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#so i may or may not have done some stupid shit to my body
bitchy-peachy · 4 months
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Witchy talk:
Being a left-hand path witch doesn't mean I'm incapable or unwilling to help others, including strangers. I will bless those who helped me with eternal gratitude so all their future endeavors will be smoother.
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valsdelulucorner · 1 month
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obey me headcannons because why not
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Lucifer is so strict with his brothers because he doesn't want what happened to Lilith to happen to them, he cant bare to loose another sibling. His back is also extremely fucked over from his massive workload and from when he lost afew of his wings, his wing bones were connected to his spine so when he lost those, his back has never truly been the same.
Mammon is actually alot smarter then people think, this man is a absolute legend at counting, multiplying and maths. He may be dense and stupid at times but the mans a legend at math, i like the idea that if your studying with him he helps you out with maths, feeling smug and proud when he helps you get answers right. I also like the idea that he has many piercing holes but is just not bothered to more then two in at a time, if its a fancy event or if its a club event, he'll put more in
Levi is either scrawny or has some chub, you cannot change my mind. The only exercise he gets is chasing mammon around or running around for events. That man survives off of energy drinks and sugary foods, i cant seeing him having full blown rock hard abs, maybe some, but not rock hard abs like beel. I also like the headcannon that he has scales around his neck, cheeks and forehead, another reason he has his fringe covering his eyes.
Satan has alot of scars and scratches on his hands from punching walls, attempting to pet wild kitties and from other things to get his anger out. I feel like when Asmo come in to redo Satan's nails, he draws over the little scars with pen, making them into little flowers or hearts
Asmo has dry skin around his nose from how much moisture he normally has on his face thanks to face masks, skin care and make up. The buildup of all of the produce and the fact there is almost always something on his face has left his skin a little dry to his liking so he adds more product to fix it. I also love thinking about how asmo probably has some faint freckles over his shoulders and nose but he normally hides them, he doesn't want to be seen as anything but perfect.
Beel is not a child so people should stop treating him like one, he has sworn, he has killed and eaten people before, he is a 1000+ year old demon who has seen some shit go down, people should stop infantizing him. Beel has stretch marks around his torso and arms, from constantly working out to eating half of devildom, i feel like his body changes rapidly due to his diet and his working out. He also has matching bracelets with Belphie, his one has a charm of the sun.
Belphie is either dead quite or the loudest snorer, there is no in-between. He could probably be so quite that his brothers loose him for a good day or two, when they think they've checked everywhere belphie starts snoring, leading them straight to him. He also sleeps in the most random spots aswell, next to the potted plant, standing in the middle of the corridor, behind the door, you name it. When this man is tired and done for the day, he will find a way to sleep.
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5th time saying im back but its been a busy week, exams have been kicking my ass rn, not to mention I have a biology exam tomorrow morning so yay, fun times
I havent done this in a while, im starting to get back into the groove of things lol
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callmerainman · 7 months
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First Man on the Earth still couldn't hit this | sinner!Adam x fem!sinner!Reader
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pairing. sinner!Adam x fem!sinner!Reader
themes. enemies to lovers, Adam reincarnates as a sinner, Reader is a royal guard.
spoilers! for Hazbin Hotel S1 finale
tw! mentions of sex, suggestive themes in general, the feminism leaving my body as I write for Adam
When Adam came back as a sinner and asked to be redeemed at the Hotel, no one was having that shit lmao.
But, as always, Charlie believes in second chances and it didn't feel right to her to just not let him in.
At only one condition: he would always have to be supervised by you, Lucifer's royal guard.
You were skilfully trained to become a guard at the royal family's services, and Lucifer had just the right mission for you in mind.
You accepted gladly, finally a task that wasn't guarding his rubber ducks.
But then you meet Adam, and you start immediately regretting the ducks.
You both find each other totally INSUFFERABLE.
He hates the idea of someone watching over him, so he lashes at you multiple times a day, as you talk back to him.
"Can't you just not stick your fucking angelic spear in my cereals?"
Despite your hatred for him, you took the mission very seriously and watched over him to check all his moves, just in case he had bad intentions.
But if you could, oh you would have ran away from his repellent presence the second you saw him at the Hotel.
He despises you so much that he doesn't even dare to flirt with you. You heard right. ADAM.
It takes some next level skill to get on his nerves to the point where he doesn't even want to sleep with you. And he remarks it a lot.
You do the same honestly.
"An old hag like you can only DREAM of having a piece of the original dick!"
Your face distorts in disgust "I would rather swallow all of Lucifer's rubber ducks than even think about it!"
At least you agree on something.
So your dynamic mainly consists of fighting, shouting at each other, name calling, pointing at his throat with your spear, Charlie separating you two as soon as you start throwing hands.
Speaking of Charlie, she had some special classes to make you two get along but they made things worse if anything.
One of them lead to the biggest fight you and Adam ever had.
As soon as you both get up to go to your respective rooms, still shouting insults at each other, Angel Dust raises one of his hands.
"Is it me or I sense some unspoken sexual tension?"
Everybody groans in disapproval, but immediately starts placing bets. Angel Dust is the only one who bets that you two will end up fucking.
In your room, you try to cool down but Adam is just making your job impossible. You're in fact fuming just by thinking about him and his stupid pretty face and his way of talking back to you.
Exasperated, you knock at his door, face already hot in anger. You want to set things straight.
As soon as he opens the door and sees you, he's already annoyed.
"You're making my job fucking impossible, you know?! If you really want to redeem yourself maybe you can start collaborating instead of being the most fucking annoying being to ever land in Hell!" you scream, pointing a finger at him.
Adam gets close to your face, towering over you "I'm not the one who asked to have someone fucking glued to my ass, you know?!"
Neither of you noticed your proximity, not until your foreheads were touching and you were breathing heavily against each other's faces, both hot. From anger, or...you know.
And then, something happens.
You both just lean in and kiss.
Oh boy Angel Dust may be onto something.
The moment you and Adam start to make out is the one you realize that all that fighting was your way of denying something that is now obvious.
The magnetic, undeniable sexual tension that wasn't just some weird figment of imagination.
In a matter of seconds you're all over each other and Adam drags you inside his room. You shut the door, just in case.
After you're done you find something else to agree on! 1. Best sex ever 2. No one has to know 3. Never again
You end up having sex again that very same day. And everybody knows because they heard you downstairs. A very lucky day for Angel Dust's finances!
Neither of you knew that the others at the Hotel were aware so you two would try to sneak out to have sex discreetly.
"We'll go upstairs to...uh...FIGHT! You know? Because we always fight! And we're totally not going upstairs to have sex...'cause we would never have sex with each other!"
Except none of that is discreet, you two go absolutely wild at it.
Meanwhile, you and Adam start to open up to each other more, mainly during pillow talk. You find out that you have a common music taste, and humor. Conversations flow so naturally, something that you would have never guessed.
Something blossoms, and you and Adam realize that you are head over heels for each other.
In the end, Charlie brings up to you two that everybody at the Hotel knows that you have been hooking up. On one side, because she's genuinely happy that you two get along in one way or another. Second, Alastor threatened to obliterate you both if you don't stop exposing him to your obscenities.
So you and Adam decide to stop keeping it a secret, to both yourselves and the gang, and officially become a couple.
Let's say that you still are all over him but in a very different way.
The other guests at the Hotel start regretting the times when you two would just shout at each other incoherently.
Lots of PDA, that's the point.
Not in front of Alastor though, you don't want to risk anything.
But what's more redeeming than a really, really, really stupid love?
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cryptidghostgirl · 7 months
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Heya! I just found you and I knew that I immediately had to put in a request!! May I ask for Alastor x chubby reader?? With hurt and comfort?? Where a random demon makes her feel bad for being chubby and Alastor comforts her AND CONFESSES that he's in love with her 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ and then in true Alastor fashion he rips the demon apart for making reader feel bad PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
A/N of course!! this is good vibes. yes. 11/10 for the adorable scale. I've been writing so much angst,, the fluff request is so welcome. ALSO THIS GIF I FOUND FOR THE IMAGE OF THIS STORY IS SO CUTE WTF.
Sweet (Alastor x Chubby!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: Hurt//comfort, tw for body image stuff/issues, gore but make it cute, uh... fluff. Sickeningly sweet fluff. Extra TW body image stuff. May or may not have channeled some of my ten years experience with eds into this one besties, sorry about that.
Word Count: 3,330
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
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The truth of it was: Y/n knew exactly how pretty she was. That didn't keep it from hurting when people made unprovoked, snide remarks about her weight. More than one thing can be true at the same time.
She was kind of used to it by now. People in the human world had been rude on occasion, she'd had doctors occasionally act discriminatorily towards her because of her weight, a shitty date or partner or two who told her to lose it, but it had been nothing in comparison to Hell. It was Hell after all, home to the worst of the worst. Y/n tried to toughen up, thicken her skin. After a life on earth and another fifteen years down below she couldn't help but feel like it shouldn't hurt anymore. It still always did.
This one had been particularly bad. Y/n had stepped out of the hotel, intent on meeting a friend for lunch. She'd gotten all dressed up for it too, in her favorite outfit with her makeup done all pretty. She hadn't just felt good stepping out, she'd known she was hot. There had been a spring in her step and a coy smile on her face as she lowered her heart shaped sunglasses from the top of her head.
Five minutes, four blocks. That's all it took.
"Jesus, who let you outside in that?" the man had laughed, "Cover that shit up, I'm gonna vomit."
Y/n had sent her friend a text, saying she wasn't feeling well. She had apologized and asked to reschedule. Y/n had gone home.
Angel Dust had tried to approach her as she had stormed into the lobby but, she had brushed him off, rushing to her room. Y/n hand't meant to be rude. She had every intention of finding him later to apologize, the tears had just been pressing hotly behind her eyes and she needed to be alone. She loved Angel, trusted him, through of him as a brother but god, she did not want to cry in front of him. Not right now anyways, not over something so... so... stupid.
Y/n slammed the door to her room harshly behind her as she entered it, throwing herself onto the bed and burying her face in the pillow. In the comfort of pinks and piles of stuffed animals, she sobbed.
It wasn't even the comment that was getting to her anymore, although it had been a particularly awful one. No, what was upsetting her now was how she'd let it get to her. She felt stupid and weak and more than anything in the world she just wanted to rip the clothes off her body along with her skin and disappear from the physical world.
Her shoulders shook harshly, the pillow now damp. She was sure her makeup was a mess but didn't care. It wasn't like anyone was going to see her anyways, not until tomorrow at least. Y/n was trying to get redeemed but she wasn't trying to get made fun of. If she could keep this to herself, she was going to.
It wasn't that she didn't trust the others in the hotel. Y/n actually trusted them more than about anyone she'd met in Hell up to this point. They were kind and caring, invested in themselves and one another even if they pretended they weren't. There was just the fear. There was always the fear, the internal need for perfection, to show no weakness.
Almost as if the universe was fucking with her, as if it could tell exactly what she didn't want, there was a knock at the door. Y/n groaned audibly into the pillow. Of course, just when she wanted to be left alone. The knock came again and she slowly sat up, still sniffling and hurriedly wiping her eyes.
"Uh, yeah." she called, trying her best to keep her voice from trembling and praying she didn't look too much of a mess even if it was probably just Charlie or Angel, "It's open. Sorry."
Y/n's eyes widened slightly in shock as Alastor opened the door. Out of everyone in the hotel, he was probably the person she knew the least. She made the effort of course. Despite knowing his status and his history, she tried to play nice and make friends. It was he who avoided her, not the other way around.
To be perfectly honest, Alastor made Y/n a bit nervous. It wasn't because of his reputation. They were in Hell for heaven's sake, everyone had one of those. No, it was the way her heart beat a little faster when he was in the room. It was the way that every time she looked at him, she secretly hoped she'd catch him looking at her too.
Alastor had never been in Y/n's room before. It was all satin and pink and lace. He couldn't help but think it suited her to a t. It was all perfect, she was perfect. Except here she was crying, just as Angel had said she might be.
What had happened was this: Alastor had over heard Angel saying something to Husk. They were at the bar, Angel was drinking as always, and saying he was worried about Y/n. Alastor had pressed and when Alastor pressed, he always got his way. Apparently Y/n had come back to the hotel mere minutes after having left to go get lunch with a friend. Angel said she had seemed really agitated, genuinely upset.
That had made Alastor angry. Not normal angry more delicate than that, more minute. It made him upset, he hurt for Y/n in her theoretical pain. He wasn't used to this whole feeling things thing. His body on autopilot, Alastor himself had been surprised when he found himself before her door, poised to knock.
Y/n watched him, her eyes glassy and her cheeks flushed. There were dark circles of mascara beneath her eyes that matched the stains on her pillow behind her and her pretty dress had a few wrinkles in it.
"Whatever is the matter, my dear?" Alastor asked, stepping fully in to the room.
"Oh, nothing." Y/n tried to brush him off, looking away towards the window as she pulled a stuffed animal into her lap.
It was her trembling lip that gave her away. Alastor let the door fall shut behind him. Y/n turned as she felt the bed dip beside her, her mouth slightly open.
"I would advise you not to lie to me."
He hadn't meant for it to sound like that. He saw the way Y/n stiffened instinctually at his words, at his tone. Alastor didn't know how to exist in a non threatening way, its how he'd lived his whole life in this world and the one before it. It was how he protected himself. He took a breath.
"What I mean," he slowly corrected himself, "is that you don't need to lie. I..."
He cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the way he was forcing himself to be honest. Honesty was, however, the only option. He saw the way Y/n's gaze was distant, her body tense. For the first time in his life, he wanted to help someone else. It was strange. Alastor submitted himself to the oddity of it all, the discomfort. It was his gift to her.
"I'm here to help."
"I..." Y/n trailed off, big wet tears pooling in her eyes, "It's nothing. I'm okay, really. It's stupid."
With a gentleness that surprised both of them, Alastor lifted a hand to her face, wiping a stray tear. He held it on the tip of his finger before his eyes, examining the way a jeweler would a diamond.
"If it's upsetting you this deeply, it's not stupid."
That was the last straw. Y/n, unable to hold herself back any longer, collapsed into his chest. Her body shook with sobs. Alastor held his arms out, unsure of what to do with them. It took him a second to comply with her unspoken request, wrapping them around her. He found himself rubbing small circles on her back, trying to soothe her.
There was a reason Alastor avoided Y/n and it was that the demoness made him feel things. Things he was unaccustomed to feeling, things that felt dangerous in their warmth and care. Bubbly little things that got caught in his chest and tied up his tongue. If he had thought about his actions, he wouldn't have come to her side but he hadn't and so, here he was. This was all unknown territory, he felt blind and alone in the dark. Alastor didn't like that.
They stayed like that for several minutes until Y/n was finally able to regain some control of her breathing. She calmed herself methodically, as if it was a ritual she was well practiced in. Alastor found himself wondering how many times she had felt like this, reacted to something in her life like this, and had no one there to hold her. He didn't like that thought. He couldn't decide what was worse, if no one ever had been there or if there was someone else who she wanted in times like this, someone other than him. Someone better, more well versed in the delicate intricacies of emotion.
She lifted herself from his chest, his arms falling from her back to his sides as she wiped the last few stray tears.
"I'm sorry." she half laughed, "I don't know what came over me... and I've ruined your suit."
Alastor looked down. There were indeed black stains from her running makeup on his jacket. Normally such a thing would irritate him to no end, anger him even. It was Y/n who had made them however and so, he didn't care. He turned back to her, shaking his head slightly.
"Nothing a wash can't fix. Now, why don't you tell me what happened?"
"It's stupid." Y/n shook her head, her eyes finding her hands in her lap.
She still held the stuffed animal there, a rabbit. She fiddled with it's ears absent mindedely, twisting them and rubbing them in a practiced manner.
"Y/n." Alastor gently warned and she sighed.
"It's just... something someone said to me. That's all."
Alastor's brow furrowed slightly at the notion.
"What did they say? Who was it?"
The words had fallen from him quicker than he had meant them to, more earnestly. He was grateful Y/n seemed to stuck in her own world to notice such a thing.
"Just some asshole making a comment about my weight. Saying that I shouldn't wear what I wear, saying the sight of me made them nauseous. The normal dickwad stuff. I should be used to it by now, I've been chubby all my life but... I don't know. It still just makes me want to disappear. To rip myself apart by the fistful, you know?"
Y/n looked up at Alastor when he didn't respond, her cheeks red with embaressment.
"I told you, it's du-"
"Who the fuck said it?" he asked through gritted teeth, trying his best to remain calm.
"Alastor, it's fine." Y/n sighed, "I don't know why you're getting so worked up about it. Like I said, I've heard it all before."
She made to turn back to the plushie in her lap but before she could, Alastor cupped her face gently in his hands.
"Al... what are you..."
"Y/n, you are stunning."
There he went again, not thinking. Y/n was dangerous, to be avoided. She paraded around in her sweet sundresses and angelic disposition, practically unfit to have been sent to Hell in the first place. She was the simple syrup in lemonade, she was the best mixed drink.
Her tongue ran gently over her lips, an innocent and thoughtless gesture on her part that sent his mind reeling as she mulled over his words. Her brow furrowed.
"Alastor, I-"
"You are the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on, living or dead."
There he went again, his tongue a million miles ahead of his brain. Y/n let out a light laugh, her head still in his hands.
"What?" Alastor asked, feeling the heat rush to his cheeks, "I mean it."
"I thought you hated me." Y/n confessed.
"Far from it, my sweet."
His voice was barley more than a whisper. Y/n looked away.
"You drive me to distraction."
Her presence was like some strange truth serum rushing through his veins, now he had started, he couldn't seem to stop.
"I've never... You're unlike anyone I've ever met. You shine in this dark place."
"Alastor, this is a lot." Y/n admitted after a moment.
"My apologies." he let go of her face, his heart sinking, "I did not intend to make you feel worse."
He should have known. Alastor, in his foolish frenzy, had forgotten himself, his legacy, his persona. How could someone as sweet as a sun ripened strawberry stolen straight from the bush feel anything towards him save fear?
"I'll go."
Alastor made to get up, had every intent to actually leave and give Y/n her space. At the felling of her small hand on his arm, he paused and turned back to her.
Y/n's face was bright red, she refused to meet his gaze. Her arm not holding him was wrapped tightly around her stuffed animal like a charm.
"No, please." she took a deep breath, meeting his eyes once again at last, "I... I think... you're rather... handsome... as well."
Her speech was halting, uncertain in its anxiety. His smile widened.
"You do now, do you?" he asked, lifting her head a little higher with a finger beneath her chin.
"Oh hush." she scolded him, "If anyone was going to lie out of the pair of us, I'm pretty sure it'd be you. I am trying to be redeemed, in case you've forgotten, and you probably just want my soul or some shit."
"How can I prove to you that the only way I want your soul is given willingly and out of contract?"
Y/n laughed again, a genuine joy.
"Pinky promise me."
She held up a hand and Alastor quickly locked pinkies with her.
"I meant every word I said. I've had... eyes for you for a while now. You are the rosy fingered dawn. You are... you're you. You are Y/n."
"I am Y/n, aren't I." she smiled cockily back.
It was a relief to see her return to her normal confident self.
"I meant everything I said too. I've... I've had eyes for you too, or whatever."
She looked away, her cheeks even brighter pink than before. Alastor let go of her pinky and, leaning forward, pressed a soft and tentative kiss to the top of their head. Y/n immediately snapped her head back to him. Before he could register what was happening, she had tackled him in a hug, throwing them both to the bed.
Looking down at him from her perch on his lap, she smiled brightly.
"Can I kiss you?"
The question took him by surprise. He had never kissed anyone before save the tender kiss on the cheek reserved for dear friends and close family. He hesitated in indecision, in uncertainty.
"You're allowed to say no." Y/n followed up, noticing his apparent discomfort, "I don't want to move things too fast for you."
Alastor shook his head, the truth of his own desire unexpected even to him.
"No. You can."
Y/n's smile widened as they dipped down, pecking him on the lips. His cheeks warmed as she straightened herself up again, her hands pressed flat against his chest.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that for."
She smelled sweet, she looked sweet, god, she probably even tasted sweet. His tongue darted out of his mouth across his lips jus ever so slightly, the flavor of her strawberry lipgloss fueling his infatuation.
"Do that again."
It didn't take long for Alastor to track down the demon in question that had sent Y/n spiraling that afternoon. After their promise had been made and she had agreed to the date he had proposed for the next day, she had spilled everything. Her head in his lap as he had run his fingers through her hair, she had complained liberally about the demon. Her complaints had, thankfully, included a full description of the man.
Once the hour was late and he was sure she was fast asleep along with everyone else in the hotel, Alastor had slipped out onto the streets. The demon was, of course, easy to locate. He was loud and distinctive. Alastor found him drunk in a bar harassing a woman. He watched, waiting patiently until the man left and when he did, Alastor followed him.
He cornered the demon, sending his shadows to torment the man. He was on his knees close to tears by the time Alastor finally decided to join in on the fun. He leered down at the demon, grinning from ear to ear.
"I heard you said something rather cruel today." he hummed.
"I didn't!" the man pleaded, "I swear!"
"Not even to a pretty little demon in heart shaped sunglasses?"
The man's eyes widened slightly in obvious recollection.
"I... fuck, I didn't know. I swear, I didn't know who she was. I didn't know she was with you!"
Alastor stretched in the darkness of the ally, his horns growing thorny and tall as he entered his true demon form. The man trembled in fear. It was pathetic, truly.
"It doesn't matter. You ruined her plans for the day and so, in return, I am going to ruin you."
With those final words, he pounced. The tongue of the man was the first thing to go, ripped with great force from his throat and tossed to the side.
Next were his ears, Alastor tore them from his head slowly. The man screamed, a choked and guttural sound through the blood in his throat. Alastor laughed shamelessly, his claws finding a home in the demon's stomach next.
He disemboweled the man with ease, careful to keep everything connected so he was still alive. Then, he went for the eyes, gouging them out in harsh slashing movements. Alastor straightened himself, looking down upon his mess of a creation.
"I would say that next time you will think before saying something like that again but, I think we both know there wont be a next time."
A strange sound left the demons throat, obviously a plea of mercy. Without a tongue, he could not articulate his wishes.
"What?" Alastor asked, putting a hand to his ear as he slowly returned to his normal appearance, "I am sorry but could you say that again? I couldn't quite make it out."
Another strangled, desperate sound left the man's throat. Alastor laughed.
"Well, I've given you a chance to beg for your life and you have chosen not to take it." he taunted, leaning back over the man, "I supposed that means you have opted for death. Very well."
In a single, swift movement he tore the man's throat from his neck. The demon twitched under him for a few seconds longer before at last stilling in death. Alastor examined his work for a moment before pulling himself to his feet. Without a glance back towards the body, he straightened his jacket and let his shadows take him from the ally.
Y/n was under his protection now. He had tried so long to avoid the call, the weakness, her charms pulling him in. At long last, he had succumbed and under his watch, no one was going to ever make her feel anything less than perfect ever again.
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A/N This is the first time I have ever written something like this, I hope it was okay.
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deezneezz · 1 month
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Leona & ADD
I got a few ppl (on twitter) wanting me to elaborate on Leona and ADD, so I figured I will share my thoughts here as well, please be nice it's just a personal hc. You don't have to agree at all!! Since it contains some personal experiences I ask of people to please be kind about it!
Anyway, Leona and ADD.
I think a lot of people usually agree on Floyd and Kalim having ADHD, but Leona actually shows a lot of lesser talked about traits of ADHD. Namely Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD), sensitivity to clothing/textures (he doesn't like restrictive clothes).
He also has the more commonly talked about traits of course, executive dysfunction being a big one. And his depression definitely exacerbates these traits, when i was undiagnosed and depressed i used to sleep my entire days away. I wasn't getting anything done anyway.
Not to mention not sleeping properly, so I was desperate to find moments to sleep during the day. I've slept on floors, on toilets, in an abandoned corner in uni instead of going to class. I was just *so* tired all the time I didn't want to sit in class, I wanted to sleep.
I was lucky I passed classes without studying, cause i would've never gotten through uni otherwise. I still took longer than necessary. The moment my support system (Ruggie, anyone?) graduated and left I had no one taking care of my basic needs, and I certainly didn't.
I had a dorm mate who cooked for me, made sure I had even an ounce of self-care, and also looked at my room and said "hmm, Deniz, maybe it's time to clean up a little" and then I very reluctantly admitted that it may have gotten a little out of hand.
She would just sit in my room sometimes chilling around while I cleaned cuz that was one of the few ways I cleaned at all (this is a real thing for ADHD, called body doubling. It works). Ruggie arriving at NRC and Leona suddenly performing tons better in school is no coincidence.
Coming back to RSD.. I mean I don't really have to explain it do I.. book 2, Lilia's scathing remarks, the shame of disappointing his dorm, etc. I know a lot of ppl call book 2 an 'overreaction' but like, this is genuinely what it feels like internally when RSD triggers
book 6 too, Jamil's over-protectiveness is clearly (to the audience) smth that's mostly Jamil's own habits and trauma doing. But to Leona it's a rejection/insult to his ability to take care of himself, his skill, etc. This was genuinely smth that set me off too.
"How dare you try to explain to me smth I already know, do you think I'm stupid?" "You're not like me." The unwillingness to admit that someone may be relatable in any way because making any comparison to yourself makes you vulnerable to what you haven't achieved for yourself.
"I would ace these classes too if I wasted my time and life studying as much as they did, but I actually love myself." <- guy who was jealous and did not know he was coping and didn't study cause of executive dysfunction and concentration issues.
Leona clearly knows a lot about the things he genuinely cares about, Ancient spell language, chess, magishift, so its kind of funny to see him so low effort in classes. Though honestly i know the game also says that "Leona already knows all this stuff" so.. who knows really...
Now I'm more chill but I used to legitimately go off the handle a little cuz RSD doesn't really care about whether the shit u feel is proportional to the offence it physically hurts in your chest and you just wanna burn down the world at that exact time and... IS THAT NOT LEONA...
TLDR: give Leona therapy and meds, lol.
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avocado-writing · 1 month
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Idk if you know Mortal Kombat, especially mileena (she's my favorite) but may I please get a Wolverine and/or Deadpool with a gf who has a mutation like Mileena.
She thinks she's ugly when she uses it but the boys think otherwise 🎀
(I'M LITERALLY IN HEAT EVERYTIME I THINK ABOUT THEM)
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This is (my wife) Mileena
When Wade fights with you at his side, your carnage is always prefaced with a quiet request. 
“Please don’t look.”
And, because he is fundamentally a good dude, he doesn’t.
Fuck. He really wants to, though.
The noises that you make when he turns his back to focus on a different opponent are… interesting. It sounds like a bunch of really wet celery being snapped in half to a symphony of screams. When he’s done slicing people into teeny tiny chunks he turns around and sees you standing there in a pool of blood, trying to get the stain of it off your jacket.
He’s never been so curious about something in his entire life.
You’re so lovely. Loveliest thing he’s ever met. How the fuck he managed to convince you to give him a chance he’ll never know. God, the stars, and luck must have all been on his side that day, when after you’d finished taking down a cartel he’d asked you to grab a coffee and you’d said yes. Ever since then it’s been great. He loves spending days on window-shopping dates with you, fingers intertwined as he leaves you breathless with laughter; lazing on his sofa with some stupid rom-com playing with a bucket of popcorn between you both; snuggled in his usual corner booth at his favourite pizza place playing footsie beneath the table.
Perfect. You are perfect in every way.
So if all it takes is looking away when you ask him to then it’s a pretty easy compromise.
Unfortunately what you don’t take into account is that he is an idiot.
Wade catches the sight of you in the reflection of his katana the next time you’re out on a job. He’s just liberated some dude’s head from the rest of his body and is cleaning his blade when he spots you. 
And he cannot turn away.
Your mouth is open so wide it could rival a snake’s. Rows of jagged teeth which help you dismember the man who has been caught in the vine of your tongue, struggling to get away as he screams for help. When your jaws snap shut the man is silenced. You spit out the remains of his face onto the ground beside you like discarded gum.
“Holy shit!” says Wade. You squeak when you realise he’s caught the reflection of you, covering your mouth with both hands as it returns to its normal soft, kissable line.
“Oh no!” you whisper. Wade dispatches the last guy who’s running for him with a well-aimed bullet before coming to gather you in his arms.
“Baby, hey, it’s okay!” he says quickly when it’s obvious that you’re about to cry. You look up at him with glistening eyes.
“But Wade, I look so ugly,” you manage, “I thought… if you saw… you might not want to…”
Be with me any more, are the words which hang unspoken in the air. Wade guffaws.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Babe, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen!”
Your eyebrows crease together in confusion. He wants to use his thumb to smooth it out, but instead chooses to wipe a tear off your face.
“Yeah?”
“Of course! Shit, you’ve got that fuckin’ Venom thing going on? Like Mileena from Mortal Kombat but sexier? Come on, I’d be a fool if I wasn't rocking a semi right now!”
This makes you laugh properly, from your stomach, and all your worry is forgotten.
“I shouldn’t have worried…” you sigh when you get your wits back.
“Nah, of course not. You’ll always be my boo, okay?”
You grin up at him, before an idea very clearly crosses your mind.
“Oh! That means now I can show you what my tongue can do.”
He isn’t proud of it, but that promise almost makes him cum in the suit.
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taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear
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arienic · 4 months
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hii! may i request a mys!gene x fem!short! reader? :)
of course! so sorry for the delay, i got caught up in a bit of writer's block. i feel like this is a little ooc, still trying to get him down huhu. hope you enjoy though!
"What the fuck are you doing?" Gene blurts.
You don't even look at him, still perched on the kitchen counter, prying a cupboard open. "Getting chips," you tell him. "What else?"
"I didn't mean that, I meant —" When you lean up on your knees to reach for a pack, he blanches, immediately rushing over to steady you. "Shit, doll! Why're you on the counter?"
"Getting chips," you repeat, with emphasis this time, as if to say 'are you stupid?' "I was watching a show and I got hungry, so here I am, getting chips."
"We have a ladder — we have chairs!" He pinches your thigh. "You have me!"
You swat his hand away, then drop a bag of chips onto the counter. But it seems you're not done, not yet — you continue rummaging through the cupboard. "I was lazy," is what he gets as a reply.
Gene rests a resigned hand on the back of your calf. "You're insane."
"Innovative. Able to adapt. Get it right, baby," you hum. He sighs, and you laugh at that.
The chip bags crinkle loudly as you sort through them. It's a mess of reds and blues and yellows and greens — they're all pushed to the side, stacked on top of one another, in your search. Not that Gene's complaining — in all honesty, it doesn't look all that different from when he'd stocked it up last weekend.
And then finally — finally! — you pluck another bag of chips from the pile and sit back on your calves. Gene reaches over your head to shut the cupboard.
"Thanks," you say, your back still to him, hunching over to look at the chips you picked out. 
Gene pokes your hip, hand coming up to rest on your waist. "At least look at your savior when you're thanking him, sweetheart."
You laugh, lean back onto his chest. "Savior?"
"Yes, savior."
He gives your hip a little squeeze, and you roll your eyes. Resting a hand on his shoulder for support, you twist your body around, taking up your legs from under you and adjusting 'til you're seated comfortably on the counter. 
"Better now, savior?"
"Much." His hands come up to settle on the tops of your thighs, and you let him move forward to stand between them. "Now that you're all safe and sound — don't pull that shit again, sweetheart. I know you're short" — you roll your eyes — "but you don't need to go around climbing counters for some chips."
"It's so fun, though."
"Yeah?" Gene moves in closer, and delights in the flush of your cheeks when he keeps eye contact with you as he does so. "Bet it's like climbing Mount Everest."
A smile tries to tug up your lips, but you press them in a thin little line. "Fuck you," you tell him.
"I'd be honored, doll."
"Gene!" you laugh.
"But, you know, I guess you're probably raring to go and devour these chips of yours" — he reaches around your back and picks up the packs, holding them up to your face — "as you watch some movie, so." Gene places them gingerly on your lap. "I'll leave you to it."
You shake your pretty head, get down from the counter, and with your chips tucked under your arms, you disappear into your room.
You do give him a kiss as you go, though, so he'll let it slide.
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percervall · 1 year
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you make it rain (but I make it shower)
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Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader Words: 834 Request: Lando Norris + Little Mix - Power + fluff/angst Warnings: Christian Horner, sexism
In which you've had enough
---
“They’re only here for the hot drivers,” the RedBull team principal comments as he walks behind you and Lando. The two of you are watching a group of girls exchange friendship bracelets with some of his fellow drivers, their joy audible as the girls make them remember silly moments that have become inside jokes. Something about Horner’s dismissive tone has you seeing red. You feel Lando’s hand on your shoulder, trying to hold you back from doing something stupid –like getting yourself banned from the paddock.
“No, he needs to hear it. I won’t stand for this,” you brush off your best friend, “You’re such an ass, you know?” you call out to Christian Horner. The man stops and turns around.
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, you heard me. You should be thanking these girls, they’re the reason F1 has gotten as popular as it has. There’s a reason Daniel’s merch is pulling the numbers it does, why Lando’s own merch sells better than the McLaren stuff, or why Ferrari post literal thirst traps on Instagram every race weekend, and it’s not the 40-something-year-old men with beer bellies clad head to toe in RedBull, setting off flares –illegal flares– in the grandstands. The only reason for your success is because of Max and his army of loyal fans. Every single driver in that number 2 seat has failed to live up to your standards, but then again you also don’t offer them a particularly nurturing work environment. I’m not done,” you say as you see him open his mouth to respond, “Your team has the highest driver turnover rate on the grid. It also has some of the worst transparency when it comes to diversity. I know you hate him, but you could learn a thing or two about how Toto runs Mercedes, about Lewis’ dedication to making the sport more welcoming, and also about profit margins. Their car may be shit, but they’re actually making money. They were also one of the first teams to promote F1 Academy, something your own social media team was quite late with. Gee, I wonder why that is. So please forgive me, Christian, when I say that your opinion of girls and female fans of motor sports means absolutely nothing to me. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” you finish your rant as calmly as you can with your heart hammering in your chest, and walk away from him. Behind you, you hear Horner splutter something about Lando needing to keep his friends in check. You can only imagine what Lando’s reply might be to that. The adrenaline of calling out a team principal on his behaviour is beginning to wear off and you can feel your entire body tremble. You almost jump out of your skin when someone wraps an arm around you.
“Sorry, it’s just me nena,” Carlos says as he stears you into the Ferrari garage, “Horner is on a warpath, you’ll be safe here.” Both him and Charles walk with you to Carlos’ driver room. As soon as the door closes behind you, the tears begin to fall.
“I’m fine,” you splutter at their concerned looks, “I’m- f-fine.” Carlos pulls you into a hug while Charles mumbles something about finding Lando.
“How did you find me so quickly?” you ask, face still half buried in his shirt. Carlos chuckles.
“We were right there, signing some things for fans when it all went down.” Taking a deep breath, you pull back and wipe away the tears. “Pretty sure I’m about to get my paddock access revoked,” you joke through your tears.
“They have another thing coming if the FIA decides to do so,” you hear Lando say as he walks into the room. 
“I won’t apologise,” you say adamantly, allowing your best friend to pull you into a hug.
“Good. Besides, what should you apologise for? You didn’t call him names and all of it is true,” Lando replies. 
“I didn’t even tell him that even the grid struggled to name drivers during that grill the grid video,” you mumble into his hoodie, much to the amusement of Lando.
“I don’t think the FIA would dare revoke your pass, nena,” Carlos comments from where he’s looking over Charles’ shoulder at his phone. “Looks like someone’s filmed it. The video is going viral on social media already. From what I can see all the women in the comments are backing you 100%. If they ban you, there will be a riot.” You can’t help but smile at that. Wiping your nose on the sleeve of your sweater, you straighten up and, after saying goodbyes to Carlos and Charles, you walk back out of the Ferrari garage and head towards the McLaren one. Knowing that all the girls in the paddock will have your back, fills you with warmth. Whatever shit was about to come your way, you’d face it with your head held high, back straight and your friends on the grid supporting you no matter what. 
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I'm not gonna lie, I wasn't sure where to go with this song at first until @curiousthyme allowed me to just word vomit to her to get ideas and this is the result of that. Had so much fun writing the rant (even my heart was racing by the end of it 🙈)
Please let me know what you think! Your comments, tags, and likes mean the world to me
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moonlight-prose · 8 months
Text
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✧ SECRETS HELD IN THE HEART ✧
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a/n: let's pretend that it's still october and i'm still on my shit. cause no way is it january when i'm finishing this. anyways i got stuck in the rut of 'my writing is the worst thing to grace this planet' and managed to drag my horny ass out of it. you can thank me ovulating for this. now onto angsty bradley!
day twenty-seven - strip tease | kinktober 2023
summary: "he would happily let you overtake his entire life; the part of him that longed for connection—for permanency—now called out to you. whispering a soft question against the curve of your heart. all in the hopes that you’d say yes."
word count: 3.8k (we're so back)
pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, angst, the dangers of truth or dare, alcohol consumption, strip tease, p in v sex, bradley is a boob guy, longing between two idiots, very little editing done.
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You lost the bet.
Really it wasn’t your fault that you lost. You simply had gotten distracted the second your eyes locked with his, a crooked smile spread on his lips as you sipped at your chaser. The beer in front of you now clasped tightly in your hand while you waited for the alcohol to turn you warm. The condensation turned your skin cold as he reached for your hand. You could see the way the hair on his forearm stood up slightly, a chill no doubt raking its way through his body.
The rules with him were simple. Down four shots before the person beside you and you get to be in command for the rest of the night.
You wanted to say that it was some sort of ploy to push you two together when Hangman shoved Rooster forward. Fanboy accidentally bumped into you until your waist was pressed to the edge of the bartop and you were staring down apprehensively at the clear liquid.
Tequila was your strong suit. That much you were sure of. You just hadn’t expected him to fucking cheat.
Brown eyes slid down the length of your body as he tipped his head back to down the third shot, and that was it. You were utterly distracted as a rush of warmth slipped down your spine, curling at the base until you could feel it in the tips of your fingers. You were quickly reaching for your last shot once you were snapped back into reality, only to hear him slam the small glass down beside you.
The raucous cheers of everyone around you confirmed what you already knew. That you were now staring head on at the winner of the bet—your fate now clutched tightly in his hands. While Hangman made a show of pulling Rooster’s arm up as if he’d just won a WWE championship, his eyes were fixed on you. A smile formed on his lips, and you could practically see something churning in the back of his mind.
He had plans for you.
“Better luck next time Fox!”
You grumbled under your breath, drinking your beer until you could no longer fathom the taste anymore. Meanwhile Rooster acted exactly like his name. Proudly puffing up his chest with a grin that would normally have you shambles.
You glared at him instead.
Unable to catch the sight of him being caught off guard, you maneuvered your way through the crowd and headed straight for the back booth. At least there you felt safe. There you could wait out the crowd of testosterone that nearly choked the very breath from your lungs. There Rooster would find you two beers in, humming along to the Eagles, and fully intent on complying with his every word.
Or at least that’s what he believed.
He slipped in beside you with ease, arm propped up around your shoulders, lips by your ear. “Rules are rules Fox.”
Turning slightly, you angled your face close to his—eyes focusing on the plush bottom lip he currently had trapped between his teeth. Fuck, you wanted to take it in your mouth. Taste the remnants of the tequila that still permeated his tongue. You wanted to make him breathless in the way he did to you—holding permanently onto his lungs so tight he feared he may never breathe again.
“They’re stupid rules.”
He chuckled. “No one said Hangman was smart.”
Try as you might, you couldn’t stop the smile from forming on your lips. The jab at Hangman caused the both of you to fall back into your familiar friendship. Something you held so near and dear to your heart. Rooster had always been someone you turned to when things got tough; the one person who could see right down to your soul, as if you were made of nothing but transparent glass.
“So…Rooster.” You shifted, eyes catching his in the soft light of the lamp above. “What’s your plan?”
“Who said I had a plan?”
“Don’t bullshit me.” With a soft tug on his shirt you brought his lips closer, until the warmth of his breath washed across your cheek. “I invented that game.”
He smiled—eyes alight and eager. “Do you want to go back to my place?”
“So you do have a plan.”
A small shrug of his shoulder told you enough to understand that Rooster had been thinking about this far longer than you originally thought. He wasn’t planning on a whim that this would happen eventually. He was hoping that you would lose. If only to move along this unbearable ache that neither of you—try as you might—could put a name to.
“Yes,” you said with a sly grin. “I’ll hold up my end of the deal.”
There it was again. That all too familiar flicker of want he battled with whenever you were near. The small feeling that threatened to swallow him whole if he wasn’t careful. But that was the thing…he didn’t want to be careful. He would happily let you overtake his entire life; the part of him that longed for connection—for permanency—now called out to you.
Whispering a soft question against the curve of your heart. All in the hopes that you’d say yes.
You followed him out of the bar to the boisterous calls of the team across the bar. Each of them chanted Rooster’s name as if he was some sort of hero to them. But the both of you knew that he hadn’t won your affection tonight. He simply lucked out in being the only guy on this side of Fightertown that you actually wanted.
His car sat near the door, parked at an angle that told you he simply swerved in and stopped. Even you had to admit that was unlike him. A measured man who held onto his actions with a tight leash, but he couldn’t say the same was done for his emotions. He was intense in a way that made your heart burn, your insides screaming at you to give into him.
To stop playing this game of fucking chicken.
You flipped through the radio stations as he drove, the rumble of the engine a soothing echo in the background of that irritable humming beneath your skin. As if you would vibrate right out of your skin if he looked at you one more time. All big brown eyes and pouty lips and a heart that would break you if you weren’t careful.
“Truth or dare Rooster.”
He clearly didn’t expect that to come out of your mouth. But as always, his lips curved into that smirk you longed to kiss off his face.
“Truth,” he said, shifting in his seat. You couldn’t see it, but he’d been sporting a hard on since you looked at him that way in the booth.
You snorted. “Of course.”
“D’you want me to pick dare?”
“No.” You smiled, leaning into the seat. “I just figured you would pick truth. It’s the safe answer.”
“I disagree.”
“Oh?”
He chanced a look at you and wished he hadn’t. Your legs were spread slightly, head lolling to the side with a grin on your face that taunted him to look. To see you like this—waiting for him to fuck you seven ways to Sunday. He subtly pressed his foot harder on the gas.
“Truth makes you expose a part of yourself. Dare lets you escape that.”
Without knowing Rooster had hit a piece of yourself that made you sit up a bit straighter. You wanted to push it back down. Conceal it from any prying eyes that might want to pull it closer—inspect what it was. Except he’d already latched onto it and proceeded to yank it out of you with intent.
As if to say I’m here. I’ll be here until you say otherwise.
And you couldn’t deny that it terrified you.
“Alright philosopher Bradley,” you teased in an effort to save face. He chuckled and let you move on. “Tell me a secret you’ve never told me before.”
He stiffened, fingers clutching at the wheel just a bit harder.
“Are you sure you want that?”
“Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t,” you replied, fingers picking at your denim jeans.
“Alright.” He sucked in a breath, shifting in his seat as if he was ready to jump out of the moving car. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did. That’s where Bradley and you were exactly the fucking same.
You hated talking about your emotions.
He coughed, eyes flicking back to you briefly. Thankfully it was too dark for you to see the red stain spread along his cheeks—the heat of your stare burning a hole in the side of his head.
“I—uh—I think I’m in love with you.”
For a moment you remained silent, your heart seizing in your chest and mind going a mile a minute. Words would have been good at this time. A small indication that you in fact felt the same. But he stopped your entire being with that truth—blowing a hole in your impenetrable wall, only to watch as you bled out on the awful leather of his car.
“Fox?”
You jolted, snapping to attention. “What do you mean you think?” He stuttered, mouth falling open. “Don’t you know?”
“I—”
“I know. Why don’t you?”
He had stopped the car five minutes ago in front of his small bungalow. The steady hum of the engine gave way to the awkward tension that now choked the life out of you. Bradley’s eyes locked with yours, darkening slightly at the quick rise and fall of your chest. How you kept your resistant stance even as he tried to pour his emotions out for you.
“What do you mean you know?”
And that was the thing about Bradley fucking Bradshaw. You never knew when he was going to catch you off guard.
For a moment you were in midair, floundering for words to say. But he was way ahead of you.
Popping open his door, he got out of the car and rounded to your side, opening it with a swift motion and helping you out with another. His arm looped around your waist, pulling you up the steps with him, his lips dangerously close to your neck. He didn’t need words for this part, neither of you did.
You’d been to his place before. Often for a barbecue he hosts on a weekend when everyone is back in town for a mission. But you’d never been here like this. Alone, with your heart racing, and knees weak. As he finally and firmly pressed his lips to the back of your neck, his hands gripping your hips tightly while he shut the door with his foot. 
The silence felt different here. It pressed and pressed and pressed until you could feel the desire claw at your chest, begging you to give in.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
A breath escaped you—short and shuddering. “I didn’t pick truth.”
“The fuck you didn’t,” he mumbled, his fingers gripping the back of your neck as he leaned his back against the door.
“Rooster—” His teeth sunk into your skin, pain piercing the flesh until it spread through your body.
“You know?”
Your eyes fluttered shut, fingers scrabbling to grip at any part of him you could reach. “Yes.”
“You know what?”
“Don’t make me say it.”
Except you knew he would. You knew he’d make you repeat the words until you no longer had a voice, because he was greedy. He wanted more than you could give, but devoured it all the same. If Bradley had his way, he’d have said these words three fucking years ago when you had beat him in a game of pool—eyes bright from the single beer you downed. You were sunlight in human form and he wanted to soak in your rays.
“I’m gonna,” he breathed, fingers tracing down your stomach to the belt on your waistband. “Because I love you.”
Your eyes flew open, a gasp ripping from your chest. “Bradley…”
“There she is.”
Heat spilled over from your chest, sliding down your body as if you had just ingested a warm drink. He longed to pick you open and see what was inside. To know your emotions as well as you knew his. It should have infuriated you, made you want to rip at his clothes and shut him up entirely. But the feeling from earlier rose up again, silencing your need to run away. It gave you a leg to stand on.
Turning in his hold, you pressed your lips to his, giving into the blinding ache that nearly killed you. He sagged against your body with a defeated groan, his hands pulling and tugging as if he could wrap you around him again and again. He was so far gone for you that even when you began to step back, he followed—refusing to break the kiss.
His tongue swept into your mouth, fingers digging into your ass, and it made you feel weak. Dizzy almost.
“Go sit on the couch.”
He shook his head, licking into your open mouth. “‘M busy.”
Fighting the smile was no use this time around. Tugging sharply at his hair you felt yourself clench around nothing when he moaned, his eyes rolling slightly and mouth falling open. You stored that knowledge away for later.
“Sit on the couch for me baby,” you purred.
The high that entered your brain at the sight of him shivering just from one word was unlike anything you’d ever felt. No amount of flying in dangerous jets could bring you that emotion. Because it wasn’t adrenaline. It was power.
Simply the knowledge that you could get him to do anything sent you reeling; your body now at a temperature that was surely destructive. He pulled away reluctantly, stumbling back until his ass was planted firmly on the couch cushions, legs spread wide and cock pressing against the seam of his too tight jeans.
Fuck you wanted to ruin him.
“What do you want me to do?”
His eyes widened slightly, hands pressing down into his thighs. “What…”
“You won the bet.” Stepping closer, you watched his pupils dilate as he sucked in enough air to not pass out. You leaned closer, hands pressing over his and teeth pulling at his bottom lip. “So tell me what you want.”
“Strip for me,” he blurted out without control, the stain on his cheeks turning a few shades darker. A blooming crimson.
You grinned, nudging your nose with his. “As you wish.”
The old nearly broken record player sat on a weathered table in the corner of his room. Records stacked haphazardly beside it and you considered going through each one. If not to find the perfect song, then to sneak a peek into what type of man he was, but he was sitting impatiently on the couch as you flipped a record onto the turntable. The needle fell with the smooth ease of being used over and over again, scratching slightly until the echo of a sensual modern song began.
“I pegged you for an oldies only kind of guy,” you smirked over your shoulder, catching sight of his body twitching.
He blew out a breath. “Not always.”
“Hm.” You turned, fingers toying with the hem of the tight top Phoenix bought you a week ago. She claimed it was for going out purposes. You knew she meant Rooster. “Good to know.”
He expected you to strip quickly and fall into his lap. Which proved why he was surprised to see you pad over to him slowly. Hips swaying in time with the song, hands sliding along your body as if you wanted it to be him touching you instead. Oh how he wanted to fucking touch you. Bradley felt his mouth dry when you pulled at the buckle of your belt, undoing the button and zipper—only to leave it that way.
“Baby,” he panted, anxiously shifting on the couch, his heart pounding so hard in his chest he swore you could hear it.
“Yes?”
“You don’t have to…” He felt his mouth fall open as your shirt slid up your torso, sliding off entirely and leaving you in a lacy very see-through bra. “Oh fuck.”
“Thought you said you wanted me to strip?”
“I do. Fuck I do.” He was going to die. You were going to kill him. And you hadn’t even touched him yet.
You turned, arms raising as you lowered yourself into his lap, biting back a giggle when he audibly groaned. He sounded like you punched him right in the chest, shoving the sound out and forcing it to echo in the room. Bradley’s hands grasped at your sides, marveling at how soft you were, but your hips shifting to sway with the song did him in.
“You’re supposed to only watch,” you teased, eyes falling shut at his warm touch.
“Forget stripping.” He helped your hips move, eyes stuck on the peek of the lacy underwear you wore peeking from the opening of your pants. “I’ll have you like this.”
“But the bet—”
“Fuck the bet.”
He cupped your chin in his hand, lips sliding messy and wet along yours with a desperation you’d never felt before from anyone. If you didn’t know better, you would think he was trying to imprint himself in your tastebuds. Stain you with his flavor until you would be unable to forget him. It sunk into your chest, crawling through your veins, and for a moment you felt yourself forget what you were doing.
Pulling away with a gasp, he reached for your jeans, pulling them down to bare your ass to him. He moaned raggedly, forehead falling to your shoulder at the sight.
“Fuck. You’re perfect everywhere,” he breathed, tugging your underwear to the side, catching how it clung to the slick that practically poured out of you.
You sighed all sweet and soft and Bradley felt his cock jolt in his jeans. He wasn’t going to last more than ten minutes. He’d be fucking lucky to get inside you first. But with the way you squirmed under his touch, you seemed to be right there with him. He matched your breath with one of his own before he undid his pants, pulling himself out swiftly with very little touching.
Anything more and he’d lose it.
“Can I…” Nerves jumped under his chest, making him rethink everything for a brief moment. A horrible habit he had even up in the air.
“Bradley.”
His eyes snapped to yours. “Yeah?”
“If you don’t fuck me I’m leaving,” you whispered.
It was meant to be a joke to jolt him out of his stupor. You knew that you couldn’t leave even if you tried. You were stuck to him—a part of him.
But your words seemed to spur him on. He lined himself up with shaky hands, his breaths coming in just the same, and with a small push he began to sink into you. Bradley had his fair share of sex in his life. It was an act of relief half of the time. But this? He wasn’t prepared for the sheer amount of bliss that would slam into him, a choked grunt tearing from his throat.
“Fuck, fuck—” He clamped an arm around your waist to keep you still. “I’m not gonna—fucking god.”
You felt the breath punch from your lungs, a shaky breath escaping you as he finally pushed the final inch into you, stilling completely at the feeling. Full. That’s what you had been missing when you did this. The fullness that left you gasping for air, the emotions that spilled over like blood from a wound.
You needed him to move, but knew he was trying to keep himself on a tight leash. His stability and sense went out the window the second you looked at him. It deteriorated on the way here, and finally…he could see the final fragments begin to fade. Turn to ash right before his eyes as burning paper would. Was he on fire? He felt like he was.
“Baby,” you whined, the pitch so high and perfect he could feel his heart swell in his chest.
He loved you.
He loved you.
Fuck…he loved you.
But he wasn’t going to last. He determined that he’d make it up to you on the first thrust; that he’d spend all night between your plush thighs making you scream his name. Because he was four thrusts in and his balls were already drawing up.
If only he focused long enough to see how your mouth hung open in a silent moan. Your fingernails dug into his arm, drawing blood to the surface, and you’d apologize later. You’d kiss it better once this was all over, because your body was pulling taut above his. He shoved into you with a stunted grind of his hips, nudging against bliss—drawing you even higher. You severely underestimated how on the edge you were.
“‘M sorry,” he mumbled. “I’ll—fuck—I’ll make you come sweetheart. ‘M gonna make you come.”
His hand pushed beneath your pants that weren’t even off entirely, fingers sliding through your slick until the rough pads nudged roughly against your clit. You arched into the touch and cried out raggedly, electricity shooting down your spine.
“Not gonna last.” He bit into your shoulder with a groan, his hips slamming up into you one last time as he fell to pieces. Only for you to follow immediately. His name was a breathless shout on your lips; a sound he wanted burned into his mind.
You didn’t understand the babble of words that spilled out as you came down, your body wracked with jolts of pleasure. And his hands became a warm soothing balm along your skin. Something to bring you back to yourself. Even if it did take a moment.
“I love you.” He grinded into you slowly, sluggishly. Without a care in the world other than those words. “I do, I love you.”
He wished you could see the smile on his face, but something told him you knew it was there. His hands cupped your breasts, thumbs running along your clothed nipple. Simply to watch you shudder. To see your body melt into his touch again. If he wasn’t addicted before. He was now.
“I know,” he said.
You scoffed, a flare of what you knew was adoration but faked as irritation crawled up your chest. “Shut up.”
Nudging his chest with your elbow, you felt his body shake as he laughed. Heat blooming beneath the skin of your cheeks. He could be the worst person alive. But you couldn’t deny what you already knew. What you’d known for a long time.
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Been a hot minute, my friends, and I'm sorry for that.
This is something that has been sitting in my drafts for a bit and with how long it's been taking me to get other work out, I figured why not even if I'm not fully pleased with it.
I hope you enjoy regardless 💛
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Pairing: Yandere!Chrollo x Reader
SFW
Word Count: 910
Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapping, Forced relationship, Murder (mentioned)
Please be nice, I don't write for this man often
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“May I ask you something?”
It was a simple question, but one you regretted the moment it left your lips because of how it silenced the room.
Gone was the soft scratching of pen against paper as Chrollo looked toward your seated position, his expression thankfully that of neutrality mixed with a hint of slight intrigue.
You swallowed and looked down at your lap. Better than annoyance, you supposed.
“I just… I can’t stop thinking about it, and I have to ask...” Your fingers picked at the frayed ends of the couch while your graze returned to his. “Why me?”
He arched a brow, amusement creeping into his eyes. “Why you?”
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
“Yes.” You replied with a little more conviction in your own tone this time. “Surely keeping one person alive when the rest were doomed to die is more trouble than it’s worth.”
“Are you saying that you would’ve preferred to have shared the same fate as the rest of your fellow party go-ers?”
Your cringe followed by a beat of silence was more than enough of an answer, but you felt obligated to continue since you were the one who started this conversation in the first place.
“...No.” Your teeth found your bottom lip while you tried to gather your thoughts in a way you hoped would make sense, all while pushing the memory of the fundraiser-turned-bloodbath out of your mind. “I’m saying I don’t understand.”
Chrollo leaned back in his own seat, still looking directly at you. “You’re here to keep the police from doing anything foolish.”
“I know that!” The frustration in your chest made itself known. “But you could have taken anybody. One of the sponsors of the damn thing, or even some other random woman, yet you kept me alive. I want to know your reasoning for it.”
He didn’t seem upset by your outburst, if anything it just served to increase his growing interest in the conversation.
Likely because these were the most words you had ever spoken to him at a given time.
Bastard.
“I liked you.”
Such a simple answer, and one you did not expect from someone who typically played their cards so close to the chest. It threw you off whatever balance you mentally had, and you recovered with a scoff.
“You liked me?”
“Yes.”
A twitch went through your eye when he didn’t expand on that - the sound of pen on paper filling up the room once more. You refused to let the conversation die there.
“I don’t believe you.”
That was a lie, but one you were willing to risk if it meant bringing the topic back to life, and boy did it work.
Not only did he stop writing, he set the pen down on the desk in front of him and turned his whole body to face you. “Oh?”
Shit.
“I mean, I don’t know how you could decide using something like that in a situation that was such a spur of the moment.”
“What makes you think any of what I do is ‘spur of the moment’?”
That made you pause. He had a point there. In the short time that you knew him, he had proved himself to be anything but impulsive…
Your temples throbbed with a quickly encroaching headache.
“If it wasn’t, then what? Your choice was made before the bloodshed started?”
The words were spoken sarcastically, but you had no idea just how right you were until you saw his expression change from amused neutrality to one of…
Come to think of it, you had no idea what to call the look on his face. Admiration came closest to mind, but that didn’t feel right.
“You catch on fast, well done.”
You made a face, not a fan of the condescending tone. “So, what? If I’m not sacrificed to the cops in a hail of bullets, you’re going to keep me as some kind of pet?”
Amusement crept back onto his face. “Is that what you think?”
“If it is, I hope you know I’ll fight that with every fiber in my being.”
He hummed lowly, your promise of violence completely brushed to the side. “As intriguing as the notion is, I have no intention of doing such a thing to you.”
“Then what do you intend to do?”
A small smile appeared on his face, but he didn’t answer, allowing you a moment to draw your own conclusions.
When you did, you frowned.
“Not a chance.”
“Why?”
You gave him an indignant look. “You can’t seriously expect me to willingly be with you after everything that has happened.”
“I don’t, hence your current circumstances.”
Silence filled the air again after that. A nice reminder that whatever outcome you could’ve hoped for during this exchange, you were doomed to lose regardless.
All you could do was shake your head in malcontent and pick at the frayed ends of the couch again, unable to come up with anything further to say.
More amusement flickered across his face. “You do not wish to be my pet, nor to be my lover.” He sat back ever so slightly in his chair. “Tell me then, what do you wish to be?”
“Free.” You replied without a sliver of hesitation, locking eyes again with him once more. “But we both know that will never happen, will it?”
Chrollo threatened to genuinely smile at your answer and he shook his head once.
“No. It won’t.”
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© absolute-flaming-trash 2023. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.  
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alexfromjersey · 1 year
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𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼 & 𝓐𝓻𝓰𝓾𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼
jenna ortega x g!poc
summary: two months go by after the premiere of Scream 6. after not speaking for a month, Jenna finds you and has some intense news to share.
warnings: mature language, angst, fluff, mentions abortion
a/n: I'M NOT SCARED OF LIONS, AND TIGERS, AND BEARS...oh and I totally forgot that the Met was May 1 sooooo pretend it was a little bit later in the month. 3.7k words
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Series Masterlist
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MAY 2023
Life has certainly skyrocketed for you after you released your vlog of the Scream 6 red carpet premiere. Everyone loved the funny moments between you and Davis and the cast appearances. The fans also noticed the interaction between you and Jenna, which blew up. You gained a lot more followers, going from 16.6k to almost 50k in a couple of weeks.
It was a tad bit overwhelming, having more eyes on you but it’s what you signed up for. You just had to adjust. 
“Chat, I got word that my special package is coming soon for the stream. I’m mad excited to show y’all this shit” You beamed. 
You sat back in your gaming chair wearing black basketball shorts and a black tank top. You had your reading glasses on because you were blind as fuck. You just finished playing the new season of Call of Duty and now you were talking to your chat for the last hour of your stream. 
Lately, you’ve noticed that you've lost focus a little bit. Ever since that night with Jenna, it replayed on your mind over and over again. The way her lips felt against yours, the sounds she let out when you pleasured her, and her beautiful body. 
You hate to admit it but you were starting to feel the actress. You’ve had your fair share of women, some that were relationships and some that were just for fun. But you never felt this way about a girl before and it kinda scared you. 
“When are you releasing new music? Whenever I can find studio time. On some real shit chat, I’ve been writing a lot more lately and I really wanna hit up the studio so anyone that can squeeze me in, DM me please” You spoke to chat. 
It didn’t help that Jenna stopped contacting you after a month and some change. You haven’t gotten any DMs, texts, or FaceTime calls in weeks. At first, you figured she was busy doing her job and she didn’t have any time to talk. A quick little text would be enough though.
But you had to remember that y’all are not together. No use of crying over spilled milk. Davis was upset when you told him.
You stupid motherfucker - again his exact words.
“I haven’t looked at my Reddit in a minute, let’s see what’s happening there,” You said and clicked to Reddit.
The first thing that popped up was a picture of you and Jenna at the restaurant. The caption said, “not Jah tryna rizz up MY WIFE!?!?”
You continued to scroll through the Reddit seeing nothing but edits of you at the premiere. There were some edits and pictures of you and Jenna with outrageous captions which made you laugh. You continued scrolling through and interacting with chat for the last fifteen minutes before getting off for the night.
Now you are bored and hungry. You threw on your slides and grabbed your accessories before leaving the apartment. You were craving a baconeggandcheese on an everything bagel from the bodega around the corner. 
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( your outfit ^ )
You got to the bodega and ordered your sandwich, grabbed a soda, and some snacks for the rest of the night. About five minutes later, your sandwich was done. You bid goodbye to everyone in the store including the cat at the register before heading back towards your apartment. However, the loud sound of a horn can be heard throughout the night air. You ignored it, thinking it was not for you, and kept walking. But the horn sounded again and a heavy-tinted black SUV pulled up next to you. You were on guard now, you thought you were about to either get got or robbed. You freed your left hand just in case, you had to pull out the tool. But then the back passenger side window rolled down and a familiar face was seen.
“Yo Hollywood, word to you was about to get got. Why you roll up on me like that?” You questioned as you relaxed seeing her face. 
“We beeped the horn twice to get your attention” Jenna replied. 
“This is New York, car horns are heard every second and can mean various things. We beep and shout out the window here” You joked.
A small smile appeared on her face for a second before she turned to someone in the vehicle with her. 
“I need to talk to you…it’s important” She mumbled loud enough for me to hear. 
“Nah I ain’t getting in shit. You ghost me for a month and then roll up on me like this. How did you find me anyway?” You questioned. 
“Davis…I called him. It took a while for him to tell me where you lived but after I expressed how important it was, he gave it to me. Look, I know we haven’t spoken in a month and there’s a reason for that. If you would just get in the car, I will explain everything” Jenna answered. 
You sighed, contemplating getting in the vehicle or not. But after a small inner battle, you walked to the back driver's side and got in the SUV. Inside the vehicle was the driver, an older woman in the passenger seat, Jenna, and a boy who looked around your age. You were highly confused about what was happening.
“Where are we going?” You asked anyone.
“Somewhere we can talk privately” Jenna answered when no one did. 
You hummed in response, you looked down at her and took in her appearance. She was dressed in Adidas pants and an oversized sweater. She had shades covering her eyes which you found odd since it was nighttime. She kept picking at the sleeves of her shirt and bouncing her leg nervously. 
A clear throat made you look away from Jenna to the unknown boy next to her. He was glaring at you and clenching and unclenching his fist. You raised an eyebrow at him before you snorted. Jenna turned to you at the sound but you didn’t spare her another glance. 
You took out your sandwich and began chowing down on it. It was getting cold and you didn’t know how long this talk was gonna take.
Shortly, you all arrived at a building, it looked like an office building. You finish your meal and throw away your trash before following everyone inside the building. You all walk to the back of a conference room. 
“Okay, so what’s this all about? Cause homeboy over there look like he wanna pop off” You said and pointed to the boy sitting next to Jenna. 
“Jahaziel, I’m Nancy, Jenna’s manager and that gentleman next to her is her friend Hudson Maverick. It’s to our newfound knowledge that, you and Ms. Ortega slept together two months ago right?” Nancy inquired.
“I don’t really put my business out on who I sleep and don’t sleep with, with strangers.” You gave a fake smile to the older woman. 
Nancy sighed and ran her hand through her hair, “Jahaziel I’m -.”
“For godsakes Nancy will you just spit it out already to this girl” Hudson interjected. 
“I don’t know how to come out with something like this Hudson. I told you Jenna should be the one talking” Nancy sighed frustrated. 
You looked back and forth between the two with agitated eyes. They were wasting your time. 
“Listen, if this is about you worrying about running around tell people that we slept together, I’m not that kind of person. I don’t go around telling people who I stick my dick in no matter if they famous or not. So if this is what everything is about, you could have just emailed me” You said and went to leave the room but a soft voice stopped you.
“I’m pregnant”
You stopped in your tracks, Hudson and Nancy quieted down. It was so silent in the conference that you can hear a pin drop in the next room. You turned around to face Jenna who stood up from the table and pulled off her sunglasses. Her eyes were red and puffy like she’s been crying for days and hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep. 
“What?” You whispered.
“Can I talk to her alone please?” Jenna asked quietly. 
Nancy and Hudson looked at each other for a second before nodding. The two got up and left the room, leaving only you and Jenna. 
Jenna stepped towards you, "I'm pregnant. I found out a few days ago when my period didn’t come on. It didn’t come on last month either but I thought it was due to the stress I was under cause it’s happened before. I haven't slept or eaten properly. All I've been doing is crying and crying, wondering how I'm going to tell you. Then I got the courage to finally tell you but then Hudson found the pregnancy test and they started bombarding me with questions."
You felt your heart pick up pace and your palms started to get sweaty. You felt like the oxygen in your body was leaving, you couldn’t breathe. You stumbled into a seat and that’s when Jenna noticed your state. 
“Hey Jahaziel, look at me, breathe okay,” Jenna said and kneeled in front of you. She placed her warm hands on your cheeks and forced you to look at her but you were too busy freaking out.
“I’m a fucking dumb ass bitch, I fucking got a big ass actress pregnant. An actress I barely even know. Do you understand how fucking insane this whole thing is? I just started this YouTube shit, I still live in an overpriced shitty-ass rat-infested apartment complex in a neighborhood where I don’t know if once I step outside I’ll get shot or not. How the fuck you not freaked out right now” You ranted.
“You don’t think I’m losing my mind? Ever since I found out, I have a fucking panic attack every time I wake up. I’m twenty years old, I just booked several movies. I don’t have any time to have a child.” Jenna exclaimed.
“Well, it seems like you getting an abortion is the only option then” You argued. 
“Don’t make that decision for me” Jenna boomed. 
“What the fuck! You just fucking said that you won’t have any time to have a child. What the fuck you gonna do Jenna? Are you gonna fucking wish the baby out of you and everything will fall into place in an instant? You fucking Harry Houdini now?” You yelled, your Bronx accent getting heavy as you shouted. 
“Oh you are just fucking hilarious, huh, your a fucking comedian” Jenna growled.
“You not saying what you want to do! You say you don’t have time for a child then when I say abortion is the only option, you fucking lash out at me.” You roared. 
“Because I don’t want to get an abortion, I want to keep the baby!” Jenna belted. You looked at her face properly now and saw tears were now falling freely down her face. You closed your eyes and take a deep breath in, holding it for ten seconds, before releasing it. You repeated this process a couple of times before you felt yourself calm down. It was a technique the Marines taught you while you were in service, it came in handy most times. 
“I’ve always wanted to be a mom. Being a mom was something I knew I wanted to experience. Having a little mini-me running around with my and my partner’s personality. The experience came a lot earlier than I expected and not the ideal way but I have the chance and I’m not passing it despite what I said because I’ll figure it out. I always figure it out” Jenna confessed. 
She then pulled out a folded Manila envelope and slid it toward you. 
“So if you don’t want anything to do with me and the baby, you can sign your rights away. Nancy’s number is on that business card and she’ll come pick up the papers in the morning” Jenna continued. 
She then got up and walked out of the room.
“Jenna” You called out but she was long gone out of the room with her people following her. 
You sighed and rubbed your hands down your face, extremely stressed out. 
Honestly, you didn’t know what you wanted to do. You never thought about being a parent, especially after the way your father up and left you, your Mom, and your older brother years ago. You never gave parenthood a thought. You needed a second opinion and a blunt.
🤰🏻🩵
It was now 2 in the morning, you sat on your fire escape looking down at the streets with the papers in your hand. You just finished your second blunt of the night to help with the racing thoughts but it only increased it. You kept staring at the signature on the paper, wanting to write your name but not wanting to also. 
“You stress anymore, you gon’ pop a blood vessel” Davis said as he stepped out onto your fire escape. 
Once you found a way back home, you immediately called Davis and told him everything that happened. He told you as soon as he finished with his project, he was rushing over. 
“I feel like I’m about to have an aneurysm,” You said. 
“I would be too if I was in your position. This shit is a mess” Davis stated and took the papers from your clenched hand. He looked over it and exhaled deeply. “So you sign this and all your rights are taken away. No seeing the baby. Nothing?”
“Nothing. I won’t have a say in anything, can’t see them. I’ll literally just be the sperm donor” You said. 
“Is that what you really want? To be known as the sperm donor. You realize that she’s a mega actress and once the news gets out, it ain’t gon’ be long til people figure who the other parent is” Davis stated. 
“I don’t know what I fucking want. A part of me is ecstatic that I have a child on the way.” You exclaimed. 
“What about the other part?” Davis questioned.
You sat in the chair with cloudy eyes. Once Davis got a look at your expression, he immediately realized what this was all about. 
“Your father. You don’t want to end up like him” Davis nodded. 
“It’s been six years and that motherfucker still finds a way to haunt me. It’s pathetic” You scoffed. 
“No, it's human. Jah, he is your father-”
“Was. That bitch ass motherfucker ain’t shit to me now” You seethed. 
Davis sighed, “Either way, who said you was gonna end up like him. You plan on signing those papers and ditching your child? That ain’t you.”
You looked down at your hands, finding them more interesting. 
“Look, all those feelings you feeling right now…is that how you want your child to feel about you when they grow up. That you ain’t nothing but a bitch ass motherfucker?” Davis questioned. 
You took in your best friend’s words. “Look I know this whole situation is unconventional but you have to own up to it. You and I both know for a fact that you don’t want to sign these papers. You want to be in your child’s life. So stop being a fucking idiot, rip up those papers, and apologize to Jenna.”
Suddenly, the alarm on Davis’ phone starts to blare. You checked the time and saw that it was almost 3 o’clock now. 
“I have to get some rest for tomorrow. But on some real shit Jah, really think about what you want” Davis added before disappearing inside your apartment. 
Once again, you were left alone on the fire escape with nothing but your thoughts and the occasional crackhead shouts. You looked down at the papers again before shoving them back into the envelope and heading inside for the night.
🤰🏻🩵
The next morning, you were up and ready. You only got like an hour of sleep but that hour of sleep gave you a mindset. You texted the number on the business card and finesse your way to getting information about where Jenna was going to be today. She had a fitting for her Met Gala dress at the moment at a studio Downtown, so that’s where you were. You parked your car and paid the meter before heading inside the studio where she would be.
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(your outfit for today ^ )
You texted the number that you were downstairs with the papers. After waiting for about ten minutes, you expected to see Nancy but Hudson came downstairs. 
“Jahazel or whatever you name is…” Hudson greeted with no emotion. He held his hand out, waiting for the papers but you never put them in his hands.
“Firstly it’s Jahaziel and secondly, I know I’m probably the last person she wants to see right now and I don’t want to mess up anything she’s doing right now. But can I talk to her please?” You pleaded.
“Absolutely not. Not after what you said to her yesterday, I’m not letting a hoodlum like you step near her again. You ruined enough for her already” Hudson hissed. 
“Who you calling a hoodlum skinny Fred Jones” You questioned offended. Hudson attempted to grab the papers from your hand but you moved them away. The move made his whole face start to turn red from anger. 
“Give me the papers before I call the cops on you” Hudson threatened.
“Call the fucking cops pussy” You snapped and stepped towards him. Before either of you can lay a hand on one another, a brolic man stepped in between y’all. You recognized that it was Big L and he was pulling you away from Hudson while another security guard stood next to him.
“I need you to calm down” Big L’s rough voice ordered. 
“Alright, alright I’m calm” You grumbled and pulled your arm from him.
“Listen, meet in the back alley in ten minutes” Big L instructed in a tone that only you and him can hear.
“Big L…my man you attractive and all but I don’t swing that way” You joked.
Big L rolled his eyes, “I’ll take you to see Jenna.”
“Oh, that makes more sense. I thought you were about to suggest something to me” You lightly chuckled. 
Big L just looked at you with a neutral expression before walking away toward Hudson.
“Damn not even a little giggle?” You pouted as you left the building. 
You waited in your car for ten minutes before going into the back alley like Big L said. He was waiting for you at the door and motioned for you to speed up. He then took you through various rooms and floors. By the 10th floor, your legs were jelly.
“Aye yo, Black Panther why didn’t we take the elevators? I’m not that fit like you. I’m skinny fit I was born with abs I didn’t work for these like you did” You complained out of breath.
“Because Hudson told every guard in the building to have you arrested for trespassing if they spot you” Big L answered.
“Is it really that serious though, you would think I be fucking aggressively stalking Jenna” You huffed and walked up another flight of stairs.
“Hudson has always been overprotective of Jenna, ever since he started working for her last year” Big L commented.
“Overprotective? For what reason?” You asked.
“Don’t know. I don’t get paid to ask unnecessary questions” Big L replied. 
You hummed in response and walked up another two flights of stairs before Big L opened the door to the 13th floor. Big L checked to make sure no guard was in the vicinity before he motioned you to follow him. You felt like you were on a James Bond stealth mission, it was exciting. He took you to the last door on the floor before knocking. 
“Ms. Ortega, Nancy will like to come in” Big L said.
“Okay, send her in” Jenna spoke after a moment. 
That was your queue to enter the room. You closed the door behind me and took in that you were in an open floor room with racks of clothes against the windows. It smelt expensive as fuck in the room.
“What are you doing here?” Jenna’s voice brought you back to reality. She was standing in front of you with a familiar flannel on. It was buttoned to cover her chest area but unbuttoned around her stomach area. Through a tiny gap, you can see her belly protruding a little.
“I…uh wanted to talk to you” You spoke. 
Jenna scoffed, “I think you spoke enough last night.” She walked away from you and into a different room.
“Wait, look I apologize for the way I reacted last night. It’s sincere too cause people from New York don’t apologize” You stated. 
“If you came here to be a comedian, you can go Jahaziel” Jenna grumbled. 
You sighed, you have to be serious. You can see that she’s stressed and not in the mood for jokes so you had to be serious. You walked up behind her and grabbed her shoulders. At first, she shrugged you off but you placed your hands there again and more firm. You turned her around to face you.
“Real shit, I’m sorry Jenna. For everything last night, you didn’t deserve me talking to you like that. Truth be told, I was mad scared when you told me that you are pregnant. My father up and left my family when I was 15 and it left some deep wounds in me. When I was younger I aspired to grow up, get married, have a family, and have a love like my Ma and Father did but then he left without saying a word and it tainted that aspiration. I got scared because I didn’t want to be like him” You explained to the shorter girl. 
“You could have told me that. I would've understood completely” Jenna mumbled.
“I know and I should’ve but I’m not really good at explaining my feelings.” You responded. 
Jenna glanced at the envelope in your hand, “I’m guessing you made your decision.”
“Yeah, I did” You replied and ripped the envelope in half. Jenna gave you a surprised look. “Look, me and you made this baby together even though we ain’t in a relationship…yet. I don’t want to be like my father. I also don’t want you to do this by yourself. Our baby, our responsibility. I’m with you to the end Hollywood” You smiled and stuck your hand out.
She looked down and chuckled before shaking your hand. The two of you looked into each other’s eyes and never stopped. The room felt hotter and your hand was still holding hers. Suddenly, Jenna took your hand and placed it on her small belly. 
“Til the end NYC” Jenna smiled.
taglist: @grandpatrolnut @raven-ss @fanboy7794 @morganismspam23
450 notes · View notes
mysticficti0n · 1 year
Note
Hi B can you do something about if the TH boys were to walk-in while she was showering?? I feel it would be really funny
thank you ♥︎
BAHAHAHAHAHAH OMG YESSS
∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞  ∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞ 
Shower intrusion
warnings- swearing and thats about it
words- 990
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Tom
Tom was sat round in the living room watching some stupid film on tv until the idea of going for a nice relaxing shower came to his mind, he knew Y/n was up stairs, he could hear her fucking music rattling off the walls so its perfect timing to go in and clean off whatever was on him from the day. He climbed up the stairs and saw his roommates door wide open with the speaker on 100 volume, he shook his head as he grabbed a towel from his dresser and walked to go to the bathroom, his hand twisted the door knob and he walked in and hot steamy air hit his face "TOM GET OUT!" a high pitched yell echoed on the tiled walls "FUCKING HELL Y/N!" he shouted back standing stunned as Y/n reached for the shower curtain to wrap around her body "well don't just fucking stare!" the girl growled seeing Tom's eyes widen with realisation to what he'd done- we all know where his little eyes drifted... "shit I'm sorry I thought you were in your room!" he argued looking to the ceiling trying to not think of her naked in front of him "I'll go now erm... enjoy?" Tom had never moved quicker in his life to leave the bathroom. Why was he such an idiot? Tom found himself sat back down on the sofa flicking through channels before a wet-haired Y/n came and stood before him- fully dressed in her Pj's may I add- he gave her a shy smile as she crossed her arms staring down at the slouched position he was in "bathrooms free now perv"
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Bill
"I need to go take this bloody make-up off!" Bill groaned wiping his black eyes and seeing a huge dark smudge draw itself along his hand "ugh!" leaving the group down stairs he went to his room searching for the make-up wipes "come on where are they?" he pulled open every draw he owned swiping his hands over every surface he could reach but nothing Then he thought to check Y/n's room, she always had wipes stocked somewhere, he knocked the door and had no response, Bill opened the door slightly and saw a darkness filled room but a light shone from her bathroom, with a happy sigh he trudged in walking straight to the bathroom not noticing the sound of the taps being twisted off "Y/n I need some- OH FUCK I'M SORRY!" right in front of his eyes was a unsuspecting Y/n hurriedly wrapping her towel around her "why didn't you say something when you were walking in!" she laughed seeing the singer cover his eyes and spin back round "fucking idiot, you can turn around now" slowly Bill turned back to the girl seeing her fully covered with a clip holding her hair back "erm.. I need make-up wipes if you have any" his voice was quieter than before making Y/n chuckle and point to next to her sink "thanks and sorry... I don't know why I didn't thing you'd be in the shower" the boy quickly grabbed the wipes and ran back down stairs to fill in his bandmates about his encounter before wiping off his make-up
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Georg
Georg was sweating like shit on a hot day after being outside helping set up the barbecue with Tom who couldn't seem to understand how to screw legs onto the main barbecue drum which oddly enough ended with a shoe mark stamped into it, with heavy steps he came up the stairs taking his shirt off and already unbuckling his belt his free hand pushing the bathroom door open as soon as the smell of vanilla and lavender filled his nose he regretted everything he did "shit sorry sorry!" he chanted walking back out closing his eyes making him close to smacking his head off the door "Jesus Georg you gave me a heart attack!" the girl called with a laugh, while the bassist stood with a thought fighting his way to the front of his mind, he opened the door slightly again and the scent of his shampoo washed over him "are you using my fucking almond shampoo?!" he yelled getting a suspicious 'no' from the girl "fucking hell Y/n out of everyone in this bloody house I didn't think you'd be nicking my shampoo! I wondered why it ran out so fast!" "look it makes your hair so shiny and smooth I was getting jealous!" Georg couldn't stop a laugh from leaving his lips "I'll buy you your own next time but don't use any more!" he warned walking to his own room to write a reminder 'get the shampoo stealer her own shampoo'
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Gustav
"god my shoulders hurt so bad" the drummer grumbled rubbing the sore spot on his right side "ah- I need a shower, hot water helps" he spoke to the group sat with him as he turned to leave the room he thought he remembered Y/n saying she was going for a shower but surely she'd be out now? He made his way to the bathroom and pushed the door open and herd the small voice of Y/n singing a tune then "GUSTAV LEAVE!" the boy was brought back as he attempted to run out the room but it turned out to be more of a stumble as he smacked into the wall outside "SORRY Y/N!" he yelled slamming the door shut while slapping himself in the face trying to forget the image on Y/n with suds falling down her body, how long was he looking? "why does nobody in this goddamn house knock doors before they enter?" the girl shouted with a grunt making him laugh and her angriness, he'd make it up to her- maybe buying a door lock? "Gustav I know you're still outside" he snickered walking back down stairs with a red tint across his face "oopsie" he giggled
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 10 months
Text
The Princess & The Playboy (Part 6)
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Summary: Sam and Max's plan to get their siblings invited to a party may have worked but Sebastian Monroe is a dangerous man and they may have just put not only their lives but their families at risk too...
Masterlist
Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader
Word Count: 5,400ish
Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping
A/N: Uh oh...
_________
Two Weeks Later
Reader POV
“Damn,” said Dean, shaking out his arm after you’d tossed him a football in the backyard. “I’m going to need your arm workout and no, I am not joking.”
“Oh my god, did I tell you the dance choreographer wanted me to learn to do a handstand so I could sing, upside down? I shut that shit down so fast,” you said, Dean gently tossing the ball back to you. 
“I’m sure you could do it. But I don’t blame you for not wanting to,” he said, catching the ball one handed. “Do you get a lot of say in that stuff? Dance moves?”
“That would require me to be able to dance,” you laughed, clasping both arms around the ball when he threw it back.
“She’s right. God awful dancer when it’s not choreographed. Miracle she can fake it as well as she does,” said Eric from the patio table, glancing up from his phone. “It’s four by the way.”
“Ugh. Why’d we say yes to this stupid party?” you asked. Dean shrugged.
“This guy donates a bunch of money to the Wolves charity every year. Plus Emma said it’s not a bad idea to go to a charity event together. Apparently it helps the public not think of me as such a scoundrel.” You tossed him the ball one last time, clasping your hands behind your back.
“I mean you are the big bad playboy corrupting the virtue of the sweet princess of pop,” you said, batting your eyes, twirling your hips. You grinned when he frowned, his eyes like a predator sizing up his prey. “I think the media is right about you. Such a bad influence.”
“Oh keep it up, princess, and I’ll tell them you ain’t innocent in the slightest.”
“Someone put me out of my misery,” groaned Eric, rising to his feet. “I’m getting dressed and going over protocols with the team. We’ll head out at seven.”
“Ain’t it kind of early to get ready?” asked Dean as you tossed him the ball one last time. Eric only laughed and headed inside, Dean cocking his head at you. “I know girls take a long time to get ready but three hours?”
“Shower. Shave. Makeup. Hair. Plus I told Sloane I’d help do her hair and pick out a dress,” you said, Dean humming. “I’m sure there’s a college game on you could watch for awhile.”
“I got some game film I can review,” he said, a heavy sigh in his shoulders. You wrapped your arms around him, Dean ditching the ball to return it. “It just never ends.”
“You love football, though,” you said, Dean nodding. 
“I do. But every year it’s getting to be more and more. I know you understand the pressure of it all. I just…I’m tired. I want to have more of a life outside my job,” he said, sliding his hands down your arms, taking your hands in his. “Does that make sense?”
“Yeah,” you said softly, Dean sharing the same sad smile you wore. “Me, I can have less tour dates and not put out an album every single year. I can make more wiggle room for myself. But I know you can’t. And sometimes I worry when I watch you play, pushing your body so hard.”
“I’m incredibly lucky I’m the least sacked QB in the league. I’ve had only one surgery and that was cause I broke my toe like an idiot on a coffee table. I don’t want to be like these guys that stay in too long and wind up with so much pain at forty. Or worse.” 
“I guess the thing to ask yourself is, do you want to keep going? Or could you walk away and be satisfied?” you asked. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes. 
“All I know is I used to put my head down, bury myself in the game. All I looked forward to was getting to the season, the start of a game, feeling that rush. This year…I’m looking forward to being done with work and games way too much. It’s like I’d rather be somewhere else…with someone else,” he murmured.
You nodded, squeezing his hands. “Nothing to decide today.”
“I know. Go get ready. I can occupy myself for a few hours.”
“Damn,” you said when it was nearly seven. Sloane looked down at herself alarmed, glancing back worried. “Sloane, you’re fucking hot.”
“I’m forty two,” she scoffed, smoothing out the floor length gown. “I’m not hot.”
“Hell yeah you are,” you said, Sloane tucking a strand of freshly curled hair behind her ear. “Eric’s going to fucking drool.”
“He better not,” she mumbled, taking a breath as she put her leg up on a chair and hiked the skirt portion up. She opened up her clutch sat on the end of the bed and slapped a very small thigh holster on her right leg, a smaller than usual gun inside. 
“Right. Cause really hot women packing heat are total turn offs for him,” you said, adjusting the strap that ran across your shoulder. She pouted and you handed her the clutch. “You said you could work with him tonight. We’re only bringing two of you inside and we wanted our best.”
“I can. He’s good about not speaking about anything but strictly work lately,” she said, sitting on the bed. “Does he seem…different to you?”
You knew why she was asking. Eric had told you he needed a few hours a week off for therapy a few weeks back. You practically jumped for joy that he was going to get some help to work through some things. Then it all shattered when he said it was related to his dad and needing to address some stuff he did to him as a kid. He didn’t share more but you had a feeling that had as much impact on him as his days in the military, probably more.
“It’s hard to tell with him,” you said, trying to respect his privacy. Plus, it actually was difficult to see a difference. Eric held everything close to the chest. Sometimes too much.
“Yeah. There’ll be no issues working together this evening,” she said, forcing a smile. You wanted to offer some reassurance that he was trying and maybe someday things between them could change. But honestly, you had no clue if they would work things out.
“Good. Well, let’s go see the boys.” A moment later you were coming down the stairs, Dean and Eric wandering out from the front hall in their tuxedos. Eric had always looked handsome when he dressed up but Dean?
He was walking sin in the tailored outfit, showing off his large shoulders and trim waist. You could feel the heat in your cheeks when he stared like he wanted to devour you then and there.
“Wow,” said Dean, a growing smile on his face, eyeing you up and down. It was a fairly simple dress. Black. One shoulder and a thin strap on the other. Form fitting up top before it became loose at the hips. It probably didn’t match black tie standard one hundred percent but it’d been sitting in your closet for two years and you finally had an excuse to wear it.
“Wow yourself,” you said, tugging on the lapel of his jacket. “Put you in one of these and you’d never imagine you spend literally every single day in flannels, henleys, and black tees.”
“Strange considering I’ve seen you wearing those clothing items a lot more yourself lately,” he teased, grinning down like a cat staring at the mouse it’d cornered.
“Oh, just a coincidence,” you said, Eric clearing his throat. You rolled your eyes, getting a roll in return. “You look nice too, Eric. I know you need the compliment on your appearance or your ego will bust.”
“Why did I take this job,” he mumbled to himself, staring at Sloane as she walked ahead for the front door. “You look beautiful.”
Sloane stopped dead in her tracks, looking over her shoulder at him, his gaze shooting to you. 
“I know you’ve wanted to wear that dress for awhile,” he said to you, Sloane rolling her eyes and walking outside. Eric closed his eyes when she was gone, Dean slapping his shoulder.
“Don’t worry, buddy. I’m sure my hyper observant protection agent didn’t catch the way you said that straight to her face and then pretended to say it to your boss.” Eric shrugged him off and grumbled on his way outside, harshly pulling the door behind him. “Damn. I was hoping they’d have some kind of fairytale moment or shit. He looked like he wanted to fuck her over the kitchen table.”
“I don’t know. We’ll just…wait and see what happens,” you said, holding out your hand. “Ready to go?”
“One sec,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling something out. He slipped something elastic over your wrist, beaming when you stared down at it to find it was a friendship bracelet, like the kind from when you were kids. This one was black, gray and white, the LA Wolves colors. You turned it over when you felt a few square beads, expecting to see DEAN.
Your heart skipped when you saw MAX with a few beads separating it from SAM. You glanced up Dean, his green eyes flittering down to where he’d removed his jacket, right sleeve pushed up. 
Dean had always had Sam’s initials tattooed on his forearm. You remember that happened at some point in college, not too long after Sam went missing. The initials right below it were new though, his skin tinged a light pink from where the tattoo was still fresh.
“Is that-”
“Max’s initials? Yeah, looks like it,” he said, a coy smile crossing his face. You held out a finger, Dean humming it was alright to touch. A thick swallow was audible as you traced over the delicate skin, black ink soaked into the creamy canvas of his body.
“Fuck you,” you whispered, Dean’s face falling.
“Sweetheart, I’m-” he said as he wiped at your eyes, mascara coming away on the back of your hand. You laughed, shaking your head at him.
“Look what you did you sweet man,” you laughed, a few tears falling free. “Dean, you didn’t have to put his name on your body.”
“Brothers go on the arm. It’s kind of my thing,” he said, your bottom lip wobbling as a swell of emotion hit you. “Are you mad?”
“No,” you croaked out, squeezing your bracelet. “I wish they were with us.”
“Me too,” he said softly, wiping his thumb under your eye, stopping a tear from falling. “Y/N.”
You met his green eyes, thumb stroking your cheek with a barely there touch.
“You understand you’re my girl, right?” You nodded, Dean’s head tilting slightly, eyes scanning down to your lips slowly and back up just as lazily. “So. Am I yours?”
You held a finger to his lips and turned towards the front door, pulling it open, Eric and Sloane both leaned against an SUV.
“We’ll leave in thirty,” you said, pulling the door shut again, finding Dean with a raised eyebrow. “I need ten to fix my makeup. The other twenty is to show you exactly how much you’re mine.”
Dean POV
I stepped outside while Y/N used the bathroom, the brisk air doing wonders for cooling me down after what I could only describe as the most intimate handjob I’d ever received. It was the one thing that stuck out to me about sex with Y/N. Every other partner I’d had, it was about release, pleasure. With Y/N though, it felt different. A good different. Yeah, it was about the pleasure there too but it was…comforting in a way, joined together. 
Once Y/N had let go of her fear of it, intimacy turned out to be one of her favorite things in the world. And it was becoming one of mine too. She just made me feel safe. Whole again.
“Told you she’d cry about the tattoo,” mumbled Eric in my ear, hands clasped behind his back. “Surprised you didn’t get down on one knee yet.”
“We understand what we are to each other,” I said, adjusting the sleeve of my jacket. “The time for that’ll come eventually but I don’t think either one of us is in a rush to get there.”
“Ready!” exclaimed Y/N, rushing outside barefoot, the skirt of her dress bunched up in one hand, heels in the other. “How late are we?”
“Oh, only forty five minutes,” said Eric, Y/N jumping in the backseat when he opened the door. “Clutch?”
“I’m the purse tonight,” I chuckled, patting my pocket where her phone, a lipstick and extra hair tie resided. 
“Good. I usually get stuck with it,” said Eric, patting my bottom. “Let’s move it kiddos.”
“Hopefully this party doesn’t suck,” said Y/N beside me as we drove up a long driveway thirty minutes later, lips pursed.
“You hate parties,” Eric chuckled from the passenger seat.
“I hate parties where people ask me to sing at their kid’s sweet sixteen which is like, almost all the time,” she said, my hand reaching over and interlacing our hands together. “Sorry. That sounded bitchy.”
“It sounded like that’s really annoying to have happen all the time,” I said, the car slowing down behind another luxury SUV. “We won’t stay long, just a few hours. I know we have to do this for me.”
“Hey,” she said, voice firm. My eyes flickered to hers in the dark space. “We both have more money than we know what to do with. I’m perfectly happy to waste an evening if it means sending some of that money to a good cause. You getting some good press out of it is a bonus.”
“I ever tell you how wonderful you are?” I asked, heart swelling up as she blushed. “Want to go show off your reformed bad boy, sweetheart?”
“You were never bad,” she said, pecking a kiss on my lips. She grinned goofily and wiped them off with her thumb. “Lipstick.”
“You can take it off if you promise to put it back later,” I said, Y/N’s eyes flirting down to my groin, a wicked smirk on her face. “Down girl.”
“I’ll play with you later,” I said as we stopped. Eric slid out of the passenger seat as I opened the back door. I exited and held out a hand, helping Y/N down in her obnoxious skinny little heels. They looked like a death trap to me but she danced around on stage for three hours in them so if anyone knew how to work them, it was her.
Damn she was sexy in that dress. Almost as sexy as those red flannel pajama pants she wore last night. And that cozy blue sweater on Thursday. Or that-
“Stop staring at her,” said Sloane, pushing on my back so I’d move and she could slip out of the backseat. “You’re like a puppy obsessed with her.”
“Be nice,” Y/N chided, taking a step forward, letting me follow her lead. Eric and Sloane fell in place behind us, the driver staying with the car and driving off towards where the cars were being parked. 
A man in a nice suit opened the front door for us, revealing a grand hall that made Y/N’s house look like a starter home. 
“This guy is loaded,” I whispered in Y/N’s ear as we found ourselves quickly surrounded by people when they caught sight of her. There must have been three hundred people at this thing.
“Here we go,” she mumbled before putting on a big smile, immediately getting asked to be in a selfie with a woman in her twenties.
For the next thirty minutes it felt like we were bombarded, stuck not ten feet past the door in a never ending line of people wanting to talk to Y/N. Yes, some people were football fans but a vast majority were there for Y/N, some nervous, some practically jumping out of their skins.
“Damn dude, you’re beyond lucky,” said some guy to me as his wife took a picture with Y/N. 
“I know I am,” I responded, Y/N giving me a flash of a smile.
“She needs a break,” whispered Eric in my ear. I stepped forward and cut off the next gaggle of women that wanted to approach. 
“Excuse me, I need to steal Y/N for a minute,” I said, taking her arm and leading her down the large open hall.
“Thanks,” she said, grabbing a glass of champagne off a servers tray. She knocked it back and I started to scan the room in search of water for her.
“Hi,” said a teenage girl in a light blue dress, approaching slowly. She seemed out of place at the event filled with adults in designer clothes. “I’m Cecilia Monroe, Sebastian Monroe’s daughter.”
Ah she was this guys kid. That made sense. “Nice to meet you. We haven’t met your father yet. We’d like to thank him for his numerous donations to the Wolves charity over the years.”
“You have a lovely home,” said Y/N, the girl blushing, clasping her hand over her wrist in a failed attempt to hide her friendship bracelet. Y/N caught it and smiled. “Did you go to the tour this year?”
“Uh yeah. My dad got VIP tickets,” she said shyly, suddenly straightening her back. “I’ll be on the veranda. Please come find me when you’re through with my dad. It’s very important.”
She scuttled away, Y/N raising an eyebrow.
“I think you have a superfan,” I chuckled, Y/N biting her lip. “You think she’s a problem?”
“No. She’s a fan clearly but I don’t know,” she said, waving for Eric and Sloane to join us from where they stood together by a table of appetizers. 
“You two good?” asked Sloane, their eyes finding the young girl and watching her leave.
“Keep an eye on that girl,” Y/N said, nodding as Cecilia went through open back doors outside. They both readied themselves but Y/N shook her head. “Just watch her. This might be a Denver situation.”
“Denver?” I asked, Eric frowning. 
“Fan in Denver was being abused by her parents. Subtly asked Y/N for help at an event. Smart kid actually,” said Eric. “Sloane and I can try a soft approach with the girl, get a feel for if something is up, relay we can keep her safe .”
“This guy does have a lot of private security,” said Sloane. “If something’s happening, she may feel safer knowing we can protect her in the interim.”
“Let’s go talk to the girl,” said Y/N just as a man in a very nice suit came striding down the hall towards us. “I think that’s our host.”
“Eric, Sloane, go see what’s up. We can fend for ourselves for awhile,” I said. They scuttled away as the man greeted us, holding out a hand and shaking mine firmly.
“Sebastian Monroe,” he said with a pleasant enough smile. “And you two are the power couple my teenage daughter will not stop talking about.”
“Yeah, we get that a lot. We said hello to her earlier,” said Y//N with a fake smile, staying close to my side when the men looked like he was going to reach for her hand. “Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Dean Winchester,” I said, taking my hand back, the other wrapped around Y/N’s waist. The man only smiled though, like we didn’t need to introduce ourselves. “I’ve heard you’re a Wolves fan.”
“Oh not anymore than anyone else,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Although a signed jersey by you would certainly go for big bucks at our next charity auction.”
“We’ll have to make that happen for sure,” I said, not enjoying the way his gaze traveled down Y/N’s body. I’d seen it plenty of times tonight but his seemed the most sleazy of all. 
“Speaking of the auction, where are the tables? I’d love to donate,” said Y/N.
“Right side of the veranda, sweetie.” Y/N hummed, giving me a look to join her as soon as I could. “Boy, if I was ten years younger.”
I couldn’t hide my annoyance, Sebastian flashing me a smile. “Oh no. Please go ahead and tell me what you’d do if you were ten years younger.”
“Easy kid. Half the population would bone her if they could,” he said, sipping from the glass in his hand. He took his turn to eye me, a curious look on his face. “You know, I could be inclined to offer another sizeable donation to the Wolves charity for those kids if I could get one of those signed jerseys myself.”
I bit my tongue, both of us aware of the clear message. Refuse and good ol’ Sebastian stops donating a million dollars each year to kids in poverty.
“I’m sure you got one around here somewhere we could fix up,” I said. Sebastian threw an arm over my shoulder and I hide my cringe. 
“Good man. Come on. I got one right in my game room.”
Reader POV
There wasn’t really anything you wanted from the silent auction but you had found a general donation slip at the end of the table and jotted down your agent’s information. You’d looked around for Eric and Sloane or the girl when you finished but hadn’t found any of them which probably wasn’t a good sign. You frowned and walked over the railings edge, looking around the dim yard for any sign of them.
“Bruschetta?” asked one of the servers. 
“No thank you,” you said without looking.
“I must insist,” he said. You rolled your eyes, ready to give it to this guy but something seemed familiar about him. He handed you one on a small napkin as you kept staring. “Take a bite and smile, pretend it’s really good.”
You’d had more than a handful of dangerous fan interactions over the years but this felt…different.
You did as he asked, faking wide eyes at the average at best food. “Who are you?”
“Do not make a scene,” he said as you finished off the food. “I need to get to your bodyguards.”
“Are you trying to protect that girl? Cecilia?” you asked as you played along and took another piece off the tray.
“What? No. I don’t have time for this,” he said, stepping in front of you, your gaze narrowing. “Do not ask questions. Just get me and Max the fuck out of here.”
“Max?” Your heart skipped a beat, the food falling from your hand as you understand where you’d seen him before. “Y-You’re Sam.”
“We’re watched. Get your guards to get us out. Don’t get caught or we’re dead,” he said, turning away and offering a couple nearby food from his tray. You swallowed, instantly putting on your performer’s smile. The one you wore that time you had food poisoning during a concert and were throwing up between songs back in the summer. The crowd had no fucking clue you felt like shit while you gave them the show of their lives.
Time to act your fucking ass off. 
You walked past Sam without a second glance, wishing you could ask him all the questions swirling around in your head. Tell him he was going to be okay. Give him a damn hug and tell him he was safe now.
But you wore that damn smile, all while your blood was boiling. You’d had a lot of dark fantasies about what you’d do to the person that took Max. In recent weeks that’d turned to include Sam too. 
It turned out the monster was a hundred feet away from you inside some fucking mansion.
“Y/N,” said Sloane, appearing through a set of open doors in the house, catching your arm a little roughly. “Stay in public.”
“I need to talk-” She shot daggers at you, shutting you up. 
“Stay in public for the love of god or Eric will kill me,” she said, loosening her grip. “In forty five seconds I need you to be the biggest distraction in the world. Do not go in any rooms with anyone. Your fame will keep you safe but only if there are people around to witness it. Eric has eyes on him. Do not ask questions. Understand?”
“Sam’s on the veranda,” you whispered, Sloane nodding. Cecilia must have told her and Eric about your brothers.
“Go give us a shot to get them out of here.” You nodded and slipped inside, heart thumping away in your throat. Max was with with Eric. Wherever he was, he was with Eric. He was safe. And Sam should have been with Sloane by then. They were both safe.
As long as they got them out of this house and into the damn car before anyone could notice. Before all those private security guards seemingly on the edge of every room could stop them. Your driver was fast though. They just had to get the boys in the car and they’d be alright.
So you needed to be a distraction. A big fucking distraction and buy them time. You froze in the middle of the hallway, watching Sebastian leave a room with Dean by his side, horribly annoyed from the looks of it. An idea sparked in your mind, one you hoped Dean forgave you for someday. 
Yeah, you knew how to cause a big fucking distraction alright.
Dean POV
“You son of a bitch!” screamed Y/N. Normal people could scream loud. A goddamn professional singer that could belt out ballads while running? The whole house went silent at her ear piercing shriek. Even the string orchestra stopped playing. I stared at her as she climbed on top of a table in the center hall, my eyes going wide. “You fucking cheater! You’re a fucking cheater Dean Winchester!”
“Excuse me?” I said, a hundred already with their phones out with even more people piling into the house from the veranda. “Sweetheart-”
“Don’t sweetheart me!” she screamed again. What the fuck was happening? “You’re a cheating bastard! You swore you were different!”
“Y/N, get off the table,” I said gently, very aware of the many phones that were facing us, even some from the freaking staff and private event security. Y/N only backed away when I reached for her, fury in her eyes so visceral it felt like it burned. “Y/N what-”
“I know what you did with her! By the fucking cherry blossoms? Our cherry blossoms? You think you can sleep around on me? I’m the motherfucking Princess of Pop! The world fucking loves me!” 
Something was wrong. Besides the fact I hadn’t cheated, Y/N wasn’t one to scream at people from tabletops. She wasn’t drunk and she wasn’t on drugs. And we had no fucking cherry blossoms. Except for the fact it was the code to get in her house. 
Trust. She was asking me to fucking trust her right now in front of three hundred people while she tore down my reputation.
If my girl was losing her shit, well damn I was going to play right along.
“Oh get off your high fucking horse!” I shouted, Y/N flinching for a brief moment like it’d stung. “I never made you promises. We aren’t even fucking exclusive!”
“What?!” she shouted back as Sebastian came over, clearing his throat.
“Perhaps if you two could-”
“This bitch is a moron for thinking I’d ever want someone like her. Of course I’m dicking around with you! You really think I want some goodie two shoes like you?”
“Man whore!” she shouted.
“Fucking prude!” I screamed back, praying to god Y/N knew that every word out of my mouth was a lie. “No wonder no one wants to date you. Getting in your pants wasn’t even worth it!”
“Funny since getting in yours just takes a smile. I’m surprised you haven’t contracted every disease known to man you pig!”
“At least I get some! You’re wound up so tight surprised anything can fucking fit up there!” Fuck, I was really going to hate myself in the morning.
Y/N was halfway through screaming back at me when I felt both my phone and Y/N’s go off in my pocket.
YOUR BROTHERS ARE SAFE. HOST SECURITY KNOWS WE GOT THEM OUT. OUR SECURITY & FEDS ON THE WAY. ETA TEN MINUTES. DON’T TRUST LOCAL COPS. CORRUPTED. HOST IS BAD GUY. STAY AWAY FROM HIM AND GUARDS. DO WHAT YOU HAVE TO TO STAY IN PUBLIC. 
“What the fuck does brothers safe mean?” I asked, tossing my phone to her. Y/N caught it one handed, her whole body relaxing momentarily before tensing again, her rage suddenly on it’s true target.
Sebastian Monroe.
“Our brothers were here,” she grit out. She ripped off her heels and hopped down onto the floor, stalking over to Sebastian slowly like he was her prey. Her face darkened and I swore she looked ready to tear someone’s throat out. “Our baby brothers were in this fucking house! As your servers! Not of their free will! No. No, they were being watched. Forced. Last I checked, our baby brothers were kidnapped and they didn’t get un-fucking kidnapped.”
She gripped her heel tight in her left hand, right clenched so hard I saw the bone against the skin of her knuckles.
“I don’t care if you weren’t the one that took them. But you kept them and I’m going to fucking destroy you for it,” she growled, approaching him as my brain tried to catch up. 
“Y/N what are-”
“I saw Sam! And he was scared and said they’d kill him if he got caught talking to me. They’re safe now but Sam and Max were forced to live here. By him.” Her head turned towards Sebastian, his own head glancing at his security team. “What the fuck did you do to our brothers?”
It clicked for me what she’d been saying, what the text meant, why Y/N had acted so out of character. So full of hatred. But I barely had a chance to feel that same hatred. 
Because in the blink of an eye, one of Sebastian’s guards grabbed at Y/N and her fist shot out, connecting with the man’s jaw. He seemed alarmed at her strength and fell back, another guard trying to get their hands on her.
“Get off!” she shouted, kneeing another guy before flipping him on his back. But there were too many of them and I rushed forward, yanking her behind me just as Sebastian got in my face.
He eyed me up and down, smirking at me. “Oh you two just made a big mistake.”
He clasped his hands together loudly as his guards surrounded us, turning his attention to the rest of the party.
“Let’s give the love birds some privacy to sort out their issues,” he chuckled. “And maybe keep an eye on the open bar, hm?”
He spun back around and leaned in close, the stench of cigars and alcohol on his breath. 
“Get your brothers back here or I’ll fuck her up so badly there won’t be anything left to bury.” He gripped my shoulder, too forcefully. “And then I’ll bury you alive in the woods all the while the world will think you got in a drunken accident on the way home. After all you had a very loud and public argument tonight. With the friends I have in certain positions of authority…I can make even you two disappear like nothing.”
Y/N gripped the back of my suit jacket tight, a slight tremble in her hand as she listened to him speak.
“Get those boys back and get those guards back in the next ten minutes or I start cutting off pieces of the damn princess of pop.”
________
A/N: Read the Final Part here!
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basilf1res · 2 years
Text
Project "GH05T"
For context, this is based on my last post
--------------------
"Project GH05T is a go."
A pause.
"Oh shit."
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Tim rubbed his hands over his face, this was going to be another long day. Firstly, this monster of a virus appeared and seems to be contained in the batcomputer. Secondly, every time he tried to purge the computer of GH05T's system, it always came back bolder than before. Thirdly, the stupid virus hopped from the supercomputer in the cave into his personal laptop and would not stop flirting with him.
So it was safe to say, Tim was rightfully pissed. This thing knew every way to make his hopeless Bisexual ass flush and it was starting to become infuriating, he'd be in the middle of finishing up his work as CEO of Wayne Enterprises and a little speech bubble towards the bottom of the screen would pop up saying something along the lines of:
"You free after work hot stuff?"
or
"I'd say I have a smokin' hot bod, but damn you take the cake and you weren't the one cremated."
And it would. Not. Stop.
He was ready to throw the laptop out a window, Tim had already replaced it three times over the course of three weeks and the virus always returned.
It was like his life was now a cringy "x reader" fanfiction and he did not have time for this.
A little bubble popped up on the corner of the screen.
"It's about time." Tim muttered, sending out the last email and finishing all his work for the day.
"So. Uhm."
Interesting, it seemed to be able to be able to express itself in ways other than death puns, witty remarks, and flirtatious texts.
"I see we haven't really introduced ourselves."
It didn't know who he was? Tim 'hmmed' in thought. "We haven't." He responded out loud, he was currently in his room at the manor.
"Well, hi! I'm Phantom, and you are...?"
Did it really not understand who's laptop it was in? Who was on the other side of the screen? Did Babs want to pull an elaborate prank of some kind?
"Tim Drake." He responded.
A little cartoon of a ghost in some black and white getup poked it's head and shoulders out from behind the taskbar at the bottom of the screen. As he floated up Tim noticed he had white hair and two electric green eyes, he had a lean body with a wispy tail instead of legs. He waved his hand, a speech bubble appearing right above his head.
"Nice to meet you, officially!"
The grin on the pale figure's skin was bright and cheery. Quite adorable.
Wait. "You're the virus?"
--------------------
Should I continue this on AO3? I'm currently working on a different pre-written fic at the moment, so even if I immediately start posting this one it may be a bit of a wait in order to get prioritized tasks done.
This was fun to write tbh.
Tags: @frostedthroughghost @akikoyuii @spiteismymiddlename
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leaentries · 1 year
Text
Bad day
luke hughes x chubby!reader
a/n- hey y’all! so guess who’s not dead 😋 i’m so so sorry i’ve been so inactive this past month! i’ve been dealing with college starting back up and my new job. but now that i’m back to semi-normal schedule, im hoping to start posting more! so please don’t be afraid to send in any thoughts or requests you may have! also, im so sorry if this is shit, i didn’t really know where i was going when i started writing. i just wanted to get something out for y’all to read😭
p.s- gif is not mine, credits to the owner!!
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some days truly never seemed to end.
even though it was only a wednesday, the bleakness of the sky and air ruined every seemingly good thing coming y/n’s way. her day started off great. waking up next to her boyfriend who gave her plenty of good morning sleepy kisses and “i love you’s.” luke even went the extra mile and warmed up her morning shower, paired with a fresh towel straight out of the dryer.
as she stepped into the shower, she felt confident that she was going to have a fantastic day. her classes were easy on wednesday and only lasted till early afternoon. although she knew that luke would be gone for practice by the time she returned home, she was excited to lounge around and be lazy for the day.
only, her day took a turn for the worst.
walking to her first class of the day, the coffee she held in her hand, that luke put so much effort into, somehow managed to slip from her grasp. the cup went tumbling into the pavement, leaving ugly light brown splotches in its wake. frustrated, she picked up the soaked cardboard.
y/n took a deep breath and quickly disposed of the cup, before continuing her journey to class. even though she felt bad for wasting the coffee, she was still set on having a great day. her class went by decently fast, ending when the professor decided to go on a tangent about his recent disk golf tournament.
on wednesdays she only had two classes, her next one being the longest. sitting down for her next lecture, she noticed the thigh portion of her jeans had begun to rip. y/n couldn’t help the feeling of dread that filled her body. those were her favorite jeans and the store in which she bought them, had discontinued this style.
sighing, she placed her head down on her arms. she decided to close her eyes, since she got to class early anyways. what seemed to be a few seconds, quickly turned into her feeling a jab to her side. she lifted her head, eyes squinting due to the bright lights. she looked over to her desk partner. julie looked back with concerned eyes.
“dude, are you okay?”
puzzled, y/n replied, “yeah….why?”
“you just slept through the entire lecture. which, by the way, prof decided to assign some stupid essay on. he said it’s gonna be due friday.”
with wide eyes, y/n stared at the clock on the wall.
i slept through the whole thing?
hitting her like a train, she turned back to julie.
“wait wait wait. an essay? shit, i don’t even know what he talked about today.”
worry gripped her like a vice. how the hell was she ever gonna get an essay done about a lecture she didn’t even listen to? there goes her plan on being lazy for the rest of the day.
“don’t worry, i got you girl. i made sure to take some major notes for you.” julie handed y/n the purple notebook, “just make sure to bring it to class on friday.” with that, julie gathered her things and left the classroom.
still stuck on the fact that she slept through the entire lecture, y/n slowly began to pack up and make her way home. rushing to her car, she made the drive as fast as possible.
not to her surprise, she was greeted with an empty apartment. she would normally be a little sad at this, but she took it with grace. the quiet will give her time to go over julie’s notes and start her essay.
❥.
by the time luke found his way through the door, it was easily past six.
“angel?” luke called into the open apartment. “y/n?” he called again. when he still received no response he walked to their shared bedroom, only to find her hunched over a desk with headphones in her ears.
he walked up to stand behind her, gently placing his hands on her shoulders and a kiss to the top of her head. her body jumped slightly, startled at the sudden touch.
“what the fuck, lukey?” she turned to him.
“awww, im sorry baby.” luke responded, chuckling slightly.
though his smile began to fall from his face when he saw the deep line of worry and distress around her eyebrows. luke felt his own furrow.
“what’s wrong, angel?” luke felt his own worry begin to set in. he could have sworn she was in a great mood this morning, recalling when she told him her plans for the day.
frustrated tears began to fill her eyes, “today has just utterly been shit. first, i spilt the coffee you spent so much time making me. then, i fell asleep durning my lecture and missed the entire thing. and to top it all off, my professor decided to assign an essay on said lecture. so now i’m having to bullshit this assignment, which means i’ll probably get a horrible grade.”
by the end of her rant, hot tears found their way from her eyes and down her cheeks. luke’s hands quickly reached to wipe them away.
“don’t cry, pretty girl. it’s okay.” luke said in a hushed voice. he swiveled the chair around, crouching to look up at her down casted face. he placed his hands on her plushy thighs, not failing to appreciate the warmth they radiated under his palms.
“hey, hey. look at me, y/n” at the sound of her name, she tilted her head up slightly, meeting his concerned filled eyes.
“you did nothing wrong. that coffee took me all of about 30 seconds to make and i can help you with your essay. i promise you, you are doing great, baby. you’ll do fine on this essay and it sounds to me like you needed the sleep anyways.” his hand reached to cradle her damp, round cheek.
“i’m sorry. i don’t know why i’m upset. it’s not like anything horrible happened. it-it’s just today was supposed to be so good. a-and,” a small sob cut through the air. taking a deep breath she continued, “and i’ve been doing this essay for the past 4 hours. i feel like i’m getting no where.”
luke’s heart hurt at the sight of his girlfriend so drained. it was a complete 180 from the cheerful attitude she had that morning. he slowly stood up, reaching over to close her laptop. she opened her mouth in protest, but was quickly cut off. “before you try and stop me, you need a break, sweetheart. you’ve made plenty of progress on your essay for today. come lay down with me. we can call in some take out and watch a movie.”
luke’s eyes gazed pleadingly into her own.
“but what if i can’t get it finished by tomorrow? it’s due at the beginning of class friday.” luke was fast to ease her worry, “i promise i will help you finish it tomorrow. i don’t have practice, so we can spend the whole day making this essay a+ material. now, go change and meet me in the living room.”
with a smile and another kiss to her head, luke walked out of the bedroom. attempting to brush off the last thoughts of her essay, y/n got up and walked to the closet. she grabbed a pair of sweats and one of luke’s big sweatshirts. putting it on reminded her of how thoughtful he is, always making sure to get them a size bigger so they’ll be extra oversized.
she smiled as the scent of his cologne filled her nose.
now completely changed, she walked out, only to be met with what seemed to be every blanket in the house set up on the couch. next to it laid plenty of her favorite snacks, along with her favorite drinks. with wide eyes, she turned to meet luke’s nervous form.
“w-what’s all this?” she gestured toward the couch. luke walked up to her, placing his hands on her full hips.
“i just wanted to do something for you, make your day a bit better. do you like it?” luke’s eyes were hopeful.
“of course, i love it.” she looked up at luke’s face, “thank you. for everything.” luke flashed his beaming grin.
“anything for you, angel,” he whispered. luke leaned down to press his lips into her soft ones. his hands pulled her hips to meet his, deepening the kiss. y/n found her own hands finding home in the curls on the nape of his neck. she gripped his hair, slightly pulling at the intensity. luke’s light groans filled the apartment.
forcing themselves apart, y/n placed her hands on luke’s shoulders as he tried to chase her lips. a whine escaped his throat, “whyyy? i want to kiss you.” a laugh bubbled out of her mouth, bringing a smile to luke’s face.
“as much as i would love to keep kissing you, i want to go lay down. and that movie isn’t going to watch itself.” with this, luke took liberty of going to lay across the couch first, opening his arms to welcome y/n into them. she didn’t hesitate to find comfort in his arms, laying her head on his chest.
luke grabbed one of the many blankets, covering them both. he placed his chin on the top of her head, grabbing the remote lying next to him.
“alright angel, what do you want to watch?”
278 notes · View notes
lucienarcheron · 5 months
Text
Spirit Meets the Bones - XV
Genre: Angst/Romance  Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. PLEASE NOTE: This chapter will contain physical abuse with some implied language that may be found triggering.
shoutout to @abruisedmuse for always listening to me ramble <3
tagging: @climb-the-mountian | @vanserrass | @positivewitch | @zenkindoflove | @animezinglife | @readthelastpaage | @clockwork-ashes | @carolynmezzosoprano | @carnythian | @runningwiththeoceans | @readychilledwine | @goldenmagnolias | @thedarkinmansfield | @mali22 | @maidr-00 | @electromagnetic-waves | @theeternalstruggle | @devilsfoodcake22 | @the-midnightwriter | @moonfawnx | @weesablackbeak | @ladywhilemia | @illyrianshadowhunter | @alohaangels | @moobell55 | @bibliophiliaxvignette | @easchies | @feysandfeels | @thelovelymadone | @corcracrow | @dawneternal | @teddyhoneybear | @sinnerrsworld | @queenoftheworld1998
Find it all here.
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The promise of death had slipped out of his mouth before he could process what was happening, and Eris’s jaw clenched as he glanced at his father-in-law, thinking of the time he had wasted playing his father’s games.
Eris had known his father would fuck around to keep him from being here when Lord Aron arrived, but he hadn’t realized the asshole had already slipped in undetected.
All the High Lord had said was, “Stay. The sight of you brings me joy, son.”
And Eris had been forced to stand in silence as his father ignored him, while Iris met with her father alone.
But if Eris pushed, Beron would only delight in twisting this nugget of information. And Eris couldn't risk it.
Although none of it mattered in the end.
Anger and a slight panic had fueled his steps, knowing his father was likely laughing his ass off after he finally released him, but it was as he set foot into the hall leading to their chambers that he froze and every single nerve in his body went on high alert. Because Eris heard Iris.
He had felt her calling for him and didn’t stop to think about how when he felt her panic course through him.
Eris winnowed directly to the front of their door and froze again, listening for a moment — his jaw clenching at the sneering of her father. To his threats against her. So many threats and Eris saw red.
Now he was crouched before his wife, his Iris, who was on the floor with bruises. Who had flinched back from him because of her father.
His wife, whom he had promised to be here with her when this piece of shit came.
He’d welcome Lord Aron warmly alright.
“Can you stand?” he asked her ever so gently and Iris massaged a hand to her throat then nodded. He held out a hand and waited as Iris watched him, her eyes looking at him with an expression he certainly wouldn’t read into now. An expression that made the beating of his heart turn erratic.
But then Lord Aron snorted and Iris flinched back, her hand shooting back to her side, her eyes snapping to her father. Eris’s hand slowly curled into a fist and he spared the Lord one look before his eyes fell back on Iris.
“I’m going to have a word with your father. Would you like to be here for this or go elsewhere?” he asked her quietly and Iris licked her lips, shaking her head.
“I’m staying.” she said hoarsely and he nodded. He had expected nothing less from her.
Slowly, Eris straightened as his father-in-law stared at him.
“That isn’t the warm welcome I expected, Eris.” Lord Aron replied then cleared his throat. “That statement is a threat.”
“Yes. It is.” Eris said simply, his eyes cataloging every detail about the awful male in front of him and his mind drifted back to every foul thing Iris had told him about her father. “Bow.”
His father-in-law blinked then flushed. “Is that necessary? We are family.”
Eris cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “Do you bow to the High Lord?”
“Of course. He is the High Lord.”
“And I am the High Lord’s son.” Eris said coldly. “I do not consider you my family, Bertillon. Bow.”
Lord Aron’s flush deepened, and he shot Iris a glare. “Look what you’ve done you stupid bi —”
A growl slipped from Eris’s lips, cutting off the lord’s rant and he held himself taut enough that it was almost painful. It took every ounce of Eris’s willpower not to rip the male apart. “I strongly suggest you not finish that statement.” Eris hissed and finally, his father-in-law had the decency to have some fear in his eyes.
Swallowing, Lord Aron shot Iris one more look of contempt before bowing his head towards Eris.
“Lower.” Eris snarled lowly.
The Lord hesitated for a heartbeat before bending at the waist.
Eris surveyed him then hummed. He glanced at Iris, still on the floor a few feet away from where both he and her father stood, watching her father with disgust. It eased his tension only slightly that her bruises had already started to fade but didn’t stop the guilt — the anger — that she had them in the first place.
His mother’s bruises flashed in his mind and Eris looked back to the second male who he would daydream about viciously shredding to pieces.
Clasping his hands behind his back, Eris spoke calmly. “I will give you one chance to answer this correctly.” he began and Lord Aron’s eyes narrowed. “Why, exactly, are you here? Other than to tell lies about your daughter.”
“I don’t have to answer you when you speak to me that way, Eris.” Lord Aron snarled and shot Iris a glare.
Eris smiled.
“Oh, but you do, Bertillon. The only reason you’re still standing where you are and not dead is because of your daughter.” he said, his tone a lethal calm and Lord Aron’s mouth twisted.
“Your father wouldn’t like that.” he replied quietly and Eris’s smile darkened.
“I suggest you worry less about my father and fix that face. I’m not one you should be looking at like that.” he said quietly. “Especially when my fire could wrap itself around your throat and I could so easily...let it burn.”
Lord Aron blanched then cleared his throat, attempting to fix his jacket for a quiet moment before answering. “I came to make sure my daughter isn’t giving you a hard time.” he replied and despite the lack of color in his face, he shot Iris another look of disdain. “I know she has the tendency to overstep her boundaries often.”
Eris blinked, feeling the very tight leash on his anger very close to snapping, his rage building and building and building. How often must he watch the people he cares about deal with this? He already had his father to deal with and now...this vermin seemed to think he could come in here and put his hands on his wife. He took a step towards the male as the room drastically heated. “Who gave you permission to come in here?”
Her father blinked. “As your father-in-law, I assumed I was welcome to come see my daughter as I wished.”
Eris let a heartbeat of silence pass, the fury whirling in his body, giving his father-in-law a moment to realize just how badly he had fucked up. A moment passed before he said too quietly and too calmly, “You assumed wrong.”
And then Eris was on him.
Fire encompassed them both as Eris wrapped a hand tightly around the lord’s neck and slammed him into the ground, hovering over him.
“No one has permission to be in here. No one.” he snarled softly. “Did my wife want you in here?”
“Let go of me.” his father-in-law hissed but a deadly smirk found its way to Eris’s lips and his grip tightened.
“Answer. The. Question.” he demanded softly. “Did she grant you permission to be in here? Because I certainly didn’t.”
“Your father —”
“Isn’t here.” Eris snapped, his fingers digging into Aron’s throat. “Answer. The. Question.”
“No.” Aron choked out and Eris’s hand heated around the lord’s throat.
“Then it seems to me,” Eris began, and it was the wrath of a god streaming from his fingertips. “That if anyone has the tendency to overstep their boundaries here, it’s you.” He spat and leaned in closer. “You forget yourself, Lord. You forget that while you are in the home of the High Lord and in his pocket, whatever permission my father gave you, doesn’t — apply — to — me.”
Eris leaned back again and whatever damper he usually had on his anger was loosened slightly so that nothing but fire could be found in his gaze.
“You made me break my promise.” he said in a deadly calm. “And then you put your hands on my wife.” Slowly, without breaking eye contact, he slid his free hand to Aron’s and with the truly sinister smile he was known for, Eris twisted his arm back and simply...snapped it.
The lord howled and a savage grin bloomed on Eris’ face.
“Yes, you should scream.” Eris said quietly. “You decided to come in here and put your hands on my wife and then have the audacity to think you’d be able to do it again. She flinched back from me because of you. And well...I don't like that.” Eris tightened his grip on Aron’s twisted arm and the lord let out another yelp. “I really, really don’t like it. So now, I’m going to break every bone in your body.”
“She’s my daughter.” her father-in-law snarled. “You can’t do this! I’ll tell your father.”
Eris let out a low laugh. “On the contrary, you can’t do anything.” he said and slid his hand to Aron’s broken one and then one by one, bent his fingers back far enough to break. Eris watched with feral delight as the lord screamed in agony, thinking of Iris’s bruised cheek. Thinking of her bruised throat.
“Consider everything I’m going to do to you as payback for everything you’ve done to her over the years.” he snarled softly and any color left on the lord’s face disappeared as the stench of his fear filled the room. “Oh yes, I’ve heard all about it. I’m going to make you regret every waking moment of your life until now.”
“Eris — son, let’s not —”
But Eris didn’t let him finish. A fist of flame slammed into Aron’s face and it sent him flying back into the table then he crumbled to the floor with a groan, his broken arm hanging useless on his side.
Eris ran a hand through his hair and rolled his shoulders back as he watched Lord Aron pitifully try to sit up. He watched him struggle, watched and knew how his cheek would swell up and that blackened eye would remain closed for a while. Delighted in the slight burn marks on his neck like a pretty necklace.
But it still felt too little. It didn’t feel like enough. He had touched his wife. His wife who he was supposed to protect and had failed. Because her father decided to overstep just like his father tried to overstep. The urge to kill and kill and kill consumed him.
His feet moved on their own, flame licking at his heels, until he crouched in front of Aron again and gripped him by his hair, yanking his head back. “Do not ever call me son, Bertillon. You are nothing to me.”
“Enough.” the lord rasped. “T-this is enough.”
Eris slanted his head, assessing him calmly. “Is it? You put bruises on my wife. You threatened her with more.” He leaned in closer as Bertillon flinched back and a wicked smirk found its way to Eris’s lips. “Did you think you could walk out of here the same way you walked in? With no consequences?”
“Eris — we can —”
“Didn’t anyone tell you?” Eris spoke and it was almost like he was in a trance as he let his fire wrap around his father-in-law’s neck once more. “I really, really don’t like it when people think they can overstep their boundaries with me, and you are too confident for your own good.”
He watched Lord Aron swallow thickly and his smirk widened.
“I - I’m sorry — let’s just —”
Eris clicked his tongue and Aron silenced immediately. “You shouldn’t be apologizing to me. You should be apologizing to Iris.”
Lord Aron’s face flushed, and he sent a glare toward Iris, who watched all this in stunned silence.
“I have nothing to apologize to her for. She’s my daughter. I will treat her as I see fit.”
Eris said nothing for a moment, simply watching the male then nodded. Tightening his grip on the male’s hair, Eris slammed him back into the table once more then pulled him closer.
“Let’s try that again.” he said calmly. “Don’t be stupid now, Bertillon. If I tell you to apologize, you will apologize.”
Lord Aron blinked a few times, the slam to his head clearly dazing him. Eris only watched him as he blinked again stupidly then his eyes flickered to Iris, his gaze hardening. “Why would I apologize when she puts me in positions like this?”
“These are the consequences of your own actions. Your mouth and hands put you in this position, you scum.” Eris snarled softly. “You are the only one responsible for your choices so apologize.”
Aron attempted to glare, barely able to with one eye swollen shut. His lip curled in disgust, glancing once more at Eris then back at Iris.
“I can say the words all you want,” he spoke quietly, his eyes never leaving his daughter. “But I will never mean them. I am sorry for nothing, you useless girl.”
Eris blinked then smiled slowly, ever so gently tugging his father-in-law’s head back, bringing his gaze back to meet his eyes. “I see.” he said softly. “I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way then.”
Aron licked his lips quickly, glancing between Iris and Eris before opening his mouth to speak. “W-wait —”
But Eris tightened his grip and Lord Aron blanched, falling silent immediately. Eris let the blazing flame in his gaze rest on Aron, his hands heating around his throat once more, taking a deep breath.
“I wonder,” Eris began, his voice as soft as a lover’s. “Where should I begin with you?”
Aron made a choking sound as Eris dragged him by the throat closer to him, watching as he turned slightly blue.
“Should I start with your spine? I know exactly where to break it so you don’t die too quickly and suffer properly. Make sure you really feel it.” he said with an unhinged smile. “What about a few burns? We can start right at a second degree then quickly go deeper. Maybe some permanent damage? I could give you a permanent facial deformity. Your physical appearance should match how disgusting you are on the inside, no?”
“Eris — wait —”
Eris slammed Aron’s head back into the table again, earning him a groan. “You know what? Let’s start with your other arm. You don’t really need your hands anyway.”
And Eris saw nothing, registered nothing else aside from his fists and his magic unleashing themselves on his father-in-law. He was vaguely aware of him snapping Aron’s other arm. Recalled briefly the feel of his nose crunching beneath his fist. 
But it didn’t matter. It wasn’t enough.
He wanted his blood to fill the halls. He wanted every bone in his body to turn to dust. He wanted him to shrivel into ash.
Most of all, Eris wanted to take back every moment Iris had been alone with him, take back the panic she had felt — that Eris had felt.
The panic Eris had felt at his own father’s smug smile from earlier. His father, who Eris had no doubt, allowed this idiotic male to walk around this cocky.
A scream of agony tore through his thoughts, and it made Eris grin as a sound of bone crunching followed. The feeling of the bastard’s blood coating his knuckles as his fist collided again and again and again until —
He heard something else.
“Eris.”
His name.
A gentle hand touched his shoulder through the flame encompassing him. Flame that would burn anyone else but one —
Only when her voice said his name once more, did he pause and turn to look at his wife slowly.
She was standing before him, her eyes wide but Eris saw no fear in them, just — just concern.
“Eris, it’s okay. You can stop now.” she said softly, her hands still on his shoulder.
He blinked. “He hurt you.” Eris said simply and Iris licked her lips as she squeezed his shoulder gently.
“I know. But I think that’s enough.” she said, and her gaze flickered to her father for a moment before meeting Eris’s gaze again. “I think he’s learned his lesson.”
“He’s owed more than this.” Eris replied, his gaze locked on her beautiful face, still healing. “He made me break my promise.”
“I know.” she agreed and didn’t break his gaze, giving him a tight smile. “But I don’t want him ruining the carpet. I think you can let him go.”
Eris blinked again and the corner of his mouth lifted. He kept his gaze on his wife and when Iris nodded briefly, he nodded back. He turned back to her father and gave his swollen, broken figure a look of disgust.
“Consider this a warning,” Eris began coldly. “You are no longer related to Iris. You will have nothing to do with her or with me. You will not come near either of us. You will not ask about her, attempt to visit, or attempt to contact her at all.” He turned to Iris. “Does this sound reasonable to you, wife?”
She blinked in surprise then nodded. “Yes.”
“Good.” he said with a smile that was anything but kind as he turned back to his father-in-law. “If I find out that you even thought about crossing those boundaries, I will tie you to a column in the middle of the courtyard and torture you in all the methods you think the High Lord has tried and more. Do I make myself clear?”
The lump of flesh that was Lord Aron gave a weak nod. Satisfied, Eris stood then dragged the limp body of his father-in-law and opened their chamber door to find several of his sentries waiting there.
“Dump him in an empty room. He isn’t allowed to see a healer for a few hours. I want him to be reminded of this pain every moment until then.” he commanded. “If anyone asks, tell them it’s my business. Should they ask again, I’ll gladly pile them right next to him.”
Eris glanced down at what was left of Lord Aron and granted his father-in-law one last look of burning rage. “Consider yourself lucky to be alive, you filthy piece of shit.” he swore and crouched down to meet his trembling gaze. “This time you got off easily. Next time...there won’t be anything left of you to find. I can promise you that.”
He watched his father-in-law twitch slightly, a small whimper slipping from the male’s lips and savage satisfaction coursed through Eris’s veins. Using one finger, the Prince of Autumn pressed into his father-in-law’s throat and let a little heat surge through it. The lump that was his father-in-law made a choking sound that only caused Eris to smile darkly. “You are very very lucky your daughter wanted to grant you a little mercy. I don’t consider it in my nature when it comes to filth who overstep their boundaries, especially when you don’t deserve it.” he snarled softly. “I pray you aren’t foolish enough to approach Iris again because I will simply delight in showing you exactly how much I like to let it burn.”
With that, Eris straightened and waved a hand, watching as his sentries dragged what was left of Lord Aron.
Eris let a ragged breath shudder out of him before turning back into their chamber and closing the door behind him. He needed to calm his rage. Calm the level of anger and tension coming off him in waves. He knew the room had heated the moment he stepped back into it but was hesitating to turn around, hesitating to find Iris and see fear in her eyes. Turning slowly, his eyes immediately found his wife who was staring at the spot where her father had been, the flecks of his blood splattered on the floor.
He swallowed hard then cleared his throat and said, “I’ll have someone clean it.”
Iris’s head snapped up to him and Eris paused in place. His throat bobbed at her assessing gaze and he clasped his shaking hands behind his back. He knew he looked rumpled, wild even, and knew he was still running on a lot of anger, his body coursing with so much adrenaline at the way his magic had thrived to be released.
He had always held himself on a tight leash and this wasn’t the way he wanted Iris to see him unrestrained. Not in a way that could instill fear. Only last night she had told him she was still scared and now —
Eris waited, watching her with a look that matched the intensity of what he was feeling. He couldn’t help the cascade of emotions coursing through his body when he looked at her, cataloging how she stood. The feeling of it was about to bring him to his knees. He took a quiet breath, relaxed his shoulders, and let his hands fall to his sides as he waited for Iris to speak.
But he said nothing. And she said nothing.
Iris watched him as he watched her, and a faint sense of dread began to slide its way through his bloodstream. After a moment, she took a hesitant step towards him then froze as her gaze fell to his hands and Eris felt his heart drop. He watched her swallow then turn and silently make her way to their bathroom. He watched her go and waited for a tense moment, wondering if she would lock herself in there to stay away from him. Had he gone too far? Had he scared her?
He swallowed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to handle her avoiding him again. Not after last night. Not after everything that just happened.
He felt that dread start tingling in his fingertips and make its way steadily up his arms and his chest — he felt too much. And he wasn’t ready for something he had barely begun to enjoy to crumble.
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