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understandableparadox · 1 month

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a comprehensive list of everything wrong with hazbin hotel.

quick note before i lose myself in madness, my standards for helluvaboss are non existent because its a free show on youtube. also i kinda like helluvaboss and i will indulge in any bias i damn well please.

oh and spoilers. i guess.

the greater narrative of the entire season is "White lady civilize inner city hoodlum". ex: The blind side. rich girl, affluent family yadda yadda.

the story is set up to be like amphibia, owl house, svtfoe, steven universe, that being starting as something episodic then transforming into story driven narrative. why? because we know the benefits and drawbacks, episodic starts allows us to wander the world, it allows us to understand the dynamics, we are not forced to reckon with anything because there is no deadline. characters are allowed to bloom and shine and the audience can actually get attached.

the source material is Vary Clearly formed from remnants of something out of a middle school edgelord narrative. the usage of transformation, the big spooky grins, the "and then i smile as my eyes glow and-"-isms which in most cases i don't mind because in some instances but in a vary Particular case its astoundingly annoying and that annoyance is like a mold, shit spreads quick.

the color Red. as a lover of homestuck cherubs and karkat and aradia, as someone who fucking loves the color red, it is so painful to say but holy shit tone it the fuck down, i know its hell but their are so many other colors that you can use, its everywhere, the streets, the air, the windows, the screens, the characters, i know the pride ring is represented with red but change up the palates every so often for backgrounds

the rush, this ties into the second point made but i think the story itself is rushed. we know everything way to early. i know way to much and it makes it hard to care about anything because im still trying to digest the last chunk of info. "oh ok, so they clear out hell once a year. oh hell has a heaven embassy? ok. oh that adam the angel, i though he wou- oh its every 6 months now. wait the exterminators die a lot? then why is everyone sca- people in hell already have weapons that can kill angels? w- oh we are in heaven now, ok ma- no one in heaven except for the elites know the exterminations occur? how do-" and its that, just this incessant rush to explain everything to you. notably that's just the god damn spark notes, we need to know everything about the characters now, every single bit of their story, their insecurities, what charlie needs to fix, how she can fix them, the major bad guys, everything. you are never allowed to dwell on a character because we need to rush towards something else. it almost feels like this should have been like... season three, it would have been a fantastic season three if you dropped the introductions honestly.

the concept of redemption. for a story of redemption to work you need to look at three things. What is there crime, Do they want to change, What is preventing them from changeing? there is only one single character that has a notable path of redemption, angel dust, but if you look through their story it feels off. What Exactly is he guilty of? he has sex, does drugs and drinks. his apparent nymphomania is tied to his sad backstory as someone forced into the sex industry so how is that their fault? then if you think about it you start to spiral and notice "hey why are most of these people in hell?" like sure some of them may deserve punishment but then you see the fucking dichotomy and its like "I was a inventor in england and died of the fucking plague, i may have made evil little contraption hoohoohoo" vs "I was a cannibal, a full on cannibal, i fucking killed people and ate them and then someone shot me". ONE OF THESE THINGS ARE A LITTLE MORE FUCKING EXTREME. i'm going to go fucking nuts, the thing they went to heaven with when presenting a case to angels on the idea that redemption and becoming a better person is actually real was angel dust not drinking at a party and not having sex with consenting adults and i want to go fucking insane. WHAT IS THE CRIME, WHO IS THROWING THE BOOK, WHAT DOES THE BOOK INTEL, ARE WE ON GOOD PLACE RULES?! half the cast dont Need redemption they need fucking help, and the other half of the cast do need redemption but they do not seek it making the point moot. sir pentious acts like he has the brain of a hyper intelligent toddler tossing about toys, its almost like he did his one bad thing of spying and then got caught, sank his little diddy about forgiveness and second chances and become a null point through out the rest of the series, sure their was Some weight to him sacrificing himself, he was a decently funny character and he had good moments but him popping up in heaven felt like a fore gone conclusion, he didn't deserve to be in hell so why do i care that he is suddenly in heaven? because its working on the concept the good place already made. no one actually deserves eternal punishment they just need help processing what makes them a dick, but instead of looking at all the parts of the afterlife that make it bad, inefficient and then creating and trying ideas to see if it work instead over a few seasons, we crash dick first into all the major plot points in regards to that and say "tada, we fixed it.".

having a sub-plot about sexual assault and its victims then having multiple sexual assault related gag ruins your point.

don't make a bunch of stereotypically jewish characters into cannibals, that was a big thing, really shouldn't have to say it.

if you are going to make a character black, make them black, you can say alastor was black but sweet seren-fucking-dippity that's not a black man.

pot meet kettle but yeah the cursing could be a little less liberal. maybe just blue hair or the pronouns, not both.

there is a very distinctive art deco/jazz aesthetic which normally i love but i feel as though it is not used to its full extent and in some cases really hurts the character design in and of itself.

this is a vary obvious bit but the story is a million times more interested in gay men then it is of lesbians, which culminates in this insane thing where the writers clearly have more talent or perhaps it would be more abt to say practice writing male gay pining then they are with lesbian pining. which i personally think is hilarious because i did not know you could min max fujoshi-ism that hard.

this next section is more to do with each character on a fundamental level, for the sake of brevity whatever there is left, i'm just doing ones with speaking roles.

13. Charlie:

(see what i mean about that red thing?)

as originally stated charlie fits rather comfortably into every white saviour narrative, though that seems to be part of her joke. though i'm not entirely sure how much of a joke it can be when its rewarded and expected to advance the plot.

her character design says nothing, it has the motif of old puppets or dolls, she wears something vaguely similar to service suits, her demonic form is just some extra horns.not to say every character needs to have their life on a clothes rack but some more snake and goat imagery would be nice

its not the chol design of charlie with snake hair, not an actual problem but its a problem to me, damn you @cholvoq for ruining my ability to look at any of the characters without wishing i was seeing your designs instead.

character wise aside from the white savoir bit, i'm having a bit of trouble understanding what the arc of the character is. she is shown to be naive, someone who doesn't understand how the world works but everytime she says something its something astoundingly clear like "people can actually get better". and its treated like someone demanded faygo in every water fountain. is the joke that the world around her to cynical or is so to naive? please pick one or the other.

now if you know me, you know i fucking hate overpowered characters with a blinding passion, one that would set alit the god damn abyss but in this one special instance, i feel like its warranted, she's the direct descendant of fucking God, she can swing her weight around a little, i mean god damn. she in so many instances looks like shes cowering so often, why would the daughter of lucifer get backed down by some rando pimp? why wasn't she the one to fight adam? sure you can say she is young but how young? her parents were there since pre-abrahamic times, most of the characters showed up in hell in the 1900s, some of them showed up in the 1600s, how old is charlie??? how long does it take for her to learn how to be strong? The story does not suffer if charlie is strong and knows she is strong. it can easily be a case of "i don't believe in violence to a weird degree". fit it into her apparent naivety about the world to believe that violence is never the answer even when dealing with a being that is unilaterally horrible and abusive and monstrous.

she ga- no im kidding, i do think her romance was waysided a bit, it would have been fine to have more scenes of them togather and in love you know?

14. Vaggie

why did you name the lesbian vaggie...? Don't do that maybe?

I like how her design is almost moth like but again i feel as though you could have amped that up.

she feels as though someone tried to combine undyne and pearl from steven universe, same story beats and design elements. it makes it hard to really distinguish her as a character.

i honestly dont have much to say about her. she is fine.

christ kill me, lets just get the big one out of the way

15. Alastor.

God Damn

where to start.

"alastor is mixed race" mixed with fucking what? concrete? there is not a single black feature on that creature, now im not saying you have to make him a png of louie armstrong but it wouldn't hurt to add a curl to the hair maybe? make it a tiny bit more wavy? Something? a crumb i beg of thee?

his symbolism is all over the god damn place, native american monsters (you know the one), voodoo, radio, puppets, stitches, circuses??? and Tentacles i guess. two of those are from closed religions so if you dumped those you would actually get a more concise character focused on the concept of vox populi as a means of societal control and influence as we see in his first song. but again that gets drowned out repeatedly by all the other random toy box bits shoved into him.

tumblr sexy man bait

he serves no purpose in the story. he does spooky stuff, pretends to do things and then goes back to sitting around looking spooky. i understand that his motif is supposed to be aloof mastermind but maybe have him do more mastermindy things? if you remove most of alastors scenes, bar the songs, it doesn't change all to much. husk and nifity can still be at the hotel, they could be looking for outs in their contracts the same as angel dust. hell it even helps with the one scene where he dose some spooky shit, asking charlie for a favor in exchange for his help in the fight with the angels instead of asking him about angel weapons which should have remained a strictly vaggie scene.

his presence in a way delegitimize the story, as I noted in in the section regarding redemption, the three parts are "what is the crime, do they want to change, what is stopping them?" and alastor kinda just spits in the face of that. he is a serial killer cannibal that has no qualms about how evil he is and apparently must continue being evil due to being under the control under someone legitimately called the Root Of All Evil. show him take a slight interest in the idea that maybe shit for him could be better, make him Want Change at the bare fucking minimum or dont have him at the hotel.

his stupid little fucking horns, big shot the troll liker wants characters to have big fucking horns, make them noticeable or dont have them.

he looks more like a dog boy, which could have been an interesting thing with the collar motif but fuck me i guess.

personal pet peeve but i fucking hate characters that have a million plus powers, stick to a set number, be creative.

im getting more petty as i go on so last point: he could have been in less episodes, he didn't need to be in dad beat dad, that should have been just a lucifer and charlie episode. inverse the red and black and i think he would be fucking great color wise, his body type is the same as ten different characters, he isnt radio enough, aside from the voice and and staff if you told me he was the fucking Cat Demon i would have been just as convinced.

16. Angel Dust

what the fuck, gay spider? its hard to actully articulate all the thoughts i have on angel dust, not in the sense that he is a deeply thought provoking character but in the fact that there is not much meat on the bones.

all around i think angel dust is kinda middling. he has a decent enough romance with husk, he has a decent enough story line that revolves around battling addiction and removing yourself from an abuser (which the story tries to brand as "Redemption???")

I dont like that most of his jokes would qualify as sexual harassment, i don't mind him being sexual as a character but continuing on when clearly someone doesn't like the jokes hurts the character.

not a critique but he is pink, which honestly ill fucking take at point, as long as its not more fucking red.

i think his design is an improvement over some of the old vivzie designs but it feels like it could have done with going a few more rounds of design changes.

same thing with alastor, charlie and vaggie, there is not enough of the animal that they are supposed to be. You could have told me angel dust was a fucking bee or something and i would have had to believe you. nothing about angel dust initially says spider, hell he dosent even have enough limps to be a fucking spider.

17. Carmilla carmine

are... are you supposed to be a rabbit...?

Big Yoai Hands

ballet fighting style, could have been cool, wish she fought more like sanji or chun li.

A single mom that works to hard, who loves her kids and never stops-

her song was decent, not great, decent. it feels as though the actress has experience singing but not in the way they tried to make her sing during her two songs. they have a obvious mexican influence, honestly just let her sing in spanish in the english dub. go listen to the spanish dub, "out for love" sounds great in spanish.

i wish i had more thoughts on them, fucking rip.

18. cherri bomb

that's not a punk aesthetic that's 2010s alt

decent character, they showed up once or twice i guess, no real thoughts.

19. egg boiz

absolutely perfect, i have not notes on them, these are perfect creatures.

20. Emily

im so fucking happy to see a singular blue character

does the naive dreamer bit better then charlie

We really shouldnt have seen her until the end of season two or middle of three.

good contrast with the other angels on screen.

Wait she is supposed to be black??? Where???

21. Husk

keith david you absolute delight, Why on gods green earth did they only give you one singing part?

one of the few charecters where its clear husk is a cat, i do like the kinda... marquee design, he is a magic cat, thats neat. i still think you can toss the wings and eyebrows and still have just as good of a charecter.

has a deeply intresting story of someone who died as a nobody, became the fat cat of hell and then was forced back to the bottom by their own vices, not used at fucking all.

huge potential, little pay off.

22. lillith

I know nothing about her except she ditched her kid and husband to vacation in heaven and i think thats kinda funny.

alot of werid things floating around her, again she shouldnt have been shown in the show at all until next season.

23. lucifer morningstar

no notes, funniest charecter, did a song based on friend like me.

few notes: i do like the idea that the immortal symbol of pride is a constant emotional wreckage constantly seeking approval through grand showmanship and manic energy that threatens to take over anything they touch.

would have liked more snake stuff on him, maybe some more goat things like horns.

that is such a stupid fucking staff lmao.

24. Adam.

alex brightman you absolute fucking delight, you should have had more songs.

I wish his design was more focused on the idea of him being a glam rock wash up

I fucking hate his mask

We shouldn't have met him until the end of the season.

25. Niffty

again she is supposed to be a bug or cockroach but nothing about her points to that.

token straight

keeps rocketing back and fourth between sexulization and infantilization

you had kimiko glenn but didnt give her a single fucking song?

26. Sir Pentious

the secret season one redeemed.

the pilot version of him felt more like someone that could do a season one redemption arc, a megalomaniac constantly attempting territory grabs, there is something you can work with, actual character flaws to work through.

essentially a child after the first episode.

actually a snake which i appreciate.

no where near steampunky enough.

27. the villians of the show dont make much sense, each one feels like they should be season long deals on their own instead of a bunch of team rocket esque idiots that show up on occasion, do a bad thing and then leave.

28. Valentino

gOD THERE IS SO MUCH RED

only a moth some of the time.

sucks as a villain, maybe they need more screen time to show why they suck in a more substantial way aside from being told that he sucks.

it is interesting that angel dust is only under his magical control when in the studio, it shows that angel dust has to make a conscious choice to return, which in turn can be made to show how abusers can draw back their victims. I do not think it was done well in this circumstance as it shows him to be cartoonishly evil, constantly flying back and fourth between sweet and utter psycho, there is no actual reason for angel dust to ever actually go back to the studio, he just does so every so often.

29. Vox

legit who cares? the only thing about him that is in any way substantial is all the dope ass fan art we get.

propaganda machine angle that is not explored at all, just hinted at. no actual barring on the story whatsoever.

why didn't he try to do the same shit as alastor by the way? he knows its bad if alastor gets in good with charlie so shouldn't it be a ass kissing race?

same body shape as literally every other male character.

tumblr sexy man version of pyrocynicals fursona.

30. Valvette

the actual poster child of the shows huge problem of "Show me, don't tell me".

apparently the glue that holds the villains together. never shown.

apparently the one that makes the love potions that valentino is famous for. had to learn about that in the fuckin wiki trivias

we know so much about her from things outside of the show.

was there to call carmilla a coward, that's her plot contribution. she shows up every now and again but its never anything substantial and serves to more around take up run time for people We Don't Need To Know Yet.

im not trying to be mean, animation is animation, we need smaller studios to have success in the industry so that other indie studios can have that success, felling a tree makes it easier for others to follow. showing that its possible to number brain rot exacs helps all animators.

but this show has so much bullshit attached to it, it has so much fucking potential that it fries my brain with unyielding frustration.

this took a bit to write, im tired, thanks for reading.

#hazbin hotel

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krystal-kade · 2 months

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Charlie's a bad person

I know it's a bit of a bold statement, but I think Charlie's a pretty bad person

Not in the way Alastor, Angel, or Val are bad people. They are hateful and purposely harm others. She's a bad person because she enables bad people

Imagine finding out your friend is a literal sex slave who's soul is owned by his abusive boss. He knows his life's a mess, but he blames himself for everything that's happening to him. He uses sex and drugs to cope and forget everything that's going on in his life. He desperately wants to be free, but feels like he doesn't have the power to leave.

Imagine knowing your dad is your #1 enemy. He allowed the exterminations and continues to allow them because he thinks your people deserve death. He is encouraging the same things you're fighting against

Imagine your father figure (who is "supporting" your goal of redemption and good deeds) is a sadistic serial killer cannibal who owns the souls of thousands

Imagine being able to stop the suffering of millions around you, and you just ... don't.

That's Charlie. She is the daughter of a fallen angel. She's the daughter of an overlord. She's the princess of Hell. She's one of the most powerful beings in Heaven and Hell (less powerful than God, Jesus, Lucifer, and maybe the other sins?). She could free Angel Dust with the snap of her fingers. She could end their contract, kill Valentino, SOMETHING. Yet she does nothing. FOR 6 MONTHS her friend has been a tortured sex slave, and she does absolutely jack shit about it.

Her dad advocates for the slaughtering of her people, and is the entire reason she has to have her hotel, yet she's more worried about their father-daughter bonding. If he went to Sera and told her to stop the exterminations, I'm sure she'd oblige. If she didn't, just say "I'll tell all of Heaven about the exterminations if you don't stop" and she would. Exterminations could end so quick if Charlie or Lucifer used any ounce of their power.

She could fight Alastor and get him to stop killing people. Get him to stop being so evil and murderous, but she doesn't.

She has the power to fight essentially every demon in Hell and win, yet she doesn't. She's a pacifist who REFUSES to use violence or authority unless it's for her benefit (fighting Katie Killjoy, screaming at Susan, fighting Adam, etc). While using non-violent tactics are great when they work, they don't always work. You're in Hell, and saying "don't do that, it's mean :(" isn't going to work. You're not a good person for avoiding violence and not using your authority, you're a spineless jackass for never using violence or authority to help your friends or your people

#anti hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #anti vivziepop #anti Charlie morningstar #vivziepop critical

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ilovetoxicfictionalmen · 1 month

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GRADUATION GIFT

Pairing - Lenny Miller x fem!reader

Summary - You despise your mother and are awaiting the day you can finally be free from her. However, she’s met her so called soulmate who can’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

Warnings - noncon, implying of drugging, brief infidelity, p in v, parental issues, spanking, daddy kink, breeding kink.

Word count - 2k+

Notes - On a roll right now. Definitely wrote this during the course of 6 alcoholic beverages so I apologise.

The Honda Civic rolled up your driveway, you breathed out, your head swayed gently, bloodstream full of alcohol. There was no other way to celebrate graduating high school than by getting plastered at a house party. Despite your intoxicated state, you couldn’t help but to dread the sight of your home. You should have left early with your friends and crashed at theirs.

Only a couple of more months. Until you’re free from your egocentric, victimizing, alcoholic mother. The woman you despise, the creature that drove your father away from your life. You hated her more than everything. She had cheated on your dad for years and when he finally broke she blamed him for everything.

He fell in love with another and got her pregnant. Your father chose them over you and your overbearing mother. The sad reality was that you couldn’t blame him. But you’ll never understand why he didn’t take you with him.

You stumbled inside, not really caring if your ruckus woke anyone up. A fresh bottle of water was pulled from the fridge as you sculled down as much as your stomach would allow you. As you walked back into the hallway, your direction pointed to the staircase, you heard a clear of the throat.

When your eyes landed on him, you lightly gasped. He sat on the cream chesterfield armchair, his legs spread wide open. Minus the jacket, he was still in his suit from yesterday. It was past two in the morning, why the fuck was your so-called step-dad awake? Those blue orbs stared your exposed skin up and down as his hand combed through his wavy brunette hair. You tugged down at your mini dress to cover yourself, but it was pointless.

Behind his charm, Lenny was creepy. You had picked up on that instantly by the way he stared at you when you accidentally opened the door for him. It was their first date and your mother had plenty of those. However, he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of you, even when your mother rushed to the door.

When your mother announced they were going on a second date, you were surprised. Now those, she didn’t have many of. The shocked expression that plastered your face was unhideable when she announced that they were officially together. She even had the audacity to tell you to call him dad. Because he would like that.

You fell victim to his lingering eyes during all of your brief encounters. There weren't enough excuses to get out of the house whenever he was over. Lenny spoke to you confidently and condescendingly. To which he didn’t fail to drop a carnal comment in each conversation which went unnoticed by your mother if she was in attendance.

You felt like your mother, making it all about yourself. But you wouldn’t dare to say anything, what else would it be besides you trying to pray horrible things upon her. They were perfect for each other, they were both fucked and the sooner you were out the better.

“Lenny, you’re up late” you shuddered, standing awkwardly as his hawk eyes stalked you.

There was a glass of whiskey in his hand as he swayed the liquid carelessly. You focused your sight on the glass, waiting for it to spill onto the carpet.

“You had upset your mother extremely” he said, his tone dripping of disappointment.

The moment in discussion was earlier yesterday during your graduation ceremony. She didn’t even want to be in attendance. But Lenny convinced her otherwise to go, with him accompanying her to the event, she was already a few mimosas in despite it being a midday ceremony. Afterwards, she didn’t suggest, she ordered that you’d go out for a family dinner to celebrate.

When you stated that you had other plans, it ended up being a cat fight on the ride home between you and your mother. You didn’t notice Lenny’s knuckles turn white around the steering wheel as he stayed quiet between your shouting match.

“Well, it’s my life” you shrugged your shoulders at him.

Who did he think he was anyways? You didn’t give a fuck that he was a retired CIA agent. If anything, he should fucking arrest your mum for being a failure in life.

Lenny didn’t take his eyes off of you as he finished his drink. He breathed in, dramatically raising his chest as he stood up. Your throat tightened as he stepped towards you, you stepped back just as quick.

“Well” he mocked your tone. “You know what I think?” He asked, his jaw clenched.

“What?” you squeaked as he placed the tumbler on the coffee table and headed straight towards you.

Your body pressed back into the plaster wall as he trapped you in with both forearms resting on the wall right next to either side of your face. He breathed deeply as he considered his choice of words.

“I think your father failed at discipling you as a child. Left you to be nothing more than a fucking brat leeching off of her mother’s funds” he hissed, his lower body flexed up against yours.

Your eyes widened at his words, the fire inside of you was brewing however you couldn’t help but to be intensely frightened by this new, menacing side of him. There were little options that would end up in your benefit. “Mum!” you panicked, sure she was a drunk but her self-importance would never fucking allow this.

Lenny pouted to you sarcastically as you stood frozen, his lips slowly crept to your ear. “Oh, your mother was a crying mess. I had to give her something to help her sleep, she was so overwhelmed. I promised her I’d wait up for you, to make sure you got home safe. Even told her I’d try to talk some sense into you. But between me and you? Sometimes talking doesn’t work, other methods have to be used” he ended up whispering, slowly, suspensefully, seductively.

Your hands shot up to his chest as you tried to push him away. “What the fuck are you going on about” you whimpered pathetically, desperately trying to push him away but he wouldn’t budge.

Lenny looked you dead in the eye. “Daddy needs to teach his baby girl a lesson” he stated with a confident nod.

“Mum!” you shrieked, your voice cracking in the process. You were freaking the hell out by this point as his hands moved down to grip onto your hips.

“It’s pointless, she’ll be out all night. But don’t let that stop you from screaming” he grinned as he yanked you away from the wall by your hips.

The first instinct was to run, but Lenny reacted quickly, his hand wrapped around your hair as he yanked you towards the chesterfield armchair. You sobbed out as he post-hasted you over his knee with him sitting comfortably on the seat.

“You’re such a bad girl. I noticed that the moment I saw you” he brought to light, this wicked smirk on his lips as he pulled up your dress, exposing your bare ass. His fingers traced over your cheap thong as you were whining against him, your body squirming around like a worm. “However, your mother outta be more thankful of you” he voiced, which caused your eyebrows to scrunch. “I never intended on a second date until I saw you” his confession caused you to sob heavily.

It was true, your mother was just going to be a easy fuck. But when he saw you, he knew that he had to have you. From there, his obsession only grew larger by each encounter. You didn’t know how badly he wanted you, needed you. Your bratty behavior only urged his primal needs harder. Your parents failed to control you, only he would be able to put you back in order.

“Lenny- Please!” you squealed out as he harshly smacked your rear.

“Correct my title” he ordered through a snarl.

“Daddy please!” You cried out, completely humiliated as you laid limply over his knee.

“Good girl” he praised as he smacked you again.

Over and over again he spanked you, you’d squirm here and there as you tried to take it like a good girl. Mentally, you were begging for it to be over and done with. The sooner it was done, the quicker you’d be able to pack up and run for the hills.

“I’ve wanted to teach you your place for so long” he groaned, his cock twitching at the redness of your cheeks. You sobbed silently as he admired you. “You know” he spoke softly as his hand gently caressed your burning skin. “Your mother told me how you always blamed her. But in reality, if your father wanted to take you with him, he would have. But clearly you were as much of a burden to him as your mother was” Lenny asserted emotionlessly. He knew nothing.

You thrashed your body underneath his hold. Lenny laughed as you were blubbering out, desperately trying to break free. He forcefully spanked you again to put your distraught movements to a stop.

“Don’t worry, daddy wants to take care of you” he promised you condescendingly as he pulled your body up onto his.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as you shuddered. The tent in his pants pressed up against your covered core and your skin trembled. Lenny kissed your flustered cheek, and then the other. The way he was praising your beauty made you feel sick to your stomach. Your stomach turned when you felt his body shift underneath you as his hands undid his belt.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me, you want this” he groaned as he stroked his hard length, the tip poking at your hidden pussy.

You mewled in response, there was no point in arguing with this barbarian. His fingers pushed your thong to the side to allow his tip to rest at your entrance. The irony was how dripping your cunt was despite how terrified you were.

As his thick cock slowly slid inside of your canal, he grunted at the sensation of you. You whined against his size as you pressed your face into the fabric of the chair. Roughly, Lenny picked up his pace, his fingertips dug deep into the flesh of your thighs.

“So, you wanna run off to college huh? Leave your mother’s home childless?” Lenny gritted his teeth.

“Yes daddy” you confessed shamefully.

Lenny grinned at your easy submission. His hands felt up your skin that he had so desperately wanted. You were moaning around his size, your eyes squeezed shut to hide how they were rolling back.

“You know, I never gave you your graduation present” Lenny smiled innocently. You didn’t know how to take it. “Oh how it would be a shame if her whore of a daughter got herself pregnant” he grunted, roughly holding your hips in place. The realization flashed before your eyes as you tried to push yourself off of him, but he kept you locked up on top of him.

“Daddy, no! Please!” You begged, crying like a baby on top of him as he continued to pound his length deep inside of you.

“Yep, a shame it would be. She’d have to stay home. Depend on her new daddy to look after her” he concluded the thought that would soon become your reality.

“Daddy please no, no, no” you continued, but it was all pointless. Lenny had already made up his mind long ago. Lenny gripped onto your cheeks and forced you to look at him.

“Yeah. Gonna fill you up, trap you with my child. Couldn’t fuck a baby into your mother even if I wanted to. You’re at the perfect age for breeding. Got the perfect body and what not. It won’t be hard to convince your mum that you’re just a fucking slut like she is” Lenny smiled to you, his sinsiter expression made him look like a complete different man. “Don’t worry, she won’t stay in the picture for much longer” he consoled, continuing to smack his balls against your outer skin as you felt your orgasm build up rapidly.

But she was the least of your concerns now.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #lenny miller x reader #lenny miller #anna 2019 #dark smut #smut

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sylveon-official · 2 months

Text

thoughts on angel's heartbreak

viv has already said that angel is gonna get his heart broken sooo

i imagine husk pushes a boundary. we've already seen husk push angel's limits quite a few times. he's obviously really judgmental and i think that's one of his biggest flaws. it almost seems like a defense mechanism, that because he's already given up on himself, he doesn't want to waste angel's potential and so he's harder on him.

we've got tons of examples of this in masquerade, with husk calling him fake. and even in welcome to heaven when angel is considering taking drugs, husk totally plays a guilt trip - "go ahead if you wanna mess up all your progress, i just thought you were better than that"

i think that's how the 'heartbreak' is gonna happen. angel can't believe he's got a someone like husk in his life and he's so smitten, coming to terms with his feelings for husk and tentatively getting hopeful that they're reciprocated. like husk has built him up enough to the point that angel feels he can break down his walls around him, so they're getting closer, more flirtatious in a really sweet way, sometimes even a little touchy.

so imagine them being at this stage, where angel so fully trusts him, which is a big deal for him. and then angel fucks up real bad. he's been clean for almost 6 months and him and everyone else in the hotel are super proud. but after a hard day in the studio he just breaks and goes on an all night bender. like he's out so late husk starts to worry and texts him, but all he gets is a belligerent phone call like "huskYYY BAaaby don' worry i'm jus' out w the girls from the studio u should be here miss yoo-" and then some guy cuts in like "angelbaby, i thought you were gonna show me a good time?" and angel's like "mmm oh ya cmere daddy~" and the call cuts off.

husk is fuckin pissed, not just bc angel is off the wagon after making so much progress, but he's also jealous. like they were obviously heading in the direction of something more, or so he thought, but here's angel back to his old self-destructive habits, getting fucked up and fucking random guys.

the next day, husk finds angel passed out on the on the couch. usually he would wake him up with breakfast or coffee if he knew he'd had a long night at the studio, but this time he just rolls his eyes and gets to work on the bar, maybe stuffing glasses back into cabinets a little louder than usual.

that wakes angel up and he's like, "huuusk what the fuck couldya keep it down?"

"it's almost noon. don't you have something to do? or someone..." he mumbles the last part, but angel hears and is wide awake like, "fuckin' excuse me?"

"what? you don't remember callin' me last night? sounded like you scored a real charmer"

angel is stalking up to the bar getting embarrassed and defensive, "wtf? since when do you care who i'm fuckin' in my free time?"

"i guess since it obviously wasn't a choice you made entirely sober! what were you thinking?! you were clean 6 whole months, and you gave it up to what? snort coke off of some hunk's abs?!"

angel's mouth drops open and he doesn't know what to say but his heart stings. he knows he fucked up real bad, but it was a hard day and he guesses old habits die hard... it's his first real attempt at getting clean, and of course he's disappointed in himself. and honestly, he was planning on talking through it with husk, but now...

"well that is just rich coming from you," angel says, shaking, rolling his eyes in the direction of husk's bloody mary.

"yeah, well, i'm not the one trying to get into heaven-"

"fuck off with that shit husk! you don't think i know i fucked up?! i'm not an idiot! you don't gotta keep that line in your back pocket for every time i screw up! i already know it's fuckin' pointless, you don't need to keep reminding me, asshole, get over yourself!" and he starts storming off upstairs, eyes welling up.

husk does feel guilty, and wants to continue the conversation, but he's still firmly of the belief that if angel just pulls himself together, he's a shoo-in for redemption and it's frustrating to see him self-destruct after making more progress than ever before.

"angel, wait-"

"NO, fuck you husk!" angel turns around, tears streaming down his face, pointing an accusing finger. "i thought if anyone could understand, it'd be you! i know everyone else is gonna be disappointed in me, but you-" he pauses, gulps down his tears and steels his face, "i guess i don't know you as well as i thought i did" and then storms upstairs.

then angel would have a few consecutive weeks of totally self-destructive behavior on a whole new level than anyone else at the hotel had ever seen. maybe he even moves out of the hotel and back in with val, having given up not only on himself and his grand delusions of getting clean and redeemed, but also his "stupid school-girl crush" on husk.

this turned into something way longer than i intended lol, but my point is that since angel is gonna experience heartbreak we know it has to involve husk, and with husk's habit of guilt-tripping angel... i think it will need to blow up at some point and be seriously discussed.

i also think we need to see the 'it gets worse before it gets better' side of recovery bc obviously it's unrealistic that now that angel is a serious resident of the hotel, his addictions are just gonna magically disappear. and i think that's gonna cause some misunderstanding and turmoil with not only husk, but also our main cast.

#hazbin hotel #huskerdust #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #angel dust x husk #husk x angel dust #writing #thoughts

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afeelgoodblog · 3 months

Text

The Best News of Last Week - January 15, 2024

🎊 - As we embark on another journey around the sun, I am thrilled to bring you the first newsletter of the year, packed with inspiring, informative, and sometimes downright amusing stories.

1. Marijuana meets criteria for reclassification as lower-risk drug

Marijuana has a lower potential for abuse than other drugs that are subjected to the same restrictions, with scientific support for its use as a medical treatment, researchers from the US Food and Drug Administration say in documents supporting its reclassification as a Schedule III substance.

2. South Korea passes law banning dog meat trade

The slaughter and sale of dogs for their meat is to become illegal in South Korea after MPs backed a new law. The legislation, set to come into force by 2027, aims to end the centuries-old practice of humans eating dog meat.

3. After 20 years in a tiny cage, these 'broken bears' are finally feeling the grass beneath their paws

These bears, termed "broken bears" due to physical and psychological trauma from years of abuse, are treated at the Tam Dao rescue center with individually tailored diets, physiotherapy, and medical care. The bear bile trade, which involves extracting bile for traditional Asian medicine, has been illegal in Vietnam since 2005, but a black market still exists.

4. France just got its first openly gay prime minister.

Gabriel Attal is France’s youngest-ever prime minister at age 34 and the first who is openly gay.

5. Australian ‘builders without borders’ repairing war-torn homes and schools in Ukraine

Manfred Hin, a 66-year-old builder from Townsville, Australia, spent most of 2023 volunteering in Ukraine to rebuild homes and schools damaged by Russian attacks. Having contributed to over 50 house and a dozen school renovations, he worked with Ukrainian charity Brave to Rebuild, mentoring young volunteers and sourcing three tonnes of donated tools.

Inspired by Hin's story, Tasmanian carpenter Hamish Stirling also joined the efforts, learning Ukrainian, traveling to Europe, and volunteering for three months to help rebuild homes.

6. The age-standardized death rate from cancer has declined by 15% since 1990

The age-standardized death rate from cancer declined by 15%

Cancer kills mostly older people – as the death rate by age shows, of those who are 70 years and older, 1% die from cancer every year. For people who are younger than 50, the cancer death rate is more than 40-times lower (more detail here).

7. Germany Reached 55% Renewable Energy in 2023

In 2023, 55 percent of Germany’s power came from renewables — an increase of 6.6 percent, according to energy regulator Bundesnetzagentur, reported Reuters. Europe’s biggest national economy has a goal of 80 percent green energy by 2030.

---

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation here:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog this post with your friends.

#best news of last week

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mo0nfairy · 1 year

Note

Bro when they remade the game of re4, Leon made me want to just....do anything for him. He's just- so- AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH.....You know? And thinking of him as a yandere made me giggle and kicking my feet

part 2. part 3. part 4.

tw :: yandere!leon, obsessive!leon, alcohol, kidnapping, drugging blood, being chained up, insinuations of suicide.

⸺ ommgggg !!! i've been playing the game bit by bit in my free time and im actively going batshit over this man. so here are some of my thoughts……………….

you met leon during the events of RE2 in raccoon city. you ever heard of scary dog privilege? that was basically him with you the entire night. your personal bodyguard, your guard dog. he saved your life over and over and over again until you both practically lost count. however, once you both survived the night and the sun arose, you went your separate ways (much to his dismay). law enforcement and the government were attempting to track down survivors, due to their theories of them having links with umbrella. you had absolutely nothing to do with it, obvi. so, to avoid it all, you vanished. and for 6 long, insufferable years, leon has lived without you. countless therapy sessions, solace in alcohol, and numerous partners who didn’t last longer than a month, nothing could make him forget you.

now (knowing your luck), you just so happen to be one of the missing hikers the police officers speak of in the very beginning of RE4. you were taking a daily stroll through the woods to meditate before you were kidnapped and brought into the los iluminados cult. fortunately for you, you managed to evade being infected. however, you have still spent the last week in sheer misery. running from the village-folk, dodging hidden bear-traps, and scavenging for any crumbs you could consume. you can only dream of the shower you'd take after this nightmare, where you can scrub your skin of the grime, blood, and god knows whatever substances have stained your form. you did befriend a lone wolf, however, so that's a plus!

leon just so happens to be in the same area you're in, only with intentions of saving the president's daughter. he had hoped that by becoming a secret agent, he would be able to manipulate the provided resources and find you. before he knows it, leon soon wakes with a gasp, finding his hands above his head and his wrists chained together. he yanks the chain down, only to hear a quiet voice whisper "hey, quit it!" that voice. leon springs to his feet and turns to verify his suspicions, the sudden movement behind you scaring you into doing the same. he gasps your name in disbelief, before he falls into awed silence while staring at you in complete captivation. you have no fucking idea how much he missed you. all these years of searching for you, dread satiated through him at the possibility of you being dead. leon knows in his heart he would not have the strength to live if you had truly been gone forever. but now, there are no worries. the light of his entire life is alive and by his side! exactly where they belong.

on your end, however, was a complete different story. that night 6 years ago was now an entire blur. umbrella had managed to hunt you down mere days after the event, drugging you with a variety of different remedies. their efforts succeeded and had caused you to almost completely forget that night. your brain has only been able to scrutinize the blood, the death, and the groaning and screaming of undead figures around you. weekly visits with your therapist are helping you disinter forgotten pieces, but leon wasn't present in any of these newfound memories. so, when this stranger whispers your name into the air and stares at you as if you had just descended from heaven itself, you aren’t able to connect the dots.

a smile, one that could rival the sun, breaks out on the face of the mysterious blonde. tears brim in his honeyed gaze. "oh, god. you have no fucking idea how happy i am to finally see you!” holding his hands out, he takes several long strides towards you to engulf you, to where you take several steps away from him.

"who the fuck are you?" his world shatters, "how do you know me? are you the one behind this shit?" your eyes are full of confusion and uncertainty. a major contrast to the look of heroism and gratitude you gazed at him with ages ago.

without another breath, leon pulls the chain towards him, causing you to spring forward. your wrists are tied above your head and your feet are practically dangling off the floor. there are now mere inches in between you and this man. and the look of sheer horror on his face is unforgettable.

"look at me…” his eyes feel like bullets stinging into you, tears spilling down his cheeks. “it- it's me, angel! it’s leon! leon scott kennedy, i worked in the RPD that night 6 years ago.” his breath hits your face as he desperately recounts the worst night of your life. “y/n, i saved your life. and you saved mine. don't you remember?"

leon’s hand cups your face, skin hovering over yours, almost as if he were afraid to fully touch you. his face scrunches up from the sobs racking through his body.

“don’t you know how much i still love you?”

you finally have the revelation that whoever this 'leon scott kennedy' is was with you that night in raccoon city. you also conclude that you are most definitely not getting away from him so easily.

n e ways.... i went wayyyy to overboard with this, but like i said, i've been having some THOUGHTS about re4 and our golden boy. also some other characters too, hehe…………

if you'd like to see more, pls don't be afraid to send some asks in !!

#*sighs dreamily again*#resident evil 4 #re4 #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #yandere leon kennedy #yandere resident evil #yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #venus’ brain #moonfairy

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moneymasnn · 7 months

Text

Who Had A Cookie?

Blurb: One where you're the f1 drivers manager, and when all the boys seem to have eaten a 'magic cookie' you're the one who needs to clean up all the mess.

Notes: I was inspired by the one greys anatomy episode lol but I thought this was a funny concept. This is also my first fic I’ve posted in 6 months!! I found it in my drafts and decided to post! Enjoy xx

Warnings: well mention of drugs, might be some swearing but other than that nothing lol Platonic!reader x f1 drivers and a little bit of reader x Charles leclerc

Who had the cookies?

You loved charity events, especially f1 charity events. You loved your job for giving you the opportunity to attend these events. A very easy night if you say so yourself, babysitting twenty grown men, what could go wrong? Especially when cameras and fancy investors are around they behave all on their own, leaving you to relax, and indulge in some free champagne.

“Y/n.” your name was mumbled behind you, startling you as your attention now shifted to your assistant.

You knew something was wrong by the way she was twiddling her fingers, her black nails contrast to her white dress as she brings her left index nail up to hold between her teeth.

“Jenny? Spit it out.” You stood up straight, urging your assistant.

She stands up straight as if she's trying to muster up some sort of courage, she looks around before she leans in closer to you, you can almost hear her shaky breaths.

“There were some cookies… and erm, well they were placed in the drivers dressing room, and I don’t know how they got there. I mean, I certainly didn’t sign them off so this is no way my fault and-“ she was talking a mile a minute you couldn't even understand her.

“Jenny!” You took her hands that were waving in the air and bought them back down to her chest.

“Take a deep breath and tell me what’s wrong?” you said sternly.

“Don’t fire me… please.” You could see the tears brimming in her eyes, but the anticipation was killing you, you windened your eyes and stayed quiet so she could carry on.

“There were compromised cookies gifted to the driver's dressing room.”

“And?”

“And- and now the tin is empty, as in they've all gone. The cookies have been eaten y/n. Cannabis cookies.”

Your hands ran to your mouth as your eyes immediately darted around the room to look for anything out of the ordinary.

The room was spinning as you whipped your neck around in different directions.

George russel was the first to catch your attention.

He looked fine…he was leaning against a wall, chewing…

He was chewing on a cookie.

“Oh my god.” You started to push through the crowd of people in the hall.

“George! Drop that cookie!”

George’s eyes lit up when he saw you, one of his many managers. You could see the cookie crumbs falling from his mouth as he smiled, chocolate smudged around the corners of his lips.

“Y/n, you have to try these cookies!” He desperately said, holding up his half eaten cookie. But much to his dismay you slapped it out of his hand, letting it fall right to the floor. George’s lips downturned and your name fell in a groan from his lips as he looked at his cookie on the floor.

“Spit.” You held your hand out, as gross as it was.

“I will not!” He sassed you as you pointed your finger at him, eyebrows furring trying to be as intimidating to the six foot man as possible. George sent you one of his signature smirks as he swallowed the mouthful of cookie in one large gulp.

“George, those are not regular cookies-“

“Tell me about it! Send from the heavens.” he smiled, almost robotic, like the smile didn't reach his eyes.

Your own eyes widened as you realised one of your clients was stoned.

Completely and utterly stoned.

You were fucked.

You could feel Jenny breathe behind you, she let out a small giggle at George's actions causing you to turn and scowl at her.

“Grab him and take him to the dressing room, and don’t let him talk to anyone. lock him in there and then come back to help me gather anyone else who had had a cookie.”

She nodded as she grabbed George’s arm, telling him they were going on an adventure, George happily complying.

You sighed as you looked for anyone else.

You were at a very high class charity gala in Monaco. This night was about to be ruined and you were about to be fired for letting your drivers get out of control and well, high.

You decided making an announcement on the stage was your best bet, walking through the crowds of people you felt someone grab your arm.

“Y/n!” Lando Norris.

He giggled as he said your name. Making him repeat himself.

“Y/nnnnnn.” He covered his mouth to stop the giggles. “Sorry, just, why does your name sound so weird?”

You had to try so hard to keep your face straight at the boy's child like giggles.

“Why are you laughing like that?” Carlos walked over, playing his arm over his wobbly ex teammate.

“Carlos!” you and lando both said in unison.

“Your hair is so soft, like fur.” Lando said as his hands made their way into Carlos's long brown locks. Carlos eyes widen as he looks at the boy then back at you, trying to pull Landos hands out of his hair.

“Carlos, did you have a cookie?” You eyed up the Spaniard.

“What cookie?” He frowned at you.

“Ugh, thank god! Landos had a erm.” You leaned into him so no one around would hear, “Some of the drivers have eaten cannabis laced cookies.”

Carlos’ head turned as he looked back at Lando, eyes widening.

“Take him back to the dressing room please, just lock him in there with George, and if you see anyone else take them with you.”

Carlos just nodded, letting his mate lean on him as he dragged him to the back of the room.

You let out a sigh of relief, that was three out of a possible twenty.

Only seventeen more to find.

You walked up to the stage, grabbing the mic, tapping it slightly.

“Hello, everyone. I hope everyone is having a good night, erm, could all formula one drivers that have eaten a cookie this afternoon please meet back in the dressing room, important meeting. Thank you.” You smiled at the crowd, you could hear the whispers as you stopped off the stage.

“Y/n?”

Max.

“I had a cookie, and I don't feel too good, like - like i'm not here, i've been over there.” He pointed to the corner of the room, “and I thought I was dreaming y/n. I dont know whats happening to me?” He looked panicked as he clutched onto your upper arm.

“You're okay max, you had some magic cookies.”

“Magic cookies?”

“Just come with me okay?”

He nodded his head vigorously as he followed you though the crows, clutched to your hand like a toddler.

You noticed Daniel on the way, opting to grab him too.

“Danny!”

“Hello.” he had, in a very nonchalant tone, unlike his bubbly self. He was definitely stoned.

“Are you okay?”

“I feel great.” he smiled, but his eyes didn't quite catch up to him.

You grabbed his arm and dragged him along with max.

“Y/n? Where are we going?” Max asked anxiously.

“To sit down.”

You dragged them both into the room, when you got in there you could see George sat curled up on the window seal, lance was sat back against the wall staring at the floor. Seb was giggling at Mick who had all of a sudden become hyper aware of his body, saying he could feel his ‘skin’.

Pierre was touching his face in the mirror while Yuki was at the snack table.

You let out a relieved sigh as Jenny had managed to capture some of the drivers, a few turning up after hearing your announcement.

“Okay boys go play.” You pushed Daniel and Max into the room.

“Dan, dan, danny, daniel.” Pierre called Daniel over to the mirror. “Why don't I look like me?” Pierre asked daniel.

Pierre gasped and turned to a very relaxed Daniel, placing his hands on his shoulders.

“Daniel, do you think I look weird?” Panicked.

“Coolllll.” Daniel replied as he smiled straight though pierre.

“You're right, I'm too cool to care.” Pierre nodded and turned back to the mirror to straighten out his shirt.

“This room is full of some very… high men.” Seb looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“Seb? Please tell me-”

“I didn't. Don't worry. I'm watching my weight.” he winked at you. “I'm happy to look after these guys while you get the others?”

You replied a quick thank you as you quickly shut the door, bolting back into the hall. Then you realised, opening the door back open and peering through,

Where were Lando and carlos?

You rushed back out, looking down the bottom of the hallway, choosing to search the rest of the building, you came to the fire escape stairs where you found a curled up charles rocking back and forward.

“Charlie?” you gently called out as you crouched down next to him, placing a hand on his knee.

“Y/n?” He quietly replied.

“It's me, it's just me. How are you feeling?” you gently asked him.

“I- i don't know, i've never felt like this before.” He said raising his head, his eyes bloodshot and skin pale, he had a cookie.

You smiled at him as you brushed his fallen hair back from his forehead.

“You're going to be alright, come with me okay?”

You pulled him up to his feet where he looked down at you, sniffing before a little smile climbed his face.

“You're so pretty y/n.” You giggled at the boy as you took his hand and made your way down the steps to the drivers room.

“Like a princess.” he added, his hands waving in the air.

“Thank you, charlie.” you giggled.

“Charlie,” he smiled, “have i ever told you how much i love it when you call me that, charlie.” he smiled and repeated the nickname again, leaning his head on your shoulder as you both made your way down the stairs.

Charles lightly sighed as you pushed him into the drivers room, “Where are you going?” Charles whispered, pulling on your arm.

“I'll be back in five minutes okay, Seb will look after you.”

Charles nodded his head to look for seb, you both grimace when you saw mick with his head in the trash can, seb rubbing his back as pierre and yuki giggle at him in the corner.

You walked back out the room when Jenny was running up to you, “Y/n! Huge problem, Carlos and Lando are on the stage!”

Ou barge past her and walk into the room to see Carlos with a mic in his hand, Lando leaning into him in fits of laughter.

“All I'm saying is, I race really fast cars, like that's super cool, right? There's only twenty of us that do that. So cool, im so cool, im a cool guy.'' Carlos giggled as he spoke about himself on stage.

“You could die? I could die? Imagine that! The world would be so sad, my smooth operator.” Lando giggled at the nickname and then started to sing.

And before you knew it they were two verses deep into smooth operator, Carlos opting to show off his opera skills at one point.

You jumped on the stage taking the mic out of Carlos' hands and putting your hand over it so you could whisper shout in his ear, “You said you didn't have any cookies!”

Carlos snickered as he looked at Lando who gasped and held his hand over his mouth.

“You lied to y/n?” Lando giggled. “Oh man you're in so much trouble.” Landos face dropped as he leaned into carlos’ face, “she looks mad, we should probably run.”

Carlos nodded along with the boy when you grabbed both of their arms, “Nope. No more running, you're coming with me.”

Carlos shook his head like a caught child and both men giggled as you pushed them off the stage, apologising to the crowd before handing the mic back to the dj.

“Y/n!”

You sighed as your name was called for about the fifth time that night, this time though, it was serious.

Zac Brown made his way over to the three of you, a scowl on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. Lando straightened his posture as Carlos crossed his arms and impersonated Zac, Lando caught onto this and all of a sudden the boys were in crying fits of laughter again. You winced as Landos cackle echoed through the hall, catching the attention of people around.

“What. The. Hell?”

“I can explain.” you winced at the man.

“What is going on here?” He eyed up his driver and ex driver, who he presumed had too much to drink.

“They're high. Someone laced some cookies and I'm so sorry, I have the situation under wraps, they won't be a problem anymore.”

But when Zac started to laugh along you realised maybe it wasn't just some of the drivers who had had some cookies.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” You grabbed Zac as well as Lando and Carlos and dragged them back to the dressing room.

“Y/n, Your back!” Charles made his way over to you, engulfing you into a hug.

“Y/ns back!” Max screamed as he fell off the sofa, plunging his way into your arms along with charles.

“Hey get off her, she's my manager!” Max shoved Charles hand that was loosely placed on your shoulder.

“She's mine too!”

While the two men started to fight over your attention you scanned the drivers that were in the room. Jenny had managed to catch the majority and even some of the drivers that weren't high had opted to help.

Max shoved Charles in hopes he would let go of you, instead causing you to stumble back into the arms of someone else.

“Okay okay, we get it, she's pretty but you're suffocating her, and she won't be very pretty when she's dead on the floor.” a spanish accent can be heard behind you.

Fernando unwrapped both men as they both started to profusely apologise about ‘nearly killing you.’

You rubbed your hand over your head after smiling at Fernando in a thank you as he sent Charles and Max to the food table.

“You look stressed.” he said with a smirk as you both watched the men in the room.

“I need a cookie.” you joked, your eyes on mick who was still throwing up.

“I could always make you some.” he shrugged.

You laughed at the man before your eyes widened in realisation, you turned to him, face like thunder, “You!”

He threw his hands up in the air, “In my defence i didn't mean for anyone to eat them. It was a total accident.”

Your mouth agape you turned to look at the Spaniard ready to scream every curse word you know. He sensed your anger, “it was an honest mistake y/n, trust me. You think I would have wasted all of them cookies on these people on purpose.”

Your eyes darted daggers and Fernando understood you were really mad, in an attempt to lighten the mood he pointed at Yuki and Pierre who were having the time of their lives giggling like two school girls in the corner.

“You have to admit, it is kinda funny,” he said.

A smile crept on your face as you giggled, it was kinda funny.

Yours and Fernandos giggling soon stopped when you saw Max and Checo arguing in the corner.

“I think Max is about to punch Checo for taking the last slice of pizza.” you said.

“Shit.”

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cryonme · 1 year

Text

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐀𝐭 𝐔𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

—graham dunne x fem!reader

—summary: the story of you and graham dunne was never simple, but his love for you never faltered.

— word count: 2.7k

—tw: addiction, implied drugging, alcohol, cursing, reader says she "doesn't wanna be here anymore", very obvious signs of mental illness, the works...

—a/n: so... I did not intend for this fic to be this long or this sad, but here we are. I'm breaking it into two parts so its easier to read, part two is coming shortly!! I apologize for how sad this is lol but I promise its a happy ending story! also, sorry for how I wrote daisy! she's my girl and I love her, it was just for the plot I swear! this is the first fic I've posted in about 6 months so im rusty, please be kind! and please, don't read if anything listed in the triggers is going to upset you, I want you all happy and comfortable! XO

(flashbacks in italics)

Nothing was ever Daisy’s fault, was it?

At least, that’s what Graham Dunne thought when he got a call from Karen saying his girl was wasted at a party with Daisy attached to your hip.

She should have known what you were struggling with, she should have known that you couldn’t handle a party, she should have known this wasn’t what you needed. Daisy Jones should’ve fucking known.

To be completely fair, they really all should’ve known. You’d been around since day 1. Everyone knew better, Daisy just happened to be the red corvette.

“You can’t keep doing this, my love.” Camilla whispered oh so gently, holding your hair back from your face, pressing a cold rag to your neck.

It was a small gig, at some shitty bar called Tony’s in Pittsburgh. The band always had a couple beers and maybe a shot or two before a show but you had begun to need more. You snuck vodka into your water bottles and begged the bartenders to sneak you a couple free extras by pulling your top down and leaning over the bar, using your forearms to push your tits up.

It worked every time. Pigs.

“Can do whatever I want.” You slurred, cheek pressed to the toilet seat.

But damnit, you knew she was right.

Tony’s wasn’t the first time.

There was Rod’s, and The Ladie’s Room, and The Shiner Saloon, and some girl named Lisa’s 18th birthday party. It was becoming a pattern, everyone could tell.

You always went back to your house after a show. Your parents had been completely absent since you were 15, you never knew where they were. And after every show, their cars were never once in the driveway.

A safespace.

Billy would sit outside of the bathroom, head leaning against the door while Graham waited in the living room, arms crossed and head down, not wanting to listen to your cries and shakes of pain.

Eddie would retreat to the guest room, but he usually wouldn’t be able to fall asleep til he heard the click of your door next to his.

Warren would be passed out on the couch as soon as you all walked through the door, not that he didn’t care about you immensely, but the poor kid could just not stay awake if he was tired.

“I wanna go to bed.” You said.

Camilla sighed, “Are you sure you’re ready?”

You nodded and so did Camilla. She got up to get Billy like she always did, and he’d come and pick you up off of the bathroom floor, as he always did, and carry you to your room and lay you on the bed, letting Camilla make sure you’re comfortable, like she always did.

Graham would come in and ask how you’re doing, like he always did, and he’d make himself comfortable on your floor with throw pillows and spare blankets, like he always did.

But that night, after Tony’s, things changed.

“I can’t do this anymore, Graham.” You whimpered.

Fuck.

This was early days, Graham was still awkward as hell and didn’t know how to go about things like this.

“Do what?” He croaked, mustering up the courage to be there for you.

“This. I can’t live like this. I’m afraid I’m gonna kill myself.”

Graham was up in an instant, reaching for the doorknob. “Do you want me to get Camilla?”

You shook your head, “No, please. Just-” You wiped a tear from your cheek, “Will you just lay with me?”

“Anything.” Graham breathed as he settled into bed next to you. You immediately wrapped your arms around him, being too drunk to care about any awkwardness and Graham was thankful.

“We’ll get you out of this, promise.”

That was the last time anybody saw you drink anything besides a beer or two, following that was shirley temples and cherry cokes.

Nobody really knew the heaviness of addiction then, but they knew that you were happier, and that’s all that really mattered to them. You were even laughing at Warren’s jokes and Billy and Eddie’s lame bickering, everything felt okay.

“You don’t drink?” Karen had asked, the first time you properly met in California, while she was digging through the fridge searching for a beer. You shook your head, hoping you weren’t going to get some crazy reaction like you were a zoo animal in a cage like you got from most people.

She just nodded, a small smile playing at her lips as she pulled two coca cola bottles from the fridge, popping them open with her ring and handing you one.

“Cheers to that.”

You were sober enough to realize you were in love with Graham, and confident enough to tell him. And man, he could’ve exploded.

There was a celebration, at the house in Laurel Canyon, just the 7 of you.

Warren recalls later that Graham looked like he’d been dipped in sunshine and rainbows.

“Like he’d just smoked sunshine and been fucked by a rainbow. It was crazy, man.”

Well, almost.

You’d been around the band multiple times while they drank and it was never a problem. You’d have the first round of beers with them then tap out, but you always stayed and had fun, smoked a couple joints and cigarettes, never without a mocktail or coca cola in your hand. Sometimes, usually Karen or Camilla, someone would join you on the sober night, and that always felt really nice.

That night had felt different, you were scared.

“I’m gonna fuck him up Warren…” You said as you laid on the floor with the drummer as Down By The Seaside by Led Zeppelin played from the record player, Warren laughed.

“Yeah you are.” He said, his tone suggestive as he bumped his elbow with yours.

You rolled your eyes, fighting the heat creeping into your cheeks. “You know what I mean, man. I’m gonna ruin him.”

Warren had known you long enough and listened to enough of the songs you wrote to where he’d like to think he knew you pretty well.

And you never opened up out of the blue unless you were drunk.

“Have you been drinking?” He asked, not looking up from the ceiling. You scoffed.

“I still have a beer here and there, Warren.”

“You know what I mean, man.” He repeated your words back to you and you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“I’m going to bed.” You said and stood up, trying your hardest not to stumble or slur.

“Honey…” Warren started, pushing himself off of the floor to try to stop you.

“NO!” You whipped around, flipping your hair so forcefully it stung your face but you were quick to pull it back.

“Don’t fucking- don’t fucking do that, man!” You started, holding a hand up. “My own friends don’t even fucking trust me i’m just constantly babied! Do you know how that feels?”

At that point, Karen, Eddie and Billy had tuned in, being in the kitchen. Camilla and Graham must have been elsewhere, he had always confided in her like a sister.

“Hey–” Billy tried to interject with a hand on your wrist but you were quick to pull away.

“Huh?! Do any of you know how that feels?!” You were borderline screaming now, and everyone was speaking to you so softly, hands slowly trying to grasp you and it made you want to scream even louder.

“How dare you ‘ccuse me of something like that asshole?” You were beginning to slur your words, the tequila you’d snuck from Warren’s room starting to hit pretty heavily, making your eyes droop and words slur.

“Baby, please-” Karen started, making the move to grasp your arm but you turned and lost your balance, nearly falling but Eddie was quick to catch you, he held on tight and didn’t dare let go until you calmed down or Graham came back. Billy had left minutes ago to find him and Camilla, who had taken a walk so he could freely gush about his new girl without the chances of anyone else hearing.

“Need you to calm down, babe.” Eddie whispered, running a hand up and down your arm for comfort.

“None of you even care!”

Warren shook his head alongside Karen, both of them had squatted in front of you, doing their best to provide what you needed.

“That’s not true.”

“I fucking hate you all!”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t wanna be here anymore!”

And then he said your name.

You froze.

He was gonna leave you, you were so sure of it. You worked so hard to be better for him and it didn’t work.

“No…” You whimpered and you swore you saw Graham break in front of your eyes.

“You can’t- you can’t see this.”

But he didn’t care. He knelt in front of you and Eddie and gathered you into his own arms, completely silent as he carried you to his room and you wanted to disappear into him so badly.

“‘M so sorry…” You slurred, and still he was quiet. You let him undress you and replace your pretty top and flared jeans with his own tee shirt and boxer shorts.

You watched as he changed into a similar outfit as you picked at your nails. “Graham, I-”

He sighed and placed his hands on either sides of your cheeks, placing a firm kiss on your forehead that only made you cry harder. You brought your hands up to grip his wrists, not willing to let go of the feeling of his lips on your skin.

“I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?”

Graham was silent again as he pulled you into his bed with him, covering you both with the large duvet.

“Not in the slightest.”

That night was really the last night anybody had seen you get drunk like that.

Then, Daisy Jones came along.

And you learned how to keep bad habits a secret.

Tequila and mints in the bathroom, water and cherry cokes with the band. A shot of jameson to fall asleep. Champagne to wake up, brush your teeth. A beer in the shower after lunch, leave the evidence in Warren’s room since there were hundreds of empty ones anyway.

It’s not like Daisy was teaching you one on one, you just started watching her, and you liked the way she got away with it.

No one told Daisy about your issue either, you could hold your own and you had asked them not to, so lips were sealed.

But it took everything in Graham and Billy not to tell her to tread lightly every time they saw the two of you sneak off on your own.

And now here was Graham Dunne, sitting in the driver's seat of the van outside of God knows who’s house, with Camilla in the passenger’s seat and Billy in the back. Moral support.

“Want us to come with you?”

Graham shook his head. “I need to do this alone.”

Billy scoffed, “I’m not gonna let you go in there with our two hot headed alcoholic rage sisters. Cam, you stay here.”

“Nope, you go I go. You two get our girl, I’ll handle Daisy.”

The three bickered a moment but finally settled on their plan. Graham and Camilla would take you, while Karen and Billy took Daisy, since the blonde girl drove.

“Fucking finally.” Karen exasperated as she saw her friends walk into the backyard of the party while trying her hardest to hold you upright.

“Where is Daisy?” Billy spat immediately, making eyes around the party. You had always been like a sister to him, in the way Camilla was to Graham, and he could’ve killed the redheaded girl in that moment.

“Beats me.” Karen said, passing off your deadweight into Graham, who was quickly supported by Billy. Your head lulled onto your boyfriend's shoulder, recognizing him as a source of comfort even in your inebriated state.

It made his soul ache.

“Is Simone here?” Camilla asked.

Karen shook her head, “Was. Split as soon as she and Daisy got into a fight. Offered to take this one” she nodded her head at you “home with her but I figured it’d be best if you guys came.”

Graham shook his head, “You made the right call, thank you.”

“Yeah, well uh, I sure as hell can’t drive. Got drunk as hell before even stepping foot in the backyard, soon as I saw (Y/n) I stepped in and called you guys immediately.”

“Do we need to get Daisy?”

“That’s a fight you sure as hell don’t wanna have. Yelled at me just for taking ‘her best friend’ away from her to get her some water.”

Billy rolled his eyes.

Graham and Billy began making their way out of the party with you slung around their shoulders, and Camilla walking arm in arm with a very drunk Karen who kept tripping over feet.

And suddenly red hair and sparkling eyes were in front of them.

“Ohhh no, what happened to my girl?” She tried to touch your face but Billy pulled you away, ready to say something before Graham spoke up, surprising everyone.

“Your girl, Daisy?!” His voice boomed, no doubt you’d be embarrassed if you were in any way conscious. “This is my girl, our girl.” He gestured to the rest of the group. “And I’d say it’s in your best interest to leave her the hell alone from now on.”

Graham was a mess when he got you home.

Daisy ended up at the house not too long after the rest, explaining she didn’t know the situation, apologizing profusely, informing them all you had been drinking for months. She told them in a sullen voice that you hadn’t been this bad last time she saw her, that she thinks someone must have done it to you.

Graham understood, he did. But he couldn’t look at Daisy. How could she let you out of her sight, to allow someone to do this to you? It made his stomach turn. Billy was next to his brother this time, in the living room, a hand resting on his shoulder, squeezing from time to time, and instead of standing Graham sat with his head in his hands, creating knots in his hair as he ran his fingers through it. Cam and Karen had you in the bathroom, after seeing the panic in Graham’s eyes they decided to take over that part, knowing it wouldn’t be easy for him to see. Warren stayed up, and Eddie didn’t retreat to his room, Daisy paced back and forth outside of the bathroom, biting her nails. Graham could hear it, it was driving him nuts.

“Would it kill you to be quiet for two seconds, Daisy?!” He groaned, running a hand over his red splotchy face.

Everyone knew that Graham was just upset and taking it out on Daisy, the red corvette, which wasn’t exactly fair, but they also knew better than to argue with Graham at that point.

“You know what, Graham?!” Daisy stomped into the living room, planting herself in front of the Dunne brothers with her arms crossed.

Graham didn’t look up.

“Hey, I’m talkin’ to you!” Daisy used her thumb and pointer finger to grip his chin and pull his face up to look at her and she immediately felt guilty at his tear stained cheeks and glassy eyes.

She sighed, and crouched before him.

“I know it’s hard, and I’m so, so sorry this is happening to her. But she makes her own decisions, Graham. No one could’ve stopped her.”

Graham nodded, but still wouldn’t look in her direction. “Will you go check on her, please?”

Daisy would later tell the story with a frown on her face, and she’d recall never being that scared for another person before, despite the smile she put on for Graham.

“I didn’t-” She took a breath, “I’d never seen it that bad before, at least not while I was sober. I thought she was going to die.”

Daisy retreated to yours and Graham’s shared room shortly after discovering she couldn’t stomach staying in that bathroom, deciding to make herself useful by getting the bed ready, fluffing the pillows and retrieving some fresh clothes for you to wear to bed, making sure she grabbed ones that smelled like your boyfriend. She dropped the clothes off in the bathroom, and passed along the message to Graham from Karen and Camilla that it was time to take you to bed.

This had been Billy’s job, since before The Six was even The Six, that’s how it went. But things had changed, Graham had grown, and it was his turn.

part two coming soon!

#graham dunne x reader #graham dunne imagine #graham dunne #daisy jones and the six #daisy jones and the six fanfic #warren rojas #eddie roundtree #billy dunne #daisy jones #karen sirko #karen karen #warren rojas x reader #eddie roundtree x reader #billy dunne x reader #simone jackson

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ohnococo · 3 months

Text

Fight Night | CHAPTER 4 | MMA Fighter!Sukuna x Reader

“Further down the hall to the right if you want to find yourself a drink though.” Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. Something about the way he leans back onto his hands and sets his mouth into a line, brows rising as his eyelids lower, makes it feel like a test rather than a genuine offer. You consider taking the offer nonetheless, maybe clearing out something nice from whatever alcohol he had to make up for him wasting your time getting dressed up just to stand here feeling like he was playing some game with you without explaining the rules, or the goal.

Two months after you last closed the door on your "situation" with Sukuna, he sends you a message.

Notes: There's a tone shift here, and some development of reader i.e. explicitly stated hobbies.

Warnings: Oral sex (giving and receiving), deep throating, fingering, vaginal sex, manhandling, rough sex, ruined orgasm, creampie

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

You hated how much you’d dreamt of him texting you again. It felt pathetic, dreaming of a text. At least in your other dreams about him you’d suddenly find yourself in the middle of a club, dancing, his hands hot on your body, stirring you up even though in reality you were very much alone under your covers. But just a text would have you waking up with an uneasy churn in your stomach.

Just like the one you have now, but that second of wondering if it was actually happening is overtaken by the excitement that yes, it was. You even do a double take, thinking you might have imagined what was on the notification that had popped up, brightening your screen and presenting you with that little “👹👑” that had last left you giddy two months ago.

Then, you open your phone and actually read the message.

You free right now?

You roll your eyes, annoyed at his usual lack of formality. No hey, no how are you, no long time no see, just asking if you were free. It annoyed you even further that he couldn’t throw a little sugar on his first contact after months. You roll your eyes again as you begin typing your response, trying to stomp down the butterflies fluttering in your stomach despite him being straight to the point as always.

I thought you had to keep clean for 6 months?

When he’d told you that you took it as him saying that, at best, you two wouldn’t see each other until after his next fight, after all the random drug tests were out of the way and he was able to party with you like before. It was either that or what you’d come to accept was the far more likely scenario, which was him forgetting about you in that time, having found a new woman to party with the exact same way he’d found you. Here he was though, 4 months out from his next fight and texting you. Responding within a minute as well, to your shock as your phone lights up again just seconds after you’d locked it.

are you coming not?

You imagine the annoyed sigh that had preceded his message and smile as another one comes immediately. This time, it’s an address.

As you look it up you’re surprised to find it’s not some club, it’s a neighbourhood. A nice one. An area filled with giant gated houses, spanish style architecture with just a splash of McMansion flair, and uncomfortably uniform topiaries. Maybe it was a house party. Maybe it was a party at his house.

Another message comes through.

im free after 2

You’re more confused than before. 2? In the afternoon? You can’t even wrap your head around what kind of pre-gaming Sukuna had in mind to be meeting up so early, but you weren’t exactly going to say no. You never did when it came to him, especially not when you’d gone without as long as you’d gone with.

see you then

When you step out of your Uber you find that the house is just as big as you’d expected. He’d spent enough on your nights out for you to know by now that he had money to burn, but as you make your way up to the door in your heels you can’t help but think about how your own place could fit in the driveway alone.

Once you get to the front door you take a peek through the large accent windows on either side, seeing how spacious the house was just from the little view you could get. Then you ring the doorbell, tucking your small clutch under your arm to tug your dress down your legs a little as you wait for an answer.

The door opens and you’re unsurprised that the person answering is Uraume, though they do seem very surprised to see you.

“Why are you here?”

You’d learned not to take their brusqueness personally during the encounters you’d had with them since the first one. You’d figured that shared trait was why they got along with Sukuna so well.

“Sukuna said to come over after 2.”

Their eyes narrow. “And he asked you to come here?”

Heavy steps approach from the large, brightly lit hall just visible from where you were waiting at the door. Uraume stops, looking back as Sukuna appears. You’re surprised to see him out of his usual clubbing attire, no slacks, no expensive leather shoes, no button up straining over his musculature, not even a flashy chain around his neck or watch somehow large enough to be ostentatious on even his frame. Instead he’s in tight boxer briefs and nothing else, with a towel over his shoulder to catch the drips coming off of his wet hair.

“What’s the problem, Uraume?”

“I didn’t know you were expecting someone.” Any trace of shock or confusion that had been on Uraume’s face isn’t present in their voice as they speak to him, but apparently Sukuna senses it nonetheless.

“Do I need to tell you about every single person I bring into my own home?”

“Of course not.” Uraume steps back and opens the door wider, giving you space to enter. They close the door behind you and turn to Sukuna, giving a deep nod that borders on bowing before leaving towards what you presumed was the kitchen due to the distant sound of an extractor fan.

“Thank you, Uraume.” There’s annoyance there, but it’s a thanks nonetheless.

Sukuna looks you up and down, and somehow his expressionless appraisal is more intimidating despite having dealt with it several times before. You don’t want to hear it, not when you were still trying to figure out what exactly was going on tonight.

He can’t be stopped though, “I can always count on you to get all dressed up for me.”

Then, he’s tilting his head towards the hallway he’d previously emerged from, gesturing for you to follow as he walks off before you can respond, forcing you to catch up with his long stride in your heels. As you walk just behind him you glance into the rooms as you pass, finding them either blindingly bright due to the floor to ceiling windows, or incredibly dark with only the sunlight from the skylights above the hall illuminating them.

You’re half expecting him to take you to some room with a built in bar and all his entourage pre-gaming. Or pre- pre- gaming at this hour, maybe, but when you finish the walk through his halls and reach your destination you find that it’s just his bedroom. To your surprise, this room falls into the category of “blindingly bright” and the high ceilings and cold tile floors would leave it feeling sterile if it weren’t for the things filling it. Dark wood furniture, warm toned bedding, and monstrous looking masks above his bed not dissimilar to the little emoji you had in your phone representing him.

As he disappears into his walk-in closet for a moment you think you know what he’s getting at now, a party before the party, and you’re a little embarrassed at how your body is already responding to the thought of it.

Then… you’re just confused again as he re-emerges fully dressed in grey sweatpants and a tight white t-shirt - attire very much the opposite of what you were in. He says nothing, sitting on the edge of his bed and looking at you expectantly.

You swallow thickly, looking at him, “Well…”

Something about standing in front of him while he just stares silently has you suddenly feeling self-conscious about getting dropped off at a rich man’s house in the middle of the day, in tight clothes and makeup meant for dim lighting no less. On your nights out you could fool yourself into thinking you were on equal footing - or at least that there wasn’t such a gulf between the two of you as you blended seamlessly into his entourage. Here though, with just the two of you and no distractions, you feel very small in his big, big house. You feel small in front of him.

“Well?” He parrots you, undoubtedly taunting you with that glint in his eye. Your annoyance at that tone and at how it makes your pussy respond pushes you to finally form your confusion into words.

“So what are we doing then?”

He looks at you like you’re stupid, like he hasn’t been vague as hell like he always was, expecting you to be able to read his moves as he makes them. “Hanging out.”

“Hanging out?”

He raises his brows and tilts his head like it’s obvious, like he shouldn’t have to repeat himself.

“Just me… and you… and Uraume?”

A dismissive hand waves in the air, “Uraume is just finishing my meal prep, then they’re leaving.”

“Are we going out tonight?”

“I’ve got training at 5 tomorrow, and when I’m clean I’m clean.”

You cross your arms, scoffing at your inability to get an actual answer out of the man and getting a little sick of it. When your little display of petulance draws a chuckle from him you click your heel against the tiled floor, hoping it would distract from whatever tell you might have that his laugh alone was already turning you to putty in his hands.

“Further down the hall to the right if you want to find yourself a drink though.”

Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. Something about the way he leans back onto his hands and sets his mouth into a line, brows rising as his eyelids lower, makes it feel like a test rather than a genuine offer. You consider taking the offer nonetheless, maybe clearing out something nice from whatever alcohol he had to make up for him wasting your time getting dressed up just to stand here feeling like he was playing some game with you without explaining the rules, or the goal.

But… you don’t really feel like drinking if he isn’t. So you slip off your heels, deciding that you weren’t going to be uncomfortable in them at least, toss your small clutch onto his bed, and sit down next to him.

“Meal prep, training at the crack of dawn, not even one little drink… you’re really serious about this whole fighting thing, I guess.”

He looks irritated for a moment, but amused nonetheless. “I have been the reigning champion for 6 years, you know.”

You lean back onto your elbows, crossing your legs and looking up at him, trying your best not to give away that you already knew that.

“And 3 years before that at my last organisation.”

You knew that too, and that he’d been banned from there for fighting dirty. You knew a lot more about him since you’d last seen him, having watched what clips of his fights you could find. He was impressive, worthy of being as cocky as he was, worthy of all the starry eyed reactions he’d get on your nights out.

“That’s cool.” His brow raises and you go on, feeling the need to assure him that you weren’t being sarcastic with him for once, “it’s nice to have something you’re passionate about.”

His expression goes blank, and you’re beginning to realise when he’s indifferent and when he’s trying to look indifferent - that subtle distinction between him peering into you and looking through you.

“What are you passionate about?” You think he might be genuinely interested. “Other than getting fucked up.” You think he’s pretending he isn’t.

“Um…” you have a brief moment of suddenly remembering nothing you’ve ever done or liked just because you’ve been asked, and the smallest twitch of a smile forms at the corners of his lips before he seems to decide to throw you a bone, just this once.

“What are your hobbies?”

Your mind is still drawing a blank, but you’re more able to continue, feeling like talking about what you like feels a little easier than explaining something you were as passionate about as 6 Year Reigning Champion Ryomen ‘The King’ Sukuna was about fighting. “I like reading, playing video games… uh…”

It’s weird having a conversation with him. Not that you hadn’t before, but they were always dripping with innuendo, banter dipped in tension and implication acting to fill the gaps between drinks and drugs and fucking. Conversations containing questions like ’What do you do for work?’ followed up with ‘you don’t have some sugar daddy waiting for you to come pay him a visit tonight, right?’

Now there’s another kind of tension here, one that Sukuna cuts with his usual playful bite, “So you’re a bookworm and a nerd?”

Sitting back up, you open your mouth, ready to lash an equally sharp remark back to him, but he’s stopping you in your tracks with his next words.

“Cute.”

He’s said it before, several times, but it always had that curt tone in it, clearly broadcasting that it was meant as his own special word for you in lieu of calling you a brat. Because that’s always when you’d earned the name, when you were being a brat. This time you don’t feel like there’s anything behind it, and it might just be exactly what it was: Sukuna thinking that you’re cute.

Even considering that that might be the case makes a little bit of warmth blossom in your chest, then lower down when one corner of his mouth lifts just so and it looks like he knows exactly what it’s done to you. That’s his only tell, as he moves on quickly, wrapping his arm around your waist and resting his heavy hand on your hip.

“What kind of games?”

Now the blood that had rushed downward makes its way to your face as you shrug, “I dunno…”

“You don’t know what games you play?” His brows raise in a way that telegraphs he’s warning you not to lie to him, the thought of what the punishment might be for such a trespass has your mind racing.

You feel an odd pang of guilt in your chest though, for thinking of what he could do to your body when he seemed to be looking for an actual conversation, but then you’re second guessing even that. So you decide to just take it as what it is, a question, and answer it.

“I like Animal Crossing.”

“The children’s game?”

The bite is back as you roll your eyes at him, “It’s not just for kids.”

He smiles and squeezes lightly at your hip, then pulls you close, so your sides are pressed together and you have to tilt your head up to look at him. It makes you pause, makes you have to tell yourself not to be obvious in the way you cross your legs a little tighter. He doesn’t miss a thing, though.

“Well what’s this Animal Crossing about, then?”

“You’re a villager-“

“Like a peasant?”

“No, like… a little guy. Or girl, or whatever, and you move onto an island with a bunch of animals that live there too.”

His smile widens as his brows raise higher, “And that’s not just a children’s game?”

“It’s not just that, you basically build up a little town, planting trees, building things, decorating the place.” You pause, waiting for another remark from Sukuna, but find he’s just listening, waiting for you to continue. So you do, “You can even do things like fishing or catching bugs, it’s-“

He dips his head down and his lips brush yours, pressing for just a moment before he’s pulling back and speaking low. His nose is still pressed to yours, and hearing his voice at a near-whisper for the first time has your panties wetter than ever. “It sounds surprisingly peaceful.”

“I like a little peace and quiet sometimes.”

“Not when you’re out with me.”

You look into his eyes, and notice what an interesting shade they are, warm and deep and as intense as he was. It makes you realise that you’d never seen them without being overtaken by dilated pupils.

“Well… that’s you.”

The small ’Hm’ he lets out is dipped in something you can’t quite decipher yet, but it doesn’t really matter as his tongue parts your lips, giving you the kiss you’d come to crave. He lays you back, arm still underneath you, and you wrap your arms around him as he scoots you further up his bed bit by bit until your head is resting just below his pillows.

Whether the conversation before was genuine or simply pretence doesn’t matter now as he slips his muscled thigh between your legs, giving you an encouraging hum when you grind on it. Your hands are quick to find their way into his hair, then work their way down his back and up his sides. He feels so familiar yet different as the resumed training has made his body harder than before. When your hands finally make their way down to where his clothed cock rests heavy against your hip, you find a wet patch at the tip to match the one you were undoubtedly leaving on his thigh. His tongue is strong against yours, lips demanding as they lead until you’re moaning into his mouth, ready for him to do more than have you humping at his leg.

Sensing that, he pulls back, moving to lay beside you, hand on your jaw keeping you in place so he can look down at you as he speaks.

“Still scared to suck my cock?”

Here it finally was, that moment when he brings it up when you’re not too worn out to do something about that unstoppable smugness. You push him onto his back. Or, rather, you try to, finding him an unmovable object as your strength means nothing to him. He chuckles, and slides off of the bed to stand next to it.

“Here,” he slides his hands under your arms, pulling you until you’re lying on your stomach, elbows perched on the edge of the bed and peering up at him standing over you, “let me help you out.”

He hooks his thumb in the waistband of both his sweatpants and underwear, tugging them down enough to have his cock out and hanging, too heavy to stand fully on its own despite its hardness. He pumps it a few times, squeezing up slowly until a new bead of precum forms at the tip, and when you open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out to catch it as it drips down, he gives you that wicked smile you know so well.

“You’ll have to get it nice and wet if you expect it to fit in your throat.”

“Obviously.” That was the closest he’d get right now to an admission of you being intimidated by his size, he already wasn’t letting you forget those words that first night you’d met.

He’s right though, so you lean forward and swirl your tongue around the thick head, wrapping your lips around for just a moment before shifting to latch onto the side of his shaft. He holds it steady by the base, watching you intently as you suck and kiss your way down, letting the spit gathered in your mouth cover it as you go, and giving him the smallest hint of what he wanted. As you lick your way back up to the tip you look up at him and he bares his teeth, eyes sparkling as you finally take it in your mouth again and slowly sink down.

Just as the head hits your throat, you pull back, eyes still on his, before going back down slowly. You bob your head up and down like this a few times, coating his cock more and more until spit is dripping down your chin and into the floor below.

Then, he pulls his cock away from your mouth and flips you flat onto your back, this time with your head hanging over the edge. You open wide, tongue out, and grab onto his hips as he wipes the head of his cock across your lips before pushing in. He pauses for a second when he’s about to enter your throat, releasing his grip on his cock now that he’s firmly anchored inside of your mouth, and pulls his shirt up and over his head, throwing it onto the ground behind him.

You wonder why he’d even put it on in the first place, then you wonder nothing at all as he starts pushing his way into your throat and you have no choice but to put your full focus on the challenge before you. He only goes so far before he’s pulling back until you’re tightening your lips over the head of his cock in a kind of kiss - catching your breath for just a moment before he’s parting them to push his way back in. He repeats this motion, pushing in a bit further each time, until he’s pressing his way all the way in until your nose is nuzzled into his heavy balls.

He stays there, low grown bubbling out from his throat, and your own throat starts to clench around the length inside of it. It’s not long before you’re squeezing at his hips and bringing your knees up. He pulls out then, and you only have a second to sputter and cough before he’s bending down and kissing you hard, tongue feeling much less invasive now that he’s had his monster of a cock in there.

When his lips part from yours, the smile he gives you makes your pussy flutter, “See, I knew you could take it.”

It feels like a compliment as much as it feels like a warning.

Then, he’s standing up, and sliding his cock right back into your mouth and down your throat in one quick thrust. As he fucks into your mouth you find that your throat, and lungs are indeed more accommodating than you had thought. The throbbing soreness of having something so thick so deep isn’t so bad, and you time your breaths perfectly before your air is cut off briefly from the intrusion. Eventually he stays deeper and deeper each time he pulls back until he’s barely leaving your throat before he’s filling it again.

His thrusts are slow and relaxed while he leans down and runs his hands over your body. He gropes at your tits, squeezes at your stomach, then settles a hand over your pussy. He presses firmly, moving his hand side to side as he enjoys the wetness already there.

“Tell me, are you this wet just from a few kisses, or from finally getting a taste of my cock?”

You wait for him to pull back and let you speak, or sputter, or even moan as he continues palming at you pussy. Instead he hooks a thumb into your panties, pulling them to the side and sliding two fingers into you while thrusting harder into your throat.

“Got nothing to say for yourself?”

In lieu of an opportunity to speak, you swallow around his girth, tightening your throat enough to have him hissing through clenched teeth. A laugh follows that has your pussy clenching, and the sudden knowledge that even that had your body needy for him pushes the sound from a chuckle to a pleased growl.

“That’s fine, just let this do the talking.”

He fucks his fingers into you fast, stirring you up so well you lose your focus on breathing when you get the rare opportunity. You feel yourself getting lightheaded, eyes rolling back, grip on Sukuna’s hips loosening, until he suddenly pulls back and returns to those much more shallow thrusts where he’s only barely entering your throat.

You think it’s a merciful break, until you realise he’s pulling his fingers out of you and repositioning himself to hunch down over you on the bed. He slides his arms under your thighs, before hooking his hand back in your panties and settling his face between your legs, cock back to bullying it’s way as deep as it can go in your throat while still letting him keep his mouth on you.

His tongue is big, lathing over your pussy in long firm strokes, dipping inside you just to feel you clench before he pulls it back out and presses the flat of it over your bundle of nerves. When he wraps his lips around it he sucks hard, pulling back with a wet pop and leaving you yelping around his length as the intensity borders on painful. Then, just as quickly as he’d done it, he’s rubbing it better with his tongue, warm and soft and working you towards your orgasm.

He keeps your panties firmly out of the way with his index, sliding his middle and ring finger inside of you to give you something to clench around as sucks and licks your pussy until it’s drooling for him. You can’t even tell whether the wetness dripping down your ass is from you or his mouth as he growls into it, seemingly driven back to that savage state he’d fucked you in once before just by the taste of you. It’s sending you flying to the edge, whole body tensing, not sure if you’re breathing and not sure if you really need to as he fucks your throat, and the final push comes suddenly as you start clenching around his fingers.

All at once, it’s ripped away from you and you’re tightening on nothing. The cold air is jarring as he sits up, mouth and fingers abandoning your pussy, cock vacating your throat, and you outright scream in frustration at having your orgasm ruined. He pulls you up, tossing you back into your earlier position with your head on his pillows before he’s flipping you on your front and pulling you onto your knees.

“Fuck, I was cumming!”

“Too bad,” he lines himself up with your pussy, “I need to fuck you.”

His words ring loudly in your ears and your head spins as you realise this is the first time the two of you will have fucked completely sober, though you hardly felt sober with the way he’d toyed with your pussy like that.

As he presses in, much more slowly than you were anticipating, he groans and throws his head back, hands rubbing over your ass.

“So tight… no one’s fucked you right since me, hm?”

You don’t intend to answer that. It wasn’t any of his business what you did, and didn’t do, in the time he’d left you hanging.

Sukuna won’t be ignored though, ending his slow push forward by shoving the last few inches of his fat cock into you hard and fast enough for a little skin on skin slap to ring out just as you yelp.

“You haven’t been fucked stupid like that again, have you?”

“N-no.” It’s hard to keep your composure when you’re being split open for the first time in months.

He pulls out to the tip, and you brace yourself for another punishing thrust, but instead he’s back to pressing in slowly. He leans down over you, tracing his tongue up your back as he continues fucking you deep, pausing every so often to kiss and nip at your skin until you’re arching your back, rocking back into him.

“There you go,” he squeezes your hips, picking up the speed just a little, “a pussy like this needs to be fucked often, doesn’t it?”

You nod, moaning as your orgasm is already inching closer thanks to his cock dragging deliciously along your walls.

“Guess I’ll have to keep you around then, it would be a shame to waste it.”

He’s stirring you up so well you can only think to agree. Of course you needed his cock, of course it would be a waste, and how gracious of him to sort you out like this. Like his cock was a favour. Like he hadn’t said just minutes ago that he was the one that needed it. Not wanted it, needed it.

Your head is spinning, stomach clenching as he begins to fuck you like he was making up for wasted time. It’s hard enough that you’re unable to stay upright, slumping forward as your arms give out on you. It doesn’t slow Sukuna down in the least, as he pulls you back into his thrusts quickly, fingers pressing into the very spots your body knew his bruises belonged. He leans up and into you, shoving your body forward enough that you throw a hand up to brace yourself from being pushed into the headboard as he leans his full weight onto you, reaching beneath you to swipe at your clit roughly.

He’s shoving you towards that edge again, making you whine and moan for him as you have no choice but to cum fast and cum hard, something he does right along with you as he’s snapping his hips against yours and filling you with wave after wave of hot cum.

You collapse fully beneath him, pussy still twitching every so often with the aftermath of your orgasm, Sukuna acting as a far too heavy weighted blanket on top of you while he gets his breathing under control after an orgasm that seemed to rip through him as hard as it had you. He seems to finally hear your struggle below as he sits up and pulls out, letting you take full breaths now with his weight off of you.

He tugs his sweatpants back up and lies down on his side next to you, pushing your hair out of your face to make sure you were at least conscious before letting out a small huff of a chuckle.

“I thought you had passed out for a second there.”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit.” The bite isn’t really there as your voice cracks and you lick your lips, mouth dry from how you’d been panting so hard.

Another chuckle and he’s rolling you onto your back and pulling you into him, sliding his fingers into your pussy and smirking as he feels your walls still twitching with the aftershocks of your orgasm. He leaves his fingers settled in there, playing idly in your warmth as you lie there under his smug gaze.

You want to say something but you don’t know what, and deciding he looks content in this silence you just let the moment hang. Then, as your heart steadies and your body stops buzzing with the soft afterglow, you find yourself clear headed for the first time since you’d gotten that text from Sukuna earlier this day.

“Fuck!” You push yourself up onto your elbows, trying to reach for where you’d tossed your small clutch on his bed but being stopped by his heavy arm across your body, fingers hooked securely inside of you.

Once you start to shove at his arm he sighs, sliding his fingers out of you to grab the small leather purse and tossing it onto your stomach. He seems entirely uninterested in whatever you were on about as he settles back down on the bed and slides his fingers back inside of you.

“I completely forgot I had actual plans tonight.” You’re annoyed at yourself for just forgetting everything the second you’d gotten one text from Sukuna.

You’re annoyed at yourself even more for admitting in front of him that you’d bailed on these plans without a word the second he came calling, catching the way his fingers stop stirring inside you for just a moment before they’re back to their lazy movements.

He doesn’t seem interested in teasing you for it at least, letting out a contented sigh as you dig your phone out from where it was squeezed into your clutch, taking up all the space in there save for a small slot for your lip gloss. He watches through half-closed eyelids as you type your message of apology to your friend. You don’t bother explaining yourself, knowing they’d probably text you something back about getting your back blown out and you didn’t need his head getting bigger about any of this. When he sees your messages he locks onto his name in your phone again before you lock it and start to put it back in your bag.

“Put my name in your phone.”

“What?” You look up at him, surprised he still cared about that. He doesn’t look mad, or annoyed even, not like he had the first time he’d seen it. Whatever is in his expression isn’t fully clear to you, though it doesn’t feel entirely unlike when you’ve disappointed a parent.

“Put my name in your phone. Properly.”

You watch him carefully as you pull your phone from where it was half-stuffed in your bag, and do just that. Looking down at the screen to type out ‘Ryomen Sukuna’.

“There.”

He pulls his fingers out of you, rubbing your wetness and his lingering cum through your folds, then patting your pussy lightly. Then, he pats it again, this time firmly enough to make you jump. “Good girl.”

CHAPTER 5

#reminder minors and ageless blogs get blocked #my writing #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader

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dromaeocore · 10 months

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For those of you who like the idea of peer respites, I just want to say these are not the only alternatives to the mainstream psych system :] Here's a big ol' list, and many/most of them are peer-run. I live in America, so a lot of this is US-based, but I've tried to make it as internationally accessible as possible!

I'll start with the live-in options. So ya'll already know about peer respites, if you read my latest post about it. There's a few more similar things out there.

Soteria Houses - More long-term (months+) community homes for folks with lived experience of psychosis/similar extreme states, with peer support, that focus on a humane and person-centered approach. Much more freedom & agency than your traditional group home.

Hurdalsjøen Recovery Center - a "medication-free" (aka medication-optional) psychiatric hospital in Norway. Allows patients to choose whether to stay on or taper/remain off psychiatric drugs. Focused on healthy eating, exercise, and recreational therapy options.

Bethel House - Similar to Soteria Houses, a homelike environment in Japan for people with schizophrenia, etc. that focuses on social reintegration.

Organizations, clubs, groups, etc:

Students With Psychosis - A peer support community with programming for students with psychosis

International Map of Hearing Voices/Intervoice networks - Non=pathological support groups for people who hear voices, see visions, etc. US directory, UK directory.

Clubhouse International - Gives people with mental illness opportunities for friendship, employment, housing, educational, and medical services all in one place. Founded by a group of friends who survived a psychiatric hospital together.

Project LETS - A radical approach to peer support and healing that has a disability justice centered approach, giving people with lived experience a voice and focusing on mutual aid. They provide peer mental health advocates, self-harm prevention, and more.

The Mad Society of Canada: A grassroots community of practice that brings together folks who want to provide non-coercive, ethical, survivor-informed mental health services/policy.

Power to the Plurals: Resources and events for people who identify as plural/multiple/systems.

The Wildflower Alliance: Grassroots peer support, training, and advocacy community based in Massachusetts.

Alternatives To Suicide (Alt2Su): Peer support groups that allow people to talk about suicidal thoughts without fear of being committed to the hospital, etc

Trainings:

Intentional Peer Support = Trauma-informed peer support training

Emotional CPR - Trauma-informed mental health support training program for the layperson

Hearing Voices Curriculum: Targeted towards mental health professionals to better understand the experience of hearing voices. Warning: It's expensive!

Cities that have a particularly awesome way of dealing with folks in crisis/with mental illness/etc:

Geel - a farming community where residents welcome people suffering with severe mental illness/distress into their homes and live with them, share work, etc (Edit: apparently Geel is a small city with like 40,000 people and not a farming community lol, I was misinformed. Thanks to @roxbot for the correction!)

Trieste - a city with a community centered system of care that integrates housing and peer support

Warmlines (generally run by peers) and Crisis Lines that don't call the cops: (Most of these are taken from this post by trans-axolotl on Crisis Lines)

Trans Lifeline: 877-565-8860, 24/7

BlackLine: 1 (800) 604-5841, has texting options

The Plural Warmline (No number, check the site)

THRIVE: text message line at 313-662-8209, 24/7

Promise Resource Network: (833) 390-7728, 24/7

Project Return Peer Support Network: (888) 448-9777 English or (888) 448-4055 Spanish, hours are Monday through Friday 2:30 PM to 10:00 PM PST and Saturday and Sunday 10:00 AM to 6:00 PM PST

Wildflower Alliance Peer Support Line: 888-407-4515, hours are 7pm to 9pm EST Monday through Thursday and 7pm-10pm EST Friday through Sunday

Key Consumer Organization: 800-933-5397, hours are 8am - 4:30pm EST, Monday - Friday.

MBRLC Peer Support Line: 877-733-7563, hours are 4 pm-7:45 pm EST every day.

US Warmline Directory (unlikely to call cops, but check with the individual line first)

Misc:

CommonGround software - A software developed by Dr. Pat Deegan (an individual who was diagnosed with schizophrenia) that allows clients to communicate their needs to their doctors more efficiently to support shared-decision making with medication.

Open Dialogue- An psychosocial approach to psychiatric services that focuses shared decision-making and dialogue between client, providers, and family (if the client wants family involved), and often more minimal use of medication.

Integrative Psychiatry - A holistic form of psychiatry that focuses on nutrition, exercise, therapy, and psychosocial factors, where medication is just an aspect of treatment. US database of integrative psychiatrists here.

I will also give a somewhat honorable mention to Mobile Crisis Teams. They are a fairly new alternative to the usual "call the cops on your local mentally ill person". They are composed of nurses, therapists, social workers, occasionally peer support workers, etc. They hook the individual up with support/resources - which can often mean forced hospitalization/forced treatment FYI - but it is a step up from being killed by cops. Look up "[city] Mobile Crisis Team" to find out if there is one in your city.

A note: Something being on this list =/= it is perfect, just that it is an alternative to what we've got. So don't come at me, lmao. Feel free to add on if you know of anything else!

#long post #VERY long post lol #mental health #psychiatry #psych critical #psychiatry critical #psych wards #mental illness #neurodivergency #police brutality #antipsych #antipsychiatry #anti psychiatry #peer support #oh i'm gonna write a book on all this stuff btw uwu #WHAT ELSE CAN I TAG THIS WITH SO IT SHOWS UP FOR PPL???

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humanpurposes · 7 months

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It Will Come Back

Chapter 1, You Know Better

Two sides of a family fight for their own claims to the Targaryen inheritance. Amongst the endless infighting, forced pleasantries and PR scandals, Jaya Velaryon finds herself face to face with a demon of her past, namely Aemond Targaryen. Love and hate are not emotions easily unlearned.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x Jaya Velaryon (OFC)

Warnings: 18+, dark elements, targcest (uncle x niece relationship) toxic family dynamics, drinking, recreational drug use, manipulation (I guess?)

Words: 5800

A/n: Please make sure you read the warnings. If any of this stuff makes you uncomfortable feel free to give it a miss 🫶 Also serves as my (very very late) entry for Week 1 of the literary prompts for @hotd-bigbang

“He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” -Wuthering Heights

6 years earlier...

Jaya leaned on her shoulder against the wall by the side door, waiting as inconspicuously as she could despite the fact she was dressed in a black crop top, skirt and pumps. Clearly, she had no intention of spending the evening at home.

She shifted her weight on her feet, pulled at the hem of her crop top and checked the pocket of her black denim jacket; pocket mirror, lipgloss, eyeliner, and the vintage lighter Aemond had slipped into her hands a few months ago. Every time she tried to give it back he wouldn’t take it. She smiled to herself as she traced her thumb over the engraving of a three headed dragon in the silver plating. He said he had found it in his father’s study years ago, but Viserys had enough of them to not notice that one had gone missing, apparently.

She froze when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs and through the hallway. They were too light to be Laenor’s, too quick to be Rhaenyra’s, too cautious to be Luke or Joff.

Jace appeared through the archway, a red blazer thrown over his shoulder, his shirt untucked and unbuttoned at the top to show off two chains, one gold, one silver. His perfectly white sneakers hardly made a sound against the hardwood floors. He tutted when he saw her.

“What?” she said, tightening her grip on the lighter in her pocket.

“Nothing,” he mumbled. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Jaya had a few memories of their apartments at the Red Keep. She considered the humbly named Queen’s Lodge to be the only home she had ever known. The house sat on a large estate in the corner of Queen’s Park, not too far from the centre of King’s Landing, but removed from the noise and chaos of the city. The front looked out over immaculately kept gardens while the back of the house was for leisure, the patio, the pool and the tennis court beyond that. The side door Jaya and Jace found themselves passing through every Friday night led out to a small orchard of apple trees.

Summer was fast approaching but the night air was far from warm. Once Jace had locked the door from the inside latch and pocketed the spare key, Jaya led him down the barely visible path, down to a denser grove of older, taller trees, to the iron fence that bordered the entire estate. Jace hoisted her up and over the fence before clambering after her.

Where the daylight saw countless people passing through the park, the Velaryon twins walked through darkness and silence along the boardwalk, down to the gates that were locked every day at sunset.

Well, almost silence. Jace walked a few paces behind his sister, huffing and sighing pointedly.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Jaya said over her shoulder, a fact she reminded him of every week.

“I’m not going to let you go alone,” Jace said.

She tried to appreciate the intention, but having him dragging his feet behind her, constantly complaining when he could just stay home was frankly getting exhausting.

“I won’t be alone,” she said, checking the last few texts on her phone.

The first read, Here.

Which was soon followed by, Hurry up. It’s fucking cold :)

Jaya giggled to herself and looked ahead. The gate was coming into view now, and so were the two girls waiting by it.

They were both dressed in black, Sabby in a mini dress trimmed with lace, Alyssane in flared jeans, a Vivienne Westwood top and a pearl necklace.

“Did you not think to bring a jacket, Sabs?” Jaya grinned as Jace helped her over the gate.

“It’s strategic,” Alysanne said, “she’ll complain she’s cold and some cool, sexy economics student will offer her his jacket.”

“Politics,” Sabby said, reaching to help Jaya as she slipped down. “Gods, you must be the first person to ever say ‘cool’, ‘sexy’ and ‘economics student’ in the same sentence.”

From the park it was only a short walk to the bus stop, and a matter of minutes until they reached Conquest Street. Jaya loved it, the energy buzzing in the streets as they passed the pubs and bars, music pulsing from every direction, people laughing and shouting to make themselves heard.

From there she knew the way to Maegor’s Square without thinking. A few people lingered around the garden at the centre of the square and some leaned over the balconies in their aparments, smoking cigarettes and sipping expensive booze from mismatched glasses.

Then they came to the townhouse on the corner, with the emerald green door and the gold knocker in the shape of a dragon’s head. A bit on the nose, but their family were hardly known for their subtlety.

“I can’t believe you got us an invite to one of Aegon’s parties,” Alysanne hissed excitedly into her ear.

It was nothing really, Aegon wasn’t picky about the company he kept, and if anything, he liked picking up waifs and strays.

Jaya smiled as she checked her makeup in her pocket mirror. “Well, I am his favourite niece,” she said, smudging out the eyeliner in the corners of her eyes.

“You’re his only niece,” Jace grumbled.

“Exactly, no room for competition,” Jaya said, before applying another swipe of red lipgloss over her lips. “How do I look?” she asked the three of them.

Alysanne and Sabby immediately responded with praise that just seemed to float through her.

Jace tilted his head. For a moment Jaya thought she saw pity in her brother’s eyes.

“Beautiful,” he said, “you’re always beautiful.”

Jaya tutted. She didn’t mean her, she meant the makeup.

She tapped the knocker four times before being greeted by a haze of smoke, the smell of liquor and a slow psychedelic rock song playing from another room. The door had been opened by Arryk Cargyll, one of Aegon’s uni friends. He had a glass of clear liquid and ice in his hand and a cigarette hanging in the corner of his mouth. He hugged Jaya tightly and she beamed back, making a point to ask about his upcoming internship at Lannister Legal. He seemed impressed that she had remembered.

“Third year law,” she said to Alysanne and Sabby. “And he has a twin brother, Erryk. Politics,” she added with a wink. The girls giggled.

Jace settled for a quick handshake and a nod.

“Friends from school?” Arryk asked as he greeted the girls.

“Yeah, we’re all at Peremore’s,” Alysanne said, slotting herself beside him with a well-practised smile. They had another few weeks of classes before their final exams, but they all had their university applications confirmed.

Arryk led them through the bodies lingering in the hallway, into the kitchen and Alysanne began the usual routine of telling him what she studied– Politics, Psychology and Literature– and her plans to do Law at Vale. Sabby looked a little sour.

Jaya made herself at home, leaning against the black marble countertop, grinning to herself as Arryk suggested opening a bottle of champagne. He poured out four glasses, keeping one for himself, handing one each to Sabby and Alysanne. He went to give the fourth to Jaya then looked to Jace with a look of embarrassment.

“It’s fine,” Jace said shortly, “I’ll get myself a beer–”

“Jacey boy!” a theatrical voice called as the double glass door to the garden swung open. Aegon Targaryen swept into the room with a cold breeze, slapping his hand down on his nephew’s shoulder.

Jaya briefly glanced around the room, searching for another head of silver hair. Her heart sank a little when she didn’t find it.

The angles of Aegon’s face made him look severe, especially when he smiled, but it was countered by his wide violet eyes with a softer, sadder look. He looked at Jaya, with a firm hand on Jace’s shoulder, and smiled. She smiled back.

“Made it at last,” Aegon said as Jace shrugged him off. “I thought you two were getting here early.”

“No I told you,” Jaya said, nodding to her friends, “I brought guests.”

Aegon could turn charm on like a switch. His voice suddenly took on a richer tone as he introduced himself to the girls, shaking their hands and pressing light kisses to their knuckles.

Jace plucked a green bottle from the fridge and began to drink, scowling at everyone between sips.

“Could you at least look like you’re having fun?” Jaya muttered into his ear as he settled beside her against the counter.

“What’s fun about this?” he replied.

She supposed she knew what he meant. These parties weren’t always as exciting as she wanted them to be, watching other people get wasted, sitting through not-entirely-sober lectures from Aegon’s friends, which really just felt like they were getting off to the sound of their own voices. It could be quite intimidating sometimes, but this was just how adults had fun.

She had this vision that one day something would just click. All the boring parts of parties would seem fun, the drinks wouldn’t taste as strong, the mindless small talk with people she didn’t know would make sense, the music wouldn’t feel so loud.

For now she had her own reason for coming to Maegor’s Square every Friday night.

Her heart hummed when she heard footsteps coming from the hallway. A few voices muttered vague greetings which were met by a distant “hmm.”

“Why haven’t you got a drink yet, Jaya?” Aegon asked and she realised she had yet to take the champagne from Arryk.

Suddenly the footsteps stopped and a thrill slipped down her spine. Someone was looming behind her. She could feel his breath on her neck and the heat radiating from his body.

“She’ll have some of this,” a low but soft voice said, holding out a glass of red wine in front of her. She recognised his hand, the veins and the tendons prominent underneath pale skin. The silver signet ring on his little finger, engraved with a three headed dragon. The scent of his perfume, woody and green, lingering with the smell of tobacco.

Jaya took the glass with her fingertips, trying to hide her delight as she turned over her shoulder to face him. Aemond gazed down at her with a gentle look in his blue eyes and the corners of his mouth curled into a small smile.

“What is it?” she asked, bringing it to her lips.

“It’s Dornish,” he said, “you’ll like it.”

She wasn’t sure if she liked it, so much as she could swallow it without wincing, but Aemond always seemed so happy when she liked the things he gave her. His eyes were fixed on her face as she took three small sips, and wiped away the red imprint of her lipgloss on the rim. It was sour and it left a slight burn on her tongue. She muttered an apology about the lipgloss but he didn’t seem to mind, drinking from the other side of the glass when he took it back.

She kept her back to the others as Aegon, Arryk and the girls all became better acquainted. She stayed as close to Aemond as she dared, her chest a few inches from his, her neck craning to look up at him even with her heels.

“I missed you while you were away,” she said, fighting the urge to fiddle with the fabric of her skirt or the polished surface of her red painted nails.

Aemond’s mother liked to whisk her children away every year for a few weeks around spring break, usually to join the rest of the Hightower family at Honeywine Hall, an old manor house in the mountains. It sounded perfect, hiking, horse trails, swimming in reservoirs and trips into Oldtown. She lived as vicariously as she could through Aemond’s nightly phone calls and the souvenirs he had sent her, the postcards, the photographs and even a book he had found in a second-hand shop in Oldtown, a special edition of Wuthering Heights with gold lettering on a patterned cover.

She and Aemond exchanged any details they might have missed from their phone calls. She liked watching him talk, the way his lips moved, the bashful way he would avert his eyes from hers when he felt himself going off on a tangent. Equally she liked the way he watched her when it was her turn to speak, the brightness of his eyes, his almost smug expression and the smile lines in his cheeks.

“Oh!” she gasped, feeling her eyes going wide, “and I read Wuthering Heights.” Of course she had. She had devoured it within days of receiving the parcel from him.

Aemond smiled and her heart ignited. Most of the books she read came at his recommendation.

“What did you think?” he asked, trailing the tip of his index finger up and down his glass.

“I mean, you know how I feel about classics, and I suppose it was rather difficult to get into at first, but it was…” she gestured vaguely with her hand while she tried to think, before she settled on “haunting.”

“Haunting,” he echoed. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“In a beautiful way.”

His eyes were on hers, his lips settled into a look of calm content, perhaps even pride. She hoped it was pride.

“It was so vivid. I loved the longing and the hopelessness,” she said.

Aemond laughed quietly at that, taking another sip of wine and drawing the tip of his tongue over his lips. “I knew you’d like it, you love the doom and gloom.”

If she did, it was because he had taught her to. They liked all the same things, classic fiction, horror movies, cold weather, black coffee, quiet moments during loud parties when their eyes would meet in understanding, or recognition that they were two people whose souls were the same.

She had to bite down her fury with her tongue between her teeth when someone else came along to steal Aemond’s attention. Rickard Thorne, she thought the guy’s name was, one of Aemond’s coursemates.

Jaya’s tactic for parties was to keep moving. She took Sabby by the hand and nodded at Jace, suggesting they move into the lounge. Alysanne had firmly been lost to Arryk; somehow she had turned a conversation about paralegal internships into flirting and Jaya was rather impressed.

She felt like she was good at this by now, starting conversations with the young and beautiful of the city’s elite, most of whom were students at the university– and spending a lot of these parties by Aemond’s side, she had picked up enough to converse with even the most pretentious of politics students. But it was her birthright to belong in a place like this. She didn’t have the silver hair or the violet eyes, but everyone knew who she was before she could tell them. She could see it in their eyes as she introduced herself. You’re Rhaenyra Targaryen’s daughter.

Each venture into the kitchen came with a stop by the assortment of bottles on the counter, but she mostly stuck with the arbour red. When she couldn’t find any more bottles of that, she and Sabby found a sickly sweet rosé that was easier to drink.

She checked the time at midnight, feeling a pleasant haze fall over her. She could hardly stop giggling at everything, at Sabby’s struggle to pour a drink and ending up with more wine on the counter than in her glass, at the couples in the hallway trying to suffocate each other with their mouths and bodies. She wandered through the house without knowing where she wanted to go, and squinted at the head of brown curls buried into the neck of Loras Tyrell. Shit. Well at least Jace was having some fun now.

She ended up in the dining room at the front of the house. This seemed to be where most of the fun was happening. There was a black leather sofa by the door, where Alysanne was sitting between Arryk and Aegon. They were sharing a bottle of vodka between them and whispering into each other’s ears between swigs.

In the centre of the room was a vintage mahogany table. A small group gathered around it, spectating an apparently gripping game of chess. Sitting over the white pieces was one of the Tully brothers, and over the black pieces was Aemond.

He had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, leaning with his elbows on the table and swirling a glass of whisky as he considered his next move. A mischievous smirk graced his lips as he glanced up at his opponent, and raised his hand to move a piece. Their audience gasped and muttered amongst themselves in awe.

Aemond’s eyes met hers across the room. His hair had fallen slightly, the edges forming a curtain over his forehead. He smiled into his drink. This was his version of a few too many, challenging people to chess games and breaking out the expensive liquor.

She suddenly felt proud, then embarrassed, and turned back to the sofa.

Aegon was placing a pill on Alysanne’s tongue while Arryk handed her the vodka to wash it down. She winced but managed to swallow it.

Aegon caught Jaya’s eye. “Want one?” he asked, looking at her with his chin tilted down and his overgrown hair falling around his eyes. It looked less charming than Aemond’s, more messy than effortless.

The grin on his face made her feel uneasy. She had always been an observer of these habits, never a participant. She meant to ask what it was he had given Alysanne and the question was on the tip of her tongue—

“Zaldrīzītsos,”

Her head snapped back to Aemond without hesitation. He was turned away from the table a little, a dark, almost furious expression on his face. She wondered why, surely she hadn’t done anything wrong? He beckoned her over with a single finger but she was already walking towards him.

When she was close enough, Aemond wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. She burned where their skin met, especially when his hand came to hold her side, fingertips pressing into her flesh.

“Now,” he muttered into her ear and she shuddered at the sensation of his breath over her neck. “I want your help with something. Tell me you see what I’m seeing.”

She dragged her attention to the board and the pieces upon it. It almost felt like a test, but she had no intentions of disappointing him.

It wasn’t entirely obvious at first, they seemed to be pretty evenly matched, but then she saw it. A discrepancy in Tully’s game. She played through a few moves in her head, just like Aemond had taught her.

She turned her head back to Aemond with the beginnings of a smile. With his knowing look she knew she had it figured out.

She looked across the board at the Tully boy. “Checkmate in three,” she said.

His eyes widened and looked down frantically. “You’re bluffing,” he said, “you’re having me on, there’s no fucking way–”

“Do the honours for me, would you?” Aemond’s voice whispered in her ear, giving her waist a slight squeeze.

She couldn’t help but grin as she went to move one of Aemond’s pieces.

And suddenly Tully saw it too. “Shit,” he said. “Shit. Shit. Shit!” He tried desperately to counter with his Queen.

Jaya made the second move triumphantly, pitifully met by Tully’s attempt to save the game, but it was already won.

When she reached for the final move, Aemond’s hand wrapped around hers. “I started the game, only fair that I finish it, yes?”

She could hardly find the breath to reply. “Yes,” she uttered, letting Aemond guide her hand into her lap before he moved the final piece.

“Checkmate,” he said coolly, flicking over Tully’s King with his finger.

He would have won either way, but Jaya was happy to have even just a small share in his victory. But then with the game over, she supposed she didn’t have a reason to stay so close to him.

Aemond brought his face before hers, until the tips of their noses barely touched. “Good girl for spotting that,” he murmured.

His praise hit her like electricity. For a moment she thought she was going to lose her balance, bracing herself with a palm on his thigh as he brought both hands to her waist. She was steady. She was stable.

“How much have you had?” Aemond asked with a smirk.

“Gods, uncle, why do you have to sound so self-righteous?” she huffed, bringing her hands to the silky material of his shirt. She watched her hands glide over his chest, delicately and effortlessly. The top few buttons were undone, baring his neck. She thought about running her finger along it, down to the hollow spot in his collar bone. Or she could trail it along his jaw, over the sight hint of stubble she could see. Then she could let her thumb linger on his lip– Gods she loved his lips and the smile lines around his mouth.

A soft but startling noise brought both of their attention to the sofa. Sabby was here now too, but she was talking to Alysanne– no she was leaning over her, or was she trying to pull her up? Arryk and Aegon were on their feet, in some sort of argument.

Jaya frowned, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. “What are they–”

Aemond pushed her onto her feet by her waist. Now that she wasn’t sitting down she felt dizzy but she clung onto a chair to keep her balance.

Aemond was kneeling beside Alysanne and pulling her hair from her face while she was sprawled out on the sofa. Sabby was shouting at Aegon and Arryk.

Jaya felt more sober with each step she took towards them. She was hit with a boozy, sour smell and realised that the front of Alysanne’s top was drenched with what looked like water, but was trailing from her mouth. She was crying, and when Jaya got close enough, she saw her hands were trembling.

“Get the fuck away from her!” Jace’s voice bellowed from the doorway. He rushed forward and Aemond was by Jaya’s side before Jace could shove him away.

Jaya was frozen, even as Aemond curled his arm around her shoulder.

“She’ll be fine,” Aegon was saying, “she's just had a bad reaction, she can sleep it off.”

Sabby had Alysanne sitting up now. Her sobs were getting less frantic now, but it was hard to see her so clearly distressed.

Jace scowled at Aegon. “What did you give her?”

Jaya felt Aemond’s arm tensing tighter around her.

Aegon smiled. “Don’t worry, kid, wouldn’t dream of giving her anything too strong.”

She saw the way Jace’s jaw tensed at Aegon’s choice of words.

“Seven fucking hells,” Aemond muttered under his breath.

Her brother was on a knife’s edge, his fists clenching by his sides. Aegon seemed unphased at his silent threats.

Jaya pulled herself away from Aemond and went to Alysanne.

“How do you feel?” Sabby kept asking her.

“My head hurts,” Alysanne grumbled, cradling her forehead in her palms.

“Can you stand up?” Jaya suggested.

Alysanne lurched to her feet without warning, stumbling forward but Jaya and Sabby were there to catch her.

“There…” Alysanne groaned, but she was still struggling to find her footing. “I did it.”

“She needs to go home,” Sabby said, bringing Alysanne’s arm around her shoulders.

With one final seething glare to Aegon, then Arryk, then Aemond, Jace turned his anger to Jaya. “Why the fuck did you let that happen?” he hissed.

Her stomach dropped and she could only stare at him with wide eyes and furrowed brows. “What?” she uttered.

“Alysanne is your friend,” he seethed. “You should know better.”

He was right though. She had been the one to suggest Alysanne and Sabby come along. She had let Alysanne get close to Arryk and Aegon. She’d seen Aegon put a pill on her tongue and she hadn’t even questioned it.

Her eyes were starting to sting, like she wanted to cry but she couldn’t quite remember how. She just wished Jace would stop looking at her like that, his glare laced with venom and scolding, like she was a child, like he knew better. Jace always thought he knew better.

Aemond stepped forward to help Sabby carry Alysanne. “I’ll call you a car—”

“No,” Jace snapped, standing in his way. “You lot have done enough already.” He brought one arm around Alysanne and pulled out his phone with his other hand. He muttered something to Sabby and the three of them began to muddle their way to the hallway.

“Oh you’re leaving?” Aegon called after them with a dramatic frown and his hand clutched to his chest.

Jaya could only find herself able to watch and breathe in the stench of her friend’s vomit. The other faces in the room were hungry and curious. They all had their heads close together, whispering and gasping but not loud enough that she could make out anything tangible.

Aemond leaned into her and she instinctively met his gaze. “Are you going too?”

She realised Jace was stopped in the doorway, glaring at her expectantly.

Then Sabby’s voice called from the front door. Their car was here. They needed to leave now. Alysanne had to get home.

“Jaya can spend the night here, Jace,” Aemond said before she could think of something to say. “I’ll drop her off in the morning.”

Jace’s face fell as he looked at his sister one final time. Jaya gave him a small nod and then he was gone.

The house was surprisingly quiet once the front door slammed shut.

And of course there was only one person who was going to break the silence.

Aegon began laughing. It wasn’t a sound she liked. It was loud and obnoxious and cold. But the attention was on him at least and before long it was almost as if nothing had happened. Arryk grabbed some paper towels, Aegon was doing lines off the dining table, and Jaya was still standing in the middle of the room, letting the noise of chatter and the bass of a slow song float through her.

Aemond’s hand on her shoulder anchored her back into the room.

“I think you should go to sleep,” he said.

“But it’s early,” she groaned as he guided her towards the kitchen.

She hooked her arms around his elbow as he reached for a glass and filled it with water.

“It’s nearly one,” he said, handing her the glass. “Come on, we’ll get up early and get you something to eat before you go home. Sound good?”

She nodded as she tried to drink and ended up banging her teeth on the glass. Aemond chuckled softly, it was more like a hum in his throat. She had an awful feeling that he was laughing at her mistake.

He draped her jacket over his spare arm and led her through the hallway, up the winding staircase to the top floor. The house had three in total and because it was only the two of them living there, Aegon and Aemond had their own floors with a bedroom, an ensuite and a study— not that Aegon’s study was ever used for its intended purpose.

She loved Aemond’s bedroom with its dark wood floors, forest green walls, rows of bookshelves and the old record player in the corner. She went into the ensuite to wash the makeup from her face and the wine stains in the corners of her mouth, brushed her teeth with a spare toothbrush and changed into the t-shirt Aemond had pulled from his drawer.

When she came back into the room Aemond was only in his jeans, his shirt thrown over a chair, leaning by the open window and fiddling with a filter and a packet of tobacco. She was determined not to look at his chest, the lines of his abs, or the trail of silver hair running below the waistband of his jeans.

“Light?” he muttered when he noticed her.

Jaya nodded and took the lighter from the pocket of her jacket. She tried to walk as straight as she could over to where Aemond was. He placed the cigarette between his teeth and leaned into her.

It took her a few tries to spark the light. She huffed at her own incompetence and dug her teeth into her lower lip, but her third attempt proved to be a charm. The flame bathed Aemond’s face with warmth and flickers of shadows over the angles of his face.

She watched, hypnotised by the way his chest rose as he inhaled the smoke, and the way his lips pouted as he turned his head and expelled it towards the window. Even then she could smell the smoke and feel traces of it burning in her nose and throat.

His eyes moved back to her. He smirked at her apparent fascination.

He offered her the cigarette and she frowned. He’d never done that before.

Her hands felt light and a little numb, but she reached for it, holding it between her fingers like he always did. But then she realised she had no idea what she should do next.

“Take a drag,” Aemond said softly. “But not too much, you'll make yourself sick.”

She brought it to her lips and started to pull the smoke into her mouth. Her eyes moved to his when she had reached the end of his instruction.

“Hold it.” The gentle commanding of his voice put her on edge.

She decided the taste and the sensation of the smoke wasn’t pleasant, but she didn’t dislike it.

“Breathe in…” Aemond said, his chest moving with hers as she inhaled the smoke, “... and out.”

As she exhaled she blew the smoke over Aemond’s face. “Fuck!” she giggled, trying to wave it away, “sorry, I just didn’t think–”

“It’s alright,” Aemond said with a smile as he took the cigarette back from her and brought it to his lips again. “How do you feel?”

She let her head fall towards her shoulder. She felt light and heavy. Happy and sad. Lots of things and nothing specific.

After another exhale of smoke out the window, Aemond took a step into her and leaned down to press a light kiss to her forehead.

Jaya’s chest felt tight. Her heart raced but she stopped herself from reacting.

She couldn’t remember when Aemond started to make her feel nervous. When they were kids they were inseparable, even though she was closer in age to Daeron and their parents were convinced she and Helaena should be like sisters. She followed him everywhere, asked him questions constantly and insisted they hold hands wherever they went. She adored him. She still did now.

She muttered a quiet “night,” and dragged herself towards the bed, wrapping herself in the heavy duvet and curling into the pillows.

She couldn’t sleep yet. The noise of the party hummed through the house, but what caught her attention was the sound of Aemond’s breath moving between his lips. She could still picture his face perfectly, the pout of his lips and his jaw.

She couldn’t help it. She opened her eyes. He was leaning against the windowsill, tapping the ash into a small tray before taking another few drags. She watched him until he stubbed the embers out and moved his hands down to the buttons on his jeans.

A thrill rippled down her front, down to her abdomen.

Stop it.

She quickly turned onto her other side, pulling the duvet up to her chin. She still didn’t let herself fall asleep. She waited with bated breath.

She followed the gentle thud of his jeans being tossed onto the chair and the sound of his footsteps. He let out a throaty sigh as the mattress dipped behind her.

And then she felt him, the warmth of his body against her back, his arm around her waist, pulling her into him, his breath fluttering against her loose hair.

“I’m sorry if you didn’t have a good night,” he muttered. She felt the hum of his voice between her shoulders.

“No,” she whispered, “it was fine.”

It wasn’t fine. She still wanted to cry.

Aemond’s hand started to trace circles over her stomach through the t-shirt. This kind of proximity had become a habit between them even after they had outgrown childish affection, lingering touches and delicate kisses. She loved it. He wasn’t this close with anyone else.

But she couldn't stop thinking about Alysanne, the grin on Aegon's mouth as he fed her the pill, or the look of anger on Jace's face when he left.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” she said.

Aemond froze, his hand paused, splayed across her stomach. It left her with a tight, restless feeling in her belly.

Then he embraced her, tightening his grip, almost squeezing her against him and burying his face into her neck. “Never,” he muttered, his breath hot against her skin. “You could never make me feel like that.”

For a moment his lips pressed against her neck. Aemond pulled away slightly, seemingly having done it by accident. Jaya was still, clinging onto his arm and holding her breath.

Until Aemond leaned in again to place a soft but purposeful kiss to her neck. It felt like she was being smothered, the weight of his body pressing into her side, his arm keeping her tightly against him, while her breath came through her nose and mouth with little huffs.

He began to trail his kisses up her neck, along her jaw, to her cheek, until she realised what he wanted. She angled her head back, enough for him to press his lips against hers.

He kissed her slowly, letting his lips drag lazily over hers as his hand crept beneath her t-shirt.

She gave a short whine when she felt his palm against her bare skin.

“Shh,” he cooed against her mouth, letting his tongue slip between her lips. He tasted sweet and bitter, like wine and whisky and smoke. He was still gentle though, and Jaya eased herself further into him.

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but she must have fallen asleep at some point, no matter how she wished they could have stayed in a blissful mess of warmth, lips, tongue and teeth.

Tags (comment to be added to either)

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#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x ofc #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #modern!au #aemond targaryen smut #my fics #it will come back #hozier coded

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wildemaven · 11 months

Text

Sweet Creature: Chapter One

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader (In future chapters)

WC: 4070

Summary: A washed up movie star with a failing career, fresh out of rehab and looking to turn his life around. He moves back to his small hometown to take a break from stardom and help his sister out with his niece— He’s traded the high-life for school runs and crafting. What he doesn’t except is to meet you, his niece’s school teacher who couldn’t care less about his extensive filmography or his dwindling fame.

Warning: 18+ Blog; brief description of drug use, rehabilitation/mentions of rehab stay, getting treatment for drug addiction, absent parents, anxiety, sister giving ultimatum, apologetic Dieter, determined to turn life around, cursing, if I’ve missed anything feel free to let me know.

A/N: Firstly, big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for listening to me drone on about this! And for also being a champ and beta’ing for me too!!

This chapter has some heavy elements to it, and I hope it comes across as a serious tone considering the topic of drug usage. I wanted Dieter to be deliberate in his attempt to better himself. There might be some reference to this characters contents in the future, but this will be the only one containing any actual drugs. There’s a lot of information packed into this chapter to help get the story going. I’ve been so blown away by the responses to this series and I really hope I do it justice! Any questions/comments/or you just want to chat more about this chapter, my ask box is always open!! xx

Series Masterlist / Playlist / Main Masterlist

A few sharp knocks on the bathroom door.

“Hello?? Is someone in there?”

No response.

The slightest twist of the knob. Unlocked. Unoccupied.

Only the opening of the door reveals quite the opposite. Occupied.

“Oh! I’m so so sor— Oh my god! Are you fucking serious right now?! You’re getting high at a 6 year old’s birthday party!”

No response. Just a deadpan look of nothingness from the body propped up next to the toilet.

“I fucking knew it. I knew you would fucking let her down!! God!!! You’re such a fucking deadbeat, washed up douchebag— so fucking ridiculous.”

“W-whyy a-rrre y-youuu yellllling? Shhhhh!” His speech laden with a hint of sarcasm.

“You’re a fucking joke! I can’t believe you would do this to your sister!”

“What are you yelling about in here?? Wren is getting ready to open her presents and wants everyone to watch her. Dieter why are you on the flo— are you fucking high?”

“Ag-ainnn shhhhhhh!” His pointer finger emphatically raised to his lips, the noise too much for his dazed mind.

“You promised me Dieter! You fucking promised me no drugs! I should have known better, I should have fucking known you’d do this— you don’t care about how much this hurts me to see you like this, constantly letting me down. I’m done Dieter, I’m so fucking done trying to help you if you’re not going to help yourself. Fuck! Get the fuck out! Go! Now!! I don’t want you near us, I won’t put Wren through this. Get help or stay away!”

The door slams, Dieter left alone to ruminate over what was said in the small tiled space.

Even in his stupefied state, the words thrown at him were enough to make an immediate impact. The cognitive part of his brain working over time to push through and make a levelheaded thought.

“Deadbeat”

“Washed up”

“Get help or Stay away”

Reaching for his phone, he dials his lifeline who drops everything for him, probably due to her reoccurring paycheck, his assistant whom he’s thankful doesn’t hate him enough to ignore his call out of the blue.

“Heeeey! I n-neeeed y-you to c-ommme g-get meee…”

He knew this was it, he had to get his shit together or suffer the consequences.

He feels different if he’s being honest with himself.

Lighter.

Healthier.

Alive.

365 days clean. He made a commitment to a year long stay at a drug rehabilitation center, followed by a 3 month residency in a sober living facility conveniently tucked away in the Hollywood hills.

Yet, he feels more lost than he was before he started treatment.

He can’t remember what living a normal, healthy life is like— a life not high out of his mind 24/7.

This wasn’t his first time trying to get clean, he’d become a regular of sorts at a few different rehab centers scattered through out the greater Los Angeles area.

Each stay with the same goal and each one a failed attempt at getting control over his life without the drugs.

It was never “hope this is the time it really clicks for him”, it was always a question of “how long will he go this time before he’s kicked out and checking into the next one”— might have even been a headline a time or two.

Many centers refusing to even consider treating him based on his past reputation alone.

His agent’s patience was wearing thin trying to book roles for Dieter, doing his best to convince directors he wasn’t a liability and he could get the job done with zero risk in hiring him— it was far from the truth.

Each day on set became a game of Russian Roulette, no one really knowing which side of Dieter they would be dealing with while shooting. That in itself was a metaphorical high he chased with each role he booked, seeing how long before some one caught on to his slurred words, blood shot eyes and sluggish demeanor.

On numerous occasions Dieter thought he was skillful in his ability to mask his inebriated ego. He was combative with the crew and fellow actors— his temperament calm and mellow one moment, then seething and dripping with rage the next.

He was getting sloppy. The teetering domino of his life had slowly began to tip and once it did finally fall, his entire life crumbling around him.

The traffic is heavier than expected. Dieter wonders if it’s due to others similarly seeking to leave the city in hopes for a break from the dim aura that Los Angeles is. He can feel the weight of the city’s reputation lift from his shoulders with each passing mile as he maneuvers through the stretch of freeway congestion.

A few honking horns bring his attention back to the conversation he’s currently semi engaged in.

“This is a big step Dieter. I’m really proud of how far you’ve come.”

He instantly cringes at the thought of getting back out to sell himself for roles. Facing those who were- and are- tired of his shit.

The downfall of his career began when he was late for dress rehearsal for a role he some how managed to get— this role having potential to get him in the running for award nominations, propelling his career to new heights. But when he was no where to be found at call time, his assistant went on the search for him and it’s where she found him passed out in his trailer. He was too far gone to even pull himself together, prompting the director to fire him on the spot.

The rate of speed at which news travels in Hollywood is the equivalent to a fast moving wildfire— once that first bit of gossip hits the ground, it’s spreading through the industry with a sudden surge of ferocity and growing far beyond what is predictable.

His agent's attempt at damage control was a wasted effort. Directors dumping Dieter’s preproduction roles, actors refusing to work with him and threatening to quit if Dieter stayed on— his list of films beginning to dwindle in a matter of days and by the end of the week, Dieter Bravo was jobless.

“The next few months will go by quickly, and before you know it you’ll be back out here booking jobs and proving everyone wrong.”

Vanessa, Dieter’s assistant and full time babysitter, always seemed to have a way to make him feel at ease. And at this point, the only person he knew who believed he could actually turn his life around.

“I really fucking hope so.” He sighs, this was his attempt at thinking positive.

“Have you talked to her yet?” Her voice cracking through the car speakers as he continues his drive north on the 101.

“Briefly. Told her I’d probably be getting in around 6 or so— BEEP!— Watch out asshole!” Throwing a middle finger at said asshole driver who nearly missed clipping his car.

“She’s proud of you too, ya know. Might not seem like it right now, but she is.”

“Hmm. I’ll just agree to disagree with you on that point. Having a drug addict—“

“Former drug addicted, Dieter.”

“Right— well, having a deadbeat for an older brother doesn’t really leave a lot to be proud of.”

“You’d be surprised. Hey, I got another call coming in. I’ll be in touch with you soon! Call me if you need anything! Again, Dieter, I'm really proud of you!”

“Thanks Nessa! I’ll talk to you soon.”

The call ending abruptly, leaving him to sit alone in his thoughts for the next hour and a half—something he hasn’t really taken the chance to experience since, well, a long while.

The Santa Monica Mountains provide a scenic view as he leaves behind the place he saw as his home for the last 20 years.

His current destination plugged into his stupidly expensive sports car.

Home. Where he grew up.

He can’t even remember the last time he visited. Not due to the years as an actor taking him to all areas of the world. The last time he had been home was just over a year ago and he was high out of his mind, barely remembering the trip as a whole.

His sister had asked if he’d be able to make it to his niece’s birthday. She was turning 6 and had been begging for her uncle to be there to celebrate with— he was easily her most favorite person. The specifics of the getting to his sister’s home and the actual party are pretty blurry for Dieter.

Dieter spent most of the last year trying to produce a coherent flashback of the day that would ultimately be his last time using, the reason for his commitment to getting his life together.

He never expected the lowest point in his life would be being caught in the bathroom of his sister’s home doing a few quick lines on the toilet seat, as his niece was blowing out 6 candles a few feet outside the tiny bathroom surrounded by friends and family.

The moments following are a mixture of hazy clips, fragmented bits of information,

he’s tried to piece together to the best of his ability.

The rush of someone bursting through the bathroom door, the echoes of laughter and music piercing his ears as he’s hunched on the floor against the wall, little specks of a white powdery residue dusting his mustache.

There’s screaming as he does his best to focus his blurry attention on the distorted enraged figure in front of him, yelling something about being washed up— his eye lids heavy and fighting against them to keep them opened.

If he had to recall the exact moment he knew he fucked up, it was seeing the hurt and disappointment on his sister's face— her face wet with tears as she poured out her disappointment and pain over the fact that he was strung-out at her daughter’s birthday party. The weight of his consequences bleeding through him as he vividly recalls his sister telling him to leave and not come back unless he was sober.

The next day he checked himself in, determined to get his life together for good.

He shakes away the subtle tinge of guilt that starts to bubble up in his chest.

Remembering the ‘54321 Method’ he was taught in treatment to help ground himself when his thoughts start to become overwhelming…

5 things you see: the sun slowly making its way to the horizon, cars moving swiftly by his own, Live Oak trees rooted among the mountains, the slightest twinkling of the first few stars, his reflection in the rear view mirror— lighter, healthier, alive.

4 things things to touch: the leather of the steering wheel, his jeans fabric soft and comfortable, the cool metal of his rings adorning his fingers, the weight of his sobriety chip in his pocket a constant reminder of how far he’s come.

3 things you hear: the familiar beat of a popular song streaming through the car speakers, rhythmic tapping of his thumbs in tune with the song, his off-key voice as he sings along to the words he knows.

2 things you smell: his olfactory nerve triggered at the distinct scent of his woody amber cologne, that new car smell that still lingers throughout the car’s interior.

1 thing you taste: a minty tingle on his tongue as he chews his last piece of gum.

His nerves settle, his eyes focused on the road ahead, deciding he’ll right his wrongs when he gets to his stop— his sister’s house.

The trip took longer than he’d originally planned. Weekend traffic to blame for the 2 hour delay in his arrival.

‘Welcome to Ojai’— the stone sign greets him, dim uplighting barely making it readable as he turns on to the familiar street.

The town is all but empty at this time of the night, street lights plus the few restaurants and bars that are open give off enough ambient light to drape the streets in a subtle glow.

He’s instantly taken back to his childhood, so many memories tucked away throughout the picturesque landscape.

Growing up with famous parents wasn’t all that glamorous in Dieter’s eyes.

Dieter’s parents, Dean and Mary Bravo, were both well known in the tv and movie world.

Dean had been known for his roles in James Bond-esque action films through his career, notably his best work among other smaller productions he worked on. Mary was the queen of daytime television with her numerous roles in soap opera’s biggest shows, a socialite getting invited to glamorous events and elite celebrity parties.

Together they were Hollywood’s “It” couple, jet-setting to all parts of the world when schedules allowed for it.

Dieter and his younger sister, while born into this movie star family, were raised far from it. Dean and Mary deciding to buy a home in the mountains outside of the headlines and prying eyes, a place where their kids could live a some what normal life.

Normal was anything but normal. Dean and Mary didn’t let children hold back their lives and desires of more fame. Leaving them with nannies so they could keep up with the demands of working and living their best lives.

Ojai, a small village-like town nestled in the valley of the Topanga Mountains, became a literal playground for Dieter growing up.

Little reminders of his childhood still remain as he ventures further into town. He finds himself slowing the car a bit as he takes it all in, rolling the window down to let the evening air hit his face— it’s crisp as it trickles across his skin.

The private school he attended all through his schooling years sits on top of a hill that over looks the valley. The school’s reputation was highly regarded and offered a plethora of academic courses and electives. Dieter found the art and theater programs to be where he excelled most, painting and acting fueled his passion for the arts, propelling him into pursuing one as a full time career.

He spots Bart’s Books as he drives on, an outdoor bookstore, that had become a daily hangout as a kid. The red wooden shelves still filled with adventures and history to get lost in. He discovered his love for storytelling sitting on the covered patio, nose deep in fictional worlds he dreamed of visiting.

Across the way, a ‘no vacancy’ neon sign flickers on. Capri Hotel, a newly renovated hotel that still looks like it could have come straight from the 1960s with its mid-century design and modern style. He recalls the summer when him and his buddies regularly jumped the fence to swim in the pool, the cool water under the stars was refreshing during the California heat waves. They managed to only get caught once but worked out a barter with the then owners, they clean the pool and in turn can use the pool at their leisure. The hotel seems to be under new ownership now, but it seems to be doing well.

On every corner there’s an art gallery. Some still looking as if no time had passed, others adorn new names and a fresh coat of paint. Several galleries offered summer painting classes, where Dieter found he had more creative freedom than in school to explore all mediums and really honing in on his style. He’s always imagined he’d have his own showing of his paintings, friends and family gathering to see his work— a dream he never lived out.

His car parked and engine killed, he still hasn’t found the courage to get out. He can see a few lights on from the front windows of his sister’s quaint Spanish style home. Trying to not let the vague memories of his last visit deter him from going inside. He sends Vanessa a text, letting her know he’d made it safely and that he’d text her if he needed anything.

Bags in tow, he makes his way to the front door. Nerves and emotions swirling around, reminding himself to breathe, letting go of the fear and expectations he’d had for this reunion.

He opts for knocking, assuming Wren would be sleeping at this hour.

The clicking of locks being turned, twisting of the door knob, the black wooden door swings open to the space that’s haunted him for the last year.

“Hey, Diem. Sorry I’m so—“ He starts to explain his lateness before he’s cut off.

“Dieter! Oh my god! I thought something happened to you! What the fuck?!” Her body launches at him, arms wrapping around him securely. He accepts the impromptu hug, dropping his bags to return the gesture.

“No, no I’m good. Traffic was a nightmare and by the time I thought to call, service was fucked. Sorry for making you worry.”

“You’re here and you’re safe— that’s all that matters.”

This greeting is going far better than he had expected, but he hasn’t made over the threshold, still plenty of time for Diem to drop the hammer on him.

“Come in! Let’s get you all settled in.” She ushers him in, closing the door and adjusting the locks again.

He takes the space in, noting not much has changed from what he can tell in the diffused lighting, but he feels warm and welcoming even for him.

“I got the spare room all cleaned and ready for you. New sheets on the bed and a few extra pillows just in case.” She seems skittish moving about the living room, picking up the few toys laying around the room and placing them back in their designated baskets. “If you want to sit, make yourself comfortable. You want anything to drink? Eat?”

She seems just as nervous as he is and that makes him feel less anxious for some reason.

“I grabbed some food on the way, I’m good.” Setting his bags down, he makes his way to the couch and sits down, deciding to rip the bandage off so to speak.

Diem taking his lead, sits on the opposite end of the couch, legs tucked under her and hands resting on her lap. A lull hangs over them for a few moments, neither really know what to say or do. He notices her fingers fidgeting and decides to break the silence.

“I know we haven’t talked much since the last time I was here,” He sees the brief wince on her face at the mention of it, as if she’d been actively trying to avoid talking about it. “But I want to tell you how sorry I am for—“

“Dieter, you don’t have to.”

“No, actually I do. And I’m going to. Not only because it’s part of my steps in recovery, but because you deserve it— Wren deserves it.”

“She doesn’t know— about the drugs or you going to rehab.” She doesn’t look at him as she says it.

“I won’t mention it to her then.”

“I just told her you were busy and that you’d be coming to spend time with us 'cause you missed her.”

“Why did you agree? After all the shit I’ve done and put you through, why are you letting me stay here?”

That gets her attention, her eyes glossy with unshed tears as she looks at him with nothing but love and forgiveness. “Because you’re my brother and I want you here, despite all the shit you put me through.”

He shifts closer to where she’s sitting, wiping the few tears that had decided to fall. He doesn’t think he deserves her kindness, but is grateful he has this opportunity to do what he’s been wanting to do.

“I’m sorry for the pain and hurt that I caused you. Not only at Wren’s party, but all the other times I’d said I was clean and wasn’t. For putting you both second to my addiction. I’m sorry for not being here when you needed me most. I promise I’m going to do my best to earn your trust and prove to you that I am committed to my sobriety.”

Leaning back, his hand digs into his pocket pulling out his proof, grabbing Diem’s hand and turns it over placing the chip in her palm. She looks at it then back at him, the most genuine smile graces her face before she wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him in for a hug.

“I love you Dieter! Thank you for not only doing this for us, but for yourself as well. I’m really proud of you.”

“I love you too Diem.”

Releasing Dieter from the hug, she adjusts herself back to her previous position, now more relaxed with her elbow resting on the back of the couch propping her head up as she looks at Dieter, really taking in how healthy he looks since she’d last seen him.

“Thank you for also letting me stay here. I needed to get out of the city for a bit, clear my head and shit. Should only be a few months or less, until I can get a few things lined up— have a few potential projects I requested scripts for.”

The thought of returning to his old ways terrified him, he had all the tools and support to continue working on himself outside of treatment, but he didn’t want to chance it. He instantly knew exactly where he wanted to spend the next few months re-acclimating back into this new way of living, away from temptation. Knowing their last conversation was anything but great, he'd decided an e-mail felt less grievous and hoped she’d find it in her heart to accept him back in her home again.

“Of course. Stay as long as you need to.”

“And I can help how ever you need me to, figured it would keep me busy doing stuff, help out with Wren.”

“Oh my gosh, please! It’s peak tourist season the next few weeks at the Hotel and I’ve got a handful of events we’re hosting too. School runs would be a big help for me.”

“Hotel?” He’s sure he heard her right but doesn’t remember any mention of a hotel that he can recall.

“Funny story actually-- I bought the Capri last year. Did some renovations and it’s been great really. Keeps me busy most of the time, but I love it.”

Diem was never one for the spotlight, especially with movie star family members, actively avoiding anything to do with Hollywood and its ostentatious air. She always had a knack for making drab things look enticing, so Dieter isn’t surprised one bit by the mention of her being the new owner of the Capri Hotel.

“And now that I’m the owner, you can swim for free— pool cleaning is encouraged too.” He laughs at that.

“Congrats on owning a hotel I guess. I’ll definitely be taking advantage of swimming privileges then.”

“Alright. I’m going to head to bed, got an early morning dropping Wren off before I meet with the planner for our next event.”

“I can take her tomorrow.”

“You sure? You don’t want to settle in a bit first?”

“Nah, it’ll be nice spending some time with her.”

“Okay. Prepare yourself for a wild time then.”

She kisses the top of his head before heading in the direction of her room. Stopping before turning down the hall, she looks back at Dieter who hasn’t moved from the couch, one of his hands rubbing at the opposite shoulder and leaning his head to the side to stretch it out a bit— the longer car rides really doing a number on him.

“Dieter—“

His head turns towards the direction of his name being called.

"Hmm?"

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, me too.”

#dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #sweet creature series #Pedro pascal #wildemaven writes

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