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casualhedonists · 10 months

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✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter two)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

chapter: 2/?

MASTERLIST

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, oral sex, thigh riding, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

a/n: first off, THANK YOU for the love on chapter 1. wasn’t sure how I’d fare since I’ve done a lot of writing in my life but little to no smut. with that said! longer chapter incoming. also I just know he’d give insane head okay i just do,the guy looks like he fucks and he definitely does

You weren't sure exactly how you slipped away from Snow’s room that night, but you could somewhat piece it together in flashes. First a head rush, then the fire in the pit of your stomach practically having gasoline thrown on it.

You remembered a quiet gasp escaping your lips, then panic, a flash of white, and suddenly you were stumbling away, head spinning as you tried to catch your breath, pacing unevenly down the hallway, any chance of a stealthy escape long thrown out the window.

Back in your room, once the door was bolted and your back was against it, making sure nobody could get in if they tried, you had your first shot at clear-headedness since you’d heard heels scuffing the hardwood.

You’d soaked your panties through and were dripping down your thighs, but you’d be damned if you could get into the headspace to take care of it. Panic flooded your veins, ice-hot as you tried to catch your breath. you slid down the door and sat there, legs numb against the cold wooden planks.

Who was she? A million questions filled your head all at once. Was she from the Capitol? Could she be one of Snow’s friends, one of your friends? The thought made you sick. What if you’d dined with her before? Talked to her? How long had this been happening? Who knew about it? Were you being played?

Had he seen you watching him?

Unable to help yourself, your one-track mind took you back to the way he’d groaned your name, though you were half sure that had been a fever dream of some kind. Still, you kept replaying it. Over and over, like a broken record.

It didn’t make any sense, you were so fucking confused. All this time you’d been hoping he would make a move, you’d practically begged him to. Why hadn’t he? When you were clearly on his mind, and yet he made you believe he didn’t think of you that way at all. Was he just respecting your agreement?

You fiddled with the lace on the hem of your slip as you mulled it over. You stayed sat like this for almost an hour, trying unsuccessfully to wrap your head around it. When you ended up right back where you started, and you were sure enough time had passed that if someone was coming to get you, they would’ve already, you finally stood up. Your caution led you to drag a chair from across the room, propping it up by the door to jam the handle. That left you with the sliver of peace of mind you required to shower off this cold sweat you’d formed.

The next morning, you dreaded breakfast. But you knew you had to face him, as well as the fact that this could very well be your last meal. You should at least try to eat well.

You made your way downstairs, a few minutes later than usual, enough for Coriolanus to already be sipping coffee, a few pages through his newspaper. You’d not got fully dressed yet, not wanting the contrast to be too obvious, but you’d wrapped a silk dressing gown around you so you were a little more covered up. You knew one thing for certain, you wouldn’t be trying any more of your tricks until you knew just what you were dealing with.

He didn’t look over at you, which you took as a good sign. The urge to hide from him, from what you’d seen and what you now knew, overwhelmed you. You didn’t say a word, and picked silently at your breakfast, but despite your best efforts, not managing to keep more than a few bites down.

“You’re quiet today.” He muttered, and you started.

“Um.”

He lowered his paper.

“Something wrong?”

How about everything?

“Oh, no, I’m okay. Just uh…” you glanced up at him, and met his sharp gaze. Fuck. You’d hoped you’d go unnoticed. You felt like a deer in headlights, like he could read your mind.

“Well?” He prompted, gaze unwavering. You blinked.

“Headache.” You managed to breathe, faking a small, pitiful smile.

He brought his paper back up in front of him, crisply turning the page. You both thanked the new barrier between you for cutting off his stare, and resented it as you looked at the tiny printed words you couldn’t make out from where you were sitting.

“I’ll have Lucille bring you up something.”

“Thank you.” you said quickly, almost too quickly, and you feared he might lower his paper again to watch you as you stumbled over another excuse. But you fell lucky this time.

The week seemed to pass in a blur, Monday’s gala being one of the only times you really left your room when Snow was around, other than meal times, which you spent in a similar state as that first breakfast. You cursed yourself for throwing out your longer dresses, and settled for the least suggestive of them, the white one you’d been thinking of pitching to Snow as a backup plan in your panicked state outside his bedroom. That all felt worlds away now. What you’d seen had shifted the tides, marking a solid, definitive line in your head between the before and after.

The gala went as well as it could given the circumstances. You danced, Snow was charming to you in front of the guests, but held your gaze no longer than usual. It was simultaneously terrifying and thrilling to feel his hands on your waist, knowing what you knew. It felt like you’d been tapped with a cattle prod and had to hide it every time his hand brushed yours on top of the dinner table, as unsuspecting guests smiled at you, the happy couple.

If only they knew that in the same breath, you were scanning the crowd, wondering who the blonde could’ve been, how close she was to Snow, if at all, and hating the way every touch he placed on your hands and waist served as a reminder that he’d been touching her instead of you.

Your stupid brain had formed a highlight reel of what you’d witnessed behind Snow’s door, and it tortured you with every passing moment. To know he was thinking of you. To think that maybe, he wanted you there instead. It put a strange sense of possessive pride into you, that weaved between your jealousy. Because yes, you’d seen another girl on her knees with her mouth around him, but you hadn’t heard any name other than your own while it happened.

You carried this strange hope, dwindling to start off, and then building each day that you were left un-hanged and very much alive, slowly chipping away at your fear of the worst. And yet, you knew the game, unbeknownst to Snow, had been fundamentally changed. You’d stopped your antics altogether, now barely meeting his eye as you passed each other in the hallway, covering up more at breakfast, and only talking just enough to avoid another interrogation. Avoiding touch, and conversation, and all-around keeping yourself away from him.

You were quieter still at night in your room. After a few days, you’d finally felt safe enough to move the chair away and sleep with the door locked as you normally would. But while your games had stopped, your want for him had only been amplified. Fuelled by jealousy and frustration, you had to bite down on your hand so that not even the slightest noise made its way out as you pictured him, not as you used to in your fantasies, but as you’d seen him that night, undone with your name on his lips. It was much easier, in your head, to picture yourself as the one on your knees. Any other fantasy just failed to make the cut now you’d seen the real thing.

Thursday rolled around and you’d made a new habit of pacing the downstairs library when Coriolanus was out of the house. That way, if he got home and stepped inside, you could pretend to be lost in a book. But the hours seemed to stretch out and you became bored, and with no Snow in sight, you decided to head down to the servants’ quarters.

This wasn’t a common occurrence, but it wasn’t unheard of. You were known for your gentleness among the house staff, less harsh than Snow, but firm nonetheless. It had led you to a respectful friendliness with the maids and servants, and once every so often you’d check in on them.

Today’s objectives, however, were purely self-motivated. You found Lucille, who dressed you, at the kitchen table, chopping vegetables.

She stood upon seeing you, and curtseyed (Snow was rather old fashioned that way). You nodded, then took a seat at the foot of the table.

“Do you need any help with that?” You glanced at the cutting board.

Lucille’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Ma’am.”

You laughed. Lucille chopped and diced, and you asked questions. At first, they were after her family, her brother was sick and despite your offers, she wouldn’t accept help. So instead you listened, and slowly but surely, your questions got a little more directed toward the object of your interest.

You were good at playing the long game, so you started by asking about the company he kept. What she thought of them, with the promise that it would stay between the two of you, cross your heart.

She wouldn’t say much but she knew a little more than you; Snow kept very similar company as you did, and rarely went out for social visits. Any trips were strictly work-related, and when you eased into the topic of his past, Lucille mentioned, in very polite terms, that he had left a small trail of women heartbroken after a short period of time. That not all of them had been pleasant, and that she was pleased you seemed to have a positive effect on him.

She knew about your arrangement, practically the whole staff did, but they were kept on a very tight leash and were thoroughly reminded to not say a word acknowledging it, not even to you. It was with a knowing glance that Lucille told you she was happy you’d stayed around.

You smiled. Knowing that was likely all you were going to get for now, you let her be. By then, it was late enough to have gone dark, and you headed up to bed.

You awoke to creaking outside your door, and the shadow of footsteps from underneath it. You’d been tossing and turning for the last - you checked your watch - two hours. Excellent. You rolled onto your back wondering who it was, and then you heard it again. At first you wondered if it was just a sleep-deprived hallucination, or a sense of deja-vu, but then you focused, and there it was. The sound of heels. Again.

You sat up in bed, pushing your hair out of your face. You were enraged the first time, but if this was becoming a Thursday night tradition, it would be a serious problem. You were tired, you reasoned, you could just try to go back to sleep. Ignore it. Not let him have this power over you, a power that he didn’t even know he had. All the more reason to ignore it, and make it tomorrow’s problem.

But you just couldn’t let sleeping dogs lie, no matter how hard you tried. Your mother used to say it was a problem, always sticking your nose in places it didn’t belong. But it had got you this far, hadn't it?

You knew you were going to follow her to Snow’s room again, it was just a matter of time. You had to at least pretend you had an ounce of self-control, whereas really your head was thrumming and you knew it would take getting hit by a high-speed train to send you back to sleep now.

So you held off. Five minutes passed. Then ten. You had to know, at least, what they were doing. Maybe you could get a look at her face, see who it was, and answer some of the questions you had.

So you went. With a purpose this time, knowing full well what and who you’d end up seeing, trying to take steady breaths and focus on your plan. Check who it was, then leave.

You’d never been that great at execution. Call it hedonism, call it a morbid fascination, or living vicariously, but when you walked up to the door - which was ajar again, strangely even more than last time, by at least an inch or two - you looked inside, and your feet planted. The last shred of your self-control allowed you to take in the room first, the desk and chair that was right within your sight, and as you tucked yourself into the room, half hidden behind the door, you finally looked back at the bed where you’d seen Snow with his blonde girl last time.

Neither of them were sitting now.

Thirty seconds ago, you would’ve believed the hottest thing you’d ever seen was what played out in this room last week. But that was before you saw Snow turned away from you, still fully dressed with his sleeves rolled up, stomach on the bed and face between the blonde’s thighs, eating her out like he was on death row and she was his last meal.

You’d gotten head before. You knew it felt good, but the boys you’d slept with before your arrangement with Snow were selfish and inattentive. They would try, but they were far more interested in getting their dicks wet than showing you a good time. But Snow - you’d never seen anything like it. You didn’t know it could feel that good, or at least, not as good as the blonde girl - who you noted in the back of your mind, wasn’t anyone you recognised - was making it look. Her hips were bucking so hard he was having to pin her down with both hands around her waist.

She was just moving so much, wriggling and crying out and gasping and - you didn’t think you’d ever truly known jealousy until that moment. You couldn’t look away, knees weak and hands shaking, letting yourself get sucked into this headspace again, losing all trace of rationality. You’d think she was playing it up for him, but you knew what that sounded like. You’d faked enough orgasms to know if she was, but this? This was real. As she got close, grinding into him, writhing, running a shaky hand through his hair then getting louder, you managed to snap out of your trance.

In a flash, you ran back down the hallway.

If you thought you were avoiding Snow before, this week was about to give you a run for your money. You took breakfast in your room, and kept only to the parts of the house you knew he never entered. You only touched yourself in the shower, silent cries washed away by the water and steam, paranoia backing you into a corner.

You feigned illness the one time Snow sent a maid to inquire after you. Nothing too major, but enough to put him off. When he left the house, you snuck into the library to smuggle books back to your room, a pile forming as you tried ceaselessly to distract yourself.

You wrote home, you studied art and history. You attempted a few terrible sketches. You tore apart your room, then put it back together.

Before you knew it, Thursday rolled around again. On longer days like this, when Snow had been away working for hours at a time, you’d doubled down on your efforts to get information, and after chipping away for just long enough, you finally managed to squeeze some tidbits out of Lucille. Namely that there was a certain gentleman’s club in the city that he used to frequent before his election as President. Snow’s old driver might know its name, she said.

“But that was long before he met you, ma’am, rest assured.” She added hurriedly.

“Of course. Thank you, Lucille. I think I’ve kept you for long enough. Goodnight.”

Snow had been gone for the whole day, and you weren’t sure if he’d come home yet, so as you headed up to your room, you quietly wandered a little further down the hallway, to check if there was any light beneath his door. There wasn’t. Good. You were glad he wouldn’t be continuing this routine of his. Maybe this Thursday night, you could sleep peacefully.

With a sigh, and mulling over what you’d learned today, you returned to your room, poured a drink, then collapsed into bed.

This night was as sleepless as the rest, and you’d been drifting - not uncomfortably - in and out. A storm was brewing outside, and the sounds of howling wind began to keep you alert. You rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling, then glanced towards your door. Snow must’ve come home at some point, and very late at that, because dim lights had been turned on in the hallway. Paranoia crept into your mind, slowly poisoning your thoughts and turning you inside out.

It didn’t take long before the feeling pushed you to roll out of bed, slide on a dressing gown, and crack open your door. This time, you couldn’t hear footsteps, or anything that might arise suspicion. You closed the door again. Waited. Then looked around your room, at the messy sheets and the half finished glass of liquor on the nightstand. You rarely drank alone, but these past few weeks had been getting to you, fucking with your head. Coriolanus Snow had driven you to this.

The wind got louder, and you knew you were too wired to sleep, so you stood by your window and finished the glass.

You’d never been good with mysteries. You wanted to know everything, all the time. Know who had power over you, know precisely how to take it away. Know exactly what was happening around you at any given moment. But most of all, you didn’t like being played for a fool.

And sure, the ethics of it had never been discussed between the two of you. Your business was strictly professional, but when you weren’t allowed to sleep around, why could he?

In fact, how dare he?

You poured another glass, straight whiskey. Downed it, pacing your room, back and forth between the door and the window, running your fingers along the ridges of the crystal glass. You thought about him, comfortably in his room, not a care in the world.

How dare he.

You weren’t sure if it was the drink or the buildup of your situation that had your blood boiling, but it didn’t matter. You were incensed. His behaviour was an insult to your name, to your family’s name. Sure, this relationship was a sham, but all the more reason for him to act with basic fucking respect. Sleeping with - and very obviously, at that - a whore, who had a bad habit of leaving the door cracked open, was unacceptable.

You were running hot, and if you knew one thing for certain, it was that when Snow met with fire, he was going to melt. You’d make sure of it.

Your feet took you into the hallway, with the decidedness that this would be the last time.

You rushed down the corridor with a tightly bottled rage that was about to burst, words hot on your tongue and demanding to be spoken, until you turned the corner and saw Snow’s door half open. You stopped in your tracks. Reassessed, then stepped closer, slowly, steadily. Remembering what you were there for.

Then, as you got close enough to see inside - right there, without you even having to step past the threshold, were the two of them, lit by a table lamp, Snow sat on the desk chair as the girl rode him to high heaven, obscene noises getting louder. As you approached you saw Snow’s face again, eyes shut, breath laboured, and you couldn’t believe that anyone just walking by would be able to see this. They were fucking like animals, out in the open. You didn’t know how or why you drew closer still, closing in on them. The girl’s head was dropped down to his shoulder, back facing you, and couldn’t see you unless she turned, but Snow? He was practically facing the door, almost as if he’d been…

No. It couldn’t be. Could it?

But you didn’t have time to think it through, because Snow’s eyes blinked open, and you knew. He was looking right at you, blue eyes piercing into yours, sharp and dangerous like he was going in for the kill. You stood there, jaw dropped, unable to look away. In what world could you walk in on someone like this, and feel like they held all the cards, and you none? That was how he looked at you; like you’d been there watching the whole time, and this was all a show, playing out exactly as he’d planned it. Like somehow, despite all your best efforts, he’d landed on top.

It was like he read your mind, because he wet his lips, unblinking as the blonde writhed on his lap, and fucking smirked.

a/n: can’t wait for them to hate fuck after this (oh sorry forgot i’m the author for a sec) thanks for reading <3

taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii

if you’d like to be tagged, please leave a comment on the masterlist!! 💌

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #snow x reader #snow x you #the hunger games #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow smut #tom blyth

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lovecla · 22 days

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IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter four:

➴ warnings: angst, jealousy, insecurities

➴ word count: 3.9k

➴ author’s note: this is a mess, soph and jack are a mess, quinn’s a sweetheart, grace’s funny af and i’ve reached 100 followers today. can’t even describe how happy i am with the attention IYLM,LMK is getting. i adore u all so much and i hope u stick with me for a while. prepare your seatbelts because shit is about to hit the fan. :,)

SOMETHING changed between you and Jack that day at the Skims set, a week ago.

You finally realized that you are, very much, in love with Jack Hughes. Which was something that you never, in a million years, would’ve guessed. Because, what; you told yourself you’d never get your heart shattered again, yet here you were, walking straight (and worse: willingly) into a trap, falling in love with the man whore of the Devils team.

Despite all of the mean things your mind wanted to tell you, you just forced yourself to remember that not every man is like your cheater ex boyfriend and that not every man would completely crush your heart and tear it apart.

And even though you wouldn't put your hand on the fire and say that he felt the same way as you, if he didn’t, that man was good at pretending. Because no way in hell he’d take all of his fuck buddies to their family lake cabin to throw a Halloween party.

“This is crazy, Jack, you are in the middle of the season, and I’m in the middle of releasing something…” you started, watching as the car took a turn. “Also, how the fuck did you manage to organise a party in, like, thirty minutes?”

“Uh. I’m literally a NHL player. What did you expect?” He scoffed, so full of himself it was almost impossible to stand. You rolled your eyes. “And it’s just a night. I’m not screwing everything up for having fun for one night only, baby, and neither is you.”

“I guess you’re right.” You mumbled, answering some texts messages on your phone.

“I’m always right.” You rolled your eyes again, watching as he drove with ease. “What are you wearing tonight?”

“My fans have been dying for me to dress up as Rapunzel, so I might as well please them.” You shrugged, locking your phone and putting it on your pocket.

“I don’t know about them but I am definitely pleased with the idea.” He smirked.

“You’re just horny, Hughes. Happens to the best of us.”

“Or you’re just pretty. Happens to some of us.”

You laughed, cheeks warm and heart beating fast. “You’re a flirt, Jack Hughes. I missed that. Is it always this crazy during the season?”

“Like you can’t even imagine. My life is just games, working out, eating plain shit and practice for seven months straight.”

“And you love every second of it, don’t you?”

He smiled, white teeth making the view seem a whole lot brighter. “I do, yes. It’s like… the only thing that makes me feel truly alive.”

“Yeah, I know what it feels like,” you whispered. “I feel like that when I’m on the stage too. It’s just… I don’t know. Makes me feel good.”

“I like seeing you on stage,” he nodded and you raised your brow. “What? I do, really. That concert I went to with Nico was fun. Besides, watching you dance with those little dresses of yours is something else.”

“Boo, you’re just an idiot!” You laughed. “But thank you, Jackie bear.”

“Sophia, Jesus, do not call me that,” he whined, but the smile was still on his lips. “Gross.”

“Okay, Jackie bear, whatever you want, honeypot.”

“Sophia!”

— ♡

THE cabin was packed with people, and you were amazed with how fast people arrived, even with the short notice.

You were waiting for Grace to finish getting ready— she would be wearing a Tiana costume, matching your Rapunzel one— so you both could go downstairs and enjoy the party.

“Jack’s going to have a heart attack when he sees you with that little skirt,” Grace said, while applying lip gloss on her plump lips.

“Yeah, about that… I might need to talk to you about something.” You started, crossing your legs.

She stared at you through the mirror, raising her eyebrows. “Go on, Pinky Pie.”

“I thought we’d established that I’m Twilight and you’re my Mordecai?” You giggled, making Grace laugh too.

“I guess we can pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars…” she sighed. “Go on, then, baby. We don’t have all night.”

“So. I may or may have a thing for Jack. Actually, maybe more than just a thing. Think I’m in love, to be honest,” you waited to see her reaction, not expecting her to jump out of the vanity and start twirling around the room, making you laugh. “What are you doing?”

“Are you joking?” She looked at you like you’d grown a second head. “I just won two hundred bucks!”

Confusion took over your face. “What do you mean?”

“I told Nico that you’d be in love with Jack by the end of October and he said you’d be in love with him by the end of November, and since you confessed it now— perfect timing, by the way— I get my two hundred bucks!” She started dancing and jumping, like she wasn’t a nepo baby.

“Grace! What the hell, this is serious!” You raised your arms.

She sat back on the bed.

“Girl, no it isn’t. Just go to him and say: hey, buddy, here’s a secret not so secret: I’m in love with you.” She shrugged. “Just don’t sing the Airplanes song, please. That’s, like, our thing.”

“Grace, I— I can’t even— what the hell,” you wanted to run your hands through your hair, but you remembered that you were wearing extensions and a tiara. So you stick with biting your nails instead. “First of all, why the fuck would you and Nico bet on something like this? That doesn’t even make sense. Second, I can’t just go over there, call him and tell him I like him. That’s not how it works.”

“Well, Nico was the one who proposed the idea of betting so that’s on him!” She raised a finger. “And yes, that is literally how it works.”

“You’re forgetting that this is Jack Hughes. A guy who, apparently, can’t stay a week without a pussy and fucked every Jerseywoman who walked on God’s green earth.”

“Ew, don’t say that! You know my mom’s New Jersian…” she sighed, making a disgusted face. You smiled, apologetically. “Okay. I know that Jack’s past may not be the ideal background you want for your baby daddy but hear me out!”

“Baby daddy? What—”

“Jack hasn’t touched anyone else since you guys started… well. Fucking.” She blushes, like she wasn’t calling him your baby daddy not even a minute ago. “And he’s a great, great person. I’ve seen how he looks at you and if that man isn’t in love, then I’m white as a sheet of paper.”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, feeling frustrated. “Harris also seemed like a great guy, and when we got together, everything changed. I don’t want to go through that ever again.”

“I know it hurt, and God knows I’d rather mop the entire ocean than to see you like that again,” she scooched closer, grabbed your hands and pressed her lips together, the REM Beauty lip gloss making her lips look magical. “But you have to give yourself that chance again. It’s been more than a year, and I’ve seen you and Jack together.”

“I know that, but—”

Grace clicked her tongue, a tsc reverberating on the bedroom walls.

“I’m telling you this as someone who isn’t inside that little head of yours,” she whispered, holding your hands tighter. “You and Jack together? Girl, that’s meant to be. That’s like Achilles and Patroclus, Romeo and Juliet, Hazel and Gus—”

“Girl, what the hell, can’t you find a couple who at least one of them is still alive?” You scoffed.

“Sorry, I just love depressing stories…” she apologized before starting talking again. “That’s not the point, anyway, Miss Girl and you know it! Fuck whatever your head is telling you, Soph: you deserve to be loved and you deserve to love.”

“I didn’t say I love h—” she put a hand over your mouth, interrupting you.

“You don’t have to. I know you, Soph, and the look you get on your face whenever you talk to him, or even better, talk about him, is enough for me,” she kissed your cheek, quickly wiping the lip gloss stain on your face. “And let me tell you a secret, honeybun, he has the same look on his face.”

You smiled, cheeks carmesim and heart full. Thanking Grace for saying all of this wasn’t enough, you needed to buy her a house on the beach with a very naked Nico Hischier inside of it. Maybe that’s what you were going to do.

If only you knew how to convince Nico to be naked at a beach house, you’d certainly—

Someone knocked on the door, and you both got up, surprisingly fast, remembering that you were not alone and that there was a whole party happening downstairs.

Opening the door, you faced Jack who looked way too hot with his own jersey. Of course he’d be wearing a Jack Hughes, NHL Player costume. Of fucking course.

“You were taking too long up here so I came to check on you but maybe we’ll be here for a bit longer.” He smirked, hands finding your corset-covered waist instantly.

“Hum—”

“Excuse me, Mr. I-can’t-keep-myself-in-my-pants, I’m still here.” Grace yelled behind you, and you watched as his entire face showed his annoyance.

“Yeah, I can see. Feel free to leave, though,” he rolled his eyes, holding your right hand and twirling you around. “You look so pretty, baby.”

Your entire face felt like a fireplace but you still smiled nonetheless. “Thank you.”

“You both are disgusting, excuse me,” Grace walked past the both of you, mumbling something about checking in with her husband.

“Let’s go.” He offered you his hands, which you promptly held.

Going downstairs, you were surprised with how full the house was. Like, there were at least fifty people there, which seemed insane for a cabin, no matter how large it was.

Jack dragged you around, saying “hi” to every person you walked by, true to his NHL playboy persona. To your amusement, some people also acknowledged you. Mostly some girls and a few guys. It was nice.

“Sophia!” You heard a shout and immediately knew who it was. Trevor Zegras, wearing a pirate costume, which was just an excuse for him to be shirtless, really. One of the most annoying people you’ve ever met. Truthfully. “Damn, I’d climb that tower for you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’d push you down that shit, Zegras, fuck off.”

Jack laughed softly beside you, moving until you were both sitting on the couch. Quinn, Luke, Nico, Grace and Zegras were all there, talking with a few people you didn't know the name of.

“You can't say you don’t like me without trying me first.” Trevor suggested, looking directly at your face. You showed him your middle finger.

“No one wants to try you, Zegras, now fuck off,” Jack stated before sipping on the beer he stole from Luke, who was dressed as a cooking chef. Or at least that’s what it looked like.

“See, this is why Quinn’s my favorite Hughes,” he mumbled, smiling at Quinn. “Anyway, Soph knows where the heat’s at.” Pointing at himself, Zegras moved on to the girl on his right, who seemed awfully pleased to be his second option.

“Asshole.” You heard Jack mutter under his breath and you giggled, amused.

“Be nice. He’s just… in heat, I guess,” you shrugged, already used to Zegras’ comments. Every time you saw him, he had something new to add to the list. Usually, you’d tell him to fuck off, and he would.

“He’s a pain in my ass, that’s what he is.” Jack bickered, pouting like a ten-year-old child. You found it cute.

“Poor Jackie, huh?”

“Shut up, Soph.” He smiled, blue eyes bright and kind.

Now that you knew what those backflips your heart did every time you saw him smile meant, it was much harder to control them.

Confessing to Jack would break the no-strings-attached arrangement that you both had silently made. It would meant either dating him and having your happily ever after (even if you hardly believed in those) or having your heart broken (again) by a really nice guy who just wanted to fuck you.

Besides that, you were both well-known people, especially you. You remember all too well when you were at home, chilling after a concert, and you got several texts from your friends and family, regarding a bunch of pictures of Harris kissing another girl at a bus stop station. A fucking bus stop station.

The situation dragged on for months, every time you’d post something, people would mention the fact that your ex was a cheater, you had been cheated on and that somehow you deserved to get cheated on; because of the things you sang, because of the clothes you were. Just a shit show with an even shittier audience.

“Hey,” you heard Jack’s voice beside you, and you turned your head around, looking at him. “Where'd you go?”

“Nowhere,” you smiled; it didn’t reach your eyes. Jack seemed to be ready to talk back when a girl— brunette with the greenest eyes you’ve ever seen— threw herself at his lap.

“Jackieeee.” She whined, kissing his cheek. “I missed you.”

You could tell she was a little tipsy, but even so, it made your stomach ache anyway. That ugly, shattering feeling of feeling like less than less came back, and it was as if you could feel the narrator of your story preparing himself to repeat the same shit again. Here’s Sophia again, the girl who likes to mistake butterflies for cardiac arrests.

“Hi…” Jack sounded unsure, something he rarely did. You looked at Grace, and she looked right back at you. Only then you realized that basically everyone was staring at you.

“You don’t remember me?” The girl sounded like she was pouting and you cringed. She was so close to you, sitting on his lap, that her left thigh was brushing against your arm. “That’s fine. I’ll make sure to be unforgettable this time, baby.”

“Wow, I think that’s it for me,” you muttered, getting up from the couch, moving to the kitchen without looking back. You knew that you’d throw up if you did; not because of Jack and Mrs. Unforgettable, but because of the pity stares you knew people were giving you. It sucked.

You also knew that if you stayed inside the house for too long, you’d end up drunk and pissed off. And you didn’t want that. So you did the only thing that you knew would put your mind in the right place again: going to the lake.

You walked outside, feeling the cold breeze hit your face and legs and arms and— everywhere, really. You should have worn a sweatshirt, but now it was too late to go back. You’d rather turn into a popsicle than to go back there and watch that again.

Sitting on the dock, you watched the lake in front of you, listening to the sounds of insects and trees moving. It was a nice view, but probably nicer in the summer. Right now it just looked like a Criminal Minds crime scene.

Lost in thoughts, you didn’t hear the steps coming from behind you. “You’re gonna get sick.”

Letting out a scream, you turned around, facing Quinn, who was wearing a pilot costume, with a scowl on your face.

“Sweet Jesus, Quinn, what the hell,” you put your hand on your barely covered chest, taking a deep breath. “Don’t you know how to, I don’t know, make noise while you walk?”

“I did that, actually, you just didn’t hear it,” he sat down beside you, handing you a Canucks sweatshirt. “Thought you’d get cold.”

You smiled, thanking him and putting it on, trying not to ruin your hair and makeup.

“Thank you, Quinn. That’s nice. Go Canucks!” You raised your hand, making a fist bump, hearing his soft chuckle beside you. You sighed. “I don’t know if you’re here to try to make me feel better or anything like that, but you don’t have to. I’m fine, really.”

“I’m just here because you needed a sweater and because it’s kinda creepy to be here alone. Nothing else, I promise.”

You looked at him, once again surprised with the Hughes men. But then, they were raised by Ellen, so you shouldn’t really be surprised.

You nodded, choosing not to say anything, just feeling the breeze on your face, a million thoughts in your head.

Now what? What would you even say to Jack? Hey, yeah, I know that when we started this we said that we didn’t want to fall in love but guess what! I’m in love with you.

And what would he even say to you? It wasn’t his fault he didn’t like you back. He’d probably say something like yeah, you fucked up our arrangement now I’ll have to find someone else to fuck every week. You were fun, though! and move on with his life.

And you’d move on with yours, just like you did before. The thing is, you didn’t want to move on again. You spent five years into your twenties trying to move on from things and it was tiring as hell. Moving on from broken friendships? Tiring. Moving on from toxic people? Tiring. Moving on from your cheater boyfriend? Tiring and humiliating.

You were pulled from your thoughts by Quinn throwing rocks at the lake, laughing when he couldn’t make them float like he intended to. He looked at you with that tired expression of his, and smiled back.

“Great album, by the way,” he blurted out of nowhere.

You frowned. “Thank you, I guess. Did someone leak it?”

“No,” he laughed, shortly. “Jack talked about it in our family group chat a while ago. Ma asked about you and he went on rambling about it, which was really funny. He was like, putting on his uniform before practice and recording a voice note at the same time, which he never does. And then he went full rambling about all of the songs and how shitty your ex was. Sorry about that,”

You looked at Quinn like he had grown two more heads, four more arms and five more legs. You had no idea Jack talked about your songs with his family. At all.

You wanted to ask more about it to Quinn so bad but you were kinda scared about what you were going to hear in response. Does Jack talk about me?

About you? Yeah, and a lot of other girls too.

“Sure,” you mumbled. “Yeah, Harris was a dick,”

“I liked some of his movies but now he’s banned from my watchlist forever.” Quinn announced like the statement didn’t make your heart break and mend at the same time, his tone calm and distant. “It’s good that you found something to channel your pain though. I do that a lot during my games.”

“Singing for me is like breathing. I’ve done it since I was, like, eight or even younger,” you nodded to yourself, looking at the stars above you. “This album means a lot to me, in a lot of ways. So thank you for telling me this.” You smiled, not sure if he could see it. He was also looking at the stars.

“Don’t need to say ‘thank you’. You have a gift, Sophia. I hope you know that,” he stretched himself, yawning and wrapping his arms around his middle. “I wish I could write songs but I suck at that.”

“Why do you sound like you’ve tried that already?” You smirked, fucking with him.

Or at least you thought you were, because Quinn went quiet, which confirmed your suspicions.

“What!” You looked at him, throwing your arms up. “Have you written songs before?”

“I was thirteen, okay? I just thought that maybe if I didn’t make it to the NHL, I could at least be a rapper or something.” He shrugged, again, which only made you start laughing. “I know, it’s funny. Thankfully, I made it to the NHL.”

“I don’t know, it’d be great to make a song with you,” you said, playfully, before realising something. “Oh my God, Quinn. That’s what I need!”

“What?” He smirked. “Make a song with me? I don’t think that’s a great idea—”

“No, not a song with you. Just a song. I need to write,” You nodded to yourself, getting up and fixing your skirt with your hands. “Do you think I could get a cab here? I came with Jack and I think he’s…” you bit your lip. Focus. Write the song; it will all be better. “Busy. And Grace needs to have her fun, too. She’s been working nonstop.”

“A cab? Soph, it’s like midnight,” he got up, too, standing in front of you. “I can take you home. It’s no biggie.”

“What? No! Enjoy the party! I’ll just try to catch an Uber or something.” You went to grab your phone, just to remember that you left it at the cabin. “Ugh, fuck, I need to go inside again.”

“I will take you home, no need for Ubers or anything like that. Just tell me where your things are and I’ll pick them up for you. I’ll talk to Grace on my way there.” He affirmed, walking with you towards the cabin, the loud music slowly filling up your ears again.

“That’s… so nice,” you breathed, more grateful than you’d like to admit. “Thank you, Quinn, seriously. I owe you.”

“It’s fine,” he replied, hands in his pockets. “Wait a second here, please.”

You did, and it wasn’t long until he showed up with your backpack, your phone and a very worried Grace beside him.

“Girl, what the hell?” She yelled, probably not even realizing how loud she sounded. “I’ve been looking for you like crazy and out of nowhere Quinn shows up with your stuff, saying he will get you home.”

“I have to write a song.” You reasoned, raising your shoulders.

Grace stared at you for what felt like forever, until she pressed her lips on your forehead and sighed. “Alright. I’m not even going to ask. Be safe, please, and remember that I’m only a phone call away.”

“Thank you, I love you.” You kissed her back, following Quinn on the way to his car, not bothering to look back.

Jack was probably busy anyway.

— ♡

HANDS around the guitar, you replayed the same melody you’ve been playing for five hours straight now.

You arrived home at one thirty in the morning, and even though you were awfully tired, you had to get the lyrics, the feelings, the emotions out of you. Fuck sleeping.

You offered your guest room for Quinn but he just shook his head, saying that he’d crash at his parents’. You made him call you when he arrived there so you knew he was safe, which he promptly did.

After that, you made yourself tea and sat in your home studio, writing obsessively. It had been a long time since the last time you had a song practically written in your head, and honestly, you couldn’t tell if that was good or not.

What you knew, though, is that now, five hours later, seven a.m. in the morning, you had a song. Bad for Business. You sent it to your producer and Grace before laying on your bed and drifting away immediately, the exhaustion taking over you.

#jack hughes #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x oc #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x singer!fmc #jack hughes x singer!reader #jack hughes smut #IYLMLMK

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idyllicwillowtree · 3 months

Text

God Eddie, You're So In Love With Me. (part 3)

Genre: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader, fem!reader, angst/fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers

Summary: Being in Hellfire, you’ve been exposed to your fair share of bullying. One day, Jason takes it a step too far.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: bullying, anaphylaxis, poisoning, no physical descriptions of Y/N so you don’t have to look like Dustin, reader uses she/her, reader has a peanut allergy, swearing, angy Eddie, hospital

Author’s note: I'm so so sorry this is so late! but I did it!

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Part 1 ; Part 2

Love, a word so potent, was now intertwined with his thoughts of your relationship. Eddie knew he liked you, a lot, but his brain never brought him to love. He replayed moments from your friendship in his head, searching for the signs, trying to decipher if Dustin was telling the truth. If the sentiment was truly real. A mix of surprise and uncertainty overwhelmed him, but there was also something warm and hopeful there. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

He needed to see you and hear it from you directly. A million thoughts and memories raced through his mind, but one thing was clear–he needed to be with you, to tell you how he felt.

The first thing you noticed was the soft hum of medical equipment surrounding you, followed by a sterile scent lingering in the air. The steady beeping of monitors consistently interrupted the silence as you slowly blinked away unconsciousness. You turned your head slightly, eyes adjusting to the brightness of your hospital room.

First, you notice Dustin snoozing next to Steve on the couch to your right. Dustin’s mouth hung open as he leaned practically all of his weight into Steve’s side. He most likely fell asleep before Steve, making him unable to move from his spot. You would’ve felt bad for the former King of Hawkins if you thought he was actually annoyed by your little brother’s presence, but he obviously had a soft spot for him.

It was then you noticed the weight on your left hand. You turned your head lazily and there he was. Slouched over your arm, his hair rudely obstructing your view of his relaxed face as his steady breath moved a strand in and out of his mouth. You did your best to slip your hand out, a desperate attempt to push the hair out of his face, but all you did was startle him awake.

Eddie’s top half shot upwards, brown eyes as wide as saucers and hair sticking out in all different directions. He flailed his arms wildly in an attempt to fight off an invisible attacker and let out a high pitched squeak that woke up your brother and Steve. Eddie’s eyes scanned the room wildly, a mix of confusion and fear before realizing where he was.

He didn’t even notice you were awake until you started giggling at him.

Eddie’s gaze snapped to yours, he didn’t have time to memorize the way your laugh sounded right after waking up before Dustin launched himself at you. Attacking you in a hug that squished all the air out of your lungs.

Eddie stepped back a bit, unsure of where to belong in this situation. He didn’t want to interrupt a moment between brother and sister. Steve was easing Dustin off of you so you could breathe again and Eddie couldn’t help but wonder how King Steve managed to fit himself into the Henderson family so easily. He seems to blend in effortlessly into your sibling relationship that it planted a seed of doubt in Eddie’s chest.

“What happened?” you asked after Dustin sat back.

“You had an allergic reaction.”

“Oh…right,” you said quietly as the memories slowly came back to you. Of course, it’s just your luck a damn peanut sends you closer to death than any demogorgon, demodog, russian spy or mind flayer ever did.

“Powell took Carver in for questioning,” Steve said.

Dustin scoffed.

“He may not be Hopper,” Steve added, “but he hasn’t let him go despite Carver’s dad throwing a fit about the whole thing. We have a whole cafeteria of witnesses so he’ll have a hard time getting out of this one.”

You eyed Eddie standing awkwardly in the corner, toeing one of the tiles on the floor with his beat up Reeboks. Doing everything in his power to not make eye contact with you. Before you could question it, the door swung open.

"Excuse me," a nurse said gently as she entered the room, "Y/N needs rest right now. Her body has been through a lot. I suggest you all head home for the night and come back tomorrow when she's feeling a bit better."

Dustin looked ready to protest, but you squeezed his hand, silently urging him to listen. He nodded solemnly and turned to gather his things. Steve stood up, giving you a warm smile, although you didn’t send one back.

Your eyes met Steve’s with a gentle yet persistent gaze. A subtle tension filled the hospital room, unnoticeable to Eddie and Dustin. Your eyes flicked towards the former, then back at Steve, only to be met with a confused look on his face. He stared at you dumbly, mouth agape in an ‘o’ shape, trying to decipher your expression.

You grew more urgent, eyes darting towards Eddie again, praying the metalhead wouldn’t look up and notice the silent conversation you were having with Steve.

Finally, realization dawned in his eyes and with a quick nod and a teasing grin Steve gripped Dustin’s shoulders and steered him out the door.

“What the- Steve!”

“Anyway, get better soon Y/N/N! I’ll get Dustin home safe and sound,” Steve rushed out.

“Let me say bye to my sister!”

Steve pulled him into the hallway before Dustin could protest any more, the door swung shut and effectively cutting off their bickering.

With the other boys gone, your eyes softened as you turned towards Eddie, a warm smile formed across your face as you tried to catch his eye.

“Glad you’re okay Y/N. I’ll uh…I’ll see you around,” he moved to follow Steve and Dustin out but hesitated at the door.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?” He turned to you, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Maybe…you could stay here? I mean, only if you want to. You’ve already done so much for me already, I don’t want to force you or anything…” you trailed off.

Eddie was fidgeting, bouncing on the balls of his feet and wiping his sweaty palms over and over again on his ripped jeans.

“Do you want me to stay?” Eddie asked quietly.

The timidness in his voice caught you off guard for a moment but you didn’t hesitate to answer, “yes. I want you to stay.”

Eddie’s eyes shine with fondness as he walks back to his chair at the side of your bed. You sent him a warm tight lipped smile as he got himself comfortable on the stiff plastic seat.

The air between you both felt heavy with unspoken feelings and words, interrupted only by the footsteps in the hallway and the gentle hum of medical equipment. Eddie stole glances at you, his heart pounding so hard he could almost see it through his Hellfire shirt. You could feel the weight of his gaze, sensing the turmoil in his head.

Finally, unable to bear the silence you asked, “what day is it?”

“Uh,” Eddie said, looking at the digital watch on his wrist, “technically it’s Saturday morning.”

“WHAT?!” your eyes widened in horror. “Eddie, your campaign!”

“What?” Eddie asked.

“You worked so hard on it! Ugh, I’m so sorry Eddie-” you cut yourself off at the look in Eddie’s eyes. There was a vulnerability you had never seen before.

And then, without any warning, Eddie’s facade crumpled. Tears filled his eyes and flowed down his cheeks in steady streams. He turned away from you, shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs.

Your heart shattered at the sight, “Eddie, I’m sorry. We can do it when I get out of here, I promise.”

“Fuck, that’s not-” Eddie gripped his hair in frustration. He could spin fantasy stories into gold but finding the right words to express his feelings never came easy to him.

Sensing that this breakdown was not about the campaign you reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Hey,” you whispered. “It’s okay.”

Eddie shook his head, unable to speak through the tears, but he still leaned into your touch. You tugged at his sleeve gently and that was all Eddie needed to sit on the edge of your bed and collapse into your embrace.

“I-I mean, you were the one who almost died but…but,” Eddie let out a heart wrenching whimper into your shoulder. “Fuck, it was j-just so scary. I didn’t know what to do.”

You hold him gently, arms wrapped tightly around him in a comforting embrace. You could feel him trembling, his breathing was uneven as he attempted to suppress more sobs. Your heart ached at the thought of Eddie seeing you almost die the way you did.

You stroke his surprisingly soft hair, whispering soothing words of comfort and reassurance. As Eddie’s cries subside into quiet sniffles, you continue to hold him until he slowly peeled himself away. He aggressively swipes the tears and snot from his face, keeping his gaze pointed downward.

“Sorry,” Eddie sniffed, embarrassed by his outburst.

You push the hair out of his face and behind his ear, a gesture that felt strangely natural. “It’s okay, Eddie. It’s really scary to witness someone choke to death on nothing. It messed Dustin up for a while.”

Eddie’s breath hitched in his throat, “You’ve had uh...ana-puh-nax-sis before?”

You giggled slightly which made the corners of Eddie’s mouth turn upward.

“When I was really young Dustin and I had a babysitter that ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before coming over and that was enough to send me to the hospital. I was in a coma for two days. Dustin witnessed everything and he’s been researching allergies ever since.”

“Wow. You don’t even have to eat it to get a reaction?”

“Nope.”

“Did Harrington help out last time too?” Eddie spat the boy's name like it was venom on his tongue.

“Nah, we didn’t really know Steve back then. Although I wasn’t surprised to see him with Dustin here. They’re kind of a package deal these days.”

“I mean, I knew him and Dustin were friends but I didn’t know you guys were…uh…”

“Eddie Munson…are you jealous?” you teased.

Deny. Deny. Deny. Eddie thought.

“Yes.”

The realization made your face slowly melt into shock. “Oh.”

You were used to the flirtatious teasing in your friendship but Eddie seemed more serious than he’s ever been. Your eyes scanned Eddie’s face, searching for any sign of sarcasm, but you came up empty.

“He’s not really my type, you know.”

Eddie's eyes widened in surprise. "He's not?"

"No," you said, shaking your head. "Steve is a great guy and a good friend, but he's like the older brother I never knew I needed. Besides he’s not a metalhead, he hates Dungeons and Dragons, he doesn’t know how to play guitar, his hair is great but definitely too crunchy with the amount of hairspray-”

Before you could say anything else, Eddie leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. It was sudden, unexpected, and completely wonderful. Your eyes widened in surprise, but you quickly closed them, losing yourself in the moment.

When you both finally pulled away, Eddie was beaming, his eyes sparkling with a mix of joy and disbelief.

You duck your head slightly and giggle, “sorry, I haven’t brushed my teeth in a while.”

Eddie shakes his head and smiles fondly at you, “sweetheart, I’ve been waiting too long for this to let that stop me.” He grabs the sides of your head to give you another kiss, leaning back with a dramatic shmack as you parted. “I even gave up eating tree nuts all together in case this day ever came.”

He leaned in again only for you to pull away, “What?” you asked in disbelief.

“What? Is that weird? Oh god, I’m so sorry-”

Before Eddie could panic any further, you hooked your fingers into his pick necklace and pulled him towards you. This time you were the one to cut him off with a kiss that soon morphed into a teasing smile.

When you parted Eddie’s eyes were wide and his mouth slightly agape as you said, “God Eddie, you’re so in love with me.”

the end.

tags: @beeblisss @fishwithtitz @leah-loves-lilies @wickedscorpio22 @chaoticgood-munson

#stranger things #fanfiction #friends to lovers #mutal pining #netflix #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #steve harrington #dustin henderson #hurt/comfort #hurt reader #peanut allergy #fanfic #fluff #angst #angst with a happy ending #hellfire club

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pandafruit · 4 months

Text

Ok, I’ve been tossing this AU around in my head for AGES, and I have to get it out or I’m gonna explode.

So in TEC, it’s made pretty clear that there are numerous risks to reviving Butler that even the fairies can’t fully account for. No healing like his had ever been attempted before, and there was really no telling what was gonna happen.

What if, in the face of all this, Holly refuses to heal him?

She’s not a trained medical warlock. She’s on her own. And she’s being asked to desecrate the body of her friend, with unknown, possibly catastrophic results. She refuses, tries her best to console Artemis and goes home.

Now, a lot changes from here.

Artemis obviously isn’t giving up hope. He transfers Butler to longer term cryogenic storage and has human surgeons fix his wounds as best they can in the meantime.

Artemis and Holly’s friendship is shattered. Artemis could never forgive her for not even trying to heal Butler. Holly doesn’t hate him in turn, but she does (mostly) believe she did the right thing, and wishes he would see her point of view. The LEP might still occasionally contact Artemis for help (though not for long - I’ll get to it) but the two of them remain, at absolute best, frosty around each other from then on.

Spiro and Blunt are no longer getting the “off to prison” treatment lmao. Artemis contacts Carla Frazetti and convinces the Chicago mob to turn on Spiro and assassinate both him and Blunt. Afterward, Artemis ends up taking Spiro’s place as benefactor and strategist for the mob. In return, Carla provides him with a security detail when needed (which is how I’m getting around Artemis not dying without Butler every 5 minutes lmao). The relationship proves very beneficial to Carla, and absolutely horrible for Artemis’s moral compass.

Artemis becomes obsessed with learning how to use magic - if the fairies won’t heal Butler, he’ll do it himself. This strains his working relationship with the LEP to the breaking point, and he eventually becomes a fairy fugitive. (I’ll be honest, this one is just bc I think Warlock!Artemis is cool as hell. They should’ve let him keep the magic >:(((( ) (Also cue tragic-yet-awesome scene where Holly is trying to bring him in and they get into a magic fight. The drama. The cinema).

Speaking of his magic! Artemis is no longer actively monitoring Foaly’s work, and the calculation error for the demons goes unnoticed until far too late. Thousands die in Hybras’s return to Earth, and the fairies come dangerously close to being revealed altogether.

When Artemis’s Atlantis Complex hits, because of his decidedly more amoral life path and extra dabbling in magic, it’s a hundred times worse. He has full blown hallucinations, panic attacks, multiple alters, and can no longer access fairy help for any of it. He stumbles by with human OCD treatments, but it’s not nearly as effective. He still refuses to see a psychiatrist.

Eventually, years down the line, Artemis masters magic well enough to revive Butler. It’s both better and worse than it would’ve been had Holly healed him - he no longer has to deal with the Kevlar strands thanks to the human medical intervention, and Artemis was able to train for years specifically to heal him, but the extra time in stasis means it takes even more of Butler’s life force to revive him.

When Butler finally awakes, he no longer recognizes the cold, paranoid, angry young man he used to dutifully protect. Butler may have been the one who was revived, but it’s Artemis who came back wrong.

There’s a million different ways this AU could go, but this is the stuff I’ve been tossing around. Also I know for a fact I haven’t hit every plot hole - PLEASE please share what you guys think would happen with me!! As of rn, I have no name for this AU, so I would appreciate suggestions for that too lmao

#artemis fowl #fowldom #one thing I like about this AU is there's a lot of room for interpretation #p much anything could happen after Holly leaves #if you guys want to take this idea and run w it please do! go nuts!!#and please do help me w a name bc I am terrible at those lmao

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beauty-and-passion · 8 months

Text

Lore Olympus: a golden mine of bad writing

As I said, one post wasn’t enough.

There is still a lot to say about this webcomic and in this post I would like to talk about how Zeus, Apollo and Kronos have been treated. Here I will focus on the first two acts only, because the third act is not over, as well as the story. And yes, that means I will write another post when this whole thing is over.

I wanted to focus on these three gods in particular because are treated in a way that baffles me and makes me question what did they ever do to Mrs. Smythe. Tell me, Rachel: was it something personal? Did they do something to your family? What happened?

But maybe you don’t understand my point, especially if you haven’t read the Greek myths at all and you think that these three are just “Unfaithful Guy”, “Rapist” and “Evil Villain Har Har Who Also Wants To Rape”. Seriously, what’s with this weird obsession with raping everyone and with sex? Did Mrs. Smythe ever see anything else in myths, besides sex?

So please, allow me to explain why their characterizations are wrong and boring - and no, not just from a mythological point of view.

_______________________________

Zeus: the walking clichè

Making Zeus an asshole is understandable, even if utterly boring and clichè. Oh wow, he's an unfaithful husband and he's vain. Very original. Groundbreaking, I'd say. I’ve never read about him being unfaithful to his wife, not even once in all the 200 million retellings made during the history of mankind.

It's a shame because Zeus is much more than that. He's a mighty ruler with a strong sense of justice: in several myths, he punished the assholes for their wrongdoings. He's very clever and strong. He's also associated with xenia, the custom of offering protection to strangers, which means Zeus is also a protector of foreigners.

I mean, this information alone offers so many new perspectives about him! Just imagine if, instead of hanging around and doing nothing useful aside from being everyone’s favorite punching bag, Zeus fought against every corrupt system of the mortal realm, in order to protect the foreigners and the innocents. It would’ve been so cool to see a different side of him, instead of the same thing over and over again!

But nope, Zeus = unfaithful husband only. Let’s ignore all the other aspects of him, to focus on the one everyone focuses on. Let’s make him the umpteenth version of the same guy, instead of offering a new vision. This will surely make the story worth everyone’s time!

Rachel, this could’ve worked if I was 12 and had never read a retelling in my entire life. But since I’m more than twice that age, seeing Zeus as an unfaithful husband again doesn’t get my interest. And I’m sure this doesn’t only apply to me, but to everyone who already saw at least two retellings of him. Isn’t this story supposed to be new and original? Then why are we still picking from the same old clichè visions of these gods? Where is the writer’s personality and ability?

_______________________________

Apollo: king of wasted potentials

I am absolutely, completely, 100% baffled at how Apollo has been treated in this story.

It's insulting to see the most beloved Greek god treated as a bidimensional piece of shit. Not only because he doesn't make any sense in the story (why is he here in the first place? Did Persephone and Apollo even interact in any myth?), but also because there are so many different possibilities for him, that seeing him being this is the biggest waste of potential I’ve ever seen.

A brief recap of who Apollo really is: Apollo is the embodiment of the sun. He is the god of arts and crafts. He's the most beautiful god, he embodies the concept of perfect Greek beauty. And he is associated with a lot of cool stuff, like medicine, truth and oracles. Also, like most of the other Greek gods, Apollo had many male and female lovers.

Now, look me in the eye and tell me that, with all of this, your first idea about him is "yeah, let's make him a stupid rapist, so stupid to not realize that hey, maybe forcing a girl to sleep with you will not make her fall in love with you". Oh and let's not forget he randomly decided he wanted Zeus' throne just after the fertility plot point had been introduced Because Yes. And he’s running for president of Whatever-Land Because Yes. Also, he’s currently involved again in another evil plot Because… yeah, you got it.

It’s just so frustrating to see him being the biggest loser of all time, considering how much cooler he could’ve been. Just think about it: we could've had a bisexual musician, who does concerts with his band (the Muses) and has a shit ton of lovers. We could’ve had a heartbroken doctor, who does his best to save everyone because he has not been able to save his own son from death (Asclepius). We could've had a mysterious advisor who can see the future because of his foresight powers.

What did we get instead? A fucking rapist.

Apollo is nothing but wasted potential. He’s an insult to himself, the story, common sense, and the Greek culture. Of all the incredible things he could've been, he became the most insulting of them all. I really cannot bear to see this fucking idiot and his punching-bag face, pretending to be Apollo. He’s not Apollo.

But if there is a guy I can see less than him, then let me introduce you to…

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Kronos: Supreme Master of Wasted Potential

First of all: why is Kronos here? Why does this love story need Persephone to defeat a big bad guy? Just to show how cool and badass she is? Considering that their fight was a joke, it didn't work very well.

But okay, let's say we need a villain Because Yes. Kronos is still a huge waste of potential, probably the biggest waste of potential of the whole series until now. He could’ve been an interesting, multifaceted character, but he became a cartoonish supervillain har-har I want power.

Sigh.

But let’s take a step back and talk about the real, mythological Kronos. His story starts with his parents, Uranus and Gaia. The two had a lot of sons, including Titans (like Kronos) and Hecatonchires (monsters with fifty heads and one hundred arms). Disgusted by their monstrous nature or maybe just out of fear of being overthrown, Uranus chained his sons away into Gaia's womb (aka the Tartarus) so that they could never come out again.

Gaia suffered from this decision, so she devised a plan: she made a stone sickle, gathered her sons and tried to persuade them to castrate Uranus.

All of her sons were afraid of Uranus, Kronos was the only one brave enough to do it. And he was successful: he overthrew his father and became the new ruler of the universe, along with his wife/sister Rhea.

However, after becoming king, he didn't free all of his brothers as his mother wanted, but locked Hecatonchires and Cyclopes away once again. And so, Gaia told him that, one day, he would meet his father’s same fate and be overthrown by one of his own children.

Scared by these words, Kronos devised a plan: every time he had a new child, he took the baby from Rhea and swallowed them. Rhea was desperate and, in order to save her last son Zeus, she sought Gaia's help.

So Rhea gave birth to Zeus in a secret place, then handed Kronos a stone wrapped in clothes: he swallowed it, thinking that it was his son. This way, Zeus managed to escape the same fate as his siblings and was raised in secret, away from his father, until he was old enough to come back and fulfill his destiny.

And now, you may think Zeus overthrew his father with a sword and killed him and nah nah nah, myths are not that stupid and predictable. Zeus didn’t use violence to overthrow his father, but intelligence. He disguised himself to reach Kronos' court and, at the right time, he gave him a drink. That drink was an emetic (given by Gaia), that forced Kronos to throw up everything he swallowed, in reverse order: first the stone he thought was his last son, then Zeus' brothers and sisters.

After freeing his siblings, Zeus did what his father would've never done: he released the Hecatoncheires and the Cyclops to help him in the following battle against Kronos and the other Titans, a battle known as Titanomachy.

The war ended with the victory of the Olympians (i.e. Zeus and his siblings). Many Titans were confined in Tartarus, under the Hecatonchires' control, others were not imprisoned and kept appearing in other myths.

And Kronos? His fate differs depending on the myths. In some versions, he was imprisoned in Tartarus. But according to other, more interesting versions, Zeus forgave him after years, freed him and Kronos became king of the Elysian Fields: the famous earthly paradise reserved for the greatest Greek heroes.

Now. Just look at all of this beautiful, beautiful potential.

We have Gaia, a powerful goddess who overthrew two rulers of the universe, without moving a finger. A goddess strong and clever, but also a mother who wanted all of her children to be free - even the most hideous ones. She could’ve been a tragic figure, a master manipulator, or an evil schemer. Or all these things!

We have the Hecatonchires: fighters so powerful, to turn the tide of any battle. They could’ve been scary and intimidating, but also tragic monsters who just wanted to be accepted. They could’ve taught a beautiful lesson about the importance of accepting the ugly and giving everyone a chance to prove themselves.

Then we have Kronos. And Kronos had everything to be the greatest character.

Think about this concept: Kronos has always been afraid of Uranus, just like his brothers. He was just better at hiding his feelings. And that visceral fear is still inside him, it still haunts him after centuries, just like the memory of how he overthrew his father. And that fear takes the shape of paranoid thoughts about his father coming back to take the throne.

Kronos could’ve seen his father haunting him, but he could’ve also dissociated and seen himself as his father. In his altered state of mind, he could’ve been both the king and the one who overthrows him.

That could’ve made him a truly dangerous, unhinged character. A god who can’t see what’s real anymore, obsessed with the ghosts of his past. A god with nothing to lose and everything to gain. After all, if he kills his children again, the throne would be his once more. And, since he sees himself as himself and as his father at the same time, he would think that he is the "true king" coming back to take his throne.

That could’ve been awesome. Kronos could've been complex, desperate and multifaceted, a villain to pity and to be afraid of. A truly new, interesting version to know and love.

And do you have any idea how incredible Zeus could’ve been in this version? We could see him facing Kronos again, still as strong and determined as when he was young. And while everyone would expect him to kill Kronos, he would use his intelligence once again. He would prove to Kronos (and to everyone else) how intelligence is always superior to violence and how he's a good leader, despite his thousands of flaws.

Also, we could've seen Zeus talking to the defeated Kronos and making him the ruler of the Elysian Fields. We could've had a meaningful ending, in which Zeus understands Kronos' fears and shares his own.

I would’ve adored this, because according to the myth, Zeus was also supposed to be overthrown by a son! Hence why he swallowed Metis (his first wife) while she was pregnant.

The myth never truly clarifies who this supposed "son" is, but according to the different versions, Metis was pregnant not with a son, but with a daughter. A daughter who, one day, would be born, full grown, from Zeus' head. A daughter who would become Zeus' favorite child: Athena.

Honestly? I ADORE the idea that there was never a son to overthrow Zeus, but a daughter. And she would not overthrow his father by violence like her grandfather or by intelligence like her father, but by love. Athena doesn't need to take the throne from her father physically, she doesn't even need to sit on that throne: not when her father loves her more than anything else.

And I love the idea that Zeus is aware of that. He knows his daughter is his weakness. He knows that, if she asks, he will willingly give her that throne, because he loves her too much. And I would've loved to see him sharing these thoughts with the defeated Kronos. It could've been a beautiful moment, to see Zeus talking with the fatherly figure he always missed from his life. It could've led to a beautiful, meaningful ending for a dramatic story.

But can you see the problem here? This concept works for a story about Zeus, not about Hades and Persephone! These two have nothing to do with Kronos! Heck, even Rachel Smythe knows it, considering she had to pull a stupid plot point out of thin air, to explain why Kronos would give a damn about Persephone!

In case you were wondering: yes, the fertility-magical-power-battery-thing is bullshit. Gods don’t need a magical battery to be powerful. And no, fertility goddesses are not rare either: Aphrodite, Demeter, Hera, even Artemis are just a few of the fertility goddesses in Greek mythology. Kronos could’ve picked his favorite from a large pool, instead of becoming an absolute creep with Persephone in the stupidest fight of all time.

And speaking of that, two words on the supposed “fight”. First of all, apologies to all fights for being associated with this thing, because this was anything but a fight: it was a cartoonish conversation accompanied by the umpteenth sexualization of Persephone, who first appeared fully naked, then with a dress so stupid to defy the laws of physics and perspective.

And if you don’t believe me, please see it by yourself: this is how the dress was supposed to be, according to episode 75

This is how it ended up. Apparently, the Fates didn’t predict how huge Persephone’s boobs would be and the neckline didn’t grow accordingly: I feared to see one of them slipping out from it anytime during the “fight”

Also, please appreciate how Persephone is turned to the side, but the dress’ stupidly huge neckline is shown from the front, otherwise we would’ve seen her full naked boobs.

And that stupid neckline kept bothering me throughout the whole “fight”, because it kept changing size. Check the episodes and see it by yourself: sometimes it’s smaller, other times it’s wider and it keeps moving in impossible ways. It drove me insane.

But since we’re talking about drawings, please allow me a very brief parenthesis about them too.

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The drawings are a joke

I am not an artist. I can barely draw a straight line by hand. But I studied art history, perspective, proportions and colors, so I’m not completely clueless.

But you don’t need to be clueless, to notice how bad the drawings became. If you have two eyes and saw another human being in your life before, then you can notice by yourself how bad they are.

It’s not a secret that Lore Olympus’ art style changed over time. In the beginning, this comic was characterized by a lot of straight lines and geometric shapes, alternating and mixing with gentle curves. There were blur effects, colored outlines, a lot of details that gave an overall dreamy, ethereal vibe to every chapter (like the soft glow that accompanied the gods).

But as the story progressed, these elements disappeared. The geometric shapes gave way to an overall “softness” and roundness. The dreamy vibes and blur effects were replaced by sharper, clearer drawings. A distinct black outline now marks every character.

And speaking of characters, they were the ones who changed more. Lore Olympus always had funny, silly faces but the characters were also able to be serious and look natural. Now all we have are grotesque faces: the characters are a collection of caricatures and no one has a normal expression anymore. Check by yourself, by confronting a random episode of the third act with the first one: they’re two different worlds.

The disproportions were common too, since episode one. But at least they were somehow plausible, while now they’re completely absurd. It’s as if Mrs Smythe completely forgot what a human being looks like.

And this is pretty evident in how all characters became a rough draft of the two protagonists: all women got Persephone’s face, all men become buff and huge, with wide-ass shoulders and teeny tiny heads. This is particularly obvious at the end of season 2 / start of season 3, when we see some of the funniest images ever, like Hades with a tiny head and shoulders as wide as the entire USA

Or this hilariously bad image of Zeus with clown shoes and a head as big as his deformed hand.

No excuse can justify these drawings: no one is running after Mrs Smythe, nor forcing her to draw, and people are paying her real money to work on this webcomic. The least she can do is draw something that doesn’t look like a bad distortion of a human being.

Unless this isn’t her drawing, but her staff’s work. In that case, they are still paid to do their job, right? Or do they think this story is a joke and decide to show how much of a joke it is, by turning everyone into a grotesque caricature?

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In conclusion

Lore Olympus is hilarious because of how bad the writing is. It’s a manual example of how not to write a climax for your story. It’s a perfect demonstration of how you can still fail, even with great characters with endless possibilities. It’s a list of all the mistakes you can make as an artist.

If you’re a writer or an artist in general, please check Lore Olympus and study it. Here you will find everything you should never do and all the mistakes you should never make.

As a writer myself, I appreciate Lore Olympus, because I need works that teach me what I shouldn’t do. Good teachers are useful, but bad ones are even more useful, because it’s thanks to them that I can learn and grow and make better stories. Lore Olympus might be a failure from an artistic and writing point of view, but it might also serve as a foundation, from which other people can develop better ideas.

Actually, it already did it! Do you want to read a better story, rose from the disappointing ashes of Lore Olympus? Then check Lore Rekindled and @genericpuff: you will find their work here on Tumblr. They planned everything ahead and it’s pretty clear by reading it. The characters make more sense, the events have a more logical explanation. And the art style is much, much better than the last Lore Olympus.

We will meet again for the third and (for now) final post about this series, a much-needed post about the protagonists of this story: Hades, Persephone and Demeter.

<- Previous post - Next post ->

(How about a coffee? ☕)

_______________________________

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#lore olympus #lore olympus criticism #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo criticism #lo critical #anti lo #greek gods #greek myth #zeus #apollo #kronos #lo zeus #lo apollo #lo kronos

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doyouevenshipbr0 · 1 month

Text

gruvia drabble

author’s note: HI!!! ok so im here. im risen. im inspired. here’s something FUNNYYYY about the inspo for this… so its based off of a theory from an anti gr*via post LMAOOO this feels soooo bitchy but i swear to GOD it is not a call out it is just genuinely something that gave me inspiration. so basically an anti said that gray doesnt actually have feelings for juvia and he is just saying that he does because he feels indebted to her for saving his life. sorta kinda something like that. im not gonna go back and look bc tbh i may have blocked the account? JFJDKDJDJ idk. anyways. here’s this. you’ll see where my heads at in a sec bc ur probably like “ok so how tf is that gonna be a gruvia fic” just WAIT ok my gears are turning. this one is a lot longer (and possiblyyyyyy OOC but in my defense!!!!!!!!! picture how gray would act if he were in an established relationship with juvia. like boyfriend girlfriend. for six months.) than it should have been BUT lets call it even for my million year hiatus. ENJOY BABIES!

Although Juvia had hardly gotten any sleep this past night, rolling around in her sheets all night with excitement, she certainly walked with a spring in her step when she eagerly made her way to the local convenience store.

She would’ve been lying if she said she hadn’t thought about setting up camp outside the little shop that night so that way she could hold those glorious, glossy, pieces of paper bound together by glue as soon as physically possible. Fortunately, she was reasoned with when Gray quickly pointed out the ridiculousness of the notion after she had brought it up to him as a genuine idea.

Making sure to get up bright and early the day of the big release would do. As long as she would be the first person in the store with the very first copy of that week’s edition of Sorcerer Magazine in her hands, she would be content.

Naturally, Gray initially rejected the idea. It was so completely and irrevocably unlike him. An interview about himself, just him, was a tall order, but an interview with him and Juvia, as a couple? There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell. For Gray, opening up to the people closest to him was hard enough. Even finally getting the nerve to ask Juvia on a date was something that took a great deal of time and effort. Things so personal like this were hard for him.

All these years in Fairy Tail, and he’s hardly spoken more than a few sentences to Sorcerer Magazine, let alone sitting down for a tell-all interview.

Unfortunately for him, his enthusiastic water mage was over the moon when Sorcerer Magazine reached out to them for an interview.

Public displays of affection were never Gray’s strong suit, and after finally realizing his feelings for Juvia, he still isn’t a fan. As much as he would deny it, he had become quite a softy with Juvia behind closed doors, but as soon as those doors open, he retreats back to his shell-like and cool exterior.

Even after a good six months of dating, Juvia really didn’t mind. It’s not like he acted like he didn’t know her. They went on dates, they were finally an official item, and he would even do subtle things like resting his hand lightly on her leg under the table at the guild hall or give a “Love you, see you later” loud enough for Happy to hear even knowing he’ll snicker and tease Gray about it for the next few minutes.

All in all, they were both content with the amount of their relationship they let others see.

So something like an interview with a very popular magazine would certainly throw a wrench in all of that for Gray.

But Juvia begged, and begged, and begged, and finally, once they came to an agreement about the types of questions they would answer and the depth of their answers, Gray agreed to the interview. After all, it would make her happy, and he was comfortable enough with himself and his self esteem at this point to be able to do this for her.

Juvia was elated with how the interview went. Of course, she had done most of the talking, but she was happy to do so. She tried her best to hold back on doting too much as to save Gray some embarrassment, and she thought she mostly succeeded. Even when questions got a little personal, like asking about how Juvia got the scar on her side (of course, with her new stripping habit when in battle, her scar is easily visible for large enough periods of time), she answered as succinctly and lightly as possible while still giving an honest answer.

So to say the headline that Juvia saw that morning plastered on the front of that cold and stiff magazine was horrifying was an understatement.

“Gray and Juvia: Girlfriend or Guilt Trip?”

Juvia wasn’t sure how many times the clerk at the store had asked “Miss? Are you alright?” before her consciousness finally came back into this orbit. She blinked for the first time in what may have been minutes, and looked up at the clerk. Without giving a reply, she looked back down at the magazine, and saw the picture they used, which was Juvia clinging to Gray, wrapped around his arm.

Gray’s face in the picture became warped by a water droplet hitting the cover, and then another droplet, and then another. It wasn’t until she looked back up at the clerk who looked even more concerned than before that she realized those water droplets came from her eyes.

“Sorry.” She quietly said as she handed the magazine to the cashier so he could scan it, handed him a bill of some value that she wasn’t entirely sure of, took the magazine back into her trembling hand, and left the store without getting her change.

Juvia got back to her apartment even quicker than she got to the store that morning. Every part of her mind told her not to do it, not to read the magazine, but then why did she buy it? Her brain screamed at her to put it down, not to go to the page of that article, but then why did her fingers frantically flip to page 14, just as instructed on the cover?

Each word was not only a dagger to Juvia’s very soul, but also a twisted reasoning and explanation, that Juvia fully believed by the end of her read. She couldn’t quite make the words into sentences or the sentences into paragraphs but as she buried herself in her covers, some phrases repeatedly burned into her mind and punched her in the gut such as “clingy”, “desperate”, and “leech”.

The worst part of it all weren’t the attacks at Juvia, but it was what this all meant for Gray. He was trapped.

He was her prisoner.

A prisoner that was bound to her out of a crippling feeling of guilt and sense of responsibility.

She may have been in her bed writhing in agony and mortification over these words for hours until a bang on her apartment door jolted her back to reality.

“Juvia? You in there?” Said that voice she knew all too well. How could someone’s voice be both such a comfort and a misery? She needed to hear him more than anyone at this moment and yet, she couldn’t bear to hold him hostage for another second.

She hoped if she said nothing, he would go away. But this was not the case.

The door slowly opened. “Juvia? Are you here? I’m coming in.” She winced as his voice got closer, now coming from her living room.

Her apartment wasn’t very big, so he found her in her bedroom in the next few moments. All Gray could see was a lump that was seemingly her body, crunched up into a balled up position, bound under her covers. Not even her face was out.

He stood in her doorway, not wanting to fully intrude “So you are here. Good.” He said calmly. “I was kinda’ worried when you didn’t meet me at the cafe this morning like you said you would.” Juvia then remembered they had plans to get breakfast together, bright and early, so she could gush about their big debut as a couple. Those plans changed

“Oh.” She said softly. “Juvia is sorry Gray-sama.” She tried to speak as clearly as she could knowing her voice was muffled underneath her blanket. “Juvia didn’t feel well this morning.” She lied.

“Oh.” Gray replied. He took a step into the room. “You sick?” He stretched his neck over her a bit to see if he could get any sort of glimpse at her face, but to no avail.

“Yes.” Juvia sniffled, using her congestion from her tears as fuel for her lies. “Juvia thinks it’s just allergies.”

Gray raised an eyebrow. Something was off. “Allergies? Since when do you have allergies?”

Juvia remembered in this moment that lying was not one of her strong suits. She was far too unapologetically herself to ever lie about anything, and she was just plain bad at it. To say she doesn’t have a good poker face would be putting it lightly.

“Well— Um—!” The pitch in her voice jumped with nervousness. “This spring has been a really brutal one! Pollen has been all over the place, and it’s driving Juvia crazy!” She finished with a fake sneeze, sealing her fate.

“It’s November.” Gray said, dryly.

Juvia’s face lit up a red so bright, she was sure she was glowing from underneath her covers.

After a few more moments of no response as Juvia tried to think of her next plot, Gray spoke again. “And I know you wanted to see me at the crack ass of dawn so you could show me the newest Sorcerer Magazine edition.” Gray sat down at the edge of her bed. “Even if you were in an accident that tore off all your limbs, you would’ve been at that cafe, magazine in hand, ready to explode from excitement. There’s no way some sniffles would stop you.”

There was another pause. Juvia meekly responded. “Well. Since Juvia’s body is made of water, it’s actually impossible for me to have all my limbs torn off.”

Gray barely let her finish the sentence. “Juvia!” He snapped back, fed up with the antics.

“And what does it really matter?!” Juvia erupted from her covers, finally revealing her swollen eyes, puffy and blotchy face, and ratted hair to Gray, whose eyes softened with concern. “It’s not like Gray-sama wants to have to wake up at 7:00 AM to meet Juvia for breakfast anyway! Just for Juvia to show you a magazine that I made you be apart of against your will.” Her eyes were welling with tears.

Gray was taken aback. His eyes widened with surprise and confusion. “Well-“

“Don’t deny it.” She cut him off. “We both know it’s true.” Tears dripped down her hot cheeks. “Just like it’s true how Juvia clings to you, and suffocates you, and even forced you into a relationship.”

“Whoa!” Gray sat up straight, and turned himself more to position himself facing her on the bed.

“And I always thought Gray-Sama just finally let Juvia in.” She interrupted him again, and gripped the sheets of her bed within her fists. “But it’s got nothing to do with that.” She looked down and gritted her teeth.

“Gray-sama feels indebted to Juvia since Juvia saved his life.” She clenched her eyes shut, and felt tears melt from her eyes in pools.

Her tense body jolted and almost instantly released tension as she felt Gray’s sturdy hands grab onto the sides of her arms, clutching her.

Juvia opened her eyes and looked up to find him just an arm’s distance’s length from her, staring at her with so much intent it almost looked like anger.

“What the hell are you talking about?” His voice is low and gravelly. Juvia was glad her eyes would cloud with more tears so she didn’t have to see his dark eyes piercing into her. She looked away.

“The magazine.” She pulled one of her arms from Gray’s grasp and pulled the magazine in question out from under the covers where it rotted away with her minutes ago.

Shamefully, she held Sorcerer Magazine out to Gray who promptly took it from her hands. She was brave enough to watch his face as he first locked eyes with the cover, but wasn’t brave enough for anything else. She saw his scowl quickly scan the bold words and looked back down as she squeezed her eyes shut.

This was it. The end. He would see those red capital letters shouting at him, telling him “Run!”, and he would heed the advice. Of course he would. The magazine was right, after all. He would turn to page 14 just as eagerly as Juvia did and read, in gruesome detail, the truth of their relationship. At least after all of this, he would finally be free from her venomous clutches. He would be absolved of all guilt, now that the article plainly told him the truth of their situation. He would no longer have to pretend-

CRRSHH.

Juvia’s cruel daze was broken by the sounds of Gray tearing the magazine in half.

And then another half, and then one more half for good measure.

“Gray-Sama!” Juvia exclaimed, shocked.

“What a load of shit.” Gray said plainly, but with distinct irritation in his voice.

“But! You didn’t even read the article! It explained how-“

“I don’t give a fuck.” He interrupted and finally made eye contact with her once again once the magazine was finally in enough pieces to do no more harm.

“Well, you should.” Juvia looked down at the shards of Sorcerer Magazine.

“And why is that?”

“Because it all made sense. From start to end. Our relationship. I clung and clung and clung to you, and when I saved your life, you had no choice but to break for me. You felt like you owed me something. And that debt was big enough to do something as crazy as convince yourself that you love me.” Although Juvia explained the situation plainly and logically, her own words were like poison in her mouth, as tears had no choice but to fill her eyes again. She looked up at Gray who was at a loss for words.

This was good. There was nothing left to say. She smiled softly at the thought of their departure, and thus, Gray’s freedom. She knew she needed to swallow her tears, so she did.

“It’s ok.” She shook her head with her smile still curled through her lips. “You don’t have to force yourself to do this anymore. The debt is repaid. These last six months Juvia has spent with you have been filled with enough love to keep me content for a lifetime. We can go back to being friends, and we can both be happy.” Juvia paused and watched Gray’s brow furrow.

“Thank you for everything, Gray-sama. Loving you this closely for this long has been everything Juvia has ever wanted.” She closed her eyes, and a single tear crept through. She smiled thinking about how even though they won’t be together, she will love him for the rest of her life, and that was more than she ever deserved.

“That’s enough.” Was all Gray said as he used one hand to pull her head directly towards him onto his shoulder, and he wrapped the other around the middle of her back. They were positioned awkwardly because of how they were sat on the bed, but Gray didn’t care or even notice.

“Have you officially lost your mind?” Was his next question, and his tone was still low, but a bit softer.

“Eh?” Juvia was at a loss for words. How did she en up in his arms?

“I knew this stupid interview was a bad idea.” He grumbled, talking to himself, but obviously for Juvia to hear. “It’s a magazine. Of course they would twist our words into whatever made for a juicier story.”

“But-“

“Juvia,” Gray cut her off and sighed. He grabbed her by her shoulders, putting her back at arm’s length, and looked directly at her. “Here’s the truth.” He said certainly. Juvia’s eyebrows clenched with confusion.

“I’m not with you because I feel like I owe you anything. I’m with you because you’re clingy, you’re relentless, and you’re obnoxious about what you want, which is me.” Gray was serious. Juvia looked down in embarrassment.

Gray gently swept her bangs out of her face, and his hand traveled to her cheek where he cupped her face. She had no choice but to look back at him.

“And I wouldn’t want it any other way.” He finally smiled, and Juvia’s heart oozed.

“What?” She whispered.

“You’re the most passionate, determined, loyal, genuine, kind person I’ve ever met in my entire life. You were the person who showed me that not only did I deserve love, but I was capable of loving. After all the people I lost, I had walls on top of walls on top of walls. And one by one, you broke each barrier down with a smile in your face.” He used a thumb to swipe away a tear, and Juvia let out a chuckle.

“Never in my life did I think I would think about stuff like romance or love. I was too scared. Now I think about having an actual future with somebody. And I know for sure that somebody is you.” Gray was saying things that Juvia only heard in her wildest dreams.

“Really?” Juvia grabbed onto the hand that held her face.

Gray nodded. “The way you’ve loved me has showed me how to love, Juvia. It took me awhile to get that, but I got it.”

He paused. He looked at the shred of magazing beneath him. “Not only is the person who wrote this article too stupid to know that I would never do something I don’t want to do or be with someone I don’t want to be with, but they’re also too stupid to know that you are the best thing in my life. A ‘guilt trip’ couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Juvia smiled, and instinctively her hand reached down for her scar, remembering how her sacrifice to save Gray’s life was what brought forth that term. Guilt trip. Gray took note of her hand placement, and knew she was thinking about this.

“Yes, you saved my life, and that may have been the moment that changed everything for me— for us, but not because I felt like I owed you, but because seeing how close I came to losing you made me realize that life is short. And up until then, I had spent all that time pushing everything off when I should’ve been letting you in. That moment made me finally realize that.” He looked at her deeply. “And I know I love you.”

“I love you too, Gray-sama.” Juvia finally allowed herself to melt in his arms, and he wrapped her up in his warm embrace.

“Y’knowww~” Juvia almost sang. “Saying you see a future with Juvia is practically the same thing as a proposal.” She snuggled closer into him.

“Alright, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Gray reflexively replied.

Juvia giggled and nuzzled even further into Gray’s chest. “Thank you, Gray-sama.”

Gray and Juvia held each other for a little while longer as the discards of Sorcerer Magazine crumpled and bunched up within the covers where they sat, but they didn’t care.

They let the words be buried beneath them.

#gruvia #doyouevenshipbr0 #gruvia drabble #fairy tail fanfic #fairy tail #fairy tail 100 yq #fairy tail 100 years quest #personal #gruvia fanfiction #ft 100 yq #gray x juvia #juvia x gray #juvia #juvia lockser #gruvia fanfic

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fastboatsmojito · 1 month

Text

I’m poison either way - 18+ ☾⋆｡✩

Chef Luca x Fem! Reader one-shot

|AN: long ass list of cws MY FAULT it gets intense, obviously inspired by ‘imgonnagetyouback’ by TS. Lost my mind one million times while writing this. Enjoy <33 also thinking about making this a series so we can see him being your boss if anyone wants that 🫶🏼

|WC: 5.9k

|CW: Smut BTC!!! Some Angst, Exes to Lovers but worse freakier, Friends with benefits relationship with Carm mentioned, Porn With a lot of Plot, Eventual nasty dirty filthy smut, Luca gets kinda mean, almost public? fingering, orgasm denial - just momentarily, oral (fem receiving), mentions of past relationships, a splash of drinking, names used -all for reader; slut, bunny, ‘my girl’, etc. some jealousy from Luca and a little accidental Carm Slander SORRY

You hadn’t seen him in over a year. It felt like longer. The memories of nights spent surrounded by each other’s warmth echoing in your head. You missed him, but you cared about him too much to tell him that.

Last time you saw him you were getting on a plane. You didn’t want to leave him but you didn’t have a choice.

You wanted to ask if he’d come with you. He would’ve. You never did, fear of abandonment and rejection covering your rational thinking in a thick, gray, fog.

You left him with a just out of reach promise of forever and five words.

“I love you, I’m sorry.”

—————-

You only left to go back to Chicago for family matters, knowing once you got back you’d get sucked into everything again and have to stay.

Once you got back you met Carm who provided you with a job and soon after, the closest friends you’d ever had.

Over the past few months the lines of your relationship started to blur.

You didn’t mean for it to happen, long nights in the restaurant ending with some stress-relieving back alley make outs, and eventually his office with one of his hands over your mouth while the other was drifting under your apron.

It was a little messy, sure, but It was also fun. Casual. You ignored the pangs of guilt you felt every time he called you ‘my girl’ even if he didn’t mean it.

You might’ve closed your eyes a few times and imagined it was Luca groaning and breathing your name instead, but who was counting.

And now you were going back to Denmark. Well, kind of. You weren’t going back for Luca, though when Syd first suggested it he was all you could think of.

You were going for work, to ‘better yourself and your work’ in the words of Carm.

More likely you were going because they already bought the ticket and Marcus wanted to stay with his mom.

It’s a big enough country, there’s no way you’ll bump into him. Right?

You were both so close. You almost had it- the kind of love people tell stories about. It was all yours, you were the happiest you’d ever been, and then it was gone. You held the weapon that stabbed right through your chest, severing the life of the only real love you ever had.

It didn’t matter anyway, you haven’t spoken since you left. Surely he’s moved on by now, God knows you were pretending you did. Even if he hadn’t, there’s a high chance he hated you. You knew it wasn’t like him to hold a grudge but he had every right to.

As you said goodbye to everyone Carm reassured you that he had no hold over you.

“Y’should have some fun, get out there. Dont hold back.” He muttered, patting your back like he always did as he hugged you.

“Thanks, Carm. See you in a few weeks.”

—————————

You texted Syd as soon as you stepped off the plane, leftover anxiety from the flight still in your stomach mixing with the newfound nostalgia of the city.

:In Denmark! Still just as beautiful as I remember it, maybe even more. Hope you’re having a good one, call me when you get off <3

You walked around the city you still knew like the back of your hand to grab some food before heading to your temporary home. Deciding to exasperate the nostalgia, you went to one of your old favorite brunch spots.

As soon as you walked in you were met with the sweet smells you dreamed about in Chicago. You ordered your old usual and sat down, memories of sitting here with Luca and your shared friends watering your eyes as someone called your name, pulling you out of it.

“Is that you?” A familiar voice called from behind you, turning around to find Mai, one of said shared friends waving at you.

She looked just as cute as she was before you left, coily red hair flowing just over her shoulders. Always adorned in the coolest jacket you’ve ever seen and a bright smile.

“I haven’t seen you in so long!” She exclaimed, walking up to hug you.

“Mai! I missed you.” Her hugs were always the sweetest, her bubbly personality floating off of her and engulfing everyone around her in a warm light.

“I missed you more! How are you? How’s Chicago?” You reluctantly pulled away, order numbers suddenly being called.

“Come sit with me, we can catch up.” You said, grinning as she walked with you to grab your orders before sitting down.

You told her everything. She always had a way of pulling things out of people, compassion and understanding leaking from her pores. You talked about your family, Luca, your new job, your ‘fun!’ thing with Carm, all of it.

“That’s.. intense!” She giggled, grabbing a sip of her coffee.

“In a good way?” You joked with a quirked eyebrow.

“As long as you’re happy.” She replied, grabbing one of your hands with both of her own.

You looked down at that, not sure if you were or weren’t. You had friends, a job you enjoyed, good sex without any attachment, you lived in your favorite city and were currently sitting in the second, but something was missing. Someone was missing.

“Speaking of being happy,” she added, grounding you back out of your head.

“there’s a party downtown tonight, everyone will be there. You should come with me!” You thought for a second, remembering what Carm had said earlier and what you promised yourself. ‘Don’t hold back.’

“Sounds great!”

——————

Mai was meeting you there and the party wasn’t for a few hours so you went to go check out where you’d be staying and get ready.

You double checked the location from Carm once got to the dock, obviously you were staying on a boat. Sick. Once you found the right one you were pleasantly surprised. It was cozy, which was perfect since it was just you.

You accidentally unpacked rather quickly, throwing clothes around as you searched for something to wear to the party. A few distraught moments later you found it.

Thank god you decided against the voice in your head telling you it was ridiculous to pack such a showy dress for a work trip. It was perfect, the little black dress of dreams, comfortable material that fit you just right.

You still had a while until you really had to get ready so you took a nice long shower and tried to organize a bit before starting on your makeup.

You looked incredible and you knew it. You were close to sending a few pictures to Carm but decided against it, instead sending them to Syd, excited to tell her all about your night later.

:attached; 3 photos. Going to a party with an old friend! Detes to come 💓

You grabbed your bag and necessities before texting Mai that you were on the way.

———————

You knew you were at the right place when you found yourself surrounded by a bunch of hot people smoking.

“Over here!” Mai’s soft voice cut through the crowd, waving you towards her and a few others. You grinned as you walked over, greeting her with a hug.

“You look gorgeous, Mai.” You caught up with the everyone else, two of your other old friends, all sharing new important details of your lives as you waited to go inside.

Once you were all in Mai went to grab some drinks as you continued chatting, laughing about something you can’t remember suddenly, hearing an eerily familiar voice from somewhere in the sea of people behind you.

Your stomach dropped, goosebumps forming on your warmed skin. You’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Hey! Sorry I’m late I spilled somethin’ on my shirt and had to change it real quick-“

He stopped in his tracks as soon as he saw you, smile slowly fading, standing in front of the three of you wordless.

Your mouth was dry, lump in the back of your throat forming right along with the water in your eyes just at the sight of him. He stared into you as you did him, quickly blinking to make sure he was real.

“Luca, you came!” Called Mai from behind you. Shots in hand as she walked up to all of you, her hand on your shoulder breaking you out of the trance of eye contact you were stuck in.

“Why’re you guys so quiet? Let’s have some-“ She looked at Luca and then back at you, realization of your earlier conversation just hitting her.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry guys. Is this too weird?” You were looking at the ground, closing your eyes for a second hoping the ground would open and swallow you up.

“No it’s- I mean as long as you’re okay with it,” He gestured towards you, giving you a shy smile when you looked up. “it’s not weird.”

He was being nice. Of course he was being nice. You knew he would, but a part of you wanted him to be mean. To tell you to fuck off and get your own friends, to tell you how shitty you were for leaving.

You nodded and spared the same smile, “All good.”

All good? Jesus, you could hardly believe you were still standing. The sight of him in that tight button-up enough to knock you out even without the skin dissolving pain of remembering what you had.

You shook it off, assuming he wanted to ignore it as much as you did. Mai handed each of you a shot, four glasses clinking together before being downed along with your anxiety.

Mai and the others went off to dance, leaving you and Luca to stand there, awkwardly smiling at each other.

“You look great, y’know.” He nodded to you, hands placed over each other, thumb stroking over the tattooed pepper on his other hand. A nervous habit of his you used to look for, always placing his hands in yours.

You looked up from his hands to give him a real smile this time, “You too.”

Shit.

——————-

The soft low lighting and the sounds of music and people talking over each other filled your senses, Mai dragged you away from the pit in your stomach like she always did to dance with her.

“You okay?” She whisper-yelled in front of you. Her hands were on your shoulders, moving you with her to the music.

“I’m okay.” You nodded, and she tilted her head at you, wordlessly urging you to continue.

“It’s just-“ you sighed before continuing, “I missed him, of course, and I want to talk to him but- this isn’t exactly the place for that. I don’t wanna ruin his night.”

She grabbed your hands and led you back to the table, where Luca was talking with one of your shared his other friends.

She whispered something in his ear, before taking his friend to dance leaving you two alone once again. His arms were crossed as he stood, looking around for something.

Was he leaving? If anything you should be the one leaving, he should be having fun.

“I can leave if you-“ He turned back to you and shook his head, moving to ask for your hand with his own.

“No just- come with me.” You instinctively took his hand as soon as it was out to you, reflexes of forgotten parties he led you to and from etched into your muscle memory.

His hand was warm and steady as always over your smaller, shaky one as he guided you out, leading you out into the quiet of an alley you’re sure you’ve seen before.

He didn’t let go of your hand, standing in front of you with an expression you couldn’t quite place.

“Mai told me you wanted to talk to me, and I thought that was a good idea. Been a while.” You nodded as he spoke, noticing his thumb start mindlessly stroking your thumb like he always did to calm you down.

“Yeah it’s- that’s my fault. I should’ve reached out, I’m sorry. I wanted to but-“

You paused, trying to keep your words coherent as the feeling of his hand still over yours was making the heart in your chest, still engraved with his name, beat faster.

“I didn’t think you wanted to talk to me.”

He squeezed your hand at that and gave you an apologetic smile. God. Why did he have to be so nice to you?

“I could’ve called too, y’know. It’s not all your fault, I just wanted you to be happy.”

He squeezed your hand again, three times.

Fuck.

Tears forming in your eyes once again, unable to be held back this time, your voice wavering.

“Luca, I really missed you. I’m so sorry.”

He said your name like he always did when you were crying, full of all the love he had.

He took your other hand in his and pulled you in, covering you in warmth and the comfortingly familiar smell of his cologne as you sobbed into him.

“I missed you too. It’s okay, baby.” He whispered into your hair like a promise. The name slipped out, you were sure he didn’t notice but you did. He was smoothing a hand over your hair as the other held you against him.

You stayed like that for a while, just leaning into him. Someone cleared their throat behind you and you reluctantly pulled away, hand still in his.

“You guys coming back in?” Mai was standing at the door, smiling softly as you wiped the tears away.

You looked at Luca, who looked at you before nodding, bringing you back in with him.

————

The light and sounds reentering your senses were gentle now, beckoning you to relax into them instead of suffocating you.

You were dancing with Mai again, really leaning into it and having fun now. You still missed him, just being in the same room was never enough, but you were okay now knowing he didn’t hate you.

He was being dragged by your other friends to dance with them behind you, eyes locked on the back of your head and the way you were moving your hips. Your eyes were closed as you moved, not registering Mai tell you she was getting a drink until you smelled his cologne right behind you.

“Hey.” He muttered close to your ear, hand hovering over your waist. Always a gentleman.

“Luca!” You turned and smiled at him, throwing your arms around his neck to dance with you.

“Havin’ fun?” He leaned down to ask, hands still hovering before you placed them on your waist.

“I am.” You beamed, “are you?”

He smiled down at you, squeezing your waist for just a second.

“I am-“ He paused, smile suddenly fading as you moved your heated hair off of your neck.

You gave Luca a confused look until you looked down where he was staring.

Shit.

You were giving him an accidental direct look at the mark you told Carm not to leave. He never listened. This wasn’t his fault though, this was all you.

Luca dropped his hands and walked away, gently moving past an oblivious Mai, who knew something was wrong as soon as she saw you.

“Shit.”

———————

You told Mai what happened, trying to stop yourself from following him out. You should’ve told him about Carm sooner but you didn’t think it was that important, you weren’t dating anyone.

“Alright, it’s okay. I’ll go talk to him.” She said, setting her drink down.

“No, wait- I think I need to go. It’s on me, let me handle it.”

She nodded and gave you a supportive smile as you walked back out.

It wasn’t as cold as Chicago but it was much cooler than inside. You looked around for a while, collecting annoyed glances from everyone you asked about seeing him.

You eventually found him back in the alley you were standing together in almost an hour ago, sitting against a wall.

“Luca.” You said softly as you walked up to him, “I’m sorry just- let me explain.” He didn’t move or say anything, looking at the ground as his moved one of his hands over the other.

And you did. You stood there explaining everything, from the day you met Carm to the day you left. He didn’t say anything, quick glances at you as you explained not giving you any hints to his thoughts.

“I should’ve told you earlier, I just didn’t think you’d really care. I haven’t dated anyone since you, I couldn’t. And I wouldn’t have danced with you if I had a boyfriend.”

You stopped, waiting with an apology written all over your face as he thought.

He got up after a few more drawn out seconds, shaking his head.

“It’s been over a year. You’re allowed to do whatever you want, if Carm’s who you want then that’s just fine. I’m happy for you.” He muttered, hand touching your shoulder for just a second before turning to go back in.

“Luca wait-“ You said, grabbing one of his hands. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you- I don’t want Carm, I want you.”

He turned back to you, removing his hand from yours.

“You left me.”

“But I didn’t want to. Luca, I wanted you to come with me.” He shook his head again, closing his eyes for a moment.

“You never asked-“ You interrupted him without thinking.

“I thought you’d say no. I didn’t want to drag you away from this place, you love it here.” He looked into your eyes, tears threatening to fall from his own.

“I love- I loved you.” He muttered, voice wavering, before walking back in.

Fuck.

———————

When you walked back in he was sitting down, you were about to walk up to talk to him again when someone else got there first.

A girl? She was placing a hand on his shoulder and laughing. Great.

You sighed and walked back to Mai, ignoring the burning feeling in your chest.

“You good?” She gave you a sweet smile and beckoned you closer.

You shook your head and glanced over at Luca and whoever he was laughing with.

“It’s okay though, I probably deserve it.”

She shrugged and shook her head.

“He hasn’t dated anyone since you left, I don’t think it’ll go anywhere.”

Really? You assumed he wasn’t dating anyone at the moment when he showed up alone, but the whole time? Maybe you had a chance. You felt eyes on you and looked back at Luca glancing at you before turning away again. Maybe.

You decided you might as well still have a good time instead of feeling sorry for yourself all night, dancing with Mai and whoever else was around you.

After a while your feet were getting tired and the only person you could place was Mai, talking to the girl she whispered to you about a few moments earlier.

You teased her for having a crush before taking her hand and guiding her towards her, giving them an opener before you left to ‘go to the bathroom.’ Giving them some room and dancing on your own.

You went to get some water since it was getting late, running into someone on your way to the table, spilling your glass all over them.

“Shit sorry-“ You looked up to see Luca, shirt now wet and sticking to his skin.

He looked down at the spill and up at you. “It’s fine. I’ll go get some paper towels.”

You stopped him.

“No, let me. Come on.” You grabbed his hand and guided him to the bathroom, figuring a hand dryer would do the job quicker.

You brought him in and he leaned against the sink, starting to unbutton his shirt.

“Sorry I didn’t see you, I just thought I dropped something and-“ You tried not to stare at the now shirtless man in front of you. He interrupted your apology.

“It’s really okay. It’s just water, no big deal.”

You looked at him then, letting go of the button for the dryer so he could hear you.

“Jesus, Luca, would you just tell me to fuck off.”

He looked at you like you were trying to explain astrophysics in the club bathroom.

“What?”

“Just-“ You rubbed your hands over your face, thinking about what you were about to say.

“Just be fucking mean to me for a second. You’re too nice. I left you, and then came back and danced on you with a hickey on my neck from someone else, and then I spilled water on you to make it worse. Call me a bitch, tell me I’m fucking stupid, I don’t care, just please. Don’t be so nice.”

He blinked and looked around, trying to process what you were saying.

“You want me to be mean to you?”

“Yes! God please, say anything, just don’t tell me that it’s okay.”

He turned the dryer back on himself then, drying it slowly as he sat quietly, thinking. It was torture, standing there waiting for him to call you selfish for needing that. But he never did. The dryer stopped after what felt like forever and he sat his shirt down, getting up to lock the door before towering over you.

“You really fucked me up. For a while, I thought I was going to marry you. I would’ve. But you left.” You nodded, listening. Breath faltering at the confession as he kept walking towards you, one more step and you were against a wall.

“What you did was awful. Leaving wasn’t enough for you, you didn’t even talk to me. And then you show up here and it all comes back, the feelings and memories and shit I was just starting to get over, everything. I think I might just have you for a second and you tell me you’ve been fucking my old friend.”

You were so close now, noses practically touching as you tried to catch your breath under him.

“I didn’t know you knew-“ He stopped you, putting a hand over your mouth.

“Let me finish.” He leaned over, mouth right over your ear, leaving goosebumps on your skin as his deep voice drove you crazy.

“You’re fucking horrible for me. And y’know what’s worse? I still want you. Even now, while you beg me to be mean to you, I want you. Like you never even left, I think about you all the time. I think about you at work, when I’m with friends, at home, in my sleep, Every second you’re on my mind. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted. You like that though, don’t you?”

Your eyes were closed, focusing on controlling your breathing as the warmth between your legs grew. Hearing his voice so close to you again, his cologne almost drowning you, arms boxing you in, it was all so much.

“Don’t you?” He repeated, moving his hand from your mouth to your jaw, opening your eyes to look at him.

You nodded and he kissed you. Moving his hands to your waist and telling you to jump, picking you up so you were between him and the wall. He was kissing you quick, sloppy mouths sliding against each other as you moved your hands all over him.

He pulled away, looking at your kiss-swollen lips. “d’you want this?”

You nodded your head again, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you, “Please.”

He moved to kiss your neck, biting the spot Carm left a few days before, making you shiver.

“‘s he good? Fuck you better than I did?” He was groaning into your skin as you tried to grind your hips into his.

You shook your head quickly, “No.” You whined, jealousy in his voice turning you on further.

“No?” He moved the hand not keeping you up to the hem of your dress, waiting for your nod before continuing. He pulled your dress up just over your hips to feel how soaked you were. “He get you this wet?” He was right next to your ear again, groaning when you tried to push down against his fingers.

“No. Just you.” You said between gasps. Thick fingers finding your clit through the drenched material and leaving light circles there.

“You like it when I’m mean to you, baby?” There was that name again. He had a lot for you, all of them making you need him even more.

You nodded and he removed his hand suddenly, grabbing your jaw with his slick fingers. “Words.”

“Yes.” You sighed at the loss before he moved his fingers back,

“There’s my girl.” You moaned at the nickname as he pulled your underwear to the side, running his fingers up and down your slick as you clenched around nothing.

“You miss these fingers?” He breathed into your skin as he sunk two into you suddenly, stretching you out as your mouth dropped open.

“Missed all ‘f you.”

“Yeah? Carm not fucking you enough, then?” He moved his thumb to your clit as he curled his fingers in and out of you, watching you struggle to respond.

You shook your head, “He’s just- he’s busy a lot.” You stuttered through choked moans.

“Doesn’t make enough time for you, does he? Poor thing.” You cried out as he repeatedly hit that spot inside of you that always made you think of him as he kept his thumb on your clit.

“Fuck, Luca-“

“I know, bunny. You’re so close, aren’t you? That’s too bad.” He whispered the last part, pulling his hand away from you just as the tension in your stomach was about to snap.

“Wh- But-“ He interrupted your whines, whispering in your ear once more as you protested.

“Sluts don’t get to cum.”

You gasped, surprised at the filth coming out of his mouth. He put you down gently, snapping your underwear back into place before pulling your dress back down.

He grabbed his shirt, putting it on quickly before grabbing your hand and unlocking the door, leading you out with the hand still covered in you.

—————

You followed him out, cool air cooling your fiery skin. He walked you to his car, opening the door for you and making sure you were buckled in before closing it.

He got in, glancing at your clenched thighs before starting the car. “You wanna go to mine or d’you want me to drop you off?”

“Yours, please.” He smirked when you tried to close your thighs even more after he placed a hand right where your dress stops.

Every red light had you glaring over at him, you hated how hot he was right now, shirt left open enough to see one of his chest tattoos, hair messy from your hands. He looked good enough to eat, and you had to stop yourself from touching him every chance you got.

You eventually made it to his apartment without moving your hand to his pants and distracting him from the road. Thank god. He got out first and opened your door, hand out to you. He still lived where he always had, grateful he hadn’t moved so you knew how to get to his door quickly.

You made it into the elevator, practically jogging the way there. Slick from his fingers still pooling between your thighs, almost dripping down your leg. As soon as the door closed you were pushed against the wall. He enveloped your body in his own, kissing you with fervor as his hands moved over your ass and thighs.

The door opened and if there had been people standing there they might’ve called security at the messy sight out you. He grabbed your hand and rushed you to his door, unlocking it and immediately pulling you in before kicking it shut.

You were against the door. Hands moving to take his shirt off as he picked you up again, mouths still connecting as he brought you to his room. Throbbing dick hard against your thigh, you were nearly drooling when he laid you down on the bed.

He leaned down over you and put your legs around his waist.

“I want you in my mouth.” You moaned into his mouth, pulling him into you with your legs.

“Fuck- yeah? You want my dick to fill that pretty little mouth of yours?” He punctuated with a kiss to your forehead.

“Please.” He moved to take off his pants, standing up as you sat on your knees.

“I wanna see you cum on my mouth first. ‘s that okay pretty girl?”

You nodded eagerly, “yes.”

“Look at you using your words.” He moved you to lay down again, hands gripping your waist as you squirmed when he started kissing down your body.

His mouth stopped next to your ear, hand pushing your dress up. “You like being good for me, don’t you?” He kissed right under it, lifting your dress up to expose your chest.

“I knew it.” He breathed, looking down at your uncovered tits as he licked his lips.

“Could see your nipples through your dress as soon as we stepped outside. Dirty girl.”

You let out a moan as his fingers brushed over them, moving back and forth over the hardened nubs.

He moved down, kissing his way to your chest and lifting your head up to remove your dress, leaving you shivering under his stare. He laid over you, staring hungrily down at you for what felt like forever.

“Luca, please.” He glanced back up at your face, need painting your every feature.

“What’d you need from me, pretty girl? Talk to me.”

“Touch me. Please.” He gave in, leaning down to lick over each of your nipples, hands grabbing the unoccupied breast as he moved.

He kissed, licked, bit at every inch of your skin, drawing the prettiest whines out of you as you tried to rub your thighs together for relief. He got to your thighs, spreading your legs open around his head.

“You’re fucking soaked. You want me that bad, baby?” He said, tongue tracing over the innermost part of your thigh next to the hem of your underwear. You could hardly breathe now let alone think but you knew he wanted answers.

“Need you so bad, Luc’”

At that, he licked a slow, featherlight stripe up your clothed cunt. You could cry. You couldn’t remember the last time you were so horny. It wasn’t enough and he knew it, continuing to give light kitten licks over you. You were really crying then, tears mindlessly falling over your face from the lack of stimulation.

“‘re you crying, sweet girl? Just tell me what you need, baby.”

“More, please, need your mouth on me.”

“Yeah? You want me to put my mouth on your pretty pussy?”

Fuck, did he always sound like this?

“Please, please, please.” You were almost sobbing, memories of being together like this before you left hitting you.

“I got you, baby.” He pulled the drenched fabric off of you, tossing it with your dress on the floor.

The cool air hitting the wet warmth almost had you moaning out already as he gazed down at you. He brought two fingers up to run through your folds, spreading you out all for him. You couldn’t hold back the noises coming out of you and you didn’t care anymore.

His name falling repeatedly from your lips like you were asking for his forgiveness as he attached his mouth to you.

“Luca- fuck,” you started a sentence you had no intention of finishing as he practically made out with your aching cunt.

“You think about me when he fucked you?” He murmured against you, tongue lapping every drop of juice that he drug out of you.

“Wh-“ You had to think for a second before you understood what he was asking - thoughts that weren’t Luca and how his tongue felt on you pushed out of your mind.

“Yes- most times, actually. I-“ You struggled to get through your sentence, moaning out at every lick or suck over your clit. “-I tried not to but it- I couldn’t stop it.”

He groaned at your confession, pushing his hips into the mattress as he continued lapping at you. One of his hands moved up to grab at your tits while the other moved with his tongue, sinking two of his fingers into you.

“Shit,” You cried out when he curled his fingers just right.

“You’re so fucking good to me, Luca. So good.” You grabbed a fistful of his hair as he sped his fingers up, bringing his mouth away for just a second to spit on your clit before sucking it back into his mouth.

“I’m so close, baby, please.”

He moved away for a second to lightly bite at your thigh while his fingers continued, moving in and out of you at a mind-numbing pace.

“Gonna cum all over my mouth and fingers, pretty girl?” He gave you a quick kiss, tongue slipping over your own to let you taste yourself before moving back down, letting his mouth suck around your clit once more.

Praises and moans falling from your lips as your eyes were shut tight, all you could hear were his soft groans into your cunt and the wet smacking sounds from his fingers moving in and out of you.

He moaned your name into you, voice vibrating as you clenched around his fingers, tension in your stomach finally snapping as you finally came all over him.

He moved his thumb to take the place of his tongue as his fingers kept working you through it. He was back at your ear as his pace continued.

“Just like that. Good girl, coming all over my fingers like I told you to.”

“I got you, baby, it’s okay. Feels good, huh?”

“Missed you and this perfect pussy so bad.”

His fingers slowed as you started squirming away from overstimulation, he gave one last rub at your clit, your legs shaking before he stopped.

“So pretty like this, just for me.” You opened your eyes to him next to you, gently stroking your check with his thumb.

“You okay?” He moved stray strands of hair out of your face,

“‘m okay.” You reassured him, leaning into his touch and kissing his hand.

You reached over to feel him through his boxers, finding a wet spot.

“Did you-“

“Yeah,” He shrugged, face reddening.

“You sounded really hot. Missed you.”

You grinned at him, leaning over for a kiss.

“I missed you too.”

He took your hand in his, running his thumb over your own.

“Luca?” You wondered if he meant everything he said, he usually did, but you had to make sure.

He hummed, leaning down at you.

“Did you mean all of that?”

He moved so you were laying your head on his chest while he stroked your hair.

“Well,” He paused to think, “I don’t really think you’re horrible for me but I do think about you all the time. And.. I did want to marry you. Still do, if you’d let me.” He punctuated with a kiss to the top of your head.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Shit.

——————————

BFFBHFFNFBBSHDJRBDHRBFD

#chef luca #the bear #chef luca x reader #chef luca smut #luca the bear #hot chef summer #the bear x reader #will poulter #GOD GOD GOD #this was crazy as hell sorry

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soapflavoredtea · 3 months

Text

Dogwatch | Denji

Pairing: Denji x Black Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Denji sees a black person for the first time

Content/Warnings: Denji being an absolute idiot, Not beta read so some typos

"[Name], could you be a dear and cover my shift?"

There they were. The words you had been waiting–anticipating even, to come out of your coworker's mouth the moment she strode in.

"Hard pass."

Your coworker tightly grasped her hands into a prayer as she gave you puppy eyes. A tactic that would’ve been a million percent more effective had it not been for the small fact that she was a grown woman approaching her thirties. "This'll be the last time, I promise!"

"That's what you said last time, Hanami."

“I actually mean it this time!”

She had also said that last time.

Shrugging on your thin jacket you rolled your eyes at her woman before heading towards the door. It was a quarter until ten on a Sunday. You had school first thing in the morning, and to say that you were a little behind on work would be the understatement of the century.

Hanami quickly moved in front of you, arms spread wide with zero intention of letting you leave. "Please [Name], my feet are extra swollen today and--and the doctor told me it isn't good for me to be working late shifts like this. Me and the baby need rest!”

Usually, you posed zero complaints to the prospect of covering her shifts. Doing so always gave you somewhat of a valid excuse for turning in assignments late and the additional pay was never something to complain about. Also because she was pregnant. That too was very important.

But today, you couldn't find any reason to say yes. Even if for some reason you did agree, you wouldn't be getting home until at least 5:30 in the morning. Leaving you with an hour, if lucky two, to sleep and another to get ready before you had to start booking it to your homeroom.

Yeah, definitely a hard pass.

Sidestepping her with ease, you resumed your way to the door, pushing it open to be met with the nice feeling of the late summer breeze against your face. The familiar chime of the convenience store rang through your ears leaving you deaf to her continued pleas.

"I'll talk with the boss about that raise you always wanted!"

At her words, you slammed the brake in your steps. Hanami and the boss had always been close. Perhaps a little too close. (Because for all you knew, the baby was probably his.) But at the end of the day, a raise was a raise and you were never one to stick your nose where it had no business being.

"I'm listening."

Her eyes widened in surprise at your sudden change in attitude. "Yeah...yeah! Tomorrow I'll make sure to talk about it with him and–uh we can go from there."

And though reluctant, in the end, you decided to do it.

______

Working the night shift was a lot less adrenaline-inducing than you had initially thought, and after two hours of working it, you could quickly tell it was going to be nothing like the many horror stories you'd spent your nights reading.

No attempted robbery. No mass murderer. No spooky paranormal experience. Nothing,

A small, small fucked up part of you was wishing for something to happen so you could guilt Hanami into never throwing another shift on you again.

For a brief moment, you thought the moment was coming when a creepy man. He had an odd, faraway look in his eyes and kept staggering around the store. Mumbling to nobody in particular but himself. However, after closer inspection, it was very apparent he was just a tired guy trying to go home and not some random pervert.

As much as you were grateful for it, the lack of shoppers left you with nothing else to do but drown in your boredom. You silently cursed yourself for not bringing any of your schoolwork. You'd rather be doing that than rearrange soup cans again.

The store’s bell, for the second time that evening, finally rang again. You shot up to straighten your posture so fast it was a miracle you didn’t pull anything. Looking to the door you saw a familiar top knot and a not-so-familiar messy head of blond. The former's look of surprise was evident on his face as he, and who you could only assume was his comrade, made their way to the counter.

"Since when have you worked the night shift?" Aki asked.

"Since today, or tonight or…this morning, I guess.” You were tired. Oh so very tired.

"Tell them to move you back. It isn't safe for kids your age to be working this late."

A devil hunter trying to lecture you about safety? You almost laughed at the irony.

You gave him a swift, half-assed salute, "Will do. So the usual?"

He responded with a curt nod.

Grabbing the small pack of cigarettes you moved it up to the scanner ready to recite the price listed on the screen before he interrupted you.

"Actually, add another pack, please."

"Long day?"

His dark blue eyes narrowed at his partner, "You have no idea."

“That makes two of us then,” you replied, repeating the action of scanning once more before telling him the total.

As the young adult fished down into his pocket you finally got a chance to look at the boy who accompanied him, and at that, your brows furrowed in worry.

You knew what Aki's job was and the many risks that came with it. Over the past three months of working here, he had come in with quite several recruits before they eventually stopped coming. And by the way, the look in his eyes became more diminished–well it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

The boy who accompanied him was the same age as you, if not a bit older. Kids had no business being anywhere near an industry like that but you knew it was out of your control and for that you pitied him.

Or you would have if not for his staring problem.

His head was tilted with eyes that were boring into your soul. You recognized the look on his face easily. It was the same one you would have when you’d be in the middle of taking a test and seeing a question you knew for a fact was never taught. Even if the teacher claimed up and down that it was on the study guide. None of this was cute or flattering. Just deeply, deeply unsettling.

In an attempt to give him the benefit of the doubt, you glanced behind you. Because surely with an expression like that he had to be looking at something else. But just as you suspected there was nothing. You briefly brought your hand up to your chin to make sure there wasn’t any drool on your chin that you had unknowingly let slip. But again, nothing.

"Aki,” you started, “would your friend want anything?"

He looked offended at the statement but let out a sigh turning around to speak with the boy, whose face was still contorted in deep thought. "Oi, Devil, do you want anything?"

"Why..." he pondered for a moment, "why is yer skin like that?"

"Like what?" you responded warily as you slid the cigarettes across the counter.

"So dark."

The packs of nicotine hitting the ground was the only sound that filled the store, safe from the flickering lights.

Aki's face was completely mortified.

Yours’s in utter astonishment.

While the teenage boy just stood there. His eyes darted between the two of you before shrugging his shoulders and turning to the magazine section.

He hadn't even got one step in before Aki was dragging him out by the collar, throwing a large wad of cash onto the counter before doing so.

That night you'd been left with the biggest tip of your life. And the afternoon following, as promised, you received the raise.

#x black reader #x black!reader #black reader #black! reader #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man x you #csm x reader #csm x you #denji x reader #denji x you #denji x black reader

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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 10 months

Text

the second act (not old enough ch.2)

pairing: leon kennedy/reader

cw: smut, age gap, mild daddy kink, oral f!receiving

summary: reader and Leon have a another little rendezvous a few months after their first. You're both sober this time and the ambiance is nicer, but is it enough for you two to become something more?

word count: 3.5k

ao3 link

Leon’s in a ballroom, mingling with government officials and other people whose names he won’t remember the next day. He’s dead sober, and all it gives him is hyper awareness of the fact that everyone who shakes his hand would throw him to the wolves and watch like a spectator sport. He knows that by now. He’s not the baby-faced rookie he once was, not so trusting, not like you. He’s knows he’s the best agent, not the best friend.

When he sees you, you’re wearing an elegant dress, something he’d never imagined you in. You look gorgeous, too - that was the one thing about you that hadn’t changed. You were always beautiful, no matter what you chose to wear. It wasn’t Leon’s opinion, it was a fact. He was sure of it.

You were chatting with other attendees, with a smile as fake as his. It takes one to know one, he thought, she’s a great liar. You’re playfully touching some older douchebag who looks familiar to Leon, but he can’t quite place him when every person here has their suits tailored by the same guy.

You catch his eye while he’s staring at you, not even gawking, but thinking, you can see he’s confused. Leon’s got his elbow on the table, pretending to drink, but it’s only seltzer in the glass. That secret’s between him and the bartender.

You make an excuse to leave the men you’re with for a moment, jogging excitedly towards Leon in a way that forces a smile from his stubborn mouth. It’s not even about him, you’re just cute in a way that’s so foreign to him. He learned cynicism so early, he’s been sucked dry of that type of sweetness, the kind you radiate.

He was probably the same at 18, but his memory is foggy for about a million reasons, none of them being alcohol anymore. Sobriety is still something he’s working on getting used to.

He stops you before you hug him with a gentle interrogation.

“Why are you here?” He’s neither happy, nor angry. It’s mostly confusion, maybe awe at how you can mold yourself so well to this atmosphere, too.

“Same reason anyone is, I guess,” You say with your typical nonchalance.

“What reason might that be?”

“To jerk each other off in the hopes of favors in the form of cash, status, or maybe even literal jerk off sessions.”

“Thought you’d say something different, but you’re smarter than I expected. How’d you get here? What age did you tell the bartender you were?” He points to the glass in your hand, half-empty.

“My date got it for me.”

“Your date, huh?”

“Yeah,” you can’t hide a sour face when you mention him.

“Not a match?”

“Never thought it would be.”

“So you’re here for cash or status? Since you clearly don’t wanna fuck that dude.”

“Cash,” you say, in a whisper, “I hate saying that. I don’t wanna be this ‘sugar baby’ or whatever. I just -”

“Hey, I get it. No judgment from me. You gotta do what you can to get by.”

You change the subject because your life isn’t the most comfortable or interesting topic for you.

“You seem very sober tonight?” You ask.

“I am.” Leon’s small smile is a proud one. “You seem more sober than the last time I saw you.”

“Yeah,” you say, heat rising to your cheeks, remembering things you did when you were drunk, “Thanks for making me take a cab home. I don’t wanna think about what else I would’ve done.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m thinking about calling you one now.”

“I’m not leaving, though.”

“You should be.”

“I bet you used to drink at my age, too. Can’t you just get off my back about it?”

“I don’t care about that. Listen, a lot of the men here are not good guys. I don’t want something bad to happen to you.”

“You’re not my dad.”

“Thank god. I’d be doing a shitty job if I were. Letting you go out and have sex with a stranger in a bathroom stall.”

“Hey! You did it, too. And you liked it.”

“You didn’t?”

You took a large swig of your champagne.

“That’s what I thought.” Leon gave you a smug smile. “Had you practically screaming.”

“Maybe I’m just easy,” you shrug and pause before saying, “or maybe I was faking it.”

“Yeah, you are easy, but you weren’t faking it, sweetheart. I have enough experience in that department to know the difference.”

“Oh? So you’ve had girls fake it with you?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t always good at it.”

Even though the sex you’d had with him was dirty, literally and figuratively, you loved it. It would’ve been better if there'd been a romantic ambiance. It would’ve been better if Leon was sober like he was right then, standing in front of you. He was so much hotter this way. Irresistible.

With a few more drinks, you’d get on your knees and beg him to take you into the nearest bathroom and do it all again, but you could maintain composure after only one glass.

You weren’t going to drink more anyway, not because you cared what Leon said, but because you wanted to remember the way he looked in that suit.

He gave you a knowing smile. “Whatcha thinkin' about?”

“Nothin’,” You said, turning to face the other way, hiding your embarrassment.

“Mhm.”

Leon was going to keep teasing you because the faces you made were so cute, but he wasn’t going to give into your charms this time. He would make sure you got home safe and that would be all.

Everything would be different if you were a little older. Sure, his sobriety would still give him the rationale he needed not to fuck you senseless in an adjacent room, but maybe you’d come over to his place after a real date. He’d take you out to dinner first because that’s what you deserve. You don’t deserve whatever this is, especially when you don’t understand how bad it is.

Your conversation alone feels precarious to him. You both have to lean in close to speak like every word is gossip, and in a way, it is, or it would be if it got passed around, and that’s the problem with the game you’re playing. Leon isn’t sure whether he’d get high fives or a stern talking to at the office if anyone found out about you, and he didn’t want either.

He didn’t want to take you home, not in that way, but he saw the way that other men looked at you, and it didn’t feel like an act of jealousy, it was protection. They’d hurt you, they’d use you. But what was he doing?

You were an enigma in Leon’s mind and maybe that’s what excited him. He couldn’t fit you into any box. You weren’t his girlfriend, you weren’t his friend, you weren’t his fuck-buddy - it was something entirely different.

The moment he first spoke to you the line had been crossed. He was already on the other side of it. Every move he made was wrong. Any choice was a bad one. Leaving you alone, telling you to fuck off, was just sending you to another man, one who’d treat you much worse. Yet, allowing you to stay, linger there beside him, even worse, allow himself to enjoy your presence - wasn’t he the same as the old creep across the room?

Later that night, Leon has you in a hotel room he hadn’t planned on booking. The employee at the front desk knew what you were going upstairs to do. You were both clearly antsy, unprepared to stay, and coming from a social gathering. She stared right through you and saw the future you hadn’t yet.

Leon gets you both a nice room because he’s too old to skimp on things like a nice bed to sleep in - he’ll wake up with back pain if he tries. He told you at the gala that you were getting separate beds, but ended up in a king sized bed with you. He couldn’t even be mad.

You were eager to get your hands on him the moment the door shut, but Leon stopped you, gently grabbing your wrists.

“If we’re doing this again, we’re doing it right this time,” he said, holding your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He looks like he’s not sure whether to lecture you or kiss you.

“Did we mess it up last time? I thought you were experienced.”

“Yeah, we fucked up big time.”

“It’s a good thing we’re doing it again then.”

“No, it’s not,” he whispers into your mouth, kissing you softly.

You knew what it was like to have him so deep inside you that you could feel him hitting your cervix, but this was the first time you’d felt the way he could tease you with only the tip of his tongue.

He would brush his tongue gently over yours and pull back when you tried to reciprocate. It was agonizing, yet tantalizing. If your hands weren’t fiddling with his belt buckle, you’d grab his face and force his lips against yours.

When he caught you trying to unbuckle his belt, he gently took your hands away, and whispered into your ear, “Don’t get greedy.”

You felt the tickle of his stubble against your cheek and then his teeth grazing your neck, threatening to leave marks on your skin, but that would risk the secret rendezvous becoming local news.

His hands were wrapped around your waist, and he guided you backwards to the bed. It took only a few steps backward for the backs of your legs to hit the bed frame, making you topple onto your back on the plush duvet. You expected Leon’s figure looming over you, so when he tried to stand, you took him by the lapels. He let you pull him in for one kiss, giving you only an ounce of the passion he had for you.

“Mm-mm,” he shook his head, pulling back from your lips, making you pout.

He laughed lightly at you, “Patience. You’re gonna like this.”

You wanted to say something snarky back, tell him he didn’t know what you liked yet, tell him you liked his lips on yours, but then he sank to his knees in front of you, next to the bed. He watched your expression shift from irritation to awe, relief, gratitude.

“Spread your legs,” he said, giving you the opportunity to comply before he pushed them apart himself.

Leon took off your heels for you, unbuckling them gently and placing them on the floor with such care. You already felt spoiled before his mouth was placing wet kisses up your ankles to your thighs all the way to the lace trim of your panties. You groaned at the first press of his lips against your clit through the fabric. You couldn’t even blame it on the drunkenness.

He wanted to laugh at how delicate you were, how quickly he could get you to break.

Sliding your panties down your legs, he asked, “Did you wear these for me?”

“Do you like them?”

“Love them,” he said, slipping them into his pocket.

Leon stood up and watched betrayal wash over your face.

“Hold on,” he chuckled, “Don’t get mad yet.”

He took off his jacket and tie, while you watched.

“Just don’t want anyone ruining my best suit,” he mumbled.

Your cheeks were burning, knowing that you were already soaking wet and could very well have left a stain on his suit.

He paid no mind to your embarrassment, though. His gaze was fixed between your thighs, only coming up to meet your eyes when he was on his knees again, so he could watch you melt. He kissed everywhere except for where you really wanted it. His lips and tongue trailed along your thighs and hips, and you thought his teasing would be endless.

“Please, Mr. Kennedy,” you begged.

“Just wanted to see how long it would take for you to say it.”

The noise you made when his tongue made contact with your clit was obscene. You felt him laugh into your core, making you even more embarrassed. Nothing mattered, though, once he dedicated himself to going down on you. He kissed you with a kind of reverence not even your lips had felt. Normally, you’d find the sounds of your wetness embarrassing, but hearing the way he savored the taste of you was sexy.

He didn’t have any further remarks to make you hot and bothered. He needed nothing to push your buttons because you were giving him every reaction he wanted. Leon let you tug on his hair, despite the fact that he would rarely let anyone near it. You didn’t need to force him to do anything though because he was giving you exactly what you wanted, a determination, a devotion to this like no other man before.

For once you were trying not to come because it felt so good you couldn’t stand the idea of losing the feeling. You only ended up lasting five minutes at maximum, but neither of you were counting.

You tried to warn him that you were close, but all that came out was incoherent babbling, which quickly turned to sobs of relief. You were on the verge of tears while your arousal was soaking his face. He led you through your orgasm with his soft lips, and then stood up and leaned over you, meeting you face to face. You weren’t sure whether you should feel gratitude or embarrassment when you saw his messy hair and plump red lips, but he smiled and kissed you on the cheek, giving you the “my pleasure” to the “thank you” on the tip of your tongue.

Leon stepping back to take off his belt felt like a cue for you to get on your knees, but watching you get up off the bed, Leon said, “Leaving already?”

He wouldn’t have been mad if you were, as long as you got home safe.

“No, I was gonna return the favor.”

“It wasn’t a favor. I enjoyed myself, too.”

“Letting me down easy? I promise I’ll do a good job.”

“I’m not doubting your abilities, but that’s not what I want right now.”

Truthfully, he would feel wrong doing it. It wouldn’t be sexy to see the innocence in your eyes. It would feel criminal, like he was corrupting you in an irreversible manner.

“What do you want right now?”

You wanted to make him unfold in front of you, so you could level the playing field.

“You know what I want. Unless, you’re tired.”

The dazed look in your eyes lingered, and ever the worrier, Leon needed to know that you were still fully into this.

“I’m not tired.”

“Don’t need a break?”

“It’s been like five minutes,” you whined, “That’s a long enough break.”

“I thought an orgasm would satisfy you, at least for a bit, but you’re still so impatient.”

“You can’t just stand there almost naked and expect me not to want you.”

“You don’t need to flatter me. You already have me.”

Desperation coursed through your veins, causing you to whine, “Oh my god, Leon, just fuck me already!”

Leon looked at you wide-eyed, a smirk of amusement barely concealed by a stern expression on his face. You weren’t on a last name basis, but he hadn’t expected the first time you’d say his first name would be in a sentence so demanding and naughty. It felt like insubordination, even though it wasn’t.

“I didn’t expect you to have such a dirty mouth,” he said, stepping towards you slowly.

Your nerves were high but your arousal was higher.

When he didn’t get a response from you, he said, “You’re going all quiet on me now, huh? Pretending to be a good girl again?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kennedy…”

There was something inside of you that needed him to be proud of you, but the apology was still mostly in the hopes of gaining what you wanted.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, pretty girl,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You looked at him through dewy, yet grateful eyes.

“You can’t help it when you’re like this, right?”

His fingers started playing with your pussy again, feeling your evident arousal, which hadn’t subsided post-orgasm.

You nodded, giving him a pitiful, yet adorable look.

“Please…” you said, after a beat of silence, minus the sounds of your wetness.

“Please what?”

“Please, Mr. Kennedy…”

He smiled and laughed lightly, realizing you assumed he wanted respect rather than clarification.

“No, baby, I want you to ask for what you want,” he said, brushing your hair out of your face and rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“I want you,” you said, barely being able to think with his hands still touching you.

“Okay, I wanna go slow, though, yeah?”

You nodded, wanting it now, in whatever fashion he would give it to you.

You thought slow sex was boring sex until Leon came into your life. He brought a heightened passion to every encounter regardless of the speed of his thrusts. His lips were on yours, capturing every breath until he couldn’t stand the thought of not hearing your pretty noises.

His kisses trailed down your cheek to your jaw to your neck all delicate. His breath in your ear telling you how beautiful you looked and how good you were being. His words made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, but his fingers brushing your nipples made your back arch off the mattress. Not to mention the slow strokes of his dick, coaxing needy moans from your mouth.

You thought you’d be begging for it harder and faster, but every thrust inside you felt deeper and that was beyond satisfying. Soon, your legs were pressed up against your chest and he was so deep inside you that you could see his dick in your abdomen with every thrust. The feeling of him hitting that sensitive spot inside you was bringing you closer to the edge, but the sight was what was making your eyes roll back into your head.

Leon saw how close you were and he whispered to you, sweet and sexy all in one, “I can feel you squeezing around me, baby. You gonna come for me?”

You wanted to say, “Uh-huh”, but it came out as a strangled moan and then, “Daddy!” as you came.

He ignored the slight pang of guilt that came with the word for a moment to let himself drink in the overpowering feeling of pleasure. His orgasm following yours quickly.

Lying next to you, after you both came back from oblivion, he asked the dreaded question, “Did you call me ‘Daddy’?”

“Yes, but I didn’t mean to. It just came out. Did it make you feel weird?”

“A little, but it was hot. I think you could’ve said anything coming out of your mouth would be hot, though.”

Leon holds you while you sleep and tries to forget about any lingering guilt he feels after you call him daddy. Your warm body pressed against his and the feeling of your steady heartbeat and soft breathing seem to do the trick.

The next morning he calls you a cab back to your apartment. You both have busy schedules.

You ask him on your way out, “My 19th birthday is coming up and I’m having a party. Do you wanna come?”

You’re hoping he’ll say ‘yes’, sort of expecting him to based on the night before.

But he doesn’t. He says, “No offense, but I think a 37 year old man hanging out with a bunch of teenagers would be kind of weird. Don’t you think?”

There’s a twinge of embarrassment inside you, realizing that he was right and you probably shouldn’t have even asked. Then again, you really want more time with him, so you say, “But you hang out with me and it’s not weird.”

You thought that was the truth, but when he doesn’t meet your gaze, you continue, “Is it?”

Leon sighs before speaking. “We really shouldn’t be doing this.”

It’s the nicest way he can say it, but it hurts.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re too young for me.”

“I wasn’t too young for you last night.”

The statement hits him hard, even if you didn’t mean for it to - it’s just true.

“Yeah,” he says, not knowing if he means that you weren’t too young for him to have sex with or that you were. Neither answer feels good.

With tears in your eyes, you ask, “Did you use me for sex? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No,” he says, “I actually care about you believe it or not, but that’s why we can’t keep doing this.”

“What do you mean?”

“You deserve someone who can give you more than this.”

Leon wipes the tears off your cheeks and you ask, “Why can’t you give me more? You could be that person.”

“No, I can’t.”

The unsaid apology fills his blue eyes, and you accept it, reluctantly, when you stare into them.

He kisses your forehead as a final goodbye and says, “If you need anything, you can always call me.”

You hug him tightly, holding something that will never be yours, just borrowing time. He allows you to, rubbing your back. This is all he can give you…

#leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy smut #fics #miss oranje fics

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baby-girl-aaron-dessner · 4 months

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One topic that I do not agree on with other “critical Swifties” is the Kim Kardashian controversy.

I saw a tiktok today by a critical fan called “The Swiftologist” and their opinion on thanK you aIMee was that Taylor is being whiny and that she’s made too many songs about this fued. Many people share this sentiment.

Everyone who follows me knows that I am critical of Taylor. However, when it comes to the Kardashian fued, I think she is completely justified in writing these songs and feeling the way she does.

Firstly, let’s do a thought experiment: If one of your friends created revenge porn (i.e. a lifelike figure of your naked body) of you, featured it in the music video of a song where they refer to you in degrading terms and lied about you consenting to the songs humiliating lyrics while creating the narrative that you’re a snake/liar, would you ever truly move past this?

Think about the consequences of this event:

The Twitter hashtag

The Instagram comment flood

Not being taken seriously by the Grammys for the next two albums

A deep sense of betrayal from people she assumed were her friends.

Losing social standing and public favour.

A few caveats: Now we know that these things were relatively inconsequential because in reality, she didn’t lose her career. She was able to continue creating music and touring. We also know that for a normal person, these things wouldn’t matter because she is still surrounded by millions of dollars, mansions, love in the form of her partner, family, and friends. But we have to remember that happiness is a relative concept. To her, this would’ve been a gut wrenching period. It transformed her character.

I will also admit to personal bias. In 2016, if you were a Taylor Swift fan, you were in the trenches. It was bad to the point where a lot of us would get made fun of or bullied at school for it. At the time, it looked like Kanye and the Kardashian clan had won. People either thought Kim was telling the truth OR people just didn’t care whether Kim was telling the truth because it was simply cool and trendy to hate Taylor Swift. Perhaps I view Taylor as justified because I remember the fiasco all too well and underwent personal social pain as a child who liked her music.

The petty side of me salutes Taylor in going after Kim and telling her story. If Taylor mobilises her cult of a fan base to tear down the Kardashian Empire, this will be a good thing.

And most importantly, who doesn’t love white billionaire on white billionare crime?

At the very least, a talented capitalist taking down an untalented capitalist makes for an exciting show.

Are you not entertained?

#yes I’m aware none of this matters and it’s just the petty child in me coming out #this is why I’m excited for the rep vault #Taylor Swift and Kim kardashian #taylor swift #taylorswift #thank you aimee #the tortured poets department #ttpd #the eras tour #1989 #reputation #rep tv #kim kardashian #kim k #cassandra #who’s afraid of little old me

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outermaybanks · 3 months

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Blood of the Damned - 1 - hellfire

demigod!rafe x demigod!reader a/n: this part is just establishing the story. disclaimer that this is inspired by PJO, I changed some things and the main characters in the real PJO are not present in this AU

You didn’t mean to kill him. You were mad, sure. But you didn’t mean for any of it to happen.

“What do you mean you have to go?” your boyfriend, Daniel, asked as he watched you pack from your bed.“I’ve stayed here too long. I just have to go, alright? Are you coming or staying?” you were blunt, but still vague. You couldn’t exactly tell your boyfriend of six months that your whole life you had been haunted by the ghost of your mother, and she gave you warnings of danger. You would’ve sounded crazy.

“Stayed here too long… that’s called settling down, and it’s an okay thing to do. Will you- Will you just stop and talk to me?” “You’re not listening to me! I can’t stay here, okay? I just can’t, you have to trust me, and if you can’t, well- it doesn’t matter because I’m going.”“I think we both know what’s happening here, y/n.”Something about his tone was already getting you angry. “Yeah? Well, you’re the expert. Tell me what’s happening right now.”“You’ve lived… in a million different places, but you’re only 18. You’re clearly running from something, what, commitment?”You were in utter disbelief, but only because he had you in the first half, you were running from something, but you were dumbfounded when he landed on commitment being the issue. His comment was so idiotic, you had paused your packing.

“Are you stupid, or just dumb? If commitment was the issue, why would I ask if you’re coming with me, and pack right in front of you?” you asked as you resumed your packing. Admittedly, you always had a bit of a temper, and that temper always had consequences.

“Y/n, you can’t possibly expect to make it in this world running away from everything that scares you.”

Now you were angry. This… man who had no idea the shit you had been through, no idea just how strong you were to survive all you’d been through, thought he had any type of superiority over you, to tell you what you could and couldn’t do. A man who didn’t even know your real last name?

The next thing you knew, you were standing outside your shitty apartment, while a man in an ambulance tried talking to you. “Ma’am, are you okay? Are you hurt? Did you get burned?”

No. Of course not. The fire never touched you.

“I think she’s in shock,” the man said to another person, but you were staring straight ahead, trying to remember how it happened.

Your phone started ringing, snapping you from your thoughts, only one other person had this number: your father.

“Hello?” you asked softly, and you could make out noises of annoyance from the ambulance worker. “Y/n? What happened?” He always knew. You didn’t know how, but he did.

Now that you thought of it, there was a lot you didn’t know. It had always seemed normal to you because it was just the way things had always been, but now it was getting worse; you had killed someone.

“I don’t know…” you mumbled. “Do I need to send someone?”

That was always your father’s solution. Send someone, someone you had never met, to take you somewhere new. It was never the same person twice. You considered telling him yes, just for the simplicity of it, you needed to go, now more than ever, and they would take you. But as you sat in the back of the ambulance, you noticed someone, a girl, staring from across the street.

You had seen her before. And to think of it, the last time you saw her was just before the ghost of your mother appeared with her warning. And now, after everything Daniel said, now you were curious.

What were you running from?

“No. I can handle it.” “Six months was pushing it. You’ll have to go further this time.” “I know, dad.”

Then the line went dead. The girl was still across the street, staring at you. She had crutches, but she always had crutches.

“The girl we pulled from the fire is right over here.” You turned your head quickly, to see the man from the ambulance talking to a police officer, but when you turned your head back, the girl was gone. “Ma’am, we have a few questions for you,” a male police officer said, adjusting his hat.

Your dad’s famous words echoed in your mind: Not safe.

“Questions?” “Well, it’s odd. We can’t find the source of the fire. It didn’t reach any of the other apartments, and the only one hurt was, well…”

Daniel.

“There you are, Ramona! I was so worried when I got your call!” Before you could even fully turn around, a pair of arms were wrapped around you. It was the girl with the crutches. “You, uh, know this woman?” The officer asked after a beat of silence. “We work together, c’mon, you’re staying with me until they fix your apartment,” she said, still hugging you, but you didn’t know what to do; you didn’t know this girl. “You need to come with me. I know what you are,” she whispered in your ear before finally pulling back. “Please, Officer, uh, Farley, she’s been through a lot, can we come to the station tomorrow to answer questions?” The officer cleared his throat. “You know where it is?” “Yes, right off of 23rd and Jefferson, thank you, we’ll be there tomorrow morning,” she promised before carefully looping her arms with yours, readjusting her crutch.

You followed the girl a few blocks before pulling your arm from her. “What the hell is going on? Why did you call me Ramona? Why do I keep seeing you?”

“My name is Suri, I’ve been watching you for a while. It’s my job to get you there safely, you need to come with me.”

Not safe.

“Where?” “I can’t talk about it here.” You actually let out a laugh, “And you expect me to go with you, a stranger? No fucking way-” “Your real name is y/n y/l/n, your mother died of unknown causes when you were 9, you’ve been on the run ever since.” Your face screwed up in confusion. “H-How do you know that?” “Because it’s my job to know, to keep you safe. I can explain it all when we get there. Don’t you want to know what you are? Why these things happen to you?”

More than anything you wanted to know why these things happened to you. Why strange people would follow you, why you constantly had to move, why you had been in contact with your father your whole life, but you couldn’t describe what he looks like.

“Okay.”

Suri took you to the bus station, you had been currently staying in Massachusetts, but Suri bought two greyhound tickets to New York, and after the greyhound, you took a train, two more busses and finally a taxi, but Suri told them to pull over in the middle of nowhere, a forest.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” The taxi driver asked. “I’m sure. Thank you,” Suri replied, carefully getting out with her crutches. You had come this far, if this was really the end of it, you could handle a trek through the woods. Besides, something told you you could take Suri in a fight if she tried anything.

You followed Suri into the woods, looking around for any sign that this was a bad idea. “I know this whole thing must be weird,” Suri said suddenly. “But… I mean, is it any weirder than the other stuff that’s happened to you?” She had a good point.

The rest of your walk was silent, until you reached two huge columns with an arch that read Camp Half-Blood. “Half Blood? What the hell is a half blood? And why did you bring me to a camp?” “They’ll explain once we get to it, c’mon.”

At this point you were intrigued, so you followed. Once you were past the columns, a huge cleared place came into sights, and from the hill you stood on, you could see almost all of it, cabins, a huge lake, people walking around, fencing. “Chiron has been waiting for you for a long time. I smelled you years ago, back in Chicago, I’ve been following you ever since,” Suri explained as she dropped her crutches, your eyes widened as she dropped her pants, and two furry legs that ended in hooves appeared. “What the hell-” “Oh, right, maybe I shouldn’t have done that yet. I’m a faun. Half human, half goat. Ish.” “Ish???” you questioned. But before you could question her further, a man, no- half a man, the top half was man, the rest was horse, came towards you. “Suri, is this-” “Y/n y/l/n, originally hailing from Wichita, Kansas, yes, I finally found her.” “I’m dead. I’m dead and this is all just funky shit my brain is coming up with…” you tried to reason with yourself, the horse man laughed.

“Y/n, I know this is a lot to take in, Suri has been tracking you for almost six years now. I can explain everything, come with me.”

What other choice did you really have?

You walked beside the horse man as he lead you down the hill into the camp, you got a closer look at the people here, 90% looked normal, like you, regular, full humans. And they all seemed used to the appearance of the half human half animal creatures, because they all just waved to him.

“My name is Chiron, I’m a centaur. I’m also the activities director for Camp Half-Blood,” Chiron explained as you two walked towards a big white building. “And Half-Blood refers to…?” “Half gods, demigods. Children born from affairs between humans and Gods.” “Gods?” “The ancient Greek Gods to be specific. Gods like to take, how should I say, vacations down to Earth, and usually, they meet a human and, uh, procreate.”

You were silent as you took it in, but you already decided it was insane, AND impossible. You knew both your parents. But you followed Chiron into the house despite this, maybe it was all a joke, and he was about to explain what you were really doing here.

Chiron lead you into a big room, and watched with your own eyes as his horse legs folded into themselves, and magically became a wheelchair. “Makes it easier in the house. Come, sit, we have much to discuss.”

Now you knew you were going insane.

“Mr. D!” Chiron shouted as he picked up a clipboard. You heard a loud sigh before another man entered the room. “What is it, Chiron? I was trying to nap.” “New camper.” “Oh, awesome,” Mr. D replied sarcastically as he came to sit in a chair beside Chiron. “Um, I think there’s been a mistake. I’m not a-a-a half-blood,” you tried to explain. “We don’t make mistakes here, young lady,” Mr. D said, obviously annoyed. “I can’t be, uh, a child of the Gods. I know both my parents.”

Chiron’s head snapped up from his clipboard, looking at you puzzlingly. He looked back to the clipboard, lifting the pages. “Suri’s report includes the death of your mother, Penelope y/l/n?” “Yes, but I know who my father is.” Mr. D rolled his eyes, while Chiron put the clipboard down. “Then please, by all means, enlighten us. Who is your father?” “I- uh, it’s hard to explain.” “Try us,” Mr. D snapped.

You reached into your back pocket, pulling out your flip phone. “My mom gave me this when I was little. It only had one number in it, labeled Father, he calls me… I just call him dad. Mom said he works far away, always traveling…” Chiron nodded. “So you can call him then? To pick you up?” “He calls me mostly, I mean, I could try, sometimes he answers. But he’d send a car if I got a hold of him.” “Hm. Your father seems like a powerful man… Surely, he could have taken you in when your mother died.”

Your jaw clenched, but you tried to maintain your anger, you weren’t eager to start another fire. But he was right. Why hadn’t your father taken you in? “Well, it’s not like he left me on the street. He paid for me to live in hotels, apartments, paid for chaperones and drivers to take me to new places when I stayed too long-” “And, why couldn’t you stay too long?”

This man was calling all your bluffs. Questioning the same exact things you long wondered for yourself, but it was fine when you questioned them, it was a whole other thing for others to question it.

But as if by some miracle, the phone began to ring in your hand. “See? I’m not making it up,” you held the phone out to show the caller ID: Father. You quickly opened the phone, “Hello?” “Hand the phone to Chiron.”

It took you by surprise. How did your father know you were here? How did he know Chiron’s name?

Hesitantly, you pulled the phone away from your ear, and held it out. “He wants to talk to you.” Chiron’s eyebrows raised as he took the phone from you, and put it up to his ear.

“Hello, Chiron speaking,” he said, and almost immediately Chiron’s eyes widened. “You? Yes… Yes I understand that… You should know the rules better than I… I promise she is safe here… Yes… Mmhm… Okay.” Chiron hung up the phone and handed it back to you.

“Wh-What did he say?” “He said you were never supposed to come here, but that isn’t up to Hades I’m afraid.” “Hades? Wait wait, are you trying to tell me Hades, grim reaper, ruler of the underworld, river styx Hades is my father?” “I was surprised to hear his voice as well, but it’s the truth. Suri brought you here after a fire in your apartment? Tell me, how was the fire started?”

You were silent.

“That’s one of your father’s gifts. Fire, hellfire… If you had been here, where you were supposed to be, you would have learned to control it by now. You see… your father has a wife, and usually… he’s very loyal to her. He probably kept you hidden so she wouldn’t find out about his infidelity.”

You felt a surge of emotions, complicated emotions. “That… This is all a prank right? Or I’m dreaming, this isn’t real.” “You are wide awake, y/n. It’ll take some getting used to, we’ll have one of our head counselors give you a tour, explain things. It might be easier to hear the truth from someone who’s been in your shoes… Come with me, Mr. D, I trust you’ll get started on the paperwork?” “Whatever.” “Okay, let’s go. I have the perfect camper in mind.”

You followed Chiron outside, still in his wheelchair. This time, when you looked around, you took it in with a new perspective. All these kids had had weird lives, like you. “Pope! Pope, would you please come over here please?” Chiron shouted as he stopped nearby a group of archers. “Archers, rest!” A boy, apparently Pope, called, raising his fist in the air before running over. “Hey Chiron… New camper?” “This is y/n y/l/n, daughter of Hades.”

Pope’s eyes widened as he looked at you. “Y/n, this is Pope Heyward, son of Athena.” “It’s a pleasure, y/n,” Pope said, sticking his hand out. You hesitated, but then shook it. “I want you to give her the tour, explain things. She’s, uh, had a bit of a rough start.” “Of course, sir. Will she be staying in Hermes cabin?” “Why would I stay in Hermes Cabin if Hades is my dad?” you asked. Pope and Chiron exchanged looks. “Well, um. We don’t have a Hades cabin. He’s never claimed a child before,” Pope explained. “She’ll stay in her uncle’s cabin. I’m sure JJ won’t mind the company until we can build a new cabin.”

“Yes sir. I’ll show her around,” Pope said. Chiron gave him a nod then looked at you one more time. “You’ll like it here, y/n. No more running.”

#outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #obx #rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #demigod!au #botd

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cozage · 1 year

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The Daughter's Return: Month 6

Bad Mood

Masterlist | Read this on A03

CW: just one of those days, but Ace tries to cheer you up :) Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace Word Count: 1.8k

The meeting had not been going in your favor.

“I’m telling you,” you said, trying your best to keep cool. “We need another division to go with Division Four. It’s too risky.”

“And I’m telling you,” Elmy shot back. “You’re underestimating Division Four. You underestimate every division but your own. Everyone lets you do it because-”

Thatch seemed to have nudged her, silencing whatever she was about to say. But she had said enough. Because you're Whitebeard’s Daughter. That’s what she would’ve said. That’s what everyone always said.

Elmy was always rubbing you the wrong way. She may have been a fellow strategist and Thatch’s personal pick, but she lacked a lot of foresight. She always expected everything to go perfectly. And things never went perfectly in the pirate world.

You looked at Thatch, begging him to take your side. But he stayed neutral.

You sighed. “At least take some members from division two. It will-”

“That’s not your call to make,” Elmy snapped. “You seemed to have forgotten, but you’re not a division commander. Only they can make personnel calls.”

A few eyes widened at her words, and people shifted uncomfortably in their seats. They knew the wrath that was incurred on anyone who crossed you, and they didn’t want to be a part of it.

But you were stunned into silence. You had no witty comeback. You had no angry words. In fact, you had the overwhelming urge to curl up in a corner and cry. Everyone at the table knew what kind of a low blow Elmy had made, but nobody dared to call her out on it.

“Fine.” You forced your lower lip to stop trembling. You couldn’t lose your composure here. “If the Division Four Commander requests assistance, we can go from there and talk to division commanders about additional assistance. Otherwise, you can operate as a solo division mission.”

“Division two is happy to offer people,” Ace immediately said, trying his best to support you. “If you want them, Thatch.”

“Thanks, Ace.” Thatch looked uncomfortable with the situation at hand. He kept trying to make eye contact, but you refused to meet it. “Let me talk to Elmy and we’ll get back to you.”

“Sure.” Ace nodded. “If that’s all, we can plan to meet back in a few hours. I know you guys have to-”

You didn’t hear the rest of his speech. As soon as you realized you were about to be dismissed, you stormed out of the room, the door slamming behind you as you left.

You felt tears coming, which was stupid. You had heard those jabs a million times over. Elmy’s words weren’t special. They weren’t even creative. You weren’t even mad about not having commander status anymore. You preferred Ace in the spotlight, you working to support him. And yet, the tears still threatened to spill out.

They waited until you were in your room, thankfully. You flopped onto your bed, letting out a muffled sob as you cried into the pillow. God, you felt so stupid.

Jinx swatted her paw on your head, and you shoved her away. “Leave me alone, you stupid cat!” you screamed. “I’ll burn you to a crisp, I’m serious this time!”

Jinx seemed to sense your words were an empty threat, because she came back and laid down in front of you. Her amber eyes stared into your soul, and then she did the last thing you were expecting. She began purring.

“That’s not gonna help, you know.” You sniffled, wiping your eyes. “I still hate you.”

Her eyes squinted, but the purring continued.

You continued to stare at her until you heard the door open behind you. Jinx jumped up and raced for the door where her true master stood, and you could hear her purring intensify as she weaved around his feet.

“Hey,” Ace said softly, sitting down on the bed next to you.

“I’m in a bad mood,” you said, your voice still thick with tears. “I just want to be alone.”

You felt a hand begin to rub along your back, massaging your tense body. “Can we talk about it first?”

“No.”

“Elmy’s jealous,” Ace said. “You’ve always known that.”

“I’m not mad about it.”

“Then why are you crying?”

You felt the tears spring up again, and you instantly became frustrated. “I don’t know!” you shouted. “I made peace with just being your strategist long ago!”

Ace’s hand paused against your back. “Just being my strategist?”

“You’re the division commander. You have the final say.” You wiped your eyes and turned your head so you could see him. “I’m just your strategist. Ultimately what I say doesn’t matter if you don’t want it to.”

“But I do want it to matter.”

“Which is great. But what I say doesn’t matter until you decide it does.”

Ace gave a little chuckle, as if he couldn’t believe what you were saying. “Do you hear yourself right now?” he asked.

Your anger flared up, and your skin began to churn. “Excuse me?”

“Where did you get this insane idea that your ideas don’t matter?”

“Did you not hear Elmy-?”

Ace scoffed. “I sure did. But listen to me right now. What you say goes, just as much as if I had said it. I trust you with my life, with my family’s life, with everything. There’s not a plan you could give me that I would veto. Because we are equal. Do you understand?”

“But-”

“Do you understand?” Ace repeated, staring at you.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, turning away from him. He just didn’t get it.

“That didn’t sound convincing,” Ace said, his fingers jabbing playfully at your sides and causing you to shriek out, your giggles filling the air. “Try again,” he said.

“Okay!” you yelled, trying to squirm away from him. Your tension and anger were gone, replaced with only your love for him. “Okay, okay! I understand!”

“Understand what?” Ace dug into your sides harder, making you kick at him to try and stop his assault.

“We’re equals!” you shrieked with laughter, and finally his fingers stilled.

He laid down next to you, kissing your shoulder, then your cheek, and finally your nose. “I shouldn’t have let you be embarrassed like that in there. I’m sorry I didn’t speak up sooner.”

You sighed. “It’s okay. It’s a weird position to be in. I’m sure Thatch and his team can do it on their own. I just want him to be safe.”

“I understand that.” Ace wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him. “It’s normal to be worried about people you love.”

“I know,” you grumbled, burying your face into his chest.

“And I’m always on your side, okay?” Ace said. “I promise I’m never going to leave you.”

You pulled back, scowling at him. “You can’t promise that. You don’t know what is going to happen in the future. Don’t promise it unless you mean it.”

“I mean it. I’ll never leave you. I love you too much to ever leave.” He paused. “If you want to leave though, I’ll under-“

“I won’t.” And you truly meant it. You couldn’t see a life without Ace. You didn’t want it.

“Guess we’re stuck with each other, then.”

“Till death do we part.”

“Nah,” Ace chuckled. “I’ll haunt you even after I’m dead. Just to keep my promise.”

The thought of Ace dying before you made you stop breathing, and you clutched his chest tightly. “Don’t even joke about that. You’re not dying. Promise me.”

Ace raised his eyebrow. “I thought you said don’t make promises I can’t keep?”

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. “Ace,” you sucked in a breath. “Don’t joke about that. It’s not funny.”

“Okay okay.” Ace pulled you back into his chest and kissed the top of your head, reminding you that he was still with you. “You can die first. I won’t die. I promise.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. You knew it wasn’t fair for him to promise that, but the thought of being without him made you want to vomit.

A knock came at the door, startling you both.

“Go away!” Ace shouted. “We’re in a bad mood!”

You giggled softly at his comment. He always knew how to make you laugh.

“It’s me.” Thatch’s voice came from outside the door, and you froze. You weren’t sure if you wanted to see him at the moment, even if he was about to leave.

“Oh, then come in!” Ace shouted. You shot him a look, which he completely ignored.

Thatch opened the door just enough to slip inside before shutting it again. Looking at him made you remember the humiliation you had just felt, and made you want to cry all over again.

“Do you hate me?” Thatch asked, looking at you. His eyes were full of fear, afraid of the answer you might give him.

You shook your head and sat up on the bed. “Elmy was right. You guys can do it on your own.”

Thatch’s eyes gleamed with pride. “You really think so?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I was just worried, that’s all.”

“If you have concerns, I want to hear them. I know we’re a smaller division and were not always perfect for the job. If you don’t think that we can-”

“You can,” you said, cutting him and his rambling off. “I just-”

You glanced at Ace, who gave you a nod of encouragement to continue. “I just worry about you, Thatch. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Thatch stared at you for a few moments, and his eyes began getting glassy. He jumped at you, wrapping his arms around you and holding you in a tight embrace.

“I’ll be okay, kid. Don’t worry about me. I’ll see you real soon, okay?”

You returned the intensity of his hug, afraid to let go. Nodding at his words, you tried to blink away your own tears. You had to be strong right now. “You’ll be back in two weeks, right?”

“Two weeks max. I promise.”

“See you soon,” you whispered.

Thatch kissed your cheek, and then opened the door. “I’ll be back before you know it, Your Majesty.”

The old nickname made you smile. It had been a long time since he had called you that, but it still brought back happy memories.

And yet, as you watched him leave, you couldn’t help but feel a little nauseous at the thought of the whole thing. Even if you couldn’t place it, something didn’t feel right. And that scared you.

If only you had listened to your instincts.

Tag list! @taeyoge @teiza @tojislawyer @trafalgardnami @bloopbopsblog @dancingnewcat @dxestyi @flooofity @nyxthedragon01 @deadsnothere @h-rhodes1598 @morgyyyyyyy @trafalgardvivi @fiestynatureweeb @frogpogjoghurt @beepboopcowboy @ms-portgas @luvyallbabes @aikochan4859 @zuchkaa @saybeyonce @stray-npc @kitsunechan707

(if you'd like to be included in the tag list, just comment or send me a message!)

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #ace x y/n #ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas d. ace #cozage #✧˚ace✧˚

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