it's sometime around 3am when you wake up, hiccupping wails coming from the next room where your baby is - was - alseep in their nursery. before you can even fully register what you're hearing, whitney is out of bed and on his feet, turning to straighten the blanket out to cover you.

"whit?"

when he sees you staring blearily at him, he clicks his tongue.

"go back to sleep, i'll sort it."

still, you raise up on your elbows, shuffling closer to the headboard to sit up, only to be stopped by the soft thump of a scatter pillow landing on your lap. 

"i'm serious. get some more sleep before you have to be up for work." you've known whitney long enough to recognise the caring edge to his authoritative tone, so you settle back down under the covers while he leaves the room.

you can vaguely hear him cooing and shushing the baby as you fall back to sleep. 

it's 7am when your alarm goes off and you wake up properly.

the bed next to you is cold and empty, whitney's phone still charging on the nightstand. your morning routine only affords you a little bit of extra time before you absolutely have to get ready and leave for your commute, but you decide to check on your husband nonetheless - even after having a child together, whitney is still guarded around you more often than not, and catching him unawares is worth the risk of being late. so, you toe on your slippers and pad out of the room into the nursery, and-

you can't help the involuntary chuckle you let out at the sight in front of you. 

whitney is sprawled out on the floor, his torso and upper legs barely covered by one of the crocheted blankets robin had gifted you. one of his hands is slipped between the wooden slats of your baby's crib, arm limp from sleep and yet still clasping one of your child's chubby little hands. 

you watch the rise and fall of his steady breaths, listen to the sleepy murmurs of your baby as they lay curled up in their crib, their tiny hand grasped by their father's, and you stand there for so long that - when you finally end up getting ready and dashing off to work - you miss your bus. 

omg, imagine, House husband!Whitney??? Whitney who cook for you cute n delicious meals? Whitney who is ok as cleaning but not really because he's kinda lazy? Whitney who proudly take his todler out for a stroll at the park?Just house husband!Whitney my beloved

You thought the blonde couldn't cook when you married him. When he insists on staying home, of letting you be the bread winner, of being a house husband, you think he's joking.

He's completely serious.

The first time Whitney shoves a packed lunch into your hands and sends you off to work, you bring extra money with you so you can buy something actually palatable. You've never seen Whitney cook, but you're pretty sure you'd rather take your chances with a sandwich from a vending machine. Still, you'll try what Whitney made you, if just so you can say you did. You're completely thrown by the cute meal you find. Carrots shaped into little flowers, slices of sausage cut into little octopi? What? Whitney made this? Your Whitney? The guy who bites you more than he kisses you? Who you can count on one hand how many times you've heard him say he loves you? That Whitney?!

And it's all so good! You'd expected an inedible mess, not a cute home made lunch!

You actually sneak into the kitchen late one night just to make sure this isn't some elaborate prank or something, only to find Whitney with his fringe clipped back, wearing a simple apron and humming to himself as he makes your lunch for the next day.

Bring up to Whitney how cute his meals are and he balks. Whitney's meals aren't cute. They aren't! Don't tell Whitney you think his meals are cute or he'll stop making them. Also don't bring up how surprised you are that he can actually cook or he's pinning you to the nearest surface so he can fuck your brains out. You can't keep insulting/complementing Whitney if you're too cumbrained to speak.

When you decide to have children, you're surprised yet again when Whitney claims he'll take care of them. But, there he goes, off on an afternoon stroll with the kids. You find him napping on the couch with your child sleeping on his chest. You've even walked in on him baby talking them, only to drop the cutesie voice when he noticed you.

You're almost grateful that Whitney never tries to take on the cleaning. You're not sure how many surprises you can take.

it's stupid.

whitney isn't the type for house parties, surprisingly. she's no stranger to being the center of attention - thrives on it, actually - so unless it's a party at her house, she's not interested. besides, she'd rather just go to the pub, or even just shoplift some lambrini and drink in the park. 

still, here she is in some random living room, a fridge-chilled bottle of bulmer's in her hand, nails clinking against the glass in time with the shitty music (probably some old clubland mix. house party music always sounds the same.) 

she's only here by coincidence, really. she'd been looking for you at lunch when she found you and - rowan? robin? whatever. your friend from the orphanage - being chatted up by whats-her-face from maths: blah blah 18th birthday party blah blah bring drinks blah blah see you there! the two of you had practically been bouncing with excitement - two little naive nerds like you and robin would have been easy pickings for any creeps at the party, so whitney had to invite herself along to keep an eye on you, obviously. it's not like she had any ulterior motive for it either; she wasn't wondering how you'd look dressed up for a party, wasn't interested in being your date or plus one or anything like that. she just wanted to make sure her slut wasn't going to get in trouble. 

she was right to worry (not that she was worried, really, but still. she was right.) 

she'd waited outside on domus street to pick you up - proper nice of her and everything, going out of her way for you like that - so you could walk there in a group to avoid being hassled. when she glanced up from her phone, she hadn't expected to see you tottering down the path in heels and a tight red dress that barely skimmed your thighs. 

you looked...nice. definitely nice. nice enough that whitney had already decided she would take you off to the bathroom or spare room or somewhere later tonight and find some fun ways to ruin the makeup you'd applied so prettily. nice enough that she was sure other people would notice and, as much as she liked showing you off, that thought left her feeling a little sick in a way that she didn't want to fully acknowledge. 

the metal chain of your bracelet dug into whitney's palm as she grabbed your wrist and pulled you along so quickly you were almost staggering, robin fretting over you as they tried to keep you upright. the walk there felt almost too quick. maybe next time, she'd invite you over for pre-drinks, just you and her. maybe she'd even let you get ready at her house, listening to music and drinking wine together as you fixed each other's hair. (is that what you and robin had done? did robin help you zip your dress up, or cup your jaw in one hand while they applied your lipstick?) 

you and robin had gone off to get drinks while whitney makes herself comfortable on the couch, elbows spread to stop anyone sitting too close on either side of her. you'd come back briefly to hand her a drink before migrating off to the impromptu dancefloor in the dining room, arms up and swaying side to side with robin while some stupid pitbull song played. the cheap blinking fairylights on the wall cast a glow over your hair, red and green, orange and blue. whitney scowls into her drink when she realises she couldn't take her eyes off of you. she wants to call you over, have you sit on her lap, bare thighs touching where your dresses had both ridden up. she wants to have people see you with her, not clinging onto robin and laughing while you dance with them.

so, yeah. it's stupid. 

Another bit of an experimental piece that was rewritten from another character.  

🩸 Bloody Mary Whitney🩸 as a yandere GN- Reader SFW

Appearance 

His eyes are sunken in and nearly hollow looking around the sockets with how dark they are around them. His eyes are bleach white and have a light trail to them as he moves. 

His head always seems to be bleeding continuously. Even if he wipes it away, it still flows down his face thickly enough to cover one eye. There doesn’t seem to be a wound, it just drips from beneath his bangs. 

His veins are blood in color and look pronounced on his face. His lips are black and his fingernails are long, monstrous, and covered in blood, like he had been clawing at something and his fingers were still covered in gore.

He floats, not seemingly having feet and doesn’t move his lower body much. He hovers around in the mirrors. And when he smiles, his teeth are bleached bone white and razor sharp.

Sealed with mirrors

Since his death, he’s grown more and more hateful as the years went by and he was left to stew in his own anger from his early demise. He hated seeing people get to laugh blissfully and freely move while he was trapped in the confines of reflections. He grew more and more frightful looking as his hate grew, and he’d grown to like his monstrous self. 

Those who summon him, Whitney, follow their presence, waiting for when he can devour them using their reflections. Grinning as he drags his claws over the reflection in the mirror, he watches their true bodies bleed as they scream and fall over in pain. 

How to truly summon him has been lost through word of mouth and many times it’s a weak summon. It was only enough for him to weakly flicker into their mirror. Every time it happens, it only angers him more. 

Whenever he torments humans and devours them wholly, he feels so much at ease.

Spending time with you

You had done it as a kid, with your friends, or by yourself. It didn’t matter. You had seen something, while your friends didn’t. Later in life, you remember it and try it again to see if it was just nerves. Do it again and look up the details. You try it once more and your face starts melting and everything seems nauseating. You open your eyes to see him smiling at you. 

He laughs at you and tells you how he remembers you as a kid and how he was so close to eating you but there was magical protection around you. It’s probably a blessing from an ancestor or something along those lines, but he’s so excited to have you in his grasp this time. 

You can feel his touch, but looking at your shoulder, it’s not there truly. You see him try to break skin but he doesn’t, and he’s shocked, trying again and again only for it to fail. He pouts and smiles, telling you if he can’t hurt you or eat you, he’ll make your life hell. 

He knocks things from your hands, making them spill all over the ground. He slices wires on electronics if you don’t keep your mirrors away. And he laughs at your misfortune. But after seeing someone else ruin your day, he gets angry. Only he’s allowed to do that. When you get home, he’s quick to suddenly pull you into his arms in whatever reflection he can find. He suddenly feels jealous, reminded that even he can’t freely mess with you and it eats him up inside.

Eventually, he starts just trying to be more of a factor in your life, not just causing problems but moving things and making life easier in some aspects, so you pay attention to him more. If you bring it up, he grits his teeth and refuses to answer.

He now sees that he just craves your attention. I hate that part of him. He’s grown attached to the point where you make him forget he’s mirror bound. He wants you to be around as long as possible.      

Dark tendencies 

So long as you’re in the reflection, he can finally act out against people who touch you or make him jealous. He’ll rip their hair, claw their faces, backs or whatever he can reach or throw them down to bite and tear at them. He likes to smile proudly at the damage he caused. 

He savors any attention you give him. He carves it since he has nothing else. Scream at him, love him, just please pay attention to him. He just needs to feel like he exists. 

Try and ignore him and he’ll happily remind you that you summoned him. It’s your fault for everything and you need to take responsibility.   

fem! kylar and fem!pc hits different

just two gals being pals.

Doing each other's make-up, sitting in each other's laps, sharing clothes, sleeping in the same bed, stealing kisses throughout the day, holding hands, no one looking twice when you go into the bathroom together or slip into the same stall to try on clothes at the shops. Kylar whispering how you're the most beautiful girl in the world. How she's so incredibly lucky that she has you in her life.

Turns into a puddle of mush if you tell her she's pretty. Goes completely red in the face if you call her beautiful. Can't keep eye contact if you call her gorgeous. Says you must be exaggerating because you are all those things, not her. Starts crying when you reassure her that no, she is those things. That she can't say those things about herself because you love her and it hurts you when she's mean to herself.

sorry for the absence everyone, i was having a rough time at work but hopefully im back now 💘

like i KNOW whitney could go the route of gettjng even worse, but the moments at the park where whitney and pc are all alone and just chatting with them has them all soft and smiling behind their cigarette??? it could also swing the way of them grounding themselves now that they have a reason to, because for all that they torment their favorite slut, i don’t think whitney is even close to the worst irredeemable thing pc experiences. sure they’ll still whore pc out for fun but is it really a punishment if pc themselves is out there every friday night putting on a show where they fuck a horse?? whitney who for the fuck of it moves to the farm with pc because they think fucking them in hay would be fun and initially does nothing but make pc’s life harder. but then they get bored and for fun they start doing shit. and shit, they’re either really good at it - or now they’re determined to be better just to rub it in your face. and you can’t tell me whitney wouldn’t have the time of their life fighting off random goons. all im saying is for all whitney bitches and causes mayhem and bullies pc, i think they could easily trap THEMSELVES into domesticity if they accidentally trick themselves into thinking it’s all for shits and giggles. before they know it they’re in too deep and sunkissed, waking up at the crack ass of dawn pressed against pc in the cottage, and just before they drag pc to their knees to get them off they’re thinking of how those cabbages they planted are THE best motherfucking cabbages in town and everyone fucking knows it, and whitney just. freezes. when it finally dawns on them. bonus points for the first few months of sleepy ass whitney at 5 am all but swaying on their feet, fully laying their weight on pc and demanding they make them coffee, while alex ignores both of them and cheerily makes everyone some breakfast.

obsessed with this!! whitney becoming more and more unwilling to leave pc because they have fun with you, even when theyre not having sex. whitney is still whitney, of course, still likes to antagonise you, still likes to do stuff that'll piss their dad off, but they can't help the way they soften around the edges when they're alone with you, almost like they can really be themselves for a moment.

it's their sense of ownership over you that makes them move into the farm cottage, they claim; can't have their slut avoiding them just because you have a job out of town now. plus, whitney won't have to live with their parents anymore which is an absolute dream. the cottage is small enough that they have to share a room with you, sleeping in the same bed every night; and actually just sleeping, most nights, whitney's wandering, groping hands eventually leading into the two of you cuddling up together.

whitney doesnt really pull their weight on the farm at first - they don't get in your way, at least, not liking the way you'd get upset or try and chastise them (because it'd make it awkward to initiate sex with you later, obviously, and that's the only reason, they swear) nor the possibility of you seeking out alex for comfort. it's when you start complaining more often about how difficult it is to tend the fields and how sore you are that whitney decides to put themselves to work, solely to prove to you that it's not difficult at all - maybe fragile little sluts like you aren't cut out for work that doesn't involve lying on your back, huh? (there's no bite to their words, no malice behind them, a teasing grin playing on their lips, and a thrill runs though them when your face flushes and you start shoving them away towards the fields.)

it is actually hard work, obviously, but made slightly easier now that all three of you are working. you're in the kitchen when whitney calls it a day and returns to the cottage, leaving alex to herd the chickens into the coop. their shirt is clinging to them, skin slicked with a sheen of sweat as they cage you against the kitchen table, whispering how tonight you should reward them for their hard work.

that becomes routine soon enough; wake up together, work on the farm, eat together, go back to your shared room to fuck, fall asleep in each other's arms. it feels natural to whitney, this progression; even with the routine, you still don't bore them - you're still fun to tease, still make them cum hard whenever you have sex, still their favourite slut...but whitney can't help but realise things have changed when they watch you waking up, the half-light of dawn filling the room, and feel a warmth in their chest when you give them that sleepy smile.

Your art is just *chefs kiss* ❤️👌

thank you 🥺💘

im honestly so flattered you reblogged my little whitney fic cuz i love the way you write them 🥺 HSGSBAV but YEAH the idea was whitney just fucking ur face and pissing inside your mouth during it, so much that it spills out your mouth a little and he insults you for it <3 i have more Ideas but i dunno how into this kinda stuff u are so ill spare you from them - @bloodpenned

ndjjdjsjjs 💘💓 omg im glad that you like my writing but yessss omg that fic was so hot and youre honestly a genius...like whitney would absolutely be into the humiliation/degradation aspect of piss and "you think id put my dick anywhere near that filthy mouth of yours?" i......wow.

whitney pissing down your throat while fucking your face and mocking you when you cant swallow it in time....if youre going to be bad and make such a mess, maybe you dont deserve his cum

notes: 🚨 piss kink drabble 🚨 (if it grosses you out i recommend blocking the tag ‘k.piss’!), m!whitney x gn!reader, noncon

Keep reading

👀 and if you do a really good job on his boots, maybe he'll let you hop up in his lap and ride him - sure, he's already fucked you in every room of the house today, but it's a rare occasion for him to sit back and let you fuck yourself stupid on his cock. you could even consider this your payment.

(he's kidding, of course. he knows he's taken up an entire day of your time and you really need the money. good for you, he knows exactly which drawer his parents keep the emergency money in. why don't you bend over and grab it, huh?)

hm. whitney brainrot. love the idea of spending the day as his personal maid/sextoy...consider the way that, after fucking you and pulling out, he gestures to the puddle of cum dripping on to the floor between your legs.

"you've made a mess, aren't you supposed to be cleaning?"

you go to move away from him, planning to get a cloth or mop or something to clean it up, when he grabs you and forces you to your knees, pushing you down until your head meets the floor.

"be a good little pet and lick it up."

- 💘 (*rebecca more voice* its sunday, a day of rest, but not for meeeeeee)

I

Plz

Plz also consider how there's no way Whitney is letting you put on undies. How you're going to be dripping his cum while cleaning. That he might fuck you again as a 'punishment' for being such a piss poor maid, making messes instead of cleaning them. Intentionally cumming right at your entrance so you'll end up leaking more.

oh fuck riding whitney's boot...

he's leaning back in his chair, watching you as you grind against his foot, face all flushed and desperate, arms wrapped around his leg to keep you as close to him as possible. he laughs, calls you pathetic with a mocking grin on his lips, unzipped jacket parting to reveal the defined musculature of his bare torso.

look at you, humping against him like a bitch in heat. did you get this way just from him edging you with that vibe? he doesn't think so. he thinks you really get off on him ordering you around like that; of course you do, weakminded little sluts like you need a strong hand to guide you - and you know how good whitney is with his hands.

hm. whitney brainrot. love the idea of spending the day as his personal maid/sextoy...consider the way that, after fucking you and pulling out, he gestures to the puddle of cum dripping on to the floor between your legs.

"you've made a mess, aren't you supposed to be cleaning?"

you go to move away from him, planning to get a cloth or mop or something to clean it up, when he grabs you and forces you to your knees, pushing you down until your head meets the floor.

"be a good little pet and lick it up."

- 💘 (*rebecca more voice* its sunday, a day of rest, but not for meeeeeee)

I

Plz

Plz also consider how there's no way Whitney is letting you put on undies. How you're going to be dripping his cum while cleaning. That he might fuck you again as a 'punishment' for being such a piss poor maid, making messes instead of cleaning them. Intentionally cumming right at your entrance so you'll end up leaking more.

ok idk your thoughts on kylar but im crying bcs i desperately wish i could simp for him like everyone else but im a humble bottom and i cannot fuck anyone who isnt ready and willing to degrade the everloving shit out of me. anyway this is a long winded way of asking for top!kylar (if ur comfortable writing abt him) -🅱️

i deeply understand, but the opposite way. look at what i write for whitney and tell me you believe that im a domme 🥴

kylar topping you...i could see happening one of two ways

the first is that he's been so desperate to be what you want so you'll come to him willingly and he won't have to waste time he could be spending with you making his tranqs. and you're so receptive to how shy he is, so that must be what you want, right? so he keeps that up when the two of you make love, letting you call all the shots, moaning and whimpering just like he practiced so he doesn't betray just how much he wants to flip you over and pound you into the mattress.

but, gradually, he feels you pulling away from him and, no! that can't happen! don't you see that the two of you are soulmates? so the next time you're together, he takes out his anger on you - he takes the lead, and he's rough. manhandling you into position, telling you how mad he is that you've been ignoring him - what, are you whoring yourself out for other people when your future husband is being so patient and accommodating? and, oh, there's no way he could miss the way you clench around him when he starts whispering those nasty little words to you.

the other way i could see it happening is with kylar being his typical observant stalker self! picking up on all your little hints, sneaking into your room to search though your browser history. he wants you to realise that he's perfect for you, so he's going to be your perfect lover. basically service top kylar!

yes yes yessss

or whitney taping a remote controlled bullet vibe to your clit while you work. he thinks its funny to turn it up randomly, making you drop things, only increasing the power when you bend over to pick them up, so that your legs buckle under you and he can see the way your bare pussy clenches and flutters. your arousal dripping onto the floor is just another thing for you to clean up; if you're not willing to use your tongue, whitney is prepared to help you - by grabbing your head and smearing your face and hair into the puddle.

also not to make this punk whitney adjacent BUT...

he leaves you alone for a few minutes, claiming he has to get ready - he had plans today, before you showed up (no he didn't, but he likes having you think he's doing you a favour by staying here and letting you "work").

he re-enters the room a few minutes later in his ripped jeans and his leather jacket and, most importantly, his big leather boots.

he calls you over as he sits down, saying he has something he needs you to clean. has you kneeling in front of him, cheek pressed to the floor, one of his boots pushing down on your back so you can't get up; the other boot next to your face.

"tongue out, sweetheart," he says smugly, and you comply; he nudges the boot towards your face. "why don't you give the leather a spitshine for me?"

hm. whitney brainrot. love the idea of spending the day as his personal maid/sextoy...consider the way that, after fucking you and pulling out, he gestures to the puddle of cum dripping on to the floor between your legs.

"you've made a mess, aren't you supposed to be cleaning?"

you go to move away from him, planning to get a cloth or mop or something to clean it up, when he grabs you and forces you to your knees, pushing you down until your head meets the floor.

"be a good little pet and lick it up."

- 💘 (*rebecca more voice* its sunday, a day of rest, but not for meeeeeee)

I

Plz

Plz also consider how there's no way Whitney is letting you put on undies. How you're going to be dripping his cum while cleaning. That he might fuck you again as a 'punishment' for being such a piss poor maid, making messes instead of cleaning them. Intentionally cumming right at your entrance so you'll end up leaking more.

Oh dude I had a dream about Whitney a while ago. It was like a royal AU where he was a prince and we’d exchange letters but my father hated him so Whitney essentially orchestrated his death. Good times

- 🅱️ (this is my anon name now)

oh my goooddddd prince whitney....

prince whitney who doesn't give a shit about the political marriage his dad has lined up for him; not after he saw you after a ball in your family's palace.

he's handsome and charming despite his well-known wrathful streak, and you can't help but find yourself seduced by him from the second he fixes you with a heated stare and kisses your gloved hand. after one dance, he's leading you away to a private parlour to talk, and it's like it's the most natural thing in the world to be alone with him.

all of your father's teachings about decorum and propriety are gone from your mind as he leans in to whisper in your ear, telling you how ravishing you are.

and that's how it begins; your whirlwind romance with the temperamental blonde prince.

you two begin to exchange letters in secret; your father shows clear distain for whitney, and you aren't fool enough to flaunt your burgeoning relationship in his face. the correspondence is intimate and torrid, leaving your maidservants scandalised - and clamouring to get another peek of each letter and you read them at your vanity. it is within this secrecy that you and whitney are affianced.

when your father finds out, there's hell to pay. he threatens to have you locked up, killed, even; what good are you to him as an heir, now you have fallen so far from grace? betrayed his trust, disobeyed his commands, promised yourself to a man for the delusion of love like some common harlot. he forces you to write a final letter to whitney, breaking off your engagement; you hand shakes, your falling tears making the ink bleed on the page.

it's the first time one of your letters arouses whitney's temper instead of his loins. he's livid, already rallying his servants to seek out the kingdom's mercenaries. and if they can't find any that suffice, well...whitney isn't like these other spineless nobles. he's never been afraid to get his hands dirty.

Tiord. Too many things to be horny about and no energy

perfectly understandable my dear 💘 rest up or i'll getcha 😠👊👊

where are all my hot n sexy big brain anons? miss you guys 😢

good evening sydney nation