quick lil kyle blurb
“i still don’t understand how this revival thing works.” you mumble as you stare at the blonde boy in-front of you, his fingers messing with a beaded bracelet you gave him earlier.
you had been left to watch him while the rest of the house went out, which you didn’t know why they picked you out of everyone.
“so, uhm, kyle?” you cleared your throat while pushing yourself off the wall, grabbing the laptop zoe left and sat down across from him on the floor, placing it in his lap and gently slipped the headphones onto his ears. “we’re just gonna do that..”
despite giving him clear directions his hands tugged off the headphones, shaking his head as he pushed the laptop back your way.
“okay, none of that then.” you sigh and looked back at him, seeing he was staring at you, almost like he was scared you would disappear.
“pretty..” he mumbled under his breath, watching the obvious hear rise to your face.
surely he didn’t know what he just said, right? he was practically zoe’s boyfriend, but now he was calling you pretty.
“thanks, kyle.” you spoke with a slightly forced smile, standing up and put the laptop back onto the bed, sighing while running a hand over your face.
today would be a long day.
that scene where rafe puts the gun in his waistband……
so excited!!
🝮 made by me 🝮
tate langdon x fem!reader
summary: Tate, your obsessive boyfriend, traps you in the Murder House on Halloween
warnings: nsfw, bondage, gagging, asphyxiation, pills, death, manipulation
a/n: hello, hola, bonjour, marhaban !! this ‘oneshot’ will probably be longer than any other one i’ve written since there’s a lot that goes into it. I know Tate is a crowd favorite (and one of my favorites), so i wanted to make this as descriptive as possible! love you, love you, love you, and i hope you enjoy this oneshot <3
Spirits were real. You knew it for sure. Especially because your obsessive, clingy boyfriend was one. Tate Langdon. He’d been your friend since you moved to the infamous Murder House. You’d never see him leave the house, or come in. One day you had enough and confronted him. Tate hesitantly admitted he wasn’t alive, but you didn’t believe him. That was, until you saw how he died, and the events leading up to his passing…You knew Tate was dangerous, a man that could strike at any moment in time. He could kill you. But that’s what you were drawn to, right?
”Alright honey, we’re leaving. Don’t answer the door,” Your mom chuckled, clinging to your dad as they were both ready to head out to a halloween party.
“Joyce, don’t tell her that. It’s Halloween,” Your dad retorted to your mom. Your mother scoffed, ultimately starting a small debate with your father on the crime rate of LA, especially on Halloween. You crossed your arms, staring up the staircase of the house. A figure swooped by quickly, running across the hallway of the house. You stumbled back subtly, swearing on your life you just saw something move. You parents ignored you, of course. They didn’t much care for the paranormal bullshit rambles of their daughter.
Your parents finally headed out the door. ‘Finally. Some alone time without the constant bickering.’ you thought to yourself. You stood in the doorway of your bedroom, eyeing your walls with great care, wondering what you could do to spice up your boring-ass, half unpacked bedroom.
You felt a presence behind you. Something dark. Something malevolent. A black, latex hand grabbed your waist, the second hand going over your mouth. ‘oh shit. this is how it ends.’ you panicked. The figure pushed you against the wall, keeping its hand clasped over your mouth. It’s free hand pinned your wrists above your head. The figure was complete black latex from head to toe. You whimper into its hand, turning your head as you prepared for the kiss of death. It took its hands off of you and took off the black hood. It was Tate, your boyfriend.
“Hey, Y/n,” He smiled, grabbing your face as he pulled you into a kiss. The moment you saw him, your panic subsided. It was a shitty prank, sure, but it was just Tate. No extreme reason to worry.
“Tate,” You groan with a chuckle after pulling away from the kiss You noticed he was wearing a backpack for some reason. Maybe it had candy? “Why’re you wearing that shit?”
That ‘shit’ that Tate was wearing was an old sex suit that you found when your family first moved into the Murder House. It was sitting in the attic, along with a few other kinky things. Tate was currently rocking it, his toned figure showing out against the tight latex. You leaned into him as he kissed the side of your face.
“I dunno. Thought it was funny,” Tate smirked, ruffling your hair playfully. He pulled you into a hug, and you leaned into it. Tate’s hands made their way down your figure, grazing your back. His hands cupped your ass and squeezed a little, making you squeak softly.
You pushed him back with a smile, grabbing your flip phone. “I gotta head out, my friends invited me,” You smile, dodging past him slightly. Tate grabbed your wrist, a hurt look in his dark eyes.
“Woah, what? I thought we were gonna spend Halloween together..?” Tate asked, cocking his head with a feigned look of confusion on his face. There he goes again, manipulating you. You never once planned to spend Halloween with him. For months, you and your friends have planned on hanging out, and now Tate was manipulating you again.
“When did we agree to that?” You chuckle, slightly confused.
“Last week,” He lied, grabbing both your wrists and pulling you closer. “Don’t you remember, Y/n?”
You shook your head. Tate grabbed your shoulders, pushing you backwards into your room. He forced you down to your bed, pinning your wrists on either side of your head.
“C’mon, Tate,” You say nervously, looking up at him with furrowed brows. Tate straddled you, keeping your wrists pinned down.
“Y/n, you’re not going anywhere. You’re gonna spend Halloween with me, okay?” Tate said shakily. He threw his backpack off, setting it next to him. Tate sat on your stomach, pinning your wrists down with his knees. You struggled slightly, hoping to get away from him.
“Moira!” You call, hoping to get the attention of your housekeeper, Moira. She was a kind, caring soul, but also a bit cold. Luckily for you, she liked you more than she liked your family or any of the other ghosts in the house. Tate pulls out a red ball gag, shoving it into your mouth before securing it at the back of your head. He moved your hair, prodding you like you were one of those porcelain dolls.
“Shh..calm down, Y/n..” Tate cooed, stroking your cheek with his knuckles. You whimpered into the gag, looking up at him with scared eyes.
“Hey-! You know i won’t hurt you!” Tate said sternly, shaking your shoulder. He took your wrists and handcuffed them to the bars of your headboard. You watched him pace the room, looking through his backpack. Tate was nervous himself, but the scared look on your face make him feel even worse. Tate pulled a small pill bottle out of his bag. He rushed back over to you, holding the bottle.
Tate sat next to your bound body on the bed, cupping your cheek in his hand. His other hand held the pill bottle in front of you. “Y/n, Y/n, look. I need you to take these, okay?”
Tate pulled the gag out of your mouth so you could speak. You hyperventilated, looking up at the boy who was supposed to take care of you, supposed to love you. He took his hand off of your face and grabbed your throat, tightening his hand around it. He held your throat tightly and popped the cap off of the bottle.
“Tate, I don’t wanna..” You cry. Tate grabs your throat tighter, looking down at you with tears in his eyes.
“No, c’mon Y/n! If you take ‘em, we’ll be together forever, okay?” Tate spoke quickly, clearly in a panic. You shook your head, whimpering.
“Just open your fucking mouth,” Tate growled, pushing your jaw down with one latex hand while the other shoved two little white and blue pills into your mouth. He forced them down so far that you had no choice but to swallow them.
“Swallow…Swallow them, babe. Swallow them and we can be together,” Tate cooed as you coughed and cried, your tears soaking your face. Once you swallowed the pills, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth.
Tate wrapped his hands around your neck, closing them tightly. His fingers dug into your neck, closing your airways. You looked up at him, wide eyes as you gasped for the air that you’d never receive again after this moment. Tate looked at you, swallowing hard. His warm, salty tears fell onto your face. He was sobbing now, sobbing as his fingers tightened around your throat.
“I’m sorry…I’m sorry, Y/n, but this was the only way…” Tate cried softly. His hands tightened as hard as they could. Harder and harder and harder until your airways snapped in your throat. Tate took his hands off your throat the moment he heard your airway collapse. He gasped, tears continuing to fall like a flood from his eyes Tate brushed his fingers over your eyelids, making sure they were closed.
“You’ll wake up in a few days, okay?” Tate sniffled, kissing your neck. He stroked your hair, kissing all over your neck and face as he cried. “I’m sorry..but we’ll be together now, okay…? You and me forever, Y/n..”
in regards to perv!marauders . . . theyd so get off on the more innocent pics of you— it could be a polaroid of you smiling and it’d be covered in cum by the end of the summer bcos your innocence is so hot to them
i am losing my mind at the thought of this. the mere thought of corrupting you torments perv!marauders and something about the contrast of their filth paired with your seemingly pure disposition makes their cock throb.
the photo usually always comprises you beaming, presumably looking up at them through the camera, batting your eyelashes prettily, looking so radiant and cute. i can picture a photo of you leaning against their palm, their large hands caressing your cheek while you peer up at them. maybe it’s that sleepy look of yours; maybe it’s your flushed face or your puffy, watery eyes; or perhaps it’s the gloss on your lips that makes you look so girly and kissable that has them groaning into their pillow as they fist their aching cock late into the night, feverish and frantic to cum to the sight of you.
it's not only your innocence that gets them off, but it's the thought of ruining it that drives them to the edge. all of them would repeatedly fantasize about making you just as desperate as they are for you. they want nothing more than for you to look up at them—a betrayed, foggy look in your lust-filled eyes—begging them to take you again because three rounds simply aren’t enough and you're far too addicted to their cocks stretching out your ruined cunt to stop.
bf
When he isn’t pulling an expression and actually serves face so hard.
*Gif not mine*
Pairings: Mitch Marner x gf!reader
Summary: You get Mitch’s number tattooed right above your ass.
Word count: 606
Warnings: fluff, ass slapping mentioned🫢, Mitch getting handsy, jealous Mitch.
Requested: no
Note: totally based off of One Tree Hill season one episode nineteen. Also keep sending requests
Reckless decisions.
One sober fun night out with the girls caused me to end up at a tattoo parlour and get the number sixteen tatted right above my ass. I made them swear to secrecy that they wouldn’t tell Mitch nor bring it up.
I’ve been hiding it from Mitch by keeping my pants high waisted and since Mitch is an ass guy, it makes it harder to hide it. Late at night, I’m sitting at my desk trying to get some emails answered. Mitch walks into the room. “Hi baby,” He greets taking a seat on the bed.
“Take a break.” He tells me in a whining tone. “I’ve got to get this done.” I try explaining, pulling the back of my shirt down. “It’s getting late and you’ve been answering emails all day.” Mitch slams his head back on a pillow.
I look over to the clock notice that it’s half past eleven, deciding that it’s getting late I shut off my computer and lay down on Mitch. I wrap my arms around him and rest my chin on his chest, looking up at him, batting my eyelashes.
“You’re pretty.” He coo’s, pulling my hair behind my ears. I blush in response, snuggling into his chest. “We should get to bed.” I yawn into his chest, unraveling my arms from him getting up and walk away with my back facing him.
Walking out of the bathroom makeup free and a set of pyjamas on, I settle myself into bed waiting for Mitch to get ready as well. “Babe,” Mitch calls softly getting onto bed. “If you ever did something you’d tell me right?” I furrow my brows, panic rising at the fear of him seeing the tattoo.
“Of course I would.” I respond quickly, turning my back to him on the comfortable side I sleep on drifting off to a dreamless sleep.
The sound of a shifting body and the bed moving with it wakes my mind and ears up but I have yet to open my eyes. Slowly opening my eyes I turn to the right seeing Mitch’s bare back facing me, clearly tense.
“Mitch.” I whisper, resting on my elbow caressing his back. Mitch’s back flex’s at my touch. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks in a low voice, turning to look at me. Confused I sit up, leaning on the headboard. “What do you mean?”
“The tattoo Y/N, the tattoo with my number right above your ass.” He grumbles, sitting right beside me. “Mitch, it’s just a tattoo. It was one decision and I made it.” I try to explain. “It’s not about the tattoo, it’s the fact that I wasn’t there and some guys hands were all over your.” He glares.
A smile graces my face realizing that Mitch is jealous. “Mitch, are you jealous?” I ask tilting my head and crawl into his lap. Mitch places his hands on my hips without thinking, pulling my closer. I rest my hands on his chest waiting for his answer.
“Just wish I was there.” He mumbles, tightening his grip. “Well if you must know, it was a girl.” I say laughing quietly. He furrows his brows in confusion. “A nice woman did the tattoo.” I explain, running my hands up his chest.
“Fuck, so all of this for that.” He sighs, grasping my ass. “Technically you’re the one who took it far.” I retort, squealing as his squeezes my ass. “But you were a bad girl for getting it without me there.” Mitch changes position so I’m laying against his legs with my ass in the air.
“Start counting.”
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alec volturi masterlist
🧸 - trigger warning! read at your own risk.
💌 - smut/implied smut
adorable
anxiety 🧸
always and forever
always been you
baker
bite
clumsy little human
confession
confide
coven crest
cuddles
driven mad
favourites
fear 🧸
first kiss
first meetings (i) (ii) 🧸
gentle loving 💌
hard day
human mishaps
hurt
insomnia 💌
kitchen counter 💌
moments before bedtime
night visits
night terrors
protection
softly
sunlight in a dark room (i) (ii)
sweet moments
tease 💌
the chase
vulnerable bliss
🏹headcanons🏹
dating headcanons 💌
🏹blurbs🏹
aftercare
thinking the castle is haunted
having anxiety when he has to leave for a mission
valentines day
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“I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise. You probably don't remember but I was really serious about building that gorgeous house with the big yard. The house on a hill where you could see the sea, with a designer kitchen and a studio in the basement and piles of clothes in your closet, all the latest fashions of course.”
James Kelly to reader after he finally comes back from jail but they have already moved on!!:(