down and look inside of it, only to see a latex glove covered in blood. You suddenly hear a sound right behind you, but before you can turn your head to look at the figure or call out for Warrick you feel yourself being grabbed and thrown out the window.

It feels like the world slows down as you fall, like everything is moving in slow motion. You feel weightless as you fall, but you don’t even have enough time to scream before you feel the impact of the cold, hard ground. The next thing you know all you can feel is unbearable pain as your body crashes into the ground. You feel your chest burn with the feeling of the wind getting knocked out of you, and you see dots in your vision from the impact. Tears start to form in your eyes from the pain, causing your vision to get blurry.

“Y/N!” You hear Warrick scream your name, but his voice sounds distant, like he miles away. Through all of the pain you’re somehow able to find yourself turning your head, and through your blurry vision you can see Nigel Crane get in his car and drive off as Warrick sprints towards you at full speed until he finally gets to you. He drops to his knees as he reaches you, quickly assessing the state that you’re in. “Shit,” he whispers to himself as he sees the state you’re in, causing you to finally try to move your head down so you can try and see just how badly you’re hurt.

Warrick notices and quickly moves one of his hands to your chin, so that you’re looking at him instead. When you make eye contact with him you can see that his eyes are full of worry and fear for your well-being. “Keep your eyes focused on me sweetheart,” He whispers, trying to keep you from looking at your injured body. You feel the tears in your eyes finally cascade down your cheeks as you whimper in pain, “everything hurts Warrick.” He gently wipes some of the tears off of your face, his voice shaky as he replies, “I know sweetheart, I know it hurts.”

He shakily grabs his police radio and talks into it. “Dispatch, requesting evac, officer down, we need emergency medical services.” He tells them your location and within seconds the dispatcher on the radio says, “backup and emergency medical services are on their way.” He places the police radio down, and turns all of his attention back towards you. “You hear that sweetheart? They’re on their way, everything’s gonna be okay.” His voice cracks through the middle of his sentence as tears of his own come to his eyes, causing your heart to shatter into a million pieces at the sight of him so worried and upset. He gently cups your face in his hands.  “Y-you’re gonna be okay,” he reassures you, but it sounds like he’s trying to reassure himself as well that you’ll be fine.

Your hand shakily moves to cup his cheek, “I-I guess we won’t be able to go on that date tonight huh?” Warrick chuckles ruefully and moves his hand to cover yours on his cheek. “D-don’t worry, we’ll go on that date later, when you get better.” You giggle sadly as well even though your chest burns every time you talk or take a deep breath. “I-I don’t think i’m gonna be able to make it to that date either way,” His breath catches at your words and shakes his head as tears run down his face faster and faster. “Don’t say that sweetheart, you’ll be fine,” 

As soon as he finishes his sentence, you can faintly hear sirens in the distance, the sound of them getting closer and closer almost like a sign of hope in your time of need. Warrick smiles gently as the sounds of the sirens get closer. “See?” He says shakily. “They’re almost here sweetheart, you’re gonna be okay.” He gently runs his fingers through your hair, a gesture which has comforted you both multiple times in the past whenever either of you were upset or stressed. The sirens sound like they’re almost to you now. You smile up weakly at him and gently wipe some of the tears running down his face while he keeps his hand on top of yours as you feel yourself start to get sleepy. “I love you,” you whisper, knowing that this might be the last time you can say it to him.

His eyes widen at your words and he realizes what you’re trying to say. “I-I love you too sweetheart, y-you’re going to be okay.” At this point tears are streaming down his face as he continues to shakily run his fingers through your hair. He leans down and gently kisses your forehead as your eyes start to close. The last things you hear are the sirens getting extremely loud and Warrick sobbing. “Come on Y/N you can’t die on me, I-I need you. I can’t and don’t want to think about a life without you in it, I-I’ve still got so much I want to say to you and show you. Please, I love you.” And then everything fades away.

As you slowly rouse from your dreamless slumber, the first thing you notice is the sound of steady beeping and the buzzing sound of fluorescent lights. As your body and mind slowly continue to wake up, the next thing you notice is the smell of antiseptic. The next thing you notice is the feeling of a mattress under you, and what feels like a thin blanket covering you up to your midsection. And finally, before you open your eyes you notice the feeling of something large and warm on top of your hand. It feels familiar, like you’ve felt it somewhere before.

You slowly open your eyes and take in your surroundings and realize that you’re in a room at the hospital. How long have you been here? How long have you been out? How badly hurt are you? Is Warrick okay? You feel your rushing thoughts come to a screeching halt at the thought of him and you feel your blood run cold. Is he okay? Is he safe? Oh god what if something happened to him after you passed out. The beeping on the heart monitor starts to spike as you continue thinking about Warrick and if he’s okay.

Your racing thoughts come to a pause when you feel something squeeze your hand and hear his soft voice. “Y/N?” You slowly look over to the left side of your bed and you finally see him. Warrick’s sitting in a chair right by your bed, His hand on top of yours. His eyes are wide and filled with surprise, happiness, and what looks to be tiredness? There are bags under his eyes. “W-Warrick?” you hoarsely call out to him.

Tears come to his eyes as you say his name and he gently squeezes your hand. “Y-You’re awake!” He smiles happily as tears run down his face, “how do you feel right now? Are you in any pain?” He asks, and you try to respond but your throat feels scratchy and dry as you try to talk, like you’ve been out in the desert for days without even a sip of water. He quickly notices and grabs a glass of water off of a little desk by your bed and gently raises the glass to your lips as you take multiple refreshing sips from the cup. When you’re done drinking he places the glass back down on the desk and turns back towards you.

Warrick smiles down gently at you, “i’m so happy that you’re awake, everybody was worried about you, The doctors weren’t sure when you were going to wake up, had us all real scared for a minute there. I-” He pauses, “o-on the ambulance ride here I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.” You feel his hand shake a little as he recalls the event. You gently squeeze his hand comfortingly and look him in the eyes. “I’m okay,” you try to reassure him, “a-at least I think i’m okay, I-I’m not really feeling any pain at all right now.” He smiles and nods and explains, “yeah the doctors said they gave you a couple of painkillers so you wouldn’t feel any pain when you woke up.”

You nod at his explanation, “so um-” you start, “what did the doctors say? What are my injuries?” He frowns at your question, “they said that you’ve got a concussion, two cracked ribs, and a sprained wrist. They also said that you were lucky that that was all you got from the fall. They said it could have been much worse.” His face darkens as he finishes his sentence, thinking about all the possibilities and how much worse it could have all been. You notice this and you gently squeeze his hand pulling him out of his spiraling thoughts. “Are you okay?” You ask, worried that something might have happened to him after you passed out.

He smiles sadly at your worry and nods, “physically yeah, mentally not so much.” You brows furrow in worry and you gently squeeze his hand, letting him decide if he wants to talk about it right now or not. He smiles gently at the action and takes a deep breath. “When you passed out in my arms I-I thought you died. I thought that I had lost you, the most precious person in the world to me, a-and I couldn’t do anything about it.” He takes a staggering breath as his eyes get misty as visions of your injured body run through his mind. “I-I felt helpless, like I was losing you and there was nothing I could do to stop it. That no matter what I did you were going to be ripped away from me and I-I felt like a failure, that I failed to protect the person most dearest to me and it killed me inside. I felt like I had lost a part of myself when I thought you died.”

Tears started rolling down his face again and you felt tears of your own come to your eyes as your heart broke at the sight of him like this. You gently move your hand up to his face and gently wipe his tears away. Letting him know that you don’t plan on leaving his side anytime soon. He smiles gently at the action and he gently kisses the palm of your hand as thanks. “We um, we got him Y/N, Nigel Crane is in custody, He’s never going to be able to hurt anyone ever again.” You smile at the good news, “that’s great.” He smiles and leans down and gently kisses you. The kiss is soft and gentle, like he worries that if he makes any wrong moves you’ll shatter in his hands like glass. However, there is a sense of gentle passion as you both convey how worried you were for the other and how happy you both are that the other is okay. During the kiss he gently cups your face in his large hands. After a couple of seconds, he pulls away from you and smiles lovingly as you both lay your head against the others, neither of you ready to separate from the other yet.

 He smiles gently, “I love you, but don’t you ever scare me like that again you hear me?” You giggle and smile gently at his words, “I promise, I love you too.” He smiles at your promise and gently kisses your forehead and presses his face against the top of your head, “good.” His arms gently wrap around you, being wary of how fragile you are right now. You smile and feel yourself relax and melt into his loving embrace. “So about that date.”

[hiimtracher]

ok so you might have noiticed that i draw the apocalypse au now

so let me talk about the people

when it comes to someone they can be two things

blessed or normal

blessed people can change into monsters that are based on what they fear the most exept for those who don't fear anything then they will become what they love the most as a reward

also the whole nigels family is blessed but most of them are dead

so that is why i drew roach and Ernie as monsters

the thing between them is that Ernie has a fear and roach doesn't

Ernests biggest fear is being watched in the darkness after one time when he had a stalker, also this means that the apocalypse is makeing him constantly stressed and fearful even as a monster

and then the normal people are just people who try to survive the best they can

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 569, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby

WORDS: 1173

“Hey there mama, Peter!” Ken Anderson greeted us during breaktime. “I was wondering if we could perhaps have the babies be in the final?”

“All of the babies or just some of them?” I arched an eyebrow.

“Some of them,” he clarified. “I was thinking maybe Baby Tommy, Baby Eve and one or two of the triplets, and of course, Elizabeth and Katie!”

“And little girl, too?” Peter looked excited.

“Only if it’ll be alright with their daddies!” he smiled happily as Trick or Treat Lament was being ran through. Elizabeth and Katie would be sharing the role of Shock the witch girl, alternating girl every night. The roles of Lock would be played by Ken Anderson’s nephews and the role of Barrel would be shared by two boys from separate ensemble members’ families.

“I’ll call up James after we get home, alright?” I asked him from my place on my husband’s lap. I had been pleasantly surprised by Peter’s strong acting talent, and had asked him about it.

“My mom had enrolled me in acting from the ages of seven until fourteen, when I started high school,” he shrugged modestly. “I only stopped because I joined football, but I oftentimes wish that I had kept it up- I’m a bit rusty I feel.”

“Just a tad bit, my love!” I giggled, tucking my head underneath his chin as he encircled his hands around my slender waist. “But it’s honestly nothing that can bring me to hate you!”

“I should hope not,” he snarled before baring his fang playfully at me and going to nibble and kiss my neck.

“And throw away they keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey…” belted out Elizabeth, playing the witch girl, Nigel Ben Anderson play the devil child and Tony St. Williams playing the skeleton boy. “Throw away the key!” The three of them burst into childish giggles after the song.

“Brilliant, absolutely brilliant!” grinned Ken Anderson. “And now, let’s run through the opening!”

The narrator stepped up and ran through his opening the show before everyone started to sing, really bringing the citizens of Halloween Town to life.

And before I knew it, it was one in the afternoon, and Ken Anderson ended the first day with a rousing round of cheers and applause.

“Tomorrow, we can start with the choreography, and I’ll also wrangle the rest of the production crew to come in and meet everybody!” he grinned happily as everyone began to pack up.

“Hey Ken? Do you want us to bring the babies tomorrow?” I asked him.

“Oh, yes please mama!” Ken Anderson begged excitedly. “I just love babies!”

“You and much of the earth’s population!” I teased him with a laugh. “But hey- if the babies are going to be here, then the sitter will need to come also to supervise. Also, my baby sister is staying with us do to some medical issues, so-”

“Bring them both- hell- bring everyone!” Ken laughed, bending to pat the top of my head affectionately before shooing me off.

I let out an excited squeak before scrambling to join my husband and two daughters before leaving the rehearsal hall, making an automatic beeline for my husband’s car, the four of us chattering and giggling as we quickly settled ourselves before Peter pulled out from his parking spot and quickly merged into the flow of traffic.

“Sweetheart, I think your sister and Isabelle will need to ride in a separate vehicle tomorrow,” my husband rumbled, breaking easily and slowing at the sight of a police officer with his car pulled off to the shoulder, the hood opened and smoking violently. “Jesus… hold on, sweetheart- I’m going to offer my help.”

“Go on, my love! Be someone else’s prince charming!” I laughed as he parked a little ways ahead of the cop car, then got out to lend a hand.

I watched as he tinkered around on the car for ten minutes, keeping up a conversation the whole while until a tow truck rolled up to take the car in, a second cop car pulling up for the police officer to reload an older man whose pants were around his knees, showcasing a hideously hairy ass.

“Ew,” Katie said, having apparently gotten an eyeful by accident. “Mommy, does daddy have a hairy butt?”

I burst into laughter at her words and the disgusted look on Elizabeth’s face- both combined was just hysterical.

I was laughing so hard that I was crying when Peter got back into the car. He turned to face me with a concerned look over his handsomely bearded face.

“Daddy, do you have a hairy butt?”

“Katie, don’t be rude.” The look on his face was comical as he very clearly had a midlife crisis, and I found myself unable to stop my laughter.

“Katie, you’re being gross,” Elizabeth piped in just then.

“Sorry Lizz Lizz,” Katie apologized meekly.“Dorogaya, u menya volosataya zadnitsa?” Peter asked me in Russian. “U tebya nemnogo putanitsy,” I shrugged as he turned off of the freeway and onto the road that led up to our house. “No u Josh na zadnitse boroda.” 

“Don’t I know sweetheart, don’t I know,” he chuckled, turning into our driveway and pausing as the garage door opened.

“Hey wolf moon, come cast your spell on me,” I sniggered as he parked and killed the ignition.“No ty lyubish' moy bol'shoy volchiy chlen,” he snarled, shooting a smoldering gaze my way. “Pravil'no dorogaya?” 

My panties were automatically sopping wet.

Dorogaya, u menya volosataya zadnitsa, sweetheart do I have a hairy ass, Russian

U tebya nemnogo putanitsy, you have a little bit of fuzz, Russian

No u Josh na zadnitse boroda, but Josh has a beard on his ass, Russian

Pravil'no dorogaya, right sweetheart, Russian 

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

[ilkkawhat]

I know I’m slow on the uptake on this but I’ve been doing a csi rewatch and it just clicked that the random citizen that submitted the crime stopper thing that Nick felt invaded his privacy was the stalker. Wow, how did I never process that lol

honestly...i never made that connection either...I always just thought it was literally just a random person that nick was kind to cause which granted, i know he's probably kind to pretty much everybody but man nigel would totally hold that over his head too, "i'm the one who recognized you for who you really are and all the good that goes unnoticed" etc while also pretending like he's the same way, seeing the good in people when we all know nigel takes that uh...in the wrong direction lol

maybe that's even how his first tape, or at least one of the first tapes started, with him fawning over that crime stopper article bragging about how he did that for nick (and maybe making a passive aggressive comment that nick hasn't thanked him for it yet)

[minks-country-club]

OMG I NEED TO READ A FANFIC WHERE ADAM IS A CREEPY LITTLE STALKER CRUSHING ON NIGEL. RIGHT FUCKING NOW.

[dionysus2xborn]

Not the twilight song being perf for Like Minds - Nigel/Alex!!! Also the other song I used to listen back to back with it, back in the day, OOF! So perf ima go share in the comments of my fav fic that’s these energies!

omfg omfg stfu this song is LEGIT perf for them Also IAMX I come with knives 😏🔪🗡️😈

This would make a slay ass edit too

Tries not to laugh and cry while listening to this song thinking of them and hand sing 😭🤌🏻

[upwords1990]

Holmes In America: A Sherlock/Holmes mystery #1 https://a.co/d/0iKYsSHp

Karen Vaughan

Nigel Holmes is a British Police Officer sent to Toronto after a witness was brutally murdered on his watch. Kristen Sherlock is a Detective who was framed for drug possession, and is being harassed by a dirty cop bent on ruining her. Nigel is politically incorrect and swears like a trucker. Kristen is a by-the-book Police Officer. Can they work together without driving each other nuts before her stalker hurts Kristen? Nigel, Kristen and her former partner, Craig, work to bring the stalker down.

#mystery#humor#detective

[lyricallygames]

Behind the Lyrics: One Way Or Another by Blondie

"One Way or Another" is a song by the American new wave band Blondie. It was released in 1978 as a single from their third studio album, "Parallel Lines." The song was written by band members Debbie Harry and Nigel Harrison and produced by Mike Chapman.

The lyrics of "One Way or Another" describe a person's obsessive pursuit of someone they desire.

The protagonist sings about all the ways they are willing to track down and capture their object of affection, stating that they will find them "one way or another" and that they will get them in the end. The song's upbeat and catchy melody contrasts with the stalker-like lyrics, making it a popular and memorable tune.

Blondie was formed in 1974 in New York City and became one of the most successful bands of the new wave and punk rock scenes of the late 1970s and early 1980s. The band's lineup included lead vocalist Debbie Harry, guitarist Chris Stein, drummer Clem Burke, keyboardist Jimmy Destri, and bassist Nigel Harrison. Their unique sound blended elements of punk, pop, disco, and reggae, and their songs often featured socially conscious lyrics and feminist themes.

Blondie achieved mainstream success with hits such as "Heart of Glass," "Call Me," "Rapture," and "The Tide Is High." They disbanded in 1982 but reunited in the late 1990s and continue to perform and record new music. Debbie Harry remains one of the most iconic figures in rock and roll history, known for her distinctive voice, striking looks, and fearless attitude.

Follow Lyrically Games to relive memorable concerts, insights into song lyrics, and music history.

[nigel-banyai]

Nigel nods, playing at the harpsichord, keys in no random order to no song in particular, if you could even call it a song, his eyes flickering over the keys, before looking to Hannibal's hands,

"You do enjoy wine, could see your wine cabinet when I walked in, kind of.. worrisome how much wine you have, but who am I to judge?" He chuckled softly before letting out a deep sigh, shoulders falling back down, tip of his nose scrunched when he was accused of being a stalker, which wouldn't be necessarily untruthful, but to Nigel he wasn't stalking Hannibal with Ill intentions, as creepy as it might be.

"Yeah, no.. no, m' not stalking you, Lecter, I just find you interesting and we happen to frequent some of the places, you are a busy man are you not? I just got here, and I'm just exploring the area, heard that shop was good and stopped by. Was too nervous to go in though."

Nigel shifted uncomfortably in his spot, staring at the art on the wall now, but not leaving Hannibal's side to go look at it, not yet.

"You go to art shows and buy art? Or do you get someone to make art for you?" He questioned with a raised eye row

Nigel huffed, grumbling as Hannibal read him to a perfect 'T' which upset him yet again, so he sucked in a sharp breath before looking away and frowning, "Ugh..." he grumbled, then played a c major scale, shifting from side to side, before standing up and moving his hand away, eyes flickering to Hannibal's face again, staring into his eyes before he got red and looked away, agitated yet again for no particular reason, "Yeah? you attend the opera a lot, should tag along with you sometime then, see what it's like and such, I haven't been to the one here yet, just got here a few weeks ago, scouting around and looking at places - seen you around quite a bit at a wine shop, sell cheese, but not interested in going in myself, just thought it was interesting, what else do they have there?" he lifted his head up again, reaching up and scratching behind his left ear before dropping it down lower to rub over his neck where the tattoo was, it was in pretty good condition considering how old it was, the ink faded slightly to show age, but Nigel took good care of it, he also had a tattoo across his pointer finger, Latin 'invictus' for Invincible - Nigel had another tattoo on his chest, but Hannibal couldn't see that one in his vision yet, for now at least. "Could of stormed out if I wanted to, could even hit you or shoot you, but it would've been stupid, I don't need a trail on me again, nor do I ..." he paused, trying to think over his words, "I don't want you in.. - to suffer at my hands either." he finished with, proving Hannibal's point that the man didn't want him to leave.