#I’m not going back and rewriting this shit

[orions-choker]

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Serial Killers, Murder, Obsessions, Yandere tendencies, more to be added.

Chapter Seven

A/N: I am still pissed that I lost this entire chapter and had to rewrite it but I finally did it. Rewriting this I realize just how stupid I made the reader in this story my bad folks I promise I dont think you guys are all this dumb <3

Her fault? Her fault? People were dying because of her, she didn’t…how, why? In a panic she grabbed the phone again, punching her fingers harshly into the buttons. Kirk’s voice crackled through the phone warmly, Like cold water to a fresh burn it was soothing. “Hello?” He asked. It was enough to force Y/N’s mouth to part, finally pushing out the words in a panic.

“Kirk, fuck, its me, I need.” She gasped out as she dropped to the floor with the phone in her hand. Her legs finally gave out as the tear spilled out across her cheeks. “I need you to come over here, please, please.” Y/N begged, unable to explain any further. She was left a babbling mess as she cried into the phone.

“Y/N?” Kirk asked, confused. “What? What's wrong, calm down and breathe.” He instructed her gently, but when her sob broke over the phone he responded. ‘Oh shit, I’ll be right there.” Even as the phone went dead she clutched it to her chest like a lifeline. She jumped as her front door opened. Then Kirk was there, his hands gentle on her shoulders as he pulled her in against his chest. He hadn’t even had the chance to change out of his own wet clothes.

She felt the phone being pried away gently from her hands and placed back down, the incessant ringing of a dead line finally being silenced. Kirk was cautious with her as he helped her to her feet from the floor and sat her down on the couch. Her kneeled before her his eyes wide with concern, hands heavy on her knees as he grounded her back in reality. “What happened?” He asked gently.

How could she describe the phone call that had just transpired, how did, how did the caller know she had just got home. It had hardly been minutes since she entered her front door. He was watching her, he had to be. Every gaze she felt on her back in the middle of the night had to be real. “I got a call…” She finally mumbled, the shock coursing through her system had her eyes glazed over. “It’s him, the killer, the one on the news he’s calling me.”

The way Kirk’s face contorted made her stomach since. He didn’t believe her, he was going to think she was crazy. His eyebrows raised, lips curled up awkwardly into some sort of astounded half smile. “What are you talking about Y/N?” He asked, his voice a little lighter than it had been before. “Are you serious?”

“Yes I’m serious, I wouldn’t fucking lie about this!” She hissed, curling her hands into the collar of Kirk’s shirt, dragging him up a little further so he was eye level with her. She watched the surprise take over his face, his eyes hardening into something serious as he soaked in just how shaken up she was about this. “Oh god I need to-” She looked around in a panic, she didn't know what she needed to do. “I need to call the police.. I think.”

As she reached over for the phone again Kirk’s hand suddenly stopped her. “No,” He said quickly, pulling her shaking hand back down into her lap. She looked down at him in shock, her eyebrows furrowing. She parted her lips to protest against him once more when he shook his head to continue speaking. “That's not a good idea Y/N, they're not going to believe you.” He ran his thumb soothingly over the back of her palm. “Think about it, you were just down there today giving a witness statement and now you’re getting calls? The police are gonna think you’re making it up or you have some sort of…mental problem.”

That made sense…maybe? Y/N was hesitant, sure it seemed like an unlikely turn of events but shouldn’t they still know? What happens if it escalates further? But when she looked into Kirk’s soft eyes she figured he wouldn’t lead her astray. “Then what do I do?” She squeaked out. “I don’t want to be next, I don’t want anyone else to die because of me.”

Kirk could physically see the burden weighing down on her. "What do you mean because of you, this isn’t your fault Y/N…we will figure it out nothings gonna hurt you when I'm here okay?” He leaned up, sitting beside her on the couch and tugging her down into his chest, her cheek pressed against the damp fabric of his shirt. “I’m gonna help you figure this out…”

She believed him, she had no reason not to. The fierce determination in his voice soothing her aches and worries if only slightly. She nodded slowly. “Okay, I…Just don't want to be alone, m’scared.” She mumbled against him. Her arms wrapped around his back to curl her fingers into his shirt. His regular scent was mingled with the damp smell of lake water, he was cold to the touch. She knew she was in a similar state and she shivered.

“I won't leave you alone baby don’t worry.” He assured her gently. “Why don’t you come stay with me tonight?” He asked, pulling back to look down at her assuringly. He watched the unease settle into her eyes. “I already promised you I’m not going to try anything, I mean it, I just want to keep you safe near me.”

Y/N hummed in thought. She shouldn’t. Every logical part in her brain was screaming to call the police about it, call her parents, stay put. But when she drowned in those sweet honey brown eyes she spoke only with her heart. “Y-yeah, okay, let me just leave a note for m’parents that I’m spending the night.” She whispered as she shakily stood up and grabbed the notepad beside the phone. She made her best attempt to still her shaking hand as she scrawled out a hasty note. “You sure you’re mom wont mind?” She asked softly.

With a shake of his head Kirk smiled at her, maybe a bit too easily considering the situation they had found themselves in. “Nah, it’s fine, come here.” He wrapped an arm around her waist as he walked her to her front door again. He noticed the way her body stiffened and hesitated as they stepped back outside into the night, her eyes darting around the darkness. “Calm down, no one's out here, I'm right here.” He soothed her.

Oddly it didn’t do much to calm her nerves. She could feel it prickling across her skin, like she could sense the very presence of this sick and twisted aura. It prodded the back of her mind, even as they entered Kirks house, all the way up to his room. It didn’t go away, faded maybe to a dull throb but she still felt on edge…and cold, really fucking cold. “Can I shower?” She asked barely above a whisper.

“Oh, yeah shit of course.” Kirk nodded quickly, his eyes widening in a cute way as he realized just how much she looked like a shaking wet rat. “Down the hall to the left, I’ll find you something to wear, kay?” His hand traced along the small of her back comfortingly as she stumbled past him on uneasy legs. He watched her worriedly before he heard the door click behind her.

The warm water against her skin did little to wash away the shock of everything that had transpired in the course of a short half hour. Her eyes glazed over as she stared at the unfamiliar tiling in Kirk’s shower. His water ran just a little hotter than her own, reminders that she wanted the comfort of her own home right now. But she couldn't bear the thought of being alone knowing her parents wouldn’t be home till late so she would have to suck it up and stay with Kirk. Which of course wasn't all that bad.

Even if she felt uneasy she was with someone else, he was protective of her. He was the only other safe option she knew. She didn’t know why she trusted him so wholly, how long had it been since they started hanging out? Had he given her a whole lot of reason to trust him actually? That weird moment with the knife in his glove box, the inconspicuous scratches he always seemed to be inflicted with, the very fact that they had been in that very alley a body was found in only a couple hours later. The more the thought swirled in her head the more a deep panic settled into the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t gotten that phone call until she had come home from being out with Kirk tonight, only a couple moments after he had left her at her front door. Why was he so insistent she didn’t call the police?

She blinked as the hot water began to burn her skin. She shook her head trying to shake the thoughts from her mind quickly. This was stupid it was just weird coincidences. Technically she had known Kirk since they were kids; he had always been her neighbor. He was a dorky awkward kid and not much had changed despite how pretty he was now. He didn’t have it in him to hurt anyways, it was just…weird coincidences.

With a creak the pipes halted the stream of running water, Y/N turning the knobs to off tightly until the soft dripping sound ceased. Her wet feet padded against the floor as she returned to Kirk’s room in the fluffy towel she had found. Kirk scrambled to his feet at the sight of her, grabbing a pile of clothes he had left on the bed. “Here, They’ll be big but they’ll fit, I’ll be right back okay? I’m just going to shower now as well.” He placed the bundles of fabric in her arms.

Dread filled her stomach at the thought of being left alone in his room even for a moment. “You said you wouldn’t leave me.” She whispered in a soft panic, her eyes darting to the open window of his room that faced her own. This creep could see into her room so he could definitely see into Kirks. She clutched the clothes to her chest as she looked up at Kirk wide eyed.

He frowned as he followed her gaze and quickly he pulled his own blinds down. “Just five minutes I promise you will be okay.” He assured her. “My mom’s in her room down the hall, no ones coming in here.” He placed his hands heavy on her shoulders as he held her gaze. She believed him oddly. With a soft nod she let him leave, the door clicking behind him and granting her the couple moments of privacy she needed to change.

Kirk’s clothes fit her mostly well, he was lean, not particularly bulky so she wasn't swimming in them. But they were a bit long. It was nice nonetheless, that warm scent of cinnamon and something sweet surrounded her. Just the most subtle trace of nicotine and smoke clinging to the fabric. Carefully she climbed into Kirk’s bed beneath his sheets as she waited for him.

She wasn’t timing it but she was pretty sure he had taken exactly five minutes before he was entering the room again, dripping wet with a towel tucked tightly around his waist. Her mouth went dry at the sight, even though just a few hours prior she had been swimming nearly naked with him, he still looked unfairly attractive at this moment. It served as a good distraction actually, soaking him in. “Eyes up here Y/N.” He said teasingly, snapping her out of her daze.

“Sorry,” She whispered sheepishly, her cheeks flushing as she brought her eyes back up to meet his. “You’re pretty,” She said honestly, enjoying the way he flushed at her compliment. Then she frowned again. “Seriously I don't…know what to do about all of this, I don’t want to die Kirk.” She ran her hands across her face in exhaustion from the whole ordeal.

Kirk matched her frown and nodded. “I know baby, I’m not gonna let you die. I promise you that, we’ll figure it out.” He nodded assuringly. His hands dropped down to the edge of the towel that was keeping him semi decent. “Close your eyes, or don’t it's fine either way.” He shrugged as he began dropping the fabric from his waist.

Y/N squeaked and covered her eyes quickly before she caught an eyeful. “Give me more of a warning next time Jesus.” She huffed as she listened to the soft rustling of fabric as Kirk got dressed again. “I’m already dealing with the shock of having my life threatened. I don't need a heart attack from seeing your…dick.” She hissed.

“Okay ouch,” Kirk said, offended as he pried her hands away from her face once he was covered once more. “Personally I think if you saw my dick it might solve some problems.” The icy glare she gave him after made him wince. “Okay sorry, not funny.’ He mumbled as he sat down on the edge of his bed. “I’m gonna work on some guitar shit, but you can sleep. I'll be watching.” He ran a soft hand across her shoulder.

It was a bit funny, she would have laughed in a better situation. Right now though her face was screwed up in annoyance. “You are insufferable, remind me not to come to you in a crisis again.” She groaned as she settled back against his pillows. “But yeah…okay, goodnight Kirk.”

“Night Y/N…”

[blasvemous]

Something from @wynnyfryd series Trailer Park, specifically part 39

[pdalicedraws]

They’re talking past each other a little bit.

[first] [previous] [next]

[index]

(Happy Halloween, y’all! I do NaNoWriMo every year, so I’m afraid we’re going down to just Tuesdays for the month of November, and I reserve the right to go on hiatus if I risk falling behind on my wordcount lol. Wish me luck writing 1,667 words a day!)

[watermelonsloth]

Should Shikamaru have become a Medic Nin?

Back when I made my post about Ino on the Sasuke Retrieval Mission, I ended up returning to the manga to review some info. While reviewing, I returned to Shikamaru’s reaction to the failed mission/his comrades being okay. I could talk about how fucked up Temari and Shikaku’s reactions to Shikamaru’s very reasonable self-doubt/guilt was, but for now I’ll just talk about his interactions with Tsunade following those reactions. Specifically how (and I might just be reading into this) their interactions seem to hint at him becoming a medic ninja.

First, some review/background info for anyone who hasn’t read the manga/watched the anime in a while. The scene starts with Shikamaru and Temari sat outside Choji’s hospital room. At this time, Choji and Neji are under intensive care, Kiba has barely woken up, and Naruto and Sasuke are both still missing in action. Shikamaru feels guilty for, despite being team leader, walking away mostly unscathed and tells Temari that he’s considering quitting being a shinobi altogether. Temari tells him off for being emotionally “delicate” and Shikaku tells him off for being a “coward” (specifically saying that him leaving the field won’t actually protect anyone). Then Tsunade shows up to say that Choji is stable, Shizune says Neji is stable and Naruto’s returned alive, and Tsunade says she couldn’t have asked for more than them all getting out alive. Shikamaru promises the next mission will be perfect and the chapter ends.

This is a nice moment, but it’s not really relevant to my point outside of Tsunade mentioning that the “Nara Clan’s Sacred Medicine Guide” was helpful. The main reason I brought this up is because of how it frames the next scene.

So, the last scene was Shikamaru anxiously waiting outside the ninja icu for his best friend to survive feeling so useless that he wants to quit his job, something he only decides against after hearing that his team isn’t dead and being told that if he doesn’t want his friends to die, he should work to better keep them alive in the future. The next scene is him talking to Tsunade about how every team should have a medic nin and what it takes to become one. For the people who framing isn’t their strong suit: it’s following up a scene about a character realizing that to reach their goal (keeping their friends alive) they need to step up and work harder with a scene explaining how hard medic nin have to work to step up.

You can't even argue that Kishimoto doesn’t know that the previous scene will impact how the following scene is interpreted because he does it for the literal next scene transition. Almost immediately after Tsunade ominously saying that first-rate medics need a “special something” (literally only 2-3 panels apart) it cuts to Sakura, future medicine extraordinaire. At most, you can argue that Kishimoto intended for the scene to be interpreted as Shikamaru becoming a smarter strategist or that Kishimoto wasn’t considering transitions between chapters. But unintentional readings are still valid, so I think my point still stands.

Now that I’ve talked about the story structuring that started me down this rabbit hole, let’s talk about the actual story. Should Shikamaru become a medic nin?

I first want to go over whether or not Shikamaru has what it takes to become a medic nin according to Tsunade. She lists the qualifications as follows: a light and precise hand, an enormous amount of expertise, an adeptness at practical application, patience, and a “special something”.

Taking her first point literally, Shikamaru is pretty precise in all that he does and I don’t think shaky hands will be a problem for him considering all of the awkward positions he maintains for his different shadow jutsu. Taking it in a more metaphorical “gentle but efficient touch” sort of way, I also think it applies, at least when it matters. The best example of this is when he dragged Naruto out of his depression after Jiraiya’s death, but I’ll also mention how he became friends with Choji by standing up for him (in his own way) and how he deferred to Ino in the Forest of Death about protecting Sakura. Expertise is easily yes because it’s just training and Shikamaru has shown his willingness to put in the work if it’s for the people he cares about. I don’t think practical application will be a problem for two reasons: 1. Considering he’s able to translate shoji, a board game, into on-field strategies, he seems pretty good at translating practice into practicality, 2. Shikamaru just got out of a conversation with Temari about how he was too naive and that there’s a difference between training and doing, it wouldn’t make sense for him not to try getting better at the doing part after saying that. Patience is probably the most obvious. Asuma literally described him as doing everything at the pace of an old man. The “special something” isn’t explicitly defined in-manga, but it’s implied to be a person’s personal drive to do something/reach a goal. While it isn’t exactly something I’d describe Shikamaru as having at this point in the series, I would say him gaining it would align with his character arc of gaining that drive and learning to follow it.

Speaking of character arcs, I also want to get into how I think him becoming a medic would impact his character quality. I’m not gonna detail how him becoming a medic would be better payoff to his two scenes with Tsunade at the hospital because I’ve already gone into them and I think you’re smart enough to figure that out yourself. I also won’t get too into the other main benefit to him becoming a medic because I’ve already made a post on the topic. OGs of this blog may remember my post about Shikamaru’s sexism and how it should’ve been addressed in-series. Shikamaru becoming a student of Tsunade would absolutely do this. Not only would he be acknowledging her prowess as a ninja, but it would also give him a positive female role model (one who didn’t shame him for his feelings and would absolutely understand his fear of his loved ones dying in the field due to his failure). Plus, depending on your conclusions about the ninja world, by becoming a medic, he might be entering a female dominated field. I also think that him becoming a medic/doctor/surgeon would be a good (and potentially better) end to his character arc about motivation and self discipline because the medical field is absolutely ruthless and slackers aren’t gonna make it.

Some miscellaneous thoughts I had are also that expanding on the Nara clan’s ties to medicine would be interesting, Shikamaru probably has the chakra control for the job considering his clan jutsu, the series is in dire need of more male medic nin, there would be way more tragedy to Asuma’s death if Shikamaru couldn’t save him even with medical ninjutsu, I think Shikamaru killing Hidan using his knowledge of the human body (like irreversibly paralyzing him or just slowly cutting him to bits with the chakra scalpel rather than blowing him up) would be cooler, and Asuma wanting Shikamaru specifically to take care of Kurenai and Mirai would make more sense if he was a doctor.

If nothing else, I think Shikamaru becoming a medic ninja would make more sense than Ino and arguably Sakura.

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

Sophie Shepard & Kaidan Alenko (ME2) 1/?

MIRA'S MORE CANON ME2 "The wrong place at the right time..." AKA: The aftermath of Stealing Memory. Mass Effect 2: Legendary Edition (2021)

[ciderjacks]

argh. This comic writing is taking me way longer than usual. I keep editing things and it doesn’t feel right.

[aaaaaaaaagenloser]

(Tw: kinda transphobia? Use of it/its for a character who hasn’t declared what their pronouns are yet. Arguments over whether a character is a person or not; that ties into the pronoun thing here. Bonus points for descriptions of canon-typical gore yipeeee)

An update from after writing this: oh this. Got. This one got away from me?? I think I started this at 4 minutes past the hour. It is now 43 minutes past the hour. shitt.

Update; it is now 17 minutes after the NEXT hour. 26 minutes after th last update. I have seen god in the past hour and she shook in fear of both my power and audacity. I have lunch with my family scheduled in like 6 hours and I have not yet slept. This wasn’t meant to be as long as it is but I was possessed and this is the result. I may edit it and make it smoother later but I’ll make that a separate post, I want this sleep-deprived chunk of words to be here as like a monument to the fact that I could have been playing stardew valley during this time but I chose to do this instead

TLDR: long ass story ahead written by a sleep-deprived and hyperfixation-driven author. Who is now going the fuck to BED

“We can’t just keep it! What if it has a tracking device? It won’t let us fucking touch it so there’s no way of knowing it has one unless it leads them right to us!”

“Ok, I hear you but think. That hasn’t happened yet. It’s been about what, three days? and that hasn’t happened, and they haven’t been violent towards any of us at all. They haven’t tried to go back either, so there’s no risk of them telling or leading Showfall where we are.”

“Why do you keep calling it ‘they’?”

“Well they can’t be an “it” now can it? …wait.”

“Ok can we figure out the gender of the thing in the other room after we figure out if it’s a threat to us or not. It’s not even a fucking person, you remember what those things did to you back there, don’t you?”

“Those people were not themselves, they were just doing what he wanted them to do—“

“They’re not fucking people! Those things are all part of Showfall, just like Hetch was! It’s just waiting for the right time to turn us in, or pull some shit on one of us like they did before.”

“They weren’t… they weren’t in control.”

“Yeah like fuck they weren’t, I saw it fucking happen!”

“You can’t just… Ok. Sneeg. Stop. You don’t speak for me, the one who, oh I don’t know, was the one that shit happened to? They were being controlled just like us—“

“No, no, not like us. We were wandering around and not knowing what the fuck was happening. None of us knew what was happening. We just went along blindly. Those things—on purpose—dragged you to that stupid wall and sewed wires into your hands—“

“Shut up, Sneeg—“

“No you shut up! You didn’t see it fucking happen! I saw them and Bitchface literally hold you down until you passed out! They were fucking choking you, they fucking—they nearly fucking killed you with just their hands, that’s not a little suggestion in the back of your brain, that’s on purpose! That is fucking deliberate, that is a thing those machines chose to do! You don’t remember, you weren’t conscious when they fucking stapled you to the wall and strapped your head in—“

Sneeg glanced at Ranboo for a moment in-between pacing as he ranted, and the far away look in their sibling’s eyes shut them up immediately. Ranboo was still present, thank fuck, but they were looking at their brother like he was holding up a knife to their throat.

“Fuck, Ran, okay, okay—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… shit. Do you need Charlie?”

“You don’t know when to shut the fuck up.”

“…okay. Okay. I’m sorry. Do you need me to get Charlie?”

“No, I’m fucking fine.” It did not sound like he meant that at all. His voice was less steady than before. “I don’t want him to worry about our… hitchhiker. He’s worrying enough about… well, everything.”

“The fact that it’s here, so close to us is the reason I’m trying to get you to see, Ran. What if it turns on him? What if it does that shit to him when we aren’t there?”

“We will be there.”

“And when it tries anything, we can kill it?”

“Sneeg!”

“You wouldn’t kill it, even if it hurt our fucking brother?”

“Of course we wouldn’t keep them around if they did that, could we at least just… just leave it behind? …wait, no, they couldn’t take care of themselves. If we had to leave it behind, maybe we should…”

Silence lingered for a bit too long.

“We should what, Ran?”

“…Sneeg, I was about to say that killing it would be a mercy.” The Hero laughed. “Doesn’t that sound familiar?”

The Taken didn’t reply.

“We have to help them. I don’t… I don’t want to be on the other end of a mercy killing. I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.”

“Okay. I’m—are you okay?”

“…m fine. It’s fine. Just. Can you stop acting like they’re any different from us? Please.”

“What do you want me to think then?” His voice was softer than it had been a few minutes before.

“Just assume that they… that they were someone. Just like we were before. And they didn’t… they didn’t do anything on their own, it was all Showfall.”

“Okay. Fine. Let’s assume they were controlled, they didn’t mean to, so on and so forth. Why haven’t they talked yet.”

“I don’t think any of the drones even could talk. Wait, should we really be calling them a drone—“

“Shut the fuck up, Ranboo, we have got to figure out what to do with it. It probably doesn’t even know what is happening, what the fuck does it matter what we call it.”

“It matters to me! Do you want me to call you by your title? Do you want to call me by mine? …No? Then why are we treating them like all they are is what Showfall made them? We had lives before, we were someone, so they must have been too. They might not realize it, or… or act like it, but they used to be someone. They are a whole person, Sneeg. We have to help them, we can’t just leave them behind because that would mean we are giving up on someone just like us, and we cannot give up on each other. They… they would have hurt us by now if they were going to. And Showfall hasn’t found us since… you know, which means there aren’t any more trackers.

…okay, Sneeg?”

“…okay. If it,” he sighed at the look Ran gave them, “if they try anything, we have to leave them behind. I’m not letting a dumbass puppet be the reason we get taken back.”

“If they—ok, whatever, you’re not understanding. You can’t say one of us somehow wanted to be controlled, and they’re a ‘puppet’ but those rules don’t apply to the rest of us—“

“There is not an ‘us,’ Ran! That thing isn’t like us!”

“Guys?”

A sleepy voice shut the two of them up instantly. They had a split-second conversation with their eyes before looking to their brother. ‘We aren’t done talking about this’ ‘You’e absolutely right, so later?’ ‘Later.’ ‘We’re telling Charlie nothing happened?’ ‘Of course.’ ‘Ok good plan.’

“Why are you two fighting? I’m tired, can we please go back to sleep?”

“We weren’t fighting, we were…”

“…talking about plans for tomorrow. And you can go back to sleep.”

“I don’t want to be by myself.” Charlie looked at Sneeg pointedly, who sighed to Ranboo with a playfully annoyed expression.

“Well I guess I gotta go be a teddy bear again.”

“Have fun”

“Absolutely not.”

Charlie punched Sneeg in the shoulder lightly for that, who just giggled in response and led his little brother back to their room.

Which left Ran by themselves.

Some nights, he would join them, but some nights Charlie couldn’t stand to be anywhere near Ran, and the three of them had made a silent mutual agreement that Charlie trusted Sneeg more than he did Ranboo.

…Ranboo was okay with this. He wasn’t hurt by it. He didn’t cry on the nights he slept by himself.

He didn’t wish he could be the one Sneeg comforted sometimes. They were just fine.

They were fine, which is why they went to the living room where their… well. Their hitchhiker? They weren’t exactly a brother, or a sibling, more like a fourth wheel on a tricycle. Or a flyaway hair. Okay, maybe Ranboo needed to get tbr fuck to sleep, alone or not.

But he found himself in the living room, where their hitchhiker slept. Or, didn’t sleep, as they seemed to not need to. They would sit on the couch and stare idly at the tv. That was what had started the whole conversation with Sneeg in the first place; Ran wanted to leave some kind of entertainment for the fourth person so they wouldn’t be made to sit in the dark for hours. Sneeg took this remark as a perfect opportunity to explain all the reasons why the former drone should be abandoned, but Ranboo would have fucking none of it. Maybe the couch potato (shit, he really needed to come up with a name for them—) didn’t seem to sleep, barely ate, and stayed still unless actually verbally told to move, but they were still a person. Ranboo was sure of it.

Their hand wandered up to the fresh scabs where their mask had been. The fourth person had a mask, one that hadn’t been touched. Despite usually staying still, the person—(Ranboo thinks they might just call this person Couch for now. Maybe it’s not accurate, and they’re tired, but it’s something. C, for short.)

C would back away any time the others would try to get near them. And they did in fact try, but despite how creative or sneaky they got, C always ducked away. It reminded Ranboo of the drone who had followed them with a camera, always one step away and never letting the Hero get too close.

The mask turned to Ranboo, who stared back quietly. C hadn’t talked at all, so Ranboo didn’t expect them to suddenly start now. He wasn’t even sure if they understood what was said to them, but Ranboo wanted to try anyways. Better to be polite.

“Do you like the show that’s on? I think it’s called Lucy, or something. I don’t know, Sneeg said it was funny. And it didn’t seem, uh- scary or anything.”

The mask didn’t speak.

“If you want to change it, the remote’s right there, um, I showed you how to use it before. And there’s like, instructions drawn on there. You can thank Charlie for that one.”

…

“I think I’m going to head to bed.”

…

“Fuck it, can I stay here?”

The mask still didn’t speak, but the head hidden behind it tilted a bit at the sudden change in tone. Ranboo took this as an absolute win.

“So I just. I don’t want to be by myself. And I don’t think you sleep, I mean if you just sleep when everyone else is asleep that’s cool, but also if so how do you even? function? on that much sleep? It really isn’t that much but to be fair you don’t do much so maybe you don’t need it. …do you sleep sitting up? And just somehow wake up when we get close? I know, um. Sorry about that, again, we were just worried your mask had a tracker like mine used to.”

Ran laughed nervously. “I think I did convince them that it doesn’t, so that should stop now. If um. If we make you uncomfortable you still don’t have to be touched, it’s, it’s fine.”

Other than the head tilt before, there wasn’t a reply.

“Okay, since. You can’t talk, I’m just gonna… I’ll sit down beside you. On the couch. And if you don’t want me to be that close you can uh- you can leave. Or like, get up, and then I’ll leave. This is the only room with a tv, so I’ll let you stay here, but I can’t tell if you want me to be here or not, so. Okay, sorry, I’m rambling. Just… move if you want me to leave, okay?”

Ranboo waited for a response that didn’t come, then sighed. “Okay.” He kept his hands up and open while sitting down, waiting for a few moments before tucking his feet under himself to get more comfortable. “I’m just gonna stay here, okay? Like I said, just move if you want me to leave.”

The mask had tracked them to where they sat now, but the person—C—didn’t make a move to leave. Ranboo turned their attention to the tv, keeping an eye on their couch partner in their peripheral vision. During a moment of audience laughter in the show—I Love Lucy, they remembered—C turned their head back to the television as they had been before Ranboo walked in.

Seeing as how C (they needed a better name than that—) didn’t speak, this was the closest Ranboo could get to being told “you can stay here.” So they did. A few episodes later, his head was on the arm of the couch and his eyes were closed.

Five turned its attention to the Hero, who was now asleep. He had said it was a person, which was almost hilarious. And the Taken and the Hero seemed to think it couldn’t talk? They had to know it needed to be given permission first: any handler of a Drone or Prop knew that basic rule. It would wait until permission was given: it knew how to obey. It wasn’t meant to speak to a superior unless it was told it was allowed. It would wait.

…in the meantime, it studied its handler, the Hero. The other Actors, their two other handlers, called him ‘Ranboo’ but Five knew that wasn’t his actual label. The Hero was his character in the last show, and so that is who he was. Five didn’t know if Actors had a number, but he had been called the Hero in the script, and so the Hero he will be until the script changes.

It hoped to get new instructions, a new script for itself, something, soon. It was tired of simply watching the Actors go about their incredibly off-script show. It was sometimes told to participate, and since no other superiors were nearby, it had to obey its current handlers. But it was told to participate, to stir eggs, to help clean the kitchen, to attack small webs in corners with a stick with soft spikes on the end. Those sorts of things weren’t it’s usual directive, and so it found itself…

It didn’t resent its handlers. They were doing their best, and they at least knew that they were meant to give it orders. It simply wished they were familiar orders. It wished the Hero had told it to play dead, or play chase, or play camera, or caught, or prop. It would even listen if it was told to power down until needed. At least then it wouldn’t have to be conscious in this boring and unfamiliar set.

.

Y EA I know they probably don’t like tvs. Shhhhhh. I didn’t think about that until like. I had already written the tv part. At this moment it is 55 minutes past th hour and I want these characters to go the fuck to sleep so I can go thr fuck to sleep /lh

And yeah Five only uses “he” for glran. That is intentional. It’ll be talked about and shit later. Something about being put into a role, something about showfall being transphobic, something something I want to go to bed

Powering down = “sleeping” for a drone. Different but similar. I’ll explain how it works later?, anyway The others hav e told Five to “sleep” but it doesn’t understand because it is only ever told to “power down” so it’s like error.sleep_not_found and it stares at them like “bitch you said the wrong. Thing. You’re supposed to know how to control me so you don’t want me to power down I fucking guess” and it’s gonna be really funny after that miscommunication is taken care of.

If you remember the Five Gets A Cold And Wants To Throw Hands With Everyone post, this is wayyy before that. These motherfuckers are fresh out of showfall. Don’t ask how they got a house. I’ll figure it out

I am! Tired! I’m not proofreading this!! Goodnight please give me your thoughts if you have them. I need to know I didn’t sacrifice tbis much sleep in vain /nf /lh (I appreciate words but you are Not required to give them. Love you have a good nigt/p)

[technicallyaminecraftsimp]

This might be the worst essay I’ve ever written in the existence of me. what the fuck was I talking about here

[mycomori]

i am questioning if i even want to catch up w mha now. i knew shit was gonna make me upset i mean i literally stopped reading because of how fucking frustrating it was. but wow four years later and the abuser are still vilified while fucking enji todoroki walks around free. but at least the child soldiers are safe i guess!

[raddishwrites]

Chapter twelve

[glitchfiles]

only 'til dawn. [ljn]

pairing ⋆ badboy!jeno x inexperienced/goodgirl!reader

wordcount ⋆ 2.7k+

warnings ⋆ SMUT MINORS DNI!!!, softdom!jeno, smoking, shotgunning, car sex, big dick jeno, corruption, praise, light degradation, oral (m receiving), cowgirl, spanking (once), light choking, creampie...

note ⋆ i had to leave this one in my drafts for some time first because i didn't want to upload two car sex fics in a row then i wanted to rewrite it then i couldn't be asked to do that fully... so yeah, enjoy :D

"fuck," jeno drawls out as his head lolls to the side, "you're shit at this." he chuckles at your feeble attempt to give him a blowjob.

you look up at him, he seems totally unphased by your attempts to get him off, even going as far as to fish a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of the inner pocket of his leather jacket. the scowl that forms on your brow shows how much it dents your pride; he smirks down at you tauntingly.

"open your mouth a little more." he places a cigarette between his lips and lights the end. "you don't mind if i smoke, right?" you roll your eyes, he could have asked before. at least he had the courtesy to wind the window down.

there was no reason for you to debase yourself like this, the whole situation is beyond demeaning. you’re on your knees in the back of jeno’s car, struggling to please him and now he’s having a smoke mid-head?!

it felt as if your jaw was about to unhinge at any moment, you didn’t know it could stretch this far. the girls in the videos made it look so easy, compared to them, the way you were slobbering all over his girth was far from sexy. not to mention how you were clumsily pumping the rest of his length. not to toot your own horn, but you picked things up easily, this was a whole different ballpark to academic work. 

"you're too big," you whine. your lack of experience definitely didn't have anything to do with the shoddy head you were giving. how he was still hard was a wonder, you’re sure he’s seconds away from going flaccid.

normally, he would have put an end to the whole thing. it's not like he wasn't one text away from a few girls that could suck the soul out of him. however, considering how unsavoury his reputation was, the fact that you, the university’s golden girl, and much-revered student union president, were so eager to please him behind closed doors inflated his ego more than anything else could.

he couldn’t help but find humour in how ardently you refused to acknowledge him in public at times like this; if you spotted him on campus you looked the other way. but the moment he shot you a text, you were swooning and giggling, begging to meet up. so, here you were, in the dead of night, at the back of an empty parking lot a couple of miles away from campus.

“you’re lucky you have a patient teacher, i’m going to turn you into an expert!” jeno directs you between drags of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out of the windows as he laughs at you being unable to get the hang of it. saying you feel frustrated would be an understatement.

"i don't want to do this anymore," you sit up, finally admitting defeat and letting his heavy cock flop down against his abdomen. if jeno were a better person, he would have stopped you a few minutes ago, but you were so eager to please him and he loved the adorable pout on your lips and how your brows furrowed whenever you were exasperated.

"then what do you want to do?" you can think of a few things, but they would be super embarrassing to say. so, you refused to answer. he sighs before slotting his cigarette between his lips, leaving his hands free to pull you onto his lap.

"wanna try?" you don't know what possesses you, but you nod. 

how bad can it be? 

he taps the burnt end off, letting the ashes fall out the window before setting the cigarette between your lips. it feels childish to admit, but the fact that you had shared an indirect kiss makes you smile. this doesn't last long, though; after a short pull, you end up choking.

"god, that's awful!" you squeak as he belly laughs, only stopping when you hit his chest. all he's done tonight is tease you.

"i thought so too when i first tried." he soothes you, so as to not incur any more of your light-handed wrath. "why don't we start with some baby steps?" 

you're unsure what he means until his large, rough hand is placed gently under your jaw and his thumb brushes over your lower lip, "open up for me, angel."

he takes a long drag before tilting his head to the side and filling your mouth with a thick cloud of smoke. you're not sure what this is, but it feels intimate. it feels as if he’s breathing life into you. your whole body warms and tingles, your head spins, and a fire lights in your core.

once his lungs are empty, he seals it with a kiss. it's slow and passionate. his hand slides round to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. maybe it’s the nicotine running through your veins, you feel lightheaded. you let him slip his tongue past your lips to dance around your own.

the sweet flavour of your strawberry lip balm he was used to intermingled with the bitterness of his cigarette. he can't help but groan at the fact you taste a lot more like him now. 

the cigarette he's momentarily forgotten in his hand gets flicked away to burn to a butt somewhere on the tarmac outside. his now free hand comes to rest on your hip. it guides your body forwards, bringing your clothed centre flush against his bare cock.

you mewl into his mouth, he swallows down the sound. he’s greedy for more and starts rocking against you. grinding out then gulping down your noises, they go straight down to his cock. it’s throbbing, you can feel how painfully hard he is underneath you. only when he’s met with an uncomfortable stickiness due to his precum seeping through his shirt does he put an end to his gluttony.

a begrudging whine fills the car as he pulls your lips away from him. the look in his eyes alone was almost enough to make you cream, it was different to the cocky, yet lewd, eye fucking that seemed to be his default. those dark eyes of his turned into endless pits of boundless desire.

warm hands glide under your sweater, tugging it over your head, off your body to let it land somewhere in the front of his car. he does the same with his own shirt, sitting back to let you admire the rippling muscles on his torso. you delicately placed a hand on his chest, sliding it down to his abdomen; it seems he doesn’t have to have his dick in your mouth to have you drooling over him.

“like what you see, baby?” the smug look on his face makes your stomach twist.

“shut up,” you smash your lips against his again before he can speak again. 

jeno rushes to unclasp your bra, pushing the fabric out of his way so he can knead at your breasts; not before long, his mouth leaves you to pepper kisses down your neck then it encloses around one of your pert nipples. 

“mmm, jeno!” you mewl as his tongue laps at the bud, causing your back to arch in search of more stimulation. a hand weaves itself into his inky, thick locks, pushing him to give attention to the other side. “jeno, more!”

“i love hearing you say my name,” he growls against your chest, “wanted to hear you say it all week, but you don’t even spare me a glance unless i have my cock out.” 

you ignore the slight bitterness in his tone focusing on how he nips at your skin, leaving dark marks he hopes will last until he next sees you. marks that he hopes others will see and know you belong to someone; you’ll probably chastise him later over text but he doesn’t care, anything to keep him on your mind like you're always on his. 

reluctantly, he detaches himself from your chest and sits back, eyeing the drying traces of saliva he left with a dazed smile. 

“what next? tell me.” his hands delicately caress your hips, your cheeks begin to heat up and you avoid his eye contact. “don’t act all coy now, where’s the girl that begged me to drive her out here and fuck her dumb?” 

you were still clinging onto the last dregs of your virtuous good girl persona - the last white spots on a canvas he had first found unsullied. your first sin had been naivety, too easily seduced by a good-looking face and the sweet nothings he whispered in your ears but he had been more than happy to lengthen the list.

you wondered if this was how you had always been - or was he corrupting you. he broke down every conception you had of yourself and no one outside of the car you both sat in would believe this was you - you barely did yourself. some would say he was ruining you, but he’d never make you do something you didn’t want to, this was all you.

“please…” you let your head fall onto the crook of his neck, voice barely above a whisper. “want you inside.”

“a smart girl like you can be more descriptive than that.” he strokes a finger down your back, leaving a trail of heat on your spine, in hopes of prompting lewder vocabulary. you take a moment to chew your bottom lip and swallow down the last bit of dignity you had.

“please, fuck me.” you weep against the shell of his ear, “fill my pussy up, i need you so bad, jeno.” 

“sound so pretty when you tell me what you want.” his low-toned praise makes you shiver as he flips your skirt up and raises your hips. he pushes your panties to the side to position his cock at your dripping entrance. taking a second to tease your slit, making sure to brush over your swollen clit, only to hold you still when your hips jerk forward.

“look at me, angel.” you perk up for him, “so beautiful,” he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. his gaze holds yours firmly as he brings you down on his bulbous tip, stretching you out slowly.

you struggle to keep your eyes from shutting. your mouth hangs open letting out hushed gasps as you sink down an inch at a time. he thinks you’re the prettiest creature he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“keep going... yeah, just like that... so good...” his soft gaze, light touch and encouraging words make things easier. he can feel your walls begin to relax and hungrily accept his girth. 

“‘s so fucking big,” you wail out, not even having taken him fully. you couldn’t quite yet without his help, though you’ll get there eventually - he’d make sure of that. 

“i know, baby, but you take me so well. can you move for me?” you nod shyly, lifting yourself and dropping back down as far as you can with a long whine. up and down, you split yourself open over and over. 

jeno’s hands press into your flesh, silently encouraging you to take more of him. you work your hips faster, earning a deep groan from him as his head falls back. instinctively, your mouth attaches itself to his neck, mimicking the way he had kissed and sucked at your own earlier.

“for such a sweet, innocent girl, you sure do ride like a slut.” he breathily laughs as his hand comes down on your ass with a sounding slap. “like the way my cock stretches this tight cunt out.” there’s no hiding the way your walls clench at the sharp sting. you try to find refuge from your embarrassment by hiding your face in his shoulder, but he quickly takes ahold of your throat, forcing you to sit up straight.

“don’t hide from me,” he tells you warningly and squeezes your neck lightly. once again your eyes lock, his stare as intense as ever. your teeth sink into your bottom lip and you rest your hands on his strong chest, adopting a faster pace. 

he lets out moans which you naturally reciprocate, however, you embellish yours with his name; you feel his cock twitch at the sound of it. the look in his eyes turns wild as his fingers dig deeper into the meat of your ass, forming a nearly bruising grip; with the other hand, he’s careful not to cut off airflow but forms a hold that leaves you feeling dizzy. 

“you know exactly what you do to me.” he chuckles, “you were fucking made for me, made for taking my cock, weren’t you? yeah, so perfect, angel.”

your legs begin to shake, his words and his cock are quickly pushing you towards the pinnacle. you try your very best to work through the overwhelming pleasure and the ache in your thighs, wanting to get him off since you failed at sucking his dick. but you can't seem to power through it, tears well in your eyes as everything becomes too overwhelming, it's far too much.

“need help, baby?” his soft spot for you wins, “did such a good job for me. i’ll take care of you, make you cum all over my cock. want that?”

“please, need to cum so bad.” his hand leaves your neck and places itself and your other asscheek. he plants his feet firmly and then rams up into you.

your brain goes blank in an instant. 

he’s deep. so deep. too deep!

you cry out, nails digging into his broad, muscular shoulders to anchor yourself. the tears that had threatened to leave your eyes before stream down your face, staining your cheeks. your whole body quivers as his cock lays kisses on your cervix with each thrust. 

“jeno, oh my god, right there!” you practically scream. his face screws at the feeling of your walls constricting, getting tighter by the second and making it harder to move; he powers through by jackhammering into you with more force. 

it feels like you could break at any moment, he's bouncing you on his cock like you're a ragdoll and you're too weak to do anything but take and enjoy it. all it takes is a few more thrusts before you’re creaming all over him. your body seizes as your eyes roll back, and his name tumbles from your lips incessantly in pleasured sobs. 

it’s hard to keep you in one place as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, but he handles your squirming body with ease using his strength. the most ungodly wet squelches fill the car as he races towards his own release, your sticky mess clings to both of your thighs. 

“shit… pussy’s sucking me in so deep, gonna cum.” his chest rises and falls dramatically, he can barely breathe. his thrusts get choppier as he loses himself to the feral urge to paint your insides pearly white.

a heavy groan rips through him as his balls tighten, he nestles his cock nice and deep as he pours hot spurts of cum into you. he fills you with warmth; you feel complete for a moment. unfortunately, all good things must come to an end eventually. 

you could almost start crying again when he pulls you off of him. his praise on how well you took his cum as it dribbles out of your cunt makes up for it, though. his tongue swipes across his lips as he watches it drip all over his cock, unbothered by the fact half of it is soiling his leather car seats too. 

the sound of your wild breathing is all that fills the car for a moment until his lips find yours one last time. breathlessly kissing you, there is less vigour than before but just as much passion. your heart warms for a moment at the almost bashful smile on his face as he rests his forehead against yours and wipes the tears that still cling to your soft skin.

this feels right, perfect even, but it only takes a few words for him to fuck it all up.

“wanna come over to mine?” jeno regrets his words immediately, the expression on your face sour at the thought of someone spotting you walking into his dorm or one of his loud-mouthed roommates blabbering about you spending the night together.

give jeno a hand and he’ll end up taking the whole arm.

you pull away from him suddenly remembering who you are.

“don’t be ridiculous, you know i can’t even be caught dead with you.” you grimace at the mess between your legs as you reposition your panties; then, you search for the clothing he had strewn around the car.

you don’t even look at him when you demand him to. “just drop me off where you usually do.”

jeno grins even at your cold-hearted rejection. not just anyone could say they had a place between your legs; he’s sure he’ll have a place in your heart too soon enough…

★ thanks for reading! my inbox is open for feedback and requests! :3

© glitchfiles

[moonlight-records]

Rich Boys Don't Have Hearts I LN4 (Pt. II)

pairing: Jock!Lando Norris x Nerd!Reader

summary: Formula Ivy Academy, or FIA for short, is the most renowned private in the world who takes such a select few. Usually those from wealth with status and secrets and so much to lose. Yet, you are selected to join the FIA on a full scholarship. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain scares a lot students, especially their star athlete who will do anything to protect those he cares about. Though, he didn't expect you to have as much of a...bite to you for a little nobody.

warning: jealous!lando. also possessive lando again, ig. bestie!charles, MESSY!FRANCO!!! god it becomes SO messy!!! franco is so smooth too. mention of make out. mention of eating out & fingering (f receiving). um idk after, kinda dying like ferrari's strategy by not having it beta read

fc: none!

a/n: since everyone is asking!!! here’s a new part!!! also once again, i opened a ko-fi! feel free to show extra love 💕

wc: 4.5K

part 1 | current

“Has Lando’s attitude gotten any better since last week?”

“No.”

“Ha! Well, surely he’s been a bit better at practices, no?”

“That, he has. I think it’s because Max snapped at him and the coach backed Max up. Though he still gives me dirty glares during practice when he’s not speaking to me.” Charles shrugs, “though I am unbothered. I wasn’t the one who tried to bribe someone out of this school for people who don’t actually truly like me. Still baffles me that he did that considering how half the school talks poorly about him behind his back. Some are not as subtle as others.”

“Well, everyone has their reasons. Maybe he was more so worried about his friends. Max, Oscar, you—”

“I don't know if I would qualify as a friend anymore.”

“I would consider you a friend if I was Lando,” you admit with a small smile, “friends fight. That’s just the nature of any relationship, romantic or not. I bet he’ll let it go and muster up some apology for being such a dick to you.”

“And you.”

You let out a bitter laugh, “Lando apologize to me? My dear friend, are you sure you don’t smoke anything? Because that sounds like straight delusion. Did you find the delusion at the store? If so, did you get extra because I would love some.” You remark.

“Y/N. I’m serious here.”

“So am I, Charlie. Lando is never going to apologize to me for the shit he tried to pull on me last week.” You lean forward in your seat while making a face at the thought of Lando actually apologizing to you, “Him apologizing means that he was wrong and him admitting that he’s wrong is like hell freezing over or God admitting he was wrong to cast Lucifer out of heaven or like a guy actually knowing where the clit is or—”

“Y/N!” Charles almost shrieks before shuffling closer and murmuring, “you cannot just say things like that! You know how they are about language—”

“Oh bite me.” You groan softly while looking at Charles unimpressed, “The FIA only made that rule because Max was stupid enough to curse at his advisor. Though Marko totally deserved it, if you ask me. Besides.” You take a chance to look on either side of you before looking back at Charles, “we’re the only two here so I doubt anybody heard me. If they did, I think a lot of the girls would be agreeing with my statement and if it was faculty, I will happily take my community service hours because I am not apologizing for telling the truth.” You lean back in your seat with a shrug.

You watch Charles open and close his mouth as he tries to think of something to say and him growing increasingly frustrated because he really had nothing to say besides ‘you’re right, y/n’. You giggle seeing Charles huff and lean back in his chair, grumbling that “ you have some fair points.” You just nod before looking back down at all your notebook. You take a moment before tipping your laptop screen back as you go back to rewriting your notes as silence falls over you and Charles.

“I’ll be right back.” You tear your gaze away from your laptop looking at Charles who is gently pushing his books and laptop back onto the table. “I promised Arthur I would help him with piano and I have to meet him in ten minutes. I’ll be back soon,” Charles is rapidly telling you as he grabs his coat, hastily walking away. You stare, mouth a bit open before just accepting your fate and turning back around. Whatever, it’s fine.

You start finding your groove again as you see just a flash of color across from you. Still, you didn’t even acknowledge the other as you continued to take these notes down. You take a few more minutes to get through the section and let out a sigh of relief. That was one out of four, anyway. Leaning back, you rub your eyes and decide you can take a five minute break. Dropping your hands, you expect to see Charles sitting across from you once again. Instead, someone else sat in Charles' seat.

The universe just loves to test your patience. It has barely been a week since the incident with Lando that you had swore you were done. No more curly hair, greenish eyes, stupid contagious smile, friendly heartthrobs in your life. It was so oddly specific that you were certain the universe would listen but instead the universe decided to test you if you were really done since you now have curly hair, hazel green eyes, stupidly friendly and contagious smile sitting right across from you who was watching you with a gentle smile.

“Franco?”

“Y/N. There you are.” Franco leans forward and puts his elbows on the table, “Leave it to you to find the coolest hidden spot in the library.” He leans over to look at your laptop and then sits back down. “Are you rewriting notes? Gross. I am very sure you have an uh…” he pauses, “photographic memory. That is the word. You already know the things, please put the notes down and have social interactions?”

“Oh why thank you for thinking I have a photographic memory but I do in fact study a lot.” You giggle and feel a blush creep onto your face at the compliment. “I am having social interaction. Am I not talking to you?” You raise a brow at him smiling. “I can talk to you while rewriting my notes, you know.”

“Yes but I do not want you to do that but that means I only have half your attention,” Franco complains as he gently closes your laptop screen shut and grabs your hands. You look at Franco and feel your face turn as red as the school’s hoodie while looking at the other, “and that just will not do.” Franco brings your hand to cup his cheek while looking at you, “you’re always taking notes and talking. I want one hundred percent of your time. Just this once, please?”

You were not the universe’s strongest warrior. The way that Franco looked at you with those wide eyes and small pout. You had found yourself letting your resolve melt quickly as you gently shut your laptop, elbow on the table while resting your cheek against your palm. “Yeah,” you find yourself saying while smiling dreamily at your fellow classmate, “I can do that.”

“Wonderful!” Franco praises as he leans back slightly. “Now, where were we last time we talked?” Franco thinks trying to recall, “I think we were talking about Hamilton—”

“And Toto,” you add on with a grin.

“Right, right,” Franco nods while glancing around before leaning in slightly. “I’m going fucking insane. They have Hamilton coming in as the guest designer for the fashion students this year and they moved the fashion kids into the arts building after that fire. Which means,” Franco grumbles, “I have the fortunate bad luck of seeing Lewis four times a week almost all day.”

“Why is that bad? He’s like your biggest celebrity crush.”

“That’s the thing!” Franco hisses, “He’s a celebrity crush. A crush that was never to see my existence or anything. Now instead of kilometers separating us, it’s just one floor! You think a man that is perfect should be looking at someone like me?” Franco looks at you, horrified, “Y/N. Please. I’ve never been so stressed over my looks before going to class. I don’t know how much longer my fragile heart can take seeing Lewis in all his glorious outfits with all those lovely rings…and tattoos…and stay sane.” Franco drops his head in defeat before looking back up at you. “Well, what about you? How’s your celebrity crush on Toto?”

You sigh and look away defeated. “Sadly, he is no longer a celebrity crush. He’s…” You cover your mouth as you take a moment. You close your eyes before taking a deep breath in and out. “Toto Wolff is…off the roster,” you whisper dramatically while looking at Franco. Franco gasps loudly, covering his mouth.

“What?! Say it ain’t so! Toto Wolff has been on the roster since the day we created the rosters,” Franco stares in disbelief, “What happened? What did he do that was so…dirty that you had to take him off the roster completely.

You stare at Franco before looking away, shaking your head slightly. “He did the one thing that I was terrified of. The only thing that would have me kick a man such as Toto Wolff off the damn roster…he became a full time professor here.” You finally admit, covering your mouth again in disbelief that your worst nightmare came true. You hear Franco gasp again and you nod, “I know. It’s such a sad day. We lost one of our strongest.”

“Here lies Toto Wolff. That man saw the rise of your beautifully curated roster. A moment of silence for our beloved.” Franco whispers as he sits there with you. You two glance at each other and you two break out into laughter. You both lean in, giggling while trying to hush the other so you two don’t get in trouble for being so loud. “Though seriously, he became a full time professor here? Good for him but that truly is a shame. We got new eye candy but at what cost?”

“I know! But hey, at least his teaching style is unique so at least I am very engaged which is really a good thing plus him looking as hot as he does since he’s a psychopath. Who the hell has classes at eight in the morning? I can’t even be happy that it’s once a week because it’s a three hour class that starts promptly at eight in the morning on Monday. Maybe it is a good thing Toto became a professor because this is too much.”

Franco’s been laughing silently the entire time, silently getting more dramatic as you spoke so he wouldn’t scream in the middle of the library. You watch him for a moment before laughing as well, grabbing onto his arms as the two of you laugh.

You two calm down and lean back as someone clears their throat. The two of you look up and your face falls to horror when cold stormy green eyes land on you. You shift uncomfortably as you become defensive. Shoulder a bit further back. Back a bit straighter. Chin a bit higher. You force a smile at the British student while trying to explode him with your mind.

“Y/N.” Lando remarks while looking down at you with pure raging dislike, “Funny seeing you here.”

“I could say the same for you.”

“Ha.” Lando looks at Franco and relaxes slightly. “Dude. Come on. I’ve been looking for you for the past ten minutes, we have to grab Oscar before meeting up with Max and Carlos soon. I really don’t need Carlos getting on me for being late.”

“Oh sorry. I just got so distracted.” Franco tells Lando and stands.

“What were you even doing? Speaking to Y/N?” You glare at Lando. Franco is way too sweet to be dragged into your bullshit with Lando before looking back at Franco. It seems that the Brit has a soft spot for your fellow freshman or something because Lando clears his throat before he keeps speaking, “I didn’t realize you two knew each other. Didn’t mean to sound so rude…sorry.”

Holy shit. Did hell finally freeze over? Maybe it’s pigs flying. Or he’s finally getting laid. It really doesn’t matter the reason why right now because you were still in disbelief that Lando apologized. You never thought you’d live to see the day where Lando apologized in general but apologizing because of the rude tone he had when speaking about you? Did you end up in the Twilight Zone? No no this must be a joke. Okay, cut the cameras. Seriously the cameras can STOP rolling.

“Oh of course I know Y/N! We’re in the same graduating class and we have a few gen eds together. It’s just hard given our schedules but,” Franco grins, “We make it work. Though! Before I leave I actually want to know if you’d be interested in grabbing lunch with me tomorrow” Franco announces as he looks at you, smiling, “could be a date if you want?”

Suddenly the world just freezes and you’re stuck at the library table staring in complete shock at the turn of the events. You hadn’t even told Franco about Lando, not having the heart for his poor heart to be crushed by how Lando could be so nasty. Still, you’re trying to figure out how the hell this conversation got onto the topic of Franco asking you out on a date.

In the heat of the moment, you can’t help but turn to look at Lando as if he heard Franco correctly. Maybe you’ve just fallen asleep and this is some weird dream or something. You come to the shocking yet unsuspecting realization that this is not a dream when Lando meets your gaze having the same idea. You both look back at Franco in a state of shock and confusion. “A date?” You and Lando ask in union.

“Yes.” Franco laughs and smiles widely at you and Lando before looking back at you, “well? Would you like to get lunch with me? As a date?”

“Yes.” You smile while nodding, “I would love to get lunch with you as a date.”

You stare at Franco with a stupid smile. You hadn’t expected this was how your evening would go but you were more than happy about it. You were so happy, that Lando’s look of shock turned to disgust didn’t even phase you. Finally, you’re crashing back to reality when Lando annoyingly clears his throat while looking down at the two of you. “Well, lovebirds,” Lando forces a smile but you can feel the burn his venomous words carry, “sorry to cut the moment short but we really have to leave now, Franco.” Lando manages through gritted teeth.

“Right! Sorry again.” Franco gathers his things and looks at you, “I’ll text you later. Bye Y/N,” Franco waves before Lando sends him off, telling him he’ll be right out.

You watch Franco go off and sigh dreamily. You glance away for a moment before doing a double take. Your smile morphs into a scowl while looking at Lando who—hasn’t moved yet. Looking him up and down, you raise a brow. “Can I help you?”

“Why did you say yes to Franco?”

“You really think you’re entitled to that after the shit you pulled last week?” You raise a brow while clicking your tongue, “besides. Why do you even care?”

“Because Franco’s a freshman and I don’t need him distracted,” Lando snaps and you roll your eyes. Here he goes again about distractions and shit. Lando glances away and huffs. “Also because he’s a bit of a player.”

“Takes one to know one, yeah?”

Lando glares at you and sneers slightly. “So what? I wouldn’t want him wasting any of his time on you.”

“Why?”

“You’d probably bore him to death.” Looking down at you as Lando gives it a beat. “Also I doubt you’d know how to get him off for your first time. Hell, I don’t think you’d know how to get anybody off. Not even yourself.” Giving you a condescending smile, “I would hate for him to be a part of your body count.”

“Oh.” You laugh slightly, “That’s adorable. Well. You know what? I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

Lando’s a bit taken aback. “I—what?”

“You know. I’ve been doing some thinking. I think we didn’t quite see eye-to-eye.” You continue as you pack your things. “Which isn’t really fair because you were truly just looking out for your friends. Like you’re doing right now.” Standing straight, “which I just wanna say is the sweetest thing ever so. I want to thank you and I’ve figured out the best way to do that.”

“…Which is…?” Lando leans in slightly, waiting for your answer.

“Which is…letting you know in great detail not only how good Franco’s gonna fuck me this weekend but you’ll also have to listen how Franco’s not going to want anybody else when I’m done with him.” You feign innocence to Lando as you sling your backpack over your shoulders before walking away.

“Now, don’t you move a single muscle,” Franco kisses your forehead with a smile “You just focus on resting and I’ll handle everything for dinner tonight, okay?”

“Uh huh.”

“Good girl.” Franco winks before leaving your dorm. 

You lay in your bed staring where Franco had just left before rolling over, grunting as your legs failed to work with you. Fumbling around the messy sheets and pillows till you find your phone and immediately open the texts messages because you had to tell someone about the date you just had:

A MINX. HE’S A MINX I TELL YOU. - YN

WHO? WHAT? THE FUCK IS HAPPENING??? - CL

FRANCO. FRANCO IS NOTHING MORE THAN A MINX!!!!-YN

??????-CL

So Franco asked me out on a date for lunch today—YN

HE WHAT?! WHEN?-YN

Yesterday after you disappeared. He showed up and Lando came looking for him.-YN

LANDO? WHAT? Oh my god was he nasty to you? I’ll hurt him istg-CL

No. No he was…civil. Or civilish while Franco was around. But anyway, yeah Lando was asking like why Franco was talking to me cause we don’t really talk and like they had to go to Max’s place and Franco was like “oh we’re in the same graduating class” and stuff but before he left he was like “oh do you wanna get lunch with me tomorrow as a date?'“-YN

And I was gagged! I thought it heard it wrong so I looked at Lando who was LOOKING AT ME THE SAME WAY so we realize oh this is real. This is happening and Franco wants to grab lunch with me like a date. So I say yes, obviously.-YN

IN FRONT OF LANDO!?-CL

Yeah cause fuck him!!! If my happiness is his kryptonite to having a good day, then so fucking be it. But wait!! There’s more!-YN

TELL ME! TELL ME!-CL

So Lando hangs behind and Franco leaves. Then Lando looks at me all like “why’d you say yes?” Bitch what do you mean???-YN

Oh my god, he did not!!-CL

He totally did!!!-YN

Ew. Why does it have a jealous undertone?? possessiveness???-CL

It’s giving ‘you belong to me’ or like ‘nobody else can have you because I want you’ like some dark romance MMC. This is not a bully romance with a mafia subplot or some shit!!-YN

PREACH 👏👏👏. So what happened after?!-CL

Oh so I was like “i’m not telling you after the shit you pulled last week” and asking why he cares and he’s going on about how Franco’s a freshman and he can’t get distracted and how he’s a bit of a player, which he isn’t he’s just kind of a himbo, and I was like “oh takes one to know one, yeah?”-YN

YOU DID NOT. SHUT UP OH Y/N I LOVE YOU SO MUCH-CL

I did and that pissed Lando off. He starts going on about how I don’t know how to get anybody off and I’d bore Franco to death and how he would never want Franco a part of my body count. First off I got three bodies and I have pleased all three, thank you very much but also like fuck Lando!! His opinion? Doesn’t matter!! So I started bout how ‘oh we got off on the wrong foot’ and ‘you’re right’ to throw him for a loop before I told him I wanted to ‘thank him’ for ‘opening my eyes’ and his thank you is listening, in great detail, to Franco fuck me this entire weekend and then listening to Franco wanting nobody else 💋-YN

YNNNN!!! OH MY GOOOOOD I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!! Ugh yes that’s some queen shit. Though how does that tie into Franco being a minx??-CL

BECAUSE. It’s Friday. He has no classes. Mine got canceled so I decided, oh why don’t we stay in today, right? soooo like, we go to the cafe, i get food (that Franco paid for) cause he’s not hungry right now which is whatever, and then we head back to my dorm. We’re watching tv, we’re talking, and I finish eating. It’s great, right??-YN

Yes, correct.-CL

So as I’m talking, I start talking about Lando. Franco’s apologizing, I’m telling him he shouldn’t be apologizing. He’s asking if he should stop hanging out with Lando and you know me. I’m not gonna police people on their friends so I told him no. As long as he holds Lando accountable, then I don’t care. If Franco wants to drop Lando that’s his own doing.-YN

Anyway, we keep talking and laughing. We’re getting closer. And then…you know-YN

…What happened? 👀👀-CL

We start kissing. Then it turns into a lazy makeout. Hands start wandering, nothing real scandalous ya know?-YN

Uh huh…-CL

Then this mf pulls away and is like “Oh, I’m real hungry”-YN

FRANCO!!! WTFF!!!!-CL

OH WAIT!! Cause that’s what I thought. I was like “Oh really? Like now? I mean I guess we can go back to the cafe.” Meanwhile he’s actively getting off the bed. Then Franco pulls me by my ankles to the edge of the bed. so i'm thinking he’s really hungry so I go to sit up and he pushes me back down talking bout some “where’re you going mami?”-YN

SIR?? EXCUSE ME??? I can hear the accent now, oh my god that’s—wow-CL

OH BUT WAIT. THERE’S MORE!!!-YN

So first, don’t be calling me mami unless you plan on making me an actual mom. Second, I’m looking at him confused like “you said you were hungry” and he’s like “yeah?” and I was like “Oh I’m sorry, I just thought you’d want me to join you going to the cafe to get lunch” and he’s looking at me like I got ten heads before going like “the cafe? Why would we go to the cafe?” He’s actively like leaning over me while holding my thighs and slowly pushing them opening talking bout “I don’t need the cafe when I got a full five meal course right here sprawled out in front of me.”-YN

FRANCO!?! OH MY GOD—I have to fan myself. Wow that was—🥵🥵🥵🥵-CL

RIGHT?!?!-YN

WELL??-CL

…Charles when I tell you. I do not believe in god but I am pretty sure I was knocking on his door. Two hours. I was seeing god for TWO HOURS!!! Charles when I tell you that man had me screaming crying throwing up I MEAN IT. Charles, I'm still in bed. My legs are still shaking. I can’t feel them.-YN

What I wouldn’t give to be sucked off like that—CL

But wait. There’s a cherry on top of all of this.-YN

WHAT COULD TOP THIS?-CL

Franco really had to make sure everyone knew what was happening. I mean, he’s on his knee with my hips hanging off. He’s got one hand gripping my ass like it’s his lifeline to this world. He’s between my thighs and eating me out like he is a man up next on death row and I am his final fucking meal. He pushed all the pillows away. Got my wrists pinned to my stomach with his other hand. I am solely at his mercy and I cannot keep quiet for the life of me and he ate it up. I was so loud, I heard banging from upstairs.-YN

Banging?-CL

Yeah. Like someone was hitting a broom against the floor. To signal to shut up, which Franco and I ignored. More Franco than me, I couldn’t see straight and that was an hour in. Do you know, what the banging was though???-YN

A disgruntled upstairs neighbor???-CL

Yeah. Do you remember who my upstairs neighbor is?-YN

…OH MY FUCKING GOD, LANDO LISTENED TO YOU GETTING THE BEST HEAD OF YOUR LIFE?-CL

Yes SIIIIIIIIRRRRRR. Dude Lando got so mad he CALLED Franco in the middle of it and he answered.-YN

HE ANSWERED?!-CL

Yes. He answered. Pulls back enough to start fingering me and hands be a pillow telling me to bite down on it which I do without a second fucking thought. But tell me why Franco put Lando on speaker and Lando asking “what are you doing right now??” and Franco looks me dead in the fucking eyes going on bout “Oh I’m just having lunch right now with Y/N.” and Lando’s like “oh yeah? Is that so? Then why the fuck is she screaming so god damn loud? Huh? Thought it was a lunch date?” and Charles. I shit you the fuck NOT, Franco without missing a beat goes, “It is. She’s my lunch and my mother always told me to finish everything on my plate and I plan to do just that.” THEN HUNG UP THE PHONE AND WENT RIGHT BACK TO EATING ME OUT.-YN

Y/N…you are the luckiest bitch around. Holy fucking shit. I need a man like Franco—do we know if Franco swings both ways??-CL

He does. Though you might not like him. He’s got a huge crush on Lewis—YN

Never mind. You keep Franco. Gives me an easier chance to steal Lewis' heart. Or just get one chance with him.-CL

I think you can do it. I believe. Anyway, yeah so that happened and—YN

You accidentally send your message to Charles early when a new text comes through. It’s by an unknown number and you click on it.

Lacrosse field. 8pm. We need to talk.-Unk

You think for a moment trying to figure out who this could be. No names come to your mind so you think that someone texted the wrong number. Typically, you’d leave unknown numbers alone but you got the impression that this was something important and urgent that you respond.

Oh I’m sorry, you have the wrong number-YN

I don’t-Unk

Excuse me?-YN

You look up hearing the familiar broom hitting against the floor. You scowl at Lando and his antics before looking back at your phone. Huh. That was…too coincidental. You lay there for a moment before the banging came again, this time a bit more urgent. You send your message before realizing it.

Lando?-YN

The banging stops. Suddenly, your dorm is eerily quiet and you hold your breath. You watch the familiar three bubbles appear and disappear before appearing again as your heart sinks.

Bingo. 8pm. Tonight. Lacrosse field. Alone.-LN

tag list: @dripostsstuff, @tinyhrry, @formulaho, @green--beanie, @brekkers-whore.

@fat-meh, @landossainz, @jaydensluv, @carpediem241108, @rayaharper,

@bookishnerd1132, @asmoothoperator, @loloekie, @kawaiifurychaos

@st0rmzi3, @tygecjjd, @eclipsedcherry, @linnygirl09, @ln4-cl16-world

@poppymelonz, @katiascraft, @fangirl125reader, @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs, @norrisleclercf1

[6esiree]

Getting Dared to Call Them Daddy Pt. 2

Summary: You get dared to call Vox and Adam daddy.

Warnings: Swearing, slightly NSFW, angst, canon death. Beware of Adam’s part. Idk how I wrote all that out of a game of truth of dare, but I did and I don’t feel like rewriting it </3. Anywho, MINORS DO NOT READ!!!

Vox:

You had a life outside of the Hazbin Hotel, working at the entertainment district in Pentagram City. The casino you were employed by wasn’t exclusive, per se, but it might as well have been as it was a hot spot for overlords and other high-profile individuals. That’s how you became acquainted with the Vees, even though your shifts didn’t coincide with their visits half of the time. Tonight was an exception, however, and Velvette was in a particularly good mood.

Well, it actually took a few cocktails to get her there, but you weren’t complaining. She took a seat at the bar and mindlessly scrolled on her phone, only opening up when the alcohol settled in—nothing unusual. You were mentally prepared to have her talk your ear off about shit you couldn’t care less about, but she proceeded to surprise you by asking if you’d like to play a game.

Truth or Dare, Velvette suggested, leaving you wondering if you’d heard her correctly. It was easy to forget that everyone in this damned afterlife was normal to some extent, even an overlord like her. When she quirked a brow at you, motioning ‘Well?’ with her hand, you shrugged and said yes, never anticipating that she’d take the game further than most people did.

Velvette asked you to go first, so you did, glad that she settled for truth. You sucked at this game, and the last thing you wanted to do was frustrate her as you pondered endlessly over a dare. Anyway, as you whipped up an old-fashioned cocktail for a patron, you hummed, asking her to tell you something interesting about Vox. The man was a mystery to you, only ever uttering pleasentries instead of engaging in an actual conversation with you.

Velvette sipped at her drink, rubbing her chin in contemplation before shrugging and ultimately telling you that he wasn’t who he appeared to be on the surface. Vox was charismatic, yeah, but he was also weak. Blinking, you slid the cocktail to the patron, taking your money and shooing them away. Everyone knew that Vox valued his image, Velvette continued, and that he’d do anything to preserve the persona he had meticulously crafted since he manifested in Hell, but there were some things that were simply out of his control.

“What? Look, I’m not trying to call you a liar, but that’s kinda hard to believe,” You responded honestly, “What do you mean, ‘Out of his control’?”

“Trust me, he’s absolutely pathetic,” Velvette said, leaning over the counter to whisper to you, “Regarding the rest, you can find out yourself—that’s if you aren’t a pussycat, of course.”

You peered down at Velvette, knowing damn well that if you chose truth, she’d never let you live it down. Her fingers tapped expectantly against the counter, waiting for your response as you bided your time by cleaning the dirty glasses you had neglected earlier. Truthfully, you were afraid of what she’d make you do, but you eventually sighed and muttered dare.

“I knew you had it in you!” Velvette praised you before adding the next part. “Go and call him daddy, I dare you. You’ll see how he’ll crumble like that,” She snapped her fingers, “When a babe like you calls him daddy.”

You dropped your head and carded your hand through your hair, immediately regretting your decision. How the Hell would you get around to calling one of the most influential and powerful overlords daddy, exactly? As you raised your head to look at Velvette, you hoped that she had your back if he reacted poorly.

“What if he—“ You started, but then you were interrupted by one of your coworkers.

Velvette sat back down, annoyed, but also too drunk to complain. Anyway, they asked you to whip up some cocktails for the other two Vees, practically begging you to deliver it to them, too. When you quirked a brow at them, asking them why you should do their job as a waiter, they started to ramble on about how they had accidentally pissed off Valentino. Ah, fuck. Not like you’d say no anyway, especially considering what Velvette dared you to do.

Instead of giving them a verbal response, you waved your hand in dismissal, letting your coworker know that you had them covered. They thanked you profusely before scurrying off to tend to another table nearby, leaving you scowling as you got to work. Velvette watched you work your magic, assuring you that everything would be ‘Fiiineee,’ giggling when you rolled your eyes.

“Look, if I’m wrong—which I’m not—I got you covered,” Velvette added, watching you step out from your post behind the bar, drinks in hand. “Oh, wow! I’ve never seen the other half of you,” She gasped, but you ignored her.

You were so fucked—that’s the only thought that circulated your mind as you leisurely made your way to the VIP section. The bouncer at the entrance, a friend of yours, regarded you with curiosity when you stopped in front of him. ‘What’re you doing here?’ He inquired as he stepped aside to allow you access into the area, but you told him that you’d tell him later, feeling slightly anxious upon spotting Vox and Valentino.

The two overlords were lounging around on opposite ends of their booth, Valentino characteristically flocked by attractive sinners as pink smoke wafted around them, while Vox sat entirely alone, an annoyed look on his face as one claw tapped incessantly at the empty glass in his hand. As you approached them, you made sure to straighten your back and put on a friendly face.

“Hey! Uh, I got a Sazerac and a Lemon Drop here—whose is what?” You announced, holding out the drinks as you tried not to dissolve under everyone’s stares.

“Ah, I didn’t know you waited!” Valentino tilted his head, practically undressing you with his eyes, “The Lemon Drop es mío, cariño.”

Typical Valentino, but you couldn’t be bothered to feel uncomfortable by him. Unfortunately, you got used to his advances, the only one who could instill some semblance of uneasiness within you being Vox. He interacted with you the least out of the Vees, after all, but you never bothered wondering why until now.

“Apparently someone pissed you off?” You said, huffing as he enveloped your hand in his while handing him his cocktail.

“Don’t even remind me,” Valentino scoffed theatrically, “This establishment is full of idiotas—aside from you, of course. Say, you should wait for us from now on.”

Goosebumps littered your skin as you turned around to hand Vox his drink, realizing that he had been watching you the entire time, his eyes unashamedly following your every move. He didn’t shy away when you met his stare, either, which made you doubt Velvette’s words even more. Fucking Hell, why did you agree to play such a stupid game?

“Well, you’d have to talk to my boss about that, you know,” You continued the conversation, trying to quell the anxiety in your stomach. “The last thing anyone wants to do is pay someone two salaries.”

“Oh, cariño, I can easily arrange that,” Valentino chuckled, taking a sip from his cocktail, “Mm, yeah. I’ll definitely be talking to your boss tonight.”

And that was the end of your conversation with the moth, especially as his attention was stolen by one of the sinner’s next to him. Now that you had to face Vox, you never wanted to cease to exist more than ever. In fact, you hoped the next extermination would take you if things went wrong as you handed the man his Sazerac, his signature smile consuming most of his screen as he accepted it.

“Is everything alright with you?” Vox asked as his claws brushed against your knuckles, savoring the way you jumped at his touch, “You seem nervous, sweetheart.”

Your face flushed in embarrassment, watching how he took a sip from his drink. You would have recovered quickly if he hadn’t thrown a pet name at you, the way he uttered sweetheart with that voice of his making you feel slightly pathetic. But you had to get over yourself, especially because you could feel Velvette watching you from afar, waiting for you to do something.

“Me? Oh, I’m fine!” You said, shaking your head with a smile. “What about you?”

Vox blinked, confused. It was now or never, you guessed, taking a seat on his thigh and draping your legs over him. His body tensed underneath you, never anticipating that you’d do something so bold, but he didn’t push you off.

“Uh, why wouldn’t I be alright?” Vox asked after a few seconds had passed by.

When he didn’t protest to you being on his lap, you placed your hand on his chest, but it was mostly just to steady yourself. However, you couldn’t help but notice how solid he felt under your palm.

“I don’t know—you look sort of pissed off, I guess?” You said, feeling how he tried to steady the rise and fall of his chest, the act fruitless as his heart rate gave him away. “Velvette’s at the bar, Val is…being Val, and you? Well,” You gestured to the free space around him, “Do I even have to say anything?”

Vox rolled his eyes, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he slithered one of his arms around your waist, holding you against him as he leaned forward to place his drink on the table in the center of the booth. A gasp escaped your throat—you couldn’t remember the last time someone held you against them like this. He was making it challenging to maintain your composure, especially as his hold remained on you as he sunk back into his seat.

“Look, I’m usually here outside of my own volition, alright?” Vox finally said, his free hand moving along with his mouth.

You hummed, making sure that he heard you. His response was total bullshit, you thought. There was nobody paying enough attention to him to ensure that he stayed.

“How? You can come and go as you please.” You said, speaking without thinking, “Everyone is too busy doing their own thing to even care that you’re still here.”

Vox’s eyes widened as you said that, and for a moment, you feared that you had overstepped. You were never so openly blunt, not even with Velvette, and you got along with her quite decently. On the other hand, this was your first real interaction with the man, so you dearly hoped you hadn’t upset him.

“I—shit—I’m sorry,” You quickly said, “I didn’t mean to overstep, it’s just—“

“Oh, sweetheart, if I’m upset, it’s only because you’re correct,” Vox interrupted you, his eyes relaxing as he gazed at you. “Now, it’s my turn to give you a hard pill to swallow—how can you apologize for being so blunt when you sat on my lap without my permission?”

You paled at his question.

“Hey, I asked you something first,” You quickly countered, which made Vox chuckle.

“You know, I’m starting to believe that we’re both here for the same reason,” Vox said, his free hand settling on your knee. “What do you think?”

If you had understood what Vox was implying, he was here for you. He tagged along with Velvette and Valentino to admire you from afar, and that baffled you, especially as he always appeared so confident, so eager to get what he wanted. Maybe that’s what Velvette meant when she told you that Vox wasn’t who he appeared to be on the surface, however, you still had yet to figure out how that made him weak.

Anyway, while Vox was correct, it was only to a certain extent. You had never thought about the man in any other way besides superficially, only sticking around him because of what Velvette dared you to do; but now that Vox had you in his embrace, his claws flexing against your hipbone, you decided that he was starting to grow on you.

“Hm, I don’t want to give you the satisfaction of admitting that you’re right,” You replied slyly, leaning in so you were chest to chest with him.

Vox stared at you with a large, toothy grin, pleased by your words. As you peered down at him, all you could think about was how perfect of an opportunity this was to turn the tables on him.

“But you’re correct…daddy,” You whispered, reaching up to trail your finger across his screen.

As soon as you called him daddy, you felt Vox’s screen warm up under your touch—so that’s what made him weak, you thought as you observed the way his face fell at such a simple word. Truthfully, it was satisfying to witness such a powerful man dissolve underneath you, but the feeling was short-lived. You blinked, noticing the way Vox sat insanely still. You snapped your fingers in front of him to see if he would respond, but he didn’t. Ah, fuck.

“Uh, Vox?” You said, narrowing your eyes at him, “Hi? Hey? Helloooo? Vox!”

Again, he didn’t respond. But you only started to grow concerned when the rest of his body began to warm up. Vox had a TV for a head, so maybe you had caused him to overheat? Your suspicions were confirmed when his screen suddenly turned blue, the phrase, ‘A problem has been detected and Vox has been shut down to prevent damage to his systems,’ on his screen, ‘The problem seems to be caused by the following file: Daddy.exe.’ Nothing could have prepared you for the way his length poked your leg, though.

And to make matters worse, the power went out. Great. Fucking great. Vox was hard and also temporarily out of order. At least Velvette was having fun, you thought as she howled in the background, somehow drowning out everyone else as they complained. You sighed, realizing that you couldn’t just get up off of his lap, not when you were shielding whatever dignity he had left.

So, you swiped the hat off of his head and fanned him to cool him down, even though your efforts were hardly making a difference. Meanwhile, you could hear your boss yelling in the background, ‘What the fuck happened to the power!?’ spotting her using the flashlight from the other end of the casino.

“The fuck is going on?” Valentino asked, standing up as he illuminated the area around you with his phone. “Vox, what the fuck? What’s wrong with you?”

“One moment he was normal,” You said, still trying to cool him down, “And the next he blue screened.”

Valentino took a long drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke over his shoulder before leaning down to look at Vox. You’d heard through the grapevine that his vision was shit, and it was apparent in the way he took his time reading one simple sentence with narrowed eyes.

“The…problem…seems…to be…caused…by the…following…file…Daddy.exe,” Valentino slowly read aloud. 

You tried not to shrink under his gaze as he turned his attention to you.

“Well?” Valentino asked, quirking a brow at you as the power suddenly returned. 

“I didn’t know he’d…do all that when I called him daddy,” You muttered, hoping you hadn’t pissed off the moth. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have done it—I swear.”

Instead, Valentino tossed his head back, a hand on his chest as he laughed. “I can’t be mad at una cosita linda like you,” He said, petting your head.

Thank God, you mentally sighed.

Suddenly, you heard a ‘zzt!’ your head snapping to Vox. As his body jolted upwards and his face replaced the blue screen, you stilled your ministrations. Blinking, he looked at you with an undecipherable expression, seemingly recalling what happened. You quickly put his hat back on his head, opening your mouth to apologize; but then Velvette ran up to the booth, showing all of you how she got everything on video.

If you weren’t fucked before, you certainly were now, the way Vox turned to you and grabbed your jaw after she left communicating that. “As soon as your shift is over, you’re leaving with me,” He said, leaving no room for you to refuse. “Understood, sweetheart?” You nodded your head obediently, unaware of how he was going to destroy your insides later that night, forcing you to chant the word daddy as he did so.

Adam:

Ah, Adam. The first man alive. You had the displeasure of meeting him your first Extermination Day, and God, was he full of himself. It was satisfying dodging and escaping him, hearing how he cried out in disappointment when you sought refuge in the darkest crevices of Hell’s infrastructure. “Yeah, run away you fucking coward!” You heard his voice bounce off the brick walls, your hand over your mouth as you stifled your laughter. What a loser.

You continued to fuck around with Adam, though, taking advantage of his reckless fighting style. He hated how slinky you were, the way you effortlessly slipped away from his grasp when he thought he finally had you frustrating him. By the third extermination, you started to tease him, relishing in his poorly disguised groans—a meager ‘Fuck you’—as you brushed against him or touched his wings.

Adam could have killed you a long time ago, the first time you escaped his clutches being sheer luck; but he kept searching for you, locating you with ease despite the fact that you never lingered in one specific area. You were well aware of this, so when you, Angel Dust, and Cherri Bomb were drunkenly playing Truth or Dare the night before the Exorcists attacked the Hazbin Hotel, you let them in on your history with Adam.

Big mistake on your part, especially as Angel took advantage of this information to dare you to do something insanely stupid. “Dare ya to call him daddy,” he slurred, Cherri smacking her chest as she choked on her beer. “Are you trying to get them killed?” She asked between coughs. Your friendship with her was relatively new, but she liked you too much to see you go so quickly.

“Let’s see if you’ll remember tomorrow,” You rolled your eyes, but Angel was adamant that he would. “Hey, maybe we might be able to take him down if ya distract him.”

Angel didn’t forget, and for the first time since you arrived in Hell, you were afraid of what might happen. You couldn’t care less about the dare—the people you grew to love and care for were being directly targeted, and you didn’t want to lose them. If anything, the idea of calling Adam daddy only served to spur you on, even if it would ensure your death. 

You stood alongside everybody else as the Exorcists poured into Hell from above, visibly gratified by the sight of so many sinners in one place. When Adam and Lute finally came into view, you made sure to wave at them with a smile. Lute was completely unaware of your past interactions, the scowl on her face a testament of that. Adam, on the other hand, looked oddly horrified. 

You would only face him after Alastor’s shield was broken, having slain several Exorcists by then, the evidence plain all over your clothes. Adam was strangely unfazed by this, however, seemingly too busy being pissed off by your presence when he found you behind the hotel.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Adam said as he spun you around, his grip on you piercing.

You heard the moment Adam landed near you, but you gave him the satisfaction of believing he had caught you unaware. Huffing, you shook his hand off of you, pushing him back with your foot. That pissed him off. It was easy dodging his attacks, though—too easy, you realized. You quirked a brow at him as the two of you practically danced around each other, creating the illusion that you were fighting.

“Fucking hello? Are you deaf?” Adam asked, swinging at you but completely missing.

“You might as well fight with the air,” You said, but then he knocked your spear out of your grip. No big deal, your hands would do. “Seriously, what do they teach you up in Heaven?”

“That doesn’t answer my question!” Adam said, lunging towards you in frustration. “Come over here, bitch—gotcha! Fucking finally!”

Never anticipating that he would pull such a stunt, Adam managed to tackle you to the ground. Fuck, he was heavy, but you’d find a way to escape his grasp. This is what you thought until he pinned your arms above your head, placing his legs on either side of you and caging your body underneath him. For the first time since he met you, you looked at him with fear. You were stuck.

“Shit, as hot as this is, it’s time for you to die, babe,” Adam said, but you knew he didn’t mean it—the second part, precisely.

“Why now?” You panted, your heart beating violently against your ribcage.

“What? What are you talking about?” Adam asked, his eyes widening as you bent your fingers to touch his hand, which were holding your wrists together. “Hey—what are you doing? Fucking stop that—“

“You could have killed me a long time ago, you know,” You interrupted him, forcing your body to relax in his grip in an attempt to appear genuine. 

Adam had a big mouth—everybody knew that. He would curse at every opportunity, the words, ‘Fuck,’ ‘Shit,’ and ‘Bitch,’ consisting of most of his vocabulary. But as he looked down at you, completely at his mercy, he had nothing to say. Not even a meager insult.

“I—“ Adam said, but that was all he had to offer.

You closed your eyes and exhaled, opening them after a few seconds. Angel’s dare echoed in the back of your mind, and you knew that you could weaponize it, but you needed to wear Adam down a bit more, his body too tense for your liking.

“Before I die, can I at least…see how you look like?” You asked, hoping it would work.

“You’re already looking at me right now, what?” Adam shook his head.

Of course he misunderstood you. 

“Behind the mask, I mean,” You specified, trying hard to be patient. 

“Oh.”

“Please?”

Adam looked over his shoulder, clearly hesitant. The fact that he was considering your request was a good sign, however, excitement blooming in your chest. After a minute or so, he turned back to you, sighing in defeat.

“I, uh—fuck, fine!” Adam stuttered, readjusting his grip on your wrists so he could remove his mask with one hand. “Don’t move, or I’ll, uh, kill you! Yeah.”

You nodded obediently, secretly curious as to how he looked like. As he held your wrists together with one hand now, Adam looked over his shoulder again, making sure that nobody was paying attention to you two. When he was satisfied, he tentatively reached up to grab his mask, his stare never leaving you.

You couldn’t help but notice how Adam’s fingers trembled. He looked so vulnerable, and that made your stomach feel a bit funny. You wanted to call him pathetic, but the way he slowly revealed himself to you squashed that urge. As much as he sucked, he was still a person, you realized, especially when his mask landed next to your head.

Your eyes darted across his face, taking in each and every one of his features. If anybody asked you to guess what Adam, the first man alive, looked like, you would have replied with ethereal. But as you took in the sight before you, he was…average, with pale skin, hazel eyes, ash brown hair, and stubble decorating his chin. Still, he somehow managed to mesmerize you.

“Are you done, uh, looking?” Adam stammered, turning away from you.

He was growing self-conscious under your gaze, and that made you feel…bad? Oh no, why did you feel bad? You noticed the funny feeling in your stomach was only growing stronger, making you nauseous. You had no idea what it was, but if you remained underneath Adam for a second longer, you feared that you’d discover what it was.

But before you could shut down whatever this was, you had to indulge yourself first, being the sinner you were. You also justified it by convincing yourself that he hadn’t been worn down enough yet.

“Kiss me,” You said.

“What?” Adam blinked, completely caught off guard.

“I said kiss me—are you deaf?” You said, throwing back his insult from earlier.

“Now why the fuck would I—I don’t want to—that’s crazy—“ Adam struggled to form a coherent sentence, nervously laughing in between his words.

“Kiss me, daddy.”

His grip on your wrists immediately loosened, shocked. You had him right where you wanted him, retracting your arms from above your head with a practiced speed, seizing his collar and bringing him in for a kiss. Adam gasped against your lips, but that was the only form of protest he gave you. Before you knew it, he had one hand buried in your hair, the other on the small of your back with the sole purpose of joining your bodies.

It was supposed to be a quick kiss, but you allowed it to progress, enjoying the feeling of Adam’s hands desperately clawing at you. Meanwhile, all he could think about was how he couldn’t kill you anymore. He was addicted to the way your lips wetly smacked against one another, your hands glued to his face and his face only.

Your body was starting to heat up, and so was Adam’s, you realized. “Fuck,” You whimpered, feeling his length poking at your thigh. When he took the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, his hand cupping the space between your thighs, your mind instantly went ‘Nope.’ You were in the middle of a battle, for fuck’s sake.

“Adam, we need to—“ You said, separating from the kiss, but he just dived right back in.

You grabbed his face, forcefully pulling him away from you. Adam peered down at you with rosy cheeks and bruised lips, his mouth slightly agape as he struggled to catch his breath. He looked absolutely blissed out, even as his hand remained in between your thighs, your head falling back with a moan as he started to massage you through your pants.

“Stop!” You cried, grabbing his wrist and squeezing him harder than you should have.

“Ow—what the fuck!” Adam whined, retracting his arm. 

When he looked at you like a kicked puppy, you rolled your eyes and sat up. 

“We are not going to fuck in the middle of…this! It’s not right,” You said, trying to snap him back to reality. “Look around you, Adam!” You gestured wildly, regret immediately replacing the arousal you previously felt.

“Fuck, I’m so selfish. What if my friends are dead? And I could have saved them if I weren’t so busy—“ You stopped rambling when you noticed the expression on Adam’s face.

He looked everything but apologetic, and God, did that piss you off. You quickly collected your spear from the ground and moved behind him, holding the weapon against his neck.

“Woah! Hey, babe! You don’t gotta do all that!” Adam panicked, his hands landing over yours, albeit putting no effort in pulling the spear away from his neck. “I’m sorry—you’re right—this is wrong and you—“

“Get up,” You demanded, kicking at his feet when he didn’t listen. “I said get up!”

“I’m doing it, I’m doing it!” Adam said, but he had to stop halfway into his ascent.

The man was taller than you, so there was no way he could stand up at his full height without risking getting choked. 

“Hey, genius, I can’t get up without your fucking spear—“ He started, but then he felt the weapon abandon his throat.

“Get the fuck out of here,” You said, grabbing his arm and spinning him around.

“What?” Adam asked, his brows furrowed as he processed your question. “No, I’m not gonna leave. Do you have any fucking idea what just happened?”

You turned away from Adam, feeling tears prick at your eyes. You really hated yourself for what you were about to do, but it was the only way to get him to understand.

“So? Who cares,” You said.

“The fuck? I do, you stupid—ah, sorry, I’m not good at this kinda stuff,” Adam shook his head, frustrated. “But I…care, about you and whatever just happened.”

“I was only trying to save myself,” You said, but Adam wasn’t having any of it.

“Well, shit, you have a funny way of doing it,” Adam said, rounding you as he gauged your reaction. “Do you make googly eyes at every fucker who’s about to kill you, huh? Let them kiss you and touch you the way I just did?”

Screams pierced the sky, a reminder of everyone fighting right around the corner. You didn’t have the time to argue, especially as you thought about your friends, who were out there risking their lives while you were fucking around with Adam.

“I don’t want you, Adam. Okay? Get it through your fucking skull,” You lied through your teeth, seizing his collar and forcing him to look at you. “Look at what you and your dumbass army are doing! You’re slaughtering innocent souls that are fighting for a chance at redemption.” 

Adam stuttered, a look of disbelief upon his face. While it pained you to see him that way, your words were exactly what he needed to hear. If you allowed anything else to happen between you two, you’d never be able to forgive yourself.

“But what right do you have when you’re here in Hell—“ Adam tried to counter, but you didn’t let him finish his sentence. 

“I’m sorry, but you spared me out of your own goddamn selfishness, mercilessly killing other sinners because they weren’t me. I’m not special, and honestly, neither are you!” You continued, trying not to acquiesce as you heard his breath hitch in his throat. “You’re the Adam—so fucking what? I could never be with you, and you should’ve known that when all of your wives have left you.”

You bit your cheek as you pushed Adam away, trying not to apologize as his heart shattered into a million pieces before you. He could have killed you, but he didn’t, instead opting to watch you as you turned your back on him—just like everybody else he had ever loved. Little did you know that that would be the last time you saw Adam alive. “Did ya do it?” Angel joked as you observed his lifeless body, his face falling when you didn’t laugh. “Cause ya didn’t have to, but if ya did, uh, good job?” You eventually offered him a half-hearted nod. Hell had won, and Extermination Day had been cancelled, but you felt hollow as everyone brought you in for a celebratory hug.

[kimarii-00]

Honey would please write something like when Armando left his gf she is a hacker and a weapon specialist without saying anything turned out that's not the only person he left behind. ( Tiny a baby girl who like to hold a wooden spoon ) They meet again when they going to the ammo squad in bad boys for . Her Kelly are besties . Very very angst.

(I accidentally deleted the ask, but I wrote it down before I did so above is the prompt for this, asked by anonymous)

Regrets and Punishments

❥Summary: Armando knows he made a mistake. He knew when he decided that his mother was more important than his girlfriend. But he planned to return to her, he did. He never could’ve anticipated being gone for as long as he was. Seeing her face again was like getting shot: You get that adrenaline rush, yet the pain ends up biting you in the ass later on. Especially when he discovers what, or dare I say, who he also left behind all that time ago.

❥Warnings: Slow burn, kidnapping, language

❥Word Count: 2.7k

❥Part 1/2

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: I’m ngl I’m not sure if you meant that you wanted them to have a kid or not, but I wrote it just in case, let me know if that's not what you wanted and I’ll rewrite it! (I also gave the kid a name)

I think I’m going to make this a two parter because I kinda took this prompt and ran with it lol

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He never thought he’d see you again. As much as he didn’t want to, he accepted the fact that he’d fucked up your relationship when he decided to leave you in favor of helping his mothers’ dirty work. He didn’t even give you so much as a call after he’d left to let you know that he was even alive. He only hoped that you were doing fine on your own.

Nonchalantly, Armando walked through the door to the house of the people Mike and Marcus knew, not giving a damn about the warning to stay outside like Mike had told him to. No wonder a gun was drawn and pointed at him as soon as he stepped foot in the home.

“Woah, woah! Kelly-” Mike began his attempt to mediate the situation, “I asked you to wait outside for a second… Alright, Kelly, he’s with us.” Standing in between the gun and his son.

“He can’t be here.” Kelly retorted, keeping her gaze on the wanted criminal standing before her.

“This is my son, Armando.”

“I know who he is and that’s why he can’t be here,” The gun never faltered as she spoke with a solid, demanding voice, “I trust you with my life, but I sure as shit don’t trust him.”

“I trust him,” Mike confirmed.

“Then take him to your house.”

Dorn cleared his throat, trying to release some of the tension that had built in the room. Armando said nothing as Dorn came over to try to calm his girlfriend, and Mike took his son to the opposite side of the room.

Marcus sat down on the couch in the middle of the room and snatched up a bag of chips, “This is some dysfunctional shit.” He said, looking back and forth between the two duos.

They came back together after a minute or two. “She’s fine,” Dorn said.

“She don’t look fine…” Marcus expressed, taking in the obvious irritation and discomfort on her face.

“I’m fine.”

“Yes, you are.” Everyone turned in the direction of Armando, where he only opened the fridge to grab a drink.

“It’s the language barrier,” Marcus explained to Dorn.

“It was English!”

“It was definitely English.”

“I have to call someone. I’ll be back,” Kelly said, picking up her phone and already beginning to dial, “If I’m going to do this I’m gonna need another girl here. She’ll be able to help with the tech stuff too.”

“Is it–” Dorn began, but cut himself off when Kelly nodded, “Tell her to leave Demi at home, we don’t know what kind of shit we’re getting into.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you got the call from Kelly, you weren’t entirely sure what to make of it. She told you she needed you to come over, but when you asked her why, she only said something about “emotional support”. You’d tried to press her for more details but she only mentioned having some people over and needing your tech skills. After a while, you just decided you’d go, but not before you handled your own business.

“Demi, come here please!” You called out while folding another shirt, making a nice crease and adding it to your pile of similar neatly folded shirts.

The aggressive pitter-patter of small feet hitting your hardwood floors alerted you that the person you’d called for was on their way.

“Mama!” You felt the bed on which you were folding clothes dip a bit as a weight threw itself into the soft mattress. You smile when you set your eyes on the girl who is smiling to herself contently—your daughter.

“Mimi, mama has to leave soon,” You said as you picked her up and set her on your hip so you could continue to fold while holding your toddler, “Tiara should be here soon to look after you, okay?” You say, referring to your babysitter that you should probably be paying more considering how many times you’ve called her in the past week or so.

“Mama leaving… again?” Your heart dropped when you watched the smile fade from your daughter's face when she realized you were going to be gone and she was going to be left with the babysitter for what felt like the hundredth time. You always felt bad when things like this came up but… you couldn’t just blow Kelly off. Not after all she’s done for you.

“Yes… Mama’s leaving, I’m sorry baby but I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can okay?” You tried to cheer her up by giving her stomach a few tickles but your daughter was as stubborn as they come, her pout seemingly permanently stuck to her face.

The doorbell stole your attention and you gently set your daughter down. She followed you to the front door, and when you opened it her permanent pout was replaced with nothing but… confusion. You joined her in sporting this facial expression when you both looked at the stranger at your doorstep.

“Can I.. help you?” You ask the woman. She had a soft smile on her face, but for some reason, it didn’t seem welcoming.

“I’m your babysitter.” The woman replied.

“Um… I’m sorry there must be some mistake. My usual babysitter’s name is Tiara, I called her a while ago-”

“Tiara asked me to come here in her stead, she isn’t feeling too well, unfortunately. I’m a coworker of hers.” The woman explained, but you weren’t convinced. Tiara hadn’t mentioned any of this to you when you called her-

Just then, as you were about to make up your mind about whether or not you wanted to slam the door on the lady, you received a message from… Tiara.

3:34 Tiara (Babysitter): Hey, so sorry for the inconvenience but I’m not feeling good today, I sent over my coworker because I know you needed a sitter ASAP! Her name is Sara.

“What was your name again?” You asked, slowly taking your eyes off of your phone and to the lady, still wearing that smile on her face.

“Sara.”

You look her up and down once more before stepping to the side to let the woman inside. Your daughter hid behind and clung to your leg, only peeking out when she was sure the strange woman was not looking at her.

“Um… This is Demi,” You gesture to the girl who has glued herself to your right leg. You try to get her to say hello but she refuses. Sara stoops down to your daughter's level and tries to wave at her but Demi only scooches further out of sight. “The fridge is fully stocked, there are only a few weres, really: Don’t invite anyone else over, no drinking, oh and her bedtime is 8:30.”

“Please do not worry, I’m sure me and Demi will have a great time together.” Sara expresses, that damn smile still plastered on her face. There’s something about this lady that you just don’t like, but if Tiara sent her then it’s probably just you overreacting, right?

“Right… Could I get your phone number, just in case?” You say. She recites her number to you and you quickly enter it into your phone and save the contact, just in case of an emergency. You then turn around and kneel to look your daughter in the face.

“Be good, okay Mimi? I promise I’ll be back soon,” You say, giving her a quick peck on the forehead and a hug. She looks extremely hesitant and to be honest, so are you, but you’re already running late… “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Demi says meekly.

You smile and turn to leave.

If Tiara sent her, there shouldn’t be a problem, right?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You parked in front of the house that your best friend and her boyfriend lived in. You had no guesses as to why she called you here, but if your technology skills could be useful to her, you’d want to help in any way you can.

You knock on the door and after a while, Kelly answers but stops you before you can go inside. “We kind of got ourselves in some shit, we’ll fill you in.”

She grabs your wrist, pulls you inside, and closes the door shut. The first thing that you lay your eyes on is the monitors that Dorn was sifting through. Pulling up various pictures of people and files that look confidential.

Should I even be here right now…?

“What's the situation?” You ask as you move towards Dorn.

“Remember when we told you all that stuff about Captain Conrad–”

“(Name)?”

You pause when you hear your name. The voice sounds so familiar you're almost scared to turn around and see who it was that called you. You think you know who it was that called, which is probably another reason as to why it takes you so very long to fully turn and face the man that has broken your heart time and time again.

It’s like the world stopped. All of a sudden, everyone in that room except for the man in front of you was irrelevant. There were so many things you wanted to say, yet no words left your mouth.

What is he doing here?

Why is he here?

All of the emotions flowing through you quickly became too much. Without a word, your feet guided you to the nearest room in which you could be alone.

“Do yall know each other?” Mike asked, but received no answer when his son went after the girl, “Do they know each other?” He asked in a more general way, but was met with nothing. The tension silenced everyone.

You ripped your arm out of the hand that had caught it when you reached the empty room. “Get the fuck off of me! What the hell are you doing here?” You exclaimed angrily. All of a sudden, all of those feelings you felt were entirely replaced by rage. Anger, directed at the man who’d left you without a second thought.

“I–” Armando began, but was cut off.

“Y’know what, I don’t care! Get the hell out of my face!”

“(Name), wait– stop,” He said, grabbing hold of your bicep when you tried to turn away from him again.

“You have some fucking nerve!” You growled, entirely in shock of the fact that he thinks he’ll just have a nice chat with you, “I haven’t seen your ass in years! Not a fucking call, or even a damn text! Nothing!”

“I know, I know, I didn’t plan on it being like that,” he pointed out. In actuality, he had no clue or reason as to why he followed you here. He knew he fucked up their relationship and a few words wasn’t going to change that fact. So why was he so desperate to get you to hear him out? He was never like this. It’s been years, why do you still have this weird affect on him?

“Yeah? Well I never planned on being abandoned by you, but look where we fuckin’ are now. Get the hell away from me,” You seethed. He had no clue how hard you were trying not to cry, “I said get the hell off of me!”

You snatch your arm from his grip. Deep down, underneath all of the anger that had boiled up to the surface, you’d missed Armando. You really did. Dealing with the pain of losing him, and never hearing from him until, well now. Taking care of Demi–

Does he even know about Demi? Does he know he’s a…

“Guys, so sorry to interrupt but we have a problem,” Kelly announced from around a corner. You hold eye contact with Armando for a few more seconds, trying to read his face but ultimately giving up. You didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. You stomp out of the room, and he lags behind you.

Upon entering the room where everyone was gathering around Dorn and his monitors, you see he is tapped into someone's security feed, which you quickly find out is Marcus’ and Mikes’ homes where their families were. Dorn was notifying the police to send backup and you realize that there are people attempting to break into the homes. Does this have something to do with their investigation with Captain Conrad?

Mike and Marcus grab their phones and quickly make calls, telling their people to hide, and leave their houses. You watch the cameras and watch as the masked men make their way into the two guys’ respective houses.

“Fuck, fuck!” Marcus says when he watches someone from his house grab a gun from a safe and hide the rest of the family in a closet. You can only home that whoever Marcus decided to trust with his family’s safety was skilled.

Everyone watches and commentates on the man's performance in the security feed, taking down the trespassers one by one until he is able to safely transport the rest of the family out of the house, but not before saluting to the security camera for us onlookers to see.

Mike is not so lucky, as he is not able to reach his wife in time to warn her and the girl who was with her at the time. We all have to watch when she’s easily overpowered and tied up. Mike is still on the phone with her, able to hear everything that’s going on.

A sudden devious voice sounds through the phone, one that was definitely not his wife, “Mr. Lowrey.”

“Who am I speaking to?” Mike lowers his voice and says in a serious tone.

“I think you know who you’re speaking to,” the voice says ominously, “I need your boy, and whatever evidence your beloved Captain has foiled away.” You eye Armando whose eyes were flicking back and forth from the phone to Mike, “And for that, you can have your wife. I’ll call you back with instructions.”

“Ah, shit…” Mike grumbles, but the man on the other side of the phone has not yet hung up.

“Ms. (Name), I know you’re there as well.” Your heart drops to your toes. What could this man want with you? “I’d go ahead and check the security systems for your house as well.” A beep was heard as the man hung up and your eyes widened. No…

He wouldn't, right? You had nothing to do with this operation.

Nevertheless, you pushed Dorn out of the way and pulled up your homes’ cameras, and scanned for anything out of the ordinary. You spotted Demi playing with dolls in her room. The only thing was that you couldn’t spot the babysitter, but you figured she must’ve been in the bathroom.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in.

“Who’s kid is that?” Armando spoke up. You looked over but didn’t fully turn around, fearing he’d already figured it out, and just wanted clarification. You were afraid. You were afraid that if he found out, he’d come back into your life. Demi’s life. You didn’t want to get hurt again. You don’t think you could handle him leaving you again, so you stayed silent. You left the question to hang in the air.

The breath you let out was sucked back in when you saw your front door open slightly, then all the way and three masked intruders walked in. “Fuck!” You exclaimed, snatching up your phone and dialing the phone number you’d received from the new babysitter before. She answered after one ring, which you were entirely grateful for, “Sara, grab Demi and get the hell out of there, now. Please!” You frantically spew out. You’d be surprised if she caught any of that.

There was no response on the other end until Sara spoke, “There’s people in the house?” She asked, too calm for your liking.

“Yes, so grab Demi and get the fuck out of there. Take the window if you have to, they’re searching the living room right now,” You say, watching the men search the living room and kitchen, slowly making their way down the hallway which they would find your daughter.

Again, no response. That is, until the chilling words made their way into your ears. “Finally, I was wondering when they’d arrive.” And she hung up.

Your eyes were blown wide enough to where you were sure you were going to start hearing colors and seeing sounds. You were speechless and your heart was racing a mile a minute as you watched the ‘babysitter’ pick your daughter up and… deliver her to the intruders.

You could only watch, helpless as your daughter was kidnapped.

What the hell just happened?

[wandurlvst]

camping the night

the drover x gn!reader

notes: so guys like WHY ISNT THERE ANY FAN FICS ABOUT THE DROVER??? I SEARCHED BOTH AO3 AND TUMBLR IM SO MAD. i feel like thanos “fine. i’ll do it myself 🗿” type shit. i'm also writing this while im watching the jimmy kimmel interview with hugh and ryan- you can tell im obsessed

warnings: the scene of him bathing only i’m gonna rewrite it sorta?, the sexual tension omfg, hugh jackman (he’s a warning in and of itself in the good way) im not even going to try to attempt to use over the top australian slang since i am NOT australian myself and i do not want to get anything wrong

-

“aight, let’s rest up here for the night.” the drover said as you two approached a large tree. it was a frequent spot to stop at on long trips like these to the city.

you followed him, leaving the small group of cattle to graze the little amounts of grass that was around. hopping off your own horse, you hitched him on the tree.

“let’s see about starting a fire- wake up early tomorrow to get a head start.” the drover unpacked his things. you had been accustomed to this life ever since you were a child. your father—joined the war, died. your mother, gotten sick from TB, died. so, this life adopted you instead of the other way round.

luckily, you met the drover at the local bar. who helped you pick your life up and start new—start fresh. he saw your skills on horseback- knew how to herd cattle from your father before he went off to war. you had many skills, as one does, but droving was your strongest.

“hey.” he snapped his fingers in front of your face, which brought you out of your thoughts. “quit horsin’ around. start collecting firewood yeah?" he ordered. "alright- quit your shouting." you protested, "i don't want to hear it, just get to work."

-

time passed and night fell quickly. you two spent the night chatting, sharing a meal and everything in between. you always enjoyed the moments you and him had together--small or big. from then on, your feelings for him only grew. which wasn't a surprise. he was caring in his own way- always looked out for the people around him.

you were in your own thoughts watching the cattle--making sure they don't wander off. leaning against the tree while sitting on the floor, barely keeping awake.

you yawned, turning back to the camp to check on drover--you found him bathing. this usually doesn't happen. you've seen him shirtless countless times but nothing like this.

you quickly looked away--leaning back against the large tree. thinking to yourself and processing the sight before you. from what you saw at the sudden glance--he was lathered in the soap, chest to hips. you couldn't help yourself and peeked again, this time you watched each and every little detail.

he picked up a bucket of water he filled earlier--tipping it over his head and letting it pour over his body. you couldn't look away this time. it was like you were forced to watch every second and you didn't mind at all. you barely noticed the heavy breathing coming from your mouth.

the drover turned around but before he could see you taking a peek you returned to your position sitting against the tree. then, footsteps started approaching you, “oh crikey…” you sighed.

the drover was leaning against the tree using his arm, he looked down at you. “you rest, i’ll watch em” he said in a low voice. you looked up and was greeted by his dripping wet frame.

the water soaked the top of his pants, you watched as droplets were still trickling down his chest and over his abs. you were in your own world and you didn’t hear anything he said.

but of course, he noticed. “oi. what’s wrong- ya burnin up?” kneeling down, he held his hand to your forehead—likely because he saw how red you turned in the face. he was so close you could barely function properly.

“i- uh-“ stuttering only escaped your mouth, you needed space. the mere proximity of him overwhelms you. “no- i’m just…” you stood up and he did the same. you were face to face with him again—your plan to distance yourself for air was futile.

you felt his breath on your face, his own body heat adding to your own. “i’m just tired.” avoiding his eye contact, he held your chin, gently forcing you to look at him. “i’m sure it’s more than that.” he said softly, he placed his hands on your exposed arms, the drover felt how the rest of your body was affected by him.

“need a bath of your own to cool down, hm?”

[desireangel]

Infernal Desires | Part One

Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

Synopsis: When your family is caught up in treasonous scandal, the Prince Regent makes an offer that is impossible to refuse. To avoid what certainly would have been death by his sword, your family promises you to a man who is followed by whispers of violence and sin.

Warnings: mdni 18+! Strictly. Dark-ish ??? Aemond! Bad language, reader is implied to be from a certain family but not really, rushed & unedited. Sexual tension, allusions to sex, mentions of death and killing, Aemond gets angry handsy, hair pulling, mention of the noose bc Aemond would never tell just anyone how he feels. This is mainly a word vomit - I am once again incapable of limiting my writing to one part.

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: aaand I’m back with a rewrite of an old fic I started last year! hopefully this is somewhat decent to follow along with - I wrote this while severely sleep deprived, stressed about procrastinating my uni work and knackered from work. Let me know if we are even interested in a part 2 or if I’ve missed any warnings!

It is a debt to be paid and an alliance to be made, that is all it is. 

Easy enough for them to say. After all, it was you who suffered from the mistakes of your family and not them. They may as well have left you to the dangers of King’s Landing with nothing more than a shattered dignity and the tears that trailed down your cheeks. 

Shit. Crying wasn’t going to do anything and while you never intend to present yourself as weak to anyone, there was nothing you could do to stop the angry tears that welled in your eyes. You wondered if your parents truly pained to see their daughter cry or if the tremble in your mother’s lip was nothing more than a pretence. 

Your father stared at the ground by your feet. “It was not meant to come to this.”

“But it did. Are you really going to barter me to–”

“We are not bartering you. Stop saying that,” He snapped. “All you will have to do is take the title as his wife and give him children. It cannot be that bad.”

The glare you sent his way was full of malice and rage. How could he say that? You were better than that, smarter than that and the thought of being reduced to who knows what that man had in store for you as his wife - they may as well have cut your tongue out and made you a slave. Knowing that your family, whom you loved endlessly, were so sure of selling you so easily to a cruel man like Aemond Targaryen caused a dull ache in your chest. 

It seemed hard to breathe through the betrayal, your chest heavy with deceit and heartbreak. Had you known what your father had been planning, you could have run away and found a way to survive without the comfort of your family lands. 

“What Prince Aemond has offered has saved us,” Jericho stood leaning lazily against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He stared at you, his little sister who would have died before leaving him to such a fate. “I do not expect you to understand the complex relationships between our Houses but consider this, dear sister. Would you rather him have the Vale burned to ashes? Have us hung from the walls of the Red Keep? I made a mistake. I know this, and I am sorry but this is the only choice we have.”

There was a tense silence. Jericho had ruined everything with little chance of repair and it was you who had to pay the price. You knew how the Crown punished Rhaenyra’s sympathisers and Jericho had damned the future of your family. What was happening is wrong - war is never worth the price it takes. You wholeheartedly agreed with that but there was something inherently stupid about putting the people you cared about at risk just to send a raven with a conditional offer of a bent knee. 

You blinked as you tried to make sense of it all. “Explain it to me. I do not understand.”

“Aemond Targaryen is Prince Regent but I was once his only friend,” Jericho said. You knew he used the word friend strategically. “He extended an olive branch. Repent our House’s treachery through our last daughter and a pin for the Vale on King Aegon’s map. You could not understand how generous that is. Refusing would have been a sentence of death.”

Friend? Generous?  You would have laughed if you could. You briefly wondered how Jericho had managed to barter with the Prince Regent before they had taken his head. Alas, it would be of no use to ask a question you would get no answer to. The men of these walls underestimated the capabilities of a woman’s mind and a woman’s strength. 

“All he gains is something to hold over your head, brother. Paying off your mistakes with my life? You have heard the stories - he has become a cruel man. Warming his bed when he sees fit and making his heirs will not fix what you did. Many have been executed for far less.”

Your father cleared his throat. “It is our only option. We have nothing more to offer in place and a ruined reputation. The family name holds the last of our power and without what little power we have left, your brother and I would lose the Vale. It is a miracle we have not already.”

“The Prince wants to dangle you over our heads? Fine. If that is what it takes for him to spare our lives.” Jericho’s voice was so rough. It was the first time you had seen him as anything other than gentle to you and you felt a heaviness at the sight of him so distressed. 

There was not much left for you outside of the empty empire that your father’s father had built for your family. At least you still had each other and your titles, and despite the situation that they’ve forced you into, at the end of the day, you all loved each other to death. It would have been a death sentence but you could have run away instead, could have found a life for yourself somehow. But how could you live with yourself knowing that you’d damned those you love because of your pride and fear of life as a princess?

So reluctantly and tearfully, you nod your head and silently agree.

Aemond wondered whether he was making the right decision by giving Jericho a second chance. If it were anyone else, he would have had them hung without a second thought. But you and your brother were different. 

It was a moment of weakness, an inexcusable lapse in his judgment to have spared Jericho’s treason because he remembered you and to have further justified his actions by claiming the Vale through your betrothal. While it was his first and foremost motivation and Aemond was bound by duty to take advantage of the opportunity, it was not the only reason he had suggested the idea at the Small Council.

There was hardly a person in Aemond’s life whom he could call a friend. There was not a soul in this world that Aemond could truly trust, not even Jericho who had been by his side for the first parts of his childhood. 

Nor you, who had at once shown him kindness in his youth despite the mockery that was often made of him. You had only accompanied your brother and father to King’s Landing on three occasions, and what started as your soft conversation and willing smiles for him had left his memory entirely until he heard word of Jericho’s treacherous message. 

Aemond, despite your attempts at friendship, had never returned your kindness. In truth, he didn’t know how to. And quickly, your smiles had turned to frowns and your attempts at friendly talk had become sarcastic remarks and quiet scoffs.

It was also a moment of selfishness and a decision made with nothing more than foolish curiosity. You had always been there, in the back of the picture and unnoticed by everyone apart from him. There was not a person in this world who had peaked his curious desire more than you and the two of you had spent the brief occasions together bickering and pestering one another. Regardless of your initial efforts, Aemond was never your friend. While he had never actually done you wrong before now, you were never really fooled by his deceiving nonchalance and forced manners. 

The indifference that you had for each other had no cause to fade. Even less so with the recent murderous, vile stories of Aemond the Kinslayer who killed his nephew and (while most wouldn’t dare utter the words beyond certain walls) who may have crippled his own brother with Vaghar’s fire. You had almost fallen to your knees upon hearing of your betrothal to such a man.

Aemond was now twenty and three but when it came to whatever distorted plot he was planning, he felt juvenile. Your brother and your father were the perfect pawns. You were the perfect leverage - perhaps a pawn yourself. As much as he convinced himself that having you in his possession would mean he would have invaluable power over your House to do exactly as he wanted within his twisted politics while he has the power to do so, the idea of having you in the palm of his hand, in his control and eventually beneath his body was exciting. 

He was never one for meaningless entertainment. But what was the harm in indulging himself this once?

It was a formality. Being presented at King’s Landing for the first time to your future husband, his family and to those whom he currently ruled over as the woman to be his wife. 

You had changed since the last time Aemond had seen you. It had only been two years but he would never admit to his surprise at just how different you had become from the cowering young girl he remembered you to be when you were just ten and four. 

He had rushed through the formalities of greeting you and your family, welcoming you into what would come to be your home. The lunch was painfully awkward as little was said between anyone. The Dowager Queen spoke formally yet kindly with your mother and shared a few words with you but you could barely engage with her conversation under the burning gaze of the Prince Regent who sat across from you.

It was over quickly, before anyone could start bickering about the traitorous reasons behind your presence. Aemond shortly convinced his mother that no escort would be needed, so long as Ser Criston Cole was there when you both were left to acquaint yourselves in private. You gulped as you were lead shamelessly into the Prince’s chambers. 

Aemond only set a glance upon Ser Criston and the raven haired man took his place outside the closed doors.

You were sure that the Prince’s chambers were as large as an entire wing of your own home yet you felt claustrophobic under his gaze. His eye was hellfire as he silently stared at you, leaning back in his chair and resting his fingers under his chin. There was little you could do but stare back at him, anxiously tapping your foot on the marbled floor.

In your eyes, Aemond had always been torturously beautiful. But here, as his gaze fell upon you and you shared the silence of his personal space, he was ethereal. It caused your breath to catch as you waited for him to address you first.

Shakily, you broke the silence. “Why am I here, my Prince?”

“You are to be my wife,” He drawled, fingers tapping on the desk that he lazily dragged his hand along. What a stupid question. “That is why you are here.”

“I believe you know that is not what I ask, my Prince.” You scowled at him. It wasn’t smart to talk to him in such a way, you knew that. He is Prince Regent, after all. A memory of your brother’s warning to be careful flashed briefly in your mind. 

His expression deceivingly calm, Aemond considered putting you in your place. He may be behaving in a way he does not recognise of himself but he would not tolerate your disrespect. 

Instead, he somewhat answered your question. “We will be married so that your brother’s treason shall be forgiven and your House will be sworn to the King. You will stay here, in my chambers. Do whatever the seven hells you please, it does not matter.”

In any other instance, Aemond would have detested the sight of you gaping at him, stumbling over your words stupidly as your wide eyes confidently held his own. You had changed. Or maybe he had just been blind to the perfect curves of your body or the way you looked at him like he ruled the realms, so submissive yet so full of fire. So tempting. 

He’d condemn himself to the noose before ever admitting to his thoughts. 

“What?” you almost gasped. There was no chance that you could stay in his chambers like this. You were sure the whispers of the Keep were already running amok with Aemond’s insistence on isolating the two of you behind the doors to his private chambers.

Aemond took pleasure in the way you seethed. “I will not make it so easy for you to return to scheming with your treasonous family.”

You could hit him. If he weren’t a Prince, you would have. “You are keeping me prisoner? For something I have had no such hand in?”

“No,” he stood from the table and in two strides, he was in front of you. So close that you could smell the woody oils he bathed in mixing with the smell of his musk and the leather of his clothes. You shuddered. “Maybe I am. Call it what you like. You can do as you please, eat as you please, wear whatever you please, you can explore these halls as you wish. I do not care. But you will listen to me and it will all be as per my will.”

Before you could respond, Aemond continued. “For all they know, I’ve made it clear to everyone that you will stay in the chambers that I have chosen for you, on the other side of that wall.”

Aemond’s eye was a violet-blue inferno as it held yours. He was closer now and you let your eyes drag across every part of his devastating face, swallowing at his beauty and wondering what lay under the leather of his eye patch. 

Struggling not to lose your breath, not to lean in to touch him and feel him, you held your head high and turned your back to him. “Fuck you.”

A gasp fell from your lips as Aemond’s hand found the back of your head in an instant, slender fingers weaving into your hair gently before closing into a tight fist and pulling back slowly so that you were forced to look up at the roof, the back of your head resting against his chest. His other hand wrapped around your waist, holding you back firmly against him. The tightness of his grip on your hair ached and left you dizzy, an unfamiliar longing for his hands to find more of you with the same fervour had you holding back a pathetic whine. 

Suddenly, you were burning from head to toe, a fire setting on your skin as he held you roughly against him, so close that you felt the feather light tickle of his breath grazing your hair when he spoke. He was scorching you through the leather of his tunic, your dress doing little to shield you from the heat of his body.

More than his anger, Aemond’s amusement made the air heavy. The way he unashamedly let his stare fall upon your lips, tucked between your teeth as you struggled to hold your glare, had your breath snatched from your lungs. 

Aemond dropped his head enough so that his lips lingered just under your ear, close enough that you could hear him draw in a breath, dragging his nose across the dip where your jaw met your neck. Your face burned at how shamelessly he had inhaled your soft scent.

“Is that how you talk to your Prince?” Aemond’s voice was low, dripping with a dominance that commanded respect. Placing his free hand on your left shoulder, he slowly turned you to face him, making sure to keep you tightly pressed against him.

Aemond was disastrously beautiful. The curve of his nose, the strength in his jaw, the way his scar painted the top of his cheek, the soft fall of his pin straight hair and the soft shine of his lips which you so badly yearned to feel. You cursed yourself for thinking such a thing as his low voice broke you out of your distraction. “This is my home. Right now, all of Westeros is mine. You are here because I said so, because I own everything. Everything. Including you. You would do well to remember your place while you are here, pretty thing.”

The fire in your blood was rage. You had never felt such desire that had your body craving another. It was anger driving you mad, it had to be. Despite your better judgment, you whispered once again, “Fuck. You.”

His jaw ticked and with a strong yank, you were flush against him. The pounding of your heart was violent and you were sure he could feel it against his chest but you were stuck under his burning gaze. Aemond was angry. And you couldn’t help but think that it suited him. It made him all the more desirable. 

Aemond was strong and hard against your body, tense as he held you so intimately yet so roughly. 

By the gods, you couldn’t even think. What was happening? 

“My Pr-”

“Quiet,” Aemond commanded. His deep voice, raspy with lust and with rage sent shockwaves down your spine. “What a mouth on you, my Lady. Fuck me, is that so?”

You muttered incoherently under your breath, the desire and the fear making your eyes flutter shut as you trembled against the Prince who held you so roughly.

“Hm,” Aemond chuckled when you let out a short whimper. He squeezed you tightly, his voice low and dark. “I could have you begging on your knees, crying for my cock all day and all night and you would never deserve it. You best careful, ñuha dāria, because I can ruin you.”

Another gasp fell from your lips and Aemond took pleasure in the way you squirmed against him, thighs pressing together as you felt the flush of his words through your body. He hummed, you were so reactive. Somehow, you fit perfectly against him, so that he could feel every little tremor he caused in your body, every goosebump that he placed on your skin. His gaze never left you, his resolve solid as iron. 

Your mouth watered at the thought of the things that Aemond could do to you. Thoughts you had never imagined yourself capable of harbouring, especially not for a man like Aemond Targaryen. It overwhelmed you - he overwhelmed you. 

But all you had to do was glance at the map that was splayed over his table and the weaponry he had discarded at the foot of it before you were trying to shove him away from you. Aemond stepped away from you upon noticing the panic in your movements. You barely noticed the flash of worry that passed through his features before he so skilfully replaced his mask. 

The rise and fall of your chest was heavy and you had the sudden urge to punch the sultry smirk right off of Aemond’s face. That was not okay. Right now, you didn’t even want to think about the way your body reacted to him, they way you would have let him have his way with you right there and then despite all the consequences that would rain down upon you. 

“I will not stay in here,” You closed your eyes to avoid his stare, chest heaving as you caught your breath and reminded yourself of the formalities of Aemond’s title. And of the possible repercussions for denying him so stubbornly. “My Prince, it is not appropriate.”

You hadn’t heard him make his way across the room until you heard the door open. Aemond hesitated, his resolve was not as strong as he had thought given the way his heart was beating as if he had run a mile. The strain at his pelvis was almost painful and his hands urged to be tangled in your hair again, squeezing your hips, feeling the warmth of your skin underneath your clothing. Perhaps you weren’t wrong and Aemond returned to his hardened self at the thought of being unable to control his desires. 

“Hm,” he drawled, stoic as ever and standing tall at the doorway and gazing down at you over his shoulder with a red hot spark in his eye. Aemond’s mind raced with a million words, many in the alluring language he knew you could not understand and they all tasted dangerous on his tongue. “You are not wrong. It is not appropriate until we are wed, ñuha dāria.”