Masterlist
Marvel
Yandere Punisher x Fem! Reader
Blue Mountain State
Thad Castle x Cheerleader!Reader Headcanons
HIM
Cameron Cade Fic: You Find Out (Coming soon)
Other
ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴇxᴛʀᴇᴍᴇʟʏ ʀɪᴄʜ ᴄᴏᴜᴘʟᴇ x ᴘᴏᴏʀ ᴅᴀʀʟɪɴɢ
Tumblr Website
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
RMH
AnasAbdin

JBB: An Artblog!

Origami Around
Keni
Jules of Nature
Sade Olutola
DEAR READER

ellievsbear

roma★

#extradirty
art blog(derogatory)

Kiana Khansmith
wallacepolsom
Monterey Bay Aquarium
NASA
Today's Document
Xuebing Du
styofa doing anything

seen from Canada
seen from Spain

seen from Malaysia

seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from Poland
seen from Spain

seen from United States

seen from Netherlands

seen from Singapore

seen from United States
seen from Canada

seen from Russia
seen from Türkiye

seen from Türkiye
seen from India
seen from France

seen from Türkiye
@y3rp
Masterlist
Marvel
Yandere Punisher x Fem! Reader
Blue Mountain State
Thad Castle x Cheerleader!Reader Headcanons
HIM
Cameron Cade Fic: You Find Out (Coming soon)
Other
ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴇxᴛʀᴇᴍᴇʟʏ ʀɪᴄʜ ᴄᴏᴜᴘʟᴇ x ᴘᴏᴏʀ ᴅᴀʀʟɪɴɢ
Tumblr Website
ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴇxᴛʀᴇᴍᴇʟʏ ʀɪᴄʜ ᴄᴏᴜᴘʟᴇ x ᴘᴏᴏʀ ᴅᴀʀʟɪɴɢ
Headcannons SFW
The Ainsworths' couple met their darling at a country club when she was just a measly waiter.
The Ainsworths had no intention every coming back, mostly because it wasn't their place, te but when they saw their darling , they just had to come back.
It started as them giving generous tips such as $100 dollars just to lure their darling in.
From the start, it was never innocent. They knew exactly what they wanted and exactly what their darling needed, which was money.
The Ainsworths had their people do some digging and found that their darling was suffering financial issues. Specifically with college expenses, as well as other things like where they grew up, spending habits, and all their family members.
Mr.Ainsworth took a liking to their darling more when he found out she was attending the college he went to.
But Mrs.Ainsworth saw their darling as an unfortunate mess to fix and own
How they get their darling is simple: they offer her more tips and hire her as a maid with the promise to pay her college expenses
Once she is working for the ainsworths she notices the odd behavior they exhibit to her:
Like how Mrs.Ainsworth makes their darling dust under her bed every single day, although it's spotless under there.
Or how Mr. Ainsworth pays her a little extra for their darling to sit on his lap and tell him about her studies.
Headcannons NSFW
But despite their odd behavior, their darling just chalks it up to be nothing or completely ignores all of the signs. It's not like she could do anything; she really needed this job.
Until, of course, when their darling breaks a vase they got from Germany as a wedding gift. But the coupledidn'tt care, they were focused on the opportunity to put their darling in an ultimatum, get fired or take the punishment.
Though their darling was scared straight,t she took the second option, which she actually enjoyed a little too much than the couple intended.
Mrs Ainsworth has their darling bent over and keeps a steady pase thrusting in and out of their darlingwith the strap on she saved just for her.
While Mr.Ainsworth is pumping himself in and out of their darling, at the same time allowing their darling to take just as much of him as she likes.
Mrs.Ainsworth thrusts increase when she knows their darling is close to her climax, and Mr.Ainsworth pulls out of their darling mouth and into their darling double, stuffing her.
The couple thrusts in and out of the reader uncoordinated until she climaxes, but neither one of the Ainsworths is finished just yet.
Mrs. Ainsworth pulls out and takes off the strap, leaving their darling a whining mess while Mr.Ainsworth flips their darling on her back, positioning himself between her legs, and his wife positions herself just above their darling face.
That's when Mrs.Ainsworth sits on their darling face, riding her with perfect rhythm while Mr. Ainsworth begins with sloppy strokes in and out of their darling
Until the Ainsworth couple reaches their orgasm, with Mrs.Ainsworth finishing just on their darling lips and Mr.Ainsworth filling their darling with his cum.
cure to loneliness
pairing: cameron cade x doctor!male reader
genre: smut
tags/warnings: size difference (reader is smaller), praise kink, daddy kink, muscle worship, rough and unprotected intercourse, no aftercare
"your heart rate's normal. for someone who trained for 8 hours straight, anyway." you pull the chestpiece away from cameron's thick pectoral before removing the ear buds of your stethoscope. "do you have any muscle pain?"
it's been two months since you began working as the personal doctor for the star quarterback. it isn't hard treating one person: in fact the hardest part of the job is keeping your hands to yourself when this godly man is your patient. "nothing i couldn't manage." cam stated.
his powerful scent and masculine musk filled your senses. "good, cause i can't give you more of what i gave you yesterday. you should really cut back on your training hours."
cameron crossed his arms, flexing his extensor muscles and the prominent curves of his massive biceps. "the season begins in two months. i can't do that." he talked with a deep groove in his voice that commanded but never terrified.
you swallowed, eyes darting away from his glistening body. you really wished he would take a shower before he saw you for a check up, but then again, seeing him in a towel might just make your dick harder. "okay then, you said your pain was manageable so keep taking what i prescribed you and don't hesitate to come here if it gets worse."
cam suddenly scoffed, even if you didn't say anything funny. "can i ask you something?"
"shoot." you stood up and began stripping the medical supplies off. mask first, then the latex gloves into the bin.
"do you wanna get fucked?' cameron spoke with no hesitance whatsoever.
your body froze, slowly lifting your foot away from the bin. "uh," heat ran down your spine, embarrassment and arousal warring inside you. "i- i don't think that's an appropriate-"
"oh come on. you're so fucking hot." you heard cameron stand up, nailing you in place even further. his god-like abs pressed against your back, his large hand rubbing the curve of your slumped shoulders while his body heat embraced you. you've never been this close to him, and knowing now how big he was compared to you just made your dick ache in your jeans further. "you don't think i don't see you watching me when i train? you're practically drooling."
"m-mr. cade-"
"shut up. call me daddy." before you could protest, cameron gripped you by the neck and smashed his lips on yours. there was no hint of romance, his lips were driven by pure lust as he moved them. you whimpered as he pushed his tongue inside and claimed your mouth, plunging and scraping your teeth and gums. your legs fell weak from his fiery dominance and he was quick to hold you up and carry you to the bed.
cameron's weight pinned you down the mattress, his kisses stealing your breath while he left your lips and trailed down your neck. his teeth pierced your skin, pulling a yelp out of your throat as your hands landed on his broad shoulders seeking for support. "yeah, touch me pretty boy. worship my body." he groaned against your body, delivering intense vibrations to your core.
your trembling fingers began to trace the robust expanse of his back, feeling every ridge of his spine and muscles rippling while he stripped you off your clothes that eventually met the floor. suddenly, cam pulled back to admire your naked body. you felt conscious enough to close your legs, but cameron was quick to push them apart again. "none of that, told you that you were fucking delicious." he chuckled before giving your sensitive hard dick a slap.
cameron then unleashed his thick cock from his shorts, fully erect and already glistening at the tip. your late night fantasies turned out to have underestimated him. he spat crudely on his palm and gave himself a few strokes. "ready?"
"yes, daddy." you whispered delicately, fully giving into your desires by parting your legs and lying down further to expose your gaping hole. "fuck me like the star quarterback you are."
he responded with a deep grunt, surging forward and pressing the thick head to your entrance. you both unleashed a cross between a moan and a wail as cam slammed inside. your nerve endings flared as he penetrated you, his thick fingers gripping your waist and keeping you there.
"so tight," cameron groaned against your ear as he pushed further into your clamping channel. he gave your ear lobe a stinging bite. "taking me like a champ. you were made to be my cocksleeve." he gave one last deep thrust before pressing against your prostate. your spine arched back as you were stretched impossibly wide at cam's mercy, pressing your stomach against his hard abs.
cameron wasted no time, immediately pistoning with deep, powerful strokes that jolted your entire body. you yelped against every push in and drag out, hands roaming his toned body searching for an anchor. you traced every define ridge of his abs as they flexed while he thrust into you.
then, you kneaded the dense flesh of his thick pectoral muscle. you worshipped the immense power with your tongue by licking a stripe at the canyon between, tasting salt and his musk before paying attention to his right nipple. cameron grunted with every thrust, almost losing control due to your worship. "keep doing that, pretty boy. taste me. inhale my musk."
your hands gripped the hard swell of his biceps as cam's relentless thrusts transcended into reckless abandon. your legs lost all their feeling while you tilted up your head to bury your nose on cam's chest. he rubbed against your inhales of primal worship as he jackhammered into your hole with lightning speed. "hmm daddy," you mumbled beneath him. "you're so big. so good. fuck-"
"you're perfect for me. i should fuck you like this every day. it will be my cardio work out." cameron's thrusts became harder, faster, and lost all control. he drove into you with heedless force, pleasure and pain confusing all together in the knot in your stomach.
"i'm cumming!" you declared, your legs barely wrapping around his waist as you pulled cameron closer.
"cum for me pretty boy. cum for your quarterback." with his permission, you threw your head back as you let your violent orgasm take over you. ropes of cum spurted on your stomach and cam's abs.
feeling you close in on his giant cock and convulse rapidly triggered cameron, burying himself deep into your ass and flooding your depths with thick pulses of hot cum as he emptied himself with deep ferocity. you held each other for a frozen moment, simply catching the air that you weren't able to breathe during the rough coupling.
finally, cam's grip loosened slightly. he slowly pulled out, the sensation drawing a weak whimper from your lips. cum leaked obscenely from your hole to your thighs and the sheets. he looked down on the mess- on you, himself, the bed- then back at your dazed face. he gave your spent dick a squeeze.
"clean yourself up," cameron's voice regained it's cool control, but it was now laced with dark intentions as he surveyed the aftermath of your submission. "and next time, i won't be as gentle as i was tonight."
the anticipation and threat hung heavy in the air: there will be a next time.
Thad Castle x Cheerleader!Reader Headcanons
1. He brags about you constantly — even when it’s unrelated.
Coach could be talking about the team’s defensive scheme, and Thad will suddenly interrupt to bring up how "your toe touch looked like porn mixed with gymnastics.” He doesn’t even realize it’s off-topic — to him, you’re the centerpiece of everything, including game strategy. “What keeps morale up? Not your weak-ass plays, Harmon — it’s my girlfriend’s ass in that skirt.” His bragging has less to do with pride and more to do with needing the team to see what he has, like you’re a trophy on display.
2. He insists you wear his jersey to every party.
If you forget, even once, he’ll act like you stabbed him in the back. “How are people supposed to know you’re exclusive property of peak masculine genetics?” he asks, fully serious, reeking of Axe and jealousy. He’ll dramatically pull it over your head at the door, even if it messes up your hair. It’s less about romance and more about branding — you’re his walking endorsement.
3. Locker room? Just him showing you off.
He’s made a folder on his phone called “Castle’s Queen” filled with cheer pics, up-close selfies of your butt, and you mid-split. Any time someone so much as mentions a girl, he opens it like it’s a presentation. “That’s my girl,” he says, zooming in on your thighs like he’s evaluating stock. If anyone jokes about it, he gets weirdly defensive — “You wish you could pull this level of glute-to-waist ratio.”
4. No one else is “qualified” to date you.
Thad talks like there’s a physical requirement to even look at you — elite testosterone levels, minimum bench press, protein intake, etc. “Only a man with alpha hormone density can satisfy a high-performance cheer queen like her,” he once said to a terrified freshman. If someone flirts with you, Thad corners them in the hallway later and “educates” them on “biological dominance.” It’s not a joke to him — he genuinely believes he’s genetically superior, and therefore entitled to you.
5. Got kicked out of the gym once for being too loud with you.
You were spotting him and he kept making porn-level moans, yelling stuff like “Boost me, babe, I need your estrogen waves to max out!” Other gym-goers asked if you were filming something. When staff told him to quiet down, he flexed and said, “Sorry, testosterone surge can’t be contained.” You got banned for a week, and he wore it like a badge of honor.
6. Will do choreography with you — badly.
Thad insists he can keep up with your halftime routine, shirtless, with ankle weights “to simulate adversity.” He ends up hip-thrusting the wrong way, smacks another cheerleader, and trips on a pom-pom — then blames it on “inferior mat grip.” You try to help him, but he tells you not to “soften his edge.” He still makes the team watch the video of it on loop.
7. He has personalized cheers about himself that he makes you chant.
He writes them himself, and they’re full of lines like “Give me a C for Castle, give me an A for Alpha, give me an S for SEX.” If you don’t say them at games, he sulks and accuses you of “cheer betrayal.” You once tried to replace it with a team chant and he yelled, “What about my spirit??” He’s convinced you’re the amplifier for his greatness — and wants the world to hear it.
8. Carries all your stuff like it’s combat gear.
He grabs your duffle bag, water bottle, and pom-poms like they’re mission objectives, barking “I’ve got the goods!” as he lugs them into the stadium. He’ll complain, but only when other people are around, so they know he’s doing it. “Real men carry their queen’s battle equipment,” he says, unironically. He’ll drop everything if you ask, but acts like he just saved your life.
9. Jealous of the mascot.
One game, the mascot hugged you and Thad full-on tackled him on the field. “I don’t care if it’s a suit — foam or not, hands were on you.” He got ejected for unsportsmanlike conduct and told the ref it was a “domestic defense situation.” Later, he apologized to you but not the guy in the costume — “He touched Castle’s Queen. That’s a war crime.”
10. He lives to impress you — dangerously.
If he sees you during a lift, he adds weight mid-set even if he physically can’t handle it. “This one’s for your ass, babe!” he shouts before nearly collapsing. He’ll injure himself just to flex in front of you, then use his limp as a reason to guilt you into rubbing his shoulders. Pain means nothing to him if you’re watching.
11. Writes awful poetry about your legs.
You once found a laminated poem under your pillow that began, “Your thighs, they thunder, my heart they plunder.” It was scrawled in all caps on notebook paper with protein shake stains. He recites them in the locker room, using your legs as motivation for the team’s squats. You begged him to stop after one of the guys threw up from laughing.
12. Overprotective to an insane level.
If another guy gives you a compliment, Thad starts interrogating you like you’re in a crime drama. “Why did he say ‘nice skirt’? What’s he implying? IS HE TRYING TO BREED WITH YOU?” Your physics professor gave you an A- and Thad decided he was flirting. He’s already planning to "accidentally" run into him at the campus gym.
13. Wants your uniform shorter — and keeps “shrinking” it in the wash.
He’ll offer to do your laundry and magically, the skirt comes back tighter every time. “Oops, I think the hot water did something… but damn, it’s aerodynamic as hell now.” He claims it’ll help with your speed and stunt performance, but he just wants more thigh showing. You’ve had to start hiding your clean uniforms in your car.
14. Your presence boosts his workouts.
He literally tracks his PRs in two categories: “with babe” and “without babe.” You’re listed in his training log as a supplement — “Cheer-Induced Growth Gains.” He claims your scent makes his testosterone spike 30%. If you’re not there, he records his reps and makes you watch later for “form feedback.”
15. You're his phone wallpaper — and the caption is unhinged.
It’s a mid-cheer pic where you’re smiling, hair flying, and the caption just says: Property of Castle. Violators will be tackled. He shows it off to the team like it’s his proudest achievement. He’s changed it three times, and one version had a crude arrow pointing to your chest with the words “National Treasure.”
16. Buys you “team snacks” — but they’re obviously for sex.
He hands you protein bars and electrolyte packs with little sticky notes that say “For later ;)” or “Keep stamina up, babe.” One time he bought you gummy bears and said they were “mouth training.” He genuinely thinks giving you snacks equals romantic effort. You caught him Googling “pre-sex snacks for athletes” once.
17. Demands people refer to you as “Queen.”
He corrected the Dean once. “Excuse me, her name is Queen of the Castle — get it right, academia boy.” He even has it saved as your name in his phone, with three crown emojis and the fire symbol. You tried to change it once and he made a dramatic post-game speech about betrayal.
18. Touchdown dances include you — even if you're not involved.
He scored once, ran to the sideline, picked you up Lion King-style and yelled, “MY QUEENNNN!” in front of the entire crowd. The coach fined him for “unauthorized use of spirit personnel.” Thad framed a screenshot of it and put it above his bed. He genuinely thinks that moment deserves a spot in the school’s trophy case.
19. Sends you “good morning” pics of his abs every single day.
Sometimes flexed, sometimes oiled, sometimes with motivational quotes like “Start your day with alpha fuel.” If you don’t respond immediately, he’ll double text with “You ignoring the gains??” He once printed one and stuck it in your locker as a surprise. You keep a folder titled “CastleSpam” on your phone and it has over 80 images.
20. “Captain” is his favorite pet name — for you.
You called him Captain once as a joke and he went still, smirked, and said, “Say it again… slower.” Now he insists on calling you Captain during sex, practice, even casual convo. “Captain wants a smoothie? Captain gets a smoothie.” He treats it like a sexual title and a military rank — his queen, his commander, his obsession.
NSFW WARNING
Thad absolutely lives for locker room quickies before games. He’ll slam you against the metal lockers, pants already halfway down, ranting about how your “magic pussy” guarantees a win. There’s no warm-up—just raw adrenaline and an ego the size of the stadium. The man busts in under two minutes, then slaps your ass and says, “Alright babe, now I’m fuckin’ focused.”
He gets off on the idea of you cheering right after he’s creamed in you. He’ll yank your uniform aside in the car or behind the bleachers, fuck you stupid, then smirk while you have to run back on the field sticky and sore. It turns him on knowing his cum is dripping out of you while you smile and do toe-touches. You bet he’s in the stands bragging to the guys about it, too—loudly.
Oral is his goddamn favorite—when you’re on your knees. He wants you on the field, on the mascot mat, in the film room—anywhere risky—begging for it like it’s an honor. He grips your hair like it’s a football helmet and calls it “team spirit” when you choke on him. Afterwards he’ll slap your cheek, zip up, and say, “That’s why you’re my number one starter.”
Thad gets crazy possessive when other guys look at you. He’ll drag you into the equipment closet mid-party, rip off your thong, and rail you so hard the helmets fall off the shelf. The whole time he’s muttering, “Mine. Mine. Mine.” Then he walks you back out with your makeup smudged and his hand gripping your ass like a warning sign.
Roleplay? Oh, Thad’s obsessed. His favorite is you pretending to be a rival cheerleader and him “punishing” you for trying to seduce the BMS team. He’ll put you in pigtails and make you say a fake chant while riding him, calling you a “traitor slut” the whole time. After he finishes, he makes you wear the enemy colors home—“as a trophy.”
He 100% records your sex tapes—without shame. He has a whole “Thad’s Greatest Hits” folder on his phone, filled with clips of you moaning his name while he flexes for the camera. He watches them before practice to hype himself up, saying it’s better than pre-workout. If you ever act up, he’ll smirk and go, “Don’t make me send your highlight reel to the squad.”
Thad has a praise/degradation kink like no other. He’ll say, “That’s my good sloot,” while also mocking you for how loud you’re begging. He switches between calling you his “cheer queen” and his “dumb little cum dumpster” like they mean the same thing. And somehow, it works—because the second he says “attagirl,” your knees are weak.
He gets off on public sex and near-catches. Once he bent you over the golf cart during homecoming setup while people were twenty feet away. You were halfway through saying “this is insane” before he shoved your panties to the side and said, “That’s why it’s hot.” You came right as the band walked past, and he didn’t even flinch.
He loves when you wear your cheer uniform during sex. The pleated skirt drives him absolutely insane—especially when you’re on top and it’s bouncing. Sometimes he’ll grab your pom-poms and wave them while he fucks you, yelling “Go Thad!” like he’s your personal pep rally. It’s stupid, chaotic, and exactly his brand of erotic.
Thad loves breeding talk—even though he’s totally not ready for kids. He’ll go, “You’re gonna take this load like a future Castle,” while finishing deep inside you, every single time. After he nuts, he holds you down and says, “Stay still, gotta let it marinate.” Then he’ll panic later like, “Wait, you’re not actually pregnant, right?”
He has a weirdly intense thing for morning sex. Like, he’ll wake you up by already being inside you and say, “Rise and grind, baby.” He acts like it’s cardio and flexes while pounding you from behind, even making you hold his protein shake. It’s not gentle, not sweet, and you 100% missed your first class because of it.
He gets jealous when you wear clothes that anyone else notices. His solution? Rip them off and fuck you in whatever you didn’t plan to be seen in—like his old football hoodie or a towel. He’ll go, “Only I get to see this body, babe,” while pounding you into the mattress. And then he dares you to go out in it with no panties.
Thad will do anything to prove he's better than your ex. He’ll dirty talk like, “Bet your loser ex couldn’t make you scream like this,” while folding you in half. He’ll check your reactions like it’s a scoreboard and demand feedback mid-thrust. If you accidentally say an ex’s name (even as a joke), he won’t let you walk the next day.
Car sex is a weekly thing. He acts like it’s a rite of passage, especially if it's in the team van or his frat buddy's truck. He’ll fog up the windows, slap your thigh, and say, “You know we set records in this thing, right?” And then he expects a high-five after he finishes.
He’s totally into choking—but only because it makes you louder. He’ll say it’s for dominance, but he really just likes how wrecked your voice sounds after. He wraps his hand around your throat like it’s part of the playbook and whispers filth with that cocky smirk. Afterwards, he’ll tell people you sound hoarse because you “cheered too hard.”
He calls your pussy his “MVP.” He’ll actually say things like, “No offense to Moran, but your pussy carried the team this season.” He’ll talk to it during sex like it’s a living thing: “Don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna feed you real good.” If anyone else heard him, you’d both be expelled—but he doesn’t give a single fuck.
Aftercare? Only after he's had a protein bar. He’ll nut, roll off, unwrap a bar, then cuddle you and kiss your forehead like he didn’t just rail you like a linebacker. Sometimes he flexes while you’re laying on his chest like it’s a sexy pillow. It’s not soft—but it’s so him.
He’s obsessed with mirror sex. Thad wants to see every angle—his muscles, your tits, the way you bounce. He’ll say, “Look how hot we are. We’re like porn for winners.” Then he’ll take a mirror selfie mid-stroke and send it to his backup phone labeled “Spank Bank.”
Thad lives for you saying his name. He’ll whisper, “Who’s the captain?” until you scream it like a chant. If you moan “Thad,” he fucks harder—if you moan anything else, he stops and says, “Wrong answer.” He might be a raging narcissist, but damn if it doesn’t work in bed.
He once made you cum to the BMS fight song. He was behind you, clapping off beat while thrusting, saying “TOUCHDOWN” every time he hit deep. You were laughing and crying at the same time, but somehow still came like a champ. He high-fived you afterwards and said, “God, I’m good.”
Lowkey started punisher a few days ago but when i tell you this man is TOO fine like his orgingal long haired look had me in a chokehold
Yandere Frank Castle x Fem Reader
1. His Obsession is Not Innocent. Frank’s obsession isn’t just about protecting you — it’s rooted in something far darker. He watches you like he’s guarding treasure, but his gaze lingers too long on your bare skin, your sleepwear, your underwear hanging in your bathroom. He tells himself it’s just watching over you, but he knows it’s not. He’s not some teenager with a crush. He’s a man who's killed hundreds. And the way he fixates on your body? It’s predatory.
2. He's Been Inside — and Not Just the Apartment. Frank has snuck into your apartment more times than you’d believe. He knows what perfume you wear, the texture of your sheets, the rhythm of your breathing when you sleep. He’s stolen a pair of your panties — not to keep, but to hold when he’s watching footage of you in the shower. He doesn’t even touch himself most of the time. He just stares. It’s ownership, not lust. But when he does let it out? It’s violent. Guttural. Like something animal finally snapping its chain.
3. He Uses Surveillance for More Than Protection. Frank has every angle of your home covered. The bathroom. The bedroom. He listens to your soft moans when you touch yourself. He watches with clenched fists, breathing heavy, his jaw tight. He hates that you’re doing it without him. That you're wasting it. He whispers under his breath, “That’s not how you do it. Let me show you...”
4. Touching is Inevitable. You fall asleep in your apartment. You wake up feeling like someone’s touched your thigh — your blanket is a little off, your underwear twisted. You think it’s a dream. It’s not. Frank snuck in. Just for a moment. Just to kneel beside the bed and touch the skin he’s memorized on screen. He convinced himself it was just to "check on you." But the second he laid hands on you, he couldn’t stop. Not until he saw you shiver in your sleep, and whispered, “Mine.”
5. If You Date Someone, He Makes It Graphic. He doesn’t just remove your lovers. He punishes them. Castrates them. Makes sure the body is found with evidence of what Frank thinks they wanted to do to you. It’s not about justice. It’s territorial. “You don’t get to touch what’s mine,” he murmurs, lighting a match and watching the aftermath burn.
6. He Starts Talking To You While You Sleep. He whispers in your ear when you’re unconscious — drugged from a laced drink he gave you after “saving” you from a break-in he staged. “I watch everything, baby. I know what you like. I could make you feel good... not like those little boys who don’t know what to do with you.” He kisses your shoulder, your temple, maybe lower. Never enough to wake you. But enough to leave a mark. You wake up with faint bruises and can’t explain why your inner thighs ache.
7. He Gives You 'Gifts' That Aren’t Sweet. You get a package. Inside is a ziplock bag with bloody jewelry — something your coworker wore. Inside the box is also a vibrator. Unused. Expensive. With a note:
“Use this when you miss me. No one else will ever satisfy you again.”
8. His Anger is Pure Possessive Rage. You post a photo online showing skin? That night, someone breaks into your apartment, ties you down, and lectures you through gritted teeth:
“You want them to see this? You think they deserve to look at what’s mine?” He doesn’t even undress you. He just holds you tight, his breath hot against your throat, touching nothing — yet it feels like everything’s been violated.
9. He Forces You to Say You're His. The night he finally reveals himself, it isn’t romantic. He’s on top of you, not pinning, but caging. Eyes dark. Lips inches from yours.
“Say it. Say you’re mine, and I’ll stop watching. Otherwise, I’ll put a bullet in every man who’s ever looked at you.” You cry. You fight. You scream. But when you break, when you say the words he needs to hear — "I'm yours..." He kisses your forehead and says softly: “That’s my girl.”
10. You’re No Longer Free. You’re Caged and Kept. You wake up in a secure location. A private bunker. Underground. Food stocked. Bed warm. He enters every day, shirtless, stained with blood, hands rough. He keeps you clean. He brings your favorite books. And at night, you hear him through the thin wall, whispering your name like a prayer while he touches himself to the sound of your crying voice.
🔐 ENDGAME: You’re a Pet, Not a Partner
Frank doesn’t want love. He wants obedience, silence, and submission. One wrong move, and he’ll break every bone in the world to keep you tucked in the dark, where no one else ever touches what he’s claimed.