#ewanverse

Billy sat on his decrepit Ikea desk chair surrounded by the debris of last night's takeaway order and redbull cans. He flicked open his laptop with his lithe elongated fingers. Arrow guiding itself to his secret folder, one that contained hundreds of hundreds of images of you taken from various internet profiles; it did not matter whether you had posted it, he had it. He skimmed down to the bottom of the window that contained his new favourite wank material - photos of you next to looping videos of girls from porn sites. He had curated the video himself, several hours long it cycled through walls and walls of close ups of your face and body with actresses who visually mimicked you. Girls on their knees sucking men dry, their perfectly positioned pussies riding thick cocks that had tufts of dirty blonde hair, breasts jiggling and arses spread. He pulled down his sweat ridden grey joggers and spat in his hand, he was going to have fun imagining you tonight. Languidly, he pulled back his foreskin to reveal his ruddy weeping head, gasping at the sensation as his cock was exposed to the cool air. He bit down on his lip to stifle a delicious whine that wretched itself from his throat - the walls were awfully thin in his apartment and he couldn't have the neighbours knowing. Slowly but surely he gently tugged his cock along while his eyes remained fixated on your face, a girl's tits flashed on screen prompting him to take a slow intake of breath 'slow, Billy, slow' he tried to remind himself to enjoy the build up. He changed tactics then; other hand moving to cup and fondle his full balls while the one stroking him rolled over his flushed head. His head threw at the sensation wanton moans leaving his lips as he stayed like that for awhile - he tucked the collar of his old green shirt between his teeth to muffle them, his saliva staining the top, gaze fixated on your beaming smile and soft fatty breasts in a selfie you took only yesterday 'fucking slut'. He was bucking up into his hand now, desperate for the release to hit him - a video of you twirling around in a pretty summer dress next to a girl deepthroating some blonde's cock sent him into overdrive; he moved his wet precum soaked hand back to his shaft, fucking into his tight grip imagining it was your sweet tight walls. 'fuck... you're killing me baby.' His pace gaining an unstoppable rhythm as he lifted himself slightly off his cheap swivel chair, "c'mon give it to me, give it to me baby-" he released his tight balls from his grip, skimming the video along to his favourite part, small images of you lined the computer; your pretty face bright and unassuming as a girl with a similar figure to yours rode atop a slender man, hands bracing his willowy chest, tits bouncing uncontrollably as her wet cunt ground against his cock - it was as if the video was made for him. It was almost as if the video was real. A real video of him fucking you, hard and deep. And in an instant it hit him like a semi-truck; his eyes narrowed until they completely shut, head thrown back on instinct as he savoured the feeling. The feeling of white noise ringing in his ears and tingling in his spine as his world faded to bright white then pitch black, then back and forth as his balls tightened and unleashed a torrent of white hot sticky cum. Shaky breaths passed through his mouth as his chest rose and fell to a steady pace, trembles riddled his body with the overstimulation as he moved to sit back into his seat. He cleaned himself up with a dirty rag from the floor and threaded his strong veined hands through his sweaty golden mop, pupils blown so wide that they encompassed his usually vivid cobalt eyes. His hand quivered as he closed out the video; 'until next time baby'.

Billy Washington

Your relationship with Billy was complicated to say the least. You weren't together per se, but you also weren't not together - not friends with benefits but definitely not partners, more like something floating in between.

But when weren't you floating in between? It seemed no matter how hard you both tried people weren't hiring and if they were, neither of you could keep it for long. Something always happened. Just like now.

You made your way to Billy's ramshackled apartment; bills upon bills stacked on top of each other littered the floor along with a few takeaway menus, it smelt as if something had died in there but no that was just this hellhole's toxic smell.

"Billy?" you waded through the trash carefully, you were quite far along now but barely showing, so no one had noticed or if they had they never mentioned it - they'd probably just assumed you'd had a pizza delivery one too many.

"Billy!?" you heard the muffled sound of footsteps clambering through wades of god knows what, probably leftover takeaway boxes? Plastic bottles? Clothes? Honestly, it was better not to know.

"Coming baby!" Speaking of babies... This place would not cut it. He came around the corner, a big smile plastered onto his sweet face, how could you say no to that face? In fact that is exactly what got you into this mess in the fist place- His tall frame towered over you, lean arms wrapped tightly around your form as he placed a loud wet kiss to the top of your head; "I missed you", he nuzzled himself into you, his greasy dirty blonde mop mixing with your freshly cleaned hair, "I missed you too babe" you managed to squeeze out before pulling away.

"Want a cup of tea? I'll go make one" "No- no," you took his large hands into yours, running your thumb along his nimble fingers "we have to talk Billy."

His eyes widened, flitting anywhere that wasn't your gaze, taking a big step back he pulled away from you "I dunno, that sounds serious babe." You nodded lightly, "Let's go in the kitchen yeah? Might need that cuppa after all." He followed like he always did but with hesitancy this time, his steely blue eyes hiding a masked sorrow that was so typical of him but almost never shined through when he was with you.

You both sat down at the crumb laden table, both of you with your heads lowered "Sorry for the mess I-" "It's alright babe, I need to tell you something- something very important and-" "So is this it then?"

That got your attention. You snapped your head up but his eyes still avoided yours, paying more attention to the wringing of his hands than you.

You wanted to reach out to him, desperately. Perhaps things would be better that way. If he never knew. Never having to be burdened with fatherhood or expectations that he thought he could never live up to.

You thought about it for a minute. No, Billy deserved to know. He deserved to have a say, something most would not afford him. So you reached out.

Delicate small hands nestled safely onto his large ones. Then you felt it. Wetness. Tears fell from his eyes and landed onto your fingers, not like this. You wrenched yourself from the chair as it skidded along the cheap peeling linoleum tiles, other hand meeting his cheek and raising his angular freckled face to yours - his eyes would still not meet yours, too busy trying to stifle the tears and sniffs that erupted from him.

"Billy, babe, look at me," and he did like he always did - puffy, midnight blue eyes swirling with pools of tears threatening to spill, "I'm pregnant and it's yours."

He took his hand from under yours and gripped your forearm, his breaths grew heavy as he made eye contact with you now "When? H-how?" "I'm a few months along, and well you aren't the best at the pulling out babe." Playful, Billy always liked it when you were playful.

Something bright settled in his eyes, a small smile pulled at his lips "I'm gonna be a dad?" he reached his hand out to touch your stomach and you let him. You always let Billy have what he wanted, he so rarely did that it seemed unfair to deny him. "I-If you want to- But I- Realistically Billy, we can't keep-"

"We can!" He raised his head so swiftly, it was a wonder how he did not break his neck; "We can. I promise. I'll get a job a-and I can tidy around here and we can be one big happy family-" "Billy-" "Please?" There he goes again with those sad puppy dog eyes. You could not deny him now.

It was not as if you did not want the child, it was whether you could both be good parents to it - I mean you barely look after yourselves as it is, let alone another human being.

"We have to think about this seriously Billy, there's no point in raising someone we can't provide for-" You pulled away from him now but he never let go of your belly, his hand moving to your back to keep you close; "Listen- I know we might not be the most well off but we'll love them. Love them more than anything in the world right?" "Billy-" "You know we will, I'll be the best dad I can be and you'll be the best mum they could ask for and we'd never hurt them or make them feel bad because if they fail, they'll get back up because we'll help them won't we?"

His eyes were pleading with you now and you tried. You tried to protest but you couldn't; "Alright Billy, we'll give it a go-" "You mean it?" That big dopey smile plastered itself back on his face and you couldn't help but smile yourself "Yes- I mean it. But we really do have to make some changes around here." "Yeah, we do." His lean arms pulled you back in for a bone crushing hug "I can't believe I'm gonna be a dad"

And he was. Billy was a good father and partner to you. He was always so doting, whether it was making sure you made it to your appointments or carrying a huge bag packed with 'essentials', he would never leave your side. Save for when he went to work for his big 'proper' job, sure he was only a manager at your local shop, but it was enough. He was always enough. Your bright and beautiful Billy.

Billy Taylor

The rain drummed a melodic beat against the windows of The Halcyon. Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. The rhythmic sound matching the quickened beat of your heart. The droplets streaming down the glass like tears. It all seemed too perfect. Too foreshadowing.

You waited nervously in your usual spot, the same room you and Billy had first, well, embraced each other. You have both been courting for quite some time, a few years have gone by since you first set foot in the hotel as a new maid.

You were both quite a sweet couple, sneaking stolen glances along the corridors and kisses in the break room when no one else was around. Billy was always so lively but shy; blushing a beautiful shade of cherry tomato when you first planted a chaste kiss on his cheek in this very room.

This place was your little hiding space, your secret - a disused room filled with supplies, it has needed 'refreshing' since before the war began and had been out of commission for quite some time, so you both of you knew no one would step foot in there. Away from prying eyes he grew more confident, though still bashful. Your kind, innocent, sweet Billy. Fear racked through your body at the thought of what he would say to you now - you could not lose him. He could not leave you to fight a war he may not come back from and leave you a widow.

Wringing your sweaty hands like coiling snakes, you stared out the window; a bustling London street graced your view, buildings high and as far as the eye could see with people skittering around like ants as if there were no war at all, as if you were not pregnant with Billy's child.

Now all you had to do was wait. Wait for him to come like he always did.

The creak of the door was so silent it was a wonder as to how it drew your attention at all, it closed with a near silent thud. You could practically hear the excitement riddling his form as he snuck behind you and wrapped you in a warm embrace, a quick timid peck gracing your cheek before his chin settled on your shoulder; "How's my girl doing?"

You close your eyes just to savour the moment, the moment before it all may come crashing down like a bomb on your house during the blitz - inhaling deeply through your nose, tentative hands grasp his large tender ones and move them lower to settle on your lower belly - he tries to fidget and pull them away 'U-uh already- love? I- I just g-got here-' he stutters out anxiously and tries to pull away from you, but your small fingers intertwine with his long ones to anchor him there.

Silence. Only Billy's ragged hot breath echoes through the room as he twitches nervously under your direct touch, you had hoped he would have gotten the message by just standing there but your Billy as innocent as always just waits. Waits for you to make the first move.

Exhaling deeply, face wrinkled in frustration and tears welling in your eyes, you turn to face him and stammer out the words you had never hoped to say as an unmarried woman; "Billy- I- We- We're going to have a baby."

His eyes grow wide like saucers, pupil so blown it fully eclipses his beautifully blue eyes, mouth wide in shock - frozen. He stands there frozen for a beat. Pitter-patter. Two beats pass. Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter. Three beats approach but you cannot take it anymore.

You find yourself running towards the door, tears falling now - Stupid. How could you be so stupid? How could you be so naive? Of course. You should have never put yourself in this position. What could Billy do for you now? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Your hand gripped the shining golden door handle, almost like a beacon to your salvation, but before you could turn the knob you felt it. His hand. His hand no longer tender but sturdy and stalwart, his muted calls now came into focus as you heard him finally speak; "Just wait a minute love," "N- no Billy I don't want to hear it-" "I love you alright!"

That got your attention, tears stilling like a serene lake on your cherry tomato cheeks as you turned to face him; "I've loved ya since the minute I laid eyes on ya and I'm not gonna let you go. Not now. Not ever." His eyes narrowed, gaze fixated to yours; resolute in his decision; his jaw was set and lips pulled in a tight thin line. You had never seen him so headstrong, apart from when he mused about his dreams of becoming a soldier.

"Billy-" "I- I mean it. A-and I'm gonna tell my mam that I'm gonna marry you-" He moved forward, head held high with squared shoulders and chest puffed out, but you stopped him, small hands reaching his willowy chest.

"You want to marry me?"

He stopped dead in his tracks at that eyes scanning the room for absolutely anything else to look at, he was still your little Billy at heart no matter how much he tried to play soldier; "O-of course I do-" he rubbed at the back of his head, messing up his perfectly combed short cut.

A slight giggle left your lips as he licked the back of his hand to try and slick the pointy hairs, you reached upwards to flatten his hair back down and reached for his hat that he had left on the side table by the door to place on top of his head.

It was easy. Easy to imagine your whole life with Billy in this moment; waking up in the morning to make him breakfast, fix his tie that had inevitably gotten off kilter with his faffing and press a sweet kiss to his lips as he left for work at the barracks while your pesky kids ran around your feet.

"Well, if you want to marry me, I think you better ask." his baby blues softened into soft crescents as wrinkles formed on his darling face, his signature coy smile returning as he got down on one knee and proposed.

Of course you accepted. You both married very quickly with a big party at The Halcyon.

Billy continued to be his usual shy but beautiful self - he did not like to leave your side during the pregnancy but you still had work to do at the hotel, though the load had slightly lightened thanks to the staff. He was buzzing around you like a bee to sweet nectar, but awfully shy when the men at work would tease him about your swift baby bump appearing.

But that was your Billy; gentle, reserved and kind. He grew in confidence throughout your marriage, each child following quickly after the last so he had to get used to the teasing.

Michael Gavey

It was a cold winter's day when you told Michael - the bracing wind bit at your skin on the walk to his dorm room, almost punishing you for what you had done.

Staying at Oxford over the Christmas holiday to be with your long term boyfriend was one thing, but being pregnant was a whole different ball game.

Michael's logical, pragmatic, hell even aloof at times. These were not character flaws but simply who he was, and you loved him for that - the way his brain would tick overtime in solving puzzles in minutes and equations in seconds. He was not unfeeling but perhaps a tad unaware.

That apprehension wracked through your body as you reached his dorm's door, the snow beneath your feet crunching and trees stripped bare against a pale sky, perhaps bleakly shadowing your fate.

His dorm room was clean, spotless as usual with little personal affects, save for the mathematics posters and framed photos of you both. You sat on the edge of the bed adjacent to him, your hands clutching the hot chocolate he had made you while he took relaxed gulps from his cup, not even bothering to look away from his 'Schaum's Outline of Linear Algebra' textbook.

Warmth filled you now, not just from the hot drink that awoke your numb bones but also from the softness of it all - Michael sipping from his mug while reading on safe comfy sheets, it was so domestic. It was hard. Hard not to think of what your future could hold if he accepted it.

"Something bothering you love?" his sky-blue eyes flitting to you for just a second. Only a second. "U-uh n-no! why would-" "Oh, its just that you were staring." "I wasn't staring-" "mmhmm" he licked the tip of his long lithe finger and turned the page of his book without a care in the world.

Now. Now is the time.

"Michael I-" "Hold on a minute love, nearly done with this chapter." "It's important-" "And so is my academic performance" Your hands clutched the mug tighter, biting your lip in frustration it is no wonder how the cup never shattered or how you never drew blood.

Sensing your frustrations he turned to face you, glasses on the bridge of his nose and voice low; "You can wait can't you? You're always so patient for me."

He turned back to his book to flip another page, it felt as if this secret was eating you from the inside out - You couldn't wait. Not today.

"I'm pregnant Michael" you blurted out, downing what was left of your beverage and placing the cup on the bedside table.

And you waited. Waited for something. Really. Anything? Any reaction at all. But it never came, he simply kept turning the pages.

"Did you hear me? I'm fucking pregnant Michael."

He did not react. It felt as if the whole world would collapse at his silence, how could he be so callous? Perhaps he always was. Perhaps this was always the real Michael. Perhaps you were always too busy caught up in the whimsy of it, glasses rose tinted as always.

"But that's not possible love, we used protection." "I- I know, but maybe the condom broke or there was a leak?" you stammered, heart pounding in your chest

He snorted at that and kissed his teeth "Or maybe you were out with those vapid cunts that you call 'friends' and one thing led to another-" "Sweet baby Jesus Michael!" Great, you were even sounding like him now "You know I would never do that!" "Do I?" His gaze remained glued to his book but you could tell he was angry, his nostrils flared, eyes narrowed in disdain and lips pressed tight into a thin line.

"Yes. Yes you do!" You weren't sure whether you wanted to scream or cry, as cheeks flushed red and eyes stung with tears, instead you reasoned; "Who was there for you when Oliver dumped you for Catton and his gang of losers?" a light laugh left his lips at that. Pragmatic. Logical. Michael was all those things; "Who cheered you on during your exams?" "Not that I needed it." Confident, bordering on arrogant - that was your Michael; "Who loved you when you were afraid you weren't good enough?"

His eyes wavered, shrouded in an unspoken sadness, "And who bought you that stupid poster about Pi?" His eyes regained their light at that as he turned his head to the poster; "You." "Yes, me."

"But we were safe, we-" "I know." "We did everything right-" "I know." His brow furrowed deeply, lines formed ridges along his forehead but eyes still returning to his book and skimming quickly as if to finish the page.

He huffed in exasperation, dogearing the page before slamming his textbook closed and placing it on his bedside table he turned to you, pushing up his wire framed glasses. Silence. There was nothing to say yet hundreds of things to discuss.

"What do you want to do?" he asked, eyes looking down towards your stomach. "I- I don't know Michael, it's all so much" tears finally spilled from your eyes in buckets as you pulled at your cuticles.

Finally all your frustrations fell from your lips like a torrent, concerns over your futures, your degree, career changes - it was so overwhelming and Michael just sat there listening rubbing calming circles on the back of your hand.

It felt as if a weight had been lifted and you could finally breathe, the room was quiet as you blew your nose and wiped your cheeks.

Michael suddenly sat up and made direct eye contact with you, intense. He was still as intense as always. "Two years."

"W-what?" w-was this fucker doing maths this whole tIME?! "Two years." He looked at you as if the answer was obvious. It was not. He sighed; "Based on my calculations it should set us back by two tears, that's accounting for any slight issues and job scarcity, but-"

"Wh-what are you saying love? You- you want to keep the baby?" he looks at you stunned as if there was any other option; "Of course. Why wouldn't I? D-do you not-" "No- no, of course I do. It's just- I didn't think-" "That I would?" He tilts his head shocked, mouth agape; "Of course I would. There's probably another little genius in there."

He smiles at that and shuffles closer to you on the bed, one hand at your belly and the other at your waist.

Silence fills the room again. All feels safe. All feels warm. Perhaps Michael wasn't as cold as the frigid winter, perhaps he was always as warm as a mug of steaming hot chocolate. Or perhaps you were the only one that could melt his glacial exterior to reveal his inner warm core.

As the pregnancy continued, you both remained fixated on your studies. But Michael was milder now, more considerate. He made sure you were always well taken care of, a little too well taken care of sometimes. He spent countless hours in the library researching the best diets, developmental stages, how your body would change - absolutely everything. He knew how you were meant to feel, look and act before you did.

He had timers for everything; how long to nap, how much exercise to do, how much studying, when to take your vitamins; it was borderline excessive. But all he did, he did for you and the baby. That is how you knew he was going to be a good father, that night with his head stuck in 'What to Expect when you're Expecting' by Murkoff and the yellow light from the shitty student lamp illuminating his angular features; "Five minutes before bed love." He never even lifted his gaze from the book, too busy scanning pages of diagrams of God knows what, to check the time. But that was your Michael. Attentive and caring, but in his own way.

Joseph

Your feet carried themselves along the moors, the air bracing as it flicks your thin nightdress to and fro, the scent of heather carried along the wind as the distant rustling of hardy shrubs, babbling of far off brooks and calls of peregrines reach your ears. The ground is uneven and hardy as the earth ever turns and twists beneath your feet, it would be very easy for you to meet your doom out here; to trip and drown in the hidden marshes that litter the landscape. But you journey forward, you must reach him - his lantern light calling out to you like a beacon in the distance.

You hadn't bothered to change into something more suitable for the cold harsh night, the shock guiding you to him - indecision often plagued you, but with Joseph it was easy. He could take control. No, he would take control. Like he always did.

Behind the sweet smile and tender baby blues was a devil, a devil that had captured you heart, soul, mind and body. He would give as much as you could take and take you would. Anything he would give you was yours and yours alone.

But not now, not now that your lives would be entwined forever. Finally you reached the barn. Harsh wood scraped at your feet and eyes wide like saucers in numbing shock.

"What's a bad girl like you doing out?" He stands from the barrel he was sitting on in blind dominance, peeling an apple with his sharp butchering knife before placing it into his mouth. The juice spills from it and makes its way down his devilish grin.

"Hmm? What's this? Too much of a spoiled girl to answer Joseph back?" He steps closer confidently, hand reaching for the bridle on the wall he shakes it towards you and places the knife back onto his belt "C'mere and be a good girl for Joseph now."

Stepping forward, the shadows clear and he can finally see what state you are in; hands balled into fists leaving crescent marks on your skin, nightdress sheer and covered in sweat as the hem is dirtied with mud, skin pallid and lips red raw where you have chewed them excessively - something was not right.

"Ay ay, what's the matter love?" tone softer now, he dropped what he held in his hands and ran up to behold you, eyes changing from that predatory twilight to gentle sky blue.

Your eyes met his "I'm sorry." "What for?" Confusion marred his face like a scar "I'm with child my love." They blew wide now, brows knitted in surprise; "Well, that's nothing to be embarrassed about is it love?"

He was always so kind your Joseph. He cared. Cared so deeply for others he often neglected himself, instead taking charge and whisking all your worries away and now, now all you brought him was grief.

"No one will want me now Joseph." The light faded from his eyes, stormy blue ones in an unspoken melancholy replaced all hope he had. He inhaled deeply before steeling himself;"I- I'll still have ya. I-If you won't be too embarrassed of me." His lips pulled into a slight smile at that before disappearing at your deadened expression, his warm hands reached for your frozen cold ones; "Let's get you in the warm, c'mere."

And you did as he told you like you always did. Silence fell between you as his large veined hands kept themself anchored to you, almost as if you would float away into one of those gurgling bogs.

"Why would I be embarrassed of you Joseph?" That broke the silence, but neither of you moved.

"Well, it doesn't look right- someone like you with someone like me?" You moved to face him now as his head remained glued to where your hands lay.

"Someone like you? What's wrong with someone like you?" "Well," his eyes darting between your unwavering gaze and where your bodies met, you urged him on with a nod of the head; "'Suppose if you think nothing is wrong with me, then nothing is." His gaze met yours in determination now, eyes as clear as the skies on a cloudless day overlooking the moors.

"I like you the way you are, always 'ave. You'd think you'd know that by now my love." You felt your lips twitch upward, eyes wrinkling in adoration, the warmth finally returning to your skin.

"So you'll have me?" He leaned closer to you now, his mutton chops grazing against your soft cheek and nose bumping against yours; "Aye" He leaned even closer and planted a deep chaste kiss on your lips; "After all, I am your good girl aren't I?" you teased, predatory eyes returned and with a growl resonating deep within his chest, he pulled you close to him by the waist so you sat on his lap; "We'll have to see about that one won't we?" "Joseph!" you swatted him playfully at that "You'll have to be taught a lesson or two Mrs. Joseph."

You both married quickly in your local parish before anyone caught wind of your pregnancy. Indulgent, Joseph was always indulging you.

Still in service to the Earnshaws work needed to be completed even when your bump swelled to full roundness. You always caught glances of him from across the courtyard where he would look at you with a wide toothy grin and adoring eyes, shooting you a clandestine wink if no one was watching - or worse, pull you away into the barn for 'martial duties'.

You were sure they had caught on, especially Cathy with her grin twisting and turning like the hardy landscape and peregrine eyes. But it was too late now, he was yours and yours alone and you were his and his alone. Until the babe arrived, the perfect combination of you both. Joseph was just as indulging with the babe as he was with you.

If it cried, he was the first one up. If it needed feeding, he brought it to you. If it needed to just be held, he would hold them as if he needed to for air. But that was your Joseph. Adoring, indulgent, kind Joseph.

Michael Gavey

Michael has a basement 1000%

He's practical, logical, he has thought it all through.

All in all, he's made quite a comfy space for you down there, everything is decorated in your favourite colours with reference to your interests.

You have all the amenities you might need; a bed, a sofa, fluffy rugs and blankets, pillows, books, etc... But he will bring down your food himself and watch you eat just to make sure. If you're really good he might even give you a little bell so you can call on him whenever you need.

But if you've been bad by not following his detailed and precise instructions.. you're getting sedated and tied to the bed for a little while as he scolds you for your bad behaviour.

He just likes to watch you - maybe even has a big camera set up with all the angles he needs.

He also definitely has some toys he would like to play with.. and definitely likes to make you solve maths equations to get what you want (including your climax). He does love to see you beg.

He probably met you at work.

I think he has a one-sided infatuation with you. You've probably only made small talk with him and been polite but that was enough to fuel his obsession.

Michael is intelligent and confident.

Kidnapping you is the riskiest thing he has ever done because he knows you family who love you, he knows you have a job you have to show up for, he knows people will miss you and come looking.

And he definitely doesn't want it to be traced back to him.

He plans for ages, not only by designing your little room but also by following you home and working out your whole routine. Michael knows what you are going to do before you do - you are that consistent to him. A beautiful mathematic pattern.

So when word has gotten out that you have gone missing, he is able to craft the perfect alibi and act as if he saw you nothing more than a bothersome colleague.

Ettore

Fucking hell Ettore...

It began by him simply staring at you unwaveringly. It was basically impossible to not notice his interest in you. But you brushed him off like all the others did.

But he got closer, eyes more leering until he would corner you at every opportunity - doing chores? he's in the dark corner of the room. In the box? He's waiting outside to use it after you. In the dining room? He slams his food tray next to yours and sits on the table adjacent to you.

He knows you're uncomfortable. He knows you know how he feels. He knows that all the others know. He simply does not care.

He is predatory - a wolf in the sheep's pen. And the wolf always gets what the wolf wants.

He becomes more possessive, maybe even trying to speak to you or just touch you.

He absolutely hates when you go to Dibs' office and gets inseminated, possibly by some other guys' sperm, that should be his and only his. So he starts his campaign of intimidating the other guys to not donate, he cums so fucking much just to make sure it is his seed that takes.

When that does not satiate him he comes for you.

If you allow him to touch you, he would still be rough and manhandle you but enjoy the feeling of you giving in to him - how now he can possess you not just in mind but in body.

But if you resisted it spurs him on even more; he will not care if you like it, you are his to possess, you are his to enjoy, you are his fuck box now.

He is very possessive of you. You belong to him. He treats you more like a possession than a human.

Ettore will grab you at any moment of the day and just lock you in a closet, strap you to his bed, fuck you even if the others are watching, especially if the others are watching.

If you get any help from the crew, it's not good. He will threaten them, he will beat them, he will kill them.

He would literally kill everyone to have you. He would literally have to be killed to not have you. He would literally kill you if he could not have you.

Aemond Targaryen

If you are a maid it would be much easier for Aemond, he would simply have you be the only one attending to him.

He would observe you intently, first giving you simple jobs like fetching his meals and running errands.

But as his obsession grew he would have you find him in compromising positions, perhaps half-dressed. You would avoid his gaze but he would tilt your head up with his long, lithe fingers.

Later, you are attending him in the bath and dressing him. He would love how shy you became at this athletic form, admiring the blush on your cheeks.

If you are a lady, he would implore his mother and sister to make you a lady-in-waiting to 'benefit' the realm. If you were married, he would simply have your poor husband die in a 'random' bandit attack on his way home from the Keep.

He will find excuses to visit you in his sister's room and watch you like a hawk. He'll say he enjoys the view from the window here, bring you both cakes and other treats, ask for his clothing to be embroidered or pretend to read. And you will notice, he wants you to notice. He likes to see you blushing red and fidgeting under his gaze as you struggle to thread the cotton into the eye of the needle.

Either way he will have you placed in a chamber close to his, one that only he has the key to. When his infatuation grows he will lock you in there to make sure you never escape.

You are at a mercy to his whims - though he often just wants to be held by you in the late hours of the night.

If you were to escape and he were not under duress or he 'lets you go', he would hunt you down until he found you - It's like a game to him of cat and mouse; predator and prey. And he has learnt it is always better to be predator.

I can see him flying on Vhagar to see if he could spot you in the crowded city or amongst the trees. He always manages to find you and gets a kick out of it with the proud, upturned crook of his lips.

If you escape during a time of high stress or he cannot find you, once he does his rage gets the better of him as he roughly drags you back to King's Landing by the forearm until it is bruised while chastising your behaviour.

He does care though and will ask the maester for some salve for your arm, pleading for you to forgive him with wide eyes as he nuzzles between your breasts.

If something were to happen to you or you were to die, Aemond would blame himself for not being able to save you. It would result in the death of thousands and eventually his own as he turns the world to scorching ash beneath him.

Joseph

Joseph probably sees you first in town, you might be the butcher's daughter or a dressmaker.

He is doting, kind and sweet to you, shy and always stumbling over his words - you find him cute in that way.

You definitely find yourself falling for his boyish charms.

But underneath lurks something deeper, something darker that you could never have imagined...

He imagines you naked dangling from the butcher's hook in the courtyard like one of the hogs your father slaughtered, ready for him to dissect you and break you apart.

Or he imagines you tied to a post in the stables with a bridle stuck between your tongue, mouth foaming and eyes glassy as you bend to his will.

Maybe one day he invites you to see the Earnshaw estate or proposes a fleet marriage and to leave your father a note that you were going into town alone for supplies, but promises you will be home soon.

Either way, you end up following him and find yourself trapped in the barn.

If you behave and be quiet so no one can find you, he treats you kindly, trying to appeal to your affection for him. He'll bring you blankets, a chamberpot, a change of clothes, warm water and set up a hay bail bed.

But if you try to escape or scream, you find yourself tied to a post in the barn with the bridle in your mouth to muffle your cries for help. He won't hurt you. He wants you to want him. To crave submission and to beg for his dominance.

Genyen

Genyen 100% targets wealthy women

He probably saw you walking out of Harrods or Waitrose one day and corners you in his robes asking about donations.

He preys on your kindness, your willingness to lend a hand and your loneliness.

He is out there same time, same day, every fucking week just to get a glimpse of you and strike up a conversation.

He probably gets so fucking giddy thinking about seeing you and the anticipation of taking your money with his sweet talking. And how you look at him with your empathetic eyes through your lashes and pouting lips. It definitely turns him on.

If he sees someone else out there with a donation tin, he is not having it. You are HIS. He will frighten them off.

He eventually has you offering to buy him something from the cafe. You stroke his slender arm while listening to his sob story about his awful stepmum and how the other monks are treating him at the temple.

You end up buying him lunch and giving him some money, him. Not the temple. No false pretenses of charity. Just him.

Hook, line and sinker. He has you.

One day you see him out there looking all sad with no collection tin and a small backpack.

Oh poor thing has nowhere to live :((( he got kicked out of the temple for not bringing in enough money :((( and before you know it, you're offering him to stay at yours.

Bad decision.

 He has you cut off your 'toxic' family and friends and confines you to the house. The garden is your only sanctuary as it allows you to honour and worship the Buddha.

Genyen bleeds your bank account dry. He takes all financial responsibility as you need to dedicate yourself to your 'spiritual journey'.

He definitely takes you doggy style on the soft grass in the garden after making a big purchase and praising you for your dedication.

Billy Washington

We saw how obsessive he was with Becky, he is going to be even more obsessive with you.

You probably work at his local pub, corner shop or job centre. The minute he saw you it was like the world had stopped - He had been fiddling with the little change he had in his wallet when he looked up and saw you staring at him with kind eyes.

He dropped his wallet and stammered out a sorry. He was cute. A loser, but cute.

You picked up the correct change and sent him on his way. That place is now his favourite spot to visit. He gets so fidgety and shy when he sees you but behind closed doors he is a menace.

He has 1000% stalked you on social media. He's looked up your facebook, your nan's facebook. heck even your uncle's dog's facebook.

He knows all your online accounts and has even created several burner profiles just to stalk you. He likes every single one of your pictures and keeps them on his phone/computer so he can goon to them later.

He knows he has a problem but he just can't stop himself - It's obsessive, weird and creepy but the forbiddeness makes him want to do it more.

He tries to go cold turkey and it fails massively, he ends up just following you after your shift and has a massive wank in the bushes while watching you from the window of your house. He definitely goes home and looks up girls that look like you on porn sites and watches them next to your pictures so he can imagine it's you and him.

The final straw is when he probably ends up on some dodgy subreddits which feeds into his infatuation, loneliness and feelings of being unworthy.

He totally sees you with some guy from work having a laugh over break and it all comes crashing down - he's tearing up the place and threatening the guy. Stalking you home quite obviously and watching you. He has to do something. He has to make you his.

Billy Taylor

Billy Taylor would be an interesting yandere, he's softer - more akin to following you around like a lovesick puppy.

He meets you at work and is very shy around you, stuttering and stammering, shaking like a leaf. It gets worse when you ask if he's alright and look at him with those caring eyes.

He tries to avoid you, preferring to sneak quick glances your way blushing when you notice and give him a smile.

He'll help you find your way around the hotel and help with your chores, but it is all an excuse to smell your perfume so he can go to the department store and pick out the right one to spray on his pillow (which he definitely smells while he humps his bed at night).

He is so very friendly and personable, very innocent seeming and pure. But in his diary contains the most dirty and disgusting things about you imaginable. He feels so ever guilty about it when he sees you the next morning, but your unassuming expression makes it worse.

He has a list of your likes/dislikes, hobbies and work schedule, sometimes he fiddles with the switch board just so he can hear your breathing on the other end of the line.

His mind swirls with thoughts of you constantly - he finds himself hiding in corridors until you walk by so he can gather strands of your hair and going into the kitchen after you've had lunch so he can search the bin for anything you may have thrown out.

He loves collecting those types of things and keeping them in an envelope tucked away in his drawer with his diary. If you ever have to stay the night at The Halcyon, watch out because your panties are definitely going missing.

And he is definitely wanking off with them on his face in the nearest storage closet.

He couldn't kidnap you with his mum and little sister at home but he is content to just be around you and collect his little souvenirs.

Abraham

Abraham is the type of man to admire you from afar – he enjoys watching you on a summer’s day in your little summer dresses and flowered straw hat. 

You’ve known him since you were both little; running around playing tag and kiss chase – that's when he fell for you. When you ran up and gave him a little peck on cheek all those years ago. 

He’s been obsessed with you ever since. Often thinking of how you would make the perfect wife and mother to his children. He desperately wants to see you pregnant in that little gingham sundress of yours, belly all round and needing him by your side at all times, little straw hat off kilter and flowers withering but ecstatic as he picks you some fresh ones and laces them into your hat. 

He’s honestly probably already asked your family for your hand in marriage; his prized thoroughbred chestnut horse named daisy as his bride price.

He spots you one day next to the stables and can’t help but get a closer look and hides behind the horses, you’re chatting to another man chopping wood, sweat thick on his brow in the summer heat drinking water from the glass that you brought him. 

You had never brought him water before and he was your fiance (in his own mind) 

Abraham was not having that. Late at night he pulls the other man to the side and threatens him to leave you alone, if the guy challenges him then he’s getting beat up. 

He is just so possessive of you. He can’t let ignorant, selfish men taint you. You were his bride. His wife. The mother of his children. 

His approach becomes more aggressive then, cornering you and staring with his steely blue gaze and tight lips. If he hears of you chatting with another man again, he corners you when you come to the stables and gives you a right talking to. Reminding you of who you belong to. 

You will be his wife soon and good wives don’t go chatting to other men. Good wives stay at home and push up their pretty skirts for their hardworking husbands. 

He might even pull your skirt up then and there just so he can see your pretty panties, turning you around like a show-horse so he can see your behind. If you push your skirts down, he will simply pull down the top of your dress to sneak at your cleavage. 

If you behave then he will definitely let you go and hope his point got across – He is sweet, really. 

But if not or you keep misbehaving, he will definitely keep you in the stables, probably tied to a post as he continued to work on brushing his horses until he can get you back to his caravan and lock you in there for safe keeping. 

He definitely pressures your parents to move the marriage along and before you know it you’re married to him with a baby on the way!